Chapter 4 of 15

Part 4

Part 4

the promises. Religious belief exists not in its last analysis on what we can prove to be so, but on the fact of God having declared it to be so. Behind the belief, the assent, therefore, there lies an antecedent trust distinguishable from the subsequent trust. And this reliance upon the word of God is an eminently religious act. Hence it is inaccurate to say that belief is merely the prerequisite of faith and not an element of faith itself.

To be sure, no sooner has this antecedent trust developed into belief, than this in turn is followed by a trust of far wider reach and more practical significance. For the declarations believed are not relating to abstract, indifferent matters; they are promises relating to vital concerns of life. For this reason, they solicit a reaction from the will and the emotions no less than from the intellect. They become a basis on which the entire religious consciousness comes to rest and finds assurance for its deepest and farthest-reaching practical needs and desires. Faith, therefore, begins with and ends in the trust—rest in God.

In Gen. 15:6, this is strikingly illustrated, although the rendering in the English Bible is not for this purpose the most felicitous one: 'He believed in Jehovah'. The Hebrew word heemin construed with the preposition be literally means: 'he developed assurance in Jehovah'. The Hiphil of amen here has a causative-productive sense, and the preposition brings out that the personal point at which this assurance sprang up was nothing else but the personal Jehovah, and that the same divine Person, in whom it sprang up, was also the One in whom it came to rest. And this personal relatedness of his faith to God imparted a strongly God-centred character to Abraham's piety. It is emphasized in the narrative that the patriarch's supreme blessedness consisted in the possession of God Himself: 'Fear not, Abraham, I am thy shield, thy exceeding great reward' [Gen. 15:1]. For this treasure he could cheerfully renounce all other gifts.

But this faith attached itself not merely to God in general; it was strong enough to bear the strain of trusting in the supernatural self-

communication and action of God. It related specifically to the divine omnipotence and saving grace. Salvation requires at all times more than God's general providence exerted in our behalf. It implies supernaturalism, not as a curious, marvellous self-demonstration of God, but as the very core of true religiousness. On the basis of this part, as well as of other parts of Scripture in general, it is quite proper to maintain that a belief entertained and a life conducted on the basis of a relation to God through nature alone does not yield the Biblical religion at all. It is not merely a partial, it is a different thing. In Abraham's case this meant negatively, for securing God and the promises, a renouncing of all his own purely human resources. He expected nothing from himself. And positively he expected everything from the supernatural interposition of God. Paul with his penetrating doctrinal genius has given us a striking description of this supernaturalism of Abraham's faith, both on its negative and on its positive side, in Rom. 4:17–23 [cp, Heb. 11:17–19]. In both passages his faith is represented as rising to the height of trusting the omnipotence of God for the raising of Isaac from the dead, after the divine command to surrender him should have been executed. Here the two poles of negation of self-resource and of affirmation of divine omnipotence are represented by faith and resurrection. This is the reason why the Apostle compares Abraham's faith at this point to the Christian's faith in the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. This kind of faith is a faith in the creative interposition of God. It trusts in Him for calling the things that are not as though they were. This does not, of course, mean that the objective content of the patriarch's faith was doctrinally identical with that of the New Testament believer. Paul does not commit the anachronism of saying that Abraham's faith had for its object the raising of Christ from the dead. What he means is that the attitude of faith towards the raising of Isaac and the attitude of faith towards the resurrection are identical in point of faith able to confront and incorporate the supernatural.

Through this emphasis on faith-trust the original Shemitic consciousness was considerably modified. Hitherto the chief element

in it had been fear and awe. Fear did not, of course, vanish from the religion of Abraham. His forms of addressing God on several occasions clearly prove its continuance as a potent element in his religion [cp. Gen. 18:27]. In fact 'the fear of Jehovah' remains throughout the Old Testament the generic name for religion. But henceforth it is a fear that has more of reverence than of dread in it. In this sense it continues to colour the co-ordinate element of friendship and trust with reference to God. There is a peculiar strain of submission, a specific humility mixed with the trustful intercourse [Gen. 17:3; 18:3]; nevertheless, the predominant note is the opposite, the feeling of friendship with God. Nor is this merely a statement of mind cultivated or cherished by Abraham; it is explicitly professed, with divine delight and satisfaction as it were, by God Himself.

The classic expression of this from the divine side is in 18:17–19. God here declares that Abraham stands too near to Him for the thought of hiding his plans from him to be tolerable, for God has 'known' him, i.e., set His affection upon him. The theophanies received by the patriarch are a witness to the same fact. They form a record quite unique. At no point of the Old Testament, the life of Moses perhaps excluded, was there such a divine condescension as during the life of Abraham. If we except Gen. 15, there was a remarkable absence of the frightful in these theophanies. There is something here somewhat resembling God's ancient walk with men in the days of paradise or the life of Enoch. In recognition of all this he was by later generations called 'the friend of God', Jas. 2:23. And even in the midst of the terror of 15:12, there was a most impressive witness to the divine condescension in the remarkable setting of the theophany itself. There is probably no case surpassing this in anthropomorphic realism within the Old Testament. The dividing of the animals and the walking of God (alone) between the pieces literally signifies that God invokes upon Himself the fate of dismemberment in case He should not keep faith with Abraham [cp. Jer. 34:18–19].

A further function exercised by faith in the religious life of the patriarchs was that it spiritualized their attitude towards the

promises. This was brought about in the following way: God not only reserved to Himself the fulfilment, but also refrained from giving the promises their divine fulfilment during the lives of the patriarchs. Thus Abraham learned to possess the promises of God, in the promising God alone. The promises had no chance of becoming materialized through detachment from their centre in God. They could only be had and enjoyed as a part and potential outflow of the divine heart itself. For the promises are like an ethereal garment, more precious than the body of the promised thing over which it is thrown. Had the promises been quickly fulfilled, then the danger would have immediately arisen of their acquiring importance and value apart from God. In later times, when much of them had actually gone into fulfilment, this danger proved very real. The mass of the people fell from the spiritual height of Abraham's faith. The earthly and typical obscured to them the spiritual, and alongside of this there went a fatal losing of interest in Him whose gift the earthly treasures were. In the interpretation of the patriarch's faith given by Hebrews 11, this side of the matter stands in the foreground. Here it is pictured how the patriarchs were contented to dwell in tents, and did not regret the non-possession of the promised land, and the reason for this frame of mind is carefully added: it was not that through faith they looked forward in the vista of time to a more solid and comprehensive possession of Canaan than was possible in their own days; the real reason was that from the earthly, possessed or not-yet-possessed, they had learned to look upward to a form of possession of the promise identifying it more closely with God Himself: 'They looked for the city that has the foundations, whose builder and maker is God' (i.e., because its builder and maker is God) [Heb. 11:10].

Lastly, Abraham's faith had an important bearing on the practical monotheism of patriarchal religion. Such a reliance upon God left no room for the cultivation of or interest in any other 'divine' numen that might have been conceived as existent. It is true, monotheism is nowhere theoretically formulated in the account. But God monopolized Abraham to the extent of the exclusion of all others.

