Tag: N. T. Wright

Easter Sunday: The Defeat of Death and the Birth of New Creation

Camaron G. W. SmithLeave a comment

In my last post, I asked a question that sits underneath much of our theology, whether we realise it or not. Did Jesus save us from God, or from sin and death?

This is a question that comes into sharp focus on Good Friday, and Easter Sunday offers the answer.

If Jesus really rose from the dead, Easter signals the single greatest change in reality: the ultimate defeat of sin and death. The resurrection is not about dealing with guilt or our moral standing but about the breaking of powers that hold humanity captive. Because Christ has risen, fears, shame, and failures no longer have the final word. Resurrection is not abstract hope, but a source of real freedom and courage in daily life. This is the heart of the Easter message.

This means the resurrection should not be seen merely as an appendix to the cross. Instead, it is the lens through which we truly understand what the cross accomplished.

The Resurrection Is Not Proof. It Is Victory

We often describe the resurrection as proof of Jesus’ identity and God’s acceptance of his sacrifice. But the New Testament presents it differently.

Paul describes the resurrection not just as proof, but as a victory. “The last enemy to be destroyed is death” (1 Corinthians 15:26). Not managed. Not reinterpreted. Destroyed.

The resurrection is not God saying that a payment has been made. It is God declaring that the enemy has been defeated.

This is why Peter says it was impossible for death to keep hold of him (Acts 2:24). Death could not hold Jesus. Death lost its grip.

From the earliest centuries, the church understood this. Irenaeus speaks of Christ entering into death to undo it from within, recapitulating Adam and reversing humanity’s trajectory (Against Heresies 3.18.1). Athanasius says that by his death and resurrection, Christ “trampled down death by death” (On the Incarnation 27).

This is not just metaphor. It is about reality itself. Something has shifted.

So What Were We Saved From?

If Easter is victory, then we need to ask the question again. Saved from what? Scripture does not present us as saved from God.

Scripture consistently presents God as the one who saves, not the one we are rescued from. “God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself” (2 Corinthians 5:19), not reconciling himself to the world.

What then holds us? Sin. Death. Corruption.

Paul describes sin as a power that enslaves us (Romans 6:6). Death is not just an event, but a force that spreads through humanity (Romans 5:14).

We are not depicted as trapped between an angry God and a moral ledger, but under powers that deform, enslave, and destroy.

Easter tells us those powers have been confronted and broken. Therefore, we do not need to live in fear. In Christ, we are free from the grip of sin and death and can walk in confidence and hope.

The Cross in the Light of the Resurrection

Without Easter, the cross looks like failure. A righteous man executed. Another life swallowed by the machinery of empire and death. But with Easter, we see the cross as the moment when death tried to go too far.

Jesus enters fully into the human condition, even to the point of death on a cross (Philippians 2:8). And in doing so, he allows death to do its worst.

But death cannot hold him. In swallowing Christ, death swallows something it cannot digest.

Paul says Christ has disarmed rulers and authorities, making a public spectacle of them (Colossians 2:15). Their apparent victory is actually their defeat.

Some scholars argue that the resurrection is about life after life after death—the beginning of a new creation breaking into the present (see N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope). Michael Gorman describes the cross and resurrection as a single movement of divine self-giving love that defeats the powers and creates a new way of being human (Cruciformity).

The cross is not set aside by the resurrection. It is more fully understood in its light.

A Garden Again

John tells us that Mary mistakes Jesus for the gardener (John 20:15). It is a strange detail that almost seems unnecessary. Unless it is not.

The story began in a garden. Humanity was called to bear the image of God, to cultivate, and to participate in the life of creation (Genesis 1:26, Genesis 2:15). That vocation was fractured. The ground itself became a place of resistance and decay.

Now, on the first day of the week, in a garden, a man stands alive after death. Mary is not entirely wrong. New creation has begun.

Paul calls Christ the firstfruits (1 Corinthians 15:20). Not an isolated miracle, but the beginning of a harvest. What has happened to Jesus is not unique to him. It is the future of creation brought forward into the present.

God has not abandoned the world. He has begun to remake it. And this work of new creation is not something God does alone. We are invited to take part, to join together as a community in cultivating hope, working for renewal, and tending the places where resurrection life breaks into our world. As we participate in God’s ongoing work, we discover that new creation is something we are called to share and build together.

