The Good News about Easter - We're NOT going to Heaven

At least not as our ultimate destination.

Unfortunately, most Christians are confused about what scripture teaches about life after death. Imprecise language in the pulpit and popular worship music isn’t helping the situation much either. The hymn, “I’ll Fly Away,” is a perfect example of inaccurate eschatology,[1] but most people know it far better than 1 Corinthians 15. Preachers are often fond of proclaiming their excitement about going to heaven. There is even a best-selling book describing a young boy’s description of heaven based on his near-death experience.[2] As will become clear below, I’m not trying to discount Christian hope in life beyond the grave. I’m also not trying to deny that heaven is a place for believers, but I do want to clarify it in light of what Scripture teaches, "heaven" is not our ultimate destination.

Most Christians think of heaven as the place you go to be with God forever after you die. Typically it is thought of as a city in the clouds where people spend time with God. But this is a terribly incomplete description of what the Bible teaches about life after death. It is a description of eschatology that ignores the significance of Jesus’ resurrection as the foundation of Christian hope.

The early Christians believed that Jesus was raised from the dead and that eventually they would be too. The Christian hope is that God will raise believers from the dead when he judges the earth at the end of time. The early believers did not eagerly desire to “go to heaven.” Instead, they longed to participate in the resurrection of Jesus. Heaven is merely a pit stop on the way to a more glorious future – a new earth filled with God’s presence!

Consider some of these passages:

“³⁸ For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me. ³⁹ And this is the will of him who sent me, that I shall lose none of all that he has given me, but raise them up at the last day. ⁴⁰ For my Father’s will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day.” (John 6.38-40)

In his “bread of life” sermon Jesus declares that it is God’s plan to raise the dead and Jesus will participate in raising the dead! This is a bold declaration that surprisingly will be previewed in the resuscitation of Lazarus in John 11.

To the Roman church Paul wrote,

“And if the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit dwelling within you.” (Romans 8.11)

Romans 8 is a masterful description of how our hope in God’s future shapes how we live in the present. Paul is emphatic that if we are believers then we have the Holy Spirit (Rom 8.9), which in turn allows us please God—an impossible calling without the Spirit of God dwelling in us (Rom 8.1-8).

To the Philippians, Paul described his overwhelming desire was:

 “¹⁰ to know [Christ] and the power of his resurrection and the sharing in his sufferings, being conformed to his death, ¹¹ if somehow I might attain to the resurrection from the dead. . . ²⁰ For our citizenship is in heaven and from there we eagerly await a Savior – the Lord Jesus Christ, ²¹ who will transform our lowly bodies to the same form of his glorious body by the energy which enables him to subject all things to himself.” (Philippians 3.10‒11, 20‒21)

Paul describes his hope as the resurrection (Phil 3.10) and confirms that it the hope of all believers to have our bodies transformed (Phil 3.21).

Jesus, speaking to his host a dinner party said, “¹² When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. ¹³ But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, ¹⁴ and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” (Luke 14.12‒14)

Here again, we see Jesus describing how we live today as relevant for the resurrection!

The hope of resurrection is pervasive throughout the apostolic preaching (Acts 2.22-32, 36; 3.13-16; 4.33; 5.29-32; 10.39-43; 13.30-39; 17.2-3, 18, 31-32; 23.6-8; 24.14-16, 21; 26.6-8, 23). The most detailed passage on resurrection is found in 1 Corinthians 15. I would of course suggest reading the entire passage, but there is only space here to quote portions of it:

 ¹⁴ And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith. ¹⁵ And we are then found to be false witnesses about God, for we have testified about God that he raised Christ from the dead. [. . .] ¹⁷ And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. ¹⁸ Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. ¹⁹ If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men. ²⁰ But now Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. ²¹ For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. ²² For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive. ²³ But each in his own turn: Christ, the firstfruits; then, when he comes, those who belong to him.

