God’s forgiveness — Exodus 32:7-14

Have you ever done something so bad that you wondered on what basis God could forgive you?

Soon after God delivered his people from slavery, they did something very bad. Instead of worshiping the true, imageless God who brought them out of Egypt, Israel asked for a god of their own making, and attributed their deliverance to a golden calf. Israel would have been accustomed to the Egyptian worship of bovine images in Egypt, but by this point they already knew better, because God had forbidden making an image of him like anything on earth (Exod 20:4-5).

Israel claimed that the calf was their god who brought them up from Egypt (Exod 32:8). Angrily, God spoke to Moses of Moses’s people whom Moses had brought up from Egypt (32:7). Moses in turn reminded God that these were God’s people whom God had brought up from Egypt (32:11).

God declared to Moses, “I have seen this people,” noting their obstinacy and threatening to destroy them (32:9). Much earlier, when God first called Moses, God spoke of seeing his people: “I have seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt,” and, “I have seen the oppression with which the Egyptians are oppressing them.” There he announced that he had heard their cries and had come down to deliver them (3:7-9). This new declaration to destroy his people reversed his earlier intention, declared when he called Moses to deliver them. His people clearly had acted very badly.

Moses offers a couple arguments to intercede for his people; one is for the honor of God’s name among the Egyptians (32:11-12). We know that God cared what the Egyptians thought because he had sent judgments to show the Egyptians that he was God (7:5; 14:4, 18). (Indeed, God’s plan was for the Egyptians to know him one day; Isaiah 19:21.)

But (more to the point of this Bible study) Moses also argues by reminding God of his own promises. When God had initially revealed himself to Moses, he declared that he was the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (3:6, 15). He had promised to deliver Israel and bring them into a land flowing with milk and honey (3:8). So now Moses calls God to remember Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, to whom he promised multiplied descendants and the land for them (32:13). He did not want God to reverse his earlier plan, and appealed to God’s characteristic faithfulness. So the Lord changed his mind and did not destroy his people (32:14).

God spared his people because of his covenant faithfulness, because of his promises to his servants Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. And it is the same with us today. God spares us, forgives us, and looks on us with favor because of what Jesus Christ has done for us. God is still the God who is faithful to his covenant. He does not forget his mercy. And he has provided us that mercy at the greatest cost to himself, for Jesus was even more than a faithful servant of God like Abraham, Isaac, or Jacob. He was God’s own Son, whom God gave on our behalf to save us.

 

Rebekah’s deceit in Genesis 27

Some readers have accused both Isaac and Rebekah of equal fault in favoring their sons (Esau and Jacob respectively; Gen 27:1-10).  But in context of the entire book of Genesis, the motives of the two parents are quite different.  Isaac favors the elder son (25:25; 27:4), but the whole patriarchal line suggests that God does not always choose the elder son (21:12; 49:3-4), and paternal favoritism produces problems (37:4); Jacob himself finally learns and practices this in his old age (48:14-20).  What are Rebekah’s motives?  The clearest clue the text itself provides is in 25:22-23: she had sought God, and God had told her that the younger would prevail.  In contrast to Isaac, Rebekah acts on the basis of a word from God.  Further, Esau had married pagan wives and sold his birthright, with apparently no sense of responsibility for the call on this family to be God’s blessing to the earth (25:31-34; 26:34-35).  In a culture where the husband’s will was law and Isaac was blind to God’s choice, Rebekah took the only route she knew to secure God’s promise.

