Archives for December 2025

On How to Think about Enemies, Part 9: Why Will He Judge Nineveh? 

December 11, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Now that Nahum has declared the certainty and extent of Nineveh’s destruction, he explains in more detail why it is coming—what noted British expositor G. Campbell Morgan called “the vindication of vengeance.”

Chapter 3 begins with “Woe!” This word (hoy in Hebrew) is most commonly used to introduce a pronouncement of judgment: “Hey! Pay attention! Look at me when I talk to you!”

Nineveh Is Thoroughly Evil

Nahum 3.1 lists 3 reasons for the judgment:

The city is “bloody”; it engages routinely in violence. As we’ve noted, the historical record is filled with testimony to this practice.
It is “full of lies and robbery.” This would include, I think, the concept of idolatry, which is the worship of false gods—as we’ll see in a moment.
It is predatory; the Assyrians are always after somebody.

The next two paragraphs expand on the last two of these reasons:

Remember the “montage” from chapter 2? Now Nahum recalls it (Na 3.2-3) as evidence that “the prey departeth not” (Na 3.1).
And he specifies the “lies and robbery” (Na 3.1) as manifested in idolatry (Na 3.4). God regularly sees Israel’s idolatry as adultery, leaving a covenant relationship with the true God for a cheap relationship with mere idols (e.g. Hosea). Here he makes it clear that even for other nations, who do not share in the Abrahamic Covenant, idolatry is violation of a covenant. I think I see a basis for this in Romans 1.18-23, where God asserts that Creation itself is sufficient evidence for the worship of the true God. The rest of this paragraph (Na 3.5-7) describes the appropriate judgment for spiritual adultery—shame, contempt, and revulsion—in horrifying detail.

God Is Thoroughly Just

I’ve just said that the form of judgment, as violent and horrifying as it is, is appropriate. How can I say that?

Because God does right. He will cleanse his creation of the chaos and pain brought by evil actors through their evil actions.

Nahum begins by noting that God has done this before. He gives the specific example of Thebes (ESV; NASB “No-Amon,” KJV “No”) in Egypt (Na 3.8). Thebes, what we now call Karnak/Luxor, was the capital of Upper (Southern) Egypt, and a wonder of power, wealth, and architecture. In many ways it was even more impressive than Nineveh. And unlike Nineveh, which had engendered fear but not loyalty among the surrounding, conquered nations, Thebes had formed alliances—sort of a NATO—among its neighbors Cush (Ethiopia), Egypt, Put (Somalia), and Libya (Na 3.9). But in 663 BC God had destroyed it through an invading army.

Which army? Well, funny you should ask.

The Assyrian army.

If God could use Nineveh to destroy Thebes in recent memory (Na 3.10), what was to prevent him from using some other earthly power to destroy Nineveh?

So there. Q.E.D.

Nineveh, then, will be similarly destroyed.

What will she look like when the enemy invades?

She will be disoriented and ineffectual, as though drunk (Na 3.11).
She will recognize her weakness and look for a place to hide (Na 3.11).
She will fall easily into the hand of the invader (Na 3.12).
Her soldiers will be weak (Na 3.13).
Her fortifications will crumble (Na 3.13).
No matter what she does to prepare—store up water, make bricks, expand military forces (Na 3.14-15)—she will be defeated.
Her riches will be plundered (Na 3.16).
Her leaders will abandon her (Na 3.17).
Her leaders are apathetic—or perhaps dead (Na 3.18).
When she’s gone, nobody will care (Na 3.19).

And there the book ends.

Yikes.

What a laundry list. What a reversal. What a judgment.

So, what’s Nahum’s point? How should we think about our enemies?

Do you think that a perfectly just, infinitely powerful God can’t deal with your enemies better than you can?

I’m not suggesting that we should savor anticipating our enemies’ destruction; we’ve already noted that God loves our enemies as much as he loves us, and we should too. We should desire their repentance and faith in God, so that he will graciously forgive them, just as he has forgiven us despite the depravity and depth of our own sins.

But I am suggesting that our own efforts to harm our enemies are doomed to be incomplete, foolish, and feckless. This a job for the Creator of heaven and earth, the covenant-keeping God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Our God.

Next time: one more prophet.

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On How to Think about Enemies, Part 8: How Will He Judge Nineveh?

December 8, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

In chapter 1 Nahum has stated that God will certainly judge Nineveh; now, in predictive prophecy, he describes it happening—not in a single report, but in a series of impressions flashing by, like a video montage. He addresses Nineveh directly, warning the city to prepare for the coming violence. A “smasher” is coming, and you’d better get ready (Na 2.1). How?

Keep the munition, watch the way, make thy loins strong, fortify thy power mightily.

Do what you can. But as the context makes clear, there is really nothing they can do to prepare for the attack of the “smasher.” His power is infinite, and his rage is intense—as chapter 1 makes clear. You’ve never met an enemy like this one.

In the KJV Nahum 2.2 sounds like judgment on Israel, but most of the modern versions render it as a promise of blessing:

For the Lord will restore the splendor of Jacob Like the splendor of Israel, Even though devastators have devastated them And destroyed their vine branches (Na 2.2 NASB).

