The Clothes Make the Man? (Exodus 28:4)

Who wore an ephod? The high priest (Exodus 28:4)

In defining Aaron’s role as the high priest for the new nation of Israel, God establishes a very strict dress code (Exodus 28:4-43). God commands Moses:

“These are the garments which they shall make: a breastpiece and an ephod and a robe and a tunic of checkered work, a turban and a sash, and they shall make holy garments for Aaron your brother and his sons, that he may minister as priest to Me.” (Exodus 28:4 NASB)

Maxie Dunnam (b. 1934) comments:

The garments were very ornate, of fine linen, intricately embroidered, not to draw attention to the priest, but to the office, the function. Seven pieces of apparel are described. (Dunnam, Exodus (Mastering the Old Testament), 338)

Of the cataloged items, the ephod is unquestionably one of the most important. It is meticulously described with explicit instructions as to its construction (Exodus 28:6-14, 39:1-17) .

Ronald E. Clements (b. 1929) prioritizes:

The ephod was the most important item of the clothing of a priest, and was apparently at one time the only substantial item worn (I Samuel 2:28, 14:3, 22:18). It consisted of a loin-cloth fastened by a strap or belt around the hips. It was probably, at a very distant time, the normal item of dress for everybody. (Clements, Exodus (Cambridge Bible Commentary), 181)

Victor P. Hamilton (b. 1952) counters:

The ephod is the second most important item of clothing the priest wears after the breastpiece. The reason for describing the ephod before the breastpiece may be because it provides the support for the breastpiece (Umberto Cassuto [1883-1951] 1967: 373). (Hamilton, Exodus: An Exegetical Commentary, 485)

Whether ranking first or second in importance, the ephod is highly significant.

The term ephod is a transliteration of the Hebrew ‘êphôd. Though this term is not in popular use most translations leave it untranslated (ASV, ESV, HCSB, KJV, MSG, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV, RSV) though some Bibles using contemporary language render the garment “priestly vest” (CEV).

The exact meaning of the term has not been determined. Victor P. Hamilton (b. 1952) traces:

We remain uncertain of the origin of the word ’ēpōd. John A. Tvedtnes [b. 1941] (1982) connects the Hebrew word with the Egyptian ifd/y/yfd (“cloth”). Others suggest that the Hebrew word is cognate with Akkadian epattu (“a costly garment’). (Hamilton, Exodus: An Exegetical Commentary, 485)

Robert Alter (b. 1935) speculates:

The ephod (the Hebrew root suggests “binding” or “wrapping around”) evidently was a kind of apron, though opinions differ on this. It has a secondary meaning as an oracular device. (Alter, The Five Books of Moses: A Translation with Commentary, 474)

The ephod is a distinct item. Douglas K. Stuart (b. 1943) differentiates:

In the divine instructions given to Moses in this chapter, the ephod is distinguished from the breastpiece that was attached to it for the purpose of diving God’s will through Urim and Thummim. The term ephod, however, came to include automatically the notion of “ephod with breastpiece attached” since the two pieces were not used separately, and after the book of Exodus one encounters the term “ephod” rather consistently for the ephod-breastpiece assembly. (Stuart, Exodus (New American Commentary), 606)

In spite of the relatively large space devoted to the ephod, it cannot be replicated with any certainty; its exact form and function remain indeterminate. H.L Ellison (1903-1983) acknowledges:

We have no means of giving a definitive meaning to “ephod”, the English being simply a transliteration of the Hebrew. As R. Alan Cole [1923-2003] says, “The extent of our puzzlement is shown by the fact that we do not know whether the ephod was a waistcoat or a kilt, to use modern terms.” (Ellison, Exodus (Daily Study Bible), 152)

Cornelis Van Dam (b. 1946) elaborates:

Opinion is divided about where the ephod was worn. One view holds that it was like an apron and worn below the waist (Menahem Haran [b. 1924], 106). The rendering of the Septuagint...and the testimony of Josephus [37-100] (Antiquities of the Jews 3.7.5. §162), however, favor the interpretation that it was worn on the upper part of the body. Such ephodlike garments have been attested in New Kingdom Egypt, indicating some cultural affinity with the Old Testament ephod. (T. Desmond Alexander [b. 1955] and David W. Baker [b. 1950], “Priestly Clothing”, Dictionary of the Old Testament: Pentateuch, A Compendium of Contemporary Biblical Scholarship, 643)

Carol Meyers (b. 1942) concedes:

Neither of these priestly vestments can be reconstructed with confidence, but several aspects of each, apart from the other, can be discerned. Although not the first item in the introductory list, the ephod (Exodus 28:6-14) is the first for which directions are given. Perhaps this piece comes at the beginning because of its apparent antiquity in the array of Israelite priestly apparel. In addition to the priestly texts of the Pentateuch, it appears in a handful of deuteronomic texts relating to the premonarchic and early monarchic periods; and an equivalent term appears in other ancient Semitic texts. These sources contain such disparate information, however, that it is very difficult to understand what an ephod looked like or how it was used. Scholars have struggled with the ephod problem since antiquity. The appearance and use of the ephod clearly varied over the millennium or more represented by all these sources. What is constant is that the ephod always related to ritual matters – sometimes as a ritual garment, sometimes as a divinatory device, and sometimes as both. In Exodus and other priestly texts, its detail and its association with the breastpiece make it likely that it was worn by the priest and used for oracular purposes. (Meyers, Exodus (New Cambridge Bible Commentary), 242)

The term’s inconsistent use within the Bible further muddies the waters. Brevard S. Childs (1923-2007) reports:

It remains a question whether the description of the ephod is consistent throughout the entire Old Testament. In the earlier period, especially in the Micah stories (Judges 17:1-13), the ephod is associated with ‘house gods’ in a manner which is no longer fully clear (cf. also I Samuel 2:18; II Samuel 6:14, 20). However, in Exodus the ephod is part of the priestly clothing, being a type of apron of different colors on which the breastpiece was attached. Cf. the depiction by Kurt Galling [1900-1987], Exodus, p. 141. The other critical literature is cited by Julian Morgenstern [1881-1976]...pp. 114ff., the more recent by Rudolf Smend [1851-1913], Biblisch-historisches Handwörterbuch, col. 420 and Roland De Vaux [1903-1971], Ancient Israel: Its Life and Instructions, p. 544. (Childs, The Book of Exodus: A Critical, Theological Commentary (Old Testament Library), 527)

Randall C. Bailey (b. 1951) conjectures:

The term “ephod” seems to imply two different kinds of cultic objects. Often in connection with the teraphim as well as images, the ephod at times was regarded as idolatrous (Judges 17:3-5, 18:14, 17-20; for the teraphim see I Samuel15:23; II Kings 23:24). Gideon created an ephod by which Israel “prostituted themselves by worshiping it there and it became a snare to Gideon and his family” (Judges 8:24). Goliath’s sword was kept “wrapped in cloth behind the ephod” (I Samuel 21:9). The ephod could be worn or carried (I Samuel 2:18, 28, 14:3, 22:18...II Samuel 6:14; I Chronicles 15:27). Its use to ascertain the divine will (I Samuel 23:9-11) seems to have produced the phrase “breastpiece of decision” (משפט חשו, hōšen mišpat, Exodus 28:15, 29). Such varied uses are difficult to reconcile. (Bailey, Exodus (The College Press NIV Commentary), 305)

Victor P. Hamilton (b. 1952) suggests:

Subsequent references to this ephod may or may not be referring to the high priest’s golden ephod (see Philip R. Davies [b. 1945] 1975: especially 84-85). For example, the ephod Gideon “set up” (Judges 8:27) seems to be a statue or an upright object rather than a garment (also see Judges 18:18), “the statue/carved image of the ephod [pesel hā’‘ēpôd]”. And how do young Samuel (I Samuel 2:18) and dancing David (II Samuel 6:14) get away with wearing something that only the high priest is to wear? Maybe there is more than one kind of ephod. Or maybe all ephod references are to the same phenomenon, but a phenomenon that has different manifestations throughout Israel’s history. (Hamilton, Exodus: An Exegetical Commentary, 486)

