OLD TESTAMENT BIBLICAL THEOLOGY
INTRODUCTION
The terms biblical and theology by themselves conjure up a host of connotations and associations. What, then, may be said of the combination biblical theology? Is not their use together tautological? Is it not self-evident that biblical and theological are virtually synonymous and that, in any case, theology is inconceivable apart from the Bible?
These and similar questions have surfaced since Old Testament times and throughout the course of church history and have demanded fresh responses in each generation. Never has this been more true than now, in the last decade of the twentieth century, for never have the twin disciplines of theology and biblical scholarship been in such disarray, and seldom has the church been less sure about their interrelationships.1
ITS DISTINCTIONS FROM SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY
The traditional understanding of biblical theology manifests itself in one of two forms: (1) it is the body of truth contained in the Bible, whether systematized at some point or not; or (2) it is truth that originates in the Bible, but which finds expression in logical and philosophical categories.2 The latter form, more properly defined as systematic theology, is essentially deductive in its method and articulation, whereas the first form, biblical theology in the narrow and technical sense, is inductive. In other words, biblical theology seeks to find its theological categories and emphases within the Bible itself and not from rational or classical patterns derived from without and imposed upon Scripture.
Another difference between biblical theology and systematic theology is in terms of development and dynamicism on the one hand and completion and staticism on the other. To put it theologically, one is diachronic in outlook and the other synchronic.3 Systematic theology is concerned to view and articulate biblical truth in terms of the complete canonical witness without particular concern for the developmental process at work to create its final shape. It is the more synthetic of the disciplines and aims at a unified result. Biblical theology is concerned to discern, trace, and describe the progress of divine revelation throughout the canon from its earliest to its latest expression. It logically precedes systematics and is the bridge between exegesis and systematics.
These two approaches to theology, if understood and defined correctly, are by no means mutually exclusive. A genuinely Christian systematic theology will find its doctrine in Scripture alone and will be concerned to limit its organizational categories to those inherent in Scripture. However, it still employs an essentially synthetic method in assessing the theological raw material with which it works. For example, its soteriology, sensitive as it is to Old Testament and New Testament differences, will search the Scriptures from beginning to end for data that together compose the doctrines of salvation. A Christian biblical theology, on the other hand, will trace the history of salvation a step at a time throughout the Bible, allowing the history to take whatever form appropriate at any given stage of revelation, recognizing how the doctrine developed as revelation progressed. Then and only then will biblical theology seek to organize and synthesize the results of its inquiry.
In an effort to distinguish between biblical and systematic theology, it is fallacious to pit the one against the other as though they were at odds, with one or the other being superior. They are simply two ways of viewing and expressing the same body of revelation. Yet much harm has been done by an inability to perceive their respective natures, priorities, and relationships. Those who practice only biblical theology sometimes fail to understand the proper integration of the strands of truth they discover in their longitudinal quest. They see the development of divine revelation but come short of understanding the fullness to which the process leads. They frequently end up with parallel strands of truth that are never systematized into a coherent pattern. Systematic theologians, however, are sometimes guilty of bringing epistemological frameworks to the biblical revelation that are either alien or extraneous to that revelation. They then force the material into conformity with their philosophical gridwork without considering the possibility that God’s truth is intractable and must therefore yield its own categories.4
Good theologians of both approaches will recognize their indebtedness to each other. The systematician understands that the material with which he works must be mined by the exegete and biblical theologian, and the biblical theologian knows that his work is not complete if he has merely located and traced the major theological themes of given portions of the Bible. Those themes must be integrated and woven together in such a way as to produce a self-consistent, harmonious, and balanced arrangement of divine revelation. This task, he concedes, is that of the systematic theologian.
Logically and methodologically, then, there must be a cooperative enterprise in doing God-honoring theology. The biblical theologian must work his way through the biblical test, inductively and progressively discovering its theological truth. In the process he may or may not discern patterns and paradigms, but he must make the effort to extract principles that provide the hard data for synthesis. That is, he must be diachronic, sensitive to the gradual but progressive revelation of God’s selfdisclosure. The systematic theologian must provide the capstone of the theological enterprise. He ideally refuses to read into any given text what is not there, builds off the principles by which the biblical theologian works (if not his product), and refuses to manufacture a philosophical strait jacket into which the data derived inductively must be squeezed.
1.
A THEOLOGY OF THE PENTATEUCH
EUGENE H. MERRILL*
INTRODUCTION
A theology of the Bible, or of any of its parts, must give careful consideration to the setting of the original composition—time, place, situation, and author—and to the matter of final canonical form and function.1 This is especially true of a theology of the Pentateuch, for it is universally regarded by both the Jewish and Christian traditions as being foundational to whatever else the Old and New Testaments say theologically. Attention to the background of the Pentateuch, in which such elements of setting are addressed, is of utmost importance.
The position of the Pentateuch at the beginning of every known arrangement of the biblical canon is in itself a confirmation of the premise that these five books are the fountainhead of theological inquiry.2 The very order of the books—Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy—is, according to every tradition, intrinsic to original Mosaic composition as well as final canonical shape.
A theology of the Pentateuch must, then, take cognizance of the historical circumstances in which it was created and, more important, the theological concerns that motivated both its divine and human origination, and its precise form and function. Until such prolegomena are understood, it is impossible to understand and correctly articulate the theological message of the writing of Moses.
HISTORICAL BACKGROUND
The Bible affirms (e.g., Ex. 17:14; 24:4; Num. 33:1–2; Deut. 31:9; Josh. 1:8; 2 Kings 21:8that the Pentateuch was the creation of Moses, the great Exodus liberator, who communicated to his fellow Israelites the revelation of God concerning Himself and His purposes for His recently redeemed people. This took place on the plains of
THE PENTATEUCH AS LITERATURE
The name Pentateuch reflects the size of the composition—it consists of five scrolls. A more accurate and informative term is used in the Jewish tradition itself, namely the Torah, which means “instruction.” This name suggests that the purpose of the Mosaic writings was to educate
The unfortunate translation of “law” for tôrāh gives the impression that the Mosaic writings are essentially legal texts. Such texts in the corpus are well recognized, but they by no means predominate. Genesis is narrative and genealogical for the most part. Exodus 1–19 is mainly narrative, with the remainder divided between “legal” prescription and its implementation. Leviticus is basically cultic instruction, legal in the sense of prescribing regulations for worship. Numbers is of mixed genre, most of it clearly narrative with only a few chapters devoted to law. Deuteronomy is cast in the form of major Mosaic addresses delivered to
Thus the Pentateuch is a collection of diverse writings. But this does not vitiate the traditional understanding of the collection as Torah, or instruction. By story, poem, genealogy, narrative, prescription, and exhortation the theological message is communicated with one single objective: that
ASSUMPTIONS IN A THEOLOGY OF THE PENTATEUCH
Though one might wish for a totally objective, unpredetermined approach to biblical theology, this is an impossibility, as all theologians freely confess.6 One can never come to his task with no preconceptions as to the shape and conclusions of his endeavor. Yet the goal is to engage in an inductive study of the literature so that it may yield its own categories and results. Even granting this as an indispensable methodological principle one still must make certain assumptions about the raw material under his purview and the stance from which he will examine it. The following assumptions undergird the present approach to the theology of the Pentateuch.
Assumptions about God. God exists and is unified, self- consistent, and ordered. It is clearly impossible to do anything other than a “history of
God has revealed Himself in Scripture. This revelation is unified, consistent with Himself, and systematic. If theology is to be done, it must be done with data revealed by God for it to claim any authenticity and authority. God’s self-revelation, moreover, was given in human terms, that is, it was communicated in such a way as to conform to human thought processes and verbal formulations.
God has a purpose for all He does and that purpose, granting its divine origination, must be noncontradictory, self-consistent, systematic, and knowable. This is not to say that all God’s purposes are intelligible to human beings or even are communicated to them but that those purposes incumbent on them must be so.7
Assumptions about revelation. The purpose of revelation is to reveal God and His purposes. The need or desire to communicate obviously presupposes the mechanism for communicating as far as God’s objectives are concerned. It is unthinkable that God has requirements for His creation that He would not reveal in meaningful terms.
Revelation must express the purpose of God propositionally. If all that is in view is the noun (i.e., God), it may be that one could glean something by general revelation alone, for “the heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands” (Ps. 19:1; Rom. 1:18–23). If, however, verbs (i.e., God’s purposes) are to be revealed, they must be clarified in verbal statements, for mere isolated acts and events—or even patterns of events in a historical continuum—are at worst meaningless and at best ambiguous. “Event” must be accompanied and interpreted by “word” if it is to revelatory.8
The revelation of purpose may be derived either inductively from the text (by abstraction of a principle or a theme) or deductively (from a purpose statement) or both. In fact, the two are mutually informing and must continually be held in tension. A purpose statement that cannot be sustained in light of the total biblical witness is of course an invalid theological starting point.
Assumptions about purpose. Creation must from the outset be conceded as integral to the purposes of God, for though He could have existed forever independently and yet with purpose, creation has taken place and with it an implied purpose. If purpose, then, is bound up with creation (or vice versa), the statement(s) of creation’s purpose should be in chronological and canonical proximity to the creation event itself. This naturally leads to the Pentateuch and specifically to the earliest portion of Genesis.
The statement(s) of purpose should be such that it can be validated by subsequent revelation as a whole, is adequate to accommodate the variety of biblical revelation, and is specific or restricted enough to make a meaningful statement about God (subject) and His purposes (predicate).
The statement(s) of purpose must suit the canonical structure of the entire Bible. Regardless of one’s view of inspiration and revelation, the present canonical shape of the Bible clearly reflects the theological stance of the communities that received and molded it under the direction of the Spirit of God.9 Again, therefore, because it stands at the head and source of the canonical tradition, one would expect Genesis to yield the fundamental statements of purpose.
Assumptions about theological method. Within the present canon, whose arrangements reflects broad theological method and concerns (namely, the Torah, the Prophets, the Writings, and the New Testament), one must attempt to discover chronological order so that the progress of revelation might be discerned and brought to the service of more narrow theological interests. In the case of the Pentateuch this is an easy matter because universal tradition attests to the priority of the Pentateuch and the canonical form places Genesis first.
Once the purpose statement (also now to be construed as the center) has been determined, one must read the biblical revelation in that light, a reading based on proper attention to (1) well-established principles of hermeneutics, (2) literary/rhetorical criticism, (3) form criticism, (4) historical/cultural background, and (5) detailed exegesis.
The purpose statement must then be reevaluated to see if it still meets the criteria listed in the above purpose section.
Proper method for the Christian requires that the New Testament be viewed in continuity with the Old Testament and that both Testaments be seen as mutually informing. This does not mean that one can read the New Testament back into the Old, but that one must recognize that the two Testaments are indivisibly parts of the same revelation of the one God and that nothing in the Old Testament can in any way contradict the revelation of the New.10
THE SEARCH FOR A CENTER
The foregoing discussion suggests that the revelation of Scripture is a unified, purposeful, self-consistent phenomenon reflecting the purposes of a self-consistent God who wishes to disclose His intentions to His creation. It has been argued that these intentions can be reduced to a statement to be expected at the beginning of the historical and canonical process. Unfortunately it is impossible here to trace that statement and its implications throughout the entire Bible because this chapter is concerned with the theology of the Pentateuch alone. But it is precisely in the Pentateuch that such a statement must first appear if the foregoing set of assumptions is to have any validity at all.
