Aram and Edom, Levitical Ministers, What’s God Want?

1. Benjamin Kedar, “The Latin Translations,” Mikra: Text, Translation, Reading and Interpretation of the Hebrew Bible in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity, ed. Martin Jan Mulder (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2004) 309.

“First one may mention those blunders of the translators that can be explained only from the Hebrew. The [Old Latin] has Edom for Aram (2 Chr 20:2)–correctly rendered ‘Syria’ by the LXX and Vg–due to a confusion of the Hebrew letters Res and Dalet that especially resemble each other.”

In my post, Code-Words, Justin on Eternal Punishment/Immortal Soul, Destabilizing, I referred to scholars who believe that the Syriac Peshitta substitute “Edom” for “Aram” (Syria) to avoid offending the Syrians, in whose midst some Jews lived. That’s a strong possibility. But could it be possible that it did so because, like the Old Latin, it misidentified a Resh as a Daleth? It can happen! A reader may think that he sees a bump behind the Resh, making it a Daleth. Or perhaps the manuscipt he’s using has a Daleth. One problem I have with the deliberate-substitution-to-avoid-offending-the-Syrians view is that the Bible only shows that the Syrians used to be Israel’s enemies, and even that is mixed. Sometimes, the Syrians are the Israelite’s friends, or at least they’re not hostile. Would the Syrians get offended if they heard the Israelites saying that Israel and Syria were enemies at some point?

At the same time, history has implications for the present. How we present certain people in the past can seriously offend people today. So the deliberate-substitution-et al. view still makes some sense.

2. Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church, Volume II: Ante-Nicene Christianity (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1910) 646.

Clement (first-second century C.E.) “represents the Levitical priesthood as a type of the Christian teaching office, and insists with the greatest decision on outward unity, fixed order, and obedience to church rulers.”

Armstrongites have maintained that their ministers are Levites. Sometimes, they used a racial argument, for I’ve heard that Herbert Armstrong claimed actual descent from the tribe of Levi. At other times, they appealed to New Testament authority. When Paul is telling the Corinthian church that he deserves to receive payment from them, he appeals to the priests of the Old Testament: “Do you not know that those who are employed in the temple service get their food from the temple, and those who serve at the altar share in what is sacrificed on the altar?” (I Corinthians 9:13). Some interpret this to mean that Paul equates the ministers of the New Testament with the Levites of the Old.

What’s at stake here? Primarily tithing. The Torah says that the Israelites should give tithes to the priests and the Levites. Sometimes, the whole “ministers are Levites” spiel can degenerate into the absurd. A relative of mine told me a story about a couple that brought fruits and vegetables to the church. The minister demanded that he have the first pick, since he was a Levite and didn’t have an inheritance. My relative thought, “You dummy! Which of us here does have an inheritance?” To their credit, the couple said that the minister could have the first pick, but they weren’t going to bring any more fruits and vegetables to church. And, predictably, the minister told them they had a bad attitude. On well!

Schaff seems to be referring to I Clement 40-41 (in the BibleWorks version). I’m not sure if Clement is equating the ministry with the Levitical priesthood, as much as he’s saying that God established an order. That was the case in the Hebrew Bible, and it’s also the case in the New Testament. For Paul, there may be an analogy between the Old Testament priests and the ministers of the church, but that doesn’t amount to an equation. Paul also likened himself and other ministers to an ox that treads out the corn.

I may read the Catholic Catechism at some point. I wonder if it equates the Old Testament and New Testament priesthoods?

3. H. Loewe, “Introduction,” A Rabbinic Anthology, ed. C.G. Montefiore and H. Loewe (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1938) lxxxii.

“We are not bound by the utterance of every single Rabbi who is mentioned in the Talmud…There is a great difference between the authority which Christians ascribe to the Gospels and that which Jews assign to Rabbinic literature. Nahmanides, in 1263, did not hesitate to proclaim that a Jew was at liberty to reject haggadic interpretations, though, naturally, he allowed to Haggadah great ethical value.”