Unrecognised Life

Yet, no one recognises him.

Mary does not. The disciples on the road to Emmaus do not (Luke 24:16). Even those closest to him struggle to see. This is not incidental.

Resurrection life is connected to this world, but it is not limited to it.

Resurrection life is real, embodied, and tangible. Jesus eats, speaks, and bears wounds (Luke 24:39-43, John 20:27), yet is also transformed and no longer bound or limited in the same way.

The problem is not that the resurrection is unclear; it is that we do not yet know how to see it. For many, this can be difficult. Doubt and uncertainty are genuine parts of the journey for disciples, then and now. If you find yourself struggling to perceive resurrection life, know that you are not alone; those closest to Jesus did not recognise him at first either. As we honestly bring our questions and hopes before God, even small acts of trust can open us to new ways of seeing. Sometimes we borrow others’ faith until we catch a glimpse of resurrection life for ourselves.

Gregory of Nyssa writes of the resurrection as the transformation of human nature into incorruptibility, not the abandonment of embodiment but its fulfilment (On the Soul and the Resurrection).

The risen Christ is not less physical. He is even more alive than before.

The Wounds Remain

Thomas is invited to touch the wounds (John 20:27). This matters.

The resurrection does not remove suffering’s marks, but transforms them. The scars, no longer signs of defeat, become evidence of victory. God redeems, not erases, history.

The cross is brought into resurrection life, not as a sign of shame, but as a sign of glory.

Raised With Him

If this is true, then Easter is not just something that happened to Jesus. It is something we are all drawn into.

“Sin entered the world through Adam, bringing death to all humanity, but through Jesus Christ, righteousness and life are offered to all.” (Romans 5:12)

“We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead… we too might walk in newness of life” (Romans 6:4).

“Set your minds on things that are above… for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:2-3).

Resurrection is not just something for the future; it is participation in the now.

Dallas Willard speaks of eternal life not as duration but as a kind of life, the life of the age to come made available in the present. Easter is the moment that life breaks into history and becomes accessible.

Following Jesus is not just about believing things about him; it is living from a different reality now. This means allowing the hope and freedom of resurrection to actually shape our daily actions and attitudes. For example, when we extend forgiveness rather than hold onto resentment, or when we choose hope in the face of disappointment, we are living out this new reality. Serving others, practising kindness, or showing generosity even when it is difficult are all practical ways in which resurrection life breaks into our world through us. Each ordinary act, offered in trust that Christ’s victory is real, becomes a sign of the new creation at work.

Sunday

Easter Sunday does not just undo death; it breaks its power completely. This is at the heart of the Christian message: death’s rule is over, and new creation has started. It is the end of its authority.

God did not need to be reconciled to us. We needed to be saved from everything that was destroying us.

Sin has been confronted. Death has been undone. Creation has begun again.

And the risen Christ stands, still bearing wounds, still calling our name, inviting us not just to believe in resurrection, but to live out of it.

How to Read Genesis 1–11: Context, Genre, and Theology

scribblingtheology6 Comments

Editor’s note: This is one of my most popular posts of all time. This post was originally written several years ago (2019) and has been lightly updated to reflect developments in contemporary biblical scholarship, while preserving its original argument, tone, and structure. I’ve also recently written a piece on Genesis 1-11 here.

I also recommend watching this video on Genesis 1-11 by Bible Project if you’re more of a visual learner.

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It really all began in Bible college.

I took Intro to the Old Testament and Intro to the New Testament in my first year. Naturally, in the first semester of our OT class, we began to comb through the Torah. But in my NT class, surprisingly, we spent more time in the Old Testament and then in the intertestamental period than I was expecting.

For a while, I was a bit confused. I didn’t want to spend time in Genesis 1–3 or Exodus. Let’s just talk about Jesus and the Gospels.

However, as time went on, I began to realise how important it was to understand that the New Testament is really just the culmination, fulfilment, and climax of everything the Old Testament was working towards. Essentially, the New Testament makes the most sense only in light of the Old Testament, in the same way that Avengers: Endgame only makes sense in light of all the prequels.

Thus, my love for the Bible truly started to evolve. I was now beginning to see that the Bible wasn’t just a collection of random independent books with neat little stories that we can enjoy or live by. Instead, it is, as the Bible Project often puts it, a unified story that leads to Jesus (Tim Mackie).

