What is the Book of Revelation about?

Imagine you’re a Christian living in Asia Minor in the late first century. Everyone around you participates in the emperor cult, a religious group dedicated to honouring the emperor and offering sacrifices to him. In this culture, everyone is allowed to have their own personal religious beliefs, so long as they participate in the cult.

The temptation for you as a Christian to participate in the emperor cult would be huge. By refusing to participate, you would be marking yourself out as a threat to the social order. Everyone would view you with suspicion and you might even be banned from buying and selling in the marketplace.

So when Revelation talks about a “mark of the beast” needed for buying and selling, or an idolatrous image being erected so that everyone would bow down and worship it (Rev 13:15-17), it’s talking about the emperor cult. This was the central temptation facing many early Christians. And that’s exactly who Revelation is written to. As we read only a few verses into the book:

 “John, to the seven churches that are in Asia”
(Revelation 1:4)

Unfortunately, people can sometimes lose sight of this when reading Revelation. There is a tendency to regard the book as if it was written to them personally, or perhaps to a final generation of Christians living just before Jesus returns. And certainly we can apply the message of Revelation to believers living in all ages (just as we do for the rest of the bible). But to do this properly, we first need to understand what it meant for the original audience.

Worship as Warfare

Turning back to the central themes of Revelation, it’s worth noting that the emperor cult has an opposite – the true worship of God. Christian worship is often described using priestly language taken from the old testament:

• Heavenly incense is said to represent the prayers of believers (5:8)
• The sacrificial lives of martyrs are compared to blood offered under the altar (6:9)
• The people of God are described as a heavenly tabernacle (13:6)
• Priestly garments are used to represent righteous deeds (19:8)

When Revelation talks about battles being fought, it isn’t talking about literal earthly battles involving swords and shields. It’s talking about liturgical battles, worship as warfare. It’s the true worship of God versus the false worship of the beast.

Consider the vision of the kings from the east in Revelation 16:12-16. A body of water (the Euphrates) is miraculously removed, allowing the kings to pass through on dry land. This is a biblical motif which echoes the parting of the red sea and the crossing of the river Jordan.

This suggests that these “kings from the east” represent the people of God, unlike the wicked “kings of the earth” in Revelation (eg. 17:2). The title “kings of the east” reminds us of the magi who came to visit Jesus at his birth (Matthew 2:1). Also, the word for “east” means “rising sun” which could identify them with Jesus (1:16) and with the old covenant faithful (12:1).

And notice the place where they gather to fight the beastly powers. It’s called Armageddon, a Hebrew idiom which means “the mount of Meggido”. In the old testament, Meggido was a plain where armies often gathered for battle. But this is describing a mountain, which geographically is most likely a reference to mount Carmel. Carmel was the place where Elijah and the prophets of Baal met and offered sacrifices, with the true worship of God being vindicated over the false worship of Baal.

The climactic vision in 19:11-21 is often understood as a vision of the return of Christ. But once again, it makes more sense as a liturgical battle than a literal one. When Jesus shows up with the armies of heaven, the sword that he fights with comes out of his mouth (v15, v21), a reference to the word which he speaks. His word is like a sacrificial sword, and he treads the winepress of God’s wrath, preparing grapes for offering as libations. None of this is a denial of the reality of divine judgement, but it is an important reframing of how such judgements often work in history.

Setting the Stage

Once we’ve understood the historical context, many of the key characters are not difficult to identify:

• The beast represents Roman imperial power in all of its idolatrous glory – inspired by the four beasts of Daniel 7 (Rev 13:1-10)
• The false prophet is the emperor cult, a localized and religious expression of Roman power (Rev 13:11-18)
• Babylon the great represents the city of Rome, ruling over the kings of the earth by its founding myths of violence, sexual immorality and pagan idolatry (Rev 17)
• The dragon represents the devil, the spiritual ruler at work behind these earthly powers (Rev 12)

But the most important character in the book is of course the Church – the people of the Lamb. The Church is represented in various ways throughout the book:

• In the vision of the 144,000 saints and in the great multitude that follows (Rev 7)
• In the holy city and temple and the two witnesses (Rev 11:1-13)
• In the bride who descends from heaven (Rev 21:1 – 22:5)

Putting it all together, if the book of Revelation is about the conflict between Christian worship and Roman idolatry, then the climax of the book must represent the victory of Christianity over Roman paganism (Rev 19:19-21). This was fulfilled historically in the conversion of Constantine and the anti-pagan reforms of Theodosius I.

When we read of Babylon burning down (Rev 18:9), we should think of pagan temples being torn down by Theodosius. When we read of the beast and false prophet being defeated (Rev 19:20), we should think of the emperor cult being disbanded by Constantine. All of this represented a vindication of those who had been martyred at the hand of the beast (Rev 20:4), who had remained faithful unto death and refused to participate in the emperor cult.

This isn’t to suggest that Revelation has nothing to say about the return of Christ or the new creation. The final section of the book addresses precisely this (Rev 20:7 – 21:8). But while the new creation is the central Christian hope it’s mentioned as a final epilogue to the book rather than its central animating story.

Conclusion

Some will object that a ‘historical’ reading of Revelation like this has nothing to say to us today. On the contrary, I think such a reading gives us great confidence today. After all, if God vindicated his people over such demonic powers before, then we can trust Him to do the same again for us whenever such forces arise to threaten the Church.

And when we are faced with such challenges, we can turn to the same means that the first century believers did: faithful witness, true worship in the Spirit and a firm resistance to all forms of idolatrous compromise.

“They will make war on the Lamb, and the Lamb will conquer them, for he is Lord of lords and King of kings, and those with him are called and chosen and faithful.”
(Revelation 17:14)

Christmas is about Zerubbabel

In my previous post, I made the case that the old testament promises of Israel’s restoration were fulfilled in the return from exile which happened during the Persian empire. In this post, I’ll be narrowing more specifically on the famous ‘nativity’ passages in the old testament. In particular, my contention is that they refer originally to Zerubbabel, the royal descendent of David who ruled as governor of Judea and oversaw the restoration of Israel after the exile. Once I’ve shown this, I’ll then address the new testament nativity passages and how to make sense of them in light of this.

The Virgin Shall Conceive

The first nativity passage to consider is the famous promise of a son in Isaiah 7:

Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel. He shall eat curds and honey when he knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good. For before the boy knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land whose two kings you dread will be deserted. The Lord will bring upon you and upon your people and upon your father’s house such days as have not come since the day that Ephraim departed from Judah—the king of Assyria.
(Isaiah 7:14-17)

In this passage, Isaiah announces the birth of a child as a sign. But a sign of what? And to whom?

In context, the sign is to Ahaz, the wicked king of the southern kingdom of Judah. At the time, he was scared of the northern kingdom who posed a great military threat to the south. But God promised him that northern Israel, this “nation of two kings”, would be deserted and defeated. That the king of Assyria would sweep in and destroy the wicked northern kingdom. That’s the reality that this promised child signified.

The text is quite explicit about when this promised child would be born – the northern kingdom would be defeated and the land deserted before he reached the age of maturity (v16). Ahaz could watch this child grow and develop, knowing that before he fully came of age, God would fulfil the promise of “Immanuel” to deliver Judah from the threats of the northern kingdom.

This all took place hundreds of years before Christ was born under the Assyrian empire. What’s more, the following chapter (8:1-4) clearly outlines the fulfilment of the promise in the birth of Isaiah’s own son, Maher-shalal-hash-baz, born of an unnamed prophetess. The word often translated “virgin” (almah) in Isaiah 7:14 simply means a young woman – it doesn’t require that she is a virgin.

A Son is Given

In Isaiah 9, we move on to another famous passage about a child being born:

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and for evermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.”
(Isaiah 9:6-7)

This sounds far greater and more glorious than anything associated with Maher-shalal-hash-baz and the judgement on the northern kingdom of Israel. With this passage we’ve clearly moved on in history. The key to understanding the context is to identify the crisis that this passage resolves. It speaks of Israel being “in anguish” and “under contempt” (v1). It speaks of Israel being engulfed in “darkness” (v2). All of these are references to the exile.

So the fulfilment of this promise must be associated with the return from exile. It speaks of the nations oppressing Israel no longer warring against the covenant people (v4-5). It speaks of a child being born who would rule over Israel and represent God’s presence and comfort to his people (v6). I think there has to be at least an initial fulfilment in the person of Zerubbabel. He was the governor of Judea who oversaw the return of Israel to the land after the exile.

One potential issue with this reading is verse 7 – Zerubbabel didn’t literally rule on the throne of David as a king. But as a faithful descendent of David and ruler of Israel under the Persian empire, he still stood as a representative of God’s promise to David. And insofar as Israel remained faithful to God, they would enjoy continual peace and prosperity under his rule.

As an aside, it’s worth noting that Jesus also didn’t reign on the throne of David in a literal, earthly sense. He sits upon a heavenly throne, ruling over all creation (not merely Israel). He takes up the original promise and transposes it to a greater, higher meaning.

But You, O Bethlehem

Our final ‘nativity’ passage is found in the book of Micah:

But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel,
whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days.
(Micah 5:2)

It’s Zerubbabel again. He was a descendent of David from the tribe of Judah, an ancient tribe with an ancient lineage. Verse 1 sets the context – this is about liberation from exile.

More specifically, verses 5-6 refer specifically to the Assyrians being held at bay, unable to attack Israel as they had done before in taking them into exile. This has direct application to Zerubbabel who re-established the Jews in the land and ensured that their enemies were restrained. Verses 7-15 speak of the surviving remnant after the exile returning to the land and God rooting out idolatry from the people, all of which took place at that time.

None of this historical context excludes Jesus from the meaning. Jesus is, after all, the heart of the whole bible – from Genesis to Revelation. But it’s important to ground our understanding first in the historical meaning before seeing how the text points to Jesus as the greater “Immanuel”, as “Mighty God” in the flesh (and not merely in a representative sense).

The Birth of Jesus

How, then, do the Gospels go about applying these passages to the birth of Jesus? To understand this, consider Matthew’s use of Hosea 11:1 in Matthew 2:15. The Hosea passage very clearly refers back to Israel being brought out of Egypt under Moses. Yet Matthew re-uses the passage and applies it to Jesus and the holy family journeying to Egypt to escape the violence of Herod. Matthew describes this as a “fulfilment” even though it isn’t the original, historical meaning of the passage. This is typological language – not fulfilment in a strict historical sense.

In a similar vein, Matthew 1:22-23 speaks of Isaiah’s promise in Isaiah 7:14 as being “fulfilled” through the virgin birth. Just as Maher-shalal-hash-baz was a sign of God’s presence with his people, so too is Jesus. Jesus is a sign of salvation not merely from historical enemies like the northern kingdom – Jesus brings salvation from the powers of sin (Matthew 1:21).

As the greater sign of divine salvation, it’s fitting that Jesus was born from a woman completely apart from the agency of a man – born of a virgin. Jesus represents “Immanuel” – God with us – in a greater way than Maher-shalal-hash-baz ever could. We’re dealing here with a greater, secondary fulfilment rather than the original historical fulfilment.

Much the same is true of the promise of a ruler from Bethlehem in Micah 5:2. Matthew 2:5-6 can apply this passage to Jesus even if the original historical fulfilment happened under Zerubbabel. The presence of Gentile wise men coming to the holy land confirms the cosmic scope of what Jesus came to do. He didn’t merely come to save Israel from their enemies, he came to bring salvation to the world. In Jesus, God takes these promises and raises them up to a higher level, elevating them above their original fulfilment.

“The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy—the Son of God.”
(Luke 1:35)

The Restoration of Israel

In the old testament, there are a series of promises connected to the restoration of Israel after a period of exile. These promises contain the following elements:

• Israel will return to the land, the tribes re-united (Jeremiah 30, Ezekiel 37)
• They will be ruled by a Davidic king (Jeremiah 23, Ezekiel 34)
• There will be a new temple and a restored priesthood (Ezekiel 40-48, Haggai 1-2)
• God’s Law will be written on the hearts of his people (Jeremiah 31, Ezekiel 36)
• The Gentile nations will stream to Zion and learn the ways of God (Isaiah 2, Jeremiah 8)
• The exile will end with sins forgiven and a new covenant established (Jeremiah 31, Daniel 9)

Historically, there have been two major approaches to understanding how these promises are fulfilled. I will outline both of these approaches and the pros and cons of each.

Evaluating the Approaches

The first approach I will describe as the Christocentric approach. This approach tends to involve a gradual fulfilment beginning with the return from exile and being completed through the coming of Jesus. So when the people of Israel returned from exile, there was a reunification of the tribes, a partially restored temple and priesthood and so on. But other aspects, such as the coming of the Davidic king, the Law being written on the hearts of the people, the Gentiles coming to a knowledge of God, the new covenant and the forgiveness of sins weren’t completed until the coming of Christ.

A key advantage of this approach is that it harmonizes well with the new testament. The new testament does, after all, seem to apply these various promises to Christ and the new covenant Church. The issue with the approach is that it ends up allegorising away inconvenient aspects of the promises. For instance, the restored temple becomes a vision of the Church. The promise of the nations streaming to Zion becomes an allegory of the Gentiles being incorporated into the Church. None of this would have made a great deal of sense to the original recipients of the promises, the exiled Jews taken into captivity.

The second approach I will describe as the Futurist approach. This approach takes the various promises extremely literally but locates their fulfilment in the distant future relative to the original recipients. So they envision a future time (almost always equated with the millennial reign in Revelation) in which Jesus will return as Davidic king, Israel will be restored to the land and the temple and priesthood re-established with Israel at the head of the nations.

This approach has something important in its favour – it does a far better job of handling the details of the promises than the first approach. It sees fulfilment in more concrete terms. However, it completely messes up the timing. Relocating the fulfilment into the distant future is a convenient solution but such an enormous delay would have made no sense to the original recipients of the promise. They were, after all, already in exile and expecting the fulfilment to happen upon their return, not in a future return from a second exile!

A Better Solution

So what is the solution then? How are we to understand the fulfilment of the promises in a way which would have made sense to the original recipients? To resolve this dilemma we need to consider a third approach, what I am going to call the Historical approach.

The essence of this approach is as follows – the timing of the fulfilment must broadly fit within the expectations of the original recipients of the promises. This approach allows for non-literal language such as typology and prophetic hyperbole. But it ensures a concrete fulfilment of the promises which would have been intelligible to the original Jewish exiles.

Under this approach, the promise of a Davidic king is fulfilled in the person of Zerubbabel, who was the governor of Judea after the exile and a descendent of David. He wasn’t a “king” in the full sense but the Hebrew language is flexible on this point. He was nonetheless considered God’s signet ring – a sign of unity and blessing for the post-exilic people of God, alongside Joshua the high priest (Zechariah 4, Haggai 1-2).

The new temple and restored priesthood certainly came to pass. One issue sometimes raised with this is that the outward glory of the second temple was never a one-to-one match with the exalted description of the temple in places like Haggai or Ezekiel. However, these are idealized visions which represent the spiritual glory of the restoration era – they shouldn’t be interpreted as literal descriptions.

Speaking of spiritual glory, the writing of the Law on the hearts of the people is fulfilled in the anti-idolatry tendencies of post-exilic Judaism. The Jews who returned were determined never again to commit the sins which led to the exile in the first place. This is not to suggest that the renewed Judaism was perfect or that there were no issues – merely to point out that it was a genuinely transformed Judaism more centred on obedience to the Law. Issues still arose, as we see in Ezra and Nehemiah, but this time around the people were far more proactive in resolving them.

One interesting aspect of the post-exilic settlement was the establishment of synagogues throughout the ancient world. These extended the glory of Zion out to the nations, leading many Gentiles to submit to the God of Israel. Many of these went on to make the yearly pilgrimage to Jerusalem, as we see in the many God-fearing Gentiles depicted in the book of Acts (Psalm 122, Acts 2).

Jesus and the New Testament

What then do we do with the New Testament and its appropriation of these promises to Christ and the Church? I would view this as a secondary and greater kind of fulfilment, a intensified application of the promise in a new context. By the time Jesus arrived on the scene, the old restoration settlement had broken down. The religious leaders had become legalistic, the people were loaded with heavy burdens and there were demons throughout Israel.

Into this context Jesus came as a new Zerubbabel, the greater descendent of David, to renew the covenant once again and to bring an even greater forgiveness of sins through his atoning death on the cross. He came to bring a unity not merely between the northern and southern tribes of Israel, but between every tribe, tongue and nation on earth – forming them into a new body in Him. He came to write the law of the Spirit into the hearts of his people, shaping them into a new temple and priesthood in service to God.

Jesus is not merely the fulfilment of the restoration promises. He’s even better than that – an elevation of the promise to a higher key than that known before.

"Christ has obtained a ministry that is as much more excellent than the old as the covenant he mediates is better, since it is enacted on better promises."
(Hebrews 8:6)

Spiritual Warfare as Dominion

In the growing charismatic and pentecostal world, you will find people who have developed an elaborate set of beliefs and practices around the spiritual world. You will find classifications of different kinds of angels and demons, different methods of healing and deliverance and various writings devoted to such practices.

In the kind of conservative evangelical circles I tend to inhabit, everyone is super suspicious about all of this. It’s considered highly speculative and going beyond what the bible teaches about these things to get too specific about this stuff. Even for those who are open to certain charismatic beliefs, there remains a lingering biblicism, a desire not to go beyond the explicit teaching of scripture. After all, it is suggested, if God wanted us to know about all of this, wouldn’t it be in the Bible?

This kind of cautious instinct can be traced all the way back to John Calvin. As he writes in his Institutes:

“Wherefore, if we would be duly wise, we must renounce those vain babblings of idle men, concerning the nature, ranks, and number of angels, without any authority from the Word of God.”

Institutes of the Christian Religion: Book 1, chapter 14

This kind of cautious biblicism remains the default setting in Reformed-influenced contexts to this day. And it’s an understandable response in many ways: there are certainly many Christians who have fallen into the more sensationalist appeal of these things and allowed them to become a distraction from the godly habits and disciplines of the Christian life.

Foundations, not Details

But I don’t think that’s the full picture. And I don’t think Calvin’s cautious biblicism is fully justified here. To understand why, we need to consider the broader topic of dominion.
Going back to Genesis 1, we discover that God has given a special commission to the human race:

“Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.”

Genesis 1:28

What’s fascinating about this is that we are not told anywhere in the bible the details of how exactly how this dominion should work in practice. What kinds of tools should human beings build? What kinds of institutions should they develop? How can they co-ordinate properly to ensure that they are unified in their endeavours? And so on.

What the bible does give us is foundations. It tells us that the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom. That dominion lived out in practice begins with the worship of God and obedience to his commandments. But it doesn’t give us hard-and-fast rules about how all of this should work. Instead, God expects us to try different things, to see what works and what doesn’t and to learn from our experiences.

We see this re-iterated in the teachings of Jesus. Consider the parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30). Jesus doesn’t want his servants to take the treasures of the kingdom that they’ve received and to bury them, building a fence around them. He wants them to invest their resources and try to build great things from them. He wants them to experiment, to try things out and see what works and expect that God will give a return to their efforts, even if they don’t see such a return in their own lifetimes.

Spiritual Dominion

Conservative evangelicals are happy to take this more expansive approach when it comes to their careers or their pursuit of knowledge more broadly. They’re even happy with it in Christian ministry up to a certain point. In these contexts, they feel comfortable with experimentation and the development of practical knowledge and wisdom. But when it comes to the spiritual realm, they tend to be far more cautious.

At heart, there’s a kind of Manichean logic sitting behind this. A sense that the spiritual realm operates according to an entirely different logic than the physical realm. But the historic Christian faith simply won’t allow such a logic to stand. As Jesus says in the great commission: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” (Matthew 28:18)

Both heaven and earth are subject to Jesus and his Lordship. Just as God is the Creator of both the material and the spiritual, so too is Jesus Lord of both realms. That’s how he can give his disciples the authority to cast out demons and wage war “against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 6:12)

And as with the original dominion mandate given to humanity, he doesn’t spell out for us exactly how we do this. We are given certain foundations – like prayer, fasting, the practice of godliness and so on. But it’s down to us to try different things, to figure out for ourselves what works and what doesn’t, to build upon these foundations.

And that’s exactly what many charismatic and pentecostal believers are doing – developing a practical knowledge of spiritual dominion through experimentation. That necessarily involves going beyond the bounds of explicit biblical teaching. It involves developing a terminology and particular methods which can seem very strange to outsiders.

But in principle what they’re doing is no different to the scientist working in his lab or the researcher exploring their field of interest. They’re exercising dominion – spiritual dominion – in practical ways. And that inevitably involves taking risks and being open to making mistakes.

Bad Instincts

I’ll admit that I’m not an expert at this kind of stuff. Culturally, I’m as conservative evangelical as they come. I’m good at the theorising, less so at the practical stuff. But I’m all too aware of a tendency in many conservative circles to turn our noses up at people who are doing this kind of ministry. To write it all off because it’s too ‘speculative’ or because it happens to be abused by charlatans who can make a tidy profit from sensationalism and fear-mongering.

And I think the underlying instinct that sits behind this is really: I can’t relate to this. This is all too weird and I don’t feel comfortable with it. And I think we should reject this instinct and instead recognise that God gives different kinds of gifts and dispositions to different kinds of believers.

This isn’t even about the issue of cessationism versus continuationism. That debate has to do with the understanding of gifts like tongues and prophecy, how they work and whether they have a place in the church today. There are good arguments on both sides of the issue and for myself I sit somewhat on the fence.

But it’s a red herring: a distraction from the real issue. Whether or not the revelatory gifts continue today and how is a small matter, a drop in the bucket compared to the enormous issue of spiritual dominion. I conclude with the words of Jesus:

“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. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

Matthew 16:18-19

Matthew 24 and the End of the World

In Matthew 24, Jesus describes a series of cataclysmic events like war, famines, earthquakes (v6-7) and a time of great suffering (v21). These events culminate in the heavenly bodies being darkened, people witnessing Jesus and him sending out angels to gather his people (v29-31).

All of this sounds to modern ears like the end of the world. But then we run into a problem. Shortly after all of these predictions, Jesus says the following:

“Truly, I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things take place.” (Matthew 24:34)

How can we make sense of this? Is Jesus talking about his second coming at the end of the world or something else?

Two events

In order to understand the discourse, we need to pay attention to the setting. In verses 1-2, the disciples are admiring the temple in Jerusalem and Jesus warns them of its impending destruction. He prophesies that “there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down”.

In response to this, his disciples question him about the timing of the event. They ask him “when will these things be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the close of the age?” (v3). In their minds, the destruction of the temple and the end of the world had to be one event, since the temple stood at the centre of creation as the place where God had made his dwelling amongst humanity.

However, as we see throughout the Gospels, Jesus is the new temple, the place where God now makes his dwelling among us. In him, all of the realities of the old covenant are fulfilled and transformed. So, we can then distinguish the destruction of the temple from the end of the world. Even without an earthly temple, the promise of Jesus to his followers remains true: “And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20).

And so Jesus distinguishes between the two events. In verses 4-34, he focuses on the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple. This culminates in the famous ‘time statement’ of verse 34 that “before this generation passes away”, the preceding events concerning the destruction of the temple would come to pass.

In verse 36 however, Jesus says the following: “But concerning that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only.” Here, Jesus is marking a shift in the discourse. He is no longer addressing the signs preceding the destruction of the temple in the near future, but moves on to discuss the nature of his second coming and the end of the world. We know that this event is in the more distant future since Jesus goes on to describe it in a series of parables using expressions like “delayed” (24:48, 25:5) and after “a long time” (25:19).

Challenging Verses

There are some aspects of the earlier discourse though which on first reading appear difficult to square with a first century fulfilment. Certainly there were wars, famines, earthquakes and a great deal of persecution and false teaching in the early church. But was the gospel really “proclaimed throughout the whole world” (v14)? Was Israel about to experience a period of suffering worse than anything experienced at any other time in history (v21)? And what on earth do we do with the apocalyptic language of verses 29-31?

On the first point of the gospel being proclaimed to the whole world, the New Testament is actually quite clear that this did happen very early on. In Romans 1:6, the Apostle Paul says that the faith shared by the Roman Christians “is proclaimed in all the world”. In Colossians 1:6, Paul teaches that the gospel is bearing fruit “in the whole world”. Even if one takes Paul’s language in those passages as somewhat hyperbolic, there’s no reason the same couldn’t be said of Jesus’ original teaching.

Let’s consider the second point of there being a period of suffering for Israel, a “great tribulation, such as has not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, and never will be” (v21). The destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD was a period of intense suffering for Israel. Not only was the level of violence unprecedented in Israel’s history, but the event culminated in the permanent destruction of the temple – the site of God’s presence and blessing gone forever.

In verse 27 we do encounter a reference to the second coming, but it’s only mentioned in passing to refute the claims of false prophets agitating for a local appearance of Christ on earth. In contrast to this, Jesus assures his disciples that his second coming will be like lightning – that he will appear in the heavens and be visible to all.

Apocalyptic Language

Probably the most challenging section of the discourse to understand in relation to a first century context, at least on first reading, is verses 29-31, a passage loaded with apocalyptic language. In this section, we are first told of the sun, moon and stars being darkened (v29). Then we are told of people mourning as they witness Jesus coming on heavenly clouds (v30). Finally, Jesus sends out his angels with the blast of a trumpet to gather his people together (v31).

To understand what these verses mean, we need to understand the way that Jesus is weaving together various old testament passages. In verse 29, when Jesus speaks about the heavenly bodies being darkened, he’s quoting Isaiah 13:10, a passage which in context is about the destruction of Babylon. The darkening of the heavenly bodies in Isaiah is symbolic language, depicting the destruction of Babylon and its rulers. Jesus is drawing upon this apocalyptic language in his discourse and applying it to the destruction of Jerusalem.

In verse 30, there are two old testament passages in view. First of all, there is the reference to the tribes of the land mourning. This is a subtle allusion to Zechariah 12:10, a passage about Israel mourning her past sins and being restored after the exile. Many translations say “tribes of the earth”, but “tribes of the land” is the more probable meaning on account of the allusion to Zechariah 12, which concerns Israel. Jesus might have in view here the mourning that many Jews across the empire experienced as they witnessed or heard about the destruction of Jerusalem.

Secondly, there is the reference to “the son of man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory”, a quotation of Daniel 7:13. Note the direction of travel in Daniel 7 – the Son of Man is not descending to the earth, he’s ascending to the “Ancient of Days” in heaven (Daniel 7:14). So this isn’t referring to the return of Christ, but to his ascension into heaven. To piece together the logic of verse 30 then: Jerusalem’s destruction is a sign of Jesus’s heavenly glory (“the sign of the son of man in heaven”), many Israelites mourn as they witness Jerusalem’s destruction, but are comforted by a saving knowledge of Christ, the one enthroned in heaven.

Finally, in verse 31, Jesus sends out his angels with a trumpet call and they gather together his elect. This is an allusion to Isaiah 27:13, which teaches that after the exile, a trumpet will be blown and the people of Israel will be regathered back to Jerusalem again. Jesus applies this to the gathering of believing Jews (“the elect”) into the new Jerusalem, the church. In the aftermath of Jerusalem’s destruction, Jesus sends his angels (possibly gospel messengers) to draw Jews across the empire to himself and into his body on earth, the church.

Jerusalem and Jesus

There are two things worth noting about Jesus’s use of the old testament here. First of all, Jesus is evoking a ‘return from exile’ theme. We begin in v29 with an allusion to the destruction of Babylon, the nation which took Israel into exile. We proceed in v30 to an old testament passage from Zechariah concerning the mourning and restoration of the people after the exile. Finally, in v31 there is an allusion to a passage from Isaiah about the people of God being gathered back to Jerusalem from across the world after the exile.

But it’s also worth noting that this ‘return from exile’ theme is applied in a highly ironic way. Jesus uses a passage about a pagan oppressor (Babylon) to talk about Israel as an oppressor nation. He then takes a passage about Israel mourning and being cleansed after the exile and applies it in the context of the permanent destruction of Israel’s temple and cultic system. Finally, Jesus uses a passage about the regathering of the people to Jerusalem after the exile and applies it to Jews across the empire being drawn to a people no longer centred in earthly Jerusalem.

This sort of rhetoric is not unusual for Matthew’s gospel. Elsewhere, he compares first century Israel to pagan oppressors like Egypt (1:13-18) and Sodom (11:23-24). To sum it all up: God’s presence in the midst of humanity is no longer centred in Jerusalem, but is now focused upon a person who is enthroned in heaven. Jesus as the heavenly ‘Son of Man’ is now the one through whom God’s glorious presence is shown forth to the world.

The Seventy Weeks of Daniel 9

“Seventy weeks are decreed about your people and your holy city”

Daniel 9:24

So begins one of the most pivotal ‘end times’ passages in the old testament. From this verse up until the end of the chapter we are given a 490 year (70 times 7) timeline which leads right up to “the end” (v26), Is this the end of the world or the end of something else? And who is the anointed prince spoken of throughout the passage: Christ or the antichrist?

The End of the World?

To understand the “end” that the passage is leading us towards, we have to begin with a list of six blessings which are due to be realized through this time period (v24). They are grouped into two sets of three, the first three concerning the end of “transgression”, “sin” and “iniquity” and the second three concerning the entrance of “everlasting righteousness”, the confirmation of prophecy and the anointing of a “most holy”.

One common view is to see this as the end of the world. When God makes all things new, sin will be done away with forever in place of perfect righteousness, all prophecies will be completely fulfilled and the whole world will be holy to God. This position has a huge problem to deal with though – how does 490 years take you from the time of Daniel (around 500 BC) right up to the end of the world more than 2500 years later (and still counting)?

Two solutions have been proposed to address this issue. The first solution I’ll describe as the “gap view”. Essentially, this view holds that the first “69 sevens” (483 years) takes place as predicted, but then there is a gap of several thousand years until one day the final seven year period (known as “the great tribulation” by proponents of this view) will begin, triggering the final countdown to the end of the world.

A second solution is what I’ll describe as the “symbolic view”. Essentially, on this view the “seventy sevens” are not literal years but a symbolic time period which take us from the time of Daniel to the end of the world. Usually proponents of this view split the final “seven” into two sections, one of which corresponds to the ministry of Christ and the second of which runs from the death of Christ right up until the end of the world.

Christ or Antichrist?

A related question which needs tackling is the identity of the anointed prince mentioned throughout the passage. The first of these views (the gap view) takes the “anointed prince” as a final antichrist figure of sorts who will persecute the righteous. The second view (the symbolic view) sees a sort of dual fulfilment in both Christ and a future antichrist figure just before the end of the world.

I’m just going to cut to the chase. I don’t think this passage is about the end of the world at all. I also don’t think it has anything to do with a final antichrist. I think this passage is all about Jesus – about his fulfilment of the old covenant, his perfect offering for sin. And I think this is instructive for how we should understand biblical prophecy in general.

Consider again those six blessings mentioned in verse 24. Does Jesus in a real and meaningful sense deal with the problem of “transgression”, “sin” and “iniquity”? Absolutely! By his death on the cross he does away with the penalty of sin. Does Jesus bring in an “everlasting righteousness”? Does he confirm and fulfil old testament prophecy? Yes and Amen.

In fact, the last item mentioned “anoint a most holy” is particularly noteworthy. Usually the “most holy” would refer to the “most holy place” in the temple. However, there’s only one thing referred to as “anointed” throughout the passage – the anointed prince. This tells us that the prince corresponds to the temple in some way. Just as God dwelt in the temple, so too will God dwell in this great prince as a sort of new temple. So this cannot be an antichrist figure – it must be none other than the true Messiah, the one indwelt and anointed by God beyond measure.

The End of Jerusalem

What, then, is the “end” the passage has in view? It’s the end of the city and temple. The passage takes us from the rebuilding of the city and temple after the exile right up to their destruction hundreds of years later. Beginning with the decree to rebuild the city under Cyrus or Artaxerxes (commentators disagree about the starting point), the passage takes us right up to the time of Jesus and his baptismal anointing with the Holy Spirit, which begins the final period of seven years, the final “week”.

In this final period of seven years, a “strong covenant” is established by Jesus (the new covenant). About halfway through this period, Jesus would be “cut off and have nothing” (v26) and in doing so would “put an end to sacrifice and offering” (v27). This is referring to his death on the cross, which fulfils the temple and its worship system, making the need for sacrifice null and void by doing away with the penalty of sin once and for all.

Who are “the people of the prince” who “destroy the city and the sanctuary”? I would argue that they are none other than the Jewish people, the “people” spoken of throughout the chapter (eg. v24). Jesus was after all the king of the Jews, the Messiah of Israel. By putting their Messiah to death, the people of Israel brought judgement and destruction upon their city and temple. This would all come to its ultimate fruition 40 years after the resurrection of Christ, when the Roman general Titus Vespasian (“one who makes desolate”) would bring final destruction and desolation upon Jerusalem and its temple.

The New Jerusalem

It’s noteworthy that the end of the seventy sevens culminates around the time of the stoning of Stephen described in the book of Acts. It was at this time that many Christians had to flee from Jerusalem and were scattered across the empire. The passage takes us then from the gathering of Israel to rebuild the city of Jerusalem and its temple right up to the scattering of the people of God and their departure from those old realities. They had no need for the earthly city and temple any more, having found their home in the new and greater “most holy” of God (Christ) and in the “new Jerusalem” (the Church).

And this is what Daniel could take comfort in hundreds of years earlier. Even though he had been promised that Jerusalem and its temple would be rebuilt after the exile, God gave him a far greater hope than that for the future. He could look beyond the restored temple to a “most holy” person who would fulfil all of the realities of the Law and bring God’s presence to humanity in a way never experienced before. He could look beyond the restored city of Jerusalem to a new Jerusalem whose everlasting righteousness would extend to the far corners of the earth.

Does Israel need a King?

There is a story in 1 Samuel 8 of the people of Israel demanding a king from the prophet Samuel. This doesn’t end well for them, and it is sometimes suggested that one of the lessons of the story is that monarchies are bad and we should all be republicans. Whatever one’s opinion of whether we should have a monarchy today, this is a terrible reading of the story which fails to engage with the details of the passage in its ancient context.

Give us a King

The first puzzle we need to solve is this: what’s wrong with Israel’s request for a king? There are lots of reasons to sympathize with their request. For starters, Samuel’s sons who have become judges over Israel have become corrupt, taking bribes and perverting justice (1 Sam 8:3). This is their rationale for desiring a king: “Behold, you are old and your sons do not walk in your ways. Now appoint for us a king to judge us like all the nations.” (1 Sam 8:5)

Some have suggested that perhaps the expression “like all the nations” suggests that they conceived of this king as being too much like the kings of the nations, committing many of the kinds of sins that the kings of other nations committed. The problem with this reading is that the expression “like all the nations” comes directly from Deuteronomy 17:

“When you come to the land that the Lord your God is giving you, and you possess it and dwell in it and then say, ‘I will set a king over me, like all the nations that are around me’, you may indeed set a king over you whom the Lord your God will choose.”

Deuteronomy 17:14-15

The leaders of Israel here then are drawing on a passage of the Law which specifically says that they’re allowed to ask for a king “like all the nations”. What’s more, they go directly to the prophet Samuel who is God’s spokesperson, asking him to choose the king for them instead of doing it themselves. They seem to be following the Law here down to the letter.

The Ark of God

But as we keep reading on in 1 Samuel 8, we discover that something is wrong with their request. God responds “Obey the voice of the people in all that they say to you, for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them” (1 Sam 8:7). Something is wrong with their request, but it’s not with the specific wording of the request itself, which is in perfect compliance with the Law. In what way is their request a rejection of God’s rule over them?

I would suggest that the answer lies in a more specific question: Where is God? We don’t think to ask this sort of question because, as we all know, God is everywhere. But it’s actually a very important question. In a general sense, of course, God is and was everywhere. But in a special sense God was seated upon the ark of the covenant, his throne, which was carried about by his servants and would one day be situated in the heart of the temple, his holy palace.

But at this time in history, the ark of the covenant lacked a permanent home. It was located in a temporary lodging in a place called Kiriath-jearim. When some of the Israelites had tried to approach the ark, God struck them dead (1 Sam 6:19). Lacking a sanctuary, they were unable to approach God in safety. And so the ark was kept out of sight.

In this context then, they were asking for the wrong thing. Instead of asking Samuel for a king, they should have asked for a temple. A place where God could come and reside in their midst, so that they might approach him in safety. After all, God is the true king of Israel – how can it be right to have a human king in a human palace, when God himself lacks a palace to reign in, a place to dwell?

As king David says later on to the prophet Nathan: “See now, I dwell in a house of cedar, but the ark of God dwells in a tent” (2 Sam 7:2). He knows this isn’t right. The Israelites should have known this too. Instead, they effectively rejected God as king over them. They wanted the grandeur of a king reigning over Israel from a grand palace, seated upon a great throne, all while the ark of God resided in a temporary lodging.

The Royal Line

In response to Israel’s wicked request, God curses them with a wicked king: Saul. Some take Samuel’s warnings in 1 Sam 8:10-18 as a general warning against kings. But that’s not what Samuel says. He doesn’t mention “kings” in the plural, but says “These will be the ways of the king who will reign over you” (1 Sam 8:11). He’s not talking about kings in general, but about king Saul in particular.

And it’s pretty clear in the wider context that Saul is an exception. Saul was from the tribe of Benjamin. Here’s what Jacob prophesied about the king who would come from Benjamin’s line: “Benjamin is a ravenous wolf, in the morning devouring the prey and at evening dividing the spoil” (Gen 50:27). It doesn’t sound very encouraging.

And yet, the line of kings after Saul would not come from Benjamin, but beginning with David would trace their lineage back to Judah. Here’s what Jacob prophesied about the royal line stemming from Judah:

“The sceptre shall not depart from Judah,
nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet,
until tribute comes to him;
and to him shall be the obedience of the peoples.”

Genesis 50:10

God’s ultimate plan was always for the kings of Israel to stem from Judah’s line. And here we have a wonderful promise that one day a king would come from that line who would be worshipped by all the peoples of the earth. This glorious messianic hope was fulfilled in Jesus, the descendant of David, the saviour of the world.

The Tower of Babel

I recently got a new bible and started my way through Genesis again. An early episode which has really struck me is the story of the Tower of Babel. A common understanding of the story is to view it as providing the origin of the many languages we have in the world today. Contrary to this is the more modern view that different languages arise naturally in the same way that different customs develop in different places. I’d argue that in the wider context of Genesis the bible is actually consistent with the modern view and that this story in Genesis is the exception which proves the rule.

Be Fruitful and Multiply

The context of the Babel incident is God’s covenant with Noah in Genesis 9. The central commandment God gives to Noah is to “be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth” (Gen 9:1). Genesis 10 then picks up on this thread and shows us its fulfilment. We see lists of the various descendants of Noah’s three sons and the places where they migrated to.

One interesting factor worth noting is the refrain at the end of each list, for instance: “These are the sons of Ham, by their clans, their languages, their lands, and their nations” (Gen 10:20, see also v5, v31). Genesis 10 seems to assume then that as each clan migrated to a different place, they developed their own distinctive languages over time. This is mentioned in passing as if it were just a natural development as the people spread out across the world.

This raises a question though. What do we do with Genesis 11 and the Tower of Babel story, which appears on first reading to give us a completely different origin story for the many languages spoken in the world? As the final verse of the story concludes: “Therefore its name was called Babel, because there the Lord confused the language of all the earth. And from there the Lord dispersed them over the face of all the earth.” (Gen 11:9)

Cursed be Canaan

To understand what’s going on in Genesis 11, we need to know which specific group of people we’re dealing with. And the background to this is later on in Genesis 9. We learn that after the flood, Noah built a vineyard and drank some wine (Gen 9:20). Given that the flood had lasted around a year, it would probably have been quite some time since Noah had last drunk wine, and so he became intoxicated and laid down naked in his tent (v21).

One of his three sons, Ham, “saw the nakedness of his father” (v22) and went to tell his two brothers. Upon hearing this, the brothers took a garment and covered up their father, facing away from him so that they don’t “see their father’s nakedness” (v23). When Noah woke up, he “knew what his youngest son had done to him” (v24) and pronounced a curse: “Cursed be Canaan; a servant of servants shall he be to his brothers.” (v25)

This story raises a lot of questions. What does the idiomatic expression “saw the nakedness of his father” mean? What exactly is Noah discovering when he wakes up? Why does Noah curse Canaan (one of Ham’s sons), rather than cursing Ham directly?

I won’t pretend to have the answers to all of these questions. But I think we can get close to an answer by noting the contrast with what Ham’s brothers do. They cover up their father and they look away from his naked body, an obvious mark of respect and honour. I suspect, then, that the very least we can say is this: when Ham saw his father in a vulnerable position, he probably intended to manipulate the situation in some way to his advantage. Given that his son Canaan is singled out in the curse, we can surmise that it involved obtaining some kind of privilege for his son.

We see throughout Genesis that there is this special firstborn blessing which passes down from father to son, which confers a form of divine authority. A famous example of this would be in Genesis 27 where Jacob tricks his father Isaac into blessing him in place of Esau. It seems likely then that instead of leaving it to Noah to decide how the blessing would pass down from generation to generation, Ham tried to seize it for his son Canaan. This explains the curse upon Canaan, that instead of being blessed he would be cursed with becoming a servant to the rest of Noah’s descendants.

Confused and Dispersed

How does all of this relate to the Tower of Babel story in Genesis 11? The people spoken of in this chapter are the descendants of Canaan. They know that God has cursed them and made them subservient to the rest of Noah’s descendants. In defiance against this, they seek to make a name for themselves. They build a great tower, an idolatrous structure which reaches up to the heavens as a kind of temple by which the gods can come down to earth.

Now it goes without saying that the human race would have spoken the same language for a period of time. Noah and his family would have shared a language in common and this early language is referred to in Genesis as “the language of all the earth” (Gen 11:9). As people spread out over the face of the earth, this single language would have developed over time into many different languages. But this story takes place early on, and so these descendants of Canaan still share this single language.

When God sees their idolatrous worship though, he curses them by confusing their language. For one specific people group in one specific place, God intervenes early and confuses “the language of all the earth” for them (Gen 11:9). This account then isn’t an origin story for the various languages spoken in the world – it’s a confusion applied specifically to the descendants of Canaan, in fulfilment of the curse in Genesis 9.

How do we know for sure that the people spoken of here are the descendants of Canaan? We know this because of a specific expression used in the passage: “The Lord dispersed them over the face of the whole earth” (Gen 11:4). If we go back to Genesis 10, there is only one people group who are described as being “dispersed” – the descendants of Canaan (Gen 10:18). So we see then that the story of the Tower of Babel picks up this thread and explains how it is that they became dispersed across the face of the earth.

Blessing in the Name

Recently, we’ve been celebrating Pentecost Sunday. This is a time when we remember and celebrate when the Holy Spirit was poured out upon the apostles and they spoke in many languages (Acts 2). Sometimes people speak of this as “a reversal of Babel”, that instead of multiplying languages to produce confusion, God multiplies languages to unite people under the Gospel.

In the context of Genesis, this makes a lot of sense. The descendants of Canaan sought to “make a name for” themselves (Gen 11:4) and so God cursed them. But a chapter later, we encounter Abraham, a descendant of Shem, and God says the reverse to him: “I will bless you and make your name great” (Gen 12:2). God chooses whose name he will exalt, and those who wish to be blessed need to submit to the blessed one: “I will bless those who bless you… and in you all the families of the earth will be blessed” (Gen 12:3). Unity and purpose can only truly be found in the one blessed by God.

On the day of Pentecost, this blessing came to its full fruition in Christ. Peter calls those in attendance to “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:38). True blessing comes when instead of making a name for ourselves, we submit to the name of the blessed one, the true Son of Abraham: Jesus. In him the families of the earth, with all of their different languages, are united into a single family by the Holy Spirit.

Hiatus

A shout out to the people who have been following my blog for the last three and a half years. I’m going to be taking a break from the blog.

From the start of 2019 I made it my aim to post at least once per month and I’ve consistently stuck to that aim. Whilst sticking to a broadly theological theme throughout, I’ve occasionally ventured off into discussing other cultural and political issues as well. It’s been a lot of fun and it’s helped me to refine my thinking, which is why I started the blog in the first place.

Truth be told, I’ve been struggling with the motivation to write in the last year or so. In the past I’ve often had an article or two ready in draft before the self-inflicted monthly deadline arose. In recent times, it’s been more of a last minute rush to get something written up.

I may return to the blog again at some future point. But for now, I’m going to take an indefinite break – call it a sabbath – from blogging. I’ll leave you with a couple of verses from the book of Hebrews.

“So then, there remains a sabbath rest for the people of God, for whoever has entered God’s rest has also rested from his works as God did from his.” (Hebrews 4:9-10)

Reflections on Leviticus 10

Over the last few months, I have been sharing some brief reflections on the book of Leviticus. This is a reflection on the tenth chapter.

“Then Moses said to Aaron, “This is what the Lord has said, ‘Among those who are with me I will be sanctified, and before all the people I will be glorified.’””

Leviticus 10:3

Samuel the prophet had passed away and all the mediums had been expelled from the land of Israel. So, when the Philistines declared war on Israel, king Saul had no-one to turn to. God refused to hear his pleas because he was still intent on killing David. Instead of repenting, Saul disguised himself in a cloak and went to visit a witch who lived in Endor. He asked her to bring back the prophet Samuel, that he might bring him favour from the Lord in battle. But when she summoned Samuel, he was not happy about it. He exclaimed, “Why have you disturbed me by bringing me back?” (1 Samuel 28:15). And even though Saul begged him for advice on what to do, on how to win the battle ahead, Samuel instead assured him that Israel would lose the battle and that both himself and his sons would die the following day.

God had been very clear to Israel that he hated idolatry, that false worship would never be acceptable to him. Visiting witches and mediums was utterly forbidden in Israel and in the case of Saul, it was the icing on the cake which led to his destruction. The same was the case in the days of Aaron. When his sons Nadab and Abihu offered their own fire on the altar instead of waiting for the Lord’s fire to come down (as we saw in the previous chapter), they were both instantly struck down by God, literally consumed by his fire.

God himself establishes worship and he teaches us how it is to be conducted. True worship begins with a holy reverence of God. As the author of the letter to the Hebrews put it: “let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire.” (Hebrews 12:28b-29) In worship, we must be concerned first and foremost with what pleases the Lord, and not with our own preferences. In this way, we will ensure that everything we do is for the glory of God.