In the Cool of the Day (Genesis 3:8)

Who walked in the garden in the cool of the day? God (Genesis 3:8)

After God implants him in the Garden of Eden, Adam is given one (and only one) prohibition: “From the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat from it you will surely die (Genesis 2:17 NASB).” It takes Adam and his newly created helpmate, Eve, all of 14 verses to violate this edict (Genesis 3:6).

“The Fall” is one of the best known stories in all of Scripture: Adam and Eve fall for the serpent’s sales pitch, partake of the forbidden fruit and have their eyes opened to their own nakedness (Genesis 3:1-7). Fear replaces innocense resulting in Adam and Eve making the dubious decision to hide from Yahweh in the very garden the deity created for them (Genesis 3:8).

In the aftermath, they answer for their actions (Genesis 3:8-13). The transition from transgression to accountability begins with the first walk in the Bible. Yahweh reenters the scene, walking in the “cool of the day” (Genesis 3:8 NASB).

They [Adam and Eve] heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. (Genesis 3:8 NASB)

God walking with people normally signifies intimacy. Kenneth A. Mathews (b. 1950) relates:

“Walked with God” is a favorite expression in Genesis, depicting the righteous conduct of Israel’s heroes, including Enoch [Genesis 5:22, 24], Noah [Genesis 6:9], and Abraham [Genesis 17:1, 24:40, 48:15). Yet now the man and the woman are hiding from God in fear. God’s presence is also noted by his “walking” in the camp and sanctuary of Israel [Leviticus 26:12; Deuteronomy 23:14; II Samuel 7:6-7]. Later Israel recognized that God demanded holiness and obedience if he were to continue to “walk” among his people. It was part of the sad deception that the man and woman who wanted so much to be “like God,” rather than obtaining the stature of deity, are afraid even to commune with him. (Mathews, Genesis 1- 11:26 (New American Commentary), 239)

Genesis paints a serene picture. God is strolling through the garden on a pleasant afternoon (Genesis 3:8). Though the Bible never specifies how frequently God visits the garden after creation many have presumed that walking the garden was part of God’s routine.

Gordon J. Wenham (b. 1943) rationalizes:

“They heard the sound of the LORD God walking to and fro in the garden in the breeze of the day.” [Genesis 3:8] The description of Eden with its trees, rivers, gold, and so on emphasized God’s presence there. Therefore it seems likely that it was not unusual for him to be heard walking in the garden “in the breeze of the day,” i.e., in the afternoon when cool breezes spring up and the sun is not so scorching. Maybe a daily chat between the Almighty and his creatures was customary. The term “walking” (hithpael participle of הלך) is subsequently used of God’s presence in the Israelite tent sanctuary (Leviticus 26:12; Deuteronomy 23:14; II Samuel 7:6-7) again emphasizing the relationship between the garden and the later shrines. It is not God’s walking in the garden that was unusual, but the reaction of man and his wife. (Wenham, Genesis 1-15 (Word Biblical Commentary), 76)

Victor P. Hamilton (b. 1941) adds:

Toward sundown the man and the woman heard Yahweh walking in the garden. The verb used here to describe the divine movement—mithallēk—is a type of Hithpael that suggests iterative and habitual aspects. Such walks would take place in the early evening (the cooler time of day) rather than “in the heat of the day” (cf. Genesis 18:1). (Hamilton, The Book of Genesis: Chapters 1-17 (New International Commentary on the Old Testament Series), 192)

The Garden of Eden is never explicitly called the garden of God, but it is implied (Genesis 3:8). R. Kent Hughes (b. 1942) suspects:

Because God was present in the garden, we must not imagine that the opening line, “And they heard the sound of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day” (Genesis 3:8a), indicates that God came down to the garden. He was already there. It was his earthly palace, his garden-temple. What the couple heard was “the rustle of God’s step” (Gerhard Von Rad [1901-1971]). It was the sacred sound that they had heard before and that had so filled them with joy but now brought dread. (Hughes, Genesis: Beginning and Blessing (Preaching the Word), 77)

Contextually, it makes sense that God’s presence in Eden is commonplace. Adam and Eve are hiding from someone and as presumably the only people on earth, by default, that someone must be Yahweh. It would also be odd for God to appear in the garden only after Adam and Eve have sinned.

God walking in the cool of the day is not the anomaly. The aberration is the humans’ fear of their creator. Though they could be attempting to evade the mandated death sentence (Genesis 2:17), it does not appear that they hide out of fear but rather shame (Genesis 3:8).

Nothing in the text lends itself to the setting being any more than an ordinary day in the Garden of Eden. The implication is that prior to the Fall, humanity enjoyed open communion with God. Afterwards, the stewards of the garden become fugitives from it owner. Fellowship has been broken.

Normative or not, this encounter represents a Biblical milestone. Leon R. Kass (b. 1939) observes:

This is the first explicit mention that any human being really attended to or even noticed the divine presence. Only in recognizing our lowliness can we also discover what is truly high. The turn toward the divine is founded on our discovery of our own lack of divinity. (Kass, The Beginning of Wisdom: Reading Genesis, 91)

The image of Yahweh in this passage is highly anthropomorphic; the divine is personified with human characteristics. This depiction is a major departure for God from the initial two chapters of Genesis where his omnipotence and transcendence are on full display.

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

The event is described anthropomorphically. The lord of the garden took a walk in the pleasant afternoon when a breeze began to blow. As if he were naively relaxed, he took a stroll with the expectation to meet the man, appearing totally unconscious of what had just transpired. (Kessler and Deurloo, A Commentary on Genesis: The Book of Beginnings, 53)

This anthropomorphic imagery may sound bizarre to the modern reader but it is not uncommon in the text. Richard Nelson (b. 1945) acknowledges:

Modern readers will probably be uncomfortable with the depiction of God strolling about in the breezy cool of the day, but we have already run into God’s direct physical interaction with earthly things in Genesis 2:7 and Genesis 2:21-22. (Nelson, From Eden to Babel: An Adventure in Bible Study, 49)

Anthropomorphism is especially prominent in the J or Yahwistic material in Genesis. Gerhard Von Rad (1901-1971) examines:

The Yahwistic narrative is full of the boldest anthropomorphisms. Yahweh walks in the garden in the cool of the evening [Genesis 3:8]; he himself closes the ark [Genesis 7:16]; he descends to inspect the Tower of Babel [Genesis 11:5], etc. This is anything but the bluntness and naïveté of an archaic narrator. It is, rather, the candor and lack of hesitation which is only the mark of a lofty and mature way of thinking. This glasslike, transparent, and fragile way of thinking in the Yahwisic narrative makes of every exposition, which inevitably coarsens the original text, a difficult and almost insoluble task. (Von Rad, Genesis: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 26)

Donald E. Gowan (b. 1929) resolves:

Many have commented on the strong anthropomorphism of this verse, which speaks of the sound or voice of the LORD God walking about in the garden in the cool of the day, like any human garden-owner; but this may be seen as one of J’s typically subtle ways of making a point. These few words make it possible for us to conceive of a divine-human community where God intends to be seen face-to-face; J tells us that such a community is God’s intention, but it has been thwarted by our declaration of independence. (Gowan, Genesis 1-11: From Eden to Babel (International Theological Commentary), 55)