Genesis is full of accounts that underline for Israel the miracle of their blessing and existence–three barren matriarchs (18:11; 25:21; 30:22), royal abduction or threatening of matriarchs (12:13; 20:2; Isaac repeated his father’s example–26:7), and so on.  Elsewhere in Genesis someone other than the patriarch makes a choice, nevertheless leaving the right land to the patriarch (13:9-13; 36:6-8).  In the context of the themes the entire book emphasizes, it is consistent to believe that God worked through Rebekah’s deception, as he worked through a variety of other means,

This is not to say that the deception was God’s preferred means to accomplish this, though he sometimes blessed deception when it would save human life from unjust oppressors (Ex 1:18-21; Josh 2:5-6; 1 Sam 16:1-3; 2 Sam 17:19-20; 2 Kings 8:10; Jer 38:24-27).  As Jacob stole his brother’s birthright through deception, so he is deceived through two sisters.  When Isaac asked Jacob his name, he lied to get the blessing (Gen 27:18-19), hence incurring his brother’s murderous anger (27:41).  His mother promised to send for him when it proved safe to return (27:45), but apparently she died in the meantime hence could not send for him, so when he is returning he expects that Esau still desires to kill him (32:11).  Thus he struggles all night with the Lord or his agent, and he is confronted with his past.  This time, before he can receive the blessing from God, he is asked his name and must tell the truth (32:26-27; and then gets a new name–32:28), in contrast to the time he sought his father’s blessing (27:18-19).  But God was with Jacob even in spite of himself; he met angels both going from (28:12) and returning to (32:2) the land.  In this story, though Isaac outlives Rebekah, she was the one with the greater perception of God’s purposes for their descendants.

Judah’s punishment in Genesis 38

In his attacks on Christianity, South African writer Ahmed Deedat complains that the Bible is full of pornography and that Genesis 38, the story of Judah and Tamar, is a “filthy, dirty story.”  Did the Bible include this story simply to satisfy base interests of ungodly readers?  Or have Deedat and others missed the entire point of the story?

The story can be summarized briefly, after which we will quickly see a moral lesson in it.  Judah has three sons, Er (38:3), Onan (38:4), and Shelah (38:5).  When God killed Er for sinful behavior (38:7), his younger brother Onan automatically inherited Er’s responsibility to raise up offspring for his brother’s name.  Some cultures where women cannot earn money practice widow inheritance, where another brother takes over the deceased brother’s wife.  In the cultures around this family, however, normally a brother would simply get the widow pregnant, so that she could have a son who would receive her first husband’s share of the inheritance; this son would in turn support her in her old age.

But Onan spills his seed on the ground, and God angrily strikes him dead (38:9-10), as he had struck his brother before him.  Why did Onan “spill his seed”?  And what was so sinful about him doing so?  The firstborn (in this case Er) normally received twice as much inheritance as any other brother; if Onan raised up a son for his brother, that son would be counted as his brother’s son and would receive half the inheritance, leaving only a quarter for Onan and a quarter for Shelah.  But if Tamar could not become pregnant, Onan would receive two-thirds of the inheritance and Shelah one-third.  Onan was greedy, and cared more about the extra inheritance than about honoring his brother and providing for Tamar.  God defended Tamar’s honor, because he cared about Tamar.  The text teaches us about justice.

But the story goes on.  Judah, fearing that allowing his sons to sleep with Tamar is leading to their deaths, refuses to give his final son to Tamar.  In some of the surrounding cultures (though never in later Israelite law), if a brother were unavailable, a father was considered acceptable; so Tamar takes matters into her own hands.  She disguises herself as a prostitute, knowing what kind of person Judah is; then she allows him to impregnate her, but keeps his signet ring so she can later prove that he is the father (38:18).

When Judah learns that Tamar is pregnant, he orders her to be executed.  This reflects a double standard practiced in many cultures: the idea that a man can have sex with anyone (as Judah slept with what he thought was a prostitute) but a woman cannot.  But God has no double standard: sin is as wrong for a man as it is for a woman.  Tamar sent him the signet ring, forcing Judah to release her and admit, “She is more righteous than I” (38:26).  That was the moral of the story: Judah was immoral and raised two immoral sons, and now is caught in his guilt.  By challenging the double standard of his culture, the writer argues against sin.  This is not a “dirty story” at all!

