That fascinates me in connection with the sequence of things in the Gospels and Acts. Jesus is baptized by John and immediately anointed by the Spirit. But while many others are baptized, both by John and by Jesus’ disciples, no one else gets anointed.

Jesus becomes the sin offering on the cross and completes His role of ascension offering when He ascends to heaven. It is only then, after the completion of the sin and ascension offerings, that He pours out the Spirit and the “sons” are anointed.

In preparing a sermon on Lord’s Day 12 for this Sunday (by way of Revelation 1 – which, by the way, focuses upon God’s people as servants in 1.1 and as a priesthood in 1.7), this got me reflecting on the question of how the high priest relates to this. If a priest is a palace servant, what is a “high” palace servant?

This in turn led me to think about the predominant Servant theme in Isaiah, a rabbit trail that turned out to be helpful, although I’m not entirely sure yet where to go with it.

In Isaiah 22.15ff, Shebna is the steward “over the household” of the king. He would therefore be the “high” palace servant, the equivalent of the high priest.

(The “steward” idea incidentally opens up all sorts of interesting tracks, such as Paul’s use of the stewardship theme and how that has possible priestly undertones.)

But what I’m more directly interested is how the high priest theme delineates the role of Christ. As Messiah, He is King, but the high priestly element of His anointing also makes Him the Chief Servant. Which is an apparent paradox that certainly bears reflection.

The whole Shebna – Eliakim relationship would also be interesting to examine.

In Is 22, Isaiah prophecies that the stewardship will be taken from Shebna and given to Eliakim; assuming chronological order (which I’m not entirely certain about) the encounter with the Rabshakeh occurs later (Is 37), at which time Eliakim is indeed “over the household” (2 Kg 18.18) – but Shebna is serving as scribe. It appears that although the prophecy is that Shebna will be hurled away violently (Is 22.17), in the meantime, he has become servant to his replacement.

Moreover, Eliakim is the son of the high priest, Hilkiah (2 Kg 22.4). Does this mean the heir apparent to the high priest in YHWH’s house also becomes the high priest in the king’s house? Apparently so, assuming Eliakim is Hilkiah’s eldest son.

As far as insight into how the office of royal steward helps us gain insight into the high priesthood, note that in 2 Kings, the steward/head of the royal household is delegated the task of conversing with the Rabshakeh – he serves as an emissary. Which I suppose brings us back to Isaiah again; the commission of the Servant frequently seems to carry “emissarial” responsibilities. Israel as Yahweh’s servant serves as “my witnesses” (Is 43.10). Yahweh in turn “confirms the word of His servant and fulfills the counsel of His messengers” (44.26).

Indeed, the role of high priest/palace servant/steward/emissary and the role of king seem to merge together into virtually indistinguishability in the case of the Servant. He is the One who “will bring forth justice to the nations” (Is 42.1). The Servant is the instrument of the regathering of Israel (49.5), but more, is “a light for the nations, that My salvation may reach to the end of the earth” (49.6), and ultimately kings and princes themselves shall arise and prostrate themselves before this “servant of rulers” (49.7); Yahweh’s Servant “shall be high and lifted up, and shall be exalted” (52.13).

And of course, perhaps more familiar to us, the Servant will make many to be accounted righteous, and will bear their iniquities (53.11).

Additional notes:

Not specific to the “high” servant, but I think there is an implication of adoption for Yahweh’s servants in 65.15.

The steward, the scribe and the senior priests (37.2) are described as “the servants of King Hezekiah” in Isaiah 37.5. Not sure if that demonstrates equivalence, as it is frequent to describe a king’s subjects as his servants, but interesting.

But as well as what is quite explicit, there are also other undertones and overtones from the David story.

For overtones, we can simply note that just as God passed over the “obvious” choices among Jesse’s sons in favour of the shepherd boy, so too God passes over the “obvious” choices regarding whom will receive the proclamation of the birth of the Messiah, and sends His army to make the royal announcement to… a bunch of shepherds.

Undertones: In Matthew 2, we find Herod making the mothers of Bethlehem childless; in the few verses immediately preceding the record of David’s anointing, we find Samuel hacking Agag of Amalek to pieces with the words, “As your sword has made women childless, so shall your mother be childless among women” (1 Sam 15.33). The connection gives us a pretty good idea what is going to happen to Herod very shortly, and so we are not surprised to learn of his death not far down the road.

But I’ve largely remained indifferent to whether there remains a future land promise (built e.g. on Gen 12 and a host of related passages), and I’m more than wary of Zionism, which I take to be a very misguided attempt to manufacture a fulfillment of God’s promises without understanding either the promises or the corollary conditions.