Many religions affirm an ancient period in which a god or gods walked alongside humans. Hermann Gunkel (1862-1932) critiques:

The old view that Yahweh dwelt in this Garden can still be heard here, if only dimly...a childish view of God. Ra, too, strolled “every day” among humans in the primeval period, “for his heart wished to see what he had created” (Adolf Erman [1854-1937], Die Äegyptische Religion, 154-55). (Gunkel [translated by Mark E. Biddle (b. 1957)], Genesis (Mercer Library of Biblical Studies), 18)

The anthropomorphism has long troubled interpreters. John L. Thompson (b. 1952) chronicles:

There remained an abiding concern to understand what it meant to “walk in the garden in the cool of the day”—a description that long ago offended Origen [184-253] for its crass anthropomorphism and drove him to deny the historicity of such accounts and to credit only figurative readings as authentic. The reformers, of course, bristled over Origen’s exegesis, yet Martin Luther [1483-1546] and John Calvin [1509-1564] had different takes on the ancient heresy of Anthropomorphites, who ascribed a literal body to God. (Thompson, Genesis 1-11 (Reformation Commentary on Scripture), 136)

Ronald H. Nash (1936-2006) recounts:

Augustine [354-430] once complained to Ambrose [337-397] that the God of the Bible had a body. When Ambrose asked where Augustine read such a thing, Augustine referred to Genesis 3:8 and its claim that the Lord God “was walking in the garden in the cool of the day.” Ambrose responded that he was amazed to be standing in the presence of a teacher of rhetoric who could not recognize nonliteral language. The simple recognition that the Bible sometimes uses figures of speech and nonliteral language eliminated many of Augustine’s misconceptions about Scripture. (Nash, Life’s Ultimate Questions: An Introduction to Philosophy), 142)

Yahweh is described as walking in the garden in the “cool of the day” (ASV, ESV, KJV, NASB, NIV, NKJV, RSV) or during an “evening (or ‘late...afternoon’) breeze” (Robert Alter [b. 1935], CEV, HCSB, MSG, NLT, NRSV). The traditional translation, “in the cool of the day”, became commonplace in the 16th century. The expression is rendered as such in the Great Bible (1540), the Bishop’s Bible (1558), the Geneva Bible (1560) and most notably the King James Version (1611).

Bruce K. Waltke (b. 1930) and Cathi J. Fredricks advise:

Cool of the day...is literally the “wind” or “spirit” of the day. The wind/spirit is the symbol of God’s presence (see Genesis 1:2). (Waltke with Fredricks, Genesis: A Commentary, 92)

Joseph Coleson (b. 1947) discusses:

The narrative includes the detail that God was walking in the cool of the day (lěrûah hayyôm); Hebrew rûah usually is taken as a substantive, meaning here, “wind,” or “breeze.” The phrase, “at the wind/the breeze of the day,” then, indicates midafternoon or a bit later, when the sun’s heat upon the earth had begun to abate and a pleasant breeze had sprung up. (Coleson, Genesis 1-11: A Commentary in the Wesleyan Tradition (New Beacon Bible Commentary), 126)

The poet John Milton (1608-1674) pictures:

To fan the earth now walked, and under in
The evening cool; when he, from wrath more cool,
Came the mild Judge, and the Intercessor both,
To sentence Man: The voice of God they heard
Now walking in the garden, by softwinds (Milton, Paradise Lose, Book X)

The scene is peaceful; there is a sense that the disunity that follows is neither necessary nor does it comply with God’s original intent (Genesis 3:8-13).

Traditionally the phrase “in the cool of the day” has been interpreted as denoting time. The Septuagint takes this tact, incorporating the Greek word for “afternoon” (το δειλινον).

E. A. Speiser (1902-1965) declares:

At the breezy time of day. The Hebrew preposition le may be used of time (cf. Genesis 8:11), but not temperature; hence the memorable “in the cool of the day” lacks linguistic support. The time involved is toward sundown, when fresh breezes bring welcome relief from heat. (Speiser, Genesis (The Anchor Bible), 24)

The Bible often provides time stamps. Kenneth D. Mulzac (1963-2008) surveys:

While Nehemiah denotes “fourths” of a day, the Old Testament makes no other such divisions. It speaks of the “cool of the day” (Genesis 3:8); cf. Song of Solomon 2:17), “heat of the day” (Genesis 18:1; I Samuel 11:11), “high day” (Genesis 29:7), “midday” (Nehemiah 8:3), “broad daylight” (Amos 8:9), and “full day” (Proverbs 4:18). (David Noel Freedman [1922-2008], Eerdmans Dictionary of the Bible, 324)

John Goldingay (b. 1942) interprets:

It’s late afternoon. In the Middle East this can be when you get an ocean breeze, and after the heat of the day it becomes more pleasant to be outside. (Goldingay, Genesis for Everyone, Part 1, 49)

W. Sibley Towner (b.1933) deduces:

The climatological perspective here is Palestinian, not Mesopotamian. Anyone who has lived in an area with a Mediterranean climate knows how pleasant it is when the sea breeze flows in to replace the hot air rising off the land at the end of the day. Yahweh apparently found it so as well. The delightful anthropomorphic description of God’s stroll fits well with the humanistic flavor of the entire story. (Towner, Genesis (Westminster Bible Companion), 46)

Hermann Gunkel (1862-1932) places the “cool of the day” in the morning:

הום לרוח is usually interpreted as the evening breeze. It does not begin, however, until “a few fours after sundown”...(Wilhelm Nowack [1850-1928], Lehrbuch der hebräischen Archäologie 1:51) and thus can hardly be called the “wind of the day.” It is better understood (so Peter Jensen [1861-1936], Kosmologie der Babylonier VI/1:573) as the cool sea breeze which arises in the early morning (Nowack, Archäologie 1:51) and reaches the mountain heights, e.g. Jerusalem, around 2:00-3:00 (Julius von Hann [1839-1921], Handbuch der Klimatologie III: 102-03; cf. Song of Solomon 2:17, 4:6 according to which the lovers remain together [in the night] “until the day breathes and the shadows flee”; cf. Karl Budde [1850-1935] on this passage). The transgression occurred at night; The new day brings remorse. This interpretation seems especially likely because the account concerns sexual sin. In Babylonia an exquisite light breeze blows from the northwest before sunrise (Hann, Klimatologie III: 106). The notion that the deity strolls in the Garden in the early morning is originally a myth from this period: when the treetops rustle and sway in the “day wind, the beloved Lord walks through the wood.” The assumption seems to be that his palace is in the Garden. An example of a gazebo located in a garden has now been found in Asshur (Mitteil. der. Deutsch. Or. Ges. 33 [1907]). (Gunkel [translated by Mark E. Biddle (b. 1957)], Genesis (Mercer Library of Biblical Studies), 18-19)

The Hebrew phrasing is problematic. John H. Walton (b. 1952) introduces:

This traditional translation is problematic. No precedent exists for interpreting the word for “wind” (rûah) as “cool.” An alternative using comparative information is that the phrase should be translated “wind of the storm.” (Walton, Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 35)

John H. Sailhamer (b. 1946) offers:

The phrase “wind of the day” (Genesis 3:8, literal translation) is often taken as an indication of the time of the Lord’s visit, that is, in “the cool of the day” or “the time of the evening.” The text says only “at/in the wind of the day” (cf. Jeremiah 13:24: “I will scatter them like chaff in the wind of the wilderness”). There is nothing in the context to suggest this expression refers to a time of day. In light of the general context of the picture of God’s coming in judgment and power, the “Wind” (rûah) envisioned by the author is more likely intended to resemble that “great and powerful wind”...that blew on the “mountain...of the LORD” in I Kings 19:11. Thus the viewpoint of the narrative is much the same as that of Job 38:1, where the Lord answered Job “out of the storm.” (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b. 1947], Genesis-Leviticus (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary), 87)

Umberto Cassuto (1883-1951) deciphers:

Numerous attempts have been made to explain this expression, which is found nowhere else in the Bible. The rabbinic expositions...do not reflect the actual sense of the verse. The interpretation of Nahmanides [1194-1270], and also of Benno Jacob [1862-1945] in modern times, that the man and his wife heard the voice of the Lord God in the wind...blowing in the garden, does not accord with the text. Many other explanations have been advanced, but they are unsatisfactory; equally unacceptable are the emendations that have been proposed, for example, that of Karl Budde [1850-1935]...lirwōah hayyōm [‘when the day became breezy’]...The view commonly held to-day is...the phrase signifies: at the time when the wind springs up towards evening (or, at dawn). This interpretation is open to a number of objections. In the first place, it is difficult to understand the prepositional Lāmedh as one of time, unless it is linked to an expression having a temporal meaning...It is possible, for instance, to say...lebhōqer [‘at morning’]...le‘erebh [‘at evening’]...liphnōth bōqer [‘at the approach of morning’]...le‘ēth ‘erebh [‘at the time of evening’], and so forth; but it is impossible to say...lesē’th baššō’ ăbhōth [literally, ‘at (or, to) women going out to draw water’]; the Bible writes le‘ēth sē’th haššō’ăbhōth [‘at the time when women go out to draw water]’] (Genesis 24:11). In order, therefore, to express the thought ‘at the time when the wind of the day blows’, it would have been necessary to write...le’ēth rūah hayyōm or its equivalent. Furthermore, even if we concede that this difficulty can be explained by reference to such doubtful examples as, when he knew...how to refuse the evil and choose the good (Isaiah 7:15), we must surely realize that the expression...rūah hayyōm cannot possibly indicate a wind blowing at a specific time of the day. This apart, seeing that the verse expressly comes to fix the time, there must doubtless be a reason for this, and it is inconceivable that this time should have no relation to the actual narrative; but the usual interpretation fails to establish such a connection. (Cassuto, A Commentary on the Book of Genesis, Part One: from Adam to Noah, 152-53)

If the expression does designate a time, this still leaves the question of why the time would be significant enough to chronicle. Many have seen symbolic meaning in the timing of the divine appointment viewing the prosaic scene as indicative of the relationship between Yahweh and creation prior to the Fall.

Jerome (347-420) preaches:

We read in Genesis that when Adam transgressed, when he paid heed to the serpent rather than to God, when he hid himself from the face of God, then God came into the garden and was walking about in the cool of day. Now listen to what Scripture says. God sought out Adam, not at midday but in the evening. Adam had already lost the sunlight for his high noon was over. Homilies 1. (Andrew Louth [b. 1944], Genesis 1-11 (Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture), 82)

Ignatius Jesudasan (b. 1939) remarks:

The cool of the evening, when God appears in the garden calling Adam to reckoning, signifies the time when Israel’s love for its royalty also had gone cold and lukewarm, and it was historically judged unworthy of God’s trusted gift, and hence exiled from the garden, through the instrumentality of foreign mercenary armies, represented in the myth by the so-called cherub angel, bearing a sword of fire, which swirls in all directions, guarding the access to the garden land [Genesis 3:24]. The death penalty imposed on Adam is the negation of the inclusive blessing of a prosperous life in the land promised to Abraham and his posterity, because that posterity had wilfully violated that blessing by human sacrifice to idols. (Jesudasan, Genesis Myth of Manifold Meanings, 80)

Others have taken a more literal approach. Michael E. Wittmer (b. 1967) documents:

P. Wayne Townsend [b. 1958] observes that the rules governing unclean things are the likely reason that God waited to confront Adam and Eve until the “cool of the day” (Genesis 3:8). According to Leviticus 11:25ff, an unclean person remained that way until evening. (Wittmer, Heaven Is a Place on Earth: Why Everything You Do Matters to God, 232)

Thomas L. Brodie (b. 1940) speculates:

After eating the forbidden fruit, humankind is not only on the earth; it is in trouble—taking cover from fig-leaves and hiding in the middle of the trees (Genesis 3:7-8). Yhwh God correspondingly walks in the breeze or cool of the day, away, so it is implied, from the noonday heat (Genesis 3:8)—not only an anthropomorphism but a suggestion of vulnerability. Vulnerable humankind seeks one form of shelter, God another: they, behind leaves and trees of the Garden: Yhwh God, in the cool of the day in the Garden. Like them, God knows what it is to want shelter. (Brodie, Genesis As Dialogue: A Literary, Historical, and Theological Commentary, 156)

The timing could just as easily demonstrate Yahweh’s consideration for Adam and Eve as any self interest on the part of the divine. Either way, it was certainly not the weather that caused Adam and Eve to retreat.

The timing could also be associated with the initial prohibition. Umberto Cassuto (1883-1951) connects:

It seems to me that the word...rūah is not to be understood as a substantive but as a verb in the infinitive, like...hōm [‘become hot’] in the phrase...kehōm hayyōm [literally, ‘as the day grew hot’ that is, at noon] (Genesis 18:1), and that it signifies: to be in the period after midday. Not only in Arabic does this stem...(rāha yarūhu) denote an action taking place in the afternoon—that is, from the time when the sun begins to decline from the meridian till evening—but it is also found in this sense in Ugatiric...Since the verb occurs in the ancient Canaanite language, we may surmise that we have here a Canaanite expression that survived also in the poetic idiom of the people of Israel. Apparently the ancient epic poem on the story of the garden of Eden contained the words...lerūah hayyōm, that is, at the time when the day...rāh—is in its second stage, namely, the afternoon. The Torah uses this phrase just as it uses other poetic expressions that occurred in the poem...ēdh [‘waters of the deep’] [Genesis 1:2]; pleasant to the sight and good for food [Genesis 2:9]; the flaming sword which turned every way [Genesis 3:24]; and other phrases...The purpose of fixing time in this verse is readily explicable in the light of that statement (Genesis 2:17): for IN THE DAY that you eat of it you will surely die. Although it is possible...to understand the words in the day in a general sense, that is, at the time, nevertheless Scripture wished to emphasize that the word of the Lord God was wholly fulfilled, even in its literal meaning. The man was told that in the day that he ate from the tree of life he would surely die, and lo! on the very day that he ate, in the afternoon of the selfsame day, the Lord God appeared and decreed that he should be banished from the garden of Eden, so that he might no longer be able to approach the tree of life and eat of it and be liberated thereby from the power of death. (Cassuto, A Commentary on the Book of Genesis, Part One: from Adam to Noah, 153-54)