But whole-book context shows us more.  The chapter directly before chapter 38 is chapter 37, where Judah takes the lead in selling his brother Joseph into slavery.  In chapter 38, Judah’s lifestyle of sin finally catches up with him, and he suffers for it!  He sold his father’s son into slavery; now he loses two of his own sons to death.  The chapter after 38 is chapter 39, where Joseph resists the sexual advances of Potipher’s wife, despite the penalty he faces for doing so.  Joseph does not practice a double standard: he lives holy no matter what the cost.  And a few chapters later, God rewards Joseph for his obedience; he becomes Pharaoh’s vizier, and the agent through whom God can actually rescue the very brothers who sold him into slavery.  And when Joseph is exalted, Pharaoh gives Joseph his signet-ring (41:42)–inviting us to remember Judah who lent his to what he thought was a prostitute (38:11).  The larger story has a moral: those who live sinful lifestyles may prosper in the short run, but eventually they suffer; by contrast, those who remain faithful to God may suffer at first, but in the end they will be blessed.

This, however, is not the end of the story.  Although Judah took the lead in selling his half-brother Joseph into slavery, Judah learned from his mistakes.  Later he takes responsibility for Joseph’s full brother Benjamin before their father Jacob (43:8-9), and for his father’s sake takes responsibility for Benjamin before Joseph (44:16-34).  Judah is ready to become a slave himself to keep Benjamin from becoming one–and this is what convinces Joseph that his brothers finally have changed.  The final moral of the story, then, is one of forgiveness and reconciliation, and the faithfulness of God who arranged events to bring it all about.  Ahmed Deedat did not read far enough to understand the story!

A virgin will be with child: Matthew’s interpretation of Isaiah — Matthew 1:23, Isaiah 7:14

We are familiar with the New Testament use of the virgin-born son passage as a reference to Jesus in Matthew 1:23, but most of us have never considered how Matthew came to this conclusion.  Matthew does not use all his Old Testament prophecies the same way.  Some of Matthew’s other Scripture texts refer in the Old Testament not to Jesus but to Israel; for instance, “out of Egypt I called My son” clearly refers to Israel’s exodus from Egypt in Hosea 11:1, but Matthew applies it to Jesus’ exodus from Egypt (Matt. 2:15).  Matthew is not saying that Hosea had Jesus in mind; he is saying that Jesus as the ultimate son of Abraham (Matt. 1:1) recapitulates Israel’s experiences (for instance, his forty days in the wilderness and His quotations from Deuteronomy in Matt. 4:1-11).  That very chapter of Hosea goes on to speak of a new exodus, a new era of salvation comparable to the old one.  Matthew quotes Hosea 11:1 because he knows that Hosea himself pointed to a future salvation.

So before we read Matthew’s application of Isaiah 7:14 into Isaiah, we must carefully examine what Isaiah 7:14 means in context.  (If this exercise makes you nervous, you can skip to our conclusion, but make sure you come back and follow our discussion the whole way through.)  Although Matthew 1:23 clearly refers to Jesus being born of a virgin (the Greek term is clear), scholars dispute whether the Hebrew words in Isaiah also refer necessarily to a “virgin” or, more generally, to a “young woman.”  For the sake of argument, we will avoid this point and examine the context only.

The king of Assyria was encroaching on the boundaries of Israel (the kingdom of Samaria) and Syria (Aram, the kingdom of Damascus).  Realizing that they were in trouble, they tried to get the king of Judah (the kingdom of Jerusalem) to join them in fighting the Assyrians.  When he proved uncooperative, they sought to force him to join their coalition.  At this time, God sent the prophet Isaiah to Ahaz, king of Judah, to warn him not to join the coalition of Israel and Syria.  (Keep in mind that Judah and Israel were two separate countries by this point in their history.)  Syria or Aram (represented by its capital Damascus) and Israel or Ephraim (represented by Samaria) would be crushed shortly (7:4-9).

