God Almighty, Mighty God

Speaker A: 00:00:06

But there's something different about this Gibbor. First, unlike the self and popularly described Gibborim of mankind, this one who is mighty to save isn't puffed up with arrogant pride.

The Deep Waters Way: Where Scripture, Theology, and Transformation Meet.

Have you ever experienced a time where you thought you knew what a word meant only to find out you didn't have a clue?

Have you ever experienced that with God? You thought you understood him only to realize he is far more complex than you imagined?

What if in fact the reality you found in the person of God completely upended your expectation based upon his name?

Those questions dig into the depths we find as we truly look at the meanings behind the various names of God. And the two names we're looking at today make that abundantly clear: El Shaddai, often translated as God Almighty, and El Gibbor, the Mighty God.

The English translation makes those two names sound similar, but the meaning behind each one goes deeper than you would expect.

Before we get to that though, I'm Ray and this is The Deep Waters Way. Welcome to the show and thank you for joining in. If you would take a moment wherever you're listening and subscribe or follow so that you never miss an episode. And if you like this content and want to help support what I'm doing, there is a link to the show's support page in the show notes.

Now, grab a cup of coffee or hot tea and settle in for the journey. It's time to slip the moorings and head for the deep waters.

If you were to ask a room full of scholars about El Shaddai, you would quickly figure out that there is no consensus about the origin or the meaning of the name. And this isn't just a modern issue, or at least it doesn't appear to be, because across the time that the Hebrew scriptures were being translated into Greek, those translators seemed to have struggled with how to translate El Shaddai. And if anyone should have been able to get it right, you would think it was Jewish scholars steeped in the Old Testament that also were fluent in Greek. And yet, they use a variety of ways to translate El Shaddai into Greek.

El Shaddai is used 46 times in the Old Testament. 31 of those times are in the book of Job. And of those 31 occurrences, 16 times the translators used the Greek word pantokrator, which means almighty or all powerful. This word was then translated into Latin as omnipotens, which is directly where we get our English omnipotent from and thus almighty.

Of the remaining 15 times that El Shaddai occurs in Job, the translators often used the word hikanos, which means one who is sufficient. And when they didn't use either of those words, pantokrator or hikanos, they used a variety of other descriptive words to translate it. In other words, from the context, there was no real consensus even then of how to render this one single name.

When we look at the possible Hebrew origins of the word it actually becomes even more complex, and this could be why the Septuagint translators seem to have struggled so much. There are four root words that have been identified as being the basis for Shaddai. And while in Hebrew these roots look and sound like they should be related and the way we write them in English reinforces that, they're not related to one another at all.

However, when you look closely at the meanings behind them, two things happen. First, you find that they fall into two general themes, strength and sufficiency. And second, you find that because the Bible uses the imagery behind all four roots throughout scripture to describe God together, they actually provide a more complete picture of who God is and how he relates to us than any single one of them alone would.

So, what are those four main roots or images that are given as the source for El Shaddai? Under the strength category, we have shadu, an Akkadian word meaning mountain. We also have shadad, a Hebrew word for overwhelming strength. These words both speak to God's sovereignty and might, and are the images behind the Greek translations pantokrator or almighty.

Under sufficiency, we find shad, a Hebrew word that means chest or more frequently breast and invokes the imagery of nourishment, blessing and life itself. And then we have a compound word she-dai which the Jewish rabbi Rashi saw as meaning the God who is enough.

The associated imagery here is what is behind the other major Greek word used in the book of Job to translate Shaddai – hikanos – meaning adequate, enough, or when used with quantity a great amount.

Now, all of that may leave you thinking, "That's all well and good, but it doesn't really mean anything to me, and it all sounds dry and academic." It's not. I promise it all matters because this isn't just a classroom exercise of trying to make understandable the reality of a God who is both transcendent and imminent. Trying to pin down these meanings is actually trying to gain a clear picture of who God has revealed himself to be and that means we need to look at where he has done that and the circumstances involved in those revelations.

The first place we see El Shaddai used in scripture is Genesis 17. To get you there and to give a little recap of Abraham's life, let's back up a bit. In chapter 12, God first calls Abraham to leave his father's house and promises to bless him. In 13, Abraham and Lot separate because their combined herds are too much together. In 14, Abraham rescues Lot from the kings of the east. And we talked about this with the name El Elyon. And then in 15, God puts Abraham into a deep sleep and appears to him in a dream, making a blood covenant with him. In 16, Sarah gives her servant Hagar to Abraham to have children with. And when she does become pregnant and Sarah treats her harshly, she flees. And we're introduced to El Roi, the God who sees.

And then we get to chapter 17, which starts like this:

When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the Lord appeared to Abram and said to him, "I am El Shaddai. Walk before me and be blameless that I may make my covenant between me and you and may multiply you greatly."