Recent scholarship has considered an alternate reading which replaces the anthropomorphic God strolling through the garden with a dramatic theophany. Paul J. Kissling (b. 1957) relays:

Jeffrey Niehaus [b. 1946] has argued that by using another homonymous Hebrew root for the Hebrew word translated “day” (ם’, yōm) this word should be translated as “storm.” He also suggests using rarer, although well-attested meanings, for the Hebrew words translated “cool of” and “voice” as “wind” and “thunder.” This verse should then be translated, “Then the man and his wife heard the thunder of Yahweh God as he was going back and forth in the garden in the wind of the storm, and they hid from Yahweh.” What is being described according to Niehaus is a theophany. The fear recalls the reaction of Israel at Sinai (Exodus 20:18) and the accounts of the theophanies in Ezekiel 1:13 and Psalm 77:17-19...While this is possible, it seems more likely...that the fearsomeness of a theophany is a result of the Fall and its punishment. At this point the LORD is still seeking the intimate fellowship with the man and the woman that he always enjoyed. (Kissling, Genesis, Volume 1 (The College Press NIV Commentary), 198-99)

John H. Walton (b. 1952) expounds:

The word ruah can mean “wind” and “spirit” and yom means “day.” These two words do not occur together like this anywhere else in the Old Testament, so we find ourselves without sufficient synchronic evidence to arrive at a confident interpretation. It is certainly interpretive to deduce that “wind of the day” refers to “cool of the day” and therefore refers to cool evening breezes. But what else could “wind of the day” mean”? The words ruah and qol do occur together elsewhere, but only in the context of a storm (Jeremiah 10:13, 51:16) as a reference to “wind” and “thunder” respectively. If that is the appropriate understanding, what is the word “day” there for?...Akkadian terminology has demonstrated that the word translated “day” also has the meaning “storm.” This meaning can be seen also for this Hebrew word (yom) in Isaiah 27:8 and Zephaniah 2:2...The Akkadian term is used in connection to the deity coming in a storm of judgment. If this is the correct rendering of the word here in Genesis 3, we can translate Genesis 3:8 in this way: “They heard the roar of the LORD moving about in the garden in the wind of the storm.” If this rendering is correct, it is understandable why Adam and Eve are hiding. I do not offer this as the right translation. The major objection is that the word yom only rarely carries the meaning “storm.” The appearance with the other two words here and the logic of the context make this new rendering a possibility, but one that can only be held tentatively. (Walton, Genesis (The NIV Application Commentary), 224)

Meredith G. Kline (1922-2007) offers a different slant on the judgment theophany. In deference to Genesis 1:2, Kline contends that rûach should be translated “Spirit” which he connects to the “Spirit of God”. Further, he advances that the lamed preposition indicates “in the capacity of”, as it does elsewhere (Numbers 22:22, 32; II Chronicles 18:21; Isaiah 4:6; 11:10). Hence, Kline translates Genesis 3:8: “They heard the sound of Yahweh God traversing the garden as the Spirit of the Day.” Kline associates “Spirit” and “day” with both God’s unique creative activity (Genesis 1:2) and the divine eschatological judgment. (Kline, Kingdom Prologue: Genesis Foundations for a Covenantal Worldview, 128–31)

In selecting an interpretation, the stakes are exceedingly high as the choice one makes speaks directly to one’s image of God, which is ultimately what the text is about. God is either a deity who cleans house with no questions asked or a relational entity seeking communion with creation. God is either primarily concerned with rules and their enforcement or with the redemption of sinners, going so far as to personally seek offenders out to restore them to community. The traditional interpretation best fits the text as read through the lens of Jesus (John 3:16). The newer readings have linguistic support but neglect theology.

The traditional understanding allows for a calm before the storm. The storm still comes but the ephemeral calm makes all the difference.

Why is Yahweh walking in the garden? What does the phrase “in the cool of the day” add to the story (Genesis 3:8)? Why does God choose this particular time to appear? If you were in a parental role as is God in this scene, how would you have handled the disobedient Adam and Eve? How did Adam and Eve’s transgression affect their relationship with Yahweh? With whom do you go on pleasant evening walks? What does this story say about God? How do you imagine this scene? How do you picture God? Does Genesis’ anthropomorphic presentation bother you?

Yahweh is a hands on God who takes a great risk in interacting with creation. W. Lee Humphreys (b. 1939) assesses:

The lines between creator and creation seem initially clear in Genesis 2...But Yahweh God does not only establish his creation. He gets into it—allowing, prohibiting, adjusting, augmenting, and modifying what is judged not good. And depending on ha’adam’s response to the prohibition, the need for adjustment and modification may grow. Yahweh God of Genesis 2 is, like God of Genesis 1, neither sexed nor paired. But in entering the garden (even regularly “walking about” in it according to Genesis 3:8), in engaging and interacting with ha’adam, Yahweh God finds/forms an other to himself and becomes an other to ha’adam. In their interactions lies the potential for further development of each as characters, as they define themselves in relation to each other. Each character it seems has interests and a stake in their relationship. And it is possible these interests and stakes make conflict. Thus, by directly engaging one of those he formed, Yahweh God takes a risk that sets in motion a genuine story, a risk and potential for story not found in all the general grandeur and wonder of God’s creating and creation in Genesis 1. (Humphreys, The Character of God in the Book of Genesis: A Narrative Appraisal, 42)

God takes the risk of intertwining the fates of creator and creation and in this instance, there are tragic consequences. Robin Darling Young (b. 1951) laments:

Not only are relations between Adam and Eve different, relations between Adam and Eve and God are different. It’s not just that Adam and Eve are expelled from the Garden, but God is, too. No longer will He be walking among His human beings in the cool of the day. (Bill D. Moyers [b. 1934], Genesis: A Living Conversation, 58)

What does Adam and Eve’s rebellion cost God? Who suffers greater consequences, God or humanity? Is the chasm between creator and creation permanent? When and where do contemporary believers go to hear God; where is the modern equivalent to in the cool of the day in the Garden of Eden?

“What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.” A.W. Tozer (1897-1963), The Knowledge of the Holy, p. 1

Voice Recognition: (I Samuel 3:1-14)

Whose voice did young Samuel think he heard when God called him three times? Eli’s (I Samuel 3:4-8)

The third chapter of First Samuel describes a time of limited prophetic activity (not unlike our own) when “word from the Lord was rare” and “visions were infrequent” (I Samuel 3:1 NASB). The priest Eli and his young protégé Samuel are lying down at the Shiloh temple (I Samuel 3:2), the former resting by the ark of the covenant (I Samuel 3:3). After three verses establishing a highly ordinary setting, the pace picks up when God initiates action.

