Reading Old Testament Violence in the Light of Jesus Christ

Old Testament violence troubles me most when the people facing death include children. We can speak about conquest, covenant, and divine judgment in fairly abstract terms. But the moment we imagine an infant in a mother’s arms, the question becomes painfully concrete. What has this child done? How does the command to kill that child reveal the goodness of God?

I don’t think Christians should be embarrassed to ask. Our uneasiness may arise precisely because Scripture has taught us to recognize God’s compassion, defend the vulnerable, and seek justice. We bring that question to the Bible because we take its witness seriously.

My conviction is that Christians must read these accounts in the light of Jesus Christ. That approach requires careful attention to what the passages say, an honest understanding of biblical authority, and humility about the conclusions we draw.

What do these passages actually say?

We should begin by listening carefully to the narratives themselves. Several different settings are involved. Israel’s conquest of Canaan, the Midianite campaign, and Saul’s attack on Amalek are distinct episodes. Their circumstances and stated purposes deserve individual examination.

In Numbers 31, God instructs Moses to avenge Israel against Midian. Later, Moses orders the killing of the surviving boys and women who have had sexual relations, while the other girls are spared (verses 15–18). The specific order concerning the captives comes from Moses. Yet the narrative doesn’t condemn him, and its account of God’s instructions concerning the division of the captives and spoils prevents us from neatly separating God from the campaign (verses 25–31).

The difficulty becomes even sharper in 1 Samuel 15:1–3. Samuel explicitly attributes to the Lord an order to destroy Amalek, including children and infants. Within the narrative, this is presented as God’s command. Saul is subsequently rebuked for his disobedience.

Any interpretation that questions whether God actually issued that order must acknowledge what it is doing. It is making a theological judgment about the narrative’s portrayal of God. It cannot claim that the passage itself denies divine responsibility.

That honesty matters. A serious study of Old Testament violence must allow the texts to present their difficulty in full.

What history and divine judgment can explain

The biblical writers understand these wars within Israel’s covenant history. Deuteronomy 9:4–6 connects the dispossession of the nations with their wickedness and God’s promise to Israel’s ancestors. It also sharply rejects the idea that Israel receives the land because of its own righteousness.

A traditional Christian explanation takes these claims seriously: God, as the giver of life and judge of humanity, commissioned exceptional acts of judgment. Defenders distinguish God’s authority over life from the authority human beings ordinarily possess. This position deserves a fair hearing.

Still, the question concerning children remains. An appeal to a nation’s wickedness does not establish an infant’s personal responsibility. Nor does calling an event divine judgment, by itself, explain why people were commanded to kill that child.

Literary context also matters. Some interpreters understand sweeping conquest language as conventional ancient victory rhetoric. Joshua 11:23 summarizes a comprehensive conquest, while Joshua 13:1 acknowledges substantial territory still awaiting possession. Such features encourage caution about reading every comprehensive statement as a literal population count.

But rhetoric must be examined passage by passage. Even if some descriptions are exaggerated, that does not demonstrate that no civilians died. It also leaves the explicit inclusion of infants in 1 Samuel 15 requiring explanation. Historical context can illuminate the problem without removing its moral seriousness.

The Old Testament also teaches us to ask

The questions we are raising already have roots within Israel’s Scriptures. Abraham appeals to God’s justice when confronted with Sodom’s impending destruction: “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?” (Genesis 18:25, NRSVUE).

Abraham’s concern is precisely whether the righteous will be swept away with the wicked. His appeal belongs within a relationship of faith. He brings his moral perplexity before God.

Deuteronomy 24:16 prohibits executing children for their parents’ sins. Its immediate setting is human judicial responsibility, so we should be careful about treating it as a direct regulation of warfare. Nevertheless, it makes personal accountability an important consideration. Ezekiel 18:20 develops a related concern about responsibility across generations.

Then there is Jonah. The book ends with God expressing concern for Nineveh and its inhabitants, even while the prophet resents that mercy (Jonah 4:10–11). Compassion toward an enemy population already belongs to the Old Testament’s understanding of God.

Reading Old Testament violence through Christ therefore involves attending more deeply to the mercy and justice already present in these Scriptures.

Reading Old Testament violence in the light of Christ

Hebrews 1:1–3 describes God’s earlier speech through the prophets and his climactic self-disclosure through the Son. John 1:18 likewise presents the Son as the one who makes God known. For Christians, Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection therefore have decisive significance for understanding God’s character.

Consider Jesus’ teaching about enemies. He commands his followers to love them and pray for their persecutors, grounding this conduct in the generosity of their heavenly Father (Matthew 5:43–48). Enemy love reveals something about the God whose children they are called to become.

When James and John propose calling down fire upon an unwelcoming Samaritan village, Jesus rebukes them, and they move on (Luke 9:51–56). Whatever further questions we bring to this episode, his disciples’ proposed destruction receives no authorization.

At the cross, the Messiah submits to the violence of those who reject him. Through his death and resurrection, God confronts sin and death and opens the way to reconciliation. Paul describes this as God’s own reconciling work in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:19).

The Father and Son share this purpose. Jesus reveals the God of Israel, and the Holy Spirit forms a people who participate in his reconciling life. I explored this connection further in Christ as God’s Ongoing Theophany Through the Holy Spirit.

Christians therefore have strong grounds for asking how earlier portrayals of divine power relate to this revelation. However, Jesus’ commands to his disciples do not, on their own, prove that God could never have commissioned a particular ancient judgment. That further conclusion requires theological argument.

What does inspiration require us to believe?

Second Timothy 3:14–17 affirms Scripture’s divine inspiration and its power to equip God’s people for faithful living. It also connects the sacred writings with salvation through faith in Christ. Scripture’s formative purpose and its relationship to Jesus belong together.