Ever since I’ve done my daily quiet time outside of the Jewish/Protestant canon, I’ve wondered about the basis for religious authority. Can I get anything out of the Deuterocanonical writings and the Koran, if I don’t believe that God inspired them? Part of me says “yes,” the same way that I get good lessons from Joan of Arcadia and Desperate Housewives, even though they’re not divinely-inspired (as Desperate Housewives‘ mainstreaming of homosexuality demonstrates). But part of me says “no,” since they make clear claims about God, and I’m not sure if I can trust them, if they’re not divinely-inspired.

Maybe I can acknowledge that they testify to their experience. Perhaps, but people can misinterpret their experiences. Plus there’s the question of whom I should believe. Jesus in John 8:24 says those who don’t believe he’s I AM (God) will die in their sins. My impression as I read the Koran is that it consigns Christians who believe in Jesus’ deity to hell (Sura 5:72-73–see Does Islam Believe Jews and Christians Are Saved? and The Anonymous Muslim, as well as the comments). One source says we go to hell for not believing in Jesus’ divinity, and another says the opposite. Which is right? And how do we know?

What is God’s view on how we can please him? There are Old Testament passages that emphasize repentance and doing the right thing. Isaiah 1:16-18 states: “Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow. Come now, let us argue it out, says the LORD: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool” (NRSV). Ezekiel 18:27-28 has, “Again, when the wicked turn away from the wickedness they have committed and do what is lawful and right, they shall save their life. Because they considered and turned away from all the transgressions that they had committed, they shall surely live; they shall not die.” In these passages, the path to atonement is doing good and not evil.

But Paul says that belief in Christ is essential to salvation. He doesn’t even think that a person can do good apart from Christ! “For this reason the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law–indeed it cannot, and those who are in the flesh cannot please God” (Romans 8:7-8). You want to know where hard-core evangelical exclusivists get their idea that good non-believers will go to hell? (Of course, they’d deny that they’re actually “good”). One source is Paul.

Islam, Judaism, and Christianity base their soteriologies on something in Scripture. Islam and Judaism continue the Hebrew Bible’s trajectory that repentance and good deeds lead to atonement, which means non-Christians can be saved. Christians, however, focus on the Hebrew Bible’s claim that God needs to circumcise people’s hearts and actually make them subservient to God’s law (Deuteronomy 30:6; Jeremiah 31:32-33; Ezekiel 11:19-20; 36:24-28). Who is right? I have a hard time thinking, “Oh, I can get something edifying from all of these views.” This is a crucial issue. It relates to whether one spends eternity in heaven or hell (assuming eternal torment)!

What does God want, and how can we know?

Spirit/Flesh, Eastern Sabbath, Judaism and Repair

1. Source: Devorah Dimant, “Qumran Sectarian Literature,” Jewish Writings of the Second Temple Period, ed. Michael E. Stone (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984) 537.

“The flesh is feeble and liable to sin, while the spirit is often that part which is capable of receiving God’s grace (I QH 3:21).”

This sounds a lot like Paul, who treats the flesh as sinful (e.g., Romans 6-8; Galatians 5). The Gnostics basically said the same thing, since they viewed spirit as good, and matter as bad. The Stoics, however, had a different idea, for they located human passions in the soul, as did Plato.

I’m not sure if Paul would say that the human spirit is righteous. As far as he was concerned, only those who believed in Christ had Christ and the Holy Spirit inside of them. It wasn’t universal. So I wouldn’t be surprised if he deemed the spirit in man to be sinful, along with the flesh. He says in I Corinthians 2:4 that the things of God are foolishness to the natural man, and the part of man that interacts with concepts is the spirit.

The Qumran concept reminds me of something I once heard Harold Camping say: when we become born again, our soul is resurrected. I’ve heard this idea in other Christian circles as well. But I’m not sure if it’s in the Bible, which doesn’t focus too much on the body-spirit-soul trichotomy.

2. Source: Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church, Volume II: Ante-Nicene Christianity (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1910) 205.

“The observance of Sabbath among the Jewish Christians gradually ceased. Yet the Eastern church to this day marks the seventh day of the week (excepting only the Easter Sabbath) by omitting fasting, and by standing in prayer; while the Latin church, in direct opposition to Judaism, made Saturday a fast day. The controversy on this point began as early as the end of the second century.”

