Author Archives: Phillip Powers
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On Knowing Jesus through the Old Testament: A Book Review
Wright, Christopher J. H. Knowing God through the Old Testament. Second Edition. Grand Rapids: Intervarsity Press, 2014.
Who was Jesus? How should he be understood? It has become almost a truism among historical Jesus scholars that Jesus must be understood within the context of Second Temple Judaism. He was a man of his own time, and this means that his teachings, actions, and self-understanding must be interpreted against the backdrop of first-century Jewish beliefs and expectations. More specifically, Jesus’s understanding of his own identity and mission was profoundly shaped by Israel’s Scriptures, what Christians know as the Old Testament. Although this observation may seem obvious, its importance is frequently overlooked. There remains a widespread tendency in modern discussions to disconnect Jesus from his Old Testament background, resulting in a portrait of Jesus that is neither historically satisfying nor theologically coherent. In Knowing Jesus through the Old Testament, Christopher J. H. Wright seeks to correct this tendency by situating the person and work of Jesus firmly within the unfolding story of Israel’s Scriptures. First published in 1992 and now available in a revised second edition as of 2014, Wright’s work has become something of a modern classic in biblical theology. Therefore, it is the thesis of this review that Knowing Jesus through the Old Testament succeeds admirably in demonstrating that Jesus’s identity and mission can only be fully understood against the backdrop of Israel’s Scriptures, even if some aspects of Wright’s approach invite further discussion.
Wright’s essential thesis is that Jesus’s understanding of himself and his mission was profoundly shaped by his study of and reflection upon the Old Testament Scriptures. In other words, Jesus repeatedly presents himself as the fulfillment of Israel’s story in ways that demonstrate his unique identity as the Christ, the Son of the living God. Wright develops this thesis by examining the major themes of the Old Testament that converge in the person and work of Jesus. He begins with Israel’s story itself, arguing that Jesus consciously understood his life and ministry as the climax of God’s covenant dealings with his people. From there, Wright explores Jesus’s identity as Israel’s Messiah and Davidic King, showing how the hopes and expectations of the Old Testament find their fulfillment in him. He then turns to the mission of Jesus, demonstrating that Christ’s proclamation of the Kingdom of God, his suffering, death, and resurrection, and his calling of disciples all stand firmly within the trajectory established by Israel’s Scriptures. Throughout the book, Wright carefully weaves together themes such as covenant, kingdom, redemption, mission, and fulfillment in order to show that the Old Testament is not merely a collection of predictions about Jesus but the very theological framework through which Jesus understood his own identity and vocation. The result is a compelling portrait of Jesus that is both historically grounded in first-century Judaism and deeply rooted in the unfolding story of God’s redemptive purposes revealed throughout the Old Testament.
The greatest strength of Wright’s work lies in its thoroughly canonical and biblical-theological approach to the person of Jesus. Rather than treating the Old Testament as a collection of isolated messianic proof texts, Wright demonstrates that Jesus understood himself within the unfolding story of Israel. The significance of Jesus’s identity and mission, therefore, cannot be grasped apart from the covenant, kingdom, promises, and expectations established throughout the Old Testament. This approach not only reflects the way Jesus himself repeatedly interpreted his ministry, but it also provides readers with a richer and more coherent understanding of the unity of Scripture. Closely related to this is Wright’s remarkable ability to integrate historical context, theological reflection, and biblical theology into a single, compelling presentation. He consistently situates Jesus within the world of first-century Judaism while never losing sight of the larger redemptive story that stretches from Genesis to Revelation. As a result, the reader comes away with a portrait of Jesus that is historically grounded without becoming reductionistic and theologically profound without becoming overly speculative. Another significant strength is Wright’s emphasis upon the continuity between Israel, Jesus, and the church. Rather than presenting Christianity as a departure from the Old Testament, he shows that the mission of Jesus represents the fulfillment of God’s covenant purposes for Israel and, through Israel’s Messiah, extends those blessings to the nations. Finally, despite engaging substantial theological themes, Wright writes with exceptional clarity and accessibility. His prose is straightforward, his arguments are well organized, and his illustrations are both helpful and memorable. This makes for easy and enjoyable reading from beginning to end.
Of course, no book is without its limitations, and Knowing Jesus through the Old Testament is no exception. Perhaps the most noticeable weakness is that Wright’s broad biblical-theological synthesis occasionally comes at the expense of detailed exegetical interaction with individual texts. His purpose is clearly to present the larger contours of the Old Testament’s witness to Christ rather than to defend every interpretive conclusion in detail. Nevertheless, readers looking for sustained engagement with particular passages or with competing scholarly interpretations may occasionally find themselves wanting more. Closely related to this is the fact that some themes receive considerably more attention than others. Wright’s discussions of covenant, kingdom, and Israel’s story are among the strongest sections of the book, while other important Old Testament motifs could have been explored in greater depth. Likewise, although Wright consistently situates Jesus within the world of first-century Judaism, greater interaction with developments in Second Temple Judaism would have further strengthened certain aspects of his argument by demonstrating more explicitly how Jesus both fulfilled and challenged the expectations of his contemporaries. Finally, Wright occasionally moves rather quickly from Old Testament themes to their fulfillment in Christ, assuming typological connections that many readers will readily accept but that others may have wished to see defended more fully. Even so, these observations do little to diminish the overall value of the work. They reflect the inevitable limitations of a synthetic volume rather than any significant weakness in Wright’s central thesis.
