Andrews University Seminary Studies Autumn 2011 Number 2: Articles Theology

ANDREWS UNIVERSITY SEMINARY STUDIES
Volume 49
Autumn 2011
Number 2
CONTENTS
ARTICLES
THEOLOGY
JANKIEWICZ, EDYTA, AND DARIUS JANKIEWICZ. Let the
Little Children Come: Toward a Seventh-day
Adventist Theology of Childhood......................................................... 213
NEW TESTAMENT
REEVE, TERESA. Rite from the Very Beginning: Rites of Passage
in Luke 14 and Their Function in
the Narrative of Luke-Acts ...................................................................... 243
STEFANOVIC, RANKO. The Lords Day of Revelation 1:10
in the Current Debate ............................................................................... 261
LICHTENWALTER, LARRY L. The Seventh-day Sabbath and
Sabbath Theology in the Book of Revelation:
Creation, Covenant, Sign ......................................................................... 285
CHURCH HISTORY
JOHNSTON, ROBERT M. The Sabbath as Metaphor in the
Second Century C.E................................................................................... 321
ANTIC, RADIA. The Controversy Over Fasting on
Saturday between Constantinople and Rome ...................................... 337
DISSERTATION ABSTRACTS
DOSUNMU, PAUL ADEKUNLE. A Missiological Study
of the Phenomenon of Dual Allegiance in the
Seventh-day Adventist Church Among the
Yoruba People of Nigeria ...................................................................... 353
FREY, MATHILDE. The Sabbath in the Pentateuch:
An Exegtical and Theological Study ..................................................... 354
209
210
SEMINARY STUDIES 49 (AUTUMN 2011)
OLADINI, LAWRENCE O. A Comparative Study of

the Concept of Atonement in the Writings
of John R. W. Stott and Ellen G. White ............................................... 355
BOOK REVIEWS
Abraham, William J., and James E. Kirby, eds. The Oxford
Handbook of Methodist Studies (RUSSELL L. STAPLES) ............................. 357
Alter, Robert. The Wisdom Books: Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes:
A Translation with Commentary (RUSSELL L. MEEK)................................ 360
Beentjes, Pancratius C. Tradition and Transformation in
the Books of Chronicles (JEFF HUDON) ...................................................... 361
Doukhan, Lilianne. In Tune with God (KEN PARSONS,
PEDRITO U. MAYNARD-REID, THOMAS SHEPHERD) .................................. 364
Erikson, Millard J. Whos Tampering with the Trinity?
An Assessment of the Subordination Debate
(WOODROW WHIDDEN) ................................................................................ 375
Fladerer, Ldwig. Augustine als Exeget: Zu seinen Kommentaren
des Galaterbriefes und der Genesis (JAMIE G. BOUCHER) ............................... 376
Halpern, Baruch, and Andr Lemaire, eds. The Books of Kings:
Sources, Composition, Historiography and Reception
(JEFF HUDON) ............................................................................................ 378
Helmer, Christine, ed. The Global Luther: A Theologian for
Modern Times (TREVOR OREGGIO) ......................................................... 384
Hepner, Gershon. Legal Friction: Law, Narrative, and Identity
Politics in Biblical Israel (CARLOS A. BECHARA) ........................................ 387
LeMon, Joel M., and Kent Harold Richards, eds. Method Matters:
Essays on the Interpretation of the Hebrew Bible in Honor of
David L. Petersen (EIKE MUELLER) ............................................................. 390
Mack, Phyllis. Heart Religion in the British Enlightenment: Gender
and Emotion in Early Methodism (MICHAEL W. CAMPBELL) ..................... 394
Moore, Marvin. The Case for the Investigative Judgment: Its
Biblical Foundation (RICHARD M. DAVIDSON) ............................................. 396
Muraoka, T. A Greek-Hebrew/Aramaic Two-way Index
to the Septuagint (DANIEL M. GURTNER) .................................................... 400
Niehaus, Jeffrey J. Ancient Near Eastern Themes
in Biblical Theology (GERALD WHEELER).................................................................... 401
Peterson, Eugene H. Practice Resurrection: A Conversation on

Growing Up in Christ (JANE THAYER) ......................................................... 403
Thuesen, Peter J. Predestination: The American Career of a
Contentious Doctrine (MICHAEL W. CAMPBELL) ......................................... 405
TABLE OF CONTENTS
211
************
The articles in this journal are indexed, abstracted, or listed in: Elenchus of
Biblica; Internationale Zeitschriftenschau fr Bibelwissenschaft und Grenzgebiete; New
Testament Abstracts; Index Theologicus/Zeitschrifteninhaltsdienst Theologie; Old
Testament Abstracts; Orientalistische Literaturzeitung; American Theological Library
Association; Religious and Theological Abstracts; Seventh-day Adventist Periodical Index;
Theologische Zeitschrift; Zeitschrift fr die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft.
Copyright 2011 by Andrews University Press
ISSN 0003-2980
Andrews University Seminary Studies, Vol. 49, No. 2, 213-242.

Copyright 2011 Andrews University Press.
LET THE LITTLE CHILDREN COME:

TOWARD A SEVENTH-DAY
ADVENTIST THEOLOGY
OF CHILDHOOD
Edyta Jankiewicz
Berrien Springs, Michigan
Darius Jankiewicz
Andrews University
The subject of children and childhood has not traditionally been considered
worthy of serious theological consideration. In fact, reflection on the nature
of children and their spiritual formation has often been considered beneath
the work of theologians and Christian ethicists, and thus relegated as a fitting
area of inquiry only for those directly involved in ministry with children.1
As a result, the few teachings that the church has offered on the nature of
children have developed in light of practice. While it is true that our practice
of ministry does influence our theologising about it, pastoral ministry
with children should ideally flow out of a carefully articulated theology
of childhood, and not vice versa.2 Thus the purpose of this paper is to (1)
explore biblical perspectives on children and childhood, (2) examine historical
perspectives on children in the Christian church, and (3) begin to articulate
a Seventh-day Adventist theology of children and childhood, as well as the
implications of such a theology for the practice of ministry with children
within an Adventist context.
Old Testament Perspectives on Children
Children play a crucial role in the story of God and humanity. In the opening
book of the Bible, God creates human beings in his image. Then, in his first
recorded words to humanity, God pronounces a blessing on human beings,
a blessing that concerns children: God blessed them and said to them, Be
fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it (Gen 1:28a).3 In
these simple words, God confers the blessing of procreation on humanity.
This blessing is reiterated when God establishes a covenant with Noah and
his children: Then God blessed Noah and his sons, saying to them, Be
fruitful and increase in number and fill the earth (Gen 9:1).
Marcia J. Bunge, Historical Perspectives on Children in the Church: Resources
for Spiritual Formation and a Theology of Childhood Today, in Childrens Spirituality:
Christian Perspectives, Research, and Applications, ed. Donald Ratcliff (Eugene, OR:
Cascade, 2004), 43.
2
Ibid.
3
Scottie May, Beth Posteroski, Catherine Stonehouse, and Linda Cannell, Children
Matter: Celebrating Their Place in the Church, Family and Community (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2005), 26. Unless otherwise indicated, all translations of the Bible will be
from the NIV.
1
213
214
Seminary Studies 49 (Autumn 2011)
Children are also central to the promises that God makes to Abraham: I
will make you into a great nation and I will bless you; I will make your name
great, and you will be a blessing . . . and all peoples on earth will be blessed
through you (Gen 12: 2-3). These divine promises were dependent on the birth
of children. Therefore, it is striking that across three generations children were
so hard to come by in this family chosen by God.4 When God did fulfill his
promises, however, the descendants of Abraham recognized that their children
were a fulfillment of these divine promises. When Jacob fled from Laban and
returned to the land of his brother, Esau asked, Who are these with you?
Jacob answered, They are the children God has graciously given your servant
(Gen 33:5). When Joseph met Jacob in Egypt, he introduced his children as the
sons God has given me here (Gen 48:9). Ultimately, Gods promise to make
Abraham into a great nation is also fulfilled: [T]he Israelites were fruitful and
multiplied greatly and became exceedingly numerous, so that the land was filled
with them (Exod 1:7a). By using the terms fruitful, multiplied, and filled,
Moses not only recognized the fulfillment of Gods promises to Abraham, but
also alluded to his covenant with Noah and the first blessing on humanity at
the creation of the world, thus reminding the reader that the gift of children
in general, and of the Israelite children in particular, is a distinguishing, tangible
manifestation of Gods ongoing blessing of humankind.5
Children continue to play a prominent role in the book of Exodus,
particularly in the first half of the book: in the genealogies of the first and
sixth chapters; in Pharaohs attempt to kill the male Hebrew infants; in the
birth and rescue of baby Moses; and in the climax of the plagues upon
Egypt, when the firstborn of Egypt are killed, while the firstborn of Israel
are passed over (Exod 12:27). Children are also central to the instructions
that God gives to the Israelites regarding the commemoration of this event:
when your children ask you, What does this ceremony mean to you? then
tell them (Exod 12:26-27; cf. 10:2). In Exod 13:15-16, the command is
once again reiterated, and the fate of Egypts children, at whose cost Israels
children had been redeemed, is highlighted.6 Leviticus and Numbers continue
4
Terrence Fretheim, God Was With the Boy: Children in the Book of Genesis,
in The Child in the Bible, ed. Marcia J. Bunge (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 6. Sarah,
Rebekah, and Rachel all experienced barrenness; see Gen 15:2-4; 18:1-15; 25:21; 30:18, 22-24.
5
Claire R. Matthews McGinnis, Exodus as a Text of Terror for Children, in
The Child in the Bible, ed. Marcia J. Bunge (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 28.
6
While such a meaning may not seem evident at a first reading of the passage,
the Haggadah or Passover Seder, a Jewish document that provides the order of the
Passover celebrations, refers to the suffering of the Egyptians. The document includes
this group reading: Though we descend from those redeemed from brutal Egypt, and
have ourselves rejoiced to see oppressors overcome, yet our triumph is diminished by
the slaughter of the foe, as the wine within the cup of joy is lessened when we pour
ten drops for the plagues upon Egypt. This group reading is preceded by the quote
from the Talmud : Our rabbis taught: When the Egyptian armies were drowning in the
sea, the Heavenly Hosts broke out in songs of jubilation. God silenced them and said,
Let the Little Children Come . . .
215
to highlight the importance of children. The Israelites are expressly forbidden

to sacrifice their children (Lev 18:21; 20:1-5), as such practice is linked
directly with profaning Gods name. Thus Roy Gane comments, This was a
particularly heinous form of idolatry because it showed cruel disrespect for
precious life entrusted to parents.7 In addition to giving children prominent
attention, the book of Deuteronomy highlights their centrality to the survival
of Hebrew national and religious identity. It is evident, therefore, that the
theme of children and their importance to Gods plan of redemption plays
an important role in the books of Moses. The gift of children, given at
creation, is reinforced in the covenant between God and Abraham and plays
a crucial role in the survival of Hebrew nationality and identity, ultimately
serving as continuing evidence of Gods blessing upon humankind.8
The message that children are a blessing given by God is confirmed
throughout the remainder of the OT. Solomon, for example, proclaims that
children are a heritage and a reward from the Lord, and that the man
whose quiver is full of them is blessed (Ps 127:3-5). Similarly, the author of
Psalm 128 declares that the man who fears the Lord is blessed with a wife
and children (vv. 1-4). Coupled with this view that children are gifts from God
and a sign of his blessing is the concept of children as sources of joy.9 From
Abraham and Sarah, who rejoice in the birth of their son Isaac (Gen 21:6) to
the promise given to Zechariah and Elizabeth that their child will be a joy and
delight to them (Luke 1:14), the Scriptures are filled with examples in which
children are spoken of as sources of joy and a special blessing from the Lord.
In addition to pronouncing children a blessing and a joy, the OT also speaks
of adult obligation to children. In Genesis, God asserts that he has chosen
Abraham, so that he will direct his children and his household after him to
keep the way of the Lord by doing what is right and just (18:19). This theme
of adult responsibility to guide and nurture children in the way of the Lord
is repeated in many passages of Scripture. In the ordinary tasks of sit[ting] at
home and walk[ing] along the road, parents are to teach their children to love
the Lord their God with all their heart (Deut 6:5). During annual celebrations
and when encountering sacred monuments, parents are to tell their children
what God has done for them (Exod 12:26-27; 13:8; Lev 23:43; Josh 4:23). Again
My creatures are perishing, and you sing praises (Herbert Bronstein, ed., A Passover
Haggadah [Middlesex, UK: Penguin, 1982], 48-49). In his commentary on Exodus,
Terrence Fretheim sees the statements found in chap. 13 as a reminder to the Jewish
people that their redemption came at the cost of Egypts firstborn children. He thus
writes that this passage gives a special twist to the issue of the firstborn. In essence,
Israel is to continue to be attentive to its firstborn because of what the Egyptian
firstborn have suffered. . . . This is thus an everlasting reminder in Israel at what cost
Israels firstborn were redeemed (Exodus [Louisville: John Knox, 1991], 149).
7
Roy Gane, Leviticus, Numbers: The NIV Application Commentary (Grand Rapids:
Zondervan, 2004), 361.
8
McGinnis, 42.
9
Bunge, 45.
216
and again adults are reminded to tell their children about [Gods] faithfulness
(Isa 38:19) and the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord (Ps 78:4). Adults are also
to teach children in the way [they] should go (Prov 22:6), so that they may
know what is right and just and fair (Prov 2:9).
In addition to the obligation for guiding and nurturing their own children,
the Scriptures also teach communal responsibility for the fatherless or
orphan children of society (Exod 22:22-24; Deut 14:28-29; James 1:27).
This human obligation is grounded in Gods pledge to execute justice and
mercy to these most vulnerable members of society (Deut 10:17-18; Hos
14:3; Pss 10:14, 17-18; 68:5-6; 146:9).10
New Testament Perspectives on Children
Children also play a remarkably prominent and important role in the writings
of the NT, particularly in the Synoptic Gospels. Even though Jewish society
considered children a blessing from God, children in Jesus day still lived on
the margins of society. This was a world of and for the adult.11 Yet the
Gospels are replete with stories of children, particularly the Gospel according
to Luke, which not only records the birth of both John the Baptist and Jesus,
but which alone among the Gospels that pauses to open a window onto the
childhood of Jesus.12 Furthermore, the Gospels record that Jesus repeatedly
focused his attention on children, taking the time to hold them and bless
them (Matt 19:13-15; Mark 10:16; Luke 18:15-17), as well as heal them (Luke
8:41-42, 49-56; 9:37-43; cf. Matt 17:14-18; Mark 7:24-30). Not only did Jesus
welcome and bless the children, he affirmed their place in the kingdom
of God. When the disciples sought to turn the children away from him,
apparently considering them insufficiently important to warrant his attention,
Jesus commands, Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them,
for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these (Matt 19:14; Mark 10:14;
Luke 18:16). Then, in an even more radical statement, Jesus continues: Truly
I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child
10
Walter Brueggemann, Vulnerable Children, Divine Passion, and Human
Obligation, in The Child in the Bible, ed. Marcia Bunge (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
2008), 399.
11
John T. Carroll, What Then Will This Child Become? Perspectives on Children
in the Gospel of Luke, in The Child in the Bible, ed. Marcia J. Bunge (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2008), 177-178, 191. Catherine Stonehouse and Scottie May point to the
fact that in the accounts of feeding the five thousand in Matthew and Luke only men
are counted (Matt 14:21; Luke 9:14) (Listening to Children on the Spiritual Journey: Guidance
for Those Who Teach and Nurture [Grand Rapids: Baker, 2010], 13). A general disregard
for children is also evident in the disciples rebuke to the mothers who brought their
young ones to Jesus (Matt 19:14). The same Greek word, translated as rebuke, is
used in Mark 9:33 when Jesus rebukes Satan, who was behind Peters words, as well
as in various accounts where Jesus rebukes the demons. Cf. W. A. Strange, Children
in the Early Church (Carlisle: Paternoster, 1996), 6-7.
12
Carroll, 177.
217
will never enter it (Mark 10:15; Luke 18:17). As Catherine Stonehouse and
Scotty May so poignantly state: Children, not just adults, belong in Gods
kingdom. Furthermore, they are not marginal members of the kingdom,
just tagging along with their parents, waiting to grow up and become real
members. No, children are models in the kingdom of God, showing adults
how to enter.13
According to Jesus, anyone who wishes to enter Gods kingdom should
look to those of lowest power and status as models to be emulated. Just as
Jesus himself is the paradigm of greatness in the upside-down world where
God is in charge,14 so children are symbolic of the upside-down, insideout world that is Gods kingdom.15 When the disciples argue about who
will be the greatest in the kingdom of heaven, Jesus again challenges them
to demonstrate greatness according to the upside-down values of Gods
kingdom by welcoming children. In welcoming children in his name, he
asserts, they will discover they have welcomed God himself (Matt 18:1-5;
Mark 9:33-37; Luke 9:46-48).
While in the remainder of the NT children do not appear to play a
prominent role, it is evident that they were included in the households of
those who came to believe in Christ. At a time when children continued to
be marginalized, the early Christian church, as portrayed in the book of Acts,
appears to have followed the example of Jesus and welcomed children.16
It seems of importance to Luke, for example, to indicate that the entire
households of Cornelius and the jailer came to believe in God (Acts 11:14;
16:31-34). Commenting on the Greek word oikos (translated as household
or family), Otto Michel suggests that in the discourses of Acts it is
explicitly emphasized that the conversion of a man leads his whole family
to the faith; this would include wife, children, servants and relatives living
in the house.17 While Lukes language is ambiguous regarding the value of
individual decisions, his statements appear to be in harmony with Peters
thinking, when, in his Pentecost sermon, he exclaimed: the promise is for
you and your children (Acts 2:39). Furthermore, while the Epistles seem
to exclusively use the term children to describe Christian believers, Pauls
exhortation for fathers to not exasperate (Eph 6:4) or embitter (Col 3:21)
their children indicates a countercultural sensitivity to childrens needs.
In summary, the Scriptures portray children as blessings from God and
sources of joy, deserving of guidance and nurture from both parents and
members of the faith community. Jesus suggestion that children are models
of greatness18 further reinforces Gods great valuing of children. Theologians
within the Christian era, however, have not always depicted children in such
Stonehouse and May, 14.
Carroll, 191.
15
Ibid., 194.
16
Strange, 70-71.
17
Otto Michel, Oikos, TDNT (1967), 5:130.
18
13
14
218
positive terms. It is to a brief examination of historical perspectives on

children within the Christian tradition that we now turn.19
Historical Perspectives on Children
Throughout the centuries, theologians within the Christian church have
expressed a variety of perspectives on children and childhood. Much of this
diversity has revolved around the nature of children, particularly in regard
to the sinfulness of children and thus their salvation. Were children to be
considered innocent and good, or were they, by nature, evil and depraved?
What was the status of children within the church, including when and why
were they to be baptized? Were they to be considered of an equal status
within the community of faith, or were they, until a certain age, in a different
category than adult believers? Some discussion has also centered on the nature
of adult obligations to children.
The Post-Apostolic Church
Although the Christian church evolved in a world where children were not
highly valued,20 the historical evidence suggests that the early post-Apostolic
church attempted to follow the example of Jesus by providing a countercultural,
all-inclusive environment for children and other marginalized groups. 21 The
Patristic evidence of this era suggests that children tended to be embraced by
the community and functioned not just as spectators during worship services,
but were taught alongside the adults, occasionally called on to serve,22 and
partook in the celebration of the Lords Supper.23 Similarly, the early church
For a more comprehensive overview of historical perspectives on children
in the Christian tradition, see James Riley Estep Jr., who explores views of children
in the Ante-Nicene (second- and third-century) church (The Christian Nurture of
Children in the Second and Third Centuries in Nurturing Childrens Spirituality: Christian
Perspectives and Best Practices, ed. Holly Catterton Allen [Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2008]);
and Marcia J. Bunge, ed., who examines how key theologians from the fourth to the
twentieth centuries have viewed children (The Child in Christian Thought [Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2001]).
20
Frank R. Cowell, Life in Ancient Rome (New York: Perigee, 1980), 35; Everett
Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 69, 73.
21
This period encompasses the last part of the first century and stretches out to
the middle of the second century. The subapostolic writings such as 1 Clement and
Didache, as well as the writings of the Apostolic Fathers appear during this period. See
Francis Sullivan, From Apostles to Bishops (New York: Newman, 2001), 54.
22
See, e.g., Cyprian, Letter 32 (ANF 5:312).
23
Strange, 104, suggests that while the NT is silent on childrens participation in
the early Christians Lords Supper, there are no reasons why they should have been
forbidden from being a part of the ordinance. After all, Strange notes, the early
Christians were familiar with the Passover celebration, in which children were required
to participate. Furthermore, he argues we can also say that when we begin to have some
19
219
appears to have looked to Jesus teachings on children for understanding

their nature.24 Thus the Patristic writers of the early second century tended to
highlight the innocence, rather than sinfulness, of children.25 It was not until
firm evidence, in the third century, we find children receiving Communion without the
matter being controversial. If a change had occurred in the century and a half that
separates the NT from our first reference to child communion, then it was a change
that had happened without causing a stir. It would also have been a change in a period
when children were generally relegated to a sphere of family religion and away from
full participation in the church. If children were first admitted to communion during
the second century, it would have been a move against the tide of the times. It seems
more probable that they were admitted to the Lords Table from the beginning (ibid.,
74). Generally scholars are in agreement that the evidence for childrens participation in
communion during the earliest Christian centuries is more implied than evident. One of
the strongest evidences for the widespread acceptance of paedocommunion (i.e., infant
communion) in the early centuries comes from Cyprian (d. ca. 258), who reports an
incident where a child refused the cup: When, however, the solemnities were finished,
and the deacon began to offer the cup to those present, and when, as the rest received
it, its turn approached, the little child . . . turned away its face, compressed its mouth
with resisting lips, and refused the cup. Still the deacon persisting, and, although against
her efforts, forced on her some of the sacrament of the cup (The Treatise on the Lapsed
25 [ANF 5:444]). For more evidence supporting the claim of paedocommunion in the
early Christian centuries, see Blake Purcell, The Testimony of the Ancient Church,
in The Case for Covenant Communion, ed. Gregg Strawbridge (Monroe, LA: Athanasius,
2006), 132-145; and O. M. Bakke, When Children Became People: The Birth of Childhood in
Early Christianity (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2005), 246-251.
24
Estep, 65-67.
25
In the early Patristic writings, one finds statements such as: Be simple and
guileless, and you will be as the children who know not the wickedness that ruins the
life of men (Herm. Mand. 2.1 [ANF 2:20]). They are as infant children, in whose
hearts no evil originates; nor did they know what wickedness is. . . . Such accordingly,
without doubt, dwell in the kingdom of God, because they defiled in nothing the
commandments of God (Herm. Sim. 9.29 [ANF 2:53]); Since, therefore, having
renewed us by the remission of our sins, He hath made us after another pattern, that
we should possess the soul of children (Barn. 6.11 [ANF 1:140]). Other Apostolic
Fathers expressed similar sentiments. Aristides, e.g., wrote that on the death of a
child God was to be thanked, as for one who has passed through the world without
sins (Apology 15 [ANF 9:278]); Athenagoras argued that for if only a just judgment
were the cause of the resurrection, it would of course follow that those who had
done neither evil nor goodnamely, very young childrenwould not rise again
(Res. 14 [ANF 2:156]); Irenaeus (d. ca. 202) spoke of children as examples of piety,
righteousness, and submission (Haer. 2.22.4 [ANF 1:391]); he also used the garden
imagery of creation to describe the innocence and simplicity of children (Epid. 14,
trans. J. Armitage Robinson [Aldershot, UK: Ashgate, 2002], 5); similarly, Clement
of Alexandria (ca. 150-215), and his pupil Origen (ca. 185-254) emphasized the
innocence of children. Clement spoke of children as young lambs and birds, whose
inner harmlessness and innocence and placable nature . . . are acceptable to God
220
the third century, within the context of debate over infant baptism, that the
notion of childrens sinfulness was introduced.
The first unambiguous reference to infant baptism appeared in the third
century in writings ascribed to Hippolytus (d. ca. 235).26 It appears that, at the
time, the practice was still divisive and subject to debate. Tertullian (ca. 150220), for example, argued for a delay of baptism. Why does the innocent
period of life hasten to the remission of sins? he asked. Children, he believed,
should know what they are asking for as far as salvation is concerned.27 In
contrast, Cyprian (d. ca. 258) was supportive of infant baptism, arguing that
although children were not guilty of their own sins, they were born after
the flesh according to Adam, and thus in need of remission for the sins of
another.28 Cyprians views constitute the foundation upon which Augustine,
one of the most important early church fathers, developed his views on infants
and original sin, which became a watershed for the Christian understanding
of the nature of children.29
Augustines (354-430) unique thoughts on the nature of children
developed during the period of his disputations with Pelagius.30 Prior to his
involvement with this debate, Augustine appeared to affirm the innocence
of children. In his treatise, On the Freedom of the Will, for example, and with
reference to the children slain by Herod, he suggested that, even though
they had died unbaptized, these children were to be considered martyrs for
whom God had some good compensation.31 Later in his life, however, after
(Paed. 1.5 [ANF 2:212]), while Origen devoted several sections of his Comm. Matt.
(13.16 [ANF 9:484-486]) to extol the virtues of children who have not tasted sensual
pleasures, and [have] no conception of the impulses of manhood.
26
And they shall baptise the little children first. And if they can answer for
themselves, let them answer. But if they cannot, let their parents answer or someone
from their family (Trad. ap. 21.3, ed. Gregory Dix [London: SPCK, 1968], 33). See
also NCE (2003), s.v. Baptism of Infants. For a discussion of whether Hipplytus
authored this text, see Paul F. Bradshaw, The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship
(New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), 89-92.
27
Let them know how to ask for salvation, that you may seem (at least) to have
given to him that asketh (Tertullian, Bapt. 18 [ANF 3:678]).
28
Cyprian, Ep. 58.5 (ANF 5:353-354).
29
Alister E. McGrath, Christian Theology (Oxford: Blackwell, 2007), 18-19.
30
Pelagius, a British monk, was a teacher in Rome around the time of Augustine.
In essence, his teaching revolved around the theme of absolute freedom of human
beings who are endowed with the ability to initiate the process of salvation by their own
efforts without the need for Gods unmerited grace (ODCC [1997], s.v. Pelagianism).
For a comprehensive overview of Augustines position on the nature of children,
see Martha Ellen Stortz, Where or When Was Your Servant Innocent? Augustine
on Childhood, in The Child in Christian Thought, ed. Marcia J. Bunge (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2001), 78-102; and Bakke, 97-104.
31
Augustine, Free Will 3.23.67-69, in S. Aurelii Augustine, De libero arbitrio,
trans. Carroll Mason Sparrow (Richmond, VA: Dietz, 1947), 141-142.
221
reflecting on his own infancy and in response to the Pelagian controversy,

Augustine firmly rejected any form of innate innocence of newborn human
beings. Against Pelagiuss argument that infants were born in the same state
as Adam before the fall, thus possessing perfect free will, and that sin was the
result of forming a habit of sinning as a result of evil examples of sinning
individuals such as parents,32 Augustine argued that the sin of Adam was the
sin of the whole human race.33 As a result, he asserted, although they lacked
the physical ability to do harm, infants were sinful from birth. They not only
inherited and exhibited sinful tendencies, but as a further consequence of
Adams transgression they carried personal moral guilt for Adams transgression
(or original sin) and could not be considered innocent.34 Baptism was then
needed to remove the guilt of sin and to cement the infants status as being a
part of the family of God, i.e., the church.35 Thus Augustines understanding
of children and childhood as reflected in his Confessions was much less positive
than that of his patristic predecessors.36
The Medieval Church
Augustines teachings on original sin, its influence upon childrens nature,
and the importance of infant baptism formed and informed, transformed
and deformed attitudes toward children within the Christian tradition.37 By
the fifth century, infant baptism was well established; and by the eleventh
century, the Medieval church, preying on parental fears of their childrens
eternal damnation, had introduced baptismal regulations, including penance
and monetary fines for infractions.38 It was also during the Medieval era that
the church came to question childrens participation in the Lords Supper.
Although the liturgical guidelines from the eleventh and twelfth centuries
allowed for the administration of the eucharistic elements to newly baptized
infants, this practice was beginning to die out by the late Middle Ages. This
coincided with the development of the doctrine of transubstantiation, a belief
that, following the priestly blessing, the elements were substantially, but not
J. L. Neve, A History of Christian Thought (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1946), 141.

Ibid., 141.
34
Augustine, Conf. 1.7, trans. Vernon J. Bourke (New York: Fathers of the Church,
1953), 12.
35
Roger Olson, The Story of Christian Theology (Downers Grove: InterVarsity
Academic, 1999), 270-274. For a deeper study of Augustines response to Pelagianism,
see Augustine, Four Anti-Pelagian Writings: On Nature and Grace, On the Proceedings of
Pelagius, On the Predestination of the Saints, On the Gift of Perseverance, trans. John A
Mourant and William J. Collinge (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America
Press, 1992).
36
See Augustine, Conf. 1.1-20, in Bourke, 3-32.
37
Stortz, 79.
38
Nicholas Orme, Medieval Children (London: Yale University Press, 2001), 23-24.
32
33
222
accidentally, transformed into the real blood and body of Christ.39 Because of
this, church leaders became convinced that the elements, i.e., the bread and
wine, should be treated with greater reverence, and guarded against being
spit or regurgitated. Children came to be seen as too young to understand
and believe in the real presence, both necessary for receiv[ing] communion
rightly.40
The Medieval church also saw an attempt at a more middle-of-the-road
position on the doctrine of original sin. Thomas Aquinas (ca. 1224-1274), a
Medieval theologian, endeavored to reconcile the Augustinian doctrine of
original sin with a more optimistic, Aristotelian vision of children, which
tended to view children as essentially innocent, but immature.41 Although
Aquinas accepted the official Augustinian position of the fundamental
sinfulness of children, he viewed children as having potential for spiritual
growth, with the aid of grace.42 The greatest challenge to Aquinass thinking
was the apparent contradiction between his acceptance of an Augustinian
understanding of original sin as an impediment to salvation43 and his
Aristotelian belief in the actual innocence of unbaptized children.44 In his
solution to this theological quandary, Aquinas proposed the existence of
limbus infantium, or childrens limbo,45 a state between heaven and hell where
unbaptized children were consigned.46 As bearers of original sin, Aquinas
39
Catechism of the Catholic Church (Liguori, MO: Liguori Publications, 1994), 336337. The term transubstantiation, or change of substance, was used for the first
time during the Lateran Council (1215) and developed under the influence of the
newly discovered Aristotelian writings, in which Aristotle distinguished between
the substance and the accidents of all things. It became accepted that during the
eucharistic sacrifice the visible accidents such as taste, color, and texture remained
unchanged, while the underlying invisible substance became the real body and blood
of Christ (John Strynkowski, Transubstantiation, in The HarperCollins Encyclopedia of
Catholicism, ed. Richard P. McBrien [New York: HarperCollins, 1995], 1264).
Orme, 214.
Christina L. H. Traina, A Person in the Making: Thomas Aquinas on Children
and Childhood, in The Child in Christian Thought, ed. Marcia J. Bunge (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2001), 106; cf. Joseph James Chambliss, Educational Theory as Theory of
Conduct: From Aristotle to Dewey(Albany: State University of New York Press, 1987),
34-35; and A. Scott Loveless and Thomas Holman, The Family in the New Millennium:
Strengthening the Family (Santa Barbara: Praeger, 2006), 6-9.
42
Traina, 106.
43
Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica III, Q68. Art. 2, trans. Fathers of the
English Dominican Province (Allen, TX: Christian Classics, 1981), 4:2393-2394; cf.
idem, Appendix 1, Q1, Art.2 (5:3002).
44
Eileen Sweeney, Vice and Sin, in The Ethics of Aquinas, ed. Stephen J. Pope
(Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 2002), 158-159.
45
Christopher Beiting, Limbo in Thomas Aquinas, Thomist 62 (1998): 238-239.
46
Aquinas, Summa Theologica Suppl. Q69, Art. 6 (5:2822-2823); cf. Shulamith
Shahar, Childhood in the Middle Ages (London: Routledge, 1990), 45.
40
41
223
asserted, the souls of unbaptized children know that they do not deserve
heaven, thus they do not grieve through being deprived of what is beyond
[their] power to obtain,47 but rather, enjoy full natural happiness.48
While Medieval theologians wrote little on the nature of children
and childhood, and generally upheld the Augustinian doctrine of original
sin and the need for infant baptism, Medieval Catholicism was influenced
by Aristotelian philosophy, and thus tended to present a milder picture of
children, and humanity in general, than that of Augustine. The Reformation
of the sixteenth century, on the other hand, rejected Aristotelian influences
upon Christian theology and attempted a return to an Augustinian vision of
childhood.49
The Reformation
In many ways, the Protestant Reformers views on children and childhood
were congruent with that of their predecessors. Martin Luther (14831546), for example, was an Augustinian monk who held deeply pessimistic
anthropological views. Like Augustine, he believed that infants entered the
world not merely inclined to evil, but as fallen sinners, evil from birth and
infected with irreversible egoism, which he saw as the all-pervading
symptom of human perversion.50 Thus he vehemently defended the
practice of infant baptism on the grounds that children come into the world
infected with original sin and need the grace of this sacrament as urgently as
do other human beings.51 Gerald Strauss, however, notes that while such a
pessimistic anthropology satisfied the claims of theology, in practice Luther
viewed children as tractable, open to suggestion and receptive to mollifying
influence.52 In their early years, he believed, children were relatively innocent,
only to be spoiled in later years. For this reason, children needed firm parental
guidance in order to implant religious and moral impulses.53 It is in this
area of parent-child relations that Luther contributed a unique perspective on
children and childhood.54 At a time when the church viewed the vocation of
Aquinas Summa Theologica, Appendix 1, Q1, Art. 2 (5:3004).
ODCC, s.v. Limbo. Cf. Beiting, 238. In recent centuries, Aquinass doctrine of
limbo created much theological difficulty for Roman Catholic theologians. See George
J. Dyer, Limbo: A Theological Evaluation, Theological Studies 19 (1958): 32-49.
49
Gerald Strauss, Luthers House of Learning: Indoctrination of the Young in the German
Reformation (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1978), 33-34.
50
Strauss, 33.
51
For a detailed study of Luthers view on the sacrament of baptism and the
reasons why Luther saw baptism as an essential part of the Christian life, see Jonathan
D. Trigg, Baptism in the Theology of Martin Luther(New York: Brill, 1994).
52
Strauss, 34, attributes this to the fact that eventually the monk Luther became
a kind and loving father.
53
Ibid., 35.
54
Jane E. Strohl, The Child in Luthers Theology: For What Purpose Do We Older
47
48
224
priests and monks as a religiously superior or more spiritual occupation than

any other, Luther insisted on the priesthood of all believers.55 This, according
to William Lazareth, conditioned him to see the vocation of parents, or any
other vocation of the common life, as an equally significant exercise of that
priesthood.56 Therefore, Luther devotes much time delineating the duties
of parents toward their children. Providing children with care and nurture,
he believed, was central to Christian discipleship, for when parents fulfilled
their duties to their children, they were serving as their apostle and bishop.
There is no greater or nobler authority on earth than that of parents over
their children, for this authority is both spiritual and temporal.57 Indeed, he
concluded, for what purpose do we older folks exist, other than to care for,
instruct, and bring up the young?58
In the same vein as Luther, John Calvin (1509-1564) also espoused a
deeply pessimistic anthropology, spawned by the Augustinian concept of
original sin. In fact, his position on the nature of children is often seen as even
more pessimistic than that of any of his predecessors or contemporaries,
ultimately leading to his doctrine of total depravity.59 Regarding children,
he wrote, For that reason, even infants themselves, while they carry their
condemnation along with them from the mothers womb, are guilty not of
anothers fault but of their own. For, even though the fruits of their inquiry
have not yet come forth, they have the seed enclosed within them. Indeed,
their whole nature is a seed of sin; hence it can be only hateful and abhorrent
to God.60 While Calvin occasionally spoke positively of children,61 more
Folks Exist, Other Than to Care for . . . the Young? in The Child in Christian Thought,
ed. Marcia J. Bunge (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 134-141; cf. Apology of the
Augsburg Confession, in The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran
Church, trans. and ed. Theodore G. Tappert, (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1959), 103.
55
Martin Luther, The Freedom of a Christian, in Martin Luthers Basic Theological
Writings, ed. Timothy Lull (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2005), 399; cf. Alister E. McGrath,
Christianitys Dangerous Idea (New York: HarperCollins, 2007), 52-53; Jaroslav Pelikan,
Reformation of Church and Dogma (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984), 272273.
William H. Lazareth, Luther on the Christian Home: An Application of the Social
Ethics of the Reformation (Philadelphia: Muhlenberg Press, 1960), 132-133.
57
Martin Luther, The Estate of Marriage, in Luthers Works, ed. Walter I. Brandt
and Helmut Lehmann (Philadelphia: Muhlenberg Press, 1962), 45:46.
58
Martin Luther, To the Councilmen of All Cities in Germany, in Martin Luthers
Basic Theological Writings, ed. Timothy Lull (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2005), 464.
59
Barbara Pitkin, The Heritage of the Lord: Children in the Theology of Calvin,
in The Child in Christian Thought, ed. Marcia J. Bunge (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001),
167.
60
John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill, trans. and
indexed Ford Lewis Battles (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1973), 1:251.
61
In book 1 of the Institutes, e.g., we find this statement: Out of the mouths of
babes and sucklings thou hast established strength. Indeed, he not only declares that a
56
225
frequently he portrayed God as wondrously angry toward them; not because

he [was] disposed of himself to hate them, but because he would frighten
them by the feeling of his wrath in order to humble their fleshly pride,
shake off their sluggishness, and arouse them to repentance.62 As Jerome
Berryman notes, however, despite his pessimistic understanding of the nature
of children, Calvin tended not to dwell on the sinfulness of children and was
deeply concerned with their upbringing and education.63 Unfortunately, those
who followed Calvin tended to take his teachings to the extreme, portraying
an angry God to children, and instilling fear, rather than love, of God.64
The first serious challenge to the doctrine of original sin did not occur,
primarily, within a discussion of the nature of children, but instead transpired
within the debate over baptism. The Anabaptists, the step-children of
the Protestant Reformation,65 agreed with much of the teachings of other
Reformers; however, many of them believed that the magisterial Reformers
had only gone halfway in implementing true reformation of the church and
returning to NT Christianity.66 One issue that became of central importance
to the Anabaptists was baptism, which, they believed, should be voluntary
and based on an understanding of the gospel of Jesus Christ.67 Menno
Simons (1492-1559), a former Catholic priest and a prominent Anabaptist
leader, asserted that since infants and young children have no faith by which
they can realize that God is, and that He is a rewarder of both good and evil,
as they plainly show by their fruits, therefore they have not the fear of God,
clear mirror of Gods works is in humankind, but that infants, while they nurse at their
mothers breasts, have tongues so eloquent to preach his glory that there is no need at
all of other orators (Institutes 1.5.3 [McNeill and Battles, 55]).
62
Calvin, Institutes 3.2.12 (McNeill and Battles, 557); cf. Jerome W. Berryman, Children
and the Theologians: Clearing the Way for Grace (New York: Morehouse, 2009), 101.
63
Berryman, 102; Pitkin, 165.
64
Philip Greven, Spare the Child (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1991), 136; cf.
Berryman, 101. Also see Jonathan Edwardss sermon, Sinners in the Hands of an
Angry God, in Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God and Eleven More Classic Messages
(Orlando: Bridge-Logos, 2003), 37-56.
65
For a detailed study of Anabaptism, see Leonard Verduin, The Reformers and
Their Stepchildren (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964).
66
Olson, 415; Verduin, 11-20.
67
Williston Walker notes that the Anabaptists opposition to infant baptism
stemmed from the larger issue of their opposition to the use of force in matters
of faith and their abandonment of the age-old requirement of religious uniformity
(A History of the Christian Church [New York: Charles Scribners Sons, 1970], 327); cf.
Menno Simons, Christian Baptism, in The Complete Writings of Menno Simons, trans.
Leonard Verduin, ed. J. C. Wenger (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1956), 257; Keith
Graber Miller, Complex Innocence, Obligatory Nurturance, and Parental Vigilance:
The Child in the Work of Menno Simons, in The Child in Christian Thought, ed. Marcia
J. Bunge (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 195.
226
and consequently they have nothing upon which they should be baptized.68
Baptizing infants, he asserted, gave parents a false sense of security about
their childrens salvation, resulting in the possibility of children being raised
without the fear of God, and thus living without faith and new birth,
without Spirit, Word and Christ.69
Instead of baptizing infants, who cannot be taught, admonished, or
instructed, Simons exhorted Christian parents to nurture their childrens
faith until they had reached the years of discretion,70 when they could make
the decision to be baptized. He thus states:
Little ones must wait according to Gods Word until they can understand the
holy Gospel of grace and sincerely confess it; and then, and then only it is
time, no matter how young or old, for them to receive Christian baptism as the
infallible Word of our beloved Lord Jesus Christ has taught and commanded
all true believers in His holy Gospel. . . . If they die before coming to years
of discretion, that is, in childhood, before they have come to years of
understanding and before they have faith, then they die under the promise of
God, and that by no other means than the generous promise of grace given
through Christ Jesus. And if they come to years of discretion and have faith,
then they should be baptized. But if they do not accept or believe the Word
when they shall have arrived at the years of discretion, no matter whether they
are baptized or not, they will be damned, as Christ Himself teaches.71
Implicit in Simonss rejection of infant baptism was his understanding of

the nature of children. Although Simons acknowledges that children have an
innate tendency to sin, inherited at birth by all descendants and children of
corrupt, sinful Adam, a tendency that is not inaptly called original sin,72 he
appears to differentiate between a nature predisposed toward sin and actual
sinning, disallowing the former to obliterate childhood innocence.73 Thus,
according to Simons, although children inherit original sin, they are innocent
as long as they live in their innocence, and through the merits, death, and
blood of Christ, in grace, they are partakers of the promise.74 Children
who die before coming to the years of discretion, declares Simons, die
under the promise of God.75
Simons, 240.
Menno Simons, Reply to False Accusations, in The Complete Writings of Menno
Simons, trans. Leonard Verduin, ed. J. C. Wenger (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1956),
570.
68
69
Simons, Christian Baptism, 241.

Ibid.
72
Simons, Reply to False Accusations, 563.
73
Miller, 201, emphasis original.
74
Menno Simons, Reply to Gellius, in The Complete Writings of Menno Simons,
trans. Leonard Verduin, ed. J. C. Wenger (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1956), 708.
75
Simons, Christian Baptism, 241. Furthermore, Simons suggests that children
of both believing and unbelieving parents remain innocent through the grace of
Christ (ibid., 280; idem, Reply to Gellius, 707).
70
71
227
The concept of an age of discretion presented the Anabaptists with a

theological conundrum; namely, if children were born with a sinful nature,
but were innocent of Adams sin, at what age did they become accountable
for the actual sin in their lives?76 Early Anabaptist leaders, including Hans
Hut (ca. 1490-1527), Ambrosius Spittelmaier (ca. 1497-1528), and Hans
Schlaffer (d. 1528), suggested that adults aged thirty and over qualified for
believers baptism, basing their view on a desire to imitate Jesus, who
was baptized at age thirty.77 At the other end of the spectrum, Balthasar
Hubmaier (ca. 1480-1528) suggested that a minimum age for baptism was
seven, which was the age at which the will of the child was thought to
develop.78 In contrast, Simons did not identify an exact age of discretion,
suggesting only that as they grew, children increasingly demonstrated the
evil seed of Adam.79 Furthermore, he asserted, no matter how young or
how old a child,80 it was spiritual maturity rather than age that determined
accountability and readiness for baptism.81 Until that time, the grace of
Christ covered the sinful nature of children.
The Anabaptist perspective, which affirmed the sinful nature of
children and the need for Gods grace for salvation, while moving away
from an Augustinian concept of original sin, impacted only a minority of
Christian traditions.82 The Lutheran and Reformed traditions continued to
embrace the traditional concept of original sin. One significant exception
was Jacobus Arminius, a Dutch Reformed theologian, who took exception
to the view that the guilt of Adams sin was imputed to infants. Because
of the atoning work of Christ, infants were innocent, and if they died in
infancy, their salvation was secure.83 Other Reformers, particularly those
influenced by Calvinism, vehemently opposed Arminiuss views; however,
his thinking ultimately influenced the beliefs of John Wesley (1703-1791)
and the Methodist movement.
Holly Catterton Allen, Theological Perspectives on Children in the Church:

Anabaptist/Believers Church, in Nurturing Childrens Spirituality, ed. Holly Catterton
Allen (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2008), 118.
77
Miller, 206; cf. Allen, 119.
78
Miller, 206.
79
Simons, Christian Baptism, 240.
80
Ibid., 241.
81
Miller, 206.
82
Today the Amish, some Baptists, Brethren, Hutterites, Mennonites, Bruderhof
Communities, and Quakers are considered successors of the Continental Anabaptists.
See Allen, 115.
83
Jacobus Arminius, Apology or Defence, 13-14, in The Works of James Arminius,
trans. and ed. James Nichols (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1996), 10-14; cf. Mark A. Ellis,
Simon Episcopius Doctrine of Original Sin (New York: Peter Lang, 2006), 77-79.
76
228
The Early Modern Era

Wesleys views on the nature of children, which some scholars consider eclectic,
are neither fully consistent nor complete.84 Most commentators agree
that Wesley accepted the notion of original sin,85 which he seemed to have
understood as an inherited corruption of nature that affects all mankind,
and requires even infants [to be] born again.86 Wesley saw this corruption as
so pervasive that even the holiest parents beg[a]t unholy children, and [could]
not communicate their grace to them as they [did] their nature.87 Even though
every child inherited original sin, Wesley asserted, Gods grace was also at work
from the beginning of life. God extended this grace, which Wesley termed
preventing grace to every human being, without waiting for the call of
man.88 It was because of Gods preventing (or prevenient) grace that all human
beings had the ability to respond to God.89 Although Wesleys understanding
of the nature of children has been interpreted in many ways,90 it appears that
he held a belief in original sin in dynamic tension with a conviction that
Gods grace was at work in the life of a child.91 This same tension is inherent
in Wesleys views on baptism and conversion.92 Although scholars disagree on
84
See Susan Etheridge Willhauck, John Wesleys View of Children: Foundations
for Contemporary Christian Education (Ph.D. dissertation, Catholic University of
America, 1992), 123. The incompleteness is perhaps because Wesley himself married
late and had no children of his own. See Richard P. Heitzenrater, John Wesley
and Children, in The Child in Christian Thought, ed. Marcia J. Bunge (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2001), 298, 286.
85
Willhauck, 123.
86
John Wesley, The Doctrine of Original Sin according to Scripture, Reason and Experience
in Answer to Dr. Taylor (New York: Methodist Episcopal Church in the United States,
1817), 340-341.
87
Ibid., 340.
88
John Wesley, On Working Out Our Own Salvation in The Works of John
Wesley, ed. Albert C. Outler (Nashville: Abingdon, 1986), 3:207. Roger Olson defines
prevenient grace as follows: it is simply the convicting, calling, enlightening and
enabling grace of God that goes before conversion and makes repentance and
faith possible (Arminian Theology: Myths and Realities [Downers Grove: InterVarsity
Academic, 2006], 35).
89
Michael J. Scanlon, The Christian Anthropology of John Wesley (Th.D.
dissertation, Catholic University of America, 1969), 100-101; cf. Wesley, On Working
Out Our Own Salvation, 207-209.
90
For a detailed examination of Wesleys Christian anthropology, as well as an
overview of the many ways it has been interpreted by commentators, see Willhauck,
102-173.
91
Catherine Stonehouse, Children in Wesleyan Thought, in Childrens Spirituality:
Christian Perspectives, Research and Application, ed. Donald Ratcliffe (Eugene, OR: Cascade,
2004), 140.
92
Ibid.
229
his understanding of infant baptism,93 Wesley himself affirmed and practiced

the baptizing of infants. He did not, however, view baptism as necessary for
salvation.94 Rather, his position was that baptism was the initiatory sacrament
which enters us into covenant with God;95 but being part of the covenant did
not automatically secure salvation. Each individual still needed to experience
conversion or new birth through justifying faith,96 which, according to Wesley,
was possible even in early childhood,97 thus making it imperative that childrens
faith be carefully nurtured.98
American revivalist preachers, including Calvinist Jonathan Edwards
(1703-1758)99 and Arminian Charles G. Finney (1792-1875),100 underscored this
theme of childhood conversion. In contrast with Wesley, however, revivalists
appeals were often accompanied by threats of hellfire and expectations for
both children and adults to experience emotional conversions.101 Fearing for
the salvation of their children, parents regularly took their children to such
meetings, that they might be converted.102
Horace Bushnell (1802-1876), a prominent Congregational pastor
who came to be considered the quintessential American theologian of
93
For an overview of the debate over infant baptism among Wesleyan scholars,
see Willhauck, 134-136.
94
Ibid., 164.
95
John Wesley, On Baptism, in The Works of John Wesley, ed. Albert C. Outler
(New York: Oxford University Press, 1964), 319.
96
For Wesley, infant baptism was clearly equivalent to the Jewish rite of
circumcision, which required both a converted heart and an inward circumcision
for salvation (On Baptism, 322-323). For a detailed discussion of Wesleys views on
infant baptism and conversion, see Willhauck, 125-173.
97
In his journal, Wesley provides an account of a three-year-old child, who went
through a conversion just prior to his death (Journal 6, in The Works of John Wesley,
ed. W. Reginald Ward and Richard P. Heitzenrater [Nashville: Abingdon, 1991], 20:123;
cf. Heitzenrater, 295).
98
Willhauck, 168, 238. For details of Wesleys views regarding the nurture of
children, see ibid., 174-242. Cf. Heitzenrater, 285-299.
99
For an overview of Edwardss theology of children, see Catherine A. Brekus,
Children of Wrath, Children of Grace: Jonathan Edwards and the Puritan Culture
of Child Rearing in The Child in Christian Thought, ed. Marcia J. Bunge (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2001).
100
May, Posteroski, Stonehouse, and Cannell, 104.
101
Ibid, 104-105.
102
William Fee, Bringing in the Sheaves (Cincinnati: Cranston & Curts, 1896), 32,
cited in A. Gregory Schneider, The Way of the Cross Leads Home: The Domestication
of American Methodism (Bloomington: Indiana University Press), 74; cf., Margaret
Bendroth, Horace Bushnells Christian Nurture, in The Child in Christian Thought, ed.
Marcia J. Bunge (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 353.
230
childhood,103 reacted against the revivalist emphasis on emotional experience

as the mark of true conversion, claiming, in Margaret Bendroths words,
that this requirement spiritually disenfranchised children from the start.104
Instead of urging children to undergo emotional conversion experiences,
Bushnell envisioned that children could be gradually guided toward faith by
their parents.105 In his classic text, Christian Nurture (first published in 1847),
Bushnell suggested: the child is to grow up a Christian, and never know himself
as being otherwise.106 This was a very simple statement, notes Theodore
Thomton Munger, but it shook New England theology to its foundations.
The phrase, by its very form, challenged the extreme individualism into which
the churches had lapsed, and recalled them to those organic relations between
parents and children.107 Although Bushnell assumed that the individual
experience of conversion might eventually occur in the childs life,108 he did
not see that this needed to be a sudden, cataclysmic event; rather, he saw
conversion as a gradual awakening of the soul to God under the influence
of godly parents.109 Instead of indoctrinating their children in respect to their
need of a new heart and turning all their little misdoings and bad tempers
into evidences of their need of regeneration,110 parents should rather seek to
teach a feeling than a doctrine; to bathe the child in their own feeling of love to
God, and dependence on him, and contrition for wrong before him.111
Ibid., 352; cf. Sydney E. Ahlstrom, Theology in America: The Major Protestant Voices
from Puritanism to Neo-Orthodoxy (Indianapolis: Hackett, 2003), 317.
104
Bendroth, 352.
105
Much of Bushnells classic, Christian Nurture, is devoted to a call for nurturing
childrens faith in a very different way from the one traditionally assumed within his
contemporary Protestant circles ([New Haven: Yale University Press, 1888], see esp.
What Christian Nurture Is, 1-51).
103
Ibid., 4; cf. Berryman, 151. Bushnells attitude toward children may have been
spawned by his enjoyment of his own children. In her Life and Letters of Horace Bushnell,
one of Bushnells daughters, Mary Bushnell Cheney, recounts a happy childhood, due
in part to her fathers personality. She wrote: First among my recollections of my
father are the daily, after-dinner romps, not lasting long, but most vigorous and hearty
at the moment. Her fathers frolics became part of her memory of a rich and
stimulating childhood, in which life was made a paradise of nature, the recollection
of which behind us might image to us the paradise of grace before us ([New York:
Charles Scribners Sons, 1903], 452-453).
106
Theodore T. Munger, Horace Bushnell: Preacher and Theologian (New York:

Houghton, Mifflin and Co., 1899), 67.
108
Luther A. Weigle, Introduction, in Christian Nurture, Horace Bushnell (New
Haven: Yale University Press, 1888), 35; cf. Bushnell, 9-10, 15-16, 62.
109
Bendroth, 353.
110
Bushnell, 59-60.
111
Ibid, 39.
107
231
Not surprisingly, Bushnells opponents viewed his scaled-down

understanding of conversion and faith formation as overly optimistic. Some
suggested that he had essentially discarded the notion that children were born
with a sinful nature, thus encouraging children to underestimate their need for
regeneration and to believe in the delusion of their own righteousness.112
Although scholars struggle to pinpoint Bushnells views on human nature
and original sin,113 it appears that he did not deny that sin was a universal
human problem;114 however, he saw the transmission of sin as the result of
intergenerational interactions. He thus wrote: The sin of no person can be
transmitted as a sin, or charged to the account of another. But it does not
therefore follow, that there are no moral connections between individuals, by
which one becomes a corrupter of others.115 Indeed, according to Bendroth,
he viewed salvation as a thoroughly intergenerational process, taught and
transmitted through family interactions.116 His faith in the influence of the home
environment, particularly the near salvific power of a godly mother,117 led
him to believe that careful Christian nurture would most certainly lead children
to become faithful Christians.118 Although Bushnells views on Christian nurture
developed in reaction to revivalism and to the individualism of the Victorian
era, the broader context of his work was a society influenced by Jean-Jacques
Rousseaus views on the innate goodness of children.119 Thus despite opposition
from his more theologically conservative critics, Bushnells views soon came to
dominate Protestant conceptions of children and childhood.120
The Contemporary Period
Despite the weaknesses of Bushnells views, particularly his belief that
good Christian nurture always produced good children and thus could solve
Bendroth, 360.
See William R. Adamson, Bushnell Rediscovered (Philadelphia: United Church
Press, 1966), 90-95; Barbara Cross, Horace Bushnell: Minister to Changing America (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1958), 126-130; H. Shelton Smith, Changing Conceptions of
Original Sin (New York: Charles Scribners Sons, 1955), 144-163; Berryman, 153.
114
Weigle, 35. For a detailed exposition of Bushnells doctrine of sin, see also
Smith, 144-163.
112
113
Bushnell, 101-102.
Bendroth, 362.
117
Ibid., 358; cf. Bushnell, 44-45 and 248, who writes that the mother gives
them [the children] a great mark of honor, and sets them in a way of great hope and
preferment, as regards all highest character.
115
116
Brekus, 325; cf. Bushnell, 211-215.

Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778) was a French philosopher and writer.
His novel mile became a groundbreaking work on childrens education during the
Enlightenment era. For a careful study of Rousseaus views regarding human nature,
see James Delaney, Rousseau and the Ethics of Virtue (New York: Continuum, 2006).
120
Bendroth, 350.
118
119
232
the problems of humanity,121 the contemporary view that the family plays
a critical role in faith formation of children owes much to Bushnell.122 His
work provided the impetus for the religious-education movement of the
twentieth century, which incorporated the principles of child growth and
development emerging from psychological research and contributed to a
growing understanding of childrens spiritual formation.123
While the twentieth century was marked by burgeoning interest in the
education and Christian formation of children,124 the twenty-first century
has seen an escalation of interest in the theology of children and childhood.
Marcia Bunge, a theologian at Valparaiso University, Indiana, and editor of
two seminal works, The Child in Christian Thought and The Child in the Bible, has
been instrumental in the rediscovery of this area of theology. Reflecting on
the narrow and even destructive ways in which Christian theologians have
depicted children and childhood through history, she challenges contemporary
Christian thinkers to retriev[e] a broader, richer, and more complex picture of
children.125 She suggests that the Scriptures and Christian tradition offer six
seemingly paradoxical ways of speaking about the nature of children, which,
when held in tension, can provide a richer understanding of children and adult
responsibilities to them.126 While children are gifts of God and sources of joy,
they are also sinful creatures and moral agents, and are born into a brokenness
that makes them less than what God intended for them to be. Children are also
developing beings who need instruction and guidance; however, this must be
held in tension with the biblical teaching that they are fully human and made
in the image of God. In addition, Jesus taught that children are models of
faith and sources of inspiration; yet, simultaneously, they are also orphans,
neighbors, and strangers in need of justice and compassion.127 Unless the
121
See Smith, 144-149, for an account of various theologians who responded
critically to Bushnell.
122
Marcia Bunge, Introduction, in The Child in Christian Thought, ed. Marcia
Bunge (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 22.
123
Many contemporary educators consider Bushnell to be the undisputed Father
of Modern Christian Education in America. See E. A. Daniel and J. W. Wade, eds.,
Foundation for Christian Education (Joplin, MO: College Press, 1999), 55; cf. Michael J.
Anthony and Warren Benson, Exploring the History and Philosophy of Christian Education:
Principles for the 21st Century (Grand Rapids: Kregel, 2003), 326.
124
For a concise overview of twentieth-century developments in religious
education, see Maria Harris and Gabriel Moran, Reshaping Religious Education:
Conversations on Contemporary Practice (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1998).
125
Marcia Bunge, Historical Perspectives on Children in the Church, in Childrens
Spirituality: Christian Perspectives, Research and Applications, ed. Donald Ratcliffe (Eugene,
OR: Cascade, 2004), 44.
126
Ibid.
127
Ibid, 45-50.
233
paradoxes of all six perspectives are held in tension, suggests Bunge, we risk
treating [children] in inadequate and harmful ways.128
Thus perspectives on children have undergone dramatic changes in
the past two millennia of Christian tradition. In the earliest decades of the
Christian church, perspectives on children were predominantly positive, and
the innocence of children was emphasized. Further, at a time when children
lived on the margins of society, the evidence suggests that the Christian
church welcomed children as equal members of the faith community. With
the doctrine of original sin, however, came an emphasis on the sinfulness and
moral responsibility of children, resulting in both inadequate and destructive
ways of thinking about children. An attempt to reject the perspective that
sees children as sinful, however, gave rise to two distinct challenges: (1) the
theological challenge of an age of accountability; and (2) a more naturalistic
view that a child can grow into faith through adequate Christian nurture,
negating the need for an encounter with the living Christ. In contrast, the
contemporary perspective on children primarily as gifts of God and models
of faith can result in a neglect of their moral and spiritual formation.129
Christian history gives evidence to the inadequacy of a narrow view of
children, and to the need for the broad and complex perspective, such as
suggested by Bunge.130
Toward a Seventh-day Adventist Perspective on Children
The Seventh-day Adventist Church has a rich history of ministry to and with
children; however, there has been little theological reflection about the nature
of children and their spiritual formation among Adventist theologians.131
Thus a carefully articulated theology of children and childhood has not always
been the foundation for ministry with children in the Adventist Church. As a
result, Adventist parents and those involved in ministry with children have at
times reached out to non-Adventist sources, without realizing the theological
underpinnings of these sources.132 The premise of this article is that the
practice of ministry with children within an Adventist context should flow
out of an Adventist theology. The remainder of this paper will utilize Bunges
six ways of speaking about the nature of children133 as a framework for
exploring an Adventist perspective on children.
Ibid, 50.
Ibid.
130
Ibid., 44.
131
Despite careful research, we have been unable to locate any significant work
on this topic.
132
Many Adventists have embraced the popular parenting program, Growing
Kids Gods Way, which is based on Calvinist presuppositions, and thus is not always
congruent with an Adventist understanding of parent-child relationships.
133
Bunge, Historical Perspectives on Children in the Church, 44.
128
129
234
Gifts of God and Sources of Joy versus

