The Hebrew name for Babylon. In standard English translations this name is consistently translated as “Babel” only in Gen. 11:9 and sometimes in 10:10 (NRSV, NET). Although all its other occurrences are translated as “Babylon,” there is no distinction in the Hebrew. In the Babylonian language (Akkadian) the name means “Gate of God”; in Gen. 11:9 the Hebrew author connects the name “Babel” (babel  ) to the similar-sounding Hebrew word for “confused” (balal  ). This connection is best understood as a wordplay rather than an actual etymology.

Located on the Euphrates River about fifty-five miles south of modern Baghdad, the city was a major political and economic power throughout Mesopotamian history. Most significantly in Israel’s history, it was the capital of the Neo-Babylonian Empire, which arose in the seventh century BC and brought Judah into exile.

According to Genesis, this city was founded by Nimrod (10:10) and was the site of the division of languages (11:1–9). The tower described in 11:1–9 was most likely a ziggurat, a Mesopotamian temple structure in the shape of a staircase. The intent to build a tower “that reaches to the heavens” (11:4) fits well with the Babylonian view that ziggurats joined heaven and earth. See also Tower of Babel.

A tarlike substance used as mortar for setting bricks, as in Gen. 11:3 (NIV: “tar”) with the building of a ziggurat. It was also used, along with pitch, as a waterproofing agent for Noah’s ark (Gen. 6:14) and for the reed basket in which Moses was placed as an infant (Exod. 2:3).

Bricks are first mentioned in the Bible at Gen. 11:3 (the tower of Babel), which says that “they used brick instead of stone,” a note that rings true to geographical differences in the use of bricks. In Mesopotamia, however, fire-hardened bricks could be used for monumental structures; thousands of these have survived, some even being taken for use in modern buildings. But in Canaan, where stone is common, large ashlar stone was preferred to brick for monumental buildings (a contrast evident in Isa. 9:10), and unhewn stone was common in other structures (e.g., Lev. 14:40–42). Brick was commonly used in superstructures atop stone foundations, including defensive structures, such as casemate walls (cf. Nah. 3:14, but note that Nineveh is in view). Iron Age Ashdod features an example of such, and Neolithic Jericho features brick walls, though these may have been for flood retention. Bricks were made of mud or clay, often mixed with straw (Exod. 5:7), and could be dried in the sun for rudimentary purposes. Making bricks was hard labor, fitting for slaves (Exod. 1:14; 2 Sam. 12:31). Brick altars, like those of hewn stone, were not permitted in the worship of God (Exod. 20:24–25; Isa. 65:3).

The quality of being shared by all, such as a “common speech” (Gen. 11:1) or the human condition (Ps. 73:5; Eccles. 9:2), but also anything outside the sphere of the holy. God requires Israel to distinguish common from holy (Lev. 10:10; Ezek. 22:26; 42:20). By the first century, many Jews (e.g., the Pharisees) attempted to extend this sphere, which radiated from the temple, to their homes. They only ate tithed produce, used clean vessels, and shared their table with the ritually clean (Matt. 23:23; Mark 7:3–4; John 2:6; 4:9; Gal. 2:11–21; see m. Demai 1:2–3). Like the prophets (e.g., Isa. 1:16), Jesus emphasizes the quality of the heart (Matt. 5:8; Mark 7:14–23) and brings the common into the sphere of the holy by sharing the indwelling Holy Spirit with them (Mark 5:25–34). This practice anticipates the inclusion of non-Jews in the early church (Acts 10:9–16; 11:1–18; Gal. 3:1–9).

The Hebrew name for Babylon. In standard English translations this name is consistently translated as “Babel” only in Gen. 11:9 and sometimes in 10:10 (NRSV, NET). Although all its other occurrences are translated as “Babylon,” there is no distinction in the Hebrew. In the Babylonian language (Akkadian) the name means “Gate of God”; in Gen. 11:9 the Hebrew author connects the name “Babel” (babel  ) to the similar-sounding Hebrew word for “confused” (balal  ). This connection is best understood as a wordplay rather than an actual etymology.

Located on the Euphrates River about fifty-five miles south of modern Baghdad, the city was a major political and economic power throughout Mesopotamian history. Most significantly in Israel’s history, it was the capital of the Neo-Babylonian Empire, which arose in the seventh century BC and brought Judah into exile.

According to Genesis, this city was founded by Nimrod (10:10) and was the site of the division of languages (11:1–9). The tower described in 11:1–9 was most likely a ziggurat, a Mesopotamian temple structure in the shape of a staircase. The intent to build a tower “that reaches to the heavens” (11:4) fits well with the Babylonian view that ziggurats joined heaven and earth. See also Tower of Babel.

Geography

Whereas the principal direction in the modern world is north, in the ancient world different cultures used a variety of orientations as they sought to describe their relationship to their geographical environment. In Israel the primary direction was determined by the sunrise: east. This is reflected in Hebrew, where the main word used to refer to east as a direction was qedem, which could also be used to simply refer to that which was directly ahead or in front of the speaker (e.g., Ps. 139:5). Elsewhere, east is designated by the terms mizrakh (“rising” [Josh. 11:3]) or mizrakh hashamesh (“rising of the sun” [Num. 21:11]), both of which derive from the direction of sunrise. By way of contrast, in Egypt the primary direction was south, in alignment with the source of the Nile River.

The ancient world employed the same notion of four cardinal directions, which persists to the present, and the terminology related to these was influenced by the choice of primary direction. Thus, in Israel north is often designated by “left”; south could be designated by “right,” and west by “behind.” In addition, directions could be specified by reference to geographical features found in those directions. North could be specified by the word tsapon, which was derived from the name of a northern Syrian mountain (Zaphon); south by negeb, a name for the region south of Israel (Negev); and west by yam (“sea”), since the Mediterranean Sea lay to the west.

Symbolism

Aside from their purely geographical significance, the directions also came to bear figurative significance. Some caution is warranted in assigning symbolic significance to language, for there is danger of reading invalid meanings into texts. Furthermore, given the ambiguity inherent in the use of terms to refer to directions, which also have alternate significances, there is danger of assigning a symbolic meaning to the direction that actually resides in the alternate. So, for example, while yam (“sea”) carries significant symbolic overtones in the Bible, this association does not appear to have been extended to encompass the term when used to designate a westerly direction.

East and west. Nonetheless, there is, for example, probably some significance in the expulsion from Eden and progressive movement eastward to the tower of Babel through Gen. 1–11, followed by a return to the promised land, which was approached by reversing the easterly migration and returning toward Eden. Eden itself was said to lie “in the east” (Heb. miqqedem; Gen. 2:8), although the same Hebrew expression in Pss. 74:12; 77:5, 11; 78:2; 143:5 means “in ancient times,” and there is perhaps a deliberate ambiguity in the use of the expression in Gen. 2:8. In Isa. 2:6 the east is the source of influences on the people that lead them astray. Following the exile, Ezekiel sees the glory of God returning to the temple from the east (Ezek. 43:1–2). Thus, when used symbolically, “east” is often viewed negatively or else may be used to mark a connection with distant antiquity (Gen. 2:8; Job 1:3). Any symbolic significance assigned to west appears primarily to be associated with it being the antithesis of east. The distance between east and west was used poetically to express vast distance (Ps. 103:12).

North and south. North is significant for two primary reasons. First, it is the direction from which invading armies most often descended upon Israel (Jer. 1:13) as well as from which Babylon’s destruction is said to come (Jer. 50:3). In light of this, Ezekiel’s vision of God approaching from the north strikes an ominous tone of impending judgment (Ezek. 1:1–4). Second, in Canaanite mythology the abode of the gods, and specifically Baal, lay to the north, on Mount Zaphon. Thus, the king of Babylon’s plans in Isa. 14:13 amount to a claim to establish himself as one of the gods. In contrast to this, Ps. 48:2 pre-sents Mount Zion as supplanting Mount Zaphon and thus implicitly presents Israel’s one God as supplanting the Canaanite pantheon.

As with west, there is little symbolic significance associated with the direction south in the Bible, aside from its use in combination with other directions.

The four directions. The four directions (or sometimes just pairs of directions) are used together to describe both the scattering of the Israelites as well as their being gathered by God back to the promised land (Ps. 107:3; Isa. 43:5–6; Luke 13:29). They are also used together to express the extent of the promised land (Gen. 13:14) or else to describe something that is all-encompassing (1 Chron. 9:24).

(1) A hollowed-out receptacle resembling a bowl, usually made of stone or possibly clay. The mortar, along with a pestle, was used for grinding, crushing, or mixing substances in food preparation. The food was placed in the mortar and ground with the pestle. This is the tool that the Israelites used in the desert to process the manna (Num. 11:8). The mortar was a common household item required to prepare food for consumption, and its function was so well known that it was employed in biblical metaphors (Prov. 27:22). (2) A binding agent used in mud-brick construction (Exod. 1:14; Nah. 3:14). Raw mud was the most common mortar used in this construction, but tar is also attested (Gen. 11:3). See also Pestle.

The Plain of Shinar was the site of the tower of Babel. According to Genesis, people settled here after they moved “eastward” (Gen. 11:2 [or perhaps “from the east” or “in the east”]). The identification of Shinar as Babylonia (so the NIV footnote at 11:2) makes it probable that this phrase is better rendered “eastward” (NIV) or “to the east” (NLT). After the immigrants settled, they began to build a tower that would help them not “be scattered over the face of the whole earth” (11:4). When God confused their language, they were indeed scattered (11:9).

The Plain of Shinar, then, was the epicenter of postdiluvian civilization, the point from which the various people groups migrated outward with their distinct languages. This picture of the dispersion of civilization from southern Mesopotamia is similar to secular models that propose that recorded history started with the Sumerian people and language.

A tarlike substance used as mortar for setting bricks, as in Gen. 11:3 (NIV: “tar”) with the building of a ziggurat. It was also used, along with pitch, as a waterproofing agent for Noah’s ark (Gen. 6:14) and for the reed basket in which Moses was placed as an infant (Exod. 2:3).

A tower whose construction was begun in a town on the plain of Shinar (Gen. 11:1–9), although it is never actually called the “tower of Babel” in the Bible. The name “Babel” (Gen. 11:9) is likely a pun involving the Akkadian word for “gate of god” and the Hebrew word for “confuse.” Some scholars believe that “Babel” alludes to the city of Babylon. Most ancient structures described as towers would have been ziggurats, which are terraced pyramids with steps. Ziggurats were designed to be places where the gods could access land, much like a staircase. Interestingly, the builders’ plan in Gen. 11:1–9 actually worked, since God did come down into the city; however, they did not anticipate the consequences of their actions. Some commentators have suggested that this story is an etiology explaining the beginning of languages.

Architecture is the technology and the art of design and construction. The technology of architecture includes an understanding of mathematical and engineering principles; the art of architecture focuses attention on interest and beauty in design. The creative imagination of the architect is constantly considering how to artfully manage form and function in the design and construction process.

Architecture and the Bible

The term “architecture” does not occur in most English translations of the Bible. There is, however, evidence of and reference to the architectural activity of God’s people. In addition, Israel and the church were contextualized in significant architectural periods (Egyptian, Assyrian, Greek, and Roman), so the major empires of the biblical period often influenced the design and construction of cities, temples, and structures referenced in the biblical text. Architecture offers biblical studies a way to better understand the historical intentions of the Bible. By means of architectural investigation, the history and the heritage of past civilizations are illuminated. As a result, our reading of the biblical text is enhanced.

When we investigate the biblical text with attention to the technology and art of architecture, two perspectives emerge. First, architecture draws our attention to the background of the biblical text. In certain biblical texts we learn about the design and the construction that took place in Egypt, Assyria, and Palestine during major biblical events. For example, the patriarchal and Mosaic periods occurred during times of expansion and development in the Eighteenth to Twentieth Dynasties of Egypt (i.e., New Kingdom, sixteenth to eleventh centuries BC). For these periods, we gain knowledge about capital relocations along with temple and pyramid constructions. We learn that during the conquest, Israel took over existing Canaanite cities in keeping with the Mosaic policies. The architecture of Palestine enables us to better understand the form and function of these infrastructures.

Second, architecture draws our attention to the theological implications of the form and function of structures designed by God. In keeping with the scope of architecture, we are forced to understand that what God designed for altars, the ark, the tabernacle, and the temples of the past and the future included more than just the functional requirements of a nation’s religious system. The interpreter of the biblical text must consider how the design of these structures elicits response and communicates meaning. These structures are also windows on the social, political, and economic aspects of the Israelite nation.

Old Testament

Cities and fortifications. The biblical rec­ord makes reference to architectural structures, materials, and furnishings. Cities are referenced frequently throughout the OT canon. The city is obviously the context for architectural expression. The cities of the Bible are not described in extensive detail. We learn that Cain was a city builder who named his work after his son Enoch. The architectural feature of cities mentioned most often is the city gates (Gen. 19:1; 23:10, 18; Deut. 17:5; Josh. 2:5; 7:5; 20:4; Judg. 5:8). This was an important place for city life and activity (Gen. 23:1; Prov. 31:31). There was also sinister activity at city gates. Abner, for example, was killed in the city gate (2 Sam. 3:22–30). In addition, executions for covenant violations were carried out at the city gate (Deut. 17:5). There was more than one city gate, as we learn from the postexilic construction activity of Ezra and Nehemiah.

Within the city there was a strong tower. The people of Babel used thoroughly baked bricks instead of stone and tar for mortar in order to build the city and the tower that was designed to reach to the heavens (Gen. 11:3–4). A city tower functioned as a place of refuge for the people within the city limits (Judg. 9:49–51).

Cities were protected by a wall system (Lev. 25:29) that also provided space for housing (Josh. 2:15). The conquest of Jericho recounts the familiar defeat of that city by the very unconventional destruction of its walls (Josh. 6:20). A city square is another feature of the city architecture (Judg. 19:15–17) that served the public needs of the community.

The biblical descriptions of Jerusalem offer a measure of insight into its architecture. During the rebuilding process in the postexilic period, Nehemiah comments on both the construction and the building materials (Neh. 2:8; 13:31; cf. Ezra 6:4) and the spacious nature of the city (Neh. 7:4). From another perspective, the psalmist comments, “Jerusalem is built like a city that is closely compacted together” (Ps. 122:3).

Beyond these textual details we learn through the writings of the prophets that cities are the subject of God’s wrath for covenant violation (Jer. 6:6; Hos. 11:6; Mic. 5:11). Despite this, the nation of Israel is not left without the hope of restoration. The prophets also anticipated the return of the people along with the restoration of the city infrastructure (Amos 9:14; Mal. 1:4).

The temple and sacred structures. The other architectural features referenced by the writers of Scripture include altars, the tabernacle, the tent of meeting, and the temple. The tent and the tabernacle were also outfitted with unique furniture items described in detail and expertly crafted. The construction projects of Solomon are detailed in 1 Kings 5–7. Solomon, like David, pursued his architectural ambitions. The book of Ezekiel gives extensive architectural detail for the construction of a future temple in which God will reign and rule (Ezek. 40–48).

The temple and royal residences were made of stone with cedar roofing. The chamber buildings that surrounded the temple were three stories high. The interior walls and ceilings were lined with cedar to cover all the stone (1 Kings 6:1–10). In all the construction details for the temple, the text does not elaborate on architectural style. Perhaps the builders were influenced to some degree by the styles of the major periods.

What are the theological implications related to the form and function of the sacred structures in the biblical material? The first is that God is the ultimate designer of Israel’s architecture. God’s signature work certainly is not the tabernacle or the Solomonic temple, but rather the created realm. The beauty and the complexities of the created world continue to draw attention to God’s beauty and intelligence. As the psalmist declares, the creation, which God designed, is a constant source of praise (Ps. 19).

God’s skill and artistic beauty as a master architect are reflected also in the revelation of his plans for the sacred structures of Israel to the nation’s artisans. The skill that the artisans manifested in the construction process was also a gift from God (Exod. 35:35; 2 Chron. 2:14).

The structures designed by God for construction were primarily for him. This is understandable because the patriarchal and Mosaic periods included long desert pilgrimages and the related tent dwelling. References to homes and houses in the book of Leviticus are not about design and construction but about function. The domestic home must be free of mildew (Lev. 14:34–41) and thus clean according to the standards of the law. The construction of Davidic and Solomonic homes is given attention in Scripture (2 Sam. 5:11; 7:1; 1 Kings 7:1–12).

The tabernacle and the temple were divine residences (Exod. 30:6; 40:34; 2 Sam. 7:5; 1 Kings 8:11). For this reason, the design and function of each structure reflected the glorious worth of God and reminded the nation of its own uncleanness. Beyond the structures of temple and tabernacle, the city of Jerusalem was privileged to be the resting place of the “Name” (i.e., presence) of the Lord (2 Chron. 6:5–6) and to have David as the chosen ruler (2 Chron. 6:34).

The history of Israel reveals that the sustainability of these sacred structures was influenced by physical and spiritual factors. God occupied the structures or met with Israel at these sacred places as long as Israel conformed to the terms of the Mosaic covenant (1 Sam. 4:21; 1 Kings 9:6–9). During the monarchy, kings who departed from Torah would strip the temple to pay tribute to foreign overlords (2 Kings 24:13) or would modify the function of the structure to accommodate the worship of foreign gods (see 2 Kings 23). Although there were periodic times of rebuilding the sacred structures, sustainability was short lived. The ideology of the sacred structures anticipates a future time when their original function will be replaced with the opportunity to live in God’s presence forever.

New Testament

The NT refers only rarely to architects or architecture. Hebrews 11:10 speaks of God as the “architect [technitēs] and builder” of the heavenly Jerusalem. Paul refers to the church as the temple of God. Jesus Christ is the foundation, and Christian leaders are building upon that foundation with either gold, silver, and costly stones or wood, hay, and straw (1 Cor. 3:10–17; cf. 6:19; 2 Cor. 6:16).

In terms of physical buildings, the church of the NT was a house church. During the time of Christ the significant architectural structures were the temple and synagogues. Herod the Great was the major builder of the time, whose impressive temple dominated the landscape of the Jerusalem area. Although the synagogue was a central structure during the life of Christ and the early church, function is emphasized over form in the biblical material. The synagogue was a place for prayer, Scripture study, and the administration of justice (Luke 4:16–30; Acts 13:15; 14:1).

The focus of the NT is also on the church’s function instead of its architectural form. The church, however, prospered and grew in the context of a significant Hellenistic architectural period (300 BC to AD 300). In this period the Seleucids were responsible for establishing large Greek cities across western and central Asia. The primary construction material continued to be the mud-brick, which resulted in rapidly decaying buildings. Although cities continued to be laid out in a grid format, a more dynamic, hilly format was being introduced. The homes in these cities often were built with courtyards like ones in Mesopotamia and Egypt. The temples of the Hellenistic period were designed with landscaping and terracing, along with porticoed enclosures and stairways.

The book of Revelation closes the canon with extensive detail about the new city of Jerusalem, which God will design and build (Rev. 21) and which will function to serve his sovereign purposes as creator and redeemer.

(1) The son of Shem and grandson of Noah, born two years after the flood (Gen. 10:22; 11:11–13; cf. 1 Chron. 1:17–18, 24). Arphaxad fathered Shelah at age thirty-five, although the genealogy in Luke 3:36, following the LXX, inserts Cainan between Arphaxad and Shelah. Arphaxad had other sons and daughters and lived to be 438 years old. Shem’s genealogy in Gen. 11 traces Abram’s ancestry through Arphaxad’s line. (2) A ruler of the Medes in Ecbatana (modern Hamadan in Iran), whom Nebuchadnezzar defeated (Jdt. 1:1, 5, 13, 15).

(1) The son of Shem and grandson of Noah, born two years after the flood (Gen. 10:22; 11:11–13; cf. 1 Chron. 1:17–18, 24). Arphaxad fathered Shelah at age thirty-five, although the genealogy in Luke 3:36, following the LXX, inserts Cainan between Arphaxad and Shelah. Arphaxad had other sons and daughters and lived to be 438 years old. Shem’s genealogy in Gen. 11 traces Abram’s ancestry through Arphaxad’s line. (2) A ruler of the Medes in Ecbatana (modern Hamadan in Iran), whom Nebuchadnezzar defeated (Jdt. 1:1, 5, 13, 15).

Babylon was the capital city of Babylonia, an ancient kingdom located in Mesopotamia, the region between the Tigris and the Euphrates rivers, an area now in the modern country of Iraq. The city of Babylon was located on the banks of the Euphrates River, about fifty-five miles from the modern city of Baghdad. Babylon plays a major role in the Bible, especially during the time of the OT prophets. Babylon or the Babylonians are mentioned in the books of 2 Kings, 1–2 Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, Psalms, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, Micah, Habakkuk, and Zechariah. Babylon also appears at the very beginning of the biblical story (Gen. 10–11) as well as at the very end (Rev. 14; 16–18; cf. 1 Pet. 5:13).

History

The Sumerian and Akkadian period. Around 3000 BC one of the earliest civilizations of the ancient world developed in the southernmost region of Mesopotamia. The Sumerians developed several innovations that nurtured and contributed to the rise of large, complex, urban civilizations. These developments included irrigation, writing (especially in regard to government documentation), the city-state, the accumulation of capital, the wheel, the potter’s wheel, monumental architecture, the number system based on the number sixty (we still use this for time as well as for geometry—e.g., sixty minutes in an hour, 360 degrees in a circle), schools, and the cylinder seal.

The Akkadian king Sargon conquered most of Mesopotamia around 2350 BC. He built his capital at Akkad and established Akkadian as the main language of Mesopotamia, a feature that was to remain characteristic for many centuries. The city of Babylon first appears in nonbiblical literary documents during this time, but only as a minor provincial city.

The Old Babylonian period. At about the same time, a group of people called “Amorites” (lit., “those from the west”) started migrating in fairly large numbers eastward into southern Mesopotamia. Embracing much of the old Sumerian-related culture as well as the Akkadian language, these Amorites soon became a regional power, and they built the city of Babylon into one of the most important cities in Mesopotamia. One of the most famous kings to rise to power during this “Old Babylonian” era was Hammurabi (c. 1728–1686 BC [many scholars now refer to him as Hammurapi]). It was his extensive diplomatic and military skill that enabled Babylon to rise to power so quickly and in such a spectacular fashion. Hammurabi’s actual empire lasted only a brief time, but his legacy was long-lasting, and the entire central-southern region of Mesopotamia continued to be known as Babylonia for over a thousand years.

After Hammurabi died, Babylon declined in power. For the next few hundred years Mesopotamia was characterized by chaos and power struggles. Then around 800 BC the Assyrians (from the northern end of Mesopotamia) rose to power and dominated the entire region. The Assyrians also played a major role in the Bible, appearing frequently in the books of 2 Kings and Isaiah.

The Neo-Babylonian Empire. In the last quarter of the seventh century BC, however, the Babylonians steadily grew in power. A large migration of Arameans into Babylonia had taken place, and the people in Babylonia had replaced Akkadian with Aramaic as their spoken language. The Chaldeans, a large and powerful group living in the Babylonian region, intermarried with the descendants of these migrating Arameans to develop a civilization now known as Neo-Babylonia. Once again the city of Babylon rose to splendor and prominence. Eventually this new Babylonia wrested control of much of the ancient Near East from the Assyrians and their Egyptian allies, decisively defeating them in 612 BC to become the new superpower empire of the ancient Near East. A powerful dynasty was started by Nabopolassar (626–605 BC) and continued by Nebuchadnezzar (604–562 BC), the most powerful and prominent of Babylon’s kings.

Babylon controlled most of the ancient Near East at a critical time in biblical history. Nebuchadnezzar, the most famous Babylonian king of this era, besieged Jerusalem and destroyed it completely in 587/586 BC. Nebuchadnezzar appears in the Bible numerous times, especially in the books of 2 Kings, Jeremiah, and Daniel. He was the one responsible for taking the leadership of Judah into exile in Babylonia after the destruction of Jerusalem.

Surprisingly, this powerful empire did not last very long. As discussed below, several of the OT prophets prophesied the end of Babylon, and indeed Babylon crumbled quickly and eventually disappeared from history. How did this happen?

Persian and Greek rule. First of all, Nab­o­ni­dus, the last king of Babylon (555–539 BC), tried to revise the religion of the people away from the worship of their main god, Marduk, but he only alienated himself from the powerful nobles of Babylon as well as from the general population. Leaving his son Belshazzar in charge, Nabonidus moved to Arabia for ten years. When he finally returned, the Persians were threatening Babylon, and Nabonidus had little power to stop them. Sealing the Persian victory was the defection of Ugbaru, one of the most powerful Babylonian princes. Thus, Cyrus, king of Persia, conquered Babylon without meeting any substantial resistance from the city (539 BC). Apparently, the Babylonians greeted Cyrus more as a liberator than as a conqueror. Babylon thus became a city within the Persian Empire.

About fifty years later the city of Babylon revolted against the Persians, and the Persian king Xerxes recaptured it (482 BC), sacked it, demolished its spectacular fortifications, burned the great temple of the Babylonian god Marduk, and even carried away the statue of Marduk as a spoil of war. However, the Greek historian Herodotus, writing around 450 BC, indicates that Babylon had not been completely destroyed.

In the next century Alexander the Great conquered the entire region, defeating the Persians in 331 BC. Alexander was welcomed warmly by the remaining citizens of Babylon, and thus he treated the city favorably at first. However, in 324 BC a close friend of Alexander’s died, and Alexander tore down part of the city wall east of the royal palace to build a funeral pyre platform in his friend’s honor, thus destroying a significant part of the city.

The fall of Babylon. After Alexander died, Seleucus, one of his four generals, seized Babylon (312 BC) and plundered the city and the surrounding area. The next Seleucid king, Antiochus I (281–261 BC), dealt the death blow to the city of Babylon. He built a new capital for the region fifty-five miles to the north and then moved the entire civilian population of Babylon to the new city. The once great city of Babylon, now depopulated and seriously damaged physically by the Seleucid kings, fell into oblivion. Although Antiochus IV (173 BC) tried for a brief period to revive the city, Babylon, for all practical purposes, had ceased to exist.

The ruined site is mentioned a few other times in history. The Roman emperor Trajan spent the winter of AD 116 in Babylon, finding nothing there except ruins. The spectacular fall of Babylon and the city’s state of terrible desolation then became proverbial. In the second century AD Lucian wrote that Nineveh vanished without a trace, and that soon people will search in vain for Babylon. In fulfillment of biblical prophecy (e.g., Jer. 50–51), the city of Babylon went from being the most important and most spectacular city in the world to being a desolate, insignificant pile of rubble.

The Splendor of Babylon

During the time of Nebuchadnezzar the city of Babylon was developed into a spectacular city, certainly one of the most impressive cities in the ancient Near East. The city was built on the banks of the Euphrates River with a large, imposing bridge connecting the two banks. Huge public buildings, palaces, and temples lined the banks of the river. The city was enclosed by two walls. The gates of the outer walls have not yet been located, but archaeologists have identified nine large, impressive gates of the inner wall. The most famous of these is the Ishtar Gate, which has been dismantled and reconstructed in the Pergamon Museum in Berlin. The walls of this gate are lined with bright blue glazed ceramic tile and decorated with numerous reliefs of lions and dragons. A major structure in the city was the great temple of Marduk, the central Babylonian deity, but the city also had temples dedicated to numerous other gods. Connected to the great temple was a spectacular processional street running through the heart of the city. The city also contained large residential homes as well as three immense royal palaces.

A fourth-century BC Greek historian mentions that Nebuchadnezzar built an amazing garden for one of his wives. This garden, commonly known as the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, was designated by the ancient Greeks as one of the Seven Wonders of the World. Archaeologists, however, have been unable to locate such a garden in the excavations of Babylon, and some scholars doubt its existence.

Babylon in the Bible

The terms “Babylon” and “Babylonian,” in addition to the related terms “Chaldea” and “Chaldean,” appear over three hundred times in the Bible, indicating the important role that Babylon plays in Israel’s history.

Old Testament. Genesis 10:10 states that Babylon was one of the first centers of the kingdom of the mighty warrior Nimrod, but the puzzling nature of Nimrod and the difficulties encountered in interpreting Gen. 10 make it difficult to state much about this reference with certainty.

The better-known incident in Genesis regarding Babylon is the story about the tower of Babel (Gen. 11:1–9). Note that in Gen. 9:1–7 God commands Noah and his family to scatter over the earth and replenish its population. The builders of the tower of Babel are doing just the opposite of the divine injunction, trying to stop the scattering.

Genesis 11:2 locates the tower of Babel on “a plain in Shinar” (cf. 10:10; 14:1), the broad, alluvial plain of the Tigris and the Euphrates rivers south of modern Baghdad. Most scholars suspect that the tower of Babel was a ziggurat, an elevated temple tower. Common in Mesopotamia, these were worship centers where priests climbed up extensive stairways to offer their sacrifices to the gods. A temple shrine usually capped the top of the ziggurat. This elevated shrine was understood to be the “gateway to the gods,” a place where human priests and their deities supposedly met. The tower of Babel story in Genesis, however, introduces a humorous wordplay regarding this tradition. “Babel” (as well as “Babylon”) means “gateway to the gods” or “gate of the gods” in the local Mesopotamian languages. Ironically, however, in Hebrew the word babel is related to balal, meaning “to confuse.” Thus, Gen. 11:9 presents a colorful wordplay or parody on the name of Babel. In a humorous criticism of the future great city, that verse suggests ironically that the name “Babel” does not really refer to the “gate of the gods” as the Mesopotamians intended, but rather to the judgmental confusion that God brought against them.