Isaiah even offered the Judean king Ahaz a sign to confirm that Aram and Israel would quickly fall (7:10-13).  The sign was one that would get Ahaz’s attention: a woman would bear a son and name him Immanuel, “God is with us” (7:14).  Before the son would know right from wrong, while still eating curds (7:15; this was in Isaiah’s day, 7:21-25), the Assyrian king would devastate Aram and Israel (7:16-20).  In other words, the child would be born in Ahaz’s generation!  But then, why was the son named, “God is with us”?  Perhaps for the same reason that all Isaiah’s children bore symbolic names (8:18), just as Hosea’s children were prophetic signs to the northern kingdom of Israel in roughly the same period (Hosea 2:4-9).  We will come back to this point later in our discussion.

After offering this prophecy to Ahaz, Isaiah was sent in to “the prophetess” (presumably his young, new wife, who may have also had the gift of prophecy) and she got pregnant.  They named the son “Mahershalalhashbaz”—”Swift is the booty, speedy is the prey.”  God said to name the child this as a sign to Judah that God would quickly give Judah’s enemies into the hands of the Assyrian army.  Before the boy was old enough to utter the most childish form of, “Mother” or “Father,” Assyria would plunder Aram and Israel (8:1-10).  In other words, Isaiah’s own son would be the sign to Ahaz: his birth would be quickly followed by the devastation of the lands to the north that had sought to force Judah into their coalition.  Judah needed to know that “God is with us,” and that Aram’s and Israel’s “booty” would be carried away “speedily,” and its “prey…swiftly” (7:14; 8:3).

So why did Matthew think Isaiah 7:14 could be applied to Jesus?  Probably not for the same reason we often do.  We apply Isaiah 7:14 to Jesus because we never read its immediate context; Matthew probably applied it to Jesus because he read past the immediate context to the broader context of surrounding passages.  As we mentioned before, Isaiah’s children were for “signs,” each teaching Judah of what God would do (8:18).  The immediate sign of God being with Judah would be the conquest of their enemies to the north; but the ultimate act of God being with them would be when God Himself actually came to be with them.  In the very next passage, Isaiah announces a hope that would extend beyond Judah even to the northern kingdom of Israel (9:1-2), a conquering king, a child who would be born to the house of Judah (9:3-7).  Not only would He be called “God is with us”; like his other titles, which appropriately apply to Him, “Mighty God” would apply to Him (9:6, a title of God also found in the context, 10:21).  This Davidic King (9:7) would be God in the flesh (9:6); in the ancient near East, where Israel may have been unusual for not turning its kings into gods, Isaiah certainly would not have risked calling this king “Mighty God” if he had not meant that God Himself was coming to reign as one of David’s descendants.  Matthew was right, but not for the reason we would have assumed!

Some critics of Matthew, who believe that he simply did not know the context, are skeptical.  It is fair to point out to them that Matthew demonstrates his knowledge of the context just three chapters later.  There he applies to Jesus a passage from Isaiah 9:1-2 (Matt 4:15-16), showing that the context of Isaiah 7:14 remains fresh in his mind!

Who is the Rose of Sharon, the Lily of the Valley? — Song of Solomon 2:1-2

Many Christian songs depict Jesus as the “lily of the valley,” the “rose of Sharon,” and the “fairest of ten thousand.”  The songs are beautiful, and their point is that Jesus is the greatest beauty and desire of our souls.  We should not read the meaning of those beautiful songs back onto the meaning of the Song of Solomon, however; the “rose of Sharon” in this book does not refer to Jesus, directly or indirectly.

This book is an ancient love song, which provides wonderful insights into romance, the language of marital desire and appreciation, dealing with conflicts in marriage (the brief conflict is 5:2-6), the power of jealousy (8:6), etc.  To the extent that it reflects the beauty of marital love, it may also supply us with words in our passionate pursuit of Christ, but this is not the direct subject of the book; the book is a practical example of romantic, married love.  (For instance, the “banquet house” and “banner” in 2:4 may refer to ancient wedding customs: while guests were banqueting at the wedding feast, bride and groom consummated their marriage and reportedly hung out a banner when they had sealed their union sexually.  It is doubtful that we should read such details as a symbol of Christ; it reads much better as a picture of married sexual love in ancient Israel.)