³⁵ But someone may ask, ‘How are the dead raised? With what kind of body will they come?’ . . .

As usual, Paul answers his own question.

It [the body] is sown perishable, is raised in imperishability; ⁴³ it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; ⁴⁴ it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.

He goes on,

⁵¹ Listen, I tell you a mystery: All will not fall asleep, but all will be changed— ⁵² in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. ⁵³ For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. ⁵⁴ When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying having been written will be, “Death has been swallowed up in victory” [Isa 25.8] (1 Corinthians 15:14-15, 17-23, 35, 42-44, 51-54)

Notice the significance of Jesus’ resurrection for Paul. If Christ is not raised, our faith is useless (v 14), we are lying about God (v 15), we are still dead in our sins (v 17), anyone who has put hope in Christ believed a stupid lie (v 18) and Christians should be pitied as fools (v 19). Apparently, there were some Christians in Corinth suggesting that there is no resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:12-13, 16). Jesus’ resurrection is, according to Paul, the foundation of Christian hope. Not only does it define what Christians believe happened to Jesus in the past, but it shapes their hope for the future – resurrection on the last day!

If resurrection is something that happens at the return of Jesus, as 1 Corinthians makes clear, then what happens to believers when they die? According to the New Testament, when believers die they are in the presence of Christ (2 Cor. 5.8; Phil 1.23; Rev 6.9-11; 7.14-17; 14.13; 20.1-6). Then, at the end of time, when God judges all of humanity, the righteous will be given new glorious bodies and the wicked are judged. Resurrection properly describes the stage of humans receiving new bodies at the final judgment. Until that great day, those who have “fallen asleep” in death are in the presence of Christ awaiting the full glory of new bodies.

Because he was raised, we believe we will be raised. Our bodies will be transformed to be like his. The prayer we learned from Jesus will be answered. God’s kingdom will have come and his desires will be done on earth as they are in heaven (Matt 6.10). Finally, John’s vision will be fulfilled,

“Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ⁴ He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Rev 21.3-4)

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[1] Eschatology is broadly defined as “the study of last things.” It comes from two Greek words‒ eschatos and logos. Eschatos means “end.” It can refer to the last in an order (1 Cor. 15.8), the “last” penny of a debt (Matt. 5.26) or “end” of the earth as in the “furthest region” (Acts 1.8). Logos means “word,” “teaching,” or “study.” The word “Eschatology” did not come into existence until 1844. It was developed by theologians to try and describe a branch of systematic theology.

[2] Todd Burpo with Lynn Vincent, Heaven is for Real: A Little Boy’s Astounding Story of his trip to Heaven and Back, (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, 2010).

GNT2012 - Matthew 5

My reading the NT aloud in Greek prompts ridicule from my wife. She finds my voice stumbling over the foreign words obnoxious, yet I persist. Reading through Matthew 5 I became all the more convinced that reading aloud is good practice.

In the text of Matthew 5 itself there are numerous indictors that these are words for speaking and hearing. At the very beginning of Jesus’ most famous teaching Matthew writes, “having opened his mouth he taught them saying . . .” Matthew draws attention to Jesus’ delivery of this speech. Then throughout the teaching Jesus refers to hearing and speaking sacred words (Mt 5.21, 27, 31, 33, 38, 43) and his contrasting vocalization (Mt 5.22, 28, 32, 34, 39, 44). Exploring the way these words roll of the tongue, even inarticulately, is one step closer to hearing Matthew as the early Christians did.

