God’s Righteous Character in the Old Testament

The word righteousness (ṣeḏakah) in the Old Testament (OT) is a relational concept.¹ Its usage in 2 Chron 6:23, in the sense of being in the right illustrated this point: “Vindicating those who are in the right by rewarding them in accordance with their righteousness (ṣeḏakah).”² It means that one is deemed righteous when one is in the right vis-à-vis the community and individuals (cf. Gen 30:33; 1 Sam 26:23; 1 Kings 3:6; Prov 10:2). Thus, the broader definition of righteousness is “loyalty to the community, in conduct, honesty.”³ This basic meaning is applied at the individual level to attributes such as honesty and trustworthiness that would enable one to be in the right in various situations involving relationships. Of these attributes, justice has the most prominent place.⁴

The OT concept of righteousness, however, differs from its Greek counterpart in that it has strong overtones of mercy and beneficence. B. Johnson makes two important observations regarding the Hebrew concept of righteousness. First, the Greek concept of dikaiosūne basically means justice, and so, the Hebrew notions of mercy and beneficence are “alien” to its conception.⁵ As a result, in some OT passages the LXX translators translated “righteousness” (ṣeḏakah) with “compassion” (elēmosūnē),⁶ not dikaiosūne. Second, “in the Qumran texts, as in the OT, ṣdq refers to beneficent but never chastising righteousness.”⁷ These two observations show how important and even unique the notion of mercy was in the Hebrew understanding of righteousness. This essay proposes that Israel’s unique understanding of righteousness comes from its understanding of God’s character that consists of both mercy and justice.

God’s righteousness (Psalm 35:24; 71:16, 19; 72:1; Isa 5:16; Zech 8:8) has a dual characteristic. It consists of mercy and justice (Ps. 72:1; Isa. 5:16; 58:2; 61:10-62:2). He is a merciful Creator who provides for the needs of all his creatures (Ps. 104:24-25), and he is an impartial Judge who holds humankind accountable for their deeds (Psalms 7:11; 50:6; 82:8). God is righteous (Psalm 7:9-11; 116:5; Isa 45:21) in his abundant mercy and in his impartial justice. This dual nature of God’s righteous character – mercy and justice – appears in unusual clarity in Exod. 34:6-7, offering an exceptionally vivid description of his character in all of its glory (Exod. 33:18-23).

6The LORD passed before him, and proclaimed, "The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, 7keeping steadfast love for the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, yet by no means clearing the guilty, but visiting the iniquity of the parents upon the children and the children's children, to the third and the fourth generation." (Exod. 34:6-7 NRSV)

This passage curiously lacks visual descriptions.⁸ God is being described in terms of the constituent parts of his character. The first part of this passage (vv. 6-7a) lists seven attributes of God’s compassionate character: merciful, gracious, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, faithful, keeping steadfast love, and forgiving. The second half of the passage (v. 7b) lists two attributes of his character of justice that seem to contradict his merciful character: “yet by no means clearing the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the parents on their children.” The point here, however, is not how many total divine attributes appear in this passage. Propp rightly writes: “Although Jewish tradition finds in 34:6–7 thirteen divine attributes (e.g., Roš Haš. 17b), there is no clear list structure such as we find in the Decalog (sic.).”⁹ What is important is their proportions. In God’s character, the attributes of mercy far outweigh the attributes of justice. This lopsided dual nature of God’s character is a source of no small tension in the OT. The tension tilts in favor of God’s merciful character in many passages, and it tilts in favor of his impartial and severe justice in others.

Scholarship is divided on the origins of Exod 34:6-7. Some scholars argue that the formula originated in the “Wise Men” circles. Others argue for cultic settings.¹⁰ But Durham seems to sum up the matter when he concludes that these suggestions lack firm evidence.¹¹ He argues for the antiquity of the formula.¹² He identifies eight references in the OT that contain a similar wording as in Exod 34:6-7 (Psalms 86:15; 103:8; 145:8; Num 14:18; Joel 2:13; Nah 1:3; Neh 9:17).¹³ Propp offers a longer list (20:5–6; Num 14:18; Deut 5:9–10; Jer 30:11; 32:18–19; 46:28; 49:12; Joel 2:13, Jonah 4:2; Micah 7:18–20; Nah 1:2; Psalm 103; 145:8; Lam 3:32; Dan 9:4; Neh 9:17) and considers them “citations of [Exod] 34:6-7.”¹⁴ These passages do not reproduce the divine attributes in Exod 34:6-7 verbatim.¹⁵ For example, Psalm 86:15 has no reference to divine justice: “But you, O Lord, are a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (similarly in Psalms 103:8 and 145:8). Nahum 1:3 list just one attribute for mercy and one for justice: “The LORD is slow to anger but great in power, and the LORD will by no means clear the guilty.” Yet, they all refer to the theophany in Exodus 34, demonstrating the extreme important role that the Exodus passage played in the development of the OT understanding of God’s character.

