The ‘Breastplate Of Righteousness’ In Ephesians 6:14: Imputation Or Virtue?

By David H. Wenkel

[David H. Wenkel is an adjunct faculty member at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, Deerfield, Illinois.]

Summary

This study examines the long-standing disagreement over the nature of the ‘breastplate of righteousness’ in Ephesians 6:14. One position argues that the righteousness is external, consisting of imputed righteousness. The other position argues that the righteousness is internal, consisting of Christian virtues. This study includes a brief survey of Paul’s usage of spiritual armour in other Epistles and an examination of the Isaianic background of spiritual armour. After examining the metaphor of the ‘armour of God’ and the context in Ephesians, it is argued that the breastplate is ethical, consisting of virtues that reflect Christ.

1. Introduction

The armour of God in Ephesians 6:10-20 is part of the staple diet of both children’s church lessons and Sunday morning preaching. The imagery and the application of Paul’s doctrine to Christian life make it a significant source for contextualisation and spiritual warfare issues. The purpose of this article is to examine the nature of the breastplate of righteousness in Ephesians 6:14b:

Stand firm therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; in addition to all, taking up the shield of faith with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.[1]

What has been debated for several centuries is where this righteousness of the breastplate is derived from.[2] Though the discussion of spiritual warfare and the armour of God occurs in innumerable sources, the nature of the armour of ‘righteousness’ is often accompanied by data that provides knowledge about the text, but not necessarily knowledge of what the text is about.[3] There are two prominent views regarding the nature of the righteousness referred to by the breastplate. The first view posits an external righteousness to the believer by imputation of Christ’s righteousness.[4] The second view posits an internal righteousness of the believer that consists of virtue.[5]

2. Intentional Ambiguity

Due to the polarity in interpretations of the breastplate of righteousness it is not inappropriate to ask the question of whether the use of an Old Testament quotation by Paul is grounds for considering double meaning.[6] To be succinct, the notion that Paul would allude to or quote Isaiah in order to communicate something wholly different from what Isaiah himself meant would be both nonsensical and confusing if not misleading to the original recipients who were familiar with the OT.[7]

The purpose of quoting Isaiah would be to bolster the authority of his message by demonstrating its continuity with the Prophets and/or to communicate something in a particular way (viz. the armour metaphor) that had already been used in the OT. These purposes would be negated by using such a direct reference in a way that would have been alien to the original recipients. In other words, the notion of double meaning would destroy Paul’s usage of Isaiah as a communicative act and as a source of reference to OT concepts. If we understand that quotations and allusions generally enhanced the authority of the author’s own writings, it would seem puzzling to use a midrash technique that is associated with superfluity rather than hermeneutical modesty.[8] Because the quotations of Isaiah are being used to bolster an argument, any recourse to a hermeneutic that asserts intentional ambiguity requires substantial evidence in the text itself. Such evidence does not appear in the text of Ephesians chapter 6.

3. Spiritual Armour And Weaponry

Before examining Ephesians in particular, a consideration should be made of Paul’s use of weaponry and armour imagery in Epistles other than Ephesians.

The most common word for weaponry and armour is ὅπλα. This word is common in the Septuagint (LXX). The word ὅπλα refers to weaponry or a shield in 1 Samuel 17:7; 2 Kings 10:2; and Nahum 2:3 [2:4 LXX]. In 1 Kings, the word ὅπλα is used three times to refer to shields (10:17; 14:26, 27). In 2 Chronicles, it refers twice to weapons and shields (2 Chr. 23:9; 32:5) and once where a reference to weapons is possible (2 Chr. 21:3).[9] In the OT, there are only three occurrences where the word refers to an instrument or an implement of some sort (Jer. 43:10 [50:10 LXX]; 51:12 [28:12 LXX]; Prov. 14:7).

Because ὅπλα can refer to weaponry/armour and instruments, it makes the reference in Romans 6:13 difficult: ‘And do not go on presenting the members of your body to sin as2 instruments (ὅπλα) of unrighteousness; but present yourselves to God as those alive from the dead, and your members as instruments (ὅπλα) of righteousness to God.’ Douglas Moo argues that the Pauline usage here could be rendered in both occasions in this verse as ‘weapons of unrighteousness’ and ‘weapons of righteousness’.[10] Moo further suggests that when ‘unrighteousness’ is taken as an objective genitive, it can be rendered as ‘weapons for the purpose of unrighteousness’.[11] The discussion is somewhat moot for our ultimate purpose because regardless of whether a weapon or tool is in view, it is related to the metaphor between ‘members’ of our body. These ‘members’ are not physical parts and limbs but our ‘natural capacities’ in the flesh.[12] The idea in this passage deals with the virtues of the Christian in light of the freedom from sin we have through Christ.

Even if it is not possible to be conclusive with regard to Romans 6:13, there is a clear reference to spiritual weaponry in Romans 13:12: ‘Therefore let us lay aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armour of light (ὅπλα τοῦ φωτός).’ Here, the Christian’s battle with evil is seen in terms of putting on (ἐνδυσώµεθα) the deeds or virtues that accord with light; these are valuable as a weapon or as armour. Interestingly, a connection similar to that of Ephesians 6 is made between ‘walking’ (or acting virtuously) in verse 13 and the injunction to ‘put on (ἐνδύσασθε) the Lord Jesus Christ’ in verse 14. Moo makes a similar observation with regard to Ephesians 4, stating: ‘Our relationship to Christ, the new man, while established at conversion, needs constantly to be reappropriated and lived out.’[13] The ‘armour’ in Romans 13 clearly refers to virtues and actions that reflect Christ and what he has done.

The Second Epistle to the Corinthians also indicates that spiritual weapons consist of virtues, not imputation or forensic declarations. In 2 Corinthians 10:4, Paul wrote: ‘For the weapons (ὅπλα) of our warfare are not of the flesh, but divinely powerful for the destruction of fortresses.’ The exact nature of these weapons is not clear from the immediate context of the pericope. They are qualified though, as being ‘not fleshly’. Colin Kruse suggests that these weapons are related to the preaching of the gospel, which passages such as Romans 1:16 indicate releases the ‘power of God’.[14] However there are indications within the Epistle that would serve as a better indicator of what these weapons refer to. In 2 Corinthians 6:7b there is a use of weapon (NASB, NIV and ESV) or armour (AV) imagery when Paul writes, ‘by the weapons of righteousness (ὅπλων τῆς δικαιοσύνης) for the right hand and the left’. This metaphor of a weapon of righteousness follows a string of virtues that describe Paul’s ministry as a servant of God (2 Cor. 6:4). The virtues of Paul’s ministry are evidence of how he and his ministry partners ‘commend’ themselves to the Corinthians. Here, the virtues of holding the weapon of righteousness in both hands is set in juxtaposition to enduring afflictions and hardships, being in labours, fastings and sleepless nights.[15] It is important to note that in 6:7a Paul qualifies these as being done ‘in the power of God’.

As we narrow our way toward Ephesians 6:14, the next relevant passage occurs in 1 Thessalonians. This Epistle contains language regarding spiritual armour (the breastplate of righteousness) that closely parallels that of Ephesians. In 1 Thessalonians 5:8 Paul writes ‘having put on the breastplate of faith and love’ (ἐνδυσάµενοι θώρακα πίστεως καὶ ἀγάπης). Here, the breastplate clearly relates to the internal character and virtues of a Christian.[16] While the general nature of the breastplate in 1 Thessalonians 5:8 refers to internal Christian virtues, it also evidences the fact that the breastplate itself may have flexibility as a metaphor. This is because the armour metaphor in 1 Thessalonians 5:8 uses the breastplate to incorporate faith (πίστεως), whereas the armour metaphor in Ephesians 6:16 uses the shield to incorporate faith (θυρεὸν τῆς πίστεως). While a shield and breastplate no doubt have similar defensive functions, the fact that Paul is willing to attribute different characteristics to the breastplate is evidence that the context of each usage should be given primary consideration for understanding the specific part of the metaphor.[17]

There is also a similarity between the way the helmet functions in both Ephesians 6 and 1 Thessalonians 5. The helmet is described as the ‘hope of salvation’ in 1 Thessalonians 5:8 and as the ‘helmet of salvation’ in Ephesians 6:17.

A comparison of Paul’s usage of spiritual armour and weaponry imagery in his Epistles yield several pertinent facts for the study of Ephesians. First, Paul is willing to be flexible in his use of the specific pieces of armour. But the divergence within this flexibility is not extreme; an internal virtue of righteousness is not totally unrelated to faith and love, for love is the fulfilment of the Law. Secondly, while Paul is willing to give some flexibility to the individual parts of armour, the metaphor has a great deal of consistency to it. In Romans, 2 Corinthians, and 1 Thessalonians, spiritual weapons and armour consist of virtues and there is no indication that Christ’s imputed righteousness is directly described in this manner. Thus, the case for imputation in Ephesians 6 would consequently assert that Paul has radically changed the way he uses this metaphor. In other words, the armour of God appears to be a rigid metaphor while the individual pieces appear to have a small degree of flexibility.

4. Righteousness In Ephesians

The relationship of the armour imagery in the pericope of Ephesians 6:10-20 with other themes within the Epistle has not been settled. Moritz summarises the debate as being between the position that Ephesians 6:10-20 either to chapters 4-6, or that it relates to the entire Epistle.[18] Moritz demonstrates his support for a relationship to the entire Epistle by charting the themes that occur (i.e. the powers, truth, peace, faith, devil, salvation, etc.) throughout the Epistle and their reiteration in chapter 6.[19] In this view, the ‘righteousness’ described in chapter 6 functions within the whole Epistle and is connected to the other occasions for the theme in chapters 4 and 5.

In Ephesians 4:24, the concept of ‘righteousness’ is placed in the injunction to: ‘Put on the new self, which in the likeness of God has been created in righteousness (δικαιοσύνη) and holiness of the truth.’ This passage support Moritz’s theory of relating Ephesians 6:10-20 to the rest of the Epistle because there is a repetition of the command to ‘put on’. Just as the armour of God is to be ‘put on’ (ἐνδύσασθε) in Ephesians 6:11, in chapter 4 the ‘new self’ is to be ‘put on’ (ἐνδύσασθαι). Likewise, in Ephesians 5:9, Paul’s description of the works of a Christian is: ‘For the fruit of the Light consists in all goodness and righteousness (δικαιοσύνη) and truth.’ The fruit of righteousness is a reflection of the Christian’s ‘walk’ (5:8), and in juxtaposition to the ‘unfruitful works’ (5:11) that used to characterise the Ephesian Christians before their conversion.

While Moritz supports the notion that the ‘breastplate of righteousness’ refers to an imputation of Christ’s righteousness, his work to establish the relationship of chapter 6 to the rest of the Epistle supports the position that it refers to a virtuous Christian ‘walk’ that reflects Christ.

