First, it’s necessary to define the Reformed doctrine of the imputation of the righteousness of Christ.  Here’s how I would define it:

A sinner is justified by God, not because of any merit of his own that might be brought to judgment as righteousness, but only for the sake of the righteousness of Jesus Christ laid to the sinner’s account.  God, as the just judge, when he looks upon a redeemed and believing sinner, sees instead the righteousness of Christ and on that grounds alone justifies.

I think that is a satisfactory definition.  If anyone has anything to add to it, feel free to comment.

So, to our question—or actually, questions, which might have very different answers:

• Does Paul teach this doctrine?
• Does Paul have this doctrine in mind when he uses the word “impute”?

I must answer “yes” to the first question and “no” to the second.  I believe Paul does teach that Christ’s work of righteousness stands in place of our own before God, since we have nothing of our own to offer.  However, I think Paul is talking about something else, something more general when he talks about imputation, especially in Romans 5.  So there is “imputation” in the Reformed sense, and there is “imputation” in the Pauline sense, which I don’t believe are quite the same thing, but nevertheless do not exclude each other.

First the Pauline.  In Romans 5:13 Paul says that sin is not imputed where there is no law.  This cannot be in reference either to the accounting of Adam’s sin to fallen mankind, nor to the accounting of Christ’s righteousness to justified man.  It would render the Reformed doctrine nonsensical if there were an entire stretch of generations to which imputation in the Reformed sense does not apply (to say nothing of its implications for the Gentiles, who, Paul appears to be arguing, are under the same paradigm as those generations between Adam and Moses).  Therefore, it must be the imputation of man’s sin to his own account.  I believe this is also the sense in which Psalm 32:1-2 (quoted in Romans 4:7-8) speaks.

For Paul, imputation is not necessarily a transfer of sin or righteousness from one account to the other.  Rather, imputation is the accounting itself of the thing, regardless of where it originally came from.  If your sin is imputed to you, then God holds you especially accountable for what you’ve done.  You are counted as a transgressor.  This is what Paul means when he says that sin is not imputed where there is no law.  Yes, sin persisted during this period, and was strong enough to maintain the associated reign of death.  But sin was not imputed because there was no transgression of stated commandments.¹

In Romans 5:20, the law comes in through Moses so that transgression and resulting guilt might be increased.  That is, with the coming of the law, sin is then imputed, thereby making the sinner accountable under the law.  This is the same situation as the Gentile who was once perishing apart from the law and then learns of the law as a God-fearer (which is, by the way, what I believe Romans 7 is describing).

Similarly, when Paul says in Romans 4:3 that “Abraham believed God and it was imputed to him as righteousness,” we must not insist that “it” refers to the alien righteousness of Christ transferred to Abraham’s account, for the idea is nowhere found in the context.  Rather the picture we get is as if Abraham had faith (given by God through the work of the Spirit) and in lieu of any deeds by which he might otherwise be declared righteous—indeed, Paul points out, before the law of circumcision had even been given that he might keep it—God says, “I’ll take that; consider yourself justified.”

By the means of  faith then, Abraham apprehended God’s promises to him and to his seed, just as we receive the promises of God through a true and living faith in Jesus.  As with Abraham, this faith itself is credited to us by God as righteousness, apart from any works of the law.  This is what I believe Paul is talking about when he talks about imputation.

So what about imputation in the Reformed doctrinal sense?  Does Paul teach that we are justified on the grounds of Christ’s righteousness alone?  He certainly does.  God’s declaration of righteousness on us is a free gift that was attained by Christ’s work alone.

And the free gift is not like the result of that one man’s sin. For the judgment following one trespass brought condemnation, but the free gift following many trespasses brought justification. For if, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ.  Therefore, as one trespass led to condemnation for all men, so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all men.
Romans 5:16-18

Here we see Christ’s “act of righteousness” is what leads to our justification.  In a Reformed theological sense, we might say that it is imputed to us.  As a side, I must insist that Romans 5:18 is speaking of a single act that attains justification, otherwise it destroys the parallel to Adam’s one trespass.  It is one act of righteousness that makes the whole thing possible.  Imputation of Christ’s life-work not explicitly found here.

What was this single righteous act?  Paul has already told us in Romans 5:8-9.

. . . but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God.

