Tag: Monotheism

The Code of Hammurabi and the Law of Moses: A Selected Comparative Look

On By Jovan PayesIn Ancient History, Ancient Near Eastern Texts, ANE, College Papers, Exodus, Mesopotamia, Mesopotamia, Old Testament Background, Women Studies

[Note: This was a comparative historical paper for a history course exploring ancient societies. It forced me to examine ancient literature–even the Bible–as a historical source. ]

If one were to think of the most significant influences in lawmaking one who be hard-pressed to consider two greater and oldest than that the Code of Hammurabi and the Law of Moses. Even today, hanging above the gallery doors of the House Chamber in Washington, D.C., are twenty-three marble relief portraits of all those whose works have influenced the establishment of the principles of American law.

Among them are King Hammurabi and the prophet Moses (“About Relief Portrait” in SNT 36). Hammurabi’s Law ( or “Code”) is available today due to a monument relief and extant manuscript evidence (Roth 336). The Law of Moses has been preserved in the biblical manuscripts used for both the Hebrew and Christian Bibles.

In this paper, I focus on four touching points between the “Code of Hammurabi” (Roth) and the Law of Moses (Exod 19:3–24:8) by examining their similarities and suggesting some differences. These touching points are their sources of authority and their significance, the relationship between Moses and his people with the relationship between Hammurabi and his people, the position(s) of women in both societies as revealed by the laws, and what both sources of the law reveal about their two societies.

While this is not an exhaustive evaluation, it is an attempt to understand from these literary sources insights helpful toward a historical understanding of ancient Mesopotamia and ancient Israel. The most fundamental conclusion from this comparison and contrast may be that despite the similar concerns for establishing order in their respective societies, the differences demonstrate the unique trajectories of each society’s beliefs, expectations, and social concerns.

Sources of Authority

The first touching point is their source(s) of authority and their significance. There are points of comparison between the Code of Hammurabi and the Law of Moses when it comes to their sources of authority; however, there are significant contrasts that highlight the unique trajectory of each set of laws.

On the one hand, the preamble of the Code of Hammurabi and the beginning chapters leading to the specific Laws of Moses share a similar concern with establishing the view that each law has a divine source. Lockard points to a black basalt stone in the temple of Marduk (Babylon’s patron god) which pictures Hammurabi “receiving” kingship from Shamash (sun-god and lawgiver), and this provides the divine authority for the king to enforce his code of 282 laws upon his people (SNT 37). The preamble of the Code of Hammurabi likewise enlists this motif of the kings being “called” by name to bring justice and protection for the weak a reality. The laws of Moses, very similarly, presume the call of Moses for the Hebrews to be a “treasured possession” of the “Lord God” as a “kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exod 19:5–6).

The very connection between man and the divine realm supports the shared worldview of theism and the order and accountability that follows from that view. Accordingly, then, such a relationship would make Hammurabi and Moses mediators of such divinely given laws rather than their chief architects.

On the other hand, the divine sources of authority are significantly distinct in their presumption of polytheism and monotheism. The first words in the “Code of Hammurabi” are, “When the exalted Anum king of the Annunaki.” Anum is the “sky god of the old Babylonian pantheon” of which the Annunaki were the “lesser Babylonian gods of heaven who served Enlil.” This demonstrates the full placement of the polytheistic belief system of Hammurabi and the Babylonian world (Roth 335). For example, Roth’s translation reads, 

“When the august god Anu, king of the Anunnaku deities” (335).

The preamble affirms that both gods Anum and Enlil gave all power to the god Marduk (son of Ea) and elevated him above the “Igigu deities.” It is this pantheon, as it were, of Babylonian and Mesopotamian gods that form the authoritative source for the call of Hammurabi as mediator of his law. The inclusion of these unifying acts in the heavens would create a significant plea for unity under this law on earth.

Yet, Moses and the laws in the Exodus record are based on a monotheistic view and this is significant since it ties in with their heritage. The Hebrews are believed to be descendants of a man named Abraham who departed from the Mesopotamian city of Ur (Gen. 12–13) and abandoned polytheism and idolatry. The Laws of Moses reaffirm this belief system, for example, in Exodus:

“You shall have no other gods besides me” (20:3 NJPS)

“With Me, therefore, you shall not make any gods of silver, nor shall you make for yourselves any gods of gold” (20:23 NJPS).