One motive for calling him out of his original environment was the prevalence of polytheism there; this much we learn from later Old Testament statements, e.g., Josh. 24:2, 3; among the branch of Abraham's family that remained in Haran the worship of other gods continued, at least alongside that of Jehovah [Gen. 31:19]. And according to Gen. 35:2, Jacob, on arriving in Canaan, charged his household to put away the foreign gods that were among them.

ETHICAL ELEMENTS

This finishes the discussion of faith. Side by side with it and the three preceding main topics forming the content of patriarchal revelation (election, objectivity, supernaturalism) we must now, under the same heading of content, examine the ethical elements in the patriarchal revelation. Abraham's life was conducted on a high ethical plane. Even the modern critical school agrees with this. Only, they explain this from a later ethicizing treatment of the ancient stories by writers imbued with the prophetic spirit. The record clearly means to give the impression that Abraham's life was not perfect. Why, then, should the idealizing redactors have left so much or any of the less worthy elements uneliminated? While the record does not cover up or condone the patriarchs' defects, it places, over against these, great virtues. Apart from the specifically-religious traits already touched upon under the head of faith, the main virtues emphasized are: hospitality, magnanimity, self-sacrifice, loyalty. Abraham was taught that the religious favour of God cannot continue except accompanied by ethical living. The purpose of God's choosing him was, according to Gen. 18:17–19, that he might command his children to keep the way of Jehovah to do righteousness and justice; and on this was suspended the fulfilment of the promises: 'to the end that Jehovah may bring upon Abraham that which he has spoken of him'. Abraham admits that his prayer for the preservation of Sodom can have no effect, except there be a remnant of righteous men in the city. He recognizes that there is a difference in ethics between the pagans and his own circle, for to Abimelech he says: 'I thought,

surely the fear of God is not in this place', though, curiously enough, he resorts to a half-lie to escape the danger of such inferior ethics.

Ethics are not, however, represented as independent of religion, much less as the sole content of religion; but they are the product of religion. Gen. 17:1 contains the classic expression of this: 'I am ElShaddai; walk before me, then thou shalt be blameless'. The 'walking before Jehovah' pictures the constant presence of Jehovah to his mind as walking behind him, and supervising him. The thought of the divine approval furnishes the motive for obedience. Also the force of El-Shaddai must be noticed. What shapes his conduct is not the general thought of God as moral ruler, but specifically the thought of El-Shaddai, who fills his life with miraculous grace. Thus morality is put on a redemptive basis and inspired by the principle of faith.

Further, the ethical character of Old Testament religion is symbolized by circumcision. This, therefore, is the place for discussing this ceremony. The older theologians were inclined to explain its observance among other nations from their contact with Israel. This is no longer a tenable view. Circumcision was practised not merely by a number of Shemitic proples closely connected with Israel, such as Edom, Ammon, Moab, the Arabs, but it was also widely diffused among non-Shemitic races. It existed among the Egyptians. It has been found among the American tribes, and in islands of the Southern Pacific. It undoubtedly existed before the time of Abraham. We must, therefore, admit that it was not given to Abraham as a previously unknown thing, but introduced into his family invested with a new significance. The rite was everywhere a religious one. Herodotus thought that the Egyptians practised it as a sanitary measure, a view which later found favour among rationalists. At present this notion is well-nigh universally abandoned, although a few writers still assume that, as a secondary motive, the increase of fruitfulness came into play.

In its original conception it was a tribal badge, hence not received in infancy, but when the grown-up young man was for the first time admitted into full tribal rights. But membership in tribe or clan was closely associated with religion. Some have thought of circumcision as a sacrifice, perhaps a remnant of human sacrifice, part doing service for the whole. Others think it a relic of the barbaric custom of self-mutilation in honour of the deity. There is no evidence of this even as regards pagan circumcision. It is absolutely excluded so far as Israel is concerned. The Old Testament forbids every mutilation of the human body, and requires for every sacrifice absolute cleanness, whereas in circumcision precisely the unclean is removed. The removal of uncleanness seems to have everywhere underlain the practice among Israel and outside. It belonged to the ritual sphere, and outside of Israel no deeper ethical or spiritual meaning seems to have been attached to, or developed out of it. But it was God's intention that the ritual should subserve the teaching of ethical and spiritual truth. This was not, however, done by manner of explicit statement. The ritual was at first left to teach its own lesson. All that is enjoined upon Abraham in Gen. 17 is the external performance. In the time of Moses, according to Ex. 6:12, 30, it had begun to be metaphorically used for the removal of disqualification in speech. In Deuteronomy, however, where the prophetic strain of revelation is anticipated, the concept is transferred outright to the spiritual sphere. In Lev. 26:41, the necessity is spoken of that the uncircumcised heart of the Israelites shall be humbled. In Deut. 10:16, Moses exhorts the people to circumcise the foreskin of their hearts. In Deut. 30:6 the thought assumes the form of a promise: 'the Lord thy God will circumcise thine heart, to love the Lord thy God with all thine heart and all thy soul'.

These ideas are further developed in the prophets. Jeremiah says: 'Take away the foreskin of your hearts, ye men of Judah' [4:4]. This prophet also speaks metaphorically, but with a turn towards the ethical, of uncircumcised ears, meaning inability to hearken [6:10]. He threatens the Israelites with judgment, because, like the Egyptians, Edomites, Ammonites, and Moabites, they are

'circumcised in uncircumcision', i.e., while having the external sign, they lack the circumcision of the heart [9:25, 26]. The statement implies that, though for others circumcision might be a purely external thing, for Israel it ought to be something more. Similarly, Ezekiel represents Jehovah as complaining that the house of Israel have brought into the temple aliens uncircumcised in heart and uncircumcised in flesh [44:7]. From the law and the prophets the ethical and spiritual interpretation passed over into the New Testament, where we find it with Paul [Rom. 2:25–29; 4:11; Eph. 2:11; Phil. 3:3; Col. 2:11–13].

For the doctrinal understanding of circumcision two facts are significant; first, it was instituted before the birth of Isaac; secondly, in the accompanying revelation only the second promise, relating to numerous posterity, is referred to. These two facts together show that circumcision has something to do with the process of propagation. Not in the sense that the act is in itself sinful, for there is no trace of this anywhere in the Old Testament. It is not the act but the product, that is, human nature, which is unclean, and stands in need of purification and qualification. Hence circumcision is not, as among pagans, applied to grown-up young men, but to infants on the eighth day. Human nature is unclean and disqualified in its very source. Sin, consequently, is a matter of the race and not of the individual only. The need of qualification had to be specially emphasized under the Old Testament. At that time the promises of God had proximate reference to temporal, natural things. Hereby the danger was created that natural descent might be understood as entitling to the grace of God. Circumcision teaches that physical descent from Abraham is not sufficient to make true Israelites. The uncleanness and disqualification of nature must be taken away. Dogmatically speaking, therefore, circumcision stands for justification and regeneration, plus sanctification [Rom. 4:9–12; Col. 2:11–13].