Though there may be an overarching, comprehensive statement of divine purpose (hereafter, center), there may be minor, secondary statements that are essential to the achieving of the one grand objective.11 The very occasion of the composition of the Pentateuch is a case in point. Clearly Moses prepared the written Torah as instruction on the origin, purpose, and destiny of the people
Exodus 19 and the theological center. The Sinai Covenant, made possible historically and practically by the miracle of the Exodus, is of central concern to the Old Testament. The text of that covenant is introduced in Exodus 20:1 and continues through 23:33, but its purpose is outlined in 19:4–6, a passage that is crucial to the understanding of the function of Israel and of the Sinaitic Covenant in biblical theology. It is so important that it could well be considered the central purpose statement concerning God’s election and redemption of
After rehearsing His chastening of
Many theologians view this complex of events itself as the primary focus of Old Testament theology.13 Because the bulk of the Old Testament revelation is concerned with
The answer is to be found in the very nature of priesthood. Whatever else might be said of the office, the fundamental notion that comes to mind in considering the ministry of the priest is that of mediation and intercession. A priest stands between God and a person (or persons) who is in need of making contact with God. So
If Exodus 19 is not a statement of ultimate theological purpose but only one outlining the role of
Genesis 1:26–28 as the theological center. Unquestionably the underlying purposes of God for man are bound up in His creation of the heavens and the earth, which provide the arena of His activity.14 One would naturally expect the Bible, as a historical and theological treatise, to commence its story with creation, the earliest possible event. If, however, there were theological concerns that transcended creation and its purposes, one could have every right to expect the inspired record to begin with these because the canonical shape is not always exclusively sensitive to chronological concerns. Therefore, the very priority of creation both historiographically and canonically should point to its theological centrality.
There are two complementary accounts of creation; Genesis 1, which is cosmic and universal in its scope; and Genesis 2, which is decidedly anthropocentric. This canonical structure alone suggests the climactic way the creation of man is viewed. He is the crowning glory of the creative process. This is clearly seen even in Genesis 1, for man is created last, on the sixth day of creation.
A mere description of the divine creative activity is not sufficient, however, to communicate the theological message involved, for there must be statements of motive to give the act intelligent and intelligible meaning. The fundamental question that must be asked of the creation accounts is, “So what?” Answers to this question are not long in coming. Following the creation of light, God said that it was good (Gen. 1:4). Similarly He endorsed the appearance of the dry land (v. 10), the emergence of plant life (v. 12), the placement of the heavenly bodies (v. 18), and the creation of marine and aerial life (v. 21) and of earthbound creatures (v. 25). The whole is summarized in verse 31: “God saw all that he had made, and it was very good.”
The judgment that all these things were “good” is of course a statement of purpose. It suggests that creation serves aesthetic ends at least.15 But aesthetics alone is an insufficient basis on which to build the eternal, divine objective. To see that objective in more concrete and specific terms one must ascertain the particular purposes attached to the creation of man, because it is man who is the image of God and for whom the rest of creation provides a setting.
This leads to Genesis 1:26–28, the first and foundational text to articulate the functional aspect of the creation of man. The formal, anthropological aspect is found in Genesis 2.
The first part of the statement of purpose is that man is made in the image and likeness of God (1:26a), a purpose reiterated as having been accomplished with the added nuance of gender distinction (v. 27). In line with recent scholarship, it is argued here that the translation of bƒṣalmēnū (“in our image”) and kidmūtenū (“according to our likeness”) ought to be “as our image”and“according to our likeness ” respectively.16 That is, man is not in the image of God, he is the image of God. The text speaks not of what man is like but of what he is to be and do. It is a functional statement and not one of essence.17 Just as images or statues represented deities and kings in the ancient Near East, so much so that they were virtually interchangeable,18 so man as the image of God was created to represent God Himself as the sovereign over all creation.
This bold metaphor is spelled out beyond question in Genesis 1:26b, which explains what it means for man to be the image of God: “Let them rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air, over the livestock, over all the earth, and over all creatures that move along the ground. ” The mandate to accomplish this follows in verse 28: “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”
The key words in this statement of purpose are the verbs“rule” (1:26, 28) and“subdue” (v. 28). The first verb appears in the jussive (“let them rule”) and imperative (“rule ye”) of the Hebrew rādāh (“have dominion, rule, dominate”).19 The second occurs also in the plural, the Hebrew verb being kābas̆ (“subdue, bring into bondage”).20 Both verbs carry the idea of dominion. Both may be traced back to the verbal root meaning “to tread down.” Hence, man is created to reign in a manner that demonstrates his lordship, his domination (by force if necessary) over all creation.
Two principal passages in the Old Testament provide glimpses of what human domination under God entails. The first is Genesis2:15 (cf. v. 5), 19–20, and the second is Psalm 8.
As noted earlier, Genesis 2 gives the account of the creation of man in which he appears as the climax of the creative process, almost its raison d’être. In this account, described in highly anthropomorphic terms, the Lord formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, making him a living being (v. 7). He then placed man in the garden “to work it and take care of it” (v. 15).This must be seen in light of verse 5, which points out that before the creation of man no shrub or plant had sprung up because there was as yet no rain and, more significantly, no man to “work the ground.” Clearly, then, a major purpose for the creation of man was that he should “work the ground.”21 Work by itself was not a curse; indeed it was the very essence of what it meant to be the image of God. To work the ground is one definition of what it means to have dominion.
A second definition may be found in Genesis 2:19–20, which states that man was given the responsibility of naming the animals. As is now well known, in the ancient Near East to name could be tantamount to exercising dominion.22 When Yahweh brought the animals to Adam “to see what he would name them,” He was in effect transferring from Himself to Adam the dominion for which man was created. This of course is perfectly in line with the objects of human dominion listed in the pivotal text of Genesis 1:26: fish, birds, livestock, and “all the creatures that move along the ground.”
The second major Old Testament passage that clarifies the meaning of man’s function as sovereign is Psalm 8. The entire hymn deserves detailed discussion but only two points can be made here. First, a clear reference to the imago dei is conveyed by verse 5: “You made Him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned Him with glory and honor.”As the NIV suggests in the footnote, “heavenly beings” may be translated “God” (Heb. ’ĕlōhı̂m). This in fact is the better translation in view of the well-established fact that this psalm is a commentary of Genesis 1:26–28. As God’s image and viceroy, man himself is a king crowned with glory and honor.
What that kingship means is clear from Psalm 8:6–7, where man has been appointed ruler (causative of mās̆al) over all creation, with everything “under his feet.” This image is reminiscent of the fundamental meaning of “have dominion” (rādāh) and “subdue” (kābas̆) in Genesis 1:28, namely, to tread upon. The objects of the dominion are exactly the same (though in different order) as those of the Genesis mandate: flocks and herds, beasts of the field, birds of the air, and fish of the sea (Ps. 8:7).
A THEOLOGY OF GENESIS
THE COVENANT MANDATE AND ESCHATOLOGY
If the purposes of God are bound up in His act of creation and dominion, one would expect these twin themes to prevail throughout the biblical revelation, and indeed they do. The devastating interdiction of sin necessitated adjustment of the implementation of those purposes, however, so that the ability of man to fulfill the terms of the mandate was seriously impaired and required modification. But what became submerged in the course of human history will reemerge in the eschaton when man’s full covenant-keeping capacity will be restored. This is crystal clear from an examination of several passages in the prophets.
Nowhere is the restoration to the pristine conditions of the original covenant statement more brilliantly unfolded than in Isaiah. In Isaiah 11:6–9, a messianic passage especially oriented to the millennial age, the prophet predicts the following:
The wolf will live with the lamb,
the leopard will lie down with the goat,
The calf and the lion and the yearling together;
and a little child will lead them.
The cow will feed with the bear,
their young will lie down together,
and the lion will eat straw like the ox.
The infant will play near the hole of the cobra,
and the young child put his hand into the viper’s nest.
They will neither harm nor destroy
on all my holy mountain,
For the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea.
The docility of the animals, particularly their noncarnivorous nature, clearly speaks of the paradisaical conditions before man’s Fall (cf. Gen. 9:2–3). Moreover, the verb used to describe the leading of animals by a child in Isaiah 11:6 (nāhag) is one that speaks of leadership or headship,23 a most appropriate synonym for dominion.
Another remarkable passage is Hosea 2:18. There the prophet speaks of day when Yahweh “will make a covenant for them [i.e.,
THE COVENANT MANDATE AND THE LIFE OF JESUS
The apostle Paul described Jesus as the Second Adam, an epithet associated with His salvific and redemptive work and with His role as the “first Man” of a regenerate community. “For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive” (1 Cor. 15:22; cf.1 Cor. 15:45; Rom. 5:12–17). Although this redemptive aspect of Jesus as the Second Adam cannot be emphasized too much, it may be instructive also to view the life of Jesus as the life of the Second Adam, and to note that Jesus came not only to die but also to live. And the life He lived demonstrated by its power and perfection all that God created Adam and all men to be. In other words, Jesus fulfilled in His life the potentialities of unfallen Adam just as by His death He restored all mankind to those potentialities.
A few examples from the gospels must suffice. On one occasion Jesus and His disciples were crossing the
A similar incident may suggest even closer affinities to the domination over creation enjoined by the Adamic Covenant. Matthew 14:22–23 (cf. Mark 6:45–51; John 6:16–21) relates the story of the disciples who again were in the grip of the angry sea when suddenly they saw Jesus walking on the water. Emboldened by this, Peter asked Jesus to allow him to walk on the waves as well. Successful at first, Peter lost his confidence and began to sink and only the strong arm of the Lord preserved him.
Certain features stand out and give evidence of theological themes and antecedents that provide a rationale for the event. First, there is the concept of the chaotic waters that must be dominated, a concept seen in the narrative of Matthew 8 was well. Here, however, Jesus did not speak to the waves; instead he trod them underfoot. This is in keeping with the fundamental idea of rādāh and kābas̆ in Genesis 1:28, namely, to tread or trample on. Second, Peter himself apparently saw in the mastery of the elements by Jesus a warrant for his own mastery. For him to imagine that he could emulate Jesus as God would be nothing short of blasphemy. To emulate Him as the Second Adam would, however, be only what God intended him and all men to do.
A third example of Jesus’ lordship over creation is that of the extraction of the
A fourth incident is that of Jesus riding into
SIN AND THE INTERRUPTION OF COVENANT PURPOSE
The origin of sin is a mystery that remains undisclosed in biblical revelation. What is clear is that sin is a reality and that it followed hard on the creation of man and his covenant between God and man, and between them and all other creatures. The remainder of the biblical story is the plan of God whereby that alienation can be overcome and His original purposes for man—that he have dominion over all things—can be reestablished.
The God-man relationship was of a sovereign-vassal nature. God had created man for the express purpose of conveying to him the status and function of image, that is, man was to represent God in his dominion over all creation. Such a privilege entailed also responsibility, chief of which was unqualified loyalty and obedience. In a sinless world it is impossible for obedience to be tested and authenticated, for a sinless world is one with no options. This perhaps explains the existence of Satan, who appears as the antagonist and accuser, the one who gives man a choice of sovereigns and courses of action.25 His role as alternative lord is already presupposed by the limitation placed on the man in the garden. “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die” (Gen. 2:17).
This prohibition is the reverse side of the statement of covenant purpose. Positively man was to “be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it” (Gen. 1:28). Negatively he was to refrain from one part of that creation, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Whatever that tree might convey by its fruit, it symbolized the principle that in covenant-keeping there are “shall nots” as well as “shells.” To have dominion over all things is not a blanket endorsement for man to do as he will. Human dominion must be exercised within the framework of the permissions and prohibitions of the King of whom man is only the image.