In the final analysis, Knowing Jesus through the Old Testament is a compelling and important contribution to biblical theology. Wright reminds us that Jesus did not appear in history as the founder of a new religion or as a figure detached from Israel’s past. Rather, he came as the fulfillment of God’s covenant purposes, bringing Israel’s story to its divinely intended climax. By consistently situating Jesus within the theological world of the Old Testament, Wright demonstrates that the Scriptures of Israel are not merely the background to the New Testament but the indispensable foundation for understanding the identity, mission, and message of Jesus Christ. In an age when the Old Testament is too often neglected or treated as merely preparatory to the New Testament, Wright reminds readers that the story of Jesus cannot be separated from the story of Israel, for the latter finds its fulfillment in the former. For this reason, I would readily recommend this book to pastors, seminary students, Bible teachers, and thoughtful Christians who desire a richer understanding of the unity of Scripture and the centrality of Christ within God’s redemptive plan. Though readers may occasionally wish for more detailed exegetical interaction or greater engagement with certain scholarly discussions, these minor limitations do little to diminish the book’s overall contribution. If readers come away from this volume with a renewed appreciation that the Old Testament is essential for understanding the person and work of Jesus Christ, then Wright will have accomplished precisely what he set out to do. Few books succeed so well in helping readers know Jesus by first learning to read him through the Scriptures that he himself loved, studied, and fulfilled.
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On the Meaning of “This Generation” in the Gospels
When it comes to the eschatology of the historical Jesus, one of the most vexing questions concerns his repeated references to “this generation.” Few phrases have generated more debate in biblical studies. For example, what does Jesus mean when he says that the men of Nineveh and the queen of the South will rise up at the judgment and condemn “this generation”? (Matt. 12.39–45) Or when he declares that “all these things” will come upon “this generation,” who exactly is he talking about? (Matt. 23.36; 24.34) Discussions of these texts often focus on questions of chronology and fulfillment. We ask whether Jesus is referring to his contemporaries or to some future generation, and we speculate about when these events are supposed to occur. It is a question that has confounded even some of the greatest biblical scholars. In this post, I would like to revisit the issue, not because I am a great biblical scholar, but because I believe the discussion often overlooks an important biblical-theological dimension. I would suggest that “this generation” does indeed refer to Jesus’ contemporaries, but it functions as more than a simple chronological marker. Rather, Jesus employs the phrase to identify his contemporaries with the recurring biblical pattern of the rebellious generation that rejects God’s messengers and stands under covenant judgment.
Of course, at first glance, the meaning of “this generation” seems rather straightforward. Throughout the Gospels, the phrase consistently refers to those living during Jesus’s earthly ministry. For example, in Matthew 11:16, Jesus asks, “To what should I compare this generation? It’s like children sitting in the marketplaces who call out to other children.” Clearly, Jesus is reflecting upon the unbelief of his contemporaries and their rejection of both John the Baptist and himself. Or again, in Matthew 23:36, when Jesus declares, “Truly I tell you, all these things will come on this generation,” he is speaking directly to the religious leaders who stand before him. Texts such as these make it difficult to sustain interpretations that remove the phrase entirely from its first-century context. Jesus is not speaking primarily about a distant future generation but about the people of his own day. The crowds, the scribes, the Pharisees, and the religious leaders who heard his teaching constitute the immediate referent of the phrase. In other words, “this generation” is first and foremost a historical designation. Yet, as we shall see, it functions as more than a mere chronological marker. The phrase carries a theological significance that reaches beyond the simple identification of a particular group of people living at a particular moment in history.
This becomes even more apparent when we observe that Jesus rarely speaks of “this generation” in a neutral sense. Rather, he repeatedly describes it as an “evil and adulterous generation” (Matt. 12:39; 16:4) or as an “unbelieving generation” (Mark 9:19). These are not merely chronological descriptions; they are moral and theological evaluations. Jesus is not simply identifying the people who happen to be alive during his ministry. He is characterizing them according to their response to God’s revelation. Their defining feature is not that they belong to a particular moment in history, but that they have rejected the message of God’s prophets, resisted the ministry of John the Baptist, and refused to recognize the Messiah standing in their midst. In this sense, “this generation” functions as more than a temporal designation. It becomes a moral and covenantal category that describes a particular posture of unbelief and rebellion toward God. Indeed, the repeated use of terms such as “evil,” “adulterous,” and “unbelieving” suggests that Jesus is intentionally placing his contemporaries within a much larger biblical pattern. The question, then, is not simply who “this generation” is, but what kind of generation it is. And it is precisely here that the Old Testament background becomes crucial, for the language Jesus employs has deep roots in the Scriptures’ recurring depiction of “the generation of the wicked.”
The Old Testament repeatedly speaks of the “wicked generation,” and this theme stretches all the way back to the book of Deuteronomy. This is especially evident in Deuteronomy 32, where Moses describes Israel as a “crooked and perverse generation” (Deut. 32:5) and later speaks of them as a generation marked by faithlessness and rebellion (Deut. 32:20). This language is taken up again in the Psalms. For example, Psalm 78:8 describes the wilderness generation as “a stubborn and rebellious generation, a generation whose heart was not loyal and whose spirit was not faithful to God.” What is striking is that these texts are not merely concerned with identifying a particular group of people who happened to live at the same time. Rather, they are describing a recurring pattern of covenant rebellion. The wilderness generation rejected God’s Word, resisted God’s appointed leaders, refused to trust his promises, and consequently experienced his judgment. As a result, the wilderness generation became a paradigm for later generations of Israelites who repeated the same sins. Thus, in the Old Testament, the concept of a “generation” often carries theological significance beyond mere chronology. It becomes a covenantal category describing those who persist in unbelief and opposition to God’s purposes. This Old Testament background provides the conceptual framework for understanding Jesus’s repeated references to “this generation” in the Gospels.
The point of all this is that when Jesus speaks of “this generation,” he is making precisely this kind of moral and covenantal judgment. This is why he can declare, “that this generation may be held responsible for the blood of all the prophets shed since the foundation of the world—from the blood of Abel to the blood of Zechariah” (Luke 11:\.50–51; cf. Matt. 23.35–36). Clearly, Jesus is not suggesting that his contemporaries were personally present when Abel was murdered or when Zechariah was killed. Rather, they stand in continuity with those earlier generations because they are committing the very same acts of covenant rebellion. Indeed, in Matthew’s account, Jesus tells the religious leaders, “You are sons of those who murdered the prophets” (Matt. 23.31). They are not merely descended from their fathers biologically; they are following in their fathers’ footsteps spiritually. Just as earlier generations rejected God’s messengers, so now Jesus’s contemporaries reject John the Baptist, oppose Jesus himself, and will soon persecute his apostles. When Jesus reads Israel’s Scriptures, he sees a recurring pattern of covenant infidelity that reaches from the wilderness generation through the prophets and culminates in his own day. His contemporaries therefore represent not simply another generation in Israel’s history but the climactic manifestation of the rebellious generation. It is for this reason that they stand under the same covenantal judgment that had fallen upon those who came before them.
Of course, it is precisely this covenantal judgment that Jesus predicts in the Olivet Discourse (Matt. 24; Mark 13; Luke 21), where he declares, “Truly I tell you, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things take place” (Matt. 24:34). If the preceding discussion is correct, then this statement should not be understood merely as a chronological marker but as the culmination of the biblical pattern we have already traced. Because Jesus’ contemporaries embody the recurring motif of the rebellious generation, the coming judgment upon Jerusalem is neither arbitrary nor unexpected. Rather, it follows the well-established pattern of covenant history. Just as the wilderness generation experienced God’s judgment for its unbelief, just as the northern kingdom was judged for its covenant unfaithfulness, and just as Judah ultimately fell under divine judgment for rejecting God’s prophets, so also Jesus announces that “this generation” will experience covenant judgment in the destruction of Jerusalem. The judgment falls upon a specific historical generation living in the first century, yet that generation simultaneously represents the climax of a much larger biblical pattern. Jesus’ words, therefore, are historically specific while at the same time theologically rich. They announce the judgment of his contemporaries precisely because they have become the latest—and greatest—manifestation of the generation that continually rejects God’s revelation and resists his redemptive purposes.
Understanding “this generation” in this way also helps us see why the phrase remains relevant today. The issue is not merely one of chronology but of response to God’s revelation. Throughout the Scriptures, the “generation of the wicked” is characterized by unbelief, the rejection of God’s Word, resistance to his appointed messengers, and ultimately opposition to his redemptive purposes. Jesus identifies his contemporaries with that pattern because they rejected the Messiah standing before them. Yet the pattern itself did not end with the destruction of Jerusalem. It continues to reappear wherever men and women harden their hearts against God’s Word and refuse his gracious call to repentance. In this sense, every generation must ask whether it will follow the path of covenant faithfulness or repeat the rebellion of those who came before. More than that, Scripture teaches that history is moving toward a final day of judgment when Christ will return to judge the living and the dead. Just as the generation of Jesus’s day experienced a historical judgment in the destruction of Jerusalem, so also the final generation will stand before God’s ultimate judgment at the return of Christ. The warning of “this generation,” therefore, is not confined to the first century. It continues to summon every generation to repent, believe the gospel, and receive the King whom God has sent.
In the final analysis, then, “this generation” should not be understood as merely a chronological expression nor as a reference to some distant future generation. It refers first and foremost to Jesus’ contemporaries, the men and women who heard his preaching, witnessed his miracles, and ultimately rejected him as Israel’s Messiah. Yet Jesus deliberately frames them within the larger biblical category of the rebellious generation that recurs throughout the Old Testament. Like the wilderness generation before them, they resisted God’s Word, rejected his appointed messenger, and consequently stood under covenant judgment. The destruction of Jerusalem, therefore, was not an arbitrary historical tragedy but the covenantal consequence of a pattern of rebellion that had reached its climax in the rejection of God’s Son. At the same time, the warning extends beyond the first century. Every generation must decide how it will respond to God’s revelation in Christ, for history is moving toward that final day when the righteous Judge will return. The question is not simply whether we understand who “this generation” was, but whether we will hear God’s Word, repent, and believe while there is still time.
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On Psalm 119.161-168 (Sin/Shin)
161 Princes have persecuted me without cause,
but my heart fears only your word.
162 I rejoice over your promise
like one who finds vast treasure.
163 I hate and abhor falsehood,
but I love your instruction.
164 I praise you seven times a day
for your righteous judgments.
165 Abundant peace belongs to those
who love your instruction;
nothing makes them stumble.
166 Lord, I hope for your salvation
and carry out your commands.
167 I obey your decrees
and love them greatly.
168 I obey your precepts and decrees,
for all my ways are before you.
The twenty-first stanza (ש/sin or shin, depending on the placement of the dot) continues the theme of suffering that we have encountered throughout the last several stanzas. Our psalmist opens with the observation, “Princes have persecuted me without cause.” Once again, we are not given all the details of his circumstances, but it is clear that his troubles originate from those who possess power and authority. It is often the case that the righteous suffer not because they have done anything wrong, but simply because they belong to God. Our psalmist finds himself opposed by the powers that be without just cause. Of course, this pattern runs throughout the history of God’s people and finds its fullest expression in the suffering of Jesus Christ, who “left you an example, that you should follow in his steps” (1 Pet. 2.21). As Jesus himself warned, “A servant is not greater than his master. If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you” (John 15.20). Yet in the face of this persecution, our psalmist does not surrender to fear, bitterness, or despair. Rather, he declares, “My heart fears only your word.” The princes may possess earthly authority, but God’s Word possesses ultimate authority. The defining feature of this stanza, therefore, is not the persecution itself, but the psalmist’s response to it. Instead of allowing his circumstances to govern his heart, he finds comfort, stability, and confidence in the promises of God.
This is perhaps why he says, “I rejoice over your promise like one who finds vast treasure.” The image is striking. Imagine the excitement of stumbling upon a fortune beyond anything you could have imagined. That is how our psalmist views the Word of God. He recognizes that true and lasting value is found not in possessions, accomplishments, status, or worldly comforts, but in the promises of God. Indeed, no earthly treasure can compare with the life-giving riches that are found in God’s Word. And this is cause for great joy, because no matter what difficulties may arise, we always have God’s promises to uphold and sustain us. This is an important lesson for us as well, namely that the value we assign to God’s Word reveals much about the orientation of our hearts. Are our hearts consumed by anxiety, fear, and uncertainty about the future, or are they resting in the promises of the one true and living God? Do we rejoice in God’s Word even when circumstances are difficult and answers seem far away? Our psalmist’s joy is not rooted in changing circumstances but in the unchanging faithfulness of God revealed through his Word.
And it is this treasuring of God’s Word that leads our psalmist to say in verse 163, “I hate and abhor falsehood, but I love your instruction.” This is strong language, but compared to the surpassing value of God’s truth, all falsehood must appear by contrast as hateful and abhorrent. Of course, this is not the language of emotional volatility or personal animosity. Rather, it is the language of covenant loyalty and moral commitment. Our psalmist’s love for God and his Word has shaped his affections in such a way that he delights in what is true and rejects what is false. Covenant love for God necessarily produces opposition to anything that contradicts his character and his revelation. Yet modern notions of love often seek to separate love from truth. Many assume that to love someone means affirming whatever they believe or shielding them from difficult truths. But the Scriptures know nothing of such a separation. Genuine love rejoices in the truth because truth ultimately leads us to God himself. For this reason, our psalmist refuses to separate love from truthfulness. To love God is to love what is true, right, good, and beautiful, and to reject whatever stands opposed to it.
Of course, this kind of love should stand at the very center of our worship, as our psalmist writes, “I praise you seven times a day for your righteous judgments.” In other words, our psalmist’s heart is so filled with covenant love and loyalty that he cannot help but burst forth in praise. The reference to “seven times a day” likely signifies more than a literal number. Throughout Scripture, the number seven often conveys the idea of fullness or completeness. The point, then, is that praise has become the regular habit of his soul. Worship is not an occasional activity reserved for certain moments or certain days of the week. Rather, it permeates the very fabric of his life. And we might be tempted to ask how such continual praise is possible in the face of unjust persecution and suffering. The answer is simple: God’s righteous judgments are continually before him. His mind is saturated with the truth of God’s Word, and his heart responds with worship. The more deeply Scripture shapes our thinking and affections, the more naturally praise emerges from our lives. This is because the ultimate goal of Scripture is not merely information but worship, not merely knowledge about God but joyful devotion to the God who has revealed himself in his Word.