5. The Isaianic Background

The direct source of the breastplate metaphor is undoubtedly Isaianic.[20] Paul’s phraseology both in Ephesians 6:14 (ἐνδυσάµενοι τὸν θώρακα τῆς δικαιοσύνης) and the LXX of Isaiah 59:17 (ἐνεδύσατο δικαιοσύνην ὡς θώρακα) is strikingly similar. Furthermore, the concept of the Divine Warrior has an extensive background in Israel’s understanding of who YHWH is.[21]

The first use of the armour of God or the Divine Warrior imagery in Isaiah occurs in chapter 11. This is significant because Paul also references this in Ephesians 6:14a for the ‘belt of truth’. In 11:3 Isaiah creates a strong negative comparison by stating what YHWH is not: ‘And he will not judge by what His eyes see, Nor make a decision by what His ears hear.’ The Divine Warrior, however, has virtues and actions that are contrasted to this: ‘But with righteousness (בצדק) He will judge the poor’ (11:4); and: ‘Also righteousness (צדק) will be theקדץ belt about His loins, And faithfulness the belt around His waist’ (11:5). The righteousness and justice of God in Isaiah 11 functions within the theme of ‘righteous governance’; it describes the nature of the rule that YHWH will have over Israel and the Nations.[22]

The only other explicit reference to the armour of God or the Divine Warrior imagery in Isaiah occurs in chapter 59. The metaphor of the divine armour in Isaiah 59:17 is oriented around YHWH, who is posited as a Divine Warrior. Here, the attributes of the ‘man’ who is able to ‘intercede’ in 59:16 is set in contrast to the attributes of the Israelites. The covenant charges against Israel include: ‘For your hands are defiled with blood’ (Isa. 59:3); ‘No one pleads honestly’ (59:4); and ‘Their feet run to evil’ (Isa. 59:7). When YHWH’s people transgress the Covenant, they become, in a sense, his enemies. Thus, Neufeld is correct to say that YHWH is fighting against Israel: ‘Yahweh himself took up the task to see to it that abuse was avenged and victims vindicated.’[23] This is confirmed by Isaiah’s own interpretation of the Divine Warrior’s actions, ‘According to their deeds, so will he repay’ (Isa. 59:18). The ‘man’ who brings justice is one who, in 59:17, ‘put on righteousness like a breastplate, And a helmet of salvation on His head; And He put on garments of vengeance for clothing And wrapped Himself with zeal as a mantle.’ The armour metaphor as a whole refers to YHWH’s attributes as opposed to Israel’s moral corruption. The armour of YHWH functions in a way that both stands in contrast to Israel’s character and demonstrates the justice that will cause the people to fear the name of the Lord (Isa. 59:19).

This Isaianic background to Ephesians 6 raises the issue of rigidity of metaphor because of the way Paul references different passages so closely in 6:14a and 6:14b. The reference from Isaiah 11:5 is translated in the NASB as, ‘Also righteousness will be the belt about His loins, And faithfulness the belt about His waist.’ That Paul would use Isaiah 11:5 for the belt of truth in Ephesians 6:14a, and Isaiah 59:17 for the breastplate of righteousness for Ephesians 6:14b is indeed perplexing in light of the fact that ‘righteousness’ (δικαιοσύνη in the LXX and צדק in the MT) as a ‘girdle’ is already connected to the ‘belt’.

Calvin is quoted as complaining that, ‘Nothing can be more idle than the extraordinary pains which some have taken to discover the reason why righteousness is made a breastplate instead of a girdle.’[24] However, this appearance of superfluousness in Paul’s quotation choices is most likely a reflection of his recognition that the parts of the armour metaphor have a degree of flexibility to them. Indeed, it is likely that this itself is a reflection of the flexibility that Isaiah incorporated in the metaphor. This is evidenced by the fact that the breastplate of righteousness in Isaiah 59:17 uses צדקה which is similar to the girdle or belt of righteousness צדק in Isaiah 11:5.

This is significant for Paul’s metaphor and for a specific understanding of the breastplate of righteousness. Moritz argues that Isaiah 59 supports a forensic understanding of righteousness.[25] However, he mistakenly interprets Isaiah 59:20 as ‘presupposed repentance’ for all people and that God’s enemies are identified as some other people than Israel in 59:18.[26] In neither Isaiah 11 or 59 is the armour of God or the Divine Warrior acting in a way that imputes righteousness. Both passages present YHWH as a God whose characteristics are set in contrast to his people. This forces YHWH to act against them by bringing righteousness where there is none to be found.

6. The Integrity Of The Metaphor

Those who hold that the breastplate consists of the imputation of Christ’s righteousness create a problem for the integrity of Paul’s ‘armour of God’ metaphor. While Paul is asserting that the ‘armour of God’ is a unity (πανοπλίαν τοῦ θεοῦ) in Ephesians 6:11 and 6:13, there is also an emphatic use of the individual parts. The specific problem for understanding the relationship between the whole and the parts in terms of imputation for the breastplate is that of referentialism.

In order for the ‘armour of God’ metaphor to retain any meaning whatsoever, it must reference a single reality. A problem arises when the parts that constitute the armour function in essentially different ways. For example, it is generally recognized that imputed righteousness and righteousness as a virtue are two essentially different things. Paul cannot be exhorting the Christians to ‘put on’ the imputation of Christ’s righteousness and at the same time exhorting them to have a virtuous ‘shield of faith’. If it is possible to have more than one sense, an infinite number of meanings can be connected to it, thereby depriving it of any meaning at all. Thus, if the whole ‘armour of God’ is referencing both imputation and virtue, it loses all meaning as a metaphor. One could never be sure what is being understood by the ‘armour of God’ – for it could refer to any number of things, including imputation or virtue. Practically speaking, the Christian could never really be sure how to obey Paul’s injunction.

At this point it is helpful to consider Gregory Dawes’ analysis of metaphor.[27] According to Dawes, a metaphor is a combination of a non-literal ‘focus’ inside a contextual ‘frame’. Dawes uses this understanding of focus and frame to demonstrate that a metaphor is a ‘result of the interaction of words’ within a context.[28] Stated differently, a metaphor is composed of two part which cannot be pulled apart. There is a single frame within this pericope which is connected to a single referent. An assertion for either imputation or virtue must maintain a consistency of view throughout the foci of the pericope (like a hub and spokes).[29] This is because the metaphor does not rest upon a single word; rather it rests upon an interplay of words.[30] When the parts of the armour are separated from the whole, the frame becomes attached to more than one referent and thus loses the ability to communicate both authorial intention and a single determinate meaning.

Because it is unlikely that the ‘shield of faith’ in verse 16 refers to imputation of faith, or that the ‘sword of the Spirit’ in verse 17 is the imputation of the Word of God, it is unlikely that the breastplate of righteousness is referring to imputation.[31] To mix external imputation with internal virtue within a metaphor that is already moving between the poles of unity and parts would serve to either confuse or destroy the metaphor itself. Paul is exhorting his audience to a single action. If one asserts that imputation of righteousness is adjacent to the virtue of faith within the metaphor, the whole is rendered nonsensical because Paul’s exhortation (frame) is attributed more than one sense.

Furthermore, if Paul is moving between imputation and internal virtues within the whole armour metaphor, we are faced with another problem. This position is exemplified by Barrett who states, ‘Personal righteousness would give little or no defense against the accusations of Satan or even our own conscience.’[32] If we grant that the shield of faith, for example, does not consist of imputed faith, then it would be just as worthless as personal righteousness in our attempt to ‘stand’. The view that the breastplate is imputed righteousness appears to provide assurance that ‘Nothing can penetrate the sure defense of justification’; however, for those pieces of armour that consist of human action and virtue, it leaves the Christian with little defence.[33] This view is obviously problematic because in the process of upholding the strength of the breastplate by imputation, the rest of the pieces, which rely upon human response and virtue, are made to be very weak. This certainly is far from Paul’s intent as he stresses the need for strong armour in light of the spiritual battles that the Christian faces (Eph. 6:12).

Maintaining a view of hierarchy within the parts is equally problematical if applied to the imputed righteousness position. It would be difficult from a theological point of view to maintain the Lutheran maxim that ‘justification is the article by which the church stands or falls’ if Paul only saw it as second to last in priority. Even if it were granted that justification as a doctrine of ecclesiological unity is not the issue in this passage, justification would still play a relatively small role in spiritual battles when compared to the sword of the spirit or the helmet of salvation. Either way, if one maintains the external position of the breastplate as well as a hierarchical view of the armour, justification would not seem to play a strong role in spiritual battles. It is more likely that the passage reflects a loose hierarchy that corresponds primarily to reality and not to a hierarchy of spiritual values. An even better position than the hierarchy position would posit each part as spokes which are all attached to the whole.

7. Context As Hermeneutical Key

How exactly Paul wanted the breastplate of righteousness to be understood should be determined in light of how the entire armour functions. In the case of this pericope of Ephesians 6:10-20, the context provides the hermeneutical key that defines the armour of God and correspondingly, the nature of the breastplate of righteousness. Because it is the metaphor which is debated, it is all the more critical to consider those passages that are explanatory.

The armour passage is demarcated as beginning in Ephesians 6:10 with the transition τοῦ λοιποῦ (finally). Immediately, this pericope presents exegetical difficulties.[34] The exhortation to ‘be strong (ἐνδυναµοῦσθε) in the Lord’ from verse 10 can be taken either as a passive or as a middle.[35] P. T. O’Brien rightly asserts that this is a passive, based upon the fact that believers are to be strengthened in the power that comes from God.[36] This exhortation is a present tense imperative, and as opposed to a Christian who is in the state of justification, this is an imperfective aspect. Syntactically, O’Brien demonstrates that verse 11 provides the explanation of how ‘Be strong in the Lord’ is to be carried out: the Christian is to ‘put on (ἐνδύσασθε) the full armour of God’.

The hermeneutical key to the parts of the armour rests upon the parallel concepts of ‘be strong in the Lord’ and ‘put on the full armour of God’ as Paul equates them both as enabling the Christian ‘to stand’ in verses 11 and 13. Arnold, Neufeld and O’Brien all note that the conceptual parallelism is supported by Paul’s use of two synonymous verbs for ‘put on’; using ἐνδυναµοῦσθε in verse 10 and ἐνδύσασθε in verse 11.[37] Understanding this parallel helps to locate Paul’s whole metaphor within his ethical exhortations. Paul is exhorting the Ephesians to ‘stand’. This is a call to action and to pursue Christian virtues that reflect Christ; forensic declarations are not in view.

8. Conclusion

As we have seen, any theological concerns regarding the ‘breastplate of righteousness’ should be alleviated by the recognition that the righteousness that Paul desires in Ephesians 6:14 is not a product of the Christian’s own strength and might – on the contrary, an ethical view of the breastplate is expressly God-centred. The exhortation to ‘put on’ righteousness is to be grounded in the strength of the Lord. In this view, the Christian is involved in spiritual battles in a real, substantial way that is akin to wrestling (v. 12) and standing (v. 14). Justification by imputed righteousness does indeed have a role in spiritual warfare, but such concerns should not drive exegesis for this particular verse.

Theologically, Paul’s exhortation is similar to the exhortation of James 4:7b: ‘Resist the devil and he will flee from you.’[38] In sum, the breastplate of righteousness must be interpreted in light of textual and contextual evidences. A consideration of Paul’s appropriation of weaponry imagery from Isaiah, and the contextual clues from both the whole Epistle and the pericope of Ephesians 6:10-20, affirm the view that the ‘breastplate of righteousness’ is indeed an ethical breastplate of holiness and virtue that is rooted in the strength of the Lord.