The Lord called Samuel; and he said, “Here I am.” Then he ran to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, lie down again.” So he went and lay down. (I Samuel 3:4-5 NASB)

When called, Samuel excitedly runs to answer the priest (I Samuel 3:5). His youthful enthusiasm is misdirected as he mistakenly interprets the voice’s origin. Fortunately, God’s call is deliberate and persistent. Undeterred, the Lord awakens Samuel four times (I Samuel 3:4, 6, 8, 10). In a comedic scene, three times the confused young man awakens Eli. After the third attempt, the seasoned priest recognizes that God is calling Samuel and instructs his pupil to respond in kind (I Samuel 3:8-9). The fourth time is the charm as Samuel receives the revelatory word (I Samuel 3:10-14). As such, Samuel first hears the voice of God while literally lying down on the job (I Samuel 3:4).

The setting is significant, symbolic of the nation’s theological predicament. Richard D. Phillips (b. 1960) observes:

The setting for Samuel’s calling is provocatively stated: “The lamp of God had not yet gone out” (I Samuel 3:3). This indicates that it was in the early hours before dawn that God called to Samuel, since the lamps were kept lit until morning. But this was also symbolically true: the lamp of God’s presence in Israel was dim but not completely out. In such a setting, the voice of the Lord was once more heard within his house. (Phillips, 1 Samuel (Reformed Expository Commentary), 65)

The light is scarce but it is not yet extinguished. The voice in the darkness mirrors the hope for renewal embodied in Samuel.

Kevin J. Mellish (b. 1968) adds:

The location where Eli and Samuel slept at the time of the theophany is also symbolic. Eli was in his own room and separated from the ark. Samuel was lying down in the temple...where the ark of God was (I Samuel 3:3). Based on this description, Samuel must have slept in the inner sanctuary where the ark resided. It is noteworthy that Samuel, the prophet/priest designate, remained near the presence of God, which was symbolized by the ark of the covenant. Eli, the soon to be deposed priest, slept at a distance from it. The imagery is fitting considering that Yahweh’s presence no longer abided with Eli as it was with Samuel, This is also the first, albeit brief, reference to the ark in Samuel. (Mellish, 1 & 2 Samuel: A Commentary in the Wesleyan Tradition (New Beacon Bible Commentary), 61)

Some have posed that Samuel’s position indicates that he is seeking just such a divine encounter. V. Philips Long (b. 1951) explains:

That Samuel is described as “lying down in the temple of the LORD, where the ark of God was” (I Samuel 3:3), has led some to speculate that he may have been engaging in a well-attested ancient Near Eastern practice called “incubation.” Incubation involves spending a night in the temple precinct in the hope of receiving a divine or oracular dream. The practice is attested among the Egyptians, with manuals of dream interpretation being used as early as the New Kingdom period, among the Hittites of Anatolia, and in Canaan during the biblical period...Extrabiblical examples of such theophanies, or auditory message dreams as they are sometimes called, come from Egypt (Thutmose IV, fifteenth century), Ugarit (in both the Kirta Epic and ‘Aqhatu Legend), Hatti (Hattušiliš, thirteenth century), and Babylonia (Nabonidus, sixth century). (John H. Walton [b. 1952], Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 1 & 2 Samuel (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 282-83)

Ralph W. Klein (b. 1936) counters:

We are not told why Samuel slept by the ark. The view that he was participating in some kind of incubation ritual seems contradicted by his repeated suspicion that Eli—and not God—was calling him. (Klein, 1 Samuel (Word Biblical Commentary), 32)

Instead, Samuel is likely taking his turn in fulfilling priestly duties. Robert D. Bergen (b. 1954) assumes:

While Samuel was fulfilling the Torah obligations to tend the lamp of God (cf. Leviticus 24:3; Numbers 18:23), the Lord called the youth and delivered a message of judgment to him. In a form paralleling Abraham, Jacob, and Moses’ obedient responses to divine calls (Genesis 22:1, 11, 31:11; Exodus 3:4), Samuel responded, “Here I am” (I Samuel 3:4). Because he did not initially know the Lord, however, Samuel at first went to Eli for further instructions (I Samuel 3:5-6, 8)...It is...probable that the writer included this note to demonstrate Samuel’s diligence in fulfilling Torah mandates. As a son of Aaron, Eli was required “to keep the lamps burning before the LORD from evening till morning” (Exodus 27:21; cf. Leviticus 24:3; also Numbers 18:23). However, since Eli apparently was too old for active service before Yahweh as a priest (cf. Numbers 8:23-26), the Levite Samuel was permitted to act as his surrogate in this matter (cf. Numbers 18:23). (Bergen, 1, 2 Samuel (New American Commentary), 86)

God calls Samuel while he is already on duty. Though Samuel does not know who is calling, he responds promptly and politely. Josephus (37-100) records that Samuel is only twelve years old at the time (Antiquities of the Jews 5.10.4).

It is clear that Samuel perceives the voice audibly, originating outside of himself. T.M. Luhrmann (b. 1959) determines:

The striking phenomenonological detail is that Samuel looked for the source of the voice. When someone gives you that detail—they heard a voice and then looked to see who was speaking—it is good evidence that they heard the voice with their ears. (Luhrmann, When God Talks Back: Understanding the American Evangelical Relationship with God, 344)

Samuel’s call marks a rare instance of a human hearing the audible call of God. Steven J. Andrews (b. 1954) and Robert D. Bergen (b. 1954) characterize Samuel’s experience:

Being so physically close to the Lord’s throne, Samuel was bound to meet him. All of chapters 1 and 2 has led up to this point. God was going to do something wonderful with this young man who was dedicated by his parents to minister before the Lord...Here was the moment of contact. Here was God’s call. It was personal and face-to-face. It was private when no one else was around. It came in God’s house in the early morning. Samuel answered...but he didn’t know who called him. He heard, but he wasn’t listening...God is certainly persistent. The verb call occurs eleven times in I Samuel 3:4-10. Anyone who has ever experienced a call from God can tell you that sometimes it is relentless. God does not give up. (Andrews and Bergen, I & II Samuel (Holman Old Testament Commentary), 32-33)

Samuel incorrectly assumes that the voice he hears is Eli’s. To explain this error, the text offers a narrative aside to remind the reader that Samuel has yet to hear the voice of God; Samuel is not yet the legendary prophet (I Samuel 3:7). One can hardly blame Samuel for his failure to recognize the voice. God has not spoken to him previously and Eli’s is the most likely voice. In this secluded setting, who else would be calling him?