The monotheistic tone set at the beginning and throughout connects the Hebrews to their heritage, the sense that the God of Abraham has overthrown the gods of Egypt, and will be their only “LORD God” even in the future in polytheistic lands (Exod 23:23–24 ESV). This law will be their guide and source of unity in such conflicting environments.

Relationship with the Governed

The second touching point is the relationship between Moses and his people with the relationship between Hammurabi and his people. On the one hand, Moses is described as a servant rather than a prince. Moses dialogues with the “LORD God,” and then is said to communicate the conclusion of that dialogue to the people. As briefly noted above, Moses was called by the Lord God; however, the Exodus narrative describes Moses as one who does not always have the trust of the people. Nevertheless, it is the exodus (mass migration) out of Egypt and the procession toward the mountain of the “LORD God” that establishes the relationship for which he is known most, the servant of the “Lord God,” mediator, and law-giver (Exod. 19; 20:19-21). It is through Moses that the Hebrews agree in the community to the Laws of the Lord (Exod. 24:3). Moses does not appear as an architect or prince, but as the mediator chosen by the people and by the Lord God.

On the other hand, Hammurabi’s relationship with his empire is distinct. He comes to the throne, according to Roth, as a descendant of Sumu-abum (c. 1894-1881 B.C.E.) and consequently has an established relationship with the Mesopotamian empire (Roth 335). It is clear from the Code of Hammurabi that the king was involved in the development of the laws:

When the god Marduk commanded me to provide just ways for the people of the land (in order to attain) appropriate behavior, I established truth and justice as the declaration of the land, I enhanced the well-being of the people. (Roth 337)

Lockard describes the significant career of the king as one who stabilized, maintained, and expanded his kingdom. Consequently, Hammurabi’s relationship was far more formal than that of Moses with the Hebrews.

The Status of Women

The third touching point is the position(s) of women in both societies as revealed by the laws. On the one hand, information in the “Code of Hammurabi” demonstrates a considerable need to regulate the treatment and care of women facing a variety of injustices. Lockard holds a similar view (SNT 36). Following Roth’s and Harper’s sectioning of the Laws, sections §131-136 demonstrate considerable regulations on how to treat an accusation of adultery. 

§131 If her husband accuses his own wife (of adultery), although she has not been seized lying with another male, she shall swear (to her innocence by) an oath by the god, and return to her house.
§132 If a man’s wife should have a finger pointed against her in accusation involving another male, although she has not been seized lying with another male, she shall submit to the divine River Ordeal for her husband.
§133a If a man should be captured and there are sufficient provisions in his house, his wife […, she will not] enter [another’s house].
§133b If that woman does not keep herself chaste but enters another’s house, they shall charge and convict that woman and cast her into the water.
§134 If a man should be captured and there are not sufficient provisions in his house, his wife may enter another’s house; that woman will not be subject to any penalty.
§135 If a man should be captured and there are not sufficient provisions in his house, before his return his wife enters another’s house and bears children, and afterwards her husband returns and gets back to his city, that woman shall return to her first husband; the children shall inherit from their father.
§136 If a man deserts his city and flees, and after his departure his wife enters another’s house — if that man then should return and seize his wife, because he repudiated his city and fled, the wife of the deserter will not return to her husband. (Roth COS 343)

Apparently, there was such considerable mistreatment that legislation was provided to give the local judges the necessary guidelines to protect mistreated women and children.

Some of the more intriguing laws that deal with the protection of women are in the cases of abandonment and mistreatment (section 138-141). 

§138 If a man intends to divorce his first-ranking wife who did not bear him children, he shall give her silver as much as was her bridewealth and restore to her the dowry that she brought from her father’s house, and he shall divorce her. 
§139 If there is no bridewealth, he shall give her 60 shekels of silver as a divorce settlement.
§140 If he is a commoner, he shall give her 20 shekels of silver.
§141 If the wife of a man who is residing in the man’s house should decide to leave, and she appropriates goods, squanders her household possessions, or disparages her husband, they shall charge and convict her; and if her husband should declare his intention to divorce her, then he shall divorce her; neither her travel expenses, nor her divorce settlement, nor anything else shall be given to her. If her husband should declare his intention to not divorce her, then her husband may marry another woman and that (first) woman shall reside in her husband’s house as a slave woman. (Roth COS 343)

It is not that every law was written in the women’s favor because there appears evidence that a woman’s marital conduct can be actionable if abusive to her husband, but they implicitly suggest that these laws were needed in Hammurabi’s empire. Yet, this is only based on literary evidence. Nevertheless, it implies there was a negative treatment of women, so much so that it required legislation.