The word “righteousness” does not appear in the Exodus passage. In fact, it does not occur in Exodus at all, nor does it occur in Leviticus or Numbers. The lone reference to God as “righteous” occurs in Pharaoh’s confession: “The LORD is righteous, and I and my people are wicked” (Exod. 9:27; cf. 23:7-8). The preferred descriptor for God in these books is “holy.” It is not easy to pin down the precise relationship between righteousness and holiness, but there is a close relationship between them. Isaiah perhaps states the matter best when he writes: “The Holy God shows himself holy by righteousness” (Isa 5:16).

In summary, then, the tension between mercy and justice described in Exod 34:6-7 should be assumed for all depictions of God’s righteous character in the OT, even if only one of the two attributes – mercy or justice – appears in the passage. The result is a jarring vision of God.

Jonah offers a good case study because his message of judgment makes no mention God’s mercy. He warns the inhabitants of Nineveh, “Forty days more, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!” (3:4). The message is clear-cut. It is about the impending judgment. The Ninevites sinned before God (1:2) and God who is the Judge of the world is now about to visit their iniquity upon them. Also the future tense of the message does not appear to leave much wiggle room for a different interpretation: “Ninevah shall be overthrown” (v. 4). Going by the letter, the message is unequivocal that God will destroy Ninevah at the end of forty days.

The point of Jonah’s story is that a message of judgment implies mercy even when mercy is not explicitly mentioned. To begin with, the “forty days” implies mercy. One wonders why God would wait forty days before destroying a city. Mercy is also implied in that Jonah, a reluctant messenger, was sent to inform the inhabitants of Nineveh concerning God’s intention to destroy the city. God should have simply destroyed the city and the inhabitants without warning if it was indeed his intention to destroy it. These actions of God reveal his merciful intentions even if Jonah’s words only speak of God’s terrible judgment.

The Ninevites understood the message to be a call of mercy. According to Jonah 3:5, the people of Nineveh responded to Jonah’s preaching with an outpouring of repentance and remorse: “And the people of Nineveh believed God; they proclaimed a fast, and everyone, great and small, put on sackcloth.” They evidently saw an opportunity for repentance in the fact that God had sent a messenger to inform them that they had “forty days.” They were clearly not going to just sit around and see what would happen when the time was up. They seized the opportunity of mercy proffered to them and repented.

Jonah also understood his message as a message of mercy. So he complains to God when Ninevah was not destroyed as warned:

He prayed to the LORD and said, "O LORD! Is not this what I said while I was still in my own country? That is why I fled to Tarshish at the beginning; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing (Jon 4:2).

This passage clearly alludes to Exod 34:6-7: God is “gracious” and “merciful,” “slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing.” It also makes clear that Jonah understood God’s merciful intentions from the moment he first heard the message. “Is not this what I said while I was still in my county?” he protests. But the first chapter, where the story begins, does not actually mention God’s mercy. The only message that confronts the readers there is one of divine judgment: “Now the word of the LORD came to Jonah son of Amittai, saying, ‘Go at once to Nineveh, that great city, and cry out against it; for their wickedness has come up before me.’” (Jon. 1:1-2). When Jonah heard this message, he got up, went down to Joppa, and fled to Tarshish on a ship (v. 3). He understood the true intent of this message even though it makes no direct mention of God’s mercy.

The point of Jonah’s story is unmistakable. God’s message of judgment is simultaneously an expression of his tender mercy and longsuffering even if it only contains words of warning, as in 1:2: “cry out against it.” Jonah complains, “This is why I fled to Tarshish as the beginning.” He fled because he knew that God was “a gracious God and merciful” (4:2). He fled because he knew that in God’s character mercy far outweighed justice, and that a message of judgment and dire warnings from him is a plea of his tender mercy, and vice versa. If anyone fails to see this double take in a divine message, it is because he or she simply does not know God.

Psalm 83 is another example where God’s mercy and compassion have the upper hand over his justice. This is a Psalm of Asaph, a prayer against the enemies of God and his people, composed around the time of the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple in 586 B.C. (cf. 79:1ff). In v. 4, God’s enemies, perhaps Nebuchadnezzar and his Babylonian army, utter evil words of hatred, seeking to destroy the Jews and to expunge their memories from history forever. “Come, let us wipe them out as a nation; let the name of Israel be remembered no more” (Ps. 83:4). The Psalmist complains to God in v. 5. “They conspire with one accord; against you they make a covenant.” The phrase “make a covenant” in this verse represents the only instance in the entire OT where a covenant is made “against an entity.” The author clearly sees a looming threat in the enemies against the people of God. Nancy Declaissé-Walford, et al., writes: “This covenant-making reinforces how serious the threat to God and God’s people has become.”¹⁶ Thus, justifiably, the extremely bitter language of Psalm 84 urgently calls for a swift visitation of God’s justice upon the enemies.

O my God, make them like whirling dust, like chaff before the wind. As fire consumes the forest, as the flame sets the mountains ablaze, so pursue them with your tempest and terrify them with your hurricane. Fill their faces with shame (Psalm 83:13-16b).

