Exegesis and Theology

The Blog of Brian Collins

The Role of Man in the Kingdom of God

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I find Eugene Merrill’s statement that the kingdom of God refers to “the sovereignty of God over all His creation, mediated through man, His vice-regent and image” important in its inclusion of “mediated through man.”

Scholars have long wrestled with the fact that God has never lost his sovereignty over the earth while the kingdom of God was something not present that drew near in Christ. For instance, Craig Blomberg explains this tension by proposing, “It was not that [God] was not previously king, but his sovereignty is now being demonstrated in a new, clearer, and more powerful fashion.”[1] Thomas Schreiner presents a bit sharper explanation: “[Jesus] was not referring to God’s sovereign reign over all of history, for God has always ruled over all that occurs. The coming of the kingdom that Jesus proclaimed designated something new, a time when God’s enemies would be demonstrably defeated and the righteous would be visibly blessed.”[2]

Blomberg and Schreiner are not wrong in what they say. But I don’t think their explanations go far enough. For instance, Jesus reigns now, but because he reigns “in the midst of his enemies” (Psalm 110:2) and does not yet “execute judgment among the nations” in “the day of his wrath” (Psalm 110:5-6), it does not seem that at present “God’s enemies [are] demonstrably defeated” or that “the righteous [are] visibly blessed.” We’re still in the time of “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:10).

I think greater clarity comes when the fact that the kingdom theme has its roots in Genesis 1:26-28 is combined with the fact that the kingdom draws near with the Son’s incarnation. The kingdom is about God’s reign over the earth mediated through man. The marvelous thing about God’s plan is that the ultimate human ruler over the earth, Jesus, is both God and man in the same Person.

[1] Craig L. Blomberg, Jesus and the Gospels: An Introduction and Survey, 2nd ed. (Nashville: B&H, 2009), 271, n. 1.

[2] Thomas R. Schreiner, New Testament Theology: Magnifying God in Christ (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2008), 53-54.

Central Role of Kingdom to Biblical Theology

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Though I would not claim that “kingdom” is the center of biblical theology, Merrill’s does persuasively argue for the centrality of “kingdom” to biblical theology.

The resurgence of the biblical theology movement of the past thirty years or so has given rise to a host of issues attendant to that discipline, including the search for a center, or organizing principle, around which the biblical data might be ordered. . . . It is the thesis of this article that such a center does exist and that it lies in the concept of the kingdom of God, the only concept broad enough to encompass the diversity of biblical faith without becoming tautological. . . . Theology must make a statement about God (the subject) who acts (the verb) to achieve a comprehensive purpose (the object).

If this is the case, not only would one expect that statement to be the interlocking and integrating principle observable throughout the fabric of biblical revelation, but he would also expect it to be enunciated early on in the canonical witness in unmistakable terms. Hence, Genesis should most likely provide the seed-bed in which the anticipated proposition is to be found. And a careful reading of that book of beginnings reveals a statement of purpose that is so striking in its clarity and authority that there can be little question it is the very formula we seek to establish the Bible’s own theological center: ‘Then God [the subject] said, “Let Us make [the verb] man [object] in Our image, according to Our likeness; and let them rule [purpose] over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky. . . .” God blessed them; and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it; and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky, and over every living thing that moves on the earth’ (Gen. 1:26-28).

The theme that emerges here is that of the sovereignty of God over all His creation, mediated through man, His vice-regent and image. Thus Genesis, the book of beginnings, introduces the purposes of God, which remain intact throughout the Old and New Testaments despite the sin of man and the impairment of his ability to be and do all that God had intended. The failings of His creation—a major theme of human history and of the Bible itself—are unable to frustrate the ultimate purposes of God, for the language of eschatology is replete with the overtones of redemption and salvation that bring about a renewal of all that God desired to do in creation. There will be a new heaven and new earth wherein dwells righteousness (Rev. 21:1; cf. Isa. 65:17; 66:22).

Eugene H. Merrill, “Daniel as a Contribution to Kingdom Theology,” in Essays in Honor of J. Dwight Pentecost, ed. Stanley D. Toussaint and Charles H. Dyer (Chicago: Moody, 1986), 211-12.

Was Eden a Temple?

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img_3163Tim Challies reviewed today a book by J. Daniel Hays on the tabernacle and temple. From Challies’s review, the book looks good, and I’ve added it to my notes on the tabernacle and temple. But according to Challies Hays makes a claim that seems to have become a commonplace among biblical scholars:

Hays begins in the Garden of Eden which so many scholars understand as its own kind of temple.

There are certainly strong connections between the garden and the tabernacle and temple, but I wonder if scholars are not being careful enough when the actually identify the garden as a temple.

beale_temple1I first encountered this idea when reading G. K. Beale’s book, The Temple and the Church’s Mission, part of the New Studies in Biblical Theology Series. I was less than persuaded by Beale’s argument. Later I found that Daniel Block, writing in a festschrift for Beale, also has some reservations about this thesis.

Beale’s argument for an Edenic temple can be summarized from the following headings in The Temple and the Church’s Mission (66-75): (1) “The Garden as the unique place of God’s presence,” (2) “The Garden as the place of the first priest,” (3) “The Garden as the place of the first guarding cherubim,” (4) “The Garden as the place of the first arboreal lampstand,” (5) “The Garden as formative for garden imagery in Israel’s temple,” (6) “Eden as the first source of water,” (7) “Eden as the place of precious stones,” (8) “The Garden as the place of the first mountain,” (8) “The Garden as the first place of wisdom,” (9) “The Garden as part of a tripartite sacred structure,” (10) “Ezekiel’s view of the Garden of Eden as the first sanctuary.”

I would respond as follows:

(1) The presence of God is the chief actual parallel. But to argue that God’s presence in Eden makes Eden a temple is to mistake the reality for the symbol. The temple is needed as a symbol of God’s presence because the reality of God’s presence has been withdrawn due to sin. When the reality is fully restored, then the need for the symbol passes away (Rev. 21:22). Thus when the reality was present in the past, there was no need for the symbol. Because the reality of God’s presence was found in Eden, Eden was not a temple. The symbol was not needed.

