Original Meaning

David’s Campaigns (18:1–13)

THE CHRONICLER INSERTS “Gath and its surrounding villages” for “Metheg Ammah” (see 2 Sam. 8:1, a site of unknown location), presumably to update the parallel source for his audience. The six hundred Gittites among David’s mercenaries attests David’s subjugation of Gath (2 Sam. 15:18; cf. 1 Kings 2:39–40, which suggests Gath is still under some degree of Israelite control when King Solomon ascends the throne). Strategically, subduing the Philistines secures the western flank of David’s empire. The later delineation of the borders of Solomon’s empire seems to indicate that the Philistine territory lies outside Israelite domain and remains an autonomous political entity (cf. 1 Kings 4:21). The Chronicler reports Israel’s victory over Moab minus the account of David’s cruel treatment of the Moabites (1 Chron. 18:2; cf. 2 Sam. 8:2). In both cases David apparently leaves local leadership in place but imposes annual tribute (at least on Moab) as a satellite state of Israel.

The Chronicler preserves a more lengthy account of campaign against a coalition of Aramean states to the northeast (18:3–10). King Hadadezer has consolidated a kingdom that includes the regions of Beth Rehob, Zobah, and Hamath (located north and east of Dan and west of Damascus). The conflict between Israel and the Arameans is precipitated by Hadadezer’s raising of a monument (or boundary stone?) to register his claim on territory along the Euphrates River (18:3; cf. “he went to establish his control” [NIV]). David opposes Hadadezer’s declaration of sovereignty, perhaps because he has designs on controlling the trade route known as the King’s Highway (running from Sela in Edom to the city of Hamath through Damascus; this would explain David’s expansionist policy in the Transjordan against the Edomites, Moabites, and the Ammonites).

David deals Hadadezer a severe blow in a single battle but does not subdue the kingdom of Zobah. Chronicles reports that David captures 1,000 chariots (18:4; missing in the text of 2 Sam. 8:4 but restored in the NIV), 7,000 charioteers, and 20,000 foot soldiers.3 The Arameans of Damascus, apparently in league with the kingdom of Zobah, marshal troops to aid Hadadezer in his engagement with the Israelites (1 Chron 18:5). David and his army strike down 22,000 troops sent from Damascus and as a result establish garrisons in that city. Like the Moabites (18:2), the Arameans of Damascus become a tribute-paying vassal state to Israel (18:6).

Among the spoils David takes from Hadadezer and the cities of Zobah are large quantities of bronze.4 The Chronicler adds the fact that the booty is later used by Solomon in casting the bronze vessels for the temple (18:7–8). This not only provides further detail as to what became of the plunder, but also it is another way in which the Chronicler connects David to the preparations made for building Yahweh’s temple.

The news of Israel’s success against the kingdom of Zobah and the Arameans of Damascus prompts Tou, king of Hamath, to befriend King David with gifts of gold, silver, and bronze (18:9–10). This is likely more than a congratulatory gesture, although King Tou of Hamath (modern Hamah, 120 miles north of Damascus on the Orontes River) had been at war with King Hadadezer of Zobah. D. J. Wiseman has suggested that the mission of Tou’s son Hadoram (Joram in 2 Sam. 8:10) is a diplomatic move and the gifts of precious metals are intended to forge some kind of political alliance between King Tou and King David.5

The survey of David’s campaigns concludes with a brief report of the Edomite war (18:12–13). Edom becomes a satellite state of Israel like Aramean Damascus and Moab. Military garrisons are placed throughout Edom to ensure Israelite control of the territory. Although the text says nothing about Edomite tribute to Hebrew kings, it appears Edom is among the nations paying tribute to Israel during the reign of Solomon (cf. 1 Kings 4:21). The exploit report cites the heroics of Abishai (1 Chron. 18:12), but 2 Samuel 8:13 credits David and 1 Kings 11:15–16 vaunts Abishai’s brother Joab. Selman is probably correct to note that each of these warriors would have had differing responsibilities during the Edomite war in the overall chain of command (with Joab the field general [cf. 1 Chron. 19:8] and Abishai chief of the Three [11:20–21; cf. 2 Sam. 20:6–7]).6 Hence, all three play key roles in the victory over the Edomites.

More important to the Chronicler’s message is the theological commentary found at the midpoint and end of the chapter (18:6, 13). The God who “gave David victory” is the God of the Chronicler and postexilic Judah. That same blessing of divine approval awaits those who dedicate themselves in expectant faith to the spiritual and physical restoration of Jerusalem, even as King David dedicates the silver and gold plundered in war to the work of the Lord (18:11).

David’s Royal Cabinet (8:14–17)

Bridging Contexts

THE PECULIAR LITERARY genius of the Chronicler lies in his ability to retell Israelite history as a sermon. Understanding the report of David’s wars against the Philistines, Moabites, Arameans, and Ammonites in chapters 18–20 merely as the glorification of the Israelites as champions of good triumphing over the sinister forces of evil misses the point. Rather, as McConville has pointed out, a key Old Testament truth in the Chronicler’s proclamation to postexilic Judah through the recitation of David’s wars is that to oppose Israel is to oppose God.29

We should not read this passage as justifying war, “holy war” or otherwise. Israel was, of course, constituted a theocracy at Mount Sinai and hence was an instrument of both divine justice and the light of divine revelation in the ancient world as a nation-state (cf. Ex. 19:6; Isa. 49:6). The Christian church as the people of God, however, is not a political entity and has no role in bearing arms—though the church is called to a ministry as salt and light in a dark world (Matt. 5:13–14; Eph. 5:8).

