The Missionary Heart of Exodus

Interview by Matthew Claridge–

Many things come to mind when thinking about the Old Testament. “Missions” is not typically the first on the list. In fact, “missions-mindedness” is often made one of the points of difference between the New and the Old Testament. We’ve all likely heard things like the following: “The OT is nationalistic; the NT is international is scope. The OT is centripetal, attracting the nations to Zion, the NT is centrifugal, radiating the gospel from Zion to the nations.” But these kind of cut-and-dry distinctions often leave much biblical material scattered about the floor. In Dr. Ross Blackburn’s new contribution to the NSBT series, The God Who Makes Himself Known, we are given a superb treatment of how ” missions” is anticipated in the pages of the OT, particularly in the book of Exodus. After reading this book, I felt convinced that Exodus should be my next preaching series. Believe me, you will see a facet of the biblical diamond you haven’t seen before.

 What’s the problem with most treatments of “mission” that begin in the NT and dip now and again into the OT? How does your analysis of the book of Exodus seek to rectify that standard approach?

At the most basic level, any treatment of the NT that does not take its bearings from the OT will do one of two things: It will either go astray, for the language, images, history, and theology that make sense of the NT are found there, or it will miss the fullness of what the NT seeks to communicate for the same reasons.  Obviously, the testaments need to be read in light of one another.  But there is, to my mind, a real risk in starting with the NT and then seeking to understand how the OT illuminates it, for again it presupposes an understanding of the NT that cannot be achieved without a prior appreciation for the Old.  What I have tried to do is look at Exodus on its own terms, and then to understand how the rest of the OT and NT builds upon and extends the concerns found in Exodus.  In short, part of reading the Scriptures wisely is honoring the canonical order in which they are given.  Given that mission begins in the OT (actually in Genesis 1 as I argue in the book), it is important to begin there, and build from there.

 Your book argues on many levels that the missionary impulse of the OT is more contiguous with the NT than often realized. Granted that your thesis seeks to defend this continuity, nonetheless how would you distinguish the missionary thrust of the Old and New Testaments?

I do think there is an element of going present in the NT that is not as apparent in the OT, where the nations, responding to Israel’s witness, would come to join the people of Israel (e.g. Isaiah 2:1-4, where the nations come to Jerusalem).  There is also a sense where preaching appears to be central to the proclamation of the gospel in a way not as apparent in the OT.  In both cases, while these emphases are not absent in the OT (see, most explicitly, Jonah, or the Psalms, where declaring the works of God among the nations is a frequent theme), they do seem to be emphasized to a much greater extent in the NT.

 I believe a unique feature of your book is its hermeneutical awareness. Your book is not only exegetical and programmatic, but also apologetic as you interact with critical theories regarding the composition of Exodus. Tell us a little bit about this structure and why you chose to structure it in this way.

In large part, hermeneutics is the endeavor to understand the relationship between A and B, such as two verses (e.g. Exodus 6:3 and Genesis 4:26), two passages (e.g. Genesis 1 and Genesis 2), or two themes (e.g. mercy and judgment).  One of the fruits of modern Biblical study has been a loss of confidence that the Bible exhibits literary and/or theological coherence, which has led to an increasing tendency to default to source or editorial explanations to account for literary or theological difficulties.  In other words, when A does not appear to fit with B, modern scholarship has often assigned A and B to different sources or traditions, thus fragmenting the text and, in so doing, leaving the difficulty aside.  This begs a question: on what grounds do we assume A does not fit with B?  While the reasons for such an assessment may vary, hermeneutical difficulties often arise from a failure to see a particular passage or problem firmly in the canonical context in which it appears.  If we were more persistent in looking at the text in its canonical form, and wrestling hard with it there, we might find that some of these hermeneutical problems are less troublesome.