Before we go any further, you need to understand something. Abraham left his father's house to follow God's call 24 years prior to this moment. 24 years ago, God promised to make him a great nation. Shortly after that, Abraham experienced famine and lied to Pharaoh about Sarah to protect himself. Some unknown number of years after that, Abraham begged God to let his servant be his heir. And we see that in chapter 15. Then almost 14 years prior to this moment, Sarah comes up with a plan to help God out and Abraham agrees and Ishmael is born. And it's now been 13 years since Ishmael's birth and God finally appears again to Abraham.

Now, there's a pattern here I want you to see. Abraham, who trusted God enough to leave his home for an unknown land, who believed God enough to rescue Lot from the kings of the east, is the same Abraham that has by his actions doubted God's strength and sufficiency repeatedly. And now God, much like Jesus does in Revelation with the church at Ephesus, is calling him back to that first moment of belief. Notice what God does. First, he introduces himself with a name we haven't seen before, El Shaddai. A name that we can't accurately or with consensus give an origin for. A name that the best thoughts out there produce four different meanings for, a name that encompasses and reveals both God's overwhelming, sovereign strength, and his abundant ability to supply every need, even life where there is no life.

And after giving Abraham a name to rely on, God gives him a command. Walk before me and be blameless. The concept of walking in the Bible often indicates a way of life. This is not a foreign idea to us either. We use it the same way. Especially when we say things like, "You talk the talk, but can you walk the walk?" What we're really asking is, "Can you live the life?" That's what God is telling Abraham, live out your life before me. He's telling Abraham, make a deliberate choice in how you live.

And God's command is that that choice is to be blameless. The Hebrew word there carries the idea of whole, complete, having integrity or being in accord with the truth. In other words, God is literally telling Abraham, you've talked the talk, now walk the walk. Live your life like you really trust me.

And something to note here, this command is directly tied to God's name. That means that obedience to God's command is directly tied to knowing and experiencing the reality behind the name. Now, I've said this before and it bears repeating here. This is the essence of faith, acting upon what we believe about God because we trust his reliability. And it is a faith that is empowered by the grace and presence of God and is strictly initiated by God.

And then finally, God makes a promise. That I may make my covenant between me and you and may multiply you greatly. This is the same kind of language God uses at Sinai with Israel. He tells them he will be their God and will make them his people and will dwell with them. But that dwelling with them is conditioned on their obedience to him. He tells Abraham essentially the same thing. Walk before me in complete integrity and I will make my covenant with you. Understand though, this isn't God saying, "You have to live right and then I will make my covenant with you." This is God saying, "If we're going to be in covenant, these are the terms. You live blameless before me, and I will be the almighty, all-sufficient God of the mountain who nourishes and supplies everything you need."

Now, if that is truly who God is and I firmly believe that to be the case. What happens then when it feels like the world has turned against us? What do we do and where do we turn when the powers, principalities, and rulers of this present age of darkness are arrayed against us?

That is the imagery and reality behind this second name that we're looking at today. God has revealed himself as El Gibbor, the mighty God, God who fights for us.

Now, if the gibbor part of that name sounds familiar, it should. Back in the first episode of this series, a name for ourselves, we talked about Nimrod being described in Genesis 10 as a mighty man, a gibbor. That designation is actually part of what this series has been heading towards. The contrast between the human description of someone as gibbor and God himself as gibbor.

In the ancient world, when people wanted to describe great champions of war or brutal tyrants, gibbor was the word they reached for. We see this directly in Nimrod, who is called a mighty hunter. The word hunter here doesn't necessarily mean hunter of game animals. Instead, it seems to imply a tyrant who oppresses his own people.

Samuel: 17:51

Gibbor is even used by David to describe Saul and Jonathan after their deaths and then it's applied to David's personal elite war band.

Now, all of those things together might make us think of gibbor as a fairly neutral term applied equally to good and bad alike. And in some cases, that is true. However, at its heart, when applied to human beings, it carries the idea of the grandeur and greatness of military figures and also the hubris of those who style themselves as great.

But what happens when we apply gibbor to God? Now, gibbor isn't used in Exodus 15:3, but the idea behind it is there. The Lord is a man of war. Then Psalm 24:8 does use gibbor for God, picturing him as a king returning from battle. Who is this king of glory? The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle.

The precedent is set. God is a God who fights for his people. He doesn't sit and wait for whatever happens to come along to destroy his people. Rather, he actively works preveniently on their behalf. This is why he's described in Psalm 68:5 as a defender of widows and father to orphans.

In Isaiah 59, God is passing judgment against his people for having turned away from him and pursued unrighteousness. As a result of this turn, injustice is rampant among his people. Verses 1 and two say, "The Lord's hand isn't shortened, nor is his ear dull, and then points to the sin of the people as the cause for being separated from him." Then in verses 14-17, Isaiah tells us this about God.