Thus, the city of Babel/Babylon carried negative connotations from the very beginning of the biblical story. Genesis 11 introduces Babel as a symbol of human arrogance and rebellion against God. Later in Israel’s history the city of Babylon will continue to have negative associations, and once again it becomes a powerful symbol of human arrogance and rebellion against God.

The books of 1–2 Kings tell the tragic story of how Israel and Judah turn away from God to worship idols, ignoring the warnings that God gives them through the prophets. As foretold, the northern kingdom, Israel, is thus destroyed by the Assyrians in 722 BC. However, the southern kingdom, Judah, also fails to take heed and continues to worship pagan gods in spite of repeated warnings and calls to repentance from the prophets. Prophets such as Jeremiah repeatedly proclaim that if Judah and Jerusalem do not repent and turn from their idolatry and acts of injustice, then God will send the Babylonians to destroy them (see esp. Jer. 20–39). Jeremiah refers to the Babylonians 198 times, and the prophet personally experiences the terrible Babylonian siege and destruction of Jerusalem. Jeremiah 39 and 52 describe the actual fall of Jerusalem to Nebuchadnezzar and his Babylonian army. This same tragic story is recounted in 2 Kings 24–25. Thus, in 586 BC Nebuchadnezzar and his army completely destroy Jerusalem, burning the city and the temple to the ground and carrying off most of the population into exile in Babylonia.

Babylon appears in the OT prophetic literature in another context as well. Because of the apostasy of Israel and Judah, the prophets preach judgment on them. But the prophets also preach judgment on the enemies of Israel and Judah for exploiting or attacking and destroying God’s people. Jeremiah, for example, prophesies against numerous nations and cities (Jer. 46–49), but he focuses especially upon Babylon (Jer. 50:1–51:58). Likewise, judgment on Babylon is a central theme in Isa. 13; 14; 21; 47. In the OT, no other foe brought such terrible destruction on Jerusalem. In later literature this particular event thus becomes the prototypical picture of horrendous death and destruction, and Babylon becomes the literary symbol epitomizing all of Israel’s enemies.

New Testament. Babylon appears again at the end of the biblical story. In Rev. 17–18 John describes the enemy of God’s kingdom as a harlot dressed in scarlet and riding on a beast. One of the titles written on her head is “Babylon the Great” (17:5). Some commentators believe that John is describing a literal resurrected city of Babylon. That is, they propose that Babylon will be rebuilt on its original site and become the center of government for the antichrist. Many other scholars, however, maintain that the harlot of Rev. 17–18 symbolizes ancient Rome, not a modern rebuilt Babylon. They argue that the term “Babylon” is used symbolically in Revelation. Supporting this view is the apostle Peter’s apparent use of the term “Babylon” to refer to Rome in 1 Pet. 5:13 (“she who is in Babylon . . . sends you her greetings”). Most NT scholars conclude that in this verse “she” is a reference to the church and that “Babylon” is a coded or symbolic reference to Rome.

Babylon was the capital city of Babylonia, an ancient kingdom located in Mesopotamia, the region between the Tigris and the Euphrates rivers, an area now in the modern country of Iraq. The city of Babylon was located on the banks of the Euphrates River, about fifty-five miles from the modern city of Baghdad. Babylon plays a major role in the Bible, especially during the time of the OT prophets. Babylon or the Babylonians are mentioned in the books of 2 Kings, 1–2 Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, Psalms, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, Micah, Habakkuk, and Zechariah. Babylon also appears at the very beginning of the biblical story (Gen. 10–11) as well as at the very end (Rev. 14; 16–18; cf. 1 Pet. 5:13).

History

The Sumerian and Akkadian period. Around 3000 BC one of the earliest civilizations of the ancient world developed in the southernmost region of Mesopotamia. The Sumerians developed several innovations that nurtured and contributed to the rise of large, complex, urban civilizations. These developments included irrigation, writing (especially in regard to government documentation), the city-state, the accumulation of capital, the wheel, the potter’s wheel, monumental architecture, the number system based on the number sixty (we still use this for time as well as for geometry—e.g., sixty minutes in an hour, 360 degrees in a circle), schools, and the cylinder seal.

The Akkadian king Sargon conquered most of Mesopotamia around 2350 BC. He built his capital at Akkad and established Akkadian as the main language of Mesopotamia, a feature that was to remain characteristic for many centuries. The city of Babylon first appears in nonbiblical literary documents during this time, but only as a minor provincial city.

The Old Babylonian period. At about the same time, a group of people called “Amorites” (lit., “those from the west”) started migrating in fairly large numbers eastward into southern Mesopotamia. Embracing much of the old Sumerian-related culture as well as the Akkadian language, these Amorites soon became a regional power, and they built the city of Babylon into one of the most important cities in Mesopotamia. One of the most famous kings to rise to power during this “Old Babylonian” era was Hammurabi (c. 1728–1686 BC [many scholars now refer to him as Hammurapi]). It was his extensive diplomatic and military skill that enabled Babylon to rise to power so quickly and in such a spectacular fashion. Hammurabi’s actual empire lasted only a brief time, but his legacy was long-lasting, and the entire central-southern region of Mesopotamia continued to be known as Babylonia for over a thousand years.

After Hammurabi died, Babylon declined in power. For the next few hundred years Mesopotamia was characterized by chaos and power struggles. Then around 800 BC the Assyrians (from the northern end of Mesopotamia) rose to power and dominated the entire region. The Assyrians also played a major role in the Bible, appearing frequently in the books of 2 Kings and Isaiah.

The Neo-Babylonian Empire. In the last quarter of the seventh century BC, however, the Babylonians steadily grew in power. A large migration of Arameans into Babylonia had taken place, and the people in Babylonia had replaced Akkadian with Aramaic as their spoken language. The Chaldeans, a large and powerful group living in the Babylonian region, intermarried with the descendants of these migrating Arameans to develop a civilization now known as Neo-Babylonia. Once again the city of Babylon rose to splendor and prominence. Eventually this new Babylonia wrested control of much of the ancient Near East from the Assyrians and their Egyptian allies, decisively defeating them in 612 BC to become the new superpower empire of the ancient Near East. A powerful dynasty was started by Nabopolassar (626–605 BC) and continued by Nebuchadnezzar (604–562 BC), the most powerful and prominent of Babylon’s kings.

Babylon controlled most of the ancient Near East at a critical time in biblical history. Nebuchadnezzar, the most famous Babylonian king of this era, besieged Jerusalem and destroyed it completely in 587/586 BC. Nebuchadnezzar appears in the Bible numerous times, especially in the books of 2 Kings, Jeremiah, and Daniel. He was the one responsible for taking the leadership of Judah into exile in Babylonia after the destruction of Jerusalem.

Surprisingly, this powerful empire did not last very long. As discussed below, several of the OT prophets prophesied the end of Babylon, and indeed Babylon crumbled quickly and eventually disappeared from history. How did this happen?

Persian and Greek rule. First of all, Nab­o­ni­dus, the last king of Babylon (555–539 BC), tried to revise the religion of the people away from the worship of their main god, Marduk, but he only alienated himself from the powerful nobles of Babylon as well as from the general population. Leaving his son Belshazzar in charge, Nabonidus moved to Arabia for ten years. When he finally returned, the Persians were threatening Babylon, and Nabonidus had little power to stop them. Sealing the Persian victory was the defection of Ugbaru, one of the most powerful Babylonian princes. Thus, Cyrus, king of Persia, conquered Babylon without meeting any substantial resistance from the city (539 BC). Apparently, the Babylonians greeted Cyrus more as a liberator than as a conqueror. Babylon thus became a city within the Persian Empire.

About fifty years later the city of Babylon revolted against the Persians, and the Persian king Xerxes recaptured it (482 BC), sacked it, demolished its spectacular fortifications, burned the great temple of the Babylonian god Marduk, and even carried away the statue of Marduk as a spoil of war. However, the Greek historian Herodotus, writing around 450 BC, indicates that Babylon had not been completely destroyed.

In the next century Alexander the Great conquered the entire region, defeating the Persians in 331 BC. Alexander was welcomed warmly by the remaining citizens of Babylon, and thus he treated the city favorably at first. However, in 324 BC a close friend of Alexander’s died, and Alexander tore down part of the city wall east of the royal palace to build a funeral pyre platform in his friend’s honor, thus destroying a significant part of the city.

The fall of Babylon. After Alexander died, Seleucus, one of his four generals, seized Babylon (312 BC) and plundered the city and the surrounding area. The next Seleucid king, Antiochus I (281–261 BC), dealt the death blow to the city of Babylon. He built a new capital for the region fifty-five miles to the north and then moved the entire civilian population of Babylon to the new city. The once great city of Babylon, now depopulated and seriously damaged physically by the Seleucid kings, fell into oblivion. Although Antiochus IV (173 BC) tried for a brief period to revive the city, Babylon, for all practical purposes, had ceased to exist.

The ruined site is mentioned a few other times in history. The Roman emperor Trajan spent the winter of AD 116 in Babylon, finding nothing there except ruins. The spectacular fall of Babylon and the city’s state of terrible desolation then became proverbial. In the second century AD Lucian wrote that Nineveh vanished without a trace, and that soon people will search in vain for Babylon. In fulfillment of biblical prophecy (e.g., Jer. 50–51), the city of Babylon went from being the most important and most spectacular city in the world to being a desolate, insignificant pile of rubble.

The Splendor of Babylon

During the time of Nebuchadnezzar the city of Babylon was developed into a spectacular city, certainly one of the most impressive cities in the ancient Near East. The city was built on the banks of the Euphrates River with a large, imposing bridge connecting the two banks. Huge public buildings, palaces, and temples lined the banks of the river. The city was enclosed by two walls. The gates of the outer walls have not yet been located, but archaeologists have identified nine large, impressive gates of the inner wall. The most famous of these is the Ishtar Gate, which has been dismantled and reconstructed in the Pergamon Museum in Berlin. The walls of this gate are lined with bright blue glazed ceramic tile and decorated with numerous reliefs of lions and dragons. A major structure in the city was the great temple of Marduk, the central Babylonian deity, but the city also had temples dedicated to numerous other gods. Connected to the great temple was a spectacular processional street running through the heart of the city. The city also contained large residential homes as well as three immense royal palaces.

A fourth-century BC Greek historian mentions that Nebuchadnezzar built an amazing garden for one of his wives. This garden, commonly known as the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, was designated by the ancient Greeks as one of the Seven Wonders of the World. Archaeologists, however, have been unable to locate such a garden in the excavations of Babylon, and some scholars doubt its existence.

Babylon in the Bible

The terms “Babylon” and “Babylonian,” in addition to the related terms “Chaldea” and “Chaldean,” appear over three hundred times in the Bible, indicating the important role that Babylon plays in Israel’s history.

Old Testament. Genesis 10:10 states that Babylon was one of the first centers of the kingdom of the mighty warrior Nimrod, but the puzzling nature of Nimrod and the difficulties encountered in interpreting Gen. 10 make it difficult to state much about this reference with certainty.

The better-known incident in Genesis regarding Babylon is the story about the tower of Babel (Gen. 11:1–9). Note that in Gen. 9:1–7 God commands Noah and his family to scatter over the earth and replenish its population. The builders of the tower of Babel are doing just the opposite of the divine injunction, trying to stop the scattering.

Genesis 11:2 locates the tower of Babel on “a plain in Shinar” (cf. 10:10; 14:1), the broad, alluvial plain of the Tigris and the Euphrates rivers south of modern Baghdad. Most scholars suspect that the tower of Babel was a ziggurat, an elevated temple tower. Common in Mesopotamia, these were worship centers where priests climbed up extensive stairways to offer their sacrifices to the gods. A temple shrine usually capped the top of the ziggurat. This elevated shrine was understood to be the “gateway to the gods,” a place where human priests and their deities supposedly met. The tower of Babel story in Genesis, however, introduces a humorous wordplay regarding this tradition. “Babel” (as well as “Babylon”) means “gateway to the gods” or “gate of the gods” in the local Mesopotamian languages. Ironically, however, in Hebrew the word babel is related to balal, meaning “to confuse.” Thus, Gen. 11:9 presents a colorful wordplay or parody on the name of Babel. In a humorous criticism of the future great city, that verse suggests ironically that the name “Babel” does not really refer to the “gate of the gods” as the Mesopotamians intended, but rather to the judgmental confusion that God brought against them.

Thus, the city of Babel/Babylon carried negative connotations from the very beginning of the biblical story. Genesis 11 introduces Babel as a symbol of human arrogance and rebellion against God. Later in Israel’s history the city of Babylon will continue to have negative associations, and once again it becomes a powerful symbol of human arrogance and rebellion against God.

The books of 1–2 Kings tell the tragic story of how Israel and Judah turn away from God to worship idols, ignoring the warnings that God gives them through the prophets. As foretold, the northern kingdom, Israel, is thus destroyed by the Assyrians in 722 BC. However, the southern kingdom, Judah, also fails to take heed and continues to worship pagan gods in spite of repeated warnings and calls to repentance from the prophets. Prophets such as Jeremiah repeatedly proclaim that if Judah and Jerusalem do not repent and turn from their idolatry and acts of injustice, then God will send the Babylonians to destroy them (see esp. Jer. 20–39). Jeremiah refers to the Babylonians 198 times, and the prophet personally experiences the terrible Babylonian siege and destruction of Jerusalem. Jeremiah 39 and 52 describe the actual fall of Jerusalem to Nebuchadnezzar and his Babylonian army. This same tragic story is recounted in 2 Kings 24–25. Thus, in 586 BC Nebuchadnezzar and his army completely destroy Jerusalem, burning the city and the temple to the ground and carrying off most of the population into exile in Babylonia.

Babylon appears in the OT prophetic literature in another context as well. Because of the apostasy of Israel and Judah, the prophets preach judgment on them. But the prophets also preach judgment on the enemies of Israel and Judah for exploiting or attacking and destroying God’s people. Jeremiah, for example, prophesies against numerous nations and cities (Jer. 46–49), but he focuses especially upon Babylon (Jer. 50:1–51:58). Likewise, judgment on Babylon is a central theme in Isa. 13; 14; 21; 47. In the OT, no other foe brought such terrible destruction on Jerusalem. In later literature this particular event thus becomes the prototypical picture of horrendous death and destruction, and Babylon becomes the literary symbol epitomizing all of Israel’s enemies.

New Testament. Babylon appears again at the end of the biblical story. In Rev. 17–18 John describes the enemy of God’s kingdom as a harlot dressed in scarlet and riding on a beast. One of the titles written on her head is “Babylon the Great” (17:5). Some commentators believe that John is describing a literal resurrected city of Babylon. That is, they propose that Babylon will be rebuilt on its original site and become the center of government for the antichrist. Many other scholars, however, maintain that the harlot of Rev. 17–18 symbolizes ancient Rome, not a modern rebuilt Babylon. They argue that the term “Babylon” is used symbolically in Revelation. Supporting this view is the apostle Peter’s apparent use of the term “Babylon” to refer to Rome in 1 Pet. 5:13 (“she who is in Babylon . . . sends you her greetings”). Most NT scholars conclude that in this verse “she” is a reference to the church and that “Babylon” is a coded or symbolic reference to Rome.

Every faithful translation of the Bible is the word of God. In this respect, Christianity is very different from Islam, which considers the Arabic version of the Qur’an exclusively holy. It is true that only the original versions of the biblical books, which were written in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek, were verbally inspired, and this means that individual translations, like copies, can contain errors. Translations also necessarily involve some degree of interpretation. However, all language is created by God, and in the incarnation the Word became fully human as well as fully divine. In God’s hands, every human language is as capable as any other of expressing his truth.

Since Pentecost, the Holy Spirit has been at work to reverse the effect of human sin at Babel (Gen. 11:9), not by reducing all languages to one, but by redeeming the diversity and richness of the world’s languages so that all can hear God speak to them in their own tongue (Acts 2:1–11). Indeed, translations of Scripture themselves transform the languages and cultures in which they are written, endowing them with new or revised concepts of God, humanity, sin, and the means of salvation.

The History of Translation

Bible translation began long before the Bible as we know it was complete. In the fifth century BC the Israelites who returned from exile spoke Aramaic. Thus, they needed the Levites to translate the Hebrew law for them (Neh. 8:8). This Levitical teaching was probably an early example of a Targum, a translation into Aramaic with interpretation and expansion. We do not know exactly when the Targumim began to be written down, but some of the earliest fragments that have been found are among the DSS.

By about the third century BC the dominant languages of Palestine were Greek and Aramaic. Many NT quotations from the OT use an established Greek translation of the OT. This was known as the Septuagint (LXX), after the legend that it was translated by seventy-two men, six from each tribe of Israel, on the orders of Ptolemy Philadelphus of Egypt (285–247 BC). The NT was written in similar “common” (koinē) Greek, but in some places the Gospels and Acts translate words that Jesus and Paul originally spoke in Aramaic (Mark 5:41; 15:34; Acts 21:40; 22:2; 26:14; see also John 5:2; 19:13, 17, 20; 20:16).

Until Pentecost, God’s revelation was translated only into the languages spoken by the Jewish people in their everyday life. At Pentecost, however, the coming of the Holy Spirit was marked by a display of miraculous linguistic gifts, and a new era of Bible translation had begun (Acts 2). As Christians obeyed Christ’s command to take the word of God into all the world, they began to translate it into all the languages used by the growing church.

Within three centuries, Scripture was translated from the original Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek into Syriac, Coptic, and Latin. The earliest translations into these languages were then revised and improved in the subsequent centuries until some, such as Jerome’s Latin Vulgate and the Syriac Peshitta, emerged as acknowledged standards. Other early translations included Ethiopic, Armenian, Georgian, and Old Slavonic. Many of these languages were already written, but as missionaries ventured further, they sometimes had to start by reducing spoken languages to writing. Ulfilas, missionary to the Goths, was the first to do this.

All of the thirty-three translations prior to the Reformation had to be copied out by hand, and almost all were “secondary translations” made from the Latin. Moreover, despite the efforts of early reformers such as John Wycliffe (AD 1330–84), the Catholic Church continued to use the Latin text itself, which was accessible only to the educated. In the sixteenth century, however, the printing press was invented, Renaissance scholars rediscovered the value of consulting texts in the original Hebrew and Greek, and Protestantism realized that believers need the Bible in their mother tongue.

The most influential sixteenth-century translator into English was William Tyndale (1494–1536). His work on the NT and parts of the OT was gradually expanded and revised by other scholars, culminating in the 1611 King James Version, which is still widely used. Meanwhile, other European translations were produced in German (by Martin Luther), Spanish, Hungarian, Portuguese, and French.

The Reformation also gave new momentum to mission outside Europe, and by the end of the eighteenth century the number of languages having the Bible had roughly doubled. A much greater global achievement, however, began in the nineteenth century, when the newly formed Bible societies, with other mission agencies, were instrumental in the translation and publication of portions of Scripture in over four hundred languages. Famous translators from this century include William Carey in India, John Robert Morrison in China, Henry Martyn in Persia, and Adoniram Judson in Burma. About five hundred more translations were added in the first half of the twentieth century. Progress was, nevertheless, slow. Many languages were difficult to analyze, and it was particularly hard to produce translations that read smoothly, using the genres and idioms that a native speaker would use.

Since the 1950s, linguistic science has revolutionized the way that translation is carried out, and organizations such as Wycliffe Bible Translators have set themselves the task of giving every person in the world the Scriptures in their everyday language. Increasingly, translation is carried out by linguistically trained native speakers of the target languages, working wherever possible from the original Hebrew and Greek. Translators understand better than before how extended discourses are constructed at levels above the sentence, and how social and pragmatic factors affect meaning. The combination of linguistics and technology has also greatly increased the speed with which translations can be produced; sometimes a first draft in a new language can be generated from a closely related language using a computer program.

Types of Translation

All translators aim for both accuracy and acceptability, but the work of translation constantly involves compromise between these two factors. There are, broadly speaking, two types of translation: formal correspondence and functional equivalence.

In a formal correspondence translation (also called “literal”), the translator, as far as possible, preserves the word order and structure of the original text and translates each word the same way every time it occurs, even if the result is slightly wooden. This is helpful for word studies, and it preserves patterns of repetition that give structure to the text. There is always a danger, however, that the closest formal match to the original actually conveys a meaning different from the original in a particular context. Literalness is not the same as accuracy. Pushed to its extreme, formal correspondence produces the kind of semitranslation found in interlinear texts (where the English is reproduced word for word below a line of Hebrew, Aramaic, or Greek); it is not grammatically acceptable, cannot be used on its own for public or private reading, and loses many of the nuances of the original. However, formal correspondence translations that avoid such extremes are important for detailed Bible study.

In a functional equivalence translation (also called “dynamic,” “idiomatic equivalence,” or “meaning-based”), the translator aims to produce the same response in a modern reader as the original text would have done in an ancient reader. To achieve this, the syntactic structures and figures of speech of Greek and Hebrew are replaced by their equivalents in the target language. A word may be translated many different ways in different contexts, even when it has a single basic meaning in the original. While this preserves some nuances, it loses others, obscuring structure and the deliberate echo of one verse in another. In this case there is always a danger that the translator has misunderstood the original meaning and the response that it would have produced. Pushed to its extreme, this type shades into paraphrase, and it may be overly subjective or jeopardize the historical particularity of the text. However, dynamic equivalence translations that avoid such pitfalls are valuable for evangelism, new readers, and public and devotional reading.

In practice most translations sit somewhere on the spectrum between these two extremes. Some intermediate translations are a deliberate compromise, aiming to keep as close as possible to the original while communicating its meaning clearly in a common language that is accessible to all. The NIV is a widely used example. One problem in using such a translation is knowing when form has been preserved at the expense of meaning, and when meaning has been preserved at the expense of form. For serious study, therefore, it is useful to compare intermediate translations with translations of the other two types, and to learn from the introductory material what translation principles have been used.

To illustrate the differences between the types of translation, consider how Rom. 3:21 is rendered by the NASB (formal correspondence), the NIV (intermediate), and the NLT (functional equivalence):

But now apart from the Law the righteousness of God has been manifested, being witnessed by the Law and the Prophets. (NASB)

But now apart from the law the righteousness of God has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify. (NIV)

But now God has shown us a way to be made right with him without keeping the requirements of the law, as was promised in the writings of Moses and the prophets long ago. (NLT)

Further Choices in Translation

Within this spectrum translators have further detailed decisions to make.

First, what are the best available Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek texts, as determined by the discipline of textual criticism?

Second, what style should be used? An elevated or archaic style is sometimes preferred in order to convey the dignity of the word; others use a deliberately colloquial style in order to maximize accessibility. Different books of the Bible themselves have different styles and genres, ranging from vivid stories and evocative poems to precise doctrinal formulations, and a translation may attempt to reflect this diversity. At the same time, the style and range of vocabulary chosen will depend to some extent on the needs of the target audience.

Third, should the translation contain complexity and ambiguity when the original does, or should it clarify and simplify? Some parts of Scripture were never easy reading even in the original (see 2 Pet. 3:15–16). However, it is sometimes necessary to disambiguate in order to produce grammatically acceptable text in the target language. In modern books it is also normal to divide text into paragraphs and chapters, often with subheadings. Ancient texts, however, were written without any such breaks, so this too is an interpretation of the text for the sake of clarity.

Fourth, what should the translator do when there is no equivalent word or phrase in the target language? Many people groups have never seen a sheep! Sometimes a choice must be made between coining a new word and refocusing the meaning of an existing word. This is particularly difficult when deciding how to refer to God in a pagan culture. Translating gesture can also be challenging. For example, in Jer. 31:19 the Hebrew is literally “I slapped my thigh,” which is an indication of distress; but in Western culture slapping one’s thigh would probably mean enjoying a good joke, so the NIV translates the Hebrew as “beat my breast.” Footnotes may be necessary to ensure that the meaning is fully understood.

Finally, in cultures that have possessed the Bible for many generations tradition plays a role. A previous translation of a particular verse may be so well known that, unless it is seriously wrong, it is preferable to let it stand than to “modernize” it. Conversely, tradition may so change the meaning of “biblical” words (such as “saint”) that verses containing them need to be retranslated.

As a result of all these decisions, there is scope for many different translations even in a single language. Where several translations exist, serious study should always include comparison between translations along with the use of commentaries. Where available resources as yet permit only one translation in a language, the type of translation to be produced must be chosen with great care. In either case, new translations will always be needed. On the one hand, although God’s word never changes, scholars can improve our textual, linguistic, and exegetical understanding of the Hebrew and Greek originals. On the other hand, the human languages into which the Bible is translated are in a process of constant change.

Gender-Neutral Translations

Recent English-language translations have grappled in particular with the question of gender neutrality. All languages differ in the way they denote gender. Until recently, the masculine gender in English was also the inclusive gender; hence, “man” could simply mean “person” or “humanity.” In many cases, the biblical languages work the same way, so that the older dynamic translations could, like formal correspondence translations, mirror the original. Feminist concerns, however, have changed English usage. It is increasingly unacceptable to use the masculine gender inclusively, and everyday language now substitutes plurals (“person,” or “they” with singular meaning) or expansions (“man or woman,” “he or she”). This introduces a divergence between formal correspondence translations, which preserve the gender usage of the original, and functional equivalence translations, which prefer inclusive forms to masculine forms if the meaning of the original is entirely inclusive. To complicate matters further, many careful readers of Scripture disagree on where masculine nuances exist and how important they are, in each specific instance, to the meaning of the text.

The book of Genesis (“Origins”) is well named because it provides the foundation for the rest of the Bible and speaks of the beginnings of the world, humanity, sin, redemption, the people of God, covenant, marriage, Sabbath, work, and much more. Genesis is the first chapter of the Pentateuch, a five-part story of the origins of the nation of Israel. Genesis is the preamble to that account, leading up to the pivotal moment of the exodus and the move toward the promised land.

Authorship

As noted above, Genesis is the opening to the Pentateuch as a whole, so the question of the authorship of Genesis is connected to the question of the authorship of the Pentateuch as a whole. Genesis (and the entire Pentateuch) is anonymous, though Moses is said to have written down certain traditions that were included in the Pentateuch (Exod. 17:14; 24:4; 34:27; Num. 33:2; Deut. 31:22).

Later tradition speaks of the “law of Moses” (Josh. 1:7–8) or the “Book of Moses” (2 Chron. 25:4; Ezra 6:18; Neh. 13:1), though it is not certain whether these refer to the entire Pentateuch or merely to portions of it that were associated with Moses. The NT writers, as well as Jesus himself, speak of the Pentateuch in connection with Moses (e.g., Matt. 19:7; 22:24; Mark 7:10; 12:26; John 1:17; 5:46; 7:23).

The question of Moses’ role in writing the Pentateuch is more complicated, however. For instance, there are indications that Genesis was updated well after the death of Moses. Traditionally, these passages are called “post-Mosaica,” because they contain information that could be available only after the death of Moses. For example, Deut. 34 speaks of Moses’ death and burial. Apparently so much time has elapsed since his death that the writer can say, “to this day no one knows where his grave is” (v. 6). The writer then states, “since then, no prophet has risen in Israel like Moses” (v. 10), which also presumes a considerable length of time has passed. Other examples include Gen. 11:31, which refers to Abraham’s hometown as “Ur of the Chaldeans.” Although Ur was a very ancient city, the Chaldeans were an Aramaic-speaking tribe that only occupied Ur long after the time of Moses. Similarly, in Gen. 14:14 a city by the name of “Dan” is mentioned, but we know from Judg. 18 that this city only received this name during the period of the judges.

Despite these considerations, some scholars are still comfortable ascribing some “essential” authorship role to Moses. (For the main alternative theory for the authorship and date of the writing of Genesis, see Documentary Hypothesis; Pentateuch.)

Structure and Outline

Genesis may be outlined in more than one way. One method is to follow the toledot formulas that serve as an organizing structure for the book. The phrase “these are the toledot of X” (where X is the personal name of the character whose sons are the subject of the narrative that follows) is repeated ten times: 2:4; 5:1; 6:9; 10:1; 11:10, 27; 25:12, 19; 36:1 (cf. 36:9); 37:2 (see also 10:32; 25:13). For instance, Gen. 11:27 begins, “These are the toledot of Terah” (NIV: “This is the account of Terah’s family line”), while the account that follows is the story of Terah’s son Abraham. Toledot is best translated as “family history” or “account.” Hence, one can take Genesis as having a prologue (1:1–2:3) followed by ten episodes.