On the other hand, in Exodus 21:1–23:33 there are several sections addressing varying roles women were found in. Apparently, some fathers sold their daughters as slaves (21:7) but her potential manumission was legislated, as was legitimate marriage to the family’s son (21:7–11).

7 “When a man sells his daughter as a slave, she shall not go out as the male slaves do. 

8 If she does not please her master, who has designated her for himself, then he shall let her be redeemed. He shall have no right to sell her to a foreign people, since he has broken faith with her. 9 If he designates her for his son, he shall deal with her as with a daughter. 10 If he takes another wife to himself, he shall not diminish her food, her clothing, or her marital rights. 11 And if he does not do these three things for her, she shall go out for nothing, without payment of money. (ESV)

There were also retributive laws of justice if a pregnant woman was hurt or killed (21:22–32). 

22 “When men strive together and hit a pregnant woman, so that her children come out, but there is no harm, the one who hit her shall surely be fined, as the woman’s husband shall impose on him, and he shall pay as the judges determine. 23 But if there is harm, then you shall pay life for life, 24 eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, 25 burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.26 “When a man strikes the eye of his slave, male or female, and destroys it, he shall let the slave go free because of his eye. 27 If he knocks out the tooth of his slave, male or female, he shall let the slave go free because of his tooth. 28 “When an ox gores a man or a woman to death, the ox shall be stoned, and its flesh shall not be eaten, but the owner of the ox shall not be liable. 29 But if the ox has been accustomed to gore in the past, and its owner has been warned but has not kept it in, and it kills a man or a woman, the ox shall be stoned, and its owner also shall be put to death. 30 If a ransom is imposed on him, then he shall give for the redemption of his life whatever is imposed on him. 31 If it gores a man’s son or daughter, he shall be dealt with according to this same rule. 32 If the ox gores a slave, male or female, the owner shall give to their master thirty shekels of silver, and the ox shall be stoned. (ESV)

Even in the case of consensual premarital sex, the Law legislated that the male “give the bride-price” for her to legitimize the marriage (22:16–17; NJPS 22:15–16). Sociological morés of promiscuity would have rendered the woman vulnerable to social scandal and familial shame. 

16 “If a man seduces [or, entices] a virgin who is not betrothed and lies with her, he shall give the bride-price for her and make her his wife. 17 If her father utterly refuses to give her to him, he shall pay money equal to the bride-price for virgins. (ESV)

Widows were to be cared for and never mistreated, and if so the perpetrators would receive the sword so their wives would become widows (22:22–24; NJPS 22:21–23). The language carries a passionate emphasis:

22 You shall not mistreat any widow or fatherless child. 23 If you do mistreat them, and they cry out to me, I will surely hear their cry, 24 and my wrath will burn, and I will kill you with the sword, and your wives shall become widows and your children fatherless. (ESV)

Related to the issue of adultery, there was a clear prohibition against such practices in the Law: “You shall not commit adultery” (Exod 20:14). In contrast to the wide practice of polygamy (but not polyandry) in ancient societies of the Near East, the LORD God established monogamy as the mandated ideal of marriage (Gen 2:24). Consequently, adultery was viewed as a social wrong and a violation against God’s order. There was a concession for divorce and remarriage found in the teachings of Moses (Deut 24:1–4), but it is very restrictive.

Overall, such legislation in Israel was required because there were problems with the mistreatment of widows and slave girls, and also the abuse of rejection or abandonment of women after premarital sex.

If one is careful to read between the lines, Hammurabi and the Exodus Laws seek correctives on matters of injustice and oppression. These may not meet the modern social expectations regarding what are protective laws for women, but it should be noted different social norms and morés are being addressed in the ancient world than those of today.

Impact on the Society

The fourth observation focuses on what both sources of law reveal about these two societies. The earlier society of Hammurabi appears to have considerable social unrest and a sense of injustice in the air. The sorts of laws are of such a micromanagement level that they reflect a tremendous amount of abuse in society at large. The laws do cover more than just social matters, but it cannot be ignored that Hammurabi’s Code was, as he affirms, to: 

“make justice to appear in the land, to destroy evil and the wicked that the strong might not oppress the weak.”

This law reveals that retribution towards evil, the wicked, and oppression was not only viewed as a social necessity but was also a divine ruling. The gods will hold the mortals accountable for their mistreatment of others.

