Singing Jehoshaphat (II Chronicles 20:21)

Whose army went into battle singing? Judah’s, under King Jehoshaphat (II Chronicles 20:21)

King Jehoshaphat becomes the fourth king of Judah when he succeeds his father Asa (I Kings 15:23-24; II Chronicles 17:1). He reigns for twenty-five years (I Kings 22:42; II Chronicles 20:31) and is remembered as one of the few kings faithful to God, the Old Testament benchmark for royals (I Kings 22:43; II Chronicles 17:3-6).

Jehoshaphat is far more prominent in Chronicles, where he is featured in four chapters (II Chronicles 17:1-20:37), than Kings, which devotes only ten verses to his reign (I Kings 22:41-50).

Brian E. Kelly observes:

Jehoshaphat plays a much more extensive and important role in Chronicles than in Kings, where his reign is described only briefly (I Kings 22:41-50) and he is a secondary figure compared to Ahab (cf. I Kings 22:1-38; II Kings 3:4-27). (Kelly, Retribution and Eschatology in Chronicles, 98)

The last notable event of Jehosphat’s reign occurs when an eastern coalition forms primed to invade Judah. This assailing confederation is comprised of Moabites, Ammonites and Meunites (II Chronicles 20:1). Naturally alarmed in the face of daunting odds (II Chronicles 20:3), Jehoshaphat responds radically: He prays, declares a national fast and assembles his country (II Chronicles 20:3-13). Prayer is Jehoshaphat’s first, not last, resort.

After being encouraged by a prophecy assuring that Judah would attain victory without having to fight (II Chronicles 20:14-17), Jehoshaphat consults his constituents and the army marches to the would-be battlefield praising God (II Chronicles 20:18-21). The king implores the people, “Put your trust in the Lord your God and you will be established. Put your trust in His prophets and succeed” (II Chronicles 20:20 NASB).

Paul K. Hooker (b. 1953) interprets:

King and people assemble at Tekoa, east of Jerusalem in the Judahite highlands. As they assemble, Jehoshaphat gives them what in other situations might have been battle instructions. Here, however, we have...religious admonition: “Believe in the LORD your God and you will be established [II Chronicles 20:20].” One final time, the Chronicler returns to the theme of trust. The language here is reminiscent of Isaiah 7:9: “If you do not stand firm in faith, you shall not stand at all” (the verb translated “stand firm” in Isaiah is the same as that translated “be established” here). The link between faith and victory is explicit: Belief, not strength of arms, is the key to the deliverance of God. (Hooker, First and Second Chronicles (Westminster Bible Companion), 213)

Leslie Allen (b. 1935) concurs:

Jehoshaphat’s battle speech on the morrow places a premium on faith. It echoes the message of Isaiah in a similar context of military threat , a message rendered more effectively by its Hebrew wordplay: “Have firm faith, or you will not stand firm” (Isaiah 7:9 NEB). In expression of such faith orders are given for anticipatory praise to be sung afresh, as on the day before in the temple precincts. The praise looks forward to a manifestation of God’s “steadfast love” (RSV), promised “forever” (II Chronicles 20:21) and so for today. The praise here replaces the shout associated with Holy War (see Judges 7:20; II Chronicles 13:15). It accentuates the fact that the people’s part was not to fight but to be spectators of the divine defeat of the foe, in accord with the prophet’s promise (II Chronicles 20:15, 17). (Allen, 1, 2 Chronicles (Mastering the Old Testament), 308)

Jehoshaphat’s faith has blossomed. J.G. McConville (b. 1951) charts:

The Jehoshaphat of II Chronicles 20:20 is one who has come from his initial fear (II Chronicles 20:3) to a new confidence that God is for him. His exhortation to Judah, “Believe in the Lord your God and you will be established (II Chronicles 20:20), is similar to the prophet Isaiah’s appeal to Ahaz (Isaiah 7:9). The thought may be paraphrased. Trust in the Lord your God, and you will find him trustworthy. There is in the exhortation a call to commitment. The trustworthiness of the Lord cannot be known until one begins to make decisions on the basis of his promises, staking wealth and welfare on the outcome—just as it is impossible to know certainly that a chair will bear one’s weight without actually sitting on it. (McConville, I & II Chronicles (The Daily Study Bible Series), 195)

As David had done in preparing the ark of the covenant (I Chronicles 13:1), the monarch collaborates rather than dictates. Sara Japhet (b. 1934) comments:

The Chronicler’s familiar ‘democratizing’ tendency...with its constant reference to the active participation of the people...is epitomized, with the king actually taking counsel with the people in a matter of military tactics, or cultic activity, ordinarily defined as a kingly prerogative. After having been made his full partners in his initiative and responsibility, his subjects will deservedly share the reward of victory. (Japhet, I and II Chronicles: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 797)

The people collectively resolve to praise God while entering battle.

When he [Jehoshaphat] had consulted with the people, he appointed those who sang to the Lord and those who praised Him in holy attire, as they went out before the army and said, “Give thanks to the Lord, for His lovingkindness is everlasting.” (II Chronicles 20:21 NASB)

Jehoshaphat appoints a choir to lead the nation onto the battlefield. Frederick J. Mabie (b. 1965) surmises:

The men appointed by Jehoshaphat to lead singing to God and praise for the “splendor of his holiness” (II Chronicles 20:21) are presumably Levites (on the musical service of Levites, cf. I Chronicles 6:31-48, 23:2-32, 25:1-7). Going to battle in song is found in several key battles of faith in the Old Testament and seems to underscore an especially intentional focus on God and his strength (cf. Joshua 6:1-21; II Chronicles 13:3-20). (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b.1947], 1 Chronicles–Job (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary), 245)

Singing en route to battle is not entirely unique in the annals of the Old Testament (Joshua 6:4-20; Judges 7:18-20; II Chronicles 13:12; Psalm 47:5) and the story also has extra-biblical parallels. Kenneth C. Way (b. 1975) compares:

This account shares interesting similarities to the Old Aramaic memorial stela of Zakkur (The Context of Scripture 2.35:155), king of Hamath, who also faced a coalition of enemy nations, cried out to his god, and received a similar divine response by means of cultic personnel...The date of the events in II Chronicles 20 is difficult to determine, but an early setting in Jehoshaphat’s reign seems likely. References to the “terror of God” being upon Judah’s enemies and to Judah enjoying a period of peace both occur at the end of this episode and in a passage describing the early events of Jehoshaphat’s reign (II Chronicles 17:10, 20:29-30) (see Gary N. Knoppers [b. 1956] 1991, 518). Furthermore, the mention of the “new court” of the temple (II Chronicles 20:5) may hint that the repairs made by his father, Asa, were relatively recent II Chronicles 15:8]. (Bill T. Arnold [b. 1955] and H.G.M. Williamson [b. 1947], Dictionary of the Old Testament: Historical Books, 532-33)

In the midst of crisis, the nation sings the opening line to the 136th Psalm (II Chronicles 20:21; Psalm 136:1), a recurring refrain in Chronicles (I Chronicles 16:34; II Chronicles 5:13, 7:3, 20:21). Martin J. Selman (1947-2004) chronicles:

Both the form and content of this song of praise are based on the use of psalms in temple worship. The appointed ‘musicians’...were Levites (cf. I Chronicles 6:31-32, 25:1-31), their song was taken from Chronicles’ favorite psalm (Psalm 136:1; cf. I Chronicles 16:34; II Chronicles 5:13, 7:3) and the phrase the splendour of his holiness...is found elsewhere only in the Psalms (Psalm 29:2, 96:9; I Chronicles 16:29). The outstanding feature, however, is that as they began to sing and praise (II Chronicles 20:22), the Lord started the battle. There can be no clearer indication that this was neither an ordinary battle nor a traditional holy war, but Yahweh’s war in which he acted on his own. In that sense, it anticipates Jesus’ victory on the cross, though that was accompanied by silence rather than singing. (Selman, 2 Chronicles (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries), 428)

The battle becomes an opportunity for worship. Winfried Corduan (b. 1949) comments:

The same spirit of praise continued as Jehoshaphat and his army set out for the Judean desert the next morning. As the troops left Jerusalem, the king turned the military mission into a “singspiration.” He reassured everyone of God’s promise and appointed song leaders to lead the soldiers in praise choruses. Soon everyone joined in the familiar tune, Give thanks to the LORD, for his love endures forever. This anthem was associated with the occasions when David and then Solomon moved the ark of the covenant (I Chronicles 16:41; II Chronicles 5:13). God was on the march again! (Corduan, I & II Chronicles (Holman Old Testament Commentary), 277)

Steven S. Tuell (b. 1956) determines:

The advance of Jehoshaphat’s host is more a liturgical procession than a military maneuver. (Tuell, First and Second Chronicles (Interpretation: a Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 183)

Andrew E. Hill (b. 1952) agrees:

H.G.M. Williamson [b. 1947], almost humorously, has commented that the battle cry has been replaced by the Levitical chorale. The report of an army going into battle singing the praises of God is unique in the Bible, although music accompanies the appearance of the divine warrior when he executes judgment on the earth (Psalm 47, 96, 98). The event gives new meaning to the psalmist’s declaration that God’s “pleasure is not in the strength of the horse, not his delight in the legs of a man; the LORD delights in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love” (Psalm 147:10-11). (Hill, 1 and 2 Chronicles (The NIV Application Commentary), 491)

The nation of Judah praises God before victory has been secured. John C. Endres (b. 1946) remarks:

Levites arise to praise God with a very loud voice, which they are appointed to do, but here it seems premature, for the victory is still in the future. Jehoshaphat then rises and delivers a speech that sounds like a sermon. Believe God and you will be set firm (II Chronicles 20:20)...The Chronicler gives a theological commentary on this event: Jehoshaphat faces a test of faith, just as Ahaz faced a test of faith when Isaiah uttered the word to him. (Endres, First and Second Chronicles (New Collegeville Bible Commentary), 103)

Jehoshaphat passes the test. Victor P. Hamilton (b. 1941) favorably contrasts Jehoshaphat with his father, Asa:

When attacked by King Baasha of Israel, Asa goes the alliance route, and as a result is chided by a prophet (II Chronicles 16:7-8). Asa’s sad story is one of a shift from trust in God to trust in human power, and the tragic consequences that befall...The opposite of Asa’s latter strategy is that of Jehoshaphat when he is attacked by a military coalition (II Chronicles 20:1-30). The text records absolutely no military response by Jehoshaphat and his soldiers. Instead, they engage in liturgical acts like singing and praying, and Yahweh defeats the enemy (“As they began to sing and praise, the Lord set to ambush against the Ammonites...so that they were routed” [II Chronicles 20:22]). Philip R. Davies [b. 1945] (1992: 45) captures well the scene here: “If your cause is just and you are faithful to your deity (and if that deity is YHWH), you will not need an army to protect you. Spend your defense budget on hymnbooks and musical training for your brass band! The only army you need is the Salvation Army.” (Hamilton, Handbook on the Historical Books: Joshua, Judges, Ruth, Samuel, Kings, Chronicles, Ezra-Nehemiah, Esther , 492-93)

Jehoshaphat responds to the disastrous events with a sign of trust and his faith is rewarded. As the Lord had promised, Judah never even engages in battle. The tenuous alliance disbands as the opposition turns on one another (II Chronicles 20:22-25).

Andrew E. Hill (b. 1952) explains:

Whether God terrifies the coalition armies with the appearance of his heavenly army (as in II Samuel 5:24; II Kings 7:5-7) or sends a spirit of confusion and mistrust among the allies (as in Judges 7:22; II Kings 3:23) is unclear. What is clear is that God stirs the Transjordan armies into a spirit of frenzied self-destruction (II Chronicles 20:22-23). First, the armies of Moab and Ammon slaughter the soldiers from Seir, perhaps out of distrust (II Chronicles 20:23a). Then the Moabites and the Ammonites destroy each other so that no one escapes (II Chronicles 20:23b-24a). (Hill, 1 and 2 Chronicles (The NIV Application Commentary), 492)

Through some undisclosed mechanism God delivers Judah and the conflict is remembered as one of Jehoshaphat’s greatest triumphs.

Regardless of what had happened in the battle, in choosing to praise God, Jehosphapat has already scored a far more important victory: His faith has been demonstrated. What begins as an invasion story evolves into a classic story of faith.

Why does Jehoshaphat dismiss military strategy in favor of divine consultation? What leaders are you familiar with who have prayed publicly when facing a national crisis? What armies have gone into battle singing? Is there ever an inappropriate time to worship? Did the singing in any way trigger the discord between Judah’s adversaries? When have you not had to fight a seemingly inevitable battle? Do you truly believe that God is for you? When have you praised God before victory has been secured?

