Rethinking Christian Eschatology: Reading the NT/OT Witness in Context

Few areas of Christian theology generate as much fascination, disagreement, and interpretive diversity as eschatology. Within modern evangelicalism, interpretations of the “end times” have often been shaped not only by biblical exegesis but also by theological systems, popular literature, and attempts to correlate prophetic texts with contemporary geopolitical events.1 While such efforts have captured the imagination of many believers, they have also contributed to a landscape in which competing frameworks—often built upon different assumptions about Israel, the church, the kingdom of God, and the book of Revelation—stand in tension with one another.

This study seeks to approach the subject from a historically and textually grounded perspective. Rather than attempting to predict specific future events or construct a speculative prophetic timetable, the goal is to examine the biblical texts within their literary, historical, and theological contexts. Such an approach reflects a growing emphasis among contemporary New Testament scholars who argue that apocalyptic literature, particularly the book of Revelation, must first be understood within the symbolic world and historical circumstances of the early Christian communities to which it was addressed.2

In doing so, it becomes necessary to acknowledge the major interpretive frameworks that have shaped modern discussions of eschatology. Dispensational premillennialism—particularly in its twentieth-century popular forms—has strongly influenced evangelical expectations regarding a future rapture, tribulation, and restoration of national Israel.3 Yet other traditions within Christian theology, including historic premillennialism, amillennialism, and postmillennialism, offer different readings of the kingdom of God, the millennium, and the relationship between Israel and the church.4 Comparative analyses of these frameworks often begin with questions regarding the timing of tribulation and the millennium, though these categories alone do not resolve the deeper theological issues involved.5

The perspective explored in this article is broadly non-dispensational. While dispensational interpretations have played a significant role in shaping contemporary evangelical eschatology, many scholars question the sharp theological distinction often drawn between Israel and the church within that framework.6 Instead, increasing attention has been given to readings that emphasize the continuity of God’s covenantal purposes across both Testaments and that interpret Revelation primarily as a theological and pastoral document written to encourage faithfulness amid persecution rather than as a detailed chronological map of future world events.7

The purpose of this study, therefore, is not to dismiss alternative perspectives but to examine them carefully while proposing a reading of biblical eschatology that takes seriously the historical setting of the New Testament, the literary character of apocalyptic literature, and the broader narrative of Scripture. By exploring themes such as the present reign of Christ, the role of Israel in redemptive history, and the theological message of Revelation, this article aims to contribute to a more historically informed and theologically coherent understanding of Christian hope.

Any serious discussion of Christian eschatology must begin with the question of Israel. The various modern debates regarding tribulation, the millennium, and the future of the world are ultimately rooted in deeper theological questions concerning the role of Israel within the unfolding narrative of Scripture. How one understands Israel’s covenant identity, the nature of God’s promises to that covenant people, and the relationship between Israel and the messianic community established through Jesus significantly shapes one’s interpretation of prophetic literature and the book of Revelation.8

The biblical narrative opens with a theological vision in which humanity is created in the image of God and commissioned to represent divine rule within creation (Gen. 1:26–28).9 In this sense, humanity functions as a royal-priestly community tasked with mediating God’s presence and governance within the created order. The disruption of this vocation through human rebellion in Genesis 3 introduces alienation from God and disorder within creation, setting in motion the redemptive trajectory that unfolds throughout the remainder of Scripture.10

Within this unfolding narrative, God elects Israel as a covenant people through whom his redemptive purposes for the world will be advanced (Gen. 12:1–3). Israel’s election is therefore missional rather than merely ethnic; it serves as the means through which God intends to restore blessing to the nations.11 The Abrahamic and Mosaic covenants frame Israel’s identity as a people called to covenant fidelity, living in devotion to Yahweh and embodying his character among the nations with the hope of regathering the nations.

This dynamic may also be illuminated through what some scholars have described as a Deuteronomy 32 worldview. In Deuteronomy 32:8–9, the Song of Moses describes a moment in which the Most High “divided the nations” and fixed their boundaries according to the number of the sons of God, while Israel remained Yahweh’s own allotted portion. Many interpreters understand this text—particularly in light of the textual tradition preserved in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Septuagint—to reflect the biblical memory of the dispersion of the nations in Genesis 10–11 and the subsequent ordering of the nations under divine authority.12 Within this framework, the table of seventy nations in Genesis 10 functions not merely as a genealogical record but as a theological map of the world that has fallen under fragmented rule following the rebellion at Babel.13 The call of Abraham in Genesis 12, and the formation of Israel as a covenant people, therefore mark the beginning of God’s redemptive strategy to reclaim the nations that had been scattered. This trajectory reaches a significant moment in Acts 2, where the outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost gathers representatives of many nations and languages, symbolically reversing the fragmentation of Babel and signaling the beginning of the restoration of the nations through the reign of the Messiah.14

Yet the Old Testament repeatedly portrays Israel’s struggle to maintain this covenantal faithfulness. One of the most significant moments in this trajectory occurs in 1 Samuel 8, when Israel demands a human king “like the nations,” thereby signaling a tension between divine kingship and human political authority.15 Although the monarchy becomes integrated into Israel’s story—particularly through the Davidic covenant—the historical and prophetic books portray a gradual decline in covenant fidelity among both rulers and people.

It is within this context that the prophetic literature frequently employs conditional language regarding Israel’s future. Passages such as Jeremiah 17:27 and Jeremiah 22:3–9 illustrate a recurring covenant pattern in which divine promises are intertwined with calls for covenant loyalty. Blessing and stability are promised if Israel practices justice and remains faithful to Yahweh, while judgment and exile follow persistent covenant violation.16 These texts complicate modern theological attempts to rigidly divide biblical covenants into “conditional” and “unconditional” categories. While God’s covenant purposes remain grounded in divine faithfulness, the lived participation of Israel within those promises is consistently framed in relational and covenantal terms.

The Torah itself reflects this relational structure. Covenant identity is not presented merely as an ethnic designation but as a commitment to covenant loyalty expressed through obedience and devotion to Yahweh. This dynamic explains why the Old Testament occasionally depicts non-Israelites being incorporated into Israel’s covenant community when they align themselves with Israel’s God, as seen in figures such as Rahab and Ruth.17 Membership in the covenant people therefore includes both genealogical and theological dimensions.

By the time the narrative reaches the New Testament, the language of Israel is not abandoned but reframed around the person and mission of Jesus the Messiah. Early Christian writers present Jesus as the one in whom the story of Israel reaches its intended fulfillment—the faithful representative who embodies Israel’s vocation and brings the covenant promises to completion.18 Within this framework, the expansion of the covenant community to include Gentiles does not represent a replacement of Israel but the gathering of a renewed covenant people united by allegiance to Israel’s Messiah. Paul’s metaphor of grafting in Romans 11 reflects this understanding, portraying Gentile believers as incorporated into the existing covenant people rather than forming an entirely separate entity.19

Central to this theological development is the conviction that Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension inaugurate the long-awaited reign of the Messiah. The New Testament repeatedly depicts the exaltation of Christ as his enthronement at the right hand of God, drawing upon royal imagery rooted in the Davidic promises and in texts such as Psalm 110.20 In apostolic proclamation, particularly in Acts 2, Jesus’ ascension is interpreted as the moment in which he assumes the messianic throne promised to David.21 From this perspective, the reign of the Messiah is not postponed to a distant future but begins with the exaltation of the risen Christ.

Consequently, the question of Israel within eschatology becomes inseparable from the question of how the messianic kingdom inaugurated through Jesus relates to the covenant promises given throughout the Hebrew Scriptures. Interpretations diverge significantly at this point. Some theological systems anticipate a future geopolitical restoration of national Israel as a central feature of the end times, while others understand the promises to Israel as finding their fulfillment within the messianic community gathered around the reign of Christ.22 The way one resolves this question inevitably shapes one’s reading of prophetic texts, the structure of biblical eschatology, and the interpretation of Revelation itself.

Before evaluating dispensational interpretations of Israel and the church, it is important to briefly outline the framework itself. Dispensationalism emerged in the nineteenth century through the work of John Nelson Darby and was later popularized in North America through the Scofield Reference Bible and subsequent evangelical teaching traditions.23 At its core, dispensational theology divides redemptive history into a series of administrative eras, or “dispensations,” in which God relates to humanity through different covenantal arrangements. Within this system, a central theological distinction is maintained between ethnic Israel and the church. Israel is understood as the recipient of specific national and territorial promises that remain to be fulfilled in a future earthly kingdom, while the church is viewed as a distinct spiritual community temporarily occupying the present age.24

Within dispensational eschatology, much of the discussion revolves around the interpretation of the millennium described in Revelation 20 and the timing of key events associated with Christ’s return. Several major millennial frameworks have emerged in Christian theology. Premillennialism holds that Christ will return prior to the thousand-year reign described in Revelation 20, establishing a literal earthly kingdom. Postmillennialism interprets the millennium as a period of gospel expansion and cultural transformation that precedes Christ’s return. Amillennialism, by contrast, interprets the millennium symbolically, understanding the reign of Christ as presently realized through his exaltation and the life of the church rather than as a future political kingdom.25

Dispensational theology generally adopts a particular form of premillennialism that includes additional features such as a future tribulation period, the restoration of national Israel, and often a distinction between the rapture of the church and the visible return of Christ. Yet each of these interpretive models faces certain challenges when attempting to synthesize the diverse prophetic imagery found throughout Scripture. Premillennial approaches must wrestle with the highly symbolic nature of apocalyptic literature and the question of how literally such imagery should be interpreted. Postmillennialism faces historical questions regarding the trajectory of human history and the persistence of evil prior to the consummation of the kingdom. Amillennial interpretations must carefully articulate how symbolic readings of Revelation correspond with the broader biblical narrative concerning the future renewal of creation.26

While these frameworks provide helpful categories for organizing discussion, many scholars argue that the deeper theological questions cannot be resolved simply by arranging events along a chronological timeline. The interpretive difficulty often arises because apocalyptic literature—particularly the book of Revelation—communicates through symbolism, imagery, and theological vision rather than through straightforward predictive chronology.27 When Revelation is approached primarily as a coded sequence of future geopolitical events, interpreters frequently find themselves attempting to force symbolic imagery into rigid historical scenarios. This tendency has contributed to the proliferation of complex prophetic charts, speculative interpretations, and competing theories that often generate confusion rather than clarity.