Despite the uncertainty, at the very least a rough sketch of the garment can be reconstructed. Victor P. Hamilton (b. 1952) characterizes:

The ephod is shaped liked an apron encircling the body and covers the loins (maybe from waist to thigh). It is kept in position on the body by means of two shoulder pieces (Exodus 28:7) and a fastening band (Exodus 28:8). Gold is its most dominant material and color. This is indicated by Exodus 28:6, which lists gold before it lists any fabrics. (Hamilton, Exodus: An Exegetical Commentary, 485)

Terry W. Eddinger (b. 1964) envisions:

An ornate, sleeveless outer garment worn by the Israelite high priest. Exodus 28:6-10 describes the ephod as a garment made of fine, twisted linen decorated with gold, blue, purple, and scarlet material. Two shoulder pieces and a woven belt made of the same material complete the outfit. Affixed to the shoulder pieces were two onyx stones inscribed with the names of the sons of Israel. A breastplate made of the same materials and decorated with 12 precious stones, symbolizing the 12 tribes, was attached by golden rings to the front of the ephod (Exodus 28:15-28). A pocket in the breastplate stored the Urim and Thummim, the lots of divination. (David Noel Freedman [1922-2008], “Ephod”, Eerdmans Dictionary of the Bible, 415)

Walter C. Kaiser, Jr. (b. 1933) delineates:

The ephod probably was a high priestly waistcoat woven of blue, purple, scarlet, and white linen thread—all entwined with gold thread. Instead of having sleeves or being joined at the sides, it was hung from the shoulders by straps on each of which one onyx stone was mounted on top of a golden clasp, with the names of the six younger sons of Israel engraved on one stone and the six elder sons engraved on the other stone (Exodus 28:9-10). The Septuagint makes the onyx “emeralds,” while Josephus [37-100] (Antiquities of the Jews 3.165 [7.5]) makes them “sardonyx,” the best variety of onyx...A “waistband” (Exodus 28:8) made of the same material and style as the ephod held the front and back of the ephod to the priest’s body. It had no significance of its own. (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b. 1947], Genesis ~Leviticus (Expositor’s Bible Commentary), 527)

There are parallels to the ephod in other cultures of the period. Bruce Wells (b. 1968) addresses:

This description [Exodus 28:6] portrays the ephod as a rather expensive piece of clothing. A similar garment appears to be mentioned in Old Assyrian texts (the term is epattu) and in a few documents from Ugarit (ipd in Ugaritic). There is some hint that these garments were also costly though the evidence is inconclusive. Based on the biblical account, the ephod was like an apron that wrapped around the body from the waist down. Depictions of similar garments on figures that appear to be royal and/or divine have been preserved in artistic representations from New Kingdom Egypt. These garments include shoulder straps, fastened to the main piece by gems in similar fashion to the priestly ephod. Their purpose is unclear, as is any connection to their Israelite counterpart. (John H. Walton [b. 1952], Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 253)

Due to these similarities some critical scholars have speculated that the ephod’s origins lay outside of Israel. William T. Miller (b. 1941) informs:

The ephod was apparently a vestlike garment that had in the past been used to decorate idols; in various places in the Old Testament, its use was prohibited. William H.C. Propp [b. 1957] suggests that P deliberately uses it in the legitimate cult, rather than avoid mentioning the existence of the garment altogether. (Miller, The Book of Exodus: Question by Question, 311)

Regardless of its origins, the ephod’s design carries considerable meaning within the context of Israel and later Christianity. Maxie Dunnam (b. 1934) observes:

The ephod (Exodus 28:6-14) included all the colors which have come to symbolize the characteristics of the person of Christ: gold—purity and power; blue—spiritual/divine; purple—sovereign king; scarlet—sacrifice. (Dunnam, Exodus (Mastering the Old Testament), 338)

The attire directly correlates to the high priest’s role. Peter Enns (b. 1961) connects:

We are not told here what its purpose is, but other biblical texts indicate that it is a means of finding God’s will (I Samuel 23:9-11, 30:7-8). The high priest functions not only in a sacrificial role but also as a conduit for God’s revelation to the people. (Enns, Exodus (The NIV Application Commentary), 530)

Of special significance is the inclusion of the names of the twelve tribes of Israel into the garment (Exodus 28:9-10). Carol Meyers (b. 1942) recognizes:

Two of the items, the ephod and breatspiece, are highly specialized, appearing almost exclusively in priestly contexts and probably having a specific role in ritual practice. Although very different in their construction, these two items share certain features. For one thing, their importance is signaled by the fact that directions for making them are far more extensive than for other pieces of priestly garb. Another feature is that they are linked structurally with rings and cords. Perhaps most striking is that they are both to be adorned with gemstones engraved for “remembrance” (Exodus 28:12, 19) with the names of the Israelite tribes. This feature has commemorative symbolic value, bringing all Israel into the tabernacle with Aaron as he carries out the rituals thought to help secure the well-being of the people or adjudicate their conflicts. (Meyers, Exodus (New Cambridge Bible Commentary), 241)

J. Gerald Janzen (b. 1932) interprets:

The fact that God instructs these tribal names to be placed on the ephod shows that God intends to remember. But the fact that God instructs the priests to bear these names on their shoulders shows that God calls the priests (and through them the whole people of God) to participate with God in the act of intercessory remembrance. Thus already, in the symbolism of the ephod, we see the two-sided character of intercession as something we do and something God does in and through us (Romans 8:26-27). (Janzen, Exodus (Westminster Bible Companion), 207–08)

The high priest is adorned in ornate attire intended to convey dignity, not of the man but of his position and task. As is often the case with fashion choices, the high priest’s clothing makes a statement before he ever opens his mouth.

What items of clothing are you familiar with which maintain their name from their language of origin? How is the high priest’s wardrobe befitting of his function? What items of clothing are unique to a particular profession? Whose work attire is most identifiable? Does clothing always make a statement? What, if anything, do your clothes say about you?

The high priest obviously stands out. His attire sets him apart, even from other clergy. This pays dividends for all involved. Philip Graham Ryken (b. 1966) appraises:

The grandeur of these garments was important not only for the high priest but also for the nation of Israel. Whenever the priest performed his sacred duties, he represented God’s people. He did not act for himself alone, but for all the people before God. What he wore, therefore, was as important to them as it was to him. (Ryken, Exodus: Saved for God's Glory (Preaching the Word), 871)

The high priest is especially set apart. Thomas B. Dozeman (b. 1952) discusses:

About ritual clothing, John E. Vollmer [b. 1945] states: “Special clothes are used to transform the priest into a ritual celebrant,” who is “capable of bridging the gap between the physical world and the world of the spirits.” Moreover, ritual clothing is shaped by theology, a view of ordination, and liturgical practice. The more the clergy is seen as a priesthood, according to Deborah H. Kraak, the greater will be the visual distinction in clothing between the religious leaders and the laity. This is certainly the case with the priestly vestments in Exodus 28:4-43. The clothing of Aaron as the high priest is the most distinctive, because it signifies his holy status. Most of the sacred vestments focus on the high priest, including the ephod, the breastplate, the Urim and Thummim, the robe, and the turban (Exodus 28:6-38). The vestments of the general priesthood also separate them from the laity, but in a less distinctive way. (Dozeman, Exodus (Eerdmans Critical Commentary), 642)

The high priest’s garb serves as a constant reminder to himself and everyone else that he has been consecrated by God for a special task. Every time he dons the ephod he renews his role as an intercessor between the sacred and the profane.

Why would a priest dress differently from parishioners? How is the pope, for instance, benefitted by his unique ensemble? Should clergy and laity dress differently? Since Jesus had to be identified by a traitorous kiss (Matthew 26:48-49; Mark 14:44-45; Luke 22:47-48), he obviously did not stand out; is this a model contemporary Christian ministers should follow when dressing? Is there a greater gap between laity and clergy in denominations whose ministers are governed by a specific dress code? At your place of worship, do clergy dress differently from the parishioners? How important is a minister’s wardrobe?