In terms of content and style, the book falls into three main units as follows:

I. The Primeval History (Gen. 1:1–11:26)

II. The Patriarchal Narrative (Gen. 11:27–36:43)

III. The Joseph Story (Gen. 37–50)

I. The primeval history (Gen. 1:1–11:26). The book opens with an account of creation given in two parts. Genesis 1:1–2:4a provides a creation account that describes the six days in which God created the heavens and the earth, followed by a seventh day of rest. Genesis 2:4b–25 then provides a second account of creation, this time with a focus on the creation of Adam and Eve. Genesis 3 then narrates the first sin of humanity, which introduces sin and death into the world. Genesis 4–11 provides four additional stories (the murder of Abel by Cain, the intermarrying of the “sons of God” with the “daughters of men,” the flood, and the tower of Babel). These stories show a creation gone wrong, God’s move to start over again with Noah and his family, and the persistence of sin thereafter. All of this leads to the story of the patriarchs, where God’s plan to set things right takes a decisive turn. These stories are connected by genealogies that mark the march of time as well as provide significant theological commentary.

II. The patriarchal narrative (Gen. 11:27–36:43). The middle section of the book of Genesis turns its attention to the patriarchs, so called because they are the fathers of the nation of Israel. The style of the book changes at this point, so that rather than following the story of all the world and moving at a fast pace, the narrative slows down and focuses on God creating a people to obey him and to bring those blessings to the whole world (12:1–3). God now determines to restore the blessing lost at Eden by reaching the world through the descendants of one individual, Abraham.

Abraham’s father, Terah, took Abram (as Abraham was then known), Abram’s wife Sarai (Sarah), and Terah’s grandson Lot and left Ur to settle in Harran in northern Mesopotamia. No explanation is given why. While they are settled in Harran, God commands Abraham to leave Ur in Mesopotamia and travel to Canaan. God promises that he will make him a great nation (implying land and many descendants), and that he will be blessed and will be a blessing to the nations (Gen. 12:1–3). That blessing requires Abraham and Sarah to have children, and this sets up much of the drama of his story. Often Abraham reacts in fear and not faith, but at the end of his story he has a solid confidence in God’s ability to take care of him and bring all the promises to fulfillment (Gen. 22).

Isaac, not Ishmael (Abraham’s son through Sarah’s maidservant Hagar; see Gen. 16), is the conduit of the promises to future generations. Even so, Isaac is not a highly developed character in the book of Genesis, although his near sacrifice in Gen. 22 is certainly a matter of great interest. The episode in his life that receives the lengthiest attention is the courtship with Rebekah (Gen. 24), and there the focus is primarily on her.

The account of Isaac’s life gives way to an account of his son Jacob. Jacob is a complex character. The first episodes of his story are about how he, the younger, inherits the blessing and becomes the conduit for the promise rather than his older brother, Esau. Jacob becomes an example of how God uses the foolish things of the world to accomplish his purposes. That the story of the patriarchs is a preamble to the story of the founding of Israel becomes obvious when Jacob’s name is changed to “Israel” after he fights with God (Gen. 32:22–32) and his wives give birth to twelve sons, who give their names to the twelve tribes of Israel.

III. The Joseph story (Gen. 37–50). The third section of Genesis focuses on the twelve sons of Jacob, in particular Joseph. A main theme seems to be God’s providential preservation of the family of the promise, in the context of a devastating famine. Joseph himself expresses the theme of this section at the end of the narrative, after his father dies and his brothers now wonder whether he will seek revenge against them. He reassures them by his statement that although they had meant their actions to harm him, he knows that God has used these very actions for good, for the salvation of the family of God (Gen. 50:19–20). Yes, they had just wanted to get rid of him, but God has used their jealousy to bring Joseph to Egypt. The wife of his owner had wanted to frame him for rape, but God has used this false accusation in order to have him thrown into jail, where he meets two of Pharaoh’s chief advisers. He had demonstrated to them his ability to interpret dreams, so when the chief cupbearer is restored to a position of influence, he can advise Pharaoh himself to turn to Joseph to interpret his disturbing dreams. These dreams have allowed Pharaoh, with Joseph’s help, to prepare for the famine. Joseph has risen to great prominence in Egypt, so when the famine comes, he is in a position to help his family, and the promise can continue to the next generations.

Among other secondary, yet important, themes of the Joseph narrative are the rising prominence of Judah and the lessening significance of Reuben. Judah at first is pictured as self-serving (Gen. 38), but by the end of the story he is willing to sacrifice himself for the good of his father and family (Gen. 44:18–34). This story thus demonstrates why the descendants of Judah have dominance over the descendants of the firstborn, Reuben, in later Israelite history. Also, the Joseph story recounts how Israel came to Egypt. This sets up the events of the book of Exodus.

Style and Genre

Style. Genesis is written in Hebrew prose of a high literary style. Words are carefully chosen not only to communicate the message of the book but also to attract the reader’s interest and attention.

Genre. Genesis is an account of the origins of the cosmos, humanity, and the people of God. Thus, it is proper to refer to the book as a work of history. Of course, there is more than one type of history. Some histories focus on wars, others on economics or politics. Moreover, Genesis is not history in the modern sense but follows ancient conventions, which do not call for scrupulous accuracy. The central concern of Genesis, as with the majority of biblical histories, is the relationship between God and his people. So, it is appropriate to identify Genesis as a theological history.

Some readers misunderstand the nature of the historical information that the book provides. For example, Gen. 1–2 communicates to the reader that it is the true God, not a god such as the Babylonian Marduk or the Canaanite Baal, who created the cosmos. The way some of the stories are told provides a challenge to rival stories from other ancient religions. One example is how the Bible describes the creation of Adam from the dust of the ground and the breath of God. This contrasts with the Mesopotamian creation account Enuma Elish, in which the god Marduk creates the first humans from the clay of the earth and the blood of a demon god. The biblical flood story also may be compared to other ancient flood stories, especially the account of the flood found in the Babylonian Epic of Gilgamesh. Genesis clearly interacts with such mythological stories to communicate important truths about the primeval period.

Message

The rich and complex book of Genesis pre-sents a profound message concerning God and his relationship with human beings. This short article cannot do justice to the book’s depth and importance, but it can point to what is perhaps its most important theme: God’s blessing.

Genesis 1–2 teaches that God created Adam and Eve and blessed them. They had everything they needed in the garden of Eden. They enjoyed a perfectly harmonious relationship with God and with each other. They wanted for nothing.

Genesis 3 explains how this blessed existence was disrupted. By choosing to rebel against God, Adam and Eve ruptured their relationship with God and, in consequence, with each other as well. They were expelled from the garden of Eden.

Even in the midst of his judgment, however, God began the work of restoring the blessing to his human creatures (Gen. 3:15). Thus begins the relentless work of God to bring restoration to his people.

New Testament Connections

Genesis is the foundation not just of the Pentateuch, and not just of the OT, but of the entire Bible. The story that begins with creation and fall is followed by the history of redemption, which continues into the NT and which understands Jesus Christ as the one whose death and resurrection serve to restore God’s blessing to his people. The full restoration of relationship awaits the consummation of history and the new Jerusalem, which is described in language telling us that heaven is a restoration (and more) of the conditions enjoyed by Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden (Rev. 21–22, esp. Rev. 22:2).

Of the many allusions to and quotations of Genesis found in the NT, only a few representative examples may be described here.

Paul points to the Abrahamic promise of the seed in Gen. 12:1–3 and proclaims that Jesus is that seed (Gal. 3:15–16). This claim is surprising in light of the OT’s clear understanding that it was the multiple descendants of Abraham constituting Israel who fulfilled this promise (Gen. 15:15). Paul would have known this, but he recognizes that Jesus is the ultimate descendant of Abraham, and that anyone who belongs to Jesus, Jew or Gentile, is also a participant in the Abrahamic promise (Gal. 3:29).

A second example comes from the way in which the author of Hebrews cites the Melchizedek tradition of Gen. 14:17–20. In Genesis, Melchizedek is a mysterious figure who is introduced as the priest-king of Salem (Jerusalem), whom Abraham acknowledges as a fellow worshiper of the true God. In order to make his argument that Jesus is the ultimate priest, the author of Hebrews connects Jesus with Melchizedek rather than with Aaron and asserts the superiority of Melchizedek because Abraham (and thus also Levi, Aaron’s ancestor) paid respects to this man (Heb. 7:1–10).

A final example comes from the Joseph narrative. Earlier, we observed that the narrative shows how God used the evil actions of people in order to save many people. In this, the Joseph narrative anticipates the death of Christ, who was nailed to the cross by the hands of wicked people, but God used this very action to accomplish a much greater salvation than he did through Joseph (see Acts 2:22–24).

The biblical corpus known as the Pentateuch consists of the first five books of the OT: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. The word “Pentateuch” comes from two Greek words (penta [“five”] and teuchos [“scroll case, book”]) and is a designation attested in the early church fathers. The collection is also commonly known as the “Five Books of Moses,” “the Law of Moses,” or simply the “Law,” reflecting the traditional Jewish name “Torah,” meaning “law” or “instruction.” The Torah is the first of three major sections that comprise the Hebrew Bible (Torah, Nebiim, Ketubim [Law, Prophets, Writings]); thus for both Jewish and Christian traditions it represents the introduction to the Bible as a whole as well as its interpretive foundation.

The English names for the books of the Pentateuch came from the Latin Vulgate, based on the Greek Septuagint. These appellations are mainly descriptive of their content. Genesis derives from “generations” or “origin,” Exodus means “going out,” Leviticus represents priestly (Levitical) service, Numbers refers to the censuses taken in the book, and Deuteronomy indicates “second law” because of Moses’ rehearsal of God’s commands (see Deut. 17:18). The Hebrew designations derive from opening words in each book. Bereshit (Genesis) means “in the beginning”; Shemot (Exodus), “[these are] the names”; Wayyiqra’ (Leviticus), “and he called”; Bemidbar (Numbers), “in the desert”; and Debarim (Deuteronomy), “[these are] the words.”

Referring to the Pentateuch as “Torah” or the “Law” reflects the climactic reception of God’s commands at Mount Sinai, which were to govern Israel’s life and worship in the promised land, including their journey to get there. However, calling the Pentateuch the “Law” can be a bit misleading because there are relatively few passages that simply list a set of commands, and all law passages are set within a broad narrative. The Pentateuch is a grand story that begins on a universal scale with the creation of the cosmos and ends on the plains of Moab as the reader anticipates the fulfillment of God’s plan to redeem a fallen world through his chosen people. The books offer distinct qualities and content, but they are also inherently dependent upon one another, as the narrative remains unbroken through the five volumes. Genesis ends with Jacob’s family in Egypt, and, though many years have passed, this is where Exodus begins. Leviticus outlines cultic life at the tabernacle (constructed at the end of Exodus) and even begins without a clear subject (“And he called . . .”), which requires the reader to supply “the Lord” from the last verse of Exodus. Numbers begins with an account of Israel’s fighting men as the nation prepares to leave Sinai, and Deuteronomy is Moses’ farewell address to the nation on the cusp of the promised land.

Authorship and Composition

Although the Pentateuch is technically an anonymous work, Jewish and Christian tradition attributes its authorship to Moses, the main figure of the story from Exodus to Deuteronomy. The arguments for attributing the authorship of the Pentateuch to Moses come from internal evidence within both Testaments. That Moses is responsible for at least portions of the Pentateuch is suggested by references to his explicit literary activity reflected within the narrative itself (Exod. 17:14; 24:4; 34:28; Num. 33:2; Deut. 31:9, 22, 24), if not implied in various literary formulas such as “the Lord said to Moses” (e.g., Exod. 39:1, 7, 21; Lev. 4:1; 11:1; 13:1; Num. 1:1; 2:1). Mosaic authorship receives support from the historical books, which use terms such as “the Book of the Law of Moses” in various forms and references in the preexilic history (Josh. 8:30–35; 23:6; 2 Kings 14:6) as well as the postexilic history (e.g., 2 Chron. 25:4; Ezra 6:18; Neh. 13:1). The same titles are used by NT authors (e.g., Mark 12:26; Luke 24:44; John 1:45), even referring to the Pentateuch simply by the name “Moses” at various points (e.g., Luke 16:29; 24:27; 2 Cor. 3:15).

Even with these examples, nowhere does the text explicitly state that Moses is responsible for the entire compilation of the Pentateuch or that he penned it with his own hand. Rather, a number of factors point to a later hand at work: Moses’ death and burial are referenced (Deut. 34), the conquest of Canaan is referred to as past (Deut. 2:12), and there is evidence that the names of people and places were updated and explained for later generations (e.g., “Dan” in Gen. 14:14; cf. Josh. 19:47; Judg. 18:28b–29). Based on these factors, it is reasonable to believe that the Pentateuch underwent editorial alteration as it was preserved within Jewish life and took its final shape after Moses’ lifetime.

Over the last century, the Documentary Hypothesis has dominated academic discussion of the Pentateuch’s composition. This theory was crystallized by Julius Wellhausen in his Prolegomena to the History of Israel in the late nineteenth century and posits that the Pentateuch originated from a variety of ancient sources derived from distinct authors and time periods that have been transmitted and joined through a long and complex process. Traditionally these documents are identified as J, E, D, and P. The J source is a document authored by the “Yahwist” (German, Jahwist) in Judah around 840 BC and is so called because the name “Yahweh” is used frequently in its text. The E source stands for “Elohist” because of its preference for the divine title “Elohim” and was composed in Israel around 700 BC. The D source stands for “Deuteronomy” because it reflects material found in that book; it was composed sometime around Josiah’s reform in 621 BC. The P document reflects material that priests would be concerned with in the postexilic time period, approximately 500 BC. This theory and its related forms stem from the scholarly concern over various literary characteristics such as the use of divine names; doublets and duplications in the text; observable patterns of style, terminology, and themes; and alleged discrepancies in facts, descriptions, and geographic or historical perspective.

Various documentary theories of composition have flourished over the last century of pentateuchal scholarship and still have many adherents. However, lack of scholarly agreement about the dating and character of the sources and the rise of other literary approaches to the text have many conservative and liberal scholars calling into question the accuracy and even interpretive benefit of the source theories. Moreover, if the literary observations used to create source distinctions can be explained in other ways, then the Documentary Hypothesis is significantly undermined.

In its canonical form, the pentateuchal narrative combines artistic prose, poetry, and law to tell a dramatic history spanning thousands of years. One could divide the story into six major sections: primeval history (Gen. 1–11), the patriarchs (Gen. 12–50), liberation from Egypt (Exod. 1–18), Sinai (Exod. 19:1–Num. 10:10), wilderness journey (Num. 10:11–36:13), and Moses’ farewell (Deuteronomy).

Primeval History (Gen. 1–11)

It is possible to divide Genesis into two parts based upon subject matter: the origin of creation and humankind’s call, fall, and punishment (chaps 1–11), and the origin of a family that would become God’s conduit of salvation and blessing for the world (chaps. 12–50).

The primeval history comprises essentially the first eleven chapters of Genesis, ending with the genealogy of Abraham in 11:26. Strictly speaking, 11:27 begins the patriarchal section with the sixth instance of the toledot formula found in Genesis, referencing Abraham’s father, Terah. The Hebrew phrase ’elleh toledot (“these are the generations of”) occurs in eleven places in Genesis and reflects a deliberate structural marker that one may use to divide the book into distinct episodes (2:4; 5:1; 6:9; 10:1; 11:10; 11:27; 25:12; 25:19; 36:1; 36:9; 37:2).

Genesis as we know it exhibits two distinct creation accounts in its first two chapters. Although critical scholars contend that the differing accounts reflect contradictory stories and different authors, it is just as convenient to recognize that the two stories vary in style and some content because they attempt to accomplish different aims. The first account, 1:1–2:3, is an artistic, poetic, symmetrical, and “heavenly” view of creation by a transcendent God, who spoke creation into being. In the second account, 2:4–25, God is immanently involved with creation as he is present in a garden, breathes life into Adam’s nostrils, dialogues and problem-solves, fashions Eve from Adam’s side, and bestows warnings and commands. Both perspectives are foundational for providing an accurate view of God’s interaction with creation in the rest of Scripture.

As one progresses through chapters 1–11, the story quickly changes from what God has established as “very good” to discord, sin, and shame. Chapter 3 reflects the “fall” of humanity as Adam and Eve sin in eating from the forbidden tree in direct disobedience to God. The serpent shrewdly deceives the first couple, and thus all three incur God’s curses, which extend to unlimited generations. Sin that breaks the vertical relationship between God and humanity intrinsically leads to horizontal strife between humans. Sin and disunity on the earth only intensify as one moves from the murder story of Cain and Abel in chapter 4 to the flood in chapters 5–9. Violence, evil, and disorder have so pervaded the earth that God sends a deluge to wipe out all living things, save one righteous man and his family, along with an ark full of animals. God makes the first covenant recorded in the biblical narrative with Noah (6:18), promising to save him from the flood as he commands Noah to build an ark and gather food for survival. Noah fulfills all that God has commanded (6:22; 7:5), and God remembers his promise (8:1). This is the prototypical salvation story for the rest of Scripture.

Chapter 9 reflects a new start for humanity and all living things as the creation mandate to “be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it,” first introduced in 1:28, is restated along with the reminder that humankind is made in God’s image (1:27). Bearing the image involves new responsibilities and stipulations in the postdiluvian era (9:2–6). There will be enmity between humans and animals, animals are now appropriate food, and yet lifeblood will be specially revered. God still requires accountability for just and discriminate shedding of blood and orderly relationships, as he has proved in the deluge, but now he relinquishes this responsibility to humankind. In return, God promises never to destroy all flesh again, and he will set the rainbow in the sky as a personal reminder. Like the covenant with Noah in 6:18, the postdiluvian covenant involves humankind fulfilling commands (9:1–7) and God remembering his covenant (9:8–17), specially termed “everlasting” (9:16).

The primeval commentary on humankind’s unabating sinful condition (e.g., 6:5; 8:21) proves true as Noah becomes drunk and naked and his son Ham (father of Canaan) shames him by failing to conceal his father’s negligence. Instead of multiplying, filling, and subduing the earth as God has intended, humankind collaborates to make a name for itself by building a sort of stairway to heaven within a special city (11:4). God foils such haughty plans by scattering the people across the earth and confusing their language. Expressed in an orderly chiastic structure, the story of the tower of Babel demonstrates that God condescends (11:5) to set things straight with humanity.

Patriarchs (Gen. 12–50)

Although the primeval history is foundational for understanding the rest of the Bible, more space in Genesis is devoted to the patriarchal figures Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph. In general, the Abrahamic narrative spans chapters 12–25, the story of Isaac serves as a transition to the Jacob cycle of chapters 25–37, and the Joseph narrative finishes the book of Genesis in chapters 37–50.

The transition from the primeval history to the patriarchs (11:27–32) reveals how Abraham, the father of Israel, moves from the east and settles in Harran as the family ventures to settle in Canaan. In Harran, Abraham receives the call of God’s redemptive plan, which reverberates through Scripture. God will bless him with land, make him a great nation, grant him special favor, and use him as a conduit of blessings to the world (12:1–3). In 11:30 is the indication that the barrenness of Abraham’s wife (Sarah) relates to the essence of God’s magnificent promises. How one becomes great in name and number, secures enemy territory, and is to bless all peoples without a descendant becomes the compelling question of the Abrahamic narrative. The interchange between Abraham’s faith in God and his attempts to contrive covenant fulfillment colors the entire narrative leading up to chapter 22. It is there that Abraham’s faith is ultimately put to the test as God asks him to sacrifice the promised son, Isaac. Abraham passes God’s faith test, and a ram is provided to take Isaac’s place. This everlasting covenant that was previously sealed by the sign of circumcision is climactically procured for future generations through Abraham’s exemplary obedience (22:16–18; cf. 15:1–21; 17:1–27).

The patriarchal stories that follow show that the Abrahamic promises are renewed with subsequent generations (see 26:3–4; 28:13–14) and survive various threats to fulfillment. The story of Isaac serves mainly as a bridge to the Jacob cycle, as he exists primarily as a passive character in relation to Abraham and Jacob.

Deception, struggle, rivalry, and favoritism characterize the Jacob narrative, as first exemplified in the jostling of twin boys in Rebekah’s womb (25:22). Jacob supplants his twin brother, Esau, for the firstborn’s blessing and birthright. He flees to Paddan Aram (northern Mesopotamia), marries two sisters, takes their maidservants as concubines, and has eleven children, followed by a falling-out with his father-in-law. Jacob’s struggle for God’s blessing that began with Esau comes to a head in his wrestling encounter with God at Peniel. Ultimately, Jacob emerges victorious and receives God’s blessing and a name change, “Israel” (“one who struggles with God”). Throughout the Jacob story, God demonstrates his faithfulness to the Abrahamic covenant and reiterates the promises to Jacob, most notably at Bethel (chaps. 28; 35). The interpersonal strife of Jacob’s life is thus enveloped within a message of reconciliation not just with Esau (chap. 33) but ultimately with God. The reader learns from the episodes in Jacob’s life that although God works through the lives of weak and failing people, his promises for Israel remain secure.

Although Jacob and his family are already living in Canaan, God intends for them to move to Egypt and grow into a powerful nation before fulfilling their conquest of the promised land (see 15:13–16). The story of Joseph explains how the family ends up in Egypt at the close of Genesis. Joseph is specially loved by his father, which elicits significant jealousy from his brothers, who sell him off to some nomads and fabricate the alibi that he has been killed by a wild beast. Joseph winds up in Pharaoh’s household and eventually becomes his top official. When famine strikes Canaan years later, Joseph’s brothers go to Egypt to purchase food from the royal court, and Joseph reveals his identity to them in an emotional reunion. Jacob’s entire family moves to Egypt to live for a time in prosperity under Joseph’s care. The Joseph story illustrates the mysterious relationship of human decision and divine sovereignty (50:20).

Liberation from Egypt (Exod. 1–18)

Genesis shows how Abraham develops into a large family. Exodus shows how this family becomes a nation—enslaved, freed, and then taught the ways of God. Although it appears that Exodus continues a riveting story of God’s chosen people, it is actually the identity and power of God that take center stage.

Many years have passed since Joseph’s family arrived in Egypt. The Hebrews’ good standing in Egypt has also diminished as their multiplication and fruitfulness during the intervening period—just as God had promised Abraham (Gen. 17:4–8)—became a national threat to the Egyptians. Abraham’s family will spend time in Egyptian slavery before being liberated with many possessions in hand (cf. Gen. 15:13–14).

In the book of Exodus the drama of suffering and salvation serves as the vehicle for God’s self-disclosure to a single man, Moses. Moses is an Israelite of destiny even from birth, as he providentially avoids infant death and rises to power and influence in Pharaoh’s household. Moses never loses his passion for his own people, and he kills an Egyptian who was beating a fellow Hebrew. Moses flees to obscurity in the desert, where he meets God and his call to lead his people out of Egypt and to the promised land (3:7–8; 6:8). Like the days of Noah’s salvation, God has remembered his covenant with the patriarchs and responded to the groans of his people in Egypt (2:24; 6:4–5; cf. Gen. 8:1). God reveals himself, and his personal name “Yahweh” (“I am”), to Moses in the great theophany of the burning bush at Mount Horeb (Sinai), the same place where later he will receive God’s law. Moses doubts his own ability to carry out the task of confronting Pharaoh and leading the exodus, but God foretells that many amazing signs and wonders not only will make the escape possible but also will ultimately reveal the mighty nature of God to the Hebrews, Egypt, and presumably the world (6:7; 7:5).

This promise of creating a nation of his people through deliverance is succinctly conveyed in the classic covenant formula that finds significance in the rest of the OT: “I will take you as my own people, and I will be your God” (6:7). Wielding great power over nature and at times even human decision, God “hardens” Pharaoh’s heart and sends ten plagues to demonstrate his favor for his own people and wrath against their enemy nation. The tenth plague on the firstborn of all in Egypt provides the context for the Passover as God spares the firstborn of Israel in response to the placement of sacrificial blood on the doorposts of their homes. Pharaoh persists in the attempt to overtake the Israelites in the desert, where the power of God climaxes in parting the Red Sea (or Sea of Reeds). The Israelites successfully pass through, but the Egyptian army drowns in pursuit. This is the great salvation event of the OT.

The song of praise for God’s deliverance (15:1–21) quickly turns to cries of groaning in the seventy days following the exodus as the people of the nation, grumbling about their circumstances in the desert, quickly demonstrate their fleeting trust in the one who has saved them (Exod. 15:22–18:27). When a shortage of water and food confronts the people, their faith in God’s care proves shallow, and they turn on Moses. Even though the special marks of God’s protection have been evident in the wilderness through the pillars of cloud and fire, the angel of God, the provision of manna and quail, water from the rock, and the leadership of Moses, the nation continually fails God’s tests of trust and obedience (16:4; cf. 17:2; 20:20). Yet God continues to endure with his people through the leadership of Moses.

Sinai (Exod. 19:1–Num. 10:10)

Most of the pentateuchal narrative takes place at Mount Sinai. It is there that Israel receives national legislation and prescriptions for the tabernacle, the priesthood, feasts and festivals, and other covenantal demands for living as God’s chosen people. The eleven-month stay at Sinai takes the biblical reader through the center of the Pentateuch, covering approximately the last half of Exodus, all of Leviticus, and the first third of Numbers, before the nation leaves this sacred site and sojourns in the wilderness. Several key sections of the Pentateuch fall within the Sinai story: the Decalogue (Exod. 20:1–17), the Book of the Covenant (Exod. 20:22–23:33), the tabernacle prescriptions (Exod. 25–31), the tabernacle construction (Exod. 35–40), the manual on ritual worship (Lev. 1–7), and the Holiness Code (Lev. 17–27).

The events and instruction at Sinai are central to the Israelite religious experience and reflect the third eternal covenant that God establishes in the Pentateuch—this time with Israel, whereby the Sabbath is the sign (Exod. 31:16; cf. Noahic/rainbow covenant [Gen. 9:16] and the Abrahamic/circumcision covenant [Gen. 17:7, 13, 19]). The offices of prophet and priest develop into clear view in this portion of the Pentateuch. Moses exemplifies the dual prophetic function of representing the people when speaking with God and, in turn, God when speaking to the people. The priesthood is bestowed upon Aaron and his descendants in Exodus and inaugurated within one of the few narrative sections of Leviticus (Lev. 8–10). The giving of the law, the ark, the tabernacle, the priesthood, and the Sabbath are all a part of God’s making himself “known” to Israel and the world, which is a constant theme in Exodus (see, e.g., 25:22; 29:43, 46; 31:13).

The Israelites’ stay at Sinai opens with one of the greatest theophanies of the Bible: God speaks aloud to the people (Exod. 19–20) and then is envisioned as a consuming fire (Exod. 24). After communicating the Ten Commandments (“ten words”) directly to the people (Exod. 34:28; Deut. 4:13; 10:4), Moses mediates the rest of the detailed obligations that will govern the future life of the nation. The covenant is ratified in ceremonial fashion (Exod. 24), and the Israelites vow to fulfill all that has been spoken. God expects Israel to be a holy nation (Exod. 19:6) with whom he may dwell, but Moses descends Sinai only to find that the Israelites have already violated the essence of the Decalogue by fashioning a golden calf to worship as that which delivered them from Egypt (Exod. 32). This places Israel’s future and calling in jeopardy, but Moses intercedes for his people, and God graciously promises to preserve the nation and abide with it in his mercy, even while punishing the guilty. This becomes prototypical of God’s relationship with his people in the future (Exod. 34:6–7).

Exodus ends with the consecration of the tabernacle and the descent of God’s presence there. With the tent of worship in order, the priesthood and its rituals can be officially established. Leviticus reflects divine instructions for how a sinful people may live safely in close proximity to God. Holy living involves dealing with sin and minimizing the need for atonement, purification, and restitution. The sacrificial and worship system established in Leviticus is based on a worldview of order, perfection, and purity, which should characterize a people who are commanded, “Be holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy’ (Lev. 19:2; cf. 11:44–45; 20:26). With these rules in place, the Israelites can make final preparations to depart Sinai and move forward on their journey. Numbers 1–10 spans a nineteen-day period of such activities as the Israelites begin to focus on dispossessing their enemies. These chapters reflect a census of fighting men, the priority of purity, the dedication of the tabernacle, and the observance of the Passover before commencing the quest to Canaan.

Wilderness Journey (Num. 10:11–36:13)

The rest of the book of Numbers covers the remainder of a forty-year stretch of great peaks and valleys in the faith and future of the nation. Chapters 11–25 recount the various events that show the exodus generation’s lack of trust in God. Chapters 26–36 reveal a more positive section whereby a new generation prepares for the conquest. With the third section of Numbers framed by episodes involving the inheritance rights of Zelophehad’s daughters (27:1–11; 36:1–13), it is clear that the story has turned to the future possession of the land.

After the departure from Sinai, the narrative consists of a number of Israelite complaints in the desert. The Israelites have grown tired of manna and ironically crave the food of Egypt, which they recall as free fish, fruits, and vegetables. Having forgotten the hardship of life in slavery, about which they had cried out to God, now the nation is crying out for a lifestyle of old. Moses becomes so overwhelmed with the complaints of the people that God provides seventy elders, who, to help shoulder the leadership burden, will receive the same prophetic spirit given to Moses.

