Did Moses Change God’s Mind?

Wrestling with the Divine in Exodus 32

“So the LORD changed His mind…”

(Exodus 32:14, NASB)

Wait. What?

That verse has haunted theologians, baffled Bible nerds, and sparked debate in seminary break rooms for centuries.

I got a text from one of my School of Discipleship students the other day (shoutout to the real ones who read Exodus for fun and then have existential crises):

“Bro… I’ve been reading through Exodus 32:7–14 and wondering if it’s actually possible for us to change God’s mind. Does God really change His mind? And if so, how often does this happen, considering that He is all-knowing and the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow? Also, why was God ready to destroy the people He just spent so much time saving and start over with Moses!??”

A light question, really.

The kind of question you only ask if you’re either (A) someone who really wants to know God, or (B) an absolute madman. Maybe both.

I happened to be on my bike when I got this, so I used it as an opportunity to ponder the question while riding through the OK countryside, and then dictated my answer mid-ride (my poor thumbs couldn’t handle the theological weight).

Here’s the expanded and cleaned-up version.

God, the Same … But Also Wildly Mysterious

Let’s start here: I believe in divine omniscience. God is not surprised by anything. He doesn’t learn (besides when He is in human form as young Jesus). He doesn’t forget. He doesn’t shift like shadows.

The Scriptures are clear on this (Malachi 3:6, Hebrews 13:8, James 1:17).

But if that’s true, what do we do with moments like Exodus 32, where God seems to flip the table in a burst of righteous rage?

God says to Moses, “Stand back, I’m gonna nuke ’em and start over with you!”

And Moses — faithful, furious, exhausted Moses — pushes back. He says, “Don’t do it!!!! That’s not who You are.”

And then God, seemingly, relents. Changes His mind. Doesn’t do the thing He said He was gonna do.

That should stop us in our tracks.

And I think it’s supposed to.

The Wrestle Is the Point

Here’s my working theory, and I’ll tell you upfront : this might be wrong. But it’s my best effort to hold divine sovereignty in one hand and authentic human experience in the other without dropping either.

God knew what Moses would say.

God knew what would happen.

God wasn’t throwing a tantrum.

He was throwing Moses into a wrestling match.

Because wrestling forms prophets.

Wrestling builds leaders.

And God’s whole plan…  His ridiculous, beautiful, painfully slow plan to redeem the world …  involves drawing humans into that plan in ways that stretch and shape them.

God as a Father Who Knows What He’s Doing

I’ve got a 3-year-old, Jack. At bedtime, we have a very sacred, very chaotic ritual: bath, PJs, book, teeth, songs, snuggles. That’s the liturgy. That’s the covenant.

But some nights, he turns into a naked goblin sprinting across the house refusing to get dressed. (Parenthood, folks.)

In moments like that, I’ll say, “Okay, bud. I guess we’re not reading a book tonight. No book for you!!”

Here’s the thing: I know how that sentence will hit him. I know it’ll bring him to his knees in repentance. I know he will instantly get with the program and head over to the big blue chair in the nursery begging me to keep the original plan. Why? Because I know him.

Jack: “WHAT!? DAD NO! NO!!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ A BOOK! WE ALWAYS READ A BOOK! YOU PROMISED ME A BOOK!”

Me: “Hmmm…. alright, if you say so. I guess I’ll change my mind.” 😏

It’s not manipulation. It’s not deception. It’s love that draws something out.

That’s what I see in Exodus 32.

God isn’t insecure.

He isn’t second-guessing His redemptive plan.

He’s training up a son.

He’s shaping a leader.

He’s drawing out covenant loyalty from Moses.

“Where Are You?” — God’s Pattern of Questions

This moment with Moses fits into a long, strange pattern throughout Scripture where God asks questions He already knows the answers to:

• “Adam, where are you?” (Genesis 3)

• “Cain, why are you angry?” (Genesis 4)

• “Elijah, what are you doing here?” (1 Kings 19)

These are not questions born of ignorance.

They are confrontations designed to draw us out of hiding, to bring us face-to-face with our mission, our failure, our calling, our heart.

God isn’t changing.

But we are.

And sometimes, to change us, He meets us in the disorienting place where it feels like He might change — just so we’ll lean in.

Nacham (נָחַם): Does God Really “Change His Mind”?

Let’s zoom in on the Hebrew for a moment — because words matter, especially when we’re trying to discern if the Creator of the universe just pulled a U-turn.

The word used in Exodus 32:14 is nacham.