For this reason, many contemporary scholars suggest that the primary weakness of dispensational frameworks lies not merely in their millennial timelines but in the interpretive assumptions that guide them. By insisting on a strict separation between Israel and the church and by reading apocalyptic imagery in an overly literalized manner, dispensational interpretations can sometimes obscure the broader theological message of Revelation. Instead of functioning as a pastoral and prophetic vision intended to encourage faithful witness under the reign of the risen Christ, the book is frequently transformed into a detailed forecast of future world events.28

Consequently, the question facing interpreters is not simply which millennial model best fits a prophetic timetable, but whether the underlying framework adequately accounts for the narrative unity of Scripture, the fulfillment of Israel’s story in the Messiah, and the symbolic nature of apocalyptic literature. It is precisely at this point that many scholars begin to question whether dispensational categories provide the most coherent lens through which to read the relationship between Israel, the church, and the book of Revelation.

A helpful way to visualize the interpretive issue surrounding biblical timelines can be seen in the prophetic structure of the book of Daniel. Daniel’s visions—particularly the seventy weeks prophecy in Daniel 9:24–27—present a remarkably structured chronological framework that many scholars understand as culminating in the events surrounding the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple in A.D. 70.29 Within this framework, Daniel’s symbolic chronology functions as a theological map of Israel’s history moving toward the climactic arrival of the Messiah and the judgment associated with the end of the temple-centered order.30 The prophetic timeline in Daniel is therefore closely tied to the historical trajectory of Israel leading into the first century.

Dispensational systems, however, frequently attempt to extend this same chronological structure into the distant future by introducing a prolonged “gap” between the sixty-ninth and seventieth weeks of Daniel’s prophecy. In this reading, the final week is relocated to a future tribulation period that remains disconnected from the historical context in which Daniel’s prophecy originally functioned. Yet many scholars argue that the biblical text itself provides no explicit indication of such an extended chronological interruption.31 Rather, the prophetic structure appears to move toward the climactic events surrounding the first-century culmination of Israel’s covenantal history.

The result is that while the biblical narrative provides remarkably detailed chronological symbolism leading up to the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70, the New Testament does not offer a comparable prophetic timeline extending beyond that event. Attempts to construct such frameworks often rely on speculative reconstructions that go beyond the explicit structure provided by the biblical text itself. For this reason, many interpreters suggest that the prophetic precision found in Daniel should be understood as historically anchored in the culmination of Israel’s temple era rather than as a template for mapping distant future events.

For readers who would like to see a visual explanation of this interpretive issue, the following lecture provides a concise overview of how Daniel’s prophetic timeline functions within the biblical narrative:

Video Overview:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Slrdreu2bdM

A central challenge in discussions of eschatology lies not simply in the interpretation of specific passages but in recognizing the literary genres through which those passages communicate their message. Much of the biblical material associated with the “end times” emerges from the tradition of apocalyptic literature, a genre that developed prominently within Second Temple Judaism and is characterized by symbolic imagery, visionary narratives, and theological depictions of cosmic conflict.32 Books such as Daniel and Revelation employ vivid metaphors, numerical symbolism, and highly stylized visions not primarily to construct chronological timetables but to reveal theological truths about God’s sovereignty, judgment, and the ultimate vindication of his people.

Because apocalyptic literature communicates through symbolic imagery rather than straightforward narrative description, careful attention must be given to its literary conventions. Interpreters who approach these texts as if they function like historical prose or predictive journalism often risk imposing a level of literal precision that the genre itself does not intend to convey.33 The beasts of Daniel and Revelation, the cosmic disturbances described in prophetic discourse, and the numerological patterns present throughout these texts frequently draw upon symbolic traditions rooted in the Hebrew Scriptures. Rather than referring directly to modern geopolitical events, these images function as theological symbols that depict the conflict between the kingdom of God and the forces of human empire.34

This principle becomes particularly important when examining passages that are often cited in discussions of the so-called “rapture.” One of the most frequently referenced texts is 1 Thessalonians 4:16–17, where Paul describes believers being “caught up” (ἁρπάζω, harpazō) to meet the Lord in the air. While this passage is sometimes interpreted as describing a secret removal of the church from the earth prior to a tribulation period, many scholars note that the imagery closely resembles the ancient practice of citizens going out to greet a visiting king or dignitary and escorting him back into the city.35 In this sense, the language may be better understood as depicting the public arrival of Christ and the participation of believers in his royal procession rather than a departure from the world altogether.

When apocalyptic imagery and pastoral exhortation are instead treated as components of a detailed prophetic timeline, interpretive difficulties quickly arise. Attempts to harmonize symbolic visions across multiple biblical books can lead to increasingly complex systems that rely on speculative connections between texts separated by centuries and written for very different historical audiences.36 This dynamic has often contributed to theological frameworks in which the imagery of Revelation becomes detached from its first-century context and transformed into a predictive chart of future geopolitical events.

For this reason, many contemporary interpreters argue that the most responsible approach to eschatological texts begins with genre sensitivity and historical context. Recognizing the symbolic nature of apocalyptic literature does not diminish its authority; rather, it allows the text to communicate its theological message as it was intended. The visions of Revelation are therefore best understood as prophetic and pastoral revelations designed to encourage faithfulness among believers living within the pressures of imperial power, reminding them that the risen Christ already reigns and that the ultimate victory of God’s kingdom is assured.37

When this genre-sensitive approach is maintained, many of the speculative debates surrounding prophetic timelines lose their central importance. The focus of biblical eschatology shifts away from deciphering hidden codes about the future and toward the theological hope that stands at the heart of the New Testament: the reign of the risen Messiah and the eventual renewal of creation under his lordship.

A further interpretive challenge in reading the book of Revelation concerns how the visions within the text are structured. Many modern interpretations—particularly those influenced by dispensational frameworks—tend to read Revelation as a strict chronological timeline, assuming that the seals, trumpets, and bowls represent a sequential series of future events unfolding one after another. Yet a growing number of scholars argue that the literary structure of Revelation is better understood through the principle of recapitulation, in which the same period of history is described multiple times through different symbolic visions.38 In this view, the cycles of seals (Rev. 6–8), trumpets (Rev. 8–11), and bowls (Rev. 15–16) do not represent successive disasters but rather parallel portrayals of the ongoing conflict between the kingdom of God and the forces of evil.

This pattern is consistent with the broader conventions of apocalyptic literature, where visionary sequences often revisit the same events from different perspectives in order to emphasize theological meaning rather than chronological precision.39 Similar narrative patterns appear in the book of Daniel, where successive visions describe the rise and fall of kingdoms using different symbolic imagery while referring to the same historical realities. The book of Revelation appears to adopt this same literary strategy, presenting multiple visionary cycles that progressively intensify the depiction of divine judgment and redemption.

Understanding this recapitulating structure helps explain why several visions appear to culminate in scenes that resemble the final judgment or the end of the age, even though additional visions follow afterward. For example, both the seventh trumpet and the final bowl judgments appear to describe cosmic upheaval associated with the completion of God’s purposes (Rev. 11:15–19; 16:17–21).40 Rather than indicating multiple “ends of the world,” these repeated climactic scenes suggest that Revelation is retelling the same ultimate victory of God from different vantage points.

Recognizing this literary pattern also helps guard against the tendency to construct elaborate prophetic timelines from symbolic imagery. When the book is read as a recapitulating series of visions rather than a linear chronological sequence, the focus shifts away from predicting specific future events and toward understanding the theological message of the text: the assurance that despite the recurring conflicts of history, the Lamb who was slain ultimately reigns over the powers of the world.41 The purpose of Revelation, therefore, is not to provide a detailed prophetic calendar but to reveal the deeper spiritual reality behind the struggles faced by God’s people and to encourage faithful endurance in every generation.

Within many popular dispensational frameworks, certain figures described in apocalyptic texts—particularly the Antichrist, the Beast, and the Great Tribulation—are often interpreted as singular future events or individuals who will appear at the very end of history. While such readings have become widespread in modern evangelical culture, they are not necessarily the most consistent interpretation when the relevant passages are examined within their historical and literary contexts. A careful reading of the New Testament suggests that these concepts may function less as predictions of a single future individual and more as theological descriptions of recurring patterns of opposition to God’s reign.

The term “antichrist” itself appears only in the Johannine epistles and not in the book of Revelation. Significantly, the language used in these passages already suggests a broader category rather than a single end-time figure. First John states plainly: “you have heard that antichrist is coming, so now many antichrists have come” (1 John 2:18).42 In this context, the term refers to individuals or movements that deny the identity and mission of Jesus as the Messiah. The emphasis, therefore, is not on identifying a single future ruler but on recognizing a recurring pattern of ideological and spiritual opposition to Christ throughout history.

Similarly, the figure of the Beast in Revelation is best interpreted within the symbolic framework of apocalyptic literature. The imagery of monstrous beasts already appears in Daniel 7, where the beasts represent successive empires that oppose the purposes of God.43 Revelation appears to draw heavily upon this earlier imagery, suggesting that the Beast functions as a symbolic representation of imperial power that demands allegiance in opposition to God’s kingdom. Many scholars therefore see a clear historical reference to the Roman imperial system, particularly during the period of persecution faced by early Christians.44 Within this context, the notorious number 666 may function as a cryptic reference to the Roman emperor Nero through a practice known as gematria, in which letters correspond to numerical values.45 While Nero may represent the most immediate historical embodiment of this imagery, the symbolism of the Beast also transcends any single ruler, representing political systems and powers that continually seek to rival divine authority.

A similar interpretive principle applies to the concept of tribulation. Within some modern frameworks, the “Great Tribulation” is treated as a distinct future seven-year period preceding the return of Christ. Yet the New Testament frequently portrays tribulation as a recurring feature of the Christian experience rather than as a single isolated event. Jesus himself tells his followers, “In the world you will have tribulation” (John 16:33), and the early church repeatedly experiences suffering, persecution, and hardship throughout the book of Acts and the epistles.46 In this sense, tribulation is not confined to a single moment in the distant future but characterizes the ongoing tension between the kingdom of God and the powers of the world across history.

These observations point toward a broader issue in the interpretation of biblical prophecy. In the modern imagination, prophecy is often treated as though it functions like a predictive map of distant future events. Yet within the biblical tradition, prophets were not primarily fortune-tellers attempting to decode future timelines. Rather, they were individuals who understood the character and purposes of God and who spoke into their present historical circumstances with theological clarity.47 Their role was not to provide a kind of divine “crystal ball” but to interpret history through the lens of God’s covenant faithfulness and to call God’s people back to faithful obedience.

Indeed, the attempt to access hidden knowledge about the future through mystical or predictive techniques is explicitly condemned within the biblical tradition as divination (Deut. 18:10–12). Biblical prophecy therefore operates in a fundamentally different mode. Instead of offering secret knowledge about distant events, it reveals how God’s character and covenant purposes are unfolding within history. When apocalyptic imagery is forced into rigid predictive frameworks, interpreters may unintentionally shift toward the very type of speculative future-seeking that the biblical tradition itself warns against.