McConville is correct in his assessment that the aim of warfare for the armies of Israel is “not destruction itself, but the establishment, or re-establishment, of a right order in the world, i.e., an order in which the nations serve the true people of God (19:19), and therefore, implicitly, recognize God himself.”30 The Hebrew poets and prophets associate this right order in the world with the “day of the LORD” and understand it to include the worship of Yahweh in Jerusalem by the nations (cf. Ps. 45:17; 86:9; Isa. 56:7; Mal. 1:14). The Chronicler is not espousing a type of liberation theology, calling for postexilic Judah to revolt and throw off the yoke of their Persian oppressors. Rather, he seeks to incite a spiritual revolution. He envisions establishing (or reestablishing) right order in Israel (and ultimately the world) through prayer and the revitalization of temple worship. In a way, the Chronicler anticipates the startling teaching of Jesus about the kingdom of God being an ethical and spiritual one—not a material and political kingdom (cf. Matt. 5:1–12; 21:31–32; Luke 17:20–21).

The Chronicler also knows that the battle belongs to the Lord (2 Chron. 20:15). Victory in war is not contingent on the physical strength or strategic ploys of Israel’s warrior-kings (cf. Prov. 21:31). Yahweh is the invincible warrior of Israel, not David. David himself knows Yahweh as a fortress, stronghold, deliverer, and shield (Ps. 144:1–2). Indeed, he is “the One who gives victory to kings” (Ps. 144:10). This too was established in the Exodus, when the Lord became a warrior for Israel against the Egyptians (Ex. 15:3). So Moses confidently instructed his people that “the LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still” (14:14).

It is in light of this background that the Israelite historians declare that “the LORD gave David victory wherever he went” (2 Sam. 8:6, 14; 1 Chron. 18:6, 13). It is on the basis of this knowledge that David’s general Joab exhorts his troops to “fight bravely” as he prays for God to “do what is good in his sight” (1 Chron. 19:13). The result of numerous personal experiences is that God reaches “down … from on high” and rescues David, so that the king himself sings of Yahweh as his deliverer (Ps. 144:7; cf. 3:7–8; 31:1, 15). The staunch testimony of David the warrior-shepherd echoes through the Chronicler’s accounts of David the warrior-king: “The LORD who delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine [Goliath]” (1 Sam. 17:37).

Contemporary Significance

Contemporary Significance

CHRISTUS VICTOR. The warfare motif is not restricted to the Old Testament. The church at Ephesus learned about spiritual warfare from the apostle Paul, an ongoing cosmic battle between God and the unseen powers of evil (Eph. 6:11–12; cf. 2 Cor. 10:3–4). From one perspective, the theology of the entire New Testament can be understood in terms of “a titanic conflict between God and Satan.”31 More specifically, according to Ladd, the theology of the kingdom of God proclaimed in the Gospels and embodied in the church of Jesus Christ “is essentially one of conflict and conquest over the kingdom of Satan.”32 The eschatological kingdom of God ushered in at the parousia or second coming of Jesus Christ will result in a new heaven and earth and rid evil from God’s creation once and for all (cf. Rev. 21:1–4). In fact, according to Paul, Jesus Christ will yield his kingdom to the Father only after he has defeated all dominions and powers, subdued all his enemies, and destroyed the last enemy—death (1 Cor. 15:21–26).

As was the case in the Old Testament with David’s wars, so too the battle belongs to God in the New Testament era. King David sang with joyful confidence that “with God we will gain the victory” (Ps. 60:12).33 In like manner, the apostle Paul rejoiced with the Corinthian church that God “gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” over sin and death (1 Cor. 15:57).

This biblical motif of warfare and the extensive military vocabulary applied to theological contexts in the Old and New Testaments have given rise to Aulén’s “classic” idea of the atonement as a cosmic drama of divine conflict and victory. This so-called “Christus Victor” view of the atonement understands the redemptive work of Jesus Christ as a battle against and a triumph over the evil powers of the world.34 The reason for the incarnation was so that Christ might “destroy the devil’s work” (1 John 3:8). It was by means of the cross that Jesus Christ “disarmed the powers and authorities … triumphing over them” (Col. 2:15).

The Chronicler’s section treating David’s wars serves to remind us that we, like David, need a comprehensive “warfare worldview.” For many of us who trace our Christian heritage to the Reformation, this may entail a rethinking of the primary significance of Christ’s death and resurrection. Since the time of Anselm (c. 1033–1109), Western Christianity has focused attention almost exclusively on the anthropological aspect of Christ’s sacrificial ministry.35 That is, Christ’s death on the cross is understood in the juridical sense as a propitiation (i.e., the turning away of God’s wrath by means of an offering) or “atonement for the sins of the people” (cf. Heb. 2:17). The cross of Christ satisfies the demands of God’s holiness and justice as a payment delivering the Christian from slavery to sin and death (cf. Rom. 8:34; Heb. 7:25). The anthropological dimension of the cross emphasizes personal salvation, the individual Christian’s redemption secured by the ransom of Christ’s life (cf. Matt. 20:28; Mark 10:45).

Aulén, and more recently Boyd, have cogently argued that the cross should be viewed fundamentally from a theocentric perspective. By that Boyd means recognizing that “the cross is first and foremost a cosmic event—it defeats Satan.”36 The anthropological dimension of Christ’s work (i.e., his substitutionary death for sinful humanity) is thus a consequence of this cosmic victory over the devil (cf. Heb. 2:14). Even more than reconciling fallen humanity to himself, through the cross of Christ, God reconciles to himself “all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven” (Col. 1:20). For Boyd, “the cross was a cosmic event that defeated the enemies of God, enthroned the Son of God, and thereby in principle liberated the whole cosmos from its bondage to an illegitimate evil ruler.”37

But what about the application of this “warfare worldview” to contemporary Christianity? What does “Christus Victor” mean for Christians in the twenty-first century? An exhaustive answer to these questions is beyond the scope of our study. There are, however, important lessons to be learned from Aulén’s proposal concerning the atonement.

For example, the Christus Victor understanding of Christ’s cross offers an antidote for the self-absorption promoted by our culture of narcissism. The Christian subculture is not immune to the insidious influences of popular culture, sometimes falling prey to the same self-interest that now defines the American experience. The theocentric dimension of Christ’s atonement brings perspective to “personal salvation” by placing “my redemption” in the larger context of God’s universal and cosmic work of reconciling “all things” to himself. Such an approach discourages attitudes of egocentrism and ethnocentrism because the warfare worldview glorifies God as the Redeemer and locates the individual Christian among the people of God—a member of the body of Christ.

