جارٍ تحميل الأرشيف الحي.
Creation, the Patriarchs, Exodus, and the Conquest
واصِل الاستكشاف
مرتبطة بالمقطع الكتابي أو بموضوعات مشتركة.
Welcome to the first session of Going Deeper, an experimental series exploring the Old Testament across three weeks. We'll begin by examining the Old Testament through nine distinct historical eras, helping us understand the arc of God's plan from creation through the return from exile.
Before we dive in, a few practical notes: Chris Wright has generously provided free study books available at the back. These sessions will finish by 5:45 p.m. to allow time for setup for the evening's Encounter service, which you're welcome to attend. Sessions are being recorded and will be available online for later viewing.
لم تُترجم هذه الصفحة بالكامل بعد. يظهر بعض النص أدناه أو كله بلغة English، وهي لغته الأصلية.
Many people find the Old Testament confusing because of how it's organized in our Bibles—not chronologically, but by literary category. However, the Old Testament deserves our attention because it was Jesus's Bible. He based his entire life and ministry upon it, so understanding the Old Testament deepens our understanding of Jesus.
The Old Testament contains 39 books organized into four main sections:
This structure—17 history books, 5 wisdom books, and 17 prophetic books—reveals the beautiful symmetry of Scripture.
Throughout all three weeks, we'll see that the kingdom of God is the driving motif of the whole Bible. When we talk about God's kingdom, we mean:
God's people in God's place under God's Rule and blessing—and being a blessing to others.
This promise comes directly from God's covenant with Abraham in Genesis 12. It's the thread that runs through every era of Old Testament history.
The Old Testament spans roughly 2,000 years from Abraham to the birth of Jesus. However, of those 2,000 years, 800 are silent:
This leaves only 1,200 years of recorded biblical history to study—much more manageable!
The nine eras are:
Today we'll focus on the first four eras.
Many Christians have lost confidence in the opening chapters of Genesis due to scientism, evolutionism, and materialistic worldviews. Yet without a firm belief in God as Creator, we lose all sense of origins and meaning. The word "Genesis" comes from the same root as "genes" and "genetics"—it's about origins. These chapters locate our human story within God's good purposes.
Without understanding the Genesis account of creation, we're at a loss to explain human suffering. But the Judeo-Christian tradition gives a clear understanding: sin entered the world through human rebellion, and that's the root of all suffering.
The biblical creation account is unique among ancient Near Eastern creation myths. While other creation stories result in more chaos, with gods themselves being chaotic, the biblical account brings order and justice out of chaos.
Notice the structure of creation:
Days 1-3: Forming
Days 4-6: Filling
Right at the beginning of creation, there is justice and equality. Everyone is together, blessed by God.
God creates all things and calls them good. After the sixth day, God rests and blesses the seventh day, making it holy. This is not just a day off—it's a pattern for rhythm and worship.
Adam and Eve eat from the tree of knowledge, and sin enters the world. But notice what God does immediately: He promises that one will come who will crush the serpent's head.
"I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel." (Genesis 3:15)
This promise runs through all of Scripture. Every major figure in Israel's history prompts the question: Will this be the serpent crusher? Will Abraham be the one? Will Moses? This thread culminates in Jesus, who defeats sin and death.
After the Fall, humanity enters a cycle of sin, vengeance, and death. Genesis 5 is often called the gloomiest chapter in all of Scripture—a genealogy where, after each name, we read: "and then he died, and then he died, and then he died..."
Yet even here, there's a glimmer of hope: Enoch walked with the Lord, and he was no more, because God took him (Genesis 5:24). In the midst of death, there's a hint of relationship with God and escape from death's grip.
As sin multiplies, God sends judgment. But the flood story isn't primarily about destruction—it's about God's patience and the preservation of hope.
After the waters recede, Noah sends out a dove. The dove returns with an olive branch, signaling that judgment has ended. This dove becomes an image of peace and God's mercy.
Interestingly, the next time we see a dove with similar meaning is at Jesus's baptism, when the Holy Spirit descends like a dove. For those steeped in the Old Testament, that image would have recalled the ancient truth: God's judgment is satisfied, and peace is restored.
At Babel, humanity reaches upward to make a name for themselves and become like God. God responds by confusing their languages and scattering them across the earth.
This is expressed in a beautiful Hebrew structure:
However, this story isn't the end! On the Day of Pentecost, all the effects of Babel are reversed:
The Patriarchal era covers Genesis 12-50 and focuses on four figures: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob (Israel), and Joseph. This era spans roughly 670 years, though 400 of those are silent years in Egypt.
God's call comes to Abraham (though interestingly, God first called Abraham's father, Terah, to leave Ur). Terah got as far as Haran and stopped. How many of us are carrying ministry calls that were first given to someone else but never pursued? Abraham picks up the call and completes the journey to Canaan.
God makes Abraham a remarkable promise:
"Go to the land I will show you. I will make you a great nation, and I will bless you. You will be a blessing to many nations." (Genesis 12, paraphrased)
But there's a problem: Abraham is old, and his wife Sarah is barren. How can this promise ever come true?
One of the most extraordinary chapters in all of Scripture shows us how serious God is about His promise. God invites Abraham to perform an ancient Near Eastern covenant ritual:
Abraham brings three animals (a heifer, a goat, and a ram), slaughters them, and lays the halves in a row. In ancient Near Eastern culture, when a king defeated another king, he would force the defeated king to walk between the carcasses of slaughtered animals—essentially saying, "If I break this promise, may the same happen to me."