Why this statement of blessing in the middle of a promise of violent destruction? Some interpreters have suggested that it’s an aside, as though God the “smasher” (and I say this reverently) turns to his people and says, “Watch this!”

Now come the flashes of battle vignettes. First there’s the red of the approaching attackers, the Medo-Babylonians (Na 2.3), then a closeup of the violence in the streets. Now image after image pictures the invasion and destruction of Nineveh (Na 2.4-7).

There’s some question about the word “Huzzab” (Na 2.7 KJV). It could be a place name or a personal name, as the KJV renders it, or it could be a verb meaning “It is fixed.” In either case the destruction is unavoidable.

The mention of water in Nahum 2.8 is also interesting. We know that Assyrian rulers had built dams to control the water supply. Now, Nahum says, “They shall flee away.” Does this mean that the attackers will flood the city, or that they will divert the waters so that the people face death by thirst? Again, neither possibility is any good for the Assyrians.

Now we see the ransacking (Na 2.9). Nineveh had extorted silver and gold by the ton from its conquered enemies in “tribute.” But now it’s all meaningless, because it’s all gone.

Years ago a property in my neighborhood held an estate sale. The late owners had been collectors of many valuable things; gold, silver, crystal, fine china, art. We watched as all of it went to strangers, mostly antique dealers interested simply in reselling for profit, in one afternoon. All the memories were gone. A vivid illustration of Ecclesiastes 12.

You can’t take it with you.

The chapter ends with a “sword song,” a taunt from the victor. The words “empty, and void, and waste” (Na 2.10) are deeply impactful in Hebrew: Buqah uMebuqah uMebullaqah. They hit like a series of hammer blows, reinforcing the violence and completeness of the destruction.

The Assyrian lion is destroyed, surrounded by wasteland (Na 2.11-13).

It’s been my privilege to observe lions in the wild many times. They are not afraid, because they have no predators. They hunt as they wish, but most of the time they sit in the shade of trees, a male and his pride, staring calmly into the distance, looking bored, and studiously ignoring the tourists and the clicking of their cameras.

But this lion has faced a predator that is infinitely greater than he is, against whom none can stand. His judgment is complete.

We today have difficulty comprehending the significance of this prophecy. Nineveh ruled the entire known world with extreme violence and cruelty. If you heard that the Assyrians were coming, you prepared to die, because they had power and reach all across the known world, and they were certain to crush you like a bug.

But in God’s economy, the roles are reversed, and judgment comes to those who justly deserve it. God deals with those who abuse his people.

In the next chapter we’ll look at why God chose to act this intensely against Assyria.

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On How to Think about Enemies, Part 7: Who Will Judge Nineveh?

December 4, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

We turn to a second prophet, Nahum, for more insight into how we should think about our enemies. Nahum lived about a hundred years after Jonah, at a time when Nineveh was still dominant but about to fall. He’s much less well known than Jonah, for an obvious reason: Jonah is narrative, so his story gets told to all the kids in Sunday school.

Nahum’s prophecy is a counterpoint to Jonah’s story. Jonah is all about mercy; Nahum is much darker. The reason is not difficult to discern: Nineveh’s repentance apparently didn’t last very long, and the leaders returned to their cruel, abominable ways. Nahum tells us about what happens when mercy is ignored.

I’m going to use an outline provided by Willmington’s Bible Handbook: in laying out the judgment of Nineveh, chapter 1 tells us Who?; chapter 2 tells us How?; and chapter 3 tells us Why?

The whole purpose of Scripture is to reveal to us who God is, because knowing him is the purpose for which he created us. Not surprisingly, the infinite God is a complex being, an infinitely round character. There’s a lot to him. In this chapter he reveals his care for his people, which involves both lovingly recognizing and protecting them and also angrily—wrathfully—removing threats to their well-being.

The Lord is “slow to anger” (Na 1.3), but he also loves his people and is highly motivated (“jealous”) to defend them (Na 1.2). By Nahum’s time Nineveh has taken Israel into exile and has attacked Judah, breaking off their siege of Jerusalem only after the Angel of the Lord slaughtered their army (2K 19.35). The time for mercy is past; judgment is justly due.

And God is fully capable of rendering judgment against any foe. He dries up rivers (Na 1.4), which are typically obstacles to advancing armies; the NET Bible notes, “The Assyrians waged war every spring after the Tigris and Euphrates rivers dried up, allowing them to cross. As the Mighty Warrior par excellence, the LORD is able to part the rivers to attack Assyria.”

He is not only able; he is motivated. Nahum 1.6 includes four different words for anger, as though he is angry in every way possible (from the four corners of the earth?). When someone who is “slow to anger” is this angry, then his commitment to his people is absolute; he will certainly defend them. This is evidence not of smashing things in a temper tantrum, but of goodness (Na 1.7). We love it when a strong hero steps in to defend the weak, even when a Boy Scout helps a little old lady across the street. This is that exponentiated.

