Judges isn’t a story about Israelites refusing a king. It is a story about attempts to exalt a man as king and the catastrophic results of those attempts.

From the blog of Mark Horne: Solomon Says.

The book of Judges is not a lesson in how Israel needed a king. It is the opposite.

I’m not saying that Judges rules out the possibility that a righteous king could have helped with some of Israel’s problems. Moses had allowed that the tribes of Israel might choose a king in the future, and gave them God’s rules for a king (Deuteronomy 17:14-20).

But Judges isn’t a story about Israelites refusing a king. It is a story about attempts to exalt a man as king and the catastrophic results of those attempts. From the story of Gideon onward, Judges is a history of rulers who began toying with dynastic ambitions. Then the book ends with two horrific stories. In those stories we meet the statement, “In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Judges 17:6; 19:25 ESV; see also 18:1; 19:1). But those stories are about degenerate Levites and come at the end of a history of God stopping his chosen judges from becoming kings.

By the way, after David and Solomon, I don’t see any evidence that Israel (divided into two kingdoms) was more righteous or civilized than the time of the judges. My sense of it is that there were more bad kings before (and leading to) the exile than there were bad judges before Saul. If I’m right, then the common reading of Judges requires more explanation to even make sense.

My understanding of a king is someone who holds a hereditary office. A king’s heir will be king if he outlives his father. At the time of Judges, Israel was ruled, above the level of local clans, by judges 1. who gained a reputation as faithful teachers and arbitrators, and 2. who assumed executive powers in times of national emergency.

The Framework of the Story of Judges

Looking at Judges as a unified book, it begins with two overviews: the first of the initial conquest and compromises with the Canaanites and the second explaining the cycle of judgment for idolatry (1:1-2:5 / 2:6-3:6). It ends, as I mentioned above, with two stories, one about an idolatrous Levite and then another about a Levite and the extermination of one of Israel’s own tribes (chapters 17 & 18 / 19-21). Interestingly, the first overview contains the tale of a marriage and the last story begins and ends with marriages as well.

Between those brackets, there is a history of Israel’s judges. For my purposes I will skip over Othniel, Ehud, Shamgar, and Deborah & Barak and deal with Gideon.

Gideon the Turning Point

The role of Gideon in permanently altering the history and culture of Israel may be signified by him being the first judge raised up by a personal visitation by the Angel of the Lord (6:11). Gideon is a faithful judge who delivers Israel from the Midianites. In the glow of victory, however, he doesn’t stay completely on the right track.

Then the men of Israel said to Gideon, “Rule over us, you and your son and your grandson also, for you have saved us from the hand of Midian.” Gideon said to them, “I will not rule over you, and my son will not rule over you; the LORD will rule over you.” And Gideon said to them, “Let me make a request of you: every one of you give me the earrings from his spoil.” (For they had golden earrings, because they were Ishmaelites.) And they answered, “We will willingly give them.” And they spread a cloak, and every man threw in it the earrings of his spoil. And the weight of the golden earrings that he requested was 1,700 shekels of gold, besides the crescent ornaments and the pendants and the purple garments worn by the kings of Midian, and besides the collars that were around the necks of their camels. And Gideon made an ephod of it and put it in his city, in Ophrah. And all Israel whored after it there, and it became a snare to Gideon and to his family. So Midian was subdued before the people of Israel, and they raised their heads no more. And the land had rest forty years in the days of Gideon.

Judges 8:22–28 ESV

Gideon, though he fought against false gods, established a shrine for idolatry in Israel. (I am sure it was treated as a way to worship the God of Israel, not the god of the Canaanites, but it was still a violation of God’s law. The only place for authorized worship was the Tabernacle.)

But the story shows another problem. Gideon had correctly refused to start a ruling dynasty: “I will not rule over you, and my son will not rule over you; the LORD will rule over you.” But he was inconsistent. He had 70 sons. How? The text doesn’t make us speculate about marrying a female superhero: “Now Gideon had seventy sons, his own offspring, for he had many wives” (Judges 8:30 ESV). Additionally, he married a concubine who stayed in her hometown, which Gideon ruled from afar. He named his son by her Abimelech, “My father is king.”

Gideon obviously was still holding on to dreams of regal status. And, in doing so, he was violating a rule given by Moses to all future kings: “And he shall not acquire many wives for himself, lest his heart turn away” (Deuteronomy 17:17 ESV). Gideon wasn’t just acting like a king, but like a pagan king. He set a precedent that led to the fall of Solomon.

Abimelech used his royal status to convince his people he would be preferable to rule by Gideon’s other sons. He then massacred all his brothers, with only one escaping. Gideon’s dynastic ambition led to murder and civil war.

Who Wants to Be King?

One surviving half-brother of Abimelech spoke publicly about him in a parable:

The trees once went out to anoint a king over them, and they said to the olive tree, “Reign over us.” But the olive tree said to them, “Shall I leave my abundance, by which gods and men are honored, and go hold sway over the trees?’ And the trees said to the fig tree, ‘You come and reign over us.” But the fig tree said to them, “Shall I leave my sweetness and my good fruit and go hold sway over the trees?” And the trees said to the vine, “You come and reign over us.” But the vine said to them, “Shall I leave my wine that cheers God and men and go hold sway over the trees?” Then all the trees said to the bramble, “You come and reign over us.” And the bramble said to the trees, “If in good faith you are anointing me king over you, then come and take refuge in my shade, but if not, let fire come out of the bramble and devour the cedars of Lebanon.”