But here's the extraordinary thing: God walks through the animals, not Abraham. God is saying:
Abraham, I'm taking this gruesome ancient custom and using it to show you how serious I am. If I break my promise to you, may it be done to me—and God alone has the power to make that stick.
This passage also provides insight into one of the most difficult questions about the Old Testament: How could God command the conquest of Canaan? God tells Abraham:
Your descendants will come back here after 400 years, "because the sin of the Amorites has not yet reached its full measure." (Genesis 15:16, paraphrased)
This reveals God's patience. God gives the people of Canaan 400 years to repent. The archaeological and historical silence we see in the Bible likely corresponds to God's activity—sending prophets, calling people to repentance, giving them opportunity after opportunity to turn to Him.
When Abraham and Sarah attempt to fulfill God's promise through human effort (Sarah gives Abraham her servant Hagar), the result is Ishmael. Sarah then mistreats Hagar, who flees into the desert.
Here's something remarkable: The first appearance of "the Angel of the Lord" in Scripture is not to a great patriarch, but to a runaway Egyptian slave girl.
Hagar encounters God and names Him:
"You are the God who sees me." (Genesis 16:13)
This is the first and most tender naming of God in Scripture. Even the invisible, the powerless, the enslaved are seen by God. He notices her. He cares for her. He makes promises to her.
God tests Abraham in one of Scripture's most haunting passages: He commands Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac on Mount Moriah.
Notice the echoes:
God provides a ram caught in a thicket instead, and the principle is established: God provides the sacrifice.
At the end of Genesis, an aging Jacob—having fled, deceived, struggled, and been transformed—makes a remarkable statement:
"The God who has been my shepherd all my life to this day..." (Genesis 48:15)
Despite Jacob's flaws, despite his schemes and failures, God remained faithful. God was his shepherd.
This era is covered by four books:
Moses's life unfolds in three 40-year periods:
Yet at the moment when Moses is about to enter the land—when everything he's lived for is finally happening—he tells God:
"If your presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here." (Exodus 33:15)
Moses understands that God's presence is more important than even the fulfillment of his deepest calling. This is the height of maturity in faith.
When Moses asks to see God's glory, God proclaims His name and character:
"The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished." (Exodus 34:6-7)
This is not a different God from Jesus. Some people think the Old Testament God is harsh and the New Testament God is loving. But this passage shows God's full character: He is both perfectly loving AND perfectly just. He forgives freely, but He never ignores guilt. A worthy God must be both merciful and just.
The central event of the Exodus is Passover, a sacrificial ritual where:
This establishes a principle that runs through all of Scripture:
"Without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness." (Hebrews 9:22)
For centuries, the Jewish people repeated this ritual, sacrificing lambs year after year. Then John the Baptist saw Jesus and proclaimed: "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!"
John was Jesus's cousin. He understood exactly what he was saying. He recognized that Jesus was a Lamb in a totally different category—not a lamb that needed to be repeated, but the Lamb whose single sacrifice would deal with the sins of all humanity, past and future.
The Law, especially Leviticus, can seem inaccessible. But it reveals God's desire to have a people distinct from the nations around them. This wasn't legalism—it was God saying, "I want you to be a new kind of humanity, reflecting my character to the world."
The New Testament echoes this same call:
"You are to be holy, because I the Lord am holy, and I have set you apart from the nations to be my own." (Leviticus 20:26)
God still desires to create a new humanity—a community that reflects His love, justice, and truth to a watching world.
The Old Testament God is not distant or aloof. He dwelt in the midst of His people:
"The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend." (Exodus 33:11)
God established the Tent of Meeting—a place where anyone could go to meet with Him. It was a tent designed for two: God and the person seeking Him. And it was open all hours.
This same availability continues into the New Testament and into our own lives today.
This era also covers 40 years—a complete generation, the time it took for the wilderness generation to pass away and a new generation to arise.
The Jordan River can swell to over a mile wide. Crossing it isn't a casual walk—it's an act of faith. And here's the key: The waters only stopped flowing when the priests stepped into the river.
Sometimes God asks us to do something that seems impossible. But it's only when we actually begin, in faith, that things begin to happen. The priests had to step into the water first, and then God parted it.
This anticipates Jesus's baptism in the same Jordan River. When we place our faith in Jesus's death and follow Him in baptism, we find a gateway to eternal life—not just to a physical Promised Land, but to an eternal one.
One of the most beautiful stories of God's grace is Rahab the prostitute. Living in Jericho, somehow Rahab heard about the God of Israel and believed. She hid the Israelite spies, and when the city fell, she and her family were saved.
Rahab says:
"I know that the Lord has given you this land...for the Lord your God is God in heaven above and on the earth below." (Joshua 2:9-11)
But here's the most extraordinary thing: Rahab, the prostitute of Jericho, appears in Jesus's genealogy (Matthew 1:5). She became the wife of Salmon, the mother of Boaz, and an ancestor of King David and ultimately of Jesus Himself.
God's love and redemption extend far beyond our expectations. He sees the faith of an unlikely person in an enemy city, and He makes her part of His own family line. This is the gospel in a nutshell.
We've covered the first four eras of Old Testament history: Creation, the Patriarchs, Exodus, and the Conquest. Each era reveals God's character and His kingdom plan. God's people in God's place under God's rule and blessing—and being a blessing to others is the thread that ties it all together.
Next week, we'll continue with the Kingdom era, when Israel reaches its height, and we'll see why so much of the Old Testament is concentrated in this brief period.
These are the foundations. Understanding them deepens our understanding of Jesus and God's work in our lives today.