Notes

1. All Scripture quotations are from the updated NASB unless noted otherwise.
2. In 1643 Paul Bayne noted three extant positions, (1) a righteousness imputed by faith, (2) a righteousness ‘inherent in us, which is part of the divine quality begun in us’ and (3) a ‘righteousness of course, or conversation, or worke’. Paul Bayne, An Entire Commentary upon the Whole Epistle of the Apostle Paul to the Ephesians (London: M. F. Publishers, 1643): 780.
3. For this distinction see Kevin J. Vanhoozer, Is There a Meaning in This Text? (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1993): 284.
4. Those who view the breastplate as being external or imputed righteousness include Michael Barrett, Complete in Him (Greenville, SC: Ambassador-Emerald, 2000): 223; Matthew Henry, Matthew Henry’s Commentary on the Whole Bible: Acts to Revelation (New York: Fleming H. Revell, n.d.): 720; Thorsten Moritz, A Profound Mystery: The Use of the Old Testament in Ephesians (New York: E. J. Brill, 1996): 203; James Rosscup, ‘Ephesians: Prayer’s Strategic Role’ in The Master’s Perspective on Difficult Passages (ed. Robert Thomas; Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel, 1998): 229.
5. Those who view the breastplate as being virtue or an ethical quality include William Barclay, The Letters to the Galatians and Ephesians (Louisville, KY: WJK, 1976): 211; N. T. Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God (vol. 3; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003): 238; John Calvin, Commentaries on the Epistles of Paul to the Galatians and Ephesians (Edinburgh: Calvin Translation Society, 1854): 338; Kylne Snodgrass, Ephesians (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996): 342; John MacArthur, The Believer’s Armor (Chicago: Moody, 1986): 88; William Lincoln, Lectures on the Epistle to the Ephesians (London: John Ritchie, n.d.): 80; Henry Alford, The Greek New Testament: With a Critically Revised Text (Boston: Lee and Shephard, 1881): 146; Harold Hoehner, Ephesians: An Exegetical Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2002): 841; Francis Foulkes, The Epistle of Paul to the Ephesians (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1956): 174.
6. See Vanhoozer’s general discussion of double meaning and ambiguity. Vanhoozer, Is There a Meaning in This Text?, 256.
7. Moritz agrees, stating, ‘The author spared no effort to employ terms already familiar to the readers from Israel’s Scriptures.’ Mortiz, A Profound Mystery, 182.
8. This ‘authority’ is similar to the authority accompanying normative texts. As Francis Watson notes, the reading community that ‘acknowledges certain texts as normative… also concerns itself with the implications of that normativity.’ Francis Watson, Paul and the Hermeneutics of Faith (London: T&T Clark, 2004): 78.
9. Both the ESV and NAS translate ὅπλα in 2 Chr. 21:3 as ‘possessions’ and ‘precious things’, respectively. However, the statement that this was ‘together with fortified cities in Judah’ may indicate the gifts contained weapons for the purpose of defending these cities.
10. Douglas Moo, The Epistle to the Romans (NICNT; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1996): 384 n.167.
11. This is in contrast to the genitive of quality which would be rendered as ‘unrighteous weapons’. Moo, The Epistle to the Romans, 385 n.170. Wallace holds that this is a genitive of description. Daniel Wallace, Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996): 80.
12. Moo, The Epistle to the Romans, 384.
13. Moo, The Epistle to the Romans, 825.
14. Colin Kruse, 2 Corinthians (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1987): 174.
15. Paul Barnett also finds the immediate context to be a compelling reason for understanding the ‘weapon of righteousness’ as ‘ethical’. Paul Barnett, The Second Epistle to the Corinthians (NICNT; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1997): 330.
16. ‘[B]y faith we are able to realise the Divine will and the Divine power and by love to embody faith in our dealings with men: this is righteousness.’ George Milligan, St. Paul’s Epistles to the Thessalonians (Perthshire, UK, 1908): 68.
17. ‘Whether it is worth while to expend extended ingenuity on the exact details of the analogy may be doubted.’ George Buttrick, The Interpreters Bible (vol. X; New York: Abingdon, 1953): 739.
18. Mortiz, A Profound Mystery, 181.
19. Mortiz, A Profound Mystery, 182.
20. Ellis notes fourteen OT references in Ephesians and seven of those refer to Isaiah, three occurring in the armour of God metaphor in ch. six. E. Earle Ellis, Paul’s Use of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1957): 154.
21. Neufeld provides an extensive footnote referencing sources on the Divine Warrior imagery. T. R. Yoder Neufeld, ‘Put on the Armour of God’: The Divine Warrior from Isaiah to Ephesians (JSNTSup 140: Sheffield: Academic Press, 1997), 23.
22. Christopher R. Seitz, Isaiah 1-39 (Louisville: JohnKnox, 1993): 107.
23. Neufeld, Put on the Armour of God, 27.
24. Emphasis his. John Calvin as quoted by R. W. Dale in G. A. Buttrick, The Interpreters Bible: vol. X, 739.
25. Moritz, A Profound Mystery, 203.
26. Mortiz, A Profound Mystery, 203.
27. Dawes partially appropriates Max Black’s metaphor theory regarding focus and frame. Gregory Dawes, The Body in Question: Metaphor and Meaning in the Interpretation of Ephesians 5:21-23 (Boston: Brill, 1998): 29.
28. Dawes, The Body in Question, 29.
29. Calvin bases his interpretation of the breastplate as internal virtue upon its continuity with other pieces that involve virtue. Calvin, Commentaries on the Epistles of Paul to the Galatians and Ephesians, 338.
30. Dawes, The Body in Question, 29.
31. This is also congruous with how Paul uses the armour as a whole and the breastplate as a piece in 1 Thess. 5.
32. Michael Barrett, Complete in Him (Greenville, SC: Ambassador-Emerald, 2000): 223.
33. Barrett, Complete in Him, 223.
34. Porter cites Eph. 6:10-17 as being an example of ‘special significance’ with ‘exegetical difficulties’. Stanley Porter, Idioms of the Greek New Testament (Sheffield, UK: Sheffield Academic, 1999): 227.
35. P. T. O’Brien, The Letter to the Ephesians (PNTC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1999): 460.
36. O’Brien, The Letter to the Ephesians, 462
37. O’Brien, The Letter to the Ephesians, 462 n. 88.
38. Hoehner, Ephesians: An Exegetical Commentary, 841.

A Palatable Calvinism: Limited Atonement In The Theology Of John Piper

By David H. Wenkel, M.A.

[Bible teacher, Winnetka Bible Church]

Regardless of whether one thinks favorably or unfavorably about him, the ministry of John Piper has silenced those who accuse five point Calvinists of destroying the impetus for missions and evangelism.[1] How has this been accomplished? The success and widespread acclamation of Piper’s books and other resources is impressive in light of his theological stance, especially that of limited atonement. The doctrine of limited atonement, elsewhere called particular redemption or definite atonement does have difficulties and has historically been the source of great debate. One’s position on the doctrine of the atonement has many logical and theological implications: some theoretical, some practical. How one understands Christ’s cross manifests a crucial role in theological issues such as the Gospel call and assurance. This article suggests that Piper’s Calvinism, specifically his doctrine of limited atonement, has taken on certain modifications that enable his theology to be widely accepted without great controversy.[2]

Piper’s Official Position

John Piper’s website is clear that he adheres to the five points of Calvinism (TULIP). On this website, he specifically addressed the matter of limited atonement and briefly defended his position. The explanation of limited atonement includes two important points. First, Piper and the Bethlehem Baptist Church Staff asserted, “in the cross God had in view the actual redemption of his children. And we affirm that when Christ died for these, he did not just create the opportunity for them to save themselves, but really purchased for them all that was necessary to get them saved, including the grace of regeneration and the gift of faith.”[3] This is important to note because it connects God’s intentions in the cross particularly with the elect, propitiation is solely for the redeemed and none else.

Secondly, Piper and Bethlehem Baptist created a second or dualistic intention in the cross: “We do not deny that all men are the intended beneficiaries of the cross in some sense.”[4] He continued citing biblical evidence for this position.

1 Timothy 4:10 says that Christ is “the Savior of all men, especially of those who believe.” What we deny is that all men are intended as the beneficiaries of the death of Christ in the same way. All of God's mercy toward unbelievers— from the rising sun (Matthew 5:45) to the worldwide preaching of the gospel (John 3:16)—is made possible because of the cross.[5]

This is crucial because it introduces the issue of duality in his doctrine of atonement. Therefore, Piper can tell all people that Christ died for them—he simply does not know how or to what extent. Though this dualist intention is present, he clearly stated that “Christ died for all the sins of some men.”[6]

Amyraldianism

How does this perspective correspond with traditional Reformed theology? This is an important question as Reformed theology has been by no means uniform. Since at least the seventeenth century, Reformed theology has responded of necessity to strands of theology within its ranks that have been found aberrant by those adhering to a more stringent system of limited atonement. An example of this is the debate which continues today over John Calvin’s own view of the extent of the atonement. Calvin’s own views aside, there were definitely theologians within the Reformed churches who held to a Calvinistic system that differed from both Arminianism and the more stringent forms connected with a strong view of limited atonement. The name of this more mediate Calvinistic system is often termed Amyraldism, or Amyraldianism, after Moises Amyraut.

It is important to note that this was actually a much wider movement than one man.[7] The view of the atonement held by Amyraut was taught at the theological school of Saumur, France. Amyraut modified certain doctrines regarding Christ’s work in what is understood to be the traditional Calvinist position.[8] Roger Nicole, provided a helpful synopsis of Moises Amyraut’s theology.

In his [Amyraut’s] Traité de la Prédestination (1634) he claimed that God, moved by his love for mankind, had appointed all human beings to salvation provided they repent and believe. He sent his Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, to die for the sins of all mankind in order to implement this purpose.. .. Grace thus is seen as universal in the provision for salvation but as particular in the application of it.[9]

The teaching of Moises Amyraut, his teacher John Cameron, and others at the French academy of Saumur made an impact on the acceptability and apologetics of the Calvinist Gospel call. This was done with the confidence that their position on the extent of the atonement was commensurate with both the Synod of Dort (1618) and the teachings of John Calvin.[10] Martin Klauber explained how this teaching made Calvinism more palatable.

One of the main Roman Catholic objections against reformed theology was that Calvinism minimized the love and justice of God in favor of God’s decrees. The concepts of mediate imputation of Adam’s sin and hypothetical universalism upheld the reformed doctrines of the depravity of man and divine election while emphasizing that God offered each individual the fair opportunity to come to a saving knowledge of Christ.[11]

The traditional view of limited atonement takes care to avoid giving unbelievers the notion that Christ’s death was specifically for them before they believe. This avoids presumptuous speculation on the extent of Christ’s work on the cross. The Gospel is simply to believe and repent rather than introducing common formulas such as “Christ died for you.”[12]

Given this background, it is pertinent to consider the issue of Piper’s soteriology and its relationship to Amyraldianism and limited atonement. While the specific matters of the Gospel call and assurance are addressed specifically, the thrust of the case for considering Piper’s soteriology as Amyraldianism rests on how these areas relate to the core idea of God’s will. It is being asserted here that a reasonable case can be made that Piper’s position on the atonement differs from the traditional Reformed doctrine of limited atonement.

Piper did seek to extricate himself from the appearance of Amyraldianism. In their broad case against Calvinism, Walls and Dongell argued that a dualistic approach wherein “Christ died for the elect in a different sense than he died for the non-elect” goes against the “substance” of the traditional limited atonement view.[13] For this reason, supporters of the traditional view of limited atonement such as B. B. Warfield have labeled these tendencies in generations past as “inconsistent particularism.”[14] The official statement regarding limited atonement on Piper’s website explicitly denies Amyraldianism in concept, though not by name.

If you say that he died for every human being in the same way, then you have to define the nature of the atonement very differently than you would if you believed that Christ only died for those who actually believe. In the first case you would believe that the death of Christ did not actually save anybody; it only made all men savable. It did not actually remove God's punitive wrath from anyone, but instead created a place where people could come and find mercy—IF they could accomplish their own new birth and bring themselves to faith without the irresistible grace of God.[15]

Two key tenets are denied by such a statement. First, it is denied that the death of Christ made all men savable. Secondly, that the atonement created a hypothetical situation wherein all people can be saved on the condition of faith.

Piper also posited a further attempt to strengthen his position on limited atonement by stating, “The death of Christ actually saves from ALL evil those for whom Christ died ‘especially.’”[16]

It is fairly certain that Piper would decry the label of Amyraldian due to his assertion that the atonement is “definite.”[17] He may even believe that his position on the atonement is commensurable with a traditional view of limited atonement. However, Piper’s discussions on the death of Christ suggest that he does not follow this traditional view. In spite of this, many of his works exhibit certain tendencies which evidence a hypothetical universalism which is the theological heart of Amyraldianism. The case for re-labeling Piper’s soteriology needs to be grounded on his perspective of God’s will. His official explanation of TULIP as set forth on his webpage entitled “Are There Two Wills in God?: Divine Election and God’s Desire for All to Be Saved” introduced a dualistic approach to God’s will. The introductory statement of this essay states:

My aim in this chapter is to show from Scripture that the simultaneous existence of God’s will for “all persons to be saved” (1 Tim. 2:4) and his will to elect unconditionally those who will actually be saved is not a sign of divine schizophrenia or exegetical confusion. A corresponding aim is to show that unconditional election therefore does not contradict biblical expressions of God's compassion for all people, and does not nullify sincere offers of salvation to everyone who is lost among all the peoples of the world.[18]

Throughout this essay he argued from the Bible that it is wrong to think that one can be reductionistic about the complex will and thoughts of God. This is grounded in his theology of Christian hedonism which is theocentric. While God has a real and genuine desire for all to be saved he is “committed to something even more valuable than saving all,” that is, the “full range of God’s glory.”[19] This explains why God has what can be rightly considered to have a dualistic or multi-intention approach to salvation. According to Piper, God desires all to be saved and desires that only the elect should be saved. This he argued, is a well repeated biblical pattern.

