Bible

Archaeology, Part 5: David 

February 2, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: The Days of Abraham | Part 3: Egypt | Part 4: Canaan 

What followed the invasion of Canaan was a time of loose confederation that we call “the period of the Judges.”

Snippets from this period are recorded for us in, not surprisingly, the book of Judges. A repeated theme in that book is that “there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Jdg 17.6; 18.1; 19.1; 21.25). Those days saw a regular cycle of apostasy, invasion, repentance, deliverance through a judge, and then apostasy again.

There are a good many archaeological finds from this period—what archaeologists call the Late Bronze and Early Iron Ages—but none that provide clear links to the wider “secular” history, so far as I am aware. No inscriptions naming any of the judges; no donkey jawbones with odd scratch marks.

Given the biblical theme, we should expect that the political situation would be unstable and that yearning for a king and the resultant stability would grow—similar, I suppose, to the way the US Articles of Confederation eventuated in a robust Constitution and balanced but limited federal government.

As we know, the first king, Saul, was a disappointment, but while he was still king, God had the prophet Samuel appoint his successor, the shepherd boy David (1S 16.12-13). David ended up reigning for 40 years, setting a standard that outshone all that followed, with the possible exception of his son Solomon.

We have some interesting archaeology referencing David.

Tel Dan Stele

For more than two centuries after the rise of rationalism in the 18^th century, biblical criticism viewed the David / Solomon stories as the stuff of legends, attempts by an insignificant Levant-based tribe to legitimize its past. No historical Saul or Goliath or Bathsheba or visit of the Queen of Sheba. No wise Solomon, and no David. Legends all.

Then, in 1993, archaeologists uncovered a paved courtyard in the northern city of Dan, which had been a worship center set up by Jeroboam I, the northern king after the split from Solomon’s son Rehoboam (1K 12.28-29). Upon turning over some of the paving stones, they found writing on the undersides. Three of the stones had been repurposed from a stele that had been broken up. The stele and inscription were ordered in the 9^th century BC, probably by Hazael, king of Syria/Damascus, in commemoration of his attack on the kingdoms of Israel and Judah. (You can understand why the memorial would have been broken up after Hazael’s dominance was over.)

The key element in the inscription is the king’s reference to “Ahaziah the son of Jehoram king of the house of David” (the phrase “the house of David” highlighted white in the photo linked above). This is the first known historical reference to David.

In the years since its discovery, there have been arguments over details of interpretation (as there pretty much always are in archaeology), but most scholars agree that this is a reference to King David, and that he was a historical figure.

Mesha Stele (Moabite Stone)

Mesha was king of Moab, just east of the Dead Sea, in the mid-9^th century BC, during and just after the reigns of Jehoshaphat in Judah and Ahab in Israel. This stele, discovered in 1868, has been recognized for decades as containing the earliest historical reference to YHWH, the God of Israel.

But after the discovery of the Tel Dan stele, scholars looked more closely at this artifact to see whether it too might contain a reference to the house (“BT”) of David (“DWD”). In “a badly damaged section” they found “BT[?]WD,” which would say that, if the damaged spot contained the letter “D.”

Maybe, maybe not.

(Yes, I just linked to a Wikipedia article, which is just not done in academic writing, but this article is actually pretty good.)

So David has been rescued from the mists of legend to actual historical status.

Ever onward.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Archaeology, Part 4: Canaan

January 29, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: The Days of Abraham | Part 3: Egypt 

The Bible records that after the Exodus from Egypt and the Wilderness Wanderings in Sinai, Moses died before the Israelites, under Joshua’s leadership, conquered the Canaanite tribes and settled into their allotted tribal areas.

There are a couple of archaeological sites that connect the biblical story of the conquering of Canaan with “secular” history.

Ugarit

Ugarit was a major city on the Mediterranean coast just north of the Phoenician capital of Tyre, in modern Syria. It was there for a long time, but most of what we know from the site is from the Bronze Age, up to about 1200 BC. Ugarit was apparently at its peak between 1500 and 1200 BC. This coincides nicely with the conquest of Canaan by Joshua and by the succeeding period of the judges.

The site has yielded a wealth of cuneiform tablets, written in a language (“Ugaritic”) similar to Hebrew in some ways but distinct from it. These tablets describe trade and political relations across the Ancient Near East, particularly with Egypt. There’s even a letter from Merneptah (remember him?).

But the site’s two most significant contributions to biblical studies are in religion and language. There are numerous references to Baal and Dagan, with descriptions of religious practices that illuminate the reasons that God saw the Canaanite religions as reprehensible.