We are justified by Christ’s blood.  This does not necessarily obliterate the idea of the imputation of Christ’s active obedience, but I would say Paul makes no such distinction.  Justification is more organic than taking a log entry from one roll and arbitrarily transferring it to another in order to settle the books.  The key is that we are placed “in Christ.”  For Romans 4-7 is Paul’s entire argument to bring us to one conclusion:

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.
Romans 8:1

This is the grounds for our justification.  For if we are in Christ, then all that he is has become ours.  That is our imputation.  When we by faith receive Christ, God regards all that is Christ’s as ours, for we are in him.  How are we placed in him?  Romans 6 gives us this answer: by baptism, and all that it represents.

Whether Romans 6 is speaking of water baptism, or only of “spirit baptism,” or both, is a topic for another discussion, but whichever it is speaking of, this baptism is the means by which we are placed in Christ, by which we receive his righteousness to our account, and are therefore judged righteous before God.

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.  For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. For the death he died he died to sin, once for all, but the life he lives he lives to God. So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.
Romans 6:3-11

Does this render the Reformed doctrine of imputation “redundant” with union with Christ?  Not at all.  Rather, with this understanding, imputation and forensic justification are the inevitable result of our vital union with Christ and his covenant headship.  That is, union and imputation are related but distinct concepts.

It was Jonathan Edwards who said:

“The atonement worked by Jesus’ life and death is achieved by such a community of him and us that if the Father loves the Son, he must love us also.” ²

We might take this thought and apply it just as legitimately to forensic justification.  If we are found “in Christ,” as Paul says, then because of that union, if the Father regards the Son as righteous, then He must justify us also.

. . . for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.
Galatians 3:26-27

If we are united to Christ his righteousness must appear on our account because his account and ours are the same account.

So does Paul teach the Reformed doctrine of imputation?  Yes.  He just doesn’t call it that.

So when the Reformers read Galatians and how a man is justified through faith in Jesus Christ, rather than by “works of the law,” this naturally seemed to be speaking directly to the abuses of the church in their day.  Is it a legitimate application of Galatians?  Certainly!  Paul’s epistle does indeed condemn any doctrine that would claim grounds for justification other than faith in Jesus Christ.

But another question is this: was that the situation of Paul’s day?  Was Paul dealing with 1st century Jews who were attempting to earn (merit) their way to heaven through good works?  I think not.  Reading Paul with the assumption that he was dealing with the same abuses in his day as the Reformers were in the 15th century led Luther and others, and still leads many, to stumble over other passages, such as the book of James.

Some recent discoveries in the last century shed new light on the 1st century Jewish situation and their general attitude toward the Law and justification.  The one I want to focus on here is a Jewish hymn from the “Community Rule” scroll (1QS11) found at Qumran in 1949.  This was one of the first discoveries of the so-called Dead Sea Scrolls.

First some background.  The Qumran community is thought by most to have been a community of Essene Jews.  Of all the Jewish sects, the Essenes were the most conservative.  They separated themselves from the rest of the world in order to remain pure, they abstained from sexual relations, they kept strict community rules that even the Pharisees would have balked at, they had complex systems of ritual purification, and they did not recognize the Hellenized Temple cult because they considered it corrupt.

They were the strictest of the strict in the 1st century Jewish world and had harsh penalties for violations.  If anyone would espouse a doctrine of justification by works, it would be them.²  So if we read their writings, we would expect to get merit x10.  Earn your way straight into the Kingdom (or else)!

Instead, in one marvelous example of 1st century Jewish hymnody, we get this:

As for me,
my justification is with God.
in His hand are the perfection of my way
and the uprightness of my heart.
He will wipe out my transgression
through his righteousness.

For my light has sprung
from the source of His knowledge;
my eyes have beheld his marvelous deeds,
and the light of my heart, the mystery to come.
He that is everlasting
is the support of my right hand;
the way of my steps is over stout rock
which nothing shall shake;
for the rock of my steps is the truth of God
and His might is the support of my right hand.

From the source of his righteousness
is my justification,
and from His marvellous mysteries
is the light in my heart.
. . .

My iniquities, rebellions, and sins,
together with the perversity of my heart,
belong to the company of worms
and to those who walk in darkness.
For mankind has no way,
and man is unable to establish his steps
since justification is with God
and perfection of way is out of His hand.
All things come to pass by His knowledge;
He establishes all things by His design
and without Him nothing is done.

As for me,
if I stumble, the mercies of God
shall be my eternal salvation.
If I stagger because of the sin of flesh,
my justification shall be
by the righteousness of God which endures forever.
When my distress is unleashed
He will deliver my soul from the Pit
and will direct my steps to the way.
He will draw me near by His grace,
and my His mercy will He bring my justification.
. . .

