Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Broad Motifs In The Old Testament
Having demonstrated that the tension under study erupts in specific passages, it is now necessary to turn to the Hebrew canon at large and observe how both human responsibility and divine sovereignty are worked into the very fabric of these writings. The result, as we shall see, is a tension of varied forms, a tension very frequently assumed and never far from the surface, even if it is seldom made explicit.
men as responsible
1. Men face a plethora of exhortations and commands
The point is so obvious that it scarcely requires making. From the first prohibition in Eden (Gen. 2:16f.), through commands to individuals like Noah and Abraham—whether commands to build an ark or to walk blamelessly (Gen. 6:13ff.; 17:1–6)—to the prescriptions laid on the covenant people, human responsibility is presupposed. Such prescriptions include the details of tabernacle construction and acceptable cultic worship, as well as the broad ‘moral’ commandments, specific civil legislation, and sweeping commands to be holy. The requirements of God touch all of life, not merely worship abstracted from life, with the result that his people are to be different from the surrounding nations. (Cf. Exod. 20:3ff.; Lev. 11:44f.; 20:7f.; 22:31–3; Deut. 10:12f.; 12:29–31; 14:1f.; Isa. 56:1; Jonah 1:2; Mic. 6:8; Mal. 3:10; Ps. 119:1–3; etc.)
In addition, men are exhorted to seek the Lord: this theme is particularly reiterated by the prophets (e.g. Isa. 55:6f.; Amos 5:6–9; Zeph. 2:3). The Tabernacle itself was established as a place where men might seek Yahweh (Exod. 33:7). Deuteronomy encourages the people to believe that after they have rebelled and God has turned away from them, they will find him again when they seek for him (Deut. 4:26–32; 30:1–3). God has only good purposes for those who seek him (Ezra 8:22f.). Asa is bluntly told, ‘The Lord is with you, while you are with him. If you seek him, he will be found by you, but if you forsake him, he will forsake you’ (2 Chr. 15:2). The Psalms frequently spell out the same message (e.g. 105:4; 145:18).
2. Men are said to obey, believe, choose
God may choose Abraham and promise him great blessing; but it is Abraham who believes the promise (Gen. 15:4–6) and obeys God’s voice (Gen. 22:16–18). In Exodus the Israelites agree to be obedient (Exod. 19:8; 24:3–7). Frequently they do ‘just as God commanded’ (e.g. Exod. 16:34; 38–40; Num. 8:20; 9:8, 23; 31:31); indeed, even with a willing heart (Exod. 35:5, 21). The Israelites are told to choose Yahweh (Deut. 30:15–19; Josh. 24:14–25; 1 Kgs. 18:22), and indeed do so (Josh. 24:22); and when instead they serve the gods of pagan neighbours, it is because they have chosen them (Judg. 10:14). They make solemn vows (e.g. Num. 21:2; Judg. 11:30f.). Two ways are set before the people (cf. Lev. 26:1–45; Deut. 28; 30:15–20; Ps. 1), and the way that brings blessing turns on human repentance and obedience. Similarly in human relationships, there is a certain freedom of choice (e.g. Num. 36:6). All such categories presuppose human responsibility.
3. Men sin and rebel
From the first disobedience onward, the pages of the Old Testament are blotched with every conceivable form of transgression. The imagination of men turns constantly toward evil; and this description (Gen. 6:5) could rightly be applied to more than antediluvian people. The resources of language are exhausted as the loathsomeness of particularly vile men or periods is ruthlessly exposed (e.g. Gen. 18:20f; Exod. 32:7–14; Num. 16:3–35; Judg. 19f.; Deut. 1:26ff.; 9:22–4; 2 Kgs. 17:34–41; Isa. 1:2ff.; 30:9ff.; Jer. 2:13ff.; 5:3; 6:16f.; 42:10ff.; Ezek. 8; 22; Hos. 2:7; 4:2, 7, 13). The people ‘corrupt themselves’ (Exod. 32:7), or do what is right in their own eyes (Judg. 17:6; 21:25). Such language is incongruous if men are not rightly held accountable for what they are and do.
4. Men’s sins are judged by God
Men are not held to be responsible in some merely abstract fashion; they are responsible to someone. God is the judge of all the earth, of all nations; men are ultimately answerable to him. Drumming through the Old Testament is the motif of judgment. Yahweh reacts against sin with terrible punishments. Even those parts of the Old Testament which wrestle with the fact that God’s judgments are not always immediate and temporal do not diminish this theme, but prepare the way for a heavier accent on the certainty of eschatological judgment. (Cf. Gen. 6–8; 18:25; Exod. 23:7; 32:7–12, 26–35; Lev. 10:1ff.; Num. 11:1ff.; 16:3–35; Deut. 32:19–22; Josh. 7; Judg. 2:11ff.; 3:5ff.; 4:1ff.; 1 Sam. 25:38f.; 2 Sam. 21:1; 2 Kgs. 17:18ff.; 22:15ff.; 23:26ff.; Isa. 14:26f.; 66:4; Jer. 7:13f.; Ezek. 5:8ff.; 25–28; Nahum 3:1ff.; Hag. 1:9–11; Zech. 7:12–14; Ps. 75:6f.; 82:8; 96:10; Eccles. 11:9; 12:14.) Human accountability is all the more deeply stressed when the writers insist God is longsuffering and slow to anger (Exod. 34:6; Num. 14:18; Joel 2:13; Jonah 4:2; Ps. 86:15; 103:8; Neh. 9:17). In short: divine judgment presupposes human responsibility.
5. Men are tested by God
The testing of men is often couched in the anthropomorphic language by which Yahweh declares he wishes to know what is in men’s hearts (e.g. Gen. 22:12; Exod. 16:4; Deut. 13:1–4; Judg. 2:20–3:4; 2 Chr. 32:31); but this is not invariably so (e.g. Ps. 11:5; 105:19). From the examples cited in these references it is clear that God’s tests can be directed either toward individuals or toward his entire people. Such tests entail no guaranteed result: Abraham passes his test, Hezekiah does not. Some tests spring out of God’s judicial discipline of sin previously committed by the people (e.g. Judg. 2:20–3:4). In any case the testing inevitably concerns the obedience and faithfulness of those tested, and presupposes their accountability for such virtues.