(2) Beale concludes from the occurrence of עבד and שׁמר in Genesis 2:10 that Adam is pictured as a priest since when these words “occur together in the Old Testament . . . , they refer either to Israelites ‘serving’ God and ‘guarding [keeping]’ God’s word . . . or to priests who ‘keep’ the ‘service’ (or ‘charge’) of the tabernacle (see Num. 3:7-8; 8:25-26; 18:5-6; 1 Chr. 23:32; Ezek. 44:14)” (67). However, this is a decontextualized reading of these terms. Beale concedes, “It is true that the Hebrew word usually translated ‘cultivate’ can refer to an agricultural task when used by itself (e.g., 2:5; 3:23)” (67). In the context of Adam being placed in a garden because the garden needed a man for certain kinds of plants to grow (2:5), it is contextually more likely that these words refer to “an agricultural task.” Daniel Block rightly observes, “Lacking other clear signals it is inappropriate to read back into this collocation cultic significance from later texts (e.g., Nm 3:7-8; 8:26; 18:5-6). The conjunction of verbs עבד . . . and שׁמר . . . in association with the tabernacle suggests that priestly functions were reminiscent of humankind’s role in the garden, but the reverse is unwarranted” (Daniel I. Block, “Eden: A Temple? A Reassessment of the Biblical Evidence,” in From Creation to New Creation: Biblical Theology and Exegesis: Essays in Honor of G. K. Beale, eds. Daniel M. Gurtner and Benjamin L. Gladd [Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2013], 10-12).

(3) Since the cherubim are placed to guard the garden only after Adam and Eve were expelled from the garden, their presence on the tabernacle curtains is probably an indication that the way to God is still barred for sinful humans rather than an indication that Eden was a temple.

(4, 5, 6) While it may be true that the lampstand symbolized the tree of life (I am inclined to think so), and while the lampstand and other parts of the tabernacle make use of garden imagery, this only demonstrates that the tabernacle and temple looked back to Eden. It does not demonstrate that Eden was a temple. Likewise with prophetic promise that a river will flow from the temple. Speaking of the river, Block says, “While these images derive from Gn 2:10-14, without the later adaption we would not think of looking for a sanctuary here” (13). Again, to conclude otherwise confuses the reality and the symbol.

(7) Beale says that the Garden is “the place of precious stones,” but the text places the stones outside of Eden in the land of Havilah. Rather than a temple connection, it is contextually more likely that a connection exists back to Genesis 1:28 and the blessing of human rule over the earth. The rivers are highways into the wider world and in those lands are natural resources to be harnessed, such a gold, a standard medium of exchange. Also, Block notes that Bdellium “probably does not refer to a precious stone” and that it is not associated with the high priest’s breastplate. Onyx is connected to “the priestly vestments,” but not exclusively so (13-14).

(8) Block says on this score, “As noted earlier, while the HB [Hebrew Bible] never associates wisdom with the priesthood, its significance for kingship is explicitly declared in Prv 8:12-21 (especially vv. 15-16). . . . To associate the wisdom motif with the law stored inside the Holy of Holies and eating the forbidden fruit with touching the ark is farfetched and anachronistic” (15-16).

(9) Beale’s attempt to connect the structure of the Garden with the structure of the tabernacle falters on the fact that the river does not flow from a holy of holies within the garden but from the broader land of Eden in which the garden is placed (Gen. 3:10).

(10) The argument from Ezekiel 28:18 is difficult to sustain. It seems best to understand Ezekiel as drawing a parallel between the king of Tyre and the cherub who was in Eden just as in the previous passage Tyre had been spoken of in terms of a sunken ship. Beale wishes to identify the cherub as Adam, but it is more likely that the cherub should be identified as Satan, as cherubs are angelic beings, not human beings. Finally, Beale wishes to identify the sanctuaries of Ezekiel 28:18 with Eden. Not only does the plural pose a problem (if there is precedent for identifying that courtyard, holy place, and holy of holies as separate sanctuaries, Beale does not provide it), but this profanation is connected to “the unrighteousness of your trade.” Thus the profanation of the sanctuaries is probably referring directly to the king of Tyre and not to an event that happened in Eden.

I think Block rightly captures the proper interpretation:

In my response to reading Gn 1-3 as temple-building texts, I have hinted at the fundamental hermeneutical problem involved in this approach. The question is, should we read Gn 1-3 in the light of later texts, or should we read later texts in light of these? If we read the accounts of the order given, then the creation account provides essential background to primeval history, which provides background for the patriarchal, exodus, and tabernacle narratives. By themselves and by this reading the accounts of Gn 1-3 offer no clues that a cosmic or Edenic temple might be involved. However, as noted above, the Edenic features of the tabernacle, the Jerusalem temple, and the temple envisioned by Ezekiel are obvious. Apparently their design and function intended to capture something of the original environment in which human beings were placed. However, the fact that Israel’s sanctuaries were Edenic does not make Eden into a sacred shrine. At best this is a nonreciprocating equation. (20-21)

In sum, though the tabernacle and temple looked back to the garden of Eden and the loss of the presence of God that occurred with humanity’s exile from the garden, the garden itself was not a temple. In the grand scheme of things, this is not a major difference of interpretation, but it is still worth maintaing precision in our understanding of these foundational parts of Scripture.

Review of Wellum and Gentry’s Kingdom Through Covenant

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Gentry, Peter J. and Stephen J. Wellum. Kingdom through Covenant: A Biblical-Theological Understanding of the Covenants. Crossway: 2012.

[Update 4/21/16: A friend passed this post along to one of the authors who responded to me, pointing out areas in which he thought the review was not entirely accurate. I appreciate his work in accurately portraying other theological views, so I am updating this review in light of his comments.]

Kingdom-Through-Covenant-Gentry-Wellum-In this volume Wellum and Gentry embark on the ambitious project of laying out a third way between covenant theology and dispensationalism. They label their position New Covenant Theology or Progressive Covenantalism (others who hold a similar position are Tom Wells, Fred Zaspel, John Reisinger, Thomas Schreiner, and Jason Meyer). [Update 4/21/16: The authors wish to distinguish PC from NCT. The two share some similarities, but they do not wish them to be equated. Since Schreiner and Meyer both contribute to the new book on Progressive Covenantalism, it seems safe to identify them with PC] Wellum and Gentry’s contribution is the arguement that covenant forms the “backbone” of Scripture’s storyline and that understanding how the covenants relate is key to right biblical and systematic theology. Of course many dispensationalists and covenant theologians could affirm these two points. The differences lie in how the covenants are seen to function and fit together.

Part One: Prolegomena

Covenants and Systems

Before outlining their view Wellum first outlines the positions of dispensationalism and covenant theology. Too often non-dispensationalist surveys of dispensationalists are incomplete and thus unfair. The worst surveys will take the Scofield Reference Bible as their main source without recognizing the development that his taken place since Scofield’s time or the variety of opinion within dispensational thought. Wellum does not fall into this error. His survey is one of the best surveys of dispensationalism by a non-dispensationalists that I’ve read (Vern Poythress’s work, Understanding Dispensationalists, would be the other good survey).

Interestingly, the survey of covenant theology was not quite as well done. Wellum did pick up on divergences between some covenant theologians about how the Mosaic Covenant relates to the covenant of works. However, he did not deal with the views of earlier Baptist covenant theologians. This is a significant oversight since at one point Wellum suggests the labeling his own position “Baptist theology” (25, n. 7) [Update 4/21/16: The author noted that this footnote was a bit of joke] and since he repeatedly argues that one of the major differences between progressive covenantalism and covenant theology is paedobaptism versus credobaptism.

