By God's Command
Human beings have always prided themselves on the advantage gained from possessing knowledge that others lack. We boast of being smarter, more informed, more enlightened—as if we were the elite guardians of some secret insight reserved for our sect, our institution, or our circle. Whether the advantage lies in religious doctrine, education, status, political ideology, or modern technology, it always devolves into the same pattern: insiders against outsiders, the few who “know” against the many who do not.
From ancient cults, esoteric associations, and manufactured religions (steeped in symbols wrongly appropriated from sacred texts) to modern marketing campaigns promising the “secret to success,” humanity’s obsession with exclusive knowledge endures. Yet all of it is vanity—corruption and folly dressed as wisdom. Whether through ritual, ideology, or playground-style cliques, every claim to possess hidden knowledge and to exercise control over others is sublime vanity, doomed to folly.
There is only one source of knowledge—the Father of all—and he alone is the fountain of might, power, and strength. Scripture repeats this warning at every turn, and when human beings ignore it, all things collapse in ruin. The arrogant, trusting in themselves, gleefully amplify human chaos in opposition to him, emboldened by misguided self-confidence.
Indeed, their knowledge springs from self-importance, and their strength from oppression. In their false eschaton, the work of men’s hands turns to dust, even as the God of Abraham remains—ever present, all-knowing, all-wise, and all-powerful. Moreover, as Matthew wrote, this God stands as the enemy of those among them who invoke his name, “Lord, Lord.”
But Yahweh, our Elohim, is always in control despite the schemes of Baal’s followers who deceive the devout who have fallen for the institutions he destroys.
“For they plan, and God plans; and God is the best of planners.”
وَمَكَرُوا وَمَكَرَ اللَّهُ، وَاللَّهُ خَيْرُ الْمَاكِرِينَ
wa-makarū wa-makara llāhu, wa-llāhu khayru l-mākirīn
(Qurʾan, Surat Āl ʿImrān سورة آل عمران “The Family of Imran” 3:54)
Every time the human being seizes power or claims insight as his own, the result is the same: pride, decay, and judgment. Yet each collapse becomes Elohim’s opportunity to remind us of his immutable sovereignty. He alone commands and restores. As it is written by Paul’s right hand:
“God is not mocked.” (Galatians 6:7)
His wisdom is not ours to possess, let alone to control or co-opt. His dominion is written into the fabric of creation itself. The heavens do not father the earth; both submit to the patriarchy of the one God of Abraham, the Master of all things.
This is the reality encoded in Scriptural grammar and function and fulfilled in the obedience of Jesus. It is the recognition that knowledge and strength proceed only from God’s command, which has the power to heal even Israel.
This week, I discuss Luke 8:46.
“ὁ δὲ Ἰησοῦς εἶπεν· Ἥψατό μού τις, ἐγὼ γὰρ ἔγνων (י-ד-ע) δύναμιν (ח-י-ל) ἐξεληλυθυῖαν ἀπʼ ἐμοῦ.”
“But Jesus said, ‘Someone did touch me, for I was aware [ἔγνων (egnon) / י־ד־ע (yod–dalet–ʿayin)] that power [δύναμιν (dynamin) / ח־י־ל (ḥet–yod–lamed)] had gone out of me.’”
(Luke 8:46)
γινώσκω (ginosko) / י-ד-ע (yod–dalet–ʿayin) / ع-ر-ف (ʿayn–rāʾ–fāʾ)
In its scriptural itinerary, יָדַע (yadaʿ) functions as relational recognition rooted in revelation and obedience. Gnostics invert this by treating knowledge as an object of possession: a secret commodity that grants status or liberation to a spiritual elite.
The Itinerary of Knowledge
“Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew [וַיֵּדְעוּ (wayyedaʿu)] that they were naked.” (Genesis 3:7)
When Adam and Eve transgress the divine command, their eyes are “opened,” and י-ד-ע (yod–dalet–ʿayin) marks the moment of realization. They do not gain divine insight; they recognize their separation and vulnerability.
“You shall know [וִידַעְתֶּם (widaʿtem)] that I am Yahweh your God, who brought you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians.” (Exodus 6:7)
In Egypt, Yahweh assured deliverance. Israel will know him as the mighty one who was victorious against the elite rulers who burdened his people. Knowledge comes through divine encounter (in this case, remembrance at the opportune time) and obedience, not human speculation.
“Then they shall know [וְיָדְעוּ (weyadeʿu)] that I am Yahweh.” (Ezekiel 6:7)
The same Yahweh declares judgment upon Israel for their idolatry. Weyadeʿu means that through destruction and exile—the opportune time—through divine encounter, the people will come to recognize his immutable sovereignty.
“The fear of Yahweh is the beginning of knowledge [דַּעַת (daʿat)].” (Proverbs 1:7)
Wisdom begins not in self-referential discovery but in submission. Daʿat, י-ד-ע (yod–dalet–ʿayin), denotes divine instruction. It is submission to God’s ordering of creation that begins with fear, that is, reverent submission to his command.
“But Jesus said, ‘Someone did touch me, for I was aware [ἔγνων (egnon)] that power had gone out of me.’” (Luke 8:46)
When the woman touches Jesus’ garment, ἔγνων (egnon) expresses not psychological awareness but recognition of divine power at work. In Genesis 3:7, Adam and Eve know [wayyedaʿu] only after breaking the divine command. What they perceive is separation, not illumination. In Exodus 6:7, Israel knows [widaʿtem] Yahweh because at the opportune time, they remember his act of deliverance; the exiles know [weyadeʿu] Yahweh through judgment. In every case, knowledge is not a self-referential human discovery but an encounter with God’s judgment. Even in Proverbs 1:7, daʿat signifies not human moral or ethical insight but awareness of divine instruction grounded in reverent fear.
When Jesus knows that power has gone out from him (Luke 8:46), the same dynamic unfolds: divine initiative, human encounter, recognition, and restoration. The “knowing” is God-referential. It is an acknowledgment of divine operation rather than an act of introspection.
This same itinerary and literary pattern continues in the Qurʾan, where the Arabic triliteral root ع-ر-ف (ʿayn–rāʾ–fāʾ) appears frequently. Its core function is to know, recognize, acknowledge, or make known. It parallels the Hebrew י-ד-ע (yod–dalet–ʿayin) and the Greek γινώσκω (ginosko) in expressing knowledge as submission to God rather than human possession.
“And say, ‘All praise be to God! He will show you his signs, and you will recognize them [فَتَعْرِفُونَهَا (fa-taʿrifūnahā)]. And your Lord is never unaware of what you do.’” (Qurʾan, Surat al-Naml سورة النمل “The Ant” 27:93)
The Prophet is commanded to proclaim divine praise. God will reveal his آيَات (āyāt, “signs”), and humans will recognize them. تَعْرِفُونَهَا (taʿrifūnahā, “recognize”), from ع-ر-ف (ʿayn–rāʾ–fāʾ), parallels י-ד-ע (yod–dalet–ʿayin) in expressing recognition through divine initiative.
δύναμις (dynamis) / ח-י-ל (ḥet-yod-lamed) / ح/خ-ي-ل (kh/ḥāʾ-yāʾ-lām)
In its scriptural itinerary, חַיִל (ḥayil) traces the shifting center of human and divine strength—from human vigor and wealth to apparent righteousness and, finally, to disempowerment under divine hegemony. Its Greek and Arabic counterparts, δύναμις (dynamis) and خيل (khayl), preserve this same tension between force and faithfulness.
Across the canon, Scripture exposes strength as a double-edged sign:
- As human possession, it breeds pride, violence, and idolatry.
- As human obedience, it becomes the vehicle of divine mercy and order.
Thus, ḥayil, dynamis, and khayl together describe the textual migration of power—from human agency to divine sovereignty—where true might is submission, and true victory is dependence on the Command of the Shepherd.
The Itinerary of Power
“The chariots of Pharaoh and his army [חֵיל פַּרְעֹה (ḥel farʿoh)] he has cast into the sea.” (Exodus 15:4)
Here, ḥayil embodies human military might. Egypt’s ḥayil collapses in the sea, revealing that divine victory negates human pretension. Power as possession becomes the object of God’s judgment.
“You may say in your heart, ‘My power and the strength of my hand made me this wealth [חַיִל (ḥayil)],’ but you shall remember Yahweh your God, for it is he who is giving you power to make wealth.” (Deuteronomy 8:17–18)
In Deuteronomy, ḥayil shifts from martial or social strength to economic capacity—the power to produce and possess wealth. Moses warns Israel not to claim, “My power and the strength of my hand made me this wealth” (Deuteronomy 8:17). Like yadaʿ, to know God in Deuteronomy means to remember and obey, recognizing him as the true source of sustenance. Strength, like knowledge, is not self-derived but granted through submission to divine command. This same critique of self-sufficient wealth reappears in Paul’s gospel of grace, where he insists that nothing humanity possesses is earned by human effort, but received as a gift from God.
“The angel of Yahweh appeared to him and said, ‘Yahweh is with you, O valiant warrior [גִבּוֹר הֶחָיִל (gibbōr heḥayil)].’” (Judges 6:12)
In Judges, ḥayil designates moral courage rooted in divine commissioning. Gideon’s strength is not his own. Power serves obedience to God’s command, not conquest or gain. The positive ḥayil aligns with the obedient yadaʿ—both grounded in divine instruction.
“A strong woman [אֵשֶׁת־חַיִל (ʾeshet ḥayil)] who can find? For her worth is far above jewels.” (Proverbs 31:10)
“Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears Yahweh, she shall be praised. Give her from the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates.” (Proverbs 31:30–31)
The ʾeshet ḥayil (“woman of strength”) personifies wisdom itself, embodying the wisdom of Proverbs as obedience under divine command. Western scholars and self-referential poets have too often sentimentalized this text, treating it as a token of affection for women or their “beloved.” Aside from being cheap, few have paused to consider the presumption of such poets and the seat they have usurped in doing so. Worse still, some have affixed the title "wisdom" to human buildings (literally) or to institutional grandeur, an inversion of Proverbs’ central claim that wisdom belongs to God alone, his name be praised. The woman’s ḥayil forshadows Matthew’s Gospel insofar as it lies beyond the reach of human power. It is neither physical might nor social prestige but faithful agency.
In Zechariah 4, the prophet receives a vision of a golden lampstand flanked by two olive trees, a symbolic revelation concerning Zerubbabel, the governor tasked with rebuilding the temple after the Babylonian exile.
When the angel interprets the vision, he declares:
“This is the word of Yahweh to Zerubbabel: ‘Not by might [בְּחַיִל (beḥayil)] nor by power, but by my Spirit,’ says Yahweh of hosts.” (Zechariah 4:6)
Here, ḥayil represents human strength, whether military, political, or material capacity. In this moment, the Prophet inverts ḥayil. The traditional symbols of success—armies, resources, and institutions—are declared powerless before the Spirit of God. Zechariah’s message corrects the human illusion of autonomy: true restoration stems only from divine command. Zerubbabel’s rebuilding of the temple thus becomes the archetype for all human labor under God’s rule: strength is submission to God, and not self-referential.
This prophetic inversion fulfills the principle already articulated in the wisdom of Proverbs. The ʾeshet ḥayil (“woman of strength”) embodies what Zechariah proclaims: her ḥayil is not self-generated but ordered under divine instruction. Just as the prophet rejects worldly power in favor of ruaḥ (Spirit), Proverbs locates true strength in reverent fear: “The fear of Yahweh is the beginning of knowledge.” (Proverbs 1:7)
Thus, Zechariah 4:6 completes the functional itinerary of ḥayil. What once signified external force finds its fulfillment in God’s hegemony and the potency of his Spirit, anticipating the Gospel’s dynamis: the power of God made manifest through obedience and awe before his command. Both the prophetic and wisdom traditions converge to declare: strength has meaning only when it serves divine order; all other worldly power is illusion.
In the Qurʾan, the Arabic cognate خَيْل (khayl) preserves the same semantic field as Hebrew חַיִל (ḥayil)—strength, force, or might—while exposing its polarity. Power becomes legitimate only when exercised under divine command; when self-referential, it becomes arrogance.
“And prepare against them whatever you are able of power and of tethered horses [الْخَيْل (al-khayl)] by which you may terrify the enemy of God and your enemy, and others besides them whom you do not know—but God knows them. And whatever you spend in the way of God will be repaid to you in full, and you will not be wronged.”
(Qurʾan, Surat al-Anfāl سورة الأنفال “The Spoils of War” 8:60)
This verse instructs believers to prepare for defense, not conquest. The phrase “prepare against them whatever you are able of power and of tethered horses [الْخَيْل (al-khayl)]” orders readiness under divine command, not self-willed aggression. The objective—“to terrify the enemy of God and your enemy”—defines al-khayl as disciplined strength in service to divine will, meant to deter hostility and preserve the umma.
As in Exodus 14:13-14 and 15:4, where Yahweh fights for Israel, the Qurʾanic command does not transfer divine power to human hands but requires obedient preparation within God’s sovereignty. The believers prepare; God remains the true actor. Strength here is provisional and dependent. It is a tool of protection, not domination. It mirrors early Israel’s ḥayil as service under Yahweh’s command rather than an autonomous force.
“…and God does not guide every boastful, self-deluded man [مُخْتَالٍ فَخُورٍ (mukhtāl fakhūr)].”
(Qurʾan, Surat al-Ḥadīd سورة الحديد “Iron” 57:23)
57:23 warns against emotional excess tied to possession. Again, arrogance is born when ḥayil, strength or capacity, becomes self-referential. The phrase مُخْتَالٍ فَخُورٍ (mukhtāl fakhūr, “self-deluded and boastful”) derives from خ–ي–ل (khāʾ–yāʾ–lām), a root originally describing the proud gait of one displaying his khayl (horses, power). The imagery mirrors the biblical misuse of ḥayil—the visible sign of wealth, force, or capacity turned inward into vanity. What begins as a legitimate endowment becomes a false display of power, detached from divine purpose. The verse rejects strength as self-display and redefines it as detachment and ingratitude before God.
This correction stands squarely within the biblical itinerary of ḥayil. In Deuteronomy 8:17–18, Moses warns Israel not to say, “My power and the strength of my hand made me this wealth [ḥayil],” but to remember that it is Yahweh who gives you power to produce ḥayil. The same dynamic appears in Ecclesiastes 2:4–11, where the pursuit of works and possessions ends in emptiness. ḥayil without obedience becomes hebel (vanity). In Proverbs 11:28, the one who trusts in riches—another manifestation of self-derived ḥayil—falls, while “the righteous flourish like a green leaf.”
“And do not turn your face away from people in arrogance, nor walk in pride upon the earth. Indeed, God does not love any arrogant boaster [مُخْتَالٍ فَخُورٍ (mukhtāl fakhūr)].”
(Qurʾan, Surat Luqmān سورة لقمان “Luqman” 31:18)
In 31:18, the command comes within Luqmān’s exhortation to his son, a passage that teaches humility, gratitude, and discipline as expressions of faith. The term مُخْتَالٍ فَخُورٍ (mukhtāl fakhūr) combines two closely linked ideas:
- mukhtāl, from خ–ي–ل (khāʾ–yāʾ–lām), originally describing someone who struts proudly, displaying khayl (horses, outward power); and
- fakhūr, from ف–خ–ر (fāʾ–khāʾ–rāʾ), meaning boastful, glorying in oneself.
Together, they depict a posture of visible self-exaltation, a pride that manifests in both bearing and speech. Luqmān warns his son against the corruption of strength and social standing into arrogance. The instruction follows verses emphasizing gratitude to God (31:12–14) and moderation in behavior (31:17–19). The contrast is intentional: the righteous show humility and balance; the wicked turn their gifts—whether wisdom, wealth, or khayl—into grounds for self-display.
The verse thus redefines ḥayil / khayl, the visible sign of human capacity, as something that must remain under divine discipline. Prideful bearing—turning one’s face away or walking in arrogance—represents the same behavior denounced in Deuteronomy 8:17, “My power and the strength of my hand made me this wealth,” and corrected in Zechariah 4:6, “Not by might [בְּחַיִל (beḥayil)] nor by power [בְּכֹחַ (bekoḥ)], but by my Spirit.”
In Luqmān, as in the Hebrew prophets and Proverbs, strength (ḥayil / khayl) is legitimate only when expressed through humility, gratitude, and obedience. What the proud call power, Scripture calls illusion; what the obedient call submission, God calls strength.
In Luke 8:46, Jesus says, “Someone did touch me, for I perceived that power [δύναμις, dynamis] had gone out of me.” The verse centers on reference point and divine agency: who acts, who commands, and who perceives.
Here, dynamis is not stored energy or personal force but power proceeding from the Father’s command. Jesus’ recognition—“I perceived”—echoes yadaʿ (י־ד־ע / yod–dalet–ʿayin), the biblical pattern of knowing as encounter with divine agency. He does not generate the power; He discerns that God’s will has gone forth. The woman’s faith does not manipulate divine strength; it responds rightly to it. In this way, the gift of healing reveals God’s agency as the sole reference point: human trust functions as submission and thus acknowledgment, not cause.
This reorientation aligns with the wisdom and prophetic path of ḥayil. In Proverbs, the ʾeshet ḥayil symbolizes strength only through obedience under divine order. In Zechariah 4:6, “Not by might [בְּחַיִל (beḥayil)] nor by power [בְּכֹחַ (bekoḥ)], but by my Spirit [בְּרוּחִי (beruḥi)],” Yahweh redefines agency: all real action comes from his Spirit. The Qurʾan (31:18) follows this theme: khayl, as displays of human power, is condemned as arrogance that forgets God as the only actor. In Luke 8:46, the biblical paths of knowledge and power combine to challenge the schemes of human ambition and control.
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