This analysis of Piper’s soteriology seeks to trace how this dualism has effected his doctrine of limited atonement and several of its corollary doctrines.

Historically speaking, it seems that he has indeed moved away from the traditional view of limited atonement. A. A. Hodge, for example, averred that a position of “two wills or purposes in God in respect to man’s salvation” is a system identical to the position of Amyraut, Cameron, and the theological school of Saumur.[20] Perhaps this is a signal that the features of modern day Calvinism is changing. By examining the Gospel call and assurance it will be determined whether Piper can maintain his propositions against Amyraldianism.

The Gospel Call

What exactly is the good news of the Gospel? Certainly both limited atonement proponents and others would point to Christ, but the issue requires more specificity. Certain questions get to the heart of this matter regarding the nature of the Gospel call. For example, how is an unbeliever to know that God loves him? Should unbelievers be told that Christ loves them if this love was shown primarily in the atonement, which is limited in scope? Does the Gospel call consist of a universal statement of God’s love, calling sinners to faith and repentance? How this call is framed and of what it consists are important questions because one’s view of the atonement plays a large role in the answers given.

Integral to Piper’s “Christian Hedonism” is pointing to God as the source of joy. That God is the source of everlasting joy is central to the Gospel call.[21] Believers are to evangelize by “showing a dying soul the life-giving beauty of the glory of God, especially his grace.”[22] The nature of Christ’s limited atonement does little to hinder Piper from pointing all people to the availability of this life-giving beauty and attracting glory. This is, in a manner of speaking, already a hypothetically universal atonement, for all people must suppose that God’s glory in the cross can be their source of joy. Piper illustrated: “This is how the Gospel is defined. When we are converted through faith in Christ, what we see with the eyes of our hearts is ‘the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God’ (2 Corinthians 4:4).”[23] In another place he summarized the Gospel call as follows: “This ‘calling’ is the merciful act of God to remove natural deadness and satanic blindness, so that we see Christ as true and good.”[24]

The Gospel call of Piper gives great emphasis on the cross as displaying God’s glory, but does it also display his love in a universal fashion? Piper’s use of John 3:16 brings a complexity to the answer. On the one hand, Piper brings both believers and non-believers into a personal appropriation of Christ’s work through his use of key pronouns. He asked, “How shall God love us?”[25] However, Piper moved quickly to the issue of “eternal life” which is to “know God and his Son, Jesus Christ,” who is the only one who can satisfy one’s soul because of His “excellence” or glory.[26] It is not clear that Piper’s quick move to glory did justice to John’s emphasis on God’s love.

In Piper’s writing it is hard to distinguish between God’s love and God’s glory; and this is purposefully so.[27] The love of God is considered penultimate and God’s glory ultimate.[28] He stated, “In fact, that is what divine love is in the end: a passion to enthrall undeserving sinners, at great cost, with that will make us supremely happy forever, namely, his infinite beauty.”[29] In his book The Passion of Jesus Christ, it is hard to understand how this glory calls a sinner individually with an assurance that is personally available. What is important to note is that God’s love is not demonstrated in being a substitutionary sacrifice, rather it is in the infinite measure of glory. The “degree” is emphasized rather than the legal nature of propitiation. In his review of The Pleasures of God, Bruce Ware’s understanding of the Gospel call of Piper is similar.

If God is not satisfied in being God, there is no reason we should think our satisfaction will be found in him. But, happily, God’s call to come to him to find what truly satisfies (e.g. Isa 55:1–3; Jer 2:11–13; Matt 11:28–30; Rev 22:17) is predicated on his own knowledge and experience of possessing the only true delight there is, in none other than in himself.[30]

Ware’s assessment highlighted the fact that the biblical basis for a Gospel call of glory is not without biblical merit; the issue is whether Piper’s limited atonement prevents an equally biblical Gospel call of love that is demonstrated in a substitutionary sacrifice. For Piper, the Gospel call does focus on the cross and the love shown therein; but it is primarily a love that leads to the excellencies and glory of Christ which can satisfy and attract unbelievers.

When setting forth a Gospel call of love, the love flows not from propitiation or substitution but from the very fact that the Son of God was crucified. Piper asked, “What if. .. God really is the most admirable being in the universe? Would this not imply that God’s summons for our praise is the summons for our highest joy? And if the success of that summons cost Him the life of His Son, would that not be love (instead of arrogance)?”[31] Here, it is difficult to find room for a Gospel of love for the unsaved wherein they can know Christ died as a substitution. Though assurance is discussed in the next section, it is sufficient to note that the sinner can be assured that God loves him or her because of the objective fact that the command to find joy in the cross cost the Father the life of his Son. This conjoining of love and glory would not be so problematical if one could be certain that love toward the sinner as its own theme is not flattened by the theme of glory.

At the very point when one could suggest that the theme of glory in the cross totally overshadows the theme of love in the cross, Piper surprised the astute reader. It would seem a natural theological conclusion to stress the joy-filled, attractive glory of the cross rather than its message of salvific love, which is only as broad as the elect for the classical limited atonement position.[32] However, Piper seemed to disavow Warfield and the classical Calvinist tradition of limited atonement by presenting a “dualism” or a hypothetical universalism. On the same page wherein the extent of the atonement is limited to those who trust Christ, he made the following Gospel call: “But when, by grace, we waken to our unworthiness, then we may look at the suffering and death of Christ and say, ‘In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the [wrath-absorbing] propitiation for our sins’ (1 John 4:l0).”[33] Elsewhere he stated, “The measure of God’s love for us is shown. .. [in] the degree of his sacrifice in saving us from the penalty of our sin.”[34]

Clearly Piper did not completely believe that Christ was the propitiation for all people, which would be the absolute antithesis of the limited atonement position. What he seemed to be doing was moving the reader to appropriate Christ by hypothetically assuming that Christ’s death was for him or her. Piper does not know if this love connected with propitiation is objectively true, but at times he assumed it to be so, creating a Gospel call that is essentially Amyraldian in nature. A message of God’s love to all was crucial to Amyraut who stated, Christ “died to fulfill the decree of the Father, which proceeded from an equal love to all.”[35] Again, according to A. A. Hodge, this is a modification of the classical limited atonement view. Hodge averred that a “love of mankind in general, coexisting with a good pleasure to allow the majority of those so loved to perish, some without even the knowledge of the redemption provided at such cost, and others without any saving interest in it” is antithetical to the traditional view of limited atonement.[36]

The preface of Don’t Waste Your Life yields a key fact in this analysis: Piper wrote this particular book for an audience of both Christians and non-Christians.[37] While making clear statements regarding a limited atonement, Piper also brought the reader (both Christian and non-Christian) into a literary “us” which appropriates Christ as a hypothetically universal atonement. He wrote, “To bring us to this highest and most durable of all pleasures, God made his Son, Jesus Christ, a bloody spectacle of blameless suffering and death.”[38] Again, he brought the reader into an assumption that the extent of Christ’s death was specifically for the reader: “To bring us to this highest and most durable of all pleasures, God made his Son, Jesus Christ, a bloody spectacle of blameless suffering and death. This is what it cost to rescue us from a wasted life.”[39] Other references invited the reader to assume with John Piper not simply a participation (us) but an understanding and appropriation of the cross that is personal (my). In one of his short meditations it is clear that the reader should appropriate these statements: “Christ became my damning record of bad (and good) deeds. He endured my damnation.”[40]

There is then a tension that exists in the Gospel message of Piper. On the one hand, his Christian Hedonism focuses on the infinite glory and joy that God displayed in sending His Son to die on the cross. There is a universal love, but it is not clear that a sinner can know good news of God’s love that is rooted in a substitutionary sacrifice.

Assurance

One’s doctrine of the atonement has a significant impact upon the doctrine of assurance. On the unlimited atonement side of the debate, R. T. Kendall stated, “Had not Christ died for all, we could have no assurance that our sins have been expiated in God’s sight.”[41] Likewise, M. Charles Bell stated, “We have assurance in union with him [Christ] on the basis of his work of atonement.”[42] Those ascribing to limited atonement, such as J. I. Packer, state that assured faith is based solely upon “the sufficiency of Christ, and the promise of God.”[43] Assurance for the “limited atonement” position is thus ex post facto in connection with conversion because as Roger Nicole explained, “assurance, if it is to be reliable, needs to be grounded in something that actually makes a difference between the saved and the lost.”[44] Those on the “unlimited atonement” side view the Gospel as providing its own objective assurance of faith: Christ died for you, Christ loves you and this is assured by virtue of His blood shed for you. [45] The central issue in this section is whether assurance is viewed as the essence of saving faith or whether assurance comes after saving faith when one’s works may be considered.

In the classical limited atonement model, God’s salvific intention and will are oriented exclusively upon the elect. However, Piper drifted from this position in his essay “Are There Two Wills in God?” He clearly demonstrated that God often operates with more than one intention, making the case that the “simultaneous existence of God’s will for ‘all persons to be saved’ (1 Tim. 2:4) and his will to elect unconditionally those who will actually be saved is not a sign of divine schizophrenia or exegetical confusion.”[46] Nevertheless, how does the sinner know this “will for all to be saved” applies subjectively? Is the atonement part of this revelation and the ground of assurance? Randall Zachman asked this relevant question: Is assurance predicated “on the basis of what God has done for us once for all in Jesus Christ, revealed to us in the gospel through the Holy Spirit? Or do we know this on the basis of what God is doing in us through the sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit?”[47]

Understanding Piper’s doctrine of assurance means understanding his theology of “Christian Hedonism.” Central to his “Christian Hedonism” is the joy that is found in knowing Christ. He defined limited atonement as “the assurance that indestructible joy in God is infallibly secured for us by the blood of the covenant.”[48] Having an assurance of this joy is a decisive issue because while Christ’s person and work may be infinitely sufficient in the classical view of limited atonement, this is not primarily due to God’s intentions for the whole world. While most who adhere to limited atonement believe that the Gospel can be offered genuinely because of Christ’s infinite sufficiency, rarely is Christ viewed as being offered as a source of joy to all men. A believer’s joy is a knowledgeable faith that Christ has done something on the cross. Piper stated, “That very statement is the key to endurance and joy. ‘Christ Jesus has made me his own.’”[49] However, when is this knowledge that “I am his own” possible?

When addressing Christians, Piper freely pointed to the atonement as the objective ground of assurance: “And He is for us. The gospel is the good news that, because of Christ’s blood and righteousness, we are justified by faith alone, and God is for us forever.”[50] In a different book, he connected assured faith with joy, “I am saying that gladness in God is the goal of all saving work, and the experiential essence of what it means to be saved.”[51] He continued, rooting the subjective in the objective: “So when I speak of making someone glad in God. .. I include the all-sufficient redeeming work of Christ in death and resurrection (Romans 3:24–26).”[52] Here, joy is the essence of an assured faith which is confident in the cross for salvation. In Future Grace, he stated, “The hand that turns the key is faith, and the life that results in living by faith in future grace.. .. By faith I do not merely mean the confidence that Jesus died for your sins, but also the confidence that God will ‘also with him freely give us all things’ (Romans 8:32).”[53] These references speak of a joyful assurance in the objective (what God has done), but the imminent issue is not addressed because it is not clear whether this joy in redemption and propitiation is offered to the unbeliever as integral to the Gospel.

Piper specifically addressed assurance and the approximate question: How can I know that I am of the elect? Before addressing this matter, he stressed specifically his primary view that that Christ’s death is limited in extent. Regarding the cross, he asked:

“For whom? It says, ‘Christ loved the church and give himself up for her’ (Ephesians 5:25). ‘Greater love has no one than this, that someone lays down his life for his friends’ (John 15:13). ‘The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give himself a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:28).[54]

Piper’s question leads to the following: Am I among the “many”? In this case, it seems the logic of particular redemption side prevails. He did not assure the reader that the cross itself testifies to the sinner that he or she is among the “many.” Faith is not described as an act of “appropriation” or a grasping of infinite joy; rather, he stressed verses such as Acts 16:31, 10:43, Romans 10:13, John 1:12, and 3:16 to impress upon the reader the command to simply believe. In this case, one can assume that assurance is a more subjective matter as it seems that Piper was intending to hinge assurance on one’s belief or unbelief.[55] The self, or, what God is doing in individuals primarily testifies of God’s will.

