Series Notes - Sovereign Grace Community Church

God With Us
An Examination of Sacred Space - Creation to Consummation
I.
Introduction – Discerning Sacred Space
It has often been stated that reality is what a person perceives it to be. While this assertion is not
objectively true, it does reflect the fact that every human being’s personal contact with and
comprehension of objective reality are the product of his own sensory and cognitive processes.
That is, personal awareness and comprehension of what is real are necessarily mediated through
and conditioned by the person’s own faculties.
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This is the reason for the Bible’s insistence that the capacity to accurately perceive and
interact with reality depends upon a properly functioning mind.
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It is the premise for Jesus’ familiar appeal, “If anyone has ears to hear, let him hear.”
The principle that reality is mediated to human consciousness is as true of spiritual realities as
natural ones. Just as a person’s perception of a flower is really only his brain’s construction of a
biochemical “image” from a sequence of electro-chemical signals, so also his discernment of
spiritual truth is mediated to him by the internal faculty of spiritual “sight” – a faculty which he
possesses by virtue of his created design, but which has become dysfunctional through the Fall.
A.
Eyes to See
Because of what transpired in Eden, human beings must be enabled to “see what is not seen” and
to “hear what is not heard.” When we look at a flower our sense is that we are seeing the flower
itself, but really our brains are simply presenting to our consciousness electro-chemical data
processed from a broad array of signals that originated with light striking cells on the back of our
eyes. We “see” only the things that reflect light within the energy spectrum that these specialized
cells are responsive to. Higher and lower energy levels are not detected, not because they don’t
exist, but because they exist outside of the range of our perception. In this regard reality is what
we perceive it to be; if something is imperceptible to our natural senses, for us it doesn’t exist.
This truth has crucial spiritual implications: As it is in the natural realm, spiritual realities are
“real” for us only when they are perceptible. But our spiritual faculties have become impaired;
just as damaged eyes are unable to properly receive and process energy within the visible
spectrum, so fallen man cannot properly receive and process the spiritual “data” that is everpresent and constantly presses itself upon his mind and soul. Like Elisha’s servant and Christ’s
hearers, we have to be given eyes to see and ears to hear (cf. 2 Kings 6:1-17; John 10:22-27).
With respect to the mere existence of the divine, the Bible and the human soul are in agreement.
Being created in God’s image, people are unable to escape their innate awareness of spiritual
realities. This is reflected in mankind’s ubiquitous and irrepressible religiosity. All people are
religious, though the way individuals and groups conceive religious “truth” and construct
religious frameworks differs greatly. (Even the atheist is religious in that he interacts with and
reaches conclusions regarding the notions of deity and spiritual reality.)
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Every human being is spiritually aware and has some conception of divine realities, and religious
systems are devised, not merely as a way to give formal definition to those realities, but more
importantly as the means for interacting with the divine. That is to say, every religious system
has its goal in making tangible what is spiritual and, therefore, intangible. And it does so for the
purpose of securing an interface between the divine and the human; all religion, whatever its
form, seeks to make present, comprehensible and accessible that which is “otherworldly.”
Fundamental to the way religion accomplishes this is the use of symbols and sacraments (sacred
rituals). Tangible entities (images, altars, temples, sacred objects, texts, etc.) and rituals (such as
sacrifices, prayers and incantations) are formulated and instituted for the purpose of providing a
bridge between the material and spiritual worlds. Spiritual realities are represented or symbolized
in physical form, and these physical constructs then provide tangible connection to the thing they
represent, making that thing present and accessible to human interaction through ritual.
This dynamic is clearly seen in the role of religious images and icons. Such things are
constructed as representations of particular entities, and the belief is that the physical
representation provides a point of interface between the worshipper and the entity itself. When a
person falls down before an image and offers his petition or praise to it, his conviction is that he
is actually communicating with the entity corresponding to the image.
Two things are evident from these considerations:
1.
The first is that, along with an innate awareness of divine reality, people also sense that
there exists a distance between them and the divine. The biblical explanation is that
every person instinctively senses his estrangement from the God whose image he bears,
though few ever give any substantive form to that subjective impression.
2.
As all people are innately aware of the divine and also sense a separation between them
and it (however those things may be conceived), they equally feel the “pressure” of the
need to bridge that separation. This is what religion is all about. Not surprisingly, as
people don’t think of the distance between them and the divine in terms of the biblical
concept of estrangement, neither do they view their efforts to close that distance in terms
of reconciliation. Far from seeking reconciliation in the biblical sense, human religion
seeks interaction with the divine for the sake of personal benefit.
As Paul walked through the city of Athens he was confronted with an endless array of temples
and sacred altars representing and dedicated to Greece’s pantheon of gods (Acts 17:16ff). Every
deity had its own physical symbols and sacraments which provided a point of interface for the
worshipper. Thus the Athenians went so far as to construct an altar to “an unknown god.” If such
a god existed, they wanted to be sure they could make contact with it and honor it in worship.
Paul recognized the perceived connection between physical symbols and the spiritual entities
they represented, and so rebuked the Athenians for believing that divine beings dwell in temples
constructed by men (17:24). The notion that human beings can make a god present among them,
accessible to them, and receptive to their petitions by devising symbolic and sacramental forms
is absurd on the face of it. But it is the essence of all human religion because of what transpired
in Eden. What man gained by his self-assertion is the delusion of mastery over the divine.
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This brief consideration of Paul’s interaction with the Athenians serves to connect the above
generic discussion with the present topic of the biblical theme of God’s dwelling place. If God
exists and wishes to make Himself known to men, He must enter into time and space in a way
that He becomes available to human faculties; the intangible must become tangible. As seen,
men employ symbols and sacraments in order to bridge the gap between them and the divine,
and, condescending to human limitations, God has, since the Fall, employed these same means in
making Himself known and present in human experience.
Religion is nothing more than man’s attempt to connect with the spiritual realities he innately
senses. Those realities – even when wrongly perceived or imagined – must be mediated to
human consciousness and understanding, and religion serves that end. It is no different with
man’s awareness of God: God is real, but He must be made real to human beings. He must
communicate Himself to them in a perceptible way – first, that they would know that He is, but,
more importantly, that He is accessible to them; that they are able to encounter Him.
This mediated knowledge of God begins at the level of doctrine. That is to say, it begins with the
cognitive awareness of who God is and where He “resides” as the Creator in relation to His
creation. But it goes beyond that: it rises to the level of personal experience, for authentic
knowledge is always experiential. In the end, the goal of human existence is communion with
God, and this involves more than simply knowing that He is; it involves being with Him where
He is. Thus the way the Christian perceives the unseen reality of God and His dwelling place will
determine the whole tenor of his life, not just as a Christian, but as a human being.
B.
Ears to Hear
Within the scope of theological revelation, the theme of God’s dwelling place arguably holds the
place of greatest irony. Because God’s habitation – its nature, form, and purpose – in relation to
His creation is basic to His interaction with it, it is also fundamental to every biblical,
theological, and doctrinal topic. And yet, it is undeniably one of the least considered and least
understood matters within the entire realm of Christian thought and study.
The thesis behind this study is that a truly biblical conception of the person and purpose of God,
as well as the nature, purpose, function and destiny of His creation, is impossible without a
correct understanding of the reality and role of the divine dwelling place, sometimes referred to
by the descriptive phrase, sacred space. And if this thesis is correct, it follows that the notion of
sacred space is foundational and absolutely crucial to an accurate understanding of all other
biblical doctrines. Whether one considers the doctrine of God, man (including the doctrine of
sin), Christ, salvation, the Holy Spirit, the Church, heaven, hell, or any other component of
biblical truth, each is vitally dependent upon and inseparably intertwined with the doctrine of
God’s dwelling place.
Undoubtedly some will regard these claims to be an instance of overstatement or overgeneralization, but soon enough such objections will be set aside. The appearance of
exaggeration is the result of Christians thinking simplistically and narrowly (if not incorrectly)
about the topic of God’s dwelling and its relation to His presence in and purpose for creation.
This is easily demonstrated by considering how Christians commonly conceive of heaven.
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1.
When Christians think of God’s habitation, they invariably think of a place called heaven.
This is not incorrect as far as it goes, but most have a conception of heaven that is, at
best, partial and indistinct; to that extent it is necessarily flawed. The common notion of
heaven is that it is an ethereal, spiritual place that exists somewhere “up there”; a place
where God sits on His throne and administers His rule over His creation while looking
down upon the earth and its people and activities. This conception is understandable
given that the Bible employs this sort of imagery in its portrayal of heaven.
a.
First of all, Scripture uses spatial – and most especially vertical – language to
speak of heaven. Notably, Hebrew and Greek each employ the same word to refer
to the sky, the realm of the celestial bodies, and the place of God’s habitation. But
this language is metaphorical, not literal: the “up there” representation of heaven
is intended to suggest the ideas of remoteness and superiority. Heaven is “above
the earth” in the sense that it is unearthly; it is a higher mode of reality.
The otherworldly quality of heaven is further emphasized by the strange and
unearthly images associated with it (cf. Ezekiel 1:4-28, 8:1-4, 10:1-22). Similarly,
its status as a higher realm or mode of reality is highlighted by the “enameled”
imagery the Bible uses to describe it. It is associated with glass, crystal, and
luminous metals such as bronze and gold. Even more, it is a jeweled realm,
marked by the radiance characteristic of precious gems (cf. Ezekiel 1; Revelation
4:1-6, 21:9-21). These things emphasize permanence (expressed by hardness and
durability) as well as glory (expressed by value, brilliance, and luminosity).
2.
b.
One important and obvious reason – though not the only reason – for representing
heaven as above the earth is the fact that it is God’s dwelling. Because He is “high
and lifted up,” so also is the place of His habitation (cf. Isaiah 6:1-3, 57:15).
c.
And because God dwells in heaven, it is the place from which He exercises the
various aspects of His rule over His creation. Thus heaven is portrayed in the
imagery of a temple and throne room (Psalm 11:1-4, 103:19; Isaiah 6:1-4, 66:1;
Ezekiel 1:26-28, 10:1-5; Daniel 7:1-10; Revelation 21:22-22:1-2; etc.).
d.
In keeping with heaven’s status as God’s habitation, the Bible uses the language
of obscurity and inaccessibility to describe it. It is a realm obscured from human
sight and removed from human access. Significantly, God must grant men both
the sight of it and entrance into it (cf. God’s presence at Sinai and the Holy of
Holies with Acts 7:54-56; Hebrews 11:8-16; Revelation 4:1, 15:5, 19:11, 21:25ff).
Heaven is God’s dwelling place, but specifically it is the realm in which God is present in
relation to His creation. Most importantly, it speaks not just to where God is, but how
He is with respect to His creation. With this understanding, two things should be obvious:
The first is that heaven is a biblical concept having greater scope and significance than
many Christians imagine. At the same time, God’s habitation must be conceived more
broadly than the place we call “heaven.” Otherwise, what are we to make of Moses’
declaration in Psalm 90:1 or the insistence of the writer to the Hebrews (12:22-24)?
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II.
Sacred Space in the First Creation
The reality of sacred space is an eternal conception in the sense that it speaks to God’s intention
regarding His relationship with His creation, and particularly His image-bearers. All that has
been “playing out” on the stage of history since the creation of the universe constitutes the
outworking of God’s eternal counsel (Ephesians 1:3-12), and sacred space – with all that
encompasses and implies – is at the heart of that determination.
It is often asserted that God’s ultimate intention in all things is the display and exaltation of His
own glory. Assuming that assertion to be true, it follows that God’s goal of self-glorification lies
behind His determination to create. But that, in turn, raises the question as to how the creation
brings glory to God, and few seem to give any real consideration to that issue.
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Is God glorified as He intends simply by virtue of the fact of creation – that by bringing
the universe into existence He displays His limitless power and creative wisdom?
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Even if that’s the extent of God’s purpose in creating, the question remains: Who does
God display His work to so as to be glorified by it? Is He glorified simply by the
recognition this creative act receives among the members of the Godhead, or is God
glorified in the acknowledgment that comes from the creation itself? If it is primarily the
latter, how does the creation make this acknowledgment? The inanimate and non-rational
creation testifies to God and His nature and power by the mere fact of its existence
(Romans 1:20), and in this sense it “glorifies” God. But even this existential testimony
must be received by someone or something else. In other words, to whom does the
creation testify of God – to God Himself or some other entity or being?
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Obviously God is aware of and receives the testimony provided by the creation, but from
eternity He has discerned the fullness of His own essential glory. Why, then, does He
need the creation to affirm what He already knows? One might conclude that the creation
glorifies God by testifying to the angelic hosts. But did God have to create a material
universe in order for these immaterial beings – creatures that stand in His very presence –
to discern and acknowledge His glory?
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The answer the Bible provides is that God is glorified in the creation, not simply by
reflection, but, more importantly, by redemption. That is, the created order does glorify
God by bearing witness to its Creator; the glory of the creation reflects the glory of the
One who brought it forth. It’s impossible to consider God’s works in creation without
being overwhelmed by His greatness, power, wisdom, and understanding.
But God’s purpose for the creation goes beyond that existential testimony. In biblical
terms, God is glorified when something other than Himself discerns and acknowledges
Him as He is. He is glorified not just when His works are known, but when He is known.
And while it is true that the creation makes God known at some level, that knowledge
falls far short of the biblical concept of knowledge. The reason is that the creational
witness speaks of God’s existence and certain of His attributes, but it says nothing of His
personhood; beyond that, it cannot make Him known in a relational way.
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God is glorified when He is known, and such knowledge is personal and relational. The
obvious implication is that God’s eternal purpose of self-glorification in creation
necessitates the creation of a personal being capable of a relationship with Him. And to
accomplish this goal God must communicate something of Himself to that being; He
must create “person from person” in order to be able to interact “person to person.”
Thus the centrality of man in the purpose and scheme of creation. God’s design to be
glorified in His creation was to be realized by creating a being in His own image and
likeness – a being suitable for God to communicate a true (albeit creaturely) knowledge
of Himself. And because all authentic knowledge is relational, God’s self-glorification –
realized in self-communication – has its focal point in His relationship with man.
But relationship implies intimacy; God must be present with His image-bearers to fulfill
His purpose in and for them. He must dwell among them if they are to know Him; hence
the necessity for and centrality of sacred space. From its opening words the Bible leaves
no doubt that this is its focus (as indeed it must be if this religious text is the revelation of
the personal Creator God). No sooner does the Scripture introduce the fact of the creation
than it moves to the core concerns in creation, all of which speak to God’s intention to
dwell with His image-sons – his intention with regard to sacred space.
A.
Essence of Sacred Space
At the outset the Bible introduces the motif of sacred space, and from that point forward it serves
as its core and unifying theme. (Many would argue that the kingdom of God is the preeminent
theme in the Scripture, but even this grand theme has its focus in sacred space.) The text begins
with an account of the creation, with God’s creative work culminating in His planting of a
garden in Eden. The man and woman were to reside there and, from that central place, fulfill
their creational mandate (Genesis 1:1-2:15). More importantly, this garden was created as a
sanctuary: the appointed place where God would meet with His image-bearers. As the location
where God first dwelled in relation to His creation, Eden was the first expression of sacred space.
Eden’s status as God’s dwelling place is evident less from the creation narrative itself than from
the way the rest of the Bible interprets and interacts with it. In particular, the Scripture assigns
two titles to Eden that identify it as the divine habitation: It is called both the mountain of God
and the garden of God. These titles, while referring to the physical Eden of the first creation,
serve importantly to connect it with other manifestations of sacred space. In this way the Bible
shows that Eden provides a foundational prototype of sacred space, one that will be drawn upon
and developed throughout the balance of biblical revelation.
1.
Eden as the Mountain of God
The title, “mountain of God,” is most often associated with Mount Horeb (Mount Sinai)
where Moses first encountered God in the burning bush and later received the covenant
on behalf of the sons of Israel (Exodus 3:1-2, 24:1-13; cf. 1 Kings 19:1-8). In this usage
the emphasis isn’t on God’s habitation as such, but rather the place where God meets
with men; the place where the divine and human are brought together (cf. Genesis 22:14).
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This same connotation is carried forward and further developed in the Bible’s treatment
of Mount Zion as the site of the temple in Jerusalem. It was there that the sons of Israel
met with Yahweh, and the prophets spoke of the day when all the nations would join
them. The point of that imagery is not that the whole world would literally journey to
Jerusalem, but that, in the fulfillment to come, all the nations would become worshippers
of the true and living God (Isaiah 66:20; Jeremiah 3:17; Micah 4:1-2). Jerusalem is so
closely linked with the “mount of God” that the terms are sometimes used synonymously
(ref. Isaiah 37:32, 66:20; Daniel 9:16; Joel 2:32, 3:17; Zechariah 8:3).
But within Ezekiel’s prophecy, the phrase “mountain of God” is used in relation to Eden
(ref. 28:11-16). This particular passage is set in a larger context in which God, through
His prophet, was proclaiming a lament over the king of Tyre in view of his city’s coming
destruction (26:1-28:19). God had determined to destroy this important Phoenician port
city because of its arrogant presumption that Jerusalem’s downfall at the hand of Babylon
(24:1-27) would serve its own profit (ref. 26:1-2).
a.
The lament of chapter 28 is directed toward the king of Tyre, but many see in this
historical account a symbolic representation of Adam’s (or Satan’s) fall. It is said
of the king that he had been in Eden and that he had borne the “seal of perfection”
as the “anointed cherub who covers.” It was only when arrogance and rebellion
welled up in him that he was cast off the holy “mountain of God” (ref. 28:14-16).
Thus the prophet’s description and condemnation of the king of Tyre – while
perfectly applicable to the historical figure identified in the lament, is also
suggestive of the dynamics of Adam’s fall in Eden (applying this passage to Satan
is much more problematic).
b.
But the point here is to note the correlation of Eden with the “mountain of God.”
Assuming a legitimate symbolic aspect to Ezekiel 28, when compared with the
corresponding Exodus passages it spotlights what is indirectly evident from the
creation narrative, namely that Eden – as sacred space – represented the place of
divine/human encounter. Exodus calls Horeb the “mountain of God,” and it was
there that God met with Moses, the sons of Israel, and later Ezekiel. But this
concept is also associated with Eden, implying that, in the initial creation, it was
the place of divine/human interaction. This conclusion is supported by details
within the first three chapters of Genesis, as will be seen.
The theme of the “mountain of God” – however limited and indirect may be its
association with Eden within the creation account – is hugely significant in the Bible’s
larger interaction with the concept of God’s dwelling place. Because mountains are high
places on the surface of the earth, they are appropriate symbols for God’s exalted
habitation. But they are also accessible to human ascent, and so are equally appropriate
for representing the idea of the divine/human encounter. Thus mountains and other “high
places” have historically played an important role in human religion, including in the
ancient Near East. This was as true of Israel and its worship of God as it was the other
nations of the Middle East (cf. Genesis 11:1-4, 12:8, 22:1-2; Exodus 3:1-12; Numbers
22:39-41, 33:51-52; 2 Chronicles 33:11-15; Ezekiel 6:13; etc.; cf. also John 4:19-20).
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Though God dwells in a “high and holy place,” He is not remote from men, but
“descends” to encounter them in the reality of their world and existence (Isaiah 57:15).
So He did on Mount Ararat (Genesis 8:1-22), on the mount in the land of Moriah
(Genesis 22:1ff), on Mount Sinai (Horeb) with Moses and the sons of Israel, and later on
Mount Zion in Jerusalem. So also the prophets spoke of the day of the Lord’s coming
when He would descend on the Mount of Olives (Zechariah 14:1-4) and, as the result of
His work of purging and renewal, His holy mountain would encompass the entire earth
(Daniel 2:24-35). In that day, Jerusalem – the mount of God – was to be the habitation of
all the nations (cf. Isaiah 11:9-10, 25:1-10, 56:1-8, 66:20 with Revelation 21:1ff).
2.
Eden as the Garden of God
As the “mount of God” speaks to the place where God and men are brought together, the
imagery of Eden as the “garden of God” complements that signification by introducing
the ideas of profusion, perfection, beauty, blessing, and satisfaction.
a.
The creation narrative describes Eden – and more narrowly, the garden that God
“planted” in Eden – as a place of fullness and all-sufficient provision; a place
where every human need is supplied with limitless and effortless abundance. It is
suggestive of life at its absolute fullest. Furthermore, the Garden is presented as
the habitation appointed for man and the center of the world. By fulfilling God’s
mandate – “Be fruitful, multiply, fill and subdue the earth,” the text implies that
mankind’s caretaking (2:15) would serve to extend the bounds of the garden
domain to the ends of the earth. And because man bears the divine image, his
numerical expansion would also serve to extend God’s presence in the earth.
b.
This imagery of perfection and fullness becomes more significant when the
Garden of Eden is recognized as a sanctuary – as the garden of God. Ezekiel’s
prophecy is again helpful (28:11-19), for in this passage the prophet specifically
refers to Eden under this title (cf. also 31:1-9; Isaiah 51:3). The phrase, “garden of
God,” could mean simply the garden planted by God, but other considerations
indicate that it should be taken to mean the garden that is God’s dwelling place.
First of all, the creation narrative has God walking back and forth in the Garden,
and the grammar suggests His familiar presence there. This sense is reinforced by
Adam’s and Eve’s ejection from Eden. Their disobedience brought estrangement,
and the text spotlights their spiritual separation from God by noting their
expulsion from God’s garden, enforced by His attending cherubim (Genesis 3:8,
22-24, cf. 4:16; also Isaiah 2:2-3; 2 Thessalonians 1:9-10; Revelation 22:14-15).
Furthermore, the language and imagery of Eden are employed and developed
throughout the Scripture in reference to appointed places where God dwells with
His people. So it was with Canaan (cf. Exodus 3:8 and Joel 2:1-3 with Exodus
15:11-17, 25:1-8) and the temple (1 Kings 6:18ff; 7:18ff), and so it is with the
new creation (Isaiah 4:2-6, 51:3, 65:13-25, 66:18ff; Jeremiah 31:1-12; Ezekiel
36:33-36; Hosea 2:14-23; Amos 9:11-15; cf. Revelation 21:1-3 with 22:1-19).
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B.
Form of Sacred Space
Though the concept of sacred space has to do with God’s dwelling place, it is a creational reality;
it is the realm in which God is present in relation to His creation. Given the time-space
constraints of the created order, sacred space refers to a place of encounter between the Creator
and the creation – a “place” in time and space in which God makes Himself comprehensible and
accessible to His creatures. As seen, this idea is the heart of the “mountain of God” imagery,
which itself highlights the fact that it’s God’s presence that makes sacred space “holy ground.”
But this mountain imagery also points to the centrality of man in the notion of sacred space; in
every one of its expressions, the mountain of God is the place where men encounter God.
The creation account in the first two chapters of Genesis affirms that man is the focal point of the
Creator-creature encounter, God having created humans as personal beings in His own image
and likeness for the purpose of person-to-person relationship. All things were created by God
and bear the stamp of their Creator, and in that sense everything finds its identity and
significance in relation to Him. But this is uniquely and preeminently true of man.
Man is not simply a uniquely rational being created by a Creator God; he bears the image of his
divine Creator. And this means more than that human beings possess certain of God’s qualities:
Man is the image-son (Luke 3:38), enjoying a creational identity and relational status shared by
no other created thing, not even the angelic hosts.
Being created as a son, human beings find their identity and significance in relation to God in a
way that transcends the rest of the creation. Only man relates to the Creator as Father. The most
profound implication of these truths is that man’s sense of himself depends absolutely on his
sense of God; since he is the image-son, to know himself he must know God.
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No human being can arrive at an accurate self-knowledge by making himself the point of
reference, though this is precisely what every person does by nature and default.
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Self-knowledge (and therefore self-realization) is the by-product of knowing God –
knowing Him not in a speculative or informational way, but in a relational way.
What this means is that sacred space is “man-ward” as much as “God-ward.” In the divinehuman encounter, relationship is established and nurtured, and in the context of that
relationship man realizes his own humanity, both objectively and experientially. As it pertains to
human beings, this dynamic is the heart of the reality the Bible calls “shalom.”
1.
Shalom
In the creation account, the biblical text is careful to attach God’s imprimatur to every
stage of His creative activity. Moving through the process of creation, God repeatedly
pronounced the fruit of His labor to be “good.” And that divine stamp of approval reaches
its apex with the completion of the creation: As God stood back and considered what He
had accomplished, He pronounced it all to be “very good” (Genesis 1:31). This goodness
signifies more than the absence of fault or “badness”; it speaks to the principle of shalom.
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a.
The Hebrew term shalom is most often translated by the English noun “peace,”
but it means much more than the usual connotation attached to that idea. In a
world defined in every respect by enmity, the biblical concept of “shalom” is both
foreign and elusive. At the personal and communal level people speak of and
work for peace, but the peace they envision is essentially the cessation of open
conflict. Nations are said to be “at peace” when they are not threatened with or
engaged in armed conflicts, and individual persons “live in peace” with others
when they coexist in a friendly or civil manner. But civility, tolerance, and
mutuality have nothing per se to do with peace. The reason is that all “peaceful”
human relations are set in the context of fundamental human estrangement.
As noted previously, there is no self-knowledge or authentic human existence
apart from relational connection to God, and every person comes into this world
estranged from Him. Being estranged from the One whose image they bear,
people are hopelessly estranged from themselves. Being unable to discern what it
means to be human, they know neither themselves nor anyone else: Selfalienation insures mutual alienation. What this means is that all human
relationships – at all levels – are dysfunctional and perverse. This is made worse
by the fact that the underlying cause is imperceptible to the natural mind. People
cannot diagnose the true problem and therefore have no hope for a genuine cure.
And so, while the relational virtues of civility, tolerance, deference, respect, etc.
are attainable in human relationships, estrangement and enmity continue to define
and dominate the human heart. What presents itself on the surface belies and
distracts from the reality that resides within. For creatures defined by
estrangement, “peace” can only be realized in terms of unexpressed discord.
But shalom is much more than suppressed conflict; fundamentally it connotes
integrity or wholeness, and when considered in relation to the created order, it
refers to the perfection and blessedness of creational harmony. Viewed
comprehensively, shalom is the condition in which every created thing finds itself
in perfect conformity to itself and its created function. In turn, this full and
faultless self-conformity expresses itself in inter-creational harmony: When a
given thing is perfectly conformed to its own created nature and function, it
equally exists in perfect harmony with everything else. This is because of the
inherent interrelation and interdependence God designed into the created order.
Every created thing exists and functions in relation to all other things, and most
especially to God Himself. This all-encompassing creational harmony is the very
essence of shalom.
“The webbing together of God, humans, and all creation in justice, fulfillment,
and delight is what the Hebrew prophets call shalom… In the Bible, shalom
means universal flourishing, wholeness, and delight… In a shalomic state each
entity would have its own integrity or structured wholeness, and each would also
possess many edifying relations to other entities.”
(Cornelius Plantinga, Not the Way It’s Supposed to Be)
10
b.
2.
Given its biblical significance, it’s no surprise that shalom was the defining
characteristic of the first creation. The “shalomic” character of the created order is
succinctly expressed in God’s assessment that, in its totality, His creation was
“very good.” At that time everything existed as it was created to be, both in itself
and in relation to every other thing. Shalom described the character of the entire
creation, but much more narrowly the sacred space of Eden. In a preeminent way,
sacred space is shalomic space. Two considerations prove this out:
1)
First, the creation account reveals that God’s intention was to mediate His
lordship over His creation through man, His image-son. That is to say,
man was created to be the point of interface between God and the rest of
His creation. As the “son of God,” man is also vice-regent, commissioned
at the outset to administer his Creator/Father’s rule over His creatures.
(Importantly, the Fall didn’t abrogate this commission, even as it didn’t
bring the end of man as man – cf. Genesis 1:26-28 and 9:1-3.) This
creational charge reflects the comprehensive relational structure between
God, man, and the created order, and this structure, in turn, indicates the
shalomic character of the original creation. All was harmonious and
perfectly ordered, and this blessedness had its focal point in Eden – the
place where God and Adam dwelled together as Father and son and from
which mankind was to exercise the Creator’s lordship over His creation.
2)
Secondly, the shalomic quality of sacred space is evident in the Bible’s
description of Eden as the “garden of God.” Being the place where God
resided with man in the perfect intimacy of a Father and son, its relational
(and creational) perfection is expressed in the garden imagery of beauty,
abundance, blessing, and full satisfaction. Within the garden all was
harmonious. If the essence of sacred space is the divine-human encounter,
the all-encompassing perfection of that encounter is the essence of shalom.
Shabbat
“Shabbat” is the English transliteration of the Hebrew word most often rendered sabbath.
The basic idea embodied in this term is cessation, either in sense of severing or truncating
something or desisting from a course of action. It occurs first in the Bible as a verb
having reference to God’s completion of His work of creation (Genesis 2:2-3). Two
things, in particular, are important about this first occurrence of the sabbath idea.
a.
The first is the association of shabbat with the seventh day. The creation sequence
is partitioned into six panels followed by a seventh that is characterized by
completion (cessation). God had fully accomplished His work of creation and the
seventh day serves in the text to mark the introduction of a new reality. The
seventh day doesn’t commemorate the six days of creation, but testifies to a new
state of things defined by completion. In response to this new reality God
pronounced His blessing upon it and sanctified it. Notably – and contrary to the
conviction of many – God doesn’t here command the man to sanctify (set apart)
the seventh day; rather, the whole of the creation simply enters into it.
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b.
The significance of the seventh day is made more evident by its perpetuity. The
conspicuous absence of the transitional “evening and morning” formula in
relation to the seventh day strongly suggests that the reader is to view the seventh
day as unending. The implication is that the sabbatical nature of the seventh day
defined the creational structure and order God had put in place. As completed by
God, the creation was to exist, and so also be recognized, as a sabbath reality.
“The end of God’s creative work brought about a new type of time, blessed and
set aside [sanctified], presumably in order that what was created could now be.
The Seventh Day was to be a day for fruitfulness, for dominion, for relationship.”
(New Dictionary of Biblical Theology, emphasis in original)
This understanding of the seventh day may at first appear foreign or strained,
especially to those accustomed to thinking in terms of literal days and the notion
of a weekly Sabbath observance. But it is clear that this text doesn’t establish a
Sabbath ordinance; it simply defines the seventh day as “post-creation” time
characterized by cessation arising from completion and perfection (ref. again
Genesis 1:31-2:3). In the Bible, the number seven indicates fullness, completion,
and perfection; as such, it is the number of shalom. Thus God commended and
sanctified the seventh day: He set apart for Himself and the praise of His glory
the shalomic perfection He had so marvelously brought about.
3.
Shalom and Shabbat in Sacred Space
When considered together in relation to the creation account, the following relationship
emerges between the concepts of “shalom” and “shabbat”: Shabbat serves to testify to
shalom. The greatest attestation God could give to the absolute and harmonious
perfection of His creation was the cessation of all further creative activity. Shalom
signifies that “it is finished,” and this completion is proclaimed through shabbat. One day
these words would be uttered again – this time with regard to a shalomic reality that
would endure forever with nothing more to be done (cf. John 19:30; Revelation 21:1-7).
The fact that God sanctified a perpetual “day” defined by cessation clearly shows the
sabbatical nature of His shalomic creation. But this understanding is further reinforced by
the way these ideas develop in the progress of salvation history.
a.
The first thing to note in this regard is Israel’s sabbatical existence in Canaan. It
was seen previously that Canaan serves as a type of Eden. It was portrayed to the
Israelites as a land of unparalleled abundance, well-being, and divine provision
(cf. Exodus 3:8; Numbers 13:17-27; Deuteronomy 6:10-12, 8:7-9; etc.). Most
importantly it was to be God’s sanctuary – the place where He would dwell with
His people as their covenant Father/Husband (cf. Exodus 15:17, 25:1-8; also
Ezekiel 16:1-14 and Hosea 11:1). Yahweh’s “son” Israel was to possess Canaan
as a garden-sanctuary, and the son’s existence there was to be distinguished by the
principle of shabbat: Not only did the Lord appoint the weekly Sabbath ordinance
for Israel, He ordered their entire relationship with Him around “sabbath.”
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1)
God drew upon His own creational sabbath in establishing Israel’s weekly
Sabbath, and they were to regard it as a day of rest to provide
refreshment from labor. For this reason it pertained to beast and man
alike, both the sons of Israel and the sojourner among them (cf. Exodus
20:8-11, 23:12, 31:12-17; Deuteronomy 5:12-14).
2)
But Israel’s sabbath institution also introduced the notion of rest as a
consequence of redemption (Deuteronomy 5:15). Israel was to sanctify the
seventh day as a sabbath in recognition that God’s redemption had given
them rest from their laborious bondage. The principle of sabbath as
redemptive rest was further expressed in the ordinance of Jubilee. Every
seventh year the land was to be given a sabbath rest in which it would lie
fallow (Leviticus 25:1-7). After seven such seventh-year sabbaths had
elapsed, the fiftieth year was to be a year of complete release in Israel – a
kind of “sabbath of sabbaths” in which everything and everyone was
released from its encumbrance (Leviticus 25:8-17).
3)
The Old Covenant sabbatical principle extended beyond the weekly
observance to a whole host of ceremonial sabbaths associated with Israel’s
feasts and sacrifices (ref. Leviticus 16:29-31, 23:4-8, 24-25, 35-39), and
beyond that to sabbaths pertaining to the land and all its inhabitants. But at
the heart of all sabbath observance was the principle of sanctification
(Ezekiel 20:12, 20). “Shabbat” as sanctification defined Israel’s life in
Canaan for the simple reason that Canaan was God’s sanctuary; Israel’s
presence there testified that Yahweh had set them apart to Himself.
Israel’s sabbatical ordinances were interwoven with various themes and attested
to various related principles, but together they called God’s creation – man, beast,
and land, to live in a sabbath reality of devotion and worship. If Israel’s existence
in Canaan was intended by God to represent a prototypical return of man to His
garden-sanctuary – and it was – then Israel’s sabbatical life there represented a
prototypical restoration of the sabbatical character of Eden and the first creation.
b.
The second thing that confirms the shalomic and sabbatical form of sacred space
is the typological nature of the first creation. Adam’s and Eve’s quest for
autonomy brought the devastation of shalom and, with it, the end of man’s
participation in God’s shabbat. They were expelled from Eden and consigned to
an existence characterized by discord, hardship, and agonizing labor (Genesis
3:16-19). But in the midst of the curse God had also promised restoration, and
from that point forward the biblical account is single-minded and relentless in
setting the stage for that fulfillment. With ever-increasing clarity and eagerness
the Old Testament continues to reiterate the promise of a sabbath day to come. In
that day the entire creation would be brought into the shalomic perfection that the
first creation merely portrayed and provided a foretaste of. And in the brightness
of its rising, the New Jerusalem – the all-encompassing holy mountain and
garden-sanctuary – would at last enjoy God’s everlasting rest (Isaiah 60:1-22).
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C.
Function Within Sacred Space
The creation account – especially when considered in the light of the development of its themes
in later revelation – shows the original creation to have been a shalomic order. Everything God
created was perfectly conformed to itself and, therefore, to everything else; all was “very good.”
And being characterized by such harmonious perfection, there was nothing more for God to add
to His creation; the shalomic quality of the created order called for shabbat – creative rest.
As a part of God’s creative work, man, too, was characterized by shalom. Like everything else
God had made, Adam existed and operated in perfect conformity to his own nature and role in
the creation. But while the principle of shalom indicates man’s perfection with respect to his
nature and role, it doesn’t provide any insight into what that nature and role are. The creation
account itself supplies that information, and what it reveals is that man’s function within the
sacred space of the first creation had two core components of which all others were subsets.
Man’s shalomic function in God’s shabbat consisted of communion and dominion.
1.
Communion
Although the matter of dominion comes to the forefront first in the creation narrative, the
text presupposes man’s unique identity in presenting his role as ruler over God’s creation.
This is evident in Genesis 1:26-27, where man’s functional role is framed by the
declaration that he bears God’s image and likeness. Given that form necessarily follows
function, it would appear at this point in the narrative that man’s designed role as
creature-lord is the reason for his unique nature as image-bearer. In other words, God
created man in His own image in order for him to be able and suitable to rule over His
works. But dominion over the other creatures of the earth doesn’t absolutely demand that
man bear the divine image and likeness. Any creature, if properly fashioned and ordered,
can exercise dominion as the top of the creaturely order. This truth suggests that there is
another functional aspect of human existence that lies behind man’s nature as imagebearer. The second chapter of Genesis illumines that function: Man bears God’s image
and likeness in order to be able to relate to Him person-to-Person. Man is image-bearer
in order to be image-son.
Man’s fundamental purpose is relational. It’s true that, in some sense, all of God’s
creatures are related to Him; indeed, every created thing is bound to the one who created
it in that, at the least, it reflects back upon its creator. In the case of God and His creation,
the relationship also includes dependency. The created order doesn’t simply testify to
God (Psalm 19:1-4); it looks to Him for its continuance and provision (Psalm 104). But
the divine-human relationship reaches beyond these things to embrace communion.
-
Human beings share in God’s attributes in order to be beings capable of and
suitable for knowing Him and relating to Him in a personal, intimate way.
-
No other created thing enjoys this capacity or privilege, for man alone bears the
divine image. Not even the angels that serve in God’s presence are capable of
knowing Him in this way.
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This understanding of man shows the propriety of referring to him under the title of
“image-son.” The first part of this designation speaks to his created nature, while the
latter part speaks to the purpose for his nature. And since function stands behind and
determines form, it is pointless to consider man as the divine image-bearer without first
understanding that he is the divine son. Sonship lies at the heart of the communion that
exists between God and man, and this concept itself provides important insight into the
nature and extent of this communion.
a.
First of all, sonship speaks of filial relationship. The underlying meaning of
communion is “common union,” which speaks to a relationship between two or
more parties characterized by commonality. This commonality can take numerous
forms and exist to various extents. Organizations, clubs, and societies are
expressive of the myriad of ways people can be related to each other.
But the greatest commonality – the most intimate form of natural relationship – is
that which exists among family members, and not simply (or even primarily)
because of shared bloodline. Family “common union” has genetic commonality
only as one possible starting point, and in many of those instances it goes no
further than that. In other cases (such as husbands and wives), familial
communion exists outside the bounds of common bloodline.
The fundamental issue with family relationships is intimacy, not genetics. This is
evident in the dynamics of the nuclear family in which the points of commonality
between members extend to virtually every aspect of life. Their intimacy is
physical in that they share the same time, space, activities, etc., but it extends also
into the non-physical realm of thoughts, attitudes, emotions, and convictions. This
is true of family relationships in general, but familial intimacy arguably finds its
greatest expression in the relationship between a parent and child. The reason is
that children largely determine their own identity and even their perception of
reality in relation to their parents. Life is what their parents communicate it is (in
attitude and action as much as in word), and even a child’s sense of himself is
framed by what he sees in his parents and the way they relate to him, his siblings,
one another, and the world around them. More than merely the meeting of
temporal needs, children are dependent upon their parents for their worldview and
self-identity. This is all the more true of human “sons” and their divine Father.
b.
As sonship implies physical, intellectual, emotional and psychological intimacy,
so it equally implies sameness. It is here that the idea of genetic relation comes to
the forefront. A son’s intimacy with his father is material as well as immaterial;
he is “of his father” in the sense that his father lives on in him. Sons participate in
the nature and attributes of their fathers, and so it is with human beings and God.
This is seen most clearly in the way the Bible treats the concept of sonship. The
expression, “son of…,” implies shared essence, substance, and/or quality between
“father” and “son.” Thus one who is a “son of worthlessness” is a worthless
individual, and one who is a “son of man” is attested to be fully human.
15
“Son of…” indicates that the progenitor is manifested in the offspring; to see the
son is to see the one who begat him. The implication is that man is not the “son of
God” simply in the sense that God has determined to interact intimately with him
(although this is certainly true). Man is God’s “son” first of all in the sense that he
shares in certain of his Creator’s essential (“communicable”) attributes. Sonship
speaks first to ontological (essential) relationship and only then to personal
relationship: It is precisely because man shares in the divine likeness that he is
capable of fulfilling the relational purpose for which he was created. Sonship
language and “image” language, therefore, are mutually interpreting.
c.
Finally, sonship implies devoted submission. A son is of his father, but for that
very reason he is not the same as his father. The father has primacy of both place
and position, so that a father-son relationship ordered according to truth will find
the son relating to his father from a position of devotion, honor, and submission.
The creation account emphasizes man’s unique nature as divine image-bearer, and his
nature finds its purpose in divine-human communion. Man was created to commune with
his Creator, but in a way that is unique among creatures. Man’s communion with God
was intended to take the form of the intimacy that exists between a father and son.
2.
Dominion
Understanding the nature of man’s communion with God provides insight into the nature
of his rule over the earth. Man was created to exercise dominion, but in the context of
communion: Adam was charged with subduing the earth, but as God’s image-son; he was
to manifest his Creator-Father’s supreme lordship by ruling in His name and authority
and for His sake. This sort of arrangement was commonplace in the ancient world, and so
perfectly comprehensible to the Bible’s original audience. Kings exercised absolute
authority over the domains under their control, but they often administered their rule
through their son(s). This was especially the case as kings grew older and were less
capable of the sort of military activity required to direct, preserve and expand their
holdings. The daily work of ruling fell to their sons who acted in their name. In that way
a son was effectively an extension of his father’s presence and authority in his kingdom.
So it is that man, the image-son, was appointed by the King-Father to act as His viceregent, and this framework brings definition to the creational mandate God gave to Adam
to “be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it” (Genesis 1:28).
a.
The creation mandate contained three related components, the first of which is
multiplication. God had created the earth, not to be “formless and void,” but to
be fully inhabited (Isaiah 45:18), and this is the reason His command to multiply
extended beyond man (Genesis 1:21-22).
b.
So Adam and Eve were also to be fruitful, but their multiplication carried a
broader significance: Their fruitfulness, too, would spread their own kind across
the earth, but their “filling” would fill the earth with God’s manifest presence.
16
Because of man’s identity as image-bearer, his presence represents the tangible
expression of God’s presence. God’s determination was that man would be the
interface between Himself and His creation and administer His rule over it. Like
the royal son who is an extension of his father and his lordship, so man was to
carry God’s presence and dominion to the ends of the earth. Thus the charge to
“fill the earth” was effectively the charge to extend sacred space until the whole
earth became God’s sanctuary. This is proven out by the way this charge is
reiterated and developed as a core theme in the movement of salvation history:
1)
It was reissued to Noah as a “second Adam” in the context of the
postdiluvian “new” creation (Genesis 9:1-7).
2)
It later became the basis of God’s covenant promise to Abraham to make
him into a great, multitudinous, and regal nation through whom the divine
blessing would fill the earth (cf. Genesis 12:1-3, 17:1-8, 15-19, 22:17-18).
That same promise was carried forward to Abraham’s covenant “seed”:
first to Isaac (Genesis 26:1-4, 23-24; cf. 24:59-60), then to Jacob (Genesis
28:1-14, 35:1-12; cf. 48:1-4, 15-16), and finally to the nation of Israel (cf.
Genesis 47:27 with Exodus 1:1-12, 20; also Exodus 6:1-8, 32:11-13;
Leviticus 26:1-12; Deuteronomy 6:1-3, 7:12-14; Isaiah 51:1-2; etc.).
In fulfillment of His promise to Abraham, God had taken Israel to be His
“son,” and, like Adam at the outset of creation, Israel was to be fruitful
and multiply. Most importantly, being the image-son who reflected his
covenant Father and dwelt with Him in intimate communion, Israel’s
multiplication was to bring God’s presence – and so also His blessing – to
the ends of the earth. In realizing the Abrahamic promise of dominion and
global blessing Israel would also fulfill the Adamic mandate.
c.
Man’s fruitfulness was to result in the filling of the earth, but also its
subjugation. It’s here that the principle of dominion is first made explicit. God is
the Lord of all the earth, but man in His image-son; therefore, God’s call to Adam
to subdue the earth was His affirmation that His own lordship was to be
administered through man. The entire creation would discern and acknowledge
the presence and rule of its Creator by subjecting itself to His image-bearer.
Stated another way, the creation’s continuance in and full enjoyment of its initial
shalomic perfection under its Creator-Lord presupposed its eager subjection to the
Creator’s image-son. David understood this truth, and marveled at its glory:
“O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above
the heavens… When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you
care for him? You made him a little lower than God and crowned him with glory and honor. You
made him ruler over the works of your hands; you put everything under his feet: all flocks and
herds, and the beasts of the field, the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea, all that swim the
paths of the seas. O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” (Psalm 8)
17
D.
Covenant and Sacred Space
In the shalomic perfection of the original creation, man enjoyed the unique status of image-son.
God had created Adam and Eve in His own image and likeness, and He had done so in order that
mankind would be capable of fulfilling its ordained role in the created order. Man bears the
divine image because of God’s determination that he would rule over the creation in His name
and authority as His regal son. Thus, as it pertained to Adam and Eve, shalom was expressed in
their dominion in the context of perfect communion with their Father-Lord.
Given their created nature and intended function as creatures, Adam and Eve’s relationship with
God may properly be understood in covenantal terms. This is because all covenants are contracts,
and all contracts are relational instruments; whatever their form or matter, they define and
establish some form of relationship between two or more parties. Thus covenants (contracts)
identify the covenanting parties, define the nature of the relationship being established,
enumerate the criteria for the successful performance of that relationship, and specify rewards for
compliance and penalties for violation of the contract. Business and government contracts,
international treaties, and even marriage are all examples of covenants.
As to the matter of a creational covenant, Reformed Theology has traditionally held to a
“covenant of works” between Adam and God. That covenant is said to have established Adam’s
obligation of perfect obedience to God, with the reward for compliance being everlasting
continuance in his created perfection, and the penalty for non-compliance being death. This
covenant is recognized to be an implied “theological” covenant rather than an expressly biblical
one. The primary basis for the idea of a covenant of works comes from the commands God gave
to Adam, particularly as they pertained to the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Reformed
Theology regards this tree as forming the heart of a “probation,” with the outcome of Adam’s
“test” determining his future and, by federal representation, the future of the entire human race.
If Adam passed his probation, he would be sealed in his perfect righteousness forever. If he
failed, he would bring death upon himself and all his descendents. Though a full treatment of this
position falls outside the scope of this study, a couple of summary observations are in order:
1)
The first was noted above, which is that the so-called covenant of works is not an explicit
covenant in the biblical text. In general terms, Reformed Theology infers this covenant
between Adam and God on the basis of God’s command to him and what it implies.
2)
The notion of a probationary test is also inferred and not directly stated. It reflects the
premise that, had Adam successfully obeyed with respect to the forbidden tree, he would
have been rewarded with free access to the tree of life (ref. Genesis 2:15-17, 3:22).
Having passed the test, he would have then been allowed to eat from the second tree and
thereby continue forever in “life.” The most obvious problem with the idea of a probation
is the Scripture’s teaching regarding God’s purpose and the way it would be
accomplished. Nowhere does the Bible even suggest that God’s ultimate design for the
creation included anything other than His redemptive work in Christ. How could there be
such a thing as a legitimate probation for Adam when Paul insists that the grace of
salvation in Christ was given us from all eternity (2 Timothy 1:8-9)? All that can be
postulated is a hypothetical probation, and a hypothetical probation is no probation at all.
18
The second problem is not so obvious, but is just as significant: The notion of a probation
through which Adam could have been permanently sealed in his righteousness – thereby
sealing perfection for the human race – assumes that Adam’s humanity was ultimate. But
the Scripture is clear that Adam’s perfection was the starting point in God’s purposes, not
the end point (potential or otherwise). Adam couldn’t be the end point because true
humanity was not bound up in him; it is resident in the Second Adam, and so also in all
who are joined to Him in the new creation. True man is the “man of the spirit” and this
consummate humanness would not enter the world until Jesus’ Incarnation (cf. John
1:19-34, 3:22-34; 1 Corinthians 15:12ff, esp. vv. 35-58; also Romans 8:1-17).
While the text doesn’t identity a formal covenant between God and Adam, and the so-called
probation at the heart of that presumed covenant is also inferred and problematic on several
fronts, this doesn’t mean that the relationship between God and man in the first creation wasn’t
covenantal. The very nature of man – especially when considered in terms of his relational
purpose – implies the idea of covenant. God needn’t have ratified a formal, explicit covenant
with Adam for their relationship to be objective, determined, and binding. The mere fact that
God is God and man is His image-son shows that their relationship must be ordered a certain
way for it to be “right” and, therefore, “shalomic.” Simply the reality of man’s creation – given
all it encompasses and implies – points to a covenantal relation between him and God. Man was
created for relationship, and relationship is covenantal.
If, as has been seen, sacred space refers to the realm of divine-human encounter, it follows from
the preceding discussion that sacred space itself has a covenantal aspect. Sacred space is where
God and man come together, and the divine-human encounter – because it is objective,
definitive, and grounded in man’s identity as image-son – is covenantal. So it is that the first
manifestation of sacred space in the Garden of Eden is set in a covenantal framework as
expressed by the presence of two trees. In the words of Henri Blocher, these two trees represent
the “two clauses of the creation covenant” (Original Sin: Illuminating the Riddle, pg. 49).
Indeed, as the whole of Scripture has its core concern in the divine-human encounter and its
implication for the created order (i.e., the concept of sacred space), so these two sacred symbols
provide the foundation for understanding that encounter and what both its success and its failure
mean for man and the creation under his lordship.
1.
The Two Trees
And so, no sooner does the text find Adam in God’s garden-sanctuary than it has him
confronted with the presence of the two trees. Each represents an alternative course and
outcome for man in his existence in sacred space (Genesis 2:8-17).
a.
The Tree of Life
The first of these two trees is the “tree of life.” It is presented as standing in the
midst of the garden, and this imagery suggests that the tree is somehow central to
sacred space and the divine-human relationship. It seems to imply that man’s
intimacy with God - and therefore his own self-fulfillment as God’s image-son – is
inseparable from the principle introduced here under the concept of “life.”
19
Man was created a “living being,” and the text explains the meaning of this phrase
by noting that God breathed His own life into him (2:7). Because this is said of no
other creature, it follows that this “breath of life” has to do with man’s unique
identity as image-bearer. While all plants and animals are living in the sense that
they are animate creatures, none shares in the principle of life as introduced here
and employed in the balance of Scripture. Furthermore, the text establishes the
close connection between man’s “life” and the tree of life by juxtaposing them in
the narrative. Man, the unique possessor of life, is immediately introduced into
God’s garden-sanctuary having its central feature in the tree of life – a tree from
which he is told that he may freely eat.
This suggests that “life” is to be associated with man’s existence according to his
true nature and function. Life is shalomic existence, and for man, shalomic
existence is grounded in communion with God. At this point in the text this
understanding is only suggested, but it becomes more evident in the outcome of
man’s encounter with the second tree. There the meaning of the concept of “life”
is revealed by the way its counterpart death arises and manifests itself.
When considered in relation to the second tree (and beyond that in the developing
biblical storyline), the tree of life is shown to represent eschatological life. That
is, it symbolizes life in its true and ultimate form: life as it preeminently
characterizes God Himself (John 1:1-4, 5:26), and so also His image-bearers
when they exist in the perfection of their own created nature and purpose. Stated
simply, the tree of life represents shalomic life in the context of sacred space. This
is the reason the symbolism of the tree of life recurs in the Scripture in connection
with the sanctuary theme and man’s knowledge of and communion with God (ref.
Proverbs 2:1-6, 3:13-18; Revelation 2:7; 22:1-5, 14-19; cf. also Ezekiel 47:1-12).
b.
The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil
Parallel to the tree of life is the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (2:9b). Its
presentation, together with the warning concerning it, introduces a sense of
foreboding that the perfection of a creation that was “very good” was soon to be
shattered. Most importantly, its symbolic relevance, God’s command regarding it,
and Adam and Eve’s interaction with it provide the crucial textual material for
understanding the nature of sin and death and their implications for sacred space.
In examining this tree and its significance in the fall of man several observations
are crucial to make:
1)
The first and most obvious is that the tree is set out as the point of man’s
continuance in his shalomic condition. The obligation set before Adam
was simple and straightforward: “From any tree of the garden you may
eat freely; but from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall
not eat, for in the day that you eat from it you shall surely die” (2:16-17).
20
2)
Life speaks first to man’s nature as divine image-bearer, and secondly to
his existence in conformity to his nature – that is, to his fulfillment of his
ordained function. As a being, man shares in God’s life, and his own life
consists in carrying out his dominion mandate in perfect communion with
His Creator-Father as His image-son. This is what it meant for Adam to
fulfill his covenantal (creational) obligation; this conformity to his nature
and purpose was Adam’s righteousness.
Thus the tree of the knowledge of good and evil represented a challenge to
Adam’s righteousness, but not primarily in the sense of presenting him
with a legal obligation demanding his compliance. God’s charge wasn’t an
arbitrary test of Adam’s obedience, but a warning about the disastrous
consequence of man departing from his created design. The threat of the
loss of righteousness wasn’t principally the threat of incurred guilt for
disobedience, but the threat of the loss of life. The outcome that awaited
Adam should he fail to heed God’s warning was much more than legal
guilt; it was the cosmic cataclysm that is the destruction of shalom and the
desolation of sacred space; in the end, it was the end of man as truly man.
3)
This is commonly missed by those who make the prohibition regarding the
tree nothing more than the instrument of a probationary test. In that
instance it is reduced to bare commandment: When all that matters is
whether or not Adam would do what he was told, the issues embodied in
the commandment become irrelevant. God could just as well have
prohibited Adam from eating from the tree of life. In the end, any directive
would have served the same purpose of testing Adam’s obedience.
The outcome of this conception of God’s prohibition is that the tree of the
knowledge of good and evil has no significance in itself; it was merely a
selected venue for the entrance of sin. A further result is that sin loses its
biblical meaning as presented in Genesis 3 (and developed in the rest of
the Bible) because it becomes nothing more than disobedience to arbitrary
directive. But the truth is that the particular issue involved in God’s
prohibition is preeminently important; the narrative’s intent isn’t to
demonstrate the mere fact of sin, but the nature and meaning of sin. By
doing so, it also provides further insight into human righteousness.
4)
The text accomplishes these ends by means of the symbolism attached to
the second tree and the consequence of partaking of its fruit (cf. Genesis
2:15-17 with 3:1-24). God warned that eating of the tree would bring the
knowledge of good and evil, and the implication is that Adam and Eve
neither possessed this knowledge, nor did God intend for them to obtain it.
Taking into account the whole narrative to this point, it follows that this
particular knowledge – whatever it is – was contrary to the perfection of
man as image-bearer, and therefore, would somehow negatively affect his
communion with God and the shalomic condition of the creation.
21
5)
At this point it is important to note that the basis of this negative result
cannot be simply the obtainment of the knowledge of good and evil, as
some have proposed. For if the knowledge of good and evil as such is
contrary to shalomic harmony, then God is alienated from Himself, for He
expressly states that He knows good and evil (3:22). Indeed, the fact that
God possesses this knowledge is the very heart of the temptation: Adam
and Eve were enticed to eat of the tree by the promise that, by so doing,
they would become more like God (3:5). Therefore, the issue is not the
knowledge of good and evil per se, but what it represents for man and
how it is that he obtained it.
The knowledge of good and evil first and foremost pertains to the matter
of authority and prerogative. That is, the possession of this knowledge
implies the right to make independent moral and ethical judgments
concerning good and evil and act accordingly. This prerogative properly
belongs only to God Himself for two obvious reasons:
-
The first has to do with man’s creaturely nature. God alone is
infinite, and so only He possesses the knowledge necessary to
think, judge, and act independently without error. Because man is
finite, his limited knowledge and insight demand that he look to
something beyond himself if he is to make sound judgments.
-
The second has to do with man’s function rather than his nature.
Human beings were created in the divine image for the sake of
relationship with God. Man is God’s image-son, and, among other
things, this means that he depends upon his divine Father for his
sense of himself and the world around him. As such, autonomous
independence represents a perversion of man’s created design.
Being a personal and rational being, man possesses the innate capacity to
make judgments on his own, but his own judgment concerning good and
evil – in order to be consistent with himself as image-bearer – must
necessarily be God’s judgment concerning them. Man’s mind is to be
God’s mind. He does not have the prerogative to judge and act
independently of God; to do so is to violate his own identity and created
purpose and thereby forfeit his authentic humanity.
The second thing that is important to note is that, because man is a timespace creature, his knowledge is experiential. This means that his
obtainment of the knowledge of good and evil comes only through the
experience of evil. God knows evil as One who is, in every way,
untouched by it; man is not omniscient, with the result that he learns of
evil only by personally experiencing it. Therefore, starting from himself,
man can never know good and evil in the same way God does. Knowing
as God knows is the result of intimacy with Him, not independence.
22
Thus the tree and its accessible presence in the Garden symbolize the capacity and
opportunity for man as image-bearer to take to himself moral/ethical authority and
prerogative and thereby establish his autonomy from God. The temptation was not
an invitation to break a rule, arbitrary or otherwise; it was the offer to experience
greater enlightenment in the obtainment of knowledge peculiar to God.
But in their eagerness for self-realization, Adam and Eve didn’t realize that the
serpent’s temptation was designed to “liberate” them from themselves as much as
from God. The great irony of it is that what appeared to be the vehicle to make
them more God-like actually accomplished the opposite end: The knowledge they
believed would enhance them in their status as image-bearers served to pervert the
divine likeness in which they had been made, and plunged man into ruination.
2.
Life and Death
Understanding the symbolism of the two trees gives definition to their corresponding
motifs of life and death: Eating of the one tree promotes and sustains life; eating of the
other brings death.
a.
The tree of life is the central feature of the garden and partaking of it represents
continuance in life within the context of sacred space. This is made more evident
by the broader biblical use of this imagery (ref. again Proverbs 2-3 and Ezekiel
47:1-12 in relation to Revelation 2:7, 22:1ff). Man’s “life” is to know himself and
be fully conformed to his created purpose. It is to realize his own shalomic
perfection as image-son in relation to God, himself, and the created order. This
was man’s condition in the beginning, and thus he entered the sacred space of the
garden as a “living being” and was granted unqualified access to the tree of life.
b.
But shalom would be short-lived; before he had even tasted of the fruit, Adam had
already compromised God’s shalomic order by yielding his dominion to the
serpent. The serpent was a “beast of the field” (Genesis 3:1) and was therefore to
be subject to Adam’s lordship. The shalomic hierarchy of authority was God,
Adam, and then the serpent, but Adam effectively reversed the order. This
vandalism of shalom signaled the end of life; death was at hand. And succumbing
to the temptation of autonomy, Adam and Even introduced the principle of
estrangement into the creation and, with it, the end of communion. Thus eating of
the second tree brought death – the end of man as truly man.
Because he is “image-son,” man’s alienation from God ends his self-knowledge and his
capacity to fulfill his role. But estrangement further implies the destruction of sacred
space since it severs the divine-human relationship. Given his created purpose, the end of
man as man means the end of sacred space, and the Genesis narrative punctuates this
truth by Adam and Eve’s expulsion from God’s garden-sanctuary and separation from the
tree of life. From that point forward, if sacred space were to be recovered and man was to
again “live” to himself and to God – if shalom were to be restored, God would have to
act, and His promise to do so becomes the foundation for the rest of salvation history.
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III.
Sacred Space in Promise
Adam and Eve’s decision to yield to the serpent’s temptation had broader impact than merely
introducing sin into the human race. It had a calamitous effect on the entire created order,
destroying sacred space and, by implication, desolating the creation’s shalomic character. These
things are at the heart of the penalty of death, for death refers biblically not to the cessation of
animate existence, but the destruction of the creation’s ability to fulfill its intended design.
-
As it has its focal point in man, death refers to the loss of true humanity through the
introduction of human dysfunction centered in the principle of estrangement.
-
Because of man’s role in relation to the rest of the created order, his estrangement from
God and himself brings estrangement from every other created thing. This is evident in
the way Adam’s disobedience brought a curse upon the earth (Genesis 3:17-19). Adam
had violated the principle of shalom by upsetting God’s ordained hierarchy, and God
sealed this disorder by means of His curse. In God’s design, the earth was to serve Adam
as its lord by yielding itself and its produce to him. But now, the earthly creation would
act against man and effectively reign over him by causing his life to be filled with painful
labor and struggle. The ground would devour man’s time, energy, enthusiasm and joy,
and, in the end, consume his flesh in the grave.
The shalomic nature of the creation expressed in the harmonious interrelationship of all things
was replaced with the “death” that is estrangement and enmity. At the very heart of that
estrangement was man’s alienation from God, and therefore the destruction of sacred space. This
destruction, however, wasn’t absolute: The Fall didn’t completely eliminate God’s interaction
with men, but put an end to its creational expression. The divine-human encounter would
continue after Adam and Eve were expelled from God’s garden-sanctuary, but in a compromised
form. Toward the accomplishment of His eternal goal for His creation, God would continue to
break through the barrier of estrangement with His image-bearers so as to make Himself present
and known to them, but the previous continuous and natural Father-son intimacy of the original
creation was gone. Sacred space would now exist in the realm of the mysterious and cultic.
A.
The Pre-Patriarchal Period
Following the pronouncement of His curse upon the serpent, woman, man and earth, God
expelled Adam and Eve from His garden-sanctuary and terminated their access to the tree of life.
That expulsion itself testified to the intrusion of death, as would man’s forthcoming struggle to
survive in his new and hostile surroundings. And yet, all was not lost; before sending Adam and
Eve out into the world, God issued a promise that would carry the hope of mankind forward until
the day of its appointed fulfillment.
1.
Protoevangelium
Adam’s disobedience introduced death to the created order, but in the midst of the curse
God promised the recovery of life. Appropriately, the divine promise was issued in the
context of the curse upon the serpent (Genesis 3:15).
24
a.
The serpent had instigated the episode that resulted in death, and so it was fitting
that God should set His promise regarding the restoration of life in the midst of
His pronouncement against the serpent. The promise specifically pertained to the
serpent’s destruction, but the implication was that his demise would include the
destruction of his works. The “bruising” of the serpent’s head would serve to
overthrow the curse imposed on the entire created order.
b.
This conquest was to come through Eve’s seed. The curse formalized a state of
enmity between the serpent and Eve, and that enmity would be manifested in the
perpetual hostile relationship between her seed and his. And yet, from this line of
descendents one offspring of Eve would finally bring this enmity to a head by
triumphing over the serpent, and so also over all those who belong to him.
c.
This promise of a triumphant human seed is God’s first indication of His intention
to address and reverse the calamity of the Fall, and Adam understood the
significance of God’s oath. God was promising life through the woman, and
Adam acknowledged and celebrated His promise by naming her Eve, expressing
her status as the mother of all the living (3:20). This designation certainly
reflected what was true in the physical realm; every human being would claim
Eve as his or her mother. But Adam’s act was an expression of his faith in God:
he believed God concerning His promise of a conquering seed, and it was in this
sense that Adam acknowledged Eve as the mother of all the living. She would
give birth to the Seed who Himself is the “Living One”; the One whose triumph
would recover life for all men by reconciling and restoring them to themselves
and their Creator-Father. Ironically, the very same woman who brought death
upon the world as the instrument of the serpent was now God’s chosen instrument
to recover life. As death had come upon the creation through man, so would life.
“In the context, it shows Adam reclaiming dominion in faith through naming his
wife the mother, which cannot help but allude to the more specific role she will
have as the one who will provide a seed who will strike the serpent [who is the
usurper]…The seed of the woman will restore the lost glory…The realization of
the kingdom of God is linked to the future of the human race.”
(Stephen Dempster, Dominion and Dynasty, emphasis in original)
2.
Introduction of Provisional Sacred Space
When Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden, they were effectively sent away
from God’s presence. They sought independence as a way to become more like God; they
gained an independence that separated them from God and His life. The extent and
significance of this separation become evident as the storyline progresses and turns its
attention to Adam’s first two sons, Cain and Abel. In that regard, it’s notable that nothing
is revealed about the lives of these two individuals prior to the circumstance presented in
Genesis 4:3ff. The text mentions their vocations, but only because that information is
relevant to the matter of concern, which is their respective acts of worship. These acts
provide profound insight into the consequences of the Fall and its impact on sacred space.
25
The first two chapters of Genesis reveal that man’s unique nature as divine image-bearer
was to serve his created function as divine son. All of his roles and responsibilities were
to be met in the context of his core devotion to his Creator-Father; above all else, man
was created to worship his God, for worship is the essence of communion when viewed
from the human side. The divine image in man serves the goal of divine-human
communion, and communion is worship. And since the Fall did not – indeed, could not –
destroy man’s essential nature as image-bearer, it follows that worship also continued
subsequent to it. But, given what the Fall entailed, there should be every expectation that
man’s worship of God was radically altered by it.
Adam and Eve’s disobedience had far-reaching effects that implicated the whole created
order, but the core issue was its effect on the divine-human relationship. The Scripture
emphasizes this truth by turning first to the matter of worship as it begins the process of
chronicling man’s new existence out of the Garden (4:1-7). This passage reinforces the
fact that the Fall didn’t eradicate either human consciousness of God or the need to
engage Him; what it did do is introduce psychological and spiritual distance into
worship because of the new, determinative reality of alienation between man and God.
Human independence had come at the cost of estrangement: Adam’s intimate familiarity
with God as his Father had been replaced by a pervasive sense of strangeness. God had
become distant and increasingly mysterious within human consciousness, so that His
person and presence now needed to be mediated to His image-bearers. Because of the
Fall, worship – even authentic worship – was now a matter of symbolism and sacrament.
The text highlights this radical alteration by recounting the first post-Fall worship episode
involving Adam’s two sons, Cain and Abel. Often the common features in their worship
are overlooked in the process of noting the differences, but those commonalities are
crucially important because they show that the curse of estrangement had passed to them
from their parents. Whatever the differences in the particulars of their worship and the
way it was received, both men’s worship reflected the reality of distance between them
and God – distance addressed through ritual offerings. Abel’s worship was pleasing and
Cain’s was not, but both were constrained to encounter God in the same way.
a.
Symbolic Sacred Space – Abel
In considering these two acts of worship, the first thing to observe is that Cain and
Abel brought offerings to God. This suggests that there existed a particular locale
– possibly an altar – that was recognized by Adam and his family as the
designated place of divine-human encounter. This is important in that it shows
that sacred space had taken on a temporal and spatial quality; human encounter
with God was now a matter of tangible symbols and sacraments.
While some have theorized that Cain and Abel’s presenting sacrifices points to
such practices being a part of life in the Garden, the fact that there is no mention
(or suggestion) of either altars or offerings prior to this event argues otherwise.
Indeed, this account coming immediately after the Fall suggests a change in
man’s worship arising from it. Estrangement now necessitated mediated worship.
26
Abel brought an offering to God and his act of worship was accepted by Him
(4:4). Nevertheless, it remains that his worship assumed the form of symbol and
sacrament. The point is simply this: Abel, being a son of Adam, had no capacity to
commune with God directly; his worship, although acceptable to God, reflected
both distance and mediation. Abel’s worship was still set in the framework of
fundamental human estrangement; though he was a man of faith (Hebrews 11:4),
Abel was constrained to express his faith in the context of the curse.
b.
Pseudo-Sacred Space – Cain
Cain brought his own offering to God, and like his brother’s, his offering was
entirely voluntary. The text gives no indication that either man was acting out of
compulsion, whether by divine command or the need for forgiveness (as in the
case of a sin offering). Both Cain and Abel brought their offerings freely, and, as
such, their actions testify to the reality that fallen man cannot escape his own
created identity; he still retains his inherent need for fellowship with his Creator.
The Scripture records these as the first offerings presented by men, and has them
being brought apart from divine directive. In this way the text seems to indicate
that the universal human religious practice of ritual offerings (in whatever form)
does not have its origin in God’s prescription or command. Cain and Abel are
shown bringing offerings without any indication that God had prescribed them
(and one cannot “read back” onto this context the commanded sacrifices of the
Levitical cultus). But there is equally no suggestion that this practice was merely
an accidental invention. Rather, the two brothers brought offerings to God
because, as beings created in His image, they were moved within themselves to
draw near to Him. At the same time, their awareness of the distance between them
and God – made tangible to them by their toilsome existence outside the Garden –
left them seeking a way to mediate His presence.
Cain and Abel shared the same means of approach to God, and both men brought
offerings taken from the fruit of their labors. But whereas God was pleased with
Abel’s offering, He had no regard for Cain’s (4:5). The text doesn’t explain how
God made His displeasure known, but Cain was clearly aware that his offering
had been rejected. What is important to observe is that the source of God’s
displeasure was Cain himself. Cain, like his brother, brought an offering drawn
from his own wealth and produce, and there is no indication that God found fault
with the offering because of its form. His lack of regard for Cain’s offering was
due to the heart that lay behind it.
Both employed the devices of symbol and sacrament to draw near to God in
worship, but that’s where the similarity ends. Abel’s offering constituted true
worship, but Cain’s was counterfeit. Each man’s worship reflected the realities of
distance and mediation, but whereas Abel’s bridged the chasm of estrangement,
Cain’s “worship” perpetuated it. Cain’s worship was the effective self-worship of
fallen man – the worship that views deity through utilitarian eyes.
27
Like Abel, Cain’s actions expressed the inherent human need to draw near to and
interact with God, but his “worship” reflected his fallen condition. Cain’s
encounter with God is the first example of the pseudo-worship that characterizes
man in his autonomous estrangement. In this way it provides the paradigm for all
human religion in every place and time. For, every religious form reflects the
conflicted duplicity of the human soul: Being image-bearers, people are moved
within themselves to seek some sort of encounter with deity, but at an acceptable
spiritual and psychological distance determined by their estrangement. Human
religious practice is ultimately self-concerned and self-seeking; it doesn’t seek
closeness to God Himself – which is true worship, but access to His provision.
1)
That this was the case with Cain is evident first in the description of his
offering. Whereas Abel brought the “firstlings of his flock and of their fat
portions,” Cain’s offering carried no such distinction. At issue was not the
form of his offering, but its quality.
2)
But God’s displeasure wasn’t bound to the offering itself, but what the
offering represented in terms of the person of Cain. God has no interest in
crops or animals; He desires worship from His image-bearers, and what
Cain brought testified to how he viewed his Creator and His worship.
3)
Cain’s offering was concerned with Cain, and the greatest proof of this
was his response to God’s displeasure and subsequent rebuke (4:5-8). God
lovingly exhorted Cain and warned him not to yield to the sin that clearly
was “crouching at the door,” and he responded, not by humbly
acknowledging his folly and praising his good and gracious God, but by
killing the brother whose accepted offering had humiliated him.
Cain is the model of the pseudo-worship of the natural man, and this is reinforced
by the subsequent narrative (4:16ff). As punishment for murdering Abel, God
banished Cain and consigned him to be a wanderer and scavenger on the earth.
The earth’s enmity toward man, sealed in the curse, was to be multiplied for him.
His father Adam was able to obtain a yield from the ground only through toilsome
labor (3:18-19), but the earth would close itself off to Cain altogether.
The heightening of the Adamic curse suggests the intensification of human
estrangement and rebellion against God, and the text substantiates this by two
sub-texts that follow immediately upon Cain’s banishment. The first is the
account of the first city – a city Cain built and named after the son in his own
image. Human estrangement was expressing itself in the city of man, a religiosociological concept reflecting man’s sense of autonomy and self-sufficiency and
expressed in the narrative by the emergence and development of human culture
and technology (4:17-22). The second is the poem of Lamech (4:23-24), in which
this Cainite brazenly celebrated his arrogant brutality and the fact that it exceeded
that of his notorious forefather. If Cain’s notoriety warranted a seven-fold
response by God (4:15), his was worthy of a much greater one.
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3.
The Noahic Covenant
After taking note of Adam and Eve’s expulsion from God’s garden-sanctuary, the
Genesis narrative chronicles the progress of human estrangement through subsequent
generations. What it reveals is that, while the principle of divine-human alienation
remained unchanged from the point of the Fall, the effect of it on mankind did not. The
sin nature remained constant; its impact on human existence and culture, however, is a
tragic story of rapid descent into ever-greater and more expansive evil and destruction. In
the space of only two chapters the narrative moves from Cain’s murderous pride to a state
of human wickedness in which “every intent of the thoughts of man’s heart was only evil
continually” (Genesis 6:5). In the outworking of his independence, God’s image-son had
now become, to the fullest extent, the obedient son of his new “father.”
As God scanned the face of the earth he saw only evil and corruption and therefore
determined to destroy mankind (6:6-7). But that destruction wouldn’t be absolute: In a
marvelous prefiguration of what He would later do in another son of Eve, God set apart
one righteous man to carry His earthly creation through a time of judgment and, as a new
Adam, stand as the fountainhead of a new humanity (cf. Isaiah 59:15-21).
At the time of the Fall, God promised the final destruction of the serpent by Eve’s
descendent, and His work of purging and renewal in the Flood made a significant
contribution to that revelation. It indicated that God’s promise to destroy the serpent was
equally the commitment to destroy his works through judgment and restoration, thereby
bringing an end to the curse. Moreover, Noah’s role as God’s instrument of judgment and
deliverance (ref. 2 Peter 2:5) and progenitor of a new humanity provided foundational
insight into the promised “seed” and how it was that He would overcome the serpent.
Together, Noah and the deluge served to fulfill the ancient promise of purgation, but not
in the absolute sense. God had purged and restored the earth, and His reissuing of the
creational charge (cf. 1:26-30 and 9:1-2) shows that Noah represented a new Adam
presiding over a quasi “new” creation. And yet, the narrative leaves no doubt that this
restoration was merely typological: It contributed to the developing portrait of what God
would do in fulfillment of His promise; it wasn’t itself that fulfillment.
-
This is evident first in the fact that the postdiluvian world had not been purged of
sin. Noah enjoyed a unique status and privilege before God as His chosen
righteous deliverer and second Adam, but in his fallen human nature he, along
with all his descendents, shared full solidarity with the race of men destroyed in
the Flood (9:5-6, 20-25).
-
But it is also attested by the fact that sacred space had not been restored by the
Flood. Noah – the new Adam and fountainhead of a new humanity – continued to
worship God just as his forefathers had, employing sacrificial ritual to mediate the
distance between them. In an act of notable irony, Noah departed the ark and
entered into the renewed earth only to immediately build an altar. God’s new
Adam had not led mankind back into the garden-sanctuary (8:18-22).
29
a.
The earth had been purged, but not the human soul: The intent of man’s heart
continued to be “evil from his youth.” The promise of Genesis 3:15 had not yet
been fulfilled, and this gives perspective to the covenant God made with Noah. At
first glance that covenant appears to make the Flood God’s last act of destruction,
but all it stipulated was that He would never again destroy the earth with water.
The mere fact of sin’s continuance – and therefore the need for God to yet fulfill
His protoevangelium – implies future judgment. The deluge served as a prototype
of a great purging to come, and all too soon that purging would become a core
theme in the mouths of God’s prophets.
Men’s worship of God would continue in the new earth, but in the same essential
form as before. In the context of divine-human estrangement, worship means
mediated distance, and that means symbols and sacraments.
b.
1)
The fact that this passage contains the first biblical reference to altars has
led some to suppose that they had not been used in worship before this
time. But the truth is that sacrificial offerings are most often presented in
connection with sacred altars, not only in the biblical text but throughout
human religious practice. The reason is that the worshipper presents his
offering to a deity, and altars – in whatever form – serve as symbolic
places of interface between the human and the divine.
2)
The use of altars most likely predated Noah, which lends support for the
argument that the writer introduced the concept of altars at this point in the
text because of what it communicates about Noah and the postdiluvian
world. This conclusion is further substantiated by the narrative’s emphasis
on the continuance of sin after the Flood as it moves toward the episode at
Babel. In other words, as the Genesis account introduced the concept of
offerings immediately after the Fall to show its profound implication on
man’s worship, so it similarly introduces the concept of altars immediately
after the Flood to emphasize that that act of natural purging did nothing to
remedy the fundamental problem of human estrangement. Sacred space –
the realm of divine-human encounter – continues to be a temporal and
symbolic phenomenon, and from this point forward altars will play a
central role in man’s interaction with God.
It was seen that the parallel sacrificial episodes involving Cain and Abel provide
the Scripture’s first consideration of human worship subsequent to the Fall and
the introduction of the defining principle of divine-human estrangement. In that
context, Cain’s offering displays the pseudo-worship characteristic of the natural
man, whatever particular form his religious thought and practice might assume.
Abel’s offering, on the other hand, provides a portrait of acceptable worship,
revealing that the determining issue in an acceptable approach to God is the
disposition and motivation of the worshipper. At the same time, this passage
importantly emphasizes the fact that the Fall brought an enduring alteration to
sacred space, so that even authentic worship occurs in the context of distance.
30
The Cain and Abel episode, then, introduces three key truths pertaining to the
reality and operation of sacred space in the context of the Fall and its curse:
4.
1)
The first is that sacred space has become a physical, time/space
phenomenon ordered by tangible symbols and rituals.
2)
The second is that worship was rendered a matter of mediated distance.
This is true in every instance, regardless of whether a person’s worship is
acceptable or not. This is because of the principle of estrangement that had
now come to define the relational status between God and men.
3)
Finally, the distinction between acceptable and unacceptable worship is
not found per se in the symbols and sacraments that are employed. True
worship acts to spiritually and psychologically bridge the distance
between God and the worshipper, and thus is a matter of inward attitudes,
motives, and orientations. Both Cain and Abel sought to encounter God in
the same way externally, but their “heart approach” was vastly different.
The Tower of Babel
The contrast between Cain and Abel finds an interesting parallel in the accounts of
Noah’s personal worship (8:15-21) and the Babel incident that soon followed on the plain
of Shinar (ancient Babylonia) (11:1-9). After recording God’s new creational covenant
with man and the earth (9:8-17), the Genesis narrative immediately lists a table of people
groups descended from Noah (10:1-32). This table first of all emphasizes that the
renewed Adamic commission to multiply, fill, and subdue the earth was indeed being
fulfilled through Noah, the new Adam. But it also introduces the concept of nations,
which development provides an historical and salvation-historical foundation for God’s
subsequent calling of Abraham and His promise to make him a great nation (12:1-3).
a.
Noah’s descendents were greatly multiplying in the earth, and yet this multitude
remained one people united by a common language and culture (11:1). Thus the
tenth chapter of Genesis recounts the outcome of 11:1-9; that is, the Babel episode
explains how Noah’s descendents came to be separate nations distinguished by
language, culture and geographical boundaries (cf. 10:2-5, 20, 31-32). But in the
period immediately following the Flood mankind remained unified as one people,
and this solidarity provides the human context for what transpires next.
The Fall didn’t eradicate the divine image in man, and therefore the need to
encounter God continued even in the midst of human estrangement and
autonomy. As noted previously, worship had become a matter of conflicted
duplicity: While seeking to satisfy their need to interact with the divine, people
yet insist upon maintaining their own independence and self-significance. Cain’s
approach to God was ultimately an exercise in self-interest, but it nonetheless
reflected his innate urge to connect with his Creator. The account of the tower of
Babel expresses the same dynamic, but at the level of the whole human race.
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Adam’s grasp at autonomy resulted in alienation, and his oldest son’s offering
provided the first glimpse into human worship in the realm of consuming selfinterest. Man had become his own “god,” believing himself to be a self-sufficient
being capable of making his own way in the world – even his way back to the true
God. Cain’s act of worship reflected this delusion, as did his later construction of
a city dedicated to his son. Interestingly, both of these enterprises are reflected in
the Babel incident. Acting in solidarity, it seemed that nothing was impossible for
mankind: As a unified force, men could resist God on the one hand (11:4b), and
effectively restore themselves back into His presence on the other (11:4a).
b.
Cain had originated the “city of man” – a sociological and cultural construct
testifying to human greatness and sufficiency. Carrying the curse into the newly
purged creation, Noah’s descendents were now perpetuating Cain’s megalomania
and adding to it another testimonial to human resourcefulness and power: a tower
reaching to the heavens. The city and tower signify mankind’s attempt to redress
its humiliating expulsion and exile from God’s garden by constructing a new citysanctuary where man is lord – a new “Eden” from which he could display and
exercise his dominion, not as man without God, but as independent from God.
c.
The arrogant irony of this endeavor is highlighted in the reason given for it: The
human race sought in solidarity to make a name (“Shem”) for itself by fulfilling
the creational mandate of dominion, but in the pseudo-communion of autonomy.
But this was in open defiance of God’s previous declaration that He had ordained
a man – Shem – through whom He would restore mankind to His presence and
accomplish His overall creational purpose (9:26-27). Fokkelman comments:
“Implicitly they want, perhaps as yet unconsciously, to make impossible the
salvation-history, which according to the biblical message is essentially the
thrilling dialogue between God and man. Implicitly they want to penetrate the
strictly divine and become divine themselves. What drives them is hubris.”
d.
Being the realm of divine-human encounter, sacred space is both a divine creation
and subject to divine prerogative. It belongs to God alone to establish communion
with His image-bearers, and, in just recompense for Adam and Eve’s quest for
independence, God had driven them from His presence. If sacred space were to be
recovered and God’s purpose for His creation were to be realized, it would not
come through human effort, even the collective effort of a unified human race.
Cain intended his offering to close the distance between himself and God and
thereby gain advantage. His effort failed, and now the collective race of men had
attempted the same thing, only to realize the same outcome. God “scattered”
Cain, making him a wanderer in the earth, and He likewise dispersed the rebels
who had converged at Babel (11:7-9). Never again in the present scheme of things
would there be a unified humanity; human estrangement had taken on a
heightened dimension. Let men conceive and aspire as they will, God will neither
be mocked nor resisted (11:4); Adam’s race would indeed fill the earth as charged
– not in the blessedness of regal image-sons, but as forcibly scattered exiles.
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B.
The Patriarchal Period – The Abrahamic Covenant
The book of Genesis is structured around ten “generations” sections, but the overall direction and
emphasis of these sections reveal that the content of chapters 1-11 sets the stage for the
patriarchal narratives that are the focal point of the Genesis storyline. That is to say, Adam’s line
of descent in Genesis has its primary point of concern in Abraham, and more narrowly, in God’s
covenant with him. This is because the Abrahamic Covenant is the covenantal foundation for the
entire salvation history as it advances toward the fulfillment of the protoevangelium (3:15).
With respect to the preparatory role of the early chapters of Genesis, the first two establish the
creational structure and function that serve as the template for God’s true kingdom – the
kingdom that would be represented typologically in the Israelite theocracy and later be a central
theme in the prophetic writings. The next eight chapters recount the calamity of the Fall and the
desperate predicament brought upon the created order due to man’s estrangement from God. But
at the center of that predicament is God’s promise of deliverance, and chapter 12 begins to
unfold God’s response in view of that promise. Thus the first eleven chapters of Genesis have a
universal focus and establish a biblical worldview in the context of the curse. The call of Abram
narrows the focus to one man and formally initiates the process of restoration only portrayed in
the Flood episode. In terms of the immediately preceding context (11:1-9), the call of Abram and
the Abrahamic Covenant provide God’s answer to the human assertion at Babel.
-
There the human race determined to establish its own independent glory and thereby
make a name for itself. In that way it effectively – if not consciously – sought to bypass
the salvation history God purposed from all eternity.
-
But human intention notwithstanding, God had promised a Seed in Eden who, unlike
collective humanity at Babel, wouldn’t merely affirm man in the context of the curse, but
would overthrow the curse, thereby restoring man to his true glory. That promise had
advanced to reside with Shem – the man whose name meant name. Through Noah’s
prophetic blessing, God had declared Himself to be the God of Shem, and the implication
of that declaration is that Shem would be the progenitor of the promised Seed.
So it is that the text moves immediately from the Babel episode to Shem’s genealogy as it came
to rest in Abraham (11:10-26). At Babel men had sought to make a name for themselves, but
God’s answer was that human greatness was not to be realized in that way. Mankind would
indeed attain glory and greatness, but the true glory of its identity as God’s image-son, not the
self-glory of an autonomous pseudo-god. The human race was to find its greatness realized in
God’s determination to make Abraham’s name great.
And if Abraham – as the beginning of God’s answer to Babel and what it represents – is the focal
point for the salvation history and its goal in the restoration of all things, it follows that he should
also be associated with the recovery of sacred space. For sacred space speaks to the fully
intimate communion of man and God – the communion which was lost in Eden and replaced
with distance and alienation. If Abraham was God’s chosen instrument to bring man back to
Himself, then Abraham is the key to the recovery of sacred space. This is exactly what the
Scripture indicates.
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1.
Abraham
The Abraham narrative begins in Ur of the Chaldees where a Shemite named Terah
became the father of three sons: Haran, Nahor, and Abram. Of the three, Abram is the
man whom God chose to perpetuate the chosen line of descent from Eve through Seth,
Noah, and Shem. Though Haran would play a role in future events through his son Lot
(who himself was the father of Ammon and Moab), Abram is the primary character in the
Old Testament salvation history, and so also the focus of the balance of Genesis (whether
in his own right, or in his covenant son and grandson).
a.
Abram’s own story originates with God’s call and charge to him (12:1-3).
Nothing is known about his personal life prior to that event because it’s of no
importance to the biblical storyline. What matters is Abram’s divine appointment
and its significance for the salvation history.
God’s call to Abram formed the foundation for His covenant with him, though the
covenant itself wouldn’t be ratified for several years (Genesis 15:1ff). That first
encounter consisted of God’s charge to Abram to leave his country and family
and journey to a land that He would show him. In connection with that charge the
Lord declared His intention and commitment to Abram in seven particulars
centered in the principle of blessing:
1)
The first four are closely related: God would make Abram into a great
nation, implying first that he would have descendents, but also that those
descendents would go on to become a mighty nation. In that way,
especially, God would bless Abram. But He would bless him personally as
well: Abram would himself become a great man, and through his greatness
he was to be a blessing to others (12:2).