I’m not sure what Schaff means by “Eastern church.” Does he mean the Eastern Orthodox Church, or the churches of Asia minor, which had such luminaries as Polycarp and Melito of Sardis? The Armstrongites taught that the Eastern Church in Asia Minor kept the Sabbath and the annual holy days, and they were quick to point out that Polycarp was a disciple of John, meaning his doctrine must go back to the apostolic period. Samuele Bacchiocchi somewhat argues the same thing in his landmark book, From Sabbath to Sunday, for he appeals to the Quartodeciman controversy to argue that the Roman church wanted to pull Christianity away from Judaism, whereas the East desired to keep “Easter” on the Jewish Passover.

The Armstrongite depiction of the church fathers is not exactly accurate, for Schaff points out that the easterner Melito of Sardis upheld Sunday observance, as did Ignatius, who was possibly a student of John. So the Eastern Church was not the old WCG in the second century, and there’s a possibility that a student of John supported Sunday!

But perhaps the Eastern Church did honor the Sabbath in some way, shape, or form. The question I have is this: Schaff says that the Eastern Church fasted on the Sabbath before Easter. But didn’t the Eastern Church oppose Easter Sunday, preferring instead to keep the Jewish Passover? That’s how Bacchiocchi presents the Quartodeciman controversy!

3. Jacob Neusner, Judaism’s Story of Creation: Scripture, Halakhah, Aggadah (Boston: Brill, 2000) 18-19.

“In the story of Creation the sages found God’s account of the making of Man, Adam and Eve, ‘in our image, after our likeness.’ According to them the power of will but also the possibility of obedience to God’s own imperative, God precipitated the crisis of the human condition. That freedom exercised, they lost Eden and assumed mortality. That represents the challenge of Eden met at Sinai, imposed upon Israel. It is the recovery of Eden, the conquest of the grave and the recovery of eternal life. In the complex story of Israel, the sages picked out the revelation of the Torah as the critical component. This they read in the context of Eden and its loss through the act of rebellion. God brought Israel into being in his search for the repair of Creation: a corporate community, counterpart to Adam and Eve, rendered capable of entering Eden by the nurture of the will, through commandments and the discipline of a sanctified society.”

I’ve heard and read Jews who claim that the “Fall” of Genesis 3 was not exactly a fall. For them, it was an act of maturity, as Adam and Eve went from being naked in Eden to developing culture and growing amidst adversity.

The way Neusner presents it, however, even the rabbinic Jews saw Genesis 3 as a Fall. Like a lot of Christians, they want to reclaim the immortality and paradise that humans had in Eden. For the sages, the solution is not Jesus Christ, but rather Israel’s obedience of God’s Torah.

I’m not sure how the sages believe Israel’s obedience will repair God’s creation. Does it have to do with the view that Israel keeping the Torah will bring about the Messiah? Or does it relate to the Jewish belief that Israel’s obedience will make her a light to the nations? As Deuteronomy 4:6-7 states: “You must observe them diligently, for this will show your wisdom and discernment to the peoples, who, when they hear all these statutes, will say, ‘Surely this great nation is a wise and discerning people!’ For what other great nation has a god so near to it as the LORD our God is whenever we call to him?” (NRSV).

When I was at Harvard, one of my sessions was discussing whether Judaism had a missionary agenda. One of the Jewish students emphatically said “no,” so the class leader inquired, “Then what is the purpose of Judaism?” He replied, “Well, I guess it’s to do good and to hope that everyone else notices and does likewise.” He thought Judaism lacked a missionary element, but his words indicated otherwise. He wasn’t saying that Judaism actively sought converts, but he did acknowledge that it wanted Israel to influence the world for good.

Can the Torah by itself repair God’s broken creation? I think that the Torah can restrain sin–through punishments, rewards, etc. But the Hebrew Bible is clear that people need a new heart to obey God’s laws (Deuteronomy 30:6; Jeremiah 31:33; Ezekiel 11:19-20; 36:26-27). The law does not make people righteous, if people are inherently corrupt.