Piper’s answer to that of Zachman’s question was that neither the objective nor the subjective exclude the other. The role of subjectivity was explained in his more detailed exposition of the doctrine of assurance: Taste and See. He began the work by disavowing that either God for us (the objective warrant) or God in us (the subjective warrant) dominates the other; he desired to hold both in tension. He viewed the objective warrant as “the finished work of Christ on the cross” and the subjective warrant as “our faith” which is composed of both “spiritual sight of glory (or beauty) in the Christ of the gospel” and “a warranted resting in this glorious gospel.”[56] Initially it appears as though even the subjective is composed of an outward look to Christ. However, the question of “ground” reappears. Both the spiritual sight of Christ and the resting are explained in identical terms: seeing and understanding that Christ is “glorious.”[57] In light of Christian Hedonism this means that faith is finding joy in the offer of the joy of the glorious cross. However, this is somewhat circular because one has not been assured that this substitutionary sacrifice is extended to all. The “joy” is either grounded on a hypothetical universalism or it is a commanded joy that is not grounded in a universal atonement. In other words, one can only have a certainty that Christ on the cross is pro nobis (i.e. for him) until he views Him in His glory and rests upon Him in faith. If one grants with Piper that Christ did not die for all, assurance of salvation is not grounded in a knowledge that Christ is in one’s place, but rather that Christ is simply glorious on the cross without any reference to the sinner.

Assurance in the theology of John Piper is closely related to his view of the atonement. The cross of Christ demonstrates the full glory of Christ which is divine love; it is what calls the sinner to ultimate joy and satisfaction. It is because this glory is infinite that it is sufficient for a universal Gospel call and a corresponding assurance; one could surely say that this glory is enough to satisfy. Nevertheless, herein lies a difference between Piper and Amyraldianism: the later emphasizes that assurance is the essence of faith that Christ was on the cross for all sinners, whereas the former emphasizes that assurance is based on the fact that Christ’s death is sufficient to meet God’s demand for joy in him.

That there is an objective and a subjective side to assurance which must be held together necessitates an objective grace and a subjective grace. The objective grace of the cross must communicate to the unconverted that Christ is for him or her; subjective grace from the Holy Spirit confirms this with faith. A. A. Hodge viewed the distinction between objective and subject grace as an Amyraldian doctrine that deviated from the Reformed tradition on limited atonement. He noted that Amyraut held that objective grace rendered salvation universally available to all men and that subjective grace was designed for the elect alone and graciously gave the ability to believe the Gospel.[58] Hodge averred that Christ was only offered as objectively as he was subjectively received. In other words, “the actual ends effected are the exact measure of the real ends designed.”[59] Piper did not exactly follow either model exactly by accepting the distinction between objective and subjective grace on the one hand, while on the other hand insisting at times that faith is required for one to know that God has a salvific stance toward a specific sinner.

The question of whether Piper is truly following in the legacy of John Calvin is a difficult question because the process of answering it requires an immersion in a whole litany of debates over historical theology (the scope of which is beyond this article). To summarize, contemporary theologians like Bell, Clifford, Daniel, Kendall, Thomas, (in addition to the Saumur schoolmen) and others believe that Calvin taught a universal atonement and a view of faith that had assurance as its very essence. Assuming this position, Piper differed from both Calvin and Luther, who maintained, “the conscience—whether of the infidel or the believer—cannot testify to itself as to God’s will toward us.”[60] Zachman explained that the “testimony of a good conscience has a legitimate place in both Luther’s and Calvin’s theology; yet such testimony does not tell us about the grace or favor of God toward us, but only about the sincerity of our response to that grace in faith and love.”[61]

By not allowing the objective warrant of the cross of Christ to supersede faith, one’s works are always a part of assurance in Piper’s theology. In other words, one can only have a certainty that Christ on the cross is pro nobis until he views Him in His glory and finds himself resting upon Christ in faith. If one will grant Piper that Christ did not die for all, one can only have assurance of salvation until enough works are produced to testify to one’s own conscience whether there is actual evidence of this faith. Therefore, saving faith is not, by Piper’s definition an assured faith because while it will always produce works instantaneously, these works may not be self evident to the believer instantaneously. This a posteriori syllogism is as follows: “Christ died for all who believe and repent; but I believe and repent; therefore, he died for me.”[62] This is similar to Francis Turrettin who stated, “even all those who hear the Gospel are not bound to believe directly and immediately, that Christ died for them, but mediately.”[63] Piper’s view, like Turrettin’s, arguably falls under the scrutiny of Kendall’s thesis wherein he argued that the Puritans followed a model that departed from Calvin and made assurance subjective via personal introspection of works.

Again, a tension exists within Piper’s soteriology. The cross offers infinite joy and satisfaction in God but the faith that appropriates this is not fully assured. This is in conjunction with some theological language that invites the sinner to find assurance in appropriating Christ and His work based upon the hypothesis that Christ was one’s substitute and redeemer on the cross.

Conclusion

There is an internal paradox within Piper’s view of limited atonement. On the one hand he affirmed, “there is no dispute that Christ died so that we may say to all persons everywhere without exception: God gave his only begotten Son to die for sin so that if you believe on him you may have eternal life.”[64] On the other hand, he denied that “God intended to make salvation possible for all persons.”[65] Consequently, must one tell the world that “Christ died for your sins” all the while knowing such was not God’s intention? Unfortunately, Piper’s theology of God’s will and the possibility of multiple intentions is not applied consistently to this problem. This paradox is often solved via a hypothetical universalism but not in a strong enough way to label him as fully Amyraldian. He cannot fully maintain his case against Amyraldianism, but nor should he be labeled as such without qualification.

Combining Christian Hedonism with limited atonement presents difficulties that destroy the congruity of Piper’s theology. Piper responded to the demand for joy in God as secondary by stating: “They say things like, ‘Don’t pursue joy; pursue obedience.’ But Christian Hedonism responds, ‘That’s like saying ‘Don’t eat apples; eat fruit.’ Because joy is an act of obedience. We are commanded to rejoice in God.”[66] For Piper, duty-faith is essentially equal to duty-joy; they are one and the same. However, what is referent for this duty-joy? It is joy in a limited atonement as classically understood? This is a difficult question. In some places this joy is not presented as immediately being connected with a propitiatory sacrifice because it cannot be immediately known as such. When limited atonement presents a significant challenge to the Gospel call and assurance, some aspects are modified in an Amyraldian-like manner in order to provide for appropriation of Christ as a propitiation. The sinner is called to find joy directly and immediately in “Christ for me.” In such cases the parlance of palatable Calvinism is this: God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him whom one is to assume to be the savior and redeemer of all men.[67]

Notes

1. For example, he stated, “Our confidence in evangelism comes from God’s freedom to ‘have mercy on whomever he wills’ (Rom 9:18).” John Piper, The Justification of God, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1993), 11.
2. This entire article was sent to John Piper’s assistant, Justin Taylor, to ensure that Piper’s theological position was represented fairly.
3. Bethlehem Baptist Church Staff, “What We Believe About the Five Points of Calvinism,” rev. ed. [booklet on-line] (1985; Minneapolis: Desiring God, 1998, accessed 23 August 2005); available from www.desiringgod.org/library/topics/doctrines_grace/tulip.html.
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid. Francis Turrettin also affirmed that blessings to reprobates come from the cross, but he did not explore a strong duality of wills as Piper did. Francis Turrettin, The Atonement of Christ, trans. James R. Wilson (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1978), 125.
6. Bethlehem Baptist, “Five Points of Calvinism” [on-line].
7. The following definitions see hypothetical universalism as the heart of Amyraldianism and/or Amyraut’s theology: Melanie Parry, “Amyraut,” in Chambers Biographical Dictionary (Edinburgh: W & R Chambers, 1990), 42; Andrew T. B. McGowan, “Amyraldianism,” in The Dictionary of Historical Theology, ed. Trevor A. Hart (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 12–13.
8. It is debated as to whether Amyraut followed Calvin’s view of the atonement. Alan C. Clifford, Calvinus: Authentic Calvinism, A Clarification (Norwich: Charenton Reformed Publishing, 1996).
9. Roger Nicole, “Amyraldism,” in New Dictionary of Theology, eds. Sinclair Ferguson, David F. Wright, and J. I. Packer (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2003), 17.
10. Roger Nicole disputed that this was a true defense of Calvin. Roger Nicole, review of The Controversy Over the Theology of Saumur, 1635–1650: Disrupting Debates among the Huguenots in Complicated Circumstances, by F. P. van Stam, Westminster Theological Journal 54 (Fall 1992): 394.
11. Martin Klauber, “The Helvetic Formula Consensus (1675): An Introduction and Translation,” Trinity Journal 11 (Spring 1990): 106-07.
12. Compare with J. I. Packer on the puritan John Owen: “Preaching the gospel, he [Owen] tells us, is not a matter of telling the congregation that God has set his love on each of them and Christ has died to save each of them, for these assertions, biblically understood, would imply that they will all infallibly be saved, and this cannot be known to be true.” J. I. Packer, A Quest for Godliness: The Puritan Vision of the Christian Life (Wheaton: Crossway, 1990), 139.
13. Jerry Walls and Joseph Dongell, Why I am Not a Calvinist (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2004), 12.
14. Warfield listed Amyraldianism under the title “inconsistently particularistic” and he criticized it as having the same problems as the “Lutheran and the Arminian.” B. B. Warfield, The Plan of Salvation (Avinger, TX: Simpson Publishing Company, 1989), 17.
15. Bethlehem Baptist, “Five Points of Calvinism” [on-line].
16. Ibid.
17. John Piper, Taste and See (Sisters, OR: Multnomah, 2005), 252. The chapter referenced here includes statements that Piper preferred an infralapsarianism over a supralapsarianism due to his statements about God’s passive actions toward the reprobate.
18. John Piper, The Pleasures of God: Revised and Expanded (Sisters, OR: Multnomah, 2000), 313.
19. Ibid., 333.
20. A. A. Hodge, The Atonement (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1953), 375. Hodge seemed to view God’s eternal and present will as being singular and having a singular salvific intention in the cross.
21. “Following a no-God—whatever his name or whatever his religion—will be a wasted life. God-in-Christ is the only true God and the only path to joy.” John Piper, Don’t Waste Your Life (Wheaton: Crossway, 2003), 38. Compare with statements concerning joy as duty in John Piper, The Dangerous Duty of Delight (Sisters, OR: Multnomah, 2001), 27.
22. Piper, Don’t Waste Your Life, 34.
23. Ibid., 40.
24. John Piper, The Passion of Jesus Christ (Wheaton: Crossway, 2004), 105.
25. Piper, Don’t Waste Your Life, 35 (emphasis added).
26. Ibid., 35.
27. “Christ’s dying for his own glory and his dying to show love are not only both true, they are both the same.” Piper, Passion of Jesus Christ, 82.
28. Piper, Taste and See, 44.
29. Piper, Passion of Jesus Christ, 29.
30. Bruce Ware, review of The Pleasures of God: Meditations on God’s Delight in Being God, by John Piper, Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 44 (December 2001): 755.
31. John Piper, Life as a Vapor: Thirty-One Meditations for Your Faith (Sisters, OR: Multnomah, 2004), 159.
32. For example, Francis Turrettin viewed “a love of God towards the whole human family” as an Arminian tenet. Turrettin, The Atonement of Christ, 119.
33. Piper, Passion of Jesus Christ, 21 (emphasis in original). Compare with this statement: “No, Father, love is this: At great expense you made yourself my glory and my boast.. .. You sent your Son, the blazing center of your glory and your love.” Piper, Don’t Waste Your Life, 186.
34. Piper, Passion of Jesus Christ, 28.
35. Moises Amyraut, as quoted by Frances Turrettin, The Atonement of Christ, 155.
36. Hodge, The Atonement, 363.
37. Piper, Don’t Waste Your Life, 9. Other books such as Life as a Vapor used inclusive language but did not specify or have an obvious intention toward nonbelievers.
38. Ibid., 38.
39. Ibid., 38.
40. Piper, Passion of Jesus Christ, 33.
41. R. T. Kendall, Calvin and English Calvinism to 1649 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1979), 14. G. Michael Thomas also asserted that there is no assurance through the direct act of Beza and adherents of limited atonement. G. Michael Thomas, The Extent of the Atonement: A Dilemma for Reformed Theology from Calvin to the Consensus (1536—1675) (Carlisle: Paternoster, 1997), 58. Compare with a similar view from Robert S. Candlish, The Atonement: Its Reality, Completeness and Extent (New York: T. Nelson and Sons, 1861), 224.
42. M. Charles Bell, Calvin and Scottish Theology: The Doctrine of Assurance (Edinburgh: The Handsel Press, 1985), 25. In this area, Bell agreed with Kendall and argued at length that this was John Calvin’s view.
43. Packer, Quest for Godliness, 140.
44. Roger Nicole, “John Calvin’s View of the Extent of the Atonement,” Westminister Theological Journal 47 (Fall 1985): 206.
45. “It is false, however, that all men are bound to believe that Christ died for them simply and absolutely.” Turrettin, The Atonement of Christ, 177.
46. Piper, The Pleasures of God, 313.
47. Randall Zachman, The Assurance of Faith: Conscience in the Theology of Martin Luther and John Calvin (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), 1. Compare with Piper, Taste and See, 86.
48. Piper, Taste and See, 73.
49. Piper, Passion of Jesus Christ, 49.
50. It could be argued that this statement is thinking after conversion, being in a book primarily for Christians. Piper, Life as a Vapor, 169 (emphasis in original).
51. Piper, Don’t Waste Your Life, 104.
52. Ibid., 104 (emphasis in original).
53. Piper, Future Grace (Sisters, OR: Multnomah, 1995), 13 (emphasis in original).
54. Piper, Passion of Jesus Christ, 30–31 (emphasis in original).
55. This assertion is somewhat tentative as it is unclear what he intended to communicate by quoting all of these verses without an explanation.
56. Piper, Taste and See, 87.
57. In the first instance, he stated, “For faith to be real there must be a supernatural ‘light’ that God shines into the heart to show us that Christ is glorious” and in the second instance he stated that people are not saved because “they have never come to see the glory of Christ as compellingly glorious.” Ibid. (emphasis added).
58. Hodge, The Atonement, 360. Compare with Francis Turrettin’s statements against those who believe “Christ died with an intention to save all, provided they would believe.” Turrettin, The Atonement of Christ, 119.
59. Ibid., 361.
60. Zachman, The Assurance of Faith, 6
61. Ibid., 6.
62. Turrettin, The Atonement of Christ, 188.
63. Ibid., 177.
64. Piper, Taste and See, 326.
65. Ibid., 326.
66. Piper, The Dangerous Duty of Delight, 13.
67. Ibid., 21.

