The Kingdom of God, Not of Men

Jesus prophesied in Matthew 24 (closely following Daniel 9) that the end will not be driven by human events but by God’s set events and timing: a Daniel-style abomination of desolation, the great tribulation, then earthly and cosmic signs that lead to the parousia, when Jesus will gather his church. Jesus said the exact timing is unknown to humans and angels—even to the Son. Only the Father knows (Matt. 24:36).

Jesus describes his parousia as sudden and disruptive, coming after those events, not as a gradual evolution or "breaking in" of the Kingdom into human, as so-called “already/not yet,” amillennialism, and other end-times views tend to interpret it. In Matthew 24, life is going on “as in the days of Noah,” and then the Son of Man appears and everything changes at once (Matt. 24:30–31, 37–39). That fits the premillennial picture much better than amillennial or postmillennial views, where history slowly transitions into the Kingdom. Daniel 9–12 and Matthew 24 show a pattern: a series of crises → the great tribulation → Messiah’s decisive parousia. The Kingdom does not emerge from history; the Kingdom will break into human history by God’s direct word, not by any man or nation.

Scripture also shows that sin itself is part of God’s judgment. Romans 1 is the clearest example: because people rejected God and worshiped creation, “God gave them over” to their desires (Rom. 1:24–28). So the moral collapse of a society can itself be a form of judgment. In that sense, increasing disorder, pride, and rebellion in a culture can certainly be part of God allowing humanity to reap what it has sown. As Paul warns in 2 Tim. 3:13, “evil people and charlatans will get worse and worse, deceiving and being deceived.” But even then, that is still judgment within history. The final judgment and the arrival of the Kingdom are different, according to Jesus in Matthew 24, when the Son of Man appears and brings to an to this present evil age that leads to the age to come.

Postmillennialism (and often amillennialism in practice) can drift toward a “baptized Babel”—a confidence that history will slowly “become” the Kingdom through human events and industrial–technological advances. But Jesus and Daniel show that the Kingdom finally arrives by God’s intervention—sudden, disruptive, and unstoppable—at the parousia. Meanwhile, Christians are commanded to preach, to endure, and to remain faithful, but we are not called to help engineer the age to come. We are not to be part of the political–military–industrial complex that seeks to bring this about. Only God the Father, by his set times and seasons, will bring the Kingdom through his Son, who will establish the Kingdom on a renewed earth.

In Acts 1, just before his final ascension, the apostles asked Jesus:

“Lord, is this the time when you are going to restore the Kingdom to Israel?”

Jesus replied:

“It is not for you to know times or periods which the Father has set by His own authority.”

Later Peter warns:

"The Day of the Lord will come like a thief. On that Day the heavens will pass away with a terrific noise, the heavenly bodies will melt in intense fire, and the earth and everything done on it will be laid bare. Since all these things are to melt in this way, what sort of people should you be in holy and godly living, as you look out for and hasten the coming of the Day of God? That Day will cause the burning heavens to be dissolved, and the heavenly bodies to melt with intense fire. But, according to His promise, we are expectantly waiting for new heavens and a new earth, where uprightness will live." (2 Peter 3:10-13) 

Hebrew, Israelite, or Jew?

Many Christians note that in the Old Testament “Hebrew” and “Israelite” are broad labels for the twelve tribes of Israel, while “Jew” originally comes from Judah and can be narrower in certain historical settings. But here’s what often gets missed (or conveniently ignored): by the Second Temple period—New Testament times—“Jew” (Greek Ioudaios, “Jew/Judean”) had become the standard cultural-religious designation for the people of Israel as a whole. That’s why the New Testament typically speaks in the simple, audience-ready categories “Jews and Gentiles,” not “Hebrews" or "Israelites vs. Jews,” as though they were separate peoples.

The New Testament itself makes this obvious, especially in John’s Gospel, where “the Jews” often functions broadly as a designation for the Hebrew/Israelite people in religious contrast to Gentiles or Samaritans. Speaking to the Samaritan woman, Jesus says:

“We worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews” (John 4:22).

Here Jesus is referring to the entire salvation-historical story—the promises, the Scriptures, the Messiah, and so on—coming through the nation of Israel as a whole (which would include the Abrahamic covenant), not merely “Judah” in a narrow tribal sense.

In John 8, “the Jews” claim Abrahamic covenant identity (“Abraham is our father” John 8:39) and Jesus argues by defining true sonship by doing Abraham’s works (John 8:39–40). He even calls Abraham “your father Abraham” (John 8:56) and the writer adds:

“The Jews said to Jesus: And you have seen Abraham?” (John 8:57).

Taken together, these verses show that in this context “the Jews” functions as an umbrella term for the Abraham-descended covenant nation of Israel in Jesus’ day, not a narrow “Judah-only” label.

Likewise, before the high priest, Jesus says, “I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all the Jews come together…” (John 18:20). In this context, the term refers collectively to the broader Hebrew/Israelite peoples engaged in "Jewish" religious life (Judaism), not merely some "Judean" only leadership in a strictly geographic sense, a narrow subgroup.

Later, in John 18:36, speaking to Pilate during his trial, Jesus refers to being “delivered to the Jews.” Here “the Jews” functions as a collective term for the Jewish authorities (and, by extension, the nation of Israelites) involved in his arrest and trial. Jesus representing the "Jewish" people, the kingdom of Israel as a whole, in opposition to his coming kingdom.

Other examples include:

• Acts 6:1: “Hellenists” and “Hebrews” are both Jewish believers; the difference is language/culture, not ethnicity (Greek-speaking vs. more traditionally Hebrew/Aramaic).

• Acts 21:40–22:3: Paul speaks “in the Hebrew language” and says plainly, “I am a Jew.” “Jew” is the umbrella; “Hebrew” is the in-language/in-culture marker.

• 2 Corinthians 11:22: Paul piles up terms like “Hebrews… Israelites… offspring of Abraham” as overlapping credentials, not competing identities.

• Philippians 3:5: “Of the people of Israel… a Hebrew of Hebrews” again, a pedigree claim within Jewish identity.

So, “Hebrew” in the New Testament is not “non-Jew.” It typically functions as an internal label for "Jews" in general (cultural, linguistic, or ethnicity) within the wider Jewish world.

While it can be helpful to understand the historical development of these terms, the point is that the New Testament itself does not make this an issue. By that time, “Jew(s)” had already become the common umbrella term, which is why the NT consistently speaks in the straightforward categories “Jews and Gentiles.” Period.

The NT writers were fully capable of using any term in its proper historical settings, yet when it coms to this topic they never do. So insisting that "Jew(s)" is “incorrect” or “confusing” does more than unnecessarily correct fellow Christians today—it effectively amounts to criticizing how Jesus and Paul themselves chose to communicate.

More importantly, in the Messiah such terms (whether framed as “Hebrew,” “Israelite,” or “Jew”) are no longer covenant-defining. The NT repeatedly emphasizes that what ultimately matters is not ethnicity but the faith of Messiah, and living under his new-covenant gospel of the Kingdom (Gal. 3:28–29; Eph. 2:14–16).

That’s why pressing the Hebrew/Israelite/Jew distinction today often misses what really matters. In many cases it ends up being used—especially in some Hebrew Roots circles—to rebuild “the middle wall of separation” (Eph. 2:14) and push the church back toward Torah observance as the defining marker of God’s people. But the Christian message is that in the Messiah the church is now the new-covenant people of God, not a return to debates over outdated semantic distinctions.

Adonai is not adoni!

The Greek phrase kyrios mou translates the Hebrew word adoni, a term never used for God in the Old Testament. This is the word used by David in Ps 110:1 for the second lord, who by Jewish-Christian tradition represent the Messiah. In order to get around this, some Trinitarians claim two exceptions in the Psalms—16:2 and 35:23—where Adonai is also translated as kyrios mou. But even though the phrase looks the same in Greek, what’s going on in each passage is actually different. The contexts, the Hebrew behind the Greek, and the function of the words are not parallel, which means adoni is not the same as Adonai.

In Psalm 110:1, the Hebrew shows a deliberate contrast between two different lords. On the one hand is Yahweh, the LORD God; on the other is David’s lord, adoni, a title never used for Adonai. Hence, “my lord” is not Yahweh, but a distinct figure whom God exalts to His right hand to rule as His royal/messianic human king and priest. The whole psalm functions as a messianic royal oracle, applied in the New Testament to the man Jesus as the exalted Son of God, the Messiah at God’s right hand.

In Psalm 16:2, however, kyrios mou is used very differently. It is a direct address to YHWH alone:

“I say to YHWH, ‘You are my Lord [kyrios mou]’” (Ps 16:2).

Here “my Lord” is simply a confession of exclusive devotion to God Himself, with no second party or contrast involved.

Likewise, in Psalm 35:23 (LXX) we read:

“Awake and attend to my judgment, my God and my Lord (kyrios mou), to my cause” (Ps 35:23).

In this verse, “my Lord” stands in parallel with “my God” and clearly refers to Yahweh alone as the divine defender. It is a direct plea to God, not a dialogue between God and another human, messianic figure.

So the key differences are:

• Referent – In Psalms 16:2 and 35:23, “my Lord” used for God alone (direct address, confession, or plea). In Psalm 110:1, “my lord” is a distinct figure addressed by Yahweh, a royal/messianic human exalted by God.

• Structure – Psalm 110:1 is a dialogue: YHWH speaks to David’s “lord,” highlighting hierarchy and appointment. Psalms 16 and 35 have no such contrast—“my Lord” is simply a possessive way of speaking to the one God.

• Theological function – Psalm 110:1 is messianic and royal, a promise of enthronement and victory for David’s superior human “lord.” Psalms 16 and 35 use “my Lord” in the language of personal piety and devotion to Yahweh exclusively.

Same Greek phrase on the surface, but different Hebrew structure, and a very different point. Therefore, it is shortsighted and contrary to biblical grammar to say Adonai is the same as adoni in Hebrew.