It bears mentioning that dangers lie in both directions.  While it is true that an expectation of disunity makes it easier to find it, it is also true that a priori expectations of Biblical unity can lead to forced harmonization, thereby distorting the Bible’s witness in its own way.  If the Bible is theologically coherent, it should be able to be demonstrated exegetically, not just insisted upon a priori.  The structure of the book—introducing each chapter by raising a traditionally difficult hermeneutical problem, then seeking to demonstrate how examining that problem in light of the canonical whole of Exodus makes sense of it—is an effort to make this case through exegetical example. The next question you ask about Exodus 6:3 is a good example of what I am seeking to do.  In the end, it is my hope the book will serve as an encouragement to take difficult texts and read them in light of the whole, listening to them as they are given to us in their canonical form.

 Exodus 6:3 is the locus classicus for the documentary hypothesis of the Pentateuch. How does your thesis avoid this critical trajectory and affirm the integrity of the text in its literary and canonical context?

A common tendency in the interpretation of Exodus 6:3 is to isolate the statement and interpret it apart from its context in Exodus as a whole.  When this is done, Exodus 6:3 does appear to stand in contradiction to the use of God’s name in Genesis.  However, when 6:3 is understood firmly within the wider literary and canonical context of Exodus, particularly chapters 1—15, a different understanding appears.  Exodus is not simply concerned with the label by which God is called, but what kind of God he is.  And in Exodus, the way God’s character is revealed is through revealing his name.  This is why we see such an emphasis upon Israel, Egypt, and the nations coming to know that “I am the LORD” as they witness the mighty acts that He does on Israel’s behalf, or why the Lord defines His name in terms of his character in that magnificent disclosure of his name in Exodus 34:6-7.  In the end, to know the Lord’s name is to acknowledge that He is supreme, and the redeemer of His people.  But if the verse is interpreted apart from Exodus’ clear mission that the Lord be known for who He is, then, yes, there is a problem.  As is true more broadly, the crux of the matter here is deciding upon context in interpretation.

 Could you tease out the differences in theological perspective between how Genesis and Exodus present the Lord who “makes his name known”?

The manner in which the Lord makes Himself known appears to undergo a shift from Genesis to Exodus, perhaps not in kind, but certainly in degree.  In Genesis, the Lord receives worship, yet nowhere in Genesis does the Lord explicitly demand exclusive worship, as he does in Exodus (e.g. in the Decalogue) nor is the Lord explicitly compared to other gods as is the case in Exodus, where a polemic against other gods and authorities is introduced.  For instance, the plagues are intentionally designed to reveal the Lord as supreme not only over Pharaoh, and but over all creation, and in so doing to expose all else, including other gods, as inferior.  Furthermore, Exodus reveals the Lord as redeemer in a deeper and more extensive way than in Genesis.  Knowing the Lord as such is basic to the Lord’s mission to be known as God, and therefore worthy of the allegiance of Israel and the world.

 What is the Lord’s purpose for the series of episodes in the wilderness between the Red Sea and Mt. Sinai?

The Lord called Israel to reflect His character among the nations by keeping His law.  For Israel to do that, they must trust the Lord.  If you think about it, unless one is forced, a person won’t follow someone unless he believes that person is both willing and able to do him good.  Trust is essential.  The wilderness in effect puts Israel into a position where she must ask, “do we trust the Lord?”  There is no water—will the Lord provide?  How will we eat in the wilderness?  Will we be destroyed by the Amalekites?  This is not unusual, for the Lord puts his people into places of testing, that they might learn of Him.  We see this in the lives of Abraham, Moses, and even Jesus, who learned obedience through what he suffered.  In the wilderness, the Lord is training his people unto trust, and obedience.

 What is the relationship between Israel’s role as “priest to the nations” and their obligations to obey the Law given at Sinai?

In the OT, the priest represented God to the people.  On this analogy, Israel as a priestly kingdom was intended to represent God to the nations.  The way that Israel would faithfully represent God to the nations was through keeping the law.  The law, by its very nature, reveals the character of God—showing what God loves, what He hates, and what is important to Him.  The role of Israel, then, was to live in such a way that the nations saw that Israel was different, and cause them to ask, in effect, “who are you, and who is your God?”

 The eye easily glazes over when reading through chapter after chapter of tabernacle construction in Ex. 25-31 and then again in ch. 35-40. When we snap out of it, we naturally ask, “why is God so anal about this? Couldn’t he have used the space for other things?” How would you advise?