I still don’t claim to have a settled position on the land issue. But I was forced to lean toward it when I was struck recently by how much sense it would make. After all:

1. We know that a whole host of Israelites have savingly believed God over the years, both before and after the advent of Christ.
2. We believe in the resurrection of the body, not an eternal state of disembodied “spirituality.”
3. Correspondingly, we believe in the renovation of the earth, just as we believe in the renovation of the body.
4. Surely a renovated earth would have geography, and since the renovation is a renovation of this earth, it seems at least plausible – nay, overwhelmingly likely – that the new earth will have the land of Canaan.
5. Since everyone has to live somewhere – why wouldn’t believing Israelites live in Palestine? Why should that be thought the least bit “strange”?

It’s beyond amazing what sort of gall both Miller and her editor displayed in this.

Vote with your pocketbook, is all I say. The media is becoming rapidly more contemptible and corrupt (and it wasn’t starting from a very high point to begin with).

Surely this is intended as a reversal of the wall of Jericho going down in response to a great music procession.

This correspondence is drawn closer by the fact that the procession in Nehemiah comes at the dedication of the wall. To my knowledge, no city or its walls had been dedicated (consecrated) before. That is a form of setting apart (sanctifying to Yahweh’s use).

Or rather, one city had been so set apart previously.

Jericho.

The other cities of Canaan were given to Israel to plunder for themselves, but Jericho was the “firstborn,” as it were, set apart for God. The city itself became a sort of ascension offering (otherwise known as a burnt offering); it was burned along with everything in it (Josh 6.24), with the exception of the silver, gold and vessels of metal, which were put into Yahweh’s treasury. Jericho was devoted (a city of cherem, sometimes translated along the lines of “accursed,” but the fundamental meaning is devotion) to Yahweh, which was why Achan’s theft of its treasures was dealt with so severely. (And also, incidentally, why his punishment took the specific form it did in Josh 7.25. Just as Jericho was “stoned” with its own walls and burned with fire, so Achan and his family, who had apparently been in collusion with him, were stoned with stones and burned with fire. By laying hold of the devoted things, the things of cherem, Achan also became cherem.)

Leithart points out that in Nehemiah 12, the whole city of Jerusalem has become “the house of God” (see 12.40). This is confirmed by the anomalous dedication (anomalous in the sense that this was normally something done to the temple or its vessels, not to a city or its walls), as well as by the fact that the returnees from Babylon are chosen by lot to be tithed to God to live in Jerusalem (Neh 11.1-2).

I believe there is a strong correspondence between that “tithing” event and the choice of the Levites to serve as the firstborn in Numbers 3.40-45. (Note again that the “firstborn” in Numbers 3 are set over against the destroyed firstborn of Egypt; a further suggestion that we are on the right track in seeing the chosen in Nehemiah as being set over against the destroyed “devoted” population of Jericho.)

I’m sure that it would be fruitful to reflect further upon this correspondence between Jericho’s destruction and Jerusalem’s rebuilding….

As one who grew up within Pentecostal revivalism, I know these matters from the inside out: My father was as anti-institutional as nearly anyone of his generation of Pentecostals. He was usually suspicious of local churches, and downright hostile to denominations.

But the problem runs even deeper than anti-institutionalism; the theology of revivalism (insofar as it has unique theology) is fundamentally problematic. Here is what I wrote in response to the forum post.

Well… I think what a lot of people suppose “revival” is just is intrinsically antithetical to anything that can carry forward. But the problem is with their notion of revival, not with institutions that can have inter-generational impact.

IMO, the overwhelming majority of revival theology is based upon serious misappropriation of biblical texts. As a key example: the events of Pentecost were a once-for-all foundational event that established something new – there has never been another Pentecost, nor can there be, any more than there can be a second Incarnation or crucifixion or resurrection of Jesus. (Please don’t misunderstand: this is not in the slightest a denigration of the Holy Spirit’s work in the Church, any more than it’s a denigration of Christ that He experienced the cross and resurrection only once. Just the opposite: the Holy Spirit has been poured out once for all and everything of Jesus now stands in His light as He continues to work. Saying there is only one Pentecost is a magnification of the Spirit, just as saying Jesus died once for all is a magnification of Jesus.)

I don’t believe that what usually get called “revivals” are found in Scripture. There are reformations (e.g. under Hezekiah, Josiah etc). There are new phases in redemptive history (Abraham, Moses, David, and of course the whole life, ministry, death, resurrection, ascension of Christ, with Pentecost as part of that complex of events). But revivalism entails other sorts of notions, such as: Every person needs a dramatic, datable conversion experience, and that God wants to start from scratch every generation.

