Chapter 11 of 22

7 The fulfilment of the promise inaugurated: the Gospels

7 The fulfilment of the promise inaugurated: the Gospels

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The fulfilment of the promise inaugurated: the Gospels

The land promise in New Testament theology

According to Bruce Waltke, ‘The trajectory of the land motif into the New Testament is the most difficult biblical motif to track.’ This is so because the term ‘land’ is rarely found in the New Testament. Naim Ateek notes, ‘In the Old Testament the word or words designating the “land” appear more than 1,600 times, but in the New Testament fewer than fifty times.’ Another problem arises when discovering how the land promise is fulfilled, or begins to be fulfilled, in the New Testament. When Christ comes, announces the arrival of the kingdom and performs his saving work, he does not return believing people to a physical land as a mark of their redemption. Moreover, there is no mention of or emphasis on Christians migrating to Israel’s land. It appears, then, that the New Testament is silent when it comes to the Promised Land.

However, despite the relatively rare occurrences of the term ‘land’ in the New Testament, Gary Millar rightly notes that ‘the formative influence in biblical theology of the relational ideas associated with land must not be underestimated’. It is for this reason that concepts, not just words, in the New Testament are examined to synthesize the biblical data into a coherent theology of land, for in most cases the concept is far bigger than the words used to refer to it. As a result, the New Testament demonstrates the fulfilment of land in ways that are both similar and dissimilar to those found in the Old Testament.

Furthermore, it is not quite accurate to conclude that the New Testament has little to say about the land. Stephen Wellum writes:

First, the order in producing the new creation is reversed from that used in producing the old creation. In the old creation, God first made the place where we live, and then he made the creatures to live there. In the new creation, however, God first will make his new people, and then he will make the home where they will live. The priority of the New Testament is on how God is making a new people, and the land theme is secondary to this, even though it is clearly taught, especially in Revelation 21–22. Second, once the subject of land is placed within the larger discussion of the covenants, the New Testament has much more to say about the land than some may think.

In addition, the primary focus of the New Testament is on Christ and the inauguration of the kingdom. If the New Testament centres on the fulfilment of God’s saving promises in which

the Lord would reign over the whole earth, the son of David would serve as king, and the exile would be over. . . . The Lord would pour out his Spirit on all flesh, and the promise to Abraham that all nations would be blessed, to the ends of the earth, would become a reality,

then its focus is rightly on the King who brings this kingdom. Indeed, the New Testament makes clear from the beginning that God’s promises in the Old Testament reach their telos in Christ. Therefore a biblical theology of land that somehow bypassed Jesus Christ would be a contradiction in terms. To derive a coherent theology of land from the New Testament, then, one must also examine the general nature of the fulfilment of God’s promises in Christ.

The following chapters will examine the most relevant passages in the New Testament and argue that it presents an already–not yet fulfilment of the Promised Land in the Old Testament. More specifically, the New Testament presents the land promised to Abraham and his offspring as finally fulfilled in the (physical) new creation, as a result of the person and work of Christ. At this time in salvation history, however, the fulfilment is focused primarily on Christ, who himself has inaugurated a new creation through his resurrection and has made new creations out of those united with him. That is, in Christ God’s covenant presence and blessing is found, and those united to him by faith in his death and resurrection receive their inheritance, rest and indeed every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in him (Eph. 1:3). In the present, believers live as exiles (1 Peter 1:1; 2:11) between the inauguration and consummation of the kingdom and anticipate the final fulfilment and enjoyment of these covenant blessings in his presence in the new heaven and new earth won by the Lord Jesus Christ (Rev. 21 – 22).

Fulfilment in Matthew

The canonical shape of the New Testament provides a helpful link regarding the relationship between the Old Testament expectation of restoration and its fulfilment. Hamilton writes, ‘From the beginning, Matthew’s genealogy and narratives of the early life of Jesus establish connections between Jesus and the story of Israel at both prophetic and typological levels.’ Matthew begins, ‘The book of the genealogy [biblos geneseōs] of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham’ (1:1). Matthew’s genealogy is significant because the phrase biblos geneseōs (Hebr. seper tōlĕdôt) is found in only two other places in the Old Testament LXX (Gen. 2:4; 5:1). Thus Matthew opens by intentionally linking his own plot into the larger narrative that reaches back to the beginning. These two occurrences in the biblical story line, then, are important to consider in order to understand Matthew’s use of biblos geneseōs in 1:1.