6. Men receive divine rewards
This point overlaps the last two. Judgment, after all, may be viewed as negative reward; and the tests of the Old Testament entail positive reward for those who pass them. These positive rewards now concern us. The blessing of Abraham is related to his obedience (Gen. 22:18). The midwives of the captive Israelites are blessed because they feared God (Exod. 1:20f.). The people are assured that if they will obey they will see Yahweh’s glory (Lev. 9:6); if they keep the law they will live (18:3–6). Caleb receives special treatment because he follows Yahweh fully (Num. 11:32; Josh. 14:9, 14). God will thrust out the rest of the Canaanites, but the people must be obedient (Josh. 23:4–9). If the people will return to Yahweh, acknowledging their sin, he will bless them (Jer. 3:12–22; 7:3–7, 23–28). God will stuff the storehouses of the people if they will be faithful in the matter of tithes and offerings (Mal. 3:10f.). Much of the prophetic preaching looks forward to great blessing, contingent upon the obedience of the people (e.g. Isa. 58:10–14; Jer. 7:23; Zech. 6:15). Such promises appear utterly ridiculous if human responsibility is not presupposed.
7. Human responsibility may arise out of God’s initiative
Whatever the implications of election in the Old Testament (infra), it is clear that although election brought high privilege to Israel, ‘it also laid heavy responsibility on her, and was charged with constraint, which she could only disclaim to her hurt.’ Here is responsibility arising out of Yahweh’s choice. The prophets especially make it clear that the privilege of election by Yahweh brings with it extensive demands on his people. Judge of all the nations Yahweh may be; but Amos insists that Yahweh’s ‘knowing’ of Israel in particular is in fact the basis of special and imminent judgment (Amos 3:2). The responsibility which Israel faces stems not so much from God’s naked choice of the nation, as from that allegiance to him which is entailed by election. Once the law is given, allegiance to Yahweh and obedience to the law can scarcely be distinguished. Hence, responsibility to obey all that Yahweh has commanded is based on, and arises out of, the election of Israel. (Cf. Exod. 19:4–6; Deut. 4:5–8; 6:6ff.; 10:15ff.; 11:7–9; Hos. 13:4; Mic. 3:2.)
The Wisdom literature never descends to the level of secular common sense, partly because the demands of Yahweh lie inextricably interwoven with others in which no explicit reference to Yahweh is made, but even more because, in the latter cases, it is presupposed that the fear of Yahweh is fundamental to wisdom (cf. Prov. 9:10; 16:7–12)—this Yahweh who, it is understood from Deuteronomy on, always commands what is for the good of his people (Deut. 6:24). Privilege stemming from divine grace enhances responsibility, and never reduces it.
8. The prayers of men are not mere show-pieces
That God has spoken propositionally was a fundamental conviction of the Old Testament writers. But the intercourse between God and man involved man speaking to God as well. Man’s voice in addressing God is never the pre-programmed recording of the robot; it is the adoration of worship, the cry of desperation, the relief of gratitude, the petition of the needy. The personal, accountable character of man is nowhere more clearly seen than in his prayers of intercession and petition.
Some such prayers are well-planned, even if intense (e.g. 1 Kgs. 8:46ff.; 2 Chr. 7:12–22). Others are the cries of desperation (e.g. Exod. 32:7–13, 31f.; Josh. 10:11–14). Some are answered positively (e.g. Gen. 25:21; Judg. 6:36–40; 1 Kgs. 3:6–9; 2 Kgs. 20:1–6; Isa. 38); and others are categorically turned down (e.g. Jer. 14:11; 15:1f.; 1 Sam. 15:35–16:1). Some prayers magnify the wretchedness of sin (e.g. Exod. 32; Deut. 9:25ff.), others the greatness of Yahweh and his love for Israel (e.g. Josh. 10:12–14). In any case, the idea that men may prevail in prayer with God again presupposes human responsibility, and a significant measure of human freedom; for such language depicts the interplay of personalities, not the determinism of machines.
9. God utters pleas for repentance
The pre-exilic prophets unite in presenting Yahweh as the one who finds no pleasure in the death of the wicked, who pleads with men to return to him and avoid the otherwise inevitable and horrible consequences of their own rebellion. When he does afflict his people, it is unwillingly. (Cf. Isa. 30:18; 65:2; Lam. 3:31–6; Ezek. 18:30–32; 33:11; Hos. 11:7ff.) Even when all due allowance is made for anthropomorphisms, the necessary conclusion is that men are viewed as responsible creatures whose rebellion Yahweh is enduring with merciful if painful forbearance, and punishing with reluctant wrath.
10. Concluding remarks
Qoheleth reminds us that God made men upright, but they have sought out many ‘devices’ (Eccl. 7:29). God is customarily in some way removed from man when he sins. This pattern of preserving a distance between God and sin comes to the fore in God’s rejection of sinners, a rejection which, far from asserting God’s contingency, underlines rather the certainty of his holy judgment (especially when divine omniscience is in view: e.g. Isa. 29:15f.; Jer. 16:17f.) or the real guilt of the transgressor (e.g. 1 Sam. 15:23b). When instead God is implicated as the cause (in some sense) of a particular sin, there are invariably other factors involved, notably a display of his judicial hardening or of his sovereign hand behind a major event of salvation history.