THE PATRIARCH ISAAC

Isaac's life forms a sharp contrast to that of Abraham. The contrast, strange to say, arises from the similarity. Abraham's history teems with originality; in Isaac's there is repetition of these originalities on almost every page. In the protracted barrenness of his wife, in his exposure to danger in Gerar, in the treatment received from Abimelech, in the differentiation of character between his two sons— in all this the similarity is too striking to be regarded as accidental. It has not escaped the critics, many of whom think that Isaac is a mere genealogical link serving to express the unity between Edom and Israel. All the inventive genius of the legend having been squandered upon Abraham, nothing new remained that could be used to embellish Isaac. But this explains nothing if, as Wellhausen thinks, Abraham's is the latest figure in the patriarchal triad. Dillman offers the genealogical solution of the problem in a different form. According to him there were certain elements in the Abrahamitic immigration, which more faithfully preserved the original customs than the others, and the legend symbolizes this by portraying their representative, Isaac, as doing the same things over again, and repeating the acts and experiences which characterized the life of Abraham.

To this it must be rejoined that similarity in acts and experiences does not fitly symbolize similarity in customs and modes of life. It would have been more expressive in such a case to represent Isaac as dwelling in the same places where Abraham had dwelt, and this is precisely what the Biblical narrative does not do. Hengstenberg comments upon the character of Isaac, which he thinks was passive and impressionable: 'the powerful personality of Abraham made such a deep impression on the soft nature of his son, that he follows him even where imitation is reprehensible'. But this overlooks the principle that, in the history of revelation, character is not to be regarded as an ultimate datum; the revelation does not spring from the character; on the contrary, the character is predetermined by the necessities of the revelation. If, therefore, there be such a scarcity of the new, such a lack of assertive originality, in the story of Isaac, the

reason for this must lie in the need of thus expressing some important revelation principle.

What this principle is we believe has been best expressed by Delitzsch in his observation that 'Isaac is the middle member of the patriarchal triad, and as such throughout a more secondary and passive than active member. The historical process usually illustrates this principle, that the middle part of it is relatively weaker than the beginning, the fundamental figure of its rhythmical motion being the amphimacer'. He seems to affirm this of history in general. It is sufficient for our present purpose to apply it to the history of redemption, and to patriarchal history as a typical part of this. The redeeming work of God passes by its very nature through three stages. Its beginnings are marked by a high degree of energy and productivity; they are creative beginnings. The middle stage is a stage of suffering and self-surrender, and is therefore passive in its aspect. This in turn is followed by the resumed energy of the subjective transformation, characterizing the third stage. Now the middle one of these stages is represented by Isaac.

The principle finds expression, however, not merely in the general lack of originality, but more positively also in the account of the demanded sacrifice of Isaac. As furnishing an illustration of Abraham's faith this has been already discussed; here we are concerned with its objective significance only. Not a few critics have attempted to explain the narrative of Gen. 22 as a polemic of the later prophetic spirit against human sacrifice, which was at that time still sporadically occurring among the Israelites. But there is no trace whatsoever of polemic in the narrative. The statement that God commands Abraham to offer up Isaac distinctly implies that in the abstract the sacrifice of a human being cannot be condemned on principle. It is well to be cautious in committing oneself to that critical opinion, for it strikes at the very root of the atonement. The rejection of the 'blood theology' as a remnant of a very barbaric type of primitive religion rests on such a basis. Other writers have assumed that there is a protest here, not, to be sure, against human

sacrifice, as such, but against that particular form of it which prevailed in Oriental systems of nature-worship, where the gods are believed to be subject to birth and death, and consequently it behoves their devotees to immolate themselves in fellowship with them. But not of this either is there any indication in the narrative. The transaction is not intended to throw light on the mode, but rather on the fundamental principle of sacrifice.

Sacrifice occupies an essential place in the work of redemption. Hitherto this work had been almost exclusively represented as a work of supernatural power. In the life of Abraham this had been most strongly emphasized. Hence there might have easily resulted a certain inadequacy in the expression of the work as a whole. Divine power, while absolutely necessary, covers only one aspect of the process. Sin is disturbance in the moral sphere, and here not power alone but passivity, suffering, atonement, obedience, are required to restore the normal status. All Biblical sacrifice rests on the idea that the gift of life to God, either in consecration or in expiation, is necessary to the action or the restoration of religion. What passes from man to God is not regarded as property but, even though it be property for a symbolic purpose, means always in the last analysis the gift of life. And this is, in the original conception, neither in expiation nor in consecration the gift of alien life; it is the gift of life of the offerer himself. The second principle underlying the idea is that man in the abnormal relations of sin is disqualified for offering this gift of his life in his own person. Hence the principle of vicariousness is brought into play: one life takes the place of another life.

These two principles can here be simply stated; the proof of their Biblical basis must wait till our discussion of the Mosaic system of sacrifice. All that is necessary here is to observe how clearly the two ideas mentioned find expression in the narrative. Abraham is asked by God to offer life, that which in point of life is dearest to him, his only son. At the same time it is declared by the interposition of the Angel and the pointing out of the ram in the thicket, that the

substitution of one life for another life would be acceptable to God. Not the sacrifice of human life as such, but the sacrifice of average sinful human life, is deprecated by the Old Testament. In the Mosaic law these things are taught by an elaborate symbolism. Here on this primordial occasion they find expression through a simple symbolism of an even more eloquent and realistic kind. Thus there was placed side by side with the emphasis on the divine creative omnipotence the stress on the necessity of sacrifice. It is not difficult to trace the coexistence and joint-necessity of both factors in the doctrinal teaching of the New Testament. Paul speaks of the atonement by Christ in words borrowed from this occurrence, Rom. 8:32. It has been suggested that the place where the event happened, one of the mountains of the land of Moriah [Gen. 22:2] links this sacrifice through its locality with the sacrificial cultus in the temple at Jerusalem.

THE PATRIARCH JACOB

The main principle embodied in the history of Jacob-Israel is that of subjective transformation of life, with a renewed stress on the productive activity of the divine factor. This must be kept in mind in order to read the history aright. Of the characters of the three patriarchs, that of Jacob is least represented as an ideal one. Its reprehensible features are rather strongly brought out. This is done in order to show that divine grace is not the reward for, but the source of noble traits. Grace overcoming human sin and transforming human nature is the keynote of the revelation here.

[1] Election

In order to prove this, first of all the principle of election is placed in the foreground, and that not in its racial and transitory, but in its individual and permanent significance. That this should be done here, and not earlier, we might a priori expect. Election is a principle entering specifically into the application of redemption; therefore it should appear in the last member of the patriarchal triad. Election is

intended to bring out the gratuitous character of grace. With regard to the objective part of the work of redemption there is scarcely any need of stressing this. That man himself has made no contribution towards accomplishing the atonement is obvious in itself. But no sooner does the redeeming work enter into the subjectivity of man than the obviousness ceases, although the reality of the principle is not, of course, in the least abated. The semblance easily results, that in receiving and working out the subjective benefits of grace for his transformation, the individual man has to some extent been the decisive factor. And to affirm this, to however small a degree, would be to detract in the same proportion from the monergism of the divine grace and from the glory of God. Hence at this point by an explicit declaration the principle is rendered for ever secure, a principle which the finest psychological observation could never have raised above all possibility of doubt.