While most contemporary believers will not be surrounded by armies from multiple nations, Jehoshaphat sets a precedent. Worship is a proper response in the face of crisis and worshiping God can be done in the midst of catastrophe.

Neil T. Anderson (b. 1942) and Rich Miller (b. 1954) apply:

In response to the word of God, all the people worshiped God (II Chronicles 20:18). Worship became their battle plan to defeat the enemy. “And when he [Jehoshaphat] had consulted with the people, he appointed those who sang to the LORD and those who praised Him in holy attire, as they went out before the army and said, “Give thanks to the LORD, for His lovingkindness is everlasting.’ And when they began singing and praising, the LORD set ambushes against the sons of Ammon, Moab, and Mount Seir, who had come against Judah so they were routed” (II Chronicles 20:21-22)...Worship brings to our minds the awareness of God’s presence and fear flees! When the first hint of fear or anxiety comes into your mind, worship God. (Anderson and Miller, Freedom from Fear: Overcoming Worry and Anxiety, 274)

Worship reminds us that we are never alone. This is especially beneficial at times when we feel abandoned. Creflo A. Dollar (b. 1962) advises:

When you are faced with a life-and-death crisis, the most important thing you can remind yourself is that God’s mercy endures forever. It will stir your faith. It will move to tap in to the power of praise. (Dollar, In the Presence of God: Find Answers to the Challenges of Life)

Worship makes us keenly aware of God’s presence. Anthony De Mello (1931-1987) connects:

When we praise God for his goodness and for the good things he has given to us and to others, our hearts become lightsome and joyous...There are few forms of prayer so effective for giving you the sense that you are loved by God, or for lifting depressed spirits and overcoming temptation. Psalm 8 says, “You have established praise to destroy the enemy and avenger [Psalm 8:2],” and it was the custom among the Jews to march out into battle singing praises to the Lord. This was considered a mighty weapon for defeating the foe. (De Mello, Contact with God, 116)

Though often neglected, praising God is a useful tactic when facing trials.

How do you respond to adversity? Do you turn toward God or away from God? Do you blame or praise? How do you enter into battle?

“This is not the time to panic, this is the time to praise!” - Cynthia A. Patterson (b. 1964), It Had to Happen: Understanding that Everything You Go Through in Life is for God’s Purpose

It’s All in the Hands (Exodus 17:9-13)

What did Moses do during the battle of Rephidim? Stayed on top of a hill holding up his hands with the rod of God in them (Exodus 17:9-12)

While wandering in the wilderness, Israel not only faces challenges from nature (Exodus 16:1-8, 9-36, 17:1-7) but also from new military rivals. The nascent nation’s first battle comes when the Amalekites ambush them at Rephidim (Exodus 17:8).

Presumably between gradual attacks, Moses instructs Joshua to piece together a makeshift army with the assurance that he would remain perched atop a hill holding the staff of God (Exodus 17:9). The Bible records that Moses’ posture was the deciding factor in a seesaw daylong battle (Exodus 17:11).

So it came about when Moses held his hand up, that Israel prevailed, and when he let his hand down, Amalek prevailed. (Exodus 17:11 NASB)

To ensure that Moses’ hands remain raised, he is propped up on a stone and realizing that six hands are better than two, Aaron and Hur hold his hands prostrate (Exodus 17:12). Israel wins the battle (Exodus 17:13).

The narrator leaves much to the imagination. Though both will play prominent roles later in the Exodus story, Joshua and Hur enter the biblical text for the first time with no introduction. The Amalekites also appear as a people for the first time (Genesis 14:7, 36:12). Not only is no introduction given them but no reason is given for their assault.

John Goldingay (b. 1942) speculates:

Exodus gives no reason for the attack. Perhaps they thought they could appropriate the Israelites’ flocks and herds. Living in the wilderness south of Canaan, perhaps they felt threatened by the Israelites’ advancing their way. Greed, resentment, and fear have often fueled anti-Semitism. But Exodus gives no reason and this underlines the link between the mystery of hostility to Israel and the Jewish people that has been a recurrent aspect of Israelite and Jewish experience. (Goldingay, Exodus and Leviticus for Everyone, 73)

The Amalekites, presumed to be a hostile nomadic tribe, are traditional enemies of Israel and they simply enter the story donned in their customary black hats (Judges 6:3-4; I Samuel 15:1-9, 27:8). They serve almost as stock characters in the Bible and are not referenced outside of it. The Israelites would later remember the attack as a cowardly affront to a vulnerable people (Deuteronomy 25:17-18). In appearing from seemingly out of nowhere, the text captures the unexpectedness of the attack felt by the original victims.

Perhaps the passage’s most glaring omission is that no explanation is given as to how Moses’ flagging equates to victory. The reader is left to speculate as to what he is doing or saying while raising his arms and why he is positioned high above the battlefield.

John I. Durham (b. 1933) notes that Moses’ position is conducive to his activity:

The reason for Moses’ position on the brow of the hill can be seen in what he does during the battle. Moses lifted his hands, in symbol of the power of Yahweh upon the fighting men of Israel, surely, but in some miraculous way Moses’ upraised hands became also conductors of that power. (Durham, Exodus (Word Biblical Commentary, Vol. 3), 236)

Military historian Richard A. Gabriel (b. 1942) does not find Moses’ isolation irregular for a military commander:

Here we see the ancient dictum that commanders must be seen by their soldiers to be effective. Egyptian pharaohs were always portrayed as leading their troops in battle, as was Alexander. Caesar, it was said, wore a red cloak so his men could easily identify him during battle, and both George S. Patton (who seriously contemplated wearing a red cloak!) and Irwin Rommel were both known for their presence on the battlefield in plain sight of their soldiers. (Gabriel, The Military History of Ancient Israel, 82)

The real question is not Moses’ placement but what his actions symbolize -what is he doing with his hands? Many explanations have been posited.