These harsh words in Psalm 83 are consistent with the portrayals of God’s justice in the Decalogue: “visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me” (Exod. 20:5 KJV). In the call for a retribution upon the enemies and for their humiliation – “fill their faces with shame” – and for an eye-for-an-eye type of justice – “make them like whirling dust, like chaff before the wind” – the Psalmist asks God to do to the enemies what they have done to his people and the temple. What, however, catches our eyes in this prayer is not the justice but the mercy that comes at the end: “So that they may seek your name, O LORD” (Ps. 83:16 NRS). After all the deprecatory petitions for punishment and humiliation upon the enemies, the Psalmist remarkably prays for their salvation. “Let them be put to shame and dismayed forever; let them perish in disgrace. Let them know that you alone, whose name is the LORD, are the Most High over all the earth” (Ps. 83:17-18). In the midst of the fury of his justice and wrath, God should help them to know him. The intent is that they might perchance seek him and find salvation in the end. Thus, the Psalmist who prays for the destruction of the enemies – “let them perish in disgrace” – also prays for their enlightenment:¹⁷ “Let them know that you alone are God.” Once again, in Psalm 83, mercy clearly has the upper hand in God’s judgment.

The story of Nebuchadezzar’s repentance in Daniel 4 provides another fascinating case study of how mercy prevails in God’s judgment and how even his severe punishments help to turn the hearts of his enemies toward him. In v. 32, the watchers visit judgement upon Nebuchadnezzar for his blasphemous hubris when he fails to heed the warnings given to him in a dream (vv. 10-18) and by Daniel (vv. 19-27). The watchers declare: “You shall be driven away from human society, and your dwelling shall be with the animals of the field. You shall be made to eat grass like oxen, and seven times shall pass over you” (v. 32a). This fearful judgment remarkably ends on a note of mercy, like Psalm 83:18: “Until you have learned that the Most High has sovereignty over the kingdom of mortals and gives it to whom he will.” (32b)

In v. 33, we read that the long awaited judgment of God has fallen upon the idolatrous king, bringing him to his knees as warned. “Immediately the sentence was fulfilled against Nebuchadnezzar. He was driven away from human society, ate grass like oxen, and his body was bathed with the dew of heaven, until his hair grew as long as eagles' feathers and his nails became like birds' claws” (v. 33).

In v. 34 we read of Nebuchadnezzar’s repentance¹⁸ and how he came to praise the name of the Lord God of Israel whose temple he once looted and burned (2 Kings 24:1; 24:9:13-17). “When that period was over, I, Nebuchadnezzar, lifted my eyes to heaven, and my reason returned to me. I blessed the Most High, and praised and honored the one who lives forever. For his sovereignty is an everlasting sovereignty, and his kingdom endures from generation to generation.” Clearly, if Nebuchadnezzar praised, honored and blessed God, he qualifies as one of God’s redeemed (cf. Luke 1:68; 1 Pet 1:7; Sir 5:12; Tob 12:6). God judged the king and humbled him, repaying him for all his wicked deeds, but justice was not the final word. Even as his wrath was poured out against him, God’s abundant mercy prevailed and won over the heart of this wicked king. This is a jarring vision of how the dual nature of God’s character works together to bring about the redemption of sinners.

In v. 35, Nebuchadnezzar confesses God’s greatness. “All the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing, and he does what he wills with the host of heaven and the inhabitants of the earth. There is no one who can stay his hand or say to him, ‘What are you doing?’” Going by the conventional wisdom in apocalyptic literature, the judgment should have been the final word for a king who failed to heed repeated warnings and repeatedly sinned against God and his people with high hands. A person such as he should not have been given a chance for repentance and reform, especially after the judgment was delivered as promised.

But in verse 36, we read how God restored Nebuchadnezzar to his former power in a display of mercy that defies explanation. Nebuchadnezzar recounts. “At that time my reason returned to me; and my majesty and splendor were restored to me for the glory of my kingdom. My counselors and my lords sought me out, I was re-established over my kingdom, and still more greatness was added to me. If the restoration was not enough, we are told, God added “still more greatness” to Nebuchadnezzar. God’s mercy and compassion clearly won out over his exacting and severe justice, so that what was supposed to be the end for Nebuchadnezzar turned out to be a surprising new lease on life for him. In v. 37, Nebuchadnezzar becomes a worshipper of God: “Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and extol and honor the King of heaven, for all his works are truth, and his ways are justice; and he is able to bring low those who walk in pride.”