But even if Song of Solomon were but a symbol of Christ and His Church, as some have supposed, “rose of Sharon” and “lily of the valley” could not refer to Christ.  As in the NIV, it is the bride who declares, “I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valley”—i.e., as beautiful as the most beautiful of flowers; her groom had made her feel loved, despite her own insecurities (1:6).  The groom also compares her to a lily (2:2; 7:2); she compares his approach to one who moves among the lilies (2:16; 6:2-3; he also applies this image to her in 4:5).  Even if Song of Solomon were an allegory of Christ and the Church (which is very unlikely), “rose of Sharon” would not refer to Christ, but to His Church.  More likely, it is an example of the beautiful romantic language that an inspired author could apply to his bride, as an inspired guide emphasizing the importance of romantic affection in our marriages today.

Does Ezekiel 28:12-14 refer to the devil?

Like Isaiah, Ezekiel also has oracles against the nations: Ammon (25:1-7), Moab (25:8-11), Edom (25:12-14), Philistia (25:15-17), Tyre (26:1-28:19), Sidon (28:20-26), and Egypt (29:1-32:32). The passage sometimes applied to the devil, 28:12b-19, is in the heart of an oracle against the ruler of Tyre; in fact, verse 12 begins, “Son of man, take up this lament against the ruler of Tyre.” No one disputes that the context refers to the ruler of Tyre, but those who apply the text to the devil declare that it also applies to him, because (they claim) some features of the text cannot apply to anyone but the devil.

This argument, as we shall see, is not actually accurate. The lament calls this ruler arrogant about his wisdom and perfection of beauty (28:12, 17)–just as Tyre claimed to be perfect in beauty (27:3-4, 11) and full of wisdom that brought wealth (28:3-4), self-proclaimed wisdom that made the ruler think he was a god (28:6) though he was but a human being (28:8-10). This ruler was in Eden, the garden of God (28:13), which advocates of the devil-interpretation think must be taken literally: only the devil was in Eden, they say. But this claim is not true; Adam and Eve, who did seek equality with God (Gen. 3:5), also lived in Eden, and Ezekiel could compare the Tyrian ruler’s hubris with that of the first people.

Yet another explanation is better than either the devil-interpretation or the Adam-interpretation: Ezekiel explicitly compares the ruler of Babylon to a cherub (28:14-15). Genesis calls neither Adam nor the serpent a cherub, but does refer explicitly to cherubim in the garden: God’s angels stationed there to keep Adam and Eve out after their fall (Gen. 3:24; cf. Ezek. 28:14-15 NIV: “guardian cherub”). In other words, this is an image representing great prestige in God’s garden. (The “holy mountain of God”–28:14–might allude to Mount Zion, as often in Scripture, in which case the image of cherubim probably also recalls the cherubim on which God was enthroned on the ark in the Temple. The blamelessness until found wicked–28:15–may also be part of the cherub image.)

Some have objected that the king cannot simply be compared to a glorious cherub in Eden; the text calls him a cherub, and must be interpreted literally. Those who insist that all details of such prophecies should be taken literally, however, are not consistent in how they interpret other references to Eden in surrounding chapters. Ezekiel himself is full of graphic, poetic images and metaphors (comparisons in which one thing is simply called another without “like” or “as”), one of which is a statement that Pharaoh was a tree in Eden, God’s garden (Ezek. 31:1-18; he is also a sea monster, 29:3-5). Drawing on various images from the account of Adam and Eve’s fall, Ezekiel’s prophecies speak both of the stately cherubim and the greatest trees in Eden (perhaps the tree of life or the tree of the knowledge of good and evil?) Perhaps advocates of the devil-interpretation press their case that being in Eden refers to the devil in Ezekiel 28 but not in Ezekiel 31 because they can only fit Ezekiel 28 into their view in some other respects. (Some cite the “pipes” on his body, but this is based on only one translation, which the Hebrew does not appear to support here.)

