Born Again

Great are Your mercies, Lord; revive me according to Your judgments.  Psalm 119:156  NASB

Mercies – The first thing you need to know about God is His compassion.  The second thing you need to know is that you can’t completely understand His compassion unless you’re a mother.  Why?  Because the Hebrew term raḥămîm isn’t just about “a deep love rooted in some natural bond,” it epitomizes the love of a mother for her unborn child.  It’s about the most basic kind of bond—the bond of totally dependent living.  Yes, the word has broader application (see below) but its clearest occurrence is the connection between rāḥam (to love deeply) and reḥem (the womb).

In the Piel it is used for the deep inward feeling we know variously as compassion, pity, mercy.[1]

rāḥam is used infrequently (twelve of forty-seven times) of men. It is used only once in the Qal when the Psalmist confesses his love for Jehovah (18:1 [H 2]). The depth of this love is shown by the connection of this word with reḥem/raḥam. Compare, Isaiah (49:15) who uses it of a mother’s love toward her nursing baby. It can also refer to a father’s love (Ps 103:13). Apparently, this verb connotes the feeling of mercy which men have for each other by virtue of the fact that they are human beings (Jer 50:42) and which is most easily prompted by small babies (Isa 13:18) or other helpless people.[2]

There are several ideas attached to God’s deep, tender love: first, the unconditional election of God (Ex 33:19); next, his mercy and forgiveness toward his people in the face of deserved judgment and upon the condition of their repentance (Deut 13:17 [H 18]); also, God’s continuing mercy and grace in preserving his unrepentant people from judgment (II Kgs 13:23). Thus this attribute becomes the basis in part of an eschatological hope (cf. Isa 14:1; 49:13; 54:7; Jer 12:15; 33:26; Ezk 34:25; Mic 7:19; Zech 1:16).[3]

When the psalmist writes răḥămê  rabbim, he certainly must have this connection in mind.  We might jump ahead a few thousand years and suggest that he’s asking for a second birth.  He clearly wants God to grant him life (ḥāyâ), but not simply birth.  He wants life on the basis of God’s “judgments,” God’s mišpāṭ, the governance of creation.   He’s not interested in just existing (as if that were possible without the sustaining power of God).  He’s interested in his life within the governance of God.  God’s compassion is great because of this intimate bond, Creator and created, and just like a mother, God wants His children to experience the fullness of living.

What would it mean for you and me to live as if we were God’s unborn children?  Could you rethink your life within the category of complete dependence?  Could you imagine yourself as Paul describes us, “to live and move and have our being” in Him?  “Born again” isn’t a 19th Century evangelical concept.  It’s found right here, in the connection between mercy and the womb.  Maybe Nicodemus wasn’t too far off when he asked, “How can someone be born when they are old?”   If you’re reading this, it’s your question too.

Topical Index: raḥămîm, rāḥam, reḥem, mercy, compassion, womb, born, Psalm 119:156

[1] Coppes, L. J. (1999). 2146 רָחַם. In R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament(electronic ed., p. 841). Moody Press.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

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Richard Bridgan

Such a beautifully wondrous analogous understanding… “life within the governance of God” and “the depth of this love shown by the connection of this word with reḥem/raḥam”— the tender mercies of God for/to his unborn children that they might be “born again… from above”.