Chapter 1: the Biblical Narrative: Four Key Concepts

The Bible is a difficult book. It deals with an ancient world that is largely foreign to our modern way of life. The Old Testament focuses on an ancient Semitic people called the Jews. It tells how God called Abraham out of Ur of the Chaldeans, how he promised that Abraham would become the father of a great nation who would inherit the land of Canaan as their possession. It tells how God gave Israel a large body of commandments called the Law or Torah to govern their life in the land of Canaan. It tells how God raised up prophets to warn Israel of impending judgment, and how in spite of the many warnings, God’s people persisted in their rebellious ways and were finally exiled in the land of Babylon. All of this is very foreign to us. It is foreign because of the historical and cultural distance between us and the ancient people of Israel. But it is also foreign because it is hard to understand how all of this relates to us as New Testament believers in Jesus Christ.

Now you might think that the New Testament would be easier to comprehend. After all, the New Testament tells us who Jesus is and what he came to do, and how we can be saved by believing in Him. But the New Testament also contains its stumbling blocks. The gospels are the most challenging part of the New Testament. As God’s Messiah sent to the people of Israel, Jesus is always doing and saying rather odd things. He says that he was sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. He enters the temple, the greatest symbol of Israel’s national existence, casts out the moneychangers, and declares that he will rebuild the temple in three days. In the end, he dies on the cross with the inscription above his head, “The King of the Jews.” The whole story is replete with references to Israel, and is cast in an Israelite context. The result is that the gospels are often as difficult to understand as the Old Testament. All of this makes the Bible an odd and mysterious book. Its immediate relevance to the Christian life is difficult to discern. Why all this talk about Israel and the land?

Another reason the Bible is a stumbling block for us, is because it isn’t the book that we would have written if we were God. If we were God, and we wanted to give a clear revelation of what mankind is to believe concerning God, we would have written a treatise of systematic theology. A systematic theology book has everything organized into neat topics: first the doctrine of God, then the doctrine of man, the doctrine of the person and work of Christ, the doctrine of the application of the work of redemption (or soteriology), the doctrine of the church, and finally the doctrine of the last things. That’s the way we would have written the Bible if it were up to us.

With this assumption in our minds, we look at the Bible and we grumble, “God, you got all the topics jumbled up.” Since we think we are wiser than God, we go through the Bible hunting for proof texts which we then string together—a verse here and verse there—in order to compile a handbook of systematic theology where everything is neat and tidy and organized again.

But what if we take the Bible as God gave it and seek to discern why he put it together the way he did? What if we assume that God is wiser than we are, and that he knew what he was doing when he gave us this Bible? If we do that, I believe we will come to realize fairly quickly that the Bible is not a treatise on systematic theology, but a history book. It isn’t arranged logically according to various topics like God, man, salvation, etc. Instead, it’s arranged chronologically in order to tell a story. To be sure, there are plenty of twists and turns and details that sometimes cause us to lose the forest for the trees. But if we stand back and look at the story as a whole, and if our eyes have been opened by God’s grace, we will read the story as God gave it, rather than rearranging it to fit our preconceived ideas of how it should have been done.

Now I need to make a couple of clarifications here. First, I’m not saying that systematic theology is invalid. Certainly, it’s legitimate to gather the teaching of Scripture on any given topic and present it in a logical way. What I’m opposing is a view of Scripture that views it as nothing more than the raw materials for systematic theology. The importance of systematic theology is exaggerated if we think that it is the only way of bringing order and understanding to the text. I would argue that the first and primary method of bringing order and understanding is a discipline called biblical theology (see the next section for a definition). In fact, biblical theology is not really a matter of rearranging the biblical materials to give them an orderly and systematic arrangement that they did not have before, but of perceiving the narrative order and logic that the biblical materials already possess. Once we’ve immersed ourselves in the biblical story, so that we understand how the story works and how the plot of redemptive history unfolds, then we will be in a much better position to do systematic theology correctly, in a manner that is truly faithful to Scripture.