It is instructive to observe how the various motifs discussed above function in the Old Testament writings. Injunctions to choose Yahweh, and the tests which God administers to men and nations, are not given to evoke metaphysical definitions concerning the nature and limitations of human freedom, but to command committed assent and obedience. When a right choice is made (e.g. Josh. 24:22), it tends to become an incentive for continued faithfulness and the fresh abandonment of encroaching idolatry. Similarly the positive rewards which follow faith and obedience (e.g. Gen. 22:18; Exod. 1:20f.; Num. 11:32; Josh. 23:4–9) become motivation for increased and continuing obedience, not grounds for boasting once they have been attained. At most, conduct pleasing to God may function in some petitions as the ground for vindication and divine approval (as in some psalms—e.g. 34, 69, 79, 109, 137; cf. also Neh. 5:19; 13:14, 22, 31), but even in these cases there is no self-confident boasting. When contingency language is used of God, it does not function as a basis on which conclusions may be drawn concerning his ontological limitations: for example, statements about his longsuffering function to underscore the enormity of sin (Num. 14:18), as a foil for human littleness (Jer. 15:15; Ps. 86:15), and as an attribute to be praised (Exod. 34:6). Similarly, God’s pleas for men to repent heighten human wickedness and justify divine wrath (e.g. Jer. 3:22; Ezek. 18:30f.; 33:11; Hos. 14:1), and may even be taken as a measure of his love and hence the evidence that he will act unilaterally on behalf of his people (e.g. Isa. 30:18f.; Hos. 11:7–9).
god as sovereign
If the Old Testament writers everywhere presuppose human responsibility, they not only presuppose divine sovereignty but insistently underscore it, even when the devastations of observable phenomena appear to fly in the face of such belief.
1. God the Creator, Possessor, and Ruler of all
Not only did God make everything (Gen. 1f.; Isa. 42:5; Ps. 102:25; Neh. 9:6; etc.), he made it all good (Gen. 1:31). When Israel sang Yahweh’s praise, the remembrance of the fact that he was Maker of heaven and earth afforded great comfort to the people (Ps. 121:2; 124:8). It is not surprising therefore to learn that God is the possessor of heaven and earth (Gen. 14:19, 22 (nasb); Ps. 89:11; 1 Chr. 29:11f.), or to hear Yahweh insist that all is his (Exod. 19:5; Deut. 10:14; Job 41:3). Hand in hand with such a conception goes the omnipotence of Yahweh. If Yahweh made the heaven and earth, he is the ‘God of all flesh’, and nothing is too hard for him (Jer. 32:17, 27; Job 42:2). Since all things are his, no one can give him anything (Job 41:11). All history and nature are at his disposal.
It follows that, if God is sovereign over all the earth, he reigns over all nations (Ps. 47:8f.; 60:6–8; 83:17f.; etc.). This is reasonable enough: all nations belong to him (Ps. 82:8). Indeed, it is when Israel’s fortunes plummet to the darkest depths that her prophets most clearly see Yahweh’s sovereignty over all foreign powers, and take comfort in this truth. The substance of Dan. 2, 4, 7f., 10, 11f. is that the Most High rules the kingdom of men (4:25.). To Yahweh, the nations are a mere drop in the bucket, the fine dust of the balance, less than nothing (Isa. 40:15ff.). The pre-exilic prophets in particular teach that Yahweh ‘raises or calls up on the stage of history foreign peoples, Assyrians, Egyptians, Syrians, Philistines, to use them as His instruments … (and) that the foreign peoples, who menaced Israel, were raised up by Yahweh to carry out His plans for the elect people.’ (Cf. Isa. 7:18; 9:10f.; 10:5f., 26; Jer. 2:6f.; 27:4–8; 31:32; Hos. 2:17; 11:1; 13:4; Amos 2:9f.; 3:1; 9:7; Mic. 6:3ff.; etc.) Examples might easily be multiplied. Yahweh appoints Jehu and Hazael to their tasks; raises Rezin and Pekah against Israel; calls up the king of Assyria; sends the Medes against Babylon, and the Philistines and the Arabians against Judah (1 Kings 19:15–17; 2 Kings 15:37 and Isa. 9:10f.; Isa. 7:17ff. and 10:5; 13:17–19; 2 Chr. 21:16f.). Nor are these foreign powers used only for destruction: Cyrus and the Persians are raised up to restore Israel to the land of her fathers (Isa. 45:1ff.; Ezra 1:1).
Yahweh can well judge all men and nations (Ps. 67:5), for not only is he all-powerful, he is all-knowing. His omniscience is not infrequently associated with the certainty and exhaustive nature of his impending judgment (e.g. Isa. 29:15f.; Jer. 16:16–18; Ezek. 11:2, 5; Ps. 139:1ff.; Prov. 5:21; 24:2). When Yahweh has decreed judgment on all nations, who can turn back his hand (Isa. 14:26f.)?
There is no god like the God of Israel (Deut. 32:36–43; 33:26f.; Isa. 40:10ff.). Yahweh has prepared his throne in the heavens, and his kingdom rules over all (Ps. 103:19). All life is dependent on him; should he take away their breath, they would perish (Ps. 104:27–30). The idols of men are impotent; but the God of Israel, whose abode is in the heavens, does whatever he pleases in every sphere of the created universe (Ps. 115:3; 135:5f.). It is not surprising to learn therefore that all of a man’s days are ordained by God (Ps. 139:16; Prov. 20:24). Certainly no wisdom or counsel can frustrate him (Prov. 21:30). Yahweh is absolutely sovereign (Isa. 43:13; 44:24–7; Eccles. 3:14; 7:13f.; Dan. 2:19–22; 4:31f., 34). Wind, calamity, prosperity—all are under his control (e.g. Exod. 15:10; Isa. 54:16; Jer. 47:7; Amos 3:5f; Lam. 3:37–9). It is rare to hear that ‘it rains’ (Amos 4:7 is close): men prefer to say that God sends rain (Ps. 65:10; Job 36:27; 38:26). Job enlarges upon God’s detailed control of men and nature (Job 14:5; 28:24–7 38:8–11, 33; cf. Isa. 40:12, 26; Jer. 5:22; 31:35f.; Jonah 1:17; 4:6ff.; Ps. 104:9f.; 148:3ff.; Prov. 8:27). ‘Israel, too, knows of conception and birth, of streams that go to the sea, and of the cycle of nature. But this knowledge does not stifle her “Thou, Lord”. In her knowledge, she still looks to the living God, the Unchangeable.’ Chance is excluded; and if here and there we read of something that might be considered a chance event, it is not really thought of apart from God’s direction (1 Sam. 6:9; 20:26; 1 Kgs. 22:34; Ruth 2:3; 2 Chr. 18:33). Hence the lot is used to discover Yahweh’s will, ‘and is didactically recognised as under His control’ (Prov. 16:33; cf. Josh. 7:16; 14:2; 18:6; 1 Sam. 10:19–21; Jonah 1:7).