Judges 9:8–15 ESV

In the context, this parable was aimed at Abimelech and those who thought they were wise to support him in his coup. It basically says that productive people are too busy producing to rule over other men. Unproductive people want the power and end up destroying the productive. His prediction came true and Abimelech destroyed many.

Is this the kind of story that you put in a book about how Israel needed a king?

The Dynastic Ambition

Despite the ruinous results of Gideon’s inconsistency, other judges followed his example by attempting dynasties. Nothing bad is said about the next judge, Tola, but then:

After him arose Jair the Gileadite, who judged Israel twenty-two years. And he had thirty sons who rode on thirty donkeys, and they had thirty cities, called Havvoth-jair to this day, which are in the land of Gilead. And Jair died and was buried in Kamon.

Judges 10:3–5 ESV

Later, a couple of other judges followed the same practice. Ibzan “had thirty sons, and thirty daughters he gave in marriage outside his clan, and thirty daughters he brought in from outside for his sons. And he judged Israel seven years” (Judges 12:9 ESV). And, after the judge Elon, Abdon “had forty sons and thirty grandsons, who rode on seventy donkeys, and he judged Israel eight years” (Judges 12:14 ESV).

In fact, the pattern of the story from Gideon to Abdon is organized around dynastic ambitions. It forms what is called a “chiasm.”

The Story of Jephthah

Jephthah is the tale of a marginalized outsider who ended up delivering his hometown and ruling over it. It is a wonderful story, rendered incomprehensible to us by the idea that he slaughtered his daughter as a human sacrifice (Judges 11.29-40). I am not going to argue it here, but I don’t think the word translated “burnt offering” (that doesn’t say burnt or offering in the Hebrew) refers to human sacrifice. Yes, if you have a certain kind of sacrifice on the altar, it is referred to by that word. But this is a different context.

Rather than think Jephthah was someone who would casually offer the murder of one of his household, we ought to be amazed that, unlike Gideon and others, he was not trying to be a king. He had one and only one daughter. He had refused to violate the rule made for kings.

But he still wanted to be king and he wanted God’s permission. So He promised God the first person who came out to meet him–which would mean he (or she) would become a servant to the Tabernacle. Obviously, he was hoping the person would be one of his servants. But that wasn’t what God wanted.

His daughter mourned her future without a husband and children, not her alleged impending death. She would become a Tabernacle servant and never be married. Jephthah’s line was at an end.

The Structure of Judges Hinges on Gideon’s Sin

Here is a chiasm I got from James B. Jordan:

For those who want more data, Jim Jordan’s commentary is unbeatable. Also, his chiastic analysis is found here. I relied on it and copied most of it, though I interpret Jephthah’s dynastic aspirations a bit more positively.

“No King in Israel”

As Judges says, God is supposed to be the king. The failure is pinned, to the extent that a single failure is responsible for national sin, on the perverse Levites. Levites were the tribe of pastors and teachers in Israel. When they failed, there ceased to be a king in Israel. The last two stories are meant to explain why Israel was without a king. The Levites were supposed to teach the people that God was their king.

It defies the entire message of the book to interpret Judges as claiming that Gideon of Jephthah or someone else was supposed to become a king.

So What about Your Kingdom?

In my book (Amazon, Kindle), I propose that Proverbs presupposes that we are all kings. Whatever Judges may teach us about society and law, it also has a message for each one of us. The autonomous quest for kingship led to civil war in Israel, and Solomon tells us that one finds real power in acknowledging God as king:

Trust in the LORD with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths.
Be not wise in your own eyes;
fear the LORD, and turn away from evil.
It will be healing to your flesh
and refreshment to your bones.

Proverbs 3:5–8 ESV

By doing what Solomon says, you can become a unified ruler of yourself rather than one who is at war with himself because at war with God.

In his book Why Baptize Babies?, Mark Horne writes:

The apostle Peter makes it clear that God’s Covenant still involves the promise to our children:

For the promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself.” (Acts 2:39) We who now profess Christ are among those who are “far off,” whom the Lord has called to himself. Just like those to whom Peter first preached, the promise is not only for us but for our children as well. (p. 23)

So much that has been written about baptism is nebulous and confused. My friend Mark’s short book, however, is an excellent summary of this doctrine. Having his points honed into silver bullets makes them easier to discern, and easier to deflect!

Another paedobaptist friend, Luke Welch, recently pointed out the very strong connection between Acts 2 and Genesis 17. The promise “to you and your children” is tied to the promise to Abraham, which is wonderful news to those who want to use baptism as a sort of “regenerative circumcision” for both males and females.

Mark and Luke want to turn Acts 2 into the beginning of another “Abrahamic” genealogy, rather than the end of the old one. Acts 2 is not a new beginning in that sense. Genesis 17 and Acts 2 are the “bookends” of the fleshly Messianic genealogy. But the coming of the Spirit of God, and the union of Jew and Gentile in Christ, was putting an end to the social division of circumcision. Baptism has social implications, but its heart is not carnal but ethical. Peter’s words do not mean what Mark and Luke want them to mean. They are reading them through their doctrinal construct, which overrides both the Covenant context and the historical context of the text.

The words in Acts 2 were spoken to the last “generation” of the children of Abraham. Read the passage. The hearers were Jews and proselytes, but all were within the bounds of the circumcision. These words were a Covenantal proclamation by God’s prophets to all members of the circumcision. This means they are a warning of coming Covenant Sanctions, which entail both blessings and curses. In 40 years there would be no more circumcision, at least none recognized by the One True God.