A few questions should show the error of that.  Did David have a dramatic, datable conversion experience? No, the Psalms say explicitly that he belonged to God from his infancy and he was taught to trust while still nursing.

When, for that matter, were the disciples converted? We don’t see anything dramatic when they first begin to follow Jesus. He tells them to drop everything to follow Him, and they do. The act itself is dramatic, but we don’t see any emotional outbursts etc. Why?

Well, in part because most were probably already believers. And in part because we’ve misdefined conversion, as well….

God says that He will be God to Abraham and to his descendants, and Peter echoes that language in his Pentecost sermon. Paul likewise says that children are to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord. All of those sorts of features presuppose a kind of continuity that revivalism finds anathema.

I’m not an outsider to these issues, BTW. I grew up in a very revivalistic setting. In fact, my Dad was largely a revivalist preacher. I’d venture to say that the only time I’ve ever seen revivals do long term good, ironically, is when those affected by them went on into more stable environments that wouldn’t necessarily have been recommended by the revivalists themselves. I look at the years and tears my father invested into serving God and God’s people – and that service was well-intentioned and real, I don’t call it into question – and I can look at the outcome of those years, and the long-term results were negligible. And frankly, my Dad was far more Bible-centered than most revivalists are.

We don’t need to look for another “revival.” Revival-seeking is in some ways a form of renunciation of responsibility. God gave us His revealed will in His Word, and we need to learn that and trust the Holy Spirit to guide us. But that takes discipline, and we want to wait on “inspiration” instead.

Of course, the connection is immediate: Achan’s transgression was to take “the devoted things” from Jericho for himself. But there is more to it than that.

In Joshua 6, we see that the stone walls of the city fell down upon its inhabitants, and all the city was devoted to destruction, “both men and women, young and old, oxen, sheep, and donkeys” (6.21).

In Joshua 7, we learn that “Joshua and all Israel with him took Achan the son of Zerah, and the silver and the cloak and the bar of gold, and his sons and daughters and his oxen and donkeys and sheep and his tent and all that he had. And they brought them up to the Valley of Achor” (7.24). Startling correspondences, but that is not all. What was done with all of these people and possessions? They were stoned and burned with fire.

That’s exactly what had happened to the inhabitants of Jericho. The collapse of the walls, I think, was a form of stoning. And then the city was burned with fire, along with everything in it (6.24). So in both cases, the people and their possessions are stoned and burned with fire.

The only contrast is that in 6.24, the silver, gold, bronze and iron are devoted to Yahweh for His treasury rather than for destruction; in 7.24ff, the silver and gold (along with the cloak) are destroyed along with everything else.

I’m not sure of the full significance of all of this, but I would posit that by taking of Jericho’s devoted things, Achan “became” the new Jericho (contrast this to Rahab, who, although she was a Canaanite, experienced a Passover and became part of Israel); this is why he and his suffer the same fate as the city.

I don’t have a solid answer for why the silver and gold Achan stole were not placed into Yahweh’s treasury along with the other precious plunder from Jericho, although I can speculate that in some way Achan’s action had proven it more trouble than it was worth. I’ll need to think about that some more….

All of that, therefore, is a given and important. However, it must be recognized that 1 Samuel treats the departure of the ark from Israel to Philistia in the first place under an exodus motif, as well.

In a recent Bible study discussion, we noted that at key points in redemptive history (i.e. at the introduction of a new covenant), God sent “multi-office” figures who served not only in kingly/ “judgely” roles, but also in priestly and prophetic ones: Abraham, Moses, Samuel.

But there are further (disturbing) parallels between Moses and Samuel. Like Moses, Samuel was given up by his mother to live in the house of the leader of the land. Yes, that’s exactly what I am implying: Eli serves in parallel to Pharaoh. Now, of course, Eli in some respects fears God – he at least rebukes his sons. However, when push comes to shove, like Pharaoh, Eli does not fear God. That in fact is what the man of God suggests to Eli: Eli does not honour God, but despises Him (1 Sam 2.30). It seems clear that though Eli rebuked his sons, he was willing to become heavy (“glorious”) from the food they had stolen from Yahweh’s offerings. Thus, just as Pharaoh refused to allow Israel to worship Yahweh in the way He had commanded, Eli, through his sons, disallow Israel from worshipping rightly, as well, by stealing the Lord’s portion (1 Sam 2.13-17).