With such sweeping sovereignty at his disposal, Yahweh’s predictions concerning what will take place in the future, and his control over that future, cannot always be decisively distinguished (cf. Gen. 15:13–16; 25:22f.; 41:16, 25, 32; Josh. 6:26 and 1 Kgs. 16:34; Isa. 46:8–10; 48:5f.). What he decrees must come to pass.
The ways in which the divine activity are presented are very diverse, and cannot be set under a single common denominator. Yahweh may break into history dramatically and send ten plagues (Exod. 5ff), flash fire from heaven (1 Kgs. 18:38). or force Sennacherib and his hordes into premature retreat (Isa. 37); but ‘it is striking to observe how often the purpose of God is reached without radical intervention.’ He uses Saul and his army to fulfil his vow against the Amalekites (1 Sam. 15:2–6); or, more subtly, he so rules in the conflict between the Shechemites and Abimelech, without their knowledge, that both parties are destroyed. This is Yahweh’s fitting retribution for the sin of Abimelech towards his brothers and for the shameful assistance of the Shechemites.
The rule of Yahweh over history entails a teleological perspective, for such an almighty and all-knowing Person cannot be supposed to govern unconsciously or capriciously. Lindblom lays heavy stress on this point in his discussion of the pre-exilic prophets:
What distinguishes the prophetic view of history from that of other oriental peoples is not the thought that Yahweh works in historical events, but rather that the prophets regarded the history of Israel as a coherent history directed by moral principles and in accordance with a fixed plan. At the beginning of the history stood the fact of election … The events which followed were the consequences of this historical fact; and the final goal of this historical sequence was the full realisation of the idea of election. Other ancient peoples had nothing corresponding to this view of history.
As Proverbs puts it, ‘The Lord has made everything for its (or his) purpose, even the wicked for the day of trouble’ (Prov. 16:4). Whether yôm rāʻāh (‘day of trouble’ or ‘day of evil’) refers to what the wicked suffer as retribution, or to the evil they perform (cf. Isa. 54:16), the ‘general meaning is that there are ultimately no loose ends in God’s world.’ ‘He determined for which purpose everything that exists was made. There is nothing aimless in the world.…’1
It is difficult to conceive how Yahweh could thus control even the details of history unless he controls the minds and emotions of men. And in fact, the Old Testament writers do not hesitate to describe events in precisely those terms. Yahweh controls whole peoples by sending terror among them (e.g. Gen. 35:5; Exod. 23:27; Deut. 2:25; 1 Sam. 11:6f.). Alternatively, he gives his people favour in the eyes of the Egyptians (Exod. 12:36; cf. Dan. 1:9). Again, he destroys an invading army by setting the soldiers’ weapons against each other (Judg. 7:22). If a few men attach themselves to Saul, it is because God has touched their hearts (1 Sam. 10:26). Human thoughts and decisions are often attributed directly to God’s determining (e.g. 2 Sam. 24:1; Isa. 19:13f.; 37:7; Prov. 21:1; Ezra 1:1; 7:6, 27f.; Neh. 2:11f.). In other words, we may consider:
2. God as the ultimate personal cause
The people of the Old Testament constantly discern the hand of God behind the merely phenomenological perception of events. ‘The Bible does not exercise itself to deny chains of causation, but equally it is not accustomed to clog up its reasoning by giving them undue prominence. It leaps back directly to the divine Agent from whom come all things and by whose will they happen.’1 Human procreation, for instance, is the Lord’s doing (e.g. Gen. 4:1, 25; 18:13f.; 25:21; 30:1f.; Deut. 10:22; Ruth 4:13). When Joseph’s brothers are stunned by the discovery of the returned money in their sacks, they understand this to be God’s doing (Gen. 42:28). It was Yahweh who took off the wheels of the Egyptian chariots (Exod. 14:25); and to him is attributed the ultimate cause of Shimei’s curse (2 Sam. 16:10f.) and Naomi’s sorrow (Ruth 1:20). Even the book of Esther, for all its failure to mention God explicitly, is of the same stamp. Whatever other purposes were in the writer’s mind (such as the presentation of the historical background to the institution of a feast not prescribed in Torah), ‘the literary skill of the author leaves the reader in little doubt that he is observing the operation of divine providence as the narrative proceeds, and that the indestructible nature of the Covenant People will ultimately be made evident’.1
It is difficult to find an adequate word or phrase to express this ‘ultimacy’ in God. The crucial point is that his activity is so sovereign and detailed that nothing can take place in the world of men without at least his permission; and conversely, if he sets himself against some course, then that course cannot develop. Unless Yahweh builds the house and keeps the city, the house will not be built and the watchmen may just as well go to sleep (Ps. 127:1). If Yahweh fights with them, whole armies need not fear (Deut. 3:22); but if Yahweh refuses to go with them they lose (Josh. 7:11f.).