In a Jewish Theology class, a professor of mine said that Jews can receive a new heart when they study the Torah. I remember reading a midrash to that effect: when we study Torah, something good comes into us, as something bad and sinful goes out. Is this true? Maybe. It’s not as if the Hebrew Bible places all the responsibility for a new heart on God’s lap, for God often commands Israel to get a new heart, or to circumcise her heart (Deuteronomy 10:16; Ezekiel 18:31). Maybe one way Israelites did so was through study and obedience of the Torah. I don’t know.

At the same time, the very existence of the Torah is evidence of humanity’s fallen condition. We actually need to be told not to kill, since our nature doesn’t always go in that direction. Is the Torah true repair, or is it a band-aid?

Why Wasn’t It Built?

I’ve been reading Ezekiel for my daily quiet time, and I’m on the part about the new temple. In Ezekiel 43:11, God tells Ezekiel to tell the people of Israel the dimensions and features of the proposed temple so that they will build it after their return from exile.

But why didn’t they build it? Here was a command, and they didn’t follow it. Why not?

I’ve not combed through the writings of modern biblical scholars on this issue, but I have a hunch about what they might say. I can picture them saying that Ezekiel was not necessarily seen as the infallible word of God immediately after the exile, at least not in the way that many Christians and Jews have traditionally viewed it. Rather, there were a variety of post-exilic voices with their own versions of what God wanted the Jews to do. Some expected God to restore the Davidic dynasty, while others called Cyrus the Messiah. Over time, their writings became authoritative within Jewish and Christian circles, but they were not necessarily accepted as such soon after they were written. So why didn’t the post-exilic community build Ezekiel’s temple? One proposed explanation is that not everyone believed in Ezekiel’s message.

Another possibility is that the post-exilic community did not see its restoration as the subject of Ezekiel’s prophecy. Ezekiel associated certain events with the Jews’ restoration, such as the renewal of the Davidic dynasty and the defeat of Israel’s enemies, most notably Gog of Asia Minor. These things did not happen under Cyrus of Persia, for Israel was “restored” to become a subjugated puppet of the Persians, without a Davidic monarch. As a result, many Jews probably concluded that the restoration predicted by Ezekiel was not what occurred under Cyrus, but was rather to be fulfilled in the future. So the Ezekiel temple was postponed until the time of real restoration.

Rashi has an interesting explanation of Ezekiel 43:11. He says: “The second aliyah [to the Holy Land] through Ezra was merited to be like the first entry through Joshua, to come about by force and through a miracle, as expounded (Ber. 4a, Exod. 15:16): ‘until… pass.’ This Building would then have been fit for them as of then, when they emerged from exile, to an everlasting redemption. But [their] sin caused [this not to happen] for their repentance was not suitable, [i.e.,] they did not resolve to stop sinning. [Therefore,] they emerged to freedom [only] through the sanction of Cyrus and his son. Some say that in Babylon they stumbled regarding gentile women.” For Rashi, God wanted to restore the Jews of the sixth-fifth centuries B.C.E. in a glorious fashion, which would have included Ezekiel’s temple, but the Jews hindered God’s plan through their sins.

I’m not sure if I buy this explanation entirely. The Jews’ sins were not a problem for God, since Ezekiel predicted that God would give them new hearts and turn them away from sin. At the same time, perhaps God expected them to make the first move through repentance before he circumcised their hearts. But that goes back to my Ezekiel and Monergism series.

God Brings Them to Repentance

The discussion on Ezekiel and TULIP at John Hobbins’ website has transported me back in time.

When I was at Harvard, I was taking an Intro to Hebrew Scriptures class. We had an assignment: to contrast certain passages from Deuteronomy, Second Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel. The passages related to Israel’s restoration from exile, and we were to highlight the different perspectives of the biblical authors.

I was more of a right-winger then than I am now (if you can believe that), and so I resisted the assignment. “These liberals are always looking for discrepancies in the Bible,” I thought. “The passages all say the same thing! God will restore Israel to her land, and Israel will be righteous.”