The tree serves, therefore, as the testing point of man’s covenant fidelity. To partake of it is to demonstrate false dominion, a hubris in which man has become in some mysterious sense like God. “The man,” God says,“has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil” (Gen. 3:22). By attempting to reverse roles and assert his independence of limitations, man became a marred and defective image, one who no longer could represent his sovereign in an unhampered and perfect way. Sin had introduced an alienation that affected not only the God-man relationship but also made the man a dying creature who could never hope to fulfill the covenant mandate as long as he remained in that condition.
The alienation extended also in a horizontal direction: man became alienated from woman and vice versa. The covenant statement had said, “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them” (Gen. 1:27). Man is male and female and both genders are the image of God. Both men and women, therefore, represent God on the earth and are the agents through whom He dominion.26
This statement of covenant purpose is qualified by the account of covenant function in Genesis 2, which delineates further the male-female relationship. The Lord Himself observed that “it is not good for the man to be alone,” so He determined to “make a helper suitable to him” (v. 18). This is followed by the “making” of a woman from man’s side and the pun to the effect that she is woman (’is̆s̆āh) because she was taken out of man (’ı̂s̆) (v. 23).
No idea of superiority/inferiority with respect to the sexes can be found here. That woman was taken from man no more implies the inferiority of woman to man than the taking of man from the ground (’ādām from ’ădāmāh) implies the inferiority of man to the ground. Nor does the term “helper” connote subordination. This is clear from the context in which the need is for man, like the animals, to have a mate, a partner who would complement or correspond to him. Man as male is only half of what God wants him to be as the image of God. It is, moreover, important to note that the Hebrew term for “helper,” ’ezer, is frequently used of the Lord Himself as man’s Helper (Deut. 33:7; Ps. 33:20; 115:9–11; 146:5; Hos. 13:9). A helper then is not necessarily dominant or subordinate but one who meets a need in the life and experience of someone else.27
Sin, however, radically altered the man-woman relationship just as it did that between God and His creation. The woman, having been tempted by Satan, yielded and encouraged her husband to join her in her violation of covenant prohibition. As a result, Satan, the woman, and the man fell under divine condemnation and became subject to a covenant that now incorporated stipulations appropriate to a universe no longer in willing compliance to its Sovereign. The old demand to“be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it” was still in effect, but it could hereafter be carried out only partially by unredeemed humanity and imperfectly even by those God would restore to Himself in saving grace. Sin and history must run their course before the perfect conditions of covenant fulfillment can come to pass.
Meanwhile, it is important to explore the man-woman relationship and God- man relationship in their functional aspects as a result of the alienation caused by sin. The covenant statement relative to these matters is preceded by the glorious redemptive promise that though the offspring of Satan would strike the heel of the Descendant of the woman that Descendant would in turn crush the head of the evil line (Gen. 3:15). The messianic character of this promise is almost universally recognized, though, of course, the specificity of the woman’s offspring cannot be established in this text alone.
More immediately relevant to the question of male-female relationship within the context of covenant fulfillment in a fallen world is Genesis 3:16. There the woman is assigned the curse of painful child-bearing, and there it is said that “your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.” The setting of this statement is human society in a fallen world. Whatever the curse might involve, it is not relevant to the original status of man and woman nor indigenous to their creation as coregents of the dominions of the Lord. Nor will it endure beyond the confines of history, for the eschaton ultimately is a restoration of all things as they were and as they were intended.
The problematic phrase is that in which the man is said to move beyond the role of coregent with his wife to that of lord over her. That this is not merely predictive of what the future would hold but prescriptive of the man-woman functional relationship from that time forward is clear from apostolic teaching on the matter. To cite one or two texts only, Paul forbade women to speak in the churches because they “must be in submission, as the Law says” (1 Cor. 14:34). To the same church he pointed out that “the head of every man is Christ, and the head of the woman is man, and the head of Christ is God” (1 Cor. 11:3; cf. Eph. 5:23–24; Titus 2:5; 1 Pet. 3:1; etc.). One would not, of course, gather from this that God (the Father) is superior in essence to Christ but only in function. Likewise all that is being avowed by the apostle is that man is superior to woman in a functional sense, in man’s role in the hierarchical structure of kingdom domination.28
More difficult still is the phrase “your desire will be for your husband” (Gen. 3:16). The Hebrew construction of the verse reflects poetic parallelism in which the first line of the couplet carries the same meaning as the second. The second (“and he will rule over you”) requires that the “desire” of the woman for her husband also convey the idea of domination. The word translated “desire” (tĕs̆ugāh ) occurs also in Genesis 4:7, which says that sin “desired to have you [Cain], but you must master it.” Interestingly the same Hebrew verb translated “master” (mās̆al ) here was translated “rule” in Genesis 3:16. This suggests that the woman will turn to the man for her dominion and that his rule over her will come to pass.29 As a rule, then, the headship of the man will be the pattern as long as the fallen world of history remains.
The alienation brought about by sin not only affected the God-man and the man-woman relationship; it also disrupted the harmony between man and creation. These three relationships may be described as the vertical-above, the horizontal, and the vertical-below, respectively. Man was created subordinate to God, coordinate to the woman, and dominant over all other creatures. He had been charged with the task of “working” the ground (Gen. 2:15), bringing it and all other things into his service and under his dominion as the vice-regent of God.
Now, however, sin has intruded, and fallen man has forfeited his untrammeled mastery of his environment. He had listened to his wife, thereby submitting to her authority, so now the ground he was created to work would be resistant to his husbandry. His toil now would be painful, the earth would produce worthless and annoying brambles and weeds, and the ground from which he was taken and over which he had been set would conquer him as he was laid beneath its soil in death (Gen. 3:19).
The immediate repercussion was the permanent exile of the man and the woman from the garden, an exile that symbolized their fallenness and exclusion from the privileges of the covenant stipulations for which they had been created. Life outside the garden spoke of life apart from the intimacy of relationship with God, with one another, and with the created order. Such an exile was a repudiation of all the purposes of God for creation, however, so a means of undoing the curse of sin and ultimately its very existence must be set in motion.
COVENANT PURPOSE AND SOTERIOLOGY
The curse of alienation requires an act of reconciliation, and it is this act, both as event and process, that is the definition of biblical salvation. 30 Soteriology, then, is obviously a major theme of biblical theology, though it clearly is not the central motif. This is evident in that salvation implies deliverance from something to something and is thus a functional rather than a teleological concept. In other words, salvation leads to a purpose that has been frustrated or interrupted and is not a purpose in itself.
Many scholars’ attempts to see salvation as a central theme even in the creation account are not convincing because such attempts draw most of their support from pagan mythology in which creation occurs as a result of the subjugation of primeval chaotic waters by the gods.31There is no hint of such a thing in the Old Testament except in passages where such mythic themes may be used as poetic illustration of Yahweh’s victory over His enemies, who are at times likened to chaotic and destructive floods.
The earliest reference to salvation is obviously identified with its earliest need, namely, in response to the disruption of covenant purpose occasioned by man’s sinful rebellion against his God. Genesis 3:15 describes the ultimate conquest of evil by the seed of woman. Also relevant, as has been noted throughout the history of interpretation, is the clothing of man and woman with animal skins provided graciously by the Lord. Although one must be cautious about unwarranted theological conclusions based on such a laconic text, there can be no question that the covering of nakedness, first perceived after man’s sin, cannot be achieved by the fig leaves on his own making (3:7) but requires initiative (3:21).32
The need for salvation is a persistent theme of biblical history, for that history is one of continuing and increasing spiritual and moral defection. For every act of divine grace there is a human counteract of sin. Following every expression of God’s covenant purposes there is a human word and deed of rebellion against it. Created to be the image of God and thus to manifest the sovereignty of God in all areas of life, man has become a marred and misshapen vestige of the image who, without the intervention of redemptive and reconciling grace, is unable to serve the purposes for which he was created.
This is seen in such examples as the murder of Abel by his brother Cain (Gen. 4:1–15), an act of brutality followed by the vengeful boast of Lamech, the descendant of Cain, that whoever attempted to avenge Cain would himself be avenged many times over (vv. 23–24). This narrative shows not only the continuing horizontal alienation of man from man but a proud assertion by Lamech that the preservation of Cain by the Lord (v. 15) is inadequate and its perceived inadequacy must be remedied by human intervention.
Similarly the intermarriage of the sons of God and the daughters of men was indicative of a waywardness that prompted the Lord to comment that man’s wickedness was great and that “every inclination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all the time” (Gen. 6:5). Contextually it seems that intermarriage speaks of an intercourse between angelic and human beings, an illegitimate bridging of divinely segregated orders of creation that produced the monstrous “Nephilim,” the“heroes of old, men of renown” (v. 4).33 Again man, the image of God who was commissioned to rule over all things, placed himself in subjection to demonic powers over which he should have been master.
NOAH AS A “SECOND ADAM”
Man’s sin in Noah’s day was grievous and painful to the Lord, who regretted He had created man in the first place. He therefore determined to bury man beneath the waters of the sea just as He had buried Adam beneath the surface of the ground. The chaotic waters that had yielded submissively to the hand of the Creator so that dry land appeared would be unleashed now by the Creator as an instrument of His vindictive wrath. But even so the original creative purposes would not be stymied and curtailed because God would begin again with another Adam, another image who would maintain the mandate of sovereignty. This “Adam” of course was none other than Noah.
Noah, though righteous and blameless, was nonetheless chosen not because of his upright condition but as an object of the elective grace of God (Gen. 6:8). That election clearly had salvific overtones—he was saved from the Flood—but beyond that and most fundamentally it was election to the covenant arrangement for which Adam had been created. Noah was to be the beginner of a new undertaking of covenant commitment, a new vice-regent through whom the sovereign purposes of God could find fruition.
Beyond question, this is the meaning of Genesis 6:18: “But I will establish my covenant with you.” “My covenant”can refer only to something antecedent and the only possible antecedent is that covenant implied by Genesis 1:26–28.34 The old Adamic Covenant would be established (hēqɩ̂m ) with Noah, and all that the Lord had entrusted to and required of Adam would devolve on Noah and his descendants.
When at last the watery judgment was over, Yahweh articulated the significance and specifications of the covenant terms. This was prefaced by the solemn promise that never again would Yahweh “curse the ground” because of man nor would He destroy all living creatures so long as human history ran its course (Gen. 8:21–22). The Bible goes on, however, to attest to an ultimate destruction and renewal of the earth by fire, a destruction that will mark the end of time and the commencement of the eternal and uncursed kingdom of God (2 Pet. 3:3–7).
The covenant text itself is spelled out in Genesis 9:1–7, a unit bracketed by the familiar Adamic Covenant statement “Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the earth” (vv. 1, 7). The next part of the command to Adam—“subdue it [the earth]”and “rule over the fish,” and so forth—is, however, radically different in its Noahic form because now the earth was cursed and alienation had fractured the harmonious structures of sovereignty that attended the pre-Fall creation. “Subdue” and “rule” now have come to be expressed as follows: “The fear and dread of you will fall upon all the beasts of the earth and all the birds of the air, upon every creature that moves along the ground, and upon all the fish of the sea” (v. 2). The domination by Adam (exemplified by Jesus) that was effected by the spoken word alone must now be enforced by man’s superior intellectual and rational powers. Voluntary subservience in the animal world has been replaced by coercion, and man and animal live in uneasy coexistence. So violent is the bifurcation and so drastic the effects of the Fall that animals not only must submit by force to the dominion of man but they may be slain by him to provide his nourishment (v. 3).35
The line must be drawn again at the horizontal level, however, for man cannot take the life of his fellow any more now under Noah than he could before under Adam. The reason is clearly stated: “for in the image of God has God made man” (9:6). That fundamental fact has never changed, the sin of the Fall notwithstanding. To attack and to destroy man is tantamount to attacking and attempting to destroy the sovereign Himself, of whom even fallen man is the image.
