Taking Back His Rebel World

In many Christian circles, we've reduced the gospel to a simple pitch about the afterlife. Saving souls (i.e. trading hell for heaven upon one's death) is often seen as God's primary objective—the meat of the gospel, so to speak. Consequently, signing people up for the sweet hereafter becomes our exclusive agenda (with everything else seen as either a distraction or an optional add-on). Jesus’ version of the gospel, however, had a noticeably different focus than our popular afterlife-insurance spiel. Jesus, for example, was preoccupied with announcing the coming of God’s subversive counter kingdom (arriving off the grid and under the noses of the present powers it was undermining, like yeast spreading through dough or a germinated seed slowly growing into a mighty tree). He invited his followers to experience this radical kingdom-life today as we’re reborn into him and subsequently transformed from enemies into agents of his sweeping new creation project. He described a new humanity and a new world that is even now crashing into and supplanting the old by way of his incarnation, death, resurrection, ascension, and eminent return. In God’s kingdom, the hungry, forgotten, and marginalized—the “last”—are given priority and the “first,” the powerful and privileged, are sent away empty handed. Jesus’ story crescendos with his physical return, the resurrection of the dead (and the end of death), his final confrontation of evil, a restored creation, and the total reunification of heaven and earth in himself, through the power of his Spirit and to the glory of his Father. Far from an evacuation to heaven, the gospel is more accurately describing the invasion and “colonization,” as N.T. Wright would say, of earth by heaven (a proposition that is either wonderful or terrifying—maybe both at the same time—depending on one's perception of the King and attachment to the present system that he means to overthrow). In short, God is now taking back his rebel world through the person and work of Jesus.

God, as the Creator, has exclusive rights to his creation. In Genesis we read how God created humans in his image and assigned them the task of tending to his creation as his administrators. The original human vocation, then, is to reflect the goodness of God to creation and to lead creation in worship of the Creator. It should be noted, however, that despite humanity's extensive, delegated authority over creation, Scripture is always clear that humans are tenants and not owners. When his vast and finely-tuned temple is operating correctly it harmoniously tells a true story about the One who made it. The resulting music is spectacular for everyone involved. But what happens when the middle management refuses to play their part? What damage is done if the conductors won't lead the orchestra to perform the symphony as the Composer has written?

Jesus once told a story about some presumptuous tenants who thought they could deny their landlord access to his own vineyard (the specific context of this story is relating to 1st Century Jewish leaders, but there are intended parallels throughout the biblical narrative between the Israelites/Canaan and humanity/creation). The tenants behaved as if the vineyard was their own, managed it as they saw fit, tried to keep the harvest for themselves, and ultimately murdered the owner's only heir in their attempts to retain power. It didn't go well for them in the end.

Seeing ourselves rightly as created beings who are indebted to our Creator is an important first step in recognizing the severity of our collective offense. If we wrongly conclude that God has created us with no particular purpose in mind, we may assume that we're free to do whatever we want so long as we're generally nice, decent creatures. Judging whether or not we've been successful at this ambiguous endeavor is itself an extremely subjective task (leading many to falsely conclude they are basically “good people”). We'll undoubtedly have differing ideas, for example, about what is or isn't nice and decent human behavior. If, however, we rightly understand that God has made us to be something like a mirror, to reflect his beauty, his justice, and his mercy, then the question isn't whether or not I'm being the best me that I can be. All of our opinions at this point are irrelevant. The real question is whether or not I'm accurately reflecting a specific person, namely my Creator, as he intends (It should be noted here that billions of finite image-bearers could potentially reflect an infinite Creator, with no two of them being the same, and yet the cumulative sum wouldn't even come close to fully describing him). He alone is qualified to determine my success at this. If it turns out I'm not accurately reflecting him (perhaps, like a shattered mirror, I'm no longer even capable of accurately reflecting him) then I'm essentially lying about him by way of the distorted image my life is projecting. Even worse, all of humanity (a tragic collection of broken mirrors that only produce more broken mirrors) is systemically and perpetually misrepresenting the Creator to each other, the rest of creation, and—most importantly—to the Creator himself. Whether we realize it or not, the exploitative and materialistic ways in which we typically view and abuse our fellow image-bearers and the rest of what God has made is nothing short of blasphemy. And the resulting dissonant music, if we can even call it that, is ravaging his creation.

At this point in the story, God has a decision to make (a decision he mysteriously settled in his own mind before even creating). Will he wipe the board clean and begin again (it seems creating is a simple thing for him, after all), or will he undergo the long and painful process of repairing and reinstating the undeserving rebels and undoing the damage they've caused to his creation? (It should be noted that simply ignoring the hell his wayward image-bearers have birthed was never an option for the Creator, as he is intrinsically incapable of apathy). His restrained approach to human rebellion, however, speaks volumes about how he views and wields the infinite power at his disposal. He hasn't abandoned the creation he dearly loves to its usurpers; he has subjected it (as an act of his permissive will) to bondage “in hope” (Romans chapter 8).

The Creator has a unique knot to untangle if he wants to have his creation restored to him as the temple it was meant to be. As already mentioned, an essential component of his interconnected design calls for humans to be willing participants, submitted to his sheet music as an act of their own volition, functioning as conduits of his grace and administrative justice (this willing submission to God by humans is the essence of his kingdom). This delegation of his power is certainly not out of necessity. He could easily conduct his composition himself, play all of the individual instruments, and so on, but this clearly isn't what he's after. The specific structuring of his orchestra, including the vital role assigned to its human conductors, has as much to say about the generous Composer as the actual symphony it was all meant to perform. Jesus, the servant King, once contrasted God's shockingly reserved methodology with typical human rulers' heavy handedness (as seen in our predictable tendency to lord it over each other). Human rulers have historically used violence or propaganda to coerce or manipulate their subjects into submission. But this simply won't produce the sort of kingdom that the Creator is after. He naturally won't bypass or extinguish human volition in his efforts to restore it. The kind of submission he's after can never come as the result of brute force or deception. But how does one convince one's enemies, pitiful creatures who are now inherently rebellious, to willingly, without coercion, submit once again to their rightful King? The complexity of the Creator's dilemma can hardly be overstated, but fortunately for us his ingenuity is boundless.

If human rebellion is the epicenter of creation's trouble, then the remedy can only come as the result of a humanity back on track, reflecting God's glory, and tending to his temple as the priests we were created to be. Here in lies the problem. Every one of us, according to Scripture, has become disqualified. There's an incredible scene in Revelation chapter 5, involving an important, symbolic scroll that sat unopened. An angel shouted out, “'who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seal?' And no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth was able to open the scroll or to look into it.” John, the author of Revelation, at this point broke down and wept uncontrollably over the hopelessness surrounding this unopened scroll. It seemed as though the original human vocation would tragically go unclaimed and unfulfilled.

What John witnessed next in Revelation 5 parallels the incredible Daniel 7 prophecy, in which a mysterious human character (a “son of man”) ascends to heaven, walks boldly into the throne room of the “Ancient of Days,” and is “given dominion (see Genesis 1:28) and glory and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him; his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and his kingdom one that shall not be destroyed.” John sees this same epic “son of man” moment in his vision, when the despair surrounding the unopened scroll is suddenly shattered with the arrival of the “Lion” who is also a “slain Lamb.” Pin-drop silence falls over the crowd as this mysterious figure emerges. This somehow worthy human walks right up to “him who was seated on the throne” and claims the scroll on our behalf. The onlookers erupt into song, “Worthy are you to take the scroll and to open its seals, for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation, and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on the earth.”

His solution to the human dilemma is elegant and unexpected. Ironically, God himself, as an authentic human, fulfilled the original human vocation, and, by doing so, he is reclaiming all that was lost. The only begotten Son, the eternal Word of God, who spoke the universe into existence, became the human we were all meant to be, the true “image of the invisible God.” As the Creator, God's authority over his creation and subsequent rights to it are uncontested. But in the incarnation, God reclaims, on our behalf, a uniquely human authority. Suppose for a minute that the person who invented American football also established and presided over the National Football League, built all the stadiums, owned all the teams, and held lifelong contracts with every player. Despite this person's vast authority over the sport they created and maintain, they would still need to take to the field as an athlete if their intention was to fairly win the league's most valuable player award. And that's exactly what he did. God took to the field in the form of a 1st Century, penniless, Galilean from backwoods Nazareth, and he conquered the world without firing a shot.

The unique mission of the Christ could only be fulfilled by a human character (that he was also by necessity God, on account of universal human failing, is a fantastic twist in the story but not the main point of this chapter—as we often make it). In other words, Jesus wasn't just pretending to be human in the incarnation; he was human (John claims that denying this fact is “antichrist” - 2 John 1:7). And though his divinity is firmly established in Scripture, proving it wasn't the drum Jesus was beating during his earthly ministry (You might remember that “son of man” was his favorite term for himself). He silenced demonic beings who recognized who he really was, and he frequently made it clear that he didn't speak or act on his own authority (Philippians chapter 2 describes his behavior in the incarnation as a humble emptying of himself in order to faithfully fulfill his mission). He operated with borrowed authority, given to him by God, authority reserved for an untarnished human, the promised King, God's chosen representative, on whom his divine favor rests (The term “Messiah/Christ” sums this up nicely). The call to accept Jesus as God's chosen human representative, the exclusive conduit through which his grace would flow, and the means by which he would reclaim his rebel world is what we see primarily promoted in Scripture (John 5:37-38, 6:29, Acts 4:10-12). Jesus lived his life as a perfect image-bearer, fully relying on the Holy Spirit, and in complete submission to his Father (he “learned obedience” on our behalf - Hebrews 5). Receiving Jesus as the Christ is equated with submitting to God's plan for humanity. If we miss this, if we instead see Jesus as something of a superman, then we miss the point of the incarnation (As an untarnished human, he was a superman of sorts, but not the way we often think). Don't misunderstand me; defending the deity of Christ is an important task from which the Church should never shrink back. But in doing so, we must also realize that there's much more going on in the incarnation than simply, “surprise—Jesus is God.” The man Jesus isn't meant to be seen as a perpetual singularity but the extraordinary means by which God is producing many more sons and daughters of a similar kind (Hebrews 2:9-18). We've unfortunately allowed the heretics to define the parameters of this conversation (especially the misguided ideological descendants of Arius). As a result, we're spending so much energy defending Jesus' divinity that we're left with little time to recognize and accurately describe the implications of his humanity.

Just as the first Adam's rebellion infected all of humanity, so the second Adam's obedience makes him patient zero for a new pandemic, what C.S. Lewis calls the “good infection.” Jesus is something of a Trojan horse, in this way, an unassuming Antidote for the human condition. He is the first of many Spirit-filled and fully submitted humans, the King and the kingdom rolled into one, the person where heaven and earth intersect, and the divine image-bearer who sacrificially resolves the human conflict with God in his own broken body. He alone, through restored conductors, will direct the orchestra to properly perform the Composer's magnum opus. Jesus is the prototype for a restored humanity and the catalyst for the new creation. He is the invasion we never saw coming.

Of course not everyone is celebrating Jesus' enthronement. There are plenty of people who don't want God to reclaim his rebel world (plenty of tenants who think they are owners). God is patient, but he won't wait forever. His rescue plan will go forward as scheduled (It's his universe, after all). When Jesus returns, he will personally confront those who resist his legitimate authority, those who love their rebellion more than their coming King. Participation in God's kingdom as citizen sons is voluntary, however, and all those who foolishly opt out of God's new creation project will eventually have their decision ratified for all eternity. God values and even honors human volition, but he won't allow these dissenters to wreak havoc in his new creation. Sin spreads like cancer. The only perfect human, he who was obedient to God unto death—even death on a cross—will stand in judgment of their defiance. He will banish them from God's restored universe. “There are only two kinds of people in the end,” says Lewis, “those who say to God, 'Thy will be done,' and those to whom God says, in the end, 'Thy will be done.'” Their subsequent existence, forever separated from the Author of Life, is described in Scripture as a “second death.” Jesus, himself, compares this eternal quarantine to being locked out of the city, thrown on a burning heap of decaying filth, or set adrift in a lake of perpetual fire. He passionately warns whoever will listen that this tragic fate is to be avoided at all costs.