I was also less than impressed with the parallels Wellum tried to draw between dispensationalism and covenant theology. He contends at the end of chapter 2 that covenant theologians adhere to a genealogical principle rooted in the Abrahamic covenant which leads them to assume that the infants of believers are part of the church. He then concludes, “Ironically, this is a similar hermeneutical argument that dispensational theology makes, yet in different areas. Dispensational thought makes it in regard to the land promise while covenant theology makes it in regard to the genealogical principle, both of which are tied to the Abrahamic covenant!” (76). [Update 4/21/16: I should add that the similarity argued here for between CT and DT is that neither allow circumcsion/land to be viewed as typological; it is argued that if circumcision/land is traced throughthe biblical covenants it becomes clear that they must be typological.] Though the claim of this parallel is repeatedly made, I’m not convinced the parallel exists. Covenant theology makes its case for infant baptism by plugging the Abrahamic covenant into an overarching covenant of grace, thereby failing to recognize the covenant shift that the new covenant brings about. Dispensational theology, on the other hand, is simply asserting that the promises of the Abrahamic covenant will be fulfilled as they were given. The new covenant does not abrogate these promises; indeed, it actually repeats them. The divergences between progressive covenantalism and dispensationalism actually lies in hermeneutics, to which Wellum turns in chapter 3.

Hermeneutics

In chapter 3 Wellum lays out the hermeneutical principles that underlie the system that he and Gentry are proposing. Many of these are to be heartily endorsed. Wellum begins by defending self-attesting canon and its claims to inerrancy, concluding from this that the diversity of Scripture does not undermine “an overall unity and coherence between the testaments.” Amen.

Second, Wellum affirms that we discern God’s intent in Scripture through the human authors of Scripture. He affirms that this leads to a canonical reading of Scripture that is open to a certain kind of sensus plenior. He rejects an approach to sensus plenior that asserts the “fuller sense” “cannot be discovered by grammatical-historical exegesis,” noting that that this leads to “a subjective reading of the text without hermeneutical controls.” Instead, he argues, “We discover God’s intent through the human authors of Scripture at the canonical level. God says more than the individual authors may have known, yet he does not contravene what the authors wrote and intended” (85, n. 11). I would assent to this, though I’m going to argue that Wellum and Gentry do not consistently adhere to this principle.

Third, Wellum says that Scripture is the inspired interpretation of God’s redemptive acts, meaning that the pattern “preparatory word, then the divine act, followed by the interpretive word” (88) is typical in Scripture revelation. The corollary to this is that revelation is progressive, which, in turn, means that theologians need to note where texts fall in redemptive history as they systematize.

These three principles lead Wellum to conclude that interpreters deal with three horizons: the (1) text in an (2) epochal context (cf. Rom. 5:12-21; Acts 7:1-53) and a (3) canonical context. Again, I would register no disagreement with Wellum here. However, the discussion of canonical context balloons into a discussion of typology, and here some differences emerge.

There is much to agree with in Wellum’s treatment of types (e.g., the exegetical rooting of types). But when he asserts that types always escalate when moving from the OT to the NT or that types are what establish the discontinuity between OT and NT, I have questions. [Update 4/21/16: Their argument is that escalation occurs because the types are fulfilled in Christ, who is greater than any of the anti-types.]

Do types-antitypes establish discontinuity between the testaments or does a change in covenant administration bring about the discontinuties. I would argue for the latter. True, there were typological aspects to earlier covenantal administrations (e.g., the sacrificial system), but the reason for the discontinuity is fundamentally due to the change in covenant. [Update 4/21/16: It is the change of covenants because the typology develops through the covenants.]

I also question the claim that types always escalate. It seems that included in this statement is the assumption that escalation involves displacement. Thus Wellum concludes that the specific promise of a land to the nation of Israel is displaced because the land of Israel is a type with the antitype being the new creation. I would certainly agree that with sometimes escalation involves displacement. The sacrificial system was typological of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, and the antitype displaced the type. But what of the Davidic kingship? Is that typical? If so, the escalation from type to antitype did not displace the Davidic kingship, for the Messiah reigns as the Davidic king. Perhaps it would be better to say that earlier Davidic kings were typical of the climatic Davidic King. The earlier kings are displaced, in a sense, but the David kingship is not.

So what of the land? One could say that the land is typical of the new creation, but is not the land part of the renovated earth? If so, it is hard to see how the antitype can displace the type (expansion, yes; elevation, yes; displacement no). Perhaps it would be better to speak of the land as conquered by Joshua or as reigned by Solomon as typical of the new creation. Again, just as historical kings are displaced by the final king, so the land in a historical period is displaced by the climatic historical period, but this is different from claiming that the promises regarding the land are displaced.

This discussion points to an odd formulation in this book. Wellum speaks of the land promise being typical. To claim that a promise is a type is an interesting claim, and one that is not defended. It also leads to complications. It puts Wellum in the odd position of saying the promise is a type for something other than what was promised such that the promise itself will never be fulfilled. What is more, this would seem to contravene the earlier affirmation that the fuller sense of Scripture “does not contravene what the authors wrote and intended,” though God may say “more than the individual authors may have known.” I would take that statement to mean that God can mean more than he promised to Abraham, but he can’t mean other. In other words, I have no argument with seeing the “Eden . . . presented as the archetype, which the ‘land’ later looks back to and forward to in anticipation of the recovery of the new creation” (124). To say the land promise expands to encompass the new creation is something that I think is at least hinted at in its original statements in Genesis. What I fail to see is how this expansion or escalation cancels out part of the promise.

Part Two: Exposition

Part two of Kingdom through Covenant is written by Peter Gentry. It is supposed to provide the exegetical basis for the theological conclusions. Gentry rarely, if ever, makes clear the connection between his exegesis and the broader project of the book. Gentry also seems given to rabbit trails. At points it seems that Gentry had a collection of exegetical studies that he wanted to share, and since some connection between those studies and the thesis of the book could be made, this was his opportunity to share them. Thus, as a reading strategy, I would recommend reading parts one and three first. Come back to part two in order to see how some of the claims in these other parts are sustained (or not) exegetically.