2)
The next three affirmations together help to clarify the basis and
significance of Abram’s greatness and how it was that he would be a
blessing to others: Abram’s greatness was bound up in his favor and status
with God. He was to be God’s chosen man; therefore, the Lord would
bless those who blessed him and curse those who cursed him (12:3). Not
just for his own descendents or generation, Abram was to be the conduit
for divine blessing for all the earth’s families in every time and place.
God’s multi-faceted promise in these verses pertained first to Abram’s personal
descendents, but also ultimately to the whole world of men. Out of the countless
nations that had arisen since Babel (ref. 10:1ff), God was now going to raise up a
new nation having its origin in Abram. And somehow (though at this point the
connection and mechanism aren’t evident) that one chosen nation – as an
extension of Abram himself – would be the source of blessing for all the families
of the earth. Notably, God’s promise to Abram of worldwide blessing carried
forward His charge to Adam in Eden (and reiterated to Noah) to multiply and fill
the earth, thereby making His presence and glory universally known.
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In terms of its larger biblical significance, the Abrahamic Covenant binds together
the creational charge in Eden and its ultimate fulfillment in the restoration of all
things in Christ: What was introduced with Adam is being fully realized in the
second Adam who is the Seed of Abraham. The command to fill and subdue is the
obligation of mediated blessing that culminates in the “knowledge of God
covering the earth as the waters cover the seas.” Greg Beale aptly observes:
“The mention of ‘all the nations of the earth’ being ‘blessed’ by Abraham’s ‘seed’
alludes to a renewed human community bearing God’s image and ‘filling the
earth’ with regenerated progeny who also reflect God’s image and shine out its
luminosity to others in the ‘city of man’ who do not rebel and also come to reflect
God. Thus, these new converts are ‘blessed’ with the favour of God’s presence
and become a part of God’s ever-increasing kingdom.”
(The Temple and the Church’s Mission)
b.
God’s promise to Abram was attached to His command that Abram leave
Mesopotamia and go to a land that He would show him. The biblical record
indicates that Abram departed with his father and household and traveled along a
caravan route that eventually took him to Haran (cf. 11:31; Acts 7:2-4). After
Terah died, Abram departed Haran with his wife and his nephew Lot and headed
west into Canaan (12:4-5). There Abram built his first altar to the Lord (12:6-7).
Two things are important to note about this event:
1)
First of all, this is the first mention of an altar subsequent to the altar Noah
built when he came off the ark. As with Noah before him, Abram’s altar
was constructed in response to divine revelation. Having brought Abram
into Canaan, God revealed to him that this was the end of his journey;
Canaan was to be given to him and his descendents for an inheritance. The
divine promise to make Abram a great nation implied a land for that
nation to dwell in, and now Abram learned that Canaan was that land.
2)
Canaan was to be Abram’s inheritance (cf. 13:14-18), but God was the
One giving it to Him as an endowment; as the Creator of all things,
Canaan was the Lord’s possession. But God’s connection with Canaan
was more intimate than that: The Lord had led Abram into this land, and
now spoke to him as he arrived at Shechem in Canaan’s northern hill
country. The reason Abram constructed an altar in that place was that he
perceived God to be present with him there. The narrative reinforces this
by specifically mentioning that God appeared to Abram at Shechem.
This passage importantly provides the first indication in the biblical text
that Canaan was to become sacred space for Abram and his descendents.
From this point the Scripture only continues to build upon this core theme,
and will speak of Canaan in the imagery of Eden, and so also the place of
Yahweh’s sanctuary (cf. Exodus 3:6-8 and Numbers 13:16-27; also
Exodus 15:17 and 25:1-8).
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c.
From Shechem Abram journeyed south to the area around Bethel and there he
built his second altar to the God who had led him into this land. Once again the
text emphasizes God’s presence with Abram, this time noting that he “called
upon the name of the Lord” (12:8; cf. 4:26). Abram called upon God because he
was convinced He was present with him in that place.
d.
At that time a famine arose in Canaan and Abram headed south and west into
Egypt where he hoped to find food. The ensuing episode involving Sarah and the
Egyptian pharaoh testifies to God’s commitment to His promise to give Abram
descendents (which is crucial to the biblical storyline), but, as it regards the
present study, what is important to observe is that Abram built no altar in Egypt,
though God clearly made Himself known by intervening in restoring Sarah.
e.
When Abram departed Egypt for Canaan he returned to the place near Bethel
where he had erected his second altar. There, at the altar in the promised land,
Abram again called on Yahweh’s name (13:1-4). Abram was again in the
presence of the Lord in His sacred space. At this point in salvation history, sacred
space assumed a localized quality associated with discrete altars. But the
following context reinforces the previous observation that eventually Canaan
itself was to be God’s sanctuary (13:14-18). Abram had already constructed two
altars in two different locations, and more would follow. Eventually Abram and
his descendents would possess the whole land as the covenant kingdom.
Having settled in the land of Canaan (13:12), God told Abram that his inheritance
would comprise all that his eyes could see. Moreover, He would give Abram
countless descendents to inhabit and rule this land as a great nation. According to
divine promise, the covenant seed would inherit and subdue Canaan, and Abram
was therefore commanded to symbolically take dominion over it by walking
through its expanse, setting his feet – signifying possession – on every part of it.
All of Canaan was to become God’s sanctuary, and thus Abram moved on to
Hebron where he built his third altar to the Lord. From Shechem in the north,
through Bethel and as far south as Hebron, sacred space was expanding.
f.
In the succeeding years God continued to reinforce and develop His covenant
with Abram. God had promised him that he would become a great nation, but he
and Sarah were well past child-bearing age and had no heir. Abram’s only
reasonable conclusion was that the promise was to be realized through an adopted
heir (15:1-3). But God revealed that Abram would indeed have an heir from his
own body (v. 4), and that son was to be the source of the nation promised to him
(15:5-7). Abram’s own offspring would inherit the land, and with that definition
in place God formalized His covenant in a ratifying ritual (vv. 8-17). That ritual,
in turn, served as the occasion for the further disclosure that fulfillment of the
promise would not be immediately forthcoming. God’s purpose was to produce
the Abrahamic nation and its greatness from within the crucible of enslavement
and oppression. In that way the whole world would know that Yahweh is God –
that He sovereignly fulfills His promise against impossible odds (15:18-21).
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g.
Soon Abram and Sarah tried to fulfill the promise of an heir naturally through
Hagar, Sarah’s handmaiden. But God’s intention was supernatural provision, and
thirteen years later He informed Abram that Sarah would bear the promised Seed.
At that time God also expanded upon His promise of global blessing by declaring
to Abram that his fatherhood was to extend to many peoples. Abram was thus
renamed Abraham (“father of many peoples”) (17:1-6). Connecting this with
God’s original promise in 12:1-3, it becomes evident that the earth’s families
were to be blessed through Abram by becoming part of his family. And being
reckoned as his descendents, these nations were also to be heirs of the covenant
land together with his natural offspring. Furthermore, in view of the evolving
conception of Canaan as sacred space, it follows that all those under Abraham’s
fatherhood were to be inhabitants of God’s dwelling place. This is exactly the
point God was making, as shown by His oath that He would be the God of
Abraham’s descendents just as He had been Abraham’s God (17:7-8).
God was extending Abraham’s fatherhood beyond his natural line, and this
required that there be some mark of Abrahamic descent other than physical
lineage. That mark was circumcision, and Abraham accordingly circumcised all
the males connected to his household (17:9-14, 24-27). And as Abram had
become Abraham, so Sarai was now Sarah (“princess”). Beyond the physical
covenant heir, Sarah was to be the mother of nations and kings (cf. 17:4-6, 15-16).
h.
To this point Abraham had symbolically extended sacred space within Canaan
from Shechem to Hebron, where he resided for many years. But after the
destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah he journeyed farther south and west to Gerar
(a town and district within future Philistia). There he and Sarah experienced a
virtual repetition of the previous incident in Egypt (20:1-18). Once again God
intervened and delivered Sarah from her husband’s unbelief that jeopardized the
seed promise, but this encounter with Abimelech, the king of Gerar, also served
another important purpose in the outworking of the covenant. It established for
Abimelech Abraham’s greatness as God’s chosen instrument and mediator of
divine blessing (ref. esp. vv. 1-7, 14-18). Though Abimelech was blameless in his
dealings with Sarah, his favor before God – associated in context with God’s
restoring life to him and his household – depended upon Abraham’s mediation.
This event provides the context for Abraham’s next altar building episode. After
Isaac’s birth, Abraham continued to dwell in the region around Gerar and this
troubled Abimelech. Having experienced first-hand Abraham’s greatness and the
greatness of his God (and perhaps learning of the birth of Isaac and God’s
promise in connection with him), Abimelech feared for his country and rule. And
so this mighty king, along with the commander of his army, came out personally
to Abraham to implore him to act favorably toward his kingdom (21:22-23).
Abraham was not a king and he commanded no army, yet this powerful Canaanite
ruler came humbly before him seeking his favor. Abimelech recognized what the
Genesis narrative previously emphasized in Abraham’s battle with the four kings:
Abraham was great because God was with him (14:1-24).
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Abraham agreed to deal favorably with the king and his kingdom, but he also
complained that Abimelech’s servants had seized his well, thereby attempting to
drive him from Gerar, and he demanded that it be restored to him (vv. 24-26). In
order to formalize their mutual agreement, Abraham and Abimelech made a
covenant and Abraham took seven ewe lambs from his flock and gave them to
Abimelech as a testimony to him and all his servants and subjects that the well
belonged to him (vv. 27-30). In commemoration, Abraham named the place of his
well Beersheba (“well of seven” or “well of oath”) and planted a tamarisk tree
there. Several observations show the importance of this event:
1)
First of all, Abraham’s well at Beersheba constituted his first real foothold
in Canaan. Settled life in an arid land requires a continual source of water,
and so communities in the ancient Near East formed around rivers and
wells. Where a person had permanent rights to a well, he was able to
sustain an ongoing presence in that area. Thus Abimelech’s grant to
Abraham (together with Abraham’s oath to the Philistine king) points back
to God’s covenant grant and highlights the principle of Abraham’s
permanent presence in the land (ref. again Genesis 12:7, 13:14-17).
2)
The tamarisk tree serves to reinforce this truth. The fact that Abraham
called on the name of the Lord after planting it indicates that this tree
represented a kind of altar – a symbolic representation of sacred space.
But if this was the case, why a tree, and why a tamarisk tree in particular?
The answer is found in the qualities of this species of tree. The tamarisk is
known for its hardiness and ability to survive even in hostile, salty soil,
and so speaks of perpetual, flourishing life in the face of adverse and even
impossible circumstance. Recognizing the significance of this encounter
and his covenant with Abimelech, Abraham planted a tamarisk by the well
at Beersheba as perpetual testimony that God Himself is a covenantkeeping God. Beersheba epitomizes God’s faithfulness to give His
covenant people the land of promise, and Abraham accordingly rendered
it a shrine dedicated to Yahweh, the Everlasting God (cf. 22:19, 26:23-25,
46:1-4). Though his descendents would spend centuries outside the land
awaiting the appointed day of their inheritance, the tamarisk promised that
Canaan was theirs; it spoke of perpetuity in God’s sanctuary land.
3)
It is also important that Beersheba was located on the border of the future
Philistine kingdom. The Philistines would prove to be enemies of
Abraham’s descendents throughout their generations, but God’s promise
was sure; Abraham’s foothold in Canaan was the earnest of Israel’s future
full possession and dominion. One day, according to God’s oath, the
Abrahamic nation would reach the height of its greatness and then David –
the regal son of Abraham – would arise to fully vanquish the Philistine
enemy. The tamarisk tree at Beersheba spoke of the day when Goliath’s
head would fall to the ground and Abraham’s seed would rule over all the
region from the Euphrates to the Nile (Genesis 15:18ff; 1 Kings 4:21-25).
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i.
At the heart of the Abrahamic Covenant was God’s promise of a seed. It was
introduced with the declaration that Abraham would become a great nation (12:2,
cf. 13:14-16), and God ascribed this seed to Abraham’s own line of descent at the
time the covenant was ratified (15:1-5). Years later the Lord revealed that Sarah
was to be the mother of this heir (17:15-19), and when Abraham was a hundred
years old, the promise was finally fulfilled with the birth of Isaac (ref. 21:1-7).
The Abrahamic Covenant focused on land, seed, and blessing, and Isaac
represented the foundational point of fulfillment with respect to all its particulars:
He was to be the progenitor of the great nation promised to Abraham, and so also
the basis for that nation’s possession of the covenant land. Most importantly, the
overarching promise of global blessing was bound up in Isaac; what God first
promised to Abraham (12:3) would now be taken up in his son (22:18).
God had given Abraham a descendent just as He promised – not merely a son, but
a son of the covenant. Isaac was the appointed heir of all that the covenant spoke
of and promised; he would carry the covenant into the future. Among other
things, what this means is that the continuance of the covenant unto its promised
fulfillment, along with God’s veracity regarding it, depended upon Isaac. If God
were to fulfill His word to Abraham – and thereby show Himself truthful and
faithful – Isaac would have to grow to adulthood and father his own children. For
Isaac was the promised seed, and so also the source of the innumerable multitude
of Abrahamic descendents (ref. again 15:1-5).
Thus Abraham’s final altar building episode was the most significant. Whereas
his previous altars all testified to the enduring quality of the covenant and God’s
ongoing faithfulness respecting it, this final one brought the covenant itself – and,
by implication, God’s integrity – into jeopardy. For on this altar Abraham was to
offer a sacrifice – the sacrifice of the covenant son.
1)
The episode at Moriah began with a second call to Abraham. As He had
done many years earlier (12:1), God once again called Abraham to arise
and go to an undisclosed place (22:1-2). These calls have two primary
things in common, and the writer highlights their commonality by using in
both a Hebrew construction found nowhere else. First, each call embodied
a test of Abraham’s faith. But more than that, each implicated the
covenant God made with him: The first call served as the foundation for
introducing the covenant; the latter one appeared to be its death knell.
God didn’t wait until Abraham arrived at his destination to inform him of
the reason for the journey; He told him up front that it had its goal in
Isaac’s death. That God would command someone to take the life of his
own child seems incomprehensible, but the enormity of what was being
required of Abraham only becomes clear when God’s demand is placed in
its salvation-historical context. God was requiring Abraham to trust Him
and His faithfulness in the context of an impossible situation.
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The severity of God’s demand was not that it called Abraham to slay his
own child (though many go no further than this in their consideration).
Neither was it that Abraham was to regard this slaying as an act of
worship (ref. 22:5). Its severity lay in the crisis of faith it engendered:
God’s command to sacrifice Isaac introduced a dilemma that, to all
appearances, made His fulfillment of His covenant oath impossible. It
forced Abraham to make a decision of faith: Would he believe God with
respect to the sacrifice of the covenant heir, or would he believe Him
regarding the covenant promise? It appeared that he couldn’t do both, for
to slay Isaac was to accept that God had abandoned His promise
concerning him; on the other hand, believing God’s promise seemed to
mean that he had to withhold Isaac, which disobedience is itself unbelief.
But what God was requiring of Abraham was that he would simply believe
Him – nothing more and nothing less. He was calling him to offer his son
in worship as a burnt offering while, at the same time, holding tightly to
the covenant promises that were bound up in that son. Abraham was being
called to trust God implicitly, and he was given three long days in which
to grapple with his faith while looking upon the covenant son by his side.
“The command [to sacrifice Isaac] teeters on the edge of morality. We are
left with the inexplicable and exacting realization that faith demands
radical obedience. Abraham is asked to behave in a way that is illogical,
absurd, and, to say the least, nonconventional from the human
perspective. Within the biblical world view, however, such radical
behavior proves the true nature of biblical faith.” (Bruce Waltke, Genesis)
2)
God was calling Abraham to believe Him – however incomprehensible
and even outrageous His purpose and directives might appear, and the fact
that he had passed this test of faith is evident even before the sacrifice
occurred. When he and his party arrived near the appointed place of
sacrifice, Abraham instructed his servants to wait for him there. He and
Isaac were going to worship the Lord, and afterward they would return
(22:4-5). The text seems at first to suggest that Abraham believed God
would provide a sacrificial substitute for Isaac (ref. 22:7-8), but his action
at the altar indicates otherwise (vv. 9-10).
When Abraham told Isaac that the Lord would provide the lamb for the
sacrifice, he wasn’t speaking of a substitute animal as many presume; he
was referring to Isaac himself. God had provided the sacrificial lamb in
the son of the covenant. Abraham had every intention of sacrificing Isaac,
and yet his insistence to his servants that both of them would return
reveals his confidence that God was not abandoning His covenant
promise. The author of Hebrews provides insight into Abraham’s thought
process: He would indeed slay his son as commanded, but he reasoned
that God was going to raise Isaac from the dead (11:17-19).
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3)
With that confidence, Abraham set off with Isaac and built a sacrificial
altar there on the mountain. After arranging the wood, he bound his son,
laid him on the altar and raised his knife to slay him. But before Abraham
could take Isaac’s life, the angel of the Lord called out to him and told him
to withdraw his hand (22:9-12). Abraham had demonstrated his faith: He
had not withheld from God his only-begotten son – the son of the
covenant. Moments earlier he had insisted to Isaac that God would provide
the sacrifice, and now his words were being fulfilled in an unexpected
way. As he raised his eyes he saw a ram caught in a thicket near the altar.
Unbinding his son and removing him from the altar, Abraham went and
took hold of the ram and offered it to the Lord in Isaac’s place. And as he
had done at Beersheba when he named the place of his well and called
upon the Lord in order to consecrate it as sacred space, Abraham named
the sacrificial site on Mount Moriah Yahweh Jireh – the Lord “sees” and
therefore will provide (22:13-14).
4)
Following the sacrifice of the ram, the angel of the Lord called to
Abraham again, this time affirming the promises of the covenant in view
of his obedience in offering his son (vv. 15-19). This affirmation serves as
the climax of the entire episode and therefore requires careful comment.
Of first importance is that the angel’s words don’t imply that God’s
determination to fulfill His covenant vows to Abraham depended upon
Abraham’s obedience. The entire Abraham narrative to this point
emphasizes God’s continuing faithfulness to His covenant in spite of
Abraham’s unbelief and unrighteousness (cf. esp. 12:10-20, 20:1-18). As
with Abraham’s obligation of obedience in regard to circumcision (cf.
17:1-2, 9-11), his obedience in offering Isaac didn’t determine the
fulfillment of the covenant; rather, it served, by divine design, to further
disclose the covenant’s historical and salvation-historical significance.
That is, Abraham’s sacrifice of Isaac and God’s provision of a substitute
added a crucial dimension to the promises of the covenant in terms of how
God would fulfill them. At the heart of the covenant was God’s promise
that His blessing would flow to all the earth’s families through Abraham
(and now through Isaac – 22:18), and the sacrifice at Moriah provided
insight into how that was to be accomplished:
God’s promise of global blessing was now bound up in Isaac: The
sacrificial Abrahamic seed – raised from the dead in connection with an
acceptable substitutionary offering – would mediate the blessings of the
Abrahamic Covenant to all the nations. And to the extent that the world of
men would follow Abraham’s example, believing God for His promises
and yielding themselves in submissive trust to His provision of a
substitute, they would show themselves to be his true children and,
therefore, heirs of the promises made to him.
41
Meredith Kline provides this summary: “Abraham had complied with
God’s directions to prepare the altar on the mount of Moriah and to
proceed with the slaying and offering there of Isaac, his only and beloved
son. Intervening as Abraham laid hold of the sacrificial knife, the Lord
had provided the ram as a substitute offering in Isaac’s place. Thereupon,
the Lord swore by himself that he would surely perform the full
complement of covenant promises, culminating in the gospel promise of
the blessing of the nations through Abraham’s seed. Interpreted in its
setting, this oath was a commitment by God not to spare his own Son but
to deliver him up as our sacrificial substitute.” (Kingdom Prologue)
In this statement Kline hints at another important consideration, which is
the typological connection between Abraham’s obedience and that of his
unique Seed. Abraham’s compliance in offering Isaac didn’t merit God’s
commitment to fulfill His promises, but it did show how a sacrificial act of
obedience would earn their fulfillment. The realization of the covenant
promises – first in relation to the nation of Israel, but then in their ultimacy
– depended upon the sacrifice of the covenant son in obedience to God.
Again, Kline’s comments are helpful: “Within this typological structure
Abraham emerges as an appointed sign of his promised messianic seed,
the Servant of the Lord, whose fulfillment of his covenantal mission was
the meritorious ground of the inheritance of the antitypical, eschatological
kingdom by the true, elect Israel of all nations.”
The completion of the sacrifice on Mount Moriah elicited God’s
reiteration of His commitment to fulfill the covenant, and so also had
important implications for the future recovery of sacred space. If God’s
blessing was to come to all the nations as a direct outcome of the
sacrificial offering of Abraham’s covenant son (typified at Moriah and
fulfilled at Calvary), then that same offering would also be instrumental in
the overthrow of the curse and the restoration of the shalomic order to
which God’s universal blessing points.
The altar on Moriah represented more than simply Abraham’s last altar in the
promised land; it was the greatest of those altars in that it carried forward and
brought to a high point the covenantal significance of its predecessors. In their
turn, Abraham’s altars at Shechem, Bethel, and Hebron and the tree-shrine at
Beersheba each acted to reinforce the truth that God’s covenant grant of Canaan
would indeed be realized for Abraham’s descendents. The altar at Moriah is
presented as the climax of the Abraham narrative because the sacrifice offered
there made the covenant absolutely sure. All the promises bound up in it –
including the grant of Canaan as sacred space – were now secured by the Lord
Himself by virtue of the acceptable substitutionary sacrifice He provided. As
much as the Moriah episode displays Abraham’s faith at its apex, it does the same
with regard to God’s covenant faithfulness, ending climactically as it does with
the sovereign Lord’s solemn guarantee to fulfill all His good word to Abraham.
42
2.
Isaac
The offering at Moriah stands as the climax of the Abraham narrative, and so the high
point of Abraham’s life in covenant with God. The angel’s declaration following his
sacrifice of the ram indicates that the covenant was now to be transferred to Isaac (cf.
12:3 and 22:18). Abraham had fulfilled his role in the inauguration and development of
the covenant, and the time had come for Yahweh to become the God of Isaac. This
transference is evident in the particulars of the Isaac narrative in chapters 24-26.
a.
Following God’s reaffirmation of the covenant in relation to Isaac, the text turns
its attention to the obtaining of the next covenant matriarch. Isaac was to replace
Abraham as the covenant patriarch, and so there also needed to be a replacement
for Sarah. If the promise of a multitude of descendents was to be realized, God
would have to provide a wife for the covenant heir.
Sarah’s replacement is appropriately the first matter of concern in the Isaac
narrative, and the text emphasizes this transition by sandwiching Sarah’s death
between Rebekah’s genealogy (22:20-24) and her marriage to Isaac (24:1ff).
Sarah’s replacement enters the narrative before she passes away, and no sooner
does Sarah die than Rebekah assumes her place. Rebekah is the new covenant
matriarch, and the text makes this clear in three respects:
1)
The first looks toward the future and so has to do with promise. Rebekah
is introduced as a member of the larger Abrahamic household, and when
she left with Abraham’s servant to join Isaac in matrimony, her family
pronounced a prophetic blessing upon her that intimately connected her to
the covenant and its promises (cf. 24:60 with 22:16-17).
2)
The second is set in the context of fulfillment. Having taken Rebekah as
his wife, the new covenant patriarch brought her into his mother’s tent and
there consummated his union with her (24:67). Rebekah had entered into
Sarah’s place and would carry forward the covenant promises to her;
Rebekah would indeed become the mother of thousands of ten thousands –
a great nation that would possess the gates of their enemies.
3)
The final indication in the text of Rebekah’s status proceeds out of the
previous one. Rebekah had become the new covenant matriarch, but she
was bearing no children. Like Sarah before her, Rebekah was barren, and
Isaac was compelled to implore the Lord for His favor toward her (25:21).
With the first covenant pair, the fulfillment of the promise of a descendent
depended upon the Lord’s sovereign power. Isaac was, in every sense, the
miraculous child of promise, and so it was to be with the third generation
seed. If Isaac and barren Rebekah were to become the progenitors of a
multitude of descendents (cf. again 21:12, 22:17, 26:1-5, 23-24 with
24:60), the Lord of the covenant would have to intervene and fulfill the
promise through His own divine power.
43
b.
The next context reinforces Isaac’s role as Abraham’s replacement by
emphasizing his unique covenant status.
1)
After Sarah’s death Abraham remarried and his second wife bore six sons
for him. Though, like Ishmael, they were legitimate sons of the first
patriarch, they were not Sarah’s offspring, and therefore not sons of the
covenant. And so, while the six sons of Keturah received earthly
endowments from their father Abraham, they remained outside the
covenant: They were sent away from Isaac to reside in the area east of the
promised land (25:1-6, cf. 3:24, 4:16, and 11:2 for the significance of
dwelling to the east away from the sanctuary land).
2)
The text further highlights Isaac’s status by providing and commenting on
Ishmael’s genealogy (25:12-18). In parallel with the covenant seed – and
in accordance with God’s promise regarding him (16:10, 17:20), Ishmael
also became the father of twelve royal tribes. But his descendents would
not inherit the covenant and its promises.
Like the descendents of Keturah’s sons, Ishmael’s descendents were
outside of the covenant household. Their inhabitation was south and east
of Canaan from the desert of Shur on the Sinai Peninsula to Havilah going
east toward Assyria. God had appeared to Hagar and made His promises
to her and her son at Beer-lahai-roi, but that site was now Isaac’s dwelling
place; symbolically, he had displaced his brother (cf. 16:19-20, 25:11).
c.
Immediately following Ishmael’s genealogy, Genesis provides a brief account of
Isaac’s “generations” in terms of his sons Jacob and Esau (25:19-34). The purpose
for this passage is to introduce the next covenant generation, much as Rebekah’s
genealogy was provided before her actual entrance into the storyline. It does so by
relating the transference of the birthright from Esau to Jacob, and is paralleled by
the account of Jacob receiving Isaac’s blessing in chapter 27. In between these
two contexts focusing on Jacob and Esau, the author inserts his account of a
period in Isaac’s life that preceded the birth of the twins (26:1-11). Bruce Waltke
comments on the reason for this insertion:
“Obviously the story [in 26:1-11] is anachronous [that is, chronologically out of
sequence], for if Isaac and Rebecca had children, their marriage would have been
apparent to the Philistines from the beginning. The narrator often arranges
scenes by poetic and theological concerns rather than chronology. This scene has
been carefully placed between the deception stories of the birthright and the
blessing. God’s obvious blessings to Isaac in this scene illustrate the protection
and prosperity entailed in the inheritance of blessing.” (Genesis Commentary)
Waltke’s point is that the narrator’s intent was to highlight the significance of the
covenant birthright and blessing by interjecting between them a context (chapter
26) that shows in broad terms just what the covenant granted to its possessor.
44
And so, after addressing Jacob’s obtainment of the birthright, the narrative returns
to Isaac and the early years of his marriage to Rebekah. It recounts three of the
patriarch’s experiences that are notable by being almost identical recurrences of
ones Abraham had had. In this way as well, the text emphasizes that Isaac has
assumed the place and role of his covenant father.
1)
The first involves a famine that drove Isaac and Rebekah to Gerar in the
land of the Philistines (26:1ff; cf. 20:1). There Isaac repeated his father’s
sin, claiming to the men of that region that Rebekah was his sister out of
fear for his own life. After some time, God providentially arranged for
Abimelech to discover the truth, and as he had done many years earlier,
the king confronted the covenant patriarch with his offense (26:8-10).
Isaac’s deed paralleled his father’s, but so did its implication for the
fulfillment of the covenant. When Isaac arrived in Gerar, God appeared to
him and instructed him to remain there rather than go down to Egypt in
search of food. (The day would soon come when the covenant seed would
depart Canaan because of famine and sojourn in Egypt, but that time had
not yet arrived.) Isaac was to remain in the land with the confidence that
the Lord of the covenant was with him and would surely bless him as He
had his father before him (26:2-5).
In the light of that assurance, his unbelief is astonishing: Like his father,
Isaac had no reason to fear the men of Gerar, and his readiness to hand
over Rebekah to another man showed willful disregard for the covenant
and its fulfillment. But once again God intervened to preserve His
covenant in the face of human unbelief and unfaithfulness.
By his action Isaac showed contempt for the covenant, but God upheld it
nonetheless just as He had done with Abraham. The Lord who had passed
alone between the halves of the sacrificial animals when the covenant was
ratified continued to prove Himself faithful. He prospered Abraham during
his time in Gerar (ref. 20:14-15) and exalted him as a mighty man in the
sight of Abimelech and his subjects, and so it would be with Isaac.
Isaac’s presence in the land of the Philistines was more settled than his
father’s, and God testified of His future plan for His covenant people in
Canaan by causing the land to yield abundantly for Isaac during his
sojourn there (26:12-14). Faced with famine, Isaac and Rebekah had
headed south and west in search of food, intending to go as far as Egypt.
But God instructed him not to leave Canaan, but to remain in the border
region of Gerar with the promise that He would provide for him and bless
him greatly. And so it was; by the Lord’s hand of blessing Isaac reaped a
hundredfold and increased greatly in flocks and herds. The covenant
household would indeed endure, prosper, and possess the land – not
because of them, but because of the Lord who remains ever faithful.
45
2)
The second episode focuses on Beersheba, Abraham’s first permanent
foothold in the land. Abraham had dug the well at Beersheba – along with
several others – during his own stay in the land of Gerar, and in the years
following his death the residents of that area had filled them up. Later,
when Abimelech sent Isaac out of the city of Gerar into the surrounding
countryside, he reopened his father’s wells and assigned to them the
names Abraham had given them (26:15-18). By itself, this activity points
to Isaac’s status as the covenant successor to Abraham, but the narrative
goes beyond that in making the point.
As he journeyed to Beersheba the Lord again appeared to Isaac and
reaffirmed the covenant with him. This appearance is important in that it
came at the end of a period of opposition in which Isaac was forced to
abandon his own wells – his own foothold – in the region of Gerar. During
that time it may well have seemed to him that God had forgotten or
forsaken His promise to give him those lands (ref. again v. 4), and the
Lord’s appearance at Beersheba addressed that concern (26:23-25). That
this theophany occurred at Beersheba is significant for at least two
reasons. The first is that Beersheba was Abraham’s first true possession in
the land of Canaan. It constituted a germinal fulfillment of God’s covenant
promise, and so it was entirely appropriate that God would reiterate the
promise to Isaac in that place. But Beersheba was also a foundational
expression of sacred space. As Abraham’s land grant at Beersheba
promised the future possession of all of Canaan, so the shrine he built
there looked to the day when the entire land would be God’s sanctuary.
God’s appearance to Isaac at Beersheba reinforced His promise regarding
Canaan – both its possession and its holy status. Acknowledging this,
Isaac built his own altar and called upon God’s name, further expressing
his faith by pitching his tent there and digging a second well (26:25).
3)
Lastly, as he had done with the first covenant patriarch many years earlier,
Abimelech came out to Isaac at Beersheba. Once again he came with
Phicol, the commander of his army, but this time he also brought one of
his advisors. The reason for his visit was exactly the same as it had been
with Abraham, and the encounter led to essentially the same result.
Abimelech came to ask Isaac’s favor for himself and his kingdom because
he recognized that God was with him as He had been with his father; Isaac
was now “the blessed of the Lord” (26:29). As such, Abimelech sought a
covenant with Isaac that would perpetuate the one he had made with
Abraham. And so, after feasting together, the king of Gerar exchanged
oaths with the new covenant patriarch (vv. 30-31). Isaac had assumed his
father’s place as God’s covenant son, and soon that title would pass to
Jacob. The Lord had determined to be the God of Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob; the blessing would join the birthright, and the promise would stand.
46
3.
Jacob
Jacob was the third in the line of covenant patriarchs. Consistent with the nature and
operation of the covenant, he – like his father and grandfather – represented the exertion
of sovereign initiative and power. As with Isaac, Jacob was born of a barren mother and,
being the younger son, was granted covenant status contrary to the normal order of
things. But in Jacob’s case, the principle of divine prerogative was even more
pronounced. For, whereas the covenant distinction between Isaac and Ishmael was
understandable, the only basis for it with Jacob and Esau was God’s sovereign choice (cf.
Genesis 25:21-23; Malachi 1:2-3; Romans 9:6-13).
In the movement of the Genesis narrative, the Abrahamic Covenant passes quickly from
Isaac to Jacob. From his introduction in chapter 25, Jacob’s story continues through the
balance of the book. There are at least two very evident reasons for the text affording him
so much narrative space:
-
The most obvious is the intimate relationship that exists between Jacob and Israel.
Jacob himself becomes “Israel,” and the nation of Israel emerged from him
through his twelve sons. Thus Jacob is the pivotal figure in the transition from the
covenant father Abraham to the “great nation” promised to him. Through Jacob,
possession of the covenant became a corporate phenomenon; the God of
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob became the God of Israel.
-
Jacob was the key figure in the evolution of the concept of the covenant seed, but
that was equally true with respect to the development of the idea of the covenant
land. It is in the Jacob narrative that the principle of exile comes to the forefront
as Jacob’s own experience foreshadowed his descendents’ sojourn in Egypt. And
inasmuch as the man Israel’s personal exile out of the land prefigured that of the
nation Israel, God’s dealings with Jacob indicated what the sons of Israel could
expect from Him in terms of their own exile and recovery to Canaan.
The Jacob narrative dominates the second half of Genesis because his story would prove
to be the story of Israel, and Israel is the focal concern in all the Old Testament, even as
the nation would find its own destiny and fulfillment in the singular “Israel” who is Jesus
Christ. Among other things, this means that the Jacob narrative plays a profound role in
the development of the revelation of redemption as it draws upon and advances God’s
covenant with Abraham in preparation for the coming of the promised Seed. In a word, to
understand Jacob’s story is to understand Israel’s story, and that, in turn, is to gain broad
insight into Israel’s Messiah.
a.
Jacob’s Departure from Canaan – Bethel
Jacob’s exile had its origin in the conspiracy to gain his father’s blessing. Though
God had revealed before their births that Jacob would supplant Esau as the next
covenant patriarch, he and his mother sought to obtain the blessing through guile.
The divine determination would stand, even if effected through human sin.
47
With the two components of the birthright and the patriarchal blessing in place,
Jacob had become the legitimate third member of the covenantal triad. But having
secured the blessing Esau believed belonged to him, Jacob was compelled to flee
from his brother’s wrath to his uncle Laban’s house. Notably, Jacob’s journey had
its point of departure at Beersheba, the sight where Abraham had established his
first secure presence in Canaan. At that time, Beersheba epitomized the covenant
grant of Canaan, and now Jacob was departing from it. He was fleeing from
Canaan into exile, but he was going as the heir of the covenant.
This is the context for God’s encounter with Jacob at Bethel (Genesis 28:10-15).
As Jacob traveled from Beersheba he bedded down one night only to have a
dream in which he saw a series of stairs extending from earth to heaven, and the
angels of God ascending and descending on them. At the top stood the covenant
Lord Himself, and as Jacob lifted his gaze the Lord spoke of His covenant and
Jacob’s relation to it. He revealed Himself as the God of Abraham and Isaac and
issued to Jacob the three key promises of the Abrahamic covenant, namely land,
seed, and blessing, and pledged His enduring faithfulness to him.
Jacob was departing Canaan, and, as he headed toward Haran (Paddan-aram), he
likely wondered whether he would ever return. But there was no uncertainty with
God: Jacob was the covenant son, and the land he was leaving had been endowed
by covenant to him and his descendents. He would surely return to Canaan, and
one day his progeny would possess it just as God had promised to Abraham and
Isaac. Jacob’s share in the covenant determined that he would return. But more
importantly, God declared that He would go with Jacob from the land and bless
him in the place of his sojourn before restoring him to Canaan.
In response to the dream and its revelation Jacob declared: “Surely the Lord is in
this place, and I did not know it.” Some have viewed this statement as indicating
that Jacob conceived of God as being like the deities of the nations – localized
entities whose domain was confined to the geographical regions possessed by the
people they represented. But his words expressed a different set of concerns, as
the following observations show:
1)
Of first importance is the fact that this visitation came shortly after Jacob
had received his father’s blessing. In terms of temporal requirements,
everything had been accomplished that was necessary for Jacob to assume
the decreed status of covenant patriarch in the place of Isaac (ref. 25:23).
2)
The dream came while Jacob was in flight from his home and his brother.
There is no doubt but that his own heart was convicted regarding his act of
deceit and the great anguish it had caused his father and brother. He had
gained the blessing, perhaps even with the confidence that this outcome
was what God had intended from the beginning. Nevertheless, it had been
gained at great cost, and now he had been forced to flee indefinitely from
his family and home and go a foreign place and an unfamiliar people.
48
This was the physical and emotional context of God’s appearance, and it helps to
bring out the significance of His words to Jacob and Jacob’s response to what he
saw and heard. God affirmed to him that the covenant he had made with Abraham
and Isaac applied to him as well. Despite the sinful circumstances of the blessing,
Jacob was its rightful recipient, and the covenant standing it implied belonged to
him. God was the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and his identity in the
covenant was unaffected by where he was residing or what he was doing. God
had set him apart and He would establish him. He would go with Jacob wherever
he went, and He would one day bring him back to his homeland and fulfill the
promise that the descendents of Abraham would possess it as an inheritance.
“The revelation was intended not only to stamp the blessing, with which Isaac
had dismissed him from his home, with the seal of divine approval, but also to
impress upon Jacob’s mind the fact that, although Jehovah would be near to
protect and guide him even in a foreign land, the land of promise was the holy
ground on which the God of his fathers would set up the covenant of His grace.
On his departure from that land, he was to carry with him a sacred awe of the
gracious presence of Jehovah there.” (Keil and Delitzsch)
Thus Jacob’s response was not an acknowledgement of divine omnipresence, but
an exclamation of his astonishment that the God of his fathers would condescend
to be near him in this foreign place and commit Himself to his welfare wherever
he went and under whatever circumstances he should find himself. Having
acknowledged God’s presence with him and His promises to him, Jacob took the
stone he had used for a pillow, set it up as a pillar and poured oil over it to
consecrate it as a memorial of God’s promise and mercy toward him.
He also renamed the nearby city Bethel, which means “house of God,” for he
believed that he was standing at the very gate of heaven. Finally, Jacob made a
vow to God, promising Him that if He would go with him and provide for the
needs of his journey, and eventually bring him back to his father’s house, then he
would be his God (vv. 20-22). While some have viewed Jacob’s vow as a rash act
of insubordination in which he was putting God to the test, nothing could be
further from the truth.
Jacob was not testing God or insisting upon personal benefit as the basis for
allegiance and submission. God Himself had pledged His care, covenant blessing,
and abiding faithfulness. He had promised Jacob that He would be with him and
would bring him back to the land of his fathers. Jacob’s vow was merely his
acknowledgment of God’s pledge and his own commitment to Him.
By performing what He had promised, this One who declared Himself to be the
God of his fathers would certify His identity, thus showing Himself to be the true
God who alone was worthy of Jacob’s devotion and service. Jacob’s vow was an
act of affirmation, and that’s why later, when God was about to bring him and his
family and possessions out of Haran, He reminded Jacob of it (31:1-13).
49
As Beersheba had been central to God’s relationship with Abraham and Isaac,
Bethel became the focal point of His relationship with Jacob (ref. 31:13, 35:1-15).
Like his fathers had done at Beersheba, Jacob made Bethel a shrine by erecting a
monument to God and calling upon Him (28:18-22). Not unexpectedly, the theme
of sacred space is developed in the shift of emphasis from Beersheba to Bethel:
-
Beersheba represented God’s faithfulness to establish His covenant people
in the land of promise. This is why Beersheba is associated with both of
Jacob’s “exiles” out of Canaan and God’s covenant oath in relation to
them (cf. 28:10-15, 46:1-7).
-
On the other hand, Bethel represented God’s promise to be the God of His
covenant people – not simply to bless them from afar, but to dwell in their
midst (28:13-17). And so it was that God represented Bethel to Jacob as
the place of the bridge between heaven and earth. In this way Bethel
prefigures the sacred space of the Israelite sanctuary, and ultimately the
true sanctuary that is Jesus Christ, who is Immanuel. Through Him, men
become the dwelling of God in the Holy Spirit. Bruce Waltke observes:
“God’s presence not only gives our identity eternal dignity and meaning
but also transforms our secular journey from a touring expedition into a
sacred pilgrimage [just as was the case with Jacob]… Simply becoming
aware of God’s presence transforms the meaning and sanctity of our
chartered paths. Our life is not simply a solitary wandering but a journey
to the holy city with the holy God.” (Commentary on Genesis)
b.
Jacob’s Prosperity in Exile – Haran
The next milestone in Jacob’s life encompassed his lengthy sojourn in Paddanaram (28:1-31:16). What was conceived at first as a brief stay (27:43-44) became
a 20-year absence from the patriarchal land (31:38-41). But Yahweh had
promised to go with Jacob and provide for him during his journey, and He was
faithful to fulfill His word. While in Haran, Jacob not only acquired two wives
and thirteen children, he effectively plundered his uncle Laban’s wealth – not
through his own guile or power, but the Lord’s sovereign hand (29:1-30:43).
God prospered the man Israel in his exile from the covenant land and then
delivered him from his oppressive servitude bearing his master’s wealth. This
episode in Jacob’s life would prove to be prophetic: It was to be repeated in the
experience of the nation of Israel descended from him. God had not forgotten his
word to Abraham (15:13-14); it would be fulfilled in the twelve tribes of Israel.
This personal triumph of the covenant seed over Laban, the Aramean, prefigured
Israel’s preeminence over Aram (Syria). Jacob had triumphed, not through
personal strength or ingenuity, but through the Lord’s power and blessing. His
triumph testified that the Lord of the covenant was faithful and true.
50
c.
Jacob’s Return to Canaan – Mahanaim and Peniel
Jacob served Laban faithfully for twenty years, and, though Laban sought
repeatedly to defraud and desolate his son-in-law, the Lord was with the covenant
patriarch and blessed him at every turn (30:25-31:42). The treatment calculated to
destroy Jacob only served to enhance his prosperity, and so it would be in the
experience of the nation to come from him (ref. Exodus 1:8-21). Now, having
been preserved and prospered under adversity, it was time for the covenant seed
to return to the land of promise.
Jacob had experienced a supernatural encounter with angels at Bethel when he
was departing Canaan, and now, as he journeyed back to the land, he encountered
God’s angels again (32:1-2). Their presence indicated God’s presence, and so
Jacob named that place Mahanaim (“two camps”) in recognition that both he and
God were sharing the same encampment. Nothing more is said about this
encounter, but the broader context reveals its significance within the storyline:
1)
Jacob was returning to Canaan, and he knew that meant he would
eventually have to deal with his estranged brother Esau. And so, filled
with all sorts of fearful thoughts, he sent a party to Esau to plead for his
favor toward him (32:3-5). But very shortly they returned with news that
Esau was on his way to meet Jacob along with four hundred of his men.
2)
Terrified, Jacob immediately set about formulating a plan: First, he
divided his family into two parties (two “camps”) in case Esau staged an
attack. But hoping to avoid that, he also sent back to his brother three
separate parties, strategically staged so that one party would arrive after
the other, each one bearing lavish gifts of appeasement (32:6-9, 13-20).
3)
Alongside his natural measures, Jacob turned to God in prayer, pleading
with Him to remember His oath at Bethel to preserve and prosper him in
his exile and bring him safely back into the promised land (32:9-12; ref.
also 28:13-15).
The significance of Mahanaim is seen in Jacob’s duplicity: He set about securing
his own encampment even while acknowledging that place as God’s camp. Jacob
knew God was with him there; most importantly, he knew that the Lord’s
presence reflected His enduring commitment to His oath at Bethel. God swore
that He would go with Jacob and preserve and prosper him, but specifically
toward the goal of bringing him back to Canaan and fulfilling the promise that his
innumerable descendents would possess that land. It was precisely that promise
that Isaac was appealing to in his prayer at the same time that he was seeking to
preserve his own life and those of his household. God had prospered Jacob and
given him descendents just as He said He would, and now He was bringing them
back to the covenant land (ref. again 31:3-13). Why, then, would he fear for his
family and his own well-being? God was about to answer Jacob’s petition.
51
After dispatching the three gift parties and sending his family across the river,
Jacob was left alone in his camp; there he was confronted by a man with whom he
wrestled until daybreak (32:21-24). Because of its surreal and mysterious
character, some have regarded this episode as non-historical. Among other
obvious problems with this conclusion, it raises the question of why the inspired
writer chose to record it as historical fact if indeed it was not; what did he intend
this mythological account to communicate to his Israelite audience?
Despite the interpretive difficulty it presents, this event clearly must be regarded
as an historical, physical encounter, for it left Jacob with a permanent physical
impairment. This being the case, it’s important to determine Jacob’s perception of
what was transpiring and his intention in wrestling with this strange man. One
thing that is immediately evident is that Jacob viewed this individual as
representing Yahweh Himself, and this is the reason he wouldn’t turn loose of
him until he had obtained his blessing (32:26). The man’s refusal to declare his
name highlights the obviousness of his identity, which Jacob then acknowledged
by naming that place Peniel – “face of God” (32:29-30; cf. also Hosea 12:3-5).
The stranger’s divine identity is further substantiated by the fact that he merely
touched the socket of Jacob’s thigh and it was instantly dislocated. Nevertheless,
Jacob managed to prevail over the man so as to obtain his blessing.
Even with his hip out of socket, Jacob refused to let go of his opponent until he
had gained a blessing for himself. Yet there was no arrogance toward God in this
encounter. The citation in Hosea makes it clear that he sought for the blessing
with tears and supplication. In fact, the Hebrew text of Hosea indicates that
Jacob’s prevailing was associated with his weeping and supplication, not his
physical victory. Jacob did not fight and overcome God; rather, he implored
God’s blessing with fervent tenacity and would not “let go” of Him until he had
obtained it. The result was that he named the place Peniel and God named him
Israel (“God prevails” or “he prevails with God”) (32:28).
The meaning of this episode becomes evident in the realization that it came in
response to Jacob’s petition to God to remember His covenant oath and protect
him (32:1-12). (This prayer is notable as the longest in the book of Genesis, which
serves to spotlight its content.) Jacob was now Israel; he had prevailed with God –
not by his own strength, but by virtue of his covenant favor with God – and in that
way had received the answer to his prayer: He would indeed triumph over his
brother, but because he had first successfully contended with God.
Thus when Jacob went out to Esau, he was met with an eager and joyful reception
(33:1-16). All his fearful strategizing had been nothing but foolish unbelief. His
God had gone before him and made his way prosperous. And so, departing from
Esau, Jacob journeyed on to Shechem where he erected an altar to his God who
had granted him his petition at Bethel (33:20, cf. 28:10-22). But God had called
Jacob to return to his father’s house in fulfillment of his vow at Bethel, and his
stopping short at Shechem would have disastrous results for the covenant family.
52
d.
Jacob’s Restored Presence in Canaan – Bethel
Upon his return to Canaan, Jacob settled with his family at Shechem and built an
altar there (33:18-20). Notably, Shechem was also the first stopping place for
Abraham in the land of Canaan, and the site of his first altar (ref. 12:4-7). But
God intended – in accordance with Jacob’s vow – for Jacob to return to the place
where he had issued his oath, and this meant continuing on past Shechem to
Bethel (cf. 28:20-22, 31:3, 13, 35:1). And while the text doesn’t state that Jacob’s
sojourn in Shechem constituted an act of direct disobedience, the threat to the
covenant that transpired there (ref. 34:1-31) highlights the fact that Shechem was
not the end of Jacob’s journey. If he were to fulfill his vow, he would need to
travel as far as Bethel.
After the calamity at Shechem God again called Jacob, and this time He instructed
him explicitly to return to Bethel (35:1). By setting up residence at Shechem
Jacob had mingled his family with the unbelieving Canaanites, and so when they
departed from that place they also left behind their foreign gods and Canaanite
trappings and adornments. Jacob had fallen short by stopping at Shechem, but
God would not allow Jacob’s covenant vow (and covenant journey) to go
unfulfilled. Once again, the text is careful to demonstrate that the promise and its
fulfillment depend on God and not men – even the covenant heirs.
It was Jacob’s arrival at Bethel that served to complete his journey to his father’s
house that had begun at Paddan-aram (31:1-18, cf. 35:9). Most importantly, by
returning to Bethel Jacob was now able to fulfill his vow: The Lord had brought
him back to the place where he had bound himself by oath, having kept the
promise that provoked Jacob’s vow in the first place (ref. 28:10-22). Thus Jacob’s
return to Bethel brought his journey full-circle and effectively proved out the
“fleece” he set before Yahweh at Bethel years earlier:
-
At that time Jacob had pledged that, if Yahweh would show Himself
through providential care and oversight to be his covenant God, then Jacob
would indeed serve Him as such (28:20-22).
-
Moreover, Jacob would memorialize God’s covenant faithfulness by
renaming of Luz “Bethel” and by identifying it as the “house of God”
(epitomized in Jacob’s stone altar) (28:22).
-
God had kept his promise to the covenant seed and showed Himself to be
the God of “Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”
These things provide the backdrop for – and so show the significance of – God’s
reiteration of the covenant to Jacob (35:9-12). And as God had kept His promise,
so Jacob responded according to his own pledge (35:13-15; ref. again 28:20-22).
Moreover, God’s reconfirmation of the covenant with Jacob and His elaboration
on its blessings set the stage for the deaths of Rachel and Isaac (35:16-29).
53
With the completion of Jacob’s journey, the reaffirmation of his covenant status,
and the death of Isaac, the text has placed the Abrahamic mantle squarely on
Jacob’s shoulders. At this point, the detailing of his “generations” section” as the
seed of the woman is appropriate, but the text follows the pattern established with
Ishmael and Isaac, providing the generations of the non-covenant son of Isaac
(Esau) before that of the covenant son (36:1-43). In this way, and consistent with
its thematic structure, the narrative continues to chart the progress of the
serpent’s seed as well as the woman’s.
e.
Jacob’s Exile in Egypt
Immediately following Esau’s genealogy the narrative returns to the covenant line
and the introduction of the Joseph narrative. Joseph serves as the primary
character in the balance of Genesis, and the reason is obvious: It’s in relation to
Joseph that the covenant household was to find itself in exile in Egypt. The man
Israel’s personal exile and “redemption” were now to be repeated in the life of the
nation descended from him (ref. again 15:13-14). William Dumbrell observes:
“The long and distinct Joseph narratives close the Book of Genesis. As the theme
in the Jacob cycle was the establishment of the twelve tribes of Israel, the theme
of the Joseph narratives is Israel’s remarkable preservation outside the Promised
Land. As such, the Joseph account functions as a bridge between the patriarchal
narratives and the Book of Exodus, tying the promises to the fathers with the
pending occupation of the land. Joseph is presented as the preserver not only of
Israel’s traditions, but of Israel herself.” (The Faith of Israel)
The story of Joseph is vitally important to the movement of the biblical storyline
and the development of the revelation of redemption, but much of it is outside the
scope of the present study. It is sufficient, therefore, to note the key highlights of
that story.
-
First of all, the Israelite exile in Egypt was grounded in a sequence of
providential occurrences ordered around a series of paired dreams and the
later Middle Eastern famine.
-
The story begins with two corresponding dreams Joseph experienced.
Those dreams prophetically indicated his future supremacy over his
family, including his father and mother (37:1-11), and so provided the
foundation for transforming his brothers’ jealousy into hatred. That hatred
culminated with their selling Joseph into slavery, which resulted in his
being brought into the service of the captain of Pharaoh’s bodyguard.
-
There Joseph distinguished himself, eventually attaining the most exalted
position in Potiphar’s house, only to find himself unjustly cast down into
Pharaoh’s prison. But because the Lord was with him, Joseph once again
rose above his circumstances to become head over all the prisoners.
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-
A pair of dreams had started the trouble that now found Joseph in prison,
another two dreams by his fellow prisoners would lead to his release, and
yet one more pair given to Pharaoh would secure his ascension to the
place of ruler over all Egypt (40:1-41:41). Moreover, Pharaoh’s dreams
predicted the second primary providence leading to Israel’s exile, namely
the coming famine following on the heels of seven years of plenty.
-
During the years of abundance Joseph labored to store grain, so that when
the famine arrived the storehouses of Egypt were full. This circumstance
led to the covenant household’s departure for Egypt – twice to obtain
food, and later to establish residence there with Joseph.
-
While in Egypt the second time, Joseph revealed his identity to his
brothers and sent them home to Canaan to gather their father and
households and return to Egypt. There Joseph – the man to whom God had
given the power of life and death – would provide for the well-being of his
family. After more than two decades Joseph’s prophetic dreams had come
true, and through that fulfillment his typological significance in the history
of redemption was also fully revealed:
The one who had suffered so greatly and “died” because of the sins of
others had become, through his suffering, the appointed agent of their
deliverance and preservation. By his “death” and subsequent exaltation
Joseph was made the possessor of “life” – the one who alone could
vanquish death through the provision of “living bread” to all the nations.
Joseph’s important typological role in the revelation of redemption is made more
evident by a few further observations:
-
The foundation for Israel’s coming deliverance was found in Joseph’s
privileged status (37:2-4). As the first son of Jacob’s beloved wife Rachel,
Joseph was uniquely loved by his father. For that reason, Joseph was
envied and hated by his brethren.
-
Though not explicit in the dreams themselves, it would soon become
evident that the preservation of the covenant people was bound up in
Joseph’s regal power and authority first revealed in his dreams (37:5-10).
The first dream addressed his reign over his brothers, and the second
dream extended his dominion to include his father and mother. Joseph’s
claim to authority over the house of Israel only served to inflame their
hatred of him, leading them to determine to do away with him.
-
Finally, Joseph’s sale into slavery constituted the providence that would
lead to Israel’s deliverance (37:11-36). Note again some of the startling
typological particulars:
55
1)
Joseph’s brothers – the household of Israel – sought his death but
were unwilling to kill him themselves (37:11-27).
2)
Being unwilling to take his life, the brothers delivered Joseph over
to almost certain death at the hands of non-Israelites, and that for
twenty pieces of silver (37:28; cf. vv. 29-32).
3)
Jacob – the father of the one who would reign over the Gentiles
and the house of Israel – mourned the “death” of his son (ref.
37:31-35). But this son would show himself alive at the appointed
time, and from his place of rule and authority he would deliver his
brethren from death, just as he had done with the Gentiles.
When Jacob learned that Joseph was alive and was the ruler over all Egypt, he
couldn’t believe his ears. But when finally his sons convinced him, he determined
to return with them to Egypt. Notably, it is at this point in the narrative (46:1-27)
that the writer returns to the genealogy he introduced at the beginning of chapter
37. Jacob’s genealogy forms the last of Genesis’ ten generations sections, and the
author conspicuously associates it with the Egyptian exile of the covenant
household. This serves at least two functions in the development of the storyline:
-
First, it connects Jacob’s family and their circumstance with God’s
promise to Abraham that his covenant descendents would endure four
hundred years of oppression before inheriting the covenant land.
-
Second, it provides insight into what the future held for the twelve tribes
of Israel. Though Jacob and his sons and their families were going into
Egypt as privileged relatives of Pharaoh’s right-hand man, enslavement
and cruel oppression stood on the horizon.
Like Joseph, the nation of Israel would move quickly from prominence to
abasement. But also like him, at the appointed time God’s favor and power would
cause them to rise from their humiliation to glorious exaltation. According to His
oath to Abraham, they would shed their bonds, taking Egypt’s wealth with them
as they returned once again to the land of their fathers (cf. 47:27-31, 50:24-26).
The book of Genesis draws near to its close with Jacob’s blessing upon his twelve
sons. In this way the text leaves no doubt that a major development has occurred:
Previously only one individual in each patriarchal generation enjoyed covenant
status, but Jacob’s blessing indicates that it was now being transferred to all of his
sons, and ultimately beyond them to the twelve tribes descended from them. The
covenant son “Israel” was poised to become the covenant nation of Israel. At the
same time, Jacob’s extended blessing upon Joseph – together with his blessing of
Joseph’s two sons – indicated that Joseph was to be distinguished among his
brothers by being reckoned twice in the covenant household: once in Ephraim and
once in Manasseh (ref. 48:1-22, 49:22-26).
56
As the prelude to his passing the covenant “baton” by means of blessing, Jacob
announced to his sons his impending death and charged them to return his body to
Canaan and bury him there in the cave in the field of Machpelah where his father
and grandfather were buried (48:28-32).
-
By maintaining his connection with the other patriarchs, Jacob (and the
writer) was affirming his confidence that the exile of the covenant
household in Egypt didn’t mean the end of the promise.
-
Beyond that, Jacob’s return to Canaan (in death) would prefigure – and
thereby reinforce – God’s promise to Abraham regarding the future of his
covenant seed. Though Jacob had left the land granted in the covenant, he
would be laid to rest in it (cf. 49:33-50:14 with 46:1-4). Thus Israel’s
return to Canaan out of his Egyptian exile foreshadowed that of the nation
descended from him. As God fulfilled His word to Jacob, so He would do
also with his descendents at the appointed time.
With their father dead and buried, Joseph’s brothers became concerned that he
would now turn against them and punish them for all they had done to him. And
so they contrived a story that Jacob had instructed them before his death to
petition Joseph’s forgiveness in his name (50:15-17). Surely Joseph would forgive
them if he believed that was the dying request of his beloved father. But no such
plea was necessary; Joseph had already forgiven them, as his response shows.
Importantly, this encounter brings the Joseph story to its apex. For through it the
narrator makes explicit the meaning of everything leading up to it.
The account of Joseph began with two prophetic dreams, and the content of those
dreams had now been realized in Joseph’s exaltation to the place of authority over
the covenant household (ref. again 37:5-10). The dreams had come true, and
God’s purpose in that fulfillment is revealed by Joseph’s words to his brothers.
Without denying or in any way minimizing their evil intention and deeds, Joseph
declared that God had brought him to Egypt and exalted him through unjust
suffering in order that he should be the savior of the world. What his brothers had
meant for evil, God meant for good; His intention had been to “preserve many
people alive” – not just the covenant household, but all the nations (50:19-21).
Genesis ends with Joseph’s death (50:22-26). Like his father, Joseph charged his
brothers to return his remains to Canaan. But, along with the rest of his father’s
household, he was to remain in Egyptian exile – unburied – until the time
appointed by God and promised to Abraham. Joseph would participate in Israel’s
exodus, and only then would he enter the rest of Canaan. Thus Joseph died in
faith, trusting and holding fast to God’s promise in spite of the time and distance –
indeed, the fact of death itself – that now separated him from it (cf. Hebrews
11:22). The God who had proven faithful through four generations would not fail
to keep His promise; He would surely restore His people to Himself in His
sanctuary land. On that note of anticipation the patriarchal epoch came to a close.
57
C.
The Theocracy
Toward His declared goal of recovering His creation from the curse, God had called out a man
and pledged to him a kingdom. Abraham would become a great nation and that nation would
inhabit the land of Canaan. Canaan was to be a kingdom land – not merely the inhabitation of
Abraham’s covenant descendents, but the dwelling place of the great King Himself. It was to be
the place where God would again dwell in the midst of His people and commune with them;
Canaan was to be an expression of the restoration of sacred space.
1.
Background of the Exodus
God promised Abraham that He would make him great and that his own personal
greatness would extend to his descendents. Genesis chronicles Abraham’s rise to
greatness under the covenant and the transference of his distinction to his son and
grandson. The man Israel assumed his grandfather’s eminence, but it eluded his
immediate descendents. Far from perpetuating their father’s greatness, Jacob’s sons went
into exile in Egypt and there the covenant family was soon plunged into oppression,
degradation, and ignominy. examine
a.
But this circumstance is exactly what God had revealed to Abraham. He would
indeed make Abraham’s descendents into a great nation and establish them as a
covenant kingdom in the land of Canaan. But this would come about in
connection with four hundred years of enslavement outside the promised land.
God would fulfill His covenant promises in the context of Egyptian bondage. This
phenomenon highlights two principles that are foundational and vitally important
to the Old Testament’s gospel revelation:
1)
The first is the unilateral nature of the covenant promises and their
fulfillment. As nothing in Abraham had provoked God’s promises to him,
so the circumstance experienced by his descendents in Egypt left them in
no position whatsoever to secure or even influence their own well-being.
Their subjugation and oppression at the hand of the mighty Egyptian
empire rendered them powerless and without any personal remedy or
hope. If the covenant oath to Abraham were to be fulfilled, it would be
solely through God’s supernatural power and provision.
2)
God had unilaterally pledged to make Israel a great nation, and the
fulfillment of that promise was to be equally one-sided. Israel would attain
to its covenant greatness in a miraculous way – in the context of cruel
slavery. Everything in the Egyptian experience was structured and
positioned to destroy the covenant seed, and yet their progress toward
fulfillment of the covenant promises continued unhindered. The more the
Egyptians oppressed and afflicted them, the more they thrived and
triumphed. As they increased in number and flourished they also gained
psychological advantage. In the midst of their enslavement Israel’s
subjugators became increasingly terrified of them (Exodus 1:8-12).
58
b.
The Egyptians clearly discerned what was happening with the Hebrews and it
filled them with dread. For their part, the sons of Israel were much more aware of
their own miraculous preservation and increase, but their hardship led them to
forsake their God. The Exodus account reveals little about Israel’s religious
consciousness and conviction during those centuries, but it does provide a
startling portrait when taken together with other Old Testament contexts.
Exodus records that the people groaned and cried out in the agony of their
affliction, but it never states that they called out to God (cf. 2:23). Ezekiel
provides important perspective for the Exodus content by noting that the children
of Israel worshipped the gods of Egypt during their sojourn in that land.
Interestingly, God also stated through his prophet that He had chosen Israel and
revealed Himself to the people while they were in Egypt (20:3-8).
The implication is that they had departed from God during the time of their
enslavement – covenantally as well as psychologically. Abraham’s offspring had
forgotten their God and become indistinguishable from their Egyptian masters in
their religious convictions and practice. Thus God’s fulfillment of His promise to
Abraham required that He renew His relationship with Israel by again taking them
as covenant sons (“choosing” them) and then revealing Himself to them as He had
done with the patriarchs centuries earlier.
Thus the Ezekiel text pointedly emphasizes the divine initiative in Israel’s
deliverance (20:9-10), and this is reinforced by the book of Exodus. For
repeatedly in that narrative God insists that He had taken note of Israel’s cries and
remembered His covenant with the patriarchs though they, having forsaken Him,
were not directing their outcry to Him (cf. 2:23-25, 3:6-10, 16-17, 6:5, etc.).
And so both the external and internal aspects of Israel’s existence in Egypt highlight the
sovereign and unilateral nature of the covenant and its fulfillment. On the one hand, the
Egyptians sought to psychologically and physically decimate Abraham’s descendents; on
the other, the people’s own unbelief and apostasy jeopardized the covenant.
2.
The Significance of the Exodus
Within Old Testament revelation the Egyptian Exodus holds a place of great prominence.
The reason is that it was foundational to Israel’s national existence and provided a key
component of the nation’s identity and collective psyche. The Exodus was fundamental
to Israel’s sense of itself, its relation to God, and its purpose in the world.
And in that Israel itself was ordained by God to play a crucial role in the developing
revelation of redemption and its ultimate accomplishment in Jesus Christ, it follows that
Israel’s deliverance from Egyptian bondage should have salvation-historical as well as
historical significance. In other words, it should be important to the final outcome that
Israel and its historical existence portrayed and prepared for as much as to Israel’s
national life as God’s Old Covenant people. This is exactly what the Scripture reveals.
59
a.
In terms of its historical significance, the Exodus set the stage for God’s
fulfillment of the Abrahamic Covenant as it regarded his physical offspring. If the
descendents of the patriarchs were to inherit the land of Canaan and possess it as a
great nation they would first have to be delivered from Egypt. Thus the Exodus
was the foundation for the establishment of the covenant kingdom promised to
Abraham (Exodus 2:24-3:17). This, in turn, is the reason the biblical narrative
presents Sinai as the focal point of the Exodus (cf. 3:11-12 with 19:1-6), and so
also of Israel’s national existence as Abraham’s covenant seed. For, at Sinai Israel
was formally constituted a covenant nation and joined to Yahweh as His “son.”
The Sinai covenant attested and administered Israel’s identity as Abraham’s seed.
b.
The Abrahamic Covenant had its first point of reference in the nation of Israel and
its inheritance of the land of Canaan. But both Israel’s failure under the covenant
and the clear testimony of the Scripture indicate that God intended a larger,
spiritual purpose for it. The fulfillment of the covenant promises in relation to
national Israel served to further reveal and prepare for the ultimate fulfillment
that would come in the true “Israel” Jesus Christ. This promise/fulfillment
relationship means that the historical relevance of the Exodus provides important
insight into its salvation-historical significance. And what the Old Testament
reveals is that Israel’s deliverance from Egypt – toward fulfillment of God’s
covenant with Abraham – was directed toward the recovery of sacred space.
The core consequence of the Fall was estrangement between God and His imagebearer, and this was attested by man’s expulsion from God’s garden-sanctuary.
Given that man was created to be God’s son, the remediation of the curse
necessarily involves divine-human reconciliation: For God to fulfill His oath in
Eden He would have to restore mankind to Himself; He would have to recover
sacred space. This is precisely what Canaan represented as the goal of Israel’s
deliverance and constitution as a nation. The Abrahamic Covenant carried
forward God’s Edenic oath, and therefore held out the promise of a kingdom land
where God and men would dwell together in covenant fellowship.
This truth is made explicit by the Song of Moses recorded in Exodus 15. It is a
poem that rehearses Israel’s redemption from Egypt and thereby acted as a song
of celebration and commemoration for the fledgling nation. But more importantly,
it served to explain to Israel and her future generations the meaning of the
Exodus. The song is partitioned into two main sections: The first celebrates
Yahweh’s absolute triumph over the powers of Egypt (vv. 1-12), while the second
reveals God’s goal in delivering His people.
In redeeming Israel, the Lord plundered Egypt’s wealth and devastated her power.
In this way He showed Himself to be the great God, greater than the gods of
Egypt, even the pharaoh himself. But God’s intention was other than merely
displaying His power. He had delivered Israel, not as El Shaddai (“God
Almighty”) but as Yahweh, the covenant God and Father of His elect son in order
that He should take His son to Himself (cf. Exodus 3:13-14, 4:21-22, 6:2-8).
60
The Song of Moses reveals that God’s goal in redeeming His son from his
enslavement was covenant fellowship:
1)
Yahweh stretched forth His right hand to destroy the oppressors of His
people and thereby liberate them (v. 12). But this liberation was an act of
redemption: God didn’t merely free His son; He purchased him from his
captivity at the price of Egypt’s first-born and the blood of the Passover.
2)
Moreover, the Lord didn’t do so out of necessity or compulsion, but out of
lovingkindness (v. 13a). This Hebrew noun (hesed) takes on crucial
significance in relation to the concept of covenant. It speaks of a
committed love that expresses itself in covenant (relational) fidelity. In
this particular context it is the love of Yahweh, the covenant Father, for
His covenant son (cf. Hosea 11:1). Later the concept of hesed would be
extended to encompass the metaphor of love between a husband and wife;
Yahweh would remain the ever-faithful covenant husband while Israel
became the adulterous wife (cf. Isaiah 50:1, 54:1-8; Jeremiah 2:1-3;
Ezekiel 16:1-63; Hosea 1:1-2:20; cf. also Jeremiah 31:31-32).
While still in Egypt God had chosen Israel as His elect son (ref. again
Exodus 4:22 and Ezekiel 20:5-6), so that His act of deliverance in
“lovingkindness” only testified to His commitment to that relationship.
William Dumbrell notes: “The point has been made that the word hesed is
not applicable to the establishment of a relationship, but reflects rather
fidelity and loyalty to an existing relationship. The aim of the hesed
exhibited is to preserve the tenor of the relationship which already exists.”
(Covenant and Creation)
3)
Yahweh brought His son out of Egypt as an expression of relational
commitment, and He did so for the purpose of leading him as a caring
shepherd to His pasture, His own “holy habitation” (v. 13b). No enemy
would be able to prevent Israel’s inheriting the land promised to the
patriarchs (vv. 14-16) – not so much because God is truthful, but because
He is faithful. That is to say, Yahweh would surely lead Israel into Canaan
because Israel was His covenant son and He desired that His son should be
with Him in His own habitation. God wasn’t leading Israel to a place as
much as to Himself (v.17).
Canaan spoke of the recovery of sacred space and, with it, the restoration of the
kingdom of God (v. 18). God had created Adam as His image-son to be His viceregent, ruling over the works of His hands in His name and for His sake. Man was
created to exercise his Father’s dominion in the context of intimate communion.
Thus Israel’s possession of the covenant land typified man’s return to Eden’s
intimacy and regal glory. It spoke of man’s restoration to God’s sanctuary throne.
By an act of divine redemption motivated by sovereign love, Yahweh’s son would
again dwell in the presence of his Creator-Lord in His holy sanctuary.
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3.
Preparation for Sinai – The Testing of Israel’s Faith
From their miraculous triumph at the Red Sea, the sons of Israel set out toward Mount
Sinai and their appointed encounter with their Redeemer-God. Israel would not enter
Yahweh’s rest in Canaan until it had been brought into formal relationship with Him
through the covenant at Sinai. God’s elect “son” must be formally joined to Him in
covenant union, but before Israel reached Sinai it was confronted with five tests of faith,
all of which openly established the son’s unbelief and unworthiness (15:25-18:27). As He
had demonstrated while Israel was still in Egypt, the Lord’s continuing faithfulness to His
promises to Abraham was grounded solely in His own integrity and commitment.
The first three tests implicated Israel’s faith in God’s provision. Yahweh had delivered
His covenant son from Egypt; would He now provide for his physical needs? To set the
context for these tests the Lord led Israel from the Red Sea into the wilderness of Shur.
a.
Only three days removed from God’s spectacular deliverance at the Red Sea, the
Israelites’ jubilation and exultant praise had already turned to disbelief and
grumbling as they thirsted and arrived at the bitter waters of Marah (15:22-27).
By juxtaposing this account with the Song of Moses the narrator set the people’s
disingenuous “faith” in sharp relief. When God acted on their behalf Israel
rejoiced and sang His praises, but let a few days pass and they had again slipped
into what would prove to be their normative pattern of doubt and accusation.
Arriving at Marah and taking note that the waters there were not potable, the
Israelites complained to Moses that they were dying of thirst. God responded with
a miraculous purification of the water, which action was to serve as a foundational
statute for Israel: Israel’s obligation of obedience to God’s revealed will (here
expressed in His “healing” of the waters) was faith – that is, compliant trust in His
word. Such obedience would result in their deliverance from all the diseases
Yahweh had inflicted upon the unbelieving and rebellious Egyptians. The healing
of the diseased waters meant deliverance from disease for Israel, but only if it
would live a life of obedient trust. In tangible affirmation of His promise and His
power to fulfill it, the Lord led Israel from Marah to the oasis at Elim.
b.
The second test occurred in the wilderness of Sin, and, in parallel with its
predecessor, involved Israel’s hunger (16:1-36). Here the people’s unbelief and
rebellion were escalated as they lamented their departure from Egypt. Not only
did they disbelieve God for their provision – after just being charged by Moses at
Marah and being led to Elim – their grumbling expressed resentment regarding
the loss of what they had enjoyed in Egypt as they served its gods (16:3).
Once again God responded with supernatural provision: He supplied manna as
“bread from heaven” and meat in the form of quail that flew in and covered the
camp (16:4-36). The manna arrived in the morning and the quail in the evening,
thereby showing Israel that Yahweh was their provider in full. He met their needs
in both bread and meat, and did so at the start and end of their day.
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The narrative gives no indication that God’s provision of meat continued (ref.
16:14-36). The text’s emphasis on the manna – in contrast to only three verses
concerning the quail – suggests that this was a unique event. One thing is certain:
The provision of quail served a prophetic role by anticipating a similar future
occurrence by which God would judge His people for their dissatisfaction with
the heavenly bread (cf. 16:4-5 with Numbers 11:1ff).
The focal point of the second test was the introduction of manna as the heavenly
bread by which God’s children were to be nourished throughout all the days of
their journey. The manna was miraculous, not only in the manner of its
appearing, but also in its form. It was an inhuman food, previously unknown in
the world of men. Having never seen anything like it, the people responded to it
with the question, “What is it?” This expression became the name by which it was
called – manna, after the Hebrew, “man hu.”
This miraculous food from heaven was different from any food Israel had ever
known. Its unique form testified to its unique source: It was provided directly and
supernaturally by God Himself. The people could neither cultivate it nor preserve
it. Each day Yahweh gave them their “daily bread,” and they were to live day-today upon His provision. Just like Abraham before them, Israel was to know that
its God is Jehovah-Jireh – the covenant Father who shows hesed to His children.
Most importantly, the provision of manna served as the occasion for the
introduction of the Sabbath principle which would be ratified in only a few days
at Sinai. God had chosen Israel to be His unique son, taken from among all the
peoples of the earth. For that reason Israel was a consecrated people: a people
devoted to the Lord their God, and the Sabbath would epitomize and formalize
this principle as a binding ordinance and the very sign of the Sinai Covenant.
The significance of the manna to Israel’s redemption and life prior to her rest in
Canaan is shown by God’s demand that it be memorialized. At this point the
narrative jumps forward and inserts a brief anachronistic parenthesis (16:32-36).
Moses directed Aaron to place a jar of manna before the Testimony of Yahweh
(the tables of the Law) as an everlasting memorial for the sons of Israel. It was to
serve as a tangible reminder to Israel’s generations that their Father had sustained
them through all their wanderings by means of a supernatural and other-worldly
bread. He had carried them into their rest by nourishing them on His own
heavenly bread, a fact that would find its destiny in the true Bread of Heaven (cf.
John 6:22-59). Given the historical and salvation-historical significance of the
manna, it is easy to see why this parenthetic was inserted into the narrative flow.
c.
Israel’s third test implicating Yahweh’s provision is recorded in 17:1-7. Like the
first one, it involved Israel’s lack of water. But here the nation’s doubt regarding
God – which was rebuked and shown to be unfounded at Marah – is heightened.
Israel’s grumbling and resentment reached such a level of intensity that Moses
feared the people might actually stone him.
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The text contrasts Israel’s escalated unbelief and rebellion with an equally
escalated response. At Marah God had provided water to Israel by Moses’ act of
throwing a tree into bitter water; now Yahweh would bring water out of a rock.
And not simply any rock, but a rock upon which He Himself stood (17:6). The text
doesn’t specify the form in which Yahweh appeared, but it leaves no doubt that
His presence was visible to all Israel, as represented in its elders. This event has
huge salvation-historical significance as it contributes to God’s developing
revelation of redemption: “God who is the Shepherd of his people not only leads
them through the wilderness; he stands in their place that justice might be done.
The penalty is discharged: Moses strikes the Rock. The Lord redeems by bearing
the judgment. From the smitten Rock there flows the water of life into the deadly
wilderness. When Paul says the Rock was Christ, he perceives the symbolism of
the passage. Christ is present both in person [in the theophanic Angel] and in
symbol.” (Edmund Clowney, Preaching Christ in All of Scripture)
d.
The Lord had promised to give Canaan to Israel and this meant granting them
victory over the nations residing in that land. The fourth test directly implicated
that promise and Yahweh’s integrity regarding it, for it involved Israel’s first
military conflict with an enemy nation (17:8-16). Like every other episode in
Israel’s life, this circumstance served to bind together Israel’s past, present, and
future. The warfare with Amalek reaffirmed Israel’s unique identity as Yahweh’s
covenant son, His ongoing faithfulness to that son, and the promise of future
conflict with and victory over the nations of Canaan.
Amalek (here referring to the Amalekite people) was a descendent of Esau. That
Israel’s first military triumph on its way to Canaan should be with Amalek is
profoundly significant in the development of the biblical storyline. For Jacob had
also triumphed over Esau, not because he was the first-born or enjoyed any other
kind of preeminence, but because of Yahweh’s sovereign choice and provision.
Jacob’s triumph began with the gaining of the birthright, advanced to the
reception of the patriarchal blessing, and culminated with Esau’s “submission” to
Jacob in their reconciliation at Peniel. The man Israel (Jacob), filled with dread,
had fled from Esau many years earlier; now Israel – the covenant son who had
prevailed with God – returned to encounter Esau, this time to leave in triumph.
So it was that Jacob’s previous triumph over Esau was to be repeated on the way
to Sinai. The primal enmity between the seed of the woman and the seed of the
serpent was again manifesting itself on the stage of salvation history. Amalek (as
representing Esau and the seed of the serpent) stood between Israel (representing
the covenant son Jacob and the seed of the woman) and the realization of
Yahweh’s goal for His people, namely His covenant union with them at Sinai and
their entrance into His presence in His sanctuary land. The Amalekites stood
poised to destroy Abraham’s covenant offspring, and in that way make void
God’s promise to him. More broadly, Amalek’s opposition to Israel threatened the
primal promise of final victory in the woman’s seed – the singular Seed that was
to come through Abraham.
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The circumstance of the battle is intriguing and even perplexing. Moses instructed
Joshua to assemble a fighting force to engage the Amalekites; he would then
ascend the hill overlooking the battlefield and there extend the staff of God. As
the battle ensued, Israel prevailed as long as Moses held his arm up, but when his
arm dropped the tables turned. Seeing this and noting Moses’ weariness, Aaron
and Hur set a stone under him to sit on, and then supported his arms until Israel
had won the battle. Keil and Delitzsch are helpful in unpacking this symbolism:
“As the heathen world was now commencing its conflict with the people of God in
the persons of the Amalekites, and the prototype of the heathen world, with its
hostility to God, was opposing the nation of the Lord that had been redeemed
from the bondage of Egypt and was on its way to Canaan, to contest its entrance
into the promised inheritance; so the battle which Israel fought with this foe
possessed a typical significance in relation to all the future history of Israel. It
could not conquer by the sword alone, but could only gain the victory by the
power of God, coming down from on high, and obtained through prayer and those
means of grace with which it had been entrusted.” (Old Testament Commentary)
e.
The final test for Israel leading up to the covenant at Sinai involved Yahweh’s
provision, not of food, drink, or victory in battle, but of judicial resource to
oversee and maintain Israel’s civil well-being. In this passage God’s redeemed
people were faced with a looming crisis – a predicament that, in its own way,
powerfully spotlighted Israel’s fundamental problem of estrangement:
Estrangement caused the sons of Israel to doubt and grumble against God, and
estrangement caused them to dispute with and contend against each other. In both
instances Moses was called upon to act as mediator.
Moses was God’s appointed judge, but the task of overseeing the nation was
pressing him to the breaking point. At risk were the integrity, stability, and even
the continuance of the nation; if Moses should prove unable to successfully
mediate Israel’s internal conflicts and disputes, the nation would likely collapse
into chaos. The people moving toward becoming a covenantally unified and holy
nation might not even make it to Sinai. Israel could well disintegrate before the
unifying covenant was even established. The threat to the promise in this test was
internal rather than external opposition. Israel was threatening to destroy itself.
The solution to the problem was provided by Jethro, the priest of Midian and
Moses’ father-in-law. Moses would continue to stand as mediator between God
and Israel, but his mediation among the people would be administered by leaders
appointed by him. They would hear and resolve all minor disputes, but anything
beyond their capacity would be brought to Moses for his adjudication.
In these five episodes Israel’s faith was tested and found wanting. While in Egypt
Yahweh had chosen Israel to be His devoted “son,” and already the clear indication was
that it would not succeed in fulfilling its calling. It seemed evident that Israel could not be
Israel; what, then, was to become of the promise to Abraham? Would God’s word fail?
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4.
The Mosaic Covenant
Only a few months out of Egypt, God’s “son” had already been subjected to several tests
of faith that openly demonstrated Israel’s unbelief and rebellion against Him. They
lamented their thirst and hunger and grumbled against their Redeemer, crying out for the
meat pots of Egypt. And when Yahweh condescended to be merciful to them – providing
for their need in a supernatural way even while they grumbled against Him, they lapsed
again into unbelief at the very next opportunity. Yahweh delivered them in battle,
symbolically pouring forth His power through the conduit of Moses’ upraised arms, and
yet they disputed among themselves, threatening to do what the Amalekites had been
unable to do, namely destroy the covenant people, and thereby also the covenant promise.
a.
Israel’s Arrival at Sinai (19:1-25)
Yahweh had tested His chosen son Israel and proven his unfaithfulness while, at
the same time, demonstrating His own unfailing commitment to His word of
promise. Just as He had sworn to the patriarchs and reiterated to Moses, Yahweh
had brought Abraham’s seed to the foot of His holy mountain to be joined to Him
in covenant union. Jacob’s descendents were to be formally constituted as God’s
covenant people and, toward that end, He issued two preliminary charges to them.
Sinai and its covenant were the goal of all that had transpired thus far, and it was
necessary that Israel be prepared to meet its Redeemer-God.
1)
God’s first charge addressed the purpose for the covenant in that it showed
Israel its new identity under the covenant (19:1-6). The Sinai covenant
would formally establish Israel as God’s uniquely elect son: His “unique
possession” as a “kingdom of priests and a holy nation.”
These parallel ideas are mutually referential and mutually interpreting.
Together they indicate that Israel’s identity as Yahweh’s “son” implied its
foundational obligation of singular devotion: Israel was to be wholly
consecrated to its covenant Lord and Father, evidenced by a life of
authentic and perpetual worship.
Through its faithful devotion to Yahweh, the nation of Israel would fulfill
its ordained role as “image-son,” reflecting in itself and in its practice the
glory of its divine Father. In this way Israel would also fulfill the
Abrahamic mandate of mediating God’s blessing to all the earth’s
families. By obeying His covenant, Abraham’s seed would convey the
knowledge of their covenant God to all those observing them.
“The entire nation was to live in the midst of God’s presence, and were all
to become like priests standing in the presence of God in his temple and
reflecting his glorious light, being intermediaries for the nations living in
darkness and apart from God.”
(G. K. Beale, The Temple and the Church’s Mission)
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This first charge is also noteworthy in that it reveals the nature of the
covenant as Israel’s law (the Law of Moses). A common misconception is
that the Law was essentially a collection of individual and impersonal
rules and commandments that the sons of Israel were to comply with much
as a citizen is obligated to obey the laws of his community. This
perspective, in turn, leads to an erroneous understanding of the biblical
instruction regarding obedience to the Law of Moses and the way it
implicated an individual’s (and the nation’s) righteousness before God.
The Mosaic Law was the covenant that bound Israel to God. Like all
covenants, it defined the covenanting parties to each other and established
the nature and bounds of their mutual relationship. The Law of Moses
defined, established, and administered the father-son relationship that was
to exist between Yahweh and Abraham’s descendents. This being the case,
righteousness for Israel amounted to relational faithfulness as defined by
the covenant, not compliance with a list of rules. This is precisely the
reason that God treated Israel’s later disobedience under the covenant as a
son’s waywardness (Hosea 11:1ff) and a wife’s adultery (Ezekiel 16, 23).
The first thing God did when Israel arrived at Sinai was to inform them of
who they would be under the forthcoming covenant. In that way they
would understand what obedience to the covenant entailed. Moses relayed
God’s charge to the sons of Israel and they immediately responded by
committing themselves to faithfully adhere to all God required of them.
With that, Moses returned to notify God of Israel’s intention (19:7-8).
2)
The fledgling nation had committed itself in advance to Yahweh’s design,
and on that basis He set the terms for their encounter with Him on the holy
mountain (19:9-25). Indicative of their appointed status as a holy people,
the sons of Israel were to consecrate themselves for three days by washing
their clothing and abstaining from sexual contact. They were to appear
before Yahweh as a clean and undefiled people.
And yet, even in their ritual purity, the Israelites were to keep their
distance from God. No person or animal was to touch even the base of
Mount Sinai while Yahweh was present upon it. Any creature that violated
this restriction would be immediately put to death. In profound irony,
Yahweh’s beloved “son” – whom He had taken to Himself – was
forbidden from entering into His presence. The seriousness of God’s
demand is seen in the fact that He heralded His appearance on the
mountain with another warning to Moses to keep Israel back from it.
Taken together, these two charges highlight the important truth that Israel’s
presence at Mount Sinai spoke to the core biblical theme of the recovery of sacred
space. Sinai was the “mountain of God” – the place where Yahweh’s son would
meet with and worship his Creator-Father (cf. again 3:1-6, 10-12, 15:17).
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And yet, in parallel with the patriarchal altars in Canaan, this encounter merely
portrayed the restoration of what had been lost in Eden. Like their covenant
fathers, Israel’s worship of God was to be a matter of mediated distance. The true
recovery of sacred space – intimated in the protoevangelium and promised in the
Abrahamic Covenant – awaited a future fulfillment, for it presupposed the end of
estrangement between God and men. The intimacy of Eden would not be
recovered until man was restored as image-son.
b.
The Making of the Covenant (20:1-23:33)
Having instructed Israel to keep its distance, the Lord descended onto Mount
Sinai in the presence of Moses. But He did not speak to the people until He had
sent Moses down to them to warn them again about the dire consequence of
“breaking through” to Him. When Moses had done so, the Lord began to address
His chosen “son.” While the people stood trembling at the foot of the mountain,
Yahweh’s voice thundered from its summit as He began to set forth His covenant,
first in the Ten Words (20:1-17), then in a series of general ordinances (20:2223:19), and finally in summary promises and sanctions (23:20-33).
1)
Consistent with covenant structures in general and near-eastern suzerain
treaties in particular, Yahweh introduced His covenant with a preamble
identifying the parties to the covenant. And fundamental to that preamble
was Yahweh’s self-identification as Israel’s Redeemer. Israel wasn’t
simply being joined to the Creator-God; throughout its generations Israel
was to know Yahweh as the God who had delivered them from their cruel
bondage in accordance with His promise to Abraham.
Yahweh identified Himself as Israel’s Redeemer-Father (19:4; cf. 4:22-23;
Hosea 11:1-4), and the implication was that Israel’s identity under the
covenant was that of redeemed son. Being the seed of Abraham and elect
son of God, Israel was to live as a royal, priestly, and consecrated nation.
2)
God’s self-identification laid the foundation for His demands upon His
covenant people. As Israel’s redeemer, Yahweh had exclusive claim on
His redeemed “son.” He had purchased Abraham’s descendents and
gathered them to Himself, and Israel was to respond in kind by devoting
itself wholly to Him. This obligation – summarized in the “Ten Words” –
was the rightful response of a redeemed son to a sovereignly gracious
Redeemer-Father. Thus William Dumbrell notes:
“The Ten Commandments spell out the boundaries of the relationship
established by grace and heard by all Israel. In keeping with this
understanding, we note that the later, general word for ‘law’ (torah)
carries the sense of instruction or guidance. In these terms the Ten
Commandments offer a mirror image of how Israel’s national life in the
land should look, reflecting the relationship of grace.”
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Looking further to the ultimate salvation-historical significance of Sinai
and Israel’s life in covenant with God, Dumbrell makes this important
observation: “The Ten Words objectified on Sinai seem merely to have
codified the divine will for humankind.” (The Faith of Israel)
As the Sinai covenant (the Law of Moses) showed Israel what it meant to
be Israel – the “image-son” who reflects and expresses to the creation the
likeness of his Father-God, so it ultimately revealed what it is for man to
be truly man. This is the primary sense in which the Law prophesied of
Christ, who is both the Last Adam and the “covenant of the people” (cf.
Matthew 11:13; Luke 24:25-27, 44-45; also Isaiah 42:1-6 and 49:1-8).
The Sinai Covenant – epitomized in the Decalogue – expressed to Israel
the meaning of its identity as God’s image-son and how the nation was to
live out that identity. But Israel’s national status as formalized at Sinai
was grounded in its historical identity as the seed of Abraham. Yahweh’s
election of Israel and His taking them to Himself in covenant union was
His honoring His prior promise to Abraham to be his God and the God of
his descendents (ref. Genesis 17:7-8). In turn, God’s promise to Abraham
was grounded in His archetypal oath in Eden to bring forth a descendent
from Eve in whom the cosmic calamity of man’s fall would be rectified.
The Sinai Covenant had its origin in the Protoevangelium, and this fact
explains the centrality of the sabbath principle in the covenant.
-
The original creation centered in Eden had been defined by
“shabbat.” Having finished His work of creating, ordering, and
filling, God rested and inaugurated the perpetual seventh day to
mark His creation – under the dominion of His image-son – as a
sabbath reality (Genesis 2:1-3).
-
The creation account emphasizes the sabbatical nature of sacred
space, and Israel’s future residence in Canaan represented its
presence in Yahweh’s sanctuary. What God was promising Israel
amounted to a symbolic restoration of sacred space, and for this
reason Israel’s life in Canaan was to be a sabbatical life with the
Sabbath serving as the very sign of the covenant (ref. 31:12-18).
The centrality of the Sabbath to Israel’s existence in Canaan is evident
first in God’s introduction of the sabbath concept prior to their arrival at
Sinai (ref. again 16:22-30). Once there, the Lord exalted the weekly
Sabbath by incorporating it within the Ten Words. And beyond that, God
would soon reveal that the entirety of Israel’s life in relationship with Him
was to be ordered around the principle of “shabbat” as He appointed
sabbath observances connected to the full scope of Israel’s theocratic and
religious existence in His sanctuary land (cf. Leviticus 23:1-38, 25:1-8).
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3)
Yahweh spoke the words of the Decalogue in the hearing of all Israel, but
His presence overwhelmed and terrified them and they cried out to Moses
to act as the mediator between them and God (20:18-21). The brevity of
this passage leads many to miss its immense significance, but Moses
would later remind the sons of Israel of their petition and the Lord’s
response to it (Deuteronomy 18:15-19). Their cry for a mediator met with
divine approval: Israel’s relationship with God was properly to be a
matter of appointed mediation, and that dynamic would one day find its
own fulfillment in another prophet-mediator like Moses who would stand
before the God of the covenant on behalf of His covenant children.
Though set apart to Him as His uniquely chosen son, Israel’s relationship
with Yahweh was to be characterized by mediated distance. This is clear
from Moses’ appointment, and is further highlighted by God’s instruction
regarding the use of altars in His worship (20:22-26). Just as with the
patriarchs, Israel’s access to God would be through the mediating
instruments of sacraments and symbols. Most importantly, the sons of
Israel could construct their own altars (for the present time), but they could
not contribute to their material design. As would soon become clear with
the tabernacle, Yahweh alone determined the basis and means of men’s
approach to Him, and any human contribution to that endeavor or
determination regarding it constituted an act of blasphemous arrogance.
4)
The foundation of the covenant was the Ten Words, and upon that
foundation the Lord provided a series of general ordinances pertaining to
Israel’s corporate existence (21:1-23:19). The collective nation was the
covenant “son of God,” but the nation was comprised of countless
individuals. If Israel were to fulfill its corporate role, its individual
members would have to live in a certain way in relation to one another.
It is notable that, whereas God spoke the words of the Decalogue in the
hearing of the people, these subsequent ordinances were given to Moses to
communicate to them. According to their petition, God would now speak
His words to Moses and he would deliver them to Israel (ref. again 20:19).
5)
Finally, Yahweh rounded out the covenant with a series of personal
promises and sanctions. The covenant established responsibilities for both
parties, and these were summarized in its concluding section (23:20-33).
For His part, God would fulfill His oath to bring Israel safely through the
wilderness and into the sanctuary land (v. 20). There, in His presence, they
would realize the fullness of “Edenic” blessings in dominion, fruitfulness,
prosperity and well-being, just as the Lord had promised to Abraham
centuries earlier (note esp. 23:31). But Israel had its own responsibility
under the covenant: Yahweh would be a protective and providing Father if
Israel would be a devoted son (vv. 21-22, 24-25, 32-33).
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c.
The Ratification of the Covenant (24:1-8)
After receiving the terms of the covenant, Moses descended Mount Sinai with
Yahweh’s instruction to return to Him, this time with Aaron and his sons and
seventy of Israel’s elders. Implied in this directive was that Moses would first
relay the words of covenant to Israel and they, in turn, would bind themselves to
them. Then, being joined to God in covenant union, they could come before Him
as sons. Thus, before returning with the others as directed, Moses recounted to all
the people the Lord’s words and ordinances and, as they had done previously,
they solemnly swore to uphold all that Yahweh had spoken (vv. 1-3).
Consistent with God’s previous covenants, this one was to be formally ratified in
a sacred ritual, and toward that end Moses meticulously recorded all the words of
the covenant in a book. When he was finished he constructed an altar at the foot
of Sinai, setting it upon twelve pillars symbolizing the twelve tribes of Israel. He
then sent young men to prepare sacrificial animals for offering upon it. What is
crucial to observe is that, along with burnt offerings, they sacrificed peace
offerings (24:5). Those offerings bore witness to the fact that Israel, the new son
of the covenant, was at that time in perfect compliance with it. Yahweh had
specified Israel’s identity as His son and the responsibility it entailed, and the
nation had expressly stated its commitment to fully live out its covenant identity.
Father and son were at peace with one another.
As part of the ritual of ratification, Moses took the blood of the sacrifices and
sprinkled half of it on the altar. Then he called together the sons of Israel and once
again recounted to them the terms of the covenant, this time by reading from the
book he had just completed. And just as they had done twice before, the people
reiterated their commitment to exact obedience (vv. 6-7). With that commitment
in place, Moses bound Israel to the covenant and their own oath by sprinkling
them and the book of the covenant with blood – the blood of the covenant.
d.
Celebration of the Covenant (24:9-11)
The ratification of the covenant heralded its inauguration; the son’s intimacy with
his Father was now formally established and, as yet, free of all corruption and
compromise. Israel had offered peace offerings in testimony of this truth, and was
now in a position to honor God’s command to Moses. Israel, the blameless son,
was able to enter into its Father’s presence in His holy sanctuary and there enjoy
blessed communion with Him in a fellowship meal (v. 11). Not only Moses, the
appointed mediator, but the entire nation – represented in its future priests and
elders – could righteously come before the Holy One of Israel.
The covenantal context for this encounter is crucial to its interpretation and
therefore cannot be overemphasized. In the absence of this context, not only does
the reader run the risk of missing the overall significance of the passage, various
aspects of the account become biblically and theologically problematic.
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1)
In this regard, the most obvious problem that emerges pertains to the
distinction afforded this particular group of Israelites. The narrative is
explicit that they entered into God’s presence and looked upon Him, and
yet He didn’t “stretch out His hand” against them. And yet, only a short
while earlier God had warned that any person who even touched the
border of His sanctuary-mountain would be killed. Moses had been told to
establish bounds for the sons of Israel and solemnly warn them lest anyone
“break through” to gaze upon the Lord (ref. 19:9-12, 20-21), and now,
here were seventy-three men of Israel, standing on the holy mount, gazing
at Yahweh and eating and drinking in His presence.
2)
The difficulty is compounded by the fact that they were there at the Lord’s
command. The God who had directed these men to appear before Him was
the same God who had sternly warned all the people to stay back from
Him. The One who had threatened that He would “break out against” any
man who gazed upon Him was now withholding His hand of judgment
from numerous individuals who were doing just that.
Taken at face value, this startling turn of events seems to indicate either God’s
personal capriciousness or the arbitrariness of His command. Either way, the
implication is the same: God is shown to lack integrity and therefore be unworthy
of trust or submission. Without some further explanation, the whole of biblical
revelation ends up being brought into disrepute.
The answer to these and other apparent difficulties arising from this encounter is
its covenantal framework. These men, drawn from the ranks of Israel, appeared
before God as representing the covenant nation as it stood in perfect
righteousness under the inaugurated covenant. Fundamental to making sense of
this context is the recognition that Israel is here being viewed as a covenant
entity rather than a collection of individual people.
-
These men were allowed to see God and, as it were, commune with Him,
not because of their personal righteousness, but because of the covenantal
righteousness of the nation they represented. The seventy elders, along
with the individuals who would soon represent Israel as its priests, were
designated by God to represent the whole nation. And the nation, as the
covenant “son of God,” was presently blameless before Him, though every
single individual within Israel – including Moses himself – existed in a
state of personal sinfulness. At issue in this context is not the status or
condition of any one person or group of individuals, but the status of the
nation under the terms of the covenant.
-
This also explains God’s apparent duplicity. By divine designation, these
seventy-three men represented Yahweh’s newly “begotten” son, and, in
accordance with that relationship and the intimacy it implied, the Father
was properly calling His son to come and commune with Him.
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The communion of Father and son recounted in these verses – so mysterious and
perplexing to many – spotlights what the covenant had made Israel to be and
epitomized what it demanded of them. Obedience to the covenant amounted to
living in authentic intimacy with Yahweh as His devoted son. What, then, could
better communicate the meaning of the covenant and Israel’s conformity to it than
an intimate meal of fellowship between Father and beloved child?
As this meal brought the covenant-making process to its climax, so it served as
the high point of Israel’s historical life with God; never again would the covenant
“son” enjoy such immediacy and intimacy with its Father. In fact, no sooner
would the representatives of Israel depart from Yahweh’s presence than the nation
would begin its departure from the covenant it had so eagerly embraced. But all
this was according to a larger divine plan: The Sinai Covenant – as indeed Israel
itself as the “son of the covenant” – was to play a crucial revelatory and
preparatory role in the outworking of God’s purpose for mankind in Christ.
The Law of Moses was Israel’s covenant with God. As such, it established the
Father-son relationship between its two parties. Yahweh had redeemed Israel and
brought them to Himself at Sinai in order to unite with them in covenant intimacy.
The purpose for the covenant was communion, and Yahweh attested to His
accomplishment of that goal by communing with His “son” in a fellowship meal.
God’s goal in His covenant with Israel was restored communion – that is, the
recovery of sacred space. But this relationship with Abraham’s physical seed
was prevenient and prophetic: God intended it to portray and prepare for its
ultimate and everlasting counterpart. And as Israel’s covenant relationship with
God served a prophetic role, so did its pinnacle expression in the covenant meal
on His sanctuary mountain. What Israel had experienced with Yahweh on Mount
Sinai was merely a splendid shadow – a glorious foretaste of an infinitely more
glorious communion to come. For that future communion would embrace the
whole of humanity: Israel, the “image-son” and descendent of Abraham, was to
find its own ultimacy in a new mankind springing from a new Man – a new Israel
who is God’s true Image-Son. In Him the Lord has purposed to gather to Himself
all of Abraham’s spiritual offspring and bring them to His holy sanctuary in order
that they should commune with Him in perfect intimacy forever.
“Now it will come about that in the last days, the mountain of the house of the Lord will
be established as the chief of the mountains, and will be raised above the hills; and all
the nations will stream to it. And many peoples will come and say, ‘Come, let us go up to
the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; that He may teach us
concerning His ways, and that we may walk in His paths.’ For the Torah will go forth
from Zion, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. And He will judge between the
nations, and will render decisions for many peoples; and they will hammer their swords
into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not lift up sword
against nation, and never again will they learn war. Come, house of Jacob, and let us
walk in the light of the Lord.” (Isaiah 2:2-5)
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5.
The Provision of the Tabernacle and Priesthood (24:12-31:18)
Immediately following Israel’s fellowship meal with its new covenant Father, Yahweh
called Moses to again ascend Mount Sinai after he and the men with him had returned to
the waiting nation below. His stated intention was to provide Moses with stone tablets
containing His covenant “law and commandment” (24:12). Moses had written for Israel
the words of the covenant in a book; Yahweh would provide them with tablets of stone
etched with His own finger.
It is noteworthy that, while the Lord called Moses to the top of the mountain to give him
the two tables of the covenant, His entire interaction with Moses during his forty days in
His presence was devoted to the provision of a priestly system for mediating Israel’s
relationship with Him. The stone tablets aren’t mentioned again in the text until Moses
was ready to return to the people (ref. 31:18). God spent forty days instructing Moses
about a sanctuary and its ministering priesthood, but none of that content was inscribed
on the tablets; they were specifically for recording the covenant itself as it was
epitomized in the Ten Words (cf. Deuteronomy 4:10-13, 5:1-22, 10:1-4).
Yahweh’s call to Moses to receive the tables of the covenant and His provision of them
form the bookends for chapters 25-31, which deal exclusively with the Lord’s detailed
instruction regarding His sanctuary and the men who were to minister before Him in
connection with it. This has led some to regard these chapters as a digression from the
covenant narrative surrounding them (chapters 19-34) – and possibly even a later addition
to the text, particularly since this instruction wasn’t recorded on the tablets. Nevertheless,
two key observations show the relation of this section to the larger narrative.
1)
First of all, it’s important to emphasize that the priestly system with all its
particulars wasn’t part of the Sinai Covenant. The Hebrews writer took note of
this fact, observing that the Law (that is, Israel’s covenant) had its basis in the
priesthood (7:11). This being the case, it follows that the priesthood was separate
from the covenant. But it also implies that the Levitical system preceded the Sinai
Covenant in some sense, which the Exodus narrative seems to contradict. The
answer to this apparent difficulty is found in the second observation below.
2)
The way that Yahweh introduced His instruction regarding the tabernacle and
priesthood indicates that He was providing this religious institution to mediate
His relationship with His covenant “son.” In fulfillment of His promise to
Abraham, Yahweh intended to dwell among the patriarch’s descendents (25:1-8;
also cf. 15:17 with Genesis 17:7, 26:1-3, 28:13-15), and that goal was to be
realized in connection with a physical sanctuary and an appointed priesthood.
Yahweh was to be King in Israel, but His rule would not be that of a detached,
self-serving despot; He would rule over His people as their covenant Father,
lovingly serving their good by His immediate presence among them, protecting
them and providing for their every need. Canaan – chosen by Yahweh to be
Israel’s kingdom land – was first and foremost His sanctuary.
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The Lord had redeemed Israel not simply to deliver them from their bondage in
Egypt, but to bring them to Himself. At issue was not redemption from something
as much as for something. God ransomed Abraham’s descendents in order to
make them His unique son by covenant and then bring them into His sanctuary
land. Yahweh would exercise His rule over His son (and through that image-son,
over the whole earth) in the context of their communion – not according to the
“procedure of the king” (1 Samuel 8:1-17), but as Israel’s Father-Lord.
At the time of the Exodus, the Lord had designated the whole of Canaan as His
dwelling place, but it was necessary that there should be a particular, tangible
place where He could meet with His covenant son. The tabernacle was to serve
that central function of the covenant; Israel would interact with its Father-God at
His sanctuary, and the Lord’s priests would facilitate that interaction. And so,
when the author of Hebrews declared that the Law was founded on the priesthood,
he wasn’t speaking of chronological priority. As Exodus records, the Law of
Moses did indeed come first, but the priesthood was primary in that the Law –
which specified and governed Israel’s covenant relationship with God – was to be
administered and mediated through the priesthood. In that sense the Law
presupposed the priesthood; it had its basis in the Levitical system.
When the nature and function of the Sinai Covenant are correctly discerned, God’s
parallel instruction regarding His sanctuary is no longer seen as a deviation and/or
distraction from the narrative’s central concern. God called Moses before Him to give
him the tables of the covenant, but Moses was to bring them to Israel together with a
comprehensive system for administering the covenantal Torah they contained.
a.
Like all covenants, the covenant at Sinai acted to define and establish a
relationship between the covenanting parties. Specifically, it bound Israel and
Yahweh together as Father and son, and the intimacy of this relationship was to
be expressed tangibly by means of a physical sanctuary wherein Yahweh could
dwell in the midst of His people.
God’s goal in the covenant was communion with Abraham’s offspring, but from
the very outset the narrative makes it clear that there was a limit to the intimacy
that could exist between Father and son. In the terror of their encounter with
Yahweh the people had pled with Moses to mediate between them and Him, and
he did so first in communicating God’s ordinances to them (ref. 20:18-21:1).
The necessity of separation was demonstrated next in the fellowship meal that
followed immediately after the ratification of the covenant. Yahweh informed
Moses that he was allowed to draw near to Him, but the others were to worship at
a distance (ref. again 24:1-2). Even in its covenant blamelessness, Israel was
obligated to keep an appropriate distance from its Father-God. So it would be in
connection with the physical sanctuary as it represented the Lord’s presence
among His people: as He promised, Yahweh would dwell in their midst, but they
would encounter Him only through an elaborate system of mediation.
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That God provided Moses with the priestly system in the context of Israel’s
innocence is vitally important, for it shows that the principle of mediation wasn’t
bound to the nation’s covenant-breaking. Even in its covenant righteousness Israel
couldn’t approach its Father-God directly, highlighting the fact that the divinehuman reconciliation embodied in the Sinai Covenant was only symbolic. The
Father-son relationship Yahweh formed with Israel portrayed His goal of
recovering sacred space, but it didn’t effect it. Nothing had really changed from
that fateful day in Eden: God’s image-son remained estranged from Him; as it had
been since the Fall, worship continued to be a matter of mediated distance.
b.
Though at that moment Israel was faultless under the covenant, God intended that
the priestly system would also mediate His relationship with them in the context
of their covenant-breaking. While Moses was unaware of what was brewing in the
minds of the sons of Israel, Yahweh knew. Even as He was giving to Moses the
details for the sanctuary and the mediating priesthood, Israel was on its way to
breaking the covenant. Before long the relationship between Father and son would
be shattered, and with the covenant broken, how could Israel continue to be
Israel? And by implication, what would become of God’s promise to Abraham?
Yahweh’s answer to Israel’s future failure was the mediation of vicarious
righteousness. Throughout its generations, unfaithfulness would be the legacy of
the covenant son, making the work of substitutionary atonement the very heart of
the priestly ministration. Thus God’s instruction to Moses included the basics of
the sacrificial system that would provide atonement for the nation and its priests,
thereby securing the continuance of the covenant (cf. 29:1-14, 29-37, and 30:10).
Israel’s impending disobedience only highlighted what had always been true: Abraham’s
covenant offspring were yet sons of Adam; they existed as he did, in a state of
fundamental estrangement. No matter how serious and conscientious their commitment to
live as the Lord’s devoted covenant son, there was no hope of their doing so.
-
Though the sons of Israel had not yet formally violated the covenant, in their
hearts they had been unfaithful from the time the Lord revealed Himself to them
in Egypt. In spite of their repeated oath, Israel would not and could not be Israel.
-
Even in its covenant innocence, Israel’s communion with God was a matter of
mediated distance. The implication was unmistakable, even to that first generation
that camped at Sinai: Despite its unique calling and covenant privilege, Israel
continued under the curse inaugurated by its progenitor; Yahweh had not yet
restored men to the true intimacy of image-sons.
However it might appear, the coming episode involving the golden calf would bring no
fundamental change to the nation; it would merely externalize the reality that had existed
long before God’s call to Israel – the reality He had already attested by maintaining His
distance from His son. Soon, with the covenant openly violated and Israel estranged from
its Father, the necessity of mediated distance would no longer be a matter of question.
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The basis for the Lord’s instruction regarding a sanctuary and priesthood was His
intention, now formally established by covenant, to dwell in the midst of His people.
Yahweh had designated the entire land of Canaan as His sanctuary, but the practicalities
of communing with His covenant “son” (further complicated during the period prior to
Israel’s settling in Canaan) necessitated that He establish a specific dwelling place where
Israel could meet with Him. The tabernacle would serve this purpose, being a portable
sanctuary designed to accompany Israel throughout its journey to Canaan where it could
then be established in a fixed place assigned by God (ref. Deuteronomy 12:1-11).
c.
Appropriately, Yahweh began His instruction concerning His sanctuary by
directing Moses to take from the people a contribution of various materials to be
used for constructing the tabernacle and its furnishings and providing the sacred
trappings for the priests (25:1-7). Among other things, that contribution was to
consist of precious metals and exotic fabrics and fine linen – materials not found
in the wilderness of Sinai, but brought from Egypt. As the Lord had promised to
Abraham centuries earlier, He made the hearts of the Egyptians favorable to the
sons of Israel at the time of the Exodus so that they left with abundant possessions
(cf. Genesis 15:13-14 with Exodus 3:19-22, 12:35-36). Like a triumphal army –
though they had taken no weapon in hand, Abraham’s descendents had plundered
their oppressors, and now the wealth of Egypt was to be used to build a sanctuary
for Yahweh, Israel’s conquering King.
The significance of this arrangement may not be immediately evident, but it
established a fundamental principle that would be crucially important in the
upward movement of salvation history leading to its fulfillment in Jesus Christ.
In this first instance of building a house for Himself – and in every one to follow
after it – the Lord would do so by gathering to Himself the wealth of the nations.
It would be that way with the first and second temples, and so also preeminently
with the spiritual house prefigured by all its physical predecessors: Once more, in
the fullness of the times, Yahweh would shake the world, gathering in the
precious value of the nations to serve as “living stones” for building His ultimate
and everlasting sanctuary (cf. Haggai 2:1-7 and Zechariah 6:9-15 with 1 Peter
2:1-10; also 1 Corinthians 3:16-17; 2 Corinthians 6:16; Ephesians 2:17-22).
d.
After issuing His charge to collect various kinds of materials for constructing His
sanctuary, the Lord proceeded to instruct Moses in the specific items to be made
from them. He began with the furnishings of the sanctuary rather than its physical
structure, notably moving outward in his enumeration from the inner sanctum –
that is, from the Most Holy Place (“Holy of Holies”) to the Holy Place outside the
veil. The reason is that the Holy of Holies epitomized God’s dwelling; if Canaan
was Yahweh’s holy mountain – His sanctuary, and the tabernacle represented its
local expression, the Holy of Holies was the precise place of His presence. It was
the holiest site on earth, rendering its furnishings most holy and therefore to be
endowed with the greatest honor.
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1)
Beginning, then, in the inner sanctuary, the Lord first described to Moses
the construction of the Ark of the Covenant. This would be the sole article
in the Holy of Holies, and therefore the most sacred of all the tabernacle’s
furnishings (25:10-22). The ark was to be a box structure made of acacia
wood, a dense and tight-grained wood valued for its durability and
resistance to insect damage. The wooden panels were to be overlaid on
both sides with pure gold with a solid gold molding applied, probably as
an ornate rim circumscribing the box at the top. As one of Yahweh’s holy
things, the ark was to be transported on the shoulders of designated men,
and gold rings with gold-overlaid acacia poles were provided for this.
The ark was a five-sided box having a separate cover of solid gold. This
cover was known as the kapporeth, or “mercy seat.” The mercy seat was
highlighted by two cherubim bowed toward each other with their wingtips
touching. As the ark symbolized the footstool of Yahweh’s royal throne
(ref. 1 Chronicles 28:2; cf. Isaiah 66:1), so the kapporeth represented the
place of atonement – the place where the blood of the sin offerings would
be sprinkled on the Day of Atonement (Leviticus 16:1-15). In this role, it
stood symbolically between God, represented by His glory-cloud
(Shekinah) over the wings of the cherubim, and the covenant itself,
represented by the tablets of the testimony inside the ark (25:17-22). The
significance of this in the life of Israel was both obvious and profound:
In the context of its unfaithfulness to the covenant, the mercy seat and its
annual ritual conveyed to Israel that divine grace in the provision of
substitionary atonement constituted the mediating agency that bound them
as covenant-breakers to Yahweh, their faithful covenant Father-God.
2)
Moving outside the Holy of Holies, the Lord next described the Table of
Showbread. It would utilize the same materials as the ark (25:23-30) and
it, too, was to be carried with acacia poles overlaid with gold. Because of
its function, it was to include various dishes, bowls, jars, and pans made of
pure gold. The table would be situated on the north side of the outer
sanctuary (the Holy Place) and was designed to hold the “bread of the
face,” more commonly known as the bread of the presence. This consisted
of twelve loaves arranged in two rows of six, with the loaves
corresponding to the twelve tribes of Israel (ref. Leviticus 24:5-9). God
commanded that this bread was to be always set before Him, and for this
reason it is also called the “perpetual bread” (Numbers 4:7). The first of
the priests’ weekly Sabbath obligations was its replacement.
Symbolically, it testified in a unique way to God’s covenant presence
among Israel. His presence was most powerfully represented by the
Shekinah over the mercy seat in the Most Holy Place, but the same
representation in the bread of the presence was to communicate to Israel
that Jehovah was their “bread,” and therefore their life and sustenance.
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“Jehovah, who dwelt in the Most Holy Place between the Cherubim, was
the God manifest and worshipped in the Holy Place. There the mediatorial
ministry, in the name of, and representing Israel, ‘laid before’ Him the
bread of the Presence…The ‘bread’ ‘laid before Him’ in the northern or
most sacred part of the Holy Place was that of His Presence, and meant
that the Covenant-people owned ‘His Presence’ as their bread and their
life.” (Alfred Edersheim, The Temple, Its Ministry and Services)
Furthermore, frankincense was set along the two rows of bread and
Edersheim notes its significance as follows: “…pure incense was placed
between the shewbread – for, the life which is in His presence is one of
praise; while the incense was burned before the shewbread was eaten by
the priests, to indicate God’s acceptance and ratification of Israel’s
dependence upon Him, as also to betoken praise to God while living upon
His presense. That this ‘Presence’ meant the special manifestation of God,
as afterwards fully vouchsafed in Christ, ‘the Angel of His Presence,’ it is
scarcely necessary to explain at length in this place.”
3)
Yahweh moved next to the Menorah (lampstand) that would stand
opposite the bread of the presence on the south side of the Holy Place
(25:31-40). It was to be an exquisite work of art and craftsmanship, being
formed in one piece out of hammered gold. It, too, would have accessories
fashioned of pure gold. Moses was instructed to construct the lampstand in
the appearance of an almond tree, having six branches off the main
“trunk,” each with its own set of bulbs and flowers, for a total of seven
distinct lamps. This arrangement and arboreal appearance made an
important contribution to the lampstand’s symbolism.
-
The first thing to note is the significance of the almond tree
imagery. In Hebrew there is a play on words between the noun for
almond tree and the verb to watch (ref. Jeremiah 1:11-12). This
linguistic suggestion of watching, considered in relation to the
lampstand’s perpetual light, conveyed the idea that, by the light of
His presence, Yahweh ceaselessly watches over His people.
-
Each branch of the lampstand terminated with a bowl formed to
look like an almond blossom. Those bowls contained the oil and
wick and so were the source of the menorah’s light. To the person
looking at the lampstand, it would appear as if the almond
blossoms – which spoke of the promise of new life – were radiant
with light. Light and life were thus combined in a powerful image.
Vern Poythress observes: “The tree symbolizes the growth of life.
It issues new light in the form of fruit that in turn will give birth to
new trees. The tree is truly both a tree of light and a tree of life.
The reproductive living power of the tree is in its fruit, that is, the
light, which shines on the earth and sustains its growth.”
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As the tabernacle in its entirety symbolized God’s presence among
His people, so the lampstand pointed to the fact that Israel’s
covenant Father was also its light and life (Psalm 36:7-9) – a truth
that would find its ultimacy in Jesus Christ (cf. Job 33:1-30 with
John 1:4, 8:12; ref. also John 12:30-36). The tree imagery of the
menorah reminded Israel of the same truth communicated by the
symbolism of the tree of life in God’s first garden-sanctuary: Life
for the image-son is found in communion with the Father.
The lampstand’s seven lamps were to be kept burning continually, making
trimming the wicks and refilling the oil part of the priests’ daily
responsibilities (Leviticus 24:1-4). This was also a practical necessity
because the tabernacle had no windows and was covered with multiple
layers of material; its only light came from the menorah. There was no day
or night in the sanctuary – no light of the sun or moon; the radiant light of
the lampstand alone provided perpetual illumination of Yahweh’s dwelling
place and men’s presence with Him. The lampstand thus anticipated the
day when, in the consummate sanctuary embracing the whole of creation,
there would be no need for external luminaries; that sanctuary, too, was to
find its illumination coming from within as the glory of God illumines it
and the Lamb stands as its lamp (cf. Revelation 21:22-27, 22:1-5).
God had been Israel’s light from the very beginning, causing the sun to
shine in Goshen when the rest of Egypt was cloaked in deep darkness.
And when He led His people out of the dark night of their bondage,
Yahweh had gone before them as their perpetual and faithful “guiding
light,” leading them ceaselessly and inexorably toward the inheritance
promised by covenant to Abraham. By night as well as by day, the light of
the Lord’s presence illumined Israel’s path and directed their steps.
Later in the prophetic writings, this imagery would be used in reference to
a greater redemption to come in which men would be led out of the
spiritual darkness of sin’s bondage and brought into the light of spiritual
life and perpetual, covenant union with God (cf. Isaiah 9:1-7, 42:1-16,
49:1-13, 51:1-11, 59:1-60:22; also Micah 7:1-9; Zechariah 14:1-9). This
prophetic imagery, drawing as it did upon the Exodus, was to find its
fulfillment in Yahweh’s Servant, the consummate light of His presence
and power (Isaiah 8:5-9:7, 42:1-16, 49:1-12; cf. Matthew 4:12-17; Luke
2:25-32; John 1:1-9, 3:19-21, 6:23-58, 8:12, 9:1-5, 11:1-10, 12:20-46).
This symbolism of light – and, by contrast, darkness – had its origin in the
emergence of light in the first creation. God called this light into existence
that it should serve as the foundational point of order in a dark, disordered
cosmos (Genesis 1:1-5). As the chaotic quality ascribed to the cosmos in
its initial creation is epitomized in the idea of darkness, so the ordering of
the primordial chaos is associated with the principle of light.
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Most importantly, from the point of this initial act of creation the Bible
attributes to the opposing principles of light and darkness a crucial and
progressive spiritual significance in the upward movement of redemptive
history that culminates with the new creation in Jesus Christ. Paul
recognized this, and so correlated the cosmic entrance of light at the first
creation with the divine illumination of the human soul in the Spirit’s new
creational work of regeneration (2 Corinthians 4:1-6).
Similarly, as the creation of light was the first act of God on the stage of
redemptive history, so the destruction of darkness is seen to be His last act
at its culmination (Revelation 22:1-5). In the very beginning light
dispelled the disorder of the primeval chaos; at the end of the age the pure
light that is God Almighty and the Lamb will finally and forever dispel the
darkness of the chaos and disorder of sin and death.
4)
The last furnishing of the outer sanctuary was the Altar of Incense.
Notably, God didn’t give Moses the prescription for it until He had
instructed him concerning the priesthood (30:1-10). The probable reason
for this was that the burning of incense most epitomized the priestly work
of unending intercession and mediation between Yahweh and Israel.
Like the ark and table, the incense altar was to be constructed of acacia
wood and overlaid with pure gold and provided with gold rings and goldcovered acacia poles for transporting it. It would stand in the center of the
Holy Place right in front of the curtain that separated the two rooms of the
tabernacle. Being located in the closest proximity to the ark, the incense
altar was reckoned together with it as “most holy to the Lord” (cf. 30:9-10
with Hebrews 9:4). The altar was consecrated to Yahweh’s worship, and
so also was the incense to be burned on it; the Lord prescribed it to Moses
as an exact blend of ingredients to be dedicated for exclusive use in His
sanctuary. It, too, would be holy to the Lord (30:34-38).
Every morning and evening the priests burned the consecrated incense
upon the altar, and its fragrance would have filled both rooms. Even
between these times of offering, its sweet aroma would have lingered and
provided a constant presence in the sanctuary. The role of the incense altar
was to symbolically highlight Israel’s communion with Yahweh. The
smoke of its incense – offered up by the priest on behalf of the people and
ascending into the Lord’s presence – represented Israel’s continual prayer
by which the covenant son expressed his devotion to and dependence upon
His divine Father. Thus the New Testament takes this symbolism and
assigns it to the prayers of the saints (Revelation 5:8, 8:1-4). But beyond
that, the sweet fragrance of the saints’ prayers presupposes the prayers of
the One who entered through the veil as forerunner on their behalf; the
One whose prayers of intercession and mediation make theirs acceptable
(John 17:1ff; cf. Hebrews 3:14-16, 5:1-7, 6:17-20, 7:23-27, 10:19-23).
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e.
After instructing Moses concerning the furnishings of the tabernacle, the Lord
turned His attention to its structural features (26:1-37). He began with the
coverings for the tabernacle, moving outward as He had done with its furniture.
1)
Over the acacia wood superstructure, the tabernacle was to have a
covering of fine linen brought from Egypt. That covering was to consist
of ten curtain panels joined together by a series of loops and gold clasps.
These white linen panels were to have figures of cherubim woven into
them using blue, purple, and scarlet yarn. These figures would have been
located on the linen panels so as to be visible overhead when the panels
were assembled and draped over the gold covered superstructure.
Cherubim are the angelic entities closest to God, ministering directly to
Him as they stand in His presence. Thus cherubim guarded the entrance to
Eden (Genesis 3:24), and were represented on the mercy seat in the Holy
of Holies. Later prophetic visions of Yahweh would also include His
ministering cherubim who are shown symbolically supporting His throne
and serving His transport (cf. Ezekiel 10:1-20 with 1:4-28, 9:3 and Psalm
18:9-10). Thus this imagery on the linens emphasized that the tabernacle
represented Yahweh’s earthly dwelling place, even as the ark of the
covenant was the footstool of His throne (2 Samuel 6:1-2; Psalm 80:1).
2)
Curtains made of goats’ hair formed the second covering. It was to be
spread over the linen covering in such a way that no part of it would be
visible. Thus it consisted of eleven panels, each of which was two cubits
longer than the panels of the linen covering. It, too, was to have its
curtains conjoined by loops and clasps, but being farther removed from
God’s presence, its clasps were bronze rather than gold.
3)
Two more coverings were then to be applied over the tent: the first
consisting of rams’ skins sewed together and dyed red, and the outermost
covering made of seal skins (NAS – porpoise skins) (26:14). These
coverings were likely peaked at the center and provided a weather barrier.
Thus the tabernacle was clothed with four layers, each one increasingly common –
thicker, coarser and heavier – as the layers moved outward, and each increasingly
impervious to the environmental factors of sun, wind, and rain.
4)
Supporting these layers of material was a three-sided wooden
superstructure consisting of forty-eight acacia boards fifteen feet long and
slightly more than two feet wide (26:15-29). Each board was to be entirely
overlaid with gold and constructed with two tenons at the bottom. The
three walls of the tabernacle would be constructed by setting the boards
edge-to-edge and dropping their tenons into silver sockets that served as
support bases. The two sides consisted of twenty boards each; the rear
wall employed six boards with two others joining the two corners.
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After being set into their supporting sockets and joined at the corners, the
walls were then stabilized using a series of gold-covered acacia wood bars
passing through gold rings on the boards.
5)
6)
The boards formed a three-sided rectangular structure, but that space was
to include two sanctuaries: the outer sanctuary or Holy Place, and the
inner cubic sanctuary known as the Holy of Holies. The Holy of Holies
was at the rear, and was to be separated from the outer room by a veil
suspended on four gold-overlaid acacia pillars (26:31-33). Like the
tabernacle’s inner covering, this veil was to be an exquisite work of skilled
craftsmanship, fabricated of fine twisted linen woven with blue, purple
and scarlet thread and embroidered with cherubim. The inner veil divided
the rectangular tabernacle into two rooms, and this division served a
couple of important revelatory functions:
-
First, it contributed to the tabernacle’s overall staged structure.
Beginning with the entrance into the courtyard on the east,
movement into and through the tabernacle was a matter of
progressive stages, each of which expressed an increasing glory
conveyed by the articles present, the materials used, the imagery
employed, and the function performed. This intricate staging
scheme insured that Israel would have a profound sense of its
approach to God and what that approach entailed.
-
But as the two rooms of the tabernacle communicated the idea of
progressive nearness to God, so they also expressed the principles
of distance and separation. The Sinai Covenant fulfilled
Yahweh’s promise to Abraham to be the God of his descendents;
He had been present with the patriarchs, and He would dwell in the
midst of Israel. But He would do so inside of a closed sanctuary
behind a veil of separation. Israel’s privilege and glory was that
their God was enthroned among them above the wings of the
cherubim, but access to His throne room was forbidden to them.
Yahweh had appointed a ritual and symbolic pathway into His presence,
but every step along that path brought increased restrictions of time, place,
and person. The Lord resided symbolically in the Holy of Holies in the
form of His Shekinah, but in that dwelling place He was separated from
and inaccessible to even His ordained priests as they went about their
appointed duties of worship and service on the other side of the veil. At
the east end of the outer sanctuary was a second veil leading out into a
courtyard that surrounded the tabernacle (27:9-19). This courtyard, in
turn, had its own entrance, also on the east side. The sons of Israel could
enter from the camp into the courtyard of the sanctuary, but only the
priests could enter the sanctuary itself. The inner veil separated the priests
from Yahweh; the outer veil separated the people from Him.
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7)
Two sacred furnishings were located in the courtyard: the priests’ laver
(30:17-21) and the altar of burnt offering (27:1-8). Like the clasps that
conjoined the panels of the goats’ hair curtain, their lesser holiness – by
virtue of their greater distance from Yahweh’s presence and their visibility
to Israel – was expressed by their being made of bronze rather than gold.
The bronze altar was the first object encountered when passing through
the entrance into the courtyard. It was the site of Israel’s burnt offerings,
which were sacrificed by the priests every morning and evening in
addition to offerings brought for personal offenses and special occasions.
The laver was positioned between the bronze altar and the veil into the
tabernacle. It was used by the priests for ritual washing before entering the
Holy Place to perform their daily duties in burning incense and
maintaining the lampstand (ref. 40:30-32). Its relative commonness among
the various objects associated with the tabernacle is evident not only in its
bronze construction, but also by the conspicuous lack of definition God
provided regarding it. Unlike the furnishings of the sanctuary – whose
features and form were prescribed in minute detail, Yahweh’s instruction
regarding the laver was simply that it be made of bronze. It wasn’t a part
of the sanctuary or its sacred rites, but only provided for the priests’ ritual
cleansing in preparation for their appointed service and worship.
The fact that God exhaustively and minutely prescribed the tabernacle’s structure,
furnishings, and arrangement has led many to feel the need to try to assign symbolic
meaning to every aspect of it. The reasoning is that God wouldn’t have bothered to
provides such intricate and exhaustive definition if all of the details weren’t individually
significant. This conviction has led to all sorts of speculation regarding the meaning of
the tabernacle’s various features, dimensions, numbers, materials, shapes, colors, etc. But
while the symbolism associated with many things is clearly evident or demonstrable from
the breadth of biblical revelation, attempting to assign meaning to all of the details of the
tabernacle and its arrangement is irresponsible; there is simply no way to make those
assignments without entering into the realm of speculation.
But if the communication of manifold layers of symbolic meaning wasn’t God’s reason
for prescribing every detail of His sanctuary, what was the reason? The answer begins
with recognizing that the tabernacle as a whole was symbolic. Yahweh’s intention wasn’t
that the sons of Israel would find meaning in the specifics of the minutiae as such, but in
the fact of the minutiae: The Lord prescribed every aspect of the tabernacle in order to
emphasize that this earthly sanctuary represented a greater entity that lay behind it. God
left no detail of the tabernacle undefined precisely because it was to be understood as a
physical replica of an ultimate spiritual counterpart (cf. 25:9, 40 with Hebrews 8:5).
The point of God’s exacting definition was to emphasize the typological nature of the
sanctuary: The earthly tabernacle reflected and expressed in tangible form God’s
intention for sacred space and its fulfillment in the person and work of Jesus Christ.
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f.
Yahweh’s covenant with Israel defined and established the Father-son
relationship that was to exist between them, and the tabernacle provided the
primary tangible expression of their intimacy by symbolizing God’s abiding
presence with His people. This intimacy was further expressed by the way God
ordered the camp of Israel in relation to the tabernacle. This prescription is
provided in the book of Numbers (2:1-34, 3:38).
The tabernacle and its courtyard were configured as a rectangular space that was
to stand in the center of the Israelite encampment with three of Israel’s tribes
camped on each side. In that way it emphasized to the people God’s immediate
presence among them and His centrality to their national, covenant life. It
provided them with a constant reminder of the meaning of the covenant and their
status as Abraham’s descendents: Yahweh had bound Himself by covenant to be
the God, Father, and Lord-Protector of Israel.
The east side of the tabernacle was the most significant, evidenced by the eastern
location of all three of its veils. Entrance into the courtyard came from the east,
and for that reason Moses, Aaron, and the priests camped on the east side of the
tabernacle immediately outside the courtyard curtain (Numbers 3:38). Beyond
them to the east camped Judah, Zebulun, and Issachar. Among the three, Judah
was preeminent, being the first of the twelve tribes to set out after the ark, and the
tribe under whose standard Zebulun and Issachar were reckoned (Numbers 2:1-9).
Judah enjoyed unique status among the tribes of Israel by virtue of its regal
appointment and destiny. Judah would be the progenitor of David through whom
would come Yahweh’s Messiah. This One was the son specified in the Davidic
Covenant, making Him the focal point of Israel’s hope regarding the promised
kingdom (cf. 2 Samuel 7:1ff; Psalm 89; Isaiah 9:1-7, 11:1-16, 55:1-5; Jeremiah
23:1-6, 33:14-26; Ezekiel 34:1-31, 37:15-28; Hosea 3:1-5; Amos 9:11-15).
The tribal intimacy of Zebulun and Issachar with Judah testified prophetically of
Galilee as the place of Jesus’ upbringing and the center of His public ministry.
These two tribes, along with Naphtali, would be given the land inheritance
surrounding the Sea of Galilee, and the Lord’s prophet would later reveal that
upon this region the glory of God would first arise (Isaiah 9:1-7). That these
Israelite tribes would be the first to see the sun rise in the east anticipated their
privilege in being the first to behold the true Sunrise from on high – the One in
whom the fullness of God’s mercy would visit those sitting in darkness and in the
shadow of death (ref. Luke 1:67-79; cf. Matthew 4:12-17; Zechariah 14:1-4).
g.
As Yahweh had prescribed His sanctuary, so He appointed the men to construct it
(31:1-11). These were skilled artisans, but most importantly, they were men filled
with His Spirit. The Spirit had been the creative power behind God’s first
dwelling in Eden (Genesis 1:1-2), and so He would be with God’s true sanctuary
(cf. Zechariah 4:1-10 with Luke 1:26-35; John 1:1-34, 2:13-21, 4:19-26) and the
consummate temple constructed upon Him (Ephesians 2:11-22; 1 Peter 2:10ff).
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g.
The Sinai Covenant formalized Israel’s relationship with the God of Abraham,
and the tabernacle gave tangible, material expression to that relationship by
symbolizing God’s immediate presence with His elect “son.” As He had
promised, Yahweh was committed to dwelling with Abraham’s descendents, but
that commitment didn’t negate the defining reality of distance that had resulted
from the Fall. The first couple’s insistence upon independence had introduced
estrangement to the created order, destroying true intimacy between God and His
image-son; divine-human interaction was now a matter of mediated distance.
And so, while Yahweh’s dwelling was to be situated in the very midst of the camp
of Israel, the physical structure of the tabernacle and the arrangement of the
Israelites around it testified that He yet remained distant and unapproachable.
Interaction between Father and son needed to be mediated – a fact that both Israel
and Yahweh acknowledged by the request and appointment of Moses as mediator
(ref. again 20:18-21 and Deuteronomy 18:15-18). But Moses would not live
forever; a formal system of mediation was necessary to administer Israel’s
covenant relationship with Yahweh throughout future generations. The Aaronic
priesthood would serve this mediatorial function; the Sinai Covenant (the Law)
had its basis – its foundational presupposition – in the priesthood (Hebrews 7:11).
Estrangement had defined the divine-human relationship since the expulsion from
Eden, and Israel’s initial blamelessness under the covenant didn’t alter that
fundamental reality. Sacred space – the realm in which God is present in His
creation and personally accessible to His creatures – had become a matter of
mediated distance, and so the Lord gave Moses His prescription for a mediating
priesthood before Israel had broken its covenant vow. Not covenant violation, but
the fact of Creator-creature estrangement necessitated the provision of a system of
mediation (ref. 29:43-46). Thus the priestly ordination process itself included the
sacrifice of sin offerings: Even Israel’s priests – regardless of their covenantal
blamelessness – required a sacrifice for sin if they were to minister before the
Lord in His presence (ref. 29:9-14; cf. also Hebrews 7:26-27).
1)
The first thing God specified was the persons who were to serve Him as
priests. The entire tribe of Levi was to be consecrated to His service with
regard to the tabernacle (Numbers 3:1-4:49), with the priests being taken
from the one Levitical family of Aaron, Moses’ brother (28:1). Aaron was
to be the first high priest with his sons serving as priests under him. In
each successive generation, both the high priest and the sanctuary priests
would be drawn from Aaron’s line of descent.
2)
After specifying the individuals who would serve in the priesthood, the
Lord described to Moses the attire (28:2-43) to be worn by Aaron
(representing the high priest) and his sons (representing the regular
sanctuary priests). Together, the various garments and their accessories
spotlighted the central priestly elements of consecration and mediation.
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The garments were to be of a unique design, set apart solely for use by the
priests; like the men who wore them, they were holy (28:4). Their holy
character was further emphasized by the materials they were constructed
of. Like the tabernacle’s inner covering and veil, the high priest’s ephod
with its shoulder pieces was to be made of fine twisted linen embroidered
with gold thread and blue, scarlet and purple yarn. These materials linked
the priests with the sanctuary, thereby emphasizing that they were
ministers to the Lord in His dwelling place. Above every other component
of the priestly dress, the gold plate attached to the high priest’s turban
emphasized the principle of consecration; engraved on that plate were the
words, Holy to the Lord (28:36-37).
But this plate highlighting Aaron’s consecration also spoke of the priestly
work of mediation. It indicated the high priest’s role in obtaining
atonement for the nation of Israel and the things they offered to their God
(28:38). Though Israel’s priests were obligated to make atonement for
themselves, that action facilitated their work as intercessors and mediators
on behalf of the people. Thus the shoulder pieces that joined the two parts
of the ephod had attached to them two onyx stones engraved with the
names of the tribes of Israel (28:6-12). Similarly, the high priest’s
breastplate was set with twelve precious gems representing the twelve
tribes (28:15-21). These features, along with the Urim and Thummim,
expressed that the priests bore the burdens of the sons of Israel and carried
them on their hearts before Yahweh (vv. 22-30; cf. 28:38).
Aaron and all future high priests were also to wear a blue robe under the
ephod and breastplate. This robe was engraved with pomegranates on the
hem with bells attached between them. These bells would tinkle as Aaron
went about his duties in the sanctuary, and God linked this tinkling sound
with his being preserved from death (ref. 28:31-35). The text provides no
further explanation, and all sorts of interpretations have been proposed.
Some view this passage as pointing to the necessity of the high priest
appearing before God in his priestly garb; failing to do so would result in
the priest’s death. Others have associated the pomegranates and tinkling
bells with the sweetness of God’s word as it sounded forth. The idea, then,
is that the high priest was only to appear before Yahweh “clothed” with
His word as the bearer of His testimony. More likely, the bells emphasized
the fearfulness of appearing before God. The tinkling sound was intended
to provide a constant reminder to Israel that violation of Yahweh’s
prescription for coming before Him would incur a terrible penalty.
The rest of the priests – initially, Aaron’s sons – were to be clothed in
similar fashion (28:39-43), but their garb lacked the breastplate and the
engraved turban plate that highlighted the high priest’s unique work in
relation to the sacrifices for atonement (cf. 29:4-9; Leviticus 8:6-9).
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3)
After prescribing to Moses the priestly apparel, the Lord gave him detailed
instructions for ordaining Aaron and his sons after the completion of the
tabernacle (29:1-46; cf. Leviticus 8:1ff). The focal point of the ordination
process was the foundational covenant principle of consecration. All the
children of Israel – Aaron and his sons included – were to understand the
significance of the priesthood: Israel itself was a holy nation, but these
men were uniquely set apart to Yahweh for His service – service directly
to Him in the form of worship, and service on behalf of His people by
acting as mediators of the covenant relationship between Father and son.
This principle of consecration is emphasized first in the presentation of
Aaron and his sons to Yahweh at the entrance to the tabernacle. They were
being delivered to Him, and thus their presentation was marked by ritual
washing and clothing in the priestly garments. Those who would minister
in the Lord’s presence must be clean and undefiled, but they must also be
purged from guilt. For this reason the heart of the ordination process was
ritual sacrifice of atonement for sin that would apply first to the priests,
but also to the altar defiled by the “guilty blood” that was sprinkled upon it
(vv. 10-37). The series of sacrificial rituals were tied to three sacrificial
animals: one bull and two rams.
-
Under the Law, bulls were the highest form of sacrificial animal
and so appropriately served as sin offerings for the priests (cf.
Leviticus 4:1-3, 16:11). So it was with the process of ordination.
-
After offering the bull as a sin offering for Aaron and his sons,
Moses was to take the first ram and offer it to Yahweh as a whole
burnt offering – a fragrant and soothing aroma to Him (29:15-18).
-
The second ram was the ram of ordination (ref. Leviticus 8:22ff).
This ram was to be slaughtered and its blood applied to the
extremities of Aaron and his sons – their right ear lobes, thumbs,
and big toes – as a symbolic testimony to their entire consecration
to the Lord. This ritual was followed by two related rites of
consecration: sprinkling the prospective priests and their garments
with the ram’s blood, and then taking the holy parts of the ram and
placing them, together with some of the unleavened bread and
cakes, into the hands of the men and presenting them as a wave
offering to the Lord (ref. 29:1-3, 21-24; cf. Leviticus 8:25-30).
The individual significance of these sacrificial rituals together with their
order highlights a crucial principle: Those who will come before God and
worship and serve Him must be consecrated to Him through a purifying
process. This begins with expiation (satisfaction of justice due to guilt)
which results in propitiation (the appeasement of just indignation) leading
to consecration (reconciliation and establishment of intimacy).
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4)
Lastly, Aaron and his sons were to boil meat from the ram of ordination
and eat it as a peace offering in God’s presence along with the unleavened
bread and cakes (cf. 24:4-11; Leviticus 7:11-15). What remained was to be
burned with fire (29:31-34; cf. Leviticus 8:31-32). The entire sacrificial
process would be repeated daily over a span of seven days (seven being
the number of fullness or completion) during which time neither Aaron
nor his sons were permitted to leave the tabernacle or remove their priestly
garments (29:25-27; Leviticus 8:33-36).
h.
Having concluded his instruction to Moses regarding the priesthood, the Lord
summarized it with a postscript that highlighted the priests’ fundamental
mediatorial role (29:42-46). In the face of His detailed prescription, Moses and
the sons of Israel were not to lose sight of the significance of the tabernacle and
priestly system: They represented Yahweh’s commitment to fulfill His promise to
Abraham to be the God of his descendents and dwell with them in the land He
pledged to him. The tabernacle was to be His sanctuary, made holy by the
presence of His divine glory. There He would make His dwelling above the wings
of the cherubim, and from that place He would meet and interact with His elect
covenant son. Nevertheless, the encounter between Father and son was to occur at
a distance through the appointed priestly mediators.
i.
The postscript attached to the priesthood instruction is paralleled by God’s closing
statements as He prepared to give Moses the tablets of the covenant. Notably, that
summary was concerned solely with the centerpiece of the covenant, namely the
sabbath (31:17). The sabbath – not merely the weekly sabbath, but the principle
of shabbat expressed in various sabbatical observances – was the sign of Israel’s
consecration under the covenant. In this way it built upon circumcision as its
predecessor, which also signified consecration to God. Circumcision was the heart
of covenant obedience for the Abrahamic household (Genesis 17:1-11); so it was
to be with sabbath observance and Israel’s righteousness (cf. Isaiah 56:1-7).
Israel’s fidelity as Yahweh’s devoted son would be epitomized in the observance
of shabbat in all its expressions. But here God placed the emphasis on keeping the
weekly sabbath (vv. 14-15), making clear His reason for doing so: Among all the
sabbath observances, the weekly sabbath was most closely associated with the
creational sabbath (vv. 16-17). This association, so important in the progress of
biblical revelation, plays a crucial role here. By linking His sanctuary with the
sabbath, God was emphasizing that His presence with His people implicated the
principle of shabbat as it had defined the Creator-creature intimacy of the first
creation. Thus Israel was to regard its future communion with Yahweh in His
sanctuary-land – communion defined, established, and governed by the covenant
– as a sabbatical existence. Eden had been defined by shabbat until estrangement
destroyed it. But now divine Father and image-son were reconciled by covenant;
God’s dominion was once again marked by shabbat. For Israel, obedience to the
covenant meant living as a consecrated, sabbath people, even as Canaan,
representing a kind of restoration to God’s garden-sanctuary, was a sabbath land.
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6.
Israel’s Violation of the Covenant
After the remarkable fellowship meal on the mountain, the Lord again called Moses into
His presence to receive the tablets of the covenant. There He instructed him concerning
His sanctuary and the men who would stand before Him and mediate His covenant with
Israel. But unknown to Moses, even while Yahweh was providing the means for
communing with His chosen son, Israel was formulating a plan that would fracture the
integrity of the covenant and set a precedent from which the nation would never depart.
As the days and weeks passed with Moses up on Mount Sinai, the sons of Israel became
increasingly anxious. They had pled with Moses to act as their mediator and God had
granted them their desire; the nation was now Yahweh’s son by covenant, but the
interaction of Father and son depended upon Moses’ mediation. God had affirmed to
Israel His commitment to lead them to the land promised to their fathers, but here they sat
in a barren and hostile wilderness waiting for their leader and mediator to return. With
each passing day it seemed more likely that Moses wasn’t coming back and the people
became increasingly fearful that they were going to die there at the foot of Sinai unless
they took alternative action. That action was to seek Aaron’s help in constructing an
image by which they could move forward toward Canaan (Exodus 32:1).
A common assumption is that this image signified Israel’s departure from Yahweh in
favor of another “god.” But nothing could be further from the truth (ref. 32:4-5): Israel’s
intent wasn’t to forsake their covenant God, but to find an alternative way to continue
their interaction with Him. It wasn’t that they doubted Yahweh’s commitment to their
well-being; they merely recognized that His leadership and care were expressed through
Moses. From the time He revealed Himself to them in Egypt, all of the Lord’s interaction
with them had come through this man, and now it appeared that he was dead.
a.
This dynamic provides crucial insight into the thought process that led the sons of
Israel to make their request of Aaron. Their action represented a crisis of faith, but
not in the way commonly assumed. It wasn’t “faithless” in the sense of rejecting
Yahweh for an alternative deity, but in resorting to natural human reasoning.
In the ancient world, every nation and people group had its own gods to whom it
was committed and who were, in turn, committed to it. This worldview afforded
people a sense of personal and national identity, power, protection, and provision.
So closely were nations associated with their deities that a people’s prosperity and
might were regarded as proof of the power of its gods (ref. Deuteronomy 6:13-15;
Joshua 2:1-11, 5:1; 1 Samuel 5:1-7; Isaiah 10:5-11; cf. Psalm 96:1-13).
Nations and individuals looked to their gods for guidance and provision and
attributed their circumstances to them (in many instances they still do). But that
very fact implies that they believed they were able to gain access to their deities
and effectively recruit their aid. Within the context of religious societies, human
success and power are indications of divine favor, and magic is the means for
securing that favor.
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As used here, the term “magic” doesn’t refer to the magician’s slight of hand or
even the religious activities of occult practitioners (so-called “black” and “white”
magic). Magic is the way the natural man expresses in his own innate spirituality
in relation to himself and the spiritual forces he instinctively discerns: Magic
refers to the mindset, process and techniques by which men attempt to make
spiritual entities and forces – however they may conceive them – accessible and
useful to them. Understood in this way, it’s clear that magic is a universal human
phenomenon. More importantly, it testifies to the creational reality of sacred
space and the fact of its destruction because of estrangement.
1)
Israel’s faithlessness consisted in its retreat from what God had revealed to
them to once again trust in their former, natural way of thinking and
living. Like all of fallen humanity, they recognized the inherent distance
between deity and humanity, but, like other men, they were now seeking
to bridge that distance in the way humans naturally do within the context
of their estrangement: by means of tangible symbols and sacraments.
The essence of sin is unbelief resulting from autonomy and estrangement,
and these two defining human conditions find their most significant
convergence in religion as men attempt to make the divine present and
amenable to them through personal acts of manipulation.
Though this manipulation has a myriad of expressions and is often very
subtle and difficult to detect, it nonetheless lies at the heart of all religious
form and practice (even much of what passes for Christianity).
2)
As it explains Israel’s action, so the dynamic of magic also illumines
God’s prohibition regarding the making of images (20:4-6). Christians
widely debate the meaning of this commandment, and out of concern to
obey it many refuse to even look at a painting that portrays Jesus. One
common view is that, because God is transcendent and uncreated, it
amounts to blasphemy to represent Him in the form of any created thing.
This can certainly be inferred from the biblical text (ref. esp. 20:4), but
there is a more profound reason for His forbidding images.
The issue isn’t the formation or viewing of a religious image or even the
expression of the Creator in the form of a created thing (which is precisely
what occurred in the incarnation). The matter of concern is the purpose –
unconscious or otherwise – that lies behind such representations. Men
form likenesses of divine entities in order to invoke and manipulate them –
make them present, accessible, and amenable. This is true of all religion,
regardless of the particular rituals and symbols associated with them.
Thus the second commandment is effectively God’s prohibition
against the continuation among His people of natural human religious
conceptions and practice.
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Geerhardus Vos well summarized this episode and its significance:
“We must set aside this whole modern way of thinking about the matter [that is,
the notion that the wrongfulness of images resides merely in the use of tangible
objects to represent deity], and endeavour to reproduce for ourselves the feelings
with which the ancient idolatrous mind regarded and employed the image it
possessed of its god…While not easily described in its true inwardness, we may
perhaps define it by subsumption under the category of magic. Magic is that
paganistic reversal of the process of religion, in which man, instead of letting
himself be used by God for the divine purpose, drags down his god to the level of
a tool, which he uses for his own selfish purpose…Because it lacks the element of
objective divine self-communication from above, it must needs create for itself
material means of compulsion that will bring the deity to do its bidding.”
(Biblical Theology)
Yahweh is the true Creator God and not an imagined pseudo-god. He is therefore
to be worshipped and served as such rather than treated like the false gods
invented by men within the framework of their self-obsessed estrangement –
deities conceived in the human mind and made accessible for the purpose of
manipulation and exploitation.
Israel’s action at the foot of Sinai signified its retreat back to the natural human
practice of magic. They were camped in the middle of the Sinai wilderness and
couldn’t survive without God’s supernatural care and provision. Moreover, they
needed Him to lead them forward into Canaan. But Moses was their point of
contact and interaction with God and it seemed increasingly clear that he wasn’t
coming back. Therefore, they needed an alternative way to make Yahweh present
and responsive to their situation. If they could “materialize” Him in the form of an
image, they could, through ritual manipulation of this representative symbol,
invoke His continued care and leadership.
b.
Ironically, even while God was assigning Aaron to minister as His priest on
behalf of His covenant son, Aaron was himself being petitioned by the people to
assume the priestly role, but as Israel’s false priest – as the minister of their
idolatry. Before he ever knew of his holy calling Aaron had already defiled it by
serving as Israel’s priest rather than Yahweh’s. Yielding to their pleas, Aaron
collected their gold jewelry and cast for them a golden calf. Then, to facilitate
their appeal to Yahweh through this image, he constructed an altar before it and
proclaimed the following day a feast to the Lord (32:2-6).
c.
God’s response to the nation’s idolatry was to inform Moses of what was
transpiring and order him back down the mountain with the two stone tablets
containing the Ten Words. Israel had violated the covenant and their oath
regarding it, and the Lord declared His just intention to destroy the nation and
raise up a new people through Moses himself (32:7-11).
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d.
1)
On the one hand, this declaration demonstrated God’s unaltered
commitment to His covenant with Abraham: Despite Israel’s sin, He
would keep His promise to make Abraham a great nation, but He would
do so through Moses alone. The line of covenant descent would still be
traced through Abraham, but only through Jacob’s one son Levi.
2)
This narrowing of the covenant to Moses, however, would have a huge
impact on the outworking of the Abrahamic Covenant in that it would
effectively negate all that had transpired from Jacob forward. Forming a
new nation through Moses would eliminate the twelve tribes of Israel as
Abraham’s seed and make Moses a new Jacob – a new Israel as patriarch
of the replacement covenant nation.
Given what God’s announcement entailed, Moses’ reaction to it is remarkable.
1)
Here God was affording him the incredible privilege of becoming the
fountainhead of a new covenant people. He would assume the enviable
place of the patriarch Israel and see God’s promise to Abraham realized
through himself. Beyond that, the sons of Israel had willfully and
egregiously violated the covenant and they fully deserved to be destroyed.
2)
But Moses, keenly aware of his role as Israel’s mediator, responded to the
Lord’s pronouncement by fervently imploring Him to turn away from this
course of action (vv. 11). At the same time, it is important to note that it
was not the destruction of the sons of Israel as such that caused his angst;
Yahweh was the sole object of his concern. He called upon God to
reconsider on the basis of how this decision would impact His own
integrity and credibility among men (vv. 12-13).
In sharp contrast to his brother Aaron – whose mediation for Israel amounted to a
self-serving deference born out of a natural frame of mind, Moses interceded for
the people as a true mediator: one whose mindset was determined by a jealousy
for God and an understanding of the larger role and significance of the covenant.
e.
-
In the person of Moses the Scripture reveals what sort of man is suited to
stand before God and intercede on behalf of a sinful people.
-
And given that Moses’ typological function in salvation history focuses on
his role as covenant mediator and intercessor, this revelation is profoundly
important (cf. again 20:18-21 with Deuteronomy 18:13-19).
The result of Moses’ pleading was that the Lord relented and agreed to turn from
His declared intention to destroy the covenant nation (32:14). The NAS renders
this verb as Yahweh “changing His mind,” and the Bible’s assignment of such an
action to God has been a source of much doctrinal and practical controversy
regarding the matter of divine sovereignty.
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1)
First of all, this passage and others like it are used to biblically support the
common notion that “prayer changes things.” The underlying idea is that
people have a say in God’s decisions and actions, whether in the extreme
sense that outcomes are ultimately determined by the fervency of “prayer
warriors,” or in the more benign sense that prayer exerts a very real
influence on God’s thinking and the way He responds in a given situation.
2)
For obvious reasons, such contexts are also paraded by Arminian
Christians who reject the concept of absolute predestination in God’s
interactions with His creation, as well as by open theists who deny that the
future is in any sense predetermined.
3)
On the other hand, recognizing the apparent implications to their doctrine
of divine sovereignty, many Calvinists feel compelled to try to show that
God’s “changing His mind” means nothing of the sort, but is merely an
anthropomorphic expression that accommodates human limitations.
But despite the diversity of their perspectives and concerns, such apologists tend
to fall prey to the same fundamental error: failing to listen to the text itself and
attempting instead to use it to vindicate a set of preexisting doctrinal beliefs.
Coming to the text with predetermined answers, the reader is naturally (and
unconsciously) inclined to ask questions of it that lead back to those answers.
But keeping this passage within the larger biblical storyline makes it readily
evident that it isn’t a proof-text for divine sovereignty or the theology of prayer; it
is concerned with answering the question of how God’s covenant relationship
with Abraham’s offspring will be preserved in the context of their unfaithfulness
to the covenant. And proceeding upon that contextual foundation, it interacts
with the more comprehensive principle of sacred space as mediated distance.
Richard Lints’ observations are helpful:
“The meaning of a text like Exodus 32 is intimately wrapped up with the epochal
significance of Moses as a mediator of the covenant and the canonical
significance of his action as a foreshadowing of Christ, the final mediator of the
covenant with God’s people. The epochal and canonical horizons [reflecting
where a text is situated within salvation history and the terminus of salvation
history in Christ] help to determine which questions are important to the passage
and which are not. Failure to pay attention to the epochal and canonical horizons
might lead the modern reader into the mistake of reading the passage too
narrowly – for instance, focusing on the question of whether prayer can change
God’s mind. This is not the fundamental question of the text. The question that the
epochal and the canonical horizon want to ask of the passage is who might be an
acceptable mediator between God (who is faithful) and the Israelites (who are
unfaithful). This is the thread that links this particular passage to the rest of the
Scriptures, and we must not lose sight of that as we attempt to build a biblical
theological framework. (The Fabric of Theology, emphasis author’s)
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f.
At the Lord’s direction Moses descended Mount Sinai with the stone tablets in
hand. When he saw the spectacle at the foot of the mountain, Moses threw the
tablets into the midst of the revelers and shattered them before their eyes. And
taking the calf, burning it and grinding it to powder, he mixed it with water and
made the sons of Israel drink it. They had shattered the covenant and they would
now own their transgression. Then Moses turned his attention to Aaron, who
sought to excuse himself first at the people’s expense, and then by attempting to
distance himself from the actual fabrication of the image (32:21-24).
The purpose of the covenant had been to formalize Yahweh’s relationship with
Israel, His chosen son, and He had appointed Aaron as His priest to mediate His
presence with His people. But now both covenant son and mediating priest had
despised the covenant and rebelled against Him. Per Moses’ petition, Yahweh
would uphold His covenant and spare Israel as His “son,” but the nation needed to
be purged of its uncleanness before it could go forward with Him.
g.
1)
Toward that end, Moses issued a call to the people for all those who were
devoted to Yahweh to come over to him. In an action that anticipated their
new role as consecrated intermediaries between God and Israel (ref.
Numbers 1:47-53, 3:6-13, 40-45), the Levites joined Moses at his side.
2)
The sons of Levi had expressed their devotion to Yahweh by joining
themselves to Moses, and now the Lord required that they demonstrate the
authenticity and absoluteness of their consecration by standing with Him
against His enemies. They were to take up swords and go through the
camp of Israel, slaying their rebellious kinsmen – men, women, and
children – on Yahweh’s behalf. Moreover, that act of devotion was to be a
sign and turning point for the nation going forward (vv. 25-29).
As a deserved punishment, this great slaughter had honored divine justice, but it
had not brought about atonement for Israel. This is evident from Moses’ response
on the following day (vv. 30-35). Even while the ground was stained with the
blood of the house of Israel, Moses returned to the Lord’s presence in order to
attempt to make atonement for them and their covenant violation. This episode of
interaction between Yahweh and His mediator is one of the most profound and
revealing in the whole of the Israelite narrative.
1)
The first thing to note about this episode is that it explicitly links
atonement with Moses’ work of mediation. God had previously disclosed
to him the concept of atonement through a substitutionary sin offering
(29:10-33; cf. Leviticus 8:14-34), but here Moses was seeking to make
atonement through his intercession alone. Most importantly, he was doing
so by joining himself to his people in their sin. If the Lord was to cast
away Israel, blotting it out of His book (that is, the census book listing
Yahweh’s covenant people; cf. 30:11-12; Psalm 69:28; Isaiah 4:3; Ezekiel
13:9), then Moses pleaded that his name, too, be erased from it.
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2)
3)
But the Lord was resolute: He responded to Moses’ plea by affirming that
those who had sinned against Him would indeed be punished and their
names blotted out of His book (vv. 33-34). Moses could neither atone for
their guilt by his intercession nor share in their punishment. This outcome
makes a crucial contribution to the biblical storyline’s developing
revelation of redemption and it must not be missed.
-
Throughout the Old Testament text, God advanced His
foundational promise of restoration by portraying with increasing
scope and depth the person and work of Christ. He did so by means
of an ever-widening series of typological entities, each of which
acted in itself to enlarge God’s existing revelation of His future
redemption while also emphatically pointing forward to it. Each
typological entity exemplified a Christological reality, but it also
fell short of it. Being shadows, types indicate their corresponding
substance, but they themselves are not that substance.
-
So it was with Moses. As a type of Christ, Moses epitomized the
emerging principle of covenant mediation between God and sinful
men, and in that regard his seeking atonement for his people is
significant in the progress of biblical revelation. But the fact that
he was unable to atone for Israel’s sin highlights the fact that that
work awaited another man whom Moses only portrayed and
prefigured – another prophet like Moses who would serve as an
effectual mediator and source of atonement for God’s people (cf.
again Deuteronomy 18:14-19; John 5:45-47; Hebrews 3:1-11).
Moses’ inability to make atonement for the sons of Israel is further
reflected in God’s withdrawal of His presence from them (note also
Yahweh’s repeated reference to Israel as “your people” and “the people”
rather than “My people”). He would uphold His promise to bring Israel
through the wilderness and give them the land of Canaan, but He Himself
would no longer lead them; that task was to be assigned to one of His
angels (32:34-33:3). Covenant communion – expressed only days earlier
by the intimate fellowship meal on Yahweh’s sanctuary-mountain – had
been fractured, and the relationship between Father and son was now
characterized by estrangement (33:4-6). The tragic irony of the golden calf
episode is that the very action Israel had intended to secure God’s abiding
presence and favor had instead resulted in distance, alienation, and wrath.
The text pointedly highlights this new condition of covenant estrangement
by means of the narrative parenthesis of 33:7-11. As a graphic testimony
to the people, Moses took a tent and pitched it outside the Israelite
encampment. There, until the completion and consecration of the
tabernacle and the ordination of Aaron and his sons, he would meet with
Yahweh while the people watched at a distance.
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Anyone desiring to interact with the Lord had to leave the camp and go
out to Him. God had not utterly forsaken His chosen son, but Israel’s
innocence under the covenant was gone and its relationship with Him
forever altered. Already the nation had failed to meet its covenant
obligation to be Israel; Abraham’s seed could not fulfill its high calling.
h.
Moses had been unable to atone for Israel’s violation of the covenant, and God
had declared to him His intention to not lead them to Canaan lest He destroy them
by His presence among them. Instead, He would provide guidance and oversight
for the nation through one of His angels. That declaration provided the occasion
for Moses’ next intercessory episode (33:12-34:9).
Yahweh had told Moses to continue on toward Canaan with Israel (32:34), and
Moses’ response was that he was unwilling and unable to do so by himself. If the
Lord was determined not to go with His people, then He should not send them at
all. Moses pleaded with Him that, as he had found favor in His sight to that point,
he needed Him to continue with him if he were to go forward with the people. It
wasn’t that Moses was questioning the ability of an angel to lead Israel; he needed
to be certain that Yahweh remained committed to His people, and only His
continued presence with them would establish that beyond all doubt (vv. 13-16).
Once again Moses’ mediation prevailed and the Lord agreed to go with Israel
when the time came for them to depart from His holy mountain (33:17; cf. v. 14).
He would not lead them indirectly by one of His angels, but directly by the angel
of His presence (cf. 23:20-23 with 14:19 and Numbers 20:14-16).
Moses’ reaction to Yahweh’s oath was to cry out to Him to show him His glory
(33:18). This spontaneous appeal was likely a doxology as much as a plea. Moses
had been on an emotional rollercoaster: He had exulted with the elders of Israel in
Yahweh’s presence and then received the glorious prescription for a sanctuary
and priesthood. Everything was in place for the Lord to dwell in the midst of His
people in blessed covenant fellowship, but in a moment exaltation was replaced
by shock and dismay. Yahweh’s indignation against Israel was fully warranted
and the nation deserved to be destroyed. Nevertheless, He twice relented, turning
first from His intention to annihilate and then from His decision to abandon His
covenant son. Contemplation of such a God – One in whom holiness, justice,
faithfulness and mercy converged in infinite perfection – left Moses overwhelmed
and he could only respond by asking for a greater glimpse of the divine glory.
For the third time the Lord granted Moses’ petition (vv. 19-23); He would show
him His glory, and this event arguably constituted Yahweh’s most significant selfrevelation during the Israelite theocracy. The reason is that this theophany was set
in the context of the covenant’s reinstatement. God’s revelation of His goodness
provided the explanation for His continuance with Israel. Consenting to Moses’
request, the Lord directed him to make two new tablets and then ascend Mount
Sinai so that He could again write on them the words of the covenant (34:1-4).
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When Moses entered Yahweh’s presence with the new tablets, the Lord fulfilled
His promise and caused His glory to pass in front of him. Notably, Moses had
asked to see Yahweh’s glory, and in granting his request God had told him he
would behold His goodness (ref. again 33:18-19) – goodness to be revealed not by
visual manifestation but by proclamation (vv. 6-7).
Moses longed to gaze upon the divine glory, and the way God answered his
petition made him realize that he had already seen it numerous times in the Lord’s
dealings with His covenant son. For all its unbelief and disobedience, Yahweh
had been good to Israel; He would surely fulfill His oath to Abraham – not
because of the worthiness or integrity of his offspring, but because of His own
faithfulness, for the sake of His own glory. In the goodness of His enduring
faithfulness toward His chosen people, the Lord would not overlook sin but would
supply a provision for it. In all things He would show Himself to be both just and
the One who justifies the unrighteous. Moses understood the significance of what
was transpiring before him, and responded with a confident plea that Yahweh
would indeed continue His pattern of goodness toward His covenant son, thereby
showing Himself glorious in Israel and before the nations of the earth (34:9).
i.
Standing upon the foundation of His self-revealing proclamation, the Lord
explicitly declared to Moses His intention to renew His covenant with Israel. By
restating key facets of the covenant He left no doubt that He wasn’t entering into
an entirely new covenant, but simply restoring the broken one (vv. 10-26; cf.
20:3-5, 23:12-33). After another forty days in the Lord’s presence, Moses again
descended Sinai with stone tablets containing the Ten Words of the covenant, this
time written by his own hand at the Lord’s direction (cf. 31:18 with 34:1, 27-28).
The most striking difference in this second episode is the strange phenomenon of
the divine glory shining in Moses’ face (34:29-35). Scholars have explained it in
various ways, but the surrounding context connects this phenomenon with the
preceding episode of the golden calf and its tragic implications for Israel.
1)
First, Moses’ actions in relation to his radiant face indicted Israel as an
unfaithful and obstinate son (ref. 32:9, 33:3-5). They provided a metaphor
for the fact that, though God would speak openly to Israel, His words
would be lost upon them; no sooner would they hear from Him than the
glory of His words would be obscured by their veiled hearts.
2)
But from the larger perspective, Israel had thought Yahweh’s presence and
provision could be mediated through a calf-image, and by this startling
manifestation He was showing them that the only “image” able to
accomplish that end is man. Not a calf, but the image-son is suited to bear
the manifest glory of the divine. In this, too, Moses anticipated the One
who was to come (John 1:1-14). But beyond that, he foreshadowed human
destiny in the Last Adam: man, the image-son, made God’s consummate
dwelling place in the Spirit (1 Corinthians 15:20ff; 2 Corinthians 3:1-4:6).
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7.
Israel’s Legacy of Unfaithfulness
Yahweh had determined to renew His covenant with Israel – not because of their national
repentance or commitment to reformation, but by virtue of His own goodness for the sake
of upholding His promise to Abraham and His testimony in the world. God would
continue forward in His relationship with Abraham’s descendents because of His larger
purpose in salvation history and Israel’s role in that purpose.
The immediate goal of the covenant was Israel’s inheritance of the land of Canaan. The
possession of Canaan was central to the Abrahamic Covenant, and so a necessary
outcome of Yahweh’s covenant with Israel at Sinai. The reason is that the Sinai Covenant
formally initiated the realization of what God had promised to Abraham regarding his
descendents and legacy. It served to administer at the first (typological) level the
fulfillment of the Abrahamic Covenant with its core promises of land, seed, and blessing.
This understanding lay at the heart of Moses’ unwillingness to proceed from Sinai
without the Lord’s presence with His people. The covenant had established Israel as
Yahweh’s son, and the destiny of the son was to dwell with his Father in His sanctuaryland. In what sense, then, could the covenant be continued in God’s absence? Mere
residence in Canaan wouldn’t fulfill the promise; Israel’s inheritance was Yahweh
Himself – dwelling with Him in the place of His habitation (ref. again Exodus 15:17). If
He refused to go with Israel, nothing else pertaining to the covenant had any meaning.
Moses pled these truths to the Lord – he appealed to Yahweh according to His own mind
and purpose, and so prevailed with Him. God would continue in covenant with His son
and lead him to His sanctuary-land. Thus the balance of Exodus records the construction
of the sanctuary and the preparations for the ordination of Aaron and his sons. When the
tabernacle was completed and the ark of Yahweh’s throne installed in the Holy of Holies,
the glory-cloud of His presence descended upon the sanctuary and took up residence
between the wings of the cherubim over the mercy seat (40:20-35). Israel had journeyed
from Egypt to Sinai to be joined to its covenant Father, and the tabernacle and priesthood
were necessary to facilitate and mediate the relationship between Father and son (thus
God provided the prescription for the Levitical system while Israel was still camped at
Sinai). With the sanctuary and priesthood in place, Yahweh revealed Himself as formally
present in the midst of His people; they were now ready to depart for Canaan. All that
remained was for Him to instruct Israel in the logistical matters pertaining to its
movement through the wilderness (Numbers 1-10:10).
But despite the recovery of the covenant and Yahweh’s determination to continue with
Israel, the text leaves no doubt that the relationship between Father and son had been
forever altered. The joyous fellowship meal celebrating the covenant was becoming a
fading memory eclipsed by the stark reality of Moses’ veiled face. Israel’s transgression
showed that it couldn’t perceive the glory of the covenant – either as it related to the
nation’s calling as Abraham’s seed or as it contributed to God’s outworking of His primal
oath in Eden. By its faithless act Israel had exposed its inability to recognize its own
identity and role; it had demonstrated its inability to be Israel.
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And so, while Israel set out from Sinai with the glory-cloud of Yahweh’s presence going
before it (Numbers 10:11-29), the exultant expectation of the promised land was
overshadowed by the ever-present cloud of unbelief. There seemed little doubt that the
apostasy of Sinai would continue, and this is exactly what the record of Israel’s journeys
reveals. No sooner does the text record Moses triumphal prayer of conquest and covenant
realization than it turns to the unbelief of the covenant son (Numbers 10:33-11:1). This
sets the stage for the balance of the book of Numbers (Hebrew name BeMidbar – “in the
wilderness”), which recounts an unbroken chain of disbelief and defiance on the part of
Yahweh’s “son,” – implicating Moses and Aaron as well as the people – juxtaposed with
His own enduring faithfulness to His covenant.
a.
As the people departed from Sinai, the Lord led them first to the wilderness of
Paran. Israel’s presence there would prove fateful as the episode of the twelve
spies marked the turning point for the nation. From Kadesh Moses dispatched
representatives from the twelve tribes to spy out the land of Canaan and bring
back a report (Numbers 13:1-20). The context indicates that God’s intention in
this investigation was two-fold: First, it would encourage the people and
strengthen their resolve when the spies saw with their own eyes that this was
indeed a good land, flowing with milk and honey – a land that was just as the
Lord had told them where they would find all blessing in His presence. But it also
was to be a test of Israel’s faith: This region that Yahweh had pledged to them
(ref. 13:2) was filled with strong nations and fortified cities; discovering that,
would the nation trust their natural sensibilities or their God?
When the spies returned they brought with them a huge cluster of grapes
suspended on the shoulders of two men. But they also reported what they had
observed concerning the inhabitants of the land. At this word the hearts of the
sons of Israel melted and, notwithstanding the exhortations of Joshua and Caleb,
they conspired together to appoint a new leader and return to Egypt (14:1-5). In
spite of all they had experienced – including the Lord’s faithfulness in renewing
the covenant and His continued promise to give them the land – Israel lamented
that Yahweh was bringing them into Canaan only to perish with their wives and
children at the hands of its powerful inhabitants.
The Lord’s response was to consign that entire disbelieving generation to die
outside the land while the children they claimed to fear for would go in and
inherit the blessing they had renounced by their unbelief.
-
Once again He spoke of dispossessing Israel and making a great nation
from Moses, and again Moses interceded for the people by appealing to
the covenant and Yahweh’s faithfulness to it (14:11-19).
-
And as before, the Lord turned from His stated intention to utterly forsake
Israel while remaining resolute in His determination to punish the rebels
among them. With the exception of Joshua and Caleb, the entire adult
generation would die in the wilderness (14:20-38; cf. Hebrews 3:1-19).
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The people mourned when Moses reported God’s decision to them, but amazingly
responded in unbelief again by attempting what they had just previously refused
to do. Despite God’s continual assurance of their success in taking the land, the
sons of Israel had the day before sought to return to Egypt, convinced they would
perish if they entered Canaan. Now, with His oath that they would die in the
wilderness, they rallied themselves for an assault on the land (14:39-45). Whether
in blessing or cursing, the son was turned against his Father so that he would not
listen or obey; as it was on Moses’ face, the veil remained over their hearts.
The wilderness of Paran represented the turning point for Israel. What had been
the promise of immediate inheritance of Canaan became a forty-year period of
punishment and winnowing; Israel wouldn’t enter Yahweh’s sanctuary-land until
all those who had disbelieved and despised Him were purged from the nation.
b.
Deuteronomy records the last days of Israel’s wilderness sojourn before crossing
into Canaan. The nation was camped on the plains of Moab just east of the Jordan
River; after forty years of wandering and death the covenant son was finally
poised to enter into its promised inheritance. Deuteronomy consists of a series of
sermons delivered by Moses as his final words to the nation he had led for four
decades. Together they recounted to Israel its history under the covenant for the
purpose of informing and directing its future conduct in the land. Moses’ final
task as Israel’s prophet and mediator was to remind them of where they had been
and what they had endured over the previous forty years. The sons of Israel were
to consider those realities in the light of who they were as Abraham’s
descendents, where they were going, and the profound import of their calling and
inheritance. Deuteronomy’s primary role in the development of the biblical
storyline is to conjoin and make coherent the relationship and covenantal
significance of the four great features of Israel’s existence: the Exodus, the
wilderness period, the impending Canaanite theocracy, and the later monarchy.
As Moses’ sermons in Deuteronomy focus on the matter of remembrance, so the
heart of their collective exhortation is a repeated warning against future
forgetfulness. Israel was to recall and accurately perceive its past in order to
properly enter into and execute its future with Yahweh in His sanctuary land.
Israel’s future well-being under the covenant depended on its self-understanding
and faithfulness to its identity and calling.
c.
Deuteronomy finds Israel standing at the threshold of its inheritance, while the
book of Joshua records the period of Canaan’s conquest and settlement. It’s a
book of triumph and exultation, but it also continues the pessimistic and
foreboding tone that runs through all of Israel’s history. Thus Joshua’s final
exhortations to Israel closely paralleled Moses’: Like his predecessor, Joshua
reminded the people of Yahweh’s great acts of faithfulness as their covenant
Father-God and he called them to commit themselves fully to Him. As Moses
before him, Joshua exhorted them to live into their sonship while warning them
that wrath lay ahead (cf. Joshua 23:1-24:27 with Deuteronomy 29:1-31:21).
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d.
The triumph of Israel’s inheritance of Canaan and its restated commitment to
covenant fidelity were immediately followed by a prolonged period of decline.
This tragic period, recorded in the book of Judges, continued up until the
emergence of the monarchy in Israel and the Scripture characterizes it as a time in
which “every man did what was right in his own eyes” (17:6, 21:25). There was
no human king in Israel, but more importantly, Yahweh Himself was not regarded
as King by His subjects. Rather than realizing the kingdom promised to Abraham,
the Israelite kingdom was one in which every man was his own king.
The book substantiates and develops this thematic proclamation along several
lines, all of which are framed by the general cyclical pattern of rest, complacency,
rebellion, subjugation, repentance, deliverance and restoration. These cycles
replicated the pattern initiated at Sinai, thereby showing that Israel’s fundamental
estrangement had not been remediated either by the renewed covenant or its
inheritance of Canaan. Though physically present in Yahweh’s sanctuary-land,
the relationship between Father and son remained distant and dysfunctional.
Again, the text demonstrates this by tracing out various aspects of Israel’s decline.
The first is the progressive isolation and disunity of the twelve tribes. The nation
was collectively Yahweh’s “son,” so that fidelity to the covenant implied
solidarity and harmony among Israel’s tribes. Israel’s calling was to be a priestly
kingdom (ref. Exodus 19:3-6), and a kingdom divided against itself can neither
thrive nor endure. The nation’s increasing fragmentation finally culminated in
intertribal warfare (19:1-20:48) – a phenomenon that would later be repeated in
national conflicts between the two Israelite sub-kingdoms of Judah and Israel.
The second evidence of estrangement was Israel’s increasing interaction with the
nations around them (ref. 3:5-7). Despite Yahweh’s stern warnings through Moses
and Joshua, His people compromised their devotion to Him by joining themselves
to Canaan’s residents and gods. In this way Israel effectively converted its
communion with its Father in His holy habitation into life within an idol temple.
In turn, this independent, idolatrous spirit found expression in Israel’s worship of
God and practical morality (3:7, 6:25-30, 8:27, 33). Before long Yahweh’s son
became indistinguishable from the world around it, its estrangement from Him
bearing all the fruit characteristic of fallen humanity. They embraced self-serving
idolatrous practices (17:1-18:31) and gave themselves over to their basest desires
(19:1-30). Dwelling in Yahweh’s sanctuary-land, the covenant son had become
Sodom (cf. Isaiah 1:9-15, 3:8-9; Jeremiah 23:9-14; etc.), openly despising its
Abrahamic mandate to mediate the knowledge of God to the world of men.
Thus the period of the Judges saw the fulfillment of the very things Moses and
Joshua had warned Israel about; though taken by Yahweh to be His son by
covenant, Israel yet bore the likeness of fallen Adam. And bearing Adam’s
likeness, Israel could not fulfill its calling as the “son of God.” As such, the
Israelite theocracy could not fulfill the promise of the recovery of sacred space.
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e.
The broad decline of Israel in the centuries following the conquest of Canaan was
also reflected in the circumstances surrounding the tabernacle. During the time of
Joshua’s leadership, when the land was being divided, the tabernacle was installed
at Shiloh near Bethel in the region of Ephraim. The name Shiloh is derived from
the verb shalah, “to be at ease,” suggesting both Israel’s goal of secure,
prosperous rest in the land and Yahweh’s settled presence among His people. The
tabernacle remained at Shiloh through the period of the Judges prior to the
monarchy (cf. Joshua 18:1-8; Judges 18:31; 1 Samuel 1:1-3; Psalm 78:54-60),
later being moved to Nob, probably during Saul’s reign (ref. 1 Samuel 21-22).
The deepening apostasy within Israelite society following Joshua’s death found a
counterpart in the priesthood and the ministry of Yahweh’s sanctuary at Shiloh.
The text highlights this by its consideration of the priestly ministration of Eli and
his two sons. Their ministry occurred near of the end of the time of the Judges
(circa 1100 B.C.) when Samuel appeared as Israel’s last judge and the point of
transition into the monarchy.
1)
These events are recorded in the beginning chapters of the book of First
Samuel. The text portrays Eli’s sons as vile, callous and brazen men – men
who violated women at the entrance to the tabernacle and made a mockery
of Yahweh’s sacrifices, turning them into opportunities for extortion and
abuse (ref. 1 Samuel 2:12-17). Though serving as His priests, they were
devoid of all knowledge and fear of the Lord. For his part, Eli knew of his
sons’ blasphemous attitudes and actions and essentially looked the other
way. Though the narrative has him rebuking them at one point (2:22-25),
it emphasizes his unwillingness to hold them accountable. Eli feared his
sons more than God (ref. 2:27-29, 3:10-13).
This circumstance and the Lord’s reaction to it provided the occasion for
Samuel’s emergence as God’s preeminent prophet at that time. Having
been devoted to Yahweh by his mother, Samuel grew up under Eli’s care
serving God in His sanctuary. One night, as he was falling asleep, the Lord
spoke to Samuel and reaffirmed to him the word of judgment He had
previously revealed to Eli through another of His prophets (3:1-14; cf.
2:27-36). Eli and his sons had made a mockery of their priestly service and
now Yahweh was going to judge them and their descendents.
-
All three men would soon die – Hophni and Phinehas on the same
day – as a sign of judgment upon Eli’s house: From that time
forward none of his male descendents would reach old age.
-
And yet, in a fitting irony, Eli’s house would continue to serve in
the priesthood, but only for the sake of punishment. Beginning
with Eli himself, his family’s priestly service was to be a matter of
overwhelming pain and sorrow as they would be compelled to
watch Yahweh bring distress to His dwelling place.
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At the same time, the curse upon Eli’s house wasn’t the Lord’s final word:
He was going to raise up for Himself a faithful priest who would act with
integrity on His behalf. Eli’s house was to be made desolate in
humiliation, but the household of this priest would endure in faithfulness
before Yahweh forever (2:35).
2)
-
Though many regard Samuel as the first referent of this promise, it
is most explicitly associated with Zadok – a descendent of Aaron
through Eleazar (Eli was a descendent of Ithamar) – and his
appointment over Abiathar (of Eli’s household) to serve as chief
priest in Solomon’s temple (1 Kings 2:26-35). Zadok’s house
continued to hold the high priesthood up until the destruction of
the temple and the exile of Judah (2 Chronicles 31:10).
-
But God’s promise looked ultimately to a priest not associated with
Aaron, but with Melchizedek. Jesus would come as the
quintessential faithful priest performing all that was in Yahweh’s
heart and soul. Through Him, in turn, Yahweh would raise up an
everlasting line of faithful priests walking before His anointed
forever (cf. Jeremiah 33:14-22 with 1 Peter 2:1-10 and Revelation
5:1-10, 20:6; also Ezekiel 40:1-44:16 (esp. 40:45-47, 43:18-19, and
44:9-16) and 47:1-12 with Revelation 22:1-2).
The initial fulfillment of the Lord’s woeful pronouncement came in the
context of a particular battle between Israel and their Philistine
adversaries. When the armies of Philistia appeared to prevail, the elders of
Israel sent messengers to Shiloh with the appeal that the ark of the
covenant be brought onto the battlefield. When the ark arrived, the whole
camp of Israel let out a resounding shout of triumph, believing Yahweh’s
presence with them meant that their victory was assured (4:1-5).
Instead, the unimaginable happened: Israel was routed in battle, Yahweh’s
priests Hophni and Phinehas were cut down and the ark of the covenant
was taken captive by the Philistines. When a messenger from the
battlefield returned to Shiloh with the news, Eli fell over backward in his
chair, broke his neck and died (4:10-18).
The Lord’s promised affliction of His dwelling had begun, and the
significance of it was declared to Israel by the name Phinehas’ wife gave
to her newborn son. When she learned of the loss of her husband and
father-in-law and the capture of the ark, she immediately went into labor.
And though her attendants sought to encourage her with the news of a
male child, she would not be comforted. She understood the meaning of
the tragic report brought to her: The glory had departed from Israel; thus
her son would carry the name Ichabod – “no glory” (4:19-22).
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The departure of Yahweh’s glory signified the departure of Yahweh
Himself. For, from the day the tabernacle was consecrated at Sinai, God
had manifested His presence by His glory-cloud – His Shekinah – residing
between the wings of the cherubim in the Holy of Holies (cf. Exodus
25:17-22, 40:33-35; Leviticus 16:2). The ark of the covenant was the ark
of His presence; the capture of the ark meant Yahweh had gone into exile.
But since God’s dwelling was inside the veil, it wasn’t the ark’s capture
that initiated the condition of “ichabod”; it was its removal from the
sanctuary. In effect, the glory began to depart from Israel the moment the
priests carried the ark from its appointed place, repeating the sin of the
golden calf by seeking to manipulate Yahweh into granting victory. What
transpired on the battlefield only made obvious the Lord’s departure.
God had promised desolation and degradation to Eli’s house and distress upon His
own dwelling, and the priestly ministration provided the point of connection
between those parallel judgments. The priesthood at Shiloh was devastated by the
deaths of Eli and his sons, but this tragic circumstance only punctuated the
frightening fact that the glory had departed from Israel. For the moment, there
was no one to minister before the Lord in His sanctuary, but the truth was that it
didn’t matter. The tabernacle was now nothing more than a religious shrine: Israel
had removed the ark of Yahweh’s presence from His sanctuary, and He testified
to His departure from His sanctuary-land by delivering the ark to the Philistines.
The judgment that began with Eli and his sons would continue in some form
through the final destruction of the theocratic kingdom in 586 B.C. Thus the
return of the exiled ark from Philistia wouldn’t put an end to the estrangement that
its departure signified. The tabernacle would later be moved to Nob, but without
the ark; the sentence of ichabod remained. Later, the affliction of the sanctuary
was heightened by Saul’s hand as he slaughtered Yahweh’s priests and every
living thing in Nob in an act of paranoid rage (ref. 21:1-22:19). Truly the house of
Eli was living to see the distress of Yahweh’s dwelling.
3)
Following its capture, the ark remained in Philistine hands for seven
months, during which time it was moved from city to city as the Lord
punished those who possessed it. He struck the Philistines with tumors and
other afflictions, putting His hand heavily upon them until they decided to
return the ark to Israel (5:1-12). On the counsel of their diviners, the
Philistines sent it toward Beth-shemesh on a new cart and included a box
containing five gold tumors (images of boils) and gold mice as a guilt
offering on behalf of the five Philistine princes and their cities (6:1-12).
4)
As the people of Beth-shemesh saw the ark approaching, they exulted
greatly and offered multiple sacrifices to the Lord. But when some dared
to gaze into the ark, God struck the city with a great smiting and the ark
was immediately sent to Kiriath-jearim (6:13-21).
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5)
The text gives no reason for the decision to move the ark to Kiriath-jearim,
but historical data indicates that this place was an ancient sacred site. This,
together with its proximity to Beth-shemesh, perhaps made it an appealing
destination under the circumstances. Whatever the actual reason, the
Scripture notes that the citizens of Kiriath-jearim were happy to take
possession of the ark and they subsequently selected the house of a man
named Abinadab to be its resting place (7:1-2).
The most astonishing thing about this episode is that the ark was not
returned to Shiloh and the tabernacle. Again the text is silent as to the
reason; what the narrative is concerned to communicate is that the ark
remained estranged from its appointed place in the Holy of Holies.
“Ichabod” continued though the ark again resided within Israel’s borders.
And so it would be for the next twenty years until the rise of King David and his
conquest of Jerusalem. Even when the tabernacle was relocated to Nob from
Shiloh, the ark remained in the house of Abinadab at Kiriath-jearim. Samuel, the
last of Israel’s judges, would not reunite ark and sanctuary and neither would
Israel’s first king. To the contrary, Saul acted to further fulfill Yahweh’s promise
to distress His dwelling place in the sight of Eli’s house.
The profound significance of this circumstance (as well as its remediation by
David) is easily missed unless it is viewed from the perspective of the
tabernacle’s function in relation to the covenant.
-
The covenant at Sinai defined and established the formal relationship
between God and Israel as Father and son.
-
The intimacy implied by this relationship was to be expressed by
Yahweh’s presence in the midst of His people. Thus, fundamental to the
covenant and its administration was the provision of a sanctuary and
mediating priesthood (ref. again Exodus 25:1-8 and 29:42-46 with 15:17).
-
Yahweh was present with His son in connection with His sanctuary, but
specifically in relation to the Holy of Holies and its sole furnishing. The
ark of the covenant was the ark of Yahweh’s presence. Without the ark, it
didn’t matter if the duly appointed priests continued to perform their
prescribed service within the tabernacle; under that circumstance their
ministry was merely vain religious exercise inside an empty shrine.
Yahweh’s absence from His sanctuary indicated His estrangement from His son
and a perverting of the covenant itself. Israel had relentlessly departed from its
Father since the days at Sinai and now the Father affirmed that estrangement by
His own departure. Nevertheless, Yahweh’s promise to Abraham would stand: He
would bring restoration, but only through Judah’s royal seed; he would reunite the
ark and sanctuary in the place the Lord had determined to put His name.
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8.
The Emergence of the Monarchy
Arguably the most significant component of Israel’s theocratic decline was the nation’s
call for a human king during Samuel’s rule as judge. This development showed more
than any other the nature and extent of Israel’s covenant unfaithfulness to Yahweh and
resulted in the disastrous shift in Israel from a true theocracy to a human monarchy.
-
The way in which the judges functioned made it absolutely clear that Yahweh was
King in Israel. The covenant had established the nation’s unique identity and
relationship with God as son to a Father. Israel was subject to Yahweh alone, and
its human leaders had always served within this framework. William Dumbrell
comments: “The role of the judge… being episodic, non-transferable, and nonpredictable, is antithetical to dynastic kingship” (Covenant and Creation).
-
The sons of Israel well understood that their judges were covenant mediators
(whether acting as spiritual prophets or military deliverers) and not human rulers
in the conventional sense. This is precisely why they asked for a king.
Many scholars have understood Israel’s petition in a positive light, viewing the monarchy
temporally as the best solution to the social and religious anarchy of the post-settlement
period. However, the biblical narrative – not to mention Israel’s theocratic constitution
under the covenant – leaves no doubt that this was a negative development.
a.
The emergence of the monarchy brought the theocracy to its low point: Both
Samuel and God Himself understood that Israel’s call for a king represented its
rejection of Yahweh as King (cf. 1 Samuel 8:6-8, 10:17-19, 12:12-17). This
rebellious attitude toward God’s lordship would later find its pinnacle expression
in Israel’s rejection of the incarnate Lord (John 19:12-15).
b.
Israel’s demand for a human king effectively constituted an act of treason against
the Lord of the covenant, and yet it was entirely according to divine plan:
1)
At the heart of the Abrahamic Covenant was the promise of a royal line of
descent. The name changes associated with Abraham, Sarah, and Jacob all
implicated the prophetic truth that kings would come forth from the
patriarchal root (Genesis 17:5-6, 15-16, 35:9-11). The royal dimension of
the covenant household was later localized in Judah’s line in accordance
with Jacob’s prophetic blessing (49:8-10).
2)
And God Himself indicated the eventual emergence of the monarchy when
He revealed to Moses instruction concerning the sort of man who should
serve as king in Israel (Deuteronomy 17:14-20).
3)
But the greatest proof of divine intent behind the monarchy is that which
the two observations above implicate, namely the ultimate purpose of the
Israelite kingdom in God’s larger program of redemption.
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Like the creational kingdom centered in Eden, the Israelite kingdom was
preparatory and promissory. It portrayed and represented in a typological
way God’s true and ultimate kingdom, but for that very reason was not
that kingdom. The creational kingdom had God exercising His sovereign
rule through man, the image-son, and so it was to be with the Israelite
kingdom. In a sense, Israel’s judges had performed that intermediary
function during the early centuries of the theocracy (ref. again 1 Samuel
8:4-6), but the emergence of a king was a necessary step in the history of
Israel if the Israelite theocracy were to fulfill its typological role.
This is perhaps most evident in the intimate connection the Scripture
makes between David and Jesus Christ. David is the focal point of the
royal aspect of Old Testament messianism, and David’s typological
contribution as king over the covenant household obviously depended
upon the existence of the monarchy. Without a monarchy in Israel there
could be no David, and without such a king or kingdom there could be no
valid typological correspondence between Israel as covenant kingdom and
the true kingdom as realized in Jesus Christ.
In the matter of the monarchy the biblical principle is again highlighted that the
things men do for unbelieving and self-seeking reasons still work in God’s hand
toward the realization of His own larger purposes. Whether at the level of
individuals, nations, or collective humanity, the Lord fulfills His eternal designs,
not apart from, but through the free determinations and operations of men.
Natural circumstances and sinful desires motivated Israel’s request for a king, but
this alteration of the theocracy was a timely and critically important development
in the upward movement of salvation history.
c.
And so Israel’s demand for a king was met with divine approval. Though it
amounted to a treasonous act of unbelief, Yahweh would grant His covenant son
its king. But Israel was also to understand the implications of its demand.
1)
The Lord made sure to communicate to His people His great displeasure
with their request; by seeking a human king they were testifying to their
rejection of His rule over them. And this rejection, in turn, signified their
effective rejection of the covenant itself. For the covenant had established
a kingdom where Yahweh was Father-King, so that any deviation from the
covenant’s prescribed theocratic form constituted an injury to it.
That Israel was effectively rejecting the covenant is evident in the people’s
repeated insistence to Samuel that they wanted to be like the other nations
around them (ref. 1 Samuel 8:4-5, 19-20). Israel’s unique identity and
privileged status as “son of God” were bound up in its distinction from the
other nations of the earth (cf. Deuteronomy 7:6-8, 14:1-2). By desiring to
be like those nations, Israel was despising its privilege and rejecting its
identity. Once again Israel was proving that it would not be Israel.
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2)
But obtaining a human king carried another implication, expressed by God
under the descriptive phrase, the procedure of the king (1 Samuel 8:7-9).
By means of a series of parallel proclamations, Samuel showed that the
procedure of earthly kings is grounded in self-promotion (vv. 10-18).
Royalty involves superior distinction and such distinction conveys
authority and prerogative. And prerogative in the context of the human
condition insures that earthly dominions are always consumptive and
exploitative. Whatever may be the altruistic aspirations and commitments
associated with it, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Implied in Samuel’s affirmation of the procedure of the king – a manner
of ruling that he importantly applies indiscriminately to all human
sovereigns – is the fact that Yahweh is not such a king. Because of who
He is and the nature and scope of His dominion, God is neither selfserving nor consumptive and exploitative. Samuel’s point was that the
benevolent and just lordship Israel had experienced and taken for granted
under Yahweh would be lost under a human king. To reject Yahweh’s rule
was for Israel to put itself under a yoke of utilitarian oppression.
d.
Immediately following Samuel’s declaration to the people of what their future
would be like under a king, the narrative turns to the identification of Saul as the
first of Israel’s monarchs (9:1-12:25).
1)
Saul was a member of the tribe of Benjamin, and the text’s description of
him spotlights its intent to show him eminently suitable to the kingship
based on the human sensibilities of natural wisdom. In addition to having
a striking and commanding physical presence, Saul was a man of valor
and a great warrior in Israel. He was everything people would naturally
seek in a ruler (ref. 9:1-2, cf. also 10:23-24).
Yahweh had revealed to Samuel that He would identify the man He had
chosen to serve as Israel’s king, and the circumstance of Saul’s search for
his father’s stray donkeys provided the occasion for that disclosure. Saul
sought out the seer Samuel to help him locate the lost donkeys; Samuel
used that encounter to reveal to Saul God’s intention for him (9:3-27).
Saul was to be Israel’s king, and Samuel affirmed this choice by anointing
him with oil before sending him back to his father’s house. But Yahweh
also affirmed Saul’s appointment by giving him His Spirit and then openly
testifying to that endowment by causing Saul to prophesy with His
recognized prophets in the sight of the people (10:1-13). God would give
Israel a human king, but that wouldn’t set aside His own sovereign
lordship over His covenant people: As it had been with His judges all the
way back to Moses, Israel’s king was to be the Lord’s undershepherd,
leading His people in His name and for His sake by His Spirit (ref. Psalms
23, 28:9, 95:6-7, 80:1, 100:1-3; cf. also Ezekiel 34:1ff).
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2)
God had promised a royal seed to Abraham in connection with his greatgrandson Judah. The covenant house of Israel would be characterized by a
regal aspect, but prior to this episode with Saul there was no indication of
a particular king or the exact nature of his reign over the theocratic nation.
But now Yahweh revealed that Israel’s corporate “sonship” would find a
corollary in His individual king. This ruler would follow in the steps of the
judges by exercising the Lord’s rule over His people in His name and on
His behalf. In that way the basic nature and structure of the theocracy
would be preserved. But unlike the judges, Israel’s king was to be
endowed with a kind of personal sonship by virtue of his royal status. In
every culture, filial relation is the normative means for communicating
royal standing and authority, and thus ancient rulers were commonly
regarded as sons of a particular national deity. So it was that Yahweh’s
kingship would also now be realized through the rule of His human son.
The concept of Israel’s king as Yahweh’s son becomes explicit with David
and the Davidic Covenant (2 Samuel 7:12ff; 1 Chronicles 22:6-10, 28:1-6;
cf. Psalm 89:18-28), thereby providing a crucial development in messianic
revelation. Moreover, the intimate connection between Father and regal
son is suggested by God’s bestowal of His Spirit (10:9-10). While the
Spirit’s presence was basic to the judges’ rule, this endowment is invested
with further meaning when applied to Israel’s kings as sons of God.
3)
Samuel’s anointing and Yahweh’s investiture with His Spirit provided the
foundation for Saul’s presentation to Israel and the nation’s embrace of
him as king (10:17-11:15). Most notable about this spectacle is the ground
of Israel’s acknowledgement and embrace of Saul. The text introduced
him in terms of his temporal attributes, and now the reason has become
clear: The sons of Israel regarded Saul and received him as their king on
the basis of these attributes – how he appeared to them (vv. 23-24).
After his presentation to the people, Saul went on to solidify his
recognition and acceptance as their king by his response to the Ammonite
siege of Jabesh-gilead (11:1-11). This was an important step in the early
administration of his reign, first because the kingship was an entirely new
phenomenon in Israel’s history and the nation needed confidence in it. But
there were also individuals in Israel who were suspicious of Saul’s reign
and their suspicion threatened to undermine his rule and the unity of Israel
under it. But, after decisively handling the crisis in Jabesh-gilead, there
was no doubt in Israel that Saul was their man (11:13-15).
4)
Saul’s triumph had won the hearts of Israel, but Samuel tempered their
exultation with a reminder of what Saul’s reign signified and the proper
role of the kingship under the covenant (12:1-25). Saul was legitimately
Israel’s king, having been anointed by both Yahweh and His prophet.
Nevertheless, the kingship resulted from the nation’s rebellion and would
not alter the fundamental covenant truth that Yahweh was King in Israel.
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God’s granting of a king didn’t in any way change either the nature of the
covenant or the fact of Israel’s great wickedness and guilt before Him (vv.
13-19). The “son” had despised the Father and the covenant, but Yahweh
would preserve His covenant relation with His people for His own name’s
sake – for the sake of His integrity and faithfulness to His promise. At the
same time, the Lord would not be mocked in His faithfulness: From that
day forward, His covenant son must renounce his rebellion, cling to Him
in single-minded devotion and serve Him with a whole heart. The God of
unbounded hesed would not leave the guilty unpunished (vv. 20-25).
e.
Chapter 12 closes with Samuel’s solemn warning that Yahweh would not tolerate
treachery by His covenant son. Disobedience would be rewarded with destruction,
and Samuel pointedly applied this truth to both nation and king. Yahweh would
not spare even His chosen, anointed ruler – a fact immediately attested in Saul’s
reign; just as He warned, the Lord swept away His disobedient king (13:1-15:35).
The specific reason for God’s rejection of Saul was his willful violation of the
priesthood in connection with a previous prophecy of Samuel concerning a future
event at Gilgal (10:8). When Samuel’s arrival at Gilgal was delayed and Saul saw
his fighting men departing from him in fear of the amassing Philistine forces, he
determined to take matters into his own hands and present a burnt offering to the
Lord, hoping thereby to gain His favor and support in the ensuing battle (13:5-9).
Soon after, Samuel arrived and declared to Saul that he had committed a grievous
sin for which he would be sorely punished. Saul’s kingdom was the
administration of Yahweh’s reign, so that the perpetuity of his kingdom depended
upon his fidelity to Israel’s covenant God (v. 13). He had violated that obligation
by his presumptuous act of unbelief, and therefore the Lord determined to strip
the kingdom from him and give it to another – a man after His own heart (v. 14).
Saul’s deposition was a settled matter, and his rejection would later be highlighted
through two further acts of selfish imprudence (14:24ff, 15:1-9). In the latter
instance, God directed Saul to go out in battle against the Amalekites and utterly
destroy everything that belonged to them. But motivated by self-promotion, Saul
determined to spare the Amalekite king and the choicest booty in order to parade
the fruit of his conquest before the sons of Israel. Once again Samuel confronted
Saul in his self-serving disobedience and reaffirmed to him that the Lord had
rejected him as king. Plead as he might, Yahweh would never relent (15:24-35).
God’s choice of Saul and His promise to establish his kingdom were not inconsistent with
His purposes in salvation history. He selected Saul because he epitomized Israel’s ideal:
Saul was a man after Israel’s heart and the Lord wanted His people to learn what sort of
man is suited to rule on His behalf. So also Samuel’s declaration to Saul regarding his
kingdom was not disingenuous (ref. again 13:13). Though Saul’s lineage alone precluded
his being Israel’s true king, that didn’t alter Yahweh’s promise to grant an enduring
dominion and dynasty to the royal son who served Him as a man after His own heart.
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9.
David’s Preparation for the Throne of Israel
It is common among Christians for Saul’s life and reign to be viewed primarily as an
example of moral and spiritual failure. Starting from the correct premise that everything
in the Scripture is of value to the Church, it is often concluded that Saul’s contribution
consists in his negative example: Saul shows the Christian community how not to live in
relation to God. In this sense he is regarded in the same way as other Old Testament
characters; his story, like theirs, is most often treated as if it were a self-contained
religious narrative intended by God simply to communicate a moral lesson.
But when viewed as it should be within the larger redemptive storyline, it’s clear that
Saul’s moral and religious failure as such is not the Scripture’s concern. God intended
that he would play a crucial role in the movement of salvation history and His
progressive revelation of His coming redemption in Christ. The components and quality
of Saul’s life and reign served the cause of salvation-historical and revelatory
development rather than being ends in themselves. Stated another way, Saul’s relevance
to the Church is found in his relation to God’s outworking of His redemption in Jesus
Christ. In isolation from that larger purpose and process, Saul’s story is meaningless.
The meaning of Saul’s life resides in his role in the ordained salvation-history,
specifically in relation to the transition from the theocracy as established at Sinai to the
theocratic monarchy. Two things about this transitional role are important to reiterate.
1)
The first is that Israel’s shift to a monarchy was not, in itself, a contrary
development. God had ordained that the kingdom promised to Abraham – the
kingdom then manifested in the form of theocratic Israel – would include a human
royal component. The fact of Israel having a human king was not only acceptable
to God, He had determined that it would be so. The Israelite kingdom embodied
the first-level fulfillment of God’s promise to Abraham; by design it was to serve
as the prototype for His eschatological kingdom presided over by Jesus Christ.
2)
From the beginning God purposed that His kingdom would be administered as a
theocratic monarchy; His immediate displeasure with the Israelite monarchy was
due to the fact that it would fall short of His design. It is precisely at this point
that the significance of Saul’s failure becomes evident. As the Lord predicted,
Saul’s reign was characterized by the “procedure of the king” and, in that sense,
was indistinguishable from every manifestation of human rule; Saul’s kingdom
wasn’t Yahweh’s kingdom. From the Bible’s perspective, the calamity that was
Saul’s kingship was not so much an indication of his own personal failure as the
failure of the Israelite kingdom under his rule to realize the divine intention.
In accordance with His purpose for His creation, God had determined that His kingdom –
hinted at in Eden and promised by covenant to Abraham – was to be a theocratic
monarchy administered by a royal seed. Saul’s ascension to the newly established throne
of Israel affirmed that intention and effected the transition to a human monarchy. But
most importantly, Saul’s reign demonstrated that Yahweh’s kingdom was yet unrealized.
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God’s rule over His creation was to be exercised through a human king, but a king who
rules as His son (with all that entails and implies). As noted above, this design – first
revealed in the creational kingdom – explains Yahweh’s displeasure with Israel’s request
for a king and the true significance of Saul’s failure. God’s rejection of Saul showed that
the fulfillment of His kingdom promise awaited another sort of human ruler.
Thus Saul’s reign as Israel’s first king formed a crucial salvation-historical bridge: As a
point of realization, it reflected back on God’s revealed intention to exercise His
sovereign rule through His royal image-son. But, falling short of that intention, Saul’s
reign equally looked forward to a future fulfillment, the hope of which was necessarily
grounded in faith in the power of God. For, whatever Saul’s failings, they were universal
human failings; his rule was consistent with every expression of human dominion in
every place and time. What this means is that God’s rejection of Saul as His king was
effectively His rejection of all natural kingship. Yahweh’s promised kingdom was to be
one in which His own dominion is administered through human rule, but all men rule
according to the “procedure of the king.” This being the case, the only hope for the
realization of God’s true kingdom was the emergence of a new kind of man, and, in the
absence of such a man, that meant living by faith.
Saul’s life and reign pointed to the need for a different sort of ruler, and that expectation
found its immediate referent in his successor David. The text leaves no doubt about
David’s distinction in this regard, introducing him as a “man after God’s own heart” even
before identifying him by name. Whereas men judge on the basis of temporal criteria,
God applies an entirely different standard in his assessment of people. So it was that even
Samuel misjudged which of Jesse’s sons would receive the Lord’s anointing (ref. 16:1-7).
Left to his own judgment, Samuel would have chosen David’s older brother, but God
knew better. Whether David would prove to be the ultimate realization of Yahweh’s
design for a king was not evident at the outset. What was clear was that, even if he did
finally fall short of that ideal, his person and reign would serve as a prototype of it.
From the point of his introduction, the text conspicuously directs its attention to
distinguishing David from Saul. Starting from David’s foundational distinction as a man
whose heart was set fully upon Yahweh, the narrative demonstrates in numerous ways
David’s unique suitability to be Saul’s successor to the throne of Israel. Saul acted as the
point of transition into the monarchy; David would serve as the first true king of the
covenant people and the fountainhead of the royal dynasty promised to the fathers.
a.
The first point of distinction between Saul and David is their respective
genealogies. While David’s lineage didn’t necessarily establish his own right to
the throne of Israel, it did disqualify Saul. God had revealed centuries earlier that
the royal component of Abraham’s line of descent was to be confined to Judah.
The scepter would continue with him until the coming of the One to whom it
rightly belonged (“Shiloh”). Thus, while Saul’s reign served the divine purpose in
the transition into the monarchy, the Lord’s own determination precluded him
from being the legitimate king of Israel. Only a descendent of Judah could
rightfully sit on the throne of Israel and reign over the covenant kingdom.
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b.
David belonged to the tribe of Judah, but that didn’t make him personally suited
to be Yahweh’s king. That affirmation came first through God’s attestation of
David’s character, but more importantly through the anointing of His Spirit.
Following Yahweh’s rejection of Saul and identification of David, the first thing
the text records is His transfer of His Spirit from Saul to David (16:11-13). Most
importantly, David is distinguished from Saul by the fact that he received the
royal anointing of Yahweh’s Spirit as a permanent endowment. Whatever might
transpire in David’s future or the future of his kingdom, his new status as Israel’s
king would not be set aside. This endowment lays the foundation for the balance
of the David narrative and speaks particularly to two key aspects of it.
1)
The first is the manner in which David would assume the throne of Israel.
Though God rejected Saul, removed His Spirit from him and anointed
David as the true king of Israel, Saul would continue to reign for many
years. By Yahweh’s own declaration (15:28), the kingdom now belonged
to David, yet his ascent to the throne would be slow and agonizing.
Throughout those intervening years the Lord demanded of David that he
believe His word of affirmation rather than his circumstances.
2)
The second matter implicated in David’s permanent anointing – the one to
which it primarily pertains – is the covenant God would later make with
him. Yahweh had chosen David to serve as His king over the covenant
household throughout his lifetime, but the true permanence of his reign
was to be realized in a perpetual royal dynasty to come from him. David’s
throne and kingdom would extend beyond his own life into eternity.
c.
The text thirdly distinguishes David from Saul by noting a particular circumstance
indicative of their individual relation to Yahweh. After rejecting Saul and
removing His Spirit from him, the Lord gave him over to be tormented by an evil
spirit. At times Saul was nearly out of his mind, and then it was David’s ministry
to him that brought him comfort and alleviation from his torment. Though Saul
continued as Israel’s ruler, he depended upon David – the true king anointed with
Yahweh’s Spirit – to deliver him from his affliction and give him rest (16:14-23).
d.
In terms of its effect on his life and future circumstance, the most significant point
of distinction for David was his encounter with Goliath (17:1-58). David’s
remarkable victory over the Philistine giant – and by implication, over the
Philistine nation – was the turning point in his life as God moved him toward the
kingship. That triumph saw David leaving his role as shepherd of his father’s
flocks to serve in Saul’s house as commander of the armies of Israel (18:1-5).
e.
David’s victory over Goliath was the start of a triumphal campaign against the
Philistines that brought him increasing distinction in Israel. When Saul realized
that his young officer was winning the hearts of his subjects, jealousy and fear
began to grow and fester within him and his previous devotion to David gradually
turned to an obsession with taking his life (cf. 16:21 with 18:6-15).
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At first Saul sought to rid himself of David through guile and conspiracy (ref.
18:17-30), but soon his obsession so consumed him that concealing his designs
was no longer a concern. All that mattered was David death, even if that meant
killing him with his own hands. Despite occasions of apparent repentance, Saul
would never really depart from that goal (cf. 19:1-10, 24:1-22, 26:1-25).
f.
The balance of First Samuel focuses the distinction between Saul and David on
their sharply contrasting attitudes and actions toward each other. For his part,
Saul’s early devotion to David degenerated into consuming hatred. Though he
knew God had stripped him of the kingdom, Saul sought to retain his hold on the
throne of Israel and the loyalty of the people. At every turn the Lord showed His
favor toward David, but Saul’s pride and blind commitment to preserving his
reign wouldn’t allow him to relinquish what had already been taken from him.
David, on the other hand, suffered terribly for a long season under Saul’s
obsessive wrath and yet remained steadfast in his dedication to the man he
continued to regard as the Lord’s anointed. It wasn’t that David was unaware that
God had rejected Saul and transferred the kingdom to him; he was simply
expressing his patient faith in God and His timing: Until such time as Yahweh
gave him the throne by removing Saul, David would yield to His providential
hand. In that sense Saul remained Israel’s king and the Lord’s anointed.
The fact that God had already transferred the kingship from Saul to David makes the
interplay between them all the more significant to the developing storyline. Both men
were aware of what God had done (cf. 15:24-29, 16:1-13, 24:17-20), yet both conducted
themselves in a manner that seemed to deny it. Saul continued to act as if he were the
rightful king of Israel, managing by means of that delusion to justify the most outrageous
behavior. He could even rationalize killing Yahweh’s priests and the inhabitants of the
sacred city of Nob as a justifiable response to David’s treason.
On the other hand, David was Yahweh’s anointed king, and yet he spent over a decade on
the run, hounded and threatened at every turn by the man God had openly rejected. As
Saul denied the reality of what the Lord had done, so it seemed with David. Why would
Yahweh’s king not take what was his? Why would he spend years running for his life
when the Lord had given him the kingdom and surrounded him with a group of mighty
men eager to help him ascend the throne? The text provides two answers to this:
1)
First, David’s preparation for serving Yahweh and His people as His king was to
find its fruitfulness in the things he suffered. David needed to learn to trust and
depend upon the Lord alone, and his long ordeal with Saul accomplished that.
2)
But more importantly, David’s ascent to the throne through patient, dependent
faith in the face of persecution and unjust suffering was crucial to his revelatory
role as the prototype of Yahweh’s true king. David’s person, reign and kingdom
prefigured greater, ultimate counterparts, so that the manner and circumstances of
his personal ascension had significance far beyond his own experience.
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10.
David’s Reign and the Davidic Covenant
After more than a decade of running for his life, David was finally liberated from Saul’s
persecution by a decisive battle with the Philistines. As a fitting epitaph to Saul’s reign in
rebellion against Yahweh, he died at his own hand, demoralized and powerless against
the enemies of the kingdom. Saul could not prevail because Yahweh had forsaken him;
Saul’s kingdom was not the kingdom promised to Abraham and initiated at Sinai.
Saul’s death was David’s indication that the time had come for him to inherit what the
Lord’s anointing had granted to him years earlier (cf. 1 Samuel 26:8-10 with 2 Samuel
2:1-4). David would assume the kingship over the covenant household, but not all at
once. In symbolic testimony to what lay ahead, the Lord instructed David to establish his
throne at Hebron – a city of refuge within Judah (Joshua 20:1-7) – with his rule extending
only to the tribe of Judah. The rest of Israel continued its subjection to the house of Saul
under the reign of his son Ish-bosheth (“man of shame”) (2 Samuel 2:8-10).
a.
The first thing to note about David’s ascent to the throne is his response to the
deaths of Saul and Jonathan. Rather than rejoicing that his longtime enemy was
dead – not to mention that this event facilitated his own long-awaited reign –
David mourned the loss of Saul and Jonathan. More than that, he made his
personal sorrow a matter of national mourning by composing a lament celebrating
their greatness and demanding that this song be taught to the sons of Judah – the
very tribe that would now serve David as king (1:17-27). David’s desire was to
see Saul – the man who had mercilessly oppressed him for many years –
commemorated as a great man throughout future generations of his own subjects.
As he had refused to seize the kingdom from Saul by political or military strategy,
so David sincerely mourned the passing of Saul’s house and dynasty. The reason
David responded this way was that he viewed the demise of Saul’s house
theocratically rather than politically: He didn’t view it as a favorable development
that enabled his own ascent to the throne (ref. 2:12-3:1); he regarded it as a
lamentable thing in that it gave occasion for Yahweh’s enemies to gloat over what
they regarded to be the desolation of His kingdom (1:17-20). Consistent with the
divine assessment of him (ref. again 1 Samuel 13:14, 16:6-7), David’s concern
was solely for God’s honor and the integrity of His kingdom, not his own rule.
b.
For the next two years David ruled over Judah while Ish-bosheth ruled over Israel.
David had taken the throne, but only in part; Israel was yet “two camps” (ref. 2:8).
Even so, Yahweh was continuing to prepare David – as well as the sons of Israel
– to fulfill his appointed destiny as undershepherd over the covenant kingdom.
1)
In Ish-bosheth, Saul’s house continued to grasp the throne of Israel in
defiance of Yahweh, and even then David didn’t seek to extend his own
reign. During that period there was ongoing hostility between David’s
house and the house of Saul, but this tension between Israelite factions
didn’t involve formal warfare between the two sub-kingdoms.
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That David didn’t pursue Ish-bosheth’s overthrow is clearly established by
his response to his death (4:1-12). Though David’s dominion continued to
grow stronger while Ish-bosheth’s weakened (3:2), he refused to take
action against Saul’s house. And when two of Ish-bosheth’s commanders
took his life, believing that David would rejoice in the news and exalt
them within his own kingdom, he instead condemned them as murderers
of a righteous man and had them slain, mutilated, and publicly disgraced.
2)
God had ordained that the two years of Ish-bosheth’s reign would
complete David’s preparation for the kingship, but also that they would
prepare those who were to be his subjects. David’s remarkable response to
the deaths of those associated with Saul’s house and reign powerfully
impressed upon the sons of Israel the fact that he wasn’t just another ruler
who sought to secure and promote his kingdom according to the
“procedure of the king” (ref. 3:26-37). That public response providentially
enabled all Israel to see in David what Yahweh saw. David was truly a
different sort of man – one uniquely suited to rule over the theocratic
kingdom as a devoted servant-shepherd of the great Shepherd of Israel.
c.
The result was that David won the hearts of all Israel. For the first time since the
death of Joshua, the tribes of Israel were reunited in firm solidarity – not through
manipulation or coercion, but through sincere devotion to their king. Whereas
Saul built and maintained his rule politically through deception, conspiracy and
fear, David gained the kingdom spiritually through single-minded devotion to the
true King. He had no agenda except integrity and faithfulness, and the sons of
Israel saw that authenticity in him and it attracted them to him. In contrast to the
procedure of the king, David was a genuine shepherd of Israel (5:1-3).
d.
Notably, David’s first recorded act subsequent to his unification of all Israel under
his rule was his conquest of Jerusalem (5:6-10). This ancient city, traditionally
believed to be the Salem of Genesis 14:18, was a Jebusite stronghold at the time
of the invasion of Canaan under Joshua. Though Israel later besieged Jerusalem,
the city had never come under Israelite occupation (cf. Judges 1:8, 21, 19:10-11).
By God’s design, that awaited the emergence of His chosen servant-king.
The significance of Jerusalem’s conquest is evident in the role it was to play in
the development of the Israelite kingdom, particularly as that kingdom predicted
and portrayed Yahweh’s final kingdom. Beginning with Moses, the Lord had
promised a future day in which He would appoint a permanent dwelling place for
Himself – a place to “put His name” (cf. Deuteronomy 12:1ff, 16:1ff, etc.), and
David believed Jerusalem was to be this place (ref. 6:1ff). Moreover, by calling
Jerusalem by his own name – the City of David (5:9), David was indicating his
conviction that Yahweh’s dwelling place is also properly the inhabitation of His
regal son. As first portrayed in the creational kingdom and reiterated in the
promise to Abraham, sacred space – the kingdom of God – is realized in the
intimate communion between the Creator-Father and His image-son.
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e.
Jerusalem was now the seat of Israel’s king, but David’s vision was to dwell there
with Israel’s God. Toward that end he had a tabernacle (“tent”) constructed in
Jerusalem (6:17) and set about bringing the ark of Yahweh’s presence from
Abinadab’s house in Kiriath-jearim to his new capital city.
As a side note, the new tabernacle at Jerusalem was not the same sanctuary first
situated at Shiloh and later moved to Nob. Following Saul’s murder of the priests
of Nob and desolation of the city, that tabernacle was relocated once more to the
sacred city of Gibeon, one of the designated cities of the Kohathite family of the
Levites (Joshua 21:17; 1 Chronicles 16:37-40, 21:29). It remained there until the
reign of Solomon and the construction of the temple (2 Chronicles 1:1-4).
The text provides no explanation for David’s building a new tabernacle at
Jerusalem rather than moving the existing one, but the greater question regards his
decision to leave the one at Gibeon intact. This resulted in a situation in which
Yahweh’s symbolic presence was in Jerusalem while worship activities also
continued at a duplicate sanctuary elsewhere. Whatever David’s reason, this was a
clear violation of God’s instruction concerning the central sanctuary and so an
early indication of David’s ultimate failure in his calling as Yahweh’s son-king.
The next indication came with the actual transport of the ark. Having prepared its
dwelling place, David astonishingly mimicked the Philistines by moving the ark
on an ox cart. When at one point it appeared the ark would topple to the ground,
Abinadab’s son Uzzah reached out to stabilize it and God responded to his
irreverence by striking him dead on the spot. This terrified David and he decided
to leave the ark in the nearby house of a man named Obed-Edom (6:1-10).
The ark remained with Obed-Edom for three months, but when David learned
how the Lord had been blessing him and his house on account of the ark, he
determined again to bring it to Jerusalem. This time, however, David followed
God’s prescription for transporting the ark (ref. Numbers 4:1-15) and had it
carried into Jerusalem in a triumphal procession (cf. 6:13).
1)
The focal point of this event was David’s presence and participation, and
the text is careful to portray him functioning in the priestly role. David
wore the linen ephod and offered numerous sacrifices to Yahweh during
the procession and after the ark’s placement in its dwelling. He also
blessed the people in Yahweh’s name (6:13-18; cf. Numbers 6:22-27).
David’s actions were remarkable given God’s response to Saul’s decision
to offer sacrifices (ref. 1 Samuel 13:8ff). On the basis of genealogy alone,
the Lord had made clear that Israel’s covenant established an unbridgeable
separation between the kingship and the priesthood. Saul had transgressed
that separation and paid with the forfeiture of his kingdom. But what was
forbidden to Saul was acceptable for David (ref. 6:20-21) – not because of
who David was personally but because of whom he prefigured.
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God’s impending covenant with David would reveal that David’s person,
reign and kingdom were to find their fulfillment and true significance in a
regal and priestly son to come from him (cf. Psalm 110; Luke 20:41ff). It
was that connection that made his actions proper and pleasing to God.
By bringing the ark to Jerusalem David had symbolically enthroned
Yahweh on Mount Zion, and he had done so through his labors as the
Lord’s chosen king-priest. Though David couldn’t know it at that time,
this action provided the foundational context for God’s covenant with him,
specifically as that covenant would contribute to the developing revelation
of redemption in Christ. In ushering in the eschatological kingdom,
David’s promised Son would likewise establish Yahweh’s unqualified rule
by His work as king-priest (cf. Psalm 110; Isaiah 2:1-4, 52:1-10; Micah
3:1-4:7; Zechariah 2:1-3:10 with Revelation 11:15-12:10; etc.).
2)
The text closes this context by noting Michal’s reaction to David’s actions
in bringing the ark to Jerusalem (6:20-22). Michal was David’s first wife,
but more importantly here, she was Saul’s daughter. It is this identity that
establishes the relevance of her response and its outcome. The ark’s settled
presence in Jerusalem had immense importance to the Israelite kingdom –
prophetically as well as historically, so that David’s boundless exultation
and celebration were fully warranted. By her embarrassment and sense of
shame Michal was showing herself to be a true daughter of her father – a
fact the text emphasizes explicitly by the way it designates her (ref. vv.
20a and 23). Like Saul, Michal conceived of the kingdom and kingship in
personal and political terms rather than theocratic ones.
The divine response was to shut her womb for the duration of her life
(6:23). In this way Yahweh brought reproach and shame upon the woman
who had found shame in the jubilant, selfless worship of His servant-king.
But the greater significance of Michal’s barrenness is that it established an
absolute separation between the houses of Saul and David. Saul’s was a
failed kingship, and God testified to this by severing his dynasty through
the transference of the kingdom to a person outside of his line. Saul had
been replaced by David and the absolute demarcation between them
necessitated that Saul’s lineage not be interwoven with David’s.
Thus David’s early reign was concerned with establishing the essential fullness of the
Israelite kingdom. Under David, Yahweh’s covenant “son” was internally reunified and
the Father was reunited to His son by the restoration of the ark of His presence – not to a
portable tabernacle, but to the place chosen to be His permanent dwelling within His
sanctuary-land. The ark’s presence in Jerusalem spoke of the end of the estrangement and
unsettledness that had marked Saul’s reign (and that would be fully resolved with the
temple). More broadly, Yahweh’s return to dwell in His son’s midst testified of His
approval of the transition in the covenant kingdom from a pure theocracy to a theocratic
monarchy. Yahweh was still Father-King in Israel, but now ruling through a royal son.
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With Yahweh’s ark now settled in Jerusalem, David’s thoughts turned to the construction
of a permanent house for Him. This was a predictable development for several reasons.
David surely knew of the Lord’s instruction to Moses regarding a central sanctuary and
His intention to appoint a permanent dwelling place for His name. David believed
Jerusalem to be that sacred site, and Yahweh’s permanent residence there would naturally
lead to the notion of replacing the tabernacle – which was specifically designed to be
portable – with a fixed sanctuary. Since the day of Israel’s departure from Egypt, the
covenant nation had been anticipating the day when the Canaanite kingdom promised to
Abraham would be fully realized, and now that day had arrived.
-
As promised through Jacob, the scepter had come to Judah in the person of David.
Under his rule, the twelve tribes had been bound together in genuine unity and
Israel’s dominion over Canaan was at last firmly established (ref. 7:1).
-
More than that, Yahweh’s chosen king had symbolically established His throne in
Jerusalem – the city bearing his own name – in fulfillment of His ancient promise
of a settled dwelling place. The royal image-son was now exercising his Father’s
sovereign rule in the context of intimate communion.
-
As previously observed, these developments within the Israelite theocracy had
profound salvation-historical significance in that they reflected God’s original
kingdom structure as revealed in the creation and forfeited by the fall. In this way
the Scripture indicates David’s kingdom to represent a kind of fulfillment of the
promise of recovery and restoration in Genesis 3:15.
The Israelite kingdom was the administration of Yahweh’s kingship, and nothing more
testified to His sovereign, enduring reign than locating the ark of His presence in the
kingdom’s new capital. His reign fully established, David had built his own royal house
in Jerusalem. But David understood that he ruled in Yahweh’s name and on His behalf; if
Jerusalem was the seat of his personal dominion, then it was equally the seat of
Yahweh’s. For that reason it was appropriate that David’s royal throne should be
overshadowed by a fixed sanctuary-throne for Israel’s true King. So it was that David’s
desire was met with eager approval even by the Lord’s own prophet (7:2-3).
But Yahweh had other plans, and He made them known to Nathan that very night. In
God’s wise providence, David’s longing to build a house for Him provided the occasion
for His disclosure of His own intent regarding His anointed king. David would not build
Yahweh’s house; to the contrary, Yahweh would build a house for David, which
determination He certified by covenant – the so-called Davidic Covenant.
f.
The Davidic Covenant is recorded in 2 Samuel 7:5-16 and 1 Chronicles 17:4-14
and is notably situated at the apex of David’s kingship. On the one side, it is
preceded by David’s long ascent to the throne and the consolidation of his reign.
On the other, it is followed almost immediately in the narrative by the account of
David’s great failure with Bathsheba – the singular event that initiated the decline
and eventual demise of his kingdom.
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Coming at the pinnacle of David’s reign, the text importantly associates David’s
desire to build a sanctuary-throne for Yahweh with the fact that He had “given
him rest on every side from all his enemies” (7:1). This statement appears
problematic at first glance, for David would continue for some time to expand his
kingdom through warfare with surrounding nations (ref. 8:1-10:19). Some have
concluded that the text only means to indicate Israel’s relative rest from enemies,
while others view the statement as a prolepsis – a backward projection into the
present of a future fulfillment. But these conclusions (as so many others), miss the
point precisely because they fail to consider this statement within the larger
salvation-historical storyline. The narrator’s concern wasn’t the state of David’s
conflict with other nations as such; he intended his statement to provide the larger
context for David’s desire to build a permanent sanctuary for Yahweh and the
covenant that followed upon it.
-
These words repeat a portion of Moses’ instruction to Israel just prior to
the nation’s entrance into Canaan (Deuteronomy 12:10-11). Acting as
Yahweh’s prophet, Moses spoke of His intention for a central sanctuary in
connection with Israel’s settled presence in the land and the future
appointment of a specific dwelling place for His name (ref. vv. 1-28).
-
By introducing the chapter in this way, the writer of Samuel was explicitly
connecting David’s desire to build the Lord a permanent dwelling with the
fulfillment of Moses’ prophetic directive concerning a central sanctuary
and the localizing of Yahweh’s worship in that one place. The reader of
Samuel is expected to make this connection in his own mind and thereby
understand that the Lord’s word to Israel through Moses was to be
fulfilled in the Jerusalem temple that David sought to build. In essence,
Yahweh’s instruction concerning a central sanctuary was His promise to
dwell permanently – in the context of peace (shalom) and rest (shabbat) –
with His covenant son in His sanctuary-land, and the temple signified His
faithfulness to that promise.
-
Thus David’s aspiration to build a temple in Jerusalem drew upon God’s
promise of a central sanctuary. But David’s personal intention served as
the springboard for Yahweh’s disclosure of His own determination
regarding David’s house and kingdom. And at the heart of that disclosure
was the revelation that the central sanctuary, which was a core feature of
the promised kingdom, was not to be ultimately realized in a physical
temple in Jerusalem. At that time, David may have thought that it would,
but the Lord was about to reveal to him that the true fulfillment of the
promise of a permanent sanctuary would come in connection with a
“house” He would build for David – not a physical dwelling, but a royal
dynasty associated with a chosen descendent. Moses’ words to Israel were
to find their true fulfillment beyond the Israelite theocracy in an
everlasting kingdom ruled by one of David’s sons.
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In the span of a few verses the writer of Samuel has bound together three crucial
considerations respecting Yahweh’s kingdom as it implicates the recovery of
sacred space. The first is the centrality within the kingdom of a fixed and
permanent sanctuary where the sons of the kingdom encounter and worship their
Father-King; the second is the indication of a near-term fulfillment in the
Jerusalem temple, while the third regards the ultimate fulfillment in relation to
David’s house and the royal seed through whom it was to be constructed.
In summary, as the Davidic Covenant conjoins the two segments of David’s reign
(its rise and fall), it provides the crucial point of connection between the prior
salvation history and that which followed it leading up to the coming of Christ.
-
God made His covenant with David within the larger context of the
Mosaic Covenant, which itself served to administer at the first, typological
level the kingdom promised in the Abrahamic Covenant. In this way the
Davidic Covenant presupposed and built upon the covenants and
revelation that preceded it. It took up in itself all that had gone before it.
Thus the Samuel writer connects the Davidic Covenant with Moses’
instruction regarding the central sanctuary and its worship.
-
At the same time, the Davidic Covenant was preeminently forward
looking. It took the promise of the kingdom and its historical realization
under David and projected them out into the future. David’s dominion
represented the fullness of the promised kingdom to that point in time,
and, by His covenant with him, Yahweh was promising both the
perpetuity and the aggrandizement of David’s kingdom.
As all of the prior salvation history had come to a convergence in David, so
everything beyond him would have reference to him and Yahweh’s covenant with
him. From the issuing of the Davidic Covenant, the perpetuity of David’s house
and kingdom stands as the focal point of God’s ongoing promise concerning His
own kingdom and its ultimate realization. The hope of the kingdom lay in
Yahweh’s enduring faithfulness to David (cf. Psalms 89 and 132 with Isaiah 7-12,
49-55; Jeremiah 30-33; Ezekiel 34-37; Hosea 1-3; Amos 9:11-15; etc.).
This is the all-important biblical framework for considering the Davidic
Covenant; without it it’s impossible to grasp the full significance of what God
was pledging to David. But with this framework in place, the meaning of the
particular features and components of the covenant become clearly evident.
1)
In context, the Davidic Covenant reflected back on David’s desire to build
God a permanent dwelling – a house – in Jerusalem. So the central feature
of the covenant was Yahweh’s declaration that He was going to build a
house for David (7:12). The content of the covenant shows that God
intended two meanings by this use of the term house: It includes the ideas
of dynasty and dominion – a kingly line as well as a kingdom.
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In vowing to build a house for David, God was first promising him a son
in whom his own reign would be continued after his death. Like his father
before him, this regal seed would be Yahweh’s beloved son (7:14); his
actions might demand chastening, but the Lord would never withdraw His
lovingkindness (hesed) from him as He had done with Saul.
But God’s promise of a house also meant that He would establish this
son’s throne and kingdom forever (7:13). In this way Yahweh would grant
to David an everlasting dominion (cf. 7:13, 16). Thus the covenant’s
central promise of an enduring house for David – as it regarded both
dynasty and dominion – was bound up in this promised descendent.
2)
At the same time, David’s desire to build a house for the Lord would not
go unsatisfied. The same son in whom God would build David’s house
would, in turn, build a house for Yahweh (v. 13a). This declaration, too, is
layered with multiple meanings. First and most obvious is its reference to
Solomon’s later work of building the Lord’s temple in Jerusalem (cf. 1
Chronicles 28:1-10 with 1 Kings 5:1-5; 2 Chronicles 6:1-11). But just as
David’s “house” involved both dynasty and dominion, so it was to be with
Yahweh’s house. Though the covenant itself was not specific in this
regard, David understood that God’s promise looked ultimately to the
distant future (7:18-19), and therefore to a seed beyond Solomon (ref.
Acts 2:22-31) and, by implication, to a house beyond the Jerusalem temple
(cf. Zechariah 6:9-15; 1 Peter 2:1-10; Revelation 21:1ff).
3)
Continuing the covenant’s overall emphasis on perpetuity, God also
promised to establish David’s seed in His house and kingdom forever. The
most notable feature of the Davidic Covenant is the way it commingles
David’s reign and kingdom with the Lord’s, and here the perpetuity of
David’s house and kingdom is the perpetuity of Yahweh’s (cf. 2 Samuel
7:16, 1 Chronicles 17:14). Again it’s crucial to note that the Davidic seed
is the point of connection between the two. At the same time, the issue of
perpetuity presses the notion of the seed beyond Solomon. Solomon did
indeed reign over God’s kingdom (1 Chronicles 28:5, 29:23), but in the
context of the failing theocracy. It can never be said that he reigned over
God’s house and kingdom in the true sense, and certainly not forever.
Thus the promise of a Davidic seed embraced both sides of the covenant: In him
Yahweh would build David’s house, but he would also build a house for
Yahweh. The perpetuity of David’s royal house, throne, and kingdom were to be
realized in this son, but he would likewise secure for Yahweh a royal dynasty and
everlasting kingdom. According to God’s word, Solomon constructed for Him a
physical sanctuary in Jerusalem; the true referent of the seed promise would first
build a dwelling for the Lord in Himself (John 1:1-14), and then through himself
in an innumerable multitude of royal offspring (cf. Jeremiah 33:14-26 with 1
Corinthians 3:16-17; Ephesians 2:11-22; 1 Peter 2:1-10; Revelation 5:1-10).
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The content of the covenant left no doubt that it looked beyond Solomon, but it
equally looked beyond Solomon’s line of descent. Though David couldn’t know it
at the time, the fulfillment of the covenant was to take place outside of his own
royal line. For within a few centuries, the Lord would forever sever that line
during the reign of David’s descendent Jehoiachin (ref. Jeremiah 22:24-30).
4)
Another crucial aspect of the covenant was its association with the core
kingdom principles of peace and rest. The text presents this state of affairs
as the historical context for the giving of the covenant (7:1), but also as a
key feature of the covenant’s fulfillment (7:10-11). The implication is that,
when Yahweh fulfilled His promise to build an enduring house for David
by establishing his throne and kingdom in his son, it would be in
connection with the everlasting peace and rest of His covenant people.
Yahweh’s securing of David’s throne and kingdom would effect the
securing of the peace and well-being of the sons of the kingdom. This
whole program, in turn, would be the ultimate realization of Yahweh’s
own kingdom and reign (cf. again 2 Samuel 7:16 with 1 Chronicles 17:14).
This association of the Davidic Covenant with the kingdom themes of
peace and rest explains why God wouldn’t allow David to build the temple
but gave that privilege to Solomon. The Lord was pleased with the idea of
a permanent sanctuary; He just wouldn’t permit David to build it (1 Kings
8:12-19). The reason God gave was that David was a man of war who had
shed blood (1 Chronicles 28:2-3), leading some to conclude that the Lord
was displeased with him. But nothing could be further from the truth:
David had taken men’s lives, but always in God’s name and on His behalf.
Yahweh refused David’s desire, not because he had blood on his hands,
but because of the typological significance of the building of the temple.
Solomon – whose name is derived from the Hebrew noun shalom
(“peace”) – ruled over the kingdom secured by his father. David had
brought the kingdom to its fullness through military conquest; Solomon
ruled that kingdom in the context of peace and rest just as the covenant
had stipulated. Because of what the Davidic Covenant promised, and
because Solomon’s role in relation to it prefigured another son of David, it
was necessary that Solomon build Yahweh’s house in a time of tranquility
and well-being secured by the defeat of the enemies of the kingdom.
Otherwise, the typological connection between these two Davidic sons
would be lost. For, like his predecessor, David’s latter and greater son
would build the Lord’s true dwelling, not by means of conquest, but by
virtue of it; not as a warrior king, but as a priest-king (Zechariah 6:9-15).
As the one to whom David’s own person and reign looked, this son would
secure God’s kingdom through patient suffering leading to the overthrow
of His enemies. But having thus ushered in the kingdom, He would then
build Yahweh’s house as a new Solomon in the context of peace and rest.
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At the heart of the Davidic Covenant was the Lord’s determination to build a house for
His beloved king. In turn, the divine promise of a house – representing both a Davidic
dynasty and the enduring dominion of that dynasty – was to be fulfilled in connection
with one of David’s descendents. Through this descendent, Yahweh would construct a
royal line for David and establish his throne and kingdom forever.
But the Lord had also appointed this same descendent to build a house for Him. Not
David, but the promised seed would fulfill David’s desire, and the reason was the
necessity of Yahweh’s house being constructed in the context of peace and rest. Thus
Solomon – the man of peace whose kingdom would be defined by “rest on every side” –
was to build the permanent sanctuary David longed to see erected in Jerusalem.
g.
David’s successor would build the temple, but the ultimate concern in that work
was not a physical sanctuary in the new Israelite capital, but its contribution to the
fulfillment promised in the covenant. Another son of David would emerge in the
future to build an everlasting dwelling for Yahweh, but He, too, would do so in a
kingdom defined by peace and rest. It is in this regard that the interweaving of
priestly considerations with the Davidic kingship becomes most meaningful.
While priestly matters are not directly addressed in the Davidic Covenant, the
biblical text clearly establishes the priestly component of David’s kingship.
-
It is first of all evident in David’s actions as Israel’s king (ref. 6:13-19).
-
But it is also implied in his status as the representative head of the Israelite
nation. Israel was collectively Yahweh’s chosen and beloved “son,” and
David held this distinction in a preeminent way. David epitomized Israel
in its covenant relationship to Yahweh, and central to that relationship was
the nation’s status as a kingdom of priests (Exodus 19:1-6); Israel was to
express its sonship through consecrated devotion to its Father-God. If
Israel was a priestly entity, so also was the king who epitomized Israel.
But the priestly aspect of David’s reign arguably finds its greatest biblical
articulation in Psalm 110. This psalm is important to the present consideration,
not primarily because it’s attributed to David and implicates his personal reign,
but because of its allusions to the Davidic Covenant with its promise of a royal
seed and everlasting dominion for David’s house. The covenant presents as the
context for that dominion perfect and unending peace associated with the
destruction of the enemies of the kingdom (2 Samuel 7:10-11), and this Davidic
psalm emphasizes the same theme of the triumph of Yahweh’s king (ref. 110:1-3).
When viewed in connection with the Davidic Covenant, Psalm 110 introduces a
priestly component to the covenant and its prophetic concern for David’s house
and kingdom, even as it suggests the priestly quality of David’s own kingship.
This, together with the recognition of David’s status as the epitomizing Israelite,
leads William Dumbrell to observe regarding Psalm 110:
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“In its contemplation of a priestly kingship, the psalm appears to suggest that in
the person of the king, the demand contemplated for all Israel in Exod. 19:3b-6
has been embodied. Only kingship of that character, the psalm seems to imply in
its second half, will guarantee the political extension of the Jerusalem kingdom,
which it anticipates (Ps. 110:5-7). David’s line is thus to reflect, in the person of
the occupant of the throne of Israel, the values which the Sinai covenant had
required of the nation as a whole.” (Covenant and Creation)
In this statement Dumbrell is speaking from the understanding that the Sinai
Covenant defined Israel – both to itself and to the nations around it; the covenant
showed Israel what it meant to be Israel, the elect and beloved “son of God.” This
national identity was later epitomized in David, whose own identity and role were
to be reproduced in a superlative sense in a seed to come from him. Thus, if
Israel’s filial identity and covenant fidelity were bound up in priestly concerns, so
also were those of the son promised to David in the Davidic Covenant.
In God’s developing revelation of His redemption in Christ, the two primary
streams of Old Testament messianism (kingly and priestly) notably converge in
the person of David. And having come together in him, they are projected onto
the son promised in the covenant. What is not directly evident in the covenant
itself is made explicit by its connection with Psalm 110: The Davidic Branch, in
whom Yahweh had determined to establish David’s throne and kingdom forever,
would exercise His everlasting reign in the context of a perpetual priesthood.
In fulfilling the Davidic kingship (cf. 110:1 with Matthew 22:41-45), the Davidic
Branch would also fulfill the kingship of Melchizedek – the king of peace
(“Salem”) and priest of God Most High (cf. 110:4 with Hebrews 5:5-10 and
Romans 8:33-34 with Hebrews 7:1-8:6; cf. also Revelation 5:4-6). As the ultimate
David, this son would establish Yahweh’s kingdom and secure its peace through
the conquest of all its enemies. But having done so, He would go on to build
Yahweh’s house, ruling forever as a priest upon His throne (Zechariah 6:9-15).
h.
The definitive Son of David would one day build an everlasting, spiritual house
for the Lord, but in the meantime there was to be a near-term temporal fulfillment
of the covenant promise. Thus, after recording the covenant, the Samuel narrative
immediately turns its attention to chronicling David’s continuing success in
establishing the full bounds of his kingdom (8:1-10:19). The writer specifically
recounts David’s military victories over several of Israel’s most important
historical enemies: Philistia, Moab, Ammon, Edom and Aram (cf. 1 Chronicles
18-19), and this recounting serves two principal purposes in the narrative:
1)
First of all, by giving direct attention to David’s conquest of a group of
nations that epitomized the enduring enemies of the Israelite kingdom, the
text is emphasizing the fulfillment of what it previously affirmed, namely
that, through David, Yahweh had given Israel rest on every side from all
of its enemies (ref. again 7:1, 9).
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2)
But there is a second, even more important reason for this record of
conquests. Though the Lord had refused David’s intention to build Him a
house in Jerusalem, He affirmed to His king that such a dwelling would
indeed be constructed. Armed with that promise, David redirected his zeal
toward preparations for the temple on behalf of the son appointed to build
it. In particular, he began accumulating the precious materials needed for
its construction, obtaining them largely from the tribute he exacted from
the various Gentile nations he had subjected to his rule (cf. 8:1-12 with 1
Chronicles 18:1-11, 22:1-16). The significance of this action within the
developing salvation history is profound, but is all too often missed
because of the failure to view it within the larger biblical storyline.
It has been demonstrated throughout this study that sacred space – the realm and
manner in which God is present in relation to His creation – is central to the
biblical conception of the kingdom of God. And for that very reason, the notion of
sanctuary also stands at the forefront of the doctrine of the kingdom.
-
In the creational kingdom, the Garden itself served as the divine sanctuary.
There the first man and woman communed with their Creator-Father and,
as an expression and extension of that communion, were directed to
administer His rule over His creation.
-
So, too, the Israelite form of the kingdom had its focal point in a divine
dwelling in the presence of the image-son (ref. again Exodus 15:11-17,
25:1-8). Yahweh’s sanctuary first existed as a portable and impermanent
tabernacle, testifying in a tangible way to the unrealized character of the
covenant kingdom prior to David. But now David’s labors as Israel’s king
had secured the kingdom’s settled fullness, indicating that the time had
come for the Lord’s sanctuary to take the form of a permanent dwelling.
Despite their notable differences, both sanctuaries shared a crucial point of
commonality: Both were constructed with wealth drawn from the nations.
From the beginning God’s intention was that His house should be
constructed from a contribution freely given by His people. But in every
instance, their contributions would not originate entirely with them; what
they offered to Yahweh flowed to them from the nations around them.
This principle, first introduced with the tabernacle (cf. Genesis 15:13-14 with
Exodus 11:1-2, 12:35-36), becomes in the biblical storyline a foundational
kingdom theme that eventually finds its ultimate fulfillment in Yahweh’s true
house composed of men from every tribe, tongue and nation (cf. Haggai 2:1-9
with Zechariah 6:9-15; also Matthew 16:13-18 with 1 Peter 2:1-10). And so, even
as the text records David’s ingathering of the “precious value” of the subjects of
his kingdom for use in building the Lord’s holy dwelling, it does so conscious that
it is pointing prophetically to the day when David’s greater Son would Himself
repeat and fulfill His father’s work (cf. Amos 9:11-15 with Acts 15:1-18).
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i.
From the Davidic Covenant the Samuel narrative moves quickly to the account of
David’s relationship with Bathsheba (2 Samuel 11:1-12:25). If God’s covenant
with David represented the pinnacle of his kingship, the Bathsheba episode
represented its low point. For it was this event that turned the tide in David’s reign
and initiated the pattern of decline that culminated in the devastation and captivity
of the entire Israelite theocracy. As the height of Israel’s power and glory was
associated with David, so also was the nation’s desolation.
The Bathsheba episode occurred during a time when David remained behind in
Jerusalem while his army went out to fight the Ammonites. While walking on the
roof of his palace one evening, he spotted Bathsheba bathing and was
immediately taken with her beauty. When David learned who she was and that her
husband was away fighting with his army, he sent a servant to bring her to him.
When the servant informed Bathsheba that the king himself was calling for her,
Bathsheba arose and went with him. Then, yielding to the pressure of his royal
authority, she consented to allow Israel’s great king to defile her (11:1-4).
But David’s secret sin was not to remain hidden. Soon Bathsheba realized she was
pregnant with David’s child, and when she notified the king he immediately sent
for her husband Uriah under the pretence of learning how the battle was
progressing. David’s intent was to give Uriah time with his wife so that he’d be
deceived into thinking that her child was his own. But in an act of profound irony,
Uriah refused to go to Bathsheba out of devotion to David and the cause of his
kingdom (vv. 5-13). When David realized his plan was not going to succeed, he
sent his faithful soldier back to the battlefield with instructions to Joab to have the
army draw back from him in battle so that he would be killed (vv. 14-25).
As soon as he received notice that Uriah had died in battle David made Bathsheba
his wife. No doubt he hoped that, now at last, his sin would never be exposed. If
someone questioned the timing of the child’s birth, he could remind them that
Uriah had been in Jerusalem during the time when Bathsheba became pregnant.
And with Uriah dead, there was no one to refute the claim that he had fathered
this child. Surely David’s loyal servants would never divulge the ugly truth.
David’s actions are astonishing in their own right, but even more so when
considered alongside those of his predecessor.
-
When Israel petitioned Samuel for a king, Yahweh had warned them that a
human ruler – regardless of who he might be – would exercise his reign
according to the “procedure of the king.” The Lord was willing to honor
their request, but first the sons of Israel needed to understand that their
new king would exploit his power and authority and the people and
resources under his control to his own advantage. And just as Yahweh had
warned, so it turned out to be with Saul. Saul ruled in his own name and
for his own sake, and the Lord’s subsequent rejection of him testified that
the Abrahamic promise of a royal seed was yet to be fulfilled.
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-
On the other hand, David seemed in every respect to be that ruler.
Yahweh’s own assessment was that David was a man after His own heart,
unlike Saul who met the people’s unspiritual expectations. Furthermore,
he was a descendent of the royal tribe of Judah and a proven warrior and
shepherd. Above everything else, God had made His covenant with David
to establish and secure his throne and kingdom forever.
But now, emerging from the glorious light of the covenant that had affirmed his
unique distinction, David was repeating Saul’s sin. The man who had once been
subjected to abuse of power, deception, conspiracy, and malicious intent at the
hands of Israel’s rejected king was now doing the same thing to his own subject.
Like Saul before him, David conspired against his devoted servant purely out of a
motive of self-service and self-preservation. For all his excellencies as the Lord’s
anointed, David, too, showed himself to be just another human king – a man who,
like all others, would rule in accordance with the “procedure of the king.”
Though the Bathsheba episode is most often treated as a moral lesson in the
danger of unguarded eyes and passions, its true meaning and importance are
found in its relation to the developing biblical storyline: David’s failure reached
beyond his personal life to his role within and contribution to God’s allencompassing redemptive plan. This is evident in the way Yahweh confronted
David through the mouth of His prophet (12:1-14). Nathan used a parable to show
the king the true nature and seriousness of his actions, and he followed that
parable by declaring to David the consequences of what he had done.
1)
The first consequence was intrinsic rather than punitive. In ancient Near
Eastern conception, kings were typically regarded as divine sons of one or
more of their national deities, so that everything about a king as well as
the kingdom he ruled reflected back on those particular gods. God used
that way of thinking about the ideas of kingship and kingdom to facilitate
Israel’s witness to Him in the world.
By divine design, Yahweh’s covenant “son” would make Him known to
the surrounding nations by its faithfulness to His covenant. The Gentiles
would come to know Israel’s God by observing Israel meet the demands
of its sonship. Thus Abraham’s seed would fulfill their mandate of
mediating the knowledge of the true God to the families of the earth.
But, if the Israelite nation bore witness to Yahweh by the way it lived in
the sight of the world, Israel’s king did so in a preeminent way. The
nations around Israel understood David’s rule as the exercise of Yahweh’s
rule. The king of Israel was the son of Israel’s God, which meant that
David’s personal unrighteousness and failures reflected back upon his
divine Father as much as his triumphs did. Thus Nathan declared to David
that his actions had implications far beyond his own house and kingdom:
he had given the enemies of God reason to blaspheme Him (12:14).
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David’s failure to fulfill Yahweh’s design for the kingship was equally his
failure as a son of Abraham. The Abrahamic Covenant had identified as
the central characteristic of Abraham’s descendents their unique
appointment to be God’s vehicle for carrying His blessing to the ends of
the earth (ref. again Genesis 12:3, 22:15-18, 26:1-4, 28:10-14). This
blessing amounts to the true knowledge of Yahweh, and the world would
come to know Him – as well as what it means to be His “sons” – through
the witness of covenant faithfulness on the part of Abraham’s offspring.
The nation of Israel was this offspring, and David was the epitomizing
Israelite. Israel had failed from the beginning to fulfill its identity as the
seed of Abraham and now so had David. As much as the fulfillment of the
Abrahamic promise appeared to demand a new Israel, the Bathsheba
episode indicated that it demanded another David.
2)
David’s conviction of his failure to fulfill his calling with respect to the
Abrahamic mandate and his own kingship was an overwhelming
consequence in itself, but God pronounced two other punitive judgments
upon him. What is crucial to note about these judgments is that each of
them directly implicated the Lord’s promises to David in the Davidic
Covenant. David’s personal failure was to have grave implications for the
perpetuity of his house and kingdom as promised in the covenant.
The first of those judgments was that God was going to take the life of the
son conceived by David’s sin (12:13-23). The second amounted to an
extension of the first: Yahweh had determined to introduce enduring
enmity, conflict, death and destruction into David’s house, expressed in
His declaration that the sword would never depart from it (12:10). Even
David himself would feel the edge of the Lord’s punishing sword (12:11).
j.
God didn’t disclose the specific punishment of verse 11 just so that David would
know that he, too, was going to suffer directly for his offense (cf. again 12:14);
rather, it was to show him that, in parallel with the covenant promise, the
forthcoming judgment also pertained to both aspects of his house: his immediate
household (dynasty) and his kingdom (dominion). This would become explicitly
clear in the fulfillment (ref. 16:15-23). In the near term, David’s family was to be
torn apart, but the greater punishment would be realized in the rending of David’s
kingdom – first in its division into two sub-kingdoms, but ultimately in the
complete desolation of both “houses” of Israel. Again, to grasp the full
significance of God’s judgment on David and his house it must be interpreted in
the light of the Davidic Covenant that provides the larger context for it.
1)
In the covenant God had promised that He would build an enduring
dynasty for David, and now He was taking his son. While David had other
sons at that time (ref. 3:2-5), the implication remains that, by taking the
life of this child, the Lord was setting Himself against David’s dynasty in
apparent opposition to His pledge to build and establish it.
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2)
The tearing down of David’s house was further indicated by the Lord’s
determination to bring a sword against it. From that day forward the
Davidic household was to be marked by enmity, strife, and death, and the
catalyst for that tragic and perpetual state of affairs was Amnon’s rape and
rejection of his half-sister Tamar (13:1-20). In an act of ironic justice, the
same defiling lust that had initiated David’s offense was now, in his son,
the point of initiation for the Lord’s punishment of that offense.
3)
Amnon’s perverse actions – and David’s weak response to them –
provoked the indignation of Tamar’s brother Absalom, and his festering
hatred and resentment provided the seed bed for his eventual rebellion
against his father and attempt upon his throne. The Lord had declared that
the sword coming upon David’s house would include evil raised up
against him personally, and one specific manifestation of that was to be
David’s public disgrace through the open violation of his wives by
someone very close to him. That prophetic word was later to be fulfilled
by his son Absalom. But more than merely a son’s outrageous affront to
his father, Absalom’s actions powerfully communicated his determined
assault on David’s throne and kingdom. By taking his father’s royal
concubines in the sight of all Israel, Absalom was effectively proclaiming
his appropriation of the kingdom itself (cf. 1 Kings 2:13-24).
When the judgment pronounced upon David’s house is properly considered in
terms of its historical outworking on the one hand and the promises of the Davidic
Covenant on the other, the result is an unavoidable sense that David’s sin with
Bathsheba had resulted in the Lord rejecting his covenant with him. In this way an
overt tension is set up in the biblical storyline:
-
At the heart of the Davidic Covenant was God’s pledge to establish
David’s house, throne, and kingdom, and those same elements were the
focal point of the judgment that had now come upon David. The Lord’s
covenant declared that He would build David’s house; His judgment
pronounced His determination to tear it down.
-
This alone suggests an obvious conflict, but the difficulty is fully realized
in the fact that both the covenant and the judgment were to be everlasting.
The apparent contradiction of “building” and “tearing down” could be
resolved, but only if these actions were not simultaneous. But when each
is declared to be perpetual, there appears to be no way to uphold both. In
that case, the fact that the judgment follows the covenant seems to indicate
that God had now set aside His previous promises to David.
The gravity of this dilemma becomes evident in the recognition that the end of the
Davidic Covenant meant more than the demise of David’s personal house and
kingdom; given its place in the salvation history, the end of the covenant meant
that God was renouncing every word of promise all the way back to the Garden.
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11.
The End of David’s Reign – Judgment and Promise
The Bathsheba episode initiated the beginning of the end of David’s kingdom. More
importantly, Yahweh’s judgment against David appeared to negate His previous covenant
with him. For, in the covenant Yahweh promised to build and establish David’s house,
but now He had declared His intention to tear it apart. The sword first came upon David’s
house in the death of his baby son, and from there it extended its reach to others among
his children. Soon Absalom murdered his brother Amnon, only to meet his own death at
the hand of Joab, David’s nephew and loyal commander of his army (18:1-15).
The sword had come heavily upon David’s household, but soon began to move against
David’s theocratic house. Even as the covenant implicated both David’s kingdom and his
royal line of descent, so it was with Yahweh’s judgment. Absalom’s rebellion became a
cancer that spread throughout the whole Israelite kingdom; before long all the elders of
Israel had rallied to his side and were conspiring with him to take David’s life (17:1-4).
The narrative leaves no doubt that David’s house and kingdom were coming apart, and
yet it is careful to show that Yahweh had not rejected His covenant with David. The first
indication was David’s restoration to his throne after the death of Absalom (19:1ff), but
more significant is the record of David’s final words in which he celebrates the Lord’s
covenant with him and rejoices in faith that He will fulfill it (23:1-5, cf. 22:50-51). That
poem of exultation and faith is then immediately reinforced by an event that follows in
the narrative, namely David’s decision to take a census of his kingdom (24:1ff).
a.
Though this action was according to divine purpose, it amounted to faithlessness
on David’s part. The reason was that his intent in the census was to take account
of his military strength (vv. 4-9). Whether out of pride or to bolster his confidence
in his nation’s power and security, David’s census betrayed a crisis of faith and
misplaced confidence: Yahweh was Israel’s King and commander of its hosts;
David well knew that Israel’s power and triumph in every circumstance were
insured because the Lord fought for His people.
The man who had begun his career as Israel’s leader standing toe-to-toe with the
Philistine giant (who epitomized the enemies of Yahweh and His kingdom),
confident and unafraid because he came in the name of the God of Israel (ref. 1
Samuel 17:41-47) was now, in the twilight of his reign, sadly moved to place his
trust in sword and spear.
b.
God’s response to David’s faithless action was to present him with three
punishments from which he was to make a choice (24:10-13). Notably, this time
David acted in faith, entrusting himself to the Lord’s goodness and mercy (v. 14).
Yahweh responded by choosing the latter of the three, sending a plague upon
Israel that resulted in seventy thousand deaths from Dan in the north to Beersheba
at the southern border of the land (24:15; cf. with v. 1). But when the smiting
angel stretched out his hand to destroy the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the Lord
restrained him and pronounced the end of His judgment (v. 16).
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c.
As indicated above, the episode that follows in the narrative (24:17-25; cf. also 1
Chronicles 21:15-27) powerfully reinforces David’s confident words in 23:1-5,
but it’s important for another reason as well. Viewed within the broader context, it
clearly affirmed the Lord’s ongoing commitment to His covenant, but it also
contributed to it. That is, it provided a crucial revelatory contribution to the
meaning of the covenant and the way it was ultimately to be fulfilled.
-
After noting Yahweh’s decision to stay His hand, the narrative
immediately turns its attention to David and what was transpiring in his
thoughts during the time the plague was running its course. When David
saw the sons of Israel dying he cried out to God to lift His judgment from
the people and instead let him and his house bear the full punishment.
-
God’s response to David’s plea was to direct him to construct an altar
there at Araunah’s threshing floor where He had stopped His angel’s
destroying hand. Toward that end, David sought to purchase the threshing
floor but Araunah was unwilling to sell it. He desired to give it to his king
– along with the oxen and implements to build the sacrificial fire, but
David insisted upon paying him in full. After securing the site David
proceeded to construct an altar and thereby fulfill the Lord’s command.
What immediately comes to mind regarding this episode is its connection with the
promised central sanctuary. By purchasing Araunah’s threshing floor David had
secured the site upon which his son Solomon would construct the house indicated
in the covenant (2 Chronicles 3:1; cf. 1 Chronicles 21:28-22:5). Thus the Lord’s
plague providentially served the goal of the Jerusalem temple. In itself this shows
that, at least to the extent of near-term, temporal fulfillment, the Lord had not
forsaken His covenant, and many look no further than this in their understanding
of this passage. But when considered within the context of the Davidic Covenant
and the entire David narrative, this episode and its particulars are seen to make a
profound contribution to God’s revelation of His coming redemption.
1)
The first thing to observe in this regard is that the text attributes God’s
decision to withdraw His hand to David’s intercession and sacrifice (v.
25). It’s true that the narrative records the Lord’s relenting from His
punishment in advance of David’s intercessory plea, but a careful reading
reveals that it does so, not as a matter of chronology, but of emphasis.
The writer constructed his narrative in such a way that it would highlight
both concerns: Yahweh’s determination to stop the plague on the one hand
and David’s intercession as the crucial context for that decision on the
other (ref. 24:17). He intentionally addressed each issue separately and
then conspicuously waited until the final verse of the book to disclose the
relationship between them. Only then did he reveal that David’s petition –
framed by his priestly ministration – moved the Lord to end His
punishment of His land and His people.
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2)
At the heart of the Davidic Covenant was its two-fold promise of a house:
a house for David and a house for Yahweh. In both instances fulfillment
was bound up in a promised seed; God was going to build David’s house
in and through that son and he, in turn, would build a house for Him. The
initial fulfillment of this double promise came in David’s son Solomon. In
Solomon the Lord began the process of building David’s royal dynasty
(house) and he, after assuming David’s throne, went on to build Yahweh’s
sanctuary on the site purchased by his father.
3)
David bought Araunah’s threshing floor in order to build the altar, but the
Chronicles account is explicit that he didn’t connect that situation with the
future temple until after he had completed his offerings. At the moment
his only intent was to fulfill the Lord’s commandment in reference to the
plague that was besieging Israel. David had petitioned Yahweh to allow
him to bear the stroke in the place of his people and the Lord granted his
plea by directing him to intercede for them through a sacrifice at the place
of judgment. David turned away the Lord’s fierce anger from Israel by his
priestly ministration in offering up an acceptable sacrifice.
At one level this action clearly prefigured the priestly work that would transpire in
that place in connection with the future temple. But given the scope of the
Davidic Covenant – which implicated the temple and its ministration but also
looked beyond it, David’s actions had a profound prophetic significance
transcending the near-term fulfillment. Observations thus far should make this
evident, but it becomes more so when all the details of the passage are considered.
-
First of all, the Samuel writer was careful to introduce into his narrative
the shepherd/sheep motif (v. 17) and this makes an important contribution
to its prophetic significance. By referring to the sons of Israel as sheep in
his petition David was implying his own role as Israel’s shepherd.
“Shepherd” is a common leadership designation in the Scripture and, not
surprisingly, its preeminent application is to God Himself (ref. Psalm 23:1,
28:8-9, 80:1; Ecclesiastes 12:11; Isaiah 40:10-11; etc.). But being closely
associated with the idea of kingship, the Old Testament attaches this term
particularly to David, both in relation to his own reign and the Davidic
Covenant (cf. 2 Samuel 5:2, 7:8 with Psalm 78:70-72 and Ezekiel 34).
In this context, the writer’s intention was two-fold:
1)
First, he clearly wanted his readers to regard David’s plea and
intercession in pastoral terms. In other words, it was as the faithful
shepherd of Yahweh’s flock that David sought to bear the rod in
their place. The Lord had called David from the sheepfold to
shepherd His people Israel, and he was now putting his own life
forward for theirs just as he had intervened for his father’s flock
when their lives were being threatened by predatory animals.
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2)
But the shepherd motif also connects this episode with the Davidic
Covenant, and it is with that in view that the ultimate significance
of David’s intercession becomes evident. The covenant had its
focal point in a Davidic seed such that David was to realize his
own personal and regal significance in that seed. By means of
God’s covenant with him, David was established as a type of his
promised son; thus, from the point of the making of the covenant,
the Scripture explicitly refers to this son of David under the name
David (Ezekiel 34:23-24, 37:24-25; Hosea 3:5; cf. Isaiah 11:1, 10).
The implication is that the text intends for David’s intercession to
be understood as prefiguring the same work in the promised
covenant seed: David, the anointed and beloved shepherd of
Yahweh’s flock, was interceding on their behalf, pleading with the
covenant Lord to strike him in the place of the sheep. So one day
the Son of David would declare: “I am the good shepherd; the
good shepherd lays down His life for the sheep” (John 10:11).
-
Another important detail in the narrative is David’s comment explaining
his insistence upon paying the full price for Araunah’s threshing floor and
oxen. Araunah was eager to give everything to him, but David staunchly
refused: “I will not offer burnt offerings to the Lord my God which cost me
nothing” (ref. again vv. 19-24). David desired to take the blow for his
sheep and the Lord prescribed a sacrifice to accomplish that end. The fact
that the acceptable sacrifice came at the shepherd’s personal expense is an
important component in the typology of this event. But, whereas David
gave over his earthly resource to provide the Lord’s demanded offering
and thereby secure deliverance for his people, the promised son would
give Himself as the fulfillment of all sacrifice and offering.
-
Finally, the location of the sacrifice is significant. The circumstances
surrounding the Davidic Covenant – the conquest of Jerusalem and
David’s desire to erect a permanent sanctuary there – implied that
Jerusalem was to be the site of the central sanctuary. Now, David’s
purchase connected Yahweh’s sanctuary more narrowly with a threshing
floor. The significance of this association is that threshing floors were
winnowing places where grain and chaff were separated. This winnowing
process, in turn, is used in the Scripture as a metaphor for God’s judgment
by which He distinguishes between those who are His people and those
who aren’t (ref. Exodus 15:7; Psalm 1:1-6; Jeremiah 15:1-9; etc.). This
imagery takes on special significance in relation to the promised day when
Yahweh would wield his winnowing fork and establish His everlasting
kingdom (cf. Isaiah 41:1-20 and Malachi 4:1-3 with Matthew 3:1-12). So
Araunah’s threshing floor was a place of divine judgment – a place where
Yahweh’s wrath, justly arrayed against unfaithful men, was turned aside
by the intervening self-sacrifice of the faithful shepherd of the sheep.
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12.
Solomon’s Reign – A Study in Contrasts
The parallel principles of divine judgment and promise that defined the end of David’s
reign continued during the rule of his son Solomon. Yahweh had sent the sword upon
David’s house and Solomon would not be exempt from it. At the same time, the Davidic
Covenant specified a Davidic seed who would build the Lord’s house and Solomon was
the first point of fulfillment of that promise. Yahweh chose Solomon to construct the
physical house in Jerusalem, and precisely because he and his work prefigured another
seed, it was necessary that he accomplish that task in the context of peace and rest.
-
By divine design, the full splendor, glory, power and dominion of David’s
kingdom were manifest in Solomon’s reign because of his role in connection with
the covenant. The Lord hadn’t renounced His judgment upon David’s house, but
He held the kingdom together during Solomon’s lifetime for the sake of His
promise to David (Psalm 132; 1 Kings 11:1ff; cf. also 2 Kings 18:28-19:34). To
have done otherwise would be to destroy the typological connection between
Solomon and the greater Davidic seed appointed to build Yahweh’s true house.
-
And so, while the temple project stood as the single great episode in Solomon’s
life and reign, the glory of that pinnacle event was overshadowed by the everpresent cloud of judgment and failure. Both Solomon’s personal life and his reign
were increasingly characterized by decline and departure from the Lord and His
covenant. For all his greatness and the greatness of his accomplishments, like his
father before him Solomon’s kingship would fall short of the Abrahamic promise.
Even a casual reading of the Solomon narrative shows him to be a study in contrasts: a
man of unique wisdom who manifested incredible foolishness; a ruler given a kingdom
marked by supernatural peace who yet sought security in natural alliances; a son uniquely
beloved by God who gave his attention and affection to false deities. As with every
biblical character and narrative, the true significance of these contrasts is easily lost when
they are not kept within the broader salvation-historical context. That is, the particulars of
Solomon’s life and reign find their meaning in his role within God’s developing
revelation of redemption. It’s not that those particulars have no personal or historical
relevance, but they are bound up in the larger biblical storyline. Solomon’s life and
kingship contribute to that storyline, providing a crucial revelatory/prophetic function.
a.
Solomon was the son of promise by virtue of the covenant God made with his
father. As the son appointed to build the Lord’s house in Jerusalem, Solomon
prefigured the ultimate Son of David identified in the covenant. This means that
the notable features of his life and reign – the features that the biblical text is
careful to highlight – must be read in the light of his typological role. So, for
instance, Solomon’s unique, supernatural wisdom (1 Kings 3:3ff), his intimacy
with God (cf. 2 Samuel 12:24-25; 1 Kings 8:22ff) and the unparalleled splendor
and glory of his kingdom were historical features of his own life, but the nature of
the covenant necessitates that they be understood prophetically in terms of their
ultimate counterparts associated with the One whom Solomon prefigured.
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And the most significant of those features – readily demonstrated from the
biblical text – was Solomon’s role as the builder of the Lord’s house:
-
First and foremost, the Davidic Covenant itself specifically identifies this
as the preeminent work of the promised seed (2 Samuel 7:12-13).
-
Consistent with that emphasis, more than half of the narrative space
devoted to Solomon’s life in the book of Second Chronicles is concerned
with the construction and dedication of the temple (2 Chronicles 2-7; cf. 1
Kings 5-8). And in both the Kings and Chronicles accounts the sections
dealing with the building of the temple are framed by passages connecting
Solomon’s labors with the Lord’s fulfillment of His covenant with David
(ref. 1 Kings 5:1-5, 8:12-21, 9:1-5; cf. 2 Chronicles 3:1, 7:8-18).
-
Beyond the temple episode, the text is careful to associate (directly or
indirectly) various aspects of Solomon’s person and reign with the Davidic
Covenant. And being the promised Davidic seed, it is impossible to
consider Solomon apart from his commission to build Yahweh’s house.
Given the centrality of the temple, it is not surprising that the passages addressing
it are rich in content having salvation-historical and typological import:
1)
David had gathered the building materials for the temple largely from the
wealth of the Gentile nations, and this same theme is continued in the
construction narrative. Both biblical accounts record Solomon’s request of
Hiram to provide him with cedar trees for the temple’s wooden planks and
beams (1 Kings 5:1ff; 2 Chronicles 2:1ff), and First Kings (9:15ff) notes
his conscription of non-Israelites to do much of the labor. Using the
wealth of the nations to build Yahweh’s sanctuary originated with the first
tabernacle and was repeated in both of the Jerusalem temples. Ironically,
the second temple reached its pinnacle of scope and splendor through the
efforts of the Idumean ruler Herod the Great, a descendent of Esau.
2)
The narrative’s description of the temple and its furnishings also
highlights the fact that it represented a superlative expression of the
Mosaic tabernacle. In keeping with Yahweh’s demand to Moses that His
sanctuary be built according to His prescription, Solomon replicated the
aspects and features of the tabernacle, but on a much grander scale.
For instance, the relative dimensions of the structure were preserved but
the overall size was doubled. Thus the cubic space of the Holy of Holies
was enlarged eight-fold as the dimensions in each direction were doubled
from ten cubits to twenty (cf. 1 Kings 6:2, 20 with Exodus 26). Likewise,
the ark of Yahweh’s presence was still overshadowed by two golden
cherubim with their wings extended toward each other, but now they filled
the entire inner sanctuary from wall to wall and floor to ceiling (6:23-28).
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By maintaining continuity with the Mosaic tabernacle and its features
while also embellishing and aggrandizing those features, Solomon made it
clear that He regarded the temple as the fulfillment of what the portable
tabernacle had signified and anticipated. It wasn’t a new sanctuary as
such, but the earthly consummation of the previous sanctuary. Solomon’s
temple was the realization of the Davidic Covenant’s pledge of a
permanent house for Yahweh, but it also fulfilled the Lord’s promise of a
central sanctuary. Both of these promises had their historical and
covenantal presupposition in the Mosaic tabernacle.
3)
Finally, Solomon’s consecration of the temple and his prayer of petition
and blessing have great typological significance. Reminiscent of his
father’s actions in bringing the ark to Jerusalem, when the temple
construction was complete Solomon presided over the transfer of the ark
from its tent in the City of David to its new residence in the permanent
sanctuary on Mount Zion. As David before him, Solomon marked this
solemn processional with sacrifices to the Lord (ref. 2 Samuel 6:12-18),
but, in his case, more sacrifices than could be numbered (8:5).
Also like his father, Solomon concluded the holy ritual of bringing the ark
into the Holy of Holies with a priestly benediction upon the sons of Israel
(cf. 2 Samuel 6:18 with 1 Kings 8:6-14). He then interceded for the people
before the Lord with a long prayer of praise and petition. The fact that this
prayer is recorded almost identically in Kings and Chronicles indicates its
importance to the larger storyline, and yet many regard it merely as a case
study in intercessory prayer or a proof-text for a supposed cause-andeffect relationship between corporate repentance and divine blessing. The
latter is behind the use of 2 Chronicles 7:14 as the theme verse for the
National Day of Prayer – a day devoted to nationwide penitence in prayer
with the goal that God would “hear from heaven” and “heal” America.
But once again, the key to this marvelous prayer is keeping it within its
salvation-historical context. Far from articulating a universal spiritual
maxim that any nation can apply to its own circumstance, Solomon was
speaking from the vantage point of his status as the Davidic seed
appointed to build Yahweh’s house. Set in the context of his dedication of
that sanctuary, Solomon’s prayer makes a significant contribution to the
developing concept of sacred space. For, viewed from the standpoint of
the overall trajectory and goal of salvation history (of which they’re a
part), Solomon’s actions reflect back on God’s ancient promise to restore
all things to Himself. In that sense, his prayer presupposed and drew upon
everything that had gone before it – not merely the Davidic Covenant, but
the Mosaic, Abrahamic and Adamic foundations of that covenant.
-
Thus Solomon opened his dedicatory prayer with praise to Yahweh
for His faithfulness in fulfilling His promise to David (8:23-24).
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-
As the Lord had “kept covenant” by seeing to it that David’s son
built Him a house in Jerusalem (2 Samuel 7:13), so Solomon
petitioned Him to show the same faithfulness with regard to His
promise to build David’s house (1 Kings 8:25-26).
-
Solomon’s opening praise and petition emphasize the temporal
aspects of the Davidic Covenant, but verses 8:27-30 show that he
also recognized that the covenant and its promises transcended
their earthly expressions: The house he had built for Yahweh was
nothing more than a material representation of His true dwelling
place. Solomon understood that, as the covenant looked to a
Davidic son beyond himself, so the sanctuary God had appointed
that son to build transcended the physical temple in Jerusalem.
-
The majority of Solomon’s prayer was concerned with the
interplay between repentance and deliverance/restoration (ref.
8:30-53). Essentially, Solomon was petitioning Yahweh to deal
with His covenant people in accordance with righteous mercy, and
this petition has great importance when viewed in relation to the
Davidic Covenant and the dedication of the temple:
Here the covenant son of David was standing as intercessor before
Yahweh in the place where He had determined to meet with His
people and pleading with Him to forgive and restore them to
Himself as they turned to Him in humble, penitent faith.
The salvation-historical significance of Solomon’s petition is all
the more profound in that he extended its reach beyond the people
of Israel to the nations of the earth (vv. 41-43). Solomon sought for
all mankind the same merciful reception at the Lord’s sanctuary
that he sought for Israel. He prayed that the Lord would forgive
and receive all who came to Him in repentant and dependent faith.
In Solomon’s prophetic conception, Yahweh’s house – built by the
son of David – was to be a place of forgiveness, cleansing and
refuge for all the nations (cf. Isaiah 56:1-8 with 11:10 and
Zechariah 6:9-15; also John 2:13-21, 4:19-24 with 1 Peter 2:4-6).
-
After he finished praying Solomon stood and blessed the people in
the name of the Lord. Notably, he blessed them by proclaiming the
blessedness of their covenant God: Israel’s blessing consisted in
the fact that God had chosen them to be His people and given them
His great and manifold promises, none of which He had failed to
keep. Yahweh’s hesed – not Israel’s strength or even its
faithfulness – had secured the nation’s peace and rest (8:54-56).
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With his thoughts fixed upon the Lord’s history of unwavering
faithfulness to His people, Solomon held the sons of Israel up to
Him with the confident hope that He would continue to be with
them, thereby leading them to know, love and serve Him. In that
way they would fulfill their calling as Abraham’s offspring: Israel’s
faithful devotion would cause all the people of the earth to know
that Yahweh is the one true God (vv. 57-59).
4)
The Lord responded to Solomon’s intercession and benediction by
reaffirming His covenant with David, specifically as it involved the twofold promise of a house: He would put His name forever in the house built
for Him by the Davidic seed (cf. 1 Kings 9:1-3; 8:28-29), and He would
likewise establish the house He promised to David (cf. 9:4-5; 8:25-26).
At the same time, Yahweh made it clear that His faithfulness to these two
houses was contingent upon the faithfulness of the Davidic kingship:
Should Solomon or his regal sons depart from Him to follow other gods,
He would surely cut off David’s dynasty and kingdom and reject the
Jerusalem sanctuary (9:6-9). Here again the tension between judgment and
promise comes to the forefront: Immediately after pledging Himself to an
unending commitment to His house (v. 3) the Lord promised to reject it if
David’s seed turned away from Him.
On the one hand, the decline in David’s house had already begun and was
to be escalated in Solomon; the Davidic kingship would indeed depart
from Yahweh and His threatened punishment would be realized in the
destruction of the temple and Israel’s captivity. On the other hand, the
Lord would uphold His promise of everlasting commitment to His house.
The resolution of this apparent contradiction finds a clue in Solomon’s
previous observation (8:27): The destruction of the Jerusalem temple
didn’t mean the overthrow of the promise, for Yahweh’s commitment was
to His true sanctuary – the spiritual reality of sacred space that the
physical sanctuary only symbolized (ref. Exodus 25:1-9).
b.
And so, even as Solomon’s work and prayer indicated his status as the son of the
promise, Yahweh’s response reinforced his share in the judgment pronounced on
David’s house. The retributive sword that was introduced during David’s reign
was being wielded against Solomon’s house and kingdom (ref. 1 Kings 2:13-34).
c.
Most importantly, Solomon’s failures pointed to the need for another Davidic son
to fulfill the covenant promise. Though Solomon was the initial referent of the
promise, he, too, ruled according to the “procedure of the king,” exploiting his
subjects (12:1-4) and seeking his own well-being and personal ends in disregard
of Yahweh (11:1-40). Moreover, by multiplying his wealth, horses and wives
Solomon violated the regal ideal set forth by Moses (cf. 10:26-11:3; Deuteronomy
17:14-20). Like David, Solomon only anticipated the promised King of Israel.
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13.
The Decline and Demise of David’s Kingdom – The Northern Kingdom of Israel
In carrying out His judgment against David’s house, Yahweh first brought the sword of
death and destruction upon David’s immediate household. But it was not to stop there.
Absalom’s vengeful designs upon his father’s life and kingdom infected David’s
theocratic house, poisoning the minds even of the elders of Israel who had previously
served David with faithful devotion (2 Samuel 17:1-4). Though Absalom’s attempt to
seize the kingdom was successfully resisted and David was restored to the throne of
Israel, his actions demonstrated that the sword had moved beyond the walls of the palace;
more than that, it signaled the beginning of the end of David’s kingdom.
Yahweh’s judgment meant the desolation of David’s house, but His covenant promised a
Davidic son who would build His house. Because of Solomon’s typological role as the
first referent of that promise, God held the kingdom together throughout his reign. For the
Davidic Covenant presupposed and furthered Yahweh’s ancient oath to recover sacred
space as first portrayed in the Garden; thus it was necessary that the son of David build
the Lord’s sanctuary in the context of shabbat and shalom, expressed in Solomon’s
kingdom in its supernatural prosperity, security, and peace (1 Kings 4:21-34, 10:21-27).
a.
But after Solomon’s death the decline of the Israelite theocracy accelerated. The
first development was the division of David’s kingdom into the two subkingdoms of Israel and Judah. The former consisted of the northern ten Israelite
tribes while the latter consisted of the tribes of Judah and Benjamin in the south.
Notably, it was the perpetuation of Solomon’s exploitative practices by his son
Rehoboam that provided the historical impetus for the fracturing of the kingdom.
Solomon had subjected the Israelites in the north to hard service (cf. 1 Kings
11:28, 12:18), and when they came together at Shechem to crown Rehoboam king
they petitioned him to lighten their load. Solomon’s counselors instructed the new
king to heed their request, but Rehoboam chose to listen to his own advisers and
the result was disastrous. Learning what lay ahead for them under the Davidic
king, the northern tribes realized they “had no portion in David” and determined
to form their own kingdom under the rule of Jeroboam (12:1-17).
Though brought about through Rehoboam’s willful determination to continue his
father’s mistreatment, this turn of events was from the Lord (12:15). He had
previously revealed His intention to Jeroboam (11:26-39) and when Solomon
learned of it, rather than humbling himself before Yahweh, he sought to put
Jeroboam to death. But now that Solomon was dead, Jeroboam returned from his
exile in Egypt to lead the northern tribes in their secession from David’s kingdom.
When Rehoboam realized what was happening he immediately set out to recover
his kingdom by force. But as he prepared his army to go out against the ten tribes,
the Lord sent a prophet to warn him that this outcome was His doing (12:21-25).
This fracturing of Israel was bigger than his own kingship; it was part of
Yahweh’s determined judgment against David’s house (ref. 11:34-39, 12:18).
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b.
Rehoboam had brought disaster upon his grandfather’s kingdom, but so would his
counterpart Jeroboam. Set in sharp contrast to the Lord’s instruction and promise
to him (11:29-38), the very first accomplishment of Jeroboam’s reign recorded in
the Kings text was his wholesale departure from the God of Israel (12:25-33).
Jeroboam knew the Law’s commandment that all Israelite males were to appear
before Yahweh three times a year (Exodus 23:14-17) and this meant journeying to
Jerusalem and the Lord’s sanctuary there. Terrified that this would result in his
subjects defecting back to Rehoboam, the king determined to build new altars to
Yahweh at Dan and Bethel in the north of Israel. He would ordain his own
priesthood so that his subjects could now fulfill their obligation to God without
leaving the boundaries of his kingdom.
This foundational act of apostasy is henceforth referred to in the Scripture as “the
sin of Jeroboam, the son of Nebat” and the rule of every subsequent king of Israel
would be measured against it (cf. 15:25-26, 33-34, 16:13, 18-19, 25-26, 29-31;
etc.). As a defining act of high-handed defiance, Jeroboam’s sin set the tone and
course for the northern kingdom from that day forward; despite repeated
entreaties from the Lord’s prophets, no king in Israel would depart from it until
the very day of His great indignation (ref. 13:1-10, 33-34; also 2 Kings 17:21-23).
The text is emphatic in presenting Jeroboam’s sin as defining and determining the
sub-kingdom of Israel as an apostate nation, and two things about that sin are
particularly significant:
1)
The first is that it effectively brought an end to Israel’s central sanctuary.
No sooner had this promise been fulfilled in the Jerusalem temple than it
was overthrown by Jeroboam’s altars at Dan and Bethel. Israel was to
meet its covenant Father at His dwelling place – at the house where He
had put His name – and the Jerusalem sanctuary was that place (ref. again
8:10-20, 9:3). Thus it didn’t matter if Jeroboam dedicated his altars to
Yahweh (12:28; cf. Exodus 32:4); His glory-presence didn’t reside there
and so Israel’s worship amounted to idolatry (Deuteronomy 12:1-14).
David had sought to build a house for the Lord in fulfillment of His
promise of a central sanctuary. He recognized that a permanent dwelling
place for Israel’s King was commensurate with the idea of an established,
everlasting kingdom and this is why his desire was met with the Lord’s
pledges in the Davidic Covenant. The promised sanctuary had been built
but the law of the central sanctuary was not being fulfilled. This, too,
highlighted the fact that the Israelite theocracy had failed to realize the
kingdom promised to Abraham.
Beyond that, Jeroboam’s altars indirectly testified to the imperfection of
Solomon’s temple. It could not fulfill the promise of a central sanctuary
for Yahweh’s people because it didn’t draw all men to itself.
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2)
Second, Jeroboam’s foundational sin was the origin of the conspicuous
absence of a dynasty in the northern kingdom. Jeroboam’s own dynastic
house was severed because of what he had done (ref. 13:33-14:11, 15:2530), and the same pattern continued with numerous other kings of Israel.
Reflecting the nation’s apostate condition, intrigue, conspiracy, murder
and coup marked the Israelite throne, just as it always has the kingdoms of
this world (cf. 16:1-13, 21:17-22; 2 Kings 15:8-31).
The lack of a royal dynasty in Israel implied the lack of a legitimate
kingship, which, in turn, indicated the illegitimacy of the northern
kingdom itself. By his flagrant rebellion Jeroboam had rejected the Lord’s
promise of a house and kingdom (ref. again 1 Kings 11:37-38), rendering
the entire historical existence of Israel (as a sub-kingdom) a matter of
apostate pretense. Israel had rejected Yahweh, but it had also rejected
David and his dynastic rule. Together these two things showed that Israel
was not an expression of the kingdom of God.
But more than this, by fracturing David’s house God had effectively put
an end to the kingdom promised to Abraham – the kingdom brought to its
pinnacle earthly expression under David’s rule. Though the house of
David continued in the southern kingdom of Judah, it did so only in a
greatly diminished and weakened form.
c.
The life of the sub-kingdom of Israel was ordered around three distinct historical
phases, all of which focused on its relationship with the house of David as
manifested in the nation of Judah.
The initial phase that began with Jeroboam’s reign was characterized by open and
ongoing conflict between Israel and Judah; according to the Lord’s word, the
sword of retribution was continuing to fall upon David’s theocratic house. Israel’s
rejection of David’s house – both his dynasty and his dominion (ref. again 1
Kings 12:16) was the very foundation of its emergence as a separate nation, and
from that point Jeroboam’s entire reign as Israel’s first king was marked by
warfare between his kingdom and Rehoboam’s in the south (14:30, 15:6). This
enmity continued until the reign of Ahab (ref. 15:16).
Among all the kings of Israel, the Kings record affords the most narrative space to
Ahab (1 Kings 16:29-22:40). The reasons for this are all associated with his
unique notoriety and the impact of his reign on the northern Israelite kingdom.
Ahab’s reign brought Israel to the low point of its apostasy as epitomized in the
influence of his wife Jezebel. A Sidonian princess who was determined to
establish Baal as the chief god of her husband’s kingdom, Jezebel attempted to
eradicate all knowledge and worship of Yahweh in Israel. The extent to which she
succeeded is indicated by Elijah’s sense – at a low point in his own life – that he
was the only man left in Israel who remained faithful to the Lord (ref. 19:1-18).
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Elijah was uniquely important among Israel’s prophets in that he served the Lord
at the critical point of decision for Israel. Through the combined influences of its
kings and its present queen Jezebel, Israel had reached bottom in its relationship
with Yahweh. It wasn’t that the nation had rejected Him entirely; it simply
divided its allegiance, apportioning it to other gods believed to be capable of
serving the people’s well-being. At the same time, Ahab – whose reign was
overtly set against Yahweh – had formed a marriage alliance with Jehoshaphat,
king of Judah (cf. 2 Chronicles 18:1, 9). In an act of profound irony, the king who
had done so much to separate his kingdom from David’s God had now realigned
it with David’s house. This reunion marked the second phase of Israel’s history.
Israel’s national double-mindedness was epitomized in the political posture of its
ruler, and it was this intolerable duplicity that provided the occasion for Elijah’s
confrontation with Israel and the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel (18:1-40).
Israel’s political reconnection with David’s kingdom called for its theocratic
counterpart; Israel was in need of a wholehearted return to the Lord of David’s
kingdom. Elijah put the nation to the test and it failed. In spite of Yahweh’s
visible, supernatural triumph on Mount Carmel, the northern kingdom continued
to follow the course it had previously chosen. Its moment of opportunity for
repentance had passed; all that remained between Israel and desolation was time.
The alliance between Ahab and Jehoshaphat also spoke to this same opportunity
but, like Carmel, it, too, failed: The triumph at Carmel hadn’t turned Israel back to
Yahweh and neither would its reunion with the house of David. Far from drawing
Israel back from its apostasy, Athaliah’s marriage to Jehoram served only to
further infect David’s remaining kingdom with her parents’ fatal disease.
In every sense this had been an unholy union (2 Chronicles 21:1-6). It pressed
Judah deeper into its own apostasy and failed to prevent renewed hostilities. In
this final phase Israel attempted to directly overthrow David’s house and set a
king of its own choosing on his throne. This was the historical setting of the
Immanuel prophecy of Isaiah 7-12 by which Yahweh reaffirmed His commitment
to David’s house and kingdom. Ahaz, king of Judah, feared the combined threat
of Israel and Aram and so formed his own alliance with the king of Assyria. But
Ahaz’ fears expressed a lack of faith in Yahweh and His promise to David: The
principle of Immanuel insured that no assault on David’s house would succeed
(cf. 7:1-14, 8:1-10). To the contrary, Israel’s design to overthrow David’s house
and throne sealed its own destruction (cf. Isaiah 8:1-7 with 2 Kings 17:1-18).
Israel’s existence and history were defined by opposition to David’s house. Even when it
was allied with Judah, Israel effectively opposed it through its apostatizing influence.
Yahweh’s response was to give Israel over to destruction; while a remnant from Judah
would be restored from captivity, Israel’s restoration awaited the Davidic seed. In an
amazing twist, this true “David” would restore Israel to Yahweh, at the same time
reuniting it with Judah (cf. Hosea 1-3; Jeremiah 30-33). Much more, that reunion was to
find its full glory in the reunification of the whole human race (Isaiah 11:1-13, 19:18-25).
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14.
The Decline and Demise of David’s Kingdom – The Southern Kingdom of Judah
Rehoboam’s decision to follow in his father’s footsteps was used by the Lord to fulfill
His determination to cut David’s kingdom into two pieces. While David’s dynasty and
throne continued in the southern kingdom of Judah (comprised of the tribes of Judah and
Benjamin with the capital at Jerusalem), the Davidic kingdom had been reduced to only a
faint glimmer of its former glory. There was no doubt that the Lord was still wielding the
sword of judgment against David’s house.
In many ways both of the Israelite sub-kingdoms led very similar existences: Both
followed the same general path of apostasy and both met with the same outcomes of
desolation and captivity. But, whereas Israel was characterized from the beginning as an
apostate entity in rebellion against David’s house and kingdom (and therefore a kingdom
set against Yahweh Himself), the southern kingdom of Judah enjoyed periods of relative
faithfulness and restoration from waywardness. Unlike Israel, Judah had several kings
whose reign was characterized by relative obedience to Yahweh’s covenant.
Nevertheless, as Jeroboam had done in the north, Rehoboam set the overall tone for the
remnant of David’s kingdom in the south (1 Kings 14:21-24) and, in the end, the Lord
condemned Judah as more vile and guilty than her sister Israel (cf. Ezekiel 16, 23). While
most of Israel’s kings simply followed the “sin of Jeroboam” in worshipping Yahweh in
connection with the calves at Dan and Bethel, the majority of Judah’s kings followed
Rehoboam in devoting themselves to the gods of Canaan. Only Asa, Jehoshaphat,
Uzziah, Jotham, Hezekiah, and Josiah directly promoted the worship of Yahweh.
Because the three main epochs in the life of the northern kingdom were defined by its
relationship with Judah in the south, Israel’s history provides insight into the progress of
Judah’s existence leading up to its own destruction and captivity.
a.
The pattern established by Rehoboam continued until the reign of his grandson
Asa. Asa not only removed the idols and cult prostitutes associated with his father
and grandfather, he stripped his own mother of her royal status because she had
made an Asherah image. Though he failed to remove the high places scattered
throughout Judah, the text records that his heart was sincerely devoted to Yahweh
all his days (1 Kings 15:9-15).
b.
Jehoshaphat continued the devotion of his father Asa, but, like him, his reign was
not without blemish. He allied himself with the notorious Ahab, giving his son to
Ahab’s daughter in marriage (ref. again 2 Kings 8:16-18; 2 Chronicles 18:1). This
alliance drew Jehoshaphat into battle with Israel against the Arameans – a battle
which, in spite of Ahab’s guile, resulted in his death just as the prophet Micaiah
had predicted (1 Kings 22:1-39; cf. 2 Chronicles 18:1-34). Later, after the death of
Ahab’s son Ahaziah, his brother Jehoram assumed the throne of Israel and once
again Jehoshaphat came to Israel’s assistance, this time in its war against Moab
(ref. 2 Kings 3:1-7). Despite his notable faithfulness (ref. 2 Chronicles 19-20),
Jehoshaphat’s reign was tarnished by his alliance with Ahab’s house (20:35-37).
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c.
Jehoshaphat had allied himself with Ahab and his house for political and
economic reasons, but that alliance ended up having huge religious and theocratic
implications for Judah. By taking Ahab’s daughter Athaliah to be his son’s wife,
Jehoshaphat effectively introduced Jezebel’s pagan and wicked influence into
Judah. For Athaliah was a virtual duplicate of her mother – controlled by the same
evil passions, devoted to the same godless and self-serving agenda, and able to
wield the same perverse influence over her husband (2 Chronicles 21:4-6).
When her son Ahaziah, king of Judah, and forty-two of his relatives were slain by
Jehu (2 Kings 9-10), Athaliah immediately saw her opportunity to seize the throne
for herself. Determined to eliminate everyone who could possibly threaten her
claim to the throne of Judah, she had all of the male members of Ahaziah’s house
put to death. The depth of her evil is seen in the fact that she was ordering the
murder of her own grandchildren. Athaliah’s infant grandson Joash (Jehoash)
alone was spared, and only because his aunt Jehoshabeath whisked him away and
hid him along with his nurse. For six years Joash was safely hidden from his
murderous grandmother, kept in the one place she had absolutely nothing to do
with, namely the temple in Jerusalem (2 Chronicles 22:1-12).
Athaliah’s actions were far more significant than simply an illegal and immoral
seizure of Judah’s throne. Yahweh had never endorsed a woman to reign over
David’s house and kingdom, but even if He had, Athaliah wasn’t a member of
David’s royal line. But more grievous than those offenses against the Lord, she
had attempted to put an end to David’s dynasty by killing all of Ahaziah’s sons.
As the queen of Israel, Jezebel had presided over a kingdom that originated with
and had been oriented toward opposition to David’s house, and now her daughter
was actively seeking to destroy that house. The gravity of Jehoshaphat’s
expedient political decision was that it nearly resulted in the destruction of his
father’s dynasty, and, with it, his kingdom. What he thought would serve the wellbeing of David’s kingdom came frightfully close to vanquishing it.
d.
In the seventh year of Athaliah’s rule the Davidic seed Joash was brought out of
hiding and crowned king of Judah in the temple courtyard in the presence of all
the people, the priests and Levites (2 Kings 11:1-12; cf. 2 Chronicles 24:1ff).
When Athaliah realized what was happening she rushed into the coronation
proceedings shouting the charge of treason. But despite her loud protest, Jehoiada
the priest commanded that she be taken captive and put to death away from the
Lord’s house (11:13-16). Slaying her in front of the temple would have been a
defiling act, but Athaliah’s removal also spoke symbolically of her having no
share in David’s kingdom as represented by Yahweh’s house in Jerusalem.
In tangible witness to the apostasy of their rules, the temple had come into
disrepair under Jehoram, Ahaziah and Athaliah and Joash undertook its
renovation. But he did so, not out of concern for the physical structure as such,
but as an act of faithfulness to the covenant Jehoiada made between Yahweh,
Judah and himself as the new king (11:17-12:16; 2 Chronicles 23:16-24:14).
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In the covenant, Jehoiada rededicated David’s house – his royal dynasty and
kingdom – to Yahweh and the sons of Judah responded by destroying the house of
Baal that had been built in Jerusalem along with its altars and images. They also
put Baal’s temple priest to death. Joash’s early rule was marked by faithfulness to
Yahweh, but his actions were notably only an expression of Jehoiada’s leadership
and piety. Joash was only seven years old when he assumed the throne of Judah
and he regarded Jehoiada – who had cared for him since infancy – as a father
figure and mentor. Thus when Jehoiada died Joash was left anchorless and began
to wander from the Lord (ref. 12:2). He sought out ungodly counselors and soon
conspired to put Jehoiada’s son to death. That act of murder resulted in Joash’s
assassination at the hands of his own servants (2 Chronicles 24:15-25).
e.
Joash’s inconsistent reign was subsequently duplicated in those of his son
(Amaziah) and grandson (Uzziah). In the case of Amaziah, the Chronicler notes
that “he did right in the sight of the Lord, but not with a whole heart” (25:1-2).
So, for instance, after deferring to godly counsel to reject Israel’s military
assistance against Edom and subsequently enjoying a spectacular victory over that
nation, Amaziah proceeded to bring the Edomite idols back to Jerusalem and
make them his own (25:5-14). The Lord’s response was to use Amaziah’s pride of
conquest to incite a war with Israel. This brought the Israelite-Judean alliance
(and the second epoch in their relationship) to an end and reinitiated the conflict
between the two Israelite kingdoms. The outcome was that Israel gave Judah a
humiliating defeat; though Amaziah was allowed to live and continue his reign,
the king of Israel tore down part of the wall surrounding Jerusalem and took the
precious articles of the temple and Amaziah’s palace back to Samaria (25:17-24).
Uzziah likewise served Yahweh inconsistently. In large part he sought the Lord
and adhered to His covenant, but he also strayed from Him. Uzziah is best known
for his reckless act of entering the temple and burning incense on the altar. Not
only did he exceed his station, he became enraged when the priests confronted
him. God responded by smiting Uzziah with leprosy and, to the day of his death,
he remained in isolation with his son Jotham acting in his behalf (26:1-5, 16-21).
f.
Jotham ruled as a faithful son of David but was unable to turn around Judah’s
advancing apostasy (27:1-9). In that sense Jotham’s son Ahaz was a “man after
Judah’s heart,” for he followed in the ways of the kings of Israel, even leading
Judah to worship Baal as Jezebel had done. But his sin was far worse: Ahaz
brought Judah’s apostasy to a low point by reviving an ancient pagan practice
that even the godless kings of Israel didn’t embrace. He erected an altar outside
Jerusalem to the Canaanite deity Molech and sacrificed his sons there (28:1-4).
As with Jeroboam in Israel, Ahaz’ idolatry set a precedent that came to epitomize
Judah’s apostasy and the propriety of its desolation (cf. Leviticus 20:1-5;
Jeremiah 7:1-34, 19:1-13, 32:26-35). In retribution, God sent the Syrian-Israelite
coalition against Judah and it handed David’s house a crushing defeat. In fear for
his throne, Ahaz formed his own alliance with the king of Assyria (28:5-19).
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Ahaz bribed Tiglath-pileser to come to his defense and, after the Assyrian army
had conquered the Arameans (Syrians) on his behalf, Ahaz traveled to Damascus
to meet the Assyrian king. When he saw the great altar there he determined to
have a replica built in Jerusalem; the gods of the Arameans had given them much
success and Ahaz sought to gain their help for himself. In that way he supplanted
Yahweh with the gods of the nations (2 Kings 16:1-18; 2 Chronicles 28:22-25).
It was in this context of religious and theocratic apostasy that Isaiah proclaimed
the Immanuel prophecy to Ahaz (ref. Isaiah 7-11). This prophecy was previously
considered in relation to the northern kingdom and its desolation, but it equally
concerned the kingdom of Judah. For at the heart of the prophecy was Yahweh’s
promise to preserve the house of David. No enemy, however formidable, would
be able to overthrow that house because of His faithfulness to David.
Ahaz lived to see the Lord deliver Jerusalem from the Syrian-Israelite alliance
(ref. 2 Kings 16:5-17:6), but the promised deliverance from the Assyrians would
not occur until the reign of his son Hezekiah. At that time, while Sennacherib’s
army was moving through the cities of Judah on its way to Jerusalem, Yahweh’s
angel went through the Assyrian camp at night and silently killed 185,000 of its
soldiers. Horrified at what he saw and finding no explanation, Sennacherib
quickly assembled the remainder of his army and led them back to his own
country (cf. 2 Kings 18-19; 2 Chronicles 32:1-22; Isaiah 36-37).
g.
In spite of Ahaz’ horrendous offense, Yahweh delivered David’s house from the
hand of the Assyrians as He had promised (ref. again Isaiah 7:1-8:10). But
Judah’s incorrigible apostasy demanded that it, too, suffer the fate of its sister in
the north. Assyria would not prevail against Jerusalem and David’s house, but its
successor Babylon would. In 605 B.C. Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon,
initiated Judah’s final destruction. The Egyptian pharaoh had already deposed
Jehoahaz and set his brother Jehoiakim on Judah’s throne as a vassal king. Four
years later Nebuchadnezzar came to Jerusalem and began his harassment of
Judah. Jehoiakim’s son Jehoiachin succeeded him, but after only three months he,
too, was taken to Babylon and Nebuchadnezzar appointed his uncle Zedekiah as
his vassal king in Jerusalem (ref. 2 Chronicles 36:1-10). This appointment –
though unknown to Nebuchadnezzar – complied with Yahweh’s judgment against
David’s dynasty: Jehoiachin was to be the last of the line of Davidic kings; no
descendent of his would ever sit on David’s throne (Jeremiah 22:24-30).
David’s dynasty was severed, and the end of his kingdom was at hand. Warned to
yield himself and his kingdom to Babylon’s yoke, Zedekiah decided after nine
years to revolt. Nebuchadnezzar responded by surrounding Jerusalem and cutting
off its supply. Before long, starving and plagued with disease as the Lord had
threatened from the beginning (cf. Deuteronomy 28:45ff; Jeremiah 19:1-9;
Ezekiel 5:1-12), Jerusalem could no longer withstand the Babylonian siege.
Breaking through its walls, the Babylonian army burned the city and its temple to
the ground. The sword promised against David’s house had completed its work.
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15.
The Aftermath of Desolation - Exile and Symbolic Restoration
With the fall of Jerusalem in 586 B.C. the Davidic kingdom had come to its decreed end.
Not only was David’s theocratic house in ruins – expressed most powerfully in the
demolition of Yahweh’s sanctuary, the Lord had severed his dynastic house. Even if the
Israelite nation could possibly be restored to Canaan and the temple rebuilt, without the
continuance of David’s royal line there could be no true recovery of David’s kingdom.
And yet the Lord’s prophets were emphatic that He would never renounce His covenant
with David or depart from His faithfulness to him. This central theme in the prophetic
proclamation is significant given the fact that the writing prophets emerged following the
fracturing of David’s kingdom under Rehoboam. The mere existence of Israel in the
north and Judah in the south testified to the continuing presence of Yahweh’s sword in
David’s house, and both sub-kingdoms were moving inexorably toward destruction and
captivity. Moses’ warning to the sons of Israel on the plains of Moab was coming to
realization and neither house of Israel would be spared.
Division, decline and impending destruction characterized the Israelite kingdom at the
time the writing prophets (Major and Minor Prophets) came on the scene and their
message reflected that state of affairs. Each of the pre-exile prophets brought the same
double proclamation to their respective audience: On the one hand, Yahweh’s day of
patience and petition had ended; both houses of Israel would indeed go into captivity. On
the other hand, this complete desolation of David’s kingdom would not spell the end of
the promises contained in the Davidic Covenant. The God of unrelenting hesed would not
forsake his mercies to David; His covenant promises would not go unrealized.
This was the uniform witness of the prophets preceding the exile, but in Jeremiah’s case
the dilemma was worsened (and the corresponding need for faith heightened). For
Jeremiah revealed that, not only was the house of David – then localized in the southern
kingdom of Judah – to follow its northern sister into destruction and exile, the Lord had
also determined to cut off David’s dynasty forever (ref. again Jeremiah 22:24-30). If the
complete physical destruction of the Israelite kingdom seemed to make the fulfillment of
the Davidic Covenant difficult, the severing of David’s royal line appeared to make it
utterly impossible. How could Yahweh fulfill His promise to forever establish David’s
throne and kingdom in his son when his royal line had been severed?
-
The only apparent resolution was that the son promised in the covenant would not
come from the line of Davidic kings, but from an entirely different line of descent
originating with David. This was certainly possible since David had other sons.
-
But if this were God’s intention, then He had misstated His promise to David. For
under this circumstance it simply wasn’t true that David’s throne and kingdom –
which had been initiated in himself and perpetuated through his royal line
descending from Solomon – were to be established forever. The actual truth was
that a different Davidic kingdom was to emerge in the future grounded in a
different Davidic dynasty.
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a.
Despite appearances, God’s word to David was sure; in keeping with it, He
promised a Judean remnant would return to Canaan. Moreover, the temple would
be rebuilt and Jerusalem restored (Isaiah 44:24-28; cf. also 2 Chronicles 36:22-23;
Jeremiah 25:1-12, 29:10). Taken alone, the Jews could have construed these
promises as indicating the restoration of David’s kingdom after seventy years of
Babylonian captivity. The implication would then be that, though Yahweh’s
sword had desolated David’s house, it hadn’t destroyed it. But in order to leave no
doubt that the pre-exile kingdom was not going to be revived, the Lord cut off
David’s royal line. Without a Davidic king there could be no Davidic kingdom.
Thus, when the exiles returned to Jerusalem under Cyrus as Yahweh promised
and began to rebuild the temple, the post-exile prophets (Haggai and Zechariah)
were emphatic that that work didn’t signal an impending restoration of the
kingdom of Israel. Both indicated that the temple rebuilding process was only
another prefiguration of what the Lord had promised David (Haggai 2:1-9). The
Davidic Covenant specified that David’s seed would build Yahweh’s house; no
such seed existed at the time of the rebuilding of the temple and, based on the
Lord’s pronouncement to Jehoiachin, it seemed no such seed could arise in the
future. Nevertheless, Zechariah insisted that the Davidic son (“Branch”) would
indeed come and that He would build the Lord’s house as a priest-king – the
priest according to the order of Melchizedek (cf. Zechariah 6:9-15; Psalm 110).
A half-century later, a second and then a third group of Judean exiles returned to
Jerusalem during the reign of the Persian king Artaxerxes I (Esther’s step-son).
These episodes, recorded in the second half of Ezra (7:1ff) and the book of
Nehemiah, focused on the restoration of the Jerusalem community and the city
itself, epitomized in the reconstruction of the city walls. As with the rebuilding of
the temple, the restoration of David’s subjects and the seat of his (and Yahweh’s)
throne held out hope for the recovery of his kingdom, but still there was no
Davidic king ruling over his house. The temple and city had been rebuilt as
prophesied, but Israel existed as a powerless vassal state under Gentile dominion.
b.
Further indication that the above restorative events didn’t portend the revival of
David’s former kingdom is the fact of Israel’s continuing exile. David’s kingdom
had consisted of both houses of Israel (2 Samuel 5:1-5), and yet God had decreed
that only a remnant of Judah would return to Canaan. Like the true temple and the
kingdom itself, the restoration of the northern ten tribes awaited the coming of the
Davidic seed (cf. Isaiah 11:1-13; Jeremiah 30-33; Hosea 1-3).
The partial restoration promised by Isaiah and Jeremiah was realized, but the
prophets of the post-exile period were adamant that that recovery didn’t fulfill
God’s promise to David. In this way they were affirming the prophets who
preceded them. For, long before the exile of Israel and Judah, the prophets were
proclaiming that the coming kingdom, while portrayed by the Israelite theocracy,
would introduce an entirely new order of things: a comprehensive renewal of the
whole created order by means of the redeeming work of the Davidic Branch.
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c.
Another important, but often overlooked, indication that the Davidic theocracy
was gone forever was the conspicuous absence of Yahweh’s Shekinah from the
second temple (ref. Ezra 6:13-18). Despite the fact that the temple was rebuilt and
refurnished, there is notably no mention of the ark subsequent to the Babylonian
desolation of Jerusalem. The text’s silence regarding the ark is consistent with its
silence regarding the restoration of Yahweh’s presence to the second temple.
The descent of Yahweh’s glory-cloud had culminated Israel’s construction of the
tabernacle. By this visible manifestation the Lord was attesting His fulfillment of
His promises to the patriarchs and their seed (Israel). For at the heart of the
Abrahamic Covenant – first fulfilled in relation to Abraham’s physical seed in
connection with the Sinai Covenant – was Yahweh’s promise to be the God of
Abraham and His descendents. He promised to take them to Himself and dwell
with them by bringing them to the place of His own habitation (cf. Genesis 17:1-8
with Exodus 15:17 and 25:1-9). All of Canaan was Yahweh’s holy habitation, but
His presence was localized in His sanctuary above the wings of the cherubim.
This same phenomenon was repeated later when the promise of a permanent
central sanctuary was fulfilled in the Jerusalem temple. After the priests placed
the ark of the covenant in the Holy of Holies and departed, the glory-cloud of the
Lord’s presence again descended and filled the temple (1 Kings 8:1-11).
The Scripture makes much of the Lord’s glory-presence in His sanctuary, and the
reason is that it represented Yahweh’s intimacy with His covenant son and
therefore His faithfulness to His promise to Abraham. The Lord’s Shekinah in the
Holy of Holies signified that He had kept His promise to dwell with Abraham’s
seed as a Father. Beyond that, it testified that He had not forgotten or forsaken His
ancient oath in Eden to overcome His estrangement from Adam’s seed.
The covenantal/relational significance of the Shekinah explains why the Lord
used a vision of His glory departing from the temple to communicate to His priest
Ezekiel (who, along with many others, was already in exile in Babylon) the
gravity of Judah’s impending desolation and captivity (Ezekiel 10:1-11:23). The
vision indicated that the city where Yahweh had put His name was now empty of
His presence and His sanctuary had been reduced to a meaningless religious relic.
David’s kingdom was ichabod: the glory had departed from Israel.
Thus the irony of Judah’s conviction that Jerusalem would not fall by virtue of
God’s presence there. The temple still stood, but the people couldn’t see what
Ezekiel did: Yahweh had already departed His sanctuary; Jerusalem with its focal
point in the temple had become an unclean place and would be destroyed (Ezekiel
24:1-27). The holiness of Jerusalem and its temple was due to the Lord’s presence
there; without it they were no more holy than Sodom or Babylon. The returning
exiles rebuilt the temple on Mount Zion, but the Lord didn’t restore His presence
to it. The divine glory would return to the sanctuary when Yahweh Himself – not
His glory-cloud – came to it (Malachi 3:1-4; cf. Isaiah 4:2-6; Jeremiah 3:12-18).
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16.
The Promise of Recovery – A New Davidic Kingdom
All of Israel’s writing prophets were consistent in their proclamation that David’s
kingdom was appointed for destruction. The passing of the centuries saw the
development of this message of desolation and the divided nation’s progress toward that
destiny. But along with their warning of unavoidable destruction the prophets also
proclaimed Yahweh’s enduring promise of restoration. He would indeed make desolate
David’s house and kingdom and yet His covenant with David would one day be fulfilled.
With the recovery of a Judean remnant from exile and the rebuilding of Jerusalem and its
temple, the indication was that David’s kingdom was beginning to be restored. All
physical signs pointed toward that conclusion, but there remained the troubling fact of the
severing of David’s dynasty: How could his kingdom be authentically restored if there
were no royal Davidic seed to sit upon his throne in Jerusalem?
The post-exile prophets took note of this dilemma and used the absence of a Davidic king
to substantiate their contention that the recovery then being experienced by the restored
remnant didn’t in any way constitute the beginning of the fulfillment of God’s promise to
David. Not only was there no son of David on the throne at that time, it appeared there
could be no such king in the future because of the Lord’s curse on Jehoiachin’s line.
But beyond the empty throne, the restored remnant should have known that their present
circumstance didn’t indicate the recovery of the theocratic kingdom because of the way
the prophets had spoken of the promised Davidic kingdom. The Lord would establish
David’s house and throne and set his son over his kingdom just as the covenant promised,
but that kingdom was to be of an entirely different sort than the Israelite theocracy.
a.
First of all, the prophets proclaimed it to be an everlasting kingdom, just as
Yahweh Himself had indicated in His covenant with David (2 Samuel 7:12-16). It
would be unending precisely because it wouldn’t depend in any way on its
subjects for either its institution or its continuance. Like its predecessor, this
kingdom would be governed by a covenant defining the relationship between
Yahweh and His people, but this time the conformity of the sons of the kingdom
would be absolute since the demands of sonship would be met in them rather than
by them. This kingdom would endure forever because of the unfailing
righteousness of its citizens – the righteousness of the Lord Himself given to
them (cf. Isaiah 32:1-18, 54:1-56:8, 59:1-60:22; Jeremiah 31:31-40, 32:36-41;
Ezekiel 37:15-28, 43:1-9; Daniel 2:1-45, 7:9-28; Joel 3:1-21; Micah 4:1-8; etc.).
b.
So also the revelation of the coming Davidic king showed the promised kingdom
to be distinct from the Israelite theocracy. The cursing of David’s dynasty pointed
to this truth, but the prophets made it explicit by revealing that this Seed would
rule over Yahweh’s kingdom as a king-priest. The structure of the theocracy had
established an unbridgeable separation between Israel’s kings and priests, so that
the conjoining of those offices in one man indicated a new covenant and therefore
a new kind of kingdom (cf. Psalm 110; Zechariah 6:9-15; Hebrews 5:1-9:15).
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The promise was bound up in the person of David, but set out the hope of a new
David: a son, king, and shepherd who would succeed where David had failed.
This latter “David” – the son pledged in the covenant – was to be the antitypical
fulfillment of the first David, and therefore the Scripture unapologetically refers
to Him under that name (cf. Jeremiah 30-33; Ezekiel 34, 37 and Hosea 3).
c.
The issue of divine/human relationship provides another proof of the uniqueness
of the promised kingdom. That this kingdom would be everlasting points to the
perpetually perfect righteousness of its citizens, even as Israel’s unrighteousness
brought the end of the Israelite kingdom. But righteousness is a relational
concept, evident from man’s nature as image-son and the fact that covenant – as
the formal criterion of human righteousness – is itself preeminently relational.
God first revealed the relational nature of His kingdom by the creation episode
itself. The very essence of the concept of the “kingdom of God” is divine rule
being exercised over the created order through man, the image-son. The CreatorFather rules in the context of intimate communion with His human son. This same
kingdom dynamic was later portrayed in a more thorough way in the Israelite
theocracy. In that manifestation of the kingdom, Israel as the collective “son of
God” was appointed to manifest and administer Yahweh’s rule in the earth,
thereby leading all the nations to know Him and enter into His blessing. So the
true kingdom Yahweh promised to Abraham and later reaffirmed to David was to
be one in which the intimacy He had initiated in Eden and portrayed symbolically
in the Israelite theocracy would be realized authentically, fully and everlastingly.
The curse of estrangement that came upon the creation because of human unbelief
and disobedience had only been symbolically removed in the Israelite kingdom:
As He promised, Yahweh brought His covenant son to dwell with Him in His
sanctuary-land (Exodus 15:17-18, 25:1-8), but no true intimacy was achieved.
Though the Lord was a Father to His “son” throughout the life of the theocracy,
the son had persisted in the unbelief and rebellion that characterize estrangement.
And so, though spoken of in the language and forms of the Israelite kingdom, the
true kingdom proclaimed by Yahweh’s prophets was not to be a glorified
reincarnation of David’s former kingdom. Rather than a new iteration (however
exalted) of the Israelite kingdom, it would be a new creational kingdom – a
kingdom characterized by the renewal of all things, including man. So also this
renewal wouldn’t be merely the recovery of the pre-Fall Edenic order, but the
ushering in of the consummate perfection that Eden portrayed and predicted.
When considered within the broader Old Testament revelation, the house and
throne promised to David are explicitly shown to transcend Israelite categories
and substance and assume cosmic proportions. For the son in whom David’s
house, throne and kingdom were to be established is the same individual through
whom Yahweh would bring about the comprehensive cataclysm of a new creation
(cf. Isaiah 11:1-9 with 65:1-66:23; also Hosea 2:1-3:5 and Amos 9:11-15).
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This new “David” wouldn’t emerge to revive His father’s kingdom – even in the
most gloriously conceivable fashion; rather, He would usher in the kingdom of
the everlasting new creation; the kingdom that would fulfill the Edenic mandate of
the dominion of the image-son in the intimate communion of shalom and shabbat.
The relational nature of the promised kingdom is further emphasized in the
prophets by their associating it with a restored and perfected priesthood. This
association is eminently appropriate in that, within the Israelite kingdom, the
priestly ministration was the appointed means for mediating the relationship
between Yahweh and His covenant son. The Sinai Covenant itself was the
relational instrument of the theocratic kingdom, but its administration depended
upon a mediating priesthood. Thus the Hebrews writer’s assertion that the Law
was founded upon the priesthood (7:11).
No Israelite could think of his relationship with God apart from the mediating
ministry of the Levitical priests, and so the sons of Israel would readily
understand the significance of the prophets presenting the future kingdom in
terms of a perfected priestly system: A perfected priesthood signified a perfected
relationship between Yahweh and His people. Among Israel’s prophets, this
association is nowhere more pronounced than in Ezekiel’s prophecy.
The reasons for this are found in Ezekiel’s status and place in salvation history.
Ezekiel was a priest who was taken to Babylon in 597 B.C. along with thousands
of others of Judah’s nobility and prominent figures (2 Kings 24:8-14). He was
Yahweh’s prophet to the exiles in Babylon during the eleven years leading up to
the final destruction of Jerusalem and its temple in 586 B.C. Being a priest, it was
fitting that the Lord’s various revelations to Ezekiel were largely constructed
around temple/sanctuary motifs:
-
The Lord’s self-revelation to Ezekiel came in the form of sanctuary scenes
in which He presented Himself as enthroned in the midst of His attending
angels (ref. 1:1-28, 10:1-22).
-
So also the reasons God gave for Judah’s destruction and desolation all
converged on the nation’s gross, unashamed and unrelenting violation of
His sanctuary and His worship (ref. 5:1-11, 6:1-14, 7:20, 8:1-18, 13:114:8, 16:1-59, 20:1-31, 23:1-49, etc.).
-
Given the relational nature of Judah’s offense, it was appropriate that
Yahweh’s punishing wrath was directed at Jerusalem – the place where
He had put His name in order to meet with His people – and the temple
itself as His symbolic dwelling place. At the ordained time the city of the
great God and its sacred house were burned and torn down, but not before
Yahweh had removed His presence from them. The covenant son’s
punishment was not physical desolation as such, but the Father’s rejection
and departure (ref. 7:21-22, 8:5-6, 9:1-11, 10:1-22, 11:14-25, 24:1-27).
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The revelatory significance of this sanctuary/worship emphasis is that the Israelite
nation had violated its covenant responsibility of filial devotion. Judah’s offense
(as Israel’s in the north) wasn’t disobedience to a sterile set of laws; prophet,
priest, king and people alike had despised and denounced their covenant Father,
hurting Him by their adulterous hearts and eyes (6:9) and insulting and degrading
Him by pursuing their false deities and foreign paramours (16:1-29, 23:1-49).
As Ezekiel addressed Israel’s offense and punishment in relational terms, he did
the same with respect to its forgiveness and restoration. A constant refrain in his
prophecy – and one that is nearly unique to him – is the declaration: “Then you
will know that I am Yahweh.” This statement occurs fifty-five times in some form
in Ezekiel’s prophecy, and it serves to powerfully highlight two key truths.
The first is that the seed of Abraham and house of David had brought destruction
and exile upon themselves because, for all their privilege, they had not known
their covenant Father. Their entire existence as Yahweh’s “son” had been defined
and determined by estrangement, and now He had openly attested that
estrangement by departing from them and casting them out of His sanctuary-land.
And yet, estrangement wasn’t to be the last word. Yahweh’s punishing wrath had
its goal in purgation and restoration: His retribution would culminate in His
imparting true, inward knowledge of Himself to a new global people. This was
the heart of His promise of a new covenant (Jeremiah 31:31-34) to be enacted in
connection with the new David (Isaiah 11:1-10; cf. Jeremiah 30-33).
The thrust of Ezekiel’s prophecy is that violated relationship – expressive of
man’s continuing estrangement from God – had brought judgment and desolation,
but the goal of punishment was the destruction of estrangement itself (ref. 48:35),
not in the restoration of the Israelite theocracy, but in the recovery of sacred
space as first pledged in Eden. This is especially evident in two particulars:
1)
The first is the extensive temple imagery – centered in the return of
Yahweh’s glory (43:1-5) – that closes out the prophecy. Viewed from the
Israelite perspective, it graphically conveyed the promise of future
reconciliation between covenant Father and son (even as Israel’s exile
from Canaan recalled the first son’s expulsion from the garden-sanctuary).
2)
This reconciliation motif is also emphasized by Ezekiel’s promise of the
coming of the Spirit in order to create a new humanity defined by the
indwelling Spirit (36:1-38, esp. vv. 25-27). Here reconciliation finds its
most profound expression in the personal, ontological union of God and
His image-son. While Ezekiel doesn’t directly associate this re-creational
work with the coming “David,” the surrounding contexts strongly suggest
it (chaps. 34 and 37). So also the temple vision at the end of the prophecy
highlights a prince as a key figure in the people’s worship of Yahweh (cf.
44:3, 45:7-22, 46:1-18, 48:20-22 with 21:18-27 and 34:23-24, 37:24-25).
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IV.
The Fulfillment of Sacred Space in Christ
After His resurrection Jesus spent forty days on the earth prior to ascending to the Father. This
forty-day period was yet another time of testing for Israel as Jesus presented Himself alive to
numerous individuals, thereby compelling them to grapple with the profound implications of His
death at Calvary. In essence, Christ’s resurrection stood as the single great proof of the truth of
all that He had said and done prior to His crucifixion; He was who He claimed to be and had
accomplished the work He insisted He had come to do.
Jesus’ words and works clearly testified to who He was and why He came into the world, and yet
His self-interpretation was limited in both scope and content. His words and work were set
within narrow boundaries so that, at the time of His ascension, relatively few in Israel – and none
outside it – knew much about Him or had heard His words. He came and went quickly and with
relatively little fanfare, but that was by divine design: The Father had determined that His Son’s
disciples would bear witness to Him and His work of redemption as far as the ends of the earth.
For the most part, Jesus’ public self-interpretation was focused on the matter of fulfillment. That
is, He explained Himself in terms of the Scriptures and their promise of a final, everlasting
kingdom. Jesus’ constant refrain was that Israel’s failure to know Him reflected its failure to
understand the Scriptures; at every turn He answered His detractors and those who marveled at
Him by directing them to what the Scriptures said and promised about the coming Messiah and
the kingdom He would inaugurate (cf. Matthew 4:12-17, 5:17-20, 13:10-15, 21:1-46, 22:23-46;
Mark 1:14-15; Luke 4:16-30; John 5:16-47, 7:14-42, 10:22-38, etc.).
Perhaps the most powerful and succinct instance of this line of argumentation was Jesus’
encounter with two men on the road to Emmaus after His resurrection. As they walked along
discussing the report of the empty tomb and what it might mean, Jesus came up alongside them
and began engaging them. He answered their perplexity by referring them back to the Old
Testament, taking them from the beginning through all the things in all the Scriptures concerning
Himself (Luke 24:13-27). If these men were to “discern the times” and the One who stood beside
them they would have to have their minds opened to understand the Scriptures (cf. 24:33-45).
The obvious implication is that it’s impossible to know who and what Jesus is apart from
knowing the Old Testament scriptures; so also one cannot know what has been realized in Him
without knowing what God promised beforehand. Thus, while the four Gospel writers have their
own specific orientation and start their accounts at different points, they all explicitly emphasize
Jesus as the fulfillment of the Scriptures and all of its great kingdom themes (Luke arguably
more broadly than the rest). In that regard, the first point of commonality they all share is their
introduction of John the Baptist as the forerunner and herald of the in-breaking kingdom.
The New Testament everywhere presents Jesus of Nazareth as the fulfillment of the Old
Testament Scriptures – the promised Seed of the woman and Abraham and royal Son of David in
connection with whom Yahweh would usher in His everlasting kingdom. From the vantage point
of the Old Testament, the inseparability of biblical messianism and kingdom revelation is due to
the fact that the kingdom promised in the Scriptures is a redemptive kingdom.
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-
At the time of the Fall, God promised a day in which the serpent (and, by implication, his
works and the curse brought about through his deception) would be overthrown and
destroyed by a “seed” to come from Eve. The doctrine of the kingdom flows out of this
primal promise and its historical development and speaks to the promise’s fulfillment. In
the Scriptures the “kingdom of God” doesn’t refer to God’s supreme lordship as such, but
to His work of restoration in fulfillment of His oath in Genesis 3:15. It is for this reason
that it is a redemptive kingdom; it is the outcome of God’s sovereign activity in
recovering the estranged creation to Himself through judgment, deliverance, and renewal.
-
These core features of the kingdom were manifest in the Israelite theocracy. The kingdom
of Israel was born out of a great work of redemption in which Yahweh judged the
serpent’s seed (expressed in Pharaoh and Egypt) and thereby delivered the seed of
Abraham (the woman’s seed). From that time forward, every point in Israel’s
development and historical life reinforced the fact that it was a redemptive kingdom.
-
So also the decline and downfall of the Israelite theocracy were accompanied by the
divine promise of redemptive restoration. As He had done in the Exodus, Yahweh would
again deliver His people from their subjugation and restore them to Himself by judging
and destroying the enemies who had taken them captive (ref. Isaiah 50:1-52:12). In this
way the Lord would again bring comfort to His people, and He appointed a forerunner as
the sign and herald of that comfort.
A.
The Imminent Kingdom – John the Baptist
1.
The Isaianic Forerunner
As noted, all four of the gospel writers record John’s ministry and, most importantly, do
so conscious of the fact that he was the fulfillment of Isaiah’s promise of a forerunner (cf.
Matthew 3:1-3; Mark 1:1-4; Luke 3:1-6; John 1:19-23). The significance of this is not so
much what it says about John himself as what it reveals about the One he prepared for
and announced. A closer look at the forerunner context in Isaiah makes the point.
This context introduces the latter section of Isaiah in which the prophet progressively
reveals Yahweh’s Servant in whom He would fulfill His promise of restoration. This
promise had a near-term referent in the recovery of the Judean remnant from Babylonian
captivity, but extended beyond it to the renewal of the entire cosmos.
The Persian king Cyrus was to fulfill the role of Yahweh’s “servant” with respect to the
former restoration; he would release the exiles and authorize them to return to Judah and
rebuild Jerusalem and its temple (44:24-28). In this way he would serve as a prototypical
messiah (“anointed one” – ref. 45:1). But in chapter 48, Cyrus as Yahweh’s anointed
servant-deliverer (ref. 48:12-15) is supplanted in the prophecy by another such individual
who is notably characterized by the attendance of Yahweh’s Spirit (48:16). This servant
figure is then introduced in chapter 49 as Yahweh’s true Israel in whom He would save a
remnant of Israel and Judah along with the nations of the earth (49:1-6).
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This global salvation was to be effected through the Servant’s work of vicarious
atonement (53:1-12) and, as a result of it, Zion (symbolizing Yahweh’s covenant wife
who bears children for him – ref. 50:1; also Hosea 2:1-23) would be restored from her
desolation. In her restoration she would then gather in the innumerable “children” of the
covenant Lord secured for Him by the atoning work of His Servant (54:1-17).
The focal point of the Servant’s work in Isaiah’s prophecy is the recovery to God of
estranged mankind. But, in keeping with the fact that the curse extended to the whole
creation, Isaiah showed that work of recovery to reach beyond man to embrace the entire
created order. Through His Servant, Yahweh would vanquish the curse and usher in a
new creation (cf. 65:1-25, 66:5-24 with 11:1-10).
a.
Thus Yahweh’s message through Isaiah was one of comfort. Desolation and
destruction had been decreed, but that wasn’t to be the last word: Judgment and
wrath would one day yield to renewal and recovery when the Lord rose up on
behalf of His estranged creation to deliver it from its bondage and restore it to
Himself. This message and the proclamation of its impending fulfillment had been
entrusted to the forerunner – now present in John – and he was to prepare the sons
of Israel to receive the Servant coming to accomplish that work (40:1-11).
b.
As the Isaianic forerunner, John’s mission was one of preparation; the Lord raised
him up to prepare the people of Israel for the coming of their Messiah and the
inauguration of His kingdom. He was to “make smooth in the desert a highway
for Israel’s God,” and there were two components of his preparatory work, both
of which focused on the matter of repentance.
The first was John’s baptism, which the Scripture calls a “baptism of repentance”
(cf. Mark 1:4; Luke 3:3; also Acts 13:23-24); John called the sons of Israel to
undergo this ritual washing in connection with the confession of their sins
(Matthew 3:6; Mark 1:5). Some have wrongly concluded that John’s baptism
itself secured the forgiveness of sins, but it actually symbolized the purification
from uncleanness that was the goal of a person’s repentance. It wasn’t a baptism
unto repentance and forgiveness, but a baptism because of the repentance that
brings forgiveness of sin. For this reason it was universal in scope (Luke 3:14),
though it primarily targeted the unfaithful house of Israel. All men were in need
of repentance, even as the forerunner was appointed to announce Yahweh’s
salvation that would extend to the ends of the earth (John 1:29).
An even worse conclusion is that John was preparing the people for the coming of
the messianic kingdom by calling them away from their bad behavior. Luke’s
account especially has been used to support this understanding (ref. 3:10-14). But
a closer examination shows that John was revealing to the multitudes that the
emerging kingdom calls for an entirely new way of thinking about and
approaching life. The kingdom of God, soon to be inaugurated in the messianic
Servant, is an otherworldly kingdom that operates according to a radically
different set of principles. It is a heavenly kingdom rather than an earthly one.
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This is the reason that the matter of repentance was the marrow of John’s
preparatory work. Repentance speaks of a change in one’s thinking, and if the
sons of Israel (and the Gentiles among them) were going to be able to correctly
perceive and thereby embrace the King and His kingdom when they arrived, their
natural and historical way of conceiving those promised realities would have to be
drastically altered. In effect, Israel would have to become a new Israel. S.
McKnight, in the New Dictionary of Biblical Theology, comments: “While John
may have baptized in the Jordan simply because it was close to the desert, it is far
more likely that he did so to evoke the ancient Jewish tradition of entry into the
land as the new people of God. Having been baptized in the Jordan, the people
came out of the water, re-entered the land and sought once again to take it for
God as the now pure Israel.”
John’s second preparatory work was his proclamation of the kingdom and its
king, and that proclamation reinforces the sort of repentance he sought. For at the
heart of John’s proclamation was his rebuke of Israel’s unfounded confidence
before God. He warned those who came out to him about finding their
righteousness in their Abrahamic descent and place in the covenant household.
The Jews’ ethnic pride lulled them into thinking that they enjoyed a special
standing with God, while their natural self-righteousness fostered the notion that
righteousness under the law was achieved by external, “legal” conformity to it. If
they were to recognize and receive their Messiah and enter His kingdom they
would need to repent of all such thinking (cf. Matthew 3:7-12; Luke 3:7-9).
2.
The Coming Elijah
John’s role as Isaiah’s forerunner is further elucidated by his being the Elijah promised
by Malachi (4:5-6; cf. Matthew 11:7-14, 17:1-13). John’s appearance mirrored Elijah’s,
but the real issue was his coming in the spirit and power of Elijah. As the forerunner,
John was to prepare a smooth pathway for the Lord’s entrance, but he would do so by
turning the hearts of the father to the children and the hearts of the children to the fathers
(Luke 1:5-17). Like Elijah before him, John emerged as Yahweh’s prophet at a time
when Israel was at a critical point of decision. Each indicted the covenant people for their
rebellious unbelief and each called them to repent and return to their God. In Elijah’s case
this meant renouncing Baal; in John’s it meant embracing Yahweh in His Son.
Israel’s repentance would prepare them to receive their Messiah, but it also represented
the reuniting of their hearts with their fathers. The meaning becomes clear when it is
recognized that the text is referring to the patriarchal fathers. The people of Israel were
the children of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob to whom the kingdom promise first came, and
the Israelite nation was the first realization of that promise. But the children had turned
away from their fathers by rejecting the patriarchs’ God and covenant. Now the time had
come for Yahweh to inaugurate the true kingdom promised to the fathers – the kingdom
they had seen by faith and longed for up until the day of their death (Hebrews 11:8-16).
Only by repentance – by rethinking what it means to be sons of the kingdom – would the
children of the patriarchs be reunited with them and prepared for Abraham’s Seed.
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B.
The Emergent Kingdom – The Coming of Immanuel
John was appointed by the Lord to prepare Israel for the coming of the long-awaited kingdom.
And at the heart of that kingdom was the profound reality of theophany: The uniform prophetic
message was that Yahweh Himself would inaugurate His kingdom in connection with His own
personal presence in the world. The promise of the kingdom was the promise of Immanuel –
“God with us” – and this theme is most prevalent in Isaiah’s prophecy (cf. 7:1-12:6, 19:18-25,
25:1-27:13, 32:1-20, 40:1-11, 42:1-9, 49:1-13, 59:1-20, etc.).
In particular, Isaiah associated the eschatological coming of Yahweh with the coming of His
Servant. Importantly, this Servant is presented in unique terms as both the fulfillment of Israel
(Isaiah 49:1ff) and the presence of Yahweh (cf. Isaiah 40:1-11 with 42:1-16; also Zechariah
2:10-11). In this way the text indirectly indicates that, in this one individual, there is some sort of
conjoining of the covenant Father and son; both parties to the covenant are represented in him.
While Christians commonly recognize that the Isaianic “Servant of the Lord” represents Yahweh
Himself in His coming to inaugurate His kingdom, it is far less common for them to find in this
individual the fulfillment of Israel, Yahweh’s covenant son. The result is that they miss a crucial
aspect of Christ’s identity and role as the God-Man.
1.
The most explicit example of this prophetic conjoining of God and man is the Immanuel
prophecy of Isaiah 7-12. There Yahweh promised to Ahaz that His own presence with
the house of David constituted its security and well-being (7:1-8:10), and His presence –
explained in terms of the principle of Immanuel – was to find expression in the coming of
a child who is the covenant seed of David (cf. 9:1-7 with 7:13-14).
This context is profoundly important because it explicitly connects the central kingdom
theme of theophany – “God with us” – with the promised royal seed of David. Though
there remains a degree of mystery in Isaiah’s revelation, the prophet leaves no doubt that
Yahweh’s enduring promise to come and establish His kingdom was to be fulfilled in the
covenant son of David. Somehow that Davidic seed would represent the Lord’s tangible
presence in the world; Yahweh’s promise to establish and rule over His kingdom was to
be realized in the Davidide set forth in the Davidic Covenant.
For this reason, if the person of Jesus were indeed the promised Isaianic Servant, then
one would expect that He would be introduced as the Immanuel-Davidide of Isaiah’s
prophecy, and this is precisely the case.
a.
Before Jesus was even conceived the Lord dispatched His angel to inform Mary
of her impending pregnancy and its significance. The Lord had appointed her to
conceive the Son promised to David, with the implication being that the time had
come for Him to restore David’s house and kingdom as He promised through His
prophets. Luke is the most explicit in this regard (cf. Luke 1:26-33 with Amos
9:11-15), but Matthew also emphasizes the Davidic identity of Mary’s child – not
by linking Him with the Davidic Covenant as such, but with the subsequent
derivative promise that the royal Davidic seed would come out of Bethlehem, the
ancestral city of David (Matthew 2:1-6, cf. also 1:1-17).
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b.
2.
The child to be conceived in Mary’s womb would be the Son of David in whom
the kingdom was to be realized. But, according to Isaiah, as the promised
Davidide this son must also be the One fulfilling the promise of Immanuel. Again,
this is exactly how He is introduced. Mary would conceive a son, but not by
normal procreation; The Lord’s Spirit would come upon her and, through a
sublime, inexplicable miracle, a conception would take place. Thus the mystery of
Immanuel in relation to David’s seed was resolved at last: The Son of David was
to be uniquely the Son of God (cf. Matthew 1:18-23 with Luke 1:30-35).
Central to the Old Testament promise of the kingdom was the fact that Yahweh Himself
would come and establish it. But prophetic revelation also indicated that Yahweh’s
kingdom was to be ruled by the seed promised in the Davidic Covenant. Isaiah reconciled
these truths by revealing that the Davidide who would restore and rule over David’s
kingdom would do so according to the principle of Immanuel: His victory and dominion
were to be Yahweh’s; in His rule Yahweh’s own rule would be expressed.
But another stream of Old Testament messianism also converged with the promise to
David of a royal “Branch”: The coming Davidic ruler was to be a king-priest – a priest
according to the order of Melchizedek, king of Salem and priest of the Most High God
(cf. Psalm 110 with Zechariah 6:9-15; cf. also Genesis 14:18 with Hebrews 5-7).
The royal aspect of prophetic messianism associated with David enjoys an obvious and
intimate connection with the Isaianic servant motif and the principle of Immanuel (along
with the Isaiah contexts, consider Jeremiah 30-33). The focal point of that connection is
the matter of dominion: The Branch of David is shown to be the Servant of Yahweh in
whom the Lord establishes His kingdom and executes His dominion over His creation.
But the Scripture is concerned with a corollary issue, namely how the divine dominion is
secured and carried out. It is in that regard that the priestly aspect of messianism comes to
the forefront. The Davidic Branch is the Melchizedekian Priest.
Though perhaps not apparent at first glance, this messianic component is central to the
doctrine of the kingdom of God. The reason is tied to the fact that the Lord’s kingdom is,
in every manifestation, a redemptive kingdom – a kingdom having its origin and essence
in the principle of redemption.
a.
This truth was implied in the primal promise of the protoevangelium: In the most
basic sense, redemption involves liberation secured by appropriate payment, and
in the instance of the post-Fall circumstance the issue was liberation from the
curse. This deliverance was to be secured by the woman’s seed as He overcame
the serpent through the implied price of His own bruising. Given the nature and
effects of the Fall, any manifestation of God’s kingdom – that is, God’s rule
through man, the image-son – would necessarily involve redemption. The
kingdom of God concerns divine-human dominion in the context of divine-human
communion, and this reality demands the liberation of man from the subjugating
power of his estrangement from his Creator-Father.
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b.
Later, God further developed the promise of recovery (with its implied restoration
of His kingdom rule) by making a covenant with Abraham. In that covenant He
explicitly promised a future kingdom in terms of land, seed, and blessing:
Abraham’s seed would enter into Yahweh’s blessing and mediate that blessing to
the world by living as His beloved “son,” dwelling with Him as Father-King in
His sanctuary-land. Once again the kingdom of God was shown to be dominion in
the context of communion.
c.
The first expression of that kingdom was realized in the theocratic nation of
Israel. Israel was the promised seed of Abraham and Canaan was Yahweh’s
sanctuary where the nation would enjoy the blessing of communion with the God
of their patriarchal fathers. But what was only implied in Eden was now overt:
The theocratic kingdom had its source in a great redemptive act. Israel was born
out of divine redemption and this reality was the foundational premise of the
covenant and identity marker of the covenant people (Exodus 15:1-18, 20:1-2).
d.
The Israelite kingdom was a redemptive kingdom and, given its place as firstlevel fulfillment of the kingdom promised to Abraham, it follows that the final
form of the kingdom would also be associated with redemption. Again, this is
precisely what the Scriptures reveal.
e.
-
No sooner did the prophets declare the destruction of the Israelite kingdom
than they began to speak of a future kingdom associated with the promised
son of David. David’s existing kingdom would come to its decreed end,
but this didn’t mean the end of Yahweh’s oath to permanently establish
David’s kingdom in his son.
-
The Lord’s enduring commitment to David’s house and kingdom was
attested historically in the recovery of a Judean remnant following the
Babylonian destruction of Judah and Jerusalem. This miniscule restoration
was used by the prophets to reaffirm that Yahweh had not forgotten or
forsaken His promise to David. Most importantly, the return of the Judean
remnant under Cyrus reinforced the connection between Yahweh’s
kingdom and the principle of redemption. As the Lord redeemed a
remnant from Babylonian captivity, so the true Davidic kingdom would be
the product of divine redemption through an appointed messiah (ref. esp.
Isaiah 42:1-54:17).
It is in relation to the concept of a redemptive kingdom that the doctrine of the
Day of the Lord emerged in the prophets. Yahweh would indeed come and
establish His kingdom through a great redemptive act, but, consistent with the
meaning of redemption, that act would involve judgment and deliverance. The
Lord was going to usher in His kingdom by defeating the enemies who had taken
His sons captive, thereby liberating them and taking them to Himself to be with
Him in His dwelling place. The first Exodus was to find its own fulfillment in a
second Exodus (Isaiah 51:1-11; cf. 11:1-16).
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In history and in prophecy, God’s kingdom has been shown to be a redemptive kingdom,
but the principle of redemption always had a temporal quality. Now, in the time of
fulfillment, the Lord was revealing through His inspired witnesses that the kingdom
principle of redemption – like the kingdom itself – was taking on a spiritual character.
Deliverance from enemies had now, in the fullness of the times, become deliverance from
the spiritual enemies of sin and death; temporal deliverance had become salvation (ref.
Luke 1:39-55, 67-79). This transposition is the key to understanding the priestly aspect of
Old Testament messianism. Like its Israelite predecessor, Yahweh’s true kingdom was to
be a redemptive kingdom, but redemption in relation to it would involve deliverance from
sin, and this spotlighted its priestly dynamic.
The priestly aspect of the eschatological kingdom was itself nothing new, for the Israelite
kingdom had also been a priestly one (Exodus 19:5-6). Even as the kingdom of Israel was
founded on the Sinai Covenant, the covenant was founded on the priesthood. The
covenant at Sinai established formal relationship between Father and son, but that
relationship – set in the context of human estrangement – depended upon a system of
mediation by which the unrighteousness (that is, the relational unfaithfulness) of the son
could be addressed (Hebrews 7:11).
And at the heart of that mediation was the principle of sacrifice. The son’s violation of
the covenant demanded satisfaction, but, more than that, the continuance of the covenant
relationship required that the son’s obligation of perfect righteousness under the
covenant be met on his behalf. Violation of the covenant by either party meant the end of
the covenant; thus, in a context in which the son was capable only of unceasing violation,
the continuation of the Israelite kingdom depended upon the son’s appropriation of an
alien righteousness.
The covenant Father provided such a substitute for His son, but that provision was only
symbolic; the blood of bulls and goats could never take away sin. While Israel’s
sacrificial system spoke of righteousness by portraying how the problem of estrangement
was to be resolved, it didn’t procure it. In God’s infinite wisdom, what was portrayed by
priest and sacrifice would be fulfilled through the merging of the two. The problem of
human unrighteousness – that is, the curse of divine-human estrangement – would be
resolved by a priest who would offer Himself as substitutionary atoning sacrifice.
This, too, was not a new idea; in their witness to the kingdom the prophets insisted that
Yahweh’s deliverance and restoration – which were to come through His Servant –
would be effected by the Servant’s self-offering. Zion’s perpetual unfaithfulness had
brought desolation to David’s kingdom, but the Servant’s work would secure restoration
and a profusion of offspring for Yahweh (Isaiah 53-54). The Branch of David – the
Servant of Yahweh – would rule as a priest upon His throne: Not only would the
promised kingdom be inaugurated through a work of priestly triumph over the true
enemies of God and man, namely sin and death, it would be perpetuated through priestly
intercession. The One heralded by the forerunner as the winnowing Judge who would
burn the chaff with unquenchable fire was also the Savior of whom He declared, “Behold
the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (Luke 3:15-17; John 1:19-30).
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3.
Isaiah’s doctrine of Immanuel is vitally important to Old Testament messianism in that it
introduces into it a divine component alongside the human one. As early as the oath in
Eden God had revealed that recovery from the curse was to come through a man, and the
Abrahamic and Davidic Covenants had reiterated and furthered that promise of a human
seed. But the Immanuel prophecy brought a whole new dimension to messianic
revelation by linking the Davidic descendent with the coming of the Lord. According to
the prophet, the presence of the Immanuel child signified the presence of Yahweh
Himself. The son prophesied to take David’s throne would possess the title of Mighty
God and Everlasting Father (“Father of Eternity”).
This divine-human dynamic is all the more profound in that the Immanuel prophecy
draws into itself the priestly component of Old Testament messianism. Again, the point
of connection is the Davidic Covenant: The promise of Immanuel was to be fulfilled in
the Son of David, but that same son would be the Melchizedekian king-priest. In turn, the
interweaving of these three strands pulls in the other great Isaianic messianic thread,
namely the doctrine of the Servant of Yahweh.
While David had earlier prophesied concerning a king-priest – by both direct declaration
(Psalm 110) and the typology of his own life as Israel’s king (2 Samuel 6), and Zechariah
would later explicitly merge the kingly and priestly strands of messianic promise, Isaiah
drew them together indirectly by his presentation of the Servant. As noted previously,
this individual is presented on the one hand as the theophanic presence of Yahweh, and
on the other as the true Israel. In the Servant both parties to the covenant are represented,
and this becomes hugely important when His work is considered.
The doctrine of the Servant of Yahweh is evident elsewhere in the Old Testament –
particularly in relation to the promised Davidic seed (ref. Ezekiel 34:23-24, 37:24-25;
Zechariah 3:8; cf. also Haggai 2:20-23), but Isaiah’s treatment stands alone in its
magnitude and scope. His prophecy provides essential content for bringing together the
various aspects of Old Testament messianism.
-
The prophets revealed a Messiah who would be the Son of David and
Melchizedekian high priest. This One would also be the tangible manifestation of
Yahweh in His coming to establish His kingdom in the earth. Moreover, both the
prophets and history itself indicated that this kingdom was to be the product of
Yahweh’s work of redemption in the great and awesome Day of the Lord (cf.
Isaiah 3:1-4:6; Joel 3:9-21; Zephaniah 1:1-18, 3:1-20; Malachi 4:5-6; etc.).
-
Together these components of messianic revelation form a general framework,
but they leave unanswered the important question of how they all fit together.
How, exactly, does the coming of the Immanuel-Davidide and His execution of
Yahweh’s judgment and deliverance inaugurate the kingdom and provide for the
removal of the curse as first promised in the protoevangelium? Isaiah answers
that question by His revelation of the Servant. In that revelation he conjoins the
kingly and priestly messianic strands, but he does much more: He shows how that
conjoining is key to reconciling all the components of messianic revelation.
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a.
The fact that the Servant represents both parties to Israel’s covenant is
foundational to properly interacting with Isaiah’s presentation of Him. First of all,
the Servant is Yahweh’s true Israel, and the significance of this becomes evident
when the biblical idea of “Israel” is unfolded.
-
The immediate inclination is to think of Israel as a national, ethnic people,
but it is first and foremost a biblical concept. Israel found its first
expression in a single individual, and only later in the corporate body
descended from him. As a concept, “Israel” principally embodies the ideas
of seed of Abraham, son of God, servant of Yahweh, disciple and witness.
The latter three, especially, come to the forefront in Isaiah’s prophecy.
The nation of Israel was God’s son in that it had been “begotten” by
redemptive “birth” in keeping with the Lord’s covenant with Abraham.
Yahweh had promised to be the God of Abraham and his descendents, and
He upheld that promise by delivering Israel from exile and bondage and
bringing them to be with Him in His sanctuary-land.
But, being the recipients of the Abrahamic Covenant and its promises,
Israel was to fulfill the core feature of the covenant that, in Abraham and
his seed, all the families of the earth would be blessed. That blessing
consisted in the nations coming to know and worship Abraham’s God.
From the vantage point of the Fall, it meant the undoing of the curse; it
meant the reconciliation of Creator-Father and estranged image-son. In its
calling as Abraham’s seed, the nation of Israel was to fulfill this promise
of reconciliation. Israel was Yahweh’s servant (Isaiah 41:8-9, 44:1-2, 21),
set apart as His disciple to learn of Him through devoted faithfulness to
the covenant by which He revealed Himself (42:18-24). By that life of
faithfulness, in turn, the servant-son would bear witness to the divine
Father to the surrounding nations (Isaiah 43:10-15, 44:6-8).
These designations show that the concept “Israel” speaks to man as truly
man – man as he exists in intimate communion with God as Father and
communicates His presence and lordship throughout His creation.
-
Israel was son, servant, disciple and witness, but the nation failed to fulfill
its identity in every way. Israel could not be Israel, and its failure brought
the Abrahamic promise (and the Edenic oath behind it) into jeopardy. If
God were to fulfill His oath of restoration and reconciliation, a new Israel
was needed, as this is precisely what Isaiah promised (49:1ff).
This new Israel would fulfill Israel’s identity and calling, and this meant
mediating Yahweh’s blessing to all the earth’s people – blessing that
consists in intimate relational knowledge of the Creator-Father. But in the
context of divine-human estrangement, such knowledge necessitates
reconciliation, and this is where the Servant-Israel’s priesthood comes in.
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Along with its identity as son, servant, witness and disciple, Israel was
also a priestly entity. The covenant that formally identified Israel as the
son of God was founded on the concept of priesthood, and Yahweh
structured His relationship with Israel such that no Israelite could conceive
of that relationship except in terms of priestly mediation. This principle
was put in place with Moses and continued on in the Levitical system.
-
If it was true that national Israel was a priestly entity, it was equally true of
the Servant-Israel. The relationship between Yahweh and Israel had been
defined and instituted by covenant, and the covenant had depended on the
priesthood: Israel’s execution of its sonship depended upon mediation, and
sacrifice was at the heart of that mediation. Yahweh and Israel were bound
together through sacrifice, but that union was to find its ultimacy in the
reconciliation of Yahweh and the world of men. Israel’s life of filial
intimacy was to serve the cause of the reconciliation of God and mankind.
Accordingly, Isaiah presented the Servant-Israel as the point of divinehuman reconciliation effected through priestly mediation (Isaiah 53). The
true Servant would not only fulfill Israel’s identity and role by His own
covenant fidelity, He would fulfill the covenant prescription of vicarious
righteousness. Just as prescribed sacrifices preserved the covenant union
between Yahweh and Israel, so the Servant, by the sacrifice of Himself,
would secure the union between Creator-Father and man, the image-son.
b.
The Servant’s priestly role as Yahweh’s true Israel is profound in itself, but all the
more so in the light of the fact that He is also the presence of Yahweh as Israel’s
Redeemer (Isaiah 59:15-20). In the Suffering Servant, the Lord Himself would
bear the guilt of His people and satisfy the demands of justice against them.
-
From the beginning God indicated that His kingdom was to be a
redemptive kingdom; Yahweh, the great King, would establish it through a
spectacular work of judgment, deliverance, and restoration. And as had
been the case with its Israelite predecessor, sacrifice was to provide the
redemptive foundation for the final kingdom. Though only indirectly
implied, the future second Exodus predicted by Isaiah (ref. again 51:9-11)
would also stand upon a second Passover as the instrument of redemption.
-
At the same time, the Servant’s unique nature introduced a whole new
dimension into the redemptive circumstance. This one would fulfill in
Himself the twin roles of priest and sacrifice, but He would do so as
Yahweh the Redeemer as well as the new Israel.
Satisfying the obligations of both parties, the Servant effectively embodied the covenant
in Himself (42:1-7, 49:8-9). He would be Israel on behalf of Israel, but as the Lord
Redeemer He would accomplish Yahweh’s purpose to redeem and recover to Himself all
things (cf. Isaiah 49:5-6, 54:1-17; also Ephesians 1:7-10, 2:11-3:12; Colossians 1:19-20).