Second, when I say that the Bible is a story, I don’t mean that the story is make-believe or myth. The story the Bible tells is a story that really happened in space-time history (to use Francis Schaeffer’s phrase). The reason I use the term “story” is because the story of the Bible is a coherent, unified narrative.

Let’s assume, then, that we’ve accepted the idea that God gave us this story, and that he wants us to read it and enjoy it as he gave it. Let’s assume that we’ve repented of thinking we’re wiser than God, and that we no longer believe that we have to unscramble the egg and put everything back into its logical order before we can truly understand it.

I want to introduce four key concepts that inform Kline’s approach to making sense of the story of the Bible: biblical theology, eschatology, covenant, and typology. These are four tools that Kline utilizes in order to help us understand the organic unfolding of the biblical narrative as it points toward Christ and finds its telos in him.

1. Biblical Theology

The first key concept is biblical theology, specifically, biblical theology in the tradition of Geerhardus Vos, the father of Reformed biblical theology. The discipline of biblical theology existed before Vos, but it was Vos who established it on a Reformed footing. Vos argued that the difference between systematic theology and biblical theology isn’t that the latter is more “biblical” than the former, in the sense of being more faithful to the teaching of Scripture. Rather, the thing that distinguishes them is their method. Systematic theology explores the teaching of Scripture in an effort to understand the doctrines of the Bible as a timeless system of logically inter-connected truths—teaching about God and man, about Christ, about redemption accomplished and applied, etc. Biblical theology, on the other hand, looks at the way in which God has revealed himself progressively in history. If the method of systematic theology is logical, the method of biblical theology is historical. Vos used the following analogy: systematic theology is like a circle, and biblical theology is like a line. A circle symbolizes logical relationships. Systematic theology focuses on the logical relations of theology as spokes radiating from the hub of God himself. A line, on the other hand, symbolizes the historical dimension. Biblical theology focuses on the linear progression of God’s self-revelation in history.

Another key aspect of biblical theology in the tradition of Vos is the emphasis on both the progressive and the organic nature of God’s self-revelation in history. Let’s reflect on these two aspects—progressive and organic—in order. God’s revelation in history is progressive because God did not reveal everything all at once, but he progressively revealed himself and his plan of salvation “at many times and in many ways” culminating in his revelation of himself in his Son “in these last days” (Heb 1:1-2). What we know now in light of the revelation of God in his Son is so much greater than what the greatest Old Testament believer knew. What the prophets knew is greater than what David knew. What David knew is greater than what Moses knew. What Moses knew is greater than what Abraham knew. What Abraham knew is greater than what Noah knew. What Noah knew is greater than what Adam knew.

Yet there is not only progression and development, there is also organic continuity all along the line. The promises of the gospel in their smallest seed form (Gen 3:15) and the final revelation of the gospel in these last days in the incarnation, death, and resurrection and ascension of Christ are fundamentally the same. There is one organic plan of salvation as it unfolds from Genesis 3:15 to the consummation. The faith of Adam and Eve in the promised “Seed” who would crush the serpent’s head is fundamentally the same as the faith of Noah and Abraham and David and the prophets and us as new covenant believers.

Kline follows Vos in holding together both the progressive and the organic aspects of the unfolding of the mystery of God’s eternal purpose in Christ. The progressive aspects help us to see that there are differences between the old and the new covenant. The new covenant isn’t simply an updated version of the old covenant. To be sure, the fundamental revelation of God’s character, his unchanging moral standards, and his desire for his people to be holy even as he is holy, do not change from the old to the new covenant. Yet there are also significant differences. Some Mosaic laws are set aside, some are continued but deepened. We no longer offer bulls, goats, and lambs on a physical altar to atone for sin, because Christ is the fulfillment of the sacrificial system. Some have accused Kline of too strongly emphasizing the discontinuities, mainly because of his view that the Mosaic covenant contains a republication of the works principle originally given to Adam in the garden. This causes him to be more aware of the ways in which the Mosaic economy contains elements that are unique to the Israelite theocracy and not necessarily part of the eternal moral law. These are discontinuities in covenantal administration.