The Christus Victor theology reassures us as Christians that Christ will indeed build his church, “and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (Matt. 16:18). C. S. Lewis predicted that in the final conflict between religions, “Hinduism and Christianity would offer the only viable options because Hinduism absorbs all religious systems, and Christianity excludes all others, maintaining the supremacy of the claims of Christ.”38 Lewis may be excused for failing to foresee the role of militant Islam in the “final conflict between religions,” projecting into the future from his vantage point of the 1940s. He did correctly recognize, however, that the religious battle lines are ultimately drawn along the issues of inclusivity and tolerance versus exclusivity and intolerance. The pluralism and relativism of postmodernity has brought us to the very threshold of that final conflict between religions. As Christianity continues to be marginalized in our postmodern and post-Christian world, the reminder that Christ has defeated “the powers and authorities” is a wellspring of encouragement and hope for the church.

The New Testament indicates that the Christian life is spiritual warfare (Eph. 6:12). At the cross Christ defeated the enemies of God de jure, but the church awaits that day of consummation when all the enemies of God are destroyed de facto. During the interim, the Christian lives in the tension between “the now and the yet-to-come,” for the “god of this age” (2 Cor. 4:4) still “prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8).

Nevertheless, we are not defenseless as we await the blessed hope and glorious appearing of Jesus Christ (Titus 2:13). Christ has made gracious provision for us as we engage the “powers” in spiritual warfare, equipping us with everything needed for life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3). Those provisions for spiritual battle include the “full armor of God” (Eph. 6:13–17) and the enabling work of the indwelling Holy Spirit (6:18). Such armament and the aid of God’s helping Spirit guarantees our victory against the evil one (6:16).

But such effective armament is of little value if it is not worn in battle (Eph. 6:11). The Christus Victor theology confronts the free agency of persons made in God’s image and forces the issue of human responsibility. The Christian can be victorious in spiritual warfare with Satan only to the degree he or she declares allegiance to God and chooses to “put on the full armor of God” (6:11), to “stand firm” (6:14), to “take up” the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit (6:16), and to “pray in the Spirit” (6:18). In fact, Aulén was persuaded “that no form of Christian teaching has any future before it except such as can keep steadily in view the reality of evil in the world, and go to meet the evil with a battle-song of triumph.”39 Clearly, the idea of Christus Victor and the warfare worldview brings new relevance to the lyrics of Isaac Watts’s hymn “Am I a Soldier of the Cross?” (esp. verse 3):

Are there no foes for me to face?

Must I not stem the flood?

Is this vile world a friend to grace,

to help me on to God?

Finally, the idea of Christus Victor should revitalize our prayer life and our worship. Christ is now seated at God’s “right hand” (Rom. 8:34; Col. 3:1; Heb. 1:3; 10:12; 12:2). As a result of his death and resurrection, Jesus has driven out the prince of this world. His enthronement at God’s right hand is a position of power and authority over all God’s enemies. The implications of this truth are profound, especially as we pray for God to “deliver us from the evil one” (Matt. 6:13). The cross means God is both willing and able to do just that, to deliver us from our true enemy. We are truly “more than conquerors” in all things because Christ has defeated all the “powers” (Rom. 8:37–39).

And what about our worship? One need only catch a glimpse of the heavenly worship portrayed in John’s Apocalypse:

Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain,

to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength

and honor and glory and praise! (Rev. 5:12)

To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb

be praise and honor and glory and power,

for ever and ever! (Rev. 5:13)

Salvation belongs to our God,

who sits on the throne,

and to the Lamb. (Rev. 7:10)

Original Meaning

David’s Campaigns (18:1–13)

THE CHRONICLER INSERTS “Gath and its surrounding villages” for “Metheg Ammah” (see 2 Sam. 8:1, a site of unknown location), presumably to update the parallel source for his audience. The six hundred Gittites among David’s mercenaries attests David’s subjugation of Gath (2 Sam. 15:18; cf. 1 Kings 2:39–40, which suggests Gath is still under some degree of Israelite control when King Solomon ascends the throne). Strategically, subduing the Philistines secures the western flank of David’s empire. The later delineation of the borders of Solomon’s empire seems to indicate that the Philistine territory lies outside Israelite domain and remains an autonomous political entity (cf. 1 Kings 4:21). The Chronicler reports Israel’s victory over Moab minus the account of David’s cruel treatment of the Moabites (1 Chron. 18:2; cf. 2 Sam. 8:2). In both cases David apparently leaves local leadership in place but imposes annual tribute (at least on Moab) as a satellite state of Israel.

The Chronicler preserves a more lengthy account of campaign against a coalition of Aramean states to the northeast (18:3–10). King Hadadezer has consolidated a kingdom that includes the regions of Beth Rehob, Zobah, and Hamath (located north and east of Dan and west of Damascus). The conflict between Israel and the Arameans is precipitated by Hadadezer’s raising of a monument (or boundary stone?) to register his claim on territory along the Euphrates River (18:3; cf. “he went to establish his control” [NIV]). David opposes Hadadezer’s declaration of sovereignty, perhaps because he has designs on controlling the trade route known as the King’s Highway (running from Sela in Edom to the city of Hamath through Damascus; this would explain David’s expansionist policy in the Transjordan against the Edomites, Moabites, and the Ammonites).

David deals Hadadezer a severe blow in a single battle but does not subdue the kingdom of Zobah. Chronicles reports that David captures 1,000 chariots (18:4; missing in the text of 2 Sam. 8:4 but restored in the NIV), 7,000 charioteers, and 20,000 foot soldiers.3 The Arameans of Damascus, apparently in league with the kingdom of Zobah, marshal troops to aid Hadadezer in his engagement with the Israelites (1 Chron 18:5). David and his army strike down 22,000 troops sent from Damascus and as a result establish garrisons in that city. Like the Moabites (18:2), the Arameans of Damascus become a tribute-paying vassal state to Israel (18:6).

