The voluntary process of granting the rights, privileges, responsibilities, and status of child or heir to an individual or group that was not originally born to the adopter. While birth occurs naturally, adoption occurs only through the exertion of will.

At least two significant figures in the OT were adopted. After Moses’ birth mother kept him alive despite Pharaoh’s command to drown every newborn Hebrew boy in the Nile (Exod. 1:22), Moses was, ironically, adopted by Pharaoh’s daughter (2:10). Esther, or Hadassah, was adopted by her uncle (or cousin) Mordecai upon the death of her parents (Esther 2:7)—this adoption plays an important part in Esther’s ability to prevent the Jewish extermination intended by Haman.

Although adoption is fairly uncommon in the OT, God’s adoption of Israel is of the utmost importance. It demonstrates God’s willingness to initiate relationship with humankind, a truth that later culminated in Jesus Christ. God chooses to adopt the nation of Israel as his child (Deut. 7:6; Isa. 1:2; Hos. 11:1) and more significantly as his firstborn son (Exod. 4:22; Jer. 31:9). Thus God singles out Israel among the nations of the earth, bestowing the highest possible honor.

The concept of adoption is more prevalent in the NT, primarily in the apostle Paul’s writings. Based on the belief that Israel’s exclusive position as the adopted firstborn son of God the Father is no longer deserved, the NT includes those who believe in Jesus Christ as adopted children of God’s eternal family (John 1:12; 11:52; Gal. 4:5; Eph. 1:5; Phil. 2:15; 1 John 3:1). The adopted children of God enjoy all the rights of a natural-born child, including the opportunity to call God “Father,” as Jesus did (e.g., Matt. 5:16; Luke 12:32). Paul in particular uses adoption to describe the Christian’s new relationship with God through the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ (Rom. 8:15–16, 21–23; 9:25–26).

Births in the ancient world were the domain of women. The women who bore children were often assisted in the birthing process by midwives (Gen. 35:17; 38:28; Exod. 1:15–20). Although work was forbidden on the Sabbath, Jewish law permitted midwives to assist laboring women with births on the Sabbath because childbirth was viewed as saving a life.

Many women utilized a birthing stool (Exod. 1:16). Upon birth, the newborn often was washed with water, rubbed with salt, and wrapped in cloths (Ezek. 16:4; Luke 2:7, 12). The OT required women to undergo a rite of purification following childbirth (Exod. 13:2, 20; 34:20; Lev. 12:6–8; Luke 2:22–24). This purification lasted forty days after the birth of a son and eighty days after the birth of a daughter and concluded with the sacrifice of both a burnt offering and a sin offering.

Birthing was valued, and women who were considered to be infertile often faced great shame (1 Sam. 1:10–11; Luke 1:25). Jewish tradition drew additional connections between childbirth and a woman’s character. For instance, death in childbirth was threatened for women who did not follow the law. Pain in childbirth was associated with the sin of Eve (Gen. 3:16), and conversely, absence of pain was interpreted as a sign that a woman was particularly righteous. According to Josephus, Moses was borne with no pain to his mother, and the Protevangelium of James indicates the same about Mary’s labor with Jesus.

The birthing process posed significant risk to both woman and child. Estimates of mortality rates for babies vary, but it is thought that as many as 50 percent of children did not survive beyond the age of five, with many failing to live through the first week outside the womb. Conservative guesses place the death rate for mothers around 5 percent. Death rates during childbirth were higher among Greek women, who often married younger than their Jewish counterparts and frequently suffered complications in childbirth due to their youth.

The Bible sometimes employs the language of birth as a spiritual metaphor. In John 3:3–6 Jesus instructs Nicodemus about the need for spiritual birth by explaining that he must be born again. In Rom. 8:22 Paul describes the whole of creation as experiencing the pain of childbirth as it awaits redemption, and in Gal. 4:19 he says that he is in labor for a second time with the Galatians as he desires the formation of Christ in them.

The earliest ripening produce of the harvest (Exod. 23:16; Neh. 10:35) or, more generally, the highest-quality portion of any produce or manufactured commodity (Num. 15:20).

The firstfruit of the harvest is a symbol and harbinger of God’s blessing. Thus, God commands that sacrifices take place in which the “best of the firstfruits” are offered to him in thanksgiving and praise (Exod. 34:26; cf. Lev. 23:17; Deut. 26:2). The same principle applies to manufactured goods (Deut. 18:4), and all these events are accompanied by feasts and festivals (Exod. 23:16). Such ceremonial worship takes on renewed importance in the return from the exile, where they are connected to God’s worldwide rule and his claim upon the firstborn (Neh. 10:35–37; cf. Exod. 13:2–16).

Paul uses this OT background to metaphorically describe the resurrection, God’s final “harvest” of the earth. Jesus Christ, by virtue of his resurrection from the dead, is “the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep” (1 Cor. 15:20; cf. Rom. 8:29). The resurrection of Christ is the guarantee of an abundant harvest to come, in which those united to Jesus will be similarly raised into abundant life. There is therefore a two-part order to a single resurrection harvest: “Christ, the firstfruits; then, when he comes, those who belong to him” (1 Cor. 15:23).

Furthermore, since Jesus’ own resurrection has already taken place, believers, who are sealed with Christ through “the firstfruits of the Spirit,” enjoy now a foretaste of the abundant life to come (Rom. 8:23; cf. 2 Cor. 1:22; 5:5). Believers are therefore encouraged to live as those who have been born again by faith, “that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all he created” (James 1:18). Similarly, Paul sometimes uses the term “firstfruits” to describe the first converts in a region (Rom. 16:5; 1 Cor. 16:15 KJV), symbolizing the expectation of fruitful ministry and the intimation of worldwide salvation.

The blocking or hindering of plans or desires. Plans may be frustrated due to lack of consultation (Prov. 15:22). People may try to frustrate the plans of others, either for good or for ill (2 Sam. 15:34; Ezra 4:5; Esther 2:21–23; 8:3; Ps. 14:6). God frustrates the plans of the wicked (2 Sam. 17:14; Neh. 4:15; Job 5:12; Ps. 146:9; Prov. 22:12; 1 Cor. 1:19; cf. Esther 6), but the plans of God cannot be frustrated (Isa. 14:27). Frustration is a general part of life in a sinful and cursed world, as Eccles. 5:15–17 observes. Paul describes the curse in Gen. 3 as the creation being “subjected to frustration” (Rom. 8:20) in the hope of a greater glory.

Although forms of the word “frustration” are not abundant in Bible translations, the feelings of frustration are common to many stories. Cain is frustrated that his offering is not received (Gen. 4:5–6). Amnon is frustrated because he desires Tamar (2 Sam. 13:2). David’s plans to trick Uriah were frustrated by Uriah’s upright character (2 Sam. 11). The psalms of lament are filled with frustrations. Such stories raise the character issue of what to do with frustrations. In seeking (the feeling of) relief, Cain and David murdered, and Amnon raped. And multiple stories tell of frustrated people making bad choices. The model of the psalms is to turn to God and give full voice to frustrations (though not over petty, selfish issues) and to persist in righteousness.

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

Old Testament

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

New Testament

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

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

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

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

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

Scope and Uses of the Word “Hope”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hope as a Biblical Theme

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

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

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

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

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

Referring to sickness or weakness, the word “infirmity” occurs most often in the KJV. The term appears far more frequently in the NT than in the OT. In the Gospels, the sense of physical sickness is arguably always in view (e.g., Matt. 8:17; Luke 5:15; 8:2; 13:11–12; John 5:5), but in the Epistles, where “infirmity” occurs rarely outside the KJV, the idea of weakness is most common (e.g., Rom. 6:19; 8:26; 2 Cor. 11:30; Heb. 4:15).

Referring to sickness or weakness, the word “infirmity” occurs most often in the KJV. The term appears far more frequently in the NT than in the OT. In the Gospels, the sense of physical sickness is arguably always in view (e.g., Matt. 8:17; Luke 5:15; 8:2; 13:11–12; John 5:5), but in the Epistles, where “infirmity” occurs rarely outside the KJV, the idea of weakness is most common (e.g., Rom. 6:19; 8:26; 2 Cor. 11:30; Heb. 4:15).

The act of advocating before the powerful on someone’s behalf (Gen. 23:8–9), especially turning to God in prayer to seek God’s favor for others in crisis (2 Sam. 12:16). While it is a prerogative of prophets (Gen. 20:7; Num. 12; Amos 7:1–6), priests (Ezra 6:9–10), and kings (1 Chron. 21:17; 2 Chron. 30:18; Jer. 26:19), intercession is a ministry that belongs to all the people of God (Acts 12:5; Eph. 6:18; 1 Tim. 2:1; James 5:16).

Old Testament

Reflecting God’s own deliberative process (Gen. 1:26–27; 2:18), our creation in God’s image implies and makes possible our genuine conversation, participation, and even disputation with God. A biblical understanding of God’s rule accommodates this divine-human dialogue and the intertwined roles of both parties. People request intercession for themselves (1 Kings 13:6; Acts 8:24), but Scripture highlights God’s initiative.

In Gen. 18 God invites (even provokes) Abraham’s intercession by confiding in Abraham, reviewing the divine promises, and disclosing the guilt and impending doom of Sodom and Gomorrah. On behalf of righteous persons who may live there, Abraham appeals boldly to God’s own “justice” (mishpat) in distinguishing the innocent from the guilty, and he successfully negotiates God’s pledge to spare the city if even ten righteous persons can be found there. Without disputing the allegations of wickedness, Abraham puts God’s just response on the table as well.

Similarly, in Exod. 32 God informs Moses of the Israelites’ sin with the golden calf and his own intention to destroy them and start over with Moses. In response, Moses intercedes, arguing that God’s deliverance of Israel, and the likelihood of its being misconstrued by Egypt, should trump divine anger. Moses urges a different course of action: turn from anger, relent, and do not bring the announced disaster. The destruction of Israel would be inconsistent with God’s own commitment to multiply the people of Israel and give them the land as their inheritance (cf. Num. 14:13–29). The issue for Moses is not only Israel’s sin but also the rightness of God’s response in faithfulness to his purposes.

In Job’s intercession for his friends, God dictates the entire process, directing the friends to make offerings and assigning Job the task of interceding for them. God makes his own vindication the central issue: Eliphaz and friends have not said “the truth” (nekonah) of God, as Job had (Job 42:7–10).

These three narratives highlight God’s initiative and make God’s character the grounds for intercession. They also introduce the potential pain borne by the intercessor. For example, Moses dramatizes his passionate concern for God’s cause by falling down before God and lying prostrate forty days and nights (Deut. 9:13–29). He so identifies his own destiny with Israel’s as to offer himself as “atonement,” saying, “Please forgive their sin—but if not, then blot me out of the book you have written” (Exod. 32:32). This anticipates later prophets’ participation in the sorrow of God and the pain of the people’s separation from God (Jer. 15; cf. Luke 13:34–35; 19:41–44).

New Testament

In the Gospels, Jesus heals by command, without explicit reference to intercession, and in this way remarkably transcends the OT prophets (1 Kings 17:19–21). Although he does ask his Father to forgive his crucifiers (Luke 23:34), the Gospels emphasize Jesus’ intercession for his disciples, such as for Simon Peter to survive Satan’s assaults on his faith (22:31–32). John 17 comprises an extended intercession of Jesus for his disciples—significantly, that the Father will protect them in a hostile world. Moreover, Christ promises to acknowledge faithful disciples before the Father (Matt. 10:32), an action formally close to intercession, and that Christ performs as mediator of the Father’s kingdom and salvation.

Paul’s prayer for his fellow Israelites to be saved is fueled by anguish over their unbelief (Rom. 9:1–3; 10:1–4). Mirroring this is “the pressure of concern” he feels for all the churches and for the welfare of their members (2 Cor. 11:28–29), hence the prominent role of prayer in Paul’s ministry (see the thanksgivings that open his letters [e.g., Phil. 1:3–11]). Intercession per se, as prayer that others be spared or delivered from crisis, is seen in the churches’ prayers for Paul’s deliverance from prison and death (Phil. 1:19; 2 Thess. 3:2–3; cf. Rom. 15:31).

The NT extends the Gospel portrayals to reveal Christ as our heavenly intercessor, a role made possible by the cross and resurrection. In Rom. 8:34–39 Christ’s death, resurrection, and reign “at the right hand of God” ground Paul’s confidence that Christ’s intercession assures victory over condemnation and all opposition. The work of Christ our high priest (Heb. 7:25) may be summed up as intercession, echoing Isa. 53:12. Accordingly, “Jesus Christ the Righteous One” not only advocates before the Father for the forgiveness of our sins but also is their atoning sacrifice (1 John 2:1–2). In these texts, Christ’s heavenly intercession implements the saving purposes of God made real in the cross. Moreover, the work of Christ as prophet, priest, and king implies the central role of intercession, since intercession is a function of each of these offices.

