Mirror Images: The City as a Biblical Paradigm of Eschatological Escalation

Before our most recent podcast on localism, my friends and I were discussing the theology of location as a lacuna within Reformed theology that could use supplementation or systematic treatment. While writing about that subject seems better suited to some of my friends, it prompted one of them to ask me to put down what was, in nascent form at the time, a few thoughts in which I tried to outline an eschatological escalation of and towards “city.”

To give context to where this thinking stemmed from, as I was learning about localism, which was mentioned in a different book we had recently reviewed, I wanted to make sure that one of my friends who is an advocate for localism and is moving to a more rural area wasn’t becoming a “romantic agrarian.” After all, while the people of God began by being planted in a garden, the people of God end in and as a city (Revelation 21-22). Of course, that begs a whole host of questions such as what a city looks like, but as my friend was level-headed in his answer to my concern, my thoughts trended towards a different direction: what do we read about cities in Scripture?

In Genesis, the first cities explicitly mentioned are cities of men: Cain's city, the tower of Babel, Sodom and Gomorrah, and Zoar where Lot slept with his daughters. This is not a particularly great start in our understanding of how city life can be good!

The next cities mentioned, however, are patriarchal and convert nations: Ephron (in which peoples blessed Abraham and gifted him with land for a burial site), Nahor (in which kin blessed Abraham and Isaac with the gift of Rebekah), Beersheba (the first city founded by a patriarch – in particular, the son of promise, Isaac – in which Isaac covenanted with Abimelech, had a peace meal with people who had previously persecuted him, and drew water), and Bethel (Jacob's mediatorial ladder). We begin to see major typological and redemptive themes associated with cities.

The next mention of cities returns to those of men: Shechem (in which the Dinah is defiled by a prince and Jacob’s sons literally apply circumcision-death to people with whom they had covenanted; surrounding cities become terrified as Jacob and his sons experience an exodus from Shechem to the house of God in Bethel, cf. Genesis 34:30 and Exodus 5:21) and 3 Edomite cities I don't know much about (Dinhalah, Avith, Pau).

Finally, Pharaoh and his cities (plural) of Egypt convert under the ascension of Joseph, and Israel is blessed and reciprocally blesses Pharaoh.

Genesis events – the patriarchal ones in particular – were later meant to be a template for the Israelites (especially their leaders) to know how to act. Learn from history. Will you be a spiritual city of refuge for the nations or spiritual Babel, Sodom, and Egypt? We now know how that eventually turned out. The same message now applies to visible churches.

With this backdrop in mind, in James B. Jordan's Crisis, Opportunity, and the Christian Future, he writes a chapter about “The Three Fundamental Cultures” that followed the giving of the Decalogue, listed here and described with examples in my own words:

The Age of Tribes – tribal, priestly, period of the judges

The Age of Nations (or Cities) – national, kingly, period of the kings

The Cosmopolitan Age – imperial, prophetic, period of the emperors

Reflection on this chapter, scattered statements he has made elsewhere, and study on my own led me to see an eschatological escalation of the city theme throughout Scripture. The following is an outline of what I have in mind:

In the patriarchal era after which Israel's history was patterned, we first see God scatter the nations at Babel, one of the first cities mentioned in the Bible, because He would not allow a centralization of false worship. Out of this event came the temporary distinction between a nation of priests (Hebrews/Israelites/Jews) and those who were not, an event which catalyzes the cultural periods Jordan alludes to above. The resulting multitude of nations was good, not bad (see this podcast discussion), and these local-cultural distinctions will remain (Revelation 7:9), but conflated with the Babel-event is a judgment which led to exodus.

[...and parenthetically, perhaps this always happens: the first, divine judgments follow divine separations (exoduses?), all of which eschatologically resolve in our experiencing exoduses from darkness and waters of judgment. When does the first exodus occur? Not in the book of Exodus! That isn’t even the first (or second!) exodus from Egypt in particular that we read in Scripture. I think it possible that one can find exoduses as early as Genesis 1, and earlier than Jordan himself proposes: the day/night distinction will resolve on the Day of the Lord, the firmament distinction will resolve in a baptism by fire – just as there was a Noahic baptism by water – as heaven descends upon earth, and the water/land distinction will become land only, as there will be no more sea; Revelation 21:1, 25). Creation itself might be an exodus – it is some kind of ontological change from what could have been, at least. When we become new creations, we have certainly experienced an exodus. This is a bit speculative and tangential on my part, but interesting to consider. One danger to watch out for would be pantheism, as the Creator-creature distinction will always remain. If creation was an exodus in that Creator and creature are separated, it is the only one that doesn't resolve.]

Regardless, there are plenty of exoduses in Genesis – particularly in the patriarchal narratives, which directly follow the Babel narrative – and Israel's history recapitulates these patriarchal events, from which they do not learn many lessons. Besides the example of Jacob in Shechem that I mentioned above: Abraham and Isaac are faithful throughout their exoduses from Egypt, whereas Israel was falsely worshipping (Joshua 24:14) and required salvation from God’s plagues. They are more like Lot’s wife during and after their exodus from Sodom and Gomorrah – barely out of Egypt before crying out against Moses (and, thus, God) that they wish they had never left – than they are like Hagar and Isaac, who wandered in a wilderness and cry out to God for salvation. Abraham and Isaac wandered before the latter, the son of promise, established the first patriarchal city, Beersheba, with its waters of healing and feast of peace between covenanted peoples. Israel wanders like the patriarchs did before finally establishing cities in the promised land to which Gentiles come and convert (prophetically, cf. Exodus 15-18)... before they fall again and again, resulting in the desolation of the tabernacle, 1st temple, and 2nd temple. Etc.

Israel is scattered from Egypt to be priests to the nations, because Egypt became a new Babel. Like Babel, the scattering was again due to the false worship in the city (by both nation-peoples), for which the city was to be judged. Judgment again led to exodus. Furthermore, I think Egypt is the first biblical instance in which we explicitly see a land that has cities (plural) over which one person, pharaoh, ruled. This is kingly, if not imperial (as I might argue), and an escalation in the Babel pattern. History typologically spirals, not exactly repeats. The history in Genesis foreshadows the rest of biblical history, with Israel’s history being next, so the escalating pattern of city judgment, exodus-scattering, and new creation should and does appear in Israel's history. 

There are quite a few examples in Israel's history that are worth mentioning in a more exploratory post on this subject, but the eventual scenario of multiple cities over which a Davidic king rules is perhaps on the same scale as Egypt in one sense, perhaps on a larger scale in another sense (given more distinctive local communities and a wider sphere of influence), and perhaps less in another sense (pharaoh ruled over both priestly and non-priestly peoples). I could include the tabernacle-temple escalation as a microcosmic escalation of what we see playing out geographically. As before, though, syncretism leads to false worship (in both tabernacle and temple, by both priests and kings), Israel becomes a new Babel, judgment led to exodus, and the Israelites are exiled in one sense – and yet, although scattered, God promises to be with them as they continue their priestly ministry among the nations of the Babylonian empire.

During the prophetic period of Daniel et al., the Jews eventually return to rebuild the temple at the behest of emperor Cyrus, a king who disarms other kings (Isaiah 45:1, Ezra 6). Israel’s history reaches an escalated climax in proportion to the climax of the patriarchal narratives in Genesis. Their sphere of influence is pervasive in the biblical oikouménē until they reject the true King of the cosmos, Yahweh, in Acts. Jesus came as the Cosmic Man, recapitulating the events of the patriarchs and Israel as the true Israel and Son of God, antitype of these types. He passed the wilderness wanderings (it seems to me He wanders throughout most of the gospels), eventually establishing Himself as the City of Refuge, the resurrected third and true Temple-City, Head of the new body-politic of believers in which Jews and Gentiles were finally one house. Jerusalem became Babel when they rejected this City for their own, judgment led to exodus, and believers in Christ were scattered among the nations, a true priestly people and truly adopted sons of the Spirit. Now on an escalated, world-wide scale, this will lead to peoples from all nations converting.

The escalating pattern of scattering should and does appear in church history, since we are united with Him. The cherubim firmament-guarders of the sanctuaries (Eden, Sinai, tabernacle, temple, heaven) have been succeeded by the church, since while we were in infancy under angelic tutors, we are now united with Christ who has been exalted above them. The flaming sword and duty of the cherubim have been passed to the church. The church appeals to God’s word-Word to mediate the new covenant, guarding His sanctuary from within (excommunication) as well as at the gates (sacrament), a priestly firmament in which people are cut off or cut in, so to speak.

So when, like the leaders of Israel, the visible church compromises its power to bind and loose, the visible manifestation of God’s kingdom on earth ebbs until it flows; the difference between Israel and the church, I think, is that in our case, the power of Christ will flow through the Spirit to we who are truly united with Him. It isn’t a matter of if (cf. discussion of Daniel 2 below). I recall that Jordan somewhere mentions the tabernacle is emblematic of a man, with its innermost regions (most holy place), stomach (holy place), and feet (pillars) – or something like that. Just as individually, we experience our own exodus from sin and ebbs and flows as we escalate in sanctification towards being glorified temple-bodies of the Holy Spirit, corporately, we see the same in the church. 

[As an aside, this means that I disagree with Jordan’s view of the relation between good works and final justification, his view of the conditional perseverance of those united to Christ, etc. Like Jordan, I do believe ecclesiology, anthropology, and soteriology are tied together (a point to which I will return below). But not all Israel is of Israel, and not all the church is of the Church. I think that the visible-invisible church distinction is sufficient to explain visible ebbs in the manifestation of God’s kingdom. It just takes time for Christ's true body to fully mature in worship and practice, cutting off infectious sources (false members), just as it takes a man time to mature in worship and practice, cutting off sin.]

The next time a kingdom is shaken and a death-resurrection and exodus scattering event occurs, it will be the last, and on a cosmic scale, a crescendo in the escalation in geographic manifestation of God’s king-domain on earth as in heaven – heaven on earth. God’s enemies rather than His people will be finally scattered; in fact, His people will assemble together. Judgment will lead to death, resurrection, and exodus one last time, with true worship being established forever in the resolving of creation judgments alluded to earlier.

Returning to Jordan's "Three Fundamental Cultures": remembering that this pattern was meant to depict a time after the giving of the Law (Israelite history), and given that Israelite history is particularly patterned after patriarchal history, the principle of city judgment, exodus-scattering, and new creation, may not capture but does also apply, for example, to Cain's prediluvian city. Cities which have forsaken God will always be judged, and the remnant of God's people (if such there be) will experience exodus from the city. In Noah's time, the whole earth became the city of man, and judgment led to exodus, this time with Noah being replanted, as it were, as a new Adam in a garden-city, commanded to be fruitful and multiply. This leads me to consider the ark of Noah as a city of refuge, with the ark's door as the gate of entrance. From reading I've done in the past, I am convinced it was a protological temple and microcosm of the universe. Antitypically, Christ is our Temple-City now, our Ark-Gate-Door, the Cosmic Man in whom we will survive the coming baptism by fire and be planted in the eschatological garden-city of Revelation 21-22. There is more to Peter's description of the Noahic flood as the end of an epoch that will be matched by the baptism by fire to come than meets the eye (2 Peter 3).

Now, one of my friends on the podcast pointed out that Eden was to become the glorified city of Revelation 21-22 (compare the tree and river imagery in both settings, for example). Thus, the garden is a prototypical city. I recalled that was to happen by Adam's adornment of it with jewels from Havilah - the eschatological end on Adam wasn't somewhere "out there," although he was called to engage in the public domain to glorify the sanctuary. Eden is the first city. When Adam sinned, judgment led to exodus, and humanity was scattered across the face of the earth, awaiting the new creation through the second Adam, whose work tore the temple veil and enabled return access to the sanctuary-city that true churches now enjoy fellowship with in worship.

What is true macrocosmically is true microcosmically: we are called trees in Scripture. Upon conversion, we become temple-houses of the Holy Spirit, the beginning of a sanctifying process of killing sin that ends in city-glorification: adorned, bejeweled, and given robes of glory in being united with Christ. Our eschatological end isn't some "out-of-body" spirit a la gnosticism, although our sanctification of our individual (and corporate) sanctuary-bodies is likewise not [only] found by inward reflection or contemplation but by working out our salvation with fear and trembling in the real world. And as we engage in the real world, different people bring back different jewels with which to adorn the temple: localism and distinctiveness of nation-peoples is preserved even as we are all united in the sanctuary. As the land of Eden was to be adorned – as was the later tabernacle and temple – with gold (etc.), the heavenly Jerusalem will be adorned with us. 

One final picture of this I will present here is the mountain theme. Mountains are constantly depicted as places of God’s presence: His city in which He is enthroned. Eden, Sinai, Zion, and so forth. Mountains are also temples, locations of sacrifice; hence, altars were miniature mountains. We, as living sacrifices, come to the true Mount Zion, the city of the living God (Hebrews 12:22). United to Christ, we are also mountains, living stones built upon the Chief Cornerstone of the Rock of Christ, the builder of His house-church. So when Daniel 2 mentions an uncut stone that grows to become a great mountain and smashes the false body-politic/temple/idolatrous worship – true worship[pers] triumphs over false worsip[pers] – it simultaneously pictures the city-people-worship of God as simultaneously growing to encompass the whole cosmos, scattering God's enemies to establish His kingdom and throne (cf. various parables like the mustard seed, which grows to become a tree of refuge to the nations-birds).

I find that an implication of this excursus is that Christology, anthopology, ecclesiology, sociology, cosmology, and other -ologies of places and people at least tend to mirror one another from first things to last things, from the protological to eschatological. Actions of God and man – soteriological ones, yes, but also pre-redemptive historical actions such as doxology, liturgy, faith, obedience, etc. – are the means by which this glorification from first to last takes place. And, I suppose, Trinitarianism is at root. After all, the chief end of man is the glory-exaltation of God.

There's clearly a lot more than could be fleshed out here, but I leave it to the reader's consideration for now.

Prelapsarian Anthropology: Some Thoughts

Man was created in the image of God (Genesis 1:26-27). All are still images of God (Acts 17:28), though the image has been marred such that one must be conformed to the image of Christ (Romans 8:29). Therefore, what man lost by virtue of the Fall cannot be an essential aspect of the imago Dei. If it were, men would no longer be the image of God.

Gordon Clark thought the essential property of the image of God is the innate faculty to reason. Man is by nature able to reason, and though this ability too has been dimmed due to sin, unregenerates with sufficient experience to occasion its use are nevertheless able to construct and understand propositions and even valid, if unsound, arguments:

The image must be reason because God is truth, and fellowship with him-a most important purpose in creation-requires thinking and understanding. Without reason man would doubtless glorify God as do the stars, stones, and animals; but he could not enjoy him forever. Even if in God’s providence animals survive death and adorn the heavenly realm, they cannot have what the Scripture calls eternal life because eternal life consists in knowing the only true God, and knowledge is an exercise of the mind or reason. Without reason there can be no morality or righteousness. These too require thought. Lacking these, animals are neither righteous nor sinful. (link)

There are some who have argued that man’s image must be understood with respect to his given tasks as well as the capacities used to fulfill said tasks (Genesis 1:28; link). However, I think this doesn’t work for a few reasons. Firstly, seemingly even on that view it is the last Adam rather than men who fulfills the stipulations of the Adamic covenant (see here and here). That being the case, if the or an essential feature of the image of God were functional, men would not and seemingly could not any longer image God. Secondly, considering Vos’ argument in Biblical Theology (pgs. 22-23) to the effect that if man’s function were an essential element in his makeup, he would have already known it, the fact Adam received special revelation explaining his function mitigates against the notion that it was essential to humanity:

The provision of this new, higher prospect for man was an act of condescension and high favour. God was in no wise bound on the principle of justice to extend [the covenant of works] to man, and we mean this denial not merely in the general sense in which we affirm that God owes nothing to man, but in the very specific sense that there was nothing in the nature of man nor of his creation, which by manner of implication could entitle man to such a favour from God. Had the original state of man involved any title to it, then the knowledge concerning it would probably have been formed part of man’s original endowment. But this not being so, no innate knowledge of its possibility could be expected. Yet the nature of an intensified and concentrated probation required that man should be made acquainted with the fact of the probation and its terms. Hence the necessity of a Special Revelation providing for this.

Does this mean fulfilling the Adamic covenant would have been by grace? No, for Adam's obedience to the dominion mandate in Genesis 1:28 and precept in Genesis 2:17 would have been the grounds for his inheritance. The point is that Adam's merit would have been pactum rather than condign. This is dissimilar to the covenant of grace in which our "personal obedience" is no longer the grounds for meriting our inheritance:

Man had been created perfectly good in a moral sense. And yet there was a sense in which he could be raised to a still higher level of perfection. On the surface this seems to involve a contradiction. It will be removed by closely marking the aspect in regard to which the advance was contemplated. The advance was meant to be from unconfirmed to confirmed goodness and blessedness; to the confirmed state in which these possessions could no longer be lost, a state in which man could no longer sin, and hence could no longer become subject to the consequences of sin. Man's original state was a state of indefinite probation: he remained in possession of what he had, so long as he did not commit sin, but it was not a state in which the continuance of his religious and moral status could be guaranteed him. In order to assure this for him, he had to be subjected to an intensified, concentrated probation, in which, if he remained standing, the status of probation would be forever left behind. The provision of this new, higher prospect for man was an act of condescension and high favour. (Biblical Theology pg. 22)

Thus, contrary to certain arguments against a Reformed anthropology, while there may be some similarity to Pelagianism in respect to one's personal obedience being the ground of fulfilling the Adamic covenant and inheriting eternal life, because Pelagians do not believe Adam was concreated morally upright, to argue against Reformed anthropology by alleging a correspondence between the two is specious.

Given the doctrine of original righteousness – that the moral character of man’s nature was indeed “very good” – the nature of what would have been merited by Adam is an interesting question. Is the implication that if he had completed the dominion mandate, then Adam would have merited eternal or, as Vos put it, “confirmed” life? It would appear that way, as Adam already possessed life, albeit mutably. The mutability of this life and the correlative righteousness mean that these too cannot be regarded as necessary to be in the image of God (although they may be necessary for healthily being in the image of God).

Aside from man’s rational faculty, one final common suggestion as to what distinguishes man as in God’s image is his [alleged] possession of “free will,” by which I mean not only the ability to choose – for Reformed Protestants believe men possess volitions – but also the ability to choose in such a way that it was not externally determined. Some Reformed Protestants think Adam possessed free will prior to the Fall, but it seems to me that there are at least two reasons why this can’t be the case:

1. Adam was originally righteous, so he could not have chosen to eat the apple according to his concreated “nature.” An inference one could draw from this would be that a precondition for Adam’s eating of the apple was the passive reception of a corrupt nature by means of secondary causation, e.g. the temptation of the serpent. Satan’s own reception of a corrupt nature would have had to have been on the occasion of some good, created thing. It is a sufficient defense to note that if God created Satan and other rational creatures with a capacity to be tempted and sin, there does not appear to be any reason to suppose that He could not also have created said creatures with the necessity to sin, given certain circumstances.

2. God’s knowledge of what Adam would choose was predicated on Adam’s actualizing one of two possible choices, God is not eternally omniscient, from which serious consequences for Christianity would follow.

Fesko's "Last Things First" 10

Just as Christology defines anthropology, eschatology defines protology; due to the Fall, one must know what will be in order to know what ought to have been. God’s covenants with men have repeatedly incorporated the idea of the necessity of the satisfaction of dominion mandate on the condition of perfect obedience, but to what end has not yet been examined in detail. In the last chapter of “Last Things First,” Fesko lengthens excursus on the Sabbath from consideration strictly within the circumstances of the Mosaic covenant to the greater context as bridge between protology and eschatology. Fesko’s thesis in this chapter is that, had Adam completed his probative labors, his reward would have been a permanent Sabbath, a rest which, simply put, would have consisted of eternal fellowship with God. If this “Sabbatical principle” is true, it would mean that eschatology precedes and even in some sense defines soteriology, a concept which would certainly have an impact on perspectives within modern theology.

A bilateral covenant possesses stipulations which have a terminus; a covenant with conditions that cannot be met is nonsensical. When considering whether not Genesis 1-2 contains evidence which could substantiate a claim that the ultimate end of Adam’s covenantal work was the Sabbatical principle, it is important to keep in mind that whatever else the case may be, had Adam completed his tasks, something would have had to happen. Merely from a probabilistic standpoint, then, that Adam’s efforts to subdue the surrounding disorder was analogous to God’s creative activity would at least mean it is reasonable to suppose that, upon the complete subjugation of all things to himself as God’s right hand, Adam would have, like God, rested. Also, if the sacramental function of the tree of life did not represent eternal life, it is difficult to imagine what it could have represented. Eating from the fruit of the tree of knowledge cost Adam his life; ostensibly, eating the fruit of the tree of life would have antithetically rewarded Adam with eternal life, life in which Adam would have gloried in God’s presence with His extensive family, ceasing any further duties which could have cost Adam his life.

Because Adam sinned, the means by which the Adamic work must be appropriated to those who themselves do not possess the capacity to satisfy the covenant of works is different. However, God’s plan throughout redemptive history is consistent with His design for the first Adam: He didn’t change the vocation for the second Adam (prophet, priest, and king), He didn’t alter the covenantal work for the second Adam (the dominion mandate), and He didn’t compromise the means by which the second Adam’s work must be accomplished (perfect obedience). In light of the harmony between the two federal heads of the covenant themselves, then, the burden of proof is on one who believes God has purposed the eschatological goal of the second Adam’s work to be different from that which He purposed as the eschatological goal of the first’s work to explain why he believes so. By considering the import of the Sabbath throughout redemptive history, then, one should have a fair understanding of its connection to Genesis 1-2.

As was mentioned in a previous chapter, Fesko points out that, insofar as the Sabbath pertains to soteriology, it is evident in passages like Exodus 31:13 and Hebrews 4 that salvation must be by grace alone through faith alone. The Sabbatical typifies God’s work to save us and our inability to do anything to cooperatively merit it, which, in redemptive history, is the point at which the foreshadowed need for Jesus and salvation “solus Christus” becomes clear. To work on the Sabbath must merit death (Exodus 31:14-15), because such work suggests that the worker believes he can merit his own salvation (Romans 6:23). As the fourth commandment in the 10 commandments and the sign of the covenant itself, the Mosaic covenant was the first instance since the Fall that the concept of the Sabbath enjoyed explicit emphasis. If one can discern the way in which Israel – who was, like Adam, a son of God (Exodus 4:22, cf. Luke 3:38) and priestly kingdom (Exodus 19:6, cf. Genesis 1:28) placed in Paradise (Exodus 33:1-3, cf. Genesis 1-2) – related to the Sabbath – given to each son of God upon completion of the creation of the contextual tabernacles (Exodus 25-31, cf. Genesis 1-2) – the protological relation between Adam and the Sabbath can in turn be better understood.

Of course, that the Sabbath possesses a soteric quality in the Mosaic covenant (e.g. Exodus 31:13) is disanalogous to its function in pre-redemptive history, but the antitypical reality to which each concept points is the same: rest or cessation from work (Exodus 31:15, cf. Genesis 2:2-3). The author of Hebrews, commenting on Numbers 14 in chapters 3-4, sheds more light on Israel’s relation to the Sabbath to stress the necessity of a persevering faith to his readers (Hebrews 4:3); it is noteworthy that he equates true believers with God’s household, which recalls one to Adam’s office as priest within the garden-temple (4:6). The author’s primary point, made in 4:8-11, is that entering the promised land itself was no more what it meant for Israel to enter the Sabbath than it was for Adam to simply dwell in Eden. This presupposes, however, that there is a real Sabbath into which the people of Israel – and his readers – would enter: a true, antitypical Sabbath which can only be attained if one perseveres in faith (4:3). This binds the protological to the eschatological. Each respective paradise was meant to be a type of the heavenly Paradise into which each person would really enter upon completion of the stipulations of the covenant, which reveals more clearly why God regarded the Sabbath as an everlasting sign between God and His people (Exodus 31:17).

Because only Christ could complete the covenant of works subsequent to Adam’s fall, He must and has entered into the Sabbath rest first (Hebrews 10:12-13). An important point that the author makes is that while Christ’s labors have ceased, the outworking of those labors continues. The creation is not “consummated,” but it is ensured. The dominion mandate – specifically, kingship – is mentioned in 10:13, but one could just as easily apply this concept to Christ’s role as intercessor, advocate, multiplier of children in the divine image, &c. His life and death, however, satisfied all the requisite demands of the covenant of works and its curse, so He really did complete all His labors on the sixth day of the week, resting on the Sabbath (John 19:31). Christ was aware His resurrection would begin a new creation from the beginning of His ministry (Luke 4:18-21), and the year of Jubilee to which He referred is, in fact, the Sabbath year (Exodus 23:10-11, Leviticus 25:7-18). This inaugurated new creation begets a new Sabbath day: Sunday, the first of the week on which Christ was raised (John 20:1). The reason is simple: unlike the covenant of works and Mosaic covenant, each of which illustrated the necessity of working for one’s salvation in order to be saved and enter rest by placing the Sabbath on the last day of the week, Christ’s completed work demands a change in perspective as to how one views salvation and God’s covenant with man – i.e. sola gratia – and correlative change in the structure of the week. Because Christ’s work has already guaranteed the covenant of works is fulfilled for believers, rest precedes work in new creation. Having been baptized into the new creation by the washing of regeneration, the believer exists in the “already-not yet” age in which there is work yet to be done (Romans 6:4), although it is work which Christ has already purchased.

Any covenant between God and man has a purpose. Because Adam sinned, it is necessary to examine the last things to know what the first things ought to have yielded. Because the eschatological goal is rest in every covenant in redemptive history – not to mention the scores of other parallels between the covenant of works, its republications, and the new covenant – it is illogical to assume that the Sabbatical principle has no roots in protology and covenant theology. Because the Sabbath is imbued with soteric implications since the Fall, however, the telos of the new creation will be different than the old; the elect will be clothed in Christ’s righteousness (Revelation 7:9-14) rather than stand naked before God. Christ’s work does not merely expiate sin and put mankind back in the prelapsarian state, His righteousness is imputed to believers, who are thereby regarded as having completed the covenant of works. One should consider that whatever occurs is inevitably a means towards this end, which actually promotes eschatology as among the first of doctrines which should be taught and considered in one’s hermeneutic approach to Scripture. In other words: “Last Things First.”

Final observations: This was simply a great book. It’s certainly inspired thoughts that I’ve never considered and allowed me to better understand the interconnectedness of Scripture. Covenant theology and eschatology were subjects which intrigued me but always seemed to be handled with too little care or in too technical a fashion for me to maintain any attention. This, however, was a meaty book put together in an easy-to-read fashion. I knew Fesko was a great lecturer, now I know he was a great writer. I’ll certainly look into his future works (including a forthcoming book on baptism), and I encourage anyone who found this review helpful to grab this and other books by the author. Thanks, Dr. Fesko.

Fesko's "Last Things First" 9

In addition to the regenerative work of the Spirit to which both circumcision and baptism allude, both sacraments also are connected to Christ’s death. The bloody sacrament of circumcision foreshadowed the propitiatory death of the coming Messiah who would fulfill or secure the conditions of salvation for those who will believe, by which one could know whether or not he adhered to the Abrahamic covenant in which God promised Abraham to bless all nations through him. Because Christ lived, died, and was resurrected as the innocent God-man, however, the that to which circumcision actually points has been fulfilled. To continue to require circumcision as a rite of introduction to the covenant community, then, would be another form of law salvation, as it would at least imply circumcision did not receive its teleological end in Christ. Bloodless baptism is the new covenant’s analogous sacrament, but it pictures the way in which an elect individual becomes united to Christ’s resurrection as well as His death; in the same way Christ was buried and resurrected, so too God buries the old man by regenerative work of the Spirit and resurrects His elect – as He did with Christ – as new creations made alive in Christ by faith (Colossians 2:11-13). God’s promise to Abraham is reality in the new covenant, and this reality is depicted by baptism, not circumcision (Galatians 3:27-28).

The goal of the covenant of works, the realization of the dominion mandate, did not change with the coming of the covenant of grace. The means, not the goal itself, have changed, insofar as it is no longer mankind as such who bring to pass the stipulations of the dominion mandate in perfection. Jesus is the second Adam, not the church. Just as the requirements of God’s original covenant with man – unwavering obedience to His law – did not change, so too Christ must, in order to be the successful second Adam, bring about the multiplication of the divine image throughout the whole earth, subdue and exercise dominion over the inhabitants of the earth itself, and do so with a helpmate. By His death and resurrection, not our deeds, Christ indeed continues to do this. Philippians 2:5-11 has already been mentioned as a passage which links Christ’s humble obedience as God-man, His procreation of the divine image by conformity to His image, and the Father’s exaltation of His name such that all will acknowledge Him as King. The second half of Fesko’s fifth chapter draws out more explicitly how the goals are achieved by Christ.

1 Corinthians 15:20-49, like Romans 5:12-19, is pregnant with protological meaning. Just as all men in Adam die, all men in Christ live (15:22). Of course, in order for believers to live, Christ must have been raised first, as it is to His image men are to conform (15:23, cf. Exodus 23:19). It is a certainty that all will live in Christ, however, since He has by His sacrifice accomplished all necessary conditions which need to be met for His people to be saved (Romans 8:32). As this grace which He has procured is more and more applied throughout the world at times of God’s eternal appointment, Christ is accomplishing the command to multiply the earth with men in the [renewed] divine image (Romans 8:29, Philippians 2:20-21). This renewal is regeneration (15:42-45, cf. 1 Peter 1:23-25), and having already shown that the Spirit’s regenerative work as the beginning of the grace by which one is conformed to the heavenly image (15:47-49) is intrinsically annexed to baptism and recreation, it should come as no surprise that both are found in context (15:29-30, 36-41). It seems Genesis 1-2 is implicitly found in every verse. Furthermore, just as Adam was to subdue all things such that he would be the immediate authority under God, Paul writes that Christ is the eschatological fulfillment of Psalm 8:6 (15:27). He will wipe out every power which opposes His Father, including death, and He will have thereby merited the position of King of Kings (15:24-26, cf. Psalm 2, Daniel 7, cf. Revelation 13-14). In fact, He has already defeated these enemies Himself – even death – by His resurrection, a vindication of His righteousness and capacity to be the eschatological Adam.

Of course, for the Christ to be the true second Adam, He must have a true bride with which to generate children in His image, and here Fesko ties in ecclesiology to Christology, protology, and eschatology, for he notes that Paul regards the church as Christ’s antitypical helpmate in Ephesians 5:21-33. It sounds obvious when one thinks about it, yet the implications are profound. It was no more good that Christ should bring about the goals of the dominion mandate – goals which His work alone could effect – than it was for the first Adam to attempt to do so. The church is woman in Genesis 1-2 (Isaiah 54:5-8, John 3:29), yet a woman who will no longer be seduced by Satan’s temptations (Revelation 21:2, cf. Ezekiel 16, Hosea). Paul’s revelation of the relationship between Christ and the church functions as an explanation of the ways in which they interact: Christ as head, church as body; Christ as authoritative, church as submissive. Believers are not to be static after salvation – in fact, it is not a stretch to suppose co-working with Christ is a means of conformity to His image, as such would reflect what would seem to be an appropriate inter-connectedness of biblical theology. Regardless, Jesus made it clear in the Great Commission that the church was to spread His name throughout all nations (cf. Romans 10:14-15), and the reason He did not do this on His own should by now be evident: because the assistance of the church is necessary in the same way woman was necessary for Adam to have protologically fulfilled the dominion mandate (compare Genesis 22:18 to Matthew 28:19). The church is God’s chosen means of effecting His predestined, merited goals. She spreads the gospel which, when the Father sends His Spirit to regenerate an individual unto the image of Christ, adopts the newborn believer into God’s family so that he or she can further propagate God’s word, literally extending the temples of God in which the Holy Spirit dwells and which we are, as a royal priesthood, to treat with care. The primary point is that the dominion mandate is fulfilled spiritually, not physically (John 1:12-13), which is why Paul – who didn’t marry – could call Timothy and his other disciples his own children (1 Corinthians 7:8, Titus 1:4, &c.).

In the final section of this chapter, Fesko considers John’s Revelation, which describes the eschatological completion of Christ’s work, the goal of God’s covenants with men. All prophetic writings point toward a savior who will fulfill the dominion mandate (e.g. Psalm 72:8), not only for Israel, but for all nations (e.g. Isaiah 49:6). Not only does Revelation 5:9-12 confirm this, it is paralleled to 4:11 – each passage entails songs of glory for God’s creation and redemption, synthesizing the two acts of God once again (cf. 7:9-12). Because the temple-paradise will have been typologically extended to all nations in His elect, God will be able to once again dwell among the church, Christ’s bride (21:1-3). Genesis 1-2 is interwoven to every face of the eschatological city: its position on a mountain (21:10), the precious metals which form the city (21:18-20), the flowing rivers (22:1), and the tree of life itself (22:2) around which all fruit-bearing believers reside. Apocalyptic literature, however, foretells that this new, enormous Eden will be even more glorious than the first: it will be lighted by God Himself (21:23, cf. Isaiah 60:19, Ezekiel 43:2-5) and His dwelling among the community of those in the image of the new Adam will be immanent, not mediated (21:22, cf. Ephesians 2:19-22, Hebrews 3:6, 1 Peter 2:5); there will, then, be no night, for He is always with us (21:25, 22:5). Glorified believers will be able to serve Him face-to-face (22:4) uninhibited by the prospect of sin (21:26-27, 22:3), clothed by Christ’s righteousness (19:8) and praising the Triune God (4:8). That is the way things are meant to be.

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Thus far, Fesko has established that the first Adam, made in the image of God, was a prophet, priest, and king who was set in a primeval temple, Eden, which was the holy of holies in the cosmic tabernacle. This Adam existed in a covenantal relationship with God in which he was commanded to multiply, fill the earth, and extend his domain and rule all things with the help of his mate, the goal being that, as God’s vicegerent, he could extend Paradise and conquer the external chaos like God did in His creative work so that God’s presence and glory would extend to the ends of the earth. Upon fulfilling this dominion mandate, Adam would have, like God did, become indefectibly blessed and rested from his covenantal work; the Sabbath would have become a reality. Because Adam failed to follow the stipulations of the covenant, however, the curse of the covenant was placed on him: the image of God in mankind is thusly corrupted, we have become necessarily mortal, and we are in need of saving from God’s wrath. The subsequent covenants God made with men in the Old Testament each republish the covenant goals for the first Adam, yet they all display the impossibility for man to attain these goals. The law, God’s standard of righteousness has not been compromised. Hence, each of these covenants – especially the [Adamic] covenant of works itself – prefigure the coming Messiah who would be able to set His people right with God, as He would fulfill the requirements for them and the goals with them. It is to the antitypical life and work of this Messiah, the essence of the gospel, to which Fesko now turns.

The context surrounding Christ’s work is highly reminiscent of Genesis 1-3. Like Adam was: Jesus Christ is the image of God, to whom all men must now conform (Colossians 1:15, Romans 8:29); He is God’s Son; He is prophet, priest, and king (Hebrews 1:1-3, 7:23-25, 10:9-14); He was tempted with half-truths for 40 days by the devil (Luke 4:1-13), which some have suggested is meant to parallel the length of time Adam was in the garden before he succumbed to temptation. Unlike Adam: Jesus’ image was never corrupted; He never needed to be adopted by God; He was a perfect in His ability to keep His three-fold office; Adam’s surroundings during his probative period was bountiful whereas Jesus was tempted in wilderness where He fasted.

Moreover, Jesus was baptized prior to His temptation, which signals the beginning of the work of the mediator of a new, better covenant. Christ’s baptism and allusion to the Holy Spirit as a dove in Luke 4:22 should recall one to the hovering Holy Spirit during creation (Genesis 1:2) and subsequent aerial imagery during typological [re]creations (Genesis 8:11, Exodus 13:21-22, Deuteronomy 32:11). The deluge, which was an undoing of creation, enabled Noah and his family to be saved by water (1 Peter 3:20) as were Moses and the Israelites (1 Corinthians 10:1-2) – that is, by waters which could on the occasion of this destruction effect a completely new creation. Baptism puts to death the old by creating the new, which is seen too in soteriological terms as well (Colossians 2:11-15): being dead in sins, God puts to death the old man by the regenerative grace of the always present Holy Spirit, after which the elect individual is immediately raised with Christ unto faith and righteousness (cf. Romans 6:1-4, Galatians 3:27, Ephesians 2:1-6, 1 Peter 3:21-22). In the same way, Christ’s baptism anticipates that He will put to death the old, Adamic means of attaining righteousness, works, by the creation of new means, grace alone (Romans 8:32), which He will purchase for His people by obeying the covenantal stipulations by His own works.

After rebuffing Satan’s temptations, Christ was evidenced as qualified to begin his ministerial work. In consideration of this work, Fesko chooses to utilize Philippians 2:5-11 to clarify more protological connections to Christology. Philippians 2:5 reiterates a point already established: that the image in which man was created has been corrupted such that he must now become transformed to Christ’s in order to recapture the intimate fellowship with God he had in the garden. Why? Because Christ, who is in the image of God, did not, as the first Adam did, regard equality with God as a thing to be grasped (2:6, cf. Genesis 3:4-5); that is, even though the Son is co-equal with the Father (Isaiah 6:1-8, John 12:41), He did not seize upon this fact during His life on earth advantageously in order that we who need to be conformed to Christ’s image could have an appropriate pattern – as persons obviously not equal to God – to follow. Adam, who wasn’t equal to God whatsoever, did try to use his position greedily. Christ, the humble servant, obeyed the will of His Father even to His [necessary] death (2:7-8), which is a point Paul uses as a contextual argument for the privilege of suffering for God’s sake (1:29-30): because it is necessary for renewal of the mind. Because of this active and passive obedience, Christ secured all the conditions necessary for the fulfillment of the covenant of works and its application to us.

Romans 5:19 particularly expresses how those under the respective federal heads are either condemned or made righteous by one man’s work: imputation (cf. 1 Corinthians 15:22, 2 Corinthians 5:21). Christ’s life and death made possible a substitutionary atonement by having paid for the curse of the covenant and obeying its ordinances. Those who are under the Mosaic covenant (who are also under the Adamic covenant) are made clean by Christ’s death (Hebrews 9:15-22), as He who a part of the inauguration of the covenant must bear the antitypical curse of the covenant (Jeremiah 34:17-20, cf. Genesis 15:8-17, Exodus 24:3-8). Just as the Father would have had to bear the oath curse in the Abrahamic covenant if His promises to Abraham were in vain (Hebrews 6:13-19), so too either we must bear the penalty for having transgressed the law covenant – a penalty which we can never erase by works alone – or have Christ bear it for us (Matthew 26:28).

Christ’s capacity to do this for us is the realization of Adam’s and Eve’s coverings and why we shall not revert to nakedness in heaven: Christ’s righteousness clothes us. As high priest, Christ was able to enter the holy of holies by means of His bloody sacrifice and once and for all obtain the eternal redemption of God’s people (Hebrews 8-10:14), thus sending the cherubim who were set to guard the holy of holies after the transgression of the first covenant (Genesis 3:24, cf. 26:31-33) back to the throne of God (Matthew 27:51, Revelation 4:6-8) so that we may once more approach God. His death on the sixth day of the week functioned as the New Testament deluge such that He could pronounce the old covenant’s means of attaining the goal of God’s eternal covenant to be “finished” (John 19:30). He rested on the seventh day as did God (John 19:31, cf. Genesis 2:1-3), then rose on the first day of the week (John 20:1) in signification of the beginning of the new and final creation, which is why Paul associated it with baptism as has been noted. The elements of this new creation is that with which the next half of Fesko’s chapter is concerned.

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Abrahamic Covenant

God’s covenant with Abraham (no longer Abram) in Genesis 17, a realization of an expectation grounded in Genesis 12:1-7, announced that Abraham would be the father of many nations who God would, like Abraham, bless by an extension of land and fruitfulness in posterity to all ends of the earth (Genesis 18:18, cf. Galatians 3:8). This covenant exemplifies a continually progressive revelation of a covenant of grace, for God no longer merely commanded man to follow the dominion mandate; now, God has declared that He will see to it that man achieves the goal.

In fact, in Genesis 12:7, Abram reacted to the first patriarchal theophany by erecting an altar – a place of meeting with God (e.g. Exodus 20:24) and priestly sacrifice (Noah, Cain, and Abel, Noah; cf. Genesis 8:20, Hebrews 11:4) – testifying to the hope of a return to Edenic intimacy between God and man as well as the importance of spreading God’s presence, the goal of the dominion mandate, post-Fall. That Abraham (e.g. Genesis 12:8) and his descendants (Isaac, Jacob, etc.) continued to build altars and that they did so in the midst of trees (e.g. 12:6, 13:18) on eastern mountaintops (e.g. 12:8, 22:9-14) plainly strengthens the protological ties. Coinciding with this Edenic recollection, Geerhardus Vos similarly noticed that Canaan, the land promised to Abraham, “…was afterwards the scene of the highest permanent theophany of the Old Testament (i.e. the temple) and therefore typical of the final consummate state of the theocracy” (Eschatology of the Old Testament).

Abraham’s actions remind one that while God’s promise to Abraham wasn’t obligated, He did expect that Abraham would respond to it by obeying His precepts (17:2), including the application of the covenant sign, circumcision, to himself and his offspring (17:9-14). Circumcision, like all covenant signs, signified divine activity and grace to which recipients were called to respond in faith, here on pain of excommunication. There is a sense in which the Abrahamic covenant was bilateral, then, but that God stated as matter of fact that Abraham would inherit the aforementioned promises is an indication of the efficacy of God’s grace upon man’s will (Genesis 15:18, cf. Hebrews 6:13-19).

There are further statements in made in the context of the Abrahamic covenant which are definitely connected with Genesis 1-2 and the new covenant. Abraham was essentially treated as a king (17:6), the role of Adam (intended) and Christ (realized) over creation as covenant heads. Next, in Genesis 12:3, God tells Abram that men will be blessed or cursed depending upon whether or not they bless or curse him, as is the case with Jesus (John 3:18). Yet another correspondence is the bloodiness of circumcision typified in Christ’s coming sacrificial death which, since He is now risen and reigns, was teleologically fulfilled and thusly replaced by baptism, an analogous sign in the covenant of grace (Colossians 2:11-15); also, the significancy of both of these signs is the regenerative work of the Spirit in which the elect individual is made a new creature in the image of Christ. This presages Christ work in fulfilling the dominion mandate, which Fesko addresses in his next chapter, but it also bespeaks of a link Paul makes between protology, eschatology, and God as omnipotent Creator: the God who is able to create ex nihilo by fiat is able to similarly create a father of many nations (Romans 4:17) and create new hearts (Ezekiel 36:26-27) in His people to effect the fulfillment the dominion mandate.

Mosaic Covenant

Briefly reviewing what elements of the Mosaic covenant have already been anticipated: the construction of the cosmic tabernacle in Genesis 1-2 parallels the construction of the tabernacle, temple decor and priestly functions parallel Adam’s intended work within Eden, and the structures of the Adamic and Mosaic covenants are analogous. Also, the Mosaic covenant is rooted in the Abrahamic (Exodus 2:24, 3:6, cf. Genesis 15:13-14), and that the context of this groundwork also mention that God appeared to Abraham and his posterity as well as Moses (Gen 17:1, 26:2, 35:9, cf. Exodus 3:2, 16) shows the special nature of theophanies to patriarchs.

The Mosaic covenant itself is fairly straight-forward. It was bilateral except insofar as God determined the terms (Exodus 19:5). It was given to Moses and Israel soon after their deliverance from Egypt (19:1), and detailed explanation of its stipulations, blessings, curses, &c. can be found in chapters 19-31. More important for the purposes of Fesko’s book is to note that content of the covenant as well as its structure and bilaterality is similar to the covenant of works: “you shall not [eat/murder, steal, &c.]” (Genesis 2:17, Exodus 20:13-17); Leviticus 26:6-12 is a lengthened echo of the dominion mandate of Genesis 1:28; the blessings and curses of each covenant are also analogous (Genesis 1:28, 2:15-17, Deuteronomy 7:12-13, 8:19).

Further protological types are apparent when one considers the nature of Israel and its promised land (Isaiah 2:2-5). Israel, like Adam, is called God’s son (Exodus 4:22, Luke 3:38). It was a priestly kingdom (Exodus 19:6), an apt description of Adam’s domain and that of believers in Christ (1 Peter 2:5). Canaan itself recalls one to Edenic luxury; it was a land of milk and honey (Exodus 33:1-3, Numbers 13:27, e.g. Ezekiel 47:12). Given the nature of these patterns, it is not surprising to find that the goals of the Mosaic covenant are similar to those of the Adamic covenant: each purports to extend God’s presence to all the ends of the earth (Genesis 1:28, Isaiah 49:6).

The context of the covenant also marks its ties to Genesis 1-3. The [re]creation of Israel out of the Egyptian slavery is, like the Noahic deluge, a type of new creation which finds its antitype in the regeneration of the elect, discussed next chapter. The avian imagery (Exodus 13:21-22, 40:34-38, Deuteronomy 32:10-11, Haggai 2:5), the Holy Spirit’s witness to the construction of the tabernacle (Exodus 31:3) in conjunction that the Hebraic phrase for “spirit of God” is always used in the context of tabernacle construction – unless Genesis 1:2 be the exception, which rather strengthens the typological reference to creation as a cosmological tabernacle in which Eden was the holy of holies – the baptism of Israel (1 Corinthians 10:2), that deliverance typifies God establishing His creation and defeating chaos (Isaiah 51:9, Psalm 89:10), the introduction of Yahweh as Elohim who brings light from darkness (e.g. Exodus 13:21), divides the waters (e.g. 14:21), draws up dry land (e.g. 14:29), and commands observance of the Sabbath (Heb 4:3-10)... if we add to these protologically relevant observations that Israel is said to be the son of God and that goal of God’s covenant with them is, in essentials, the same, the Mosaic covenant coheres remarkably coheres with the Adamic.