Among the spoils David takes from Hadadezer and the cities of Zobah are large quantities of bronze.4 The Chronicler adds the fact that the booty is later used by Solomon in casting the bronze vessels for the temple (18:7–8). This not only provides further detail as to what became of the plunder, but also it is another way in which the Chronicler connects David to the preparations made for building Yahweh’s temple.

The news of Israel’s success against the kingdom of Zobah and the Arameans of Damascus prompts Tou, king of Hamath, to befriend King David with gifts of gold, silver, and bronze (18:9–10). This is likely more than a congratulatory gesture, although King Tou of Hamath (modern Hamah, 120 miles north of Damascus on the Orontes River) had been at war with King Hadadezer of Zobah. D. J. Wiseman has suggested that the mission of Tou’s son Hadoram (Joram in 2 Sam. 8:10) is a diplomatic move and the gifts of precious metals are intended to forge some kind of political alliance between King Tou and King David.5

The survey of David’s campaigns concludes with a brief report of the Edomite war (18:12–13). Edom becomes a satellite state of Israel like Aramean Damascus and Moab. Military garrisons are placed throughout Edom to ensure Israelite control of the territory. Although the text says nothing about Edomite tribute to Hebrew kings, it appears Edom is among the nations paying tribute to Israel during the reign of Solomon (cf. 1 Kings 4:21). The exploit report cites the heroics of Abishai (1 Chron. 18:12), but 2 Samuel 8:13 credits David and 1 Kings 11:15–16 vaunts Abishai’s brother Joab. Selman is probably correct to note that each of these warriors would have had differing responsibilities during the Edomite war in the overall chain of command (with Joab the field general [cf. 1 Chron. 19:8] and Abishai chief of the Three [11:20–21; cf. 2 Sam. 20:6–7]).6 Hence, all three play key roles in the victory over the Edomites.

More important to the Chronicler’s message is the theological commentary found at the midpoint and end of the chapter (18:6, 13). The God who “gave David victory” is the God of the Chronicler and postexilic Judah. That same blessing of divine approval awaits those who dedicate themselves in expectant faith to the spiritual and physical restoration of Jerusalem, even as King David dedicates the silver and gold plundered in war to the work of the Lord (18:11).

David’s Royal Cabinet (8:14–17)

Bridging Contexts

THE PECULIAR LITERARY genius of the Chronicler lies in his ability to retell Israelite history as a sermon. Understanding the report of David’s wars against the Philistines, Moabites, Arameans, and Ammonites in chapters 18–20 merely as the glorification of the Israelites as champions of good triumphing over the sinister forces of evil misses the point. Rather, as McConville has pointed out, a key Old Testament truth in the Chronicler’s proclamation to postexilic Judah through the recitation of David’s wars is that to oppose Israel is to oppose God.29

We should not read this passage as justifying war, “holy war” or otherwise. Israel was, of course, constituted a theocracy at Mount Sinai and hence was an instrument of both divine justice and the light of divine revelation in the ancient world as a nation-state (cf. Ex. 19:6; Isa. 49:6). The Christian church as the people of God, however, is not a political entity and has no role in bearing arms—though the church is called to a ministry as salt and light in a dark world (Matt. 5:13–14; Eph. 5:8).

McConville is correct in his assessment that the aim of warfare for the armies of Israel is “not destruction itself, but the establishment, or re-establishment, of a right order in the world, i.e., an order in which the nations serve the true people of God (19:19), and therefore, implicitly, recognize God himself.”30 The Hebrew poets and prophets associate this right order in the world with the “day of the LORD” and understand it to include the worship of Yahweh in Jerusalem by the nations (cf. Ps. 45:17; 86:9; Isa. 56:7; Mal. 1:14). The Chronicler is not espousing a type of liberation theology, calling for postexilic Judah to revolt and throw off the yoke of their Persian oppressors. Rather, he seeks to incite a spiritual revolution. He envisions establishing (or reestablishing) right order in Israel (and ultimately the world) through prayer and the revitalization of temple worship. In a way, the Chronicler anticipates the startling teaching of Jesus about the kingdom of God being an ethical and spiritual one—not a material and political kingdom (cf. Matt. 5:1–12; 21:31–32; Luke 17:20–21).

The Chronicler also knows that the battle belongs to the Lord (2 Chron. 20:15). Victory in war is not contingent on the physical strength or strategic ploys of Israel’s warrior-kings (cf. Prov. 21:31). Yahweh is the invincible warrior of Israel, not David. David himself knows Yahweh as a fortress, stronghold, deliverer, and shield (Ps. 144:1–2). Indeed, he is “the One who gives victory to kings” (Ps. 144:10). This too was established in the Exodus, when the Lord became a warrior for Israel against the Egyptians (Ex. 15:3). So Moses confidently instructed his people that “the LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still” (14:14).

It is in light of this background that the Israelite historians declare that “the LORD gave David victory wherever he went” (2 Sam. 8:6, 14; 1 Chron. 18:6, 13). It is on the basis of this knowledge that David’s general Joab exhorts his troops to “fight bravely” as he prays for God to “do what is good in his sight” (1 Chron. 19:13). The result of numerous personal experiences is that God reaches “down … from on high” and rescues David, so that the king himself sings of Yahweh as his deliverer (Ps. 144:7; cf. 3:7–8; 31:1, 15). The staunch testimony of David the warrior-shepherd echoes through the Chronicler’s accounts of David the warrior-king: “The LORD who delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine [Goliath]” (1 Sam. 17:37).

