Righteousness is a complex yet central idea in the Old Testament. Keep in mind that the Old Testament texts must not be read through the eyes of the Reformation controversies about “righteousness” and “justification” or even through Paul’s letters to the Romans and Galatians. The Old Testament writers were not aware of the problems of the New Testament church, whether in the first or sixteenth century. I do fear that since the Reformation, we Christians have fixated so ardently on the debate between righteousness by faith and righteousness by works that we may have overlooked a profound truth about righteousness itself. Reducing righteousness to a rigid set of legalistic standards or a simplistic slogan (about “Christ’s imputed righteousness”), we risk stifling the potential for deeper growth in righteousness as a virtuous way of being.
Righteousness (ṣedeq, ṣĕdāqâ, ṣaddı̂q) lies at the heart of the Hebrew Bible. The richness of the word can be seen in the various ways it is translated into English. For example, the Revised Standard Version renders ṣedeq, ṣĕdāqâ/ṣaddı̂qby a variety of words: acquittal, deliverance, honest evidence (Prov 12:17), integrity (Job 31:6), judgment, justice, prosperity, right, righteousness (most common), righteous deeds, righteous help, salvation, saving help, victory, vindication. The Jerusalem Bible, particularly in Isaiah 40–66 and the Psalms, often opts for the translation “integrity.” These diverse renderings highlight the nuanced depths contained within the Hebrew word.
God himself is often depicted as “righteous.” This portrayal speaks to his essential nature of justice, fairness, goodness, integrity, and unwavering faithfulness that forms the bedrock of his relationship with his people. It serves as the cornerstone of his bond with his chosen ones and sets the standard against which all human conduct is measured. Righteousness encompasses God’s intentions for both creation and the community in which he dwells. It is through righteousness that God brings forth order and prosperity in creation, fulfilling his purpose and demonstrating his redemptive will. The understanding that righteousness encompasses God’s intentions for both creation and the community in which he dwells invites us to explore the profound connections between religion, spirituality, and ecological stewardship. It deepens our comprehension of humanity’s role in caring for and harmoniously dwelling within creation. This truth resonates in the jubilant celebration of wisdom in Proverbs 8:22–31, as she rejoices in God’s handiwork.
Righteousness is also used to describe human conduct aligned with God’s will. However, the Old Testament resolutely reminds us that righteousness is not mere adherence to rules; it is a matter of the heart. Righteousness is meant to govern not only our actions but also our attitudes. To embody righteousness in action and attitude is to live in harmony with God’s character and commands. It entails a moral existence imbued with integrity, honesty, and humility, coupled with the just and merciful treatment of others.
In other words, righteousness is about relationships more than it is about rules. It encompasses the pursuit of right order in creation and the cultivation of right relationships within the community where God dwells. Restoring and cultivating relationships that cause human flourishing is the aim of righteousness. However, a mistaken understanding of righteousness can lead to elevating external behavior over God’s redemptive purpose. This can lead to a legalistic approach to religion, where people focus on following a set of rules rather than on restoring relationships. Let me illustrate with a story from the life of Jesus and the woman caught in adultery (John 8:1–11).
Imagine yourself as one of the men who stood ready to stone this woman for her sin. You stand there ready to do your duty, to obey the law of God to its fullest. The adulteress must be stoned (Lev 20:10–12). This woman violated God’s holy law. To you, she also violated the community, the man (who is strangely absent), and herself. How, you might reason, can society survive if she goes unpunished? We must uphold the standard of our God, our nation, and our people. Her actions were an affront to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. This assault could not stand. It was evil. You stand there ready, a stone in hand.
You do not know her name. It does not matter. You know her crime. You know her sin. She was caught in the very act of adultery. She is to you a nameless, immoral woman. An adulteress, a seducer of men. Those who go near her tread the very gates of hell. What has happened to our world? You wonder to yourself. Our morals are in decay. This must be stopped here and now. You are not alone in your judgment. Others stand with you, ready and united, each with a stone in hand. Your stones would bury this assault on your values. Your stones would crush this nameless woman.
It was easier to do this as a crowd. You would all participate, but none of you would bear the guilt of knowing whose stone struck the mortal blow. It was better this way—a nameless seductress dispatched by a faceless crowd. You were only doing your duty to protect the honor of God.
Then this man steps in the way. He stands between your justice and the condemned woman. He kneels. At first, you think he is reaching for a stone to join you. But he did not pick up a stone. Instead, he wrote something in the dirt. We do not know what he wrote, but you can tell us what he said, for it destroyed something in you. You had been zealous from your youth to please God, to do what is right, and to live according to his Law. You wanted nothing to do with compromise.
By outward appearance, you were very successful in this pursuit. But, in the dark silent places of your heart, you knew better. Age has a way of revealing human frailties that youth so easily hides. Not the frailties of an aging body; you are not vain enough to care about grey, thinning hair. No, it is a much deeper frailty. More than your body aches, your soul aches. In spite of all your efforts, the painful broken places remain covered over but not hidden. They are there. You know it. And he knows it.
He spoke, and his voice was like that of many waters. Water for cleansing, water for healing, water for renewing. Water was again flowing from the rock. His words shake you to your core, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” Every darkness in you flashed through your mind on full ignoble display. You are undone. You surrender. You cannot cast a stone at her without unleashing a thousand condemnations upon your own head. You are the guilty one. He knelt again and began to write. As he did, the stone fell from your hand, and you fell upon the rock. The woman was set free from her condemnation, and so were you. That is what righteousness does. It restores people to life.
When my relationships with others are broken because I allow unrighteousness to fester in my life, I am breaking myself off from the very presence that holds the power to heal and restore me. Righteousness as right relationships, as well as right behavior, aligns us in the divine order, forging a path of restoration before God and our fellow human beings. It is righteousness, the embodiment of our actions toward others, that establishes well-being within the community and forms the bedrock of an ethical community built upon mutual love and responsibility. When we are righteous, we treat others with honor, compassion, and justice. We build up others instead of tearing them down. We create a sense of community and belonging. We make the world a better place. We create a more just, equitable, and peaceful society. We help to build a world where everyone can thrive. This clarion call to righteousness resonates through the Law and the Prophets, and continues through to the New Testament, transcending time and summoning us to a steadfast commitment to walk the path of righteousness in all relationships.
This is from my new book, Following Wisdom, Leading Wisely: Proverbs as Ancient Wisdom for Today’s Leader. Available on Amazon or wherever you get your books.
Debbie and I serve as the FMI Global Associate Director for MENACA and Europe. We focus on cultivating disciples, leaders, and church planting movements.