For this reason, many contemporary scholars emphasize that the symbolic figures of Revelation—the Antichrist, the Beast, and the experience of tribulation—should be understood as theological patterns that recur wherever human power seeks to rival the authority of God. Rather than encouraging believers to scan the horizon for a single future villain or catastrophic moment, the book of Revelation calls its readers to faithful endurance in every age, reminding them that the risen Christ ultimately reigns over the forces of history.48

As interpreters wrestle with the difficulties of dispensational timelines and overly literalized readings of apocalyptic imagery, many have turned toward preterist interpretations of biblical prophecy. The term preterist comes from the Latin praeter, meaning “past,” and refers broadly to approaches that understand many prophetic passages—particularly those in the Gospels, Daniel, and Revelation—as referring primarily to events that occurred in the first century, especially the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple in A.D. 70.49 Within this general category, however, there are important distinctions that must be carefully considered.

Full preterism argues that nearly all eschatological prophecies—including the return of Christ, the resurrection of the dead, and the final judgment—were fulfilled in a spiritual or symbolic sense in the first century. In this reading, events surrounding the Jewish–Roman War and the destruction of Jerusalem represent the climactic fulfillment of New Testament eschatology. While this view attempts to take seriously the numerous time-indicators in the New Testament that speak of events occurring “soon” or within the lifetime of the original audience (e.g., Matt. 24:34; Rev. 1:1), many theologians have raised concerns that full preterism risks collapsing central elements of Christian hope—particularly the bodily resurrection and the final renewal of creation—into purely symbolic realities.50 For this reason, full preterism remains a minority position and is often regarded by many scholars as extending its conclusions beyond what the biblical text can sustain.

At the same time, the historical events of the first century raise questions that make it difficult to ignore the relevance of that period for understanding New Testament prophecy. The catastrophic destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70 marked the end of the temple-centered system that had defined Israel’s religious life for centuries. Contemporary historical accounts, particularly those recorded by the Jewish historian Josephus, describe the immense suffering and upheaval that accompanied the Roman siege.51 Stories from the same historical period—including the dramatic events surrounding the fall of Masada, where nearly nine hundred Jewish rebels are said to have died before Roman forces captured the fortress—have occasionally prompted theological reflection about how God’s people experienced those moments of crisis.52 While such historical episodes cannot be used as definitive proof of particular prophetic fulfillments, they do highlight the extraordinary historical context in which the early Christian movement understood the words of Jesus concerning Jerusalem’s impending judgment.

For many interpreters, these observations make partial preterism an attractive middle position. Partial preterism maintains that many prophetic passages—especially those relating to the destruction of Jerusalem and the collapse of the temple system—were indeed fulfilled in the first century. However, it also affirms that the ultimate return of Christ, the resurrection of the dead, and the final renewal of creation remain future realities.53 In this framework, the events surrounding A.D. 70 represent a decisive turning point in redemptive history and a powerful validation of Jesus’ prophetic warnings, while still preserving the forward-looking hope that lies at the heart of Christian eschatology.

Such an approach aligns with a growing number of scholars who argue that the New Testament frequently speaks into the immediate historical circumstances of the early church while simultaneously pointing toward the ultimate consummation of God’s kingdom. The prophetic language of the New Testament therefore often contains both historical immediacy and eschatological horizon, addressing events relevant to the first-century audience while also sustaining the church’s ongoing expectation of Christ’s return.54

For these reasons, it may be unhelpful to rigidly align with any single eschatological label. Terms such as dispensationalism, preterism, amillennialism, or postmillennialism often function as interpretive shorthand rather than comprehensive explanations of the biblical narrative. While each framework contributes important insights, none entirely captures the full complexity of the scriptural witness. What matters most is allowing the biblical texts to speak within their historical, literary, and theological contexts, recognizing both the profound significance of the first-century events surrounding Jerusalem and the continuing hope that Christians place in the final return of Christ and the renewal of all things.

Another important dimension of Revelation that has gained significant attention in modern scholarship is its function as prophetic resistance literature directed against imperial power, particularly the Roman Empire of the first century. Rather than presenting a coded prediction of distant geopolitical events, many scholars argue that Revelation addresses the immediate pressures faced by early Christians living within a world shaped by Roman imperial ideology. In the Roman world, the emperor was often portrayed as a divine ruler who brought peace and salvation to the empire, and public loyalty to the emperor was expressed through civic rituals, economic participation, and occasional acts of emperor worship.55 Against this backdrop, the imagery of Revelation—particularly its portrayal of the Beast and Babylon—functions as a theological critique of empire. Babylon, described as a seductive yet oppressive power dominating the nations, is widely understood to symbolize Rome and the economic and political systems that sustained its authority.56 The book’s vivid symbolism therefore exposes the moral and spiritual dangers of imperial power that demands ultimate allegiance from humanity. By portraying Rome as a beastly empire in contrast to the true kingship of Christ, Revelation calls believers to resist assimilation into imperial ideology and instead remain faithful to the Lamb, even in the face of persecution or social marginalization.57 In this sense, Revelation is less a speculative map of future world events and more a prophetic unveiling of how political and economic powers can become idolatrous when they claim authority that belongs only to God. The message of the book, therefore, is not fear of the future but faithful resistance in the present, reminding the church that the risen Christ—not any earthly empire—is the true ruler of the world.

This imperial critique also highlights a deeper theological tension that runs throughout Scripture: the question of ultimate allegiance. The kingdoms of the world regularly present themselves as rival claimants to authority, offering security, identity, and prosperity in exchange for loyalty. Revelation exposes this dynamic by portraying empire as a competing kingdom demanding devotion that properly belongs to God alone. In this sense, the challenge facing the early church was not merely political oppression but a spiritual conflict over loyalty—whether believers would give their allegiance to Caesar or remain faithful to the Lamb. The teaching of Jesus himself echoes this tension, warning that “no one can serve two masters” (Matt. 6:24). The vision of Revelation therefore calls the church to recognize that every empire ultimately functions as a rival nation competing for the loyalty of humanity. Christians are summoned to a different kind of citizenship—one grounded not in the power structures of earthly kingdoms but in the reign of King Jesus, whose authority transcends all national, political, and economic systems.

A significant feature of many dispensational frameworks is the expectation that the end times will involve the rebuilding of a third temple in Jerusalem, the restoration of national Israel as the central locus of God’s activity, and the reestablishment of sacrificial worship within that temple. These expectations are often tied to interpretations of prophetic passages in Daniel, Ezekiel, and Revelation. Yet when these texts are read in light of the New Testament’s theological development, serious questions arise regarding whether such expectations align with the trajectory of the biblical narrative.

One of the most striking shifts in the New Testament concerns the theological redefinition of the temple. In the Gospels, Jesus himself reorients the meaning of the temple by identifying his own body as the true dwelling place of God (John 2:19–21).58 The temple in Jerusalem, once understood as the central location of God’s presence among his people, becomes a sign pointing forward to the incarnate presence of God in Christ. Following the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, this theological movement continues as the New Testament describes the community of believers as the new temple in which God’s Spirit dwells. Paul writes that the church collectively constitutes “God’s temple” and that the Holy Spirit now resides within that community (1 Cor. 3:16–17; Eph. 2:19–22).59

Within this framework, the expectation of a restored temple-centered sacrificial system becomes theologically difficult to reconcile with the New Testament’s presentation of Christ’s completed atoning work. The epistle to the Hebrews repeatedly emphasizes that Jesus’ sacrificial offering is both final and sufficient, rendering the earlier sacrificial system obsolete (Heb. 9:11–14; 10:11–18).60 For this reason, many interpreters argue that anticipating a renewed temple with sacrificial practices would represent not a fulfillment of the New Testament vision but a regression to a form of worship that the New Testament itself declares fulfilled in Christ.

Closely related to this issue is the question of Israel’s role within the messianic community. Dispensational interpretations frequently maintain a sharp distinction between Israel and the church, suggesting that God’s promises to Israel remain to be fulfilled through a future national restoration centered in the land of Israel. Yet the New Testament often presents a more integrated picture of God’s covenant people. In passages such as Romans 11, Paul describes Gentile believers as being grafted into the existing covenant tree of Israel, indicating continuity rather than separation between Israel and the multinational community formed through faith in Christ.61 The language of covenant identity is therefore expanded rather than replaced, encompassing all who participate in the messianic faithfulness revealed in Jesus.

This perspective reflects the broader New Testament conviction that the promises given to Israel ultimately find their fulfillment in the Messiah himself. The apostolic writings consistently portray Jesus as the culmination of Israel’s story and the one through whom God’s covenant purposes are extended to the nations (Gal. 3:26–29).62 In this sense, the people of God are defined not primarily by ethnic or territorial boundaries but by allegiance to the risen Messiah. The community gathered around Christ therefore represents the continuation and expansion of Israel’s covenant identity rather than its replacement.

These theological developments also call into question the assumption that the final consummation of God’s kingdom must necessarily involve a geopolitical restoration centered in the modern nation-state of Israel. While the New Testament may affirm the ongoing significance of Israel within the story of redemption, it simultaneously emphasizes that the reign of the Messiah transcends geographic boundaries. The kingdom inaugurated through Jesus is presented as a universal reality extending to all nations rather than as a localized political kingdom limited to a specific territory.63

Consequently, the central focus of Christian eschatological hope is not the reconstruction of a temple or the reestablishment of a national kingdom but the return of the risen Christ himself. Jesus repeatedly teaches that the timing of this event remains unknown to humanity, emphasizing that “about that day and hour no one knows” (Matt. 24:36).64 The posture encouraged by the New Testament is therefore one of faithful readiness rather than speculative prediction.

In this light, the expectation of Christ’s return should not be tied to the necessity of specific geopolitical developments or architectural projects in Jerusalem. While it remains possible that future events involving Israel may play a role within God’s unfolding purposes, the New Testament does not present such developments as prerequisites for the return of Christ. Instead, the emphasis remains firmly fixed on the person of Jesus himself—the enthroned Messiah whose kingdom already extends across the nations and whose ultimate return will bring the renewal of all things.

If the preceding discussion cautions against speculative timelines and rigid eschatological systems, the New Testament ultimately directs the church toward a different posture—one of faithful expectation. The central image used to describe this posture is the relationship between Christ and his bride, the church. Throughout the New Testament, the people of God are portrayed as those who await the return of the Messiah not through anxious calculation of prophetic events but through lives marked by devotion, perseverance, and faithful witness.65 The imagery culminates in Revelation, where the final vision of Scripture depicts the union of Christ and his people within the renewed creation: “Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb” (Rev. 19:9).

This posture reflects what many theologians describe as the “already and not yet” character of the kingdom of God. Through the death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus, the reign of the Messiah has already been inaugurated. Christ is presently enthroned at the right hand of the Father, exercising authority over heaven and earth.66 Yet the full manifestation of that reign—the complete restoration of creation and the final defeat of evil—remains a future reality. The New Testament therefore portrays the present age as a period in which the kingdom has begun but has not yet reached its ultimate consummation.

Within this framework, the mission of the church takes on profound significance. The people of God are not passive observers waiting for the end of history; they are participants in God’s ongoing work of renewal within the world. The biblical story that began in Genesis with humanity’s vocation to cultivate and steward creation continues through the church’s participation in the kingdom inaugurated by Christ.67 Believers become, in a very real sense, the embodied presence of Christ within the world—living signs of the coming renewal of creation.

This vision is captured powerfully in the language of partnership that runs throughout Scripture. Humanity was originally created to reflect God’s image and to steward the earth in communion with him (Gen. 1:26–28). The redemptive work of Christ does not abolish this vocation but restores and deepens it. Through the Spirit, the church becomes a community that participates in God’s ongoing work of reclaiming the world—anticipating the future renewal of creation by embodying the life of the kingdom in the present.68

Some theologians have described this calling in terms of the beauty of the believing community. The church is meant to function as a visible sign of the kingdom—a community whose life together reflects the character of Christ and draws others into the transforming reality of God’s grace.69 In this sense, Christian mission is not merely the transmission of doctrinal propositions but the cultivation of a community whose shared life reveals the beauty of God’s kingdom.

The culmination of this story, however, extends beyond a simple return to Eden. The biblical vision of the future is not merely a restoration of the original garden but the emergence of a renewed heaven and earth in which God’s presence fills the entirety of creation (Rev. 21–22). The imagery of the New Jerusalem suggests that the story moves not backward toward a primitive beginning but forward toward a transformed creation where the purposes of God for humanity are fully realized.70 What began as a garden becomes a renewed cosmos in which heaven and earth are finally united.

In this light, the church’s task in the present age becomes clearer. Rather than anxiously attempting to decode prophetic timelines, the people of God are called to live faithfully within the story that has already begun through the resurrection of Jesus. The church waits not with fear but with hope, not with speculation but with devotion. As the bride awaiting the return of her king, the community of believers lives in faithful anticipation—participating even now in the work of renewal that will one day be completed when Christ returns and all things are made new.

The aim of this exploration has not been to construct a rigid eschatological system or to settle every interpretive debate surrounding the end times. Scripture itself resists such reduction. Rather, the biblical witness consistently directs the church away from speculative timelines and toward a posture of faithful anticipation grounded in the reign of the risen Christ. The New Testament proclaims that Jesus has already been enthroned as king through his death, resurrection, and ascension, inaugurating the kingdom of God within history.71 Yet it also affirms that the full restoration of creation—the ultimate reconciliation of heaven and earth—remains a future reality toward which the entire biblical narrative moves.

This tension between fulfillment and anticipation is often described as the “already and not yet” of the kingdom. Christ reigns now, and his kingdom is already present wherever his authority is acknowledged and embodied. At the same time, the world still groans for the day when that reign will be fully revealed and all creation will be renewed.72 Within this unfolding story, the church occupies a profoundly meaningful role. The people of God are not passive observers waiting for history to conclude; they are participants in the ongoing work of God’s kingdom, serving as visible witnesses to the reign of Christ within the present world.

In this sense, the church becomes the place where heaven begins to touch earth. Through the presence of the Holy Spirit, believers embody the character of the kingdom in tangible ways—through justice, mercy, reconciliation, and sacrificial love. The prayer Jesus taught his disciples captures this vision clearly: “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matt. 6:10). The mission of the church is therefore not merely to wait for heaven but to participate in the movement of heaven coming to earth through lives that reflect the authority and beauty of King Jesus.73

The final chapters of Revelation reveal that the culmination of God’s story is not an escape from creation but its transformation. John’s vision depicts the New Jerusalem descending from heaven, symbolizing the union of the divine and human realms under the reign of God (Rev. 21:1–3). The biblical story thus moves forward toward a renewed heaven and earth where the presence of God fills all things. What began in the garden of Eden culminates not simply in a return to that garden but in the emergence of a restored creation where the purposes of God for humanity are fully realized.74

This vision reshapes how Christians live in the present. The church exists as the foretaste of the coming kingdom, a community whose life together reveals the beauty of God’s reign and invites the world to participate in it. Through acts of faithfulness, compassion, and creative stewardship, believers participate in the restoration of the world that God has begun through Christ. The vocation first given to humanity—to cultivate and steward creation as God’s image-bearers—is restored and deepened through the work of the Spirit within the church.

The end of the biblical story, therefore, is not one of fear or catastrophe but of joyful anticipation. The people of God await the return of their king as a bride awaiting her bridegroom. History moves steadily toward the great wedding feast of the Lamb, where heaven and earth will be fully united and the reign of Christ will be revealed in its fullness.75 Until that day, the church lives faithfully within the story—participating even now in the movement of the kingdom as the life of heaven continues to break into the world through the people of God.

Christian hope, then, is not centered on escaping the world but on witnessing its renewal. The church lives between resurrection and restoration, between the enthronement of Christ and the day when every corner of creation will reflect his glory. And in that space, the people of God continue their calling—bringing the life of the kingdom from heaven to earth as living reflections of the reign of Jesus.

NEXT STEPS: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLqaMIwzEBwbMYak8X3da28QtOwC5j3wkF&si=sQsKEgEuCx-CgQP8

  1. N. T. Wright — Wright critiques popular evangelical end-times speculation and reframes Christian hope in resurrection and new creation. ↩︎
  2. Craig R. Koester — a respected scholarly treatment of Revelation’s historical and literary context. ↩︎
  3. John F. Walvoord — classic dispensational argument for premillennialism. ↩︎
  4. George Eldon Ladd — historic premillennial perspective emphasizing inaugurated eschatology. ↩︎
  5. Scot McKnight — accessible but academically informed interpretation of Revelation’s theology. ↩︎
  6. G. K. Beale — major scholarly commentary emphasizing symbolic and Old Testament background. ↩︎
  7. Anthony A. Hoekema — influential amillennial treatment of eschatology. ↩︎
  8. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 7–12. ↩︎
  9. G. K. Beale, A New Testament Biblical Theology: The Unfolding of the Old Testament in the New (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 81–96. ↩︎
  10. N. T. Wright, Paul and the Faithfulness of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2013), 789–798. ↩︎
  11. Christopher J. H. Wright, The Mission of God: Unlocking the Bible’s Grand Narrative (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2006), 193–205. ↩︎
  12. Michael S. Heiser, The Unseen Realm: Recovering the Supernatural Worldview of the Bible (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2015), 113–123; Patrick D. Miller, Deuteronomy (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1990), 267–270. ↩︎
  13. G. K. Beale, A New Testament Biblical Theology: The Unfolding of the Old Testament in the New (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 192–199; Christopher J. H. Wright, The Mission of God (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2006), 199–207. ↩︎
  14. Craig S. Keener, Acts: An Exegetical Commentary, vol. 1 (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2012), 789–801; N. T. Wright, Acts for Everyone, Part 1 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2008), 22–27. ↩︎
  15. Walter Brueggemann, First and Second Samuel (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1990), 60–65. ↩︎
  16. John Goldingay, Old Testament Theology: Israel’s Faith, vol. 2 (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2006), 406–414. ↩︎
  17. Daniel I. Block, The Gospel according to Moses: Theological and Ethical Reflections on the Book of Deuteronomy (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2012), 53–60. ↩︎
  18. Scot McKnight, Revelation for the Rest of Us (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2023), 21–28.Scot McKnight, Revelation for the Rest of Us (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2023), 21–28. ↩︎
  19. N. T. Wright, Paul and the Faithfulness of God, 1235–1244. ↩︎
  20. George Eldon Ladd, A Theology of the New Testament, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 314–318. ↩︎
  21. Craig S. Keener, Acts: An Exegetical Commentary, vol. 1 (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2012), 946–952 ↩︎
  22. Steve Gregg, Revelation: Four Views, 2nd ed. (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2013), 17–33. ↩︎
  23. Craig A. Blaising and Darrell L. Bock, Progressive Dispensationalism (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 1993), 9–24. ↩︎
  24. Michael J. Vlach, Dispensationalism: Essential Beliefs and Common Myths (Los Angeles: Theological Studies Press, 2008), 27–39. ↩︎
  25. George Eldon Ladd, The Presence of the Future (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974), 17–40; Anthony A. Hoekema, The Bible and the Future (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979), 173–201. ↩︎
  26. Steve Gregg, Revelation: Four Views, 2nd ed. (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2013), 17–54. ↩︎
  27. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 1–17. ↩︎
  28. Scot McKnight, Revelation for the Rest of Us (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2023), 9–18. ↩︎
  29. John J. Collins, Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 349–361 ↩︎
  30. N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996), 339–368. ↩︎
  31. G. K. Beale, A New Testament Biblical Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 131–140; Craig S. Keener, The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament, 2nd ed. (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2014), 447–449. ↩︎
  32. John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016), 5–12. ↩︎
  33. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 6–12. ↩︎
  34. G. K. Beale, The Book of Revelation: A Commentary on the Greek Text (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 48–56. ↩︎
  35. N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope (New York: HarperOne, 2008), 132–135; Gordon D. Fee, The First and Second Letters to the Thessalonians (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 178–181. ↩︎
  36. Craig R. Koester, Revelation and the End of All Things, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018), 25–33. ↩︎
  37. Scot McKnight, Revelation for the Rest of Us (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2023), 14–22. ↩︎
  38. G. K. Beale, The Book of Revelation: A Commentary on the Greek Text (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 115–119. ↩︎
  39. John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016), 8–12. ↩︎
  40. Grant R. Osborne, Revelation (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2002), 403–407. ↩︎
  41. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 7–10. ↩︎
  42. Raymond E. Brown, The Epistles of John (New York: Doubleday, 1982), 332–336. ↩︎
  43. John J. Collins, Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 277–283 ↩︎
  44. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 35–42. ↩︎
  45. Craig R. Koester, Revelation and the End of All Things, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018), 123–128. ↩︎
  46. George Eldon Ladd, The Presence of the Future (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974), 325–331. ↩︎
  47. Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination, 2nd ed. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001), 3–19. ↩︎
  48. Scot McKnight, Revelation for the Rest of Us (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2023), 87–96. ↩︎
  49. Steve Gregg, Revelation: Four Views, 2nd ed. (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2013), 54–67. ↩︎
  50. Kenneth L. Gentry Jr., Before Jerusalem Fell: Dating the Book of Revelation (Powder Springs, GA: American Vision, 1998), 33–45; Craig R. Koester, Revelation and the End of All Things, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018), 34–38. ↩︎
  51. Flavius Josephus, The Jewish War, trans. G. A. Williamson (London: Penguin Classics, 1981), 5.1–5.13. ↩︎
  52. Jodi Magness, Masada: From Jewish Revolt to Modern Myth (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2019), 115–128. ↩︎
  53. R. C. Sproul, The Last Days according to Jesus (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 1998), 158–174. ↩︎
  54. N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996), 339–368. ↩︎
  55. Craig R. Koester, Revelation and the End of All Things, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018), 89–96. ↩︎
  56. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 35–43. ↩︎
  57. Shane J. Wood, Thinning the Veil: Revelation and the Kingdom of Heaven (Joplin, MO: College Press, 2013), 111–119. ↩︎
  58. Craig R. Koester, The Dwelling of God: The Tabernacle in the Old Testament, Intertestamental Jewish Literature, and the New Testament (Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association, 1989), 139–145. ↩︎
  59. G. K. Beale, The Temple and the Church’s Mission (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2004), 195–210. ↩︎
  60. David M. Moffitt, Atonement and the Logic of Resurrection in the Epistle to the Hebrews (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 215–228. ↩︎
  61. N. T. Wright, Paul and the Faithfulness of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2013), 1235–1248. ↩︎
  62. Richard B. Hays, Echoes of Scripture in the Letters of Paul (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989), 84–98. ↩︎
  63. George Eldon Ladd, A Theology of the New Testament, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 111–119. ↩︎
  64. R. T. France, The Gospel of Matthew (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 932–934. ↩︎
  65. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 129–136. ↩︎
  66. George Eldon Ladd, The Presence of the Future (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974), 218–224. ↩︎
  67. G. K. Beale, A New Testament Biblical Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 744–756. ↩︎
  68. Shane J. Wood, Thinning the Veil (Joplin, MO: College Press, 2013), 181–189. ↩︎
  69. Brian Zahnd, Beauty Will Save the World (Colorado Springs: David C. Cook, 2012), 57–74. ↩︎
  70. N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope (New York: HarperOne, 2008), 104–115. ↩︎
  71. George Eldon Ladd, A Theology of the New Testament, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 111–119 ↩︎
  72. N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope (New York: HarperOne, 2008), 104–115. ↩︎
  73. Shane J. Wood, Thinning the Veil (Joplin, MO: College Press, 2013), 181–189. ↩︎
  74. G. K. Beale, A New Testament Biblical Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 744–756. ↩︎
  75. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 132–139. ↩︎

Marriage Intimacy – Conference Notes

Marriage in the biblical sense is not merely a social contract or a partnership; it is a sacred covenant—a divinely instituted bond that mirrors God’s covenant love with His people. The Hebrew term berith (בְּרִית) denotes a solemn, binding agreement, marked not only by promises but by loyalty, faithfulness, and mutual self-giving. In the New Testament, this covenantal reality is deepened through Christ, who embodies sacrificial love (agape, ἀγάπη) that calls spouses to serve one another in humility and grace (Ephesians 5:21–33).

At the heart of covenant intimacy is oneness. Genesis 2:24 provides the foundational paradigm: “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh” (yada’, יָדַע). This “knowing” is both relational and sexual, reflecting the full depth of emotional, spiritual, and physical unity. The Hebrew concept carries intentionality: to truly know is to commit, to enter into the mystery of the other in trust and vulnerability.


Intimacy begins in the soul. Couples are called to cultivate mutual transparency, confession, and encouragement, echoing the pastoral model of discipleship. Paul’s admonition in Ephesians 4:32—“Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you”—offers a template for relational healing.

Practical Steps:

  • Regular Spiritual Check-ins: Set aside time weekly to share personal spiritual victories, struggles, and prayers. This mirrors the Jewish practice of hevruta, spiritual partnership, applied to marriage.
  • Scripture Sharing: Read passages together that emphasize covenant faithfulness, such as Hosea 2:19–20 or Song of Solomon 2:16. Discuss what it means to love sacrificially in the context of God’s covenant.

Example: A husband and wife may take a Psalm each week, reflecting on God’s steadfast love (chesed, חֶסֶד), and share how it encourages them to act faithfully toward one another.


Sexual intimacy in marriage is not a mere physical act but a profound covenantal sign. Paul’s instruction in 1 Corinthians 7:3–5 emphasizes mutual authority over one another’s bodies, highlighting consent, desire, and attentive love. The Greek word soma (σῶμα) underscores the body as integral to relational unity, not separate from spiritual or emotional connection.

Practical Steps:

  • Intentional Touch and Affection: Beyond sexual encounters, daily gestures of touch—holding hands, gentle hugs, and affirming kisses—strengthen the sense of oneness.
  • Sexual Rhythm and Communication: Like cultivating agape, sexual intimacy benefits from intentionality, listening, and mutual understanding rather than routine or obligation.

Example: A couple may schedule regular “covenant nights” where the focus is on emotional closeness first, leading into physical intimacy, emphasizing the full scope of knowing (yada’) one another.


Covenantal intimacy is tested in conflict and broken trust. The Hebrew Scriptures often illustrate covenant repair through rituals of atonement, dialogue, and restoration (e.g., Numbers 5:5–10). In a marriage, bitterness or resentment acts as a barrier to oneness. Forgiveness is the vessel through which intimacy is restored.

Practical Steps:

  • Transparent Apologies: Use “I statements” to express hurt without blame. Example: “I felt distant when…”
  • Record-Free Covenant Keeping: Avoid keeping mental “ledgers” of wrongs. Instead, mirror God’s forgiveness (Colossians 3:13).
  • Counseling as Shepherding: Pastoral or Christian counseling can provide structured guidance in rebuilding trust.

Example: After a major disagreement, a couple may intentionally pray together, verbally affirming mutual commitment to repair and trust, creating a spiritual as well as relational healing.


Hebrew and Christian traditions often employ ritual as a tangible expression of covenant faithfulness. Small but intentional practices cultivate relational memory and reinforce unity.

Practical Steps:

  • Weekly Covenant Meals: Sharing intentional meals without distraction, reflecting on God’s covenant with each other, mirrors the covenantal feasts of Israel.
  • Anniversary Reflections: Beyond gifts, reflecting on God’s faithfulness through marriage fosters gratitude and spiritual depth.
  • Shared Devotional Practices: Singing, prayer, or journaling together enhances both spiritual and emotional oneness.

Example: A couple may light a candle each week, reading Song of Solomon 8:6–7, symbolizing love as a flame strengthened by trust and God’s covenant presence.


Covenant intimacy in marriage is a dynamic, God-centered pursuit. It is not achieved merely through techniques but through a sustained commitment to oneness—emotional, spiritual, and physical—modeled on Christ’s sacrificial love. Couples who approach marriage as a covenant discover that intimacy grows from shared vulnerability, forgiveness, and disciplined love. As shepherds of one another’s hearts, husbands and wives reflect the divine covenant in ways that are both deeply relational and spiritually formative.

  1. Oneness and Covenant Theology
    • Genesis 2:24 emphasizes the couple becoming “one flesh” (yada’, יָדַע). How does this Hebrew concept of “knowing” inform our understanding of emotional, spiritual, and physical intimacy in marriage?
    • In what ways can modern couples cultivate “oneness” beyond physical intimacy, reflecting covenant faithfulness in daily life?
    • Discuss practical ways to apply the biblical model of covenant to repair relational breaches or build deeper trust.
  2. Spiritual Intimacy and Discipleship in Marriage
    • Ephesians 5:21–33 and Colossians 3:12–14 call for mutual submission, forgiveness, and love. How does viewing marriage as a context for mutual discipleship transform conflict resolution, emotional vulnerability, and spiritual growth?
    • Share examples of habits, practices, or rituals that encourage spiritual intimacy and accountability within your marriage.
  3. Physical Intimacy as Covenant Expression
    • 1 Corinthians 7:3–5 presents the body as a shared authority (soma, σῶμα) within marriage. How does this concept challenge or expand contemporary cultural understandings of sexual intimacy?
    • Discuss how intentionality, communication, and mutual consent can enhance covenantal physical intimacy, making it both relational and spiritual.
  4. Forgiveness, Reconciliation, and Covenant Repair
    • Reflect on biblical examples of covenant restoration (e.g., Hosea’s marriage as metaphor, Numbers 5:5–10). How do forgiveness and transparent apology function as practical and spiritual tools to rebuild intimacy?
    • What are the barriers in your own context to practicing “record-free” covenant-keeping, and how might couples cultivate an environment of grace and restoration?
  5. Ritual, Memory, and Symbolic Practices
    • How do small, intentional practices (shared meals, anniversary reflections, devotional rituals) reinforce covenantal intimacy?
    • Explore the relationship between symbolic acts and emotional memory. How can couples adapt biblical ritual principles (berith, בְּרִית) to cultivate ongoing intimacy in their marriage today?

  1. Brueggemann, Walter. Genesis: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching. Westminster John Knox Press, 2010.
  2. Longman III, Tremper. Song of Solomon: An Introduction and Commentary. IVP Academic, 2001.
  3. Goldingay, John. Old Testament Theology, Volume 1: Israel’s Gospel. InterVarsity Press, 2003.
  4. Fee, Gordon D., and Douglas Stuart. How to Read the Bible for All Its Worth. 5th ed., Zondervan, 2014.
  5. Perrotta, Kevin, and Louise Perrotta. Oneness: Jesus’ Vision of Marriage. 2024.
  6. Gregoire, Sheila, and Dr. Keith Gregoire. The Marriage You Want: Moving Beyond Stereotypes for a Relationship Built on Scripture, New Data, and Emotional Health. 2025.
  7. Reynolds, Adrian, and Celia Reynolds. Closer: A Realistic Book About Intimacy for Christian Marriages. 2021.
  8. Konzen, Dr. Jennifer. The Art of Intimate Marriage: A Christian Couple’s Guide to Sexual Intimacy. 2016.
  9. Westermann, Claus. Genesis 12–36: A Commentary. Augsburg Fortress, 1985.
  10. Packer, J. I. Knowing God. IVP, 1973. (for theological foundations of covenant love)

  • Kevin and Louise Perrotta, Oneness: Jesus’ Vision of Marriage. 2024.
  • Adrian Reynolds & Celia Reynolds, Closer: A Realistic Book About Intimacy for Christian Marriages. 2021.
  • Sheila & Dr. Keith Gregoire, The Marriage You Want. 2025.
  • Dr. Jennifer Konzen, The Art of Intimate Marriage. 2016.
  • Emerson Eggerichs, Love & Respect: The Love She Most Desires; The Respect He Desperately Needs. 2004.
  • Timothy Keller & Kathy Keller, The Meaning of Marriage: Facing the Complexities of Commitment with the Wisdom of God. 2011.

Messianic Seder

The Passover elements symbolize God’s character and retell the story of our liberation from the forces of the fallen world.

Passover is a beautiful and highly symbolic celebration. More than any other festival (right or wrong), it has been at the heart of the universal Jewish experience, helping to form the core of spiritual identity and pointing inexorably toward the hope of Israel’s salvation.1

Each year the date of Passover slightly changes on the Gregorian calendar. The Haggadah (Hebrew: הַגָּדָה, “telling”; plural: Haggadot) is a foundational Jewish text that sets forth the order of the Passover Seder. According to post second temple Jewish practice, reading the Haggadah at the Seder table fulfills the mitzvah incumbent on every Jew to recount the Egyptian Exodus story to their children on the first night of Passover.2 You may or may not want to partake in it considering that! (More on that at the end of the article.) As I have previously written, the Passover teaching is intrinsically intended to be simple enough for children, and if you were raised with it each year hearing the story and going through this motion, you would think that, even though it may actually seem complex to a non-Torah observant evangelical. The seder dinner is based on Passover and Passover was the simple feast of the seven. But since the other feasts are now not typically observed sometimes the seder dinner becomes more complex attempting to try to make the Passover feast encompass the content of all the feasts. This is a bit unfortunate. The Passover is aimed at families considering a personal commitment to Yahweh’s covenant offered to them. I am going to write this from an already/now perspective giving you the historical symbolism impacted already by the work of Jesus through His death, resurrection and ascension as it relates to us today. Lastly, if you haven’t read this article, please do so first. 3 Personally, I am always amazed walking through a seder dinner how everything so richly points to Jesus yet so many of those that partake refuse Him.

Much of the seder dinner is based on tradition not the Bible. This is a biblical struggle. You also have the issue that second temple Judaism made a lot of rules which is what Jesus spoke very harshly against – That is actually what the temple cleansing was about in large part. So, I have crafted a presentation based on a better understanding and education. What do we take away and what do we leave behind? Below is the typical Seder order, however – I don’t really think a lot of the traditional seder is scriptural and thus think some of it could and should be left out. I think a better aim of the seder is to teach the symbolism of the Old Testament as it may relate to the Messiah which is what I aim at here. I also would not get caught up in needing to do things exactly as they are scripted. The was never the heart of the text or the biblical intent of reembrace of Passover. The seder should be light, fun, and simple. Made for children! The remembrance of Passover to the people of Israel in many ways was a foreshadow to the remembrance of communion in the New covenant.

The original intent of early Passover was to pass on to your children orally what is important and “SETS APART” your family. IT was not only a time for the stories of God’s covenant faithfulness but also brought a sense of spring cleaning spiritually to begin your year on track with the LORD. This is a great thing. I would encourage you to partake with your family in a similar sense. Maybe you tell the story of “passing over” or maybe you spiritually just use the meal to discuss Jesus over everything for your family and how important that is “YEAR after YEAR for you and your family.

Order of the Seder
NameMeaning
KADDESHKiddush (1st cup of Wine)
URECHATZWash hands, before eating Karpas
KARPASEat parsley dipped in salt water
YACHATZBreak the middle matzah – hide the Afikoman
MAGGIDThe telling of the story of Passover (2nd cup of Wine)
RACHTZAHWash hands before the meal
MOTZIBlessing for “Who brings forth”, over matzah
MATZAHBlessing over matzah
MARORBlessing for the eating of bitter herbs
KORECHEat matzah with bitter herbs & charoset
SHULCHAN ORECHPassover Dinner
TZAFUNEat the Afikomen
BARECHBlessings after the meal (3rd and 4th cups of Wine)
HALLELRecite the Hallel, Psalm of praise
NIRTZAHNext year in Jerusalem – conclusion of the Seder
Song of RejoicingSong of Rejoicing (technically, this is after Seder)

Traditionally a woman would light the candles and begin the chant. But you can make a joke that perhaps a manchild or manwoman will do, in Hebrew the word for Man or husband is a contranym and can mean a a man of valor, champion, expert, counselor or great hunter, but it can also find an opposite meaning such as manchild or woman like man, oppressor, adulterer, or general offender. That’s why for centuries the idiom has shown woman rolling their eyes and saying “eeeesh” when a man does something childlike.  אִישׁ Transliteration: iysh Pronunciation: eesh

The Haggadah means “the telling” and has been passed over generation to generation for thousands of years. But again, I would not emphasize that as I believe it might be grounds to be “off course” for a Jesus follower. You could begin with reading Matthew 5:17-20.

LEADER: God is holy, and we cannot enter His presence with sin. He established the sacrificial system to cleanse us of our sin. Yeshua is the ultimate sacrifice, so we can be in God’s presence. May we all be sanctified through the blood of the Lamb, Yeshua.

You can begin the celebration with this chant:

Bondage and Exodus

Hebrew Scriptures: Exodus 12:24–27. The nation of Israel is commanded to celebrate the Passover as a yearly ordinance to remember how God has dealt faithfully with them and preserved them. The emphasis is that they will individually be covenant keepers and that that notion leads their families and becomes communal to the larger context of the body [of Christ]. This is the foreshadow of New Covenant communion as we remember how Jesus fulfilled what was started here.

New Testament: John 8:36. Believers in Jesus recognize that God has extended salvation to all nations; through the salvific power of Yeshua’s blood, we are set free from the bondage of sin. Jesus is the Redeemer of humanity. (“All nations” is really a remembrance of the Feast of Tabernacles but as I mentioned earlier gets thrown in the pot with a seder dinner as the other feasts are slowly forgotten.) This starts with a personal covenant commission that we are the personal manifestation of the hands and feet of Jesus to regain ourselves, our families, our church body, and eventually the nations, but Passover emphasizes the aspect of personal reflection. The other feasts emphasized some of the other things, but because in our modern age the Passover is likely the only feast still exercised all of these things in the other feasts may be emphasized.

The Ceremonial Cups

Hebrew Scriptures: The original Passover makes no mention of a cup. Yet throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, the cup is often used as a symbol of both God’s covenant and provision.

Rabbinic Tradition: The four cups represent the four phrases in Exodus 6:6–7: “I will bring you out”; “I will deliver you”; “I will redeem you”; “I will take you to be my people.” First is the Kiddish Cup (the Cup of Sanctification), followed by the Cup of Plagues, the Cup of Redemption, and lastly, the Cup of Hallel (the Cup of Praise). The Mishnah, instructs those celebrating to drink from the cup four times during the Passover seder (Pesahim 10:1). 

New Testament: At the Last Supper, Jesus raised the cup before the supper (Luke 22:17–18), and the cup after the supper (the Cup of Redemption), when he said, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood” (Luke 22:20). This is the covenant promised to us by God when He said He would establish a new covenant with His people (Jeremiah 32:38–40). Paul tells us that the communion cup represents the blood of Messiah (1 Corinthians 10:16). The Hallel Psalms sung during the Cup of Hallel were likely sung by the disciples after dinner. Read more about the Passover cups and their significance in the Last Supper.

Jesus declared that this new covenant would be poured from the cup of salvation in His blood. The cup of redemption stood for more than the Hebrews’ escape from Egypt; it stood for the plan and purpose of God for all the ages. Judgment and salvation, wrath (impeding in 70AD) and redemption are brought together in the mystery of one cup, explained by the Messiah in that upper room. Jesus was not speaking of the cup in a purely symbolic manner. He was describing events that would soon occur in His own life. He also reflected this the day before at the triumphal entry when he wept.

Please fill your cup. Let us lift our cups, the Cup of Sanctification, and bless the Lord for His abundant giving.

Ba-rukh a-tah A-do-nai E-lo-hey-nu Me-lekh ha-‘o-lam bo-rey pri ha-ga-fen. 

Blessed are you, O Lord our God, Ruler of the Universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.

(Drink the first cup of wine.)


READER: (Psalm 24:1-6)

[1] The earth is the LORD’s, and everything in it,
       the world, and all who live in it;
[2] for he founded it upon the seas
       and established it upon the waters.
[3] Who may ascend the hill of the LORD?
       Who may stand in his holy place?
[4] He who has clean hands and a pure heart,
       who does not lift up his soul to an idol
       or swear by what is false.
[5] He will receive blessing from the LORD
       and vindication from God his Savior.
[6] Such is the generation of those who seek him,
       who seek your face, O God of Jacob.

LEADER: Let us wash our hands. As we wash, let us renew our commitment to God to have “clean hands and a clean heart”. (This is KIPPER cleansing language. John Walton’s Lost World of Torah has an excellent section on this.)

Ba-rukh A-tah A-do-nai E-lo-hey-nu Me-lekh ha-‘o-lam a-sher kid-sha-nu B’-mitz-vo-tav v’-tzi-va-nu ahl na-tie-lat ya-da-yim. 

Blessed are you, O Lord our God, King of the Universe, who has sanctified us by your commandments, and has commanded us to wash our hands.

LEADER: We will take the parsley, called kar-pas and we will dip it into the salt water. We do this to symbolize the tears and pain of the Israelites. After the following prayer, take the parsley and dip it into the salt water and remember that even though we have painful circumstances in our lives, we will always have the hope of God to free us from our tribulations.

Hebrew Scriptures: Karpas (Hebrew: כַּרְפַּס) refers to the vegetable, usually parsley or celery, that is dipped in liquid and eaten. The karpas do not appear in the early celebrations of Passover. So do you even want to do this? Maybe maybe not. Perhaps use it to emphasize a conversation on balance. The greens represent life. But before we eat them, we dip them into salt water, representing the tears of life. The karpas are dipped in salt water to represent and remind us that the lives of the Israelite slaves were immersed in tears. By dipping, we are also reminded that a life without redemption is a life drowned in tears. This message still takes on Biblical messages. You could ask your family where similar messages are later found in the text.

Ba-rukh a-tah A-do-nai E-lo-hey-nu Me-lekh ha-‘o-lam b-orey pri ha-‘a-da-mah. 

Blesssed are you, O Lord our God, Ruler of the Universe, who creates the fruit of the earth.

(Dip the parsley in the salt water twice, then eat it.)

LEADER: (Take three matzohs and put them in the matzoh pouch, one per section.)

Take your matzah pouch (a napkin works fine) and three slices of matzah and put one matzah in each section. In a moment we will break the middle one.

Matzah – The Unleavened Bread

Hebrew Scriptures: The “unleavened bread” is the last of the three items commanded for the Passover in Exodus 12:8, typically called matzah.

Rabbinic Tradition: The unleavened bread recalls the haste with which the Israelites fled Egypt. The impending Egyptian army did not allow Israel to wait for their bread to rise. We recall the escape from Egypt for the seven days of Passover as it is traditional to abstain from leaven.

New Testament: Jesus equates the matzah with his body at the Last Supper with his disciples (Luke 22:19). He broke the bread and distributed it to his disciples saying, “This is my body, which is [broken] for you” (1 Corinthians 11:24). Today, matzah is often used as a communion element to remember Jesus’ sacrifice. The matzah is meant to remind us that Yeshua’s body was broken. Interestingly, the modern way of producing matzah causes it to be striped and pierced. Some Jewish believers see this as a kind of “visual midrash” that reminds us that the Messiah’s body was “striped” (Isaiah 53:5, KJV) and “pierced” (Zechariah 12:10; Revelation 1:7). Matzah has always been made with holes and stripes. It still gets me that traditional Jews don’t see Jesus every time they pick up one of these crackers. How can you miss what is right before your eyes?

Further, just as leaven causes bread to rise, sin puffs us up. At Passover, we remove all leaven from our homes, not only in memory of the haste with which we departed Egypt, but also as a symbol of removing sin from our lives. The apostle Paul charges us to: “Cleanse out the old leaven that you may be a new lump, as you really are unleavened. For Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed” (1 Corinthians 5:7). Passover is the first of the festivals and seen as spiritual spring cleaning. Jesus’ mission was all about sacrificial humility. The triumphant entry and resurrection where the greatest display of humility in History. I urge you to take on this same attitude of Christ. (Phil 2:5-11)

The three matzahs represent the patriarchs: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. However, why would we break the matzah representing Isaac? Abraham offered his son Isaac at the a-ke-dat Yitz-chak,the binding of Isaac, but Isaac was not broken. *This is complex, I don’t suggest bringing this up unless you’re going to do it justice to the nature of God. This article will help. Another explanation offered is that the three matzahs represent God, Israel and the Jewish people. Again, why break the matzah representing Israel and that one only? The broken piece is called “the bread of affliction.”

With this thought in mind, the story of our fall into sin and eventual redemption wasn’t highlighted by pretty songs and peaceful prayers. It climaxed with an ugly death on the cross and a miraculous resurrection.

Continuing with the seder, The Hebrew scriptures say Adonai e-chad u-sheh-mo e-chad, “The Lord is One and His Name is One.”

The word e-chad carries with it the concept of some sort of plural aspect. Also, the Hebrew scriptures refer to God as Elohim, a plural form. Perhaps the three ma-tzot hint at the triune nature of God–a single indivisible spirit who manifests to us as our Father, and as Yeshua, the Mashiach, the living Torah, the Word of God and Son of God, and also as Ruach HaKodesh, the Holy Spirit of God. Perhaps the middle matzah is broken to remind us of what Yeshua, the Bread of Life, endured to be our ki-pur-ah, the sacrifice that atoned for our sins.

(Remove and break the middle matzah in two relatively equal pieces.)

We now break the middle piece, the bread of affliction. We will eat one half and the other half is called the a-fi-ko-men, [ah-fee-KOH-men] the dessert.

(Wrap the afikomen in a cloth or put it in the afikomen pouch.)

I will hide the afikomen and later the children can try to find it to return it for a reward.

Afikoman (Mishnaic Hebrew: אֲפִיקִימוֹן ʾăpîqîmôn; meaning “that which comes after” or “dessert”)5, the second (middle) piece of unleavened bread (the afikomen) is taken from the matzah tosh (special pouch with three compartments for each of the three pieces of matzah) during the Seder. The matzah is removed and broken, and then the broken piece is wrapped in the cloth and becomes the afikomen that is hidden from view. It is essentially broken and tucked away until dessert.

The afikomen was not part of the original Passover described in the Old Testament. You could avoid it, or you could share that. While the traditional meaning of afikomen is “dessert,” afikomen is actually a Greek word meaning the “coming one,” and is a clear reference to the Messiah.6  As believers in Jesus, we know that our Messiah’s sinless body was “broken” in death, wrapped in a cloth, hidden in burial, and then brought back by the power of God.

LEADER:
 Let us fill our cups a second time. A full cup is a sign of joy and on this night we are filled with joy in remembrance of God’s mighty deliverance. We must also remember the great sacrifice at which redemption was ransomed. Lives were sacrificed to bring the Israelites out of the bondage of Egypt. (This might be a good opportunity to talk about the biblical definition of Ransom as compared to what “ransom theories” attempt to turn it into.) Will Hess’ book Crushing the Great Serpent: Did God Punish Jesus? will help you greatly with this discussion.7

LEADER:
PASSOVER: It is God that we honor in remembering that He passed over the houses of the children of Israel in Egypt when He struck the Egyptians. (Lifting the shank bone of a lamb) The shank bone reminds us of the lamb whose blood marked the doors of the Israelites. We read in Exodus that the lamb was to be without defect, brought into the household and cared for. It was then at twilight, the fourteenth day of the month, that the Israelites were to slaughter the lamb and put the blood on the sides and tops of the doorframes. God gave His people instructions that only through obedience would they be spared from the angel of death. Isaiah told of the coming Messiah, that He would be led like a lamb to the slaughter. We know that Yeshua was our final blood atonement so that we would be freed from the bondage of sin and we would be passed over from death. “Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!” (Revelation 5:12)

LEADER: MATZAH (Lifting the other half of the Middle Matzah): Why do we eat this unleavened bread? The dough did not have time to rise before God revealed Himself to them and redeem them. As it is written: With the dough they had brought from Egypt, they baked cakes of unleavened bread. The dough was without yeast because they had been driven out of Egypt and did not have time to prepare food for themselves. (Exodus 12:39)

LEADER: MAROR (Lifting the Bitter Herb): Why do we eat bitter herb? We eat bitter herb because of the hardship that the Israelites had to bear. As it is written: They made their lives bitter with hard labor in brick and mortar and with all kinds of work in the fields; in all their hard labor the Egyptians used them ruthlessly. (Exodus 1:14)

The Maror

Hebrew Scriptures: Maror (Hebrew: מָרוֹר mārōr) are the bitter herbs eaten at the Passover Seder in keeping with the biblical commandment “with bitter herbs they shall eat it.” (Exodus 12:8).8

Rabbinic Tradition: The maror represents the bitterness of Egyptian slavery. Each Passover, as we eat the maror, we remember the toil and burden of slavery that our ancestors endured. The natural reaction to eating the bitter herbs (usually fresh ground horseradish) is to cry, which is a physical reminder of the sadness of life without redemption.

New Testament: In John 13:26 at the Last Supper, Jesus says, “‘He it is, to whom I shall give a sop, when I have dipped it.’ And when he had dipped the sop, he gave it to Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon” (King James Version). While this is often translated as the unleavened bread that is dipped, it could also be the bitter herbs, since after the first cup, the Passover ceremony commences with bitter herbs dipped into a vinegar sop (karpas). But this seems like a stretch. This is actually one of the reasons who I believe the LAST SUPPER was not a Passover meal. Jesus was a VERY observant Jew. If this was a Passover meal you would think that at least one of the synoptics would have mentioned it or recorded it that way. Passover is mentioned 29 times in 27 verses in the New Testament but never once at any mention of the Last Supper.

LEADER: (Lifting the egg) The egg has also been added to the Seder. It is called kha-hi-hah, a name signifying the special holiday offering. The egg was added during the Babylonian period. The egg does not have a great significance in the Seder other than reminding us of our Jewish heritage and the many obstacles that have been overcome throughout the years. NOTE: Some Christians will identify with a since of Dispensational Zionism and Israel here, I don’t.

The Beitzah

Hebrew Scriptures: The “roasted egg” (beitzah) does not appear in the Hebrew Scriptures as it remembers the destruction of the Temple. Beitza (Hebrew: ביצה) (literally “egg”, named after the first word) is a tractate in Seder Mo’ed, dealing with the laws of Yom Tov (holidays). 9

Rabbinic Tradition: The beitzah represents the renewal of life. Unconsumed, it represents the discontinued korban chagigah (“festival sacrifice”) that was offered at the Temple in Jerusalem. The egg evokes the idea of mourning over the destruction of the Temple and our inability to offer sacrifices at Pesach. However, (this doesn’t make much sense to me) in contemporary Judaism, the beitzah is consumed at the contemporary Seder as an “appetizer,” and is dipped in salt water to symbolically grieve the destruction of the Temple. So are we going to eat the egg? Hmmmm

The traditional Jewish problem: With no Temple, no altar, and no sacrifice, how is it possible to atone for sins? The rabbis say that forgiveness from sin is obtained through repentance, prayer, and good deeds. But the Law of Moses states that atonement must be made through blood, and our good deeds can’t save us. Of course, if you believe is Jesus, you see Him and the sacrifice at the cross as the once and for all atoning work. But you might just want to leave the egg out. What I have done is sometimes leave a few of the eggs “raw not hard boiled” and let someone bight into it to which I can have a conversation pertaining to the problem of the egg discussion in the seder!

The Charoseth

Hebrew Scriptures: Charoset is a sweet, dark-colored mixture of finely chopped fruits and nuts.10 According to the Talmud, its color and texture are meant to recall mortar (or mud used to make adobe bricks), which the Israelites used when they were enslaved in Ancient Egypt, as mentioned in Tractate Pesahim 116a of the Talmud. The charoseth is not specifically mentioned in the Old Testament. The symbolism might be that even the most difficult circumstances of our lives are sweetened by the promise of future redemption.11 But if you’re going to leave anything out this is the first thing I would cut.

LEADER: And now we bless our second cup of wine, the cup of plagues.

ALL: Ba-rukh a-tah A-do-nai E-lo-hey-nu Me-lekh ha-‘o-lam bo-rey pri ha-ga-fen. Blesssed are you, O Lord our God, Ruler of the Universe, who created the fruit of the vine.

(Drink the second cup of wine.)

LEADER: Let us now eat and remember the grace, mercy and love that God has for each of us, for He sent Yeshua, our Messiah, to be our Passover Lamb. We too, like the Israelites released from the bondage of slavery, can be saved from the bondage of sin.

The Lamb

Hebrew Scriptures: Exodus 12:5, 8, 46. The lamb is one of the three items to be eaten at the Passover meal. In the original Passover in Egypt, the entire lamb was central to the observance. The Israelites took the lamb, sacrificed it, placed the blood of the sacrifice on the doorposts of their homes, and then ate the lamb as their main course. At the first Passover, the angel of death “passed over” the homes marked by the blood of the lamb during the final plague.

The word used today for the lamb “shankbone,” zeroa12, is used not only to remind us of the Passover lamb but also as a symbol of God’s “outstretched arm” with which He delivered us from Egypt (Exodus 6:6). The same word (zeroa) is used to pose a question in Isaiah 53, a key Messianic prophecy: “Who has believed what he has heard from us? And to whom has the [zeroa] [in English ‘arm’] of the LORD been revealed?” (v. 1). Then Isaiah continues in verse 2, “For he …” (seemingly now speaking of the arm as a person). Isaiah then goes on to describe the servant who would suffer and die for the sin of his people “like a lamb that is led to the slaughter” (v. 7).

New Testament: Jesus is understood to be the Passover Lamb who was slaughtered to take away the sins of the world (1 Corinthians 5:7). John the Baptist affirmed this when he saw Jesus and said of him, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29).

(Eat the broken half-Matzah with Maror and Charoset.)

LEADER: (Lifting the afikomen) We will now eat the afikomen, the dessert. The taste of the afikomen should linger in our mouths. It is about the afikomen that Yeshua said “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.” (Luke 22:19) The Passover can not be completed without the afikomen, nor can our redemption be complete without Yeshua, the Bread of Life, our Messiah!

ALL: Ba-rukh A-tah A-do-nai El-o-hey-nu Me-lekh ha-‘o-lam ha-mo-tzi le-khem min ha-‘a-retz. Blessed are You, O Lord our God, King of the Universe, who brings forth bread from the earth.

(All eat the Afikoman)

LEADER: Let us fill our cups for the third time this evening. (Lifting the cup) This is the Cup of Redemption, symbolizing the blood of the Passover Lamb. It was the cup “after supper”, which Yeshua identified himself — “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.” (Luke 22:20)

ALL: Ba-rukh A-tah A-do-nai E-lo-hey-nu Me-lekh ha-‘o-lam bo-rey pri ha-ga-fen. Blesssed are you, O Lord our God, Ruler of the Universe, who created the fruit of the vine.

(Drink the third cup of wine.)

LEADER: (Lifting the extra cup for Elijah) The theme of this part of the Haggadah before the meal was the redemption of the Israelites from Egypt. In keeping with tradition, we now move to the Messianic redemption. (The 4th cup)

LEADER: Let us fill our cups, the Cup of Praise and give thanks to God!

Ba-rukh A-tah A-do-nai E-lo-he-ynu Me-lekh ha-‘o-lam bo-rey pri ha-ga-fen. 

Blessed are you, O Lord our God, Ruler of the Universe, who created the fruit of the vine.

(Drink the fourth cup of wine.)

LEADER: (Can read Psalm 136)

LEADER: [12] Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold. [13] We are not like Moses, who would put a veil over his face to keep the Israelites from gazing at it while the radiance was fading away. [14] But their minds were made dull, for to this day the same veil remains when the old covenant is read. It has not been removed, because only in Christ is it taken away. [15] Even to this day when Moses is read, a veil covers their hearts. [16] But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. [17] Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. [18] And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. (2 Corinthians 3:12-18)

LEADER: We have now finished our Passover Seder. We are all called to live the Sh’ema — to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul and might, and to treat others with kindness.  Seek a relationship with God, not a “religion”.

It is fun here to memorize the Aaronic priestly blessing13 in Hebrew and chant or sing it over the people at the table. You could start with having a kid blow a shofar and use a tallit over your head as you commission your family for the year.


WRITERS BEWARE:

Now that we have approached the end of this post. (I am glad you made it.) I want to finish by saying that I have actually only participated in a few seder dinners throughout my life. I thought that might surprise you after just reading this. As with anything, there is some good to be gleaned but also some concern and things to be aware of or even avoid.

The Hebrew Roots movement should concern you. But that isn’t what this post is about. Neither is it about Talmudic Judaism, which should also concern you. Even second Temple late Rabbinical Judaism was largely what Jesus was cleansing the temple of and should concern you. So, my emphasis in anything but particularly the conversation at hand, a Seder dinner, is to stay Biblical. Stick with the text. As you just read my hesitancy in celebrating a Seder dinner is much of it has left the context of scripture and joined “tradition.” It was actually difficult to write all of the NON-Biblical parts of this dinner. Personally, I think they are best avoided, but I still have a place for the biblical aspects of the seder dinner. It is not the authentic Judaism of Moses, Abraham, or the Old Testament prophets. Instead, it represents a later development that might lack elements of the priesthood, temple, and sacrifices central to Abrahamic and Mosaic faith.

I am always careful in devotion toward the Lord to stay balanced on the Word of the Lord. The evolution of commentary is beneficial yet also scary. “I have the right to do anything,” you say—but not everything is beneficial. “I have the right to do anything”—but not everything is constructive. Syncretism, which is a blending of what is true and elements of what we have added should always be a concern.

My hesitancy with the seder dinner is similar to my feelings concerning most modern religious practice. Does it conflate the truth of the gospel? In regard to the seder dinner, I would consider it much like any other theological construct formed after the early church. There may be a need to glean. After the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 AD, the biblical Passover could no longer be observed as prescribed. Without a temple, priesthood, or altar, the sacrificial system ceased. In response, Jewish leaders developed Rabbinic Judaism, a new framework based on oral traditions later codified in the Mishnah (c. 200 AD) and Talmud (c. 500 AD).14 This tradition reimagined Passover as the Seder, a ritual meal with symbolic foods, prayers, and readings, centered on the Haggadah, a text outlining the order of the service. The earliest Haggadah texts date to the 2nd–3rd centuries AD, reflecting a post-temple adaptation designed to preserve Jewish identity in the absence of sacrifice.15

As I have shown above, much of the seder points to Jesus, but some of the roots don’t. I will remind you that Jesus was an observant Jew and commanded us to follow His examples. After the destruction of the Temple much of the Christian community (Paul) remained observant. There were Jews that were Messianic and Jews that weren’t and they continued to practice in similar ways.

To simply say we shouldn’t partake may be a double standard. As I mentioned, remembering Passover in Israel is a foreshadow to communion in the New Covenant. The disposable cups and tiny crackers are hardly adequate of what communion means before the lord (and when was the last time you washed someone’s feet); quite frankly this minimal “remembrance” might even be offensive to Jesus. Christians didn’t start practicing communion as a quick cup of juice and bite of bread distinct act of worship in the church service until 1891.16 Let that sink in for a minute. Most Christians aren’t going to have a problem with quickly partaking every week before they run off to worship the football game because they are embracing the good. God honors steps of goodness towards Him, but we still need to be careful here and teach scriptural truths. Seder is similar. In fact, a Biblical Seder is likely a better “do this in remembrance” than passing tiny cups will ever be. Just because it isn’t practiced as well as it could be (and is sometimes misused) doesn’t mean a Christian should just simply not do it.

Jesus followers need to seek some balance within the world they live in and the manner that Christianity has evolved to a modern world. Live redeemed as a recreated spiritual being whose place is now not of this world. But as long as you live in the physical world, you’re going to need a balancing act. The Seder like so many other religious traditions is a product of a religious system that emerged after Christ’s fulfillment. Should you partake? That is up to you and your family. I have found that I want to celebrate what is good, that which is TOV, and in my sanctification process, I begin to leave behind what is constructed of the world. I personally have found fruit and redemptive work in teaching a “better” Seder. Maybe you will too, or maybe in your season it is best to leave it alone. Both might be good options or relevant to your situation and season. Only you can decide. And what was meant to be simple has become complex.

Conclusion

Passover is not a stand-alone example of God’s redemptive power. God has continually and faithfully delivered His people. The Passover symbols remind us of God’s continued presence with us and the hope we have in Messiah.

ENDNOTES

This article has been adapted by permission from my good friends at JEWS FOR JESUS. When I attended Moody Bible Institiute in the early 1990’s MBI was one of the centers for Jews for Jesus and I enjoyed a rich friendship with their ministry.

  1. https://jewsforjesus.org/learn/the-passover-symbols-and-their-messianic-significance ↩︎
  2. Glatstein, Daniel (13 March 2023). Rav Daniel Glatstein on the Haggadah (1st ed.). Mesorah Publications Ltd. ↩︎
  3. https://expedition44.com/2025/04/15/understanding-the-biblical-lens-of-the-cross-and-the-timeline-of-the-resurrection-holy-week/ ↩︎
  4. https://www.compellingtruth.org/unleavened-bread.html ↩︎
  5. So spelled and vocalized in de Rossi 138 (Parma A) and Kaufmann A50; also spelled אפיקמון in the Cambridge manuscript and by Joseph Ashkenazi  ↩︎
  6. Traditionally, the word is explained as “dessert” or “that which comes later.” The late Jewish scholar David Daube, professor of law at the University of California, Berkeley, and others have more recently defended the explanation that it is derived from the Greek afikomenos, “the coming one.” See David Daube, Collected Works of David Daube, vol. 2, New Testament Judaism, ed. Calum Carmichael (Berkeley: The Robbins Collection, 1992), 425; Deborah Bleicher Carmichael, “David Daube on the Eucharist and the Passover Seder,” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 42 (1991), 45–67. ↩︎
  7. https://www.amazon.com/Crushing-Great-Serpent-Punish-Jesus/dp/B0DGJJJ1V5 ↩︎
  8.  “Seder Preparations – Jewish Tradition”yahadut.org↩︎
  9.  Steinsaltz, Rabbi Adin Even-Israel; Society, The Aleph (2014-04-01). “The Aleph Society- Let My People Know”The Aleph Society↩︎
  10.  “Seder Preparations – Jewish Tradition”yahadut.org ↩︎
  11. Joan Alpert (2013-03-25). “The sweet story of Charoset”. Moment. ↩︎
  12. “The Shank Bone (Zeroah)”http://www.chabad.org. ↩︎
  13. https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Synagogue_Blessings/Priestly_Blessing/priestly_blessing.html#loaded ↩︎
  14. https://hope4israel.org/the-sacrificial-system/ ↩︎
  15. Glatstein, Daniel (13 March 2023). Rav Daniel Glatstein on the Haggadah (1st ed.). Mesorah Publications Ltd. ↩︎
  16. https://www.thejenkinsinstitute.com/blog/2020/4/presenting-the-communion-a-history-and-a-question ↩︎