Blessed art Thou my God,
who openest the heart of Thy servant to knowledge!
Establish all his deeds in righteousness;
and as it pleases Thee to do for the elect of mankind,
grant that the son of They handmaid
may stand before Thee forever.
For without Thee no way is perfect,
and without Thy will nothing is done.

When I first read this years ago, it was a real eye opener.  Wow, where did that come from?  This does not look like the picture of Judaism that Luther and so many others painted. This hymn could almost have been written or sung by the apostle Paul.  Writings like this should make us think again about how we view the 1st century Jews.

And in all fairness, it isn’t the fault of Luther and the Reformers that they did not have a better understanding of 1st century Judaism.  They didn’t have the benefit of discoveries like the Dead Sea Scrolls.  And many of the Jews in the time of the Reformation, in a post-Temple existence did in fact hold to a merit-based view of the kingdom.³

And I think therein lies the key.  There is a marked difference between the pre and post-Temple Jewish existence, and so we should read phrases like “works of the law” with this in mind.  I am not saying that we should force an extra-biblical view onto the biblical text.  Rather, we must hear the biblical text with 1st century ears.

What would a man who wrote or sang the hymn of 1QS11 have said is necessary for justification?  Would he say that one needed to do enough good works to earn or merit salvation?  Certainly not!  The text of the hymn is clear.  It’s almost proto-Pauline in its view of man’s basic relationship to God.  Man is totally unable to establish his way, and he “belongs to the company of worms.”  Salvation is of God’s mercy alone.  Only God is able to justify, and the grounds for man’s justification is God’s own righteousness!  So to the 1st century Jews, the idea that one could not earn salvation was by no means a new idea, nor one with which they really would have had any disagreement.

On the other hand, would the writer of this hymn have said that the “works of the law” were necessary for justification?  If he were an Essene, or anything close to it, I think he would have.  And this is what Paul takes issue with.  Even as the Jew sings of justification coming from God, he assumes one thing: in order to attain to the the glorious state that the hymn expresses, you must be Jewish.  And to be a Jew, you obviously must be of the circumcision, which is the first basic “work of the law.”

This is clear from the context of the hymn.  The rest of the “Community Rule” scroll is filled with condemnations against apostates (the Sadducees and Pharisees of Jesus’ day) and reveals the stifling sectarian exclusivity of the community, which they considered to be the only pure assembly.  Is that in conflict with the hymn itself?  A Qumran sectarian would not have thought so (though we certainly would, reading through the lens of Paul).  Jewishness was basic to them, not because of some ethnic megalomania, but because it was the Jews who were under the blood of sacrifice.  Even the Qumran sect, while rejecting the Hellenized Temple cult, looked forward to the coming of “The Righteous One” who would purge and purify the Temple.  To Israel belonged the Temple and the sacrifices to atone for sin, or so they thought.  And that was why they believed they could claim that God justified them apart from their own righteousness and yet at the same time require that Gentiles become Jewish (come “under the law”) in order to enter the Kingdom.  Because in their mind, the sacrifices applied to those of the circumcision.

This is where Paul interjects.  No, he says, you do not have to be Jew!  With the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus Christ, who was prefigured by the Old Covenant sacrifices, the shadows are passing away.  The realization of all that was promised has come.  The circumcision is not the line that separates the justified from the unrighteous, and it never really was.  Rather, it is and always has been faith in Jesus Christ.  The blood of Jesus’ sacrifice applies not only to those of the circumcision, but rather to all who believe in Christ and confess Him.

There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.
Galatians 3:28

Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.
Colossians 3:11

For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; for the same Lord is Lord of all, bestowing his riches on all who call on him. For “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”
Romans 10:12-13

So were the Reformers wrong?  What does this say about our traditional application of Paul against merited salvation and works-righteousness?  Is it still valid?  I think it is.  Paul’s insistence on faith in Jesus Christ as the instrument of justification does indeed by necessity exclude a meritorious role for our righteousness.  Even if that is not the exact issue that he is addressing.

What difference does it make?  Well, it gives us a more nuanced understanding of what Paul means by “works of the law.”  He is not speaking about a belief that one can earn their way into heaven.  He is not even speaking of “good works” in general.  And so we need not pull our hair out and engage in mental and exegetical gymnastics to synthesize Paul with James. The “works of the law” that Paul talks about are not the same thing as the “works” that James speaks of when he says “a person is justified by works, and not by faith alone.”