What all this means is that the departure of the ark from the possession of Eli’s house is an act of exodus. Yahweh’s presence – the place of the cloud of glory which accompanied Israel at the Egyptian exodus – goes up from the presence of this new Pharaoh, and as it turns out, the Philistines treat Yahweh’s ark with more reverence and good sense than Eli’s own house had done. (They at least sent the ark back with a guilt offering.)

In our previous post, we examined the sundry texts from which Paul quotes in his great catena of quotations in Rom 3.10-18. But the thought unit is not yet complete; Paul makes his assessment of the implications in 3.19-20. This followup makes Paul’s intent clearer, although it is frequently misread (verse 19, in particular; I think this is likely also the case with verse 20, but my understanding of the verse is still being formed).

Gentiles Under the Law?

Verse 19 offers this perspective on the catena: “Now we know that whatever the law says, to those in the law it speaks, so that every mouth may be closed and all the world may become guilty/liable to God.”

Some misread this statement to mean that Paul thinks that “all the world” is “in the law.” This, however, is not possible. In 2.12, Paul contrasts those who sin “in the law” (identical terminology to 3.19) to those who sin anomos (“apart from the law;” on the analogy of “in the law,” the understanding is “outside the law”). The clear assumption on Paul’s part is that Torah is for Israel, not for Gentiles, who are outside the law’s polity.

When approaching 3.19, it must be recalled that Paul’s imaginary interlocutor is a Jew. The assumption common to Paul and his ostensible argument partner is that Gentiles on the whole are subject to judgment; he does not need the catena in order to demonstrate that. Rather, Paul’s concern has been to show (mostly from the Psalms) that there is no “king’s X” exempting Israel from judgment.

Liability to Judgment

This is crucial to Paul’s argument, because as we have seen, he has already demonstrated in 3.1-8 that Israel as a whole is guilty; but it has been his aim to show that this guilt is not simply to be overlooked. This is why the passages from which he quotes are so consonant with the sort of guilt he has established in the preceding passage: his kinsmen have sinned against God Himself by disbelieving His promises, rejecting His Messiah, and indeed, becoming guilty of His blood. And as it happens, the Psalms from which Paul quotes are all Davidic, and the wicked are defined over against him, just as the righteous are defined in relation to him. Thus we can infer a sort of “how much more” argument: If the wicked were those who opposed David – himself a sinner – and they were held responsible and judged on that account, how much more is it the case with those who oppose the Son of David, the promised Messiah Himself: they are liable for their guilt. (Actually, the “how much more” goes further, as we’ll see in considering v 20a.)

“Liable” is thus likely the sense of hupodikos here, although not a lot rests on that, as Paul’s point involves the guilt involved in the liability. While this is the only appearance in the Bible, BADG identifies liability or answerability as the normal meaning of the term, based on comparisons to Philo and Josephus – despite the fact that English translations of Romans 3.19 often render it “guilty.”

Paul’s Use of Psalm 143: Covenant Lawsuit

This brings us to verse 20, which at first glance appears to put things back into the framework of general lawbreaking: “Because from works of Torah no flesh shall be justified before Him, for through Torah is the knowledge of Sin.”

The first part of verse 20 is a modified allusion to Psalm 143.2 (142.2 LXX). Paul’s text reads, “from works of Torah no flesh shall be justified before Him.” In the LXX, the verse as a whole reads, “And do not enter into judgment with Your servant, because no one living shall be justified before You.” (The LXX sticks very close to the Hebrew in this case.) The latter part of this allusion is nearly identical, except that Paul has substituted “no one living” with “no flesh.” This fits, not only with Paul’s widespread use of flesh in Romans, but also with the connection he makes between flesh and death. Without contradicting the original intention of Psalm 143, Paul wants to say that in a real sense those who are in the flesh are not really living.

As for the rest of Paul’s statement, he has substituted the idea of Yahweh entering into judgment with humans with his own theme phrase “works of Torah.” (One question this raises is whether he is simply bringing Ps 143.2b into the context of his own discussion of works of Torah, or whether in fact works of Torah is in some sense intended to be epexegetical of Yahweh’s entering into judgment with men. We’ll leave this to one side, although it’s fascinating and bears further investigation.) Men will not be justified from works of Torah before Yahweh.

More on that in a moment, but first let’s backtrack.

Psalm 143, as it turns out, is yet another text which mentions (wait for it) the divine righteousness: “Hear my prayer, Yahweh, hearken to my supplications in Your steadfastness; answer in Your righteousness” (Ps 143.1; note also v 11: “For the sake of Your name, Yahweh, preserve me; in Your righteousness bring my soul out of distress”). By my count, that’s now six of eight Old Testament texts referenced in this chapter so far which deal with the righteousness of God in the context. Still think that Paul’s usage of the phrase is independent?