Contemporary Significance

Contemporary Significance

CHRISTUS VICTOR. The warfare motif is not restricted to the Old Testament. The church at Ephesus learned about spiritual warfare from the apostle Paul, an ongoing cosmic battle between God and the unseen powers of evil (Eph. 6:11–12; cf. 2 Cor. 10:3–4). From one perspective, the theology of the entire New Testament can be understood in terms of “a titanic conflict between God and Satan.”31 More specifically, according to Ladd, the theology of the kingdom of God proclaimed in the Gospels and embodied in the church of Jesus Christ “is essentially one of conflict and conquest over the kingdom of Satan.”32 The eschatological kingdom of God ushered in at the parousia or second coming of Jesus Christ will result in a new heaven and earth and rid evil from God’s creation once and for all (cf. Rev. 21:1–4). In fact, according to Paul, Jesus Christ will yield his kingdom to the Father only after he has defeated all dominions and powers, subdued all his enemies, and destroyed the last enemy—death (1 Cor. 15:21–26).

As was the case in the Old Testament with David’s wars, so too the battle belongs to God in the New Testament era. King David sang with joyful confidence that “with God we will gain the victory” (Ps. 60:12).33 In like manner, the apostle Paul rejoiced with the Corinthian church that God “gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” over sin and death (1 Cor. 15:57).

This biblical motif of warfare and the extensive military vocabulary applied to theological contexts in the Old and New Testaments have given rise to Aulén’s “classic” idea of the atonement as a cosmic drama of divine conflict and victory. This so-called “Christus Victor” view of the atonement understands the redemptive work of Jesus Christ as a battle against and a triumph over the evil powers of the world.34 The reason for the incarnation was so that Christ might “destroy the devil’s work” (1 John 3:8). It was by means of the cross that Jesus Christ “disarmed the powers and authorities … triumphing over them” (Col. 2:15).

The Chronicler’s section treating David’s wars serves to remind us that we, like David, need a comprehensive “warfare worldview.” For many of us who trace our Christian heritage to the Reformation, this may entail a rethinking of the primary significance of Christ’s death and resurrection. Since the time of Anselm (c. 1033–1109), Western Christianity has focused attention almost exclusively on the anthropological aspect of Christ’s sacrificial ministry.35 That is, Christ’s death on the cross is understood in the juridical sense as a propitiation (i.e., the turning away of God’s wrath by means of an offering) or “atonement for the sins of the people” (cf. Heb. 2:17). The cross of Christ satisfies the demands of God’s holiness and justice as a payment delivering the Christian from slavery to sin and death (cf. Rom. 8:34; Heb. 7:25). The anthropological dimension of the cross emphasizes personal salvation, the individual Christian’s redemption secured by the ransom of Christ’s life (cf. Matt. 20:28; Mark 10:45).

Aulén, and more recently Boyd, have cogently argued that the cross should be viewed fundamentally from a theocentric perspective. By that Boyd means recognizing that “the cross is first and foremost a cosmic event—it defeats Satan.”36 The anthropological dimension of Christ’s work (i.e., his substitutionary death for sinful humanity) is thus a consequence of this cosmic victory over the devil (cf. Heb. 2:14). Even more than reconciling fallen humanity to himself, through the cross of Christ, God reconciles to himself “all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven” (Col. 1:20). For Boyd, “the cross was a cosmic event that defeated the enemies of God, enthroned the Son of God, and thereby in principle liberated the whole cosmos from its bondage to an illegitimate evil ruler.”37

But what about the application of this “warfare worldview” to contemporary Christianity? What does “Christus Victor” mean for Christians in the twenty-first century? An exhaustive answer to these questions is beyond the scope of our study. There are, however, important lessons to be learned from Aulén’s proposal concerning the atonement.

For example, the Christus Victor understanding of Christ’s cross offers an antidote for the self-absorption promoted by our culture of narcissism. The Christian subculture is not immune to the insidious influences of popular culture, sometimes falling prey to the same self-interest that now defines the American experience. The theocentric dimension of Christ’s atonement brings perspective to “personal salvation” by placing “my redemption” in the larger context of God’s universal and cosmic work of reconciling “all things” to himself. Such an approach discourages attitudes of egocentrism and ethnocentrism because the warfare worldview glorifies God as the Redeemer and locates the individual Christian among the people of God—a member of the body of Christ.

The Christus Victor theology reassures us as Christians that Christ will indeed build his church, “and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (Matt. 16:18). C. S. Lewis predicted that in the final conflict between religions, “Hinduism and Christianity would offer the only viable options because Hinduism absorbs all religious systems, and Christianity excludes all others, maintaining the supremacy of the claims of Christ.”38 Lewis may be excused for failing to foresee the role of militant Islam in the “final conflict between religions,” projecting into the future from his vantage point of the 1940s. He did correctly recognize, however, that the religious battle lines are ultimately drawn along the issues of inclusivity and tolerance versus exclusivity and intolerance. The pluralism and relativism of postmodernity has brought us to the very threshold of that final conflict between religions. As Christianity continues to be marginalized in our postmodern and post-Christian world, the reminder that Christ has defeated “the powers and authorities” is a wellspring of encouragement and hope for the church.

The New Testament indicates that the Christian life is spiritual warfare (Eph. 6:12). At the cross Christ defeated the enemies of God de jure, but the church awaits that day of consummation when all the enemies of God are destroyed de facto. During the interim, the Christian lives in the tension between “the now and the yet-to-come,” for the “god of this age” (2 Cor. 4:4) still “prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8).

Nevertheless, we are not defenseless as we await the blessed hope and glorious appearing of Jesus Christ (Titus 2:13). Christ has made gracious provision for us as we engage the “powers” in spiritual warfare, equipping us with everything needed for life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3). Those provisions for spiritual battle include the “full armor of God” (Eph. 6:13–17) and the enabling work of the indwelling Holy Spirit (6:18). Such armament and the aid of God’s helping Spirit guarantees our victory against the evil one (6:16).