Peter addresses them as “Israel” a number of times, and ends with “Save yourselves from this crooked generation.” If these people believed, their children would be saved, not from eternal judgment but from the horrors coming upon Judaism across the empire. Quoting Thomas Madden’s Empires of Trust, Peter Leithart writes:

Madden examines the Jewish War (66-70 AD) in some detail, using it as an illustration of the difficulty of controlling religiously motivated terrorism, and he interestingly points out that Diaspora Jews not only celebrated the exploits of Palestinian guerillas but also initiated conflicts in their own cities:

“As news of the violence in Jerusalem spread [in 66], the killing was mirrored across the region and then the empire. . . . Diaspora Jews sympathized with their coreligionists, but few would condone this sort of slaughter.  And yet, in some places in the Middle East, Jews celebrated the massacre of Romans.  Several cities with large Jewish populations saw open warfare between them and their Gentile neighbors. . . .

“In places like Alexandria, Caesarea Maritima, Caesarea Philippi, Tyre, and Ascalon, the Jews had the worst of it, with many thousands killed.  In other places like Sebaste, Gaza, Anthedon, Gaba, and the Decapolis it was the Jews who won out, massacring the Gentiles.”  After six thousand Romans were killed in Caesarea Maritima, the citizens of Damascus “poured into the streets killing Jews wherever they could find them.”

This is of interest partly because of the light it sheds on the New Testament. Paul and the other apostles write to Christian communities scattered about the Mediterranean about a coming day of retribution. On a preterist reading of the NT, these are likely references to the Jewish War and AD 70. But why would Christians in Corinth or Rome care? Madden’s information clarifies this: As in the book of Esther, the conflict of “true Jews” and the “Agagites” is not confined to a single region or city but spreads throughout the empire. [1]

To claim that these words to the house of Israel are the beginning of new promises to the Jew Gentile church rather than being an announcement of the coming fulfillment of an old promise (and thus its historical end) is a terrible misuse of the text.

How do we know that his mention of “the children” is Abrahamic in scope?

In two ways:

1) Because if they rejected Peter’s words, they, their children, and all the Jews within the empire would fall under the curse of the Mosaic Law when it fell for the final time. When Jesus said,

“Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children.” (Luke 23:28)

he was not speaking to the Church. And neither was Peter on the Day of Pentecost. He was putting Israel on the altar for the final offering. Just as the Lord called Adam to confess what he had done, so the prophets were again calling Israel to confess what she had done and be forgiven.

This was a call to reject all confidence in the flesh of Abraham and to embrace the Spirit of Abraham. The only flesh of Abraham which mattered was no in heaven, presented as blameless to God. Circumcision was now meaningless. The nation had taken its Messianic genealogy and turned genealogy into an idol. She would suffer the destruction of that idol. All the genealogies were destroyed with the Temple, along with 6000 women and children who sought protection in its cloisters which collapsed during the final battle. God was cutting off the genealogical Covenant. Flesh was coming to an end. He did not replace it with another genealogical Covenant. He transformed the very nature of the Covenant by putting it through the fire (1 Corinthians 3:15).

2) Because 3000 souls were added to the Church that day. The reference is to the 3000 people who had taken the Covenant oath at Sinai and immediately broken it. The key here is not genealogical (tribal/cultural) division but an “ethical” profession based upon faith in God’s word and character. The Day of Pentecost was a reversal of the events at Sinai because these people had heard and believed. Infants cannot take the Covenant oath, even though they are under the shelter of those who can. Baptism is for those who can take the “oath of allegiance” to Jesus, the profession of faith. This is why Paul says:

Therefore I want you to understand that no one speaking in the Spirit of God ever says “Jesus is accursed!” and no one can say “Jesus is Lord” except in the Holy Spirit.

Baptism is for those whose hearts have been circumcised by the Spirit, and repented and believed. It is not genealogical. To make it so is to undo what Christ achieved.

So, does God not care about children? Certainly He does. But God also cares about the entire world, and He delegated authority over it to a man, who messed it up. Children are blessed or cursed at the hands of their parents, who are to be trees of righteousness, food and shelter. Baptism is for those who are righteous trees, that is, qualified by God as His representatives, as Adam should have been. We bring our children to Jesus because He was baptized, qualified, not because they need to be. There is no more social division.

As baptized saints, we represent Him to the world and speak His words. That’s what baptism is about, so to turn it into a new circumcision is to say that only the Church, as a genealogy/tribe, is answerable to God, when in fact, all nations are now called to repent.

____________________________________
[1] See Peter Leithart, Jewish War.

by Mark Horne (reposted with permission)

“What we need to ask ourselves is, why might a righteous and sinless human need to ‘die’ in order to “live”?”

In basic Evangelical Christian teaching, “sanctification” is a process in which a believer, by the working of God’s Spirit, is able more and more to put off sin and live in more complete obedience to God. That way of summarizing the teaching can be misleading since perception is not always the same as reality. After all, one part of the process might involve discovering hidden sin, which means one might, at times in one’s life, be sanctified by (apparently) becoming more sinful, not less. Furthermore (or perhaps the same issue), new stages in life can bring new and more powerful temptations which one might initially fail to resist.

But another problem with “sanctification” as understood as the basic process and calling in the Christian life, is that Evangelical teaching cannot, on this definition, allow that Jesus, from the time he was born to the time he died, went through sanctification.

Here is the issue:

1. The Bible teaches that Jesus was changed in his life.
2. The Bible holds Jesus’ changes as a model, empowerment, and hope for believers to change in their lives.
3. The Bible’s calling to believers to change as Jesus changed certainly seems to partly cover the ground that is commonly defined as “sanctification.”