Ugaritic has also helped greatly in our understanding of Ancient Near Eastern languages. An example that I particularly like has relevance to 1 Samuel 13.21. The verse describes a problem the Israelites had with making weapons: they had to go to the Philistines to get their tools sharpened, and of course the Philistines wouldn’t sharpen any tool with a military application.

Here the KJV says, “They had a file for the mattocks.” The Hebrew word translated “file” is pim, and nobody had any idea what it meant. Working off the context, the KJV translators guessed that the Israelites had their own tools for sharpening their farm implements. But the word pim shows up in Ugaritic: it’s a monetary value, about 2/3 of a shekel. So the verse says that the Israelites had to pay that fee for getting a tool sharpened. The modern English translations, published after the archaeological work in Ugarit, reflect that understanding.

Deir Alla

Deir Alla is an archaeological site on the east side of the Jordan, about midway between the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea. The site includes a wall that collapsed, likely from a tremor. We know that the area suffered a major earthquake during the reign of Jeroboam II in the mid-8th century BC (Amos 1.1), so that’s interesting.

But what’s really interesting is that the wall contains an inscription, written in red and black ink on plaster. This inscription records “the book of Balaam, son of Beor, a seer of the gods.”

As you might expect, the inscription is not in good shape, and there are words missing and writing that is not completely unambiguous. But the great majority of scholars, conservative and liberal, agree that this is a reference to the biblical Balaam.

Interestingly, the inscription does not include the prophecy recorded in Numbers 23 and 24. But the inscription’s existence argues strongly for the historical existence of this prophet, and the details coordinate nicely with how the biblical account describes him.

Next time, we’ll proceed to the time of David.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Archaeology, Part 3: Egypt

January 26, 2026 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: The Days of Abraham

As we proceed through Israel’s history, we find that Abraham’s grandson Jacob, in his old age, traveled to Egypt to live under the protection of his son Joseph, who had become the pharaoh’s assistant (Gen 47.1ff). At that time only 70 of his descendants came with him (Gen 46.27), but 400 years later they numbered in the millions; at the Exodus there were just over 600,000 men of fighting age (Num 1.46), so we can estimate that there were probably 2 million Israelites including old men, women, and children.

There’s not much if any archaeological evidence of these people in either Goshen or the Sinai Peninsula. However, this is exactly what we would expect. Since we know that Goshen was prime agricultural land (Gen 47.6), the Egyptians would have moved rapidly into it after the Israelites left, obliterating whatever material culture they left behind. And in the Sinai, while initially we would think that 2 million people would leave some traces behind, we must remember that Israel was itinerant for the entire 40 years; they would have built nothing, leaving behind just firepits and latrines, which would have decomposed and disappeared quickly.

But there are archaeological findings that raise our interest. I’d like to note two of them.

Thutmose IV Dream Stele

Between the paws of the Sphinx on the Giza Plateau, near the pyramids, stands a stele—what moderns might think looks like a large vertical tombstone. But stela do not normally mark a grave; they contain an inscription typically announcing some great person or deed. This one is about 12 feet tall and was erected by Pharaoh Thutmose IV, a son of Amenhotep II.

In the inscription Thutmose describes falling asleep on that spot one hot summer day and having a dream in which a god promised him that if he would clear the sand from the Sphinx, he would become Pharaoh.

Now, this interpretation is sketchy at best, but scholars have noticed that if Thutmose was Amenhotep’s eldest son, he would already have known that he was going to be Pharaoh, and he wouldn’t have had to do any landscaping for that to happen. Something must have happened, then, to an older brother.

Thutmose took the throne in 1401, 45 years after the exodus. He reigned just 10 years, which may mean that he was relatively old when he became pharaoh—perhaps, oh, 60 or 70.—and was perhaps 20 or so when he had the dream, just before his older brother died.

Of what?

Well, there was that whole firstborn thing.

Now, caution is due here. The timing seems right, but all we have is that he was told he would be pharaoh. Everything else is speculation.

But it’s interesting timing.

Merneptah Stele

This stele was placed by Pharaoh Merneptah (or Meren-ptah), who reigned from 1213 to 1203 BC, about two centuries after Israel occupied the land of Canaan. It contains 28 lines of hieroglyphic writing, most of which describe his military campaigns in North Africa. But the last 3 lines have drawn attention, because they describe a campaign in Canaan. One of the locations is “I.si.ri.ar” or “Ysrir.” Most scholars now agree that this is a reference to Israel. This would mean, then, that Israel is established in that land 200 years after Joshua.

