Kingdom of God – Page 2 – Practical Theology Today

The Parable of the Servant King

As I read through the Gospels this past month, I was repeatedly struck by the image of Jesus as a servant. After reading John 13, I began to realize that Jesus is not only a Benevolent King, but a Servant King. So I had ChatGPT review The Parable of the Benevolent King and offer a “Servant King” version of the parable. For what it’s worth, this is what ChatGPT created…

The Parable of the Servant King and the Kingdom of Merea

Long ago, nestled between green hills and silver streams, there was a kingdom unlike any other. It bore no grand name, yet its people called it Merea, meaning “beloved dwelling.” It had no towering walls, no boastful banners, and no gleaming thrones—but it had a king.

His name was Elandir, though few addressed him by it. To most, he was simply the Servant King.

He wore no crown, save the sun-weathered hood of his traveling cloak. He carried no scepter, only a staff worn smooth from walking with the people. He lived not in a distant palace, but in a modest home at the heart of the village square, where he could be seen each day mending fences, helping mothers lift heavy buckets, or kneeling beside the sick.

Though he could command legions, he chose instead to lead by invitation, not by force. His strength was in his nearness.

The People of the Kingdom

In Merea, everyone had a place, and everyone had a part to play—not out of obligation, but out of gratitude. The king’s way inspired imitation.

The Stone-Menders fixed broken pathways, not for praise, but to ensure the elderly didn’t stumble. The Bread-Makers baked before dawn, leaving warm loaves on the doorsteps of those in need. The Fire-Keepers walked the streets on cold nights, carrying embers to reignite the hearths of the poor.

There were Listeners whose task was to visit the lonely, to sit, nod, and remind the forgotten they were seen. There were Messengers, not to carry royal edicts, but to deliver encouragement, celebrate births, and mourn losses with the grieving. Even the Children had their ministry—they brought laughter, drew chalk flowers on the town square, and reminded the old how to dance.

The Servant King gave no titles. He said that the most honored were those least noticed.

Each day he would rise before the sun and walk the length of the town, checking on the sick, delivering water, patching roofs, and praying quietly for his people. And when asked why he did such menial tasks, he would smile and say, “Because love kneels.”

Why So Many Came

The stories of Merea spread like spring wind. In lands where kings rode stallions and ruled with iron fists, the idea of a ruler who served seemed like a tale for children. Yet as the tales persisted, people began to wonder: Could such a place exist?

Travelers came—some limping, others tired of being used, many carrying wounds too deep to name. They expected gates, guards, and bureaucracy. Instead, they found the king himself waiting at the edge of the road with a cup of water and a question: “Would you like to come home?”

They stayed, not because of riches or promises, but because they were seen, known, and loved. Here, they weren’t asked what they could produce—but who they were becoming. In a world driven by status and achievement, Merea whispered a different word: belonging.

Those Who Chose to Leave

Yet not all who arrived stayed. Some grew frustrated at the Servant King’s ways. They wanted to climb ladders, not wash feet. They asked, “Why does no one rise above the rest here?” And the king, with gentleness, would reply, “Because we rise together.”

But for those who equated worth with control, it was not enough.

A few grew discontented with the slow pace of mercy. They wanted results, not relationship—efficiency, not empathy. They said, “This kingdom is too soft, too slow, too kind.” And the king, though grieved, did not chain them. He only walked with them to the edge of the kingdom and said, “Should you wish to return, the door will always remain open.”

Others left quietly—not out of anger, but from fear. The love they found in Merea felt too complete, too undeserved. They whispered, “I’m not worthy.” And though the king assured them, “None are, that’s why love bends low,” some still turned away, unable to receive what could not be earned.

A Kingdom That Keeps Giving

Yet the Servant King did not despair. He kept sowing seeds, bandaging wounds, listening to stories, and setting tables. The kingdom did not grow by conquest, but by kindness. It expanded not in borders, but in beauty.

Children raised in Merea grew up with strong hands and soft hearts. The old passed their wisdom to the young, and no one was left behind. Festivals were thrown, not for profit, but to celebrate life together. And in every corner of the land, the fragrance of compassion lingered.

And still, the Servant King walks the roads. Some say he’s grown older. Others say he’s only grown deeper—his eyes full of both sorrow and joy. He still waits by the gates each morning, lantern in hand, ready to welcome the next weary traveler who dares to believe that greatness might be found in kneeling love.

I Almost Bought the Farm

Quite literally! Growing up, I loved farming – despite the inherent challenges of dairy farming in the ’50s and ’60s. We didn’t have much. I remember some bleak Christmases. We only made the 3-mile trip into town if it was absolutely necessary. Dairy farming is a 365-day-a-year commitment, so youth sports and weekend getaways were out of the question. Still, I wouldn’t have traded that upbringing for anything.

But I did – I went to college to be an engineer.

After a couple of years of college, I found myself unsure of what I really wanted to do with my life. I struggled in college. My grades were probably an indicator of my uncertainty. So I dropped out for a time, choosing to work for the local company that had hired me to work in their drafting department as a junior in high school. I had employment as long as I was in school, so I continued taking one or two evening engineering courses per semester at the University of Minnesota. Evening classes in the ’70s required an in-person commute, unlike online school today.

While working and commuting to the U, a dairy farm near my home became available for purchase. Because of my uncertainty about life, I decided to consider the possibility of buying the farm and becoming a dairy farmer. A high school classmate of mine was the realtor. We had many discussions as to how I might be able to purchase the farm. I was excited about the possibilities of becoming a landowner.

I almost bought that farm. I suppose I forgot how relentless dairy farming is. But when our future feels uncertain, we often retreat to what we know best. I wonder if that’s what happened with the Israelites in the wilderness when they formed the golden calf. Moses, their leader and the voice of Yahweh, had vanished up the mountain. Their future looked uncertain. So they defaulted to what was familiar: a tangible god, something they could control.

In time – forty years’ time – they learned to trust God. They followed Him through the desert, being shaped into a people ready to live in the land He had promised. That land wasn’t just a gift, but a launch point – a base from which they would fulfill their calling to be God’s covenant people, a blessing to the world. As kingdom people, they would participate in His redemption project – new creation and an “on earth as in heaven” type restoration.

But their desert journey came with hard lessons. The biggest one? God is sovereign. They were not. Yielding to His rule brought life. Resisting brought the opposite.

Eventually, they were ready. Joshua led them across the Jordan into Canaan. The land was apportioned according to their tribal lines – though the tribes of Reuben, Gad, and half of Manasseh chose to settle east of the river.

Before they entered, Yahweh made it abundantly clear how they were to live together in the land under his Kingship. This was the point of the Torah: for God to be their God, and they His people (cf. Exodus 6:6-7, Leviticus 25:38, Deuteronomy 29:13, Jeremiah 7:23, etc).

Theologically, we know this as the Covenant Formula*

As Creator, the land belonged to Him. “The land must not be sold permanently, because the land is mine and you reside in my land as foreigners and strangers (…)” (Leviticus 25:23-25). They were guests – stewards, not owners.

They were there at His pleasure, so to speak.

As landlord, God gave them instructions on how to treat the land and each other. Every seven years, the land was to rest. This not only rejuvenated the soil but also gave farmers, servants, and animals a Sabbath. This same principle was instituted by the United States Soil Conservation Service to combat the propensity for things like the Dust Bowl. We did something similar when I farmed, fallowing about one-seventh of our land each year. Good husbandry.

God also instituted the Year of the Jubilee. Every 50 years, property returned to its original family, debts were forgiven, and slaves were released. A full reset. A radical vision of liberty and justice.

But as far as we know, the Jubilee was never observed.

For a long time, I struggled with the fairness of Jubilee. But once I grasped that the land never truly belonged to them – it was God’s – the whole concept made sense. He was King. He owned everything. The people were simply stewards.

Somewhere along the way, they lost sight of that. Sometimes I wonder if we have too. God is still King. He still owns everything. We are still stewards – of our resources, our relationships, our work, even our time.

What would it look like if we lived more like that were true?

* A key element of the Covenant Formula is the people’s relationship with God and with each other. Jesus recapped the Formula with his infamous “Love God, love others” command (see Deuteronomy 6:4-5 and Leviticus 19:18).

Long Live the King!

“Long live the King!” is a phrase rich with historical significance, symbolizing loyalty, continuity, and the enduring nature of monarchy. Its roots appear to trace back to 15th-century France in the declaration “Le roi est mort, vive le roi!”. “The King is dead, long live the King!” is a proclamation that marked both the death of a reigning monarch and the immediate succession of the next. Over time, the phrase found its place in English tradition and thus, “Long live the Queen!” The king (or queen) was kinda a big deal, I guess.

Recent blog posts have responded to the elusive and lingering question, “What is the Kingdom of God that was central to Jesus’ gospel message?” Why is it so hard for us to wrap our heads around and understand? We have slowly been working through scripture in an attempt to get a 30,000-foot view of God’s activity related to his kingdom and his subjects, starting with Almost Getting It back in November 2024.

Over the past months, I have had many conversations with people who, like me, have come to the realization that Jesus’ primary message was indeed about the Kingdom of God, but with the lingering question of what the kingdom actually is. As mentioned previously, I’ve been wrestling with the question for several decades. Part of this blog journey is my own attempts to articulate what the kingdom is (and what it is not, by the way).

For the last couple of months, I’ve begun to wonder if we have been asking the wrong question. We want to know what the kingdom itself is. I don’t know if it’s a Western thing or a human thing, but I suspect tunnel vision results in asking wrong questions. As I ponder Jesus’ interactions with his disciples, it seems like that was an issue for them, too – asking the wrong questions. So ponder this…

Are we more captivated by the characteristics of the kingdom than by the character of the One who reigns?

We want to know stuff about the kingdom – what it is, where it is, its relation to heaven (or vice versa), etc. We are interested in the characteristics of the kingdom. A place. What if we were to focus our attention on the character of the King himself? It’s this very wonderment that led me to create The Parable of the Benevolent King. I was attempting to describe a kingdom that reflected the character of the king. In the process, the characteristics of the kingdom became evident.

I suspect that when the Israelites met Yahweh at Mount Sinai, they were discovering the character of the God who rescued them from oppression and slavery. In the theophany, they discovered his holy presence on the mountain. The gods they knew about in Egypt were tied to time and place and a bit inept.

Try to imagine what they experienced…

¹⁶On the morning of the third day there was thunder and lightning, with a thick cloud over the mountain, and a very loud trumpet blast. Everyone in the camp trembled. ¹⁷Then Moses led the people out of the camp to meet with God, and they stood at the foot of the mountain. ¹⁸Mount Sinai was covered with smoke, because the Lord descended on it in fire. The smoke billowed up from it like smoke from a furnace, and the whole mountain^[a] trembled violently. ¹⁹As the sound of the trumpet grew louder and louder, Moses spoke and the voice of God answered him. (Exodus 19:16-19)

This awesome experience was followed by Him delivering a set of commandments given for the people, His subjects. Starting with the Ten, we usually view these commands as precepts on how the people were to live in the presence of a holy God. There is certainly something to that. But what if we also looked at the commands as a revelation of God’s character to a people who knew nothing of his character? Think about it. As we watch world leaders issue “commands,” don’t their directives tend to reveal their character?

Through the Ten Commandments, the people discovered that Yahweh is the only true God, not tied to time and space (Exodus 20). This God did not require images because He created them as his image bearers, as we discussed in an earlier post.

But God didn’t stop with the Ten Commandments. He instituted an additional set of commands (see Exodus 20-23). Like the bottom of the order of the first Ten, these additional couple of dozen commands are mostly related to how his image-bearers were to relate to each other. We might call them social justice laws. They talk about how servants were to be treated, about fair trade, about the treatment of widows and orphans, about how foreigners were to be treated, about justice and mercy, etc. In fact, the NIV translation’s heading for a section of these additional commands is “Laws of Justice and Mercy.”

Can you see how the commands reveal the character of the King?

So again I wonder, is our attention drawn to the discovery of the characteristics of the kingdom rather than the character of the King? Maybe Dallas Willard had that figured out when he said…

Jesus put a face on the Kingdom of God*

* Willard, D. (2024). The scandal of the kingdom : how the parables of Jesus revolutionize life with God. Zondervan Books.

Exodus…

At the end of the previous post, The Great Egress, the million or so Hebrew slaves were headed toward safety on the East side of the Red Sea (Sea of Reeds?). Pharaoh’s stubbornness had required “acts of God,” natural catastrophes to which he finally succumbed. He succumbed to the reality that Yahweh was sovereign and he, in fact, was not. His arrogance and stubbornness had a direct effect on his people, his subjects, to the point that they urged the Hebrews to leave as quickly as possible, taking booty with them (Exodus 12:33). As we read world history, we see time and again “sovereign” kings confused as to who exactly is sovereign. And their subjects bear the brunt of their misguided autocracy.

This rescue from Egypt is known as The Exodus, the primary event of the Hebrew Scriptures’ redemptive history. It was how God fulfilled his promise to the patriarchs (Abraham et al.) of their role in the world and his restoration project. They would become a great nation and a blessing to the rest of the world. It’s also the root of the annual Passover festival, a celebration of God’s justice and mercy (hesed).

As the Hebrews reached safety, they broke into song, praising Yahweh for the rescue. Typical of many Psalms, the song recapped the events of the rescue, praised God for his salvation and redemption from the Egyptians, and acknowledged God’s sovereignty as a faithful God and king (see Exodus 15). A particularly powerful acknowledgment can be found in the middle of the song…

Who among the gods
    is like you, Lord?
Who is like you—
    majestic in holiness,
awesome in glory,
    working wonders?

These are words of a kingdom people acknowledging the majesty of their (newfound?) king. These are words from a people who are grasping the significance that they are subjects of a King of kings. These are words of a people that God will involve in his restoration project. These are the words of a people who were beginning to understand the God who sent this message to them while they were still in captivity…

“I am the Lord [Yahweh], and I will bring you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians. I will free you from being slaves to them, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgment. I will take you as my own people, and I will be your God.” (Exodus 6:6-7)

Their God, Yahweh, was with them.

How was he with them? God manifested himself as a cloud pillar during the day and a pillar of fire at night. It’s how God led them and comforted them with his presence. The pillars were visible expressions of an invisible God. We must not miss the significance that the great Jewish theologian turned Christian Apostle, Paul, used a similar reference in his letter to the Church of Colossae…

Now Christ is the visible expression of the invisible God. (Colossians 1:15, JB Phillips)

God’s presence with the people was a big deal. In the beginning, when things were “on earth as in heaven,” God walked with his created humanity. When the humans disobeyed God and desired to be like Him, the relationship with God was broken. This is why we say we live in a broken world.

Through Moses and the pillars, Yahweh was leading his people home – home being Canaan, the land where they lived before the Joseph debacle. Canaan was the land promised to the original people called to be kingdom ambassadors – Abraham and his descendants…

“I will establish my covenant as an everlasting covenant between me and you and your descendants after you for the generations to come, to be your God and the God of your descendants after you. The whole land of Canaan, where you now reside as a foreigner, I will give as an everlasting possession to you and your descendants after you; and I will be their God.” (Genesis 17:7-8)

These million or so freed slaves were descendants of Abraham. The covenant applied to them, though likely most didn’t know of Yahweh or the covenant. Keep in mind that when Moses conversed with God through the burning bush, he didn’t know Him or his name, either. It would be fair to assume he was unfamiliar with the Abrahamic covenant as well.

See where this is going? These former slaves, dependents of the people God chose to be “blessed to be a blessing,” were likely unaware of their calling. A million or so people. As mentioned above, regarding the song they sang, they were probably just starting to get a glimpse of this God that rescued them. They had trusted Him thus far, it seems, but that doesn’t mean they knew him. Likely, they were simply trusting the God of Moses (which is pretty significant trust, by the way). They were just beginning to know and trust the creator God.

Yahweh was their God, and they were his people. But they had yet to learn what that actually looked like!

The Great Egress…

In the late 1800s, Phineas Taylor (P.T.) Barnum, known for his flamboyant and often deceptive marketing, decided to create a “memorable” experience for his audience. He placed a sign at one of his shows that read “This Way to the Great Egress.” The sign was placed at an exit, but it was cleverly designed to confuse and disorient the audience. People, thinking they were being directed to something important or special, followed the sign, only to find themselves outside the venue.

It could be folklore, but it’s a great story anyway. Here’s a little-known fact. I’m related to P.T. Barnum. Yes, the greatest showman! I don’t know how I’m related, but I remember meeting an “Aunt Barnum” years ago.

We have been working our way through a “working document” I created for myself – created to help me understand, capsulate, and articulate the kingdom of God that was central to Jesus’ message. Two-thirds of Jesus’ parables were about the kingdom of God – what it’s like and how things work in the kingdom. Understanding the nature of the kingdom is critical to understanding who God is as the King.

Given interruptions related to the holidays, etc., I suppose a brief recap of the ground we’ve covered thus far is necessary. We started with the creation of the universe, God’s’ kingdom – the heavens and earth. Humans were given “say” over God’s earth as stewards and caretakers. At the time of creation, it wouldn’t be a leap to assume God’s will (reign) was on earth as in heaven. Then distraction! The humans, God’s image-bearers, became distracted by the satan’s lure for them to be like God. Adam and Eve lost sight of their calling and their action created fissures in the kingdom on Earth.

God embarked on a project of new creation. He desired to continue to use his created image-bearers to be stewards and workers in the restoration or new creation project. He selected Abram (who became Abraham) to father a people who would serve His purposes in the larger plan of restoration. They were chosen to be his kingdom people, to be a blessing to the rest of the world – ambassadors of sorts.

Abraham’s descendants got distracted, though (see Joseph, Thermuthis, and Moses as well as Moses), ending up in Egyptian captivity for 400 years as slaves. Abraham’s descendants, the kingdom people, found themselves working seven days a week under brutality and brutal conditions. Tyrannical kings don’t get to abuse image-bearers and get away with it. Yahweh, the Lord of lords and King of kings had enough and stepped in to rescue his people. He chose Moses to be the leader who would confront Pharaoh, his adoptive father, and lead the people to freedom.

We know the story. God sent Moses, accompanied by his brother Aaron, with a message for Pharaoh, the king of Egypt…

Yahweh, the God of the Hebrews, has sent me to say to you: Let my people go so that they may worship me in the wilderness.

Pharaoh was not about to lose his workforce, so he refused. The refusal led to a plague on the nation and its people. Pharaoh’s response to the plague? He dug in his heels (his heart was hardened) with more refusal, leading to more plagues – ten to be exact. In the final plague, God sent an angel of death to all firstborns (humans and animals alike), a judgment on Pharaoh, his people, and their gods.

On the night of the plague of the firstborn, God gave the Hebrews traveling instructions: Kill and roast a young lamb, smear some of its blood on the sides and tops of the doorframes of the houses where they gathered to eat the lamb; no time for the bread to rise, so no yeast. Eat the meal with sandals on and staff in hand, ready to move. Seeing the blood on the doors, the angel of death would “pass over” the house, sparing firstborns.

It was the Lord’s Passover (Exodus 12:11). Passover has been celebrated annually by people of Hebrew descent, Abraham’s descendants, ever since – approximately 3500 years.

Pharaoh ultimately let the kingdom people go, though he changed his mind, leading to the Red Sea fiasco that was the demise of his troops. The whole thing is known as the Exodus.

Exodus | ˈeksədəs |: a mass departure of people, especially emigrants

It was a great exodus, most central in the story of God.* I suppose it could also be called the great egress (the action of going out of or leaving a place), but I doubt it will catch on. Through the Exodus, God revealed that His project of renewal would continue its advancement toward “on earth as in heaven.” God’s kingdom people would remain commissioned to bring blessings and shine as a light to the world. The Exodus people were to be his…

Ambassadors!

* An example of the centrality of the Exodus story is the Psalms of Hallel (Psalms 113-118), also called the Egyptian Hallel, sung during the annual Passover meal (seder).

Moses

In a previous post, we were introduced to Moses, raised by the daughter of the king of Egypt, Pharaoh. She had rescued him as a three-month-old floating down the Nile River in an ark. His parents had placed him in the little ark instead of the alternative of being thrown into the Nile to die per an edict of Pharaoh. Moses’ biological mother was his wet nurse, unbeknownst to Pharaoh and his daughter. The beginning of his life was really quite ironic.

It was Pharaoh’s daughter who named him Moses, giving him a name with Egyptian roots. According to the Jewish historian Flavius Josephus, he was given the Egyptian name Mouses “for the Egyptians call water by the name of Mo, and such as are saved out of it, by the name of Uses: so by putting these two words together, they imposed this name upon him.”¹

Although he grew up as Egyptian royalty, Moses was apparently aware of his Hebrew heritage. As he grew older, he became increasingly troubled by the harsh treatment of the Israelite slaves. Given his adoption into the Egyptian royal family and his identification with the oppressed Hebrews, Moses grew up with a dual identity. Who else do we know with a dual identity?

When Moses was about 40 years old, he witnessed an Egyptian slave master beating an enslaved Hebrew. In a moment of righteous indignation, Moses killed the Egyptian and hid the body in the sand. The next day, he saw two Hebrews fighting and tried to intervene, but they rejected his help, asking if he intended to kill them as he did the Egyptian. Realizing that his act of violence was known, Moses feared for his life, and for good reason…

Pharaoh, hearing of the incident, sought to kill Moses.

Moses fled Egypt and escaped to the land of Midian, located in the desert region east of Egypt. In Midian, Moses met the seven daughters of Reuel (also called Jethro), who he defended from some harassing shepherds. In gratitude, Jethro invited Moses to stay with his family. Moses eventually married Zipporah, one of Jethro’s daughters, and they had a son named Gershom because he was a foreigner in a foreign land.

Moses spent the next 40 years in Midian, living as a shepherd.

While tending Jethro’s sheep in the wilderness near Mount Horeb, “the mountain of God,” an unusual burning bush caught Moses’ eye. It’s my understanding that burning bushes are common in arid climates. What made this one unusual was the appearance of an angel in the bush. Oh, and the bush wasn’t consumed. I guess that might qualify as unusual. So Moses thought what any of us might have thought…

I will go over and see this strange sight—why the bush does not burn up. (Exodus 3:3)

As he approached, God garnered Moses’ attention by calling his name from within the burning bush – another uncommon occurrence. God provided further identification (as if a non-consumed burning bush with an angel and God’s voice wasn’t enough!). God revealed Himself as the God of his ancestry – the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. God had Moses’ attention.

God proceeded to share with Moses His plan to deliver the Israelites from Egyptian slavery and oppression. He chose Moses to be the leader who would confront Pharaoh, his adoptive father, and lead the people to freedom. Moses did not feel up to the task, questioning his ability to fulfill this mission. He had concerns. And questions. For example, Moses said to God…

Suppose I go to the Israelites and say to them, “The God of your fathers has sent me to you,” and they ask me, “What is his name?” then what shall I tell them? (Exodus 3:13)

God responded with the well-known statement: I AM WHO I AM. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: “I AM has sent me to you.” (Exodus 3:14)

In this blog series, an exhaustive discussion of this powerful exchange is beyond the scope of our journey to understand the kingdom of God that Jesus proclaimed. A couple of things are worthy of consideration, however. First, God did not respond to Moses’ question with a scolding theological reply. “Which god are you” was a fair question, given that the Hebrew slaves had lived 400 years in a polytheistic culture of gods and temples associated with different aspects of life, nature, or the cosmos (i.e., sun gods, rain gods, etc.). I always find it fascinating that God met Moses and the Hebrews at their point of theological understanding.

Capturing the essence of the statement I AM WHO I AM could consume an entire book. Essentially, it declares God’s eternal, self-sufficient, and unchanging nature, showing that He is independent of all creation, beyond human comprehension, and the ultimate foundation of all existence. Yahweh is derivative of the I AM statement. See why a book might be required?

Theologically, Moses is referred to as an archetype of Jesus. In short, in the kingdom of God narrative, an archetype is a person who serves as a model pointing to a greater fulfillment in God’s redemptive plan. Both Moses and King David are seen as archetypes of Jesus the Messiah, foreshadowing His role as the ultimate deliverer, king, and mediator.

While pondering Moses’ story, it occurred to me that his dual identity as Egyptian royalty with the roots of the common people is an archetype of Jesus. Thus, the question, “Who else do we know with a dual identity?” This is Advent season when we consider the significance of Royalty taking on the form of commonness.

The King came near!!

¹Josephus, Flavius. The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged (p. 491-2). http://www.DelmarvaPublications.com. Kindle Edition.

Joseph, Thermuthis, and Moses

If you have never watched Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, you must. Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber musically tell the story of how the Israelites ended up in Egypt instead of Canaan, the land provided for Abraham and his descendants. It is brilliantly and humorously done and guaranteed to help one remember the story.

We know the story pretty well. Jacob (renamed Israel – see Distracted) had twelve sons. Joesph, the eleventh son, was by far his favorite. Joseph seemed aware of his place in his father’s eye and tended to push his older brothers’ buttons (if you have a younger brother, you might know of what I speak). He had dreams of them one day bowing down to him. It’s one thing to have such dreams. It’s quite another to tell one’s older brothers about them. Oh, and apparently, he had an ornate coat that his brothers envied.

One day, Joseph was tasked by his dad to check on his nomadic sheep-herding brothers, which he did while wearing his special, ornate coat. Envy and jealousy reared their ugly heads, and murder by brothers was imminent. The prudence of the oldest brother, Ruben, prevailed and Joseph’s life was spared. However, the other ten brothers sold him to slave traders headed to Egypt. How do you explain a missing favorite son? Smear his ornate coat with a slaughtered goat’s blood to convince Jacob that some ferocious animal must have devoured Joseph.

If you are thinking that things are not “on earth as in heaven,” you would be right.

Fast forward a lot of years. We find Joseph, aided by his God-given ability to interpret dreams, high in Pharaoh’s administration as the Secretary of Agriculture, overseeing preparation for and wheat distribution during a seven-year famine. The drought reached as far east as Canaan, forcing the brothers to grovel before Joseph, unbeknownst, for sustenance. With identities revealed and forgiveness granted, the entire clan of Jacob relocated to Egypt, settling on land provided by Pharaoh.¹ (If you prefer more detail, read all this in Genesis 37-47.)

It might have now seemed like “on earth as in heaven,” but nope…

A couple hundred years after their relocation to Egypt, the tide shifted. A new king (a Pharaoh) “to whom Joseph meant nothing” came to power, recognized a potential threat the foreigners could pose, and acted swiftly and shrewdly. He enslaved them. Oppressive slave masters worked them ruthlessly, I assume seven days a week. They worked in the fields, in brick manufacturing, and as laborers for Pharaoh’s building projects.

Interestingly, the more the Israelites were oppressed, the more they multiplied. Pharaoh feared the expanding population of slaves might rebel and join Egypt’s enemies should war break out. So he acted with murderous shrewdness. He demanded that midwives kill baby boys at birth. The midwives feared God (and presumably not Pharaoh) and refused. When asked why the refusal, the midwives explained that the vigorous Hebrew women popped the babies out before they could arrive to assist.

Pharaoh ratcheted up his determination to control the population of the foreigners. He demanded that all baby boys immediately be cast into the Nile (there is no indication in scripture as to how this was accomplished).

Enter Moses into God’s redemption project

As you might recall, the baby Moses was hidden from the authorities for three months. When he became too active to conceal, his parents crafted a plan to spare his life as long as possible. This is how Jewish historian Flavius Josephus described the plan…

They made an ark of bulrushes, after the manner of a cradle, and of a bigness sufficient for an infant to be laid in without being too straitened: they then daubed it over with slime, which would naturally keep out the water from entering between the bulrushes, and put the infant into it, and setting it afloat upon the river, they left its preservation to God; so the river received the child, and carried him along.²

Scripture indicates that Moses’ sister followed her little brother as the ark floated along the Nile to see what might happen to him. Pharaoh’s daughter (Thermuthis, according to Josephus) found the baby boy while bathing in the Nile. She recognized the crying baby as a Hebrew child in need of a meal. The infant’s watching sister offered to get a Hebrew wet nurse to feed the child. The wet nurse was, of course, his very own mother. Scripture indicates that he became the son of Pharaoh’s daughter…

When the child grew older, she [Moses’ mother] took him to Pharaoh’s daughter and he became her son. She named him Moses, saying, “I drew him out of the water” (Moses sounds like the Hebrew for draw out). Exodus 2:10, NIV.

Josephus, the ever-embellisher, tells the story this way…

Hereupon it was that Thermuthis imposed this name Mouses upon him, from what had happened when he was put into the river; for the Egyptians call water by the name of Mo, and such as are saved out of it, by the name of Uses: so by putting these two words together, they imposed this name upon him. And he was, by the confession of all, according to God’s prediction, as well for his greatness of mind as for his contempt of difficulties, the best of all the Hebrews, for Abraham was his ancestor of the seventh generation.²

Through scripture and the historian Josephus, we see God’s hand in the continuation of his redemption / new creation project, though not without a fair amount of messiness. I suppose that should be expected, given his desire to continue to use flawed image-bearers to carry out his purposes. The descendants of Abraham, God’s kingdom people, were still called to be his ambassadors to the nations.

So the story continues…

¹It should be noted that Jacob’s clan (Israel) and the Egyptians had a shared ancestry in Noah (see the reference to Ham in Psalm 105:23). Shared origins remind us that Israel was chosen from among their related clans. They were no better or righteous. God simply chose them for a particular task.

²Josephus, Flavius. The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged (p. 491-2). http://www.DelmarvaPublications.com. Kindle Edition.

Distracted…

I can easily get distracted and sidetracked. I’m guessing I’m not alone. Though never diagnosed with an attention disorder, I would be willing to bet I might land somewhere on the spectrum. The advent of the internet has not been my friend. My top CliftonStrengths (Intellection, Connectedness, Ideation, Context, Input) make me ripe and susceptible to internet rabbit trails that deter me from intended purposes. Again, I’m guessing I’m not alone. It must be a human vulnerability that the satan is well aware of. Distraction might be his best work!

Consider how he distracted the original humans in the Garden.

They were tasked with caring for part of God’s kingdom, the earth they inhabited. The satan distracted them with a shiny object, and they bit. The result? They lost focus of the original intent to serve as kingdom stewards. It reminds me of the old saying:

When distracted by the swarming alligators, it’s hard to remember that the original intent was to drain the swamp.

Not only did Adam and Eve lose sight of their calling, but their action created fissures in the kingdom on Earth. The created order was broken. So, God embarked on a project of new creation. His desire to continue to use his created image-bearers to be stewards and workers in the redemption project, even though they got distracted, is fascinating. As discussed in the last post…

God chose Abram and his descendants to be catalysts in the redemption of the kingdom. They would be workers for God’s kingdom. God would bless Abram and his descendants for the express purpose of, in turn, blessing the image-bearers around them. Abram and his offspring were to help reestablish God’s will “on earth as in heaven.” Ambassadors for the kingdom, as it were.

Well, the people got distracted again. They appeared to have lost sight of the original intent as ambassadors. They liked the idea of being blessed. But being a blessing to the peoples around them somehow got lost. As we all tend to do, they got distracted by helping God in ways he didn’t ask. A synopsis…

God promised Abram that his descendants would outnumber the stars in the sky or the sands on the seashore. Accordingly, God renamed him Abraham, meaning “father of many [nations].” Abraham got distracted by the reality that he and his wife, Sarah, were very old, beyond child-bearing age. Taking things into their own hands, Sarah suggested that Abraham sleep with her servant, Hagar. Cultural custom allowed such an arrangement, deeming the child “theirs” if the baby was birthed onto Sarah’s lap. Abraham bit, and Ishmael was born.

Ultimately, Abraham and Sarah had a child of their own – Isaac. Once Issac was weaned (evidence that he had avoided the dangers of infant mortality?), Sarah had Hagar and Ishmael sent away. But God, in his generosity, took care of them in their exile. Arabic Islam tradition holds that Abraham fathered their nation through Ishmael.

Issac fathered twins Jacob and Esau. Esau was the first-born and thus the rightful heir. Jacob was a hustler and a deceiver (his name actually means “deceiver”). Apparently, his mom, Rebekah, was a deceiver too. Together, they tricked Isaac into giving Jacob, her favorite, the first-born blessing.

However, the heir apparent to the Abrahamic “blessed to be a blessing” calling got sidetracked for a few years. A lot of years, in fact. Escaping the wrath of Esau, Jacob ended up on his uncle Laban’s sheep ranch. The hustler negotiated a deal with Laban for the hand of his daughter Rachel, who he fell for down at the watering hole. Jacob agreed to work for his uncle for seven years to earn Rachel as his wife. However, Laban tricked the trickster, and Jacob found himself married to Rachel’s sister, Leah. Argh!

Long story short, Jacob ended up with Rachel as his wife, too, but it cost him several more years of his life serving Laban. As you can imagine, being married to two sisters created some interesting familial dynamics. God’s image-bearing ambassadors were not only sidetracked but appeared headed for derailment. Ultimately, the now humbled Jacob returned with his dysfunctional tribe to his homeland to face Esau. Much to his surprise, Esau ran to embrace Jacob!

(As I write, I can’t help but think of Jesus’ parable of the prodigal brothers. In this case, it is the older brother who surprisingly runs to embrace the wayward younger brother. Perhaps he was stepping into the role his late father once held.)

After returning to his homeland, Jacob wrestled with a man (some think it was God or an angel) for an entire night. (Who among us hasn’t wrestled with God in some manner over the years?) Jacob would not let the man go, even after experiencing a significant hip pointer. He demanded God’s blessing, WHICH HE RECEIVED! God, in his generosity, continued to work with his flawed image-bearing ambassadors and recognized Jacob as the rightful heir.

God renamed Jacob “Israel.” Israel means “let God prevail” or “struggle with God.” God changed Jacob’s name to signify that he had become someone different and was now seeking God instead of relying on deception.

The name Israel was significant because it represented the covenant between God and Jacob and the promise that he would receive the same blessings as Abraham and Isaac. The mission of Abraham’s descendants to bless the nations was back in motion. The redemption project was back on track.

Or was it?

On Earth as in Heaven…

In the previous post, I described an upcoming series exploring my broad understanding of the kingdom of God, the kingdom Jesus ushered in and proclaimed…

Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. “The time has come,” he said. “The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!” (Mark 1:14-15)

What was this kingdom that Jesus proclaimed, and why didn’t his hearers ask, “What kingdom?” So, apparently, they had some kind of understanding of God’s kingdom. It wasn’t necessarily “news” to Jesus’ first-century hearers. However, it appears that Jesus’ proclamation was that his news about the kingdom might be new and fresh – good news.

Let’s start with an understanding of God’s kingdom through the ages.

We should start with the description of a kingdom. Dallas Willard in The Scandal of the Kingdom¹ offers a simple definition of a kingdom…

A kingdom is a society of people with a structure in which there is one person, a king or queen, to whom all the citizens offer loyalty, service and respect. The sovereign’s part of this relationship is to provide care, protection, and service for the good of the people.

In his book The Divine Conspiracy², Willard describes the kingdom of God as the range of God’s effective will, where what God wants done is done. This “effective reign” is present wherever God’s will is actively carried out. To Willard, the kingdom of God is not just a spiritual or internal experience but encompasses all aspects of life, including social, political, and personal domains.

Genesis 1. Starting with the creation story, which we are quite familiar with, we see God as the creator. His kingdom encompassed the entire universe, including the third rock from the sun that we inhabit. To the ancients, God resided in the heavens (note “the heavens,” not heaven). One could also say he lived in “the sky.” Since the sky, to them, was everything above the Earth (think atmosphere), God wasn’t far away as we tend to believe today. At the time of creation, it wouldn’t be a leap to assume God’s will (reign) was on earth as in heaven (where have we heard that before?).

Integral to God’s creative activity was the creation of his image-bearers (Genesis 1:27)…

So God created mankind in his own image,
in the image of God he created them;
male and female he created them.

He entrusted his image-bearers to care for his earthly kingdom according to his will. (Think, Thy will be done on earth as in heaven.) They were tasked as stewards to care for the Earth in a way that reflected God’s heart – both environmental and relational stewardship. By definition, a steward is someone employed to manage another’s property. They were workers in and for God’s kingdom. They were to be fruitful and multiply, adding to the number of those serving the kingdom.

Genesis 3. We know what happened next. The image-bearers decided they had a better idea of how to steward the planet. With the encouragement of the serpent, they decided they could manage things as well as God. The serpent got Adam and Eve to take their eyes off God and his will with an enticement to “become like God” (Genesis 3:5). The rest is, as we say, history.

Their decision (sin) meant that the kingdom of God on earth was broken and in need of redemption. One result was that the relational closeness Adam and Eve experienced with God was broken. God’s kingdom didn’t cease to exist. God was still the king of the universe. But, things were not on earth as in heaven! The entirety of the scriptures post-Genesis 3 is the story of God’s redemption (new creation) project, using his image-bearers to assist in the process.

Genesis 12. God kicked his restoration project into full swing by singling out Abram as his ambassador…

²“I will make you into a great nation,
    and I will bless you;
I will make your name great,
    and you will be a blessing.
³I will bless those who bless you,
    and whoever curses you I will curse;
and all peoples on earth
    will be blessed through you.”

This King/ambassador relationship with these kingdom people was a covenantal relationship, sealed by God himself (see Smoking Pot in the Old Testament). There is a theme/thread woven throughout the entire redemption story known as the covenant formula. The formula is integral to gaining an understanding of and seeing the kingdom of God throughout the biblical narrative. It can be found throughout scripture as some form of…

I will be your God, and you will be my people.

We will pick up Abram’s story in the next post. Meanwhile, you might want to check out the wealth and richness of covenant formula instances. I created a Google Doc with a list of such Biblical occurrences for your perusal. (When I discovered this thematic thread, it was a game-changer!)

¹ Willard, D. (2024). The scandal of the kingdom : how the parables of Jesus revolutionize life with God. Zondervan Books.

² Willard, Dallas. The divine conspiracy: rediscovering our hidden life in God. HarperOne, 1998.

Almost Getting It…

Our small group had a “kingdom of God” discussion a while back. We were talking about the common confusion between kingdom and heaven. Someone in the group said, “I understand that heaven and the kingdom of God are not the same, but I’m not sure I could explain why.” We all agreed that the kingdom of God and its “at-handedness” was Jesus’ core message. We understood that Jesus ushered in the kingdom, but describing what that meant was another issue.

With three to four decades spent seeking to understand God’s kingdom as it relates to present-day life—especially given the longstanding emphasis on heaven—I felt somewhat equipped to add depth to our conversation. I felt like I was starting to get it. Then, the question that sent me back to the drawing board: “If Jesus was ushering in the kingdom, where was it before?”

Drats! Just when I was almost getting it!

The question drove me back from whence I had spent years noodling. It required me to step back and wonder what I was missing or not seeing. So I noodled some more—for several weeks. Then something clicked, and I started to “get it” (which is a bit scary to say, knowing that the next good question might send me back to the drawing board again).

While listening to the New Testament scholar and Israel historian Gary Burge on a Holy Post podcast, something resonated. Something clicked. I jumped on my computer and pounded out a bulleted outline I dubbed Kingdom of God: A Synopsis, a working document. Yes, a “working document.” I keep numerous working documents on my computer as I explore, revisit, and refine my theological perspectives. Keep in mind the definition of theology that informs this blog…

Theology is the attempt to understand God and what he is up to.

By this definition, capturing one’s theological perspectives on paper must be a working document because we are in constant discovery and learning mode. Our theology is a work in progress. God is consistently honing our perspectives.

I’ve often shared that this blog is my space to process and document the journey of discovery that God is leading me on. Writing out concepts that are starting to make sense for me sharpens my critical and creative thinking skills. This experience is transformative for me, and I hope it can be beneficial for readers, too.

For several years, I have thought about embarking on an explanation of what I’ve been discovering about this kingdom of God that Jesus said was at hand, that was good news–the gospel. I have made several attempts, each time coming up empty. I find it challenging to put into words my journey of exploring what Jesus truly meant when he spoke of the Kingdom and its essence. Have you ever noticed that when Jesus talked about the nearness of the Kingdom, his followers never asked, “What kingdom?” That has tripped me up for a long time.

I am going to give it another try. I’m going to begin a series of posts exploring my present understanding of the kingdom of God, utilizing thoughts from my working document. Please understand that I will be fleshing out what presently makes sense to me, but it’s the tip of the iceberg. As time passes, I’m sure I will need to tweak and refine some of my thoughts. First, a bit about the journey that got me to this point (which I have talked about in chunks throughout the blog, but let me pull it all together).

About 40 years ago, after a decade of gospel immersion, it became blatantly obvious that Jesus’ core message was the kingdom of God – its arrival, nearness, and nature. However, most teachings and sermons I heard did nothing to help me/us understand why that was Jesus’ focus. I/we were led to believe that Jesus’ main message was about getting people saved and to heaven, which he rarely addressed.

Enter Dallas Willard’s 1998 book The Divine Conspiracy: Rediscovering Our Hidden Life In God. He started with the story of a young fighter pilot who, in the early 1990s, was taking her jet through maneuvers, got disoriented, attempted a steep climb, and drove it into the ground. She had been flying upside down, unbeknownst. Willard posited that in our misunderstanding of God, his kingdom, and Jesus’ message, we have been flying upside down for so long that we don’t know what right-side up is. I know I didn’t.

As I continued working through The Divine Conspiracy and the gospels, I listened to hours of NT Wright lectures as he developed his own kingdom theology, which culminated in his 2008 book, Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church. Wright caused me to rethink almost everything! In tackling the question of life after death, Wright demonstrated that most Christians have it wrong. Rather than leaving for heaven, we are resurrected here, with heaven descending to earth—a distinction that makes all of the difference to how we live here today. A game-changer!

With this brief background, I will next start to plow through my “working document.” It will be interesting to see where this takes us. As we embark on this adventure, let’s keep asking God the hard questions like “Where was the kingdom before?” God loves good questions. And who knows, maybe more of us will be able to say…

“I’m almost getting it!”