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C.
The Nature of the Kingdom – The Recovery of Sacred Space
Even before the tragedy of the Fall, God revealed that He intended intimate connection between
Himself and His creation. Specifically, His presence and rule were to be administered through
His image-bearer; man was to serve as the interface between the divine Creator and the rest of
His creation. But this work of administration would not be the result of a detached delegation of
authority. Adam and his descendents were to rule the earth as God’s image-son; divine dominion
was to be expressed in the context of divine-human communion.
God’s active presence in His creation – manifested and operative in and through man – is the
very essence of the idea of sacred space. Because of the nature of the Fall, sacred space was
shattered and the balance of salvation history is devoted to its recovery. God’s intention wasn’t
merely the punishment and purging of evil; it was the restoration of His creation to Himself.
While the gospel proclaims the Lord’s retribution against human sinfulness at Calvary, it equally
insists that that just recompense had its goal in creational recovery and renewal; wrath served the
purpose of reconciliation (cf. John 3:14-17, 12:30-33; Colossians 1:15-20).
If the doctrine of God’s kingdom may be regarded as the Bible’s central conjoining motif, the
kingdom itself is defined by the principle of sacred space. As a result, when one speaks of the
Lord’s establishing His kingdom in Christ, he is speaking of the recovery of sacred space. This
understanding isn’t the product of a logical process, but is the uniform witness of the Scripture.
From the day that God banished man from His garden-sanctuary, His work (and so also the
inspired biblical record of that work) has been conspicuously focused on ending the
estrangement between Him and His image-son. Through the reconciliation of that relationship
the whole creation would enjoy its own reconciliation (cf. Isaiah 65:1-25 with Romans 8:18-23).
The biblical storyline is preoccupied with God’s purpose and work in recovering sacred space,
and one of the primary sub-motifs associated with this endeavor is sanctuary or temple. Divinehuman estrangement is about distance – not geographical distance, but spiritual and relational
distance. Man had lost his connection with his Creator-Father, so that his interaction with God
subsequent to the Fall was accomplished in connection with tangible symbols and sacraments.
Worship was no longer inherent, authentic intimacy; it was now a matter of mediated distance
accomplished through appointed religious means.
-
Thus the biblical text’s first account subsequent to man’s expulsion from God’s presence
is human worship through the vehicle of sacrificial offering (Genesis 4:1-5).
-
That first act of worship is followed in the Old Testament by an endless chain of worship
episodes, all defined by the ritual use of symbols (sacred sites, altars, implements,
structures, etc.) and sacraments (primarily sacrificial offerings). The point is obvious:
Human encounter with God didn’t end with the introduction of divine-human
estrangement. But those encounters, which bridged the distance imposed by
estrangement, did so only symbolically. Human worship – ordered around symbols and
sacraments – continued to reflect the unresolved problem of alienation between man and
his Creator-Father.
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-
Even Israel’s tabernacle and the temple structures that later replaced it expressed the
same truth. Though Yahweh set His sanctuary in the midst of the congregation of Israel
and invested it with otherworldly splendor and mystery intended to provoke awe and the
sense of His holy presence, He remained conspicuously distant from them. The Lord’s
sanctuary and its location spoke of the Father dwelling in the very presence of His
covenant son, but still in the context of awkward and fearful distance.
-
Given the symbolic significance of God’s sanctuary, it’s easy to see why His developing
promise of reconciliation with His image-son would embrace the imagery of “temple.”
Reconciliation meant the recovery of sacred space, and, from the beginning of Israelite
history, sacred space – signifying the realm in which God is present in and accessible to
His creation – had been expressed in terms of a physical dwelling place. Yahweh’s
presence with His people was attested by His sanctuary in their midst. Thus, when He
sent them away from His presence He destroyed the temple, and He likewise attended the
recovery of the exiles to His “sanctuary-land” with the temple’s reconstruction.
The promise of Yahweh’s kingdom was the promise of His recovery of sacred space, and, within
the Israelite context, sacred space was symbolized in Israel’s temple in Jerusalem. This is the
reason the prophetic witness to the kingdom has a primary focal point in the temple concept. In
that day the mountain of the Lord – symbolic of His dwelling place (Exodus 15:17) – would be
the greatest of all the mountains (Isaiah 2:1-3; Zechariah 8:1-3), rising and expanding to fill the
whole earth (Daniel 2:31-35, 44-45; cf. also Isaiah 11:9). So Jerusalem (Zion) – the Lord’s
symbolic throne – would be the center of the earth with all the nations and peoples coming into it
(ref. again Isaiah 2:1-3, also 51:1-11, 62:1-12, 66:19-20 with Jeremiah 3:14-17, 31:1-6; Micah
4:1-7; Zechariah 8:19-23). And more narrowly, that great day would see the erecting of the
Lord’s true temple with His glory filling His sanctuary forever (ref. Ezekiel 40-47, esp. 43:1-5
and 44:1-4; also Haggai 2:1-9; Zechariah 6:9-15).
Well before the captivities, the sons of Israel understood the connection between Yahweh’s
kingdom and His sanctuary, and this is the reason the post-exile prophets were so emphatic that
the remnant’s reconstruction of the physical temple in Jerusalem didn’t indicate the impending
inauguration of the eschatological kingdom proclaimed by their predecessors. As with David’s
former kingdom, the Lord’s dwelling place in the midst of His people would highlight the final
kingdom, but the sanctuary of that kingdom was to be built by the Davidic Branch (Zechariah
6:9-15); until that day, any temple in Jerusalem only spoke of fulfillment yet to come.
1.
The Fulfillment of Sacred Space in Christ
The concept of temple (sanctuary) is a central theme in the Old Testament doctrine of the
kingdom. The reason is that the kingdom of God is a redemptive and relational
phenomenon and the temple concept speaks to the place of divine-human encounter and
interaction. The Lord manifested Himself as dwelling in the Holy of Holies between the
wings of the cherubim, and so if a person wished to meet with and worship Him he had to
journey to the place of His sanctuary. This principle became codified for Israel in the law
of the central sanctuary (Deuteronomy 12:1-14); whereas all Canaan had been Yahweh’s
sanctuary, now His presence resided more specifically on Mount Zion in Jerusalem.
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When considered alongside Jesus’ insistence that His presence indicated the fulfillment
of all the Scriptures and the in-breaking of the promised kingdom, the centrality of the
temple motif in the Old Testament and its doctrine of the kingdom leads to the
expectation that He would present Himself and His coming as somehow fulfilling the
temple concept. In fact, this is exactly what the four gospel writers reveal.
a.
The first way they do so is the most fundamental and profound. Jesus is the
fulfillment of the temple because, in His person, He is the conjoining of deity and
humanity; He is the place where God and man are brought together and commune
with each other. This is the doctrine of the hypostatic union, and it speaks to the
fact that, in the one undivided and indivisible person of Jesus of Nazareth, the
divine and human natures are perfectly and harmoniously conjoined. The apostle
John deals with this doctrine more fully than any of the other gospel writers, and
it is worthwhile to consider his treatment a little further.
The hypostatic union is implied in Jesus as Immanuel, but, in itself, the Immanuel
idea in relation to Him is vague. That is to say, while it indicates that Jesus’
incarnation somehow represents the presence of God, it doesn’t explain how that
is the case. Matthew brings some clarification by showing that Jesus as
“Immanuel” involves divine conception, but he, too, leaves unexplained the
mystery of the God-Man. How is that Jesus is equally and fully God and man?
John takes the argument the furthest, but in the end the doctrine of the hypostatic
union is developed mostly through the accounts of Jesus’ life, words, and work
rather than by direct pronouncement or explanation.
-
Because of his goal for his account, John begins his gospel in eternity past
with a direct proclamation of Jesus’ deity (1:1-2). As true God, the Logos
is the source of all created things, but He is equally the destiny of all
things (1:3-13). The latter implicates His incarnational status as true Man:
The divine Logos became man in order to tabernacle among men (1:14).
John’s peculiar word choice was intentional, evident in his subsequent
proclamation that, while previously no person had ever seen God as He
really is, now that is no longer the case. The “only begotten God” has
come to explain (“exegete”) God to men by taking on their humanity in
Himself and encountering them on that common ground (1:18).
Yahweh was now “tabernacling” among men – not in the form of a glorycloud behind a veil, but by His tangible, personal presence in the person of
His Son. Thus John could declare that the grace and truth to which the
Law pointed as it revealed Yahweh had now been realized in Jesus of
Nazareth. Promise had yielded itself up to fulfillment (1:16-17).
-
This introduction provides the foundation for the rest of John’s account,
and so leads immediately to his presentation of Jesus as the man indwelled
by the Spirit (1:32-34) and therefore Yahweh’s true sanctuary (2:13-21).
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-
So also John uniquely records the episode Jesus’ self-disclosure to
Nathaniel in which He declares Himself to be the fulfillment of Jacob’s
dream episode at Bethel (1:43-51; cf. Genesis 28:10-22). In that incident
Yahweh affirmed to Jacob that His covenant with Abraham had now
passed to him; Jacob could depart the covenant land for Haran (the place
from which Abraham had first entered Canaan at God’s direction) with
full confidence that the Lord would go with him, provide for him, and
bring him safely back to the land of his fathers. Though Jacob was leaving
the covenant land, he wasn’t leaving the covenant God; Yahweh’s
enduring commitment to His covenant stood fast, regardless of where His
covenant son resided. This promise to Jacob – who would become Israel –
would later provide the foundation of hope for the nation of descendents
bearing his name: The man “Israel” could lead his household from the
covenant land into Egypt with full confidence that, at the appointed time,
the Lord would restore Abraham’s covenant seed back to His sacred
habitation (cf. Genesis 46:14, 50:1-13, 24-26; Exodus 3:1ff).
In Jacob’s dream, a series of steps formed the bridge between God and the
covenant heir. On those steps Jacob saw Yahweh’s angels ascending and
descending and now, Jesus was telling Nathaniel that what that sacred
scene signified was being fulfilled in Him. Thus John’s point: As the Man
who is Yahweh’s true dwelling, Jesus is Himself the quintessential point
of divine-human intimacy. But His identity as the divine “Son of Man”
was to serve the Lord’s goal of recovering sacred space: The conjoining of
God and man in Christ was to bring about the reconciliation of God and
mankind. Clowney observes: “The stairway was a picture in Jacob’s
dream. But what the dream promised became a reality in Christ’s
Incarnation. God came down in the person of His Son to dwell on the
earth. Christ is the link between earth and heaven. He is the true Bethel,
the House of God, Immanuel, God with us.” (The Unfolding Mystery)
-
Because Jesus is the true and singular temple, He is also the fulfillment of
the law of the central sanctuary. That law had prescribed a single place
which God would claim for Himself (where He would “put His name”)
and there alone He would manifest His presence by His Shekinah. If men
were to meet with Him, they had to come to Him where He was.
Jerusalem had been that place since David’s reign, but with the coming of
the true sanctuary Jerusalem’s status as Yahweh’s habitation had come to
an end. This is the point of John’s account of Jesus’ encounter with the
Samaritan woman (4:1-26). Recognizing Him to be a prophet, the woman
asked Jesus about the conflicting views of the Jews and Samaritans
regarding where God is to be worshipped (vv. 19-20). Jesus’ response was
that worship was no longer about a place but a spiritual reality. The Father
sought worshippers, not at Jerusalem or Mount Gerizim, but in the
spiritual “place” defined by Spirit and truth. So Greg Beale:
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“One need not go to the Jerusalem temple to be near God’s revelatory
presence but only need trust in Jesus to experience that presence. This is
why Jesus says that the time was dawning when true worship would not
occur at the Jerusalem temple, nor any other holy site, but would be
directed toward the Father (and, by implication, through the Messiah) in
the sphere of the coming eschatological Spirit of Jesus.”
Addressing the connection between this context and Jesus’ previous
meeting with Nathaniel, Beale continues: “A link with heaven would be
created by the Spirit wherever there was trust in Christ, and those so
trusting would come within the sphere of the true temple consisting of
Christ and His Spirit.” (The Temple and the Church’s Mission)
-
b.
John advances Jesus’ self-identification with the temple in his account of
the Feast of Tabernacles (7:1-53). At the pinnacle of the feast Christ stood
and proclaimed that all who believe in Him will find living waters flowing
out of their innermost being (vv. 37-39). This language clearly draws upon
the prophecies of Ezekiel, Joel, and Zechariah in which life-giving water
is shown flowing out of the Lord’s temple in the day when He comes to
cleanse and renew His creation and establish His kingdom (ref. Ezekiel
47:1-12; Joel 3:16-21; Zechariah 14:1-11). Though this “living water” is
said to flow out of the believer, it has its source in Jesus from whom the
person “drinks” (v. 37). Being the true temple, He is the point of
origination of the rivers of the water of life (cf. Revelation 21:22, 22:1-2).
Jesus’ identity as the fulfilled temple is most clearly seen in His person, but it is
also evident in the purpose of His coming. Specifically, He entered the world as
the God-Man in order to recover sacred space by reconciling all things to God. In
that way He would usher in the long-promised kingdom.
As seen, the promise of the coming kingdom is everywhere associated with
temple and sanctuary imagery. The reason, again, is that God presents His
kingdom as being established through His deliverance of His people (and the
whole creation) from their captivity (redemption) in order to restore them (and all
things) to Himself (reconciliation). The true kingdom is about restored
relationship and recovered intimacy, and, considered from within the framework
of the Israelite kingdom (as was the case with the prophets), the temple concept
speaks to this dynamic more powerfully than anything else. The temple
represented sacred space – the reality of divine-human encounter and communion.
Thus the promise of the kingdom was the promise of restored sanctuary. As
would be expected, this theme comes to the forefront in the historical context of
the captivities. The temple was to be destroyed, but just as Yahweh promised the
restoration of David’s house and kingdom, so He promised the restoration of His
own “house.” A new “David” would restore the kingdom, and that same Davidide
would build the Lord’s house (ref. again Zechariah 6:9-15; also Amos 9:11-15).
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Jesus came as the promised Davidide (Matthew 1:1-17; Luke 1:26-33, 67-75), and
the implication was that the time had come for the Lord’s house to be built, even
as His presence meant that the prophesied kingdom was at hand. True, the second
temple had stood on Mount Moriah for five hundred years, but at the time it was
being erected Zechariah had declared that that structure didn’t constitute the
everlasting divine dwelling promised in the Davidic Covenant. The Branch of
David would build that house at His coming.
Yahweh had stipulated that the son of the covenant would build His house, but the
prophet Isaiah revealed that the Davidic seed would also somehow form the
cornerstone of that true sanctuary (cf. 28:16 with Matthew 21:33-42; Acts 4:8-12;
Ephesians 2:11-22; 1 Peter 2:4-7). The son of David would build the Lord’s
house, but He would build it upon Himself (Matthew 16:13-18).
Thus the point: If it is true that Jesus came into the world to establish His Father’s
kingdom by a great work of redemption, recovery, and renewal, and that by doing
so He would restore all things to God, thereby building Yahweh’s “house,” then it
was equally true that He is the true temple. He could not build His Father’s
dwelling place without also being the chief cornerstone promised by Isaiah.
Jesus is the fulfilled temple – the fulfillment of sacred space as the realm of
divine-human interaction and communion. Beyond the Incarnation itself, this is
affirmed in various titles and imagery that implicate not only Christ’s person, but
also the work He came to accomplish on His Father’s behalf. Given John’s
emphasis on the temple theme as a key point of Christological fulfillment, it’s not
at all surprising that his gospel is rich in these titles and images.
1)
The first of those is John’s association of Christ with the principle of light.
The introduction to his gospel account emphasizes this as a central theme,
and he refers to it repeatedly throughout its length (1:1-9, 3:1-21, 5:33-36,
8:12, 9:1-5 with 9:35-41, 11:1-10, 12:20-46). Being true deity, Jesus is the
true light that has come into the world (cf. 1 John 1:5) – a world
characterized by the darkness of alienation and unbelief. And interjecting
Himself as light into the darkness, He came to illumine the world of men;
Jesus came to those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death in
order to illumine their way and thereby set their feet on the path of life and
peace (ref. Luke 1:76-79; cf. also Isaiah 9:1-7 with Matthew 4:12-17).
Starting again from the biblical premise that Jesus’ person and work
constitute the fulfillment of all the Scriptures – a truth that the gospel
writers labored to demonstrate – one would expect that John’s emphasis
on the relationship between the Savior and light would reflect back upon
the Old Testament’s revelation of Yahweh’s promised salvation. Once
again, this is precisely the case. In particular, that arena of revelation falls
into two broad categories: light as expressing God’s creational presence,
and light as expressing His relational presence.
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With respect to the former, the place to begin is the creation account itself,
for it is there that the concept of light is first introduced. The Scripture
first presents the created earth as uninhabitable (“formless”) and
uninhabited (“void”), which qualities it closely associates with darkness
(Genesis 1:1-2). The indication from the outset is that God’s goal for His
creative work was to produce an ordered habitation filled with life. And,
just as darkness expressed the initial creative state of chaos and emptiness,
so light was to be the first point of ordering and filling; the entrance of
light was to be the foundation for the emergence of life.
This was certainly true in the realm of the physical creation, but, more
importantly, it would also mark the spiritual, new creation. That is, what
was true of the first creation would also be true of the second creation that
is the renewal of all things in connection with the New Adam.
-
Thus the priest Zacharias associated the day of salvation – that is,
the emergence of life out of death – with the dawning of the
“sunrise from on high,” and Simeon saw in Yahweh’s salvation “a
light to illumine the Gentiles” as well as the radiant glory of the
sons of Israel (Luke 1:76-79, 2:27-32).
-
Similarly, John could proclaim that the One who Himself is light
and life has come to shine upon men in order to give them the light
that both brings and is itself true life (John 1:1-4, 8:12).
-
Taking up these themes of light and life, Paul showed the
Corinthians how their operation in the first, physical creation
prefigured the fulfillment to come in the new creation. The same
God who, in the beginning, had commanded light to shine forth
and vanquish the darkness of the chaotic creation (Genesis 1:3)
was now causing the light of the renewing knowledge of His full
glory in Jesus Christ to rise in and dispel the spiritual darkness that
fills the hearts of men (cf. 2 Corinthians 4:1-6 with 3:1-18).
The concept of light is central to God’s creative presence, but inasmuch as
both the first and new creations find their ultimate purpose in divinehuman relationship, it’s not at all surprising that the Scripture makes light
a key theme in God’s relational presence. This, too, is evident in the first
verses of Genesis which present the Spirit of God hovering (“brooding”)
over the face of the deep in the context of the primordial dark and empty
chaos of the newly established earth. Even before any living thing existed,
God was present in the midst of His creation. And having consummated
His creative work in man, His image-son, God took Adam and placed him
in His own garden-sanctuary that he should dwell with Him in perfect
communion (Genesis 2:1-15). Determined by that intimacy, Adam’s race
was to carry the divine presence and rule throughout the entire earth.
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-
Later, when the time had come to redeem His covenant “son”
according to His promise to Abraham (Genesis 15:12-14), Yahweh
brought darkness upon the whole subjugating nation while causing
His people to dwell in unceasing light (Exodus 10:21-23). So also,
after accomplishing His great redemption, Yahweh led His “son” –
as a shepherd leads his sheep – by the light of His own perpetual
presence manifested in a luminescent pillar of cloud by day and a
pillar of fire by night (Exodus 13:17-22).
-
And when He had made His covenant with Abraham’s seed, the
Lord established His presence in Israel’s midst by His Shekinah –
His glory-cloud – in the Holy of Holies. And outside the veil in the
Holy Place, the perpetual light of the lampstand testified that the
endless day of Yahweh’s dwelling place was the result of the
radiant splendor of His presence and not the luminaries of the
natural creation (cf. Exodus 25:31-37, 27:20-21, 40:33-38).
-
Then, in the day of judgment, the Lord withdrew His presence
from the covenant people; His Shekinah departed the sanctuary in
Jerusalem (Ezekiel 10:1-11:23), and soon after He brought a
desolating army against the city and sanctuary where He had put
His name. Though the temple was later rebuilt by the restored
Judean remnant, the Lord’s glory-cloud remained painfully absent
from it; the second temple was merely a lifeless religious edifice
whose empty existence served to punctuate the enduring promise of
the return of Yahweh’s glory in His Servant, the appointed
“messenger of the covenant” (Haggai 2:1-9; Malachi 3:1-4).
The light of the divine presence would return only in the One who is the
“true light” that enlightens the whole world. And now having entered the
world of men, everyone who beholds this light and comes to Him becomes
himself a “son of light” (John 1:4-13, 3:14-21, 8:12, 11:5-10, 12:23-36).
These words of fulfillment, proclaimed by the manifest, incarnate Light,
hearkened back to the Lord’s visionary revelation to Zechariah.
Along with Haggai, Zechariah was Yahweh’s prophet in Jerusalem shortly
after the first Judean exiles returned from Babylon. During the time of the
temple reconstruction he was given a mysterious vision in which he saw a
lampstand – like the one God had specified for His sanctuary – burning
brightly and being filled with a perpetual supply of golden oil flowing
from two olive trees standing on either side of it (4:1-14). Mystified by
what he saw, Zechariah sought an explanation from the attending angel.
That explanation, clear enough for the Lord’s Israelite prophet, becomes
comprehensible to the contemporary reader only when the vision and its
meaning are considered within the historical and prophetic context in
which they were disclosed.
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The historical context for Zechariah’s vision was the frustrated
circumstance of the restored exiles as they sought to rebuild the temple.
They undertook that monumental project immediately after returning to
Jerusalem, but soon found their efforts thwarted by outside opposition (ref.
Ezra 3-4). Added to that was the discouragement of many of the Jewish
laborers who lamented over the inglorious quality of the emerging
structure in comparison with Solomon’s temple (Haggai 2:1-3).
Opposition and discouragement plagued the rebuilding project, and in the
second year of the Persian king Darius it was halted altogether. It was
during that time that Yahweh sent His prophets Haggai and Zechariah to
encourage the restored exiles to resume and complete the construction of
the second temple (cf. Ezra 4:24 with Haggai 1:1 and Zechariah 1:1).
Haggai’s prophecy is explicit in this regard (ref. 1:1-2:4), but the same
intention lay behind Zechariah’s prophetic ministry. Both prophets were
called to strengthen the resolve of the builders by affirming to them the
Lord’s commitment to bring fruition to their labors.
The recovered exiles were to give themselves to their task with the
confident assurance that Yahweh was again in their midst, even as He had
been at the founding of the covenant nation (cf. Haggai 1:13-14, 2:4-5).
He would secure the successful outcome they sought; the temple would be
completed (Ezra 6:14-15). And, however inglorious it may have appeared
to the disillusioned Israelite remnant, they could be assured that the Lord
would convey His glory upon this latter sanctuary. It, too, would know the
divine glory, but not in the way the tabernacle and first temple had.
This is where the larger prophetic context comes into play. Those former
sanctuaries had known Yahweh’s glory in His luminous Shekinah, but the
latter sanctuary would enjoy a superior glory associated with the
ingathering of the precious value of the nations (Haggai 2:5-9). Haggai’s
contemporary Zechariah revealed further that that human ingathering
involved the convergence of men from the four corners of the earth to
contribute to the Davidic Branch’s work of constructing the Lord’s
sanctuary – a holy and enduring dwelling that He would build for Yahweh
as His priest-king (6:9-15).
With these historical and prophetic details in place, the meaning of
Zechariah’s vision and its contribution to the subject at hand – namely, the
theme of light as it speaks to the fulfillment of sacred space in Christ –
becomes clear and profoundly glorious.
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As noted previously, in his vision Zechariah saw a lampstand like
the temple menorah with two olives trees, one on either side. When
asked by the angel if he understood the meaning of what he was
seeing, the prophet confessed his perplexity.
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The angel responded that this was Yahweh’s word to Zerubbabel,
leader of the restored exiles and overseer of the building project
(Ezra 2:1, 3:1-8; Haggai 1:12-2:23). And His word was this: “Not
by might nor by power, but by My Spirit, says the Lord of Hosts”
(4:1-6). However great the obstacle to the work of building the
Lord’s house, it would fall before the effectual work of His Spirit.
The top stone would indeed be laid, and at that climax the shout of
praise would go up: “Grace, grace to it!” (4:7). Zerubbabel’s hand
had begun the work, and the Spirit would complete it through him.
And in that day when the prophet’s word was fulfilled, the remnant
in Jerusalem would know that Yahweh had sent him (4:9).
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Having the Lord’s sure promise of the Spirit’s presence and power
for building His house, the workers were to take heart and look
past its insignificant beginning and present lamentable state; the
seven – that is, the Lord’s seven eyes (also associated with the
stone of verse 3:9) – would rejoice when they saw the plumb line
in Zerubbabel’s hand and knew the top stone had been laid (4:10).
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With this explanation, Zechariah inquired about the meaning of the
two olive trees – specifically, the oil-producing branches – and the
angel answered that they represented the Lord’s two anointed ones
(“sons of oil”) standing by His side (4:11-14). Whoever these
persons might be, the imagery highlights the Spirit’s use of human
instruments in His work of building and sustaining His sanctuary.
Set in the historical context of the construction of the second temple, the
visionary menorah corresponded to the emerging house of the Lord.
Zerubbabel presided over that building project and he, in turn, is shown to
be a type of Jesus Christ (ref. Haggai 2:21-23). Jesus was a descendent of
Zerubbabel, who himself was descended from David – both through the
regal line of Solomon and the line of Nathan, the ancestor of Jesus’ mother
Mary (ref. Matthew 1:12-16; Luke 3:27-31).
Thus the vision looks prophetically to the building of Yahweh’s true
sanctuary by His regal and priestly Servant who is the Branch of David
(cf. 3:1-6 with 6:9-15). And as with the physical temple built under
Zerubbabel’s oversight, the true temple constructed by the antitypal
Zerubbabel was to come to realization through the attending power of the
Spirit and not human power or might. The Lord’s true dwelling – signified
by the menorah – would be constructed by the provision of the Spirit of
Jesus, and that same Spirit would also fuel its everlasting, radiant light.
Supplied by His Spirit, the stones in Yahweh’s sanctuary would radiate the
light of the true Light to the ends of the earth. In that way, the Lord would
finally complete His eternal design to build Himself an everlasting
dwelling, forever attended with undying shouts of “Grace, grace to it!”
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2)
Closely related to the theme of light, and also a key thematic element in
John’s gospel, is the motif of life. The concepts of light and life are
interwoven at the very outset of John’s account and both remain central
points of focus throughout his gospel. The life that is inherent in the Logos
(1:1) has now come into the world in the person of the incarnate Son, and
that life – openly manifest in Him – shines into the darkness, illumining
Adam’s darkened race (cf. 1:4 with 8:12; also 2 Timothy 1:8-10).
And as was the case with the theme of light, one finds that John’s
association of Jesus (whom he explicitly presents as the fulfillment of the
concept of temple or sanctuary) with the principle of life has its point of
reference in the Old Testament and its developing promise of the
restoration of sacred space.
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The theme of life is also introduced in the very beginning at the
time of the first creation. At one level, the possession of life
characterizes the entire animate creation (Genesis 1:20ff), but at
another it is uniquely the property of man (Genesis 2:7). In that
regard it speaks to man’s unique participation as divine imagebearer in the life of God Himself. This aspect of life is spiritual,
and is the primary matter of concern in the rest of the Scripture.
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The nature of this life is revealed by its forfeiture and replacement
by death. If life and death are antithetical realities, and death is
shown to be grounded in estrangement from God, then life must
have its essence in intimacy with Him. Genesis, in fact, reveals that
man was created in the divine likeness for the express purpose of
such intimacy; he was created to be God’s image-son. Being divine
image-bearer, man’s self-knowledge depends upon his knowledge
of God; at whatever point man’s intimacy with God ceases, so does
his capacity to know himself and fulfill his created identity. In that
sense he dies, regardless of whether his physical processes
continue to operate. He is dead even while he lives.
-
Adam and Eve were seduced by the offer of independent equality
with God, but their newly-gained freedom resulted in estrangement
and, therefore, death. The curse that had come upon the creation
was its terminal alienation from its Creator (and thereby also from
itself), so that the promise of the protoevangelium (Genesis 3:15)
was ultimately the promise of Creator-creature reconciliation. The
renewal of life is the very heart of God’s recovery of sacred space.
God’s oath to conquer the serpent was the promise of life out of death, and
since this primal promise was the foundation of all of His subsequent
activity leading to His work of recovery in Christ, it is not surprising that
this theme is a central thread woven through all of salvation history.
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Renewal as life out of death is first portrayed in the Flood event.
There the truth of universal alienation and enmity was attested in a
divine act of global punishment and purging; The Lord brought
physical destruction upon the “dead” world in order that a living
remnant should reintroduce “life” into a cleansed “new creation.”
-
From there it is suggested in the Lord’s calling of Abraham. At
that time the patriarch was living as the son of a worshipper of
false gods in the midst of a pagan culture. Abraham existed in the
darkness and “death” of alienation from the true God, and
Yahweh’s call was a summons to life out of death; it was a call to
recovered relationship. He would be Abraham’s God and Abraham
and his descendents would be His people (Genesis 17:7-8).
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This theme is then explicitly bound to the Abrahamic Covenant in
that the covenant seed Isaac and Jacob were brought forth out of
barren wombs (cf. Genesis 11:29-30, 16:1-2, 17:15-19, 25:20-21).
So also the nation of Israel descended from the man Israel (Jacob)
enjoyed its own “genesis” of life out of death when Yahweh
brought it out of its fatal bondage and bestowed upon it the “life”
of communion with Him in His sanctuary-land.
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Centuries later the writing prophets promised another deliverance
when the Lord would restore a remnant from their captivity. This,
too, would be life out of death for the seed of Abraham. More
importantly, that miniscule physical restoration served as the
springboard for the prophets’ promise of a future universal
redemption in which Yahweh would “take captivity captive” by a
triumphal theophany in which He would deliver His creation from
the death of its estrangement and restore all things to Himself.
The promise of a redemptive and restorative theophany was the promise of
the “kingdom of God.” In this kingdom the Lord would at last fulfill the
principle of life out of death – not physical life out of a barren womb or
physical deliverance of a people from temporal bondage, but the recovery
of spiritual life through the vanquishing of Creator-creature alienation and
the recovery in perpetuity of true and full communion.
As it had been in the first creation, the prophets revealed that this work of
bringing forth life into a “dead” world was to be accomplished by the
Lord’s Spirit. At the appointed time, the Spirit would breathe life, not only
into the dead bones of the house of Israel (Ezekiel 37:1-14; cf. 36:16-29),
but the whole of Adam’s dead race (Joel 2:21-32; Micah 4:1-7). More than
that, He would renew the estranged and cursed creation in its entirety;
what had been portrayed in the abundant splendor of Eden would be
realized in consummate perfection (cf. Isaiah 32:9-20, 35:1-10).
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The prophets proclaimed that the “life” that is comprehensive renewal
would be effected by the life-giving power of God’s Spirit, but they also
associated His presence and renewing work with the coming of the Lord’s
Servant, the Davidic “Branch.” Renewal had its goal in reconciliation.
-
Thus the prophets revealed first that the Spirit would accomplish
His work in and through His indwelling presence in David’s Son
(Isaiah 11:1-11, 42:1-7, 6:1-11). That One was to be preeminently
the “man of the Spirit,” embodying in Himself what God intended
for His image-bearers. In the Spirit-filled Servant the prophets
disclosed Yahweh’s appointed destiny for the human race.
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But the prophetic connection between the Servant and God’s Spirit
wasn’t simply one of indwelling; the Spirit’s work of renewal was
to stand upon the Servant’s work of redemption. By His indwelling
presence, the Spirit would empower the Branch to accomplish the
redemptive work for which Yahweh was sending Him. Isaiah
prophesied that, anointed with the Lord’s Spirit, the Servant would
proclaim the great Jubilee – the “favorable year of the Lord” that is
the full release of all captivity (61:1-11). But He would do so by
virtue of His accomplishment, in the power of the same Spirit, of
God’s promised redemption and recovery (48:16-49:13, 59:1-21).
These things are central to the prophetic portrait of the kingdom as the
fulfillment of God’s promise to restore life to His creation and recover
sacred space. So the gospel writers, intent on showing that the kingdom
has been inaugurated in Jesus, labored to demonstrate that all that the
prophets had spoken of had been fulfilled in relation to Him. The promise
of the kingdom was the promise of life out of death, and the gospel writers
– and John in particular – insisted that this life has now come in Christ.
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At the outset of his gospel John declared that “in Him was the
life.” In context, this statement indicates that the eternal Logos
possessed the divine life. But that life continued in the incarnate
Word (1:14-18); Jesus is True God. John recognized that this truth
is crucial not only to the prophetic promise of Yahweh’s theophany
in establishing His kingdom, but also to his own contention that
Jesus is the fulfillment of the concept of sanctuary.
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The divine life existing in Jesus also affirms His status as True
Man. Man was created in God’s likeness, and the biblical narrative
emphasizes this by employing the imagery of God breathing His
own life into Adam, the image-son. The divine life animating and
communing with the human creature is the essence of what it
means for man to be man. And what was introduced in the first
Adam was consummated in fullness in the Last Adam.
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Thus life is in Christ, not only in the fullest sense, but in a unique sense.
In Him “all the fullness of deity dwells in bodily form”: From all eternity
He, as the second member of the triune Godhead, has possessed the life
that is peculiar to God. But, with the incarnation, that divine life now
resides forever in the unique theanthropos (God-Man).
In this sense life is uniquely the property of Jesus Christ. The fullness of
divine and human life exists in Him alone, and they do so in perfect (albeit
non-commingled) unity and harmony. In the hypostatic union God has
provided the greatest and most comprehensive explanation of both deity
and humanity: deity, because God’s self-revelation is thereby made most
thorough and accessible to human beings; and humanity in that, in Christ,
men are enabled for the first time to behold authentic humanness.
But God’s intention in the incarnation wasn’t primarily revelatory; it was
redemptive and restorative. The eternal Son became man not simply to
reveal God and man, but to reconcile God and man; the divine Word came
into the world as a new Adam in order to be the foundation of a new
creation and fountainhead of a new humanity. The Father sent His Son for
the express purpose that, through His redemptive work, He would
reconcile to Himself all things in His creation, making peace through His
self-sacrifice (Colossians 1:19-20). At the same time, that universal
reconciling work has its focal point in man, the image-son. The Father’s
goal in having all His fullness dwell in His incarnate Son was that
mankind should enter into its own created fullness by sharing in His
likeness (Colossians 2:8-10, 3:9-10; cf. 2 Corinthians 3:18; 2 Peter 1:2-4).
Stated differently, God’s eternal design was that, through the unique
Living One, His own life would flow out to the being created to be imageson. The Father’s goal is the obtainment of sons in the Son – a work of
consummate renewal and reconciliation in which Christ would be the firstborn among many brethren (Roman 8:28-29; Hebrews 2:5-17). His intent
was that, as He lives, they, too, should live.
But men enter into His life solely by faith in Him (John 5:24-27): They
come to Him as the “resurrection and the life” (John 11:5-27) and feed
upon Him as the “bread of life” (John 6:47-58). The recovery of life first
pledged in the protoevangelium has come in the Living One (Revelation
1:12-18). He holds the power of life and death and confers life upon
whomever He pleases, but He does so through the life-giving power of the
Spirit – the Spirit who now operates in the world as the Spirit of Christ:
“The first Adam became a living soul; the Last Adam a life-giving Spirit”
(ref. 1 Corinthians 15:45-49). God has recovered sacred space in the One
who is the fulfilled sanctuary, but He has done so in order that humanity
should become His everlasting dwelling in the Holy Spirit (ref. Ephesians
2:11-22; cf. 1 Corinthians 3:16-17; 2 Corinthians 6:14-16; Revelation 21).
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3)
A third important theme in the consideration of Jesus as the fulfillment of
sacred space is that of peace. Like light and life, the Bible everywhere
associates the motif of peace with its doctrine of God’s kingdom, and the
kingdom is nothing more than an expanded, comprehensive explanation of
sacred space. For sacred space refers to God’s relational presence in His
creation (especially as it is ordered in and through His human creature),
and that reality of divine lordship being exercised through man, the royal
image-son, is the very essence of the biblical concept of God’s kingdom –
whether as first expressed in the creational kingdom, later in the Israelite
kingdom, or in the fulfilled kingdom inaugurated in Christ.
If peace is a central theme in the doctrine of the kingdom, and if God’s
kingdom is concerned with sacred space and Jesus is the fulfillment of
sacred space (and so also the inaugurator of the kingdom), then the New
Testament witness to Jesus ought to be preoccupied with the notion of
peace. Stated differently, if the Old Testament promises a kingdom of
peace and the Christ event fulfilled the Scriptures, then Jesus’ work should
have a focal point in the matter of peace. Here again, this is exactly what
the New Testament witness declares. The One who has fulfilled sacred
space is the Prince of Peace.
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The place to begin in considering the motif of peace is with a
biblical definition. At the outset of this study it was seen that, in the
Scripture, peace signifies much more than the absence of conflict.
The fundamental sense of the Hebrew term shalom is wholeness and
the blessedness that accompanies it. It speaks to the absence of
conflict inasmuch as something that has integrity – in other words,
is undivided within itself – is unconflicted. At the macro level of the
whole creation, peace speaks to the condition in which every created
thing is characterized by perfect conformity to its true nature and
function in relation to itself and everything else. Peace is the
condition when the whole creation is defined by “integrity.” Thus
Plantinga: “The webbing together of God, humans, and all creation
in justice, fulfillment, and delight is what the Hebrew prophets call
shalom.” (Not the Way It’s Supposed to Be)
And given that the creation is just that – it is the product of a divine
Creator, the concept of peace has a focal point in the Creatorcreature relationship, and especially the divine-human relationship.
The reason is that man is more than another created thing; he is
uniquely created in God’s image and likeness for the purpose of
administering the divine rule as image-son. If shalom speaks to the
uncompromised, harmonious interrelation of all things, and if God
determined to relate to His creation through man, then, regardless of
the state of the rest of the created order, there can be no peace if the
divine-human relationship is compromised or corrupted.
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Given that the Scripture understands peace as the state of the
creation when it’s fully conformed to its true identity and function,
it’s not surprising that this concept emerges at the point of God’s
ordering of the first creation. While the term peace is absent from
the creation account, the concept is central to it. For after the
Creator-Lord completed His work of ordering and filling – setting
every created thing into its appointed domain and establishing the
mutual interrelationship of all His creatures under the lordship of
man, He pronounced it “very good.” By the affirmation of the
Creator Himself, the whole of creation was shalomic, and God
certified this perfect completion by establishing a perpetual shabbat.
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From the very beginning God revealed that His kingdom is
characterized by peace, the heart of which is delightful intimacy
between Creator-Father and image-son. The Fall devastated this
intimacy and erected an insurmountable barrier between God and
man, and therefore between God and the rest of the created order.
The peace that had defined the “very good” creation had been
replaced by estrangement and enmity; thus the promise to crush the
serpent was the promise to restore the creation to its shalomic state;
the recovery of sacred space would bring the recovery of peace.
-
With this background it becomes evident why the biblical storyline
introduces the terminology of peace within the context of the
Israelite kingdom. That kingdom represented the typological
fulfillment of the recovery first promised in Eden. The seed of
Abraham –the national extension at that time of the “seed of the
woman” – were being restored to the Creator-Lord by His
gathering them to Himself in His sanctuary-land. Adam’s
estranged descendents, expelled from God’s dwelling place in
Eden, had now been, as it were, restored to a new Eden.
God intended the Israelite theocracy to be a typological expression
of the kingdom structure first portrayed in Eden and then made a
matter of promissory oath after the Fall. As such, this kingdom was
itself to be characterized by the peace of divine Father and
covenant son dwelling together in perfect intimacy and harmonious
delight. But being merely a type of the true kingdom pledged in
Eden, the theocracy only held out the notion of peace as an ideal –
an ideal that it never saw realized.
Thus the biblical introduction of the theme of peace comes in
connection with Israel’s peace offering. Notably, God identified
this offering immediately after issuing the Ten Words, which stood
as the heart of His covenant with Israel (Exodus 20:22-24). This
highlights two crucial observations regarding the matter of peace:
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The first has already been touched upon, namely the fact that peace
is a relational concept. The peace offering was intended as a
tangible indicator of a person’s good standing before God; it didn’t
effect peace, but rather testified to it. It had its focal point in the
fellowship meal (Leviticus 7:11ff) and thus symbolized unhindered
communion between the covenant parties (cf. Exodus 24:1-11).
“The most joyous of all sacrifices was the peace-offering, or, as
from its derivation it might also be rendered, the offering of
completion. This was, indeed, a season of happy fellowship with
the Covenant God, in which he condescended to become Israel’s
Guest at the sacrificial meal, even as He was always their Host.”
(Edersheim, The Temple: Its Ministry and Services)
As such, it was offered only in the context of ritual blamelessness,
and thus followed a sin offering where the worshipper was in need
of atonement. The Israelite kingdom was to be the tangible
manifestation of the covenant relationship between Yahweh and
Abraham’s seed – a relationship defined by the “peace” of happy
intimacy, free of all corruption and separation.
The second observation proceeds out of the first and draws upon
the fact that the peace offering was one component of a complex
sacrificial system whose primary concern was atonement for sin.
The peace offering presupposed that there was no issue of
alienation or enmity between God and the offerer; it symbolized
that the offerer was, at that time, in full compliance with the terms
of the covenant.
Moreover, the fact that there should be such a thing as a peace
offering within the covenant definition suggested that peace
between the covenant parties wasn’t a foregone conclusion. And
by setting the peace offering alongside the sin offering, God left no
doubt that there existed a very real threat to the reality of peace:
the problem of human estrangement. In the end, the peace offering
only signified a ceremonial ideal; it spoke of a reality that existed
only in principle. The kingdom of God was to be a kingdom of
peace, but, from the very beginning, peace was conspicuously
absent from the Israelite theocracy. In spite of ceremonial
provision, estrangement and enmity defined the relationship
between Yahweh and His covenant son (Ezekiel 20:1-26).
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The Sinai Covenant highlighted and defined the relational nature
of God’s kingdom, but it didn’t secure that relationship; within its
provisions it spoke of and celebrated the principle of peace, but it
could not effect it. The Israelite kingdom was doomed to failure.
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The kingdom of Israel was never intended to fulfill the promise in
Eden; its role was purely prophetic and preparatory. Being a
typological representation of the true kingdom, it was necessarily
preoccupied with the matter of peace, but for the very same reason
it could not realize that peace. The fundamental alienation between
God and man continued throughout its duration, and soon Israel’s
prophets began to speak of a coming day of destruction and
desolation. The Israelite kingdom would not long endure, but its
decreed passing provided the platform for the parallel prophetic
promise of a future kingdom in which the oath of reconciliation
and peace would at last be realized.
At the same time that the prophets declared the certain end of
David’s kingdom, they promised a future recovery. The primal
oath of the Seed’s triumph over the serpent was the pledge of
reconciliation and the establishment of perfect, everlasting peace
between Creator and creation, and the end of the Israelite
theocracy didn’t spell the end of that commitment. What God had
promised in Eden He would surely bring to pass; at the appointed
time He would restore shalom in consummate fullness.
-
Yahweh would recover what humanity could not, but, just as He
had sworn that day in the garden, He would do so through a man.
Peace was to be recovered through a chosen descendent of Eve – a
man later revealed to be the covenant Seed of Abraham and royal
Branch of David. This connection is most explicit in Isaiah’s
prophecy, but extends through the other prophets as well (ref. esp.
Isaiah 9:1-7; also 11:1-9, 42:1-13, 32:1-20, 53:1-55:13, 61:1-7; cf.
Jeremiah 33:1-26; Ezekiel 34:1-31, 37:1-28; Amos 9:11-15; Micah
4:1-5:5; Nahum 1:11-15; Haggai 2:1-9; Zechariah 6:9-15, 9:9-12).
The prophets proclaimed that the promise of the kingdom was the
promise of everlasting peace, and this kingdom was to be
inaugurated by the Davidic king who is the Prince of Peace. For
this reason, the gospel writers are careful to emphasize the theme
of peace in their presentation of Jesus and His purpose in coming.
One aspect of this fulfillment that is often missed is related to
Jesus’ role as the true Israel. As Yahweh’s chosen “son,” Israel
was to live with Him in the intimate, unqualified devotion due a
Father. The covenant nation’s relationship with God was to be
shalomic, but was instead characterized throughout its history by
distrust, disloyalty, and lovelessness. Israel responded to Yahweh’s
faithful husbandry with unashamed and unrepentant adultery; in
every way, Israel failed to be Israel. In contrast, Jesus came as a
truly devoted son, living the shalomic life Israel could not.
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So also Jesus’ status as the agent of peace is directly associated
with His identity as the true David. Isaiah explicitly established
this connection (ref. again 9:1-7), which found historical precedent
in David’s role as Israel’s king. It was David who brought the
Israelite kingdom to its fullness and, under his reign, the Lord
secured peace and rest for His covenant “son” (2 Samuel 7:1-2).
Aware of these messianic themes, Luke was equally emphatic in
associating the newborn Son of David with the dawning of
Yahweh’s peace (1:67-79, 2:1-14). The birth of the Davidic seed
heralded the restoration of David’s royal house and kingdom – the
kingdom in which the long-awaited peace would at last be realized.
Finally, the issue of peace is associated with Jesus’ identity as true
Man. This relation is actually implied by the fact that He is the
true Israel, for Israel as a national entity represented a kind of
recovery of man back to God. The Lord’s calling and constituting
of Israel as His “son” reflected back on Adam’s sonship and the
symbolism of Eden being applied to Canaan only reinforced this
connection. If Israel was, in this sense, a “new Adam,” then the
true Israel was preeminently so. The importance of Jesus as the
Last Adam to the fulfillment of the promise of peace is two-fold:
First, peace is fundamentally relational, and is shown biblically to
have primary reference to the divine-human relationship. As noted
previously, whatever the relation of the rest of the creation to God,
if the relationship between Creator-Father and image-son isn’t
shalomic, there is no peace anywhere in the created order. Thus
Adam’s sin brought the whole creation under the curse of
alienation. The implication in the emergence of a new, shalomic
Adam is that the estrangement that flowed from the first Adam to
all of his descendents was now to be reversed. Christ would bring
peace by bringing mankind back to God.
Secondly, and by extension, the restoration of the divine-human
relationship implies the restoration of the Creator-creature
relationship in total. As death (estrangement) had come upon the
whole creation through the first Adam, so life would come in the
Last Adam, who is a life-giving Spirit. Thus the New Testament
everywhere insists that the peace secured by the Prince of Peace
extends beyond the relationship between God and men to embrace
the entire created order (cf. Isaiah 11:6-9 with Mark 4:35-41; Luke
4:31-35). The Creator’s ancient oath promised the overthrow of the
serpent, and so also the curse he had effected. The woman’s seed
had come to reconcile all things to God, making peace through the
blood of His cross (Colossians 1:19-20; cf. Ephesians 1:9-10). The
whole creation was to find its destiny and fullness in Him.
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2.
The Formation of Sacred Space in Christ
By His own affirmation, Jesus is the subject of all the Old Testament Scriptures. And
since the Old Testament is the record of God’s redemptive determination and its
progressive outworking on the stage of history, it follows that redemption has its focal
point in Christ’s person and work. But the ultimate goal of redemption is the recovery
and consummation of sacred space. God sent His Son into the world for the purpose of
renewing and restoring the whole creation to Himself; His eternal will is that, in the
administration of the fullness of the times, He would sum up all things in Christ Jesus.
Thus the New Testament affirms that Jesus is the fulfillment of sacred space. In Him and
by virtue of His work, the estranged creation has been reconciled to its Creator, the focal
point of which is the reconciliation of the Father and His image-son. And recognizing
that Jesus is the fulfillment of sacred space and that all of salvation history leading up to
His coming was determined by and directed toward this fulfillment, it becomes clear how
all things that preceded Christ come to converge in Him.
All things converge in Him, but they equally flow out of Him. Everything subsequent to
the “Christ event” presupposes and draws upon it just as everything before it anticipated
and prepared for it. And in that God’s ultimate purpose in Christ is the consummate
realization of sacred space, one would expect that, just as sacred space is fulfilled in Him,
so also it is formed in Him. This is exactly what the New Testament reveals, and it does
so in three primary ways.
a.
The first has logical primacy and points only indirectly to the formation of sacred
space in Jesus. This is the fact that He is presented as the destroyer of the earthly
temple. The temple epitomized sacred space as the realm in which God manifests
His relational presence in His creation, especially with respect to His imagebearer. Sacred space is God’s design for His creation, so that the indication of the
temple’s demise couldn’t help but raise the expectation of some sort of recovery.
1)
The Old Testament witness, in fact, shows that such an expectation is fully
warranted. Each manifestation of the Lord’s earthly sanctuary met its
appointed end: The portable tabernacle was superseded by Solomon’s
temple in Jerusalem, and that temple, in turn, was torn to the ground by
the Babylonians. Inasmuch as they were temporal and symbolic, the sons
of Israel should never have expected them to continue forever, and the
same applied to the second temple constructed under Zerubbabel.
During the time of its construction, the Lord sent Zechariah to Zerubbabel
and the recovered exiles to encourage them to complete their work of
rebuilding. Together with Haggai, he affirmed Yahweh’s presence with
them in their labors and His intention that the glory of this latter temple
would exceed that of its predecessor, however insignificant and inglorious
it appeared to them by comparison. Strength and resolve for their work
were to come, not from what they saw, but what Yahweh promised.
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And what He promised was that this second temple would indeed be
completed because it was appointed for an even greater glory – not in
physical grandeur and adornment, but in the peace that was coming to the
world in connection with it (Haggai 2:9). At the appointed time, Yahweh
Himself – not merely His glory-cloud as previously – would come to this
sanctuary in the person of the messenger of the covenant (Malachi 3:1).
The recovered exiles were to build with all confidence and zeal, not
because the second temple was itself ultimate, but because ultimacy – the
fulfillment of sacred space – was to come in relation to it. Zechariah
punctuated this truth by his reaffirmation to the exiles that the Davidic
Branch would build the true sanctuary (thus fulfilling Solomon’s work as
the typological fulfillment of the Davidic Covenant) (6:9-15). The exiles’
labors were vitally important in the outworking of Yahweh’s purposes, but
only as they carried forward His ancient promise. The sanctuary they were
building was to serve a prophetic and preparatory role in anticipation of
the Branch and Yahweh’s true house (cf. again 4:1-10).
The fact that the second temple looked to a sanctuary beyond it implied
that, like the tabernacle and Solomon’s temple, it was not to continue
forever. Even if by virtue of fulfillment rather than physical destruction, it
would not long endure. But more than its prophetic significance, the
second temple’s short lifespan was indicated by the fact that it was erected
and existed in the context of Israel’s continued covenant unfaithfulness.
The nation’s spiritual adultery had brought the destruction of the first
temple; how, then, would its replacement escape the same fate?
2)
What the prophets intimated regarding the end of the second temple the
New Testament gospel accounts explicitly proclaim. The arrival of
David’s Branch indicated the passing of Zerubbabel’s temple, a truth that
Jesus Himself affirmed by His words as well as His redemptive work.
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After introducing Jesus as the incarnate Word who is the
tabernacle of Yahweh among men (1:1-18), John records Jesus’
own declaration that He is the true sanctuary (2:18-22). So it was
that, when a Samaritan woman later questioned Him regarding the
place where men are to meet with God, Jesus explained that, with
His coming, the worship of God was no longer a matter of
geographical proximity, but authentic spiritual intimacy. Jesus’
presence in the world meant the fulfillment of sacred space, and
this meant the obsolescence of the temple in Jerusalem (4:1-24).
And what Jesus implied by His identity as the true sanctuary He
made explicit by pronouncing Jerusalem’s coming destruction. The
temple would indeed pass away, but not strictly by fulfillment; it,
too, was to be torn down (Mark 13:1-2; cf. Luke 19:41-46).
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-
Jerusalem, as the “city of the great King,” and the temple, as His
throne, were to be destroyed because of unbelief and rejection. Not
recognizing the day of Yahweh’s redemptive visitation (cf. Luke
1:68-69), Jerusalem was to again be made desolate, never to be
restored to its former glory. The reason was not the seriousness of
her sin, but the fact of fulfillment. By virtue of Christ’s atoning
death, resurrection, and enthronement as the Son of David, sacred
space had at last been fulfilled. Zion was now to be restored, but as
a spiritual dwelling and sanctuary rather than a physical one (ref.
Isaiah 52:1-54:17). The physical sanctuary – which had served to
separate God and man as much as bring them together – had
served its pedagogical purpose; true intimacy had been secured in
connection with the true sanctuary, putting an end to the veil of
separation between divine Father and image-son (Matthew 27:51).
Thus the end of Zerubbabel’s temple signified two things:
b.
1.
First, it paralleled the destruction of Solomon’s temple, testifying to the
estrangement between Yahweh and His chosen people. The Jerusalem
temple epitomized the covenant relationship between God and Israel (ref.
Exodus 25:1-8). It spoke of the Father’s faithful and loving commitment to
His “son” and the son’s privileged obligation of sincere, single-minded
devotion. Israel’s rejection of its covenant Father reached its apex with its
rejection of His singular Son (John 8:41-42, 15:20-25; cf. Matthew 21:3342; John 19:12-15), and Yahweh testified to that rejection by destroying
the symbol of covenant intimacy (cf. Luke 21:20-24, 23:27-31).
2.
But more than that, the destruction of the second temple showed Israel and
the world that it had served its prophetic and preparatory purpose. What
the temple symbolized and held out in promise had now been realized in
Jesus, the true sanctuary. The tearing of the veil at the moment of Christ’s
death poignantly affirmed this, and Yahweh wasn’t about to allow the
Jews to repair the veil of separation and continue their shadowy ritual
worship when the substance had come (cf. John 1:17 and Matthew 5:17
with Matthew 12:1-8 and John 5:45-47; note also Colossians 2:11-17).
In His person and by His work Jesus effectively brought an end to the physical
second temple. But consistent with the nature and basis of that destruction, He is
equally the builder of the new temple.
1)
This, too, was promised in the Old Testament, specifically in relation to
David and the Davidic Covenant. David had desired to build a permanent
sanctuary for Yahweh, and He had responded by promising His king that a
son of his would build His house (2 Samuel 7:1-13). Later, the prophet
Zechariah reiterated this covenant oath in connection with the construction
of the second temple (ref. again 4:1-11, 6:9-15).
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2)
The Lord’s promise that David’s son would build His house had its first
point of fulfillment in the incarnation. In the person of Jesus, the promise
of an everlasting divine dwelling among men found its preeminent
realization in the conjoining of deity and humanity (Colossians 1:19, 2:9).
But even as all things find their terminus in Him, so also, all things under
His redemption have their source and life in Him. Jesus has erected God’s
sanctuary by taking on our humanity, but now He is extending that
building by communicating His own consummate humanity to Adam’s
race. As Zechariah prophesied, the Branch is the sole builder of Yahweh’s
house, but He is doing so in connection with the labors of those who have
come to Him (cf. 6:13, 15, with Matthew 16:13-18, 28:18-20).
c.
The third facet of the formation of sacred space in Jesus Christ is closely related
to the second. Christ is the builder of the true sanctuary, but He is building it upon
Himself as its foundation. This reflects, again, the fact that everything subsequent
to Christ’s redemption presupposes and stands upon it. Whatever the particular
aspect of the new creation or its form or extent in the present age, it is “in Christ.”
1)
As with the preceding two considerations, this one is equally a matter of
promise and fulfillment:
In a psalm of praise and celebration commemorating Yahweh as the sure
refuge and point of deliverance (“salvation”) for those who trust in Him,
the psalmist introduces a rejected stone that Yahweh makes the chief
cornerstone (118:22-23). He then associates the “day of salvation” with
the Lord’s assignment of the stone as the “head of the corner” and calls for
rejoicing and gladness in it (v. 24, cf. vv. 19-22). Furthermore, he
indicates that Yahweh was sending this stone in His own name (v. 26).
The association of messianic and stone imagery is perhaps most
pronounced in Daniel’s prophecy. There, as part of his interpretation of
one of Nebuchadnezzar’s dreams, Daniel spoke of an uncut stone that was
to destroy the kingdoms of the world and then grow to become a mountain
– representing an everlasting kingdom – filling the whole earth (2:36-45).
This imagery, in turn, reflected earlier prophetic content set forth by
Isaiah. He, too, spoke of a mountain – the mountain of the Lord that is His
dwelling place – becoming the earth’s prominent feature such that all the
earth’s inhabitants would come to know Him and worship and serve Him
at His everlasting sanctuary (2:1-4). Later, Isaiah specifically associated
that phenomenon with the coming of the Davidic Branch. By virtue of His
presence and work on the Lord’s behalf, the knowledge of Yahweh would
“cover the earth as the waters cover the sea.” The Abrahamic promise of
universal blessing was to be realized in David’s Son (11:1-10); He would
serve as the foundation for Yahweh’s true kingdom and its fullness.
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And like the psalmist, Isaiah also spoke of a stone appointed by Yahweh –
a stone rejected by some but a refuge for others. So it is that the context
for introducing this stone was the prophetic promise of divine judgment on
the one hand and divine deliverance on the other (ref. 8:11-15, 28:16).
At that time desolation and exile were impending for both Israel and Judah
because they had refused to listen to Yahweh and keep His covenant. Yet
Judah’s rulers believed and promoted the idea that destruction would not
come (28:1-15). They had sought refuge in the “rocks” of falsehood and
deception, but the Lord was going to raise up a true stone such that all
who fled to it for refuge would indeed find security and peace.
Parallel to this, Yahweh insisted to the king of Judah that he and his nation
were deluded in their hope of finding security in earthly alliances. The
house of David would stand intact, not because of natural powers, but
because of Immanuel – because of the Lord’s presence and commitment to
His covenant with David (7:1-16). As with Israel to the north, those who
sought refuge and security in an earthly “rock” would be undone; to them
Yahweh would become “a stone to strike and a rock to stumble over, a
snare and a trap for the inhabitants of Jerusalem.” But to all who
believed and trusted His word of promise and sought refuge in Him, He
would become a true and secure sanctuary (8:1-15).
From the beginning, the Lord presented Himself to Israel as their rock
(Deuteronomy 31:30-32:44). He was their sure refuge and place of
deliverance and security. This being the case, it was fitting that the
messianic Servant became associated with this same imagery. In His great
day of salvation, Yahweh would fulfill His role as His people’s “rock,” but
He would do so in His chosen and precious stone – the stone that would
then become the chief cornerstone for the true sanctuary (alternatively, the
sacred “mountain” that would grow to fill the whole earth). Sacred space
was to find its fulfillment and fullness in the Stone.
2)
As expected, this important Old Testament imagery was picked up by the
New Testament writers and applied to Jesus of Nazareth. They understood
that, if He were indeed the Christ, He must be Yahweh’s precious
cornerstone. But more than simply making the connection themselves
(Acts 4:1-12; Ephesians 2:19-20; 1 Peter 2:4-8), they recorded Jesus’ own
claim to that identity (Matthew 21:33-44). He is the “stone of stumbling”
in whom men realize “rising” or “falling” as they either look to Him in
faith or seek other “rocks of refuge” (cf. Romans 9:30-33; Luke 2:34-35).
But more than the place of safe and secure refuge for men, Jesus is the
chief cornerstone – the Living Stone upon whom Yahweh’s sanctuary is
being constructed. He is building His Church upon Himself as the Lord’s
Christ (Matthew 16:15-18) and the Last Adam (1 Corinthians 15:45-49).
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V.
The Ultimacy of Sacred Space in the New Creation
The recovery and consummation of sacred space is God’s overarching and all-encompassing
goal for His creation. This is the “summing up of all things in the heavens and earth in Christ” in
which Father, Son, and Spirit will have reconciled the whole creation and brought it – with man
as the focal point – into perfect, everlasting communion with them.
Sacred space is fulfilled and reformed in Jesus Christ, and His central place in this
comprehensive work of renewal and recovery highlights the fact that it focuses on the
divine/human relationship. The goal of God’s work of redemption is the consummation of His
relationship with His image-son, and this work – in every respect – is wholly Christocentric.
Sacred space – first revealed in the Garden and then portrayed with increasing clarity in God’s
covenant dealings culminating with the Israelite kingdom – has been fulfilled in Christ and is
presently being formed upon Him as its foundation. But another component is crucial to the
equation, and that is the permanence of His work. The renewal and recovery that Jesus effected
must be ultimate to be of full and eternal value. More than that, if they aren’t final and ultimate,
they haven’t fulfilled the promise set out in the Scriptures; in that case, Jesus isn’t the Christ.
But the truth is that Jesus is the promised Priest-King and He has ushered in everlasting
righteousness by His self-offering as the Lord’s Christ and the Last Adam.
A.
New Creation in Christ – the Restoration of Zion
In considering the ultimacy of Jesus’ work it is appropriate once again to return to the promises
of the Old Testament and compare them with the New Testament’s presentation of and
commentary upon Him and what He has accomplished. Does it affirm the notion that He has
permanently restored the whole creation to God and inaugurated the everlasting kingdom as the
prophets declared the Messiah would? In answering that question it is arguably best to begin
most broadly, and that means starting with the concept of Zion. The reason is that it embraces
virtually every theme and component associated with Old Testament kingdom theology as it
predicts and portrays the final and full recovery of sacred space.
1.
Development and Significance of the Zion Motif
a.
Zion as a Physical Concept
Importantly, the Scripture first introduces the concept of Zion in relation to
David’s conquest of Jerusalem. Having reconciled and united the twelve tribes of
Israel under his kingship, David turned his attention to the Jebusite city of
Jerusalem. Since Israel’s initial conquest of Canaan under Joshua – and despite
numerous assaults upon the city through the intervening centuries, Jerusalem had
remained outside of Israelite control. Now David set his sights upon it, not as
another point of conquest in expanding his kingdom, but with the conviction that,
in Jerusalem, the law of the central sanctuary would finally be fulfilled
(Deuteronomy 12:1-14, 14:22-26, 16:1-11, etc.). Jerusalem would become the
“city of David,” but such that David would establish Yahweh’s sanctuary and
royal seat there (2 Samuel 5:7-9; cf. 1 Kings 8:1 and 1 Chronicles 29:23).
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b.
1)
From that time forward, Zion was associated with Jerusalem as the capital
of the Israelite kingdom (later, the capital of Judah) (Psalm 51:18, 147:12;
etc.). In that regard, Zion represented first of all the seat of David’s
kingdom. But, more importantly, it represented the city of the Great King;
Jerusalem was God’s chosen dwelling place and the seat of His dominion
(ref. Psalm 48:1-3, 76:1-2, 135:21; cf. also Matthew 5:34-35). There His
glory-presence resided between the wings of the cherubim in the Holy of
Holies with the ark serving as the symbolic footstool of His throne (2
Samuel 6:2; 1 Chronicles 28:2; cf. also Psalm 99:1-2, 132:7 and Exodus
25:17-22). Thus men came into Jerusalem to meet with and worship Him,
and out from Jerusalem flowed the administration of His rule.
2)
Jerusalem’s elevated topography (2 Samuel 19:34; 1 Kings 12:27-28; cf.
also Zechariah 14:16-17) together with its status as Yahweh’s sanctuary
led to another component of Zion symbolism. As Zion referred to the city
of the Great King, so it also denoted Mount Zion – the mountain of His
sanctuary (cf. Psalm 48:1-3, 74:2; 2 Kings 19:20-31; Isaiah 10:12, 24:23;
also Isaiah 2:1-3; Micah 4:1-2). The concept of the Lord’s dwelling as a
holy mount existed long before the conquest of Jerusalem (ref. Exodus
15:17), and so it was natural – as well as geographically appropriate
(Psalm 125:1-2) – that Zion should extend to the notion of Mount Zion.
Zion as a Relational Concept
The Scripture associates the motif of Zion first and foremost with the city of
Jerusalem as the capital of the Israelite kingdom. But Jerusalem was much more
than a capital city because the kingdom of Israel was more than just another
earthly empire. The Israelite kingdom was a covenant kingdom: Yahweh was the
true King in Israel and the citizens of the kingdom were His covenant children.
And so, over time Zion’s initial signification was broadened to embrace another
crucial point of symbolism. Jerusalem (Zion) was the seat of the covenant
kingdom; it was the place of Yahweh’s residence from which He exercised His
reign and communed with His covenant children. Jerusalem epitomized sacred
space, and for that reason Zion later came to symbolize the covenant relationship
between Yahweh and Israel (ref. Isaiah 1:21-23), and then, by metaphorical
extension, the people of Israel themselves as His covenant children.
It is in this respect that the prophets began to speak of Zion as Yahweh’s covenant
wife whose obligation of faithfulness was to bear faithful children for Him (cf.
Isaiah 50:1 with 49:14-23, 54:1-17; also Hosea 1:2 and 2:1-16). Thus they
referred to the children of Israel collectively as the daughter of Zion (cf. Isaiah
1:1-8, 37:21-22, 52:1-9, 62:1-12; Jeremiah 6:1-2; etc.) and individually as sons of
Zion (Lamentations 4:1-2; Joel 2:23; Zechariah 9:13). If Zion served as the central
symbol for the covenant kingdom, it preeminently symbolized the covenant
relationship between Yahweh and Abraham’s seed that defined that kingdom.
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c.
Zion as a Messianic Concept
Inasmuch as the concept of Zion enfolds all of the Bible’s kingdom themes, it’s
not surprising that it is also richly messianic. Zion was the seat of both Yahweh’s
dominion and that of His regal son-king. All of the glories of the Israelite
kingdom were epitomized in Zion and the Lord’s sanctuary as its central feature.
Jerusalem was the city where the Great King was enthroned; it was, in that sense,
the “holy ground” that bridged heaven and earth. And as Zion symbolized the
kingdom of Israel, so that kingdom was itself a prefiguration of its eschatological
counterpart to be inaugurated by Yahweh’s Servant/Messiah. Like its typological
predecessor, the messianic kingdom was to have its focal point in Zion.
1)
Zion’s connection with Old Testament messianism derives foundationally
from their mutual association with David and the Davidic Covenant.
David conquered Jerusalem in order to make it the capital of his kingdom
and the site of the central sanctuary. By bringing the ark to Jerusalem
David symbolically enthroned Yahweh on Mount Zion, subsequently
fulfilling that symbolism by securing the fullness of the physical kingdom
covenanted to Abraham (2 Samuel 6-8). In its glory as the political and
spiritual capital of God’s covenant kingdom, Zion was indeed the city of
David. David was responsible for bringing the Israelite expression of the
kingdom to its height of power and extension, and it was in connection
with his kingship that the Lord promised him a son in whom his dynastic
house and kingdom (which were to be, in their fulfillment, synonymous
with Yahweh’s house and kingdom) would be established forever.
Thus the Scripture’s intimate association of messianism with David and
the Davidic Covenant necessarily drew in the theme of Zion as well. If
Zion was the city of David from which he ruled Yahweh’s kingdom, then
it followed that the covenanted Son of David would also be enthroned in
and reign from Zion (ref. Psalm 2, 110; cf. Micah 4:1-8 with 5:1-4).
2)
The Son of David was appointed to establish and rule over Yahweh’s
house and kingdom forever, and this implied the establishment of Zion as
the everlasting focal point of that kingdom. More specifically, the
Scripture indicated that Messiah would establish the kingdom through His
personal triumph over God’s enemies. By His victory He would deliver
the captive people and restore them to their covenant Lord and Father.
Messiah’s work was to be one of comprehensive renewal and recovery,
and this promise accordingly had a central thread in Zion’s future
glorification. The Son of David would rule over Yahweh’s kingdom from
His throne in the midst of glorified Zion. This theme is prominent in
Isaiah’s prophecy (cf. in context 28:14-16, 40:1-10, 46:12-13, 51:1-11,
52:1-9, 59:1-60:14, 62:1-12, 66:1-13), but weaves throughout the
prophetic literature (cf. Psalm 87, 102:11-22, 110:1-10; Jeremiah 3:6-17,
31:1-40; Joel 2:23-32; Micah 4:1-5:5; Zechariah 9:9-17).
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2.
Desolation of Zion in the Typological Kingdom
Because Zion – as the seat of the Israelite kingdom and site of the Lord’s sanctuary –
represented the covenant relationship between Yahweh and His chosen “son,” the
continuance of Zion depended upon the continuing integrity of the covenant; any
violation of the covenant relationship constituted a defiling assault on Zion. And
inasmuch as God was ever a faithful Father and Husband to Israel, it was Israel’s
conformity to the covenant that would determine Zion’s fate. Moses was emphatic in this
regard before the sons of Israel had even entered the promised land of Canaan. Covenant
fidelity would yield enduring prosperity and blessing in Yahweh’s sanctuary-land;
unfaithfulness, on the other hand, would result in desolation and exile. If Israel despised
the covenant, Yahweh would drive them from His presence (Deuteronomy 28).
The centuries following Israel’s inheritance of Canaan saw the covenant nation giving
itself to perpetual violation of the covenant. For His part, the Lord responded by sending
Israel a stream of prophetic messengers calling for repentance and reiterating Moses’
warning about punishment and captivity (Jeremiah 7:25-26). But His patient entreaty was
to no avail (Jeremiah 3:1-10). Yahweh’s covenant son had hardened himself against the
Father, and the day of His patience and mercy finally came to an end. The day had come
for Zion to be stripped of her glory and privilege (cf. Jeremiah 4:5-13, 6:1-2, 22-26).
a.
The covenantal concept of Zion had its origin in David’s conquest of Jerusalem
and his subsequent appointment of the city as the site of the central sanctuary.
Thus it was fitting that God should provide the first firm indication of Zion’s
demise in the severing of David’s royal line (Jeremiah 22:24-30). Even as it was
the site of Yahweh’s throne, Zion was the royal seat of David’s dynasty (cf. 2
Samuel 5:5 with 1 Chronicles 29:23), so that the destruction of David’s dynastic
house signaled the same for the seat of his kingdom. David’s kingship was the
foundation for Zion’s existence; the demise of his dynasty heralded Zion’s end.
b.
The covenant at Sinai had formalized the relationship between God and Israel,
and His enthronement in the sanctuary on Mount Zion in the midst of His people
had epitomized their mutual communion. For centuries Israel had effectively
denied that communion by its disregard and idolatry, and now it was Yahweh’s
turn to testify to the hopelessly fractured relationship. The covenant son had long
since departed from the Father; the Father was now going to abandon His son.
Thus Zion’s destruction – signified first by the severing of David’s dynasty –
found its most poignant sign in the departure of Yahweh’s Shekinah from the
Holy of Holies. As promised, David’s son had built a house for Him, and the Lord
had filled Solomon’s temple with His glory-presence (1 Kings 8:1-11). Now, that
sanctuary was ichabod: The glory had departed from Israel. Appropriately, it was
to His faithful priest Ezekiel – himself already exiled to Babylon – that the Lord
first made His departure known (10:1-11:23). Ezekiel beheld Yahweh’s departure
in a vision and he understood what it implied: However long Jerusalem and its
temple may continue to stand, Zion had been made desolate.
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c.
3.
Shortly after God severed David’s line He removed His glory-presence from the
sanctuary in Jerusalem. Those two events signaled the end of David’s kingdom,
and within a decade the two primary physical embodiments of the concept of Zion
– the city of Jerusalem and its temple – were destroyed by the Babylonians. Zion
spoke of the covenant relationship between Father and son, and the departure of
the Father’s glory-presence was followed by His banishment of His son from His
sanctuary-land. Zion – the unfaithful covenant wife who had born only adulterous
children for Yahweh – was now stripped of her children and made barren (cf.
Isaiah 50:1-3; Lamentations 1:1-15, 2:18-22; Ezekiel 5:1-17; Hosea 2:1-6; etc.).
Restoration of Zion in the Fulfilled Kingdom
The prophetic pronouncement of Zion’s desolation was everywhere accompanied by the
Lord’s promise of future restoration. That promise had its first historical referent in the
return to Jerusalem of three contingents of Judean exiles during the reigns of Cyrus and
Artaxerxes (ref. Ezra 1:1ff, 7:1-7 and Nehemiah 1:1-2:11). The recovery of the Judean
remnant had been openly predicted by the pre-exilic prophets, but their prophecies also
importantly indicated that that recovery wouldn’t fulfill the promise of Zion’s restoration.
-
If the earlier prophets weren’t sufficiently clear about that, the prophets of the
Judean restoration left no doubt. Haggai and Zechariah encouraged the people to
rebuild the temple, but Zechariah, in particular, was careful to emphasize that the
true restoration of Zion – being inseparable from the promises of the Davidic
Covenant – awaited the coming of the Davidic Branch (cf. 4:1-10 with 6:9-15).
-
So also Nehemiah later presided over the reconstruction of Jerusalem’s walls, but
under much opposition and only as a grant from the governing Medo-Persian
authority. The city’s walls symbolized her sovereign power and security under
Yahweh, and so, like the newly-constructed temple, Jerusalem’s restoration spoke
only of promise for the future; Israel remained a vassal state under Gentile rule.
The city and its temple may have been restored, but that wasn’t the case for the theocratic
kingdom as expressed by the concept of Zion. No son of David sat on the throne of Israel,
and – much more than that – the Lord’s Shekinah remained absent from Zerubbabel’s
temple. Yahweh’s glory-presence would indeed return to His sanctuary, but only in
connection with the coming of the messianic messenger of the covenant (cf. Malachi 3:1
with Isaiah 48:16; also Isaiah 42:1 with John 1:14-18, 29-34, 2:18-19 and Luke 4:14-19).
The absence of a Davidic king and the empty Holy of Holies in the new temple were
sufficient in themselves to indicate that the restoration of Zion remained a future hope,
but that truth was reinforced by the way the prophets described Zion’s rebirth.
a.
Zion’s recovery awaited the coming of the Son of David, but the reason for His
coming and the work He was to accomplish showed that her recovery was to be
cataclysmic, comprehensive, transformational, and ultimate. The restoration of
Zion indicated, not the reinstatement of the former kingdom, but the inauguration
of a whole new order; Zion’s rebirth meant a new genesis – a new beginning.
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This is evident across the prophetic record, but it is arguably most pronounced in
Isaiah’s prophecy. Zion would be restored by virtue of the redemptive work of
David’s Branch (ref. 52:1-54:17), and that restoration would usher in an
everlasting, unbounded kingdom characterized by consummate rest and peace
(9:7, 32:9-20, 52:1-10, 54:1-17). The reason is that Branch’s redemption would
deliver the whole creation from the curse and effect its complete renewal (11:1-9,
35:1-10; cf. also 55:1-13 with Genesis 3:17-19). Most importantly, this work
would extend to the creature man: Being God’s image-son, man’s redemption
would bring reconciliation between him and his Creator-Father. Thus, in the day
of Zion’s restoration, Yahweh would once again be in her midst (12:1-5, 60:1-14).
b.
The scriptures of the Old Testament are adamant that Zion’s restoration would be
nothing less than the full and everlasting renewal of the entire created order. This
transformation was to occur in conjunction with the coming of David’s promised
Seed and His redemptive work; thus one would expect the New Testament to
present Jesus of Nazareth and describe His saving work in these terms.
The New Testament scriptures meet this expectation, and do so most broadly in
terms of the concept of a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17; Galatians 6:12-15).
This comprehensive “newness” speaks of a new age embracing a new humanity
related to God through a new covenant (cf. Luke 5:30-39, 22:20; Ephesians 2:116, 4:17-24; Colossians 3:1-11; etc.). At the same time, this renewal is
characterized by the overarching fulfillment principle of “already but not yet.”
That is to say, every aspect of the new creation was inaugurated by Christ in its
essential substance, but everything yet awaits the fullness of its transformation.
The curse has been overturned and its infernal architect conquered and
constrained (cf. Matthew 12:22-29; John 12:23-31, 16:1-11; Colossians 2:13-15;
Hebrews 2:14-15; Revelation 12:1-11). Nevertheless, Satan is still the “prince of
the power of the air,” seeking to devour men as a roaring lion (1 Peter 5:8; cf. also
2 Corinthians 2:5-11, 4:1-4; Ephesians 2:1-3; James 4:1-7; 1 John 4:4).
Likewise, God’s image-son has been recreated in the likeness of the divine Son
and Last Adam (2 Corinthians 5:17; Ephesians 2:1-16, 4:17-24, 5:6-10;
Colossians 3:1-11; etc.). And yet, “it has not presently appeared what we shall be”
(1 John 3:1-2). Moreover, the “not yet” of our present renewal embraces both our
spiritual and physical humanity (ref. esp. Romans 8:18-25; cf. also 1 Corinthians
15:1-28; 2 Corinthians 4:1-18; Philippians 1:6, 3:1-21; Colossians 3:1-4).
So also, God has restored His glory-presence to His sanctuary (Ezekiel 43:1-5).
However, His dwelling place is no longer a physical structure but the souls of
men (cf. John 14:16-17 with Acts 2:1-18; also 1 Corinthians 3:16-17, 6:17-20;
Ephesians 2:11-22). In the age of promise Zion represented both God’s dwelling
place and His relationship with His people; now, in Christ – the fulfilled sanctuary
– those representations have converged. Zion has been restored as a living,
spiritual house, though it, too, awaits the fullness to come (Revelation 21:1-22:5).
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B.
Union with Christ – the Coming of the Spirit
If it is true that the recovery of sacred space involves the ushering in of a new creation, it is
equally true that that renewal uniquely implicates the person and work of the Holy Spirit.
Whether one considers the matter of God’s creative activity or His purpose and work respecting
His kingdom (both of which play a central role in the concept of sacred space), the scriptural
record places the Holy Spirit in the forefront. This is as true of Old Testament promise as it is of
New Testament fulfillment: The promise of the kingdom had a core emphasis in the coming of
the Spirit, first and foremost in relation to the Lord’s messianic Servant and Davidic Branch.
1.
The Spirit and Sacred Space in Promise
a.
The place to begin with the promise of the Spirit in relation to sacred space is the
creation itself. The reason is that the creation account provides the Bible’s first
indication and representation of sacred space, and there the Spirit is introduced as
the direct agent of God’s creative activity. But more than simply the effective
power behind the material creation, the Spirit was the point of its ordering and
expansion. The Genesis account indicates that God’s ultimate goal for His
creation was harmonious perfection and fullness and the blessedness of shalom in
Creator/creature intimacy: His goal was that the created order should become
sacred space, and it was the Spirit through whom He determined to accomplish
this glorious work (Genesis 1:1-25; cf. also Psalm 104:24-31).
The Spirit brought forth and ordered the various spheres of dominion and the
rulers of those spheres, and the crowning work of that enterprise was the creation
of the supreme creaturely lord who bears in himself the divine image and likeness.
The divine Spirit who, on Elohim’s behalf (“let us make man in our image”),
brought forth the image-son, did so by communicating to him the breath of divine
life (ref. 1:26-27, 2:7). In this way, the First Adam was already at the outset
pointing toward and anticipating the Last Adam (Matthew 1:18-20; Luke 1:35).
At the time of the original creation, man, the image-son, was brought forth in
distinction from the rest of the creatures and uniquely endowed for communion
with his Creator-Father by the power of the Holy Spirit. Later, this same dynamic
was reproduced in the calling and establishment of Israel as the singular “son of
God” (cf. Luke 3:38 with Exodus 4:22-23; Hosea 11:1). The Old Testament
narrative broadly attributes Israel’s “creation” as a covenant nation to the power
of Yahweh Himself (ref. Genesis 15:13-14; Exodus 3:7-8, 15:1-18; cf. also
Deuteronomy 32:7-14; Ezekiel 16:1-4; Hosea 11:1; etc.), but certain biblical
commentary on that episode identifies the Lord’s Spirit as the agent of that work
(ref. esp. Isaiah 63:7-14; also Haggai 2:4-5).
b.
As the Spirit was the effective agent of God’s creative activity, so also, in the
salvation history leading up to the coming of Christ, He was God’s presence and
power within the creation. This is most evident in relation to God’s involvement
with His covenant people Israel.
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1)
The first thing to note in this regard is that the Holy Spirit was the present
power of God for constructing His dwelling in the midst of His people.
First of all, the nation itself was preeminently the Lord’s dwelling place in
that He determined to reside in their midst as their God and Father (cf.
Exodus 29:45-46; Numbers 5:1-3, 35:34; Haggai 2:4-5). The Spirit “built”
and inhabited this dwelling by being Yahweh’s personal presence among
the community of Abraham’s covenant seed (Isaiah 63:11).
But the Spirit also constructed the Lord’s dwelling by empowering
Yahweh’s chosen craftsmen to build His physical sanctuary in the
wilderness (cf. Exodus 25:1-8 with 31:1-11 and 35:30-35). And while the
text doesn’t explicitly associate the Spirit with the later construction of
Solomon’s temple, it does implicate Him indirectly. For Solomon was the
chief architect and overseer of that project (1 Kings 6:1-2) and, being
Yahweh’s chosen king, He would have anointed Solomon with His Spirit
(1 Samuel 16:13-14). Beyond that, it’s not unreasonable to attribute
Solomon’s unique wisdom and understanding to the Spirit’s endowment.
In the case of Zerubabbel’s temple, however, the text leaves no doubt that
it was the product of the Spirit’s power (Haggai 2:4-5; Zechariah 4:1-10).
2)
c.
The Spirit who constructed Yahweh’s dwelling place in the midst of His
covenant people was also responsible for sustaining and preserving that
dwelling. Once again, He did so by means of His active presence and
power among them – first in relation to Moses, then the elders of Israel,
and then Moses’ successor Joshua (Numbers 11:1-29; 27:15-21). After
that, the Spirit continued to direct and preserve Israel through the nation’s
judges (Judges 3:10, 6:34, 13:24-25, etc.), kings (1 Samuel 16:13-14) and
prophets (2 Chronicles 15:1, 18:12-27, 20:14, 24:20; cf. Nehemiah 9:30).
Even the prophet Balaam, who was poised to pronounce a curse on
Yahweh’s covenant “house,” was restrained from doing so by His Spirit
and compelled instead to proclaim Israel’s blessing (Numbers 24:1-9).
This background of the Spirit’s role in the material creation and in the formation,
development, and preservation of Yahweh’s dwelling place is foundational to the
Scripture’s presentation of Him as a central figure in the promise of the recovery
of sacred space. The Holy Spirit was God’s presence and power behind the
germinal Edenic expression of sacred space as well as its more developed
manifestations in the Israelite kingdom. For that reason it isn’t at all surprising
that the prophets would speak of the promised, ultimate form of sacred space as
being the work of Yahweh’s Spirit.
1)
Just as the Spirit was the effective agent of the first creation, so He would
be with respect to the promised re-creation. He had brought forth the earth
and its living inhabitants as an ex-nihilo fiat, and that sort of life-out-ofdeath creational activity was to be repeated in the case of the renewal of
the latter days (ref. Ezekiel 36:22-37:14; cf. also 43:1-5 with 47:1-12).
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2)
Man, the image-son, had been the apex of the Spirit’s work of creation. If
the Spirit’s mandate was to bring order and fullness to the created order
such that it would be suitable for rightful, blessed relation with its CreatorGod, that shalomic work had its focal point in the creation of man. For
God’s intention was that man would administer and uphold the shalomic
order of His creation in the context of his own filial communion with his
Creator-Father. While sacred space embraced the relation between the
Creator and the whole of His creation, it was to be centered in the
relationship between divine Father and image-son. Sacred space meant
God relating to the created order through man.
So it was that the prophets’ promise of the coming comprehensive renewal
was conspicuously focused on the renewal and restoration of the human
race. The Spirit would indeed overthrow the curse and renew the creation,
but the preeminent goal of that work was the recovery of man. For what
good would it do for the Lord to renew the material creation if the imageson appointed to administer His lordship remained estranged from Him?
Indeed, given God’s determination regarding the nature and function of
sacred space, creational renewal presupposed and necessitated that His
Spirit impart life to Adam’s dead race. A new creation meant a new
humanity (Joel 2:28-29; also Isaiah 32:15-20, 44:1-5, 60:1-3, 66:19-23).
3)
In the developing salvation history, the Spirit’s role had been relational as
well as creational. That is, the Holy Spirit constituted God’s power and
presence in His creation, specifically in relation to man. Notably, these
twin realities of divine presence and power converged in the concept of
the Lord’s dwelling place: Whether man, the bearer of the divine image,
Eden, God’s sanctuary-garden, the tabernacle, or the Jerusalem temple,
each expression of God’s dwelling was the fruit of the Spirit’s power. The
Spirit secured and preserved the divine residence in the material creation,
but specifically that God should dwell with His image-son. The creational
work of the Spirit had a relational goal.
This is evident early in the biblical storyline and it becomes the
centerpiece of the prophetic promise regarding sacred space. God was
going to send His Spirit to renew His creation, the heart of which would
be man’s renewal. But man is more than another creature – he is the
Creator’s son, and thus the prophets insisted that his regeneration was to
serve his reconciliation and recovery to his divine Father. By virtue of the
Spirit’s renewing work, God would once again dwell in the midst of His
people in shalomic intimacy. Once again the Spirit would wield His power
to build a house for the Lord (Zechariah 4), and once again the Spirit
would be God’s presence in that dwelling place. But unlike previous
expressions of sacred space, in the coming renewal the Spirit wouldn’t be
present in a limited way; rather He would indwell all of Yahweh’s people
(cf. Ezekiel 36:24-27 with 37:1-28; also Isaiah 44:1-5; Joel 2:28-29).
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4)
It is in this regard that the prophetic theme of Messiah comes to the
forefront. In the most intricate and marvelous fashion, the Old Testament
scriptures weave together in Him all of the above concepts and motifs.
