Q&A with Dr. Dinah Dye
Author of “The Greatest Exodus”
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Q: You argue that the Exodus is the theological backbone of the entire Bible. What do you mean by that?
A: When I say the Exodus is the theological backbone of the Bible, I mean it is the salvation template. Scripture uses the Exodus to reveal how God saves His people from the strong arm of oppression. To bring His people out of Egypt, Yahweh confronts empire and breaks its power. He then brings His people through the waters and binds them to Himself in covenant. This is the same pattern that unfolds with Babylon and Rome: oppression, divine confrontation, deliverance, and renewed covenant. This salvation pattern forms the framework of redemption throughout Israel’s history. God intervenes to liberate His people from foreign powers and reassert His reign repeatedly. Exodus is the story beneath the story: the enduring pattern of how God delivers, redeems, and ultimately reigns. |
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Q: How does seeing the Bible through the lens of Exodus change the way we read the Gospels?
A: Seeing the Bible through the lens of Exodus provides the context needed to rightly read the Gospels. The Gospel writers are announcing the fulfillment of Israel’s defining story: a nation shaped by the memory of liberation yet still dwelling in the shadow of exile, anticipating the decisive act of God that would restore His kingdom. Without the Exodus framework, Jesus can seem detached from the Old Testament. But in the Gospels, He is portrayed not only as a new Moses but as Israel itself, walking out the people’s story in His own life. He passes through the waters, enters the wilderness, ascends the mountain, and forms a covenant community. These are deliberate echoes. When we read the Gospels with Exodus in view, we see context and continuity: the Old and New Testaments as one unfolding story of redemption.
Q: How does understanding the Jewish roots of the faith deepen a Christian’s appreciation for the Cross and Resurrection?
A: Exploring the Jewish roots of our faith restores the original meaning of the text and therefore deepens our understanding of the Cross and Resurrection. In the mind of the ancients, heaven and earth were unified and restored when kings were enthroned. When Jesus is lifted up on a wooden cross, He is not merely suffering public execution; He is being publicly enthroned as Israel’s King. Suspended on the tree, He becomes the meeting point of heaven and earth: the anointed Son who bears the curse, confronts the powers, and reclaims what belongs to Yahweh. The Cross exposes the greatest enemy of all, sin and death. The Resurrection then cements the victory. It is a public triumph over the ultimate oppressor. The one crucified as King truly reigns. For Israel and for the nations, the Cross and Resurrection announce freedom in Him and the beginning of a restored creation.
A: Seeing the Bible through the lens of Exodus provides the context needed to rightly read the Gospels. The Gospel writers are announcing the fulfillment of Israel’s defining story: a nation shaped by the memory of liberation yet still dwelling in the shadow of exile, anticipating the decisive act of God that would restore His kingdom. Without the Exodus framework, Jesus can seem detached from the Old Testament. But in the Gospels, He is portrayed not only as a new Moses but as Israel itself, walking out the people’s story in His own life. He passes through the waters, enters the wilderness, ascends the mountain, and forms a covenant community. These are deliberate echoes. When we read the Gospels with Exodus in view, we see context and continuity: the Old and New Testaments as one unfolding story of redemption.
Q: How does understanding the Jewish roots of the faith deepen a Christian’s appreciation for the Cross and Resurrection?
A: Exploring the Jewish roots of our faith restores the original meaning of the text and therefore deepens our understanding of the Cross and Resurrection. In the mind of the ancients, heaven and earth were unified and restored when kings were enthroned. When Jesus is lifted up on a wooden cross, He is not merely suffering public execution; He is being publicly enthroned as Israel’s King. Suspended on the tree, He becomes the meeting point of heaven and earth: the anointed Son who bears the curse, confronts the powers, and reclaims what belongs to Yahweh. The Cross exposes the greatest enemy of all, sin and death. The Resurrection then cements the victory. It is a public triumph over the ultimate oppressor. The one crucified as King truly reigns. For Israel and for the nations, the Cross and Resurrection announce freedom in Him and the beginning of a restored creation.
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Q: You describe God as the “Divine Warrior.” What does that term mean, and why is it important?
A: When I describe God as the “Divine Warrior,” I am drawing on a central biblical theme that also appears throughout the ancient world. Every major culture had a warrior storm god, a deity who battled chaos, subdued the sea, and established order through force. These gods secured stability through violent upheaval. Scripture takes that imagery and reshapes it. Though Yahweh confronts chaos, rebukes the sea, and topples oppressive powers, He is not driven by bloodshed. He is the Divine Warrior Creator who establishes order through His Spirit and His Word. At the Exodus, Yahweh defeats Pharaoh and shatters Egypt’s gods, but His purpose is liberation and covenant. He divides the waters, leads His people through, and dwells among them. His warfare restores creation and establishes relationship with His people. In the New Testament, this pattern reaches its fulfillment in Jesus, who defeats the enemy—not through imperial violence — but through self-giving sacrifice. |
Q: You talk extensively about chaos versus order. What does “chaos” represent in Scripture?
A: Chaos is a major theme that saturates Scripture. It was well understood in the ancient world, though it is less familiar to us. Chaos represents forces that oppose God’s creational intent—powers that seek to de-create, destabilize, and dehumanize. Genesis opens with a world described as formless and empty, in a state of instability, with darkness over the deep. Then God speaks, and order emerges. For the ancients, the sea was the primary symbol of chaos, unstable and uncontrollable. Over time, that imagery expands so that raging waters represent hostile armies and nations. The prophets describe kingdoms as surging seas. Chaos also appears in barrenness, where the absence of seed and heir threatens covenant continuity. The wilderness is marked by famine, wild beasts, and vulnerability. Exile fractures identity, culture, language, temple, and monarchy. The destruction of the temple and the loss of God’s presence signal a return to darkness and disorder. Demonic activity in the New Testament continues the pattern of life fragmented and human nature distorted. Throughout Scripture, chaos takes on many forms, but its goal is the same: to unravel what God has ordered. Yahweh acts again and again to restrain the waters, defeat oppressive powers, restore fruitfulness, rebuild sacred space, and reestablish covenant identity.
Q: When Jesus calms the storm or walks on water, what would that have communicated to His Jewish audience?
A: A Jewish audience would likely have seen the calming of the storm as connected to creational order, divine kingship, and sovereignty. Let us not forget that they were waiting for a Messiah to rescue them. The miracles that exercise power over storms and water would have been evocative of Israel’s history. It would have been apparent to them that only Yahweh rebukes the waters, stills the storm, and sets boundaries for the sea. Authority over the waters was synonymous with authority over the world of chaos. Ancient Near Eastern cultures associated raging rivers and seas with judgment. When the Gospels describe a sudden storm on the Sea of Galilee, especially in a region associated with the Gentiles, first-century hearers would see chaos approaching. Jesus’ rebuke of the wind and waves confirmed His divine authority. When He walks upon the waters, He treads over the realm of chaos and death. The disciples’ question, “Who then is this, that even the wind and sea obey Him?” is a kingship question. Jesus is not taking a stroll across the lake; He is being revealed as the Divine King who will rule the nations.
Q: Why did Jesus have to defeat death specifically at Passover?
A: Passover is unique in that it is not only the first feast, but the feast with a narrative. The story of Passover is epic and memorable, and as such, it is the only festival that speaks of deliverance from death in such a clear way. At Passover, Israel rehearses the night when Yahweh confronted Egypt, judged its gods, and shielded His people through the blood of the lamb. The Passover lamb functioned as a covenantal meal, a fellowship offering, that bound two parties together. Its blood was placed on the doorposts to protect those inside from the destroyer. By choosing Passover, Jesus identifies with its central elements, most importantly the Lamb. He also takes the matzah (unleavened flatbread) and the wine, elements that symbolically frame the Exodus narrative, and centers them on His own body and blood. These ritual acts provide covenantal protection, just as the original blood and meal of the first Passover did. Interestingly, burial imagery is also embedded within later Passover traditions, with the breaking and hiding of the middle matzah evoking Jesus’ burial and resurrection. Jesus passes through death and is raised up to bring forth a renewed people. He becomes Israel in the Exodus story. Through His death and resurrection, He leads people into lasting freedom.
A: Chaos is a major theme that saturates Scripture. It was well understood in the ancient world, though it is less familiar to us. Chaos represents forces that oppose God’s creational intent—powers that seek to de-create, destabilize, and dehumanize. Genesis opens with a world described as formless and empty, in a state of instability, with darkness over the deep. Then God speaks, and order emerges. For the ancients, the sea was the primary symbol of chaos, unstable and uncontrollable. Over time, that imagery expands so that raging waters represent hostile armies and nations. The prophets describe kingdoms as surging seas. Chaos also appears in barrenness, where the absence of seed and heir threatens covenant continuity. The wilderness is marked by famine, wild beasts, and vulnerability. Exile fractures identity, culture, language, temple, and monarchy. The destruction of the temple and the loss of God’s presence signal a return to darkness and disorder. Demonic activity in the New Testament continues the pattern of life fragmented and human nature distorted. Throughout Scripture, chaos takes on many forms, but its goal is the same: to unravel what God has ordered. Yahweh acts again and again to restrain the waters, defeat oppressive powers, restore fruitfulness, rebuild sacred space, and reestablish covenant identity.
Q: When Jesus calms the storm or walks on water, what would that have communicated to His Jewish audience?
A: A Jewish audience would likely have seen the calming of the storm as connected to creational order, divine kingship, and sovereignty. Let us not forget that they were waiting for a Messiah to rescue them. The miracles that exercise power over storms and water would have been evocative of Israel’s history. It would have been apparent to them that only Yahweh rebukes the waters, stills the storm, and sets boundaries for the sea. Authority over the waters was synonymous with authority over the world of chaos. Ancient Near Eastern cultures associated raging rivers and seas with judgment. When the Gospels describe a sudden storm on the Sea of Galilee, especially in a region associated with the Gentiles, first-century hearers would see chaos approaching. Jesus’ rebuke of the wind and waves confirmed His divine authority. When He walks upon the waters, He treads over the realm of chaos and death. The disciples’ question, “Who then is this, that even the wind and sea obey Him?” is a kingship question. Jesus is not taking a stroll across the lake; He is being revealed as the Divine King who will rule the nations.
Q: Why did Jesus have to defeat death specifically at Passover?
A: Passover is unique in that it is not only the first feast, but the feast with a narrative. The story of Passover is epic and memorable, and as such, it is the only festival that speaks of deliverance from death in such a clear way. At Passover, Israel rehearses the night when Yahweh confronted Egypt, judged its gods, and shielded His people through the blood of the lamb. The Passover lamb functioned as a covenantal meal, a fellowship offering, that bound two parties together. Its blood was placed on the doorposts to protect those inside from the destroyer. By choosing Passover, Jesus identifies with its central elements, most importantly the Lamb. He also takes the matzah (unleavened flatbread) and the wine, elements that symbolically frame the Exodus narrative, and centers them on His own body and blood. These ritual acts provide covenantal protection, just as the original blood and meal of the first Passover did. Interestingly, burial imagery is also embedded within later Passover traditions, with the breaking and hiding of the middle matzah evoking Jesus’ burial and resurrection. Jesus passes through death and is raised up to bring forth a renewed people. He becomes Israel in the Exodus story. Through His death and resurrection, He leads people into lasting freedom.
Q: How does the Resurrection complete the Exodus pattern?
A:. The Exodus was an intentional act of defeating death and establishing new creation. At the first Passover, Israel was spared from the destroyer. They were carried safely through the waters by Yahweh, emerging as a redeemed nation on their way to covenant life at Sinai. Of course, death itself was not eliminated. It still ruled the human story. While the Exodus broke the grip of Pharaoh, it did not break the grip of the grave. In the Gospels, Jesus walks out Israel’s story. He becomes the Passover Lamb, confronts the powers, and enters the realm of death itself. If the Cross is the confrontation, the Resurrection is the final victory. Just as Israel emerged from the sea as a liberated nation, so Jesus emerges from the tomb as the firstborn of a new creation. In rising from the dead, Jesus does not merely resume life; He launches the final Exodus, leading His people not just out of bondage but into restored creation under His reign.
Q: You describe creation as God’s cosmic temple. How does that theme run from Genesis to Revelation?
A: Many scholars today describe creation as God’s cosmic temple. In Genesis 1, the world is ordered in seven movements, culminating not simply in the creation of humanity but in divine rest. In the ancient world, when a temple was completed and ordered, the deity was said to “rest” there. Rest did not mean inactivity; it meant taking up residence and beginning to rule from that space. In this way, creation itself is presented as sacred space, a dwelling place where heaven and earth are joined and ordered for God’s presence. Humanity is placed within that space as His image-bearers, reflecting His authority and serving in a priestly vocation to cultivate and guard what God has made. That temple pattern continues throughout Scripture. Eden reflects sanctuary imagery—with its tree of life, cherubim, and guarded entrance—features later associated with Israel’s worship space. The Tabernacle and later the Temple are intentionally designed as microcosms of creation, decorated with garden imagery and structured to reflect heaven and earth brought together in one sacred place. In the Gospels, Jesus identifies Himself as the true Temple, the place where the presence of God dwells and where humanity can approach Him. After His resurrection, the Church is described as a living temple, a Spirit-filled dwelling in which God’s presence expands outward into the world. Revelation brings the theme to completion. The final vision is not merely a city but a city-temple where heaven and earth are fully united and God dwells openly with His people. The cosmic temple that began in Genesis is restored and filled with glory.
Q: How does understanding temple imagery change how we read the New Testament?
A: Understanding Temple imagery changes how we read the New Testament because it restores the central goal of the biblical story, that God will dwell with His people. Redemption is not merely forgiveness; it is the restoration of divine presence. From Eden onward, the main crisis was the rupture of sacred space. The Tabernacle and Temple were provisional meeting points where heaven and earth overlapped, anticipating something greater. In the New Testament, that hope is fulfilled in Jesus. He identifies His body as the Temple, cleanses the sanctuary, and speaks of its destruction and rebuilds it in three days. In Him, the glory returns, not to stone and cedar, but to flesh and blood. Through His death and resurrection, access to God’s presence is restored. The imagery then expands outward: believers are described as living stones, a spiritual house, a temple of the Holy Spirit. The presence once centered in Jerusalem now moves outward through a people. Temple language reframes the New Testament as the reunification of heaven and earth in Christ, culminating in Revelation when God’s dwelling fills all creation once again.
A:. The Exodus was an intentional act of defeating death and establishing new creation. At the first Passover, Israel was spared from the destroyer. They were carried safely through the waters by Yahweh, emerging as a redeemed nation on their way to covenant life at Sinai. Of course, death itself was not eliminated. It still ruled the human story. While the Exodus broke the grip of Pharaoh, it did not break the grip of the grave. In the Gospels, Jesus walks out Israel’s story. He becomes the Passover Lamb, confronts the powers, and enters the realm of death itself. If the Cross is the confrontation, the Resurrection is the final victory. Just as Israel emerged from the sea as a liberated nation, so Jesus emerges from the tomb as the firstborn of a new creation. In rising from the dead, Jesus does not merely resume life; He launches the final Exodus, leading His people not just out of bondage but into restored creation under His reign.
Q: You describe creation as God’s cosmic temple. How does that theme run from Genesis to Revelation?
A: Many scholars today describe creation as God’s cosmic temple. In Genesis 1, the world is ordered in seven movements, culminating not simply in the creation of humanity but in divine rest. In the ancient world, when a temple was completed and ordered, the deity was said to “rest” there. Rest did not mean inactivity; it meant taking up residence and beginning to rule from that space. In this way, creation itself is presented as sacred space, a dwelling place where heaven and earth are joined and ordered for God’s presence. Humanity is placed within that space as His image-bearers, reflecting His authority and serving in a priestly vocation to cultivate and guard what God has made. That temple pattern continues throughout Scripture. Eden reflects sanctuary imagery—with its tree of life, cherubim, and guarded entrance—features later associated with Israel’s worship space. The Tabernacle and later the Temple are intentionally designed as microcosms of creation, decorated with garden imagery and structured to reflect heaven and earth brought together in one sacred place. In the Gospels, Jesus identifies Himself as the true Temple, the place where the presence of God dwells and where humanity can approach Him. After His resurrection, the Church is described as a living temple, a Spirit-filled dwelling in which God’s presence expands outward into the world. Revelation brings the theme to completion. The final vision is not merely a city but a city-temple where heaven and earth are fully united and God dwells openly with His people. The cosmic temple that began in Genesis is restored and filled with glory.
Q: How does understanding temple imagery change how we read the New Testament?
A: Understanding Temple imagery changes how we read the New Testament because it restores the central goal of the biblical story, that God will dwell with His people. Redemption is not merely forgiveness; it is the restoration of divine presence. From Eden onward, the main crisis was the rupture of sacred space. The Tabernacle and Temple were provisional meeting points where heaven and earth overlapped, anticipating something greater. In the New Testament, that hope is fulfilled in Jesus. He identifies His body as the Temple, cleanses the sanctuary, and speaks of its destruction and rebuilds it in three days. In Him, the glory returns, not to stone and cedar, but to flesh and blood. Through His death and resurrection, access to God’s presence is restored. The imagery then expands outward: believers are described as living stones, a spiritual house, a temple of the Holy Spirit. The presence once centered in Jerusalem now moves outward through a people. Temple language reframes the New Testament as the reunification of heaven and earth in Christ, culminating in Revelation when God’s dwelling fills all creation once again.
About Dr. Dinah Dye
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Dr. Dinah Dye was raised in a vibrant Jewish community in Ottawa, Canada. For over 45 years, Dr. Dye studied the Bible through its original lens, leading her to Yeshua (Jesus). With degrees in education, business, and a Doctorate in Hebraic Studies in Christianity, Dr. Dye has served in leadership roles with the Assemblies of God and Foursquare International, including as director of Foursquare’s Bible Institute. With her combined academic knowledge and practical ministry experience, Dr. Dye has taught and mentored believers across the globe. Her ministry, Foundations in Torah, is a resource hub for biblical study grounded in the Hebraic worldview. Dr. Dye and her husband Michael live outside Albuquerque, New Mexico, where they enjoy time with their grandchildren. For more information visit: https://dinahdye.com.
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