None of this is to deny that this section presents a great deal of helpful exegesis. Nonetheless, I do think that this section suffers from two methodological problems. First, Gentry’s method places too much weight on ANE background material (a point also noted by Brack and Oliphiint in their review of Kingdom through Covenant). In terms of methodology, I would argue that background material should play a similar role as the that given by the magisterial Reformers to tradition. The Reformers highly valued tradition but it served interpretation of Scripture rather than determined it. I would like to see interpreters value tradition, the history of interpretation (something that often seems lacking in those who emphasize ANE or Second Temple background), and background materials while keeping both servants of the text rather than masters. Second, as almost every other reviewer has noted, the exegetical section suffers from lack of interaction with the New Testament. A New Testament exegetical section is vital for the argument of this book. For Wellum and Gentry’s view of typology to be accepted, they need to demonstrate that the New Testament operates with their view. Without this argumentation, their approach to typology is asserted, not demonstrated. Though Gentry is not a New Testament scholar his section could without doubt have been tightened up to make room for the contribution of a New Testament scholar such as Thomas Schreiner. I hope this will happen if there is a second edition.

Two substantive issues should also be raised. First, while I agree with the argument for a creation covenant, and while I think the creation covenant and the Noahic covenant are related, I remain unconvinced that the Noahic covenant is simply a confirmation of the creation covenant. As I look at these covenants, the parties are different, the promises are different, the prohibitions are different, the sanctions are different, and the nature of the covenants are different. Though I think Gentry made the case that karat berit typically means to initiate a covenant and heqim berit typically means to confirm a covenant, it does seem to me that there are occasional exceptions (Gen. 6:18; Ex. 6:4; Eze.16:59-62). However, despite the great stress that Gentry placed on this point, I don’t see it as essential to their case. More significant, however, is their rejection of distinctions between unconditional and conditional covenants (or between royal grant and suzerainty covenants).  They argue that all the covenants demand obedience of the partners. I agree that all of the covenants have expectations placed on those within the covenant. The Noahic covenant, for instance, has expectations that God places on all mankind. But human violations of those expectations, even on a large scale, will never result in a second global flood. That would violate the nature of the covenant. On the other hand, Israel was told that their violation of the conditions of the Mosaic covenant would result in certain penalties. I think Gentry and Wellum have over-compensated on this point.

Part Three: Theological Integration

In part three Wellum deals with the biblical and systematic theological implications of their proposed system.

Biblical Theology

Chapter sixteen focuses on biblical theology. As one might expect from a book titled Kingdom through Covenant, kingdom and covenant are the two foci of this chapter. I agree with Wellum and Gentry that “kingdom through covenant” captures a central biblical motif, but I was disappointed with how these motifs were fleshed out.

Kingdom

Wellum states his understanding of the kingdom of God in five points. (1) As Creator God providentially rules over all creation. (2) After the Fall a distinction is made between God’s providential reign over all things and “his saving reign in the context of a rebellious creation to make all things right” (593). (3) The kingdom could have come through the covenants if those in the covenants lived according to them; their failure means that the kingdom will come through covenant promises. (4) The Davidic Messiah is the one who will inaugurate the new covenant, which will fulfill all of the other covenants. (5) In the New Testament, “the ‘kingdom of God’ refers primarily to God’s kingly and sovereign rule,’ especially as it relates to salvation. It does not primarily refer to a “geographical location” (595-96). This understanding leads to the following conclusions. Because of the way in which Christ fulfilled the Old Testament, “many of the themes that were basic to the Old Testament have now been transposed and transformed” (598). Thus the kingdom of God is no longer rule over a people in a land but is the rule of God in the transformation of a people.

Wellum’s error comes at the starting point of his definition of the kingdom of God. If one starts with the assumption that the kingdom is God’s sovereign rule over creation, then one is left with the difficult question of how the kingdom comes with the Messiah. God has always been sovereign over the creation; the advent of the Messiah does not alter that reality. Wellum addresses this problem by introducing the idea of a saving reign alongside the sovereign reign of God.

But in doing biblical theology, the theologian should endeavor to see how Scripture itself develops a motif and examine that categories that Scripture uses. The Bible itself begins its treatment of the kingdom theme in Genesis 1:26-28. The kingdom announced there is the rule of man over creation under God’s sovereign reign. Thus the kingdom of God announced in the Gospels does not refer to the sovereign, providential reign of God over all things, as that has never been altered. Rather, it refers to the reign of God as mediated though man, his vice-regent. That reign was damaged by the Fall, but it is restored in the Messiah, who reigns as the last Adam.

It is this kingdom, rather than God’s providential reign, that is preserved and promised by the covenants. The covenants preserve the realm of this kingdom (Noahic), promise the coming Seed who will reign (Abrahamic, Davidic), and provide for a people who is to model what a reign under God in a land is to look like (Abrahamic, Mosaic). All of these covenants climax in the inauguration of the New Covenant by the Messiah.

On this understanding, the kingdom as inaugurated by the Messiah does have an emphasis on salvation and transformation, as Wellum rightly notes. The Messiah’s goal is to reverse the Fall by creating a people who will rule the earth under God’s greater rule (Dan. 7:27; Rev.  22:5), and for this people to fulfill that goal they must be saved and transformed. Those who are not will be judged by the king when he returns and fully establishes his reign on earth.

But this conception of the kingdom does not allow the “a theocratic state in which God rules by his human vassal in the Davidic dynasty” and “the immediate transforming reign of God” to be pitted against each other. Such a dichotomy fails to reckon with the reality that one of the reasons for the incarnation was for the Messiah to fulfill Genesis 1:26-28 by reigning as a man. Further, it wrongly dismisses the importance of the realm: a kingdom centered on Jerusalem that encompasses the entire creation (Ps. 72:8). The marvelous thing about God’s plan is that Jesus reigns as both human and as Yahweh. Part of the glory of God’s plan is the way these two reigns combine in Christ. Therefore, it diminishes the glory that God intended to minimize one aspect of the reign of Christ and to highlight only one aspect.

Covenants

Wellum then turns to covenants after his treatment of kingdom. He argues that instead of speaking of a unitary “covenant of grace” or of dispensations, one should give attention to the development of God’s plan in the multiple biblical covenants. I’d agree with this.  But there are problems in some the ways this idea is developed.

Wellum says that the “new covenant supersedes all the previous covenants in redemptive-history” (604). From this he concludes that circumcision ceases and that the land promise is changed. But what does it mean to say that the New Covenant supersedes all of the previous covenants? Does it mean that the Noahic covenant is no longer still in effect? I would find that hard to square with Genesis 8:21-22. The New Covenant is specifically contrasted with the Mosaic covenant; does it replace the Abrahamic and the Davidic in the same way? Finally, whatever supersede means, it cannot mean that the promises of the earlier covenants fail to come to pass. Surely the promises of the Davidic covenant are still in effect. Circumcision, a rite signifying the covenant, is surely different from the promise  of the land.

The chapter closes with a summary of the significance of each of the biblical covenants. This is a good summary apart from disagreement on a few details. For instnace, the land promise is said to be a type. Again, how is a promise a type? Or, “we are no longer under the previous covenants in exactly the same way” as God’s people prior to Christ. This raises the obvious question: in what ways are we and aren’t we under covenants like the Noahic covenant?