In chapters 13–14 twelve spies are sent out from Kadesh Barnea to peruse Canaan, but the people’s lack of faith to procure the land from the mighty people there proves costly. This final example of distrust moves God to punish and purify the nation. The unbelieving generation will die in the wilderness during a forty-year period of wandering.

The discontent in the desert involves not only food and water but also leadership status. Moses’ own brother and sister resent his special relationship with God and challenge his exclusive authority. Later, Aaron’s special high priesthood is threatened as another Levitical family (Korah) vies for preeminence. Through a sequence of signs and wonders, God makes it clear that Moses and Aaron have exclusive roles in God’s economy. Due to the deaths related to Korah’s rebellion and the fruitless staffs that represent the tribes of Israel, the nation’s concern about sudden extinction in the presence of a holy God is appeased through the eternal covenant of priesthood granted to Aaron’s family (chap. 18). He and the Levites, at the potential expense of their own lives and as part of their priestly service, will be held accountable for keeping the tabernacle pure of encroachers.

Even after the people’s significant rebellion and punishment, God continues to prove his faithfulness to his word. Hope is restored for the nation as the Abrahamic promises of blessing are rehearsed from the mouth of Balaam, a Mesopotamian seer. The Israelites will indeed one day be numerous (23:10), enjoy the presence of God (23:21), be blessed and protected (24:9), and have a kingly leader (24:17). This wonderful mountaintop experience of hope for the exodus generation is tragically countered by an even greater event of apostasy in the subsequent scene. Reminiscent of the incident of the golden calf, when pagan revelry in the camp had foiled Moses’ interaction with God on Sinai, apostasy at the tabernacle undermines Balaam’s oracles of covenant fulfillment. Fornication with Moabite women not only joins the nation to a foreign god but also betrays God’s holiness at his place of dwelling. If not for the zeal of Aaron’s grandson Phinehas, who puts an end to the sin, the ensuing plague could have finished the nation. For his righteous action, Phinehas is awarded an eternal priesthood and ensures a future for the nation and Aaron’s priestly lineage.

In chapter 26 a second census of fighting men indicates that the old, unbelieving exodus generation has officially died off (except for Joshua and Caleb), and God is proceeding with a new people. God dispossesses the enemies of the new generation; reinstates the tribal boundaries of the land; reinstates rules concerning worship, service, and bloodshed; and places Joshua at the helm of leadership. Chapters 26–36 mention no deaths or rebellions as the nation optimistically ends its journey in Moab, just east of the promised land.

Moses’ Farewell (Deuteronomy)

Although one could reasonably move into the historical books at the end of Numbers, much would be lost in overstepping Deuteronomy. Deuteronomy presents Moses’ farewell speeches as his final words to a nation on the verge of Caanan. Moses’ speeches are best viewed as sermons motivating his people to embrace the Sinai covenant, love their God, and choose life over death and blessings over cursings (30:19). Moses reviews the desert experience since Mount Horeb/Sinai (chaps. 1–4) and recapitulates God’s expectations for lawful living in the land (chaps. 5–26). The covenant code is recorded on a scroll, is designated the “Book of the Law” (31:24–26), and is to be read and revered by the future king. Finally, Moses leads the nation in covenant renewal (chaps. 29–32) before the book finishes with an account of his death (chaps. 33–34), including tributes such as “since then, no prophet has risen in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face” (34:10).

Deuteronomy reflects that true covenant faithfulness is achieved from a right heart for God. If there were any previous doubts about the essence of covenant keeping, Moses eliminates such in Deuteronomy with the frequent use of emotive terms. Loving God involves committing to him alone and spurning idols and foreign gods. The Ten Commandments (chap. 5) are not a list of stale requirements; they reflect the great Shema with the words “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts” (6:5–6). God desires an unrivaled love from the nation, not cold and superficial religiosity.

Obedience by the Israelites will incur material and spiritual blessing, whereas disobedience ends in the loss of both. Although Moses strongly commends covenant obedience, and the nation participates in a covenant-renewal ceremony (chap. 27), it is clear that in the future the Israelites will fail to uphold their covenant obligations and will suffer the consequences (29:23; 30:1–4; 31:16–17). Yet Moses looks to a day when the command for circumcised hearts (10:16) will be fulfilled by the power of God himself (30:6). In the future a new king will arise from the nation (17:14–20) as well as a prophet like Moses (18:15–22). Deuteronomy thus underscores the extent of God’s own devotion to his patriarchal promises despite the sinful nature of his people.

For much of the middle and end of the twentieth century, Deuteronomy has received a significant amount of attention for its apparent resemblance in structure and content to ancient Hittite and Assyrian treaties. Scholars debate the extent of similarity, but it is possible that Deuteronomy reflects a suzerain-vassal treaty form between Israel and God much like the common format between nations in the ancient Near East. Although comparative investigation of this type can be profitable for interpretation, it is prudent to be conservative when outlining direct parallels, since Deuteronomy is not a legal document but rather a dramatic narrative of God’s redemptive interaction with the world.

A strict division between fortresses and cities was not possible in much of the ancient world, since many major towns were surrounded with protective walls and fortifications. Royal figures, however, did have stand-alone fortresses built within some towns. In 2 Sam. 5:7–9 David captures Zion, a fortress-city, from the Jebusites (see also 1 Chron. 11:5–7). Solomon further enhances the defensive fortifications of Jerusalem (1 Kings 3:1; 2 Chron. 2:1), as do several kings who come after him (e.g., 1 Kings 15:18; 16:18; 18:3; 2 Kings 11:5; 2 Chron. 26:9, 15).

Royal residences, such as those of the pharaohs (Gen. 12:15) and of the kings of Babylon (2 Kings 20:18; Dan. 1:4), Tyre (2 Sam. 24:7), Samaria (2 Kings 15:25), and Persia (Esther 1:5; 5:1; 7:7–8), also served as castles. In Nehemiah’s time, Hananiah is made ruler of the palace fort in Jerusalem (Neh. 2:8; 7:2). Fortified towers also contributed to the defensive equipment of many ancient cities (Gen. 11:1–9; 35:21; Judg. 8:8–9, 17; 9:46, 49; Neh. 3:1; 12:39; Song 4:4; Luke 13:4).

In addition to palaces and fortified cities, numerous smaller castle-type structures are mentioned in the Bible. These forts, usually fairly small, were important for guarding trade routes and major entrance points into a kingdom, and they allowed a ruler to exercise control over a much larger region than would have been possible otherwise. Normally these structures were composed of stone, hardened mud-brick, or a combination of the two, and constituted a tightly packed arrangement of walls, gates, and guard towers. A system of fortresses existed throughout Israel in the time of the unified monarchy, such as those built by David throughout Aram (2 Sam. 8:6) and Edom (2 Sam. 8:14; 1 Chron. 18:13), and those built by Solomon (1 Kings 9:19). Later, Rehoboam expanded this network of forts, which included the strong fortress at Lachish, and further built up the defensive capabilities of many of the towns in Judah (2 Chron. 11:5–11). The later kings Jehoshaphat and Jotham continued this work of fortress building throughout Judah (2 Chron. 17:12; 27:4).

In the four centuries after the conquests of Alexander the Great, new fortresses were built throughout what would become the Roman Empire, including Herod the Great’s palace in Caesarea (Acts 23:35). The Antonia Fortress (see Acts 21:31–37; 22:24; 23:10, 16, 32) overlooked the temple area in Jerusalem and was the headquarters of the Roman army cohort stationed in the city. Herod’s palace on the western hill of Jerusalem may have been the headquarters of Roman governors of Judea, although the Antonia Fortress is also a possible location for this building (see Matt. 27:27; Mark 15:16; John 18:28, 33; 19:9).

The image of a fortress is often invoked in poetic contexts in the Bible to signify God’s unfailing protection (2 Sam. 22:2; Pss. 18:2; 31:2; 46:8; 62:2; 91:2; 144:2; Prov. 14:26; Isa. 25:4; Jer. 16:19). Prophetic denunciation of the fortresses of Israel’s enemies is common in the OT (Isa. 23:11, 13–14; Jer. 49:27; Dan. 11; Amos 1). The destruction of Israel’s own fortresses, especially Jerusalem, is also a common judgment motif in the prophets (Isa. 25:12; Jer. 6:5; 17:27; Hos. 8:14). See also Fort, Fortification.

There are several censuses in Scripture, and their concern is not simply to account for the number of people or the number of men available for military service; they also have a literary and theological function.

In the creation narrative in Gen. 1–11 the fulfillment of the creation mandate is accounted for through the genealogy of Adam (Gen. 5) and the genealogy of the sons of Noah (Gen. 9:18–19; 10:1–32), which serve as a type of census. The creation narrative has a universal scope; it attempts to account for the total human population on earth.

Census lists are given for the Abrahamic family (Abraham-Isaac-Jacob line) as it grows to become a nation in accordance with God’s promise to Abraham of a great nation and innumerable offspring (Gen. 12:1–3; 15:5). The total number of Jacob’s descendants who went to Egypt was seventy (Gen. 46:8–27; Exod. 1:1–4). This old generation of Israel passed, and a new generation was born that was fruitful, multiplied, and became exceedingly numerous (Exod. 1:6–7). The total number of men of at least twenty years of age who came out of Egypt was 603,550 (Num. 1:1–46; cf. Exod. 12:37–38), and of the new generation that stood on the verge of entering the Promised Land, 601,730 (Num. 26:1–51).

In the book of Numbers there are two census accounts (actually, military registrations). These are important to the structure and theme of the book. The theme of Numbers has to do with the judgment on the first generation (the object of the census in Num. 1) and the hope for the second generation, which will enter the Promised Land (the object of the second census).

David conducted a census to measure his military power, but this is condemned by God and regarded as satanic (2 Sam. 24:1–17; 1 Chron. 21:1–30). For the Chronicler, any attempt to account for the total number of Israelite men twenty years and older, similar to the census in the book of Numbers, is regarded as challenging God’s promise to make Israel as numerous as the stars (1 Chron. 29:23–26).

Ezra and Nehemiah contain census lists of the returnees from exile: under Zerubbabel, 42,360 men returned (Ezra 2:1–66; Neh. 7:4–73), and under Ezra, 1,496 men (Ezra 8:1–14).

In the NT, Jesus participates in the universal census that encompasses not only Israel but other nations as well—a census of the entire Roman world (Luke 2:1–7). The census motif reaches its fulfillment when a great multitude from every nation, tribe, people, and language will stand before the throne and in front of the Lamb, symbolized by the 144,000 from the twelve tribes of Israel, 12,000 from each tribe (Rev. 7:4–10).

Old Testament

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Middle Bronze Age – 2200 to 1550 BC (Patriarch)

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

Iron Age – 1200 to 586 BC (Judges monarchy)

The Iron Age is further subdivided as follows:

Iron Age – 1200 to 1000 BC (Judges)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hellenistic period – 330 to 63 BC (Intertestamental)

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

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

New Testament

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

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

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

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

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

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

The foundational story in all of the OT is the story of creation, found in Gen. 1–2. Throughout the history of interpretation there have been many approaches to understanding these chapters. In the modern world, discoveries from both science and archaeology have challenged some traditional convictions, and debates continue to rage. Still, what Gen. 1–2 communicates is generally clear: (1) it establishes Yahweh, the God of Israel, as the God by whose word all exists; (2) it presents for ancient readers a compelling argument for why they should worship Israel’s God and not other gods of the ancient world. On this second point, it must be remembered that Israel’s belief in one God flew in the face of contemporary religious notions, where each nation had a high god along with lesser gods. Hence, when reading Gen. 1–2, we must keep in mind its ancient polemical dimension rather than approaching it with modern expectations.

The differing perspectives of Genesis 1 and 2. Even a quick reading of Gen. 1–2 shows that the perspectives on creation in the two chapters are somewhat different. Genesis 1 is ordered famously as a seven-day process, whereby humanity is created as the pinnacle of God’s work on day six. On the seventh day, as is well known, God rested. Much has been made among some Christians about the need to read this chapter literally, but that no longer seems to be the dominant view. Much less is a scientific explanation winning the day (where the details of the text correspond to certain scientific models, which are themselves disputed). A commonly accepted understanding of these chapters among Christians goes by various names, and it attempts to account for the poetic structure of Gen. 1. In Gen. 1:2 we read that the earth was “formless and empty.” What follows is a description of God providing “form” in days one through three and then a corresponding filling of the “emptiness” in days four through six. Hence, in day one God separates light from darkness, and in day four he fills the void with the sun, the moon, and the stars. Day two yields the expanses between the waters and the sky, and day five fills the voids with water creatures and sky creatures. Day three yields the land and vegetation, and day six fills the void with land creatures, the crowning achievement being humanity.

Genesis 2 provides a different perspective on the events. It seems that humanity is created before there were any shrubs or plants. Apart from this difference in order, more important is the focus on Adam and Eve and their role in creation, as those called to work the land together. These two perspectives are not contradictory, since one can easily understand Gen. 2 as explicating Gen. 1:26–30. Modern scholarship has largely assigned these two versions to two different literary sources (see Documentary Hypothesis), a theory based not only on the different perspectives of the two stories but also on other differences, such as language and style. Regardless of the alleged origins of these stories, however, they are presented to us together in the OT. As a unit, along with what follows in Gen. 3–11, these early chapters in Genesis in some ways stand in stark contrast to creation stories of the ancient Mesopotamian world, while at the same time adopting many of the concepts and much of the language of those stories.

Modern and ancient questions. To enter into this discussion is to ask, “What are these opening chapters of Genesis trying to say? How did the Israelites hear the creation story in Genesis?” It sometimes is tempting to read the creation story and ask modern questions. For example, “How does the Genesis creation narrative conform to scientific knowledge?” Modern questions such as these are not, in and of themselves, out of bounds. In fact, they may be unavoidable to a certain degree. But we must remember that ancient Israelites did not ask such questions. In the ancient Near East described in Genesis, which is thousands of years old, there was no science in any sense close to the way we think of it today.

The creation story was written not to answer modern questions but rather to address Israel’s questions. Beginning about the middle of the nineteenth century and into the early twentieth century, archaeologists discovered a number of creation stories from different peoples of the ancient Near East that help put the biblical account in context. These accounts tell stories of creation in which a number of gods are responsible. In one prominent example from ancient Babylon, creation was a result of a bloody conflict among the gods. Genesis 1 shares some of the descriptions of one or more of these other accounts (e.g., light exists before the creation of the sun, the moon, and the stars).

The theology of creation. Where Gen. 1 stands out is in its insistence that Israel’s God alone created the world through his spoken word. The purpose of such a declaration is not to satisfy contemporary intellectual curiosities about the nature of matter or the first moments of the universe’s existence. Its purpose is to declare to the Israelites that their God, not the gods of the ancient world, is responsible for everything there is, and that he alone is the one, therefore, who is worthy of their worship. The creation story is not an intellectual exercise but rather a deeply religious one. The Israelites lived in a world where every surrounding nation had a plurality of gods (pantheon). The Israelites were different. They had one God, and this is the message that rings loud and clear from Gen. 1.

That Yahweh, Israel’s God, is alone the creator is not an abstract theological statement. It is a call to worship. This is why, for example, numerous passages in the OT burst out in praise of Yahweh the creator. One example is Ps. 19. God’s glory is so great and so apparent that even creation itself is said to speak of it. The psalm uses specific Genesis language: the “heavens” and the “firmament” proclaim what God has done (these words occur in Gen. 1:1, 6–8, and the Hebrew words in Gen. 1 and Ps. 19 are the same). Even though the heavens and the firmament have no powers of speech, as the psalm tells us (19:3–4), nevertheless they are “heard” throughout the world because of the awesomeness of the sun’s circuit (19:5–6). The message is this: if you want to see how great God is, look up.

But the psalm does not end there. David is not simply interested in a contemplative posture for his people. Six verses about creation are followed, somewhat abruptly, by eight verses about the law. Clearly, a connection between them is being established, and that connection seems to be fairly straightforward: knowing God as creator should have an effect on how you behave. The God who created the heavens is also the God who gave you the law, David seems to be saying. And as worthy as God is of praise for the creation (even the heavens and the firmament join in), so too is the law. It is to be desired more than gold or sweet honey (v. 10). Knowing God as creator has very practical implications.

Creation and re-creation. Another important recurrence of creation in the OT, which also has practical implications, concerns God’s saving activity. In brief, according to the OT (and the NT as well), when God saves his people, it is an act of “re-creation.” One can see this theme developed in numerous places. For example, God is Israel’s “maker” in texts such as Ps. 95:6; Hos. 8:14. These two texts are found in the context of God having delivered the Israelites from Egypt; their deliverance corresponds to their “creation” as God’s people. Similarly, Isa. 43:14–17 concerns Israel’s captivity in Babylon and what God will do to deliver his people. The prophecy describes their deliverance by using “exodus” language and in doing so refers to Yahweh as Israel’s “Creator” (v. 15).

This connection between creation and redemption (re-creation) is also well articulated in the NT. For example, the opening words of John’s Gospel echo the very first verses of the Bible: “in the beginning.” With the coming of Christ, there is a new beginning. His act of redemption is described as the act of a second or new Adam (Rom. 5:12–21; 1 Cor. 15:22). When one confesses faith in Christ, one is “born again” or “from above” (John 3:3, 7; see also John 1:13; 1 Pet. 1:3, 23). To be a Christian is to start over, to begin anew, or as Paul put it, “If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Cor. 5:17). And in Rev. 22:2 paradise is described as containing a “tree of life,” to which God’s people once again have access. At the end, in other words, it will be as it was in the beginning. In the coming of Christ we see a new creation. That new creation is inaugurated in his first coming, where the church, his redeemed people, by the power of the Spirit, live as newly created beings in a fallen world. At his second coming, this new creation will be complete, and all creation will be redeemed.

Geography

Whereas the principal direction in the modern world is north, in the ancient world different cultures used a variety of orientations as they sought to describe their relationship to their geographical environment. In Israel the primary direction was determined by the sunrise: east. This is reflected in Hebrew, where the main word used to refer to east as a direction was qedem, which could also be used to simply refer to that which was directly ahead or in front of the speaker (e.g., Ps. 139:5). Elsewhere, east is designated by the terms mizrakh (“rising” [Josh. 11:3]) or mizrakh hashamesh (“rising of the sun” [Num. 21:11]), both of which derive from the direction of sunrise. By way of contrast, in Egypt the primary direction was south, in alignment with the source of the Nile River.

The ancient world employed the same notion of four cardinal directions, which persists to the present, and the terminology related to these was influenced by the choice of primary direction. Thus, in Israel north is often designated by “left”; south could be designated by “right,” and west by “behind.” In addition, directions could be specified by reference to geographical features found in those directions. North could be specified by the word tsapon, which was derived from the name of a northern Syrian mountain (Zaphon); south by negeb, a name for the region south of Israel (Negev); and west by yam (“sea”), since the Mediterranean Sea lay to the west.

Symbolism

Aside from their purely geographical significance, the directions also came to bear figurative significance. Some caution is warranted in assigning symbolic significance to language, for there is danger of reading invalid meanings into texts. Furthermore, given the ambiguity inherent in the use of terms to refer to directions, which also have alternate significances, there is danger of assigning a symbolic meaning to the direction that actually resides in the alternate. So, for example, while yam (“sea”) carries significant symbolic overtones in the Bible, this association does not appear to have been extended to encompass the term when used to designate a westerly direction.

East and west. Nonetheless, there is, for example, probably some significance in the expulsion from Eden and progressive movement eastward to the tower of Babel through Gen. 1–11, followed by a return to the promised land, which was approached by reversing the easterly migration and returning toward Eden. Eden itself was said to lie “in the east” (Heb. miqqedem; Gen. 2:8), although the same Hebrew expression in Pss. 74:12; 77:5, 11; 78:2; 143:5 means “in ancient times,” and there is perhaps a deliberate ambiguity in the use of the expression in Gen. 2:8. In Isa. 2:6 the east is the source of influences on the people that lead them astray. Following the exile, Ezekiel sees the glory of God returning to the temple from the east (Ezek. 43:1–2). Thus, when used symbolically, “east” is often viewed negatively or else may be used to mark a connection with distant antiquity (Gen. 2:8; Job 1:3). Any symbolic significance assigned to west appears primarily to be associated with it being the antithesis of east. The distance between east and west was used poetically to express vast distance (Ps. 103:12).

North and south. North is significant for two primary reasons. First, it is the direction from which invading armies most often descended upon Israel (Jer. 1:13) as well as from which Babylon’s destruction is said to come (Jer. 50:3). In light of this, Ezekiel’s vision of God approaching from the north strikes an ominous tone of impending judgment (Ezek. 1:1–4). Second, in Canaanite mythology the abode of the gods, and specifically Baal, lay to the north, on Mount Zaphon. Thus, the king of Babylon’s plans in Isa. 14:13 amount to a claim to establish himself as one of the gods. In contrast to this, Ps. 48:2 pre-sents Mount Zion as supplanting Mount Zaphon and thus implicitly presents Israel’s one God as supplanting the Canaanite pantheon.

As with west, there is little symbolic significance associated with the direction south in the Bible, aside from its use in combination with other directions.

The four directions. The four directions (or sometimes just pairs of directions) are used together to describe both the scattering of the Israelites as well as their being gathered by God back to the promised land (Ps. 107:3; Isa. 43:5–6; Luke 13:29). They are also used together to express the extent of the promised land (Gen. 13:14) or else to describe something that is all-encompassing (1 Chron. 9:24).

The names of God given in the Bible are an important means of revelation about his character and works. The names come from three sources: God himself, those who encounter him in the biblical record, and the biblical writers. This article is concerned mainly with the names that occur in the OT, though the NT will be referenced when helpful.

In the Bible the meaning of names is often significant and points to the character of the person so named. As might be expected, this is especially true for God. The names that he gives to himself always are a form of revelation; the names that humans give to God often are a form of testimony.

Yahweh: The Lord

Pronunciation. Unquestionably, for OT revelation the most important name is “(the) Lord.” In English Bibles this represents the name declared by God to Moses at the burning bush (“I am who I am” [Exod. 3:13–15]) and the related term used elsewhere in the OT; in Hebrew this term consists of the four consonants YHWH and is therefore known as the Tetragrammaton (“four letters”). Hebrew does not count vowels as part of its alphabet; in biblical times one simply wrote the consonants of a word and the reader supplied the correct vowels by knowing the vocabulary, grammar, and context. However, to avoid violating the commandment in the Decalogue that prohibits the misuse of God’s name (Exod. 20:7; Deut. 5:11), the Jews stopped pronouncing it. Consequently, no one today knows its correct original pronunciation, but the best evidence available suggests “Yahweh,” which has become the conventional pronunciation (consider the Hebrew word “hallelujah,” which actually is “hallelu-Yah,” hence “praise the Lord”). In ancient Jewish tradition, “Adonai” (“my Lord”) was substituted for “Yahweh.” In fact, when Hebrew eventually developed a vowel notation system, instead of the vowels for “Yahweh,” the vowels for “Adonai” were indicated whenever YHWH appeared in the biblical text, as a reminder. Combining the consonants YHWH with the vowels of “Adonai” yields something like “Yehowah,” which is the origin of the familiar (but mistaken and nonexistent) “Jehovah.” English Bibles typically use “Lord” (small capital letters) for “Yahweh,” and “Lord” (regular letters) for “Adonai,” which distinguishes the two.

Meaning. More vital than the matter of the pronunciation of YHWH is the question of its meaning. There seem to be two main opinions. One sees YHWH as denoting eternal self-existence, partly because it is suggested by the grammar of Exod. 3:14 (the words “I am” use a form of the Hebrew verb that suggests being without beginning or end) and partly because that is the meaning Jesus apparently ascribes to it in John 8:58. The other opinion, suggested by usage, is that YHWH indicates dynamic, active, divine presence: God’s being present in a special way to act on someone’s behalf (e.g., Gen. 26:28; 39:2–3; Josh. 6:27; 1 Sam. 18:12–14). This idea also appears in the episode of the burning bush (Exod. 3:12): when Moses protests his inadequacy to confront Pharaoh, God assures him of his presence, a reality noted with other prophets (1 Sam. 3:19; Jer. 1:8).

Perhaps the best points of reference for understanding the meaning of YHWH are God’s own proclamations. In addition to Exod. 3:13–15, at least two other passages in Exodus give God’s commentary (as it were) about the meaning of his name. An important one is Exod. 34:5–7. A key passage in the theology proper of ancient Israel, its themes echo in later OT Scripture (Num. 14:18–19; Ps. 103:7–12; Jon. 4:2). What is noteworthy about the texts cited is that all of them say something remarkable about the grace of God. This fits, for the revelation of Exod. 34:5–7 is given in the context of covenant renewal after the incident of the golden calf. Moses invokes God’s name in the Numbers text to avoid catastrophic judgment when the Israelites refuse to enter the promised land. The psalm text picks up this theme and connects it with God’s revelation of his ways to the chosen people. Jonah, remarkably, affirms that the same grace extends even toward a wicked Gentile city such as Nineveh.

Another such passage is Exod. 6:2–8. Here God reaffirms his redemptive purpose for captive Israel, despite the fact that Moses’ first encounter with Pharaoh has not gone well. God assures the prophet that he has remembered his covenant with the patriarchs, whom he says did not know him as “Yahweh,” which probably means that the patriarchs did not experience him in the way or character that their descendants would in the exodus event (though it is possible to translate the Hebrew here as a rhetorical question with an affirmative idea: “And indeed, by my name Yahweh did I not make myself known to them?”). God then proceeds to outline the redemptive experience in its fullness: deliverance from bondage, reception into a covenant relationship, and possession of the land promised to their ancestors (vv. 6–8). The statement is bracketed with this declaration: “I am the Lord” (vv. 2, 8). One stated purpose of this redemptive work is that Israel might come to understand this (v. 7). This is important to note because a central theme of Exodus as a book is the identity of the God of Israel. This concern prompts Moses to ask for God’s name at the burning bush (3:13), and this contempt for the God of the enslaved Hebrews causes Pharaoh to be dismissive at his first meeting with Moses and Aaron (5:2). Moses asks with the concern of a seeker and receives one of the most profound declarations of God’s identity in the Bible. Pharaoh asks with the contempt of a scorner and receives one of the most powerful displays of God’s identity in the Bible (the plagues). The contrast is both striking and instructive. The meaning of God’s name, then, is revealed in works as well as words, and his purpose is that not just his people but all peoples may come to understand who he is. Yet another majestic statement in the book of Exodus (9:13–16) makes this abundantly clear.

Based on this pattern of usage, the name “Yahweh” seems to signify especially the active presence of God to bless, deliver, or otherwise aid his people. Where this presence is absent, there is no success, victory, protection, or peace (Num. 14:39–45; Josh. 7:10–12; Judg. 16:20; 1 Sam. 16:13–14). The message that God not only is but also is present to save and deliver may well be the most important truth communicated in the OT, and it is only natural to see its ultimate embodiment in the person and work of Christ (Isa. 7:14; cf. Matt. 1:21–23).

Name used in combination. The name “Yahweh” also is used in combination with other terms. After God grants a military victory to Israel over the Amalekites, Moses names a commemorative altar “Yahweh Nissi,” meaning “the Lord is my Banner” (Exod. 17:15). In Ezekiel’s temple vision Jerusalem is called “Yahweh Shammah,” meaning “the Lord is there” (Ezek. 48:35). A familiar expression is “the Lord of hosts,” which is generally comparable to the expression “commander in chief” used in American culture (cf. 1 Kings 22:19–23).

Elohim

This is the first term for God encountered in the Bible, right in the opening verse. It is a more generic term, denoting deity in contrast to humans or angels. “Elohim” is a plural form; the singular terms “El” and “Eloah” are used occasionally, particularly in poetic texts. “El” is a common term in the biblical world; in fact, it is the name for the father of Baal in the Canaanite religion. This may explain why the Bible commonly uses the plural form, to distinguish the one true God, the God of Israel, from his pagan rivals. Others explain the plural form as a “plural of majesty” or “plural of intensity,” though it is uncertain just what this would mean. Some see the foundation for NT revelation of the Trinity (Gen. 1:26–27; 11:6–7; cf. John 17:20–22), but this is unlikely. The plural form also can serve simply as a common noun, referring to pagan deities (Exod. 12:12), angels (Ps. 97:7, arguably), or even human authorities (Exod. 22:28, possibly).

“El” also occurs in combination with other descriptive terms. The best known is “El Shaddai,” meaning “God Almighty” (Gen. 17:1). The precise meaning of “Shaddai” is uncertain, but it seems to have the notion of “great/powerful one.” The distressed Hagar, caught, comforted, and counseled by the mysterious personage at a well, calls God “El Roi,” which means “the God who sees me” (Gen. 16:13). One of the most exalted expressions to describe God is “El Elyon,” meaning “God Most High.” This title seems to have particular reference to God as the owner and master of creation (Gen. 14:18–20).

Adonai

As noted above, this common word meaning simply “(my) lord/master” is used regularly in place of the personal name of God revealed to Moses in Exod. 3:14. And in the OT of most English Bibles this is indicated by printing “Lord” as opposed to “Lord” (using small capital letters). However, “Adonai” is used of God in some noteworthy instances, such as Isaiah’s lofty vision of God exalted in Isa. 6 and the prophecy of Immanuel in Isa. 7:14. In time, this became the preferred term for referring to God, and the LXX reflected this by using the Greek word kyrios (“lord”) for Yahweh. This makes the ease with which NT writers transfer the use of the term to Jesus (e.g., 1 Cor. 12:3) a strong indication of their Christology.