All elements were in place, then, for a repetition of the commands of the Adamic covenant, even though it was not a live possibility that Israel could fulfill it. Like the command to Noah in Genesis 9:1-7, Israel disobeyed and were, like Adam, ejected from their respective paradise. Hence, one should rather view the Mosaic covenant as a republication of the covenant of works insofar as God’s law – “…summarily comprehended in the 10 Commandments” (WCF Shorter Catechism) – is still the set standard which all men must meet in order to be righteous. This standard in the covenant of grace is never changed; the means by which one attains it, however, is, and so in another sense entirely the Mosaic covenant can be said to be an administration of this covenant of grace, especially since the sign of the covenant was the Sabbath (Exodus 31:13).

The Sabbath, the eschatological sign of the covenant (Exodus 31:13), is obviously significant; moreover, since we’ve seen that the Mosaic and Adamic covenants are so similar, it does validate the earlier argument that upon Adam’s completion of his probation, he would have rested from his analogous-creation-extension work as did the archetypal Creator, God. Exodus 31:13 furthermore indicates that the post-Fall Sabbath takes on a soteric function it couldn’t have in the covenant of works: i.e. typifying the completion of salvation by grace alone. As soon as God accomplishes the goal of conforming His elect to His own image (remember that Christology defines anthropology) and thus, in effect, completing the new creation, He and they will rest (Exodus 31:17); the sign of the covenant will pass into reality. The purpose of the Sabbath, then, was to invoke the believer’s reflection on the purposes of God’s work for them and the over-arching goals He had for them. It’s also worth noting that the reproduction of the Sabbatical command at the end of the completion of tabernacles (Exodus 31:12, 35:1-2) as well as at Sinai (20:8-11) indicates a recurring theme between creation, temple construction, and rest. Almost unbelievably, Fesko enters into even more specifics with regard to the Sabbath in last chapter of his book, in which he shows how it functions as the bridge between protology and eschatology.

Davidic Covenant

God’s covenant with David, found in 2 Samuel 7:8-17 (cf. 2 Chronicles 13:5), is both unilateral and signified by salt, which is a feature associated with perpetuity (e.g. Numbers 18:19) and designed to emphasize the irrevocability of God’s oath. As God tells Nathan, His promises – which here consist of rest for His people evermore from all enemies, the establishment of an eternal kingdom, and the blessing of David’s seed who was to build that kingdom – stem from the sovereignty of Him who was able to make David, a shepherd, to be the king of His people; the parallel to Christ as Shepherd and King hardly needs further explanation, but analyzing how these promises relate to protology and eschatology should summarize the high points of Old Testament Christological precursors so that Christ’s work itself can in turn be examined.

The seed motif found in the protoevangelium and Abrahamic and Davidic covenants are all promises by God borne out in the immediate offspring of each parents’ child as typification of the true fulfillment by God’s own Son, Jesus, in whom all may find eternal rest (John 5:24). Quick examples: Abel’s obedience prompted Cain, his brother, to murder him, just as the innocent Christ’s blood-brethren would murder Him (Genesis 3:15, 4:1-8, Acts 2:22-23, cf. Hebrews 12:24). Isaac, the son of promise, was nearly sacrificed by his father just as Christ was by the Father (Genesis 22, Romans 8:32, cf. Galatians 3:16).

Solomon’s work too is closely tied to Christ’s work: Solomon was to build the house of the Lord – God’s place of dwelling in Israel’s future temple – which would bring glory to God. This temple, which David began to construct, was built on Mount Moriah, where David had experienced a theophany (2 Chronicles 3:1) at which he built an altar (1 Chronicles 21:26). The protological pertinence of mountain, theophany, and altar imagery has already been covered thoroughly. The specifications of the temple are found in 2 Chronicles 3-5 and include the precious metals, cherubim, and other Edenic allusions. Christ has also built His Father’s house by securing the salvation of believers (Hebrews 3:1-6; cf. Hebrews 8-10) – who are themselves temples (1 Corinthians 6:19-20) – and, as importantly, He has brought maximum glory to God (Romans 9, Ephesians 1, 3). Further ecclesiological and eschatological illustrations will be noted in Fesko’s next chapter. Here, it suffices to understand that the Davidic covenant obviously has more protological roots in addition to the covenant of works.

The temple-extension has also been shown to be one aspect of fulfilling the dominion mandate. While this is addressed in the Davidic covenant, man’s duty to subdue the earth as God’s vicegerent receives greater emphasis here than in earlier covenants. David recognizes, however, that God’s “dominion” and “rule” extends over all things, including the covenant heads who He has ordained to bless by grace alone (1 Chronicles 29:11-12, cf. Genesis 1:28). With the covenant of grace comes the increasing revelation that God alone can enable man to make headway in that which he is obligated to do.

In Psalm 110, for instance, David, who was king and priest, acts as prophet when he foretells of Christ’s subjugation of all things to Himself (compare Solomon’s interaction with King Huram and the Queen of Sheba). Christ’s global authority is equally important for Him to fulfill of the covenant of works for us, and he briefly mentions this passage to confute the religious authorities when He asks how David can be referring to Solomon, his son, as his own Lord. While sonship is necessary for messiahship, it is necessary for the son referenced in the Davidic (Abrahamic, &c.) covenant(s) to be perfect, which Solomon (Isaac, &c.) could not have been. This simply exhibits a New Testament use of the Old to establish that Christ is the prime antitype of all Old Testament covenants and shadows. He is King of all creation, yet He is also, unlike all other Adamic figures, an obedient vicegerent who actually can and does bring to fruition the will of His Father.

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Introduction

When Adam fell, God declared that one would come to conquer Satan in the protoevangelium (Genesis 3:15). That Adam renamed his wife Eve and that they were covered with garments when they left Eden imply that they immediately understood, assented to, and looked forward to the promise that her seed would fulfill the conditions of the covenant as well as the day they could reenter Paradise. Throughout the Old Testament, shadows of this person were meant to progressively enlighten God’s people about the person and work of both Adams and evidence – through implicit references to the covenant of works and typification of the new covenant of grace – that only the God-man could tear the cherubim-decorated veil and bring those whom He saves [back] to the holy of holies, new Eden. From the Westminster Larger Catechism:

Question 34: How was the covenant of grace administered under the Old Testament?

Answer: The covenant of grace was administered under the Old Testament, by promises, prophecies, sacrifices, circumcision, the passover, and other types and ordinances, which did all foresignify Christ then to come, and were for that time sufficient to build up the elect in faith in the promised Messiah, by whom they then had full remission of sin, and eternal salvation.

In other words, while the goal of the covenant (the dominion mandate) has remained, the means of attaining it has changed. What was once possible by works is now only possible by grace. While each Old Testament covenant was administered in a different context and, hence, with different analogical referents, each alludes in some way to the covenant of works and each possesses the same archetypal focus: Jesus and His work. Because a proper understanding of Christ’s work is reinforced by a proper understanding of these typical Old Testament covenants, Fesko’s fourth chapter expresses the important Christological, protological, and eschatological elements in the Noahic, Abrahamic, Mosaic, and Davidic covenants:

Noahic Covenant

Genesis 9 contains the Noahic covenant as well as most of the parallels to Genesis 1-3. In the preceding chapters, the postdiluvian emergence of order from disorder (7:18-19, 8:1, 11, 17, 20-21; cf. John 1:32) inclines the reader to be reminded of the cosmological creation account provided in Genesis 1-2 (1:2, 9, 28, 2:2-3); Noah exited the ark, built an altar, and blessed God for his mercy to him and his family (8:20). In response, God smelled the aroma of rest (a Sabbatical insinuation), said to Himself that He would not to curse the earth because of man, and, interestingly, implicitly reestablished His covenant with night and day. The analogies are many: chaos, avian imagery of the Holy Spirit, land emerging from water (order from chaos), image of God, dominion mandate, temple imagery, Sabbatical principle, &c. are evidences of God’s sovereignty in His ability to control the outworking of His coherent plan as well as the intended conveyances of said plan.