Systematic Theology

In chapter seventeen Wellum turns to the implications their proposal has for systematic theology. There is a great deal to appreciate in this chapter. I especially agree with his conclusions regarding the subjects of baptism. His approach to the issue of baptism was one that I came to in seminary, and Wellum has confirmed and strengthened my thinking on this matter.

Particular Atonement

Another area in which Wellum provided enlightenment was his argument for particular atonement based on the intercession of Christ. This argument had previously seemed fairly weak to me, but Wellum’s presentation enabled me to feel its force.

Nonetheless, I think there are several problems with it. Wellum’s argument is twofold: “(1) Christ’s work as our great high priest is a unified work; (2) Christ’s work as the mediator of the new covenant entails a particular and not a general representation” (672). The first point is really just another aspect of the debate over whether accomplished and applied are necessarily coextensive in scope or not. The second point, however, seems to be more significant.

As Wellum unpacks this second point he argues that the priests in the Old Testament mediated only for the covenant people; Christ also mediates only for people in the new covenant. Since only the regenerated (and thus only the elect) are part of the new covenant, Christ only mediates (in both his cross-work and heavenly intercession) for the elect. On the face of it, this seems to be a strong argument. However, Wellum does not seem to reckon with the fact that the reason sacrifices were only made for those already in the old covenant was due to the genealogical principle. But, as he has argued forcefully in this volume, the new covenant does not operate on the geneological principle.

Unlike the Israelites, who were in the Mosaic covenant before the Mosaic sacrifices were offered, no one was in the new covenant when Christ made his sacrifice. Since people enter the new covenant differently than the Mosaic covenant, the sacrifice cannot be made only for those in the covenant lest it be made for no one. Wellum does not seem to recognize this difficulty, for he grants that Christ intercedes for the elect both before and after they believe (674-76). He does not seem to recognize that this undermines the argument that Christ’s priestly work is only done for those in the New Covenant. He could respond that God knows who will be in the New Covenant, but intercession basd on foreknowledge is fundamentally different from intercession tied to who is in the covenant.  If Wellum’s argument concerning baptism holds, as I think it does, then his argument regarding particular redemption does not.

Wellum does anticipate and respond to some other potential objections. He notes that a proponent of general atonement could argue that the Old Testament priest represented only those in the Mosaic Covenant but that Christ, due to the incarnation, represented the whole human race (see Heb. 2:9). To this Wellum replies that Hebrews 2 is clear that Christ only mediates for and brings to glory Abraham’s seed.

This is not a compelling argument, for it assumes what it must prove. Hebrews 2:9 speaks of the provision of salvation in the death of Christ for everyone, and Hebrews 2:17 speaks of the provision of propitiation for “the people” generally. Verse 16 speaks of the application more specifically to the seed of Abraham. Wellum’s argument only works if the provision is only made for those to whom it is applied―which is the point under debate. Further, Wellum never actually explains the meaning of “tastes death for everyone.”

The second general atonement argument to which Wellum responds sees the typology of the Old Testament priestly ministry differently from Wellum. It notes that the Old Testament priests offered sacrifices for a mixed group of believers and unbelievers. What was true of the type is true of the antitype. Wellum has three responses. First, he reiterates that the Old Testament priests only represented those within their covenant. Second, the work of the Old Testament priests was typological and antitypes are always more particular than types. Third, the new covenant is more effective than the old covenant. I find Wellum’s first two counter-arguments to be weak. There is agreement about the first point; there is disagreement about its significance (see above). So reiterating the point doesn’t really establish the conclusion.  The second point is an assertion that Wellum fails to establish. In fact, wouldn’t he say that the land promises become less particular, moving from a type which is a particular plot of real estate to an antitype which is the entire new creation? The third argument is stronger. In response, though, one could affirm that Christ’s sacrifice was more effective than Levitical sacrifices and still hold that he made sacrifice for both believers and unbelievers. Christ’s sacrifice is effective in that it saves those who believe whereas the blood of bullas and goats could never save.

Eschatology and the Land

Wellum concludes the book by turning to eschatologym which brings him back to the issue of the land.

First he reiterates his rejection of the unconditional/conditional categorization of the covenants, affirming both that disobedient Israel forfeited their right to the land and that Jesus will bring the land promise to fulfillment in the new creation. In particular, he argues that dispensationalists err in thinking that the land refers to “a specific piece of real estate with well-defined geographical boundaries” rather than recognizing that it is typological of the entire creation (706).

Second, he says the Abrahamic covenant itself points to the typological nature of the land promise by promising universal blessings, which indicates that the promise cannot be tied to a particular territory. This is confirmed by the fact that the Bible does not give “consistent and precise” borders for the land (708).

Third, when the Abrahamic covenant is understood in the context of the covenant of creation, then it becomes clear that land is a type of the new creation.

Fourth, the fulfillments of the land promise by Joshua and Solomon are incomplete, and the prophets tie their land prophecies to the coming of the new creation, again indicating that the land is a type of the new creation.

Fifth, Jesus fulfills all the covenants by bringing in the new creation. He thus fulfills the land promise in the new creation.

I would agree with Wellum that the land promise points ahead to the new creation. In fact, I think I can make the case stronger by pointing out that the land, seed, blessing aspects of the Abrahamic promises connect to the blessing, seed, dominion promises in the Adamic covenant. Also, some of the land promise passages in Genesis point to a broadening of the land promise to the entire earth. For instance, Jacob is promised, “a nation and a company of nations shall come from you” (35:11) Land is likely implied in this promise. Gentry argues that goyim does not properly apply to the twelve tribes since they were not “politically and socially structured entities with government” (292-93). Nor does the divided kingdom of two nations constitute a “company of nations.” If Gentry is correct, it would be the universal blessing aspect of the promise to Abraham that would be picked up here. It would also be an early instance of implied extension of the land promise. As the Old Testament continues, the extension of the land promise is made more explicit (Psalm 72:8). But if the Old Testament can promise at the same time both particular land promises as well as point to the extension of the promise to the entire creation, why cannot the fulfillment inlcude both the particular and the general? The is no contradiction in Israel possessing a particular land in the new creation and the other nations all enjoying the restored new creation.

The other arguments, such as the lack of “consistent and precise” borders are fairly weak. When the passages are examined, it seems that these inconsistencies are more imagined than actual. If this were an issue of inerrancy, I’m sure Wellum would have little trouble in harmonizing the passages.

Conclusion

While this review has been largely critical, there is much to appreciate in Kingdom through Covenant. I think the title expresses in a pithy way one of the central themes of Scripture. The importance given to the biblical covenants, the defense of a creation covenant, the critique of covenant theology’s single covenant of grace under two administrations, and the defense of believer’s baptism on the basis of a proper understanding of the new covenant are all teachings with which I heartily agree. Despite the differences, I’m looking forward with anticipation to Wellum’s forthcoming contribution on Christology in the Foundations of Evangelical Theology series as well as to other writing that he and Gentry produce.