Mary J. Evans (b. 1949) muses:

The story continues with the young Samuel asleep in the area where the ark of God was kept, a fact that shows how fully he had been integrated into priestly service. He hears a voice and immediately goes to Eli—maybe it was a regular occurrence for the almost blind Eli to need help. Samuel’s willingness to get up three times in the night, apparently without complaint, to attend to the ailing old man speaks well for the character of the young priest and draws attention to his worthiness to receive the prophetic word. (Evans, 1 and 2 Samuel (New International Biblical Commentary), 28)

Samuel’s mistake is also natural as the voice of God is often filtered through human beings. Kenneth Chafin (1926-2001) acknowledges:

How easy it still is not to be able to discern God’s voice from other voices. It would be so much easier if all of God’s messages to us came with a clearly printed label: “From God.” But, as my colleague, Frank Tupper [b. 1941], says, “God speaks to us through familiar voices.” While there is a tendency to think of the more dramatic revelations of God as normative, most people experience God’s guidance in quite ordinary ways: through experiences good and bad, while reading the Scripture, through the counsel of another, or out of a growing interest. (Chafin, 1, 2 Samuel (Mastering the Old Testament), 46)

Eugene H. Peterson (b. 1932) adds:

Learning to discern the difference between human words and God’s word is basic to his prophetic and priestly life: Samuel listens. Listening is an act of personal attentiveness that develops into answering. The emphatic “Let anyone with ears listen!” with which Jesus concluded his parables (Matthew 13:9, 43) is repeated in the Spirit’s urgent messages to the churches in the Revelation (Revelation 2:7, 11, 17, 29, 3:6, 13, 22)...Samuel answers, which is to say, he prays...Samuel’s very existence is a result of prayer, the prayer of his praying mother, Hannah. The story of his call in the temple, introducing his prophetic vocation, shows him learning how to pray for himself, that is, listen to God’s personal word to him and then respond. (Peterson, First and Second Samuel (Westminster Bible Companion), 38-39)

Ironically, Eli the priest is seldom depicted speaking for God. Yet here it is Eli, not Samuel, who correctly discerns the voice of God. Eli is finally doing his job: presenting a worldview with God at its center.

Alister E. McGrath (b. 1959) writes:

On the first three occasions, Samuel assumes that the natural sound he has heard has a natural referent, and behaves accordingly...The turning point of the narrative takes place when Eli offers an alternative interpretive framework. Confronted with the evident failure of the most obvious schema, Samuel is invited to consider an alternative explanation of his experience (I Samuel 3:9). Eli can here be seen as a representative of the tradition of Israel, which offers an alternative way of interpreting nature – in this case, as a gateway to the transcendent. God is made known through the natural order. (McGrath, The Open Secret: A New Vision for Natural Theology, 176)

It might have even been presumptuous for Samuel to assume that God is calling him. Jack M. Sasson (b. 1941) elucidates:

It is not a lack of intelligence that prevents Samuel from understanding what Eli does comprehend but rather a profound psychological block. Is it possible that God is calling him rather than Eli the priest? Conversely, Eli apprehends what Samuel fails to see, not because of superior intelligence or experience, but because he lacks the inhibitions generated by self-interest. Nothing deters him from assuming that God might turn to the young servant and pass over the old priest! In this way, Eli’s humility compensates for Samuel’s. (John Kaltner[b. 1954] and Louis Stulman [b. 1953], Inspired Speech: Prophecy in the Ancient Near East Essays in Honor of Herbert B. Huffmon [b. 1933], 179)

God speaks to Samuel in such a way that causes Eli to fulfill his primary duty as priest: directing his congregant to God. In some small way, Eli redeems himself. In a sad irony, God’s message to Samuel is confirmation of the fall of Eli’s household (I Samuel 3:11-14). Tragically, Eli’s most effective act as priest occurs while mediating his displacement.

Dallas Willard (b. 1935) praises:

How wonderful that Eli recognized what was happening to young Samuel and could tell him what to do to begin his lifelong conversational walk with God! Otherwise, it might have been years before Samuel would have found his way by himself. We must not mistakenly assume that if God speaks to someone, he or she automatically knows what is happening and who is taking. If Samuel did not know, surely many others also would not. (Willard, Hearing God, Updated and Expanded: Developing a Conversational Relationship with God, 143-44)

In this case, as in many, effectively hearing God is an act of collaboration. For God’s voice to be heard, the lad needs to be open to it, but he also needs guidance from an elder.

Though the passage illuminates the struggle that clergy experience in discerning their calling, discerning the voice of God and distinguishing it from one’s own is a universal challenge that plagues clergy and laymen alike. Hearing God’s voice is often difficult. But it does not mean that God is not speaking.

Eugene H. Peterson (b. 1932) asserts:

God speaks to Samuel. That God speaks is the basic reality of biblical faith. The fundamental conviction of our faith is not so much that God is, as that God speaks. The biblical revelation begins with God creating by word, speaking the cosmos into being (Genesis 1:1-31). It concludes with Jesus, the Word of God, speaking in invitation, “Come...” (Revelation 22:17). All the pages in between are packed with sentences that God speaks—in creation and invitation, in judgment and salvation, in healing and guidance, in oracle and admonition, in rebuke and comfort. The conspicuous feature in all this speaking is that God speaks in personal address. God does not speak grand general truths, huge billboard declarations of truth and morals; the Lord’s speaking is to persons, named persons: Abraham, Moses, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Paul. And Samuel. Personal address, not philosophical discourse or moral commentary or theological reflection, is God’s primary form of speech. Whenever we let the language of religious abstraction or moral principles (and we do it often) crowd the personal address, we betray the word of God. (Peterson, First and Second Samuel (Westminster Bible Companion), 38)

Though God speaks, hearing is not often easy. Even Samuel, who literally lives in the temple, struggles to do so. Samuel’s experience demonstrates that a person can even be in the precarious position of encountering God without knowing it.

Norman J. Cohen (b. 1943) cautions:

Samuel reminds all of us how difficult it is to truly hear, see, and meet the other in our lives. When we finally do experience a moment of recognition and engagement, we sometimes are so overwhelmed that we cannot find the right words to express what we are thinking and feeling. As we are overcome with emotion, both elation and fear at the same time, words may seem impossible. (Cohen, “The Difficulty of Discerning the Call”, Hineini in Our Lives: Learning to Respond to Others Though 14 Biblical Texts & Personal Stories, 81)

Like all prophets, Samuel’s first prophetic act is to listen. His experience demonstrates that disambiguating the voice of God is a learned skill. This provides both a challenge and hope for us all as we echo Samuel’s words: “Speak, for your servant is listening (I Samuel 3:10 NASB).”

Why does God not make his identity more obvious when dealing with Samuel? When have you been called by an unfamiliar voice? If God called you, how would you know? Have you ever audibly heard God? In your mind, whose voice is most like God’s? What would have happened to Samuel had Eli failed to direct him? When has God spoken to you through a “familiar voice”? In what ways has God spoken to you? How have you been changed by the voice of God?

God speaking to Samuel forever changes his and his nation’s history. James E. Smith (b. 1939) notes:

One night (literally, “it came to pass on that day”) suggests that the day was special, a milestone in Samuel’s rise to leadership, and consequently in redemptive history. (Smith, 1 & 2 Samuel (The College Press NIV Commentary), 74)

The third chapter of First Samuel relays a coming of age story as Samuel is moving from “lad” to prophet. Samuel does not become a renowned prophet over night.