The text of the Noahic Covenant is followed by the promise of the Lord that the earth will never again be destroyed by a flood (Gen. 9:9–11) and by the pledge of that promise, the rainbow. The rainbow, in fact, became the sign of the covenant itself, a sign that far transcends in its significance the promise of preservation from flood and that speaks of the intactness of the dominion mandate given to mankind from the beginning.36 He who sees the rainbow can rest assured that the purposes of God from creation are in full effect and will some day reach their predestined, perfect accomplishment.
The history of the covenant transmission following Noah may be traced in the Genesis genealogies; in fact, the very purpose of the genealogies is to disclose the ever-narrowing focus of covenant development that finally finds its center in Abraham and his descendants.37 Like Adam, Noah had three sons, only one of whom was the agent of covenant descent. Seth, the third son of Adam, was progenitor of Noah, a “second Adam.” Shem, the third son of Noah, was likewise chosen to be the heir of the covenant promise. His genealogy (Gen. 10:21-31; Gen. 11:10-26) included Eber, the patronymic of the Hebrew people, and Peleg, in whose days the earth was divided (10:25), and culminated in Abram, the youngest of the three sons of Terah.
THE
The importance of the
What is fundamentally at work in the story of the angels and men is the demonic attempt to frustrate the purpose of God that man should “be fruitful and increase in number” (Gen. 1:28), for the narrative begins by observing that the intermarriage commenced precisely “when man began to increase in number” (6:1). Whatever else the “sons of God” and “daughters of men” might mean, their illicit relationship resulted in the crippling of that aspect of the mandate. Perhaps they had begun to produce a race of monsters genetically incapable of reproduction, thus leading to an end of humanity.
The
Not without importance, because it is common to both stories, is the reference to the “heroes of old, men of renown” (Gen. 6:4) and to Nimrod, “a mighty warrior on the earth” (10:8). The connection between Nimrod and the
Clearly then these two stories of covenant violation point to the same root problem. Man, charged as the image of God to be His vice-regent on the earth, was dissatisfied with that high and holy calling and rebelled against his sovereign with the end in view of supplanting His lordship and assuming it for himself. He wanted to be like God or, to put it in the biblical language itself, “the man has now become like one of Us” (Gen. 3:22) and “nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them” (11:6).
The divine response to this insubordination took the form of judgment (the Flood and the dispersion) and covenant renewal (with Noah and with Abraham).
THE ABRAHAMIC COVENANT
The tenor of the biblical narrative suggests that the call of Abram to covenant service was as much an act of divine elective grace as was the creation of Adam and the choice of Noah, his two most illustrious covenant forebears. He was told to leave
Though Abram’s opportunity to participate in the covenant privileges was obviously conditioned on his leaving
Thus the Abrahamic Covenant, along with its Adamic and Noahic predecessors, must be viewed as an unconditional grant made by Yahweh to His servant Abram, a grant that was to serve a specific and irrevocable function. Much more expansive and variegated than the other two statements, the Abrahamic, nevertheless, is built squarely on them in all its essential elements. Yet there is a dimension that goes beyond the earlier covenant mandate, for the Abrahamic Covenant not only reiterates in its own way the Genesis injunction to “be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it,” but it also incorporates the strategy by which that purpose might be achieved.
This is immediately apparent in Genesis 12:1–3, the initial and programmatic statement of the covenant. Abram was told that he would be made into a great nation that would be the means by which Yahweh would bless all peoples on earth. God’s concern was still clearly universalistic, but the means of addressing that concern was very specific—the nation of Abram.
Subsequently Abram learned that the land in and from which the reconciling people would minister to the world was
When after the passing of many years the promise of seed had not yet been fulfilled, Yahweh appeared once more to Abram with a remarkable exposition and amplification of the original promise. He was to become the father not only of a nation but of many nations (hence the name change to Abraham) and kings (Gen. 17:4–6). The covenant, once more affirmed as eternal, would be certified by the sign of circumcision, a physical token of the special status of the covenant people.
Careful attention to the major themes of these various expressions of the covenant with Abraham reveals that they affirm in every respect the covenant mandate of Genesis 1 :26–28, with the special proviso that Abraham and his descendants were to serve as models of, as well as witnesses to, the implementation on the earth. That is, the Abrahamic nation would become a microcosm of the
The first part of this promise—that Abraham’s offspring would become a great nation (Gen. 12:2; 15:5; 17:4–5)—is a reflection of the command to mankind in 1:28, “Be fruitful and increase in number.” The sovereignty aspect is clearly seen in references to the kings who were to emerge in the line of Abraham (17:6,16). These kings would exercise dominion over that nation (and others) that God would raise up as a model of His creation purposes. Thus a direct connection to 1:28 again must be admitted: “fill the earth and subdue it [and] rule.”
The second part of the promise finds no antecedent in the Genesis 1 mandate but is nonetheless to be understood in reference to it. This is the role the Abrahamic nation was to play as the touchstone in reference to which the peoples of the earth are to be blessed or cursed: “I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curse you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you”40 (Gen.12:3; Gen 18:18; cf.Gal. 3:8). This suggests a mediatorial function for this chosen nation, a responsibility to stand between the sovereign God of heaven and earth and His fallen creation and to minister His salvific grace.
This dual aspect of the Abrahamic Covenant must be kept carefully in view if the centrality of the creation mandate to biblical theology is to find consistent validation throughout the biblical revelation. To understand the covenant as only a continuation of the Adamic-Noahic is to deny
Transmission of the Abrahamic Covenant continued as it had begun, by divine elective grace. Isaac, son of Abraham and Sarah’s old age, was chosen rather than Ishmael (Gen. 17:18–19). To him was given almost verbatim the same promises and privileges enjoyed by his father (26:3–4, Gen. 24). And to him also would be given a son who would inherit the covenant responsibility.
This son was Jacob, younger son of Isaac and Rebekah. And so Jacob too, like Isaac, was chosen in contradiction to the norms of filial succession. Before his birth it was said of Jacob that he would rule his older brother (Gen. 25:23), a promise that eventually came to pass with
Tokens of the nature and function of the Abrahamic Covenant, the full expression of which came to pass only after the Exodus deliverance and Sinaitic Covenant, may be found throughout the patriarchal narratives of Genesis and indeed may be the principal thrust of those narratives. Attention first may be addressed to the significance of land.
Land is essential to any meaningful definition of dominion and nationhood. The very creation of the heavens and the earth, in fact, was to provide a locus in which the reigning purposes of God for mankind would be carried out. The Garden of Eden then became the microcosmic expression of kingdom territory, the place where God dwelt on earth in a unique way and where He had fellowship with His image, His vice-regent. This is surely the background against which the eschatological descriptions of the eternal kingdom as a paradisal garden find their source.
The violent disruption and alienation occasioned by sin resulted in man’s expulsion from the garden, but it did not terminate either the Adamic mandate or its need for a geographical arena in which to function. Adam had been told that though the center of his covenant activity was the garden, he was to move beyond that narrow base and fill the earth with his descendants. The garden, then, was the hub but not the exclusive realm of man’s existence. It bespoke the divine intention to inhabit certain places that by His very presence would then be holy, but it did not suggest that He was limited by them.
With this in mind, it becomes easier to understand the importance of the land promises attached to the Abrahamic Covenant. The patriarch was told to “go to the land I will show you” (Gen. 12:1). Having arrived in
The promise of multiplication of descendants also is part and parcel of the Abrahamic Covenant and is in fulfillment of the original command to“be fruitful and increase in number.” Just as the patriarchal seed was to be as numerous as the stars (Gen. 15:5), the dust (13: 16), and the sand of the seashore (22:17; 32:12), so the whole earth would be overspread by humanity in accord with the purpose of God.
Evidence of the twin problems (and blessings) of land and population is seen early on in the struggle between Abraham and
The third element of the patriarchal covenant—that Abraham’s seed would be the occasion of blessing or cursing of the nations—also may be traced in the historical account. As noted, this functional aspect of the covenant corresponds to the mandate to “fill the earth and subdue it” and to rule over all things.
Patriarchal dominion and intercessory ministry are clear from Genesis 12. Pharaoh “treated Abram well for [Sarah’s] sake” (12:16), and yet Yahweh inflicted Pharaoh with all kinds of maladies for Sarah’s sake (v. 17). In the account of the kings of the east, Abraham prevailed (14:13–16) because of divine intervention (v. 20). In his encounter with Yahweh at Mamre, Abraham interceded on behalf of
The Philistine Abimelech also came to know the alternation of cursing and blessing from his contact with Abraham (Gen. 20:3, 7, 17). He recognized that God was with Abraham (21:22), and he benefited from the friendship the two of them solemnized by covenant (21:27–34). Later on Abimelech came to know Isaac and envied him for his success and prosperity (26:12–17). Wherever Isaac dug wells he found water, the refreshment of which was enjoyed also by the Philistines.
The Jacob stories are rich in allusion to the blessing that was possible through friendly association with the patriarch. Laban, devious to the end, had to confess that Yahweh had blessed him on account of Jacob (Gen.30:27). Jacob himself enriched his brother, Esau, for Yahweh had blessed him beyond measure (33:11). Jacob’s son Joseph clearly was the source of blessing for
GENESIS IN THEOLOGICAL RETROSPECT
The book of Genesis, written presumably on the eve of
A THEOLOGY OF EXODUS
THE EXODUS AS ROYAL ELECTION
The choice of
That this is the intent of the canonical structure may be seen in a careful perusal of the early chapters of Exodus, which are replete with allusions to this very order of events. The Hebrew people, until the
While Moses was in Midianite exile, the king of
On the eve of Moses’ departure for Egypt, Yahweh appeared again and instructed Moses to tell Pharaoh that “Israel is my firstborn son” and that His son must be set free of Egyptian dominion or Pharaoh himself would suffer the loss of his own eldest son (Ex. 5:22–23). This bold language of kinship hints at an elective, adoptive relationship that goes beyond the promise of patriarchal seed, as glorious as that was.42 Israel then is not only a nation among nations, set apart by virtue of her descent from Abraham, but also a nation distinct and apart from others because she is the very firstborn of God. Adoption is still only a term of relationship and not of function.
Further evidence of this bifurcation between sonship and servanthood appears in the second grand revelation to Moses—the one of God as Yahweh, in Exodus 6:29. Here the Lord repeated the names of the patriarchs. He said that to them He was preeminently El Shaddai but now was known as Yahweh. He was the ground of the redemptive promise—the Almighty One; but now as Yahweh He was its effecter. The need now was not for a promise of deliverance but for the act itself.