Does Romans 4:13 Expand the Land Promise?

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Hsieh, Nelson S. “Abraham as ‘Heir of the World’: Does Romans 4:13 Expand the Old Testament Abrahamic Land Promises?” Master’s Seminary Journal 26, no. 1 (Spring 2015): 95-110.

Hsieh notes the tendency of non-dispensationalsits to move away from allegorical or spiritualizing arguments which state that the church has replaced Israel and to move toward arguments that the promises, such as the land promise, have been expanded beyond Israel in the NT to include the whole church and the whole world. Thus the land promise for Israel is fulfilled not in the restoration of the nation of Israel to a land but in the blessing of the new earth for all of God’s people.220px-Gold_TMS_Logo

Romans 4:13 is one of a handful of texts used to make a case for this perspective. Hsieh notes, however, that this text is employed with little argumentation. Proponents typically assume that it teaches the extension of the land promise. Those who do argue for this view typically appeal to second temple literature that expands the land promise to encompass the world. In response, Hsieh argues that the second temple literature does not have a uniform position on the land promise. Some literature does extend the promise to the world while other literature sees a localized fulfillment for the nation of Israel. What is more, at least in Jubilees, the expansion of the land promise to the world is held alongside the view that Israel rules over the nations of the world from its own land.

Hsieh proposes a different interpretation. He argues that contextually Paul defines the promise noted in 4:13 “in terms of Abraham becoming the father of many nations and having innumerable descendants (vv. 17-18)” (107). To be heir of the world thus means that Abraham is heir of a seed from many nations who have faith in God as he did. Not only does this reading make better sense of the context, but also, Hsieh argues, because this is a promise that Abraham believed. Abraham knew of the promise that he would be the father of many nations. Abraham did not know (and thus could not believe) and expanded land promise. Hsieh closes his article by making the case that κόσμος and κληρονόμος can refer to seed and need not point to the land promise.

I think that Hsieh mounts a good argument for his position, and he may well be right about this text. However, as he indicates at the close of his article, other texts are also in play in this discussion and in need of more careful study. I’m not convinced that his major concern (which I share) is harmed if some of these texts do validate the thesis that the land promise is expanded. Psalm 72:8 expands the land promise within the Old Testament itself. Indeed, this expansion may go back to Abraham himself. In Genesis 22:17, God promises that Abraham’s seed will possess the gates of their enemies. Linked tightly to this promise is the promise that in Abraham’s seed all the nations of the earth will be blessed (22:18). If these promises are meant to be tightly linked, the promise of 22:17 would not be limited to the conquest of Canaan but would be extended to the reign of the Messianic King over all the nations. Further, if the expansion of the land promise to the nations extends all the way back to Abraham itself, then the expansion need not be played off against the specific land promises given to Israel (and Hsieh’s suvey of Jubilees shows that at least in one text it was not). It is, after all, an Israelite king that rules from Jerusalem over all the nations. If other nations exist in their lands under the Messianic king, why not allow a restoration of Israel to its land under the Messianic king? Finally, Hsieh may be correct that Romans 4:13 does not contribute to an expansion of the land promise theme, but if my proposal is correct, Abraham as father of many nations and the expansion of the land promise many be themes that are more closely linked than one might first think.

Land in Genesis 18-21

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Genesis 18

Yahweh is the “Judge of all the earth” (18:25). Given human wickedness this is a fearsome prospect. There is no one who will escape God’s judgment. But the promise of Genesis 12 is repeated here: “All the nations of the earth will be blessed” in Abraham (18:18). Provision is made through Abraham for all people to be blessed rather than judged. It is for this reason that Abraham is qualified for God to share with him the judgment he has planned for Sodom and Gomorrah.

In this passage, “all” and “earth” are brought together to indicate universal extent.

Genesis 19

Earth words are used in this passage several times without theological significance (19:1, 23, 31). But in verse 25 and 28 it is clear that once again human sin has an effect on the land. A land that once could be compared with the garden of the Lord (13:10) now has not only its wicked cities with their inhabitants burned up but the vegetation as well so that the land that Lot once saw as well-watered Abraham now sees smoking like a furnace.

Sodom throughout Scripture is the illustration of human wickedness (Deut. 32:32; Isa. 1:10; 3:9; Jer 23:14; Ezek. 16:46-56; 2 Pet. 2:6; Jude 7; Rev. 11:8). It may well be that the consequences of Sodom’s sin are also paradigmatic. Peter says as much: “. . . if by turning the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah to ashes he condemned them to extinction, making them an example of what is going to happen to the ungodly” (2 Pet. 2:6). Peter does teach that there is a judgment of fire awaiting the earth (2 Peter 2:7), though the connection he makes directly is to the suffering of the ungodly in hellfire (see also Jude 7).

Genesis 20

This chapter touches on the promises of land, seed, and blessing. In this chapter Abraham is both a curse and a blessing to Abimelech, as Abimelech moves from an (unwitting) wrong relationship to Abraham to a right relationship with him. The subtext to the entire chapter is the danger that Abraham’s deception puts the seed promise in (which also demonstrates the promise is given not earned). Land also plays a role. The chapter begins with Abraham traveling to the land of the Negeb and then sojourning in Gerar. His traveling and sojourning in the land are indications that the land promise is yet to be fulfilled. But in verse 15, Abraham is given and open invitation to dwell in Abimelech’s land. The land is not yet Abraham’s, but this is a step toward the promise (Wenham, WBC, 2:75). This invitation will lead to Abraham’s first land-possession in Canaan (Gen. 21:15-16) (Mathews, NAC, 2:258).

Genesis 21

Whereas the first part of this chapter dealt with the initial fulfillment of the seed promise in the birth of Isaac, the last part of the chapter deals with the land and blessing aspects of the promise. Abimelech has recognized God’s blessing on Abraham, and he presumes that that blessing will cause Abraham’s descendants to become powerful. He thus requests a covenant guaranteeing kindness. He will bless Abraham in the hope of receiving blessing.

And yet during this time Abraham is still a sojourner in the land (21:34). Not only that, he is a sojourner who has his wells taken away (21:25). The seed promise has begun to be fulfilled, but the land promise is still a distant hope.

Genesis 16-17

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Genesis 16 deals primarily with the seed promise, but verse 3 does note that Abram had dwelt in the land for 10 years. Wenham notes, “This comment may be double-edged. It obviously explains Sarah’s concern to do something about their childlessness, but it may also hint that the promise of the land is proving valid. The passing years should strengthen faith as the fulfillment of the promises is seen, but they also test it because that fulfillment is only partial” (Wenham, Genesis, 2:8).