A great deal of biblical phraseology presupposes this ultimacy in Yahweh. Yahweh insists, ‘I gave you a land on which you had not laboured’ (Josh. 24:13); and to David, he says, ‘I took you from the pasture … that you should be over my people’ (2 Sam. 7:8). When wars cease, it is Yahweh who has given his people rest (2 Sam. 7:1; cf. Ps. 147:12ff.); and if Ezra and his party arrive in Jerusalem with speed and safety, it is because the good hand of Yahweh is upon them (Ezra 7:9; cf. Neh. 2:8; Ps. 121:2). Yahweh gives the power to get wealth (Deut. 8:18); indeed, the varieties of agricultural possibilities and the farmer’s knowledge of them are alike from him (Isa. 28:23ff.). Especially in judgment is the ultimacy of Yahweh made plain (Isa. 10:21–3; Jer. 16:16; 20:5; 21:3–7; Ezek. 7:9; 11:7ff.; Mic. 2:3; Nahum 2:13; Zeph. 1:2ff.; etc.). But the ultimacy of Yahweh is nowhere more clearly seen than in the nature psalms (19, 33, 89, 104, 148). In one sense, therefore, miracles do not attest divine intervention into the sphere of normally-operating laws. A miracle means only that God at a given moment wills something to occur in a manner differing from that by which he normally wills it to occur. Old Testament believers do not so much see miracles in terms of ‘breakthrough’ as in terms of a new and surprising mode of divine activity (e.g. Exod. 34:10; Num. 16:30; Isa. 48:6ff.).
So thorough is the ascription of reality to God, that Moses in Deuteronomy 29:4 does not hesitate to describe Israel’s slowness in terms of what Yahweh has not given them. The writer does not mean to suggest that Yahweh’s gifts are niggardly, much less to ascribe sin to him; yet the Old Testament writers do not shy away from making Yahweh himself in some mysterious way (the mysteriousness of which safeguards him from being himself charged with evil) the ‘ultimate’ cause of many evils.
Examples are so numerous that only a few instances may be cited. Micaiah’s description of the heavenly courts and the selection of a lying spirit whose success is guaranteed (1 Kgs. 22:19–22; 2 Chr. 18:18–22), the inciting of David to evil purpose (2 Sam. 24:1), the selling of Joseph into slavery (Gen. 50:20), the sending forth of evil spirits to their appointed tasks (e.g. Judg. 9:23ff.; 1 Sam. 16:14; 18:10), the prologue of Job, not to mention the specific remarks of the prophets (e.g. ‘Does evil (rā‘āh) befall a city, unless the Lord has done it?’ Amos 3:6; cf. Isa. 14:24–7; 45:7), all clamour for attention. Although most of these cases are related to the judgment of God (cf. also Jer. 6:21; Ezek. 3:20), this cannot be said of the Joseph narrative. There are in any case too many instances in which it is inadequate to think of divine sovereignty as an admirable capacity for snatching an eleventh hour victory out of the jaws of defeat. ‘A necessary thought is not only that God redeems a situation but that the situation is itself precipitated by his d(etermination). Not only the remedy, but the situation to be remedied, is run back to the d. of his will.’1 This sort of world-view, where it occurs, does not suggest henotheism, but a very pure and consistent form of monotheism.
At the same time, of course, God is also said to control the minds of his people for good. Sometimes he is petitioned to do so. Such expressions are particularly common in the prophets who look forward to the new covenant (cf. Jer. 31:31–4; 32:40; Ezek. 11:19f.; 36:22ff.; Zeph. 3:9–13; etc.), but are certainly not restricted to such a framework (e.g. 1 Chr. 29:17–19).
Mention of the new covenant invites comment on Old Testament eschatology. We have already noted that history is often seen teleologically in the Old Testament. Inherent in this perspective, both among pre- and post-exilic prophets, is an expectation of Yahweh’s intervention in so climactic a fashion that a new order will be introduced (e.g. Jer. 31; Hos. 2; and more difficult passages like Isa. 2; 7:19ff.; 11). This hope does not mean that God is not acting redemptively in the present, but that the greatest display of his redemptive activity (including judgment) must await the future. Beyond this point, the relationship between the exercise of divine sovereignty now and then is not probed; and the silence of the Old Testament on these points gives rise to considerable speculation later, as we shall see.
Yahweh is holy, sovereign, full of special regard for his elect, and personally ruling in the affairs of men. This view of God makes the perplexity of his people understandable when, from the human perspective, it appears that Yahweh has dealt harshly (Ruth 1:20f.), unfairly (Job 3ff.), or without due consideration of the wickedness of other men (Habbakuk; Ps. 73). It prompts a cry like that in Isaiah 63:17: ‘O Lord, why dost thou make us err from thy ways, and harden our heart, so that we fear thee not? Return for the sake of thy servants, for the tribes of thy heritage.’ (Cf. also Isa. 64:7f.).
3. God and election
Some attention must be devoted to the peculiar manifestation of divine providence witnessed in election. The Old Testament Israelite faith was established on the belief that Israel was Yahweh’s chosen people, based on two complementary acts: the choosing of Abraham (Gen. 12:1ff.; 17:1ff.; 18:17–19), and the exodus together with the gift of the promised land as their national home (Exod. 3:6–10; Deut. 6:21–3; Ezek. 20:5; Ps. 105; cf. Isa. 43:1).1 As Yahweh chose the people, he likewise chose the land as a place of special concern to him (Deut. 11:12), his own land (Lev. 25:23); and in particular he chose Mt. Zion, Jerusalem, as his peculiar dwelling-place (Zech. 2:11f.; 3:2; Ps. 78:68ff.).
Though Abraham is chosen, not all of his offspring enjoy the same privilege: Isaac is chosen, not Ishmael (Gen. 17:18–21); and Jacob is preferred, before his birth, to Esau (Gen. 25:23; 28:14; Mal. 1:2; Isa. 41:8ff.; Ps. 135:3f.). Even within Israel, it is God who chooses the outstanding leaders: e.g. Moses (Exod. 3; Num. 16:5, 7, 28); Aaron as priest (Num. 16:40; 17:8ff.); the Levites (Deut. 18:5; 2 Chr. 21:11ff.); the skilled workers Bezalel and Oholiab (Exod. 31:2, 6; 35:31–4); Joshua (Num. 27:16–21); the men who are to apportion the land (Num. 34:16ff.); David (1 Sam. 13:13f.; 2 Sam. 6:21; Ps. 78:68, 70; 89:19f.; 25; 1 Chr. 28:4–10); the prophets—e.g. Jeremiah, ‘known’1 by God before conception (Jer. 1:5).