This also explains why the declaration comes in at the very beginning of the third part of the patriarchal history, even before the birth of Jacob and Esau. For, from the subsequent lives of these two men it would have been no less difficult than from the lives of ordinary saints to prove that all human goodness is exclusively the fruit of divine grace. For although Jacob, in comparison with Esau, revealed some ethically ignoble qualities, yet in spiritual appreciation of the promise he proved himself the superior of the two. In order to guard against all misunderstandings arising from this, the principle was established at a point where no such considerations, pro or con, could possibly enter into the matter. Even at the risk of exposing the divine sovereignty to the charge of arbitrariness, the matter was decided prior to the birth of the two brothers.

It may indeed be thought that there had been in patriarchal history an earlier occasion, viz., in connection with the birth of Isaac and of Ishmael, for inculcating the lesson involved. Undoubtedly election entered as the determining factor on that occasion likewise; but the point to observe is that there the circumstances were so shaped as to stake everything on the issue of supernaturalism in producing the

seed of the promise. The contrast is between the younger woman, able to bear children by nature, and the older woman, already as good as dead. For making it an exhibition of the moral aspect of election, the fact that Sarah was the free woman and Hagar the slave woman would have stood in the way; whereas for bringing out the factor of omnipotence this contrast between free and slave was negligible. On the other hand, in the case of Jacob and Esau everything is carefully arranged so as to eliminate from the outset all factors tending to obscure the moral issue of the absolute sovereignty of God. The two children are born of the same mother, and moreover at the same birth; and to exclude every thought of natural preference, the younger is preferred to the elder. No conceivable way remained of accounting for this differentiation except to attribute it to the sovereign choice of God. The statement about the elder serving the younger has its proximate reference to the racial relations between the Israelites and the Edomites. But that its import was not exhausted by this appears, apart from the general typical bearing of Old Testament history, from the use made by Paul of the event to establish the principle of individual election [Rom. 9:11–13].

It will be observed that Paul here adds an explanation of the end which the disclosure of this purpose served in the plan of God. The phrase 'the elective purpose of God' is explained in the following words: 'not of works but of Him that calleth'. This is equivalent to: 'not of works but of grace', the idea of 'calling' being with Paul an exponent of divine monergism. Revelation of the doctrine of election, therefore, serves the revelation of the doctrine of grace. God calls attention to His sovereign discrimination between man and man, to place the proper emphasis upon the truth, that His grace alone is the source of all spiritual good to be found in man. Election, consequently, is not according to Scripture a blind unreadable fate; it serves to the extent indicated an intelligible purpose. In this respect it differs from the fate of the pagans, which hangs, an impersonal mystery, even above the gods. The observation thus made is, of course, not capable of solving all the enigmas of the doctrine of election. There may be many other grounds of election, unknown

and unknowable to us. But this one reason we do know, and in knowing it we at the same time know that, whatever other reasons exist, they can have nothing to do with any meritorious ethical condition of the objects of God's choice.

[2] The Bethel dream-vision

The next occasion on which an important revelation element was introduced into the life of Jacob was the dream-vision he received at Bethel [Gen. 28:10–22]. Jacob was on a journey away from the land of promise, moreover on his way to a family infected with idolatry and worldliness, for the imitation of whose sins his own nature predisposed him. There was special need, therefore, at this time, of a personal communication from God to him, whereby subjectively he should be brought under the influence of the promises. The fact of the revelation assuming the form of a dream points, as before noted, to the low ebb of the receiver's spirituality. The vision beheld in the dream is that of a ladder set up on the earth, the top of it reaching to heaven, and the angels of God ascending and descending whilst Jehovah stands at the top and repeats to him the ancient promises. The angels are the ministers of God's interposition for the sustenance, guidance, and protection of Jacob.

In connection with this the name Elohim seems to be significant, all the more because in the sequel of the statement it gives way to Jehovah, where the closer religious relationship is spoken of. The angels ascend, as it were, to carry up Jacob's wants and entreaties; they descend to bring down to him the grace and gifts of God. Dillman finds significance in the feature that the ascending of the angels is mentioned before their descending: the angels were already there ministering in Jacob's behalf before he became aware of their presence. With the tenor of the vision agrees the fact that in the subjective transformation wrought upon the patriarch various subjective experiences and instances of discipline played a large part. But this was only one side of the meaning of the vision. Besides being a reassurance for Jacob's future life, it also bore a sacramental

significance with regard to the continual intimate presence of Jehovah with him. He said 'Surely Jehovah is in this place, and I knew it not' and 'this is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven'.

These words do not necessarily imply surprise at God's general presence and agency in the place, as if Jacob conceived of God as by nature bound to the land of Canaan. We have already seen that what was peculiar to the holy land were the redemptive theophanies, theophanic appearances of God. Jacob evidently wondered at this, that these appearances, if but in a dream, nevertheless remained attached to his person, and followed him in his wanderings. Although now exiled from his father's house, as Ishmael had been, he was not like the latter placed outside of the line of sacred inheritance through which the promises were to be transmitted. And the core of it all lay in the abiding of Jehovah with him wherever he went. Our Saviour Himself placed this deeper second interpretation upon Jacob's vision. When declaring to Nathanael, 'Ye shall see the heavens opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man' [John 1:51], He implied that in His own life and ministry the idea of communion with God illustrated by Jacob's vision had received its supreme realization.

The vow pronounced by Jacob at the close of the vision combines the two elements contained in it in such a way that the ministration for which the angels stood results in binding him to the acceptance of Jehovah as his personal property and object of service. The construction adopted by the Authorized Version, which makes the main clause begin with the words, 'then shall Jehovah be my God', is to be preferred to that of the Revised Version, in which the main clause begins with 'then this stone, etc'. This is the only case in patriarchal history of the promising of a vow.

[3] The wrestling at Peniel

The third event in the history illustrating the specific principle involved is that described in Gen. 32; it relates Jacob's wrestling with a strange person on his return to the land of promise. The transaction is highly mysterious. Many modern interpreters consider it mythical in character. It is asserted that this particular myth was common in various forms among the Shemitic tribes, and that through this episode it obviously found entrance into the patriarchal legend. Varying answers are given to the question, Whom does the strange wrestler represent? Some say, he is the patron-deity of the land disputing Jacob's entrance into it. Or the story is believed to have been originally entirely detached from the given figure of Jacob, and to have represented the contest of the Sun with the demon of Winter. Still others think the story explains the sacredness and popularity of the shrine at Peniel. The shrine was more frequented than others, because there Jacob had wrestled with the deity and compelled the latter to bless him.

In all these modern interpretations the wrestling is interpreted after a purely physical fashion. Jacob was physically stronger than the one who wrestled with him. An over-spiritualizing view often fell into the opposite extreme, interpreting the event as a purely spiritual, internal, perhaps visionary, transaction. But there must have been an external bodily side to the experience, since it left a physical mark upon Jacob. On the other hand, it cannot have been entirely physical either; the terms are not realistic enough for that and differ widely from those in which the pagan myths adduced for comparison are clothed. The veil of mystery overhanging the account is peculiar to it and absent from pagan mythology. In harmony with the character of revelation in the early period the spiritual and physical must have gone hand in hand. Side by side with the physical struggle there must have run an inward contest of the spirit. But these two accompanied each other from beginning to end.

The view has been wrongly advocated, that the outward wrestling and the inward contest are mutually opposed elements, successive the one to the other. The former half would then be a symbolical

summing up of Jacob's entire previous attitude and conduct, placing before him what he had been doing from the beginning, wrestling with God in his natural perversity, and that with such a persistence that, in spite of all His discipline, God did not prevail against him. This wrong wrestling with God symbolized the cunning and deceitful efforts by which he had striven to seize the promises. The encounter showed that these had brought upon him not merely the enmity of Esau but also the displeasure of God. This first stage of the wrestling lasted till the break of day. Then God touched the hollow of his thigh. This symbolized an act by which God forced him to change his previous course of conduct. It was the symbol of the terrifying encounter with Esau that proved the crisis of his life. After this there was no more wrestling by physical force, i.e., by human endeavour. Its place was taken by wrestling in prayer: 'I will not let thee go except thou bless me'. This second stage of the experience, then, would stand for Jacob's subsequent life, purified by divine grace.

The interpretation, while attractive in itself, runs contrary to the plain intent of the narrative. The account evidently wishes us to understand that the touching of the thigh, so far from inducing Jacob to give up the struggle, only made him all the more determined to persist. And only by virtue of this heroic persistence did he in the end obtain the blessing from the stranger. The first stage, therefore, symbolized not a reprehensible but a commendable thing. The very point of the account is that he did not let himself be overcome even by an apparently insurmountable disqualification. It cannot be said that he first had recourse to prayer after his bodily strength was taken away from him. The correctness of this criticism of the view in question is confirmed by the inspired interpretation of the event given in Hosea 12:4, 5: 'In his human strength he fought with God, and he fought with the Angel and prevailed; he wept and made supplication unto him.' Here no two stages of opposite spiritual import are put in contrast; the whole is of one and the same tenor, a glorious example of heroic conduct before God, commendable throughout. It symbolized the strenuous efforts Jacob was making

through the better part of his nature to secure the divine favour and blessing.

In so far it is quite correct to find here an illustration of the persistency of faith and prayer, the Old Testament prototype, as it were, of our Lord's encounter with the Syro-Phoenician woman. Only, while true in general, this view is not specific enough. It is not merely said that Jacob wrestled with the stranger, but also, and even primarily, that the latter wrestled with Jacob. We must, therefore, take into account the element of divine displeasure Jacob had to overcome, always remembering that this entered into the whole transaction from beginning to end. And this fact coloured the frame of mind in which the patriarch prayed, and makes his experience an example for us of prayer, not so much in general, but of a specific kind. It is prayer for forgiveness of sin and the removal of divine displeasure on account of sin that we here find illustrated. And in consonance with this the blessing craved and received was the blessing of pardon and a return to normal relations with God. The event taught Jacob that inheritance of the promises can rest on forgiveness of sin and a purified conscience only.

The change wrought finds expression in the change of name from Jacob to Israel. Jacob means 'he who takes by the heel or supplants'. Israel means 'he who wrestles with God'. Yet, notwithstanding this solemn change of name, the two names Jacob and Israel continue to be used side by side in the narrative. It was different in the case of Abraham. But Abraham was a new name given to express a change in the objective sphere, a destiny assigned by God, exempt from relapse or imperfection. In a subjective transformation, on the other hand, the old is never entirely done away with. As before, side by side with Jacob's perversity, there had been an element of spirituality, so also afterwards, side by side with the now matured spirituality, there remained traces of the old nature. Hence God continued to subject the patriarch to the discipline of affliction even to his old age.

EIGHT:

REVELATION IN THE PERIOD OF

MOSES

This part of the subject can most conveniently be divided up into the following parts:

[A] The place of Moses in the organism of Old Testament revelation.

[B] The form of revelation in the Mosaic period.

[C] The content of the Mosaic revelation.

[A] THE PLACE OF MOSES IN THE ORGANISM OF OLD TESTAMENT REVELATION

Whether Moses can be said to have played a prominent part in the development of the religion of the Old Testament depends on the philosophico-literary-critical standpoint from which the matter is approached. It was difficult for the school of Wellhausen not to reduce the importance of Moses as a leader in religious progress, because they felt bound by their premises to ascribe the role traditionally assigned to him to the great prophets of the eighth century. It was held that these, and not Moses, were the creators of what is distinctive and permanently valuable in the Old Testament religion, namely ethical monotheism. Moses was said not to have been a monotheist, and to have had no conception of God as a spiritual being. This school of criticism regarded all the legal and narrative contents of the Pentateuch, even the Decalogue, as of much later origin than the Mosaic age. Moses was regarded as having united several Hebrew tribes in the worship of Jehovah as the god of their confederacy, but it was held that to this god he gave no other conception qualitatively than had been his before. The relation in

which the newly adopted god stood to his people was regarded as not based on ethical principles, nor cultivated for ethical purposes.

From these statements it will be readily seen how hard it must be for the adherents of such views rationally to account for the prominence of Moses in the religious tradition of Israel. Some, in fact, realizing the impossibility of this, reach the conclusion that the whole figure of Moses is unhistorical, no less than that of the patriarchs. There may have been a Moses-clan, but no person of that name ever existed. For the exodus from Egypt, Mizraim, they substitute a migration of the Moses-clan from Mizrim, a region in Northern Arabia. So Cheyne, for the further details of whose views on this matter an article in the Encyclopaedia Biblica may be compared.

The majority of the Wellhausen school of critics by no means adopt this extreme view. They draw the line where the legendary period ceases and that of history begins in the time of Moses. Hence at least they cannot forego trying to answer the question, how Moses earned the credit of eminent religious leadership that is his by right of tradition. One answer frequently given is that by his political leadership he laid the foundations on which subsequently the higher spiritual religion could be built. But in that case Moses builded better than he knew. Having no intention of producing something religiously new and better, he can claim no credit for the consequences derived from his work. And after all, the very point that the later higher conditions were actually consequences of his political activity is the point standing in need of proof. No successful effort had or has been made to demonstrate in what way precisely the praiseworthy political leadership in course of time gave rise to the raising of the moral plane of life, so that a better God could be born out of them.

It is sometimes said that the great deliverances wrought by Moses in the name of Jehovah established in the consciousness of the people a claim upon their loyalty to Him who through His servant Moses had done all this for them. And this sense of loyalty became the great

lever, of which availing themselves, later leading spirits succeeded in moralizing the religion of Israel. This, however, solves the problem only in words, not actually. Other tribes cannot have lived without similar experiences of deliverance wrought, nor been utterly lacking in a sense of loyalty due, and yet no ethicizing results in their case sprang from this. True, the experiences of the Israelites were extraordinary, and therefore might account for greater results than the mere average good fortunes enjoyed by average nations, and likewise derived by them from their gods. But to appeal to this would come perilously near to admitting that in the case of Israel there was a supernatural factor at work, and this is precisely the thing this class of writers wish to avoid by their construction. After all, loyalty is, considered in the light of ethics, a neutral conception. To be loyal to some god for deliverances received, while not as yet ascribing an ethical character to this god, will not lead to a higher ethical type of religion. It may tighten the hold of divine commands upon man, but it will not alter the nature of the commands from non-ethical to ethical.