To see an example of how Jesus did underwent this process see here, and perhaps more under my old wisdom category in general. Aside from Luke 2.40, 52, the author of Hebrews seems to emphasize this point repeatedly:

For it was not to angels that God subjected the world to come, of which we are speaking. It has been testified somewhere,
“What is man, that you are mindful of him,
or the son of man, that you care for him?
You made him for a little while lower than the angels;
you have crowned him with glory and honor,
putting everything in subjection under his feet.”
Now in putting everything in subjection to him, he left nothing outside his control. At present, we do not yet see everything in subjection to him. But we see him who for a little while was made lower than the angels, namely Jesus, crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.
For it was fitting that he, for whom and by whom all things exist, in bringing many sons to glory, should make the founder of their salvation perfect through suffering. For he who sanctifies and those who are sanctified all have one source. That is why he is not ashamed to call them brothers, (Hebrews 2:5-11 ESV)

So also Christ did not exalt himself to be made a high priest, but was appointed by him who said to him,
“You are my Son,
today I have begotten you”; [from Psalm 2]
as he says also in another place,
“You are a priest forever,
after the order of Melchizedek.”
In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence. Although he was a son, he learned obedience through what he suffered. And being made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation to all who obey him, being designated by God a high priest after the order of Melchizedek. (Hebrews 5:5-10 ESV)

So Jesus undergoes a process that, in the letter to the Hebrews, the readers are supposed to undergo as well. And it is a path to the world being put under their feet. It involves both one’s death at the end of life, but it also entails the willingness to “die” all through life. Don’t let the word “priest” make you forget that this is also all about being a king as well. Psalm 2 is about ruling the nation, and Melchizedek was both a priest and king. Following Jesus, in order to rule you have to die.

Die to what?

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.

Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming. In these you too once walked, when you were living in them. But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.

Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. (Colossians 3:1-15 ESV)

This is why we more or less forget how what Christ went through to be raised, or divorce it from our own experiences. Jesus didn’t struggle with sin in exactly the same way we do because he never succumbed to it in thought, word, or deed. Thus, we tend to think that all his life and suffering was entirely a matter of some other arrangement. Perhaps God wanted him to act out a bit of drama before he died and was raised so that he could teach us how to act. Or perhaps it was important that the Sermon on the Mount be written.

But that won’t do justice to Scripture. What we need to ask ourselves is, why might a righteous and sinless human need to “die” in order to “live”? What does he need to learn through suffering that enables him to rule wisely?

Here I’m going to offer to suggestions:

1. Men and women have to die to their own enjoyments because they are called to bring about a better future.

God made us to enjoy he gifts and he gives many of them to us freely. We rarely spend time thinking about the air we breathe because it is just given to us without cost or any effort needed on our part. Adam and Eve were put in a garden with free food. But while enjoying gifts is good, is there not also another good, perhaps even a better good, that God wants us to enjoy?

I think so. As creative partners, God wants us to learn to make things better than they already were.

But think about what this requires. It means you have to take a step beyond the blessing God originally gave you. You have to stop consuming God’s free gifts (as much) and devote time and energy to pursuits you hope will bear better fruit in the future. You have to “die” to your old self and “live” in a new way.

The book of Proverbs is filled with warnings about not being stuck in the first stage. It is one of sins temptations to stop there. Solomon calls such people “sluggards.”

2. Men and women have to die to their own enjoyments because they are called to bring about enjoyments for others.

God made us to enjoy gifts, but he made us to love others and consider their enjoyments. But this is a new way of living before God. Rather than simply receiving things you like, you have to learn to give them to another. You have to find enjoyment in the beloved’s enjoyment rather than only in your own direct enjoyment.

This, again, I submit, is a second stage. It requires a movement from an “old way of life” to a new one. It requires a “death to self” and a “living for” the beloved.

“More Than Conquerors”

As people who struggle with sin in our very being, this is all challenging, but I don’t think the challenges are completely unlike the challenges that Adam faced before he Fell. He needed to die to self in a couple of ways in order to resist the serpent’s temptation. But he chose not to do so. While Satan tempted Eve (who never directly heard God prohibit the tree of the knowledge of good and evil), he remained silent. He ate food that was a delight to the eyes. The result was slavery to sin and the struggle that we believers still face even with the work of the Holy Spirit in our lives.

But if Adam had died to self he would have been raised to a new life as a king. Only people who can think of the future and of others are fit to be real leaders. And thus Paul says that, in the midst of persecution, we are “more than conquerors.”

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written,
“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:31-39 ESV).

Paul is not saying that we simply endure these trials. After all Jesus was not raised to the right hand of God despite the cross and the grave but through the cross and the grave. And Paul’s choice of the word “conqueror,” is not random. Romans is about dominion and rule. Paul has already clarified the relationship between tribulation and our elevation by God:

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us (Romans 5:1-5 ESV).

Doug Wilson sees evidence for the classification of “Covenant children” in 1 Corinthians 7:14.

“For the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband: else were your children unclean; but now are they holy” (1 Cor. 7:14).

The Corinthians had wanted to know whether unbelief on the part of a spouse was in itself grounds for divorce. Paul has replied no, provided that the unbelieving partner is pleased to be together with the Christian in a marriage as biblically defined. If the only thing that is wrong is the spouse’s failure to believe in Christ, then the couple should still remain together.