I expected to see numerous textual variants in Matthew 5. After all, this is some of Jesus’ most uncompromising teaching. Yet the manuscripts have no proclivity to soften the words of Jesus or make them more palatable. Nearly all the textual variations are small changes in verb tenses or word order. There is an interesting textual variant, however, in Matthew 5.44. Earliest manuscripts (Siniaticus, Vaticanus, et. al) read, “But I say to you, ‘Love your enemies and pray for those persecuting you [προσευχεσθε ὐπερ τῶν διωκόντων ὑμας].’” Codex Bezea and some other early manuscripts reads instead of the italicized portion above, “Speak well of those cursing you [ευλογειτε τους καταρωμενους ὑμας].” Other early manuscripts read, “Do good to those hating you [καλως ποιειτε τοις μισουσιν ὑμας],” and others still, “pray for those tempting you [προσευχεσθε ὑπερ τῶν επηραζοντῶν ὑμας].” Each of these readings is very much in keeping with the difficulty of Jesus’ teaching and appears connected to closing beatitudes addressed in the second person (Mt 5.11-12). Ultimately, these additions appear to be an attempt at harmonizing this teaching with Luke’s version (Lk 6.27-28). What is clear is that these textual variants show no attempt to moderate Jesus’ difficult teaching about loving enemies

Barclay on Offensive Grace

I first discovered Todd Still while working on a Thessalonians paper. I found his book Conflict at Thessalonica a model of biblical scholarship. He is rigorously historical, careful in his judgment and pays close attention to the text. Thus I was delighted to stumble upon a volume of essays he edited focusing on the old question of the relationship between Jesus and Paul, Jesus and Paul Reconnected: Fresh Pathways to an Old Debate. The list of contributors includes some of the best NT scholars alive: John M. G. Barclay, Stephen Westerholm, Bruce W. Longenecker, Markus Bockmuehl, Francis Watson and Beverly Roberts Gaventa.

John Barclay’s article, “‘Offensive and Uncanny’: Jesus and Paul on the Caustic Grace of God” draws from Bultmann and Sanders to ask why Jesus and Paul were offensive to their contemporaries. Barclay still considers this question largely unanswered. His suggestion, surprising in a post-Sanders world, but argued brilliantly is that the scandal of both Jesus and Paul was “the enactment of the deeply subversive and sharply caustic grace of God” (5). Indeed, “both enact and express a paradigm of God’s grace that is simultaneously welcoming to the lost outsider and deeply challenging to the insider” (17).

Barclay points out that though Sanders refers to the availability of forgiveness in Jewish literature (Jesus and Judaism, 202-3), Sanders fails to take note of how Jesus’ enactment of that grace is actually portrayed in the gospels themselves. “As the parable indicates, Jesus is dealing with people who can never expect to find social acceptance, the irretrievably wicked, who are permanently subject to hostility or suspicion” (9). Though ideally these sinner-folks had the availability of forgiveness, it was practically speaking socially problematic. It is not that Jesus introduced a new idea of “grace,” but rather he enacted the grace latent in Israel’s traditions. “This dramatic act of generosity emerges out of the ethos of Israel’s traditions and scriptures, but simultaneously threatens to destabilize the categories and norms by which righteousness is defined and covenant maintained” (11). So, the father who loves the hard-working elder son is not celebrating the wickedness of the younger son. Rather, he is attempting to uphold that standard of just activity while simultaneously welcoming the younger son. This, in turn, forces the elder son to submit to the scandal of welcoming back his wicked brother. Here is the subversive grace of God on display.

The revelation of the gospel is equally destabilizing for Paul, who prior to Damascus is the quintessential “elder brother” – righteous according to the law (Phil 3.6). Yet, it was precisely this righteousness that prevented Paul from seeing the grace of God at work in the Messiah. In Barclay’s brief reading of Rom 9-11 he observes the way in which it is God’s prerogative to act with unsettling grace (Rom 9.6-29) which has become a “stone of stumbling” for Israel (Rom 9.30-10.21). In the end, Paul argues that no-one can rest on their elective laurels but only the divine grace (Rom 11.1-32). Thus, “Romans 9-11 is about the bonfire of the vanities, when every social, legal, ethnic, and political support is stripped away by the acerbic, but ultimately redemptive, grace of God” (16). This revelation of grace forces Paul to rethink social identity for the people of God. He can no longer operate under Torah but a new kind of social status quo that operates with caustic grace, a grace that is everywhere imprinted in Torah but easily missed by righteous eyes. Barclay as usual is cautious, not suggesting that Paul got the idea from Jesus but simply noting the striking “congruity between Jesus and Paul on this issue” (17). As Barclay sees it, the enactment of grace is the scandal of Jesus and Paul.