The adornment of precious stones (28:13) alludes to Tyre’s great wealth, elsewhere described in terms of gorgeous array (27:4-7, 24) and trade in diverse merchandise including precious stones (27:16, 22). The wickedness of 28:15 is the wickedness of Tyre’s merchant interests (28:16), her “dishonest trade” (28:18 NIV) elsewhere referred to in the context (27:2-36; 28:4-5; cf. 26:17). The king’s pride on account of his beauty (28:17) recalls the pride of the ruler of Tyre who claims to be a god yet is merely a man (28:2), proud because of the wealth Tyre had amassed through trading (28:5). That fire would come forth from the ruler of Tyre (28:18), just as ancient cities were normally destroyed by burning in their midst (cf. e.g., Amos 1:4, 7, 12; 2:2, 5–especially Amos 1:10, against Tyre).

Ezekiel refers to an arrogant human ruler. The ruler in this passage exalts himself in pride and is cast down; the casting down is more explicit in the oracle earlier in the chapter (28:2-10). He claimed to be a god, enthroned in the heart of the seas (28:2; Tyre was off the seacoast of Phoenicia). God has Ezekiel mock this ruler: You think that you are as wise as a god (28:6), but God would bring judgment on this ruler by other nations (28:7); then would he still pretend to be a god in front of those who would kill him (28:9)? He was a “man,” not a god, and he would die a horrible and violent death (28:8-10). This is hardly a description of the devil, an immortal spirit; this is an earthly ruler who claimed to be a god, who would learn his mortality at the time of God’s judgment on Tyre.

Yet even if these two passages referred to the devil as well as to earthly rulers—though in context they do not—why do defenders of this view often apply these passages to the devil yet never apply them also to earthly rulers judged by God for their arrogance? Wouldn’t examples of human arrogance make even more useful passages for preaching or teaching matters relevant to our hearers? I suspect that many believers simply assume these passages refer to the devil because that is the way we have always heard them interpreted, but many of us never closely examined them in context. Whatever their views, I do not believe any reader can miss our point: this passage has a broad context in the surrounding chapters, and our short-cuts to learning the Bible have failed to study the books of the Bible the way God inspired them to be written.

Does Isaiah 14:12-14 refer to Lucifer’s fall from Heaven?

The full context of this passage would let us know that Isaiah is denouncing a ruler, even if he did not tell us so explicitly. Like many other ancient Israelite prophets, Isaiah includes oracles against various nations: Babylon (Isa. 13-14), Moab (Isa. 15-16), Damascus (Isa. 17), the Nubian and Egyptian empires (Isa. 18-20), Babylon again (21:1-10), Edom (21:11-12), Arabia (21:13-17), Jerusalem (22), and Tyre (23). Isaiah 14:3-4 explicitly tell us that the following oracle is directed against the ruler of Babylon–an oppressor (14:4), a ruler (14:5), who conquered other nations (14:6). As he is defeated, the nations rejoice (14:7); figuratively speaking, even the trees of Lebanon rejoice, for he will no longer be cutting them down for his building projects (14:8). How has the Lord brought this king low, breaking his rod and scepter (14:5)?

The text clearly indicates that he is dead: he goes to Sheol, the realm of the dead (14:9), and other rulers there rejoice that the ruler who defeated them has died just like them (14:9-10). His pomp and dignity ruined, his court harpists silenced, he now rots with maggots and worms consuming his flesh (14:11)–i.e., he is a corpse. This description does not fit the devil very well, but it does fit a human ruler who exalted himself hence was brought low for his arrogance.