Thus God’s initiative in intercession is intensified in the NT: God’s self-giving through Christ is the foundation of an ongoing heavenly intercession that in turn gives the church increased confidence to intercede boldly. Further, God’s Spirit helps us in our weakness by interceding for us in accord with God’s will, even if we experience that intercession as “wordless groans” (Rom. 8:26–28).

The act of advocating before the powerful on someone’s behalf (Gen. 23:8–9), especially turning to God in prayer to seek God’s favor for others in crisis (2 Sam. 12:16). While it is a prerogative of prophets (Gen. 20:7; Num. 12; Amos 7:1–6), priests (Ezra 6:9–10), and kings (1 Chron. 21:17; 2 Chron. 30:18; Jer. 26:19), intercession is a ministry that belongs to all the people of God (Acts 12:5; Eph. 6:18; 1 Tim. 2:1; James 5:16).

Old Testament

Reflecting God’s own deliberative process (Gen. 1:26–27; 2:18), our creation in God’s image implies and makes possible our genuine conversation, participation, and even disputation with God. A biblical understanding of God’s rule accommodates this divine-human dialogue and the intertwined roles of both parties. People request intercession for themselves (1 Kings 13:6; Acts 8:24), but Scripture highlights God’s initiative.

In Gen. 18 God invites (even provokes) Abraham’s intercession by confiding in Abraham, reviewing the divine promises, and disclosing the guilt and impending doom of Sodom and Gomorrah. On behalf of righteous persons who may live there, Abraham appeals boldly to God’s own “justice” (mishpat) in distinguishing the innocent from the guilty, and he successfully negotiates God’s pledge to spare the city if even ten righteous persons can be found there. Without disputing the allegations of wickedness, Abraham puts God’s just response on the table as well.

Similarly, in Exod. 32 God informs Moses of the Israelites’ sin with the golden calf and his own intention to destroy them and start over with Moses. In response, Moses intercedes, arguing that God’s deliverance of Israel, and the likelihood of its being misconstrued by Egypt, should trump divine anger. Moses urges a different course of action: turn from anger, relent, and do not bring the announced disaster. The destruction of Israel would be inconsistent with God’s own commitment to multiply the people of Israel and give them the land as their inheritance (cf. Num. 14:13–29). The issue for Moses is not only Israel’s sin but also the rightness of God’s response in faithfulness to his purposes.

In Job’s intercession for his friends, God dictates the entire process, directing the friends to make offerings and assigning Job the task of interceding for them. God makes his own vindication the central issue: Eliphaz and friends have not said “the truth” (nekonah) of God, as Job had (Job 42:7–10).

These three narratives highlight God’s initiative and make God’s character the grounds for intercession. They also introduce the potential pain borne by the intercessor. For example, Moses dramatizes his passionate concern for God’s cause by falling down before God and lying prostrate forty days and nights (Deut. 9:13–29). He so identifies his own destiny with Israel’s as to offer himself as “atonement,” saying, “Please forgive their sin—but if not, then blot me out of the book you have written” (Exod. 32:32). This anticipates later prophets’ participation in the sorrow of God and the pain of the people’s separation from God (Jer. 15; cf. Luke 13:34–35; 19:41–44).

New Testament

In the Gospels, Jesus heals by command, without explicit reference to intercession, and in this way remarkably transcends the OT prophets (1 Kings 17:19–21). Although he does ask his Father to forgive his crucifiers (Luke 23:34), the Gospels emphasize Jesus’ intercession for his disciples, such as for Simon Peter to survive Satan’s assaults on his faith (22:31–32). John 17 comprises an extended intercession of Jesus for his disciples—significantly, that the Father will protect them in a hostile world. Moreover, Christ promises to acknowledge faithful disciples before the Father (Matt. 10:32), an action formally close to intercession, and that Christ performs as mediator of the Father’s kingdom and salvation.

Paul’s prayer for his fellow Israelites to be saved is fueled by anguish over their unbelief (Rom. 9:1–3; 10:1–4). Mirroring this is “the pressure of concern” he feels for all the churches and for the welfare of their members (2 Cor. 11:28–29), hence the prominent role of prayer in Paul’s ministry (see the thanksgivings that open his letters [e.g., Phil. 1:3–11]). Intercession per se, as prayer that others be spared or delivered from crisis, is seen in the churches’ prayers for Paul’s deliverance from prison and death (Phil. 1:19; 2 Thess. 3:2–3; cf. Rom. 15:31).

The NT extends the Gospel portrayals to reveal Christ as our heavenly intercessor, a role made possible by the cross and resurrection. In Rom. 8:34–39 Christ’s death, resurrection, and reign “at the right hand of God” ground Paul’s confidence that Christ’s intercession assures victory over condemnation and all opposition. The work of Christ our high priest (Heb. 7:25) may be summed up as intercession, echoing Isa. 53:12. Accordingly, “Jesus Christ the Righteous One” not only advocates before the Father for the forgiveness of our sins but also is their atoning sacrifice (1 John 2:1–2). In these texts, Christ’s heavenly intercession implements the saving purposes of God made real in the cross. Moreover, the work of Christ as prophet, priest, and king implies the central role of intercession, since intercession is a function of each of these offices.

Thus God’s initiative in intercession is intensified in the NT: God’s self-giving through Christ is the foundation of an ongoing heavenly intercession that in turn gives the church increased confidence to intercede boldly. Further, God’s Spirit helps us in our weakness by interceding for us in accord with God’s will, even if we experience that intercession as “wordless groans” (Rom. 8:26–28).

Origins, Composition, and Constitution

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

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

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

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

Form and Function

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

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

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

Humanity in Pauline Thought

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

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

Old Testament

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New Testament

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Old Testament

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New Testament

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Old Testament

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

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

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

New Testament

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Terminology

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

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

Election and Salvation

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

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

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

Hardening of Hearts and the Nonelect

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

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

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

Summary

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

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

Heaven and Earth

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

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

The Theology of Land

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

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

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

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

Inheritance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Terminology

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

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

Election and Salvation

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

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

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

Hardening of Hearts and the Nonelect

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

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

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

Summary

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

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

Terminology

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

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

Election and Salvation

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

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

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

Hardening of Hearts and the Nonelect

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

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

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

Summary

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

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

The Sources of Moral Knowledge

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

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

The Logic of Biblical Morality

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Evil is unquestionably real from the biblical perspective, but the origin and nature of evil remain mysterious. The Bible is replete with references to evil, starting with the temptation and fall (Gen. 3) and the toll that it exacted on human existence. Humans not only suffer inwardly and reciprocally but also are now hopelessly and irredeemably inclined to evil. The Bible is the unfolding story of redemption through the sacrificial death of Christ, the ongoing battle in the lives of believers against the power of evil, and the eventual conquering of evil by the divine power vested in the risen Christ, who is to come as the cosmic ruler.

This sits uncomfortably with a fundamental affirmation in the Bible: the inherent goodness of creation. This is magisterially illustrated in the creation account of Genesis, where the Creator repeatedly pronounces at the end of each day that what had been created was “good” (Heb. tob means “good” in the aesthetic as well as the moral sense). The world, however, fell under the curse of human sin and, once compromised, is now under the rule of the evil one (1 John 5:19) and eagerly awaits its redemption (Rom. 8:19–23).

Though not narrated in the Bible, it is a likely inference that the origin of evil dates back further than human existence. Prior to the temptation of the first human couple, the tempter (Heb. satan, “accuser,” is a poignant reminder of the treacherous nature of the temptation, as the tempter himself would function as the accuser of those who fell by his lies) and his followers had their own momentous experience: they jeopardized their privilege to serve God by separating themselves to establish their own kingdom. That God allows this realm of dark forces to persist until the end of history is itself a mystery.

Despite its grip over humanity, evil has been severely battered as it has confronted the divine power manifested at the cross. In fact, evil had no chance to challenge the real power. The essence of evil lies in its parasitic nature. Evil does not create; it only destroys. Evil draws its power from the absolute good, as it exercises its dominion over failed human beings by condemning them against the perfect standard established by God. It accuses humans of being wrong but never tells them how to be right. It diagnoses terminal illness without offering a cure. Satan achieved his grip over humanity by a conniving distortion of God’s truth.

The crucifixion of Christ and his subsequent resurrection marked the decisive blow against the power of evil and death. The gospel is the declaration that evil finally met the higher power at the atoning death of the sinless Christ. The lie has been exposed. The risen Christ freed human beings from their bondage to sin and death. Despite this, evil will persist due to the arrogance of the evil one, who vows to never submit to God’s authority. In fact, the activity of the evil one will only increase toward the end of history, even to the point that it will present a rival before the coming Christ. Against the second coming of Christ (Gk. parousia) there will be the coming (parousia) of the lawless one. Not only will he stand up against Christ, but also he will present himself as the alternative for Christ, befitting the title “antichrist” (anti, “instead of, in place of” as well as “against”). But eventually this rally against God will be in vain. Satan will be permanently and irrevocably crushed and thrown into “the lake of fire,” destined for oblivion.

The word “Gentiles” is often used to translate words meaning “nations” or “peoples.” It has a Latin etymology from gens, meaning “clan” or “family” and, eventually, “race” or “people.” The Greek word genos (“race, kind”) has a close relationship. In the Bible it loosely refers to nations or peoples other than Israel. English Bibles often translate it as “nations,” “peoples,” or “races.”

Old Testament

In general, within the OT, Gentiles are not God’s people. God chose Israel to be his people, not other nations (Deut. 7:6–8; 10:15; 26:18–19). Israelite ancestry determines membership in the covenant people. Some writings thus forbid Gentiles from becoming part of God’s people (Ezra 9–10; Neh. 13).

The OT more commonly envisions Gentiles experiencing covenant blessing through Israel if they functionally become Israelites by keeping the law, including the parts we understand as ceremonial-ritual law. The law is that special life-giving and regulating aspect of the covenant that God revealed to Israel, which defines Israel (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 will reach and restore the world through Israel, the locus of his saving activity. God will bless the nations in and through Abraham’s descendants, Israel (Gen. 12:1–3; 17:4–6; 22:18; 26:4; 28:14). This covenant specifically involves keeping the law (e.g., circumcision [Gen. 17:9–14]). Some passages depict this happening through the nations being subject to Israel (Gen. 49:8–12; Num. 24:9, 17–19; Isa. 11:10–16; 14:2; 54:3). In other passages the nations will be blessed by Israel’s God as they come to Israel, bring back exiled Israel, serve Israel, present Israel with their own wealth, and/or fear Israel’s God (Isa. 45:23; 49:22–23; 51:4–5; 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 (Exod. 12:48; Isa. 56:1–8; Jer. 12:14–17; Zech. 14:16–21). The portrait of the nations “flowing” up the mountain of God associates Gentile participation in God’s salvation explicitly with the law (Isa. 2:2–5; Mic. 4:1–5).

The Servant Songs in Isa. 40–55 also reflect this law/Israel-centered nature of salvation for the Gentiles. The servant, explicitly identified as Israel (41:8, 9; 42:18–19; 44:1–2, 21; 45:4; 48:20; 49:3; 54:17; see also 65:9; 66:14), serves as God’s instrument for reaching the nations (42:1, 6; 49:6; 52:15). The OT usually condemns Gentiles who remain separate from Israel to some form of judgment, especially Gentiles who have harmed Israel.

Second Temple Judaism and Early Christianity

Second Temple Jewish sources exhibit diverse views about Gentiles, their nature, their possible relation to God, and their fate at the end. Many reflect something resembling the OT views. Israel as God’s people defined by the law, variously understood and contested among Second Temple sources, generally continues to be the locus of God’s ultimate blessing activities.

Situating Jesus and early Christianity within this matrix of Gentile sensitivities is illuminating. As the Jesus movement spread across the Mediterranean, proclaiming the ultimate salvation of the God of Israel in and through Jesus the Messiah, questions about how Gentiles experience this salvation of the Jewish God had paramount importance.

Some Christians, in line with traditional readings of the OT, thought that Gentiles must keep the law, becoming Jews to experience the God of Israel’s salvation in Jesus (Acts 11:1–3; 15:1, 5; Paul’s opponents in Galatia). Gentiles, after all, were separated from God and his salvation promises to Israel (Rom. 9:4–5; Eph. 2:11–13; 1 Pet. 2:10). They stood under God’s condemnation, especially because they were 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).

However, various NT authors, such as Paul, contend that Gentiles need not keep the law, functionally becoming Jews, in order to participate in God’s ultimate salvation in Jesus. Christ, the climax of Israel itself, has replaced the law’s centrality and ultimacy with himself and his death and resurrection (Rom. 10:4). Through being united to Christ by the Spirit, Gentiles are, apart from the law, grafted into true, redefined Israel and become Abraham’s descendants, inheriting God’s promised salvation for Israel (Rom. 3:21–4:25; 8:1–17; 9:30–10:17; 11:13–32; Gal. 2:11–4:7; Eph. 2:11–22; 3:4–6). In Christ, by the Spirit, Gentiles attain self-mastery over their passions and sin and thus live rightly before God, inheriting the kingdom of God in Christ (Rom. 6:1–8:30; 1 Cor. 6:9–11; Gal. 5:16–26; 1 Thess. 4:3–8). Various NT writings thus reconfigure the situation of Gentiles with respect to Israel’s God because of what God did in Christ.

