Strange Theology - Part 2: The Temple, the Law, and Covenant Fulfillment

The question of the temple lies at the heart of how Christians understand the new covenant. This post explores why the temple mattered under the old covenant, how Jesus redefined its meaning, and why its destruction marked a decisive turning point in redemptive history.

Christian Zionism, Dispensationalism,

and the Fragmentation of the People of God:

In Part I of this three-part series, I examined pretribulational premillennialism and the futurist interpretive framework commonly employed to defend it. The focus of that discussion was historical and theological: Where did this theory originate, and what assumptions are required to sustain it? In this second instalment, I turn to a closely related—and increasingly influential—component of dispensational theology: Christian Zionism.

Zionism and Its Origins:

Zionism is defined by Encyclopaedia Britannica as a Jewish nationalist movement advocating for the creation and support of a Jewish national state in Palestine, understood as the ancient homeland of the Jewish people (Eretz Yisra’el).¹ As a political movement, Zionism emerged primarily in Central and Eastern Europe in the late nineteenth century, largely in response to persistent antisemitism and influenced by currents associated with the Jewish Enlightenment (Haskalah). It is generally agreed that modern political Zionism was formally organized under the leadership of Theodor Herzl in 1897.

At first glance, this definition appears straightforward: a secular Jewish movement seeking national self-determination. One might reasonably assume that Christian Zionism developed only after Herzl’s political Zionism and simply reflects Christian support for Jewish self-governance in a particular territory. Such assumptions, however, are historically and theologically mistaken.

Christian Zionism: Definition and Theological Claims:

Christian Zionism long predates modern political Zionism. Its roots extend back several centuries, particularly within Protestant circles of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Far from being a mere political sympathy, Christian Zionism is best understood as a theo-political system—one that fuses biblical interpretation, eschatological expectation, and contemporary political advocacy.

At its core, Christian Zionism maintains that the Jewish people possess a divine and irrevocable right to the land of Palestine, promised eternally to the physical descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. According to this view, the Jewish return to this specific territory—after nearly two millennia of dispersion—is not only legitimate but biblically mandated. Moreover, this restoration is said to function as a necessary precondition for the fulfillment of end-time prophecy, including the Great Tribulation, the revelation of Antichrist, and the Second Coming of Christ.

Christian Zionists frequently appeal to Genesis 12:3 to argue that individuals and nations are obligated to “bless” the modern state of Israel—politically, financially, and militarily—in order to receive divine favour, while opposition invites judgment. In this framework, Jerusalem becomes the geopolitical axis upon which redemptive history turns, and Gentile Christians are cast as divinely appointed facilitators of Israel’s restoration.

Britannica further observes that early Christian Zionists from the sixteenth through nineteenth centuries supported Jewish restoration primarily for eschatological reasons, whereas contemporary American evangelical adherents have combined theological convictions with overt political activism since the establishment of the modern state of Israel in 1948.¹

Puritan Roots and Early Protestant Zionism:

Historical evidence indicates that the Puritans were among the earliest Protestant groups to articulate pro-Zionist ideas. Emerging from the apocalyptic ferment of post-Reformation England, Puritan theology was deeply shaped by eschatological urgency. However, it is important to note that Puritan Zionism was not dispensational. While Puritans anticipated a future role for the Jews, they generally believed this would involve their conversion to Christianity rather than the perpetuation of a separate covenantal identity.⁴

Key Puritan convictions included the belief that:

• The end of history was imminent;
• New England could serve as a locus for the New Jerusalem;
• They themselves constituted a “New Israel” in covenant with God;
• Their societal project represented a renewal of biblical theocracy.

These ideas were so deeply embedded that Hebrew symbols and terminology—such as Urim v’tumim (“Light and Truth”)—were incorporated into institutions like Yale College.²³⁴

Contemporary historians, including Anita Shapira, have suggested that evangelical Protestant Zionist ideas circulating in England during the early nineteenth century were later transmitted into Jewish nationalist thought, particularly during the 1840s—a period when Jewish nationalism initially encountered resistance within Jewish communities themselves.³

From Puritan Hope to Dispensational Zionism:

While Puritan Zionism laid conceptual groundwork, modern Christian Zionism is largely inseparable from dispensational theology, particularly as systematized by John Nelson Darby in the nineteenth century and later popularized through the Scofield Reference Bible.

Darby explicitly distinguished between the destinies of Israel and the Church, arguing that each occupies a separate dispensation within God’s redemptive plan. His lectures, first delivered in Geneva in 1840 and rapidly disseminated in multiple languages, became foundational for the global spread of dispensational thought.²

This framework transformed earlier Protestant expectations into a rigid theological system in which:

• Israel and the Church are ontologically distinct peoples;
• Old Testament land promises remain unfulfilled and await literal realization;
• A future millennial kingdom functions as the venue for these promises.

Christian Zionism, in this sense, is not merely an ethical posture toward Jews or Israel, but a theological necessity required to sustain the dispensational schema.

Jewish Millennialism and the Background of Revelation 20:

To understand the millennial assumptions embedded within Christian Zionism and dispensationalism, it is necessary to recognize that millennial concepts long predate Christianity itself. Chiliasm—the expectation of a thousand-year reign preceding final judgment—appears in Persian religion and is well attested in Second Temple Jewish literature.⁷

Jewish messianic expectations were often nationalistic and occasionally millenarian, particularly in post-exilic prophetic literature. These traditions formed part of the symbolic and conceptual world inhabited by the original audience of the Book of Revelation.⁹

This historical context raises an important hermeneutical question: When John describes the “thousand years” in Revelation 20, is he introducing a novel chronological scheme, or is he employing symbolic language already familiar to Jewish apocalyptic thought? It is neither necessary nor methodologically sound to force this passage into an elaborate chronological chart—especially when such charts rely on eisegesis rather than exegesis.

Dispensational Theology and Its Structural Commitments:

The interdependence of several doctrines (Christian Zionism, unfulfilled promises to Israel, the doctrine of two peoples of God, and a literal millennium) becomes evident upon closer examination. According to classic dispensational theology, three elements are indispensable:¹⁰

• A strict distinction between Israel and the Church;
• A consistently literal (historical-grammatical) hermeneutic;
• A future millennial dispensation in which Abrahamic promises are finally fulfilled.

However, this system struggles to account for several features it insists upon—most notably a seven-year Great Tribulation and a pretribulational rapture. Neither concept is explicitly taught in Scripture; both are inferred through the reconfiguration of Daniel’s seventy weeks prophecy (Dan. 9:24–27).

Dispensationalism posits a “parenthesis” between the sixty-ninth and seventieth weeks—an interruption allegedly caused by Israel’s rejection of Christ. Yet Scripture nowhere indicates such a pause. This construction raises serious theological questions about divine foreknowledge, covenant continuity, and the coherence of redemptive history.

Biblical Testimony Concerning Fulfillment and Unity:

Claims that God’s promises to Israel remain unfulfilled stand in tension with explicit biblical affirmations to the contrary. Joshua 21:43–45 and 1 Kings 4:20–21 state unambiguously that God fulfilled all His promises regarding land, rest, and national blessing.

Moreover, the New Testament repeatedly emphasizes the unity of God’s people in Christ:

• “There is neither Jew nor Gentile … for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:28);
• “If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed” (Gal. 3:29);
• “Not all who are descended from Israel are Israel” (Rom. 9:6–8).

While dispensationalists attempt to preserve distinctions between physical and spiritual seed, Scripture consistently locates covenant identity in Christ rather than ethnicity.¹¹

Political and Ethical Controversies:

Christian Zionism has not remained a purely theological position. Scholars such as Yaakov Ariel and institutions such as the Religion Media Centre have documented its substantial political influence, particularly in the United States.¹² This includes lobbying efforts related to Israeli settlement expansion, opposition to peace processes, and the instrumentalization of Jewish identity within apocalyptic narratives.

In 2006, Christian leaders in Jerusalem formally denounced Christian Zionism as a “false teaching,” warning that its alliance with political power perpetuates cycles of violence and instability.¹²

Conclusion:

From a biblical and historical standpoint, the doctrine of two peoples of God represents a significant theological departure. Scripture presents a unified redemptive narrative in which God’s purposes—initiated in creation, unfolded through Israel, and fulfilled in Christ—culminate in a single redeemed people.

God’s ultimate aim has always been the restoration of creation and the defeat of evil through His Son (1 John 3:8). When Christ’s kingdom is fully realized, it will not consist of divided peoples or deferred promises, but of one reconciled humanity dwelling in the renewed creation—exactly as God intended from the beginning.

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New here? You may want to start with the Start Here page to understand how this series fits together. 

Next in the series: Strange Theology - Part 3

For a broader reflection on mortality, judgment, and why these questions matter in the first place, see Sin, Soul, Death, and Hell.

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Endnotes:

1.        Encyclopaedia Britannica, s.v. “Zionism,” https://www.britannica.com/topic/Zionism.

2.        Jonathan Kuttab, “Palestinian Evangelicals and Christian Zionism,” Jerusalem Quarterly 76 (2018): 70–78.

3.        Anita Shapira, Israel: A History, trans. Anthony Berris (Lebanon, NH: Brandeis University Press, 2014), 15.

4.        Paul Boyer, “What Did the Puritans Think About God’s Ancient Promises to Israel, and How They Fit into That?” interview excerpt, quoted in discussions of Puritan apocalypticism; Boyer is Merle Curti Professor of History, University of Wisconsin–Madison.

5.        Jim Sleeper, “Israel and the Puritans: A Dangerous Historical Romance (Part I),” Commonweal, April 11, 2024.

6.        International Christian Embassy Jerusalem (ICEJ), “Christian Zionism 101: Biblical Teachings,”  https://www.icej.org/understand-israel/biblical-teachings/christian-zionism-101/.

7.        Kaufmann Kohler et al., “Millennium,” Jewish Encyclopedia, https://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/10840-millennium.

8.        Norman Cohn, discussion summarized in “Ancient Judaism and Millenarianism,” Centre for the Analysis of the Radical Right, https://www.cdamm.org/articles/ancient-judaism.

9.        Charles C. Ryrie, Dispensationalism Today (Chicago: Moody Press, 1965), 43–47.

10.     Renald E. Showers, “An Examination of Dispensational Theology (Part 3),” theological position paper.

11.     “What Does It Mean That Christians Are the Seed of Abraham?” GotQuestions.org, https://www.gotquestions.org/seed-of-Abraham.html.

12.     Religion Media Centre, “Factsheet: Christian Zionism,” https://religionmediacentre.org.uk/factsheets/factsheet-christian-zionism/.

Strange Theology - Part 1: Rethinking the New Covenant and the Church

Many Christians speak confidently about grace, freedom, and the new covenant—yet still read Scripture as if key promises remain unfinished. This series examines why that tension exists, how it developed, and what the New Testament actually teaches about the new covenant, church unity, and covenant fulfillment. 

Historical Roots, Hermeneutics, and the Rise of Dispensational Futurism:

Throughout the history of the Christian church, theological controversy has been a recurring and unavoidable reality. From the earliest centuries, ecclesial leaders convened councils and synods to address doctrinal disputes and to define orthodox belief in response to teachings perceived as erroneous or destabilizing. Despite these efforts, theological ideas—both old and new—have continued to resurface in altered forms. Some represent legitimate attempts to refine or clarify doctrine; others, however, reintroduce long-discarded errors under novel guises. Such developments warrant careful attention and critical scrutiny.

This observation should not be misconstrued as a wholesale rejection of theological innovation or doctrinal re-examination. To adopt such a posture would imply that the church has already attained complete and final theological understanding—a claim Scripture itself explicitly denies. As the apostle Paul reminds believers, “For now we see through a glass, darkly… now I know in part” (1 Cor. 13:12). Intellectual humility, therefore, is not optional but essential. Nevertheless, any proposal that challenges established Christian doctrine must demonstrate fidelity to Scripture as a whole and coherence with the core truths consistently affirmed by the historic church. Equally important is attentiveness to the interpretive judgments of earlier generations who wrestled with the same biblical texts and theological questions.

While tracing the full history of doctrinal development can be demanding, the church is not without resources. A substantial historical record survives in the writings of the early church fathers, medieval theologians, Reformers, Christian historians, and official conciliar documents. These materials—often preserved in creeds, catechisms, and confessional statements—should not be dismissed lightly. To do so risks severing contemporary theology from the communal wisdom of the church across time.

In his article “Our Doctrinal Core,” J. Paul Nyquist identifies five foundational doctrines that historically define Christian orthodoxy and function as essential boundary markers for those who claim allegiance to Christ.¹ 
These doctrines are: 
(1) the Trinity—one God in three persons, each fully divine; 
(2) the person of Jesus Christ—fully God and fully human; 
(3) the Second Coming—Christ’s personal return to judge and reign; 
(4) salvation—by faith alone in Christ alone; and 
(5) Scripture—the Bible as the inerrant and sufficient Word of God. While one could debate the inclusion or exclusion of additional doctrines, this list adequately frames the discussion for present purposes.

Historically, most sectarian movements and doctrinal deviations have not arisen from outright rejection of Scripture but from selective interpretation. Certain passages are emphasized, isolated, or reinterpreted in ways that support pre-existing theological commitments. Over time, these interpretations harden into dogma and are transmitted uncritically from one generation to the next. The result is often the emergence of theological systems that, though claiming biblical authority, diverge sharply from the broader witness of Scripture and the historic consensus of the church.

The focus of this chapter is one such theological development related to Nyquist’s third doctrinal core: the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. While Christians universally affirm Christ’s return, significant disagreement exists regarding its nature, timing, and sequence of events. The particular doctrine examined here is commonly known as the pretribulational rapture, more formally situated within the system of dispensational premillennialism.

Readers who currently hold this view may find this critique unsettling. That response is understandable. My own theological journey included sincere belief in Christ’s Second Coming and, for a period, acceptance of the pretribulational rapture. I was initially raised within a historic premillennial framework and had never encountered the concept of a separate rapture event. When I first heard of it as a teenager, it was presented by those within my own tradition as speculative and unbiblical. Interestingly, I later encountered individuals committed to pretribulationism who were entirely unaware that alternative interpretations even existed. They had been taught that their view was not merely one biblical interpretation, but the biblical interpretation.

After abandoning my earlier eschatological framework, I spent several years without firm convictions on the subject. Eventually, the promise of escaping tribulation proved appealing, and I adopted the pretribulational position. With genuine enthusiasm, I immersed myself in its literature—listening to prominent teachers, examining proof texts, and participating in structured Bible studies on Revelation and prophetic themes. Yet I also compared these claims with other historically grounded, biblically defensible views and observed scholarly debates between their proponents.

A persistent question emerged: if the pretribulational rapture were as self-evident as its advocates claimed, why did it remain virtually unknown prior to the nineteenth century, and why does it continue to represent a minority position among biblical scholars worldwide?

The deeper I investigated, the more troubled I became. I found no clear, straightforward biblical teaching that necessitated belief in a secret, pretribulational rapture. Instead, the doctrine appeared to require a prior assumption of its truth, followed by selective exegesis and creative reinterpretation of isolated passages. A reader approaching Scripture holistically—asking what it teaches about the return of Christ—would not naturally arrive at such a conclusion. The doctrine must be imposed upon the text rather than derived from it.

This assessment aligns closely with Isaiah R. Maynard’s academic study, “On Presupposing the Rapture.”² Maynard argues that biblical support for a pretribulational rapture only appears after the interpreter presupposes the doctrine and applies a hermeneutic tailored to sustain it. He observes that while the New Testament frequently speaks of Christ’s Second Coming, it remains silent regarding a distinct rapture event. Both Jesus and Paul, he notes, consistently link salvation, bodily resurrection, and the consummation of history to a single, visible return of Christ.²

This essay does not attempt a comprehensive comparison of eschatological systems. Such analyses already exist in abundance. Rather, the aim is to examine why the pretribulational rapture doctrine emerged at all, to identify its historical origins, and to evaluate the theological assumptions upon which it rests. When these foundations are carefully examined, they appear increasingly unstable.

For clarity, the term rapture here refers to the sudden removal of believers from the earth in anticipation of a future period of Great Tribulation. Evangelicals typically situate this event either before, during, or after the tribulation. The focus of this critique is the dominant evangelical position—particularly in North America—that the church will be secretly removed prior to (or midway through) the tribulation in order to escape divine wrath.

As I traced this doctrine’s development, each investigative path led back to a tightly interwoven framework: a rigid futurist reading of biblical prophecy, classical dispensationalism, and modern Christian Zionism. Central to this system is not merely interpretation, but definition. Terms such as Israel, church, tribulation, kingdom, and fulfillment are redefined in ways that predetermine the system’s conclusions.

One significant realization was that the pretribulational rapture functions as a secondary doctrine—developed to sustain a more fundamental claim: that God has two distinct peoples, Israel and the church, whom He governs through separate redemptive programs. To maintain this bifurcation, numerous biblical passages must be reinterpreted and displaced from their historical contexts.

This system depends upon a decisive innovation: relocating prophecies long understood as fulfilled—particularly in the events surrounding the destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70—into an indefinite future time period. Large portions of Daniel, most of Revelation, elements of the Olivet Discourse, and selected Pauline texts are extracted from their original settings and projected onto a future global catastrophe. What earlier interpreters recognized as covenantal judgment is recast as an eschatological drama yet to unfold.

The reason for this relocation is straightforward. Without it, the pretribulational rapture cannot be sustained. Scripture must be reshaped to support the system rather than the system arising organically from Scripture.

The historical roots of this futurist shift can be traced to the Jesuit priest Manuel de Lacunza y Díaz (1731–1801), whose work played a pivotal role in introducing futurism into Protestant eschatology. Drawing upon earlier Jesuit Francisco Ribera, Lacunza rejected the longstanding Protestant identification of the Antichrist with the papacy, proposing instead a future Jewish Antichrist.^3-6 His work, published pseudonymously as that of a converted Jew, gained influence in nineteenth-century prophetic circles and was studied at influential conferences such as Albury Park and Powerscourt.

Translated into English by Edward Irving in 1827, Lacunza’s "The Coming of the Messiah in Majesty and Glory" became foundational for emerging futurist interpretations.⁴ Church historian Le Roy Froom notes that belief in a future individual Jewish Antichrist was virtually unknown among Protestants prior to the nineteenth century.⁵ David Pio Gullón’s research further confirms that futurism was neither the position of the early church nor of the Reformers, but a later development designed to counter Protestant historicism.⁶

Within this intellectual climate emerged John Nelson Darby, who systematized dispensational premillennialism and formalized the doctrine of two distinct peoples of God.⁷ Darby’s solution to the coexistence of Israel and the church was the invention of an unmentioned “church age” and a secret rapture to remove the church before God resumed His dealings with Israel.

The result is a theological architecture requiring an invisible coming of Christ, a seven-year tribulation gap, and two separate Second Comings—all absent from the biblical narrative.

Scripture itself challenges this framework. Passages such as Joshua 21:43–45 and 1 Kings 4:20–21 explicitly affirm the fulfillment of God’s promises to Israel. The New Testament consistently presents God’s people as one, united in Christ, grafted into a single covenant community.

As R. C. Sproul observed, “Dispensational theology is a nineteenth-century aberration away from historic, orthodox, biblical Christianity.”⁸ Whether one agrees with Sproul or not, the claim demands serious engagement. As Dewey Dovel rightly argues, the assertion must be evaluated on historical and biblical grounds—neither dismissed nor accepted uncritically.⁹

The task of theology, then, is not to preserve comforting systems, but to submit all systems to the searching light of Scripture and the witness of the church across time.

_________________ 

New here? You may want to start with the Start Here page to understand how this series fits together. 

Next in the series: Strange Theology - Part 2 

For a broader reflection on mortality, judgment, and why these questions matter in the first place, see: Sin, Soul, Death, and Hell. 
_________________ 

Endnotes:

1.         J. Paul Nyquist, “Our Doctrinal Core,” National Association of Evangelicals, December 21, 2014.
2. Isaiah R. Maynard, “On Presupposing the Rapture,” unpublished academic paper.
3. Martin Ballard, End-Timers: Three Thousand Years of Waiting for Judgment Day (Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO, 2011), 113.
4. Manuel de Lacunza, The Coming of the Messiah in Majesty and Glory, trans. Edward Irving (London, 1827).
5. Le Roy Froom, The Prophetic Faith of Our Fathers, vol. 3 (Washington, DC: Review and Herald, 1946), 257.
6. David Pio Gullón, “Two Hundred Years from Lacunza,” Journal of the Adventist Theological Society 9, nos. 1–2 (1998): 71–95.
7. David Malcolm Bennett, “Edward Irving and John Nelson Darby.”
8. R. C. Sproul, Truths We Confess (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2019), 371.
9. Dewey Dovel, “Dismantling Dispensationalism,” November 9, 2020.

As in the Days of Noah (Revisited) — Part 1

Editor’s Note: This post has been substantially revised and expanded to reflect further study and clarity. It now serves as Part 1 of a two-part exploration of Jesus’ reference to “the days of Noah.” The original theme remains, but the argument has been sharpened and more carefully developed.
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Introduction: A Common Phrase, a Serious Question:

Lately, when people talk about current events and the times we are living in, I often hear the phrase “the days of Noah.” This expression is usually meant to describe troubling or dangerous times and often carries an apocalyptic tone. The phrase comes from Jesus and was spoken in response to a question from His disciples.

But does this comparison really fit what we see today? Are we truly living in “the days of Noah”?

Jesus’ Original Context:

The phrase comes from a conversation between Jesus and His disciples near the end of His ministry. As recorded in Matthew’s Gospel:

“Jesus left the temple and was walking away when His disciples came up to Him to call His attention to its buildings.

‘Do you see all these things?’ He asked. ‘Truly I tell you, not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down.’

As Jesus was sitting on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to Him privately. ‘Tell us,’ they said, ‘when will this happen, and what will be the sign of Your coming and of the end of the age?’” (Matthew 24:1–3, NASB)

What Did Jesus Mean by “the Days of Noah”?

Jesus’ response to this question fills most of Matthew 24 and is well worth reading carefully. Within this teaching, He makes a direct comparison to the time of Noah:

“But of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone. For the coming of the Son of Man will be just like the days of Noah. For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noah entered the ark, and they did not understand until the flood came and took them all away; so will the coming of the Son of Man be.” (Matthew 24:36–39, NASB)

Given the seriousness of this warning—both then and now—it is worth paying close attention to what Jesus meant by “the days of Noah.” What exactly was happening before Noah entered the ark? Jesus refers to a time just before a global catastrophe, one that destroyed nearly all life on the earth. He then says that conditions would be similar just before “the end of the age.”

Please note: In this discussion, we will not attempt to define exactly what Jesus meant by “the end of the age,” nor whether it refers to a past or future event.

Jesus used a well-known historical event to help His disciples understand what was coming. It is reasonable to assume that they understood the reference and its meaning. However, it is far less certain that we, today, fully understand what Jesus meant—or what He intended us to learn—from this comparison.

Misunderstanding the Comparison:

In the past, when I heard this passage discussed, the focus was usually on the words “eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage.” As a young person, I was taught that this referred mainly to people giving themselves over to pleasure and sinful living. This view is reflected in older commentaries, which explain the passage as a warning against excess, indulgence, and moral corruption.

There is no question that the Bible describes Noah’s generation as deeply sinful. It is easy to draw parallels between their moral condition and much of what we see today. However, this explanation alone raises an important question: How is eating, drinking, and marrying anything other than normal human behaviour? These activities have always been part of everyday life.

Jesus also said something else that deserves attention:

“They knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away.”

This raises an obvious question:

Could they have known what was coming—and if so, why didn’t they?

Awareness Ignored:

Scripture tells us that Noah spent many decades building the ark, an enormous and very visible project. He is also described as a righteous man who warned others and called them to repentance. Other ancient Jewish writings suggest that Noah actively tried to alert the people to the coming judgment. Despite this, the people remained unprepared.

They had time. They had warnings. They had evidence all around them. Yet when the flood came, it caught them completely by surprise.

For this reason, I do not believe Jesus was criticizing ordinary activities like eating or marrying. Instead, He was pointing out how completely unaware the people were of what was happening around them. Life seemed normal right up until the end. They ignored the warnings, dismissed the signs, and continued as if nothing would ever change.

Moral Corruption Is Not the Whole Story:

When discussing the days of Noah, attention is often drawn to the extreme wickedness of humanity at that time. Scripture says that “every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil all the time” (Genesis 6:5). There is little doubt that this description can feel uncomfortably familiar today. However, this condition of the human heart is not unique to Noah’s generation. Throughout history, human beings have repeatedly shown the same tendency toward corruption. Jeremiah reminds us of this when he writes, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9).

Because of this, general human sinfulness alone cannot fully explain why Noah’s generation stands apart. While moral corruption is certainly part of the picture, it is only one factor among several that must be considered when studying the days of Noah.

Corruption Beyond Humanity: “All Flesh” in Genesis 6:

Before going further with this portion of this essay, I think it is important to look more closely at the phrase “all flesh” in Genesis 6. This particular detail deserves careful attention. It appears more than once in the flood account and is central to understanding why the judgment of the flood was so severe. It may have more significant ramifications for us these days than we realise.

Genesis 6:12 says, “God saw the earth, and behold, it was corrupt, for all flesh had corrupted their way on the earth.” A few verses later, God tells Noah, “I am about to put an end to all flesh, for the earth is filled with violence through them” (Genesis 6:13). Later still, God explains that the flood will destroy “all flesh in which is the breath of life” (Genesis 6:17).

At first glance, “all flesh” might seem to refer simply to humanity. However, the text consistently includes animals, birds, and creeping things alongside human beings. This is unusual. In most biblical judgments, God deals specifically with human sin. Here, the corruption appears to have spread beyond human society and into the created order itself.

The language suggests more than widespread bad behaviour. It points to a breakdown in the proper boundaries of creation. Something had gone wrong at a fundamental level. Life on the earth was no longer functioning as God had intended it to function.

This helps explain why the flood was not limited to human beings alone. If corruption had affected all flesh, then the remedy would also have to be comprehensive. The flood was not merely punishment—it was a kind of reset, preserving only what God declared “blameless” through Noah and those with him in the ark.

Importantly, Genesis makes a distinction. While all flesh was corrupted, Noah is described as “righteous” and “blameless in his generation” (Genesis 6:9). This contrast shows that God was not acting blindly or unjustly. Judgment came only after corruption had become total, and preservation was granted where faithfulness still existed.

If something had gone wrong at the level of creation itself—corrupting not just human society but all flesh—then the strange and often overlooked account of the Nephilim in Genesis 6 demands closer attention.

A Long Period of Warning:

In order to better understand what Jesus meant by “the days of Noah,” I think that we need to move beyond a narrow, distant view of the flood as simply a single moment in history. Instead, we should look at it within a much broader context—both in terms of time and what was happening during that time.

Genesis 7:6 tells us that Noah was 600 years old when he entered the ark and the flood began. That detail is important because 600 years represents an enormous span of time. Many people read the phrase “the days of Noah” without fully grasping how much could happen over such a long period.

To put this in perspective, if we looked back 600 years from today, we would be looking at the early 1400s. Think of how many major events, cultural shifts, wars, discoveries, and changes in human behaviour have taken place since then. A single phrase like “during that time” would hardly describe everything that occurred. In the same way, “the days of Noah” should not be understood as referring to only a short or simple period of time.

Although the Bible records real history and refers to specific historical events, it does not claim to be a complete history of everything that happened. The brief account found in Genesis 6:8 through 7:16 gives us a snapshot—not a full record—of the events leading up to the flood. It provides what we need to understand God’s actions and purposes, but not every detail of life during that long period.

There are also ancient writings outside the Bible that discuss this era. While these texts are not Scripture and must be treated carefully, they can help us understand how people in the ancient world viewed the flood and the events surrounding it. It is reasonable to believe that Jesus’ disciples were more familiar with these traditions than most people are today and likely had a broader understanding of what led up to this great catastrophe.

Warning Ignored Despite Clear Signs:

Another important point is that the coming disaster was not a secret—yet almost everyone was caught by surprise.

Genesis 6:3 is often understood as a warning that humanity had 120 years before judgment would come. This statement reflects God’s patience as well as His unwillingness to tolerate evil forever. Many biblical scholars interpret this verse as a countdown to the flood, a period of time given for repentance.

This idea is also reflected in the Book of Jasher, an ancient non-biblical text mentioned in Scripture (Joshua 10:13; 2 Samuel 1:18). According to Jasher 5:6, Noah was 480 years old when God spoke to him and to Methuselah about the coming destruction if humanity did not turn from its wicked ways. The passage describes repeated warnings given over many years:

“God said unto Noah and Methuselah, saying, Speak ye, and proclaim to the sons of men… Return from your evil ways…
Behold I give you a period of one hundred and twenty years…
And Noah and Methuselah spoke all the words of the Lord to the sons of men, day after day…
But the sons of men would not listen, nor incline their ears to their words.”

Whether one accepts this account in full or not, it reflects a consistent theme also found in Scripture: the people of Noah’s day were warned repeatedly and given ample time to change.

Yet despite decades of warnings, visible signs, and the testimony of a righteous man, the people remained unmoved. When judgment finally came, it caught them unprepared—not because they lacked opportunity, but because they refused to pay attention.

A Pattern Jesus Expected His Listeners to Recognize:

However one looks at it, the outcome was the same. Despite a long period of grace and repeated warnings—despite clear calls to repentance—and despite many troubling events happening all around them, the world was still caught off guard when the floodwaters came.

This is striking when compared with the warning that Jesus tied to His Noah reference. Jesus said that no one knows the day or the hour of His coming—yet He also said it would happen within that generation.

In Noah’s time, the flood came with a known time frame. According to Genesis, humanity was given many years of warning. Even so, knowing that judgment was coming—and roughly when—made no difference. The people did not change.

Ancient writings such as the Book of Jasher describe, in dramatic terms, this refusal to respond. While Jasher is not Scripture and must be read carefully, it reflects a tradition that emphasizes just how clear the warnings were. Jasher 6:11–12 describes terrifying natural signs meant to awaken the people:

“And on that day, the Lord caused the whole earth to shake, and the sun darkened, and the foundations of the world raged… and God did this mighty act, in order to terrify the sons of men, that there might be no more evil upon earth.

And still the sons of men would not return from their evil ways… and did not even direct their hearts to all this.”

Whether one accepts this description as literal or symbolic, the message is consistent with Scripture:

- the people ignored warning after warning.

- Even extraordinary signs failed to move them.

- Their attention remained fixed on everyday life.

- Judgment drew closer.

The Nephilim and the Corruption of Creation:

The Genesis account—and Jesus’ reference to it—points to something more serious than ordinary human wrongdoing. Something was happening that led God to make an unprecedented declaration: “I will wipe from the face of the earth the human race I have created—and with them the animals, the birds and the creatures that move along the ground—for I regret that I have made them” (Genesis 6:7). This judgment went beyond humanity alone and extended to all living creatures.

Genesis 6:12 further explains the reason: “God saw the earth, and behold, it was corrupt, for all flesh had corrupted their way on the earth.” The language here suggests a corruption that had spread beyond individual choices and personal sin. It had become systemic and universal, affecting all flesh. This level of corruption sets Noah’s generation apart and signals that more was at work than the normal moral failings common to human history.

The Factor That Cannot Be Ignored

Yet there is another critical factor that should not be overlooked.

In addition to general moral corruption and human violence, a very specific and dangerous form of evil was spreading throughout the world. This corruption threatened not just society, but all flesh. This brings us to the subject of the Nephilim and their appearance in human history.

Too often, this aspect of the flood narrative is skipped over, misunderstood, or dismissed entirely. However, several biblical passages make either direct or indirect reference to the Nephilim and to the unusual conditions surrounding their emergence. These passages suggest that something deeply unnatural was taking place—something that went beyond ordinary human sin and played a role in bringing about the flood.

Understanding this background is essential if we want to grasp the full meaning of “the days of Noah” as Jesus used the phrase.

Shared Knowledge in the Ancient World

Several biblical passages point to unusual events connected to the days of Noah, even though they do not explain those events in full detail. Passages such as 2 Peter 2:4, Jude 1:6, Numbers 13:30–33, and Genesis 6:1–4 seem to refer to something already known by their original audience.

At this point, an everyday example may help. If someone today mentions “9/11,” they usually do not need to explain the details. Most people already understand what happened and why it matters. In a similar way, these biblical writers appear to assume that their readers already knew what events were being referenced.

This brings us back to the Nephilim and their role in the days of Noah—especially in Genesis 6:1–4. This passage speaks of the “sons of God,” who took human women as wives and produced offspring called Nephilim. Many Jewish interpreters before and during the time of Jesus understood the “sons of God” to be fallen heavenly beings. In later Jewish writings, such as the book of Enoch, these beings are called “Watchers.” (This term [Watchers] can also be found in Daniel 4:13, 17, and 23.)

According to this understanding, certain of these Watchers crossed a forbidden boundary. Their actions were not only immoral but destructive. The resulting corruption affected humanity at a fundamental level and threatened the future of creation itself. In addition to this, these fallen beings were believed to have taught humans forbidden knowledge—methods of violence, deception, and self-destruction.

While these extra-biblical writings are not Scripture, they help explain how many people in Jesus’ day understood Genesis 6. The disciples would not have encountered these ideas as strange or new.

Conclusion

In the end, it was not ignorance caused by lack of opportunity—it was blindness caused by inattention. And that, I believe, is the true warning contained in Jesus’ reference to “the days of Noah.”
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Part 2 will continue this discussion by examining how Jesus’ warning applies to the events leading up to 70 AD—as well as how similar patterns have appeared and could continue to appear at other turning points in history. Part 2 of this article can be found here:

As in the Days of Noah – Part 2