The same criticism must be applied to another effort towards solving the same, from the critical standpoint fundamental, problem. It has been suggested that Moses sank the seed of ethical fruitage into the soil of Israel's religion, when through free choice he caused them to adopt Jehovah as their God. Jehovah and Israel did not originally belong together. Thus the religion instituted by Moses was not a nature-religion, but a religion of free choice. To this it should be replied that free choice as such, and not motivated by ethical considerations, is not particularly valuable from a historico-religious point of view. All depends again on the motives from which the choice is directed. Free choice is not a divinity out of whose womb righteous gods and righteous men are born together. It lacks spiritual pregnancy. Unconsciously writers who use this explanation would seem to have put behind the process their own Pelagian appraisal of free choice. Still further, these writers are not willing themselves to admit that the free choice postulated for the time of Moses created an actually free religion for Israel. Some of them

doubt that such a thing as a freely-entered berith took place in that day between Jehovah and Israel. And practically all of them insist that the whole religious relationship remained one of necessity, Jehovah being as much bound to the people as they were bound to Him. Finally, instances are not lacking in the history of religion where other groups have adopted or coadopted new gods after the fashion of a more or less free choice. Syncretism has by no means always been an unconscious or compulsory process. And yet no ethical results have followed.

THE PROMINENCE OF MOSES

We must now show that from very early times Moses did occupy a most prominent place in the religious consciousness of Israel. This can be done without venturing out into the labyrinth of Pentateuchal criticism with all its confusing paths of authorships and dates. Without dispute, in the oldest Pentateuchal stories Moses stands out as the great religious leader of his people, and these stories are, according to the critics, even in their written form, older then the eighth-century prophets. The stories as orally circulating must have been, of course, much older still. In the oldest writing prophets, Amos and Hosea, a supreme place is given to Moses. Hosea says: 'By a prophet Jehovah brought Israel out of Egypt, and by a prophet was he preserved' [Hos. 12:13]. Amos, while not mentioning him by name, evidently thinks of Moses in connection with the words: 'the whole family which I brought up out of the land of Egypt'. And that an ethical purpose was connected with this act of redemption is shown in the next words: 'You only have I known of all the families of the earth: therefore I will visit upon you all your iniquities' [Amos 3:1, 2; cp. Isa. 63:11; Jer. 15:1].

The true, inward significance of Moses, when we place him within the unfolding scheme of revelation, can be made clear in several directions. For one thing he was, retrospectively considered, instrumental in bringing the great patriarchal promises to an incipient fulfilment, at least in their external, provisional

embodiment. Israel became in truth a great nation, and this was due not exclusively to their rapid increase; the organization received through Moses enabled them to attain national coherence. Moses likewise led them to the border of the promised land. With regard to the third promise, it must be admitted that Moses contributed to its fulfilment after a negative fashion only. Before a blessing could actually proceed from Israel to the nations, it was first of all necessary that the fundamental difference between Israel and the nations, that is, the principal difference between the true religion and paganism, should be clearly exhibited. And this was done through the conflict between Israel and Egypt which Moses precipitated. It will be shown afterwards, that this conflict was not superficially confined to the national-political sphere, but sprang from deeper religious principles. Therefore, after a negative fashion, credit for preparing the way for the fulfilment of the third promise also cannot be withheld from Moses.

Prospectively considered Moses also occupies a dominant place in the religious development of the Old Testament. He is placed not merely at the head of the succession of prophets, but placed over them in advance. His authority extends over subsequent ages. The later prophets do not create anything new; they only predict something new. It is true, Moses can be co-ordinated with the prophets: [Deut. 18:18; 'a prophet like unto thee']. Nevertheless the prophets themselves are clearly conscious of the unique position of Moses. They put his work not so much on a line with their own, as with the stupendous eschatological work of Jehovah for His people expected in the latter days [cp. Isa. 10:26; 11:11; 63:11, 12; Jer. 23:5– 8; Mic. 7:15]. According to Num. 12:7, Moses was set over all God's house. It is entirely in keeping with this prospective import of Moses and his work, that his figure acquires typical proportions to an unusual degree. He may be fitly called the redeemer of the Old Testament. Nearly all the terms in use for the redemption of the New Testament can be traced back to his time. There was in his work such a close connection between revealing words and redeeming acts as can be paralleled only from the life of Christ. And the acts of Moses

were to a high degree supernatural, miraculous acts. This typical relation of Moses to Christ can easily be traced in each of the three offices we are accustomed to distinguish in the soteric work of Christ. The 'prophet' of Deut. 18:15, reaching his culmination in the Messiah, is 'like unto' Moses. Moses fulfilled priestly functions at the inauguration of the Old Berith, before the Aaronic priesthood was instituted [Ex. 24:4–8]. Our Lord refers to this as a typical transaction, when inaugurating the New Diatheke at the institution of the supper [Lk. 22:20]. Moses intercedes for Israel after the commission of the sin of the golden calf, and that by offering his own person vicariously for bearing the punishment of the guilty [Ex. 32:30–33]. A royal figure, of course, Moses could not at that time be called, for Jehovah alone is King of Israel. None the less, through his legislative function Moses typified the royal office of Christ.

All this reflected itself in the peculiar relation the people were made to sustain toward Moses. This relation is even described as one of faith and of trust [Ex. 14:31; 19:9]. The resemblance of this relation of the Israelites towards Moses to the relation of the Christian towards Christ had not escaped the notice of Paul, who says that 'our fathers were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea; and were all baptized unto Moses in the cloud and in the sea' [1 Cor. 10:1–3]. Just as in baptism an intimate relation is established between the believer and Christ, based on the saviourship of Christ, even so the mighty acts of divine deliverance wrought through Moses pledged Israel to faith in him. And, as during the ministry of Jesus faith and unbelief proved the two decisive factors, so during the wilderness journey a great drama of faith and unbelief was enacted, deciding the people's fate [Heb. 3; 4].

[B] THE FORM OF REVELATION IN THE MOSAIC PERIOD

Here we must distinguish between the revelation directly communicated to and through the person of Moses, on the one hand, and forms of revelation emerging in his time, but not directly passing through his person.

In harmony with the important role played by Moses, we find a special clearness and directness affirmed of the intercourse between him and God. There was no prophet who was honoured with the direct and continuous access to Jehovah that Moses enjoyed. In this respect also Moses seems to have prefigured Christ. As Christ reveals the Father in virtue of a most direct and an uninterrupted vision of Him, and not as a result of isolated communications, so Moses, though to a lower degree, stands nearer to God, and is more, in all that he speaks and does, the mouthpiece of God than any subsequent prophet. The distinction between Moses, on the one hand, and Aaron and Miriam on the other, is formulated in Num. 12. Here he is called 'my servant Moses', not in the menial sense of merely a servant, but in the high sense of a trusted servant, initiated into all that his master does. He is faithful in all God's house. This name 'Servant of Jehovah' is afterwards given to the Messiah, in the prophecy of Isaiah. Moses appreciated the unique distinction implied in this [Ex. 33:12].