Like Israel whose glory was cast from heaven to earth (Lam. 2:1), this ruler has been cast from heaven to earth. At this point some readers think that the subject must change to a literal fall from heaven, in which case, they say, it must be applied to a fallen angel like the devil. But the jubilant outcries of Lebanon’s cedars in 14:8 was hardly literal; neither was the image of dead rulers rising from their thrones in the realm of the dead in 14:9 (would they still be enthroned)? Hebrew poetry painted pictures with words, just as poetry normally does today; in contrast to non-poetic parts of Isaiah, the poetic portions are consistently full of figurative speech. Other texts also speak of figurative falls from heaven, most of them without applying them to the devil (Amos 9:2; Matt 11:23; Lk 10:15).

Kings of Babylon, like some other ancient near Eastern kings, actually claimed to be gods (compare, for example, Dan 3:5; 6:7). Claiming to be a deity like the morning star or offspring of the sun god or deity of dawn would not be unnatural for an ancient near Eastern ruler, but Isaiah grants the title only in contemptuous mockery: “Poor king of Babylon! You reached for heaven, but have been cast down to earth! You tried to raise yourself above God, but now you have died like a man!” (compare the similar taunt in Ps. 82:6-8). Verses 12-14 refer to the king of Babylon just like the preceding verses do: he once conquered nations (14:12), wanted to be enthroned on the sacred mountain (perhaps referring to Babylon’s future conquest of Mount Zion in Jerusalem) (14:13), and he was brought down to Sheol, the realm of the dead (14:15).

The following context drives home the point still more thoroughly: this is “the man” who struck fear into the hearts of nations (14:16), “the man” whose conquests made lands deserted, destroying cities, carrying peoples off into captivity (14:17). Unlike the other nations’ kings who at least were buried in dignity in royal tombs (a final honor very important to ancient people’s sense of honor), this king’s corpse was thrown out in the open to rot, trampled underfoot in punishment for the violent destruction he had brought upon his own people (14:18-20). His descendants and those of his people, Babylon, would be cut off (14:21-22). The text could not be any plainer in context: this explicit oracle against the king of Babylon (14:3-23) would be fulfilled in its time, and God’s oppressed people vindicated.

Despite the clarity of this text, some readers remain so committed to their earlier understanding of the text that they are determined to get around the context. “Well, maybe it does refer to the king of Babylon, but it must refer to the devil, too,” they protest. But why must it refer to the devil? Is there anything here that cannot refer to an earthly ruler exalting himself? Do any of the oracles against other nations (chs. 13-23) contain hidden prophecies against the devil? Was the devil a mere earthly conqueror, brought to the realm of the dead after he was thrust from heaven (14:12, 15)?

“But we all know that Lucifer refers to the devil, and that the devil said he would ascend to heaven,” one student protested to me. “How do we know it?” I replied. The view that “Lucifer” refers to the devil and that the devil promised to ascend to heaven is based on an interpretation of the King James translation of this text. If “Lucifer” appeared here, it would be the only place in the Bible it occurred, but it does not in fact occur here, either. The Hebrew does not speak of “Lucifer” here; that is a Latin title for the “morning star” which the King James Version used in its translation here. Even if we granted that this text “also” refers to the devil, however, why is it that many readers quote it as applying to the devil but not to what it straightforwardly says, namely, a sinning human? Perhaps if we applied the text more as a warning against human pride, many would not want to preach from it any more than they preach from the surrounding chapters (which is little indeed!)

Unable to make their case in Isaiah 14, some students declare that Isaiah 14 must refer to the devil because Ezekiel 28 does. There are two fallacies in this argument. First of all, Ezekiel 28 and other passages could refer to the fall of the devil without Isaiah 14 having to do with that subject; no one is denying that some texts in the Bible refer to fallen angels, only that this is the point of Isaiah 14. The second fallacy of the argument is that Ezekiel 28 is not one of the texts referring to fallen angels, either (see the post on Ezek 28 here).

