Little Timmy and the Sailing Trip

Little Timmy’s father was a decorated naval officer who had one last deployment at sea. Wanting to celebrate his retirement and also thank his wife and son for their forbearance toward his frequent absence over the years, he promised Timmy that he would take them on an extended sailing trip upon his return. Little Timmy was ecstatic. He could not wait to spend time with his father traveling, exploring the seas, and visiting new places. While on his final deployment, Timmy’s father regularly called back home, and every time he would be bombarded by Timmy’s questions. What would life at sea be like? What boat would they be traveling in? What destinations did his father have in mind? His father happily answered these questions, delighted at his son’s excitement, which in turn made him all the more eager to return home. 

Finally, the day arrived. Little Timmy was bursting with anticipation. But then, in a groundbreaking turn of events, Timmy’s father usurped expectations by revealing that his promise to bring the family sailing was not meant to be taken literally! Rather, the promise was to be fulfilled in his own person and presence, and in his renewed relationship with his son. Timmy’s father would fulfill his word not by actually taking the family on a sailing trip, but by simply being back home and being present, never leaving for extended periods again. Though they would not be sailing the seas, he and Timmy would still be “riding the waves” of quality time spent together. Little Timmy of course felt rather confused. What could he say? Wasn’t he glad to have his dad back? Shouldn’t that be enough? Isn’t that better than sailing? 

This, in fact, is the same kind of reasoning that is often applied to promises and prophecies about Israel. Consider, for example, the claim that “God’s covenant and blessing promised to Abraham is being fulfilled in the person and ministry of Jesus and his followers.”¹ According to this, God’s promise that Abraham and his descendants would inherit the land was being fulfilled in Jesus, even though the Jews were expelled from the land within a generation and Abraham is still dead, to this day never having possessed any of the land (Acts 7:5). Consider also the future glorification of Jerusalem that is spoken of numerous times (e.g. Isa 62:1, 65:18). Yet when it is claimed that “the church does not replace Israel, but it does fulfill the promises made to Israel,”² then we have to believe that somehow Jerusalem has been glorified through the church, even though the actual city of Jerusalem remains as imperfect as ever. 

At what point does this become blatant trickery? Somehow Abraham and his descendants have inherited the land without actually inheriting the land. Somehow Jerusalem has been glorified without actually being glorified. We are like little Timmy who has to think he is sailing with his dad even though in reality he is not. It may sound pious to say that the promises were fulfilled “in the person and ministry of Jesus,” that it is “all about Jesus,” and that Jesus is enough and even better than what Israel was hoping for—who cares about land when you have Jesus? But in the end, the problem remains: God did not do what he said. Ultimately, Timmy’s father did not bring him sailing. Of course, salvation in Jesus and the ministry of the Spirit are wonderful things. Yet God in his wisdom has chosen to administer this salvation within a story in which Israel has a special place. Jesus does not nullify Israel’s distinctiveness under the guise of fulfillment; rather, he affirms God’s calling upon the Jews and invites Gentiles to join in anticipating the fulfillment of Israel’s promises.

¹ Schnabel, Eckard J., “Israel, the People of God, and the Nations,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 45, no. 1 (2002): 50.

² Parker, Brent E., “The Church as the Renewed Israel in Christ: A Study of 1 Peter 2:4-10,” SBJT 21, no. 3 (2017): 46.  

Hannah’s Peculiar Prayer

1 Samuel opens with Hannah’s grief over her inability to bear children. In her distress, she prays to the Lord at Shiloh, promising to devote her child to him if he gives her a son. Eli the priest notices her and, despite an initial misunderstanding, blesses her. Afterward, God opens her womb and Hannah conceives and gives birth to Samuel. After Samuel is weaned, Hannah brings him back to Eli to serve at the temple at Shiloh as she promised.

Then, in the second chapter, Hannah prays a rather peculiar prayer. She speaks of her joy and triumph in the Lord and then declares, “My mouth derides my enemies, because I rejoice in your salvation” (1 Sam 2:1). What enemies? Is she referring to her previous infertility? Or does she mean Satan? Yet later on, she says that “the bows of the mighty are broken” (v. 4), “the wicked shall be cut off in darkness” (v. 9), and “the adversaries of the Lord shall be broken to pieces” (v. 10). She appears to have in mind actual people. But this seems rather excessive. All that happened is she had a baby. What does that have to do with the destruction of God’s enemies?

Not only that, but Hannah also proclaims that “the feeble bind on strength” (v. 4) and “those who were hungry have ceased to hunger” (v. 5). Indeed, God “raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap to make them sit with princes” (v. 8). Yes, God blessed Hannah greatly, but what does that have to do with the poor and hungry of the earth? God delivered her from her barrenness, but how does that equate to deliverance for the oppressed? Is Hannah out of touch with reality?

The answer, of course, is no. Hannah is being neither overdramatic nor irrational. Rather, as an Israelite who believes in God’s promises, Hannah anticipates a time when God will bring complete justice to the earth, judging the wicked and rescuing those who are broken and downtrodden. She therefore prays according to her faith, speaking prophetically about what she believes God will do in the future. The conclusion of her prayer sums it up quite well—note also the messianic overtones: “The Lord will judge the ends of the earth; he will give strength to his king and exalt the horn of his anointed” (v. 10).

Hannah prayed this way not because the birth of Samuel fulfilled these promises, but because it confirmed them. If God was faithful and able to give her a child, then he will certainly keep his promises concerning ultimate deliverance! In fact, anything that God does is meant to reassure us not only that he exists and is powerful, but also that he will bring about the day of the Lord. After all, the day of the Lord is the ultimate implication of God’s existence and power—a God who is loving and all-powerful surely will destroy evil, rescue the righteous, and redeem his creation (less obvious and more intriguing is why he has not done so yet). Whenever God works and does miracles, then, we too should anticipate the salvation he will bring on the last day and, like Hannah, proclaim this hope in our prayers.

Problems With “Already But Not Yet”

The most dominant theological framework among Christian scholars today is inaugurated eschatology. Also known as “already but not yet,” this idea is typically applied to the kingdom, as opposed to the other major elements of traditional Jewish eschatology. Rarely do you find declarations of an “already but not yet” day of the Lord, resurrection of the dead, or judgment of the wicked, probably due to inherent difficulties. It would be quite hard to argue, for example, that Jesus inaugurated the lake of fire at his first coming and will bring it to complete fulfillment when he returns!

But the kingdom gets special treatment, likely because it has historically been interpreted in ways that make it easier to fit into the inaugurated schema. This interpretive flexibility is in fact necessary because the kingdom of God as 1st century Jews understood it could not have been inaugurated at Jesus’ first coming. We can demonstrate this by considering what the coming of the kingdom entailed according to Jewish expectations at the time: 1) the Messiah would rule from David’s throne in a glorified Jerusalem, 2) Israel would be regathered to live safely in their land, 3) judgment on the enemies of God, 4) world peace and prosperity, 5) the Gentile nations would recognize and worship the God of Israel, 6) the healing of the nations. Let us go through each one.

1) Is Jesus “already but not yet” ruling from David’s throne in Jerusalem? No, he is not there at all. Nor has Jerusalem been “already” partially glorified. 
2) Did Jesus inaugurate the regathering of Israel at his first coming? No. They actually got expelled from the land afterward. 
3) Did Jesus begin judging his enemies at his first coming? No, he came to offer forgiveness to his enemies. Judgment comes later, at his return. 
4) Is there an “already but not yet” world peace and prosperity? 
5) Are the nations (i.e. governments, for example) “already but not yet” recognizing and worshiping the God of Israel? 

6) Has the healing of the nations begun?

It should be quite evident that the kingdom as Jews at the time understood it could not have been inaugurated in the ministry of Jesus. For “already but not yet” to work, then, it must not have been that kingdom that was inaugurated, but a different kind. In other words, for “already but not yet” to be plausible, the definitions have to change. For example, rather than the Messiah’s rule from a throne in Jerusalem to the nations, which is not “already” happening at all, the kingdom is recast to mean Christ’s rule in general. Only then can it be said that the kingdom has begun because Jesus “already” rules now in heaven, through his Spirit in the church, or in some other way, though his rule has “not yet” been consummated. Similarly, while the actual healing and rebuilding of nations did not begin when Jesus came, physical and spiritual healing at an individual level did happen. And so the kingdom can be defined as God’s healing power in general, which Jesus introduced in his first coming and will finalize at his second. Likewise, though world peace remains as elusive as ever, we can have a measure of peace now in Christ, and in this way the kingdom is “already” here in part, though “not yet” here in full.

Do you see what is happening here? Proponents of inaugurated eschatology take present blessings that are like the future blessings contained in the traditional understanding of the kingdom as indications of the kingdom being partially realized now and then redefine the kingdom around those blessings. But this will not do. You cannot on the one hand claim that Jesus realized the eschatological kingdom that the Jews anticipated and on the other hand conceptualize the kingdom as something else entirely. You cannot claim two different definitions for the kingdom of God at the same time. Thus “already but not yet” has a problem. If the kingdom is the messianic, eschatological kingdom, then, as previously demonstrated, it cannot be said to have “already” begun. Jesus is not presently on a throne in Jerusalem at all. But if the kingdom is simply God’s rule, power, authority, or presence in general, then the kingdom is not eschatological to begin with, which means what is being realized is not eschatology, but simply some feature of God that is always existent in his nature. Additionally, you would have to make the case that Jesus worked with a definition of the kingdom that was foreign to his Jewish audience.

There are two further problems worth pointing out. Some will argue that the kingdom is “already but not yet” because there are certain aspects of the future messianic kingdom that are present now. But this reasoning is fallacious. Yes, there are blessings that are of the same nature as those received in the kingdom that can be experienced now, but it does not follow from this that the kingdom, then, is present. We can draw an analogy using dating and marriage. Marriage is where love is consummated in shared life and sexual intercourse. Yet love and affection are also present while dating. Does this mean that a couple who is dating has already begun married life before the actual wedding? Are they “already but not yet” married because they love each other, spend time together, and enjoy some measure of physical intimacy, like holding hands, now, though fullness of intimacy still awaits? The answer is no, because marriage is not reducible to its parts. The preliminary enjoyment of benefits that are characteristic of marriage does not mean marriage has partially begun. Similarly, the present experience of blessings that find consummation in the kingdom of God does not mean that the kingdom has arrived.

Another problem with “already but not yet” is that those blessings that supposedly mark the arrival of the kingdom were present even before Jesus came. Did God not display his authority and power on many occasions well before Jesus arrived? And surely there were believers who experienced the Holy Spirit and had peace in God before the first coming of Christ. Also, has not God ruled all creation from the very beginning? Indeed, God has always been sovereign, active, and working. The idea that Jesus initiated the kingdom at his first coming is therefore suspect, as all the indications of this “already” kingdom were operative before Jesus ever showed up on the scene. What has never existed and still does not, however, is a perfectly righteous king on a throne ruling from a glorified Jerusalem, bringing healing and justice to the nations. That is altogether “not yet.”

Part of: Contending for the Kingdom of God

Kingdom Confusion

The kingdom is one of the most variable and subjective concepts in Christian theological history. One would expect more consistency in definition given its significance. If we are to “seek first his kingdom” (Matt 6:33), the “gospel of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the whole world” (Matt 24:14), and the content of Paul’s preaching can be summarized as “the kingdom” (Acts 19:8, 20:25), then surely Christians should have more clarity and agreement on the subject! Yet not only is there variety of interpretation and lack of consensus, but common ideas about the kingdom are themselves often insubstantial and questionable, making them unconvincing candidates for defining something as crucial as the kingdom of God.

While a more extensive and academic discussion is possible, for my purposes here I want to simply highlight two popular conceptions of the kingdom that many seem to default to and point out some practical concerns. The first is the kingdom as divine activity, that is, the kingdom is essentially any expression of God’s redemptive grace and power. Thus wherever God’s blessing and power are demonstrated, whether in conversion, moral renewal, revival, healing, missions, Christian influence, or some other form, there the kingdom is present. We can see this definition of the kingdom at work when the kingdom is described as expanding, advancing, spreading, and growing anywhere God is present, active, and working.

A problem with this notion of the kingdom is that it makes the kingdom practically meaningless. If the kingdom is essentially synonymous with anything that God does, anything that is spiritual and redemptive, then what is the point of the term? There is no meaningful benefit to the doctrine of the kingdom if the kingdom is merely another way to refer to God’s power and activity in general. In other words, the kingdom does not add anything substantial to the conversation if it only describes that which already can be described by other and even better means. Furthermore, if the kingdom rather refers to a specific work of God, then interpreting it to mean God’s work in general actually takes away from its uniqueness and significance.

A second common view of the kingdom is the church as the kingdom of God. The kingdom is established with the church and advances as the church advances and grows. To build God’s kingdom therefore means to build up the church, whether in quantity or quality. This interpretation of the kingdom, however, tends to lead to a miscalculation of the church’s importance. The gospel of the kingdom in effect becomes the gospel of the church. And this is precisely what we often see at both an academic and popular level. Many theologies assign the church an oversized role as the center of redemptive activity and the mediator of God’s rule on earth. The church does not merely bring the good news; it is the good news. Accordingly, many churches have a strong sense of self-importance, which they emphasize alongside the church’s various features and offerings to attract and retain people—effectively preaching a “gospel of the church.” Of course it will be argued that Christ, rather than the church, should be the focus, but if the church is the kingdom and the kingdom is integral to the gospel, then why not?

Yet everyone who has been a Christian long enough knows that the church is rife with all kinds of problems. If the kingdom has been advancing for thousands of years already, then surely things in the church would be better by now! We also find that wherever the church has accumulated significant wealth and power, which would seem fitting for a kingdom and should actually be desired if the church is supposed to rule and have influence as God’s kingdom on earth, corruption usually follows. Moreover, what about those who have been hurt and abused by the church? It is particularly difficult for victims of mistreatment and neglect at the hands of the church to accept the church as the kingdom of God. In contrast and unsurprisingly, those with authority and affluence tend to be more open to the idea. One can contend that the true kingdom is spiritual and hidden, composed only of those who are true Christians. But, again, if the kingdom is merely another name for believers, then what is the point of the term?

All this leads to confusion because these definitions of the kingdom simply do not square with both Scripture and experience. These definitions do not quite “fit,” so to speak. The Bible speaks of the kingdom of God very highly and idealistically. The kingdom is associated with greatness, glory, and justice. Does that line up with our experience of the kingdom according to these definitions? For example, if I boast about my wife’s apple pie as if it is the best in the country, but it turns out to be rather mediocre, you will suspect something is wrong. Either I lied, or perhaps what she actually baked was not apple pie, but her quite average lemon pie. But if I insist that she really baked an apple pie, even though she did not, and I continue talking it up like it is the best pie you have ever had, you will be left confused. This seems to be what happens with the kingdom. What people call the kingdom simply does not live up to the hype, yet they keep talking it up because their theology requires it. Confusion then ensues.

What should our definition of the kingdom be, then? What would live up to the way the kingdom is described in Scripture and also be proven in our actual experience of it? The answer is the eschatological, messianic kingdom, just as the Jews expected. Jesus will one day come with his angels in glory and set up an everlasting kingdom that will rule the world in perfect righteousness and justice. It will not be hidden. No one will be left confused or disappointed. It will be obvious, striking, profound, and permanent. It will change everything. And it will most certainly live up to the hype.

Part of: Contending for the Kingdom of God

Reconsidering Jewish Rejection

One time I attended a Passover demonstration at a church. Afterward, I had a brief conversation with an elder who was remarking how despite keeping the Passover, the Jews still missed and rejected Christ, in contrast to we Christians who got it right. His comments seemed off to me, but at the time I could not quite pinpoint why. After all, was he not correct? Is it not true that the Jews rejected Jesus despite all the indications that he was the Messiah? 

Some might view such an assertion as inherently arrogant and antisemitic. I do not think it necessarily is. I believe the idea that the Jews rejected Jesus is problematic for a simpler, more straightforward reason—it is false. Some Jews did not believe in Jesus. Others did. Even more, those Jews who believed are the reason we have the opportunity to do so as well. They were the ones who understood their responsibility to be “a light for the nations” (Isa 49:6, cf. Acts 13:47) and brought the gospel to Gentiles, even at the cost of their own lives. It is therefore inaccurate, misleading, and also dishonoring to declare the Jews as having missed the gospel when it was Jews who not only were the first disciples of Jesus but also sacrificed so that we too could share in their promises. 

Now, as alluded to earlier, it is possible to make such a blanket statement purely because one genuinely believes it to be true, despite evidence to the contrary, in which case one would only be ignorant, not arrogant. However, this all too common assumption of Jewish rejection of Jesus typically betrays a deeper bias, one that is quite ingrained in the Christian tradition. The sad reality is that much of Christian hermeneutics, theology, and even practice at times have historically been anti-Jewish. Moreover, ignorance can give way to arrogance. That is why Paul cautions, “I do not want you to be ignorant of this mystery, brothers and sisters, so that you may not be conceited” (Rom 11:25, NIV). His warning to Gentiles is clear: “do not be arrogant toward the branches” (Rom 11:18).