Side note: Most critics place the Exodus, if they believe it happened at all, in the mid-13th century BC. Conservatives date it at 1446 BC, based on 1 Kings 6.1. That’s a large topic, too big to handle here. The Merneptah inscription could accommodate either date, but I would argue that the apparent solid establishment of the nation would favor the earlier date for the conquest.

So far this is the earliest inscriptional reference to Israel we have outside the Bible. Israel is established as settled in the land in the late 13^th century BC.

As we know, Israel’s history extends far beyond this date, and as time progresses, we would expect more and more artifacts to be extant. We’ll look at some of these in future posts.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Archaeology, Part 2: The Days of Abraham

January 22, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction 

My claim is that several archaeological finds demonstrate an intersection between the biblical narrative and the “secular” ancient history that everybody learns in high school and college. Depending on the details, most of these can be taken to demonstrate a reliability or historicity in the biblical account. I’d like to go through several of these, in roughly chronological order. (I say “roughly” because many of the objects cannot be dated precisely.)

Nuzi

Because the Middle East is largely desert, the Euphrates River dominates it. As it meanders its way southeast from the mountains of southeastern Turkey to the Persian Gulf, its water provides life to a crescent-shaped region from northern Syria through modern Iraq, paralleling its sister river the Tigris, and then through Kuwait, where it empties into the Persian Gulf. Not surprisingly, the kingdoms, cultures, and their cities snuggle up close to this “Fertile Cresent.”

Nuzi was a city near modern Kirkuk, Iraq, about 100 miles north of Baghdad, east of the Tigris. It was at its geopolitical height around 2000 BC, the time of Abraham.

Archaeologists found tablets that recorded the legal and social customs of that culture.

One tablet contains the following regulation:

“The tablet of adoption belonging to Nashwi … : he adopted Wullu …. As long as Nashwi is alive, Wullu shall provide food and clothing; when Nashwi dies, Wullu shall become the heir.”

Thus an aging, childless couple could adopt an adult son to care for them when they could no longer care for themselves, and when they died he would inherit their wealth. This appears to be the arrangement between Abram and Eliezer of Damascus (Gen 15.2). God, of course, had another plan for Abram’s wealth, and a lot more.

Side note: I’ve wondered about the inherent conflict of interest in these arrangements; when the adoptive parents die, the adoptee’s work ends, and he gets their money. I wonder how many adoptees hastened the death of their adoptive parents, whether by action or just neglect.

Another tablet reads as follows:

“Kelim-ninu has been given in marriage to Shennima. If Kelim-ninu bears, Shennima shall not take another wife; but if Kelim-ninu does not bear, Kelim-ninu shall acquire a woman of the land of Lullu as a wife for Shennima, and Kelim-ninu may not send the offspring away.”

Another side note: I’m not sure the land of Lullu would be the best place to find a good wife.

The infertile wife—and in those days the wife was always assumed to be the infertile one—bore the responsibility of finding a fertile wife for her husband. This too sounds familiar; Sarai, beyond the age of child-bearing, insists that Abram take her servant as a wife so that she (Hagar) can bear him a son (Gen 16.2). It was her responsibility.

This also helps explain why Abram was troubled when Sarai later demanded Hagar’s expulsion from the house (Gen 21.9-12). Given the relationship, that just wasn’t done.

Now, I’m not suggesting that Abram and Sarai lived under the laws of Nuzi; the Bible never places them in that city. But the city was in effect the capital of a large region in eastern Mesopotamia, and its laws would certainly influence the laws of the surrounding area, from Ur to Haran, across the eastern Fertile Crescent. It’s no surprise that the patriarch would have followed those cultural practices.

A connection, verified in historical records, between the practices of the ancient patriarch Abram and the culture in which he lived.

We’ll turn next time to Israel’s time in Egypt.

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Archaeology and the Bible, Part 1: Introduction

January 19, 2026 by Dan Olinger 3 Comments

The Indiana Jones movies have raised interest in archaeology, but they’ve also misrepresented it pretty badly. For starters, the guy in the cool hat accomplished 15 or 20 lifetimes’ worth of archaeological discovery in just a handful of movies. Most archaeology is pretty boring to people who aren’t cut out for it; it’s a lot of digging in the dirt, slowly, methodically, sweatingly, and finding nothing of substance over the course of several summer digs. A potsherd will make your week, and a scarab or a ring will make your year. The chances of your finding something historically or economically significant are slim.

Patience. Only those who love archaeology are likely to persist.

And over the decades, those who love it have found some remarkable things.