Let the weak say I am strong — Joel 3:10

This passage is not an invitation to the weary righteous to strengthen themselves; nor is it talking about God’s power perfected in our weakness (central as that biblical message is). God is speaking in judgment to the nations gathered against his people for the final war (Joel 3:9). God mockingly invites the enemies of his people to gather against him, make their weapons and make themselves strong, when in fact they are hopelessly weak before them. Then he promises to destroy them! He is actually mocking the enemies of his people as he invites them to judgment (3:12-14).

God owns the cattle on a thousand hills — Psalm 50:10

Some people insist that God can supply all our needs because, after all, He “owns the cattle on a thousand hills” (Ps. 50:10); some go beyond God supplying all our needs to suggest that He will supply anything we want. It is in fact true that God can supply all our needs, but there are other texts that explicitly make that point. Psalm 50:10, by contrast, does not address the issue of God supplying our needs (and certainly not all our wants); rather, it declares that God does not need our sacrifices.

The figurative setting of Psalm 50 is a courtroom, where God has summoned His people to respond to His charges. He summons heaven and earth as His witnesses (50:1-6)–as witnesses of the covenant (see Deut. 32:1; cf. Ps. 50:5), they would be witnesses concerning Israel’s violation of that covenant. Israel has some reason to be nervous; God is not only the offended party in the case, but the Judge (Ps. 50:4, 6), not to mention the accusing witness! Testifying against them, God declares, “I am your God” (50:7)–reminding them of the covenant He had made with them. They had not broken faith against Him by failing to offer sacrifices (50:8)—in fact, God has little concern about these sacrifices. “I don’t need your animal sacrifices,” he declares, “for all the animals belong to Me, including the cattle on a thousand hills. I don’t eat animal flesh, but if I did, would I tell you if I were hungry? Since I own these creatures, wouldn’t I just take them if I wanted them?” (50:9-13). The sacrifice which He really requires is thanksgiving and obedience (50:14-15; cf. 50:23). But He would prosecute (50:21) the wicked who broke His covenant (50:16-20).

Most ancient near Eastern peoples believed that their gods depended on them for sacrifices, and if their gods were overpowered, their nation would be overpowered as well. The God of Israel reminds them that He is not like the pagan gods around them. Unlike Baal of the Canaanites (whose temples included a bed), Zeus of the Greeks (whom Hera put to sleep so her Greeks could win a battle), and other deities, the God of Israel neither slumbered nor slept (Ps. 121:3-4). God does not mention the cattle on a thousand hills to promise us anything we want (as a song pointed out some years ago, many of us don’t need any cows at the moment anyway); He mentions the cattle to remind us that He is not dependent on us, and we are not doing Him a favor by serving Him.

This is the day the Lord has made — Psalm 118:24

Many churches sing or open services by quoting, “This is the day that the Lord has made.” When we sing this, most of us mean that God has made every day and what comes with it, and that we should therefore rejoice in what happens on that day. This is a true principle, but we would do better to quote a different text to prove it (maybe Eph. 5:20). The text we are quoting or singing (and there is nothing wrong with quoting or singing it) actually offers us a different, dramatic cause for celebration.

In context, Psalm 118:24 refers not to every day, but to a particular, momentous day: the day when the Lord made the rejected stone the cornerstone (118:22-23), probably of the Temple (118:19-20, 27). It speaks of a special day of triumph for the Davidic king, applicable in principle to many of God’s great triumphs but usually applied in the New Testament in a special way. If Psalm 118:22-23 was fulfilled in Jesus’ ministry as He claimed (Mark 12:10-11), so also was Psalm 118:24: the great and momentous day the Lord had made, the day the Psalmist calls his hearers to celebrate, is the prophetic day when God exalted Jesus, rejected by the chief priests, as the cornerstone of His new temple (cf. Eph. 2:20). The verse points to a truth far more significant than merely the common biblical truth that God is with us daily; it points to the greatest act of God on our behalf, when Jesus our Lord died and rose again for us.