But such effective armament is of little value if it is not worn in battle (Eph. 6:11). The Christus Victor theology confronts the free agency of persons made in God’s image and forces the issue of human responsibility. The Christian can be victorious in spiritual warfare with Satan only to the degree he or she declares allegiance to God and chooses to “put on the full armor of God” (6:11), to “stand firm” (6:14), to “take up” the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit (6:16), and to “pray in the Spirit” (6:18). In fact, Aulén was persuaded “that no form of Christian teaching has any future before it except such as can keep steadily in view the reality of evil in the world, and go to meet the evil with a battle-song of triumph.”39 Clearly, the idea of Christus Victor and the warfare worldview brings new relevance to the lyrics of Isaac Watts’s hymn “Am I a Soldier of the Cross?” (esp. verse 3):

Are there no foes for me to face?

Must I not stem the flood?

Is this vile world a friend to grace,

to help me on to God?

Finally, the idea of Christus Victor should revitalize our prayer life and our worship. Christ is now seated at God’s “right hand” (Rom. 8:34; Col. 3:1; Heb. 1:3; 10:12; 12:2). As a result of his death and resurrection, Jesus has driven out the prince of this world. His enthronement at God’s right hand is a position of power and authority over all God’s enemies. The implications of this truth are profound, especially as we pray for God to “deliver us from the evil one” (Matt. 6:13). The cross means God is both willing and able to do just that, to deliver us from our true enemy. We are truly “more than conquerors” in all things because Christ has defeated all the “powers” (Rom. 8:37–39).

And what about our worship? One need only catch a glimpse of the heavenly worship portrayed in John’s Apocalypse:

Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain,

to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength

and honor and glory and praise! (Rev. 5:12)

To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb

be praise and honor and glory and power,

for ever and ever! (Rev. 5:13)

Salvation belongs to our God,

who sits on the throne,

and to the Lamb. (Rev. 7:10)

Original Meaning

David’s Royal Cabinet (8:14–17)

THE NIV INCLUDES 18:14 in this section as an introduction to the catalog of King David’s officers, recognizing the organizational structure as a demonstration of his “just and right” rule. Some scholars mark the paragraph break at 18:15, arguing that the summary statement characterizing David’s reign better serves as the conclusion to the report of David’s victories on the battlefield.7 The theological assessment of David’s reign may serve double duty, functioning as a summary statement to the report of David’s wars and as an introduction to the roster of the king’s primary advisers (so Japhet).8 The remark does stress the fact that David rules over “all Israel,” an important theme in the Chronicler’s retelling of Israelite history. The statement also stresses that David’s reign is one of justice and righteousness. According to Japhet, this confirms that David has satisfied the Israelites’ expectations of the ideal king.9 Doing what is “just and right” becomes the standard by which later kings are measured (cf. Jer. 22:15) and the model for future Davidic kingship (cf. Jer. 23:5).

The list of royal cabinet members is borrowed directly from 2 Samuel 8:15–18 (cf. also 20:23–26). This naming of the royal bureaucracy is not directly related to the accounts of David’s wars, but there are logical connections between territorial expansion and the need for administrative oversight of the Israelite empire. The source for the Israelite administrative model remains a topic of scholarly debate, with both Egyptian and Canaanite governments suggested as likely paradigms.10 Selman correctly reminds us, however, that native Hebrew developments in the political structure of the Israelite empire should not be overlooked.11

Three distinct “departments” comprise David’s royal cabinet: a war office, a priestly office, and an administrative office. Joab becomes David’s general (cf. 2 Sam. 3:22–27) and is briefly displaced by Amasa after Joab disobeys the king’s command and executes the rebel Absalom (2 Sam. 19:13). Joab later assassinates Amasa and usurps the role of general (2 Sam. 20:8–13). King David never forgives Joab for these two crimes and instructs Solomon, upon his accession to the throne, to execute Joab (cf. 1 Kings 2:34). Solomon then elevates Benaiah son of Jehoiada (1 Chron. 18:17) to the cabinet post of general (1 Kings 2:35).

Abiathar and Zadok (18:16) appear to function as joint high priests after the massacre of the priestly clan at Nob by King Saul (1 Sam. 22:20). The emergence of Zadok as a priestly figure in Israel is a matter of considerable scholarly discussion. It is possible David appoints Abiathar as a priestly representative for tribal Israel, while Zadok represents the remnant of an indigenous priesthood centered in Jerusalem that is absorbed by the Israelites when David conquers the city.12 Since both Zadok and Abiathar are linked to one Ahitub, it is also possible that both escaped the massacre at Nob. In any event, Abiathar is later exiled as a result of his loyalty to Adonijah in the question of David’s successor and Zadok becomes chief priest in Solomon’s administration (1 Kings 2:26–27). It should be noted that the books of Kings and Chronicles remember Abiathar and Zadok as priests and key members of the royal cabinet of David and Solomon (1 Kings 4:4; 1 Chron. 18:16).

The cabinet post of “secretary” or “recorder” (NASB) may have been a position similar to that of the royal herald in the Egyptian court. The herald was a personal secretary to the pharaoh in charge of royal protocol and served as the public spokesman for the monarchy.13 The cabinet office of “secretary” functioned as the royal scribe and was responsible for all official correspondence (during the divided monarchy the duties of the secretary included financial oversight of temple funds and military conscription, cf. 2 Kings 12:10; 18:18; 25:19). The Kerethites and the Pelethites (1 Chron. 18:17)—that is, Cretan and Philistine mercenaries—serve as the royal bodyguard (cf. 2 Sam. 15:18; 20:7).