Sinful Creatures and Moral Agents
From Scripture, it is evident that children are a sign of Gods blessing on
humanity, as well as sources of joy and delight; however, children are also born
into a brokenness that makes them less than what God intended for them to
be. Contemporary understandings of childrens developmental needs might
seem to imply that speaking about childrens sinfulness is more destructive
than helpful. Indeed the historical emphasis on children as sinful and morally
responsible has often warped Christian approaches to children;134 however,
the Scriptures do teach the universality of human sin.135 Thus, as Bunge
suggests, the notion that children are sinful is worth revisiting and critically
retrieving.136
Although Adventists reject a purely Augustinian conception of original
sin, the official teaching of the church affirms that Adams sin resulted in the
condition of estrangement from God in which every human being is born. This
estrangement involves an inherent tendency to commit sin.137 This must, of
necessity, include children. Despite much discussion regarding the nature of
humanity, however, little of the contemporary Adventist debate has pertained
directly to children. Thus Adventism does not have a complete or systematic
theology of the nature of children. Early Adventists had diverse views on the
innocence versus sinfulness of infants. James White, one of the founders of
the Seventh-day Adventist Church, maintained that Adventists had no settled
faith on this point,138 and given that the Scriptures were silent on this topic,
no possible good could come from such discussions.139 Whites counsel did
not, however, deter others from commenting on this subject. Uriah Smith
suggested that the law had no claim on infants; for they never transgressed
it,140 and thus, he believed, infants would be saved even though they [died]
in Adam like the rest of humanity.141 Similarly, G. W. Morse suggested that
children who died prior to reaching the age of accountability would be saved,
134
Marcia J. Bunge, The Dignity and Complexity of Children: Constructing
Christian Theologies of Childhood, in Nurturing Child and Adolescent Spirituality:
Perspectives from the Worlds Religious Traditions, ed. Karen-Marie Yust (Lanham, MD:
Rowman and Littlefield, 2006), 59.
135
See, e.g., Rom 5:12, 19; Gal 5:17; Eph 2:3.
136
137
Seventh-day Adventist Encyclopedia (1966), s.v. Sin; cf. J. M. Fowler, Sin, in
Handbook of Seventh-day Adventist Theology, ed. Raoul Dederen (Hagerstown, MD: Review
and Herald, 2000), 265; A. E. Cairus, The Doctrine of Man, in ibid., 216-217, 226.
138
James White, Questions and Answers, Review and Herald 21/4, 23 December
1862, 29.
139
James White, Matthew 18:1-6, Review and Herald 18/21, 22 October 1861, 164.
140
Uriah Smith, The Resurrection, Review and Herald 62/3, 20 January 1885, 48.
141
Uriah Smith, To Correspondents, Review and Herald 47/17, 17 April 1876,
133.
235
as they had no sins for which they were personally accountable.142 A significant
contribution to the discussion on the nature of children transpired within
the debate about infant baptism. In a similar vein to the Anabaptists of the
sixteenth century, J. H. Waggoner suggested that infants who had committed
no sin did not need baptism for the purpose of washing away original sin and
were saved through the Gospel. 143 He wrote, The death of Christ avails
for them without conditions, because they have committed no sin.144 This
teaching appears to have been affirmed by Ellen White, the wife of James
White and also one of the founders of Adventism, in her words regarding
the resurrection of infants:
As the little infants come forth immortal from their dusty beds, they
immediately wing their way to their mothers arms. They meet again
nevermore to part. But many of the little ones have no mother there. We
listen in vain for the rapturous song of triumph from the mother. The angels
receive the motherless infants and conduct them to the tree of life.145
The Seventh-day Adventist Church has traditionally heeded James Whites

advice, and has adopted no official position on the innocence of infants and
children. However, although, on one hand, Adventists affirm that every
human being is born with an innate tendency to evil, on the other, they reject a
purely Augustinian notion of original sin. This potentially presents Adventists
with two theological challenges. First, if children are considered innocent,
and thus are not baptized as infants, what is their status in the church? Should
they be considered simply as pagans, until they make a positive voluntary
commitment?146 Should unbaptized children be just spectators during worship
services, or should they be taught alongside the adults and occasionally called
on to serve, as was the practice in the early church? Should they partake in
the celebration of the Lords Supper, or should they be excluded on the basis
that that which is holy should not be given to the dogs?147 This lack of
theological clarity regarding the status of unbaptized Adventist children has
G. W. Morse, Scripture Questions, Review and Herald 65/32, 7 August 1888,
142
506.
J. H. Waggoner, Thoughts on Baptism, Review and Herald 51/12, 21 March
1878, 89.
144
J. H. Waggoner, Infantile Logic, Signs of the Times 5/15, 10 April 1879, 116.
145
E. G. White, Selected Messages (Hagerstown: Review and Herald, 1958), 2:260.
146
G. Vandervelde, Believers Church Ecclesiology as Ecumenical Challenge,
in The Believers Church: A Voluntary Church, ed. W. H. Brackney (Kitchener, ONT:
Pandora), 213, cited in Holly Catterton Allen, Theological Perspectives on Children in
the Church: Anabaptist/Believers Church, in Nurturing Childrens Spirituality (Eugene,
OR: Cascade, 2008), 118.
147
The earliest surviving church manual, dating from early in the second century
a.d., says: let no one eat or drink from your eucharist except those baptized in the
name of [the] Lord, for the Lord has likewise said concerning this: Do not give what is
holy to the dogs (Didache 9:5 in The Didache: Text, Translation, Analysis, and Commentary,
trans.and ed. Aaron Milavec [Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2004], 23).
143
236
resulted in their exclusion from participation in the Lords Supper, despite the
assertion that Adventists practice open Communion.148
Second, if children are born with tendencies to evil149 but are innocent
until some later age when they are considered accountable for actual sin,
one is left with the conundrum of discovering what that age is.150 Although
this poses a theological challenge for Adventists, the concept of an age of
accountability does appear to be grounded in the Scriptures, which teach
that Regarding matters of salvation, children are different from adults.151
The apostle Paul recognized this differentiation when he wrote, When I was
a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child;
when I became a man, I put childish ways behind me (1 Cor 13:11). Several
OT passages also make a distinction between children and adults, based on
developmental differences in moral reasoning and discernment. Moses speaks
of children as those who today do not yet know right from wrong (Deut
1:39).152 Similarly, Isaiah speaks of a time in childrens lives when they do not
yet know enough to reject the wrong and choose the right (Isa 7:16).
Early Adventists also referred to a time of . . . personal accountability153
or years of accountability.154 Although they did not identify an exact age,
Ellen White suggested that Children of eight, ten or twelve years were old
enough to be addressed on the subject of personal religion.155 Although it
may not be possible to identify an exact age of accountability for all children, it
is evident that, as they grow, children are increasingly capable of self-centered
actions that are hurtful to others, as well as to themselves. Even Christian
parents often see these actions only within a context of the psychosocial and
Seventh-day Adventist Church Manual (Hagerstown, MD: Review and Herald, 2005),
85. A discussion was initiated in 2007 on the pages of Ministry magazine regarding
childrens participation in the Lords Supper. Two opposing views were presented and
the editors left readers to draw their own conclusions (see Darius Jankiewicz, The
Lords Supper and Childrens Participation, Ministry, June 2007, 11-15; and Robert
Johnston, Unbaptized Children and Communion, Ministry, June 2007, 15).
149
E. G. White, The Ministry of Healing (Mountain View: Pacific Press, 2004), 373.
150
Allen, 118.
151
Klaus Issler, Biblical Perspectives on Developmental Grace for Nurturing
Childrens Spirituality, in Childrens Spirituality: Christian Perspectives, Research, and
Applications, ed. Donald Ratcliff (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2004), 54.
152
Moses spoke these words to the Israelites when predicting that with the
exception of their children and Joshua and Caleb, they would all die in the wilderness.
Interestingly, Num 14:28-31 confirms that all those twenty years and older did indeed
die without entering the Promised Land, which would seem to imply that those below
the age of twenty were considered to not yet know right from wrong (Deut 1:39).
153
G. W. Morse, Scripture Questions, Review and Herald 65/32, 7 August 1888,
506.
154
Ellen White, Early Writings (Washington, DC: Review and Herald, 1945), 278.
155
Ellen White, Testimonies for the Church (Mountain View: Pacific Press, 1948),
1:400.
148
237
developmental limitations of children; however, it is important that adults

be aware of childrens capacity for sin, and, in developmentally appropriate
ways, help them to understand the impact of their actions, and, over time,
to accept growing [moral] responsibility for them.156 Ellen White concurs,
stating that even very young children may have correct views of their state
as sinners and of the way of salvation through Christ.157 Within this context,
however, it is also important to remember that the sinfulness of children
cannot be equated with the sinfulness of adults. Children do not need as
much help to love God and neighbor. Neither have they yet developed [the]
negative thoughts and feelings that reinforce [the] destructive behaviors of
adults. Thus children should be treated gently.158 In conclusion, whenever the
sinfulness and moral responsibility of children are considered, it is important
to hold these in tension with the scriptural teaching that children are a sign of
Gods blessing on humanity, as well as sources of joy and delight.159
Fully Human and Made in the Image of God
versus Developing Beings Who Need
Instruction and Guidance
Children are human beings created in the image of God (Gen 1:26-27).
Christian tradition has not always recognized this, and language such as
almost human, beasts, and on their way to becoming human has been
used within church tradition to describe children.160 The Scriptures, however,
appear to suggest that children do not grow up into the image of God
once they reach adulthood; rather, Everything that the image of God is,
every child is.161 Consequently, every child, regardless of gender, race, or
social status, has dignity in the eyes of God and is worthy of respect.162
While children are fully human and made in the image of God, they are also
developing beings who are on their way to adulthood. Thus there is much
that children need to learn from the caring adults in their lives.163
Ellen White, Child Guidance (Hagerstown: Review and Herald, 1982), 491.
158
159
160
Bunge, Historical Perspectives on Children in the Church, 48-49.
161
Fretheim, God Was With the Boy (Genesis 21:20), 4. Fretheim asserts:
This point is made clear in Genesis 5:1-3, the beginning of the genealogy of Adam.
After noting that male and female were created in the image of God, the genealogical
structure of this chapter makes God the father of Adam. Genesis 5:3 then states:
When Adam had lived 130 years, he became the father of a son in his likeness,
according to his image, and named him Seth. Human beings are now the ones who
create further images of God. In other words: this first generation of children is
created in the image of God (even after the fall into sin) (ibid., emphasis original).
162
Bunge, Historical Perspectives on Children in the Church. 49.
163
Ibid., 48.
156
157
238
The Scriptures are replete with the theme of adult responsibility to

guide and nurture children in the way of the Lord.164 Accordingly, various
theologians in Christian history, including Luther, Wesley, and Bushnell, have
stressed the importance of instructing and guiding children. The Adventist
perspective, influenced by the writings of Ellen White, also has a rich tradition
of emphasizing the scriptural mandate to teach and nurture young children.165
White writes: How interestedly the Lord Jesus knocks at the door of families
where there are little children to be educated and trained! How gently he
watches over the mothers interest, and how sad He feels to see children
neglected.166 White also stresses the value of the early training of children,
stating that The lessons learned, the habits formed during early childhood
have more to do with the formation of the character and the direction of
the life than have all the instruction and training of the after years.167 This
appears to be in line with current research, which suggests that discipleship
needs to be intentional in the earliest years, as a childs worldview is basically
established by age nine.168
Having affirmed the importance of guidance and instruction, however,
the theological questions that Adventists need to consider are, How does
a child become a Christian? How significant is parental influence? Horace
Bushnell asserted that parental influence was everything, and that it was the
bad spot[s] in parental morality that could more or less fatally corrupt
their children.169 Similarly, Ellen White writes that childrens salvation
depends largely upon the education given them in childhood,170 upon the
parental course of action.171 Without detracting from the need for and
importance of Christian nurture, it is imperative to also acknowledge the
work of the Holy Spirit in childrens lives. Children need opportunities to
meet God through the stories of Scripture and to experience his love through
relationships with the people in their lives; however, ultimately, they must
also be born again (John 3:3). If, as Bushnell suggests, children grow up
See the sections on the biblical perspectives on children, above.
This includes the second largest denominational formal education system,
as well as comprehensive Sabbath School, Pathfinder, and Adventurer curricula (the
latter two organizations are scouting clubs for Adventist children).
166
Ellen White, That I May Know Him (Hagerstown: Review and Herald, 2003), 39.
167
White, Ministry of Healing, 380.
168
George Barna, Transforming Children into Spiritual Champions: Why Children Should
be Your Churchs #1 Priority (Ventura, CA: Regal Books, 2003), 47.
169
Bushnell, Christian Nurture, 224.
170
White, Child Guidance, 27.
171
Ibid, 33. Whites understanding of Christian nurture appears in many
ways,similar to that of her contemporary, Bushnell. These similarities, however, may
have different implications in the framework of their overall theologies. Further study
is needed to examine these similarities and differences.
164
165
239
Christian and never know themselves as being otherwise, they may not fully
recognize their sinfulness and, thus, their need for grace. In contrast, Ellen
White recognized the need for children to experience conversion, suggesting
that once parents were satisfied that their children understood the meaning
of conversion and were truly converted they could be baptized; however,
she continued to stress parental responsibility for the nurture of children,
even after this point. She wrote: If you consent to the baptism of your
children and then leave them to do as they choose, feeling no special duty
to keep their feet in the straight path, you yourselves are responsible if they
lose faith and courage and interest in the truth.172 This may be indicative
of her recognition that a childhood conversion experience was based on an
immature understanding of sin, forgiveness, and salvation, and that ongoing
nurture was needed, in order for childhood faith to grow and eventually
mature into adult faith.173
Although parental nurture prepares children to claim faith as their
own, it is also important to acknowledge that the complex influences on
childrens choices are rarely limited to parental actions alone.174 Could it be
that the potentially devastating psychological implications of overconfidence
in the parental role contributes to the ambivalence parents feel toward
their responsibility for the spiritual nurture of their children?175 Might not
a stronger theology of children and parenting empower parents to provide
the nurture their children need? However, it is essential to remember that
a discussion of adult commitment to provide children with instruction and
guidance must be held in tension with the scriptural teaching that all children
Ellen G. White, Testimonies for the Churches, 6:94-95.
For a discussion of childhood conversion and development of mature faith,
see Donna J. Habenicht, How to Help Your Child Really Love Jesus (Hagerstown, MD:
Review and Herald, 1994), 121-126; cf. Stonehouse and May, 91-106.
174
Donald and Brenda Ratcliff, Childfaith: Experiencing God and Spiritual Growth
with Your Children (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2010), 174; cf. Ross A. Thompson, M. Ann
Easterbrooks, and Laura M. Padilla-Walker, Social and Emotional Developments in
Infancy, in Handbook of Psychology, ed. Richard M. Lerner (New York: Wiley, 2003),
103.
172
173
175
Statistics of Adventist parents may differ somewhat; however, surveys of
American Christians reveal that although eighty-five percent of parents believe that
they are primarily responsible for the spiritual nurture of their children, over two-thirds
of them abdicate that responsibility to the church. In an average week, fewer than
ten percent of church-going Christian parents read the Bible, pray (other than at meal
times), or participate in a service activity together with their children. Furthermore,
in an average month, only five percent of families experience worship together, other
than at church. Barna, 77-78, suggests that one of the reasons for this apparent
contradiction between what parents say they believe about their responsibility and
their practice is their sense of inadequacy. Feeling ill-equipped to fulfill their obligations
to their children, parents have convinced themselves that the best solution is for them
to get out of the way and allow those who are more skilled in spiritual matters to
provide the guidance and direction their children need.
240
are fully human and made in the image of God, and thus are to be respected
from the beginning of life.176
Models of Faith and Sources of Revelation versus Orphans,
Neighbors, and Strangers in Need of Justice
and Compassion
Jesus teaching that adults should learn from children not only how to enter
the kingdom of heaven (Mark 10:15; Luke 18:17), but also how to be the
greatest in the kingdom of God (Matt 18:1-5; Mark 9:33-37; Luke 9:46-48), is
as radical today as it was in the first century a.d. Adventist scholar Calvin Rock
affirms that children are teaching partners within the family.177 However, the
perspective that adults can learn from children is an undeveloped paradigm in
the Adventist Church. Generally, adults have considered children as needing
to learn from them, rather than vice versa. Accordingly, Christian educator John
Westerhoff suggests that adults have tended to view children in one of two
ways: (1) a production line, in which children are seen as valuable raw
material, who, with appropriate instruction and training, can be molded to
a predetermined design (the emphasis is on what adults do to children);
and (2) a greenhouse, in which children are valuable seeds, which, when
cared for and nourished, can grow up to reach their potential (the emphasis
is on what adults do for children).178 Neither of these metaphors, Westerhoff
suggests, is adequate for construing the relationship between children and
adults. Instead he challenges adults to think of themselves as co-pilgrims
on a journey with children.179
What is it that children can teach adults about spirituality? Westerhoff
suggests that although the apostle Paul recommends that adults give up being
childish, Jesus challenges them to become more childlike. By spending
time with children, adults can learn the spiritual values of interdependence, of
being rather than doing, and of intuitive ways of thinking.180 Through shared
experiences in nature, the arts, and communal rituals, adults and children
Calvin Rock, Marriage and Family, in Handbook of Seventh-day Adventist Theology
(Hagerstown: Review and Herald, 2000), 732. Citing from the Seventh-day Adventist Bible
Commentary, Rock, ibid., writes: It is said of Enoch that he walked with God after
the birth of Methuselah (Gen. 5:21-22). Though this statement does not imply that
Enoch had been an ungodly individual before the birth of his son, with the arrival
of a son to grace his home he understood through experience the depth of a fathers
love and the confidence of a helpless baby. As never before he was drawn to God, his
own heavenly Father (cf. The Seventh-day Adventist Bible Commentary [Washington, DC:
Review and Herald, 1953], 1:246).
178
J. Westerhoff, The Churchs Contemporary Challenge: Assisting Adults to
Mature Spiritually With Their Children, in Nurturing Childrens Spirituality: Christian
Perspectives and Best Practices, ed. H. Catterton Allen (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2008), 356.
179
Ibid., 359.
180
Ibid., 361-363.
176
177
241
can learn from one another and together move toward spiritual maturity.181
Similarly, in their seminal work, Listening to Children on the Spiritual Journey,
Stonehouse and May challenge adults to take the time to listen to childrens
reflections on life, to recognize the working of Gods grace in their lives,
and to listen and watch for what God may show us through them.182
While Jesus challenged adults to see children as models of faith and
sources of revelation, the Scriptures also teach that children are orphans,
neighbors, and strangers in need of justice and compassion. In a world where
annually ten million children die of easily preventable causes, and where
childrens sex trafficking, sweatshops and soldiering have burgeoned,183
Christians are not only called to care for their own children, to whom their
devotion is limitless, but they are also called to be attentive to the needs of
the children at the edge of [their] passion.184 In doing so, they join Jesus in
fulfilling his mission of bringing good news to the poor and freedom for the
prisoners (Luke 4:18-19).185
Conclusion and Recommendations
The purpose of this article was to begin to articulate a Seventh-day Adventist
theology of children and childhood and to explore the implication of such a
theology for the practice of ministry with children within a broader Adventist
theological context. It appears that the Scriptures and Christian tradition offer
rich perspectives on children and childhood that have not been fully explored
or clearly articulated within the Adventist theological tradition. Additionally,
Ellen Whites writings do not appear to have been systematically examined
for a theology of children and childhood or parenting. As a result, ministry to
children and parents has often been considered incidental rather than central
to the mission of the church, with the result that many of the intellectual
and financial resources of the church have been utilized in adult evangelism,
which has appeared to bring more immediate rewards.
This article is, therefore, an incipient contribution to encourage Seventhday Adventist thought leaders to build a strong and careful theology of
children. More in-depth investigation and analysis of the scriptural and
historical material dealing with children and childhood, including that of
Ellen White, should follow. Intentional development of a strong Adventist
theology could have at least two positive implications:
First, it could empower Adventist parents in their task of building strong,
lifelong familial bonds with their children. This, in turn, would provide an
Ibid., 365.
Stonehouse and May, 12-16.
183
John Wall, Ethics in Light of Childhood (Washington, DC: Georgetown University
Press, 2010), 2.
184
Walter Brueggemann, Vulnerable Children, Divine Passion, and Human
Obligation, in The Child in the Bible, ed. Marcia Bunge (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
2008), 419.
181
182
185
242
environment conducive to children growing up in the knowledge and love

of Jesus Christ. If indeed, as current research suggests, a childs worldview
is basically formed by age nine,186 empowering parents through a strong
theology of children takes on added urgency.
Second, a strong theology of childhood could raise the consciousness of
the presence and importance of children, as well as the profile of childrens
ministry in local congregations. It is a well-established fact that nominating
committees in many local congregations struggle to find people either
willing or able to minister to children. While there are exceptions, those who
eventually agree to take up such positions often feel coerced and ill equipped.
A greater regard for ministry to and with children would make it easier to
identify and train individuals who could fill such ministry positions. A strong
theology of children could result in improved development and dissemination
of uniquely Adventist parenting and childrens faith-formation resources and
could ultimately help close the proverbial back door through which the
Adventist Church loses so many young people.
Thus Barna, 47, writes: The implications of these findings [that basic
worldview is established by age nine] is clear: Anyone who wishes to have significant
influence on the development of a persons moral and spiritual foundations had better
exert that influence while the person is still open-minded and impressionablein
other words, while the person is still young. By waiting until a person is in his or her
late adolescent or teenage years, the nature of influential attempts must be significantly
different because the spiritual foundation has already been formed and integrated into
the persons life. . . . The older a person gets, the more difficult it is for him or her to
replace existing spiritual and moral pillars.
186

RITE FROM THE VERY BEGINNING: RITES

OF PASSAGE IN LUKE 14 AND THEIR
FUNCTION IN THE NARRATIVE
OF LUKE-ACTS
Teresa Reeve
Andrews University
Half a century ago in his influential work, The Theology of St. Luke, Hans
Conzelmann observed that The three scenes which mark the main stages
in Jesus ministrythe Baptism, the Transfiguration and the Agony in the
Gardenare assimilated to one another. On each of the three occasions a
heavenly revelation is depicted as the answer to prayer.1 While the details
of Lukan stages have long been debated, Conzelmanns observation about
the significance of such scenes remains of interest. Indeed, as this paper will
argue, such divinely visited transitional events are particularly prevalent in
chapters 14 and serve several purposes in the third Gospel.
Over the past century, the events associated with life transitions have
received considerable attention under the rubric of rites of passage. For
the purposes of this essay, a rite of passage will be understood as a formal
process rooted in tradition, which marks the transition of an individual or
group from one culturally determined state or station in life to another. Such
a rite often involves, to one degree or another, a separation from the old, a
liminal or in-between stage, and a reincorporation into a new state or station.2
As a modern construct, the application of rite-of-passage theory to ancient
texts requires careful attention to similarities and differences between model
Hans Conzelmann, The Theology of St. Luke, trans. Geoffrey Buswell (New York:
Harper, 1960), 180.
2
This definition is created in dialogue with the works of Arnold van Gennep
(The Rites of Passage, trans. M. B. Vizedom and G. L. Caffee [Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1960], 2-3, 10), Victor W. Turner (Forest of Symbols: Aspects of Ndembu
Ritual [Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1967], 7; and Forms of Symbolic Action:
Introduction, in Forms of Symbolic Action: Proceedings of the 1969 Annual Spring Meeting
of the American Ethnological Society, ed. R. F. Spender [Seattle: University of Washington
Press, 1969], 94), and Catherine Bell (Ritual: Perspectives and Dimensions [New York:
Oxford University Press, 1997], 138-169). Bell, 138-169, and Ronald L. Grimes (Ritual
Criticism: Case Studies in Its Practice, Essays on Its Theory [Columbia: University of South
Carolina Press, 1990], 12-14; and Reading, Writing, and Ritualizing: Ritual in Fictive,
Liturgical, and Public Places [Washington, DC: Pastoral Press, 1993], 7-10) correctly point
out that a particular ritual may not evidence all of these characteristics, and that there
are in reality no precise lines separating ritual from nonritual. Ceremonial rites, in
contrast, though regularly patterned and formal, are celebrated on a calendrical basis
rather than at irregular societally ordained points of transition.
1
243
244
and literary account, yet bringing similar events together in this way allows for
observations not easily gained by other means.3
Rites of passage have been widely observed in the lives and literature of
diverse cultures across space and time. In the Jewish and Greco-Roman world
of the first and second centuries c.e., little was done without proper ritual.4
Societally ordained rites of passage accompanied an individuals movement
into each new stage of the human life cycle from infancy and puberty, to
betrothal and marriage, to the final funereal good-byes.5 Transitional rites
also marked changes in role, ushering individuals into offices of authority
such as priesthood or governorship.6 In addition, men and women of broadly
differing social levels often underwent voluntary rites such as initiation into a
mystery religion or rituals promising healing from disease.7
The prevalence of rites of passage in Lukes time is well documented;
yet, in fact, narrative literature of the period tends to generally ignore or
gloss over routine passage rites unless there was some pressing reason for
their inclusion.8 It is all the more remarkable, then, that the opening chapters
See, e.g., Andrea Fisher, The Relationship of Individual and Society in Victor
Turners The Ritual Process, Journal of Anthropology 1 (1978): 37-38; Jerry D. Moore,
Visions of Culture: An Introduction to Anthropological Theories and Theorists (Walnut Creek,
CA: Alta Mira, 1997), 229; Victor W. Turner, African Ritual and Western Literature:
Is a Comparative Symbology Possible? in The Literature of Fact: Selected Papers from the
English Institute, ed. A. Fletcher (New York: Columbia University Press, 1976), 45-81.
4
In general in this essay, the term ritual will be used to refer to a generic type
of ritual, while rite will refer to a specific instance of its practice.
5
See, e.g., Gen 17:10-14; Josephus, Ant. 2.2382.274; C. Ap. 2:205; Suetonius,
Nero 6; Ovid, Fast. 3.771-790; Pliny the Younger, Ep. 10.116; Walter Burkert, Greek
Religion: Archaic and Classical, trans. J. Raffan (Oxford: Blackwell, 1985), 262-263;
Fanny L. Dolansky, Coming of Age in Rome: The History and Social Significance
of Assuming the Toga Virilis (MA thesis, University of Victoria, 1999); Mary Harlow,
and Ray Laurence, Growing Up and Growing Old in Ancient Rome: A Life Course Approach
(London: Routledge, 2002), 3-4, 37-42, 60-64, 138-143; Nigel M. Kennell, The
Gymnasium of Virtue: Education and Culture in Ancient Sparta (Chapel Hill: University of
North Carolina Press, 1995), 38, 144-146; Paul Monroe, Source Book of the History of
Education for the Greek and Roman Period (New York: Macmillan, 1902), 302.
6
See, e.g., Exod 2829; 40:13-16; Lev 8:19:24; Plutarch, Num. 7.38.3; idem, Art.
3.14; Suetonius, Nero 6.7-8.
7
See, e.g., Dio Chrysostom, Dei cogn. 33; Hippolytus, Haer. 5.8; Clement of
Alexandria, Protr. 2.21; Walter Burkert, Ancient Mystery Cults (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1987); Emma J. L. Edelstein and Ludwig Edelstein, Asclepius: Collection
and Interpretation of the Testimonies (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins, 1998); Carin M. C. Green,
Roman Religion and the Cult of Diana at Aricia (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2007), 235-280.
8
In the writings of Plutarch and Suetonius, e.g., the routine rites of passage are
seldom mentioned, even though the ubiquity is well attested in other literature of the
time.
3
Rite from the Very Beginning . . .
245
of Luke contain such a heavy concentration of these rites, some of which

reverberate through the remaining chapters of the whole two-volume work
of Luke-Acts. In the remarks that follow, rituals in Luke 14 will be brought
together and examined and their relation to Luke-Acts as a whole briefly
considered. Rite-of-passage accounts in other narrative literature of Lukes
day will then be explored with a view to understanding the reasons for Lukes
particular interest in these rites.
Rites of Passage Highlighted in Luke 14
The Lukan narrative opens in the midst of a divinely visited ritualnot a rite
of passage, but a regularly occurring ceremony of incense-burning conducted
by Zacharias in the temple that takes on the meaning of rite. It is during this
rite that Gabriel appears from heaven, promising the birth of a son who
would make ready a people prepared for the Lord (Luke 1:16, 17; cf. Exod
30:7-8; 2 Chron 13:11). The scene portraying this sons welcome is set in the
midst of a full-fledged rite of passage, as joyful neighbors and kin gather for
the traditional eighth-day-circumcision ritual, marking the transition of Johns
birth and acceptance into the covenant people of God (Luke 2:57-59). Luke
couples this divinely ordained Jewish rite (Lev 12:3) with the formal naming
of the child, an important aspect of the Roman birthing rites familiar to Lukes
audience and performed here by divine command (Luke 1:13, 59-64).9 As in
the transitions noted by Conzelmann, divine interaction accompanies the rite,
for Zacharias is filled with the Holy Spirit and, blessing God, prophesies of
his sons future work (1:67-79; see Figure 1).
An eighth-day-circumcision rite, accompanied by a divinely directed
naming (2:21; 1:31), is also noted in the account of Jesus birth. In Jesus case,
however, these rites are overshadowed by a second pair of passage rites that
receive greater attention. These, a purification rite and a rite of presentation,
take place in the temple and, like the first two, reflect earlier traditions (Luke
2:21-24; Exod 13:2, 12; Lev 12:2-8; 1 Sam 1:24-28).
Luke 2:23 quotes Exod 13:2, 12, explicitly interpreting Jesus presentation
at the temple as a response to Gods command at the first Passover that
every firstborn male be set apart as holy to the Lord. According to the
Pentateuch, while firstborn oxen, sheep, and goats were to be sacrificed,
human first borns, who, like Jesus, were not of the tribe of Levi, were to
be redeemed with a payment of five shekels (Exod 13:11-16; Num 3:4748; 18:15-16). There is no specific requirement in the Pentateuch, however,
for a formal presentation at the temple itself. Lukes specific mention of
a ritual presentation with no redemption price, therefore, may represent a
9
Harlow and Laurence, 39-40. It is later also attested in Jewish literature. Joseph
A. Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke I, 19, AB 28a (New York: Doubleday, 1981),
380.
246
formal enactment of Gabriels declaration that Jesus would be a holy child,

remaining sacred to the Lord.10 Indeed, although the purification law Luke
cites specifically required purification only for the mother (Lev 12:1-8), Luke
speaks in the plural of their purification [tou/ kaqarismou/ auvtw/n]. Such
purification would have been appropriate for one being set apart as sacred.
As Franois Bovon notes, a similar ritual was to be enacted in certain cases for
the purification of the Nazirite set apart as holy to the Lord (Num 6:1-12).11
These rites, too, become the occasion of divine in-breaking, as the Holy Spirit
reveals to two righteous prophets the special nature of the child. As with
Zacharias, Simeon and Anna, too, turn to God with words of praise.
The ritual account concludes with the statement that, when the family
had completed (evte,lesan) everything according to the law of the Lord,
they returned to Nazareth (Luke 2:39). The use of tele,w in this verse
appears to be the first of several related technical ritual usages in Luke-Acts,
which, in common with many other Greco-Roman texts, note the successful
performance of sacred ritual.12
The infancy narrative ends, as it began, with a regularly patterned temple
ceremony. In this case, the ceremony is the Passover in Jerusalem, to which,
when He became twelve they went up according to the custom of the Feast
(2:42). This specific notice of Jesus age raises the possibility that, in addition
to the Passover ceremony, a ritual of transition to young manhood is in view
here, for several early Rabbinic passages suggest that it was at the age of
twelve that young men were considered to have reached the standing of
full responsibility before God.13 The possibility that Luke either knew of a
formal marking of this transition (which we no longer have witness to), or
No requirement of a presentation at the Temple is recorded in connection with
the exodus command in the Hebrew Bible, the LXX, or the Mishnah. See Raymond E.
Brown, The Presentation of Jesus (Luke 2:22-40), Worship 51 (1977): 2-11; Franois
Bovon, Luke I, 1:19:50, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2002), 99; Fitzmyer, 425426. The English translations of biblical texts throughout are my own.
11
Bovon, 99.
10
12
Luke 12:50. See also the use of suntele,w in Luke 4:2, 13 to describe Jesus
successful completion of the ordeals that followed his baptism, and in Acts 21:27 of
the completion of the sacred time of Pentecost. Cf. Plutarch, Art. 3.1; idem, Flam.
2.1; Philo, Spec. 1.319; idem, Decal. 41; idem, Contemp. 25; tele,w, BDAG, 997; tele,w,
LSJ, 17711772; Walter Burkert, Ancient Mystery Cults (Cambridge: Harvard University
Press, 1987), 9. Mark does not use this term at all, while Matthew uses it with the more
common usage to finish, or complete.
13
M. Abot 5:21; m. Nid. 5:6; cf. m. Meg. 4:6; b. Ketub. 50; StrB 2.144-147; Frdric
Manns, Luc 2, 41-50 tmoin de la Bar Mitswa de Jsus, Mar 40 (1978): 344-349. See
also I. Howard Marshall, The Gospel of Luke: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC
(Exeter: Paternoster, 1978), 126-127; Fitzmyer, 440; contra Bovon, 111. There is,
however, no extant evidence of such a formal bar mitzvah rite during the period.
247
was echoing well-known Greco-Roman puberty rites, is strengthened by the

fact that the portrayal of Jesus shifts at this very point from the depiction
of him in a passive and thus child-like role to a decisive leading role in the
narrative.14 There is no explicit mention of prayer or divine intervention
here, although Jesus, in his words to his parents following the completion
(teleio,w) of the Passover, does assert his recognition of a special connection
with the heavenly Father: Did you not know that I must be in the house of
my Father? (2:49).15
These birth narratives of Luke 12 are not mentioned in any other
canonical Gospel. The events of Luke 34, on the other hand, are recounted
in all four Gospels; yet, it is in Luke-Acts alone that they are repeatedly
referenced in ways that foreground them as pivotal within the entire twovolume work.
The significance of Johns baptismin the Lukan account the first of
two interlocked ritualsis attested by an elaborate dating formula, a device
often used in Greco-Roman narrative to mark transition to a major new
section of narrative. Such dating formulas are also used in Jewish prophetic
literature to introduce divine declaration, and indeed the coming of the word
of God (r`h/ma qeou/) initiates and apparently prescribes Johns ritual work,
for Luke (with Mark) states that John then began preaching a baptism of
repentance for the forgiveness of sins (Luke 3:1-3; Mark 1:4).16 Though
Luke thus identifies God as the source for this new rite of baptism, in this
work redolent with Septuagintal associations such a practice would also have
recalled the various ritual purificatory dippings (ba,ptw) commanded by God
in the Law (Lev 4:6, 17; 9:9; 11:32; 14:6, 16, 51; Num 19:18).17 Further, ritual
immersion practices are evident in Lukes own time, including the presence of
Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke, NICNT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997),
156. It is the family that goes up to the feast, but Jesus who speaks independently
with the teachers and, as Green notes, is said to act by going down to Nazareth and
submitting to his parents.
15
Interestingly, a Passover rite also stands at the end of Jesus ministry as the
setting for the institution of the ritual of the Lords Supper. In contrast to the use of
tele,w in 2:39, teleio,w in 2:43 most likely refers to the completion of the days of the
Passover, although interestingly the related words tele,wsij and telei,ouma are often
used in association with the attainment of manhood and the accompanying dedication
(Teleio,w, LSJ, 1770).
16
Thucydides 2.2; Polybius, The Histories, trans. W. R. Paton, LCL (Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 1922), 1.3; Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Ant. Rom. 9.61; Dan
7:1; Ezek 24:1; Hag 2:10; Zech 1:7; 7:1; Conzelmann, 168.
17
Cf. Sir 34:24, 29; Jdt 12:7, 8; Mark 7:4. By the Second Temple period these
rituals were often referred to with the term bapti,zw.
14
248
mikvaot spread across first-century Palestine, along with similar traditions of

water purification often formed as a part of Greco-Roman ritual.18
In response, crowds come out to be baptized by him (Luke 3:7),
symbolically enacting their transition from brood of vipers to a people
prepared for the Lord, who have fled from the wrath to come (1:14; 3:7;
7:29-30).19 John also promises, in addition to this physical rite, a further baptism
to come, accomplished with the Holy Spirit and firea metaphorical baptism
that becomes, later in Luke-Acts, the basis for further ritual development
(3:15-17; Matt 3:11; Mark 1:8).20
Lukes separation of the events at Jesus baptism from Johns preaching
results, in part, in the separating off of Jesus unique ritual experience, which
Luke alone associates with a second traditional rite of passagethe rite of
anointing.21 In 3:21-22, the act of Jesus baptism is syntactically subordinated
to the divinely initiated events following his prayer. This ordering could be
understood as simply emphasizing the divine affirmation of Jesus if not for
the ritual interpretation given it in subsequent narratives, for Jesus ministry
opens with the declaration that the Holy Spirit has anointed him to preach
18
Adela Yarbro Collins. The Origin of Christian Baptism, in Living Water,
Sealing Spirit: Readings on Christian Initiation, ed. M. E. Johnson (Collegeville: Liturgical
Press, 1995), 52-53. In the Greco-Roman world of Lukes audience, ritual purification
was practiced in connection with initiations into the mystery cults, such as that of
Lucius in Metamorphoses 11.23 and the young man initiated into the Bacchic rites in
Livy, 39.9.4, as well as in other traditions. See also Clement of Alexandria, Strom. 4.3.1;
George F. Mylonas, Eleusis and the Eleusinian Mysteries (Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 1961), 96, 224-285, fig. 70. Ritual cleansings are sometimes characterized as
superstitious, as in Juvenal, Sat. 6.522ff.; and Plutarch, Superst.166a. For other literature
and also reliefs depicting ritual washings, see A. Oerke, Ba,ptw, Bapti,zw, TDNT
1:530-532. Other types of Jewish ritual cleansings in water at the time of Luke-Acts
included the bathings at Qumran (1QS 3.4), Josephuss mention of Bannuss day and
night washings (Vita 11), the Sibyline Oracless call to wash your whole bodies in
perennial rivers in connection with repentance (4.165), and the cleansing/baptism of
the Jewish proselyte (M. Pesah 8.8; m. CEd. 5.2).
19
In fact, Luke states that all the people are baptized (Luke 3:21), apparently
suggesting the successful carrying out of the task Gabriel had given to John to
make ready a people prepared for the Lord (1:17; 3:4; cf. 7:29; Isa 40:3). In the
re-incorporation phase of the ritual, this symbolic transition, John insists, must be
actualized through appropriate acts of repentance (3:8-14).
meta,noia, BDAG 640.

This has been variously ascribed to (1) a historiographical device separating the
period of the prophets from the period of Jesus (Conzelmann, 21, 26); (2) an avoidance
of allowing the lesser John to baptize the mightier Jesus (Charles G. Dennison, How
Is Jesus the Son of God? Lukes Baptism Narrative and Christology, CTJ 17 [1982]:
6-25); and (3) the logical conclusion of Johns side of this final parallel (Marshall,
148-149).
20
21
249
the good news (Luke 4:16-21). In Acts 10:37-38, Peter makes this ritual
connection more explicit, specifically stating that God anointed Jesus with the
Holy Spirit after the baptism which John proclaimed (cf. Acts 4:27).
Traditionally, anointing rites were practiced at the commissioning of
high priests and kings and even, occasionally, prophets.22 The act of anointing
normally involved the pouring of oil on the candidates head; however, for
David, the account also describes the coming of the Holy Spirit upon him
(1 Sam 16:13). Thus, in addition to explicating Jesus title of anointed one
(Christ/Messiah), this passage, by connecting the coming of the Holy Spirit
to the rite of anointing, underlines the kingly connections to David already
introduced in the birth narrative.23
The significant shifts from previous tradition in the rituals of baptism
and of anointing set them apart from those described in the birth narrative.
Both are represented not simply as traditional ritual accompanied by divine
visitation, but as a divine ritualization wherein God himself initiates a brandnew rite of passage out of the fabric of earlier traditions.
Ritual and Divine Interaction in the Rest of Luke-Acts
The beginning of Jesus ministry, initiated by his anointing, marks the climax
of Luke 14s particular emphasis on ritual beginnings, which is the main
focus of this article. Viewing these early rites, however, in the context of
two related and ongoing ritual patterns in the remainder of Luke-Acts will
demonstrate the extent of such patterning in relation to both the baptism and
anointing of Luke 3 and to divine interaction.
One ritual pattern occurring repeatedly throughout Luke-Acts is the
commissioning of individuals for new roles, a pattern inaugurated by the
commissioning of Jesus for his messianic role by means of the rite of anointing.
The choosing of the twelve also becomes in Luke a specific appointment to
apostleship to carry out a mission that, as with that of Jesus, is gradually
unfolded in the subsequent narrative (Luke 6:12-16; 24:46-49). As with the
anointing of Jesus, this event, too, is set in the context of Jesus in prayer.24
At the beginning of Acts, commissioning rites are described: a twelfth
apostle is chosen to replace Judas (Luke 1:15-26) and, as the gospel spreads
For kings, see, e.g., 1 Sam 10:1; 1 Chron 11:3; 2 Kgs 11:12. For priests, see Exod
28:41 and Lev 16:32. For prophets, see 1 Kgs 19:16.
23
As with David, such expectations only begin to come to fruition later in Acts
(e.g., 2:33) after Jesus own time of trials and suffering. In Luke, Jesus plays more of a
prophetic role, as evidenced in 13:33; cf. 7:16, 26, 39; 9:8, 19; 24:19.
24
A different, more formulaic approach to commissioning is in view in the
articles of B. J. Hubbard (Commissioning Stories in Luke-Acts: A Study of Their
Antecedents, Form and Content, Semeia 8 [1977]: 103-126); and T. Y. Mullins (New
Testament Commission Forms, Especially in Luke-Acts. JBL 95 [1976]: 603-614).
22
250
following Jesus ascension, seven more are called to assist them in the work
of serving (Acts 6:1-6). Paul and Barnabus, too, are commissioned at the
direction of the Holy Spirit (Acts 13:1-3), at which time they begin appointing
elders in every church (Acts 14:23). Finally, there is the handing over of the
baton of leadership in a ritualized giving of Pauls last-will-and-testament
rite with a paradigmatic group of elders from Ephesus (Acts 20:17-38).25
In these more or less formalized commissioning rites, divine intervention
is explicitly mentioned only twice, but subsequent events bear clear witness
to the presence of divine blessing and empowerment. Prayer, on the other
hand, duly noted in each case, reinforces the centrality of prayer at times of
transition and ritual in Luke-Acts (see Figure 2).
By far the most pervasive ritual pattern in Luke-Acts, however, is the
multivalent use of baptism as symbol. Mark may have pointed the way in
this by placing Johns baptismal preaching as the beginning of the gospel
(Luke 1:1), but Luke-Acts goes far beyond Mark not only in portrayals of the
baptism of believers in Acts, but also in the Gospel itself, where several key
moments of transition in Jesus life are linked to baptism through metaphor
and verbal echo. Indeed the ritual of baptism is a major uniting factor in the
entire work (see Figure 3).
In the Gospel of Luke, the divine origin of Johns baptism receives
additional affirmation in a narrative aside asserting that the Pharisees and lawexperts, by not being baptized by John, had thereby rejected Gods purpose
for themselves (7:29-30).26 The Lukan Gospel also includes two indirect links
to this baptism. The first is embedded in the transfiguration account, which,
as Conzelmann notes, marks the transition to Jesus journey to Jerusalem, a
pivotal stage in Lukes Gospel.27 Here a heavenly voice again speaks, as it had
in the original baptism-anointing account, to affirm Jesus as Gods Son and
prepare him and his followers for the next phase of his ministry (9:34-35).28
25
Each of these new beginnings contains echoes of the past in the choice and
reconstitution of twelve (Josh 3:12; Luke 22:29-30; Acts 7:8), in the ritual appointment
of elders to assist in carrying on the work (Num 11:16), and in the laying-on of hands
(Num 8:10; 27:18-23).
26
This is in contrast to all the people and the tax collectors, who, Luke says,
had been baptized and who acknowledged Gods justice. This passage, unique to
Luke, is, in addition to the inclusion of the standard Synoptic pericope in which Jesus
reinforces Johns baptism by answering the question from the chief priests and elders
regarding the source of his authority, pushes them to identify the source of Johns
authority (20:1-8).
27
Luke 9:28-36.
28
Indeed 2 Peter uses the term evpo,pthj (initiates) of the disciple-witnesses of the
transfiguration (1:16-18), suggesting a possible early Christian interpretation of the
event using the language of mystery-religion initiation.
1:5-22
1:57-79
2:21-39
2:42-51
3:1-18
3:214:15
Burning of incense at
the Jerusalem Temple
Circumcision (and
Naming)
Circumcision (and
Naming), Purification,
and Presentation
Passover at the
Jerusalem Temple
Johns baptism
Jesus baptism-anointing
Zacharias was filled

with the Holy Spirit and
prophesied 1:67
Of Johns life
the word of God came

upon John (3:2)
heaven opened, the Holy
Spirit descended, . . . and a
voice came out of heaven
(2:21-22)
Of a people prepared
for the Lord (1:17;
3:34)
Of Jesus public ministry
Of Jesus young
manhood
Simeon came in the Spirit

into the temple
An angel of the Lord

appeared to Zacharias
(1:11)
Of the things
accomplished among us
(1:1)
Of Jesus life
Divine Manifestation
New Beginning
Items in bold on the charts are not found in the other canonical Gospels
Lukan Passage
Ritual
Figure 1. Ritual and Divine Interaction in Luke 14
This all takes place while Jesus

was praying
(Jesus must be in the house of

[his] Father 2:49)
Simeon praised God (2:27);

Anna was serving with fastings
and prayers night and day (2:37)
Praised be the Lord God of

Israel (1:68)
The people are in prayer outside

(1:10); Zachariass petition has
been heard (1:13)
Prayer
251
Of Paul and Barnabus for

their divinely appointed
mission
Of elders in new
churches
Acts 1:15-26
Acts 6:1-6
Acts 13:1-3
Acts 14:23
Acts 20:17-38
Drawing of lots; Formal naming to role

of apostle
Laying-on of hands; Formal naming to

be in charge of the serving of food
(Fasting) Laying-on of hands; Formal

naming to their mission
Fasting; Formal naming to eldership
Last Will and Testament
Items in bold are found only in Luke among the Gospels
Of the special role of the

Twelve
Luke 6:12-16
Formal naming to the role of apostle
Of Seven to serve food
Of Matthiass apostleship
Of Jesus public ministry
New Beginning
Luke 3:214:13
Passage
Anointing with the Spirit (Baptism,

Wilderness Ordeals)
Ritual Action
Figure 2. Rites of Commissioning in Luke-Acts
Prayer
Prayer
Prayer
Prayer
Prayer
Prayer
Prayer
Prayer
Holy Spirit speaks
Heaven opens;
The Holy Spirit descends;
A heavenly voice speaks
Explicit Divine Intervention
252
3:1-21
9:28-36
12:50; 22:39-47
Acts 2:37-41; cf. 8:1216, 36; 9:18; 10:47-48;

16:15, 33; 18:8; 19:5;
22:16
Luke 3:16; Acts 2:1-4;

(1:5,8,14) 11:1517;
(10:30, 31, 46)
Johns baptism
Transfiguration
Jesus Passion in
Jerusalem
Baptism of Believers
A Baptism with the

Holy Spirit
Items in bold are found only in Luke among the Gospels
Passage
Event
Of the spread of the

gospel by Jesus witnesses
Of a people devoted to the

Lord
Of Jesus death, resurrection,

and ascension
Of Jesus journey to
Jerusalem
Of a people prepared for the

Lord (Of Jesus ministry)
New Beginning
Prayer, sound from

heaven, tongues as of
fire, speaking with other
tongues, exalting God
An outpouring of the Holy

Spirit is sometimes noted
Jesus prayer and the

ministration of the angel
opens the passion account
in 22:39-43
Jesus prayer, glory, voice,

visit from Moses and Elijah
Jesus prayer, the word of

God came (the promise of a
Holy Spirit baptism)
Interaction with the Divine
Figure 3 Ritualization Linked in Luke-Acts to the Primary Ritual Paradigm of Baptism
Direct verbal links to

Johns promise of a Holy
Spirit baptism
Physical enactment of
baptism/dipping;
interpretation of its
meaning in LukeActs
overlaps with that of
Johns baptism
Jesus speaks of his passion

as a distressing baptism
with which he must be
baptized
Voice from cloud echoes

voice from heaven at
baptism
Foundational baptism story
Connection to Baptism
253
254
The Gospels second indirect link to baptism in Luke 12:50 is likewise

associated with the journey to Jerusalem. After a discourse calling his servants
to care for others and prepare for their masters coming, Jesus remarks, I
have come to cast fire upon the earth, and how I wish that it was already
kindled, but I have a baptism to be baptized with and how distressed I am until it is
completed (telesqh|/). Again tele,w is used in association with ritual, though
in this case clearly in a metaphorical sense.29 As with Marks similar query,
Are you able to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?
(10:38), this statement utilizes the polyvalent character of ritual symbolism to
speak figuratively of an experience Jesus was yet to undergo, most likely his
suffering and death, the last stage of his ministry to which he was journeying
in this section of Luke.30 While experiences of suffering are often symbolized
in the OT by overwhelming waters (e.g., 2 Sam 22:5; Ps 69:1-2), Jesus connects
his experience to a use of water as a rite of passage, thereby implying also a
new beginning on the other side of his passion experience. Thus baptism is
used in Luke to interpret, and be itself interpreted by, each of the three main
transitions referred to by Conzelmann: the baptism, the transfiguration, and
the passion.
Johns literal repentance-baptism comes again to the fore at the opening
of the book of Acts, being not only repeatedly referenced as the beginning
of Jesus ministry (Acts 10:37; 13:23-25), but also identified as an essential
qualification of the candidates for apostleship (1:21-22). As in Luke, repentance
continues to be coupled with baptism, as attested by Peters words, Repent
. . . and be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your
sins (2:38; cf. 22:16). This ritual in Acts, however, gains additional layers
of meaning, becoming above all a baptism in the name of Jesus, entered
into by those who believed the apostles witness of him (e.g., 2:17-41; 8:12;
16:14-15, 30-33; 18:8).31 Thus Christian baptism comes to represent in Acts
29
Interestingly, the remaining three uses of tele,w in Luke-Acts are also in
reference to the distressing events Jesus must complete in Jerusalem (Luke 18:31;
22:37; Acts 13:29. See also the use of the term teleio,w with a similar meaning in Luke
13:32 and Acts 20:24). Philo uses both tele,w and teleio,w to describe initiations into
the mystery cults and also to metaphorically speak of the initiation of an individual
to the mysteries of God (Abr. 1.122; Mos. 2.150; Spec. Laws 1.319, 323). These
metaphorical uses of ritual terminology seem to assume that the intended audience
would recognize such allusions and illustrates the diverse and flexible ways in which
shared rite-of-passage experiences could be used in ancient literature (cf. Plutarch,
Flam. 10.323).
30
Duncan M. Derrett, Christs Second Baptism (Luke 12:50; Mk 10:38-40),
ExpTim 100/8 (1989): 294-295. Possibly in the context of the symbol of fire in 12:49,
the figurative reference to baptism is also meant to recall the baptism of fire promised
by John (Luke 3:16).
31
G. R. Beasley-Murray, Baptism in the New Testament (London: Macmillan, 1962),
100; Joel B. Green, From Johns Baptism to Baptism in the Name of the Lord
Jesus: The Significance of Baptism in Luke-Acts, in Baptism, the New Testament and the
255
the pivotal act in a new believers transition to allegiance to Christ, as well as

a welcome into fellowship in the Christian community. 32 The further baptism
of the Holy Spirit, earlier promised by John (Luke 3:16), is recalled here in
Jesuss prophecy of the initial coming of the Spirit upon his Jewish followers
(Acts 1:8; 2:1-4), and in Peters description of how the Spirit first fell upon
the Gentiles in the household of Cornelius (11:16).33 Johns own baptism is,
in Acts, considered incomplete (19:1-5; cf. 18:24-26).
The Function of Rituals in the Narrative
Literature of Lukes Day
Because authors of the day rarely gave attention to routine rites of passage,
their occasional mention signals the likelihood that their inclusion functioned
toward some purpose. Five purposes can be hypothesized for Lukes unusually
concentrated attention to ritual: (1) the addition of drama and interest, drawing
audiences into the work; (2) the recounting of an unusual occurrence at the
time of the rite; (3) the foreshadowing of future greatness; (4) the grounding
of new practice in proper ritual tradition; and (5) a pivotal transition point for
the text as a whole. Such hypotheses can be constructed by a close reading of
the Lukan text itself, but additionally it is valuable to consider the use of ritual
in other narrative literature of the time in order to confirm those narrative
functions of ritual that might have been familiar to the writer of Luke-Acts.
At times the curious nature of the rite itself can be seen to add drama and
interest, drawing audiences into the work. This is evident in Luciuss initiation
into the mystery religion of Isis in Apuleiuss Metamorphoses, in which
Apuleius tantalizes his audience with suspenseful hints and details regarding
this most secret of rites (Metam. 11.22-24). Such also is the case in Plutarchs
portrayal of the royal initiation of the Persian priests that Artaxerxes received
upon his accession to kingship (Art. 3.1-4). In this rare Greek description
of a barbarian rite, Artaxerxes enters the sanctuary of a warlike goddess,
donning the robe of the great Cyrus the Elder, eating and drinking strange and
symbolic substances, and engaging in other doings unknown to outsiders.
Luke-Acts, in contrast to Metamorphoses and Artaxerxes, gives little
attention to the details of the rituals mentioned, which suggests that the
purpose for their inclusion in this work goes beyond the factor of curiosity.
Church, ed. Stanley E. Porter and Anthony R. Cross, JSNTSup 171 (Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 1999).
32
Those who participated are spoken of as being added to the group of
believers (2:41, 44). An interesting similarity in Greco-Roman ritual practice is the
reenactment of a foundational story and the identification of the participant with
the protagonist of the story in the initiation rituals into some mystery religions. See
Collins, 55.
33
The actual arrival of the Holy Spirit is at times associated with the act of baptism
in Acts, though never as its direct result (8:14-17; 9:17-18; 10:44-48; 19:5-6).
256
One additional aspect noted in the ritual account of Artaxerxess initiation

does, however, evidence a second similarity to the Lukan use of ritual. Here,
as in Lukes account of Jesus baptism and anointing, Plutarch takes the
opportunity to speak not only of the initiation, but of an unusual occurrence
which took place at the time of the rite when Artaxerxess brother was accused of
attempting to waylay and kill him. Such a recounting of unusual occurrences
taking place in connection with a rite is a frequent function of ancient riteof-passage accounts. At times these occurrences represent obstacles to be
overcome (cf. Suetonius, Cal. 4.10), but at others they are positive occurrences
that are manifestly supernatural in nature.
Portents foreshadowing the future destiny of an individual are a third function
that is often depicted in the context of ritual. For example, Plutarchs Numa,
before accepting the kingship of Rome, shows proper piety in insisting on the
enactment of a traditional rite, which involved observing the flights of birds
in order to obtain a portent of future success. Numas search is rewarded
when the auspicious species appears, approaching appropriately from the
right (Num. 7.38.3). Suetonius, too, at the time of Galbas toga virilis rite,
marking his transition from childhood to young manhood, portrays the future
emperor dreaming that the goddess Fortuna was speaking to him, announcing
that she was tired of standing before his door, and that unless she were
quickly admitted, she would fall a prey to the first comer (Galb. 7.4-5; cf. also
Nero 6.7-8.).34
As with these other narrative accounts, Luke-Acts portrays rites of
passage, during which humans are seeking the blessing of the gods, as
particularly appropriate for such heavenly manifestations. Charles Talbert
has noted numerous portents in Luke 14, a number of which are set in
the context of ritual, including Zachariass incense-burning, during which an
angel appears to announce Johns birth; the infancy rites of both John and of
Jesus, at which the Holy Spirit fills a bystander, who gives revelations about
the childs future; the Passover, at which Jesus demonstrates his precocious
understanding; and Jesus anointing, in which the Holy Spirit and a voice of
affirmation descend upon him from the open heavens.35
While the highlighting of an unusual occurrence and the foreshadowing
of future greatness further elucidate several of the ritual accounts in Luke
14, these do not fully explain the concentration of divinely attended rites in
this section nor explain the later presence of rites with no association to such
For information on the toga virilis rite, see J. Albert Harrill, Coming of Age and
Putting on Christ: The Toga Virilis Ceremony, Its Paraenesis, and Pauls Interpretation
of Baptism in Luke-Acts, NovT 44 (2002): 252277.
35
Charles Talbert explores these Lukan portents (Prophecies of Future
Greatness: The Contribution of Greco-Roman Biographies to an Understanding of
Luke 1:54:15, in The Divine Helmsman, ed. J. L. Crenshaw and S. Sandmel [New York:
Ktav, 1980], 129-141).
34
257
portents. In this category, for example, is Johns baptism of the people, during
which no divine manifestations are reported to occur, as well as the ongoing
patterns that echo from this baptism all the way to the end of Acts. These
aspects of the Lukan use of ritual are more fully explained by a fourth function
of ritual accounts, observable in the narrative literature. In these cases, ritual
accounts can be seen to respond to the cultural reverence for tradition evident
in both the Jewish and Greco-Roman cultures by demonstrating that what was
newly begun had its origins in properly enacted ritual tradition.
Josephus, in his brief Vita, a work which leaves out significant periods of
his life, notably takes the time to portray a ritualized transition from boyhood
(avnti,paij) to public adult life (politeu,omai). In this passage, he appeals to
traditions his audience knew and even expected in association with such a
life transition in order to provide appropriate foundations for his depiction
of himself as a heroic Jewish general and a worthy representative of the
ancient heritage of Judaism (Vita 1012).36 Thus Josephus claims that at the
age of 16the traditional time of transition to adulthood in Greco-Roman
culturehe devoted himself to rigorous training under the three main Jewish
sects, just as young men on the verge of adulthood in Greco-Roman narrative
literature often became disciples themselves to the various philosophical
schools. Still unsatisfied, Josephus says, he apprenticed himself to a hermit in
the wilderness, immersing himself in an isolated environment reminiscent of
that of Moses before his deliverance of Israel, and noting also the similarity
of his training to the young men of classical Athens and Sparta during
their military initiation to adulthood.37 Philo, referencing a different ritual
transition, augments, for his Greco-Roman audience, the impressiveness of
Moses transition to leadership by describing it in terms of the well-known
and respected initiation into the secrets and priesthood of a mystery cult (Gig.
5354).
Plutarch, too, in his Parallel Lives, pauses to demonstrate that Theseuss
pious travels to Delphi to offer some of his hair to the god was a practice
that remained in his day as a custom for youth who were coming of age
(Thes. 5.1). Immediately following this rite, Theseus successfully undergoes
various ordeals, journeying through wilderness areas on his way to Athens,
conquering the wicked creatures that lived there. (Such a facing of ordeals
is an aspect common in certain rites of passage and can be seen in Lukes
36
A convincing discussion of Josephuss purposes in the Vita can be found in
Life, vol. 9, Flavius Josephus: Translation and Commentary, ed. Steve N. Mason (Leiden:
Brill, 2001), xlviil; cf. Per Bilde, Flavius Josephus between Jerusalem and Rome: His Life, His
Works and Their Importance (Sheffield: JSOT, 1988), 110-113; and Jerome H. Neyrey,
Josephus Vita and the Encomium: A Native Model of Personality, JSJ 25/2 (1994):
177-206. Steve Mason also discusses this passage as a transition to public life (Was
Josephus a Pharisee: A Re-Examination of Life 1012, JJS 40 (1989): 40.
37
Exod 2:15; 3:1; cf. Philo, Ant. 2.255-256, 264-278.
258
depiction of Jesus overcoming of the wilderness temptations following his

baptism.)
For Luke, the addition of the infancy narrative to Marks portrayal of the
baptism at the beginning of the Gospel leads the audience, as in the examples
above, to understand that the lives of John and of Jesus grew out of a
devoted observance of ritualof incense, infancy, and Passoverstipulated
by God himself, as recorded in the Law. These unimpeachable foundations
for ministry are further confirmed by the divine visitations at the time of their
ritual enactments.38
Johns baptism in Luke 3 does not fit as obviously into this pattern, for
it was not performed along the lines of any single anciently prescribed ritual,
although baptism did have strong traditional ritual connections, as noted
above. 39 Most important in Luke-Acts, however, is that Johns baptism, with
its roots in older ritual practices and its initiation and visitation by God, is
portrayed as the traditional practice, repeatedly recalled, which itself gives
authority to the Christian baptism central to the narrative of Acts.
Finally, both direct references and metaphorical links to Johns baptism in
Luke-Acts highlight its importance as a pivotal point in the Lukan text as a whole.
Although rites of passage by their very nature stand at the transition between
one stage and the next in the lives of an individual or group, in Luke and
certain narrative literature of his time they also function as significant turning
points for the narrative as a whole. This is evident, for example, in the events
surrounding the mystery initiation of Lucius in the Metamorphoses, beginning
with his transformation from donkey back to man, during which his ill-fated
wanderings are replaced with a blessed life of devotion to Isis. Luke-Acts
similarly presents Johns baptism as a pivotal transition not in the narrative
of a single individual, but in the summing up of history as a whole. This can
be seen not only in Jesus statement that The Law and the Prophets were
proclaimed until John; since that time the gospel of the kingdom of God has
been preached (Luke 16:16), but also in Peters statement to Cornelius in
Acts 10:37: You know what has happened throughout all Judea, beginning in
Galilee after the baptism of John (cf. Luke 7:18-35; 20:1-8).40
38
This powerful ritual grounding stands together with the piety of the two
families, so important in the ancient evaluation of character, which has been already
noted by Luke in the description of the blameless Zacharias and Elizabeth (1:6). See,
e.g., Fitzmyer, 316.
39
Indeed Lukes use of the term bapti,zw in Luke 11:38, with regard to the
Pharisees insistence on the ritual cleansing of hands (the LXX uses the verb ba,ptw)
may recall these ancient Jewish practices.
40
While Conzelmann, 22, 57, 146-149, overemphasized an exact moment for his
theorized transition from a period of Israel and the prophets to a new era in salvation
history, which he called the period of Jesus, this does not negate the pivotal place given
to John and his baptism in the reconstruction of history portrayed in Luke-Acts.
259
Conclusion
With the institution of Johns baptism and the associated anointing of Jesus,
reports of traditionally grounded ritual, so central to Luke 14, largely cease.
Ritual connections continue to be important, however, above all, in the
reinforcing and enriching of the newly woven tradition of baptism, for which
Johns divinely initiated and traditionally rooted baptism forms a foundation
and pivotal point.
It is evident that Luke-Acts gives unusual attention to rites of passage in
comparison with the other canonical Gospels and other narrative literature of
the day. By considering uses of ritual accounts in the narrative literature of the
day, five functions have been discovered that help to explain the various ritual
uses in Luke-Acts: (1) the addition of drama and interest drawing audiences
into the work, (2) the recounting of an unusual occurrence at the time of
the rite, (3) the foreshadowing of future greatness, (4) the grounding of new
practice in proper ritual tradition, and (5) a pivotal transition point for the
text as a whole.
There is much rich work yet to be done in the study of ritual in LukeActs, including further exploration of the meanings and associations evoked
for ancient audiences by the various aspects of these ritual accounts. What
is provided here is the recognition that the prevalence of rites of passage in
Luke-Acts is not just happenstance, but that, above all, through ritual, LukeActs demonstrates, that the pivotal events of this new era both for the church
of Christ and for individual believers are properly begun and grounded in
tradition. In the case of baptism and Jesus anointing, these traditions have
been further demonstrated to be rewoven to their new and particular purposes
by the ritualizing activity of God himself.

THE LORDS DAY OF REVELATION 1:10

IN THE CURRENT DEBATE
Ranko Stefanovic
Andrews University
John the Revelator begins the main body of his avpoka,luyij vIhsou/ Cristou/
by stating that he was on the island of Patmos in tribulation because of
his faithful testimony to the gospel. He states further that, while there, he
came to be evn pneu,mati evn th/| kuriakh/| h`me,ra| (Rev 1:10), at which time he
encountered the resurrected Christ. The phrase evn pneu,mati unequivocally
refers to the first visionary experience the Revelator had on Patmos (cf. 4:2;
17:3; 21:10). He was about to be shown a representation of events and forces
affecting Gods people, which were already at work in his own time and would
lead into the time of the end.
The phrase evn th/| kuriakh/| h`me,ra| has been widely debated among
expositors of the Apocalypse in the last fifty yearsparticularly during the
1960s, when there were a number of exchanges of opinions in scholarly
journals.1 The difficulty with this enigmatic expression is twofold. First, it is a
hapax legomenon: the exact phrase in Greek occurs nowhere else in the NT, the
LXX, or in early Christian writings (coinciding with the time of the writing of
Revelation). Second, the context does not give any indication, or even a hint,
regarding which day of the week the text is referring to. In addition, Christian
sources contemporaneous with Revelation are not particularly helpful.
Furthermore, there is no occurrence of the adjective kuriako,j in the
LXX.2 Formerly, the word was considered as Christian in origin; however,
it has been attested in Greek papyri and inscriptions preceding Christianity.3
1
C. W. Dugmore, The Lords Day and Easter, Neotestamentica et Patristica in
honorem sexagenarii O. Cullmann, Supplements to Novum Testamentum 6 (Leiden: Brill, 1962),
272-281; Fritz Guy, The Lords Day in the Letter of Ignatius to the Magnesians,
AUSS 2 (1964): 1-17; Lawrence T. Geraty, The Pascha and the Origin of Sunday
Observance, AUSS 3 (1965): 85-96; Wilfrid Stott, A Note on the Word kyriak in
Rev. 1.10, NTS 12 (1965): 70-75. For a response to Stott, see Kenneth A. Strand,
Another Look at Lords Day in the Early Church and in Rev. 1.10, NTS 13 (1966):
174-181; see also Paul K. Jewett, The Lords Day (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1971),
57-67; R. J. Bauckham, The Lords Day, in From Sabbath to Lords Day: A Biblical,
Historical, and Theological Investigation, ed. D. A. Carson (Grand Rapids: Zondervan,
1982), 221-250.
2
The adjective kuriako,j occurs in the LXX only in 2 Macc 15:36 in association
with the word fwnh,. However, there is a variant reading Suriakh/|, noted by Edwin
Hatch and Henry A. Redpath (A Concordance to the Septuagint and Other Greek Versions of
the Old Testament, 3 vols. [Grand Rapids: Baker, 1987], 2:800).
3
Adolf Deissmann shows that the word was common in Egypt and Asia Minor,
where it meant imperial. Almost all known usages are in connection with imperial
261
262
Although there are some rare examples of secular usage of the word in
Greco-Roman sources, kuriako,j was almost exclusively used with reference
to imperial administration. Thus it is not difficult to see how the word was
adopted by early Christians to mean belonging to the Lord Jesus Christ as a
part of a resistance against emperor worship. In the NT, it is used by Paul in 1
Cor 11:20 as an adjective in the Lords supper (kuriako.n dei/pnon). However,
in the late second century the word was used by the Patristic authors only with
qualifying nouns that exclusively referred to Christ: e.g., lo,goj( lo,gia( grafai(
o[pla( ai-ma(, sw/ma(, dei/pnovn( fwnh,( evntolhai,( and parousi,a.4 In the same
manner, in Revelation kuriako,j is an adjective (the Lords), clearly qualifying
h`me,ra as the Lords day.
In the contemporary debate, there are two major approaches used to
interpret the expression kuriakh. h`me,ra. Most commentators, ancient and
modern, believe it refers to a literal weekly day. This approach, which boasts
a consensus among most scholars, interprets the expression as referring to
Sunday, the first day of the week. Several alternative proposals have been
suggested. They range from Easter Sunday and Emperors Day to the
seventh-day Sabbath, the latter held generally by Seventh-day Adventists. In
the second approach, scholars maintain that kuriakh. h`me,ra refers figuratively
to the eschatological day of the Lord.
The purpose of this article is to review and evaluate these major
proposals and to suggest a plausible meaning of the enigmatic expression
kuriakh. h`me,ra in the Apocalypse.
Kuriakh. h`me,ra as Sunday
The prevailing view among ancient and modern commentators is that kuriakh.
h`me,ra refers to Sunday, the first day of the week.5 The main argument presented
finance, where kuriako,j qualifies nouns such as [Lords] treasury and [Lords]
service (Light from the Ancient East, 2d ed. [Grand Rapids: Baker, 1965], 357-358);
also idem, Bible Studies (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1903), 217-218; see also W. H. P.
Hatch, Some Illustrations of New Testament Usage from Greek Inscriptions of Asia
Minor, JBL 27 (1908): 138.
4
Cf. Deissman, Bible Studies, 222-224; Stott, 71.
5
E.g., Henry Alford, The Greek Testament, 3d ed. (Chicago: Moody Press, 1958),
4:554-555; Henry B. Swete, The Apocalypse of St. John (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1951),
13; Deissmann, Light from the Ancient East, 357; Robert H. Charles, A Critical and
Exegetical Commentary on the Revelation of St. John, ICC (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1920),
22-23; Stott, 70-75; Robert H. Mounce, The Book of Revelation, 2d ed., NICNT (Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 55-56; George E. Ladd, A Commentary on the Revelation of
John (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1972), 31; Bauckham, 221-250; Leon Morris, The Book
of Revelation, 2d ed., TNTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987), 52; Elisabeth Schssler
Fiorenza, Revelation: Vision of a Just World, Proclamation Commentaries (Minneapolis:
Fortress, 1991), 50; Robert L. Thomas, Revelation 17: An Exegetical Commentary
The Lords Day of Revelation 1:10 . . .
263
in support of this view is that from the second century Christian writers used
this term with reference to Sunday because Jesus was resurrected on this day.
It is undeniable that later in history Sunday became known as the Lords
day. Kuriakh. h`me,ra and the short form kuriakh, became the designation for
Sunday among Greek-speaking authors, while dis Dominica, derived from the
Vulgate text, became the name for Sunday in ecclesiastical Latin.6 However,
all the references to Sunday as the Lords day were used nearly one century
after Revelation was written. As such, they cannot be regarded as evidence
for determining the meaning of kuriakh. h`me,ra as Sunday at the time of the
writing of Revelation.
However, two early second-century Christian writings, Didache and the
letter of Ignatius of Antioch to the Magnesians, are commonly regarded as
the strongest evidences for an early usage of kuriakh. h`me,ra with reference
to Sunday.7 It is necessary, therefore, to take a closer look at the two texts to
find the meaning behind the adjectival term used in them.
Didache (known as The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles) is an early instructional
manual, dated from the late first century to the late second century. Most
scholars today are in favor of the earlier date. The statement of interest is
found in Codex Hierosolyminatanus (Codex C, or H in some editions), the
only surviving complete Greek manuscript of the document, which reads as
follows:
Didache: Kata. kuriakh.n de. kuri,ou sunacqe,ntej kla,sate a;rton kai.
euvcaristh,sate, . . .
Lightfoots translation: On the Lords own day gather together and break
bread and give thanks, [having first confessed your sins so that your sacrifice
may be pure.]8
(Chicago: Moody Press, 1992), 90-92; David E. Aune, Revelation 15, WBC 52a (Waco:
Word, 1997), 83-84; Gregory K. Beale, The Book of Revelation, NIGTC (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 1998), 203; Christopher C. Rowland, The Book of Revelation, in NIB
(Nashville: Abingdon, 1998), 12:566; Stephen S. Smalley, The Revelation to John: A
Commentary on the Greek Text of the Apocalypse (Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 2005), 51;
Brian K. Blount, Revelation: A Commentary, NTL (Louisville: Westminster John Knox,
2009), 43.
6
Walter F. Specht, Sunday in the New Testament, in The Sabbath in Scripture and
History, ed. Kenneth A. Strand (Washington, DC: Review and Herald, 1982), 126.
7
Bauckham, 223, lists thirteen second-century references in which kuriakh. h`me,ra
or kuriakh. allegedly mean the Lords day. It is important to note that only two of
these references, the Didache and Ignatiuss To the Magnesians, are from the early second
century, and all others come from the late second century.
8
Did. 14.1, The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Text and English Translations of Their Writings,
trans. J. B. Lightfoot and J. R. Harmer, 3d ed., ed. Michael W. Holmes (Grand Rapids:
Baker, 2007), 364-365 (unless otherwise noted, all further reference to the Apostolic
Fathers will come from this edition). Cf. also Bart D. Ehrman, Apostolic Fathers: English
264
It should be noted here that the text reads kata. kuriakh.n de. kuri,ou. The
substantive day (h`me,ran in the accusative case) does not appear in the text,
but rather is supplied by the translators and is rendered, on the Lords day.
However, there is no textual evidence that would warrant such a reading of the
text, which is an obvious stretch. Nor does the context indicate that the Lords
day is intended. Strong evidence suggests, however, that the phrase could rather
mean kata. kuriakh.n didach.n,9 kata. kuriakh.n evntolh.n, or kata. kuriakh.n
o`don (according to the Lords teaching, . . . command, or . . . way).
The next alleged evidence is the letter To the Magnesians, attributed to
Ignatius of Antioch, who died between 98 and 117.10 The letter deals with,
among other things, the issue of Judaizing, a series of Jewish practices
that continuously caused disputes in Christian communities. The author
admonishes the Magnesians: If we continue to live in accordance with
Judaism, we admit that we have not received grace.11 It is in this context that
Ignatius gives the following warning:
Ignatius: Eiv ou=n oi` evn palaioi/j pra,gmasin avnastrafe,ntej eivj kaino,thta
evlpi,doj h=lqon( mhke,ti sabbati,zontej avlla kata. kuriakh.n zw/ntej( evn
h|- kai. h` zwh. h`mw/n avne,teilen di v auvtou/ kai. tou/ qana,tou auvtou/( o[n
tinej avrnou/ntai( di v ou- musthri,ou evla,bomen to. pisteu,ein( kai. dia.
tou/to u`pome,nomen( i[na eu`reqw/men maqhtai. VIhsou/ Cristou/ tou/ mo,nou
didaska,lou h`mw/n.)
Lightfoots translation: If, then, those who had lived in antiquated practices
came to newness of hope, no longer keeping the Sabbath but living in
accordance with the Lords day, on which our life also arose through him
and his death [which some deny], the mystery through which we came to
believe, and because of which we patiently endure, in order that we might
be found to be disciples of Jesus Christ, our teacher.12
The common understanding of the phrase mhke,ti sabbati,zontej avlla