Likewise, in the emerging society of the Hebrews, it was expected that all previous and current expectations of justice and injustice must now be reevaluated from the perspective of the moral and religious expectation of the “LORD God.” One of the premises of the Exodus Law is their liberation from Egyptian slavery and its moral application to how a neighbor treats their neighbor. The case law nature of the Mosaic Law demonstrates this transition, especially in the Ten Commandments proper (Exod 20:1–17). The good standing in the Hebrew community was based upon how one interacted with their neighbor; consequently, it may be inferred from the law section of Exodus that Hebrew society needed much legislation to correct their conduct toward their neighbor: “…you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord (Leviticus 19:18 ESV).

Observations

Initially, it may be said that despite the similar concerns for establishing order in their respective societies, the Code of Hammurabi and the Law of Moses demonstrate the unique trajectories of each society’s beliefs, expectations, and social concerns.

This is seen in the following four areas as evaluated above. First, despite sharing a concern with connecting their source(s) of authority with the divine realm (i.e., the gods/God), and thus, making Moses and Hammurabi mediators of a law that centers on moral accountability and justice, they are markedly distinct in their theism.

Second, despite there being a common motif of mediation between the gods/God and the people they led, Moses and Hammurabi held distinct relationships with their people. Moses rose to leadership and was summoned to lead by the people; whereas, Hammurabi ascended to the thorn and had an established and formal regnal relationship with his empire.

Third, although the Hammurabi handout had selected sections on what is available shows that when compared to Exodus Laws, both were concerned with correcting and abolishing, through retributive legislation, the abuse of women in their communities in areas of sexuality, honor, abandonment, and humiliation.

Finally, both sources of law reveal that human societies always deal with matters of injustice and oppression, and these tend to be focused on the mistreatment of vulnerable women and widows. The consequences of such laws demonstrate the rough and violent nature of society and its expectations.

Bibliography

(ESV) English Standard Version of The Holy Bible. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2001.

Harper, Robert Francis. The Code of Hammurabi King of Babylon About 2250. 2nd edition. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago, 1904.

(NJPS) TANAKH: The Holy Scriptures, A New Translation of the Holy Scriptures According to the Traditional Hebrew Text. Philadelphia, PA: Jerusalem Publication Society, 1985.

(SNT) Lockard, Craig A. Societies, Networks, and Transitions: A Global History. Volume I: To 1500. 3rd edition. Stamford, CT: Cengage Learning, 2015.

(COS) Roth, Martha. “The Laws of Hammurabi.” In volume 3 of The Context of Scripture: Archival Documents from the Biblical World. Edited by William W. Hallo and K. Lawson Younger, Jr. New York: Brill, 2002.

The Humanity of Jesus the Son

On By Jovan PayesIn Christology, Graduate Work, Hope International University, Jesus Studies, Patristics, Theology

The phrases Jesus Christ, the Christ of faith, the Jesus of history, and Jesus the Divine Son all reflect significant themes pertaining to the central figure of the New Testament, Jesus of Nazareth. These concepts fall within a specialized area of theology known as Christology, which is a systematic “study of Christ” based on the full biblical picture derived from scripture.

A bit more formally, this field of study speaks to the Christian endeavor to map Jesus’ placement within “time and eternity, humanity and divinity, particularity and universality.” It answers how the life of a seemingly benign first-century Jewish rabbi could be so “relevant for all people and all times” (McGrath 2017, 207).

The present discussion maps Jesus’ Son-relationship in the triune unity of God, and the nature of his humanity. It then reflects on how the humanity of Jesus is relevant to the Christian’s personal walk before God.

Jesus the Son and the Trinity

The Trinitarian Formula

The divinity of Jesus is established in many passages of the New Testament. For example, Matthew closes with an appearance of Jesus where he affirms his authority “in heaven and on earth.” With this authority, he commissions his disciples for an international burden, 

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (28:18–19 NRSV). [All Scripture references are from the New Revised Standard Version unless otherwise noted.]

Three themes are clear in this passage: Jesus’ divine authority, discipleship made in baptism, and the trinitarian language of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In the early generations of the church, the above trinitarian formula would represent a highly nuanced concept of monotheism affirmed to be in continuity with the “one God” of the Hebrew Bible.