The election of Israel means not only that Israel must be different, peculiarly holy, reserved for Yahweh, as compared with all other peoples (Exod. 11:7; 19:4–6; Lev. 20:23–6; Deut. 10:14f.; 14:2; Isa. 43:21; Ps. 33:12; 135:4; etc.), but more: Yahweh uses other nations to bring about his good purposes for Israel, sets their boundaries by the number of his own people, sacrificing other men for her, and punishing them the more severely because their cruelty has been directed toward her (e.g. Deut. 32:8f.; Isa. 43:4; Jer. 51:5–10; Zech. 1:14–17). Even when Yahweh takes his servant Cyrus by the hand (as opposed to whistling him up, as he did with the Assyrians, Isa. 5:26), his purposes in so doing centre on his people Israel (Isa. 45:1–5).
There is thus a centrality about Israel that is in one sense exclusivistic. This is relieved by a universalistic note (e.g. Isa. 19:23; 66:23; Ps. 86:9; 96:10), directly related to election itself: all the nations will be blessed because of God’s choice of Abraham.1 ‘The election of Abraham … was meant as a particularistic means towards a universalistic end.’1
The election of Israel does not lapse with the apostasy of the nation, nor with the resulting exile, for the concept of the ‘remnant’ people of God is clearly well-established. Especially noteworthy are the passages in which the concept is a fixed theological term in prophetic eschatology (e.g. Mic. 4:7 uses še’ērît (‘remnant’) absolutely; cf. 2:12; 5:7; Isa. 8:16–18).
It is incorrect to deduce from the covenant-breaking of the people, that election itself is contingent upon the people. Since Mendenhall wrote his crucial transitional essys on the subject of covenant, some twenty years ago, most Old Testament scholars have understood that the covenant at Sinai, patterned after contemporary suzerainty treaties, pictures Yahweh imposing this covenant upon his willing but responsible vassals.1 Breach of covenant, envisaged as possible on the side of the vassal only, necessarily brings down the wrath of the sovereign. Similarly the prophets insist that election and covenant do not necessarily entail protection; rather, where there is rebellion, they necessarily entail punishment. Because this covenant was established with Yahweh’s elected people, election and covenant overlap: but they are not to be strictly identified, either in nature or extent, for the remnant is seen as the real continuance of Israel (Isa. 41:8ff.; 43:4ff.; Jer. 51:5; etc.), that which constitutes the genuine elect of God (Isa. 65:8–10; Amos 9:8–15). The ‘elect’ (the returning remnant) thus become a smaller group than all of the ‘covenant people’ taken together; and it is only the former who enjoy the new covenant (Jer. 31:33; 32:37–40; 50:5; cf. Isa. 55:3). Only this smaller group of faithful, righteous people are the elected ones (Isa. 1:21–6; 4:6; 10:20ff.).1
This remnant group is grounded not in its own piety but in God’s action. It is Yahweh who forges a new covenant; and it is also he who will give to the heirs of that covenant a heart to fear him (Jer. 32:40). He it is who will give men fleshy hearts, pour our his Spirit, gathering his own to himself (Jer. 31:31–4; Ezek. 11:16–21; 36:22–32; etc.). He may sift Israel and remove the sinners of his people; but he will restore the remnant (Amos 9:8–15). The constant emphasis is on what Yahweh will do. The restoration is nothing less than God-given life to dead bones (Ezek. 37). The covenant is indeed broken; but Yahweh is acting not so much for the sake either of the people or the remnant, as for the sake of his own name: it is because he does not change that the sons of Jacob are not consumed (Mal. 3:6; cf. Ezek. 20:9f., 14; 36:22–32). This suggests that God’s elective purposes are sure because divine.
There is thus a shift in the significance of election, an individualising which only in its summation answers to the fulfilment of God’s promises for Israel. ‘The elective principle, abolished as to nationality, continues in force as to individuals.’2
Thus, the tension found, for example, in the pre-exilic prophets, between Yahweh’s love and Yahweh’s wrath for his people, finds its genesis in the matrix of concepts surrounding election and covenant.2 The reader never fails to perceive that Israel alone was responsible for her apostasy and unfaithfulness; but never does he receive the impression that God is frustrated and his purposes thwarted, even when God manifests his wrath and pleads for repentance. Two distinctions have thus been introduced: between the present and the future people of God (the motif of covenantal renewal), and between the false and the true people of God (the motif of the remnant). Yet despite these distinctions, God’s elective purposes are preserved intact. Indeed, one might almost conclude that God’s elective purposes contribute not a little to the formulation of these distinctions.
When Old Testament writers trace out any particular reason for the divine election, they ultimately wind up retreating to the free, unconditioned, matchless love of God. W. Eichrodt rightly remarks, concerning election in the Old Testament: ‘For there can be no escaping the fact that in the Old Testament divine love is absolutely free and unconditioned in its choices; it is directed to one man out of thousands and lays hold on him with jealous exclusiveness despite all his deficiencies.’2 Abraham is the archetypal example. So strong is the election motif that when Abraham sins against Abimelech, it is nevertheless Abimelech who must ask for prayer from the chosen Abraham (Gen. 20). Deuteronomy lays special emphasis on the fact that Yahweh did not choose Israel as a people because she was intrinsically superior to other peoples (Deut. 7:6–11), nor because she was righteous (Deut. 9:4–6), but rather in defiance of her rebellion, and out of nothing other than his own free, sovereign, electing love (Deut. 4:32–40; 7:6–11; 10:14f.; 23:5; cf. Ezek. 16:6).2 Precisely the same phenomenon is evident when we consider the remnant. The remnant has its origin ‘not in the quality of those saved, but in the saving action of God’ (Gen. 7:23b; 45:7; 1 Kgs. 19:18; Amos 5:15).2 This is most clearly seen in passages in which there is reference to the sins of the remnant (cf. Isa. 4:4; Jer. 50:20; Ezek. 9:8; 11:13; Mic. 7:18; Zeph. 3:12f.; Zech. 13:8f). The remnant escapes judgment only through God’s grace.