Debates about Gentiles, the law, salvation, and what Christ means for these issues persisted after Paul. Early Christians lacked an unequivocal saying from Jesus on the matter, and not all accepted Paul and some other NT writings.

Both speaking in tongues and interpreting tongues are listed among the various gifts of the Spirit that God may choose to give to believers according to his will (1 Cor. 12:10, 28). The act of speaking in tongues is referred to as “glossolalia” (from Gk. glōssa [“tongue”] and laleō [“speak”]).

Narrative Record

Instances in which believers exercise the gift of tongues are recorded in three biblical narratives, with Acts 2 detailing the most notable occurrence. When the Holy Spirit first was poured out upon Christian believers gathered at Pentecost, visible tongues of fire were accompanied by a Spirit-enabled ability to speak in languages that were foreign to them (2:3–4). In this instance, the tongues spoken are identified as the actual human languages and dialects of various people groups who resided throughout the Mediterranean world (2:8–11). The phenomenon resulted in the ability of many to hear the wonders of God in their native languages and prompted both curiosity and scoffing (2:12–13).

A similar outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon Cornelius and his fellow Gentiles in connection with the ministry of Peter was accompanied by speaking in tongues (Acts 10:44–46). This ability to speak in tongues provided undeniable evidence that God had indeed poured out the Holy Spirit upon Gentile Christians by manifesting the Spirit’s presence in a way comparable to the initial Pentecost experience of the Jewish Christians (11:15–18). A final account from the Pauline ministry notes the coming of the Holy Spirit upon a dozen disciples in Ephesus with the accompanying ability to speak in tongues (19:6). The text does not reveal what languages were spoken in either of these latter episodes.

It is sometimes argued that the gift of tongues normally accompanies Christian salvation or baptism with the Holy Spirit and is a gift that believers should earnestly seek. However, this argument cannot be sustained by the historical narratives of Acts. All three recorded instances of tongues detail the gift coming upon groups of people rather than individuals, and the gift is poured out upon them without their praying for it or seeking it out in any way. Furthermore, these are the only three instances in Scripture where tongues clearly accompany salvation, whereas numerous other Lukan accounts of the salvation of various individuals (Acts 2:41; 4:4; 8:36–39; 13:12, 48; 16:14, 34), including Paul (9:1–19; 22:6–16), contain no mention of the gift of tongues.

Paul’s Teaching

The first-century Corinthian church exercised a variety of spiritual gifts, including the gift of tongues. When Paul writes to that church, he includes teaching designed to correct various abuses of these spiritual gifts. A lengthy discussion about spiritual gifts in 1 Cor. 12–14 affirms the practice of speaking in tongues in the Corinthian assembly under certain conditions (14:39–40) while also relegating it to a status lower than the gift of prophecy (14:5). By its very nature, Paul asserts, those who speak in tongues are not understood by their human audience; utterances in tongues speak to God, not to human beings (14:2). Therefore, on its own, glossolalia cannot edify those who hear it unless an interpretation is also provided for them. For this reason, Paul directs the Corinthians to other spiritual gifts (14:6) that can function to build up the church (14:12). Nonetheless, Paul affirms the practice of glossolalia in the Corinthians’ public worship when it is limited to two or three speakers, when it is done in an orderly manner with the speakers taking turns, and when it is coupled with interpretation so that the church can be edified by its message (14:26–27).

Contemporary Debates

Three questions dominate modern discussions about the gift of tongues: (1) What is the primary purpose of speaking in tongues? (2) What is the nature of the language spoken when the gift of tongues is exercised? (3) Does the gift of tongues continue beyond the apostolic era? Answers to these questions vary and reflect diverse theological positions.

Primary purpose. One position maintains that when the Spirit gives the gift of tongues, it is always a public exercise that produces infallible revelation from God. The primary, or perhaps sole, purpose of this gift of miraculous utterance is as a sign to authenticate the gospel proclamation and thus contribute to the common good of the church as a whole by reaching unbelievers with the gospel in a powerful way. Proponents of this view find support in 1 Cor. 14:22, where Paul speaks of tongues as a sign for unbelievers. Also, the Pentecost experience, narrated in Acts 2, can be understood as a use of tongues that fits into this framework. Opponents object to this interpretation by noting that it was Peter’s subsequent sermon rather than the gift of tongues itself that served an evangelistic purpose.

Others find biblical support for an additional private use of tongues by believers in their prayer and praise directed toward God (1 Cor. 14:2, 28). Although the teaching in 1 Cor. 14 focuses on whether and how tongues are to be used in the public assembly, some adherents of this position point to 14:14–19 for evidence of Paul’s own use of the gift of tongues in his devotional life. This use of tongues is thought to contribute to the common good of the church through the personal edification of the individual believers who practice this gift (14:4) and who make up the believing community.

Nature of the language. It is not entirely clear from Scripture whether the tongues spoken by those with the gift of tongues are human languages otherwise unknown to the speaker, whether they consist of otherworldly (heavenly, angelic, spiritual) languages, or whether both constitute valid options. The record of Pentecost in Acts 2 is the only scriptural narrative of tongues that explicitly identifies the languages spoken by those exercising the gift of tongues; they are human languages. However, three NT passages are cited in support of the broader view.

First, in 1 Cor. 13:1 Paul alludes to the possibility of speech “in the tongues of men or of angels.” While this may affirm the idea of an angelic language being spoken by believers with the gift of tongues, those who limit tongues to human languages see in this statement hyperbole rather than a description of reality.

Second, when Paul discusses tongues in 1 Cor. 14:2, he indicates that no one who hears understands the language. This statement is easily true if the language spoken is “angelic,” but it would also be true of a human language generally unfamiliar to those in the Corinthian worship assembly.

Finally, Rom. 8:26, by describing the Spirit’s intercession in prayer as groans and utterances too deep for words, may support the idea that the gift of tongues consists of a spiritual rather than a human language. Opponents argue that this text in no way speaks of the gift of tongues.

Continuation beyond the apostolic era. Finally, nowhere does Scripture expressly teach that the gift of tongues will continue throughout the entire church age, nor does it clearly state a time, be it the end of the apostolic period, the closing of the NT canon, or some other time, when the gift of tongues will cease. Because the NT describes the gift of tongues functioning among believers in the first century, many believe that the gift of tongues continues to be expressed by God’s new covenant people today.

Continuationists argue that Scripture nowhere anticipates a change in the Holy Spirit’s work or empowerment for ministry, and so the life of Christians today should be similar to that of NT believers with regard to the expected and empowering presence of tongues.

On the other hand, cessationists believe that passages such as Eph. 2:11–21 identify the first century as a unique, foundational time in salvation history, characterized by apostolic leadership and an open canon. Just as there are no longer apostles today, one should not be surprised if the practice of miraculous gifts, including the gift of tongues, should significantly decrease or stop entirely following that foundational time. Some also point to 1 Cor. 13:8 as evidence that a time will come when the gift of tongues will end.

Others opt for an intermediate position, arguing that while speaking in tongues is not the standard for the church era, it is possible that the gift continues to operate today on a more limited scale, most likely only in places where the gospel is making inroads for the first time, a situation comparable to that of the NT era.

Both speaking in tongues and interpreting tongues are listed among the various gifts of the Spirit that God may choose to give to believers according to his will (1 Cor. 12:10, 28). The act of speaking in tongues is referred to as “glossolalia” (from Gk. glōssa [“tongue”] and laleō [“speak”]).

Narrative Record

Instances in which believers exercise the gift of tongues are recorded in three biblical narratives, with Acts 2 detailing the most notable occurrence. When the Holy Spirit first was poured out upon Christian believers gathered at Pentecost, visible tongues of fire were accompanied by a Spirit-enabled ability to speak in languages that were foreign to them (2:3–4). In this instance, the tongues spoken are identified as the actual human languages and dialects of various people groups who resided throughout the Mediterranean world (2:8–11). The phenomenon resulted in the ability of many to hear the wonders of God in their native languages and prompted both curiosity and scoffing (2:12–13).

A similar outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon Cornelius and his fellow Gentiles in connection with the ministry of Peter was accompanied by speaking in tongues (Acts 10:44–46). This ability to speak in tongues provided undeniable evidence that God had indeed poured out the Holy Spirit upon Gentile Christians by manifesting the Spirit’s presence in a way comparable to the initial Pentecost experience of the Jewish Christians (11:15–18). A final account from the Pauline ministry notes the coming of the Holy Spirit upon a dozen disciples in Ephesus with the accompanying ability to speak in tongues (19:6). The text does not reveal what languages were spoken in either of these latter episodes.

It is sometimes argued that the gift of tongues normally accompanies Christian salvation or baptism with the Holy Spirit and is a gift that believers should earnestly seek. However, this argument cannot be sustained by the historical narratives of Acts. All three recorded instances of tongues detail the gift coming upon groups of people rather than individuals, and the gift is poured out upon them without their praying for it or seeking it out in any way. Furthermore, these are the only three instances in Scripture where tongues clearly accompany salvation, whereas numerous other Lukan accounts of the salvation of various individuals (Acts 2:41; 4:4; 8:36–39; 13:12, 48; 16:14, 34), including Paul (9:1–19; 22:6–16), contain no mention of the gift of tongues.

Paul’s Teaching

The first-century Corinthian church exercised a variety of spiritual gifts, including the gift of tongues. When Paul writes to that church, he includes teaching designed to correct various abuses of these spiritual gifts. A lengthy discussion about spiritual gifts in 1 Cor. 12–14 affirms the practice of speaking in tongues in the Corinthian assembly under certain conditions (14:39–40) while also relegating it to a status lower than the gift of prophecy (14:5). By its very nature, Paul asserts, those who speak in tongues are not understood by their human audience; utterances in tongues speak to God, not to human beings (14:2). Therefore, on its own, glossolalia cannot edify those who hear it unless an interpretation is also provided for them. For this reason, Paul directs the Corinthians to other spiritual gifts (14:6) that can function to build up the church (14:12). Nonetheless, Paul affirms the practice of glossolalia in the Corinthians’ public worship when it is limited to two or three speakers, when it is done in an orderly manner with the speakers taking turns, and when it is coupled with interpretation so that the church can be edified by its message (14:26–27).

Contemporary Debates

Three questions dominate modern discussions about the gift of tongues: (1) What is the primary purpose of speaking in tongues? (2) What is the nature of the language spoken when the gift of tongues is exercised? (3) Does the gift of tongues continue beyond the apostolic era? Answers to these questions vary and reflect diverse theological positions.

Primary purpose. One position maintains that when the Spirit gives the gift of tongues, it is always a public exercise that produces infallible revelation from God. The primary, or perhaps sole, purpose of this gift of miraculous utterance is as a sign to authenticate the gospel proclamation and thus contribute to the common good of the church as a whole by reaching unbelievers with the gospel in a powerful way. Proponents of this view find support in 1 Cor. 14:22, where Paul speaks of tongues as a sign for unbelievers. Also, the Pentecost experience, narrated in Acts 2, can be understood as a use of tongues that fits into this framework. Opponents object to this interpretation by noting that it was Peter’s subsequent sermon rather than the gift of tongues itself that served an evangelistic purpose.

Others find biblical support for an additional private use of tongues by believers in their prayer and praise directed toward God (1 Cor. 14:2, 28). Although the teaching in 1 Cor. 14 focuses on whether and how tongues are to be used in the public assembly, some adherents of this position point to 14:14–19 for evidence of Paul’s own use of the gift of tongues in his devotional life. This use of tongues is thought to contribute to the common good of the church through the personal edification of the individual believers who practice this gift (14:4) and who make up the believing community.

Nature of the language. It is not entirely clear from Scripture whether the tongues spoken by those with the gift of tongues are human languages otherwise unknown to the speaker, whether they consist of otherworldly (heavenly, angelic, spiritual) languages, or whether both constitute valid options. The record of Pentecost in Acts 2 is the only scriptural narrative of tongues that explicitly identifies the languages spoken by those exercising the gift of tongues; they are human languages. However, three NT passages are cited in support of the broader view.

First, in 1 Cor. 13:1 Paul alludes to the possibility of speech “in the tongues of men or of angels.” While this may affirm the idea of an angelic language being spoken by believers with the gift of tongues, those who limit tongues to human languages see in this statement hyperbole rather than a description of reality.

Second, when Paul discusses tongues in 1 Cor. 14:2, he indicates that no one who hears understands the language. This statement is easily true if the language spoken is “angelic,” but it would also be true of a human language generally unfamiliar to those in the Corinthian worship assembly.

Finally, Rom. 8:26, by describing the Spirit’s intercession in prayer as groans and utterances too deep for words, may support the idea that the gift of tongues consists of a spiritual rather than a human language. Opponents argue that this text in no way speaks of the gift of tongues.

Continuation beyond the apostolic era. Finally, nowhere does Scripture expressly teach that the gift of tongues will continue throughout the entire church age, nor does it clearly state a time, be it the end of the apostolic period, the closing of the NT canon, or some other time, when the gift of tongues will cease. Because the NT describes the gift of tongues functioning among believers in the first century, many believe that the gift of tongues continues to be expressed by God’s new covenant people today.

Continuationists argue that Scripture nowhere anticipates a change in the Holy Spirit’s work or empowerment for ministry, and so the life of Christians today should be similar to that of NT believers with regard to the expected and empowering presence of tongues.

On the other hand, cessationists believe that passages such as Eph. 2:11–21 identify the first century as a unique, foundational time in salvation history, characterized by apostolic leadership and an open canon. Just as there are no longer apostles today, one should not be surprised if the practice of miraculous gifts, including the gift of tongues, should significantly decrease or stop entirely following that foundational time. Some also point to 1 Cor. 13:8 as evidence that a time will come when the gift of tongues will end.

Others opt for an intermediate position, arguing that while speaking in tongues is not the standard for the church era, it is possible that the gift continues to operate today on a more limited scale, most likely only in places where the gospel is making inroads for the first time, a situation comparable to that of the NT era.

The word “Gentiles” is often used to translate words meaning “nations” or “peoples.” It has a Latin etymology from gens, meaning “clan” or “family” and, eventually, “race” or “people.” The Greek word genos (“race, kind”) has a close relationship. In the Bible it loosely refers to nations or peoples other than Israel. English Bibles often translate it as “nations,” “peoples,” or “races.”

Old Testament

In general, within the OT, Gentiles are not God’s people. God chose Israel to be his people, not other nations (Deut. 7:6–8; 10:15; 26:18–19). Israelite ancestry determines membership in the covenant people. Some writings thus forbid Gentiles from becoming part of God’s people (Ezra 9–10; Neh. 13).

The OT more commonly envisions Gentiles experiencing covenant blessing through Israel if they functionally become Israelites by keeping the law, including the parts we understand as ceremonial-ritual law. The law is that special life-giving and regulating aspect of the covenant that God revealed to Israel, which defines Israel (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 will reach and restore the world through Israel, the locus of his saving activity. God will bless the nations in and through Abraham’s descendants, Israel (Gen. 12:1–3; 17:4–6; 22:18; 26:4; 28:14). This covenant specifically involves keeping the law (e.g., circumcision [Gen. 17:9–14]). Some passages depict this happening through the nations being subject to Israel (Gen. 49:8–12; Num. 24:9, 17–19; Isa. 11:10–16; 14:2; 54:3). In other passages the nations will be blessed by Israel’s God as they come to Israel, bring back exiled Israel, serve Israel, present Israel with their own wealth, and/or fear Israel’s God (Isa. 45:23; 49:22–23; 51:4–5; 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 (Exod. 12:48; Isa. 56:1–8; Jer. 12:14–17; Zech. 14:16–21). The portrait of the nations “flowing” up the mountain of God associates Gentile participation in God’s salvation explicitly with the law (Isa. 2:2–5; Mic. 4:1–5).

The Servant Songs in Isa. 40–55 also reflect this law/Israel-centered nature of salvation for the Gentiles. The servant, explicitly identified as Israel (41:8, 9; 42:18–19; 44:1–2, 21; 45:4; 48:20; 49:3; 54:17; see also 65:9; 66:14), serves as God’s instrument for reaching the nations (42:1, 6; 49:6; 52:15). The OT usually condemns Gentiles who remain separate from Israel to some form of judgment, especially Gentiles who have harmed Israel.

Second Temple Judaism and Early Christianity

Second Temple Jewish sources exhibit diverse views about Gentiles, their nature, their possible relation to God, and their fate at the end. Many reflect something resembling the OT views. Israel as God’s people defined by the law, variously understood and contested among Second Temple sources, generally continues to be the locus of God’s ultimate blessing activities.

Situating Jesus and early Christianity within this matrix of Gentile sensitivities is illuminating. As the Jesus movement spread across the Mediterranean, proclaiming the ultimate salvation of the God of Israel in and through Jesus the Messiah, questions about how Gentiles experience this salvation of the Jewish God had paramount importance.

Some Christians, in line with traditional readings of the OT, thought that Gentiles must keep the law, becoming Jews to experience the God of Israel’s salvation in Jesus (Acts 11:1–3; 15:1, 5; Paul’s opponents in Galatia). Gentiles, after all, were separated from God and his salvation promises to Israel (Rom. 9:4–5; Eph. 2:11–13; 1 Pet. 2:10). They stood under God’s condemnation, especially because they were 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).

However, various NT authors, such as Paul, contend that Gentiles need not keep the law, functionally becoming Jews, in order to participate in God’s ultimate salvation in Jesus. Christ, the climax of Israel itself, has replaced the law’s centrality and ultimacy with himself and his death and resurrection (Rom. 10:4). Through being united to Christ by the Spirit, Gentiles are, apart from the law, grafted into true, redefined Israel and become Abraham’s descendants, inheriting God’s promised salvation for Israel (Rom. 3:21–4:25; 8:1–17; 9:30–10:17; 11:13–32; Gal. 2:11–4:7; Eph. 2:11–22; 3:4–6). In Christ, by the Spirit, Gentiles attain self-mastery over their passions and sin and thus live rightly before God, inheriting the kingdom of God in Christ (Rom. 6:1–8:30; 1 Cor. 6:9–11; Gal. 5:16–26; 1 Thess. 4:3–8). Various NT writings thus reconfigure the situation of Gentiles with respect to Israel’s God because of what God did in Christ.

Debates about Gentiles, the law, salvation, and what Christ means for these issues persisted after Paul. Early Christians lacked an unequivocal saying from Jesus on the matter, and not all accepted Paul and some other NT writings.

The present abode of God and the final dwelling place of the righteous. The ancient Jews distinguished three different heavens. The first heaven was the atmospheric heavens of the clouds and where the birds fly (Gen. 1:20). The second heaven was the celestial heavens of the sun, the moon, and the stars. The third heaven was the present home of God and the angels. Paul builds on this understanding of a third heaven in 2 Cor. 12:2–4, where he describes himself as a man who “was caught up to the third heaven” or “paradise,” where he “heard inexpressible things.” This idea of multiple heavens also shows itself in how the Jews normally spoke of “heavens” in the plural (Gen. 1:1), while most other ancient cultures spoke of “heaven” in the singular.

The Abode of God

One of the challenges in understanding “heaven” as the present dwelling place of God involves God’s omnipresence. In one sense, God is present everywhere. David asks in Ps. 139:7, “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?” He answers that regardless of whether he goes as high up as anyone can go (“up to the heavens”), as low down as anyone can go (“in the depths), as far east as anyone can go (“the wings of the dawn”), or as far west as anyone can go (“the far side of the sea”), God is still there (Ps. 139:8–9).

Although God is present everywhere, God is also present in a special way in “heaven.” During Jesus’ earthly ministry, the Father is sometimes described as speaking in “a voice from heaven” (Matt. 3:17). Similarly, Jesus instructs us to address our prayers to “Our Father in heaven” (6:9). Even the specific request in the Lord’s Prayer that “your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (6:10) reminds us that heaven is a place already under God’s full jurisdiction, where his will is presently being done completely and perfectly. Jesus also warns of the dangers of despising “one of these little ones,” because “their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven” (18:10). Jesus “came down from heaven” (John 6:51) for his earthly ministry, and after his death and resurrection, he ascended back “into heaven,” from where he “will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven” (Acts 1:11).

At times, “heaven” becomes virtually a synonym for God himself. In the parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15, the son confesses to his father, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you” (v. 21). This son’s sin against “heaven” has nothing to do with environmental issues such as air pollution, and everything to do with his relationship with God. Note also Matthew’s expression “the kingdom of heaven” versus “the kingdom of God” used elsewhere.

The Final Dwelling Place for Believers

Given this strong connection between heaven and God’s presence, there is a natural connection in Scripture between heaven and the ultimate hope of believers. Believers are promised a reward in heaven (“Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven” [Matt. 5:12]), and even now believers can “store up for [themselves] treasures in heaven” (6:20). Even in this present life, “our citizenship is in heaven” (Phil. 3:20), and our hope at death is to “depart and be with Christ, which is better by far” (1:23). Since Christ is currently in heaven, deceased believers are already present with Christ in heaven awaiting his return, when “God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him” (1 Thess. 4:14).

However, this picture of heaven is more complicated. It is true that heaven is sometimes used in Scripture to refer to the present abode of all departed believers who have left this present life and entered the intermediate state between death and the bodily resurrection (2 Cor. 5:4). It is this hope in a bodily resurrection that sets Christianity apart from other religions. Ultimately, the Christian hope is not that people will receive new physical bodies and float around some ethereal “heaven” like astronauts in outer space for all eternity. Instead, God has created human beings with physical bodies to inhabit a physical world, and our future hope is one of new resurrection bodies inhabiting new heavens and a new earth (Isa. 65:17; 66:22; 2 Pet. 3:13). Just as there will be a certain continuity between the bodies of believers in this present life and their new resurrection bodies (we will know one another), there will also be a certain continuity between this present earth and the new earth to come. Yet, at the same time, everything will also be changed and made new and perfect, as God has designed it to be (Rom. 8:18–21).

The clearest description of this new reality is found in Rev. 21–22, where John describes how he “saw ‘a new heaven and a new earth,’ for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away” (21:1). Here is “the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband” (21:2), when “God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (21:3–4). Even better than all the descriptions of such things as streets of “gold, as pure as transparent glass” (21:21) is that God himself will come and dwell in the midst of his people. As Paul has phrased it, “Now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face” (1 Cor. 13:12). The day will come when we will see God as he is, in all his glory (1 John 3:2).

Two other ideas complete our picture of life in these new heavens and new earth. Heaven will be a place of continued activity and service. Notice Jesus’ blessing in Matt. 25:21: “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things.” The other principle is that there will be different degrees of reward. Although our ultimate reward is simply being with God himself, Paul also reminds us that if what believers do with their lives “survives, the builder will receive a reward,” and if what they do “is burned up, the builder will suffer loss” (1 Cor. 3:14–15 NRSV). Our choices make a difference for time and eternity (cf. Rev. 14:13). See also Heavens, New.

The present abode of God and the final dwelling place of the righteous. The ancient Jews distinguished three different heavens. The first heaven was the atmospheric heavens of the clouds and where the birds fly (Gen. 1:20). The second heaven was the celestial heavens of the sun, the moon, and the stars. The third heaven was the present home of God and the angels. Paul builds on this understanding of a third heaven in 2 Cor. 12:2–4, where he describes himself as a man who “was caught up to the third heaven” or “paradise,” where he “heard inexpressible things.” This idea of multiple heavens also shows itself in how the Jews normally spoke of “heavens” in the plural (Gen. 1:1), while most other ancient cultures spoke of “heaven” in the singular.

The Abode of God

One of the challenges in understanding “heaven” as the present dwelling place of God involves God’s omnipresence. In one sense, God is present everywhere. David asks in Ps. 139:7, “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?” He answers that regardless of whether he goes as high up as anyone can go (“up to the heavens”), as low down as anyone can go (“in the depths), as far east as anyone can go (“the wings of the dawn”), or as far west as anyone can go (“the far side of the sea”), God is still there (Ps. 139:8–9).

Although God is present everywhere, God is also present in a special way in “heaven.” During Jesus’ earthly ministry, the Father is sometimes described as speaking in “a voice from heaven” (Matt. 3:17). Similarly, Jesus instructs us to address our prayers to “Our Father in heaven” (6:9). Even the specific request in the Lord’s Prayer that “your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (6:10) reminds us that heaven is a place already under God’s full jurisdiction, where his will is presently being done completely and perfectly. Jesus also warns of the dangers of despising “one of these little ones,” because “their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven” (18:10). Jesus “came down from heaven” (John 6:51) for his earthly ministry, and after his death and resurrection, he ascended back “into heaven,” from where he “will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven” (Acts 1:11).

At times, “heaven” becomes virtually a synonym for God himself. In the parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15, the son confesses to his father, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you” (v. 21). This son’s sin against “heaven” has nothing to do with environmental issues such as air pollution, and everything to do with his relationship with God. Note also Matthew’s expression “the kingdom of heaven” versus “the kingdom of God” used elsewhere.

The Final Dwelling Place for Believers

Given this strong connection between heaven and God’s presence, there is a natural connection in Scripture between heaven and the ultimate hope of believers. Believers are promised a reward in heaven (“Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven” [Matt. 5:12]), and even now believers can “store up for [themselves] treasures in heaven” (6:20). Even in this present life, “our citizenship is in heaven” (Phil. 3:20), and our hope at death is to “depart and be with Christ, which is better by far” (1:23). Since Christ is currently in heaven, deceased believers are already present with Christ in heaven awaiting his return, when “God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him” (1 Thess. 4:14).