What forced early Jewish Christians to accept this nuanced view of monotheism? The answer: the character and nature of Jesus did. It is not subversive of the “oneness” of God (Deut 6:4) but depends on the New Testament’s clarification that the “one God” is not a simplistic model. As the clarification argues, the Divine Son is not God the Father, nor is he the Holy Spirit. This raises tough questions that the historical church has discussed in earnest and in conflict for generations.

How do we map this out theologically?

The Divine Son Portrayed

We turn to the presence of Jesus and how He is portrayed in relation to the Father and the Holy Spirit.

In the first century, the prologue to the Fourth Gospel (John 1:1–3, 14) affirms that the person and nature of Jesus is the driving force to reshape the whole biblical landscape of the concept of God (Gen 1:1; Exod 20:11). 

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being... And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John 1:1–3a, 14)

Jesus not only pre-existed as the lógos at the time of creation (John 1:1), but he also “emptied” (ekénōsen) himself to take on the “form [morphē] of a slave”—a human (Phil 2:6–7). Leaning heavily on John 1:14, the Alexandrian theologian, Athanasius, concluded that this “human body” was taken by this same “Word of God” (Placher 2003, 184).

On this view, there was no room within this theology for Arius’ affirmation that Jesus the Son—the Word—was a created being who subsequently became divine. This view reduced Jesus to a creature impotent to redeem humanity (McGrath 2017, 217–19).

The Divine Association

As McGrath (2017, 214) chronicles, the divinity of Christ was one of the first major theological battles of the early church as it sought to hammer out its understanding of the contours of a very genuine human being in Jesus who, at the same time, was portrayed as being more than a mere human. The “battle” was not over the deity of Christ as such (that was established), but how to understand the relationship between his humanity and his divinity.

The divinity of Jesus was therefore accepted as true as his humanity—as affirmed in Chalcedon (AD 451)—which means that the question left to map out was the relationship between Jesus and the Father and the Holy Spirit.

The only way to do this is by evaluating Scripture (Jenson 2003, 194). Despite certain reservations, Jenson argues clearly that Peter’s application of the divine title “Lord” from Joel 2 (kyrios LXX) to Jesus in Acts 2:33–34 (kyrios) demonstrates that

the risen Christ, without violation of God’s singularity, does what only the God of Israel himself does, and that he does this precisely by virtue of his situation with the God of Israel. (2003, 194)

Jensen in Essentials of Christian Theology (2003)

Jensen points out that the emerging notion of association that comes from the word “with” points to the “inescapably observable fact” that the biblical narrative is framed by three divine characters in its drama (2003, 195): the God of Israel, Jesus his Son, and the life-giving Spirit of God.

Agreeing with Jenson (2003, 196), Jesus should not be viewed as a mere successive mode of God’s presence in time (modalism) or as the Father’s subordinate agent with the Spirit in time (subordinationism). Instead, Jesus maintains an eternally mutual and reciprocal relationship with the Father and the Spirit. For this reason, ancient Christians used an analogy inspired by the theater, that is to say, that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit although three in persona (mask) are one in Divine substance. Another model is found in Martin Buber’s I-You relationship model (McGrath 2017,179–80).

Understanding the Humanity of Jesus

What, then, goes into mapping this theological tension of the Son and the Trinity?

Mapping the nature of Jesus’ humanity—in balance with his divinity—requires great caution. The traditional doctrine of the incarnation (literally, “becoming bodily”) affirms both the full humanity of Jesus and his divinity. Any attempt to isolate what is organically interwoven in the person and work of Jesus runs a high risk of distortion.

Overcompensating to account for the humanity of Jesus has typically been met with the “stamp” of heresy. Three, in particular, are Ebionism, Arianism, and Docetism (McGrath 2017, 214–20). 

The roots of Ebionism are Jewish. It framed Jesus through the lenses of a human prophet, as called and anointed by the Holy Spirit. As a low Christology, Jesus is only a “spiritually superior” human. This does not align with the picture of his eternal pre-existence as Creator.

Plotted on another point on the map is Arianism (named after Arius), which called into question the “fully divine” and “fully human” affirmation due to an irreconcilable application of the Greek notion of divine impassability and the doctrine of the incarnation. God cannot be both changeable (fully human) and transcendent (fully divine), therefore, the incarnation strikes at the perfect nature of the one God. Jesus must therefore be a “superior created being” with nothing divine to report. This failed to account for the actual testimony of the gospels where in fact this is possible.