kata. kuriakh.n is that Ignatius bade the Magnesians to give up the Sabbath
and Greek, LCL (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2003), 1:438.
9
See Samuele Bacchiocchi, From Sabbath to Sunday: A Historical Investigation of the
Rise of Sunday Observance in Early Christianity (Rome: Pontifical Gregorian University
Press, 1977), 114, n. 73; Kenneth A. Strand, The Lords Day in the Second Century,
in The Sabbath in Scripture and History, ed. Kenneth A. Strand (Washington, DC: Review
and Herald, 1982), 346, 351, n. 16. On the other hand, Bauckham, 227-228, has doubts
concerning the addition of didach.n, since he believes that the Apostolic Constitutions
7.30.1 (fourth century), which interpreted the Didache, has h`me,ra with kuriakh,.
10
Ign. Magn. (Apostolic Fathers, 202-213). Our knowledge of the circumstance
within which Ignatiuss letters were written is drawn from the letter itself, as well as
from Eusebius (Hist. eccl. 3.36; NPNF 2, 1:166-169]).
11
Ign. Magn. 8.1 (Apostolic Fathers, 207-209): eiv ga.r me,cri nu/n kata. Vioudai.smon
zw/men( o`mologou/men ca,rin mh. eivlhfe,nai (see also 10.3; Ign. Phld. 6.1).
12
Ign. Magn. 9.1 (Apostolic Fathers, 208-209).
265
and observe the Lords day, which was presumably Sunday.13 However, as in
the case of the Didache, the Greek text does not read kuriakh.n h`me,ran, but
rather kata. kuriakh.n (according to the Lords) without the substantive
h`me,ran. In this case as well, the word day is supplied by the translators.
making the phrase read: On the Lords day.
The statement under consideration comes from the commonly accepted
Greek edition of the middle recension of the Ignatian letters.14 The only
surviving Greek manuscript of the middle recension, Codex G (Codex Mediceus
Laurentius), considered to be the parent of other Greek manuscripts in existence
today as well as the Latin translations,15 actually reads kata. kuriakh.n zwh.n
(according with the Lords life). However, the Greek text, reconstructed by
modern editors and which serves as the basis for English translations, omits the
substantive zwh.n after kata. kuriakh.n. Such a reading bears an obvious impact
on the common understanding of the meaning of kata. kuriakh.n. Since the
two expressions sabbati,zw and kuriakh.n do not occur elsewhere in the Ignatian
letters, the readers are left to choose which of the two words, zwh.n (supported
by the best manuscripts) or h`me,ran (as a conjecture), fits the context.16
On the basis of a careful analysis of the usage of kuriako,j in early
Christian writings, Richard Bauckham notes a variety of meanings for
the word, which must be determined from the sense and context in any
particular case.17 Several careful studies have shown that, in this case, the
manuscript and contextual evidence are both on the side of the substantive
zwh.n.18 After having carefully compared and critically examined the Ignatian
13
Guy, 10, mentions the theological bias of the translator in weighting the validity of
the ancient manuscripts. R. B. Lewis demonstrates how the passage has been translated
differently, with scholars expressing obvious theological bias. For example: Robert and
Donaldson, the editors of ANF: no longer observing sabbaths but fashioning their
lives after the Lords Day; Lake: no longer living for the Sabbath, but for the Lords
day; Kleist: no longer observe the Sabbath, but regulate their calendar by the Lords
Day; Goodspeed: no longer keeping the Sabbath but observing the Lords Day;
Richardson: They ceased to keep the Sabbath and lived by the Lords day; Grant: no
longer keeping the Sabbath [cf. Isa 1:13] but living in accordance with the Lords [day, cf.
Rev 1:10] (Ignatius and the Lords Day, AUSS 6 [1968]: 55-56, brackets original).
14
There are three basic forms of the letters, referred to as the short, middle, and
long recensions. The multiplexity of forms created debates over the authenticity of
the letters. Today, the seven letters of the middle recension are generally considered
to be authentic (Holmes, 171-173; see Virginia Corwin, St. Ignatius and Christianity
in Antioch [New Haven: Yale University Press, 1960]; Johannes Quasten, Patrology
[Utrecht: Spectrum, 1950], 1:74; also Ehrman, 1:209-213]).
15
See Quasten, 1:74; Holmes, 185; Guy, 17.
16
Lewis, 51-52.
17
Bauckham, 224.
18
See Guy, 7-17; cf. Lewis, 48-53.
266
manuscripts available today, Fritz Guy concludes that the evidence favors the
longer reading kata. kuriakh.n zwh.n, that the evidence for kata. kuriakh.n
instead of kata. kuriakh.n zwh.n is very weak, and that the latter is most likely
the original.19 A similar conclusion has been reached by other scholars.20
The contextual evidence seems to be in favor of zwh.n rather than
h`me,ran.21 The statements that precede and follow the passage in question
help to clarify further the meaning of the enigmatic Ignatian statement:
Magn. 8.1-2 For if we continue to live in accordance with Judaism (kata.
Iv oudai.mon zw/men), we admit that we have not received grace. For the most
godly prophets lived in accordance with Jesus Christ. This is why they were
persecuted.22
Magn. 9.1-2 If, then, those who had lived in ancient practices came to
newness of hope, no longer sabbatizing but living in accordance with the
Lords [life] (kata. kuriakh.n zw/ntej), in which our life also arose through
him and his death. . . . how shall we be able to live without him, of whom
also the prophets, who were his disciples in the Spirit, were looking for as
their teacher?23
Magn. 10.1 Therefore, having become his disciples, let us learn to live in
accordance with Christianity (kata. Cristianismo.n zh/n).24
Guy, 2-17; see also Lewis, 46-59. On the basis of the evidence, Lewis, 58, concludes
that the expression the Lords day is theologically biased and artificially forced into
the text for the purpose of supporting an early use of the term for Sunday.
19
Lewis, 56-58, quotes three nineteenth-century Sunday advocates, who saw serious
weakness in the Lords day as Sunday arguments in Ignatiuss letter. E.g., B. Powell, who
declared that the passage from Ignatius is confessedly obscure, and the text may be
corrupt, noted that On this view the passage does not refer at all to the Lords day;
but even on the opposite supposition it cannot be regarded as affording any positive
evidence to the early use of the term Lords day (for which it is often cited), since
the material word h`me,ra is purely conjectural (Lords Day, in Cyclopedia of Biblical
Literature, ed. John Kitto [New York: Mark H. Newman,1835], 2:270).
21
I am indebted for this idea to Guy, 13-14, and R. A. Kraft, Sabbath in Early
Christianity, AUSS 3 (1965): 28-29. Cf. Strand, Another Look at Lords Day, 179.
22
Lightfoots translation of 8.1-2: eiv ga.r me,cri nu/n kata. vIoudaismo.n zw/men(
o`mologou/men ca,rin mh. eivlhfe,nai) oiv gar` qeiotatoi profhtai kata. Cristo.n
VIhsou/n e;zhsa/n) dia. tou/to kai. evdiw,cqhsan.
23
My translation of 9.1-2: Eiv ou=n oi` evn palaioi/j pra,gmasin avnastrafe,ntej eivj
kaino,thta evlpi,doj h=lqon( mhke,ti sabbati,zontej avlla kata. kuriakh.n zw/ntej( evn
h|- kai. h` zwh. h`mw/n avne,teilen di v auvtou/ kai. tou/ qana,tou auvtou/( ) ) ) pw/j h`mei/j
donhso,meqa zh/sai cwri.j auvtou/( ou- kai. oi` profh/tai maqhtai. o;ntej tw|/ pneu,mati(
w`j dida,skalon auto.n prosedo,kwn;
24
Lightfoots translation of 10.1: di.a tou/to( maqhtai. auvtou/ geno,menoi( ma,qwmen
kata.. Cristianismo.n zh/n.
20
267
This closer look at the text shows that Ignatius contrasts two different
ways of livingone apart from grace [judaizing], the other in the power of
the resurrection life.25 The according to (kata,) construction used in these
three comparative passages contrasts living in accordance with Judaism with
living in accordance with Jesus Christ (8.2) and/or living in accordance
with Christianity (10.1). This suggests that the text that comes between (9.1)
should read as living in accordance with the Lords life. Thus Sabbatizing
most likely does not mean Sabbath observance, but rather the keeping of the
Sabbath in accordance with Judaism.26
Furthermore, the persons whom Ignatius is referring to in 9.1those
who had lived in ancient practices . . . no longer sabbatizing but living in
accordance with the Lords [life]are actually the ancient Hebrew prophets
(clearly stated in 8.2 and 9.2).
As Robert A. Kraft correctly points out, Ignatius warns the Magnesians in
Asia Minor not to live in accord with Judaism but to follow the insight which
even the divine prophets of old had received through Gods grace and to live
in accord with Christ Jesus, Gods Son and Gods Logos sent to man.27
In referring to the most godly prophets who lived in accordance
with Jesus Christ, Ignatius most likely had in mind the passages from the
prophets, such as Isa 1:13-17, which indicted the peoples outwardly ritualistic
observance of the Sabbath, much as Jesus did with reference to the Pharisaic
observance of the Sabbath according to the Synoptics (cf. Matt 12:1-13;
Mark 2:233:5; Luke 6:1-11). Ignatius might have also been thinking of Isa
56:1-8 and 58:13-14, which urged the people to observe the Sabbath.28 This
is probably the best way to understand how the ancient prophets lived in
accordance with Jesus Christ. Such an assertion is fully supported by Krafts
reading of the Ignatian passage, which, in Krafts view, is most likely the
original second-century reading:
If, then, those who walked in the ancient customs [i.e., the aforementioned
prophets] came to have a new hope, no longer sabbatizing but living in
accord with the Lords lifein which life there sprang up also our life
through him and through his death . . . how shall we be able to live
apart from him, of whom the prophets also were disciples, since they
had received him as teacher in the spirit? Wherefore, he whom they justly
awaited when he arrived, raised them from the dead. . . . Thus, we should
be his discipleswe should learn to live in accord with Christianity. . . . It
Kraft, 28.
Lewis, 50-51; so also Bauckham, 229; contrary to Willy Rordorf, Sunday: The
History of the Day of Rest and Worship in the Earliest Centuries of the Christian Church
(Philadelphia, PA: Westminster, 1968), 210-211.
27
Kraft, 27; see also Guy, 1.
28
If Ignatius indeed had Isaiah in mind, he would have accepted the unity of the
book, and thereby would have ascribed Isaiah 56 and 58 to the author of Isaiah 1.
25
26
268

is absurd to proclaim Jesus Chrsit and to judaize. For Christianity has not
placed its trust in Judaism, but vice-versa.29
After taking a closer look at the evidence, one might conclude that
Ignatius does not appear to urge the Magnesians to refrain from observing
the Sabbath and to live according to the Lords day, presumably Sunday, but
rather to live according with the Lords life.30 At this point, Richard B. Lewis
correctly observes that
it is almost certain, if we are to avoid absurdity in our treatment of
Magnesian 9, that sabbatizing is equivalent to the idea of Judaizing, a practice
which could be avoided even while keeping the Sabbath. This is the only
feasible explanation inasmuch as it is the Sabbath-keeping Old Testament
prophets who are described as no longer sabbatizing. To interpret the next
words of the same passage in such a way as to make the Old Testament
prophets keep Sunday is, of course, equally absurd.31
The context thus shows that the text under consideration does not suggest
a Sabbath/Sunday controversy.32 The burden of Ignatiuss argument was not
to discuss days of worship, but to encourage an observance of the Sabbath in
a spiritual manner. Such a notion fits the historical context; Kenneth Strand
correctly observes that, at least during the earlier period of Christianity,
The anti-Judaizing or anti-Sabbatizing emphasis may not have been involved
with the matter of days at all, but rather with a manner of worship or way
of life; namely, Christian liberty versus Jewish legalism. When this sort of
polemic was first clearly applied to days (again in the early period), it was
used in an effort to encourage a Sabbath observance of spiritual, rather
than merely formal and legalistic, quality.33
Translation from Kraft, 27, brackets and ellipses original.

Regarding the possibility of a cognate accusative (in which a noun in the
accusative is coupled with a participle of the same etymological family, producing an
idiom that often has no literal parallel in English), according to which kata. kuriakh.n
zwh.n zw/ntej could be translated as living a life according to the Lords day, Guy,
10-11 and 16, concludes that living according to the Lords life is warranted by the
context of the passage, the literary style, and the theological emphasis of Ignatius over
the former. See also Bauckham, 228-229.
31
Lewis, 51.
32
Contra Rordorf, 211.
33
Kenneth A. Strand, Some Notes on the Sabbath Fast in Early Christianity,
AUSS 3 (1965): 172. Bauckham, 229, admits that it was not Ignatiuss intent to draw any
real contrast between days as such, but between ways of life (e.g., between sabbatizing,
living according to Jewish legalism, and living according to the resurrection). However,
he believes that the Sabbath is implied in the text as a distinguishing characteristic of
Judaism.
29
30
269
Such an idea is expressed in the expanded version of chapter 9 of To the

Magnesians, which is interpolated by an unknown fourth-century editor:
Let us, therefore no longer keep the Sabbath after the Jewish manner, and
rejoice in days of idleness. . . . But let every one of you keep the Sabbath
after a spiritual manner, rejoicing in meditation on the law, not in relaxation
of the body, admiring the workmanship of God, and not eating things
prepared the day before, nor using lukewarm drinks, and walking within
a prescribed space, nor finding delight in dancing and plaudits which have
no sense in them [reference to well-known Jewish practices with respect to Sabbath].
And after the observance of the Sabbath, let every friend of Christ keep
the Lords Day as a festival, the resurrection-day, the queen and chief of all
days [of the week].34
If there is any conclusion, however, to be drawn from Ignatiuss reference

to sabbatizing (sabbati,zontej), it is that the Christians at that time were still
observing the Sabbath.
On the basis of the foregoing discussion, one might conclude that there
is no conclusive evidence showing that kuriakh. h`me,ra was used for the first
day of the week by Christians in the early second century35 or that would lead
us to the conclusion that the Revelator initiated the expression in question
to mean Sunday. Walter F. Specht correctly observes that the Fourth Gospel,
dated later than Revelation, refers to Sunday as the first day of the week,
something that would seem very unusual if it was already known as the
Lords day.36 In addition, the early anti-Jewish polemical works, including
those of Barnabas (c. 100) and Justin Martyr (c. 110-165), do not use the
term Lords day with reference to Sunday, but rather use the first day of
the week, the eighth day, or Sunday instead as common second-century
Christian designations for Sunday.37
All of the evidence for the alleged understanding of kuriakh. h`me,ra or
the short version kuriakh, from the early Christian era as Sunday actually
34
Pseudo-Ignatius, Magnesians 9.3-4 (ANF 1:62-63; first set of brackets supplied;
second set of brackets original).
35
Joseph Seiss stresses that none of the Christian writings for 100 years after
Christ ever call it [Sunday] the Lords day (The Apocalypse [New York: Charles C.
Cook, 1906], 1:20).
36
Specht, 120, 1.
37
Barn. 15.8-9 (ANF 1:146-147); Justin, Dial. 24, 41, 138 (ANF 1:206, 215, 268);
idem, 1 Apol. 67 (ANF 1:185-186). Here Justin refers to Sunday as th/| tou/ h`li,ou
legome,nh| h`me,ra|, and the day after Saturday h[tij evsti.n h`li,ou h`me,ra. Strand points
to the Latin version of the second-century NT apocryphal Acts John, which makes a
statement regarding John: And on the seventh day, it being the Lords day, he said to
them: Now it is time for me also to partake of food (ANF 8:561). It is particularly
interesting that the text does call the seventh day, rather than Sunday, as the Lords
day (Strand, Sabbath Fast, 180).
270
comes from the late second century.38 The first conclusive evidence of its
usage in reference to Sunday comes from the latter part of the second century
in the apocryphal work The Gospel of Peter.39 The first church father who used
it in the same way was Clement of Alexandria (ca. 190).40 It could be that at
some later time these authors eventually took the familiar phrase, derived from
Revelation, and applied it to Sunday as the first day of the week. However,
the later usage of the expression kuriakh. h`me,ra might not be admissible as
evidence to support the use of this meaning in the first century.
The whole question of the rise of Sunday and the eclipse of Sabbath
observance in the second century is a complex one41 and remains shrouded
in mystery.42 What all historical sources indicate, however, is that until the
fourth and fifth centuries the two days were both observed side-by-side
by the Eastern segment of Christianity, although already at an early period
Sunday observance was urged as the day of rest instead of Sabbath, due
mainly to anti-Jewish sentiments.43 The change from one day to another was
slow and gradual. It was not until the fourth centurydue to several factors,
including theological, ecclesiological, and politicalthat Sunday observance
finally took the place of Sabbath observance.44 What seems very likely is, as
Contra Bauckham, 225, who argues that kuriakh. h`me,ra had been established
early as the common Christian name for Sunday for the purpose of distinguishing
it from h`me,ra tou/ kuri,ou. Bauckham supports his claim with historical evidence.
A. Strobel acknowledges that kuriakh. as a term applied to Sunday represents, as it
is generally acknowledged, a secondary development (Die Passa-Erwartung als
urchristliches Problem in Lc 17.20f, ZNW 49 [1958]: 185, n. 104).
39
Gos. Pet. 9.50: Early in the morning of the Lords day [o;rqrou de. th/j kuriakh/j],
Mary Magdalene, a disciple of the Lord . . . came to the sepulcher (New Testament
Apocrypha, 2d ed., ed. Wilhelm Schneemelcher [Louisville: Westminster John Knox,
1991], 1:224). There is a similarity here to two other apocryphal writings from the
same period: Acts Pet. 29-30, identifies dies dominica with the day after the Sabbath
(Schneemelcher, 2:311), and Acts Paul 7.3 speaks of the apostle as praying on the
sabbath as [kuriakh/|] drew near (Schneemelcher, 2:252).
40
Clement of Alexandria, Strom. 14 (ANF 2:459).
41
Strand, Sabbath Fast, 173.
42
Sigve K. Tonstad, The Lost Meaning of the Sabbath (Berrien Springs: Andrews
University Press, 2009), 301; Rordorf, 301, candidly admits that Nowhere do we
find any evidence which would unambiguously establish where, when, and why the
Christian observance of Sunday arose.
43
Strand, Sabbath Fast, 173. Dugmore, 279, argues that it is a historical fact that
the observance of the Sabbath as a day of Christian worship did not disappear until
the late fourth or early fifth century.
44
The official acceptance of Sunday observance in place of Sabbath, which came
in the fourth to fifth centuries, was due to two major factors: (1) Constantines law
of 321, which requested the urban population to rest on the venerable day of the
38
271
J. Massyngberde Ford candidly admits in her comment on Rev 1:10, that at

the time that Revelation was written most probably the Christian would still
be keeping the Sabbath, the seventh day.45 Questions concerning the change
from Sabbath to Sunday are, however, beyond the scope of this study.
Kuriakh. h`me,ra as Easter Sunday
Another interpretation is that kuriakh. h`me,ra refers to the Christian Passover
or Easter Sunday, as an annual event, rather than the weekly Sunday.46 It
is argued further that it was on the day of the annual celebration of the
resurrection that John was carried in the Spirit to meet the resurrected Christ.
As a representative view, C. W. Dugmore suggests that the sources indicate
that the earliest Christian references to the Lords day are to Easter as an
annual commemoration of the resurrection and that its use for the first day
of every week would only have been possible after Sunday had become a
regular day of worship among Christians.47 In this way, both the observance
of Sunday and its alleged title kuriakh, somehow developed from Easter
Sunday.48 Some have found support for such a possibility in the early churchs
tradition, reported by Jerome in his commentary on Matthew 25, that Christ
would return at midnight on Easter.49 Jerome stated that the apostolic
Sun, while allowing farmers to pursue their agriculture work regardless of the day of
the week (see Codex Justinianus 3.12.3, trans. H. S. Bettenson, Documents of the Christian
Church, 2d ed. [New York: Oxford University Press, 1970], 26). (2) The various Church
Councils, which formally renounced the Sabbath on behalf of Sunday, include Elvira
(a.d. 306), Nicea (a.d. 325), and Laodicea (a.d. 363). The latter urged Christians not
to rest on Sabbath, but instead to honor Sunday as the Lords day and pronounced
anathema on and called Judaizers all who kept observing the Sabbath.
45
J. Massyngberde Ford, Revelation, AB 38 (New York: Doubleday, 1975), 384.
46
E.g., Strobel, 185; Dugmore, 6:272-281; Massyngberde Ford, 384; Strand,
Another Look at Lords Day, 174-181. While Strand argues for the primary
application of kuriakh. h`me,ra to Easter Sunday over the weekly Sunday, he recognizes
that this does not apply to Rev 1:10 due to the fact that Revelation originated in
the Quartodeciman area (ibid., 180); Alan Johnson, Revelation, The Expositors Bible
Commentary 12 (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1982), 425; John P. M. Sweet, Revelation,
TPINTC (Philadelphia, PA: Trinity Press International, 1990), 67.
47
Dugmore, 275-279, argues that Did. 14:1, as interpreted by the fourth-century
document Apostolic Constitutions 7.30, renders explicit support for the meaning of
kuriakh. h`me,ra as a technical term for Easter Sunday; so also Strobel, 185. Dugmores
view has been refuted by Bacchiocchi, 118-121.
48
See Geraty, 85-96.
49
E.g., Friedrich Bleek, Lectures on the Apocalypse (London: Williams & Norgate,
1875), 156; J. A. Bengel wrongly concludes that Jeromes report shows that the early
church expected Christ to return at midnight on Sunday (Gnomon of the New Testament
[Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1877], 201); cf. Stott, 73.
272
tradition [was] continued [so] that on the day of the Passover vigil it is not
permitted to dismiss the people before midnight, as they await the coming of
Christ.50
The Easter Sunday view has been contested and refuted on the basis
of different arguments.51 For instance, Wilfrid Stott argues that the Easter
view does not fit the context of the vision of Christ as the High Priest in the
sanctuary (Rev 1:12-20), which is, in his view, the Day of Atonement. Since
the common name for Easter among early Christians was pa,sca, the context
shows, he argues, that kuriakh. h`me,ra is not connected with the Passover
season, but with the Day of Atonement. This argument is weakened by the
fact that the scene of Christ among the lampstands reflects not the Day of
Atonement, but rather the daily services related to the first apartment of
the Hebrew cult as prescribed in the Mishnah.52 Numerous studies have
demonstrated that the paschal context of Revelation 1 fits neatly into the
context of the entire book of Revelation.53
Bauckham refutes the Easter Sunday view on the basis of the argument
that there is no conclusive evidence that Easter was ever called simply
kuriakh,54 nor that the weekly observance of Sunday and its alleged title
kuriakh, developed from the annual religious festival of Easter Sunday. Any
50
Jerome, Comm. Matt. 4:25.6, in St. Jerome: Commentary on Matthew, trans. Thomas
P. Scheck, The Fathers of the Church: A New Translation 117 (Washington, DC:
Catholic University of America Press, 2008), 283; cf. Migne, PL 26:192.
51
The Easter-Sunday view has been refuted by Strand, Another Look at Lords
Day, 175-181; Bauckham, 230-231; Bacchiocchi, 118-123.
52
The scene of Christ among the seven lampstands evokes ordered priestly
officiation: trimming and refilling the lamps that were still burning or removing the
wick and old oil from the lamps that had gone out, supplying them with fresh oil, and
relighting them (see m. Tamid 3:9, in Mishna, trans. Herbert Danby [London: Oxford
University Press, 1933], 585; also Alfred Edersheim, The Temple: Its Ministry and Services,
updated ed. [Peabody: Hendrickson, 1994], 125).
53
See M. D. Goulder, The Apocalypse as an Annual Cycle of Prophecies, NTS
27 (1981): 342-367; T. Niles, As Seeing the Invisible (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1961),
119-125; Richard M. Davidson, Sanctuary Typology, in Symposium on RevelationBook
1, Daniel and Revelation Committee Series 6 (Silver Spring, MD: Biblical Research
Institute, 1992), 121-122; Jon Paulien, The Role of the Hebrew Cultus, Sanctuary,
and Temple in the Plot and Structure of the Book of Revelation, AUSS 33 (1995):
247-255; Ranko Stefanovic, Revelation of Jesus Christ: Commentary on the Book of Revelation,
2d ed. (Berrien Springs: Andrews University Press, 2009), 32, 34.
54
Bauckham, 231, overlooks the fact that Irenaeuss document Fragments from the
Lost Writings of Irenaeus, which dates to 170, refers to Easter Sunday as kuriakh. (see
ANF, 1:569-570).
273
claim that Rev 1:10 refers to Easter Sunday is, in his view, speculative and
without real evidence to support it.55
The strongest argument against the Easter Sunday view is that John was
from an area that kept the old Quartodeciman reckoning of the resurrection,
according to which the Christian Pascha (later Easter) was celebrated on the
fourteenth of Nisan of the Jewish lunar calendar (the day of Passover). In
referring to kuriakh. h`me,ra, the Revelator wrote to Christians, who, if they
observed Easter, also observed the Quartodeciman reckoning.56According
to this reckoning, Easter could fall on any day of the week. Therefore, the
churches in Asia, by appealing to a tradition that claimed to go back to the
apostles and particularly John the Revelator, celebrated Easter annually on
the fourteenth of Nisan.57 This was unlike the Roman church (and the rest
of the churches) that celebrated Easter as resurrection day and, therefore, on
Sunday.58 Early in the second century, disputes arose involving the churches in
Asia Minor of the older tradition and the Roman bishop, which were known
as Quartodeciman or Paschal/Easter controversies regarding on which
day to celebrate Easter.59 The Easter Sunday custom eventually prevailed
Ibid., 231.
See ibid.
57
See NPNF 2, 1:241, n.1; Eusebius mentions Irenaeuss statement that Polycarp
was a disciple of John, a Quartodeciman, and unwavering in sticking to the practice
he observed with John the disciple of the Lord, and the other apostles with whom
he had associated (see Hist. eccl. 5.24.16; NPNF 2 1.244). See also Eusebius, Hist. eccl.
5.24.1-7; NPNF 2, 1:242-244, which shows that all prominent bishops in Roman Asia
were Quartodeciman.
58
In his letter to Victor, bishop of Rome, Irenaeus reports that the Roman church
celebrated Easter on Sunday at the beginning of the second century (cited in Eusebius,
Hist. eccl. 5.24.14-17 [NPNF 2, 1:243-244]).
59
Eusebius reports the decision of the bishops of Asia, led by Polycrates, the
bishop of Ephesus, to cling to the tradition of observing Easter on the fourteenth of
Nisan, handed down to them by John the Revelator and other apostolic fathers. On this
accession, Polycrates wrote to Bishop Victor in Rome, defending the Quartodeciman
practice: For in Asia great luminaries have gone to their rest who will rise on the day
of the coming of the Lord. . . . These all kept the fourteenth day of the month as the
beginning of the paschal feast, in accordance with the Gospel. Then he reminded the
bishop that seven of my relatives were bishops and I am the eighth, and my relatives
always observed the day when the people put away the leaven. In turn, Victor reacted
by trying to excommunicate the churches in Asia; however, the two sides reconciled
through the intervention of Irenaeus and other bishops (Hist. eccl. 5.24; NPNF 2,
1:242-244). Melito, the bishop of Sardis in the mid-second century, reported a similar
controversy, this time in Laodicea concerning the time of the celebration of the
Passover, which on that occasion had happened to fall at the proper season [i.e.,
the fourteenth of Nisan] (ANF 8:758). For the discussion of the Quartodeciman
controversy, see Frank E. Brightman, The Quartodeciman Question, JTS 25
55
56
274
over the Quartodeciman practice as a result of decrees issued by different

synods, in particular by the Council of Nicea in 325, which condemned the
Quartodeciman practice and imposed on the whole church the observance of
Sunday as the official day of Easter.60
All of this evidence suggests that an understanding of kuriakh. h`me,ra as
Easter Sunday is not warranted by the historical evidence. Even though there
are statements to confirm that the expression was indeed used to designate
Easter Sunday, including in Asia Minor where Christians celebrated Easter in
memory of Jesus resurrection,61 they are, however, of a much later date (later
second century). As such, they cannot be used as proof for a much earlier
usage of the phrase in Revelation.62
Kuriakh. h`me,ra as the Emperors Day
Some commentators suggest that kuriakh. h`me,ra refers to the Emperors
Day.63 Adolf Deissmann shows that the word kuriako,j was current in the first
century, denoting what belonged to the Roman emperor who claimed the title
ku,rioj (lord).64 Inscriptions seem to confirm that Egypt and Asia Minor
had a day known as h`m,era Sebasth, (Augustus Day, or Emperors Day),
dedicated in honor of the Emperor Augustus to commemorate his birthday,
and was thus before the Christian era.65 Having built on this evidence, some
scholars such as R. H. Charles suggest that at least in Asia Minor the first day
of each month or a certain day of each week was Sebasth, or Emperors
Day; and when the issue arose concerning Caesar or Christ, the full phrase
the Lords day (or just the adjective Lords) was used not only for the first
day of the week to symbolize resurrection day, but also in protest against the
emperor cult.66
(1923/1924): 254-270; C. W. Dugmore, A Note on the Quartodecimans, StPatr
4:411-421; Strobel, 185.
60
See Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 5.23.2 (NPNF 2 1:241; see also n. 1).
61
Cf., Fragments from the Lost Writings of Irenaeus, 7 (ANF 1:569-570).
62
For opposing arguments, see Bauckham, 230-231; see also Bacchiocchi, 118123.
63
E.g., Deissmann, Light from the Ancient East, 357; James Moffatt, The Revelation
of St. John the Divine, The Expositors Greek Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
1961), 5:342; Charles, 1:23; Ernst Lohmeyer, Die Offenbarung des Johannes, HNT 16
(Tbingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1926), 15; William Barclay, The Revelation of John, 2d ed.,
Daily Study Bible Series (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1960), 1:43; George R. BeasleyMurray, The Book of Revelation, 2d ed., New Century Bible Commentary (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 1981), 65.
64
See Deissmann, Light from the Ancient East, 357-358.
65
See further ibid., 358-361.
66
Charles, 1:13; cf. Deissmann, Light from the Ancient East, 359.
275
On the basis of linguistics, it is difficult to see a connection between the

expressions kuriakh. h`me,ra (Lords day) and Sebasth, (Augustus Day).
First, the two phrases are completely different; no conclusive evidence has
been discovered indicating that the phrase kuriakh. h`me,ra was ever used in
reaction to the day honoring the emperor. Furthermore, although ku,rioj
is a common title for God in the LXX, there is no evidence that the early
Christians used it with reference to Christ in reaction to emperor worship.67 If
John intended the phrase to be understood in connection with the Emperors
Day, why did he not use the Greek expression Sebasth,, well known to the
people in the Roman province of Asia, instead of using kuriakh. h`me,ra,
which he initiated? It is also unlikely that the Revelator referred to the Lords
day in Rev 1:10 as the Emperors Day at the time when Christians in Asia were
being persecuted for refusing to worship the emperor as ku,rioj.68
Kuriakh. h`me,ra as the Sabbath
Another possibility is that kuriakh. h`me,ra means the Sabbath, the seventh day
of the week. Such an understanding reflects the strong tradition of Seventhday Adventists.69 The phrase kuriakh. h`me,ra (the Lords day) is not used
in the LXX or elsewhere in the NT. Yet the day is reported in the fourth
commandment of the Decalogue to be h` h`me,ra h` e`bdo,mh sa,bbata Kuri,w|
tw|/ Qew/| sou (the seventh day is the Sabbath to the Lord your God, Exod
20:10, LXX). It is also called to. sa,bbato,n sou (your Sabbath, Neh 9:14).
The expression ta. sa,bbata, mou (my Sabbath) is used sixteen times in the
LXX.70 While the LXX reads a[gia tw|/ Qew (holy [day] to God) in Isa 58:13,
the Hebrew text has the holy [day] of the Lord. In addition, this passage
in Hebrew also has my holy day. All three Synoptics quote Jesus as saying:
The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath (ku,rioj ga,r evstin tou/ sabba,tou
o` ui`o.j tou/ avnqrw,pou, Matt 12:8; Mark 2:27-28; Luke 6:5).
Thus it is possible that the Christians in Asia could have easily understood
the expression kuriakh. h`me,ra as John receiving his vision on the Sabbath,
the seventh day of the week. To use Paul K. Jewetts argument, just as the title
ku,rioj was applied to Christ in the conviction that he was the true Lord, so
kuriakh. h`me,ra came to be used in the conviction that this day belonged to
As noted by Jewett, 58.
The Seventh-day Adventist Bible Commentary, 7:736.
69
See ibid., 7:735-736; Strand, Another Look at Lords Day, 180; Specht,
127; Desmond Ford, Crisis! A Commentary on the Book of Revelation (Newcastle, CA:
Desmond Ford Publications, 1982), 2:250-251; C. Mervyn Maxwell, The Message of
Revelation, God Cares (Boise, ID: Pacific Press, 1985), 2:82-85.
70
Exod 31:13; Lev 19:3, 30; 26:2; Deut 5:14; Isa 56:4, 6; Ezek 20:12, 13, 16, 20,
21, 24; 22:8; 23:38; 44:24.
67
68
276
him,71 and there is only one day in the Hebrew and Christian tradition that is
designated as the Lords. This is further supported by the fact that the NT
contains neither an explicit nor an implicit reference concerning a change from
the seventh-day Sabbath to Sunday. The seventh-day Sabbath was still honored
in the NT as the divinely designated day of rest (cf. Luke 23:54-56; Heb 4:411). If its change was intended by either Jesus or the apostles, it would be
strange that such a change was not clearly specified somewhere in the NT.
The evidence from early Christian authors points to the observance of
the seventh-day Sabbath rather than Sunday in Asia Minor in the first half of
the second century. One may mention, for instance, the above-cited letter of
Ignatius, in which his reference to sabbati,zontej (sabbatize) may mean to
observe the weekly Sabbath. This shows that the Christians at that time were
still observing the Sabbath. To this, one might add The Martyrdom of Polycarp,
the document describing the martyrdom of Polycarp (70-c.156), which took
place in the second half of the second century. Polycarp, the bishop in Smyrna
and a disciple of John the Revelator, was captured on h` paraskeuh, (the
preparation [day] or Friday) and his martyrdom took place on sabba,ton
mega,lon (the great Sabbath).72 The use of these two expressionsthe
preparation day and the day of the great Sabbath (the latter occurs twice
in the document)shows that the Christians in Smyrna around the middle
of the second century were still considering Friday to be h` paraskeuh, (the
preparation day, cf. Luke 23:54) for the Sabbath.
On the basis of biblical statements that clearly refer to the seventh-day
Sabbath as the Lords day, as well as to statements from the ante-Nicene
patristic writings that generally show Christians, particularly in Asia Minor,
were still observing the seventh-day Sabbath at the time of the writing of
Revelation, one might conclude that it would be highly unusual for John to
have used the expression kuriakh. h`me,ra for any day other than Saturday.
This observation is also affirmed by some who favor the Sunday or Easter
Sunday interpretation of the expression kuriakh. h`me,ra. As noted above,
Massyngberde Ford, who is in favor of the Easter view, candidly admits:
Most probably the Christians would still be keeping the Sabbath, the seventh
day [when Revelation was written].73 Likewise, Scott, arguing against the
Easter view, states that in Ignatiuss passage, referenced above, Christians
were bidden not to sabbatize, namely not to keep, the weekly Sabbath.74
See Jewett, 58-59, who argues for Sunday as the Lords day.
See Mart. Pol. 7.1; 8.1; 21.1 (ANF 1:40, 43).
73
Massyngberde Ford, 384. Dugmore, 279, admits that as matter of historical
fact the Sabbath did not disappear as a day of Christian worship until the late fourth
or early fifth century.
74
Walter Scott, Exposition of the Revelation of Jesus Christ (London: Pickering and
Inglis, 1948), 179-180.
71
72
277
Scott thus tacitly admits that the Christians in Asia were still observing the
seventh-day Sabbath a decade or two after the writing of Revelation.
Kuriakh. h`me,ra as the Eschatological
Day of the Lord
Another interpretation is that kuriakh. h`me,ra does not refer to a literal
weekly day, but to the eschatological day of the Lord.75 Accordingly, the
Revelator was taken away in vision to witness the events leading toward the
eschatological day of the Lord, which were unfolded before him in vision.
This was considered a time when God would intervene powerfully in endtime world affairs. The phrase the day of the Lord (h`me,ra kuri,ou) is used
uniformly in the LXX (Joel 2:11, 31; Amos 5:18-20; Zeph 1:14; Mal 4:5), as
well as in the NT (Acts 2:20; 1 Thess 5:2; 2 Pet 3:10) with reference to the
eschaton. Deissmann concludes that in Rev 1:10, grammar and context favor
the interpretation of kuriakh. h`me,ra as the day of judgment, referred to in
the LXX as h` h`me,ra tou/ kuri,ou.76
An argument against the figurative understanding of the expression
is that since John the Revelator gives the specific place (the island called
Patmos) and circumstances (because of the word of God and the testimony
of Jesus) under which he received the vision, it would be logical to conclude
that the phrase the Lords day refers to the literal, specific time when John
saw the vision.77 In spite of the logic in this argument, the textual evidence
emphatically suggests that a figurative understanding of the expression should
not be discarded easily. The text does not state that John was on Patmos on
the Lords day when he received the vision, but rather that while he was on
Patmos he came to be in the Spirit on the Lords day (evn pneu,mati evn th/| kuriakh/|
h`me,ra|). With regard to the usage of the expression evn pneu,mati, John is
consistent throughout the book; the other three subsequent occurrences of in
the Spirit (4:2; 17:3; 21:10) refer to a symbolic rather than a literal time/place.
75
Including J. Jacobus Wettstein, Novum Testamentum Graecum (Graz: Akademische
Druck- u. Verlagsanstalt, 1962), 2:750; William Milligan, The Book of Revelation,
Expositors Bible (Cincinnati: Jennings & Graham, 1889), 13; Seiss, 1:20-21; Fenton
Hort, The Apocalypse of St. John (London: Macmillan, 1908), 15; E. W. Bullinger, The
Apocalypse, 2d ed. (London: Eyre and Spottiswoode, 1935), 9-14; Deissmann allows for
such a possibility (Light from the Ancient East, 357, n. 2); Phillip Carrington, The Meaning
of the Revelation (London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 1931), 77-78;
W. Leon Tucker, Studies in Revelation (Grand Rapids: Kregel, 1980), 51-52; Louis T.
Talbot, The Revelation of Jesus Christ, 2d ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1937), 19; Scott,
36; Bacchiocchi, 123-131; John F. Walvoord, The Revelation of Jesus Christ (Chicago:
Moody Press, 1966), 42.
76
Adolf Deissmann, Lords Day, in Encyclopedia Biblica (London: Macmillan,
1913), 2815.
77
See Seventh-day Adventist Bible Commentary, 7:735.
278
If, in Rev 1:10, a specific, literal time is intended, it would be inconsistent with
the rest of the book.
The major flaw in the eschatological-day-of-the-Lord argument is that
John does not use the common OT phrases h`me,ra tou/ kuri,ou or h`me,ra
kuri,ou in 1:10, but rather kuriakh. h`me,ra.78 However, one might argue that
John could have taken the familiar OT terms and rephrased them.79 After
carefully analyzing the uses of the adjective kuriako,j in early Christian
writings, Bauckham concludes that the word kuriako,j is simply synonymous
with (tou/) kuri,ou in all cases where (tou/) kuri,ou is used adjectively with a
noun, with the exception of instances of the objective genitive.80 He further
demonstrates that Irenaeus and Clement use kuriako,j and (tou/) kuri,ou
interchangeably and virtually indiscriminately, and concludes in an objective
manner that from the beginning kuriako,j was used as a synonym for (tou/)
kuri,ou.81
This suggests that Johns use of the adjective kuriakh, (the Lords day),
rather than the noun kuri,ou in the genitive case (the day of the Lord), does
not make a substantive change in meaning. For instance, kuriako.n dei/pnon
(the Lords supper) in 1 Cor 11:20 is synonymous with tra,peza kuri,ou
(the table of the Lord) in 1 Cor 10:21.82 The basic difference between the
two phrases in both cases is simply a matter of emphasis. When the emphasis
is placed on the word Lord, then the noun in the genitive case (kuri,ou)
is used; however, when the emphasis is placed on the word day, then the
See Bauckham, 232. His argument that kuriakh. h`me,ra was a title for Sunday at
the time of the writing of Revelation is not warranted by the evidence.
79
Oscar Cullmann suggests that The Christian term h`me,ra tou/ kuri,ou or
kuriakh. h`me,ra . . . is the Greek translation of jom [=yom] Jahweh (Early Christian
Worship [London: SCM Press, 1966], 92).
80
Bauckham, 224-225; contra Werner Foerster, kurios, et al., in TDNT 3:1096.
However, Bauckham, 225, wrongly argues that kuriakh. h`me,ra is not simply
interchangeable with h`me,ra (tou/) kuri,ou, since by long-established usage the latter
referred to the eschatological day of the Lord. Thus if early Christians wished to call
the first day of the week after their ku,rioj, they could not use the term with h`me,ra
(tou/) kuri,ou without ambiguity and confusion. This, it would seem, is the reason why
kuriakh. h`me,ra early established itself as the common Christian name for Sunday.
Unfortunately, Bauckham, 224, does not follow his own advice that interpretation
must be determined from the sense and context in any particular case. Instead he
supports his position with later material (see n. 36 above). In this case, the substantives
that make the most sense and fit the context are didach,n or zwh,n, respectively.
81
Bauckham, 246, nn.11-15, 225.
82
I am indebted to Foerster, 1096, for this information. Stott, 71, shows how
Origin uses the adjective kuriakh. in reference to the final day of resurrection and
judgment.
78
279
adjective (kuriakh,) with a qualifying noun is used.83 This would explain why
John employed the expression kuriakh. h`me,ra rather than h`me,ra (tou/) kuri,ou
in Rev 1:10. Possibly he did it for the purpose of emphasis, wanting to inform
the reader that he was transported in vision into the context of the parousia
and the events leading toward it.
It is thus plausible that, in Rev 1:10, the phrase kuriakh. h`me,ra is used
as one of several designations for the day of the parousia, e.g., the day of the
Lord (h`me,ra kuri,ou, 1 Thess 5:2; 2 Pet 3:10); the day of our Lord Jesus
Christ (h` h`me,ra tou/ kuri,ou h`mw/n vIhsou/ [Cristou/], 1 Cor 1:8; 2 Cor
1:14); the great day (mega,lh h`me,ra, Jude 6); the great day of his wrath
(h` h`me,ra h` mega,lh th/j ovrgh/j auvtw/n, Rev 6:17); the great day of God (h`
h`me,ra h` mega,lh tou/ Qeou/ tou/ pantokra,toroj, Rev 16:14).84 In addition,
Jesus calls the day of the parousia his day (h`me,ra auvtou/, Luke 17:24). The
variety of expressions used in the Bible for the coming of Christ shows that
the references to this climactic event in history are not limited to any one
specific phrase. The expression kuriakh. h`me,ra could thus function as one
of several different designations commonly used in the Bible with regard to
the parousia.85
The eschatological meaning of kuriakh. h`me,ra is clearly supported by
the context.86 Eschatology is clearly the framework for every vision in the
Apocalypse. The day of the parousia is introduced in the prologue of the book,
which is replete with eschatological statements that are repeated verbatim in
the books epilogue:
dei/xai toi/j dou,loij auvtou/ a] dei/
gene,sqai evn ta,cei (1:1)
dei/xai toi/j dou,loij auvtou/ a] dei/

gene,sqai evn ta,cei (22:6)
o` ga.r kairo.j eggu,j (1:3)
o` kairo.j ga.r evggu,j evstin (22:10)
vIdou. e;rcetai meta. tw/n nefelw/n

(1:7)
ivdou. e;rcomai tacu, (22:7, 12).
The purpose of the book is to show to His bond-servants the things

which must soon take place (1:1), suggesting eschatological imminence; this
phrase is repeated verbatim in 22:6. Likewise, the time is near (1:3) is also
As correctly pointed out by Bullinger, 12.
Contrary to Bauckham, 225, who, although he concludes that the word
kuriako,j is simply synonymous with (tou/) kuri,ou, argues that kuriakh. h`me,ra is not
synonymous with (tou/) kuri,ou because of the traditional usage of the latter with
reference to the eschatological day of the Lord; see also Bacchiocchi, 127-128.
85
See Bacchiocchi, 127-128.
86
Contrary to Bauckham, 232.
83
84
280
repeated in 22:10. Finally, the climatic statement Behold, he is coming with

the clouds (1:7) parallels Behold I am coming quickly in 22:7, 12.
This suggests that the phrase dei/xai toi/j dou,loij auvtou/ a] dei/ gene,sqai
evn ta,cei in 1:1 and 22:6, together with two other parallel statements, function
as an inclusio, suggesting that the whole content of the book is articulated
through the perspective of the eschatological day of the Lord.
It is also especially significant that Johns reference to kuriakh. h`me,ra
occurs after the climatic statement Behold, he is coming with the clouds
(1:7), and is immediately followed by the reference to a trumpet-like sound,
suggesting a divine theophany, the personal coming of the Lord in judgment
(cf. Matt 24:31; 1 Cor 15:52; 1 Thess 4:16).87 Thus it is not without significance
that references to the parousia and other eschatological designations permeate
the messages to the seven churches (chaps. 23), denoting a sense of urgency
in each message. In addition, the eschatological promises given to the
overcomers that conclude each message clearly anticipate their fulfillment in
chapters 2122:
Ephesuse;rcomai, soi (I am coming to you, 2:5); I will grant to eat of
the tree of life, which is in the Paradise of God (2:7).
Smyrnadw,sw soi to.n ste,fanon th/j zwh/j (I will give you the crown of
life, 2:10); He who overcomes shall not be hurt by the second death (2:11).
Pergamume;rcomai, soi tacu. (I am coming to you quickly, 2:16); I
will give some of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone, and a
new name written on the stone which no one knows but he who receives it
(2:17).
Thyatiraacrij ou an hxw (until I come, 2:25); dw,sw u`mi/n e`ka,stw| kata.
ta. e;rga u`mw/n (I will give to each one of you according to your deeds, 2:23);
I will give authority over the nations; and he shall rule them with a rod of
iron, as the vessels of the potter are broken to pieces, as I also have received
authority from My Father; and I will give him the morning star (2:26-28).
Sardish[xw w`j kle,pthj (I will come like a thief, 3:3); peripath,sousin
met v evmou/ evn leukoi/j (they will walk with me in white, 3:4); He who
overcomes shall thus be clothed in white garments; and I will not erase his
name from the book of life, and I will confess his name before My Father,
and before His angels (3:5).
Philadelphiakavgw, se thrh,sw evk th/j w[raj tou/ peirasmou/ th/j
mellou,shj e;rcesqai evpi. th/j oivkoume,nhj (I also will keep you from the hour
of testing which is about to come upon the whole world, 3:10); e;rcomai, tacu,
(I am coming quickly, 3:11); I will make him a pillar in the temple of My
God, and he will not go out from it anymore; and I will write upon him the
name of My God, and the name of the city of My God, the new Jerusalem,
which comes down out of heaven from My God, and My new name (3:12).
In the Hebrew Bible, the trumpets are regularly associated with the eschatological
day of the Lord (see, e.g., Isa 27:13; Joel 2:1, 15; Zeph 1:16; Zech 9:14).
87
281
Laodiceadw,sw auvtw/| kaqi,sai met v evmou/ evn tw/| qro,nw| mou (I will give
him to sit with me on my throne, 3:21).
In light of this consideration, one may agree with William Milligan, who
states: From the beginning to the end of the book the Seer is continually in
the presence of the great day, with all that is at once so majestic and terrible.88
Likewise Charles H. Welch insists:
The book of Revelation is taken up with something infinitely vaster than days
of the week. It is solely concerned with the day of the Lord. To read that John
became in spirit on the Lords day (meaning Sunday) tells practically nothing.
To read in the solemn introduction that John became in spirit in the Day of
the Lord, that day of prophetic import, is to tell us practically everything.89
John was thus carried in the Spirit into the sphere of the eschatological day
of the Lord to observe the events in history that must soon take place (1:1),
which were leading toward the Second Coming and the time of the end. When
John was carried away by the Spirit in vision to observe future events, he was
already experiencing the nearness of the end time. This is why he could speak
of the day of the Lord as being at hand. The nearness of the Second Coming
added urgency to the message John communicated to his fellow Christians
(cf. Rev 1:3; 22:7, 12, 20). He, together with the churches he was addressing,
experienced the eschatological day of the Lord as a present reality.
Conclusion
On the basis of available evidence, it is problematic to interpret kuriakh.
h`me,ra as Sunday. The support for such a view is dubious and insufficient,
since it does not rest on evidence supplied by the Scriptures but upon postapostolic usage of the phrase, long after Johns time.90 No evidence exists in
the patristic writings from the late first century or the early second century
to show that kuriakh. h`me,ra was used for either the weekly Sunday or Easter
Sunday (the latter due, among other things, to the Quartodeciman practice in
Asia Minor until the end of the second century).91 The Emperors Day view
does not rest on reliable evidence either.
The strongest biblical and historical evidence favors the seventh-day
Sabbath. On the other hand, the eschatological character of the book as a
88
William Milligan, Lectures on the Apocalypse, Baird Lecture, 1885 (London:
MacMillan & Co., 1892), 136.
89
Charles H. Welch, This Prophecy: An Exposition of the Book of Revelation, 2d ed.
(Banstead, UK: Berean Publishing Trust, 1950), 49.
90
Specht, 127. Dugmore, 274, asserts: Is it not remarkable how little evidence
there is in the New Testament and in the literature of the Sub-Apostolic age that
Sunday was the most important day in the Christian Week, if in fact it was the occasion
of the supreme act of Christian worship, viz. the Eucharist.
91
Strand, The Lords Day, 350.
282
whole also supports the eschatological h`me,ra kuri,ou (the day of the Lord,
cf. 1:7), while the figurative meaning of the expression fits neatly into the
symbolic context of the whole book. As was shown before, the whole book
of Revelation was apparently written with the eschatological day of the
Lord and the events leading up to it in mind. It thus appears that neither the
Sabbath as the literal day of the week nor the eschatological day of the Lord
may be discarded easily.
It is, therefore, quite possible to see a double meaning in Johns enigmatic
expression kuriakh. h`me,ra. It is plausible that the Revelator may have wanted
to inform his readers that he was taken evn pneu,mati (by the Spirit into
vision) to witness the events from the perspective of the eschatological day
of the Lord (end-time judgment) and that the vision actually took place on
the literal weekly seventh-day Sabbath. The association of the two days
the eschatological day of the Lord and the Sabbathby John would fit
the eschatological connotation of the seventh-day Sabbath in the Hebrew
Scriptures and Jewish tradition.92
In Hebrew tradition, the Sabbath functions as the sign of deliverance (cf.
Deut 5:15; Ezek 20:10-12).93 The Sabbath is, at the same time, the climax of
the primordial time and the paradigm of the future time.94 The Universal Jewish
Encyclopedia indicates that the Sabbath became the memorial of the exodus,
presenting to the picture of the redemption expected in the future the
counter-piece of the release achieved in the past.95 It is significant that two
passages referring to the Sabbath in Isaiah are associated with eschatological
time (58:13-14; 66:23). The same concept is found in Jewish extrabiblical
literature. For instance, in the first-century-a.d. Jewish apocalyptic work Life
of Adam and Eve, the seventh day is a sign of the resurrection, the rest of the
coming age, and on the seventh day the Lord rested from all his works.96
Such an idea is expressed in Rabbinic literature, in which the Sabbath is seen
See Theodore Friedman, The Sabbath: Anticipation of Redemption, Judaism
16/4 (1967): 447; Robert M. Johnston, The Rabbinic Sabbath, in The Sabbath in
Scripture and History (Washington, DC: Review and Herald, 1982), 73; Samuele
Bacchiocchi, Sabbatical Typologies of Messianic Redemption, JSJ 17 (1986):
153-176; Harold W. Attridge, Hebrews, Hermenia Commentary Series (Philadelphia:
Fortress, 1989), 131, n. 85. A few scholars argue for the eschatological concept in the
weekly Sunday: Andr Feuillet, The Apocalypse (Staten Island: Alba House, 1964), 85;
Cullmann, 7, 91-92; Stott, 73-74; Rowland, 566.
93
See Bacchiocchi, 165-166.
94
Friedman, 447.
95
Max Joseph, Sabbath, in The Universal Jewish Encyclopedia (New York: Universal
Jewish Encyclopedia, 1939-1943), 9:295-296.
96
L. A. E. 51:2, in The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, ed. James H. Charles Worth
(Garden City: Doubleday, 1983), 294.
92
283
as, Robert Johnston states, an island of eternity within time, a foretaste of

the world to come.97 According to the Mishnah, Psalm 92, which was sung
by the Levites in the Temple on the Sabbath, is a psalm, a song for the
time that is to come, for the day that shall be all Sabbath and rest in the life
everlasting.98 Theodore Friedman argues that many different expressions
concerning the Sabbath in Talmudic literature express the idea that the
Sabbath is the anticipation, the foretaste, the paradigm of life in the world to
come. The abundance of such statements is the surest evidence of how deeprooted and widespread this notion was in the early rabbinic period.99
As Johnston also notes, the eschatological denotation of the Sabbath
is closely linked to the idea of the cosmic week, deduced from Psalm 90:4,
according to which six thousand years of earths history would be followed
by a thousand years of desolation.100 He also adds that this idea is further
connected with the concept of the eschatological Sabbath in Rabbinic
literature.101
97
Johnston, 73. I am indebted to Johnston for some of the Rabbinic references
listed in the section. For an excellent treatment on the subject, see Friedman, 443452; also George Wesley Buchanan, Sabbatical Eschatology, Christian News from Israel
18/3-4 (1967): 49-55.
98
M. Tamid 7:4 (Danby, Mishna, 589). Friedman, 448, also points to another
statement of the Mishnah that links the Sabbath to the world to come: A man should
not go out on (the Sabbath) carrying the sword, a bow, a cudgel, a stick, or a spear
. . . The sages say: They are naught save a reproach, for it is written, And they shall
beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up
sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more (Shabbath 6.4 [Danby, 105]).
Midrash on Genesis contains the following statement attributed to Rabbi Hanina: There
are three incomplete experience phenomena: the incomplete experience of death is
sleep; an incomplete form of prophecy is the dream; the incomplete form of the
next world is the Sabbath (Genesis Rabbah 17.5; 44.17; trans. H. Freedman [London:
Soncino Press, 1939], 136, 372); Johnston, 73, also finds a parallel to the notion of
the eschatological Sabbath in the Midrash on the Ten Commandments, in which lost souls
are given a temporary reprieve from punishment in Gehenna on the Sabbath. At the
Sabbath eve, an angel in charge of souls would shout: Come out of Gehenna! Thus
the souls are not judged on the Sabbath. However, when the Sabbath closes, the angel
cries again: Come out and come to the house of the shadow of death and chaos.
Friedman, 443.
Johnston, 73; cf. b. Sanh. 97a, b (trans. I. Epstein [London: Soncino Press,
1936], 654).
101
The same idea is also expressed in Pirqe R. El., chap. 19, according to which
God created seven aeons, and of them all He chose the seventh aeon only; the six
aeons are for the going in and going out for war and peace. The seventh aeon is
entirely Sabbath and rest in the life everlasting (trans. Gerald Friedlander [New York:
Benjamin Blon, 1971], 141); see also Buchanan, 52-53.
99
100
284
The eschatological concept of the Sabbath also appears in the NT.

According to Matthew, Jesus advised his disciples to pray to God so that their
necessary flight from Jerusalem during the Roman invasion would not occur
in the winter nor on the Sabbath (24:20). The context suggests that judgment
upon Jerusalem typologically foreshadowed the final judgment of the
eschaton.102 A similar concept is expressed by the author of Hebrews, wherein
the seventh-day Sabbath has eschatological significance as the heavenly rest
for the wandering pilgrims (4:4-10).103
The Revelators own situation on Patmos, as well as the situation of the
churches he was addressing (cf. Revelation 23), made the Sabbath meaningful
as a foreshadowing of the future reality of the day of the Lord. John describes
his situation on the island as being in the tribulation and kingdom and
perseverance because of his faithfulness to the gospel (1:9). Thus within the
climate of his own Patmos experience and the visionary experience he had
on the seventh-day Sabbath, he was carried away in the Spirit into the sphere
of the eschatological day of the Lord to observe the historical events that
must soon take place (1:1); in other words, those events leading up to the
Second Coming and the time of the end. It was on this Lords day that, as
he claimed, he had an encounter with the resurrected Lord, which for him
made that Sabbath a foretaste of the eschatological rest he would enter into
together with the faithful of all ages (chaps. 2122).
When John was carried by the Spirit in vision, he was already experiencing
the nearness of the end. This is why he could speak of the day of the Lord
as being at hand. The nearness of the Second Coming added urgency to
the message he communicated to his fellow Christians (cf. Rev 1:3; 22:7, 12,
20). Together with the churches he was addressing, the Revelator experienced
the eschatological day of the Lord as a present reality. This would explain
why he evidently avoided the use of the technical expression h`me,ra kuri,ou,
which would have one-sidedly referred to the eschatological day of the Lord.
Just as Paul initiated the expression kuriako.n dei/pnon (Lords Supper)
in 1 Cor 11:20 to incorporate what was commonly known as the breaking
of the bread and the notion of koinonia into one concept, so John the
Revelator initiated the phrase kuriakh. h`me,ra, not previously used, in order
to incorporate the two biblical conceptsthe Sabbath and the eschatological
day of the Lordinto a single idea.
Donald Hagner, Matthew 1428, WBC 33b (Dallas: Word, 1995), 703; Robert
Mounce, Matthew, NIBC 1 (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1985), 222.
103
See Attridge, 129-131.
102

THE SEVENTH-DAY SABBATH AND SABBATH

THEOLOGY IN THE BOOK OF REVELATION:
CREATION, COVENANT, SIGN
Larry L. Lichtenwalter
The Biblical Sabbath and Scriptures Last Book

The word Sabbath is never mentioned in the book of Revelation; yet, as the
last book of the Bible, Revelation gives promise of yielding Scriptures final
word1 on the seventh-day Sabbath for those who would follow Christ.
Revelations last words are significant because they memorably
summarize and conclude centuries of biblical insight, counsel, and experience.2
There all the books of the Bible meet and end.3 So much so that when
reading Revelation one is plunged fully into the atmosphere of the OT
theologically, spiritually, morally.4 Through images drawn from the past both
the present and the future unfold in a way that greatly resembles the past and
in which the same relationships of cause and consequence are observable that
have been at work throughout Gods dealings with humanity.5 The cascade of
OT allusions seems to assert that no matter the times, spiritual/moral issues
1
See M. Eugene Boring, Revelation, ed. James Luther (Louisville, KY: John Knox,
1989), 1-4; Eugene H. Peterson, Reversed Thunder: The Revelation of John and the Praying
Imagination (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1988), 26, 362.
2
Peterson, 1-2.
3
Ellen G. White, The Acts of the Apostles (Nampa, ID: Pacific Press, 2005), 585.
As Richard Bauckham has aptly said, Revelation is the climax of prophecy, thereby
bringing to consummate fulfillment the prophetic tradition of Israel (The Climax of
Prophecy: Studies on the Book of Revelation [Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1993], x-xi).
4
No NT book is as saturated with the OT as is Revelation. The more-thantwo-thousand references of one kind or another to the OT means that the study of
Revelation ties us to the OT in many ways. Even a conservative estimate works out at
about one allusion for every verse. The larger percentage of the hundreds of symbols
in the book is best understood by reference to the OT. See Bauckham, x-xi; G. K.
Beale, The Book of Revelation: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 1999), 76-99; Steve Moyise, ed., The Old Testament in the New: An Introduction
(New York: Continuum, 2001), 117; Grant R. Osborne, Revelation, ed. Moiss Silva
(Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2002), 25-27; Stephen S. Smalley, The Revelation to
John: Commentary on the Greek Text of the Apocalypse (Downers Grove: InterVarsity,
2005), 8-10. See also Jon Paulien, Criteria and the Assessment of Allusions to the
Old Testament in the Book of Revelation, in Studies in the Book of Revelation, ed.
Steven Moyise (New York: T. & T. Clark, 2001), 113; idem, The Deep Things of God
(Hagerstown, MD: Review and Herald, 2004), 135-136.
5
David A. deSilva, Final Topics: The Rhetorical Functions of Intertexture in
Revelation 14:1416:21, in The Intertexture of Apocalyptic Discourse in the New Testament,
ed. Duane F. Watson (Atlanta: SBL, 2002), 240.
285
286
have not changed because both human nature and Gods truth have remained
constant.6 Biblical imagery is thus intentionally drawn from the OT in order
to craft a theological vision that both incorporates the earlier spiritual/moral
issues and nuances their enduring import more sharply toward present and
last things (cf. 1 Cor 10:6-11; Rom 15:4).7
Our question here is whether Revelations pregnant summary of Scripture
includes the biblical seventh-day Sabbath. Would not this book, so saturated
with OT imagery, include in its allusion medley the seventh-day Sabbath as
one of the most prevailing of OT concerns?8 One would expect so, or at least
not be surprised to find a Sabbath allusion somewhereaffirmed or negated,
substituted or used theologically as metaphor.
However, if the seventh-day Sabbath appears nowhere in Revelations
purview of things, then why not? Why theologically would the Sabbath not be
an explicit or at least implicit part of Revelations biblical review and warning?
What could or would take the Sabbaths prominent place in the biblical scheme
of things from which Revelation so consistently draws?
If, on the other hand, Revelation does incorporate the biblical Sabbath
within its theological vision, how would it do so? In this book full of direct
and indirect OT allusions, bewildering symbols, subtle imagery, tacit concerns,
and underlying theology, would one expect some reference or subtle hint
to the Sabbath? Why would the Sabbath as a concept be implied, while the
word Sabbath is never mentioned? Could it be assumed that the biblically
informed reader would intuit the issues at play in the text so the writer need
not mention the word at all? More importantly, why would possible Sabbath
allusions appear quite ambiguous compared to other OT imagery from which
Revelation draws? What would there be about the seventh-day Sabbath that
one would not need to clearly articulate it in the text?9
Craig S. Keener, Revelation, NIV Application Commentary (Grand Rapids:
Zondervan, 2000), 40.
7
Opinions differ as to whether John was faithful to the contexts of the OT
allusions or largely disregarded their original meanings in order to make his own
theological statement or express his own theological vision. We would affirm the
position that John was faithful to both the contexts and the theological/moral issues
at play in those contexts of the OT allusions. He does not do a new thing, but rather
brings urgency and fresh focus to enduring spiritual/moral issues. See Bauckham, x-xi;
Moyise, 126; Osborne, 25.
8
Scott J. Hafemann, The God of Promise and the Life of Faith: Understanding the Heart
of the Bible (Wheaton: Crossway, 2001), 41-81; Gerhard F. Hasel, The Sabbath in the
Pentateuch, in The Sabbath in Scripture and History, ed. Kenneth A. Strand (Washington,
DC: Review and Herald, 1982). See Gen 2:1-3; Exod 31:13; Ezek 20:12, 20; Isa 56:3; 58;
cf. Heb 4:3-11; Exod 20:8-11; Deut 5:12-15. Other OT themes in Revelation include
creation, covenant, judgment, the sovereignty of God, holiness, idolatry, temple,
Jerusalem, flood, commandments, worship, Satan, Babylonian exile, the exodus, mark,
book of life, Tree of Life.
9
The superscription for Psalm 92 states that it is a A Psalm, a Song for the
6
The Seventh-day Sabbath and Sabbath Theology . . .
287
These questions underline the problem at hand: Does Revelations

pregnant summary of Scripture include the biblical seventh-day Sabbath, and
how forceful, patent, and positive might that inclusion be?
This study suggests that the biblical seventh-day Sabbath is both a
tacit concern and an underlying theological-sign concept with regard to
Revelations worldview of covenant in relation to creation and redemptive
re-creation. The investigation explores the theological significance of the
seventh-day Sabbath in light of Revelations creation/re-creation, covenant,
exodus, and Babylonian-captivity motifs, which are purposely drawn from
the OTs narrative and concerns. It includes identifying specific fourthcommandment allusions within the books text. Theological, spiritual, and
ethical implications of Sabbath with respect to the fundamental end-time
crisis of humanity in relation to its Covenant Creator are also examined.
This approach asserts a covenant/creation bridge between the OT (Genesis)
and the NT (Revelation), in that the book of Revelation not only parallels
Genesis thematically, but also fulfills, completes, and perfects Gods creation
into redemptive re-creation and the seventh-day Sabbath in the eternal rest
of God.10 It will further assert that the phrase the Lords day in the books
opening vision (1:10) is an intentional marker that alerts the thoughtful reader
to critical issues to come and, as such, is an unambiguous reference to the
seventh-day Sabbath.
Sabbath day, and yet it nowhere mentions the Sabbath.
10
The fundamental principle reflected in Genesis and the prophetic vision of
the end times in Revelation is that the last things will be like the first things. The
allusions to Genesis 12 in Revelation 2122 illustrate the role that the early chapters of
Genesis played in shaping the form and content of Revelations scriptural vision of the
future. Theologically, the term beginning in biblical Hebrew (as per Gen 1:1) marks
a starting point, which already anticipates the consummation of history at the end of
time. Already in Gen 1:1, the concept of the last days fills the mind of the reader:
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; . . . Behold, I am making all things new
(Rev 21:1, 5; cf. Isa 65:17). In this context of beginnings, the emphasis on Gods rest
on the seven day (Gen 2:1-3) forms an important part of the understanding of what lies
in the future. See Meredith G. Kline, Kingdom Prologue: Genesis Foundations for a Covenantal
Worldview (Eugene, OR; Wipf and Stock, 2006); John H. Sailhamer, The Pentateuch as
Narrative: A Biblical-Theological Commentary (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992), 83-84, 9697. For further discussion of the relationship of the biblical beginning (protology) and
ending (eschatology) and how the early chapters of Genesis are integrated with the rest
of Genesis, Genesis with the rest of the OT, and the OT with the NT, see William J.
Dumbrell, The End of the Beginning: Revelation 2122 and the Old Testament (Home Bush,
NSW: Lancer, 1985); Warren Austin Gage, The Gospel of Genesis: Studies in Protology and
Eschatology (Winona Lake, IN: Carpenter, 1984). From the beginning to the end the
biblical authors present a consistent, albeit selective (therefore interpretive) history. . . .
It is this capacity of the biblical authors to interpret history, expressing a commonality
of theme due to a consistency in the divine governance of history, that makes possible
a comprehensive study of protology and eschatology (ibid., 4).
288
We will begin with Revelations creation/re-creation, covenant, exodus,

and Babylonian-captivity motifs. We want to understand just how dominating
these key motifs really are within Revelations vision of reality.11 In doing so, it
may seem at first as though this study is more a theology of the Sabbath than
it is about the Sabbath in the book of Revelation. However, these motifs yield
considerable implications regarding the possible presence of the seventh-day
Sabbath within the books scheme of things. They provide important facets
of Revelations worldview from which exegetical implications of potential
verbal, thematic, or theological allusions within the book can be better
identified and investigated.12 From this vantage point, we will explore specific
Sabbath allusions and possibilities within the books text. This includes (1) the
verbal and thematic allusion to the fourth commandment (14:7), (2) reference
to the Lords Day (1:10), and (3) the frequent use of the number seven and
the word rest.
This study assumes the author of Genesis meant his account of
creation and the flood to be understood literally and historically, i.e., a sixday creation13 and a global flood. Revelations perspective on these biblical
themes is in keeping with other NT writers (Matt 19:4-5; Luke 17:26-29;
Heb 11:1-7; 2 Pet 3:3-7). This study also understands covenant in terms
of Gods eternal covenant with human beings (Heb 13:20; Rev 14:6),
thus demonstrating the essential unity of his work in creation, redemption,
and restoration, rather than in the disjointed consecutive phases of
dispensational covenant theology.14
11
Mathilde Freys brief, yet cogent, survey of some of these pervasive themes
(covenant, creation, sign) does not adequately highlight just how dominating these
key motifs really are within Revelations vision of reality. Readers can observe a few
footnotes along the way and may conclude there is something to her position. Most
will not take the time to go in-depth enough for the text rather than the theologian
to speak and to be assured enough that she is in reality reflecting the depth of the
text. Her brevity enables her position to be easily dismissed as just that, her position
(The Theological Concept of the Sabbath in the Book of Revelation, in You Have
Strengthened Me: Biblical and Theological Studies in Honor of Gerhard Pfandl in Celebration
of His Sixty-Fifth Birthday, ed. Martin Prbstle [St. Peter am Hart, Austria: Seminar
Schloss Bogenhofen, 2007], 223-239)
12
The writer understands that exegetical implications and demands are also at
play in articulating the worldview-creating motifs.
13
Norman R. Gulley, Basic Issues between Science and Scripture: Theological
Implications of Alternative Models and the Necessary Basis for the Sabbath in
Genesis 12, JATS 14/1 (2003): 195-288; Ji Moskala, The Sabbath in the First
Creation Account, JATS 13/1 (2002): 55-66; Randall W. Younker, A Literal Reading
of Genesis, Perspective Digest 15/3 (2010): 34-35.
14
See Walter Brueggemann, The Covenanted Self: Explorations in Law and Covenant
(Minneapolis: Fortress, 1999); Gerhard F. Hasel and Michael G. Hasel, The Promise:
Gods Everlasting Covenant (Nampa, ID: Pacific Press, 2002); Hans K. LaRondelle, Our
Creator Redeemer: An Introduction to Biblical Covenant Theology (Berrien Springs: Andrews
University Press, 2005); Skip MacCarty, In Granite or Ingrained: What the Old and New
289
Entering Revelations World

Revelation unfolds a worldview in which God, human existence, and the
spiritual/moral conflict at play are both spiritually and morally framed.15
As with any worldview, there is narrative, theology, and ritual.16 The reader
is invited to enter this explicit world, assured that what the book says about
God, human beings, moral/spiritual issues, central characters, and the moral/
spiritual nature of the conflict is, in fact, both true and God-given (1:1; 21:5;
22:6, 18-19).17 The foundational themes articulated in Revelations worldview
provide a broad conceptual canvas against which any discussion of the Sabbath
in the book must take place. As the prophecies of Revelation are especially
built on the greatest and key events from sacred history, these foundational
themes include creation and covenant in relation to the exodus and the exile to
Babylon.18 It is within these pervasive spiritual and morally orienting backdrop
themes that Sabbath implications are asserted and explored.
Covenants Reveal about the Gospel, the Law, and the Sabbath (Berrien Springs: Andrews
University Press, 2007); O. Palmer Robertson, The Christ of the Covenants (Phillipsburg,
NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed, 1980).
15
Revelation puts human beings in a spiritual/moral context. It constructs a world
of vision. It tells who the players are, what condition human life is in, where the world
is, and where it is headed; and it informs the reader as to what questions need to be
answered. Revelations worldview provides foundational themes and integrating motifs
that facilitate reflection on the books text and theology. This worldview provides the
metaphysical map, the larger moral/spiritual vision against which the books individual
themes are to be considered and find meaning. See David L. Barr, Tales of the End: A
Narrative Commentary on the Book of Revelation (Santa Rosa, CA: Polebridge, 1998), 3-5;
Beale, 171-177; Richard B. Hays, The Moral Vision of the New Testament: Community,
Cross, New Creation: A Contemporary Introduction to New Testament Ethics (San Francisco:
HarperSanFrancisco, 1996), 181-184; Smalley, 16-19.
16
Worldview is manifested in three ways: through narrative, rational, and ritual
components. See Dennis P. Hollinger, Choosing the Good: Christian Ethics in a Complex
World (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2002), 63; David K. Naugle, Worldview: The
History of a Concept, foreword Arthur Frank Holmes (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
2002).
17
The apocalyptic medium establishes its own world, which one must enter in
order to fully grasp it. The modern reader enters a worldview vastly different from his
or her natural perspective. The first task, then, is to understand Revelations outlook.
Revelation is wrapped in a worldview and language quite alien to modern times. See
Joseph R. Jeter, Revelation-Based Preaching: Homiletical Approaches, in Preaching
Through the Apocalypse: Sermons from Revelation, ed. Cornish R. Rogers and Joseph R.
Jetter (St. Louis: Chalice, 1992), 10; Richard Melick, Preaching and Apocalyptic
Literature, in Handbook of Contemporary Preaching, ed. Michael Duduit (Nashville:
Broadman, 1992), 382-383; Larry Paul Jones and Jerry L. Sumney, Preaching Apocalyptic
Texts (St. Louis: Chalice, 1999), 9-23.
18
Jon Paulien, What the Bible Says about the End-Time (Hagerstown, MD: Review
and Herald, 1994), 41-71; Ranko Stefanovic, Revelation of Jesus Christ: Commentary on the
290
Sabbath and Creation

Revelation unfolds a vibrant and sustained confession of God as Creator.19
It presupposes the Genesis creation narrative and posits the overarching
worldview that the whole of finite reality exists by God the Creators gift
of existence.20 It sets the creation of the universe at the heart of its vision
of the throne (chaps. 4 and 5), where the Creation Song of the Elders
poignantly expresses themes such as the central way of characterizing both
God and finite reality.21 The sovereign creative energy of God, expressed
in the profound phrase for you created all things, and by your will they
existed and were created (4:11),22 concentrates all of Genesis 1 into a single
thought.23 Gods creative power includes both the original act of creation
(they were created) and his ongoing preservation of the created order (they
existed).24 The deeply personal nature of creation (by your will they . . . were
created) is likewise celebrated. God not only created all that is, he willfully
intended to bring the universe into existence.25 Thus God on his heavenly
throne is praised without end by his court of throne-room guardians, who
shout and sing about their holy Creator (4:11).
This understanding of God as the personal, transcendent source of
all things permeates Revelations theology and moral vision.26 The creation
motif thus situates the creature relative to its Creator. It provides a basis for
worship and the foundation for moral life.27 God is identified as the Creator
of all things as a motivation for people to worship him instead of the creation
Book of Revelation (Berrien Springs: Andrews University Press, 2002), 19.