In summary, the following three points underscore the unusual nature of the story of Nebuchadnezzar’s repentance in Daniel 4. First, the genre of apocalyptic literature generally rejects the idea of impenitent sinners receiving mercy and reprieve in Gods’ final judgment. For example, Rev 22:11 makes clear that God’s final judgment is unchangeable: “Let the evildoer still do evil, and the filthy still be filthy, and the righteous still do right, and the holy still be holy.” God’s final judgment precludes the possibility of repentance. Just imagine how strange and offensive it would sound to our ears if at the final judgment God were to grant a fresh chance for repentance to condemned sinners out of his great mercy. It comes as a complete surprise to read the story of Nebuchadnezzar’s repentance in Daniel, an apocalyptic writing. It is almost incomprehensive how God would show mercy to the reprehensible tyrant Nebuchadnezzar in what appears to be his final and long overdue judgment, especially after he was duly warned in a dream (Dan 4:10-17) and by Daniel (vv. 24-27). The second unusual aspect of this story is the extreme show of mercy. For Nebuchadnezzar was not only allowed to survive the judgment but even to receive back the opulence of the court afterwards. The king was a terrifying and idolatrous enemy of God and his people who should have been wiped out without warning or mercy. He destroyed the temple, devastated the land of Judah, and mercilessly killed God’s people. It disturbs our sense of justice to read that God not only granted mercy to this evil king but that he restored him to his former glory and power after he received his deserved and long overdue punishment. Third, the story of Nebuchadnezzar’s repentance takes place outside of Israel’s covenant, like the story of Jonah. The OT is replete with stories about how God spared his covenant people and showed them mercy when they repented from their sins and cried out to him for mercy. The king Manasseh would be an example of such repentance and restoration taking place within Israel’s covenantal setting (2 Chron 33:11-13). Moreover, there are multitudes of Psalms that both petition for and promise God’s mercy for the penitent people of God. But what is highly unusual is that repentance and restoration were granted to an evil king who was clearly not a member of Israel’s covenant community. The point is unmistakable. Even in the idolatrous pagan court of Babylon, a place filled with greed, violence, and immorality, the dual nature of God’s righteousness character consisting of mercy and justice, in which mercy far outweighs justices, was at work.

God’s Righteous Character in Paul

Paul represents somewhat of a departure from the OT pattern of mercy and justice we have seen so far. He clearly affirms the dual nature of God’s righteous character consisting of mercy and justice, but he distinguishes God’s punitive justice from his attribute of justice. Paul’s separating of God’s punitive justice from his dual character causes the emphasis in his theology to shift almost one-sidedly toward the mercy of God. One perhaps feels this shift most palpably in Rom 1:17-18:

17For in it the righteousness of God is revealed through faith for faith; as it is written, “He who through faith is righteous shall live.” 18For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and wickedness of men who by their wickedness suppress the truth.

This passage presents a parallel¹⁹ between “the righteousness of God” in v. 17 and “the wrath of God” in v. 18. First, both verses employ the present tense verb “to reveal” (apokalūptetai), indicating that the revelations of God’s righteousness and wrath are “concurrent”²⁰ events. Second, the wrath in v. 18, which refers to God’s judgment,²¹ forms a direct contrast²² to the righteousness mentioned in v. 17. This parallel structure presents a carefully crafted juxtaposition between God’s righteousness and wrath. The result is that the structure causes “the righteousness of God” in v. 17 to denote qualities that are opposite of the wrath. In other words, “the righteousness” describes his mercy. But we saw above that God’s righteous character consists of both mercy and justice, not just mercy. The present arrangement of righteousness and wrath in Rom 1:17, however, causes the balance to shift, so that it appears as though God’s righteousness consists only of mercy. The phrase “from faith to faith” in v. 17 further heightens this sense of imbalance because God’s mercy is what solicits and evokes our faith, rather than his wrathful justice aimed at us.

James D. G. Dunn makes four important observations regarding Rom 1:17 in his commentary on Romans. First, the righteousness of God in this verse is “virtually synonymous” with the salvation of God.²³ Second, there is no need to choose between the subjective and objective understanding of God’s righteousness (“attitude” vs. “activity” of God) because both are implied by God’s redemptive action.²⁴ Third, the human righteousness obtained in relation to God’s righteousness is “faith.”²⁵ And fourth, it is “less likely” that the righteousness of God in this verse includes the notion of divine judgment, namely his punitive justice.²⁶ In other words, Paul’s portrayal of God’s righteousness in Rom 1:17 appears one-sidedly merciful.

The reason for this one-sided emphasis upon mercy is that God’s justice described in 1:18 is equally one-sided in its focus, namely on punitive wrath. Immediately following 1:18, Paul offers a detailed discussion of God’s wrath and its workings in 1:19-32. In his wrath, God gives up sinful humans to their evil desires. Paul repeats this notion of “giving up” three times in the chapter. We are told in v. 24 that God gave up sinful humans to their unclean desires. In v. 26, we are told again that he gave them up to their dishonorable passions, and then finally in v. 28, that he gave them up to their base minds (v. 28f.). In other words, God’s justice is his punitive wrath that he carries out²⁷ in stages by abandoning sinful humans to their own defilement and destruction. After v. 18, Paul uses the term wrath nine more times in Romans (2:5 [2×]; 2:8; 3:5; 4:15; 5:9; 9:22 [2×]; 13:4-5) in the same punitive sense to denote God’s righteousness judgment.

The discussion of God’s punitive justice continues in Romans 2. As already discussed, God in his merciful self-restraint metes out his wrath, that is to say, his punitive justice, in a gradual, stage-by-stage manner in chapter 1. Paul does not explain the reasons for such delayed actions of judgment, but in chapter 2, he explains that God’s wrath has a pedagogical intent. He restrains himself from venting his full wrath upon humanity to allow time for sinners to repent and receive forgiveness and healing. Paul explains this concept in 2:4-5:

4“Or do you presume upon the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience? Do you not know that God's kindness is meant to lead you to repentance? 5But by your hard and impenitent heart you are storing up wrath for yourself on the day of wrath when God's righteous judgment will be revealed.

