Unmasking the Lords of the Old Testament

Introduction: Which God Are We Talking About?

For many readers of the Bible—both devout and skeptical—a troubling question arises almost inevitably:
Why is the God of the Old Testament so different from the Father revealed by Jesus Christ?

The loving Father who forgives, heals, and patiently draws the lost into His embrace, as described in the Gospels, seems jarringly inconsistent with the terrifying figure in parts of the Hebrew Bible—one who floods the earth, orders the annihilation of cities, sends venomous snakes to punish his people, and demands entire nations be wiped out. The dissonance is deep enough that many have either given up reading the Old Testament, adopted theological gymnastics to rationalize the contradictions, or—worse—walked away from faith altogether.

But what if the contradiction is not a misunderstanding on our part?

What if the confusion was planted—intentionally or through historical redaction—and the God we think we are reading about in many parts of the Old Testament was not always the true God at all?

What if there was not one “Lord” speaking in the Old Testament—but two, ruling side by side over Israel, their actions frequently confused, their identities merged by scribes, but their intentions radically different?

And what if Jesus of Nazareth came not only to reveal the Father—but also to expose the deception?

📜 A Bible Divided

The Scriptures are not written like a modern textbook. They are layered, multi-sourced, and sometimes conflicting because they reflect a history of divine intervention, human misinterpretation, and spiritual intrusion. The Bible tells the truth—but not all parts of the Bible come from the same spirit. That’s a critical distinction. The Word of God is truth, but not every word in Scripture is spoken by the true God.

This is not a denial of Scripture—it is a right division of it.

As Paul urged Timothy: “Be diligent to present yourself approved to God… rightly dividing the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15). The Greek phrase used—orthotomounta ton logon tēs alētheias—literally means to cut straight through the Word. Not blend it. Not sugarcoat it. Not harmonize what cannot be reconciled. But to discern, divide, and expose.

🕵️ Investigative Theology: Reading with Eyes that See

This series will take you on a forensic journey through the Bible—examining the fingerprints, motives, and effects of the divine voices recorded in Scripture. We'll ask uncomfortable but necessary questions:

• Why are there two contradictory creation stories in Genesis?

• Why does God in Genesis 1 seem peaceful and creative, while in Genesis 2 He is reactive, restrictive, and eventually curses His own creation?

• Why was Cain’s line preserved while Abel’s was erased—only to be spiritually revived in Seth?

• Why did Moses encounter God as El Shaddai, but then suddenly begin acting under the authority of Yahweh?

• Why do Jesus and the apostles never quote or praise Yahweh by name?

These aren’t academic questions. They go to the heart of your faith.

🧬 Two Lords in the Old Testament

By the end of this journey, you’ll see that there were two “lords” at work in the Old Testament:

• One is El Shaddai – the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Fertility-giving, covenant-keeping, and merciful.

• The other is Yahweh – the god of the Kenite lineage, introduced through Moses' father-in-law, a god of wrath, testing, and death.

The evidence is not in obscure texts—it is hidden in plain sight, waiting for the reader who approaches Scripture with a crime investigation mindset.

When Jesus Christ appeared in the fullness of time, He did more than just fulfill prophecy—He unveiled the true Father, the one no one had seen before. His revelation was not just additive; it was corrective.

⚖️ Reconciling the Irreconcilable

This series is not about attacking Scripture—but about healing the contradiction that has haunted believers for centuries. Our goal is to:

1. Separate the voices: identify when the true God is speaking, and when a usurper has stepped in.

2. Trace the pattern: follow the actions, attributes, and outcomes associated with each “lord.”

3. Reveal the Truth: show how the Only-Begotten Son, Jesus Christ, was not the son of El Shaddai or Yahweh, but the visible image of the invisible Father—God Most High, El Elyon.

4. Restore right worship: by the end, readers will be equipped to abandon fear-based religion and embrace the love, mercy, and truth of the Triune God revealed in Christ.

🔭 What to Expect in the Journey Ahead

We will proceed methodically. The first few articles will explore the identity of the gods and lords in the Hebrew Scriptures. The middle section will expose how Yahweh manipulated the people, escalating violence and using divine authority for destruction. Later chapters will turn toward Jesus Christ, showing how His words, actions, and revelation of the Father unmask the lies and call us back to truth.

In the final stretch, we will propose a reconciled theological framework—one that preserves the authority of Scripture while unveiling the truth hidden beneath its layers.

🛐 Final Words for the Reader

Dear reader, this is not merely a theological debate or academic study. This is about recovering the heart of God that has been hidden from the world. It is about restoring the goodness of the true God of Israel and defending His name from the crimes falsely attributed to Him.

Jesus said, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.”

Let us begin this journey to discover that truth—and through it, recover the beauty, mercy, and justice of the God who was always there, even when His voice was drowned out by imposters.

Chapter 2: One God or Many Lords?

Investigating the Divine Divide in the Old Testament

Introduction: The Hidden Fracture

In the minds of most believers, the Bible speaks with divine unity. From Genesis to Revelation, it is assumed that the God who created the heavens and the earth is the same one who called Abraham, appeared to Moses, punished Egypt, led Israel through the wilderness, and finally sent His Son into the world. The name may change—sometimes Elohim, sometimes El Shaddai, Yahweh, or Adonai—but the essence is assumed to be singular, holy, and consistent.

But what if this is not entirely true?

What if the Old Testament does not always speak with one voice, but with two conflicting divine presences—entangled, competing, yet distinguishable to the discerning reader?

What if the Lord who revealed Himself to Abraham as El Shaddai was not the same as the Yahweh who demanded bloodshed, tested people through suffering, and ruled Israel with a heavy hand?

What if Israel was spiritually caught between a merciful God of the fathers and a usurping lord of the desert—and what if Jesus Christ came not only to reveal the true Father, but to expose the one who had deceived them?

This chapter sets the stage for that investigation.

1. Two Creation Stories, Two Spirits

The fracture begins not in Exodus or in the wilderness—but at the very beginning of the Bible.

Genesis 1: The Peaceful Creator

The first chapter of Genesis offers a poetic and majestic description of creation. God—called Elohim throughout—creates light, separates waters, plants stars in the sky, fills the seas, and finally creates humanity in His image:

“So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.” (Genesis 1:27)

Here, man and woman are created together, as equals, with no mention of sin, shame, or curses. The seventh day is sanctified as a day of rest—God is complete, satisfied, and silent.

Genesis 2: The Author of Tests and Curses

Then something changes.

The next chapter begins with the phrase: “These are the generations of the heavens and the earth...” And suddenly, we are introduced not to Elohim, but to Yahweh Elohim—a new compound name. The tone shifts drastically.

Now, man is created alone, placed in a garden that contains a mysterious tree of knowledge of good and evil. He is warned under threat of death. A woman is created from his rib. A serpent appears. Temptation leads to rebellion. A curse descends, and man is exiled from Eden.

The loving Creator has become a watchful judge.

Why the contradiction?
Why the name change?
And why are two entirely different portraits of divinity placed side by side—almost without explanation?

This is not simply poetic variety. It is the earliest evidence that the Bible’s divine voice is not singular. The Spirit who creates is not the same as the one who tests, curses, and banishes.

The crime scene has been marked.

2. The Mysterious Name of God: When Yahweh Arrives

Centuries after the garden exile, a fugitive named Moses encounters a bush burning with fire but not consumed. The voice that speaks from the bush introduces itself indirectly:

“I am who I am” (Hebrew: Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh).
Then adds, “Say to the people of Israel, ‘I AM has sent me to you.’” (Exodus 3:14)

But Moses is confused. This is not the God he expected to hear from. Later, God says:

“I am Yahweh. I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob as El Shaddai, but by my name Yahweh I did not make myself known to them.” (Exodus 6:2–3)

This is a startling admission. The God speaking claims to be introducing a new name, one unknown to the patriarchs. But if Yahweh is the same God, why this shift? Why this rebranding?

The answer lies not in theological speculation, but in historical patterns. This moment marks the arrival of a new lord, stepping into the narrative, claiming continuity with the past, but introducing a new era—one marked not by covenantal friendship, but by authoritarian rule.

3. The Kenite Connection: Yitro and the Priesthood of Yahweh

We must pay attention to the details. When Moses fled Egypt, he found refuge with Yitro (Jethro), a Kenite priest of Midian. There, Moses married Zipporah, Yitro’s daughter. And it is on the mountain of God in Midian—not in Canaan—that Moses encounters the burning bush.

Later, after the Israelites escape Egypt, it is Yitro who comes to offer sacrifices to Yahweh, not El Shaddai (Exodus 18:12). In fact, the entire sacrificial system that Moses later enacts seems to mirror the priesthood and rituals of Yitro.

Could it be that Yahweh was not the God of the Hebrews, but the god of the Kenites, who entered the story through Moses?

Biblical scholars have long debated the Kenite Hypothesis—that Yahweh worship originated among the Midianites or Kenites and was later adopted into Israelite religion. If so, the "revelation" at the burning bush may not have been a return to the God of the patriarchs, but an infiltration.

4. Escalation of Signs: From Symbol to Destruction

When El Shaddai sent Moses to Egypt, the signs given were symbolic and harmless:

• A rod turns into a serpent.

• A hand becomes leprous and is restored.

• Water from the Nile, when poured on dry ground, becomes blood (Exodus 4:1–9).

These are controlled demonstrations—visual signs, not judgments.

But something changes on the way. Once Yahweh fully takes control of the narrative, the signs turn into plagues:

• All the waters of Egypt turn to blood—not just a small sign.

• Frogs infest the land.

• Lice, flies, boils, hail, darkness, and finally, the death of the firstborn.

This is not the action of a merciful covenant God. This is judgment without distinction, terror without warning.

The signs have been escalated into warfare.

Yahweh, the god of fire and vengeance, has taken command—and Egypt, Israel, and even Moses are dragged into his judgment.

5. Fruit Will Reveal the Tree

Jesus gave us the clearest investigative tool of all:

“You will know them by their fruits.” (Matthew 7:16)

Look at the fruits of El Shaddai:

• He called Abraham to walk before Him in faith.

• He revealed Himself through covenant, not terror.

• He promised descendants, land, and blessing—not war and testing.

Now look at the fruits of Yahweh:

• Curses, mass killings, snake infestations, genocidal commands.

• Anger even against His own people for minor infractions.

• A constant cycle of testing, punishment, and fear.

The contrast is not mild. It is spiritual light and darkness, truth and manipulation, mercy and fear.

6. Two Lords in the Desert

Even after the Exodus, the Israelites oscillate between two gods:

• One gives them manna in the morning and water from rocks.

• Another strikes them with vipers and opens the earth to swallow dissenters.

When the people thirst at Marah, the water is bitter. But Moses—knowing something deeper—throws in a tree, and the water becomes sweet. That tree, many believe, is a reference to Asherah—a feminine symbol associated with El Shaddai.

Again, Moses uses knowledge that Yahweh would reject, yet it brings life.

Later, when Yahweh sends fiery serpents, Moses raises a brass serpent on a pole—a symbol not of Yahweh, but of healing and life. It is this very image that Jesus references:

“As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up.” (John 3:14)

Jesus validates Moses’s use of El Shaddai’s symbol, not Yahweh’s plague.

7. Shadows in Eden: The Rise of the Usurper

While the names Elohim and Yahweh offer early clues about a divine fracture, it is in the unfolding stories of Cain, Abel, Seth, and Noah that we begin to see the shadow of another “god”—one not always identified, yet whose influence is deadly, manipulative, and persistent. This figure lurks in the background of Genesis, not explicitly named, but revealed through action and absence, through unnatural silences and suspicious patterns.

We are not yet seeing Yahweh in full, but we are encountering his spiritual footprint—the behavior of a being whose aim is to murder, deceive, divide, and eventually take dominion through fear. Jesus later says of him:

“You are of your father the devil… He was a murderer from the beginning and did not stand in the truth.” (John 8:44)

Let us now look carefully at Genesis chapters 4 to 9, and reconstruct what was hidden.

7.1. Cain and Abel: A Tale of Two Hearts

Genesis 4 opens with the birth of Cain, the firstborn of humanity. Soon after, Abel is born. The two brothers bring offerings:

• Abel brings the firstborn of his flock, and the narrative says God had regard for Abel.

• Cain brings “some of the fruits of the ground,” but his offering is not regarded.

The text doesn’t say God rejected Cain—only that He favored Abel’s. Yet this perceived injustice unleashes a rage in Cain that leads to murder.

But here is the mystery: Where is the God who speaks? Who received the offerings?

If it was El Shaddai, the God of the covenant and life, why did He not intervene sooner? Why allow a murder to take place? Why the silence?

Unless, of course, another “lord” had already begun to intercept worship—accepting offerings, influencing Cain’s jealousy, whispering in his ear.

In the Syriac tradition, it is believed that Abel offered intercession for his brother—not just worship. Abel’s heart was to redeem, not condemn. He became a type of Christ: innocent, pleading for the guilty, and murdered by a rebellious world.

Jesus later calls Abel “righteous”, and condemns the spirit behind Cain as satanic. The spirit behind Cain was not El Shaddai, but another—already sowing death and separation.

7.2. Mercy for Cain: Whose Justice Was This?

What happens next is chilling.

God tells Cain: “The voice of your brother’s blood cries out to Me from the ground.” Then He banishes Cain—not with death, but with mercy:

“Whoever kills Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold.” (Genesis 4:15)

A mark is placed on Cain for protection. He is allowed to live, to marry, to build a city.

This is the first civil system. Cain builds Enoch, a city in his son’s name. Civilization, culture, and even music begin to thrive through Cain’s line.

But under what spirit?

These are not the descendants of covenant. They are not following El Shaddai. Yet they are not destroyed. They prosper. Their children multiply.

It is as if someone is protecting them. Someone powerful, ancient, and benevolent—but not righteous.

This is the beginning of spiritual dualism in Scripture.

7.3. Seth and the Return to El Shaddai

Meanwhile, after Abel’s death, Adam and Eve conceive another son: Seth.

“And to Seth, a son was also born; and he named him Enosh. Then men began to call upon the name of the LORD.” (Genesis 4:26)

But wait—this “LORD” here is again Yahweh in the Masoretic text. However, the context does not support Yahweh’s introduction at this stage. Instead, this verse may reflect a later editorial interpolation—a scribal attempt to insert Yahweh’s name into a tradition where He had not yet appeared.

In truth, this moment marks a return to true worship. Seth’s line represents restoration—a line that remembers the God of Adam and Eve before the fall, the Creator of Genesis 1, the covenant-making El Shaddai.

This is why the genealogy in Genesis 5 traces the line of Seth, not Cain. It is Seth’s line that leads to Enoch (who walked with God) and to Noah, the survivor of the flood.

7.4. The Days of Noah: Two Spirits Clash Again

Genesis 6 opens with strange language:

“The sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful, and they took wives for themselves…”

Who are these “sons of God”? Angels? Divine beings? Or descendants of Cain's line who had adopted divine pretensions?

This moment signals a profound corruption of the human bloodline—but also a spiritual violation.

Then comes a disturbing divine statement:

“Yahweh saw that the wickedness of man was great on the earth… and Yahweh was grieved… and Yahweh said, ‘I will destroy man whom I have created.’” (Genesis 6:5–7)

Again, the name Yahweh appears—not El Shaddai.

This is the first full expression of a violent purge. This is not the God of mercy choosing one righteous man—this is a lord threatening to wipe out everything.

Yet, Noah finds favor in God’s eyes.

But which God?

7.5. The Hidden God Who Saves

If Yahweh was determined to destroy all flesh, why did Noah survive? Why was he warned?

Because El Shaddai had not forsaken the earth.

The God who walked with Enoch, who planted His seed in Seth’s line, now whispers again into human history. He instructs Noah to build the ark. He ensures the survival of the animals. He preserves life even in judgment.

But notice something eerie:

• Cain’s descendants are never mentioned as being punished.

• There is no flood judgment against the city of Enoch.

• It is Seth’s line—the line that worshipped El Shaddai—that bears the trauma of survival.

Once again, it seems that the flood is not just divine justice—it is a spiritual collision.

El Shaddai rescues. Yahweh drowns.

But even in this horror, El Shaddai ensures mercy endures.

7.6. After the Flood: A Divided Humanity Emerges

After the waters recede, Noah offers a sacrifice. God responds with a promise:

“Never again will I curse the ground because of man… I will not destroy all living things again.” (Genesis 8:21)

This promise reflects El Shaddai’s covenantal mercy. The rainbow becomes a sign of peace, not wrath.

But not long after, the narrative becomes strange again.

• Ham’s line is cursed.

• Nimrod rises and becomes a “mighty one”—possibly under the influence of the same ancient spirit.

• The Tower of Babel is built—a collective rebellion whose punishment mirrors the old pattern of confusion and separation.

The shadow of Yahweh returns, but so does El Shaddai—through Abram, called out of Ur to begin again.

Conclusion: The Struggle Begins Early

From Genesis 4 to 11, we see a pattern:

• Abel, the intercessor, is silenced.

• Cain is protected but goes his own way.

• Seth restores worship.

• The world divides between those who listen and those who are influenced.

• A flood comes—not only as judgment, but as an act of spiritual conflict.

• Mercy reemerges—but so does domination.

Two spirits walk through Genesis:

• One kills, hides, divides, and punishes.

• The other restores, warns, shelters, and saves.

These are not two moods of one God. They are two lords, one seeking control, the other safeguarding covenant.