Thus, the Lord said, “I have remembered My covenant,” and as Yahweh He said, “I will bring you out,” “I will free you from being slaves [and] will redeem you,”and, “I will take you as my own people, and I will be your God” (Ex. 6:5–7). Of crucial importance is the language of redemption that would make of
EXODUS 19:4–6 AND COVENANT SERVANTHOOD
Without doubt Exodus 19:4–6 is the most theologically significant text in the book of Exodus, for it is the linchpin between the patriarchal promises of the sonship of
The passage begins with a review of the historical process by which
Before that is addressed, however, it is important to note briefly (for now) the instrument by which the new relationship will be effected, namely, the so-called Sinaitic (or Mosaic) Covenant. Yahweh revealed to Moses and the people that “if you obey me fully and keep my covenant then out of all nations you will be my treasured possession” (19:5). This is a remarkably striking avowal for many reasons. First, it is clear that the covenant in view was conditional or had at least some conditional elements. This stands in stark contrast both to the Genesis covenants, which were generically and theologically unconditional grants, and to the establishment of
Second,
That purpose emerges in Exodus 19:6: “you will be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.” As many scholars have noted, there is a poetic balance in the passage45 in which “out of all nations you will be my treasured possession” (sĕgullāh mikkol-hâ‘ammı̂m),“a kingdom of priests” (mamleket kōhănı̂m), and a “holy nation” (gôy qādôs̆) are virtually synonymous and mutually interpretive. That is,
THE SINAI COVENANT TEST
The conditional nature of the covenant offered by Yahweh (Ex. 19:4–6) and accepted by the people (19:8) is evident beyond any doubt by the form of the covenant text itself. This document, consisting of Exodus 20:1–23:33, has for many years now been identified as a sovereign-vassal treaty text analogous to political instruments attested to all over the ancient Near East from Old Akkadian to Neo-Assyrian times.46 Most particularly the Sinaitic form resembles that of documents recovered from the New Kingdom Hittite capital city of
Standard in these treaties was an initial preamble statement identifying the parties involved in the covenant arrangement and, in the Hittite versions, doing so in grandiloquent and exaggerated terms in reference to the king. The preamble in the biblical text is Exodus 20:2a, a statement incomparably sublime in its simplicity. All that is said is, “[I] am the Lord your God.” There is no need here for the heaping up of platitudes and honorifics, for the majesty and infinite power of the great King is inherent in the covenant name itself and in His elective, redeeming work on
This leads to the second element of the covenant form, the historical prologue. This generally consisted of a lengthy discourse concerning the relationship between the Hittite sovereign and his ancestors and the vassal ruler and his ancestors. It presented the former as a beneficent protector who acted unselfishly on behalf of his weaker friend. It frequently emphasized that the protector’s grace was extended despite the waywardness and disloyalty of the vassal. The prologue was designed to establish the historical basis and framework on and within which the covenant relationship could be successfully undertaken.
The biblical account is again startlingly concise and to the point: “I … brought you out of
The third section of a sovereign-vassal treaty was the stipulation section, which on occasion was subdivided between a general set of requirements and one that outlined specific and detailed requirements. Frequently the latter would be tantamount to amendments to or explanations of the principles embodied in the general stipulations.
This is the case in the Sinaitic model, for Exodus 20:3–17 (the “Ten Commandments”) contains the general stipulation clauses, whereas 20:22–23:33 (the “Book of the Covenant”) corresponds to the detailed exposition or specific stipulation section. This distinction is clear from the interruption of the document itself between 20:17 and 20:23 and also from the technical terms used later on to describe the respective parts. Exodus 24:3 points out that Moses told the people “all the Lord’s words and laws.” “Words” is a translation of the Hebrew dĕbārı̂m, a term used elsewhere to describe the Ten Commandments, whereas “laws” renders mis̆pātı̂m, regularly used to speak of specific statutes. The relationship of these two stipulation sections will be explored in detail later on.
The fourth division, provision for the deposit of the document and for its periodic public reading, lies outside the Exodus covenant text per se. In fact, only the deposit of the text is mentioned here, though the Deuteronomy version includes also a requirement for public reading (Deut. 6:4–9). The importance of the placing of the covenant document within the Tabernacle (and later the Temple), the earthly residence of Yahweh, may be seen, however, in the Ark of the Covenant’s being the first article of “furniture” listed in the instructions for Tabernacle construction (Ex. 25:10–22). It was a chest of acacia wood that served as both a receptacle for the Sinaitic Covenant text and a symbolic throne on which Yahweh the Sovereign could sit in regal splendor among His people.
Virtually every sovereign-vassal treaty incorporated a list of deities before whom the solemn oaths of mutual fidelity were sworn. These “witnesses” could not, of course, be invoked in the case of the biblical covenants, for there were no gods but Yahweh and no higher powers to whom appeal could be made in the event of covenant violation. The counterpart of this is not lacking, however, for the ceremony of covenant-making described in Exodus 24 clearly includes “witnesses” to the transaction. These are in the form of the altar, which represented Yahweh, and the twelve pillars, which represented the twelve tribes. Although there is no explicit word to the effect that these objects were witnesses as well as representations, the use of inanimate objects in that capacity elsewhere certainly allows for that possibility here.47
The sixth and last sine qua non of vassal treaty form was the recitation of curses and blessings that would attend the vassal’s disobedience and obedience respectively. Again these are lacking in the Sinaitic document itself and even in its literary proximity. Such a list does occur, however, in Leviticus 26 where, in clearly covenantal language, blessing is promised to the nation for obedience to the “decrees” (ḥăqqɩ̂m) and “commands” (miṣwôt) (v. 3) and curse is threatened for disobedience. The “blessing section” (vv. 2–13) is predicated on the covenant formula of Exodus 20:2: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt so that you would no longer be slaves to the Egyptians” (Lev. 26:13). Its central thrust, however, ties into the ancient Abrahamic Covenant: “I will look on you with favor and make you fruitful and increase your numbers, and I will keep my covenant with you” (26:9). The blessing for covenant obedience, then, is the fulfillment of the Abrahamic Covenant expectations for
The “curse section” (Lev. 26:14–39) associates curse with covenant violation (v. 15), an act of rebellion that reverses the promises of fertility, prosperity, and security in the land. Continuing unrepentance would at last bring deportation of the people and desolation of the land, a reverse of the Exodus event itself by which the servant people of Yahweh became slaves of another lord.
That the curses and blessings of Leviticus 26 are part and parcel of the Sinaitic treaty text, which in the strict sense is limited to Exodus 20–23, is established by the last verse of the chapter. As a summary statement that includes not only Exodus 20–23 but also the remainder of Exodus and Leviticus 1–26, the observation is made that “these are the decrees (ḥuqqɩ̂m), the laws (mis̆pătı̂m) and the regulations (tôrôt) that the Lord established on Mount Sinai between Himself and the Israelites through Moses” (Lev. 26:46).
By its very form as well as language the Sinai Covenant is a compact in the mold of a sovereign-vassal treaty. It thus differs from the Adamic-Noahic-Abrahamic Covenant(s) in that respect, though it functions in continuity with and fulfillment of them. It is the vehicle by which
How
Having established the nature of
A further observation is that the shorter, general stipulation section is akin to a “constitution” to which the longer set of stipulations relates as a body of amendments or, better, examples of specific application. So each of the Ten Commandments finds elaboration in the ensuing Book of the Covenant, with the result that the principles are fleshed out with precise reference to practical, everyday life.
THE COVENANT AND THE TEN COMMANDMENTS
It is impossible here to undertake detailed exegesis of the verses that make up the Decalogue (Ex. 20:3–17), nor is that necessary because their fullest meaning derives from their canonical situation as covenant stipulation. It is with that setting in mind that the following observations are made.
The first commandment. This first commandment directly addresses the heart of the relationship presupposed by the sovereign vassal treaty. Yahweh, by virtue of His election and saving deliverance of His people from another lord (
The second commandment. This precept (vv. 4–6) prohibits the representation of Yahweh by any kind of idol or likeness, for to do so is to limit the transcendent and ineffable God and to confuse the Creator with His creation. To bow down and to worship (lit. “to serve”) such an image constitutes failure to recognize and respond properly to the sovereignty of the Lord. The motive for obedience of this requirement is twofold and is expressed in the form of an abbreviated curse-and-blessing formula. Those who practice idolatry are the “haters” of Yahweh (v. 5) whereas those who do not are His “lovers”(v. 6). In covenant context these verbs are most instructive, for “to hate” means to reject and “to love” means to choose.52 Idolators, by their very act of idolatry, reject the true God as He has chosen to disclose Himself and choose instead a figment of their own imagination. On the other hand, those who love (choose) Him, that is, who obey Him (v. 6), become the recipients of His reciprocal love, His ḥesed. Loyalty to Yahweh on the part of His servant people will bring the response of loyal and unfailing commitment to them.
The third commandment. The third commandment connects the name of Yahweh—an extension of His very being—with Yahweh Himself. The “misuse” of the divine name (v. 7) is tantamount to sacrilege, for in the ancient Near East and in
The fourth commandment. This one shifts the focus from proper recognition of and respect for the Person of Yahweh as the Lord of Israel to a regulation of the exercise of man’s dominion over the earth. He is to “remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy” (Ex. 20:8). This is achieved by the interruption of ordinary labor on the seventh day by the Israelite family, its servants, and even its beasts of burden. The theological significance of this prohibition must be gathered from the motive clauses (v. 11a, 11b), which suggest that the reasons for setting the day apart are (1) that Yahweh made all things in six days and rested on the seventh and (2) that He celebrated that cessation of creative work by setting aside the rest day for a memorial. Creation establishes the uniquely sovereign claims of Yahweh and, as a most profound historical event, it must be remembered by man so that man will all the more remain loyal to His covenant commitment.53 The credentials of Yahweh as Covenant-maker are remembered and recited. He is Lord over both space and time. Man as God’s vice-regent and image must also cease his labor in anticipation of a “day of rest” of both historical and eschatological dimensions. In terms of the Sinaitic Covenant, the Sabbath was to remind
The fifth commandment. The transition introduced by the fourth commandment continues in the fifth, “Honor your father and your mother” (20:12). The reference to labor in the fourth is now connected to that of land in the fifth, for obedience with respect to the proper estimation of parents will result in long life in the land. More important is the reminder of order and structure within the governmental framework of Yahweh’s dominion. In the total covenant relationship there are spheres of responsibility and function. The vassal, though ultimately responsible only to the Great King, must, in keeping with the hierarchical structure of his society, honor those placed over him. The covenant of Yahweh with
The sixth commandment. “You shall not murder” (Ex. 20:13), is an apodictic way of restating the ancient lex talionis of the Noahic Covenant:“Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed; for in the image of God has God made man (Gen. 9:6)”. Of particular significance here is the motive clause because it clarifies the profound heinousness of the terse form of the command in the Decalogue. A man must not murder his fellow man, for such a murder is in effect a lethal attack against God Himself. Because life is sacred to God generally (hence, blood must not be spilled on the ground carelessly or eaten) and that of man especially (in that he is the image of God), the violation of man to the point of death is an affront to the sovereignty of God, an assault on His earthly representative. Only this theological rationale can adequately explain the severity of the punishment for murder, which is a capital offense, and account for the trans-Israelite, universal condemnation and redressing of the act. The covenant violation implied by a vassal taking the life of a vassal (at least within the context of the Sinaitic Covenant) is obvious.