Justice is turned back and righteousness stands far away. For truth has stumbled in the public squares and uprightness cannot enter. Truth is lacking and he who departs from evil makes himself a prey. The Lord saw it and it displeased him that there was no justice. He saw that there was no man and wondered that there was no one to intercede. Then his own arm brought him salvation and his righteousness upheld him. He put on righteousness as a breastplate and a helmet of salvation on his head. He put on garments of vengeance for clothing and wrapped himself in zeal as a cloak.

Did you catch it? Not only is God displeased at the lack of justice. It bothers him that there is no one to stand against it. And why do I say it bothered God? Because look what he does. He puts on righteousness and salvation like armor for war and vengeance and zeal as clothing. God, the one described by Moses in Exodus 15 as a man of war and by David in Psalm 24 as mighty in battle, is gearing up for war. The text is clear. If there is no one willing or capable of bringing justice to his people, God will bring it himself.

Then Isaiah 63 shows us a warrior striding forth from the battlefield, splendid in his apparel, marching in the greatness of his strength. Who is this? Is asked and the answer is it is I speaking in righteousness mighty to save. When asked why his garments are stained as with wine, this is the response.

I have trodden the winepress alone, and from the peoples, no one was with me. I trod them in my anger and trampled them in my wrath. Their lifeblood spattered on my garments and stained all my apparel. For the day of vengeance was in my heart, and my year of redemption had come. I looked, but there was no one to help. I was appalled, but there was no one to uphold. So my own arm brought me salvation and my wrath upheld me. I trampled down the peoples in my anger. I made them drunk in my wrath and I poured out their lifeblood on the earth.

And again, the text is clear. There was no one able to intervene on behalf of God's people, so God chose to do it himself. The imagery and language here are vivid and may even cause us to recoil at the harshness. But notice what God is doing. He has come to deliver his people not just from oppression by their physical enemies, but from the greatest oppressor of all, sin. In other words, God has come, as Paul would later say, to deliver us from the law of sin and death. He is the mighty God who fights for his people.

But there's something different about this gibbor. First, unlike the self and popularly described gibborim of mankind, this one who is mighty to save isn't puffed up with arrogant pride. Second, he comes in a way no one would think or imagine. And this is why Paul can write that the foolishness of God is greater than the wisdom of men. And that God chose to put to shame the wise through what they would see as foolish means.

You see, while those later chapters of Isaiah present God as coming as a mighty, bloodstained warrior, there is another very different image given to us earlier in Isaiah. And while it may seem that these two images of God are contradictory, it is the foolishness of God on display.

The context of Isaiah 9 and the chapters immediately preceding it center on where Israel will place its trust in the face of the oncoming Assyrian army. Three times over the course of three chapters, God has used the birth of a child to speak to Israel's need. And though there are very real time and place fulfillments of those prophecies, when taken together, they also very clearly point towards the Messiah. In fact, this third prophetic birth that comes in Isaiah 9 can only be the Messiah.

As Assyria began its conquest, it would have started in the northern reaches of Israel in Zebulun and Naphtali, moving south through the main trade route, the way of the sea, into Galilee, and then further south toward Jerusalem. And this is where Isaiah picks up as God begins his redemption.

But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish. In the former time, he brought into contempt the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali. But in the latter time he has made glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations.

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. Those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone. You have multiplied the nation. You have increased its joy. They rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as they are glad when they divide the spoil. For the yoke of his burden and the staff for his shoulder, the rod of his oppressor you have broken as on the day of Midian. For every boot of the tramping warrior in battle tumult, and every garment rolled in blood will be burned as fuel for the fire.

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end on the throne of David and over his kingdom to establish it and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and forever more. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.

God promises redemption here for both the physical nation of Israel but more crucially for all who will be called by his name. And he does it through the birth of a child who while still a baby will be called mighty God, El Gibbor.

The God who strides forth from battle having defeated every enemy is just a small baby. This is the ultimate expression of God's imminence. According to Dr. John Oswalt in his commentary on Isaiah, God's answer to the oppression and hostility of this proud and cruel world is not to come as a jack booted warrior to smash the opposition. Somehow, although we're not told how here, he will shatter the yoke that burdens his people without becoming a greater oppressor than the enemy.

And that is often the case. And the danger, a deliverer strong enough to defeat the oppressor can easily make for a far worse tyrant. But the promise of God through Isaiah is that when Messiah comes to defeat the enemy of God's people, he will not become that self-aggrandized mighty tyrant shedding the blood of his enemies. Instead, he will bring sure deliverance through the shedding of his own blood because he is the mighty God powerful to save.

He is El Shaddai, God Almighty. And he is El Gibbor, the mighty God. And through his zeal, he will redeem his people and bring life and light to those living in darkness.

Thank you for joining me today. I hope you found this episode useful or helpful in some way to you. If you did, do me a favor and share it with someone you think needs to hear it.

Now it's time to slip the moorings and head for the deep waters.

The Deep Waters Way: Where Scripture, Theology, and Transformation Meet.