This “problem,” while real (I have experienced it myself), is not unique to the tabernacle chapters.  Much of Leviticus and Numbers, for example, contains ritual law, and the details can feel cumbersome.  Two words of encouragement.  First, when reading the tabernacle chapters, set aside time to study them (a quick read through these sections probably won’t yield much).  Proverbs 2:2:4-5 says, concerning wisdom, “if you seek it like silver and search for it as for hidden treasures, then you will understand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of God.”  The Scriptures, especially these sections, are a lot like that—one has to search diligently to discover what God is revealing there.  The treasure is hard won, but worth it.  Approaching those chapters with that expectation helps a lot.  Secondly, find a guide.  I find that some of the Jewish commentators (e.g. Benno Jacob, Manahem Haran, Umberto Cassuto) are particularly useful, although you’ll have to make connections to Christ yourself (which is generally not difficult).  I would also recommend Greg Beale’s The Temple and the Mission of the Church (IVP Academic, 2004).  Don’t rely on helps at the expense of studying the text directly, but do use them.  Patience is important.

 Ex. 32-34 certainly appear to be “pivotal” chapters. What role do they play structure of the book of Exodus?

Exodus 32—34 are a proving ground for the Lord’s commitment to be known as God throughout the earth.  Up to that point, the Lord had been forming Israel as a people who would make His name known to the world by living faithfully as God’s special people.  What will happen to God’s purposes to be known through Israel when Israel forsakes her calling as she forsakes her God?  The way the Lord handles Israel in response to her idolatry demonstrates that He does what He does so that He will be known for who He throughout the world.  Exodus 32—34 shows the Lord responding in both mercy and judgment for the sake of His glory, in a manner that looks ahead, both implicitly and explicitly, to the cross.

 In what way does the series of petitions by Moses in Ex. 32-33 corroborate your thesis that God’s principle goal in the Exodus is to “make his name known”?

Examining how Moses prays is highly instructive.  Where Moses grounds his request to spare Israel in God’s intention to make Himself known to the nations for who He is, the Lord answers his petitions.  Where he does not, his prayers apparently go unanswered.  In short, to destroy Israel would undermine the Lord’s reputation in the eyes of the nations, as well as both the promise and purpose that the Lord would be known through Israel, His priestly kingdom.  Ezekiel 20:13-14 reflects back on the reason the Lord spared Israel in a manner entirely consistent with 32—34: “But the house of Israel rebelled against me in the wilderness. They did not walk in my statutes but rejected my rules, by which, if a person does them, he shall live; and my Sabbaths they greatly profaned. Then I said I would pour out my wrath upon them in the wilderness, to make a full end of them.  But I acted for the sake of my name, that it should not be profaned in the sight of the nations, in whose sight I had brought them out.”

How might the New Testament church learn from its Old Testament roots what it means to be on mission?

I’ll mention two.  I think the most important insight is that mission comes from the life of a people who love God and love one another.  This is, of course, not only an OT matter.  Jesus, for example, picks up on exactly this when he speaks to his disciples as the light of the world, who are to let their light shine so that others can glorify God, or when he commands the disciples to love one another, so that the world would know that the Father sent Him.  Love within the Christian community, and flowing from it, is in itself missional.  I love the manner in which the introduction to 1 John articulates mission—the invitation is to the community, fellowship shared with the Father and the Son.  We live in a world where the communication of information is easier and easier.  And, while I am thankful for the opportunities that ease of communication presents, it bears remembering that we are part of a community, not simply bearers of propositional truths, and the mission of the church is to bear this truth from a community that is unlike any the world knows.  Truly the church is a peculiar people.

On another note, I would add that the OT roots of mission ought to have the effect of causing Gentile Christians to remember that we are recipients of missionary grace, that “in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ” (Ephesians 2:13).  This deeply humbling truth seems to me to be particularly important in the manner in which we bear witness to Christ among Jewish people.

W. Ross Blackburn (Ph.D., University of St. Andrews) serves as the rector of Christ the King, an Anglican Fellowship in Boone, North Carolina, and teaches biblical studies at Appalachian State University.