The seventh commandment. A similar infringement of covenant expectation occurs with disobedience to the next commandment, “You shall not commit adultery” (Ex. 20:14). Adultery on the human level is unfaithfulness, indeed, covenant violation, and so it is an apt analogue to covenant infidelity on a higher plane, the divine-human. The biblical revelation is pervasive with phrases such as “whoring after other gods,” imagery that speaks of Israel’s abandoning the redeeming Sovereign in favor of another who has no covenant claim or legitimacy (Ex. 34:15–16; Lev. 17:7; 20:5; Deut. 31:16; Judg. 2:17; Ps. 73:27; Ezek. 6:9; etc.). Adultery then is the mixing of the true and the false, the holy and the profane, the pure and the corrupt. It is an overstepping of the lines that circumscribe the trusting relationship between partners who have made mutual pledge of loyal commitment. It is covenant rupture of the most serious kind.
The eighth commandment. This command concerns an essential for vassalage: possessions and their proper management and disposition. “You shall not steal” (Ex. 20:15) takes on its proper and fullest meaning only as one recognizes that all people (and especially Israel) are vassals of the Creator-Redeemer God who has gifted them and who expects reasonable stewardship of them. The King has not only allocated realms of authority and responsibility but has also given each vassal the means by which to achieve on the earth what He has in view for each. To steal, therefore, is to commit at least three sins against the King: (1) to take from another what he has been given and needs in order to exercise his stewardship; (2) to fail to fulfill one’s own assignment on the basis of what God has given; and (3) to undermine the wise purposes of God who gives to each according to his role and ability. All things, material and immaterial, belong to God and must be dispensed by His gracious pleasure.
The ninth commandment. Correct relationships between vassals in the network of covenant affiliation are summed up by the injunction “You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor” (Ex. 20: 16). Though “neighbor” (rēa‘) does frequently designate the stranger (gēr) or even the foreigner (11:2), in the framework of a covenant document it clearly refers to a fellow Israelite.54 The language is that of technical, legal terminology, and in a most immediate and practical sense of commandment teaches that in a court of law one must not offer perjured testimony concerning an accused party (cf.Ex. 23:1, 7; Deut. 19:15–19). The word for testimony (‘ēd) is cognate to the standard term (’‘ēdût) employed for the statutes of a covenant document in
The tenth commandment. The “last” commandment, that prohibiting covetousness (Ex. 20:17), is, as has been noted by virtually all scholars, in the realm of the subjective or internal.56 The other commandments inevitably manifest themselves in an outward expression to some degree or other, but covetousness can theoretically exist only in the mind and heart and never betray itself in external act. The moment it does so it is no longer covetousness. For that reason it is an apt climax to the stipulation section of the covenant document. It raises the covenant requirement to a higher, more spiritual dimension and properly locates the motive for human action, good or bad, in the volitional side of man. Improper desire is a more “spiritual” level of theft, adultery, and the like and is forbidden for that reason.
Even if covetousness never finds fruition in overt behavior, it is still a serious breach of covenant regulation because the Lord who knows the heart is offended by it. It is an expression of dissatisfaction with one’s possessions and with his general lot if life. It violates (if only in spirit) the sanctity of personal property and relationships and tends to disrupt the balanced and equitable jurisdiction assigned by the Sovereign of the kingdom. In effect, covetousness impugns the wisdom and goodness of God by questioning His bestowal of life’s blessings in accord with His omniscient plan.
In conclusion, the formal and theological function of the Decalogue becomes clear when viewed in the context of the redemptive act of the Exodus and the elective purposes of God for
THE BOOK OF THE COVENANT
The Ten Commandments, as argued above, are formally the general stipulation section of the Sinatic Covenant document recorded in Exodus 20:1–23:33. The so-called special stipulation section that follows the Decalogue consists of a number of statutes cast in the form of case (or casuistic) law, which together are designated “the Book of the Covenant.” It is clear that these statutes are not exhaustive in scope but are illustrative of the manner in which the principles of covenant stipulation are to be applied in individual cases. They also amplify and clarify the intent of those stipulations and even go beyond them, particularly in areas of cultic principle practice.57
It is impossible here to deal with all the individual examples of legislation in the Book of the Covenant, but it will be helpful to survey the collection at least and to draw appropriate theological conclusions.58
The Book of the Covenant begins technically with Exodus 20:22, having been separated from the Decalogue by a brief narrative (vv. 18–21) describing the people’s response to the phenomena accompanying Moses’ encounter with Yahweh on Sinai (cf. 19:16–25). The technical term “ordinances” (mis̆pātɩ̂m), which describes the specific stipulations of the covenant, does not occur until 21:1, so 20:22–26 serves as an introduction to the stipulation section. This introduction underlines Yahweh’s exclusivity, His self-revelation to His people, and His demand to be worshiped wherever He localizes His name and in association with appropriate altars.
The Book of the Covenant is concluded in precisely the same way. Its stipulations end with 23:1359 and there follows a section (vv. 14–33) in which Yahweh commanded a thrice annual appearance of the community before Him (vv. 14–17) to present sacrifices offered in the appropriate manner (vv. 18–19). He then promised to go with them to the land of promise and to drive out their adversaries provided they maintain their covenant commitment to Him by destroying the images of alien gods and refusing to make alliance with them (vv. 20–33).
The casuistic covenant stipulations. It is worth noting that the stipulations are enfolded within matching frames that stress the exclusivity of Yahweh (Ex. 20:22–23; cf. 23:24–25, 32–33), His presence in specified places (cf. 20:24; 23:14–17, 20, 28ndash;31), and a proper protocol and ritual by which He may be approached by His servant people (cf. 20:24–26; 23:18–19). It is within the context of a vertical covenant relationship, then, that the horizontal, societal, and interpersonal relationships of the Book of the Covenant take on their ultimate meaning.
Appropriately the first stipulation concerns bondage (21:2–6) because the essence of the covenant was the deliverance of
The second stipulation (21:7–11) is not a case of slavery in the strict sense but a marriage arrangement by a father in financial need. There was no automatic manumission as in the preceding case. This was certainly an accommodation to the prevailing custom of
The third stipulation (21:12–17) concerns homicide, assault on parents, kidnapping, and the cursing of parents—all of which were capital offenses. They all take on profound consequences because they impinge on man as God’s image. In the first case, because murder is an act of assault on God, an insubordination of indescribable proportions, the perpetrator must die (v. 12). Accidental homicide was not a capital crime, of course, and had its own special provisions for adjudication (v. 13; cf.Num.35:22–23; Deut. 19:4–5). Any exception to capital punishment for murder lay in the grace of God as, for example, in the case of David’s murder of Uriah (2 Sam. 12:13).
In the event of physical attack on parents (Ex. 21:15) the punishment again was death, for parents as God’s representatives in the hierarchy of the covenant community commanded such reverence that injury to them was insubordination to the Sovereign Himself (cf. 20:12–13).62 Even injury by word, that is, by cursing one’s parent (21:17), was worthy of death for it was the same attitude of disrespect and covenant disloyalty.
That kidnapping should warrant execution is also to be explained by the sacredness of man and his dignity as God’s image. To steal or to buy and sell a human being is to regard him as something less than what he truly is in the eyes of the Lord, who is over all men in common.
The fourth stipulation refers to laws of physical assault (21:18–27). What they hold in common is the lack of premeditation, but in each case this did not absolve the guilty party of responsibility and consequence. In the event of altercation in which injury ensued, financial compensation had to be made to the aggrieved party (vv. 18–19). This was to preclude rash, intemperate behavior and to emphasize again the dignity of human beings under God. Likewise, even the injury or death of a slave had to be recompensed (vv. 20–21), for even he was the image of God and not just property. If the mistreatment was abusive and not merely disciplinary (as vv. 20–21seem to suggest), the slave had to be set free (vv. 26–27), for the image of God, in whatever societal form it appeared, was at stake. If a third party was injured in a fight between two men, specifically a pregnant woman and/or her fetus (vv. 22–25), lex talionis had to be invoked.63 That is, if there was no harm done, a monetary fine was sufficient, but if there was injury up to and including death, the guilty party was required to suffer in kind.
The next stipulation shares in common the relationship between man and beast in so far as injury and loss is concerned. If one owned an ox, for example, and that animal caused death or harm to another human being, it had to be slaughtered and its owner punished according to the status of the victim and the owner’s previous knowledge of the animal’s temperament (21:28–32). The fate of the ox gives clear evidence of the theological principle of the subordination of the animal world to human sovereignty. That the fatal goring of one ox by another required only compensation shows the relative insignificance of the animal-to-animal relationship (vv. 35–36).
If, however, an animal died from falling into a covered pit (21 :33–34) or was stolen by a thief and then killed or sold (22:1–4), its owner in the first case could demand fair compensation (since it was an accident) and in the second case could require fourfold or fivefold restitution. Furthermore if the thief was slain by the homeowner while in the act of breaking and entering in the night, the homicide was justifiable. In no other kind of theft was such harsh penalty applied, so it is clear that the bond between an animal and its owner (i.e., its master) is of a different kind from that of a man and his inanimate possessions.64
Exodus 22:5–17 pertains to what might loosely be called laws of property. The first case (v. 5) concerns crop damage suffered through the grazing of an unpenned animal, a violation that required even restitution. The second (v. 6) speaks to the same kind of loss, only through fire, and demanded the same penalty. The third case (vv. 7–15) involved the safekeeping of entrusted property. If it was stolen or (in the case of an animal) injured or killed, the trustee had to swear before the judges that he was innocent. If he was, he went free. If, however, he was party to the loss, he was required to pay double indemnity. The teaching in all this is that property, though not of ultimate value, nevertheless represents part of what an individual is. A man is not only who he is but what he possesses and to defraud him of those things for which he is responsible is to infringe on his own lordship. For one to borrow from his friend something that became damaged or lost in his absence was to require just compensation, unless he had paid a fee for its use in advance (vv. 14–15).
The stipulation concerning the seduction of a virgin (vv. 16–17) appears here perhaps as an extension of the previous requirements concerning laws of “property,” for in this context the ensuing negotiation was between the seducer and the father of the maiden. In a sense she was his “property,” a possession that had been violated and with respect to which a mōhar payment had to be made whether or not she became the wife of the perpetrator. The reason payment had to be given even if the girl did not became the wife of the seducer was that her virginity had been lost and she no longer could command a bride price. The father, then, had lost a valuable source of income, a loss that demanded compensation.65
The apodictic covenant stipulations. As many scholars recognize, the second half of the Book of the Covenant begins at Exodus 22:18 and the stipulations undergo a change in content to match what is clearly a change in form. The first half (Ex. 20:22–22:17) is fundamentally casuistic, whereas the latter half is not.66 That is, the stipulations now are expressed as prescriptions or prohibitions with little or no reference to the penalty attached to violation in each case.
The unifying theme of the first stipulation of this section is that of covenant fidelity, first with reference to the Lord (22:18–20) and then with reference to fellow covenanters (22:21–23:9). A sorceress had to be killed because she was an envoy of false gods and a false religious system and therefore was treasonous (22:18). Bestiality is an abomination (v. 19) because man is a unique creature made to be the image of God and to rule over all things including animals. To place himself on a level with the brute beast is to surrender the sovereignty with which man was endowed and is thus an affront to God Himself. Sacrifice to false gods (v. 20) is so obviously an act of rebellion that its penalty could be nothing less than obliteration by ḥērem or the ban.
Loyalty to the covenant brother had to extend first to the sojourner (22:21), because the Israelites themselves were strangers in
The reverse side of consideration of the poor and defenseless is proper respect for God and human rulers (22:28). To demonstrate the practical application of this attitude, the Israelite, in line with his role as the submissive vassal of Yahweh the Great King, was required to bear his tribute in the form of harvest of produce and firstborn of animal and of his own male progeny. That the firstborn were surrendered on the eighth day (v. 30) established the linkage with the Abrahamic Covenant (cf. Gen. 17:12) because the circumcision of the infant male was a hallmark of his identification as a member of the covenant community.