Now, the result of this life of covenant loyalty, delight in God’s Word, and continual worship is what our psalmist describes in verse 165: “Abundant peace belongs to those who love your instruction; nothing makes them stumble.” This is perhaps the central affirmation of the entire stanza. However, we must be careful to understand what kind of peace the psalmist has in mind. He is not speaking of ease, comfort, or the absence of hardship. After all, he has already told us that he is being persecuted by princes without cause. His circumstances have not changed. The opposition remains. The suffering continues. Yet he possesses peace. This is because biblical peace is not primarily the absence of conflict but the presence of stability, wholeness, and confidence in God. It is the settled assurance that God remains faithful to his promises regardless of what may be happening around us. This is why peace belongs specifically to those who love God’s instruction. The Word of God anchors the believer amid the storms of life. It provides a sure foundation when everything else seems uncertain and unstable. As we have seen in the previous stanzas, our circumstances may remain difficult, our prayers may seem unanswered, and our suffering may continue for a season. Yet the foundation remains secure because God’s Word remains true. Peace, therefore, does not flow from our ability to control our circumstances but from our confidence in the God who governs them. The more deeply we trust his Word, the more firmly our hearts are established in peace.
Our psalmist concludes the stanza by reminding us why all of this is possible: “I obey your precepts and decrees, for all my ways are before you.” Though he is persecuted, pressured, and opposed by powerful enemies, he continues to rejoice in God’s Word, to praise God continually, and to walk in faithful obedience. More remarkably still, he enjoys a peace that transcends his circumstances. The reason for this confidence is that he lives Coram Deo, that is to say, before the face of God. His life is not hidden from the Lord. His sufferings are known. His prayers are heard. His obedience is seen. The God who gave these promises is the same God who remains present with his people and faithful to his covenant. This is why the stability of the believer is ultimately grounded not in favorable circumstances but in the enduring truth of God’s Word. Though the people of God may face opposition from every side, they possess a peace the world cannot give because their lives are anchored in the truth, presence, and faithfulness of the God who speaks.
For further study:
Introduction
Psalm 119.1-8
Psalm 119.9-16
Psalm 119.17-24
Psalm 119.25-32
Psalm 119.33-40
Psalm 119.41-48
Psalm 119.49-56
Psalm 119.57-64
Psalm 119.65-72
Psalm 119.73-80
Psalm 119.81-88
Psalm 119.89-96
Psalm 119.97-104
Psalm 119.105-112
Psalm 119.113-120
Psalm 119.121-128
Psalm 119.129-136
Psalm 119.137-144
Psalm 119.145-152
Psalm 119.153-160
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On Truth and Unity in the Southern Baptist Convention
Last week, Southern Baptists met in Orlando, Florida, for their annual meeting, and one of the most significant items of discussion was the proposed “Truth and Unity Amendment” to the SBC Constitution, introduced by Dr. Albert Mohler. The amendment would add language to Article III concerning the qualifications for churches that wish to remain in friendly cooperation with the Southern Baptist Convention. Specifically, it states that a cooperating church “does not act to affirm, appoint, or endorse a woman serving in the office or function of a pastor/elder/overseer, specifically preaching to the assembled congregation.” The rationale behind the proposal is that recent disputes concerning churches with women serving in pastoral functions revealed ambiguity in the Convention’s existing standards of cooperation. Supporters therefore argue that the amendment is necessary to provide greater constitutional clarity. As to the vote, the amendment received strong support from the messengers, passing by a margin of approximately 75 percent to 25 percent. Of course, this vote has generated widespread discussion both within and outside the Southern Baptist Convention. News feeds and social media reels have been filled with reactions, criticisms, endorsements, and predictions about what the amendment will mean for the future of the SBC. However, it seems to me that much of the discussion has been marked by confusion and misunderstanding. Many reactions appear to be responding more to headlines and assumptions than to the actual text of the amendment and the issues it seeks to address. In this post, I am not primarily interested in arguing for or against the Truth and Unity Amendment. Rather, I would simply like to offer a few observations that may help clarify what the amendment is, what it is not, and why some of the most common criticisms may not fully capture the nature of the debate.
First, it must be understood that the Truth and Unity Amendment has not actually been ratified. According to the SBC Constitution, amendments to the Convention’s governing documents must be approved by two consecutive annual meetings before they become part of the Constitution. Last week’s vote in Orlando therefore represents only the first step in a two-year process. While the amendment received strong support from the messengers, it must still receive the required two-thirds approval at next year’s annual meeting in Indianapolis before it can be officially adopted. Until that happens, the amendment remains a proposal rather than a constitutional provision. This distinction is important because much of the public discussion has proceeded as though the matter has already been settled. Several headlines and social media posts have suggested that the Southern Baptist Convention has formally enacted a new constitutional ban on women pastors or women in ministry. Procedurally speaking, however, that is simply not the case. The Convention has expressed its desire to move in that direction, but the constitutional process is not yet complete. There remains another year of discussion, debate, and deliberation before a final decision is reached. Whatever one’s position on the amendment, it is important that our discussions begin with an accurate understanding of where the process currently stands.
Secondly, many headlines and social media reactions seem to proceed as though the Southern Baptist Convention has never had a position on women serving as pastors. However, this simply is not the case. The Baptist Faith and Message 2000, which serves as the Convention’s official statement of faith, already affirms that the office of pastor is limited to qualified men. Article VI states, in part, “While both men and women are gifted for service in the church, the office of pastor/elder/overseer is limited to men as qualified by Scripture.” Nor is this a position that suddenly emerged in the year 2000. Rather, it reflects the historic understanding of Southern Baptists for the vast majority of the Convention’s existence. For this reason, the “Truth and Unity Amendment” is not attempting to create a new doctrine or introduce a novel theological position. The SBC has already spoken clearly on the question of the pastoral office. Instead, the amendment seeks to address a different issue altogether: how the Convention’s existing confession should be applied in questions of friendly cooperation. Put differently, the debate is not whether the SBC possesses a complementarian confession, but whether churches that affirm women in pastoral functions should be regarded as being in friendly cooperation with a convention whose official statement of faith limits the pastoral office to qualified men. The amendment is therefore best understood as an attempt to clarify constitutional standards rather than to establish new theological ones.
A third misunderstanding claims that “the SBC is trying to control local churches.” However, this reflects a fundamental misunderstanding of Baptist polity. One of the defining convictions of Southern Baptists is the autonomy of the local church. In other words, every local congregation is free to govern its own affairs under the lordship of Christ and the authority of Scripture. The Southern Baptist Convention possesses no ecclesiastical hierarchy. It cannot appoint or remove pastors, dictate church policies, or seize church property. Regardless of a church’s relationship with the SBC, it remains entirely free to call its own pastors and order its ministry according to its own convictions. For this reason, the Truth and Unity Amendment cannot actually force a church to do anything. A church that wishes to appoint a woman as a pastor remains free to do so. The question at stake is not church governance but denominational cooperation. Here it is important to distinguish between autonomy and cooperation. Just as a local church is free to determine its own practices, so also the Convention is free to determine the parameters of its cooperative fellowship. A church may choose a particular course of action, but the SBC may likewise determine whether that action is compatible with its understanding of friendly cooperation. The amendment, therefore, concerns denominational boundaries rather than denominational control. It seeks to answer the question, “What kinds of churches should cooperate together?” rather than “How should local churches govern themselves?”
Of course, another important clarification concerns women and their roles in the life of the church. As I noted above, several headlines and social media reactions have suggested that the Truth and Unity Amendment amounts to a formal ban on women in ministry. However, this is simply not what the amendment addresses. Southern Baptists have long affirmed that women play vital and indispensable roles in the work of the church. Women serve as missionaries, Sunday school teachers, women’s ministry leaders, counselors, and in countless other capacities. Indeed, the Baptist Faith and Message explicitly states that both men and women are gifted for service in the church. The specific question addressed by the amendment concerns the office of pastor/elder/overseer. The Baptist Faith and Message recognizes two church offices, that of pastor/elder/overseer and that of deacon, and it affirms that the office of pastor is limited to qualified men. This conviction is rooted in passages such as 1 Timothy 2.12 and 1 Timothy 3.1–7 among others, as Southern Baptists have historically understood them. While churches often use titles and ministry descriptions in different ways, the amendment seeks to clarify how the Convention understands the office and functions of a pastor in relation to friendly cooperation. The question, therefore, is not whether women can minister in the church, but whether certain pastoral functions are compatible with the SBC’s understanding of the pastoral office.
Lastly, several critics of the Truth and Unity Amendment have suggested that the amendment represents a distraction from more pressing concerns, particularly the issue of sexual abuse within churches. Some have even argued that Southern Baptists should not devote time and energy to questions of ecclesiology while such serious problems remain unresolved. To be clear, sexual abuse is a genuine evil, and victims deserve protection, justice, accountability, and compassionate care. These concerns should never be minimized, ignored, or treated as secondary matters. Churches and denominational leaders must continue to take them seriously. At the same time, it is important to recognize that these issues are not necessarily in competition with one another. The Southern Baptist Convention already possesses constitutional provisions addressing churches that facilitate abuse or protect abusers, and ongoing efforts to improve accountability should continue. However, the existence of one important issue does not automatically render every other issue unimportant. The Truth and Unity Amendment addresses a different question altogether, namely the Convention’s understanding of the pastoral office and the requirements for friendly cooperation. One may agree or disagree with the amendment itself, but it is not necessary to choose between addressing sexual abuse and discussing ecclesiology. A denomination is capable of addressing multiple concerns at the same time. The real question, therefore, is not whether sexual abuse matters more than ecclesiology, but whether Southern Baptists can pursue faithfulness in both areas simultaneously. I believe the answer to that question is yes.
In conclusion, whatever one’s position on the Truth and Unity Amendment may be, the discussion surrounding it will be far more productive if it is grounded in clarity rather than assumption. As we have seen, much of the public conversation has focused on claims that the amendment has already been ratified, that it establishes a new doctrinal position, that it threatens local church autonomy, that it bans women from ministry altogether, or that it somehow prevents Southern Baptists from addressing other important concerns. Yet none of these claims fully captures what the amendment is actually attempting to accomplish. Christians should strive to understand an issue before reacting to it, especially when that issue touches matters of theology, ecclesiology, and cooperation among churches. Careful reading, charitable engagement, and theological seriousness are always preferable to slogans, headlines, and social media outrage. Before we can decide whether the Truth and Unity Amendment is wise, unwise, necessary, or unnecessary, we must first understand what it actually says and what it is attempting to accomplish. Clarity should always precede controversy.
For further reflection on these issues, see:
On the Spiritual Gift of Pastoral Ministry
On Pastoral Ministry and Job Titles
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On the Gospel of the Kingdom and the Gospel of Jesus Christ
When Jesus stepped onto the scene in Galilee following the arrest of John the Baptist, he began preaching, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!” (Mark 1.15). His message focused on the arrival of the kingdom of God, the fulfillment of Israel’s prophetic hopes, and the call to repentance in light of God’s decisive action in history. Throughout the book of Acts and his epistles, however, the Apostle Paul repeatedly preached the gospel of Jesus Christ. His message emphasized the death and resurrection of Jesus, justification by faith, the forgiveness of sins, and the hope of resurrection. At first glance, these emphases can appear quite different. Jesus seems to proclaim the kingdom, while Paul proclaims Christ. Indeed, some scholars have argued that Paul transformed the original message of Jesus into something fundamentally different, shifting the focus from the kingdom of God to the person of Jesus himself. But are these really two different gospels? Must we choose between the message of Jesus and the message of Paul? It is my contention that the apparent tension disappears when both are understood within the broader framework of biblical eschatology. Far from proclaiming competing messages, Jesus and Paul announce the same good news from different vantage points within the unfolding drama of God’s redemptive plan.
Scholars of the historical Jesus are virtually unanimous in recognizing that the kingdom of God stood at the very center of Jesus’s preaching ministry. For example, in Matthew 4.23, we read, “Now Jesus began to go all over Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom, and healing every disease and sickness among the people.” Or again, in Matthew 24.14, Jesus declares that “this good news of the kingdom will be proclaimed in all the world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come.” For Jesus, the kingdom is nothing less than the reign of God breaking into history to accomplish his redemptive purposes. It is the fulfillment of Old Testament prophetic hopes such as those found in Isaiah and Daniel. Isaiah envisioned a time when God would restore his people, forgive their sins, defeat their enemies, and bring salvation to the nations. Daniel likewise anticipated the coming of the Son of Man, to whom would be given an everlasting kingdom that would never pass away. These hopes converge in the preaching of Jesus. The kingdom involves the liberation and vindication of God’s people, the defeat of evil, the forgiveness of sins, and the establishment of God’s righteous rule over all creation. In other words, Jesus did not merely announce a message of individual personal salvation; he announced the arrival of God’s long-promised reign and the fulfillment of Israel’s eschatological hope.
However, it is important to remember that Jesus never separates the kingdom from himself. He is the one true and rightful king, God’s anointed Messiah, and wherever the king is, there the kingdom stands. This is why Jesus could say to the Pharisees, when they asked him about the coming of the kingdom, “For you see, the kingdom of God is in your midst” (Luke 17.21). The kingdom was in their midst because the King himself stood among them. In other words, the kingdom is inseparable from the identity and mission of Jesus. This reality is evident throughout the Gospels. In the Son of Man sayings, Jesus identifies himself as the one who will receive dominion and an everlasting kingdom in fulfillment of Daniel 7. Likewise, in the kingdom parables, the growth and consummation of the kingdom are tied directly to his own ministry and mission. The same connection appears in the triumphal entry, where Jesus deliberately presents himself as Israel’s promised king, and again at the Last Supper, where he speaks of the coming kingdom in the context of his impending death. Far from being an unfortunate interruption of the kingdom program, the cross stands at its very center. Jesus understood that God’s reign would be established through his suffering, resurrection, and exaltation. The kingdom does not arrive apart from the King; it comes precisely through the saving work of the King himself.
This is precisely where the Apostle Paul enters into the discussion. Throughout his missionary ministry and epistles, Paul repeatedly proclaimed the good news of Christ’s saving work. In 1 Corinthians 15, he summarizes the gospel in its most basic form: Christ died for our sins, Christ was buried, Christ was raised on the third day, and Christ appeared to many witnesses (1 Cor. 15.1–8). At first glance, this emphasis on the death and resurrection of Jesus may appear quite different from Jesus’s proclamation of the kingdom of God. However, such a conclusion overlooks the fundamentally royal character of Paul’s gospel. Paul is not merely interested in what Christ accomplished; he is equally concerned with who Christ is. Again and again, he identifies Jesus as the promised Son of David, the Messiah, and the exalted Lord. For example, in Romans 1, Paul describes the gospel as being “concerning his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord, who was a descendant of David according to the flesh and was appointed to be the powerful Son of God according to the Spirit of holiness by the resurrection of the dead” (Rom. 1.3–4). Notice the royal language. Jesus is the Davidic king promised in the Old Testament, and his resurrection is the moment of his public vindication and enthronement. The point, then, is that Paul’s gospel is not less concerned with the kingdom than Jesus’s gospel. Rather, Paul focuses on the King through whom God’s kingdom has been established and through whom its blessings are now extended to the nations.
But the question remains: why the difference in emphasis? Why do Jesus and Paul sound so different in their proclamation of the gospel? The answer is that they stand at different points within the unfolding drama of redemptive history. The earthly ministry of Jesus occurs before the cross, before the resurrection, and before the ascension. He ministered primarily among Jews in Galilee and Judea, and therefore proclaimed a message that resonated deeply with Israel’s scriptural hopes and expectations. His preaching announced that the kingdom of God was at hand and that the promises spoken by the prophets were beginning to find their fulfillment. In other words, Jesus proclaimed what God was about to accomplish through his own person and work. Paul, by contrast, preached after these events had already occurred. He knew the crucified and risen Christ not merely as a future hope, but as a historical reality. Having encountered the exalted Lord on the road to Damascus, Paul devoted his ministry to explaining the significance of Christ’s death, resurrection, and exaltation for both Jews and Gentiles. Thus, Jesus announces the arrival of the kingdom, while Paul explains how that kingdom was established through the saving work of its King. The difference, then, is not one of substance but of historical perspective. Jesus proclaims the fulfillment that is coming; Paul proclaims the fulfillment that has come.
Of course, Paul is fully aware of the reality and significance of the kingdom of God. In fact, kingdom language appears throughout both his preaching and his letters. For example, in Colossians 1.13, he writes that God “has rescued us from the domain of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of the Son he loves.” Notice that for Paul the kingdom is not merely a future hope; it is a present reality into which believers have already been brought through their union with Christ. Likewise, when Paul arrives in Rome at the end of Acts, Luke tells us that “from dawn to dusk he expounded and testified about the kingdom of God” (Acts 28.23), and concludes the book by describing Paul as “proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ” (Acts 28.31). Significantly, Luke treats these two subjects as complementary rather than contradictory. The same pattern appears in 1 Corinthians 15.24–28, where Paul describes the consummation of history as the moment when Christ delivers the kingdom to the Father so that God may be all in all. The point is that Paul never abandoned kingdom theology; rather, he interpreted the kingdom through the death, resurrection, exaltation, and future return of Jesus. For Paul, the kingdom remains central because the King remains central.
In the final analysis, then, we can say that Jesus announced the kingdom, while Paul explained how that kingdom was established through the person and work of Christ. Jesus proclaimed its arrival; Paul proclaimed its accomplishment. Yet beneath these differing emphases lies a profound theological unity. Both Jesus and Paul understood God’s saving work as the fulfillment of Israel’s long-awaited hopes. Both proclaimed the reign of God breaking into history to accomplish redemption. Both understood forgiveness of sins, salvation for the nations, and the resurrection of the dead as essential features of God’s eschatological plan. The difference is not that Jesus preached one gospel and Paul another, but that each proclaimed the same gospel from a different vantage point within the unfolding drama of redemption. Jesus announced that the kingdom had drawn near because the King had arrived. Paul proclaimed that the kingdom had been inaugurated because the King had died, risen, and been exalted to the right hand of God. Thus, the gospel of the kingdom and the gospel of Jesus Christ are not rival messages but complementary perspectives on the same redemptive reality. To separate the kingdom from the King is to misunderstand Jesus, and to separate the King from the kingdom is to misunderstand Paul. Both stand together in proclaiming the fulfillment of God’s promises in Christ.
Ultimately, this discussion reminds us of the profound unity of the New Testament witness. Too often, Jesus and Paul are set against one another, as though they were proclaiming different messages or pursuing different theological agendas. Yet the testimony of the New Testament is remarkably consistent. The God who promised to establish his reign through Israel’s Messiah has done exactly that in the person of Jesus Christ. The kingdom that Jesus announced is the same kingdom that Paul proclaimed, and the salvation that Paul explained is the same salvation that Jesus came to accomplish. Rather than forcing a choice between the message of Jesus and the message of Paul, we should allow each to illuminate the other. When we do, we discover a single gospel centered on a single Savior, through whom God is fulfilling his promises and reconciling the world to himself.
Faith seeking Understanding 