19
See fuller discussion of the theological and ethical implications of Revelations
central and pervasive creation theme in Larry L. Lichtenwalter, Creation and
Apocalypse, JATS 15/1 (2004): 125-137. David Aune misses the import of this central
theological theme and overarching worldview when he suggests that the emphasis on
God as creator is not a central way of characterizing God in Revelation (Revelation 15,
WBC 52a (Dallas: Word, 1997), 312.
20
Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, WBC (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1999), 50.
21
Kendell H. Easley, Revelation, Holman New Testament Commentary (Nashville:
Broadman & Holman, 1998), 78-79.
22
Unless otherwise indicated, all biblical passages will come from the NASB.
23
Ibid., 79. In Genesis, Gods explosive voice speaks the world and most things in
it into existence (Gen 1:6, 9, 11, 14, 20, 24, 26, 29; Ps 33:6, 9), thus expressing his will
through his creative word.
24
Ibid.
25
Boring, 106.
26
Lichtenwalter, 126-131.
27
Jacques B. Doukhan, Secrets of Revelation: The Apocalypse Through Hebrew Eyes
(Hagerstown, MD: Review and Herald, 2002), 126.
291
(14:7; cf. 9:20).28 Such motivation also reflects a moral impulse in that they
fear God and give glory to him for the fear of God is the beginning of
moral life (14:7; cf. Deut 6:2; Eccl 12:13; Pss 19:19; 34:11-14; 36:1; Prov 3:7;
8:13; 10:16).29
Not surprisingly, the subject of creation nuances the books vision and
message of the end. In an eschatologically oriented creation statement, a
mighty angel swears to God the Creator that there will no longer be any
further chronos or measured time in the finishing of the mystery of God
(10:5-7).30 When an angel proclaims the eternal gospel to all people on
earth, calling them to repentance in view of the judgment, which already
has come, the substance of this gospel is a call to recognize their Creator
by worshiping him:31 Fear God and give glory to him, because the hour of
his judgment has come; worship him who made the heaven and the earth and
sea and springs of water (14:6). It is a prophetic and epochal end-time call,
which both leads up to the second coming of Christ and produces the final
harvest of the earth (14:6-14).32 This suggests that the question of creation is
viewed as one of the moral/spiritual issues human beings are confronted with
not only throughout history, but, particularly, also in the end-time leading up
to the eschaton. The last rebellion of the dragon and his cohorts, then, is an
attempt to draw the whole world into a unified rebellion against the Creator
God.33 The final crisis, in relation to worship by the faithful remnant, revolves
around this critical creation worldview and the worship of the Creator God.
The ultimate character of Revelations eschatological age is a completely
new creation: Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven
and the first earth passed away (21:1).34 The final redemptive act is a creative
Beale, 753.
Doukhan, 124. See Lichtenwalters, 131-136, discussion of the ethical
implications of creation in Revelation.
30
In the vision of the mighty angel with the little scroll that lay open in his hand,
Revelation expands on Gods creation by explicitly mentioning the contents of the
three divisions of the created reality (the heavens, earth, and sea)all that is in each
part is likewise stated three times for emphasis (10:6). As the angels posture (one foot
on the sea, another on the land, right hand lifted toward heaven) encompasses all the
spheres of creation, ascending from the seas depths to the dry land to the height of
heaven, so also the Creator who secures his oath controls all spheres, descending from
heavens heights to dry land to the depths. See Dennis E. Johnson, Triumph of the Lamb:
A Commentary on Revelation (Phillipsburg, NJ: P & R Publishing, 2001), 161-162.
31
Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, 48.
32
David E. Aune, Revelation 616, WBC 52b (Waco: Word, 1998), 848-849;
Bauckham, 94-98; Hans K. LaRondelle, How to Understand the End-Time Prophecies of the
Bible: The Biblcial-Contextual Approach (Sarasota, FL: First Impressions, 1997), 362-369;
Stefanovic, 436, 456-464.
33
Anthony MacPherson, The Mark of the Beast as a Sign Commandment and
Anti-Sabbath in the Worship Crisis of Revelation1214, AUSS 43 (2005): 283.
34
Dumbrell, 165.
28
29
292
act (Revelation 2122).35 The biblical witness begins with creation (Genesis)
and ends with the New Jerusalem heralding the dawn of the new creation
(Revelation). The remarkable and moving presentation of biblical imagery
details the magnificence of the new event, which fulfills every biblical and
human expectation. Moral vision for the new corresponds with the ethic
and unity of life intended in the original (21:8, 27; 22:14-15; cf. 2 Pet 3:13).
Redemptive re-creation thus includes the ethical.36 Clearly, the biblical
narrative moves between these two poles. This raises the crucial question
between creation and redemptive re-creation in Revelations theology.37 The
connection highlights the cosmic scope of Revelations theological and moral
horizon, within which its primary concern with the human world is set.38
The universality of the eschatological new beginning corresponds to the
derivation of all things from Gods original creative act.39 God is the ground
of ultimate hope for the future creation of the world.
Creation is thus not confined forever to its own immanent possibilities,
but is wonderfully open to the fresh creative possibilities of its Creator.40 This
biblical creation/re-creation bridge is more than conceptual. It is rooted in
the Creator.
The natural implication of Revelations creation worldview for any
discussion of the Sabbath is that biblically there is no creation account without
the seventh-day Sabbath.41 In the Hebrew Scripture, from which Revelation
articulates its worldview, creation and Sabbath are inseparable (Gen 2:1-4a;
Exod 20:8-11). Neither creation nor the Sabbath can be separated from the
Creator God or the proper response of human beings who would worship
Ibid.
Revelations ultimate aim is ethical (Beale, 184-186). It relates to everyday life.
This is borne out by the conclusion in 22:6-21, which is an intentional expansion of
the moral implications of the prologue in 1:1-3, and especially by the ethical emphasis
of 1:3 (cf. the phraseological parallels in 22:7b, 9b, 10b, 18a, 19a). Biblical eschatology
always casts a moral vision. It generates an ethic to go along with it, or it fails to keep
its promise of offering a unity of life and the possibility of total fulfillment. See Carl
E. Braaten, Eschatology and Ethics: Essays on the Theology and Ethics of the Kingdom of God
(Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1974), 20.
37
The imagery encompasses both continuity and discontinuity (2 Pet 3:13; Isa
65:17). There is an eschatological renewal of creation, not its replacement by another.
For the first time since 1:8, the one who sits on the throne speaks directly: Behold, I
am making all things new (21:5a). The key significance of the words echoing Isaiah
is underlined by Gods own command to John to write them down (21:5b). There
is paradox in that, although a complete new beginning is anticipated, the spiritual
experience of the believer is preserved (Dumbrell, 167).
38
39
Ibid.
40
Ibid., 48. This eschatological hope for the future of Gods whole creation
includes the hope of bodily resurrection (21:4; 1:18; 2:8, 10; 20:4-6).
41
MacPherson, 282.
35
36
293
him. Scripture itself makes the bridge both thematic and verbal. Why would it
be any different in Revelation? If the biblical creation worldview so dominates
the book of Revelation, wouldnt the Sabbath also be assumed and implied?
In particular, and in relation to this study, the question of the seventhday Sabbath is bound up with Revelations promise of a perfected creation.42
The literary structure of Genesis places the Sabbath as the final and climatic
act of Gods creation on the seventh-dayplacing human beings in a vivid
mutual relationship with their Holy Creator, worshiping him.43 Creation was
thus actually finished or consummated on the seventh day. The seventh day
brings the creation week to an end and, therefore, to its goal.44 This day alone
is sanctified.45 In doing so, God endowed this day with a special relationship
to himself, who alone is intrinsically holy (1 Sam 2:2; Lev 11:44; Isa 6:3; cf.
Rev 15:4; 4:8).46 Thus in Scripture, God, holiness, creation, and Sabbath
are integrally linked (Gen 2:1-4a; Exod 20:8-11; Isa 43:15; Rev 4:8-11). It is
significant that the biblical concept of the holy first appears in relation to the
Sabbath.47 Worship, ethics, and the unity of human moral life are envisioned
in this intentional linkage of the Sabbath with the holy (Gen 2:1-4a; Exod
20:8-11; 31:13; Ezek 20:12).
The action taken by God on the seventh day gives expression to the total
purpose intended for creation.48 Later biblical connections made between
creation, Sabbath, and the sanctuary further nuance Gods intended purpose.49
As the climax of creation, the Sabbath became a sanctuary in time, not space,
Dumbrell, 40.
Moskala, 55-66. The chiastic center of the Genesis account of the Sabbath is
Gods blessing and act of making itthe seventh dayholy (2:2-3). See Kenneth A.
Strand, The Sabbath, in Handbook of Seventh-day Adventist Theology, ed. Raoul Dederen
42
43
Dumbrell, 40.
Victor P. Hamilton, The Book of Genesis; Chapters 117 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
1990), 1:143. The first thing consecrated by God in this world is not a thing or a place,
but a moment in time.
46
Roy Gane, Sabbath and the New Covenant, JATS 10/1 (1999): 314. See also
Mathilde Frey, The Creation Sabbath: Theological Intentionality of the Concept of
Holiness in the Pentateuch (unpublished paper presented to the Adventist Theological
Society Annual Meeting, Providence, Rhode Island, 2008), 1-11. How can a day be
holy? It must be consecrated in relation to beings who are affected by it. The only way
for intelligent beings to make/treat time as holy is by altering their behavior. Thus,
God altered His behavior on the seventh day of Creation, the archetype of the weekly
Sabbath (cf. Hasel 1982: 23), and proclaimed the day holy (Gane, 314).
47
See Frey, The Creation Sabbath, 1-11.
48
Dumbrell, 177.
49
See Gregory K. Beal, The Temple and the Churchs Mission: A Biblical Theology of the
Dwelling Place of God, New Studies in Biblical Theology 17 (Downers Grove: InterVarsity,
2004), 66-74; Gregory K. Beale, Eden, the Temple, and the Churchs Mission in the
New Creation, JETS 48/1 (2005): 5-31; Dumbrell, 35-76.
44
45
294
that God creates by himself.50 As Israels earthly tabernacle and temple were
reflections and recapitulations of the first temple of the Garden of Edena
unique place of Gods presence where Adam walked and talked with God (Gen
3:8)Revelations (2122) new-creation allusions to Genesis 23 bring promise
of the final presence of God among his people, who see him face to face
(21:3-5; 22:4).51 The envisioned sabbatical consummation is fully and gloriously
realized (21:3-7). Interestingly, in a vision replete with both temple and Sabbathrest imagery, neither the new temple nor the Sabbath is conspicuously present in
Revelation 2122. As the Sabbath of creation ushers in a complete relationship
with God (Gen 2:1-4a), so also does Revelations sabbatical consummation
and the moral vision that that consummation engenders in relation to eternal
fellowship with God (Rev 21:1-8, 27; 22:1-15).52 As creations temporal seventhday Sabbath rest provides the typology here, it also implies the enduring nature
of the weekly seventh-day Sabbath in biblical thinking.
Sabbath and Covenant
Revelations portrait of the eschaton includes the fulfillment of the divine
covenant with human beings. The decent of the New Jerusalem at the
close of the millennium, symbolizing Gods everlasting presence, marks the
consummation of an intimate covenant commitment: a connection rendered
unmistakable by the use of Lev 26:11-12 in Rev 21:3.53 The language is
unambiguous in its echo of the pervading biblical concept of covenant (21:3,
7).54 No greater statement of a promise kept can be found in Scripture. Here,
too, Gods voice is heard pronouncing the conclusion of earths restoration
Behold, I am making all things newwhich, in effect, affirms the Creators
covenant faithfulness to his creation (21:5).55 The triumphant divine cry, It is
Abraham J. Heschel, The Sabbath: Its Meaning for Modern Man (New York: Wolff,
1951), 29; Jacob Milgrom, Leviticus 2327: A New Translation with Introduction and
Commentary (New York: Doubleday, 2001), 2285.
51
Beale, Eden, the Temple, and the Churchs Mission in the New Creation.
52
See Dumbrell, 35-42, 71, 177-178.
53
Ibid., 78-79; Johnson, 304-305; T. M. Moore, I Will Be Your God: How Gods
Covenant Enriches Our Lives (Phillipsburg, NJ: P & R Publishing, 2002), 183-190.
54
Indeed the covenant established in Sinai is now fulfilled, as seen in the Holiness
Code of Lev 26:11-13: I will make My dwelling among you. . . . I will also walk among
you and be your God, and you shall be My people (cf. Lev 21:3). This promise was
repeated often as a note of comfort and hope for Gods beleaguered people (Exod
29:45; Jer 30:22; 31:33; Ezek 37:27). V. 7 expands this covenant imagery with the reality
that individual overcomers will be children of God, with all the rights of heirs: I will
be his God and he will be My son (cf. Exod 29:45). See David E. Aune, Revelation
1722, WBC 52C (Waco: Word, 1998), 1123.
55
Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, 50-53. It is fulfillment of what
was announced earlier through Isaiah: For behold, I create new heavens and a new
earth; The former things will not be remembered or come to mind (Isa 65:17; cf.
43:19). In the biblical picture, creation is prior to covenant and is the foundation
50
295
complete (21:6), confirms the eschatological new creation and redemption,

now completed in the descent of the New Jerusalem from heaven.56
This covenant consummation in Revelations final vision echoes
significant covenant expressions found elsewhere in the book. The
designation of the redeemed as a kingdom of priests (1:6; cf. 5:10; 20:6)
is drawn from the covenant experience of the exodus, in which redeemed
Israel is bound to God in sacred covenant and commissioned to a special
priestly task among the nations of the world (Exod 19:5-6; cf. Isa 61:6; 1
Pet 2:9-10).57 Gods self-designationthe One who is and who was and
who is to come (1:4, 8; cf. 11:17; 16:5)interprets his OT covenant name
YHWHI AM WHO I AM (Exod 3:14).58 The drama of the Lamb and
the sealed scroll (4:111:19) concludes with the most specific covenant
language in the Apocalypse: And the temple of God which is in heaven
was opened; and the ark of His covenant appeared in His temple (11:19).
This clear reference to covenant (h` kibwto.j th/j diaqh,khj auvtou/) is an
integral part of Revelations transition into the last portion of the book,
namely, both encapsulating the heart of everything that has gone before
and signaling what lies behind every issue that unfolds aheadcovenant
realities.59 It asserts that Gods covenant with humanity through history is the
stage on which the divine drama is performed in the book of Revelation.60
of the covenant and covenantal relationship between God and man. See Hasel, The
Promise, 14.
56
Bauckham, The Climax of Prophecy, 7; Smalley, 540.
57
Waldemar Janzen, Exodus (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 2000), 232, 234.
Revelation follows this pattern of covenant redemption and commissioning (1:5-6;
5:10; 10:11; 14:6-12; 18:4; 20:6). Interestingly, the encounter of Moses with God at the
burning bush and his subsequent commissioning (3:1-12) is repeated for all of Israel
(Exod 19:1-6). Moses is commissioned and then Israel as a nation is commissioned.
In Revelation, John is first commissioned, and then the church, the people of God as
a whole, are commissioned. See ibid., 234. In keeping with the NT, the church is seen
as a new exodus (covenant) community, fulfilling the high priestly role of the OT (1:6;
1 Pet 2:9-10). See Osborne, 65; Joseph L. Trafton, Reading Revelation: A Literary and
Theological Commentary, ed. Charles H. Talbert (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys, 2005),
21, 23, 201.
58
Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, 28-30; Easley, 14.
59
On the duo-directionality of Revelations transition passages, see Paulien, The
Deep Things of God, 115-119; Stefanovic, 26, 362. The striking parallels between the
language of Revelation 59 and the OT covenant/curse passages suggest that the
scene of the opening of the seals and the sounding of the trumpets has to do with the
NT covenant established with Christ and the consequences of breaking, rejecting, or
opposing it, and for those who identify with it. See David Marshall, Apocalypse! Has the
Countdown Begun? (Lincolnshire, UK: Autumn House, 2000), 60.
60
Michael S. Horton, Covenant and Eschatology: The Divine Drama (Louisville, KY:
Westminster John Knox, 2002), 15.
296
It is also the context in which both moral choice and accountability are
envisioned.61
The theme of the covenant is crucial for the reading of Revelation.62 No
theology of the book is complete without considering its covenant backdrop.63
Correspondingly, no biblical theology of Gods covenant is complete without
considering the covenant consummation therein.64 In Revelation, all Gods
previous covenants are integrated into one glorious consummation in the
New Jerusalem, thus demonstrating the essential unity of Gods work in
creation, redemption, and restoration.65 No more concrete category can unite
the beginning and the end, creation and redemptive re-creation, history and
eschatology, the individual and the community, divine and human agency,
moral life and accountability (judgment), than Scriptures own method of
moral contexualization: the covenant.66
With respect to creation and redemptive re-creation, covenant provides
a sense of relationality.67 Since the Creator of all reality is a person, all of that
reality which God voluntarily produces exists in relationship. God not only
shares a divine relationship to creation, but has also entered into covenant
with all creationthe natural world and human beings alike. Covenant
establishes and reflects the formal commitment that God has to creation,
and, in turn, that human beings would have to their God, to one another, and
61
Ibid. See Stefanovics discussion of Revelations pervading covenant motif
(Revelation, 167-179, 195-211). Cf. Rev 21:1-8; 1:5-6; 5:111:19; Lev 26:11-12; Exod
29:45; 19:5; Jer 30:22; Ezek 37:27; 1 Pet 2:9-10.
62
David Chilton, The Days of Vengeance: An Exposition of the Book of Revelation
(Tyler: Dominion, 1987), xvii-xviii.
63
The idea of the covenant is one of the most profound biblical concepts. It
uniquely expresses the deep communion, intimate relationship, and closest fellowship
between God and human beings. It functions as one of the central themes of Scripture
(Hasel, The Promise, 17). See Walter Eichrodt, Theology of the Old Testament (Philadelphia:
Fortress, 1961), 1:13-17; Steven L. McKenzie, Covenant (St. Louis, Chalice, 2000);
Moore; Robertson.
64
LaRondelle, Our Creator Redeemer, 150.
65
Dumbrell, 78-118; LaRondelle, Our Creator Redeemer, 154.
66
Horton, 16.
67
Carol J. Dempsey, Hope Amid the Ruins: The Ethics of Israels Prophets (St. Louis:
Chalice, 2000), 19. Since the Creator of all reality is a person, all of that reality that God
voluntarily produces exists in relationship. God not only shares a divine relationship
to creation, but also enters into covenant with all creationthe natural world and
human beings alike. Covenant establishes and reflects the formal commitment that
God has to the creation and, in turn, that human beings would have to their God, to
one another, and to the natural world. For the ancient biblical people covenant was
central to life; it sustained life, preserved it, and ensured its future. To be in covenant
was to be interdependent. When the covenant was preserved, life flourished. When
the covenant was broken, life suffered.
297
to the natural world.68 Thus ethics and moral life are envisioned, and so with
the eschatological covenant consummation and the conduct appropriate or
inappropriate for the maintenance of covenant life (21:7-8, 27; 22:14-15).
As with Revelations creation theme, the natural implication of the
books pervading covenant imagery for any discussion of the Sabbath
is that, in the biblical scheme of things, the Sabbath is Gods enduring
covenant sign (Exod 31:12-17; Ezek 20:12, 20; Isa 56:6; cf. Mark 2:27).69
Again, we ask frankly, why would it be any different in Revelation? If the
biblical-covenantal worldview so dominates the book, wouldnt the Sabbath
also be assumed and implied?
In the Hebrew Bible, from which Revelation unfolds its worldview,
covenant, creation, and Sabbath are interrelated and inseparable. The original
divine Sabbath represented the Creators covenantal lordship over the world.70
It was the sign of the creation covenant.71 In effect, the history of the covenant
was really established in the event of the seventh-day.72 It would seem that
Revelations biblical creation-and-covenant themes provide a perspective in
which the corresponding seventh-day Sabbath is assumed and implied.
With respect to this study, the Sabbath in relation to the covenant is bound
up with relationality and the question of fulfilled promises. As the conclusion
of creation, the Sabbath declares both Gods holy presence among his people
and the sufficiency of his provision for the future.73 Moral vision is likewise
engendered. The sabbatical realization portrayed at the end of the book of
Revelation asserts that the same covenant relationship that will exist between
God and his people throughout redemptive history is already in place from the
beginning of creation. These principles of relationality, provision, commitment,
ethics, and fulfilled promises embodied in the Sabbath stand at the center of
the covenant consummation by God at the re-creation of the world.74
Sabbath and the Exodus
The exodus was a decisive moment in Israels history.75 Throughout Scripture,
it is perceived as a divine event and the powerful, compelling center of
Ibid., 19-34.
Gane, 311-332; Hafemann, 41-60; LaRondelle, Our Creator Redeemer, 7-9;
MacCarty, 180-205.
70
Kline, 19, 39. See also Hafemann, 55.
71
Hafemann, 50; LaRondelle, Our Creator Redeemer, 7.
72
Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1958), 3/1:217.
73
Hafemann, 54. The Sabbath signifies a promise from God that he has provided
and will provide everything that Adam and Eve need. There is nothing he will have to
do that he has not already committed himself to do.
74
God is graciously and wonderfully present among his people. He has kept all of
his promises and sufficiently meets the needs of his people for all eternity (21:122:5;
cf. 7:15-17).
75
Eugene H. Merrill, A Theology of the Pentateuch, in A Biblical Theology of the Old
68
69
298
Israels defining memory of faith76 (Exod 12:26-27; 13:8-10, 14-15; Deut

5:12-15; 6:20-24; 26:5-9). As one of Scriptures most significant symbols of
biblical faith,77 it is paradigmatic in that it provides the plot and structure
of later, defining moments in the history of Gods people.78 Thus the
exodus becomes a theological symbol throughout Scripture, serving as the
literary backdrop for spiritual/moral imagination, formation, and decision.79
It unfolds and nuances themes of deliverance, covenant, Sabbath, divine
presence, holiness, sanctuary, worship and idolatry, judgment, law, election,
and commission to service.80
Of all the NT books, the Apocalypse uses the exodus motif most
thoroughly in its unfolding theology and moral vision.81 The exodus symbolism
in Revelation is both subtle and pervasive.82 Where the Apocalypses OT
allusions are drawn from Isaiah or the Psalms, the exodus forms the moral/
spiritual backdrop for the respective imagery, further portraying Revelations
underlying exodus motif.83
Testament, ed. Roy B. Zuck, Eugene Merrill, and Darrell Brock (Chicago: Moody Press,
1991), 31. The exodus was the key salvation event in which God liberated his people
from oppression in Egypt, destroyed their oppressors, made them his own people, and
led them to a better land. The exodus denotes not only Israels physical deliverance
from Egypt, but also includes the whole range of inseparably connected events and
experiences of the people of Goddeliverance from Egypt, from the armies of Egypt
at the Red Sea, from the difficulties of desert life, and from enemies during forty years
of wilderness wanderingincluding Gods gracious provision along the way to the
Promised Land. The exodus motif unfolds in each of the Pentateuchal books, including
Genesis, which set its historical/theological/ethical contextual background. The theology
of the book of Exodus in particular further shapes this permeating biblical theme.
76
Walter Brueggemann, An Introduction to the Old Testament: The Canon and Christian
Imagination (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 2003), 53.
77
Stephen Hre Kio, Exodus as a Symbol of Liberation in the Book of the
Apocalypse (Ph.D. dissertation, Emory University, 1985), 86.
78
Brueggemann, An Introduction to the Old Testament, 53, 55.
79
Kio, 79. At its core, Egypt stands as a symbol of oppression, suffering, bondage,
sin, and the brokenness of our world. The exodus is seen as a story repeated in every
soul (and generation) that seeks deliverance from the enmeshing and enervating
influence of the world.
80
Brueggemann, An Introduction to the Old Testament, 65-66; Janzen, 25-26; Merrill,
30-56; Sailhamer, 241-322.
81
82
See my more complete discussion, Exodus and Apocalypse: Deliverance Then
and Now, in Christ, Salvation and the Eschaton: Essays in Honor of Hans K. LaRondelle,
ed. Ji Moskala, Daniel Heinz, Peter van Bemmelen (Berrien Springs: Old Testament
Department, Seventh-day Adventist Theological Seminary, Andrews University, 2009),
393-418.
83
Kio, 219, 222-223.
299
In the broadest sense, Revelation portrays the victorious saints as having

participated in the final exodus.84 Their song is the song of Moses, the
bond-servant of God, and the song of the Lamb (15:3; cf. Exod 15:1-18).
Gods victory in liberating his people and destroying their enemies stands in
continuity with the ancient exodus. But it is also the Lambs song, a new
song (Rev 14:3), for the triumph of the Lamb in his sacrificial death,
resurrection, life, and coming judgment is the last great exodus, the ultimate
salvation that was foreshadowed when the Israelites left Egypt in Moses
day.85 In keeping with this overarching deliverance narrative, there seems to
be no end to the intersection and amalgamation of exodus submotifs within
Revelations panorama.86
As the fall in Genesis 3 began the tragic decreation of the completed
perfect creation, the exodus symbolized the fulfillment of creationitself
an act of new creation87 or the reclamation of creation.88 Within the
exodus narrative, Sabbath and tabernacle imagery nuance and symbolize
this fulfillment of creation motif (Exod 2531 and 35-40, respectively).
There is a sanctuary in both time and space, each the symbol and locus of
Gods special presence.89 In the final text of Exodus, the Lords holy presence
in the tabernacle is so near and real that even Moses, who has often been
privileged in approaching the Lord beyond the limits of others, cannot enter
the tabernacle when the glory of the Lord fills it (Exod 40:35; cf. 19:20-25;
24:12-18; 33:7-11; 34:2-3, 28-35).
Easley, 269.
Johnson, 216.
86
In other words, I AM (1:4, 8, 17; 21:6; 22:12; 4:8; 11:17; 16:5; cf. Exod 3:14);
the plagues and trumpets (15:116:21; 8:211:19; cf. Exod 7:1412:34); wilderness
difficulties and provision (12:6, 14; 17:3; cf. Exod 13:18; 15:22; 16:1; 19:1; Num 32:13;
Deut 29:5); peals of thunder, lightning, hail, and sounds (4:5; 8:5; 11:19; 16:17-21;
cf. Exod 19:16-19); the Passover (5:6; 1:5; cf. Exod 11:112:51); deliverance through
blood (1:5; 5:9; 7:14; cf. Exod 11:112:51); kingdom and priests (1:6; 5:10; cf. Exod
19:4-6); the Lord as Creator of heaven and earth (14:7; cf. Exod 20:11; 31:17); mark or
sign (13:16-17; 14:9, 11; 15:2; 16:2; 19:20; 20:4; cf. Exod 13:9, 16); erasing or keeping
names in Gods book (3:5; 17:8; 20:12, 15; 21:27; cf. Exod 32:32-33); covenant (1:6;
5:111:19; 21:3, 7; cf. Exod 2:24; 6:4-5; 19:5-6; 24:7-8; 31:16; 34:27-28); temple (11:1-2,
19; 16:17; 3:12; 7:15; 14:15, 17; 15:5-6; 8:3-4; 21:22; cf. Exod 25:8; 2531; 3540); and
God dwelling among his people (21:3, 7; cf. Exod 25:8; 29:45-46; 40:34-38).
84
85
Dumbrell, 167-171; Hafemann, 77.

Terence E. Fretheim, The Reclamation of Creation: Redemption and Law in
Exodus, Interpretation, 45/4 (1991): 354-365. When God delivers Israel from bondage
to Pharoah, the people of Israel are reclaimed from the human situation intended in
Gods creation. . . . Gods redemptive acts reclaim all that makes for life, including that
which is truly human. Redemption is in the service of creation, a creation that God
purposes for all (ibid., 358-359).
89
See Janzen, 337, 368-370, 423-424.
87
88
300
In keeping with this larger plot and structure, Revelation, too, tells of
true communion between God and his people, but pushes the imagery to
include how, in the eschatological reclamation, God will reveal his face (22:4).
The moral implications of such restored and intimate communion between
God and his people are likewise paralleled.90
Not surprisingly, and in conjunction with both creation and covenant
themes, one finds the Sabbath factoring large in the exodus narrative. In
particular, the Sabbath is articulated as the premier sign command, linking
ones worship, identity, and moral vision with God as Creator-Redeemer
(Exod 31:12, 17; 20:8-11; 35:1-3; cf. 16:22-30).91 Strategically positioned in the
heart of the covenant commands of the Decalogue, the Sabbath functioned
theologically and ritually as the focal command, representing the whole
covenant.92 As Adam and Eves ruptured relationship with God in Genesis
3 could be deemed a fall from the Sabbath, so also the exodus would both
symbolize and bring about a return to the Sabbath and all that it meant in
terms of Gods ultimate redemptive re-creation.93 Thus the reestablishment
of the Sabbath after the exodus parallels the first Sabbath after the sixth day of
creation. The link is made explicit in the heart of the covenant commands:
Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do
all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath of the Lord your God; in it
you shall not do any work, you or your son or your daughter, your male or
your female servant or your cattle or your sojourner who stays with you.
For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that
is in them, and rested on the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the
Sabbath day and made it holy (Exod 20:8-11).
There would be a restoring of the same kind of relationship that existed

between God and Adam and Eve in the garden.
In keeping with the exodus-envisioned re-creation experience,
Deuteronomys version of the Sabbath commandment links the seventh-day
Sabbath to the existential realities of deliverance:
Observe the Sabbath day to keep it holy, as the Lord your God commanded
you. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is
a Sabbath of the Lord your God; in it you shall not do any work, you or
your son or your daughter or your male servant or your female servant or
your ox or your donkey or any of your cattle or your sojourner who stays
with you, so that your male servant and your female servant may rest as
Lichtenwalter, Exodus and Apocalypse.
MacPherson, 270. There are hints that the children of Israel found it hard to
keep the Sabbath while in Egypt (Ps 105:34-35; cf. Exod 4:22-23; 5:1, 3, 5; Deut 5:1215) and that Sabbath was at least part of the reason for the exodus (Exod 5:5; 16:2230; Deut 5:14-15).
92
Ibid. By the postexilic period, the expression to keep the Sabbath appears
to be an equivalent of to keep the law. See Bernard Gosse, Sabbath, Identity and
Universalism Go Together after the Return from Exile, JSOT 29/3 (2005): 362-363.
93
Dumbrell, 61-81.
90
91
301
well as you. You shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt,
and the Lord your God brought you out of there by a mighty hand and
by an outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to
observe the Sabbath day (Deut 5:12-15).
With such compelling Sabbath imagery of the exodus in view, one cannot
help but wonder how or where Revelation would treat such things in its use
of the exodus. Again we ask, why would it be any different in Revelation?
If the Sabbath looms so large in the biblical-exodus narrative, from which
Revelation so thoroughly draws, wouldnt it be assumed and implied in
Revelation itself ?
Sabbath and the Exile
Israels exile to Babylon is the tragic outworking of the exodus covenant
promises and curses in the history of Gods people (Deut 2830; cf. Ezek
5:5-17). Within this covenant context, the Sabbath emerges as one of the
underlying reasons for both the exile (2 Chron 36:21; Jer 17:21-27; Isa 56:2,
6; 58:13-14; Ezek 20:13, 16, 21, 24; 22:8, 26; Neh 9:1, 16) and the ongoing
struggle for fidelity to God afterward (Neh 10:31; 13:15-22; Hos 2:11;
Amos 8:5). The prophetic vision of release from Babylon gave promise of
the freedom to keep the Sabbath in the worship of the Creator-Redeemer
(Isa 66:23; Ezek 44:24; 46:1, 3-4, 12). The eschatological perspective of the
coming new creation (and temple) heightened the Sabbaths prominence in
the moral/spiritual imagination of a new and faithful generation (Isa 65:1719; 66:22-23; Ezek 44:24; 45:17; 46:3).
While neither the pre-exilic fathers nor their children had respected
the Sabbath (Ezek 20:12-32), there would be a new generation who would
(Ezek 46:1, 3-4, 12; Isa 65:17-19; 66:22-23). Respect for the Sabbath would
be seen as the difference between these generations and those who returned
after the exile.94 Respect for the Sabbath would also permit entrance into the
house of the Lord, just as its profanation demands exclusion.95 This new
Sabbath-respecting generation is universalized in that both the eunuch and
the foreigner would be included among the people of God (Isa 56:3-8; cf.
56:1-2). The opening-up of access to foreigners is permitted by the very
special part played by the Sabbath. Thus Sabbath observance is a primary
criterion by which membership would be defined.96 The foreigners who join
the community are the proselytes who keep the Sabbath. In effect, keeping
the Sabbath plays an important part in the constitution and identity of the
community during the exile and after the return.97
In keeping with this focused identity formation, the Sabbath is linked
concretely with acting in a socially responsible manner and is placed in the
context of an emergent social vision of compassionate service, social justice,
Gosse, 367.
Ibid., 367, 369.
96
Ibid., 369.
97
Ibid., 359-363, 368.
94
95
302
and personal ethics (Isa 58:159:15).98 The ethical vocabulary in relation to

keeping the Sabbath is explicit: the Sabbath and holiness are linked.
Ezekiel further nuances the identity-shaping role of the Sabbath, with
clear links between the Sabbath and ones relation to God. The Sabbath was
the specific and symbolic sign (twOathe Greek equivalent is sh,meion) of the
covenant relationship by which God sanctified (made holy) his people: Also
I gave them My Sabbaths to be a sign between Me and them, that they might
know that I am the Lord who sanctifies them. . . . Sanctify my Sabbaths; and
they shall be a sign between Me and you, that you may know that I am the
Lord your God (Ezek 20:12, 20). The bridge between the vocabulary of
the Sabbath and the vocabulary of the covenant is clear.99 Other vocabulary
bridges in Ezekiel 20 include links between (1) the Sabbath and a specific
identifying sign, (2) the Sabbath and holiness, (3) the Sabbath and keeping the
law (Ezek 20:11, 13, 16, 21, 24), and (4) idolatry and the profanation of the
Sabbath (Ezek 20:16, 24, cf. vv. 27-32).
In the envisioned second coming into the promised land (see Ezek 20
and Isa 56:1-2), respect for the Sabbath must make the difference. So much
so that to keep the Sabbath appears to be an equivalent of keep the law.100
Sabbath is a concrete, observable sign that identifies ones relation to God
and the gods (the idolatry of false worship)whether or not one keeps the
Sabbath. Ezekiel (along with Isaiah) follows the exodus paradigm of fall from
the Sabbath to the return to the Sabbath in conceptualizing the eschatological
new creation and its temple.
See ibid., 359, 361; J. David Pleins, The Social Visions of the Hebrew Bible: A
Theological Introduction (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001), 263-270.
The context of Isaiah 4066 is the exile of Judah in Babylon and the period that
immediately follows. It deals with the community of renewal and the triumph of hope
over desolation. In Isaiah, the Sabbath is linked with acting in a socially responsible
manner and it is placed in the context of an emergent social vision in Israel, where
community renewal is the triumph of hope over desolations to come. That is why
the reference to Sabbath-keeping (Isa 58:13-14) is sandwiched between graphic
descriptions of both social and personal moral dysfunction and the call to an entirely
different way of being in the world (Isa 58:1-12 and 59:1-10 forming an inclusio). An
appeal to the Sabbath was especially appropriate in conjunction with exhortations for
social justice, because Sabbath observance was to be a reminder of Israels freedom
from bondage and her responsibility to treat her own servants in a humane fashion
(cf. Deut 5:12-15). See Robert B. Chisholm Jr., A Theology of Isaiah, in A Biblical
Theology of the Old Testament, Roy B. Zuck, Eugene Merrill, and Darrell Brock (Chicago:
Moody Press, 1991), 336. The two versions of the Sabbath commandment cannot be
divorced or played against each other, as both stress social implications and mentions
fellow human beings. See Jan Mili Lochman, Signposts of Freedom: The Ten Commandments
and Christian Ethics (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1982), 62. That Sabbath-keeping involves
compassionate ministry to others was clearly demonstrated in the life of Jesus (Matt
12:10-12; Mark 2:27; John 5:1-20; Luke 13:14-17; 4:16-21; cf. Isa 61:1-6).
98
Gosse, 363.
Ibid., 362.
99
100
303
Revelations concept of end-time Babylon the Great (14:8; 16:19; 17:113; 18:1-24) is rooted in the role of ancient Babylon in the OT and the exile
experience of Gods people. The name Babylon is chosen intentionally
to disclose the theological connection of type and antitype with Israels
archenemy.101 The historic fall of the Babylonian Empire, as predicted by
Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Daniel, becomes the paradigm of the fall of endtime Babylon. The literary correspondence posits a typological connection
between Israels history and church history.102 When the connection between
the theological essentials of both Babylons has been established, the Apocalypse
provides the end-time application.103 In effect, the moral/spiritual issues
surrounding Israels captivity by ancient Babylon, Babylons sudden fall,
followed by Israels exodus from Babylon and her return to Zion to restore
true worship in a new templewhich includes keeping the Sabbathwill be
repeated in principle. God will call his people out of Babylon in the time of
the end (Rev 18:4-5). This call is Gods initiative to reestablish his remnant
church and is part of his redemptive re-creation.
Given the unambiguous creation, covenant, and Sabbath context
underlying Israels exile to Babylon and envisioned second coming into the
Promised Land, one would naturally look for these three themes to be evident
somewhere in the theological essentials that Revelation applies to the crisis of the
end. We have already seen how creation/redemptive re-creation and covenant
are clearly so. Considering that Ezekiel provides the key theological/ethical
backdrop of Revelations captivity imagery and themes,104 one would expect
LaRondelle, How to Understand the End-Time Prophecies of the Bible, 344.
Ibid., 264.
103
Ibid., 344. The description of the collapse of end-time Babylon in Revelation
is based on the fall of ancient Babylon. This is the sense in which the theological
concept of end-time Babylon the great is to be understood in the book of Revelation
(Stefanovic, 447).
104
While John has more than one lead to follow and uses pregnant images and
themes from other OT texts, it appears that the primary framework of Revelations
visions is provided by Ezekiel (even more so than Daniel or Exodus). See Beale, The
Book of Revelation, 87; Steve Moyise, The Old Testament in the Book of Revelation (Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic, 1995), 74-83; Jean-Pierre Ruiz, Ezekiel in the Apocalypse: The
Transformation of Prophetic Language in Revelation 16, 1719, 10 (New York: Peter Lang,
1989). Ezekiel appears to be the dominant influence on nearly twenty major sections
of the Apocalypse (throne vision, Revelation 4, cf. Ezekiel 1; the scroll, Revelation
5, cf. Ezekiel 23; covenant curses, Rev 6:1-8, cf. Ezekiel 5; slain under the altar, Rev
6:9-11, cf. Ezekiel 6; coming wrath of God, Rev 6:127:1, cf. Ezekiel 7; sealing, Rev
7:2-8, cf. Ezekiel 9; scattering of coals, Rev 8:1-5, cf. Ezekiel 10; eating the scroll and
no more delay, Revelation 10, cf. Ezekiel 23, 12; measuring the temple, Rev 11:12, cf. Ezekiel 40-41, 43; Jerusalem and Sodom, Rev 11:8, cf. Ezek 16:43-63; cup of
wrath, Rev 14:6-12, Ezekiel 23; the Great Harlot, Rev 17:1-6, cf. Ezekiel 16 and 23;
laments for Babylon, Rev 18:9-24, cf. Ezekiel 2627; the birds supper, Rev 19:17-21,
cf. Ezekiel 39; Gog and Magog, Rev 20:7-10, cf. Ezekiel 38; the New Jerusalem/
temple, Revelation 2122; Ezekiel 4048; the river of life, Rev 22:1f., cf. Ezekiel 47).
101
102
304
the Sabbath (as in Ezekiel 20) to be present also, especially in an identitydefining role.
The Sabbath in Revelation 14:7
At almost the literary center of the Apocalypse, an angel proclaiming the
eternal gospel calls to all people on earth to recognize their Creator by
worshiping him: Fear God and give glory to him, because the hour of his
judgment has come; worship him who made the heaven and the earth and sea
and springs of water (14:7). The concentric structure of the book places this
call squarely within the books theological center, which unfolds the central
issues of the final crisis of earths history (11:1915:4).105 It unfolds a war
between the dragon and the remnant people of God (12:17), a war that is
fleshed out in more detail in Revelation 1314. Worship is clearly the central
issue (13:4, 8, 12, 15; 14:7, 9, 11; cf. 9:20; 19:10; 22:8-9). The explicit creation
vocabulary at this decisive center-point reflects an overarching creation/
covenant motif at play within the literary unit.106 It is here, at the interpretive
apex of Revelations chiastic structure, that the books most explicit Sabbath
language seems to appear.107
Creation Motif
Revelations call to recognize the Creator by worshiping him reflects an
overarching creation/reversal-of-creation motif at play within the unfolding
narrative (11:1915:4).108 Subtle allusions to Genesis and the fourth-throughWhile up to 130 Ezekiel allusions have been found in Revelation, it is the parallels
between the substance of whole single units of the Apocalypse and often whole
chapters of Ezekiel which makes Ezekiel the most important prophetic influence on
the Apocalypse (M. D. Goulder, The Apocalypse as an Annual Cycle of Prophecies,
NTS 27 (1981): 343, 348.
105
For discussion of Revelations chiastic structure and 11:1915:4 as both a literary
unit and the books theological center, see Bauckham, The Climax of Prophecy, 14-18;
Beale, The Book of Revelation, 131; William Shea and Ed Christian, The Chiastic Structure
of Revelation 12:115:4: The Great Controversy Vision, AUSS 38 (2000): 269-292;
Elizabeth Schssler Fiorenza, The Book of Revelation: Justice and Judgment (Minneapolis:
Fortress, 1998), 175-176; J. Massyngberde Ford, Revelation: Introduction, Translation
and Commentary (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1975), 46-48; MacPherson, 271-275;
Ekkehardt Mller, Microstructural Analysis of Revelation 411 (Berrien Springs: Andrews
University Press, 1996), 573-589, 608; Jon Paulien, Revisiting the Sabbath in the Book
of Revelation, JATS 9/1 (1998): 179-186; idem, The Deep Things of God, 122-123;
Trafton, 10.
106
MacPherson, 280-283; William Shea, The Controversy over the Commandments
in the Central Vision of Revelation, JATS 11/1-2 (2000): 227-229.
107
Paulien, Revisiting the Sabbath in the Book of Revelation, 183.
108
Bauckham, The Climax of Prophecy, 284; MacPherson, 280-283; Shea, The
Controversy Over the Commandments, 227-229.
305
the-seventh days of creation are evident.109 There is the woman (12:1-2, 5;

cf. Gen 3:1-6, 13-16), the serpent (12:3-4, 9; cf. Gen 3:1-6, 13-15), the seed
of the woman (12:2, 4, 13; cf. Gen 3:15), the life-and-death conflict between
the seed and the serpent (12:4, 7-9, 10-13; cf. Gen 3:15), the enmity between
the serpent and the woman (12:4, 6, 13, 15, 17; cf. Gen 3:15). There are the
heavensday four of creation, and, in Revelation, the woman is clothed with
the created lights of sun, moon, and stars into which the dragon intrudes (12:1,
3; cf. Gen 1:14-19). There is the seaday five of creation, which brought forth
great sea creatures producing after their own kind (Gen 1:20-23). Now a hybrid
and destructive beast rises from the sea (13:1). There is the earthday six of
creation, which brought forth the beasts of the earth and human beings made
in the image of God, who are given life by the breath of God and dominion
over the earth (Gen 1:24-31). Now a lamb-like, yet demonic beast rises from
the earth. An image is created into which life is breathed and life engendered.
Dominion marks all with the beasts mark (13:11-17). There is restday seven
of creation, during which God rests from all his work, forever linking the
seventh day with his holy presence and blessing (Gen 2:1-4a). Now there is rest
for the commandment-keeping saints who die in the Lord, while those who
receive the mark of the beast have no rest (14:11, 13).
This creation backdrop highlights the essential nature of the dragons
attack on God and his people. It is decreationthe reversal of creation. The
primal serpent disrupts Gods original order (12:3, 9), thus challenging the
Creator himself (12:3, 7-8; 13:6). His entrance into the earth turns the earthly
realm from goodness to utter chaos (12:13; cf. 9:1-2, 11; 11:7; 17:8; 20:13, 7-9a). A satanic trinity exercises dominion over all the earth, bringing
coercive deceit and illusion (13:12-17).110 They contest Gods rule as Creator
of heaven, earth, and sea.111 Their goal is to place their name upon all the
inhabitants of the earth. The mark of the beast signifies that all of creation is
now under the beast (13:16-17; cf. 13:8).112
The opening of the heavenly sanctuary at both the beginning and
throughout this literary unit (11:19; 15:5), together with the redeemed singing the
song of Moses (15:2-4), unfold redemptive re-creation activity, which not only
indicates the direction of the unit as a whole, but foreshadows the conclusion
of the book of Revelation. This countering of the chaos-engendering reversal
of creation is in keeping with the broad biblical theological pattern from which
Revelation draws. The call to recognize the Creator by worshiping him (14:7)
plays an integral role in this re-creation motif.
Covenant Motif
The forgoing creation/reversal-of-creation narrative is introduced with the
most specific covenant language in the Apocalypse: And the temple of God
MacPherson, 283.
Bauckham, The Climax of Prophecy, 284.
111
Ibid.
112
MacPherson, 282.
109
110
306
which is in heaven was opened; and the ark of his covenant appeared in
His temple (11:19). This clear reference to the covenant (h` kibwto.j th/j
diaqh,khj auvtou/), located in the opened heavenly sanctuary, is an integral part
of Revelations transition into the last portion of the book, which moves the
readers vision toward the new creation. This explicit covenant imagery looks
both forward and backward in that it encapsulates the heart of everything
that has gone before in the vision of the sealed scroll, seven seals, and seven
trumpets (4:111:18), and it signals what lies behind the issues that unfold
ahead (12:122:21)covenant realities.113 Most immediately, it sets the stage
for the appearance of Revelations faithful covenant community (12:1-2, 5-6, 1317; 13:7-8, 10; 14:1-5). They appear as the books first great sign in heaven:
a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and on her
head a crown of twelve stars; and she was with child; and she cried out being
in labor and in pain to give birth (12:1-2). While Revelation 12 covers the
whole of the covenant history of the Christian church,114 it begins with the
churchs essential identity and continuity with the covenant people of the past.
There is only one woman! There is only one dragon! Multiple attacks, yes,
but one essential worldview and covenant identity in relation to the CreatorRedeemer. The remnant, against which the dragon vents his frustrated wrath,
is the covenant community of the final crisis of earths history (12:17).
The explicit reference to the ark of the covenant highlight the covenant
commands, i.e., Ten Commandments, which were located in the Ark of the
Covenant (Exod 34:28; 26:15; Deut 4:13; 10:1-5; Heb 9:4).115 This allusion
to the Decalogue is further nuanced with specific reference to these covenant
Macpherson, 282, questions the duo-directionality of 11:19, asserting that it is
more narrowly focused as the introduction for chaps. 1215. However, the covenant
and sanctuary motifs at play in the throne-room vision, such as the sealed scroll, seals,
and trumpets (4:111:18), strongly suggest that 11:19 is duo-directional in perspective.
See Rev 11:19 as both an introduction to 12:1-17 and a conclusion of 11:15-18 (Aune,
Revelation 616, 661).
114
LaRondelle, How to Understand the End-Time Prophecies of the Bible, 265.
115
The reference to flashes of lightning and sounds and peals of thunder and an
earthquake and a great hailstorm is borrowed from language used to describe the celestial
manifestations on Mount Sinai surrounding Gods writing of the Ten Commandments
with his own finger (Exod 19:16-19). The covenant commandments of God are his
specified way of life within the covenant between himself and humankind. It calls people
to an ethical way of life, i.e., the wholeness and preservation of ones relationship with
God and with fellow human beings. That Gods covenant and its concrete commands
are with humanity as a whole (and not just believers) is implied in the refusal to repent
of violating the Decalogues concrete moral stipulations by those suriving the corrective
judgments of the sixth trumpet (9:20-21), as well as the call to people of all nations,
tribes, tongues, and peoples to fear God and give Him glory (14:7). If any analogy
is intended between the Ark of the Covenant and the seven-sealed scroll of Rev
5:1, then the connotation could be that the sealed scroll has to do with a covenantal
document consistent with the moral principles of the Ten Commandments (cf. 12:17;
14:12). Beale, The Book of Revelation, 342; Stefanovic, 367-368.
113
307
commands in relation to the end-time covenant community: So the dragon was

enraged with the woman, and went off to make war with the rest of her
children, who keep the commandments of God and hold to the testimony of
Jesus (12:17, emphasis supplied); and Here is the patience of the saints
who keep the commandments of God and their faith in Jesus (14:12, emphasis
supplied). Revelation is permeated with direct and indirect allusions to the
Ten Commandments, affirming their enduring covenantal nature.116 In view
of these many allusions, it would be hard to argue that the books explicit
vocabulary, the commandments of God (12:17, 14:12), does not stand for
both the Ten Commandments and the laws characteristic call to obedience
(Deut 6:1-2, 5-6; 11:1, 13-14, 22-24). The seventh-day Sabbath would naturally
be included in this imagery of the covenant commands and the implied covenant
faithfulness to those commands.
The prominence that the covenant commands play within this reversal
of creation/re-creation vision is heightened by the conceptual frame that
the heavenly sanctuary scenes of 11:19 and 15:5-8 form around chapters
1214.117 The heavenly visions of 11:19 and 15:5 form an inclusio,118 which
highlights the Decalogue as the particular set of commandments at issue in the
unfolding conflict.119 This inclusio emphasizes the fact that the central dispute
over creation/decreation and covenant faithfulness is related in particular
to the Ten Commandments.120 The implication is that the call to worship
the Creator God involves at least one of the commandments, if not the
References that allude specific commandments include the second, worshiping
idols (9:20; cf. 21:8; 22:15); the third, have not denied my name (3:8; cf. 21:8),
blasphemies against God (13:6); the fourth, Lords day (1:10); the sixth, murderers
and liars (21:8, 27; 22:18); the tenth, fruit you long for (18:14). See MacCarty,
199-200. That these covenant commands are for humanity as a whole (and not just
believers) is implied in the refusal to repent of violating its concrete moral stipulations
by those surviving the corrective judgments of the sixth trumpet (9:20-21). The
commandments of God are his specified way of life within the covenant between
himself and humankind. It calls people to an ethical way of life, i.e., the wholeness and
preservation of ones relationship with God and fellow human beings.
117
Both passages are set in the Most Holy Place, and both include manifestations
of the glory of God that recall the giving of the law at Mount Sinai (MacPherson,
273). Both refer to the heavenly sanctuary as being opened. Both imply the presence
of the covenant commands of the Decalogue. The heavenly temple is referred to as
the dwelling of the testimony because the law of God was located in the Most Holy
Place of the OT tabernacle (Exod 30:26; 31:7; 32:15; 38:21; 40:21; Deut 10:5). See
MacCarty, 201; Stefanovic, 479.
116
While one could argue for chiastic structure here, the simpler and more easily
defined principle of inclusio is used, in which materials included between the brackets
must be interpreted as influenced by the enclosing ideas.
119
MacPherson, 275; Mller, 608-609.
120
Shea, 229. This is in keeping with the link between law and reclamation of
creation in the exodus. See Fretheim, 362-363.
118
308
commandments as a whole. The interpretive import of this inclusio is that the

call to worship the Creator is framed by references to the commandments
of God, which, in turn, are framed by explicit covenant commands focused on
sanctuary imagery.
11:19Ark of the Covenant: Sanctuary Scene plus Covenant Commands

12:17Keep the Commandments of God and Testimony of Jesus

14:7Worship the Creator

14:12Keep the Commandments of God and the Faith of Jesus
15:5-8Temple of the Tent of the Testimony: Sanctuary Scene plus Covenant
Commands121
Sabbath Commandment
It is within this covenant-commands framework that explicit Sabbath language
seems to emerge: worship Him who made the heaven and the earth and
sea and springs of waters (14:7). Within the broader context of creationreversal taking place within this narrative portion of Revelation (1214),
these words assert the Creators sole sovereignty in those creation realms
in which the satanic trinity has intruded and brought chaos, i.e., heaven
(12:3), earth (13:11), and sea (13:1).122 In the wider context, the words
transport the reader back to the Genesis creation accounts. But given
the immediate covenant-commands context, the verbal and thematic parallels
with the fourth commandment are forceful. The words made the heaven
and the earth and sea are fourth-commandment expressions (Exod
20:11),123 suggesting strongly that Revelation has in view the seventh-day
Sabbath.124 The implication is that when Revelation describes heavens
final appeal to the human race in the context of earths final crisis, it
does so in terms of a call to worship the Creator in the context of the
fourth commandment.125 Again the interpretive import of the inclusio
highlights the implications:
Abridged and adapted from Shea, 217.

Bauckham, The Climax of Prophecy, 284.
123
Exod 20:11 is not the only passage within which these words are found and in
the same order. In Rev 10:6, the same words are used and in the same order, but with
expansion (who created heaven and the things in it, and the earth and the things in it,
and the sea and the things in it), although the word kti,zw (created) is used rather than
poie,w (made). Ps 146:6 contains virtually identical language in the LXX. Thematic
links to creation in each are obvious; however, the exodus and covenant-commands backdrop
nuancing Rev 10:6, along with the creation-reversal, redemptive re-creation motif, points
strongly to the Sabbath of creation, not just a general reference to the Creator as such.
Cf. Paulien, Revisiting the Sabbath in the Book of Revelation, 183-184.
124
The UBSs third edition of the scholarly Greek text indicates in the margin that
these words are an allusion to Exod 20:11, the fourth commandment.
125
Paulien, Revisiting the Sabbath in the Book of Revelation, 185.
121
122
309
11:19Ark of the Covenant: Sanctuary Scene plus Covenant Commands

12:17Keep the Commandments of God and Testimony of Jesus

14:7Worship the Creator in the context of the Sabbath of the

Fourth Commandment

14:12Keep the Commandments of God and the Faith of Jesus
15:5-8Temple of the Tent of the Testimony: Sanctuary Scene plus Covenant
Commands
The verbal and thematic parallels between Rev 14:7 and Exod 20:11
are both intentional and pregnant with implications regarding not only the
Sabbath in particular, but in the enduring biblical triad of creation, covenant,
and Sabbath in relation to the Creator-Redeemer and his envisioned
redemptive re-creation. In effect, they underline the unique role that the
Sabbath has consistently held both within the biblical scheme of things and,
more specifically, within the covenant commands.
As the inclusio strongly suggests, while the covenant community is
characterized as those who keep the commandments of God (12:17, 14:12),
the issue is not just any commandment of God. It is the seventh-day Sabbath
in particular that is in view. This is in keeping with the creation/covenant
worldview from which Revelation draws its understanding of moral/spiritual
reality and the issues at play. More concretely, Revelations underlying exodus
and Ezekiel themes further nuance the meaning of the language.126 In both
the books of Exodus and Ezekiel, the Sabbath is articulated as the premier
sign command linking ones worship, identity, and moral vision with God
as Creator-Redeemer (Exod 31:12, 17; 20:8-11; 35:1-3; cf. 16:22-30; Ezek
20:12, 20).127 Strategically positioned in the heart of the covenant commands of
the Decalogue, the Sabbath functioned theologically and ritually as the focal
command representing the whole covenant.128 As there was a fall from the
Sabbath, with its attending reversal of creation, there must be a return to
the Sabbath and all that it means in terms of the worship of God and Gods
ultimate redemptive re-creation.129 Keeping the Sabbath and keeping the
commandments were always synonymous.130 In Scripture, the Sabbath has
always been a concrete, observable sign, which identifies ones relation to
God and the gods (the idolatry of false worship). Not surprisingly, Revelation
appears to display this consistent biblical pattern.
The covenant commands, so prominently placed in Revelations narrative,
further suggest that the creation reversal therein includes rebellion against
Gods covenant law. Within the narrative, the forces of chaos threatening to
undo Gods creation subvert the very principles that promote and protect
Both of which are present in Revelation 1214.