As when we read the 1st century Jews, we should not take the plain sense of James 2:24 to mean that one might earn or merit their salvation.  I believe the basic difference between Paul’s “works of the law” which do not justify and James’ “works” which do, is this:

Paul’s “works of the law” deals with those who would make being Jewish—being “under the law”—a requirement for justification; James is dealing with those who espouse belief and show no fruit.  Paul’s theme is faith in Jesus Christ apart from the “works of the Torah”; James’ point is faith in Jesus Christ that results in good “works.”  “Works of the law” cannot justify; good “works” flowing from faith in Jesus Christ are required for justification.

Does that imply meritorious earning?  Not at all.  It is all of grace, through faith.  And so we may say with the Reformers: Sola Fide . . . just as long as we qualify that fides sine operibus non fide.⁴

FOOTNOTES:

And we know how the story goes from there.  God is displeased with Cain’s offering, but accepts the sacrifice of Abel.  Cain, jealous of his brother, kills him and becomes the first murderer.

It’s a simple and tragic story.  But there’s something going on beneath the surface.  Something that we likely did not get in Sunday school, at least in relation to this story.

For the question remains: why did God not accept the offering of Cain?  When Cain is jealous, what does God mean when he admonishes him with the words: “If you do well, will you not be accepted?” So what was the problem?  What did Cain do that was not “well”?  We aren’t even really told how God indicated that he accepted one offering and not the other.

At least when I was a child, we were told that Cain’s heart was not right when he made his sacrifice, and so God was not pleased.  And this is certainly the case.  God makes clear in many places that he desires the obedience of the heart, and not only outward sacrifice.

However, there is something more fundamentally wrong with Cain: while Abel brought blood atonement, Cain brought a grain offering.  He should have known that blood was required to atone for sin before harvest could be brought in thanksgiving.  Hebrews 9:22 tells us that “without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins.”

But this is before the law, is it not?  That is, the Mosaic Torah, with it’s Levitical system.  So it is.  But God sets the example of sacrifice for Adam and Eve from the beginning with he sheds the blood of animals to clothe them.  All are in sin.  All require the shedding of blood.  Whether God then gave them specifics of what and how to sacrifice, we aren’t told.

He didn’t have to.  The pattern was set.  Abel understood this, and so brought a spotless lamb as sacrifice, prefiguring Christ.  Cain also should have known.  He did know, and so God exhorted him to “do well.”  But Cain’s rebellious pride was too great.  And so the blood he shed, instead of atoning for sin, cried out from the ground to accuse him.

And so we must find ourselves in Christ, covered by His blood, if we hope for the atonement of our sin.

But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.
Hebrews 12:22-24

For if we are found in the blood of the Lamb as Abel was, then the blood that covers us atones for our sin, and does not cry out from the ground to accuse us, as it did for Cain.

. . . for sin indeed was in the world before the law was given, but sin is not counted (imputed) where there is no law. Yet death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over those whose sinning was not like the transgression of Adam . . .
Romans 5:13-14

I think sometimes people just pass over these verses without really thinking about them and trying to understand what Paul is really saying here.  I know I did before writing that paper.  After all, as a Reformed Christian, I would skim over Romans 5 and think, “Oh yeah.  Imputation of Adam’s sin.  I know that.”  And then move swiftly along.

When I took up that section for my exegetical study, I thought I knew exactly what I was going to find.  What a surprise I had!  I might write later posts about some of the other things I discovered in that study, but I’ll just concentrate on verses 13 and 14 here.

First, I think it is clear that Paul is speaking here specifically to Gentile believers.  That is not to say that the text has no relevance to the Jews, but he is clearly zeroing in on a state where one is not “under the law.”  He has made this distinction before in Romans, and he maintains it now for the sake of the Gentile who might say “But what has the Torah to do with me?  Why does God yet condemn?”

In answer to this, Paul makes clear that sin was in the world even “before the Law was given”—that is, in the period of time between Adam to Moses—and that this sin was enough to condemn, even apart from the Law.  However, Paul also make clear that there is a qualitative difference between the sin of Adam and the sin of those between Adam and Moses.

This brings to mind Romans 2:12, where Paul tells his readers that all are under condemnation.  Those who sin apart from the Law will perish even without it.  Those who sin under it will be judged by it.  Note that it is possible to sin apart from the Law; this is a clear reference to Gentiles and Jews.

