Gary DeMar & 1 Thessalonians 4

Gary DeMar & 1 Thessalonians 4

Full disclosure, I have no interest in making a judgment about the state of Gary DeMar’s soul. I have no reference point on social media, nor do I care to. Declaring the state of souls is not my duty. But what I can say is this: 

It’s extremely concerning that a professing Christian tends not to answer questions about the bodily resurrection. It’s concerning that a single individual trusts himself enough to call into question (so easily it seems) the historical consensus of Christ’s people (this autonomy is endemic among these types it seems). And it’s also concerning that DeMar does all of this while maintaining a decently high profile influence over younger and/or more impressionable Christians.

DeMar won’t say much. But what he has said bears some informational content. And that informational content is worth engaging, if not for the benefit of changing his mind, then for the prospective benefit of onlookers.

Again, to qualify, I am not leveling a judgment against DeMar’s soul. He may very well be a Christian. But inquiring minds have concerns. Pastoral concerns. Concerns for the flock. So, without any further ado, let’s get underway.

What DeMar Has Said

Recently, on social media, I’ve posted two closely related statements issued by DeMar on a not-so-old podcast episode published by the ‘The Burros of Berea’. It’s found in episode #77, starting around the 1:29:00 mark. In this section of the podcast, DeMar is asked about what he believes will happen when he dies. He answers as follows, “I believe that when you die, you go to be with the Lord. And you get a new body at that time, a spiritual body.” Soon after, he follows up with a reference to 1 Thessalonians 4, saying, “[The bodily resurrection] doesn’t make sense with 1 Thessalonians 4 because you have to assume that the ‘dead’ there refer to dead bodies rather than ‘the dead’, ‘dead people’.”

More recently, I reproduced these two statements on Facebook in response to this post. After being asked to clarify those statements, DeMar replied, “I believe is [sic] a viable interpretation.” And when asked what that meant, he simply doubled down, “It’s a viable interpretation.” Assuming he’s referring to 1 Thessalonians 4, and that it may be suggestive of a spiritual (rather than a future bodily) resurrection, I issue the following response—

Is Omitting a Future, Bodily Resurrection from 1 Thessalonians 4 a “Viable Interpretation”?

The short answer? No.

I could appeal to the historical interpretation of the text, which would be a worthwhile pursuit. But I believe 1 Thessalonians 4 is clear enough to be interpreted at face value. But first, let’s look at a few other texts that clearly support the traditional notion of a future bodily resurrection.

In the Second London Confession, we read, “At the last day, such of the saints as are found alive, shall not sleep, but be changed; and all the dead shall be raised up with the selfsame bodies, and none other…” (31.2) This doctrine is grounded in a reality Christ has already inherited following the completion of His work. Paragraph 3 makes this plain when it explains the reason for our future resurrection, “the bodies of the just, [are raised] by his Spirit, unto honour, and [are] made conformable to his own glorious body.” The same language is found in the Westminster Standards.

The 17th century Particular Baptist and Westminster divines grounded the believer’s resurrection in Christ’s resurrection because Christ’s resurrection is the pattern of our hope. In other words, given our union with Christ, what He earned as Mediator becomes ours. In Romans 6:5, Paul writes, “For if we have been united together in the likeness of His death, certainly we also shall be in the likeness of His resurrection…” In vv. 8-9, he goes on, “Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with Him, knowing that Christ, having been raised from the dead, dies no more. Death no longer has dominion over Him…” The phrase, “we shall also live,” cannot refer to regeneration, nor can it refer to the reception of a body other than the “selfsame” body we presently inherit. This for two reasons: (1) the phrase is in the future tense, which precludes a reference to regeneration; and (2) v. 5 makes it clear that our resurrection is like unto Christ’s. And if His selfsame body did not remain in the earth, then neither shall ours.

Speaking of ungodly teachers, Paul writes to Timothy, “And their message will spread like cancer. Hymenaeus and Philetus are of this sort, who have strayed concerning the truth, saying that the resurrection is already past; and they overthrow the faith of some.” (2 Tim. 2:17-18) This passage precludes a full preterist reading of the bodily resurrection. Furthermore, it cannot refer to a subjective, spiritual resurrection—as if each dying person receives a glorified spiritual body at their death. Paul is clear, the resurrection hasn’t happened yet. And to suggest that it has tends to overthrow the Christian faith!

One more passage before we get to 1 Thessalonians 4… 

In 1 Peter 1:3, the apostle writes, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead…” It may seem like a routine apostolic greeting, but let’s think through the language by means of a logical process:

Step 1: Did Christ die? Yes. That much is implied in the text itself, and no professing Christian doubts it. It’s relatively uncontroversial.

Step 2: Did His soul die? No. Why? Because Jesus Himself makes that clear when he issues a promise to the thief on the cross, “Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.” (Lk. 23:43) And in Luke 23:46, He says, “Father, ‘into Your hands I commit My spirit.’”

Step 3: If our Lord perished, but His soul didn’t die, what was raised from the dead? It was His selfsame body. Hence, the women discovered an empty tomb. (Lk. 24:22-23)

Death is the departure of the soul from the body. That is the traditional-philosophical definition of death, and it is also the biblical understanding. The soul is immortal. The body is not, at least not until the resurrection of the body when we “are clothed with immortality.”

Okay, now for 1 Thessalonians 4…

Is DeMar’s suggestion that it does not speak of a future bodily resurrection “viable”?

Let’s look at the evidence.

A partial-tending-full preterist could easily throw a gloss of 1 Thessalonians 4 into his paradigm with a measure of success if it weren’t for the details. In v. 14, for example, we read, “For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus.” Now, this statement may not be as well attended as the following vv. 15-18 (because those often seem eschatologically juicier). But v. 14 seems to obviate a full-preterist reading. Look closely at the language. As with Romans 6, Paul grounds the resurrection in Christ’s resurrection, which was the resurrection of His selfsame body unto a glorious estate. Strengthening this suggestion are the words, “even so God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus.” That small phrase, “even so,” could be rendered, “also in this way,” or, “so too, in this way…” And this makes for an overall reading as follows, “For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, so too, in this way God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus.” Lexically, the term used here for “in this way” (οὕτω) means “in the manner spoken of.” 

Conclusion? In the same manner Christ was raised, those asleep in Jesus shall be raised also. If Christ’s selfsame body was raised (the tomb was empty), so too shall our selfsame bodies be raised (all our “tombs” shall be empty like His was). But this can only be the case if (1) the resurrection is future, and (2) if it entails the reception of the same, albeit glorified, bodies we currently possess.

As a bonus consideration, v. 16 reads, “For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of an archangel, and with the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first.” While some preterists may want to relegate this to a past event, 1 Corinthians 15 corroborates a futurist reading of this text, “in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.” (v. 52) Paul places himself among those who “shall be changed,” by using the first person plural, “we.”

Conclusion

I believe there to be plenty of evidence that demonstrates a future bodily resurrection (the orthodox position), and that it consists in the resurrection of our selfsame bodies in the manner of Christ’s own resurrection. Much more could be said. My concern rests with those who will be influenced by DeMar or by those with similar platforms and beliefs to his own. My prayer is that my engagement doesn’t come off as an exercise in heresy hunting, but that my tone is perceivably pastoral and irenic.

May the Lord get the glory.

Will the Christian Ever Stop Working?

Will the Christian Ever Stop Working?

What is our blessed hope? To what do we look as we anticipate this life giving way to the next? Paul asks a similar question in 1 Thessalonians 2:19, “For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing?” His answer is stunningly brief, “Is it not even you in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at His coming?” Paul shifts our attention to the presence of God at the great coming of God, in which we ought to rejoice. He does not labor to characterize the world to come in similar terms to what we now experience. Instead, he understands the world to come to consist in the greatest good, the summum bonum, or the beatific presence of God.

Because of modern assumptions, many are not satisfied that the only object of our attention in glory will be God Himself. We’ve been taught to make this present world a template for understanding the next. Instead, we ought to understand the world to come as that upon which this present is based. The present world is but a type of the one to come. The world to come, not the world that is, is the pattern. Moses didn’t see the tabernacle on Mt. Sinai. He saw the ultimate pattern (τύπος) upon which it was based and the end to which it aimed. The tabernacle itself is but a shadow pointing to the end, a construct vaguely approximating what Moses saw on the mountain. (Heb. 8:5)

Understanding the Initial Goal of Man’s Work

Unwittingly, Christians often make the assumption, implicitly or explicitly, that the work of redemption was intended to restore man to a Garden of Eden situation, and that nearly everything about the pre-lapse life will characterize life in glory. Another assumption is that a man’s material body is only good for exercising leadership and work—two situational principles related to the cares of this present order. There simply can be no other end for man, it is thought, but to live like we live now, albeit with some accidental changes between our present condition and the state of glory, e.g. we will rule and work without sin.

Both of these assumptions, however, seem to fall short of a robust biblical understanding of individual eschatology. But how did we arrive here? Why have most of us come to assume that glory will not consist in rest, but in a continuance of labor similar to what we currently experience? As Dr. Richard Barcellos might say, We got the garden wrong. So, how might getting the Garden right inform our understanding of work in relation to man’s blessed end? 

Most importantly, it is the Garden-narrative that first introduces the purpose of man’s work. Genesis 2:15 says, “Then the LORD God took the man and put him in the garden to tend and keep it.” Man’s work (tending) is his maintenance and expansion of the garden to the four-corners of the earth. Barcellos writes, “[Adam] started his task in the garden of Eden, which, as we have seen, was the earth’s first localized temple. Adam was commissioned to expand that Edenic temple to the four corners of the earth.”[1]

Sometimes the toil of our present work is associated with the effects of sin following the fall. However, even before the fall there was a certain toil associated with man’s labor as the term for “tend” (עָבַד) indicates.[2] This is not a sinful toil, nor a toil caused by sin. This toil is not associated with a curse. But it is associated with the expectation of a goal to be met through work—the anticipation of something other and greater than a life characterized by labor. In other words, there is something more desirable than work to which work tends. And in this case, Adam’s work served Adam’s eschatology. So, to suggest man’s present work is a necessary feature of man as man is inaccurate. Work was instituted for a definite end. It has a final cause or goal. It presupposes completion, and it begs the prospect of rest. For the first Adam, the goal of his work was the attainment of a secure situation with God—a security no longer available through our work, but only through the work of the second Adam.

Some dispute the notion that the first Adam had an eschatology at all. However, the two trees in the middle of the garden, the charge to tend and keep the garden, and the raw materials covering the earth (presumably for the first Adam’s use) beg to differ. The tree of life is associated with man’s bliss and security in a state of incorruption, “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes I will give to eat from the tree of life, which is in the midst of the Paradise of God.” (Rev. 2:7) And, “In the middle of its street, and on either side of the river, was the tree of life, which bore twelve fruits, each tree yielding its fruit every month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.” (Rev. 22:2) And once more, “Blessed are those who do His commandments, that they may have the right to the tree of life, and may enter through the gates into the city.” (Rev. 22:14)

Given the purpose of the tree of life, we may conclude that the first Adam’s eating of the tree of life would have resulted in a similar situation to that of the saints seen in Revelation. Implied in Genesis 1-2 is Adam’s task to tend (work) and guard (keep) the Garden. Given the resources available beyond the Garden and his charge to “fill the earth,” Adam was tasked with not only caring for but also expanding the Garden. (Gen. 1:28; 2:10-14) 

Adam’s task to “keep” the garden was one of guardianship, presumably from the serpent—a task he failed to complete. All indicators point toward the tree of the knowledge of good and evil as a judgment tree at which Adam should have judged and executed Satan, i.e. it does not appear on the new earth since judgment is completed at the consummation. It was the tree upon which Satan should have been crucified. Instead, we formed allegiance with Satan and now deserve to be crucified on that same tree. However, Christ is crucified or cursed on our behalf, “Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree…” (Gal. 3:13)

Work, as a creational principle, was intended for the attainment of an eschatological end. And whereas Genesis 3 introduces man’s fall and the curse, the initial purpose of man’s work necessarily changes. No longer can it attain an eschatological end. The covenant of works has been broken. Work remains, but it is ineffectual to reach its initial purpose described by the state of innocence. For Christians, this work is no longer eschatological in the sense of obtaining some end. But it is both dutiful and helpful—it is commanded and it is instrumental in our sanctification. (Rom. 8:13) It characterizes the pilgrim’s way.

The Present Goal of Man’s Work & Whether That Goal Is Ever Reached

Work, for it to be meaningful, must continue to have a purpose. This purpose must be both proximate and remote. There are numerous goals we have in our work. These numerous goals are proximate, because each is immediately achieved by the completion of a task. I might boil an egg so as to enjoy eating it afterwards. But what is the remote purpose of work as a concept? What is the ultimate purpose of work per se? Most basically, our work no longer procures our eschatology. Christ alone is efficient and sufficient for this. Instead, our present work is an expression of the grace of God in our lives. For the Christian, work is an outworking of his gratis toward God for God’s unilateral accomplishment and application of redemption. For the Christian, this is true for both secular and sacred work (worship). Secular work consists in natural tasks common to all men. Sacred work consists in positively commanded tasks unique to the Christian faith. Both are performed to the glory of God as an outworking of the grace of God, not as an effort on man’s part to attain glory.

To qualify, we might say our grace-given work leads to glory only in a consequential sense. That is, upon the hypothesis of God’s grace, the necessary consequence is man’s work which characterizes man’s path to glory. A man who does not work does not reach glory. But that is not because he failed to work. It’s because he evidently does not possess the grace of God necessary for glory which inevitably produces work in the believer to one extent or another. Thus, work continues to be eschatologically significant but not eschatologically efficient. Hence, Paul writes, “Where is boasting then? It is excluded. By what law? Of works? No, but by the law of faith.” (Rom. 3:27) Can we boast in our works in the end? Of course not. Why? Because the justification that explains our arrival at glory at long last isn’t conditioned at all upon our works, “for by the works of the law no flesh shall be justified.” (Gal. 2:16)

Work, then, is now an expression of Christ in us. But what stage of Christ’s incarnate life is currently shown through us? It would obviously have to be the stage where He dwelt amongst us and demonstrated for us how to live unto the Father of lights. Peter seems to place the example of Christ concomitantly with His humiliation when he writes, “For to this you were called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that you should follow His steps…” (1 Pet. 2:21) But if Christ’s incarnate work is our template, then it should follow that Christ’s incarnate rest, which He received upon the completion of His work, will also be ours. In other words, if Christ is our pattern, His earthly life is to be our earthly life, and His heavenly rest is to be our heavenly rest. So, the author of Hebrews writes, “Let us therefore be diligent to enter that rest, lest anyone fall according to the same example of disobedience.” (Heb. 4:11)

The present goal of our work, then, is to imitate Christ by the grace of God in us. And this means we shall also imitate the end of Christ’s work which is His rest.

The End of Work?

We’ve all heard the popular phrase “mission accomplished.” 

A mission is a work with a definite goal. When that goal is reached, the mission concludes. If we view all present Christian work in this way, it becomes clear to us that work should have a definite goal, and therefore a point at which it concludes. This goal is rest. As seen in Hebrews 4:11, diligence (work) ends in rest (glory). Rest is the opposite of work, as is demonstrated throughout the Scripture repletely. 

First, in Genesis 2:2, God rests from all His works. There, rest is seen as the opposite of work. In some sense, God continued to work because that first rest was but typical of the finished work of the new creation, which ended in the Son’s incarnation and sufferings, and His entering into glory through resurrection and ascension. (Jn. 5:17)

Second, in Matthew 11:28, our Lord says, “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Again, rest is here the opposite of labor. In this text, labor should be understood as work per se. And though it is affected by sin, the first mention of labor is not particularly negative, but refers to man’s creational task. The second mention, “heavy laden” refers to the effects of sin upon us—both our own sin and the sins of others, along with our misery.

Third, in Matthew 26:45, Jesus rebukes His disciples for “resting” at an improper time. Their time of rest had not yet come, the Son of Man was being betrayed. He says, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of sinners.” Again, diligence, which the disciples ought to have had, is seen as opposite to rest. The term for “rest” (ἀναπαύω) used in this text is the same as that which is used in Matthew 11:28, where our Lord speaks of rest eschatologically and positively.

Fourth, if by “rest” was only meant relief from the effects of sin such that work would go on infinitely into future glory, then the term for “relief” (ἄνεσις) would probably be employed instead of ἀναπαύω, as in 2 Thessalonians 1:7, where “rest” is put for “relief” from affliction in the English—“and to give you who are troubled rest with us when the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven with His mighty angels…”

Fifth, in Revelation 14:13, we read, “Then I heard a voice from heaven saying to me, ‘Write: “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.”’ ‘Yes,’ says the Spirit, ‘that they may rest from their labors, and their works follow them.’” Here, the term for “rest” is that proper term for “rest,” or the peace and solace we receive when our works are finished (ἀναπαύω). And it should be noticed that these works and labors are good works and labors, the nature of which began in the garden. But they are concluded when we “die in the Lord.”

Some have ventured to suggest that creational work is a necessary property of man’s nature. Work is a necessity of man’s nature. Since he was created with it he must do it, or so it is sometimes assumed. As the sun must shine to be the sun, so too must the man work to be a man. However, seeing as how work is always an operation explained by man’s will, it cannot be a necessity of nature. A man may still be a man, though he does not work—or though he rests. Work is an accident of man’s nature instituted in the beginning for a positive purpose. It does not make man man. It is a potency in man. But a potency need not be necessarily actualized.

Furthermore, some would like to suggest that man’s work does not have a definite end, but that work proceeds ad infinitum cycling through countless different goals indefinitely. This is absurd. As Thomas Aquinas says, “if there were no last end, nothing would be desired, nor would any action have its term, nor would the intention of the agent be at rest; while if there is no first thing among those that are ordained to the end, none would begin to work at anything, and counsel would have no term, but would continue indefinitely.” (ST.I-II.Q1.A4.Obj2)

In other words, a linear progress of work meeting goals ad infinitum would not allow any one goal to be reached. Consider an infinite succession of moments. How could we ever reach this moment if an infinite number of moments preceded it? Furthermore, there would be no such thing as a superior goal, or a goal that is more desirable than the others.

Conclusion

Work and rest is a staple of the biblical-redemptive narrative. Work must be understood as that which leads to rest, and rest must be understood as the final end of work to which we look. If this was not the case, Christ’s work is never complete, our work is never complete, and true rest is never reached. Furthermore, if work is a necessity of man’s nature from man’s creational constitution, then it loses all its eschatological significance. The parallelism between the two Adams falls into question. Does the second Adam bring to an end what the first Adam did not and then some? If work doesn’t lead to rest, then how are we to understand the finished work of Christ as it typologically parallels the work that the first Adam was initially charged to complete but yet fell short of that completion?

Instead, I suggest we understand glory to consist in beatitude, where we behold God without sin. This beatitude is sufficient for us. God is enough for us. And thus, we rest. There is no more working for an end. For the end has been reached. Paul understands the world to come to consist in the greatest good, the summum bonum, or the beatific presence of God. In this consists our rest, our happiness, and the consummation of our ultimate end, “to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.” (Cf. Westminster Shorter Catechism, Q. 1)

Resources

[1] Richard Barcellos, Getting the Garden Right, (Cape Coral: Founders Press, 2017), 155.

[2] Francis Brown, Samuel Rolles Driver, and Charles Augustus Briggs, Enhanced Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977), 712.

Losing the Legacy of Orthodoxy

Losing the Legacy of Orthodoxy

In the face of rampant cultural and philosophical sophistry, Paul concludes his first letter to Timothy by writing, “O Timothy! Guard what was committed to your trust, avoiding the profane and idle babblings and contradictions of what is falsely called knowledge—by professing it some have strayed concerning the faith.” (1 Tim. 6:20-21) The ESV calls it “the good deposit.” This “good deposit” is nothing less than the gospel itself, the apostolic doctrine of the New Testament, the full exposition of the types and shadows revealed in the Old. In 2 Timothy 1:13-14, Paul further clarifies what he means, “Hold fast the pattern of sound words which you have heard from me, in faith and love which are in Christ Jesus. That good thing which was committed to you, keep by the Holy Spirit who dwells in us.”

Over the past three years, I’ve grown increasingly concerned that the movement against social justice has itself become a social justice movement covered in Christian bumper stickers. Liberal churches and organizations are typically marked by a forfeiture of the “good deposit” in favor of political and social change. And while the anti-social justice movement credits the gospel as being the wind behind its sails, it’s actually just arguing and pushing for nothing more than natural political and social goods. Whereas pagans or Christians can fight for these natural political and social goods, and have throughout history, we have to be careful to distinguish the gospel from positive upticks in political and social ethics. Otherwise, we lose the legacy of a distinctly Christian orthodoxy within which alone is found the gospel of man’s reconciliation to a holy God through the blood and righteousness of the incarnate Son.

Defining the Issue

A brief definition of my protest is this: The kingdom is not the presence nor expansion of natural goods. While the kingdom of grace perfects nature, the improvement of nature isn’t necessarily indicative of the presence of the kingdom of God. There is something about the kingdom of God that further distinguishes it from common goods. My concern can be found in the words of Joel Webbon, founder and host at Right Response Ministries and pastor to Covenant Bible Church in Georgetown, Texas. In a podcast titled, ‘Christian Stir-Fry | 3 Spheres, 2 Kingdoms, 1 King’, he says:

If we cure cancer right um if you know all these things are pushing back the kingdom of darkness, but it’s not just um because someone got saved. And so Joe Boot says like the church and the kingdom are not synonymous. There’s massive overlap, but they’re not a one-to-one ratio synonymous. The church only numerically grows one way: conversion. But the kingdom of God grows every time the good, the true, and the beautiful—those things which align with the law of God and the gospel of God—are furthered and pressed forward in any sphere of human society. And so nobody could get saved and (now I believe it would lend towards salvation), but initially, no one could actually get saved, so the church did not numerically grow, um but a good law was passed—the kingdom is advancing and the kingdom advancing in these other spheres in all of life, it lends towards um the advancement of the church.[1]

Webbon lists a few things that he believes indicate an expansion of the kingdom of God: (1) curing cancer, (2) when the good, true, and beautiful are furthered in any societal sphere, (3) the passing of a good law.

This concerns me, for the simple reason that none of these things require the preaching or the proliferation of the “good deposit” mentioned above. That’s the issue.

Responding to the Issue

All of the stuff Webbon cites as indications of the kingdom’s expansion happens or can conceivably happen in a society that’s never even heard the gospel before. So even if the gospel is credited with affecting these changes, these changes aren’t distinct to the gospel, and may occur without the gospel as well as with it. That is to say, if these things are gospel benefits, but can also occur apart from the gospel, it follows that these gospel benefits are available to the natural man as well as to the Christian. It’s a lurking universalism that arbitrarily excludes other gospel benefits such as justification, sanctification, and glory.

In fact, if Webbon’s words were consistently applied to world history, the Persian, Grecian, and Roman empires were break-throughs of the kingdom of God because, as Webbon says, “the kingdom of God grows every time the good, the true, and the beautiful… are furthered and pressed forward in any sphere of human society.” And those empires, in spite of their rampant paganism, had objectively just laws, objectively beautiful art, and objectively beautiful architecture, along with a healthy and objectively true understanding of the physical form of the human body.

In an earlier part of the podcast, Webbon speaks with Brian Sauve about two-kingdom theology. During the interchange, Sauve takes issue with the notion of the “common kingdom,” (as opposed to the redemptive kingdom) when he says:

The problem is that as soon as you take that common kingdom and say it’s not ruled by Scripture, and christians aren’t necessarily, therefore, going to have a leavening effect on any of it, you’ve actually just divorced the transformational effect of christianity from everything outside of the four walls of the church.

But the design of common/redemptive kingdom semantics is the preservation of the redemptive kingdom, and with it, the preservation of the gospel that alone produces it. Furthermore, two-kingdom adherents do not and have never claimed “christians aren’t necessarily, therefore, going to have a leavening effect on any of it…” The design of two-kingdom theology is to observe the distinction, not separation, between nature on the one hand and grace on the other. If nature is lifted by grace, that’s all well and good. But if grace is collapsed into nature, we’ve lost the gospel. And this collapse is what is at least implied by Webbon’s words above. Anything that happens in the natural world which is true, good, and beautiful is an effect of the gospel even if the gospel isn’t present.

The next logical step is to ask, “Why do we need the gospel unto salvation if its effects are produced by the passing of good laws and pretty pictures?” If the kingdom of God’s gospel may be expanded without anything occurring distinct to what Christ has purchased on the cross, then the kingdom of God, along with its gospel, has been made common. Hence the need to distinguish carefully between the common and redemptive kingdoms.

Natural & Supernatural Revelation

Joe Boot, in his book Mission of God, takes issue with the secular/sacred distinction, counting it a type of dualism that results in the removal of Christianity from society. And this is, no doubt, a concern for Webbon and Sauve as well. Christ’s universal Lordship is suggested as an alternative. Boot writes:

Because we have increasingly done what [Abraham] Kuyper decries, and separated life into two parts or storeys, the sacred and secular, personal and public, spiritual and immaterial, one part for ourselves and the other for God, the ‘toleration’ of sin in the ‘lower storey’ (an alleged sphere outside God’s direct moral authority for ourselves) has become a practical virtue.[2]

While I can agree with Boot that “secular” is not the best term given our modern vocabulary, it is a term used to some advantage throughout history. For example, the Second London Baptist Confession states that ministers of the gospel should be enabled to minister “without being themselves entangled in secular affairs…” (26.10) William Bates, an English Presbyterian minister in the 17th century, says, “Now when secular interest outweighs duty, when apparent danger induces to deny the truth of Christ; how terrible and unavoidable will be the punishment of that disloyalty?”[3] One wonders how the fear of danger drives the current reactionary impulse toward blending secular and sacred together, and whether Bates’ ominous observation is actually prophetic of our own day. Is the gospel being lost in this movement represented by Webbon and others? Are we losing the legacy of orthodoxy?

The term “secular” is not historically associated with licentiousness, as Boot thinks of the term. It was, rather, useful in distinguishing the ways, means, and circumstances in which God deals uniquely with His people from the ways, means, and circumstances by which He governs the natural world at large. There is a distinction between these two things. And if that distinction is blurred, then God’s unique dealings with His people, through the gospel, will be swallowed up by concerns over the natural world. As Bates puts it, the “secular interests outweigh” our actual duties as God’s blood-bought people.

However, the importance of this may be more readily seen if we distinguish along revelatory and theological lines. Natural revelation is the revelation of God and His will through the medium of the natural world and in the consciences of all men. (Rom. 1:18-20; 2:14) Supernatural revelation is that revelation of God and His will through the Scriptures. The Scriptures, while assuming and repeating much of what is found in nature, offers revelation of God and His will that reaches beyond what’s available through mere creation. Natural and supernatural theologies correspond to these two types of revelation, describing the kind of knowledge man has of God derived from the two natural and supernatural revelatory sources, respectively.

What is revealed through nature is God’s. What is revealed through Scripture is God’s. In other words, what is secular is God’s, and what is sacred is God’s. Still, in other words, what is “common kingdom” is God’s, and what is “redemptive kingdom” is God’s. See the correspondence? The distinction is not nature versus God. The distinction is nature and supernature representing two distinct modes of revelation, from which man knows God naturally and supernaturally, corresponding to two distinct, yet complimentary, ways in which God governs the world.

All things are God’s, “Now all things are of God.” (2 Cor. 5:18) But all things must be distinguished. Natural law and positive law are God’s—but they must be distinguished. Preambles and articles of the faith are God’s—but they must be distinguished. The world and all its goods common to all people and the kingdom of God both belong to God—but those two things must be distinguished. Civil improvement and the distinct effects of the gospel to establish God’s kingdom and thereby redeem man both belong to God—but they must be distinguished, lest we lose the latter within the former.

Conclusion

To be clear, I’m not accusing any of the men I mention above of heresy or believing a false gospel unto their own destruction. I think many of these men love Christ, and desire the proliferation of the true gospel throughout the world. However, I am concerned with the inevitable, and often inadvertent, progress of these types of things. If we’re looking for political and social improvement, that’s what we will work for. But working for political and social improvement doesn’t at all require gospel ministry, not the kind of improvement mentioned by Webbon, that is. And that’s a big part of my concern. We will begin to let the sword of the gospel drag on the ground as we hold high the prospect of civil goods. Civil goods believed to be indicative of “kingdom advancement.” And if civil goods are kingdom advancement, and kingdom advancement is the goal of Christian evangelism, then what need is there for the gospel at all?

Resources

[1]  I’ve slightly edited this quote for readability, but have changed as little as possible. The original can be heard by clicking this time-stamped link: https://youtu.be/24zjrzVAFvU?t=449

[2] Joe Boot, Mission of God, (London: Wilberforce Publications, 2016), 79.

[3] William Bates, The Whole Works of the Rev. William Bates, ed. W. Farmer, vol. 2 (Harrisonburg, VA: Sprinkle Publications, 1990), 247–251.

Israel or Christ? Who Is God’s “Firstborn”?

Israel or Christ? Who Is God’s “Firstborn”?

The obvious answer to the question for any Bible-believing Christian is, “Jesus!” And while that is true, the answer could potentially be otherwise, which raises another question: How can there be more than one firstborn? A legitimate question in its own right. After all, politico-national Israel is also called the “firstborn” son of God in Exodus 4:22, “Then you shall say to Pharaoh, ‘Thus says the LORD: “Israel is My son, My firstborn.”’” Are there two firstborn sons? It would appear so. The question, therefore, is, In what sense(s) are either really ‘firstborn’?

The law of identity tells us that a thing cannot be what it is and yet another thing at the same time and in the same relationship. A door cannot be an elephant at the same time and in the same relationship. Could a door turn into an elephant? It would be highly unlikely, but at least framing the door-elephant situation in terms of transformation wouldn’t necessarily violate the law of identity since the door may become the elephant but would not be the elephant at the same time and in the same relationship. Can Israel and Christ both be the “firstborn son” at the same time and in the same relationship or sense? No. Otherwise, all reasoning, biblical and otherwise, would collapse upon the hypothesis that the law of identity does not hold. We would essentially be granting that anything could be anything. In such a case the very concept of “rationality” would explode into nonsense. “Coherence” itself would become ridiculous. To grant the violation of the formal laws of logic is to grant the reality, possibility, existence, and non-existence of everything and yet nothing at once. A foolish prospect to be sure.

So, what should we think about the relationship of Israel to Christ? If they are both called “firstborn” sons of God, in what sense is it so?

An Analytical Truth

An analytical statement occurs when the subject necessarily and definitionally entails its predicate. “All bachelors are unmarried men,” is the most popular example of an analytical statement. A bachelor just is an unmarried man. Likewise, “the firstborn son is primary in the order of filial relation,” is an analytical statement. To be “firstborn son” just is to be “primary in the order of filial relation.”

The Hebrew term used for “firstborn” in Exodus 4:22 is בָּכַר and means “firstborn” or “eldest” offspring. Jesus is likewise called the firstborn in Romans 8:29, “For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren.” The term πρωτότοκος, or “firstborn,” is the Greek equivalent to the aforementioned Hebrew term. These terms substantially carry the same meaning. And so, beyond the shadow of any doubt, we can affirm that both politico-national Israel and Christ are called “firstborn.”

It is important, therefore, to discover in what sense both can be “firstborn” given that to be “firstborn” just is “to be first in the order of filial relation. There can only be one. If both were “firstborn” at the same time and in the same sense, then a logical contradiction would appear in the pages of holy writ. And we can’t have that! To be “firstborn” just is to be “first in order of filiation.” So, who is really first? Israel or Christ? How should we overcome this dilemma?

An Important Qualification

Before we travel any further, I would like to avoid the risk of confusing the divine and human natures of Christ. There are two senses in which the Son of God is “firstborn.” Romans 8:29 calls Christ the “firstborn among many brethren.” And in Colossians 1:15, we read, “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.” Romans 8:29 seems to link His “firstborn-ness” to His human nature in relation to the resurrection whereas Colossians 1:15 appears to link His “firstborn-ness” to His begottenness of the Father, which serves as a reference to the eternal relation of origin—of Son from the Father (cf. Jn. 1:18).

Our Lord, according to His divinity, is not “firstborn” in the sense of coming into existence, but only in the sense of eternal generation. According to His human nature, however, our Lord is a creature, born into this world through the womb of His virgin mother by the power of the Holy Spirit. These two natures, divine and human, are ineffably united in His Person “without conversion, composition, or confusion (2LBCF, 8.2).”

In this article, I speak about “firstborn” as it relates to Christ. And when I do this, I refer to both senses—that He is begotten before all ages, consubstantial with the Father according to His deity, but also that He is firstborn by special creation of the Holy Spirit in the womb of the virgin by incarnation and then firstborn from the dead through His resurrection. These taken together signify Christ’s ultimate, true status as the firstborn of God the Father.

We might add at this point that if this consideration establishes Christ as the firstborn, we are then left wondering in what sense Israel was or is God’s firstborn son according to Exodus 4:22.

A Proposed Solution to the Dilemma

Remember the dilemma: Both politico-national Israel and Christ are called God’s “firstborn son.” But, as we’ve seen, the notion of “firstborn son” is analytical. There can only be one at the same time and in the same relationship. How do we break the tie?

First, it would be helpful to state at the outset that there is no tie. Israel and Christ are not in competition for first place. Rather, politico-national Israel is an historical institution whose divinely-appointed purpose was to reveal the true firstborn Son of God to the Old Testament elect saints. I do not merely mean that Israel is the earthly origin of divine revelation concerning Christ. That much is trivially true (Rom. 3:2). I rather mean that Israel itself is an historical institution that types forth Christ through its mission and movement. This is, perhaps, most clearly seen in the purposeful parallels between Jesus’ wilderness temptation in Matthew 4:1-11 and Israel’s wilderness temptation recounted in Deuteronomy 6-8. It is also made quite clear in Matthew’s record of Christ’s own exodus from Egypt where Hosea 11:1, a text about national Israel, is said to have been fulfilled in Jesus’ return to Israel (cf. Matt. 2:15).

This is the sum and substance of typology. A type is a person, place, institution, or event that figures another and greater person, place, institution, or event. Examples include the first Adam as he types forth the last Adam (Rom. 5:14), Israel as the land of rest as it types forth glory as the land of rest (Heb. 4), David as king as he types forth Christ as king (Ps. 110:1; Matt. 2:45), etc. The type is the thing that reveals, the antitype is the thing that is revealed. Adam is the type, Christ is the antitype; David is the type, Christ is the antitype, and so on.

But wait, there’s more!

It’s not altogether uncommon for the type to bear the names or titles of the antitypes to which they look. For example, Jesus is the King, but David is still yet a king. Jesus is the prince of peace, though Melchizedek is called the king of Salem (or the king of peace). Therefore, when politico-national Israel is called the “firstborn” in Exodus 4:22, it is actually bearing the filial title of the antitype to which it looks—the Lord Jesus. This especially becomes clear in the way in which Christ recapitulates the acts of Israel in His baptism, wilderness wandering, and wilderness testing. These three basic acts repeat Israel’s passage through the red sea, wilderness wandering, and wilderness testing. What is more, Christ successfully thwarted Satan’s agenda whilst Old Testament Israel failed time and time again.

Politico-national Israel, then, is the type of its other and greater antitype, the Lord Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ is the true and only firstborn Son of God. Israel’s purpose was revelatory in nature. Israel revealed something of what Christ would do, but it also revealed man’s desperate need for Christ through its failure to attain that to which it was called—obedience and the land of rest promised as a result. Israel failed in its obedience. Christ succeeds. He is the new and greater Israel, the firstborn Son of God.

Conclusion

Typology is a valuable tool in the Bible-reader’s toolbox because it gives us a category to understand the way in which an all-sovereign God uses history itself for His own revelatory purposes. Scripture is not a document among other human-authored documents, like Homer’s Iliad or Odyssey. As great as both those works are, they cannot touch Scripture. Scripture is the sovereignly-inspired record of sovereignly-affected events in history established by an all-sovereign God. God uses things to signify other and greater things. In this case, God has chosen the physical descendants of Abraham to reveal and signify our great need for Christ and what Christ would do. They further typed forth a people not born of genealogical descent, but by the Holy Spirit of God.

God has not only worked in history, but has molded history itself to reveal yet more glorious historical developments. Israel of old, as sinful as it was, has been employed under divine providence to reveal something of our Savior and what He would accomplish on behalf of the entirety of God’s elect.

7 Biblical Reasons for a Figurative Reading of Ezekiel 40-48

7 Biblical Reasons for a Figurative Reading of Ezekiel 40-48

Some, particularly of the dispensational persuasion, take the temple and the accompanying sacrifices revealed in Ezekiel 40-48 as a literal temple and sacrificial system which will be established at the time of the future millennium. My goal is to show how this understanding of Ezekiel 40ff cannot coexist with what is clearly set down in Hebrews 10. And my presupposition is that the epistle to the Hebrews should interpret the related texts of Ezekiel 40ff for us. The New Testament is, after all, an inspired commentary on the Old. I want to also note something about the language of literal interpretation. Much has been made of the literal or the normative interpretive method. Every text, it is thought, must be interpreted literally.

Instead, I propose that the Bible often communicates literal truths through other-than-literal means. For example, the shadows of the animal sacrifices. Were the shadows literal atoning sacrifices? Absolutely not. They did not literally atone for sin. They were typological sacrifices. Yet, is the literal atoning Sacrifice of Christ revealed by means of them? Absolutely! Another example is found in the New Testament, when the church is called a temple. “If anyone defiles the temple of God, God will destroy him. For the temple of God is holy, which temple you are (1 Cor. 3:17).” Does this mean that the church is a literal brick and mortar temple? No. But is this text true and thus literal? Absolutely. There is a literal meaning here communicated through figurative means. All the Bible is literal, but the means through which it communicates literal truths are not always literal, i.e. biblical metaphors always communicate literal (real) things, even though the metaphors themselves are not literal.

In many cases, God uses literal things to signify greater literal things, and this we call typology, e.g. David and Goliath, the temple, the priesthood, Solomon’s wisdom, etc. But in other cases, God will use literary word-pictures, usually given in visions or dreams, to signify literal things, e.g. Ezekiel’s temple, Nebuchadnezzar’s dream (Dan. 2:24-45), etc.

In Ezekiel 40-48, there are several things mentioned which, if taken literally in themselves, will create great conflict with the New Testament, and will end up destroying the gospel altogether if consistently followed through. I want to survey some of the many things mentioned in Ezekiel 40ff which requires us to see it describing a figurative temple, which I believe to be the revelation of Christ and His people (but that’s another article). The following are reasons why Ezekiel 40-48 cannot, in no wise, be taken for a literal, future, brick and mortar temple—

Sin Offerings

“In the vestibule of the gateway were two tables on this side and two tables on that side, on which to slay the burnt offering, the sin offering, and the trespass offering (Ezek. 40:39).” Also see Ezekiel 46. However, Hebrews 10:18 tells us, “Now where there is remission of [sins], there is no longer an offering for sin.” One could make the argument that the “sin offerings” described in Ezekiel 40 are not actually offered for sins, but are only typological. However, that’s exactly what the Old Testament sacrifices were—typological. Hebrews 10:18 is telling us that typological sacrifices no longer exist since the fulfillment of those sacrifices are found in Christ Jesus.

The Levitical Priesthood

“The chamber which faces north is for the priests who have charge of the altar; these are the sons of Zadok, from the sons of Levi, who come near the LORD to minister to Him (Ezek. 40:46).” The majority of the epistle to the Hebrews has thus far belaboured the superiority of Christ’s priesthood over the Levitical priesthood. And it tells us, “We have such a High Priest, who is seated at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens, a Minister of the sanctuary and of the true tabernacle which the Lord erected, and not man (Heb. 8:1-2).” If Ezekiel 40ff were taken literally, then it follows the Levitical priesthood is to be reestablished, even though we have a better priest in Christ.

Animal Blood of Consecration

“You shall take some of its blood and put it on the four horns of the altar, on the four corners of the ledge, and on the rim around it; thus you shall cleanse it and make atonement for it (Ezek. 43:20).” Thus, the altar in the Ezeklian temple, if taken literally, is consecrated by animal blood, something Hebrews expressly tells us is but a copy of the heavenly things. Christ came, “Not with the blood of goats and calves, but with His own blood He entered the Most Holy Place once for all, having obtained eternal redemption (Heb. 9:12).” Was His blood not enough?

Fleshly Temple Restrictions

“No foreigner, uncircumcised in heart or uncircumcised in flesh, shall enter My sanctuary, including any foreigner who is among the children of Israel (Ezek. 44:9).” To enter the temple sanctuary, circumcision in the flesh is required. But, according to Acts 15:10, James calles circumcision a “yoke on the neck of the disciples which neither our fathers nor we were able to bear.” And in v. 11, asserts that salvation will take place in the same manner for all who are in Christ, no matter Jew or Gentile. If some are circumcised and others are not, this being a gospel necessity for some people but not others, then salvation is different for some than it is for others, i.e. not in the same manner.

The Ceremonial Feast Days

“In the first month, on the fourteenth day of the month, you shall observe the Passover, a feast of seven days; unleavened bread shall be eaten. And on that day the prince shall prepare for himself and for all the people of the land a bull for a sin offering (Ezek. 45:21-22).” The feast days, however, in the New Covenant, are abolished, “So let no one judge you in food or in drink, or regarding a festival or a new moon or Sabbaths (Col. 2:16).” And, if one were to say, “It’s only the Gentiles who are not to be judged, but the Jews will still keep these ordinances as a matter of conscience,” then they deny what comes after this text, that the new man—which all who are in Christ have put on—is “where there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcised nor uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave nor free, but Christ is all and in all (Col. 3:11).”

The Old Testament Sabbath

“The gateway of the inner court that faces toward the east shall be shut the six working days; but on the Sabbath it shall be opened, and on the day of the New Moon it shall be opened (Ezek. 46:1).” The Sabbath has been changed in the New Covenant, “For the priesthood being changed, of necessity there is also a change in the law (Heb. 7:12).” But this Old Testament Sabbath, where the people work in order to rest, has been abolished as we learn in Colossians 2:16 and in Hebrews 4.

The Living Water

“And it shall be that every living thing that moves, wherever the rivers go, will live. There will be a very great multitude of fish, because these waters go there; for they will be healed, and everything will live wherever the river goes (Ezek. 47:9).” The living water which comes from the right side of the temple must be figurative. For Christ has declared Himself to be the living water, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you, ‘Give Me a drink,’ you would have asked Him, and He would have given you living water (Jn. 4:10).” And because the people of God are the temple of God, it is from their hearts the living water flows, “He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water (Jn. 7:38).” In John 4:13-14, Jesus says, “Whoever drinks of this water will thirst again, 14 but whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst. But the water that I shall give him will become in him a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life.” How does one receive the living water? John 6:35 tells us, “He who comes to Me shall never hunger, and he who believes in Me shall never thirst.”

The King & His Throne

The King & His Throne

It was May 14, 1948, just a few years after the end of the war, when David Ben-Gurion declared Palestine to be an Israeli nation-state. Then U. S. President, Harry Truman, joined Ben-Gurion in recognizing Israel’s sovereignty. Since that time, discussion surrounding the biblical significance of the reconstitution of “Israel” has erupted. Trying to describe the extent to which this geo-political development has been shoved into biblical interpretation would perhaps be the understatement of the millennium (pun intended). Political Zionism has been fused with Christian theology in a sometimes unhealthy and, I would argue, an altogether wrong way.

The advent of the political nation of Israel spurred an immediate materialism in terms of what Jesus’ kingdom actually was/is. What do I mean? I mean that Christ’s kingdom, as well as His kingship, became nigh entirely visible, which meant that it could in no wise obtain at present. Christ is not yet king because He does not yet rule in Israel. Dwight Pentecost writes:

David’s son, the Lord Jesus Christ, must return to the earth, bodily and literally, in order to reign over David’s covenanted kingdom. The allegation that Christ is seated on the Father’s throne reigning over a spiritual kingdom, the church, simply does not fulfill the promises of the covenant … A literal earthly kingdom must be constituted over which the returned Messiah reigns (Things to Come, pp. 114,115).

For Pentecost, Christ has a non-literal (?) kingdom now, and will have a literal kingdom later. There is an implied reduction going on here between the Father’s kingdom, i.e. throne, on the one hand, and the Son’s (Davidic) kingdom on the other. And there is a distinction made in places like Revelation 3:21, “To him who overcomes I will grant to sit with Me on My throne, as I also overcame and sat down with My Father on His throne.” Christ’s throne, it is imagined, will be the throne established in political Israel, and the Father’s throne is the heavenly throne.

Some Clarity

It is fair to say Christ’s throne and the Father’s throne are distinguishable along the lines Revelation 3:21 distinguishes them. I believe it is also fair to understand a future element in the throne of Christ. The promise to the saints, after all, is, “I will grant the overcomers to sit with Me on My throne.” But to relegate the throne of Christ to some material and geographical thing is, in my estimation, to devalue the concept. Moreover, to make the throne of Christ entirely future neglects other texts found in Scripture which speaks to Christ’s throne. For example, “To the Son He says, ‘Your throne, O God, is forever and ever; A scepter of righteousness is the scepter of your kingdom (Heb. 1:8).’” This is Christ’s throne being spoken of here. This is confirmed by looking at Psalm 45:6, 7, from whence Hebrews 1:8 is taken— “You love righteousness and hate wickedness; Therefore God, Your God, has anointed You With the oil of gladness more than Your companions.” This throne, scepter, and kingdom are each part of a coextensive unit which came as a result of Christ’s finished work. Christ was victorious at His first coming, “Therefore God, Your God, has anointed You With the oil of gladness more than your companions.”

In John 1:49, Nathaniel declares Jesus to be the King of Israel. And in 12:13, on Palm Sunday, Jesus is announced, “The King of Israel!” In Matthew 2:2, the Wise Men came, saying, “Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the East and have come to worship Him.” In Zechariah 9:9, we read, “your King is coming to you; He is just and having salvation, Lowly and riding on a donkey, A colt, the foal of a donkey.” This prophecy was fulfilled in Matthew 21, where Jesus is consciously declaring Himself to be King through His very intentional fulfillment of Zechariah 9:9. When the Pharisees told Him to rebuke the disciples for declaring His royalty, He responded, “I tell you that if these should keep silent, the stones would immediately cry out,” signifying His kingship over, not only Israel, but all creation (Rom. 4:13).

The Good Confession

There are several places where Christ’s past, present, and future kingship are asserted. Yet one of the most striking places, perhaps one of the places less thought of as a “kingship” text, is 1 Timothy 6:13, “I urge you in the sight of God who gives life to all things, and before Christ Jesus who witnessed the good confession before Pontius Pilate.” In v. 12, Timothy is said to have also confessed the good confession. It’s not immediately clear what these two confessions are. Assumedly, they are the same confession, or at least, what Timothy confessed was something first confessed by Christ. Timothy, then, followed in Christ’s footsteps by making this same confession.

Paul gives us a hint as to where to find this good confession. He says Jesus witnessed it “before Pontius Pilate.” And he hints at the confession’s identity in v. 15, “which He will manifest in His own time, He who is the blessed and only Potentate, the King of kings and Lord of lords.” Not only does Paul clearly understand Jesus as a King presently, and presently ruling, i.e. “only Potentate,” but he is also referencing a place wherein Jesus declared Himself to actually and presently be King. In John 18:37, we read:

Pilate therefore said to Him, “Are You a king then?” Jesus answered, “You say rightly that I am a king. For this cause I was born, and for this cause I have come into the world, that I should bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth hears My voice.”

What was the “good confession” Christ made before Pontius Pilate? It was nothing less than His kingship. In fact, Jesus goes further by saying, “For this cause I was born.” And, of course, this cause was declared in Luke 1:32 by the angel Gabriel, “He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Highest; and the Lord God will give Him the throne of His father David.” It is stated once more in Acts 2:30, “Therefore, being a prophet, and knowing that God had sworn with an oath to him that of the fruit of his body, according to the flesh, He would raise up the Christ to sit on his throne.”

Conclusion

I am perfectly fine with understanding a future, or consummative significance to Christ’s inherited throne, i.e. the throne of David. But what many in dispensational circles have done is move any and all of Christ’s kingly reality into the future—to the harm of the text of Scripture I might add. Instead, I think we should understand Christ’s kingship as having been inaugurated at His first coming, especially with the fulfillment of His work. Yet, we await the consummation, or completion, of that kingship upon His return.

I also do not see the need to locate Christ’s kingly rule in a political nation established through carnal means and built up by the hands of men. In fact, I believe that degrades the glory of Christ, and it also misunderstands the function of typology, e.g. that found in 2 Samuel 7 and elsewhere. Christ does not have to possess the throne of His father David as David possessed it. In fact, if David and His throne were typological of Christ and His throne, and they were, then the type necessitates Christ actually inherit something other and greater than what David had. Just as Christ hasn’t merely merited a return to the garden state, but something greater, so too Christ has merited a greater throne toward which David’s throne in historical Israel could only look.