Controversy surrounds the role of David’s sons in the royal cabinet at two levels. (1) There is some question as to whether the text refers to the “eldest sons” as officials of King David (so NEB) or to the sons of David as “chief officials” of the king (so NIV, NRSV). The latter reading is preferred by the majority of commentators and by this writer as well.14

(2) The Chronicler deviates from 2 Samuel 8:18 in identifying the sons of David as “chief officials” (hariʾ šonim, 1 Chron. 18:16) instead of “priests” (kohanim; cf. NIV “royal advisers”). Japhet argues that the sons of David are unacceptable to the Chronicler as “priests” because they are not of Levitical lineage.15 Thompson contends the text of 2 Samuel 8:18 is corrupt in that the term for priest (kohen) was mistaken with the term for “administrator” (soken).16 Selman seeks to mediate the extremes by suggesting David’s sons are non-Levitical priests, who function as the king’s personal priests or as “royal chaplains.”17

There is little reason to doubt the text of 2 Samuel 8:18. It is also clear that King David violates several of the prescriptions for Hebrew kingship outlined by Moses (e.g., the prohibition against taking many wives, cf. Deut. 17:14–20). Why is it surprising that David would appoint his sons as “priests” of some sort when he himself usurped the role of priest on occasion (cf. 1 Chron. 15:27; 16:2–3)? Selman may be correct in his assumption that, as priests, David’s sons have duties that differ from the Levitical priesthood.18

War against the Ammonites (19:1–20:3)

Bridging Contexts

THE PECULIAR LITERARY genius of the Chronicler lies in his ability to retell Israelite history as a sermon. Understanding the report of David’s wars against the Philistines, Moabites, Arameans, and Ammonites in chapters 18–20 merely as the glorification of the Israelites as champions of good triumphing over the sinister forces of evil misses the point. Rather, as McConville has pointed out, a key Old Testament truth in the Chronicler’s proclamation to postexilic Judah through the recitation of David’s wars is that to oppose Israel is to oppose God.29

We should not read this passage as justifying war, “holy war” or otherwise. Israel was, of course, constituted a theocracy at Mount Sinai and hence was an instrument of both divine justice and the light of divine revelation in the ancient world as a nation-state (cf. Ex. 19:6; Isa. 49:6). The Christian church as the people of God, however, is not a political entity and has no role in bearing arms—though the church is called to a ministry as salt and light in a dark world (Matt. 5:13–14; Eph. 5:8).

McConville is correct in his assessment that the aim of warfare for the armies of Israel is “not destruction itself, but the establishment, or re-establishment, of a right order in the world, i.e., an order in which the nations serve the true people of God (19:19), and therefore, implicitly, recognize God himself.”30 The Hebrew poets and prophets associate this right order in the world with the “day of the LORD” and understand it to include the worship of Yahweh in Jerusalem by the nations (cf. Ps. 45:17; 86:9; Isa. 56:7; Mal. 1:14). The Chronicler is not espousing a type of liberation theology, calling for postexilic Judah to revolt and throw off the yoke of their Persian oppressors. Rather, he seeks to incite a spiritual revolution. He envisions establishing (or reestablishing) right order in Israel (and ultimately the world) through prayer and the revitalization of temple worship. In a way, the Chronicler anticipates the startling teaching of Jesus about the kingdom of God being an ethical and spiritual one—not a material and political kingdom (cf. Matt. 5:1–12; 21:31–32; Luke 17:20–21).

The Chronicler also knows that the battle belongs to the Lord (2 Chron. 20:15). Victory in war is not contingent on the physical strength or strategic ploys of Israel’s warrior-kings (cf. Prov. 21:31). Yahweh is the invincible warrior of Israel, not David. David himself knows Yahweh as a fortress, stronghold, deliverer, and shield (Ps. 144:1–2). Indeed, he is “the One who gives victory to kings” (Ps. 144:10). This too was established in the Exodus, when the Lord became a warrior for Israel against the Egyptians (Ex. 15:3). So Moses confidently instructed his people that “the LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still” (14:14).

It is in light of this background that the Israelite historians declare that “the LORD gave David victory wherever he went” (2 Sam. 8:6, 14; 1 Chron. 18:6, 13). It is on the basis of this knowledge that David’s general Joab exhorts his troops to “fight bravely” as he prays for God to “do what is good in his sight” (1 Chron. 19:13). The result of numerous personal experiences is that God reaches “down … from on high” and rescues David, so that the king himself sings of Yahweh as his deliverer (Ps. 144:7; cf. 3:7–8; 31:1, 15). The staunch testimony of David the warrior-shepherd echoes through the Chronicler’s accounts of David the warrior-king: “The LORD who delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine [Goliath]” (1 Sam. 17:37).

Contemporary Significance

Contemporary Significance

CHRISTUS VICTOR. The warfare motif is not restricted to the Old Testament. The church at Ephesus learned about spiritual warfare from the apostle Paul, an ongoing cosmic battle between God and the unseen powers of evil (Eph. 6:11–12; cf. 2 Cor. 10:3–4). From one perspective, the theology of the entire New Testament can be understood in terms of “a titanic conflict between God and Satan.”31 More specifically, according to Ladd, the theology of the kingdom of God proclaimed in the Gospels and embodied in the church of Jesus Christ “is essentially one of conflict and conquest over the kingdom of Satan.”32 The eschatological kingdom of God ushered in at the parousia or second coming of Jesus Christ will result in a new heaven and earth and rid evil from God’s creation once and for all (cf. Rev. 21:1–4). In fact, according to Paul, Jesus Christ will yield his kingdom to the Father only after he has defeated all dominions and powers, subdued all his enemies, and destroyed the last enemy—death (1 Cor. 15:21–26).

As was the case in the Old Testament with David’s wars, so too the battle belongs to God in the New Testament era. King David sang with joyful confidence that “with God we will gain the victory” (Ps. 60:12).33 In like manner, the apostle Paul rejoiced with the Corinthian church that God “gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” over sin and death (1 Cor. 15:57).

This biblical motif of warfare and the extensive military vocabulary applied to theological contexts in the Old and New Testaments have given rise to Aulén’s “classic” idea of the atonement as a cosmic drama of divine conflict and victory. This so-called “Christus Victor” view of the atonement understands the redemptive work of Jesus Christ as a battle against and a triumph over the evil powers of the world.34 The reason for the incarnation was so that Christ might “destroy the devil’s work” (1 John 3:8). It was by means of the cross that Jesus Christ “disarmed the powers and authorities … triumphing over them” (Col. 2:15).