In Genesis 17 God confirms the covenant that he cut with Abram in chapter 15. Whereas land was a major focus in chapter 15, here seed is the major focus. Nonetheless, land is not entirely absent. Part of the seed promise includes the promise that Abraham will be the father of kings and nations (17:6). The land promise is implicit in these promises. Indeed, directly after these promises God reaffirms the land promise (17:8). The land is designated in two ways. First, it is “the land of your sojournings. Second, it is “all the land of Canaan.” This recalls of the promises given in 13:15-17 in which Abram is told that God will give him all the land that he can see (here labeled as Canaan) and told to walk through the length and breadth of it (Abraham now seems to have sojourned in the length and breadth of it). As in chapter 13 the possession of the land is promised not only to Abraham’s seed but to Abraham himself. Further, as in chapter 13, the duration of the possession is עוֹלָם —forever.

Land: Genesis 14-15

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Genesis 14

Place names are abundant in this chapter, and the land word שָׂדֶה (country) appears in 14:7, but the only theologically significant occurrence of the land theme in this chapter are in 14:19, 22. In those verses God is identified as “Creator of heaven and earth” (HCSB; The Hebrew word קנה could refer to either “Possessor” or “Creator.” Hamilton, NICOT, 1:411-12. In the context of Genesis, “Creator” seems the better choice. Of course, as Creator, God is the owner of heaven and earth). Abram reaffirms his trust that God as Creator of heaven and earth will fulfill his promises apart from the help of the king of Sodom.

Genesis 15

Genesis 15 is about the seed promise and the land promise. The chapter divides into two somewhat parallel sections. Verses 1-6 concern the seed promise and verses 7-21 concern the land promise (Wenham, WBC, 1:325; Mathews, NAC, 2:157; Gentry and Wellum, Kingdom through Covenant, 248-49). In verse 7 God reaffirms his promise to give the land to Abraham. It was for this reason that God called Abram from Ur of the Chaldeans. The promises of seed and blessing could theoretically been fulfilled in Ur. But the gift of this land required Abram’s departure from Ur.

As in verse 2, Abram asks for confirmation of the promise. Given verse 6, this should not be taken as a sign of faithlessness (Wenham, WBC, 1:331). God responds to this request by cutting a covenant with Abram. This begins with God’s instructions to take certain animals, cut them in half (except for the birds) and lay them opposite. All of the animals, save for the last bird (גּוֹזָל) were used in Israel’s sacrificial system. Most were used for a number of different kinds of sacrifices. The heifer was used in sacrifices to purify the land from unsolved murders (Deut. 21:1-7). Abram is then forced to defend the carcasses from birds of prey.

It is the next section (vv. 12-16) that gives us clues as to the significance of these actions. The animals that would later be used in Israel’s sacrificial system may represent Israel (Wenham, WBC, 1:332-; Mathews, NAC, 2:172-73). Given the prediction that Israel would be afflicted in Egypt, the birds of prey may represent Egypt (Mathews, NAC, 2:172-73. Other commentators identify the birds more generally as representing the “surrounding nations.” McKeown, 92; cp. Wenham, 1:132-33). McKeown notes, “Without Abram’s presence, these carcasses would have disappeared rapidly” (THOTC, 92.). This may indicate the importance of God’s covenant with Abram in preserving the people of Israel.

In 15:12-16 we have the prediction that Israel will sojourn in another land, Egypt, before receiving the promised land. Also Abram is told that he will die prior to the return of the people in the fourth generation (15:15-16). The promise of the land was made to Abram personally in 15:7 but the confirmation speaks only of possession by his seed. In fact, it implies that he will die before the land is possessed. Perhaps this awareness of death prior to possession of the land stands behind his expectations according to Hebrews 11:18-16.

The smoking fire pot and flaming torch that pass between the pieces likely represent God. They call to mind God’s revelation of himself in fire in Exodus at the burning bush and at Sinai (See McKeown, THOTC, 93). The significance of passing through the pieces is indicated by Jeremiah 34:18: “And the men who transgressed my covenant and did not keep the terms of the covenant that they made before me, I will make them like the calf that they cut in two and passed between its parts” (Dempster, Dominion and Dynasty, NSBT, 80; Gentry and Wellum, Kingdom through Covenant, 250-56. I agree with Gentry, against Wenham and Mathews, that the elements of the covenant in this passage and Jeremiah are not bound to a particular time but persisted in their significance from the time of Abraham to Jeremiah). Notably, God has placed Abram in a deep sleep; God passes through the pieces himself. This is an unconditional or a royal grant covenant.

In this covenant, the Lord specifies the borders of the land. No longer is it simply “this land” (12:7) or “all the land that you see” (13:15). Now specific boundaries are set. The promised land will stretch from the river of Egypt, probably the Wadi el-Arish (In other places the term נַ֫חַל [translated brook by the ESV] is used instead of נָהָר. Some commentators therefore think that the eastern part of the Nile Delta is meant [cf. Waltke, 245]. However, since these borders are repeated elsewhere [Num. 34:5; Josh 15:4-47; 1 Kings 8:65; Isa. 27:12], it is most likely simply a variation in terminology [cf. Hamilton, NICOT, 1:438]), to the Euphrates River. The land is also designated by the peoples who lived there. Waltke holds that a purposeful discrepancy exists between the stated borders and the nations that Israel is said to conquer. “Since the geographic description is much larger than the ethnographic and the ethnographic matches Israel’s history but the geographic does not, the geographic is best regarded as an idealization” (Waltke, 245). First, the land of the Amorites stretched up to the Euphrates River (ABD, 1:199-200; P.E. Satterthwaite and D. W. Baker, “Nations of Canaan,” DOTP, 601-2. Milgrom says, “In the eighteenth-century Mari texts, Amurru is a territory and kingdom in central Syria. As such it continues in Egyptian and Mesopotamian sources of the fourteenth and thirteenth centuries when its boundaries are most clearly defined: from the Mediterranean to the Orontes and to Canaan on the south.” Milgrom, Numbers, JPSTC, 105. Though Milgrom thinks that Genesis 15 uses the term merely as an ethnic label for those living in Canaan, the evidence he cites indicates it could have a broader referent). The discrepancy Waltke posits does not exist. Second, the argument for idealization by analogy does not hold up. Waltke says the point is to highlight the land’s “spiritual significance,” which is greater than its physical significance just as the Jordan river is physically insignificant but spiritually significant to Christians. These are not parallel examples. The spiritual significance of the Jordan is never outlined in a covenant. One would think that a covenant document promising land would be the least likely place for borders to be merely ideal. Such an argument would certainly be rejected by interpreters of human covenants. Why take God’s covenant words any less seriously and straightforwardly?