However, forgiveness of sins is never an end in itself. The popular afterlife pitch frequently divorces Jesus' debt-canceling work on the cross from God's ultimate purpose of restoring the original human vocation. In a truncated gospel, the “why?” behind the cross is often answered with, “...so we can go to heaven after we die.” While it's certainly true that God knows and loves each and every one of us (and his ambitious new creation project naturally involves our individual repentance and willing submission to his Christ), it's a mistake to view our “personal salvation” apart from the good news of God's kingdom (Even Jesus' well known conversation with Nicodemus, in which he articulates an individual's desperate need to become “born again,” takes place within the context of his larger kingdom message – John 3:3). Ultimately, we're made clean as a prerequisite for service. Our great offense is mercifully removed on the cross so that we're finally able to get back to that for which we were originally created. Scripture frequently ties forgiveness of sins to reinstatement in God's service (Titus 2:11-14, Ephesians 2:8-10, Hebrews 9:14). God's reason for releasing Abraham's descendants from the bondage of Egypt, for example, was so they would be free to “serve” him (Exodus 4:22-23). Keep in mind, it's exceedingly good to be in his service. He means to make us kings and queens. Ultimately, a heart of stone has no interest in fulfilling the original human vocation (which is why the strictly punishment-avoidance-pitch is very popular), but a restored heart of flesh leaps with indescribable gratitude at the opportunity to be reinstated as a priest in God's temple. Many of our notions of heaven, salvation, and God's endgame need to be rethought in light of Jesus' kingdom message.

When we lose sight of the larger narrative, we'll often view sanctification (i.e. becoming like Jesus) as an add-on to the gospel instead of the point of it all. Growing into the image of Christ isn't merely a private endeavor that we undertake for our own personal edification (i.e. approaching the fruit of the Spirit as a self-help buffet that promises to unlock our best life now). Our personal transformation is an integral part of his wide-scale terraforming project. He's making ready a now-inhospitable environment for his glorious, unveiled presence. He's bringing all things under the lordship of Jesus, and incrementally answering the Lord's Prayer for heaven to be reunited with earth. As we submit to the indwelling Spirit of Christ, we become kingdom-pockets of heaven on earth. There are still many areas of his world—many corners of our own hearts—that haven't yet fully submitted to his reign. There's much work to be done, but fortunately his kingdom will continually increase (Isaiah 9:7). Jesus claims he is “making all things new.” If we truly are “new creations” in Christ, then we should see the obvious continuity between what he is now doing in us and the final restoration of all things at the eschaton (described most vividly in Revelation chapters 21 and 22).

I know a brother-in-Christ who ministers in his hometown of Machilipatnam, India. He's used mightily by God to clothe the naked and feed the hungry, to sometimes rescue women and children from sex-trafficking rings run by murderous gangsters. I've heard stories of children sold into prostitution for a bag of rice, whole families that have laid down together on train tracks in a time of total desperation. Some of the children have witnessed their own father savagely murder their mother before their eyes, while others have been intentionally maimed by organized crime syndicates that use them as professional beggars (little ones that have seen evil so cruel they're still unable to even speak it). To anyone paying attention, the world is still obviously full of profound brokenness. And yet the darkness is passing away (1 John 2:8). One of my sister-in-laws works as an advocate for victims of human trafficking. She could tell you that in virtually every city across the US there are image-bearers of God being exploited by other image-bearers in numerous, horrific and dehumanizing ways (some of whom you and I have almost definitely met in passing without even knowing). And yet the Light has come. Even among our own communities and churches, those who are being transformed into the image of Christ, ministers of the gospel, our friends and family, may succumb to hidden sexual sin, vile hypocrisy, corruption, greed, racism, addictions, emotional and physical abuse... and yet... a new Day is dawning. As I look within, I've felt at times defeated and ashamed at what my own mouth has said, the lies my sin-stricken heart has believed, and the evil my hands have done. But we mustn't lose heart; our King is on the move. “For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves” (Colossians 1:13).

It takes faith to believe that God, even now in the midst of our broken world, is actively bringing all things under the lordship of King Jesus. Likewise, it takes faith to trust Jesus when he assures us that “all authority in heaven and on earth” has been given to him. And it takes faith to know that when his massive restoration project is complete—a rebel world returned to its Creator—he'll one day present the kingdom to his proud Father. The Creator will then dwell among us on a restored earth. We'll see his face, he'll be our God, and we'll be his people. This is his incredible endgame. This is the story the Bible is telling. And it's into this exciting endeavor that he's inviting “whosoever” to join him.

“For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved.” - Romans 8:19-24a


“To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood, and has made us to be a kingdom and priests to serve his God and Father—to him be glory and power for ever and ever! Amen.” - Revelation 1:5b-6

“Then the end will come, when he hands over the kingdom to God the Father after he has destroyed all dominion, authority and power. For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death.” - 1 Corinthians 15:24-26