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If Adam was the first of God’s dwellings by virtue of bearing in
himself the divine image and likeness, the conquering Seed
pledged to Eve would be preeminently so. He would not only come
into the world in connection with the Spirit’s presence (Isaiah
48:16), the Spirit would indwell Him in order to empower Him for
His messianic work (Isaiah 11:1-5, 42:1-7, 59:15-21, 61:1-7).
-
So also the nation of Israel later became the Lord’s “dwelling in
the Spirit” (ref. again Exodus 29:45-46; Numbers 5:1-3, 35:34;
also Haggai 2:4-5 and Isaiah 63:11), and that reality was to be
reproduced in the One who is the true Israel (Isaiah 49:1-6).
-
Abraham’s singular Seed would fulfill Israel’s calling, but He
would do so as the Branch of David. In this role, and in fulfillment
of the Davidic Covenant, the Branch was to build an everlasting
house for Yahweh (cf. again 2 Samuel 7:1ff and Zechariah 6:9-15).
The implication that arises from the prophetic convergence of
these themes is profound: God was going to bring forth His
Servant as a new Israel in order to recover and regather to
Himself Adam’s fallen race. But, through this ingathering, the
Isaianic Servant – who is equally the Davidic Branch – would also
construct Yahweh’s everlasting sanctuary in the context of His own
enthronement as the Melchizedekian king-priest.
Beyond that, Zechariah declared that Branch would build the
Lord’s true and final dwelling in conjunction with the contribution
of men: “Those who are far off will come and build [with respect
to] the temple of the Lord” (6:15).
Every previous incarnation of God’s dwelling had its source in the
presence and power of the Spirit, and His final sanctuary was to be no
exception. First of all, the Davidic Builder was to be a “man of the Spirit,”
empowered by the Spirit to accomplish His work. Isaiah is especially
emphatic in this regard. But the Old Testament also reveals that Yahweh’s
house would at that time uniquely reflect the Spirit’s presence and power.
For the very men in connection with whom the final temple was to be
erected were themselves to be indwelled by the Spirit. In its final
expression, sacred space – the realm in which God is present in relation to
His creation – would assume the most profound intimacy. Building upon
the quintessential Man of the Spirit, the renewed race of Spirit-filled men
were to be built together to be the “dwelling of God in the Spirit.” Moses’
longing for Yahweh’s people would at last be satisfied (Numbers 11:29).
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2.
The Spirit and Sacred Space in Fulfillment
With regard to both Old Testament promise and New Testament fulfillment, the Bible
expresses the ultimacy and permanence of the messianic recovery of sacred space in
terms of a new creation. And being a work of creational renewal, this recovery is
associated in a unique way with the Holy Spirit. The reason is that the Spirit exercises the
power of God in all creative activity – the cosmic and spiritual re-creation as much as the
original material creation.
But more important than the fact of the Spirit’s agency in creation is the recognition that
His creational work has its goal in the establishment of God’s dwelling place within His
creation: The goal of the Spirit’s work is to transform the creation into sacred space, a
truth attested first in the creation of Eden and man, the divine image-bearer, and later in
the nation of Israel and its tabernacle and temples.
This principle is foundational to the Old Testament’s promise of the recovery of sacred
space in the new creation. In that day, Yahweh would send His Spirit in order to renew
the creation and restore it to Himself as His everlasting sanctuary. And, consistent with
the pattern established in the first creation, this re-creation resulting in the full realization
of sacred space has its focal point in the recovery of man and his reconciliation and
regathering to God. Though their proclamations left some issues unresolved, the prophets
were unequivocal that sacred space would reach its intended fulfillment when all the
nations of the earth were gathered together to Yahweh at His eschatological sanctuary
(ref. again Isaiah 2:1-4; Micah 4:1-8; Zechariah 6:9-15, 8:1-23; etc.).
These themes importantly find their point of convergence in the Old Testament’s
developing revelation of Messiah. Cleansing, renewal and global ingathering were to
result from His coming and the accomplishment of His messianic work (cf. esp. Isaiah
11:1-12, 42:1-7, 43:1-9, 48:16-55:5). Isaiah revealed that Yahweh was going to send His
Spirit in conjunction with the coming of His Servant (48:16), but, more specifically, that
He would do so by the Spirit’s indwelling presence with the Servant.
a.
The Man of the Spirit
The coming Servant of Yahweh was to be preeminently the “Man of the Spirit.”
Like the First Adam, the Last Adam and Servant/Branch would be conceived by
the divine power of the Spirit (Isaiah 7:10-14 with 9:6-7), but He would also be
indwelled by the Spirit and, in that way, empowered to accomplish His messianic
mission. This is the prophetic picture of Messiah, and this is the way the gospel
writers present Jesus of Nazareth. All four of them show Him to be uniquely a
man of the Spirit, emphasizing the Spirit’s presence and power in relation to the
three phases of Jesus’ life and work.
1)
The first phase of Jesus’ life in relation to the Spirit was centered in His
incarnation. Yahweh had promised a virginal conception such that the
resulting child would embody the reality of Immanuel – “God with us.”
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This child that uniquely represented Yahweh’s presence was to be sent by
Him as His son (“a son shall be given to us”), and yet this son of God was
also to be the promised son of David through whom David’s house,
throne, and kingdom would be established forever (Isaiah 9:7).
So it was that, in the fullness of the times, the angel Gabriel appeared to
Mary and announced to her that, according to Yahweh’s word to Isaiah,
the Holy Spirit would come upon her and conceive a son within her
womb. Mary, the descendent of David, was to bear the promised covenant
seed whose name is Immanuel (Matthew 1:18-23; Luke 1:26-35).
2)
The prophets had only indirectly connected the Spirit with the coming of
Immanuel (the Immanuel child was also the messianic Servant/Branch),
but Isaiah, in particular, explicitly associated the Servant’s ministry with
the Spirit’s power and presence (11:1-5, 42:1-7, 59:15-21, 61:1-7). Thus
the gospel writers moved immediately from the Spirit’s involvement in
Jesus’ conception to His anointing by which the Lord was prepared and
empowered for His ministry as the Last Adam and Servant of Yahweh.
Little is recorded of Jesus’ childhood; Luke alone addresses it, and then
only by way of mentioning one incident in order to exemplify his thematic
statement that Jesus matured in wisdom in accordance with the power of
God’s grace (ref. 2:39-52). All of the gospel accounts, however, record
Jesus’ baptism, and the reason is that this event was hugely significant in
establishing His identity and the purpose for His coming.
-
For all their differences in content and emphases, each of the
gospel writers had as his primary goal demonstrating that Jesus
was the promised Messiah, and this meant showing, among other
things, that He had come as a new Adam and new Israel.
-
No other aspect or incident in Jesus’ life more clearly highlighted
these identity markers than His baptism.
John didn’t understand the significance of Jesus being baptized, and so
resisted baptizing Him. Knowing that his baptism symbolized repentance
toward God, John was startled that Jesus would seek to undergo it. But
Christ understood that, by submitting to this ritual, He was affirming His
full alignment with His people (Matthew 3:13-15). More than that, He was
suggesting His identity as the new Israel promised by Yahweh to Isaiah.
And what was only suggested by Jesus’ baptism became explicit when He
immediately departed the Jordan to endure forty days of testing in the
wilderness (Luke 4:1-2). The first Israel had undergone its own wilderness
testing and had failed to fulfill its calling as the son of God; the new Israel
would succeed, and He would do so by the power of the Spirit.
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From the time Israel departed Egypt the Spirit had resided in their midst
(Haggai 2:4-5; Isaiah 63:11), and His presence affirmed Yahweh’s
previous declaration that Israel was His elect son (Exodus 4:22). So it was
with the new Israel: He, too, was openly attested to be the Son of God by
the presence of the Spirit upon Him, and He, too, had gone into His time
of testing in the wilderness armed with the Spirit’s presence and power.
“The temptations of Jesus recapitulate, in his individual life as the Son of
God, the temptations of the nation of Israel in their corporate life as the
son of God… The temptation stories thus vindicate the declaration of the
‘voice from heaven’ heard directly after the baptism of Jesus, which
immediately precedes the temptation narratives: ‘This is my beloved Son,
in whom I am well pleased.’ By so doing Jesus gains the victory over
Satan and makes it possible for his people to inherit the promises of God.”
(New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology, Vol. 3)
Jesus’ baptism and subsequent testing identified Him as the new Israel, but
they also showed Him to be a new Adam. Adam had been created by the
power of God’s Spirit, and, though the text doesn’t speak of Adam as
being indwelled by the Spirit, it does point to the Spirit breathing the
divine life into the image-son. Being thus empowered by the life of God as
image-bearer, the “son of God” was subsequently brought into a time of
testing, the outcome of which would affect the fate of the entire human
race. Such was the case also with the eschatological (last) Adam. Each
man was subjected to his own unique temptation, but both were ultimately
tested at the point of authentic humanness: Each man’s righteousness –
and therefore the obligation of his obedience – consisted in his finding his
true identity, purpose and blessedness in intimate, submissive and
delightful communion with his Creator-Father.
Both Adam and Christ were called upon to fulfill their identity as man, but
it is crucial to note that this humanness is preeminently spiritual. Both
“Adams” were charged with meeting the obligation of their nature
(namely, dominion in God’s name in the context of perfect communion
with Him) in the power of the Spirit. What was only implied with the first
man became explicit with the second: True man is man of the Spirit.
“The fact that Jesus was the Man of the Spirit is not merely a theological
categorization; it was a flesh-and-blood reality. What was produced in
him was fully realized human holiness. He was the incarnation of the
blessed life of the covenant and of the kingdom-beatitudes which are its
fruit (Mt. 5:1ff; cf. Ps. 1).” (Sinclair Ferguson, The Holy Spirit)
Isaiah revealed that the Servant would appear as a man indwelled by
Yahweh’s Spirit, and he indicated that the Spirit’s indwelling presence
would equip and empower Him to accomplish His messianic mission.
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That work – grounded in His vicarious self-offering – was to secure and
inaugurate a comprehensive renewal having its focal point in the recovery
of man back to God.
So Luke recorded that Jesus, anointed with the Holy Spirit at His baptism
and returning from His Spirit-enabled triumph over Satan in the
wilderness, embarked upon His ministry as the tested Son of God, Last
Adam, and True Israel in the power of the indwelling Spirit (3:21-4:21; cf.
Isaiah 61:1-2 and 42:1-7). From that point forward, His work as Yahweh’s
messianic Servant would be accomplished in direct association with the
presence and power of the Spirit (ref. Matthew 12:1-32; Luke 5:17; John
6:53-63; Acts 10:34-38; also Matthew 8:14-17 with Isaiah 53:1ff).
Jesus’ words and work in the power of the Spirit testified to His
generation that the promised kingdom had come. The Old Testament
scriptures had spoken of that kingdom in terms of the presence of
unparalleled divine power – power that would bring about the conquest of
the serpent, the vanquishing of the curse and the ushering in of a new age
defined by cosmic renewal and the recovery of all things to God. The
consistent message across the prophetic witness was that the coming of
the messianic Servant heralded the Day of the Lord in which His enemies
would be defeated, His people liberated, cleansed, forgiven and restored,
and the unending age of the Spirit inaugurated.
It was upon this foundation of divine promise that Luke recorded the
return of the seventy heralds of the kingdom, showing how their
preparatory proclamation of the “in-breaking” of the kingdom – attested
by demonstrations of the Spirit’s power (10:1-9) – signaled the impending
overthrow of the god of this age and the establishment of the supreme and
everlasting dominion of the Son of David (10:17-22). The victory of the
Servant meant the “binding of the strong man”: No longer would he be
able to keep the nations in darkness; the gospel of the glory of God in the
face of Christ would soon be dawning upon the whole world of men (cf.
Isaiah 9:1-7 with Luke 1:76-79, 11:15-22; John 12:27-32, 14:30-31; also
Acts 1:4-8 with 14:11-16, 17:29-31; 2 Corinthians 4:1-6).
“For Luke, the whole of Jesus’ ministry following his baptism is exercised
in the power of the messianic Spirit. He has been anointed to engage in a
power-conflict. But in him the final year of Jubilee has now come; there is
freedom (Lk. 4:18-29; cf. Lv. 25:8-55). The result is that his preaching has
authority (Lk. 4:32), his word has exorcising and liberating power (Lk.
4:33-37), and his touch heals ‘all’ (Lk. 4:40). Nothing is outside of his
dominion. The wonders he performs are accomplished in the energy and
by the presence of the Holy Spirit (cf. Mt. 12:28). That is why they serve as
signs of the coming messianic age in which the Spirit’s power will be fully
manifested and all nature will be healed.” (Ferguson, The Holy Spirit)
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3)
From the point of His conception, Jesus was preeminently the Man of the
Spirit, but the Spirit’s crucial role in His life and ministry reached its apex
in His work of redemption. This, too, represents a point of fulfillment of
the Old Testament scriptures, for Isaiah, in particular, associated
Yahweh’s Spirit most closely with His messianic Servant, and the
Servant’s primary role was that of redemptive Savior (ref. 52:13-53:12; cf.
also Isaiah 42:1-13, 48:16-49:13, 59:1-21).
In the context of its historical fulfillment in Jesus of Nazareth, this
messianic redemption was accomplished in three distinct phases: Jesus’
atoning death, resurrection and ascension/enthronement. Consistent with
prophetic promise, each phase is shown in the New Testament to implicate
the presence and power of the Holy Spirit.
With respect to Jesus’ self-offering at Calvary, none of the gospel
accounts say anything directly about the role of the Spirit. Across the span
of the New Testament, only the author of Hebrews addresses it explicitly
by his declaration that Jesus offered Himself up to God “by the eternal
Spirit” (9:13-14). It is important to note that some scholars have regarded
the phrase “eternal Spirit” as referring to Jesus’ spirit rather than the Holy
Spirit. However, a broader consideration of the New Testament text –
especially in the light of Old Testament promise – argues for the
conclusion that the Hebrews writer was speaking of the Holy Spirit.
-
Jesus was the Man of the Spirit in that, as a human being, He
possessed the Spirit in a way unique in the prior history of
mankind. The Spirit came upon Him as a limitless and permanent
endowment at His baptism, and His indwelling presence
empowered Christ for His ministry as Yahweh’s Servant (cf. again
Luke 3:21-4:21 with Isaiah 11:1ff, 42:1ff). But Isaiah had revealed
that the focal point of the Servant’s work in the Spirit was His
vicarious, atoning self-sacrifice (52:13-53:12). The implication is
obvious: If Jesus’ work at Calvary was indeed a point of fulfillment
of the Scriptures, His self-offering was accomplished in the power
of the indwelling Spirit just as Isaiah predicted.
-
This is directly affirmed by Jesus’ citing of Isaiah 61:1-2 to
introduce His forthcoming messianic work. For in that passage
Isaiah described the Servant’s role as God’s redeemer, evident in
his use of the language of liberation and restoration. And while the
Spirit’s anointing in this passage serves to empower the Servant to
proclaim the message of liberation (which is the primary sense in
which Jesus and Luke were employing it), the proclamation of
liberation implies the fact of liberation. Jesus could proclaim, by
the Spirit, captivity’s liberation before it occurred because the
Spirit’s power insured its future accomplishment.
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-
The same conclusion follows from the fact that, having come upon
Jesus at His baptism, the gospel writers give no suggestion that the
Spirit departed from Him either prior to or at the time of His death.
Luke, in particular, was emphatic that Jesus’ ministry in every
respect was accomplished in the power of the Spirit, and His work
at Calvary was the focal concern and culmination of all that
preceded it. Though Luke’s passion narrative is silent regarding the
Holy Spirit, it is inconceivable that he intended that silence to
indicate the Spirit’s lack of participation in Christ’s self-offering.
As is the case with His cross-work, the Scripture’s testimony to the role of
the Spirit in Jesus’ resurrection is limited and indirect. Most often the
New Testament attributes Christ’s resurrection to the Father (“God”) (cf.
Acts 2:32, 17:30-31; Romans 8:11; 1 Corinthians 15:15; etc.), but before
His death Jesus spoke directly of His own role in that work (ref. John
2:19-21, 10:17-18). On the other hand, the Scripture is relatively vague
regarding the Spirit’s participation in the resurrection.
For his part, Paul spoke of Jesus being designated “the Son of God with
power” by His resurrection “according to the Spirit of holiness.” As with
the Hebrews passage, there is disagreement as to whether he was referring
to the Holy Spirit; many maintain that Paul was speaking of the principle
of holiness in relation to Jesus Himself, while others (probably correctly)
regard the phrase “spirit of holiness” as implicating the Spirit only
indirectly. That is to say, Paul was using the phrase to refer to the new
mode of human existence introduced by Jesus’ resurrection – the mode of
the “spiritual man” which characterizes the new age of the Spirit.
Whatever his precise meaning, Paul was clearly connecting the Holy Spirit
with Jesus’ resurrection. If he wasn’t indicating that the Spirit was the
direct agent of the resurrection, he was much more importantly associating
Jesus’ “resurrection life” – that is, His consummate, glorified humanity as
the Last Adam and “life-giving spirit” – with the presence and power of
the Spirit (cf. also 1 Timothy 3:16 and 1 Peter 3:18).
For Paul, the role of the Spirit in Christ’s resurrection focuses, not on the
fact of the resurrection, but its outcome and significance. The Spirit’s
function as God’s creative agent does suggest that it was His power that
imparted life to Jesus’ dead body, but the resurrection isn’t concerned with
the reanimation of Christ’s dead flesh; its concern is the revitalizing of the
created order in the Last Adam, beginning with Adam’s dead race.
Jesus’ resurrection as the Last Adam inaugurated a new age with a new
humanity enjoying a new mode of existence in relation to God: His
resurrection certified that the Spirit’s work of transforming the
creation into sacred space had begun; the age of the Spirit had arrived.
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Moreover, with Jesus’ resurrection “in accordance with the spirit of
holiness,” Yahweh’s Spirit had been transformed into the Spirit of Christ.
-
This is true first in the sense that, in His resurrected, glorified
humanity, Jesus possesses the Spirit in superlative fullness.
“This taking possession of the Holy Spirit by Christ is so absolute
an appropriation that the apostle Paul can say of it in 2
Corinthians 3:17 that the Lord (that is, Christ as the exalted Lord)
is the Spirit. Naturally Paul does not by that statement mean to
obliterate the distinction between the two… But the Holy Spirit has
become entirely the property of Christ, and was, so to speak,
absorbed into Christ or assimilated by Him. By the resurrection
and ascension Christ has become the quickening Spirit (1 Cor.
15:45). He is now in possession of the seven Spirits (that is, the
Spirit in His fullness), even as He is in possession of the seven
stars (Rev. 3:1). (Herman Bavinck, Our Reasonable Faith)
-
But for this very reason the Spirit has also become the presence of
Christ in the world and especially in His people. So thoroughly
does Jesus possess God’s Spirit that the indwelling of the Spirit
is the indwelling presence of Jesus Himself (cf. John 14:16-20
and 16:13-14 with Romans 8:9-10).
At the same time, this transformation must be understood as economic and
not ontological. That is, the Spirit of God has become the Spirit of Christ,
not as an alteration of His essential nature, but in terms of His
eschatological function in the new age inaugurated by Jesus’ resurrection.
“To have the Spirit is to have Christ; to have Christ is to have the Spirit.
Not to have the Spirit of Christ is to lack Christ. To have the Spirit of
Christ is to be indwelt by Christ. There is clear ontological distinction, but
economic or functional equivalence. In this sense, through the
resurrection and ascension, Christ ‘became life-giving Spirit’.” (Sinclair
Ferguson, The Holy Spirit)
Though occurring as a separate event, Christ’s ascension was the
consummation of His resurrection. The resurrection wasn’t an end in
itself, but had its goal and found its ultimate meaning in Jesus’ ascension
and enthronement in the Father’s presence. This is nowhere more evident
than in Peter’s proclamation at Pentecost (Acts 2:14-36). Confronted with
misperception and false accusation, he explained what was transpiring in
terms of Christ’s exaltation and enthronement. What the crowd was
witnessing was the fulfillment of God’s prophetic promise to send His
Spirit (vv. 14-17), and the Spirit had come by virtue of Jesus’
enthronement, which itself was the apex of His resurrection from the dead.
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Peter showed this by connecting the Pentecost phenomenon with David
and God’s covenant with him. God had sworn to David to set one of his
descendents on his throne, and David expressed his confident hope in this
promise when he spoke of God not abandoning him to the grave and its
decay. The proof that David wasn’t speaking of himself is the fact that he
eventually died, was buried and underwent decay (vv. 25-29).
Holding fast to Yahweh’s covenant pledge, David’s declaration of triumph
over the grave looked to the covenant son who would sit upon his throne
and rule over his kingdom forever. An everlasting reign implied that this
royal seed would not fall victim to death and decay, and Peter understood
David’s prophetic hope to have been realized in Jesus’ resurrection. But
David’s hope was ultimately directed toward the fulfillment of the
covenant promise, not victory over death, and that occurred with Jesus’
enthronement. Thus Peter spoke of the resurrection as a pointer to Jesus’
enthronement by which the Davidic Covenant was fulfilled (vv. 30-35).
What Peter’s explanation shows – especially when considered in the light
of the broader biblical revelation – is that the Spirit’s role in Jesus’
ascension did not concern His bodily translation into heaven as such, but
rather the outcome of the ascension, namely Jesus’ coronation as the Son
of David and its significance in the “fullness of the times.”
Jesus’ enthronement at God’s right hand must be understood primarily in
terms of his identity as the promised Davidic seed. Christ’s coronation
represented the fulfillment of the Davidic Covenant, and the importance of
this to the work of the Spirit is that Yahweh had appointed this Son of
David to build His house as His everlasting dwelling place and, in that
way, establish His kingdom forever (1 Chronicles 17:11-14).
Jesus was enthroned as the Davidic Branch in order to build Yahweh’s
sanctuary and preside forever over His habitation-kingdom. But He is
doing so as Yahweh’s anointed priest-king (cf. Psalm 2 and 110 with
Zechariah 6:9-15 and Hebrews 5:1-6), and fundamental to His priestly
mediation is His receipt of the Spirit from His Father in order to bestow
Him upon those for whom He intercedes (cf. Luke 3:16; Acts 1:1-9).
The prophets revealed that Branch’s royal mandate was to build the Lord’s
everlasting dwelling, and that He would do so as an enthroned priest. They
also declared that Branch’s coming would be accompanied by the
outpouring of Yahweh’s Spirit. But only in fulfillment did the prophetic
pieces come together; only then did God show that David’s Son, in the
exercise of His sovereign authority, would build His sanctuary out of
human stones, making them His habitation by the power and indwelling
presence of the Spirit. And this – constituting the beginning of Branch’s
building – will culminate with sacred space embracing the whole creation.
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b.
The Age of the Spirit
Jesus’ possession of the indwelling Spirit and the Spirit’s empowerment for
accomplishing His messianic task don’t speak of His deity but His true humanity.
It was as the Last Adam that Jesus was the Man of the Spirit, and this truth is
foundationally and crucially important for understanding the outcome for the
human race of His redemptive work. Jesus’ identity as a new and final Adam
indicates that His status as Man of the Spirit has implications beyond Himself: He
is the prototype and fountainhead of a new and consummate spiritual humanity
that, like Him, is characterized by the indwelling presence, power, and leading of
the Holy Spirit. In that new reality – the age of the Spirit – the promise of sacred
space was to finally be realized.
The connection between the human race and Jesus as Man of the Spirit comes to
the forefront in the Pentecost event. There the fulfillment secured by Christ’s
atonement – and evidenced first in His own resurrected, glorified humanity as
“firstfruits” of the new creation – was realized in the beginnings of a new Adamic
race bearing the authentic human likeness of its progenitor.
In every way, Pentecost represented fulfillment of divine promise.
-
Jesus had spoken of it as the immediate goal of His redemptive work (cf.
John 14:16-20, 16:7-16, 20:19-22 with Acts 1:1-8), as had John before
Him (Matthew 3:11; Luke 3:16).
-
But being the Isaianic forerunner, John had functioned as the revelatory
and salvation-historical bridge between the times of promise and
fulfillment. He was the last of God’s Old Covenant prophets, and he
heralded the passing of the old order and the in-breaking of the
eschatological kingdom. Thus, like Jesus after him, John’s proclamation
only reaffirmed what the prophets had insisted upon centuries earlier: The
coming Messianic kingdom involved the renewal of the created order and
its restoration to God. That recovery had man as its focal point, and God
would restore His image-son to Himself through the power and presence
of His outpoured Spirit (ref. Isaiah 32:1-20, 59:20-21; Ezekiel 36:2237:28; Joel 2:23-32; Zechariah 4:1-10; cf. also Numbers 11:24-30).
-
For their part, the prophets simply built upon the promise of restoration
that originated with the protoevangelium in Eden and that God clarified
and expanded in the succeeding generations (Genesis 3:15).
What all of this means is that Pentecost constitutes a point of convergence in the
upward movement of salvation history – a singular episode of fulfillment that
looks back to, draws upon, and brings together the great themes and imagery
associated with Yahweh’s enduring promise of deliverance and restoration from
the curse and the kingdom that would emerge from it.
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1)
In Luke’s account of the Pentecost event, the first matter of fulfillment
pertains to the restoration of man. This is highlighted by the tongues
phenomenon (Acts 2:1-11), specifically as it looks back to what transpired
at Babel. In the progress of humanity from Adam and Eve, the concept of
discrete nations with their own lands, cultures, and languages is first
introduced in Genesis 10:1ff. Only then does the text provide the historical
basis for that development: The Genesis writer introduced the fact of the
existence of nations before addressing the historical circumstance that
produced them. He did so as a point of literary emphasis, desiring to
highlight the human and salvation-historical significance of what
transpired at Babel by first describing its radical reordering effect.
Prior to Babel, mankind was unified in the sense that all of Adam’s
progeny spoke the same language and shared essentially the same culture.
The human race was united as the “city of man” and, in the context of this
togetherness, men reasoned that their unified will and power could enable
them to build a tower into the presence of God Himself. In this way, man
could make himself a name and establish his power and unified presence
on the earth (Genesis 11:1-4).
The theological significance of this imagery is that the Babel event
brought the reality of human “liberation” and enlightenment to its pinnacle
expression. The issue wasn’t the construction of a physical edifice as a
testimony to human ingenuity and resource; what was transpiring on the
plain of Shinar was the epitomizing expression of the human delusion of
autonomy and self-sufficiency; Adam’s race, standing collectively as a
unified whole, was expressing its conviction that it is able to resolve the
problem of divine-human estrangement and, as it were, bring the imageson back to God’s garden-sanctuary.
-
The Creator-Lord had driven him out; man – by his own power and
resource – would bring himself back.
-
Whereas God had promised to make a name for man (“Shem” –
ref. 9:26-27); man was determined to make a name for himself.
Thus the tower represents man’s attempt to end his banishment from
Eden by constructing a new sanctuary where he is lord – a product of
human labor and accomplishment through which he could reenter
and subdue the place of the divine.
God’s response was to destroy the human unity that had brought critical
mass to human hubris and its destructive power. Adam’s offspring
believed that human unity is the answer to man’s dilemma (so it is to this
day – witness the United Nations); God understood that human unity
means only the synergistic increase of human evil and destruction.
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The Lord vanquished this unity by scattering the earth’s inhabitants and
confusing their languages (11:8-9). This served first to end the synergy of
human sin and its destructive power, but it also constituted God’s witness
to man of the irreparability of the divine-human estrangement that led to
Adam’s banishment from Eden.
Try as he might, man could not take hold of God’s dwelling and recover
himself from his cursed state. If Adam’s race was going to return to Eden,
it would not be by its own efforts – even the collective, unified efforts of
all humanity. The Creator-Lord had already revealed that that restoration
would come through one man, so that the Babel incident profoundly
reflects upon the human unbelief and rejection that would reach its zenith
in the rejection and murder of the promised Son of Man.
Recognizing the significance of Babel in the movement of salvation
history, it’s easy to see how Pentecost represented, among other things, the
“undoing” of Babel. At Babel, God had scattered the human race,
alienating men from each other even as they were alienated from Him.
That alienation was expressed in geographical and linguistic isolation, and
Pentecost served to reverse that.
-
On that day, men from the nations formed out of the Babel
dispersion (cf. the table of nations listed in Genesis 10 with Acts
2:9-11), were once again together in Jerusalem.
-
More than that, their linguistic isolation was remedied, not in the
sense that they again spoke the same language, but in that they
were united in linguistically conveyed understanding: Each one
heard and understood in his native language the same message
proclaiming God’s mighty, saving deeds in His Son (Acts 2:5-11).
And out of that linguistic unity would come true human unity – not the
geographical unity of being in the same place at the same time, but the
true unity of spiritual oneness wrought by the mutual indwelling and
transforming power of the one Spirit. The mutuality of shared hubris could
not reunite the human race; that work belonged to the renewing power of
God. Adam’s race was to be reunified through their transforming union
with the Last Adam (cf. 1 Corinthians 12:12-20; Ephesians 4:1-6).
2)
This mutual reconciliation of the human race that began at Pentecost
presupposed human reconciliation to God. The punitive and preservative
scattering that occurred at Babel was the outcome of man’s alienation
from God; so it was in Babel’s “undoing”: Men were being reconciled to
one another as a consequence of their reconciliation to God. That two-fold
reconciliation – which had its instrumental cause in their mutual faith in
the gospel – was secured by the outpouring of the Spirit.
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This bestowal, too, constituted fulfillment on several fronts.
-
First of all, in previous times God’s Spirit had dwelled in the midst
of His covenant people, but always with a kind of remoteness and
incompleteness. The Spirit was the divine power and presence in
Israel, and that involved, on occasion, His “coming upon” various
men for the accomplishment of Yahweh’s work. But the presence
and operation of the Spirit (“ruach”) were like the wind (“ruach”)
in its blowing: intangible, unpredictable, remote and unresting.
Moses recognized this at the very beginning of Israel’s covenant
existence, and he longed for a time when the Spirit’s presence
among Yahweh’s people would be comprehensively personal and
permanent (Numbers 11:24-30). That longing had proven to be
prophetic, and was now at last being satisfied.
-
Moreover, the Lord’s presence among His people was epitomized
in His Shekinah in the Holy of Holies. This glory-cloud hovering
over the ark between the wings of the cherubim symbolized
Yahweh’s enthroned presence in Israel, even as the ark symbolized
the footstool of His throne (1 Chronicles 28:2; cf. also Numbers
7:89; 1 Samuel 4:4; 2 Samuel 6:2; Psalm 80:1, 99:1, 132:7; etc.).
Though the biblical text doesn’t directly associate the Shekinah
with the Spirit, their mutual representation of Yahweh’s personal
presence links them together. Importantly, the closest biblical
association between the Shekinah and the Spirit is Christological,
and is exemplified in a particular aspect of Ezekiel’s prophecy.
After Yahweh’s glory-presence departed from the temple (10:1-4,
18, 11:22-23), Ezekiel saw it being restored in connection with the
idealized, visionary temple detailed at the close of the book. But
the vision of Yahweh’s return to His sanctuary was attended by the
presence of a man who explained to Ezekiel that the returning
Shekinah represented his enthronement to dwell among His people
forever (43:1-8).
-
This imagery corresponds to Daniel’s vision of the exaltation and
enthronement of “one like a son of man,” the outcome of which is
the triumph and everlasting establishment of Yahweh’s kingdom –
the kingdom of the saints of the Most High (Daniel 7:9-27).
The prophetic implication is clear: Yahweh’s Shekinah –
representing His enthroned presence in the midst of His people
– was to find its consummate fulfillment in the enthronement
of a man; a man who is the covenant son of David and the
promised Immanuel (Isaiah 9:1ff; Luke 1:30-33).
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This Christological fulfillment provides the biblical connection between
Yahweh’s presence in His Shekinah and in His Spirit: As the enthroned
Christ fulfills the Shekinah symbolism, so it is from His throne that He
pours forth Yahweh’s Spirit – the Spirit who, now being the Spirit of Jesus
– constitutes Jesus’ (and Yahweh’s) presence among His people (cf. Acts
1:4-8, 2:1-4, 22-36). Most importantly, the Spirit’s dwelling is no longer
among the covenant household; the Spirit of Yahweh who was with them
(Isaiah 63:11) is now the Spirit of Christ within them (John 14:16-18;
Romans 8:9-10). The One who baptizes men with the Spirit (Luke 3:16)
indwells them by His Spirit. In Him, they become individually and
collectively the living temple of the living God.
3)
Another important aspect of fulfillment associated with Pentecost was
declared explicitly by Peter, and that is fulfillment in relation to Joel’s
prophecy (Acts 2:14-21). The particular prophetic content Peter cited is a
key component of Joel’s overall prophecy which focuses on the Day of the
Lord themes of judgment and recovery/restoration.
Joel’s prophecy begins with a dreadful description of a locust infestation
(1:1-12) and drought (1:13-20) in the land of Judah. Whether or not the
prophet was speaking of one or more actual episodes in Judah’s history,
what is important is that he intended this description to serve as a
compelling metaphor for the coming day of Yahweh’s apocalyptic
judgment (quite possibly conceived as having a near-term expression in
the impending Assyrian and/or Babylonian invasions) (2:1-11).
Joel used powerful sensory images to make his point, drawing upon the
terrifying sights and sounds that accompany the destruction wrought by a
locust plague and drought to portray the desolation coming upon
Yahweh’s unfaithful and disobedient covenant people. And in view of
what awaited them, Joel called upon every Israelite to turn aside from
what from occupying his attention and fervently seek the Lord’s mercy
with a heart of true repentance (2:12-17). Along with the other prophets,
Joel was clear that the day of Yahweh’s fierce indignation would not be
avoided through pleading and petition, and yet retribution wasn’t to be the
last word; desolation would yield to renewal and everlasting restoration.
-
In terms of Joel’s imagery of natural desolation brought about
through locusts and drought, renewal meant that Yahweh would
restore the early and late rains, causing the land to again flourish
and bring forth its produce in abundance (2:21-26).
-
But this language symbolized a greater restoration, namely
Yahweh’s full and everlasting recovery of His people to Himself.
Never again would they be punished or put to shame (2:26-27);
The One who had fought against them would now fight for them.
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Having purged His covenant sons in the fire of righteous judgment,
the Lord would fulfill His larger, ultimate design of recovery and
blessing (2:18-27). In that day Yahweh would set Himself in the
midst of His people forever (3:16-21).
The Day of the Lord, with its judgment and retribution leading to
creational and covenantal renewal, is the backdrop for Joel’s promise of
the outpouring of the Spirit, and it is this promise that Peter saw being
fulfilled in the events of Pentecost (Acts 2:14-16). Several things about the
prophecy itself and Peter’s interpretation of it are important to note:
a)
First, Joel’s prophecy follows the general pattern of Israel’s
prophets by speaking of the coming kingdom in terms of the
globalizing of God’s people. Isaiah, in particular, addressed this at
length (cf. 2:1-3, 11:10-12, 20:18-25, 42:1-9, 49:1-13, 52:13-15,
54:1-3, 59:15-60:3, 66:10-22). A point of distinction in Joel’s
prophecy is that he directly connected this globalizing effect with
the work of the Spirit. The Babel dispersion certified man’s
alienation from God, but Joel’s promise that He would pour out
His Spirit on all flesh suggested a full recovery of the human race.
And what Joel suggested Peter made explicit: Initiating the
fulfillment of Joel’s prophecy, Pentecost also marked the
emergence of a new, global people for God. The humanizing of
Yahweh’s sanctuary was also its globalization. The transformation
of the created order into sacred space was underway (cf. Acts 2:512 with Peter’s explanation in v. 16 and exhortation in vv. 38-40).
This was a radical and critically important development in the
progress of revelation and salvation history. In the first place,
within the broader context of Old Testament prophecy (and
probably also this passage from Joel) the Spirit’s outpouring was
associated more with the whole house of Israel than the world at
large (cf. Isaiah 32:9-15, 59:20-21; Ezekiel 36-37). Even if Joel’s
prophecy is interpreted in this limited sense, it still represents a
monumental shift in the way God had been present and operative
within the covenant community of Israel. For during the period of
the Israelite theocracy, the Spirit’s indwelling presence was
associated predominantly with Israel’s prophets, priests, and kings.
But Joel was proclaiming a coming day in which Yahweh would
pour out His Spirit on all His people – the young and old, male
and female, slaves and free. Joel had made Moses’ personal
longing for the sons of Israel a matter of direct prophetic promise.
For his part, and speaking under the leading of the Holy Spirit (ref.
2:4), Peter indicated that the promise of the outpoured Spirit
extended beyond the house of Israel to include all mankind.
214
This is evident, not so much from his quotation of Joel or from
who received the Spirit at that time (most of whom were Jews), but
from Peter’s later commentary: The promise of the outpoured
Spirit was for all whom the Lord would call to Himself (2:37-39).
b)
Peter also importantly interpreted the fulfillment of Joel’s
prophecy at Pentecost as inaugurating the last days (2:17a). Many
Christians struggle with Peter’s statement because they have been
conditioned to regard the phrase “last days” in dispensational terms
as indicating the period leading up to the seven-year “tribulation”
that is believed by many dispensationalists to culminate with
Christ’s return to establish His so-called millennial kingdom. The
difficulty is compounded by his reference to the Day of the Lord,
since this phrase, too, has a very specific “end times” meaning to
most Christians. If Peter’s assertion that Pentecost occurred in the
“last days” is troubling to Christians, his associating Pentecost with
the Day of the Lord is far more so.
One obvious difficulty is the imagery attached to this theme. The
prophets spoke of the Day of Yahweh as a time of cataclysm and
cosmic upheaval, and Joel was no exception. That “day” was to be
heralded by “wonders in the sky above and signs on the earth
beneath, blood, and fire, and vapor of smoke,” with the sun being
“turned into darkness” and “the moon into blood” (cf. also Isaiah
13:6-10; Joel 3:14-16; Amos 5:18-20; Zephaniah 1:14-15).
Everywhere the Old Testament associates the Day of Yahweh with
God’s presence in the world to judge and punish those who oppose
Him, His people, and His purpose, and the language of cataclysm
and finality attached to it explains the tendency to regard it as
God’s day of comprehensive judgment at the end of the age.
Thus some commentators exempt vv. 19-20 (ref. Joel 2:30-31)
from Peter’s treatment of Joel’s prophecy. In other words, the Day
of the Lord statements don’t pertain to the Pentecost event as
fulfillment, but since they are sandwiched in Joel’s prophecy
between two passages that do (vv. 17-18 and 21), Peter recited the
whole context. While this explanation has some degree of
plausibility, there is a better way to resolve the difficulty.
That resolution begins with the recognition that the “salvation”
Joel referred to is, in context, deliverance from the destruction
associated with the coming Day of the Lord. For Peter to find
fulfillment with respect to Joel 2:32a at Pentecost while excluding
the Day of the Lord content from that same fulfillment would be
for him to fracture and abuse the prophecy.
215
A second consideration is the fact that a central feature of the Day
of Yahweh motif is God’s judgment of Israel. This is clearly
evident in the fact that the judgments of the captivities are treated
as manifestations of the Day of the Lord (ref. Ezekiel 13:1-11; Joel
1:1-2:17; Amos 5:16-27; Zephaniah 1:1-16). This motif does
extend the scope of divine judgment beyond Israel to the Gentile
nations, but this broader judgment typically follows upon Israel’s
judgment. The general pattern is one of judgment and restoration,
and it operates in this way: The Day of the Lord speaks first to
Yahweh’s punishment of His unbelieving and disobedient covenant
people, which He accomplishes by the hand of other nations. But
when that scourging is complete, the Lord then turns His hand
against those nations that have come against His people in order
to deliver them and restore them back to Himself.
Throughout the Scripture, the Day of the Lord always focuses on
the twin themes of judgment and restoration: Regardless of its
particular contextual referent, it invariably speaks to a theophanic
episode in which Yahweh judges and overcomes His enemies
(those who have brought His people into subjection). By that
victory He secures the liberation of His own toward the goal of
regathering them to Himself. This dynamic is clearly seen in Joel’s
prophecy: The Day of the Lord would surely come (2:1-11), but it
would give way to deliverance (2:18-20) and restoration (2:21-27).
Not all would be swept away in Yahweh’s fierce anger; all who
called upon Him in the day of judgment would find deliverance
(2:30-32). Moreover, that deliverance would come in connection
with the outpoured, indwelling Spirit.
When these considerations are brought to bear upon Peter’s use of
Joel, his meaning becomes much more transparent. Consistent with
the contextual flow of Joel’s prophecy, Peter recognized in the
outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost the fulfillment of the promise
of deliverance. Joel saw that deliverance as escape from the
destruction associated with the day of Yahweh’s judgment, and so
it was with Peter: At Calvary, the Lord judged His true enemies
and secured the release of His people from their longstanding
captivity. The reality of release was now being attested by the
Spirit’s outpouring at the hand of the triumphal, enthroned King,
and all who perceived the day of Jubilee and called upon the King
in repentant faith were promised a share in His deliverance.
But Peter’s reference to the Day of the Lord likely also pointed to
God’s judgment of Israel. Desolation due to unbelief was again
coming upon them (Luke 13:34-35, 19:41-44, 23:27-31), but this
time in testimony that the former order of things had passed away.
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G. K. Beale’s observations are helpful:
“Israel’s rejection of Jesus sealed their fate as a nation (as
elaborated already in Matt. 23:29-38). What underscores the
picture in Joel 2:30-31 as figurative for Israel’s final demise is the
observation that the very same language was used earlier in Joel
2:10b to signify clearly the imminent destruction of Israel in the
Old Testament epoch itself (‘the sun and the moon grow dark’; cf.
the full cosmic conflagration imagery in Joel 2:1-5, 10a, c).
Rather than saying that the Joel language is used symbolically in
Acts 2, it may be better to say that it indicates the real beginning
destruction of the old world, represented by Israel and her
temple, which begins in the spiritual realm. That is, unbelieving
Israel and the temple were judged to be spiritually condemned at
the time of Jesus (e.g., Matt. 23:29-39) and Pentecost, and a
generation later the destruction of her temple occurred as an
expression of the earlier spiritual judgment. The consummated
fulfillment of Joel 2 will express itself in the destruction of the
entire physical cosmos, which the temple symbolized.”
(The Temple and the Church’s Mission, emphasis added)
c)
Peter’s inclusion of Joel 2:30-31 was likely intended to indicate the
passing of the former order (including the city and temple as its
epitomizing symbols; note esp. 2:40) even as he associated the
outpouring of the Spirit with the inauguration of the “last days.”
But taken together, these ideas imply that this consummative
period initiated at Pentecost constitutes a new beginning. This, too,
is in keeping with the prophets, for they spoke of the last days as
heralding the introduction of a new age (cf. Isaiah 2:1-4; Micah
4:1-8), just as the Day of the Lord would bring comprehensive
renewal and restoration (Joel 3:9-18; Zephaniah 3:1-20).
The Day of the Lord marks the passing of the former order, and so
also the inauguration of the new age of eschatological renewal and
the recovery of all things to God. In keeping with the promises of
the prophets, this age of renewal is the age of the Spirit, being
attested by the outpouring and indwelling of the Spirit to form a
new people for God. The promise of the restoration of Israel is the
promise of Israel’s fullness realized by the enthroned Son of David
pouring out His Spirit upon all mankind. The Man of the Spirit,
who is the Last Adam, has ushered in a new creation and become
the fountainhead of a new humanity. In Him, as the True Israel,
“Israel has become a third party with Egypt and Assyria, a
blessing in the midst of the earth, whom the Lord of hosts has
blessed, saying, ‘Blessed is Egypt My people, and Assyria the work
of My hands, and Israel My inheritance’” (ref. Isaiah 19:19-25).
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C.
Transformation in Christ – the New Humanity
The ancient and enduring promise of the recovery of sacred space has at last been realized in
Jesus Christ. This is true first because He is the God-man, but also because He is the Man of the
Spirit and the Last Adam.
-
God’s eternal design was that the creation itself should become sacred space – the divine
dwelling place, and this reality finds its focal point in man, the divine image-son. It is in
and through man that God determined to be present in His creation, and the
accomplishment of this end belongs in a unique sense to the Spirit. Whether considered
narrowly in terms of mankind, or comprehensively in terms of the whole created order,
the realization of sacred space is the work of the Holy Spirit.
-
The Spirit is the agent of re-creation and the Scripture reveals that this creational renewal
has begun with man. This is true first of all with respect to the man, Jesus of Nazareth:
He is uniquely the Man of the Spirit. And as a human being indwelled, empowered, and
led by the Spirit without measure or qualification, Jesus manifested in Himself God’s
ultimate intention for His image-bearers. Jesus came, not simply as a new man, but as
true man: As True Man and the Last Adam, Jesus is both the origin and destiny of man.
Pentecost testified that the principle of creational renewal which was first evidenced in Jesus’
resurrected, glorified humanity has now advanced beyond Him to inaugurate a new race of men
tracing their humanity to the Last Adam rather than the first one. As He is Man of the Spirit, so
they are likewise men of the Spirit – indwelled, empowered, and led by the same divine Spirit
(1 Corinthians 15:12-49). But inasmuch as the Holy Spirit has become the Spirit of Christ, the
indwelling Spirit is Christ’s own presence within His spiritual “descendents.” He has come to
and abides with His own in the person of His Spirit (Romans 8:9-11).
This understanding of God’s purpose and work gives meaning to Paul’s insistence that the Spirit
is transforming those whom He indwells into the likeness of Christ (2 Corinthians 3:18). They
are not becoming clones of Jesus of Nazareth, but are, by the effectual power of the Spirit, being
progressively conformed to His consummate humanity. What He is as man, they are becoming.
But there is another crucial aspect to this reality, and that involves the definition and identity of
the covenant people of God.
-
Jesus is not only the Last Adam, He is the true Israel. It is in Him that Israel has at last
become Israel: Yahweh’s faithful son, servant, disciple, and witness.
-
And being the fulfillment of Israel, Jesus is also the true Abrahamic Seed, since
covenant descent from Abraham was the singular basis of Israel’s identity and role.
When all of these considerations are taken together, the obvious implication is that now, in the
fullness of the times, status as a member of God’s covenant household is dependent upon a
person’s connection with Jesus Christ. If He is the promised Seed of Abraham and True Israel, it
follows that He has become the focal point of the definition of God’s covenant people.
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1.
The New Humanity and the Identity of God’s Covenant Household
a.
Israel’s identity as the people of God was grounded in its relation to Abraham.
God made a covenant with Abraham and his descendents, the heart of which was
that He would be their God and they would be His people (Genesis 17:7-8; cf.
17:19; Exodus 6:2-8). At the same time, membership in the covenant household
was not a matter of genealogical descent per se, but possession of the sign of the
covenant, namely circumcision. Obedience to the covenant meant fulfilling the
sign of circumcision, and God instructed Abraham that he was to apply it to his
entire household (Genesis 17:10-13).
Later, the nation of Israel was formally constituted the corporate covenant seed of
Abraham through Yahweh’s great act of redemption. Circumcision continued as
the sign of the covenant, but the covenant community was now further identified
as the company of Yahweh’s redeemed (cf. Exodus 3:1-17, 6:1-8, 20:1-2).
Accordingly, God made Israel’s redeemed status a permanent identity marker by
instituting the annual Passover ordinance. The nation was to associate its “birth”
with Yahweh’s redemption (Exodus 12:1-2) and, as His covenant people, was to
be fastidious in observing the annual festival and communicating its meaning to
successive generations (12:14-28). The intent of this prescription was that every
Israelite would find it impossible to conceive of himself or his nation apart from
the Lord’s redemption; Israel was an elect son born of Yahweh’s redeeming hand.
But like the covenant sign of circumcision, redemption as an identity marker
wasn’t limited to Abraham’s biological descendents. Israel was a redeemed
people and their participation in the Passover ordinance testified to their identity.
This being the case, one would assume that only Israelites had the right to
celebrate the Passover. But God declared to Moses that the Passover was open to
any and all non-Israelites as long as they received the sign of circumcision. There
was to be one definition and prescription for all, Israelite and non-Israelite alike
(Exodus 12:47-48; cf. Numbers 9:9-14).) From the beginning, membership in
Abraham’s covenant household wasn’t limited to his biological offspring; all who
received the sign of the covenant had a place in it. The participation of
circumcised Gentiles in the Passover was simply an extension of this truth. If
circumcision was the criterion for membership in the covenant community, then it
also afforded access to the ordinances by which the community was identified.
In the time of preparation, the “people of God” were determined by connection
with Abraham and the Abrahamic Covenant through the covenant sign of
circumcision. Stated differently, Abrahamic identity through circumcision defined
the particularism and universalism of the covenant household: Only those who
were connected to Abraham through circumcision were covenant sons, but all
such individuals were included in that community. (Later, the Mosaic Covenant
elaborated upon that definition: Whereas the Abrahamic Covenant defined who
the covenant sons of God were, the covenant at Sinai showed those sons what
their sonship entailed and required of them.)
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Even though this definition of the “people of God” existed from the time Yahweh
made His covenant with Abraham, over the centuries the Jews had come to view
the concept in a more ethnic and cultural way. By the time Jesus was born, the
Jews defined the covenant community in the Israelite categories of Abrahamic
descent and possession of the Law of Moses. While they recognized “God-fearing
Gentiles” and non-Israelite proselytes to Judaism, the privilege of covenant
election and status belonged uniquely to the house of Israel (cf. Matthew 3:7-9;
John 5:45-47, 8:31-41, 9:13-34, esp. vv. 26-29; cf. also Acts 10:1-28, 11:1-3). A
Gentile might convert to Judaism, but he was still regarded as a non-Israelite.
This Jew-Gentile distinction wasn’t without biblical basis, for the Scriptures
everywhere distinguished between the two. The prophets had promised a global
salvation flowing out of the presence and work of Yahweh’s Servant, but this
involved the salvation of Israel and the nations. Though the Gentiles would be
granted a share in Yahweh’s spiritual redemption, they would do so in distinction
from the house of Israel (cf. for example Isaiah 11:1-12, 19:19-25, 49:1-6).
b.
The Old Testament scriptures declared that, with the coming of the Servant, status
among the covenant people would be determined by one’s relation to Him; so it is
that, in the fullness of the times, union with Christ has become the basis and
substance of a person’s membership in the covenant community. But, as before,
this membership began with Abraham’s biological descendents and moved
outward to the Gentiles. The first converts to Christ were almost entirely Jewish;
only later did the gospel begin to draw in the Gentiles. This widening of God’s
people had been predicted by the prophets and wasn’t unexpected by the early
Jewish Church; what the Scriptures hadn’t prepared them for was how to relate to
and interact with the Gentiles who were coming to Christ.
-
In former times, Gentiles had come into the covenant community of Israel
by converting to Judaism and conforming themselves to the prescriptions
of Israel’s covenant. Because the Law of Moses defined and prescribed
every facet of Jewish life (cultural and practical as well as religious), a
Gentile’s conformity to the Law effectively meant his becoming a Jew.
-
That being the case, it was perfectly natural that the early Jewish
Christians thought of Gentile believers in the same way. Expressive of
their entrance into the covenant household, shouldn’t Gentile Christians
have to adopt Jewish practices associated with the Law of Moses?
This was precisely the quandary that led to the Jerusalem counsel (Acts 15:1ff).
As more and more Gentiles were being saved, it became increasingly evident that
the Church needed to address the problem of Gentile “obedience”; yes, the
Gentiles were saved through faith in Christ, but didn’t their place in the covenant
community imply their obligation to the practices of that community? Shouldn’t
Gentile believers also have to receive the Abrahamic sign of circumcision and
conform to the covenant definition provided by the Law (vv. 1-5)?
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This context is pivotal within the book of Acts and crucially important to its
message and meaning. Acts provides an historical account of the early Church,
but Luke wasn’t interested in an historical documentary; his intent was to record
the salvation-historical transition from the old order to the new one that has come
in Christ. It is noteworthy that, as the account of the Jerusalem counsel comes at
the book’s midpoint, it arguably serves as the main theological hinge within it.
-
Preceding this context is Luke’s account of the primarily Jewish Church
and the beginning of the Gentile mission.
-
The balance of the book is pointedly focused on the reality underlying the
need for the Jewish Jerusalem counsel, namely the influx of Gentiles into
the Church. And as the Gentile presence in the covenant community
increased, the Jewish one decreased such that the overall Jewish relation to
the Church became one of hostility and opposition. Thus Luke closes his
account with Paul’s capstone indictment of Jewish unbelief (28:16-28).
By recounting the debate and outcome of the Jerusalem counsel, Luke was able to
show the fundamental ways the new order differs from the old one. This, in turn,
provides an explanation for the Jews’ unbelief and the resultant movement toward
a predominantly Gentile Church as recorded in the balance of his treatise.
At the heart of the resolution of the quandary is James’ interaction with the
prophecy of Amos (15:13-18). The section James cited focuses on God’s promise
to restore David’s fallen tabernacle and the purpose for that restoration.
-
Like his prophetic counterparts, Amos spoke of the coming desolation of
the two houses of Israel, and this implied the destruction of David’s throne
and kingdom. Jeremiah added that David’s dynastic “house” was also to
be thrown down by the severing of his royal line of descent (22:24-30).
-
But desolation wasn’t Yahweh’s final word, for He had made a covenant
with David in which He promised to build and establish David’s house,
throne, and kingdom forever.
It was precisely this covenant oath that Amos had in mind. Yahweh had promised
to restore David’s fallen “house,” and James regarded this promise as having been
fulfilled in relation to Christ. Recalling that the covenant promise of a Davidic
“house” looked first to a coming seed, the foundational point of fulfillment was
Jesus’ resurrection and enthronement. God had raised up David’s dynastic
“house” by raising David’s Son, and now that Son was continuing the work of
restoring David’s house by building a house for Yahweh through His work of
ingathering. Even as David’s house had consisted of the twelve tribes of Israel,
the eschatological house of David’s covenant heir was now being constructed
from a remnant of Israel together with men drawn from all the nations of the earth
(cf. again Acts 1:1-8 and 2:17-18, 37-39 with Isaiah 11:10-12; 1 Peter 2:4-10).
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James discerned in the salvation of the Gentiles the realization of Amos’
prophetic promise, and the wording he chose to quote that prophecy (reflecting
the Septuagint reading) provides insight into how he understood its fulfillment.
Most important is the recognition that James regarded that particular fulfillment
as answering definitively the question of Gentile conformity to Jewish practice.
-
In the context of the prophecy itself, Amos saw the restoration of David’s
fallen tabernacle as directly facilitating the conquest of the Gentile
nations. Yahweh was going to rebuild David’s house for the express
purpose of enabling Israel to “possess the remnant of Edom and all the
nations.” This future outcome was consistent with David’s own reign: He
had brought the Israelite kingdom to its Abrahamic extent by conquering
the nations from the Euphrates River in the east to the Nile in the west (cf.
Genesis 15:18 with 1 Chronicles 18:1-13; 1 Kings 4:21).
-
David’s conquest of the nations surrounding Israel fulfilled God’s land
promise to Abraham. This circumstance, in turn, was intended to facilitate
the corresponding Abrahamic promise of global blessing. As Yahweh’s
chosen son-king and epitomizing Israelite (seed of Abraham), David was
to mediate the knowledge of Israel’s God to all the families of the earth;
instead, his great failure as king was that he gave occasion to the nations
to blaspheme Him (2 Samuel 12:7-14).
-
It is also crucial to note that these conquered nations weren’t annexed so
as to become a formal part of Israel. The Gentiles within the Abrahamic
boundaries came under David’s dominion and served him with their
allegiance and tribute, but they weren’t grafted into the nation of Israel.
James understood this, and interpreted Amos’ prophecy of a future “possession”
of the nations in the same way: The restoration of David’s royal dynasty in order
to again “possess” the non-Israelite nations meant their subjection to David’s
covenant Son. Once more, in the fullness of the times, the true boundaries – that
is, the global boundaries – of the Abrahamic kingdom would be established by the
Abrahamic descendent who is the promised Davidic Seed. Like His father, this
King would take possession of the Gentiles and bring them into His kingdom by
binding them to His rule and service, not by transforming them into Israelites.
The answer to the Gentile question lay in understanding the fulfillment that had
come in Christ and the new order He had instituted. The Abrahamic kingdom (the
kingdom of God) and its promise of blessing are conveyed upon the Gentiles –
those called by Yahweh’s name, not by their becoming Jews, but by their being
brought under the lordship of the true David. What this means is that Gentile
believers are not obligated to submit or conform to Jewish practices. Being bound
to serve David their Prince, their only obligation is to refrain from practices
associated with idolatry. Like believing Jews, they are sons of Abraham: God is
their God and they are His people (cf. 15:19-20 with Leviticus 17:7-14, 18:1-30).
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c.
The apostle Paul was present at the Jerusalem Council, and Luke records no
dissension on his part respecting James’ conclusion. More importantly, Paul and
Barnabas were among those who carried the elders’ letter of resolution back to the
church at Antioch and presented their decision to the saints there (Acts 15:22-31).
Apart from any consideration of Paul’s writings, these observations are sufficient
to show that he agreed with James’ and the counsel’s conviction that Gentile
believers are not obligated to keep either the rite of circumcision or the Law of
Moses; their sole obligation is unqualified devotion to the Lord Jesus Christ.
At the same time, without Paul’s letters the crucial question of the disposition of
circumcision and the Mosaic Law under the new order would lack a clear and
complete answer in the New Testament. Based only on the ruling of the Jerusalem
Counsel, one might fairly conclude that both circumcision and the Law of Moses
– as the preeminent identity markers of God’s people in the time preceding Christ
– have passed away without any connection to the present age of fulfillment.
Paul’s writings, however, show that this is not the case; the role of circumcision
and law in defining the people of God hasn’t been abrogated with the
inauguration of the new age. At first glance, this may appear to set Paul at odds
with the Jerusalem Counsel and his own concurrence at that time. But, quite the
contrary, consistent with the counsel’s christocentric perspective, Paul saw the
continuing relevance of circumcision and the Law precisely in terms of Christ’s
fulfillment and the believer’s singular obligation of devotion to Him.
1)
Circumcision was the sign of the Abrahamic Covenant, and that covenant
introduced the idea of a corporate people for God’s own possession. God
covenanted to be the God of Abraham and his descendents, and, at the
level of the twelve Israelite tribes descended from him, this relationship
was administered by means of the Sinai Covenant (“Law of Moses”).
2)
But the Abrahamic Covenant was also prophetic. In the first place, it
promised to Abraham the kingdom components of land, seed, and
blessing: Abraham would become the father of a royal seed coming to
fruition in a multitude of nations. That seed, in turn, would dwell with
Yahweh in His sanctuary-land and, in the context of the intimate
communion between covenant son and Father, the blessing of the true
knowledge of God would be mediated to all the earth’s families.
In essence, God promised Abraham a kingdom that would realize His
ancient oath to bring about the consummate restoration of sacred space.
3)
As a prophetic instrument, the Abrahamic Covenant had a near-term
referent in the Israelite kingdom. That kingdom represented a quasirecovery of sacred space in Yahweh’s “creation” of a new “son” to dwell
with Him in the place of His sanctuary – an Edenic land flowing with milk
and honey (cf. Exodus 3:6-8, 4:22, 15:16-17; Numbers 13:17-27).
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But the ultimate referent of the Abrahamic Covenant transcended the
nation of Israel and their earthly kingdom. The marrow of the covenant
promise consisted in the particulars of land, seed, and blessing, and all of
these were destined to converge in the Lord Jesus Christ.
4)
-
Even apart from the New Testament witness (i.e., Galatians 3:16),
the Scriptures indicated that the promise of a seed looked to a
single individual. Israel was Abraham’s seed, but the nation’s
failure to fulfill its Abrahamic identity and calling provided the
occasion for God’s promise of another Israel (Isaiah 49:1ff).
-
So also the promise of a land was God’s pledge to fulfill His oath
to be the God of Abraham’s seed – to establish them with Him in
the place of His own sanctuary. God promised the land of Canaan
to Abraham, but before his descendents had even approached its
border they already recognized it to be the divine habitation. Their
possession of Canaan meant dwelling in God’s presence. Thus the
land promise spoke of sacred space – the place of divine-human
communion, and that, too, was realized in Christ (John 1:1, 14).
-
Finally, the promise of blessing was that, through Abraham and his
seed, all the families of the earth would obtain the true human
blessedness of restored relational intimacy with the Creator-Father.
God’s promise to Abraham of global blessing through his seed was
simply the reaffirmation of His pledge in Eden to end the curse of
estrangement through a son of Eve, the “mother of all the living.”
The promise and fulfillment of a “people for God’s own possession” –
which are bound up in the Abrahamic Covenant – are centered in Jesus
Christ. This being the case, it follows that circumcision and the Law of
Moses – themselves Abrahamic entities – should also look to find their
fulfillment in Christ. Paul’s letters affirm this and show how it is so.
The place to begin is with Paul’s doctrine of the new creation, especially
as it focuses on the human race. Paul recognized that the prophetic
promise of creational renewal has been realized through Christ’s work, but
that, in the present age, it extends only to the spirit of men. Like the rest of
the material creation, the renewal of man’s physicality awaits the Parousia
(Romans 8:18-25). Nevertheless, if any person is “in Christ,” he is a “new
creature”; he has entered into the renewal that Jesus inaugurated in
Himself as the Last Adam (2 Corinthians 5:17; cf. 1 Corinthians 15:20ff).
But this renewal of man has a relational goal. Man is “image-son,” so that
his renewal means the restoration of his communion with his CreatorFather. For man, death is estrangement; life is the fullness and perfection
of the divine-human intimacy for which the image-son was created.
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So it is that believers are enlivened through faith in Christ by the
indwelling presence of Christ’s Spirit. For man, the new creation is
“Christ in you”; life in Christ is the death of alienation and the recovery
and perfecting of the spiritual intimacy that is the goal of man’s nature.
With respect to both promise and fulfillment, the “people of God” is a
relational conception, and it is the renewal secured by Christ’s selfoffering and made effectual by His Spirit that has brought the promise to
its ordained fulfillment. The divine-human intimacy pledged in the
Abrahamic Covenant and portrayed in the Israelite kingdom has now been
realized in and through the true Man and true Seed of Abraham.
What this means is that now, in the fullness of the times, men become
members of the covenant household – that is, sons of God – by spiritual
union with the Son through His indwelling Spirit. Unlike the former era
when covenant membership was entirely physical – being a matter of
genealogical descent, possession of a physical sign, and outward
conformity to a written covenant definition, membership in the covenant
community is now a spiritual matter, free of physical concerns.
A person is a covenant son by virtue of spiritual union with the true
covenant Son: “If anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not
belong to Him” (Romans 8:9). And if a person doesn’t belong to Christ –
who is the Seed to whom the Abrahamic promise pertained, then he has no
share in Abraham and the promises made to him. Those joined to Christ
are sons of Abraham and heirs of the promise, “You shall be My people.”
They alone comprise the covenant community, the “people of God.”
5)
It is in connection with this reality of the new creation that the continuing
significance of circumcision and the Law of Moses is discovered and
discerned. The new creation is the substance of the fulfillment that has
come in Christ; at the same time, fulfillment is itself simply the realization
of what was promised. The implication of these things is that the new
creation was the heart of Old Testament promise (which indeed it was).
And since circumcision and the Law of Moses were central to the
developing promise, it also follows that they looked to the new creation.
This latter implication is substantiated by Jesus’ own insistence that all the
Scriptures testified of Him – the Scriptures that give such a prominent
place to circumcision and the Mosaic Law. The point is simply this:
As external covenant definition and physical sign, the Law of Moses and
circumcision were prophetic and christocentric; they portrayed and
anticipated their own fulfillment in a spiritual, new creational counterpart
to be realized through the work of Yahweh’s messianic Servant.”
This is, in fact, exactly what Paul argued throughout his writings.
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Circumcision was the sign of God’s covenant with Abraham, and the goal
of that covenant was to establish a people for God’s own possession. This
covenant community would be comprised of Abraham’s biological and
non-biological household as each member possessed the sign of the
covenant. Thus God demanded that every Israelite be circumcised
(Leviticus 12:1-3; cf. Joshua 5:1-9); anyone who lacked the sign, God
rejected from membership among His people (Genesis 17:10-14).
The reason is that circumcision spoke of consecration to Yahweh, the God
of the covenant. The excising of body tissue symbolized the severing of
the person himself from natural attachments and allegiances; circumcision
signified that God’s people were wholly set apart to Him. Thus it spoke of
a spiritual reality, but only as a physical representation of it.
Circumcision did not and could not effect that which it signified, namely
the circumcision of the heart (cf. Deuteronomy 10:11-16; Jeremiah 4:1-4).
What circumcision represented lay beyond the capability of Abraham’s
household (Jeremiah 9:25-26). Thus the Lord made true circumcision a
matter of divine promise; He would fulfill the sign in its spiritual
counterpart – the circumcision of the man himself (Deuteronomy 30:1-6).
Paul recognized that the “fullness of the times” hadn’t altered the fact of
Abraham’s covenant household being distinguished by circumcision, but
he understood that their circumcision now reflects Yahweh’s fulfilled
promise: In the new age, people are sons of Abraham and members of his
covenant household by spiritual circumcision done by Christ’s Spirit. And
as with the promissory sign, all who lack this fulfilled circumcision are
outside the covenant community, being “cut off” from God’s people (cf.
again Romans 2:28-29, 4:1-12; Colossians 2:8-12).
Now that promise has yielded to fulfillment, “neither is circumcision
anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation.” To all who discern this
standard of the new order and determine to walk in accordance with it,
Paul proclaimed “peace and mercy upon them” (Galatians 6:15-16). Paul
not only fiercely opposed Jewish believers who sought to impose
circumcision on their Gentile brethren, he equally insisted that Jews who
had come to Christ regard their own circumcision as utterly irrelevant. In
the presence of the substance, the shadow was to be set aside as obsolete
(Colossians 2:16-3:11).
The same principle of inward, spiritual fulfillment applies to the
continuing role of the Law of Moses. Like circumcision, the Mosaic Law
was grounded in the Abrahamic Covenant and it, too, served a prophetic
role, anticipating its own fulfillment in relation to the Seed of Abraham
(cf. Matthew 5:17-20, 11:13). Few disagree at this point; the matter of
contention is the nature, outcome, and implications of this fulfillment.
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First of all, it’s vital to recognize that the dynamic of promise/fulfillment
always involves movement from the lesser to the greater, and particularly
from the physical to the spiritual. This principle was demonstrated with
circumcision, but it is equally true of every matter of biblical promise,
whether issued as direct prophecy or by means of typology. This is not to
say that biblical fulfillment in any given instance is devoid of any physical
aspect, but only that fulfillment always involves the spiritualizing of the
corresponding promise. Such is the case with the Law of Moses.
In its historical context, the Mosaic Law was the covenant instrument for
administering at the national level the divine-human relationship instituted
by the Abrahamic Covenant. The Law didn’t bypass or annul the former
covenant; it presupposed and served it. The Law facilitated the
relationship between God and Abraham’s seed, and it did so specifically
by defining the parties to the relationship as well as the relationship itself.
The Law formally ratified Israel’s status as “son of God” and it defined to
the covenant “son” what sonship entails and requires. Most simply, the
Sinai Covenant acted to define Israel to Israel, and in that way define also
the God of the covenant to the covenant seed.
Because the Law of Moses defined and prescribed Israel’s sonship as the
Abrahamic seed, its sole concern was love. Whatever the specific law,
ordinance, or commandment, the issue was the same: Israel was to be
wholly devoted to its covenant Father-God. The Jews well understood this
(cf. Matthew 22:35-40; Mark 12:28-33), but were unable to satisfy the
Law’s demand. Israel could not fulfill its identity and calling as the Seed
of Abraham, and this inability meant that, if God’s promise to Abraham
were to be realized, He would need to raise up another Israel. By fulfilling
Israel’s identity and calling, this One would fulfill the Law.
This is the key to understanding how Jesus “fulfilled” the Law. The
common conception is that Jesus meticulously and perfectly kept every
command and detail associated with the Law, but this misses the true
nature of His fulfillment. Jesus fulfilled the Law by being the One the Law
defined and demanded; He fulfilled the Law by being Israel in truth –
Seed of Abraham, chosen Son, Servant, Disciple and Witness to the
Father; He fulfilled the Law by being the Son defined by love.
In Christ, the identity markers of the people of God are brought to their true
fulfillment. They are transformed into their spiritual counterparts, and in that way
they continue to play a role in the New Covenant household. God’s people are
still determined by circumcision (Colossians 2:9-12), and they “keep” the Law by
being found in the One who is Himself the fulfillment of the Law (Romans 8:1-4),
even as they are being transformed into His likeness. Far from being at odds with
each other, James and Paul are in perfect accord. The believer’s practical devotion
to the enthroned Son of David is merely the life of his spiritual union with Him.
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d.
Entirely consistent with the pattern of biblical typology, the realization in
fulfillment of the “people of God” has seen, not the abrogation of that
community’s former identity markers, but their individual fulfillment. The
physical entities that marked out the Lord’s physical covenant household in the
time of preparation have yielded, in the fullness of the times, to their spiritual
counterparts, even as has the covenant community itself.
God’s people are still set apart to Him through circumcision and bound to Him by
covenant union. Now, however, those physical signs that established and
governed the physical (and prophetic) relationship between Yahweh and
Abraham’s descendents have been replaced with the inward, authentic realities
portrayed by their predecessors. Covenant relationship with God is no longer
external and symbolic; men are related to Him in accordance with authentic
spiritual union by the indwelling Spirit. Divine-human relationship has been fully
realized in the recovery of sacred space.
This realization of relationship in fulfillment – especially as attested in the
fulfillment of the identifying marks of the people of God – is vitally important in
the next consideration respecting the identity of the covenant community, namely
the salvation-historical relationship between Israel and the Church. Everything to
this point indicates that Israel has found its fulfilled expression in the Church as
God’s covenant people. All Christians acknowledge that, in some sense at least,
Israel has yielded to the Church in the age of fulfillment. But this means radically
different things to different people within differing Christian traditions.
-
For dispensationalists, the Church’s supplanting of Israel in the present
age is merely the indication that God’s purposes for His first and primary
“chosen people” have been put on hold until a future time. Whether by
fulfillment or outright replacement, Dispensationalism rejects any notion
that the Church has become (and will forever be) the “people of God.”
-
Historical Covenant Theology, on the other hand, fully embraces the fact
that the Church is the fulfillment of Israel as God’s covenant household.
However, it understands fulfillment in a manner that emphasizes
constancy far more than transformation. Covenant Theology regards the
Church as the “people of God” in the present age, but it conceives of that
community as remaining essentially the same as it was in its Israelite
expression. Most importantly to the present discussion, it regards the
Church as constituting a composite society just as was the case with Israel.
At the risk of oversimplification, whereas Dispensationalism sees a distinct future
for the covenant nation of Israel, Covenant Theology sees Israel’s continued
existence in the Church. The “economy” of the “people of God” has changed with
Christ’s coming, but the constituency of the covenant community – and so also at
least some aspects of its relationship with God – remains the same. This is clearly
evident in at least two important particulars:
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1)
The first involves the identity sign of circumcision. Covenant Theology
sees the fulfillment of this sign, not in spiritual circumcision as such, but
in water baptism. Just as circumcision was applied to “covenant children”
under the former economy of the covenant community, so it is with
baptism in the present economy. Circumcision was performed on an infant
to identify him as a member of Abraham’s covenant household, and
baptism is said to serve the same purpose today. The crucial point is this:
In Covenant Theology, personal faith in Christ – and, with it, the
circumcision of the heart – isn’t the ground of membership in the covenant
community; membership is obtained by the application of a physical
sign. As it was for the people of Israel, so it is for the Church.
This understanding must obviously pass the test of the biblical text itself,
and, in that regard, it’s noteworthy that it finds virtually no support:
a)
The most common defense is the argument from silence. That is,
paedo-baptists argue that if God didn’t intend the children of
Christians to be baptized, He would have forbidden the practice in
the New Testament. Apart from the obvious problems inherent in
using silence as an argument, this conclusion is invalid because it
is grounded in assumed premises. The first underlying premise of
paedo-baptists is that the early Church baptized their children as a
normative practice. This premise has its origin in long-standing
Church doctrine more than the New Testament text. In turn, it is
facilitated by another assumption, namely the replacement of the
sign of circumcision with water baptism. The logic is as follows:
The early Christians recognized that baptism has replaced
circumcision as the sign of the covenant and so baptized their
infant children. This being the case, God’s silence regarding infant
baptism indicates His affirmation of the practice.
This line of reasoning notwithstanding, it is a basic principle of
logic that a valid conclusion cannot be inferred from incorrect or
unproven premises. Whatever one may believe about the practice
of the early Church, the New Testament record of that period gives
no indication that infant baptism was a normative (let alone
prescribed) practice. Even less does the New Testament teach that
baptism has replaced circumcision as covenant sign.
b)
A more subtle textual argument for paedo-baptism involves
reasoning from the symbolic nature of a sign. Because a sign is a
signifier – that is to say, it stands as a symbolic representation of
something else, distinction must be made between a sign and the
thing it signifies. Another way of expressing this is that a symbol
must not be confused with that which it symbolizes.
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This obvious distinction becomes an ingenious device in the hands
of paedo-baptists. On the one hand, it allows them to acknowledge
the fact that the New Testament everywhere associates water
baptism with personal union with Christ by His Spirit. Baptism
connotes purification by washing, and actual cleansing is the result
of a person’s share in Christ and His purifying work. Baptism
speaks of the “washing of regeneration and renewing by the Holy
Spirit” (Titus 3:5; cf. Ephesians 5:25-27; 1 Peter 3:18-22), and so
it also symbolizes a person’s union with Christ in His death, burial
and resurrection to newness of life (Colossians 2:8-13).
These considerations argue against baptizing those who haven’t
been personally cleansed from sin and joined to Christ, but this is
where the distinction between sign and thing signified comes into
play. Paedo-baptists argue that, because baptism is a sign, it simply
signifies union with Christ; it neither effects that union nor
presupposes it. A sign and that which it signifies are not the same
thing; so the sign of baptism doesn’t indicate that the baptized
person actually possesses that which baptism signifies.
This may seem to be a powerful argument, but it fails to take into
account a critical aspect of the relationship between “sign” and
“thing signified”: While they obviously must be distinguished as
separate entities, they are nonetheless mutually referential. The
whole point of a sign is to represent, in a physical, tangible form,
the reality to which it refers. If baptism symbolizes union with
Christ, but that union is never realized in the experience of the
baptized person, then “sign” and “thing signified” have no actual
relation to one another; far from being mutually referential, the
applied sign actually lies against the thing it purportedly signifies.
c)
A third point of supposed biblical support for paedo-baptism is the
presence of household baptisms in the New Testament. This is the
best textual argument for baptizing babies, but a more careful
consideration of the biblical witness actually supports the doctrine
of believer’s baptism (credo-baptism). Because there are only a
handful of passages that address the issue of household baptisms,
they can be examined in short order.
The first involves the baptizing of Cornelius’ household following
Peter’s proclamation of the gospel to them (Acts 10:44-48). This
was indeed a “household baptism,” but the text is emphatic that
Peter felt compelled to administer water baptism to them precisely
because all present had been baptized in the Spirit just as had the
apostles and those with them on Pentecost. Cornelius’ entire
household was baptized because they had all been joined to Christ.
230
Another incident of household baptism involved the Philippian
jailer and his coming to faith in Christ in connection with a
terrifying earthquake (Acts 16:25-34). At that time, he brought
Paul and Silas from the jail to his home where he cleaned and
dressed their wounds. While there, Paul preached the gospel to all
present and they were all subsequently baptized. The key to this
passage is the grammatical function of the Greek adverb translated
“with his whole household” in the NAS. Robertson rightly notes
that it can be understood in one of two ways: It modifies either the
verb, “rejoiced,” or the participle rendered “having believed.”
-
In the case of the former, the matter of the faith of the
whole baptized household is left unresolved.
-
With the second option, the meaning is that the jailer had
believed together with his whole house, Luke thereby
providing the basis for their baptism (ref. esp. v. 31).
Even assuming Luke intended the first meaning, that doesn’t
necessitate the conclusion that the jailer’s household was baptized
purely on the basis of his faith. On the other hand, the second
meaning does demand the understanding that personal faith
preceded the application of baptism. The most a paedo-baptist can
derive from this passage is the support lent by ambiguity.
So it is with the preceding incident involving a woman named
Lydia and her household. Luke records that, after the Lord had
opened her heart to respond to Paul’s gospel, she and her
household were baptized (Acts 16:11-15). This is notably the only
context in the New Testament that doesn’t provide direct textual
support for baptism on the basis of personal faith. However, like
the account of the Philippian jailer, it provides no unequivocal
proof that Lydia’s unbelieving family members were baptized on
the basis of her faith; it is simply silent on the matter.
Two other passages should be noted, one of which is Paul’s
statement regarding his baptizing of Stephanus’ household (1
Corinthians 1:16). Since this was only a passing comment for
which the Scripture provides no historical account, it’s pointless to
try to draw support for paedo-baptism from it. The other passage is
also in the book of Acts (18:7-8), but a careful reading shows that
it doesn’t directly speak to the issue of household baptism. Luke
records that Crispus believed with his whole household, not that
his house was baptized. In fact, far from supporting paedo-baptism,
the passage argues against it by explicitly stating that believing
Corinthians were being baptized (v. 8).
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Quite apart from the textual problems, the notion of household
baptisms supporting the doctrine of paedo-baptism is plagued by
another critical difficulty. That is the fact that New Testament
households included servants as well as family members. Using the
example of early church households as biblical precedent for
baptizing unbelieving children is actually saying too much, for the
New Testament record takes paedo-baptists beyond where they’re
willing to go. They want to apply water baptism only to their
“covenant children,” not household employees and other nonfamily members. But this is precisely where the text takes them if
they’re going to hold it up as establishing “household baptism.”
The above considerations show the lack of New Testament support for
baptizing unbelievers, but an equally compelling refutation is directed at
the justification for it, namely the notion that water baptism has replaced
circumcision as the sign of the covenant and primary identity marker of
the covenant community. Whether or not this idea is biblically defensible,
it has unquestionably facilitated the continuance of the deeply-entrenched
practice of regarding baptized children as members of Christ’s Church.
The Reformers defended this practice because they were absolutely
determined to retain it; such resolve insured that biblical justification
would be found. This sort of passionate commitment continues to this day:
“Are [these little ones, by virtue of the parents’ relationship to Christ,]
also brought into a new relationship with Christ even though they are too
young intellectually to apprehend the gospel and to appropriate it for
themselves in the conscious exercise of repentance and faith? Does their
psychological inability to fulfill the conditions required of adult converts
render the idea of discipleship meaningless so far as infants and small
children are concerned? Or, [is their covenant status to be granted and
baptism to be administered to them, and] are they to be discipled along
with their believing parents, given the solidarity of the family unit?”
(David C. Jones, from an unpublished classroom lecture)
Though this statement is marred by special pleading and confusion of
categories, it does emphasize the real issue for paedo-baptists, which is the
important place Covenant Theology affords to “covenant children” within
the covenant community.
While some traditions within Reformed Theology have historically
associated baptism with the child’s actual regeneration and union with
Christ (as do Roman Catholic theology and some aberrant Christian sects),
most paedo-baptists regard baptism simply as a sign of those things. Their
conviction is that baptism doesn’t save, but that it grants the child formal
membership in the covenant community and thereby confers upon him the
grace that attends that community.
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At the same time, Covenant Theology’s insistence that baptism is also a
seal of the person’s regeneration and share in Christ appears to indicate
more than mere membership in the visible community of God’s people
(ref. Westminster Confession of Faith, Section XXVIII). For, while a seal
may not consummate the thing indicated by it, it certainly testifies to the
real existence of the thing such that it is secured for the future (cf. Romans
4:9-11, 15:26-28; 1 Corinthians 9:1-2; 2 Timothy 2:19; Revelation 9:4)..
Even if most paedo-baptists don’t associate personal regeneration and
actual union with Christ with the ordinance of baptism, they universally
hold that baptism is the sign of the covenant whereby the baptized person
becomes a true member of the covenant household. Central to Covenant
Theology is an ecclesiology of a composite Church: The “people of God”
consists of unsaved, unregenerate individuals as well as those who have
been personally and authentically joined to Christ.
Given that this ecclesiology can’t be supported from the New Testament
(or from the Old Testament’s definition of the people of God under the
new covenant – Jeremiah 31:31-34), the obvious question is how did this
doctrine arise in Covenant Theology?
The answer is found in the historical context of the Reformation. At that
time in the sixteenth century, the Church had for more than a millennium
embraced a sacral conception of the “people of God” in which every
baptized member of the community was regarded as a Christian. By the
act of christening, a child was made a member of Christendom – the
church-state “kingdom” that first expressed itself as the Holy Roman
Empire following the reign of Constantine.
While the Reformers rejected much of Roman Catholic doctrine, they
refused to depart from its sacral ecclesiology; cultural and magisterial
pressures dictated the perpetuation of Christendom within Protestantism,
both on the European continent and in Great Britain. The Reformers were
unwilling to depart from the notion of a sacral Church, but they were
equally determined to biblically justify their position. However deeply
ingrained, this doctrine, too, had to stand the test of sola scriptura.
In this regard, it is telling that the Reformers found the biblical vindication
for the composite Church, not in the New Testament, but in the Old. Not
the new covenant Church, but old covenant Israel provided the exemplar
for a covenant community consisting of unbelievers and believers alike.
Like Reformation Europe, Israel was a church-state: Membership in the
“people of God” didn’t derive from personal faith, but from personal
possession of the physical sign of the covenant. This paradigm perfectly
suited the entrenched and largely unquestioned medieval ecclesiology
which taught membership in the Church through baptism.
233
True, the Reformers largely departed from Rome’s contention that a
person couldn’t be finally saved apart from baptism, but they unashamedly
retained its long-standing conviction that “christening” was the basis for a
person’s membership in the Church and status as a “Christian.”
The Reformers found biblical warrant for their sacral ecclesiology in
theocratic Israel, with the result that Israel soon was being referred to
under the label of “Church.” Indeed, this development was inevitable. For
once it is assumed that old covenant Israel defines the nature and
composition of the new covenant Church, it follows that the two must be
substantially the same entity. This is precisely where Covenant Theology
landed: Israel and the Church are essentially different expressions of the
one “people of God,” being distinguished primarily by the particular
“economy” in which they exist.
And once the Church is equated with Israel in this way, the next step is to
see membership in the community of the Church as being determined in
the same way as it was for Israel, namely by possession of a covenantal
sign. For Israel, that sign was circumcision; for Christendom, baptism had
always secured membership in the Church. Didn’t it make sense, then, to
regard baptism as the sign of the covenant for the covenant community in
the present age? In effect, hadn’t the Church practiced this very thing for
more than a thousand years? And if baptism is the sign of the covenant in
the Christian era, it follows that it has replaced circumcision.
In the end, the notion of “covenant children” and their membership in the
covenant community by virtue of their baptism is grounded in historical
practice and long-standing ecclesiastical tradition rather than biblical
exegesis. Ecclesiastical precedent isn’t irrelevant, but the Church’s
conviction and practice mean nothing unless they’re legitimated by the
text of the Scripture, properly interpreted. Much more could be said about
the failure of Covenant Theology to correctly understand the dynamic of
promise and fulfillment in relation to the people of God, but a couple of
final observations are important to make. This first is this:
By finding in water baptism the fulfillment of the covenant sign of
circumcision, Covenant Theology has violated the consistent biblical
paradigm of promise and fulfillment.
This study has noted repeatedly that the movement from promise to
fulfillment is always upward, from a physical embodiment to its spiritual
counterpart. Thus the New Testament everywhere indicates that
circumcision has found its fulfillment in the inward, spiritual circumcision
performed by the Spirit of Christ. But to claim that water baptism has
replaced circumcision as the covenantal sign marking out the people of
God is to depart from this biblical paradigm:
234
It is to argue that a physical sign that merely signified a reality it didn’t
effect (ref. again Deuteronomy 10:11-16; Jeremiah 9:25-26), has found its
christological fulfillment in yet another physical sign that likewise does
nothing more than point to something it neither certifies nor effects.
In this instance, the supposed “fulfillment” not only violates the biblical
nature of christological fulfillment, it is really no fulfillment at all.
Promise is simply replaced by a different promise – a promise that, unlike
circumcision, never finds its fulfilled realization with respect to multitudes
in the covenant household. In the time of preparation, the whole covenant
community was identified by circumcision, and so it is in the age of
fulfillment. But where is fulfillment in a covenant sign whose “promise” is
never realized? Many so-called “covenant children” who bear the alleged
sign of the covenant and of membership in the covenant household never
truly enter into that covenant or its community. In their case, the sign is an
empty fraud that communicates a lie.
One final important biblical argument against the notion of water baptism
replacing circumcision is Paul’s repeated association of true Abrahamic
descent with personal faith in Christ. In the context of the fulfillment of
the Abrahamic symbolism, the sons of the covenant – that is, the members
of the covenant household – are those who personally share Abraham’s
faith, regardless of their physical circumcision (cf. Romans 4:1-12;
Galatians 3:1-9). In this regard, Paul was simply reiterating what Jesus
Himself had insisted upon (John 8:31-45). If, therefore, in the age of
fulfillment Abraham’s covenant children are distinguished by possessing
the faith of their father, how can it be argued that unbelieving children –
whether baptized or not – are members of his household?
In summary, Paul taught that the covenant community consists of all those and
only those who have been joined to Christ by the new birth.
-
This “life out of death” brings forth a “new man,” re-recreated in Christ by
the Spirit and consecrated to God (Romans 6:1-10). It is this “cutting off
of the body of the flesh” that fulfills the rite of circumcision, not the
sprinkling of infants with water.
-
For its part, baptism does correspond to circumcision in the sense that it
represents a personal and public testimony to the fact of one’s spiritual
circumcision. Baptism hasn’t replaced circumcision; it testifies to a
person’s participation in that which has replaced (by way of fulfillment)
circumcision, namely the spiritual, inward circumcision done, not by
human hands sprinkling water, but by the renewing, transforming power
of the Spirit. Water baptism signifies – in fact, not in hope – a person’s
participation in the fulfillment of sacred space in Christ.