Brevard S. Childs (1923-2007) explicates:

Both Jewish and Christian commentators have been quick to assume that Moses’s stance was that of prayer. What else would he be doing? However, there is no indication whatever in the text which would confirm this. No words are spoken, but the battle is decided simply by the raising and lowering of his hands. The same effect results from Moses’ stance even when his weary arms are physically supported by others. Hugo Gressmann [1877-1927] and Georg Beer [1865-1946] have described the scene as magical, with Moses playing the role of cult magician. Additional parallels from the Ancient Near East have been suggested...Without discussing at length the validity of these extra-biblical parallels, certainly the Old Testament offers the closest parallel in the figure of Balaam (Numbers 22:1ff). He is hired to curse Israel, and the point of the narrative turns on the automatic effect of a curse (or a blessing) which, once it has been unleashed, continues relentlessly on its course. In Exodus 17 the hands are the instruments of mediating power, as is common throughout the Ancient Near East...This amoral element of the unleashing of power through an activity or a stance is still reflected in the story. Nor can it be rationalized away, as already in the Mekilta, by assuming that Moses’ role was essentially psychological. His uplifted hands encouraged the Israelites to exert themselves fully, whereas without the encouragement they slackened in battle. (Childs, The Book of Exodus: A Critical, Theological Commentary (The Old Testament Library), 314-15)

Nahum M. Sarna (1923-2005) admits:

The significance of this gesture is unclear. The hand, often the symbol of action and power, is also the instrument of mediation. The expression “the laying on of the hands” exemplifies this idea. Moses’ action might therefore be interpreted as a sort of mysterious focusing of super natural power on Israel. If so, it is noteworthy that Moses is here presented as being subject to ordinary human frailties, in possession of no superhuman or innate magical powers. Another interpretation, highly plausible, is that of Rashbam, according to which Moses held up a standard bearing some conspicuous symbol that signified the presence of God in the Israelite camp. (Sarna, The JPS Torah Commentary: Exodus, 95)

Peter Enns (b. 1961) summarizes:

Some commentaries suggest this is some sort of “magical” feat” performed by Moses, perhaps some power emanating from the staff. Others assign to Moses’ gesture a psychological explanation, that his raised hands are a sign of encouragement to the troops. Neither explanation seems satisfying...But can a better explanation be found?... No proposed explanation is problem-free. This problem is a classic example of what interpreters run into when attempting to explain a cryptic text. (Enns, Exodus (The NIV Application Commentary), 348)

Moses has raised his hands previously to produce miraculous results but not for an extended period (Exodus 9:22, 10:12, 14:16). Many have looked to the staff for answers as it is now called the “staff of God”, a term that has not been used since the item’s introduction in Exodus 4:20.

J. Gerald Janzen (b. 1932) describes:

Up to this point Moses’ use of the staff has been a simple matter of raising it and accomplishing the result, whether sign, plague, parting of the waters, or water from the rock. But this time the struggle is drawn out, to the point where Moses becomes so tired that from time to time he has to lower his arms...Interestingly...when Moses gets tired, the help does not come directly from God, but through Aaron and Hur, as each one supports one of Moses’s arms after seating him on a stone. What is this symbolism, of Moses seated on a stone, holding up his and God’s staff, and supported on both sides by Aaron and Hur? (Janzen, Exodus (Westminster Bible Companion), 122)

As Moses intervenes for the people and Aaron and Hur raise Moses’ hands, not their own, it is not surprising that many interpreters have seen this passage as an image of intercessory prayer.

Maxie D. Dunnam (b. 1934) comments:

The soldiers on the field of battle were not determining the issue of victory by themselves, but the intercessors on the mountain were playing an integral role. See that beautiful picture of those intercessors on the mountain in your imagination?...It’s a stirring picture—a picture of the Lord’s intercessor. (Dunnam, Exodus (Mastering the Old Testament), 214)

Many popular books on prayer prominently feature this story. In Too Busy Not To Pray, Bill Hybels (b. 1951) writes:

More than any other biblical passage, one story in the Old Testament has persuaded me that prayer yields significant results. It is found in Exodus 17:8-13...Moses stretches his arms toward heaven again and brings the matter to the Lord...Moses discovered that day that God’s prevailing power is released through prayer. (Hybels, Too Busy Not To Pray, 18-19)

In his book on intercessory prayer, Dutch Sheets (b. 1954) analyzes:

The victory was not decided by the strength or power of Israel’s army. If this had been the case, they would not have faltered when the staff was lowered. Nor was it a morale thing – they weren’t watching Moses for inspiration while in hand-to-hand conflict! An unseen battle in the heavenlies actually decided the outcome on the battlefield. And when the rod, representing the rule or authority of God, was lifted by the authorized leader of Israel, Joshua and the army prevailed. In other words, it was not power on the battlefield – though it was necessary – that was the deciding factor, but authority on the mountain. Authority is the key issue; power never had been. (Sheets, Intercessory Prayer: How God Can Use Your Prayers to Move Heaven and Earth, 190)

While the mechanics of how Moses’ arms correlated to victory are speculative, the text is clear that they did. In Israel’s first battle as a nation, the focus is on the hill, not the battlefield. The direction off stage upstages the actors on the stage. In modern sports terms, the camera is focused on the fans changing their posture or switching to their rally caps as it is the deciding factor in the contest. No exploits on the battlefield are remembered; only the result is recorded: victory.

How long can you hold up your arms? What would a national leader in Moses’ era have been expected to do during battle? Who is most responsible for the Israelites’ victory at Rephidim? Whose part in the story do you most relate to: the warriors, Aaron/Hur, Moses, Joshua? Who can you prop up spiritually when they are weakened? Who is praying for you? Where is God in this story?

God is not explicitly involved in this text. William H.C. Propp (b. 1957) acknowledges:

Unlike the previous wilderness episodes, Moses responds to the crisis without seeking divine instructions, at least so far as we are told. But he gives God proper credit in the end. (Propp, Exodus 1-18: A New Translation with Notes and Comments (Anchor Bible), 617)

Terence E. Fretheim (b. 1936) adds:

After Amalek starts the battle, the initiative for the defense of Israel is taken entirely by Moses, demonstrating the leadership role he has assumed. God does not become the subject of a sentence until Exodus 17:14 but is not uninvolved in the prior verses. (Fretheim, Exodus (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 192)

Despite not being referenced categorically, in Moses’ actions, there is little doubt that the battle is God’s. Douglas K. Stuart (b. 1943) comments:

Exodus 17:11 does not teach the efficacy of “prayer without ceasing” but rather the fact that Israelite holy war was God’s war. God reinforced this in the consciousness of Moses, Aaron, and Hur as well as the Israelite army by correlating the position of the staff with the fortunes of the army. It was important that the Israelites understand unmistakably that the only reason they could win against the Amalekites was that God was fighting for them, giving them the victory. The staff functioned in the case of this battle just as it had in the case of the plagues. As long as the staff of God was raised high, just as in the miraculous plagues and the miracle of the water from the rock immediately preceding, God’s decisive role was properly acknowledged symbolically and the army prevailed. When the staff was lowered (because Moses grew tired, as Exodus 17:12 makes explicit), “the Amalekites were winning.” Thus the staff portrayed God’s sovereignty in the consequences of battle. (Stuart, Exodus (The New American Commentary, Vol. 2), 398)

Thomas B. Dozeman (b. 1952) concludes:

The circumstances indicate that the power to wage holy war resides in the magical staff of God, not in Moses, and certainly not in Joshua or the Israelite warriors. The staff of God, is like a lightning rod at the summit of the hill channeling power down to the Israelites in the battle. When the antenna is down, the power ceases. The eventual weakness of Moses even to raise his arms underscores further that the power in the battle does not reside with him but with God. (Dozeman, Exodus (Eerdmans Critical Commentary), 395)

Victory did not rest in Moses’ hands, but rather in the hands that they represented.

If Moses is a conduit of God’s power, why is he himself weakened in channeling it (Exodus 17:12; Mark 5:30)? Does God still decide wars today? What do you need to relinquish and place into God’s hands?

“I have held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all; but whatever I have placed in God's hands, that I still possess.” - Martin Luther (1483-1546)

A Time to Hate? (Ecclesiastes 3:8)

Complete: “A time to love, ___________________.” And a time to hate (Ecclesiastes 3:8)

After being put into lyrics by Pete Seeger (b. 1919) and popularized in 1965 by The Byrds in the song “Turn! Turn! Turn! (to Everything There is a Season)”, the third chapter of Ecclesiastes is the most recognizable portion of the book. The famous poem, whose author is commonly referred to as Qoheleth, presents a series of opposites unified by the thought of there being a time for each. The unit begins with birth/death and ends speaking of war/peace.

Sidney Greidanus (b. 1935) determines:

The poem uses the word “time” 28 times (4×7), distributed over 14 lines (2×7). Since 7 is the number of completeness (think of the seven days of creation), the author, without naming all possible times, intends to depict the complete number of different times humans may encounter in their lifetime. This is also evident from the first pair, birth and death, which “marks the extreme limits of human existence itself and so by anticipation defines the scope of the whole list.” (Greidanus, Preaching Christ from Ecclesiastes: Foundations for Expository Sermons, 72)

The closing stanza uses a word often frowned upon - hate.

A time to love and a time to hate; A time for war and a time for peace. (Ecclesiastes 3:8 NASB)

The Hebrew sane’ conveys the same intensity as the English “hate” as the term is meant to be contrasted with “love”. The text moves from these personal feelings to the socio-political conditions that they produce, peace and hate.

James L. Crenshaw (b. 1934) sees the poem’s ending as bringing it full circle:

The final pair of opposites concentrates on human emotions, on the personal level and in the wider sphere of international relations. After “there is a time to love and a time to hate” one expects the sequence to read “a time to make peace and a time to wage war.” Qohelet varies the poem’s structure and its syntax, and in doing so he reaches a forceful conclusion. The correspondence between the first infinitive of each pair disappears in this verse, as do the infinitives in the last half verse. The first infinitive (love) is parallel with the last noun (peace), and the second infinitive (hate) corresponds to the third item, the noun (war). The result is a chiastic structure for the whole poem (birth/death: war/peace), and in Ecclesiastes 3:8 taken alone (love/hate: war/peace). (Crenshaw, Ecclesiastes: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 96)

Regarding war and peace, Michael V. Fox (b. 1940) notes that, “According to the Midrash, this pair sums up several of the others, namely uprooting/planting, seeking/losing, tearing down/building up, slaying/healing, ripping/sewing, and hating/loving (Midrash Koheleth Rabbah) (Fox, Ecclesiastes (The JPS Bible Commentary), 22).”

Tremper Longman III (b. 1952) asserts that, “It is important to emphasize that the poem does not advocate these emotions/states/actions, but simply describes them as parts of the full spectrum of human experience (Longman, The Book of Ecclesiastes (New International Commentary on the Old Testament), 117).”

Duane A. Garrett (b. 1953) concurs:

The text is a masterpiece of wisdom poetry. J.A. Loader [b. 1945] observes that the verses move back and forth among desirable and undesirable aspects of life, and he correctly notes that the book is not telling the reader how to attain the former and avoid the latter. Nevertheless, he like others, wrongly supposes that the point of this text is that an arbitrary deity manipulates human affairs and that the only appropriate response is resignation to fate. Ecclesiastes is not concerned about questions of “cyclic” verses “linear” time. These verses concern not divine providence or abstract notions of time but human mortality...The poem concerns life “under heaven.” It is not so much a theological statement as an observation on human life in the human world. (Garrett, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs (New American Commentary), 297-298)

Perhaps counterintuitively, there are no Bible passages which condemn war and no one doubts war’s reality. Leonard S. Kravitz (b. 1928) and Kerry M. Olitzky (b. 1954) lament:

Much of human history has shown that the time for love is short and the time of hate much too long. As for war, it is still an unfortunately attractive means for settling disputes. Peace is the ideal to be hoped for. (Kravitz and Olitzky, Kohelet: A Modern Commentary on Ecclesiastes, 25)

Is hatred ever acceptable? If so, when is it time to hate?

For Kathleen A. Farmer (b. 1943), the determining factor in deciding whether it is a time for love or hate is context:

It would be easy to conclude from the bulk of proverbial wisdom that some forms of behavior are inherently evil and are never appropriate. But Qohelet makes a radically different claim. He says that circumstances determine whether a given action is good or bad. Even war and hate might be appropriate in certain contexts. Like the wise who listed totally opposite pieces of advice one after another in Proverbs 26:4-5, Qohelet implies that a given action can be either right or wrong, depending on what else is going on when it is done. (Farmer, Who Knows What is Good?: A Commentary on the Books of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes (International Theological Commentary), 161)

William P. Brown (b. 1958) reminds, “Qoheleth’s vision of time does not stray far from the tenets of conventional wisdom, whose message frequently is not so much ‘know thyself’ as ‘know the time’ (Brown, Ecclesiastes (Interpretation: a Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 41).”