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.

A biblical genealogy is a listing of names showing the interrelationships of individuals, clans, or nations. They are found mainly, though not exclusively, in the Pentateuch, Ezra-Nehemiah, and Chronicles. The arrangement of names in such listings is most often forward in time, from ancestor to descendant (e.g., Ruth 4:18–22, tracing a family line down to David), and this is the genealogy proper. At other times, names are listed in the opposite direction, backward in time, from the individual to ancestor (e.g., Ezra 7:1–5, where Ezra’s ancestry is traced back to Aaron “the chief priest”), and this is, strictly speaking, a pedigree. The unusually lengthy pedigree (even by biblical standards) of Ezra “the priest” is an effective way to highlight his temple interest when he is first introduced to the reader. The pedigree of 1 Chron. 6:33–47 shows the impeccable Levitical credentials of Heman, Asaph, and Ethan, who served before the ark of the covenant under the leadership of David. Genealogical information is always supplied for a reason.

Types of Genealogies

The two main terms used in the OT are toledot (“genealogical history”; e.g., Gen. 2:4; 5:1; 6:9; NIV: “account”) and yakhas (“genealogical record”; only in Neh. 7:5, but the related verb, “to register by genealogy,” occurs in Ezra 2 // Neh. 7 and elsewhere). In Ezra-Nehemiah the supplying of a credible genealogy is necessary for acceptance as an Israelite (Ezra 2:59–60) or for securing priestly privileges (Ezra 2:61–63). The concern is not racial purity as such, but rather Israel’s theological integrity (Ezra 9:1–2). The pejorative references to “genealogies” in 1 Tim. 1:4 and Titus 3:9 do not condemn the OT lists but instead reject the concocted genealogies in the mythic speculations of Jewish intertestamental books such as Jubilees.

Lineage is almost invariably traced through the male line. Most often in biblical narrative an individual is supplied only with a patronym (e.g., “Isaiah son of Amoz” [Isa. 1:1]), or sometimes three generations are specified (e.g., “Bezalel son of Uri, the son of Hur” [Exod. 35:30]). In Exod. 6:16–20 the foreshortened genealogy of Aaron and Moses is not to be understood as saying that there were only four generations between them and Levi.

Some genealogies involve ethnic and geographical relations—for example, between the nations of the ancient world in Gen. 11, and between Israel and surrounding peoples in Gen. 19:37–38; 25:1–4. In lists, the father-son relation can be broader than immediate descent and may refer to remote ancestors (grandson, great-grandson, etc.) (e.g., Ezra 5:1; cf. Zech. 1:1).

The Importance of Genealogies

Genealogies are an important feature of biblical storytelling. The modern reader should not simply leap over them, and the works of J. R. R. Tolkien show that genealogy is not dead in literary terms. When a biblical genealogy is supplied, it has a narratorial role. It contributes something essential to the presentation of the biblical writer. For example, 1 Chron. 1 is not a bare listing of names but rather, beginning with Adam, provides a world context for the history of Israel that follows; and 1 Chron. 2–9 emphasizes the twelve-tribal structure of God’s people, thus preventing the misapprehension that Chronicles is just a history of the southern kingdom of Judah. Also, lists are usually not just names; they include thematically significant material contributing to the overall message of the particular book—for example, the technological advances of Cain’s descendants told in Gen. 4:17–22 and the military exploits recounted in 1 Chron. 5:18–22.

The ten-generation genealogy of Gen. 5 bridges the antediluvian and the deluge eras. The repeated refrain “and he died” depicts the reign of death over the human race. Another ten-generation genealogy joins the flood generation to Abram (Gen. 11:10–26). In this case, the deleterious effect of sin on humans is shown by the gradual decrease in human life span. There is often an element of schema in biblical genealogies (e.g., the limitation of generations to ten). Genesis 5 displays the convention of the seventh generation, which is deemed worthy of special attention (Enoch). There is also the Bible’s delight in multiples of seven—for example, the seventy nations in Gen. 10, the 3 × 14 generational schema in Matt. 1, and the seventy members in the pedigree of Christ in Luke 3:23–38. Hence, none of these genealogies should be understood as comprehensive in scope; rather, they are highly selective and stylized. Their purpose is to support and underscore the writer’s theological message.

Because it is rare for females to be mentioned in biblical genealogies, when they are there is special significance—for example, Sarai in Gen. 11:29: though barren, she will become the mother of the line of promise; Rebekah in Gen. 22:23: she will become the wife of Isaac; the daughters of Zelophehad in Num. 26:33: their story will be elaborated in Num. 27; 36; the five women in the genealogy of Jesus (Matt. 1): several of them are non-Israelites, suggesting that Jesus comes as the Savior of the world.

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.”

God the Worker

A biblical theology of work starts with God as the creator of all things. In the OT, the verb bara’ (“to create”) is used only with God as subject. The first verb in the Bible (Gen. 1:1), it occurs also in many other texts that describe God accomplishing what only God can do. Other terms such as yatsar (“to form, fashion”) and ’asah (“to make, do”) are used numerous times throughout the OT with either God or humans as subjects.

These three terms reinforce the portrayal of God as worker in Gen. 1–2 (cf. Isa. 45:7). God creates light and darkness; sky and earth; sun, moon, and stars; land and sea; plant and animal life; and humankind—in sum, all that is. He forms the “man” (Heb. ’adam) from the dust of the ground, bringing him to life by breathing into him the breath of life.

Elsewhere in the OT God is said to build, build up, or rebuild/restore (Heb. banah [e.g., Pss. 102:16; 147:2; Jer. 24:6; Amos 9:11]). Interestingly, God takes a rib from the man, which he then makes (lit., “builds into” [Heb. banah + le]) a woman (Gen. 2:22). He founds (Heb. kun) the earth (Isa. 45:18) and stretches out (Heb. natah) the heavens (Zech. 12:1). Further, wisdom is God’s “craftsman” (Heb. ’amon), taking part in the world’s creation (Prov. 8:30). The NT reveals Christ as the one through whom God creates all things (John 1:1–3; Col. 1:16). This brief sketch suggests the range of ways in which God’s work is described.

Human Labor

Ideally, work is performed as service to God (Col. 3:17, 22–24). Work is one way we express the divine image. God’s creation mandate to fill, subdue, and rule the earth implies work (Gen. 1:26–28), and God places the man in the garden “to work it and take care of it” (Gen. 2:15). The importance of work for human dignity as well as survival undergirds the laws of gleaning that make provision for the poor to gather their own food (e.g., Deut. 24:19–22). The expansion of human technologies and occupations (mela’kah [see Exod. 12:16]) reflects that dignity and God’s own diverse workmanship. Job 28 celebrates human industry and achievement while subordinating all to the prevailing value of wisdom, rooted in “the fear of the Lord.” Given the indispensable role of work within the limits of human life, diligence is commended (Eccles. 3:9–10), idleness condemned (Prov. 10:4; 12:24; 21:5; 2 Thess. 3:6–10). Work is essentially God’s good gift to us in creation.

But work now has negative aspects. In response to Adam’s sin, God curses the ground, introducing “painful toil” into the work cycle (Gen. 3:17–19; 5:29). We now eke out our living by hardship, finding frustration instead of bounty—a lifelong reminder that we are made of dust and will return to dust. The book of Ecclesiastes echoes this note of futility and raises sharp questions about the lasting value of human labor (1:2–3, 14; 2:4–11, 17–23; 3:9; 4:4–6; 8:16–17). Sin and death haunt the unfolding occupations in Gen. 4, and the episode of the tower of Babel in Gen. 11 signals God’s judgment on human pretension (cf. James 4:13–16). Excessive toil (workaholism) is a pitfall, not a virtue, for it expresses reliance on self rather than on God, who builds, protects, and gives rest (Ps. 127:1–2). Oppressive, unjust working conditions are cause for lament, and they incur God’s judgment (Exod. 5:6–19; Prov. 14:31; James 5:4–6).

Thus, Israel’s labor policy is to reflect God’s covenant faithfulness, generosity, and concern for the vulnerable. Moses’ law places limits on employers/masters to protect employees, slaves, and foreign workers from exploitation. The primary limit is God’s command that Israel keep the Sabbath holy by a complete cessation of labor (Exod. 20:8–11; Deut. 5:12–15). This move prioritizes God’s covenant above human labor and sets a rhythm of work and rest. Exodus grounds the Sabbath in God’s rest from his work of creation on the seventh day. Deuteronomy ties it to Israel’s history of slavery in Egypt and deliverance by God; by keeping the Sabbath, Israel shows gratitude to God and guards against replicating Egypt’s oppressive policies.

Exodus 31–32 portrays work in its best and worst lights. The proper interplay of work and rest is seen in chapter 31, which narrates the divinely empowered work on the tabernacle, followed by a strong reminder to keep the Sabbath as a “sign” between God and Israel. In contrast, chapter 32 portrays artisanship put to the worst use, the making of a golden idol. Aaron fashions gold with a tool and makes the calf image, but later he tells Moses, “I threw [their gold jewelry] into the fire, and out came this calf!” (32:24). This remark anticipates the prophets’ later mockery of idol-makers (e.g., Isa. 44:9–20) and raises the issue of personal responsibility for the outcome of one’s labor: Aaron seeks to avoid being implicated in Israel’s idolatry by concealing his own role in the project.

Public labor issues increase in complexity when Israel adopts human kingship and engages in international trade (e.g., 1 Sam. 8; 1 Kings 9:15–23). Babylon deals a decisive blow to Judah’s statehood by deporting leaders and skilled workers. Many of these establish such viable, productive new lives in Babylon that when Cyrus later allows the exiled Judeans to return, they choose to remain.

The NT assumes the legitimacy of work and adopts the OT’s view that within proper limits work is a good gift of God. Jesus, however, has come to do his Father’s “work” (John 5:16–18), which entails calling some people away from their normal occupations to follow him, as well as a new approach to Sabbath observance (Mark 2:21–27; 3:4). These moves signal the urgency and newness of the kingdom of God. Consequently, the apostles are “co-workers in God’s service” (1 Cor. 3:9), and Christians are “God’s handiwork” (Eph. 2:10). In light of the resurrection, we offer to God work (Gk. ergon) and labor (Gk. kopos), not in futility but in hope (1 Cor. 15:58; cf. Rev. 14:13).

The names of God given in the Bible are an important means of revelation about his character and works. The names come from three sources: God himself, those who encounter him in the biblical record, and the biblical writers. This article is concerned mainly with the names that occur in the OT, though the NT will be referenced when helpful.

In the Bible the meaning of names is often significant and points to the character of the person so named. As might be expected, this is especially true for God. The names that he gives to himself always are a form of revelation; the names that humans give to God often are a form of testimony.

Yahweh: The Lord

Pronunciation. Unquestionably, for OT revelation the most important name is “(the) Lord.” In English Bibles this represents the name declared by God to Moses at the burning bush (“I am who I am” [Exod. 3:13–15]) and the related term used elsewhere in the OT; in Hebrew this term consists of the four consonants YHWH and is therefore known as the Tetragrammaton (“four letters”). Hebrew does not count vowels as part of its alphabet; in biblical times one simply wrote the consonants of a word and the reader supplied the correct vowels by knowing the vocabulary, grammar, and context. However, to avoid violating the commandment in the Decalogue that prohibits the misuse of God’s name (Exod. 20:7; Deut. 5:11), the Jews stopped pronouncing it. Consequently, no one today knows its correct original pronunciation, but the best evidence available suggests “Yahweh,” which has become the conventional pronunciation (consider the Hebrew word “hallelujah,” which actually is “hallelu-Yah,” hence “praise the Lord”). In ancient Jewish tradition, “Adonai” (“my Lord”) was substituted for “Yahweh.” In fact, when Hebrew eventually developed a vowel notation system, instead of the vowels for “Yahweh,” the vowels for “Adonai” were indicated whenever YHWH appeared in the biblical text, as a reminder. Combining the consonants YHWH with the vowels of “Adonai” yields something like “Yehowah,” which is the origin of the familiar (but mistaken and nonexistent) “Jehovah.” English Bibles typically use “Lord” (small capital letters) for “Yahweh,” and “Lord” (regular letters) for “Adonai,” which distinguishes the two.

Meaning. More vital than the matter of the pronunciation of YHWH is the question of its meaning. There seem to be two main opinions. One sees YHWH as denoting eternal self-existence, partly because it is suggested by the grammar of Exod. 3:14 (the words “I am” use a form of the Hebrew verb that suggests being without beginning or end) and partly because that is the meaning Jesus apparently ascribes to it in John 8:58. The other opinion, suggested by usage, is that YHWH indicates dynamic, active, divine presence: God’s being present in a special way to act on someone’s behalf (e.g., Gen. 26:28; 39:2–3; Josh. 6:27; 1 Sam. 18:12–14). This idea also appears in the episode of the burning bush (Exod. 3:12): when Moses protests his inadequacy to confront Pharaoh, God assures him of his presence, a reality noted with other prophets (1 Sam. 3:19; Jer. 1:8).

Perhaps the best points of reference for understanding the meaning of YHWH are God’s own proclamations. In addition to Exod. 3:13–15, at least two other passages in Exodus give God’s commentary (as it were) about the meaning of his name. An important one is Exod. 34:5–7. A key passage in the theology proper of ancient Israel, its themes echo in later OT Scripture (Num. 14:18–19; Ps. 103:7–12; Jon. 4:2). What is noteworthy about the texts cited is that all of them say something remarkable about the grace of God. This fits, for the revelation of Exod. 34:5–7 is given in the context of covenant renewal after the incident of the golden calf. Moses invokes God’s name in the Numbers text to avoid catastrophic judgment when the Israelites refuse to enter the promised land. The psalm text picks up this theme and connects it with God’s revelation of his ways to the chosen people. Jonah, remarkably, affirms that the same grace extends even toward a wicked Gentile city such as Nineveh.

Another such passage is Exod. 6:2–8. Here God reaffirms his redemptive purpose for captive Israel, despite the fact that Moses’ first encounter with Pharaoh has not gone well. God assures the prophet that he has remembered his covenant with the patriarchs, whom he says did not know him as “Yahweh,” which probably means that the patriarchs did not experience him in the way or character that their descendants would in the exodus event (though it is possible to translate the Hebrew here as a rhetorical question with an affirmative idea: “And indeed, by my name Yahweh did I not make myself known to them?”). God then proceeds to outline the redemptive experience in its fullness: deliverance from bondage, reception into a covenant relationship, and possession of the land promised to their ancestors (vv. 6–8). The statement is bracketed with this declaration: “I am the Lord” (vv. 2, 8). One stated purpose of this redemptive work is that Israel might come to understand this (v. 7). This is important to note because a central theme of Exodus as a book is the identity of the God of Israel. This concern prompts Moses to ask for God’s name at the burning bush (3:13), and this contempt for the God of the enslaved Hebrews causes Pharaoh to be dismissive at his first meeting with Moses and Aaron (5:2). Moses asks with the concern of a seeker and receives one of the most profound declarations of God’s identity in the Bible. Pharaoh asks with the contempt of a scorner and receives one of the most powerful displays of God’s identity in the Bible (the plagues). The contrast is both striking and instructive. The meaning of God’s name, then, is revealed in works as well as words, and his purpose is that not just his people but all peoples may come to understand who he is. Yet another majestic statement in the book of Exodus (9:13–16) makes this abundantly clear.

Based on this pattern of usage, the name “Yahweh” seems to signify especially the active presence of God to bless, deliver, or otherwise aid his people. Where this presence is absent, there is no success, victory, protection, or peace (Num. 14:39–45; Josh. 7:10–12; Judg. 16:20; 1 Sam. 16:13–14). The message that God not only is but also is present to save and deliver may well be the most important truth communicated in the OT, and it is only natural to see its ultimate embodiment in the person and work of Christ (Isa. 7:14; cf. Matt. 1:21–23).

Name used in combination. The name “Yahweh” also is used in combination with other terms. After God grants a military victory to Israel over the Amalekites, Moses names a commemorative altar “Yahweh Nissi,” meaning “the Lord is my Banner” (Exod. 17:15). In Ezekiel’s temple vision Jerusalem is called “Yahweh Shammah,” meaning “the Lord is there” (Ezek. 48:35). A familiar expression is “the Lord of hosts,” which is generally comparable to the expression “commander in chief” used in American culture (cf. 1 Kings 22:19–23).

Elohim

This is the first term for God encountered in the Bible, right in the opening verse. It is a more generic term, denoting deity in contrast to humans or angels. “Elohim” is a plural form; the singular terms “El” and “Eloah” are used occasionally, particularly in poetic texts. “El” is a common term in the biblical world; in fact, it is the name for the father of Baal in the Canaanite religion. This may explain why the Bible commonly uses the plural form, to distinguish the one true God, the God of Israel, from his pagan rivals. Others explain the plural form as a “plural of majesty” or “plural of intensity,” though it is uncertain just what this would mean. Some see the foundation for NT revelation of the Trinity (Gen. 1:26–27; 11:6–7; cf. John 17:20–22), but this is unlikely. The plural form also can serve simply as a common noun, referring to pagan deities (Exod. 12:12), angels (Ps. 97:7, arguably), or even human authorities (Exod. 22:28, possibly).

“El” also occurs in combination with other descriptive terms. The best known is “El Shaddai,” meaning “God Almighty” (Gen. 17:1). The precise meaning of “Shaddai” is uncertain, but it seems to have the notion of “great/powerful one.” The distressed Hagar, caught, comforted, and counseled by the mysterious personage at a well, calls God “El Roi,” which means “the God who sees me” (Gen. 16:13). One of the most exalted expressions to describe God is “El Elyon,” meaning “God Most High.” This title seems to have particular reference to God as the owner and master of creation (Gen. 14:18–20).

Adonai

As noted above, this common word meaning simply “(my) lord/master” is used regularly in place of the personal name of God revealed to Moses in Exod. 3:14. And in the OT of most English Bibles this is indicated by printing “Lord” as opposed to “Lord” (using small capital letters). However, “Adonai” is used of God in some noteworthy instances, such as Isaiah’s lofty vision of God exalted in Isa. 6 and the prophecy of Immanuel in Isa. 7:14. In time, this became the preferred term for referring to God, and the LXX reflected this by using the Greek word kyrios (“lord”) for Yahweh. This makes the ease with which NT writers transfer the use of the term to Jesus (e.g., 1 Cor. 12:3) a strong indication of their Christology.

Behind the English translation “mercy” lie diverse biblical words in Hebrew (khesed, khanan, rakham) and in Greek (charis, eleos, oiktirmos, splanchnon). These words are also translated as “love,” “compassion,” “grace,” “favor,” “kindness,” “loving-kindness,” and so on, depending on context. Hence, a conceptual approach to the meaning of “mercy” is best.

God’s Mercy

Mercy as part of God’s character. Mercy is a distinguishing characteristic of the nature of God. God is called “the Father of mercies” (2 Cor. 1:3 NRSV [NIV: “Father of compassion”]). God is “rich in mercy” (Eph. 2:4; cf. 2 Sam. 24:14; Dan. 9:9). God’s mercy was demonstrated in his covenantal faithfulness to his people (1 Kings 8:23–24; Mic. 7:18–20). God redeemed the oppressed Israelites from slavery under Pharaoh because of his mercy, which was stirred when he heard their groaning and cry for help. Here, the rekindling of God’s mercy toward the Israelites was depicted in terms of remembering his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (Exod. 2:23–25). Mercy is a manifestation of God’s faithfulness to his covenant. Hence, God’s mercy to his covenant people never ceases (Pss. 119:132; 103:17).

God has absolute sovereignty in electing the people to whom he wills to show mercy. A classic expression appears in Exod. 33:19: “I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion.” Paul quoted this to explain God’s sovereignty in electing Jacob as the recipient of God’s mercy (Rom. 9:13–15). God’s mercy cannot be acquired by human effort or desire (Rom. 9:16). God even ordered the Israelites to show no mercy to the Canaanites because of their corruption and idolatry (Deut. 7:2).

Diverse images are used to describe God’s mercy. God is compared to a loving father who has compassion on his children (Jer. 31:20; Mal. 3:17). “As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust” (Ps. 103:13–14). God’s compassion is also compared to that of a nursing mother who feeds her baby at her breast (Isa. 49:15). The images of the loving father and the loving mother reflect closely the heart of God’s mercy toward his chosen people. God is especially merciful to the needy, the weak, the afflicted, and the oppressed (Exod. 2:23–24; Ps. 123:2–3; Isa. 49:13; Heb. 4:16). God is called “a father to the fatherless” and “a defender of widows” (Ps. 68:5). Sinners appeal for God’s mercy when they request forgiveness (Ps. 51:1). “Have mercy on me” is a common form of expression when the psalmist entreats God for his forgiveness (Pss. 41:4, 10; 51:1). God’s mercy is also shown in his act of salvation and blessing (Exod. 15:13; Deut. 13:17–18; Judg. 2:18; Eph. 2:4–5).

God’s mercy in redemptive history. Redemptive history is a successive demonstration of God’s mercy toward his chosen people. It was because of God’s mercy that he took the initiative to save fallen human beings (Gen. 3:15). Death was the due penalty for Adam and Eve (Gen. 2:17), but God preached the good news of mercy that the descendant of the woman would someday crush the head of the serpent. In Rev. 20:2 that ancient serpent in the garden of Eden is identified as “the devil, or Satan,” whose head was crushed by Jesus Christ on the cross and is bound by the coming Messiah “for a thousand years” and will be “thrown into the lake of burning sulfur” (Rev. 20:2, 10). In spite of God’s judgment on Cain, the first murderer, God showed mercy by putting a mark on him so that no one would kill him (Gen. 4:15). As the psalmist later confesses, God proves himself as the merciful God who “does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities” (Ps. 103:10).

Noah and his family were saved from the judgment of the flood because of God’s special mercy toward them (Gen. 6:8). Immediately after God confused the languages of human beings because of their challenge to him (Gen. 11:1–9), God showed mercy on Abram, “a wandering Aramean” (Deut. 26:5), and designated him to be the father of his chosen people (Gen. 12:1–3). Jacob’s election originated solely from God’s mercy, as Paul pointed out by quoting Scripture: “Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated” (Rom. 9:13). The exodus is also the clearest evidence of God’s demonstration of mercy toward his chosen people (Exod. 2:23–25). They were saved not by their own righteousness but rather by God’s mercy on the covenant people, who suffered under the bondage of Pharaoh’s slavery. God’s mercy reached its climax when he sent his only Son, Jesus Christ, to save sinners (Rom. 5:8). It is because of God’s mercy that we are saved, not because of our righteousness (Titus 3:5).

Christ’s Mercy

Jesus Christ lived a life full of mercy. He is, in a sense, the bodily manifestation of God’s mercy. Jesus expressed deep mercy whenever he saw the sick and the lost. The writers of the Gospels describe Jesus’ demonstrations of mercy when he healed the blind, the lame, the deaf, the leprous, the demon-possessed, and the dead (Matt. 9:36; 14:14; 20:34; Mark 1:41; 5:19; 6:34; 8:2; Luke 7:13; John 11:33). Jesus especially had compassion on the crowds, who did not have a spiritual leader, and he compared them to “sheep without a shepherd” (Matt. 9:36).

Jesus’ ministry of healing and evangelism was motivated by his deep mercy and compassion toward people in physical and spiritual need (Luke 4:16–21; cf. Isa. 61:1–2). Whenever the sick appealed to his mercy, Jesus never refused to dispense it to them (Matt. 15:22; 17:14–18). For example, he healed the two blind men who entreated his mercy (Matt. 20:30–34). When a leper, kneeling before him, entreated his mercy, Jesus touched him (risking his own uncleanness according to the law) and healed him (Matt. 8:2–3). When a centurion asked for Jesus’ mercy on his sick servant, he was willing to go and heal the sick man (Matt. 8:5–13). Jesus’ mercy was aroused especially when he saw people crying for the dead, and even he shed tears (John 11:33–35). When Jesus saw a widow crying for her dead son during a funeral procession, he comforted and had compassion on her and made her son alive (Luke 7:12–15).

According to Heb. 2:17–18, Jesus became “a merciful and faithful high priest” to make atonement for the sins of his people. He is also compared to the high priest who is able to sympathize with our weaknesses because he “has been tempted in every way, just as we are” (Heb. 4:15). His high priestly work on earth was highlighted in terms of his ministry of mercy toward his people. Like God’s mercy, Jesus’ mercy was shown in his actions of salvation (Luke 19:10; Eph. 5:2; 1 Tim. 1:14–16; Titus 3:4–7), of blessing (Mark 10:13–16), and of forgiveness (Mark 2:10; Luke 23:34). Paul’s personal experience led him to confess, “He saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy” (Titus 3:5). Jesus’ character of mercy was most vividly manifested on the cross when he prayed for the forgiveness of the crucifying soldiers and the cursing crowds (Luke 23:33–37).

Human Response to God’s Mercy

What is the proper response to God’s mercy and compassion? God expects believers to show the same kind of mercy toward other people. One of the best examples is the parable of the unmerciful servant (Matt. 18:23–35). The central focus of this parable is on the unmerciful servant, to whom a tremendous mercy is shown by the king, but who refuses to show a little mercy to his fellow servant. The parable concludes with the king’s statement that no mercy will be shown to those who do not show mercy and forgiveness to others. Hence, a forgiving attitude is a must for believers, who have received immeasurable mercy from God when he forgave their sins at the time of repentance. The Lord’s Prayer also includes the believer’s forgiveness of others as being inseparably linked to the request for forgiveness from God (Matt. 6:12). Jesus affirms this idea in a subsequent statement: “For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins” (6:14–15).

Mercy is one of the eight blessings in the Beatitudes: “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy” (Matt. 5:7). Jesus’ response to the critical Pharisees reveals that our merciful life should precede our religious life (9:13). According to the parable of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37), the true neighbor is the one who shows mercy to the afflicted. Its conclusion, “Go and do likewise” (10:37), requires believers to show mercy to their suffering neighbors. At the last judgment the righteous are characterized by their lives of showing mercy to the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the unclothed, the sick, and the imprisoned (Matt. 25:37–40). In Luke 6:36, Jesus summarizes the law of mercy: “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.” According to James, “judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful”; however, “mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:12–13). And according to the prophets, a merciless life is characteristic of godless people (Isa. 13:18; Jer. 6:23; 21:7; 50:42; Amos 1:11–12).

It is by God’s mercy that believers can persevere during the time of suffering (2 Cor. 4:1). Their prayer is the channel through which they draw God’s mercy. Hence, the writer of Hebrews exhorts believers to “approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy” (Heb. 4:16).

The names of God given in the Bible are an important means of revelation about his character and works. The names come from three sources: God himself, those who encounter him in the biblical record, and the biblical writers. This article is concerned mainly with the names that occur in the OT, though the NT will be referenced when helpful.

In the Bible the meaning of names is often significant and points to the character of the person so named. As might be expected, this is especially true for God. The names that he gives to himself always are a form of revelation; the names that humans give to God often are a form of testimony.

Yahweh: The Lord

Pronunciation. Unquestionably, for OT revelation the most important name is “(the) Lord.” In English Bibles this represents the name declared by God to Moses at the burning bush (“I am who I am” [Exod. 3:13–15]) and the related term used elsewhere in the OT; in Hebrew this term consists of the four consonants YHWH and is therefore known as the Tetragrammaton (“four letters”). Hebrew does not count vowels as part of its alphabet; in biblical times one simply wrote the consonants of a word and the reader supplied the correct vowels by knowing the vocabulary, grammar, and context. However, to avoid violating the commandment in the Decalogue that prohibits the misuse of God’s name (Exod. 20:7; Deut. 5:11), the Jews stopped pronouncing it. Consequently, no one today knows its correct original pronunciation, but the best evidence available suggests “Yahweh,” which has become the conventional pronunciation (consider the Hebrew word “hallelujah,” which actually is “hallelu-Yah,” hence “praise the Lord”). In ancient Jewish tradition, “Adonai” (“my Lord”) was substituted for “Yahweh.” In fact, when Hebrew eventually developed a vowel notation system, instead of the vowels for “Yahweh,” the vowels for “Adonai” were indicated whenever YHWH appeared in the biblical text, as a reminder. Combining the consonants YHWH with the vowels of “Adonai” yields something like “Yehowah,” which is the origin of the familiar (but mistaken and nonexistent) “Jehovah.” English Bibles typically use “Lord” (small capital letters) for “Yahweh,” and “Lord” (regular letters) for “Adonai,” which distinguishes the two.