To be honest, I’ve not totally changed. There are still times when liberals see discrepancies where I see harmony. I also think that some biblical scholars try to pigeon-hole parts of the Bible, when the parts do not always correspond to their representations. How often have we heard “J teaches this” (back when most scholars believed in J), “this is P’s theology,” “the Deuteronomist believes this, unlike that other author,” or “these are John’s themes”? The problem is that the generalizations do not always work. There can be exceptions to the pigeon hole. Of course, I guess the logical course then is to posit that an editor added his own two cents to the text.

Despite my latent conservatism, I acknowledge now that Deuteronomy, Second Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel have their own emphases. Deuteronomy stresses that Israel’s repentance will return her to the Promised Land; there, Israel seems to make the first move. In Second Isaiah, God makes the first move, as the author of Isaiah 40-55 focuses on God’s love for Israel and invites her to respond to God’s saving act. I’m not sure how to characterize Jeremiah: maybe “Your seventy years are up! Get moving! And God will write his laws on your hearts so you don’t lose the Promised Land again.” And Ezekiel has God restoring Judah for the sake of his name, not for her sake. Through her exile and restoration, God makes Israel ashamed of her sins.

Some time in the future, I may discuss how people of faith should approach biblical diversity. Right now, I want to address a point that John Hobbins made in his discussion on Ezekiel and TULIP. He says, “I don’t think Ezekiel construes God’s actions there either as a response to repentance from Israel’s side. The self-loathing and repentance Israel is to engage in, the very fact that they will pass under the shepherd’s staff and be brought into the bond of the covenant, is presented as something God brings about obtorto collo (that’s colorful Latin phrase which means ‘against [their] will’).”

One some level, I agree. Unlike Deuteronomy, Ezekiel does not really present a scenario in which Israel repents and God responds. But I also do not think that Ezekiel has God forcing the Israelites to repent, for he presents Israelites who will rebel even after the exile (Ezekiel 20:33-38). God obviously did not make them repent against their will, in the sense of changing their attitudes by fiat.

But, overall, God did place the Israelites in a situation that was conducive to shame and repentance, in the same way that God may give us an environment (often hostile) that can help us build character and make us receptive to certain virtues. God is the one who creates such a situation, but we have a choice about whether or not to cooperate with him. Some may respond to trials by becoming more faithful and patient. Others may choose bitterness and hatred.

Similarly, in Ezekiel, God places the Israelites in exile and restores them when they do not deserve it. The natural reaction should be shame and gratitude. But not all Israelites react that way. Rebels will often pursue a path that makes no sense. That is their stubbornness at work. And the only thing that God can do then is judge them.

Self-Hatred in Ezekiel

Immediately after my high school graduation, I read John MacArthur’s The Vanishing Conscience. I always found his prose engaging, so I gave the book a shot. In that book, MacArthur argues against pop psychology’s emphasis on self-esteem. To support his position, he cites Ezekiel 20:43: “There you shall remember your ways and all the deeds by which you have polluted yourselves; and you shall loathe yourselves for all the evils that you have committed.” MacArthur states, “In other words, when we truly see what sin is, far from achieving self-esteem, we will despise ourselves” (p. 108).

I’m not going to discuss self-esteem in this post. I will say, however, that MacArthur probably doesn’t want people to be down on themselves for the rest of their lives. He has affirmed that human beings are valuable to God and that Christians can find a sense of worth in Christ’s love. He’s just saying that repentance is necessary for salvation. For him, the modern emphasis on self-esteem runs counter to the doctrine that all have sinned, which is the first principle of the Gospel.

I want to relate Ezekiel 20:43 to my recent discussion on Ezekiel and monergism. This has been a series that has included my last three posts. I am wrestling with such issues as free will and regeneration in the Book of Ezekiel. My conclusion so far is that an unregenerate person can repent and recognize his need for God, but only in a short term sense. After the exile, the Israelites who acknowledge their sinfulness and cry out to God will receive a new heart and enter the holy land. The new heart will permanently incline them to God’s commandments so that they can stay in the land forever. By contrast, those who stubbornly continue their rebellion against God will not enter the Promised Land, for God will destroy them. This is my interpretation of Ezekiel 20:33-38.