The Chronicler’s section treating David’s wars serves to remind us that we, like David, need a comprehensive “warfare worldview.” For many of us who trace our Christian heritage to the Reformation, this may entail a rethinking of the primary significance of Christ’s death and resurrection. Since the time of Anselm (c. 1033–1109), Western Christianity has focused attention almost exclusively on the anthropological aspect of Christ’s sacrificial ministry.35 That is, Christ’s death on the cross is understood in the juridical sense as a propitiation (i.e., the turning away of God’s wrath by means of an offering) or “atonement for the sins of the people” (cf. Heb. 2:17). The cross of Christ satisfies the demands of God’s holiness and justice as a payment delivering the Christian from slavery to sin and death (cf. Rom. 8:34; Heb. 7:25). The anthropological dimension of the cross emphasizes personal salvation, the individual Christian’s redemption secured by the ransom of Christ’s life (cf. Matt. 20:28; Mark 10:45).

Aulén, and more recently Boyd, have cogently argued that the cross should be viewed fundamentally from a theocentric perspective. By that Boyd means recognizing that “the cross is first and foremost a cosmic event—it defeats Satan.”36 The anthropological dimension of Christ’s work (i.e., his substitutionary death for sinful humanity) is thus a consequence of this cosmic victory over the devil (cf. Heb. 2:14). Even more than reconciling fallen humanity to himself, through the cross of Christ, God reconciles to himself “all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven” (Col. 1:20). For Boyd, “the cross was a cosmic event that defeated the enemies of God, enthroned the Son of God, and thereby in principle liberated the whole cosmos from its bondage to an illegitimate evil ruler.”37

But what about the application of this “warfare worldview” to contemporary Christianity? What does “Christus Victor” mean for Christians in the twenty-first century? An exhaustive answer to these questions is beyond the scope of our study. There are, however, important lessons to be learned from Aulén’s proposal concerning the atonement.

For example, the Christus Victor understanding of Christ’s cross offers an antidote for the self-absorption promoted by our culture of narcissism. The Christian subculture is not immune to the insidious influences of popular culture, sometimes falling prey to the same self-interest that now defines the American experience. The theocentric dimension of Christ’s atonement brings perspective to “personal salvation” by placing “my redemption” in the larger context of God’s universal and cosmic work of reconciling “all things” to himself. Such an approach discourages attitudes of egocentrism and ethnocentrism because the warfare worldview glorifies God as the Redeemer and locates the individual Christian among the people of God—a member of the body of Christ.

The Christus Victor theology reassures us as Christians that Christ will indeed build his church, “and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (Matt. 16:18). C. S. Lewis predicted that in the final conflict between religions, “Hinduism and Christianity would offer the only viable options because Hinduism absorbs all religious systems, and Christianity excludes all others, maintaining the supremacy of the claims of Christ.”38 Lewis may be excused for failing to foresee the role of militant Islam in the “final conflict between religions,” projecting into the future from his vantage point of the 1940s. He did correctly recognize, however, that the religious battle lines are ultimately drawn along the issues of inclusivity and tolerance versus exclusivity and intolerance. The pluralism and relativism of postmodernity has brought us to the very threshold of that final conflict between religions. As Christianity continues to be marginalized in our postmodern and post-Christian world, the reminder that Christ has defeated “the powers and authorities” is a wellspring of encouragement and hope for the church.

The New Testament indicates that the Christian life is spiritual warfare (Eph. 6:12). At the cross Christ defeated the enemies of God de jure, but the church awaits that day of consummation when all the enemies of God are destroyed de facto. During the interim, the Christian lives in the tension between “the now and the yet-to-come,” for the “god of this age” (2 Cor. 4:4) still “prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8).

Nevertheless, we are not defenseless as we await the blessed hope and glorious appearing of Jesus Christ (Titus 2:13). Christ has made gracious provision for us as we engage the “powers” in spiritual warfare, equipping us with everything needed for life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3). Those provisions for spiritual battle include the “full armor of God” (Eph. 6:13–17) and the enabling work of the indwelling Holy Spirit (6:18). Such armament and the aid of God’s helping Spirit guarantees our victory against the evil one (6:16).

But such effective armament is of little value if it is not worn in battle (Eph. 6:11). The Christus Victor theology confronts the free agency of persons made in God’s image and forces the issue of human responsibility. The Christian can be victorious in spiritual warfare with Satan only to the degree he or she declares allegiance to God and chooses to “put on the full armor of God” (6:11), to “stand firm” (6:14), to “take up” the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit (6:16), and to “pray in the Spirit” (6:18). In fact, Aulén was persuaded “that no form of Christian teaching has any future before it except such as can keep steadily in view the reality of evil in the world, and go to meet the evil with a battle-song of triumph.”39 Clearly, the idea of Christus Victor and the warfare worldview brings new relevance to the lyrics of Isaac Watts’s hymn “Am I a Soldier of the Cross?” (esp. verse 3):

Are there no foes for me to face?

Must I not stem the flood?

Is this vile world a friend to grace,

to help me on to God?

Finally, the idea of Christus Victor should revitalize our prayer life and our worship. Christ is now seated at God’s “right hand” (Rom. 8:34; Col. 3:1; Heb. 1:3; 10:12; 12:2). As a result of his death and resurrection, Jesus has driven out the prince of this world. His enthronement at God’s right hand is a position of power and authority over all God’s enemies. The implications of this truth are profound, especially as we pray for God to “deliver us from the evil one” (Matt. 6:13). The cross means God is both willing and able to do just that, to deliver us from our true enemy. We are truly “more than conquerors” in all things because Christ has defeated all the “powers” (Rom. 8:37–39).

And what about our worship? One need only catch a glimpse of the heavenly worship portrayed in John’s Apocalypse:

Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain,

to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength

and honor and glory and praise! (Rev. 5:12)

To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb

be praise and honor and glory and power,

for ever and ever! (Rev. 5:13)

Salvation belongs to our God,

who sits on the throne,

and to the Lamb. (Rev. 7:10)