Richard L. Schultz (b. 1952) clarifies:

Hearing God’s call did not suddenly move Samuel from childhood to adulthood; following this encounter he still had to “grow up” (I Samuel 3:19). This text emphasizes God’s judgment on blatant sin in the family of Eli, Israel’s religious leader. It also portrays God’s careful preparation of Samuel for significant spiritual and political leadership as one who was open to hearing God’s voice and obeying. (Schultz, Out of Context: How to Avoid Misinterpreting the Bible, 86)

Samuel’s experience invites a discussion of calling. John Goldingay (b. 1942) projects:

Speaking with students often suggests to me that we think of ministry as something that enables us to find fulfillment, as it makes it possible for us to give expression to the gifts God has given us. Discernment thus begins as our seeking to perceive what our gifts are and how we may express them. There’s none of this way of thinking in the Old Testament or the New Testament. Samuel is not called because this will be the way he finds fulfillment...Given that the connotations of the word “call” have changed, we might do better to use the word “summons” rather than “call” to describe what happens to Samuel or Paul. Samuel gets the idea when he recognizes in the middle of the night that his boss has summoned him to do something, so he reports for duty; he just doesn’t realize which boss it is...There is nothing wrong with people using their gifts to serve God...It just has nothing to do with calling. (Goldingay, 1 & 2 Samuel for Everyone, 31)

As the message Samuel receives concerns Eli, many note that I Samuel 3:1-21 is not technically a call narrative. Anthony F. Campbell (b. 1934) advances:

The initiative is...given to Eli, and the focus of interest moves to his reaction. The story comes to rest with his acceptance...It is important to recognize that this is not a prophetic call narrative; there is no call. It may serve in place of a call narrative, since after this first experience of God’s word Samuel continues as a trustworthy prophet of the Lord. For all that, it is not a call narrative. (Campbell, 1 Samuel (The Forms of the Old Testament Literature), 57)

In contrast, Ronald F. Youngblood (b. 1931) offers:

The literary genre of I Samuel 3 has usually been considered a prophetic-call narrative in the grand tradition of Exodus 3 (Moses), Isaiah 6, Jeremiah 1, and the like. Recently, however, on the basis of ancient Near Eastern parallels, Robert Gnuse [b. 1947], in The Dream Theophany of Samuel: Its Structure in Relation to Ancient Near Eastern Dreams and Its Theological Significance has theorized that I Samuel 3 is best analyzed as an auditory message dream theophany. Although he sometimes tilts the evidence in his direction...his arguments are impressive...Of course, the genre could turn out to be a blend of both types (a not uncommon feature of Old Testament literature)—prophetic-call narrative plus auditory message dream theophany. But the advantage of Gnuse’s analysis is that it deals adequately with the fact that the Lord speaks to Samuel at night—a matter not handled convincingly by the theory that I Samuel 3 is a prophetic-call narrative and nothing more. (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b. 1947], 1 Samuel-2 Kings (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary), 65)

Some argue that as Samuel is awake as the story unfolds, the story cannot accurately be labeled a dream theophany. What cannot be argued is that this story marks a new era for Samuel and Israel. Samuel becomes an agent of change in both the nation’s religion (as a prophet) and politics (as the anointer the kings). His authorization to do so is significant.

Robert Alter (b. 1935) remarks:

The idea of revelation...is paramount to the story of Samuel, whose authority will derive neither from cultic function, like the priests before him, nor from military power, like the judges before him and the kings after him, but from prophetic experience, from an immediate, morally directive call from God. (Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative, 109)

Walter Brueggemann (b. 1933) expounds:

The narrative takes great care to show that Samuel’s credibility does not rest on any conventional political confirmation. Rather, Samuel is presented as having an authorization rooted in nothing other than the freedom and promise of God. Samuel’s freshly authorized voice in Israel’s public life stands over against all conventional modes of power and brusquely displaces them. Surely the old Israelites—and the storytellers—are political realists. They understand how political-priestly power works, how it is secured, maintained, and exercised. They want to assert, at the same time, a holy governance that matters in concrete life, a holy governance that is not bounded by accustomed power, by ordained authority, by conventional leadership. There is a chance for newness. (Brueggemann, First and Second Samuel (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 27)

Samuel is authorized to lead, but more importantly Samuel becomes Samuel through the process. His purpose is completely changed as he finds his identity in connection to God.

Francesca Aran Murphy (b. 1960) analyzes:

In order to become a moral individual, a person, Samuel must be called out of the familial collective and enter a direct relationship to God. God does not, here, just call an individual to effect a change in Israel’s culture: he creates an individual so to do...Only when the Lord calls with a single voice and reveals his unity, and only when the recipients of this revelation absorb communication of “Who he is,” can they become unified individuals, persons who act on history and cocreate it. (Murphy, 1 Samuel (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 29)

Merold Westphal (b. 1940) informs:

It takes little imagination to hear the resonances of Emmanuel Levinas [1906-1995]’s me voici, whose origins in any case are biblical, in Samuel’s “Here am I.” While this speech act is an expression of Samuel’s freedom, there is more heteronomy than autonomy in it. He does not originate the conversation but is called, called forth, even called into being by a voice not his own. The meaning of the situation in which he finds himself is not determined by his horizons of expectation, which are simultaneously surprised and shattered. Nor is it just his situation that is changed; his very identity is changed, as he becomes no longer merely Hannah’s son or Eli’s helper, but the one who stands coram deo, in God’s presence, by a call that is at once invitation and command. Everything begins with “you called me.” Prayer is the beginning of responsibility because it begins as response...He identifies himself as the servant before his Lord...Actually, when he responds in accord with Eli’s instruction, he does not name the speaker, but simply says, “Speak, for your servant is listening.”...The heavy lifting is done by Samuel’s self-identification as the servant of the speaker, whose divinity he now recognizes. He calls himself ebbe, a bond-servant. (Bruce Ellis Benson [b. 1960] and Norman Wirzba [b. 1964], “Prayer as the Posture of the Decentered Self”, The Phenomenology of Prayer (Perspectives in Continental Philosophy), 17)

Samuel’s awakening is intended to awaken us to our calling as well. Though we may not be called to be prophets or national leaders, our true identity is to be found as servants of God.

Who are today’s change agents? What have you been authorized to do? What has God called you to do? Have you found your identity in God?

“Not only do we not know God except through Jesus Christ, but also we do not know ourselves except through Jesus Christ.” - Blaise Pascal (1623-1662), Pensées, p. 7

Wear Shoes, No Service (Exodus 3)

Where did Moses take off his shoes? At the burning bush (Exodus 3:1, 5)

As the leader of the exodus, Moses plays a significant role in the Bible but before leading the Israelite people, he leads Midianite sheep (which may have been as good a precursor as any). Moses is exiled in Midian where he marries the daughter of the local priest (Exodus 2:15-22). While tending his father-in-law’s flock on Mount Horeb, the extraordinary breaks into the ordinary when God famously appears to Moses in the form of a burning bush that is not consumed by the flames (Exodus 3:1-2). This is known as a theophany, a visible manifestation of God. Some have quipped that the burning bush is also the first road sign.

God immediately sets the tone of the encounter by issuing two commands: come no closer and remove your footwear (Exodus 3:5).

Then He said, “Do not come near here; remove your sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” (Exodus 3:5 NASB)

Moses is naturally terrified (Exodus 3:6). In the midst of this alarming scene, Moses’ choice of footwear was likely the furthest thing from his mind and the text makes no mention of whether or not he regains the composure to comply but the presumption is that he did so. Promptly.