Archaeology is a global endeavor—or maybe I should call it a sport—and every continent has yielded finds to the persistent. But my field is the Bible, and since the biblical narrative is confined to Egypt and the Middle East—and mostly in Israel—my focus is on a relatively small portion of the globe.

Some few of these discoveries get attention in the popular press, and a disturbingly large portion of those popular reports are just wrong—sometimes accidentally, because the concepts are complex, and sometimes intentionally, to stir up interest and get hits on somebody’s web page. (No, archaeologists did not find chariot wheels at the bottom of the Red Sea.)

But there are genuine, significant discoveries. Pretty much everybody’s heard of the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Some significant discoveries tell us simply about what the culture was like in ancient days. (The linked article, by the way, has the “click-bait” title typical of reports in the popular press.) That’s probably the most common type. Others help us understand ancient languages better.

There’s another subset of these discoveries that I find particularly interesting, because of what they tell us about history.

If you grew up in a Christian school or home school, you studied both world history and the Bible. I don’t know if you noticed, but world history and biblical history seem to have different casts of characters.

World history had Hammurabi and Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar.

Biblical history had Adam and Noah and Abraham and David and Ezra and Paul.

Different characters.

Oh, there’s a little overlap. Nebuchadnezzar and Cyrus and Caesar Augustus show up in both stories. But overall the two seem to be very different.

There are good reasons for the difference, of course. The biblical narrative begins before the start of written records or a surviving material culture—especially before the Flood—placing that period out of the reach of historians. And after that, the biblical story is focused on the development of a small nation without much political power, rather than on the great world powers, except as their plans intersect with that small nation of Israel.

But skeptics often consign biblical history to the legend bin because the stories are so different.

And thus I consider certain archaeological finds interesting because they bridge the gap between the two stories; they serve to tie the two stories together in a historical way.

Something I particularly like about these intersections is that they tend to be small. They don’t connect David or Solomon, say, with the incipient Assyrians, which would get serious headlines; rather they tell us about little details, such as the name of Jeremiah’s scribe, or the amount of gold traded between a couple of cities in the time of Abraham. I would suggest that a forger is not likely to be interested in these sorts of data. They don’t have the popular punch of, say, Hitler’s diaries.

In the next few posts, I’d like to present a few of these discoveries, ending with an observation about their significance.

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On How to Think about Enemies, Part 11: God Is Great, and God Is Good

December 22, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Our third prophet, Habakkuk, will wrap up our thinking with a flourish. He has asked God why he hasn’t judged Judah for her sins, and God has assured him that he will—with the Chaldeans (Babylonians).

But this raises another question. The Babylonians, like the Assyrians, are cruel and violent. Habakkuk asks, “Why, God, would you judge sinners by giving victory to even worse sinners?” (Hab 1.13). How can God use, and benefit, such ruthless (Hab 1.14), brutal (Hab 1.15), sensuous (Hab 1.16), and relentless (Hab 1.17) people?

Good question. And now Habakkuk waits for an answer (Hab 2.1).

Was he out of line for asking the question? I don’t think so—not if God gave him the answer he requested. Even further, God ordered Habakkuk to write down the answer and to run to deliver it to his people (Hab 2.2).

Justice is coming, God says, but slowly (Hab 2.3). You need to trust me and be patient (Hab 2.4).

The next section (Hab 2.5-20) is a “taunt song,” similar to the one David spoke to Goliath as their battle approached. God describes what he will to the the Chaldeans:

The looter will be looted (Hab 2.6-8).

The cocky one will be exposed (Hab 2.9-11).

The expansionist will be thwarted and outshone by the glory of God (Hab 2.12-14).

The shameless will be defamed (Hab 2.15-17).

The idolatrous will be powerless before the enthroned God of heaven (Hab 2.18-20). The Hebrew of Hab 2.20 effectively says, “Hush!”

God will act in his own time, overcoming Habakkuk’s enemies in ways the prophet never could. To this point in the book, we’ve seen our second principle restated: God is better at dealing with our enemies than we can be,

But the book doesn’t stop there; there’s one more chapter. Here God quits speaking, and the prophet speaks in response to what he has heard.

Or rather, he sings; this is a musical work, as the musical term Shigionoth (Hab 3.1) indicates. And what does he sing?

He begins with full recognition of the greatness of this God who is in his holy temple, infinitely greater than Habakkuk, than Judah, than Chaldea, and even than the whole earth (Hab 2.20). The prophet has asked his questions; now it’s time for him to reflect on the answers.

He begins by describing the Lord’s powerful execution of judgment and justice. I won’t go into the details; it’s moving enough for us just to read it thoughtfully. At the end of it all, the prophet stands overwhelmed by this all-powerful God (Hab 3.16).