Genesis 2:4 gives the account of God’s creation of the heavens and the earth, and Genesis 5:1 begins a new genealogical tree after the fall that emphasizes the continuation of humanity and a re-creation through the Noahic covenant. Thus it is momentous that Matthew 1:1 is only the third place in the canon where this phrase is used. Beale rightly notes:

That Matthew is, indeed, alluding to Genesis 2 and 5 is enhanced by observing that these are the only two places in the entire Greek OT where the phrase biblos geneseōs occurs. Matthew’s point in using this phrase is to make clear that he is narrating the record of the new age, the new creation, launched by the coming of Jesus Christ and ending in his death and resurrection.

In other words, Matthew’s introduction connects Jesus to the first creation, the post-fall re-creation where the image of God is proliferated, and now to the commencement of a new beginning – a new creation. This point leads Davies and Allison to translate Matthew 1:1 as ‘Book of the New Genesis wrought by Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham’. In effect, writes Luz, ‘Matthew sets out with a new “book of origins”, with a new Heilsgeschichte, or history of God’s actions in the world and in humanity’s salvation. It is as if he were writing the Bible anew.’ Through his genealogy, then, Matthew is weaving together key threads from the Old Testament. That is, he advances new creation themes through the genealogy of the Messiah and indicates the inaugural fulfilment of Old Testament promises.

However, Matthew does not include an exhaustive list of Jesus’ genealogical history, and the fact that Matthew is making Jesus’ history fit into a pattern indicates that this is not so much a statistical observation as a theological reflection on the working out of God’s purposes. It shows that the period of preparation is now complete, and that the stage is set for the dawning of the time of fulfilment in the coming of the promised Messiah. Moreover, it should be read in the light of two pivotal connections – he is the son of David and son of Abraham. That is, as the son of Abraham Jesus brings to fulfilment all God’s covenant promises and, even further, as the son of David Jesus brings God’s messianic rule as the one sent to establish God’s kingdom. The rest of Matthew will demonstrate how and through whom God has remembered his covenants to bring his kingdom promises to fulfilment.

Furthermore, Matthew paints a complete picture, from the beginning of Israel’s history to its end, or goal, by the way he frames his genealogy of the Messiah in three balanced periods of fourteen generations each. Hence Matthew points his readers to the arrival of the Messiah who has come in fulfilment of the Davidic promises of a kingdom and the Abrahamic promises of international blessing (cf. Matt. 3:9; 8:11). But Matthew goes further and includes the unexpected: the exile. Wright notes:

This is not so regular a marker within Jewish schemes, but for Matthew it is crucial. . . . Until the great day of redemption dawned, Israel was still ‘in her sins,’ still in need of rescue. The genealogy then says to Matthew’s careful reader that the long story of Abraham’s people will come to its fulfillment, its seventh seven, with a new David, who will rescue his people from their exile, that is, ‘save his people from their sins.’ When Matthew says precisely this in 1:18–21 we should not be surprised.

It appears that the long-awaited return from exile has dawned.

It is difficult to imagine, then, that for Matthew and his audience the fulfilment of the promises to Abraham and David, and the promised return from exile, do not include the land. Joel Willitts notes:

When one has references to the kingdom of God and Eretz Israel contained in a context that stands within the [Davidic/Israelite] restorative stream of tradition, it is likely that the hope for the restoration of the Promised Land is not far off.

Therefore Matthew’s references to the kingdom of God and the land should be seen within the ‘Land-Kingdom’ motif.

The first connection with land is found in Matthew 2:15 (cf. Hos. 11:1). In the context of Hosea, God is recalling the history of Israel, God’s son (Exod. 4:22–23), when he delivered them out of Egypt. This was in fulfilment of God’s promises of calling out a people and giving them their own land. But Hosea 11:2–7 goes on to lament how Israel has wandered away from the Lord and to predict the future return to exile (11:5). In other words, another exodus was needed. This exodus event became central in the life of Israel, to which later revelation would attest. As God’s revelation progressed through Israel’s successes and failures, an even greater exodus began to be anticipated. Within this typological milieu, then, Hosea is looking for a saving visitation from the Lord. Derek Bass writes, ‘The passage flows from retrospect to prospect, recalling the first exodus to the promise of new exodus. To be sure, the Exodus from Egypt forms the type or pattern of the promised salvation to come.’ This point is important, for what Matthew sees was already something Hosea himself had seen. That is, Matthew is not reading into Hosea what is not there; rather, he is rightly putting together God’s organic and progressive revelation in chronological order to demonstrate that God’s true Son has arrived to accomplish a greater exodus in fulfilment of his promises. Carson notes:

Hosea, building on existing revelation, grasped the messianic nuances of the ‘son’ language already applied to Israel and David’s promised heir in previous revelation so that had he been able to see Matthew’s use of Hosea 11:1, he would not have disapproved, even if messianic nuances were not in his mind at the time.

As a result, Matthew now sees Jesus as the locus of true Israel, which he goes on to show in Jesus’ testing in the wilderness, the giving of a ‘new law’ in the Sermon on the Mount, and his further use of ‘son’ language for Jesus.

It is at this point that one comes into contact with typology in Matthew. Blomberg notes:

That Israel had been delivered from Egypt, that Israel would again be exiled there but again restored, and that the child believed to be the messiah also had to return to Israel from Egypt formed too striking a set of parallels for Matthew to attribute them to chance.

Jesus is the typological fulfilment of Israel, for he is the true Israel who fulfils the promises made to Abraham and David. Hence the Messiah, God’s obedient Son, has come to perform a new and greater exodus for the people of God and restore them from exile (Hos. 11:10–11). In this greater exodus, not only will God bring his people out of bondage to sin, but he will also finally bring them into abundant blessing, something that Israel did not lastingly enjoy. Whereas Israel made it out of Egypt, they did not permanently enter into the land of blessing. Unlike the exodus under the leadership of Moses, then, through the liberating work of Jesus God definitively brings his people out of captivity and into the place of redemptive blessing. This new locus of blessing becomes clearer through the rest of Matthew’s Gospel.

The first appearance of ‘land’ is in Matthew 5:5, ‘Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.’ The verb ‘inherit’ in the Old Testament (Hebr. yāraš; LXX klēronomeō) is often linked to Israel’s entering into and possessing the land (e.g. Deut. 4:1; 16:20; Isa. 57:13). In this context, the specific reference is to Psalm 37:11:

But the meek shall inherit the land

and delight themselves in abundant peace.

A few observations are important for interpreting Matthew 5:5 and the use of Psalm 37. To begin, Psalm 37 is eschatologically oriented (vv. 18, 29). That is, the familiar theme of inheriting the land is projected forward and promised as a future hope to those who wait for the Lord and keep his way (v. 34). This motif is threaded throughout the entire psalm, to which appeal is made as a longed-for ideal. This eschatological orientation is further confirmed by the fact that Psalm 37 was already recognized as messianic in Jesus’ day (4QpPs 37). Likewise, the Beatitudes are framed within the eschatological context of the kingdom, which is both already and not yet. This inaugurated eschatology is evidenced by the repetition of the present blessing in verses 3 and 10 (‘for theirs is the kingdom of heaven’) and the future blessings that are framed between these bookends (‘for they shall’ in vv. 4–9). The tension between ‘now’ and ‘not yet’, threaded through the rest of the New Testament, also runs through the promises of Matthew 5:3–10. Hence Matthew is picking up and advancing the eschatological trajectory of Psalm 37.

It is unlikely, then, given the typological nature of the land promise in the Old Testament that Jesus is referring strictly to the geographical territory initially promised to Abraham and possessed – and lost – by Israel. That is, he appears to be interpreting the eschatological land inheritance of the psalm through the lens of other universalized texts in the Old Testament. As the Old Testament repeatedly demonstrates, the anticipation of entering into the land ‘ultimately became a pointer towards entrance into the new heaven and new earth (cf. Isa. 66:22; Rev. 21:1), the consummation of the messianic kingdom’. It is understandable, then, that Jesus interprets the fulfilment of these land promises in an eschatological light.

However, the fulfilment should not be spiritualized into some kind of non-territorial space. France heads in this direction when he writes, ‘There is a general tendency in the NT to treat the OT promise about “the land” as finding fulfilment in nonliteral ways, and such an orientation seems required here too.’ But for Matthew the culmination of God’s promises will result in the renewal of all things. For example, in response to Peter’s question concerning a reward for the disciples, Jesus replies, ‘Truly, I say to you, in the new world, when the Son of Man will sit on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel’ (19:27–28). The word translated as ‘new world’ or ‘renewal’ (palingenesia) is used only one other time in the New Testament (Titus 3:5), and here it has to do with the consummation of the kingdom. Turner comments:

Cosmic eschatological renewal is linked to Jesus’s previous stress on the priority of the created order in Matt. 19:4, 8. The moral disorder of the present world is contrary not only to God’s past creation but also to God’s future renewal of that creation. The end will renew the beginning; eschatology restores protology.