However, this picture of heaven is more complicated. It is true that heaven is sometimes used in Scripture to refer to the present abode of all departed believers who have left this present life and entered the intermediate state between death and the bodily resurrection (2 Cor. 5:4). It is this hope in a bodily resurrection that sets Christianity apart from other religions. Ultimately, the Christian hope is not that people will receive new physical bodies and float around some ethereal “heaven” like astronauts in outer space for all eternity. Instead, God has created human beings with physical bodies to inhabit a physical world, and our future hope is one of new resurrection bodies inhabiting new heavens and a new earth (Isa. 65:17; 66:22; 2 Pet. 3:13). Just as there will be a certain continuity between the bodies of believers in this present life and their new resurrection bodies (we will know one another), there will also be a certain continuity between this present earth and the new earth to come. Yet, at the same time, everything will also be changed and made new and perfect, as God has designed it to be (Rom. 8:18–21).

The clearest description of this new reality is found in Rev. 21–22, where John describes how he “saw ‘a new heaven and a new earth,’ for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away” (21:1). Here is “the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband” (21:2), when “God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (21:3–4). Even better than all the descriptions of such things as streets of “gold, as pure as transparent glass” (21:21) is that God himself will come and dwell in the midst of his people. As Paul has phrased it, “Now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face” (1 Cor. 13:12). The day will come when we will see God as he is, in all his glory (1 John 3:2).

Two other ideas complete our picture of life in these new heavens and new earth. Heaven will be a place of continued activity and service. Notice Jesus’ blessing in Matt. 25:21: “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things.” The other principle is that there will be different degrees of reward. Although our ultimate reward is simply being with God himself, Paul also reminds us that if what believers do with their lives “survives, the builder will receive a reward,” and if what they do “is burned up, the builder will suffer loss” (1 Cor. 3:14–15 NRSV). Our choices make a difference for time and eternity (cf. Rev. 14:13). See also Heavens, New.

Origins, Composition, and Constitution

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

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

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

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

Form and Function

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

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

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

Humanity in Pauline Thought

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

There are few subjects more prominent in the Bible than sin; hardly a page can be found where sin is not mentioned, described, or portrayed. As the survey that follows demonstrates, sin is one of the driving forces of the entire Bible.

Sin in the Bible

Old Testament. Sin enters the biblical story in Gen. 3. Despite God’s commandment to the contrary (2:16–17), Eve ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil at the prompting of the serpent. When Adam joined Eve in eating the fruit, their rebellion was complete. They attempted to cover their guilt and shame, but the fig leaves were inadequate. God confronted them and was unimpressed with their attempts to shift the blame. Judgment fell heavily on the serpent, Eve, and Adam; even creation itself was affected (3:17–18).

In the midst of judgment, God made it clear in two specific ways that sin did not have the last word. First, God cryptically promised to put hostility between the offspring of the serpent and that of the woman (Gen. 3:15). Although the serpent would inflict a severe blow upon the offspring of the woman, the offspring of the woman would defeat the serpent. Second, God replaced the inadequate covering of the fig leaves with animal skins (3:21). The implication is that the death of the animal functioned as a substitute for Adam and Eve, covering their sin.

In Gen. 4–11 the disastrous effects of sin and death are on full display. Not even the cataclysmic judgment of the flood was able to eradicate the wickedness of the human heart (6:5; 8:21). Humans gathered in rebellion at the tower of Babel in an effort to make a name for themselves and thwart God’s intention for them to scatter across the earth (11:1–9).

In one sense, the rest of the OT hangs on this question: How will a holy God satisfy his wrath against human sin and restore his relationship with human beings without compromising his justice? The short answer is: through Abraham and his offspring (Gen. 12:1–3), who eventually multiplied into the nation of Israel. After God redeemed them from their slavery in Egypt (Exod. 1–15), he brought them to Sinai to make a covenant with them that was predicated on obedience (19:5–6). A central component of this covenant was the sacrificial system (e.g., Lev. 1–7), which God provided as a means of dealing with sin. In addition to the regular sacrifices made for sin throughout the year, God set apart one day a year to atone for Israel’s sins (Lev. 16). On this Day of Atonement the high priest took the blood of a goat into the holy of holies and sprinkled it on the mercy seat as a sin offering. Afterward he took a second goat and confessed “all the iniquities of the people of Israel, and all their transgressions, all their sins, putting them on the head of the goat, and sending it away into the wilderness. . . . The goat shall bear on itself all their iniquities to a barren region; and the goat shall be set free in the wilderness” (Lev. 16:21–22 NRSV). In order for the holy God to dwell with sinful people, extensive provisions had to be made to enable fellowship.

Despite these provisions, Israel repeatedly and persistently broke its covenant with God. Even at the highest points of prosperity under the reign of David and his son Solomon, sin plagued God’s people, including the kings themselves. David committed adultery and murder (2 Sam. 11:1–27). Solomon had hundreds of foreign wives and concubines, who turned his heart away from Yahweh to other gods (1 Kings 11:1–8). Once the nation split into two (Israel and Judah), sin and its consequences accelerated. Idolatry became rampant. The result was exile from the land (Israel in 722 BC, Judah in 586 BC). But God refused to give up on his people. He promised to raise up a servant who would suffer for the sins of his people as a guilt offering (Isa. 52:13–53:12).

After God’s people returned from exile, hopes remained high that the great prophetic promises, including the final remission of sins, were at hand. But disillusionment quickly set in as the returnees remained under foreign oppression, the rebuilt temple was but a shell of Solomon’s, and a Davidic king was nowhere to be found. Before long, God’s people were back to their old ways, turning away from him. Even the priests, who were charged with the administration of the sacrificial system dealing with the sin of the people, failed to properly carry out their duties (Mal. 1:6–2:9).

New Testament. During the next four hundred years of prophetic silence, the longing for God to finally put away the sins of his people grew. At last, when the conception and birth of Jesus were announced, it was revealed that he would “save his people from their sins” (Matt. 1:21). In the days before the public ministry of Jesus, John the Baptist prepared the way for him by “preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Luke 3:3). Whereas both Adam and Israel were disobedient sons of God, Jesus proved to be the obedient Son by his faithfulness to God in the face of temptation (Matt. 2:13–15; 4:1–11; 26:36–46; Luke 3:23–4:13; Rom. 5:12–21; Phil. 2:8; Heb. 5:8–10). He was also the Suffering Servant who gave his life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45; cf. Isa. 52:13–53:12). On the cross Jesus experienced the wrath of God that God’s people rightly deserved for their sin. With his justice fully satisfied, God was free to forgive and justify all who are identified with Christ by faith (Rom. 3:21–26). What neither the law nor the blood of bulls and goats could do, Jesus Christ did with his own blood (Rom. 8:3–4; Heb. 9:1–10:18).

After his resurrection and ascension, Jesus’ followers began proclaiming the “good news” (gospel) of what Jesus did and calling to people, “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins” (Acts 2:38). As people began to experience God’s forgiveness, they were so transformed that they forgave those who sinned against them (Matt. 6:12; 18:15–20; Col. 3:13). Although believers continue to struggle with sin in this life (Rom. 8:12–13; Gal. 5:16–25), sin is no longer master over them (Rom. 6:1–23). The Holy Spirit empowers them to fight sin as they long for the new heaven and earth, where there will be no sin, no death, and no curse (Rom. 8:12–30; Rev. 21–22).

As even this very brief survey of the biblical story line from Genesis to Revelation shows, sin is a fundamental aspect of the Bible’s plot. Sin generates the conflict that drives the biblical narrative; it is the fundamental “problem” that must be solved in order for God’s purposes in creation to be completed.

Definition and Terminology

Definition of sin. Although no definition can capture completely the breadth and depth of the concept of sin, it seems best to regard sin as a failure to conform to God’s law in thought, feeling, attitude, word, action, orientation, or nature. In this definition it must be remembered that God’s law is an expression of his perfect and holy character, so sin is not merely the violation of an impersonal law but rather is a personal offense against the Creator. Sin cannot be limited to actions. Desires (Exod. 20:17; Matt. 5:27–30), emotions (Gen. 4:6–7; Matt. 5:21–26), and even our fallen nature as human beings (Ps. 51:5; Eph. 2:1–3) can be sinful as well.

Terminology. The Bible uses dozens of terms to speak of sin. Neatly classifying them is not easy, as there is significant overlap in the meaning and use of the various terms. Nonetheless, many of the terms fit in one of the following four categories.

1. Personal. Sin is an act of rebellion against God as the creator and ruler of the universe. Rather than recognizing God’s self-revelation in nature and expressing gratitude, humankind foolishly worships the creation rather than the Creator (Rom. 1:19–23). The abundant love, grace, and mercy that God shows to humans make their rebellion all the more stunning (Isa. 1:2–31). Another way of expressing the personal nature of sin is ungodliness or impiety, which refers to lack of devotion to God (Ps. 35:16; Isa. 9:17; 1 Pet. 4:18).

2. Legal. A variety of words portray sin in terms drawn from the lawcourts. Words such as “transgression” and “trespass” picture sin as the violation of a specific command of God or the crossing of a boundary that God has established (Num. 14:41–42; Rom. 4:7, 15). When individuals do things that are contrary to God’s law, they are deemed unrighteous or unjust (Isa. 10:1; Matt. 5:45; Rom. 3:5). Breaking the covenant with God is described as violating his statutes and disobeying his laws (Isa. 24:5). The result is guilt, an objective legal status that is present whenever God’s law is violated regardless of whether the individual subjectively feels guilt.

3. Moral. In the most basic sense, sin is evil, the opposite of what is good. Therefore, God’s people are to hate evil and love what is good (Amos 5:14–15; Rom. 12:9). Similarly, Scripture contrasts the upright and the wicked (Prov. 11:11; 12:6; 14:11). One could also include here the term “iniquity,” which is used to speak of perversity or crookedness (Pss. 51:2; 78:38; Isa. 59:2). Frequent mention is also made of sexual immorality as an especially grievous departure from God’s ways (Num. 25:1; Rom. 1:26–27; 1 Cor. 5:1–11).

4. Cultic. In order for a person to approach a holy God, that individual had to be in a state of purity before him. While a person could become impure without necessarily sinning (e.g., a menstruating woman was impure but not sinful), in some cases the term “impurity” clearly refers to a sinful state (Lev. 20:21; Isa. 1:25; Ezek. 24:13). The same is true of the term “unclean.” Although it is frequently used in Leviticus to speak of ritual purity, in other places it clearly refers to sinful actions or states (Ps. 51:7; Prov. 20:9; Isa. 6:5; 64:6).

Metaphors

In addition to specific terms used for “sin,” the Bible uses several metaphors or images to describe it. The following four are among the more prominent.

Missing the mark. In both Hebrew and Greek, two of the most common words for “sin” have the sense of missing the mark. But this does not mean that sin is reduced to a mistake or an oversight. The point is not that a person simply misses the mark of what God requires; instead, it is that he or she is aiming for the wrong target altogether (Exod. 34:9; Deut. 9:18). Regardless of whether missing the mark is intentional or not, the individual is still responsible (Lev. 4:2–31; Num. 15:30).

Departing from the way. Sin as departing from God’s way is especially prominent in the wisdom literature. Contrasts are drawn between the way of the righteous and the way of the wicked (Ps. 1:1, 6; Prov. 4:11–19). Wisdom is pictured as a woman who summons people to walk in her ways, but fools ignore her and depart from her ways (Prov. 9:1–18). Those who do not walk in God’s ways are eventually destroyed by their own wickedness (Prov. 11:5; 12:26; 13:15).

Adultery. Since God’s relationship with his people is described as a marriage (Isa. 62:4–5; Ezek. 16:8–14; Eph. 5:25–32), it is not surprising that the Bible describes their unfaithfulness as adultery. The prophet Hosea’s marriage to an adulterous woman vividly portrays Israel’s unfaithfulness to Yahweh (Hos. 1–3). When the Israelites chase after other gods, Yahweh accuses them of spiritual adultery in extremely graphic terms (Ezek. 16:15–52). When Christians join themselves to a prostitute or participate in idolatry, they too are engaged in spiritual adultery (1 Cor. 6:12–20; 10:1–22).

Slavery. Sin is portrayed as a power that enslaves. The prophets make it clear that Israel’s bondage to foreign powers is in fact a picture of its far greater enslavement to sin (Isa. 42:8; 43:4–7; 49:1–12). Paul makes a similar point when he refers to those who do not know Christ as slaves to sin, unable to do anything that pleases God (Rom. 6:1–23; 8:5–8). Sin is a cosmic power that is capable of using even the law to entrap people in its snare (Rom. 7:7–25).

Scope and Consequences

Sin does not travel alone; it brings a large collection of baggage along with it. Here we briefly examine its scope and consequences.

Scope. The stain of sin extends to every part of the created order. As a result of Adam’s sin, the ground was cursed to resist human efforts to cultivate it, producing thorns and thistles (Gen. 3:17–18). The promised land is described as groaning under the weight of Israel’s sin and in need of Sabbath rest (2 Chron. 36:21; Jer. 12:4); Paul applies the same language to all creation as well (Rom. 8:19–22).

Sin affects every aspect of the individual: mind, heart, will, emotions, motives, actions, and nature (Gen. 6:5; 8:21; Jer. 17:9; Rom. 3:9–18). Sometimes this reality is referred to as “total depravity.” This phrase means not that people are as sinful as they could be but rather that every aspect of their lives is tainted by sin. As a descendant of Adam, every person enters the world as a sinner who then sins (Rom. 5:12–21). Sin also pollutes societal structures, corrupting culture, governments, nations, and economic markets, to name but a few.

Consequences. Since the two greatest commandments are to love God and to love one’s neighbor as oneself (Matt. 22:34–40), it makes sense that sin has consequences on both the vertical and the horizontal level. Vertically, sin results in both physical and spiritual death (Gen. 2:16–17; Rom. 5:12–14). It renders humanity guilty in God’s court of law, turns us into God’s enemies, and subjects us to God’s righteous wrath (Rom. 1:18; 3:19–20; 5:6–11). On the horizontal level, sin causes conflict between individuals and harms relationships of every kind. It breeds mistrust, jealousy, and selfishness that infect even the closest relationships.

Conclusion

No subject is more unpleasant than sin. But a proper understanding of sin is essential for understanding the gospel of Jesus Christ. As the Puritan Thomas Watson put it, “Until sin be bitter, Christ will not be sweet.”

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

Mishpat and Tsedaqah

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

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

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

God as the Source and Model of Justice

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

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

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

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

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

Heaven and Earth

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

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

The Theology of Land

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

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

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

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

Inheritance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because Scripture sees all things as providentially arranged and sustained by God’s sovereign power at all times (Heb. 1:3), miracles are not aberrations in an otherwise closed and mechanical universe. Nor are miracles raw demonstrations of divinity designed to overcome prejudice or unbelief and to convince people of the existence of God (Mark 8:11–12). Still less are they clever conjuring tricks involving some kind of deception that can be otherwise explained on a purely scientific basis. Rather, God in his infinite wisdom sometimes does unusual and extraordinary things to call attention to himself and his activity. Miracles are divinely ordained acts of God that dramatically alert us to the presence of his glory and power and advance his saving purposes in redemptive history.

Terminology

The biblical writers describe miracles with various terms, such as “signs,” “wonders,” and “miracles” (or “powers”), which can carry various connotations. As the word “sign” suggests, divine miracles are significant and should cause us to think more deeply about God in a way that goes beyond mere amazement or curiosity (Exod. 4:30–31; John 2:11). Not all of God’s signs are miraculous. Some are given as part of his ordering of the natural world (Gen. 1:14) or as an encouragement to faith that God will do as he has said (e.g., the rainbow in Gen. 9:8–17; the blood of the Passover lamb in Exod. 12:13). (See also Sign.)

Often coupled with signs are “wonders” (Jer. 32:21; John 4:48; 2 Cor. 12:12). If the depiction of miracles as “signs” indicates an appeal to the intellect, that of “wonders” points to the emotions. Miracles evoke astonishment and awe at the one who did them.

The NT word “miracle” carries the meaning of power and therefore points to the supernatural source of these events (Luke 10:13; Acts 8:13).

Miracles in the Bible

Old Testament. In the OT, miracles are not evenly distributed but rather are found in greater number during times of great redemptive significance, such as the exodus and the conquest of Canaan. Miracles were performed also during periods of apostasy, such as in the days of the ninth-century prophets Elijah and Elisha. Common to both of these eras is the powerful demonstration of the superiority of God over pagan deities (Exod. 7–12; 1 Kings 18:20–40).

New Testament. In the NT, miracles often are acts of compassion, but more significantly they attest the exalted status of Jesus of Nazareth (Acts 2:22) and the saving power of his word (Heb. 2:3–4). In the Synoptic Gospels, they reveal the coming of God’s kingdom and the conquest of Satan’s dominion (Matt. 8:16–17; 12:22–30; Mark 3:27). They point to the person of Jesus as the promised Messiah of OT Scripture (Matt. 4:23; 11:4–6). John shows a preference for the word “signs,” and his Gospel is structured around them (John 20:30–31). According to John, the signs that Jesus performed were such that only the one who stood in a unique relationship to the Father as the Son of God could do them.

Miracles and faith. Just as entrenched skepticism is injurious to faith, so too is naive credulity, for although signs and wonders witness to God, false prophets also perform them “to deceive, if possible, even the elect” (Matt. 24:24). Christians are to exercise discernment and not be led astray by such impostors (Matt. 7:15–20).

The relationship between miracles and faith is not as straightforward as sometimes supposed. Miracles do not necessarily produce faith, nor does faith necessarily produce miracles. Miracles were intended to bring about the faith that leads to eternal life (John 20:31), but not all who witnessed them believed (John 10:32). Additionally, Jesus regarded a faith that rested only on the miracle itself as precarious (Mark 8:11–13; John 2:23–25; 4:48), though better than no faith at all (John 10:38). Faith that saves must ultimately find its grounding in the person of Jesus as the Son of God.

It is also clear that although Jesus always encouraged faith in those who came to him for help (Mark 9:23), and that he deliberately limited his miraculous powers in the presence of unbelief (Mark 6:5), many of his miracles were performed on those who did not or could not exercise faith (Matt. 12:22; Mark 1:23–28; 5:1–20; Luke 14:1–4).

The fact that Jesus performed miracles was never an issue; rather, his opponents disputed the source of his power (Mark 3:22). Arguments about his identity were to be settled by appeal not to miracles but to the word of God (Matt. 22:41–46).

The function of miracles. Miracle accounts function in a symbolic and prophetic manner. Hence, the cursing of the fig tree was prophetic of the coming judgment (Mark 11:12–21). The unusual two-stage healing of the blind man of Bethsaida symbolized Peter’s incomplete understanding of Jesus’ messiahship (Mark 8:22–33).

The miraculous element of Jesus’ ministry carries an eschatological significance, pointing to the order of things in the age to come. For example, the nature miracles (Mark 4:35–41) look forward to the redemption of creation itself, which is presently subject to frustration and decay (Rom. 8:20–21); the healing miracles point to a day when disease and deformity will be abolished (Rev. 21:4); and miracles in which the dead are raised to life anticipate a time when death itself will be no more (Rev. 20:14; 21:4). From this perspective, the miracles are a gracious foretaste of a far more glorious future.

The word “Gentiles” is often used to translate words meaning “nations” or “peoples.” It has a Latin etymology from gens, meaning “clan” or “family” and, eventually, “race” or “people.” The Greek word genos (“race, kind”) has a close relationship. In the Bible it loosely refers to nations or peoples other than Israel. English Bibles often translate it as “nations,” “peoples,” or “races.”

Old Testament

In general, within the OT, Gentiles are not God’s people. God chose Israel to be his people, not other nations (Deut. 7:6–8; 10:15; 26:18–19). Israelite ancestry determines membership in the covenant people. Some writings thus forbid Gentiles from becoming part of God’s people (Ezra 9–10; Neh. 13).

The OT more commonly envisions Gentiles experiencing covenant blessing through Israel if they functionally become Israelites by keeping the law, including the parts we understand as ceremonial-ritual law. The law is that special life-giving and regulating aspect of the covenant that God revealed to Israel, which defines Israel (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 will reach and restore the world through Israel, the locus of his saving activity. God will bless the nations in and through Abraham’s descendants, Israel (Gen. 12:1–3; 17:4–6; 22:18; 26:4; 28:14). This covenant specifically involves keeping the law (e.g., circumcision [Gen. 17:9–14]). Some passages depict this happening through the nations being subject to Israel (Gen. 49:8–12; Num. 24:9, 17–19; Isa. 11:10–16; 14:2; 54:3). In other passages the nations will be blessed by Israel’s God as they come to Israel, bring back exiled Israel, serve Israel, present Israel with their own wealth, and/or fear Israel’s God (Isa. 45:23; 49:22–23; 51:4–5; 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 (Exod. 12:48; Isa. 56:1–8; Jer. 12:14–17; Zech. 14:16–21). The portrait of the nations “flowing” up the mountain of God associates Gentile participation in God’s salvation explicitly with the law (Isa. 2:2–5; Mic. 4:1–5).

The Servant Songs in Isa. 40–55 also reflect this law/Israel-centered nature of salvation for the Gentiles. The servant, explicitly identified as Israel (41:8, 9; 42:18–19; 44:1–2, 21; 45:4; 48:20; 49:3; 54:17; see also 65:9; 66:14), serves as God’s instrument for reaching the nations (42:1, 6; 49:6; 52:15). The OT usually condemns Gentiles who remain separate from Israel to some form of judgment, especially Gentiles who have harmed Israel.

Second Temple Judaism and Early Christianity

Second Temple Jewish sources exhibit diverse views about Gentiles, their nature, their possible relation to God, and their fate at the end. Many reflect something resembling the OT views. Israel as God’s people defined by the law, variously understood and contested among Second Temple sources, generally continues to be the locus of God’s ultimate blessing activities.

Situating Jesus and early Christianity within this matrix of Gentile sensitivities is illuminating. As the Jesus movement spread across the Mediterranean, proclaiming the ultimate salvation of the God of Israel in and through Jesus the Messiah, questions about how Gentiles experience this salvation of the Jewish God had paramount importance.

Some Christians, in line with traditional readings of the OT, thought that Gentiles must keep the law, becoming Jews to experience the God of Israel’s salvation in Jesus (Acts 11:1–3; 15:1, 5; Paul’s opponents in Galatia). Gentiles, after all, were separated from God and his salvation promises to Israel (Rom. 9:4–5; Eph. 2:11–13; 1 Pet. 2:10). They stood under God’s condemnation, especially because they were 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).

However, various NT authors, such as Paul, contend that Gentiles need not keep the law, functionally becoming Jews, in order to participate in God’s ultimate salvation in Jesus. Christ, the climax of Israel itself, has replaced the law’s centrality and ultimacy with himself and his death and resurrection (Rom. 10:4). Through being united to Christ by the Spirit, Gentiles are, apart from the law, grafted into true, redefined Israel and become Abraham’s descendants, inheriting God’s promised salvation for Israel (Rom. 3:21–4:25; 8:1–17; 9:30–10:17; 11:13–32; Gal. 2:11–4:7; Eph. 2:11–22; 3:4–6). In Christ, by the Spirit, Gentiles attain self-mastery over their passions and sin and thus live rightly before God, inheriting the kingdom of God in Christ (Rom. 6:1–8:30; 1 Cor. 6:9–11; Gal. 5:16–26; 1 Thess. 4:3–8). Various NT writings thus reconfigure the situation of Gentiles with respect to Israel’s God because of what God did in Christ.

Debates about Gentiles, the law, salvation, and what Christ means for these issues persisted after Paul. Early Christians lacked an unequivocal saying from Jesus on the matter, and not all accepted Paul and some other NT writings.

There is at least some confusion surrounding the ultimate hope that God has planned for his people. Many have assumed that the references in Scripture to heaven mean that our ultimate destiny is essentially to become disembodied spirits, floating around in outer space. Such a view is actually far closer to the Greek concept of the immortality of the soul (where the soul is understood to be imprisoned in a physical body and freed only at death) than it is to the Christian view of a bodily resurrection. God chose to create humanity as a unity of a physical body and a nonmaterial soul or spirit. Death is described as the “last enemy” in 1 Cor. 15:26 because it involves the unnatural separation of the physical body from the inner person of the soul/spirit (see Eccles. 12:7). The clear NT hope is that God will raise our physical bodies so that people will have resurrected bodies for all eternity.

The biblical concept of the bodily resurrection naturally leads to the future hope of new heavens surrounding a new earth. This hope of a new heavens and a new earth is mentioned in Isaiah’s prophecy where God “will create new heavens and a new earth” (Isa. 65:17), which “will endure before” him (66:22). However, it is in Rev. 21–22 that John gives us a detailed description of “a new heaven and a new earth” (21:1). It is no surprise that Peter says that “we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth” (2 Pet. 3:13).

One of the key questions here involves the relationship between this present world order and that of the age to come. Here there is both discontinuity and continuity. On the one hand, Peter tells us, “The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything done in it will be laid bare” (2 Pet. 3:10). At the same time, just as there was a definite continuity between Jesus’ earthly body and his resurrection body, and in the same way that there will be a continuity between our own present earthly bodies and our future resurrection bodies (which will be “sown in weakness . . . raised in power” [1 Cor. 15:43]), so too should we expect a continuity between the present heavens and earth and those to come. The Christian hope is a supernatural transformation whereby redeemed humanity’s resurrection is linked to the renewal of the whole creation (Rom. 8:18–25; 1 Cor. 15:20–28; Phil. 3:20–21).

John and the author of Hebrews call Jesus Christ the “only begotten,” as traditionally translated (John 1:14, 18; 3:16, 18; 1 John 4:9; Heb. 11:17 KJV). The epithet, which is a single word in Greek (monogenēs), signifies being the only one of its kind within a specific relationship, and therefore, as we find in more recent translations, it may also be translated “one and only Son” (NIV) or “only son” (NRSV). Although the Bible claims that God has many human sons and daughters, in various senses he has but one “only begotten” Son, who must also be distinguished from the angels, who are also identified as sons of God (Heb. 1:1–14; see also Gen. 6:2, 4).

The author of Hebrews and Josephus, a first-century Jewish historian, present Isaac as Abraham’s “only begotten son” (Heb. 11:17 KJV; Josephus, Ant. 1.222). But Abraham has two sons, the other one being Ishmael, as the biblical narrative and Paul make clear (Gen. 16:11–16; Gal. 4:22). The difference is that Isaac was the only begotten between Abraham and his wife, Sarah, and the one for whom God decided to perpetuate the covenant that he originally made with Abraham (Gen. 12:1–3; 15:1–6; 17:19). Isaac is presented by early Christians as a type of Christ, and for Paul, he is a type of all the children of the new covenant (Gal. 4:21–31). Nevertheless, through Jesus’ fulfillment of God’s covenant obligations, many, including the descendants of Ishmael, will be called “sons of God” (Gen. 17:20; Hos. 1:10, cited in Rom. 9:26; Matt. 5:9; Rom. 8:14, 19; Gal. 3:26; 4:6).

Without compromising the uniqueness of his position, the “one and only” Son is happy to share his status before God the Father through faith, by grace, which brings the believer into union with his body, the church (Gal. 2:19–20; Eph. 2:1–10; Heb. 2:10). The conviction that Christ cannot be compared to human children or angels, parts of God’s creation, contributed to the belief of comparing Christ only with God, the uncreated.

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

Old Testament

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New Testament

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Old Testament

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

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

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

New Testament

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

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

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

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

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

Old Testament

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

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

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

New Testament

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

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

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

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

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

Old Testament

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

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

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

New Testament

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Old Testament

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

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

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

New Testament

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

Components

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

Prepositions of Salvation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tenses of Salvation

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

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

Conclusion

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

There are few subjects more prominent in the Bible than sin; hardly a page can be found where sin is not mentioned, described, or portrayed. As the survey that follows demonstrates, sin is one of the driving forces of the entire Bible.

Sin in the Bible

Old Testament. Sin enters the biblical story in Gen. 3. Despite God’s commandment to the contrary (2:16–17), Eve ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil at the prompting of the serpent. When Adam joined Eve in eating the fruit, their rebellion was complete. They attempted to cover their guilt and shame, but the fig leaves were inadequate. God confronted them and was unimpressed with their attempts to shift the blame. Judgment fell heavily on the serpent, Eve, and Adam; even creation itself was affected (3:17–18).

In the midst of judgment, God made it clear in two specific ways that sin did not have the last word. First, God cryptically promised to put hostility between the offspring of the serpent and that of the woman (Gen. 3:15). Although the serpent would inflict a severe blow upon the offspring of the woman, the offspring of the woman would defeat the serpent. Second, God replaced the inadequate covering of the fig leaves with animal skins (3:21). The implication is that the death of the animal functioned as a substitute for Adam and Eve, covering their sin.

In Gen. 4–11 the disastrous effects of sin and death are on full display. Not even the cataclysmic judgment of the flood was able to eradicate the wickedness of the human heart (6:5; 8:21). Humans gathered in rebellion at the tower of Babel in an effort to make a name for themselves and thwart God’s intention for them to scatter across the earth (11:1–9).

In one sense, the rest of the OT hangs on this question: How will a holy God satisfy his wrath against human sin and restore his relationship with human beings without compromising his justice? The short answer is: through Abraham and his offspring (Gen. 12:1–3), who eventually multiplied into the nation of Israel. After God redeemed them from their slavery in Egypt (Exod. 1–15), he brought them to Sinai to make a covenant with them that was predicated on obedience (19:5–6). A central component of this covenant was the sacrificial system (e.g., Lev. 1–7), which God provided as a means of dealing with sin. In addition to the regular sacrifices made for sin throughout the year, God set apart one day a year to atone for Israel’s sins (Lev. 16). On this Day of Atonement the high priest took the blood of a goat into the holy of holies and sprinkled it on the mercy seat as a sin offering. Afterward he took a second goat and confessed “all the iniquities of the people of Israel, and all their transgressions, all their sins, putting them on the head of the goat, and sending it away into the wilderness. . . . The goat shall bear on itself all their iniquities to a barren region; and the goat shall be set free in the wilderness” (Lev. 16:21–22 NRSV). In order for the holy God to dwell with sinful people, extensive provisions had to be made to enable fellowship.

Despite these provisions, Israel repeatedly and persistently broke its covenant with God. Even at the highest points of prosperity under the reign of David and his son Solomon, sin plagued God’s people, including the kings themselves. David committed adultery and murder (2 Sam. 11:1–27). Solomon had hundreds of foreign wives and concubines, who turned his heart away from Yahweh to other gods (1 Kings 11:1–8). Once the nation split into two (Israel and Judah), sin and its consequences accelerated. Idolatry became rampant. The result was exile from the land (Israel in 722 BC, Judah in 586 BC). But God refused to give up on his people. He promised to raise up a servant who would suffer for the sins of his people as a guilt offering (Isa. 52:13–53:12).

After God’s people returned from exile, hopes remained high that the great prophetic promises, including the final remission of sins, were at hand. But disillusionment quickly set in as the returnees remained under foreign oppression, the rebuilt temple was but a shell of Solomon’s, and a Davidic king was nowhere to be found. Before long, God’s people were back to their old ways, turning away from him. Even the priests, who were charged with the administration of the sacrificial system dealing with the sin of the people, failed to properly carry out their duties (Mal. 1:6–2:9).

New Testament. During the next four hundred years of prophetic silence, the longing for God to finally put away the sins of his people grew. At last, when the conception and birth of Jesus were announced, it was revealed that he would “save his people from their sins” (Matt. 1:21). In the days before the public ministry of Jesus, John the Baptist prepared the way for him by “preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Luke 3:3). Whereas both Adam and Israel were disobedient sons of God, Jesus proved to be the obedient Son by his faithfulness to God in the face of temptation (Matt. 2:13–15; 4:1–11; 26:36–46; Luke 3:23–4:13; Rom. 5:12–21; Phil. 2:8; Heb. 5:8–10). He was also the Suffering Servant who gave his life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45; cf. Isa. 52:13–53:12). On the cross Jesus experienced the wrath of God that God’s people rightly deserved for their sin. With his justice fully satisfied, God was free to forgive and justify all who are identified with Christ by faith (Rom. 3:21–26). What neither the law nor the blood of bulls and goats could do, Jesus Christ did with his own blood (Rom. 8:3–4; Heb. 9:1–10:18).

After his resurrection and ascension, Jesus’ followers began proclaiming the “good news” (gospel) of what Jesus did and calling to people, “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins” (Acts 2:38). As people began to experience God’s forgiveness, they were so transformed that they forgave those who sinned against them (Matt. 6:12; 18:15–20; Col. 3:13). Although believers continue to struggle with sin in this life (Rom. 8:12–13; Gal. 5:16–25), sin is no longer master over them (Rom. 6:1–23). The Holy Spirit empowers them to fight sin as they long for the new heaven and earth, where there will be no sin, no death, and no curse (Rom. 8:12–30; Rev. 21–22).

As even this very brief survey of the biblical story line from Genesis to Revelation shows, sin is a fundamental aspect of the Bible’s plot. Sin generates the conflict that drives the biblical narrative; it is the fundamental “problem” that must be solved in order for God’s purposes in creation to be completed.

Definition and Terminology

Definition of sin. Although no definition can capture completely the breadth and depth of the concept of sin, it seems best to regard sin as a failure to conform to God’s law in thought, feeling, attitude, word, action, orientation, or nature. In this definition it must be remembered that God’s law is an expression of his perfect and holy character, so sin is not merely the violation of an impersonal law but rather is a personal offense against the Creator. Sin cannot be limited to actions. Desires (Exod. 20:17; Matt. 5:27–30), emotions (Gen. 4:6–7; Matt. 5:21–26), and even our fallen nature as human beings (Ps. 51:5; Eph. 2:1–3) can be sinful as well.

Terminology. The Bible uses dozens of terms to speak of sin. Neatly classifying them is not easy, as there is significant overlap in the meaning and use of the various terms. Nonetheless, many of the terms fit in one of the following four categories.

1. Personal. Sin is an act of rebellion against God as the creator and ruler of the universe. Rather than recognizing God’s self-revelation in nature and expressing gratitude, humankind foolishly worships the creation rather than the Creator (Rom. 1:19–23). The abundant love, grace, and mercy that God shows to humans make their rebellion all the more stunning (Isa. 1:2–31). Another way of expressing the personal nature of sin is ungodliness or impiety, which refers to lack of devotion to God (Ps. 35:16; Isa. 9:17; 1 Pet. 4:18).

2. Legal. A variety of words portray sin in terms drawn from the lawcourts. Words such as “transgression” and “trespass” picture sin as the violation of a specific command of God or the crossing of a boundary that God has established (Num. 14:41–42; Rom. 4:7, 15). When individuals do things that are contrary to God’s law, they are deemed unrighteous or unjust (Isa. 10:1; Matt. 5:45; Rom. 3:5). Breaking the covenant with God is described as violating his statutes and disobeying his laws (Isa. 24:5). The result is guilt, an objective legal status that is present whenever God’s law is violated regardless of whether the individual subjectively feels guilt.

3. Moral. In the most basic sense, sin is evil, the opposite of what is good. Therefore, God’s people are to hate evil and love what is good (Amos 5:14–15; Rom. 12:9). Similarly, Scripture contrasts the upright and the wicked (Prov. 11:11; 12:6; 14:11). One could also include here the term “iniquity,” which is used to speak of perversity or crookedness (Pss. 51:2; 78:38; Isa. 59:2). Frequent mention is also made of sexual immorality as an especially grievous departure from God’s ways (Num. 25:1; Rom. 1:26–27; 1 Cor. 5:1–11).

4. Cultic. In order for a person to approach a holy God, that individual had to be in a state of purity before him. While a person could become impure without necessarily sinning (e.g., a menstruating woman was impure but not sinful), in some cases the term “impurity” clearly refers to a sinful state (Lev. 20:21; Isa. 1:25; Ezek. 24:13). The same is true of the term “unclean.” Although it is frequently used in Leviticus to speak of ritual purity, in other places it clearly refers to sinful actions or states (Ps. 51:7; Prov. 20:9; Isa. 6:5; 64:6).

Metaphors

In addition to specific terms used for “sin,” the Bible uses several metaphors or images to describe it. The following four are among the more prominent.

Missing the mark. In both Hebrew and Greek, two of the most common words for “sin” have the sense of missing the mark. But this does not mean that sin is reduced to a mistake or an oversight. The point is not that a person simply misses the mark of what God requires; instead, it is that he or she is aiming for the wrong target altogether (Exod. 34:9; Deut. 9:18). Regardless of whether missing the mark is intentional or not, the individual is still responsible (Lev. 4:2–31; Num. 15:30).

Departing from the way. Sin as departing from God’s way is especially prominent in the wisdom literature. Contrasts are drawn between the way of the righteous and the way of the wicked (Ps. 1:1, 6; Prov. 4:11–19). Wisdom is pictured as a woman who summons people to walk in her ways, but fools ignore her and depart from her ways (Prov. 9:1–18). Those who do not walk in God’s ways are eventually destroyed by their own wickedness (Prov. 11:5; 12:26; 13:15).

Adultery. Since God’s relationship with his people is described as a marriage (Isa. 62:4–5; Ezek. 16:8–14; Eph. 5:25–32), it is not surprising that the Bible describes their unfaithfulness as adultery. The prophet Hosea’s marriage to an adulterous woman vividly portrays Israel’s unfaithfulness to Yahweh (Hos. 1–3). When the Israelites chase after other gods, Yahweh accuses them of spiritual adultery in extremely graphic terms (Ezek. 16:15–52). When Christians join themselves to a prostitute or participate in idolatry, they too are engaged in spiritual adultery (1 Cor. 6:12–20; 10:1–22).

Slavery. Sin is portrayed as a power that enslaves. The prophets make it clear that Israel’s bondage to foreign powers is in fact a picture of its far greater enslavement to sin (Isa. 42:8; 43:4–7; 49:1–12). Paul makes a similar point when he refers to those who do not know Christ as slaves to sin, unable to do anything that pleases God (Rom. 6:1–23; 8:5–8). Sin is a cosmic power that is capable of using even the law to entrap people in its snare (Rom. 7:7–25).

Scope and Consequences

Sin does not travel alone; it brings a large collection of baggage along with it. Here we briefly examine its scope and consequences.