Meaning. More vital than the matter of the pronunciation of YHWH is the question of its meaning. There seem to be two main opinions. One sees YHWH as denoting eternal self-existence, partly because it is suggested by the grammar of Exod. 3:14 (the words “I am” use a form of the Hebrew verb that suggests being without beginning or end) and partly because that is the meaning Jesus apparently ascribes to it in John 8:58. The other opinion, suggested by usage, is that YHWH indicates dynamic, active, divine presence: God’s being present in a special way to act on someone’s behalf (e.g., Gen. 26:28; 39:2–3; Josh. 6:27; 1 Sam. 18:12–14). This idea also appears in the episode of the burning bush (Exod. 3:12): when Moses protests his inadequacy to confront Pharaoh, God assures him of his presence, a reality noted with other prophets (1 Sam. 3:19; Jer. 1:8).

Perhaps the best points of reference for understanding the meaning of YHWH are God’s own proclamations. In addition to Exod. 3:13–15, at least two other passages in Exodus give God’s commentary (as it were) about the meaning of his name. An important one is Exod. 34:5–7. A key passage in the theology proper of ancient Israel, its themes echo in later OT Scripture (Num. 14:18–19; Ps. 103:7–12; Jon. 4:2). What is noteworthy about the texts cited is that all of them say something remarkable about the grace of God. This fits, for the revelation of Exod. 34:5–7 is given in the context of covenant renewal after the incident of the golden calf. Moses invokes God’s name in the Numbers text to avoid catastrophic judgment when the Israelites refuse to enter the promised land. The psalm text picks up this theme and connects it with God’s revelation of his ways to the chosen people. Jonah, remarkably, affirms that the same grace extends even toward a wicked Gentile city such as Nineveh.

Another such passage is Exod. 6:2–8. Here God reaffirms his redemptive purpose for captive Israel, despite the fact that Moses’ first encounter with Pharaoh has not gone well. God assures the prophet that he has remembered his covenant with the patriarchs, whom he says did not know him as “Yahweh,” which probably means that the patriarchs did not experience him in the way or character that their descendants would in the exodus event (though it is possible to translate the Hebrew here as a rhetorical question with an affirmative idea: “And indeed, by my name Yahweh did I not make myself known to them?”). God then proceeds to outline the redemptive experience in its fullness: deliverance from bondage, reception into a covenant relationship, and possession of the land promised to their ancestors (vv. 6–8). The statement is bracketed with this declaration: “I am the Lord” (vv. 2, 8). One stated purpose of this redemptive work is that Israel might come to understand this (v. 7). This is important to note because a central theme of Exodus as a book is the identity of the God of Israel. This concern prompts Moses to ask for God’s name at the burning bush (3:13), and this contempt for the God of the enslaved Hebrews causes Pharaoh to be dismissive at his first meeting with Moses and Aaron (5:2). Moses asks with the concern of a seeker and receives one of the most profound declarations of God’s identity in the Bible. Pharaoh asks with the contempt of a scorner and receives one of the most powerful displays of God’s identity in the Bible (the plagues). The contrast is both striking and instructive. The meaning of God’s name, then, is revealed in works as well as words, and his purpose is that not just his people but all peoples may come to understand who he is. Yet another majestic statement in the book of Exodus (9:13–16) makes this abundantly clear.

Based on this pattern of usage, the name “Yahweh” seems to signify especially the active presence of God to bless, deliver, or otherwise aid his people. Where this presence is absent, there is no success, victory, protection, or peace (Num. 14:39–45; Josh. 7:10–12; Judg. 16:20; 1 Sam. 16:13–14). The message that God not only is but also is present to save and deliver may well be the most important truth communicated in the OT, and it is only natural to see its ultimate embodiment in the person and work of Christ (Isa. 7:14; cf. Matt. 1:21–23).

Name used in combination. The name “Yahweh” also is used in combination with other terms. After God grants a military victory to Israel over the Amalekites, Moses names a commemorative altar “Yahweh Nissi,” meaning “the Lord is my Banner” (Exod. 17:15). In Ezekiel’s temple vision Jerusalem is called “Yahweh Shammah,” meaning “the Lord is there” (Ezek. 48:35). A familiar expression is “the Lord of hosts,” which is generally comparable to the expression “commander in chief” used in American culture (cf. 1 Kings 22:19–23).

Elohim

This is the first term for God encountered in the Bible, right in the opening verse. It is a more generic term, denoting deity in contrast to humans or angels. “Elohim” is a plural form; the singular terms “El” and “Eloah” are used occasionally, particularly in poetic texts. “El” is a common term in the biblical world; in fact, it is the name for the father of Baal in the Canaanite religion. This may explain why the Bible commonly uses the plural form, to distinguish the one true God, the God of Israel, from his pagan rivals. Others explain the plural form as a “plural of majesty” or “plural of intensity,” though it is uncertain just what this would mean. Some see the foundation for NT revelation of the Trinity (Gen. 1:26–27; 11:6–7; cf. John 17:20–22), but this is unlikely. The plural form also can serve simply as a common noun, referring to pagan deities (Exod. 12:12), angels (Ps. 97:7, arguably), or even human authorities (Exod. 22:28, possibly).

“El” also occurs in combination with other descriptive terms. The best known is “El Shaddai,” meaning “God Almighty” (Gen. 17:1). The precise meaning of “Shaddai” is uncertain, but it seems to have the notion of “great/powerful one.” The distressed Hagar, caught, comforted, and counseled by the mysterious personage at a well, calls God “El Roi,” which means “the God who sees me” (Gen. 16:13). One of the most exalted expressions to describe God is “El Elyon,” meaning “God Most High.” This title seems to have particular reference to God as the owner and master of creation (Gen. 14:18–20).

Adonai

As noted above, this common word meaning simply “(my) lord/master” is used regularly in place of the personal name of God revealed to Moses in Exod. 3:14. And in the OT of most English Bibles this is indicated by printing “Lord” as opposed to “Lord” (using small capital letters). However, “Adonai” is used of God in some noteworthy instances, such as Isaiah’s lofty vision of God exalted in Isa. 6 and the prophecy of Immanuel in Isa. 7:14. In time, this became the preferred term for referring to God, and the LXX reflected this by using the Greek word kyrios (“lord”) for Yahweh. This makes the ease with which NT writers transfer the use of the term to Jesus (e.g., 1 Cor. 12:3) a strong indication of their Christology.

The names of God given in the Bible are an important means of revelation about his character and works. The names come from three sources: God himself, those who encounter him in the biblical record, and the biblical writers. This article is concerned mainly with the names that occur in the OT, though the NT will be referenced when helpful.

In the Bible the meaning of names is often significant and points to the character of the person so named. As might be expected, this is especially true for God. The names that he gives to himself always are a form of revelation; the names that humans give to God often are a form of testimony.

Yahweh: The Lord

Pronunciation. Unquestionably, for OT revelation the most important name is “(the) Lord.” In English Bibles this represents the name declared by God to Moses at the burning bush (“I am who I am” [Exod. 3:13–15]) and the related term used elsewhere in the OT; in Hebrew this term consists of the four consonants YHWH and is therefore known as the Tetragrammaton (“four letters”). Hebrew does not count vowels as part of its alphabet; in biblical times one simply wrote the consonants of a word and the reader supplied the correct vowels by knowing the vocabulary, grammar, and context. However, to avoid violating the commandment in the Decalogue that prohibits the misuse of God’s name (Exod. 20:7; Deut. 5:11), the Jews stopped pronouncing it. Consequently, no one today knows its correct original pronunciation, but the best evidence available suggests “Yahweh,” which has become the conventional pronunciation (consider the Hebrew word “hallelujah,” which actually is “hallelu-Yah,” hence “praise the Lord”). In ancient Jewish tradition, “Adonai” (“my Lord”) was substituted for “Yahweh.” In fact, when Hebrew eventually developed a vowel notation system, instead of the vowels for “Yahweh,” the vowels for “Adonai” were indicated whenever YHWH appeared in the biblical text, as a reminder. Combining the consonants YHWH with the vowels of “Adonai” yields something like “Yehowah,” which is the origin of the familiar (but mistaken and nonexistent) “Jehovah.” English Bibles typically use “Lord” (small capital letters) for “Yahweh,” and “Lord” (regular letters) for “Adonai,” which distinguishes the two.

Meaning. More vital than the matter of the pronunciation of YHWH is the question of its meaning. There seem to be two main opinions. One sees YHWH as denoting eternal self-existence, partly because it is suggested by the grammar of Exod. 3:14 (the words “I am” use a form of the Hebrew verb that suggests being without beginning or end) and partly because that is the meaning Jesus apparently ascribes to it in John 8:58. The other opinion, suggested by usage, is that YHWH indicates dynamic, active, divine presence: God’s being present in a special way to act on someone’s behalf (e.g., Gen. 26:28; 39:2–3; Josh. 6:27; 1 Sam. 18:12–14). This idea also appears in the episode of the burning bush (Exod. 3:12): when Moses protests his inadequacy to confront Pharaoh, God assures him of his presence, a reality noted with other prophets (1 Sam. 3:19; Jer. 1:8).

Perhaps the best points of reference for understanding the meaning of YHWH are God’s own proclamations. In addition to Exod. 3:13–15, at least two other passages in Exodus give God’s commentary (as it were) about the meaning of his name. An important one is Exod. 34:5–7. A key passage in the theology proper of ancient Israel, its themes echo in later OT Scripture (Num. 14:18–19; Ps. 103:7–12; Jon. 4:2). What is noteworthy about the texts cited is that all of them say something remarkable about the grace of God. This fits, for the revelation of Exod. 34:5–7 is given in the context of covenant renewal after the incident of the golden calf. Moses invokes God’s name in the Numbers text to avoid catastrophic judgment when the Israelites refuse to enter the promised land. The psalm text picks up this theme and connects it with God’s revelation of his ways to the chosen people. Jonah, remarkably, affirms that the same grace extends even toward a wicked Gentile city such as Nineveh.

Another such passage is Exod. 6:2–8. Here God reaffirms his redemptive purpose for captive Israel, despite the fact that Moses’ first encounter with Pharaoh has not gone well. God assures the prophet that he has remembered his covenant with the patriarchs, whom he says did not know him as “Yahweh,” which probably means that the patriarchs did not experience him in the way or character that their descendants would in the exodus event (though it is possible to translate the Hebrew here as a rhetorical question with an affirmative idea: “And indeed, by my name Yahweh did I not make myself known to them?”). God then proceeds to outline the redemptive experience in its fullness: deliverance from bondage, reception into a covenant relationship, and possession of the land promised to their ancestors (vv. 6–8). The statement is bracketed with this declaration: “I am the Lord” (vv. 2, 8). One stated purpose of this redemptive work is that Israel might come to understand this (v. 7). This is important to note because a central theme of Exodus as a book is the identity of the God of Israel. This concern prompts Moses to ask for God’s name at the burning bush (3:13), and this contempt for the God of the enslaved Hebrews causes Pharaoh to be dismissive at his first meeting with Moses and Aaron (5:2). Moses asks with the concern of a seeker and receives one of the most profound declarations of God’s identity in the Bible. Pharaoh asks with the contempt of a scorner and receives one of the most powerful displays of God’s identity in the Bible (the plagues). The contrast is both striking and instructive. The meaning of God’s name, then, is revealed in works as well as words, and his purpose is that not just his people but all peoples may come to understand who he is. Yet another majestic statement in the book of Exodus (9:13–16) makes this abundantly clear.

Based on this pattern of usage, the name “Yahweh” seems to signify especially the active presence of God to bless, deliver, or otherwise aid his people. Where this presence is absent, there is no success, victory, protection, or peace (Num. 14:39–45; Josh. 7:10–12; Judg. 16:20; 1 Sam. 16:13–14). The message that God not only is but also is present to save and deliver may well be the most important truth communicated in the OT, and it is only natural to see its ultimate embodiment in the person and work of Christ (Isa. 7:14; cf. Matt. 1:21–23).

Name used in combination. The name “Yahweh” also is used in combination with other terms. After God grants a military victory to Israel over the Amalekites, Moses names a commemorative altar “Yahweh Nissi,” meaning “the Lord is my Banner” (Exod. 17:15). In Ezekiel’s temple vision Jerusalem is called “Yahweh Shammah,” meaning “the Lord is there” (Ezek. 48:35). A familiar expression is “the Lord of hosts,” which is generally comparable to the expression “commander in chief” used in American culture (cf. 1 Kings 22:19–23).

Elohim

This is the first term for God encountered in the Bible, right in the opening verse. It is a more generic term, denoting deity in contrast to humans or angels. “Elohim” is a plural form; the singular terms “El” and “Eloah” are used occasionally, particularly in poetic texts. “El” is a common term in the biblical world; in fact, it is the name for the father of Baal in the Canaanite religion. This may explain why the Bible commonly uses the plural form, to distinguish the one true God, the God of Israel, from his pagan rivals. Others explain the plural form as a “plural of majesty” or “plural of intensity,” though it is uncertain just what this would mean. Some see the foundation for NT revelation of the Trinity (Gen. 1:26–27; 11:6–7; cf. John 17:20–22), but this is unlikely. The plural form also can serve simply as a common noun, referring to pagan deities (Exod. 12:12), angels (Ps. 97:7, arguably), or even human authorities (Exod. 22:28, possibly).

“El” also occurs in combination with other descriptive terms. The best known is “El Shaddai,” meaning “God Almighty” (Gen. 17:1). The precise meaning of “Shaddai” is uncertain, but it seems to have the notion of “great/powerful one.” The distressed Hagar, caught, comforted, and counseled by the mysterious personage at a well, calls God “El Roi,” which means “the God who sees me” (Gen. 16:13). One of the most exalted expressions to describe God is “El Elyon,” meaning “God Most High.” This title seems to have particular reference to God as the owner and master of creation (Gen. 14:18–20).

Adonai

As noted above, this common word meaning simply “(my) lord/master” is used regularly in place of the personal name of God revealed to Moses in Exod. 3:14. And in the OT of most English Bibles this is indicated by printing “Lord” as opposed to “Lord” (using small capital letters). However, “Adonai” is used of God in some noteworthy instances, such as Isaiah’s lofty vision of God exalted in Isa. 6 and the prophecy of Immanuel in Isa. 7:14. In time, this became the preferred term for referring to God, and the LXX reflected this by using the Greek word kyrios (“lord”) for Yahweh. This makes the ease with which NT writers transfer the use of the term to Jesus (e.g., 1 Cor. 12:3) a strong indication of their Christology.

Geography

Whereas the principal direction in the modern world is north, in the ancient world different cultures used a variety of orientations as they sought to describe their relationship to their geographical environment. In Israel the primary direction was determined by the sunrise: east. This is reflected in Hebrew, where the main word used to refer to east as a direction was qedem, which could also be used to simply refer to that which was directly ahead or in front of the speaker (e.g., Ps. 139:5). Elsewhere, east is designated by the terms mizrakh (“rising” [Josh. 11:3]) or mizrakh hashamesh (“rising of the sun” [Num. 21:11]), both of which derive from the direction of sunrise. By way of contrast, in Egypt the primary direction was south, in alignment with the source of the Nile River.

The ancient world employed the same notion of four cardinal directions, which persists to the present, and the terminology related to these was influenced by the choice of primary direction. Thus, in Israel north is often designated by “left”; south could be designated by “right,” and west by “behind.” In addition, directions could be specified by reference to geographical features found in those directions. North could be specified by the word tsapon, which was derived from the name of a northern Syrian mountain (Zaphon); south by negeb, a name for the region south of Israel (Negev); and west by yam (“sea”), since the Mediterranean Sea lay to the west.

Symbolism

Aside from their purely geographical significance, the directions also came to bear figurative significance. Some caution is warranted in assigning symbolic significance to language, for there is danger of reading invalid meanings into texts. Furthermore, given the ambiguity inherent in the use of terms to refer to directions, which also have alternate significances, there is danger of assigning a symbolic meaning to the direction that actually resides in the alternate. So, for example, while yam (“sea”) carries significant symbolic overtones in the Bible, this association does not appear to have been extended to encompass the term when used to designate a westerly direction.

East and west. Nonetheless, there is, for example, probably some significance in the expulsion from Eden and progressive movement eastward to the tower of Babel through Gen. 1–11, followed by a return to the promised land, which was approached by reversing the easterly migration and returning toward Eden. Eden itself was said to lie “in the east” (Heb. miqqedem; Gen. 2:8), although the same Hebrew expression in Pss. 74:12; 77:5, 11; 78:2; 143:5 means “in ancient times,” and there is perhaps a deliberate ambiguity in the use of the expression in Gen. 2:8. In Isa. 2:6 the east is the source of influences on the people that lead them astray. Following the exile, Ezekiel sees the glory of God returning to the temple from the east (Ezek. 43:1–2). Thus, when used symbolically, “east” is often viewed negatively or else may be used to mark a connection with distant antiquity (Gen. 2:8; Job 1:3). Any symbolic significance assigned to west appears primarily to be associated with it being the antithesis of east. The distance between east and west was used poetically to express vast distance (Ps. 103:12).

North and south. North is significant for two primary reasons. First, it is the direction from which invading armies most often descended upon Israel (Jer. 1:13) as well as from which Babylon’s destruction is said to come (Jer. 50:3). In light of this, Ezekiel’s vision of God approaching from the north strikes an ominous tone of impending judgment (Ezek. 1:1–4). Second, in Canaanite mythology the abode of the gods, and specifically Baal, lay to the north, on Mount Zaphon. Thus, the king of Babylon’s plans in Isa. 14:13 amount to a claim to establish himself as one of the gods. In contrast to this, Ps. 48:2 pre-sents Mount Zion as supplanting Mount Zaphon and thus implicitly presents Israel’s one God as supplanting the Canaanite pantheon.

As with west, there is little symbolic significance associated with the direction south in the Bible, aside from its use in combination with other directions.

The four directions. The four directions (or sometimes just pairs of directions) are used together to describe both the scattering of the Israelites as well as their being gathered by God back to the promised land (Ps. 107:3; Isa. 43:5–6; Luke 13:29). They are also used together to express the extent of the promised land (Gen. 13:14) or else to describe something that is all-encompassing (1 Chron. 9:24).

A son of Eber, the brother of Joktan, and the father of Reu, he lived 239 years (Gen. 10:25; 11:16–19; 1 Chron. 1:19). He was a direct descendant of Noah through Shem and an ancestor of the patriarch Abraham (1 Chron. 1:25). He is included in the Lukan genealogy of Jesus (Luke 3:35).

It is noted that the earth was divided in Peleg’s time (Gen. 10:25; 1 Chron. 1:19). The Hebrew word translated as “divided” is a play on the name “Peleg,” both having the same Hebrew root. This interesting statement has been variously interpreted. It may be a reference to the division of languages at the tower of Babel (Gen. 11:1–9), the spreading of Noah’s descendants after the flood (“from these the nations spread out over the earth after the flood” [Gen. 10:32]), or something else of unknown referent. This is probably a reference to the outcome of the tower of Babel, noted as a significant event in the Genesis record.

The biblical corpus known as the Pentateuch consists of the first five books of the OT: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. The word “Pentateuch” comes from two Greek words (penta [“five”] and teuchos [“scroll case, book”]) and is a designation attested in the early church fathers. The collection is also commonly known as the “Five Books of Moses,” “the Law of Moses,” or simply the “Law,” reflecting the traditional Jewish name “Torah,” meaning “law” or “instruction.” The Torah is the first of three major sections that comprise the Hebrew Bible (Torah, Nebiim, Ketubim [Law, Prophets, Writings]); thus for both Jewish and Christian traditions it represents the introduction to the Bible as a whole as well as its interpretive foundation.

The English names for the books of the Pentateuch came from the Latin Vulgate, based on the Greek Septuagint. These appellations are mainly descriptive of their content. Genesis derives from “generations” or “origin,” Exodus means “going out,” Leviticus represents priestly (Levitical) service, Numbers refers to the censuses taken in the book, and Deuteronomy indicates “second law” because of Moses’ rehearsal of God’s commands (see Deut. 17:18). The Hebrew designations derive from opening words in each book. Bereshit (Genesis) means “in the beginning”; Shemot (Exodus), “[these are] the names”; Wayyiqra’ (Leviticus), “and he called”; Bemidbar (Numbers), “in the desert”; and Debarim (Deuteronomy), “[these are] the words.”

Referring to the Pentateuch as “Torah” or the “Law” reflects the climactic reception of God’s commands at Mount Sinai, which were to govern Israel’s life and worship in the promised land, including their journey to get there. However, calling the Pentateuch the “Law” can be a bit misleading because there are relatively few passages that simply list a set of commands, and all law passages are set within a broad narrative. The Pentateuch is a grand story that begins on a universal scale with the creation of the cosmos and ends on the plains of Moab as the reader anticipates the fulfillment of God’s plan to redeem a fallen world through his chosen people. The books offer distinct qualities and content, but they are also inherently dependent upon one another, as the narrative remains unbroken through the five volumes. Genesis ends with Jacob’s family in Egypt, and, though many years have passed, this is where Exodus begins. Leviticus outlines cultic life at the tabernacle (constructed at the end of Exodus) and even begins without a clear subject (“And he called . . .”), which requires the reader to supply “the Lord” from the last verse of Exodus. Numbers begins with an account of Israel’s fighting men as the nation prepares to leave Sinai, and Deuteronomy is Moses’ farewell address to the nation on the cusp of the promised land.

Authorship and Composition

Although the Pentateuch is technically an anonymous work, Jewish and Christian tradition attributes its authorship to Moses, the main figure of the story from Exodus to Deuteronomy. The arguments for attributing the authorship of the Pentateuch to Moses come from internal evidence within both Testaments. That Moses is responsible for at least portions of the Pentateuch is suggested by references to his explicit literary activity reflected within the narrative itself (Exod. 17:14; 24:4; 34:28; Num. 33:2; Deut. 31:9, 22, 24), if not implied in various literary formulas such as “the Lord said to Moses” (e.g., Exod. 39:1, 7, 21; Lev. 4:1; 11:1; 13:1; Num. 1:1; 2:1). Mosaic authorship receives support from the historical books, which use terms such as “the Book of the Law of Moses” in various forms and references in the preexilic history (Josh. 8:30–35; 23:6; 2 Kings 14:6) as well as the postexilic history (e.g., 2 Chron. 25:4; Ezra 6:18; Neh. 13:1). The same titles are used by NT authors (e.g., Mark 12:26; Luke 24:44; John 1:45), even referring to the Pentateuch simply by the name “Moses” at various points (e.g., Luke 16:29; 24:27; 2 Cor. 3:15).

Even with these examples, nowhere does the text explicitly state that Moses is responsible for the entire compilation of the Pentateuch or that he penned it with his own hand. Rather, a number of factors point to a later hand at work: Moses’ death and burial are referenced (Deut. 34), the conquest of Canaan is referred to as past (Deut. 2:12), and there is evidence that the names of people and places were updated and explained for later generations (e.g., “Dan” in Gen. 14:14; cf. Josh. 19:47; Judg. 18:28b–29). Based on these factors, it is reasonable to believe that the Pentateuch underwent editorial alteration as it was preserved within Jewish life and took its final shape after Moses’ lifetime.

Over the last century, the Documentary Hypothesis has dominated academic discussion of the Pentateuch’s composition. This theory was crystallized by Julius Wellhausen in his Prolegomena to the History of Israel in the late nineteenth century and posits that the Pentateuch originated from a variety of ancient sources derived from distinct authors and time periods that have been transmitted and joined through a long and complex process. Traditionally these documents are identified as J, E, D, and P. The J source is a document authored by the “Yahwist” (German, Jahwist) in Judah around 840 BC and is so called because the name “Yahweh” is used frequently in its text. The E source stands for “Elohist” because of its preference for the divine title “Elohim” and was composed in Israel around 700 BC. The D source stands for “Deuteronomy” because it reflects material found in that book; it was composed sometime around Josiah’s reform in 621 BC. The P document reflects material that priests would be concerned with in the postexilic time period, approximately 500 BC. This theory and its related forms stem from the scholarly concern over various literary characteristics such as the use of divine names; doublets and duplications in the text; observable patterns of style, terminology, and themes; and alleged discrepancies in facts, descriptions, and geographic or historical perspective.

Various documentary theories of composition have flourished over the last century of pentateuchal scholarship and still have many adherents. However, lack of scholarly agreement about the dating and character of the sources and the rise of other literary approaches to the text have many conservative and liberal scholars calling into question the accuracy and even interpretive benefit of the source theories. Moreover, if the literary observations used to create source distinctions can be explained in other ways, then the Documentary Hypothesis is significantly undermined.

In its canonical form, the pentateuchal narrative combines artistic prose, poetry, and law to tell a dramatic history spanning thousands of years. One could divide the story into six major sections: primeval history (Gen. 1–11), the patriarchs (Gen. 12–50), liberation from Egypt (Exod. 1–18), Sinai (Exod. 19:1–Num. 10:10), wilderness journey (Num. 10:11–36:13), and Moses’ farewell (Deuteronomy).

Primeval History (Gen. 1–11)

It is possible to divide Genesis into two parts based upon subject matter: the origin of creation and humankind’s call, fall, and punishment (chaps 1–11), and the origin of a family that would become God’s conduit of salvation and blessing for the world (chaps. 12–50).

The primeval history comprises essentially the first eleven chapters of Genesis, ending with the genealogy of Abraham in 11:26. Strictly speaking, 11:27 begins the patriarchal section with the sixth instance of the toledot formula found in Genesis, referencing Abraham’s father, Terah. The Hebrew phrase ’elleh toledot (“these are the generations of”) occurs in eleven places in Genesis and reflects a deliberate structural marker that one may use to divide the book into distinct episodes (2:4; 5:1; 6:9; 10:1; 11:10; 11:27; 25:12; 25:19; 36:1; 36:9; 37:2).

Genesis as we know it exhibits two distinct creation accounts in its first two chapters. Although critical scholars contend that the differing accounts reflect contradictory stories and different authors, it is just as convenient to recognize that the two stories vary in style and some content because they attempt to accomplish different aims. The first account, 1:1–2:3, is an artistic, poetic, symmetrical, and “heavenly” view of creation by a transcendent God, who spoke creation into being. In the second account, 2:4–25, God is immanently involved with creation as he is present in a garden, breathes life into Adam’s nostrils, dialogues and problem-solves, fashions Eve from Adam’s side, and bestows warnings and commands. Both perspectives are foundational for providing an accurate view of God’s interaction with creation in the rest of Scripture.

As one progresses through chapters 1–11, the story quickly changes from what God has established as “very good” to discord, sin, and shame. Chapter 3 reflects the “fall” of humanity as Adam and Eve sin in eating from the forbidden tree in direct disobedience to God. The serpent shrewdly deceives the first couple, and thus all three incur God’s curses, which extend to unlimited generations. Sin that breaks the vertical relationship between God and humanity intrinsically leads to horizontal strife between humans. Sin and disunity on the earth only intensify as one moves from the murder story of Cain and Abel in chapter 4 to the flood in chapters 5–9. Violence, evil, and disorder have so pervaded the earth that God sends a deluge to wipe out all living things, save one righteous man and his family, along with an ark full of animals. God makes the first covenant recorded in the biblical narrative with Noah (6:18), promising to save him from the flood as he commands Noah to build an ark and gather food for survival. Noah fulfills all that God has commanded (6:22; 7:5), and God remembers his promise (8:1). This is the prototypical salvation story for the rest of Scripture.

Chapter 9 reflects a new start for humanity and all living things as the creation mandate to “be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it,” first introduced in 1:28, is restated along with the reminder that humankind is made in God’s image (1:27). Bearing the image involves new responsibilities and stipulations in the postdiluvian era (9:2–6). There will be enmity between humans and animals, animals are now appropriate food, and yet lifeblood will be specially revered. God still requires accountability for just and discriminate shedding of blood and orderly relationships, as he has proved in the deluge, but now he relinquishes this responsibility to humankind. In return, God promises never to destroy all flesh again, and he will set the rainbow in the sky as a personal reminder. Like the covenant with Noah in 6:18, the postdiluvian covenant involves humankind fulfilling commands (9:1–7) and God remembering his covenant (9:8–17), specially termed “everlasting” (9:16).

The primeval commentary on humankind’s unabating sinful condition (e.g., 6:5; 8:21) proves true as Noah becomes drunk and naked and his son Ham (father of Canaan) shames him by failing to conceal his father’s negligence. Instead of multiplying, filling, and subduing the earth as God has intended, humankind collaborates to make a name for itself by building a sort of stairway to heaven within a special city (11:4). God foils such haughty plans by scattering the people across the earth and confusing their language. Expressed in an orderly chiastic structure, the story of the tower of Babel demonstrates that God condescends (11:5) to set things straight with humanity.

Patriarchs (Gen. 12–50)

Although the primeval history is foundational for understanding the rest of the Bible, more space in Genesis is devoted to the patriarchal figures Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph. In general, the Abrahamic narrative spans chapters 12–25, the story of Isaac serves as a transition to the Jacob cycle of chapters 25–37, and the Joseph narrative finishes the book of Genesis in chapters 37–50.