MacPherson, 270.
128
Ibid. See Gosse, 362-363. This reflects both the theological and ritual aspects
of worldview as noted above.
129
Hafemann, 61-81.
130
Gosse, 362.
126
127
310
the life and well-being of the community.131 Their anticreational actions tear
at right relationships with God, humanity, and all creation (cf. 9:21; 21:8,
27; 22:15; 11:18).132 They create their own culture and their own worldview
(13:11-17; cf. 18:1-19). Gods objective, then, in both the everlasting gospel
(i.e., redemption, 14:6) and the covenant commands (14:7; cf. 14:12, 12:17) is the
reclamation of creation. Thus the thrust of the narrative is as ethical as it is
theologicaland certainly not abstract in the least.
In this setting, heavens call to worship becomes the focusing reality.133
The matter of worship comes to a head with the demand to worship the
beast (13:4, 8, 12, 15; cf. 14:9-11). Thus worship becomes the very heart of
Revelations solemn appeal. Do not worship the beast or his image (14:9-11);
rather, worship the Creator (14:7).
Not surprisingly various facets of worship come into view: confession
(who and how one worships), character (who one is, i.e., being), and conduct.134
The anticreation forces demand that they be worshiped. They prescribe how
that worship is to be (13:14-17). There is an ethic to go with that worship
(9:20-21; 18:4-5; 21:8; 22:19). The narratives parallels with Daniel 7 reveal
how divine time and laws are changed and truth is flung to the ground
(Dan 7:25; 8:9-14). These Danielic parallels reveal the essential continuity
of experience among the covenant people of God throughout history with
regard to the religious and moral issues evident as they face the question of
ultimate loyalties.135 The laws that the anticreational powers enforce become
sign commandments and tests of loyalty and allegiance. This sign of loyalty is
ritualized in a mark placed on the hand or forehead (13:16-17). In the end,
For discussion on the link between redemption, law, and the reclamation of
creation, see Walter Brueggemann, Bruce Birch, Terrence E. Fretheim, and David
Peterson, A Theological Introduction to the Old Testament (Nashville: Abingdon, 1999), 158;
Dempsey, 29-30, 42-45; Fretheim, 357-360.
131
132
Within the immediate context, these anticreational actions include deceit
(12:9; 13:14), accusation (12:10), persecution (12:13; 13:7), arrogant words (13:5),
manipulating power (13:12-14), blasphemy against God and his name (13:6), the
introduction of an idolatrous image (13:14-15), coercive economics (13:17), and
murder (13:10, 15).
133
The idea of worship constantly emerges as a central theme of Revelation,
esp. so in chaps. 1214. There is no book of the NT in which worship figures so
prominently, provides so much imagery, and is so fundamental to its purpose and
message as the book of Revelation. The ultimate goal of Revelations message is
to inspire the worship of God (14:7; 19:10; 22:9). See Beale, The Book of Revelation,
1129; Marianne Meye Thompson, Worship in the Book of Revelation, Ex Auditiu
8 (1992): 45.
134
Michael R. Weed, Worship and Ethics: Confession, Character, and Conduct,
Christian Studies 13 (1993): 47.
135
Beale, The Book of Revelation, 680-730; LaRondelle, How to Understand the EndTime Prophecies of the Bible, 291-320.
311
such worship forms character and determines conduct that further plunges
the world into chaos (cf. 9:20-21; Ps 115:1-8).136
Images of true worship are clear. It is the Holy Creator alone who is
to be worshiped (14:7). Accordingly, the covenant community would reflect
his character and way of being in the world (14:1-5). There is an ethic to go
with it (12:17; 14:12), ritualized in the keeping of the seventh-day Sabbath
(14:7). This implies that, at its heart, the ritualizing element of the mark
is anti-Sabbath.137 The mark of the beast is a parody or substitution
of the seventh-day Sabbath, the sign commandment of Gods covenant. It
both imitates and seeks to replace the Sabbath. In such a contentious context
(and the envisioned eschatological Babylon), Gods covenant community
will undoubtedly find it hard to keep Sabbath. Such obedience will demand
virtues of keeping, perseverance, and faith (12:17; 13:10; 14:12).138 The
seventh-day Sabbath will be a key reason for the second exodusCome out
of her, My people (18:4; 14:6-12).
At this point, the question is naturally asked, Why the Sabbath? Why
not just any commandment? What does the Sabbath intend? What would the
mark reverse?
The Sabbath as a biblical sign (Exod 31:12-17; Ezek 20:12, 20) and the
mark as sign (13:16-17) reveals differences between the respective characters
and the reign of God and of Satan. The Sabbath ultimately points beyond
creation and any created entity to God himselfthe holy Creator139 and
holy Redeemer (Isa 41:15; 47:4). As already noted above, the seventh-day
Sabbath and holiness are linked. As such, the Sabbath plunges human beings
into the midst of what comprises the nature of biblical holiness and what it
means to be in covenant relationship with God and others. The seventh-day
136
Worship is a constitutive act. Worship and ethics are inescapably related.
Confession, character, and conduct profoundly connect in worship, each impacting
the others. We become what we worship. See G. K. Beale, We Become What We Worship:
A Biblical Theology of Idolatry (Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 2008); Miroslav Volf,
Worship as Adoration and Action: Reflections on a Christian Way of Being-in-theWorld, in Worship: Adoration and Action, ed. D. A. Carson (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1993),
207; Weed, 47.
137
MacPherson, 278-280.
138
u`pomonh, (patient endurance, steadfastness, perseverance) is a key ethical
term in the Apocalypse (1:9; 2:2-3, 19; 3:10; 13:10; 14:12). In this decisive worship
context, it is defined together with thre,w in terms of ethical requirements, as well as
in terms of maintaining loyalty or allegiance to Jesus, i.e., their faith in Jesus (14:12).
Worship is characterized by obedience to God in keeping his commandments (14:12;
cf. 12:17). See Osborne, 543.
139
Gods holiness points to his uniqueness as Creator and to moral and ethical
concerns of the Godhead. Gods holiness points to his nearness, as well as his distance
to humanity, and is ultimately manifested for the purpose of saving sinful creatures.
See ngel Manuel Rodrguez, Spanning the Abyss: How the Atonement Brings God and
Humanity Together (Hagerstown, MD: Review and Herald, 2008), 17-19.
312
Sabbath was formed and filled with the holy presence of God (Gen 2:14a). It is holy because God fills it with his holy presence. It is not just a day,
but a holy Person that is in view. The Sabbath is about the very presence
of God; it is about Gods holiness in action,140 and it implies the holiness
of men and women.141 The seventh-day Sabbath has an irrefutable, implicit
social dimension.142 It plays an important part in the constitution and identity
of Gods covenant community.143 It is linked concretely with acting in a
socially responsible manner and is placed in the context of an emergent
social vision of compassionate service, social justice, and personal ethics (Isa
58:159:15).144 The Sabbath serves as a hinge commandment, pointing in two
directions (toward God and toward ones neighbor) and, at the same time,
fundamentally linking them.145
In contrast to the mark, which plunges one into the fallenness and
apostasy that Revelation envisions (18:4-5), and the books clear link between
idolatry and moral chaos (cf. 9:20-21), the seventh-day Sabbath reminds
Moskala, 64.
Jacques B. Doukhan, Loving the Sabbath as a Christian: A Seventh-day
Adventist Perspective, in The Sabbath in Jewish and Christian Traditions, ed. Daniel J.
Harrington, Tara C. Akenasi, and William H. Shea (New York: Crossroad, 1991), 156.
142
Moskala, 64.
143
Gosse, 359-363, 368.
144
See ibid., 359, 361; Pleins, 263-270. See Zuck, 336.
145
The principle of indivisible unity of the covenant commands is evinced in the
Sabbath commandment. It is not insignificant that within the Decalogue, the Sabbath
commandments placement is the symbolic link between the divine-human relationship
(Exod 20:4-11) and the human way of life, which is further addressed in the following
six commands (Exod 20:12-17). The Sabbath command takes the most space of any
of the ten in the two tablets. It is the only command that mentions both God and
neighbor together. See Kathryn Greene-McCreight, Restless Until We Rest in God:
The Fourth Commandment as Test Case in Christian Plain Sense Interpretation, in
The Ten Commandments: The Reciprocity of Faithfulness, ed. William P. Brown (Louisville:
Westminster John Knox, 2004), 223; Lochman, 67; Susan Niditch, Ancient Israelite Religion
(New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), 73. The indivisible unity of the covenant
commands is likewise illustrated in the imagery of the sixth trumpet, which links the
cults of paganism (idols of gold, and silver, and brass, and stone, and of wood)
with murders, sorceries, immorality, and thefts as an expression of the rebellion of
humankind against the rule of God the Creator (9:20-21). False worship and immorality
are closely linked. V. 20 focuses on sins directed against God (the first four of the Ten
Commandments, Exod 20:1-11). V. 21 directs our attention to sins directed against
other human beings (the last six of the Ten Commandments, Exod 20:12-17). When
human beings worship images (idols), they demonstrate disrespect for the true image
of Godtheir fellow human beings (Gen 1:26-27). No matter ones interpretation of
the sixth seal, the bottom-line issue is the matter of worship and ethics. The stark note
of moral reality coming at the close of grotesque symbolic imagery further highlights
the tangible realities of worship as ethical practice and conduct.
140
141
313
human beings of the creation power in divine holiness.146 Those who

observe the Sabbath participate in Gods holiness; through divine grace and
the Holy Spirits empowerment, they are strengthened and transformed so that
they can bring Gods holy presence into real life and perform creative moral/
spiritual work as new creatures in Christ (Heb 6:4-5; 2 Cor 5:17; Gal 5:16-24;
Eph 3:16). Such is implied in the vision of the 144,000, who have the Lamb
and the Fathers name in their foreheads and whose moral lives are blameless
(14:1-5).147 They both think and act like their holy Creator (1 Cor 2:10-16; Phil
2:5). Through divine grace, they experience, express, and proclaim the present
hope of redemptive re-creation, which God alone can bring in the midst of
Revelations formidable and encapuslating creation-reversing realities.148
The Sabbath and the Lords Day in Revelation 1:10
There is little doubt that Revelations initial vision of the risen Christ, which 1:10
introduces, is fundamental to the rest of the book.149 In keeping with the books
narrative character, it is a focusing vision that unfolds themes and prepares
one for understanding what lies ahead. Working from the presupposition that
the book of Revelation is a literary and thematic unity, the significance of the
phrase evn th/| kuriakh/| h`me,ra| (the Lords Day) in Rev 1:10 must be viewed
from its context in the whole book,150 as well as its serving as a marker, which
alerts the thoughtful reader to critical issues to come.151
In its immediate setting, the verse completes the description of 1:9, in
which John tells the story of why he was at Patmos and how he shares his
readers situation of faithful witness under trial. Evidently, it was important for
John to make three basic statements before he described his first vision. He
defines the specific place where he received the heavenly visions (I . . . was
on the island called Patmos). He gives the reason for his stay on the island of
Patmos (because of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus). Finally,
he establishes a temporal connection by defining a specific day when he heard
the loud voice behind him (I was in the Spirit on the Lords day). The vast
Moskala, 65.
The juxtaposition of the 144,000 and the call to worship the Creator in the
context of the fourth commandmentwithin the covenant commands inclusio (12:17
and 14:12)imply their relationship.
148
Revelation does not envision perfectionism, but rather transformation of life
and thoughtconversionthrough the eternal gospel (12:11; 14:7). See Larry L.
Lichtenwalter, Worldview Transformation and Mission: Narrative, Theology, and
Ritual in Johns Apocalypse, JATS 21/1-2 (2010): 211-244.
149
Richard J. Bauckham, The Lords Day, in From Sabbath to the Lords Day: A
Biblical, Historical and Theological Investigation, ed. D. A. Carson (Grand Rapids: Zondervan,
1982), 241. Barr, 37.
150
Bauckham, The Lords Day, 240.
151
Frey, The Theological Concept of the Sabbath in the Book of Revelation,
238.
146
147
314
majority of commentaries interpret the phrase the Lords day as a reference

to Sunday, the day when the churches met for corporate worship and on
the same day would read the book of Revelation.152 In so doing, they tacitly
affirm the essential historical and temporal nature of both the text and the day
referred to, i.e., the vision took place on a specific day. The Lords day was
the day on which Johns first vision took place. While part of the narrative, it
is not part of the vision itself.153
The Greek phrase evn th/| kuriakh/| h`me,ra| is unique in its form and its
meaning is debated. Among the options consideredthe eschatological
day of the Lord, Easter Sunday, the Emperors Day, Sunday, or the biblical
SabbathSunday is usually selected for two reasons: because of (1) the
temporal implications of the text itself; and (2) the external witness of
emergent Christian tradition, which ultimately would link evn th/| kuriakh/|
h`me,ra| with the first day of the week.154
Naturally, the question arises, though: Does one work backward (and
thus externally) from developments in Christian history to the text and its
meaningassuming such emerging tradition is faith-positive and in no way
evidences creation-reversal compromise and/or apostasy already at work
within the church or history?155 Or does one work forward (and internally)
152
For examples and discussion, see Aune, Revelation 15, 84; Bauckham, The
Lords Day, 240-246; A. T. Lincoln, From Sabbath to the Lords Day: A Biblical
and Theological Perspective, in From Sabbath to the Lords Day: A Biblical, Historical and
Theological Investigation, ed. D. A. Carson (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1982), 382-384;
Osborne, 83-84; Smalley, 51; Robert L. Thomas, Revelation 17, ed. Kenneth Barker
(Chicago: Moody Press, 1992), 91.
153
Discussions suggesting that Johns being in the Spirit on the Lords day was
essentially an ecstatic visionary phenomenon in keeping with similar in the Spirit
experiences later in the book (4:2; 17:3; 21:10) miss the subtle difference between
the passages in question. There is a fundamental temporal/spatial difference between
Johns first vision experience and the following three. John received the vision on
the Lords day rather than being brought into or taken to the Lords day. In each of
the following occurrences, John was transported elsewhere; i.e., into the throne
room, into the wilderness, or onto a high mountain. Given the narrative character
of the introductory information preceding Johns first vision one can conclude these
subsequent in the Spirit experiences likewise took place on the same Lords day.
154
Bauckham, The Lords Day, 221-250. Lincoln, 383-384, asserts that the
Lords Day is the designation for Sunday rather than the eschatological day of the Lord,
Easter, or the Sabbath, Bauckham has convincingly argued. Given the unambiguous
evidence from the second half of the second century, it is highly unlikely that John
writing to the churches of the province of Asia at the end of the first century would
use kuriakh/| hvme,ra| (the Lords day) to mean some different day. Thus Rev 1:10
provides evidence from the NT that by this time, at least in the churches in Asia Minor,
the first day of the week had become regularly observed in the Christian church and
was distinctive enough to be graced with the title of the Lords Day.
155
Both Bauckham and Lincoln build their case for Sunday as the Lords day
primarily from second-century usage, working backward and externally to the text,
315
from the text within the book of Revelation itself in order to discover its
contextual, intertextual, and theological origins, and only afterward move
outwardly to emerging traditions in Christian history in order to discover the
texts meaning in relation to those traditions?
Following the latter methodology plunges one immediately into the
compelling creation/covenant/Sabbath drama unfolding within the larger
narrativesuggesting that it is within this context that the Lords day must
be understood. Even so, one must begin with the immediate context and
vision to observe if similar themes are indeed present.
The creation/re-creation covenant motifs within Johns first vision are
subtle but nevertheless evident, such as the Tree of Life (2:7); the paradise
of God (2:7); numerous exodus images (1:10; 3:14, 17); images of pre-exilic
idolatry (2:20); and explicit eschatological sanctuary imagery (2:12-16; 3:1, 12).
Four designations of Christ in particular highlight the underlying creation/
covenant motifs: the faithful and true witness (3:14), the Beginning of the
creation of God (3:14), the first and the last (1:17; 2:8), and the living one
(1:17). As holy Creator, Jesus is the Firsthe is also the Last (cf. 21:5-6; 22:13;
1:8). He is the Omega-Consummator, who not only initiates creation, but also
consummates it in redemptive re-creation (2:7; 3:12, 21; 21:122:5; cf. 5:6-10,
13). Jesus is likewise faithful to his creation (the seven hurting churches of Asia
Minor, his people along the way, and the world at its close). As an allusion to the
Sinai covenant and the loud trumpet sound when God spoke the ten covenant
commands (Exod 19:16, 19), the description of a loud voice like the sound of a
trumpet places the entire book of Revelation into a covenant context (1:10).156
Surprisingly, Johns self-identity as a fellow partaker in the tribulation
and kingdom and perseverance which are in Jesus (1:9) not only connects
with the creation-reversing realities already experienced by the seven churches
in the first century, but thrusts the reader forward thematically into the deeper
anticreational conflict that lay on the horizon for both the churches and the
eschaton (1214). The word perseverance (u`pomonh,) links one thematically
assuming that such usage reflects positive traditions emerging within the Christian
community rather than any consideration of possible compromise or apostasy already
at work within the church by that time. Christian tradition thus determines their
exegesis and ensuing theology. For Bauckham, as a technical term, the meaning of
the Lords day must be the same as that of the phrase used in the second-century
Christian literature. Sabbath or the eschatological day of the Lord are thus discounted
(Bauckham, The Lords Day, 227). He asserts that, given second-century usage, the
very title makes it clear that the Lords day was the regular and most significant day
on which Johns churches gathered for worship (ibid., 245). John receives his visions
on the day when the churches meet for corporate worship and on the same day his
prophecy will be read aloud (1:3) in the church meeting (ibid., 240-241). Little or no
attention is given to the Sabbath as an option, i.e., either to the unambiguous allusion
to the fourth commandment in 14:7 or to other Sabbath-oriented nuances within the
text of Revelation as a whole (e.g., language, structure, chiasms, themes).
156
232.
316
to the future call to perseverance in keeping the covenant commands (14:12;

12:17; cf. 13:10). The word kingdom (basilei,a) encompasses the creation/
covenant/Sabbath realities of Gods sovereign rule over the world and his
control of its history.157 It also connects thematically and personally with the
true Lord of the Lords day (1:10). There is the Lords sovereign reignboth
rule and realm (1:5; 5:11-13). There is the vision of the Lords consummation
of that reign and the ultimate possession of the world (11:15). There is the
Lord himselfLord of lords and King of kings (17:14; cf. 19:16). There
on the horizon are the Kingdom city and the Kingdom people (2:7; 3:12;
20:9; 21:122:5; 19:7-9). Finally, and purposefully prominent in this inaugural
narrative vision, there is the day that celebrates and symbolizes that the Creator
alone is Lord.158 This can be none other than the seventh-day Sabbath of the
fourth commandment!159
The interpretation of the Lords day as the seventh-day Sabbath is put
forth not only by the creation/covenant themes within this opening vision
and larger context of the book of Revelation, but also by the larger biblical
witness. The OT designates the seventh-day Sabbath as my holy day, the
holy day of the Lord, the Sabbath of the Lord (Isa 58:13; cf. Exod 16:23;
20:10). The expression the Lords day sounds similar to Jesus words in all
three of the Synoptic GospelsThe Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath
(Matt 12:8; Mark 2:27-28; Luke 6:5).160
For a discussion of the book of Genesis as kingdom prologue in relation to
Revelations final consummation and the foundations of Gods covenantally administered
kingdom in relation to both creation and the Sabbath, see Kline, 34-38, 42-61, 215.
158
Ibid., 81.
159
While Baukham also argues that the issue of divine sovereignty is a central
theme of the Apocalypse, he builds the case for the lordship of Jesus Christ on both
his faithful witness until death and the vindication of that witness in the resurrection.
Thus John associates the choice of this day with Jesus resurrection on the first day
of the week (The Lords Day, 241-244). In doing so, he forgets that both within the
biblical witness as a whole and the Apocalypse in particular, the hope of resurrection
is dependent on the creative possibilities of the covenant Creator (idem, The Theology
of the Book of Revelation, 48, 51). Creation precedes resurrection, and resurrection is
an act of redemptive re-creation. It is the seventh-day Sabbath that points to the
creation power evident in the resurrection of Christ and holds out the promise of final
resurrection in the end (20:4-5, 13; cf. 2:8; 1:17). In this light, focus on Sunday would
essentially undermine the larger vision of Christ as Creator-Redeemer in light of the
final consummation. Linking resurrection to Sunday dismisses the continuity of Gods
acts and purposes in history. The resurrection of Christ does not stand out in isolation
or independence from creation.
160
230. The NT consistently refers to Sunday as the first day of the week (Matt 28:1;
Mark 16:2; Luke 24:1; John 20:1, 19; Acts 20:7; 1 Cor 16:2). The Gospel of John,
which is dated later than the book of Revelation, likewise refers to Sunday as the
first day of the week. It would be inconsistent if the Lords day meant Sunday in
the Apocalypse.
157
317
The reference, then, to the Lords day is clearly intentional, serving as a

marker that alerts the thoughtful reader to critical issues to come.161 Symbolic
to some degree, its real meaning unfolds within the book. It is probable
that John purposefully used this terminology in light of developments,
which the Spirit enabled him to see already happening in the church. If
indeed the Lords day points to the seventh-day Sabbath against growing
pressures developing toward abandonment of the Sabbath for the first day
of the week, it would highlight the crucial issues through history, especially
in regard to the end-time. Is it possible that if the language of the Lords day
was already beginning by Johns day among a compromising element within
the church, that he purposefully put a biblical twist to the terminology in
order to firmly anchor the truth of the seventh-day Sabbath in both history
and the eschaton? Or is it possible that the second-century usage of the
terminology reflects a twist put on it by an already compromising element
within the church?
Sabbath Language
Sabbath language can be identified in Revelations frequent use of the number
seven, as well as by the word rest. The number seven has had symbolic
value from the most remote times.162 The number seven occurs eighty-eight
times in the NT, fifty-six of which are in the Apocalypse. There are seven
menorahs, seven stars, seven seals, seven spirits, seven angels, seven plagues,
seven horns, and seven mountains. There are seven churches, seven blessings,
seven sanctuary introductory scenes, and seven promises of Christs coming.
In its very structure, Revelation is molded around the number seven.163 Seven
is the biblical number of completeness and fullness.
The biblical link between the number seven and the seventh-day Sabbath
is clear (Exod 20:8-11). The Genesis creation narrative presents God as
the Sabbatarian Creator and a Sabbatarian Consummator (Gen 2:1-4a;
cf. Mark 2:27; Rev 21:1-8).164 The number seven is woven into the creation
account, symbolizing completeness and fullness of Gods good creation.
Accordingly, human life was to have a sabbatical structure.165 The frequent use
of the number seven as the number of completeness and fullness implies that
the seventh-day Sabbath was paradigmatically used as a theological concept
for the entire book of Revelation. The number seven nuances the creation/
covenant motifs found within the book.
Likewise, Revelations concept of rest further suggests that the seventhday Sabbath rest and Sabbath consummation are underlying themes of the
Ibid., 238.
Doukhan, Secrets of Revelation, 27.
163
Ibid.
164
Kline, 33, 40, 78.
165
Ibid., 78.
161
162
318
book.166 The verb avnapau,w (6:11; 14:13to give relief, refresh, rest, relax)
and the noun avna,pausij (4:8; 14:11relief, rest, resting-place, ceasing,
stopping) are each used twice. These words are commonly employed in
the LXX to translate the Hebrew shabat.167 While no theological implications
seem to be at play in 4:8, the other three places are of interest.168 On one hand,
the death of Gods faithful people is described as resting for a little while
or resting from their labors; for their works follow them (6:11; 13). On the
other hand, those who have rejected and resisted the gospel do not have rest
day and night (14:11). Given the creation/decreation covenant commands
and the specific fourth-commandment, seventh-day Sabbath imagery already
at play in chapters 1214, the juxtaposition created in 14:11-13 between the
horrendous fate of worshipers of the beast and its image who have no rest,
day or night and the blessed dead in the Lord who rest from their labors,
the presence of intentional Sabbath-language becomes unmistakable.169
The threat that the worshipers of the beast and his image will never
rest echoes the declaration made to rebellious Israel regarding its rest in the
Promised Land: Therefore I swore in My anger, Truly they shall not enter
into My rest (Ps 95:11). This is instructive. The epistle to the Hebrews picks
up this theme of rest/no rest with soteriological and eschatological purpose
in relation to the seventh-day Sabbath (Heb 4:3-6), where it asserts: So
there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God. For the one who has
entered His rest has himself also rested from his works, as God did from
His. Therefore let us be diligent to enter that rest, so that no one will fall,
through following the same example of disobedience (Heb 4:9-11).170 Here
the ultimate or antitypical rest in Christ awaits the believer at the end of time.
It is a rest compared to the Sabbath rest of God in Gen 2:2 (cf. Heb 4:3-6). It
is a rest that the Canaan rest pointed toward (Heb 4:8-10). The Sabbath rest
initiated by God on the seventh-day of creation is the archetype of what rest
is all about. There are strong implications in the text that both the writer and
the reader were keeping the seventh-day Sabbath and that they could think of
heaven as one extended Sabbath rest.171
Parallel soteriological and eschatological purpose of the use of rest in
relation to the seventh-day Sabbath is found in Revelation. In Revelation, the
166
235.
Robert M. Johnston, The Eschatological Sabbath in Johns Apocalypse,
AUSS 25/1 (1987): 46.
168
Ibid., 47.
169
Ibid.
170
David A. deSilva, Entering Gods Rest: Eschatology and the Socio-Rhetorical
Strategy of Hebrews, Trinity Journal 21/1 (2000): 25-40; Luke Timothy Johnson,
Hebrews: A Commentary, ed. C. Clifton Black (Louisville, KY: Westminster John
Knox, 2006), 122-130; George R. Knight, Exploring Hebrews: A Devotional Commentary
171
Knight, 75-76.
167
319
final attainment of rest by the people of God will be a participation in Gods

seventh-day of creationhis everlasting Sabbathto be revealed upon the
re-creation of heaven and earth with the subsequent enthronement of the
Lord God Almighty and the Lamb (21:5, 22f.; 22:1-3).172 Sabbatical eternity is
an underlying theme in the book.173
Summary and Conclusion
This study shows how the seventh-day Sabbath is both a tacit concern and
an underlying theological concept with regard to Revelations worldview of
covenant in relation to creation and redemptive re-creation. It demonstrates
how Revelation places the Sabbath in the context of the entire biblical
message and addresses the theological and historical issues of the Sabbath
with respect to the fundamental end-time crisis of humanity in relation to
the covenant Creator. The biblical triad of creation, covenant, and Sabbath in
relation to the Creator-Redeemer and his envisioned redemptive re-creation
is an enduring one. The triad posits continuity in history and reflects a biblical
historicism that posits enduring themes within the creation/creation-reversal
conflict throughout history. It reveals how redemption, in effect, is in the
service of creation.174 It also makes evident that the theology of the Sabbath is
inextricably linked with the theology of the Sabbath within the larger biblical
canon. Any discussion of the Sabbath in the book must take place against that
broader conceptual canvas.
A covenant/creation bridge exists between the OT (Genesis) and the
NT (Revelation) in that Revelation not only parallels Genesis, but also fulfills,
completes, and perfects Gods creation into redemptive re-creation and the
Sabbath in the eternal rest of God. The parallels between the two books
include the issues and events of the last things on earth, including creation
and the restoration of creation as an eschatological reality. These issues touch
on human moral orientation and behavior in relation to the Holy Creator and
have a constitutive impact both for the individual and the community. The
Sabbath provides both a tangible and symbolic connecting link with these
fundamental theological and ethical realities.
Given the narrative, ritual, and theological roles that the Sabbath plays
within Revelations worldview in terms of conveying prophetic-theologicalethical truth regarding creation and covenant, is it merely a metaphor? In the
end, do we really need to keep the Sabbath?175 The answer is Yes! Why?
Because the Sabbath is one of the covenant commands that Revelation asserts the
saints will, literally, keep (12:17; 14:12). In keeping the Sabbath, one participates
in an observable sign that both shapes ones self-identity and demonstrates
Kline, 37.
Johnston, 50.
174
Fretheim, 359.
175
The question is an important one. Hafemann, 221, who outlines so eloquently
how the fundamental issue of redemptive re-creation is a return to Sabbath, essentially
abandons it as a reality for the believer in Christ.
172
173
320
ones relation to God, who alone is holy (14:1, 7; Exod 31:12-17; Ezek 20:12,
20). The Sabbath is not just an idea, but also a temporal realitya real day
rooted in creation past from which theological and moral meaning is drawn
(1:10, Gen 2:1-4a; Exod 20:8-11). Scripture affirms that the renewed creation
will worship the Creator from one Sabbath to another (21:5; cf. Isa 66:22-23).
Both the weekly and the eschatological Sabbath stand side by side in Johns
own experience and within his vision of the conflict of the ages and the
sabbatical consummation. The vision of the Sabbath consummation affirms
weekly rest.
Having shown that the Sabbath is present as a tacit concern and underlying
theological theme in Revelation, it still remains that the word Sabbath is
never mentioned in the book. Thus the question remains: Why would it not
be so clearly named? What is there about the Sabbath in Revelation that one
does not even need to make it clear, let alone mention it? What theological
reason would there be for it? Does absence of the word Sabbath in the
book of Revelation speak compellingly for its presence? When we scrutinize
the text for traces of the Sabbath, are we doing what the author made us do?
What God wants us to do? Does Revelation use the perceived absence of
the Sabbath as a way to bring us more deeply into the heart of the cosmic
conflict? Would ones search for the Sabbath in the book serve to bring them
into deeper relationship with the Creator himself ?
It is evident that Sabbath fingerprints are on nearly every page of
Revelation. Perhaps that is enough. Perhaps the very ambiguity has something
to do with the meaning of the words here is the perseverance of the saints
who keep the commandments of God and their faith in Jesus (14:12). It is
likely that Johns first readers would have still been keeping the seventh-day
Sabbath.176 Yet powerful forces may have already been at play to undermine
such keeping and confuse the real issues. That is why, in the end, the question
of the Sabbath is never about the Sabbath itself. It is about the Lord of
the Sabbath. It is about our holy Creatora Sabbatarian Creator, a Sabbathgiving Creator, and the Sabbatarian Consummation Creator.
Massyngberde Ford, 384.
176

THE SABBATH AS METAPHOR IN THE

SECOND CENTURY C.E.
Robert M. Johnston
Andrews University
Already in the Second Temple Period the Sabbath became a fruitful subject of
spiritualization and metaphorization, a tendency that took several directions.1
One important direction was eschatological. Psalm 90:4 (For a thousand
years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past) was useful for solving
various problems, such as how Adam could live 930 years when God had
said in the day that he ate the forbidden fruit he would die.2 This device was
easily applied to the creation week of Gen 1:12:3.3 One common schema
that resulted was the notion of the Cosmic Week, according to which history
would last six thousand years and then be followed by a millennium during
which the earth will rest.4 Another variation was six thousand years, followed
by a seventh, followed by eternity, corresponding to the septennate, followed
by Jubilee. This schema led easily to the idea of a timeless, never-ending
Sabbath at the end of time, inspired by Zech 14:6-7 (On that day . . . there
shall be continuous dayit is known to the Lordnot day and not night, for
at evening time there shall be light; cf. Rev 22:5).5
Perhaps related yet different from this eschatological Sabbath is Philos
idea of a transcendental Sabbath, according to which God in Heaven keeps
Sabbath all the time:
God alone in the true sense keeps festival. . . . And therefore Moses often in
his laws calls the sabbath, which means rest [avna,pausij], Gods sabbath
(Exod. xx.10, etc.), not mans, and thus he lays his finger on an essential fact
in the nature of things. For in all truth there is but one thing in the universe
which rests [avnapauo,menon], that is God. But Moses does not give the name
Robert M. Johnston, The Eschatological Sabbath in Johns Apocalypse: A
Reconsideration, AUSS 25 (1987): 39-50.
2
Jub. 4:30.
1
3
See Jean Danilou, La typologie millnariste de la semaine dans le christianisme
primitif, VC 3 (1948): 2.
4
Some early sources that use or assume some variation of this idea are 4 Ezra, 2
Baruch, Testament of Dan, Apocalypse of Moses, Life of Adam and Eve, Papias, and PseudoBarnabas (for discussion, see Johnston, 43). In Rabbinic circles the locus classicus is b.
Sanh. 97a-b.
5
Thus it is in 2 En. 33:1-2 and m. Tamid 7:4, as well as various midrashim on the
superscription of Psalm 92. Mek. Shabbata 1 on Exod 31:13 speaks of the World to
Come, which is characterized by the kind of holiness possessed by the Sabbath of
this world. We thus learn that the Sabbath possesses a holiness like that of the World
to Come.
321
322

of rest to mere inactivity. . . . Gods rest is rather a working with absolute
ease, without toil and without suffering. . . . But a being that is free from
weakness, even though he be making all things, will cease not to all eternity
to be at rest [avnapauo,menon], and thus rest [avna,pausij] belongs in the fullest
sense to God and to Him alone.6
It will be of interest that Philo uses the word avnapau,w, not the katapau,w of
Gen 2:2-3 and Exod 20:11 (LXX).
These conceptions of the eschatological Sabbath and the transcendental
Sabbath originated in Jewish thought, and they clearly were not felt to
nullify or replace the keeping of the literal seventh day of the week. Philo,
for example, not to mention the Mishnah, had much to say about the literal
Sabbath and its observance. Early Christians picked up and carried on these
interpretations, but they soon began to use them as a rationale for abandoning
the literal seventh-day Sabbath. The earliest unequivocal example of this is
the vigorously anti-Jewish tract that we call Pseudo-Barnabas, or the Epistle
of Barnabas, apparently to be dated near the end of the reign of Hadrian,
soon after the end of the Bar Kochba rebellion.7 Barnabas 15 makes three
points about the Sabbath. First, that Gods creating in six days and resting
on the seventh day means that in six thousand years the Lord will bring
everything to an end, for with him a day signifies a thousand years, and when
Christ comes again in judgment, he will change the heavenly luminaries, and
then he will truly rest on the seventh day (vv. 4-5). Second, flawed human
beings at the present time cannot keep the Sabbath holy because they are not
holy; but in the eschaton they will be able to do so:
Accordingly then we will truly rest [katapau,w] and sanctify it only when
we ourselves will be able to do so, after being justified and receiving the
promise; when lawlessness no longer exists, and all things have been made
new by the Lord, then we will be able to sanctify it, because we ourselves
will have been sanctified first (vv. 6-7).
Third, in place of the seventh day Christians celebrate the eighth day
(Sunday).8
The eschatological Sabbath and the transcendental Sabbath were ideas
first generated in Jewish thought but taken up by Christians, usually in a way
that was destructive of literal Sabbath-keeping. The third metaphorization of
the Sabbath, which I will call the existential Sabbath, is one that I have not
Philo, Cher. 86-90, trans. F. H. Colson and G. H. Whitaker, LCL (Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 1929), 2:61-63.
7
Barn. 16:3-4 is believed to refer to the building of the temple of Jupiter
Capitolinus on the Temple Mount in what was now to be Colonia Aelia Capitolina,
beginning in 135 c.e.
8
Barn. 15:8-9.
6
The Sabbath as Metaphor . . .
323
been able to trace to Jewish roots.9 It seems to have originated in Christian

circles.
Matthew 11:25-30 is a Synoptic logion10 so uniquely Johannine in tone
and flavor that it could be parachuted into the Fourth Gospel without
causing the least disturbance.11 R. McL. Wilson called the saying a Johannine
thunderbolt in the Synoptic sky.12 The second part of the logion is one of
the most often quoted passages in the NT: Come unto me, all who labor and
are heavy laden, and I will give you rest [avnapau,sw uvma/j]. Take my yoke upon
you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find
rest [avna,pausin] for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light
(Matt 11:28-30).13
Unfortunately, an artificial chapter division obscures the fact that these
words form the prelude to the Sabbath controversies in the next chapter
(Matt 12:1-14), where Jesus defends the lawfulness of his liberal use of the
Sabbath day. Human need, he says, may legitimately be succored on the holy
day, for it is lawful to do good on the Sabbath (Matt 12:12). As in Mark,
Matthews Jesus claims to be the final authority on the subject of Sabbathkeeping: for the son of man is lord of the Sabbath (Matt 12:8).14 It appears
At least I could not find it in Tannaitic sources or earlier. In later centuries,
something like it in the form of odes to the Sabbath rest seeps into Jewish liturgical
language.
10
Evidently from Q; the first part is closely paralleled in Luke 10:21-22.
11
Besides the content of the logion itself, even the form is reminiscent of the
Fourth Gospel. The use of avpokri,nesqai in this location to introduce this saying
is somewhat unexpected, though not quite unique. One would expect this word to
introduce a formal reply to a charge or a challenge (as in John 5:17), but here no
one has said anything for Jesus to reply to, for Matt 11:7-24 is pure monologue. The
word is characteristically, though not exclusively, used to introduce Jesus replies in
controversies, especially in the Fourth Gospel. A simple count of occurrences of the
word in all contexts yields fifty-five times in Matthew, thirty times in Mark, forty-six
times in Luke, and seventy-eight times in John.
12
Cited in Jan Helderman, Die Anapausis im Evangelium Veritatis: Eine vergleichende
Untersuchung des valentinianisch-gnostischen Heilsgutes der Ruhe im Evangelium Veritatis und in
anderen Schriften der Nag Hammadi-Bibliothek (Leiden: Brill, 1984), 60. Helderman notes,
however, the striking fact that the word avna,pausij is lacking in the Fourth Gospel
is perhaps because the author wanted to avoid a word that had developed Gnostic
associations, using instead the words cara, and eivrh,nh.
13
The words are probably a parody of Sir 6:23-31 and 51:23-27, where Wisdom is
the speaker. Cf. Craig S. Keener, A Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 1999), 349. The Matthean passage is distinguished from those in Sirach
in two crucial respects: Jesus is identified with Wisdom, and the Rest (avna,pausij) is
connected to the Sabbath by its contiguity with Matt 12:1-14.
14
Cf. Mark 2:27-28. It is remarkable that Matthew, like Luke, omits the first part
of the apophthegm, The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath,
9
324
that the original issue was not whether the Sabbath was to be kept, but how it
was to be kept.
In the LXX, avnapau,w and avna,pausij are Sabbath words.15 Often these
words are used to translate the Hebrew tbv, as well as other words associated
with the Sabbath, such as xwn, although they also are used for rest in a more
generic sense. Frequently, this rest is a gift of God, as in Isa 25:10 (LXX), a
fact that is a significant background of Matt 11:28. W. D. Davies and Dale C.
Allison see the verse as dependent upon the Lords word to Moses in Exod
33:14, My presence will go with you, and I will give rest.16
What is important to see is that Jesus in Matt 11:28-30 introduces a new
dimension to the idea of the Sabbath.17 The idea that is introduced here has
no parallel in Jewish literature that I have been able to find, though it is not
incompatible with the ideas of the eschatological and the transcendental
Sabbaths. I have called this rest that Matthews Jesus gives to the soul the
existential Sabbath.18 By placing the two passages in contiguous relationship
with each other Matthew links the interior experience with the day.
Before proceeding further it is necessary to note yet another variation
because of its later Gnostic development in relation to the foregoing
concept. In Rev 14:13, 11, we are told that they who die in the Lord will rest
(avnapah,sontai) from their toil, in contrast to the worshipers of the beast,
who will have no rest (avna,pausin), day or night, from their torment. The
which is regarded as the earlier part. See W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison, A Critical
and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel According to Saint Matthew (Edinburgh: T. & T.
Clark, 1991), 2:304, 315.
15
This can easily be seen by surveying the dozens of occurrences listed by Edwin
Hatch and Henry A. Redpath, A Concordance to the Septuagint and Other Greek Versions of
the Old Testament (Including the Apocryphal Books), 2d ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1998), 8081. See, e.g., Exod 16:23; 23:12; Lev 23:3; Deut 5:14. This point was laid out carefully
in an unpublished paper presented by Elizabeth Talbot, Rest, Eschatology and
Sabbath in Matthew 11:28-30: An Investigation of Jesus Offer of Rest in the Light
of the Septuagints Use of Anapausis (presented at the annual meeting of the Society
for Biblical Literature, New Orleans, 2009). Katapau,w and kata,pausij are synonyms
of avnapau,w and avna,pausij.
16
Davies and Allison, 2:288. Against this, however, is the fact that Exod 33:14
(LXX) has kata,pauein, not avna,pauein.
17
See n. 12, above.
18
According to one possible interpretation, the same or a similar conception is
seen in Heb 4:1-10, where the katapau,w word group is used because the passage is
a homily based on Ps 95:7-11, where that is the word that is used. See, e.g., Otfried
Hofius, Katapausis: Die Vorstellung vom endzeitlichen Ruheort im Hebrerbrief, WUNT 11
(Tbingen: Mohr, 1970); Judith Hoch Wray, Rest as a Theological Metaphor in the Epistle to
the Hebrews and the Gospel of Truth: Early Christian Homiletics of Rest, SBLDS 166 (Atlanta:
Scholars Press, 1998), 25-32.
325
future tenses used in this passage point to its eschatological fulfillment.19 But
in contrast to the eschatological Sabbath seen earlier, the emphasis here is
not on cosmic chronology, but on human destiny. Similarly in 2 Clem. 5:5
avna,pausij is a synonym for eternal life in the coming kingdom (avna,pausij
th/j mellou,shj basilei,aj kai. zwh/j aivwni,ou).20
The question may be raised whether these spiritualized understandings
of the Sabbath supersede the literal seventh-day Sabbath. A negative answer
can be given in the cases of the eschatological Sabbath and the transcendental
Sabbath, for both the Rabbis and Philo carefully kept the seventh day of the
week as the Sabbath. But what is the relationship of the avna,pausij of Matt
11:28-30 to the literal seventh-day Sabbath that is the topic of discussion in
the following passage in Matthew 12?
I would argue that a close analogy can be seen in the antitheses of Matt
5:21-32, where Jesus deals with the commandments Thou shalt not kill and
Thou shalt not commit adultery. He intensifies their force by underlining
their interior meaning. By showing their spiritual and larger meaning he does
not nullify their literal meaning. Similarly the deeper meaning of the Sabbath
in Matt 11:28-30 does not negate the significance of the literal seventh-day
Sabbath for Jesus, as indeed we see in the controversies that follow in the
next chapter. The idea seems to be that the weekly Sabbath day is ideally the
school of Christ for receiving the rest of soul to which the day points. Thus
this logion does for the Sabbath commandment what Matt 5:21-32 does for
the commandments against murder and adultery.21
Cf. Johnston, 47; Helderman, 60.
This may be the meaning of Rest also in Odes Sol. 11:12, but it could be
speaking of a present experience. Such is the nature of the Ode that the metaphor is
ambiguous.
21
The antitheses of Matthew 5, when formally analyzed, have three parts: (1) the
protasis, which states the conventional teaching, You have heard it said (e.g., Matt
5:21); (2) the epitasis, in which Jesus contrasts his own teaching, but I say unto you
(e.g., 5:22); and (3) the catastasis, in which he reinforces his teaching in various ways
such as practical examples, Therefore . . . (e.g., 5:23-26). The passage in Matt 11:28
12:13 does not follow this neat pattern, but its elements are there by implication. The
protasis is the Pharisaic rules about Sabbath-keeping. Thus m. abb. 7:2 forbids reaping
and threshing, a reasonable deduction from Exod 34:21. When the disciples of Jesus
plucked ears of grain and rubbed off the husks to satisfy their hunger, it was seen as
breaking this rule. Although the halakah permitted the Sabbath to be overridden in the
case of a life-threatening emergency (i.e., the principle of #$pn xwqp, mortal danger;
see e.g., Mek. Shabbata 1 on Exod 31:13), Jesus, in Matt 12:9-13, healed a chronic
affliction that was not life-threatening, as was the case in nearly all of his Sabbath
healings. The implied epitasis was: I, who am the Lord of the Sabbath, give rest from
your burdens by alleviating human physical need that distracts from devotion to God
and that symbolizes spiritual need. The Sabbath is a day for physical and spiritual
healing and doing good. The catastasis is illustrated by the two examples of applying
19
20
326
According to the Matthean Jesus, the scribes and Pharisees in disputation

with Jesus were missing this meaning of the Sabbath. They had the Sabbath
day, but not the Sabbath experience. They kept the Sabbath outwardly, but not
inwardly. From his perspective, they represented one kind of error22 regarding
the Sabbath: they separated the day from the experience and discarded the
experience. But in making this point, Matthew opened up the possibility
of committing the opposite error of replacing the literal day with a vague
spiritualization.
This opposite error is represented by the Gnostics.23 They also separated
the day from the experience, but discarded the day. If the Pharisees put too
much emphasis on externals (using Matthews perspective as the reference
point), the Gnostics despised externals. Their radical dualism meant a rejection
of everything material and physical and of everything literal, for the literal
meaning of the Scriptures was, like the body, without value. The only thing
of value is the spirit and the spiritual meaning of the text.24 Accordingly,
this insight in 12:1-13.
22
The word error implies a value judgment, but I intend it in a historical sense:
I am taking what I believe to be Matthews perspective as the point of reference, and
hence the standard by which other views are being compared.
23
About Gnosticism, there is now a vast literature. It probably arose from within
Christianity, as the existence of a pre-Christian Gnosis has not been proved, but it is not
impossible that it arose phoenix-like from the ashes of Jerusalem among disillusioned
Jews after a.d. 70. Besides being radically dualistic, it was antinomian and typically
anti-Judaistic. It was stoutly opposed by the Christian writers who were subsequently
adjudged orthodox, but not without their being consciously or unconsciously affected
by it. Some modern treatments of Gnosticism include Kurt Rudolph, Gnosis: The
Nature and History of Gnosticism (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1983); R. M. Grant,
Gnosticism and Early Christianity, 2d ed. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1966);
Charles W. Hedrick and Robert Hodgson, eds., Nag Hammadi, Gnosticism, and Early
Christianity (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1986); Simone Ptrement, A Separate God: The
Christian Origins of Gnosticism (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1990); Hans Jonas,
The Gnostic Religion: The Message of an Alien God and the Beginnings of Christianity, 2d ed.
(Boston: Beacon Press, 1963); Edwin Yamauchi, Pre-Christian Gnosticism: A Survey of the
Proposed Evidences (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1973); Giovanni Filoramo, A History of
Gnosticism (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1990).
24
Our knowledge of ancient Gnostic thought has been greatly expanded by the
discovery and publication of the trove of fourth-century Coptic language codices
discovered near Nag Hammadi in Upper Egypt. The most authoritative English
translations with introductions are those in James M. Robinson, gen. ed., The Nag
Hammadi Library in English, rev. ed. (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988). To the Nag
Hammadi codices are added two other manuscripts from the separately discovered
Berlin Papyrus 8502. The various modern translators are not consistent, however,
in their translation of avna,pausij (the Greek term is carried over unchanged into the
Coptic): some have rest; others translate it repose. For this reason, I will use an
327
the true Sabbath rest is not a literal day, but an exalted experience or mystical
state. So for the Gnostic Christians the avna,pausij of Matt 11:28-30 became a
point of departure for doctrines that would have been recognized by neither
Jesus nor Matthew.
The process of transition from literal to spiritual is illustrated in
perhaps the best known work in the Nag Hammadi collection, the so-called
Gospel of Thomas, in Codex II. It is of special interest for several reasons, but
two stand out:
First, fragments of the work in the original Greek, discovered at the site
of Oxyrhyncus in Egypt, have been known for more than a century.25 The
earliest of the Greek fragments comes from the second century, and when
compared to the fourth-century Coptic version, they reveal that the text was
somewhat fluid, undergoing various modifications. It is possible to detect
a subtle intensification of the Gnostic flavor with the passing of time and
indeed, even in its Coptic form, it lacks some Gnostic features.26
Second, the work consists of a collection of sayings attributed to Jesus,
without any narrative setting and without any obvious logical order.27 The
discovery of this document gave credence to the reality of the putative Q
source, assumed to have been used by Matthew and Luke, and which was also
a collection of dominical sayings. Many of the sayings in the Gospel of Thomas
have parallels in the canonical Gospels, but many do not.28 Scholars have long
debated whether the Gospel of Thomas is dependent on the canonical Gospels,
therefore secondary to them, or whether it represents an independent witness
to the transmission of Jesus sayings. It is the second view that has largely
prevailed.29 The picture that we are getting is that there was an original JewishChristian collection of the teachings of Jesus,30 quite likely dating from the
eclectic translation where necessary and consistently render avna,pausij (rest).
25
Pap. Oxy. 1, 654-655.
26
Translations of the Coptic version and the Greek fragments are laid out in
parallel columns by J. K. Elliott, The Apocryphal New Testament: A Collection of Apocryphal
Christian Literature in an English Translation (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997), 135-141.
27
Modern editors have numbered the sayings, finding 114 of them. Consequently,
we now refer to the work in terms of the logion number.
28
Elliott, 133-135, supplies a complete list of parallels. See also A. Guillaument
et al., The Gospel According to Thomas: Coptic Text Established and Translated (Leiden: Brill,
1959), 59-62.
29
Thus Helmut Koester, Introduction to the Gospel of Thomas in Robinson,
125; Marvin Meyer, trans. and ed., The Gospel of Thomas: The Hidden Sayings of Jesus
(San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1992), 13. This does not mean, however, that
everyone agrees with Koesters judgment that the Gospel of Thomas transmits a more
original version of the sayings than the canonical Gospels.
30
Even in its fourth-century form, the Gospel of Thomas still bears marks of its
328
first century, which, in the hands of people with a Gnostic orientation,

suffered transformation into a document setting forth their views. This is not
unlike what other Gnostic literature does with canonical Scriptures.
The Jesus of the Gospel of Thomas is a dispenser of enigmatic wisdom.
As Marvin Meyer aptly says, In contrast to the way in which he is portrayed
in other gospels, particularly New Testament gospels, Jesus in the Gospel of
Thomas performs no physical miracles, reveals no fulfillment of prophecy,
announces no apocalyptic kingdom about to disrupt the world order, and dies
for no ones sins.31 Salvation does not come by his blood, but by understanding
his mysterious sayings: Whoever finds the interpretation [hermeneia] of these
sayings will not taste death (Gos. Thom. 2, brackets original).
Six sayings in the Gospel of Thomas speak of Sabbath or Rest (avna,pausij):
2, 27, 50, 51, 60, 90. One uses the word Sabbath, and the others Rest. The
Gos. Thom. 27 survives in both Coptic and Greek (Pap. Oxy. 1).32 The Greek
has: Unless you fast to the world, you shall in no way find the Kingdom
of God; and unless you sabbatize the sabbath [eva.n mh. sabbati,shte to.
sa,bbaton], you shall not see the Father. The only significant difference in
the Coptic is the change of Kingdom of God to simply Kingdom, which
represents a closer conformity with Gnostic thought. The Coptic translator
also apparently had difficulty with the expression sabbatize the Sabbath
(which is indeed awkward also for the English translator!) and so rendered it
(roughly) as keep the Sabbath as Sabbath.33
Tjitze Baarda has studied this saying very intensively,34 acknowledging
that the saying may go back to a Jewish-Christian form criticizing the wrong
observance of the Sabbath, so that the sense may be If you do not truly
keep the Sabbath, or If you do not keep the true Sabbath, or also If you do
not make the Sabbath a real Sabbath.35 This would be in line with what Jesus
Jewish-Christian roots. Thus in saying 12, when the disciples ask Jesus who will be
their leader after he departs, Jesus says: Wherever you have come, you will go to
James the Just, for whose sake heaven and earth came into being. Parallels to this
manner of speaking are common in the Rabbinic literature. See, e.g., b. Sanh. 98b.
Meyer, 10.
Pap. Oxy. 1 dates from the second century and is the oldest of the three Greek
fragments.
33
A similarly awkward passage occurs in Ign. Magn. 9:1, mhke,ti sabbati,zontej
avlla. kata. kuriakh/n zwh.n zw/ntej.
34
T. Baarda, If You Do Not Sabbatize the Sabbath. . .: The Sabbath as God or
World in Gnostic Understanding (Ev. Thom., Log. 27), in The Knowledge of God in the
Graeco-Roman World, ed. R. Van den Broek, T. Baarda, and J. Mansfeld (Leiden: Brill,
1988), 178-201.
35
Ibid., 199. Baarda cites authors supporting each of these renderings. The first
part of the saying, he says, may have originally come from an encratite or ascetic
source. Meyer, 81, says keeping the sabbath a[s] sabbath seems to imply that one
31
32
329
apparently meant in Matt 11:28-30. But Baarda concludes that, whatever the
saying may have meant in its original source, the Gospel of Thomas as we have
it has transformed the meaning of the saying so that its significance is quite
different.
Baarda concludes that the two parts of the saying make a parallelism and
thus say the same thing.36 Fasting from the world means the same thing as
Sabbatizing the Sabbath, and world and Sabbath are equivalent. But
the Gospel of Thomas opposes literal fasting (Gos. Thom. 6, 14, 104). These
passages demonstrate that within a Gnostic setting there is a rather critical
attitude towards religious duties or ceremonial prescriptions commonly found
in Judaism and early Christianity. . . . [These] are merely outward expressions
of religion which the Gnostic believer due to his interiorization of faith or
knowledge, does not value.37 Fasting from the world is, therefore, a metaphor
for the total denial of present reality of the Cosmos and its Creator to enable
the finding of the true reality of the Kingdom and the Father.38
Thus Baarda finds that Sabbath is almost synonymous with world
and its creator, Yaldeabaoth, the demiurgic god of the Jews, the god of this
world. To sabbatize the Sabbath means to come to rest with respect to the
Sabbath/world,39 that is, to become fully detached from it. So Sabbath
represents a negative thing. But Rest (avna,pausij) is, on the contrary, the
ultimate goal of the Gnostic. Thus the Gnostics radically separated and
placed in opposition to each other Sabbath and Rest, just as they separated
body and spirit, and Jesus and Christ.
We now turn to Gos. Thom. 2, which also has been preserved in both
Greek (Pap. Oxy. 654) and Coptic. As we compare the two versions, we find
that the Coptic drops the reference to Rest. The Greek reads as follows:
[Jesus said]: Let him who seeks not cease seeking until he finds, and when
he finds he shall wonder; having wondered he shall reign [basileu,sei], and
reigning he shall rest [avnapah,setai]. The Coptic has: Jesus said: Let him
should rest in a truly significant way and separate oneself from worldly concerns.
Uwe-Karsten Plisch, following a suggestion from Peter Nagel, takes sa,bbaton in the
sense of week and translates: If you do not take the (entire) week into a Sabbath,
you will not see the Father (The Gospel of Thomas: Original Text with Commentary, trans.
Gesine Schenke Robinson [Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2008], 93).
36
Baarda, 195-199.
37
Ibid., 198. Cf. Rudolph, 263.
38
Baarda, 199. As is well known, Gnostics despised the creation of the material
world and its creator god, who (in their view) is a bungling inferior god or demiurge.
The God of light, the Father, is not responsible for the mess that is the material
world, or for the physical bodies in which the spirits have been entombed. For a
comprehensive account of Gnostic teachings, see Rudolph, 53-272.
39
Baarda, 200-201.
330
who seeks not cease seeking until he finds, and when he finds, he will be
troubled, and when he has been troubled, he will marvel and he will reign
over the All.40 Helmut Koester and Elaine Pagels see the saying as presenting
an eschatological timetable. . . . The disciples have sought and found and
marveled, but their ruling and resting will come only in the future. At the
present time, they still carry the burden of the flesh.41
The idea is somewhat unpacked in another work from Nag Hammadi,
called the Dialogue of the Savior.42 In Dial. Sav. 49-50, Judas says, Behold!
The archons43 dwell above us, so it is they who will rule over us! The Lord
says, It is you who will rule over them! In Dial. Sav. 65-66, Matthew says,
Why do we not rest right now? The Lord says, When you lay down these
burdens. This will happen when you abandon the works which will not be
able to follow you, then you will rest (Dial. Sav. 68). (It is difficult not to see
here a deliberate contradiction to Rev 14:13.) We find here, then, the meaning
of ruling and resting. The Gnostics will overcome the rule of the Archons
and will find rest. When? Ultimately, when at death they are liberated from the
flesh born of woman. Using a metaphor also found in the Gospel of Thomas
(21, 37), Dial. Sav. 85 says the release will come when they strip off their
bodies: But you, as children of truth, not with these transitory garments are
you to clothe yourselves. Rather, I say to you that you will become blessed
when you strip yourselves! Then they will find Rest in him who is always at
Rest.
When the soul of the Gnostic rises from the world to return to the
Realm of Light, from which it had been separated and cast into a stinking
body, it is interrogated by the Archons, which it must pass. In Gos. Thom. 50,
Jesus coaches them about what to say:
If they say to you: From where have you originated? say to them We
have come from the Light, where the Light has originated through itself.
It stood and it revealed itself in their image. If they say to you: Who are
you? say we are His sons and we are the elect of the Living Father. If
For a discussion of the composition of this and parallel sayings, see Ernst
Bammel, Rest and Rule, VC 23 (1969): 88-90.
41
Helmut Koester and Elaine Pagels, Introduction to Dialogue of the Savior
in Robinson, 245.
42
Dialogue of the Savior is commonly referred to in terms of its location in the Nag
Hammadi library: Codex number, page number, line number, thus: III, 121.4. But it is
susceptible to being divided up into logia of Jesus and his disciples; this has been done
by its modern editors. I shall thus refer to it, using the saying numbers in Robinson,
246-255.
43
In Gnostic thought, the Archons are the principalities and powers that, together
with the god of this world, rule over the world and the souls imprisoned in it, imposing
onerous law and fate.
40
331
they ask you: What is the sign of your Father in you? say to them: It is
movement and Rest [avna,pausij].
That is, they have internalized the attributes of the God of Light, who
always lives and rests.
The Gos. Thom. 51 introduces another dimension: His disciples said to
him: When will the Rest of the dead come about and when will the new world
come? He said to them: What you await has already come, but you know it
not. We find here the Gnostic-realized eschatology. Because the Gnostic
knows that the Father is Rest, he himself is already resting in the Father, he
is already resting with respect to this world and its creator/sabbath.44 It is a
case of already-but-not-yet, a future hope, yet a present experience. The
Kingdom of the Father is known to the Gnostic, though the world sees it not.
The Gnostic knows that he came from the Kingdom and will return to it, and
because of this enlightenment he has the Rest. It is within him. The Gospel of
Truth, a Valentinian Gnostic work, explains it thus:
Since the deficiency came into being because the Father was not known,
therefore, when the Father is known, from that moment on the deficiency
will no longer exist. As in the case of the ignorance of a person, when he
comes to have knowledge [gnw/sij], his ignorance vanishes of itself, as the
darkness vanishes when the light appears, so also the deficiency vanishes in
the perfection (Gos. Truth 24-25).
By dying to the world through knowledge, the Gnostic is already perfect,

already at rest. By definition, he cannot sin. He is free from all law because
he is no longer subject to the Archons and the Demiurge. He is not of the
material world, and he is not wedded to his body.45 He is detached from all
of that.
The Gos. Thom. 60 uses an extravagant metaphor: You too, look for a
place for yourselves within Rest, lest you become a corpse and be eaten. As
Kurt Rudolph remarks, Repose and safety are expressions for the possession
of redemption which is attained already in this world.46
Finally we come to the Gos. Thom. 90: Jesus said, Come unto me, for my
yoke is easy and my lordship is mild, and you will find Rest for yourselves.
Gnostic use of the saying in Matt 11:28-30, whether quotation, allusion,
or parallel, was frequent.47 Here Jan Helderman points out an important
difference from the canonical version that should not be overlooked. In
Matthew, Jesus gives Rest (11:28), but the Gnostic himself achieves Rest
Baarda, 201.
One is struck by the similarity of the concept of vAna,pausij in Gnosticism to
the concept of Nirvana in Buddhism and classical Hinduism.
46
Rudolph, 221.
47
For references, see Helderman, 114.
44
45
332
through his renunciation and forsaking of the material world.48 The Matthean
avna,pausij is a gift, not an achievement.49
vAna,pausij, as Helderman abundantly demonstrates, is a major motif in
the Gospel of Truth,50 but here I must limit myself to one passage that explicitly
mentions the Sabbath:
He is the shepherd who left behind the ninety-nine sheep which were not
lost. He went searching for the one which had gone astray. He rejoiced
when he found it, for ninety-nine is a number that is in the left hand which
holds it. But when one is found, the entire number passes to the right hand.
As that which lacks the onethat is, the entire right handdraws what was
deficient and takes it from the left-hand side and brings it to the right, so
too the number becomes one hundred. It is the sign of the one who is in
their sound; it is the Father. Even on the Sabbath, he labored for the sheep
which he found fallen into the pit. He gave life to the sheep, having brought
it up from the pit in order that you might know interiorlyyou the sons
of interior knowledgewhat is the Sabbath, on which it is not fitting for
salvation to be idle, in order that you may speak from the day from above,
which has no night, and from the light which does not sink because it is
perfect.51
This is an interesting passage for several reasons. It is partly, as I have

argued elsewhere,52 a permutation of an apocalyptic passage. But here we are
concerned to know what the Gnostics understood by it.
It is part of a passage dependent upon Matt 12:11 and possibly John
5:17, exhorting the spiritual Gnostics to do the mission work of awakening
the imprisoned spirits to their true nature. It holds up no less an example
than the Son as Savior. He was active on the Sabbath, but with what meaning?
The Gospel of Truth goes on to say, Say, then, from the heart that you are the
perfect day and in you dwells the light that does not fail (32:311-333). Baarda
argues for the implication that the Sabbath, by contrast, is not the perfect day
(indeed, the perfect day is not a day), and the passage describes the saving
Ibid. Of course, if one took only Matt 11:29 without v. 28, the case would not
be as clear. However that may be, Helderman, 114, is correct in pointing out that after
the Gnostic has received the enlightening revelation it is up to him.
49
Augustine, however, overstated matters when he said, Christ is the true
Sabbath (cited in Davies and Allison, 2:287). Jesus does not say that he is the Rest,
but that he gives the Rest.
50
The Gospel of Truth probably dates from the middle of the second century,
and whether or not it was written by Valentinus himself, it certainly represents the
Valentinian brand of Gnosticism. It exhibits a reconceptualizing of the NT writings
upon which it is based. See the introduction by Harold W. Attridge and George W.
MacRae in Robinson, 38-39.
51
Gos. Truth 31.3632.31.
52
Johnston, 49.
48
333
activity of the Savior of the world. The Sabbath is identified with the created
world and the creator demiurge, as Baarda interpreted it in Gos. Thom. 27. He
is able to cite other Gnostic references, such as the Interp. Know. 11, where
spiritual slumber brought labor and the Sabbath which is the world.53
All this be as it may, whether the Sabbath represents something positive
(like the Pleroma), or something negative (like the world or the demiurge god
of the Jews who created it), it can be agreed that it is being used in Gnostic
literature as a metaphor for something that is not a day of the week. It is also
clearly not identical with the Rest (avna,pausij), which is reabsorption into the
Father of Light who is always at rest.
There are a great number of other relevant passages that we cannot
review here, nor is it necessary to do so.54 They will only reinforce what we
have already seen in the Gnostic literature. Basically, this can be summarized
as follows. The Sabbath and the Rest are quite different things. Whether literal
or metaphysical, the Sabbath is representative of this dark world. The Rest to
which the Savior summons the spiritual people (Gnostics) is the Rest from
which they primordially fell. It is a return to the Fathers Realm of Light, so that
which was lost from the Deity is restored. They came from it and they return
to it. Rest is thus an eschatological goal, but it is not only that. Even before
liberation from the body it can be experienced now when the enlightened soul
spiritually detaches itself from the world, the flesh, and the demiurge, and all
their works. It is thus both a future destiny and a present experience. Gnostics
have heaven in their hearts. In modern terms, eschatology and psychology are
one. The Sabbath day means nothing good; the Rest (avna,pausij) is everything
to hope for.
Now we may turn back to the Great Church, represented by the great
early defender of the faith, Justin Martyr. Justin flourished in the middle of
the second century, at the same time as the great Gnostic teachers Valentinus
and Marcion. He knew about them, and even wrote a tract against them.55 But
he breathed the same air as they, and it is not surprising to find similarities as
well as differences.
Robinson, 476; cf. Baarda, 189-190.
Helderman, 85-231, lists and examines all the relevant passages of the Gospel of
Truth, as well as others (see also 282-330).
55
Justin, 1 Apol. 26. After attacking the Simonians and Marcion, specifically for
deploring the doctrine that the Creator God is inferior to another Great God, he
concludes: But I have a treatise against all the heresies that have existed already
composed, which, if you wish to read it, I will give you. He repeats his attack in chap.
58. The tract that he mentions has not survived, but it was apparently used by Irenaeus
in his massive Against Heresies, wherein great attention is given to the Valentinians (Haer.
4.6.2). In his Dial. 35, Justin specifically lists Marcionists, Valentinians, Basilidians, and
Saturnalians.
53
54
334
Justin deprecates external observances that are devoid of interior

experience (as did Pseudo-Barnabas56 and the Gnostics), such as he charges
the Jews with. Thus in his Dialogue with Trypho, a Jew, Justin writes:
For what is the use of baptism which cleanses the flesh and body alone?
Baptize the soul from wrath and from covetousness, from envy, and from
hatred; and lo! the body is pure. For this is the symbolic significance of the
unleavened bread, that you do not commit the old deeds of wicked leaven.
But you have understood all things in a carnal sense.57
This desire to spiritualize at the expense of what Justin regards as a

carnal sense carried over to his understanding of the Sabbath, about which
he says:
The new law requires you to keep perpetual sabbath, and you, because you
are idle for one day, suppose you are pious, not discerning why this has
been commanded you: and if you eat unleavened bread, you say the will of
God has been fulfilled. The Lord our God does not take pleasure in such
observances: if there is any perjured person or thief among you, let him
cease to be so; if any adulterer, let him repent; then he has kept the sweet
and true sabbaths of God.58
For Justin, then, true Sabbath-keeping is not ceasing from labor, but
ceasing from sin. The literal seventh-day Sabbath, like other fleshly observances
of Judaism, had been merely a temporary accommodation to the spiritual
weakness of the Jewish nation, which needed such things as reminders.59 Now
that the spiritual reality has come, the outward ritual has no value.
Justin differs from the Gnostics in that he does not give the word
Sabbath a negative connotation, representing the world or an inferior Jewish
god. Neither does he believe that a spiritual enlightenment about ones true
identity and destiny places a person beyond sinning or accountability to law.
But he does resemble them in completely spiritualizing the Sabbath, giving
it a meaning somewhat analogous to the Gnostic avna,pausij: true Sabbathkeeping is an interior experience of the soul, divorced from any external
observance such as being idle on a fixed day of the week; but it does have
Justin was preceded by Pseudo-Barnabas, for whom the Sabbath is a rest that can
be experienced only in the eschaton, as noted above. See Barn. 15:6-7. From Barn. 15:46, it appears that the Sabbath referred to is a millennial or eternal one. The word used
for rest there is not avna,pauw, but kata,pauw, which is the word used in Hebrews 4.
57
Justin, Dial. 14.
58
Ibid., 12:3. Justin also argues that the OT patriarchs, like nature itself, did not
sabbatize (chaps. 19, 23).
59
Ibid., 18:2, 3; 19:2; 21:2. Among the other outward rituals discarded by Justin are
the water ablutions, which he calls baptisms (e.g., Dial. 14). While he thus deprecates
these physical acts, it does not seem to occur to him that the same thing could be said
of the Christian rites of water baptism and the eucharist.
56
335
behavioral consequencesone no longer sins. One attains to the Rest not by

gnw/sij, but by repentance.
Justin does not look like a radical innovator. He is probably representative
of many in his generation who were seeking to establish Christian identity in
distinction from Judaism, on one side, and from Gnostic modes of thought,
on the other. In fleeing from one, they could run into the arms of the other.60
Looking back we can see now that both the Scilla and the Charybdis involved
divorcing external from internal, Sabbath day from Sabbath experience.
Having separated them, they discarded one or the other.
Many years ago F. Crawford Burkitt made a striking observation. In the
third century, Tertullian wrote a long refutation of the doctrines of Marcion.
Shortly afterward either Tertullian or someone closely associated with him
compiled a treatise against the Jews. The interesting thing is that about half
of the treatise against the Jews was copied out of Against Marcion, book
three. The important thing is that the same arguments that were thought
appropriate to use against the Jews were thought appropriate to use against
Marcion the anti-Jew. Surprising as it seems at first sight, the Church had to a
great extent the same controversy with both opponents.61
Perhaps we can draw an analogy to this in respect to the Sabbath.
Matthew would have had the same controversy with both Pharisees and
Gnostics: both separated the day from the experience and discarded one or
the other. But from his perspective, soul rest and sabbath-day rest must be
laminated together.
60
Irenaeus is a complex case. On one hand, he held a high view of the Decalogue
and upheld the Matthean ethos of Sabbath-keeping (Haer. 4.8.2-3; 4.12.1-5; 4.13.1).
On the other, he partly followed Justin in spiritualizing the Sabbath: The Sabbaths
taught that we should continue day by day in Gods service (Haer. 4.16.1-2), and
he may have even equated it (or the avna,pausij tou/ qeou/) with the Kingdom (Haer.
4.16.1), although it is unclear what the original Greek (which lies behind the Latin
translation in which form alone this part of his work comes down to us) may have
said (see n. in ANF 1:481).
61
F. Crawford Burkitt, The Gospel History and Its Transmission, 2d ed. (Edinburgh: T.
& T. Clark, 1907), 306-307.