In conclusion of this section, the Lord urged holiness on His people, for to serve Him was tantamount to separation to Him and from all other masters (Ex. 22:31). This fundamental idea of holiness and separation carries with it moral and ethical overtones. Separation as a principle, then, must work itself out in patterns of practice and behavior. This was at the very heart of Israelite worship, as will be seen later. Meanwhile, and as an example only, the stipulation declared that any animal not ritually slaughtered could not be eaten. Besides ensuring the complete draining of the blood, the slaughter of animals for meat according to strict ritual requirements raised the act to the level of worship and set it within the context of covenant relationship.
The code next addresses the matter of justice (23:1–9). In line with the commandment about bearing false witness (20:16), the covenanter was not to be induced by social pressures to perjure himself or slander the innocent. Though the tendency could be to victimize the poor, one was also to take care that his compassion for the poor not alleviate him of the penalty of the law when it was due. In other words, justice must be evenhanded.
This was so much the case that even one’s enemies had to be his beneficiaries. If the enemy’s ox or donkey were lost it had to be returned, and if it lay fallen beneath a burden it, with its burden, had to be raised up and otherwise attended (23:4–5). The poor, the innocent, the foreigner—all had to receive protection of the law. This meant there could be no miscarriage of justice, whether through bias, bribery, or prejudice. The model is God Himself for He does not justify the wicked (v. 7); and the motive, especially with regard to the alien, is clear.
In line with these principles of justice, particularly as they related to the poor and the alien, are instructions as to the welfare of those disadvantaged. God Himself had blessed His people with land. Now the bounty of that land was to be shared with the landless. The seventh year therefore had to be a sabbath year in which the land lay fallow, yielding only what grew up of its own accord (23:11– 19). The poor in a sense became the owners of the land in that sabbath year, harvesting the fields and vineyards at will and, if anything remained, allowing the animals to forage unimpeded. Thus the dispensing of grace, which originates in the loving heart of God Himself, results in the blessing of the brute beast of the field.
This blessing of the sabbath year in which the earth itself could rest was matched by the sabbath day, which demanded that man and animal rest (23:12), a point articulated in the Decalogue with great emphasis (20:8–11). In summation of all the ordinances up to this point (i.e., from Ex. 21:2–23:12), the Lord enjoins on His people absolute compliance that centers once more on His uniqueness and exclusiveness (23:13).
Covenant pilgrimage and tribute. As argued previously, the stipulation section of the Book of the Covenant ends with the summation in Exodus 23:13. The next section (23:14–17) consists of the protocol of tribute that
The second pilgrimage to the presence of the Lord (Ex. 23:16a) occurred fifty days later. This feast of harvest (qaṣɩ̂r or s̆ƒbūôt) celebrated the ripening of the wheat (34:22) fifty days after Passover (hence “Pentecost” or fifty days). Its purpose was to recognize the Lord as the source of all life and bounty and to present the first of the wheat, the staff of life, to the Great King who had made possible its maturation as an act of His grace.
The third and final appearance before the Lord (Ex. 23:16b) occurred in the seventh month of the religious year or the first month of the civil year. Described here as the “Feast of Ingathering” (’asɩ̂p), otherwise “Feast of Tabernacles” (or sūkkôt), it marked the harvest of crops at year’s end, especially the grains and grapes (Deut. 16:13). Beyond this it commemorated the miraculous provision of Yahweh for His people in the desert of their forty-year wandering (cf. Lev. 23:39–44).
Then, in excess of what was required of vassals in the ancient Near East, Israel, represented by her males, expressed her ongoing covenant commitment by making the trek not once but three times annually to the earthly dwelling place of her God. In pre-Conquest times this place, of course, was wherever the Tabernacle was erected. Later it was at Gilgal, Shechem, Shiloh, and eventually
As might be expected, even this act of devotion was to follow prescribed conventions. The animal sacrifices were not to be offered with leavened bread (which symbolized corruption) and the portions to be eaten were to be consumed in that very day of festival (cf. Ex. 12:10). The very best of the harvest of field crops was to be offered and a kid was not to be boiled in its mother’s milk (23:19). This apparently disconnected prescription is in fact a most appropriate way to conclude the section on pilgrimage and festival because, by contrasting the abominable practices of the Canaanites among whom Israel would shortly come to live (cf. Deut.14:21)67it encapsulizes the essence of what it meant to be the holy people of Yahweh. The very ritual of God’s people must be antithetical to that of their neighbors so that their incomparable beauty and truth might be highlighted all the more.
INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE JOURNEY
Following the text of the covenant code Yahweh assures His people of His ongoing commitment.68He had not brought them out of
The way to
A corollary to holy war was the destruction of all the trappings of alien, pagan worship and unreserved devotion to Yahweh (Ex. 23:24). This would result in prosperity, health, and long life and the eventual evacuation of all hostile forces from the land. At last the fullness of the land promises to the fathers would become a reality—
COVENANT CEROMONY
Having outlined the general (Ex. 20:1–17) and specific (20:22–23:19) stipulations of the covenant, Yahweh, in accord with standard procedures of covenant-making, met with
Moses, Aaron, Aaron’s two sons, and seventy elders represented the entire nation on this holy occasion, though Moses alone was invited to encounter Yahweh on the mountaintop (Ex. 24:1–2). Before he did so he rehearsed with the assembly of Israel all the dƒbārı̂m (the Ten Commandments or general stipulations) and the mis̆pātı̂m (the Book of the Covenant or specific stipulations), and as they had done when first challenged with the prospect of entering into covenant with Yahweh (cf. 19:8), the people accepted the covenant terms and pledged to uphold them (24:3).
With this pledge Moses constructed an altar to symbolize the presence of Yahweh and twelve pillars to represent the tribes. He then offered burnt offerings and peace offerings—in themselves testimonies to covenant solidarity—and sprinkled their blood on the altar and pillars, dramatizing thereby the union of the contracting parties. Once more he read the text of the covenant document and once more the people asserted their fealty (Ex. 24:7). This done, Moses made his way up the mountain where he, along with Aaron, Nadab, Abihu, and the seventy encountered the awesome presence of Yahweh seated in regal splendor on His throne. Then and there Yahweh accepted the covenant response of His people with favor as is seen in His restraint toward them and their celebration by a covenant meal in His very presence (v. 11).
Once more Moses alone ascended to the gates of glory (cf. Ex. 24:1–2) to receive the stone tablets bearing the tôrāh (Ten Commandments) and the miṣwāh (Book of the Covenant) in order that they might be preserved in the archives of Israel for all time. For six days he remained there, shrouded in the glory of Yahweh, until finally on the seventh day Yahweh, resplendent and terrifying in His garments of glory, broke His silence. Then for forty days and forty nights Yahweh elaborated on the cultic implications of the covenant, particularly as they centered on the Tabernacle and the priesthood.
AN APPROACH TO THE HOLY
The establishment of a covenant relationship necessitated a means whereby the vassal party could regularly appear before the Great King to render his accountability. In normal historical relationships of this kind between mere men, some sort of intercession was frequently mandatory and, in any case, a strict protocol had to be adhered to.71 How much more must this be required in the case of a sinful people such as
The meeting place. Yahweh had already promised to condescend to His people by localizing His presence among them so that they might meet with Him (Ex. 23:17). Now on the mountain He outlined to Moses in detail the form that that meeting place must take (chaps. 25–27; 30–31) and the priestly apparatus that must be in place to afford intercession between the Holy One and His people (chaps. 28–29).
The sanctuary could not be the product of Moses’ or
The Ark of the Covenant (Ex. 25:10–22), the solitary object in the Most Holy Place, was to function both as the repository of the covenant text (vv. 9, 21) and the throne on which Yahweh sat invisibly among His people (v. 22). The Tabernacle therefore was the palace of the King, and the
In the
In addition to the Tabernacle, the principal object inside the outer court (27:9–19) was the great altar of bronze (27:1–8) on which the atoning and fellowship offerings of
The priesthood. The place of meeting having thus been described, the Lord addressed the matter of intercession, a matter that presupposed and gave rise to the order of the priesthood. The approach to the Holy One, both within the biblical tradition and outside it, has always included some kind of mediatorial ministry, for it is inherent in any kind of “high religion” that an otherwise unbridgeable chasm exists between ineffable deity and finite mankind.
In earliest times, of course, Yahweh met directly with His creation, which in turn communicated with Him in word and act. With the passing of time and the rise of patriarchal familial and clan structures, the father of the household functioned also as its priest, the minister who stood between the family and its God. Finally—and even before the covenant at Sinai—there had developed some kind of order of priests, as Exodus 19:22 expressly declares. How that ministry originated and how it functioned cannot be determined, but it seems clearly to have come about coincident with the transition of
A significant turning point was reached, however, with the consolidation of the Israelite people into a corporate body in covenant with Yahweh. No longer could private, or even familial, worship suffice to express the theological meaning of the new relationship. A corporate people needed, as a people, a means of access to the Lord of the covenant, a means that found spatial focus in the Tabernacle but that also required a level of intercession appropriate to the changed character of the people as a solidarity who as one entity must appear before her God.
Perhaps solely by virtue of his being the brother of Moses—who had been already designated as covenant mediator—Aaron and his sons were selected to found the priestly order (Ex. 28:1). They had already participated as such in a preliminary way when they, and seventy of the elders, had accompanied Moses part way up Sinai in the act of meeting Yahweh in covenant ceremony (24:1, 9). This encounter in itself defined what it meant to be a priest, namely, to represent the people before their God.
Surprisingly, perhaps, the first requirement after the selection of Aaron and his sons was the manufacture of appropriate vestments in which they would minister, each part of which was significant. They consisted first of an ephod (Ex. 28:6–14) made of the same materials as the curtains of the Tabernacle (26:1). The principal purpose of this apronlike garment was to provide, on its shoulder straps, settings for two precious stones on which were engraved the names of the twelve tribes of
A breastplate (or pouch) was affixed to the front of the ephod (Ex. 28:15–30), and in this were set twelve precious stones in rows of three. Each of these would also be inscribed with the name of a tribe, and because the breastplate was worn over the heart (v. 29) it spoke of the compassionate intercession undertaken by the priest as he entered into the presence of Yahweh on each tribe’s behalf. An important aspect of this mediatorial role was the communication of the will of God to the people, especially before the rise of the formal prophetic movement. Thus, the breastplate also contained the Urim and Thummim, two objects by which the priest could discern the yes-and-no responses of the Lord to questions addressed in an appropriate manner.