The transition from the primeval history to the patriarchs (11:27–32) reveals how Abraham, the father of Israel, moves from the east and settles in Harran as the family ventures to settle in Canaan. In Harran, Abraham receives the call of God’s redemptive plan, which reverberates through Scripture. God will bless him with land, make him a great nation, grant him special favor, and use him as a conduit of blessings to the world (12:1–3). In 11:30 is the indication that the barrenness of Abraham’s wife (Sarah) relates to the essence of God’s magnificent promises. How one becomes great in name and number, secures enemy territory, and is to bless all peoples without a descendant becomes the compelling question of the Abrahamic narrative. The interchange between Abraham’s faith in God and his attempts to contrive covenant fulfillment colors the entire narrative leading up to chapter 22. It is there that Abraham’s faith is ultimately put to the test as God asks him to sacrifice the promised son, Isaac. Abraham passes God’s faith test, and a ram is provided to take Isaac’s place. This everlasting covenant that was previously sealed by the sign of circumcision is climactically procured for future generations through Abraham’s exemplary obedience (22:16–18; cf. 15:1–21; 17:1–27).

The patriarchal stories that follow show that the Abrahamic promises are renewed with subsequent generations (see 26:3–4; 28:13–14) and survive various threats to fulfillment. The story of Isaac serves mainly as a bridge to the Jacob cycle, as he exists primarily as a passive character in relation to Abraham and Jacob.

Deception, struggle, rivalry, and favoritism characterize the Jacob narrative, as first exemplified in the jostling of twin boys in Rebekah’s womb (25:22). Jacob supplants his twin brother, Esau, for the firstborn’s blessing and birthright. He flees to Paddan Aram (northern Mesopotamia), marries two sisters, takes their maidservants as concubines, and has eleven children, followed by a falling-out with his father-in-law. Jacob’s struggle for God’s blessing that began with Esau comes to a head in his wrestling encounter with God at Peniel. Ultimately, Jacob emerges victorious and receives God’s blessing and a name change, “Israel” (“one who struggles with God”). Throughout the Jacob story, God demonstrates his faithfulness to the Abrahamic covenant and reiterates the promises to Jacob, most notably at Bethel (chaps. 28; 35). The interpersonal strife of Jacob’s life is thus enveloped within a message of reconciliation not just with Esau (chap. 33) but ultimately with God. The reader learns from the episodes in Jacob’s life that although God works through the lives of weak and failing people, his promises for Israel remain secure.

Although Jacob and his family are already living in Canaan, God intends for them to move to Egypt and grow into a powerful nation before fulfilling their conquest of the promised land (see 15:13–16). The story of Joseph explains how the family ends up in Egypt at the close of Genesis. Joseph is specially loved by his father, which elicits significant jealousy from his brothers, who sell him off to some nomads and fabricate the alibi that he has been killed by a wild beast. Joseph winds up in Pharaoh’s household and eventually becomes his top official. When famine strikes Canaan years later, Joseph’s brothers go to Egypt to purchase food from the royal court, and Joseph reveals his identity to them in an emotional reunion. Jacob’s entire family moves to Egypt to live for a time in prosperity under Joseph’s care. The Joseph story illustrates the mysterious relationship of human decision and divine sovereignty (50:20).

Liberation from Egypt (Exod. 1–18)

Genesis shows how Abraham develops into a large family. Exodus shows how this family becomes a nation—enslaved, freed, and then taught the ways of God. Although it appears that Exodus continues a riveting story of God’s chosen people, it is actually the identity and power of God that take center stage.

Many years have passed since Joseph’s family arrived in Egypt. The Hebrews’ good standing in Egypt has also diminished as their multiplication and fruitfulness during the intervening period—just as God had promised Abraham (Gen. 17:4–8)—became a national threat to the Egyptians. Abraham’s family will spend time in Egyptian slavery before being liberated with many possessions in hand (cf. Gen. 15:13–14).

In the book of Exodus the drama of suffering and salvation serves as the vehicle for God’s self-disclosure to a single man, Moses. Moses is an Israelite of destiny even from birth, as he providentially avoids infant death and rises to power and influence in Pharaoh’s household. Moses never loses his passion for his own people, and he kills an Egyptian who was beating a fellow Hebrew. Moses flees to obscurity in the desert, where he meets God and his call to lead his people out of Egypt and to the promised land (3:7–8; 6:8). Like the days of Noah’s salvation, God has remembered his covenant with the patriarchs and responded to the groans of his people in Egypt (2:24; 6:4–5; cf. Gen. 8:1). God reveals himself, and his personal name “Yahweh” (“I am”), to Moses in the great theophany of the burning bush at Mount Horeb (Sinai), the same place where later he will receive God’s law. Moses doubts his own ability to carry out the task of confronting Pharaoh and leading the exodus, but God foretells that many amazing signs and wonders not only will make the escape possible but also will ultimately reveal the mighty nature of God to the Hebrews, Egypt, and presumably the world (6:7; 7:5).

This promise of creating a nation of his people through deliverance is succinctly conveyed in the classic covenant formula that finds significance in the rest of the OT: “I will take you as my own people, and I will be your God” (6:7). Wielding great power over nature and at times even human decision, God “hardens” Pharaoh’s heart and sends ten plagues to demonstrate his favor for his own people and wrath against their enemy nation. The tenth plague on the firstborn of all in Egypt provides the context for the Passover as God spares the firstborn of Israel in response to the placement of sacrificial blood on the doorposts of their homes. Pharaoh persists in the attempt to overtake the Israelites in the desert, where the power of God climaxes in parting the Red Sea (or Sea of Reeds). The Israelites successfully pass through, but the Egyptian army drowns in pursuit. This is the great salvation event of the OT.

The song of praise for God’s deliverance (15:1–21) quickly turns to cries of groaning in the seventy days following the exodus as the people of the nation, grumbling about their circumstances in the desert, quickly demonstrate their fleeting trust in the one who has saved them (Exod. 15:22–18:27). When a shortage of water and food confronts the people, their faith in God’s care proves shallow, and they turn on Moses. Even though the special marks of God’s protection have been evident in the wilderness through the pillars of cloud and fire, the angel of God, the provision of manna and quail, water from the rock, and the leadership of Moses, the nation continually fails God’s tests of trust and obedience (16:4; cf. 17:2; 20:20). Yet God continues to endure with his people through the leadership of Moses.

Sinai (Exod. 19:1–Num. 10:10)

Most of the pentateuchal narrative takes place at Mount Sinai. It is there that Israel receives national legislation and prescriptions for the tabernacle, the priesthood, feasts and festivals, and other covenantal demands for living as God’s chosen people. The eleven-month stay at Sinai takes the biblical reader through the center of the Pentateuch, covering approximately the last half of Exodus, all of Leviticus, and the first third of Numbers, before the nation leaves this sacred site and sojourns in the wilderness. Several key sections of the Pentateuch fall within the Sinai story: the Decalogue (Exod. 20:1–17), the Book of the Covenant (Exod. 20:22–23:33), the tabernacle prescriptions (Exod. 25–31), the tabernacle construction (Exod. 35–40), the manual on ritual worship (Lev. 1–7), and the Holiness Code (Lev. 17–27).

The events and instruction at Sinai are central to the Israelite religious experience and reflect the third eternal covenant that God establishes in the Pentateuch—this time with Israel, whereby the Sabbath is the sign (Exod. 31:16; cf. Noahic/rainbow covenant [Gen. 9:16] and the Abrahamic/circumcision covenant [Gen. 17:7, 13, 19]). The offices of prophet and priest develop into clear view in this portion of the Pentateuch. Moses exemplifies the dual prophetic function of representing the people when speaking with God and, in turn, God when speaking to the people. The priesthood is bestowed upon Aaron and his descendants in Exodus and inaugurated within one of the few narrative sections of Leviticus (Lev. 8–10). The giving of the law, the ark, the tabernacle, the priesthood, and the Sabbath are all a part of God’s making himself “known” to Israel and the world, which is a constant theme in Exodus (see, e.g., 25:22; 29:43, 46; 31:13).

The Israelites’ stay at Sinai opens with one of the greatest theophanies of the Bible: God speaks aloud to the people (Exod. 19–20) and then is envisioned as a consuming fire (Exod. 24). After communicating the Ten Commandments (“ten words”) directly to the people (Exod. 34:28; Deut. 4:13; 10:4), Moses mediates the rest of the detailed obligations that will govern the future life of the nation. The covenant is ratified in ceremonial fashion (Exod. 24), and the Israelites vow to fulfill all that has been spoken. God expects Israel to be a holy nation (Exod. 19:6) with whom he may dwell, but Moses descends Sinai only to find that the Israelites have already violated the essence of the Decalogue by fashioning a golden calf to worship as that which delivered them from Egypt (Exod. 32). This places Israel’s future and calling in jeopardy, but Moses intercedes for his people, and God graciously promises to preserve the nation and abide with it in his mercy, even while punishing the guilty. This becomes prototypical of God’s relationship with his people in the future (Exod. 34:6–7).

Exodus ends with the consecration of the tabernacle and the descent of God’s presence there. With the tent of worship in order, the priesthood and its rituals can be officially established. Leviticus reflects divine instructions for how a sinful people may live safely in close proximity to God. Holy living involves dealing with sin and minimizing the need for atonement, purification, and restitution. The sacrificial and worship system established in Leviticus is based on a worldview of order, perfection, and purity, which should characterize a people who are commanded, “Be holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy’ (Lev. 19:2; cf. 11:44–45; 20:26). With these rules in place, the Israelites can make final preparations to depart Sinai and move forward on their journey. Numbers 1–10 spans a nineteen-day period of such activities as the Israelites begin to focus on dispossessing their enemies. These chapters reflect a census of fighting men, the priority of purity, the dedication of the tabernacle, and the observance of the Passover before commencing the quest to Canaan.

Wilderness Journey (Num. 10:11–36:13)

The rest of the book of Numbers covers the remainder of a forty-year stretch of great peaks and valleys in the faith and future of the nation. Chapters 11–25 recount the various events that show the exodus generation’s lack of trust in God. Chapters 26–36 reveal a more positive section whereby a new generation prepares for the conquest. With the third section of Numbers framed by episodes involving the inheritance rights of Zelophehad’s daughters (27:1–11; 36:1–13), it is clear that the story has turned to the future possession of the land.

After the departure from Sinai, the narrative consists of a number of Israelite complaints in the desert. The Israelites have grown tired of manna and ironically crave the food of Egypt, which they recall as free fish, fruits, and vegetables. Having forgotten the hardship of life in slavery, about which they had cried out to God, now the nation is crying out for a lifestyle of old. Moses becomes so overwhelmed with the complaints of the people that God provides seventy elders, who, to help shoulder the leadership burden, will receive the same prophetic spirit given to Moses.

In chapters 13–14 twelve spies are sent out from Kadesh Barnea to peruse Canaan, but the people’s lack of faith to procure the land from the mighty people there proves costly. This final example of distrust moves God to punish and purify the nation. The unbelieving generation will die in the wilderness during a forty-year period of wandering.

The discontent in the desert involves not only food and water but also leadership status. Moses’ own brother and sister resent his special relationship with God and challenge his exclusive authority. Later, Aaron’s special high priesthood is threatened as another Levitical family (Korah) vies for preeminence. Through a sequence of signs and wonders, God makes it clear that Moses and Aaron have exclusive roles in God’s economy. Due to the deaths related to Korah’s rebellion and the fruitless staffs that represent the tribes of Israel, the nation’s concern about sudden extinction in the presence of a holy God is appeased through the eternal covenant of priesthood granted to Aaron’s family (chap. 18). He and the Levites, at the potential expense of their own lives and as part of their priestly service, will be held accountable for keeping the tabernacle pure of encroachers.

Even after the people’s significant rebellion and punishment, God continues to prove his faithfulness to his word. Hope is restored for the nation as the Abrahamic promises of blessing are rehearsed from the mouth of Balaam, a Mesopotamian seer. The Israelites will indeed one day be numerous (23:10), enjoy the presence of God (23:21), be blessed and protected (24:9), and have a kingly leader (24:17). This wonderful mountaintop experience of hope for the exodus generation is tragically countered by an even greater event of apostasy in the subsequent scene. Reminiscent of the incident of the golden calf, when pagan revelry in the camp had foiled Moses’ interaction with God on Sinai, apostasy at the tabernacle undermines Balaam’s oracles of covenant fulfillment. Fornication with Moabite women not only joins the nation to a foreign god but also betrays God’s holiness at his place of dwelling. If not for the zeal of Aaron’s grandson Phinehas, who puts an end to the sin, the ensuing plague could have finished the nation. For his righteous action, Phinehas is awarded an eternal priesthood and ensures a future for the nation and Aaron’s priestly lineage.

In chapter 26 a second census of fighting men indicates that the old, unbelieving exodus generation has officially died off (except for Joshua and Caleb), and God is proceeding with a new people. God dispossesses the enemies of the new generation; reinstates the tribal boundaries of the land; reinstates rules concerning worship, service, and bloodshed; and places Joshua at the helm of leadership. Chapters 26–36 mention no deaths or rebellions as the nation optimistically ends its journey in Moab, just east of the promised land.

Moses’ Farewell (Deuteronomy)

Although one could reasonably move into the historical books at the end of Numbers, much would be lost in overstepping Deuteronomy. Deuteronomy presents Moses’ farewell speeches as his final words to a nation on the verge of Caanan. Moses’ speeches are best viewed as sermons motivating his people to embrace the Sinai covenant, love their God, and choose life over death and blessings over cursings (30:19). Moses reviews the desert experience since Mount Horeb/Sinai (chaps. 1–4) and recapitulates God’s expectations for lawful living in the land (chaps. 5–26). The covenant code is recorded on a scroll, is designated the “Book of the Law” (31:24–26), and is to be read and revered by the future king. Finally, Moses leads the nation in covenant renewal (chaps. 29–32) before the book finishes with an account of his death (chaps. 33–34), including tributes such as “since then, no prophet has risen in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face” (34:10).

Deuteronomy reflects that true covenant faithfulness is achieved from a right heart for God. If there were any previous doubts about the essence of covenant keeping, Moses eliminates such in Deuteronomy with the frequent use of emotive terms. Loving God involves committing to him alone and spurning idols and foreign gods. The Ten Commandments (chap. 5) are not a list of stale requirements; they reflect the great Shema with the words “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts” (6:5–6). God desires an unrivaled love from the nation, not cold and superficial religiosity.

Obedience by the Israelites will incur material and spiritual blessing, whereas disobedience ends in the loss of both. Although Moses strongly commends covenant obedience, and the nation participates in a covenant-renewal ceremony (chap. 27), it is clear that in the future the Israelites will fail to uphold their covenant obligations and will suffer the consequences (29:23; 30:1–4; 31:16–17). Yet Moses looks to a day when the command for circumcised hearts (10:16) will be fulfilled by the power of God himself (30:6). In the future a new king will arise from the nation (17:14–20) as well as a prophet like Moses (18:15–22). Deuteronomy thus underscores the extent of God’s own devotion to his patriarchal promises despite the sinful nature of his people.

For much of the middle and end of the twentieth century, Deuteronomy has received a significant amount of attention for its apparent resemblance in structure and content to ancient Hittite and Assyrian treaties. Scholars debate the extent of similarity, but it is possible that Deuteronomy reflects a suzerain-vassal treaty form between Israel and God much like the common format between nations in the ancient Near East. Although comparative investigation of this type can be profitable for interpretation, it is prudent to be conservative when outlining direct parallels, since Deuteronomy is not a legal document but rather a dramatic narrative of God’s redemptive interaction with the world.

A son of Eber, the brother of Joktan, and the father of Reu, he lived 239 years (Gen. 10:25; 11:16–19; 1 Chron. 1:19). He was a direct descendant of Noah through Shem and an ancestor of the patriarch Abraham (1 Chron. 1:25). He is included in the Lukan genealogy of Jesus (Luke 3:35).

It is noted that the earth was divided in Peleg’s time (Gen. 10:25; 1 Chron. 1:19). The Hebrew word translated as “divided” is a play on the name “Peleg,” both having the same Hebrew root. This interesting statement has been variously interpreted. It may be a reference to the division of languages at the tower of Babel (Gen. 11:1–9), the spreading of Noah’s descendants after the flood (“from these the nations spread out over the earth after the flood” [Gen. 10:32]), or something else of unknown referent. This is probably a reference to the outcome of the tower of Babel, noted as a significant event in the Genesis record.

The word “providence” comes from the Latin word providentia, which means “foresight.” However, the modern theological use of the term refers not to foresight or foreknowl-edge per se but rather to how God continues to sustain and guide his creation. There is no single term in either the OT or the NT that translates as “providence.” The one time the word occurs in the NIV (Job 10:12), the Hebrew word (peqqudah) is one that the NIV in other places usually translates with words such as “care,” “charge,” or “oversight.” The concept of divine providence comes not from any one word but rather from numerous statements in the Bible that speak of God’s continuing supervision of his world. The biblical data can perhaps best be organized under four headings: created order, world history, salvation history, and individual history. These headings are, however, not discrete; they continually intersect.

Created Order

Scripture testifies in numerous places to God’s ongoing supervision of his creation. The psalms play a special role here. As one commentator has remarked, there are no nature lyrics in the psalms, only admiration and awe at how God runs his world. God actively cares for the land and waters it, causes grass to grow, plants trees, and makes sure that they are well watered (Pss. 65:9; 104:14, 16). God brings darkness on the land and tells the sun when to set and when to rise (Ps. 104:19–20). God is the zookeeper who makes sure all the animals are fed (Ps. 104:27). Every birth of every living creature is regarded as a new creative work of God, and he constantly renews the face of the earth (Ps. 104:30).

God blankets the earth with snow and lays down a sheet of frost (Ps. 147:16). When the snow and frost melt, it is because God commanded it by his word and sent breezes to make the melting waters flow (Ps. 147:18). Hail, snow, clouds, and stormy winds do their Master’s bidding (Ps. 148:8). God commands the morning to dawn and keeps the snow and hail in storehouses, ready to be deployed on the day of battle (Job 38:12, 22–23). The sea waves roar because God stirs them up (Jer. 31:35). God even speaks of being in a covenant relationship with his creation (Jer. 33:20, 25).

In the NT, we find that Jesus Christ himself sustains “all things by his powerful word” (Heb. 1:3). In him “all things hold together” (Col. 1:17).

World History

What happens on the world scene is under God’s sovereign control. If the nations are scattered over the world and speak different languages, it is because God made it so (Gen. 11:1–9). God determines whether the nations are blessed or cursed (Gen. 12:3). God is the one who has apportioned each nation’s inher-i-tance and has established their boundaries (Deut. 32:8). Yahweh is the God of Israel, which is his special possession, but he has also appointed deities for the other nations to worship (Deut. 4:19 [evidently false gods, but still under Yahweh’s sovereignty]). He judges the world and carries out justice for the peoples, foils the plans of the nations, forms the hearts of all people, reigns over the nations and guides them (Pss. 9:8; 33:10, 15; 47:8; 67:4).

It is by God’s sanction that kings reign, and a king’s heart is like a watercourse, which God can redirect at will (Prov. 8:15; 21:1). God “does as he pleases with the powers of heaven and the peoples of the earth” (Dan. 4:35). All thrones, powers, rulers, and authorities “were created through him and for him” (Col. 1:16). God is actively working to bring the whole universe and all peoples and nations under one head, his Son, Christ Jesus (Eph. 1:10).

Salvation History

Within world history, God has also worked through one particular people, the Israelites, to accomplish his redemptive purposes. When Joseph told his brothers that what they had intended to do to him for evil, God had intended for good, for “the saving of many lives” (Gen. 50:20), he may not have fully realized how much his words were in accord with, and could even be said to summarize, redemptive history. God took the harm that Joseph’s brothers intended and used it to fulfill the promises that he had made years earlier to Abraham with regard to what would happen to his descendants (Gen. 12:1–3). In the early chapters of Exodus, God’s sovereignty over the “forces of nature” intersects with his deliverance of the Israelites in the plagues that he brings on the Egyptians. Of course, God had raised up Pharaoh for the very purpose of displaying his own glory in victory over Pharaoh and “all the gods of Egypt” (Exod. 9:16; 12:12; cf. Rom. 9:17).

Throughout the ensuing Israelite history, God demonstrates his providential care for the Israelites. The Jews return from their Babylonian captivity because God raised up Cyrus, even though Cyrus did not acknowledge him (Isa. 44:28–45:13), for the very purpose of issuing the decree that allowed them to return. Even in narratives in which God’s name is not mentioned, such as the book of Esther, we are to understand that God is directing the action, and certainly the narrator wants us to connect the account of the origin of the festival of Purim (“lots”) with the idea that “the lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord” (Prov. 16:33).

In the NT the act that secures our redemption, the crucifixion of Jesus, is not an unforeseen occurrence that God makes the best of; rather, the death of Jesus is that which he himself would “accomplish” (Luke 9:31 NRSV [NIV: “bring to fulfillment”]). No one takes Jesus’ life from him; he lays it down of his own accord (John 10:18). Jesus even gives Judas Iscariot directions on the night of his betrayal (John 13:27). What happens in the crucifixion is in accord with “God’s deliberate plan and foreknowledge” (Acts 2:23) and with what his “power and will had decided beforehand should happen” (4:28).

Individual History

Jesus promises that for those who seek the kingdom of God, “all these things will be given to you as well” (Matt. 6:33). If God feeds the birds of the air and clothes the grass of the field, much more will he take care to feed and clothe us (Matt. 6:26, 30). Indeed, “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Rom. 8:28).

Architecture is the technology and the art of design and construction. The technology of architecture includes an understanding of mathematical and engineering principles; the art of architecture focuses attention on interest and beauty in design. The creative imagination of the architect is constantly considering how to artfully manage form and function in the design and construction process.

Architecture and the Bible

The term “architecture” does not occur in most English translations of the Bible. There is, however, evidence of and reference to the architectural activity of God’s people. In addition, Israel and the church were contextualized in significant architectural periods (Egyptian, Assyrian, Greek, and Roman), so the major empires of the biblical period often influenced the design and construction of cities, temples, and structures referenced in the biblical text. Architecture offers biblical studies a way to better understand the historical intentions of the Bible. By means of architectural investigation, the history and the heritage of past civilizations are illuminated. As a result, our reading of the biblical text is enhanced.

When we investigate the biblical text with attention to the technology and art of architecture, two perspectives emerge. First, architecture draws our attention to the background of the biblical text. In certain biblical texts we learn about the design and the construction that took place in Egypt, Assyria, and Palestine during major biblical events. For example, the patriarchal and Mosaic periods occurred during times of expansion and development in the Eighteenth to Twentieth Dynasties of Egypt (i.e., New Kingdom, sixteenth to eleventh centuries BC). For these periods, we gain knowledge about capital relocations along with temple and pyramid constructions. We learn that during the conquest, Israel took over existing Canaanite cities in keeping with the Mosaic policies. The architecture of Palestine enables us to better understand the form and function of these infrastructures.

Second, architecture draws our attention to the theological implications of the form and function of structures designed by God. In keeping with the scope of architecture, we are forced to understand that what God designed for altars, the ark, the tabernacle, and the temples of the past and the future included more than just the functional requirements of a nation’s religious system. The interpreter of the biblical text must consider how the design of these structures elicits response and communicates meaning. These structures are also windows on the social, political, and economic aspects of the Israelite nation.

Old Testament

Cities and fortifications. The biblical rec­ord makes reference to architectural structures, materials, and furnishings. Cities are referenced frequently throughout the OT canon. The city is obviously the context for architectural expression. The cities of the Bible are not described in extensive detail. We learn that Cain was a city builder who named his work after his son Enoch. The architectural feature of cities mentioned most often is the city gates (Gen. 19:1; 23:10, 18; Deut. 17:5; Josh. 2:5; 7:5; 20:4; Judg. 5:8). This was an important place for city life and activity (Gen. 23:1; Prov. 31:31). There was also sinister activity at city gates. Abner, for example, was killed in the city gate (2 Sam. 3:22–30). In addition, executions for covenant violations were carried out at the city gate (Deut. 17:5). There was more than one city gate, as we learn from the postexilic construction activity of Ezra and Nehemiah.

Within the city there was a strong tower. The people of Babel used thoroughly baked bricks instead of stone and tar for mortar in order to build the city and the tower that was designed to reach to the heavens (Gen. 11:3–4). A city tower functioned as a place of refuge for the people within the city limits (Judg. 9:49–51).

Cities were protected by a wall system (Lev. 25:29) that also provided space for housing (Josh. 2:15). The conquest of Jericho recounts the familiar defeat of that city by the very unconventional destruction of its walls (Josh. 6:20). A city square is another feature of the city architecture (Judg. 19:15–17) that served the public needs of the community.

The biblical descriptions of Jerusalem offer a measure of insight into its architecture. During the rebuilding process in the postexilic period, Nehemiah comments on both the construction and the building materials (Neh. 2:8; 13:31; cf. Ezra 6:4) and the spacious nature of the city (Neh. 7:4). From another perspective, the psalmist comments, “Jerusalem is built like a city that is closely compacted together” (Ps. 122:3).

Beyond these textual details we learn through the writings of the prophets that cities are the subject of God’s wrath for covenant violation (Jer. 6:6; Hos. 11:6; Mic. 5:11). Despite this, the nation of Israel is not left without the hope of restoration. The prophets also anticipated the return of the people along with the restoration of the city infrastructure (Amos 9:14; Mal. 1:4).

The temple and sacred structures. The other architectural features referenced by the writers of Scripture include altars, the tabernacle, the tent of meeting, and the temple. The tent and the tabernacle were also outfitted with unique furniture items described in detail and expertly crafted. The construction projects of Solomon are detailed in 1 Kings 5–7. Solomon, like David, pursued his architectural ambitions. The book of Ezekiel gives extensive architectural detail for the construction of a future temple in which God will reign and rule (Ezek. 40–48).

The temple and royal residences were made of stone with cedar roofing. The chamber buildings that surrounded the temple were three stories high. The interior walls and ceilings were lined with cedar to cover all the stone (1 Kings 6:1–10). In all the construction details for the temple, the text does not elaborate on architectural style. Perhaps the builders were influenced to some degree by the styles of the major periods.

What are the theological implications related to the form and function of the sacred structures in the biblical material? The first is that God is the ultimate designer of Israel’s architecture. God’s signature work certainly is not the tabernacle or the Solomonic temple, but rather the created realm. The beauty and the complexities of the created world continue to draw attention to God’s beauty and intelligence. As the psalmist declares, the creation, which God designed, is a constant source of praise (Ps. 19).

God’s skill and artistic beauty as a master architect are reflected also in the revelation of his plans for the sacred structures of Israel to the nation’s artisans. The skill that the artisans manifested in the construction process was also a gift from God (Exod. 35:35; 2 Chron. 2:14).

The structures designed by God for construction were primarily for him. This is understandable because the patriarchal and Mosaic periods included long desert pilgrimages and the related tent dwelling. References to homes and houses in the book of Leviticus are not about design and construction but about function. The domestic home must be free of mildew (Lev. 14:34–41) and thus clean according to the standards of the law. The construction of Davidic and Solomonic homes is given attention in Scripture (2 Sam. 5:11; 7:1; 1 Kings 7:1–12).

The tabernacle and the temple were divine residences (Exod. 30:6; 40:34; 2 Sam. 7:5; 1 Kings 8:11). For this reason, the design and function of each structure reflected the glorious worth of God and reminded the nation of its own uncleanness. Beyond the structures of temple and tabernacle, the city of Jerusalem was privileged to be the resting place of the “Name” (i.e., presence) of the Lord (2 Chron. 6:5–6) and to have David as the chosen ruler (2 Chron. 6:34).

The history of Israel reveals that the sustainability of these sacred structures was influenced by physical and spiritual factors. God occupied the structures or met with Israel at these sacred places as long as Israel conformed to the terms of the Mosaic covenant (1 Sam. 4:21; 1 Kings 9:6–9). During the monarchy, kings who departed from Torah would strip the temple to pay tribute to foreign overlords (2 Kings 24:13) or would modify the function of the structure to accommodate the worship of foreign gods (see 2 Kings 23). Although there were periodic times of rebuilding the sacred structures, sustainability was short lived. The ideology of the sacred structures anticipates a future time when their original function will be replaced with the opportunity to live in God’s presence forever.

New Testament

The NT refers only rarely to architects or architecture. Hebrews 11:10 speaks of God as the “architect [technitēs] and builder” of the heavenly Jerusalem. Paul refers to the church as the temple of God. Jesus Christ is the foundation, and Christian leaders are building upon that foundation with either gold, silver, and costly stones or wood, hay, and straw (1 Cor. 3:10–17; cf. 6:19; 2 Cor. 6:16).

In terms of physical buildings, the church of the NT was a house church. During the time of Christ the significant architectural structures were the temple and synagogues. Herod the Great was the major builder of the time, whose impressive temple dominated the landscape of the Jerusalem area. Although the synagogue was a central structure during the life of Christ and the early church, function is emphasized over form in the biblical material. The synagogue was a place for prayer, Scripture study, and the administration of justice (Luke 4:16–30; Acts 13:15; 14:1).

The focus of the NT is also on the church’s function instead of its architectural form. The church, however, prospered and grew in the context of a significant Hellenistic architectural period (300 BC to AD 300). In this period the Seleucids were responsible for establishing large Greek cities across western and central Asia. The primary construction material continued to be the mud-brick, which resulted in rapidly decaying buildings. Although cities continued to be laid out in a grid format, a more dynamic, hilly format was being introduced. The homes in these cities often were built with courtyards like ones in Mesopotamia and Egypt. The temples of the Hellenistic period were designed with landscaping and terracing, along with porticoed enclosures and stairways.