Most strikingly Moses' intimate relation to God and the honour it conferred are symbolized by the reflection of divine glory on his countenance after the forty days and forty nights spent with God upon the mountain [Ex. 34:29ff.]. Paul, while recognizing the greatness, dwells rather on its limitations, as compared with the glory of his own ministration under the New Diatheke, in 2 Cor. 3. The Pentateuch itself recognizes these limitations. According to Ex. 33:17–23, Moses was not permitted to see the 'face' of God, but only as it is anthropomorphically called, his 'back'. It is no contradiction to this, when in Num. 12 Moses is said to behold the temunah, the 'form of God', for this is not identical with the 'face'. True, it is also said that God spake with him 'face to face' [Ex. 33:11]. 'Face to face' is an adverbial phrase synonymous with 'mouth to mouth', and by no means equivalent to a vision of the divine face [Num. 12:8]. Compare further, Ex. 34:5: 'stood with him there and proclaimed the name of Jehovah'. Also 33:18, 19: 'Show me thy glory'.… 'I will make all my goodness [probably "goodliness", "loveliness"] pass before thee and will proclaim the name of Jehovah before thee'. On the occasion of

Ex. 24:10, when Moses with the others had gone up on the mountain, after the making of the berith, in order to 'see' the God of Israel, what they actually saw was not the divine face, but only, as it were, God's 'feet'. This is the same idea as is expressed in the figure of the 'back of God' [Ex. 33:23].

The forms of revelation connected with the work of Moses, though not communicated through him personally, are four in number: The pillar and the cloud, the Angel of Jehovah, the Name of Jehovah, the Face of Jehovah. These have in common that they express the permanence of the divine presence, and are distinguished in that respect from the fleeting, ephemeral forms of manifestation in the patriarchal period. The significance of this can be understood only if it be placed in the larger setting of the divine communication with mankind in general. Before the fall there was such an abiding presence of God with man in paradise. After the fall a certain remnant of this continued, though not in the old gracious form. The throne with the Cherubim still stood in the East of the garden of God. God still walked with Enoch. With the flood all this is changed. God has, as it were, withdrawn this sacramental revelation-presence into heaven. This, however, was an abnormal state of things, for the ultimate design of all God's converse with man is, that He may make His abode with His people. Consequently from now on all revelation tends towards the realization of this design. The theophanies of the patriarchal period must be regarded as incipient fulfilments of it. But the fulfilment was only partial. The presence was there only at times; it was granted to a few select persons only; it was confined to the great turning-points in their history; it was veiled in deepest mystery. With the time of Moses there came the opposite to this in all respects.

THE PILLAR OF CLOUD AND FIRE

Of the pillar of cloud and fire we read in the following passages: Ex. 13:21, 22, where it is explicitly stated that Jehovah was in the phenomenon, and that it did not depart from before the people;

afterwards it moves to a position behind them so as to be between them and their Egyptian pursuers before the passage through the Red Sea [Ex. 14:19, 20]; through the pillar Jehovah looks forth upon the Egyptians to discomfit them [Ex. 14:24]; when the people murmured because they doubted the divine presence with them, the glory of Jehovah appeared in the cloud [Ex. 16:10]; next we meet with a cloud revealing Jehovah on Sinai at the giving of the law, which cloud is also called a 'fire', although nothing is said about a pillar on this occasion [Ex. 19:9, 16, 18]; in Ex. 24:16 this same cloud upon Sinai is mentioned again as containing the glory of Jehovah, the appearance of which is described as 'like devouring fire' [vs. 17], and Moses enters into the midst of the cloud [vs. 18]; after this we meet with the pillar again in Ex. 33:9; where it descends (from the mount or from heaven?) and stands at the door of the provisional tent pitched by Moses, while all the people worship every one at his tent door [vs. 10]; according to Ex. 34:5, Jehovah descends from heaven in the cloud upon Mount Sinai. It is altogether probable that the so-called Shekinah, the glory in the holy of holies of tabernacle and temple, was a continuation of all this; in fact the feature of permanence so strongly emphasized almost requires it. Of this, however, we shall speak later when dealing with the tabernacle.

THE ANGEL OF JEHOVAH

Of the Angel of Jehovah we read first in Ex. 3:2, where He appears to Moses in a flame of fire out of the midst of the bush, and His identity with God is shown by the fact of God's calling unto Moses out of the bush. Next we find Him referred to in Ex. 14:19; here He goes before the camp of Israel, and with the pillar moves from before to behind. In Ex. 23:20, 21 a formal promise is made regarding Him; He is to accompany Israel: 'Behold, I send an Angel before thee, to keep thee by the way, and to bring thee unto the place which I have prepared; take ye heed before him, and hearken unto his voice; provoke him not; for he will not pardon your transgression: for my name is in him'. The entire tenor of this passage forbids our thinking that an ordinary angel is spoken of, although the text reads 'an angel', not

'the angel'. From the Septuagint reading 'my angel' we may infer that this form (with the suffix) stood originally in the Hebrew text. We learn from the statement that the Angel's function was the comprehensive one of leading the people to Canaan. We further learn that, in respect of sinning against Him, He is identical with God. On the other hand, in Ex. 32:34 we meet with 'my angel', and in Ex. 33:2 with 'an angel'. The situation here requires this, for the sending of the angel appears as a retraction of Jehovah's original promise that He Himself would go with the people [Ex. 33:3–5], and the sending of 'the Angel of Jehovah' could not have been represented as anything less than Jehovah's own going. It is only after Moses' expostulation at the changed proposal that God finally is prevailed upon to abide by the original agreement: 'my Presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest' [Ex. 33:14].

The Angel of Jehovah appears in the history of Balaam, Num. 22, where he frustrates Balak's design for cursing Israel. This forms a concrete instance of His general task consisting in the guidance and defence of His people [cp. Num. 20:16].

THE NAME AND THE FACE OF JEHOVAH

In two of the Angel contexts discussed we have already met with the two remaining revelation forms, 'the Name' and 'the Face' of Jehovah. 'The Name' we encountered in Ex. 23:21, where it is affirmed that 'the Name' is in the Angel. Nothing short of identification can be meant by this, for it is stated as the ground why sin committed against the Name-bearing Angel will not be pardoned by Him. The other form, 'the Presence', met us in Ex. 33:14, 'My Presence shall go with thee'. This must be equivalent to Jehovah's own going [cp. vs. 17]. 'Presence' stands for the Hebrew Panim which also proves the identification. The Panim is likewise identified with the Angel. Isaiah, referring to the wilderness-journey, says that the Angel of God's Panim saved the people [Isa. 63:9].

