Summary
Quick facts
- Strong’s Number
- G325
- Original Word
- ἀναδίδωμι
- Transliteration
- anadídōmi
- Pronunciation
- an-ad-eed'-om-ee
- Part of Speech
- verb
- Category
- Important Words
- Root / Etymology
- from G303 (ἀνά) and G1325 (δίδωμι);
- Frequency
- 1×
- Gematria
- 920
Where it appears
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Commentary
Contributors: · · · ·
The Hand That Reaches Upward
Only once does this sacred verb appear in the New Testament, yet that solitary occurrence carries the weight of divine intervention. The Greek word anadídōmi — a compound of ana (upward) and didōmi (to give) — paints a picture of something handed over from below to above, or perhaps from one realm into another. Its single appearance in Acts 23:33 describes a letter being delivered to the governor Felix, but the etymology whispers of something far more profound: a giving that ascends, a passing from the temporary into the eternal. The KJV renders it simply as "deliver," yet the preposition ana insists upon direction — this is no horizontal transaction, but a vertical one, a hand reaching upward to receive or to surrender.
The Aorist Action: A Moment Sealed in Time
The grammatical form of anadídōmi in Acts 23:33 is the aorist indicative active — a tense that in Greek does not merely describe an action but freezes it as a complete, punctiliar event. When the soldiers handed over the letter to Felix, they performed a single, decisive act that could not be undone. The ancient sages teach that certain moments in history are like stones dropped into still water: the ripples continue long after the stone has settled. This aorist verb captures such a moment. In the Septuagint, this same Greek word translates the Hebrew natan (to give) in passages where something is presented before a judge or authority, as in Exodus 18:19, where Jethro advises Moses to bring the people's disputes before God. The giving is never casual — it is a transfer of responsibility, a handing over of something precious or weighty.
The Letter and the Living Word
The context of this single New Testament usage is striking: a Roman commander writes to Governor Felix about the apostle Paul, and the letter is anadídōmi — delivered into the governor's hands. Yet the deeper narrative reveals that Paul himself is being handed over, passed from one jurisdiction to another, from Jerusalem to Caesarea. The apostolic tradition teaches that this physical letter prefigures a greater transmission: the Word of God itself, handed down from heaven to earth, from the Father to the Son, and from the Son to the apostles. In classical Greek, anadídōmi was used for handing over tribute to a king or for a servant presenting a message to a master. But the New Testament transforms this ordinary transaction into a theological signpost: every delivery of a letter, every passing of a scroll, every sharing of testimony is an echo of the ultimate giving — the handing over of the Messiah for the life of the world.
The Septuagint Bridge: From Hebrew Hands to Greek Words
When the translators of the Septuagint sought Greek words for the Hebrew Scriptures, they chose anadídōmi to render the Hebrew natan in contexts of formal presentation. In Leviticus 7:32, the priest receives the right thigh as a wave offering — a portion handed over from the worshiper to the holy office. The Hebrew verb natan carries the sense of giving freely, but the Greek anadídōmi adds the nuance of upward direction: the gift ascends to God through the priest. This inter-testamental bridge reveals that the biblical writers understood every act of giving as having a vertical dimension. When you give to another, you are handing something upward to the Holy One who dwells beyond the veil. The rabbis of old observed that the hand that opens to give is the hand that opens to receive — and anadídōmi captures both motions in a single verb.
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The Apostolic Pattern: Delivery as Destiny
The Apostle Paul, in whose story this verb appears, understood deeply the pattern of being handed over. He writes in Romans 8:32 that God "did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all" — using paradidōmi, a kindred verb. Yet anadídōmi suggests something distinct: a handing over that is also an elevation. When the letter for Paul is delivered to Felix, the apostle himself is being lifted into a new phase of his mission — from the turbulence of Jerusalem to the courts of Rome. The early church recognized in this pattern the shape of discipleship: you are handed over, delivered into circumstances you did not choose, yet the hand that passes you along is the hand of the Father. The apostolic tradition teaches that every trial is a delivery, every transition a transmission from one purpose to a higher one.
The Messianic Fulfillment: Yeshua, the One Handed Over
The deepest resonance of anadídōmi is found not in a letter but in a life. Yeshua Himself was handed over — delivered by Judas, handed over to Pilate, surrendered to the cross. Yet the Greek of the Gospels uses paradidōmi for this betrayal, leaving anadídōmi for the moment when something is presented to authority with purpose. In John 19:30, Yeshua declares, "It is finished," and handed over His spirit — a different verb, yet the same upward motion. The New Testament writers apply this pattern to Christ's work: He was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification (Romans 4:25). The handing over of the Messiah was not a passive surrender but an active presentation — He gave Himself upward to the Father, offering His life as the perfect gift. Every letter delivered, every message passed from hand to hand, echoes this ultimate transmission: the Word made flesh, handed over for the redemption of the world.
The Hand That Gives and the Hand That Receives
You stand today at a crossing of hands. Something is being delivered into your keeping — a message, a responsibility, a person, a truth. The verb anadídōmi calls you to recognize that every act of receiving is also an act of handing upward. When you accept a calling, you are presenting it to the One who called you. When you receive a burden, you are lifting it toward heaven. The rabbis of old taught that the hands are the instruments of the soul: what you take hold of, your spirit must hold. And what you release, you release into hands greater than your own. The single occurrence of this verb in Scripture reminds you that your life is a letter being delivered — written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, carried from hand to hand, from moment to moment, until it reaches its destination in the presence of the King. Let your hands be open: to give, to receive, and to lift all that you touch toward the throne of grace.