Craig G. Bartholomew (b. 1961) asserts that hatred is not inherently wrong:

Hate need not imply something wrong and sinful; in Deuteronomy 12:31, for example, God is referred to as “hating” the ways in which the Canaanites worshiped their gods, and the example is given of child sacrifice. (Bartholomew, Ecclesiastes (Baker Commentary on the Old Testament Wisdom and Psalms), 165)

Similarly, Philip Graham Ryken (b. 1966) deduces that hatred cannot be evil in and of itself as God hates:

God is not either/or; he is both/and, depending on what time it is. According to God’s schedule, there is both “a time to love, and a time to hate.”...many people like to think of God as love without considering the reality of his wrath. But the hatred of God is one of his perfections. It is right and good for God to oppose every wicked deed and to bring evil to judgment. We see this is the Second Commandment, where the holy God tells us that he will hate idolatry to the third and fourth generation, while at the same time showing love to a thousand generations of people who love and keep his commandments (see Exodus 20:4-6). We also see it in Proverbs, where Solomon tells us seven things that the Lord hates...(Proverbs 6:17-19). (Ryken, Ecclesiastes: Why Everything Matters (Preaching the Word), 82)

As to what the Christian is to hate, Douglas B. Miller (b. 1955) claims that evil should be both hated and battled:

There are things that followers of Jesus should hate (what is evil, Psalm 97:10; Proverbs 8:13; Amos 5:15), and there is a certain kind of warfare that should be engaged (Ephesians 6:10-17). The New Testament writers do not spiritualize the issue but take a position of the tactics of this battle; evil is to be overcome with good by using divine weapons (Romans 12:20-21; Ephesians 6:10-18). (Miller, Ecclesiastes (Believers Church Bible Commentary), 80)

The key is hating what God hates, a sticky predicament as, in deciding, one must assume the will of God. Daniel J. Treier (b. 1972) analyzes:

Ecclesiastes 3:8 addresses emotions and their larger social consequences...the verse could seem morally jarring. Even if one grants the necessity of war in a fallen world, in light of occasionally justified killing (→Ecclesiastes 3:3), what about hate? The text does not specify other people as the object, while the rest of scripture does suggest that hate is appropriate with respect to sin...Still in context, the hatred is not violent emotion leading to vicious behavior; to the contrary, it is personal, prayerful alignment with the will of God in judgment. The only sense in which we properly hate the wicked involves prayerfully anticipating judgment in God’s time and refusing to cavort with God’s enemies as if we were simply friends and their opposition to God were no barrier between us. It is never appropriate to hate God’s image-bearers in themselves and as such, or to appoint ourselves as their moral superiors aside from divine grace. But it is necessary to hate evil in such a way that those persistently characterized by opposition to God leave us distraught until we take into account the end of their behavior (Psalm 73:17, 27). (Trier, Proverbs & Ecclesiastes (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 154)

Jill Briscoe (b. 1934) sees a correlation between hate and love:

We know there is always a time to love, but is there ever a time to hate? I believe there is a legitimate case for hating whatever it is that spoils love...There is definitely a time to hate that which destroys love. If we hate sin enough, we might be motivated to seek God’s help to turn from it...Yes, there is a time to hate. The problem comes when our love does not contain the element of hatred. False love allows anyone to do anything to anybody regardless of the consequences. False love even loves what God hates!...True love hates what spoils it. (Briscoe, The One Year Book of Devotions for Women, 125)

David George Moore (b. 1958) also lauds a connection between hate and love, advising that even the Christian’s hate should be rooted in love:

Love is a defining character quality of the Christian. The believer is to love his neighbor as himself (Matthew 22:39). He is even commanded to love his enemies (Matthew 5:43-44). But love is more than silly sentimentalism. In our therapeutic age, we must remember that it is not antithetical to the Christian virtue of love to show anger (see Ephesians 4:26). When Jesus cleansed the temple (John 2), he did not stop being a loving God. Rather, the manifestation of his love took on a different look. In the same way, our willingness to hate at times is a manifestation of love. If we do not get angry at sin and its effects, do we really know the full truth about God’s love? (Moore and Daniel L. Akin [b. 1957], Ecclesiastes, Songs of Songs (Holman Old Testament Commentary), 42)

How important is context in determining the appropriate response to a given situation? What is the relationship between love and hate? Is hate the opposite of love? When and what should we hate? Is it ever appropriate to hate another human being, hating the sinner as well as the sin?

“You can safely assume that you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.” - Anne Lamott (b. 1954), Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life, p. 22

Agag: From King to Pawn (I Samuel 15)

Whose life did King Saul spare even after he was told to destroy him and all his people? King Agag

During the Exodus, as the Israelites journeyed from Egypt into the Promised Land, they faced stern resistance from the Amalekites (Exodus 17:8-16; Deuteronomy 25:17-19), descendants of Esau (Genesis 36:12; I Chronicles 1:36). Years later, the prophet Samuel informs king Saul that God has decided to repay the Amalekites for their opposition during Israel’s march to independence (I Samuel 15:1-2). The punishment was harsh - the Amalekites were to be eradicated (I Samuel 15:3).

“Now go and strike Amalek and utterly destroy all that he has, and do not spare him; but put to death both man and woman, child and infant, ox and sheep, camel and donkey.’” (I Samuel 15:3 NASB)

Saul summons his troops, ambushes the target and wins the battle (I Samuel 15:4-8). In the process, Saul also captures the opposing king, Agag (I Samuel 15:8). In war, as in chess, the capture of the king symbolizes victory. Saul makes Agag an exception to the rule. Instead of slaying the king as he had done to his army, Saul takes Agag alive (I Samuel 15:8).

But Saul and the people spared Agag and the best of the sheep, the oxen, the fatlings, the lambs, and all that was good, and were not willing to destroy them utterly; but everything despised and worthless, that they utterly destroyed. (I Samuel 15:9 NASB)

This aberration is striking. Robert D. Bergen (b. 1954) explains, “So significant was Saul’s action to the writer that he recounted it twice, using two different verbs to describe the same event; Saul both “took Agag king of the Amalakites alive” (I Samuel 15:8) and “spared Agag” (I Samuel 15:9) (Bergen, 1, 2 Samuel (New American Commentary: Vol. 7),169).”