Amazingly enough, given how God’s righteousness is frequently spoken of, the pleas of Psalm 143.1 and 2 contrast two scenarios: one in which Yahweh answers according to His righteousness, and one in which He enters into judgment with His servant. And yet, in association with this latter case, David says that before Yahweh no one living is righteous.

What we find, then, is that the tendency to associate divine judgment with a perfect standard is not utterly wrong. David himself confesses that if Yahweh enters into judgment with anyone, that person is ruined, for before Yahweh, no one living is righteous.

But how can we fit these two sides of the story together?

Let’s start by recognizing what is widely overlooked regarding the nature of judgment in biblical terms. Note what “entering into judgment” entails. It does not simply mean that God is sitting as an impartial judge. To “enter into judgment” with someone means to take opposing sides in a case: prosecutor and accused.

Thus it is not at all inconsistent of David to appeal to Yahweh, “Judge me according to Your righteousness” – or even, “judge me according to my righteousness” (Ps 7.8) when he is seeking aid over against his enemies and his afflictions. Because David knows that Yahweh has covenanted Himself to His people, and He judges in their favour.

But it is an utterly different story if God makes a covenant lawsuit against His own people; then there is no longer a mediary to whom to appeal (cf 1 Sam 2.25). All disputes involve at least one unrighteous party; in any dispute between Yahweh and men, it is certain that no man living can possibly be righteous. (For a biblical instance of a “covenant lawsuit” between Yahweh and His people, see e.g. Micah 6.1-5.)

For whatever reason, then, Paul places “from works of Torah” in place of “entering into judgment.” Whatever that reason is, one thing is clear: the scenario which he is addressing has man in contention – legal dispute – with God Himself. And Paul says that if Yahweh has entered into dispute with men, being an observant Jew isn’t going to cut it.

This again comports well with our reading 3.1-8: Israel has quite literally entered into judgment with Yahweh by prosecuting the Messiah, who in fact is Himself Yahweh. Again, no amount of devotion to works of Torah is going to save them in such a contention.

The second part of 3.20, intended in some way to ground the statement of 3.20a (“for”), sounds somewhat like chapter 7, where Paul says that the law became an occasion of sin for the flesh – like the commandment itself became a temptation (“rules are made to be broken”).

The frequent understanding of the statement in 20b is that the law identifies sins – yet, even given the factors of chapter 7, it’s hard to think that understanding the argument in that fashion does not produce a non sequitur.

But there is a further problem: Paul does not say that through the law is the knowledge of sins (plural), but sin (singular). This is why I have capitalized Sin in my translation above. As we progress through Romans, we find that Sin is not simply an abstraction of individual misdeeds (although it certainly is reflected in such misdeeds); it is a power which rules over all men in Adam (e.g. 5.12), a power broken only by union with Christ who conquered it in His death (6.6ff).

“Knowledge” here probably doesn’t simply refer to an intellectual apprehension of something; Paul seems to be using the term in the more full-orbed biblical sense that entails experiencing something from the inside out. The fullest experience of Sin, the power, is discovered within the context of Torah. This is true, in part, because it specifies commandments and prohibitions, just as the tree was specifically prohibited to Adam. Thus one’s experience under the law involves awareness that is not the case outside of it.

However, there still seems to be more involved than that. Paul writes, not merely that Torah identifies sins, as we’ve mentioned; he says that “the law came in to increase the trespass, but where Sin increased, grace abounded all the more” (5.20). Sin comes to be “accounted” in the context of Torah (5.13), to the effect that Torah brings wrath, while where there is no Torah there is no transgression (4.15).

Verse 3.20b is likely a summary statement of what Paul says later, then. The statements of chapter 7 are certainly related to this, but if anything, this verse is closer to the more foundational thoughts in chapter 5, particularly 5.20: the law entered in order to increase the trespass.

Whatever else we may say regarding 3.20b (and 5.20 etc), one thing should be clear. Being under Torah – indeed, being devoted to Torah’s works – is not itself the deliverance of Israel. Rather, in some way Torah has provoked Israel’s rebellion to the degree that she has disbelieved and entered into judgment against her Messiah and her God – all in the name of the law itself. This reveals the extent of Israel’s trouble. She is under Sin, and under judgment; she has entered into a court dispute with Yahweh Himself, where no flesh will be justified.