“Fashion is a language that creates itself in clothes to interpret reality.” - Karl Lagerfeld (b. 1933), renowned fashion designer

How Low Will God Go? (Genesis 18:32)

How many faithful people did Abraham need to find in Sodom in order for the Lord not to destroy it? Ten (Genesis 18:32)

After openly debating whether to confide in Abraham (Genesis 18:16-19; John 15:15), God decides to inform the patriarch that the outcry against Sodom has warranted an investigation (Genesis 18:20-21). Accurately inferring that the city’s destruction is imminent, Abraham pleads for its survival (Genesis 18:23-32). He begins his plea with a question: “Will You indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked?” (Genesis 18:23 NASB)

Abraham does not wait for a reply. Instead he applies for a reprieve in the event that fifty righteous citizens can be found (Genesis 18:24-25). W. Sibley Towner (b. 1933) reads:

In the spirited colloquy between the Lord and Abraham that follows, the patriarch bargains tenaciously for the lives of the innocent people of Sodom. He raised the possibility that fifty righteous person might become “collateral damage” when God blitzes the city. He even hints the Lord would be unjust. The tone, if not the literal text, of Genesis 18:25 says “Shame on you!” (Towner, Genesis (Westminster Bible Companion), 171)

After being assured that the city would be spared for the sake of fifty innocents (Genesis 18:26), Abraham presses his luck. He repeats the question, reducing the requisite number by five. This process is repeated through six iterations as the patriarch gradually dwindles the minimum from 50 to 45 to 40 to 30 to 20 to 10 (Genesis 18:24-32). The text takes on a tit-for-tat pace as after each reduction, God reassures Abraham that Sodom would be spared if it met the stated requirements.

Kenneth A. Mathews (b. 1950) characterizes:

The numbers of righteous reduce by five’s, from fifty to forty (Genesis 18:24, 28a, 29a) and then ten’s from forty to ten (Genesis 18:30a, 31a, 32a). Interspersed are the Lord’s speeches, like a refrain, repeating the equivalent number in each case. This give-and-take arrangement, which in this case means Abraham “takes” and the Lord “gives,” exhibits the Lord’s grace and also Abraham’s compassion for the recalcitrant city. (Matthews, Genesis 11:27-50:26 (New American Commentary), 229)

Stuart Briscoe (b. 1930) compares:

He...engaged in a dialogue with the Lord which at first sight is reminiscent of an American tourist trying to beat down an Arab shopkeeper in the bazaars of the Old City of Jerusalem. He got a guarantee from the Lord that if there were fifty righteous people in Sodom the city would not be destroyed for their sake, but he recognized that he was overestimating the spiritual condition of Sodom. He brought down his figure by increments until the Lord promised that if there were ten righteous Sodom would be saved from judgment. The Lord had proved once again that His commitment to righteousness was inviolate. That if His servant was capable of moral integrity the Lord Himself was no stranger to rectitude and could indeed be trusted always to do what is right. (Briscoe, Genesis (Mastering the Old Testament), 166)

Perhaps sensing the time for bartering has reached its limit, the conversation abruptly ends; Abraham stops at ten and God departs (Genesis 18:32-33).

Then he [Abraham] said, “Oh may the Lord not be angry, and I shall speak only this once; suppose ten are found there?” And He said, “I will not destroy it on account of the ten.” (Genesis 18:32 NASB)

It would appear that Abraham seeks to spare the city for the sake of a few good men. Miguel A. De La Torre (b. 1958) cautions:

As we envision all of the town’s men before Lot’s house we are forced to ask: Where are the women of the city? We know by Genesis 19:4 that the men were wicked, but what about the women? When Abraham asked God...if ten righteous men could be found would the city be spared, we wonder what would have happened if Abraham would simply have asked for ten righteous persons? Patriarchy blinds us to the women’s presence in the story. All the men may have been wicked, but what about their wives? Their daughters? Is the city’s salvation or destruction based solely on the faithfulness, or lack thereof, of men? Do women who may have been righteous remain invisible? (De La Torre, Genesis: Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, 191)

Though bold enough to negotiate with God, Abraham is cautious in his interactions with the divine. Thomas L. Brodie (b. 1940) analyzes:

The bargaining, concerning the requisite number of just people to save the city, falls essentially into three parts, bringing the number first to fifty, then to thirty, and finally to ten. The language of just and wicked/evil is moral, but in this legal debate, such language also has the legal meaning of innocent and guilty. The issue: Does God punish the innocent? Abraham is careful. In pleading the case he “deploys a whole panoply of the abundant rhetorical devices of ancient Hebrew for expressing self-abasement before a powerful figure” (Robert Alter [b. 1935], 82). (Brodie, Genesis As Dialogue: A Literary, Historical, and Theological Commentary, 249)

R. Kent Hughes (b. 1942) applies:

As Abraham explored the fate of Sodom with God, beautiful things emerged about him and his God. The six “what ifs”—What if...fifty?...forty-five?...forty?...thirty?...twenty...ten?—are instructive. In all of this Abraham “hangs on to God’s skirt like a burr.” He wrestled with God like Jacob did with the angel (cf. Genesis 32:22-32). And amazingly, Abraham’s boldness grew, for notice that the last three petitions lowered the number of necessary righteous by tens! Jesus would teach his disciples that “they ought always to pray and not lose heart” (Luke 18:1). This first patriarch and disciple set the pace. And we should note that Abraham’s prayers were not without effect. As the cities of the plain went up in flames, we read tellingly that “God remembered Abraham and sent Lot out of the midst of the overflow” (Genesis 19:29). (Hughes, Genesis: Beginning and Blessing (Preaching the Word), 266)

Conspicuously, Abraham willingly breaks off the negotiations when he arrives at ten righteous citizens (Genesis 18:32). Gordon Wenham (b. 1943) comments:

Clearly Abraham feels he has reached the limit of what he dare ask. He opens with the conciliatory “Do not be angry” (Genesis 18:30) and asks to speak “just once more.” And again his request is granted, albeit with the same threatening formula as in Genesis 18:31: “I shall not ruin it.” (Wenham, Genesis 16-50 (Word Biblical Commentary), 53)

Terence E. Fretheim (b. 1936) inquires:

Why does Abraham stop at ten and not take the dialogue with God all the way down to one? Or why does Abraham not begin with the number ten (or one)? If he wanted to focus on the issue of justice in a strict sense, the presence of one righteous person would be sufficient to make his case. That is to say, for even one righteous person to die in the course of the judgment on the wicked would be unjust. Because Abraham does not begin with the lowest numbers, he must want to make another point than one of strict divine justice...Why, then, are fifty or ten righteous persons enough to spare the city, but, apparently, one to nine persons is not? It may be that the number ten represents the smallest group (some think of a minyan) and that a smaller number would be dealt with as individuals, who could be (and were) led out of the city. Nahum Sarna [1923-2005] suggests an appropriate direction for reflection. Ten represents the limit of the number of righteous individuals who could outweigh the cumulative evil of the community. Ten constitutes the “minimum effective social entity.” I prefer the language of “critical mass.” (Fretheim, Abraham: Trials of Family and Faith, 83-84)

Leon R. Kass (b. 1939) observes:

Curiously, Abraham on his own and voluntarily—“I will speak yet but this once” (Genesis 18:32)—stops the bargaining at ten. This is strange. On the principle that has driven him from the start, and that has apparently been supported at every turn by God’s response—namely, that the righteous ought not suffer—Abraham might have pressed the case to its logical conclusion: to spare the city for the sake of one righteous man. Why does Abraham break off at ten? Why does he not push all the way to one?...Abraham may have been afraid or ashamed to push to the limit, either out of a gradually increasing fear that God will judge him presumptuous or out of embarrassment at revealing a personal interest in his one kinsman. In addition, encouraged by God’s concessions, he might have become increasingly moved by feelings of awe. But fear, shame, and awe aside, Abraham may have broken off the bargaining because he may have learned something. Encouraged by God’s acceptance of his conditions, he is gradually brought to adopt the divine perspective. Like God, Abraham has begun to think about justice for a whole city. (Kass, The Beginning of Wisdom: Reading Genesis, 324)

Much has been made of why Abraham ceases his bartering at ten. Many have pointed to concern for his nephew, Lot, a resident of Sodom (Genesis 14:12), as the explanation for Abraham’s vested interest in the doomed city. In fact, this episode marks Abraham’s second intervention for Sodom and the first was clearly undertaken in deference to Lot (Genesis 14:14). Still, there were fewer than ten members of Lot’s family (Genesis 19:12-14).