It’s true that Judah had faced an Assyrian invasion before Nahum, but now God speaks words of comfort to them:

“Though I have afflicted thee, I will afflict thee no more. ¹³For now will I break his yoke from off thee, And will burst thy bonds in sunder” (Nah 1.12-13).

And to their attacker he says,

“Out of the house of thy gods will I cut off the graven image and the molten image: I will make thy grave; for thou art vile” (Na 1.14).

This is good news to God’s people, and Nahum echoes Isaiah’s earlier prophecy:

“Behold upon the mountains the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace!” (Na 1.15; cf Is 52.7).

We know from history that the Northern Kingdom of Israel could not have defeated the Assyrians, because, well, they didn’t. And we know that the Southern Kingdom of Judah couldn’t either, because God had to break the siege on Jerusalem by massacring the Assyrian army.

Even assuming that we don’t deserve what our enemies are doing to us—that they are acting unjustly—how likely is it that we’ll enforce justice better than the Almighty can and will?

Next time, we’ll move into chapter 2.

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On How to Think about Enemies, Part 6: Jonah v. God

December 1, 2025 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1: Introduction  | Part 2: Jonah, for the First Time | Part 3: Exemplary Pagans | Part 4: A Psalm | Part 5: More Exemplary Pagans 

Jonah’s story closes with a second conversation with God (the first being chapter 2). It begins by showing us Jonah’s heart, and it ends by showing us God’s heart. The contrast is instructive for our thesis.

Jonah’s Heart

The chapter starts with the word “but.” Following God’s forgiveness of the repentant people of Nineveh at the closing of the previous chapter (Jon 3.10), Jonah is deeply unhappy. God is pleased; the prophet is displeased. He wanted to deliver the message of judgment, but he did not want the evil ones to be forgiven.

And now we learn why he sailed for Tarshish—the ends of the earth—when God first commissioned him:

O Lord, was not this my saying, when I was yet in my country? Therefore I fled before unto Tarshish: for I knew that thou art a gracious God, and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repentest thee of the evil (Jon 4.2).

“I knew you’d do this!” he rants. “I knew you were just the sort of person who would forgive them!”

How did he know that? He knew it because that is how God has revealed himself throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, beginning with Moses at Sinai (Ex 34.6-7) and continuing through Israel’s entrance into the Promised Land, and the Psalms, and on the return from Babylon, and (after Jonah) in the prophet Joel. Here Jonah is essentially quoting God’s words to Moses some seven centuries earlier.

And Jonah didn’t want that.

And this despite the fact that he had just been delivered from a destruction (Jon 2.10) that he completely deserved (Jon 1.12). Grace for me, he thinks, but not for thee. Because I hate you. You’re my enemy. I’d rather die than see grace come to you (Jon 4.3).

As at the very beginning of his story, Jonah’s will is at cross purposes with God’s.

Some prophet.

God’s Heart

God asks Jonah a simple question—“Are you doing right?” (Jon 4.4), and then the conversation pauses while God gives the rebellious, blindly angry prophet an object lesson.

This is the Mesopotamian desert. It’s barren, except just along the banks of the Tigris River, and it’s really, really hot. Jonah hikes up a hillside for a good view of the city, in desperate hope that God will nuke the Assyrians just as he did the Sodomites. He builds some kind of rudimentary shelter for shade from the sun—using whatever materials he can find in this desert—and he waits (Jon 4.5).

And God, the Teacher, causes a vine to grow up in just a day, a vine with good-sized leaves to give Jonah further protection from the sun (Jon 4.6).

Aaahhh. Thank you, Lord. You are so kind.

But the next day the vine withers and dies. And then a hot, dry desert wind, like a scirocco, arises and just saps the life out of everything, especially Jonah (Jon 4.8). Now he’s thirsty; he has sand in his throat and in his eyes and in his ears and he’s more miserable than he’s ever been, and on top of everything, the sandstorm is so thick that he won’t be able to see anything even if God does destroy Nineveh.

And now the conversation resumes.

You feel bad about the vine, do you? An insensate, transitory vine? (Jon 4.9-10).

What about all these people, who do live and feel and suffer? Including 120,000 children, too young to know left from right? (Jon 4.11).

What about the children, indeed.

And here the story ends.

We don’t know how Jonah answers, or whether he answers. We don’t know how or whether the conversation continues—is this a rhetorical question that God tosses over his shoulder as he strides, so to speak, out of Jonah’s life forever?

We know that at some later time Jonah writes the story down, or he tells it to someone else who writes it down, and that the account finds its way into the Israelite literary corpus and eventually the Hebrew Scripture. That gives us some hope that the old bigot came to his senses; perhaps he realized that at core, he too was an Assyrian. Or, as pastor and hymnwriter Chris Anderson has preached, “I am the Samaritan woman.”

But leaving the speculation aside, what do we learn from this prophet about how to think about our enemies?

Our first principle:

God loves our enemies just as much as he loves us.

Perhaps that’s why he tells us to love our enemies (Mt 5.44), and also to be like him (1P 1.16).

If you want your enemies destroyed, you’re doing it wrong.

If you would be pleased to see them judged, you’re doing it wrong.

Next time, we’ll begin our look at Nahum.

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