Here’s the real kicker though, and the part that really challenged me to reconsider everything I thought I knew about Romans 5.  Sin, Paul tells us, was in the world “before the law was given,” but is not “imputed” apart from the Law.  From Adam to Moses was the period “before the law was given.”  So if we give the text its due, we must conclude that sin was not imputed to sinners from Adam to Moses.

Now, if we take the text to mean what it says, we must either rethink our traditional systematic definition of the theological term “impute,” or we must adopt a weird interpretation that says that those between Adam and Moses did not receive condemnation of Adam’s sin.

If we take the context into account, then we must also recognize that Paul is likening his Gentile readers to those “before the Law was given.”

I will not attempt to define “imputation” in this post.  I’ll save that for later.  I just wanted to encourage everyone to take another look at Romans 5 here.  Because how we read it has broad-sweeping implications for how we read the rest of the book.  Romans 7, for instance, where Paul says (whether of himself or of another is another related discussion), “I was once alive apart from the Law, but when the commandment came, sin came alive and I died.”

” . . . apart from the Law. . . .”  Hmmm . . . we’ve heard Paul use that kind of language before, haven’t we?

And when Jesus was baptized, immediately he went up from the water, and behold, the heavens were opened to him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming to rest on him . . .
~Matthew 3:16

So the question is, why a dove?  What significance does it have?  Jason briefly mentioned in his sermon last week that it has been said that the Jews associated the dove with the Holy Spirit.  If so, then how would they have known to do this?  I think the question can be answered by looking back to two Genesis passages.

First, the most obvious:

Then he sent forth a dove from him, to see if the waters had subsided from the face of the ground.  But the dove found no place to set her foot, and she returned to him to the ark, for the waters were still on the face of the whole earth. So he put out his hand and took her and brought her into the ark with him.
~Genesis 8:8-9

Noah releases a dove after the flood that covers the face of the earth to see if the waters have subsided.  The dove flies from the ark and hovers over the face of the waters, and finds no resting place.  Three times he releases the dove, before the waters subside.

Of itself, this may not bring to us thoughts of the Holy Spirit.  But I believe the story of the dove is a clear allusion to an earlier event in Genesis:

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.
~Genesis 1:1-2

At the creation of the heavens and the earth the Spirit also hovers over the face of the waters.  In the Noahic flood God remakes the world.  It is a type of the new creation.  When we read Genesis we should see this and associate the hovering of the dove over the water with the hovering of the Spirit in the opening phrases of the Bible.

And when Jesus comes out of the water and the dove descends on him, this also should bring Genesis to mind.  The dove is again hovering over the face of the water at the beginning of a new creation.  The ultimate New Creation is before us, as God purposes to remake Heaven and Earth through his Son, Jesus.

By baptism we identify with Christ, even as he identified with us, and so enter that New Creation.


We are into the third week of Advent, with Christmas less than a couple weeks off.  So I wanted to take a brief look at the Gospel of Luke, and particularly at Luke’s theme of Jesus as the Bread of Life.

Luke never actually calls Jesus “the bread of life”—that title comes from John’s Gospel.  But the theme of Jesus and His relationship and identification with bread runs deep through Luke’s account, with stories like the feeding of the five thousand, the comparing of the kingdom to leaven, etc.  In fact, the Gospel of Luke is bookended by stories that relate to bread.

At the end of Luke’s gospel we have the story of Jesus meeting the disciples on the road to Emmaus.  The crucifixion has taken place just a couple days prior, and two disciples are returning home from Jerusalem, somber for the events of the past week.  Jesus meets them on the road and expounds the entire Scripture to them and how the witness of the prophets made it plain that the Messiah must die and rise again on the third day.

Even so, they don’t really get it until Jesus administers to them the first Eucharist after the institution at the Last Supper.  He takes bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them.  That’s when their eyes are opened.  Jesus is here!  He is present with us now in the breaking of bread. It is the first anamnesis, and the disciples immediately recall what is meant by this ritual action.  Apart from the berakah, there are no words spoken by Jesus here.  It is the action itself that is the memorial—that reveals Christ to them and makes present the moment when he first took bread and said “This is my body, which is given for you.”

