What Is the Kingdom of God? (Part 1)

Sometime around AD 30 a Jewish peasant named Jesus (Yeshua in his native Aramaic) began preaching a revolutionary message about the “kingdom of God.” This preaching kicked off his public ministry of healing, exorcisms, and teaching, including clashes with the authorities—ultimately leading to his death and resurrection.

 This kingdom that Jesus proclaimed was rooted in ancient Jewish expectations of God’s direct rule as an alternative to the dominant Roman empire, which controlled the land of Israel by force and oppressed its people; but this kingdom was also meant to be an alternative to the reign of the corrupt puppet “king of the Jews” (at the time, Herod Agrippa), who governed at the pleasure—and under the authority—of the Roman empire.

Jesus’s Opening Proclamation of the Kingdom of God

The Gospel of Mark tells us that Jesus came from his home town of Nazareth in the northern province of Galilee to the Jordan River, where he was baptized by his cousin John and confirmed as God’s “son” (a messianic title) by a voice from heaven (Mark 1:4–11). Jesus was then led by God’s Spirit into the Judean wilderness for a time of fasting and testing in preparation for his mission (Mark 1:12–13). Then, after John was arrested by the Judean authorities, Jesus came into Galilee proclaiming the good news (or “gospel”) of God (Mark 1:14). His announcement was terse and to the point: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and trust in the good news” (Mark 1:15).

God, in other words, has begun to reign in a way not previously seen. In response to this good news, radical change is required (this is what “repent” means) and trust (the positive side of repentance) is called for. The implication is that Jesus’s listeners needed to switch allegiance from all other regimes to the kingdom of God.

Matthew’s Gospel has an even more compact version of Jesus’s opening message: “From that time, Jesus began to proclaim, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near’” (Matthew 4:17). Matthew uses the phrase “kingdom of heaven” (which alludes to God’s universal reign—from heaven—over all the earth) in place of “kingdom of God” (something he does in other places too), while using “repent” as a shorthand for the pair “repent” and “trust.” He also introduces Jesus’s announcement by noting that this fulfilled an ancient prophetic expectation from Isaiah 9 that a light would dawn on the people of Galilee, who had been waiting in the darkness of oppression (Matthew 4:12–16, citing Isaiah 9:1–2).

The Problem of Monarchy/Kingdom

The “kingdom of God” is central to the teaching of Jesus; this term (or variants, including “kingdom of heaven,” “my kingdom,” “his kingdom,” “the kingdom,” “my Father’s kingdom”) occurs over one hundred times in the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke). Yet this talk of a “kingdom” of God is often troubling to modern people. Isn’t the very idea of “kingdom” an oppressive idea? Apart from the gender-specific nature of the term, perhaps enshrining male dominance, we are aware of the abuses of various monarchies throughout human history. Indeed, “kingdom” merges too easily into “empire,” a top-down system of oppression and injustice, which needs to be resisted rather than celebrated.

In order to grasp the significance of the kingdom of God in the preaching of Jesus (and, more generally, in the Bible), we need to take seriously the ancient historical context in which Jesus and the biblical writers lived. Not only were monarchies the dominant form of political governance, but they were typically oppressive regimes, ruled by kings, emperors, or their deputies (called governors or a host of other terms) who typically guarded their own privilege, at the expense of the masses over whom they ruled. The point is that political systems of the ancient world were generally oppressive kingdoms. So what was required to challenge the abusive use of power was an alternative kingdom—one that operated on significantly different principles

A Reversal of Power Dynamics

Once, when some of Jesus’s disciples expressed their desire for places of privilege in the coming kingdom (Mark 10:35–37), Jesus called them all together and explained that a reversal of typical power roles was required: “You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all.” (Mark 10:42–44) And he went on describe his own mission as follows: “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45).

So there will be a reversal of power dynamics in the kingdom of God. But beyond that, what did Jesus mean by this term?

This is the first installment of a longer piece I am writing on the Kingdom of God for a volume of essays introducing Christianity to a broad, international audience (to be published by Routledge). The second installment can be found here. Stay tuned for more installments.

Will the Creation “Pass Away” When Christ Returns?

Revelation 21 opens with an amazing vision of “a new heaven and a new earth.”

Since the Bible begins with the affirmation that God created the cosmos, consisting precisely of heaven and earth (Genesis 1:1), Revelation 21 proclaims nothing less than a new creation.

But in what sense will this creation be new?

The question is forced upon us because of the end of the verse that proclaims a new creation: “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away” (Revelation 21:1).

What does “passed away” mean? Does this imply the obliteration of the original creation and its replacement with something brand new?

Jesus actually said something similar about the passing away of the cosmos in the Olivet discourse.

After instructing his disciples about a series of signs that will precede the coming of the Son of Man, Jesus states: “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away” (Matthew 24:35; also Mark 13:31 and Luke 21:33).

Is this simply a hypothetical statement, to the effect that even if heaven and earth were to pass away, Jesus’s words (his predictions of the coming signs) are sure and trustworthy? Let’s not take the easy way out; let’s assume that he meant what he said.

A surface reading of both Jesus’s words and Revelation 21 suggests that the world as we know it will be gone, to be superseded by a new cosmos. The question is in what sense will the old world “pass away”?

Will God will first destroy creation (heaven and earth) and then create a replacement?

Or is this a reference to some form of transformation that will occur?

The Greek words for “pass away” are slightly different in Revelation 21 and the Olivet discourse. In Revelation 21 it is aperchomai, while in the Olivet discourse it is parerchomai. That’s basically the same verb, but with different prefixes—the prefixes par- and ap-. They don’t indicate any significant difference in meaning.

If we want to really understand what these texts mean by creation passing away, we might turn to Paul’s description of conversion as “new creation” in 2 Corinthians 5:17.

What follows is a literal translation: “If anyone is in Christ—new creation! The old things have passed away; behold, new ones have come!”

Here Paul uses the verb parerchomai (the same verb found in the Olivet discourse) for the ending of the old life, which is then replaced by a new life in Christ.

Are we to think that Paul thinks the passing away of the old life is equivalent to the obliteration of the person, who is then replaced by a doppelganger? Paul’s own writings, not to mention common sense, suggests that no matter how radical the shift required for conversion to Christ, this describes the transformation, not obliteration, of the person.

So, by analogy then, the passing away of the present heaven and earth to make way for the new creation is also transformative. It’s not a matter of destruction followed by replacement.

That’s why God says, “Behold, I am making all things new” (Revelation 21:5)—not “I am making all new things.”

Whether it is the “new creation” of persons who are in Christ or the “new heavens and new earth” promised in Revelation 21, the point is that salvation consists in the rescue and transformation of this amazing world that God so loves (John 3:16).

That’s the consistent emphasis of biblical eschatology.

For more on this topic, see my book A New Heaven and a New Earth: Reclaiming Biblical Eschatology (Baker Academic, 2014), or you can watch my video course on “Biblical Eschatology” at Seminary Now.

Here is an outline of the video course:

1. What Is Biblical Eschatology?

2. The Renewal of All Things

3. Creation is Our Home

4. The Cosmic Temple

5. Humanity as the Image of God

6. Massive Fail—And Restart with Israel

7. Exile and the Hope of God’s Return

8. Jesus and the Coming of the Spirit

9. The Church in the Power of the Spirit

10. God’s Presence on the New Earth

11. What About the Rapture?

12. Epilogue

Our Postmodern Moment: “Truth Is Stranger than It Used to Be” 28 Years Later

Over the past decade, a number of people have commented that the book Brian Walsh and I wrote addressing the postmodern situation, Truth Is Stranger Than It Used to Be: Biblical Faith in a Postmodern Age (IVP, 1995), seemed to be written for our twenty-first century context since it spoke directly to issues current in Western (and especially, North American) culture. (As a person from the Majority World, I would say that these issues are actually global.)

One of the comments about the book’s relevance came from Chris Stratton, the editor of an online journal for United Methodist pastors and theological students called Catalyst. Chris had recently reread the book and wondered if I would write an online article reflecting on the analysis from nearly thirty years ago, exploring its significance for our contemporary situation of tribalism and toxic polarization. He suggested the title “Our Postmodern Moment.”

Chris originally asked me in 2021, but I was too busy with other writing projects and deferred the article until Spring 2023. I say “article,” but it turned out that I needed to write three articles! Or, more accurately, a three-part article.

I retained Chris’s suggestion of “Our Postmodern Moment” as the overall title and gave the three parts descriptive subtitles. PDFs of each part may be downloaded below (the original links to Catalyst are no longer active).

1. Our Postmodern Moment, Part 1: Diagnosing the Problem

Part 1 revisits the analysis of the postmodern condition that Brian Walsh and I proposed, while fleshing it out in line with how I have been teaching these matters over the years (as part of graduate and undergraduate courses on a Christian worldview).

2. Our Postmodern Moment, Part 2: The Biblical Metanarrative

Part 2 explores some of the resources of Scripture for our current context in terms of how God relates to human subjectivity, agency, and disorientation (drawing on cues I have noticed in the biblical narrative through from my research and teaching over the years).

3. Our Postmodern Moment, Part 3: Christian Discipleship in a Polarized World

Part 3 was the most difficult to write, since I wanted to give practical guidance on how to live out the Christian faith in a toxic culture, which has often infiltrated the church. It is especially addressed to pastors and other church leaders.

Three Umpires

In Part 1 of the article I retell the story (quoted in Truth Is Stranger than It Used to Be) about three umpires explaining how they judge baseball games.

Three umpires were having a beer after a baseball game. One said: “There’s balls and there’s strikes and I call ’em the way they are.” The next umpire replied: “There’s balls and there’s strikes and I call ’em the way I see ’em.” The third umpire said: “There’s balls and there’s strikes and they ain’t nothin’ until I call ’em.”

This story, originally meant to be a joke, quite seriously illustrates different approaches to “truth” in our world today; it is particularly relevant to our so-called “post-truth” culture.

Parts 2 and 3 of the article return to this story to clarify the paradox of how Christians can legitimately claim a normative position (the truth is out there), while recognizing our ineradicably subjectivity (we only approach the truth through our perspectives). This paradox has implications both for how we read the Bible and for we relate to our neighbors with whom we may disagree radically.

I would be very interested in hearing responses from readers.