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Triumph of the Warrior-King: A Theology of the Great Commission, Part 2

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There was no Israelite Mission Board.  Instead, the old covenant looked forward to the day when the nations would see the vindication of Israel–when Israel would be raised from the dead and cleansed from all sin (Ezek 36:33-36).  “My dwelling place will be with them, and I will be their God, and they shall be my people,” Yahweh spoke through the prophet Ezekiel. “Then the nations will know that I am the Lord who sanctified Israel, when my sanctuary is in their midst forevermore” (Ezek 37:27-28 ESV).

Israel therefore longed for the day when the ancient promises would be fulfilled, when the nations would come to Israel (Isaiah 60:1-14), when the ends of the earth would be given as an inheritance to the Son of David (Ps 2:8-9; Ps 110:1-7).  This would mean the reign of the Spirit-anointed King, the dawning of the messianic age (Isaiah 11:1-12), the kingdom of God.   This is why the apostles inquire of the resurrected Jesus as to whether this was when he would “restore the kingdom to Israel” (Acts 1:6 ESV).  Jesus answers their question by speaking of the power of the Spirit and the global task of the Great Commission (Acts 1:7-8).

He was not changing the subject.

To understand the radical theology of the Great Commission, one must grasp the root problem–the tyranny of the demonic “principalities and powers” over the created order, created by Yahweh for his glory.  As C.S. Lewis explained it:

One of the things that surprised me when I first read the New Testament seriously was that it talked so much about a Dark Power in the universe–a mighty evil spirit who was held to be the Power behind death and disease, and sin.  The difference is that Christianity thinks this Dark Power was created by God, and was good when he was created, and went wrong.  Christianity agrees with Dualism that this universe is at war.  But it does not think this is a war between independent powers.  It thinks it is a civil war, a rebellion, and that we are living in a part of the universe occupied by the rebel.  Enemy-occupied territory–that is what this world is.[1]

This “enemy occupation” of the cosmos came through the deception of God’s appointed king–the man Adam who was given dominion over the creation (Gen 1:26-30; Ps 8:3-9).  Because the human king surrendered his dominion to the Serpent-Conqueror, the creation is now in rebellion against its rightful rulers–the sons of man (Gen 3:16-19; Rom 8:19-23).   Therefore, the creation is under bondage to Satan because the creation’s anointed rulers share a nature with the Evil One, the despotic “father” they have chosen for themselves (John 8:43-47; Eph 2:2-3).  In order to restore human rule over the cosmos, the Serpent must be defeated by a human being (Gen 3:15; Rev 12:5)–a human being who can destroy the satanic power over humanity, which is the guilt of sin and the curse of death (Heb 2:14-15).

This is why Jesus confronts the demonic powers in his earthly ministry, why he demonstrates his authority over nature, and why he speaks of his crucifixion as the casting out of the ruler of this age (John 12:31; 14:30; 16:11).[2] As the church father Irenaeus noted, the humanity of Jesus is the fulfillment of our race’s “war against the enemy.”  As such, Irenaeus contended, from the moment of Jesus’ conception, he was “watching the head” of the Serpent–waiting to crush it beneath his feet.[3]

The Great Commission requires cultural contextualization–a task seen already in the apostolic ministry of the apostle Paul (1 Cor 9:15-23).  And yet a theologically informed missiology understands that there are some aspects of human nature that transcend culture, rooted as they are in the creation and fall of humanity.  The idolatries of racial supremacy fall before the New Testament’s insistence on the unity of the human race in Adam (Acts 17:26).  The missionary-evangelist further knows that all persons in all cultures have a real knowledge of God–a knowledge they universally suppress in unrighteousness (Rom 1:18-32).[4] “Evil must rationalize, and that is its weakness,” notes philosopher J. Budziszewski.  “But it can, and that is its strength.”[5]

The missionary-evangelist knows that all persons in every culture know the objective standards of morality; and that all of them experience the indictments of the conscience for sin (Rom 2:14-16).  The missionary-evangelist knows that all persons in every culture, whatever they do to deny it, fear death and the judgment to follow (Heb 2:14-15).  This means that the message of the gospel across all cultures will address the common human plight of sin, righteousness, and judgment–the proclamation through which the Holy Spirit pierces consciences (John 16:8-11).

This means that a theology of the Great Commission recognizes that human hostility to the gospel is not primarily intellectual but moral.  “And this is judgment,” the gospel of John proclaims. “The light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light for their deeds were evil” (John 3:19 ESV).  The gospel, by its very nature, is threatening to the cherished autonomy of the sinner.

But this understanding also means that missionaries and evangelists will not abandon a people group, simply because they are initially unresponsive to the gospel–as though the gospel can be tested on a “focus group” of disinterested consumers.  Instead, a theology of the Great Commission understands that the problem of all persons–whether in Albania or Alabama–is captivity to the deception of the Evil One (2 Tim 2:25), a captivity that is overcome by the unabashed proclamation of the gospel (2 Cor 4:4-6). A biblical theology of the Great Commission sees gospel preaching as what it is–spiritual warfare.

And unregenerate humanity knows this–at some level.  This is why warfare myths–from Beowulf to Buffy the Vampire Slayer–resonate with unbelievers.  They don’t know what is going on, but they sense that something more than meets the eye is in the air; that behind it all there is some ancient conspiracy.  They try to quell it with bodily pleasure, mental diversions, and selfish ambitions.

But somewhere behind it all, they seem to know there is a mystery stirring.

Only when we see how lost we are, we can find our way again. Only when we bury what’s dead can we experience life again. Only when we lose our religion can we be amazed by grace again.

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About Russell Moore

Russell Moore is Editor in Chief of Christianity Today and is the author of the forthcoming book Losing Our Religion: An Altar Call for Evangelical America (Penguin Random House).

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