Earlier in Matthew, Jesus taught his disciples to pray that God’s (heavenly) kingdom would come to earth (Matt. 6:9–10). The hope for Jesus’ followers, then, is not an ethereal, non-physical existence, but the consummation of spiritual realities coming into effect on the earth. Likewise, in Matthew 19 the future place of Jesus’ disciples is not described as a destruction of the earth or a spiritual, non-physical kingdom, but a palingenesia, a new world (19:28). Thus the earth has a territorial connotation and the Beatitudes an eschatological dimension. When put together, Matthew describes an eschatological reborn earth for those in the kingdom. Amazingly, the ‘blessed’ in Matthew will inherit the earth (Matt. 5:5) – the kingdom of heaven (vv. 3, 10) – and though they mourn in the present, they will reign with Christ in the new earth.

Finally, in a passage laden with Old Testament imagery, Jesus lays claim to what was experienced, albeit temporarily, in Israel’s life in the land. Matthew records Jesus as saying, ‘Come to me, all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light’ (11:28–30). Jesus has chosen by his Father’s gracious will to reveal his kingdom truths, not to the wise and understanding of the world but to little children, the unlearned (vv. 25–26). Perhaps even more astonishing, however, is his gift of rest (anapausō). Rest, once promised and given by God to obedient Israel in the land, is no longer centred in a geographical territory. Rather, it is now bound up in and given by Christ, which testifies to his divine identity. Significantly, ‘you will find rest for your souls’ echoes Jeremiah 6:16, where it is the reward Yahweh offers to those who search for the good way and walk in it. Furthermore, the rest promised to David (2 Sam. 7:11) that was experienced under the temple-constructing reign of his son Solomon (1 Chr. 22:9) – only to be forfeited as a result of sin – is now given under the yoke of the true Davidic Son. It is now Jesus who invites others to enjoy his gift of rest. France rightly comments:

That Jesus now issues the same promise [of rest] under his own authority says much for the Christology underlying this extraordinary pericope. As in the beatitudes of 5:3–10, there is no doubt an eschatological dimension to the rest which Jesus offers, but that does not mean that the offer has no relevance to the problems encountered by disciples in this life; it is for the present as well as for the future, just as the ‘sabbath rest which still remains for the people of God’ in Hebrews 4:1–11 is nonetheless one which its readers are exhorted to enter into ‘today.’

Jesus now takes on the role of God in giving and fulfilling the promises of rest, which certainly brings to mind God’s rest after creation and Israel’s Sabbath rest. Jesus offers divine rest to the citizens of the kingdom of God, and will give it.

Now, at last, the burden and toil experienced in the garden after the fall (Gen. 3:17–29), under Israel’s slavery in Egypt (Exod. 6:6) and presently under the demands of Rome are relieved under ‘the gentle Revealer’ to whom the Old Testament rest pointed. This rest is given to and experienced by those who are related to Jesus. Hence the rest previously promised and enjoyed in the land is connected typologically in relation to Christ, who will give his rest in his eternal kingdom to those who come to him.

The end of Matthew (28:18–20) returns to the theme introduced at the very beginning (1:1). The blessings promised to Abraham and in him to all peoples of the earth are now to be fulfilled under the authority of Jesus the Messiah. As a result of Jesus’ definitive work, he now exercises his divine authority, given by his Father, in heaven and on earth by sending his disciple-making disciples ‘as an eschatological marker inaugurating the beginning of his universal mission’. This transnational mission has cosmic, eschatological implications. When people from all nations are discipled, a new humanity is formed. Obedience to Jesus’ mandate, then, fulfils the original creation mandate God gave to humanity’s first parents in the garden of Eden. Whereas Adam failed his commission, Jesus obediently fulfilled his. As a result, those now related to Jesus pray for God’s kingdom to come on earth and wait for their future inheritance of rest in the new world. In fulfilment of God’s covenant promises, then, the disciples will enjoy the Lord’s presence in their mission to possess all the nations of the earth, for Jesus will be with them always, ‘to the end of the age’ (v. 20). In other words, Jesus is Lord over both the land and his people.