Eventually, it was Tim Mackie and the Bible Project that went even further in showing me the importance of the Old Testament story, particularly the role Genesis 1–11 plays. In fact, I’ve developed such a love for Genesis 1–11 that if I ever were to go into scholarship, it would have to be related to this section of Scripture. Until then, I must sate my curiosity with blogging about it.

Why Genesis 1–11 Matters

Genesis 1–11 is one of the most vital sections in all of Scripture. It contains the theological mythos of the world, the introduction of God, and the purpose of humanity. Every other story in the Hebrew Bible and the Christian New Testament can find its source in these eleven chapters.

In recent years, scholars have increasingly noted that Genesis 1–11 establishes creation as sacred space rather than merely material origin. Creation is presented as ordered, meaningful, and oriented toward God’s presence. This has led many to describe Genesis 1 as functioning like a cosmic temple narrative, with humanity placed within creation as God’s image-bearing representatives (John H. Walton; G. K. Beale).

Before jumping in, however, we must consider two things first: context and genre.

How to Read the Bible: Context, Audience, and Genre

When you study any section of the Bible, three questions must come to mind:

1. Who is the author, and who is the intended audience?

2. What is the context of this verse or passage, both canonical and historical?

3. What is the literary genre (historical, narrative, poetry, apocalyptic, wisdom, epistle)?

These questions help us move closer to the author’s intent and how the original audience would have received the text. Answering them doesn’t necessarily guarantee an accurate interpretation of Scripture, but it does get us a long way towards that goal.

Let’s take a simple example: the book of Romans.

We know the author (the Apostle Paul), the audience (Christians, likely both Gentiles and Jews in Rome), the date of the letter (AD 55–57), and the genre (epistle). While the theological purpose of Romans is still debated, these facts give us a fair understanding of what Paul was writing about, why he wrote, and how we should approach contested passages.

Because Romans is an epistle, we expect less symbolism and poetry and more precise theological argumentation. We can do the same work with the book of Genesis, although the results are more ambiguous (Tremper Longman III).

Who Wrote Genesis? Authorship and Tradition

Genesis is one part of a larger collection of books or scrolls known as the Torah or Pentateuch: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy.

Authorship is tricky. Unlike Paul’s letters, Genesis does not identify its author. Furthermore, many books in the Old Testament did not have a single author in the modern sense. Literacy and record keeping in the ancient world were limited, often restricted to royal or priestly circles.

Tradition attributes Genesis to Moses, and not without reason. The Torah is frequently attributed to Moses throughout the Hebrew Bible (Josh 1:7–8; 2 Chron 25:4; Neh 13:1). The New Testament, and Jesus Himself, appear to attribute the Torah and Genesis to Moses as well (Matt 19:7; 22:24; Mk 12:26; John 1:17; 5:46).

Whether Moses literally penned every word is debatable, but what we can reasonably say is that Moses had a significant hand in the origins and shaping of the material (John Sailhamer). This naturally leads us into the question of context.

The Ancient Near Eastern Context of Genesis

If Genesis originates with Moses, then his cognitive environment would have influenced how the text was shaped. The Exodus story and Israel’s journey into the Promised Land draw deeply on the Genesis 1–3 narrative of God giving land (Eden) to humanity, testing obedience, and dealing with exile.

However, this is not the only context to consider.

The final form of Genesis, and the Torah as a whole, was likely shaped and compiled during or after the Babylonian Exile. This complicates matters, as there is a significant difference between the world of Genesis, the Exodus, and the exilic or post-exilic period.

Israel reading Genesis while living in exile would naturally interpret the text through that experience. Genesis 3, for example, tells a story of humanity being placed in land and then exiled from it due to sin. An exiled Israel would have immediately recognised their own story in that narrative (N. T. Wright).

Additionally, the Ancient Near Eastern world was the cultural backdrop of the Old Testament. Beliefs about gods, temples, family, relationships, and the cosmos all shaped how ancient authors thought and wrote. This cognitive environment inevitably influenced the biblical text (John H. Walton; Michael Heiser).

Abraham himself was called out of a pagan ANE world to form a distinct people for God’s purposes. Not everything Abraham did reflects ideal righteousness. He, like Israel after him, wrestled with shedding cultural norms in order to live faithfully before God.

What this suggests is that God deliberately used each author’s cognitive environment as a means of shaping His revelation. God speaks into real history, through real cultures, without collapsing into them.