There are two biblical kings named Agag (Numbers 24:7; I Samuel 15:8-33) , both Amalekites, and as such it has been posited that Agag was a dynastic name. Robert P. Gordon (b. 1945) writes, “Agag is a name, or title (cf. Pharaoh, Candace), occurring also in Numbers 24:7 and perhaps perpetuated in the adjectival ‘Agagite’ used to describe – perhaps vilify – Haman in the book of Esther (Esther 3:1, etc.). (Gordon, I & II Samuel: A Commentary (Library of Biblical Interpretation), 144).”

Hans Wilhelm Hertzberg (1895-1965) speculates:

The naming of the personification of anti-Semitism, Haman, in Esther 3:1 as Agagite shows clearly that Agag became almost the type of the enemy of Yahweh and his people. Saul’s subsequent action must therefore have been regarded all the more seriously at a later time. (Hertzberg, I and II Samuel: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 125)

By this rationale, calling Haman an “Agagite” is tantamount to calling a tyrant a Hitler-ite in today’s world with Agag corresponding to Adolf Hitler (1889-1945).

An intentional verb-subject disagreement demonstrates that Saul alone was responsible for the decision to spare Agag. Robert Alter (b. 1935) deciphers:

The Hebrew says simply “Saul and the troops spared Agag,” but because a singular verb is used with the plural subject, it signals to the audience that Saul is the principal actor and the troops only accessories. (This highlighting of the first-mentioned agent through a singular verb for a plural subject is a general feature of biblical usage.) When confronted by Samuel, Saul will turn the responsibility for the action on its head. (Alter, The David Story: A Translation with Commentary of 1 and 2 Samuel, 78)

In short, Saul makes the call. His reasons are unknown. Some have theorized that Saul plans to make sport of the losing king as part of a victory celebration, as was often customary.

Others have seen Agag’s reprieve as an extension of the Israelites’ policy of destroying the weak and despised while keeping the best (I Samuel 15:9, 21). David Toshio Tsumura (b. 1944) writes:

Modern translations differ among each other in their understanding of the syntax of the phrase, literally, “the best of the sheep and the cattle and the fatlings and the lambs and all that was valuable.” The question is how far the scope of “best” extends. (Tsumura, The First Book of Samuel (New International Commentary on the Old Testament), 395)

Whatever his rationale, the king’s disobedience leads to God regretting Saul’s appointment as king (I Samuel 15:10-11) and the prophet Samuel confronting Saul at Gilgal (I Samuel 15:12-23). The celebrating king clearly did not understand his failure (I Samuel 15:13, 20-21). Some have speculated that Saul’s transgression represents a misunderstanding of the scope of his orders.

Francesca Aran Murphy (b. 1960) explains:

“Utterly destroy” translates the Hebrew hrm. But did Saul know to interpret hrm as meaning destroy in the straight sense of annihilate then and there?...hrm could mean “something like ‘devote to a god by destruction.’”...Only the best meat could be used in sacrifice. King and people would not utterly destroy the best of the animals, because of this analysis their highest priority was to take the finest specimens to sacrifice to Yahweh. Gilgal was the place of sacrifice. Why go there, unless it was to sacrifice? (Murphy, 1 Samuel (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 139)

When confronted, Saul repents but Samuel will not relent (I Samuel 15:24-31). Saul had been given the opportunity to demonstrate his covenant leadership by being obedient and he had failed.

Samuel then finishes Saul’s job, carving the defeated king into pieces (I Samuel 15:32-33). Noting that Agag had employed similar tactics, Samuel butchers the Amalekite.

Afterwards, the prophet and the king part ways. Saul returns to his house at Gibeah of Saul while Samuel goes to Ramah (I Samuel 15:34). The doomed king and the prophet would never again see one another on this earth.

Saul spared only the best livestock. Did he regard the opposing king as the human equivalent? Why did Saul spare only Agag? Why did God want to expunge the Amalekites?

Ultimately, in the biblical narrative, king Agag is only a pawn in the account of Saul’s rejection. In this story, the background is far more problematic than the foreground – Saul is commanded by God to commit genocide and is reprimanded for showing (albeit a small) mercy.

The great Jewish philosopher Martin Buber (1875-1963) writes of an encounter he had while on a journey with an acquaintance whom he knew to be a devout Jew. As people are prone to do with clergy types, the conversation made its way to problematic biblical texts and eventually the story of Agag’s demise (I Samuel 15:1-33).

Buber describes:

I told him how already at that time it horrified me to read or to remember how the heathen king went to the prophet with the words on his lips, “Surely the bitterness of death is past,” and was hewn to pieces by him. I said to my partner: “I have never been able to believe that this is a message of God. I do not believe it.” With wrinkled forehead and contracted brows, the man sat opposite me and his glance flamed into my eyes. He remained silent, began to speak, and became silent again. “So?” he broke forth at last, “so? You do not believe it?” “No,” I answered, “I do not believe it.” “So? so?” he repeated almost threateningly. “You do not believe it?” And once again: “No.”

“What. What”—he thrust the words before him one after the other—“What do you believe then?” “I believe,” without reflecting, “that Samuel has misunderstood God.” And he, again slowly, but more softly than before: “So? You believe that?” and I: “Yes.” Then we were both silent. But now something happened the like of which I have rarely seen before or since in this my long life. The angry countenance opposite me became transformed as if a hand had passed over it soothing it. It lightened, cleared, was now turned toward me bright and clear. “Well,” said the man with a positively gentle tender clarity, “I think so too.” And again we became silent, for a good while. (Buber, Meetings: Autobiographical Fragments, 52-53)

Some have taken solace in the fact that, as Buber alludes, Saul’s orders are indirect. The story’s first verse reveals a chain of command in which God speaks to Samuel and Samuel to Saul (I Samuel 15:1). The genocidal orders are not spoken directly by God but instead God is only quoted by the prophet (I Samuel 15:1-3). It is certainly easier to believe Samuel, who cut his enemy to pieces at the text’s conclusion (I Samuel 15:32-33), a monster than God. While this theory works for the story’s first panel, in its second God is seen as complicit with the prophet (I Samuel 15:10-11) which moves the criticism from the prophet’s behavior to the text’s credibility.

Does Samuel act with true divine authority or, as Buber suggests, does he confuse his own desires with God’s will? How do you handle/interpret the genocidal command of I Samuel 15:3? How do you differentiate between God’s voice and your own?