The Angel Of The Lord Aids The Son Of David In Matthew 1–2

By David H. Wenkel

[David H. Wenkel is an adjunct faculty member at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, Deerfield, Illinois.]

Abstract

Recent Matthean studies have focused on the presence of “the angel of the Lord” in Matthew 1–2 as reflecting Jesus’s identity as the divine “Immanuel” and son of God. This conclusion must be expanded to include Jesus’s identity as the son of David and king of Israel. Support for this derives from exegetical details in Matthew 1–2, Matthew’s use of apocalyptic discourse, concepts from Second Temple Judaism, and especially Old Testament antece-dent theology.

* * *

The figure of the “angel of the Lord” appears four times in Matthew 1–2 and does not appear again until after the resurrection, when “an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone and sat on it” (28:2). In the table below, it is evident that Matthew took care to establish a pattern in the first two chapters but departed from it afterward.

Matthew	Figure	Description	Context	Generalized Action
1:20, 24	“angel of the Lord”	“appeared”	“in a dream”	commanded
2:12	N/A	N/A	“in a dream”	warned
2:13	“angel of the Lord”	“appeared”	“in a dream”	commanded
2:19	“angel of the Lord”	“appeared”	“in a dream”	commanded
28:2	“angel of the Lord”	“descended”	“from heaven”	sat down and talked

In Matthew 28, this angel appears in person, not in a dream, and talks with the women seeking Jesus’s body. In chapters 1–2, Matthew presents this angel as helping Joseph when he was going to divorce Mary and when Jesus’s life was threatened by Herod. The presence of this angel may also be inferred from the “warning” in “a dream” given to the wise men not to return to Herod (2:12).

The Old Testament regularly uses the phrase “angel of the Lord” to describe a divine figure.[1] This study assumes that the angel of the Lord in Matthew, however, is not divine but an angelic, created being who acts on behalf of God.[2] Why, then, does this angel appear, and what does this appearance contribute to Matthew’s portrait of Jesus? Recent studies have suggested that the angel is correlated with Jesus as “Immanuel” or the manifestation of “God with us.”[3] In this view, the angel is present with Jesus because he is divine. However, another option is more inclusive and befitting of the data. While the angels are indeed with Jesus because he is the divine son of God, they also reflect his identity as the human son of David.

This article offers five main supports for this claim, with most of the evidence drawing from Old Testament antecedent theology. First, the angel of the Lord appears immediately after Jesus is identified by the genealogy as the “son of David.” Second, the angel of the Lord appears amid conflict, issuing commands to Joseph and the wise men like a military commander. Third, the commanding nature of the angel’s appearance points to a militaristic conflict. Fourth, the canonical context of this text evokes the connection between the God of angel armies and the Davidic king. Fifth, the God of angel armies will bring about the Davidic covenant.

The Angel Of The Lord Aids The Son Of David

First, the appearance of the angel of the Lord follows Jesus’s introduction in the genealogy as the “son of David.” For the purpose of this argument, it is important to read Matthew 1–2 as Matthew, rather than as redacted Mark or Q (or “Quelle,” meaning “source”). This study attempts to read Matthew as a real work of the first century rather than as a specimen in the laboratory of post-modernity. The historical-critical method is well known for reading Matthew as something other than itself.[4] Mark may indeed be “thoroughly apocalyptic” and a major source for Matthew.[5] It may even have provided structure for Matthew’s approach to geography and place.[6] Luke may also have provided some material.[7] But Matthew’s witness must be heard in its own voice as a coherent whole Gospel. For example, the text of Matthew is keenly interested in the final judgment, God’s wrath, and the exorcism of demons, but at least one theory about Q finds “little interest in exorcisms, demons, and Satan.”[8] If Matthew is read as redacted Q, Matthew’s distinct theology may be lost. It is not necessary to deny the possibility of redaction, but this study places an emphasis on listening to Matthew’s unique portrait of Jesus, the son of David.

Broadly speaking, the first chapter of Matthew focuses on the “who” question. Matthew reveals his purpose in the “way [he] presents certain information about Jesus.”[9] Two important points can be drawn from the genealogy and birth narrative. First, Jesus is the son of David. Second, Jesus is the embodiment of Yahweh, the human-yet-divine presence of God who has come to save his people. This identity of Jesus as the answer to the “who” question is evident from the focus on names and genealogy, with the climax coming in Jesus’s name Immanuel (“God with us”) in Matthew 1:23. The identity of Jesus established in Matthew 2 is critical for the whole narrative that follows and the conflict between heaven and hell that constantly accompanies Jesus.

Matthew labors to demonstrate from the start that Jesus was born a king.[10] There is a sense in which Jesus becomes a king, and there is also a sense in which he has always been a king. It is true that Jesus’s “kingdom dawns with his cross/resurrection/ascension/ session,”[11] but in Matthew 1, the emphasis is on Jesus as the king at his birth. This kingship is publicly established at the beginning of his ministry (Matt 3), and he is portrayed as reigning over the wheat and tares of the “kingdom of heaven” (Matt 13).[12] The appearance of the baby Jesus as king occasions conflict; a murderous rage of vast powers seeks to destroy him.

One of the most important Christological titles for Jesus in Matthew is “Son of God.” Along with Matthew’s interest in the Gentiles, he is profoundly interested in the nation of Israel as God’s covenant people.[13] Israel is identified as “God’s son” (Exod 4:22); so it is vitally important that Jesus is God’s son.[14] This title is repeated eight times throughout the text of Matthew (4:3, 6; 8:29; 14:33; 26:63; 27:40, 43, 54 [cf. 5:9]). It refers to Jesus fulfilling Israel’s destiny to be a kingdom of priests, a light to the nations, and those who love God.[15] Jesus is the Israelite par excellence. He embodies Israel and recapitulates her story as he is called out of Egypt (2:15). Even Satan recognizes that Jesus is “the Son of God” and can claim God’s promise of protection from Psalm 91:11–12 // Matthew 4:6: “He will command his angels concerning you.”

Another important Christological title for Matthew’s portrayal of Jesus is “son of David.” Jesus is the son of David through the legal fatherhood of Joseph (1:20). In spite of Mary’s pregnancy by the Holy Spirit, Jesus is the legal son of Joseph and thus “grafted into David’s line.”[16] Jesus has the legal right to use and respond to the messianic title “son of David” in his ministry (9:27). The title “son of David” is closely related to the name Immanuel, which Matthew introduces with a fulfillment formula, citing the Septuagint of Isaiah 7:14.[17] Both the name Immanuel and the interpretation “God with us” establish the twin themes of “divine sonship of Jesus as well as his Davidic lineage.”[18] Matthew also highlights Jesus’s relationship to David by noting that the period of kings can be rendered in fourteen generations, perfect multiples of seven (1:17).

The crucial point here is that Matthew’s repeated details about this angel of the Lord in chapters 1–2 reflect his interest in promise and fulfillment as indicated by Matthew 1:22. Thus, when the angel of the Lord protects Jesus, he is protecting and establishing the son of David so that God’s promises never fail, while also reflecting God’s love for “his Son,” who embodies Israel.

The Angel Of The Lord Works Amid Conflict

Second, the angel of the Lord’s commands suggest a military context and cosmic conflict. This reading of Matthew 1–2 views this Gospel as containing apocalyptic discourse. Following the opening genealogy of Jesus (1:1–17) and his birth narrative (vv. 18–25) comes the visit of the wise men to see the newly born “king of the Jews.” The narrative about their visit is followed by Herod’s attempt to destroy Jesus, Jesus’s escape to Egypt, and his subsequent return to Judea. These are cosmic conflict scenes in which the life of the nascent messiah of Israel is under threat. There are no references to demons or Satan; yet according to Matthew’s apocalyptic worldview, these powers are working in earnest, veiled only by the work of human actors.[19] The wise men’s search for the infant king Jesus is met with murderous jealousy and rage.[20] Apocalyptically speaking, this open warfare against the infant Jesus by Herod is nothing less than Satan wielding his power over the human authorities on earth. Such a conflict requires the intervention of Yahweh—the God of the armies of Israel who fights on behalf of his Davidic king. Two exegetical details from Matthew 1–2 point to the angel of the Lord operating amid conflict.

First, the angel of the Lord speaks with commands. Matthew shows that Joseph obeyed completely and immediately. His obedience is emphasized by the repetition of “taking” in 1:20 and “he took” in 1:24 as well as “rise” in 2:13 and “he rose” in 2:14. The commands may even suggest the angel’s role as an angelic soldier in the “host” or army of heaven. The angel commanded Joseph partly because Joseph was ignorant of God’s plans—which is why Mary’s pregnancy had to be explained to him. These angelic commands also protected Jesus and his family from the murderous plots of Herod. The command-and-obey pattern found in Matthew 1–2 stands in contrast to the angel who sits on the stone and converses in Matthew 28. The women at the tomb initially fear for their lives, but the angel’s language and their responses focus on news of the risen Lord Jesus, not on “verbatim obedience.”[21]

Second, the angel of the Lord’s appearance in dreams has to do with royalty. The angel paradoxically “appears,” but is not seen outside of dreams. Only when the stone is rolled away in Matthew 28:2 is the angel physically seen. The language of “appearing” in conjunction with these dreams suggests that those who experienced them had unusual confidence in their interpretation. In a sense, these dreams needed no interpretation.[22] In Second Temple Judaism, dreams were associated with royal persons and expressed God’s special concern in human affairs.[23] For example, Josephus’s account of the dreams of Archelaus and Glaphyra were included especially for these two purposes (Ant. 17.345–456). Josephus includes extrabiblical accounts of dreams in his accounts of Gideon (Ant. 5.215), David (Ant. 7.147), and Solomon (Ant. 8.125).