It’s often translated “repent,” “relent,” “be sorry,” or “change one’s mind.” But nacham is rich and nuanced. It doesn’t necessarily mean changing one’s mind the way we modern Westerners think — like God said, “Whoops! That was a bad idea. Let me rethink that.”

It can also mean to sigh deeply, to grieve, or to be moved emotionally in response to a situation.

In other places (like Jonah 3:10, nacham is used to describe God’s relenting from judgment, not out of confusion or second-guessing, but out of mercy and compassion.

So what does that mean for Exodus 32?

Here’s where I humbly land:

I don’t think this moment reveals a God who is unstable or indecisive.

I think it reveals a God who feels, who cares, who is deeply engaged with His people.

And I think nacham here reflects not divine mood swings… but divine compassion.

It’s not a pivot in plan — it’s a glimpse of the Father’s heart breaking open, again.

Moses didn’t out-argue God.

He stepped into God’s covenant purposes and reflected God’s own love back to Him.

And that’s the kind of leadership God is forming — not robotic obedience, but hearts aligned with His.

God’s Covenant Loyalty: The Core of the Conversation

When Moses intercedes, what does he appeal to?

Not logic. Not utilitarian pragmatism. Not Moses’s own leadership potential.

He appeals to Hesed — God’s covenant faithfulness.

“Remember Your servants, Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, to whom You swore by Yourself…” (Exodus 32:13)

And here’s what’s wild: Moses gets it.

He gets the heart of God.

He says, “You promised to be faithful. You made a covenant. That’s who You are.”

And God says, “Yes.”

Moses didn’t change God’s character.

He reflected it.

Like a mirror held up to the face of God.

Theological Anchors: Molinism, Anthropopathism, and Covenant Theology

If you’re into labels, some of the ideas I’m playing with here are:

• Molinism :  the idea that God knows not only what will happen, but what could happen in every conceivable scenario.

• Anthropopathism :  the use of human emotions to describe God’s actions, not because God is literally changing moods like a sitcom dad, but to help us relate to Him.

• Covenant Theology :  the idea that God works through unbreakable, promise-based relationships, and invites humans into responsibility and representation of His will.

Final Thought: God Knew Moses Would Say It — But He Still Wanted Him to Say It

God isn’t a robot programmer writing deterministic code.

He’s a Father, a covenant partner, a shepherd, a teacher.

And like any good teacher, He lets the student arrive at the truth through struggle.

God knew what Moses would do.

But He wanted Moses to own it.

He wanted Moses to see the stakes, feel the weight, grasp the gravity of leading a broken people on a holy journey.

And maybe most of all… He wanted Moses to understand His heart.

A heart that burns with righteous anger, yes.

But a heart that loves to relent.

So… Can We Change God’s Mind?

Short answer: Not in the flaky, fickle, wishy-washy way we sometimes think of “changing minds.”

Longer answer: Sometimes it feels like we do — but really, God is changing us. Drawing us into something deeper. Pulling us into the center of His heart.

He doesn’t change.

But He moves us through moments that feel like change, so we’ll learn to trust Him, reflect Him, and partner with Him in this wild plan to redeem the cosmos.

So wrestle.

Ask questions.

Push back like Moses did.

God’s not threatened by your honesty.

In fact, He may be waiting for it.

-Fin.

Bonus Section: Going Deeper into Exodus 32: For the Theology Nerds in the Back

So if you’re still here after reading “Did Moses Change God’s Mind?”… congratulations. You’re one of my people. The “I want to know what God is doing under the hood” people. The “I don’t want surface answers” people. The theology nerds in the back of the church, whispering, “Wait, but what about Molinism?”

This section is for you.

Let’s unpack some of the theological frameworks and biblical themes that quietly scaffold my earlier take on Exodus 32 — and show how they’re not just esoteric rabbit trails, but part of the Great Big Story centered on Jesus, the Kingdom, and the ultimate plan to fix this wrecked world.

1. Molinism: The Map of All Possible Futures

Like William Lane Craig, I find Molinism to be quite a useful perspective. Molinism (named after Luis de Molina) holds that God possesses middle knowledge — that is, He knows not only everything that will happen, but also everything that could happen in every possible situation. Every branching choice. Every “what if.” Every contingency.

So, I’d assert, when we see God say, “Moses, I’m going to wipe them out,” we’re not watching a being who lacks foresight. We’re seeing a God who already knows what Moses is going to say — but chooses to enter into the interaction anyway, because the process matters.