Another part of the priestly attire was the blue robe, all of one piece (Ex. 28:31–35). This he wore in the
Finally, reference is made to linen undergarments, the purpose of which was to protect the modesty of the priests (Ex. 28:42–43). This reminder of the shame of nakedness associated with the Fall was in striking contrast to the demeanor of pagan priests who often performed their duties naked. Indeed, all the garments of the priests of
The ceremony of consecration, which required the preparation of the holy garments just described, follows next (Ex. 29:1–37). It consisted first of the presentation of animals and grain, a ceremonial washing of the candidates, their adornment with the priestly regalia, and their anointing with oil. Next was the slaughter of a bull on which Aaron and his sons had placed their hands, thus transferring their guilt to the innocent animal (v. 14). A ram was then sacrificed as a whole burnt offering to be “consumed” by Yahweh in line with covenant protocol (vv. 15–18). A second ram was slain and its blood was applied to the ear, thumb, and big toe of the priests. The purpose clearly was to consecrate these to the service of Yahweh so that the priests might hear and do the will of God and walk faithful to their calling. Next followed the offering of the choice parts of the beast to Yahweh and the consumption by Aaron and his sons of the parts designated for them. This fellowship offering spoke of the attainment of a covenant status between Yahweh and the priestly order, a sort of covenant within a covenant. To
The tribute. The consecration of the priests, which featured appropriate sacrifice, leads naturally to the function of sacrifice in the cultus, a subject exhaustively described in the book of Leviticus. But here in Exodus 29:28–46 the linkage between priest and Tabernacle is first suggested. Yahweh indicated that He, the Great King, would meet with His covenant people in a special, unique way in the portable shrine of the Tabernacle. Moreover, He would do so via the mediating ministry of the priests. Now the visible expression of the means whereby the approach of the people to their God can become possible must be articulated.
Fundamentally, acceptable approach to and standing before God is the essence of religious sacrifice, or perhaps its purpose. That is, the worshiper dare not come before deity empty-handed, for some kind of vicarious offering must establish his right to do so and some kind of gesture of devotion must signify his recognition of his status. In covenant terms (and this was what governs all
The twice-daily burnt offerings of lambs had to be made at the door of the Tabernacle where, Yahweh says, “I will meet with you to speak to you” (Ex. 29:42). It was in the Tabernacle that Yahweh would dwell and where He would manifest His sovereignty among and over His people (v. 45). All this is predicated historically on His redemptive act of Exodus deliverance. He brought them out of
The requirement of sacrifice at the Tabernacle and the role of the priests in carrying out its regular presentation demanded a holiness of priest and people alike in order for it to be efficacious. Though the covenant faith was expressed cor
1 1. James Barr, “The Theological Case against Biblical Theology,” in Canon, Theology, and Old Testament Interpretation, ed. Gene M. Tucker, David L. Petersen, and Robert R. Wilson (Philadelphia Fortress. 1988). pp. 3–19.
2 2. Gerhard Ebeling, “The Meaning of ‘Biblical Theology,”’ Journal of Theological Studies 6 (1955): 210.
3 3. Gerhard Hasel. Old Testament Theology: Basic Issues in the Current Debate, 3d ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982), pp. 42–43, 69–70.
4 4. For an early but still important treatise on this matter of the relationship of biblical and systematic theology, see the Altdorf Address of Johann Gabler in J. Sandys-Wunsch and L. Eldredge, “J. P. Gabler and the Distinction between Biblical and Dogmatic Theology: Translation, Commentary and Discussion of His Originality,” Scottish Journal of Theology 33 (1980): 133–58.
[1]Zuck, R. B., Merrill, E. H., & Bock, D. L. 1996, c1991. A Biblical theology of the Old Testament. Moody Press:
1 1. For a careful argumentation connecting the genesis, transmission, and creative synthesis of the biblical texts and the theological relevance of each of these stages, see Gerhard Hasel, Old Testament Theology: Basic Issues in the Current Debate, 3d ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982), pp. 169–83.
2 2. Roger Beckwith, The Old Testament Canon of the New Testament Church (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1985), pp. 128, 359.
3 3. For detailed support of this milieu, see Eugene H. Merrill, Kingdom of Priests: A History of Old Testament Israel (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1987), pp. 21–25.
4 4. Michael Fishbane, “Torah and Tradition,” in Tradition and Theology in the Old Testament, ed. Douglas A. Knight (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977), pp. 275–76.
5 5. J. A. Thompson, Deuteronomy: An Introduction and Commentary (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity, 1974), pp. 17–21.
6 6. John Goldingay, “The Study of Old Testament Theology: Its Aims and Purpose,” Tyndale Bulletin 26 (1975): 37–39.
7 7. This is what Brueggemann means by a theology of “coherence and rationality” (Walter Brueggemann, “A Shape for Old Testament Theology, I: Structure Legitimation,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 47 [1985]: 41).
8 8. John Goldingay, Approaches to Old Testament Interpretation (Downers Grove, III.: InterVarsity, 1981). pp. 74–77; James Barr, “Revelation through History in the Old Testament and in Modern Theology,” Interpretation 17 (1963): 197.
9 9. Brevard S. Childs, Old Testament Theology in a Canonical Context (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985), pp. 15–16.
10 10. See the excellent discussions by T. C. Vriezen, An Outline of Old Testament Theology (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1958), pp. 79ndash;93; A. A. Anderson, “Old Testament Theology and Its Methods,” in Promise and Fulfillment, ed. F. F. Bruce (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1963), pp. 12–13.
11 11. For various approaches to the search for a center, see Hasel, Old Testament Theology, pp. 117–43.
12 12. W. J. Dumbrell, Covenant and Creation (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1984), pp. 80–81, 90.
13 13. Jakob Jocz, The Covenant (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1968), pp. 31–32.
14 14. Eugene H. Merrill, “Covenant and the Kingdom: Genesis 1–3 as Foundation for Biblical Theology,”CriswellTheologicalReview 1 ( 1987): 295–308.
15 15. Von Rad suggests that the word “good” contains “less an aesthetic judgment than the designation of purpose, correspondence” (Gerhard von Rad, Genesis: A Commentary [London: SCM, 1961], p. 50).
17 17. Only Christ is the image of God in an ontological sense. Man is such representationally or functionally. See Peter T. O’Brien, Colossians, Philemon, Word Biblical Commentary, vol. 44 (Waco, Tex.: Word, 1982), pp. 43–44.
18 18. For a full discussion of this view (which he does not accept), see Claus Westermann, Genesis 1–11: A Commentary (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1984), pp. 151–54.
19 19. Francis Brown, S. R. Driver, and Charles A. Briggs, A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament (Oxford: Clarendon, 1962), p. 921.
21 21. Manfred Hutter, “Adam als Gärtner und König,” Adam als Gärtner und König 30 (1986): 258–62.
22 22. Von Rad, Genesis, p. 81. For a careful nuancing of this, however, see George W. Ramsey, “Is Name-Giving an Act of Domination in Genesis
24 24. Hans Walter Wolff, Hosea (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1974), p. 51.
25 25. Gustave F. Oehler, Theology of the Old Testament (1883; reprint,
26 26. Walther Eichrodt, Theology of the Old Testament (Philadelphia: Westminister, 1967), 2:126–27.
27 27. Westermann, Genesis, p. 227.
28 28. So, for example, F. L. Godet, Commentary on First Corinthians (1899; reprint,
29 29. Walter C. Kaiser, Jr., Toward Old Testament Ethics (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1983), pp. 204–6
30 30. Claus Westermann, Elements of Old Testament Theology (Atlanta: John Knox, 1982), p. 45
31 31. See, for example, Gerhard von Rad, “The Theological Problem of the Old Testament Doctrine of Creation,” in The Problem of the Hexateuch and Other Essays (London: SCM, 1984), esp. pp. 142–43.
32 32. Franz Delitzsch, The Pentateuch, Commentary on the Old Testament, vol. 1 (
33 33. Willem A. Van Gemeren, “The Sons of God in Genesis 6:1–4,”
34 34. Dumbrell, p. 26.
35 35. Geerhardus Vos, Biblical Theology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1954), p. 64.
38 38. D. J. A. Clines demonstrates clear thematic strands in Genesis 1–11 (a theme he describes as “creation-uncreation-re-creation”) in his “Theme in Genesis 1–11,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 38 (1976): 499–502.
39 39. Moshe Weinfeld, “’The Covenant of Grant in the Old Testament and in the Ancient Near East,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 90 ( 1970): 184–203.
40 40. For justification of this passive rendering of the verb “to bless,” see 0. T. Allis, “The Blessing of Abraham,”
41 41. Though Brueggemann surely exaggerates when he says that “land is a central, if not the central theme of biblical faith” (italics his), it clearly is a dominant Old Testament theological motif (Walter Brueggemann, The Land [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977], p. 3).
45 45. So, for example, John I. Durham, Exodus, Word Biblical Commentary, vol. 3 (Waco, Tex.: Word, 1987), pp. 261–62.
46 46. George E. Mendenhall, “Covenant Forms in Israelite Tradition,” Biblical Archaeologist 17 (1954): 50–76.
47 47. Deuteronomy 4:26; 30:19; 31:28. See Meredith Kline, Treaty of the Great King (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1963), p. 15.
48 48. Though he has to excise the Decalogue from its covenant setting, Phillips still makes a case for the Decalogue as fulfilling a civil and legal function as well as a covenant function (Anthony Phillips, “The Decalogue—Ancient Israel’s Criminal Law,” Journal of Semitic Studies 34 [1983]: 1–20).
49 49. Erhard Gerstenberger, “Covenant and Commandment,” Journal of Biblical Literature 84 (1965): 43; Walther Eichrodt, “Covenant and Law,” Interpretation 20 (1966): 309–11.
50 50. The fundamental study is Albrecht Alt, “The Origins of Israelite Law,” in Essays on Old Testament History and Religion (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1968), pp. 101–71.
51 51. For an excellent discussion of the form-critical analyses involved, see Harry W. Gilmer, The If—You Form in Israelite Law (Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1975), pp. 1–26.
52 52. W. L. Moran, “The Ancient Near Eastern Background of the Love of God in Deuteronomy,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 25 (1963): 77–87
53 53. Matitiahu Tsevat, “The Basic Meaning of the Biblical Sabbath,” Zeitschrift für die Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 84 (1972): 495.
54 54.
55 55. K. A. Kitchen, Ancient Orient and Old Testament (London: Tyndale, 1966), pp. 106–8.
56 56. Brevard S. Childs, The Book of Exodus: A Critical, Theological Commentary (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1974), pp. 425–28.
58 58. For suggestions as to the arrangement of the stipulations in the Code, see C. M. Carmichael, “A Singular Method of Codification of Law in the Mishpatim,” Zeitschrift für die Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 84 (1972): 19–24.
59 59. For support of the analysis, see
60 60. For the “quasi juridical” use of this term in extrabiblical texts, see Shalom Paul, Studies in the Book of the Covenant in the Light of Cuneiform and Biblical Law (Leiden: Brill, 1970), p.49,n.2.
63 63. Meredith G. Kline, “Lex Talionis and the Human Fetus,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 20 (1977); 193–201; H. Wayne House, “Miscarriage or Premature Birth: Additional Thoughts on Exodus 21:22–25,”
64 64. Most scholars view Exodus 22:2–3 as a parenthesis explaining the fate of thieves in general. There is no reason, however, not to see the passage as a vital part of the context of the theft of animals in particular.
65 65. Ronald de Vaux, Ancient Israel (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1961), 1:26–27.
66 66. Childs, Exodus, p. 477.
67 67.
68 68. This kind of commitment is typical of the sovereign-vassal treaty. See F. Charles Fensham “Clauses of Protection in Hittite Vassal-Treaties and the Old Testament,” Vetus Testamentum 13 (1963): 141.
70 70. E. W. Nicholson, “The Covenant Ritual in Exodus 24, 3–8,” Vetus Testamentum 32 (1982): 83–84.
71 71. For Hittite practice, for example, see O.R. Gurney, The Hittites (Baltimore: Penguin, 1964), pp. 74–75.
[2]Zuck, R. B., Merrill, E. H., & Bock, D. L. 1996, c1991. A Biblical theology of the Old Testament. Moody Press:
