Original Meaning

Issachar (7:1–5)

ISSACHAR WAS THE ninth son of Jacob, the fifth son born to him by Leah (Gen. 30:17). His name means “hired workman,” and Jacob’s deathbed blessing of Issachar plays on that meaning in predicting that Issachar’s descendants will toil in forced labor gangs (Gen. 49:15). Issachar is often paired with Zebulun in lists of the Israelite tribes (e.g., Deut. 33:18–19). The tribe of Zebulun is absent from this tribal register, but the list does agree with the ordering of the earlier reference to the twelve sons of Israel (1 Chron. 2:1).2 Williamson detects no particular significance in the sequence of tribal names in this passage, apart from the fact the list simply reflects the order of the Chronicler’s source.3

The genealogy of Issachar is both descending (i.e., parent to child) and segmented (i.e., it demonstrates breadth in listing a single generation of descendants as well as depth in citing successive generations from a common ancestor). The muster tallies (7:2, 4, 5) suggest the record originally belonged to a military census from the time of David (see 7:3).

The names of Issachar’s four sons match those lists found in Genesis 46:13 and Numbers 26:23–24. This genealogy consists of four sections, each introduced by the phrase “the son(s) of”: the constituent families of the tribe (7:1), the sons of Tola (7:2), the sons of Uzzi (7:3–4), and other tribal members (7:5).4 Most of the Chronicler’s record of Issachar has no parallel elsewhere in the Old Testament, although Tola is named as a judge at the time of Abimelech (Judg. 10:1). This Tola is identified as the son of Puah and the grandson of Dodo, several generations removed from Issachar and his four sons. Some speculate that Michael the father of Omri (1 Chron. 27:18) could be the Michael the son of Izrahiah (7:3). There seems to be general agreement that the reference to David (7:2) indicates that the purpose of the tribal lists is to accent the role of King David in uniting the tribes of Israel.

That the tribal lists of Issachar are incomplete is attested simply by checking the math of the muster tallies, since the total cited (87,000 in 7:5) is greater than the sum of the tallies of 7:2, 4 (58,600). The sheer size of the muster tallies has led some scholars to understand the Hebrew word ʾelep as “captain” or “chief” rather than “1,000” (thus, e.g., understanding the census of Tola as “22 chiefs, 600 fighting men”).5 One must also understand the number “five” (7:3) to include Izrahiah and his four sons or one must read “five sons of Uzzi” by deleting the phrase “sons of” before the name Izrahiah (as a scribal error of dittography). These and other textual and interpretive problems aside, Issachar was the largest tribal unit recorded in ancient Israel apart from Judah (cf. 2 Sam. 24:9; 1 Chron. 21:5). This accounts for the inclusion of the explanatory reference to the many wives and children in the clan of Izrahiah (7:4).

Bridging Contexts

THE NATURE OF the message of the genealogical prologue in Chronicles is emotional as much as it is theological. The Chronicler wants to bolster morale and encourage participatory ownership of the postexilic restoration effort by appealing to the collective identity of Israel embodied in the names filling the genealogical rolls. The problem for him is twofold. (1) How does one motivate the individual to become proactive in the initiatives to restore Judah and Jerusalem, given the emphasis on corporate or national identity in ancient Israel? (2) Once the individual has been spurred into action, how does one ensure that the newly found imagination and energy will be applied to community as well as to self-interests?

This is the challenge facing the Chronicler: motivating the individual while maintaining the value of corporate responsibility in the covenant community. He chooses to do that in a couple of ways in the genealogical prologue, effectively using the powerful medium of personal story to engage and elicit a response from his audience. One cannot help but wonder if the Chronicler’s blending of genealogy and report or story is not the literary precursor of the catalog of “faithful witnesses” recorded in the book of Hebrews 11.

One type of story inserted strategically throughout the genealogies by the Chronicler is known in terms of literary form as the anecdote or the exploit report. This historical sidelight records a significant event or experience in the life of a person listed in the genealogy.16 A striking example of the anecdote is the story of Jabez, who changes the course of his own destiny as a result of his faithful prayers to God (4:9–10). The exploit report records a deed or event in the life of one person that has ramifications for the entire family or clan, whether for their welfare or hurt. For example, the adventures of the brave but idolatrous warriors of Manasseh resulted in exile in Assyria for the members of that Joseph tribe (5:24–26). By the same token, the Gadite warriors extended the tribal boundaries and increased the agricultural prosperity of the people because they trusted in God (5:20–22).

This section of the Chronicler’s genealogical prologue offers examples of both the anecdote and the exploit report. In each case the stories feature women, and the parallel accounts focus attention on the entwined histories of the Joseph tribes of Manasseh and Ephraim. (1) The first story is little more than a one line allusion to an episode of the post-Exodus desert wanderings of Israel (7:15b; cf. Num. 27:1–11). The mere fact that Zelophehad’s name appears in the Chronicler’s genealogy of Manasseh centuries later is testimony to the precedent-setting efforts of his enterprising daughters. Not only did they secure an inheritance of property in the land of covenant promise for the family, but also their bold and counterculture request was responsible for preserving the name of sonless Zelophehad for posterity (cf. Num. 27:4). (1) The story of Sheerah, the half-tribe’s counterpart of Zelophehad’s daughters, is no less striking as we learn she was the founder of three Ephraimite cities (7:24).

We have already noted an openness on the part of the Chronicler to relationships between Israel and other nations (cf. 4:18). Now we uncover an emphasis on precedent-setting initiatives by women in the genealogical prologue that suggests the Chronicler is seeking to encourage women to become active in the restoration of postexilic Jerusalem. Allen has aptly reflected that “we would do well to ponder and emulate” such wideness of heart and openness of mind.17

Contemporary Significance

INCLUSIVISM. No doubt there are those among the Chronicler’s audience who question the value of reciting the names and stories rehearsing the departed glory and checkered history of the Israelite tribes. Other biblical texts from the postexilic period indicate the Chronicler faced a problem similar to that of our own postmodern era, an incredulity toward any metanarrative.18 That is, society validates (even celebrates) the experience of the individual but voids the notion that any universal concept or common story exists in which that corporate experience might be framed and given meaning or coherence.

Fundamentally, the problem is the same for fallen people in fallen cultures in any century. How does a society establish a shared vision that affirms individual expression but retains group solidarity? What sociological mechanism encourages a meaningful and productive relationship between the “one” and the “many” in a group or social unit? Historically, societies have relied on some form of “law” to regulate individual behavior and appealed to some type of “authority figure” (e.g., political and/or religious) to stabilize and direct the individuals confederated into a group.19

The genealogical prologue of the Chronicler suggests an Old Testament principle broad enough to encompass the individual (whether Hebrew or non-Hebrew, man or woman, royal or peasant) and sufficiently compelling in its ideology to unify diverse people groups. For the Chronicler the only viable metanarrative or universal story for Israel is the Abrahamic covenant (Gen. 12:1–3; cf. 1 Chron. 1:28). This term covenant is central to the discussion of metanarrative or universal story. The purpose of law is to regulate existing relationships in a society by orderly means (i.e., the application of its monopoly of force). By contrast, the purpose of covenant is “to create new relationships in accordance with stipulations given in advance” (e.g., marriage).20

Briefly stated, God’s covenant with Abram (later renamed Abraham) and Sarai (later renamed Sarah) is a story of the relationship between the one and the many in both vertical (theological) and horizontal (sociological) dimensions. This treaty of grant established a new relationship between God and the “parents” of the nation of Israel, so much so that Abraham has the title “friend of God” elsewhere in Scripture (cf. 2 Chron. 20:7; Isa. 41:8; James 2:23). The Abrahamic covenant established a new relationship with all humanity as well, seen in the attendant blessing of the nations (Gen. 12:3). The Chronicler’s repeated references to non-Hebrew individuals in the genealogical prologue emphasizes this fact.

One fundamental fallacy of postmodernity is the denial of a metanarrative or universal story expansive enough to include all the “islands” of human knowledge and experience.21 Postmodernism’s skepticism toward a meta-narrative of any sort must ignore, however, a universal reality printed daily in every newspaper and broadcast each evening in news programs around the world—the evil bent of the human heart. The question is not whether a metanarrative capable of explaining and unifying human experience exists. Rather, the question is whether there is a universal story capable of overcoming the metanarrative of what the Bible describes as the fall of humanity, the story of “paradise lost” (cf. Gen. 3). The Chronicler would quickly answer, “Of course! Surely you know the story of Abraham and Sarah!”

The contemporary Christian reader of the Bible, however, may not be impressed with the Chronicler’s answer. After all, Abraham and Sarah belonged to the old covenant, and the new covenant has been established in Jesus Christ for some twenty centuries now. Wilcock’s reminder concerning the application of the message of Chronicles to the life of the church proves helpful in our discussion: “In changing circumstances, seek the unchanging principles.”22

The changing circumstances in terms of Old Testament history include Israel’s relationship to the surrounding nations, given the ever-shifting political landscape of the ancient Near East. The constant amid the rise and fall of Israel’s political fortunes is God’s promise to Abraham and Sarah to build a great nation through them and to bless all nations through that socioreligious entity (Gen. 12:1–3). Isaiah the prophet brings even greater definition to the Abrahamic covenant with his pronouncements that Israel is God’s instrument for bringing “light to the nations” and “salvation to the ends of the earth” (cf. Isa. 42:1–4; 45:22; 51:4–5). Stated differently, God’s election of Israel is for the sake of “inclusion,” choosing one nation to bless all nations and to establish them among God’s people (cf. Jer. 12:15–16).23

The new covenant echoes this message of “good news” for all people, seen in Simeon’s confession of Jesus as “a light for revelation to the Gentiles” (Luke 2:24) and in the sermons of the John the Baptist proclaiming salvation for all humankind (Luke 3:6). Likewise, the kingdom parables of Jesus illustrate the “inclusiveness” of God’s plan of redemption as the “seed” of the gospel is sown throughout the world (Matt. 13:38). Jesus Christ, then, is the mediator of a new covenant (Heb. 9:15), and it is through this covenant that God is reconciling the world to himself (2 Cor. 5:19), thus creating that new relationship and establishing that new metanarrative for all of human history: the story of “paradise regained.”

The inclusive nature of the covenants, old and new, permits the application of an unchanging biblical principle to changing historical and cultural circumstances—the principle of inclusion itself! The theme of including the Gentiles in the covenant promises to Israel encases the message of the entire Bible, much like an envelope or even bookends. The opening chapters of Genesis introduces the table of nations (Gen. 10) and God’s promise to bless all nations (12:1–3), and the concluding book of the Bible depicts the nations surrounding the throne of God in worship (Rev. 5:9–10; 7:9–10; etc.).

It is not enough, however, to merely recognize such inclusivism as one of the themes that unifies the two covenants of our one Bible. The greater questions of application at both the macro-level and the micro-level remain: What does the church do with its knowledge of this theme of inclusion in biblical theology? How does the individual Christian develop and implement a practical theology of inclusion in daily life?

At the macro-level, it seems that the church established on the confession that Jesus is the Christ simply needs to reaffirm those “first principles” that have defined its history:

• a capacity for worship that transcends all human convention, facilitating a corporate experience that enables all believers to encounter the holiness and mystery of the Godhead and thereby empowering them for acts of service to a needy world24

• a fervent heart for evangelism, recalling on a regular basis the biblical teaching that the good news of God’s plan of redemption is for all people (2 Peter 3:9) because God does not delight in the death of any wicked person (Ezek. 18:23, 32)

• a compassionate spirit that promotes reconciliation through Christ, who reconciles all things to himself (Col. 1:20) and brings harmony and healing to all those relationships in disrepair, whether racial, inter-generational, or familial (2 Cor. 5:18–20; cf. Luke 1:17)

• a vision for ministry that unleashes all the gifts of the Holy Spirit so that the entire body of Christ might be built up (Eph. 4:12)25

• a community of fellowship rooted in mutual love (John 13:34–35), constantly seeking the common ground of “one hope … one Lord, one faith” (Eph. 4:4–5)

At the micro-level, each of us can learn a lesson from the Chronicler’s “wideness of heart and openness of mind.” Jesus taught that Christians are known by their love for each other (John 13:34–35) and their tendency to do acts of kindness for those who cannot repay in like manner (Luke 14:12–14). The Chronicler would approve of such Christian “charity.” (I choose the term charity deliberately, known to us from the KJV, esp. 1 Cor. 13:13.) It signifies love in action for the benefit of others, not some amorphous and selfish feeling or gratifying personal experience that now passes for “love” in our culture.

The Chronicler would approve of the notion of “Christian charity” because he has already grasped the Old Testament principles on which the theology of Christian charity rests. (1) The Chronicler understands that with God there is no partiality or respect of persons since all human beings are created in his image (2 Chron. 19:7; cf. Deut. 1:17; 10:17). Since the charge to Israel was to be holy even as God is holy (Lev. 11:44), it is only natural that the Chronicler would apply this precept to human relationships. The New Testament echoes this sentiment about God who “does not show favoritism but accepts [people] from every nation who fear him and do what is right” (Acts 10:34–35). Likewise, Christians are not to show favoritism (or discrimination) when dealing with others in any venue (James 2:1; cf. Eph. 6:9; Col. 3:25).

(2) The Chronicler is apparently a subscriber to the “good neighbor policy” found in the Mosaic law: “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). Again, the New Testament affirms this Old Testament principle. In fact, Jesus extends the coverage of the “good neighbor policy” to include enemies, persecutors, and non-Jews as well (Matt. 5:43–44). There is even a “rider” attached to the policy in the form of a parable that extends coverage to people like Samaritans, indeed, anyone in need (Luke 10:25–37). The apostle Paul went so far as to instruct Christians to “consider others better than yourselves” (Phil. 2:3; cf. Rom. 12:3).

The prophet Micah declared that God requires the faithful to act justly and to love mercy (as the outcome of walking humbly with God, Mic. 6:8). For the prophet Isaiah specific acts of justice and mercy include encouraging the oppressed and pleading the cases of orphans and widows (Isa. 1:17). The New Testament offers similar instruction, emphasizing simple deeds like the provision of food and clothing for those in need (Matt. 10:42; James 2:14–17). Practically speaking, the Chronicler’s wideness of heart and openness of mind demonstrates itself in deeds of social service and social action as exemplified in the book of Amos (see Fig 6 on the following page).

The key to proper development of Christian social concern is sound biblical doctrine, especially a doctrine of God that recognizes him as the Creator and sustainer of creation, deliverer of his people, merciful God of all nations, and a God who hates evil and loves justice because he is concerned for the whole of humankind. It includes a doctrine of humanity that understands that all persons are God’s creatures and that the reality of cause and effect in human social experience is due to sin. But as one values human beings created in the image of God, the desire to serve them increases.

Although the Chronicler would agree that sound doctrine informs our sense of Christian “charity,” I suspect he would still challenge us, Levitical preacher that he is, to personalize our theology of inclusiveness by looking after “orphans and widows in their distress” (i.e., attending to the socially disadvantaged and oppressed among all people groups; cf. James 1:27). I can imagine his joy among the assembly of the righteous from every nation, tribe, people, and language before God’s throne—knowing that the gender and ethnic diversity sprinkled through his genealogies of ancient Israel are but a portent of what God will do among the nations through the gospel of Jesus Christ (cf. Rev. 7:9)!

Original Meaning

Benjamin (7:6–12)

BENJAMIN WAS THE youngest son of Jacob and the second son born to Rachel, who died giving birth to him (Gen. 35:19, 24). The name Benjamin was given to the boy by his father and means literally “son of the right hand.” But Rachel, with her dying breath, named the child Ben-Oni (“son of my sorrow,” 35:18).

The genealogy of Benjamin lacks the characteristic introductory phrase “the sons of,” restored as an error of haplography in the ancient versions and certain English versions (e.g., NIV, NRSV). The listing also seems out of place since the genealogy of Benjamin resumes in chapter 8 after the register of the remaining northern tribes. Finally, there is little correspondence between the names of the Chronicler’s record and those of Genesis 46:21 and Numbers 26:38–41 (only the name Bela is common to all three sources).6 It does seem likely that the names Shuppim and Huppim in 1 Chronicles 7:12 are the Muppim and Huppim in Genesis 46:21 and the Shephupham and Hupham in Numbers 26:39. This combination of unusual features connected with the personal names has led some scholars to conjecture that the section has suffered textual corruption either through scribal error or editorial rearrangement.7

Rather than suppose scribal errors have corrupted the text, it may well be that the Chronicler’s variation is deliberate for the sake of emphasizing the entry in the list of northern tribes. The tribe of Benjamin was a transitional group in terms of Israelite geography, buffering Judah in the south and the rest of the tribes to the north. The insertion of the Benjamite genealogy at this juncture serves to introduce the more extensive family tree of Benjamin that follows in chapter 8. The highlighting of Benjamin calls to mind the fact that this tribe was also the transitional tribe of Hebrew kingship. King Saul hailed from Benjamin, and the Chronicler uses his genealogy and royal history as a preface to the history of the Davidic dynasty.

No doubt the muster roll of Benjamin is a continuation of the military census serving as the Chronicler’s source of information. Selman aptly notes that this census may have been based on David’s Hebron assembly (12:23–37). Most Benjamites, however, were still loyal to the house of Saul after David’s accession (cf. 12:29), thus explaining the diminished number of Benjamite clans listed here as compared with earlier texts.8

Bridging Contexts

THE NATURE OF the message of the genealogical prologue in Chronicles is emotional as much as it is theological. The Chronicler wants to bolster morale and encourage participatory ownership of the postexilic restoration effort by appealing to the collective identity of Israel embodied in the names filling the genealogical rolls. The problem for him is twofold. (1) How does one motivate the individual to become proactive in the initiatives to restore Judah and Jerusalem, given the emphasis on corporate or national identity in ancient Israel? (2) Once the individual has been spurred into action, how does one ensure that the newly found imagination and energy will be applied to community as well as to self-interests?

This is the challenge facing the Chronicler: motivating the individual while maintaining the value of corporate responsibility in the covenant community. He chooses to do that in a couple of ways in the genealogical prologue, effectively using the powerful medium of personal story to engage and elicit a response from his audience. One cannot help but wonder if the Chronicler’s blending of genealogy and report or story is not the literary precursor of the catalog of “faithful witnesses” recorded in the book of Hebrews 11.

One type of story inserted strategically throughout the genealogies by the Chronicler is known in terms of literary form as the anecdote or the exploit report. This historical sidelight records a significant event or experience in the life of a person listed in the genealogy.16 A striking example of the anecdote is the story of Jabez, who changes the course of his own destiny as a result of his faithful prayers to God (4:9–10). The exploit report records a deed or event in the life of one person that has ramifications for the entire family or clan, whether for their welfare or hurt. For example, the adventures of the brave but idolatrous warriors of Manasseh resulted in exile in Assyria for the members of that Joseph tribe (5:24–26). By the same token, the Gadite warriors extended the tribal boundaries and increased the agricultural prosperity of the people because they trusted in God (5:20–22).

This section of the Chronicler’s genealogical prologue offers examples of both the anecdote and the exploit report. In each case the stories feature women, and the parallel accounts focus attention on the entwined histories of the Joseph tribes of Manasseh and Ephraim. (1) The first story is little more than a one line allusion to an episode of the post-Exodus desert wanderings of Israel (7:15b; cf. Num. 27:1–11). The mere fact that Zelophehad’s name appears in the Chronicler’s genealogy of Manasseh centuries later is testimony to the precedent-setting efforts of his enterprising daughters. Not only did they secure an inheritance of property in the land of covenant promise for the family, but also their bold and counterculture request was responsible for preserving the name of sonless Zelophehad for posterity (cf. Num. 27:4). (1) The story of Sheerah, the half-tribe’s counterpart of Zelophehad’s daughters, is no less striking as we learn she was the founder of three Ephraimite cities (7:24).

We have already noted an openness on the part of the Chronicler to relationships between Israel and other nations (cf. 4:18). Now we uncover an emphasis on precedent-setting initiatives by women in the genealogical prologue that suggests the Chronicler is seeking to encourage women to become active in the restoration of postexilic Jerusalem. Allen has aptly reflected that “we would do well to ponder and emulate” such wideness of heart and openness of mind.17

Contemporary Significance

INCLUSIVISM. No doubt there are those among the Chronicler’s audience who question the value of reciting the names and stories rehearsing the departed glory and checkered history of the Israelite tribes. Other biblical texts from the postexilic period indicate the Chronicler faced a problem similar to that of our own postmodern era, an incredulity toward any metanarrative.18 That is, society validates (even celebrates) the experience of the individual but voids the notion that any universal concept or common story exists in which that corporate experience might be framed and given meaning or coherence.

Fundamentally, the problem is the same for fallen people in fallen cultures in any century. How does a society establish a shared vision that affirms individual expression but retains group solidarity? What sociological mechanism encourages a meaningful and productive relationship between the “one” and the “many” in a group or social unit? Historically, societies have relied on some form of “law” to regulate individual behavior and appealed to some type of “authority figure” (e.g., political and/or religious) to stabilize and direct the individuals confederated into a group.19

The genealogical prologue of the Chronicler suggests an Old Testament principle broad enough to encompass the individual (whether Hebrew or non-Hebrew, man or woman, royal or peasant) and sufficiently compelling in its ideology to unify diverse people groups. For the Chronicler the only viable metanarrative or universal story for Israel is the Abrahamic covenant (Gen. 12:1–3; cf. 1 Chron. 1:28). This term covenant is central to the discussion of metanarrative or universal story. The purpose of law is to regulate existing relationships in a society by orderly means (i.e., the application of its monopoly of force). By contrast, the purpose of covenant is “to create new relationships in accordance with stipulations given in advance” (e.g., marriage).20

Briefly stated, God’s covenant with Abram (later renamed Abraham) and Sarai (later renamed Sarah) is a story of the relationship between the one and the many in both vertical (theological) and horizontal (sociological) dimensions. This treaty of grant established a new relationship between God and the “parents” of the nation of Israel, so much so that Abraham has the title “friend of God” elsewhere in Scripture (cf. 2 Chron. 20:7; Isa. 41:8; James 2:23). The Abrahamic covenant established a new relationship with all humanity as well, seen in the attendant blessing of the nations (Gen. 12:3). The Chronicler’s repeated references to non-Hebrew individuals in the genealogical prologue emphasizes this fact.

One fundamental fallacy of postmodernity is the denial of a metanarrative or universal story expansive enough to include all the “islands” of human knowledge and experience.21 Postmodernism’s skepticism toward a meta-narrative of any sort must ignore, however, a universal reality printed daily in every newspaper and broadcast each evening in news programs around the world—the evil bent of the human heart. The question is not whether a metanarrative capable of explaining and unifying human experience exists. Rather, the question is whether there is a universal story capable of overcoming the metanarrative of what the Bible describes as the fall of humanity, the story of “paradise lost” (cf. Gen. 3). The Chronicler would quickly answer, “Of course! Surely you know the story of Abraham and Sarah!”

The contemporary Christian reader of the Bible, however, may not be impressed with the Chronicler’s answer. After all, Abraham and Sarah belonged to the old covenant, and the new covenant has been established in Jesus Christ for some twenty centuries now. Wilcock’s reminder concerning the application of the message of Chronicles to the life of the church proves helpful in our discussion: “In changing circumstances, seek the unchanging principles.”22

The changing circumstances in terms of Old Testament history include Israel’s relationship to the surrounding nations, given the ever-shifting political landscape of the ancient Near East. The constant amid the rise and fall of Israel’s political fortunes is God’s promise to Abraham and Sarah to build a great nation through them and to bless all nations through that socioreligious entity (Gen. 12:1–3). Isaiah the prophet brings even greater definition to the Abrahamic covenant with his pronouncements that Israel is God’s instrument for bringing “light to the nations” and “salvation to the ends of the earth” (cf. Isa. 42:1–4; 45:22; 51:4–5). Stated differently, God’s election of Israel is for the sake of “inclusion,” choosing one nation to bless all nations and to establish them among God’s people (cf. Jer. 12:15–16).23

The new covenant echoes this message of “good news” for all people, seen in Simeon’s confession of Jesus as “a light for revelation to the Gentiles” (Luke 2:24) and in the sermons of the John the Baptist proclaiming salvation for all humankind (Luke 3:6). Likewise, the kingdom parables of Jesus illustrate the “inclusiveness” of God’s plan of redemption as the “seed” of the gospel is sown throughout the world (Matt. 13:38). Jesus Christ, then, is the mediator of a new covenant (Heb. 9:15), and it is through this covenant that God is reconciling the world to himself (2 Cor. 5:19), thus creating that new relationship and establishing that new metanarrative for all of human history: the story of “paradise regained.”

The inclusive nature of the covenants, old and new, permits the application of an unchanging biblical principle to changing historical and cultural circumstances—the principle of inclusion itself! The theme of including the Gentiles in the covenant promises to Israel encases the message of the entire Bible, much like an envelope or even bookends. The opening chapters of Genesis introduces the table of nations (Gen. 10) and God’s promise to bless all nations (12:1–3), and the concluding book of the Bible depicts the nations surrounding the throne of God in worship (Rev. 5:9–10; 7:9–10; etc.).

It is not enough, however, to merely recognize such inclusivism as one of the themes that unifies the two covenants of our one Bible. The greater questions of application at both the macro-level and the micro-level remain: What does the church do with its knowledge of this theme of inclusion in biblical theology? How does the individual Christian develop and implement a practical theology of inclusion in daily life?

At the macro-level, it seems that the church established on the confession that Jesus is the Christ simply needs to reaffirm those “first principles” that have defined its history:

• a capacity for worship that transcends all human convention, facilitating a corporate experience that enables all believers to encounter the holiness and mystery of the Godhead and thereby empowering them for acts of service to a needy world24

• a fervent heart for evangelism, recalling on a regular basis the biblical teaching that the good news of God’s plan of redemption is for all people (2 Peter 3:9) because God does not delight in the death of any wicked person (Ezek. 18:23, 32)

• a compassionate spirit that promotes reconciliation through Christ, who reconciles all things to himself (Col. 1:20) and brings harmony and healing to all those relationships in disrepair, whether racial, inter-generational, or familial (2 Cor. 5:18–20; cf. Luke 1:17)

• a vision for ministry that unleashes all the gifts of the Holy Spirit so that the entire body of Christ might be built up (Eph. 4:12)25

• a community of fellowship rooted in mutual love (John 13:34–35), constantly seeking the common ground of “one hope … one Lord, one faith” (Eph. 4:4–5)

At the micro-level, each of us can learn a lesson from the Chronicler’s “wideness of heart and openness of mind.” Jesus taught that Christians are known by their love for each other (John 13:34–35) and their tendency to do acts of kindness for those who cannot repay in like manner (Luke 14:12–14). The Chronicler would approve of such Christian “charity.” (I choose the term charity deliberately, known to us from the KJV, esp. 1 Cor. 13:13.) It signifies love in action for the benefit of others, not some amorphous and selfish feeling or gratifying personal experience that now passes for “love” in our culture.

The Chronicler would approve of the notion of “Christian charity” because he has already grasped the Old Testament principles on which the theology of Christian charity rests. (1) The Chronicler understands that with God there is no partiality or respect of persons since all human beings are created in his image (2 Chron. 19:7; cf. Deut. 1:17; 10:17). Since the charge to Israel was to be holy even as God is holy (Lev. 11:44), it is only natural that the Chronicler would apply this precept to human relationships. The New Testament echoes this sentiment about God who “does not show favoritism but accepts [people] from every nation who fear him and do what is right” (Acts 10:34–35). Likewise, Christians are not to show favoritism (or discrimination) when dealing with others in any venue (James 2:1; cf. Eph. 6:9; Col. 3:25).

(2) The Chronicler is apparently a subscriber to the “good neighbor policy” found in the Mosaic law: “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). Again, the New Testament affirms this Old Testament principle. In fact, Jesus extends the coverage of the “good neighbor policy” to include enemies, persecutors, and non-Jews as well (Matt. 5:43–44). There is even a “rider” attached to the policy in the form of a parable that extends coverage to people like Samaritans, indeed, anyone in need (Luke 10:25–37). The apostle Paul went so far as to instruct Christians to “consider others better than yourselves” (Phil. 2:3; cf. Rom. 12:3).

The prophet Micah declared that God requires the faithful to act justly and to love mercy (as the outcome of walking humbly with God, Mic. 6:8). For the prophet Isaiah specific acts of justice and mercy include encouraging the oppressed and pleading the cases of orphans and widows (Isa. 1:17). The New Testament offers similar instruction, emphasizing simple deeds like the provision of food and clothing for those in need (Matt. 10:42; James 2:14–17). Practically speaking, the Chronicler’s wideness of heart and openness of mind demonstrates itself in deeds of social service and social action as exemplified in the book of Amos (see Fig 6 on the following page).

The key to proper development of Christian social concern is sound biblical doctrine, especially a doctrine of God that recognizes him as the Creator and sustainer of creation, deliverer of his people, merciful God of all nations, and a God who hates evil and loves justice because he is concerned for the whole of humankind. It includes a doctrine of humanity that understands that all persons are God’s creatures and that the reality of cause and effect in human social experience is due to sin. But as one values human beings created in the image of God, the desire to serve them increases.

Although the Chronicler would agree that sound doctrine informs our sense of Christian “charity,” I suspect he would still challenge us, Levitical preacher that he is, to personalize our theology of inclusiveness by looking after “orphans and widows in their distress” (i.e., attending to the socially disadvantaged and oppressed among all people groups; cf. James 1:27). I can imagine his joy among the assembly of the righteous from every nation, tribe, people, and language before God’s throne—knowing that the gender and ethnic diversity sprinkled through his genealogies of ancient Israel are but a portent of what God will do among the nations through the gospel of Jesus Christ (cf. Rev. 7:9)!

Original Meaning

Naphtali (7:13)

BILHAH WAS ONE of Jacob’s concubines and the mother of Naphtali (Gen. 46:24–25). The four clans of Naphtali match the records of Genesis 49:24 and Numbers 26:48–49 (with the exception of Shallum for Shillem in the Chronicler’s listing). The brevity of the genealogy is noteworthy, prompting Williamson to speculate on the possibility of “extensive scribal loss” in the source(s) the Chronicler is relying on.9 This may also account for the omission of the genealogies of Dan and Zebulun in the tribal records of Chronicles.

Bridging Contexts

THE NATURE OF the message of the genealogical prologue in Chronicles is emotional as much as it is theological. The Chronicler wants to bolster morale and encourage participatory ownership of the postexilic restoration effort by appealing to the collective identity of Israel embodied in the names filling the genealogical rolls. The problem for him is twofold. (1) How does one motivate the individual to become proactive in the initiatives to restore Judah and Jerusalem, given the emphasis on corporate or national identity in ancient Israel? (2) Once the individual has been spurred into action, how does one ensure that the newly found imagination and energy will be applied to community as well as to self-interests?

This is the challenge facing the Chronicler: motivating the individual while maintaining the value of corporate responsibility in the covenant community. He chooses to do that in a couple of ways in the genealogical prologue, effectively using the powerful medium of personal story to engage and elicit a response from his audience. One cannot help but wonder if the Chronicler’s blending of genealogy and report or story is not the literary precursor of the catalog of “faithful witnesses” recorded in the book of Hebrews 11.

One type of story inserted strategically throughout the genealogies by the Chronicler is known in terms of literary form as the anecdote or the exploit report. This historical sidelight records a significant event or experience in the life of a person listed in the genealogy.16 A striking example of the anecdote is the story of Jabez, who changes the course of his own destiny as a result of his faithful prayers to God (4:9–10). The exploit report records a deed or event in the life of one person that has ramifications for the entire family or clan, whether for their welfare or hurt. For example, the adventures of the brave but idolatrous warriors of Manasseh resulted in exile in Assyria for the members of that Joseph tribe (5:24–26). By the same token, the Gadite warriors extended the tribal boundaries and increased the agricultural prosperity of the people because they trusted in God (5:20–22).

This section of the Chronicler’s genealogical prologue offers examples of both the anecdote and the exploit report. In each case the stories feature women, and the parallel accounts focus attention on the entwined histories of the Joseph tribes of Manasseh and Ephraim. (1) The first story is little more than a one line allusion to an episode of the post-Exodus desert wanderings of Israel (7:15b; cf. Num. 27:1–11). The mere fact that Zelophehad’s name appears in the Chronicler’s genealogy of Manasseh centuries later is testimony to the precedent-setting efforts of his enterprising daughters. Not only did they secure an inheritance of property in the land of covenant promise for the family, but also their bold and counterculture request was responsible for preserving the name of sonless Zelophehad for posterity (cf. Num. 27:4). (1) The story of Sheerah, the half-tribe’s counterpart of Zelophehad’s daughters, is no less striking as we learn she was the founder of three Ephraimite cities (7:24).

We have already noted an openness on the part of the Chronicler to relationships between Israel and other nations (cf. 4:18). Now we uncover an emphasis on precedent-setting initiatives by women in the genealogical prologue that suggests the Chronicler is seeking to encourage women to become active in the restoration of postexilic Jerusalem. Allen has aptly reflected that “we would do well to ponder and emulate” such wideness of heart and openness of mind.17

Contemporary Significance

INCLUSIVISM. No doubt there are those among the Chronicler’s audience who question the value of reciting the names and stories rehearsing the departed glory and checkered history of the Israelite tribes. Other biblical texts from the postexilic period indicate the Chronicler faced a problem similar to that of our own postmodern era, an incredulity toward any metanarrative.18 That is, society validates (even celebrates) the experience of the individual but voids the notion that any universal concept or common story exists in which that corporate experience might be framed and given meaning or coherence.

Fundamentally, the problem is the same for fallen people in fallen cultures in any century. How does a society establish a shared vision that affirms individual expression but retains group solidarity? What sociological mechanism encourages a meaningful and productive relationship between the “one” and the “many” in a group or social unit? Historically, societies have relied on some form of “law” to regulate individual behavior and appealed to some type of “authority figure” (e.g., political and/or religious) to stabilize and direct the individuals confederated into a group.19

The genealogical prologue of the Chronicler suggests an Old Testament principle broad enough to encompass the individual (whether Hebrew or non-Hebrew, man or woman, royal or peasant) and sufficiently compelling in its ideology to unify diverse people groups. For the Chronicler the only viable metanarrative or universal story for Israel is the Abrahamic covenant (Gen. 12:1–3; cf. 1 Chron. 1:28). This term covenant is central to the discussion of metanarrative or universal story. The purpose of law is to regulate existing relationships in a society by orderly means (i.e., the application of its monopoly of force). By contrast, the purpose of covenant is “to create new relationships in accordance with stipulations given in advance” (e.g., marriage).20

Briefly stated, God’s covenant with Abram (later renamed Abraham) and Sarai (later renamed Sarah) is a story of the relationship between the one and the many in both vertical (theological) and horizontal (sociological) dimensions. This treaty of grant established a new relationship between God and the “parents” of the nation of Israel, so much so that Abraham has the title “friend of God” elsewhere in Scripture (cf. 2 Chron. 20:7; Isa. 41:8; James 2:23). The Abrahamic covenant established a new relationship with all humanity as well, seen in the attendant blessing of the nations (Gen. 12:3). The Chronicler’s repeated references to non-Hebrew individuals in the genealogical prologue emphasizes this fact.

One fundamental fallacy of postmodernity is the denial of a metanarrative or universal story expansive enough to include all the “islands” of human knowledge and experience.21 Postmodernism’s skepticism toward a meta-narrative of any sort must ignore, however, a universal reality printed daily in every newspaper and broadcast each evening in news programs around the world—the evil bent of the human heart. The question is not whether a metanarrative capable of explaining and unifying human experience exists. Rather, the question is whether there is a universal story capable of overcoming the metanarrative of what the Bible describes as the fall of humanity, the story of “paradise lost” (cf. Gen. 3). The Chronicler would quickly answer, “Of course! Surely you know the story of Abraham and Sarah!”

The contemporary Christian reader of the Bible, however, may not be impressed with the Chronicler’s answer. After all, Abraham and Sarah belonged to the old covenant, and the new covenant has been established in Jesus Christ for some twenty centuries now. Wilcock’s reminder concerning the application of the message of Chronicles to the life of the church proves helpful in our discussion: “In changing circumstances, seek the unchanging principles.”22

The changing circumstances in terms of Old Testament history include Israel’s relationship to the surrounding nations, given the ever-shifting political landscape of the ancient Near East. The constant amid the rise and fall of Israel’s political fortunes is God’s promise to Abraham and Sarah to build a great nation through them and to bless all nations through that socioreligious entity (Gen. 12:1–3). Isaiah the prophet brings even greater definition to the Abrahamic covenant with his pronouncements that Israel is God’s instrument for bringing “light to the nations” and “salvation to the ends of the earth” (cf. Isa. 42:1–4; 45:22; 51:4–5). Stated differently, God’s election of Israel is for the sake of “inclusion,” choosing one nation to bless all nations and to establish them among God’s people (cf. Jer. 12:15–16).23

The new covenant echoes this message of “good news” for all people, seen in Simeon’s confession of Jesus as “a light for revelation to the Gentiles” (Luke 2:24) and in the sermons of the John the Baptist proclaiming salvation for all humankind (Luke 3:6). Likewise, the kingdom parables of Jesus illustrate the “inclusiveness” of God’s plan of redemption as the “seed” of the gospel is sown throughout the world (Matt. 13:38). Jesus Christ, then, is the mediator of a new covenant (Heb. 9:15), and it is through this covenant that God is reconciling the world to himself (2 Cor. 5:19), thus creating that new relationship and establishing that new metanarrative for all of human history: the story of “paradise regained.”

The inclusive nature of the covenants, old and new, permits the application of an unchanging biblical principle to changing historical and cultural circumstances—the principle of inclusion itself! The theme of including the Gentiles in the covenant promises to Israel encases the message of the entire Bible, much like an envelope or even bookends. The opening chapters of Genesis introduces the table of nations (Gen. 10) and God’s promise to bless all nations (12:1–3), and the concluding book of the Bible depicts the nations surrounding the throne of God in worship (Rev. 5:9–10; 7:9–10; etc.).

It is not enough, however, to merely recognize such inclusivism as one of the themes that unifies the two covenants of our one Bible. The greater questions of application at both the macro-level and the micro-level remain: What does the church do with its knowledge of this theme of inclusion in biblical theology? How does the individual Christian develop and implement a practical theology of inclusion in daily life?

At the macro-level, it seems that the church established on the confession that Jesus is the Christ simply needs to reaffirm those “first principles” that have defined its history:

• a capacity for worship that transcends all human convention, facilitating a corporate experience that enables all believers to encounter the holiness and mystery of the Godhead and thereby empowering them for acts of service to a needy world24

• a fervent heart for evangelism, recalling on a regular basis the biblical teaching that the good news of God’s plan of redemption is for all people (2 Peter 3:9) because God does not delight in the death of any wicked person (Ezek. 18:23, 32)

• a compassionate spirit that promotes reconciliation through Christ, who reconciles all things to himself (Col. 1:20) and brings harmony and healing to all those relationships in disrepair, whether racial, inter-generational, or familial (2 Cor. 5:18–20; cf. Luke 1:17)

• a vision for ministry that unleashes all the gifts of the Holy Spirit so that the entire body of Christ might be built up (Eph. 4:12)25

• a community of fellowship rooted in mutual love (John 13:34–35), constantly seeking the common ground of “one hope … one Lord, one faith” (Eph. 4:4–5)

At the micro-level, each of us can learn a lesson from the Chronicler’s “wideness of heart and openness of mind.” Jesus taught that Christians are known by their love for each other (John 13:34–35) and their tendency to do acts of kindness for those who cannot repay in like manner (Luke 14:12–14). The Chronicler would approve of such Christian “charity.” (I choose the term charity deliberately, known to us from the KJV, esp. 1 Cor. 13:13.) It signifies love in action for the benefit of others, not some amorphous and selfish feeling or gratifying personal experience that now passes for “love” in our culture.

The Chronicler would approve of the notion of “Christian charity” because he has already grasped the Old Testament principles on which the theology of Christian charity rests. (1) The Chronicler understands that with God there is no partiality or respect of persons since all human beings are created in his image (2 Chron. 19:7; cf. Deut. 1:17; 10:17). Since the charge to Israel was to be holy even as God is holy (Lev. 11:44), it is only natural that the Chronicler would apply this precept to human relationships. The New Testament echoes this sentiment about God who “does not show favoritism but accepts [people] from every nation who fear him and do what is right” (Acts 10:34–35). Likewise, Christians are not to show favoritism (or discrimination) when dealing with others in any venue (James 2:1; cf. Eph. 6:9; Col. 3:25).

(2) The Chronicler is apparently a subscriber to the “good neighbor policy” found in the Mosaic law: “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). Again, the New Testament affirms this Old Testament principle. In fact, Jesus extends the coverage of the “good neighbor policy” to include enemies, persecutors, and non-Jews as well (Matt. 5:43–44). There is even a “rider” attached to the policy in the form of a parable that extends coverage to people like Samaritans, indeed, anyone in need (Luke 10:25–37). The apostle Paul went so far as to instruct Christians to “consider others better than yourselves” (Phil. 2:3; cf. Rom. 12:3).

The prophet Micah declared that God requires the faithful to act justly and to love mercy (as the outcome of walking humbly with God, Mic. 6:8). For the prophet Isaiah specific acts of justice and mercy include encouraging the oppressed and pleading the cases of orphans and widows (Isa. 1:17). The New Testament offers similar instruction, emphasizing simple deeds like the provision of food and clothing for those in need (Matt. 10:42; James 2:14–17). Practically speaking, the Chronicler’s wideness of heart and openness of mind demonstrates itself in deeds of social service and social action as exemplified in the book of Amos (see Fig 6 on the following page).

The key to proper development of Christian social concern is sound biblical doctrine, especially a doctrine of God that recognizes him as the Creator and sustainer of creation, deliverer of his people, merciful God of all nations, and a God who hates evil and loves justice because he is concerned for the whole of humankind. It includes a doctrine of humanity that understands that all persons are God’s creatures and that the reality of cause and effect in human social experience is due to sin. But as one values human beings created in the image of God, the desire to serve them increases.

Although the Chronicler would agree that sound doctrine informs our sense of Christian “charity,” I suspect he would still challenge us, Levitical preacher that he is, to personalize our theology of inclusiveness by looking after “orphans and widows in their distress” (i.e., attending to the socially disadvantaged and oppressed among all people groups; cf. James 1:27). I can imagine his joy among the assembly of the righteous from every nation, tribe, people, and language before God’s throne—knowing that the gender and ethnic diversity sprinkled through his genealogies of ancient Israel are but a portent of what God will do among the nations through the gospel of Jesus Christ (cf. Rev. 7:9)!

Original Meaning

Manasseh (7:14–19)

MANASSEH AND EPHRAIM were the sons of Joseph by his Egyptian wife, Asenath (Gen. 41:50–51). Manasseh and Ephraim are the so-called half-tribes or Joseph tribes of Israel. First Chronicles preserves separate genealogies for the Transjordan clans of Manasseh (5:23–26) and the western clans of Manasseh (7:14–19). This section of the tribal genealogy is in disarray, seemingly at variance with itself internally and externally with other Old Testament sources. Unlike the other tribal records in this passage, the registers of descendants from Manasseh and Ephraim are not connected with the military census of David.

It is also important to recognize that the genealogy of Manasseh may have been separated from its original location for theological purposes (since it appears that 7:14–19 served as an introduction to 5:23–26).10 While not accounting for all the problems in harmonizing the available biblical data, it is helpful to remember that the Chronicler has selected and arranged genealogical materials from a number of ancient sources for theological purposes related to the postexilic restoration of Judah.

The Chronicler evidently knows the census list of Numbers 26:29–33 and the tribal allotment register of Joshua 17:1–13. Even these sources, however, do not permit a complete reconstruction of Manasseh’s genealogy. Certain of the names of Manasseh’s descendants are common to the records of Numbers and Joshua (e.g., Makir, Gilead, Zelophehad). Many others are unknown to the other biblical genealogies (e.g., Maacah, Peresh, Sheresh, Ulam). Rather than assuming sloppy work by the ancient scribes in this section, it seems more prudent to recognize that the Chronicler’s genealogy is based in part on a reliable source independent of known Old Testament sources. Recent biblical scholarship continues to verify the integrity of the Chronicler’s work as a historian. There is no reason why that same charity should not apply to his genealogies.11

The Chronicler has included genealogical records of the Joseph tribes primarily in order to round out the ideal number of the twelve tribes. The appeal to the historical tribal associations of the nation of Israel is an important argument in his agenda to cast the restoration of Judah as an “all Israel” event. By subtly calling attention to the territory of Manasseh through the separation of the genealogy into the Transjordan and Western Manasseh clans, the Chronicler extends the “ideal” of all Israel to the tribal boundaries established by priestly allotment in the land of covenant promise (cf. Josh. 17).12

One of the historical sidebars of this section is the reference to Asriel’s Aramean mother (Manasseh’s unnamed concubine, 7:14). Such mixed marriages were outlawed as part of the social and religious reforms initiated by Ezra and Nehemiah (Neh. 13:3, 23–30). In contrast to Rudolph’s suggestion that the reference to Manasseh’s Aramean concubine was designed to discredit the descendants of Manasseh,13 this seems to be yet another example of the Chronicler’s openness to the nations in affirming God’s sovereignty in fulfilling the “blessings” clause of the Abrahamic covenant (Gen. 12:3).

Bridging Contexts

THE NATURE OF the message of the genealogical prologue in Chronicles is emotional as much as it is theological. The Chronicler wants to bolster morale and encourage participatory ownership of the postexilic restoration effort by appealing to the collective identity of Israel embodied in the names filling the genealogical rolls. The problem for him is twofold. (1) How does one motivate the individual to become proactive in the initiatives to restore Judah and Jerusalem, given the emphasis on corporate or national identity in ancient Israel? (2) Once the individual has been spurred into action, how does one ensure that the newly found imagination and energy will be applied to community as well as to self-interests?

This is the challenge facing the Chronicler: motivating the individual while maintaining the value of corporate responsibility in the covenant community. He chooses to do that in a couple of ways in the genealogical prologue, effectively using the powerful medium of personal story to engage and elicit a response from his audience. One cannot help but wonder if the Chronicler’s blending of genealogy and report or story is not the literary precursor of the catalog of “faithful witnesses” recorded in the book of Hebrews 11.

One type of story inserted strategically throughout the genealogies by the Chronicler is known in terms of literary form as the anecdote or the exploit report. This historical sidelight records a significant event or experience in the life of a person listed in the genealogy.16 A striking example of the anecdote is the story of Jabez, who changes the course of his own destiny as a result of his faithful prayers to God (4:9–10). The exploit report records a deed or event in the life of one person that has ramifications for the entire family or clan, whether for their welfare or hurt. For example, the adventures of the brave but idolatrous warriors of Manasseh resulted in exile in Assyria for the members of that Joseph tribe (5:24–26). By the same token, the Gadite warriors extended the tribal boundaries and increased the agricultural prosperity of the people because they trusted in God (5:20–22).

This section of the Chronicler’s genealogical prologue offers examples of both the anecdote and the exploit report. In each case the stories feature women, and the parallel accounts focus attention on the entwined histories of the Joseph tribes of Manasseh and Ephraim. (1) The first story is little more than a one line allusion to an episode of the post-Exodus desert wanderings of Israel (7:15b; cf. Num. 27:1–11). The mere fact that Zelophehad’s name appears in the Chronicler’s genealogy of Manasseh centuries later is testimony to the precedent-setting efforts of his enterprising daughters. Not only did they secure an inheritance of property in the land of covenant promise for the family, but also their bold and counterculture request was responsible for preserving the name of sonless Zelophehad for posterity (cf. Num. 27:4). (1) The story of Sheerah, the half-tribe’s counterpart of Zelophehad’s daughters, is no less striking as we learn she was the founder of three Ephraimite cities (7:24).

We have already noted an openness on the part of the Chronicler to relationships between Israel and other nations (cf. 4:18). Now we uncover an emphasis on precedent-setting initiatives by women in the genealogical prologue that suggests the Chronicler is seeking to encourage women to become active in the restoration of postexilic Jerusalem. Allen has aptly reflected that “we would do well to ponder and emulate” such wideness of heart and openness of mind.17

Contemporary Significance

INCLUSIVISM. No doubt there are those among the Chronicler’s audience who question the value of reciting the names and stories rehearsing the departed glory and checkered history of the Israelite tribes. Other biblical texts from the postexilic period indicate the Chronicler faced a problem similar to that of our own postmodern era, an incredulity toward any metanarrative.18 That is, society validates (even celebrates) the experience of the individual but voids the notion that any universal concept or common story exists in which that corporate experience might be framed and given meaning or coherence.

Fundamentally, the problem is the same for fallen people in fallen cultures in any century. How does a society establish a shared vision that affirms individual expression but retains group solidarity? What sociological mechanism encourages a meaningful and productive relationship between the “one” and the “many” in a group or social unit? Historically, societies have relied on some form of “law” to regulate individual behavior and appealed to some type of “authority figure” (e.g., political and/or religious) to stabilize and direct the individuals confederated into a group.19

The genealogical prologue of the Chronicler suggests an Old Testament principle broad enough to encompass the individual (whether Hebrew or non-Hebrew, man or woman, royal or peasant) and sufficiently compelling in its ideology to unify diverse people groups. For the Chronicler the only viable metanarrative or universal story for Israel is the Abrahamic covenant (Gen. 12:1–3; cf. 1 Chron. 1:28). This term covenant is central to the discussion of metanarrative or universal story. The purpose of law is to regulate existing relationships in a society by orderly means (i.e., the application of its monopoly of force). By contrast, the purpose of covenant is “to create new relationships in accordance with stipulations given in advance” (e.g., marriage).20

Briefly stated, God’s covenant with Abram (later renamed Abraham) and Sarai (later renamed Sarah) is a story of the relationship between the one and the many in both vertical (theological) and horizontal (sociological) dimensions. This treaty of grant established a new relationship between God and the “parents” of the nation of Israel, so much so that Abraham has the title “friend of God” elsewhere in Scripture (cf. 2 Chron. 20:7; Isa. 41:8; James 2:23). The Abrahamic covenant established a new relationship with all humanity as well, seen in the attendant blessing of the nations (Gen. 12:3). The Chronicler’s repeated references to non-Hebrew individuals in the genealogical prologue emphasizes this fact.

One fundamental fallacy of postmodernity is the denial of a metanarrative or universal story expansive enough to include all the “islands” of human knowledge and experience.21 Postmodernism’s skepticism toward a meta-narrative of any sort must ignore, however, a universal reality printed daily in every newspaper and broadcast each evening in news programs around the world—the evil bent of the human heart. The question is not whether a metanarrative capable of explaining and unifying human experience exists. Rather, the question is whether there is a universal story capable of overcoming the metanarrative of what the Bible describes as the fall of humanity, the story of “paradise lost” (cf. Gen. 3). The Chronicler would quickly answer, “Of course! Surely you know the story of Abraham and Sarah!”

The contemporary Christian reader of the Bible, however, may not be impressed with the Chronicler’s answer. After all, Abraham and Sarah belonged to the old covenant, and the new covenant has been established in Jesus Christ for some twenty centuries now. Wilcock’s reminder concerning the application of the message of Chronicles to the life of the church proves helpful in our discussion: “In changing circumstances, seek the unchanging principles.”22

The changing circumstances in terms of Old Testament history include Israel’s relationship to the surrounding nations, given the ever-shifting political landscape of the ancient Near East. The constant amid the rise and fall of Israel’s political fortunes is God’s promise to Abraham and Sarah to build a great nation through them and to bless all nations through that socioreligious entity (Gen. 12:1–3). Isaiah the prophet brings even greater definition to the Abrahamic covenant with his pronouncements that Israel is God’s instrument for bringing “light to the nations” and “salvation to the ends of the earth” (cf. Isa. 42:1–4; 45:22; 51:4–5). Stated differently, God’s election of Israel is for the sake of “inclusion,” choosing one nation to bless all nations and to establish them among God’s people (cf. Jer. 12:15–16).23

The new covenant echoes this message of “good news” for all people, seen in Simeon’s confession of Jesus as “a light for revelation to the Gentiles” (Luke 2:24) and in the sermons of the John the Baptist proclaiming salvation for all humankind (Luke 3:6). Likewise, the kingdom parables of Jesus illustrate the “inclusiveness” of God’s plan of redemption as the “seed” of the gospel is sown throughout the world (Matt. 13:38). Jesus Christ, then, is the mediator of a new covenant (Heb. 9:15), and it is through this covenant that God is reconciling the world to himself (2 Cor. 5:19), thus creating that new relationship and establishing that new metanarrative for all of human history: the story of “paradise regained.”

The inclusive nature of the covenants, old and new, permits the application of an unchanging biblical principle to changing historical and cultural circumstances—the principle of inclusion itself! The theme of including the Gentiles in the covenant promises to Israel encases the message of the entire Bible, much like an envelope or even bookends. The opening chapters of Genesis introduces the table of nations (Gen. 10) and God’s promise to bless all nations (12:1–3), and the concluding book of the Bible depicts the nations surrounding the throne of God in worship (Rev. 5:9–10; 7:9–10; etc.).

It is not enough, however, to merely recognize such inclusivism as one of the themes that unifies the two covenants of our one Bible. The greater questions of application at both the macro-level and the micro-level remain: What does the church do with its knowledge of this theme of inclusion in biblical theology? How does the individual Christian develop and implement a practical theology of inclusion in daily life?

At the macro-level, it seems that the church established on the confession that Jesus is the Christ simply needs to reaffirm those “first principles” that have defined its history:

• a capacity for worship that transcends all human convention, facilitating a corporate experience that enables all believers to encounter the holiness and mystery of the Godhead and thereby empowering them for acts of service to a needy world24

• a fervent heart for evangelism, recalling on a regular basis the biblical teaching that the good news of God’s plan of redemption is for all people (2 Peter 3:9) because God does not delight in the death of any wicked person (Ezek. 18:23, 32)

• a compassionate spirit that promotes reconciliation through Christ, who reconciles all things to himself (Col. 1:20) and brings harmony and healing to all those relationships in disrepair, whether racial, inter-generational, or familial (2 Cor. 5:18–20; cf. Luke 1:17)

• a vision for ministry that unleashes all the gifts of the Holy Spirit so that the entire body of Christ might be built up (Eph. 4:12)25

• a community of fellowship rooted in mutual love (John 13:34–35), constantly seeking the common ground of “one hope … one Lord, one faith” (Eph. 4:4–5)

At the micro-level, each of us can learn a lesson from the Chronicler’s “wideness of heart and openness of mind.” Jesus taught that Christians are known by their love for each other (John 13:34–35) and their tendency to do acts of kindness for those who cannot repay in like manner (Luke 14:12–14). The Chronicler would approve of such Christian “charity.” (I choose the term charity deliberately, known to us from the KJV, esp. 1 Cor. 13:13.) It signifies love in action for the benefit of others, not some amorphous and selfish feeling or gratifying personal experience that now passes for “love” in our culture.

The Chronicler would approve of the notion of “Christian charity” because he has already grasped the Old Testament principles on which the theology of Christian charity rests. (1) The Chronicler understands that with God there is no partiality or respect of persons since all human beings are created in his image (2 Chron. 19:7; cf. Deut. 1:17; 10:17). Since the charge to Israel was to be holy even as God is holy (Lev. 11:44), it is only natural that the Chronicler would apply this precept to human relationships. The New Testament echoes this sentiment about God who “does not show favoritism but accepts [people] from every nation who fear him and do what is right” (Acts 10:34–35). Likewise, Christians are not to show favoritism (or discrimination) when dealing with others in any venue (James 2:1; cf. Eph. 6:9; Col. 3:25).

(2) The Chronicler is apparently a subscriber to the “good neighbor policy” found in the Mosaic law: “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). Again, the New Testament affirms this Old Testament principle. In fact, Jesus extends the coverage of the “good neighbor policy” to include enemies, persecutors, and non-Jews as well (Matt. 5:43–44). There is even a “rider” attached to the policy in the form of a parable that extends coverage to people like Samaritans, indeed, anyone in need (Luke 10:25–37). The apostle Paul went so far as to instruct Christians to “consider others better than yourselves” (Phil. 2:3; cf. Rom. 12:3).

The prophet Micah declared that God requires the faithful to act justly and to love mercy (as the outcome of walking humbly with God, Mic. 6:8). For the prophet Isaiah specific acts of justice and mercy include encouraging the oppressed and pleading the cases of orphans and widows (Isa. 1:17). The New Testament offers similar instruction, emphasizing simple deeds like the provision of food and clothing for those in need (Matt. 10:42; James 2:14–17). Practically speaking, the Chronicler’s wideness of heart and openness of mind demonstrates itself in deeds of social service and social action as exemplified in the book of Amos (see Fig 6 on the following page).

The key to proper development of Christian social concern is sound biblical doctrine, especially a doctrine of God that recognizes him as the Creator and sustainer of creation, deliverer of his people, merciful God of all nations, and a God who hates evil and loves justice because he is concerned for the whole of humankind. It includes a doctrine of humanity that understands that all persons are God’s creatures and that the reality of cause and effect in human social experience is due to sin. But as one values human beings created in the image of God, the desire to serve them increases.

Although the Chronicler would agree that sound doctrine informs our sense of Christian “charity,” I suspect he would still challenge us, Levitical preacher that he is, to personalize our theology of inclusiveness by looking after “orphans and widows in their distress” (i.e., attending to the socially disadvantaged and oppressed among all people groups; cf. James 1:27). I can imagine his joy among the assembly of the righteous from every nation, tribe, people, and language before God’s throne—knowing that the gender and ethnic diversity sprinkled through his genealogies of ancient Israel are but a portent of what God will do among the nations through the gospel of Jesus Christ (cf. Rev. 7:9)!

Original Meaning

Ephraim (7:20–29)

THE SEQUENTIAL TREATMENT of the two Joseph tribes is logical, fitting the biblical pattern of treating Ephraim and Manasseh as a related sociopolitical entity (cf. Deut. 34:2). Often Ephraim is placed first when paired with Manasseh because of Jacob’s blessing of Ephraim prior to Manasseh (over the protest of Joseph), though Manasseh was the older of the brothers (Gen. 48:20). The Chronicler’s order of Manasseh followed by Ephraim is explained on the basis of geographical location of the northern tribes, since the genealogy of Western Manasseh (7:14–19) connects more naturally with the list of Transjordan clans of Manasseh recorded earlier (5:23–26). The section combines three literary units: the genealogy of Ephraim through Joshua (7:20–21a, 25–27), interrupted by a historical footnote concerning Ezer and Elead (7:21b–24), and capped by a name list of settlements occupied by the tribe of Ephraim (7:28–29).

The Chronicler’s genealogy of Ephraim corresponds to the tribal list of Numbers 26:35–36 only in the name and position of Shuthelah. The vertical genealogy is a feature unique to the Chronicler (i.e., “A, his son B, his son C, etc.”; cf. the Kohathite genealogies, 6:22–28, 33–38). The genealogy concludes with Joshua son of Nun, descendant of Ephraim and successor of Moses (7:27; cf. Deut. 34:9). The reference to Joshua is in keeping with the Chronicler’s emphasis on the Israelite conquest and occupation of the land of covenant promise. The historical anecdote sandwiched between the two halves of the genealogy seems to serve the same purpose. The reference to Gath (1 Chron. 7:21) is probably the Gittaim mentioned in 2 Samuel 4:3, and the account probably dates to the Israelite settlement in Canaan.14 The Ephraim in this narrative must be a later descendant of the clan patriarch Ephraim (7:20).

The story of Ezer and Elead is unique to Chronicles. Commentators are quick to note that the historical interlude serves etiological purposes, explaining the name Beriah (or “misfortune,” 7:23 [similar to the Jabez story, 4:9–10]) and the place name Uzzen Sheerah (7:24). The Chronicler, however, inserts the account as an example of temporary loss and setback overcome providentially by human initiative. What better way to remind his audience that the setback of the Exile was only temporary? The addendum to the historical footnote celebrating Sheerah as the builder of Beth Horon is remarkable for the prominence accorded a woman, but not out of character for the Chronicler. This story too, emphasizing the accomplishments of an individual, serves to encourage each member of the postexilic community to become involved in restoring Israel to its former glory.

The phrase “the descendants of Joseph” (7:29) indicates that the name list of settlements includes geographical information pertinent to both Manasseh and Ephraim. This recital of the towns and villages occupied by the Joseph tribes roughly corresponds to Joshua 16–17. It is possible the cities represented the southern and northern limits of the combined territories of Manasseh and Ephraim.

Specifically, Bethel (7:28) was conquered by the Joseph tribes (Judg. 1:22) but was assigned to Benjamin as a border city (Josh. 18:22). The occupation of Gezer (1 Chron. 7:28) suggests the time of the united monarchy and marks the eventual success of the Israelites in wresting real estate from the Canaanites (cf. Josh. 16:10). The political control of Shechem (1 Chron. 7:28) shifted according to historical period. Shechem lay within the territory of Manasseh (Josh. 17:7), but it may have been one of those cities in Manasseh set aside as a haven for Ephraimites (cf. Josh. 16:9). The location of Ayyah (1 Chron. 7:28) is unknown.

The Ephraimite cities of Beth Shan, Taanach, Megiddo, and Dor were properly located in the territories of Issachar and Asher. According to Joshua 17:11–13, these cities remained bastions of Canaanite influence. Japhet contends the Chronicler includes the Joseph-tribes settlement report for the sake of harmonizing Israelite historical geography with the list of Levitical cities located in the territories of Manasseh and Ephraim (cf. 6:67, 71).15 It seems equally important to the Chronicler that the earlier records of the incomplete conquest and occupation of Canaan under Joshua be brought to satisfactory closure.

Bridging Contexts

THE NATURE OF the message of the genealogical prologue in Chronicles is emotional as much as it is theological. The Chronicler wants to bolster morale and encourage participatory ownership of the postexilic restoration effort by appealing to the collective identity of Israel embodied in the names filling the genealogical rolls. The problem for him is twofold. (1) How does one motivate the individual to become proactive in the initiatives to restore Judah and Jerusalem, given the emphasis on corporate or national identity in ancient Israel? (2) Once the individual has been spurred into action, how does one ensure that the newly found imagination and energy will be applied to community as well as to self-interests?

This is the challenge facing the Chronicler: motivating the individual while maintaining the value of corporate responsibility in the covenant community. He chooses to do that in a couple of ways in the genealogical prologue, effectively using the powerful medium of personal story to engage and elicit a response from his audience. One cannot help but wonder if the Chronicler’s blending of genealogy and report or story is not the literary precursor of the catalog of “faithful witnesses” recorded in the book of Hebrews 11.

One type of story inserted strategically throughout the genealogies by the Chronicler is known in terms of literary form as the anecdote or the exploit report. This historical sidelight records a significant event or experience in the life of a person listed in the genealogy.16 A striking example of the anecdote is the story of Jabez, who changes the course of his own destiny as a result of his faithful prayers to God (4:9–10). The exploit report records a deed or event in the life of one person that has ramifications for the entire family or clan, whether for their welfare or hurt. For example, the adventures of the brave but idolatrous warriors of Manasseh resulted in exile in Assyria for the members of that Joseph tribe (5:24–26). By the same token, the Gadite warriors extended the tribal boundaries and increased the agricultural prosperity of the people because they trusted in God (5:20–22).

This section of the Chronicler’s genealogical prologue offers examples of both the anecdote and the exploit report. In each case the stories feature women, and the parallel accounts focus attention on the entwined histories of the Joseph tribes of Manasseh and Ephraim. (1) The first story is little more than a one line allusion to an episode of the post-Exodus desert wanderings of Israel (7:15b; cf. Num. 27:1–11). The mere fact that Zelophehad’s name appears in the Chronicler’s genealogy of Manasseh centuries later is testimony to the precedent-setting efforts of his enterprising daughters. Not only did they secure an inheritance of property in the land of covenant promise for the family, but also their bold and counterculture request was responsible for preserving the name of sonless Zelophehad for posterity (cf. Num. 27:4). (1) The story of Sheerah, the half-tribe’s counterpart of Zelophehad’s daughters, is no less striking as we learn she was the founder of three Ephraimite cities (7:24).

We have already noted an openness on the part of the Chronicler to relationships between Israel and other nations (cf. 4:18). Now we uncover an emphasis on precedent-setting initiatives by women in the genealogical prologue that suggests the Chronicler is seeking to encourage women to become active in the restoration of postexilic Jerusalem. Allen has aptly reflected that “we would do well to ponder and emulate” such wideness of heart and openness of mind.17

Contemporary Significance

INCLUSIVISM. No doubt there are those among the Chronicler’s audience who question the value of reciting the names and stories rehearsing the departed glory and checkered history of the Israelite tribes. Other biblical texts from the postexilic period indicate the Chronicler faced a problem similar to that of our own postmodern era, an incredulity toward any metanarrative.18 That is, society validates (even celebrates) the experience of the individual but voids the notion that any universal concept or common story exists in which that corporate experience might be framed and given meaning or coherence.

Fundamentally, the problem is the same for fallen people in fallen cultures in any century. How does a society establish a shared vision that affirms individual expression but retains group solidarity? What sociological mechanism encourages a meaningful and productive relationship between the “one” and the “many” in a group or social unit? Historically, societies have relied on some form of “law” to regulate individual behavior and appealed to some type of “authority figure” (e.g., political and/or religious) to stabilize and direct the individuals confederated into a group.19

The genealogical prologue of the Chronicler suggests an Old Testament principle broad enough to encompass the individual (whether Hebrew or non-Hebrew, man or woman, royal or peasant) and sufficiently compelling in its ideology to unify diverse people groups. For the Chronicler the only viable metanarrative or universal story for Israel is the Abrahamic covenant (Gen. 12:1–3; cf. 1 Chron. 1:28). This term covenant is central to the discussion of metanarrative or universal story. The purpose of law is to regulate existing relationships in a society by orderly means (i.e., the application of its monopoly of force). By contrast, the purpose of covenant is “to create new relationships in accordance with stipulations given in advance” (e.g., marriage).20

Briefly stated, God’s covenant with Abram (later renamed Abraham) and Sarai (later renamed Sarah) is a story of the relationship between the one and the many in both vertical (theological) and horizontal (sociological) dimensions. This treaty of grant established a new relationship between God and the “parents” of the nation of Israel, so much so that Abraham has the title “friend of God” elsewhere in Scripture (cf. 2 Chron. 20:7; Isa. 41:8; James 2:23). The Abrahamic covenant established a new relationship with all humanity as well, seen in the attendant blessing of the nations (Gen. 12:3). The Chronicler’s repeated references to non-Hebrew individuals in the genealogical prologue emphasizes this fact.

One fundamental fallacy of postmodernity is the denial of a metanarrative or universal story expansive enough to include all the “islands” of human knowledge and experience.21 Postmodernism’s skepticism toward a meta-narrative of any sort must ignore, however, a universal reality printed daily in every newspaper and broadcast each evening in news programs around the world—the evil bent of the human heart. The question is not whether a metanarrative capable of explaining and unifying human experience exists. Rather, the question is whether there is a universal story capable of overcoming the metanarrative of what the Bible describes as the fall of humanity, the story of “paradise lost” (cf. Gen. 3). The Chronicler would quickly answer, “Of course! Surely you know the story of Abraham and Sarah!”

The contemporary Christian reader of the Bible, however, may not be impressed with the Chronicler’s answer. After all, Abraham and Sarah belonged to the old covenant, and the new covenant has been established in Jesus Christ for some twenty centuries now. Wilcock’s reminder concerning the application of the message of Chronicles to the life of the church proves helpful in our discussion: “In changing circumstances, seek the unchanging principles.”22

The changing circumstances in terms of Old Testament history include Israel’s relationship to the surrounding nations, given the ever-shifting political landscape of the ancient Near East. The constant amid the rise and fall of Israel’s political fortunes is God’s promise to Abraham and Sarah to build a great nation through them and to bless all nations through that socioreligious entity (Gen. 12:1–3). Isaiah the prophet brings even greater definition to the Abrahamic covenant with his pronouncements that Israel is God’s instrument for bringing “light to the nations” and “salvation to the ends of the earth” (cf. Isa. 42:1–4; 45:22; 51:4–5). Stated differently, God’s election of Israel is for the sake of “inclusion,” choosing one nation to bless all nations and to establish them among God’s people (cf. Jer. 12:15–16).23

The new covenant echoes this message of “good news” for all people, seen in Simeon’s confession of Jesus as “a light for revelation to the Gentiles” (Luke 2:24) and in the sermons of the John the Baptist proclaiming salvation for all humankind (Luke 3:6). Likewise, the kingdom parables of Jesus illustrate the “inclusiveness” of God’s plan of redemption as the “seed” of the gospel is sown throughout the world (Matt. 13:38). Jesus Christ, then, is the mediator of a new covenant (Heb. 9:15), and it is through this covenant that God is reconciling the world to himself (2 Cor. 5:19), thus creating that new relationship and establishing that new metanarrative for all of human history: the story of “paradise regained.”

The inclusive nature of the covenants, old and new, permits the application of an unchanging biblical principle to changing historical and cultural circumstances—the principle of inclusion itself! The theme of including the Gentiles in the covenant promises to Israel encases the message of the entire Bible, much like an envelope or even bookends. The opening chapters of Genesis introduces the table of nations (Gen. 10) and God’s promise to bless all nations (12:1–3), and the concluding book of the Bible depicts the nations surrounding the throne of God in worship (Rev. 5:9–10; 7:9–10; etc.).

It is not enough, however, to merely recognize such inclusivism as one of the themes that unifies the two covenants of our one Bible. The greater questions of application at both the macro-level and the micro-level remain: What does the church do with its knowledge of this theme of inclusion in biblical theology? How does the individual Christian develop and implement a practical theology of inclusion in daily life?

At the macro-level, it seems that the church established on the confession that Jesus is the Christ simply needs to reaffirm those “first principles” that have defined its history:

• a capacity for worship that transcends all human convention, facilitating a corporate experience that enables all believers to encounter the holiness and mystery of the Godhead and thereby empowering them for acts of service to a needy world24

• a fervent heart for evangelism, recalling on a regular basis the biblical teaching that the good news of God’s plan of redemption is for all people (2 Peter 3:9) because God does not delight in the death of any wicked person (Ezek. 18:23, 32)

• a compassionate spirit that promotes reconciliation through Christ, who reconciles all things to himself (Col. 1:20) and brings harmony and healing to all those relationships in disrepair, whether racial, inter-generational, or familial (2 Cor. 5:18–20; cf. Luke 1:17)

• a vision for ministry that unleashes all the gifts of the Holy Spirit so that the entire body of Christ might be built up (Eph. 4:12)25

• a community of fellowship rooted in mutual love (John 13:34–35), constantly seeking the common ground of “one hope … one Lord, one faith” (Eph. 4:4–5)

At the micro-level, each of us can learn a lesson from the Chronicler’s “wideness of heart and openness of mind.” Jesus taught that Christians are known by their love for each other (John 13:34–35) and their tendency to do acts of kindness for those who cannot repay in like manner (Luke 14:12–14). The Chronicler would approve of such Christian “charity.” (I choose the term charity deliberately, known to us from the KJV, esp. 1 Cor. 13:13.) It signifies love in action for the benefit of others, not some amorphous and selfish feeling or gratifying personal experience that now passes for “love” in our culture.

The Chronicler would approve of the notion of “Christian charity” because he has already grasped the Old Testament principles on which the theology of Christian charity rests. (1) The Chronicler understands that with God there is no partiality or respect of persons since all human beings are created in his image (2 Chron. 19:7; cf. Deut. 1:17; 10:17). Since the charge to Israel was to be holy even as God is holy (Lev. 11:44), it is only natural that the Chronicler would apply this precept to human relationships. The New Testament echoes this sentiment about God who “does not show favoritism but accepts [people] from every nation who fear him and do what is right” (Acts 10:34–35). Likewise, Christians are not to show favoritism (or discrimination) when dealing with others in any venue (James 2:1; cf. Eph. 6:9; Col. 3:25).

(2) The Chronicler is apparently a subscriber to the “good neighbor policy” found in the Mosaic law: “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). Again, the New Testament affirms this Old Testament principle. In fact, Jesus extends the coverage of the “good neighbor policy” to include enemies, persecutors, and non-Jews as well (Matt. 5:43–44). There is even a “rider” attached to the policy in the form of a parable that extends coverage to people like Samaritans, indeed, anyone in need (Luke 10:25–37). The apostle Paul went so far as to instruct Christians to “consider others better than yourselves” (Phil. 2:3; cf. Rom. 12:3).

The prophet Micah declared that God requires the faithful to act justly and to love mercy (as the outcome of walking humbly with God, Mic. 6:8). For the prophet Isaiah specific acts of justice and mercy include encouraging the oppressed and pleading the cases of orphans and widows (Isa. 1:17). The New Testament offers similar instruction, emphasizing simple deeds like the provision of food and clothing for those in need (Matt. 10:42; James 2:14–17). Practically speaking, the Chronicler’s wideness of heart and openness of mind demonstrates itself in deeds of social service and social action as exemplified in the book of Amos (see Fig 6 on the following page).

The key to proper development of Christian social concern is sound biblical doctrine, especially a doctrine of God that recognizes him as the Creator and sustainer of creation, deliverer of his people, merciful God of all nations, and a God who hates evil and loves justice because he is concerned for the whole of humankind. It includes a doctrine of humanity that understands that all persons are God’s creatures and that the reality of cause and effect in human social experience is due to sin. But as one values human beings created in the image of God, the desire to serve them increases.

Although the Chronicler would agree that sound doctrine informs our sense of Christian “charity,” I suspect he would still challenge us, Levitical preacher that he is, to personalize our theology of inclusiveness by looking after “orphans and widows in their distress” (i.e., attending to the socially disadvantaged and oppressed among all people groups; cf. James 1:27). I can imagine his joy among the assembly of the righteous from every nation, tribe, people, and language before God’s throne—knowing that the gender and ethnic diversity sprinkled through his genealogies of ancient Israel are but a portent of what God will do among the nations through the gospel of Jesus Christ (cf. Rev. 7:9)!

Original Meaning

Asher (7:30–40)

ASHER WAS THE son of Zilpah, the handmaid of Leah (Gen. 46:18). The genealogy apparently combines the first- and second-generation clan names from several earlier sources, including Genesis 46:17–18 (cf. Num. 26:44–46, which names only three sons of Asher), an unknown source that cites additional descendants of Asher, and the muster roll of Asher from the military census of King David (1 Chron. 7:40). Structurally, the genealogy of Asher mirrors the opening register of Issachar, tracing only one clan in the segmented genealogy (Beriah, 7:31).

As in 2:1–2. Asher concludes the tribal list. Asher is cited after Naphtali and Gad in that passage, but here Asher is preceded by the tribes of Manasseh and Ephraim. The tribe of Asher settled the region of western Galilee, so it is possible the military census that served as the primary source for the Chronicler catalogued the tribes on the basis of geographical location moving from east to west. The attrition in the muster roll to 26,000 (7:40) from 41,500 (Num. 1:40–41) and 53,400 (26:47) testifies to the misfortunes experienced by this tribe.

Bridging Contexts

THE NATURE OF the message of the genealogical prologue in Chronicles is emotional as much as it is theological. The Chronicler wants to bolster morale and encourage participatory ownership of the postexilic restoration effort by appealing to the collective identity of Israel embodied in the names filling the genealogical rolls. The problem for him is twofold. (1) How does one motivate the individual to become proactive in the initiatives to restore Judah and Jerusalem, given the emphasis on corporate or national identity in ancient Israel? (2) Once the individual has been spurred into action, how does one ensure that the newly found imagination and energy will be applied to community as well as to self-interests?

This is the challenge facing the Chronicler: motivating the individual while maintaining the value of corporate responsibility in the covenant community. He chooses to do that in a couple of ways in the genealogical prologue, effectively using the powerful medium of personal story to engage and elicit a response from his audience. One cannot help but wonder if the Chronicler’s blending of genealogy and report or story is not the literary precursor of the catalog of “faithful witnesses” recorded in the book of Hebrews 11.

One type of story inserted strategically throughout the genealogies by the Chronicler is known in terms of literary form as the anecdote or the exploit report. This historical sidelight records a significant event or experience in the life of a person listed in the genealogy.16 A striking example of the anecdote is the story of Jabez, who changes the course of his own destiny as a result of his faithful prayers to God (4:9–10). The exploit report records a deed or event in the life of one person that has ramifications for the entire family or clan, whether for their welfare or hurt. For example, the adventures of the brave but idolatrous warriors of Manasseh resulted in exile in Assyria for the members of that Joseph tribe (5:24–26). By the same token, the Gadite warriors extended the tribal boundaries and increased the agricultural prosperity of the people because they trusted in God (5:20–22).

This section of the Chronicler’s genealogical prologue offers examples of both the anecdote and the exploit report. In each case the stories feature women, and the parallel accounts focus attention on the entwined histories of the Joseph tribes of Manasseh and Ephraim. (1) The first story is little more than a one line allusion to an episode of the post-Exodus desert wanderings of Israel (7:15b; cf. Num. 27:1–11). The mere fact that Zelophehad’s name appears in the Chronicler’s genealogy of Manasseh centuries later is testimony to the precedent-setting efforts of his enterprising daughters. Not only did they secure an inheritance of property in the land of covenant promise for the family, but also their bold and counterculture request was responsible for preserving the name of sonless Zelophehad for posterity (cf. Num. 27:4). (1) The story of Sheerah, the half-tribe’s counterpart of Zelophehad’s daughters, is no less striking as we learn she was the founder of three Ephraimite cities (7:24).

We have already noted an openness on the part of the Chronicler to relationships between Israel and other nations (cf. 4:18). Now we uncover an emphasis on precedent-setting initiatives by women in the genealogical prologue that suggests the Chronicler is seeking to encourage women to become active in the restoration of postexilic Jerusalem. Allen has aptly reflected that “we would do well to ponder and emulate” such wideness of heart and openness of mind.17

Contemporary Significance

INCLUSIVISM. No doubt there are those among the Chronicler’s audience who question the value of reciting the names and stories rehearsing the departed glory and checkered history of the Israelite tribes. Other biblical texts from the postexilic period indicate the Chronicler faced a problem similar to that of our own postmodern era, an incredulity toward any metanarrative.18 That is, society validates (even celebrates) the experience of the individual but voids the notion that any universal concept or common story exists in which that corporate experience might be framed and given meaning or coherence.

Fundamentally, the problem is the same for fallen people in fallen cultures in any century. How does a society establish a shared vision that affirms individual expression but retains group solidarity? What sociological mechanism encourages a meaningful and productive relationship between the “one” and the “many” in a group or social unit? Historically, societies have relied on some form of “law” to regulate individual behavior and appealed to some type of “authority figure” (e.g., political and/or religious) to stabilize and direct the individuals confederated into a group.19

The genealogical prologue of the Chronicler suggests an Old Testament principle broad enough to encompass the individual (whether Hebrew or non-Hebrew, man or woman, royal or peasant) and sufficiently compelling in its ideology to unify diverse people groups. For the Chronicler the only viable metanarrative or universal story for Israel is the Abrahamic covenant (Gen. 12:1–3; cf. 1 Chron. 1:28). This term covenant is central to the discussion of metanarrative or universal story. The purpose of law is to regulate existing relationships in a society by orderly means (i.e., the application of its monopoly of force). By contrast, the purpose of covenant is “to create new relationships in accordance with stipulations given in advance” (e.g., marriage).20

Briefly stated, God’s covenant with Abram (later renamed Abraham) and Sarai (later renamed Sarah) is a story of the relationship between the one and the many in both vertical (theological) and horizontal (sociological) dimensions. This treaty of grant established a new relationship between God and the “parents” of the nation of Israel, so much so that Abraham has the title “friend of God” elsewhere in Scripture (cf. 2 Chron. 20:7; Isa. 41:8; James 2:23). The Abrahamic covenant established a new relationship with all humanity as well, seen in the attendant blessing of the nations (Gen. 12:3). The Chronicler’s repeated references to non-Hebrew individuals in the genealogical prologue emphasizes this fact.

One fundamental fallacy of postmodernity is the denial of a metanarrative or universal story expansive enough to include all the “islands” of human knowledge and experience.21 Postmodernism’s skepticism toward a meta-narrative of any sort must ignore, however, a universal reality printed daily in every newspaper and broadcast each evening in news programs around the world—the evil bent of the human heart. The question is not whether a metanarrative capable of explaining and unifying human experience exists. Rather, the question is whether there is a universal story capable of overcoming the metanarrative of what the Bible describes as the fall of humanity, the story of “paradise lost” (cf. Gen. 3). The Chronicler would quickly answer, “Of course! Surely you know the story of Abraham and Sarah!”

The contemporary Christian reader of the Bible, however, may not be impressed with the Chronicler’s answer. After all, Abraham and Sarah belonged to the old covenant, and the new covenant has been established in Jesus Christ for some twenty centuries now. Wilcock’s reminder concerning the application of the message of Chronicles to the life of the church proves helpful in our discussion: “In changing circumstances, seek the unchanging principles.”22

The changing circumstances in terms of Old Testament history include Israel’s relationship to the surrounding nations, given the ever-shifting political landscape of the ancient Near East. The constant amid the rise and fall of Israel’s political fortunes is God’s promise to Abraham and Sarah to build a great nation through them and to bless all nations through that socioreligious entity (Gen. 12:1–3). Isaiah the prophet brings even greater definition to the Abrahamic covenant with his pronouncements that Israel is God’s instrument for bringing “light to the nations” and “salvation to the ends of the earth” (cf. Isa. 42:1–4; 45:22; 51:4–5). Stated differently, God’s election of Israel is for the sake of “inclusion,” choosing one nation to bless all nations and to establish them among God’s people (cf. Jer. 12:15–16).23

The new covenant echoes this message of “good news” for all people, seen in Simeon’s confession of Jesus as “a light for revelation to the Gentiles” (Luke 2:24) and in the sermons of the John the Baptist proclaiming salvation for all humankind (Luke 3:6). Likewise, the kingdom parables of Jesus illustrate the “inclusiveness” of God’s plan of redemption as the “seed” of the gospel is sown throughout the world (Matt. 13:38). Jesus Christ, then, is the mediator of a new covenant (Heb. 9:15), and it is through this covenant that God is reconciling the world to himself (2 Cor. 5:19), thus creating that new relationship and establishing that new metanarrative for all of human history: the story of “paradise regained.”

The inclusive nature of the covenants, old and new, permits the application of an unchanging biblical principle to changing historical and cultural circumstances—the principle of inclusion itself! The theme of including the Gentiles in the covenant promises to Israel encases the message of the entire Bible, much like an envelope or even bookends. The opening chapters of Genesis introduces the table of nations (Gen. 10) and God’s promise to bless all nations (12:1–3), and the concluding book of the Bible depicts the nations surrounding the throne of God in worship (Rev. 5:9–10; 7:9–10; etc.).

It is not enough, however, to merely recognize such inclusivism as one of the themes that unifies the two covenants of our one Bible. The greater questions of application at both the macro-level and the micro-level remain: What does the church do with its knowledge of this theme of inclusion in biblical theology? How does the individual Christian develop and implement a practical theology of inclusion in daily life?

At the macro-level, it seems that the church established on the confession that Jesus is the Christ simply needs to reaffirm those “first principles” that have defined its history:

• a capacity for worship that transcends all human convention, facilitating a corporate experience that enables all believers to encounter the holiness and mystery of the Godhead and thereby empowering them for acts of service to a needy world24

• a fervent heart for evangelism, recalling on a regular basis the biblical teaching that the good news of God’s plan of redemption is for all people (2 Peter 3:9) because God does not delight in the death of any wicked person (Ezek. 18:23, 32)

• a compassionate spirit that promotes reconciliation through Christ, who reconciles all things to himself (Col. 1:20) and brings harmony and healing to all those relationships in disrepair, whether racial, inter-generational, or familial (2 Cor. 5:18–20; cf. Luke 1:17)

• a vision for ministry that unleashes all the gifts of the Holy Spirit so that the entire body of Christ might be built up (Eph. 4:12)25

• a community of fellowship rooted in mutual love (John 13:34–35), constantly seeking the common ground of “one hope … one Lord, one faith” (Eph. 4:4–5)

At the micro-level, each of us can learn a lesson from the Chronicler’s “wideness of heart and openness of mind.” Jesus taught that Christians are known by their love for each other (John 13:34–35) and their tendency to do acts of kindness for those who cannot repay in like manner (Luke 14:12–14). The Chronicler would approve of such Christian “charity.” (I choose the term charity deliberately, known to us from the KJV, esp. 1 Cor. 13:13.) It signifies love in action for the benefit of others, not some amorphous and selfish feeling or gratifying personal experience that now passes for “love” in our culture.

The Chronicler would approve of the notion of “Christian charity” because he has already grasped the Old Testament principles on which the theology of Christian charity rests. (1) The Chronicler understands that with God there is no partiality or respect of persons since all human beings are created in his image (2 Chron. 19:7; cf. Deut. 1:17; 10:17). Since the charge to Israel was to be holy even as God is holy (Lev. 11:44), it is only natural that the Chronicler would apply this precept to human relationships. The New Testament echoes this sentiment about God who “does not show favoritism but accepts [people] from every nation who fear him and do what is right” (Acts 10:34–35). Likewise, Christians are not to show favoritism (or discrimination) when dealing with others in any venue (James 2:1; cf. Eph. 6:9; Col. 3:25).

(2) The Chronicler is apparently a subscriber to the “good neighbor policy” found in the Mosaic law: “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). Again, the New Testament affirms this Old Testament principle. In fact, Jesus extends the coverage of the “good neighbor policy” to include enemies, persecutors, and non-Jews as well (Matt. 5:43–44). There is even a “rider” attached to the policy in the form of a parable that extends coverage to people like Samaritans, indeed, anyone in need (Luke 10:25–37). The apostle Paul went so far as to instruct Christians to “consider others better than yourselves” (Phil. 2:3; cf. Rom. 12:3).

The prophet Micah declared that God requires the faithful to act justly and to love mercy (as the outcome of walking humbly with God, Mic. 6:8). For the prophet Isaiah specific acts of justice and mercy include encouraging the oppressed and pleading the cases of orphans and widows (Isa. 1:17). The New Testament offers similar instruction, emphasizing simple deeds like the provision of food and clothing for those in need (Matt. 10:42; James 2:14–17). Practically speaking, the Chronicler’s wideness of heart and openness of mind demonstrates itself in deeds of social service and social action as exemplified in the book of Amos (see Fig 6 on the following page).

The key to proper development of Christian social concern is sound biblical doctrine, especially a doctrine of God that recognizes him as the Creator and sustainer of creation, deliverer of his people, merciful God of all nations, and a God who hates evil and loves justice because he is concerned for the whole of humankind. It includes a doctrine of humanity that understands that all persons are God’s creatures and that the reality of cause and effect in human social experience is due to sin. But as one values human beings created in the image of God, the desire to serve them increases.

Although the Chronicler would agree that sound doctrine informs our sense of Christian “charity,” I suspect he would still challenge us, Levitical preacher that he is, to personalize our theology of inclusiveness by looking after “orphans and widows in their distress” (i.e., attending to the socially disadvantaged and oppressed among all people groups; cf. James 1:27). I can imagine his joy among the assembly of the righteous from every nation, tribe, people, and language before God’s throne—knowing that the gender and ethnic diversity sprinkled through his genealogies of ancient Israel are but a portent of what God will do among the nations through the gospel of Jesus Christ (cf. Rev. 7:9)!