Read. Reflect. Write.

I was recently listening to a debate between Steve Gregg and Joel Richardson on the question: will Jesus reestablish a Davidic kingdom of Israel when he returns? As I listened, one issue stood out almost immediately. A number of New Testament passages were being cited with futurist assumptions already built into them, and those assumptions were never actually challenged. The case was not simply argued; it was, at key points, presupposed. The central claim being advanced was straightforward. Christ is not yet reigning in any meaningful sense because the world is still filled with evil, disorder, and rebellion. Therefore, He must return in the future to establish His kingdom, understood as a visible, earthly Davidic reign in which such conditions no longer exist. That argument has an intuitive appeal. But it rests on a definition of “reign” that Scripture itself does not use. The pushback typically takes the form of a question: if Christ is reigning now, why does the world stil...

Matthew 16:27–28 is one of the most debated sayings of Jesus in the Synoptic Gospels. Though the Transfiguration is often presented as the fulfillment of Matthew 16:27–28, the argument below shows that this reading does not cohere well with the passage’s grammar, context, or Danielic background. The view has a long pedigree and appears attractive due to narrative proximity. A careful examination of the immediate context and Matthew’s broader use of “Son of Man” language suggests a different conclusion. Matthew 16:27 reads: “For the Son of Man is going to come in the glory of his Father with his angels, and then he will repay each according to what he has done.” The language draws directly from Daniel 7:13–14, where the Son of Man comes before the Ancient of Days and receives dominion, glory, and a kingdom. The reference to angelic accompaniment and recompense places the saying within a judicial framework. Jesus describes a coming that includes judgment and repayment. Verse 28 follows i...

For the past 8 months, I’ve been working on an academic essay titled Reframing Romans 11:25–27: Gentile Fullness and the Salvation of Israel in Paul’s Generation . The core question driving the project is a familiar one: What does Paul mean by “the fullness of the Gentiles,” and how does that relate to the salvation of “all Israel”? A common interpretation—especially in futurist and dispensational readings—understands the “fullness of the Gentiles” as a massive, end-of-history ingathering of Gentile converts, followed by a large-scale conversion of ethnic Israel at some distant point in the future. The problem, however, is that this scenario remains perpetually deferred. Two thousand years later, the fulfillment is always still just ahead. My argument is that there is a more coherent way to read Romans 11:25–27—one that takes seriously the New Testament’s own redemptive-historical framework and the expectations shared by its authors. In th...

While reading Hebrews 12:22–29 the other day, the language and references began to generate a series of familiar associations. Zion led to angels, angels to judgment, and judgment—almost inevitably—back to Matthew’s Olivet Discourse. From there, Daniel and Paul quickly came into view. Rather than feeling scattered, these connections reinforced a pattern evident across the New Testament, namely, that Scripture clarifies Scripture and in doing so shapes the contours of its own eschatological claims.      Hebrews (12:22–29) speaks with striking confidence about where its readers already stand. They have come to Mount Zion, to the city of the living God, to the heavenly Jerusalem. This is not presented as a destination awaiting fulfillment, but as a present covenantal reality. What follows reinforces that point: angels gathered in festal assembly, the assembly of the firstborn, God identified as Judge, and the spirits of the righteous made perfect. The emphasis throughout is ...

A few days ago, I shared a brief statement from Gary DeMar on Facebook: “The great tribulation mentioned in Matthew 24:21 took place before that generation passed away. Verse 34 demands it.” I simply replied, “Yup.” Shortly afterward, a pastor who opposes preterism responded, claiming that “verse 34 does not demand it,” and posted a lengthy excerpt from an article to support his objection. What follows is a summary of the key ideas from his critique, and then my rebuttal. I do not address every minor detail of his post, because the central issue—his handling of “all these things” and the structure of the discourse—renders the rest of his points irrelevant. Before offering a response, it’s helpful to note the main thrust of the critique I’m addressing. The critic argues that “all these things” in Matthew 24:34 does not include the coming of the Son of Man in vv. 29–31, but refers only to preliminary first-century signs. On this basis, he separates vv. 29–31 into ...

In the New Testament Gospels, the only times the disciples ever seem confused about what Jesus is saying are the parables. But notice—never in the Olivet Discourse do they stop, scratch their heads, or ask for clarification. It’s almost as if they actually understood him. Meanwhile, modern commentators twist themselves into knots imagining all kinds of futuristic, cosmic scenarios that the text itself never hints at. Yet Jesus looks straight at his disciples, speaks in the second person plural, tells them what they will see, and caps it all off with the unmistakable phrase, “this generation will not pass away until all these things take place.” Taken together, it’s a lock-solid case that the disciples knew exactly what he meant—and that what he described had everything to do with their generation, not some far-off future they’d never live to see. And if you step back and actually think through what’s going on here, the logic is pretty airtight. You don’t even need...

This essay is adapted from my article, Redemption Accomplished and Applied: Kingdom Inauguration and New Creation in Isaiah 65–66 . The complete version contains the full footnote material not included here. Introduction  In biblical studies, particularly when exploring eschatological themes like the “new heavens and new earth” promised in Isaiah 65:17–25, the Greek term   stoicheia   (often translated as “elements”) plays a pivotal role in New Testament passages. This phrase from Isaiah has historically been debated: Does it foretell a literal cosmic re-creation, or does it symbolize covenantal renewal through divine judgment and restoration? Building on a redemptive-historical reading—often aligned with partial preterism—this interpretation views Isaiah’s vision as the inauguration of God’s kingdom, fulfilled in Christ’s first advent and progressively applied through the Spirit’s work in the covenant community.      This perspective extends to the Ne...