THE CONTROVERSY OVER FASTING ON SATURDAY

BETWEEN CONSTANTINOPLE AND ROME
Radia Antic
Newbold College
Bracknell, Binfield, England
The question of fasting on Saturday was a significant point of theological

debate between the Eastern and Western churches during the first millennium
of Christian history.1 This issue is closely related to the fact that the Christian
church, during the first several centuries after Christ, celebrated both Saturday
and Sunday as weekly days of worship.
For example, a church historian of the fifth century, Socrates Scholasticus
of Constantinople, noted that For although almost all churches throughout
the world celebrate the sacred mysteries on the Sabbath of every week, yet the
Christians of Alexandria and at Rome, on account of some ancient tradition,
have ceased to do this.2 The Apostolic Constitutions, compiled in the fourth
century probably in Antioch, states similarly that Christians should keep the
Sabbath (Saturday) and the Lords day (Sunday) festivals because the former
is the memorial of the creation, and the latter of the resurrection.3 It thus
seems logical to assume, on the basis of these and other statements, that, with
the exception of Rome and Alexandria, throughout the [Christian] world
there were worship services on both Saturday and Sunday as late as the fifth
century,4 with the Western church appearing to emphasize the importance of
Sunday as the weekly day of worship. On the other hand, the Eastern church
seemed to be torn by its desire to remain in harmony with its understanding
of apostolic tradition and its need to keep good relations with Rome.
1
Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church, 3 vols. (Peabody: Hendrickson,
1996), 3:378-386.
2
Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 5.22, (NPNF 2 2:132).
3
Apostolic Constitutions 7.23, titled Constitutions of the Holy Apostles (ANF
7:469): But keep the Sabbath, and the Lords day festival; because the former is the
memorial of the creation, and the latter of the resurrection. Cf. ibid., 8.33 (ANF
7.495): Peter and Paul do make the following constitutions. Let the slaves work five
days; but on the Sabbath-day and the Lords day let them have leisure to go to church
for instruction in piety. We have said that the Sabbath is on account of the creation
and the Lords day of the resurrection.
4
Sozomen writes: The people of Constantinople, and almost everywhere,
assemble together on the Sabbath, as well as on the first day of the week, which
custom is never observed in Rome or at Alexandria. There are several cities and
villages in Egypt where, contrary to the usage established elsewhere, the people meet
together on Sabbath evenings, and, although they have dined previously, partake of
the mysteries (Ecclesiastical History 7.19 [NPNF 2 2:390]). Cf. Kenneth A. Strand, The
Sabbath and Sunday from the Second through the Fifth Centuries in The Sabbath in
Scripture and History, ed. Kenneth A. Strand (Washington, DC: Review and Herald,
1982), 323-332.
337
338
The Eastern-Western conflict over the day of worship is related to the

question of fasting on Sabbath. These conflicts are especially evident in three
historical events: the Fifth-Sixth Ecumenical Council held in Trullo in 691,
the ecclesiastical jurisdiction over the Bulgarian church, and the Great Schism
of 1054.
The purpose of this paper is to describe and critically assess the canons of
the Council in Trullo regarding the Saturday-fasting controversy, the encyclical
of Patriarch Photius connected to the status of the Bulgarian church, and
the documents associated with the Great Schism. This analysis attempts to
explain why the matter of fasting on Saturday played such a central role in
disagreements between the Eastern and Western churches.
The FifthSixth Ecumenical Council in Trullo
The Council in Trullo, called by Emperor Justinian II in 691, met in the
imperial banqueting hall (in trullum) at Constantinople.5 The purpose of this
council, also known as the Fifth-Sixth Council,6 was to complete the work of
the Fifth (553) and Sixth (681) Ecumenical Councils.7 In the absence of the
emperor, the council was presided over by Paul III, the ecumenical patriarch of
Constantinople, and attended by Patriarchs Petros III of Alexandria, Georgios
II of Antioch, Anastasios II of Jerusalem, as well as by 211 bishops.8
There are disagreements among scholars as to whether the Western
church was officially represented at this council. Historians and theologians
of the Western church claim that Rome was not represented. An evidence of
that claim is found in Pope Sergius IIIs rejection of certain canons of the
council, particularly those statements giving the patriarch of Constantinople
equal status with the Roman pope.9 However, historians of the Eastern church
point out that the pope of Rome was represented through the delegation of
bishops from Eastern Illyricum. In addition to these Western representatives,
there were four bishops from Crete: Basilios of Gortyna, Nikitas of Kydonia,
Sisinos of Chersonisos, and Theopemptos. Basilios of Gortyna signed the
canons of the synod in the following way: Basilius episcopus Gortinae,
metropolis Christum amantis Cretae insulae et . . . totius synodi sanctae
Romanae Ecclesiae (Basilios, bishop of Gortyna, metropolis of the Lord
loving island of Crete and . . . of the whole synod of the Holy Church of
Jerald C. Brauer, ed., The Westminster Dictionary of Church History (Philadelphia:
Westminster, 1971), s.v. Trullan Synod.
6
The Fifth-Sixth Council is known also in church history as Pentekte (Greek) and
Quinisextum (Latin).
7
The Fifth Ecumenical Council was convened in 553 in order to confirm the
anathema on Origen, Didymos the Blind, and Evagrios Pontikos for the Platonizing
tendencies. The Sixth Ecumenical Council was also held in the trullum of the imperial
palace in Constantinople from 680 to 681 (Isaias Simonopetrites, The Pastoral Sensitivity
of the Canons of the Council in Trullo [691-692], GOTR 40 [1995]: 45-46).
8
Ibid.
9
Brauer, 830.
5
The Controversy over Fasting on Saturday . . .
339
Rome).10 Nevertheless in spite of this evidence, the question of whether

Rome was officially represented at the Council of Trullo will probably remain
a point of debate between the Western and Eastern churches.
However, what is of interest for this work is that out of the 102 canons
issued by the Fifth-Sixth Council, the 29th, 52d, 55th, 56th, and 89th refer to
the issue of fasting in general, as well as to fasting on Saturday.11 Why was
so much space dedicated to the problem of fasting, particularly to fasting on
Saturday? What is the historical background of this controversy?
From apostolic times Christians have practiced fasting.12 Most early
Christians of Jewish background apparently followed the Jewish custom of
fasting and prayer on Mondays and Thursdays. However, contrary to that
Jewish practice, at least some in the Christian church near the end of the first
century adopted Wednesdays and Fridays as the days of fasting.13 Furthermore,
by the end of the fifth century, the Latin church replaced Wednesday with
Saturday as a fasting day,14 probably in opposition to the Jews and to Christians
of Jewish background or leanings who were reluctant to change their practice
of fasting on certain days.15 Nevertheless, in the Eastern churches it was a
general rule that there should be no fasting on Saturday and, specifically, that
Saturday as well as Sunday should be exempt from fasting in the period before
Easter.16 The Council in Trullo strongly reacted against these changes made
by Rome, claiming that by introducing Saturday as the day of fasting, the
Roman church acted against the apostolic tradition clearly expressed in the
Apostolic Constitutions and that should be followed by all Christians.17 What
follows is a short review of the key points mentioned in canons 29, 52, 55,
56, and 89 of the Council in Trullo concerning the controversy of fasting in
general and particularly on Saturday.
Canon 29
A canon of the Synod of Carthage says that the holy mysteries of the altar
are not to be performed but by men who are fasting, except on one day in
the year on which the Supper of the Lord is celebrated. At that time, on
10
Ioan Dura, The Canons of the Sixth Ecumenical Synod concerning Fasting
and Their Application to the Present Needs of the Orthodox Faithful, GOTR 40
(1995): 153-154.
11
See Archimandrite Akakios, Fasting in the Orthodox Church (Etna, CA: [np], 1990),
107.
12
See Acts 13:2; 14:23.
13
Tia M. Kolbaba, The Byzantine Lists: Errors of the Latins (Urbana: University of
Illinois Press, 1995), 34-35. See also Brauer, s.v. Fast Days.
14
Ibid.
15
Augustus Neander, General History of the Christian Religion and Church (Edinburgh:
T. & T. Clark, 1847-1855), 3:402.
16
Ibid, 402.
17
Kolbaba, 34-35.
340

account perhaps of certain occasions in those places useful to the Church,
even the holy Fathers themselves made use of this dispensation. But since
nothing leads us to abandon exact observance, we decree that the Apostolic
and Patristic tradition shall be followed; and define that it is not right to
break the fast on the fifth feria of the last week of Lent, and thus to do
dishonour to the whole of Lent.18
The pronouncement issued by the Synod in Carthage declared that

the Holy Eucharist can be officiated by nonfasting priests once a year on
Holy Thursdays. The reasoning behind this pronouncement was that Jesus
celebrated the Pascha of the law with his disciples before offering his own
spiritual Pascha, and thus the apostles had not fasted when they had eaten
the latter, since they had already taken Pascha of the law.19
However, the fathers of the Council in Trullo amended this
pronouncement made by the Synod of Carthage, declaring that the clergy
should fast whenever they celebrate the holy liturgy, and that the Lenten fast,
as well as that of Wednesday and Friday, is obligatory. Thus the priests should
follow the tradition of the apostles and the fathers, and the fast should not
be broken upon the fifth feria [Maundy Thursday] of the last week of Lent,
and so the whole Lent be dishonoured.20 Therefore, only those priests who
are fasting can perform the liturgy.
It seems obvious that this assertion was affirmed in opposition to what
was the practice in the Western part of Christianity; namely, the Church of
Rome was allowing its priests to carry out the holy liturgy on the Thursday of
Lent without fasting.21
Canon 52
On all days of the holy fast of Lent, except on the Sabbath, the Lords day
and the holy day of the Annunciation, the Liturgy of the Presanctified is
to be said.22
During Lent the holy liturgy was offered only on Saturdays and Sundays
when fasting was not permitted. The Synod of Laodicea in canon 49 thus
established for the duration of Lent the practice of keeping a part of the
gifts sanctified in the liturgy of Saturdays and Sundays on the altar so that the
believers could receive Holy Communion on week days.23 The bread once
offered and consecrated is not to be consecrated anew on another day but a
new offering is made of what was before consecrated and presanctified.24 In
The Canons of the Council in Trullo, NPNF 2 14:378. Cf. N. Milas, Pravila
Pravoslavne Crkve s Tumacenjima (Novi Sad, 1895-1896), 136.
19
The Canons of the Council in Trullo, NPNF 2 14:378. Cf. Dura, 150.
20
The Canons of the Council in Trullo, NPNF 2 14:378.
21
See Dura, 151.
22
23
Ibid. See also Dura, 151.
24
NPNF 2 14:389, notes on Canon 52 by van Espen.
18
341
order not to interrupt the fasting on Wednesdays and Fridays, the presanctified
gifts were received in the evening after Vespers, when only the liturgy of the
presanctified gifts was celebrated and not the complete liturgy.
Thus on Saturdays and Sundays, when fasting was not permitted even
during Lent, the complete liturgy was celebrated. Consequently, the content
of canon 52 of the Council in Trullo preserved this custom of the liturgy of
the presanctified gifts decreed by the Synod of Laodicea.
Although one can find a large number of possible explanations to
understand this clear distinction between Saturday, Sunday, and other days
of the week, canon 52 seems to indicate that in the early centuries of the
Christian church there was a special place in the worship schedule not only for
Sunday, but also for Saturday. The fact that the period of Lent was considered
to be one of the most sacred and significant of all festivals in the churchs
yearly calendar raises the following questions: Why was the liturgy during Lent
offered on both Saturdays and Sundays? What was the reason for forbidding
fasting on Saturdays and Sundays?
Canon 55
Since we understand that in the city of the Romans, in the holy fast of Lent
they fast on the Saturdays, contrary to the ecclesiastical observance which
is traditional, it seemed good to the holy synod that also in the Church of
the Romans the canon shall immovably stand fast which says: If any cleric
shall be found to fast on a Sunday or Saturday (except on one occasion only)
he is to be deposed; and if he is a layman he shall be cut off.25
In this canon, the fathers of the Council in Trullo reacted against the
noncanonical practice of fasting by the church in Rome on Saturdays and
Sundays during Lent. At the end of the Apostolic Constitutions, Ecclesiastical
Canon no. 64 states: If any one of the clergy be found to fast on the Lords
day, or on the Sabbath-day, excepting one only, let him be deprived; but if he
be one of the laity, let him be suspended.26 On the basis of this statement,
the Eastern church adopted, as a general rule, that there should be no fasting
Constitutions of the Holy Apostles, ANF 7:504. The Apostolic Constitutions
7.23 also states on which days of the week Christians are to fast and not to fast and
for what reasons: But let not your fast be with the hypocrites; for they fast on the
second and fifth days of the week. But do you either fast the entire five days, or on
the fourth day of the week, and on the day of the Preparation, because on the fourth
day the condemnation went out against the Lord, Judas then promising to betray Him
for money; and you must fast on the day of the Preparation, because on that day the
Lord suffered the death of the cross under Pontius Pilate. But keep the Sabbath, and
the Lords day festival; because the former is the memorial of the creation, and the
latter of the resurrection. But there is one only Sabbath to be observed by you in the
whole year, which is that of our Lords burial, on which men ought to keep a fast, but
not a festival. For inasmuch as the Creator was then under the earth, the sorrow for
him is more forcible than the joy for the creation; for the Creator is more honourable
by nature and dignity than His own creatures (ANF 7:469).
25
26
342
on Sabbath, and that Sabbath and Sunday should be excluded from the period
of fasting before Lent. The one exception in the whole liturgical year was the
Sabbath, which is that of the Lords burial, for inasmuch as the Creator
was then under the earth, the sorrow for him is more forcible than the joy of
creation.27
Contrary to the position of the Eastern church and the Apostolic
Constitutions, the Western church, in opposition to Jews and Judaists (Christians
of Jewish background or leanings), adopted the practice of observing
Saturday as a day of fasting. However, Augustine, Ambrose of Milan, and
Jerome claimed that this matter had not been decided by divine authority
and that there was no particular connection with the essence of faith and
of sanctification. They believed that in such matters each individual should
follow the custom of his own church, or of the country in which he resided,
and strive that the bond of charity might not be broken by differences in
such unimportant matters.28 Augustine writes that God did not lay down
a rule concerning fasting or eating on the seventh-day of the week, either at
the time of His hallowing that day because in it He rested from His works,
or afterwards when He gave precepts to the Hebrew nation concerning
the observance of that day.29 Thus he emphasizes that neither the Holy
Scriptures nor the universal tradition of the church says anything decisive on
this point and that only weak minds insist on this practice as being the only
right one.30
In spite of Augustines position, however, which seems to express a great
dose of religious liberty in the domain of unessential matters, the historical
Ibid. The period of fasting before Easter was intended to give an opportunity
to Christians to engage in the process of self-examination, repentance, abstinence
from the pleasures of the world, the diligent reading of Gods word in order to be able
to enter into the process of commemoration of the new creation in humanity which
came from the resurrection and glorification of Christ (see Neander, 3:408).
28
Neander, 3:402.
29
Augustine, Epistle 36, to Casulanus, in NPNF 1 1:265-270.
30
Augustine writes: As to the question on which you wish my opinion, whether
it is lawful to fast on the seventh day of the week, I answer, that if it were wholly
unlawful, neither Moses nor Elijah, nor our Lord himself, would have fasted for forty
successive days. But by the same argument it is proved that even on the Lords day
fasting is not unlawful. And yet, if any one were to think that the Lords day should be
appointed a day of fasting, in the same way as the seventh day is observed by some,
such a man would be regarded, and not unjustly, as bringing a great cause of offence
into the Church. For in those things concerning which the divine Scriptures have laid
down no definitive rule, the custom of the people of God, or the practices instituted by
their fathers, are to be held as the law of the Church. If we choose to fall into a debate
about these things, and to denounce one party merely because their custom differs
from that of others, the consequence must be an endless contention, in which the
utmost care is necessary lest the storm of conflict overcast with clouds the calmness
of brotherly love, while the strength is spent in mere controversy which cannot adduce
on either side any decisive testimonies of truth (ibid.). See also Neander, 3:402.
27
343
evidence shows something different; namely, that the Roman church . . . from
a very early period required uniformity in things unessential.31 The Roman
church unmistakably claimed that this custom [of fasting on Sabbath] came
down from Peter, the first of the apostles, and hence ought to be universally
observed.32
Further, at the same time that Augustine voiced his opinion about fasting,
the Roman bishop Innocent issued a declaration to the Spanish bishop
Decentius, that the Sabbath, like Friday, must be observed as a fast day.33
In opposition to the entire ecclesiastical tradition expressed in the Apostolic
Contitutions that the Sabbath is the commemoration of the joy of creation,
Innocent argued that the Sabbath necessarily belongs to the period of sorrow
because after Jesus crucifixion the apostles were plunged into grief and hid
themselves due to fear, and that the Sabbath precedes Sunday, the joyful day
of resurrection.34
The controversy over fasting on Sabbath unmistakably shows that the
displacement of Saturday by Sunday as the day of weekly Christian worship
and rest was a long and slow process. . . . Evidence from the fifth century
indicates that also at that time both Sabbath and Sunday were observed
generally throughout the Christian world, except in Rome and Alexandria.35
Milas writes:
Christians celebrated Sunday, the day on which Christ was resurrected from
death and through this accomplished his work of redemption. This day
for Christians was a day of joy and brotherly meetings in Christ as well as
the day of repentance for committed sins. Almost the same meaning was
attributed to the Sabbath. Christians considered the Sabbath too as a day of
joy and remembrance of the creation of the world and the rest of God.36
On Sabbath in the Eastern church, assemblies were held, sermons

preached, and communion celebrated.37 Two canons issued by the Synod
of Laodicea in Phrygia in 360 mentioned the Sabbath and some of the
activities that the Christians should practice on Sabbath. Canon 16 states that
On Saturday, the Gospels and other portions of the Scripture shall be read
aloud.38 However, in apparently sharp contradiction, canon 29 of the same
Synod proposes that Christians shall not judaise and be idle on Saturday,
but shall work on that day; but the Lords day they shall especially honour, in
every way possible as Christians. If however, they are found judaising, they
Neander, 3:403.
Ibid.
33
Sabbato jejunandum esse ratio evidentissima demonstrate (ibid.).
34
Ibid.
35
Strand, 330. See also, Milas, 136.
36
Milas, 136.
37
Neander, 401.
38
The Canons of the Synod of Laodicea, NPNF 2 14:133.
31
32
344
shall be shut out from Christ.39 While this is a statement against the practice
of judaizing, however, Western Christianity was not yet ready to acknowledge
fully that the real origin of the change of the day of fasting was in opposition
to the Jewish communities, asserting instead that Peter established a fast on
the Sabbath in preparation for the dispute with Simon Magus.
What is clear, however, is that canon 29 of the Synod of Laodicia
demonstrates that, first, there were Christians resting on the Sabbath day in
the second part of the fourth century, and who were doing so in recognition
of the Creators own rest on the Sabbath at the end of Creation week. Second,
August Neander rightly states that In many districts, a punctual Jewish
observance of the Sabbath must doubtless have become common: hence the
council of Laodicea considered it necessary to order, that Christians should
not celebrate this day after the Jewish manner, nor consider themselves bound
to abstain from labour.40 Zeger-Bernard van Espen also writes that among
the Greeks the Sabbath was kept exactly as the Lords day except so far as the
cessation of work was concerned.41
Therefore, the controversy over the fasting on Sabbath, which was the
point of debate at the Council in Trullo, is only the by-product of the deep
conviction of the Christian church in the East during the first centuries of
the Christian era that the Sabbath is the day of rest established by God at the
time of the creation of the world. In addition to the evidence of canon 29,
three key statements from the Apostolic Constitutions reinforce the statements
of canon 55 concerning the Sabbath:
1. In the Apostolic Constitutions 2.59, the Sabbath is declared along with
Sunday to be the day of church assemblies:
But assemble yourselves together every day, morning and evening, singing
psalms and praying in the Lords house: in the morning saying the sixtysecond Psalm, and in the evening the hundred and fortieth, but principally
on the Sabbath-day. And of the day of our Lords resurrection, which is
the Lords day, meet more diligently, sending praise to God that made the
universe by Jesus, and sent him to us, and condescended to let him suffer,
and raised Him from the dead. Otherwise what apology will he make to
God who does not assemble on that day to hear the saving word concerning
resurrection?42
2. The Apostolic Constitutions states that on the Sabbath and on Sunday

the slaves should rest from their labors and attend church with the rest of the
Christians to listen to preaching from the Holy Scriptures:
Let the slaves work five days; but on the Sabbath day and the Lords day
let them have leisure to go to church for instruction in piety. We have
Ibid., 14:148.
Neander, 401.
41
The Canons of the Synod of Laodicea, NPNF 2 14:133, notes by van Espen.
42
Constitutions of the Holy Apostles, ANF 7:422-423.
39
40
345
said that the Sabbath is on account of the creation, and the Lords day of
resurrection.43
3. The Apostolic Constitutions declares that there should be no fasting on

Sabbath, except for the Sabbath during which Jesus lay resting in the tomb,
given that the Sabbath reminds one of the joy and delight of the creation of
the world. If someone refuses to follow this decree, he should be excluded
from the fellowship of the church.44
Canon 56
We have likewise learned that in the regions of Armenia and in other places
certain people eat eggs and cheese on the Sabbaths and Lords days of the
holy Lent. It seems good therefore that the whole Church of God which
is in all the world should follow one rule and keep the fast perfectly, and as
they abstain from everything which is killed, so also should they from eggs
and cheese, which are the fruit and produce of those animals from which
we abstain. But if any shall not observe this law, if they be clerics, let them
be deposed; but if laymen, let them be cut off.45
This canon demonstrates that the Christians in the East, although they
did not fast on the Sabbath and on the Sundays of Lent, did, however,
abstain from everything which is killed . . . from eggs and cheese, which
are the fruit and produce of those animals, 46 from which they refrained
during the fasting days. In writing this stipulation, the fathers of the Council
in Trullo emphasized the need to remain faithful to canon 69 of the Apostolic
Constitutions, which states:
If any bishop, or presbyter, or deacon, or reader, or singer, does not fast
the fast of forty days, or the fourth day of the week, and the day of the
Preparation, let him be deprived, except he be hindered by weakness of
body. But if he be one of the laity, let him be suspended.47
It is necessary, according to canon 56, that the whole universal church

of God fast in the manner already established as it is expressed in the
Apostolic Constitutions. This warning is especially directed toward the church of
Armenia and in other places, probably having in mind primarily the church
in Rome.
In canon 56, one can easily detect the urgency of the fathers of the
Council in Trullo to remain faithful to the teachings of the apostles,48 to the
earlier, original traditions, and to what ultimately leads to the teachings of
the early church and Christ himself. As with the other canons, this canon
Ibid., 7:495.
Ibid., 7:504.
45
46
Ibid.
47
Constitutions of the Holy Apostles, ANF 7:504.
48
They believed that the teaching of the apostles was expressed in the Apostolic
Constitutions.
43
44
346
also expresses the strong intent of the Council in Trullo to have some special
regulations for Sabbath and Sunday.
Canon 89
The faithful spending the days of the Salutatory Passion in fasting, praying
and compunction of heart, ought to fast until the midnight of the Great
Sabbath: since the divine Evangelists, Matthew and Luke, have shewn us
how late at night it was [that the resurrection took place], the one by using
the words ovye. sabba,ton, and the other by the words o;rqrou baqe,oj.49
As we have stated earlier, there was only one Sabbath during the year
when, according to the Council in Trullo, the faithful should fast: the Great
Sabbath of Lent. The Apostolic Constitutions 7.23 describe this as the Sabbath
of our Lords burial, on which men ought to keep a fast, but not a festival.
For inasmuch as the Creator was then under the earth, the sorrow for him
is more forcible than the joy for the creation.50 Canon 89 stipulates that the
fast on the Great Sabbath should end about the middle of the Holy Saturday
night,51 since the divine Evangelists, Matthew and Luke, have shewn us
how late at night the resurrection took place. At the hour of the Lords
resurrection, after the days of fasting, contrition, and humbling of soul, the
faithful should cease fasting and begin to rejoice.
Regardless of ones position regarding the theology of fasting, one can
appreciate the preoccupation of the fathers of the Council in Trullo to remain
in harmony with the teachings of the apostolic tradition and to maintain an
ecclesiastical unity in the observance of fasting. Moreover, it is clear that for
them the Sabbath day, as well as Sunday, had to be set apart not just as a
special day of nonfasting, but also as a day of worship on which the faithful
should experience the joy of the creation and the resurrection of Jesus.
The Controversy Concerning the Church in Bulgaria
Long before the controversy concerning who would have the ecclesiastical
jurisdiction over the church in Bulgaria in the ninth century, there were
numerous quarrels between Eastern and Western Christianity.52 In 856,
Theodora, empress of the Byzantine Empire,53 retired from the court; and
her underage son, Michael III, was appointed to succeed her under the
The Canons of the Council in Trullo, NPNF 2 14:403, brackets original.
50
Apostolic Constitutions, ANF 7:469.
51
Dura, 159.
52
See Jevsevije Popovic, Opca Crkvena Istorija (Sremski Karlovci: Srpska Manastirska
Stamparija, 1912), 774-796. Frank Gavin, Breach Between East and West, in An
Outline of Christianity: The Story of Our Civilization, 5 vols., ed. A. S. Peake and R. G.
Parsons (London: Waverly, 1926), 2:189.
53
In 330, Constantine I established a second Roman capital at Byzantium
(present-day Istanbul). When Rome fell in 476, the Byzantine Empire was founded on
the remains of the once great Roman Empire with Constantinople as its capital.
49
347
protection of her brother, Bardas. However, Bardas and young Michael

III allowed corruption and immorality to rule the court.54 In response, the
patriarch of Constantinople, Ignatius, refused communion to the young king,
an act which infuriated Bardas and Michael. They removed Ignatius from his
position and exiled him. Ignatius was succeeded by Photius, a layman, who
was considered to be the most learned scholar in the world . . . , the highly
gifted man, distinguished as a philosopher in a generation, and displaying, as
a theologian, qualities which bespeak genius.55
When news of the succession reached Pope Nicholas I (858-867), he
sent two legates to investigate. When the legates arrived in Constantinople,
they accepted gifts from Bardass supporters, and at the trial of Ignatius they
took the side of Bardas. Thus Ignatiuss removal was confirmed.56
However, in 862, Nicholas I reexamined the controversy and came to the
conclusion that Ignatius was wrongly deposed. Because of this, he threatened
Photius with excommunication, thereby further straining the relationship
between Rome and Constantinople over the question of ecclesiastical
jurisdiction of the church in Bulgaria.
The Bulgarians had been Christianized by missionaries from
Constantinople and had received priests from the Eastern church. The
Bulgarian king Bogoris (or Boris) had been baptized by Greek priests. However,
Bogoris, upon further thought, decided that an ecclesiastical dependence on
Constantinople might put the political independence of Bulgaria in danger.
Therefore, he wrote to Rome, asking what has come to be called the one
hundred and five religious questions and requesting the pope to send bishops
to put the church in Bulgaria in order.57 Nichols I honored Bogoriss request,
sending bishops who introduced the Latin form of worship and declared the
church in Bulgaria to be the daughter of Rome. As a result, the Greek priests
were humiliated and sent into exile to Constantinople. Distrust and aversion
were transformed into open hostility.58
In 867, the patriarch of Constantinople, Photius, wrote an encyclical to
other patriarchs of the Eastern churches, accusing the Church of Rome of
banditry and robbery of the church in Bulgaria, as well as accusing them of
other abuses. The five abuses of Rome mentioned in this encyclical are:
1. observing Saturday as a fast day;
2. giving permission to the people to eat flesh food and animal products
(cheese, milk, eggs) during the first week of Easter;
3. despising the priests from the East who live in a lawful marriage
while their (Western) priests live in adultery and concubinage;
See Popovic, 778.
Gavin, 2:191.
56
Ibid.
57
Popovic, 780.
58
Ibid., 781; Gavin, 2:192. See also Jaroslav Pelikan, The Spirit of Eastern Christendom
(600-1700) (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1974), 158.
54
55
348
4. declining to give consent to the priests and bishops to conduct the

sacrament of confirmation;
5. teaching that the Holy Spirit proceeds not only from the Father, but
adding the phrase and the son (Filioque). 59
This encyclical, which is sometimes called the Magna Carta of
Eastern Orthodoxy, expresses a forceful declaration of Constantinoples
independence from Rome and finishes with the statement of dethronement
and excommunication of Pope Nicholas I. At least during this short period
of time, it seemed that Photius won in his criticism of Rome because of the
logic of his argument and the support he had from the clergy and people.60
It is significant for the Saturday/Sunday debate that at this critical point
in the history of the relationship between the Eastern and Western parts of
Christianity, the first point of disagreement mentioned in this encyclical is
fasting on Sabbath. It is also interesting to notice that in this document Sunday
is not mentioned as the nonfasting day. Of course, there were other issues
behind this encyclical, such as the power struggle between the two segments
of Christianity and aspirations to control certain territories; nevertheless, the
problem of fasting on Sabbath not only remained on the agenda, but was still
the item on the agenda of disagreements in the ninth century.
This first excommunication, in which Pope Nicholas I was also dethroned
in 867, would find its echo from the Latin side in the eleventh century. Was
fasting on Sabbath still an issue in the later controversy between the two
Christian churches?
The Fasting on Sabbath in the Great Schism of 1054
In 1042, Constantine Monomachos was inaugurated as the new king of the
Byzantine Empire. One year later Michael Cerularius become patriarch of the
Eastern church. These two men would become the central protagonists in
defending the interests of the Eastern Orthodox Church in the Great Schism
of 1054. Michael Cerularius was the real ruler not only of the church but also
of the state, since soon after Constantine Monomachos became emperor, he
suffered from paralysis and became a mere figurehead.61
In Rome, Pope Leo IX believed that he inherited absolute power over
all Christian people and institutions from Peter himself.62 It seems that the
Great Schism began with a letter written by Metropolitan Archbishop Leo
of Achrida and Michael Cerularius to Bishop John of the church in Trani in
southern Italy. However, the letter was intended not only for Bishop John, but
also through him to all the chief priests, and the priests of the Franks, and
Ibid.
See Gavin 2:193.
61
Ibid. See also C. T. Marshall, Schism, The Great, in Evangelical Dictionary of
Theology (1987), 980.
62
Marshall, 981.
59
60
349
the monks, and the peoples, and to the most reverend pope himself.63 This
open letter singles out two distinctive abuses of the Western church: it made
a special attack on the practice of the Roman church of making the Sabbath
a fast day, and the use of unleavened bread for the eucharist. It is interesting
to notice that what was apparently the most controversial issue, that of the
Filioque, is not mentioned in this letter.
Around the same time another learned theologian from the East, Nicetas
Stethatos, wrote a booklet Libellus Contra Latinos, in which he accused the
Roman church of breaking the rules of the Constitutions of the Holy Apostles
against fasting on the Sabbath, as well as of being disobedient to the
Scriptures and the canons of other church councils, which had forbidden this
practice.64
To these two accusing documents from the East came two replies from
the Western side. Pope Leo IX wrote an apologia for the Roman church to
Michael Cerularius and Leo of Achrida, claiming that he was the successor
of the apostle Peter, that he was invested with supreme authority over the
universal church, and that his word was law for the faithful to obey.65 A
second defence supporting Pope Leo IX came from Cardinal Humbert, who
wrote his Responsio to Nicetas Stethatos.66
Moreover, Pope Leo IX decided early in 1054 to send a group of theologians
to Constantinople to discuss further the contended issues. This group consisted
of three papal legates: Cardinal Humbert; Frederic, deacon and chancellor of
the Church of Rome; and Peter, archbishop of Amalfi. Upon their arrival the
papal legates discussed the disputed issues with the patriarch, the emperor, and
publicly with Nicetas Stethatos in the presence of the emperor, his court, and
other persons of high rank in affairs of state and church.67 Patriarch Michael
Cerularius was offended by the letter brought to him by the legates and
responded to the accusations concerning the Sabbath observance by saying:
For we are commanded also to honour the Sabbath equally with [Sunday] the
Lords [day], and to keep [it] and not to work on it.68
After these unsuccessful discussions and other attempts to bring the
Eastern church into submission to the Church of Rome, there occurred
one of the most dramatic and most devastating events in the history of
Christianity. On July 16, 1054, the Sabbath day, when preparations had been
made for the liturgy on that day, the three papal legates entered the Church of
St. Sophia and laid the bull of excommunication on the altar and walked away,
Michael Cerularius and Leo of Achrida, Epistle to John of Trani, in Patrologia
graecea, ed. J.-P. Migne, 162 vols. (Paris, 1857-1886), 120:835-845. See also R. L. Odom,
The Sabbath in the Great Schism of 1054, AUSS 1 (1963): 74-80.
64
Nicetas Stethatos, Libellus Contra Latinos, (PG 120:1011-1022).
65
Leo IX, Epistle 100, to Michael Cerularius and Leo of Achrida, in Patrologia
latina, ed. J.-P. Migne, 217 vols. (Paris, 1844-1864), 143:745-768. See also Odom, 75.
66
Humbert, Responsio, (PG 120:1021-1038).
67
Humbert, Brevis et Succincta Commemoratio, (PL 143:1001, 1002).
68
Cerularius, Letter I, (PG 120:777, 7780).
63
350
toward Rome, shaking the dust from their feet. From that day on, the fracture
between Constantinople and Rome has never been healed and the Church of
Rome has considered Eastern Orthodox Christendom as excommunicated
and heretical.
In his work, Adversus Calumnis Graecorum (Against the Calumnies of the
Greeks), Cardinal Humbert wrote:
Therefore, in such observance of the Sabbath, where and in what way
do we [Latins] have anything in common with the Jews? For they are idle
and keep a holiday on the Sabbath, neither ploughing nor reaping, and by
reason of custom do not work, but they hold a festivity and a dinner, and
their menservants, maidservants, cattle, and beasts of burden rest. But we
[Latins] observe none of these things, but we do every (sort of ) work, as
(we do) on the preceding five days, and we fast as we (are wont to) fast on
the sixth day [Friday] next to it.
However, you [Greeks], if you do not judaize, tell (us) why do you have
something in common with the Jews with the similar observance of the
Sabbath? They certainly observe the Sabbath, and you observe (it); they
dine, and always break the fast, on the Sabbath. In their forty day period
they break the fast every Sabbath except one, and you [Greeks] in your forty
day period break the fast every Sabbath except one. They [the Jews] have
a twofold reason for observing the Sabbath, obviously by reason of the
precept of Moses, and because the disciples were saddened and heavy (of
heart) on this (Sabbath) day on account of the death of the Lord, whom
they did not believe to be about to be resurrected. Wherefore, because you
observe Sabbath with the Jews and with us Sunday, Lords day, you appear
by such observance to imitate the sect of the Nazarenes, who in this manner
accept the Christianity that they might not give up Judaism.
But the Latin church, in compassionate regard for the Lord in (His) suffering
and death, rejoice in (His) resurrection on the [Sunday] Lords day, when
concern much troubled the Jews as they were seeking to corrupt the guards
of the sepulchre by means of money. Wherefore, we [Latins], holding unto
the present time the apostolic tradition concerning the Sabbath, and desiring
to hold (it) unto the end, are careful to subscribe to that which our ancient
and venerable fathers declared and confirmed, among whom the most
blessed Pope Sylvester, the spiritual father of the Emperor Constantine the
Great, said, among other things:
If every [Sunday] Lords day on account of the [Lords] resurrection is to
be kept in the joy of Christians, then every Sabbath day [on account] of
the burial is to be estimated in execration of the Jews. For all the disciples
of the Lord had a lamentation on the Sabbath, bewailing the buried Lord,
and gladness [prevailed] for the exulting Jews. But for the fasting apostles
sadness reigned. Let us [Christians], therefore, be sad with the saddened
on account of the burial of the Lord, if we would rejoice with them on
account of the resurrection of the Lord. For it is not proper that we should
observe on account of Jewish custom, the subversions of the foods and
ceremonies of the Jews.
351
These and similar things having been said by St. Sylvester, this tradition of
the apostolic see did not please some of the Easterners, but they choose
rather to observe the Sabbath with the Jews.69
Cardinal Humbert argued that the Christians from the East celebrate
the Sabbath in a similar way as do the Jews (why you have something in
common with the Jews in a similar observance of the Sabbath?; They
certainly observe the Sabbath, and you observe [it]). He also states that
the Jews and by analogy the Christians from the East are idle and keep a
holiday on the Sabbath, neither ploughing nor reaping, and by the reason
of custom do not work. Further, he explains the theological reasons why
the Jews and the Christians from the East observe the Sabbath: observing
the precept of Moses, most likely meaning the revelation given to humanity
through the prophet Moses in the Pentateuch and more specifically the Ten
Commandments, and (2) the fasting of the Orthodox Church on only one
Sabbath during the yearthe day when Christ was in the tomb and the
disciples were saddened and heavy (of heart) . . . on account of the death of
the Lord. Cardinal Humbert concludes that since the Christians from the
East observe the Sabbath with the Jews and the Lords Day (Sunday) with
the Latin church, they must be designated as a sect.
At least equally important, if not more so, is the response given by Patriarch
Michael Cerularius, in which he states that Christians are commanded also to
honour the Sabbath equally with the [Sunday] the Lords [day], and to keep [it]
and not to work on it. Consequently, Cerularius does not deny the accusations
made by Humbert, but argues that the Christians are commanded, probably
meaning by biblical revelation and the apostolic tradition, to honour, worship,
and not work on the Sabbath, even as on Sunday.
Summary and Conclusions
The dispute between Rome and Constantinople on the fasting on Sabbath was
one of the most controversial theological issues between the two segments of
Christianity, lasting for more than one thousand years. Although sometimes
this theological quarrel is blurred with cultural and nonbiblical elements, one
cannot but appreciate the resolve of the fathers of the Council of Trullo,
Patriarch Photius, and Patriarch Cerularius to remain faithful to the tradition
of the apostles and church fathers.
Five canons of the Synod in Trullo emphasize, in one way or another
(four directly), the necessity for the Christian church to remain faithful to the
truth about not fasting on Sabbath as expressed in the Apostolic Constitutions.
The Sabbath, along with Sunday, was a day when Christians should assemble,
sing psalms, and pray in the house of the Lord. On Sabbath, the slaves should
rest from their labors, attend church, and listen to the preaching from the
Holy Scriptures with the rest of the Christians. Finally, there should be no
Humbert, Adversus Calumnias Graecorum, (PL 143:936, 937); cited from

Odom, 77-79.
69
352
fasting on Sabbath (or Sunday), because the Sabbath reminds us of the joy
and delight of the creation of the world.
In the dispute between the East and the West on the subject of the
ecclesiastical jurisdiction over the Church in Bulgaria, Patriarch Photius in his
encyclical against Rome mentioned, in the first place, the fasting on Sabbath,
that is, the decision of the Roman church to reject and disregard the Apostolic
Constitutions and to pronounce the Sabbath a day of fasting. It means that the
struggle to understand the mystery of the Sabbath is still there in the ninth
century.
Finally, in the eleventh century, after the Great Schism in 1054, Patriarch
Cerularius made a tremendous statement that Christians are commanded to
honour the Sabbath . . . to keep [it] and not to work on it.70 Unfortunately,
the Eastern Orthodox Church did not follow the words of Patriarch Michael
Cerularius. In the centuries to follow, little by little, Eastern Orthodoxy
distanced itself in its understanding of the Sabbath from the Apostolic
Constitutions, from the fathers assembled at the Synod of Trullo, and from
Patriarchs Photius and Cerularius, and came ever closer to the Church of
Romes understanding of the Sabbath.
Cerularius (PG 120:777, 778).
70
DISSERTATION ABSTRACTS
A MISSIOLOGICAL STUDY OF THE PHENOMENON
OF DUAL ALLEGIANCE IN THE SEVENTH-DAY
ADVENTIST CHURCH AMONG THE YORUBA
PEOPLE OF NIGERIA
Name of researcher:
Paul Adekunle Dosunmu
Name of adviser:
Bruce L. Bauer, D.Miss.
Date completed:
January 2011
Problem
Many Africans and members of other traditional societies of the world who
still hold to a supernatural and spiritualistic worldview visit diviners, shamans,
spiritualistic herbalists, and the traditional medicine men and women who
use, for example, enchantments, divination, charms, and invocation of
the spirit world. They engage in such practices for various reasons, which
include the diagnosis and treatment of various ailments, both physical and
psychological, which plague their clients; exhibit a quest to know the future
through divination; and are familiar with the preparation of different kinds
of charms and medicines. Christians, including some Yoruba Adventists, also
engaged in such wisdom and divination in the missionary expeditions among
the Egba, a subtribe in the nineteenth century.
Conclusions and Recommendations
Dual allegiance is a significant issue in the Seventh-day Adventist Church that
needs a concerted effort to both detect and eliminate it from the practices of
the believers. Critical contextualization is a process that may help to address
the problem. A major emphasis is needed on the power of the gospel.
Thus pastors and lay leaders of the church need to be trained in critical
contextualization. The creation of a study center for African Traditional
Religions and Worldviews will help the denomination to better understand
how to contextualize mission to Africans and other people groups with
similar worldviews.
353
354
THE SABBATH IN THE PENTATEUCH: AN

EXEGETICAL AND THEOLOGICAL STUDY
Name of researcher:
Mathilde Frey
Name of adviser:
Roy E. Gane, Ph.D.
Date completed:
March 2011
Many studies have explored the seventh-day Sabbath in the Pentateuch from
historical-critical, theological, and historical perspectives. However, systematic
contextual exegesis and a close reading of the pentateuchal Sabbath texts
have been neglected. This dissertation investigates literary features of these
passages in their respective contexts and develops an integrated Sabbath
theology from the viewpoint of the Pentateuch as a whole.
In chapter 1, an overview of literature on the biblical Sabbath introduces
the topic and describes the methodology of the study. Chapters 2-5 explore
specific contextual, stylistic, and linguistic elements of the pentateuchal
Sabbath pericopes that contribute to the expression of their theological
concepts. Chapter 2 analyzes the creation Sabbath (Gen 2:1-3). Chapter 3
investigates other narrative passages involving the Sabbath (Exod 16:1-36
and Num 15:32-36). Chapter 4 examines Sabbath laws (Exod 20:8-11; 23:12;
34:21; Deut 5:12-15). Chapter 5 focuses on the Sabbath in the context of the
sanctuary (Exod 31:12-17; 35:2-3; Lev 23:3; 24:5-9; Num 28:9-10). In chapter
6, a summary of the various literary features of the Sabbath texts and their
interrelatedness leads to a synthesis of theological aspects of the Sabbath.
Chapter 7 presents the overall results of the study.
The Sabbath encapsulates and reveals Gods presence in the world,
regardless of its nature and condition. The Sabbath was introduced by divine
cessation from work in order for holiness to enter the world for the benefit of
all humanity. Holiness is the essence of the divine-human relationship, which
enables human beings to fully become what they were created to be; i.e., in
the image of the Creator. In its rhythmic recurrence, the Sabbath signifies
the Creators constant presence in the world and his care for it. Since the fall
into sin, the Sabbath liberates people from oppressive regimes of man-made
gods; it places them in proper relationships with each other; it relieves their
attitude toward work in a society exhausted and stressed by hard labor; and
it testifies to the sacred design in time and space whereby they can recognize
and emulate the Maker of all. Thus the Sabbath is an important part of Gods
program for restoring the imago Dei in fallen human beings.
Dissertation Abstracts
355
A COMPARATIVE STUDY OF THE CONCEPT OF

ATONEMENT IN THE WRITINGS OF
JOHN R. W. STOTT AND
ELLEN G. WHITE
Name of researcher:
Lawrence O. Oladini
Name of adviser:
John T. Baldwin, Ph.D.
Date completed:
July 2011
Introduction
The study examines two evangelical penal substitutionary theologies of

atonement presented by John Stott and Ellen White. It adopts a descriptive
and analytic approach for examining the respective atonement theologies
of both authors. Chapter 1 introduces the purpose of the dissertation and
the methodology adopted. Chapter 2 examines the different theories of
atonement in Christian theology. Chapters 3 and 4 examine the respective
atonement theologies of Stott and White. Chapter 5 is a comparative analysis
of the concept of atonement in both authors, while chapter 6 summarizes the
conclusions of the study.
Purpose
The purpose of the research is to describe, analyze, and compare the concepts
of atonement as articulated in the theological writings of Stott and White. The
study endeavors to explore the contrasting scope of atonement presented in
the two respective theological systems. It also aims at discovering whether
there are any evangelical theological bases for a rapprochement between
Stotts atonement theology (which is centered on the cross) and that of
White (which is likewise centered on the cross, but also includes the heavenly
sanctuary ministry of Christ). Additionally, the research also aims at finding
out the reasons for the differences in their atonement theologies, since they
both subscribe to the penal substitutionary view. Another goal of the research
is to discover any distinctive contributions that both theologies have made to
the Christian theology of atonement.
Method
In order to bring out the similarities and differences between the two
theologies of atonement, the study examines their respective assumptions,
presuppositions, and methodology. Other relevant criteria used in the
comparative study include the centrality of the cross, the achievement of the
cross, atonement as substitution, the high-priestly ministry of Christ, and the
scope of the atonement.
Conclusion
The conclusion of the study shows that the atonement theologies of Stott and
White reveal a common commitment to two pillars of evangelicalism, namely,
356
the supreme authority of Scripture and the penal substitutionary view of

atonement. However, critical differences between the two theologies in respect
to the presuppositions in their doctrines of God in relation to atonement on
the cross versus atonement in stages, the extent of the atonement, the issue of
the revocability of justification, the cosmic-controversy theme, and the highpriestly ministry of Christ seem to account for the differences observed in the
theologies. Overall, Whites theology seems to be broader in its presentation
of the scope of the atonement and seems to be more consistent with the
scriptural evidence. It is hoped that the renewed interest in the judgment
aspect of the atonement by some evangelical theologians in recent times may
lead to a more sympathetic examination of the broader view of White on
atonement in the wider evangelical theological arena.
BOOK REVIEWS
Abraham, William J, and James E. Kirby, eds. The Oxford Handbook of Methodist
Studies. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009. xvii+761 pp. Hardcover,
$150.00.
A brief overview of earlier Wesley/Methodist publication enterprises serves
to place the Oxford Handbook of Methodist Studies in perspective. In the midtwentieth century, Albert C. Outler of Southern Methodist University realized
that while much attention had been paid to Wesley as a revivalist and spiritual
leader, little attention had been paid to his theological writing. Consequently
he edited John Wesley, a 516-page groundbreaking study of Wesleys theological
work, which was published in 1964 in the Oxford Library of Protestant Thought
series. At the outset it was questioned whether this was appropriate to Protestant
Thought, but the study lit a candle and became the most frequently republished
volume.
In 1960, led by Outler, then considered to be the most influential
Methodist theologian of the twentieth century(595), Frank Baker, Robert
Cushman, and a network of scholars in the United States and the United
Kingdom organized the Wesley Works Editorial Project. Publication of the
scholarly Bicentennial Edition of the Works of John Wesley was commenced in the
mid-1970s, and sixteen highly esteemed volumes of the proposed thirty-five
have been published.
The Handbook marks the third great venture in the publication of
Wesley/Methodist studies. The use of Methodist rather than Wesley in the title
is significant. Whereas the two previous publishing ventures focus specifically
on the work of the Wesleys, Methodist indicates a broader and more inclusive
approach. Building upon the work of a large body of Methodist scholars
over the past fifty years, the Handbook, composed of forty-three chapters
organized in six sections, portrays a comprehensive view of Methodism in
historical, contemporary, and global perspectives.
The first and longest section, Part 1, with eleven chapters, is devoted to
a portrayal of the history of the development of Methodism from its early
beginnings to a large international community of denominations. The concern
at the outset is to provide a clear and balanced picture of the thought and
work of the Wesley brothers and the foundation they laid for an expanding
Christian community. It progresses to a portrayal of the establishment of
Methodism in America under the leadership of Francis Asbury. Inspired by the
vision to reform the nation and spread scriptural holiness over these lands
(213), it grew rapidly. By 1850, one third of all churchgoers in the United
States were Methodists (432). By the early twentieth century, Methodism
had grown into the largest cluster of Protestant denominations in North
America with the largest mission force (432). Sections on relationships with
the United Brethren Church, the growth of African-American Methodism,
and the rise of Pentecostalism are included in the Handbook.
357
358
The five chapters in Part 2 on Ecclesial Forms and Structures

are devoted to the study of forms of ministry ranging from itinerancy to
episcopacy, and to the transformation of personal lives and the reconstruction
of society(200). The section on the status and functions of lay elders and
their relationship to ordained ministers (270-273) is of interest to Seventhday Adventists, inasmuch as this pattern of lay ministry was adopted by
the emerging Adventist Church. Of similar interest is the section on the
ordination of women (272-273). Helpful suggestions are made on prayer,
on searching the Scriptures, and on the celebration of the Lords Supper in
chapter 16, Means of Grace.
Part 3 is composed of five chapters on the fundamental dimensions of
worship and the functions of the minister. The introductory chapter draws on
the experience of Wesley, who mined the liturgical riches of the early church
for practices not found in Anglicanism, (298) and who developed the love
feast as an experience of spiritual fellowship and joy in the Lord. The chapter
on Music and Hymnody points to the significance of congregational singing
as a heartwarming experience and as a means of implanting the fundamentals
of belief in the mind. The section concludes with a chapter on the shape and
development of Methodist preaching and an appeal for more consistent use
of the whole Bible in sermon construction. Interestingly, three of these five
chapters are written by women.
The six chapters in Part 4, Spiritual Experiences, Evangelism, Mission,
and Ecumenism, contain a wealth of practical material. The personal spiritual
experience of the Wesleys and Phoebe Palmer is described, and attention is
paid to the transforming power of a personal encounter with God and its
significance in the rapid expansion of Methodism. Ways of witnessing are
suggested in the context of an emerging post-modern and post-Christendom
culture in which there is widespread ignorance of the gospel story (427).
Commencing with Wesleys famous statement I look upon all the world as
my parish and moving forward to the affirmation The World Forever Our
Parish (432) at the 1990 conference, an excellent survey is presented of the
great Methodist missionary movement. It covers some of its leaders and
their aims and achievements, the global spread of Methodism, and selected
contemporary challenges.
Wesleys contribution to Western theological thought stands out clearly
in the nine essays on Theology in Part 5. The chapter titles read like an
outline of the basic themes of systematic theology. Commencing with a
chapter on Scripture and Revelation, the connection between knowledge
and life (489) is described and also the fourfold foundation of Wesleys
theology: revelation, reason, tradition, and experience, subsequently called
the Wesleyan quadrilateral. The Trinity is dealt with not merely as an
academic doctrine, but as it relates to all Christian faith, life and practice
(505). Chapters on original sin, the Wesleyan doctrine of redemptive
Book Reviews
359
grace, Christology, Christian perfection, and predestination clearly define

Methodist doctrine and the relationship between theological belief and
the Christian life. The points at which Methodist Arminianism differs
from classical Protestantism are also indicated. These include Wesleys
rejection of the Augustinian doctrine of original guilt and the doctrine of
predestination, his affirmation of freedom of the will, and the threefold
doctrine of grace as prevenient, justifying, and sanctifying. The chapters on
Christian perfection and assurance present Wesleys doctrine as a robust
vision of human happiness (588).
The chapters in Part 6 on Ethics and Politics focus as much on the
practical Christian life, the essential connection between happiness and
holiness (635), as on broader church polity. The Wesleyan foundations of
several of the major issues in moral theology are considered. The final chapter
on Methodism and Culture commences with a quotation from Andrew
Walls: Expressions of the Christian religion are both heavily conditioned by
their circumstances and powerfully capable of transforming their settings
(712). Bebbington transposes this into a threefold model and applies it to
Methodism: (1) Methodists have often adapted to their surrounding culture,
(2) have frequently challenged the stance of their contemporaries, and (3)
have repeatedly been a creative element in societies they have inhabited
(712-713). This epitomizes the essential character of Methodism, and this
chapter serves to consolidate many of the issues in the history of Methodism
portrayed in the Handbook.
The editorsWilliam Abraham, Albert C. Outler Professor of Wesleyan
Studies at Perkins School of Theology at Southern Methodist University;
and James Kirby, Professor of Church History at the same institutionhave
rendered a signal service in the publication of the Handbook. Never before has
there been a single volume that grants the reader such extensive and detailed
coverage of practically every dimension of Methodism from its inception
under the Wesleys to its growth into one of the largest Protestant international
families of denominations. The list of forty-four contributing authors reads
like a Whos Who of contemporary Wesleyan/Methodist scholars, and a
survey of the table of contents provides a conceptive view of almost every
dimension of Methodism. Adventism arose in the later years of the Second
Great Awakening, during which many of the revivalist leaders leaned strongly
toward a theological Arminianism. A number of the early Adventist members
and leaders had been Methodists and, not surprisingly, much about Adventism
reflects its Methodist/Arminian theological and practical heritage. Thus The
Oxford Handbook of Methodist Studies can be useful in many ways in courses in
which this heritage is examined.
There is a long list of References at the end of each chapter, and most
have a shorter list titled Suggested Reading. There is a single thirty-two-
360
page Index that provides access to practically every event, person, feature,
and publication referenced in the Handbook.
Andrews University
Russell L. Staples
Alter, Robert. The Wisdom Books: Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes: A Translation
with Commentary. New York: W. W. Norton. xvii + 394 pp. Hardcover,
$35.00.
The author of a significant number of books, including The Art of Biblical
Poetry and The Art of Biblical Narrative, Robert Alter currently serves as the Class
of 1937 Professor of Hebrew and Comparative Literature at the University
of California, Berkeley. The current work, The Wisdom Books, is the latest
installment of his well-known series of original translations of OT books.
The book is a hybrid between a traditional commentary and a translation. It
differs from traditional commentaries in that it does not delve into technical
issues such as literary structure and linguistic minutiae or issues such as date
and provenance that are usually treated extensively in commentaries. Rather,
it focuses on the theological and linguistic features of the biblical text that
shape Alters translation.
The introductions to each of the biblical books (Job, Proverbs, and
Ecclesiastes) begin with brief overviews and then proceed to a lively, readable
translation of each of the books that attempts to retain as nearly as possible
the poetic nature of the books, while remaining faithful to the Hebrew text.
Along with the translation, Alter provides running commentary, though it
is not verse-by-verse as is found in most modern commentaries. Instead, he
comments on words and phrases that he has translated differently from the
norm or that have particular interest to the literary and theological flow of the
book. He often points to inter- and intratextual parallels that help the reader
to understand the greater context of OT wisdom literature.
Alter relies primarily on his own expertise in Biblical Hebrew, though he
notes in the introduction that it has been checked for form and content by
scholars in the field. The book lacks footnotes and has only a brief bibliography,
both of which would have been beneficial for the reader who would like to
explore differing opinions or to know who influenced Alter. He does, however,
refer to various scholars from time to time in the commentary and notes the
work of Michael V. Fox in the introduction to the section on Proverbs.
The primary strength of this work is that it gives readers a fresh, accurate
translation of OT wisdom literature. Alter truly is a master at translation,
which this work demonstrates well. The commentary is also well done. While
it leaves many things unsaid that a traditional commentary would normally
cover, it brings to light significant aspects of the language and theology of the
texts. For example, Alter interprets Job as a frame story (chaps. 1-2, and 42)
360
page Index that provides access to practically every event, person, feature,
and publication referenced in the Handbook.
Andrews University
Russell L. Staples
Alter, Robert. The Wisdom Books: Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes: A Translation
with Commentary. New York: W. W. Norton. xvii + 394 pp. Hardcover,
$35.00.
The author of a significant number of books, including The Art of Biblical
Poetry and The Art of Biblical Narrative, Robert Alter currently serves as the Class
of 1937 Professor of Hebrew and Comparative Literature at the University
of California, Berkeley. The current work, The Wisdom Books, is the latest
installment of his well-known series of original translations of OT books.
The book is a hybrid between a traditional commentary and a translation. It
differs from traditional commentaries in that it does not delve into technical
issues such as literary structure and linguistic minutiae or issues such as date
and provenance that are usually treated extensively in commentaries. Rather,
it focuses on the theological and linguistic features of the biblical text that
shape Alters translation.
The introductions to each of the biblical books (Job, Proverbs, and
Ecclesiastes) begin with brief overviews and then proceed to a lively, readable
translation of each of the books that attempts to retain as nearly as possible
the poetic nature of the books, while remaining faithful to the Hebrew text.
Along with the translation, Alter provides running commentary, though it
is not verse-by-verse as is found in most modern commentaries. Instead, he
comments on words and phrases that he has translated differently from the
norm or that have particular interest to the literary and theological flow of the
book. He often points to inter- and intratextual parallels that help the reader
to understand the greater context of OT wisdom literature.
Alter relies primarily on his own expertise in Biblical Hebrew, though he
notes in the introduction that it has been checked for form and content by
scholars in the field. The book lacks footnotes and has only a brief bibliography,
both of which would have been beneficial for the reader who would like to
explore differing opinions or to know who influenced Alter. He does, however,
refer to various scholars from time to time in the commentary and notes the
work of Michael V. Fox in the introduction to the section on Proverbs.
The primary strength of this work is that it gives readers a fresh, accurate
translation of OT wisdom literature. Alter truly is a master at translation,
which this work demonstrates well. The commentary is also well done. While
it leaves many things unsaid that a traditional commentary would normally
cover, it brings to light significant aspects of the language and theology of the
texts. For example, Alter interprets Job as a frame story (chaps. 1-2, and 42)
Book Reviews
361
that has been filled in with folklore and makes significant use of mythological
language.
Alter has brilliantly succeeded in his goal of producing a lively, readable
translation of Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes. I highly recommend this book
to any reader who wishes to understand the overarching theological themes of
these books and to read a translation that brings those themes to light. Alter
manages to avoid overly technical language, and his discussion far outweighs
any shortcomings.
Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary
Kansas City, Missouri
Russell L. Meek
Beentjes, Pancratius C. Tradition and Transformation in the Books of Chronicles,

Studia Semitica Neerlandica 52. Leiden: Brill, 2008, xiii + 211 pp. Cloth,
$154.00.
Over the past few decades, the Book of Chronicles, a historical work long
neglected and even dismissed by some biblical scholars, has been the recipient
of a resurgence of scholarly interest and activity. This renewed attention has,
in turn, resulted in a rise in the number of publications dedicated to this
important source of biblical history (for a recent survey of this development,
see the discussion by Sarah Japhet, From the Rivers of Babylon to the Highlands
of Judah: Collected Studies on the Restoration Period [Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns,
2006], 399-415; see esp. the cited references in n. 1). The reasoning behind this
renewed scholarly awareness is based in part upon an ongoing reevaluation of
the Chronicler and his merit as a historian, which has slowly yet steadily shifted
scholarship toward a more positive appraisal of his work. The question at the
heart of the debate regards the Chroniclers use of older sources. Specifically,
what, if any, early (pre-exilic) materials did the Chronicler possess and how
faithful was he to their content when utilizing them? Despite the Chroniclers
extensive use of source citations throughout his work, many scholars remain
highly skeptical regarding several issues: the veracity of additional information
the Chronicler provides that is not found in Samuel-Kings; the long length of
time spanning the events the Chronicler records and his own lifetime, which
must be dated at some time during the postexilic (Persian) period; and the
Chroniclers theological tendenz that many scholars believe led him to modify,
embellish, or even create accounts to suit his theological viewpoint. Of the
Chroniclers theological views, his emphasis upon a theology of immediate
retribution is perhaps the most recognizable.
While Pancratius C. Beentjes, the author of the volume under review, is
well aware of these issues, he generally avoids focusing on issues of historicity,
but rather devotes his attention to the Chroniclers literary style, message, and
theology. Only in chapter 7, where he presents the issue of the Chroniclers
Book Reviews
361
that has been filled in with folklore and makes significant use of mythological
language.
Alter has brilliantly succeeded in his goal of producing a lively, readable
translation of Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes. I highly recommend this book
to any reader who wishes to understand the overarching theological themes of
these books and to read a translation that brings those themes to light. Alter
manages to avoid overly technical language, and his discussion far outweighs
any shortcomings.
Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary
Kansas City, Missouri
Russell L. Meek
Beentjes, Pancratius C. Tradition and Transformation in the Books of Chronicles,

Studia Semitica Neerlandica 52. Leiden: Brill, 2008, xiii + 211 pp. Cloth,
$154.00.
Over the past few decades, the Book of Chronicles, a historical work long
neglected and even dismissed by some biblical scholars, has been the recipient
of a resurgence of scholarly interest and activity. This renewed attention has,
in turn, resulted in a rise in the number of publications dedicated to this
important source of biblical history (for a recent survey of this development,
see the discussion by Sarah Japhet, From the Rivers of Babylon to the Highlands
of Judah: Collected Studies on the Restoration Period [Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns,
2006], 399-415; see esp. the cited references in n. 1). The reasoning behind this
renewed scholarly awareness is based in part upon an ongoing reevaluation of
the Chronicler and his merit as a historian, which has slowly yet steadily shifted
scholarship toward a more positive appraisal of his work. The question at the
heart of the debate regards the Chroniclers use of older sources. Specifically,
what, if any, early (pre-exilic) materials did the Chronicler possess and how
faithful was he to their content when utilizing them? Despite the Chroniclers
extensive use of source citations throughout his work, many scholars remain
highly skeptical regarding several issues: the veracity of additional information
the Chronicler provides that is not found in Samuel-Kings; the long length of
time spanning the events the Chronicler records and his own lifetime, which
must be dated at some time during the postexilic (Persian) period; and the
Chroniclers theological tendenz that many scholars believe led him to modify,
embellish, or even create accounts to suit his theological viewpoint. Of the
Chroniclers theological views, his emphasis upon a theology of immediate
retribution is perhaps the most recognizable.
While Pancratius C. Beentjes, the author of the volume under review, is
well aware of these issues, he generally avoids focusing on issues of historicity,
but rather devotes his attention to the Chroniclers literary style, message, and
theology. Only in chapter 7, where he presents the issue of the Chroniclers
362
view of Israels history, does the author treat historical matters in detail. While
his text-based studies have much value, the authors reluctance to consider
historical issues (e.g., 62) in his evaluations, as well as a failure to utilize other
historical and archaeological sources to either defend or assail the historical
reliability of Chronicles, weakens the direction and potential impact of his
conclusions.
Beentjess book is the latest collection of kleine schriften by a scholar
engaged in Chronicles research and follows similar collected studies by E. Ben
Zvi (History, Literature and Theology in the Book of Chronicles [London: Equinox,
2006]); and I. Kalimi (An Ancient Israelite Historian: Studies in the Chronicler, His
Time, Place and Writing, Studia Semitica Neerlandica 46 [Assen: Van Gorcum,
2005]). Beentjess volume of collected studies is especially welcome since it
brings together articles that were scattered previously among some rather
obscure and difficult-to-obtain European journals and edited works. The
book is published in the Studia Semitica Neerlandica series, which recently
transferred from the Van Gorcum to the Brill imprint. Consequently, it
also inherited an excessively high purchase price. Unfortunately, numerous
editorial oversights (see below) detract from the books otherwise attractive
format and first-rate production quality.
Beentjes provides a well-written and thoughtful introduction that
summarizes the various issues surrounding Chronicles and generally states
his position. He also includes a helpful discussion on defining the genre of
Chronicles. However, while the author rejects various attempts to label the
work as either a midrash, an interpretation (die Auslegung), or as a rewritten
Bible, he fails to propose his own alternative. The final lines of this section
(6) end with two awkwardly written and contradictory clauses and lack any
concluding statement or closing remark, an error that should have been
rectified during the editorial process.
The book is divided into two parts. The first six chapters are textual studies.
Topics are the genealogies (1 Chronicles 15) and two episodes in Davids
reign (1 Chronicles 17 and 21), which are revisited in chapter 7. Using innerbiblical interpretation, 2 Chronicles 20, in which Jehoshaphats royal prayer
becomes a national lament, Beentjes dismisses von Rads characterization of
vv. 14-17 as a Levitical sermon and draws a parallel between v. 20 and Exodus
14. However, he fails to integrate more recent treatments of this text in his
revision, such as discussions by R. W. Klein (Reflection on Historiography
in the Account of Jehoshaphat, in Pomegranates and Golden Bells: Studies in
Biblical, Jewish, and Near Eastern Ritual, Law, and Literature in Honor of Jacob
Milgrom, ed. D. P. Wright, D. N. Freedman, and A. Hurvitz [Winona Lake:
Eisenbrauns, 1995], 643-657); and A. F. Rainey (Meshas Attempt to Invade
Judah [2 Chron. 20], in Studies in Historical Geography and Biblical Historiography
Presented to Zecharia Kallai, ed. G. Galil and M. Weinfeld [Leiden: Brill, 2000],
174-176) on its historicity, as well as the perceptive observations by G. N.
Book Reviews
363
Knoppers (Jerusalem at War in Chronicles, in Zion, City of Our God, ed. R.

S. Hess and G. J. Wenham [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999], 57-76) on the
critical function of the Temple and Jehoshaphats specific instructions during
the crisis. Beentjes also treats the account of Uzziahs leprosy (2 Chronicles
26) and Isaiahs role in Chronicles.
The final six chapters address topical studies such as the Chroniclers view
of Israels earlier history, a modified form of a recent paper (Israels Earlier
History as Presented in the Book of Chronicles, in Deuterocanonical and Cognate
Literature Yearbook 2006: History and Identity: How Israels Later Authors Viewed
Its Earlier History, ed. N. Calduch-Benages, J. Liesen, and N. Calduch-Benages
[Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2006], 57-75), in which Beentjes argues that
Jerusalem and the Temple constitute the overriding purpose of Chronicles,
as well as give evidence for a certain chronistic interpretation of selected past
events (forgotten traditions) by their vocabulary and presentation. Notable
here (108) is an inverted reflection of Israels enemies listed in 2 Chron 20:10,
which the Chronicler possibly derived from Deuteronomy 2. Repeatedly citing
Japhets comments on this issue, Beentjes concludes (112-113) that There is
no doubt that the author of Chronicles presents history to convey a certain
interpretation of the events. Thus the Chronicler shapes and interprets
history rather than invents it. Other chapters deal with prophets, psalms and
prayers, and war narratives in the book of Chronicles.
The final study addresses the meaning of the verb in Chronicles.
An excellent bibliography and set of indices completes the book. Notations
at the beginning of most chapters provide the reader with the place and
date of its original publication. To his credit, Beentjes updated, modified,
or otherwise revised most of his papers. However, the decision not to
update his 1996 essay, Jerusalem: The Very Centre of all the Kingdoms of
the Earth (appearing here as chap. 8), is regrettable, since several relevant
studies have appeared in the interim. These include important papers by
M. J. Selman (Jerusalem in Chronicles, in Zion, City of Our God, ed. R. S.
Hess and G. J. Wenham [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999], 43-56); I. Kalimi
(The Capture of Jerusalem in the Chronistic History, VT 52 [2002]: 6679; and JerusalemThe Divine City: The Representation of Jerusalem in
Chronicles Compared with Earlier and Later Jewish Compositions, in The
Chronicler as Theologian: Essay in Honor of Ralph W. Klein, ed. M. P. Graham, S.
L. McKenzie, and G. N. Knoppers, JSOTSup 371 [London: T. & T. Clark,
2003]); G. N. Knoppers (The City YHWH Has Chosen: The Chroniclers
Promotion of Jerusalem in Light of Recent Archaeology, in Jerusalem in Bible
and Archaeology: The First Temple Period, ed. A. G. Vaughn and A. E. Killebrew
[Atlanta: SBL, 2003], 307-326); W. M. Schniedewind (Jerusalem, the Late
Judahite Monarchy, and the Composition of the Biblical Texts, in ibid.; and,
especially, Sara Japhet (The Wall of Jerusalem from a Double Perspective:
Kings versus Chronicles, in Essays on Ancient Israel in Its Near Eastern Context:
364
A Tribute to Nadav Naaman, ed. Y. Amit, E. Ben Zvi, I. Finkelstein, and O.

Lipschits [Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2006], 205-219). Integrating these and
other recent studies regarding Jerusalem as depicted in Chronicles would have
served to strengthen his already fine study.
A number of typos and awkward sentences mar the book. Since one
assumes that English is not the writers first language, he should not shoulder
the blame for the numerous grammatical mistakes and spelling errors.
Rather, they betray substandard editorial work. Examples include: bij for
by (61); M. Oehming for M. Oeming (63); the reference to n. 7 on
p. 72 should actually be to n. 8; helpes for helps (73); modelled for
modeled (76); Read Sea for Red (or Reed) Sea (77); inclusing for
including; and I like to thank should state, I would like to thank (86).
Nevertheless, Beentjes has provided a fine volume of carefully researched
articles that represents a worthy, if not highly original, contribution to the
ongoing research on Chronicles. A festschrift honoring his work on Ben Sira
and Chronicles is forthcoming this year (J. Corley and H. Van Grol, eds.,
Rewriting Biblical History: Essays on Chronicles and Ben Sira in Honour of Pancratius
C. Beentjes, Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Studies 7 [Berlin: Walter
de Gruyter 2011]). It is hoped that his two-volume commentary on Chronicles
(hitherto available only in Dutch) will also appear in an English edition.
Jeff Hudon
Doukhan, Lilianne. In Tune with God. Hagerstown, MD: Review and Herald,
2010. 301 pp. Hardcover, $24.99.
As a musically voracious teenager in the 1970s with a strong interest in
my faith, I read everything I could find published by the church on music.
However, the general tenor of most of it bothered me, condemning as it
did entire genres of music as evilinsidiously inflicting spiritual, moral, and
even physical harm on all who dared listen. In 1983, as a capstone project
for the Honors program at Walla Walla College, I wrote a paper titled A
History of Appropriateness in Protestant Church Music. What I discovered
was that controversy over church music has been brewing, and in many cases
boiling over, for hundreds of years. The project gave me an even greater
sense that musics reputation had been unjustly besmirched by many church
writers, and left me with an abiding interest in books on music, the mind,
and spirit. Hence, I was eager to read Lilianne Doukhans new book, In Tune
with God. I was delighted to find the book impeccably researched, carefully
thought out, and clearly and convincingly written. While the entire book has
much to recommend it, I will focus on Doukhans efforts to restore musics
good name. Doukhan brings a wealth of experience from her scholarship as
364
A Tribute to Nadav Naaman, ed. Y. Amit, E. Ben Zvi, I. Finkelstein, and O.