Howard F. Vos (b. 1925) conjectures:

He never got so personal or selfish as to pray for relatives only. He stopped at ten, apparently presuming that Lot’s influence would guarantee at least that many righteous persons. But evidently such was not the case, as subsequent developments would demonstrate. (Vos, Genesis (Everyman’s Bible Commentary), 90)

Burton L. Visotzky (b. 1951) critiques:

Maybe Abraham got shy because his naked self-interest at saving his favorite nephew would be all too clear. When self-interest, rather than true justice, is the driving force in the bargaining, perhaps it is doomed to fail. Although it must be noted with divine irony that even as Sodom melts down, Abraham’s seed gets saved through his clout. So God destroys the city and still saves Lot. But what lesson might Abraham take from this outcome, then? (Visotzky, The Genesis of Ethics, 65)

George W. Coats (1936-2006) determines:

The point is not that Lot and his family are righteous. In the flood story, Noah survives disaster in part because of his righteousness (Genesis 7:1). But Lot is not labeled righteous, here or in chapter 19. In these negotiations, Lot never enters the discussion as a reason for appealing to the Lord for mercy. The issue is simply the contrast between wicked Sodom and the righteousness that cannot be found there (cf. Genesis 13:13). Moreover, the entire dialogue carries out the plan cited in Genesis 18:21. The grave sin is as grave as the depiction in Genesis 18:20. Thus, the negotiations constitute the probe of Yahweh into the character of the city, and the city proves void of righteousness. The unit sets the stage for chapter 19. (Coats, Genesis, with an Introduction to Narrative Literature (Forms of the Old Testament Literature), 141)

If the halting of Abraham’s petition is not connected to Lot, then why does he stop? Many explanations have been posited. Victor P. Hamilton (b. 1952) surveys:

Joseph Blenkinsopp [b. 1927] (“Abraham and the Righteous of Sodom,” Journal of Jewish Studies 33 [1982] 1230) summarizes suggestions of earlier commentators. He notes the suggestion of Ludwig Schmidt [b. 1924] (De Deo, pp. 151-156) that 50 and 10 have a special significance as military and judicial subunits. Schmidt’s proposal is that 50 stands for an extended family and 10 for the smallest unit constituting a group in the city. Perhaps for Abraham 10 was a sufficient figure to make his point, and to go beyond that number was unnecessary. Walter Brueggemann [b. 1933] (Catholic Biblical Quarterly 47 [1985] 410) says that “In its outcome the narrative is thoroughly Jewish because the bottom line is the minimum often, a minyan.” James L. Crenshaw [b. 1934] (A Whirlpool of Torment: Israelite Traditions of God as an Oppressive Presence, OBT [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984], p. 20 n. 38) suggests that in halting at 10, Abraham “stopped short of pushing the deity to the limit.” (Hamilton, The Book of Genesis: Chapters 18-50 (New International Commentary on the Old Testament Series), 24-25)

Martin Kessler (b. 1927) and Karel Deurloo (b. 1936) add:

Abraham counted off from fifty to ten, but to complete the number of six questions, the narrator had him say fifty minus five, which YHWH, who knows his math, calculated as forty-five. Abraham could not go beyond ten. In Judaism, ten is the minimal congregation of the righteous (minyan), which could represent the whole city. After six days of work, the seventh day is YHWH’s. Thus, Abraham let the seventh possibility open for YHWH, for he remained concerned about Lot. Only in that seventh possibility would Abraham’s intercession have any effect at all (Genesis 19:29), since the other six had failed. (Kessler and Deurloo, Commentary on Genesis: The Book of Beginnings, 116)

Tellingly, the basis of Abraham’s appeal is God’s justice, not the city’s righteousness. Victor P. Hamilton (b. 1952) outlines:

It appears that Abraham’s concern is twofold. His first concern, as expressed in Genesis 18:23, is whether Yahweh would indiscriminately kill the innocent along with the guilty. Thus, in Genesis 18:23 the emphasis is on the preservation of the saddîq. But in Genesis 18:24-32. Abraham expands his concern to include the preservation of the city/the place (hā‘îr/lammāqôm) because of the presence of the saddîq...Nowhere does Abraham challenge God’s evaluation of Sodom’s moral turpitude. The judgment is not up for debate. Nor does he at any point turn to Sodom to urge repentance. Rather, he turns to God to ask for divine mercy. (Hamilton, The Book of Genesis: Chapters 18-50 (New International Commentary on the Old Testament Series), 24-25)

Abraham fully admits that he is rooting for the minority to win the day. Laurence A. Turner interprets:

Note that Abraham does not plead for the salvation of a righteous remnant from the destruction of Sodom. Abraham knows his nephew better than that (see Genesis 13:8-13). In addition, Abraham has met the Sodomites first hand (Genesis 14:1-24), which has surely made him aware of the information divulged to the reader in Genesis 13:13, ‘Now the people of Sodom were wicked, great sinners against the Lord’. Knowing this, he may well wonder what corrupting effect they have had on Lot. As a result, Abraham pleads for the salvation of the whole city, on the basis of the vicarious righteousness of a minority of 10. In his pleading, Abraham divides the inhabitants of Sodom into two mutually exclusive groups: the righteous and the wicked (Genesis 18:23, 25). Abraham’s plea for the vicarious salvation of the whole city means that regardless of whether Lot is deemed to be righteous or wicked, he will be saved along with the rest of the city—if there are 10 righteous Sodomites (see Genesis 7:1-10, 19:30-38). (Turner, Genesis (Readings: A New Biblical Commentary), 82)

Regardless of his motives, Abraham’s actions are groundbreaking. This dialogue marks a major turning point in salvation history (Genesis 18:23-32). David Rosenberg (b. 1943) explains:

Tracing Abraham’s drama of these tentative iterations of a final agreement—to spare the cities if even ten innocent people can be found here—... [leaves] this danger of allowing evil to persist. Ten innocent individuals existing in Sodom certainly will not erase that evil. But Abraham is articulating what has never been accessible in any cosmic theater: the decision about evil is no longer a singular drama in the mind of a god. Now, it is one that has been joined in by humankind; that is what makes it more complex and costly...Abraham is not merely balancing moral weights on Sumerian scales here, but actively engaging with Yahweh in the creation of a realistic theater. Similarly, the vulnerability assumed by Yahweh in turn is staggering, for while ten innocents cannot erase or undo the evil, evil can erase or undo creation...It is now up to mortal men and women to negotiate and explore the way of God within a cosmic theater, and not to simply struggle with the dictates of a god. (Rosenburg, Abraham: The First Historical Biography, 218-19)

In permitting Abraham to intercede for Sodom, God is allowing humans the opportunity to shape history. And humanity has had that option ever since.

Why does Abraham intercede for Sodom? Is he more concerned with divine justice or his nephew’s fate? Are you concerned with international affairs? Given that God has accepted every one of his propositions, why does Abraham stop at ten? Does Abraham’s dickering have any affect? Have you ever bartered with God? When have you interceded for another? Would God destroy the righteous with the wicked; does God tolerate collateral damage? How many innocent people were dwelling in Sodom? How many righteous residents would it have taken to spare the city?

The questions that God answers are not near as tantalizing as the one that the text leaves dangling: Would God sweep away the righteous with the wicked (Genesis 18:23)? Perhaps sensing this tension, Josephus (37-100) denotes that there are no righteous in Sodom (Antiquities 1.199). In moving the dialogue towards the negotiations, Abraham lets his initial question linger.

Some have speculated that Abraham leaves satisfied; the theological point having been made. Allen P. Ross (b. 1943) pinpoints:

This passage [Genesis 18:16-33] has most frequently (and legitimately) been treated for its emphasis on intercession; the predominant theme of the whole section, however, is justice. This motif grows out of the preceding narrative, which stressed that God was able to do whatever he chose to do. But would it be just? The answer to this question was a foregone conclusion, which Abraham’s intercession demonstrated. It is clear from the outset of the story that Abraham’s intercession was not going to alter the situation, for Sodom and Gomorrah deserved judgment. The narrator thus used the intercession to show that the destruction of the cities of the plain would be just. (Ross, Creation and Blessing: A Guide to the Study and Exposition of Genesis, 347)

Gerhard Von Rad (1901-1971) writes:

The discontinuance of the conversation at “ten innocent” has given rise to many reflections...His refusal to go on from the ten innocent to five and finally to one, raises many questions need not mean that the conversation ends with an open question. Apparently Abraham and the narrator, at Yahweh’s answer in Genesis 18:32, reached a final limit, to ask beyond which did not occur to Abraham. Thereby, in our opinion, the narrative guards the uniqueness and marvel of the message about the one who brings salvation and reconciliation for “many” (Isaiah 53:5, 10); for this was not anything expected or inferred from men. Besides Isaiah 53, one should refer to Hosea 11:8-9 for the ultimate consequence not drawn in our conversation: God does not want to destroy, rather his heart ‘recoils”; he is as a holy one “in your midst”...The righteous one who redeems, the holy one is here not a man but God himself (Kurt Galling [1900-1987], Deutsche Theologie 1939, 86ff). (Von Rad, Genesis: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 214)

In contrast, Susan Brayford (b. 1950) suspects:

When God again admits he will not destroy on account of ten, Abraham perhaps wishes he could speak once again. However, he said he would not [Genesis 18:32]. Just in case Abraham decides to ask for more – or less, God stops speaking to Abraham and departs [Genesis 18:33]. Abraham, no longer having a conversation partner, returns to his place. Inasmuch as Abraham never again engages in an extended conversation with God, his ‘place’ is both literal (where he is living) and figurative (not equal to God). (Brayford, Genesis (Septuagint Commentary Series), 317)

As such, the text ends with Abraham’s initial inquiry unresolved. Robert Ignatius Letellier (b. 1953) notes:

Interestingly for the general structure of the whole narrative complex, the last answer “For the sake of ten I will not destroy it” (Genesis 18:32) is ambiguous since it resolves the tension provoked by Abraham’s last question but does not terminate the anxiety generated by Abraham’s intercession generally...The unresolved issues of Genesis 18 span the break with Genesis 19 and look to ensuing events for resolution. (Letellier, Day in Mamre, Night in Sodom: Abraham and Lot in Genesis 18 and 19, 51)

W. Lee Humphreys (b. 1939) expounds:

There it ends—at ten. “And Yahweh went as he finished speaking to Abraham, and Abraham returned to his place” (Genesis 18:33). Their dialogue ends, but we are not sure where we stand, for we are not told what the speakers think, know, or feel about it. The whole scene appears a bit askew upon reflection. Yahweh tells Abraham he will go down but does not go when Abraham does not pick up on his going. Abraham switches the issue from what Yahweh proposes to do to concern for Yahweh’s justice, and his nature as “judge of all the earth” (Genesis 18:25). Yahweh enters this new frame of reference, but in a most literal way that may well subvert it. The back and forth, then, in terms of such literal calculations, ends with a resolution in which little is resolved. (Humphreys, The Character of God in the Book of Genesis: A Narrative Appraisal, 122)

The question of the fate of the city that houses five or even one righteous soul is left for another day. This discussion will ultimately end with Jesus: One will be enough.

Walter Brueggemann (b. 1933) interprets:

The discussion ends with a dismaying abruptness. First, its abruptness is striking because it ends at a figure of ten (Genesis 18:33). One might insist, if we were calculating mathematicians, that that ending shows there must be ten and that nine will not do. But, one would fail to see the point. Rather, the conversation breaks off because the point is established that the power of righteousness overrides evil. The dramatic exploration need not be carried further. Second, the narrative is abrupt because after the deep struggle of chapter 18 the stroy of chapter 19 goes ahead as though nothing is changed. That is likely because (1) chapter 19 is old traditional material that could not be altered in the telling and (2) because the dialogue of chapter 18 is a new theological probing that only raises a fresh question still to be pursued rather than reaching a firm conclusion as a basis for chapter 19. The possibility raised by Abraham is perhaps too radical. It is suggested and then left to germinate in the heart of God. The issue remains between new affirmation (Genesis 18:22-33) and old tradition (Genesis 19:1-28). The principle of a new righteousness is affirmed in Genesis 18:22-33. These verses (Genesis 19:1-28) sound as though the concern is only to rescue the innocent (Lot and his family) without a care for the guilty. The popular theology of Genesis 19:1-28 moves in the direction of individualism and will be easily accepted by conventional believers. Previously, Genesis 18:22-33 carries with it a more difficult theology that will be intellectually more demanding. It stands against the usual moralism of each receiving his or her due. It is the good news of Genesis 18:22-33 and not the convention of Genesis 19:1-28 that moves toward Jesus of Nazareth. And like a subtle reprise, even in the conventionalism of chapter 19, Genesis 19:29 adds one whisper from chapter 18. Lot is saved not by his righteousness but vicariously by the power of Abraham...By the new mathematics of Genesis 18:22-33 (and Genesis 19:29), one is enough to save (Romans 5:15-17). (Brueggemann, Genesis (Interpretation: a Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 172-73)

R.R. Reno (b. 1959) deciphers:

As he presses God on behalf of the possible righteous residents of Sodom and Gomorrah, we see that those called to fellowship with God intercede as well. In this way Abraham foreshadows Moses, who intercedes on behalf of the sinful Israelites, as well as the Levitical priesthood that sacrifices on behalf of the people. Abraham even more clearly prefigures Christ. Abraham urges God to accept the righteousness of a few as sufficient for the salvation of the sinful many. Abraham stops at ten, but as the history of the covenant moves forward the righteousness of Christ alone is sufficient for the deliverance of all. Christ Jesus sits “at the right hand of God...[and] intercedes for us” (Romans 8:34). Christ is like Abraham, petitioning his Father on our behalf: “Suppose there was one man found righteous, wilt thou not spare the city of man for his sake?” (Reno, Genesis (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 186)

God will not only answer definitely that one righteous individual will be enough to save the populace, God will supply the One.

Do you think that Abraham regretted breaking off the conversation when he did or is he content with the conversation’s resolution? Is God more or less merciful than Abraham had imagined? What would the city’s fate have been if a lone righteous soul had been found in Sodom? What is the most impact one person has had on a community? What impact do you have on yours?

“One person can make a difference and every person should try.” - John F. Kennedy (1917-1963)

Ananias: Not An Apostle (Acts 9:10-19)

Who prayed for Saul when he was healed from his blindness? Ananias (Acts 9:18)

Paul, still known as Saul, begins his journey from persecutor of the church to apostle when he is famously blinded on the Damascus road during an encounter with Jesus (Acts 9:1-9). God enlists Ananias, a disciple from Damascus, to intercede on the still blinded Saul’s behalf (Acts 9:10-19). The man who persecuted believers is now dependent upon one.

In a vision, God instructs Ananias that Saul will be awaiting him as he too has experienced a vision (Acts 9:10-12). Citing Saul’s notorious reputation, an apprehensive Ananias voices his concerns (Acts 9:13-14). God does not refute the reluctant disciple’s assessment but overrules his objection, confiding that Saul will play an important role in the church’s future (Acts 9:15-16). Ananias relents and does as he is commanded (Acts 9:17-19).

So Ananias departed and entered the house, and after laying his hands on him said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on the road by which you were coming, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” And immediately there fell from his eyes something like scales, and he regained his sight, and he got up and was baptized; and he took food and was strengthened. (Acts 9:17-19 NASB)

Ananias was a common name during the period. Harold S. Songer (1928-2005) observes:

Ananias is the Greek form of the Hebrew name Hannaniah (Hanni or Hanan) which means “God is gracious.” The name occurs frequently in the Apocrypha (cf. I Esdras 9:21, 43, 48; Judith 8:1; Tobit 5:12) and is used of three different persons in the New Testament [Acts 5:1, 9:10, 23:2]. (Watson E. Mills [b. 1939], Mercer Dictionary of the Bible, 28)

Rieuwerd Buitenwerf (b. 1973) researches:

See Tal Ilan [b. 1956], Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity Part I: Palestine 330 BCE-200 CE...On the list of most popular Jewish names...Hananiah (=Ananias) is seventh (pp. 56, 103-108). In Josephus [37-100]....are found...nine persons called Ananias. (Buitenwerf, Harm W. Hollander [b. 1949], Johannes Tromp [b. 1964], “Narrative History Based on the Letters of Paul”, Jesus, Paul, and Early Christianity: Studies in Honour of Henk Jan De Jonge [b. 1943] (Supplements to Novum Testamentum), 74)

Ananias proves to be the embodiment of his name. J. Bradley Chance (b. 1954) notes:

The name means “Yahweh is gracious.” Whereas the name is ironic when applied to the Ananias of Acts 5:1-11, it is fitting for this Ananias. Even more skeptical readers...acknowledge that Luke inherited this basic story from tradition, for he would not have “made up” a character with the same name as two other infamous characters in Acts (Acts 5:1-11, 23:2-5). (Chance, Acts (Smyth & Helwys Bible Commentary), 148)

Little biographical information is provided regarding Ananias but everything that is revealed is highly favorable. Tellingly, and unlike Saul in the preceding story (Acts 9:5), when Ananias is summoned he recognizes the voice (Acts 9:10). He answers the call with the stereotypical servant’s response (Genesis 22:1, 31:11; Exodus 3:10; I Samuel 3:4, 6, 8; Isaiah 6:8).

Ananias is deemed a “disciple” (Acts 9:10). Ben Witherington III (b. 1951) defines:

The term μαθητης is regularly used in Acts to refer to a Christian (cf. Acts 5:1, 8:9, 9:1, 10, 16:1), but it seems likely that Luke also uses the term of the followers of John the Baptist in Acts as he had in the Gospel (Acts 19:1; cf. Luke 5:33, 7:18). In this case it is clear enough that Ananias is a Christian disciple. (Witherington, The Acts of the Apostles : A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 317-18)

Ananias is well-informed as his assessment of Saul’s behavior is accurate (Acts 8:3, 9:1-2). Because he has only heard of Saul’s dealings and not experienced them first hand many have concluded that he is a native of Damascus and not a refugee who has fled persecution in Jerusalem (Acts 9:13-14).

Later in Acts, when Paul recalls Ananias’ intercession, he describes him as “a man who was devout by the standard of the Law, and well spoken of by all the Jews who lived there” (Acts 22:12 NASB). From this commendation it can be deduced that Ananias is a Jewish believer held in high regard in the Christian community.

Prior to Saul’s blindness, as a prominent Damascan disciple, Ananias was likely high on the persecutor’s hit list. Ananias is beckoned in a vision, a common medium for divine communication in Acts, especially when the Lord is doing something new (Acts 2:17, 9:10, 12, 10:3, 17, 19, 11:5, 16:9, 10, 18:9). He is likely in terror when informed that the man hunting down he and his friends is in town much less that he is to seek him out.

Ananias receives an assignment he clearly does not want. R. Kent Hughes (b. 1942) compares:

The hunted do not usually minister to the hunter. Normally that would be as crazy as Peter Rabbit caring for Mr. McGregor or Golda Meir [1898-1978] nursing Adolf Eichmann [1906-1962]. But this is exactly what happened in Saul’s case. (Hughes, Acts: The Church Afire (Preaching the Word, 130)

For Ananias to entertain an idea this crazy, God had to be in it!

Being asked to intercede on Saul’s behalf is a severe test of Ananias’ faith. One of the ultimate measures of faith is how the believer responds to counterintuitive imperatives (Exodus 14:16; I Kings 17:3-14; II Kings 5:10; John 9:1-11). Ananias passes this test with flying colors.

Ananias goes to Saul and administers the laying on of hands (Acts 9:17). The ritual is commonly associated with healing in Luke-Acts (Luke 4:40, 13:13; Acts 9:17; 28:8).

Clinton E. Arnold (b. 1958) chronicles:

In the Old Testament, the laying on of hands is done in connection with a special commission (as Moses did when he conferred the leadership of the nation on Joshua; Numbers 27:23) or with the imparting of a blessing (as Jacob did on his sons just before he died; Genesis 48:14). Jesus often laid his hands on people as he healed them. (Arnold, John, Acts (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 78)

Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) adds:

The imposition of hands takes on a curative aspect...As a gesture of healing, it is unknown in the Old Testament or in rabbinical literature but has turned up in 1QapGen 29:28-20, where Abram prays, lays his hands on the head of Pharaoh, and exorcises the evil spirt afflicting him and his household for having carried off Sarai, Abram’s wife. (Fitzmyer, The Acts of the Apostles (The Anchor Bible), 429)

Darrell L. Bock (b. 1953) differentiates:

Ananias will be the mediator of the restoration of Saul’s sight and of the Spirit’s filling. At Qumran, 1QapGen 20:28-29 mentions the laying on of hands to drive a demon away from Pharaoh, but this Qumranic text is not technically an exorcism, as there is no possession here, only oppression and demonic presence...What Ananias does is not designated to send a force away but to associate Saul with God...The purpose of laying on hands in this scene is obvious. The Spirit is connecting Saul to his brothers, as Ananias’s opening address affirms. He also is empowered for witness, a Pauline “Pentecost” (William J. Larkin, Jr. [b. 1945] 1995: 143 see Acts 9:15). (Bock, Acts (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 362)

C.K. Barrett (1917-2011) clarifies:

The laying on of hands is certainly not a rite subsequent to baptism; as usual in Acts, it is a sign of blessing, to be interpreted as the occasion suggests. Here it is an act of healing. (Barrett, Acts 1-14 (International Critical Commentary), 457)

Ananias’ intercession accomplishes its purpose as Saul regains his eyesight (Acts 9:18). This marks the only New Testament story outside of the gospels where a blind person’s sight is restored. The return of Saul’s sight is signaled by “something like scales” falling from his eyes (Acts 9:18 NASB). A similar film is removed from Tobit’s eyes in the Apocrypha (Tobit 3:17, 11:13).

The event marks Saul’s physical and spiritual healing. Saul is eventually filled with the Spirit though there is some debate as to when this occurs. I. Howard Marshall (b. 1934) rationalizes:

It is not clear whether in the present context it is also regarded as conveying the gift of the Spirit to Paul, and indeed this seems unlikely since here it precedes baptism, with which reception of the Spirit would normally be associated. At the same time Ananias indicated his commission from the same Lord who had already appeared to Paul to bring him healing and the gift of the Spirit. (Marshall, Acts (Tyndale New Testament Commentaries), 172)

Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) counters:

The conjunction of regaining sight and being filled with the Spirit seem to be two sides of one coin here. Hence when Acts 9:18 says he sees, it can be inferred that he has been filled. The visible sign of his filling is his healing (cf. Galatians 3:5). If so, there is once again considerable variety in the arrangements associated with the reception of the Holy Spirit in Acts. (Talbert, Reading Acts: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 87)

Regardless of when he is filled with the Spirit, Saul is initiated into the Christian community.

Remarkably, the dutiful disciple not only follows orders but seemingly does so ungrudgingly. Ananias’ words match his actions as he not only touches Saul but establishes rapport by receiving him as a “brother” (Acts 1:16, 2:29, 2:37, 3:17, 6:3, 7:2, 9:17, 13:15, 26, 38, 15:7, 13, 21:20, 22:1, 22:13, 23:1, 5, 6, 28:17.) Often lost in translation, Ananias also greets Saul using the Hebrew or Aramaic transliteration Saoul. Taken collectively, these gestures add up to a warm welcome demonstrating genuine love and kindness and more importantly, acceptance as a member of the community.

What is absent is also meanningful: At no point does Ananias reproach Saul! Saul has been accepted by God and that is good enough for Ananias.

William H. Willimon (b. 1946) interprets:

No longer does Ananias speak about “this man” [Acts 9:13] but to “Brother Saul.” The despised enemy, the alien, has become a brother. Does Luke intend the phrase “on the road by which you came’...to remind us of Acts 9:2 where the “way” refers to the believers? On the way to do in the followers of “the Way,” Saul was turned around and set on the way. (Willimon, Acts (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 77)

Lloyd J. Ogilvie (b. 1930) praises:

One of the most moving scenes in all of Scripture is what happened when Ananias went to Saul. He found the feared persecutor alone, blind, and helpless. All the hurt and fright Ananias had felt for what this man had done to his brothers and sisters in Christ drained away. The same Lord who told him to go to Saul lived in him and had given to him His own character traits of love and forgiveness. It was with the Lord’s deep compassion and acceptance that Ananias could say, “Brother Saul.”...How we need people to enact His love in a daring way by calling us by a name we have not yet earned or accepted for ourselves! (Ogilvie, Acts (The Preacher’s Commentary), 166-67)

The truce between Ananias and Saul represents the forgiveness possible through Christ, a reconciliation the would shape Paul’s ministry. Charles L. Campbell (b. 1954) connects:

There are few more dramatic pictures of the reconciling power of the risen Christ. The persecuted Ananias, in the power of the risen Christ, calls his former persecutor “Brother.” In Jesus, that is the kind of reconciled community that is possible. And for the rest of his ministry Paul will emphasize this reconciliation between “Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female.” Not only Paul’s life is changed by his encounter with the risen Christ, but the very character of the community itself begins to undergo a transformation. (Roger E. Van Harn [b. 1932], The Lectionary Commentary, Theological Exegesis for Sunday’s Texts: The First Readings – The Old Testament and Acts, 561-62)

Ananias’ response to Saul serves as a model for all Christians to accept new believers regardless of past actions.

Though Ananias plays only a cameo role in the New Testament, the part he plays is significant. Robert C. Tannehill (b. 1934) proclaims:

Ananias is an important figure in Acts 9. He is more than a messenger. His reaction to events is important. The narrator takes time to present this reaction and the Lord’s corrective response. Therefore, this episode is more than the story of Saul; it is the story of Saul and Ananias, a story of how the Lord encountered both and brought them together. (Tannehill, The Narrative Unity of Luke-Acts, A Literary Interpretation, Volume 2: The Acts of the Apostles, 115)

Behind every great Christian is another who instructed them along their way. Warren W. Wiersbe (b. 1929) correlates:

On April 21, 1855, Edward Kimball led one of the young men in his Sunday School to faith in Christ. Little did he realize that Dwight L. Moody [1837-1899] would one day become the world’s leading evangelist. The ministry of Norman B. Harrison in an obscure Bible conference was used of to bring Theodore Epp [1907-1985] to faith in Christ, and God used Theodore Epp to build the Back to the Bible ministry around the world. Our task is to lead men and women to Christ; God’s task is to use them for his glory; and every person is important to God. (Wiersbe, Be Dynamic (Acts 1-12): Experience the Power of God’s People, 137)

Christian history is filled with lesser known disciples who influenced influential followers. Other such examples are Johann von Staupitz (1460-1524) and Martin Luther (1483-1546), John Egglen and Charles Haddon Spurgeon (1834-1892) and Mordecai Ham (1877-1961) and Billy Graham (b. 1918).

Ananias leaves the Biblical text as abruptly as he enters it. His diminishing recognition begins in the Bible itself.

Mikeal C. Parsons (b. 1957) tracks:

In Saul’s autobiographical retellings Ananias’s role diminishes as Saul’s role expands (Ronald D. Witherup [b. 1950] 1992, 77). In Acts 22 Ananias tells Saul to receive his sight and that he will be a “witness” of all he has seen and heard. By Acts 26 Ananias drops out of the story completely. (Parsons, Acts (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 130)

Ananias is not referenced in any of the Pauline epistles. This is especially conspicuous when Paul writes the Galatians of his encounter with Christ and asserts that “I did not immediately consult with flesh and blood” (Galatians 1:16 NASB).

There is little doubt that Ananias is one the Bible’s unsung heroes.

How hard must it have been for Ananias to help Saul? Who would you recoil from assisting? When has God asked you to do something that seemed illogical? How would Paul’s story have changed without Ananias’ intervention? Why do you think that Ananias fades from the forefront? If God wishes Saul’s sight to be restored, why does he wait for Ananias’ arrival for the scales to fall? What is accomplished by Ananias’ involvement? Why is Ananias chosen for this task?

To complete his mission, Paul will need the acceptance of the church and Ananias is a credible witness to an incredibly important event.

Derek Carlsen remarks:

The Lord did not need to use Ananias, but the church needed Ananias’ testimony and it also shows that the Lord uses people in bringing about the accomplishment of His will. This should encourage us to faithfully minister where we are, knowing that our labor is not in vain (I Corinthians 15:58). (Carlsen, Faith and Courage: Commentary on Acts, 237)

On many levels, Ananias is an odd choice. Not only does enlisting Ananias break “apostolic succession”, he also has no official status within the church.

S. G. Wilson (b. 1942) discerns:

If the point of Acts 9 was primarily to show how Paul was absorbed into the Church’s tradition, or, as Ernst Haenchen [1894-1975] would have it, legitimised by the Twelve through their representative, then one might have expected Luke to have made a clearer line of contact between the Twelve or the Jerusalem Church and Ananias in Damascus. It is an oft-noted fact that Ananias, a Christian who apparently permanently resides in Damascus, suddenly appears in Acts 9 without any clue being offered how Christianity had spread from Jerusalem to Damascus. We are not told that the Twelve preached or legitimised preaching there as, for example, they did in Antioch and Samaria. (Wilson, The Gentiles and the Gentile Mission in Luke-Acts (Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series), 64)

Loveday Alexander characterizes:

Formally speaking, the laying on of hands here (Acts 9:17) is not apostolic. Ananias was not one of the Twelve, and there is no record that he himself was ever commissioned by the Jerusalem apostles. He acts simply as a believer, responding directly to the vision out of the conviction that he too has been sent...by the same Lord Jesus who appeared to Saul on the road. For Luke...Paul’s apostolic commission came not from Jerusalem but direct from the Lord himself. So Saul’s Damascus road experience leads him into a transformative encounter with the risen Christ. Its results are vision restored, rising to new life, baptism and filling with the Holy Spirit (Acts 9:17-18), and renewed strength (Acts 9:19). (Alexander, Acts: A Guide for Reflection and Prayer (Daily Bible Commentary), 79)

F.F. Bruce (1910-1990) concludes:

The commissioning of Saul, and the part played in it by Ananias, must ever remain a stumbling block in the path of those whose conception of the apostolic ministry is too tightly bound to one particular line of transmission or form of ordination. If the risen Lord commissioned such an illustrious servant in so “irregular” a way, may he not have done so again, and may he not yet do so again, when the occasion requires it? (Bruce, The Book of Acts (New International Commentary on the New Testament), 189)

Apostle or not, Ananias is a believer, a representative of God. And clergy or not, that is all he needs to be commissioned to do great things by God.

Why did God choose Ananias and not an apostle for the task of interceding for Saul? Do you believe that “apostolic succession” is a requirement for clergy? Who was instrumental in your spiritual development? Who have you interceded for? Who can you be interceding for?