Jesus' Parables as Revealed Wisdom

The commission of Isaiah is a favorite text for a missions sermons. After Isaiah witnesses a glorious vision of God in the temple he hears the fateful question, “Who will I send and who will go for me?” (Isa 6.8). Like a child desperate to please his teacher Isaiah responds, “Look at me! Send me!” The prophet should have waited to hear the message he would be commissioned to give,

Go and say to this people, ‘Surely hearing you will not discern, and surely seeing you will not know.’ Make the heart of this people fat and their ears heavy and their eyes blind lest they see with their eyes and hear with their ears and discern with their hearts and turn and it will heal them. (Isa 6.9-10)

This is a foreboding commission. Isaiah is not called guide Israel to repentance but to turn people away! He alludes to covenant language of Israel’s stubborn refusal to obey God resulting in a divine curse (esp. Exod 15.26; Deut 32.15). The tragedy of this commission, however, is that Isaiah’s call is to announce the curse.

I sometimes hear people say things like, “Well, that’s in the Old Testament so . . .” and then go on to give some explanation as to why the OT is basically irrelevant for Christians. Even if we wanted to dismiss this text as being so “Old Testament,” we couldn’t. Jesus cites Isaiah’s commission to explain his most characteristic form of teaching – parables. Shockingly, Jesus found this message to be a useful explanation of his own ministry. Before Jesus’ citation makes sense there are some important features of Isaiah’s commission that need to be observed.

Typically, call stories are placed at the beginning of a prophetic book (cf. Jer 1.4-19; Ezek 1.1-3.15; Hos 1.1-3). This prompts the question as to why Isaiah’s call is belated to chapter 6. This peculiarity is a reminder that chapter 6 cannot be understood apart from the state of the people to whom Isaiah is called to prophesy. Apart from the context of Isaiah 1-5, the commission seems arbitrarily harsh. How dare God send a prophet to turn people away? In chapters 1-5 the larger picture comes into focus. Isaiah is called to a people who have refused to acknowledge their God (Isa 1.2-3; 2.6-8; 5.11-12), worship improperly (Isa 1.11-14; 3.8-9) and engaged in terrible injustices (Isa 1.15, 21-23; 3.11, 14-15; 5.18-23). Yet, God has graciously promised restoration (Isa 1.18-20, 26-27; 2.1-5; 4.2-6; 6.13b). In light of Israel’s offense and stubborn refusal to repent, the commission is God’s response to an unrepentant people.

The historical context of Isaiah’s prophetical call is relevant to understanding the passage. Isaiah 6.1 explicitly observes a significant chronological marker with the death of Uzziah (c. 739 bc). Early in his reign Uzziah prospered significantly (2 Chron 26.5). He was notable for his military conquests (2 Chron 26.6-8), building projects (2 Chron 26.9-10) and advanced weaponry (2 Chron 26.14-15). Later, however, he was afflicted with leprosy because of his arrogance (26.16-18) and rampant idolatry (2 Kgs 15.4-5). The Bible describes the latter part of his reign and co-regency with his son Jotham (2 Kgs 15.32-38; 1 Chron 27) as characterized by rampant economic injustice (Isa 1.4, 5, 23; cf. Amos 2.6; 5.10, 11) and a broken covenant relationship (Isa 1.3; cf. Hos. 4.6). It was in this context of economic prosperity and spiritual turmoil that the king died. Simultaneously, Assyria was rapidly rising to political dominance. As if these challenges were not enough, the king’s death left a vacuum of political leadership and looming political dangers from neighboring countries (cf. Isa 7.1-2). Israel was on the brink of political disaster and Isaiah is called to tell them there is nothing they can do to stop it.