Marc Vervenne (b. 1949) observes:

Moses is allowed and even called upon to stand on holy ground, but he is not to approach any more. Exactly the same situation is presented by the tale of the Sinai revelation: Israel is called upon to stand on the outskirts of the holy precinct on a given moment, but may not ascend the mountain any more [Exodus 19:12-13]. Like Moses before they are standing on the border of the holy. The veil has been lifted but not removed. (Vervenne, Studies in the Book of Exodus, 135)

The encounter transforms Moses’ life. Max Lucado (b. 1955) remarks:

With these...words Moses in enrolled in a class on God. Immediately the roles are defined. God is holy. Approaching him on even a quarter-inch of leather is too pompous...no time is spent convincing Moses what Moses can do, but much time is spent explaining to Moses what God can do. (Lucado, The Great House of God, 27)

At the burning bush, God calls Moses to lead the exodus and the tale’s dramatic features and historic impact make it one of the Bible’s most famous stories. Stephen J. Binz (b. 1955) lauds, “The mission of Moses is the prototype of the many other calls that will follow in the history of salvation. Of all the vocation narratives in the Bible, this is the longest and most memorable (Binz, The God of Freedom and Life: A Commentary on the Book of Exodus, 20).”

The directive to remove his shoes was a significant enough detail to be incorporated into Stephen’s retelling of the history of Israel in Acts (Acts 7:33). Peter Enns (b. 1961) writes, “Why...must he remove his sandals? This is a sign of reverence common in the ancient Near East, a practice that continues to this day. Joshua is commanded to do the same in Joshua 5:15 (Enns, Exodus (The NIV Application Commentary), 98).”

As Enns alludes, removing one’s shoes is still a sign of reverence in parts of the world. In deference to this passage, certain Hasidic groups remove their shoes before approaching the grave site of a holy person. The practice clearly has ancient roots. J. Gerald Janzen (b. 1932) explains:

On entering one’s tent or someone else’s, one removed one’s sandals to walk cleanly on the rug spread on the ground. A host’s invitation to remove one’s sandals (especially the offer to remove them and wash the feet, as in Genesis 18:4 and John 13:1-17) was an offer of hospitality—an offer of one’s home as the visitor’s home away from home. One accepted such hospitality by respecting the sanctity of the host’s space and moving about in it courteously. If the God of the ancestors, whom contemporary scholars characterize as a family or clan God, could receive such hospitality at Abraham’s hands (Genesis 18:1-8), it should not be surprising to find the same imagery used here, where Moses finds himself in the presence of that same God (Exodus 3:6)...Moses finds himself in a presence that is unfathomably sacred, a presence that invites him to be at home at the same time that it claims his profound respect. He who has felt himself “an alien residing in a foreign land” (Exodus 2:22) now finds himself a guest of God. (Janzen, Exodus (Westminster Bible Companion), 28-29)

Douglas K. Stuart (b. 1943) expounds:

There are many references in the Bible to taking off or putting on sandals, but none has any connection with holiness except this one. Presumably, taking off shoes was done when entering the presence of a superior person which usually would occur formally when one was at the superior person’s house, palace, or tent. Thus Sinai/Horeb is here implicitly identified as “Yahweh’s place.” Thus the very ground is holy—something said of no other location in the Bible. (Stuart, Exodus (The New American Commentary), 114-115)

Carol Meyers (b. 1942) adds:

The descriptions of priestly attire in the tabernacle passages do not mention priestly footwear [Exodus 28:1-43, 39:1-31; Leviticus 8:5-9); presumably priests went barefoot as they traversed the sacred precincts of Israel’s god. A similar removal of shoes as a sign of respect in the domain of the deity is found in the custom of Muslims taking off their footwear as they enter a mosque; and to this very day, members of priestly families traditionally remove their shoes when they recite certain blessings in the synagogue. (Meyers, Exodus (New Cambridge Bible Commentary), 53)

While shoes certainly serve a practical purpose, Moshe Chagiz (1671-1750) posited that there might also be a spiritual dimension to God’s request. Nosson Scherman (b. 1935) documents:

Moshe Chagiz offer a deeper reason for wearing shoes. Man does not want to touch the ground directly because the ground was cursed as a result of Adam’s sin [Genesis 3:17]...Thus, man took to wearing shoes...Shoes are only worn on accursed ground; on holy ground, one goes barefoot, making contact with the ground. (Scherman, Yom Kippur, 77)

Some still find spiritual value in making a barefoot pilgrimage. Barbara Brown Taylor (b. 1951) challenges:

Take off your shoes and feel the earth under your feet, as if the ground on which you are standing really is holy ground. Let it please you. Let it hurt you a little. Feel how the world really feels when you do not strap little tanks on your feet to shield you from the way things really are. (Taylor, An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith, 67)

What do you do to indicate respect? When do you take your shoes off? How do you think the sheep responded to the burning bush? Had Moses been hiking barefoot, what would God have commanded him to do? What made the ground holy?

Terence E. Fretheim (b. 1936) clarifies:

This ground is now holy because of God’s appearance, not because it was already holy. There is no holiness inherent in the place as such, no natural sanctity, but that which is not holy now becomes so by virtue of the divine purpose for the place (not just the divine presence). That which is an ordinary part of the natural order is sanctified, set apart for special use by God. This setting apart was not only for this occasion but also for the future. God’s appearance to Moses establishes Sinai/Horeb as a sacred place (cf. Exodus 3:12; Genesis 28:16-17). God draws a particular plot of ground, an aspect of the creative order, into a new sphere of relationship. (Fretheim, Exodus: Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching, 56-57)

As evidenced by Moses’ wilderness encounter with God while completing a mundane task, God’s holy ground is not limited to the walls of a church or to any single place. Meyers records:

At this point, the notion of sacred space becomes an explicit part of the narrative for the first time in the Hebrew Bible. The word for “place,” māqôm, is often a technical term in biblical Hebrew for a sanctuary or holy place (cf. Genesis 28:11, 19); and “holy ground” likewise connotes sacred space. (Meyers, 53)

Douglas K. Stuart (b. 1943) adds:

The theme of the divine Presence is a major topic of Exodus. It often is emphasized by commands requiring distance from God so as not to intrude too far on his holiness, proximity to which carries with it danger to the person not properly prepared (sanctified). This passage, with its come-no-further command, is remarkably parallel to that of Exodus 19:9-25, where a series of conditions of sanctification (procedures that confer holiness) and distance...are imposed upon the Israelites. Thus what God’s people would eventually have to learn from God through him, Moses now began to learn from God. (Stuart, Exodus (The New American Commentary), 114)

Not even Moses was exempt from recognizing God’s holiness. This is the first time that the Hebrew noun for “holy” (qodesh) is used in Scripture. Donald E. Gowan (b. 1929) explains:

“Holiness” has been identified as the quality of divinity itself, as the term is used in scripture, and so it seems that Exodus begins talking about God where we ought to begin. (Gowan, Theology in Exodus: Biblical Theology in the Form of a Commentary, 26)

How do you acknowledge God’s holiness? Have you known any preachers who assumed the pulpit barefooted in deference to this passage? Is there any place that should be considered holy ground today?

“Moses at the burning bush was told to take off his shoes because the ground on which he stood was holy ground (Exodus 3:5), and incarnation means that all ground is holy ground because God not only made it but walked on it, ate and slept and worked and died on it. If we are saved anywhere, we are saved here. And what is saved is not some diaphanous distillation of our bodies and our earth, but our bodies and our earth themselves. “ - Frederick Buechner (b. 1926), Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC, p. 52