Tag Archives: israel

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

Posted by expedition44 on

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.

Israel, Covenant, and the Roots of the Eschatological Question

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.

Understanding Dispensational Approaches to the End Times

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.

Daniel’s Prophetic Timeline and the Question of A.D. 70

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

Interpreting Apocalyptic Texts: Genre, Symbolism, and the Limits of Speculation

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.

The Literary Structure of Revelation: Recapitulation Rather Than Timeline

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.

Rethinking the Antichrist, the Beast, and the Nature of Tribulation

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

Considering Preterist Readings of Biblical Prophecy

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.

Revelation as Anti-Empire Literature

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.

Israel, the Temple, and the Fulfillment of the Messianic Kingdom

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.

The Church as Bride: Faithful Expectation and the Renewal of Creation

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.

Conclusion: Bringing the Kingdom from Heaven to Earth

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. ↩︎

The Kingdom of God, Rival Nations, and the Crisis of Violent Power

Posted by expedition44 on

A theological–exegetical reflection on the U.S. attack on Iran in light of divine judgment and the cruciform way of Jesus

Introduction: the moral dissonance of sanctified violence

There are moments when the Christian conscience recoils—not from the reality of evil, but from the way in which violence is celebrated as though it were synonymous with righteousness. (Weaponizing Christianity.) When political leaders invoke God to justify military action, and segments of the church respond with eager affirmation, a deep theological dissonance emerges. The instincts of the New Testament—enemy love, cruciform humility, reconciliation—seem to stand in sharp tension with the rhetoric of domination and national triumph.

Recent reports of a U.S.–Israel strike on Iran, described as a preemptive response to perceived nuclear threat and followed by rapid escalation and global concern, have once again brought these tensions to the surface.¹–⁵ Some Christian voices have interpreted such actions as necessary measures against profound evil; others have expressed grief, lament, and unease, particularly in light of reports of civilian casualties and the language of totalizing force.

How does the biblical witness—especially when read through the lens of Jesus Christ—shape Christian moral reflection on violence, judgment, and national power? While Scripture clearly affirms that God judges evil, it simultaneously reveals that the kingdom inaugurated by Jesus redefines how God’s people participate in confronting that evil.

Divine judgment and the reality of evil in the Old Testament

The Hebrew Scriptures do not minimize the severity of evil. In fact, they often portray it as systemic, violent, and corrosive to creation itself. The Flood narrative in Genesis 6–9 provides the earliest canonical example. Humanity’s corruption is not framed as private moral failure alone but as a saturation of violence that fills the earth.⁶ The deluge functions as an act of de-creation—waters returning the world to primordial chaos—followed by a re-creation under covenant. Yet the story does not culminate in triumphalist destruction; rather, God binds himself to the preservation of the world despite humanity’s continued inclination toward evil.⁷ Divine judgment is therefore real, but it is restrained by divine mercy.

The destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 18–19) further illustrates this tension. The narrative is framed judicially: God responds to a “cry” of injustice, investigates, and renders judgment.⁸ Abraham’s intercession reveals a profound theological principle—God’s justice is not arbitrary but accountable to the standard of righteousness itself: “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is right?” Later prophetic reflection identifies Sodom’s sin not only in sexual immorality but in arrogance, oppression, and neglect of the vulnerable.¹⁰ The text therefore portrays divine judgment as morally responsive and relationally grounded.

Perhaps the most contested passages concern the judgment of the Canaanite nations (Deuteronomy 7; 20; Leviticus 18). These texts must be approached with several exegetical controls. First, the judgment is delayed; Genesis 15:16 indicates that the iniquity of these nations must reach its full measure before action is taken.¹¹ Second, the commands are bound to Israel’s unique covenant vocation and are not offered as a transferable model for other nations. Third, the rationale centers on moral pollution and systemic corruption that threatens covenantal identity.¹² Finally, the prophetic tradition later subjects Israel itself to judgment when it mirrors the very practices it was commanded to resist. The logic of these texts therefore underscores divine justice and impartiality, not nationalistic license.

A necessary counterbalance appears in the story of Nineveh. The Assyrian empire, notorious for violence and oppression, repents at Jonah’s proclamation and is spared divine judgment.¹⁴ The narrative exposes the human desire for retribution and God’s surprising inclination toward mercy. Judgment and compassion remain intertwined throughout the canon.

The Christological re-centering of judgment and power

The decisive interpretive key for Christian theology is the person of Jesus Christ. In him, divine justice and mercy converge in a way that reframes how God’s people engage with the world. Jesus’ teaching consistently rejects retaliation and commands love for enemies.¹⁵ When violence is employed in his defense, he rebukes it, insisting that the kingdom of God does not advance by the sword.¹⁶ Leadership is redefined as servanthood rather than domination.¹⁷

The apostolic witness extends this vision. Believers are instructed not to repay evil with evil but to overcome evil with good, entrusting judgment to God.¹⁸ The apocalyptic vision of Revelation portrays victory not through imperial conquest but through the Lamb who was slain; the faithful participate in this victory through witness and endurance rather than coercion.¹⁹ The New Testament therefore does not deny the reality of judgment but relocates the people of God within a cruciform mode of participation in God’s redemptive purposes.

Theologically, this shift is profound. The people of God are no longer a territorial nation executing covenantal warfare but a transnational body whose identity is rooted in Christ. Their allegiance is not to any single nation but to the kingdom of God, and their political ethic is shaped by the character of Jesus.

Rival nations and the temptation to sacralize power

Throughout history, the church has wrestled with the temptation to align itself uncritically with national power. Political leaders frequently invoke religious language to frame military action as righteous or divinely sanctioned. Such rhetoric can subtly shift Christian allegiance from Christ to nation, transforming the gospel into a tool of civil religion.

The New Testament offers a sober warning. While governing authorities are recognized as part of God’s providential order, they remain subject to moral evaluation and can become beastly when they demand ultimate allegiance or justify violence without accountability.²⁴ The prophetic tradition consistently resists the sacralization of political power, calling rulers to justice while reminding them that they are not God.

To claim divine sanction for national violence without humility, repentance, and moral scrutiny risks assuming a prerogative that belongs to God alone. It is, in a theological sense, an attempt to “play God”—to take into human hands the authority to determine ultimate judgment and righteousness.

Confronting extreme evil: justice, children, and the limits of force

The presence of genuine evil complicates Christian ethics. Few would deny that some regimes or movements perpetrate grave injustice and violence. The question is how such evil is to be confronted in a manner consistent with the character of God as revealed in Christ.

Within Christian tradition, two primary ethical frameworks have emerged. The just war tradition argues that force may be tragically necessary to restrain greater evil, provided strict criteria are met, including proportionality and the protection of noncombatants. The nonviolent or pacifist tradition, represented by voices such as Brian Zahnd, Greg Boyd, and others, contends that the cross reveals a fundamentally different mode of confronting evil—one that refuses to replicate violence even in the pursuit of justice.²⁶,²⁷

Both traditions converge on a crucial point: the lives of civilians, particularly children, are not expendable. They are bearers of the image of God. The loss of innocent life therefore demands lament, repentance, and sober moral reflection. It cannot be dismissed as collateral damage without eroding the theological foundation of human dignity.

When Christians align themselves uncritically with national violence, they risk becoming more shaped by empire than by the kingdom of God. The church must resist the formation of its imagination by the narratives of power and instead be shaped by the story of the crucified and risen Christ.

The cruciform witness of the Church in a violent world

The biblical narrative does not offer simplistic answers to the problem of violence. It affirms that God judges evil and that injustice must be confronted. Yet it also reveals that the definitive expression of God’s power is the cross—a power that absorbs violence rather than perpetuating it.

The vocation of the church, therefore, is not to wield the sword of the state but to bear witness to the kingdom of God. This witness includes speaking truth about injustice, advocating for the vulnerable, resisting idolatrous nationalism, and embodying the love of enemies. It is a witness that refuses to dehumanize even those who commit evil, recognizing that all people remain objects of God’s redemptive desire.

In the face of geopolitical conflict, the central question for Christians is not simply whether a particular action is strategically justified but whether their response reflects the character of Christ. Does it cultivate humility, compassion, and a longing for reconciliation, or does it mirror the pride and hostility of rival nations? Does it affirm the dignity of all persons, or does it reduce them to enemies to be eliminated?

The New Testament’s answer is clear: the people of God are called to a different way. Their ultimate allegiance is to the kingdom of Jesus. Their ethics are shaped by the cross. Their hope rests not in military victory but in the final renewal of all things under Christ’s lordship.

In a world marked by profound evil and suffering, such a witness may appear weak. Yet within the logic of the gospel, this weakness is the very power of God—the power that overcomes evil not by destroying enemies but by transforming them.

Footnotes

  1. Reuters, “Iranian leader Khamenei killed in strikes, Israel says,” Feb 28, 2026.
  2. Associated Press, “Russia condemns US-Israel strikes on Iran as ‘unprovoked act of armed aggression’,” Feb 28, 2026.
  3. The Guardian, “US and Israel strike Iran as Netanyahu says ‘many signs’ Khamenei ‘no longer alive’,” Feb 28, 2026.
  4. PBS NewsHour, “What to know about the U.S.-Israel attacks on Iran,” Feb 28, 2026.
  5. Council on Foreign Relations, “Gauging the Impact of Massive U.S.-Israeli Strikes on Iran,” Feb 28, 2026.
  6. Genesis 6:5–13.
  7. Genesis 8:21–22; 9:8–17.
  8. Genesis 18:16–33.
  9. Genesis 19.
  10. Ezekiel 16:49–50.
  11. Genesis 15:13–16.
  12. Leviticus 18:24–30.
  13. Deuteronomy 7; 20.
  14. Jonah 3–4.
  15. Matthew 5:38–48.
  16. Matthew 26:52–54.
  17. Mark 10:42–45.
  18. Romans 12:17–21.
  19. Revelation 5:5–10; 12:11.
  20. Brian Zahnd, A Farewell to Mars (Cascade, 2014).
  21. Brian Zahnd, Sinners in the Hands of a Loving God (WaterBrook, 2017).
  22. Greg Boyd, The Myth of a Christian Nation (Zondervan, 2005).
  23. Steve Gregg, Revelation: Four Views (Thomas Nelson, 2013).
  24. Oliver O’Donovan, The Desire of the Nations (Cambridge University Press, 1996).
  25. Stanley Hauerwas, The Peaceable Kingdom (Notre Dame, 1983).
  26. Glen Stassen and David Gushee, Kingdom Ethics (IVP Academic, 2003).
  27. John Howard Yoder, The Politics of Jesus (Eerdmans, 1994).
  28. N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Fortress, 1996).
  29. Christopher J. H. Wright, Old Testament Ethics for the People of God (IVP, 2004).
  30. Miroslav Volf, Exclusion and Embrace (Abingdon, 1996).
  31. Augustine, City of God, trans. Henry Bettenson (Penguin, 2003).

Is Israel Still God’s Chosen people?

Posted by expedition44 on

Q:  I have a question regarding Israel. Would Israelites still be considered God’s chosen people or would that have changed with Jesus’s atoning works? 

Yes, Israel was (and is) called God’s chosen people in Scripture—but what that means and how we understand it after Jesus is really important to clarify.

When God called Israel His “chosen people” in the Old Testament, it wasn’t primarily a statement about salvation. Rather, Israel was chosen (commissioned) for a vocation—to be a light to the nations (see Exodus 19:5–6; Deuteronomy 7:6; Isaiah 49:6). (You might see this as a regaining of the nations if you follow a Deuteronomy 32 worldview.) God gave them the Law (Torah), the covenants, and the promises, not as an end in themselves, but so that through them, the nations of the world would come to know and worship Yahweh. Paul puts it like this in Romans 3:2—that the Jews were entrusted with the oracles of God. In a sense, this was the calling of Adam and Eve and when they fall short, God commissions Israel in the same calling, nation that would be called commissioned as a holy royal priesthood to represent Yahweh to the rest of the fallen world.

But Israel consistently struggled to live out this calling. From nearly the beginning of the story the nation failed to honor Yahweh (golden calf incident) and instead of the entire nation (all 12 tribes) representing the Lord as priests, God adapted the plan and then called just the Levites to be His representatives as priests first to Israel in hopes of then commissioning the entire nation of Israel to the original plan and act as ambassadors of Yahweh. The Old Testament tells a story of covenant, failure, judgment, and hope for restoration. Israel continued to falter. They gave up their theocracy of one God – Yahweh to choose to be led by an earthly king. They drifted farther and farther from the plan until God finally hands them over to their own demise, the exile was a key turning point. Even after the return of the exile to Jerusalem, most scholars believe Israel never returned to the LORD. God longed for Israel to return to the true redemption and the coming of God’s kingdom. Unfortunately, Israel continued to fall short and not seem to live out their calling or commissioning.

Jesus enters the narrative with a similar mission. He doesn’t reject Israel’s story—He steps into it. He comes first to “the lost sheep of Israel” (Matt. 15:24), calling them back to their original vocation. He chooses twelve disciples, clearly symbolizing a reconstitution of the twelve tribes of Israel. This is not incidental—it’s Jesus claiming to be the one who restores and redefines Israel around Himself.

And here’s the key: Jesus is the faithful Israelite. He does what Israel failed to do. He keeps the covenant perfectly, walks in radical obedience, and fulfills Israel’s mission. He is the true Israel (see Matthew 2:15 where Hosea’s words originally spoken about Israel—”out of Egypt I called my son”—are applied to Jesus).

This is why Paul will later say in Galatians 3:16 that the promises were given not to “seeds” (plural) but to one “seed,” who is Christ. In other words, the inheritance of Israel is fulfilled in Jesus—and only those who are “in Him” share in that inheritance. That phrase—”in Christ”—is the dominant identity marker for believers in the New Testament. If Jesus is the true Israel, then those united to Him (Jew or Gentile) are the true people of God.

This point becomes even clearer when we revisit God’s original promise to Abraham in Genesis 12:3: “I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse.” This statement is often lifted out of its covenantal context and applied to modern nations or political support for Israel. However, the Hebrew grammar and narrative context show that the promise was made to Abram himself (the singular “you” in Hebrew, ʾotkha), not to a future geopolitical nation. God’s intention was not to privilege one ethnic group above all others but to initiate a redemptive mission through one man and his descendants—a mission that would culminate in Christ. The blessing is vocational, not nationalistic. Abram is chosen in order to be a blessing, that through him “all the families of the earth will be blessed.”

The apostle Paul interprets this precisely in Galatians 3:16, identifying the “seed” (zeraʿ) of Abraham as Christ Himself. This means that the covenant promise—“I will bless those who bless you”—finds its ultimate fulfillment in Jesus. The “you” now applies to Abraham’s true heir, the Messiah. Those who bless Him—who honor, trust, and align themselves with Jesus—receive the blessing of God; those who reject Him cut themselves off from that blessing. In this way, the Abrahamic covenant points forward to Christ as the locus of divine favor. To bless Abraham’s seed is to embrace the redemptive mission of God revealed in Jesus, and through faith in Him, we become participants in that same blessing.

Paul says Abraham was justified before circumcision (Rom. 4), showing that faith, not ethnicity, is the marker of God’s covenant people. He adds in Romans 2:28–29 that a true Jew is one inwardly, whose heart is circumcised by the Spirit. And in Galatians 3:28 he writes: “There is neither Jew nor Greek… you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

Ephesians 2 expands this beautifully. Paul says that Jesus has broken down the dividing wall and made one new humanity—no longer Jew and Gentile, but one body. Peter echoes this in 1 Peter 2, where he applies all the covenant titles once reserved for Israel (royal priesthood, holy nation, people of God) to the church made up of both Jews and Gentiles.

Paul also uses the metaphor of an olive tree in Romans 11: some natural branches (ethnic Israelites) were broken off because of unbelief, and wild branches (Gentiles) were grafted in. But it’s one tree. There aren’t two peoples of God. There is one new covenant community—those who are in Christ. It’s not about replacing Israel, but about fulfillment—where Jews and Gentiles together form the one people of God in Christ.

This helps clarify what Paul means in Romans 11:26 when he says, “all Israel will be saved.” We don’t believe he’s referring to a future mass conversion of ethnic Jews or suggesting two separate salvation paths. Rather, he’s speaking of the fullness of God’s people: both believing Jews and Gentiles who are part of the one tree through faith in the Messiah. This fits with Paul’s logic throughout Romans and with his statement in Galatians 6:16 that the church is “the Israel of God.”

God has always worked through covenants—and those covenants are centered on trust and faithfulness, not ethnicity alone. From the beginning, covenant relationship with God required loyal love. Even under the Mosaic covenant, Israel’s inclusion was contingent on obedience and faithfulness to Yahweh (Deut 28). Being born into Israel didn’t guarantee blessing—relationship and trust did. (Israelites were never automatically “saved.”) If there was any sense of salvation in the Old Testament it would be under the same “qualifications” as in the New Testament. What God was asking and promising for the faithful doesn’t change from the Old Covenants to the New Covenant.

The New Testament affirms this. While many modern Jews are physical descendants of Abraham, Paul is clear that physical descent is not enough. In Romans 9:6–8, he writes:

“For they are not all Israel who are descended from Israel; nor are they all children because they are Abraham’s descendants… it is not the children of the flesh who are children of God, but the children of the promise.”

Paul emphasizes that covenant identity is now grounded in faith—just as it was with Abraham. As he puts it in Galatians 3:7:

“Understand, then, that those who have faith are children of Abraham.”

So when we speak of the “people of God” today, we are not referring to a physical nation-state or ethnic group. We are speaking of those “in Christ”—those joined to the faithful Israelite, Jesus.

The modern nation-state of Israel is not the covenant people of the Bible. -If this is a new consideration for you, you might consider reading this article. Most of its citizens do not follow the Mosaic covenant, and the majority have rejected Jesus as Messiah. According to the New Testament, that places them outside of the renewed covenant family—not because of their ancestry, but because God’s covenant has always been about faith.

This doesn’t mean God has abandoned ethnic Jews. Paul says in Romans 11 that he hopes some of his fellow Jews will be provoked to faith. And many Messianic Jews (Jewish believers in Jesus) are part of the body of Christ. But the boundary marker is no longer ethnicity or Torah observance—it is faith in Jesus.

All of this leads us to say: the true Israel (or Israelite) is Jesus. And those “in Him,” whether Jew or Gentile, are heirs to the promises, the calling, and the covenant. God is not partial (and never has been, even with Israel as many gentiles were welcome to join them, a mixed multitude – Hebrew and gentile – left Egypt in the Exodus becoming “Israel”, and some even found themselves in the lineage of Christ Himself) —He welcomes all who come to Him through Christ.

We also need to think about our family in Christ as those that are allegiant to the New Covenant calling rather than those that are nationalistically / inter-nationalistically aligned with groups that subtly “claim to be allied with God” but are not living out the Way of Jesus or bearing fruit for the Kingdom of Christ. There is only one kingdom of Christ, and you can’t serve two masters. For generations many have claimed to be part of Israel or want to be somehow grafted into salvation but haven’t followed the devotion that God has desired and look nothing like Jesus or act in a way worthy of bearing His image. Jesus seemed to paint this picture vividly and make this very clear in the sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7).

This is not replacement theology.1 God has not rejected Israel and replaced her with or even outside of the church. Rather, the church is the fulfillment of Israel’s story (and Adam and Eve’s story for that matter) —expanded to include all nations through union with Jesus, the faithful Israelite, this was the plan of redemption that “all nations”, or everyone was offerred from the beginning. The promises of God have not been scrapped or reassigned; they find their “yes and amen” in Christ (2 Corinthians 1:20). The covenant people of God have always been marked by faith and loyalty to Him—and in the new covenant, that means allegiance and devotion to Yahweh through Jesus accepting and claiming that victory and receiving the gift of the Holy Spirit as a sign of the holy royal priesthood. Jew and Gentile together form the one new man, the reconstituted people of God.

written by Will Ryan Th.D. and Matt Mouzakis Th.D.

  1. Replacement theology, doctrine holding that Christians have replaced the Jewish people as the chosen people of God or as the heirs of the divine-human covenant described in the Hebrew Bible. The theology is also referred to as supersessionism, in which Christianity is thought to have superseded Judaism. It is closely related to fulfillment theology, which holds that Christianity has fulfilled the divine promises signaled in the Hebrew Bible. These ideas appear to be suggested in some of the earliest Christian texts, such as writings of St. Paul the Apostle, and subsequent Christian theologians have strengthened the opposition of Judaism and Christianity in ways that have informed relations between Christians and Jews. In the 20th century many Christian theologians and even church doctrines replaced replacement theology with more-nuanced or inclusive models that support more-amicable interreligious relations.

    https://www.britannica.com/topic/Replacement-theology ↩︎

STAR OF DAVID/REMPHAN

Posted by expedition44 on

The Magen David or Star of David  (מָגֵן דָּוִד, lit. ’Shield of David‘) is a symbol generally recognized as representing both Jewish identity and Judaism.1 It may surprise you to learn that it has no Biblical roots. The earliest the hexagram can be found in a religious context is in the Leningrad Codex, a manuscript of the Hebrew Bible from 11th-century Cairo.2 It became representative of Zionism after it was chosen as the central symbol for a Jewish national flag at the First Zionist Congress in 1897.3 By the end of World War I, it was an internationally accepted symbol for the Jewish people, used on the gravestones of fallen Jewish soldiers. 4 Today, the star is the central symbol on the national flag of the State of Israel.

Unlike the menorah, the Lion of Judah, the shofar and the lulav, the hexagram was not originally a uniquely Jewish symbol.5 There are some early signs of the symbol,  in Israel, there is a stone bearing a hexagram from the arch of the 3rd–4th century Khirbet Shura synagogue in Galilee.6 It also appears on a temple on Bar Kokhba Revolt coinage which dates from 135 CE.7 You can also find a hexagram on the ancient synagogue at Capernaum.8

A hexagram has been noted on a Jewish tombstone in Italy and another arguably in Egypt 9 (that I viewed in person earlier this year), which both may date as early as the third century.10 The Jews of Apulia were noted for their scholarship in Kabbalah, which doesn’t sit well in most traditional and Messianic Jewish circles.11

Medieval Kabbalistic grimoires show hexagrams among the tables of segulot, but without identifying them as “Shield of David”.12

REMPHAN

In the New Testament, Stephen condemns Jewish idolatry in Acts 7:3: “Ye took up the tabernacle of Moloch, and the star of your god Remphan, figures which ye made to worship them: and I will carry you away beyond Babylon.” Stephen is quoting word-for-word from Septuagint version of Amos 5:26-27.

According to some Biblical scholars, the name refers to the Hebrew Kiyyun or Chiun (Hebrew: כִּיּוּן), However, the words “Kiyyun” (“Chiun”) and “Remphan” are each hapax legomena,13 and the text is unclear as to whether they are common or proper nouns and could be a reference to the planet Saturn (which was also connected to Remphan.) The Masoretic Text reads Kiyyun (Chiun), while the Septuagint renders that name as Rephan. Acts 7:42 quotes the Greek form, showing how the prophetic word moved into the early church. Comparative linguistics links Kiyyun to the Assyrian Kayvân, a name for planet saturn. Ancient peoples called planets “wandering stars” and often built cults around a star god. In more modern history you will recognize these terms from Zoroastrianism.14 

To be clear the Bible just mentions a star, not 5 or 6 points or anything else. The context is about rebellion to the Lord, but a large part of this discussion would have involved symbols of idolatry which is Exodus 20:3-4 language. Furthermore, as I alluded to earlier, there are some Hebrew issues in the text that you may need to be work through. The Hebrew Kiyyun to the Assyrian Kayvân / Chuin or Kewan, was rendered in the Septuagint, as Ῥαιφάν [Raiphan]. Some try to argue that there was no ancient god named Remphan, but I don’t see merit in that argument.

Others may say that the reference is the Star of Ninurta, which has eight points, not six points.15 But the truth of the matter is there are plenty of stars to be found in ancient culture and they didn’t seem to differentiate between 5,6,7 or 8 points; they all held the similar celestial imagery. For instance, I will remind you that in John’s vision of Revelation, Jesus has seven stars in his right hand. Jesus reveals the mystery: “The seven stars are the angels of the seven churches” (Rev 1:20). Thus, there are seven stars or seven angels (messengers) to God’s redeemed people. In this sense it is important to point out that star imagery itself should not necessarily be condemned, it can be viewed in scripture in both positive and negative light. Jesus is called the Morning Star in Revelation 22:26 but Satan is also referenced with a similar term in Isaiah 14:12.

Moloch, Chiun and Remphan are all associated with the star god, Saturn, whose symbol is most commonly viewed as a six pointed star formed by two triangles, but sometimes as an 8 sided star. Saturn was the supreme god of the Chaldeans. Mo, Chiun, Rephan, or Remphan, and Remphis, all are likely the same with the Serapis of the Egyptians, and the calf of the Israelites; and which idolatry was introduced on account of Joseph, who interpreted the dream of Pharaoh’s kine, and provided for the Egyptians in the years of plenty against the years of famine, and was worshipped under the ox with a bushel on his head.

There is also may be a D32 nephalim connection. Giants, with the Hebrews, were called “Rephaim”; and so Mo, who is here meant, is called “Rephan”, and with an epenthesis “Remphan”, because of his gigantic form; which some have concluded from the massy crown on his head, which, with the precious stones, weighed a talent of gold, which David took from thence, 2 Samuel 12:30 for not the then reigning king of the Ammonites, but Molech, or Milchom, their idol, is meant: this is generally thought to be the same with Chiun in Amos; but it does not stand in a place to answer to that; besides, that should not be left untranslated, it not being a proper name of an idol, but signifies a type or form; and the whole may be rendered thus, “but ye have borne the tabernacle of your king, and the type, or form of your images, the star of your god”; which version agrees with Stephens’s, who, from the Septuagint, adds the name of this their king, and their god Rephan, or Remphan.16 Early Hebrew writing easily could have interpreted Rephaim as Rephan. We see these slight textual subtleties all over early ancient transcripts.17 Rephan, very well could point directly to a connection with fallen spiritual beings revered in the ancient world as gods in a Genesis 6 context.

THE SEAL OF SOLOMON

The Seal of Solomon or Ring of Solomon (חותם שלמה, Ḥotam Shlomo) is the legendary signet ring attributed to king Solomon in medieval mystical traditions, from which it developed in parallel within Jewish mysticism, Islamic mysticism and Western occultism. This story comes from the ancient non-canonical writing sometimes referred to as the “Testament of Solomon.” It is often depicted in the shape of either a hexagram or a pentagram. In mystic Jewish lore, the ring is variously described as having given Solomon the power to command the supernatural, including shedim and jinn, and also the ability to speak with animals. Most scholars would say that this is the predecessor to the Star of David.18

While several Biblical passages emphasize Solomon’s supernatural endowment of wisdom, they do not mention him receiving a ring to control demons. Instead, Scripture highlights Solomon’s extensive knowledge of natural phenomena (1 Kings 4:33) and the building of the Temple in Jerusalem (1 Kings 6). No biblical text describes him subjugating evil spirits via an object or talisman. The extra-biblical work called the “Testament of Solomon” is thought to have been compiled between the 1st and 5th centuries AD (well after the Old Testament period). This document is categorized by scholars as pseudepigraphical, meaning it circulates under Solomon’s name but is not recognized as authentic Scripture. In this story, Solomon purportedly receives a ring from an angel, which bears the name or seal of God and grants him authority over demons, enabling him to command them to assist in building the Temple.19

A legend of a magic ring with which the possessor could command demons was already current in the 1st century Josephus as well as the Tractate Gittin (fol. 68) of the Talmud which also has a story involving Solomon, Asmodeus, and a ring with the divine name engraved: Solomon gives the ring and a chain to one Benaiahu son of Jehoiada to catch the demon Ashmedai, to obtain the demon’s help to build the temple; Ashmedai later tricks Solomon into giving him the ring and swallows it.20

There is also a subtle connection by symbolism to the Magi. The Magi are popularly referred to as wise men and kings. The word magi is used in the original Greek text of the Gospel of Matthew. Magi will later be seen in the etymology of the English term magic. Daniel 2:48 will connect with the same words when describing “Elymas the sorcerer” in Acts 13:6–11. Biblically all of these things fall under divination. The image to the right became part of the Alphabet of the Magi much later in history.

Scripture consistently condemns divination. Deuteronomy 18:10-11 states, “Let no one be found among you…who practices divination, conjury, interprets omens, or sorcery.” This prohibition underscores that seeking information from sources other than God is forbidden. The Israelites were called to be distinct from other nations, which frequently turned to occult rituals for guidance.

Leviticus 19:26 also prohibits divination, reinforcing that God’s people must avoid methods used by pagan cultures. King Manasseh’s downfall exemplifies the tragic consequences of defying these commands: “He sacrificed his sons in the fire in the Valley of Hinnom, practiced sorcery, divination, and witchcraft…” (2 Chronicles 33:6). Through such narratives, the Bible highlights the spiritual dangers and moral corruption that accompany attempts to manipulate or predict the future by occult means.

STARBUCKS ANOLOGY

Some may not like this analogy, but of late, it was a popular “western world” analogy to this conversation so I will mention it. You might consider the question, “Is the star of David rooted in idolatry and divination which was/is rival to Yahweh?” There is certainly an argument for that view. But many symbols both in and out of the Bible can go both ways. Foundationally, evil has always sought to take what is good and turn it to be a symbol of Evil. The Bible doesn’t really give us the whole story here, as that isn’t it’s primary intention. At least with the “taking back of the Rainbow”, there is a clear mention in the Bible. The roots of the rainbow representing something good and of God is not arguable. But with the 6-sided star we don’t necessarily have that. To most people if something has occult type of roots or even some strain of a negative connotation, we aren’t going to use the same symbol for our entity of good intention. When people and organizations do things like this it raises red flags, but it doesn’t make it wrong per se.

A good example is the Starbucks logo. The way it is used most recently seems simple. But when you dig into the history you scratch your head wondering why would a corporate coffee company “go there.” You have probably heard this, but most Christians would call the Starbucks logo downright “DEMONIC.” The image in the center of the Starbucks logo is not a mermaid. She’s actually a mythological Siren, a female creature that lured mariners to destruction by her sex appeal. Since coffee beans typically traveled overseas on large container ships, the founders decided to use a “seductive siren” logo that would lure coffee lovers to its stores. The original Starbucks logo was X rated, a bare-breasted, female Siren with two serpentine tails spread apart (a legs spread open sense.)

In an article published by Revealing Truth, it was claimed that the Starbucks logo also has sinister roots. By turning the original Starbucks logo upside down, you can see the image of satan. In 2014, Starbucks got into trouble after its employees were drawing satanic pentagrams and the number “666” in the foam of coffee.  

However, it is quite possible you visit Starbucks every day and look at the logo and can’t see anything evil in it anymore, and care very little about its dark history. As a Christian should you not support the organization because of its roots? I am not sure we should hold the organizations themselves and the people that represent them accountable for choices they specifically didn’t make. Isn’t that a Biblical theme? God isn’t judging you for the actions of others, just you. (I realize there are views within reformed theology that might see this differently.) There is an argument along these same lines with MONSTER energy Drink. I won’t get into that here. If you drink Monster or Starbucks, you shouldn’t have an issue with the Star of David, if you don’t – well than you might have an issue with the Star of David; but they are all slightly different to this analogy.

SEEING THE GOOD

I do believe there is a perspective of seeing the good in things despite their dark past. Isn’t that the restorative nature of scripture? You can choose to let ancient bygones be bygones and see the beauty and peace that the star of David a new meaning and we can see it for what it has come to represent. Shouldn’t we all be hopeful that a dark symbol could find There may even be an element of interpretation not specifically declared in the Bible but theologically deduced. The Star of David and the pomegranate are deeply intertwined in Jewish tradition. The pomegranate is one of the seven species mentioned in Deuteronomy 8:8, symbolizing God’s blessings and the good deeds of the people. It is also associated with the Temple and High Priestly garments and is used during the Feasts of Shavuot and Sukkot.21 The pomegranate’s six petals form the Star of David, and its significance extends to kingship and the Messiah Those who see the Star of David as Biblical, see the pomegranate’s deep red color and the presence of seeds that symbolize blood pointing to Jesus. Together, these symbols can be seen as representative to the holiness of God, the good deeds of the people, and point towards Jesus.

CONCLUSION

Going back to the Star of David. Knowing the History of how a 6-sided star has been used in Ancient Near Eastern history as connected to gods against Yahweh and divination, it seems “off” that Israel and Zionism would then adopt it as their logo claiming to be a God-fearing Nation. Yet there are also some beautiful connections to the pomegranate and seeing the hope that the symbol has come to represent many years before they adopted it.

WORKS CITED:

  1. Jacob Newman; Gabriel Sivan; Avner Tomaschoff (1980). Judaism A–Z. World Zionist Organization. p. 116. ↩︎
  2.  Kittel, Rud; Alt, A; Eissfeldt, Otto; Kahle, Paul; Weil, Gerard E; Schenker, Adrian (1977). Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia. ISBN 9783438052186.
     (in Foreword by Gérard E. Weil). ↩︎
  3. “The Flag and the Emblem” (MFA). “The Star of David became the emblem of Zionist Jews everywhere. Non-Jews regarded it as representing not only the Zionist current in Judaism, but Jewry as a whole.” ↩︎
  4. Reuveni (2017). p. 43. ↩︎
  5. “The Flag and the Emblem” (MFA). “Unlike the menora (candelabrum), the Lion of Judah, the shofar (ram’s horn) and the lulav (palm frond), the Star of David was never a uniquely Jewish symbol.” ↩︎
  6. Star of David – Wikipedia ↩︎
  7. Plaut, W. Gunther (1991). The Magen David: How the six-pointed Star became an emblem for the Jewish People. Washington, D.C.: B’nai B’rith Books. pp. 26, 61–62. ISBN 0-910250-17-0. ↩︎
  8. “King Solomon-s Seal”, with credits Archived October 16, 2013, at the Wayback Machine Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs ↩︎
  9. The Egyptian officials accused the delegation of German archaeologists that has been working on the site’s reconstruction of engraving the Stars of David into the Shrine’s stone.  The engravings are found on a 3rd century B.C, temple located in Elephantine Island in Aswan. ↩︎
  10. Herbert M. Adler, JQR, vol. 14:111. Cited in “Magen David”, Jewish Encyclopedia, retrieved May 28, 2010. ↩︎
  11. www.markfoster.net Archived July 22, 2011, at the Wayback Machine ↩︎
  12. Rabbi Blumenkrantz, “The Seder”, The Laws of Pesach: A Digest 2010: Chap. 9. See also: Archived March 17, 2016, at the Wayback Machine, retrieved May 28, 2010. ↩︎
  13. Horne, Thomas Hartwell. An Introduction to the Critical Study and Knowledge of the Holy Scriptures. Vol. 2. pp. 410ff. ↩︎
  14. “An Etymological Dictionary of Astronomy and Astrophysics – 1”. dictionary.obspm.fr. Retrieved 2023-05-21. ↩︎
  15. Amar Annus, The God Ninurta in the Mythology and Royal Ideology of Ancient Mesopotamia, State Archives of Assyria Studies, Volume XIV Helsinki 2002. Pg. 104 ↩︎
  16. Gill’s Exposition of the Entire Bible ↩︎
  17. “Scholars seek Hebrew Bible’s original text – but was there one?”. Jewish Telegraphic Agency. ↩︎
  18. Protectorat de la République Française au Maroc – Bulletin Officiel – (see page 838), 29th of November 1915, archived in July 2021 ↩︎
  19. https://biblehub.com/q/how_does_solomon_use_his_magic_ring.htm ↩︎
  20. Josephus. Antiquitates Judaicae. ↩︎
  21. https://theancientbridge.com/2016/06/pomegranates-the-star-of-david-and-shavuot-aka-pentecost/ ↩︎

Completely consumed by the Rabbi

Posted by expedition44 on

Education was a big deal the first century. The command to “teach your children” first appeared in Deuteronomy as part of what later became the Shema – the most central of Jewish prayers (prayed 3x daily). Rabbinic literature is filled with references to schools and schooling and to teaching and learning taking place at all levels, and for all ages from the youngest children through adulthood. Jews are often known as “The People of the Book.” Jewish life is lived according to texts, commentary, and interpretation of those texts. The varied methods of teaching them include instructive, experiential, argument, and discussion. [1]


Bet Sefer – “House of the Book” (Ages 6-10yrs) [2]

In the Jewish culture of Jesus’ day kids were taught the Torah (first 5 books of the Bible) in the local Synagogue (church) beginning at the age of 6. They had classes 5 days a week just like we do today. By the time they were about 10 years old, they had memorized all of the Torah – the first five books of the Bible. These classes were called “Bet Sefer.” Anyway, most Jewish kids were pretty well finished with school after this and went home to learn the family trade – like fishing or carpentry or something like that.

Bet Talmud – “House of Learning” (Ages 10-14yrs) [2]

The best of the best among them were allowed to continue in school in something called “Bet Talmud.” Here, they studied all of the Hebrew Scriptures (Our Old Testament) and memorized all of them between the ages of 10-14. During this time, students also learned the Jewish art of questions and answers. Instead of answering with an answer, they were taught to answer with another question. In this way, students could demonstrate both their knowledge and their great regard for the Scriptures. They were taught to always be curious about the Scriptures.

Look at how Jesus was described as a young boy in Luke 2:46-47 – “After three days they found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers.”

Bet Midrash – “House of Study” [2]

Very few of these students ever made it this far. For the few who did there was still another set of classes called “Bet Midrash.” This meant you were on track to become a Rabbi. To become a Rabbi you had to first train under a Rabbi, to walk their every step. The rabbi would grill you and ask you all kinds of questions, because he was trying to find out if you were good enough to be his student. He wanted to know if you knew enough, but even more importantly, if you could be like him in all areas of your life. If he decided that he didn’t think you could do it, then he would tell you to go back to the family business. It was very rare, but if he thought highly enough of you, he would become your teacher, and it would be your goal to become like him in every way. You would agree to take on his “beliefs” and his interpretations of the scriptures. This was called his “yoke” and he would say to you, “come follow me.” The disciple’s (also called “talmudim”) job was to become like the rabbi in every way. If the rabbi was hurt and had a limp, you might see his healthy disciples walking behind him (in his footsteps or “in the dust” of the rabbi) with a limp.

To this description their arose a Hebrew Idiom, “May you be covered in the dust of the Rabbi” and the source of this saying is the Mishnah, Avot 1:4. (The Mishnah is a collection of rabbinic thought from 200 BC to 200 AD that still forms the core of Jewish belief today.) The quotation is from Yose ben Yoezer (yo-EHZ-er). He was one of the earliest members of the rabbinic movement, who lived about two centuries before Jesus:

Let thy house be a meeting-house for the wise;
and powder thyself in the dust of their feet;
and drink their words with thirstiness. [3]

These teachers were called “sages” before 70 AD (hakamim, or “the wise”). After that the title “rabbi” began to be used. [4] The middle line is sometimes translated as “sit amid the dust of their feet,” and understood as being about humbly sitting at the feet of one’s teacher to learn from him.

When we catch up with Jesus in Matthew 4:18-22 and 16:13-20 He is walking beside the Sea of Galilee, and sees two brothers; Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were fishing.

As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fisherman. “Come, follow me, ” Jesus said, “and I will make you fishers of men.” At once they left their nets and followed him. Matthew 4:18-20

What has always struck me as interesting in regard to this text is that they left what they were doing at once. No delay, they just dropped everything and followed.

Going on from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John. They were in a boat with their father Zebedee, preparing their nets. Jesus called them, and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him. Matthew 4:21-22

No questions asked, they just left. They didn’t help their father bring in the boat or finish the day of work or anything…they left immediately.

Why? In hindsight we can say, “well it was Jesus, of course they would follow him.” But while Jesus was well known at this point, He may have been considered just another rabbi and I’m sure he wasn’t considered the son of God at this point by these people. So, what caused them to drop everything and leave?

Well, the answer is that every kid in the first century dreamed of being great. And great in Judeo Rome meant either a roman Centurian or a Rabbi.

When my oldest son Ty was about 4, we would ask him what he wanted to be when he grew up. He would say a “garbage man photographer.” We would laugh and joke saying things like, “wow this kid is really aiming for the stars!” Not a garbage man, not just any kind of photographer, a very specific one, a garbage man photographer! Ok so not every kid may have wanted to be a Rabbi or a Centurian, but the great majority of them dreamed that one day that is what they would become! They dreamed of this day.

No you have also probably read my book or heard me teach that when you harmonize the gospels you find out that Jesus actually called the disciples three different times. The first two they followed Him for a few days and then went back to what they did… they went fishing… That was the normal way to follow a Rabbi. But Jesus was asking for something different than other Rabbi’s of the day, He was asking for something that He still asks of us today… to Follow him and never go back to our former life. To be completely consumed by the Rabbi. THAT WAS RADICAL FOR HIS DAY AND IT IS STILL RADICAL TODAY! The third time Jesus calls them they get the picture.

But let me clarify something that is astounding here. Usually in Rabbinical training when students were chosen by the Rabbi, they were around 14 years old. The Rabbi has watched them, and you might even say known them intimately for 10 years. That’s why he could choose them. Thats how they made the cut. They spent 10 years convincing the Rabbi they were worth it to him. But you see here Jesus is setting the tone for a backwards kingdom dynamic. This is profound… He can choose them without ever meeting them because He is God. He already knows them more intimately than any Rabbi with 10 years or more knowledge would ever know them. And what is even more profound is that He is choosing them not based on their merit, but on His; their value was in Him. Today your kingdom value isn’t in your doing but according to the purpose that God has already manifested in you. You have been called because God already believes you are worthy of the mission. That was why the YOKE OF JESUS was described as EASY!

That is the beginning of their calling into Rabbinical training, now let’s fast forward to a couple years later. I call these Jesus’ field trips. I have an extensive article about one of these when Jesus takes them to check out some pigs. Remember when you were a kid, and you went to school and then you heard you were going on a field trip, and it was amazing? You didn’t care where you were going, wherever it was, whatever you were going to do, it was way better than school right?

Well in this particular instance with Jesus that might not actually be the case. You see in Matthew 16:13 it says, “When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi”. We have to go back to 15:21 and we read “Leaving that place, Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon” to figure out how far they walked to go on this field trip. Jesus and his disciples would have traveled by boat from Magadan to Bethsaida. Bethsaida is located on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee. This body of water is nearly 700 ft below sea level. From there, they likely spent some days making the 25 mile ascent to Caesarea Philippi, which was located at an elevation 1,150 ft above sea level. It is referred to as Mt Hermon.

In other words, this might not have been such a great field trip, or maybe it was? It was a 25 mile hike up a mountain in a day. (Reminds me of our Eagle Trek days at my local Grade school doing the 20+ mile hike around Lake Geneva.)

This is also where I have to hold myself back because I could talk for days on this part, let me try to hold back my enthusiasm and keep this brief.

At Caesarea Philippi, Jesus and his disciples would have seen the largest rock formation in Israel with pagan statues and at least fourteen temples in the background. In Old Testament times, Caesarea Philippi, then known as Banias, sat at the foothills of Mount Herman. The early Canaanites worshiped Baal at Banias, and prisoners were thrown into the “Gates of Hell”, to determine guilt for a crime. Ferocious waters gushed from a very large spring of this limestone cave. In ancient times, the water was fast-moving and would have propelled the bodies over the rocks, and death was nearly guaranteed but if they survived – well then, they were thought to have not been guilty of the crime accused of. Eventually, the cult of Baal was replaced with the worship of Greek fertility gods and Caesar but still carried negative connotations.

To the ancient Greeks who settled in this area, the cave at Caesarea Philippi was the gate to the underworld, where fertility gods dwelt during the winter and then returned to the earth each spring. The people also believed the cave held the “Gates to Hades.” The idea of these Greek fertility Gods is laced in the idea that fallen spiritual beings would “take” humans by their lustful desires. If you know anything about Greek mythology you know this sexuality of the “gods” was rampant. But it goes back even further than that.

The location of Caesarea Philippi is significant because the entire region was considered the domain of the Nephilim and their disembodied spirits. That is where the Greek mythology of the “gods” gets its roots. Mount Hermon was ground zero for the Genesis 6 transgression and where we are told in 1 Enoch that the fallen elohim made their pact to take human women. Additionally, this is also the location where King Jereboam constructed his adulterous center of worship.

At the time of Jesus, the most important god in Caesarea Philippi was Pan, the Greek god of shepherds and the wild. Pan’s hindquarters, legs, and horns are like that of a goat, while his upper body was of a man. The Greeks believed Pan was born in this cave, and he is often associated with music and fertility. Each spring, the people of Caesarea Philippi engaged in wicked deeds, including prostitution and sexual interaction between humans and goats to entice the return of Pan.

13 When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”
14 They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”
15 “But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”
16 Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”
17 Jesus replied, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by flesh and blood, but by my Father in heaven. 18 And I tell you that you are Peter,[b] and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades[c] will not overcome it. 19 I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be[d] bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be[e] loosed in heaven.” 20 Then he ordered his disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.

Back up to where I started, when the disciples were called, Jesus was able to choose them because their identity was already in Him. Remember that? Three years later, at Caesarea Philippi, Jesus wanted each disciple to fully understand His identity, not only God the Father’s.  For three years, the disciples had heard his teachings and witnessed his healing ministry, but Jesus wasn’t just a miracle worker and healer. He wanted to be certain these disciples understood his complete, divine nature and to know the sovereignty of his Father’s kingdom was available for everyone to experience for all time.

Now, imagine Jesus standing at a distance, looking at this cliff with the pagan statues in the niches. Since this was a pagan “red light zone or the other side of the tracks,” He then said to Peter and his disciples, “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock, I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” He was contrasting the most notorious powers of the day with the power that was soon to be infused in them.

This day in Caesarea Philippi is when Jesus founded his church. His church would symbolically be built on the “rock” of Caesarea Philippi, one then filled with niches for pagan idols and where ungodly beliefs and values dominated. This huge rock’s destiny was like so many ancient tells in Israel: to be crushed and destroyed as rabble, and where God’s kingdom would be built on its ruins.

It is a story of victoriously taking what was broken and worthless, even corrupt and breathing new life into it. The regrafting of the world for the kingdom of Jesus.

This is similar to Christ’s message about the temple in 70AD. That’s a bit later in the book of Matthew.

Matthew 24:1-2 : “As Jesus left the temple and was walking away, His disciples came up to Him to point out its buildings. ‘Do you see all these things?’ He replied. ‘Truly I tell you, not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down.'”

You see Jesus didn’t need what the world had or has. He was defining a new covenant. Today we aren’t looking for a new temple to be built because we are the temple. His identity is in us. The purpose and plan is right here in our hearts and it isn’t so much of our work, but Christ in us.

He’s telling the disciples that they are going to help Christ build the church among those
types of people. He’s not focusing all His attention on the religious people hanging out in
the synagogues. The plan is through the least of these, the meek. That is the backwards kingdom.

Jesus had given Peter a new name, “Petros,” meaning a single stone. This is a terrific wordplay “Petra,” means a massive rock or formation; fixed, immovable, enduring – yet they were looking at the Mt Hermon, the biggest place of Evil and He says, they will not prevail. It is backwards thinking. The least of these.

In the ancient world, gates were defensive structures to keep the unwanted out, but they were also where the city courts were in session. They were where the wise men gathered to make decisions that would influence the rest of the city, it was the place where decisions were made to go to battle.

Are you following me… He is gathering His people at the gates to say you’re going to make a difference that is going to revolutionize the world and the kingdom of Jesus. And part of this is battle language against the principalities but it’s not really your battle – your identity, your presence, your power is mine. You are the temple of the Holy Spirit you are my ambassador. You don’t have to do much – It is Me in you that is going to get the job done. But the relationship of grace is somewhat reciprocal. A response is part of the covenant relationship. I need you to put one foot in front of the other and walk to the front line of the battle. My yoke is easy but you have to walk intimately with me in deep devotion.


Jesus is still calling today. He’s calling you! You see, upon that rock, the people in your city, your school, your work, your circle of friends, He wants to use you to build His church. And not even the gates of hell can get in the way, because God Himself has empowers you to make it happen. But it all comes back to you – right where you are. Christ is walking down the beach towards you. He’s calling out, “Come and follow me.” What will your answer be? Can you follow those feet?

MAY YOU BE COVERED IN THE DUST OF YOUR RABBI!

May you be consumed to the Core.

This is a PDF small group discussion to accommodate this article.

handout consumed by the dust of RabbiDownload
  1. https://amitchildren.org/ancient-jewish-education/
  2. https://stevecorn.com/2010/11/01/jewish-educational-system/
  3. Pirqe Aboth 1:4 
  4. Can We Call Jesus “Rabbi”?

The Dead Sea Scrolls

Posted by expedition44 on

Today was a life milestone. I visited the home of the Dead Sea Scrolls. I have dreamed of this since I was young. As I would love to tell you everything I know about them, I think I will keep this to a brief introduction.

The Dead Sea Scrolls, also called the Qumran Caves Scrolls, are a set of ancient Jewish manuscripts (some original biblical texts) from the Second Temple period. They were discovered over a period of 10 years, between 1946 and 1956, at the Qumran Caves near Ein Feshkha in the West Bank, on the northern shore of the Dead Sea. These date back to the third century BCE.[1] 

The Shrine of the Book was built as a repository for the first seven scrolls discovered at Qumran in 1947. The unique white dome embodies the lids of the jars in which the first scrolls were found. This symbolic building, a kind of sanctuary intended to express profound spiritual meaning, is considered an international landmark of modern architecture. Designed by American Jewish architects Armand P. Bartos and Frederic J. Kiesler, it was dedicated in an impressive ceremony on April 20, 1965.

The contrast between the white dome and the black wall alongside it alludes to the tension evident in the scrolls between the spiritual world of the “Sons of Light” (as the Judean Desert sectarians called themselves) and the “Sons of Darkness” (the sect’s enemies). The corridor leading into the Shrine resembles a cave, recalling the site where the ancient manuscripts were discovered. [12]

2017 marks the 70th anniversary of the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Long story short, in late 1947 a young Bedouin boy tossed a stone into a cave, heard the clink of breaking pottery, and would later scramble in to find the tattered remains of ancient scrolls from the centuries leading up to and after the Common Era. If this modern story of ancient discoveries is new to you, you’ve got to ask a very important question. Why does any of this matter today?

These are the oldest Biblical manuscripts that we have and therefore have made us consider the texts of our later translations of the Bible. [2] Today I visited the Shrine of the Book Museum in Jerusalem where the Dead Sea Scrolls and fragments are located and are now mostly the property and heritage of Judaism.[4] There are 981 different manuscripts (discovered in 1946/1947 and in 1956) from 11 caves,[5] in Qumran in the eastern Judaean Desert in the West Bank.[6] Archaeologists have long associated the scrolls with the ancient Jewish sect known as the Essenes, although some recent interpretations have challenged this connection and argue that priests in Jerusalem or other unknown Jewish groups wrote the scrolls.[7][8]

Most of the scrolls are in Hebrew, with some written in Aramaic and Greek.[9] The texts are written on parchment, some on papyrus, and one on copper.[10] The scrolls cover a wide range of topics and genres. The biblical scrolls include texts from every book of the Old Testament, with the possible exception of Esther. Other scrolls are Jewish sectarian writings, administrative documents, deeds of sale, and even divorce and marriage records. Despite the name, the majority of the scrolls are preserved as fragments, small scraps of what were once larger scrolls and documents. While some scrolls are several feet long, many smaller fragments are no larger than a fingertip. To date, more than 25,000 fragments have been discovered, and extensive work has gone into combining, preserving, translating, and studying these various fragments.[11]

The Dead Sea Scrolls shed light on the period between Alexander the Great’s conquest of Palestine in 332 BCE through the Great Revolt, which ended in 73 CE, with an emphasis on the period from the Maccabean Revolt (168–164 BCE) through the turn of the century. However, in order to fully comprehend the Qumran sect, the reasons for its establishment, and its unique character, one must study Judaism and Jews in the Second Temple Period. It is essential to understand the political realities, external influences, and theology of the time. The Second Temple period, or Second Commonwealth, began in 538 BCE with a declaration by Cyrus the Great, king of Persia and Media, that the Jews could return to the Land of Israel and rebuild their Temple. The Temple and the city of Jerusalem were rebuilt by the year 515 BCE, and, in contrast to the First Commonwealth, the high priest became the secular as well as religious authority. This system of government lasted into the Hasmonean period and became an object of protest in the Dead Sea Scrolls, as well as in other literature of the period. [13]

The scrolls gave historians great insight into the ancient forms of these languages, and they also changed the way scholars studied the Old Testament. For example, the scroll with the most complete version of the book of Psalms had about 40 psalms, including three that were previously unknown. One of these unknown psalms was a “plea for deliverance,” which made note of “evil incarnation.” The Dead Sea Scrolls provide evidence of the diversity of religious thought in early Judaism and the Hebrew Bible’s text development. They revealed the psalms were once sequenced in a different order. This was interesting to scholars because the texts had long been so uniform, and seeing flexibility with the wording and organization was stunning. Few people, however, were able to read and analyze the texts. The Dead Sea Scrolls were long hidden away until they were “liberated” in the 1990s. [14] Later that year, the Biblical Archaeology Society was able to publish the “Facsimile Edition of the Dead Sea Scrolls”, after an intervention of the Israeli government and the IAA.[15] In 1991 Emanuel Tov was appointed as the chairman of the Dead Sea Scrolls Foundation, and publication of the scrolls followed in the same year. Researchers at Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati, Ohio, Ben Zion Wacholder and Martin Abegg, announced the creation of a computer program that used previously published scrolls to reconstruct the unpublished texts.[16] Officials at the Huntington Library in San Marino, California, led by head librarian William Andrew Moffett, announced that they would allow researchers unrestricted access to the library’s complete set of photographs of the scrolls. In the fall of that year, Wacholder published 17 documents that had been reconstructed in 1988 from a concordance and had come into the hands of scholars outside of the international team; in the same month, there occurred the discovery and publication of a complete set of facsimiles of the Cave 4 materials at the Huntington Library. Thereafter, the officials of the IAA agreed to lift their long-standing restrictions on the use of the scrolls.[17]

If you keep a close eye on the footnotes of your Bible, you’ll see a number of places where the words of modern translations are different than those read by your parents or grandparents. One of the reasons for this is that we know more about ancient scribal culture and have access to hoards more biblical manuscripts today than we ever have. This means the textual foundation under the hood of most any contemporary translation is better than it has ever been. Whether you’re a fan of the NIV, NRSV, ESV, or ABC-123, each new edition involves incremental change to the actual words on the page.

But this sword cuts in both directions. While we have far more evidence to work with, if the Scrolls taught us anything about Old Testament scripture, it is generally true that the older the manuscripts the more varied they become. Simply put: human scribes were not photocopiers and no two manuscripts are the same. Scribes copied texts but also interpreted them. That was their job. It wasn’t trickery or introducing error at every turn. This often resulted in slow growth of biblical texts with manuscripts having relatively modest variations in content. A word here, a phrase there, and in some cases, more than one edition of a book circulated. To many modern readers, this might sound like a major problem. I’d rather see it as an opportunity. An opportunity for artful restoration of a text that is both ancient and sacred. Let me show you what I mean.

I really like the way RELEVANT handles this:

Have you ever been reading the Old Testament and then, wham!, some guy shows up in the story and starts gouging out people’s eyeballs? I have, very alarming. (Gotta love the Old Testament though, so old school!) Of course, I’m talking about the incident that plays out in 1 Samuel 10-11, just after Saul became Israel’s first king. In most ancient manuscripts and modern Bible translations, chapter 10 ends with a statement of a small group uttering lack of confidence in Saul’s ability to defeat the Ammonites (1 Sam 10:27). Chapter 11 then opens with the sudden introduction of an Ammonite king named Nahash, who insists on only making a treating with the Israelites so long as he can gouge out each and all’s right eyeball (1 Sam 11:1-2). Not only is this a bad deal, its super confusing in the context of the narrative. Why? Something is missing.

At least seven copies of the book of Samuel were found among the Dead Sea Scrolls. One of these, known as 4QSamuala, just happens to be the oldest known manuscript of the book in existence (dated to around 50-25 BCE). In this version of the text, we find a full paragraph tucked in between the end of chapter 10 and beginning of chapter 11. The translation of this Dead Sea Scroll reads as follows:[Na]hash king of the [A]mmonites oppressed the Gadites and the Reubenites viciously. He put out the right [ey]e of a[ll] of them and brought fe[ar and trembling] on [Is]rael. Not one of the Israelites in the region be[yond the Jordan] remained [whose] right eye Naha[sh king of] the Ammonites did n[ot pu]t out, except seven thousand men [who escaped from] the Ammonites and went to [Ja]besh-gilead. 

What we have here is essentially a cut scene seemingly lost in the generations of copying all other biblical manuscripts. From this content, we learn who this Nahash figure is and why he had the sadistic penchant for collecting eyeballs. Incidentally, the ancient Jewish historian Josephus also seems to have been aware or this detail as he hints at it in his own retelling of Saul’s life (Antiquities 6.5.1). This is the single largest difference discovered when the biblical Dead Sea Scrolls were compared with all previously known witness to the Old Testament. The spectrum of other variations revealed by the scrolls ranges from the spelling of terms, to added/omitted words, or even sentences. While many common Bible translations have dabbled in the Dead Sea Scrolls and included new readings, to date the NRSV is the only one bold enough to integrate the reading described here in 1 Samuel.

[18] https://relevantmagazine.com/faith/how-the-dead-sea-scroll-discovery-changed-christianity/

Conclusion

The Dead Sea Scrolls are important for a number of reasons. First, they shed light on an otherwise known Jewish group. Actually, the people who wrote the Scrolls never refer to themselves as Jews. They are intriguingly vague about their identity. Second, the Scrolls indicate that certain books of the Bible were more popular than others, a conclusion we could draw similarly from the New Testament quotations of the Old Testament. Third, the use of the Old Testament as an authoritative source for biblical interpretation and personal and community life matches material from the New Testament as well. Finally, the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls allows us to access Old Testament manuscripts more than 1,000 years older than we previously possessed. Before the discovery of the Scrolls, the oldest complete manuscript of any Old Testament book dated to the 10th century A.D. To be clear, if Moses wrote the Pentateuch in circa 1400 B.C., then our earliest copy of his complete work in Hebrew dated 2,400 years after it was written! It is with justification that the Dead Sea Scrolls are considered by many the most important biblical archaeological discovery of all time.[19]

WORKS CITED:

  1.  “The Digital Dead Sea Scrolls: Nature and Significance”. Israel Museum Jerusalem. Retrieved 4 November 2023.
  2. “Dead Sea Scrolls | Definition, Discovery, History, & Facts | Britannica”. http://www.britannica.com.
  3. Lash, Mordechay; Goldstein, Yossi; Shai, Itzhaq (2020). “Underground-Archaeological Research in the West Bank, 1947–1968: Management, Complexity, and Israeli Involvement”. Bulletin of the History of Archaeology. 
  4. Duhaime, Bernard; Labadie, Camille (2020). “Intersections and Cultural Exchange: Archaeology, Culture, International Law and the Legal Travels of the Dead Sea Scrolls”. Canada’s Public Diplomacy. Palgrave Macmillan Series in Global Public Diplomacy. Cham: Springer International Publishing. p. 146
  5. “Hebrew University Archaeologists Find 12th Dead Sea Scrolls Cave”. The Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Archived from the original on 2 June 2017.
  6. Donahue, Michelle Z. (10 February 2017). “New Dead Sea Scroll Find May Help Detect Forgeries”. nationalgeographic.com. Archived from the original on 15 June 2018.
  7. Ofri, Ilani (13 March 2009). “Scholar: The Essenes, Dead Sea Scroll ‘authors,’ never existed”. Ha’aretz. Archived from the original on 6 January 2018.
  8. Golb, Norman (5 June 2009). “On the Jerusalem Origin of the Dead Sea Scrolls” (PDF). University of Chicago Oriental Institute. Archived (PDF) from the original on 10 June 2010.
  9. Vermes, Geza (1977). The Dead Sea Scrolls. Qumran in Perspective. London: Collins. p. 15. 
  10. McCarthy, Rory (27 August 2008). “From papyrus to cyberspace”. The Guardian. Archived from the original on 22 December 2016.
  11. https://www.biblicalarchaeology.org/daily/biblical-artifacts/dead-sea-scrolls/what_are_the_dead_sea_scrolls/
  12. https://www.imj.org.il/en/wings/shrine-book/dead-sea-scrolls
  13. https://cojs.org/dead_sea_scrolls_overview/
  14. https://www.discovermagazine.com/the-sciences/at-2-000-years-old-the-dead-sea-scrolls-help-inform-ancient-language
  15. “Copies of Dead Sea Scrolls To Go Public – Release Would End Scholars’ Dispute'”. The Seattle Times. 22 September 1991. Archived from the original on 21 October 2013
  16. HUC-JIR Mourns Dr. Ben Zion Wacholder, Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion, 31 March 2011, archived from the original on 18 November 2015
  17. “Dead Sea Scrolls”. Encyclopædia Britannica. Archived from the original on 12 April 2009. 
  18. https://relevantmagazine.com/faith/how-the-dead-sea-scroll-discovery-changed-christianity/
  19. https://apologeticspress.org/the-dead-sea-scrolls-and-the-bible-5741/

Translations in Giza

Posted by expedition44 on

Today I was able to view the Merneptah Stele. This is a pretty big deal in my theological world. The Merneptah Stele, also known as the Israel Stele or the Victory Stele of Merneptah, is an inscription by Merneptah, a pharaoh in ancient Egypt who reigned from 1213 to 1203 BCE. It was discovered by Flinders Petrie at Thebes in 1896, and it is now housed at the Egyptian Museum in Cairo where I visited and was given hands on access to this today.[1][2]

A stele or stela (plural stelae) is a commemorative slab decorated with text and/or images. Ancient Egyptians erected stelae for many purposes including to document historical events, to record decrees (the Rosetta Stone is a famous example), and to remember the dead. [3] Such monuments were made by a variety of cultures in the ancient world, including the Assyrians, Maya, Greeks and Romans. The most common Egyptian term for a stela is wedj, which originally meant “command” and stems from wedj–nesu, “royal decree.” Various qualifiers could be used to further classify wedj, such as wedj-her-tash – “boundary stela” – or wedj-en-nekhtu – “victory stela.” [4]

The “victory stela” here has text engraved and is largely an account of Merneptah’s victory over the ancient Libyans and their allies, but the last three of the 28 lines (in the large photo you will view this as slightly darker colored) deal with a separate campaign in Canaan, then part of Egypt’s imperial possessions. It is sometimes referred to as the “Israel Stele” because a majority of scholars translate a set of hieroglyphs in line 27 as “Israel”. Alternative translations have been advanced but are not widely accepted.[5] The stele represents the earliest textual reference to Israel and the only reference from ancient Egypt. [6] It is one of four known inscriptions from the Iron Age that date to the time of and mention ancient Israel by name, with the others being the Mesha Stele, the Tel Dan Stele, and the Kurkh Monoliths.[7][8][9]

For reference here is the timeline of Pharoahs of Egypt before and after the Exodus: [10]

  • 1295 BCE – 1294 BCEThe reign of Ramesses I in Egypt.
  • 1294 BCE – 1279 BCEThe reign of Seti I in Egypt.
  • 1279 BCE – 1212 BCEReign of Ramesses II (The Great) in Egypt.
  • 1212 BCE – 1202 BCEReign of Merneptah in Egypt.

It was first translated by Wilhelm Spiegelberg.[11] Spiegelberg described the stele as “engraved on the rough back of the stele of Amenhotep III. The inscription says it was carved in the 5th year of Merneptah of the 19th dynasty. From a strictly historical perspective here us what scholars have noted. Egypt was the dominant power in the region during the long reign of Merneptah’s predecessor, Ramesses II, but Merneptah and one of his nearest successors, Ramesses III, faced significant invasions. Traditionally Egyptians only document the victories, not the losses. The final lines of this stele deal with a campaign or situation in the East. Traditionally the Egyptians had concerned themselves only with cities, so the problem presented by Israel is interesting in the ay it is breifly mentioned. Merneptah and Ramesses III were thought to have been fairly successful at fighting off their enemies, but history shows us that it is at this time that Egypt ceased to continue control over Canaan – the last evidence of an Egyptian presence in the area is the name of Ramesses VI (1141–1133 BC) inscribed on a statue base from Megiddo. [12]

In terms of translating the language, the “nine bows” is a term the Egyptians used to refer to their enemies;[13] Israel is clear in the transcription and was thought of as smaller units scattered throughout the region, –Canaan might here refer to the city of Gaza,[14] Based on their determinatives, Canaan referred to the land whilst Israel referred to the people.[15]

The line which refers to Israel is below (shown in reverse to match the English translation; the original Egyptian is in right-to-left script):

According to The Oxford History of the Biblical World, this “foreign people … sign is typically used by the Egyptians to signify nomadic groups or peoples, without a fixed city-state home, thus implying a seminomadic or rural status for ‘Israel’ at that time”.[16] The phrase “wasted, bare of seed” is formulaic, and often used of defeated nations – it usually would imply the people posed some sort of a threat to Egypt.[17] The Merneptah stele is considered to be the first extra-biblical reference to ancient Israel in ancient history and is widely considered to be authentic and providing historical information.[18][19]

There isn’t much scholarly disagreement on the interpretation. It is worth pointing out that in the 4th inscription the image I use above interprets seed/grain. In many other known stela inscriptions this notation meant that famine had come, and conflict resulted in another nation or peoples trying to “war” over Egypt’s grain stores. But in the ancient world this notation is much broader than that and simply means conflict. [20]

DOES THIS GIVE US A CLEAR DATE ON THE EXODUS?

Sadly, no. The dates of the Exodus are still largely inconclusive. Many have chimed in such as Flavius Josephus (c.70 CE), but unfortunately there are some things in Egyptian history that don’t seem to line up. The easiest explanation I have already implied. Most of the documentation of Egypt is in the form of “VICTORY” stela and they are just that, embellished records of victory, not failure. The pharaohs were known widely for covering their less than astounding feats. According to Biblical chronology, the Exodus took place in the 890th year before the destruction of the Temple by the Babylonians in 421 BCE (generally accepted date: 587 BCE). [21] This was 1310 BCE (1476 BCE). In this year, the greatest warlord Egypt ever knew, Thutmose III, deposed his aunt Hatshepsut and embarked on a series of conquests, extending the Egyptian sphere of influence and tribute over Israel and Syria and crossing the Euphrates into Mesopotamia itself. While it is interesting that this date actually saw the death of an Egyptian ruler – and there have been those who tried to identify Queen Hatshepsut as the Pharaoh of the Exodus – the power and prosperity of Egypt at this time is hard to square with the biblical account of the Exodus.

Some historians have been attracted by the name of the store-city Ramses built by the Israelites before the Exodus. They have drawn connections to the best-known Pharaoh of that name, Ramses II, or Ramses the Great, and set the Exodus around his time, roughly 1134 BCE (1300 BCE). [22] In order to do this, they had to reduce the time between the Exodus and the destruction of the Temple by 180 years, which they did by reinterpreting the 480 years between the Exodus and the building of the Temple (1 Kings 6: 1) as twelve generations of forty years. By “correcting” the Bible and setting a generation equal to twenty five years, these imaginary twelve generations become 300 years. Is this acceptable? Generations are fairly generic language in the Bible so there is some textual merit to do this. Others feel strongly that such “adjustments” of the Biblical text imply that the Bible cannot be trusted, Ramses 11 was a conqueror second only to Thutmose III. And as in the case of Thutmose III, the Egyptian records make it clear that nothing even remotely resembling the Exodus happened anywhere near his time of history. However, I come back to, the more powerful and well liked the rulers were, the greater power they had to dictate what was remembered of them. It is also worth noting that Egyptian dating is a disaster in the scholarly community. Few things agree.

Does this stone tell us who the Pharoah of the Exodus was? No; but perhaps it supplies you with a more educated proposition.

WORKS CITED

  1. Drower 1995, p. 221.
  2. Redmount 2001, pp. 71–72, 97.
  3. https://www.artic.edu/articles/824/reading-ancient-egyptian-art-a-curator-answers-common-questions
  4. https://arce.org/resource/stelae-ancient-egypts-versatile-monumental-form/
  5. Sparks 1998, pp. 96–.
  6. Hasel 1998, p. 194.
  7.  Lemche 1998, pp. 46, 62: “No other inscription from Palestine, or from Transjordan in the Iron Age, has so far provided any specific reference to Israel… The name of Israel was found in only a very limited number of inscriptions, one from Egypt, another separated by at least 250 years from the first, in Transjordan. A third reference is found in the stele from Tel Dan – if it is genuine, a question not yet settled. The Assyrian and Mesopotamian sources only once mentioned a king of Israel, Ahab, in a spurious rendering of the name.”
  8. Maeir, Aren. Maeir, A. M. 2013. Israel and Judah. pp. 3523–27, The Encyclopedia of Ancient History. New York: Blackwell. The earliest certain mention of the ethnonym Israel occurs in a victory inscription of the Egyptian king Merenptah, his well-known “Israel Stela” (c. 1210 BCE); recently, a possible earlier reference has been identified in a text from the reign of Rameses II (see Rameses I–XI). Thereafter, no reference to either Judah or Israel appears until the ninth century. The pharaoh Sheshonq I (biblical Shishak; see Sheshonq I–VI) mentions neither entity by name in the inscription recording his campaign in the southern Levant during the late tenth century. In the ninth century, Israelite kings, and possibly a Judaean king, are mentioned in several sources: the Aramaean stele from Tel Dan, inscriptions of Shalmaneser III of Assyria, and the stela of Mesha of Moab. From the early eighth century onward, the kingdoms of Israel and Judah are both mentioned somewhat regularly in Assyrian and subsequently Babylonian sources, and from this point on there is relatively good agreement between the biblical accounts on the one hand and the archaeological evidence and extra-biblical texts on the other.
  9. Fleming, Daniel E. (1998-01-01). “Mari and the Possibilities of Biblical Memory”. Revue d’Assyriologie et d’Archéologie Orientale. 92 (1): 41–78. JSTOR 23282083. The Assyrian royal annals, along with the Mesha and Dan inscriptions, show a thriving northern state called Israël in the mid—9th century, and the continuity of settlement back to the early Iron Age suggests that the establishment of a sedentary identity should be associated with this population, whatever their origin. In the mid—14th century, the Amarna letters mention no Israël, nor any of the biblical tribes, while the Merneptah stele places someone called Israël in hill-country Palestine toward the end of the Late Bronze Age. The language and material culture of emergent Israël show strong local continuity, in contrast to the distinctly foreign character of early Philistine material culture.“
  10. https://www.worldhistory.org/timeline/pharaoh/
  11. Nestor 2015, p. 296.
  12. Drews 1995, pp. 18–20.
  13. William Museum, UK: Ancient Egypt
  14.  H. Jacob Katzenstein, ‘Gaza in the Egyptian Texts of the New Kingdom,’ Journal of the American Oriental Society, January-March 1982, Vol. 102, No. 1 pp. 111-113 pp.111-112
  15.  Smith 2002, p. 26.
  16. FitzWilliam Museum, UK: Ancient Egypt
  17. H. Jacob Katzenstein, ‘Gaza in the Egyptian Texts of the New Kingdom,’ Journal of the American Oriental Society, January-March 1982, Vol. 102, No. 1 pp. 111-113 pp.111-112
  18. Dever 2009, p. 89–91.
  19. Faust, Avraham (2016). Israel’s Ethnogenesis: Settlement, Interaction, Expansion and Resistance (reprinted ed.)
  20. Jones, Daniel (2003) [1917], Roach, Peter; Hartmann, James; Setter, Jane (eds.), English Pronouncing Dictionary, Cambridge University Press, ISBN 978-3-12-539683-8
  21. Contrary to the Jewish historical tradition, the generally accepted date is 166 years earlier, or 587 BCE (see “Fixing the History Books – Dr. Chaim Heifetz’s Revision of Persian History,” in the Spring 199.1 issue of Jewish Action). This difference applies to all Mesopotamian and Egyptian history prior to the Persian period. The dates for Egyptian history given in the history books are therefore off by this amount. For our purposes, we will use the corrected date followed by the generally accepted date in parenthesis.
  22. Some people have been excited about the generally accepted date for Ramses II coming so close to the traditional date for the Exodus. This is a mistake, as Egyptian and Mesopotamian histories are linked. If Ramses II lived c.1300 BCE, then the destruction of the Temple was in 587 BCE, and the Exodus was in 1476 BCE.

the gospel

Posted by expedition44 on

What is the gospel? Most people answering this would go right into soteriology and likely give you some step plan for salvation, the spiritual laws, the romans road or some other systematic cleverly devised way of super simplifying the message of Jesus. For nearly the last 2000 years this wasn’t the way people thought of the gospel. In the Bible we read stories of people considering “conversion” into the way of Jesus and it never comes off as some checklist. These plans are almost always laced with some kind of Penal Substitutionary theory of atonement and feel very bait and switch. If that was the intention of the text, wouldn’t one of the authors simply have given it to us? But we don’t get that. In fact, we don’t get anything in history close to this until perhaps the reformation with Luther and Calvin. But they wouldn’t be considered evangelists by today’s standards. It isn’t until many years after that when Moody, Billy Sunday, Charles Finney, Bill Bright, and Billy Graham that we really get the church wide view pushing decisions to follow Jesus and altar calls of momentary decision. If we go back to the pages of the Bible what we find is quite different. We see mind wrenching decisions of people determining whether they want to change their entire life to follow the way of Jesus. This is followed by being baptized into this way of life and then likely joining this “ALL IN” community to continue their immersion into discipleship. Jesus literally used the 12 as an example to step away from life as you know it and enter into a life of total commitment. This kind of a decision was intended to be pondered and your old life to be exchanged for a new one should you take the dip.

The Greek word εὐαγγέλιον originally meant a reward given to the messenger for good news (εὔ = “good”, ἀνγέλλω = “I bring a message”; the word “angel or messenger” comes from the same root) and later “good news” itself. The Bible records that Jesus sent out his disciples to evangelize by visiting people’s homes in pairs of two believers (cf. Luke 10:1–12).[1] In the same text, Jesus mentioned that few people were willing to evangelize, despite there being many people who would be receptive to his Gospel message.[2] In case you ever wondered this is why Mormons go door to door.

In 2017 Salvation by Allegiance Alone: Rethinking Faith, Works, and the Gospel of Jesus the King was released by Matthew W. Bates. Anytime something has “alone” in the title I am weary, but there was a lot of good in this book, Jesus is the anointed King of all creation, elevated to that position by God, evidenced by the resurrection.  As King, he has expectations for those who follow him.  As the verse in John 14 clearly demonstrates, commandments and/or devotion is central to these expectations. Allegiance entails obligatory obedience. I think Torah is important here and even though bates uses the word commandments I would take that more into devotion. He goes on to define the gospel by these points:

  1. a reiteration of his eight-point summary of the gospel, totally Trinitarian which is ok I guess…
  2. a statement that the Church needs to “stop asking others to invite Jesus into their hearts and start asking them to swear allegiance to Jesus the King”[3] Yep!
  3. a claim that “it is dreadfully wrongheaded to suggest that the gospel is best (or even adequately) proclaimed by actions unencumbered by words” . . . “the true gospel is not reducible to Christian activities.”[4] Totally Agree!
  4. a suggestion that the “Christian metanarrative” need only include the creation, the fall, the election of Israel, the gospel, the church and the future renewal [5] This one I see a bit differently
  5. a demand for discipleship: “The invitation to begin the journey of salvation can never be anything less than a call to discipleship, for nothing less will result in final salvation.”[6] YES!!! YES!!!
  6. a suggestion that saying the creeds (particularly the Apostle’s Creed) is the equivalent of saying the eight-points of the Trinitarian gospel as he outlines it. I can argue this one either way.

Where I mainly agree is on allegiance. In the first century you were allegiant to one and had no other masters. If you were loyal to Caesar there couldn’t be another. In my book, this is the way of covenant discipleship I devote an entire chapter to a better way of theologically framing the gospel. I will share some of that book at the bottom of this article. If you haven’t read it, I suggest starting there. My next suggestion would be The King Jesus Gospel: The Original Good released in 2016 by Scot McKnight (Author), N.T. Wright and Dallas Willard (Foreword).

Frank Viola also has a great handle on this. The New Testament calls Jesus an insurgent. He was an enemy of the State, accused of treason.

“They are all defying Caesar’s decrees, saying that there is another king, one called Jesus.”

The Insurgence, then, is the recovery of the titanic, earth-shaking, subversive gospel of the kingdom that got Jesus, John the Baptist, and the apostles in hot water. It’s a spiritual revolution against the world system that Jesus, John, and Paul speak against, and an utter and total allegiance to Jesus Christ and His alternative civilization called “the kingdom of God.”

But I still go down deeper trails… the gospel is combined in every word of the New Testament. The gospel isn’t a “plan” as much as it is a Person.

“And Philip opened his mouth, and beginning from this Scripture he announced Jesus as the gospel to him (Acts 8:35).”

The gospel of God is “concerning His Son (Rom. 1:3).” It is the all-inclusive unveiling of God’s full counsel concerning His goodness, His will, His purpose, and His kingdom.

“The gospel is the work of God to restore humans to union with God and communion with others, in the context of a community, for the good of others and the world.”

– Scot McKnight, Embracing Grace

So then, what is the Gospel? This is pretty basic to Christianity, yet we have made it out to be so confusing. If we can’t answer this as Christians then what are we doing? Many of us understand part of the gospel, or understand part of the gospel to be the complete gospel. The Bible literally calls the gospel the “good news” and the word for that is euengelion. If you have never done a simple word study in the Greek, it is worth the investment to start here. This word is introduced at the announcement of Christ’s birth and carries forward to continue to be our calling as Christians. The word originally signifies the idea of good tidings, but as we work our way through the scripture, ironically what we refer to as “the gospels” or the books that tell the story of Jesus; we find that the word begins to take on a similar yet different meaning. We read passage like Mark 1:14:15, ‘The time has been fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has drawn near; repent and believe in the gospel’. Has the meaning of the word changed, stayed the same, or taken on a broader meaning?

What about Luke 4:18-19“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and the regaining of sight to the blind, to set free those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

The answer is in the covenants and the context of the entire lens of the Bible. When I say you can’t clearly understand the message of the Bible without understanding the covenant thinking, this is what I mean. Many have failed to see the gospel in the Old Testament and that is problematic to understanding the complete message of the overall gospel. In Galatians 3:8 we read, that God made a Covenant to Abraham. We usually call the this the Abrahamic covenant, but it is actually more clearly called the covenant of circumcision. Essentially the message from God to Abraham was that all nations would be blessed through his lineage. In the next chapter we are going to walk through this story, but for now let’s simply leave it that many generations went by and failed to live intimately with God. We see the fall in the garden, the flood, the tower of babel, God taking on Israel as His chosen people (or portion of all the world) and eventually they fail him too and he allows them to go into exile and judgment. But he doesn’t lose everyone throughout those years. Some remain faithful and some will return back to Him. The faithful are called the remnant. The Old testament closes with an idea that the Messiah will come to not only deliver the faithful remnant but possibly even the rest. Those that have fallen short (all of us in some way), and lost their allegiance will be given a chance to find their way back into this covenant of intimacy with God; to be let’s say, “adopted” into the kingdom. But as we read, we also find that even the remnant is blemished and (despite ritual yearly cleansing through faithful sacrifice) still will not “make the cut”; so not only is the good news for the unfaithful to return to faithfulness but even for the faithful to now be made complete. The good news is for everyone.

This plan by original design would be the greatest message to the earth; it would be the “good news” that the world needed to receive after the realization of knowledge that they had lost, or given up their right to the kingdom, by refusing God.

To the Jews, God’s chosen people, it meant a return from exile. To the gentiles, it meant a return or reclaiming by God of all people, the covenant of Abraham. To the spiritual beings, it meant that the fallen would be bound and a promise or covenant that ensured victory had been won. To all, it meant a return of the original plan to be in intimate relationship and walk with God in a covenant vocation with Him. We are all Lightbearers that eventually inherit a new Kingdom merged with the Heavenly realms and sacred space on the earth.

That is essentially the good news. We have been given the opportunity to be with God in intimate sacred living once again and all we have to do, is by our free will accept the new covenant that God is offering and live life in covenant with him, our spiritual family and our neighbor. But God isn’t just asking for a momentary decision, he is asking for us to follow Him as he has shown us; to literally give back all that he has offered in “life” and sacred living.

It isn’t a momentary decision of salvation, although salvation is a large part of it. It isn’t simply forgiveness of sins, although repentance for abandoning what was given to us is part of it. It isn’t the defeating of the fallen spiritual beings or the Satan figure, although them being bound is part of it. It isn’t going to church, but the church is the bride of the word and life. It isn’t even just the great announcement of the forever king; although all these things would culminate and bring life through that king. It isn’t merely allegiance, but this kind of sole allegiance would be necessary; and without it, the gospel won’t be found.

It comes down to the complete plan of the new covenant, eternal living life with God in His sacred kingdom. The story that starts with a sacred partnership in Eden has a plan to return to that way of walking in life with God almighty. A vocation of light, to be one with God almighty.

  1.  Rainer, Thom S. (1989). Evangelism in the twenty-first century: the critical issues. H. Shaw Publishers. p. 148. ISBN 978-0-87788-238-1.
  2. Muzorewa, Abel Tendekayi (December 1, 2005). Evangelism That Decolonizes the Soul: Partnership with Christ. Wipf and Stock Publishers. p. 9. ISBN 978-1-59752-445-2.
  3. [1]Matthew Bates, Salvation by Allegiance Alone, Chapter 8.
  4. [2]Ibid., p. 199.
  5. [3]Ibid., p. 200.
  6. [4]Ibid., p. 202.
  7. [5]Ibid., p. 210.

LIMINAL SPACE AND THE WILDERNESS

Posted by expedition44 on

This article is a 20-minute read. The YouTube version of the discussion is at the Bottom of the page and is an 80-minute listen.

Human beings- We are the most incredibly unique, wildly powerful and intelligent beings ever created but also make some of the most awful decisions, repeatedly, on a regular basis.

The Bible is beautifully simplistic and at the same time houses unsearchable depths of God’s wisdom and goodness. 

Of course, the Bible says a lot, everything we need, but there is also quite a bit that it doesn’t simply say. We know very little of what Jesus’s life was like for the better part of three decades, however through extrabiblical material such as historical research of that period, calendars, Jewish and rabbinical practices, and harmonizing the gospel narratives, we can gather much about his life that was not said in the pages of scripture. What we do know is that as soon as Jesus walked in obedience through baptism, he was led by the spirit of God into the wilderness. 

Matthew 4:1. “Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.” 

The humanity of Jesus is certain, but often eludes us, most of us struggle to fast for one full day, let alone a 40 day and 40-night stint.  Utter depletion was upon Jesus, and then came the tempting by ha-satan, and testing by God.  What follows is three questions and three rebuttals. The result is Satan fleeing and spiritual beings ministering to Jesus.  Although the Bible doesn’t say it, clearly there had been some equipping in Jesus’s life. 

and said to Him, “If You are the Son of God, throw Yourself down; for it is written, ‘He will command His angels concerning You’; and ‘On their hands they will bear You up,
so that You will not strike Your foot against a stone.’” Matthew 4:6  NASB

Ha-satan misquotes Psalm 91. Yet Jesus doesn’t correct him and simply notes that this is a test of YHWH and infers that to accept this challenge would be forbidden. The fault is in the demanding of Humans of God.  God is not the captive genie of my three magical wishes. Jesus makes this clear yet so many Christians today pray in a way that is rival to what Jesus states here. We make demands of God.

“Throw yourself from the Temple” has several other eye raising implications. Some have a hard time asking God for anything personally as it seems to be at odds with really believing in the will of God and the way that God weaves everything to serve His purposes. Can we demand without the eyes to see such things? Do our demands circumvent His intentions?  Sometimes in the Bible, such as with Moses we see God heeding the requests of man and altering what would seem to be His better will. But should we really ask God of that. Does asking God to be a way maker mean asking Him to come to our desires rather than posturing ourselves to simply come to His? Do we not throw ourselves from the Temple rather than throw ourselves on His mercy and sovereignty?