Why?

Because in Molinism, God uses the full map of possibilities to sovereignly orchestrate a world in which His purposes are fulfilled through authentic human engagement.

So no, Moses didn’t “change” God’s mind like a surprise twist in the story.

Rather: God, foreknowing every possibility, ordained a world in which Moses would intercede — a world where Moses would reflect God’s own heart back to Him and walk away transformed by it.

This doesn’t reduce the story to a deterministic script. It raises the stakes. It means your choices matter — and yet they’re not a threat to God’s sovereignty. Somehow, in the divine matrix of possible worlds, He weaves human agency and divine will into a seamless cohesive unit.

2. Anthropopathism: God Talks Like Us to Reach Us

When God says something like, “I’m angry” or “I regret making humans” or “I’m going to destroy these people,” theologians often say these are anthropopathisms — human emotions attributed to God so we can understand His actions.

It’s not that God is “fickle.” It’s that He’s stooping low to be relational.

Just like we say, “the sun rose at 6:30 a.m.” (even though technically it’s the earth rotating), the Bible speaks in human-shaped language about a God beyond our comprehension.

Why?

Because God wants to be known.

So when He speaks in emotionally intense, seemingly “changeable” terms, it’s not deception — it’s invitation. It’s God entering our space and our language so that we can wrestle, reflect, repent, and respond.

Jesus does this too. He weeps. He groans. He asks questions. Not because He’s in the dark, but because He’s meeting us in ours.

3. Covenant Theology: The Unbreakable Backbone of the Story

In Exodus 32, Moses doesn’t argue based on logic, utility, or guilt-trips.

He argues based on covenant.

“Remember Your servants, Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, to whom You swore by Yourself…” (v.13)

That’s massive. Because what Moses is saying is, “God, You promised. And I believe You keep Your promises.”

He’s invoking the whole Abrahamic covenant (Genesis 12, 15, 17) — the story that launched a new humanity project after Babel. A promise to bless all nations through Abraham’s family. A cosmic reversal of the curse. A people called to bring Eden to the world again.

And remember: God had every right to end the plan. He had done it before (Noah and the Flood). He could have done it again.

But Hesed — covenant loyalty — won out.

This covenant is not some cold, legal contract. It’s a red-hot, loyal love. And Moses appeals to it because he knows: This is who God really is.

That theme continues all the way to Jesus.

4. Narrative Theology: The Story Arc that Leads to Jesus and the Kingdom

Exodus 32 isn’t just an isolated theological puzzle. It’s a scene in a massive story that stretches from Eden to Golgotha to the New Jerusalem.

Let’s zoom out.

• Back in Genesis 3, after the fall, God promised a snake crusher — a future human who would crush evil but be wounded in the process.

• In Genesis 12, God narrowed that promise to Abraham: “Through your seed, all nations will be blessed.”

• Exodus is the story of that seed becoming a nation.

• Exodus 32 is the moment where it all could have unraveled.

And yet — it doesn’t.

Because God is faithful.

Even when His people are worshipping golden cow-gods, forgetting the covenant, and sabotaging their calling.

He will not let the plan die.

He will not let the world go unredeemed.

He is relentless.

And the story doesn’t end with Moses. It escalates.

The snake-crusher comes — not with plagues, but with healing in His hands.

He doesn’t cry out, “Let me destroy these sinners.” He says, “Father, forgive them.”

He doesn’t stand on a mountain and plead for mercy. He hangs on a cross and becomes the mercy.

Jesus is the greater Moses, the final Mediator, the faithful covenant partner humanity never managed to be on our own.

Through His life, death, resurrection, and ascension, He launches the Kingdom of God — God’s new way of being human in the world. A world re-woven with grace. A world where sin doesn’t get the final word.

Conclusion: The Tension Is the Gospel

God had every right to start over.

He had every right to burn it all down.

And yet — again and again, from Noah to Nineveh to Calvary — He chooses Hesed!

Loyal love.

Covenant mercy.

A love that can judge but longs to redeem.

And through Jesus, that love explodes out of Israel and floods the nations.

The plan was never to destroy.

The plan was always to save.

And somehow… we get to be part of it.

So keep wrestling. Keep asking. Keep digging deep.

And remember: the deeper you go into the hard questions, the more you find a God whose love is even deeper still.

Got more theological rabbit trails you want to explore? DM me or leave a comment. Or better yet — bring your questions to your own wilderness conversations with God. He’s not afraid of your honesty. He welcomes it.