Bible Verses about Identity

“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.”

If the previous verse announced the intention to create the human being, this one confirms the act. The creation in the image of God is declared twice in a single verse, which in Hebrew literature indicates special emphasis. Furthermore, the text adds that both male and female were created in this image — a detail that was revolutionary in the ancient world, since many cultures considered women to be of lesser value or dignity. The fundamental equality between man and woman before God is established from the very first chapter of the Bible. Both share the same dignity, the same divine origin, and the same vocation to reflect God on earth. For the believer, this means that relationships between persons must be marked by mutual respect. The image of God in the other is sufficient reason to love and honor them, regardless of differences in gender, origin, or condition.

“And Moses and Aaron came in unto Pharaoh, and said unto him, Thus saith the LORD God of the Hebrews, How long wilt thou refuse to humble thyself before me? let my people go, that they may serve me.”

The question Moses and Aaron put to Pharaoh on God's behalf — how long will you refuse to humble yourself before me? — is one of the most direct in all of Scripture. It is not a threat; it is an invitation to recognize reality. God has been demonstrating His power plague after plague, and Pharaoh continues to resist. The question points out that the problem is not lack of evidence but lack of willingness to relinquish control. Pharaoh's pride is the biblical portrait of what happens when a human being prefers his own authority to God's. Each refusal was also an opportunity to humble himself that Pharaoh squandered. For the believer, this verse is a warning: hardness of heart does not appear suddenly; it is built with each small decision not to yield to God. The humility God asks for is not weakness; it is the recognition that He is God and we are not.

“And Moses and Aaron went into the tabernacle of the congregation, and came out, and blessed the people: and the glory of the LORD appeared unto all the people.”

When Moses and Aaron came out of the tent of meeting and blessed the people, the glory of God appeared to all the congregation. And fire came out from before the LORD and consumed the burnt offering. The people, when they saw it, shouted for joy and fell on their faces. This was the first complete service in the tabernacle, and it ended not with Aaron's evaluation but with the manifestation of God Himself. The priestly blessing was confirmed by divine presence. This scene of worship — blessing pronounced, glory manifested, people falling prostrate — is the pattern of all genuine worship. There is no true worship that does not end in the recognition of God's presence. For the believer, the goal of collective worship is not to produce a certain emotional experience, but to create the space where God can manifest Himself and where the natural response is reverence. The glory of God that appeared that day is still the goal of every encounter with Him.

“And I will walk among you, and will be your God, and ye shall be my people.”

I will walk among you and will be your God, and you shall be my people is the most complete covenant promise in all of the Old Testament. Not only dwelling in the midst, but fellowship in movement: God will walk among them. And the bilateral formula — I your God, you my people — defines the essence of the entire biblical relationship between God and His own. It is not a relationship of distance and fear; it is a relationship of mutual belonging and active fellowship. Paul cites this verse in 2 Corinthians when he describes believers as the temple of the living God. The promise that Leviticus described for Israel as a nation is now fulfilled in each believer individually and in the community of faith collectively. For the believer, being the people of God is not a religious affiliation; it is the deepest possible relationship: being possessed by God and possessing Him as the most precious good.

“For what nation is there so great, who hath God so nigh unto them, as the LORD our God is in all things that we call upon him for?”

Moses asks a rhetorical question that defines the uniqueness of Israel's relationship with God: what great nation has gods so near to them as the LORD our God is to us? God's nearness is not only a religious advantage; it is the clearest sign of His difference from all other gods. The gods of the nations were distant, unpredictable, required appeasement. The God of Israel was near and responded when His people cried out. This nearness of God is one of the most profound promises in all of Scripture, and finds its fullest fulfillment in the incarnation of Christ — Emmanuel, God with us — and in the dwelling of the Spirit in every believer. For the believer, faith is not a relationship with a distant and abstract divinity; it is communion with a God who has decided to be near. That nearness is the greatest privilege of those who are His.

“For thou art an holy people unto the LORD thy God: the LORD thy God hath chosen thee to be a special people unto himself, above all people that are upon the face of the earth.”

The declaration that Israel is a holy people to the LORD, chosen to be a special people above all the peoples of the earth, is one of the strongest about election in all of the Old Testament. What makes the verse remarkable is the reason it gives — or more precisely, the reason it does not give. God does not choose Israel because it is the greatest or most numerous; in the next verse He will say explicitly that it was the smallest. The election rests on God's love and faithfulness, not on Israel's merits. The New Testament applies this language to the Church: we are a purchased people, a chosen lineage, a holy nation. God's election in Christ also does not rest on human merits; it rests on grace. For the believer, recognizing that one is chosen by love and not by merit does not produce arrogance but gratitude. And gratitude for being chosen produces the motivation to live in a manner consistent with that identity.

“for thou art an holy people unto the LORD thy God, and the LORD hath chosen thee to be a peculiar people unto himself, above all the nations that are upon the earth.”

The declaration that Israel is a holy people to the LORD and His special people among all the peoples of the earth repeats the central principle of their election: they owe it not to their own virtues but to God's choice. To be a special people — segullah, a personal treasure — implies both privilege and responsibility. The one chosen as God's treasure must live in a manner consistent with that identity of belonging. The New Testament uses exactly this same vocabulary for the Church, citing passages like this one. For the believer, the identity of being God's special people is not a reason for arrogance before others, but for responsibility in the way of living. God's people must reflect the character of the God to whom they belong. To be His treasure is both the greatest honor and the greatest calling.

“But the word is very nigh unto thee, in thy mouth, and in thy heart, that thou mayest do it.”

But the word is very near you. It is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it is one of the most accessible declarations about the Word of God in all of the Pentateuch. The Word is not in heaven for someone to ascend and fetch, nor on the other side of the sea for someone to cross and bring it back. It is near: in the mouth as confession and in the heart as conviction. Its nearness makes both understanding and obedience possible. Paul will use this verse to speak of the proximity of the gospel: there is no need to do anything extraordinary to access God's grace. For the believer, this nearness of the Word is one of the most precious gifts of grace: God did not place His truth in a location requiring extraordinary effort to reach. The accessibility of Scripture — in the heart, in the mouth, available to be lived today — is itself an expression of God's generosity.

“That all the people of the earth might know the hand of the LORD, that it is mighty: that ye might fear the LORD your God for ever.”

The purpose of the twelve stones of the Jordan memorial — so that all the peoples of the earth may know that the hand of the LORD is mighty — signals that God's acts in the history of His people always have a dimension of testimony for the nations. The miracle was not only for the benefit of Israel; it was so that the world would know who the God of Israel is. The history of salvation always has a horizon broader than the immediate group of beneficiaries. The second purpose — so that you may fear the LORD your God forever — connects external testimony with internal formation. The same acts of God that speak to the nations also form His people. For the believer, the acts of God in one's own life have dual value: they produce inner faith and create outward testimony. The story of what God does in a life is always potentially the story that God can use to reach others.

“So the people shouted when the priests blew with the trumpets: and it came to pass, when the people heard the sound of the trumpet, and the people shouted with a great shout, that the wall fell down flat, so that the people went up into the city, every man straight before him, and they took the city.”

The fall of the walls of Jericho — after seven days of silent marching, trumpets, and a final shout — is one of the most singular miracles in Israel's history. The military strategy God ordered had no military logic; it had the logic of faith. Israel had to act for seven days as if the walls had already fallen, following an instruction that by itself produced no visible result until the seventh day. Obedience preceded the miracle. This structure — acting in faith before seeing the result — is the pattern of some of the most decisive moments in the life of faith. For the believer, there are situations where God asks for obedience before giving evidence, action before confirmation. Jericho did not fall before Israel marched; it fell as a consequence of Israel obeying everything God said, until the moment God acted. Sustained obedience creates the space where God acts.

“And Boaz said unto the elders, and unto all the people, Ye are witnesses this day, that I have bought all that was Elimelech’s, and all that was Chilion’s and Mahlon’s, of the hand of Naomi.”

Boaz's public declaration before the elders and the people that he had acquired all that belonged to Elimelech and was becoming the redeemer of Ruth the Moabite was the legal act that transformed two resourceless widows into people with a future, inheritance, and family. The goel — the kinsman-redeemer — was the Old Testament institution that restored what sin, death, or poverty had taken away. Boaz fulfilled that role with a generosity that exceeded what the law required. Boaz as redeemer is one of the clearest types of Christ in all of the Old Testament: the one who has the right and the resources to redeem, and who does so not out of obligation but out of love. For the believer, Christ is the definitive Goel who acquires what we had lost — the relationship with God, the identity as children, the inheritance of the kingdom — paying the price with His own life.

“To morrow about this time I will send thee a man out of the land of Benjamin, and thou shalt anoint him to be captain over my people Israel, that he may save my people out of the hand of the Philistines: for I have looked upon my people, because their cry is come unto me.”

God's word to Samuel the eve of the encounter with Saul — tomorrow about this time I will send to you a man from the land of Benjamin, and you shall anoint him to be prince over my people Israel — shows the precision of God's providence. While Saul was searching for his father's donkeys without knowing anything, God had already chosen him, was directing him toward Samuel, and had given specific instructions about what to do the next day. Saul did not know he was about to change direction; God knew with precision down to the hour. For the believer, this episode reveals that God's providence operates at a level of detail that exceeds all understanding. The encounters that seem coincidental, the paths that turn unexpectedly, the people who appear at the precise moment — all can be the hand of God leading history toward His purposes. Providence is not only the governance of great events; it is the precision of hours and persons in the moments God has chosen.

“For the LORD will not forsake his people for his great name’s sake: because it hath pleased the LORD to make you his people.”

The LORD will not forsake his people, for his great name's sake, because it has pleased the LORD to make you a people for himself is one of the most absolute declarations about God's faithfulness in all of the Bible. The reason God would not abandon Israel was not Israel's virtue; it was God's own reputation. He had chosen to make Israel His people, and abandoning them would have been a contradiction of His own character. Israel's security rested on who God was, not on who they were. For the believer, this verse is one of the pillars of the security of faith: God does not abandon His own because to do so would be a contradiction of His name and character. The permanence of the relationship with God does not rest on the consistency of the believer but on the consistency of God Himself. He who promised is faithful, and that faithfulness is not conditioned by the failures of the people but anchored in the immutable character of the one who chose.

“And Elijah came unto all the people, and said, How long halt ye between two opinions? if the LORD be God, follow him: but if Baal, then follow him. And the people answered him not a word.”

On Mount Carmel, Elijah challenged the people with the most direct question of his ministry: how long will you go limping between two different opinions? If the LORD is God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him. What the people were doing was not choosing Baal over the LORD; they were trying to have both, limping between two options without committing to either. Elijah named that state precisely: it was not direct apostasy but the indecision that pretends to have both. For the believer, Elijah's question on Carmel continues to be one of the most incisive in Scripture because it describes a temptation that is more common than open apostasy: that of practical syncretism, of trying to maintain the benefits of faith in God while also serving the gods of the surrounding culture. Jesus expressed it another way: no one can serve God and money. Elijah's question demands a response that does not accept indefiniteness.

“And when all the people saw it, they fell on their faces: and they said, The LORD, he is the God; the LORD, he is the God.”

When the fire of the LORD consumed the burnt offering, the wood, the stones, the dust, and the water, the people responded with the most spontaneous and complete confession of their apostasy: the LORD, he is God; the LORD, he is God. Hours before they were limping between two opinions; now they fell on their faces with the most absolute certainty. God's visibly demonstrated power produced an immediate collective conversion. Elijah's question — if the LORD is God, follow him? — was answered by the fire before the people could answer in words. For the believer, Carmel teaches that there are moments in history when God acts so visibly that the faith response requires no theological elaboration. The people's confession is theologically the simplest possible: the LORD, he is God. But that simplicity carries the weight of direct experience behind it. The faith that is born from seeing God act is the one that can begin a genuine return from the deepest apostasy.

“I know also, my God, that thou triest the heart, and hast pleasure in uprightness. As for me, in the uprightness of mine heart I have willingly offered all these things: and now have I seen with joy thy people, which are present here, to offer willingly unto thee.”

For the believer, the motivation of generosity is as important as its amount. The God who tests the heart sees whether the offering comes from compulsion, habit, calculation, or willing uprightness. David knew that God would see what no one else could see: the inner disposition that accompanied the outer action. The joy David experienced in seeing the voluntary generosity of the people reveals that the offering that pleases God also produces joy in the one who gives it.

“O LORD God of Abraham, Isaac, and of Israel, our fathers, keep this for ever in the imagination of the thoughts of the heart of thy people, and prepare their heart unto thee:”

For the believer, David's petition reveals a mature understanding of spiritual life: the right dispositions of the heart do not maintain themselves. Generosity, faithfulness, orientation toward God — all need to be preserved and directed by God himself. The prayer that asks God to keep what he himself has produced in the heart is the prayer that recognizes that spiritual life depends on God from beginning to end.

“And he went out to meet Asa, and said unto him, Hear ye me, Asa, and all Judah and Benjamin; The LORD is with you, while ye be with him; and if ye seek him, he will be found of you; but if ye forsake him, he will forsake you.”

The words of the prophet Azariah to King Asa after the victory over Zerah contain one of the most direct and reciprocal principles of spiritual life: "The LORD is with you while you are with him. If you seek him, he will be found by you, but if you forsake him, he will forsake you." The reciprocity is complete: God's presence corresponds to the people's seeking; the people's abandonment corresponds to God's abandonment. For the believer, Azariah's principle is not a threat but a description of how the relationship with God works. God's presence is not automatic or independent of the people's disposition. The one who seeks God finds him; the one who ceases to seek him experiences the distance that their own abandonment produces. The promise is as powerful as the warning: if you seek him, he will be found. Genuine seeking of God never ends in emptiness; it ends in encounter.

“With him is an arm of flesh; but with us is the LORD our God to help us, and to fight our battles. And the people rested themselves upon the words of Hezekiah king of Judah.”

Hezekiah completed his exhortation with the fundamental distinction: "With him is an arm of flesh, but with us is the LORD our God, to help us and to fight our battles." The arm of flesh — human power in its full extension — was contrasted with the LORD our God. Sennacherib had the former in abundance; Judah had the latter. And the text says the people were encouraged by the words of Hezekiah, because faith in the living God produces the strength that no evaluation of natural resources can generate. For the believer, Hezekiah's distinction between the arm of flesh and the arm of God remains the most important to make in any situation of pressure. It is not that human power counts for nothing; it is that God's power exceeds it in category, not only in degree. The one who leans on the arm of flesh — no matter how powerful — has a foundation that can fail. The one who leans on the LORD has a foundation that cannot.

“And said unto the Levites that taught all Israel, which were holy unto the LORD, Put the holy ark in the house which Solomon the son of David king of Israel did build; it shall not be a burden upon your shoulders: serve now the LORD your God, and his people Israel,”

Josiah's instruction to the Levites in the context of the restoration of worship includes this synthesis of the vocation of service: "Put the holy ark in the house that Solomon the son of David, king of Israel, built. You need not carry it on your shoulders. Now serve the LORD your God and his people Israel." The function of the Levites was twofold: serve the LORD and serve his people. The two dimensions of service are inseparable in the biblical theology of ministry. For the believer in any ministry of service to the church, Josiah's instruction identifies the right order: first serve the LORD — the vertical dimension of ministry — and then serve the people of Israel — the horizontal dimension. The ministry that begins with service to God has the right source for service to people. The one who serves people without first serving God may lose the motivation when human service proves thankless or costly.

“Thus saith Cyrus king of Persia, All the kingdoms of the earth hath the LORD God of heaven given me; and he hath charged me to build him an house in Jerusalem, which is in Judah. Who is there among you of all his people? The LORD his God be with him, and let him go up.”

The last verse of 2 Chronicles — the decree of Cyrus permitting the return of the captives to rebuild the temple of the LORD — ends with an opening toward hope: "The LORD, the God of heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of the earth, and he has charged me to build him a house at Jerusalem, which is in Judah. Whoever is among you of all his people, may the LORD his God be with him. Let him go up." The pagan king acknowledged God's commission and the book ends with an invitation to return. For the believer, the end of Chronicles with Cyrus's decree is one of the most eloquent demonstrations of God's sovereignty over kings who do not know him. Cyrus was not a worshiper of the LORD, but God used him to free his people and provide for the rebuilding of the temple. History does not require its actors to be believers to be directed by the God who reigns over all the kingdoms of the earth. The book's ending is also a beginning: the invitation to return that remains in effect.

“Now in the first year of Cyrus king of Persia, that the word of the LORD by the mouth of Jeremiah might be fulfilled, the LORD stirred up the spirit of Cyrus king of Persia, that he made a proclamation throughout all his kingdom, and put it also in writing, saying,”

The beginning of Ezra links directly to the end of 2 Chronicles: "In the first year of Cyrus king of Persia, that the word of the LORD by the mouth of Jeremiah might be fulfilled, the LORD stirred up the spirit of Cyrus king of Persia, so that he made a proclamation throughout all his kingdom and also put it in writing." God's sovereignty appears in two simultaneous dimensions: the fulfillment of Jeremiah's prophecy and the interior movement of Cyrus's spirit. God acts externally in history and internally in the heart of a pagan king. For the believer, the beginning of Ezra is one of the most powerful testimonies of how God's providence operates at multiple levels simultaneously. Jeremiah's prophecy pronounced decades earlier, the interior movement of Cyrus's spirit, the political context of Persia's rise — all converged at the precise moment God had determined for Israel's return. The history that seems to be determined by the great political powers is actually conducted by the God who stirs spirits and fulfills prophecies.

“Who is there among you of all his people? his God be with him, and let him go up to Jerusalem, which is in Judah, and build the house of the LORD God of Israel, (he is the God,) which is in Jerusalem.”

Cyrus's invitation to the exiled Jews — "Whoever is among you of all his people, may his God be with him, and let him go up to Jerusalem, which is in Judah, and rebuild the house of the LORD, the God of Israel" — was the beginning of the return from captivity that the prophets had announced. Seventy years after the first deportation, the word of the LORD through Jeremiah was being fulfilled with precision. The permission to return did not come from favorable circumstances or human initiative; it came from the sovereign fulfillment of the word God had spoken. For the believer, the return from exile is one of the most powerful milestones of God's faithfulness to his Word. What seemed impossible for seventy years — the return of a scattered people to rebuild a destroyed city and temple — became reality when God's time arrived. God's promise does not have an expiration date; it has God's timing. And when that time comes, what was impossible becomes the decree of a pagan king.

“Think upon me, my God, for good, according to all that I have done for this people.”

At the end of the chapter on the social reform Nehemiah implemented to protect the poor from usurers — reforms that personally cost him not using the governor's allowance — he closed with this prayer: "Remember for my good, O my God, all that I have done for this people." Nehemiah's petition was not for public recognition but for God's remembrance. The audience before which he lived was not that of his contemporaries but that of God himself. For the believer, Nehemiah's prayer establishes the right horizon of service: not human recognition as motivation but God's remembrance as reward. The one who serves to be seen by people has a human and perishable reward; the one who serves for God to remember has a reward that does not perish. Nehemiah's equation — do good and ask God to remember it — is the equation of service that Jesus described in Matthew 6.

“And all the people went their way to eat, and to drink, and to send portions, and to make great mirth, because they had understood the words that were declared unto them.”

For the believer, the connection between understanding God's Word and the joy the text records speaks of something spiritual experience should confirm. When God's Word is understood in its depth — not just read but understood — it produces a joy that does not come from circumstances but from contact with God's truth. Biblical teaching that does not point toward joy in God has lost something essential of its purpose.

“For Mordecai the Jew was next unto king Ahasuerus, and great among the Jews, and accepted of the multitude of his brethren, seeking the wealth of his people, and speaking peace to all his seed.”

The last verse of the book of Esther describes Mordecai with these words: "For Mordecai the Jew was second in rank to King Ahasuerus, and he was great among the Jews and popular with the multitude of his brothers, for he sought the welfare of his people and spoke peace to all his people." Mordecai's success was measured not in personal wealth accumulated but in the welfare of the people he served. He reached the second place in the kingdom and used it for the good of others. For the believer, the end of the book of Esther with this portrait of Mordecai establishes the right standard for evaluating success in the position God gives: not power exercised for personal benefit but wellbeing sought for others. The favor God grants — whether Mordecai's position or Esther's beauty — has the good of the people God loves as its purpose. The success God blesses always has others at its center.

“Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing?”

Psalm 2 begins with a question of amazement before the rebellion of the nations against the reigning God: "Why do the nations rage and the peoples plot in vain?" The question is not only historical; it is the permanent question before human resistance to God's lordship. The one who reigns in the heavens contemplates the rebellion of his creatures and describes it — in the following verse — as something that provokes his laughter: the rebellion of the finite against the infinite is ultimately ineffective. For the believer, Psalm 2 establishes the right theological framework for understanding history: the nations that rebel against God are not winning; they are doing something that heaven contemplates from the certainty that their rebellion has no future. The faith that sees history from the perspective of the reigning God can maintain the calm that the apparently successful rebellion of evil seems to challenge.

“For my people have committed two evils; they have forsaken me the fountain of living waters, and hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water.”

For the believer, the image of Jeremiah 2:13 about the abandoned fountain of living water and the broken cisterns built in its place is the diagnosis of all idolatry in every age. The idol does not need to take the form of wood or stone; it can be any substitute for God that promises to give what only God can give. The cisterns the human being builds — power, pleasure, approval, human security — have the structural flaw Jeremiah describes: they are broken and cannot hold the water.

“And I will give them an heart to know me, that I am the LORD: and they shall be my people, and I will be their God: for they shall return unto me with their whole heart.”

For the believer, the promise of Jeremiah 24:7 about the heart given by God to know him establishes that the knowledge of God is not a human achievement but a divine gift. The one who knows God did not arrive at that knowledge through their own spiritual capacity; God gave them the heart to know him. This perspective produces both the humility of the one who recognizes that the knowledge they have is given, and the gratitude of the one who received the most valuable gift possible.

“And I will bring again the captivity of my people of Israel, and they shall build the waste cities, and inhabit them; and they shall plant vineyards, and drink the wine thereof; they shall also make gardens, and eat the fruit of them.”

For the believer, the promise of Amos 9:14 about the people who build and inhabit what they build is the image of restored justice: what sin and judgment took away, God's grace restores. The believer who experiences God's restoration after a period of spiritual dispersal or loss has the promise that what God restores can be inhabited and enjoyed — not only recovered on paper but lived in fullness.

“For then will I turn to the people a pure language, that they may all call upon the name of the LORD, to serve him with one consent.”

For the believer, the promise of Zephaniah 3:9 about purified lips that together invoke the name of the LORD anticipates Revelation's vision of the redeemed from every nation, tribe, people, and language worshiping the Lamb. The linguistic and cultural diversity that sin turned into a barrier and source of conflict, the gospel begins to reverse and the kingdom of God will complete: all will invoke the name of the LORD with one accord.

“Then spake Haggai the LORD’S messenger in the LORD’S message unto the people, saying, I am with you, saith the LORD.”

For the believer, the "I am with you" of Haggai 1:13 is the foundation of every enterprise that God entrusts to his people. The same "I am with you" that God said to Moses, to Joshua, to Jeremiah, and to the Twelve in the Great Commission — "I am with you always, to the end of the age" — is the guarantee that transforms what seems impossible into something that can be done. The presence of God does not eliminate the work; it eliminates the impossibility.

“And I will bring them, and they shall dwell in the midst of Jerusalem: and they shall be my people, and I will be their God, in truth and in righteousness.”

For the believer, the covenant formula with the qualifiers "in faithfulness and in righteousness" in Zechariah 8:8 establishes that the God of the covenant is not a God who makes empty promises nor a God who accepts anything. The restored covenant is the one that has faithfulness as its foundation — without deceptions or illusions — and righteousness as its structure — without favoritism or arbitrariness. The relationship with the God of faithfulness and righteousness has the solidity that human covenants cannot guarantee.

“Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.”

For the believer, the declaration of Titus 2:14 about the purified people zealous for good works establishes that salvation has a communal and ethical purpose. Christ did not die only to forgive individuals but to create a people with the characteristics the verse describes: Christ's own, purified from lawlessness, and actively committed to good works. The one redeemed by Christ has been incorporated into this people and has the vocation of living with the zeal for good works that belonging to this people produces.

“But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light:”

For the believer, the catalogue of identities in 1 Peter 2:9 establishes that Christian identity is not the improvement of the previous identity but incorporation into a people with a radically new identity. Those who were "not a people" are now "God's people"; those who were in darkness are now in "marvelous light." And the vocation — the proclamation of the praises of the One who calls — establishes that the identities Peter enumerates have a missionary purpose: the special people, the royal priesthood, the holy nation exist to proclaim the One who called them.

“And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God.”

For the believer, the declaration of Revelation 21:3 about the God who will dwell with His people establishes the destination of history as the intimacy with God that Eden anticipated, the tabernacle symbolized, the incarnation drew near, and the new creation will fully realize. The "He will dwell with them" — skenosei met' auton — is the fulfillment of the promise that runs through the entire Bible: the God who desired to dwell with the human beings He created finally dwells with them without the barrier of sin or the mediation of the veil the first creation required.