“The first point of wisdom is to discern that which is false; the second, to know that which is true.” - Lactantius (240-320), advisor to the first Christian Roman emperor, Constantine I (272-337)

Set Apart To Being Together (Hosea 6:1)

Which prophet said, “Come, let us return to the Lord; for he has torn, that he may heals us; he has stricken, and he will bind us up”? Hosea (Hosea 6:1)

Hosea prophesied about Israel’s unfaithfulness towards their faithful God. Though this theme is consistent throughout, during the course of the book the scene shifts at the outbreak of the Syro-Ephraimitic war (Hosea 5:8-7:16). This conflict resulted in the northern kingdom of Israel falling to the juggernaut Assyrian army.

James Luther Mays (b. 1921) pinpoints:

The references to contemporary events in Hosea 5:8-6:6 fit the situation in Israel during the time after the Assyrian attack had begun, just before and after 733. The sayings are addressed to both the northern and southern kingdoms, with the former called Ephraim throughout. (Mays, Hosea: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 87)

Amidst the wartime material, Hosea includes a famous song of penitence (Hosea 6:1-3) which reflects the belief in God’s ability to resurrect the nation’s life. The song begins:

“Come, let us return to the LORD. For He has torn us, but He will heal us; He has wounded us, but He will bandage us.” (Hosea 6:1 NASB)

Hosea 6:1-3 is closely connected to the preceding chapter (Hosea 5:11-15) as the song alludes to festering wounds (Hosea 5:13) and “torn us” continues the analogy of God acting the lion (Hosea 5:14-15).

James Limburg (b. 1935) explains that these verses (Hosea 6:1-3):

Contain a song of penitence, picking up the medical imagery of Hosea 5:13 and expressing exactly what was called for in Hosea 5:15. Rather than going to “Dr. Assyria” for help...the people of Israel are urged to seek help from the true Physician, the Lord. If they repent, their fortunes will be reversed, just as surely as the dawn comes each morning and the showers come each springtime! (Limburg, Hosea-Micah (Interpretation: a Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 27)

In addressing their predicament, the prophet asserts that the biggest national crisis is not the imposing Assyrian army but the peoples’ relationship with God. As such, the song urges Israel to seek assistance from God instead of military alliances. James Merrill Ward (b. 1928) speculates that “the expectation...that the healing will take place on the third day [Hosea 6:2] implies that the occasion is a pilgrimage festival at the central sanctuary (Ward, Hosea: A Theological Commentary, 118).”

The primary problem with the song (Hosea 6:1-3) is not its theology but its sincerity (Hosea 7:14). In his acclaimed novel, Blood Done Sign My Name: A True Story, Timothy B. Tyson (b. 1959) writes, “If there is to be reconciliation, first there must be truth (Tyson, 10).” The biggest issue regarding Israel’s song of penitence is whether the prayer conveys truth.

J. Andrew Dearman (b. 1951) explains:

The question is whether Hosea 6:1-3 is the speech of the people that the Lord longs to hear while waiting in his place (Hosea 5:15), and is thus composed by Hosea to represent true repentance (if only Israel would embrace it!); or whether Hosea 6:1-3 is something that Israel is proposing but in an inadequate way. A decision between the options is difficult. With regard to the witness of the book, the result is crystal clear: whether repentance is inadequately expressed or offered as advice to Israel, the people failed the loyalty test. (Dearman, The Book of Hosea (New International Commentary on the Old Testament), 191).

Based upon God’s rejection (Hosea 6:4-7), most conclude that Israel’s song of penitence was not wholly sincere. Ehud Ben Zvi (b. 1951) wrestles, “On the one hand, Hosea 6:1-3 represents what postmonarchic Israel should think and do. As an interlude, it provides an important teaching to the community. Nothing in the text per se suggests that Israel is insincere in Hosea 6:1-3. Yet within the literary context Hosea 6:1-3, in a seemingly unexpected manner, leads to YHWH’s negative response in Hosea 6:4-7 (Ben Zvi, Hosea (Forms of the Old Testament Literature), 144).”

D.A. Carson (b. 1946) adds, “Hosea 6:1-3 sounds rather more like genuine repentance that is urged but not followed, than like the empty words of insincere hypocrites. Whatever the interpretation, clearly God is not impressed with mere words and religious observance (Carson, For the Love of God: A Daily Companion for Discovering the Riches of God's Word, 31).”

Some have seen subtle clues behind the song’s beautiful words that betray its true motives. The Israelites’ concern is healing, not cleansing; happiness, not holiness; an improved circumstance, not a matured character. James Montgomery Boice (1938-2000) inspects: “The essential elements of a true confession are missing in Hosea 6:1-3. First, there is no reference to sin. There is an acknowledgment of the consequences of Israel’s sin...A second missing element is a personal relationship with God. This is seen in the mechanical way the people conceive of God’s restoring them (Boice, Come to the Waters: Daily Bible Devotions for Spiritual Refreshment, 147).”

Who is speaking in this passage? Does Hosea 6:1-3 represent true repentance? What clues reveal the speakers’ earnestness? Do national events still reflect spiritual realities?

While the motives behind Israel’s song of repentance are questioned, the passage’s theology is not. The prophet offers a message of hope - the relationship between Israel and God is still salvageable. Gary V. Smith (b. 1943) clarifies, “This hope is based on his [God’s] earlier promises to restore those who turn from their evils ways and repent (Hosea 2:16-23, 3:4-5; cf. Deuteronomy 4:25-31, 32:39) (Smith, The NIV Application Commentary: Hosea, Amos, Micah).”

The passage hints that if God tore the Israelites, it was so that they could be mended. Some bones must be broken before they can properly heal. The Israelites could become strong in the broken places. The possibility existed that they were set apart to be together.

Caleb Oluremi Oladipo (b. 1955) writes of Christianity’s role in the improbable racial reconciliation in South Africa:

In South Africa...the Church was in captivity under apartheid, and the unjust social structures were reinforced and legitimated under the banner of Christianity...At the same time, the constructive roles of mission in Africa cannot be ignored...What is clear is that the Christian faith has renewed its destiny in South Africa, providing an opportunity for a society fractured by the racist ideology of apartheid to come together. (Oladipo, The Will to Arise, ix).

The same religious text that had been wrongly used to divide a nation was also properly used to reunite it.

If God could reunite South Africa, is any relationship unsalvageable? What is the most improbable reconciliation you have witnessed or heard of? Was Israel torn so that it could be better mended? Is a person’s relationship with God ever unsalvageable?

“I would hope that understanding and reconciliation are not limited to the 19th hole alone.” - Gerald R. Ford (1913-2006)