The inverse side of election is reprobation. In the Old Testament this commonly takes the form of some sort of hardening.2 The best known case is that of Pharaoh. Eight times God is said to harden Pharaoh’s heart (Exod. 7:3; 9:12; 10:1f.; 10:20; 10:27; 11:9f.; 14:14f., 17) but we also read that his heart was hardened (Exod. 7:13f.; 8:15), and that he hardened his own heart (Exod. 8:32; 9:34). It is, of course, arbitrary to interpret the former in terms of the latter (or vice versa), especially because some of the texts inject a teleological element into the divine hardening: Yahweh hardens Pharaoh in order to destroy him, while displaying his own might (Exod. 7:3; 10:1f.; 14:14f., 17).
But Pharaoh is certainly not the only instance. Yahweh not infrequently hardens the hearts of men in order to set them up for destruction (e.g. Deut. 2:30f.; 1 Sam. 2:24f.; Ezek. 38:10, 16f., 21; Hos. 5:6; 2 Chr. 25:20). Indeed, Yahweh gives the command to make the hearts of the people insensitive, their ears dull and their eyes dim (Isa. 6:9f.). But the Old Testament writers in such cases seem to presuppose that this is nothing other than due judgment; while elsewhere self-hardening is pictured as reprehensible action for which the person is morally accountable (Zech. 7:11; Prov. 28:14). Impersonal determinism might well harden arbitrarily; but behind the hardening of the Old Testament is the God who cries, ‘Harden not your hearts’ (Ps. 95:8).
The significance of election is sometimes obscured by false deductions drawn from the fact that God has servants outside the covenant people (e.g. Cyrus, Ezra 1:1; Isa. 44:24–8; Nebuchadnezzar, Jer. 25:7–9, 13f.; 27:4–8; Nebuchadnezzar and his army paid by being given Egypt, Ezek. 29:19–20; etc.). Rowley calls this phenomenon ‘election without covenant’.2 But the phrase is improper, not only because, as we have seen, such outside servants function solely for the development of the divine purposes for the Israelites, but also because the vocabulary of election is invariably reserved for the covenant people and for ‘covenant functionaries drawn from Israel’s own ranks.’2 What is highlighted by the existence of such non-Israelite servants is the extent of divine sovereignty. It is a particularisation of passages which affirm Yahweh’s sovereignty over the nations.
4. God unacknowledged
One of the most peculiar features connected with divine sovereignty in the Old Testament is the manner in which individuals and peoples are brought by Yahweh to perform some deed, and then held accountable for failing to acknowledge God’s hand in that deed. The message to Pharaoh is that, because Yahweh made him great but Pharaoh thought he had done it himself, Yahweh will bring him low (Ezek. 31:7–10; cf. Ezek. 29). Nebuchadnezzar learned that the failure to acknowledge the sovereignty of God, and the correlative pride, are punishable offences before Yahweh (Dan. 4), while Belshazzar was destroyed for failing to learn the same lesson (Dan. 5:21–3). If Yahweh is sovereign, human self-sufficiency fails to acknowledge God as it ought. Therefore men must learn that Yahweh lives only with the contrite in heart (Isa. 66:1f.).
The reprehensibility of ‘God unacknowledged’ is thrown into relief when the praises of Israel are remembered. Nowhere is the ‘ultimacy’ of God’s action (in election as in other things) more consistently displayed than in Israel’s praises. To fail to acknowledge Yahweh’s ultimacy—to fail to praise—is not real independence from divine dominion, but overt rebellion, a misguided declaration of self-dependence, for which men are responsible. Thus the absoluteness of divine sovereignty and the reality of human responsibility meet in the human obligation to acknowledge divine sovereignty with grateful humility.
5. Concluding remarks
The idea that God really is the sovereign disposer of all is consistently woven into the fabric of the Old Testament, even if there is relatively infrequent explicit reflection on the sovereignty-responsibility tension. Taken as a whole, the all-embracing activity of the sovereign God in the Old Testament must be distinguished from deism, which cuts the world off from him; from cosmic dualism, which divides the control of the world between God and other(s); from determinism, which posits such a direct and rigid control, or such an impersonal one, that human responsibility is destroyed; from indeterminism and chance, which deny either the existence or the rationality of a sovereign God; and from pantheism, which virtually identifies God with the world.2
Yet the sovereignty of God in the Old Testament is not permitted to devour human responsibility. Some limitations, or at least qualifications, are imposed by alternative descriptions of God within the same literature. Perhaps the most telling of these are the passages which speak of God ‘repenting’. Of the many, perhaps Genesis 6:6; 1 Samuel 15:10, 35 (but see 15:29!); Amos 7:3, 6 stand out. It has been shown that such language, applied so regularly to Deity, stands without close parallel in the literature of the ancient near east.2 How much of this is anthropomorphic language is difficult to decide (and will be discussed in Part Four). What is clear is that, just as the Old Testament writers can speak of the God of love and the God of wrath, so they can speak of the God of sovereign purpose and power, and the God of ‘repenting’. Perhaps, then, in the Amos passages referred to (Amos 7:3, 6), we are not to think of the prayers of Amos as if they coerced God into changing his mind. Rather, as J. A. Motyer puts it:
The wrath of God is perpetual: the automatic reaction of a holy nature faced with rebellion and unholiness. But equally eternal is His determination to take, save and keep a people for Himself … It is because we cannot unify these two revealed strands of the divine nature that the Lord graciously accommodates the truth to our powers of expression and speaks of Himself as ‘repenting’.3
In any case, whether this sort of attempt at synthesis is acceptable or not, it is important to remember that there is more to the God of the Old Testament than mere sovereignty, however grand the contemplation of his sovereignty may be.