The foreboding message of Isaiah’s commission is taken up in all four gospels as an explanation for why Jesus is rejected (Mt 13.10-15|| Mk 4.10-12 || Lk 8.10; cf. Jn 12.36-43; Acts 28.26-27). Matthew provides the lengthiest explanation (13.10-15) at a crucial point in his gospel. Matthew’s citation follows the LXX exactly, which in turn follows the MT fairly closely. Jesus explains that the reason for Jesus’ parables is to “completely fulfill” Isaiah 6.9-10 (Mt 13.14). Jesus’ disciples, unlike those who do not “hear,” are privileged insiders because of Jesus’ willingness to reveal himself to them (13.16-17). Parables, then, simultaneously reveal to insiders and conceal to outsiders. Jesus even says that he tells parables to intentional confuse outsiders.

The obvious question, then, is what differentiates insiders from outsiders? In Matthew’s gospel, the revelation of kingdom mysteries is given to those who are close to Jesus (Mt 13.11; cf. 12.15-21; 16.16-20), accept his authority (Mt 11.25-30; cf. 12.7-8; 16.1-4), and have faith (Mt 9.29-30; 16.8-11). Still, this revelation is portrayed as a divine gift first and foremost. This is especially evident in Peter’s confession of Jesus’ identity, which is not revealed “by flesh and blood” but by God (Mt 16.17). Even when God gives grace to insiders, they do not always fully comprehend. Again, Peter is the prime example. After the great confession Peter refuses to accept Jesus’ announcement of his impending death, thus he is described as “Satan” focused on “the things of man” (16.21-23). The difference between insiders and outsiders is their willingness to follow Jesus as divine wisdom exemplified in the cross rather than the wisdom of man.

Jesus used Isaiah’s foreboding commission to describe his own ministry as the revelation of God that separates God’s true people from those that are not. It is interesting that Isaiah’s commission ends with the vague hope that God will preserve a holy seed (Isa 6.13b). This promise, though not cited by Jesus, is fulfilled by him. His ministry divides the true people of God from hypocrites who honor God with their lips but not their lives (Isa 29.13 in Mt 15.8-9). In Matthew’s gospel Jesus is the promised “Immanuel” child (Isa 7.14 in Mt 1.23), the light among darkness (Isa 9.1-2; 42.7 in Mt 4.14-16), and the anointed “servant” (Isa 42.1-3 in Mt 12.17-21) who heals (Isa 53.4 in Mt 8.17). The gospel writers faithfully appropriate Isaiah 6, but place Jesus as the center of its eschatological fulfillment. Matthew intentionally describes Jesus as the hope of Israel. Just as in Isaiah, the reason why people reject Jesus is the refusal of an unrepentant people to recognize God’s revelation.

Jesus in Four Hours

One of the high school students in the church where I serve goes to a public school connected with the nearby university. It's an advanced school where they call teachers "professor," the athletic programs are typically uninspiring, and students are actually expected to learn at a high capacity. So, it's something of a novelty.

A couple weeks this semester students have been given a chance to go to a variety of classes put together by other students. Sometimes the classes are taught by fellow students or by outsiders that a student knows. In this format I've been given a unique opportunity to teach about Jesus in a public high school.

I have roughly one hour for four consecutive days to teach about Jesus. If you had four hours to teach about Jesus to a group of high school students what would you teach? What questions would you want to answer?

This is what I'm thinking so far, but I'm very open to suggestions:

1. The Gospels – what kind of literature are these books? What do they tell us about Jesus? How should we read the gospels? History? Theology?
   
2. The Kingdom – Jesus' primary message was announcing the arrival of God's kingdom. Unfortunately, few people ever hear about the kingdom and what Jesus meant by it. What did Jesus mean when he announced the arrival of the kingdom of God? What did his audience think he was doing?
   
3. The Cross – It is an undoubted historical fact that Jesus was crucified. Rarely, however, do we think to ask why he was put to death. I want to look at both the theology of his death articulated in the early church and the historical motives for putting Jesus to death. Why did he die?
   
4. The Resurrection – Apart from the resurrection, the emergence of the early church is baffling. What did the earliest believers mean when they said Jesus was raised? How did the early Jesus followers become the church?
   

I'm looking for as much interaction as possible. What would you change, ignore, add? How would you teach Jesus in four hours?

Merry X-mas

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the wright jesus and the wrong jesus

The first day of the Wheaton Theology conference focused on N.T. Wright's substantial work on Jesus in Jesus and the Victory of God (JVG). The conference began with a bang. Richard Hays kindly, yet provokingly, challenged Wright's reconstructive project acting as a "fifth evangelist" (echoing Martin Kahler). Hays pushed Wright to answer how the Christian faith ought to influence historical inquiry. He wondered what significance the resurrection has for doing history. Hays asked some crucial questions worthy of much consideration.

Hays wondered how we are to understand the relation between story and history? What relation, if any, do churches, canon and tradition play in knowing the truth about Jesus? Is there a place for historical inquiry to operate outside of a tradition? If so, then what is that place? In what ways might the historical study of Jesus play in apologetics? What ways does Resurrection change our epistemology?

Following right along with Hays' line of questioning comes the glaring absence of John's Gospel, the most clearly resurrection-epistemologically-oriented gospel from JVG. Marianne Meye Thompson, the distinguished scholar of Johannine literature, lamented the exile of the fourth evangelist from the historical Jesus project as a whole and JVG in particular. Still, she imagined Wright's Jesus quite at home in John's gospel. Despite writing one of the best papers of the conference, I have to point out a serious disagreement. I feel like a Chiwawa barking at a Great Dane, but I'm siding with N.T. Wright and E.P. Sanders on this one. Thompson suggests that Jesus did not intend his action in the temple as a condemnation, but a cleansing (Mk 11.15‒18 || Mt 21.12‒13 || Lk 19.45‒46 || Jn 2.14‒22). She suggests that Jesus is offering his body as another temple that will be destroyed, but the literal temple will stand cleansed. I'm currently working on a paper that speaks indirectly to the temple-action in line with Wright's argument. In light of Mark's account, appreciated in all of its literary nuance, it does not work to suggest Jesus' action in the temple was just a cleansing. I also think judgment is part of the meaning of John's gospel, but Thompson surely knows the arguments better than I. These opening papers were probably the highlight of the day.

While Hays and Thompson cast a long shadow, the afternoon papers were not to be eclipsed. The philosopher exegete duo of Brian Walsh and Sylvia Keesmaat challenged Wright to draw out the radical economic aspects of Jesus' kingdom message. In the process they offered a fascinating and fresh reading of Luke 19.11‒27. They suggest that the parable functions as a subversive economic critique advocating "crucifixion economics." They saw this parable as an economically critical retelling of Archelaus' trip to Rome. Understanding the trip to Rome takes a little explanation.

Archelaus was one of Herod's many sons. Despite his best efforts, when Herod the Great died the people of Jerusalem rejoiced. Not only was Herod a villain in life (cf. Mt 2), but he planned to be one in death. Knowing that he was hated by those he ruled Herod gathered a group of Jewish leaders in the Hippodrome with orders to be killed upon Herod's death so that the nation would mourn (1.659‒660). In addition to this narcissistic political tragedy, there was a dispute about the desires of Herod's will regarding a successor. He killed the two sons who seemed the most likely heirs out of jealousy and paranoia. When he died, the Jewish leaders were released and it seemed Archaleus was the designated heir. Still, Archalaus would have to go to Rome to receive his coronation from the Emperor. So, when his Herod's tyrannical reign was over Archelaus maneuvered:

"Now the necessity which Archelaus was under of taking a journey to Rome was the occasion of new disturbances; for when he had mourned for his father seven days and had given a very expensive funeral feast to the multitude (which custom is the occasion of poverty to many of the Jews, because they are forced to feast the multitude; for if any one omits it, he is not esteemed a holy person), he put on a white garment, and went up to the temple" (JW 2.1)

After the expensive funeral Archelaus went to the temple procuring favor among people by promising, among other things, to lower taxes and release prisoners (JW 2.4). As fate would have it, the Passover feast was beginning. With a heightened sense of patriotic fervor and worshiping the God who raises the dead many of the Jews began to protest Herod's tyranny. Archaleus did not want to look the unstable ruler before his trip to Rome so rather than risk a revolt, he sent soldiers on the Passover crowd killing 3,000 (JW 2.10‒13). When Archelaus was before Caesar, the Jewish delegation made this plea against his rule:

They [. . .] went over Herod's breaches of their law, and said that he was not a king, but the most barbarous of all tyrants, [. . .] a very great number had been slain by him, those that were left had endured such miseries, that they called those that were dead happy men; (85) that he had not only tortured the bodies of his subjects, but entire cities, and had done much harm to the cities of his own country, while he adorned those that belonged to foreigners; and he shed the blood of Jews, [. . .] (86) that he had filled the nation full of poverty, and of the greatest iniquity, instead of that happiness and those laws which they had anciently enjoyed; that, in short, the Jews had borne more calamities from Herod
[. . .] than had their forefathers during all that interval of time that had passed since they had come out of Babylon, and returned home, in the reign of Xerxes:  [. . .] they readily called Archelaus though he was the son of so great a tyrant, king, after the decease of his father, and joined with him in mourning for the death of Herod, and in wishing him good success in that his succession; (89) while yet this Archelaus [. . .]began his reign with the murder of three thousand citizens; as if he had a mind to offer so many bloody sacrifices to God for his government, and to fill the temple with the like number of dead bodies at that festival: [. . .] they prayed that the Romans would have compassion upon the [poor] remains of Judea, and not expose what was left of them to such as barbarously tore them to pieces, (91) and that they would join their country to Syria, and administer the government by their own commanders (JW 2.84‒91).

Walsh and Keesmaat suggested, then, that just as these Jews desired the worse-than-exile conditions of Herodian rule to come to an end, those eating at Zacchaeus's table thought surely the exile is over in this Jesus. The parable serves not as a picture of what God is like, but of what empire-economics are like. The hero of the parable, the parabolic "Zacchaeus," is the servant who does not engage in usurious economics for the wicked ruler. The ruler's slaughter becomes a picture of worldly economics and what happens when people refuse to participate‒ they get crucified!

Consider the sharp contrast between the ruler of the parable who says, "Whoever has will be given more, but from whoever does not have, what he has will be taken away" (Lk 19.26 my translation) and Jesus, "Any of you who does not leave behind to all you possess is not able to be my disciple" (Lk 14.33 my translation). Walsh and Keesmaat forcefully showed that our culture has predisposed us to hear the villain as the hero.

Nicholas Perrin located Wright's eschatology in the corporate-political vein of C.H. Dodd and his former teacher-mentor G.B. Caird in opposition to individual-existential eschatology of Bultmann and Bornkamm. He suggested that the proverbial pendulum stop swinging. According to Perrin, Wright ought to give both individual and corporate eschatology a place in Jesus' kingdom proclamation (emphasis for Wright on the individual). Wright concluded the day with a rousing sermon urging Christians to bring together the kingdom and the cross‒ social ethics and individual salvation. I went to my hotel room that evening simultaneously feeling as though I needed to read a hundred books, sleep for a couple days and give a homeless man my Bible and a meal.