Lipschits [Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2006], 205-219). Integrating these and
other recent studies regarding Jerusalem as depicted in Chronicles would have
served to strengthen his already fine study.
A number of typos and awkward sentences mar the book. Since one
assumes that English is not the writers first language, he should not shoulder
the blame for the numerous grammatical mistakes and spelling errors.
Rather, they betray substandard editorial work. Examples include: bij for
by (61); M. Oehming for M. Oeming (63); the reference to n. 7 on
p. 72 should actually be to n. 8; helpes for helps (73); modelled for
modeled (76); Read Sea for Red (or Reed) Sea (77); inclusing for
including; and I like to thank should state, I would like to thank (86).
Nevertheless, Beentjes has provided a fine volume of carefully researched
articles that represents a worthy, if not highly original, contribution to the
ongoing research on Chronicles. A festschrift honoring his work on Ben Sira
and Chronicles is forthcoming this year (J. Corley and H. Van Grol, eds.,
Rewriting Biblical History: Essays on Chronicles and Ben Sira in Honour of Pancratius
C. Beentjes, Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Studies 7 [Berlin: Walter
de Gruyter 2011]). It is hoped that his two-volume commentary on Chronicles
(hitherto available only in Dutch) will also appear in an English edition.
Jeff Hudon
2010. 301 pp. Hardcover, $24.99.
As a musically voracious teenager in the 1970s with a strong interest in
my faith, I read everything I could find published by the church on music.
However, the general tenor of most of it bothered me, condemning as it
did entire genres of music as evilinsidiously inflicting spiritual, moral, and
even physical harm on all who dared listen. In 1983, as a capstone project
for the Honors program at Walla Walla College, I wrote a paper titled A
History of Appropriateness in Protestant Church Music. What I discovered
was that controversy over church music has been brewing, and in many cases
boiling over, for hundreds of years. The project gave me an even greater
sense that musics reputation had been unjustly besmirched by many church
writers, and left me with an abiding interest in books on music, the mind,
and spirit. Hence, I was eager to read Lilianne Doukhans new book, In Tune
with God. I was delighted to find the book impeccably researched, carefully
thought out, and clearly and convincingly written. While the entire book has
much to recommend it, I will focus on Doukhans efforts to restore musics
good name. Doukhan brings a wealth of experience from her scholarship as
Book Reviews
365
a pianist, associate professor of music history and musiciology at Andrews

University, and her experience as a well-traveled citizen of the world.
A cardinal argument made by earlier writers is that certain rhythms, chords,
and even entire genres of popular music are at best damaged goods and
more likely simply evil. This notion always struck me as somehow Gnostic in
its equating a part of the created order with evil. During the Middle Ages, the
church adamantly denounced the interval of the tritone (three whole steps)
as diabolus en musicathe Devil in the musicand forbade its use. With
time, this prohibition faded, and today every hymn on every page of every
Christian hymnal contains tritones. In spite of many similar prohibitions that
have eventually wilted, commentators have continued to rail against the evils
of various instruments and styles. Doukhan incisively traces this objection
back to the Greek doctrine of ethos and the Platonic view of the spiritual
world as the only true reality. Music was held to be a sign of this spiritual
reality and was, therefore, able to effect spiritual and emotional changes in
listeners. Musical scales believed to upset listeners emotional equilibriums
were banned by the Greeks (47-52).
Doukhan contrasts this philosophy with the biblical perspective, in which
the power to transform lives belongs not to created objects or elements, but
to the Holy Spirit (53). Unlike the Greeks who conceived of good and evil as
residing in concepts such as harmony and dissonance, Bible writers describe
good and evil as obedience or disobedience to the law of God (54, cf. Mark
7:15). When it comes to music, however, church leaders have tended and
continue to side with Plato and Aristotle rather than Jesus and Paul.
So is Doukhan saying that music is neutral, completely powerless?
Certainly not. The real power of music lies in its ability to transform a given
situation, namely, to intensify, to beautify, to stimulate, to create associations,
and to build community (62). In my experience, and perhaps Doukhans
as well, it is the associative phenomenon that is most powerful in shaping
human response to music. We all have specific associations with individual
pieces of music: for me, Day is Dying in the West will forever conjure up
vivid images of Sabbath vespers in the Walla Walla College Church, while
A Bicycle Built for Two reminds me of my son as a three year old (he learned
to sing it at daycare!). Many of us have shared associations. Elgars Pomp
and Circumstance, March No. 1 reminds us of countless graduations, while
Tchaikovskys 1812 Overture evokes Fourth of July fireworks. Entire styles of
music have been linked in this fashion to various activities; for many in my
grandparents and parents generations, jazz was and always will be the music
of bars and brothels, and, therefore, unacceptable for Christian enjoyment.
For nearly all of my students, though, its just another style to be explored
and enjoyed. All of us, however, must recognize that these associations can
be personally intense for some. In addition, it must be remembered by those
holding personal views on what certain styles mean that even widely held
366
communal associations may change over time as the circumstances previously

linked with a piece or a style change. With concerted effort, associations may
even be deliberately changed. Because of these factors, all of us must think
and act charitably toward those with different associative constructs than
our own. Doukhan aptly cites 1 Corinthians 8 in this regard, suggesting that
substituting music-related terms for food-related ones is helpful for seeing
the relevant application (122-123).
Having established that music or any of its constituent elements have
no inherent moral qualities, but can be marshaled to reinforce either good
or evil, Doukhan cites the varied efforts of church leaders through the ages
to advance the gospel through music. She finds the most positive, energetic
example in the ministry of Martin Luther. Luther used music for evangelism,
worship, and community-building through his many chorales. Based almost
entirely on pre-existing musical materials (only three of more than his nearly
two-hundred compositions are original in both tune and text), Luthers
chorales are predominantly upbeat, rhythmic, and joyous, with more than
twenty-five percent containing syncopation (174). According to Doukhan,
Luther had no concept of sacred or secular musicall music was potentially
useful in spreading the gospel (181-182). While he retooled contemporary
popular music for worship, he also vigorously held onto earlier church music,
wanting to maintain connection with the church of the past.
In the final section of the book, Doukhan addresses the current state
of church music, and offers helpful suggestions for churches wishing to
maintain (or regain) a vibrant musical ministry. While much of the book lays
the groundwork for accepting contemporary popular styles within the worship
service, Doukhan is clear that she, like Luther, sees tremendous value in
retaining traditional styles. Her experience resonates with my own in that while
students enjoy and are blessed by contemporary worship music they do not
want traditional music to be excluded. Too often those in charge of planning
services, in a desire to be relevant, focus exclusively on contemporary styles.
However, in their quest to break free from the monotony of traditional
church music, they simply substitute one set of monotony for another. A
blended service will meet the eclectic tastes of most youth, and give many
older members opportunities to be gracious.
Doukhan examines several challenges for utilizing contemporary worship
music, including a frequent lack of musical training, amateurish technological
support, an ease of slipping into entertainment mode, the possibility of
emotional manipulation, and the difficulty of keeping ones attitude and ego
in check. She also discusses the challenge of finding pieces that are truthful;
i.e., music containing lyrics that not only have theological correctness, but
[also] depth, meaningfulness, directness, and poetic quality, and music that
is well articulated, flowing freely, and able to carry a message clearly (227,
229). The discrimination needed for making good choices is often in short
Book Reviews
367
supply, but is vital if church music of any style is to be truly meaningful. This
sifting must be done whenever one deals with new musicthere are far less
gems available in new music as it has not yet had time to be factored out on the
basis of quality. This is why, at least in part, that contemporary worship music
often pales drastically in comparison with established hymns. The hymnal is a
collection of gems that have stood the test of time. There have, undoubtedly,
been hundreds of hymns every bit as hackneyed as that praise chorus you
cannot stand, but thankfully they have been swept up in historys dustbin. It
will take years for a serious repertory of contemporary worship music to be
amassed, and by that time, there will a new genre pressing for inclusion.
In Tune with God is a must-read for those even remotely involved in
planning or presenting worship services, and for anyone wishing to learn more
about the sometimes-turbulent saga of church music. We all owe Lilianne
Doukhan a debt of gratitude.
Southern Adventist University
Ken Parsons
2010. 301 pp. Hardcover, $24.99.
I have argued that at the heart of the worship and music wars is the matter of
culture. At the outset of her work, Lilianne Doukhan, Associate Professor of
Music at Andrews University, recognizes the cultural nature of music, stating
unequivocally that true artists speak to their culture and have something to
say to their society: Through their works composers celebrate life, comment
on life, express their view of life, draw attention to issues in society, protest,
criticize, accuse, stir awareness and consciousness, or drive home a reality
(18). Music, worship, and, indeed, all of life is cultural. Therefore, a persons
appreciation of consonance and dissonance is subjectively based upon
ones cultural comfort zone. The harmonic language that Westerners find
so appealing took centuries to evolve to the satisfactory familiar perspective
from which we argue for our music as superior vis--vis other cultural music or
other contemporary nonclassical music.
Doukhan notes that A given melodic turn, a particular chord progression,
a rhythmic pattern, or a specific instrument may evoke a number of different
meanings (33). The reason for this is because music is an acquired experience.
Music does not happen in a vacuum but is intimately tied with, and carried
by, a given culture or society (38). Context and education give music its
meaning. There is no universal way music is appreciated in different cultural
settings (39; cf. 58). She gives a number of good examples of this statement
of fact. The illustration I regularly use is that of Bob Marleys first visit to
Russia. After performing his first number, the audience politely applauded as
they would after hearing a Rachmaninoff piano concerto. Marley responded
Book Reviews
367
supply, but is vital if church music of any style is to be truly meaningful. This
sifting must be done whenever one deals with new musicthere are far less
gems available in new music as it has not yet had time to be factored out on the
basis of quality. This is why, at least in part, that contemporary worship music
often pales drastically in comparison with established hymns. The hymnal is a
collection of gems that have stood the test of time. There have, undoubtedly,
been hundreds of hymns every bit as hackneyed as that praise chorus you
cannot stand, but thankfully they have been swept up in historys dustbin. It
will take years for a serious repertory of contemporary worship music to be
amassed, and by that time, there will a new genre pressing for inclusion.
In Tune with God is a must-read for those even remotely involved in
planning or presenting worship services, and for anyone wishing to learn more
about the sometimes-turbulent saga of church music. We all owe Lilianne
Doukhan a debt of gratitude.
Southern Adventist University
Ken Parsons
2010. 301 pp. Hardcover, $24.99.
I have argued that at the heart of the worship and music wars is the matter of
culture. At the outset of her work, Lilianne Doukhan, Associate Professor of
Music at Andrews University, recognizes the cultural nature of music, stating
unequivocally that true artists speak to their culture and have something to
say to their society: Through their works composers celebrate life, comment
on life, express their view of life, draw attention to issues in society, protest,
criticize, accuse, stir awareness and consciousness, or drive home a reality
(18). Music, worship, and, indeed, all of life is cultural. Therefore, a persons
appreciation of consonance and dissonance is subjectively based upon
ones cultural comfort zone. The harmonic language that Westerners find
so appealing took centuries to evolve to the satisfactory familiar perspective
from which we argue for our music as superior vis--vis other cultural music or
other contemporary nonclassical music.
Doukhan notes that A given melodic turn, a particular chord progression,
a rhythmic pattern, or a specific instrument may evoke a number of different
meanings (33). The reason for this is because music is an acquired experience.
Music does not happen in a vacuum but is intimately tied with, and carried
by, a given culture or society (38). Context and education give music its
meaning. There is no universal way music is appreciated in different cultural
settings (39; cf. 58). She gives a number of good examples of this statement
of fact. The illustration I regularly use is that of Bob Marleys first visit to
Russia. After performing his first number, the audience politely applauded as
they would after hearing a Rachmaninoff piano concerto. Marley responded
368
by telling the audience that this was not the way to respond to reggae. He had
to educate them on how to move and gyrate to the rhythm and sounds. They
had to be educated into Jamaican culture.
Doukhan debunks the concept that elements of music such as beat,
rhythm, and syncopation are evil in themselves. Nor are they evil because
their origins are in the spirit world of Africa. Such postulations are based
on misinformation, ignorance, or simply prejudice (23). She painstakingly
demonstrates both the neutrality of these elements as well as their universality.
For example, the fact that syncopation is a basic rhythmic feature of Western
European music since the Middle Ages was an enlightening discovery. It was
imported to Louisiana by early French settlers. Africans incorporated this
feature into their music, with jazz being the resultant hybrid.
Doukhans arguments and illustrations are an important positive
contribution to the worship wars. The issues at stake have nothing to do with
biblical orthodoxy or soteriological morality. It is all about culture. She also
rightly recognizes that the biblical perspective on worship addresses human
beings as a whole: the body, emotions, and mind. She strongly urges for a
balance to be struck between the cognitive and the emotive elements of
music. Addressing both mind and heart is still essential for todays worship,
she writes (102). Very little, however, is said about the body, and when it is
addressed (at least in one place), it is identified as our senses (37). I wish
to argue that the body should not only refer to the senses, but also to the
physical elements. The fear of dancing as a part of the worship experience
has led to denigrating the use and movement of the body in worship. This, of
course, arises out of the Greek dichotomy of the body and soulthe former
being evil and in need of suppression, the latter good and in need of elevation.
Holistic worship, however, must incorporate the physical. Many cultures, such
as the African cultures, use bodily movements as worshipful sacrifices to God.
Just as the music prior to the sermon sets the heart in tune to hear a cognitive
sermon, so music can set the pace for a physical expression of worship.
The issue of sacred versus secular is an issue of wholeness, Doukhan
proposes. She notes that There is no such thing as inherently sacred music,
neither by the use of a particular instrument or genre nor by a given musical
style. Our interpretation of music as sacred is also a learned experience
(44). It is the religious community that needs to determine which musical
language belongs to its own cultural setting, and which is appropriate to express
the values attached to the sacred and supernatural as they are understood
within that given culture or subculture (46). I agree strongly with her on
this point. Again, I draw on the Jamaican context: Marley and reggae music,
which were anathema to most devout Christians just a few decades (or
maybe just a few years) ago, have now found pride of place in the Anglican
hymnal, resulting in One love!/ . . . Lets get together and feel all right
Book Reviews
369
now recognized as a Christian hymn, sung with luster and danced with
vibrancy on many a Sunday morning in Church of England sanctuaries
across the nation!
Doukhan is correct that we must distinguish between the aesthetic
(spiritual) experience and a religious experience; they are not equivalent (48).
She is also correct in rejecting the Platonic dichotomy between the spiritual
and material world in terms of good and bad. However, I would not limit the
spiritual to the realm of the aesthetic. Spiritual is the overarching concept.
The opposite of spiritual is not material or secular. The antonym is profane.
There can be sacred versus secularthat is, something set apart for a special
purpose versus something for general use; the sacred or the religious can be
profane or it can be spiritual. The same is true for the secular. The focus of the
spiritual is the triune God, while the center of the profane is self. For example,
when Marley wrote One Love it was out of a deep Rastafarian religious
experience. However, the popular (what some would call secular) society took
it over and made it profane in the self-centered culture of drugs and sex. The
religious world has now rebaptized it and filled it with its original alterocentric
spiritualityan other-centeredness with its center in Jesus Christ.
All music can be appropriately performed (which is not the best word
because worship is not a performance, as Doukhan correctly argues) in
the public worship service if Christ is at the center. That is what makes it
spiritual. Whether it comes originally from nonreligious or religious
settings, music must be Christocentric for it to be acceptable for the worship
experience. In this vein, I would suggest that her historical (and theological?)
discussion of contrafacta (the technique of borrowing entire tunes and songs
from secular or religious traditions without substantially changing the mustic)
is worth the price of the book. This excellent discussion, beginning on p.
166, but highlighted throughout the work, should put to rest once and for all
the arguments of those who see worldly influences creeping into the church
when so-called secular music is incorporated into the worship liturgy.
Doukhans timid opposition to clapping in church (96) is a classic example
of the cultural nature of worship. She notes that people would never think
to clap after a prayer. In African (American) culture, all expressions are
accepted if they come from the soul. I have often experienced much clapping,
moaning, shouting, and rich and soft amens during a powerful prayer. As I visit
churches today, I find that clapping has replaced the traditional amen and/or
the nonresponse of more Eurocentric congregations. Clapping as a response
is not only done after the musical selection, but it is the response of choice
throughout the entire service, especially during a heart-touching sermon.
Walla Walla University
College Place, Washington
Pedrito U. Maynard-Reid
370
2010. 301 pp. Hardcover, $24.99.
Lilianne Doukhan, Associate Professor of Music at Andrews University,
summarizes the goal of her book as a defense of music. In particular, her
work focuses on music within the Seventh-day Adventist Church. She writes
for an Adventist audience and determines to bring light rather than heat to the
topic, by using objective criteria to formulate balanced opinions. The sources
of objective data for her reside in the Scriptures, the writings of Ellen White
(one of the founders of the Seventh-day Adventist Church, whose writings
continue to play a key role in church life), and the lessons of history. She
determines to give not only a reasoned discussion of the topic, but also to
provide practical lessons for the church.
The book is divided into five parts, which address the musical experience,
music in the Scriptures and the writings of Ellen White, the church wrestling
with music, the contemporary challenge, and music ministry within the
church. Two brief appendices are included: guidelines for worship leaders,
and a sample worship survey.
In Part 1, Doukhan sets forth the basic component parts of music
melody, harmony, and rhythmdescribing the characteristics of each in
turn, with emphasis on the concept of balance. She goes on to describe the
purpose of sacred music in terms of conveying theology and communicating
by touching the heart and mind. She sees sacred music as defined within
particular cultural settings (the human side of the equation), while finding
that it is pleasing to God when directed toward him (the divine side of the
equation).
Doukhan does not see any style or type of music as inherently right
or wrong, good or bad. She supports this premise by describing the Greek
concept of ethos, which was centered on the idea of balance and average. For
the Greeks, Behavior that did not feature harmony, balance, and measure
were [sic] considered to be evil (51). The soul could be changed by music
through its affinity to the harmonies and rhythms. Doukhan contrasts this
with a biblical concept of the transforming work of the Holy Spirit. For
her, the Greek idea smacks of idolatry, placing a certain magical quality of
transformation within the music itself. Thus where some speak of certain
types of music as bad or evil, Doukhan suggests a much more complex means
whereby music affects people within a particular cultural setting, based upon
associations made between the music and other elements of communication.
She purports that musics power resides in its ability to intensify, beautify,
stimulate, and empower communication. Its association with a message makes
that message more powerfully present to the human being.
On a practical level, Doukhan goes on to give six practical guidelines for
creating a responsible musical experience: we should understand our natural
Book Reviews
371
preferences, recognize that musical styles come with cultural baggage, realize
that music can affect our emotional and physical well-being, listen actively
to create a musical conscience, be honest about our musical expectations,
and create musical experiences that intensify high moral standards. She draws
from these guidelines a twofold lessonwe should take responsibility for our
musical choices and the effect they have on us and others, and we should be
tolerant of where other people come from in their musical journey.
In Part 2, Doukhan sets forth her philosophy of music based on her reading
of Scripture and the writings of Ellen White. She notes that the Bible does
not give direct instruction in a philosophy or theology of music. However, she
sees certain principles set forth in events in Scripture that illustrate that music
is both for God and for people. One of the central principles she enunciates
in this section is beauty. Others include mental, spiritual, and social growth.
Music done for the Lord is focused only on him. Doukhan questions whether
music in Adventist Churches has become more focused on the performer
and performance than on God. She calls for a balanced emphasis on joy and
reverence in focusing music on God. The musician is to remember that he or
she is playing or singing for God, to please God. Two central character traits
of God need equal emphasis: God is the transcendent Creator, and he is the
immanent Redeemer. Through focus on these characteristics, she maintains
that any musical style can be transformed into worship music.
Doukhan describes music within the ancient temple services of Israel.
She notes the similarities and distinctions between Israelite and pagan use of
musical instruments, describing how instruments were used in different ways.
She concludes that no instruments are sacred or evil by nature. It is the use
made of them that associates them with good or evil.
In regard to music being for people, Doukhan notes that music within
the church cannot be a simple matter of personal preference because it is a
collective experience of the community of faith. Too many times arguments
over music occur on the horizontal levelmy preferences versus yours. She
calls for a reorientation of the discussion to the vertical levelhow this or that
music can contribute to the glory of God. She has a nuanced discussion of
relating to the preferences of others in regard to musical tastes. On the basis
of concern for the weaker brother (Romans 14), she calls for a balanced
approach by not denying one persons feelings, while not allowing them to
hijack the entire congregation.
Part 3 deals with the churchs wrestling with issues regarding appropriate
music for worship. Here she reviews the history of music in the church from
NT times, but with a major focus on Martin Luthers use of contrafacta in
utilizing common secular tunes to express and teach the gospel to church
members. Luthers idea was to make the gospel relevant and memorable to
people in their everyday lives. Doukhan describes Luthers concepts at some
length. Surprisingly, she follows this with a brief description of John Calvins
372
and other Reformers contrasting viewpoints. She sees Calvins restraint

regarding music as reflective of his deep distrust of society, resulting in his
theology of the elect.
In a brief concluding chapter in this section, Doukhan describes in rapidfire style the shifts and changes that have taken place in both society and the
church since the time of the Reformation. On the church side, numerous heirs
of the Reformation followed in the footsteps of Luther to use contrafacta for
bringing the gospel to the masses. At the same time, events such as the French
Revolution and the rise of Romanticism shifted the focus of society to the
individual expression of the true self and a fascination with the mystery and
spiritual qualities of the past. Church music divided into two streams: high
church, with a focus on the vertical and classical music; and low church, with a
focus on the human aspects of worship, popular music, and the horizontal.
In Part 4, Doukhan grapples with the contemporary scene in church
music, illustrating the distinctions between Contemporary Christian Music and
Contemporary Worship Music. The former is that which is traditionally sung
by performing Christian artists and contains more complex instrumentation
and arrangements. The later is illustrated more in the praise songs sung by
a congregation. Contemporary Worship Music has simpler melodies and
arrangements for ease of group singing. She describes both the strengths and
challenges of Christian Worship Music. On the positive side, its lyrics often
come straight from Scripture; it contains unpredictability, which fosters more
attention and participation; and its repetitive lyrics help teach the words easily.
On the negative side, it can have shallow lyrics and a focus on sentimentality.
Because it is a new genre, many songs are produced, some of which will not
pass the test of time, which older styles have already gone through.
Doukhan provides a useful and nuanced discussion of harmony between
the message of the text and the music, standards of music performance, and
the use of new technologies in musical presentation, including a thoughtful
discussion about the use of sound tracks in solo presentations.
At the conclusion of this section, Doukhan discusses rock music in
the church. She describes it not simply as a musical style, but as a cultural
phenomenon that is characterized by using music and a set of dress and
performance patterns to protest against societal norms. She also describes the
musical elements of rock as meter and rhythm characterized by a constant
tension relationship, and electronic enhancement and manipulation of
instrumental and vocal sounds (244). She discovers its roots in the turbulent
days of the 1960s and 1970s. The goal of rock musicians was to heighten the
experience of human emotion and to probe more deeply the human psyche.
She notes the sharp contrast between such music in general and Christian
lifestyle, pointing to the way that the experience of rock culture and music
can take the place of God in the life. However, she proposes that not all rock
music goes to these extremes and calls for a balanced approach toward more
Book Reviews
373
subdued forms. She believes that the musical elements still require calling
such music rock, but maintains that it does not necessarily work against
societal values. She sees this type of music fitting the energy and excitement
of youth (247). It serves as a fitting representation of our fast and aggressive
urban culture. Nevertheless, she strongly cautions about using such music for
worship. Not only are many of the values of this music quite at odds with the
Christian life, but also it requires a very talented musician to bring this type of
music appropriately into a worship setting.
In Part 5, Doukhan addresses music ministry within the Adventist Church.
From years of experience in church music, she describes the role of the pastor,
the church musician, and what she calls the Worship Commissiona typical
worship committee for a local church. She recommends a proper valuation
of music within the church and a committee approach to the use of music
within the worship service. This avoids one person being responsible for any
missteps that might occur and helps to shield musicians from criticisms that
might arise from the use of a variety of music styles.
At the end of this section, she includes a chapter on change in worship
and music by utilizing lessons from history to describe the power of tradition
and the past. She maintains that the essential nature of the worship of
God has remained the same through history, though the form of worship
has modified to meet changing cultures and situations. She presents three
issues that have created unease with change within the Adventist Church:
the purpose of church music, the exclusive status of high-church music, and
the relationship between secular and sacred music (292). She seeks to resolve
the problem of the purpose of music (Should it elevate thought or express
the believers experience?) by reminding people on both sides of the issue to
remember the tension between being uplifted to God and yet expressing the
struggles of experience that exist within authentic worship. Regarding the
status of high-church music, she reminds her readers that the split between
low-church and high-church styles actually occurred during the nineteenth
century as an aspect of the Romantic periods glorification of the past. She
suggests a different way to view this divideadopt the spirit of the past, rather
than the products of the past (286). Regarding the use of secular music within
a church setting, she refers to the history of contrafacta in the Reformation
period and recommends embracing the change.
Doukhan writes clearly and her presentation is well organized. She
footnotes her statements carefully and illustrates in her writing a depth of
understanding of both historical and artistic detail in regard to music and a
sense of fairness and wisdom in counseling about how to relate to the thorny
issue of music choices within the church. Her presentation moves logically
from the experience of music to inspired counsel concerning its application
to the church today. Her overarching concept is balance, an idea that repeatedly
appears in the discussion and which prevents a one-sided presentation.
374
This is a thoughtful book, carefully written, and worth the time for any
church musician or pastor to read. The following critiques are not central
to the books overall value, but point to concepts that might be added in a
second edition:
A small erratum can be noted: Diagram A (93) is poorly labeled, which
could easily lead to the misidentification of landmarks in Herods Temple.
Diagram B on the following page has appropriate labels, though it lacks
reference to the Court of Women and the Court of the Gentiles (which is
preferable to Court of the Heathen in Diagram A).
I would have liked to have seen a focused discussion of the subject of
worship itself. Doukhan comes closest to this in chapter 3 (The Meaning of
Music) and in chapter 5 (Music for God). She focuses her attention on the
question of music in worship, rather than worship itself. Music is her area of
expertise, so this is not surprising, but can one discuss the meaning of music
in worship without first discussing the definition of worship? The interesting
ideas she has on the topic of worship are sprinkled throughout the discussion.
However, it seems that a focused presentation of them would strengthen her
argument and help explicate the underlying principles from which she works.
Another topic I found presented in laconic form was the theology or
teaching of John Calvin on music in the church. Doukhan takes almost forty
pages to describe Luthers teaching on congregational singing and the use
of contrafacta, but then allots a mere four pages to John Calvin and just two
pages to the Council of Trent. This seems rather one-sided and suggests an
affirmation of Luthers perspective without giving due weight to argument
on the other side.
Doukhan writes carefully on the subject of rock music and is cautious
about its usage in church settings. One point that surprised me, however, was
the omission of discussion of volume/dynamics (this could be added to the
first section of the book on elements of music). One of the major problems
of rock music with its electronic amplification is how loudly it is often played.
The Occupational Safety and Health Administration requires ear protection
for employees exposed regularly to decibel levels above 85 dBA (http://www.
osha.gov/pls/oshaweb/owadisp.show_document?p_table=standards&p_
id=9735). Rock concerts can be in the range of 120 dBA, which can cause
hearing damage within thirty seconds of exposure (see http://www.ddca.
org/pdf/1_ddca/Noise_Decibel_Levels_DDCA_OSAA.pdf). While church
music does not normally reach this level of intensity, there are settings where
the amplification is set too high for hearing health.
Doukhans careful call for balance in the use of styles and sensitivity to
the cultural and congregational setting in which music appears makes one
wish that many a pastor and musician would read this book before imposing
on their congregation a personally preferred form of worship music that
the congregation is not ready to use. This book is a valuable resource and a
Book Reviews
375
thoughtful read for both musicians and clergy involved with the ministry of
music.
Andrews University
Thomas Shepherd
Erickson, Millard J. Whos Tampering with the Trinity? An Assessment of the

Subordination Debate. Grand Rapids: Kregel, 2009. 272 pp. Paper, $19.99.
Millard J. Erickson, one of the most widely published and respected North
American evangelical theologians of the late twentieth and early twentieth
centuries, has produced helpful history, analysis, and assessment of the socalled Subordination Debate in Whos Tampering with the Trinity? Erickson is
a past president of the Evangelical Theological Society and has written widely
on the doctrine of God (God the Father Almighty: A Contemporary Exploration
of the Divine Attributes, 1998), and more specifically on the Trinity, including
a chapter in his Christian Theology (1982, 2d ed., 1998), God in Three Persons: A
Contemporary Interpretation of the Trinity (1995), and Making Sense of the Trinity:
Three Crucial Questions (2000).
The Subordination Debate is a theological initiative that has erupted
out of lengthy developments in the more recent history of American
evangelicalism, who belong primarily to the Reformed tradition and are
leading members of the Evangelical Theological Society. All of the major
protagonists in the debate claim to be biblical and orthodox in their views
of the Trinity. The key issue, however, that has become controversial is the
question of Christs subordination to the Fatherwas his subordination
eternal or was it manifest only during Christs earthly, incarnate experience?
Erickson identified two key views in this debate: Gradational-Authority and
Equivalent-Authority.
All participants agree that Christ was subordinate to the Father during
the earthly incarnation, but the controversy arises out of the claim of the
Gradationists that Christ has been eternally subordinate to the Father and
that such eternal subordination sets a pattern for other spheres of authority:
familial (husbands have intrinsic authority over wives) and ecclesiastical (only
males, not females, should have ruling authority in the church). Key protagonists
for the Gradational view include Bruce Ware, Wayne Grudem, and Robert
Letham, while the leading advocates for the Equivalent view include Paul
Jewett, Gilbert Bilezikian, Stanley Grenz (now deceased), and Kevin Giles.
Ericksons treatment reflects a valiant attempt to be both thorough and
even-handed. He notes that he struggled to find terms of identification for
each party in this debate, which is reflected in his attempts to avoid ad hominem
attacks. His thoroughness is evident in his identification of the key protagonists
and the flow of his chapters. After an informative Introduction, chapters 1
and 2 outline the respective views of each major party. Chapter 3 introduces
The Criteria for Evaluating Alternatives, followed by chapters 4-8, which
analyze The Biblical Evidence, The Historical Considerations, The
Philosophical Issues, The Theological Dimensions, and The Practical
Implications. The volume concludes with Summary and Conclusions.
Book Reviews
375
thoughtful read for both musicians and clergy involved with the ministry of
music.
Andrews University
Thomas Shepherd
Erickson, Millard J. Whos Tampering with the Trinity? An Assessment of the

Subordination Debate. Grand Rapids: Kregel, 2009. 272 pp. Paper, $19.99.
Millard J. Erickson, one of the most widely published and respected North
American evangelical theologians of the late twentieth and early twentieth
centuries, has produced helpful history, analysis, and assessment of the socalled Subordination Debate in Whos Tampering with the Trinity? Erickson is
a past president of the Evangelical Theological Society and has written widely
on the doctrine of God (God the Father Almighty: A Contemporary Exploration
of the Divine Attributes, 1998), and more specifically on the Trinity, including
a chapter in his Christian Theology (1982, 2d ed., 1998), God in Three Persons: A
Contemporary Interpretation of the Trinity (1995), and Making Sense of the Trinity:
Three Crucial Questions (2000).
The Subordination Debate is a theological initiative that has erupted
out of lengthy developments in the more recent history of American
evangelicalism, who belong primarily to the Reformed tradition and are
leading members of the Evangelical Theological Society. All of the major
protagonists in the debate claim to be biblical and orthodox in their views
of the Trinity. The key issue, however, that has become controversial is the
question of Christs subordination to the Fatherwas his subordination
eternal or was it manifest only during Christs earthly, incarnate experience?
Erickson identified two key views in this debate: Gradational-Authority and
Equivalent-Authority.
All participants agree that Christ was subordinate to the Father during
the earthly incarnation, but the controversy arises out of the claim of the
Gradationists that Christ has been eternally subordinate to the Father and
that such eternal subordination sets a pattern for other spheres of authority:
familial (husbands have intrinsic authority over wives) and ecclesiastical (only
males, not females, should have ruling authority in the church). Key protagonists
for the Gradational view include Bruce Ware, Wayne Grudem, and Robert
Letham, while the leading advocates for the Equivalent view include Paul
Jewett, Gilbert Bilezikian, Stanley Grenz (now deceased), and Kevin Giles.
Ericksons treatment reflects a valiant attempt to be both thorough and
even-handed. He notes that he struggled to find terms of identification for
each party in this debate, which is reflected in his attempts to avoid ad hominem
attacks. His thoroughness is evident in his identification of the key protagonists
and the flow of his chapters. After an informative Introduction, chapters 1
and 2 outline the respective views of each major party. Chapter 3 introduces
The Criteria for Evaluating Alternatives, followed by chapters 4-8, which
analyze The Biblical Evidence, The Historical Considerations, The
Philosophical Issues, The Theological Dimensions, and The Practical
Implications. The volume concludes with Summary and Conclusions.
376
Erickson challenges ones thinking, especially in the sense that he

provides so many factors important to sound theological reflection and clarity.
Thankfully, he not only brings a great deal of eminence and fairness, evidenced
by a thorough acquaintance with the writings of all of the major participants,
to his analysis and critiques, but he has also invoked a wealth of experience with
not only theology, but also philosophy, historical theology, biblical exegesis, and
applied theology. This readable volume is not only must reading for those who
are interested in Trinity and feminist issues from an evangelical perspective,
but is also an outstanding exhibit of sound theological methodology.
While one may disagree with Ericksons conclusions (on every central
issue in the debate he has concluded that the prevailing evidence supports the
Equivalent-Authority View), any attentive reader should come away from
reading this work with two important senses: they will know that they have
been exposed to an enriching theological tutorial, and been empowered to be
more ably analytical and theologically critical.
Woodrow Whidden
Fladerer, Ludwig. Augustinus als Exeget: Zu seinen Kommentaren des Galaterbriefes

und der Genesis. Vienna: sterreichische Akadamie der Wissenschaften,
2010. 261 pp. Paper, $80.00.
Augustine scholarship has at its disposal a multitude of volumes written from
the perspective of historical theology and church history, typically addressing
a specific theological concern. Ludwig Fladerer in Augustinus als Exeget: Zu
seinen Kommentaren des Galaterbriefes und der Genesis presents a different approach.
He endeavors to better understand the role of Augustine as biblical exegete,
and does this from the perspective of a philologist with interest in semiotics.
He is, therefore, interested in how Augustine uses words as signs, and in the
meanings that can be mined from understanding the structures comprising
his Bible commentaries.
The thrust of Fladerers work is that the rhetorical and linguistic strategies
used by Augustine to address practical concerns in his Bible commentaries
indicate a Neoplatonic-friendly semiotic step-model (233), which would
later come to fruition in his renowned discussion of things and signs in De
doctrina christiana. He finds he can best demonstrate this by using Augustines
three Genesis commentaries (De Genesi adversus Manichaeos, De Genesis ad litteram
imperfectus liber, and De Genesi ad litteram), in which the early church theologian
discusses both the verbal layer of the text and the layer of meaning it is
meant to signify. Thus it is only peripherally that Fladerers concern is with
Augustines theology of creation. This becomes clear when he explains what
Augustines commentary on Galatians has to do with his commentary on
Genesis: in terms of content, nothing; in terms of form and method, much.
Indeed, Fladerer feels that a comparative study is the best means to
achieve his aim. The problem is that Augustines contemporaries were generally
376
Erickson challenges ones thinking, especially in the sense that he

provides so many factors important to sound theological reflection and clarity.
Thankfully, he not only brings a great deal of eminence and fairness, evidenced
by a thorough acquaintance with the writings of all of the major participants,
to his analysis and critiques, but he has also invoked a wealth of experience with
not only theology, but also philosophy, historical theology, biblical exegesis, and
applied theology. This readable volume is not only must reading for those who
are interested in Trinity and feminist issues from an evangelical perspective,
but is also an outstanding exhibit of sound theological methodology.
While one may disagree with Ericksons conclusions (on every central
issue in the debate he has concluded that the prevailing evidence supports the
Equivalent-Authority View), any attentive reader should come away from
reading this work with two important senses: they will know that they have
been exposed to an enriching theological tutorial, and been empowered to be
more ably analytical and theologically critical.
Woodrow Whidden
Fladerer, Ludwig. Augustinus als Exeget: Zu seinen Kommentaren des Galaterbriefes

und der Genesis. Vienna: sterreichische Akadamie der Wissenschaften,
2010. 261 pp. Paper, $80.00.
Augustine scholarship has at its disposal a multitude of volumes written from
the perspective of historical theology and church history, typically addressing
a specific theological concern. Ludwig Fladerer in Augustinus als Exeget: Zu
seinen Kommentaren des Galaterbriefes und der Genesis presents a different approach.
He endeavors to better understand the role of Augustine as biblical exegete,
and does this from the perspective of a philologist with interest in semiotics.
He is, therefore, interested in how Augustine uses words as signs, and in the
meanings that can be mined from understanding the structures comprising
his Bible commentaries.
The thrust of Fladerers work is that the rhetorical and linguistic strategies
used by Augustine to address practical concerns in his Bible commentaries
indicate a Neoplatonic-friendly semiotic step-model (233), which would
later come to fruition in his renowned discussion of things and signs in De
doctrina christiana. He finds he can best demonstrate this by using Augustines
three Genesis commentaries (De Genesi adversus Manichaeos, De Genesis ad litteram
imperfectus liber, and De Genesi ad litteram), in which the early church theologian
discusses both the verbal layer of the text and the layer of meaning it is
meant to signify. Thus it is only peripherally that Fladerers concern is with
Augustines theology of creation. This becomes clear when he explains what
Augustines commentary on Galatians has to do with his commentary on
Genesis: in terms of content, nothing; in terms of form and method, much.
Indeed, Fladerer feels that a comparative study is the best means to
achieve his aim. The problem is that Augustines contemporaries were generally
Book Reviews
377
not interested in producing works of exegesis on the creation narrative.

Resourcefully, the philologist first turns to Augustines commentary on
Galatians, for which a comparison presents itself in Gaius Marius Victorinus,
Ambrose, and Jerome; thus Fladerers curious first sixty pages on Augustines
commentary on Galatians. The remainder and bulk of the work examines
Augustines three Genesis commentaries in turn, evaluating them based on
the conclusions derived from the Galatians comparative study.
Being a work in the area of semiotics, Augustinus als Exeget is not what a
historical or systematic theologian might be accustomed. There are, however,
some aspects of the volume that are of value to those not enamored by the
call of semiotics. For example, discussion of each commentary is preceded
by an overview of the critical literature for that commentary and some of the
issues each is concerned. Further, what the philological study enables one to
see are words, phrases, and patterns that indicate where Augustines emphases
lay, as well as his method in crafting exegetical arguments.
The largest criticism a theologian uninterested in semiotics might be able
to make of the work is one of methodology. That is to say, the extreme
atomization that results from concentrating on individual words, phrases, and
microstructures seems ineffective in the long term. Sometimes the forest is
lost, and even the trees themselves, for such intense interest in the leaves and
branches. Augustine as an exegete can only be truly understood when one
takes stock of the entire stream of his argument. What views is he battling?
What are his hermeneutical presuppositions that emerge amid discussion of
specific issues? What is the content of Augustines creation theology, and
what is it attempting to achieve? How did this view develop and change over
time? A point of fatality in Fladerers argument is his attempt to analyze
structures in Augustines commentaries in order to ascertain his semiotic
model, outlining the relationship between the verbal and the signified without
letting Augustine speak for himself in the broad literal sense; but that is
perhaps because Fladerer is not too keen on the literal.
A case in point: one of Fladerers conclusions is the irrelevance of
the literal for Augustine as an exegete (e.g., 175-176). He claims that the
goal of exegesis is not primarily information, but conversion. Even in his
commentaries, Augustine does not wish to delve into historical criticism,
because the historia of the Bible only presents transitory value (234). Thus
Augustine is concerned not merely with the words of the biblical text but
with deeper meanings, especially as they serve to convert the readers heart
and mind. Fladerers assertion is overly simplistic, however, ignoring the
historical development of the content of Augustines creation theology, and
what Augustine himself wrote about this development.
It is true that the first sentence of De Genensis ad litteram proposes that all
Scripture has a figurative meaning. Nevertheless, it also proposes that Scripture
has a definite literal meaning as well, despite an apparent polyvalence as
378
the philologist suggests (234). In Book I, Augustine explicitly discusses the

fact that his earlier anti-Manichean Genesis commentary was an avoidance
tactic, used because he did not, at that time, have an adequate understanding
of the literal meaning. With the passing of time, Augustine claims, the
importance and attainability of the task of understanding the literal meaning
became evident to him. Augustine makes it clear through painful repetition (a
structural feature that Fladerer should have picked up on) that the figurative
meaning must be grounded in the historical reality presented by the literal
meaning of the text (e.g., De Gen. ad lit. VIII; IX.12.20).
While he sometimes claims that his interpretation of the literal meaning
is tentative, Augustine is a long way from saying that the literal meaning is
irrelevant. In his later commentary, in addition to suggesting what the literal
meaning is, he is very clear in saying what the literal meaning definitely is not
because he knows that it can have destructive consequences. If the literal were
irrelevant, he would have had no problem with the literal meanings proposed
by the Manicheans with whom he formerly shared companymeanings which
the commentary is clearly meant to counter. It is not an issue of the importance
of either one or the other for Augustine, but an issue of both/and. The real
issue to explore is the question, What does literal mean for Augustine?
More useful than scrutinizing words, phrases, and minute structures would
be an examination of the exegetes broad hermeneutical presuppositions. It is
essential to understand that for Augustine literal might not mean verbally
equivalent or univocal, but it does mean historically real.
As a work in philology, Augustinus als Exeget seems rather impressive to a
theologian not well acquainted with the theories and debates of the field of
semiotics. Within its own field, it may well be an innovative and useful work
worth acquiring. But for those interested in historical-theological matters, who
seek a work with clear-cut summaries and theological implications, Augustinus
als Exeget is a volume that one might be content merely to peruse, as it seems
to obfuscate more than enlighten.
Kalamazoo, Michigan
Jamie G. Boucher
Halpern, Baruch, and Andr Lemaire, eds. Matthew J. Adams, assoc. ed. The
Books of Kings: Sources, Composition, Historiography and Reception, Supplements
to Vetus Testamentum 129. Leiden: Brill, 2010. xvi + 710 pp. Cloth,
$262.00.
The book under review, The Books of Kings, edited by Baruch Halpern and Andr
Lemaire, appears as volume 129 in the Supplements to the Vetus Testamentum
series and, following the usual practice of this esteemed publication by Brill,
presents a collection of studies focusing on a particular biblical theme or book.
The volume reviewed here addresses historical issues surrounding the books
378
the philologist suggests (234). In Book I, Augustine explicitly discusses the

fact that his earlier anti-Manichean Genesis commentary was an avoidance
tactic, used because he did not, at that time, have an adequate understanding
of the literal meaning. With the passing of time, Augustine claims, the
importance and attainability of the task of understanding the literal meaning
became evident to him. Augustine makes it clear through painful repetition (a
structural feature that Fladerer should have picked up on) that the figurative
meaning must be grounded in the historical reality presented by the literal
meaning of the text (e.g., De Gen. ad lit. VIII; IX.12.20).
While he sometimes claims that his interpretation of the literal meaning
is tentative, Augustine is a long way from saying that the literal meaning is
irrelevant. In his later commentary, in addition to suggesting what the literal
meaning is, he is very clear in saying what the literal meaning definitely is not
because he knows that it can have destructive consequences. If the literal were
irrelevant, he would have had no problem with the literal meanings proposed
by the Manicheans with whom he formerly shared companymeanings which
the commentary is clearly meant to counter. It is not an issue of the importance
of either one or the other for Augustine, but an issue of both/and. The real
issue to explore is the question, What does literal mean for Augustine?
More useful than scrutinizing words, phrases, and minute structures would
be an examination of the exegetes broad hermeneutical presuppositions. It is
essential to understand that for Augustine literal might not mean verbally
equivalent or univocal, but it does mean historically real.
As a work in philology, Augustinus als Exeget seems rather impressive to a
theologian not well acquainted with the theories and debates of the field of
semiotics. Within its own field, it may well be an innovative and useful work
worth acquiring. But for those interested in historical-theological matters, who
seek a work with clear-cut summaries and theological implications, Augustinus
als Exeget is a volume that one might be content merely to peruse, as it seems
to obfuscate more than enlighten.
Kalamazoo, Michigan
Jamie G. Boucher
Halpern, Baruch, and Andr Lemaire, eds. Matthew J. Adams, assoc. ed. The
Books of Kings: Sources, Composition, Historiography and Reception, Supplements
to Vetus Testamentum 129. Leiden: Brill, 2010. xvi + 710 pp. Cloth,
$262.00.
The book under review, The Books of Kings, edited by Baruch Halpern and Andr
Lemaire, appears as volume 129 in the Supplements to the Vetus Testamentum
series and, following the usual practice of this esteemed publication by Brill,
presents a collection of studies focusing on a particular biblical theme or book.
The volume reviewed here addresses historical issues surrounding the books
Book Reviews
379
of Kings and contains a rich collection of twenty-nine essays that represent,

when viewed together, a state-of-the-art treatment of these canonical books.
The contributors are a distinguished group of twenty-seven scholars and
each addresses a specific aspect of this great biblical work in their respective
essays. Many of the authors are recognized experts in their particular fields.
Several authors, such as coeditors Baruch Halpern and A. Lemaire, as well as
A. R. Millard and K. A. Kitchen, wrote multiple chapters. A four-year delay in
publication necessitated updating some of the early submissions. However,
with a few exceptions (noted below), the essays generally account for any
dialogue with current scholarship pertinent to their topic and often offer fresh
insights in their treatments. There is little doubt that this volume will serve as a
standard reference for the books of Kings for quite some time.
The editors wisely chose to combine all references into a cumulative
bibliography. This welcome feature, appearing with increasing frequency in
edited works, avoids redundancy, eases the process of tracking down sources,
and economizes on space by streamlining an already thick volume. Three
indices covering subjects, biblical sources, and authors complete the book.
The overall production of the volume is simple, yet attractive, although a
few formatting issues are noted, such as kerning issues that are the result of
attempting to justify margins and the odd insertion of Hebrew letters in place
of the publishers names in the bibliographic entries for W. Rudolph and K.
Rupprecht (652).
The book is divided into six parts. Part 1 contains three studies regarding
the textual traditions of Kings from the Septuagint, Qumran, and Josephus,
which are authored respectively by A. Schenker, J. Barrera, and . Nodet. Part
2 consists of five studies addressing the literary aspects of Kings and includes
chapters on redaction history (G. Knoppers), two studies on characterization
and composition (R. L. Cohn), one on literary structure (Halpern and Lemaire),
and another considering outside sources cited in Kings (Millard). Millard not
only discusses the royal annals, the letters sent between kings, and the sacred
literature referenced in Kings, but also argues for a wide degree of literacy
even in rural towns and military posts during the Iron Age. He argues that
these earlier sources were both known and available to the author of Kings.
Millard concludes that the books of Kings have proven to be historically
reliable wherever comparisons with contemporary historical sources have
been possible to make and that there is little doubt that the books of Kings
were drawn from these earlier sources. Some of these test cases are discussed
further by Millard and M. Liverani in their valuable essays found in Part 3,
which compares Kings with other extrabiblical historical texts and attempts
to place the work in its ancient Near Eastern historiographical context.
Part 4 is devoted to nine people groups mentioned in Kings and includes
essays on the Moabites (P-E. Dion and P. M. M. Daviau), the Edomites
(Lemaire), the Ammonites (W. E. Aufrecht), and the Arameans (H. Sader)
380
to the east; the Egyptians and Arabians to the south (K. A. Kitchen); the
Philistines to the west (S. Gitin); and the neo-Hittites to the north (Kitchen).
The Phoenicians are represented in E. Lipiskis essay on Hiram of Tyre and
Solomon. While partially treated by Liverani and Millard, summary discussions
of Assyria and Babylonia, as depicted in Kings, are conspicuously absent. The
Levantine kingdoms felt the ominous presence of these great empires when
they first appeared on the scene during the ninth and late eighth centuries,
respectively. The survival of Israel and Judah was directly related to Assyria
by the middle of the eighth century, and Judahs fortunes were inexorably
linked with Babylonia by the final decade of the seventh century until the
fall of Jerusalem in 587/586 b.c. It is, therefore, puzzling why the editors
failed to treat these two empires that had such a major impact politically and
theologically upon the two Hebrew kingdoms, the exilic community, and, by
extension, the authors of Kings.
Deserving special mention in this section is S. Gitins masterful historical
and archaeological survey of the Philistines, complete with color plates. Gitin,
who for many years has been involved with excavations at Gezer and Ekron
(the latter became one of the five main Philistine centers), is a noted authority
on the Philistines and is uniquely qualified to write about the most famous
of the five Sea People groups. His sixty-four-page treatise goes beyond
the books of Kings and is, as far as I know, unparalleled as a source for
comparing biblical and Philistine history and culture. His chapter became, for
this reviewer, one of the highlights of the entire book.
Part 5 consists of seven essays focused upon detailed issues in Kings. E.
Ben Zvi treats the role and image of the prophets to the initial readers of Kings.
How the books of Kings represent the priesthood and cult is demonstrated
by W. Zwickel. G. Galil discusses dates and calendars, and R. Westbrook
investigates law as depicted in Kings. In her chapter on Officialdom and
Society in Kings, I. Ephal-Jaruzelska attempts to determine the domains
of various officials and their expressed roles as far as the biblical data allow.
She takes a novel methodological approach by separating officials recorded
during the united monarchy from those who later served in Israel and in
Judah. Ephal-Jaruzelska potentially treats each official title three separate
times. By doing so, she attempts to discover subtle differences in duties and
functions between the three kingdoms.
Drawing upon his research at Ashkelon and expanding Stagers Bronze
Age Port Power paradigm, D. Master discusses Iron Age trade institutions
as depicted in Kings. Masters chapter utilizes a strange combination of APA
and SBL styles (e.g., 514-515), which should have been rectified during the
editing process. However, he does a notable job in highlighting the importance
of trade and the control of trade routes for tax revenue. Especially significant
is the amount of detailed data present in the books of Kings that reveal the
local and regional struggles faced by the populations of these kingdoms and
Book Reviews
381
how closely trade relationships were tied with prosperity. One may assume that
trade between the inland kingdoms and Mediterranean port cities was mutually
beneficial since the limited agricultural hinterland controlled by the coastal
cities, coupled with a labor force fully engaged in seafaring, provided receptive
markets for food products and conversely provided inland kingdoms such as
Israel and Judah with much-needed manufactured wares and raw materials.
This economic arrangement can be viewed in the relationship between
Hiram and Solomon, the ninth-century economic and marriage ties between
Phoenicia and the Omrides, as well as those between Jeroboam II and Uzziah
during the eighth century, but perhaps also during the seventh, when similar
trade relations were quite possibly renewed during Manassehs reign (cf. 2 Kgs
21:3, 13). This point is overlooked in Masters assessment (510-511).
While Master correctly notes the importance of Hazeva, a huge border
fortress and trading hub in the Arabah, recently uncovered by Rudolph
Cohen and Y. Yisrael and usually identified with Tamar (cf. 1 Kgs 9:17-18),
he mistakenly cites Cohens encyclopedia entry (which itself is incorrectly
dated and lacking pagination) on Kadesh Barnea, rather than referencing one
of the late Israeli archaeologists summary publications on Hazeva (506, n.
20). Control over both sites was undoubtedly critical for extracting duty from
Arabian caravans.
Finally, W. Devers contribution considers the role of archaeology as
an outside test source for considering the veracity of the sources found in
Kings. Once again, he debunks the Copenhagen and Sheffield minimalist
(or worse, nihilist) school, which endeavors to mythologize Israelite biblical
history in part by dating its historical writings to the Hellenistic period. Devers
eloquently presented arguments amply demonstrate that writers or redactors
living during the Persian, much less the Hellenistic Period, could never have
known the historical details preserved in Kings; many of these details are
only now confirmed through archaeological excavations. While Dever holds
that the biblical record of the monarchy is largely accurate, he also writes
that biblical writers and editors, like all ancient historians, did not hesitate on
occasion to embellish their stories, or even to invent details, if this was needed
to further their ideological agenda (521, emphasis supplied). He illustrates this
point later, labeling it authorial intent (530) and noting the scant biblical
references to Lachish in comparison to the importance and promotion that
Assyria placed upon this major Judean city. Furthermore, his assertion that
the pm weight, an Iron Age monetary term, only reflects the realia of the
eighth and seventh centuries (Devers accepted composition date of Kings)
and provides an excellent antidote against a late Hellenistic date for Kings.
Nevertheless, his apparent refusal to place the pm weight in any pre-eighthcentury contexts (e.g., 1 Sam 13:19-21) constitutes an argument from silence,
which is notoriously weak and need not be considered seriously. Dever ought
to exercise caution when making assumptions on the part of the biblical
382
authors. This reviewer would argue that these ancient writers were faithful to
their sources and more accurately shaped their histories by selectivity in their
accounts, rather than embellishing and fabricating details.
I agree with Devers attribution of the eighth-century tower and palacefortress at Ramat Rahel (Aharonis stratum VB) to Uzziahs reign; in this, he
follows Aharonis early conclusion. Devers view challenges the interpretation
posited by Ramat Rahels current excavators, who, it seems, follow the
minimalistic ideology arising from Copenhagen and Sheffield by envisioning
the site as an Assyrian and Babylonian, rather than Judean, administrative center
that was founded no earlier than the reign of Ahaz. Unfortunately, several
inaccuracies tarnish Devers chapter. Two blatant errors are noted here:
First, in his example of correlations between Shishaks raid and the biblical
text, Dever claims that the complete victory stele of this Sheshonq, now
[resides] in the Cairo Museum (520). No complete victory stele recounting
a raid by Shishak/Sheshonq to Palestine is known to exist. Perhaps Dever
confused Shishaks Bubastite Portal inscription, which includes a toponym list
carved on the southern entrance of the Karnak temple of Amon, with the
earlier, but more famous Merneptah stele (itself the topic of several Dever
papers). Only a fragment of a stele bearing Shishaks name, long displayed at
the Rockefeller Museum in Jerusalem, was unearthed at Megiddo.
Likewise, contrary to Dever (530), no Babylonian-Assyrian coalition
existed in 609 b.c. and Necho II marched north to fight the Babylonians, not
join them, as Dever states. In actuality, the Saite ruler attempted to assist
the collapsing remnant of Assyria in an ill-fated alliance directed against the
resurgent Babylonians. Devers long familiarity with these well-documented
historical sources makes lapses such as these puzzling.
Part 6 contains three studies that discuss the reception of Kings during
the Second Temple Period and later antiquity. S. Castelli writes about the books
of Kings as portrayed by Josephus, a discussion that shares inescapable points
of overlap with the chapter by . Nodet in Part 1. M. Zetterholm presents
a study on the books of Kings as interpreted by the NT, and K. HednerZetterholm writes on Elijah and the books of Kings in Rabbinic literature.
When evaluating the books of Kings with Chronicles in the preface,
the editors hold the latter work as far more simple and less intellectually
challenging than Kings . . . more a comic-book version. Regrettably, this
sweeping verdict is itself an overly simplistic appraisal and one with which
this reviewer differs. Despite acknowledging that the nonsynoptic accounts
in Chronicles certainly offer an interesting subject in themselves and that
Chronicles encompasses a wider historiographic tradition than Kings, the
editors discount the mounting evidence regarding the Chroniclers use of
early sources and mistake his overtly theological presentation as historical
fiction. Concerning the nonsynoptic issues, arguments have long been made
suggesting that both Kings and Chronicles utilized the same Judean archival
Book Reviews
383
sources. Recently, G. J. Brooke (The Books of Chronicles and the Scrolls from
Qumran, in Reflection and Refraction: Studies in Biblical Historiography in Honour of
A. Graeme Auld, ed. R. Rezetko, T. H. Lim, and W. B. Aucker, VTSup 113
[Leiden: Brill, 2007], 35-48) has raised this theory again, utilizing evidence from
Qumran. Others have contended that it was often the compiler of Kings who
edited out material from his account that the Chronicler chose to include; for
example, L. L. Grabbe (Mighty Oaks from [Genetically Manipulated?] Acorns
Grow: The Chronicle of the Kings of Judah as a Source of the Deuteronomistic
History, in ibid., 155-173, esp. 170). Consequently, the nonsynoptic portions
of Chronicles must be evaluated not simply as a chronistic invention, but
as a possible source of supplemental historical information unattested in
Kings that was present in a common annalistic source used by both authors.
R. F. Person Jr. (The Deuteronomic History and the Books of Chronicles:
Contemporary Competing Historiographies, in ibid., 315-336) argues that
the Deuteronomistic History and Chronicles were written contemporaneously
with each other, namely, during the Persian Period.
One notable oversight in the book is the absence of treatments
summarizing the history of scholarship relating to Kings, providing an overview
of the present state of research, and discussion of possible future trends in
the scholarship of these books. Fortunately, several recent publications fill this
lacuna, notably the excellent historical surveys by T. Rmer and A. de Pury
(Deuteronomistic Historiography (DH): History of Research and Debated
Issues, in Israel Constructs Its History: Deuteronomistic Historiography in Recent
Research, ed. A. de Pury, T. Rmer, and J. -D. Macchi, JSOTSup 306 [Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic, 2000], 24-141); and T. Rmer (The So-Called Deuteronomistic
History: A Sociological, Historical and Literary Introduction [New York: T. & T. Clark,
2005], 13-43), as well as superb anthologies of influential papers concerning
Kings, ed. V. P. Long (Israels Past in Present Research: Essays on Ancient Israelite
Historiography, Sources for Biblical and Theological Studies 7 [Winona Lake:
Eisenbrauns, 1999]); and G. N. Knoppers and J. G. McConville (Reconsidering
Israel and Judah: Recent Studies on the Deuteronomistic History, Sources for Biblical
and Theological Studies 8 [Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2000]). Moreover, one
may cull selected studies from the edited works of S. L. McKenzie and M. P.
Graham (The History of Israels Traditions: The Heritage of Martin Noth, JSOTSup
182 [Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1994]); and T. Rmer (The Future of the
Deuteronomistic History, BETL 147 [Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2000]) for
additional supplementary material not covered in the present volume.
When appraising the history of scholarship regarding the books of Kings,
the contributions and lasting influence of Martin Noth cannot be overlooked.
Indeed the work of this doyen of German OT scholarship continues to be
analyzed and assessed in the volume reviewed here, forty-two years after his
death. Noth was thoroughly familiar with archaeological data and integrated
archaeological results into his writings. However, he recognized from both
384
personal experience and by observing others that archaeological facts

were provisional and subject to change and, furthermore, that archaeological
interpretations were often subjective and slanted to correspond with the
excavators (and his or her disciples ) own historical position or ideology.
Consequently, Noth was critical and cautious about utilizing archaeology as
a tool for appraising biblical history, particularly when making correlations
with the Deuteronomistic History. Nevertheless, this reviewer believes that
the high level of scholarship, the presentation of so much carefully analyzed
archaeological data, and the overall quality of scholarly inquiry and analysis
demonstrated in this book are exemplary, making it worthy of appreciation
even by the late German master himself.
Jeff Hudon
Helmer, Christine, ed. The Global Luther: A Theologian for Modern Times.
Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 2009. 326 pp. Hardcover, $39.00.
Four hundred and sixty-five years after his death, Martin Luther continues to
impact the world by the originality and genius of his ideas and the power and
passion by which he expressed thm. The Global Luther attempts to reinterpret
and assess the monumental impact and the relevance of Luthers ideas on
the modern world. The book is divided into five major themes consisting of
sixteen essays written by sixteen authors and an introduction by the editor.
The first section, Luthers Global Impact, written by Risto Saarinen,
Peter C. Hodgson, and Munib A. Younan, focuses on Luthers global impact,
moving between historical interpretation and contemporary concerns.
Saarinen describes the significance of Luthers life as an urban legend in
theology, modern literature, and philosophy. Hodgson contextualizes Luthers
view of freedom, especially in the West and particularly in the American civilrights movement. Younan describes and recontexualizes Luthers views on
the relation of Christianity to other global religions.
The second section, Living in the Midst of Horrors, alludes to Luthers
hymn, In the midst of life we are to give expression to the task, challenge and
despair of living in the world today (8). The essays in this section contextualize
Luthers life and work by wrestling with what it means to be human in the
face of experiences that defy meaningful explanation. James Jones explores
Luthers doctrine of justification through his academic discipline of psychology
by analyzing Luthers psychological and emotional makeup. Volker Leppin
struggles with Luthers doctrine of God in the face of lifes horrors. Krista
Duttenhaver works out a theology of suffering in the dialogue between Luther
and the twentieth-century thinker Simone Weil. Jacqueline A. Bussie ends the
section with a message of hope in a world filled with despair and suffering.
This hope we have in the possession of promises that are not yet completed.
384
personal experience and by observing others that archaeological facts

were provisional and subject to change and, furthermore, that archaeological
interpretations were often subjective and slanted to correspond with the
excavators (and his or her disciples ) own historical position or ideology.
Consequently, Noth was critical and cautious about utilizing archaeology as
a tool for appraising biblical history, particularly when making correlations
with the Deuteronomistic History. Nevertheless, this reviewer believes that
the high level of scholarship, the presentation of so much carefully analyzed
archaeological data, and the overall quality of scholarly inquiry and analysis
demonstrated in this book are exemplary, making it worthy of appreciation
even by the late German master himself.
Jeff Hudon
Helmer, Christine, ed. The Global Luther: A Theologian for Modern Times.
Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 2009. 326 pp. Hardcover, $39.00.
Four hundred and sixty-five years after his death, Martin Luther continues to
impact the world by the originality and genius of his ideas and the power and
passion by which he expressed thm. The Global Luther attempts to reinterpret
and assess the monumental impact and the relevance of Luthers ideas on
the modern world. The book is divided into five major themes consisting of
sixteen essays written by sixteen authors and an introduction by the editor.
The first section, Luthers Global Impact, written by Risto Saarinen,
Peter C. Hodgson, and Munib A. Younan, focuses on Luthers global impact,
moving between historical interpretation and contemporary concerns.
Saarinen describes the significance of Luthers life as an urban legend in
theology, modern literature, and philosophy. Hodgson contextualizes Luthers
view of freedom, especially in the West and particularly in the American civilrights movement. Younan describes and recontexualizes Luthers views on
the relation of Christianity to other global religions.
The second section, Living in the Midst of Horrors, alludes to Luthers
hymn, In the midst of life we are to give expression to the task, challenge and
despair of living in the world today (8). The essays in this section contextualize
Luthers life and work by wrestling with what it means to be human in the
face of experiences that defy meaningful explanation. James Jones explores
Luthers doctrine of justification through his academic discipline of psychology
by analyzing Luthers psychological and emotional makeup. Volker Leppin
struggles with Luthers doctrine of God in the face of lifes horrors. Krista
Duttenhaver works out a theology of suffering in the dialogue between Luther
and the twentieth-century thinker Simone Weil. Jacqueline A. Bussie ends the
section with a message of hope in a world filled with despair and suffering.
This hope we have in the possession of promises that are not yet completed.
Book Reviews
385
Section 3, Language, Emotion, and Reason, addresses Luthers attention