But.

He can “rest in the day of trouble” (Hab 3.16), because this all-powerful God is no stranger; he is the covenant God of Judah. He is Habakkuk’s God.

And so he closes with words with which most of us are familiar.

No matter what happens (Hab 3.17), he says, “I will rejoice in the Lord” (Hab 3.18).

Why?

Because God will do things right; he will keep his promises; he will deliver his people.

So how do we think about our enemies?

We see them not as enemies, but as broken objects of God’s love, just as we are.

We trust God to deal with them infinitely more effectively than we can.

And we trust God to do the right thing, and to do it perfectly.

In this world or the next, our enemies will be properly dealt with. We have the privilege of trusting our God, who is in his holy temple.

Fear and despair in the face of polarization and rage is just stupid.

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On How to Think about Enemies, Part 10: Why the Delay? 

December 15, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

We turn now to a third prophet who will refine how we think about our enemies. He’s the prophet with the funny name, Habakkuk. He lived, apparently, just before Babylon began attacking Judah and taking her people into exile. This was a time of great evil in Judah—evil kings, evil priests, evil businessmen, evil everybody else. As a prophet, Habakkuk is grieved and troubled by the evil he sees all around him. He cries out to God, seeking answers (Hab 1.2-3), decrying the evil behavior of his own people (Hab 1.3-4).

Have you ever wished that you could just sit down and have a one-on-one conversation with the Almighty? Ask him pointed, specific questions, and hear his answers?

Well, Habakkuk is one of the few people who’ve ever been granted that opportunity. Though lots of people have cried out, “How long, O Lord?” (Hab 1.2), most of them don’t get an audible, verbal answer. Habakkuk does. And his book is a record of the conversation.

In chapter 1 Habakkuk asks God a question and receives an answer—which only raises a further question at the end of the chapter. Chapter 2 records God’s further answer. And chapter 3 wraps it all up, with an example that will put the finishing touches on our philosophy of response to our enemies.

Habakkuk’s first question to God is, “Why don’t you judge Judah’s evil?” (Hab 1.2-3). He describes the evil that is prompting his cry:

Violence (Hab 1.2). Interestingly for our day, this is the word hamas.

Violent robbery (Hab 1.3)

Strife and contention (Hab 1.3)

The Law is paralyzed and does not render justice (Hab 1.4).

Everywhere he looks, there’s evil (Hab 1.4).

Does any of this sound familiar? Maybe applicable to our relationships with our enemies?

The prophet thinks this calls for divine judgment.

And he’s right.

And now, uncharacteristically, God speaks up; he answers Habakkuk’s question.

He begins with a simple promise: I will indeed judge Judah, and within your lifetime (Hab 1.5).

And this tells us why Habakkuk’s question—“How long, O Lord?”—is unwarranted. First, he has apparently assumed that God doesn’t know about the problem; and second, that if he does know, he apparently doesn’t care.

Bad thinking, friend. God knows all things, and his heart is closely wrapped up in his creation and in his covenants. Delay doesn’t mean anything.

God is never in a hurry, because hurry is evidence of lack of authority and ability. Remember the White Rabbit?

God moves deliberately, authoritatively, and always exactly at the right time.

I suppose I should say that we shouldn’t be too hard on ol’ Habakkuk. His entire question seems to be prompted by his firm belief that God will do the right thing—so why isn’t he doing it?! It seems that his view of God is correct; he simply doesn’t understand the timing. We’ll see clearer evidence of this at the end of this chapter.

Now God expands on his answer. He is going to judge Judah by means of the “Chaldeans” (Hab 1.6)—essentially another term for the Babylonians (Is 47.1), who about this time (605 BC) have defeated Egypt at Carchemish (Jer 46.2), establishing themselves as the dominant power in the Middle East. Their infantry is intimidating (Hab 1.7), and their cavalry gives them swiftness of movement (Hab 1.8)—Blitzkrieg! They attack with the fierceness of wolves—”evening wolves,” who haven’t eaten all day and thus are ravenous, attacking with a violence that is only exponentiated by the taste of blood. A feeding frenzy.

When they come to a walled city with an established king, they will not be impressed: king, schming (Hab 1.10). They’ll simply build siege ramps—“heap dust”—and overrun the walls.

And when they win—and they will win—they give themselves all the credit; they are mindless to the role of the God who has decreed and empowered their victory (Hab 1.11).

These are evil, evil people.

Now, this raises a second question, doesn’t it? We’ll include the last paragraph of chapter 1 with chapter 2 in the next post.

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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.

Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash