As in the Days of Noah – Part 2

This is Part 2 of the essay. Part 1 and be found here:
As in the Days of Noah (Revisited) — Part 1
______________________________

Having examined what Scripture reveals about the days leading up to the flood, a natural question now presents itself. If Jesus described “the end of the age” as being like “the days of Noah,” should we expect to see similar conditions appear again? Do major turning points in history follow recognizable patterns? And could there be repeated attempts—across different ages—to corrupt or distort life, creation, or what Scripture calls “all flesh,” in ways reminiscent of the world before the flood?

To answer these questions responsibly, we must first consider how Jesus’ words would have been understood by those who originally heard them. The question He was answering was not abstract or distant. His disciples were asking specifically about the fate of Jerusalem, the Temple, and the close of the age they were living in. This strongly suggests that the first and most immediate application of Jesus’ warning points toward the events that culminated in the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD.

At the same time, Jesus’ use of the days of Noah invites us to look beyond a single moment in history. While 70 AD provides the primary historical reference point, the pattern He described may also offer insight into how similar dynamics have unfolded—and may yet unfold—at other critical moments in human history.

First Century AD:

When viewed this way, the parallels are striking. Like Noah’s generation, the people of Judea were given ample warning. Jesus warned openly and repeatedly. His apostles continued that warning after His resurrection, calling for repentance throughout the land. The message was not hidden, nor was it delivered at the last minute. There was time—decades of time—to respond. Yet, as in Noah’s day, the warnings were largely ignored.

Life, meanwhile, continued as normal. Religious routines carried on. The Temple still stood. Sacrifices were offered. Daily business went on uninterrupted. This mirrors Jesus’ description of the days before the flood, when people were eating, drinking, marrying, and planning for the future right up until judgment arrived. The problem was not a lack of information, but a refusal to take the warnings seriously.

Corruption had also become systemic. Before the flood, Scripture says that “all flesh had corrupted its way.” By the first century, corruption was no longer limited to individuals. Religious leadership had become compromised. Violence filled the land. False prophets multiplied, offering reassurance instead of truth. The system itself was breaking down, much as it had in Noah’s time.

What makes this comparison even more sobering is that, in both cases, people had a sense that something significant was coming. Noah’s generation had a defined window of time. First-century Jews were deeply aware of prophetic expectations and lived with an intense sense of anticipation. Yet knowing that judgment was approaching did not lead to repentance. Instead, it hardened positions, increased conflict, and deepened denial.

In this sense, the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD fits Jesus’ warning with remarkable precision. It was sudden, devastating, and avoidable—yet it came upon a people who believed they were secure.

A Pattern Repeated:

At the same time, Jesus’ use of the days of Noah does more than point to a single historical moment. It establishes a pattern. History shows that when warnings are ignored, corruption becomes normalized, and life appears “business as usual,” collapse often follows. These moments are not identical, nor do they all carry the same weight as the flood or the fall of Jerusalem. Still, they echo the same rhythm: patience, warning, refusal, and consequence.

This does not mean that every crisis marks the end of the world, or that every generation is uniquely evil. Rather, it reminds us that judgment often comes after long restraint, and that it usually arrives when people least expect it—not because it was unpredictable, but because the eventuality of the pattern repeating was dismissed.

Seen this way, Jesus’ warning is not meant to inspire fear or endless speculation. It is a call to awareness. The tragedy of Noah’s generation, and of Jerusalem in the first century, was not ignorance. It was inattentiveness. Life went on, signs were ignored, and warnings were treated as noise—until suddenly, they were not. This, more than anything else, is the enduring lesson of “the days of Noah.”

So what about our own day?

History shows that warnings are often ignored, and corruption—present in every age—gradually becomes accepted as normal. People may be disturbed at first by the direction society appears to be heading, but over time they adjust. Life goes on. Daily routines continue. What once caused concern slowly fades into the background and becomes “business as usual.” This pattern often holds for a season—until, suddenly, something breaks. The same rhythm repeats again and again: patience, warning, refusal, and consequence.

Throughout history, we see evidence of judgment following this same general pattern—though certainly not on the same scale as the flood or the catastrophic fall of Jerusalem in 70 AD. Movements, societies, and nations have continued to rise and fall, sometimes quite suddenly. What often begins as a sincere attempt to build a just and moral society, guided by high ideals, gradually gives way to corruption and deceit. Despite warnings and efforts to halt the decline, this erosion is frequently met with tacit approval or resigned acceptance. This eventually leads to further decline and then collapse.

Are things any different today? If we just look at this present generation and the numerous events occurring in recent years, I believe we can see that evidence of that same pattern. In just the past five years we’ve had the “Covid pandemic”—accompanied by frequent mention of needing to accept, “the New Normal.” During that same period we should have been aware of the numerous economic and political shifts—which in many cases, concentrated power and control into the hands of an elite few. And we could not help but be aware that something was majorly wrong. People had a sense that something significant must be coming—yet many chose to ignore and treat the warnings as nothing more than noise.

In recent years, and in addition to Covid, we have seen a series of unprecedented attacks on long-standing societal and cultural norms. By this I am referring to institutions and norms that were clearly accepted, understood and undisputed for centuries—marriage, sexual norms, and even basic biology including gender. Reality and truth itself are under attack by certain ideologies and world views that seem to be growing in public acceptance.  

In addition to the social pressures, a subject that cannot be overlooked is the intrusion of technology into the very fabric of living organisms. Such technology seems to carry the intention of creating, changing and/or manipulating the basic structures of life. Ever since the discovery of DNA we have seen growing efforts in this direction. History has shown us that as chaos builds, societies eventually collapse. There is still time for us today—but will the warnings be heeded before the pattern of collapse repeats yet again?
 

Tinkering with the Code of Living Cells

Earlier, I mentioned DNA and humanity’s growing desire to experiment with it and control it. This desire often comes from the belief that human intelligence and determination are enough to safely change living systems to suit our goals. History suggests that this confidence is often misplaced.

While it is true that DNA can be altered, far less attention is usually given to whether it should be altered, or what the long-term consequences might be. Again and again, new technologies are introduced before their full effects are understood. In many cases, unintended consequences only become clear later.

One area where this concern appears is in the food supply. Practices such as gene-splicing, cloning, laboratory-grown meat, and genetically modified crops are becoming increasingly common. At first glance, these developments may seem beneficial. However, they raise important questions that are rarely discussed.

Are these foods truly safe over the long term? Could they contribute to health problems, deficiencies, or unexpected side effects? Beyond personal health, there are also broader concerns. Instead of solving hunger, are these technologies always helping to meet the real agricultural needs of struggling nations? Or could they, in some cases, contribute to crop failure, dependency, or instability?

Another issue closely connected to DNA manipulation is control. Increasingly, seeds are patented and must be purchased each year rather than saved and replanted. This raises serious questions about who controls the global food supply and how vulnerable farmers and nations may become as a result.

The following statement from the National Library of Medicine highlights why caution is often urged in this area:

“As genetically modified (GM) foods are starting to intrude in our diet, concerns have been expressed regarding GM food safety… Animal toxicity studies with certain GM foods have shown that they may affect several organs and systems… many years of research with animals and clinical trials are required for this assessment.”
— National Library of Medicine (PubMed ID: 18989835)

Changing Humanity Itself

Beyond changing food or medicine, it is also important to consider efforts aimed at changing humanity itself. One movement often connected to this idea is called transhumanism.

If the term is unfamiliar, the website whatistranshumanism.org defines it this way:

“Transhumanism is a way of thinking about the future that is based on the idea that the human species, in its current form, is not the final stage of development, but an early phase.”

The definition continues by explaining that transhumanism seeks to move humanity beyond its current biological limits through science and technology, guided by what it considers life-promoting values. This description comes from Max More, one of the early voices associated with the movement.

Max More further defined transhumanism in two related ways. First, as an intellectual and cultural movement that supports the idea of greatly improving the human condition through technology. This includes efforts to slow or eliminate aging and to enhance physical, mental, and psychological abilities. Second, as the study of both the promises and dangers of technologies that aim to overcome human limitations, along with the ethical questions that come with using them.

The same source explains that the World Transhumanist Association later changed its name to Humanity+, while continuing to promote these same goals. At the center of the movement is the belief that humanity is still unfinished and can be reshaped.

As Humanity+ describes it:

“Transhumanists view human nature as a work in progress, something that can be improved and redesigned. Humanity does not need to be the final stage of evolution. Through responsible use of science and technology, transhumanists hope to eventually become posthuman—beings with abilities far beyond those of present-day humans.”

This raises an important question. What truly drives the desire to move toward a “posthuman” future? Is it mainly motivated by idealistic goals such as reducing suffering and extending life? Or does it reflect a deeper desire to escape the limits and vulnerabilities that come with being human?

Canada’s Approach:

If you think all this sounds a little farfetched, you may be surprised to know this topic is getting attention from our own Canadian Government – except there it is called “Biodigital Convergence” (see https://horizons.gc.ca/en/2020/02/11/exploring-biodigital-convergence/).

The Government of Canada website offers the following definition:

“Biodigital convergence is the interactive combination, sometimes to the point of merging, of digital and biological technologies and systems. Policy Horizons is examining three ways in which this convergence is happening.”

Further on in the website we read: “Biodigital convergence is opening up striking new ways to:

- Change human beings–our bodies, minds, and behaviours

- Change or create other organisms

- Alter ecosystems

- Sense, store, process, and transmit information

- Manage biological innovation

- Structure and manage production and supply chains

Under the heading “New ways to change human beings – our bodies, minds, and behaviours,” we find the following. This list is a small sampling of the points in the article:

“...Altering the human genome – our core biological attributes and characteristics

...Machine learning helps scientists predict which genes to target for editing

...Monitoring, altering and manipulating human thoughts and behaviours

...Neurotechnologies read brain signals to monitor attention and manage fatigue

...Digital apps can help enhance brain health

...New ways to monitor, manage, and influence bodily functions, as well as predict, diagnose, and treat disease

...Gene sequencing entire samples helps us understand complex environments such as the human microbiome

...Digital devices can be worn or embedded in the body to treat and monitor functionality

...eg. Amazon patent will allow Alexa to detect a cough or a cold

...Creating new organs and enhancing human functionality

...Biohacking with implanted digital devices to enhance bodily functions

...Nanobots and nanomaterials can operate and precisely deliver drugs within living creatures”

These examples show that biodigital convergence is not science fiction. It is an active area of research and policy discussion.

This leads to serious questions. What limits, if any, should exist when it comes to altering the human body and mind? At what point does treatment become enhancement? And how should society weigh the potential medical benefits against unforeseen and irreversible consequences as well as long-term ethical and spiritual concerns? Alongside these questions, and in keeping with our recent exposure to the Covid experience, should we be concerned with the ramped-up pursuit of potential bio-weapons?

Bio-Weapons and Injectables:

At great risk to themselves, many experts testified, and it can now be shown with a reasonable degree of certainty that the “SARS-CoV-2 virus” was manufactured in the laboratory. In addition, it was subject to “gain of function” study and modification. With the release of this pathogen into the general public, the so called pandemic was born. Here we have an example of man playing around with genetic material and creating one such bio-weapon.

We know the mRNA “vaccine” concept is one technology that is supposed to have the capability to “hack” and issue instructions to your DNA in order to produce certain protein strands. In essence, it hijacks your system to produce a piece of the pathogen. The idea is to stimulate the body’s immune system into producing anti-bodies. However, in the process, it appears that hacking the immune system in this manner has rendered the immune system less efficient at fighting other infectious processes. Might there come a day when we are no longer capable of fighting off infection at all—without the need for patented technology?

With all these unanswered questions in mind, is it unreasonable to entertain at least one additional question: Are we perhaps seeing the corruption of our flesh that could in some way resemble the corruption of all flesh in the days of Noah?

Rise and Fall of Nations

So does the deceit and corruption we see around us today mean we have reached the end? It might… however; it might also simply mean that a familiar cycle is repeating itself. Nations rise, prosper for a time, grow corrupt, ignore warnings to repent, and eventually collapse. In fact, this pattern reflects a central biblical theme: God’s sovereignty over the rise and fall of nations and kingdoms.

Examples of Biblical Foundations for This Pattern:

Job 12:23, This verse states the principle directly: “He makes nations great, and destroys them; he enlarges nations, and disperses them.” The Message translation renders it, “He makes nations rise and then fall, builds up some and abandons others.” This highlights God’s absolute authority over the destiny of peoples throughout history.

Acts 17:26, In the New Testament, the Apostle Paul echoes this theme, stating that from one man God “made every nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and He determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their lands.” This reinforces the idea that national rise and fall occur within God’s determined plan.

Jeremiah 1:10, The prophet Jeremiah was appointed by God with a commission “to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant” nations and kingdoms, illustrating God’s use of prophets—and even other nations—as instruments of judgment and restoration.

Daniel 2:21, Daniel affirms that God “changes the times and seasons; He removes kings and establishes them.” This book, which describes the succession of empires (Babylonian, Persian, Greek, Roman), reinforces the principle that all earthly rulers and kingdoms are subject to God’s ultimate authority.

These passages together emphasize several key truths:

Divine Judgment: The fall of nations is often portrayed as a consequence of wickedness, pride, and disobedience to God’s ways.

Human Power Is Temporary: Empires such as Assyria and Babylon, which once seemed invincible, eventually crumbled, showing the temporary nature of human power compared with God’s eternal kingdom.

Divine Sovereignty: Scripture consistently teaches that all authority ultimately comes from God, who oversees all creation—including the destinies of nations.

Conclusion:

I am not in any way saying that events (as we see them today) spell the end of the world. They might however, point to the end of an age. It might simply be that if all warnings are ignored, our western society fails and falls as it faces judgment. This has been the pattern humanity has unfortunately had to repeat many times—history bears this out. Certainly there is nothing in scripture to indicate this could not happen again. In fact, it very well could continue until the kingdom comes fully—“on earth as it is in Heaven.”

Covenant Errors Regarding Judaism:

A Common Evangelical Blind Spot

Most dispensational Evangelicals understand that Judaism changed after the destruction of the Temple in AD 70. However, they often do not fully recognize just how different modern Rabbinic Judaism is from the Temple-centered Judaism of the Second Temple period.¹

Their theological system assumes a basic continuity between the two, even though history shows a major transformation took place. This essay looks more closely at those changes, explains what they actually were, and considers how they have influenced thinking within the Evangelical movement.

Many popular dispensational timelines and charts show Daniel’s “seventy weeks” prophecy with a long gap. They depict the first sixty-nine weeks, then place a long sideways bracket or parenthesis labelled “Church Age,” followed by a future restoration of Israel’s prophetic program in a final seventieth week.²

This way of presenting the timeline makes the sharp distinction between Israel and the Church feel obvious and natural. These charts often treat the destruction of the Temple in AD 70 as simply one important historical event rather than allowing it to function as a decisive covenant-historical turning point.³

Because of this visual setup, the significant differences between Second Temple Judaism (centered on the Temple, sacrifices, and priesthood) and modern Rabbinic Judaism (a post-Temple form of Jewish life centered on synagogue worship, legal interpretation, and oral tradition rather than sacrifice and priesthood) are often minimized or overlooked.⁴ As a result, some readers assume modern Judaism is essentially the same as the Judaism of the Bible, rather than recognizing it as a distinct form that developed in response to the Temple’s destruction.

A covenant-fulfillment approach does not deny Israel’s importance or suggest that God has broken His promises. Rather, it argues that covenant faithfulness must be traced through changes in covenant form over time, not merely through covenant identity. In the Gospels, Jesus repeatedly speaks of the Temple leadership and the Temple system as facing judgment and coming to an end.⁵ Many historians and theologians have argued that Jerusalem’s fall in AD 70 functions as a public historical vindication of those prophetic warnings.⁶

From this perspective, AD 70 is not a minor footnote between biblical history and future prophecy. It marks a major dividing line—the end of the Temple-centered covenant order that had defined Jewish worship and life for centuries. The closing vision of the book of Revelation then presents not a return to those earlier forms, but the consummation toward which they had pointed: God dwelling with His people without temple mediation.⁷

This does not mean dispensational Christians ignore history or fail to value the promises of the Old Testament. It does mean, however, that these charts should be examined carefully. Their visual logic can quietly assume conclusions about Israel, Judaism, and God’s covenants that are not fully supported by first-century evidence.

A more historically attentive approach recognizes both continuity and discontinuity. It acknowledges what remained the same—Scripture, Jewish identity, and the worship of the one true God—while also taking seriously what changed: the loss of the Temple, the end of the priesthood, and the rise of rabbinic authority centered on synagogue life and interpretation. Recognizing both sides of this shift helps readers approach books like Matthew and Revelation with greater historical and theological clarity.

1. Where Dispensational Evangelicals Generally Agree with Covenantal Christians

Before addressing where dispensational frameworks create confusion about Judaism, it is important to acknowledge where real agreement already exists. Most dispensational Evangelicals are not ignorant of biblical history, nor are they dismissive of the Jewish world of Scripture.

Most dispensational Evangelicals correctly understand that ancient Israel is not the same as the Church. They recognize that Israel occupies a unique place in the biblical story and that the New Testament does not simply erase Israel’s identity or history. They also affirm that the Hebrew Bible is essential for understanding God’s purposes and that the Old Testament cannot be treated as irrelevant or obsolete.

Likewise, dispensational teaching generally acknowledges that Second Temple Judaism—the world in which Jesus lived and taught—was Temple-centered. Sacrifice, priesthood, and pilgrimage shaped Jewish religious life in a way that cannot be understood apart from the Temple in Jerusalem.⁸ Dispensational Evangelicals also recognize that the destruction of the Temple in AD 70 was a major historical event, not a minor footnote.

Because of this shared understanding, the disagreement is not primarily about historical facts. Rather, the difference lies in how those agreed-upon facts are interpreted and integrated into a theological framework.

2. Where the Interpretations Begin to Diverge: Continuity Assumed vs. Transformation Recognized

Although dispensational Evangelicals and covenantal Christians often agree on the basic historical data, they frequently draw very different conclusions from it.

Dispensational frameworks typically treat the destruction of the Temple as a significant interruption in Israel’s history, but not as the decisive conclusion of Israel’s covenant forms. The Temple system, priesthood, and sacrificial order are often viewed as temporarily set aside rather than brought to completion.⁹ As a result, Judaism after AD 70 is sometimes assumed to represent a form of continuity with biblical Judaism, even though its structures and sources of authority changed dramatically.

By contrast, covenantal and fulfillment-oriented readings tend to see AD 70 as a covenant-historical watershed. On this view, the loss of the Temple marks the public end of a Temple-centered covenant administration rather than a temporary pause.¹⁰ The disappearance of sacrifice and priesthood is not treated as an accident of history but as a transformation that requires theological explanation.

The disagreement, then, is not over whether God remains faithful to Israel, but whether covenant structures were meant to be resumed or consummated.

3. Where the Misunderstanding Usually Happens

Modern Judaism Assumed to Be Essentially Biblical Judaism:

In practice, many dispensational Evangelicals tend to treat modern Rabbinic Judaism as if it were essentially the same religious system found in the Old Testament and the New Testament period. While this assumption is often unstated, it shapes how prophecy, covenant continuity, and Israel’s future are commonly understood.

As a result, modern Judaism is frequently assumed to be a direct continuation of Old Testament faith, the same religious system Jesus confronted in the Gospels, or a covenant structure that has been temporarily paused rather than fundamentally transformed. These assumptions then give rise to familiar conclusions, such as:

-  that Israel remains fully under the Mosaic covenant,

-  that Temple worship and sacrifice must eventually resume because they were never truly brought to an end,

-  or that Judaism today is essentially “Old Testament religion without Jesus.”

Because of such assumptions and conclusions, dispensational teaching often skips directly from: “Temple destroyed”—to—“Temple will be rebuilt.” This skip is often made without pausing to ask: “What has Judaism actually become in the meantime?”

Modern Judaism is not Temple-centered, does not operate with a priesthood or sacrificial system, and derives its authority primarily from rabbinic interpretation rather than from the covenant structures described in the Torah.¹¹ These differences are not minor adjustments but represent a major reconfiguration of Jewish religious life following the destruction of the Temple.

Recognizing this distinction does not require rejecting Israel’s importance or denying God’s faithfulness. It simply requires acknowledging that Judaism itself changed form, and that treating modern Rabbinic Judaism as though it were unchanged biblical Judaism can obscure how Scripture, history, and covenant development actually intersect.

4. The Theological Reason for the Gap

This misunderstanding is not accidental. It is built into the structure of dispensational theology itself.

Classic dispensationalism depends on several interlocking assumptions about Israel, covenant history, and prophetic fulfillment. Chief among these are the ideas that:

     -  Israel’s covenant system was interrupted, not fulfilled,
-  the Mosaic order is on hold, not concluded,
-  the Church age functions as a parenthesis in God’s plan,
-  and that Temple worship including Temple sacrifice¹² must therefore return in the future.

Within such a dispensational framework, the destruction of the Temple in AD 70 cannot be allowed to function as a decisive covenant ending. It must instead be treated as a temporary disruption—an unfortunate historical event that pauses Israel’s program but does not complete it.

If one were to fully acknowledge that:

     - the Temple system ended decisively, 
-  Judaism itself restructured because that system could no longer function,
-  and covenant forms were replaced or fulfilled, not merely postponed,

dispensationalism would then lose one of its load-bearing assumptions. The expectation of a future restoration of Mosaic institutions—including Temple sacrifice—depends on the belief that those institutions were never truly brought to their intended conclusion.

For this reason, dispensational systems tend to incentivize continuity language, even where the historical evidence points to profound discontinuity. This is not usually the result of bad faith, but of theological necessity: the system requires continuity of covenant form in order to sustain its prophetic expectations.

5. What Dispensational Evangelicals Usually Miss

As a result of these theological commitments, many dispensational Evangelicals fail to fully grasp several key historical realities.

First, Judaism today is not the religion of the Old Testament. The Torah describes a Temple-centered system of sacrifice, priesthood, and ritual purity that no longer exists and has not existed since AD 70.

Second, modern Judaism is not even the same religious system Jesus confronted. The Judaism of Jesus’ day was diverse but still anchored to the Temple. Rabbinic Judaism, by contrast, emerged only after the Temple’s destruction and reorganized Jewish life around synagogue worship, legal interpretation, and oral tradition.

Third, Judaism as practiced today is best understood as a post-70 AD survival form, shaped by loss rather than continuity of structure. It represents a faithful attempt to preserve Jewish identity and obedience to God in the absence of the institutions the Torah presupposes.

Finally, the authority structure of modern Judaism is rabbinic, not Mosaic-sacrificial. Its interpretive center lies in the Mishnah, Talmud, and later rabbinic rulings rather than in Temple ritual or priestly mediation.

Put simply, modern Judaism is not “Old Testament faith without Christ.” It is a new form of Judaism that emerged because the old Temple-based system could no longer function. That distinction—while historically obvious—is rarely emphasized in dispensational preaching, where modern Judaism is often treated as though it were simply biblical Judaism awaiting reactivation.

 

6. Why This Matters for Reading the New Testament (Especially Matthew and Revelation)

How modern Judaism is understood has direct consequences for how the New Testament is read. If Rabbinic Judaism is assumed to be essentially continuous with biblical, Temple-centered Judaism, then Jesus’ warnings about the Temple, its leadership, and Jerusalem itself are often softened or postponed. His words are treated as describing a temporary crisis rather than a decisive covenant turning point.

In the Gospels—especially in Matthew 21–25—Jesus repeatedly frames the Temple system and its leadership as standing under judgment.¹³ He speaks of authority being removed, stewardship failing, and the house being left desolate. These warnings make the most sense if the Temple-centered covenant order was truly approaching its end, not merely entering a holding pattern until a future restoration.

When the destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70 is understood as the historical fulfillment of those warnings, the New Testament’s covenant logic becomes clearer. The fall of the Temple is no longer an unexplained tragedy or a prophetic interruption, but a public confirmation that a particular covenant form had reached its conclusion. This helps explain why the apostolic writings never call for the rebuilding of the Temple or the resumption of sacrifice¹⁴, even as they continue to affirm the authority of Israel’s Scriptures and the faithfulness of Israel’s God.

The book of Revelation carries this same movement forward in symbolic and visionary form. Rather than anticipating a renewed Temple system, Revelation closes with a vision in which there is no temple, because God Himself dwells directly with His people⁷. What was once mediated through priesthood, sacrifice, and sacred space is now immediate and complete. This is not a rejection of the Old Testament story, but its consummation.

When modern Judaism is recognized as a post-Temple reconfiguration rather than a paused biblical system, Matthew and Revelation can be read together as announcing and confirming the same covenant transition. The misunderstanding of Judaism, therefore, does not merely affect views of Israel; it reshapes how the New Testament itself is interpreted—especially where judgment, fulfillment, and covenant continuity are concerned.

Conclusion: Why This Shapes Evangelical Readings of Prophecy

These assumptions about Judaism also help explain why Evangelicals often arrive at very different conclusions when reading biblical prophecy. When covenant forms are treated as temporarily interrupted, prophecy is naturally read as pointing toward restoration. When covenant forms are understood as fulfilled and concluded, prophecy is instead read as moving toward consummation.

This difference is not merely about timelines or charts. It reflects a deeper question: whether the structures that once defined covenant life are expected to return, or whether they have already given way to what they were meant to anticipate. How one answers that question shapes how Scripture is read, how history is interpreted, and how the relationship between Israel, the Church, and the New Testament is understood.

Recognizing the historical transformation of Judaism after AD 70 does not diminish God’s faithfulness or Israel’s significance. It clarifies the covenant story Scripture itself tells—and helps readers approach both prophecy and history with greater coherence and care.

Endnotes:

1.        Shaye J. D. Cohen, From the Maccabees to the Mishnah, 2nd ed. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2006), 214–238.

2.       The Gospel Coalition, “Dispensational Theology,” https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/essay/dispensational-theology/.

3.       SAET, “Dispensationalism,” https://www.saet.ac.uk/Christianity/Dispensationalism.

4.       Jacob Neusner, Judaism: The Evidence of the Mishnah (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1981).

5.       R. T. France, The Gospel of Matthew (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 775–812.

6.       R. C. Sproul, The Last Days According to Jesus (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1998); N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996).

7.       Revelation 21:22–27.

8.       E. P. Sanders, Judaism: Practice and Belief, 63 BCE–66 CE (London: SCM Press, 1992).

9.       Charles C. Ryrie, Dispensationalism (Chicago: Moody, 2007).

10.    G. K. Beale, A New Testament Biblical Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 397–442.

11.     Jacob Neusner, Introduction to Rabbinic Literature (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994).

12.     John F. Walvoord, The Millennial Kingdom (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1959).

13.     N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, 405–443.

14.     Hebrews 8–10; Acts 15; G. K. Beale, The Temple and the Church’s Mission (Downers Grove: IVP, 2004).

Christianity Through Time: First Century vs Twenty-First Century

Having a keen interest in church history and how Christianity arrived at its present form, I decided to explore several questions on the topic. To assist in this research, I made use of AI. The results were thought-provoking and encouraged deeper reflection.

When people talk about Christianity today, they often assume that their own church tradition closely matches what Christians believed and practiced in the first century. Yet when Scripture is read alongside the earliest historical writings of the church, a more complex picture emerges. This raises three important questions:

(1) Which form of Christianity today best matches first-century Christianity?
(2) Which early Christian practices should be recovered—and which should not?
(3) If someone today wanted to join a church resembling a first-century Christian community, what should they look for?

What First-Century Christianity Was Like

If we limit ourselves to the New Testament and the earliest Christian writings from approximately AD 70–150, we find a remarkably consistent picture of early Christianity. The church was centered on Jesus Christ rather than on systems, denominations, or theological brands. It was guided by the apostles and, later, by elders and bishops who carried on their teaching. Baptism and the Lord’s Supper were central practices, not optional additions. Christians lived in close community, sharing resources, caring for the poor, and holding one another accountable. Their faith demanded moral transformation, and they lived with strong expectation that Christ would return.¹

At the same time, early Christianity remained deeply shaped by its Jewish roots. Scripture was read through the story of Israel, now understood as fulfilled in Christ.² What the church was not is equally important. It was not divided into denominations, did not revolve around formal creeds, and did not frame theology around later debates such as “faith versus works.” It was also not a Bible-only religion in the modern sense, since the New Testament had not yet been finalized or collected.³

Why Modern Denominations Don’t Match the First Century

Because of this, Scripture itself rules out the idea that any modern denomination fully matches first-century Christianity. The earliest Christians did not identify themselves by leaders or movements. Paul explicitly warned against divisions and factions within the church, urging believers to remain united in Christ.⁴ Early Christians referred to themselves simply as followers of “the Way.”⁵

This leads to a better question: not which modern church is correct in every detail, but which later traditions preserved the structure and spirit of early Christianity most faithfully.

What Early Christian Writings Tell Us

Several early Christian texts outside the Bible help clarify this picture. A short church manual from the late first century, commonly known as the Didache, describes baptism, fasting, moral instruction, church discipline, and recognized leaders such as bishops and deacons. It also presents the Lord’s Supper as a sacred act rather than a casual symbol.⁶

Early church leaders also emphasized visible unity and structure. Ignatius of Antioch, writing around AD 110, insisted that each city should be unified under a single bishop in order to guard the faith and preserve unity. He rejected individualistic and invisible views of the church, emphasizing instead a gathered community centered on shared worship.⁷ Other early writers describe Sunday gatherings that included Scripture reading, teaching, prayer, baptism, and the Lord’s Supper as a serious and formative act.⁸

Taken together, these sources portray a church that was sacramental, communal, structured, and closely connected to its leaders.

What This Rules Out

By these standards, several modern movements do not resemble first-century Christianity. Modern evangelicalism, with its limited sacramental theology and minimal authority structures, would not have been recognizable in the early church. A Bible-only approach would have been impossible when the New Testament did not yet exist as a complete collection.⁹ Additionally, later theological debates about justification and faith were framed very differently in the first century.¹⁰

Dispensational theology also fails to align with early Christianity, as early believers did not separate Israel and the church or expect a rapture distinct from Christ’s return. Kingdom language in the New Testament is present and covenantal rather than postponed to a distant future.¹¹

Restorationist movements similarly struggle to fit historical evidence. These movements often claim that the church fell into apostasy very early and required complete reconstruction. This conflicts with the strong continuity visible in early Christian writings and introduces doctrines unknown to the earliest believers.¹²

Which Traditions Come Closest?

No modern church is a perfect match for first-century Christianity. However, some traditions preserve more of its structure, worship, and overall character than others.

Eastern Orthodox Christianity often feels closest to the ancient church in worship and daily life. Its services are shaped by Scripture, prayer, and practices that developed very early in Christian history. The church strongly emphasizes continuity, seeing itself as the living continuation of the apostolic community. The Orthodox emphasis on salvation as transformation and union with God aligns closely with early Christian language.¹³

However, Eastern Orthodoxy also includes developments that came centuries after the apostles. Icon theology, while meaningful to Orthodox believers, was not clearly defined in the first century. Some philosophical explanations of God and salvation go beyond the language of the New Testament. In addition, Orthodoxy can feel culturally distant or difficult to access for many modern believers, especially those without historical or ethnic ties to it.

The Roman Catholic Church also preserves many early Christian elements. It maintains a clear leadership structure rooted in bishops, takes the sacraments seriously, and places strong emphasis on unity and continuity with the early church. Its worship reflects ancient patterns, and its belief that Christianity is lived through the whole body of believers echoes first-century practice.

At the same time, several central Catholic doctrines developed later than the first century. Papal supremacy grew gradually and was not present in the early church. Medieval teachings, legal frameworks, and philosophical categories shaped Catholic theology in ways unfamiliar to early Christians.¹⁴ For some, the system can feel overly formal or distant from the simpler, more relational life of the earliest Christian communities.

High-church Anglicanism attempts to hold together early Christian structure with Reformation concerns about Scripture and grace. It retains bishops, sacraments, and ancient creeds, while often being less committed to later medieval doctrines. In many places, Anglican worship intentionally draws from early Christian prayer and Scripture-centred liturgy.

However, Anglicanism is not a single, unified theology. Beliefs and practices can vary widely from one region or parish to another. It also carries assumptions inherited from the Reformation period, which sometimes shape theology more than early Christian thought.¹⁵ As a result, Anglicanism can preserve early forms while lacking consistent substance beneath them.

Some forms of Reformed covenant theology also preserve aspects of early Christianity—perhaps more so than many other Protestant traditions. They take Scripture seriously, emphasize the unity of God’s plan across the Old and New Testaments, and place Christ at the center of biblical interpretation. Their moral seriousness and commitment to disciplined Christian living reflect early Christian values.

Still, Reformed traditions often lack key features of first-century Christianity. Sacraments are usually treated as symbolic rather than central acts of worship. Church authority structures differ significantly from the early episcopal model. In addition, the Reformed understanding of justification developed later, especially after Augustine. It does not fully reflect the way early Christians spoke about salvation, faith, and obedience together—thus reflecting the more holistic soteriology of the early church.¹⁶.

Briefly then: Each of these traditions preserves real and meaningful aspects of early Christianity, but none preserves all of them. Eastern Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism best reflect early structure and sacramental life, while Anglicanism and some Reformed traditions retain important theological insights shaped by Scripture. The early church stands behind all of them, reminding modern Christians that continuity matters—but so does humility about what has been added or lost over time.

The Best Historical Answer

The form of Christianity that best fits first-century evidence is the apostolic church before it developed into later Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox forms. This early church was united, sacramental, governed by bishops, centered on Christ’s resurrection and kingdom, and shaped by Scripture read through covenant and fulfillment. Every modern tradition preserves something true, adds something later, and loses something original.

This conclusion does not imply that one must become Catholic or Orthodox, that the Reformation was a mistake, or that the early church was perfect. Rather, it suggests that early Christianity was more relational, communal, and embodied than most modern expressions, and less focused on rigid doctrinal boundary-drawing.

What Should Be Recovered—and What Should Not

Early Christianity still offers valuable guidance. The New Testament presents the church as a visible community with shared worship, leadership, discipline, and care for the needy. Formation and moral training were central, not optional. Baptism marked real entry into the Christian life, and the Lord’s Supper was treated with reverence and seriousness. Prayer, fasting, generosity, and care for the poor were normal rhythms of faith.¹⁷

At the same time, some practices must be recovered carefully. Strong leadership protected unity but could be abused. Liturgy could shape deep faith or become empty routine. Fasting and discipline were beneficial but could become harmful when taken to extremes.

Other practices should not be recovered at all:

► Anti-Jewish rhetoric contradicts the spirit of the New Testament.

► Obsessive prophecy speculation distracts from faithful living.

► Coercive discipline damages rather than restores.

► Magical or transactional religion replaces repentance and trust.

Finally, the idea of a perfect “golden age” ignores the real struggles documented in the New Testament itself.¹⁸

What to Look for in a Church Today

For someone who identifies as a non-denominational Christian with loose Protestant roots, this journey does not require adopting a new label. The goal is depth, continuity, and faithfulness, not switching teams. Christian identity should be grounded in Christ and Scripture, not movements or brands.

Healthy churches:

► Balance Scripture as final authority, respect for early Christian wisdom, and accountable local leadership.

► They are visible, local communities with real relationships, not content platforms.

► Baptism and the Lord’s Supper are practised reverently but without superstition.

► Discipleship focuses on long-term growth, not quick decisions.

► Spiritual practices are simple and sustainable.

► Scripture is read as a unified story centered on Christ.

► Hope for Christ’s return shapes faith without obsession.

► Ethics and witness flow from a transformed life.

Most importantly, no church will be perfect. The goal is not to find an exact copy of the first century, but a community that reflects its spirit.

Conclusion:

Recovering early Christianity does not mean going backward or copying everything from the past. It means deepening commitment, embodiment, formation, and hope while rejecting later distortions and extremes. The first-century church reminds modern Christians that faith is not merely believed, but lived—together—in hope of Christ’s kingdom.

___________________________

If you are curious about other articles on this blog an index can be found at this link: Index 

 

Endnotes

1. Acts 2:42–47; 1 Corinthians 11:17–34; 1 Thessalonians 1:9–10.

2. Luke 24:27; Romans 9–11.

3. Bruce M. Metzger, The Canon of the New Testament (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1987).

4. 1 Corinthians 1:10–13.

5. Acts 9:2.

6. Didache 1–16.

7. Ignatius of Antioch, Letter to the Smyrnaeans 8.

8. Justin Martyr, First Apology 65–67.

9. Lee Martin McDonald, The Formation of the Christian Biblical Canon (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1995).

10. Alister E. McGrath, Historical Theology (Oxford: Blackwell, 1998).

11. George Eldon Ladd, The Presence of the Future (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974).

12. Jaroslav Pelikan, The Christian Tradition, vol. 1 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1971).

13. Irenaeus, Against Heresies; see also John Meyendorff, Byzantine Theology.

14. Henry Chadwick, The Early Church (London: Penguin, 1993).

15. Stephen Sykes et al., The Study of Anglicanism (London: SPCK, 1998).

16. N. T. Wright, The New Testament and the People of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992).

17. Hebrews 10:24–25; James 1:27.

18. 1 Corinthians; Galatians; Revelation 2–3.

Bibliography / Further Reading

Primary Sources

• The Didache.

• Ignatius of Antioch. The Letters.

• Justin Martyr. First Apology.

• Irenaeus. Against Heresies.

Early Church History

• Chadwick, Henry. The Early Church.

• Ferguson, Everett. Church History, Volume 1.

• Pelikan, Jaroslav. The Christian Tradition, vol. 1.

Scripture, Canon, and Theology

• Metzger, Bruce M. The Canon of the New Testament.

• McDonald, Lee Martin. The Formation of the Christian Biblical Canon.

• McGrath, Alister E. Historical Theology.

• Wright, N. T. The New Testament and the People of God.

 

Covenant Relationship: Continuity and Form

Lately, the idea of weddings has been coming up often in my personal study. First, it appeared while I was reading the closing chapters of Revelation and the wedding supper of the Lamb. More recently, it came up again while reading Matthew chapter 22. With my curiosity now piqued, I decided to explore this topic further.

The Sadducees’ Marriage Question

The first question that came to mind arose from Matthew 22:23–32. The Sadducees—who did not believe in the resurrection—asked Jesus a question about a hypothetical situation. A woman had been married to seven brothers, one after another, because each husband died. They asked Jesus: after the resurrection, whose wife would she be?¹

So what was Jesus really doing in His answer (vv. 29–32)?
- Was He only answering the Sadducees directly?
- Was He commenting on earthly relationships?
- Or was He explaining what relationships will be like after the resurrection?

A Direct Challenge, Not a Casual Answer

The main point of Jesus’ answer becomes clear when we recognize that He is directly challenging and correcting a false belief. This passage begins with a rebuke, not a gentle explanation. Jesus says:

“You are mistaken, not understanding the Scriptures nor the power of God.”²

That sentence tells us what is happening. This is not a calm discussion about heaven. It is a covenant courtroom moment, consistent with the wider judgment-and-transition setting of Matthew 21–25, where Jesus confronts failed covenant leadership and announces the passing of the old order.

Why the Sadducees?

The Sadducees denied the resurrection completely.³ They accepted primarily the Torah—the first five books of the Old Testament—and rejected much of the Prophets and Writings. Their question was not sincere. It was designed to mock the idea of resurrection by reducing it to a legal problem, drawing on the levirate marriage law in Deuteronomy 25:5–10.⁴

Once this background is understood, Jesus’ strategy becomes clear:

·        He refuses their basic assumption.

·        He corrects their categories of thought.

·        He defeats them using their own Scriptures by citing Exodus rather than Daniel.⁵

Because of this, Jesus’ answer is first and foremost a direct challenge meant to expose Sadducean unbelief.

Is Jesus Commenting on Earthly Relationships?

Yes—but only in a secondary and corrective sense. Jesus says:

“In the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven.”⁶

It is important to be clear about what Jesus is not saying. He is not saying that relationships disappear. He is not saying that people lose their identity. He is not saying that love, recognition, or continuity come to an end.

What Jesus is saying is that marriage, like temple, sacrifice, and priesthood, is a covenant institution tied to mortal life—necessary within a death-marked order, but not carried forward unchanged into resurrection life. These are death-bound realities. Resurrection life does not continue structures that exist only to manage death.

Marriage exists because people die.
Resurrection exists because death is defeated.

This understanding completely breaks the Sadducees’ argument. However, it also raises another question.

Is Jesus Describing Future Resurrection Relationships?

The best answer is: He does so only indirectly, and very carefully. Notice what Jesus does not do:

·        He does not describe what relationships will be like.

·        He does not explain emotional bonds.

·        He does not speculate about recognition or continuity.

Jesus avoids these topics because they are not part of the debate. When He says people will be “like angels,” He does not mean they become sexless, non-relational, or ethereal beings. He means they are immortal. Luke 20:36 makes this explicit when it says they “cannot die anymore.”⁷

In short, people no longer marry because death is no longer a threat. Jesus is answering the Sadducees’ legal logic, not constructing a full doctrine of eternity.

The Real Focus: Covenant Life, Not Marriage

The center of Jesus’ answer is not verse 30, but verses 31–32. Jesus says:

“I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. He is not the God of the dead but of the living.”⁸

This is the theological climax of the passage. God’s covenant relationship does not end at death. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob still live to God. Resurrection is not argued from abstract philosophy, but from God’s covenant faithfulness.

The Sadducees attempted to turn resurrection into a legal absurdity. Jesus reframes it as covenant continuity.

Speculation about future relationships is not the point, and Jesus intentionally leaves it undeveloped. His answer exposes the Sadducees’ failure to understand Scripture, the power of God, and covenant life itself. God is faithful—even beyond death.
______________________

What About Marriage Instituted by God in Eden?

At this point, a natural question arises: how does the relationship of the first man and woman—Adam and Eve—fit into Jesus’ answer to the Sadducees?

In short, Adam and Eve show that marriage belongs to a death-managed stage of human history, not to resurrected life, even though marriage was created by God and called “very good.”⁹

1. Adam and Eve Before Death Entered the Story

In Genesis 1–2, marriage appears before sin and death enter the world. Genesis 2:24 says, “The two shall become one flesh.” Because of this, one might ask: if marriage existed before the Fall, why would it not exist after the resurrection?

This is a fair question—and it closely mirrors the logic the Sadducees were pressing, even if unintentionally. Jesus’ answer helps resolve it.

A Key Distinction

Marriage was created in a world that was capable of death, even though death had not yet occurred. Adam and Eve were not glorified, not confirmed in immortality, and still able to fall.

Resurrection life, by contrast, is permanent and irreversible. Those who are raised “cannot die anymore,” and they are raised imperishable.¹⁰

2. Marriage Was Provisional Even in Eden

Even in Eden, marriage served forward-looking purposes. God commanded Adam and Eve to “be fruitful and multiply.”¹¹ This involved filling the earth and extending God’s image through future generations. These purposes already assume time, succession, and unfinished creation. Marriage was good, but it was not final.

Jesus’ answer to the Sadducees does not deny creation; it clarifies where creation was headed.

3. Adam and Eve Compared to Resurrection Humanity

Though He does not spell it out, here is an important contrast one can assume from this answer and the teaching of Jesus:

Adam and Eve	Resurrection Humanity
Created good but mutable	Raised imperishable
Able to die	Cannot die anymore
Commanded to multiply	No need for succession
Marriage fills the earth	Full number of the redeemed complete
Innocent but unglorified	Glorified and confirmed

Marriage belongs to creation in progress, not creation completed—good within the “already,” but not the final form of life in the “not yet” brought to fulfillment through resurrection.

4. Jesus’ Answer Reframed with Adam and Eve in View

When Jesus says, “In the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage,” He is not contradicting Eden. He is saying that resurrection does not return humanity to Genesis 2; it carries humanity beyond it.

Adam and Eve point forward. The resurrection arrives.

5. Revelation Confirms the Direction of the Story

Revelation does not picture a restored Eden that simply preserves earlier covenant forms. Instead, just as Babylon represents the collapse of Jerusalem and the old covenant order, the Bride represents the completed people of God—no longer mediated by provisional institutions, but united directly to the Lamb. Instead, it reveals:

·        a new creation

·        a single, corporate bride

·        one covenant union between Christ and His people¹²

Adam and Eve were the first sign. The Bride of the Lamb is the final reality.

Paul makes this explicit when he writes, “This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church.”¹³ Marriage was always meant to point beyond itself.

6. Why This Strengthens Jesus’ Reply to the Sadducees

The Sadducees assumed resurrection would freeze creation at one moment in history and extend it indefinitely. Jesus assumes something very different:

·        creation moves forward

·        covenant forms mature

·        God brings provisional goods to completion

Adam and Eve do not weaken Jesus’ answer—they confirm it.

Marriage belongs to God’s good but unfinished creation. Resurrection life belongs to creation completed, where covenant relationship remains, but the temporary form of marriage gives way to its final fulfillment in union with Christ.

Matthew 22, then, belongs to the same covenant movement already traced in Matthew 21–25. Jesus is not answering an abstract question about the afterlife, but exposing the failure of old-order thinking to grasp resurrection life. Just as the temple, sacrifices, and priesthood were not carried forward unchanged, marriage itself is shown to be a provisional covenant form—good within its time, but not permanent. Revelation does not contradict this teaching; it completes it. What Matthew announces in debate form, Revelation reveals in symbolic fulfillment: the old order passes away, and the people of God are gathered into a single, resurrected covenant union with Christ.

This leads us naturally to Revelation 19 and the marriage described there.
____________________

Covenant Continuity and Covenant Form

From the Marriage Debate to the Bride of the Lamb

In Matthew 22, the Sadducees attempted to disprove the resurrection by using marriage. They imagined a woman who had been married seven times and ask whose wife she would be after the resurrection. Their question assumed that resurrection must simply extend present life unchanged. Jesus rejected this assumption and explained that resurrection life is real, but governed by different realities than mortal life.¹⁴

Jesus said that in the resurrection people do not marry, but are “like the angels in heaven.”¹⁵ By this statement He is not denying relationship, but mortality. Marriage belongs to a world where people die; resurrection belongs to a world where death has been overcome.

Jesus then proved the resurrection by appealing to covenant identity: “I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”¹⁶ God’s covenant relationship persists beyond death. What changes is not covenant life, but covenant form.

Revelation 19–21 carries this same logic forward. God’s people are portrayed as a bride, and Christ as the bridegroom.¹⁷ The image is corporate, not individual. The “marriage of the Lamb” is the fulfillment toward which earthly marriage always pointed.¹⁸

Earthly marriage was never the final goal. It was a sign. When resurrection life arrives, the sign gives way to the reality. God dwells with His people, and relationship remains—but now shaped by eternal life rather than mortality.¹⁹

Matthew 22 and Revelation 19–21 teach the same truth from different angles. God’s covenant faithfulness does not end, but death-bound covenant structures do. Marriage, like temple and sacrifice, belongs to a passing order. In the resurrection, those forms give way to full life with God, shared by all His people forever.²⁰

The resurrection does not undo God’s good creation; it completes it. Marriage, like temple and sacrifice, belonged to a world marked by death and served a real purpose within that world. Jesus’ answer to the Sadducees does not deny covenant relationship, but reveals that covenant life does not depend on death-bound forms. What began in Eden as a sign of shared life finds its fulfillment not in the extension of earthly marriage, but in the resurrection life of God’s people gathered to Christ. The Bride of the Lamb is not the loss of relationship, but its consummation—life with God, and with one another, no longer shaped by mortality, but by the power of an unending covenant.

Endnotes:

1.        Matt. 22:23–28.

2.       Matt. 22:29.

3.       Acts 23:8.

4.       Deut. 25:5–10.

5.       Matt. 22:31–32; Exod. 3:6.

6.       Matt. 22:30.

7.       Luke 20:36.

8.       Matt. 22:32.

9.       Gen. 1:31; 2:24.

10.    Luke 20:36; 1 Cor. 15:42–54.

11.     Gen. 1:28.

12.    Rev. 19:7; 21:2.

13.     Eph. 5:32.

14.    Matt. 22:23–30.

15.     Matt. 22:30.

16.    Matt. 22:31–32.

17.     Rev. 19:7–9; 21:2.

18.    Rev. 19:7.

19.    Rev. 21:3–4.

20.   Rev. 21:22–27.