What Did Jesus Mean by the Kingdom of God? (The Kingdom of God, part 2)

In my last post, I addressed the reversal of power dynamics in the kingdom of God that Jesus proclaimed. But beyond that, what did Jesus mean by this term?

The Nazareth Manifesto

Here we are helped by Luke’s Gospel, which does not use the term “kingdom of God” in Jesus’s opening message. Along with Matthew and Mark (the other Synoptic Gospels), Luke tells us about Jesus’s baptism by John (Matthew 3:13–17; Mark 1:9–11; Luke 3:21–22), followed by his temptation in the wilderness (Matthew 4: 1–11; Mark 1:12–13; Luke 4:1–13). Then all three Gospel writers note that Jesus returns to Galilee and begins his preaching (Matthew 4:12–16; Mark 1:14; Luke 4: 14–15).

But whereas in Matthew and Mark, Jesus announces the coming of the kingdom in a short, succinct statement (Matthew 4:17; Mark 1:15), Luke has an extended account of a synagogue message that Jesus delivered in Nazareth, his hometown (Luke 4:16–30), without, however, any explicit mention of the kingdom.

Yet we know that Jesus was expounding on the nature of the kingdom in Luke’s account, since a bit later Luke notes that after Nazareth, Jesus moved on to Capernaum, another town in Galilee. And when he was about to leave Galilee to continue his mission in the province of Judea, Jesus explained: “I must proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God to the other cities also; for I was sent for this purpose” (Luke 4:43). In other words, Luke’s account of Jesus’s sermon in Nazareth is an example of his preaching about the kingdom of God.

It is likely that Luke gives us this more extended example of Jesus’s preaching instead of the succinct summary about the “kingdom” found in Matthew and Mark because he wanted to clarify the nature of the kingdom of God (a distinctively Jewish concept) to non-Jewish readers. Luke addressed his Gospel to “most excellent Theophilus,” who may have been a high-ranking gentile (Luke 1:1–4).

The way Jesus unpacks the nature of the kingdom in Luke 4, then, is particularly helpful for us—living in the twenty-first century—in cultures very different from first-century Galilee.

After his testing in the wilderness, Jesus began teaching in the synagogues of Galilee (Luke 4:14–15). When he arrived in his hometown, Nazareth, he attended the synagogue on the Sabbath day, as was his custom (Luke 4:16). He stood up to read the Scripture and was handed the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. He opened the scroll to Isaiah 61 and read these words:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
       because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives,
       and recovery of sight to the blind,
       to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. (Luke 4:18–19)

Quoting Isaiah

The Scripture Luke quotes Jesus reading is Isaiah 61:1 and part of verse 2, with a line inserted from Isaiah 58:6 (“to let the oppressed go free”). In their original context, both Isaiah 61 and 58 were addressed to those Jews who had returned to their ancestral land, after having experienced exile in Babylon. Following a devastating series of attacks by the Babylonian empire in the late sixth century, which killed many Jews and destroyed the city of Jerusalem—along with the temple, the center of Jewish religious life—the Babylonians took a portion of the remaining population into exile, relocating them in the center of the empire.

Now, after a hiatus of nearly seventy years, as a result of a regime change (Babylon was conquered by the Persians), some Jews had returned to their homeland. Yet their society was still in shambles, characterized by internal injustice and oppression. Speaking in a post-exilic context, to those who had returned to the land, the prophet announced the “good news” of a new era (“the year of the Lord’s favor”) when God will act decisively on behalf of the poor, releasing captives, restoring sight to those who are blind, and setting the oppressed free.

Why does Jesus draw on this passage? And what did he mean by these phrases: “good news to the poor,” “release to the captives,” “recovery of sight to the blind” and “to let the oppressed go free”? In what way do these actions signify “the year of the Lord’s favor”? And how do they clarify the nature of the kingdom of God, which is being fulfilled in Jesus’ ministry?

The Problem of Spiritualizing Jesus’s Message

It has been very common for Christians through the ages to spiritualize Jesus’s Nazareth sermon, reducing the message to one of freeing people from internal captivity (bondage to sin) and spiritual blindness. Even the term “poor” in “good news to the poor” has been understood to mean those who were “poor in spirit” (aware of their “spiritual” needs).

Now, Jesus certainly did bring internal restoration (the forgiveness of sins) and a fundamental reorientation of values; this is clear from his call to repentance—radical change is required to be aligned with God’s kingdom. But to reduce Jesus’s message at Nazareth (or the meaning of God’s kingdom) solely to something internal is to misread his words in terms of an unbiblical value distinction of sacred/secular, spiritual/physical, or personal/social.

This framework, derived from later Christian tradition, which downplays outward action and the importance of social realities in relation to the importance of the inner person (the “soul”), is often imposed on the text from the outside. But no-one in Jesus’s day would have understood his words in this sense.

This spiritualizing interpretation is blown out of the water by the phrase “to let the oppressed go free,” which is taken from a prophetic passage in Isaiah 58:1–14. Here the prophet pointedly challenges landowners and others with power who exploit their workers (which included withholding their wages); yet these powerful people attend religious ceremonies and perform religious rituals (like fasting), while continuing to act unjustly towards others (their religious rituals even end, the prophet says, in quarreling and fighting).

Biblical Spirituality and Justice

This passage is one of many in the Old Testament that critique those who attempt to practice a form of religion (or spirituality) that is contradicted by their actual way of life. By contrast, Isaiah 58 describes the form of spirituality that pleases God.

Is not this the kind of “fasting” I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
      and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
      and break every yoke?

Is it not to share your food with the hungry
      and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe them,
      and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
(Isaiah 58:6–7)

These are concrete actions to remedy social injustice, which involve meeting the real needs of actual people. Isaiah 58 goes on to promise that if the people fulfill God’s requirements for justice with their neighbors, then the social order will be healed:

Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;
      you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
you shall be called the repairer of the breach,
      the restorer of streets to live in. (Isaiah 58:12)

A similar statement is found in Isaiah 61, just two verses after the section Jesus quotes: 

They shall build up the ancient ruins,
      they shall raise up the former devastations;
They shall repair the ruined cities,
      the devastations of many generations. (Isaiah 61:4)

It makes sense that Jesus (or Luke) connected Isaiah 61 and 58; both have to do with social renewal in postexilic Judah. So the insertion of Isaiah 58:6 at the end of Isaiah 61:1 further affirms the this-worldly nature of the kingdom Jesus was proclaiming.

Both Isaiah 61 and 58 were addressed to the dysfunctional social reality of post-exilic Israel and envision a new social order in which justice would be restored. Jesus draws on this message in his Nazareth sermon, applying it his own day, since centuries later Israel was still in a similar situation. Beyond Roman oppression, Jewish society was full of political jockeying and economic inequalities. But Jesus announced that things are about to change—the kingdom of God is coming! This kingdom refers, most fundamentally, to a world conformed to God’s standards, where that which is broken is healed and society is ordered according to God’s priorities of justice, generosity, and love.

But where did this idea of the kingdom of God come from? What are its roots, its origin?

That’s the topic for the next post.

This is the second 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). Part 3 may be found here.

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

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.

Psalm 51 as a Critique of David—An Intertextual Reading with 2 Samuel 12

Three weeks ago I posted about some of my essays that had just been published. One of these was an essay entitled: “A Psalm against David? A Canonical Reading of Psalm 51 as a Critique of David’s Inadequate Repentance in 2 Samuel 12.”

It is published as chapter 2 in Explorations in Interdisciplinary Reading: Theological, Exegetical, and Reception-Historical Perspectives, ed. by Robbie F. Castleman, Darian R. Lockett, and Stephen O. Presley (Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2017), 26–45.

At the time I didn’t have a copy of the published essay to post.

The essay is now ready, and may be downloaded here, for those who are interested.

Below is an explanation of what I was trying to accomplish in the essay, adapted from my previous posts on the subject (including one I wrote when I was about to present it at a conference).

The Argument of the Essay

I’ve always prized Psalm 51 as an amazing articulation of the meaning of repentance; and it is a favorite and valued psalm for many Christians.

Although the superscription links it to David’s confrontation by the prophet Nathan in 2 Samuel 12 over his adultery with Bathsheba, I had the sense that the traditional reading of this psalm as David’s prayer of confession did not fit the actual story in 2 Samuel. This came from teaching both the psalm and the Samuel narrative over many years (in different courses).

I therefore decided to read Psalm 51 carefully in light of the narrative of David’s sin and confession to see what I could come up with.

Since psalms superscriptions are not original to the psalms, but inserted by later editors (I give evidence for this in the essay), I propose that we take the superscription to Psalm 51 as a (divinely inspired) lectionary suggestion for reading the psalm together with the 2 Samuel narrative.

The result of doing this, I argue, is that the psalm ends up functioning as a critique of David’s superficial “repentance” in 2 Samuel 12.

My essay, therefore, challenges the naive, idealistic reading of the figure of David often found in the evangelical church (but then anyone who reads 1-2 Samuel with their eyes open would be disabused of this ideal picture anyway).

The essay is, most fundamentally, my attempt to take the authority of Scripture seriously (regarding both Psalm 51 and 2 Samuel 12 as divinely inspired), with eyes wide open to the complexity of this divinely inspired Scripture, asking what the implications might be for Christians reading these texts.

Happy reading!