The [re]creation is not the only reason to believe that the Adamic and Noahic covenants are linked. Genesis 9:1-7 is a fairly obvious parallel to the dominion mandate to mankind, who are in the image of God; obviously, the command doesn’t indicate Noah was actually capable of fulfilling it in light of the Fall, and the Noahic covenant was not predicated on this command in any case. Still, the command and the way in which Noah sinned (9:20-23) seem to demonstrate that the author’s overt desire to parallel Noah to Adam: Noah – even though he was a righteous man – got drunk from fruit in a garden-setting, was ashamed of his nakedness and was covered by another, and prompted blessing and curse to the seed (Shemites vs. Canaanites; cf. Cainites vs. Sethites). It is most sensible to understand this mandate and failure to fulfill the mandate as evidence that a new, indefectible Adam was needed.

Given that God was “establishing” a covenant with Noah and not “making” one per se (see part 4), it is not surprising that the Noahic covenant was with all creation or that the author made repeated contextual allusions to Genesis 1-2. The author’s observations, designed to prove that the root of the postdiluvian creation is in the creation narrative of Genesis 1-2, functions as a simple example that the Noahic covenant was not anachronistically constituted in a vacuum. As the Noahic covenant was unilateral (i.e. the promises were unconditional), there are certainly facets of it which are meant to look forward to the New Adam – by whose death and resurrection common grace is made possible – rather than backward to the covenant of works. But this merely proves the point made earlier: the goal of the Noahic covenant in the context of Genesis 9 is the same, but the means of accomplishing it are different. Noah could not himself hope to fulfill the means, let alone the goal, of the Adamic covenant. But if one compares the sign of the covenant, a rainbow, to Ezekiel 1:28 and Revelation 10:1, the Noahic covenant seems to anticipate that a new Adam will restore creation in purity, purchase common grace for all, and fulfill of the covenant of works on behalf of those who bear His image. Also, in the same way the promise has protological significance to creation, so too it has eschatalogical significance, viz. that the elect - new creations - will no more have to occasionally endure God's wrath and judgment upon unbelievers, having been saved in the ark (Christ) through baptismal waters (1 Peter 3:20-21).

Further thoughts: given that the Noahic covenant was established subsequent to the baptismal deluge on which occasion Noah and his family were saved, God’s covenant with His new creation may signify an eschatological promise; that is, it could, in addition to what elements of Christology it foreshadowed, be intended to convey the idea that God’s judgment of men after death will indeed be final. The unilaterality of the covenant, those with whom God covenanted (those who were saved and the renewed creation), the fact that it was the product of the first type of God’s wrath on reprobates, and the correlation which exists between the sign of the covenant – a rainbow – and apocalyptic literature (e.g. Ezekiel 1:28, Revelation 10:1) would support this argument.

[Note: this, like chapter 3, will also be a two-part post on one chapter; I didn't want to try to lump in all 4 major OT covenants into one post.]

Fesko's "Last Things First" 5

Having established that God and Adam associated with one another within the bounds of a covenant, Fesko proceeds to explain the nature of this covenant before considering several scholarly criticisms of it. Much of the content has already been anticipated at this point: the bilaterality of the covenant, the priestly work of Adam in the priestly context of Eden, the Christological parallels, &c., so at this point, Fesko is primarily concerned with explaining the way in which these elements cohere.

The stipulations of the Adamic covenant, expressed most cogently in Genesis 1:28, were for Adam and his helpmate to multiply, subdue the earth, and exercise dominion over it and its inhabitants. Those who recognize the biblicality of an Adamic covenant are in general agreement as to Adam’s actual duties. The goal of these labors, however, is disputed. Some believe that the purpose was merely an occupation. Others had argued that the tilling of the land and reproduction were commanded as an imitation of God’s own creation. These and other interpretations, however, seem to consider Adam’s work as a teleological end in itself. If one recalls that Adam was a priest within Eden, the holy of holies within God's cosmic temple, it is hard to imagine that in this design there is no more meaningful – if underlying – objective than farming for farming’s sake.

Before he clarifies exactly how the dominion mandate identifies with Adam’s priestly typification, Fesko notes the contrast between the Edenic paradise in which Adam was placed and the surrounding chaos which he was to cultivate (2:5-6, 15). Though the land vegetated and it rained both inside and outside the garden (cf. Job 36:27, Psalm 135:7), order only existed inside the garden. There is, then, certainly something to the idea Adam was to rule as vicegerent over creation analogously to God’s rule over the universe (cf. Psalm 8) by organizing disorder, but Fesko presses this point to further include the idea that the dominion mandate was an extension of the garden-temple itself. Fruit-bearing trees, rivers which proceeded from Eden to the four corners of the earth, and precious materials (Genesis 2:9-14) which would have been available to them as they subdued the rest of the earth would have ensured that Adam, Eve, and their offspring could spread “God’s glory to the ends of the earth” without having to leave the confines of their Paradise, after which they would have – as God did – rested (entered into a real Sabbath), their covenantal activity fulfilled.

This function of the covenant of works is also substantiated by the republications of this [old] covenant to other Old Testament foreshadows of Christ, not to mention the archetypes of the new covenant, and Fesko expounds on this in his next few chapters. In the remainder of his third chapter, however, Fesko addresses various criticisms of the covenant of works, using John Murray as the opposing interlocutor.

There are three fundamental arguments against the [Adamic] covenant of works, viz. nowhere in Scripture is the word “covenant” found in conjunction with Adam, covenants are always redemptive and unilateral, and “works” would be an improper adjectival denotation for whatever else one might wish to label God’s relationship with Adam. While the first two arguments are question-begging, as Fesko has already demonstrated that a covenant need not be explicitly identified as such within the immediate context of a given passage (Jeremiah 33:19-20, Malachi 2:14) and Murray offers no other possible interpretation of Hosea 6:7, the third argument is worth special consideration. The argument is essentially as follows:

“From the promise of the Adamic administration we must disassociate all notions of meritorious award. The promise of confirmed integrity and blessedness was one annexed to an obedience that Adam owed and, therefore, was a promise of grace. All that Adam could have claimed on the basis of equity was justification and life as long as he perfectly obeyed, but not confirmation so as to insure indefectibility. Adam could claim the fulfillment of the promise if he stood the probation, but only on the basis of God’s faithfulness, not on the basis of justice.” (Collected Writings of John Murray)

The first problem with this assessment is that if Adam’s obedience was the condition for life as Murray does admit, then grace cannot have been the basis of God’s reward (Romans 11:6). The second problem is that Murray assumes, without further ado, that a reward of eternal life would not have constituted an equitable reward for obedience to the stipulations of the covenant on the basis justice alone, which is why he is led to believe that Adam’s status was actually grounded on grace. But by this argument, it would seem Murray should consider that the fact Adam disobeyed should neither have merited eternal condemnation. What Murray misunderstands is that God is not treating Adam as an equal; rather, He treated Adam within the bounds of the very covenant which He established as Suzerain. A final problem is that Murray fails to parallel the work of the first Adam with the work of the last Adam. If the first could not merit eternal life, how can the last? And if the last cannot, then there is obviously no justificatory foundation for believers. Interestingly, Calvin believed Christ’s merit depends on God’s good pleasure and grace alone, which, if true, would mean that the means of redemption is arbitrary (not to mention Romans 11:6 is here too ignored). In fact, Christ’s obedience is the reason believers are made righteous (Romans 5:19), as He was able to and did procure that which was necessary in order to fulfill the covenant of works, thus establishing a new covenant of grace for those who believe in Him.