The repeated appearance of the angel of the Lord in Matthew 1–2 directs the reader to God’s special intervention in human affairs because of the cosmic nature of the conflict and the warfare against his Son. The presence of this angel within the apocalyptic discourse of Matthew’s Gospel points to the reality of cosmic conflict between unseen spiritual forces. The commands and warnings of this angel also point to the royal identity of Jesus and the importance of his protection.

The Angel Of The Lord Evokes The God Of Angelic Armies

Third, the reality of angelic conflict evokes the title “Yahweh Sabaoth”—the God of armies who uses angels to fight on behalf of the Davidic king of Israel.[24]

The first two times that Yahweh reveals himself to be Yahweh Sabaoth (“the God of armies”) in the Hebrew Bible are in 1 Samuel (1:3, 11).[25] Although the identity Yahweh Sabaoth is used elsewhere in the Old Testament,[26] the exegetical nuances of its appearances in 1–2 Samuel and 1–2 Kings offer clues as to who Yahweh Sabaoth is and what he does. The uses of this title in 1 Samuel focus on David or function within the narrative progression that culminates in the Davidic monarchy.

The Septuagint text of 1 Samuel (1 Reigns) has substantial differences from the Masoretic manuscripts. However, for the purposes of the present argument, these textual variants are negligible. The Septuagint regularly avoids the Tetragrammaton, so forms of κυρίος plus σαβαωθ appear in 1 Reigns 1:3, 11, 20; 15:2; and 17:45 (see also Josh 6:17, LXX).

The first appearance of the title “Yahweh Sabaoth” in 1 Samuel is related to David only broadly, as it occurs in the description of Elkanah, the husband of Hannah and Peninnah. “Now this man used to go up year by year from his city to worship and sacrifice to the Lord of hosts [“Yahweh Sabaoth”] at Shiloh” (1:3).[27] The use of this title for God at this point is difficult because there is no immediate context to explain it. But the title takes on greater clarity as 1 Samuel progresses.

A second reference to Yahweh Sabaoth appears in 1:11, again in the context of the temple at Shiloh, which was the tent of meeting. Hannah includes this title in her prayer for a son. Eli the priest blesses Hannah as she departs with a request that her petition may be granted by the God of Israel (1:17). Hannah’s prayer adds a personal dimension to Yahweh Sabaoth while also connecting the title to her son Samuel—the one who would eventually anoint David as king (16:13).

The Septuagint includes a third reference to Yahweh Sabaoth in 1 Reigns 1:20 in Hannah’s explanation of Samuel’s name: “Because from the Lord God of Hosts [ὃτι παρὰ κυρίου θεοῦ σαβαωθ], I asked for him.”[28] The end of Hannah’s song in 1 Samuel 2 continues to press the narrative toward a Davidic king with the reference to the future exaltation of “the horn of his anointed” (2:10).[29]

The description of worship in Shiloh associates the title Yahweh Sabaoth with angels. The ceremonial worship of Yahweh was in and around the temple, or “house of Yahweh” (1:7, 24), in Shiloh where the ark of the covenant was kept (3:3). The text of 1 Chronicles 13:6 describes the “ark of God” as “called by the name of the Lord who sits enthroned above the cherubim.” This is similar to the description in 1 Samuel 4:3: “Let us bring the ark of the covenant of the Lord here from Shiloh.” One of the key points here is that the title Yahweh Sabaoth is associated with the unseen realm of angels and cherubim when he is described as seated between cherubim (4:4), God’s angelic army.[30] On two other occasions, the word צָבָא is used for a human army in the phrase “commander of the army” (12:9; 14:50), strengthening the association between Yahweh Sabaoth and armies. It is likely that because the ark was associated with Yahweh’s military powers, perhaps angelic powers, it was taken to the battlefield as a quasi-magical talisman after Israel was defeated by the Philistines (4:3).[31]

The Angel Of The Lord Evokes The Davidic King

Fourth, the canonical context of the “angel of the Lord” in Matthew 1–2 evokes the connection between the God of angel armies and his protection of the Davidic king. The title Yahweh Sabaoth in 1 Samuel points to the larger context and trajectory that ends in the kingship of David. The Lord heard Hannah’s prayer and vow, and she bore a son named Samuel (1 Sam 1:20). He foreshadowed David with piety, faithfulness, and godly leadership.[32] Samuel was a “prophet of the Lord” who received revelation from Yahweh about establishing a human king in Israel (3:19–21). Samuel also functioned as a judge over Israel (7:7) and as a priest (7:9, 17).

At the end of Samuel’s life and the twilight of his ministry to Israel, the people of Israel asked him for a king (1 Sam 8:6). This led to warnings from Samuel, but the people were determined to be like other nations (8:19–20). This passage tightly associated kingship with the defense of the people and military prowess. The king of Israel must be able to judge Israel internally and protect the nation externally. He must be able to fight the battles of Israel. Before a human king was established in Israel, there were prophets and priests (such as Samuel), but Yahweh was the sole king of the nation.[33] A human king would replace or at least supplement Yahweh as king of Israel. There is a certain tension between the pursuit of any human king, which is a rejection of Yahweh (8:7), and the establishment of David as “his [God’s] king” (2 Sam 22:51).[34] Within the literary trajectory of 1 Samuel, the description of what the people want in a king is suggestive of what Yahweh Sabaoth already is—the king of Israel who fights on behalf of his people.

The trajectory that began with the piety of Elkanah and Hannah toward Yahweh, the God of Armies, ends with a prophet/priest who transitions Israel into having a human king. This result points to the significance of the God of Israel as Yahweh Sabaoth in the opening frames of the book: it describes who he is and what he does. Specifically, Yahweh Sabaoth is the king of Israel who sovereignly controls the destiny of Israel for his purposes, including the establishment of the Davidic king.

The fourth instance of Yahweh Sabaoth in 1 Samuel occurs when Yahweh speaks through Samuel to King Saul with directives about destroying the Amalekites (1 Sam 15:1–3). This narrative immediately leads to Yahweh’s rejection of Saul as king over Israel because Saul disobeyed and kept the best sheep, oxen, calves, and lambs. After this, Yahweh “regretted” making Saul king (15:11). This paved the way for David to take the throne. Once again, the title Yahweh Sabaoth seems related to his sovereign control of human affairs to bring about the Davidic throne.

The fifth appearance of the title Yahweh Sabaoth in 1 Samuel directly relates to David and offers more contextual clues about its significance. The narrative of 1 Samuel 17 describes Israel facing the dreaded Philistines in the Valley of Elah, with King Saul leading Israel against Goliath of Gath. Goliath, a fearsome warrior, began taunting “the ranks of Israel,” leaving the army and King Saul “dismayed and greatly afraid” (17:11). Goliath’s use of curses from an unnamed god makes this scene a theological challenge between the god(s) of the Philistines and Yahweh (17:43).[35]

Contextual clues point to Yahweh Sabaoth as the one who fights for Israel through David, perhaps even through angels. Goliath shouted to the “ranks of Israel,” “Why have you come out to draw up for battle?” (17:8). David showed his understanding of the title Yahweh Sabaoth: “Then David said to the Philistine, ‘You come to me with a sword and with a spear and with a javelin, but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts [Yahweh Sabaoth], the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied’ ” (1 Sam 17:45).

In David’s war cry, Yahweh Sabaoth moves from the obscure and ceremonial (1 Sam 1:3) to a title with personal and clarified connotations. The title is here related to the person of David as well as the whole army of Israel with King Saul. Some commentators draw attention to the plural noun: “the God of the armies [מַעַרְכוֹת] of Israel.” Such a description of Israel’s present state in the battle suggests that there was more going on than met the eye. The plural may have referred to unseen angelic forces fighting on behalf of Israel.[36] David’s war cry suggests that Yahweh Sabaoth should be understood as “Yahweh the God of armies,” which, in the context of 1 Samuel 17, includes angelic forces such as the cherubim and the human forces of Israel, especially David.

David’s war cry in 1 Samuel 17:45 may even reveal him to be leading the charge of both human and spiritual forces fighting for Israel. When David charges Goliath, he goes alone, physically speaking, but his war cry points to his faith in Yahweh’s spiritual presence. His sling was essentially no weapon at all, and the text emphasizes “there was no sword in the hand of David” (17:50). Israel’s crisis required a strong and capable king and/or warrior, but David was only a boy (17:14, 33, 42, 55, 58; 16:11). The narrative’s attention to David’s lack of traditional weaponry and his shepherd’s sling points to a total dependence on Yahweh to fight for him. David functions as the “shepherd-king” of Israel while Saul is only nominally king.[37] The dynamics of the story in 1 Samuel suggest that David leads the armies of God, both human and angelic, on behalf of Israel.

It seems, then, that the title Yahweh Sabaoth in the narrative context of 1 Samuel means the “God of armies” both angelic and human. This conclusion complements the conjecture that the title refers to “the heavenly king who sits on his cherubim throne in the temple.”[38] In addition, Yahweh Sabaoth fights on behalf of his people Israel, especially through David, as is indicated by David’s war cry in 1 Samuel 17:45. Yahweh reveals himself to be the “God of armies” in relationship to David and establishes an important salvation-historical precedent: the “God of armies” helps the king of Israel. Thus, when the “angel of the Lord” appears and protects David’s son Jesus, the canonical context points to his identity as the Davidic king who relies on the God of angel armies.

The Angel Of The Lord Evokes The Davidic Covenant

Fifth, the close connection between Yahweh Sabaoth and the house of David focuses on the establishment of a covenant. The phrase “son of David” draws in a large corpus of texts that center on the Davidic covenant in 2 Samuel 7. David’s prayer of gratitude in response to God’s covenant reiterates what was spoken by the Lord: “And your name will be magnified forever, saying, ‘The Lord of hosts [Yahweh Sabaoth] is God over Israel,’ and the house of your servant David will be established before you” (7:26). From a human perspective, the promise of a name magnified “forever” seems to be hyperbole at best. But Yahweh’s covenant with David is to be taken at face value: “And now, O Lord God, you are God, and your words are true” (7:28). God’s promise will come to pass and reflects his power as the “Lord of hosts” (Yahweh Sabaoth).

This connection between the Davidic covenant and its future establishment by the hand of Yahweh Sabaoth is evident in the post-exilic prophet Zechariah: “On that day the Lord will protect the inhabitants of Jerusalem, so that the feeblest among them on that day shall be like David, and the house of David shall be like God, like the angel of the Lord, going before them” (Zech 12:8).

This text from Zechariah establishes a hope that David’s house will be “elevated to a divine or semi-divine status,” being “like God.”[39] It also specifically refers to an angel of the Lord who will go before the house of David. Despite the lexical and conceptual parallels between the ἄγγελος κυρίου in Matthew 1:20, 24; 2:13, 19; and 28:2 and the ἄγγελος κυρίου in the Septuagint of Zechariah 12:8, commentators are reluctant to see an allusion here.[40] However, Matthew has “mined deeply” from Zechariah, and this text explains the presence of this mysterious “angel of the Lord.”[41]

Again, Matthew’s interest in providing repeated details about this angel of the Lord in chapters 1–2 may reflect his focus on promise and fulfillment. Because Joseph is descended from David, Jesus is also a son of David and the promises of 2 Samuel 7:12 and Psalm 89:4 are being fulfilled.[42] According to Matthew, the birth of Jesus meant that God was fulling his promise through Jesus who was both Immanuel (“God with us”)—and thus “like God”—and a “son of David,” establishing the “house of David” forever.