God’s judgment on the rebels seems fair. I mean, what kind of people in their right mind would continue to defy God after experiencing what they had? Let’s look at what God has already done when the Israelites are in the wilderness, about to enter the Promised Land (after the exile). God has confirmed the words of his prophets. He has demonstrated that he is God and that the other deities are not. He has shown his power to redeem Israel. He has manifested his continued commitment to his people. The logical reaction to all this is for the Israelites to bang themselves on the head and exclaim, “I’ve been so stupid! Look where my actions have led me.” I think that is partly what Ezekiel means when he says that many Israelites will loathe themselves.

He also means that they will hate their sinful deeds. Some analogies come to mind. There is a scene in the Every Man’s Battle where one of the authors talks about a fight he had with his wife. His wife was making beans, and he deliberately knocked over the pot. After his wife left the room and he came to his senses, he resolved to treat his wife with love and respect from that point on. I think about an alcoholic who gets behind the wheel of a car and kills someone. He was content with his selfishness and alcoholism, until it led to a horrible outcome. After the exile, many Israelites get a good look in the mirror. They recognize what the prophets told them all along: that they have betrayed the God who loves them and have hurt defenseless human beings. They see themselves as the whores and monsters that they are. They loathe themselves. That is the prerequisite for a new beginning.

But not all of the Israelites take this route. And what can God do? Will he let them back into the land so they can make it a moral cesspool once more? If they haven’t responded to him up to that point, is there much hope that they will ever respond to him? As his last resort, God judges them.

Calvinism and Short Term Repentance

Most Calvinists who read my last post are probably shaking their heads in disappointment. I can picture their reaction: “Are you saying that the Israelites could turn to God from their own free will? Don’t you know that the unregenerate cannot turn to God? They do not even seek God (Romans 3:11).”

I’m not going to thoroughly engage the Calvinist position in this post. I’ll save that for another day. I believe that both Calvinists and Arminians have biblical texts that appear to support their positions. That is why their views exist.

But let me say this: Even the Calvinist Jonathan Edwards implied that an unregenerate person can make a short term repentance. Over six years ago, I read Jonathan Edwards’ Religious Affections. His goal in the book was to distinguish the true Christians from the false ones. A religious revival was occurring in his time, and there was a lot of craziness that surrounded it. Jonathan Edwards wanted to define true Christianity to cleanse the revival of the craziness.

Edwards said that an unregenerate person can be afraid of God. An unregenerate person can even repent in a short term sense. But what separates the unregenerate from true Christians is that the latter genuinely love God and his ways. Spiritual things are like honey to their palates. And this love is perpetual. For Edwards, such a love could only come from God, for the human heart does not truly desire the spiritual. The unregenerate may change their ways to avoid disaster (e.g., hell), but they do not really love God.

Last time, I pointed out that there are people in the Bible, such as the people of Nineveh, who make a short term repentance. Well, Calvinism says that those with a truly regenerate heart will persevere in the faith: their repentance will be continuous, not short term. That must mean that the people of Nineveh repented with unregenerate hearts. But their repentance was not lasting. It was probably the best that an unregenerate heart could do.

I think that Ezekiel is saying that God will meet the Israelites where they are. Those who recognize their need for a new heart will receive it. But God will destroy the Israelites who are rebellious, the ones who want absolutely nothing to do with him and his ways. God can at least do something with unregenerate repentance. He cannot work with continual stubbornness.

Help Me, Lord!

Last time, I discussed monergism and synergism in Ezekiel. The issue gets thornier! Stay with me here.

In Ezekiel 20:33-38, there is another detail in Israel’s post-exilic restoration: God will bring the Israelites to the wilderness before he leads them to the Promised Land. The wilderness will be a place of judgment, where God will separate the wheat from the chaff. God will kill the rebels who transgress against him, while he will allow the others to enter the holy land. So there are righteous people and there are wicked people in the wilderness.

Here is the thorny part: God said that he would give the Israelites a new heart after they entered the holy land (Ezekiel 36:24-26). So how are there righteous people in the wilderness, before they have even entered it? Can a person be righteous without a new heart?