But isn’t it somehow a spiritual contaminant to have sex with a pagan? No, Paul argues. A Christian ought not to marry a non-Christian (2 Cor. 6:14), but once married to one, a Christian needs to be faithful to his vows regardless. That means being faithful to all the vows, including the sexual commitment. But sex is an activity that often results in children. What about the children? Won’t the offspring of a mixed marriage be outside the covenant? No, Paul replies again. In this regard, the new covenant is not like the old. In the old covenant, the unclean contaminated the clean (Haggai 2:13-14). Jesus reversed this order—He would make the unclean clean by coming in contact with it (Mark 5:25).
And this means that in a mixed marriage, when the wife conceives a child, that child is not unclean, but rather holy. The word for holy here is hagia—and this is striking because when word is applied to persons, it is almost always translated or rendered as saints. A child of at least one believing parent is a saint, and is to be treated as such. [1]

If these children of a “mixed marriage” are “saints,” then the unbelieving spouse is also a “saint.” That is, they are not regenerate but still “under Covenant” according to the Federal Vision thinking. To be consistent, the unbelieving spouse should also be baptized, to demonstrate that through this marriage to a believer they are being “discipled.”

The argument against this is that such a person clearly has not believed, or has apostatized, so they are disqualified, but that the child is yet to be disqualified.

This does not deal with the inconsistency, at least not without the fairytale of faith beginning at conception. It just promotes the inconsistency sideways. We are waiting for a response from the child, but surely we are also waiting for a response from the unbelieving spouse to the gospel, which is the real issue here.

The word hagios gets used for all sorts of things in the New Testament, just as its corresponding meaning in English gets used for many things. If I go to the fridge to grab a steak, and my wife says, “Don’t touch that! It’s for the BBQ Sunday,” then it has been set apart. Concerning the BBQ, that steak is holy, just as unregenerate Israel was holy. One could be set apart without yet being cooked by the Pentecostal fire.

That could be the meaning here. But what is setting these unbelieving spouses and, presumably, unbelieving children, apart? They are set apart by the New Covenant thing that replaced the Old Covenant circumcision, and that is not baptism, it is the gospel. They are “in school” under the “elemental truths” in a New Covenant way. But they are, spiritually, still children, still under the tutelage of angels. And under the New Covenant, it is those who are born again and baptized who are those angels, the messengers. They are not merely “set apart” for transformation. They are the transformed.

Pastor Wilson made a very sound objection to this:

Hagiadzo is a verb that means to consecrate, dedicate, or set apart. The unbelieving spouse is hagiadzoed in such a way as to result in children who are hagia. Hagia is used in all kinds of ways, sure enough, but it is not used in all kinds of ways when it is describing people. Overwhelmingly, when hagia is talking about people, an appropriate translation would be saints.

Good point.

However, Matthew Colvin insisted that both Pastor Wilson and I are barking up the wrong trees. He writes:

I don’t find this persuasive. The Greek αγιαζω means “to consecrate” alright, but it doesn’t necessarily mean “to God”. A better interpretation takes it as “consecrated to one’s spouse”, as the Jewish marriage formula to this day says, “I consecrate you to myself”, and the Mishnah tractate on marriage is Qiddushin (“consecrations”).

Contextually, this makes sense: Paul is answering a Corinthian question about whether they need to leave their unbelieving spouses. His answer is that they need not, because they are legitimately married.

As a result, the children are “holy”, meaning “legitimate,” not bastards.

That doesn’t mean that Pastor Wilson is wrong about the “federal holiness (to God)” of the children of (even one) believer. Comparison with the OT’s parallel situation proves it: the Israelites who return from the exile in Ezra and Nehemiah DO have to separate from their pagan wives. But it does mean that 1 Corinthians 7 isn’t teaching this quite as directly as Pastor Wilson supposes, and that we can rummage in lexicons looking up hagiazo and hagios all day, and we won’t really make any headway.

Colvin links to some posts on his blog, which explain his position in detail. I like it for two reasons: 1) It means this passage gives no support to the practice of paedobaptism, and 2) it means the word hagio can be used of people without designating some kind of unregenerate sainthood, which the Federal Vision logically requires to maintain its practice of paedobaptism.

Colvin writes:

One of my Greek III students, Annelise B., surprised me with a translation I had never heard before. On further reflection, I decided that she was right and all the major translations (NIV, ESV, NKJV, etc.) are wrong. Her translation fits well with my preferred interpretation of 1 Cor. 7, which is that of David Daube.

In what follows, I’ll explain what her translation was, and why I like it.

First, the background, from an old post on this blog:

[Daube's view] makes sense of one of the most difficult passages of the Bible: 1 Cor. 7. First, the difficult verse, 7:14 — “the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife and the unbelieving wife is sanctified in the brother [sc. believing husband]” — is cleared up in an elegant way. Remarks Daube, “New Testament scholars have enormous difficulty infusing a measure of meaning into [ἡγίασται in 7:14]. The various conjectures often then become bases for more general theories about Paul’s concept of holiness. All this must be jettisoned.”

Daube explains that the Mishnah tractate on marriage is entitled “qiddushin” — “consecrations” or “sanctifications”, and that this is the ordinary way that the Rabbis conceived of marriage: “to consecrate a woman to wife” is to make her holy, special and proper, to one’s self, even as Israel is — as Steve Schlissel likes to put it — Mrs. YHWH. The verb qiddesh means “to consecrate to wife.” We thus no longer have to wonder what sort of “sanctification” is meant.