The title Yahweh Sabaoth reflects God’s sovereign control over Israel’s destiny, working in the affairs of humanity to bring about his purposes, including his covenant with David. In 1 Samuel, this title seems to be closely associated with the establishment of the Davidic kingship. When the baby Jesus appears, his identity as the son of David evokes the promises of Yahweh Sabaoth, who achieves his covenantal purposes through his angelic army.

Conclusion

The presence of the angel of the Lord in Matthew 1–2 reinforces the presentation of Jesus as the royal son of David. This angel protects Jesus and directs those around him because Jesus is Immanuel and the son of David. This conclusion is supported by the immediate literary context of Matthew 1–2 and the Old Testament antecedent theology that associates Yahweh’s angelic army with the protection of his Davidic king. First, the appearance of the angel of the Lord in Matthew 1–2 follows Jesus’s introduction as the son of David. Second, the angel of the Lord’s commands suggest a military context. Third, the angelic conflict in Matthew’s apocalyptic discourse evokes the title of Yahweh Sabaoth—the God of armies who uses angels to fight on behalf of the Davidic king of Israel. Fourth, the wider canonical context of the angel of the Lord in Matthew 1–2 recalls the connection between the God of angel armies and his protection of the Davidic king. Fifth, the close connection between Yahweh Sabaoth and the house of David focuses on the establishment of a covenant.

Two important points should be drawn from Old Testament antecedent theology. First, Yahweh Sabaoth is associated with establishing the covenantal and eternal house of David. Second, the title Yahweh Sabaoth is associated with God’s authority over the angelic army of heaven. This connection between Yahweh Sabaoth and the Davidic king and covenant extends even to the postexilic prophets such as Zechariah, who provided a theological and conceptual bridge into the new covenant era. The presence of the angel of the Lord in Matthew 1–2 supports Jesus’s identity as the king of Israel as well as the continuation of God’s plan to bring about a house of David, as promised in 2 Samuel 7. Matthew uses the angel of the Lord to present Jesus as the son of David—the one who embodies God’s saving presence on behalf of all sinners and fulfills Yahweh’s promises to Israel.

Notes

1. Exod 14:19; 2 Kgs 19:35; 2 Sam 14:17, 20; 16:23. The literature on this topic is voluminous. Important volumes include Charles A. Gieschen, Angelomorphic Christology: Antecedents and Early Evidence, Arbeiten zur Geschichte des antiken Judentums und des Urchristentums 42 (Leiden: Brill, 1998). For a recent study of angelomorphic Christology and seeing God “face to face,” see David H. Wenkel, Shining Like the Sun: A Biblical Theology of Meeting God Face to Face (Bellingham, WA: Lexham, 2018).
2. So also Gerhard Maier, Das Evangelium des Matthäus: Kapitel 1–14, Historisch-Theologische Auslegung (Witten: SCM R. Brockhaus, 2015), 79; John Nolland, The Gospel of Matthew: A Commentary on the Greek Text, New International Greek Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), 95; Daniel J. Harrington, The Gospel of Matthew, Sacra Pagina (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2007), 35; David L. Turner, Matthew, Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2008), 66. For the view that this angel is a euphemism for God, see Stephen L. White, “Angel of the Lord: Messenger or Euphemism?,” Tyndale Bulletin 50 (1999): 299–305.
3. Kristian A. Bendoraitis, “Behold, the Angels Came and Served Him”: A Compositional Analysis of Angels in Matthew, Library of New Testament Studies 523 (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2015), 42; Young S. Chae, Jesus as the Eschatological Davidic Shepherd: Studies in the Old Testament, Second Temple Judaism, and in the Gospel of Matthew: Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 2/216 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2015), 89. For similar conclusions about the angel and the concept of “God with us,” see David D. Kupp, Matthew’s Emmanuel: Divine Presence and God’s People in the First Gospel, Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series 90 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 57–59. Ulrich Luz also focuses exclusively on Jesus as “Immanuel” in Matthew 2:1–12 when he states, “The christological theme is only intimated in this story. One might say that it is mirrored in people’s reaction to Immanuel—in the murderous rejection of the Christ by the murderous Jewish king, Herod.” Ulrich Luz, Matthew 1–7, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), 115.
4. Dale Allison Jr., Studies in Matthew: Interpretation Past and Present (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2005), 234; echoed by Jason B. Hood, The Messiah, His Brothers, and the Nations: Matthew 1.1–17, Library of New Testament Studies (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2011), 139.
5. Greg Carey, Apocalyptic Literature in the New Testament (Nashville: Abingdon, 2016), 94, cf. 10.
6. R. T. France comments, “The first obvious point is that Matthew has adopted the same narrative structure as Mark.” R. T. France, “Matthew and Jerusalem,” in Built upon the Rock: Studies in the Gospel of Matthew, ed. Daniel M. Gurtner and John Nolland (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 111.
7. Harold Riley, The First Gospel (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1992), 130.
8. John S. Kloppenborg, “Symbolic Eschatology and the Apocalypticism of Q,” Harvard Theological Review 80, no. 3 (1987): 298–99.
9. D. A. Carson, Matthew, rev. ed., Expositor’s Bible Commentary (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010), 45.
10. Here I draw heavily from comments by D. A. Carson, “The Tripartite Division of the Law: A Review of Philip Ross, The Finger of God,” in From Creation to New Creation: Biblical Theology and Exegesis, ed. Daniel M. Gurtner and Benjamin L. Gladd (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2013), 231.
11. Carson, “The Tripartite Division of the Law,” 231.
12. Carson, “The Tripartite Division of the Law,” 231.
13. On Jesus as the “son of David” and “son of God” for the salvation of Israel and for the rest of the world in relation to Abraham, see Peter Fiedler, Das Matthäusevangelium, Theologischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1993), 92.
14. Further references to Israel as God’s son include Jeremiah 3:9; 31:20; Deuteronomy 14:1; 32:5; and Psalm 82:6.
15. James D. G. Dunn, Christology in the Making: A New Testament Inquiry into the Origins of the Doctrine of the Incarnation, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1989), 48–49, 59. Also see Nicholas G. Piotrowski, Matthew’s New David at the End of Exile: A Socio-Rhetorical Study of Scriptural Quotations, Supplements to Novum Testamentum 170 (Leiden: Brill, 2016), 118–20.
16. David E. Garland, Reading Matthew: A Literary and Theological Commentary on the First Gospel (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys, 2001), 21.
17. The name “Immanuel” likely draws from Isaiah 8:10 in the Septuagint: “Speak a word, but it will not help, for God is with us” (Bendoraitis, “Behold, the Angels Came and Served Him,” 42). For a comparison of Matthew 1:21b, 23 and the Septuagint of Isaiah 7:14, see Charlene McAfee Moss, The Zechariah Tradition and the Gospel of Matthew, Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft 156 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2008), 18.
18. Bendoraitis, “Behold, the Angels Came and Served Him,” 42.
19. Matthew’s Gospel follows the genre of a bios containing Jewish apocalyptic discourse. On Matthew’s Gospel as “apocalyptic,” see Percival Hadfield, “Matthew the Apocalyptic Editor,” London Quarterly and Holborn Review 184 (1959): 128–32; Donald A. Hagner, “Apocalyptic Motifs in the Gospel of Matthew: Continuity and Discontinuity,” Horizons in Biblical Theology 7, no. 2 (1985): 6; Leopold Sabourin, “Apocalyptic Traits in Matthew’s Gospel,” Religious Studies Bulletin 3, no. 1 (1983): 19; Daniel M. Gurtner, “Interpreting Apocalyptic Symbolism in the Gospel of Matthew,” Bulletin for Biblical Research 22, no. 4 (2012): 527. For a discussion of Matthew’s use of apocalyptic materials from Zechariah, see Moss, The Zechariah Tradition and the Gospel of Matthew, 211.
20. Josephus writes that Herod the Great showed “great barbarity toward all men equally” (Ant. 17.191).
21. Bendoraitis, “Behold, the Angels Came and Served Him,” 198.
22. “Weil der Engel klare Weisungen gibt, braucht der Traum keine Deutung.” Walter Klaiber, Das Matthäusevangelium, Teilband 1: Mt 1, 1–16, 20 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2015), 28.
23. Louis H. Feldman, “Prophets and Prophecy in Josephus,” in Prophets, Prophecy, and Prophetic Texts in Second Temple Judaism; ed. Michael H. Floyd and Robert D. Haak, Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies 427 (London: T&T Clark, 2006), 228. Also see the discussion by Rebecca Gray, Prophetic Figures in Late Second Temple Jewish Palestine: The Evidence from Josephus (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993), 27–28.
24. The word “Sabaoth” uses the Hebrew root צבא and is transliterated in Greek as σαβαωθ, occurring twice in the New Testament (Rom 9:29; Jam 5:4). It occurs about 261 times in the Masoretic text, usually with Yahweh but also with Elohim and variations (24x).
25. David Toshio Tsumura, The First Book of Samuel, New International Commentary on the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 110; Ralph W. Klein, 1 Samuel, Word Biblical Commentary (Dallas: Word, 1998), 7.
26. For other uses of “Yahweh Sabaoth” regarding angels, see 1 Kings 22:19; 2 Chronicles 18:18; Nehemiah 9:6; Zechariah 4:6; and Amos 9:5a.
27. On the location of the “temple” or tent of meeting in Shiloh, see Joshua 18:1–10 and Judges 18:31.
28. Unless otherwise noted, all English quotations from the Septuagint are from Albert Pietersma and Benjamin G. Wright, eds., A New English Translation of the Septuagint (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009).
29. Sirach 47:5 identifies David’s defeat of Goliath as Yahweh exalting “the horn of his people.”
30. The concept that Yahweh is the God of angels appears throughout the Old Testament. For references to Yahweh and cherubim, see Exodus 25:22; Numbers 7:89; 2 Samuel 6:2; Psalms 80:l; and 99:1. Yahweh is a king who is “mighty in battle” (Ps 24:4). That Yahweh is a warrior and even a “man of war” (Exod 15:3) is an important theme not only in Moses’s song but in the Old Testament as a whole.
31. Roland de Vaux, Ancient Israel: Its Life and Institutions, trans. John McHugh (1961; reprint, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), 304.
32. Peter J. Leithart, A Son to Me: An Exposition of 1 and 2 Samuel (Moscow, ID: Canon, 2003), 48.
33. On Yahweh as the king of Israel see Gideon’s refusal to accept the kingship of Israel: “I will not rule over you, and my son will not rule over you; the Lord will rule over you” (Judg 8:23).
34. For a helpful discussion of this tension, see Stephen B. Chapman, 1 Samuel as Christian Scripture: A Theological Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016), 78–79.
35. For comments on the “theological struggle” between David and Goliath see Klein, 1 Samuel, 180, and James E. Smith, 1 and 2 Samuel, College Press NIV Commentary (Joplin, MO: College Press, 2000), 228.
36. Mary J. Evans, 1 and 2 Samuel, Understanding the Bible Commentary Series (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2012), 83.
37. Klein, 1 Samuel, 183.
38. Tsumura, The First Book of Samuel, 110; similarly Robert Alter, The David Story: A Translation with Commentary on 1 and 2 Samuel (London: W. W. Norton, 1999), 20; Leithart, A Son to Me, 191.
39. Chae, Jesus as the Eschatological Davidic Shepherd, 89.
40. This potential parallel is omitted by Wayne Baxter, Israel’s Only Shepherd: Matthew’s Shepherd Motif, Library of New Testament Studies (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2012); John Nolland, “The King as Shepherd: The Role of Deutero-Zechariah in Matthew,” in Biblical Interpretation in Early Christian Gospels: Volume 2: The Gospel of Matthew (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2015), 133–46; Clay A. Ham, The Coming King and the Rejected Shepherd: Matthew’s Reading of Zechariah’s Messianic Hope (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2005); and P. Foster, “The Use of Zechariah in Matthew’s Gospel,” in The Book of Zechariah and Its Influence, ed. C. Tuckett (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2003), 65–85.
41. Moss, The Zechariah Tradition and the Gospel of Matthew, 212.
42. Maier, Das Evangelium des Matthäus, 80.