Scope. The stain of sin extends to every part of the created order. As a result of Adam’s sin, the ground was cursed to resist human efforts to cultivate it, producing thorns and thistles (Gen. 3:17–18). The promised land is described as groaning under the weight of Israel’s sin and in need of Sabbath rest (2 Chron. 36:21; Jer. 12:4); Paul applies the same language to all creation as well (Rom. 8:19–22).

Sin affects every aspect of the individual: mind, heart, will, emotions, motives, actions, and nature (Gen. 6:5; 8:21; Jer. 17:9; Rom. 3:9–18). Sometimes this reality is referred to as “total depravity.” This phrase means not that people are as sinful as they could be but rather that every aspect of their lives is tainted by sin. As a descendant of Adam, every person enters the world as a sinner who then sins (Rom. 5:12–21). Sin also pollutes societal structures, corrupting culture, governments, nations, and economic markets, to name but a few.

Consequences. Since the two greatest commandments are to love God and to love one’s neighbor as oneself (Matt. 22:34–40), it makes sense that sin has consequences on both the vertical and the horizontal level. Vertically, sin results in both physical and spiritual death (Gen. 2:16–17; Rom. 5:12–14). It renders humanity guilty in God’s court of law, turns us into God’s enemies, and subjects us to God’s righteous wrath (Rom. 1:18; 3:19–20; 5:6–11). On the horizontal level, sin causes conflict between individuals and harms relationships of every kind. It breeds mistrust, jealousy, and selfishness that infect even the closest relationships.

Conclusion

No subject is more unpleasant than sin. But a proper understanding of sin is essential for understanding the gospel of Jesus Christ. As the Puritan Thomas Watson put it, “Until sin be bitter, Christ will not be sweet.”

The present abode of God and the final dwelling place of the righteous. The ancient Jews distinguished three different heavens. The first heaven was the atmospheric heavens of the clouds and where the birds fly (Gen. 1:20). The second heaven was the celestial heavens of the sun, the moon, and the stars. The third heaven was the present home of God and the angels. Paul builds on this understanding of a third heaven in 2 Cor. 12:2–4, where he describes himself as a man who “was caught up to the third heaven” or “paradise,” where he “heard inexpressible things.” This idea of multiple heavens also shows itself in how the Jews normally spoke of “heavens” in the plural (Gen. 1:1), while most other ancient cultures spoke of “heaven” in the singular.

The Abode of God

One of the challenges in understanding “heaven” as the present dwelling place of God involves God’s omnipresence. In one sense, God is present everywhere. David asks in Ps. 139:7, “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?” He answers that regardless of whether he goes as high up as anyone can go (“up to the heavens”), as low down as anyone can go (“in the depths), as far east as anyone can go (“the wings of the dawn”), or as far west as anyone can go (“the far side of the sea”), God is still there (Ps. 139:8–9).

Although God is present everywhere, God is also present in a special way in “heaven.” During Jesus’ earthly ministry, the Father is sometimes described as speaking in “a voice from heaven” (Matt. 3:17). Similarly, Jesus instructs us to address our prayers to “Our Father in heaven” (6:9). Even the specific request in the Lord’s Prayer that “your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (6:10) reminds us that heaven is a place already under God’s full jurisdiction, where his will is presently being done completely and perfectly. Jesus also warns of the dangers of despising “one of these little ones,” because “their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven” (18:10). Jesus “came down from heaven” (John 6:51) for his earthly ministry, and after his death and resurrection, he ascended back “into heaven,” from where he “will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven” (Acts 1:11).

At times, “heaven” becomes virtually a synonym for God himself. In the parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15, the son confesses to his father, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you” (v. 21). This son’s sin against “heaven” has nothing to do with environmental issues such as air pollution, and everything to do with his relationship with God. Note also Matthew’s expression “the kingdom of heaven” versus “the kingdom of God” used elsewhere.

The Final Dwelling Place for Believers

Given this strong connection between heaven and God’s presence, there is a natural connection in Scripture between heaven and the ultimate hope of believers. Believers are promised a reward in heaven (“Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven” [Matt. 5:12]), and even now believers can “store up for [themselves] treasures in heaven” (6:20). Even in this present life, “our citizenship is in heaven” (Phil. 3:20), and our hope at death is to “depart and be with Christ, which is better by far” (1:23). Since Christ is currently in heaven, deceased believers are already present with Christ in heaven awaiting his return, when “God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him” (1 Thess. 4:14).

However, this picture of heaven is more complicated. It is true that heaven is sometimes used in Scripture to refer to the present abode of all departed believers who have left this present life and entered the intermediate state between death and the bodily resurrection (2 Cor. 5:4). It is this hope in a bodily resurrection that sets Christianity apart from other religions. Ultimately, the Christian hope is not that people will receive new physical bodies and float around some ethereal “heaven” like astronauts in outer space for all eternity. Instead, God has created human beings with physical bodies to inhabit a physical world, and our future hope is one of new resurrection bodies inhabiting new heavens and a new earth (Isa. 65:17; 66:22; 2 Pet. 3:13). Just as there will be a certain continuity between the bodies of believers in this present life and their new resurrection bodies (we will know one another), there will also be a certain continuity between this present earth and the new earth to come. Yet, at the same time, everything will also be changed and made new and perfect, as God has designed it to be (Rom. 8:18–21).

The clearest description of this new reality is found in Rev. 21–22, where John describes how he “saw ‘a new heaven and a new earth,’ for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away” (21:1). Here is “the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband” (21:2), when “God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (21:3–4). Even better than all the descriptions of such things as streets of “gold, as pure as transparent glass” (21:21) is that God himself will come and dwell in the midst of his people. As Paul has phrased it, “Now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face” (1 Cor. 13:12). The day will come when we will see God as he is, in all his glory (1 John 3:2).

Two other ideas complete our picture of life in these new heavens and new earth. Heaven will be a place of continued activity and service. Notice Jesus’ blessing in Matt. 25:21: “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things.” The other principle is that there will be different degrees of reward. Although our ultimate reward is simply being with God himself, Paul also reminds us that if what believers do with their lives “survives, the builder will receive a reward,” and if what they do “is burned up, the builder will suffer loss” (1 Cor. 3:14–15 NRSV). Our choices make a difference for time and eternity (cf. Rev. 14:13). See also Heavens, New.

Because Scripture sees all things as providentially arranged and sustained by God’s sovereign power at all times (Heb. 1:3), miracles are not aberrations in an otherwise closed and mechanical universe. Nor are miracles raw demonstrations of divinity designed to overcome prejudice or unbelief and to convince people of the existence of God (Mark 8:11–12). Still less are they clever conjuring tricks involving some kind of deception that can be otherwise explained on a purely scientific basis. Rather, God in his infinite wisdom sometimes does unusual and extraordinary things to call attention to himself and his activity. Miracles are divinely ordained acts of God that dramatically alert us to the presence of his glory and power and advance his saving purposes in redemptive history.

Terminology

The biblical writers describe miracles with various terms, such as “signs,” “wonders,” and “miracles” (or “powers”), which can carry various connotations. As the word “sign” suggests, divine miracles are significant and should cause us to think more deeply about God in a way that goes beyond mere amazement or curiosity (Exod. 4:30–31; John 2:11). Not all of God’s signs are miraculous. Some are given as part of his ordering of the natural world (Gen. 1:14) or as an encouragement to faith that God will do as he has said (e.g., the rainbow in Gen. 9:8–17; the blood of the Passover lamb in Exod. 12:13). (See also Sign.)

Often coupled with signs are “wonders” (Jer. 32:21; John 4:48; 2 Cor. 12:12). If the depiction of miracles as “signs” indicates an appeal to the intellect, that of “wonders” points to the emotions. Miracles evoke astonishment and awe at the one who did them.

The NT word “miracle” carries the meaning of power and therefore points to the supernatural source of these events (Luke 10:13; Acts 8:13).

Miracles in the Bible

Old Testament. In the OT, miracles are not evenly distributed but rather are found in greater number during times of great redemptive significance, such as the exodus and the conquest of Canaan. Miracles were performed also during periods of apostasy, such as in the days of the ninth-century prophets Elijah and Elisha. Common to both of these eras is the powerful demonstration of the superiority of God over pagan deities (Exod. 7–12; 1 Kings 18:20–40).

New Testament. In the NT, miracles often are acts of compassion, but more significantly they attest the exalted status of Jesus of Nazareth (Acts 2:22) and the saving power of his word (Heb. 2:3–4). In the Synoptic Gospels, they reveal the coming of God’s kingdom and the conquest of Satan’s dominion (Matt. 8:16–17; 12:22–30; Mark 3:27). They point to the person of Jesus as the promised Messiah of OT Scripture (Matt. 4:23; 11:4–6). John shows a preference for the word “signs,” and his Gospel is structured around them (John 20:30–31). According to John, the signs that Jesus performed were such that only the one who stood in a unique relationship to the Father as the Son of God could do them.

Miracles and faith. Just as entrenched skepticism is injurious to faith, so too is naive credulity, for although signs and wonders witness to God, false prophets also perform them “to deceive, if possible, even the elect” (Matt. 24:24). Christians are to exercise discernment and not be led astray by such impostors (Matt. 7:15–20).

The relationship between miracles and faith is not as straightforward as sometimes supposed. Miracles do not necessarily produce faith, nor does faith necessarily produce miracles. Miracles were intended to bring about the faith that leads to eternal life (John 20:31), but not all who witnessed them believed (John 10:32). Additionally, Jesus regarded a faith that rested only on the miracle itself as precarious (Mark 8:11–13; John 2:23–25; 4:48), though better than no faith at all (John 10:38). Faith that saves must ultimately find its grounding in the person of Jesus as the Son of God.

It is also clear that although Jesus always encouraged faith in those who came to him for help (Mark 9:23), and that he deliberately limited his miraculous powers in the presence of unbelief (Mark 6:5), many of his miracles were performed on those who did not or could not exercise faith (Matt. 12:22; Mark 1:23–28; 5:1–20; Luke 14:1–4).

The fact that Jesus performed miracles was never an issue; rather, his opponents disputed the source of his power (Mark 3:22). Arguments about his identity were to be settled by appeal not to miracles but to the word of God (Matt. 22:41–46).

The function of miracles. Miracle accounts function in a symbolic and prophetic manner. Hence, the cursing of the fig tree was prophetic of the coming judgment (Mark 11:12–21). The unusual two-stage healing of the blind man of Bethsaida symbolized Peter’s incomplete understanding of Jesus’ messiahship (Mark 8:22–33).

The miraculous element of Jesus’ ministry carries an eschatological significance, pointing to the order of things in the age to come. For example, the nature miracles (Mark 4:35–41) look forward to the redemption of creation itself, which is presently subject to frustration and decay (Rom. 8:20–21); the healing miracles point to a day when disease and deformity will be abolished (Rev. 21:4); and miracles in which the dead are raised to life anticipate a time when death itself will be no more (Rev. 20:14; 21:4). From this perspective, the miracles are a gracious foretaste of a far more glorious future.

The Bible has much to say about works, and an understanding of the topic is important because works play a role in most religions. In the most generic sense, “works” refers to the products or activities of human moral agents in the context of religious discussion. God’s works are frequently mentioned in Scripture, and they are always good. His works include creation (Gen. 2:2–3; Isa. 40:28; 42:5), sustenance of the earth (Ps. 104; Heb. 1:3), and redemption (Exod. 6:6; Ps. 111:9; Rom. 8:23). Human works, therefore, should be in alignment with God’s works, though obviously of a different sort. Works in the Bible usually reflect a moral polarity: good or evil, righteous or unrighteous, just or unjust. The context of the passage often determines the moral character of the works (e.g., Isa. 3:10–11; 2 Cor. 11:15).

Important questions follow from the existence of works and their moral quality. Do good works merit God’s favor or please him? Can good works save at the time of God’s judgment? When people asked Jesus, “What must we do to do the works God requires?” he answered, “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent” (John 6:28–29). Without faith it is impossible to please God (Heb. 11:6). The people from the OT commended in Heb. 11 did their works in the precondition of faith. Explicitly in the NT and often implicitly in the OT, faith is the condition for truly good works. God elects out of his mercy, not out of human works (Rom. 9:12, 16; Titus 3:5; cf. Rom. 11:2). Works not done in faith, even if considered “good” by human standards, are not commendable to God, since all humankind is under sin (Rom. 3:9) and no person is righteous or does good (Rom. 3:10–18; cf. Isa. 64:6). Works cannot save; salvation is a gift to be received by faith (Eph. 2:8–9; 2 Tim. 1:9; cf. Rom. 4:2–6). Even works of the Mosaic law are not salvific (Rom. 3:20, 27–28; Gal. 2:16; 3:2; 5:4). Good works follow from faith (2 Cor. 9:8; Eph. 2:10; 1 Thess. 1:3; James 2:18, 22; cf. Acts 26:20). The works of those who have faith will be judged, but this judgment appears to be related to rewards, not salvation (Matt. 16:27; Rom. 2:6; 2 Cor. 5:10; cf. Rom. 14:10; 1 Cor. 3:13–15).