Fulfilment in John

According to Gary Burge, John 15:1–6 is the ‘most profound theological relocation of Israel’s holy space’. Scholars have noted the prominence of the fulfilment motif in John, which permeates his Gospel leading up to this text. For example, Jesus is now the true dwelling place of God, the one who became flesh and dwelt (skēnoō) among us (1:14; cf. Exod. 25:8–9). He is the true temple (naos), so that now the resurrected Lord is the place where the glory of God is revealed, where his forgiveness and new life are experienced, and where fellowship with God is for ever enjoyed. Andreas Köstenberger notes:

[John’s] fulfillment Christology entails the recognition that physical locations of worship are inadequate (esp. 4:19–24) and leads to the conclusion that Jesus is now the focus of worship (9:38; 20:28). As the proper focus of worship, Jesus replaces any temple, implying that the Jerusalem temple is obsolete (11:48–52; 13–21). The silence regarding the temple in John 13–21 is a rhetorical device pointing to Jesus as its permanent replacement.

Furthermore, Jesus fulfils the Jewish Feasts (e.g. Tabernacles, Dedication, Passover). Hoskins notes:

Jesus’ fulfillment of the Jewish Feasts and the Temple dwells upon the nature and content of God’s provision for all his people. Jesus is and gives the true food and true drink that delivers believers from thirst and hunger. He demonstrates this by offering his flesh and blood for the life of the world and sending the Spirit to enrich believers with the salvific benefits of his sacrificial death.

He is also the true shepherd, in contrast to God’s unfaithful shepherds, whose role is patterned after God’s good shepherd, David (1 Sam. 17:34–36). In later revelation, this shepherd is identified with both David and Yahweh (Ezek. 34). Simply put, Jesus is the fulfilment of God’s saving promises and is now the holy place where God can be found.

Now, in John 15, Jesus says, ‘I am the true vine’ (v. 1). Vineyard imagery was common in the ancient world, and one familiar with the Old Testament would certainly understand the connection Jesus was making. The vineyard or vine was a symbol for Israel, God’s covenant people, and consistently stressed Israel’s disobedience and failure to bear fruit no matter how much God tended to and cultivated them. Thus God would judge Israel by the hands of other nations (Isa. 5). Surprisingly, though, in this ‘extended metaphor’ it is not a nation or people that fulfil Israel’s purpose; it is Jesus. Beasley-Murray comments:

It is striking that in every instance when Israel in its historical life is depicted in the OT as a vine or vineyard, the nation is set under the judgment of God for its corruption, sometimes explicitly for its failure to produce good fruit (e.g., Isa. 5:1–7; Jer. 2:21). . . . It seems likely therefore that the description of Jesus as the true vine is primarily intended to contrast with the failure of the vine Israel to fulfill its calling to be fruitful for God. That the vine is Jesus, not the church, is intentional; the Lord is viewed in his representative capacity, the Son of God – Son of Man, who dies and rises that in union with him a renewed people of God might come into being and bring forth fruit for God.

Indeed, Jesus is the true vine – the true Israel – and his disciples are now the branches, participants in Jesus.

For John 15, according to Carson, ‘perhaps the most important Old Testament passage is Psalm 80, in that it brings together the themes of vine and son of man’. This psalm is a prayer for the restoration of Israel, a vine that God brought out of Egypt, planted and blessed in the land (vv. 8–9). Just as God had delivered and planted his people in the past, so the psalmist is praying for salvation in the future, which certainly included restoration to the land. However, John 15 indicates that a redemptive-historical shift has taken place. The true vine now is not apostate Israel but Jesus himself, and the place of blessing is in him. Now, if exiled Israel want to be restored, then they must be rightly related to Jesus and planted in him. Gary Burge comments:

[The people of Israel] cannot be rooted in the vineyard unless first they are grafted into Jesus. . . . Branches that attempt living in The Land, the vineyard, which refuse to be attached to Jesus will be cast out and burned (John 15:6). . . . God the Father is now cultivating a vineyard in which only one life-giving vine grows. Attachment to this vine and this vine alone gives the benefits of life once promised through The Land.

Thus the answer to the psalmist’s lament to be delivered and replanted has come through the true vine. Whereas blessing once flowed from the land, now blessing flows from Jesus, who enables his people to bear fruit and who goes to prepare a place for them (John 14:2). Significantly, the rest of the New Testament builds on these themes for the church, as God’s people live between the ages and await their final destination.

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