For Daube, then, 1 Cor. 7:14 is to be translated as, “the unbelieving husband is sanctified in [= is married to] the wife, and the unbelieving wife in [to] the brother [sc. believing husband]. But if the unbeliever departs, let him depart.” [2]

Annelise, being already familiar with this rendering, continued on to 7:15b, which reads in Greek:

οὐ δεδούλωται ὁ ἀδελφὸς ἢ ἡ ἀδελφὴ ἐν τοῖς τοιούτοις…

Now, you are probably familiar with such renderings as “a believing man or woman is not bound in such circumstances” (NIV) or “the brother or the sister is not under bondage in such cases” (KJV, NASB, ESV and NKJV). But Annelise, whether because she didn’t remember these English translations, or because she had an idea of her own that she wanted to try, rendered it this way:

“The brother or sister is not bound to such persons.”

I believe she is correct. There are several factors that commend her reading.

First, she interprets δεδούλωται to mean “bound in marriage to someone.” There is very good reason for thinking this, since it is in the perfect tense, and thus parallel with the twice-repeated ἡγίασται in 7:14. That verb was rendered as “has been consecrated/sanctified”, with the result that one is now “married.” That is, it refers to the action in the past by which the present state of valid marriage was produced: namely, the decision to continue living with one’s pre-conversion spouse. By contrast, οὐ δεδούλωται in 7:15 would similarly refer to the past action that has resulted in the present state of freedom to depart: namely, the refusal of the unbeliever to continue the marriage, evinced by his separation, so that the believer “has not been bound” by such cohabitation, and is thus not married.

Second, Annelise takes ἐν τοιούτοις as an inclusive masculine, not as a neuter: the believer is not bound “to or by such persons”, not “in such circumstances.” I cannot recall the use of the neuter substantive τοιαυτα in the dative to mean “such circumstances” or “such cases” in any other Greek literature. By contrast, Annelise’s reading of the word as a masculine substantive is paralleled several times within 1 Corinthians itself: “such persons” (τοιούτοι) will have affliction in the flesh (7:28); the church is to hand “such a person” (τοιούτον) over to Satan (5:5). As for its being dative, there is now an immediate parallel with “ἡγιάσται ἐν τῷ ἀδελφῷ” (“sanctified in the brother) in the preceding verse (7:14). In both instances, ἐν + dative.

Daube’s rendering of ἡγίασται rendered otiose centuries of tortured attempts to figure out how an unbelieving person can experience sanctification just by being married to a believer. Annelise’s rendering of δεδούλωται eliminates similar problems that have beset all attempts to understand Paul’s marriage and divorce halakhah. For instance: on the reading of the KJV and succeeding English versions, we are left wondering why the believer is “not bound in such circumstances”. The mere departure of one’s spouse does not, after all, dissolve a marriage. Hence the medieval privilegium Paulinum whereby abandonment, normally not grounds for divorce, becomes grounds when the departing spouse is an unbeliever. Such a halakhah is unprecedented. But on Annelise’s reading, the verse is merely stating the fact that the believer has not been bound to the unbeliever who departs. Since the original marriage was destroyed by the conversion of the now-believing spouse, and the unbelieving spouse departed, there has been no cohabitation to effect a new bond. Hence, the perfect tense is precisely what Paul wants: there has been no past action, and so there is no present state.

I am grateful to Annelise for this reading. I still vividly recall when I was in a similar situation with my teacher Dr. James Lesher in 1996. Without knowing the tortured scholarship on a particular fragment of Heraclitus, I translated it in a new way, and he, for his part, was persuaded. It got me a footnote in his next article, and launched me, for better or worse, on a career as a scholar. I regret that I’m not in a position to give Annelise more than this mention in a blog post. [3]

A Federal Vision friend remarked that looking for answers in extra-biblical literature is not the way to go about interpreting the Bible. I agree with that. And yet the extra-biblical literature we are looking at here is the Talmud. Much of what Jesus Himself said was for the purpose of contradicting the Oral Law, which the Jewish leaders had used to subvert the true faith of Israel. I do not believe Daube, or Colvin, are doing anything different here.

_____________________________________
[1] Douglas Wilson, Children As Saints.
[2] Matthew Colvin, Sanctified by the Believer”? 1 Corinthians 7. This is reproduced in full below for those interested, and for my own reference just in case his blog goes offline some day.
[3] Matthew Colvin, 1 Corinthians 7:15 and Serendipity in the Greek 3 Class.

