Steadfast–Never Static!
Ḥesed, like so many other Hebrew words is subtly nuanced and multi-faceted. When we encounter it today, we have to keep in mind that it has passed through a 3000-year long game of telephone from Hebrew to Greek to Latin to English. In addition to the challenges of moving between languages, we have a cultural chasm to bridge as well. It is difficult or impossible to appreciate the original culturally—specific nuances of a word when we try to apply it to today’s culture with vastly different understandings of the nature of virtually all relationships—nuclear family, spouses, extended families, tribes, nations, one’s own religion, other religions, and, of course, our relationship with God.
It is little wonder, then, that this complex, nuanced, culturally rooted concept of ḥesed should be understood—correctly or incorrectly—in an astonishingly wide range of ways. As a one-to-one translation, we see it appear in Bible translations, commentaries, and contemporary sermons as mercy, love, “steadfast love,” and loyalty. And while there are indeed diverse facets to this word, some of the translations and interpretations are not only mutually contradictory, but in some cases, might directly contradict the originally intended Hebrew understanding of the term.
For many Christians today, the most frequent way of interpreting the concept of ḥesed is of God’s steadfast love—the guarantee of God’s unwavering faithfulness in showing love to God’s creation. But is it absolutely universal, applying to all humankind, or are some people excluded? Also is it a promise of absolutely unwavering love or are there conditions in which we might not be able to count upon experiencing God’s love?
Many preachers today, particularly those with a conservative perspective, present ḥesed as absolutely unconditional. This parallels the concept that once an individual has accepted Jesus and “been saved,” that no amount of personal sin, hatred, and individual immorality can separate one from the assurance of heaven. This understanding echoes the Calvinist concept that because of the inherent depravity of humankind, even the saintliest of people cannot merit salvation due to our own efforts. Personal salvation, then, is a guaranteed result of Jesus’ atonement for us all—from the most wicked to the saintliest once a person has accepted Jesus. It is Jesus, rather than our own actions beyond accepting Jesus, that justifies and saves a person. To some Christians, ḥesed is understood in an identical manner. The inherently loving nature of God is so great that our individual behaviors do not in any way diminish the assurance of God’s love, mercy, forgiveness, and blessings. That love is absolute and unwavering. Period.
However, on closer examination, many theologians and preachers believe that ḥesed hinges on one major condition. The foundation upon which the ḥesed promise is built is that it exists exclusively within a covenantal relationship between two explicitly identified parties. It is not universal. No, God’s love and blessings are only guaranteed to those who are in a two-way covenant. Unlike the rain that falls on the righteous and unrighteous alike, ḥesed is a characteristic extended explicitly to those who are party to and actively participate in the two-party covenant between God and God’s people. The benefits of ḥesed do flow in one direction—from God to humankind—but they are an inherent component of a two-way relationship that carries the obligation for something to flow back towards God from humankind. Both parties knowingly and voluntarily accept their obligations within the covenantal relationship if they wish to enjoy the covenantal benefits as well.
“I will be your God and you will be my people,” expresses the covenantal foundation without being obscured by the details of the covenantal responsibilities and benefits. And the most critically important element of this covenant that overshadows any details of worship, sacrifice, purity codes, or commandments is loyalty to each other.
Loyalty is key to understanding ḥesed. It is the very nature of loyalty that it takes place in the present tense and loyalty is inherently reciprocal. This means that the “steadfast love” that is promised to flow from God must be returned. It is love rather than contractual details of specific rule or rituals that must be reciprocated. This is expressed particularly clearly in Hos 6:6, “For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice” and in Ps 51:16–17, “For you have no delight in sacrifice; if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased. The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit, a broken and contrite heart.”
To expand on this, ḥesed functions more to define the breadth and depth of a relationship rather than as an exhaustive set of explicit legal terms and conditions. Yet having said this, it is more than just an abstract or isolated feeling. Ḥesed needs to be reflected in actions—loving actions, caring actions, merciful actions from all parties to the covenant. Loyalty and covenants by no means need to put equal demands on all the participating parties. Certainly in the covenant between God and God’s people, God’s actions and humankind’s reciprocal actions are of vastly different magnitude, but they spring from a single concept of mutual loyalty and love.
In biblical times or in contemporary society, life is uncertain. If disease, famine, and warfare made life uncertain in biblical times, it really is not all that different from today’s concerns over health care, climate change, and terrorist states with nuclear weapons. We may not face starvation with a single poor growing season, but we are as worried about our retirement security as any ancient farmer. Then and now we feel we are living in uncertain times and we have a deep-seated longing for certainty and something we can depend on.
Ḥesed, the promise of God’s love, was, is, and will always address this deep-seated need. We need to know that regardless of the uncertainties of health, politics, war, personal relationships, and economics there is something on which we can count. We need to know where we can turn to share our greatest joys and deepest hurts, to know where we are always accepted. And so, we continue to read the Psalms where we find the theme of ḥesed runs through every page. We continue to read the words of Jesus where he again and again quotes the Psalms and echoes the promise of the steadfast love of God.
One of the most useful “filters” in not only understanding but treasuring the ancient concept of ḥesed despite the challenges of time, culture, and language is to emphasize that ḥesed is never experienced entirely passively. Consider the term “mercy,” one of the more common ways that ḥesed has been handed down to us. When ḥesed is translated simply as “mercy,” perhaps our immediate concept is of something that we receive passively as a gift or blessing. One person dispenses mercy and another person receives it. In everyday life we think of total strangers such as traffic court judges and hospital emergency room workers dispensing forms of mercy. It is unidirectional—we owe nothing to the EMS first-responder other than a “thank you.” We walk out of the emergency room or the courtroom, and we have no ongoing relationship with those who have shown us mercy. In all likelihood we may never see them again and particularly importantly, they will certainly never come to us asking for anything in the future.
But ḥesed is a continuing relationship. The mercy we receive from God, involves a life-long attitude of worship and profound gratitude, and a personal attitude of displaying our own merciful actions toward other people today and tomorrow as well.
The challenge for preachers today is to convey to our congregations an appreciation of ḥesed as a dynamic relationship rather than some static concept or lifeless anachronistic churchism. Ḥesed is God’s active love—then, now, and always—with a corresponding invitation to us here and now to reflect that love with our daily attitude and our daily actions towards God and towards our neighbor.