Moreover, when the Old Testament writers say that God does something, they do not necessarily mean that the human beings involved are merely acted upon like lifeless tools. God gives children; but couples copulate. Yahweh clears the land of the Canaanites (Deut. 7:22–4), but the people must fight. The problems of ‘secondary causality’ formulations are still to be probed; but it is essential to recognise that, however successful such formulations may be, real responsibility is ascribed to Old Testament man for what he is and does. This fact must compel interpreters to grapple with the relationship between God and man in other than rigid machine-like categories.
Although it is true that one can find examples of Yahweh behind just about every kind of action, important distinctions must be observed. God does not stand behind evil action in precisely the same way that he stands behind good action. The Old Testament writers understand God to be holy, just, righteous, good, longsuffering (Gen. 18:25; Lev. 11:44; Isa. 6:3; 61:8; Zeph. 3:5; Ps. 5:4; 11:5; 145:17; Job 34:10–15; etc.). Everything God made was ‘very good’ (Gen. 1:31). A certain distance is preserved between God and his people when they sin. Atoning sacrifice is required; and he may so far disassociate himself from them as to refuse to call them his people (e.g. Exod. 32:7–14). Frequently the divine ultimacy in some human sin is seen to be part of divine retribution, or at least a necessary step toward it (e.g. Jer. 52:3). It can also form part of a long-term divine plan connected with salvation history—whether punishing the Philistines (Judg. 14:20) or selecting a site for the Temple (2 Sam. 24:1ff.). But at other times the Old Testament writers are careful to distinguish between what God does and what men do (e.g. Ezek. 11:16, 21; Ps. 78; Eccles. 7:29). P. Volz, Das Dämonische in Jahwe,3 fails to come to grips with such considerations when he likens Yahweh’s action to the malicious hatred and envy which mar not a few ancient near eastern deities. There is always, in the Old Testament, an implicit or explicit recognition of God’s higher justice (e.g. Jer. 12:1). In short, although we may lack the categories needed for full exposition of the problem, nevertheless we must insist that divine ultimacy stands behind good and evil asymmetrically.
The theme of God’s sovereignty is put to various uses in the Old Testament; i.e. it functions in various ways. These provide further qualifications for the manner in which the theme should be handled by theologians. For example, election is not only to privilege, but to the observance of far-reaching ethical and covenantal obligations (Exod. 11:7; 19:4–6; Lev. 20:23–6; Deut. 10:14f., 8–22; 14:2; Ps. 33:12; 105 culminating in 105:43; etc.), the ignoring of which entails strict judgment (Lev. 26:13ff.; Deut. 28:15ff.; Amos 3:2) not preferential treatment (Jer. 5:12; Mic. 3:11f.). In other words, election functions as motivation for keeping God’s covenant and law (Deut. 14:1f.; Ezek. 20:5–7; cf. Lev. 18:2–5). Especially do the pre-exilic prophets use the election traditions to remind Israelites of the grace in which they stand and of the heinousness of disloyalty. Furthermore, because of election, not only can history be interpreted around the centrality of God’s purposes for his people, but the leaders of the people can successfully intercede for them by referring to the immutability of Yahweh’s elective decisions and the disparagement which would befall his Name should he rescind those purposes. Thus, even after sin and retribution, there can be a pulsating hope among the people, a hope engendered by a particular use of the election traditions (e.g. Isa. 41:8–14; 44:1f.; Hag. 2:23; Ps. 106:4f.).
More broadly, divine sovereignty is never used as a peg either for pride or for resignation, but as a call to humility, obedience, patience and trust (2 Sam. 7:8ff.; Isa. 66:1f.; Hag. 1:14; Ps. 37; Prov. 16:4; cf. Job 38ff.; etc.).3 This is seen even in that most predestinarian of models, the potter and the clay. Isaiah 45:9 uses the model to castigate the rebellion of the clay, the people. Jeremiah 18:2ff. uses it, not to reduce the people to puppet status, but to drive home the principle that Yahweh is free to take whatever sovereign steps he chooses to ensure that the pot turns out all right in the end: the lesson to be learned is the urgency of immediate repentance, before Yahweh’s drastic measures get under way. Even in Isaiah 64:8 the model is really used as no more than a plea for mercy from Yahweh on the ground of human inability apart from God’s sovereign power (cf. Jer. 10:23). Many passages which deal with Yahweh’s greatness or goodness or transcendence are quite openly designed to instil awe, reverence, and submission (Exod. 33:18–20; Deut. 10:10–22; Ps. 8:3f.; 62; 105; etc.). Indeed, the greatness and power of God function as sufficient motive for seeking him (Amos 5:6–9), or for repentance and fear before him (Joel 2:11–14; Amos 4:9–12; Eccles. 3:14). And divine omniscience, far from being used in protracted discussions about the natures of time, eternity, foreknowledge, and decree, commonly functions as the guarantor of the certainty and justice of God’s impending judgment (e.g. Isa. 29:15f.; Jer. 16:16–18; Ezek. 11:2, 5; Ps. 139:1ff.; Prov. 5:21; 24:2; 2 Chr. 16:9).
That brings up the final point which emerges from this survey of the Old Testament approaches to the sovereignty-responsibility tension. The Old Testament writers are not interested in struggling with this tension as a metaphysical problem.3 In so far as they do wrestle with it (as in Job, Ecclesiastes, Habakkuk, and many shorter passages), their interest is focused on a practical area, viz. how to reconcile God’s goodness and power and elective purposes with the vicissitudes they actually experience. Their concern, in short, is the practical side of the problem of theodicy. And the ultimate answers they are granted assure them that God is greater than their questions.