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2)
The second matter to consider with respect to the Israel-Church question
as it relates to the identity of the “people of God” is the Law of Moses.
The reason again is that, along with circumcision, the Mosaic Law (the
Sinai Covenant) was the foundational identity marker of Yahweh’s people
leading up to the coming of Christ. From the time of Abraham’s calling,
membership in God’s household was determined by participation in the
Abrahamic Covenant, and this meant bearing the covenant sign of
circumcision. But with the nationalizing of the Abrahamic covenant
community, personal ownership of the national covenant – the Law of
Moses – was added to the Abrahamic sign as identifying those who were
God’s people. Thus the quandary addressed by the Jerusalem Council.
There is no disagreement among Christians that the nation of Israel was
established and governed by the Sinai Covenant; what is disputed is the
nature of Christ’s fulfillment of that covenant (especially as it is regarded
as God’s “law”). The answer to this question is of paramount importance,
for it determines how a person understands the nature and extent of the
Mosaic Law’s continuing relevance for the Church as God’s people.
Again, no orthodox Christian questions that the Law of Moses, like
circumcision, had a christological trajectory and point of fulfillment. It’s
impossible to read the New Testament and conclude otherwise, and a
careful reading of the Old Testament leads to the same conclusion. But
though all agree with the fact of the Law’s fulfillment in Christ, there is
wide divergence in the understanding of what that means and entails.
-
Recognizing that the Mosaic Law governed Israel’s relationship
with God, dispensationalists have generally held that it has no
direct relevance to the Church. The Old Covenant was God’s
covenant with Israel, even as its New Covenant fulfillment is said
to focus on the Israelite people (ref. Jeremiah 31:31-33). The Law
of Moses pertains to the Church only in the sense that it provides
instruction in the character of God and His moral, ethical, and
spiritual demands upon His human creatures.
-
On the other hand, Covenant Theology sees an essential continuity
within God’s household; though real distinctions exist between
them, Old Covenant Israel and the New Covenant Church are at
bottom two manifestations of the one covenant community. This
conviction of essential continuity in the covenant people (which
facilitated the Reformers’ perpetuation of the Church’s longstanding sacral ecclesiology) is a fundamental premise behind
Covenant Theology’s doctrine of baptism, but it equally underlies
its conception of Christ’s fulfillment of the Law of Moses and the
Law’s continuing relevance for the “people of God” in the New
Testament age.
236
The Reformers were committed to preserving the notion of a composite
Church and they looked to the Old Testament for biblical support: The
vindication of medieval Christendom was found in the theocratic nation of
Israel. The Israelite “church” provided the paradigm for the structure and
composition of the covenant people, and this association led to the
corollary doctrine of the continuity of the covenant. If Israel and the
Church are distinguished primarily by their existence in separate
“economies,” it follows that the same is true of their covenants.
The continuity of the “people of God” implies the continuity of their
respective covenants. What this means is that the Law of Moses – Israel’s
covenant – must somehow continue in its essential nature to define and
govern the New Testament covenant community. At the same time, the
basic continuity of the Law must accommodate the fact of christological
fulfillment that is central to the New Testament message. Calvin and the
Reformers after him found the answer in the idea of the tripartite structure
of the Mosaic Law first proposed by Thomas Aquinas.
By partitioning the Old Covenant into three categories, the Reformers
were able to uphold the doctrine of the continuity of the covenant on the
one hand while recognizing covenantal fulfillment in Christ on the other.
The New Testament demands the latter, but the Reformers’ way of
defending their sacral ecclesiology drove them to also embrace the former.
Because God’s people have always been determined by covenant, the
essential “sameness” of the covenant community – Israel and the Church –
points to the “sameness” of the covenant by which that community is
defined, established and governed. Without the essence of the Mosaic
Covenant enduring into the age of fulfillment, it was impossible to use
theocratic Israel as the paradigm for the New Testament Church.
The tripartite conception of the Old Covenant was the answer to this
dilemma. Recognizing a general pattern in the individual ordinances and
commandments of the Mosaic Law, the Reformers adopted the categories
of moral, ceremonial and civil laws. This structure was later codified in
Reformed doctrinal formulations, notably the Westminster Standards.
1)
In this conception, the covenant’s civil (judicial) laws pertained
uniquely to Israel’s historical situation and salvation-historical
role. Like Israel itself, these laws were pedagogical; even as Israel
has found its fulfillment in Christ, so have the laws that
distinguished them from the surrounding nations. It is precisely
because Israel’s dietary laws served a preparatory purpose that
Jesus could declare all foods clean (Mark 7:17-19; cf. Romans
14:14-20; Colossians 2:20-21; 1 Timothy 4:1-5) without bringing
the covenant itself into jeopardy. Israel’s civil laws may set forth
enduring principles, but the laws themselves are no longer binding.
237
2)
So also Christ has fulfilled the covenant’s ceremonial laws. These
ordinances referenced Israel’s status as a theocratic, priestly nation
and pertained especially to the particulars of the Levitical cultus
and its oversight and administration of the nation’s relationship
with God. The ceremonial laws included the various sacrificial
rituals and designations of holy days and other ceremonies.
3)
The final component of the Law of Moses is its moral law. This is
the part of the Old Covenant that Covenant Theology regards as
the enduring essence of the one “covenant of grace.” The
reasoning behind this is that the “moral law” expresses the holy
character of God Himself, and is therefore unalterable and
independent of time, circumstance, and covenantal administrations.
And being the articulation of God’s own nature, the “moral law”
also expresses His just demand upon His image-bearers.
The so-called “moral law” – associated most closely with the
Decalogue – was the heart of the Israelite administration of this
one covenant, and so it is with the new covenant administration.
The moral law is as binding upon the members of the New
Covenant Church as it was the Old Covenant “church.” At the
same time, the notion of a composite covenant community finds
the moral law playing a different role with different members:
In both the Old Testament and New Testament “churches,” the
moral law is said to play a restraining and pedagogical role in the
lives of the unregenerate members of the covenant community. In
simple terms, it acts to convict them of their sin and, in that way,
lead them to Christ. In the case of Israel, it led them to Christ in
promise through the various symbols and ceremonies; in the case
of the New Testament Church, it leads them to Christ Himself.
For those who are regenerate within the covenant community, the
moral law acts as an instructor and motivator toward growth in
godliness. This is what Calvin meant by his “third use” of the Law.
While in Reformed Theology the law has no value for justification
– it has the power to inform and convict but not save, it is
fundamental and crucial to the process of sanctification.
The tripartite conception of the Law of Moses allowed the Reformers to
grant the Law’s fulfillment in Christ while at the same time maintain its
continuing authority over the covenant community. Again, finding
continuity in the covenant (Law of Moses) was necessitated by the
Reformers’ determination to use Israel to justify their commitment to the
sacral Church. But that doctrine of continuity also needed to be reconciled
with the New Testament’s proclamation that Christ has fulfilled the Law.
238
To the Reformers and their theological descendents, the idea of fulfillment
with respect to the Law of Moses came to be regarded as establishment:
Jesus “fulfilled” the Law in the sense that, having rescued it from
centuries of rabbinical interpretive distortions, He reiterated the moral law
to His generation in its original purity and re-certified its binding authority
upon all men – most especially the household of faith.
Though useful, appealing, and seemingly biblical, the tripartite solution to
the challenging matter of the Church’s relationship to law is problematic.
-
First of all, this formulation of the Law of Moses is an artificial
construct: Neither the Old nor the New Testament suggests such a
partitioning of the Mosaic Code. Moreover, a careful reading of the
Scripture doesn’t indicate the passing of certain parts of the Law
while others are preserved unaltered. The Mosaic Covenant as
such was binding on Israel (cf. Leviticus 26:13-15; Numbers
15:37-41); so also, it has, in its totality, found its fulfillment (and
its passing) in Christ (cf. Galatians 3:10-14; Hebrews 8:6-13).
-
Second, while particular commandments and ordinances of the
Law of Moses may have had a civil, ceremonial or ethical
framework or emphasis, every component of it was moral. To
argue for a distinct “moral” segment of the Law is to argue that the
civil and ceremonial portions were amoral. And if they were
amoral, then they were arbitrary and capricious – merely rules that
lacked an essential ethical or moral principle. Beyond that, amoral
laws implicate God’s own integrity and righteousness; what sort of
God is pleased to impose arbitrary rules upon His people?
But the truth is that every individual component of Israel’s
covenant was inherently and thoroughly moral. This is evident
simply in the fact that the Law defined and prescribed Israel’s
relationship with God as a son to a father: The relationship
between divine Father and image-son is necessarily moral in every
component and dimension because of the divine nature itself and
its presence in the image-bearer. The comprehensive morality of
the Law of Moses is equally evident in the consideration of its
particulars. As, for instance, the Law’s seemingly arbitrary dietary
and dress codes spoke of the morality of Israel’s consecration and
devotion to God, so the ceremonial laws were preeminently moral.
Not only did they administer Israel’s relationship with God, they
addressed the ongoing problem of the covenant son’s violation and
unfaithfulness. What could be more “moral” than that?
For its part, the Scripture does indeed uphold the enduring relevance of
“law,” not by partitioning it, but by understanding its fulfillment in Christ.
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Like circumcision, covenant “law” continues to play a role in identifying
the people of God in the age of fulfillment. But also like circumcision as
the sign of the covenant, the law accomplishes this role in the context of
its spiritual transformation in Christ.
-
The place to begin is by recognizing that the Law of Moses was
simply the covenant that formally defined, established and
governed Israel’s relationship with God. The Law showed Israel
what it means to be “son of God,” and in this way it looked beyond
the covenant nation to the entire human race. Man was created in
the divine image as the “son of God” (Luke 3:38), but his
estrangement had resulted in his loss of self-identity. The Law
served to bring to light the truth of human identity and function.
-
Because the Law addressed Israel’s relationship with God, it was
concerned in its totality as well as its particulars with the human
obligation of love (Deuteronomy 6:1-9). The Jews of Jesus’ day
understood this (Matthew 22:35-40; cf. Mark 12:28-34), although
they were incapable of fulfilling the Law’s demand of love. In their
estranged condition, human beings are unable to love (1 John 4:7),
but the isolation of estrangement also insures that they will seek
righteousness in themselves. Thus the Jews reduced the Law’s
comprehensive demand of love into a list of commandments and
ordinances that could be fulfilled by mechanistic observance.
Recognizing what the Law of Moses was and how it functioned in
salvation history is foundational to understanding how Christ fulfilled it.
-
Jesus didn’t fulfill the Law by flawlessly executing all of its
particulars, but by being the person – the “Israel” – that the Law
defined and demanded. Though it pertained specifically to the
Israelite nation, the covenant between Yahweh and Israel provided
a thorough portrait of man when he exists according to his created
nature and design as “son of God.” Jesus fulfilled the Law not only
by being the promised Abrahamic Seed – true Israel, but by being
true Man. He fulfilled the covenant between Father and son by
living a life of unqualified and uncorrupted love.
-
If Israel’s righteousness consisted in its perfect conformity to
divine “law,” that conformity was to be realized in perfect love,
not meticulous observance of commandment and ordinance. This
explains how Paul could be blameless under the Law and yet a
blasphemer (Philippians 3:1-6; 1 Timothy 1:12-13). It explains
how God could condemn Israel despite its scrupulous observance
of the Law’s prescriptions (cf. Isaiah 1:1-17, 29:1-14, 66:1-3; also
Psalm 50:7-15, 51:14-17; Amos 6:18-27; Micah 6:6-8; etc.).
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-
The Law communicated to Israel the truth of what man is and what
his nature and design demand of him. Therefore, “righteousness
under law” consists in a person’s flawless conformity to his created
nature and function; righteousness is rightness, and, for man, this
is a life defined in every respect by the perfection of love.
This is why Paul insisted that righteousness cannot come by human
conformity to law. In their estranged condition, people cannot love; they
can only comply with behavioral demands, and then only as a means of
fostering their innate sense of self-righteousness. Being true God and true
Man, only Jesus could fulfill the law and its righteousness. The corollary
of this truth is that the answer to human “lawlessness” isn’t greater
knowledge or resolve; neither is it for men to draw upon Jesus’ godly
example or even spiritual “resource” that can be derived from Him. The
answer to human violation of divine “law” is personal, ontological
union with the One who is Himself the fulfillment of that law. It is to
“become the righteousness of God in Him” (ref. 2 Corinthians 5:17-21).
Just as spiritual circumcision marks out Abraham’s true covenant
offspring, so does their conformity to law as “spiritualized” in Christ. The
Law of Moses was concerned with ontological and relational realities
associated with the nature and role of man as image-son. “Lawlessness” is
simply the expression of human estrangement, so that true conformity to
law begins with reconciliation to God through personal union with Christ.
In the context of fulfillment, the Law’s foundational demand is faith in
Jesus Christ (cf. John 6:27-29 with Acts 17:29-31 and 1 John 3:21-23).
But having believed in Him, the Christian has been indwelled by the Spirit
of Christ who is now transforming him into the likeness of the true Man.
The Christian has fulfilled the Law simply by being joined to the One who
is its fulfillment. The Law demands that men fulfill the “righteousness” of
their created identity as image-sons, and they meet this demand through
union with the image-Son (Colossians 2:8-10; cf. Romans 8:1-4).
But the very fact that the “people of God” are now defined by ontological
union with Christ – who is the Man that the Law defined and prescribed –
implies their personal, ongoing relationship with law. If divine law
expresses the nature and function of man as man, then the Christian’s new
existence as “new man” in the true Man is his existence in conformity to
law. This is true in principle, but also in practice. To the extent that a
person lives in accordance with his new identity in Christ, his practice
does represent fulfillment of God’s law. And so, whether in his status or
practice, the Christian’s continuing relationship with law – just as his
circumcision – is in Christ. In the age of fulfillment and the new creation
that has come in the Last Adam, the singular definition of God’s people is
that they are “in the Beloved” (Ephesians 1:3-12; 1 Peter 2:4-10).
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2.
The New Humanity and the Structure of God’s Covenant Household
The Scripture reveals a foundational continuity in the people of God moving into the age
of fulfillment in Christ. Like the covenant nation of Israel, the New Covenant community
is determined by possession of the covenant sign of circumcision and personal
participation in and ownership of the covenant itself. But what was temporal and external
for Israel – being prophetic and pedagogical – is now entirely spiritual by virtue of its
transformation in Christ. Indeed, every aspect of the covenant community’s identity has
found its terminus, fulfillment and life in the Seed of the Woman. The sole criterion for
participation in God’s covenant household is participation in Christ.
The preceding consideration of the identity of the “people of God” focused more on its
individual constituent members. It sought to answer the question of who is a part of that
people. But the individualism associated with God’s household is secondary to its
corporate nature and function; the covenant community is just that – a community.
a.
The Church as Corporate Sanctuary
In the context of the present study of sacred space, the realization of God’s
dwelling place has found its preeminent expression in Jesus Christ Himself; in
Him the fullness of deity dwells bodily (Colossians 2:9; cf. John 1:14). The
import of Paul’s words is that divine fullness resides in the man, Jesus of
Nazareth, the seed of Eve: The fulfillment of sacred space has an anthropological
focal point in the man, Christ Jesus, but He is not merely man, but a new Adam.
Thus the anthropological focus of sacred space extends through Jesus to the
human race as it finds its spiritual origin, descent, and destiny in Him.
This understanding is consistent with the individualism of the people of God:
Everyone – Jew or Gentile – who is joined to Christ is a covenant descendent of
Abraham and heir of the promises made to him. Participation in the covenant isn’t
a matter of family or community relation, but personal faith and individual
renewal by the Spirit (cf. Romans 4:1-24; Galatians 3:1-9, 23-29). But, though the
Scripture emphasizes the foundational individualism of covenant membership, it
equally insists that the individual believer enters into and finds his existence and
life within a community. God’s goal in the realization of sacred space isn’t the
salvation of multitudes of individuals, but the formation of a corporate sanctuary.
Thus Peter spoke of individual people becoming “living stones” through faith in
the Living Stone that is Jesus Christ. But He is the “chief cornerstone,” meaning
that He is the foundation and orienting point for a structure built upon Him. Men
become “living stones,” not in order to remain individual entities lying on the
ground alone, but to be built together into a spiritual house (1 Peter 2:4-6).
The personal “christification” of God’s fulfilled covenant people – the true sons
of Abraham – serves the goal of His formation of a christified community.
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The Scriptures know nothing of an individual Christianity; to be a Christian is to
be part of the household of faith. Paul’s theology of the Church exactly paralleled
Peter’s: God’s regeneration and bestowal of His Spirit to individual persons
(Ephesians 1:13-14) serves His goal of building a holy temple for Himself – a
corporate eschatological and everlasting dwelling (Ephesians 2:19-22). While
individuals are God’s temple by virtue of His indwelling Spirit (1 Corinthians
6:15-20; cf. Romans 8:9-10), that reality has its meaning in an ecclesial sanctuary.
In this respect, too, the covenant household manifests promise/fulfillment
continuity. Yahweh’s presence in Israel was manifested in His glory-cloud in the
Holy of Holies, but He also spoke of His Spirit dwelling in the midst of the
community (Isaiah 63:7-14; Haggai 2:5). God’s presence was localized in a
physical structure, but the point of that tangible symbolism was that Israel itself
was, in a spiritual sense, Yahweh’s sanctuary (cf. Exodus 25:1-8, 29:38-46); the
living Father was present with His beloved son. In the age of promise and
preparation, the issue for the covenant household wasn’t personal indwelling, but
corporate presence. Israel was a corporate entity: It was collectively the “son of
God” and Yahweh dealt with His covenant son in corporate fashion.
-
When individuals sinned and broke the covenant, the whole nation
suffered: The unbelief of a portion caused the whole covenant household
to wander in judgment for forty years (Numbers 14:1-35); Achan’s sin at
Ai brought the defeat of the nation and the death of individuals who had
no part in his disobedience (Joshua 7:1-5); so the faithful remnant of Israel
and Judah suffered desolation and exile with the rest of their countrymen.
-
Conversely, the whole nation enjoyed God’s favor though multitudes of
individuals in every generation disregarded and even opposed Him (cf.
Psalm 78; Hosea 2:1-8; Jeremiah 31:31-32). Not individual Israelites, but
the covenant household constituted Yahweh’s chosen and beloved son.
Now, in the “fullness of the times,” fulfillment has brought the discontinuity of
individual indwelling. Yahweh isn’t simply among His people; He indwells them
personally and permanently. But the fundamental continuity of the covenant
community remains: As it was with Israel, so also in the New Covenant Church
the “people of God” is a communal idea. Personal indwelling finds its meaning
and relevance in corporate indwelling. Living stones realize their purpose in
God’s spiritual sanctuary built upon the chief cornerstone (ref. Zechariah 4:1-10).
b.
The Church as the Body of Christ
Individual participation in Christ looks to corporate membership in Him, and this
concept is most pronounced and most developed in Paul’s imagery of the Church
as Christ’s body. The metaphor of an organism is eminently suited to describe the
Church in relation to Christ, for it accurately expresses the relationship between
the Church’s individual and corporate aspects.
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-
Like a living organism (a “body”), the Church is comprised of individual
members. The human body isn’t an amorphous mass or homogeneous
substance, but an amalgamation of discrete and differing parts. So it is
with the Church: It is composed of many members, each of whom is
entirely unique yet individually vital to the make-up of the body.
-
At the same time, the members together form a unified, synergistic whole.
While an organism’s individual parts are identifiable, they are always
identified and understood in relation to the whole. A person’s eye is a
discrete organ that can be isolated for examination and analysis, but no
one considers that organ in an individualistic sense. In form as well as
function, the “meaning” of a particular part is relative to the whole.
This is how it is with the Church. It is composed of numerous members
that can be individually identified and considered. And yet their individual
significance and role as Christians are bound up in the organism of the
Church. The implication ought to be obvious: It is impossible for believers
to fully grasp their individual identity and function except as they are
considered in relation to the corporate body.
Considered and treated in isolation as individuals, Christians are
ultimately unintelligible – to themselves as much as to others.
This can be illustrated by a person who stumbles upon an individual tiny
bone in a field and attempts to identify and understand it apart from any
reference to the organism of which it was a part. Even if the examiner
were able to determine that he was holding a bone, he could go no further
in his understanding without identifying the creature it had come from.
So Paul addressed himself to the Church at Corinth: As it is with the human body,
so it is with Christ. Though His “body” is composed of many individual members
– each of which is unique in its identity and role, the many are together
constituted one spiritual organism having Him as its Head (ref. 1 Corinthians
12:12-14; cf. Ephesians 4:14-16; Colossians 2:18-19). Most importantly, Paul
understood the dynamic of individuality/community in the Church in terms of the
presence and work of the Holy Spirit.
-
It is the indwelling presence of the Spirit that makes a person part of
Christ’s body. Moreover, the first work of Christ’s Spirit is to join the
individual human being to Christ Himself (Romans 8:9-10); there is no
such thing as a body part that isn’t vitally connected to the Head.
-
But by joining a person to Christ, the Spirit also joins him to every other
person who is “in Christ.” The Spirit creates the organism of the Church in
Himself (cf. 1 Corinthians 12:1-14; Ephesians 4:1-6), but, in that He has
become the Spirit of Christ, that organism is Christ’s “body.”
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The centrality of the Spirit in the constitution of Christ’s body highlights a few
crucial features of the Church and its order and function:
1)
The first is that, as the Church is constituted by the renewing power and
indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit, it has no ground or aspect of unity
that isn’t purely spiritual and christological. This is a radical notion that is
lost on perhaps the majority of professing Christians.
The reason is that no human organization, order, or institution follows this
paradigm. Regardless of culture or historical context, every instance
and expression of human social order has its organizing and unifying
features in earthly considerations. This is as true of religious institutions
as secular ones. The need for human beings to organize around tangible,
temporal realities is innate, and explains why all religion in the history of
the world has been sacral. (Sacralism is a social system in which a
society’s religious and civil/cultural identities are co-extensive; it is when
a given people are defined by a common religion as well as a shared social
structure). The power and intractability of mankind’s sacral mindset is
evident in the fact that, a mere four centuries into its existence, the
Christian faith had already been brought under its sway and transformed
by it. Corpus Christi – the body of Christ – had been rendered Corpus
Christianum – the body of christened society, or “Christendom.” This
sacral conception of the Church would endure through and beyond the
Reformation, being manifest in certain societies to this day.
But the Church revealed in the New Testament is overtly anti-sacral: It
consists, not of all the members of the community (albeit conjoined by
sacrament), but all those – and only those – joined to Christ by His Spirit.
There is only one point of commonality in the fulfilled people of God, and
that is participation in the new creation effected and perfected by Christ’s
Spirit. Unlike every other religious community in the history of the world
(including Old Testament Israel), membership in Christ’s body involves
no temporal or ritual/sacramental markers or demands. His body isn’t
delineated by common culture, language, geography, or any other social,
religious, physical, or personal considerations; it is solely determined by
one Spirit, one faith, one spiritual baptism into Christ, one God and Father.
Given the powerful human inclination toward sacral religion, it’s not at all
surprising that this mindset continues to dominate the Christian landscape.
It operates even among those who reject the Reformed notion of a
composite Church identified by the sign of water baptism. Baptists, too,
innately tend to define the members of Christ’s body in terms of temporal,
tangible commonalities. They can include “spiritual” things like “walking
the aisle” and common doctrine and religious practice, but extend even to
such matters as shared dress and lifestyle patterns. One need only consider
the homogeneous composition of most churches to prove the point.
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2)
But if the Church is an entirely spiritual organism that has its identity and
life in the vital union of its members with Christ by His Spirit, it follows
that the function of Christ’s body is equally spiritual. This truth, too, has
far too often been lost upon the Church, as many influences, both
historical and cultural, have served through the centuries to mislead and
distract it from its ordained function.
The sacralizing of the Church led it to confuse its role with that of the
State. This transformation saw the emergence of the “Holy Roman
Empire” and the Church increasingly taking to itself ruling authority. The
medieval doctrine of the two swords was the Church’s purported biblical
vindication of its insistence that the civil ruler’s role in society was to
enforce its ultimate authority. The king might be the earthly sovereign, but
even kings have souls, and the Church possesses the “power of the keys.”
The Reformation brought certain changes in the Church’s conception of its
role, but the Reformers’ determination to retain the sacral ecclesiology of
medieval Christendom insured continuing confusion and error. Not
surprisingly, European Protestants continued to view the Church as
playing a vital role in the State’s affairs, and vice versa. Calvin’s Geneva,
Zwingli’s Zurich, and Puritan England all prove the point.
Ascribing to itself authority over the social order, it was inevitable that the
Church would also interject itself into academic and scientific inquiry and
understanding. The medieval Church had ruled by the tools of ignorance,
superstition and intimidation, and it set itself against everything that would
liberate men’s minds and souls from its totalitarian control. Under the
guise of honoring God, the Church became the enemy of science, creating
an uncomfortable relationship between them that endures to this day.
Later, the Enlightenment saw the rise of theological liberalism and the
“social gospel” which regards the Church’s primary role as that of social
reformer. In this view, the Church is called to remedy suffering and
injustice and improve the lot of men and societies. In the modern era that
notion has manifested itself in “liberation theology” which enjoys various
expressions related to Marxism, Afro-centrism, and even feminism (as
liberation from patriarchy). All of these things are further examples of the
failure of the Church to rightly recognize the crucial distinction between
the spiritual kingdom of God and the natural city of Man.
The same confusion continues in American Evangelicalism. One evidence
of this is the fact that certain segments of it have effectively reduced
Christ’s Church to a political action committee. Having lost sight of their
spiritual mandate to proclaim the gospel and call men to renewal and
reconciliation in Christ, many Evangelicals give their energies to fighting
social and cultural battles with natural devices and resources.
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3)
At the same time, the very fact that the Church’s function and role are
spiritual indicates that it is not to live its life in isolation from the temporal
world. Misconception of the Church’s role has led it to intrude into and
even usurp the divinely established jurisdiction of the State (ref. Matthew
22:15-21), but it has equally led to the Church’s isolation from the world.
Monasticism, cultism, and sectarianism are all expressions of a perverse
understanding of Christian separation and consecration.
The most obvious proof that Christ hasn’t called His Church to retract
from the world is the fact that it exists in the world. The Father doesn’t
snatch His children into heaven at the moment of their regeneration, and
Jesus was unequivocal that, though His disciples are no longer of the
world, they are present in it (cf. John 15:18-19, 17:11-14). Indeed, they
must be present and active in the world because of their spiritual mission:
Jesus didn’t merely leave His disciples in the world; He sent them into the
world to bear witness of Him (cf. John 17:15-20 with 15:26-27).
The Church is the fulfilled “people of God” – the consummate Abrahamic
community that shares in Abraham’s covenant inheritance. And at the
heart of Abrahamic identity and calling is the singular privilege of
mediating Yahweh’s blessing to all the earth’s families.
-
As the corporate covenant seed of Abraham, Israel was called to
fulfill this mission in the world but it failed. Its failure brought the
Abrahamic promise – and therefore God’s Edenic oath – into
jeopardy, but the Lord promised another “Israel” who would fulfill
this crucial calling.
-
This Seed of Abraham – the faithful Servant of Yahweh – would
secure the promise of global (and creational) blessing by His own
self-offering (Isaiah 49-53; esp. 52:13-15, 53:10-12). In view of
the Servant’s work, Zion (as Yahweh’s sanctuary) was to expand
her dwelling to accommodate all her new children (Isaiah 54:1ff),
and these children – themselves servants of Yahweh (54:17) and
sons of Abraham – were to carry out, by their own proclamation
and personal devotion, the Abrahamic promise of worldwide
restoration to God (Isaiah 55; cf. Matthew 28:18-20; Acts 1:6-8).
Thus, as much as the confusion of Church and State is a grievous error that
undermines the Church’s accurate self-disclosure to men and the fulfillment of its
ordained role, isolationism is just as bad, if not worse. The fulfilled people of God
are the heirs of Abraham’s gospel and calling (Galatians 3:7-9), and Yahweh’s
design to bring the knowledge of Himself to all the nations demands that His
people carry Him – by His gospel in the power of His indwelling Spirit – into all
the world. Salt is a substance distinct from the meat it interacts with, but it fulfills
its “savoring” purpose only by intimately permeating it (ref. Matthew 5:13-16).
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3.
The New Humanity and the Life of God’s Covenant Household
God’s goal in the salvation of individual people is the formation of His own eternallyforeordained, everlasting sanctuary. It is true that Christians are individually God’s
dwelling, but only in order that together they should become the consummate temple of
the triune God: Through ontological union with Christ, the Last Adam, Christians are
being built into the dwelling of God in the Spirit.
If the essential nature and structure of the fulfilled “people of God” are corporate and
communal, then the life and function of that people are grounded in those same realities.
Form follows function, so that the communal form of the covenant household implies
God’s design that it should serve a communal function and operate in a communal
manner and orientation.
This is exactly what the New Testament reveals: The communal nature and structure of
Christ’s Body serve the cause of that Body, first in terms of its well-being and secondly in
terms of its growth and maturation. At first glance this may appear problematic in that it
seems to assign to men the continuance and progress of God’s Church.
-
Didn’t the Lord Himself say that He would build His Church (Matthew 16:18),
and didn’t Paul assign to the working of Christ’s Spirit the life and progress of the
Body (2 Corinthians 3:12-18)?
-
The New Testament is unequivocal that the covenant community depends upon
the presence and power of Christ’s Spirit for its life, well-being, and
advancement, but Paul, in particular, insisted that the Body causes the growth of
the Body (Ephesians 4:15-16).
These apparently disparate truths are reconciled by understanding that the Spirit does
His work in and through the members of the Church as the corporate Body and collective
sanctuary. The Spirit of God is the effectual agent in building God’s dwelling, but He
doesn’t work in a vacuum; He expresses His power and will and accomplishes His
purpose through the earthen vessels into which He has been poured (cf. Acts 2:14-33;
Romans 5:1-5; Titus 3:4-6). Though easy to overlook, the implication is clear:
If it is a serious error for the Christian to consider his identity in Christ in
individualistic terms – and it is, it is more so for him to regard his Christian life and
function in that way.
Set before them in this way, few believers would argue against the truth of this assertion,
and yet perhaps the majority of them deny it practically by the way they actually order
and conduct their lives in relation to the Christian community.
-
Multitudes of professing Christians have no connection at all with Christ’s
Church, while many others have a merely physical association with it. They might
“attend services,” but they keep themselves and their lives detached from it.
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-
For many others whose lives are strongly committed to the local church, their
relationship with it is largely, if not entirely, self-concerned and self-serving. The
widely touted and embraced church-growth movement is founded upon the
proven principle that discovering and meeting people’s “felt needs” will produce
numerical growth. Whether a more comfortable environment, personally relevant
messages, enjoyable music, “womb-to-tomb” programs, or the promise of a
happier and more successful life, churches have found that giving people what
they want insures success.
-
Even among congregations that reject church-growth philosophy and methods, the
tendency is still to perceive and order church life according to the principle of
individualism. Churches are careful to posture themselves and their ministries in
ways calculated to minimize discontentment, and they do so precisely because
they realize that most Christians’ commitment to a local body goes no further than
their own self-interest and personal agenda. Churches know all too well that a
disgruntled congregant is as good as gone.
The dynamics of self-interest are so endemic in the Body of Christ that many Christians
don’t even take notice of it; they aren’t at all surprised to find in the Church what defines
the world. Others find it concerning, but resign themselves that this is simply “the way
things are.” For its part, church-growth philosophy effectively exalts and celebrates
individualism and self-interest, finding in them a useful tool for numerical growth.
This is a startling state of affairs in view of the fact that the Scripture knows nothing
about such a conception of the life and practice of Christ’s Church. In fact, the New
Testament openly repudiates it. The contemporary Church has largely adopted a radically
unbiblical paradigm for itself and it is bearing an abundance of rotten fruit as a
consequence. Again, personal, ontological union with Christ by His indwelling Spirit (not
individual conviction or preference, commitment to an organization, doctrinal
perspective, or sacramental participation) is the sole determiner of who is a Christian, and
this vital union results in the Christian’s union with all other believers. The Church is the
living spiritual organism comprised of all those – and only those – who share in Christ’s
life by His Spirit, and its spiritual identity determines and defines its spiritual function.
The Scripture shows that function to be two-fold, with both components being related to
God’s ultimate goal of transforming the whole creation into sacred space. The first
concerns the Church’s responsibility to itself; the second concerns its responsibility to the
world. It is primarily with regard to the former that the matter of spiritual gifts comes to
the forefront.
a.
Spiritual Gifts
The first and primary role of the Church is the well-being and growth of the Body
itself. This is the matter of edification, and the Spirit has provided for it by
bestowing spiritual gifts to the members of the Body. A few key observations are
important to make in this regard:
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1)
The first is that spiritual gifts, like the makeup and function of the Church
itself as the Body of Christ, have individual and corporate aspects.
Individual salvation and indwelling serve the cause of corporate
indwelling (the Church as God’s sanctuary), and so it is with the Spirit’s
bestowal of gifts to His people: Every individual Christian is given
spiritual gifts, but these aren’t for his own good; they are for the “common
good.” Spiritual gifts represent the Spirit’s power in the Church for
maintaining and advancing its corporate well-being as it “grows up in all
things into Him who is the Head” (Ephesians 4:1-6; cf. Romans 12:3-8;
1 Corinthians 12:1-25, 14:1-26).
2)
Thus spiritual gifts are endowments ordained and designed to edify
Christ’s Body. As such, they represent spheres of gifting rather than
discrete gifts. Examples include the gifts of service, helps, and
administrations. Even where they are more specific, such as teaching and
exhortation, spiritual gifts are still broad in their scope and application.
Despite the Scripture’s presentation of spiritual gifts as generalized
categories, Christians tend to conceive of them very narrowly (one cause
of this is spiritual gifts “tests”), resulting in various negative outcomes:
3)
-
Believing that spiritual gifts can be precisely catalogued, many
Christians find themselves unable to discover their own gifting.
-
For others, their sense of a specific gifting leads them to take stock
of the local assembly of which they’re a part and conclude that it
has no need or opportunity for the use of their gift.
-
Still others use a narrow conception of spiritual gifts as an excuse
to not serve the Body. God would have them to use their gift, and
they will do so when the need for that particular gift presents itself.
(“I can’t serve in the nursery because it’s not my spiritual gift.”)
The problem is compounded when Christians think of “ministry” in terms
of formally sanctioned programs. Recognizing that spiritual gifts are to be
used in ministry, many believe that means giving themselves to officially
defined and prescribed areas of service. A common complaint in churches
is that there are no places for people to use their gifts. It rarely occurs to
such individuals that the Spirit bestowed spiritual gifts for edifying the
Body long before there were church programs and designated “ministries.”
The remedy for these things is to understand that spiritual gifts consist of broad
arenas of gifting devised and allocated by the Spirit to serve the spiritual
“upbuilding” of the local assembly of believers. Christian ministry exists
wherever Christians exist, and the only thing required for believers to use their
gifts is their authentic connection with and concern for their Christian brethren.
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Whatever their nature and specific orientation, all spiritual gifts without exception
serve the cause of mutual edification in the Church – “each is given the
manifestation of the Spirit for the common good” (1 Corinthians 12:7). In this
sense, they are given to the Church, not the individual.
-
The fact that spiritual gifts are given for the good of the Body is another
evidence of the fallacy of individualistic Christianity. Autonomy and
individualism in the Church not only preclude the use of the Spirit’s gifts,
they effectively amount to a denial that such gifts even exist. It is an
absurdity for a Christian to think of his spiritual gifting except as he
conceives himself as a vital, intimate member of Christ’s Body.
-
And so, however sincere and close a person’s connection with a local
church, unless he is purposefully ministering his gifts to that body of
believers, he is “grieving the Spirit,” robbing the saints of that which he
rightfully owes them, and denying his own identity and calling. The
Christian who doesn’t minister in Christ’s Body is living a lie.
Even as the members of a living organism function naturally for the well-being of
the entire organism, so also the members of Christ’s Body are to labor through the
instrumentality of the gifts for the good of the whole. Conversely, as the failure of
one part of an organism brings significant (sometimes fatal) detriment to the
organism itself, so the wrongful use of gifts – or the neglect of their use altogether
– causes Christ’s Body to suffer loss and languish in infirmity (12:15-26).
b.
Faith Working Through Love
It is precisely because spiritual gifts serve the good of the Body that the greatest
chapter on Christian love stands at the center of Paul’s instruction regarding them
(ref. 13:1-13). All Christian interaction is to have its conscious, express goal in
the edification of the other party, and that means it must be directed by love
(Romans 15:2; 1 Corinthians 10:23-24; Ephesians 4:29). The reason is that love
always seeks the true and highest good of its object; for a human being, the truest
good is his conformity to Christ (Colossians 1:28-29; cf. Philippians 3:1-14).
-
The purpose for spiritual gifts is the edification of the saints, but there is
no authentic “upbuilding” except where love is present and operative.
Indeed, Paul’s point in this chapter is that all spiritual activity and
accomplishment – no matter how spiritual, sacrificial, exhaustive or
praiseworthy – is empty and useless apart from love.
-
Thus, in discussing the matter of spiritual gifts and their operation in the
Church, Paul saw “greatness” in relation to those gifts as residing not in a
particular gift as such, but in the way in which it is understood and
applied. Regardless of a gift’s apparent grandness and notability, love is
what makes it excellent and effectual (12:27-31; cf. Ephesians 4:11-16).
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-
The supremacy of love in Paul’s argumentation reaches beyond spiritual
gifts to embrace every aspect of the life of the Church. Whether the place
of women in the public assembly (11:1-16), the ministry of the gospel
(9:1-23), the administration of the sacraments (11:17-34), the exercise of
corporate discipline (5:1-6:20), or personal fellowship between individuals
(8:1-13), Paul was adamant that they all must proceed upon and be
directed by biblical love. Only then will all things be done “properly and
in an orderly manner” for the edification of the Church (14:1-40).
The crucial necessity of love in all things lies behind Paul’s declaration in
Galatians that the only thing that matters in the Christian experience is “faith
working through love” (ref. Galatians 5:1-7). This brief statement effectively
summarizes Paul’s extended argumentation concerning love in 1 Corinthians 13,
but it also serves to develop it.
Most notable is the fact that Paul here speaks of authentic love as the effusion of
faith; love is the way in which faith properly expresses itself. In and of itself,
Paul’s statement doesn’t rule out the possibility that love can exist apart from
faith, but his larger theology makes the case that faith in Christ and love are
inextricably joined together (cf. Romans 8:28, 13:8-10 with 3:19-20; also
Galatians 5:19-25). Beyond Paul’s instruction, faith as the necessary ground of
love is affirmed by Jesus’ teaching regarding the counterfeit quality of “natural”
love (Matthew 5:43-48) and John’s insistence that only those born of God – those
who possess the faith of regeneration – are able to love (1 John 4:7; cf. 4:19).
Love not only is grounded in faith, it is the work of faith. Love is what faith does
– not coincidentally or properly, but according to its very nature. The implication
is that, just as there is no love in the absence of faith, there is no faith in the
absence of love. Love is the life of faith; where love doesn’t exist, faith is dead.
This is true first and foremost in relation to God, and gets to the heart of James’
assertion regarding the vital connection between faith and works (2:1-26). Faith in
Christ is antithetical to the partiality of “natural wisdom” precisely because such
favoritism reflects the absence of love (ref. 2:1-9). True faith “works” in love. So
Abraham’s faith expressed itself in the “work” of his love for God in the offering
of Isaac; he trusted God’s veracity in spite of what seemed to argue against it.
Faith expresses itself in love for God, but this extends outward in love for people.
Thus Rahab demonstrated her faith by her “work” in preserving God’s spies from
death (2:25). Her devoted faith in God provoked an act of love for His servants
(1 John 2:7-11, 3:10-24, 4:16-5:1; cf. Galatians 6:9-10; 1 Thessalonians 3:11-13).
In the new creation in Christ, all that matters is “faith working through love” (cf.
Galatians 5:6 with 6:15). So it must be with spiritual gifts: They, too, must express the
working of love as it flows from those who believe God. Trusting Him for the progress
and perfection of His true sanctuary, the faithful labor in His Spirit toward that end.
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4.
Case Study – The Corinthian Church and the Lord’s Table
Paul’s instruction to the Corinthians regarding spiritual gifts and the crucial centrality of
love wasn’t accidental or routine. He wasn’t simply reiterating to them a generic doctrine
he taught all the churches; his instruction regarding these issues was specific and
pointedly directed toward a troublesome pattern in the Corinthian church. This is not to
say that no other congregation experienced any of the same problems, but in the case of
the church at Corinth, the troubles reflected a prevalent mindset that had corrupted the
general life and practice of that body of believers.
The underlying problem at Corinth was “natural-mindedness.” The believers there
continued to look at themselves, one another, the Christian life and the function of the
Church through the thinking paradigm of the “old man” rather than the mind of Christ.
-
This is evident first in Paul’s conspicuously recurrent use of the expression Lord
Jesus Christ in the opening section of his first letter to the Corinthians. He
employed it five times in the first ten verses alone (1:2, 3, 7, 8, 10); more than in
the totality of several of his other epistles. This expression encompasses the
breadth of Jesus’ identity and significance and Paul intended it to confront and
inform the defective thinking at the base of the problems at Corinth:
He reminded the Corinthians of who they were – those who had called upon the
name of the Lord Jesus Christ, been set apart in Him and brought into fellowship
with Him; what they had received – they had been given every spiritual
endowment and privilege through their union with Him; and how they were to live
– having been gifted and empowered, they were now to direct their lives with a
conscious view toward the future glorious appearing of the Lord Jesus Christ.
-
The natural thinking paradigm of the Corinthians is evident secondly in the issues
Paul addressed with them. Their failure to understand who they were and what
they were called to by virtue of what Christ had accomplished and inaugurated
was demonstrated in the way they aligned themselves under different spiritual
leaders (1:10-17), how they viewed wisdom and power in the Church (1:18-2:16),
the way they regarded and distinguished certain of God’s ministers (3:1-23) and
themselves as a congregation (4:1-21), and the manner in which they related to
one another as fellow members of the household of faith (5:1-10:33).
Whatever the specific issue, the problem at bottom was that the Corinthians continued to
operate with the mind of the “old man” rather than the “mind of Christ.” They had been
given a renewed mind through the Spirit’s power and indwelling presence (ref. 2:12-16),
and yet were effectively denying that truth by their immature foolishness and fleshliness
(3:1-4). In spite of their new life in Christ and all that His Spirit had given and taught
them (1:4-7), the Corinthians continued to think and act as “mere men.” And at the
heart of what it means to be “men of flesh” is a natural, loveless mind that views all
of life through the perspective and interests of oneself. Everything plaguing the church
at Corinth was the outflow of an autonomous, self-seeking spirit.
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a.
The Lord’s Table and the Mind of Men
Natural-mindedness (what James called “natural wisdom”) refers to the way
human beings instinctively conceive of themselves and the world around them in
the context of their estrangement from God. Because of man’s essential nature
and intended function as divine image-bearer, human estrangement from God
means estrangement from oneself, all other people, and the created order in
general. Estrangement results in the effective isolation of the individual – in his
thoughts, affections, interests and even his interactions. However selfless a person
may appear, in their estrangement human beings cannot help but have themselves
as their ultimate point of reference, judgment and concern in everything.
Estrangement means the isolation of the individual, and such isolation destroys
the capacity for authentic human community. This is precisely why the Church is
an “other-worldly” entity whose origin and life reside in the renewal inaugurated
by Christ: The Church expresses a reality of intrinsic unity and mutuality that is
impossible in the context of man’s fallenness. What men call “community” is
nothing more than a larger-scale manifestation of the principle of reciprocity.
Human communities – whatever their specific ground, form, purpose and
orientation – find their cohesion in the individual’s hope of fulfilled selfinterest, not the intimacy and self-giving of authentic human love.
The Corinthian church was ordering itself in just this way. Though it had a
spiritual “charter” and self-understanding (at least to some extent), the community
of believers at Corinth was administering its communal life as if it were still a
natural organization or society. Thus, at its core, the Corinthian church was
divided – characterized by the “schism” of individualism with its pride,
pretension, posturing and pursuit of personal ends (cf. 1:10-13, 1:26-2:5, 3:1-4:21,
5:1-6, 6:1-8, 8:1-10:33, 11:1-16, 12:1-14:40, 15:1-12).
1)
As it was with every other aspect of its communal life, so it was with the
Corinthian church’s observance of the Lord’s Table: That which, more
than anything else, was to exemplify and testify to the true nature and
extent of the community’s bond had become merely another expression of
its elemental and defining schism (11:17-22).
2)
When the Corinthians gathered to celebrate the Lord’s Table, it wasn’t as
Christ’s spiritual Body but as a group of self-interested individuals. Their
physical “coming together” belied their essential division (11:18), so that
their gathering for the sake of partaking in the Table only heightened their
guilt; it was for the worse, not the better (11:17).
Thus Paul could declare to the Corinthians that their partaking in the
Lord’s Table was anything but that (11:20). Yes, they were gathering,
eating and drinking with the perception that they were celebrating the
Table, but the truth was that their celebration amounted to a denial of it.
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3)
b.
The mechanics of the observance were in place, but the substance was
absent because of the fundamental disconnect between the reality of the
Lord’s Table and what it signifies and the way the Corinthians were
observing it. They were bringing their individualism and self-interest to
the very ordinance that so powerfully speaks of corporate oneness
grounded in personal union with Christ.
-
By partaking in the Table – by symbolically partaking of Christ’s
body and blood – the Corinthian believers were testifying to their
personal union with Christ by His indwelling Spirit (John 6:48-58).
-
But for that very reason they were equally testifying to their
essential union with one another (whether they discerned it or not).
Yet the mindset they brought to that public attestation – evidenced
in the way they ate and drank – served to negate the very thing
they were supposedly affirming. Their coming together affirmed,
not their oneness in Christ, but their division (11:21-22).
The Lord’s Table and the Mind of Christ
It’s noteworthy that Paul wasn’t willing to simply rebuke the Corinthians for their
abuse of the Lord’s Table or communicate to them the seriousness of their
violation. It was crucial to him that they understand why their actions respecting
the ordinance were so grievous and culpable in the sight of God; he wanted them
to clearly and fully discern the true nature of their offense.
1)
Some have located the Corinthians’ offense in a disposition of selfishness
that dishonored the Table’s spirit of welcoming fellowship. Others have
concluded that the problem was that they were violating the law of love.
While both of these views contribute something to the discussion, they fall
short of identifying the real issue: It wasn’t simply that these saints were
acting selfishly and disrespectfully toward one another; their actions
revealed a fundamental way of thinking that was antithetical to the Table
and its significance. It wasn’t that the Corinthians were violating the spirit
of the Table; they were not observing it at all.
-
What the Corinthian believers were doing when they came
together was simply one more manifestation of natural
“community” that has absolutely no connection with the realities
of the new creation inaugurated in Christ – the realities that
underlie and are so powerfully signified by the Lord’s Table.
-
Inasmuch as their gathering effectively denied their true identity
and function as the “dwelling of God in the Spirit,” it constituted a
denial of Christ Himself; the Corinthians were guilty of the body
and blood of the Lord (11:23-27).
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2)
The Corinthian offense wasn’t selfishness, disrespect, or inhospitality, but
the blasphemy of a practical denial of what Christ had accomplished and
initiated by His self-offering. The Table was to be a testimony and
celebration of the truth and uniqueness of Christ’s Body as the community
joined to Him and one another by His Spirit. The Table exalts Christ by
spotlighting and celebrating His fulfilled sanctuary – His Body, but in
their eating and drinking the Christians at Corinth had failed to “rightly
discern the Body,” thus bringing judgment upon themselves (11:28-29).
Understood in this way, the gravity of the Corinthians’ offense becomes
evident and it’s easy to see why God responded to it with such severity.
Their flagrant abuse of His Son’s Table had moved Him to afflict many
among them with infirmity, sickness and even death. But this wasn’t an
act of condemnation, but the loving discipline of the heavenly Father
seeking His children’s correction and restoration (11:30-32).
3)
4)
Thus the remedy for the Corinthians’ plight was repentance – not a change
in their behavior, but a conscientious rethinking of who they were in
Christ, the meaning and purpose of His Table, and their relationship to it.
-
The remedy was for them to rightly judge the Body by “laying
aside the old self” and “putting on the new self which, in the
likeness of God, has been created in righteousness and holiness of
the truth” (ref. Ephesians 4:20-24; cf. also Colossians 3:9-11).
-
If they would renounce the natural thinking that formerly defined
them and, with the mind of Christ, judge themselves and the body
rightly, there would no longer be the need for God to judge them.
This, then, is the meaning of “self-examination” in relation to the Lord’s
Table (v. 28). For many Christians, self-examination in preparation for
partaking in the Table consists of a mental scan of one’s recent thoughts,
words and actions measured against perceived biblical demands. When
this process yields awareness of violation, some respond with conscious
confession and petition for forgiveness. But in some instances, the sense
of personal failure leaves the individual hesitant to participate in the Table
at all, while others are even left questioning their own salvation.
As common as this approach to self-examination is, it completely misses
Paul’s point and distracts the believer from the real matter of concern (for
himself as well as for the Corinthian church). Even if a person were to
come to the Table innocent of all acts of transgression, he could very well
still be guilty of the body and blood of Christ. If he brings to the Table an
underlying disposition of individualism and autonomy, he is guilty of
wrongly judging the body. In contrast to the Corinthians, he may be sober
and pious, but he has nonetheless despised the Table and denied its Lord.
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VI.
Sacred Space in Consummation
The Fall in Eden provided the occasion for God’s first promise to men. His pledge to recover all
things from their estrangement by crushing the serpent through Eve’s seed provided the
foundational premise and essential content of every subsequent promise. All of salvation history
– and therefore the totality of the biblical record – is simply the purposeful, progressive work of
the triune God in fully realizing His protoevangelium.
God pledged Himself to recover what His image-son had destroyed, and the substance of that
recovery – which is the recovery of sacred space – was realized in the person and work of the
true image-son: the Last Adam and Seed of the Woman. Jesus Christ is the very substance of
God’s fulfillment of His promise to end the estrangement between Himself and His creation,
even as He is the true sanctuary. God and man have been reconciled and joined in perfect and
exhaustive spiritual intimacy in the person of Christ (John 1:1-14), but His vicarious selfoffering and resurrection as consummate Man and Last Adam indicated that His own status as
God’s sanctuary pointed beyond Him to the human race. Jesus Himself is the true sanctuary, but
as the chief cornerstone: In Him God has revealed and displayed the destiny of man as imageson; in Him formerly estranged human beings are being built together into God’s consummate
dwelling place. At the same time, though the restored human race is the center point of God’s
fulfilled sanctuary, it isn’t its fullness. What began and continues in the present with the building
of a human “spiritual house” will come to its final consummation in the summing up of
everything in the heavens and earth in Jesus Christ.
A.
The Preface to Consummation – Already But Not Yet
Throughout this series the phrase sacred space has been used in reference to God’s dwelling, not
in terms of where God is, but how He is in relation to His creation. Sacred space is concerned
with God’s relational presence with His creatures rather than His spatial presence. Sacred space
speaks to Creator-creature intimacy, specifically as it is mediated in and through the human
creature created in the divine likeness to be image-son.
God’s eternal goal is consummate intimacy with His creation to be realized through the
consummation of man’s own unique nature. That outcome isn’t realized by humanity’s return to
its pre-fall Adamic state, but its re-creation according to the likeness of another “Adam.” Full
christiformity is the destiny God appointed for His image-bearer; man becomes truly human in
the man, Jesus Christ (cf. Romans 8:28-30; 2 Corinthians 3:17-18; Philippians 3:20-21). But
Christ is also the destiny of the whole created order, first as Redeemer, but then as Man.
-
Christ’s work of redemption extends beyond the human race to the entire creation. In the
present age the creation continues to groan under its slavery to corruption, eagerly
longing for the day of its own participation in the renewing efficacy of Jesus’ redemption.
-
But just as the created order’s subjection to corruption came through man, so also will its
deliverance and renewal. The creation longs for the “revealing of the sons of God”
precisely because its own renewal depends upon humanity’s final glorification; the
creation will be restored to God when man’s renewal is complete (cf. Romans 8:18-22).
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The created order is still awaiting its own deliverance from its slavery and entrance into the
“freedom of the glory of the children of God.” That liberation will come with Christ’s appearing
at the end of the age to abolish mortality and corruption forever. When man is set free from his
mortality and brought into the consummate human glory epitomized in Christ, the “first fruits,”
the rest of the creation will at last enter into its own everlasting glory (1 Corinthians 15:20-28).
In that way it will realize its foreordained summation in Him (Ephesians 1:9-10).
1.
God ordained this final outcome of cosmic renewal and recovery and has secured it by
Christ’s once-for-all work of redemption (cf. Colossians 1:19-20 with Hebrews 7:26-28,
9:11-12, 9:23-10:18). But Jesus didn’t simply secure the creation’s restoration to God; He
initiated it by virtue of His own enthronement and outpouring of the Spirit of re-creation.
God’s predetermined eschatological outcome is already present in substance.
The so-called “eternal state” is characterized by the consummate realization of the
“kingdom of God.” But that realization is simply the consummation of sacred space: the
shalomic, everlasting shabbat of divine dominion exercised over the whole creation
through man, the image-son. This divine-human dominion finds its substance in Christ
who is both True God and True Man, but it extends from Him to those who share His
likeness. As is commonly the case with human kings, the divine Father-Lord administers
His sovereign rule through the sons who bear His image.
The fullness of this state of affairs hasn’t yet been realized, but its substance has. The
kingdom of God as the fulfillment of sacred space has been ushered in; all that remains is
its progress and final consummation at Christ’s return. Many Christians acknowledge that
God has inaugurated His eschatological kingdom in His Son, but few conceive of that
truth in terms of the present existence of the eternal state. For the vast majority of
Christians, the phrase “eternal state” conjures up images of an other-worldly, everlasting
existence in the presence of God in a heavenly city somewhere “out there.” The eternal
state is something Christians believe in and await, but it has no place in their present
earthly existence. And yet, if they can speak in terms of a present “new creation,” they
are acknowledging the inauguration of the eternal state whether or not they are conscious
of it. To contend otherwise is to argue that the new creation that Christ initiated in
Himself is transitory and transitional rather than inaugural and ultimate.
Though few Christians think of the present interadvental age as the inauguration of the
eternal state, this is precisely what the New Testament indicates:
a.
When Jesus proclaimed the in-breaking of the kingdom of God, He didn’t suggest
it would take a different form in the future. His coming indicated the inception of
the promised new age – the “age of the Spirit,” and what had begun with Him as
the “man of the Spirit” was to advance in a new race of “spiritual men.” First as
individuals, and then as a corporate “house,” these “men of the Spirit” constitute
God’s eschatological sanctuary (cf. Matthew 12:15-29; John 14:12-26, 17:20-23;
Acts 1-2 with Ezekiel 36-37; Joel 2:28-32; Zechariah 3-4). All that remains is the
completion of the sanctuary through the ingathering of the fullness of Abraham’s
children (Galatians 3:26-29) and the renewal of the non-human creation.
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b.
Paul likewise recognized that Jesus’ coming had ushered in the eschatological
“new creation” which God had long promised through His prophets. This is
evident in his use of such phrases as “ends of the ages” and “fullness of the time”
(cf. 1 Corinthians 10:11; Galatians 4:4). Paul regarded salvation history as being
broadly partitioned into two ages: the age preceding Christ’s advent and the age
subsequent to it. The former was preparatory and pedagogical; the latter is the
time of fulfillment or fullness (Galatians 3:15-25; cf. Ephesians 2:11-22).
This is not to imply that Paul had no conception of a future “eternal state”; he
clearly did (ref. again 1 Corinthians 15:25-28, 51-58). But Paul viewed the
consummation of all things at Christ’s return as just that: God’s bringing to
consummate fullness that which already exists.
-
Christ’s cross reconciled the whole creation to God (Colossians 1:19-20),
and yet the creation groans awaiting its liberation from its present slavery
to corruption (Romans 8:18-22).
-
So also Christ redeemed and reconciled Adam’s race to the CreatorFather, yet those who are in Christ await the coming day of the
“redemption of God’s possession” (Ephesians 1:13-14).
-
Likewise, Jesus has abolished death by inaugurating renewed life in
Himself (2 Timothy 1:8-10), and yet death remains as the last enemy to be
destroyed (1 Corinthians 15:25-26; cf. Romans 6:1-11).
-
Those in Christ are seated in the heavenly places and have their lives
hidden with Him in God (Ephesians 2:4-6; Colossians 3:1-3), and yet they
await Jesus’ glorious appearing and their being forever joined with Him
(Colossians 3:4; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-17; Titus 2:11-13).
Paul’s conviction that the “Christ event” ushered in the substance of the eternal
state is perhaps most conspicuous in his reference to the New Jerusalem (ref.
Galatians 4:19-31). In this context he drew upon the Old Testament prophetic
promise regarding Jerusalem’s restoration and exaltation as Yahweh’s final,
everlasting sanctuary in His consummate kingdom (cf. Isaiah 2:1-4, 4:1-6, 24:1923, 27:1-13, 33:17-21, 52:1-10, 62:6-12, 66:19-23; also Jeremiah 30:17-22, 31:16, 33:10-16; Joel 3:13-21; Micah 4:1-8; Zechariah 14:16-21; etc.).
As the site God chose for His sanctuary under the Israelite kingdom, Jerusalem
(with its “Zion” theology) came to represent sacred space: the designated place of
divine-human interface where men encounter, commune with, worship and serve
the living God. Israelite and Gentile alike were obligated to meet God at His
dwelling place (1 Kings 8:41-43), and so it was no surprise that the prophets
spoke of worship in the global, eschatological kingdom in terms of all the earth’s
peoples coming up to Jerusalem to encounter the Lord, learn of Him and worship
Him there (Isaiah 56:6-8, 66:19-23; Micah 4:1-8; also Zechariah 8:1-8, 18-23).
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In this Galatians context Paul drew specifically from Isaiah 54, a passage in which
Zion (Jerusalem) is called upon to enlarge her dwelling place in view of the
atoning self-offering of Yahweh’s Servant (53:1-10). As Yahweh’s covenant
“wife,” Zion was to bear children for Him, but she became a harlot who bore only
unfaithful children out of her own harlotry (cf. Ezekiel 16, 23; Hosea 1:1-2:13).
Thus Yahweh stripped Zion of her children and sent her away (50:1), but He also
promised to restore her to Himself and give her an abundance of children (ref.
49:14-21): In her restoration, the formerly barren Zion would bear more children
for the Lord than she had when she was in her previous married state (54:1-3).
Zion’s restoration to bear a multitude of covenant children was to result from the
work of the Lord’s Servant, and Paul recognized that this promise had been
fulfilled in Jesus Christ.
-
By virtue of Christ’s self-sacrifice, Yahweh was gathering to Himself a
covenant household drawn from every tribe, tongue and people. Just as the
prophets had declared, Jerusalem – sacred space – had been restored and
was gathering in all the nations to worship and serve the living God.
-
But this restored, eschatological “Zion” is spiritual; it is the “Jerusalem
above” which bears spiritual children for God – children of promise, not
of the flesh. In contrast, the physical city of Jerusalem is earthly and
natural; it corresponds to Hagar and continues to bear children of the flesh
appointed for slavery (Galatians 4:21-26).
Paul recognized that Isaiah’s prophecy of Jerusalem’s restoration in the
eschatological kingdom had been fulfilled, and not in a physical recovery of the
physical city in the land of Canaan, but in the recovery of sacred space in Christ
which Zion represented all along. The New Jerusalem – focal point of the
fulfilled kingdom of God – is already established and bearing her children.
c.
This truth is reinforced by the author of Hebrews. In seeking to encourage his
Jewish-Christian readers to hold fast to the faith they had received, he reminded
them of the fact that the Old Covenant Judaism they had left was of no value
because it was merely preparatory and pedagogical. In coming to Christ, they
hadn’t come to God like their forefathers at Sinai: terrified and commanded to
stay away under the threat of death. That encounter, which formally initiated
Israel’s life with God, had effectively defined their relationship for the duration of
the theocracy. No, by coming to Christ in faith, these Jews had come to the new
heavenly Jerusalem – the heavenly Mount Zion that is the true city of God. They
had come to realized sacred space: the spiritual realm of true intimacy with the
living God, His Christ, and His saints (Hebrews 12:18-24).
The New Jerusalem exists in the present precisely because the “consummation of
the ages” has come (9:26). Christ has ushered in the kingdom of God as the
prophets promised, and all the nations are now streaming to His holy mountain.
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2.
The present existence of “eternity” is perhaps best demonstrated by considering the
Bible’s conception of eternal life.
a.
b.
The Fall introduced the principle of death (that is, comprehensive estrangement
between Creator and creation that has resulted in the destruction of sacred space),
which became the defining characteristic of the created order leading up to the
coming of Christ. For this reason, the promise of recovery from the effects of the
Fall was the promise of life out of death.
-
This began with the protoevangelium in the Garden. Eve’s deception had
brought death to the creation, but God promised to restore life through her
seed; in that way, Eve was the mother of all the living (Genesis 3:14-20).
-
That germinal representation of creational renewal as life out of death saw
development first with Seth’s birth, then with the Flood event, and then by
God’s perpetuating His promise of a seed by opening barren wombs.
-
Later, this principle was pictured in God’s delivering Israel from the
“death” of bondage in Egypt to bring His “son” into the “life” of covenant
union with Him in His sanctuary land (ref. Deuteronomy 30:11-20).
-
By its unbelief and disobedience, Israel chose death rather than life, and
the day finally came when the covenant nation was driven away from
God’s presence (cf. with Genesis 3:22-24). But this desolating “death”
was attended with the prophetic promise of future restoration back to life
(Ezekiel 37) – not the symbolic, temporal “life” of the former theocratic
kingdom, but the authentic life of spiritual and creational renewal.
-
This life was promised in connection with the coming and work of
Yahweh’s Servant and the establishing of His everlasting kingdom (cf.
Isaiah 11:1-12:6, 35:1-10, 53:1-55:13, 59:1-61:11; etc.).
So it is that when Christ – to whom all the Scripture bore witness – came into the
world, He spoke of Himself as the One who was bringing life to God’s estranged
creation. This theme is particularly pronounced in John’s gospel: Christ uniquely
possesses life (1:4) and He gives life to the world (5:21, 6:32-35). He imparts this
life to men through their faith in Him, and it is a life that is eternal – that is,
ultimate and consummate (5:21-24, 39-40, 6:27-54, 11:20-26, 17:1-3).
The life that has come in Christ is eternal, not because it endures forever, but
because it is the divine life that is uniquely suited to God’s image-bearers (5:1926). And because “eternal” speaks to the nature and quality of this life, it doesn’t
begin at the point of the believer’s death. All who have embraced Christ in faith
already possess this authentic life that marks the eternal state; they have passed
from death to life (5:24). All they await is the consummation of eternal life in the
vanquishing of mortality when the perishable will have put on the imperishable.
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B.
The Resurrection
The final, everlasting kingdom promised throughout the Old Testament scriptures has been
realized in Christ. This is evident on at least three accounts:
-
First, Christ is true Man. Jesus is the fulfillment and fullness of man – the being uniquely
created in the divine image and likeness in order to exercise God’s creational dominion as
royal image-son (cf. Genesis 1:26-30, 2:7-15; Luke 3:38).
-
But He is also the true David. At the time of the Fall God promised to deliver His
creation from its estrangement and to do so through a man. But the creation account
indicates God’s design that the created order should have the form of a kingdom,
implying that His restored creation would share the same structure. This implication
became explicit with the Abrahamic Covenant; God promised a kingdom to Abraham and
this promise found its first fulfillment in the Israelite theocracy. That prototypical
manifestation of the Abrahamic kingdom came to its full expression under David’s reign,
and God promised in the Davidic Covenant that the true, everlasting kingdom portrayed
by the Israelite theocracy would similarly be established by a regal descendent of David.
The New Testament shows Jesus of Nazareth to be that son of David (2 Samuel 7:1-17;
cf. Acts 2:22-36, 13:32-39 with Psalm 2, 110; Romans 1:1-4 with Ephesians 1:18-22).
-
Finally, Jesus came as the prophesied Servant of Yahweh and Man of the Spirit (Isaiah
11:1ff, 42:1-7, 61:1-3; Luke 4:16-21; cf. also Matthew 12:27-28). It was in His Servant,
the Branch of David – the One who would possess the fullness of His Spirit – that the
Lord would establish and administer the consummate kingdom of His restored creation.
Jesus inaugurated the promised kingdom at His first coming, but according to the paradigm of
already-but-not-yet. The Servant has triumphed through His self-offering and thereby effected
Zion’s renewal such that she is now gathering in the sons of the kingdom (Isaiah 49-54). Those
sons commemorate the Servant’s work by their participation in His Table (1 Corinthians 11:26),
but in so doing they look forward as much as backward; they eat and drink in anticipation of the
day when they will eat in the Lord’s presence in the fullness of His kingdom (Luke 22:14-18).
And precisely because the kingdom of the new creation is ultimate and everlasting, Christ’s
inauguration of this kingdom is His inauguration of the eternal state. Eternity was introduced
with His first coming and it will be consummated at His return. There are several aspects of that
consummation, the first of which is the bodily resurrection associated with the renewal of the
entire material creation.
1.
More than any other biblical theme, resurrection speaks to the central kingdom principle
of “life out of death.” Again, God’s declared determination to recover His estranged
creation was His promise to sovereignly bring life out of death. Estrangement is death, so
that reconciliation implies life from the dead. Throughout the time of preparation, God
continually reaffirmed this kingdom principle, eventually bringing it to its realization in
Jesus’ resurrection. By it the Lord didn’t merely triumph over the grave; He more
importantly inaugurated the “life” that is consummate, glorified humanness.
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a.
Jesus’ resurrection manifested the fact that God had fulfilled His promise to bring
renewal and restoration to His creation, specifically in relation to man. Thus
Christ’s victory over death and His emergence into consummate life weren’t
purely self-referential. His resurrection testified to the world that the new creation
had finally been inaugurated; He is the first fruits of God’s renewal such that His
life out of death ultimately comprehends the whole created order. But being the
Last Adam, Jesus is the first fruits of the new creation with particular respect to
the human race: “For since by a man came death, by a man also came the
resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ all shall be
made alive” (ref. 1 Corinthians 15:20-22).
b.
Jesus’ life out of death as the Last Adam means life out of death for Adam’s
fallen race. But His impartation of His life to men has two distinct components
consistent with the overarching principle of already-but-not-yet:
1)
Jesus’ resurrection life is first imparted to men through the new birth.
Through faith in Him and the power of His life-giving Spirit, men are
delivered from death and joined to Him so as to share in His own
consummate (“eternal”) life (cf. John 5:24, 8:12, 10:10).
Moreover, the new birth translates a person from death into life in two
respects: First of all, the believer is delivered from death as the
determinative reality that defined him in his estrangement from God
(Romans 6:1-11; 2 Corinthians 5:17; Ephesians 2:1-6). But he also enters
into Christ’s life having “died” to his former nature and the governance of
the “old order” of things (Colossians 2:6-3:11, ref. esp. 2:20-3:4).
2)
Christ has inaugurated eschatological life in Himself and men enter into it
through personal union with Him by His Spirit. In Him, they presently
possess eternal life: Through the new birth, they have been “glorified” in
obtaining the consummate humanness of the eternal state. But they don’t
possess His life fully: The “already” aspect of eternal life pertains to the
human spirit, while the “not yet” points to the fullness of life to be realized
in the resurrection of the body. This second aspect of resurrection (as “life
out of death”) involves the complete overthrow and “death” of death.
Christ’s first coming saw the destruction of death as spiritual estrangement; His
second coming will bring the end of death as creational corruption. Though the
whole creation has been reconciled to God through Christ’s redemptive work
(Colossians 1:19-20), it is only man in his spiritual aspect that presently enjoys
the life of that reconciliation. Man’s physicality – together with the rest of the
material creation – still exists under the corruption associated with the curse. But
precisely because man is both body and soul, the future triumph of immortality
and imperishability in the resurrection of the body is a central feature of the New
Testament’s eschatological hope.
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2.
As resurrection speaks to participation in Christ’s life, so it also speaks to participation in
His likeness. The reason, again, is that, being the Last Adam, Jesus is the fountainhead –
the source and substance – of a new race of men that constitutes God’s consummate
humanity. And because human destiny resides in Christ, the impartation of His likeness
as well as His life applies equally to both human components of body and soul.
-
The “first resurrection” that is the new birth generates the life of Christ in the
believer’s spirit, and that life is then nurtured and progressively perfected by
Christ’s Spirit as He transforms him in the inner man into the likeness of the
Savior (2 Corinthians 3:18).
-
So also, the aspect of “life” that is Jesus’ own consummate, glorified physicality
is imparted to those who are His at His return. This is the second resurrection (ref.
1 Corinthians 15:42-49; Philippians 3:20-21; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-17; 1 John 3:2;
cf. also 2 Corinthians 4:13-14).
Both body and soul have been appointed to share in the life and likeness of Christ, but
each in its own order. The first “resurrection” occurs at the point of regeneration with
Christ’s spiritual epiphany in the heart; the second at Christ’s physical epiphany at the
close of the age. In the interim, Christians – along with everything else under the present
form of the new creation – exist in the already-but-not-yet state. This is the case not
simply with respect to the incompletion of their spiritual conformity to Christ, but also in
the essential discontinuity between their spirits and bodies (Romans 8:9-11).
a.
The most obvious issue in the discontinuity between the believer’s body and soul
pertains to the present earthly existence. As Paul observed, the Christian’s spirit is
now alive because of righteousness, but the body is dead (corrupt and mortal)
because of sin. But of equal importance is the body-soul discontinuity that
characterizes the intermediate state which follows upon physical death.
Christians already possess eternal life such that the grave holds no terror and has
no ultimate power over them; for them, “to be absent from the body is to be at
home with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8; cf. Philippians 1:23). They presently
share in Christ’s resurrection so that physical death only transforms faith into
sight. And yet this transition doesn’t consummate Christ’s life in them:
-
The intermediate state that follows death brings the release of the soul
from the body’s corruption and constraint, but it leaves the Christian
“unclothed” and incomplete, waiting to be clothed with his heavenly
“tabernacle” (2 Corinthians 5:1-4).
-
Even as Christians on this side of the grave are marked by deep longing as
they live in faith and hope (Romans 8:23-24; Philippians 3:17-21; Titus
2:11-13; etc.), so the spirits of departed saints await the day of Christ’s
Parousia when the new creation inaugurated by Him is brought to its
consummate and all-comprehending fullness.
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b.
When Christ returns, the “not yet” dimension of the believer’s conformity to His
life and likeness will be realized. In the present age, the spirits of Christians
participate in the new creation while their bodies remain subject to corruption,
and this discontinuity within their humanity is maximized at death when the body
is relegated to the grave and the spirit enters the Lord’s presence. But man wasn’t
created to be a non-corporeal being: Man is body as well as soul, so that his
transformation into Christ-likeness must extend to every aspect of his humanity.
In this regard the Christian’s redemption is incomplete and anticipates the Lord’s
glorious appearing. At that time “the dead in Christ will rise” and those believers
“who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to
meet the Lord” (1 Thessalonians 4:16-17). The perfected spirits of believers will
then be reunited with their glorified bodies; then at last the “unclothed” saints will
be clothed with their “dwelling from heaven” (2 Corinthians 5:1-4).
This bodily resurrection/renewal is the “second resurrection” and is the precursor
to the final judgment and disposition of all men that ushers in the consummate
eternal state. For some, this resurrection and conjoining of body and spirit will fit
them for judgment and condemnation; for others, it will complete their conformity
to Christ and equip them for eternity in the heavenly kingdom (cf. John 5:25-29;
Revelation 20:11-15; also Matthew 25:31-46).
Thus the bodily resurrection of dead believers must not be regarded as merely the
reconstitution and reanimation of their physical substance. The issue isn’t the
animation of dead flesh, but the christiformity of the whole man; the resurrection
of the last day serves to consummate mankind’s decreed participation in the life
and likeness of the True Man (Romans 8:28-30; Ephesians 1:3-12). As believers
have born the earthy nature of the first Adam, so they must bear in fullness the
heavenly nature of the Last Adam. “Flesh and blood” are unsuited to the spiritual
new creation that is the new heavens and earth (1 Corinthians 15:42-53).
Though glorified, incorruptible and eternal, the resurrection body will nonetheless
be truly physical and material, able to function in accordance with the dynamics
of human physical existence in this age (ref. again Luke 24:36-40; cf. also John
21:1-14). And yet, it will transcend the definitions and limitations of the present
order of things. Being a “heavenly” body, it will operate according to the
principles of the heavenly realm (Luke 24:28-31; John 20:26; Acts 1:9).
The resurrection of the last day thus speaks to the present as much as to the future. It sets in front
of all men the consummation to come, and thereby calls them to rightly judge the present. For
the unbelieving, it warns them that neither time, death, nor decay will separate them from the day
of reckoning appointed for all men. At the same time, it holds out to them Christ’s power over
death and destruction as the Lord and giver of life. For the saints, the final resurrection is a
reminder that they already enjoy Christ’s resurrection life; even now they have passed out of
death into the life of eternity. For them, the resurrection of their bodies will simply consummate
their transformation into the likeness of the True Image (1 Corinthians 15:54-58).
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C.
The New Heavens and Earth
God’s eternal intention for His creation is entirely bound up in Jesus Christ. Paul expressed this
christocentric destiny as the “summing up of all things in the heavens and earth in Christ”
(Ephesians 1:9-10). The meaning of this “summing up” is that every created thing is to find the
ultimacy of its identity, significance, and purpose in relation to Christ. All things have their
substance and subsistence in Him and were created for Him; the entire creation is christotelic as
well as christogenic – it both originates and reaches its terminus in Christ (Colossians 1:15-17).
-
The most obvious way in which this is true is that Christ is the source of the creation’s
deliverance and renewal with respect to the curse. All things enter into the perfection of
the eternal state in and through Him and His redemptive work.
-
But, beyond this, the created order finds its destiny in Christ because He is the fulfillment
of sacred space. As the God-Man, Jesus is uniquely God’s sanctuary; He is the point of
interface between the Creator and His creation, so that all things are related to God in
and through Him. Even as God determined to exercise His dominion over His creation
through man, the unique image-son, so man finds his true and consummate humanity in
the singular image-Son. The origin and destiny of man are in Christ.
1.
Creational Renewal and the Consummation of Sacred Space
God’s larger goal for the creation is fundamental to discerning the meaning of the “new
heavens and earth.” Traced through its various lines of development, the scriptural
storyline reveals that God’s ultimate intention for His creation isn’t merely its
reconstitution or rejuvenation, but the realization of its true purpose in relation to Himself
in and through Jesus Christ.
God’s eternal intention is that the whole created order will finally become sacred space.
The goal of the Creator wasn’t creational perfection as such, but relational perfection; the
created order was to serve as the domain of Creator-creature intimacy.
a.
God’s intimate presence within the creation was realized with the Incarnation:
The divine presence was fully manifested in the creaturely realm when “the Word
became flesh and tabernacled among us,” revealing in fullness the glory of God
as the divine Son (ref. John 1:1-2, 14-18; cf. also Hebrews 1:1-3).
b.
In the person of the incarnate Son, the Creator and His creation were at last
reconciled and brought into the most intimate communion: In Christ all the
fullness of deity dwells bodily (Colossians 2:9). But this realization of sacred
space looked beyond Christ to the creature who is image-bearer: In Him, man
“has been made complete” (Colossians 2:10). Paul understood this completion as
man sharing in Christ’s fullness as the dwelling of God. In Christ, man has
attained the spiritual identity and intimacy for which he was created; in Christ
man has become God’s sanctuary as image-son.
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c.
But man is God’s royal image-son: That is, he was appointed to bear the divine
likeness and live in perfect communion with His Creator-Father in order to rule in
His name and on His behalf. What began in Christ extends through Him as the
Last Adam to the new race of men: God determined that His presence and
lordship with respect to His creation should be mediated through His imagebearer – preeminently in the person of the singular Image-Son, but also in those
who share His likeness (2 Timothy 2:11-12). Man is personally and uniquely the
divine dwelling place, but his presence in the created order as vice-regent
effectively makes the entire realm of his habitation the sanctuary of God.
This connection is most explicit in John’s vision of the new heavens and earth in
Revelation 21-22. It is eminently appropriate that this should be the case since this
vision brings God’s revelation of His eternal purpose and its consummate
fulfillment to its greatest biblical expression.
-
John introduced his vision by explaining that it represented a symbolic
revelation of the new heavens and new earth (21:1). Its presence meant
that the former created order – the first heavens and earth (Genesis 1:1) –
had passed away, and John took specific note that there was no sea in the
new order. This is a powerful metaphor when understood in terms of the
biblical symbolism attached to the sea.
First, the sea was a central feature of the creation along with the heavens
(sky and firmament) and the earth (dry land). But the sea also symbolizes
the powers of chaos and rebellion that operate in the created order. The
Israelites were not a seafaring people and so regarded the “deep” as an
unknown, mysterious, and foreboding realm (Job 38:16-17; Jonah 2:3-6).
The sea is also a restless and untamed entity that continually presses
against its divinely established boundaries and that only God can subdue
(Job 7:12, 26:12, 38:8-11, 41:31-32; Psalm 74:13-14, 89:9; Isaiah 57:20;
Jeremiah 5:22). Extending this imagery, the sea then serves as a metaphor
for the principle of spiritual rebellion against God (Isaiah 27:1).
The following citation from the Dictionary of Biblical Imagery sheds light
on the significance of there being no sea in the new creation: “The Bible
adapts its neighbors’ creation myths of a primeval battle between a
creator god and a sea monster of chaos called Leviathan, Rahab, or the
dragon or serpent (Job 41). Unlike the myths of neighboring nations, God
creates the chaos monster and places it in the sea (Gen 1:20-21; Ps
104:24-6). The monster stirs the cosmic sea but is wounded and subdued
by God and will ultimately be vanquished in the end times. As the home of
the chaos monster who can be roused, the sea symbolizes the threat of the
reemergence of chaos (Job 3:8). In fact, the evil world powers and the
antichrist of the last days which oppose God and his people are
symbolized as beasts arising from the sea (Dan 7:3; Rev 13:1).”
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John’s observation at the vision’s outset that the new created order lacks a
sea expresses the central truth that, in the consummation of the last day, no
form or threat of opposition to God and the peace and security of His
kingdom rule will ever present itself again. All disorder, unsettledness,
and rebellion will be vanquished in the shalomic shabbat of the new order.
-
-
But as John sees the new creation of the new heavens and earth, it presents
itself as a city, namely the New Jerusalem (21:2). The convergence of
these symbols in the vision indicates that the Lord’s sanctuary –
represented by Jerusalem as His dwelling place – will have then embraced
the whole created order. A couple of other observations reinforce this:
1)
The first is that the city is represented as an immense Holy of
Holies possessing the glory of God as a permanent endowment
(21:9-16; cf. Exodus 40:33-34; 1 Kings 8:1-11). There was no need
for a temple in the city since the entire space constituted the
sanctuary-throne of the Lord God and the Lamb (21:22; cf.
Jeremiah 3:16-18; Zechariah 2:1-13).
2)
Secondly, the heavenly city was revealed to John to be the full
extent of sacred space; everything outside of it represents the realm
of “ichabod” and condemnation (cf. 21:24-27 with 22:14-15).
The New Jerusalem also notably appears as a bride, linking the city with
the Church as the wife of the Lamb (21:2, 9-10; cf. John 3:29; Ephesians
5:22-29; Revelation 19:6-9, 22:17). This correspondence draws directly
upon the Old Testament’s representation of Zion (Jerusalem) as Yahweh’s
covenant wife. God’s intimacy with the covenant nation was expressed by
the image of Jerusalem as the wife who bears children for Him (cf. Isaiah
50:1 with 49:14-21 and 54:1-13; also Hosea 2:1-20).
God’s intimacy with His people is the central signification in this bride
imagery and is reinforced by the fact that the concept of sanctuary is the
point of connection between the New Jerusalem and the Church. After
seeing the city presented as a bride, a voice from God’s throne proclaimed
the vision’s meaning: The descent of the heavenly Jerusalem signified that
God’s dwelling is now consummately among men; they are His, forever at
rest and secure in the place of His habitation (21:3; cf. 3:12).
In pointed contrast with the former earthly Jerusalem, the citizens of New
Jerusalem have their home in the consummate Holy of Holies rather than
merely pass into it as wary visitors; they dwell where God dwells. And
more than that, they do so as bona fide sons, identified as such by the Lord
of the sanctuary Himself (21:7). The closeness to God enjoyed by the
city’s residents isn’t spatial as much as relational: They are beloved
children of a devoted Father – royal sons in the Son (1:4-6, 3:5, 21, 14:1).
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2.
Sacred Space and the Final Judgment
Though the final judgment has been a topic of great interest to Christians and theologians
over the centuries, few seem to take note of the larger salvation-historical context in
which it occurs and to which it pertains. Most Christians associate the final judgment
with the consummation of the present age, but it is far less common for them to connect it
with the core issue in the consummation, namely the full and final realization of God’s
eternal purpose for sacred space.
The basis for this connection isn’t the fact that the final judgment is a step in the process
that culminates with the rendering of the whole creation as God’s dwelling place. Rather,
it’s that the Scripture makes the realization of sacred space the frame of reference for the
reckoning and disposition that transpire with that judgment event.
a.
The final judgment will summon every person who has ever lived to stand before
the bar of God. Each one’s life will be scrutinized and all will be judged on the
basis of their relation to God and His gospel as it was fulfilled in His Son.
-
In His discourse on the Mount of Olives Jesus indicated that, at His return,
the “sheep” and “goats” will be distinguished on the basis of their
relationship with Him expressed in their treatment of His brethren
(Matthew 25:31-46). But elsewhere He was more direct that the singular
criterion in the judgment day will be a person’s relation to Him (cf.
Matthew 7:21-23, 8:1-12, 21:23-44, 25:1-12; Luke 13:23-30).
-
So Paul insisted that the issue in God’s final reckoning will be true
knowledge of Him evidenced in a person’s embrace of and conformity to
the gospel of His Son (2 Thessalonians 1:5-10; cf. 2:8-12).
-
Peter similarly linked the winnowing of the final judgment with how a
person regards Christ, His gospel, and the renewal that He has inaugurated
and is bringing to consummation (2 Peter 3:1-15).
Jesus Christ stands as the point of winnowing for the human race precisely
because, in Him, God has physically entered the realm of the creation in order to
openly reveal and accomplish His intention to recover His creation back to
Himself. In Christ, sacred space has been restored, so that failure to be reconciled
to God through faith in His Son constitutes denial and rejection of the new order.
b.
But the relation between the final judgment and the consummate realization of
sacred space is most powerfully demonstrated in the disposition of men coming
out of judgment. As the result of Christ’s scrutiny of every man’s life, He will
receive and embrace some while others are sent away from His presence into the
darkness and desolation of eternal destruction (ref. Matthew 7:21-23, 8:1-12,
22:1-13, 25:40-41; Luke 13:22-30; 2 Thessalonians 1:9; cf. also 2 Peter 2:1-17;
Jude 1-13; etc.).
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Separation from the Lord in condemnation is further described as being outside.
This imagery is important in that it introduces the concept of locale and implies
the existence of an “inside” reserved for those whom Christ receives to Himself. It
is in this regard that the theme of sacred space comes to the forefront in the final
judgment and its outcome, and it appears under three related images.
-
The first is the image of the kingdom of God, and it notably has particular
reference to the sons of Israel. They, rather than the Gentiles, lived in the
hope of the promised kingdom, and so it was appropriate that Jesus
explained the outcome of their disbelief and rejection of Him in terms of
their being cast out of God’s kingdom (ref. again Matthew 8:1-12, 21:3343, 22:1-13; Luke 13:22-30). In context, to be “cast out” is to be cut off
from the presence and fellowship of Yahweh and His King.
-
The second is the image of a wedding feast (Matthew 22:1-13, 25:1-12;
Luke 14:15-24; Revelation 19:1-9; cf. also Luke 13:22-30; John 3:22-29).
Those who refuse the master’s invitation or arrive without the appropriate
garments will be left outside, unable to partake in the celebration.
-
The notion of “outside” finds its pinnacle expression in the imagery of the
New Jerusalem (Revelation 21:23-27, 22:14-15; cf. Hebrews 12:18-24).
As with its typological counterpart, the heavenly Jerusalem signifies the
place of God’s dwelling and the seat of His throne. Therefore, to be
outside the city – which is illumined by the Lord’s presence – is to be in
outer darkness away from Him.
All three set forth a place/realm into which some men enter while others are left
outside. The indication in every instance is that “inside” or “outside” pertains to
every person; there is no third option. Moreover, each of these realms speaks to
sacred space in that they emphasize the presence of the Lord/master and His
communion with those granted entrance.
3.
Sacred Space and the Eternal State
The consummate kingdom is the full realization of sacred space – God with us. This
creational destiny was first portrayed in Eden and then made a matter of promise at the
time of the Fall. Later, it was realized prototypically in Israel and then in actuality in
Christ. In the present age the kingdom as sacred space is being manifested in the Church,
but in the last day it will reach its consummation when the Spirit transforms the entire
creation. Then, as the whole created order is at last “summed up in Christ,” the CreatorFather will have brought about the consummate fullness of sacred space.
In that day John’s final vision will have been fully realized: The new heavens and earth
as the renewed creation, the Church as the Bride, and the New Jerusalem as the sanctuary
and throne of God and the Lamb will together constitute sacred space; in that day, God
will forever be “all in all” (1 Corinthians 15:25-28).
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