to how reason and emotion are conveyed through language. One of his greatest
literary contributions was his translation of the Bible into German, which
showed a remarkable sensitivity to the capacity of language to describe reality.
Birgit Stolt, using literary linguistics, examines Luthers translation practices
and shows how he is careful about using specific terms to express emotions,
particularly the ones attached to the experience of justification. Hans-Peter
Grosshans studies Luthers texts on reason to prove that Luther considered
reason a gift from God to advance communication and understanding.
Section 4, Luthers Theology for Today, is probably the most significant
because it highlights Luthers specific distinctive ideas that have made a
lasting impact on Lutheran traditions and beyond. The most significant of
these ideas, justification and the theology of the cross, are the foundation of
Luthers theology and have generated the most reflection from theologians
and nontheologians across the centuries. Theodore Dieter analyzes why
Luthers doctrine of justification still matters today. This vital issue remains
the raison dtre of Christianity. Antti Raunio addresses the social and ethical
implications of justification in the political reality of the Nordic welfare
states. Ralph F. Thiemann analyzes Luthers theology of the cross within the
contemporary context of religious pluralism.
Section 5, Politics and Power, addresses the ecclesial and political
dimensions of human life in the world. One of Luthers most revolutionary
ideas, the priesthood of all believers, if it had been applied directly to existing
political and religious structures, would have had a profound revolutionary
impact. However, Luthers own ambivalence about this idea greatly limited
its impact on the existing political and religious orders of his time. Peter J.
Burgard analyzes Luthers rhetoric from a literary linguistic perspective. Allen
G. Jorgenson shows how the idea of the priesthood of all believers can be
applied to todays liberation movements. Vtor Westhelle focuses on the
binary opposition of the two kingdoms and recontextualizes his theory in
view of the Lutheran global population.
The sixteen authors of the book who attempted to apply Luthers thinking
to the issues of our day have done a good job, considering the complexity and
enigmatic nature of the man. Recognizing the difficulty of analyzing the work
of one of the most original and provocative theological thinkers of all time
and using the prism of their various disciplines, these authors give new and
exciting ways of reading and interpreting Luther. They struggled mightily in
their attempts to grasp the immensity, depth, and paradoxical nature of many
of Luthers ideas. Birgit Stolt captures it well when she describes Luther as
impossible. How do you label or classify him? Is he a mystic humanist, or a
renaissance personality, or a forerunner of the Enlightenment? It seems that
he has characteristics of them all (131). She warns of misusing his writings
and treating him as a man of our time. The other extreme is no better, for
386
we also risk seeing him merely as a medieval former monk caught in the
superstitions of his time. Part of the complexity of Luther lies in the fact that
we must discard the saying that truth often lies somewhere between. In the
case of Luther, he was both/and rather than between. Stolt describes him
as modern in his theories and practice of biblical translation, and medieval in
his outlook on life and the world.
Part of the problem in understanding Luther is that he was the master
of paradoxes. Many of his theological ideas are expressed in paradoxes and
opposites. For example, he writes of a God who is revealed in his hiddenness.
He speaks eloquently of freedom, but asserts that the Lord demands
subjection to the authority of the state. He sees the Bible as promises and law,
grace and judgment. He encourages the peasants to embrace their freedom,
but urges the knights to destroy these same freedom-seeking peasants.
These essays highlight brilliantly the pervasive influence of Luthers idea
on much of modern Western thinking. The theological ideas on justification
and the theology of the cross are still a major theological foundation for
much of evangelical Protestantism. Luthers principle of biblical translation
and his passionate and precise use of words to capture the emotion of the
biblical text have set the standard for critical biblical translation. His focus on
freedom throughout his writings is rightly recognized by some of the writers
in this book. One describes it this way: One word captures what Luthers
name, life and work were all about: freedom was inscribedby his decision
into his name. Luther created the name Luther for himself, deriving it
from the Greek word eleutheria (liberty) (11). Luthers focus on freedom
was, however, on spiritual, not political or economic, freedom. But that does
not prevent his admirers and disciples from appropriating his concept of
freedom to their situation. The peasants of his day, as well as the civil-rights
movements greatest hero, Martin Luther King, understood the term in this
way. King was so inspired by Luther that his name was changed from Michael
King Jr. to that of the great reformer, and through the providence of history
the two men would be linked forever.
While Luther has been excoriated by his enemies and lionized by his
admirers, the question must be asked, Will the real Martin Luther stand up?
We can learn much from his own writings, but, of course, these writings
must also be interpreted within his times. Luthers writings can be vulgar and
harsh, especially against his enemies. He appears at times to be bellicose and
dogmatic, acting much like those he was castigating. At times, however, his
writing overflows with compassion, love, and tenderness, and he appears
as a gentle, caring pastor. In many ways, Luther personifies all of us in our
ambiguity and sometimes contradicting personalities. The writers of these
essays explore much of this ambiguity and give new perspectives on Luther.
In some ways, this book teaches us something about ourselves, revealing to
us our own inconsistencies, contradictions, and paradoxes if we are willing to
Book Reviews
387
be open to them. For those who read and admire Luther, this book should be
an important addition to their library.
Andrews University
Trevor OReggio
Hepner, Gershon. Legal Friction: Law, Narrative, and Identity Politics in Biblical
Israel, Studies in Biblical Literature 78. New York: Peter Lang, 2010. xx +
1110 pp. Hardcover, $155.95.
Gershon Hepner is a poet and independent scholar who has written a number
of articles on law and narrative. Legal Friction has been described by the editor
as a cross-disciplinary, progressive work, designed to broaden the horizon of
biblical scholarship in line with the series Studies in Biblical Literature published
by Peter Lang. The work is divided into three parts: the Genesis narratives,
the narratives in Exodus-Samuel, and primeval history (Gen 1:111:25).
The author covers a wide range of secondary sources, including Rabbinic
literature (Mishnah, Tosephta, and the Palestinian and Babylonian Talmuds),
the Apocrypha, Pseudepigrapha, post-midrashic literature, classical authors,
and ancient Near Eastern texts and inscriptions. An extensive index and a
fifty-page bibliography indicate the breadth of this volume.
Legal Friction is an intertextual study (a method reintroduced by, e.g., A.
Roberts and further developed by S. Sandmel, I. Seeligmann, N. Sarna, and M.
Fishbane) that follows the innertextual approach of David Daube, who first
identified legal elements in narrative. Daubes student Calum Carmichael is
credited for encouraging Hepner to enter the study of law and narrative (xvi).
As the title suggests, the book is about alleged social friction among different
identity groups within ancient Israel as reflected in law and narrative. Interest
in literary analysis and historical criticism is also shared by Carmichael, but
both interpreters reach conclusions diametrically opposed to each other. For
Carmichael, the laws were written after the narratives of Genesis, whereas for
Hepner the Genesis narratives were written in the light of biblical laws, which
are their Vorlage (539). Be that as it may, it goes to show the subjective nature
of generic theories and the tentative character of proposals for reconstructing
social settings behind the laws and narratives of the Hebrew Bible.
Hepner deals specifically with the Genesis narratives and the Sinai
codes (Covenant Code, Priestly Torah, Holiness Code, Holiness School,
and Deuteronomy). The book is built upon the following assumptions: the
Genesis narrative (1) was codified primarily in the exilic and partially in the
postexilic periods, long after the Sinai laws were given; (2) was cast in light of
the Sinai laws by making the patriarchs either conform to or transgress them;
(3) upheld the unconditional covenant of the patriarchs, over against the
futility of applying the Sinai covenant literally; (4) signaled Gods preference
Book Reviews
387
be open to them. For those who read and admire Luther, this book should be
an important addition to their library.
Andrews University
Trevor OReggio
Hepner, Gershon. Legal Friction: Law, Narrative, and Identity Politics in Biblical
Israel, Studies in Biblical Literature 78. New York: Peter Lang, 2010. xx +
1110 pp. Hardcover, $155.95.
Gershon Hepner is a poet and independent scholar who has written a number
of articles on law and narrative. Legal Friction has been described by the editor
as a cross-disciplinary, progressive work, designed to broaden the horizon of
biblical scholarship in line with the series Studies in Biblical Literature published
by Peter Lang. The work is divided into three parts: the Genesis narratives,
the narratives in Exodus-Samuel, and primeval history (Gen 1:111:25).
The author covers a wide range of secondary sources, including Rabbinic
literature (Mishnah, Tosephta, and the Palestinian and Babylonian Talmuds),
the Apocrypha, Pseudepigrapha, post-midrashic literature, classical authors,
and ancient Near Eastern texts and inscriptions. An extensive index and a
fifty-page bibliography indicate the breadth of this volume.
Legal Friction is an intertextual study (a method reintroduced by, e.g., A.
Roberts and further developed by S. Sandmel, I. Seeligmann, N. Sarna, and M.
Fishbane) that follows the innertextual approach of David Daube, who first
identified legal elements in narrative. Daubes student Calum Carmichael is
credited for encouraging Hepner to enter the study of law and narrative (xvi).
As the title suggests, the book is about alleged social friction among different
identity groups within ancient Israel as reflected in law and narrative. Interest
in literary analysis and historical criticism is also shared by Carmichael, but
both interpreters reach conclusions diametrically opposed to each other. For
Carmichael, the laws were written after the narratives of Genesis, whereas for
Hepner the Genesis narratives were written in the light of biblical laws, which
are their Vorlage (539). Be that as it may, it goes to show the subjective nature
of generic theories and the tentative character of proposals for reconstructing
social settings behind the laws and narratives of the Hebrew Bible.
Hepner deals specifically with the Genesis narratives and the Sinai
codes (Covenant Code, Priestly Torah, Holiness Code, Holiness School,
and Deuteronomy). The book is built upon the following assumptions: the
Genesis narrative (1) was codified primarily in the exilic and partially in the
postexilic periods, long after the Sinai laws were given; (2) was cast in light of
the Sinai laws by making the patriarchs either conform to or transgress them;
(3) upheld the unconditional covenant of the patriarchs, over against the
futility of applying the Sinai covenant literally; (4) signaled Gods preference
388
for the unconditional covenants, making it possible for the exiles to recover
their faith and eventually heed Gods call to return to Jerusalem.
To support the points above, the author uses a particular method derived
from midrashic exegesis. However, rather than using a variety of toolsas
one would expect in a book this sizethe author makes heavy use of one
particular technique: anagrammatic verbal resonance (472), which involves
the association of two different verbs sharing two identical but alternating
root consonants that produce similar sounds.
Because the author juxtaposes texts together on the basis of verbs
anchored by their resonating consonants, much is at stake in his midrashic
approach (xvi). It would be useful to know in detail what is meant by
midrash and how anagrammatic verbal resonance relates to traditional
forms of midrash. For example, the use of anagrammatic verbal resonance
does not seem to take stock of two distinct Rabbinic methods governing
law and narrative: variant, flexible methods for narrative (Aggadah), and
more limited, stringent rules for laws (Halahka). Saul Lieberman notes that
hermeneutical rules have long been applied to laws on the basis of choice and
discrimination rather than creative imagination as in narrative (Hellenism in
Jewish Palestine [New York: JTS, 1994], 78).
Hepner summarizes his methodology in eight steps (44), but holds that
a mere minimum of three justify use of his method. Further elaboration of a
set of criteria for the presence of anagrammatic verbal resonance could, chart
a clearer path amid the collision of suggested interpretations in Legal Friction.
Claiming that the rabbis believed the patriarchs followed the Sinai laws,
but without providing any supporting textual links (3-4), the author sets
out to provide just that by way of anagrammatic verbal resonance. Due
to the copious repetition of root letters in the Hebrew verbal system, he
finds a plethora of verbal associations that he uses to link texts together.
This imaginative method is well suited for him, as he concerns himself with
possibilities, secondary meanings, and hidden politics in the text. Statements
are framed by words such as imply, infer, resonate, allude, mirror, echo.
Hepners interest in the text is driven by implications over and above
its plain meaning (690), leading him to posit multiple meanings. Recently,
however, scholars have recognized a certain nuance within midrash, what one
might describe as a tension between the variety of interpretation, on one hand,
and a singleness of purpose, on the other. William Scott Green explains that
even the disjunctive Rabbinic interpretations (so-called davar aher) operate
within a limited conceptual sphere and a narrow thematic range . . . that
do not conflict but are mutually reinforcing. . . . Thus, rather than endless
multiple meanings . . . they in fact ascribe multiple variations of a single
meaning (The Hebrew Scriptures in Rabbinic Judaism, in Rabbinic Judaism:
Structure and System, Jacob Neusner and William Scott Green [Minneapolis:
Fortress, 1995], 39-41).
389
Book Reviews
At times the authors examples of anagrammatic verbal resonance seem to

move too quickly from semantics to hermeneutics to historical reconstruction
of the texts setting. For example, it is difficult to follow the transition from
word analysis to the conclusion that the Genesis narratives postdate Sinai
laws. It would be equally plausible to speak of the patriarchs as embodying
implicit principles of what later came to be revealed as the Sinaitic laws.
As for the question of covenants, Hepner holds that the Genesis stories
were created to prioritize the unconditional covenant of the patriarchs over
against the conditional terms of Sinai, in that the Genesis stories supported
the view that the conditional Sinai covenant, whose violation Leviticus 26
explains was the cause of the Babylonian exile, was transformed into the
unconditional patriarchal covenant(9). This sharp dichotomy tends to miss the
broad contours of both covenants; both contain conditional and unconditional
elements, albeit in different measure. In Lev 26:43-44, the sins of the people,
which conditioned them to exile, contrast with YHWHs promise of forgiveness
for those who confess and repent. Also in vv. 41-42, there remains an element
for potential transformation within the Sinaitic covenant itself.
By the same token, Jacobs deceiving of his father and brother sent him
into exile in Aram (404), even under the unconditional covenants of Genesis
(404). Conditional as well as unconditional elements in both covenants tend
to minimize the idea that only the unconditional covenant of the patriarchs
generated the necessary hope and encouragement for exiles to arise from the
ashes of their past, regain their confidence in God, and return to Jerusalem.
No short review could address the many facets of this encyclopedic
tome. Legal Friction is certainly the most comprehensive study on law and
narrative thus far written from an intertextual standpoint. This book will
stimulate further the debate over the relation of law and narrative.
The following errata should be noted:
Errata
Viejola (123)
Sarah (207)
linksbetween (226)
Abraham (247)
Moses (282)
Elazar (336)
Jacob (389)
Abimelech (427)
girl (501)
how (605)
Joseph
truncated printing (610)
Corrections
Veijola
Hagar
links between
Abimelech
Abraham
Eleazar
Joseph
Isaac
man
the repetition of the word
Moses (620)
Carlos A. Bechara
390
LeMon, Joel M., and Kent Harold Richards, eds. Method Matters: Essays on
the Interpretation of the Hebrew Bible in Honor of David L. Petersen. Atlanta:
Society of Biblical Literature, 2009. xix + 624 pp. Paper, $49.95.
In this festschrift dedicated to Daniel L. Petersen, scholars undertake a
thorough look at various methods to approach the Hebrew Bible, starting
with the classical historical-critical approaches and progressing to more recent
methods.
In a brief tribute to Petersens scholarship and teaching, S. Dean McBride
and James Luther Mays highlight the breadth of Petersens methodology.
In his interactions with many institutions and his own faith community,
he encourages students, laymen, and scholars to value the process of
interpretationin essence the methodology of the Scriptures.
Two distinctly different article types have been considered in this
tribute: a presentation style, in which a particular hermeneutical method is
introduced, and a taxonomical approach, in which methodological approaches
are grouped into families. Twenty-three methodological articles are included
that showcase a variety of hermeneutical approaches such as the traditional
historical-critical approach (form, source, redaction, and textual criticism),
comparative, iconographic, religiohistorical, historiographical, psychological,
anthropological, sociological, narrative, poetic, feminist, gender, ecological,
ethical, theological, homiletical, Latin American (liberation), midrash, and
postmodern literary approaches. The second set of articles reflects on
the taxonomical categories of historical-critical, social-scientific, literary,
ideological, postcritical, and reception criticism.
Thomas Rmer, Redaction Criticism: 1 Kings 8 and the Deuteronomists,
traces the history of redaction criticism from the early stages of the
documentary hypothesis to its current development. The quest for the original
text of the Hebrew Bible was the early driving force, and little attention was
given to the redactors approaches. By the mid-twentieth century, and largely
due to the work of Martin Noth and Willi Marxsen, this trend changed and the
redactors were now viewed as careful and educated individuals or communities
of thought. Subsequently, two schools of thought developed, subdividing the
redactors into two (following Frank Moore Cross) and three (the Gttingen
school) different redactors. These various redactors are labeled according
to the themes they cover in their redactions: the Deuteronomistic Historian
(DtrH), explaining the reasons for Israels fall; the Prophetic Deuteronomist
(DtrP), emphasizing the prophetic stories; and the Nomistic Deuteronomistic
(DtrN), detailing aspects of the law. Currently, scholarship is expanding this
methodology from the Pentateuch and the historic books to the wisdom
literature and the prophets. Next, Rmer highlights three literary indicators
of a redactors insertion: literary and historical dissonance, literary coherence,
and resumption (Wiederaufnahme).
Book Reviews
391
To illustrate these processes, Rmer turns to Solomons prayer at the

dedication of the temple in 1 Kings 8. Based on different themes he finds in
the corpus of the prayer, Rmer observes the work of three redactors: the
portryal in vv. 14-21 of Solomon as a worthy successor to David, originating
in the Josianic era; in vv. 22-40 and 46-56 of Solomon as the temple builder,
originating in the Babylonian exile; and in vv. 52-53 and 57-61 of Solomon
as the preacher of the Torah. Rmer concludes with the premise that the
redactors did not want to hide their work, but saw themselves as literary
craftsmen who interpreted, validated, or altered the material at hand. Since
they were just as instrumental in crafting the Hebrew Bible as the primary
author(s), they should, therefore, be treated with the same respect.
Rmers summary of redaction criticism is laudable. In a limited number
of pages he succinctly highlights the major landmarks in history, interpretation,
and case study. At the same time, however, brevity works against him. First,
the interested reader will want to have further endnotes for blanket statements,
especially those referring to the work of other scholars (scholars agree or
there is disagreement). Second, his critique of the redaction skeptic John
van Seters singularly rests on an attestation of redactionism in the Gilgamesh
epoch. Such evidence only proves the possibility of redactors in the Hebrew
Bible, rather than mandating them. A stronger argument, especially from the
Hebrew Bible would be more convincing. Third, brevity works against Rmer
in the sample passage. Here he presents only summary statements of his
findings. How these are evident in the text and preferable to other readings of
this passage is not divulged. As a result, his arguments appear simplistic and
even circular. Fourth, it is unclear how he fits into the dual or triple division
of redactors as outlined in his historical development. He divides the passage
into three redactors, but this division has no correlation to the Gttingen
school. In fact, he considers the nomistic influence (presumably DtrN) to
be the first strata and located in the Josianic era. This would contradict the
general assumption that DtrN is, instead, postexilic. Finally, he considers
the core of the story to consist only of 1Kgs 8:12-13, at best 8:1-13. As a
result, Solomons prayer is comprised entirely of redactions, which raises the
question, Why would redaction criticism be the preferred method over source
criticism? At what point does a redactor become a source?
Brent A. Strawn, Comparative Approaches: History, Theory, and the
Image of God, traces the beginning of the comparative approach to Mller
(1870), who was fueled by archeological discoveries. However, even early on,
the discipline encountered difficulties that are still prevalent today. On one
hand, the lack of understanding and appreciation between biblical scholars
and comparative scholars has alienated the two camps. On the other hand,
comparative scholars have easily fallen prey to a bias of overemphasizing either
similarity or dissimilarity. Additionally, the field of comparative approaches has
lent itself to gross misjudgments, and Strawn even shows how the approach
392
was influential to anti-Semitism among German theologians in the post-World

War I era. Attempting to develop a solid scientific foundation, Hallo and Smith
advocated a contextual approach, which included a fourfold differentiation
into ethnographic, encyclopedic, morphological, and evolutionary elements.
Much like Strawn, Smith warns of both an apologetic presupposition to
comparative approaches and a sole presupposition of similarity. Smith asserts
that there always needs to be an element of dissimilarity. Miner will go even a
step further. Objectivity can only be reached if the comparison is intercultural
and if the comparison includes not only two but three comparative elements.
Strawn appreciates this attempt, though he argues that in most cases this
triangulation approach is hardly possible.
With the historical and methodological background settled, Strawn takes
a fresh look at the concept of the imago Dei found in the Genesis account
of creation and the Mesopotamian, Egyptian, and Neo-Assyrian records.
In comparing the Neo-Assyrian annals with Genesis, Strawn demonstrates
that in both records gods bestow humans with authority over animals.
Dissimilarity can be established by observing how the authority manifests
itself. Neo-Assyrian kings employ the hunt as a sign of their superiority and
as a metaphor for the battlefield, and conversely enemies are equated with
butchered game. The language of Genesis could etymologically imply a
similar view, but contextually it becomes clear that humanitys authority over
the animal kingdom and the land is not based on violence but serving (mr)
and preserving (bd) (134). The imago Dei is, then, in some ways similar to the
Neo-Assyrian assertion, in that royal and authoritative language is employed;
but Genesis produces a picture of nonviolence (even vegetarianism) contrary
to the violence of the Neo-Assyrian royal imagery. Strawn, then, continues
to follow Miner in reinforcing this distinction on the basis of triangulation.
He examines iconography of the Assyrians and Neo-Assyrians, noting that
some of the icons go beyond the written records. A royal figure is depicted
as saving a helpless creature from a predator and thereby ruling on behalf of
those needing assistance. This nontextual data expands the view of the ANE
backdrop, though it is removed by several layers from a direct comparison.
Strawn presents a compelling and eloquent summary of comparative
methodology. His foremost achievement in this chapter is the balanced
approach he espouses in regard to similarity and dissimilarity. Additionally, he
does not shy from exposing tensions among advocates of this methodology
or from proposing a resolution. Most of the chapter is spent illustrating the
interpretative steps on the basis of Neo-Assyrian royal iconography and texts.
A substantial number of primary sources have been woven throughout the
article, which allows the reader to personally evaluate the documents.
At the outset of her chapter, Narrative Analaysis: Meaning, Context, and
Origins of Genesis, Yairah Amit argues that although narrative criticism is a
relatively new discipline, sages and Jewish commentaries have practiced it for
Book Reviews
393
ages. She then differentiates between a synchronic and diachronic approach

of narrative criticism, which should be more accurately defined respectively as
a final form approach, and a historical-critical approach. The synchronic
approach is for scholars who have a (to put it bluntly) . . . unfamiliarity with
the broad scope of redaction- and source-critical research (272). Amit then
addresses how a singular story with multiple redactions can still be treated as
a narrative unit. She argues that the editors all followed an editorial policy to
maintain the unity and meaning of the story.
Amit examines the Judah and Tamar story of Genesis 38 as a case study.
Based on explanatory phrases by the narrator, she argues that both Judah
and Tamar were justified in their behavior since they sought a greater good.
She proposes this interpretation as an embracing of intermarriage based on
the equality concepts of the Holiness Code. As a result of her study, she
concludes that the writers of the Holiness Code must have been members
of the tribe of Judah, who tried to strengthen their position among the tribes
over the Benjaminites during the Persian exile.
Amits chapter is an attempt to reevaluate Adlers famous treatment of
the passage and fit it into a diachronic view of the development of the
text. Unfortunately, the article leaves many important questions unanswered,
especially in regard to methodology:
First, she claims that only a diachronic approach, based on source
and redaction criticism is valid. However, these approaches stand in contrast
to the idea of a literary unit, since by definition redactors had distinctive
themes and theologies that are intended to be clearly identified (see Rmer
above). Amit tries to solve this contradiction with the blanket assertion that
despite the repeated editorial interventions and the various motivations of
the editors, the text became a unit by process of an editorial policy that gave
the work the appearance of consistency (272), which harmonizes with its
setting (280). This leap of faith is neither explained nor further elaborated.
Additionally, the question of what role narrative criticism is to play if it is only
second-tiered to source and redaction criticism remains unanswered.
Second, the ideal of following source or redaction criticism is not followed
up in the study of Genesis 38. For all practical purposes, Amit approaches the
text with the final form she so ardently fights against. The closest she gets
to a historical-critical approach is her disregard for the immediate context as
helpful for understanding the passage. Instead, she draws from 1 Samuel, Ruth,
Nehemiah, Leviticus, and Jeremiah as the contextual setting that sheds light on
the dynamics of the passage. The dissimilarities, for example, in narrative style,
content, and character are disregarded for the sake of her argument.
Third, methodologically Amit fails to inform and demonstrate to the reader
objective considerations to the narrative approach. With the exception of her
treatment of the narrator aside, the sample analysis of Genesis 38 becomes
394
a subjective rereading of the narrative rather than a study based on a set of

literary devices and techniques (e.g., hetero- versus homodiegetic elements,
diction rules, verbal threads, character perspectives, norms, and distance).
Fourth, Amit argues that the passage is based on a pro-law stance, as
showcased by the authors of the Holiness Code. In her single view, she forgets
to observe the general positive disposition of the Hexateuch toward sojourners,
as well as the dissimilarities between Genesis 38 and the Holiness code (e.g.,
sexual improprieties). The dissimilarities are larger than the similarities.
Fifth, Amits proposed reconstruction of the social agenda of two
dueling tribes in the Persian exile, which rely on the Holiness Code writers to
insert passages to sustain power, lacks larger support. Were the Holiness Code
authors politically rather than ethically or religiously motivated? How do the
authors of the Priestly Code and the tribe of Levites fare in this dispute?
Finally, Amit glosses over the historical background and, at times, employs
a polemical style toward her skeptics.
In conclusion, this festschrift excels in presenting a wide range of
different methodologies from the traditional to the recent. The layout of each
chapter is helpful and engaging as history and method, with an illustrative
example included. The readability appeals to scholars-in-the-making without
(for the most part) losing depth. Even the seasoned scholar will find a pool of
resources in this book. Inherently though, this presentation style focuses on the
idea of constructive diversity; but, at the same time, it leaves out contradictions
between the methodologies (e.g., repetition may be a sign of redactors or of
narrative emphasis). Additionally, no attempt is made to struggle with the
underlying philosophical presuppositions that each methodology is built upon.
The presentation is rather like a potpourri, in which all methods are treated as
equal partners with equal justification. While this pluralistic trend is a welcome
change to the exclusive methodological approach of previous decades, it
does beg further discussion of these philosophical presuppositionsthe
metanarrative, so to speak. While the scope of this book cannot cover all
of these concerns, it is the hope of the reviewer that such a follow-up will
be considered in the future. Additionally, a similar volume covering the NT
would be valuable. With consideration for its limitations, this book is a valuable
resource in any personal or public library, as well as a tool in the classroom.
Eike Mueller
Mack, Phyllis. Heart Religion in the British Enlightenment: Gender and Emotion in
Early Methodism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008. 301 pp.
Hardcover, $175.00.
Methodist historiographylike Seventh-day Adventist historiographyhas
long been dominated by men. In this groundbreaking work by Phyllis Mack,
394
a subjective rereading of the narrative rather than a study based on a set of

literary devices and techniques (e.g., hetero- versus homodiegetic elements,
diction rules, verbal threads, character perspectives, norms, and distance).
Fourth, Amit argues that the passage is based on a pro-law stance, as
showcased by the authors of the Holiness Code. In her single view, she forgets
to observe the general positive disposition of the Hexateuch toward sojourners,
as well as the dissimilarities between Genesis 38 and the Holiness code (e.g.,
sexual improprieties). The dissimilarities are larger than the similarities.
Fifth, Amits proposed reconstruction of the social agenda of two
dueling tribes in the Persian exile, which rely on the Holiness Code writers to
insert passages to sustain power, lacks larger support. Were the Holiness Code
authors politically rather than ethically or religiously motivated? How do the
authors of the Priestly Code and the tribe of Levites fare in this dispute?
Finally, Amit glosses over the historical background and, at times, employs
a polemical style toward her skeptics.
In conclusion, this festschrift excels in presenting a wide range of
different methodologies from the traditional to the recent. The layout of each
chapter is helpful and engaging as history and method, with an illustrative
example included. The readability appeals to scholars-in-the-making without
(for the most part) losing depth. Even the seasoned scholar will find a pool of
resources in this book. Inherently though, this presentation style focuses on the
idea of constructive diversity; but, at the same time, it leaves out contradictions
between the methodologies (e.g., repetition may be a sign of redactors or of
narrative emphasis). Additionally, no attempt is made to struggle with the
underlying philosophical presuppositions that each methodology is built upon.
The presentation is rather like a potpourri, in which all methods are treated as
equal partners with equal justification. While this pluralistic trend is a welcome
change to the exclusive methodological approach of previous decades, it
does beg further discussion of these philosophical presuppositionsthe
metanarrative, so to speak. While the scope of this book cannot cover all
of these concerns, it is the hope of the reviewer that such a follow-up will
be considered in the future. Additionally, a similar volume covering the NT
would be valuable. With consideration for its limitations, this book is a valuable
resource in any personal or public library, as well as a tool in the classroom.
Eike Mueller
Mack, Phyllis. Heart Religion in the British Enlightenment: Gender and Emotion in
Early Methodism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008. 301 pp.
Hardcover, $175.00.
Methodist historiographylike Seventh-day Adventist historiographyhas
long been dominated by men. In this groundbreaking work by Phyllis Mack,
Book Reviews
395
a historian at Rutgers University, we find a helpful model for Adventist

studies. The author challenges traditional, negative depictions of early
Methodism through an analysis of a vast array of primary sourcesprayers,
pamphlets, hymns, diaries, recipes, private letters, accounts of dreams, rules
of housekeepingmany of which had not been used before to study how
men and women understood the seismic shift from the religious culture of
the seventeenth century to the disenchantment that evolved from the
Enlightenment.
At the heart of this book is the idea that religion needs to be understood
from the perspective of the ordinary person: The Methodist renewal movement
was not about sex or social dislocation, but religion, she argues (7).
People who wept and shouted at the revival meeting did not embrace
religious enthusiasm in order to vent their emotional or sexual frustrations;
rather their frustrations . . . had moved them to ask questions about their
spiritual lives. Secular historians need an angle of vision that allows them
not only to accept these spiritual concerns as sincere and legitimate, but to
share, however imperfectly, the struggles of ordinary Methodists and lay
preachers, to stand with individual men and women as they worked to shape
their own subjectivity . . . over a lifetime (28).
Central to this thesis is the notion of agency, which is more than the
secular free exercise of self-willed behavior, but requires a more complex
definition to fit early Methodism. She suggests that these early Methodists
defined agency as the freedom to want and to do what is right (9). The
paradox of strength in weakness led to a reinforcement of Enlightenment
ideals and Protestant theology that both contradicted and reinforced one
another (cf. 12-15). Thus Methodists addressed agency through their emotions.
The attempt to understand and even control their emotions was, therefore,
part of the process of modernization (18).
Although Methodism was primarily a womens movement, Mack
argues that the historiography has largely ignored the thinking and behavior
of actual women (19). Emotion was no longer an external force, but an
innate feeling or sentiment emanating from within.
Chapters 1 and 2 introduce John and Charles Wesley and the people who
followed them as they sought to achieve a balance between passive submission
to God and activity in the world (29-82). Chapters 3, Men of Feeling,
and 4, Women in Love, discuss the emotional lives of male and female
preachers and leaders, especially the relationship between their experience
of human love and the development of their different spiritual vocabularies
(83-170). Chapter 5, Mary Fletcher on the Cross, details the central symbol
of Christ on the cross in relationship to popular perceptions of the body, and
the spiritual meaning of pain. In chapter 6, Mack discusses the question of
dreams and the supernatural and their relationship to the Methodists own
396
psychology and self-perception; and, in chapter 7, she discusses changes in

consciousness and practice as Methodism entered the new century.
This book is a valuable study for students within Adventist studies,
because it provides a new vignette and revisionist perspective to draw from
for understanding Methodism; which is one of the significant and formative
influences impacting the formation of the Seventh-day Adventist Church.
Perhaps what is most helpful is chapter 6 on the culture of dreaming. Many
of the pioneers of Adventism had dreams that they understood as having
spiritual significance. Wesley both affirmed the reality of supernatural events,
yet denied assurance as to their interpretation beyond the dreamers own
changed life; yet, dreams constituted an absolutely vital unifying discourse
(227). Such dreams personified heart religion through emotion and action,
with men and women viewing such dreams differently: male leaders viewed
dreams as a way to allay anxiety, while female leaders viewed their dreams as
visionary and telepathic, and as revelatory of their own inner natures (232).
When male leaders gained prominence as circuit preachers, they interpreted
fewer dreams, argues Mack, which she suggests reflects pressure to present
Methodism as a respectable movement (243). Thus the most significant aspect
of dreaming was the power of dreams to generate individual reflexivity and
to assist the religious seeker in shaping her own autobiography (257).
Mack offers a compelling read into the ordinary men and women who
embraced the Methodist project of self-transformation. In this journey,
individuals, and notably women, had an opportunity to shape their response
to life experiences. Methodist theology and discipline promoted a new selfawareness that earlier religious seekers could not have imagined (263).
Wichita, Kansas

Michael W. Campbell
Moore, Marvin. The Case for the Investigative Judgment: Its Biblical Foundation.
Nampa, ID: Pacific Press, 2010. Paper, $19.99.
Marvin Moore, Editor of Signs of the Times magazine, has written more than
thirty popular books on various religious subjects. His recent book, The Case
for the Investigative Judgment: Its Biblical Foundation, is considered by the author
to be the most complex writing project I have ever attempted (12). Moore
devoted more than two years to researching and writing the book, during which
time he digested the major monographs and doctoral dissertations written on
the subject by Adventist scholars. This book is the authors attempt to bridge
the gap between the scholar and the lay person and bring everything [on the
subject] together in one place (ibid.) so that readers can understand clearly
the sanctuary and investigative judgment (16).
The first section of the book (chaps. 2-4) gives an overview of the
biblical doctrine of the investigative judgment, shows its compatibility with
396
psychology and self-perception; and, in chapter 7, she discusses changes in

consciousness and practice as Methodism entered the new century.
This book is a valuable study for students within Adventist studies,
because it provides a new vignette and revisionist perspective to draw from
for understanding Methodism; which is one of the significant and formative
influences impacting the formation of the Seventh-day Adventist Church.
Perhaps what is most helpful is chapter 6 on the culture of dreaming. Many
of the pioneers of Adventism had dreams that they understood as having
spiritual significance. Wesley both affirmed the reality of supernatural events,
yet denied assurance as to their interpretation beyond the dreamers own
changed life; yet, dreams constituted an absolutely vital unifying discourse
(227). Such dreams personified heart religion through emotion and action,
with men and women viewing such dreams differently: male leaders viewed
dreams as a way to allay anxiety, while female leaders viewed their dreams as
visionary and telepathic, and as revelatory of their own inner natures (232).
When male leaders gained prominence as circuit preachers, they interpreted
fewer dreams, argues Mack, which she suggests reflects pressure to present
Methodism as a respectable movement (243). Thus the most significant aspect
of dreaming was the power of dreams to generate individual reflexivity and
to assist the religious seeker in shaping her own autobiography (257).
Mack offers a compelling read into the ordinary men and women who
embraced the Methodist project of self-transformation. In this journey,
individuals, and notably women, had an opportunity to shape their response
to life experiences. Methodist theology and discipline promoted a new selfawareness that earlier religious seekers could not have imagined (263).
Wichita, Kansas

Michael W. Campbell
Moore, Marvin. The Case for the Investigative Judgment: Its Biblical Foundation.
Nampa, ID: Pacific Press, 2010. Paper, $19.99.
Marvin Moore, Editor of Signs of the Times magazine, has written more than
thirty popular books on various religious subjects. His recent book, The Case
for the Investigative Judgment: Its Biblical Foundation, is considered by the author
to be the most complex writing project I have ever attempted (12). Moore
devoted more than two years to researching and writing the book, during which
time he digested the major monographs and doctoral dissertations written on
the subject by Adventist scholars. This book is the authors attempt to bridge
the gap between the scholar and the lay person and bring everything [on the
subject] together in one place (ibid.) so that readers can understand clearly
the sanctuary and investigative judgment (16).
The first section of the book (chaps. 2-4) gives an overview of the
biblical doctrine of the investigative judgment, shows its compatibility with
Book Reviews
397
righteousness by faith, and notes its contribution to the overarching Great

Controversy theme in Scripture. A second section (chaps. 5-7) surveys the
history of the development of the investigative-judgment doctrine from its
Millerite roots to its present-day understanding, while acknowledging a growth
in understanding of the topic and including a review of notable critics of this
foundational doctrine and Adventist responses to such criticism.
The succeeding sections of the book explore issues in Daniel 7 (chaps.
8-11), Daniel 8 (chaps. 12-17), the investigative judgment and the sanctuary
(chaps. 18-22), issues in Daniel 9 (chaps. 23-27), and issues in Hebrews (chaps.
28-33). Moore then provides some concluding thoughts regarding Ellen White
and the investigative judgment, gives a synthesis of the doctrine, and suggests
ways in which the investigative judgment is relevant for today (chaps. 34-36).
An epilogue presents Moores personal conviction after his thorough review
of the biblical evidence: the basic framework of our historic teaching about
the investigative judgment truly is biblicaland it makes sense (346).
Moore is to be commended for wading through scores of scholarly studies
on the subject of the investigative judgment, synthesizing the material, and
making it understandable to the average educated layperson. His summaries
of the biblical arguments of various Adventist scholars are generally accurate
and clearly presented. He has been especially helpful in clarifying how the
investigative judgment is not in contradiction with righteousness by faith and
does not rob the believer of the assurance of salvation. Although recognizing
our accountability in the judgment and the need for Gods people to be
loyalto commit to obey Him and to try to obey Him (30), he makes clear
that In the judgment, the standing of those who are saved will always be
based upon their being covered with Christs righteousness, never upon their
own success in obeying Gods laws (33).
Moore also makes a special contribution by emphasizing the role of
Satan as the Accuser of the brethren in the judgment and by highlighting
issues of theodicy (the justification of God). He shows how the investigative
judgment is not for the sake of informing God (who already knows who
are his), but to reveal to the unfallen heavenly intelligences the truth about
his people, vindicating them (and thus himself) against the charges of Satan.
The reason why those who have accepted Jesus as their Savior need have no
fear of the judgment is that Jesus, their Mediator, is responding to every one
of Satans accusations against them (46). In the investigative judgment, God
is shown to be fair, reasonable, just, and on the side of his people!
The average (motivated) reader should be able to clearly follow the various
exegetical steps taken by Moore as he works his way through the issues in
Daniel 79, which are seen in light of the sanctuary services described in the
Pentateuch. More advanced students of Scripture will also benefit by seeing
the various pieces of the sanctuary puzzle brought together to form the
complete picture. Moore marshals powerful biblical evidence to support the
398
various interlocking parts of the investigative-judgment doctrine, including

points such as the basic hermeneutical principles of historicism and the yearday principle; the reference to Rome (pagan and papal) in the little horn of
Daniel 8, and not Antiochus Epiphanes; the general pre-Advent timing of the
investigative judgment, according to Daniel 7; the specific timing for the end
of the 2300-day prophecy and commencement of the investigative judgment
(22 October 1844), according to Dan 8:14 (utilizing the same starting date for
the seventy-weeks prophecy of Dan 9:24-27); the identity of the sanctuary
as the heavenly sanctuary in Daniel 8; and the polyvalent meaning of the
cleansing of the sanctuary, which includes especially the vindicating of the
saints against the false charges of Satan.
Moore also provides popular access to new exegetical data that have been
forthcoming in Adventist scholarship in the last few years regarding the book
of Hebrews. Most Christian scholars dealing with Hebrews claim that the
various entrance passages in Hebrews (e.g., 6:19- 20; 9:12; 10:19-20) refer to
Christs entering into the heavenly Most Holy Place to engage in his antitypical
Day of Atonement work. If this interpretation is correctthat Christ, already
in the first century, started the antitypical Day of Atonement, then there is
little or no room for the Adventist understanding of the antitypical Day of
Atonement beginning on 22 October 1844. Moore responds to this problem
by synthesizing the work of several Adventist scholars, showing that, according
to Hebrews, Christ entered the heavenly sanctuary at his ascension to inaugurate
its services, not to begin his Day of Atonement work. The book of Hebrews
presents Christs work of investigative judgment of Gods professed people
as still future from the perspective of the first century, in harmony with the
typology of Leviticus and the prophecies of Daniel and Revelation.
There are a couple of additional pieces of the investigative-judgment
puzzle that I wish Moore had been able to include in his study. One is
the striking evidence throughout Scripture of Gods regular procedure of
conducting an investigative judgment (legal trial proceedings, often termed by
scholars as a covenant lawsuit), starting already in Eden (Genesis 3) and evident
before Gods executive judgment at the flood (Genesis 6), the Tower of Babel
(Genesis 11), and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 19).
There are actually more than two hundred examples of a divine investigative
judgment in Scripture, and most of the time the result of the judgment brings
vindication of Gods people! If God regularly conducts an investigative
judgment before his executive judgment; if he regularly opens the books, as
it were, to show that he has done all he can to save all that he can, and that
his people stand vindicated against the accusations of their enemythen it
should not be at all surprising to find a final investigative judgment at the end
of history to vindicate Gods people against Satans accusations.
Another piece of the puzzle that I miss in Moores study is the evidence
showing that the investigative judgment is only one part of a multiphase
Book Reviews
399
theology of judgment in Scripture. An important study by Ji Moskala has

shown that there are actually seven phases of divine judgment in salvation
history, each rooted in the judgment at the cross, and each having a different
purpose in revealing the truth about God and his people to a different
audience! (Toward a Biblical Theology of Gods Judgment: A Celebration of
the Cross in Seven Phases of Divine Universal Judgment: An Overview of a
Theocentric-Christocentric Approach, JATS 15/1 [2004]: 138-165). Moores
discussion does uphold the cross and the gospel in presenting the investigative
judgment, but it could have been strengthened by pointing to this sevenfold
cross-centered development of the theology of judgment in Scripture.
Some of the interpretations included in Moores book are his own
suggestions of how to reconcile difficult biblical data. For example, the book
of Hebrews, on one hand, presents Christ as sitting at the right hand of
Majesty/God (Heb 1:3, 13; 8:1; 10:12; 12:2), presumably on his throne in the
Most Holy Place, while at the same time Christ intercedes in the Holy Place
(Heb 7:25). Furthermore, Dan 7:9-10 implies that both the Father and the Son
move to a new location for the commencement of the investigative judgment.
Moore attempts to reconcile these seemingly contradictory portrayals by
suggesting that (1) the heavenly sanctuary is not divided by a veil into two
compartments (Holy Place and Most Holy Place), but rather is comprised of
a single throne room; and (2) this heavenly throne room has two parts. Each
one can be considered heavens Holy Place, and each can also be considered
heavens Most Holy Place (282). Moore acknowledges the tentativeness of
his proposal, asking: Is this what heaven is really like? I dont know; its just
a suggestion (ibid.). An intriguing suggestion! But Im not sure all will be
convinced of its cogency (I am not . . . yet!). I agree with Moore that its a
mistake for us to argue overly much about heavenly architecture (282). At
the same time, I think we also agree that, in opposition to the view of much
of the Christian world that still accepts the Platonic notion of a God who
has no form and does not dwell in space and time, the Bible insists upon the
spatiotemporal reality of the heavenly sanctuary.
Despite the few additional points that I might wish to be included in
this book, and the few areas where arguments might have been stated more
precisely (from a scholarly point of view), overall I believe this book has
immense potential for dispelling doubts and questions about the Adventist
doctrine of the investigative judgment. I consider this book the best synthesis
of the major biblical arguments in favor of the investigative judgment, and
highly recommend it to scholars and laypersons alike, both to those who are
Seventh-day Adventists and to those of other Christian traditions who wish
to read an evenhanded treatment of this foundational, distinctive doctrine of
the Seventh-day Adventist Church.
Andrews University
Richard M. Davidson
400
Muraoka, T. A Greek-Hebrew/Aramaic Two-way Index to the Septuagint. Louvain:

Peeters, 2010. xi + 383 pp. Hardcover, $87.00.
Takamitsu Muraoka is a mainstay in lexicography, Semitic languages, and
indices, beginning with his Greek-Hebrew/Aramaic index to 1 Esdras
(Scholars, 1984), and his Emphatic Words and Structures in Biblical Hebrew (Brill,
1985). He also revised Joons Grammar of Biblical Hebrew (Pontifical Biblical
Institute, 2009), and Portens A Grammar of Egyptian Aramaic (Brill, 2004). He
has edited and coedited volumes on the Hebrew of the DSS and Ben Sira
(Brill, 1997, 2000) and another including those documents and the Mishnah
(Brill, 1999). He has also edited studies in Qumran Aramaic (Peeters, 1992)
and Ancient Hebrew semantics (Peeters, 1995, 1998). Add to this a grammar
of Modern Hebrew for Biblical Scholars (Harrasowitz, 1998), a Classical Syriac for
Hebraists (Harrasowitz, 1987), and his Classical Syriac: A Basic Grammar with a
Chrestomathy (Harrasowitz, 2005). Finally, Muraoka has worked extensively in
Septuagint lexicography, with his initial Greek-English Lexicon of the Septuagint
(Twelve Prophets) (Peeters, 1993), his subsequent Greek-English Lexicon of the
Septuagint: Chiefly of the Pentateuch and the Twelve Prophets (Peeters, 2003; reviewed
in AUSS 45 [2007]: 277-278) and the now complete A Greek-English Lexicon
of the Septuagint (Peeters, 2009; reviewed in AUSS 48 [2010]: 347-348).
The present volume supplements both Muraokas 2009 lexicon and his
Hebrew/Aramaic Index to the Septuagint: Keyed to the Hatch-Redpath Concordance
(Baker, 1998), for which Muraoka prepared a prior version of a two-way index.
In truth, it is a supplement to the former and an updated replacement of the
latter. The book contains a general introduction (vii-viii), abbreviations (ix-x),
and bibliography (xi). Part 1 provides the Greek word(s) of the Septuagint
alongside the corresponding Hebrew/Aramaic word(s) and the frequency
of that correlation in brackets. Much of this corresponds to the successive
collection of data accrued in the authors 1993 and 2002 lexicons. It has been
removed from the most recent and complete lexicon (2009), with all the data
supplied in the present volume instead.
Part 2 begins with its own introduction, which, while updating the
introduction to the 1998 index, provides an explanation of the method
and symbols used. Each entry lists the Hebrew word first. If it is a verb,
Muraoka lists the conjugation of the form presented. If it is an Aramaic
term, it is so designated. The Hebrew term (e.g., bre)e, 153) is accompanied by
the corresponding Greek terms and a reference to its location in Hatch and
Redpath (e.g., evnedreu,ein, 472a; ske,ph, 1269a).
Of course, one must be cautious in using such a volume, for it presumes
that the MT indexed here serves as the Vorlage for the Greek renderings. One
does well to consider the words as corresponding prior to making judgments
about translational equivalency. This caution aside, Muraokas two-way index
is an essential tool. It is thoroughly updated, based on extensive, critical review
401
Book Reviews
of Hatch and Redpath, but does not require ready access to that bulky work,
as did the 1998 edition. Moreover, there is new data supplied here, including
some references to the so-called apocrypha, Qumran manuscripts, and various
recensions of the Greek OT/LXX. As a companion to Hatch and Redpath and
Muraokas 2009 lexicon, this is an indispensible tool not only for septuagintal
studies, but for anyone engaged in critical research in the OT or NT.
Bethel Seminary
St. Paul, Minnesota
Daniel M. Gurtner
Niehaus, Jeffrey J. Ancient Near Eastern Themes in Biblical Theology. Grand Rapids:
Kregal, 2008. 203 pp. Paper, $18.99.
Many scholars have written on the ancient Near Eastern background of
Scripture, but not all have focused on how the ancient worldviews have shaped
biblical theology. Even fewer have traced its influence on the NT. Jeffrey
Jay Niehaus, a Professor of Old Testament at Gordon-Conwell Theological
Seminary, explores possible ancient Near Eastern influences in a number
of major biblical themes, including concepts such as the royal shepherd,
covenant and conquest, city and temple, and the eventual restoration of
all things. He regards these themes as an integration into a specific schema
outlining how God operates in the worlda schema that was widely known
and understandable to the ancient world. He proposes that
The basic structure of ideas is this: A god works through a man (a royal
or prophetic figure, often styled a shepherd) to wage war against the
gods enemies and thereby advance his kingdom. The royal or prophetic
protagonist is in a covenant with the god, as are the gods people. The god
establishes a temple among his people, either before or after the warfare,
because he wants to dwell among them. This can mean the founding (or
choice) of a city, as well as a temple location. The ultimate purpose is to
bring into the gods kingdom those who were not part of it (30).
He then provides a simple outline to illustrate this process:

god
king/prophet
warfare
covenant
city/temple
401
Book Reviews
of Hatch and Redpath, but does not require ready access to that bulky work,
as did the 1998 edition. Moreover, there is new data supplied here, including
some references to the so-called apocrypha, Qumran manuscripts, and various
recensions of the Greek OT/LXX. As a companion to Hatch and Redpath and
Muraokas 2009 lexicon, this is an indispensible tool not only for septuagintal
studies, but for anyone engaged in critical research in the OT or NT.
Bethel Seminary
St. Paul, Minnesota
Daniel M. Gurtner
Niehaus, Jeffrey J. Ancient Near Eastern Themes in Biblical Theology. Grand Rapids:
Kregal, 2008. 203 pp. Paper, $18.99.
Many scholars have written on the ancient Near Eastern background of
Scripture, but not all have focused on how the ancient worldviews have shaped
biblical theology. Even fewer have traced its influence on the NT. Jeffrey
Jay Niehaus, a Professor of Old Testament at Gordon-Conwell Theological
Seminary, explores possible ancient Near Eastern influences in a number
of major biblical themes, including concepts such as the royal shepherd,
covenant and conquest, city and temple, and the eventual restoration of
all things. He regards these themes as an integration into a specific schema
outlining how God operates in the worlda schema that was widely known
and understandable to the ancient world. He proposes that
The basic structure of ideas is this: A god works through a man (a royal
or prophetic figure, often styled a shepherd) to wage war against the
gods enemies and thereby advance his kingdom. The royal or prophetic
protagonist is in a covenant with the god, as are the gods people. The god
establishes a temple among his people, either before or after the warfare,
because he wants to dwell among them. This can mean the founding (or
choice) of a city, as well as a temple location. The ultimate purpose is to
bring into the gods kingdom those who were not part of it (30).
He then provides a simple outline to illustrate this process:

god
king/prophet
warfare
covenant
city/temple
402
Niehaus first examines these overarching themes in their Egyptian and

various Mesopotamian contexts, providing extensive background material.
Then he explores how a similar process is developed and handled in the
Bible. He sees each of these themes as finally realized in Jesus, who becomes
humanitys shepherd, wages spiritual warfare, conquers, fulfills the covenant,
and dwells in the church, his city/temple.
Not only does this give the modern interpreter clues as to how the
biblical writers and their audiences might have understood such concepts, but
it might also give the modern reader hints as to how they should apply the
biblical version of such themes to the contemporary situation. For example,
a recent controversy among some evangelicals is how to understand certain
NT statements that seem to imply that Jesus placed himself subordinate to
God the Father (see, e.g., Millard J. Erickson, Whos Tampering with the Trinity?
An Assessment of the Subordination Debate [Grand Rapids, Kregal, 2009]). After
describing how ancient Egyptian pharaohs, as sons of the god Amon,
would present a newly won kingdom to their father deity, Niehaus points to
a Christological parallel in 1 Cor 15:24-25 in which Jesus offers his kingdom
to his Father (69; for further expansion of the concept, see pp. 62-82). It
would be interesting to explore what implications this ancient theme might
have for interpreting the Jesus-subordinationist texts.
Niehaus shows the strong parallels between the ancient Near Eastern
understanding of how the gods functioned and how the God of Israel
operated. But how should we view them? Did ancient Israel just build upon
the surrounding worldview? While he does not elaborate, Niehaus does not
regard the biblical writers to be a mere reflection of the surrounding cultures.
Rather, he sees the parallels between ancient Near Eastern pagan theology and
biblical theology as a contrast between a distorted and counterfeit theology
that he suggests was promulgated by the demonic influences discussed by
the apostle Paul and a divinely inspired theology that God revealed through
his prophets and the biblical writers (179). He believes God allows such
theological parallels as we have explored to become manifest over many
centuries in the ancient world so that truth would appear, even in darkened and
polytheistic forms. Truth in such forms could have no saving power, but it did
prepare a matrix of thought, a background of theological understanding, so
that when God truly appeared and did such things as the pagans had claimed
for their godsinstituting covenants, giving laws, commanding conquest and
extending his kingdom, even by signs and wondershis revelation would
come to a people who had some theological preparation for it (181).
Whether or not one accepts Niehauss conclusion, his work on these
ancient themes, when balanced with how Scripture itself employs them,
should help illuminate additional depths of the biblical text. To cite just
one instance, after presenting the imagery of Assyrian monarchs as mighty
hunters, especially of lions, he points out how David employs the same royal
Book Reviews
403
typology, thus indicating that he is also of royal lineage (48-50), then traces
the imagerys Christological use. Davids explanation of why he was qualified
to face Goliath was far more than a recounting of some dramatic incidents in
his shepherding experience.
One major theme that Niehaus does not deal with is that of creation. It
would be interesting to see how he would apply his model, especially to the
Christological aspects of creation.
Hagerstown, Maryland
Gerald Wheeler
Peterson, Eugene H. Practice Resurrection: A Conversation on Growing Up in Christ.

Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010. 302 pp. Hardcover, $24.00.
Practice Resurrection is the fifth book in Eugene H. Petersons five-volume series
on spiritual theology, a capstone accomplishment in his writing vocation.
Among contemporary writers on spirituality, Peterson towers high with his
insistent focus on the work of the Triune God. His books are an antidote
to spirituality books that focus primarily on detailed instructions on how to
seek God.
Petersons stature as a major writer on Christian spirituality has grown
out of his twenty-nine years as Pastor of the Christ Our King Presbyterian
Church in Bel Air, Maryland, his fifteen years as Professor of Spiritual
Theology at Regent College in Vancouver, British Columbia, and the more
than thirty books he has written on the Christian life. He is best known as the
translator of The Message, a popular paraphrase of the Bible.
Practice Resurrection is based on Ephesians. His many years of teaching
the book of Ephesians in the church and college settings have added to
his understanding and equipped him to write this new book. The strange
title, Practice Resurrection, brings to mind the common expression practice
the spiritual disciplines. However, it is unlikely that Peterson intends that
connection. This book, like his other books on spirituality, emphasizes Gods
work, not ours. Far be it from Peterson to focus on human activity; his theme
is always on the activity and grace of God.
The phrase practice resurrection comes from the poet Wendell Berry,
and Peterson understands it to mean to grow up in Christ (70). When we
practice resurrection, we keep company with Jesus, alive and present, who
knows where we are going better than we do, which is always from glory to
glory (8). Sooner or later anyone serious about growing up in Christ will
have to confront and be confronted by the church, a reality that leads him
to Ephesians. Petersons reflection on Ephesians and the church, however,
is not a sales pitch, enticing the reader with visions of what the church can
do for him or what she can do for the church. He rejects the church as a
humanly managed popular provider of religious goods and services (28).
Book Reviews
403
typology, thus indicating that he is also of royal lineage (48-50), then traces
the imagerys Christological use. Davids explanation of why he was qualified
to face Goliath was far more than a recounting of some dramatic incidents in
his shepherding experience.
One major theme that Niehaus does not deal with is that of creation. It
would be interesting to see how he would apply his model, especially to the
Christological aspects of creation.
Hagerstown, Maryland
Gerald Wheeler
Peterson, Eugene H. Practice Resurrection: A Conversation on Growing Up in Christ.

Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010. 302 pp. Hardcover, $24.00.
Practice Resurrection is the fifth book in Eugene H. Petersons five-volume series
on spiritual theology, a capstone accomplishment in his writing vocation.
Among contemporary writers on spirituality, Peterson towers high with his
insistent focus on the work of the Triune God. His books are an antidote
to spirituality books that focus primarily on detailed instructions on how to
seek God.
Petersons stature as a major writer on Christian spirituality has grown
out of his twenty-nine years as Pastor of the Christ Our King Presbyterian
Church in Bel Air, Maryland, his fifteen years as Professor of Spiritual
Theology at Regent College in Vancouver, British Columbia, and the more
than thirty books he has written on the Christian life. He is best known as the
translator of The Message, a popular paraphrase of the Bible.
Practice Resurrection is based on Ephesians. His many years of teaching
the book of Ephesians in the church and college settings have added to
his understanding and equipped him to write this new book. The strange
title, Practice Resurrection, brings to mind the common expression practice
the spiritual disciplines. However, it is unlikely that Peterson intends that
connection. This book, like his other books on spirituality, emphasizes Gods
work, not ours. Far be it from Peterson to focus on human activity; his theme
is always on the activity and grace of God.
The phrase practice resurrection comes from the poet Wendell Berry,
and Peterson understands it to mean to grow up in Christ (70). When we
practice resurrection, we keep company with Jesus, alive and present, who
knows where we are going better than we do, which is always from glory to
glory (8). Sooner or later anyone serious about growing up in Christ will
have to confront and be confronted by the church, a reality that leads him
to Ephesians. Petersons reflection on Ephesians and the church, however,
is not a sales pitch, enticing the reader with visions of what the church can
do for him or what she can do for the church. He rejects the church as a
humanly managed popular provider of religious goods and services (28).
404
His long pastoral experience showed him the messiness of congregations

the bickering, the sinning, the brokenness. Instead, he sees the church as a
congregation of embarrassingly ordinary people in and through whom God
chooses to be present to the world (28).
Why should we embrace the church? The short answer is, Peterson
says, because the Holy Spirit formed it to be a colony of heaven in the
country of death (12). To him, the church is a miracle conceived by the Holy
Spirit on Pentecost.
Ephesians does not address liturgy, mission, and polity (14). Instead
it is a revelation of the church we never see. It shows us the healthy soil
and root system of all the operations of the Trinity out of which the church
that we do see grows (14, emphasis original). Ephesians reveals the essence
that is behind the appearances: Gods will, Christs presence, the Holy Spirits
work (15). This placement of all action on God rather than on human beings
is quintessential Peterson.
Peterson builds his exegesis of Pauls notoriously complicated opening
in Eph 1:3-14 by organizing it around seven verbs describing Gods action:
God blessed, chose, destined, bestowed, lavished, made known, and will
gather up. God starts everything. Everything (67). We thus live in a world
characterized by the grace of God (93).
What, then, is the human role in growth? Peterson coined the term
acquired passivity to explain. It is not what we do; it is what we participate
in. But we cannot participate apart from a willed passivity, entering into and
giving ourselves up to what is previous to us, the presence and action of God
in Christ that is other than us. Such passivity does not come easy to us. It must
be acquired (95).
Acquired passivity does not reject the work of the individual, but rather
requires a nuanced understanding in which all human work is preceded by
Gods work. Peterson points out that Paul links grace and works in Eph 2:810: It is by grace you have been saved . . . we are Gods workmanship, created
in Christ Jesus to do good works. He illustrates this point by reviewing the
days of creation, noting that Gods work on each day is a sheer gift to
humans (101). His acquired passivity appears to be a way of living that is
centered on God. When we live with the recognition that God has provided
our new life in Christ, we participate with him in all of our work. Thus he
rejects self-created spirituality, made by people who go off by themselves
and develop a Rube Goldberg religious contraption out of God-fragments or
God-rumors picked up in back alleys, flea markets, and talk shows. Nor does
he think much of people who set themselves up as freelance connoisseurs
of transcendence, searching out experiences of ecstasy, taking photographs
of sunsets, collecting books and music that inspire (168).
In Practice Resurrection, while Peterson works his way through Ephesians
chapter by chapter, he looks at only a few verses in each chapter. He needs only
Book Reviews
405
one key text to write pages of conversational prose, illustrating outstanding

ideas with common observations and juxtaposing refined wording with a few
favorite idioms such as get in on it, will have none of it, and get used to
it. Every few pages he offers a sentence that is so well crafted in thought and
style that the reader feels compelled to mark it or save it in some way.
Petersons artistry with the English language has most likely grown out
of his wide reading in literary classics. For example, he once spent six hours a
week for seven months reading the corpus of Dostoevsky, pursuing some of
it more than once. He quotes novelists and poets more often than theologians.
This is not to suggest that human writers take precedence over Scripture.
Peterson knows Scripture, even in its original languages. He simply bypasses
the language of theologians (cf. Under the Unpredictable Plant: An Exploration in
Vocational Holiness [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1992], 49). In Eat This Book: A
Conversation in the Art of Spiritual Reading [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006], 165)
he writes: when a zeal for Holy Scripture and a zeal for common language
collide, sparks fly. Indeed, the sparks fly in Practice Resurrection.
Andrews University
Jane Thayer
Thuesen, Peter J. Predestination: The American Career of a Contentious Doctrine.

New York: Oxford University Press, 2009. 288 pp. Hardcover, $29.95.
The notion of predestinationthe idea that God foreordains ones eternal
destinyis one of the most controversial doctrines in the history of
Christianity. This helpful overview, written by Peter Thuesen, a Professor
of Religious Studies at Indiana UniversityPurdue University Indianapolis,
examines the presuppositions behind the controversy.
Thuesen begins by proposing that A strict doctrine of absolute
predestination can make Gods sovereign will seem as arbitrary and cruel as
a tornado. . . . Yet for those who find assurance that God has foreordained
them to heavenly bliss, absolute predestination can be the sweetest of all
doctrines. As a consequence, predestination elicits strong reaction (3).
Thuesen breaks new ground on this topic by arguing that there has never
been a reigning orthodoxy in American religion. Most of the literature on
predestination is Protestant or confessional, at best. He thus seeks to break
new ground by contextualizing it within American religious thought.
American religious debate demonstrates the deep influence of Augustinian
anthropology. Few Christians have denied predestination outright, but frame
it in terms of whether God elects people conditionally or unconditionally.
Thus predestination is a part of a package of issues, including matters of
the existence of a literal hell, the authority of the Bible, and the extent of
Gods providential involvement, that serve as the proverbial elephant in the
living room of American denominationalism (6). Instead of framing the
Book Reviews
405
one key text to write pages of conversational prose, illustrating outstanding

ideas with common observations and juxtaposing refined wording with a few
favorite idioms such as get in on it, will have none of it, and get used to
it. Every few pages he offers a sentence that is so well crafted in thought and
style that the reader feels compelled to mark it or save it in some way.
Petersons artistry with the English language has most likely grown out
of his wide reading in literary classics. For example, he once spent six hours a
week for seven months reading the corpus of Dostoevsky, pursuing some of
it more than once. He quotes novelists and poets more often than theologians.
This is not to suggest that human writers take precedence over Scripture.
Peterson knows Scripture, even in its original languages. He simply bypasses
the language of theologians (cf. Under the Unpredictable Plant: An Exploration in
Vocational Holiness [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1992], 49). In Eat This Book: A
Conversation in the Art of Spiritual Reading [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006], 165)
he writes: when a zeal for Holy Scripture and a zeal for common language
collide, sparks fly. Indeed, the sparks fly in Practice Resurrection.
Andrews University
Jane Thayer
Thuesen, Peter J. Predestination: The American Career of a Contentious Doctrine.

New York: Oxford University Press, 2009. 288 pp. Hardcover, $29.95.
The notion of predestinationthe idea that God foreordains ones eternal
destinyis one of the most controversial doctrines in the history of
Christianity. This helpful overview, written by Peter Thuesen, a Professor
of Religious Studies at Indiana UniversityPurdue University Indianapolis,
examines the presuppositions behind the controversy.
Thuesen begins by proposing that A strict doctrine of absolute
predestination can make Gods sovereign will seem as arbitrary and cruel as
a tornado. . . . Yet for those who find assurance that God has foreordained
them to heavenly bliss, absolute predestination can be the sweetest of all
doctrines. As a consequence, predestination elicits strong reaction (3).
Thuesen breaks new ground on this topic by arguing that there has never
been a reigning orthodoxy in American religion. Most of the literature on
predestination is Protestant or confessional, at best. He thus seeks to break
new ground by contextualizing it within American religious thought.
American religious debate demonstrates the deep influence of Augustinian
anthropology. Few Christians have denied predestination outright, but frame
it in terms of whether God elects people conditionally or unconditionally.
Thus predestination is a part of a package of issues, including matters of
the existence of a literal hell, the authority of the Bible, and the extent of
Gods providential involvement, that serve as the proverbial elephant in the
living room of American denominationalism (6). Instead of framing the
406
debate in terms of predestination and free will, Thuesen suggests structuring

dialogue on predestinarianism and sacramentalism, two pieties that form
polar extremes.
Predestination: The American Career of a Contentious Doctrine is divided into
six chapters. Chapter 1 sets the historical stage of the American debates: The
Protestant reformers reassertation of Augustines strong predestinarianism in
the sixteenth century was in large measure a reaction to the perceived abuses
of the medieval sacramentalism system. Protestants developed sophisticated
delineations between Calvinism and Arminianism that require technical
distinctions (the author provides a helpful Glossary of Theological Terms
at the end of the book). In chapter 2, he argues that Puritans were dissidents
who comprised a persistent sacramental strain; thus predestination was
not an exclusively Protestant doctrine (74). Additionally, the sacramentalpredestinarian tension extended across the Protestant-Catholic divide.
Thuesen argues for a Puritan discipline he describes as ecstatic agony,
which he defines as the constructive pain of ongoing struggle. The goal
was to experience the exhilarating rush of victory (69).
Chapter 3 gives an overview of Arminianism and other challenges to
absolute predestination in eighteenth-century America. Thuesen places
much of the early opposition to the old Puritan synthesis on Anglican
missionaries, especially some like John Wesley, who were highly motivated
by high-church sacramentalism. The resultant debates created a permanent
rift within American evangelicalism, which were further exacerbated during
the American Revolution (100-135). The white American male became the
master of his own destiny, thereby prompting a variety of upstart groups,
including Methodists, Campbellites, Stoneites, Mormons, and Adventists.
Old-style European confessionalism did not disappear either. Chapter 5
highlights its revival by immigrant Catholics and Lutherans. These seemingly
strange bedfellows shared a history of internal strife over predestination and
a robust sacramentalism that set them apart, which led to polemics between
Catholics and Protestants over purgatory and led up to a spectacular
predestinarian controversy in the 1880s that continues to affect Lutheran
synodical alignments. Chapter 6 brings the debate back to Puritan roots:
Presbyterians and Baptists, who continued during the twentieth century to
debate predestination.
In the epilogue, Theusen considers the otherthe Protestant
megachurch, which might lead one to believe that the demise of dogma is
complete, especially as contentious a dogma as predestination. Yet in his
personal journey toward Rick Warren and the Saddleback Church community,
he finds that they continue to dance around predestination even if they
dont use the term. The Augustinian anthropology, in general, continues to
pervade American religion. Many people would rather believe that a wise
Book Reviews
407
God predetermines everythingeven unpleasant thingsthan contemplate

the alternative (12, 214-216).
This intellectual history probes more than an academic problem by
highlighting a basic question that haunts the human psyche: Where do we
go when we die? Thuesen describes the heart of an answer as something
mystical (13, 218). Yet mystery, he argues, has been eroded in two ways. Both
the weakened hold of sacramental mystery over the Christian imagination and
the predestinarian controversies have contributed to the decline of dogmatic
mystery. As a result, the sense of the miraculous, which predestinarians
sought to preserve, has been removed.
For those readers already familiar with Thuesens previous work, In
Discordance with the Scriptures: American Protestant Battles Over Translating the Bible
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), the reader will not be disappointed
with this new work. Well documented and articulate, Thuesens contribution
challenges both Protestants and Catholics to recognize the lens through
which each views the otherworldly and to return to the mysterium tremendum et
fascinansa mystery before which one trembles and is fascinated.
Seventh-day Adventist scholars in particular would do well to become
familiar with this broad overview and contextualization of predestination.
Thuesen furthermore highlights Adventist ambiguity over this issue (122124): William Miller was a Baconian interpreter who believed in an essentially
Arminian election based on divine foreknowledge. Later Ellen White pushed
the reincarnated Adventist movement toward a Wesleyan view of freewill,
although, surprisingly for Thuesen, the question of divine indeterminacy in
Adventist thought came to the fore dramatically through Richard Rices
The Openness of God (1980). Although Adventism definitely leans toward
Arminianismas highlighted by the recent Arminian Conference at Andrews
Universitythere continue to be both polemics toward Calvinism (e.g., the
independent ministry of the 1888 Message Study Community) and even,
among a few, a residual attraction toward sacramentalism. Understanding this
broader debate will only enlighten Adventist struggles.
Wichita, Kansas
Michael W. Campbell

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ANDREWS UNIVERSITY SEMINARY STUDIES

SEMINARY STUDIES 49 (AUTUMN 2011)

OLADINI, LAWRENCE O. A Comparative Study of

Peterson, Eugene H. Practice Resurrection: A Conversation on

Andrews University Seminary Studies, Vol. 49, No. 2, 213-242.

LET THE LITTLE CHILDREN COME:

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to highlight the importance of children. The Israelites are expressly forbidden

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positive terms. It is to a brief examination of historical perspectives on

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appears to have looked to Jesus teachings on children for understanding

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reflecting on his own infancy and in response to the Pelagian controversy,

J. L. Neve, A History of Christian Thought (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1946), 141.

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priests and monks as a religiously superior or more spiritual occupation than

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frequently he portrayed God as wondrously angry toward them; not because

Seminary Studies 49 (Autumn 2011)

Implicit in Simonss rejection of infant baptism was his understanding of

Simons, Christian Baptism, 241.

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The concept of an age of discretion presented the Anabaptists with a

Holly Catterton Allen, Theological Perspectives on Children in the Church:

Seminary Studies 49 (Autumn 2011)

The Early Modern Era

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his understanding of infant baptism,93 Wesley himself affirmed and practiced

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childhood,103 reacted against the revivalist emphasis on emotional experience

Theodore T. Munger, Horace Bushnell: Preacher and Theologian (New York:

Let the Little Children Come . . .

Not surprisingly, Bushnells opponents viewed his scaled-down

Brekus, 325; cf. Bushnell, 211-215.

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Gifts of God and Sources of Joy versus

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The Seventh-day Adventist Church has traditionally heeded James Whites

Seminary Studies 49 (Autumn 2011)

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developmental limitations of children; however, it is important that adults

Seminary Studies 49 (Autumn 2011)

The Scriptures are replete with the theme of adult responsibility to

Let the Little Children Come . . .

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Stonehouse and May, 18.

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environment conducive to children growing up in the knowledge and love

Andrews University Seminary Studies, Vol. 49, No. 2, 243-259.