Regardless of where your theology lands, there is much going on behind the scenes of Jesus’s interaction with the challenger and it parallels a story in the Old Testament.  Most of us know the story of the exile from slavery out of Egypt and through the Red Sea, but often what’s overlooked is also what the Israelites overlooked in the wilderness.  We know that both the Israelites and Jesus had just come out of the water before heading into the wilderness.  In the Bible, water often signifies chaos.   In the beginning, when the spirit of God was hovering over the waters of the deep, the gives us a description of what life, before God interacts with it can look dark, uncontrolled, violent, and unpredictable.  As God brings forth land, we first see the life breathing characteristic of the creator of the cosmos. 

In the same way, a believers baptism signifies the reaction to an interaction with a life breathing God.  They are lowered into the chaotic waters of life for the last time and are risen into a brand-new life.   

The hope and promise of a new life are exactly what Israel stepped in to when they stepped out of the Red Sea.  The final ascent up the shores on to free land for the first time began the echo of Psalm 136:12 with a mighty hand and outstretched arm; His love endures forever.  Just like baptism, this step into their new life was simply the beginning.  It was the beginning of a new way of doing things thus signifying the importance of being trained and equipped to withstand the seemingly impossible giants that stood in the way of the final journey to the promised land. 

A voice is calling, “Clear the way for the Lord in the wilderness;
Make smooth in the desert a highway for our God.  Isaiah 40:3 NASB

There is one more connection between wilderness and water. In a D32 consideration, God is at war with other fallen spiritual beings and their slave masters, eventually overthrowing them with the greatest symbol of substitutionary sacrifice being Jesus as the Passover Lamb. At first glance the “horse and the rifer thrown into the sea” it would seem that the slavemasters are completely annihilated, and the earthly force is, but it would seem that the spiritual ones connected with the gods they formerly and will continue to serve will somehow find their way back into the Israelite camp. perhaps this is partially a sign of their continual grumbling and demanding that God do what they want and insisting that it is His fault that they are in such a terrible mess. Are you starting to see the connection of the fallen spiritual beings influencing humanity to make demands of God? This isn’t simply grumbling but a severe violation of the first (and greatest) commandment.

The wilderness becomes God’s classroom in obedience and allegiant devotion to God. In many ways today it still is.

The wilderness is harsh and uncontrollable.  We want to live in places where we are in control, so we build cities. That is why cities in the Bible are associated with RA not TOV. We don’t like the testing and trying of the spiritual beings in our lives, so we bulldoze the wilderness and build concrete jungles instead. Unfortunately, that becomes a sign of the RA over the TOV. Humankind actually seems to have very little control and when they think they do it is typically a sign they have been manipulated by the RA of life. We feed our self-delusional fantasy that we are self-sufficient as we are duped by the aggressors.

The wilderness is God’s sacred place, what is left of the earth as He created it.  When we attempt to reconstruct it in our image, we lose a connectivity to God and His sacred space. For Israel, the wilderness gave the Word of the Lord, the light and cloud they followed, the learning of grace and mercy, and unending provisions. They learned to heal and worship. They learned to trust and seek. If you have never met God in the wild and untamed placed of His sacred devotion you are likely missing what He has always desired to give to you. Perhaps when we dwell within the city limits, we need to remember to be a wilderness witness. Or maybe we just weren’t intended to live in the concrete jungle and trying to do so could actually be rival to God’s design.

___________________________________________________

We are in desperate need to be trained and equipped to withstand the seemingly impossible giants that may stand in the way of our journey through this life. If we move too quick, we can miss an important element of God’s character displayed in Matthew 4.

“Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.” 

The word tempted is the Greek word peirazó.   to make proof of, to attempt, test, tempt, but here it is used in the negative sense, a RA sense.

James 1:2-4. My brothers and sisters] consider it nothing but joy when you fall into all sorts of trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect effect, so that you will be perfect and complete, not deficient in anything. (NET) 
 

Conversely, in this passage, the Greek word for trials is dokimion, meaning- a testing or what is found approved.  This testing, or a process or being made complete by the testing of our faith, is very good or Tov.   

Both words in this form have significantly similar meanings, however the word tempted in Matthew 4 is in the negative form, or Ra  (peirazō) meaning “tempt” by means of luring.  This is not a character trait of God.  Later in his letter, James 1:13 states “When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone.” Although God will not tempt, he still can use the corrupt schemes of the evil forces as way to test our character.  This again is a parallel to God seemingly handing Job over to the fallen spiritual beings (sons of God) for the testing of his character to be found worthy of righteousness and faithfulness to YHWH.   

James uses a rare Greek verb, peirázō, meaning “to try, to test.”  God does not test anyone with evil.  It’s not simply a matter of testing.  It’s a matter of attempting to persuade someone to do something evil (and, of course, God is the one who determines what is good and what is evil). 

How often they rebelled against Him in the wilderness and grieved Him in the desert!   Again and again they tempted God, and pained the Holy One of Israel.  Psalm 78:40-41  NASB

Asaph uses the Hebrew verb nāsâ, which means “to put to the test, to try, to prove, to assay.”  In other words, they didn’t ask God to do something wicked.  They simply acted as if He weren’t God. God doesn’t test us with evil, but we often attempt to test Him, and in so doing, we engage in evil as a means of assaying Him.  We disconnect while He attempts to reconnect. This is the exact opposite of what our design and destiny is.

When Israel came out of a 400 plus year stay in RA-Egypt, this nation of people needed to be taught how to do things the way of God’s kingdom. Had the Levitical law been lived out according to its intention, this nation of people would have had such profound impact, other nations would have not helped but take notice and be drawn in to such a beautiful culture. They would have renewed the earth. They were meant to grow grapes as big as their heads that their world would have travelled great distances to partake in. This is the lost “analogy” of what it meant to bear fruit. To have fruit that the entire world sought after and desired. And what could be better than that? Well a fruit that was naturally given and produced by God, it didn’t require any toil. This is the mosaic of what a gift from God was intended to be in our lives… the epitome of what it meant to bear fruit in His kingdom. We were the possessors and recipients of a bountiful harvest that required little if anything from us with enormous blessings.

A contranym is when one word can have two different meanings.  Although today we don’t use the word kingdom in our everyday language, we often operate under the ruling of many kingdoms.  Our nation is often viewed as a kingdom, if not the strongest kingdom of all kingdoms in the eyes of many.  We tend to create our own mini kingdoms either by our nationalities, our blood lines, or even our homesteads.  The time we spend investing in these areas can certainly look like worship or idolatry, but what trips us up is our tendency to build vertically (like a city).  God has a kingdom which cannot be shaken regardless of our efforts to rebel against it or the attempts of the dark evil forces to lure us away from him.  The way God’s kingdom operates is contrary to the ways of the world.  God’s kingdom is horizontal, signifying the gift and purpose of diversity amongst all the people.  No one person is better or higher in stature, but all created equal although incredibly different.  There is but one king amongst a sea of brethren.  God’s kingdom is built solely on the foundation of love that never ceases to bring forth life.  To this day, our universe is constantly expanding.  New stars are being born and galaxies discovered.  If we can see through the mess of our daily lives, we can also see new life being formed each day around us.  God never stops producing and expanding.  This is what you and I were made to do.  This is our purpose as the church.  We were created by THE life source, the author and perfector of life, the well that never runs dry, but God is also aware of the effect that the kingdoms of this world can have on our nephesh.  Although we don’t use the word nephesh in our daily language, contextually here it is important.  Although Hebraically nephesh is defined as our soul, we often think of our soul as a separate part of the entire whole of who we are.  Our nephesh is every part of who we are down to the deepest part of our composition.  Our nephesh is all encompassing and when we bow down to kingdoms of this world, or in the case of the Israelites who had been under to rule of a tyrannical system for over 400 years, it takes reconstruction upon one’s nephesh to learn once again or for the first time the SOP or standard operating practices of God’s kingdom. 

According to scripture, the wilderness can often produce the greatest bounty of fruit within our lives.  As the kingdom of world tells us to gather from around us to store up treasures in our barns, Jesus continues to teach and to guide us to the truth that true life can only be generated from the inside out.  He uses examples of that of a mustard seed.  He gave them another parable:

“The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest garden plant and becomes a tree, so that the wild birds] come and nest in its branches.” Matthew 13:31-33 

The wilderness is what’s considered a liminal space.  Liminal is translated as threshold as in the threshold of a doorway.  It’s a space that is not quite outside yet not fully inside either.  It’s a transition point.  It’s the place where we know we are not where we used to be, but we are not yet where we are intended to go.  Our tendency is to view these times in life in a negative context, however in God’s kingdom, what can only be produced through tastings in the wilderness has the potential to produce the highest dividend in our lives, yet we see it through a negative lens and put our best foot forward to get out of the spaces and seasons of life as quickly as possible.  Many of us are praying for breakthrough in areas of our lives, but at the same time we are not willing to allow God to teach us what the breakthrough may look like and how to get there.  These liminal spaces will force us quickly to realize how much control we still desire of our own lives and see clearly the personal kingdom we’ve created.   

We know there’s much about Jesus’s life that we are unaware of, but what we do know is that directly out of baptism he was led by the spirit of God into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.  At the end of this wilderness season, immediately angels came to minister to him.  Matthew 4:11.  This opens up the door profound displays of the goodness of God’s kingdom displayed through the life of Jesus. In fact, John said this 

“ Jesus did many other things as well. If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written.”  Yet, God has an even bigger plan for the whole of humanity operating through the Kingdom of God.  Jesus is recorded saying this in John 14:12. “Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.” 

The only pathway for us to experience this type of life, a land truly flowing with milk and honey from the core of who we are, is to be built up, equipped and empowered by God in liminal spaces.  The world calls the wilderness Ra.  The Israelites did too.  They had everything they needed to survive and were on a journey to thrive, but still found themselves not just complaining, but being so caught up in only what they knew that they didn’t have the faith to trust God with what they don’t know. 

 “That night all the members of the community raised their voices and wept aloud.  All the Israelites grumbled against Moses and Aaron, and the whole assembly said to them, “If only we had died in Egypt! Or in this wilderness!  Why is the Lord bringing us to this land only to let us fall by the sword? Our wives and children will be taken as plunder. Wouldn’t it be better for us to go back to Egypt?”  

Richard Rohr calls “liminal space”—a particular spiritual position where human beings hate to be, but where the biblical God is always leading them. Many of the greatest stories are messages of stepping positiviely out of liminal space. Abraham, Joseph, David, Jonah, Ruth, Mary and so many others.

Let us not be so quick to judge the lack of faith and the desire to control of that of the Israelites.  This is us, too.  We have bought in to the lie that these wilderness seasons of life, surrendered to God, cannot produce far greater than what we could ask or imagine.  We are all too familiar with liminal spaces.  We can be in multiple wilderness seasons at the same time, or around the corner from another one.  Eschatologically, we are in a liminal space.  Jesus has defeated the forces of darkness and provided for us a pathway to exceptional life, but we are still waiting his return, and a culmination of all things made right.  The question becomes whether we as the bride of Christ are willing to receive from this wilderness season the chiseling, purifying, and equipping that is necessary to present ourselves as a spotless bride. 

“so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.”  Ephesians 5:27.   

Maybe today, we don’t necessarily seek to create wilderness seasons or find the liminal spaces, but in humility we can begin to see the power within them.  Most of us are somewhat lofty in our thinking, even if we think poorly of ourselves.  We still allow the Ra to have more say over our lives and the lives of others than the Tov that God has for us.  Exquisite goodness was on the other side of this forming season for the Israelites, yet they threw it all away for the slavery that was familiar to them.   

We are designed in the image of God and thus we are designed to bring forth life in everything that we do, yet if we are not allowing God to do the work beginning on the inside of our minds and hearts, lasting fruit cannot be produced.

 “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.  He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes[a] so that it will be even more fruitful. 

You are designed to bring forth fruit and bring it abundantly.  Be the one today who considers it pure joy when you face a trial of many kinds, believing that the testing, the equipping, the chiseling, the forming by the hand of God, can produce a steadfastness within us that leads to complete wholeness and maturity, unshakable by the feeble attempts of a broken world.   

Written by Dr. Will Ryan with Special Guest Paul Lazzaroni

watch/listen to the video version of this article