Meanwhile, Docetism affirmed, with its hardline separation of God and the present evil world of matter (due to its gnostic foundation), the divine incarnation of John 1:14 was nothing more than “pretend.” The heresy’s name (or tendency) is derived from the Greek word dokéō (“to seem”) affirming Jesus only “seemed” to have a body in which he suffered and died, making the incarnation “into a fake” (Placher 2003, 183). Scripturally, the work of Christ is dependent on the fully human (Luke 24:38–39) and fully divine Jesus manifested in the death of the cross and resurrection from the dead (Rom 1:3–4).

Similarly, the opening line of 1 John affirms the humanity of the “Word of Life”: “what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands” (1:1).

Likewise, in the second century CE, Ignatius of Antioch (ca. 35–ca. 110) stressed his concern to the Christians of Trallia that they should guard against (“be deaf,” kōphóthēte 9.1) anything which undermines the humanity of Christ with the following words:

Jesus Christ, who was of the family of David, who was the son of Mary; who really was born, who both ate and drank; who really was persecuted under Pontius Pilate, who really was crucified and died while those in heaven and on earth and under the earth look on; who, moreover, really was raised from the dead when his Father raised him up, who—his Father, that is—in the same way will likewise also raise us up in Christ Jesus who believe in him, apart from whom we have no true life. (“To the Trallians” 9.1–2)

Ignatius of Antioch, “To the Trallians” 9.1-2

The example of Ignatius is interesting because it is early and strongly affirms Jesus’ human form, “who really” (hos alethōs) an adverb repeated four times to assert what is true, actual because it corresponds to what is really so (BDAG 44). For Ignatius, Jesus actually was born, ate and drank, persecuted, crucified and died, and raised from the dead. Ignatius saw denying the humanity of Christ as subversive to the soteriological (the saving, redeeming) and eschatological (end times, fulfilling) work of Christ.

What Does This Mean?

What then does it mean for the Christian that God became flesh to redeem us in the person of Jesus Christ? Two extremes must be cautioned against here. One extreme is to moralize the life of Jesus (1 Pet 2:21), and as such reduces Jesus to a mere good teacher. Another extreme is to make Jesus’ life and teaching into a disjointed symbolic presence of God (i.e., Paul Tillich).

The humanity of Jesus provides me with a great deal of assurance as a believer that God knows through Christ the human plight. Jesus has “assumed all” and can, therefore “heal all” of humanity (Placher 2003, 184). When the “name” Immanuel (“God is with us”) is given to Jesus (Matt 1:23) the associated promise is that “he will save his people from their sins (Matt 1:21). God’s presence in the human child to be born provides a personal locus that can be isolated to time, space, and history.

For all humans, it then becomes quite clear that God is joining the human continuum to reconcile not only “us” but also “the world to himself” in Christ (2 Cor 5:18–19). Paul’s application has massive personal repercussions, 

“if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” (5:17)

The humanity of Jesus is not simply a modal expression of God, but God entering into time and space to save, forgive, reconcile, and renew humanity and creation.

It provides the seedbed to take the particular localized Jesus and affirm his enduring value for all humans for all time. As Ignatius wrote, God “will likewise also raise us up in Christ Jesus who believe in him, apart from whom we have no true life” (“To the Trallians” 9.2).

Truly, the humanity of the God-Man Jesus is relevant for the Christian’s personal walk before God because it is the seedbed for all our hopes, especially, hope for the resurrection (1 Cor 15:12–19).

Bibliography

(BDAG) Bauer, Walter, Frederick W. Danker, W. F. Ardnt, and F. W. Gingrich. 2000. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. 3rd edition. Chicago: University of Chicago.

Ignatius. 1999. “The Letters of Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch.” Pages 128–201 in The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations. 2d edition. Edited and revised by Michael W. Holmes. Grand Rapids: Baker Books.

Jenson, Robert W. 2003. “Does Jesus Make a Difference? The Person and Work of Jesus Christ” Pages 191–205 in Essentials of Christian Theology. Edited by William C. Placher. Louisville, Kent: Westminster John Knox.

McGrath, Alister E. 2017. Christian Theology: An Introduction. 6th edition. Maldon, Ma: Wiley Blackwell.

Placher, William C. 2003. “Does Jesus Make a Difference? The Person and Work of Jesus Christ” Pages 183–91 in Essentials of Christian Theology. Edited by William C. Placher. Louisville, Kent: Westminster John Knox.