The book of Revelation closes the canon with extensive detail about the new city of Jerusalem, which God will design and build (Rev. 21) and which will function to serve his sovereign purposes as creator and redeemer.

Architecture is the technology and the art of design and construction. The technology of architecture includes an understanding of mathematical and engineering principles; the art of architecture focuses attention on interest and beauty in design. The creative imagination of the architect is constantly considering how to artfully manage form and function in the design and construction process.

Architecture and the Bible

The term “architecture” does not occur in most English translations of the Bible. There is, however, evidence of and reference to the architectural activity of God’s people. In addition, Israel and the church were contextualized in significant architectural periods (Egyptian, Assyrian, Greek, and Roman), so the major empires of the biblical period often influenced the design and construction of cities, temples, and structures referenced in the biblical text. Architecture offers biblical studies a way to better understand the historical intentions of the Bible. By means of architectural investigation, the history and the heritage of past civilizations are illuminated. As a result, our reading of the biblical text is enhanced.

When we investigate the biblical text with attention to the technology and art of architecture, two perspectives emerge. First, architecture draws our attention to the background of the biblical text. In certain biblical texts we learn about the design and the construction that took place in Egypt, Assyria, and Palestine during major biblical events. For example, the patriarchal and Mosaic periods occurred during times of expansion and development in the Eighteenth to Twentieth Dynasties of Egypt (i.e., New Kingdom, sixteenth to eleventh centuries BC). For these periods, we gain knowledge about capital relocations along with temple and pyramid constructions. We learn that during the conquest, Israel took over existing Canaanite cities in keeping with the Mosaic policies. The architecture of Palestine enables us to better understand the form and function of these infrastructures.

Second, architecture draws our attention to the theological implications of the form and function of structures designed by God. In keeping with the scope of architecture, we are forced to understand that what God designed for altars, the ark, the tabernacle, and the temples of the past and the future included more than just the functional requirements of a nation’s religious system. The interpreter of the biblical text must consider how the design of these structures elicits response and communicates meaning. These structures are also windows on the social, political, and economic aspects of the Israelite nation.

Old Testament

Cities and fortifications. The biblical rec­ord makes reference to architectural structures, materials, and furnishings. Cities are referenced frequently throughout the OT canon. The city is obviously the context for architectural expression. The cities of the Bible are not described in extensive detail. We learn that Cain was a city builder who named his work after his son Enoch. The architectural feature of cities mentioned most often is the city gates (Gen. 19:1; 23:10, 18; Deut. 17:5; Josh. 2:5; 7:5; 20:4; Judg. 5:8). This was an important place for city life and activity (Gen. 23:1; Prov. 31:31). There was also sinister activity at city gates. Abner, for example, was killed in the city gate (2 Sam. 3:22–30). In addition, executions for covenant violations were carried out at the city gate (Deut. 17:5). There was more than one city gate, as we learn from the postexilic construction activity of Ezra and Nehemiah.

Within the city there was a strong tower. The people of Babel used thoroughly baked bricks instead of stone and tar for mortar in order to build the city and the tower that was designed to reach to the heavens (Gen. 11:3–4). A city tower functioned as a place of refuge for the people within the city limits (Judg. 9:49–51).

Cities were protected by a wall system (Lev. 25:29) that also provided space for housing (Josh. 2:15). The conquest of Jericho recounts the familiar defeat of that city by the very unconventional destruction of its walls (Josh. 6:20). A city square is another feature of the city architecture (Judg. 19:15–17) that served the public needs of the community.

The biblical descriptions of Jerusalem offer a measure of insight into its architecture. During the rebuilding process in the postexilic period, Nehemiah comments on both the construction and the building materials (Neh. 2:8; 13:31; cf. Ezra 6:4) and the spacious nature of the city (Neh. 7:4). From another perspective, the psalmist comments, “Jerusalem is built like a city that is closely compacted together” (Ps. 122:3).

Beyond these textual details we learn through the writings of the prophets that cities are the subject of God’s wrath for covenant violation (Jer. 6:6; Hos. 11:6; Mic. 5:11). Despite this, the nation of Israel is not left without the hope of restoration. The prophets also anticipated the return of the people along with the restoration of the city infrastructure (Amos 9:14; Mal. 1:4).

The temple and sacred structures. The other architectural features referenced by the writers of Scripture include altars, the tabernacle, the tent of meeting, and the temple. The tent and the tabernacle were also outfitted with unique furniture items described in detail and expertly crafted. The construction projects of Solomon are detailed in 1 Kings 5–7. Solomon, like David, pursued his architectural ambitions. The book of Ezekiel gives extensive architectural detail for the construction of a future temple in which God will reign and rule (Ezek. 40–48).

The temple and royal residences were made of stone with cedar roofing. The chamber buildings that surrounded the temple were three stories high. The interior walls and ceilings were lined with cedar to cover all the stone (1 Kings 6:1–10). In all the construction details for the temple, the text does not elaborate on architectural style. Perhaps the builders were influenced to some degree by the styles of the major periods.

What are the theological implications related to the form and function of the sacred structures in the biblical material? The first is that God is the ultimate designer of Israel’s architecture. God’s signature work certainly is not the tabernacle or the Solomonic temple, but rather the created realm. The beauty and the complexities of the created world continue to draw attention to God’s beauty and intelligence. As the psalmist declares, the creation, which God designed, is a constant source of praise (Ps. 19).

God’s skill and artistic beauty as a master architect are reflected also in the revelation of his plans for the sacred structures of Israel to the nation’s artisans. The skill that the artisans manifested in the construction process was also a gift from God (Exod. 35:35; 2 Chron. 2:14).

The structures designed by God for construction were primarily for him. This is understandable because the patriarchal and Mosaic periods included long desert pilgrimages and the related tent dwelling. References to homes and houses in the book of Leviticus are not about design and construction but about function. The domestic home must be free of mildew (Lev. 14:34–41) and thus clean according to the standards of the law. The construction of Davidic and Solomonic homes is given attention in Scripture (2 Sam. 5:11; 7:1; 1 Kings 7:1–12).

The tabernacle and the temple were divine residences (Exod. 30:6; 40:34; 2 Sam. 7:5; 1 Kings 8:11). For this reason, the design and function of each structure reflected the glorious worth of God and reminded the nation of its own uncleanness. Beyond the structures of temple and tabernacle, the city of Jerusalem was privileged to be the resting place of the “Name” (i.e., presence) of the Lord (2 Chron. 6:5–6) and to have David as the chosen ruler (2 Chron. 6:34).

The history of Israel reveals that the sustainability of these sacred structures was influenced by physical and spiritual factors. God occupied the structures or met with Israel at these sacred places as long as Israel conformed to the terms of the Mosaic covenant (1 Sam. 4:21; 1 Kings 9:6–9). During the monarchy, kings who departed from Torah would strip the temple to pay tribute to foreign overlords (2 Kings 24:13) or would modify the function of the structure to accommodate the worship of foreign gods (see 2 Kings 23). Although there were periodic times of rebuilding the sacred structures, sustainability was short lived. The ideology of the sacred structures anticipates a future time when their original function will be replaced with the opportunity to live in God’s presence forever.

New Testament

The NT refers only rarely to architects or architecture. Hebrews 11:10 speaks of God as the “architect [technitēs] and builder” of the heavenly Jerusalem. Paul refers to the church as the temple of God. Jesus Christ is the foundation, and Christian leaders are building upon that foundation with either gold, silver, and costly stones or wood, hay, and straw (1 Cor. 3:10–17; cf. 6:19; 2 Cor. 6:16).

In terms of physical buildings, the church of the NT was a house church. During the time of Christ the significant architectural structures were the temple and synagogues. Herod the Great was the major builder of the time, whose impressive temple dominated the landscape of the Jerusalem area. Although the synagogue was a central structure during the life of Christ and the early church, function is emphasized over form in the biblical material. The synagogue was a place for prayer, Scripture study, and the administration of justice (Luke 4:16–30; Acts 13:15; 14:1).

The focus of the NT is also on the church’s function instead of its architectural form. The church, however, prospered and grew in the context of a significant Hellenistic architectural period (300 BC to AD 300). In this period the Seleucids were responsible for establishing large Greek cities across western and central Asia. The primary construction material continued to be the mud-brick, which resulted in rapidly decaying buildings. Although cities continued to be laid out in a grid format, a more dynamic, hilly format was being introduced. The homes in these cities often were built with courtyards like ones in Mesopotamia and Egypt. The temples of the Hellenistic period were designed with landscaping and terracing, along with porticoed enclosures and stairways.

The book of Revelation closes the canon with extensive detail about the new city of Jerusalem, which God will design and build (Rev. 21) and which will function to serve his sovereign purposes as creator and redeemer.

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.”

Geography

Whereas the principal direction in the modern world is north, in the ancient world different cultures used a variety of orientations as they sought to describe their relationship to their geographical environment. In Israel the primary direction was determined by the sunrise: east. This is reflected in Hebrew, where the main word used to refer to east as a direction was qedem, which could also be used to simply refer to that which was directly ahead or in front of the speaker (e.g., Ps. 139:5). Elsewhere, east is designated by the terms mizrakh (“rising” [Josh. 11:3]) or mizrakh hashamesh (“rising of the sun” [Num. 21:11]), both of which derive from the direction of sunrise. By way of contrast, in Egypt the primary direction was south, in alignment with the source of the Nile River.

The ancient world employed the same notion of four cardinal directions, which persists to the present, and the terminology related to these was influenced by the choice of primary direction. Thus, in Israel north is often designated by “left”; south could be designated by “right,” and west by “behind.” In addition, directions could be specified by reference to geographical features found in those directions. North could be specified by the word tsapon, which was derived from the name of a northern Syrian mountain (Zaphon); south by negeb, a name for the region south of Israel (Negev); and west by yam (“sea”), since the Mediterranean Sea lay to the west.

Symbolism

Aside from their purely geographical significance, the directions also came to bear figurative significance. Some caution is warranted in assigning symbolic significance to language, for there is danger of reading invalid meanings into texts. Furthermore, given the ambiguity inherent in the use of terms to refer to directions, which also have alternate significances, there is danger of assigning a symbolic meaning to the direction that actually resides in the alternate. So, for example, while yam (“sea”) carries significant symbolic overtones in the Bible, this association does not appear to have been extended to encompass the term when used to designate a westerly direction.

East and west. Nonetheless, there is, for example, probably some significance in the expulsion from Eden and progressive movement eastward to the tower of Babel through Gen. 1–11, followed by a return to the promised land, which was approached by reversing the easterly migration and returning toward Eden. Eden itself was said to lie “in the east” (Heb. miqqedem; Gen. 2:8), although the same Hebrew expression in Pss. 74:12; 77:5, 11; 78:2; 143:5 means “in ancient times,” and there is perhaps a deliberate ambiguity in the use of the expression in Gen. 2:8. In Isa. 2:6 the east is the source of influences on the people that lead them astray. Following the exile, Ezekiel sees the glory of God returning to the temple from the east (Ezek. 43:1–2). Thus, when used symbolically, “east” is often viewed negatively or else may be used to mark a connection with distant antiquity (Gen. 2:8; Job 1:3). Any symbolic significance assigned to west appears primarily to be associated with it being the antithesis of east. The distance between east and west was used poetically to express vast distance (Ps. 103:12).

North and south. North is significant for two primary reasons. First, it is the direction from which invading armies most often descended upon Israel (Jer. 1:13) as well as from which Babylon’s destruction is said to come (Jer. 50:3). In light of this, Ezekiel’s vision of God approaching from the north strikes an ominous tone of impending judgment (Ezek. 1:1–4). Second, in Canaanite mythology the abode of the gods, and specifically Baal, lay to the north, on Mount Zaphon. Thus, the king of Babylon’s plans in Isa. 14:13 amount to a claim to establish himself as one of the gods. In contrast to this, Ps. 48:2 pre-sents Mount Zion as supplanting Mount Zaphon and thus implicitly presents Israel’s one God as supplanting the Canaanite pantheon.

As with west, there is little symbolic significance associated with the direction south in the Bible, aside from its use in combination with other directions.

The four directions. The four directions (or sometimes just pairs of directions) are used together to describe both the scattering of the Israelites as well as their being gathered by God back to the promised land (Ps. 107:3; Isa. 43:5–6; Luke 13:29). They are also used together to express the extent of the promised land (Gen. 13:14) or else to describe something that is all-encompassing (1 Chron. 9:24).

A geographical region in Mesopotamia south of the city of Nippur, Sumer is a site approximately seventy miles south of Baghdad on the banks of the Euphrates River. Sumer constitutes the southern portion of Babylonia, an area stretching as far north as Sippar. As such, in cuneiform documents, “Sumer” often occurs in tandem with “Akkad,” a term designating the northern portion of Babylonia.

The attributive adjective “Sumerian” is used in several historical and administrative texts to refer to a people coexisting among Akkadians and Gutians in southern Babylonia.

The language of the Sumerians is a linguistic isolate; there is no known related language. The fact that the earliest names for places in Babylonia are not Sumerian suggests that the Sumerians were not indigenous to the area. Speculations, with basis in literary and historical documents, place the origins of the Sumerians variously in the Indus region and Dilmun (approximately present-day Qatar). The earliest texts in Sumerian would place the presence of this group in southern Mesopotamia by the late fourth millennium BC.

The Sumerians, in the earlier stages of their political development, were organized as individual city-states, each under the auspices of a distinct deity of the Sumerian pantheon. The list of cities includes Uruk, Lagash, Eridu, Kish, Larsa, and Ur. Each city-state was under a governor (ensi), representing the perceived interests of a deity. External threats and internal competition led to the emergence of kings (lugal ) exercising hegemony over other city-states. Kish was of prominence in such capacity in early third millennium BC. Enmebaragesi, a ruler of Kish, established Nippur as the home of Enlil, a leading deity of the Sumerian pantheon. In subsequent years Uruk, Lagash, and other cities wrestled hegemony away from the hands of Kish. A Semitic ruler, Sargon I of Agade, conquered Sumer around 2360 BC; the Gutians subsequently took control of the region. A Sumerian renaissance, however, occurred under the leadership of Ur by the beginning of the second millennium. It was in this period that the multilevel temple complex of Ningal and Nanna, the ziggurat, was constructed. The system of irrigation was expanded, and achievements in literature, art, and architecture reached new heights. Under the eye of Shulgi, a ruler from the period, extensive reforms were undertaken in administrative and economic policy, substantially strengthening the stability and influence of Sumer. Toward the middle of the second millennium, Elamite aggression and the rise of Babylonia brought an end to Sumerian political independence.

There is a consensus that “Shinar” in the OT is derived from an Akkadian term for “Sumer.” The use of this term in the context of Israel’s exile (see NIV mg. for Isa. 11:11; Dan. 1:2; Zech. 5:11), however, suggests that it refers to the geographical region of Babylonia as a whole (so the NIV). Connotations of displacement, geographical and cultural, and religious heterodoxy (Gen. 10:10; 11:2), from an Israelite perspective, accrue to the term.

A geographical region in Mesopotamia south of the city of Nippur, Sumer is a site approximately seventy miles south of Baghdad on the banks of the Euphrates River. Sumer constitutes the southern portion of Babylonia, an area stretching as far north as Sippar. As such, in cuneiform documents, “Sumer” often occurs in tandem with “Akkad,” a term designating the northern portion of Babylonia.

The attributive adjective “Sumerian” is used in several historical and administrative texts to refer to a people coexisting among Akkadians and Gutians in southern Babylonia.

The language of the Sumerians is a linguistic isolate; there is no known related language. The fact that the earliest names for places in Babylonia are not Sumerian suggests that the Sumerians were not indigenous to the area. Speculations, with basis in literary and historical documents, place the origins of the Sumerians variously in the Indus region and Dilmun (approximately present-day Qatar). The earliest texts in Sumerian would place the presence of this group in southern Mesopotamia by the late fourth millennium BC.

The Sumerians, in the earlier stages of their political development, were organized as individual city-states, each under the auspices of a distinct deity of the Sumerian pantheon. The list of cities includes Uruk, Lagash, Eridu, Kish, Larsa, and Ur. Each city-state was under a governor (ensi), representing the perceived interests of a deity. External threats and internal competition led to the emergence of kings (lugal ) exercising hegemony over other city-states. Kish was of prominence in such capacity in early third millennium BC. Enmebaragesi, a ruler of Kish, established Nippur as the home of Enlil, a leading deity of the Sumerian pantheon. In subsequent years Uruk, Lagash, and other cities wrestled hegemony away from the hands of Kish. A Semitic ruler, Sargon I of Agade, conquered Sumer around 2360 BC; the Gutians subsequently took control of the region. A Sumerian renaissance, however, occurred under the leadership of Ur by the beginning of the second millennium. It was in this period that the multilevel temple complex of Ningal and Nanna, the ziggurat, was constructed. The system of irrigation was expanded, and achievements in literature, art, and architecture reached new heights. Under the eye of Shulgi, a ruler from the period, extensive reforms were undertaken in administrative and economic policy, substantially strengthening the stability and influence of Sumer. Toward the middle of the second millennium, Elamite aggression and the rise of Babylonia brought an end to Sumerian political independence.

There is a consensus that “Shinar” in the OT is derived from an Akkadian term for “Sumer.” The use of this term in the context of Israel’s exile (see NIV mg. for Isa. 11:11; Dan. 1:2; Zech. 5:11), however, suggests that it refers to the geographical region of Babylonia as a whole (so the NIV). Connotations of displacement, geographical and cultural, and religious heterodoxy (Gen. 10:10; 11:2), from an Israelite perspective, accrue to the term.

The genealogy of Noah’s sons in Gen. 10:1–32, which includes not only individuals but also names of places and nations.

Context and purpose. The Table of Nations follows the account of Noah and his sons after they emerged from the ark, developing the theme that from these three sons “came the people who were scattered over the whole earth” (Gen. 9:19). The story of the tower of Babel (11:1–9), placed after the Table of Nations, also continues the theme of the scattering of the earth’s population, showing that it occurred as a judgment from God. Thus, the purpose of the Table of Nations in Gen. 10 is to detail how Noah’s family multiplied and populated the earth as God intended, as well as to explain how this one family eventually scattered into a world consisting of many languages, tribes, and nations.

Although the chapter is presented as a genealogy of Noah’s family, it is not a “linear” genealogy, listing one descendant per generation with the primary purpose of tracing ancestry (as in Gen. 5; 11), but is rather a “segmented” genealogy, listing multiple individuals of the same generation with the goal of identifying political, geographic, and ethnic affiliations.

Structure and content. Although Gen. 10 first lists Noah’s sons as Shem, Ham, and Japheth, the genealogy proper commences with Japheth (vv. 1–5), then Ham (vv. 6–20), with Shem at the end (vv. 21–31). This arrangement highlights the importance of Shem’s line and foreshadows Gen. 11, which reveals that Abram was descended from Shem. Each section ends with a similar statement summarizing how each family has been categorized by its clans, languages, territories, and nations (10:5, 20, 31).

The Table of Nations lists fourteen Japhethites, some from northern Iran (Madai = Media), Turkey (Javan = Ionians), and the Mediterranean islands (Elishah in Cyprus). Among Ham’s thirty-one descendants are people from Ethiopia (Cush), Libya (Put), Egypt (Mizraim), and Canaan. The twenty-six Shemites include some from Babylonia (Elam), Assyria (Ashur), and the Arabian Peninsula (Joktan).

God the Worker

A biblical theology of work starts with God as the creator of all things. In the OT, the verb bara’ (“to create”) is used only with God as subject. The first verb in the Bible (Gen. 1:1), it occurs also in many other texts that describe God accomplishing what only God can do. Other terms such as yatsar (“to form, fashion”) and ’asah (“to make, do”) are used numerous times throughout the OT with either God or humans as subjects.

These three terms reinforce the portrayal of God as worker in Gen. 1–2 (cf. Isa. 45:7). God creates light and darkness; sky and earth; sun, moon, and stars; land and sea; plant and animal life; and humankind—in sum, all that is. He forms the “man” (Heb. ’adam) from the dust of the ground, bringing him to life by breathing into him the breath of life.

Elsewhere in the OT God is said to build, build up, or rebuild/restore (Heb. banah [e.g., Pss. 102:16; 147:2; Jer. 24:6; Amos 9:11]). Interestingly, God takes a rib from the man, which he then makes (lit., “builds into” [Heb. banah + le]) a woman (Gen. 2:22). He founds (Heb. kun) the earth (Isa. 45:18) and stretches out (Heb. natah) the heavens (Zech. 12:1). Further, wisdom is God’s “craftsman” (Heb. ’amon), taking part in the world’s creation (Prov. 8:30). The NT reveals Christ as the one through whom God creates all things (John 1:1–3; Col. 1:16). This brief sketch suggests the range of ways in which God’s work is described.

Human Labor

Ideally, work is performed as service to God (Col. 3:17, 22–24). Work is one way we express the divine image. God’s creation mandate to fill, subdue, and rule the earth implies work (Gen. 1:26–28), and God places the man in the garden “to work it and take care of it” (Gen. 2:15). The importance of work for human dignity as well as survival undergirds the laws of gleaning that make provision for the poor to gather their own food (e.g., Deut. 24:19–22). The expansion of human technologies and occupations (mela’kah [see Exod. 12:16]) reflects that dignity and God’s own diverse workmanship. Job 28 celebrates human industry and achievement while subordinating all to the prevailing value of wisdom, rooted in “the fear of the Lord.” Given the indispensable role of work within the limits of human life, diligence is commended (Eccles. 3:9–10), idleness condemned (Prov. 10:4; 12:24; 21:5; 2 Thess. 3:6–10). Work is essentially God’s good gift to us in creation.

But work now has negative aspects. In response to Adam’s sin, God curses the ground, introducing “painful toil” into the work cycle (Gen. 3:17–19; 5:29). We now eke out our living by hardship, finding frustration instead of bounty—a lifelong reminder that we are made of dust and will return to dust. The book of Ecclesiastes echoes this note of futility and raises sharp questions about the lasting value of human labor (1:2–3, 14; 2:4–11, 17–23; 3:9; 4:4–6; 8:16–17). Sin and death haunt the unfolding occupations in Gen. 4, and the episode of the tower of Babel in Gen. 11 signals God’s judgment on human pretension (cf. James 4:13–16). Excessive toil (workaholism) is a pitfall, not a virtue, for it expresses reliance on self rather than on God, who builds, protects, and gives rest (Ps. 127:1–2). Oppressive, unjust working conditions are cause for lament, and they incur God’s judgment (Exod. 5:6–19; Prov. 14:31; James 5:4–6).

Thus, Israel’s labor policy is to reflect God’s covenant faithfulness, generosity, and concern for the vulnerable. Moses’ law places limits on employers/masters to protect employees, slaves, and foreign workers from exploitation. The primary limit is God’s command that Israel keep the Sabbath holy by a complete cessation of labor (Exod. 20:8–11; Deut. 5:12–15). This move prioritizes God’s covenant above human labor and sets a rhythm of work and rest. Exodus grounds the Sabbath in God’s rest from his work of creation on the seventh day. Deuteronomy ties it to Israel’s history of slavery in Egypt and deliverance by God; by keeping the Sabbath, Israel shows gratitude to God and guards against replicating Egypt’s oppressive policies.

Exodus 31–32 portrays work in its best and worst lights. The proper interplay of work and rest is seen in chapter 31, which narrates the divinely empowered work on the tabernacle, followed by a strong reminder to keep the Sabbath as a “sign” between God and Israel. In contrast, chapter 32 portrays artisanship put to the worst use, the making of a golden idol. Aaron fashions gold with a tool and makes the calf image, but later he tells Moses, “I threw [their gold jewelry] into the fire, and out came this calf!” (32:24). This remark anticipates the prophets’ later mockery of idol-makers (e.g., Isa. 44:9–20) and raises the issue of personal responsibility for the outcome of one’s labor: Aaron seeks to avoid being implicated in Israel’s idolatry by concealing his own role in the project.

Public labor issues increase in complexity when Israel adopts human kingship and engages in international trade (e.g., 1 Sam. 8; 1 Kings 9:15–23). Babylon deals a decisive blow to Judah’s statehood by deporting leaders and skilled workers. Many of these establish such viable, productive new lives in Babylon that when Cyrus later allows the exiled Judeans to return, they choose to remain.

The NT assumes the legitimacy of work and adopts the OT’s view that within proper limits work is a good gift of God. Jesus, however, has come to do his Father’s “work” (John 5:16–18), which entails calling some people away from their normal occupations to follow him, as well as a new approach to Sabbath observance (Mark 2:21–27; 3:4). These moves signal the urgency and newness of the kingdom of God. Consequently, the apostles are “co-workers in God’s service” (1 Cor. 3:9), and Christians are “God’s handiwork” (Eph. 2:10). In light of the resurrection, we offer to God work (Gk. ergon) and labor (Gk. kopos), not in futility but in hope (1 Cor. 15:58; cf. Rev. 14:13).

Geography

Whereas the principal direction in the modern world is north, in the ancient world different cultures used a variety of orientations as they sought to describe their relationship to their geographical environment. In Israel the primary direction was determined by the sunrise: east. This is reflected in Hebrew, where the main word used to refer to east as a direction was qedem, which could also be used to simply refer to that which was directly ahead or in front of the speaker (e.g., Ps. 139:5). Elsewhere, east is designated by the terms mizrakh (“rising” [Josh. 11:3]) or mizrakh hashamesh (“rising of the sun” [Num. 21:11]), both of which derive from the direction of sunrise. By way of contrast, in Egypt the primary direction was south, in alignment with the source of the Nile River.

The ancient world employed the same notion of four cardinal directions, which persists to the present, and the terminology related to these was influenced by the choice of primary direction. Thus, in Israel north is often designated by “left”; south could be designated by “right,” and west by “behind.” In addition, directions could be specified by reference to geographical features found in those directions. North could be specified by the word tsapon, which was derived from the name of a northern Syrian mountain (Zaphon); south by negeb, a name for the region south of Israel (Negev); and west by yam (“sea”), since the Mediterranean Sea lay to the west.

Symbolism

Aside from their purely geographical significance, the directions also came to bear figurative significance. Some caution is warranted in assigning symbolic significance to language, for there is danger of reading invalid meanings into texts. Furthermore, given the ambiguity inherent in the use of terms to refer to directions, which also have alternate significances, there is danger of assigning a symbolic meaning to the direction that actually resides in the alternate. So, for example, while yam (“sea”) carries significant symbolic overtones in the Bible, this association does not appear to have been extended to encompass the term when used to designate a westerly direction.

East and west. Nonetheless, there is, for example, probably some significance in the expulsion from Eden and progressive movement eastward to the tower of Babel through Gen. 1–11, followed by a return to the promised land, which was approached by reversing the easterly migration and returning toward Eden. Eden itself was said to lie “in the east” (Heb. miqqedem; Gen. 2:8), although the same Hebrew expression in Pss. 74:12; 77:5, 11; 78:2; 143:5 means “in ancient times,” and there is perhaps a deliberate ambiguity in the use of the expression in Gen. 2:8. In Isa. 2:6 the east is the source of influences on the people that lead them astray. Following the exile, Ezekiel sees the glory of God returning to the temple from the east (Ezek. 43:1–2). Thus, when used symbolically, “east” is often viewed negatively or else may be used to mark a connection with distant antiquity (Gen. 2:8; Job 1:3). Any symbolic significance assigned to west appears primarily to be associated with it being the antithesis of east. The distance between east and west was used poetically to express vast distance (Ps. 103:12).

North and south. North is significant for two primary reasons. First, it is the direction from which invading armies most often descended upon Israel (Jer. 1:13) as well as from which Babylon’s destruction is said to come (Jer. 50:3). In light of this, Ezekiel’s vision of God approaching from the north strikes an ominous tone of impending judgment (Ezek. 1:1–4). Second, in Canaanite mythology the abode of the gods, and specifically Baal, lay to the north, on Mount Zaphon. Thus, the king of Babylon’s plans in Isa. 14:13 amount to a claim to establish himself as one of the gods. In contrast to this, Ps. 48:2 pre-sents Mount Zion as supplanting Mount Zaphon and thus implicitly presents Israel’s one God as supplanting the Canaanite pantheon.

As with west, there is little symbolic significance associated with the direction south in the Bible, aside from its use in combination with other directions.

The four directions. The four directions (or sometimes just pairs of directions) are used together to describe both the scattering of the Israelites as well as their being gathered by God back to the promised land (Ps. 107:3; Isa. 43:5–6; Luke 13:29). They are also used together to express the extent of the promised land (Gen. 13:14) or else to describe something that is all-encompassing (1 Chron. 9:24).

An important architectural form in the ancient Near East, the ziggurat was a stepped structure made of mud-brick and built on a raised platform. Similar to a pyramid, except with a platform at the top, the ziggurat was thought to span heaven and earth and as such was used as an artificial mountain for the worship of deities. Many believe that the tower of Babel was a ziggurat (Gen. 11:1–9).