The phrase “storing up wrath” in v. 5 reverts back to the theme of divine wrath in chapter 1. The aim is to clarify why God’s wrath has not been fully exhausted in the present time. Also, by referring to the final judgment as a revelation (apokalūpsis), Paul heightens the tension between the on-going work of divine wrath in the present time (apokalūptetai) and its full and final manifestation at the end of time. In this context, it is significant that, in v. 4, Paul describes the present time as one of “kindness and forbearance” (anochē; cf. 3:26). God has decided to delay the full release of his punitive justice until the end because of his merciful self-restraint in behalf of sinful humanity.

From our discussion thus far, we can infer the following two points concerning God’s wrath in Romans 1:18-3:20. First, God’s wrath in 1:18 denotes his punitive justice, which does not find its full expression now. The present is a time of divine restraint in which impenitent sinners store up God’s wrath for the final Day of Judgment. The true purpose, however, of this restraint and delay in the present time is to allow time for sinners to repent. Second, the righteousness of God in 1:17 forms a contrast to his wrath in 1:18, namely his punitive justice and denotes his mercy and compassion.

Romans 1:17 forms an inclusio with 3:21 to further distinguish the righteousness of God from his punitive justice, or wrath. The effect is an appearance of collapsing his character to mercy alone. It is important to remember that, in the OT, God’s character always consists of both mercy and justice. The verbal parallels between 1:17 and 3:21 are striking when read in Greek:

1:17 dikaiosūne gar theoū en auto apokalūptetai ek pisteōs

3:21 chōris nomoū dikaiosūne theoū pephanerōtai

First, the phrase dikaosunē theou appears in both verses, and they are both anarthrous. Second, although the two verses employ two different verbs (“revealed” [apokalūptetai] in 1:17 and “manifested” [pefanerōtai] in 3:21), they are both in the passive voice and their underlying meaning of revelation remains the same. Their tenses differ because they describe the revelation of God’s righteousness in two different redemptive contexts. The present tense used in 1:17 refers to the revelation occurring in the context of the proclamation of the gospel (en autō). The perfect tense used in 3:21 refers to the revelation that has taken place in the context of the death of Christ (cf. 3:25).²⁸ Yet, they both have the same reference point. The gospel is a proclamation of the death and resurrection of Christ (cf. 1 Cor 11:26; 15:1-4f.). These verbal and thematic crossovers between 3:21 and 1:17 indicate their close interconnection. They form an inclusio around the discussion of God’s wrath in 1:18-3:20, distinguishing the revelation of his righteousness from the revelation of his wrath.

The introduction of the phrase “apart from the law” (chōris nomou) in 3:21, however, heightens the tension and takes the discussion beyond simply making distinctions between wrath and righteousness to an outright exclusion of wrath. James Dunn notes in his Romans commentary that the “juxtaposition of the two phrases (“apart from the law” [and] “the righteousness of God”)” is “shocking” because the law and righteousness belong together in Judaism.²⁹ Paul’s intention in Romans is to carefully align the Law of Moses with God’s wrath. For example, in 4:15, Paul categorically states, “The law brings wrath.” The law and wrath belong together in Paul’s thinking because, lacking the power to meet the law’s demands, humans constantly transgress them. Thus, the purpose of the law is to reveal that they are under the power of sin (3:9, 23). Paul further aligns the law with God’s future judgment in 2:13: “The doers of the law … will be justified.” The future tense used in this verse (dikaiōthēsontai; “will be justified”) points to God’s final judgment, where no one will be justified by their performance of the law (3:19). Instead, God’s fearsome wrath awaits everyone who relies on the law. In Paul’s teaching, the law is tied up with God’s wrath. In other words, when Paul excludes the law from the manifestation of God’s righteousness in 3:21, he is also excluding his wrath from his character.

This exclusion of God’s wrath from his righteousness, however, does not indicate that Paul is excluding justice from his character. As already noted above, mercy and justice are constant factors that are always present together on all levels of OT witness when describing God’s righteous character. Paul is no exception to this rule. The purpose of his careful argument in Romans is not to exclude justice from God’s character altogether but to distinguish God’s wrath from his justice. One sees this intent perhaps most clearly in his discussion of Christ’s work in Romans 5. In 5:15-19, Paul offers, as it were, two columns, one for Adam and one for Christ, to explain the meaning of Christ’s death. These two columns represent two ages, the Age of Adam and the Age of Christ. Paul lists the consequences of sin under the Age of Adam, and the consequences of righteousness under the Age of Christ, as in the following chart:

All the words describing the Adamic column are negative—judgment (v. 15), condemnation (vv. 16 and 18), death (v. 17), and sinner (v. 19 – and placed in one column. All the words describing the Age of Christ are positive – grace (vv. 15-16), righteousness (vv. 16-17), life (vv. 17-18), justification (v. 18) and righteous (v. 19) – and placed in the opposite column. It is important to note here that there is no overlap between these two columns. For example, dikaiosunē (righteousness) in v. 17 appears in the Age of Christ column opposite death. Death is the punishment meted out on Adam’s posterity. It never appears in the column representing the Age of Christ. Similarly, dikaiosunē never once appears in the Adamic Age column that represents the age of wrath (5:9). These arrangements of terms underscore the mutually exclusive nature of the two ages. They divide human history into two ages, one representing wrath and the other representing righteousness, and have significant implications for our understanding of God’s character because his wrath is never part of the core characteristics of the Age of Christ. This exclusion of wrath indicates that it is not intrinsic to God’s justice. Its absence will not compromise the integrity of God’s righteous character in the coming age.

Paul’s attempt to exclude God’s wrath from his justice in the Coming Age becomes even more evident when we compare 5:8 and 3:21.

First, the death of Christ is the topic in both verses. The new element in 5:8 is that Paul describes the death of Christ as God’s demonstration of his love for us. This understanding of Christ’s death in terms of love reveals a deeper meaning of God’s righteousness in 3:21 where “righteousness” clearly refers to the gospel proclamation. As we have already seen, the gospel is a proclamation of the death and resurrection of Christ. The opening verb “proves” (sūnistēsin) in 5:8 refers to what was achieved through the death of Christ. The verb “disclosed” (pephanerōtai) in 3:21 similarly refers to a disclosure of what Christ has achieved through his death. This point may not be clear because Paul does not explicitly mention death in 3:21, but the focus is unmistakable, particularly in light of the verses that follow. James Dunn sums up the significance of Christ’s death in 3:21-26 as follows: “Christ’s death, a sacrifice for sin provided by God in accordance with the law, is God’s means of extending his righteousness to all who believe.”³⁰ It follows, then, that the revelation of God’s righteousness in Christ’s death is simultaneously a revelation of God’s love without his wrath.

God’s justice, however, is not far from Paul’s mind. For he clearly uses the phrase “righteousness of God” in 3:5 to describe the justice of God, in departure from 1:17 and 3:21. He writes, “But if our unrighteousness serves to show the righteousness of God (theou dikaiosūne), what shall we say? That God is unrighteous to inflict wrath on us?” (ESV). Interestingly, the NRSV translates dikaiosūne theoū in this passage with “justice”: “But if our injustice serves to confirm the justice of God (theoū dikaiosūne), what should we say? That God is unjust to inflict wrath on us?” The righteousness of God clearly has the meaning of justice and jurisprudence in this passage. The verb “demonstrate” or “show” (sūnistēsin) further underscores the juridical intent of the verse: “But if our unrighteousness serves to show (sūnistēsin) the righteousness of God, what shall we say?” (ESV). The focus is God’s justice revealed at the cross. Paul’s point here is clear. The death of Christ demonstrates the justice of God, just as much as it demonstrates his love. In Paul’s thinking, justice is an inalienable part of God’s righteous character. The wrath comes into view only where his justice is exercised to deal with sin. Where there is no sin, his justice requires no wrath.

The notion of divine justice is not missing in 5:8, as the verb “proves” (sūnistēsin) implies divine justice. Paul writes, “but God proves (sūnistēsin) his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.” The point here is that the death of Christ “provide[s] evidence of” God’s “claim” to love through the “action” of Christ.³¹ We saw that Paul equates Christ’s death with the revelation of God’s righteousness (cf. 1:17; 3:21). The question is why God would need to prove his love in this manner. The answer is that his death satisfies God’s justice. “Christ died for our sins” (cf. 1 Cor 15:3), Paul writes. We see a similar focus on God’s justice in 3:25: “Whom God put forward as an expiation by his blood, to be received by faith. This was to show God's righteousness.” Christ’s death demonstrates, satisfies, and reveals his justice, as well as his mercy because his justice constitutes an integral part of his righteous character. Thus, when Paul excludes punitive justice – his wrath – from the Age of Christ in Romans 5, his intent is to show that while justice is a necessary and eternal component of God’s righteous character, his wrath is not. Rather, wrath represents a particular modus operandi of God’s justice that seeks to deal with transgression of the law. God is just even when his punitive justice is no longer necessary.

God’s Righteousness and the Human Response of Faith

The proper human response to God’s eschatological revelation of righteousness is faith, but in reality, we can respond to God’s righteousness in two ways. We will call the first way plan A. As Rom 2:13 explains, plan A is doing what the law requires: “For it is not the hearers of the law who are righteous in God's sight, but the doers of the law who will be justified.” According to this plan, those who receive justification are those who keep the law. Under this plan, justification is a factual declaration. It identifies the persons who are actually righteous. This is also God’s original plan that has been in place since the beginning of time. The problem is that no one can qualify for righteousness under this plan. For “there is no one who is righteous, not even one” (Rom. 3:10), Paul writes. Again, “no human being will be justified in his sight by the deeds prescribed by the law.” (Rom. 3:20). The two tenses used in these verses – the present tense “there is” and the future tense “will be” – are important. Judged by the holy standards of the law, there neither is nor will be anyone who is righteous because “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:23). This bleak situation will not change at the end time, but God’s plan A will always be the default plan in his kingdom. It is the doers of the law who are righteous. For that is the way it has been since eternity.

Plan B, or the second way to respond to God’s eschatological revelation of righteousness, is by faith: “The righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe” (Rom. 3:22). It is faith that enables those who “fall short of the glory of God” (v. 23) to qualify as righteous even when they are not. If, hypothetically, there were to be a generation of people at the end of the earth’s history who could qualify as righteous by means of their own deeds of the law, that is by plan A, faith would be extraneous for them. For they could simply appear before the Judgment Seat of God (Rom 14:10; 2 Cor 5:10) and claim righteousness based on what they have done (cf. Rom 2:11-13). Such a group of humans would be an exception to the rest of humanity, as they alone would have no need for Christ’s atonement. The truth is that there will be no such group among the redeemed. Those saved will be those “who without works trust[s] him who justifies the ungodly” (Rom 4:5). Their song will be, ‘Worthy is the Lamb that was slaughtered to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!’” (Rev 5:12).

God’s plan B roughly corresponds to the problem of God’s wrath. First, they are both not intrinsic to the way things have been since eternity and the way they will be for eternity. Where there is no sin, actual and perfect obedience, and not simply faith, is the basis of human righteousness, and similarly, God’s righteousness is just but without any wrath. Second, faith is a special provision made as part of the plan of salvation to deliver erring humans from his burning wrath. Thus, sinners can avert the wrath only by faith in Christ. Any attempt to do so on their own, regardless of the time of history they live in, will result in devastation and failure.

Justification is a verdict. It represent the “law court” language.³² It denotes a verdict of righteousness given before the impartial Tribunal of God (Rom. 2:11-13). In other words, justification implies divine judgment. Many, however, confuse justification with “the assurance of salvation” or in some cases even equate it with salvation itself. So for some, if you are justified, it practically means you will be “going to heaven.”³³ This way of thinking has led many to argue that justification obviates the need for the Final Judgment. But this is not how Paul explains justification because he firmly affirms both the need for justification by faith without the works of the law (Gal 2:16) and also the need for the Final Judgment that will be based on the deeds done in the body (2 Cor 5:10). What justification does is to open up a personal time of probation between the time of our justification and the time of our appearance before the Heavenly Tribunal, the same way the historical time of probation has opened up between the death of Jesus and the final judgment. In other words, God’s judgment is delivered to us in two phases, first through justification and second, through his final judgment at the end of time.

We can gain a window into this concept of judgment by considering the Early Jewish apocalyptic literature of Paul’s time. According to Gabriele Boccaccini,³⁴ the time of the end means God’s final-final judgment for the wicked in this genre of Jewish literature, as already noted. This meant that the wicked should have no further chance for repentance after the final judgment. The problem facing Paul and the early church was that the anticipated time of the eschatological Judgment that came with the death and resurrection of Christ (2 Cor 1:20; cf. Acts 2:16ff) did not result in the final destruction of the wicked. Furthermore, the coming of the Messiah was supposed to be the end of this Present Age and the beginning of the Coming Age. One sees vestiges of these beliefs, for example, in the preaching of John the Baptist (cf. Mat 3:9-12). The problem was that early Christians preached repentance and the wicked – both Jews and Gentiles – were given a second chance in the Messianic Age that dawned in Christ. The solution was the realization that God in his great mercy had opened up a time of probation, a surprise phase of the Judgment, that would allow all who exercised faith in Jesus to be saved. Paul’s great contribution to this discussion is that justification, or God’s declaration of a righteous verdict on behalf the sinner, marks the beginning of the entire judgement process. In other words, justification is the first phase of God’s final judgment.

The probation that has opened up in the present time functions through granting “access” to the “throne of grace” (Rom 5:1; cf. Heb 4:16) for those who have faith. In the meantime, the final-final Judgment, the Day of Wrath, is postponed to the future and will be executed according the “what that has been done in the body” (2 Cor 5:10; cf. Rom 2:5, 6), in other words, according to plan A. In order to survive the final judgment, one must continuously access God’s throne of grace in the present time to obtain grace and righteousness. This is why faith plays such a pivotal role in Paul’s teaching. It grants us access to God, deliverance from the wrath, but not a guarantee of salvation. The best illustration of this principle is perhaps the Gospel stories of Jesus’s healing miracles that underscore faith as the way fearful and broken human beings found access to his eternal power.

Therefore, faith is a trust placed in God’s righteous character. For some Christians, their transformation is the basis of their assurance of salvation. For other it is the objective, extra nos, verdict of righteousness. But all such notions misconstrue Paul’s intent. The purpose of God’s righteous verdict, or justification, is to enable those who come to him in faith to escape his fierce wrath, so they can have access to his throne of grace from whence alone they can obtain the cleansing power of healing that they need. Many overlook at their own peril the central importance of the inseparable relationship between faith and the access one has to God’s merciful character.