What Genre Is Genesis 1–11? Myth, History, and Theology

Genesis as we have it today likely passed through Moses, was preserved through oral tradition, and was finally shaped in or after the Exile. Chapters 12–50 can be understood as Israel’s origins, while chapters 1–11 function as the origins of the whole world.

Broadly speaking, Genesis is historical. However, ancient history and modern history are not the same thing. The ancient world preserved history differently, with a far greater emphasis on meaning than on exhaustive detail.

I would categorise Genesis 1–11 as theological history told through mythic and literary forms.

By this, I do not mean that Genesis 1–11 did not happen. Rather, the primary purpose of these chapters is to convey divine truth. In this context, mythic does not mean fictional. It refers to the use of story, symbolism, and archetypal language to communicate reality at a deep theological level (Tremper Longman III).

The events occurred, but they are presented in a way that draws out theological meaning rather than providing a modern historical account. As Longman succinctly puts it, “The book of Genesis is not a history-like story but rather a story-like history.”

Summary

To summarise Part I:

Authorship: Genesis likely originates with Moses, but its final form was shaped during or after the Babylonian Exile.

Context: The Ancient Near Eastern world, the time of Moses, and the experience of exile all shape how the text should be understood.

Genre: Genesis 1–11 is best read as theological history communicated through rich, mythic, and literary narrative forms. It tells the story of the world’s beginnings in order to reveal divine purpose, not modern scientific detail.

In the next part of this series, we will begin by looking closely at Genesis 1.

The Day the Revolution Began: A Developing Book Review

scribblingtheology1 Comment

So I’m reading “The Day The Revolution Began” by N. T. Wright. I’m up to chapter 5 and I thought I’d share my thoughts on the book and Wright so far. My hope is that this review will serve as a platform for discussion and edification. I’m interested to hear any of your thoughts.

1. N. T. Wright is one of my favourite modern day theologians for a multiplicity of reasons including his work on Second Temple Judaism, justification and works, and his refreshing take on Christus Victor. Revolution, in particular, has given some great insight so far into the background of the Cross and into biblical themes such as priesthood and how that is fulfilled in Christ as well as clarifying some things around Christus Victor and the context that the Reformers were writing in.

2. I have read either in parts or all of many of his books and have always found myself challenged and often motivated to live out the Christian life in its fullness, in some ways Revolution is no exception to this. I have certainly been spurred to take seriously idolatry which is always for me personally, refreshing.

3. Despite the praises I give to Wright, I have some issues with Revolution. I have told one friend of mine that reading the book is sort of like an abusive relationship, there are things I hate about the book but I’m always drawn back to it. In particular, I have an issue with the way Wright caricatures Penal Substitutionary Atonement (PSA). I have always come to appreciate the scholarship and academic tone of Wright’s works, however, so far whenever he talks about PSA he speaks about it with venom and likens PSA to that of pagan worship. If I didn’t know any better (but I do) I would say that Wright and anyone who believes this about PSA completely misunderstands PSA’s depths and beauty.

(However, I understand that Wright is broad brushing from experience and usually wouldn’t pit this against theologians such as Thomas R. Schreiner. In fact, Wright both affirms PSA and doesn’t lump him into his broad brushing of PSA in a recent debate with Schreiner centred around Revolution.

4. Unfortunately, I can understand how some could be led to reject altogether the idea of PSA in favour of Christus Victor or any other model of the atonement. However, don’t fall into the trap of pitting one against the other. Properly taught, the atonement incorporates so many things including both PSA, CV and I suspect other theories as well. But to reject PSA in favour of other models is grossly unbiblical and can have vastly unhealthy implications that I’m not sure I could predict (this can be true of holding exclusively to PSA as well).

5. Would I recommend the book? In short, yes. It is worth a read. But I recommend it lightly seasoned with a warning. Wright is not a heretic, nor is he dangerous, but Revolution (at least so far) can have you asking more questions than rolling around in answers. Wright is unforgiving in his treatment of PSA but don’t let that lead you to reject it in favour of exclusively any other model.

Conclusion: The atonement is vast, deep and stunning. A proper approach to it would lead any soul to be reconciled to God and any Christian into a deeper relationship with Him. I pray that a book such as this would lend towards that goal for any who pick it up as I firmly believe that was Wright’s intent in writing it.