In Solomon’s day Israel’s exercised brief control within these borders, but it was never complete nor long lasting. This points toward a future fulfillment of this promise. It may have been to avoid this conclusion that Waltke resorted to the expedient of claiming the boundaries were idealized (Kidner, TOTC, 125; Hamilton, NICOT, 1:438).

Land: Genesis 13

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Genesis 13 begins with a geographical reversal as Abram retraces his steps from Egypt back into the Promised Land. Verses 5-7 set the stage: Abram and Lot are dwelling in the land, and they have been blessed. But there is not room for both of them to dwell together. Verse 7 reminds the reader that the continued presence of the Canaanites and Perizzites contributed to this problem.

In verses 8-9 Abram demonstrates faith in God’s promise by offering Lot the choice of settling anywhere in the land. The land is still possessed by the Canaanites, but Abram speaks as if God’s promise is true and the land is his to give. Abram also shows faith that his generosity toward Lot won’t result in his loosing part of the land to him.

Verses 10-14 present Lot as a foil to Abram. Lot makes his choice based on sight, rather than based on faith. His choice places him on the very edge of the Promised Land, if not beyond it.

In verses 14-17 God expands on the land promise. The promise is now no longer simply to Abram’s seed―it is a promise to him personally. He is promised all the land that he can see. He is promised that this land will be his and his seed’s possession forever.

In verse 18 Abram is said to have settled by the oaks of Mamre. This location is near the only plot of the promised land that Abram will own in his lifetime (Gen. 23:17-18).

Land: Genesis 12

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The Abraham narrative begins with movement from one land, Ur of the Chaldeans (11:28) to another land, the land of Canaan (11:31). The first words we hear from God to Abraham are for him to leave his land and his family to go to another land (12:1).[1] Already the themes of land and seed are present. The fact that Abram travels with his father, Terah to Haran and remained there until Terah died (Acts 7:4)[2] may indicate a lack of obedience on Abram’s part.[3] Verse 4, however, indicates Abram’s obedience.

Preceding the obedience of verse 4 is a recitation of the promises of God to Abram. These promises are often summarized under the headings of land, seed, and blessing. These themes have their genesis in chapter 1 at the climax of the creation narrative. Genesis 1:28 identifies God’s words in 1:28-30 as a blessing. The blessing centers on seed (“be fruitful, and multiply”) and land (“fill the earth and subdue it”). When Adam and Eve sin the blessing is replaced with a curse (Gen. 3:17). The content of the judgment focuses on seed (3:16) and land (3:17). Therefore it should come as little surprise that God’s plan of redemption includes promises to Abraham regarding land, seed, and blessing.

The promises hang on a command regarding land and seed. Abraham is to leave his land and his family in order to receive God’s blessing. The land promise is not given in these opening verses, but it is hinted at by God’s promise to show Abram a land (12:1). It is also implied in the promise to make Abram a great nation (12:2). The term גוי may imply both people and land.[4]

The climax of God’s promise to Abraham is that in him “all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (12:3). Interestingly, all the land words in this chapter are אֶ֫רֶץ except in this verse where אֲדָמָה is used. The energies of the commentators is spent on determining whether נִבְרְכ֣וּ should be understood as passive or reflexive.[5] Little reflection is given to why the word אֲדָמָה is chosen over אֶ֫רֶץ. It could be free variation. Wenham notes that אֲדָמָה is used here and in 28:14 but that אֶ֫רֶץ is used when this promise is repeated in 26:4l 22:18; 18:18.[6] However, there may be an allusion back to Adam. All are cursed in Adam, but in Abraham all the families of אֲדָמָה shall be blessed.

Verse 4 testifies to Abram’s obedience to the Lord’s command. In verses 5-7 אֶ֫רֶץ occurs five times and in verses 8-9 the recurrence of geographical locations indicates that land is a major theme of 5-7. These verses reveal Abram’s entrance into the land and his travels through it from top to bottom in a survey of the land.[7]

And yet the land is clearly not yet Abram’s. In the first two mentions of land in verses 5-9, the land is identified as “the land of Canaan.” After noting that “Abram passed through the land to the place at Schechem,” Moses says, “At that time the Canaanites were in the land” (12:6). The reference to the oak of Moreh may be a reference to a place of Canaanite worship,[8] and its mention may be another means of driving the point home: Abram is a sojourner in this land.[9] It is in this context that God appears to Abram and for the first time explicitly promises the land to Abram’s seed. Abram responds by building an altar to the Lord. This may serve as a counterpoint to the oak of Moreh, and it reveals that Israelite possession of the land should displace pagan worship with the worship of Yahweh.

Verses 10-20 reveal that the path to fulfillment is not going to be straight. Already facing a barren wife (11:30), Abram now faces a barren land (12:10).[10] Abram does not respond to the challenge of the barren land by faith.[11] He leaves the land for Egypt, he places the seed promise in jeopardy (from a human perspective) by lying about Sarah, and as a result Abram is a curse to Pharaoh rather than a blessing.

[1] Abram’s obedience to God’s command does not merit the promises. His obedience is a testimony to his faith in God’s promises. Abraham’s later behavior in this chapter and God’s blessing of Abram despite his failures is a testimony that Abram is blessed because of God’s grace and not because of his goodness.

[2] On ways to harmonize Genesis 11:32 with Acts 7:4, see Hamilton, 1:367-68; Waltke, 201.

[3] Waltke, 201; Kidner, 111.

[4] Wenham, 1:275; Hamilton, 1:371-72; Mathews, 2:112; Currid, 252; Gentry & Wellum, Kingdom through Covenant, 235.

[5] Conservative commentators favor the passive. Kidner, TOTC, 114; Wenham,  1:277-78; Hamilton,  1:375; Mathews, 2:117.

[6] Wenham, 1:278.

[7] Wenham, 1:283; Hamilton, 1:379; cf. Sailhamer, EBC, 112.

[8] See Wenham, 1:279. This oak is identified by name in Deuteronomy 11:30 and seems to be mentioned in Genesis 35:4; Joshua 24:26; and Judges 9:6, 37.

[9] Mathew Henry emphasized the sojourning nature of Abram in these verses. Commentary on the Whole Bible, 35.

[10] Currid, 1:58.

[11] It is difficult to determine whether Abram’s departure because of the famine was acceptable or indicated a lack of faith. On the one hand there are many parallels between this passage and the divinely ordained sojourn of the people of Israel from Jacob to Moses: famine results in the emigration to Egypt, plagues are visited on Pharaoh by God, Abraham/the people leave with great wealth from Egypt. On the other hand, Abraham is not recorded here as leaving the land with a word from the Lord. In a context in which Abram is told by God to go to the land and in which his faith is tested, and in which he in other matters is showing a lack of faith, a negative reading seems most likely.