As an integral part of the final judgment, justification represents a new reality. Justification is not a fictitious verdict although it is granted based on faith rather than the deeds. Nor is it a mere psychological phenomenon through which the mind obtains a sense of assurance and happiness. It removes the wrath from the eschatological revelation of God’s righteousness. As we already noted, there will be no more wrath in the Coming Age. And Christ has removed God’s wrath in the present time by receiving our condemnation and our punishment in his body (Rom. 8:3; 2 Cor. 5:21). He became the Mercy Seat, our atonement and ransom (Rom. 3:25),³⁵ indeed God’s sin offering (2 Cor. 5:21; Rom. 8:3), so that he could satisfy God’s penal justice and thereby remove it from God’s rightful exercise of justice. Paul devotes nearly three chapters of Romans, one fifth of the letter, to discuss the question of God’s wrath to indicate its reality. Christ removed God’s wrath looming over us through his death. It goes beyond the scope of this essay to discuss just how such a substitutionary death makes sense, but it suffices to say that this is what Paul intends. The preposition hūper hēmōn, which has the sense of someone doing something for the sake of someone,³⁶ like a scribe a writing a letter for someone, describes the substitutionary character of Christ’s death. Christ died for our sins, receiving the punishment and wrath that was ours. The reality of Justification rests on the reality of the atonement of Christ that effectively removed God’s wrath and opened up access to the throne of grace.

Justification also represents an epistemological change on our part. It is not enough to believe that Christ has met the demand of the law and satisfied God’s punitive justice. Nor is it enough to believe that we have received the verdict of righteousness even though we are not actually righteous. Rather, justification by faith changes the way we view God. The revelation of God’s righteousness apart from the law means a revelation of his true character without the distortion caused by his wrath, namely his punitive justice, which was called into action because of our transgressions and the condemnation of the law. In separating God’s wrath from his justice and placing such a forceful emphasis on his love, Paul implies that our natural understanding of God’s justice as well as his character is fundamentally flawed and in need of serious revision. It was to correct this misconception that God chose to reveal his righteousness through the Cross, God’s weakness and “foolishness” (1 Cor. 1:23), in other words, justice without wrath. By removing wrath from his justice, God demonstrated his true character in all its glory with his mercy and justice perfectly reconciled. Justification by faith helps us to reimagine God in his love that he powerfully demonstrated through the unexpected death of Christ for sinners who not only least deserved it but also failed to fully grasp it.

Finally, justification represents a theodicy. The cause of God’s wrath is the transgression of the law. It is easy to equate God’s justice with his wrath when reading the OT. Two passages from Exodus suffice to make the point. First, in LXX Exod. 15:7, wrath (orgē) is used to describe God’s punishment of the Egyptians for their hubris: “And in the greatness of Your excellence You have overthrown those who rose against You; You sent forth Your wrath (orgē); it consumed them like stubble” (NKJV). Again in Exod 32:10, orgē is used to describe God’s punishment: “Now therefore, let Me alone, that My wrath (orgē) may burn hot against them and I may consume them. And I will make of you a great nation” (NKJV). Here orgē describes God’s exceeding anger and displeasure against Israel for their building and worshipping of the golden calf. In both these Exodus passages, wrath denotes God’s righteous punishment inflicted on those who oppose him. In Romans, Paul teaches us how to read such passages correctly. First, in spite of his wrath, God is not an angry Deity and the essential nature of his justice is not vengeful. God is perfectly capable of expressing himself without wrath and also without harming the integrity of his justice. Thus, Isaiah 28:21 describes his wrath as a “strange act,” something alien to his nature, but something that he must undertake as the Judge of the world. Second, his wrath is an expression of his love because in the final analysis it is a redemptive act. This is clear from the golden calf incident. God’s wrath burned against Israel because of their idolatry. But he showed no such anger for the idolatry of other nations. It is because God loved Israel and wished to save them that his wrath was revealed against them. The same redemptive principle applies to the giving of the law. Certainly, the law brought wrath to Israel, but God’s purpose in giving the law was to save Israel and to restore her to the image of God.

Unfortunately, however, one sometimes uses the substitutionary death of Christ as a bulwark against the moral influence theory, thereby creating an unnecessary wall between God’s love and justice. It is the contention of this essay that the key problem is that both the proponents of the substitutionary death theory and the moral influence theory seem to agree that God’s justice is essentially punitive, the former emphasizing the importance of satisfying it and the latter emphasizing the importance of excluding it from the discussion of atonement altogether. Splitting up the discussion of God’s righteousness in this way is not helpful. Paul recognizes no such dichotomy between God’s love and justice. He only recognizes the dichotomy between his love, that is to say, justice and wrath.

In closing, Paul’s point is twofold. First, we see God in his true character when we by faith remove the fear of punishment from our understanding of God’s justice. God’s acts are always redemptive, even when they are punitive. Second, justification by faith concerns gaining access to the throne of grace through Christ. It both allows and encourages us to approach the powerful throne of God without fear to receive timely help as we await the final judgment, after which when sin has been removed, his wrath will recede into the background, never again to resurface throughout eternity.