One more identification occurs in Deuteronomy. It is that between the 'Name' and the glory in the sanctuary. Jehovah is said to have put His 'Name' in the place of the sanctuary. The place where His 'Name' is, is called His habitation. Jehovah causes His 'Name' to dwell there [Deut. 12:5, 11, 21; 14:23, 24; 16:2, 6, 11; 26:2]. It is plain, especially from the latter way of speaking, that the phrase is meant to be understood realistically. It is not a mere figure of speech for saying that the sanctuary is God's property, nor that His magnificent Name is in the exercise of the cultus pronounced or called upon there. Of 'dwelling' in the sanctuary God Himself is always the subject.

From the foregoing it will be noted that to the three meanings previously found for the Name of God in a religious sense a fourth one must be added. In this fourth sense the Name is not something in the apprehension of man; it is objective, equivalent to Jehovah Himself. Still there always remains a difference in point of view between Jehovah as such and His 'Name'. The 'Name' is God in revelation. And the same distinction applies to the use of the Shekinah, the Angel and the Presence.

[C] THE CONTENT OF THE MOSAIC REVELATION

We now come to the discussion of the content of the Mosaic Revelation. This part of the subject is complex, and hence it will be necessary clearly to place before ourselves at the outset the main divisions belonging to it. These are:

(a) the factual basis of the Mosaic organization given in the redemption from Egypt;

(b) the making of the Berith with Israel with which the organization entered into being;

(c) the general nature of the organization, the theocracy;

(d) the Decalogue;

(e) the ritual law, its symbolical and typical character, with the three strands composing it, that of divine indwelling, that of sacrifice, that of purification.

[1] The factual basis of the Mosaic organization consisting in the redemption from Egypt

The exodus from Egypt is the Old Testament redemption. This is not an anachronistic, allegorizing manner of speaking. It is based on the inner coherence of Old Testament and New Testament religion itself. These two, however different their forms of expression, are yet one in principle. The same purpose and method of God run through both. If, as is frequently urged nowadays, the Old Testament should be rejected and scorned as unworthy of the ideal religion, one may be sure that this attitude is due to abandonment of the entire soteric strain of the Biblical religion as such. There may be, of course, single uncongenial features telling in the opinion of some against the Old Testament, but the source of the antagonism lies deeper, and will be found, on closer examination, to relate to what Old Testament and New Testament have in common, the realism of redemption. The substance upon which the impression was made under the Old Testament may have been earthly clay; none the less the matrix that stamped it bore the lineaments of eternal law and truth. We can here observe again how inseparably revelation through words is united to facts, nay how for whole stretches the demarcation line between acts and words may even seem to have been lost altogether.

There is an irreconcilable difference between the religious consciousness that is at all times clearly or dimly aware of springing up and drawing nourishment from this soil of facts, and the consciousness that has emancipated itself from belief in the reality of the facts. Nor is it a difference in belief only; it is a difference in atmosphere and feeling of self. In spite of all his limitations the Old Testament believer stands nearer to us in this respect than the socalled modern idealizer or spiritualizer of the Christian religion. The closest linking together of the facts and the practice of religious life is

observable at this very point now reached by us. The Decalogue opens with one of the most profound references to the soteric procedure of God in delivering the people from Egypt [Ex. 20:2]. The first offer of the Berith is preceded by an even more elaborate statement that seems baptized in the very warmth of divine affection [19:4]. And the long introductory discourse of Deuteronomy, semiprophetic in spirit, partakes of the same tone and character. As late as Isaiah the people are called upon to remind themselves of the ultimate roots of their religious origin in the things Jehovah did for them in the remote past [Isa. 51:2].

What then are the outstanding principles of the exodus-deliverance that were thus made regulative of all future salvation and bind things past and things to come indissolubly together?

DELIVERANCE FROM FOREIGN BONDAGE

First of all, redemption is here portrayed as, before everything else, a deliverance from an objective realm of sin and evil. The favourite individualizing and internalizing of sin finds no support here. No people of God can spring into existence without being cut loose from a world opposed to God and to themselves in their very origin. The Egyptian power is in this respect as truly typical as the divine power that wrought the deliverance. Its attitude and activity were shaped with this in view. What held under the Hebrews was not mere political dependence, but harsh bondage. Their condition is represented as a condition of slavery. The Egyptians exploited them for selfish ends regardless of Israel's own welfare. Ever since, redemption has attached to itself this imagery of enslavement to an alien power. John 8:33–36 as well as Rom. 8:20–21, reach back into these far origins.

Further, to this enslaving power a high degree of malignity is ascribed, that it might fitly typify the mind of sin in the world. In part at least the hardening of Pharaoh's heart is explainable from the same reason. His obduracy was to reveal the true inward nature of

that of which he was a figure. Of course, this hardening was by no means an arbitrary divine act; it was a judicial process: the king first hardened himself, and then, in punishment for this, he was further hardened by God. It is the well-known Scriptural law of sin being punished by irretrievable abandonment to sin, a law by no means confined to the Old Testament, but found in the New Testament as well. The ethics of the matter, however, do not concern us here. This kingdom of evil headed up in Pharaoh embraces first of all the human elements of paganism. Probably, however, the account does not mean to confine it to this. Sin is at every point more than the sum-total of purely human influences it brings to bear upon its victims. A religious, demonic background is thrown back of the human figures that move across the canvas. Not merely the Egyptians, but likewise the Egyptians' gods are involved in the conflict. The plagues come in here for notice. They are inextricably mixed up with the Egyptian idolatry. This idolatry was natureworship, embracing the good and beneficent as well as the evil and baneful aspects of nature. Jehovah, in making these harm their own worshippers, shows His superiority to this whole realm of evil. This is stated in so many words: 'Against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgment: I am Jehovah' [Ex. 12:12]. The same demonic powers that were concerned in the antitypical redemption wrought by Christ, and there displayed their intensest activity, had a hand in this opposition to the redemption from Egypt.

DELIVERANCE FROM SIN

So much for the objective side of the matter. There was, however, a subjective side to it also. The Hebrews were delivered not merely from outside foreign bondage, they were likewise rescued from inward spiritual degradation and sin. Two views have been taken as to the religious condition of the people at this time. According to one they had practically lost all knowledge of the true God, and were deeply immersed in and identified with the idolatrous practices of the Egyptians. This was the view of John Spencer, an English

theologian of the Seventeenth Century, advocated in his work De Legibus Hebraeorum Ritualibus.

Connected with this theory was a peculiar opinion concerning the origin of the ceremonial laws imposed upon the people in the time of Moses. The purpose of these laws was to leave room for a gradual weaning away of the Hebrews from their idolatrous Egyptian customs. God, fearing lest a too sudden prohibition of these customs should cause an utter relapse into heathenism, condescended to tolerate their observance for a season. The other view falls into the opposite extreme. It assumes that the Israelites had on the whole kept themselves from contamination with the idolatry of Egypt. Both views in their extreme form must be rejected. The true religion had not entirely vanished from among Israel. They still knew enough to perceive that Jehovah was the God of their fathers, for in the name of the God of the patriarchs Moses was sent to them. Names compounded with El are found in the record. They must have felt themselves to some extent specifically Shemitic in their religious traditions.

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