We know from the Bible that there is short term repentance. The Israelites repented under Hezekiah and Josiah, but they soon relapsed into their old ways. The people of Nineveh turned to God at the preaching of Jonah, but they became wicked again. That was why Nahum predicted their destruction. But, if a person has a new heart, will his or her repentance be short term? I do not think so. Last time, I said that God will give the Israelites a new heart so that they can dwell in the holy land forever; the implication is that they will obey God forever. A new heart means permanent repentance. But a person with an old heart can perhaps repent in a short term sense.

Another relevant issue: a person with a hard heart can cry out to God. In Isaiah 63:17, the Jews cry out, “Why, O LORD, do you make us stray from your ways and harden our heart, so that we do not fear you? Turn back for the sake of your servants, for the sake of the tribes that are your heritage.” Here, the Jews look at themselves and see sinful hearts. They cry out to God for a new beginning. Their prayer is similar to what David said in Psalm 51:10: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.”

Back to Ezekiel 20:33-38. Here is what I believe will distinguish the Israelites in the wilderness. One the one hand, there will be those who hate God and want nothing to do with his ways. God will destroy them. Other Israelites, however, will loathe their sin and desire a clean heart. On their own, they may not be able to practice righteousness consistently. They are like a recovering alcoholic who gets thirsty whenever he passes a tavern, or a man who resolves not to lust until a pretty woman suddenly walks by him. These Israelites are saying, “Lord, I cannot be righteous on my own. Temptation is out there. My nature is capricious. Paganism is in my system, and yet I see the destruction it has brought. I need your help!” And God helps them. He gives them a new heart.

Who Does the Work?

How does one become born again? How does a sinner become transformed into a new creature who loves God and his law? Does God alone transform him (monergism)? Or is regeneration a cooperative work between God and the human being (synergism)? Does human free will play any role at all in a person coming to God (synergism)? Or is the human will so marred by sin that it cannot turn to God without divine intervention (monergism)? This is the Calvinist/Arminian debate.

Ezekiel has both views. Its monergist passages are Ezekiel 11:19-20 and 36:24-28. There, God says that he will return the Jews to their land after their punishment in exile. After he does so, God will place his spirit within them and give them a new heart, causing them to walk in his statutes. Here, regeneration is a unilateral work of God. The people have a heart of stone that is hardened to God’s ways, so they need a new heart in order to obey God’s commandments.

I think that these passages make the same point as Jeremiah 31:32-33 (the new covenant, where God writes his laws on the Israelites’ hearts): God wants the Israelites to dwell in the Promised Land, since his covenant with Israel is unconditional. At the same time, their doing so is contingent upon their obedience to God. God, after all, is holy and will not dwell with the Israelites in a moral cesspool. God, therefore, makes the Israelites walk in his statutes so that they will dwell in the land. God gets to keep his promise, and the people fulfill the conditions for remaining there. Everyone is happy! So monergism is God’s way of keeping the land promise.

A synergist passage is Ezekiel 18:30-32. There, God emphasizes free will. He tells the Jews to repent so that they will avoid death, since God does not want them to die. God says, “Cast away from you all the transgressions that you have committed against me, and get yourselves a new heart and a new spirit! Why will you die, O house of Israel?” Here, the people themselves acquire the new heart. God does not program them for obedience. Their will is free, and the future is open. If they repent, they will live; if they rebel, they will die. And God wants them to repent and live.

How can one harmonize these passages? An evangelical approach is to maintain that God knew all along about the Israelites’ inability to obey his law. In this scenario, God was trying to show that the law does not give life because people cannot keep it. They need a new heart, which was to become available through Christ. This proposal has merits, but why would God tell the Israelites to do something that was impossible for them? Was his impassioned plea for them to choose life a mere game?

Another possibility is that different rules applied to different times. Before the exile, there was free will. The Israelites could obey God, or they could rebel. But after the exile, God went the programming route. He saw that entrusting his covenant to the Israelites’ free will was not a sure thing. They could obey, but there was always the possibility that they would not. The problem with this proposal is that it presents God as a trial-and-error sort of deity.

Any thoughts?