“Sanctified by the Believer”? 1 Corinthians 7 – November 10, 2006

Quite some time ago, I wrote a blog post criticizing Mark Horne’s understanding of 1 Cor. 7′s language about children of mixed marriages (“otherwise your children would be unclean, but as it is they are holy”). I advocated an opposing interpretation, rather forcefully. I have now come to believe that I was wrong, and that a third way is correct. As usual, consideration of the neglected Jewish background provides the answer.
David Daube’s contention is that two of the scenarios in 1 Corinthians — the incestuous union of chapter 5, and the marriage that becomes mixed as a result of the conversion of one spouse in chapter 7 — both depend upon a doctrine of conversion as new creation. By conversion to Christianity, the believer loses — in principle, at least — all his previous relations. Daube also suggests that this principle is at work in the epistle to Philemon in the case of the slave Onesimus.
The principle is at work in both ch. 5 and ch. 7, but not in the same way. In ch. 5, Paul’s concern is to rebuke the Corinthians for their misunderstanding and misapplication of the doctrine of re-creation. The principle, Daube suggest, is “the Rabbinic teaching that a proselyte is as a newborn child. Hence he has no relations from before; and as far as his pre-conversion ties are concerned, in principle the rules of incest do not apply; in principle he may marry his stepmother or indeed his own mother — neither is related to him, a new man.”
Of course, in 1 Cor. 5, the “new man” in question emphatically may not marry his stepmother. Paul prohibits such a union as porneia. Why does he do so, if this doctrine of new creation really applies to new converts, and the man in question is a new convert? The answer Daube gives is that what is true in principle cannot be used to flout the perceptions of others. Thus, although meat sacrificed to an idol is in principle fair game for a Christian to eat, Paul “will never eat meat again” if such eating “causes my brother to stumble” (ִεἰ βρῶμα σκανδαλίζει τὸν ἀδελφόν μου). Focusing on 8:9′s general maxim (“watch out that your very right to do something does not become a stumbling block to the weak”), Daube concludes that Paul restricts the freedom that the believer has in principle. He suggests that a similar restriction is at work in the case of πορνεία in chapter 5. As support, he adduces the words, “and such πορνεία as is not even among the gentiles” – sc. even Greeks and Romans did not allow marriage between stepson and stepmother.
(We note, by the way, that both of these issues are probably occasioned by the delivery of the Jerusalem council’s four commands, which Paul must have communicated to them at some time prior to the Corinthians’ first letter to him — making 1 Cor. itself the third piece of correspondence in the exchange, unless Paul delivered the Jerusalem prohibitions in person. That the council’s decrees were aimed specially at Gentiles, to urge them to follow the commands of Lev. 17-18, is thus further confirmed by Paul’s addition of “not even among the gentiles” to his mention of πορνεία in 5:1)
There are certain glaring objections to Daube’s reading, and I am not wholly convinced myself. But let me first explain why I find it attractive.
It makes sense of one of the most difficult passages of the Bible: 1 Cor. 7. First, the difficult verse, 7:14 — “the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife and the unbelieving wife is sanctified in the brother [sc. believing husband]” — is cleared up in an elegant way. Remarks Daube, “New Testament scholars have enormous difficulty infusing a measure of meaning into [ἡγίασται in 7:14]. The various conjectures often then become bases for more general theories about Paul’s concept of holiness. All this must be jettisoned.”
Daube explains that the Mishnah tractate on marriage is entitled “qiddushin” — “consecrations” or “sanctifications”, and that this is the ordinary way that the Rabbis conceived of marriage: “to consecrate a woman to wife” is to make her holy, special and proper, to one’s self, even as Israel is — as Steve Schlissel likes to put it — Mrs. YHWH. The verb qiddesh means “to consecrate to wife.” We thus no longer have to wonder what sort of “sanctification” is meant.
As so often with Daube’s suggestions, this recourse to a Jewish explanation results in the unraveling of further puzzles — which thereby serve as a confirmation of the solution to the first crux. In the present instance, I note a point that Daube did not mention: the odd locution “ἐν τῷ ἀδελφῷ” — which occasioned so much wrangling between me and Tim Gallant and Joel Garver — becomes crystal clear as a Hebraism: Paul is almost certainly translating literally the Hebrew idiom קָדַשׁ בְּ, which is used several times in the OT ( Lev. 10:3, 22:32; Ez. 20:41, 39:27, 36:23, 38:16; Nu 20:13). In all these instances, God is speaking of himself being “sanctified in Israel” — not human marriage, but perhaps similar if one considers the covenantal relationship between God and Israel. Later, the phrase becomes technical: in the Talmud, the idiom means “to marry someone.” The inseparable Hebrew preposition בְּ may mean “in” or “by”, and Paul has chosen the Greek ἐν rather than ὑπὸ + gen for agency, because he conceives of the consecration in question as the automatic effect of marriage (by whatever mode) rather than as the result of that someone’s agency within the marriage. In this, he is just like the Rabbis.
As a parallel for his understanding of 1 Cor. 7, Daube summarizes y.Yeb. 12a:

‘A heathen converts together with his two wives, who are mother and daugher or sisters. The ruling, it will be seen, implies that the marriages are now extinct, that neither woman is related to the other, and that continuing cohabitation will bring about a fresh marriage. This is what the Rabbis ordain: (a) he should keep one and dismiss the other; (b) once he has had intercourse after conversion with one, this is his wife; and (c) if he has had intercourse after conversion with both, both are his wives. The rationale of the decision is as follows. Jewish law prohibits marriage with a woman and her daughter or sister. However, owing to conversion, neither of these women is any longer related to the other. In principle, therefore, there is no objection to marriage with both. Nonetheless, according to (a), one ought to be discarded, because otherwise Judaism might look like a lighter sanctity: even heathers do not customarily marry mother and daughter or sisters, though as the present case shows it does happen. Which of the two is to go is up to the man; and it is worth noting that the verb in the text, hosi’, “to lead out,” may refer not only to dissolution of a marriage but also to dismissal where there is no room for divorce proper — e.g. to Halitzah. For, again, owing to conversion, the marriages are ended. He simply bids one of them leave. With the one he keeps, a fresh marriage is constituted by continuing cohabitation. This is evident from (b) where it is provided that once he has cohabited with one, he has lost his free choice: she has become his wife. It is confirmed by (c): by cohabiting with both, however undesirable it may be, he has made both his wives. It seems that the Rabbis do not even insist that he now divorce one of the two: the risk of giving the impression of a lighter sanctity is not in this case so overwhelmingly grave as to call for further measures once he has remarried both — heathens do occasionally contract this union.’
- “Pauline Contributions to a Pluralistic Culture” in Jesus and Man’s Hope, vol. 2, 223-45, repr. in CWDD II, 537-52.

The parallels with the situation in I Cor. 7 are apparent. If Daube is right, there is no “Pauline Privilege” to divorce in the case of conversion. The Roman Catholic Church has made that up on the basis of a misinterpretation. Rather, one simply allows the unbeliever to leave. Do not send him away if he is willing to continue. A fresh marriage is constituted by the cohabitation, so any child of the marriage is not illegitimate, but ἅγιος. Incidentally, Daube’s interpretation provides a clear reason for the difference between the status of the unbelieving spouse (ἡγίασται, “has been sanctified”) and the status of the child (ἅγιος, “holy” or “clean,” i.e. “legitimate”) — a difference which has proved difficult for other interpretations to explain.
Daube’s view also provides a basis for the permission to allow the unbeliever to leave the marriage. On the Privilegium Paulinum reading, the apostle is said to be allowing divorce, and for a reason that Jesus himself did not countenance. (There is no mention of πορνεία on the part of the unbeliever.) But on Daube’s reading, there is no divorce in view at all.
On the other hand, if the unbeliever wishes to stay, then the reconstituted marriage is to be welcomed by the believer, who is to prefer the possible conversion of the unbeliever to any exercise of spiritual rights.
All this I find fairly persuasive. It has huge consequences for Christian thought about marriage and divorce, which has been going merrily along for many years now pitting Paul against Jesus or trying to “reconcile” their supposedly different teachings.
We have now come full circle to reconsider 1 Cor. 5:1, where Daube suggests that the same doctrine is at work, and being abused. The Corinthians would not have tolerated open incest. But in this case, they are “puffed up” and proud of it. The reason, he suggests, is that they see the man who has his father’s wife as a shining example of the spiritual freedom they all have as new creations in Christ. Paul’s objection to this activity is based, Daube says, on the fact that it would present a stumbling block to pagans. Paul does not want the surrounding Greco-Roman culture to suppose that Christians are looser than themselves in matters of sexual morality.
The problem with this view was aptly put to me by my former student Betsy P., now in her first year at Hillsdale: Isn’t it absurd to suppose that Paul thinks marrying one’s stepmother is in itself unobjectionable, but doing so when the pagans would raise their eyebrows is grounds for ostracism from the church? It is indeed.
Yet it still seems to me that Daube’s reading accounts well for the spiritual pride of the Corinthians about this matter, and for Paul’s attacks on the same.
I would like to do some more research to get some more Rabbinic evidence. The most relevant tractate of the Talmud is b.Quddishin, which deals with the laws of marriage. Its content, however, is naughty — so much so that it is usually omitted from English translations, is not available online, and is not offered by Soncino Press for individual purchase. (You have to buy the whole Talmud to get it. I will eventually, but I don’t have the $850 for the whole set yet.)

“It takes on form like clay under a seal…” (Job 38:14)

Read The Secret before you read this post.

Typology is the science of recognizing the shape of one thing stamped upon, into, something else. In itself, this is not an exact science by any means, and is prone to abuse. Thankfully, the Bible doesn’t simply give us isolated “indentations”; it gives them to us in sequences. Sequences of ideas, like sequences of musical notes, are exact, even if our identification of them is not yet as refined as we would like.

[This post has been refined and included in Sweet Counsel: Essays to Brighten the Eyes.]

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Desirable to make one wise

Mark Horne writes:

The first time wisdom is mentioned in the Bible, it is used to describe what tempted Eve about the tree–that it was desirable to make her wise.

This seems to be the equivalent of gaining the knowledge of good and evil, having one’s eyes opened… and being like God.

At the end of Genesis 3 God seems to agree with these equivalences:

Then the Lord God said, “Behold, the man has become like one of us in knowing good and evil…”

Adam and Eve are naked in the beginning of Genesis. Genesis ends with a man who, after repeatedly losing his robe of authority through injustice, gains authority over the whole world… precisely because he is wise.

This proposal pleased Pharaoh and all his servants. And Pharaoh said to his servants, “Can we find a man like this, in whom is the Spirit of God?” Then Pharaoh said to Joseph, “Since God has shown you all this, there is none so discerning and wise as you are. You shall be over my house, and all my people shall order themselves as you command. Only as regards the throne will I be greater than you.” And Pharaoh said to Joseph, “See, I have set you over all the land of Egypt.” Then Pharaoh took his signet ring from his hand and put it on Joseph’s hand, and clothed him in garments of fine linen and put a gold chain about his neck.

The great exchange means you are dealing with Jesus in that Christian who sinned against you.

So if you consider me your partner, receive him as you would receive me. If he has wronged you at all, or owes you anything, charge that to my account. I, Paul, write this with my own hand: I will repay it—to say nothing of your owing me even your own self.

So writes Paul to Philemon about his runaway slave, Onesimus.

Notice the exchange that takes place.

First, Paul says that Onesimus is being sent back to Philemon as Paul’s representative. Philemon must regard this slave who has sinned against him as Paul.

Second, Paul says that Onesimus’ sin against Philemon must be held against Paul.

Get that? Paul became Onesimus’ sin so that Onesimus could become Paul’s righteousness — his standing before Philemon.

Is that not the Great Exchange? According to Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, we get Christ’s mission as the personification of the righteousness and faithfulness of God because Christ took our sin (Paul is speaking of Apostles here but I’m sure he would agree that the principle applies more widely):

Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

Onesimus the slave who sinned is, to Philemon, now an ambassador from Paul.

And this brings us to the sticking point.

Every Christian you know is sent to you by Jesus. Each one was commissioned in baptism to be Christ’s representative. And this calling is not destroyed by the ways they have sinned against you, much less annoy you.

You are supposed to receive them as you would receive Jesus. And any wrong they have done you, you are to charge to Christ’s account. He will repay it — to say nothing of your owing Him your very self.