By now, Jesus has vanished, but his disciples have gotten the point.  So they do exactly the same thing that we are commissioned to do after every observance of the Supper—they return to Jerusalem, proclaiming the good news of Christ’s resurrection:

Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he was known to them in the breaking of the bread.
~Luke 24:35

In the same way, Jesus is known to us also in the breaking of bread.  It is Luke’s final lesson to us (until we get to Acts, where there is much more breaking of bread).

But back to our Christmas theme.  The story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus is the climax of Luke’s gospel.  It’s the realization of what he foreshadowed at the beginning of his account.

It is not insignificant for Luke that Jesus is born in a town called Bethlehem—the house of bread.  Matthew also records that Jesus is born in Bethlehem, but he is more focused on how the birth in Bethlehem fulfills the Old Testament prophets, and makes less of the name itself.

Luke, on the other hand, leaves aside the prophets for a moment to set out for us the scene of Jesus’ birth.  He first gives an extended account of what brought Mary and Joseph to this remote town, and then, in case we missed the significance of the town’s name, he includes the detail of Mary laying Jesus in a feeding trough (Luke 2:7).  The point is repeated and emphasized when the angels proclaim the good news to the shepherds.  “This will be a sign for you: you’ll find a baby . . . lying in a feeding trough” (verse 12).  Wait . . . that’s a sign?  A sign of what?  Again a third time, in case our wits are slow, Luke tells us: “They went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a feeding trough” (verse 16).

In Bethlehem.  In the house of bread.

So.  Have we got it yet?

Sources and additional reading:

LaVerdiere, Eugene. 2008. The Firstborn of God. Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications

I am sure I am saying nothing particularly new here, and to some it might already be common sense.  But it is new to me, at least with this degree of clarity, and hopefully will be helpful to any who read it.  I came to this realization recently while constructing a metered version of Mary’s Magnificat from Luke 1:46-56, which I will hopefully set to music in the near future.

My attention was drawn to verse 54.  “He has helped his servant Israel in remembrance of his mercy.”  The Greek word for mercy used here is ἔλεος in its basic form.  And by a strictly lexical definition, it means exactly what it sounds like.  It is an attitude or action of pity and kindness to those who are less fortunate or undeserving.  And it certainly means that.  We are undeserving and pitiable creatures to God, and the goodness he shows to us is mercy indeed.

But the phrase “in remembrance of his mercy” drew me deeper because it is very similar to Old Testament constructions such as those found in Psalm 136, where the psalmist proclaims that God’s “steadfast love endures forever.”

The Hebrew word for “steadfast love” is hesed.  In fact, in the King James Version, it is translated as “mercy.”  But that does not really begin to describe what it means.  The ESV’s “steadfast love” and even the NLT’s “faithful love” are closer.  Hesed is constance, faithfulness, covenant keeping, and ever-abounding love.  It is the love that God has for his people, which the Old Testament writers celebrated time and again.

So the question this raised in my mind was: could ἔλεος be legitimately translated as “steadfast love”?  Can it be taken as the Greek form of hesed?  And if not, then what word in the Greek expresses the same idea?  Of course, to determine this I turned to the Septuagint.  And the answer was quite clear.  So clearly obvious that I’m sure I can’t possibly be the first to see it, and I wondered why I hadn’t heard it before.

In the Greek Septuagint translation of the Old Testament, which was produced nearly 300 years before Christ and was accepted by the apostles, the word hesed is consistently translated as ἔλεος.  The gospel writers composed their accounts with a pen in one hand and the Septuagint in the other, as it were.  They used the language of the Greek Old Testament.  So if the Septuagint so consistently used the word ἔλεος to render the Hebrew word hesed, we can be sure that the gospel writers used ἔλεος to denote the same concept.

Old Testament hesed = New Testament ἔλεος.

When we read the New Testament and see “mercy,” then, this should bring an added dimension to how we understand it.  It is not just the mercy of a judge who acquits, or that of the benefactor who rescues.  Yes, it is that.  But there is a lot more to it.  God’s acts of compassion, his forgiveness, and his salvation are a result of ἔλεος—his hesed—his covenant faithfulness and love to his people.

So when we say “Kyrie Eleison, Lord have mercy,” we are not only asking God to forgive us our sins and look upon us with pity, though that is part of it.  But more than that, we are asking God to remember his covenant faithfulness, just as the Old Testament saints called on YHWH to remember his hesed.  Mary understood this through her deep-rooted faith in the God of Israel.  She understood that in sending Jesus, the Savior, God had finally come to rescue his covenant people.

Because he remembered his mercy.