Inspiration works through human authors, languages, and historical circumstances. This humanity does not prove that a writer misunderstood God. Affirming inspiration requires us to consider how God communicates through these witnesses.

Jesus’ teaching about divorce provides a useful example. In Matthew 19:3–9, he explains that Moses permitted divorce because of human hardness of heart, while directing his hearers back to God’s intention in creation. An authoritative Mosaic provision accommodated a condition that fell short of the Creator’s intention.

That passage establishes the reality of accommodation. It does not establish that Moses falsely attributed a command to God. Nor does Jesus explicitly apply this explanation to the conquest accounts. Accommodation and mistaken attribution are different proposals, and each needs its own argument.

Some Christians believe inspiration guarantees the truthfulness of every divine command that a biblical narrator affirms. For them, concluding that such a command was mistakenly attributed to God would conflict with their understanding of Scripture’s truthfulness.

Others understand inspiration as God’s work through historically situated testimony whose fullest meaning emerges in Christ. They allow that some portrayals may reflect limitations in the writers’ understanding of God. A Christ-centered reading can, on this account, identify those limitations while continuing to receive Scripture as authoritative.

This second approach is defensible, in my judgment. It carries real responsibilities. Claiming that an explicit divine command was misattributed goes beyond explaining vocabulary or literary form. It depends on a contested account of Scripture’s truthful witness to God.

How do we keep this from becoming selective reading?

If a biblical writer may have misunderstood God’s will, what prevents us from accepting whatever suits our preferences?

First, we must establish the passage’s meaning in its own setting. Who is speaking? What does the narrator affirm? What literary conventions are operating? What historical claims can the evidence support? We should state the difficulty accurately before offering a theological response.

Second, we must read across the canon. Abraham’s appeal, the prophets’ teaching about responsibility, Jonah’s challenge to resentment, and the biblical hope of peace all deserve attention. So do passages about judgment. A responsible interpretation considers the evidence that challenges its preferred conclusion.

Third, the Jesus who guides our reading must be the Jesus of the whole apostolic witness. He welcomes sinners, commands enemy love, and gives his life. He also warns of judgment and accountability (Matthew 25:31–46). His mercy belongs together with his determination to put evil right. Our interpretation must keep both in view.

Fourth, we should distinguish what the text says, what we can establish historically, and what we judge theologically. These are related questions, but their answers have different kinds of support. We should also listen to Christians who disagree and to those whose experience of violence helps us recognize the human cost of our interpretations.

Finally, we should examine the kind of community our reading forms. Does it cultivate truthfulness, repentance, compassion, and protection of the vulnerable? Moral fruit cannot settle every historical question. Yet an interpretation that encourages cruelty has failed to reckon adequately with the church’s calling in Christ.

These disciplines support careful judgment while leaving room for unresolved questions.

The church’s calling in the present age

One conclusion is clearer than our reconstruction of ancient warfare: the church has received no commission to destroy populations it considers God’s enemies.

Paul tells believers to relinquish personal vengeance, care for their enemies, and overcome evil through good. He grounds this instruction partly in God’s own responsibility to judge (Romans 12:17–21). Divine judgment and the church’s vocation must therefore be distinguished.

This has practical consequences. Religious leaders’ claims to divine authority require examination. Invoking God’s name cannot excuse cruelty or place a leader’s commands beyond question. A congregation should be a place where vulnerable people receive protection and difficult questions can be asked honestly.

The resurrection also gives this calling its horizon. God’s promised renewal has begun in Christ, while its completion remains future. As I discussed in Living in the Overlap of Two Ages: Hope in the Risen Christ, believers live within that tension. Through the Spirit, we bear witness to the coming new creation by practicing reconciliation, seeking justice, and refusing to treat other people as expendable.

Whatever explanation we reach for Old Testament violence, it must be consistent with this calling.

Where I stand

Did God command the killing of innocents? Certain biblical narratives explicitly attribute such commands to him. Whether those portrayals establish what God actually commanded is the theological question on which Christians disagree.

My own judgment is that a Christian may responsibly remain open to the possibility that these accounts preserve an ancient understanding of divine judgment that requires reassessment in the light of Christ. This is a theological conclusion, offered with humility. It is neither an established historical finding nor something the narratives themselves explicitly concede.

I continue to receive the Old Testament as indispensable Scripture. Its witness teaches us to recognize the God whom Jesus reveals, and its difficult passages require patient attention. I also remain persuaded that faithfulness does not demand a complete moral justification for every wartime killing attributed to God.

We can acknowledge the limits of our understanding while trusting God’s righteousness. The Father revealed through the crucified and risen Son has always been holy, just, and merciful. Our understanding of him can still deepen.

For now, I bring the question back to Jesus. I ask him to teach me how to read, how to judge faithfully, and how to love the people before me.

The question may remain painful. Our responsibility to protect the vulnerable and love our enemies is clear.

Further study

The following works present various approaches; their inclusion does not imply that I agree with every conclusion.

• Richard B. Hays, Reading Backwards: Figural Christology and the Fourfold Gospel Witness. Explores the Gospel writers’ rereading of Israel’s Scriptures in relation to Christ. Its figural approach does not, by itself, establish that conquest commands were falsely attributed to God.
• Eric A. Seibert, Disturbing Divine Behavior: Troubling Old Testament Images of God. For a freely available statement of his approach and engagement with objections, see his “Hermeneutics, Historicity, and Jesus”.
• John H. Walton and J. Harvey Walton, The Lost World of the Israelite Conquest: Covenant, Retribution, and the Fate of the Canaanites. Offers a different approach through ancient context, conquest language, and the meaning of the destruction ban.

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