“God will not look you over for medals, degrees or diplomas but for scars.” - Elbert Hubbard (1856-1915), The Note Book

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)

Citizen Paul: Trusting The System (Acts 24:7)

What was the chief captain’s name who rescued Paul from the mob in Jerusalem? Lysias (Acts 24:7)

When Paul’s nephew learned of an assassination plot on his uncle’s life, he immediately alerted the imprisoned apostle (Acts 23:12-16). In turn, Paul sent the lad to Lysias, the commander responsible for him (Acts 23:17-19, 26). Lysias acted swiftly and went to great lengths to ensure his prisoner’s safety (Acts 23:22-35). At Paul’s trial the prosecutor, Tertullus, lamented:

But Lysias the commander came along, and with much violence took him [Paul] out of our hands, ordering his accusers to come before you. By examining him yourself concerning all these matters you will be able to ascertain the things of which we accuse him.” (Acts 24:7-8 NASB)

Lysias ensured that Paul received due process of law.

While Lysias was certainly largely responsible for Paul’s safe arrival to his trial, Tertullus’ implicating of Lysias does not appear in all of the early manuscripts. J. Bradley Chance (b. 1954) explains, “The so-called Western text of Acts adds the following after ‘and we seized him’ (Acts 23:6): ‘and we would have judged him according to our law. But the chief captain Lysias came and with great violence took him out of our hands, commanding his accusers to come before you.’ It is not readily explainable why later copyists would have struck these words had they been a part of the original text of Acts (Chance, Acts (Smyth & Helwys Bible Commentary), 445).”

Outside of his intervening on Paul’s behalf, Lysias is unknown in the Bible. The text does inform that he was also referred to as Claudius Lysias (Acts 23:26). I. Howard Marshall (b. 1934) speculates:

Claudius will be the Roman name which he adopted when he became a citizen, and was probably chosen because it was the reigning emperor’s name. Lysias will then be his original Greek name, which became his cognomen on his assumption of Roman citizenship; it may indicate that he came from the Greek-speaking coastal area of Samaria. (Marshall, Acts (The Tyndale New Testament Commentaries), 371)

Lysias was a man of authority, a chilarchos, a position translations variously interpret as “commander” (CEV, HCSB, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT), “tribune” (ESV, NRSV, RSV), “chief captain” (ASV, KJV) or “captain” (MSG).

Luke Timothy Johnson (b. 1943) describes:

The chiliarchos (“leader of a thousand”) is the head of a “Cohort” (speira) which ideally consisted of a thousand soldiers, though the numbers in reality could vary. Since this unit could muster two centurions and some four hundred and seventy soldiers as an escort for Paul’s journey to Caesarea (Acts 23:23), it must have been at full strength. (Johnson, The Acts of the Apostles (Sacra Pagina), 382)

Despite being relatively high on the chain of command, in the Bible, Lysias is a middle man. He intercedes on Paul’s behalf by writing a letter to his superior, governor Felix (Acts 23:26-30).

Has anyone ever written a letter of recommendation on your behalf? Who has interceded for you? Why does Lysias go to such great lengths to aid a prisoner? Lysias could not afford to lose a prisoner, but especially not one of Paul’s social standing. Most commentators concur that Lysias acted as he did in part due to social convention, namely that Paul was born a Roman citizen (Acts 16:37, 38, 22:25, 26, 27, 29, 23:27). Lysias himself admits that the turning point in his attitude toward Paul came when he learned that the prisoner was a citizen (Acts 23:27).

Not only was Paul a Roman citizen, but a lifelong one; an important factor in the relationship between jailer and prisoner. Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) notes: “Since it was customary to take the name of the emperor in whose reign citizenship was acquired, the tribune’s name, Claudius Lysias (Acts 23:26), may suggest the time of his purchase, namely, during Claudius’s reign (Talbert, Reading Acts: A Literary and Theological Commentary on the Acts of the Apostles, 194).” As Claudius was a contemporary ruler, Lysias’ citizenship was likely a relatively new development.

Ben Witherington III (b. 1951) speculates,

That Paul was a Roman citizen by birth...threatened great damage to Claudius Lysias’ person and career...a severe breach of social convention would have been involved if a more “honorable” Roman citizen had been mistreated by one who had merely bought his citizenship...Probably Lysias had worked his way up through the military ranks but would have been barred from the rank of tribune because he was not already a citizen of equestrian rank. He solved this problem through a bribe. (Witherington, The Acts of the Apostles: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 681.)

In short, most believe that Lysias aided Paul in deference to his higher social status. If this is the case, not much has changed in two thousand years.

Throughout the plot to ambush him, Paul trusted the government and in fact, worked the system for passage to Rome. When the conspirator’s plot reached him, the apostle trusted his captors to do the right thing. This seems consistent with Paul’s public stance on the Christian’s relationship to the government (Romans 13:1-7).

Paul lived by the system and he would eventually die by the system as well. Tradition asserts that Paul was beheaded in Rome during the reign of Nero at Tre Fontane Abbey.

Have you ever changed your attitude towards someone based upon acquiring a new piece of information about them? Do you trust the system to work for you? Should you? Would Paul have trusted the government as much had he not been a Roman citizen? For Paul, was trusting the government an extension of trust in God?

“The trust of the people in the leaders reflects the confidence of the leaders in the people.” - Paulo Freire (1921-1997), Pedagogy of the Oppressed, p. 169

What to Pray? (Romans 8:26)

Who intercedes for us when we do not know how to pray as we ought? The Holy Spirit (Romans 8:26)

In Romans, Paul readily admits that there are times in which the Christian does not know what to pray (Romans 8:26). He then encourages the reader by informing that help is readily available:

In the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words; and He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. (Romans 8:26-27 NASB)

Paul was so adept at prayer that his prayers led to an out of body experience (II Corinthians 12:1-4) yet even Paul confessed to not always knowing what to pray.

In these instances, the Holy Spirit intercedes on behalf of the intercessor (Romans 8:26-27). The word used for “intercede” in Romans 8:26, huperentugchano, is a compound word comprised of huper (“over” or “on behalf of”) and entugchano ( “to turn to” or “to appeal”). It is a legal term used to express what an attorney does when speaking on behalf of a client and carries with it a connotation of “to make petition” or “to plead on behalf of another”. As the word is only used in Romans 8:26, it is never used of humans but rather only of the Holy Spirit. A.T. Robertson (1863-1934) explains that huperentugchano is “a picturesque word of rescue by one who ‘happens on’..one who is in trouble and ‘in his behalf’ pleads with ‘unuttered groanings’... or with ‘sighs that baffle words (Robertson, Word Pictures of the New Testament, 377).’” God is like a seasoned dentist who can interpret even our “groanings” when no one else can.

When have you wanted to pray but not known what to pray for? Why do we not know what to pray?

One of the keys to prayer is to align the intercessor’s desires with God’s. In the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus prays “your [God’s] will be done” (Matthew 6:10 NASB). Praying God’s will is often easier said than said as sometimes we do not know what God’s will is. Commenting on Romans 8:26-27, Douglas J. Moo (b. 1950) reminds “our failure to know God’s will and consequent inability to petition God specifically and assuredly is met by God’s Spirit, who himself expresses to God those intercessory petitions that perfectly match the will of God (Moo, The Epistle to the Romans (NICNT), 526).”

Our uncertainty when praying does not mean we should not pray or even that our prayers will be ineffective. Stormie Omartian (b. 1943) simplifies, “The Holy Spirit guides our prayers so that they are aligned with the will of God, and that makes them far more powerful and effective (Omartian, The Power of a Praying Life).”

What situations have you been in where you honestly did not know God’s will? Did you sense the Spirit interceding on your behalf?

“We don’t have to know how to pray in order to pray; we just need to know whom we seek.” - Janet Holm McHenry (b. 1951), Daily PrayerWalk: Meditations for a Deeper Prayer Life), p. 120