But Kline not only emphasizes the progressive nature of divine revelation, with its administrative discontinuities. He also emphasizes the organic nature of divine revelation, which helps us to see that there is only one covenant of grace from Genesis 3:15 on and that there is therefore one people of God in the plan of redemption, a people that experience fundamentally the same salvation by faith alone in the Messiah alone.

There is perhaps no book of the Bible that brings these two dimensions together more clearly than the Letter to the Hebrews. On the one hand, the author of Hebrews makes clear that the old covenant, which was ineffectual, has been brought to an end and is now replaced by “a better covenant.” But on the other hand, the same author is emphatic that there is only one people of God and that we are all together heirs of the same eschatological promises. The hope of Abraham was in a city whose builder and maker is God (Heb 11:13-16).

Biblical theology was fundamental for Kline and informed all that he wrote. He stood on the shoulders of Geerhardus Vos and sought to examine the historical unfolding of God’s revelation in all its variety and unity, with all its continuities (things that stay the same) and discontinuities (things that change).

2. Eschatology

The second key concept in Kline’s thought is eschatology. Eschatology is often narrowly understood as the discussion of the identity of the Antichrist or calculating the meaning of 666. Eschatology is based on the Greek word eschatos (“last”), and means “the study of the last things.” It is the notion that the God who created all things will also bring all things to their appointed consummation at the end of history, in the eschaton. “The consummation of the age,” “the end of all things,” “the end of the ages” are phrases used frequently in the New Testament (Matt 13:39; 28:20; 1 Cor 10:11; Heb 9:26; 1 Pet 4:7). This concept has special significance for Kline, and he speaks often of God as the alpha-originator and the omega-consummator. Some of his former students and colleagues wrote a Festschrift in his honor titled Creator, Redeemer, Consummator.¹ In other words, God created all things with the consummation in view from the beginning. The fall seemingly derailed God’s project, but God does not let Satan get the upper hand and so by means of redemption, God is dealing with sin and its effects and putting the program back on track so that the goal of creation is achieved after all. This implies that there was an incipient eschatology from the very beginning. For Kline, Vos’s dictum is true: eschatology is prior to soteriology.² In other words, soteriology (salvation) is the remedy for the Fall and through salvation God brings about the eschatological hope that Adam forfeited by failing the probation of the covenant of works. The eschatological consummation of all things was a prospect that God offered Adam before the Fall and had he passed the probation, he would have worked to subdue the earth and fill it, leading ultimately to the eschatological consummation. Because of the Fall and the entrance of sin into the world, the eschatological hope of creation, seemingly forfeited, is now achieved through Christ the Second Adam.

But what has captured Kline’s thought is the cosmic scope of that eschatological hope. Kline is convinced that the hope that was offered to Adam, and that is now going to be brought to fruition through the work of the Second Adam, is not simply the beatific vision of non-embodied souls floating on clouds. Rather, he sees the eschaton as the new creation in which all evil is destroyed and creation is glorified to become a cosmic temple where God dwells with his people forever. Kline speaks of the new creation as being a “heavenized” earth (GHHM, 20, 28). The current distinction between heaven (the currently invisible part of creation where God dwells in the midst of his angelic court) and earth (the visible creation we are currently familiar with) will be done away and heaven and earth will be one. A key component of this will be the visible glory of God. “All the earth shall be filled with the glory of the Lord” (Num 14:21; cp. Ps 72:19; Isa 6:3; Hab 2:14). Just as our bodies will be glorified, so the physical creation will itself be glorified to be the cosmic environment of the redeemed in eternal union and communion with God. This cosmic and creational vision of the eschatological hope is crucial to Kline’s biblical theological paradigm. For example, Kline sees the promised land and the temple as the cultic focal point of the land, as a small-scale prototype of the heavenized earth held out to Adam before the Fall and yet to be revealed at the last day when Christ returns. The land was the type, and heaven is the antitype.

Eschatology is the engine that drives the train. Eschatology was present from the very first verse of the Bible, for in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth in order that ultimately heaven and earth might be one. Adam forfeited that eschatological hope, but God has not abandoned his purpose in creation and so in spite of man’s sin God will make a way, through the work of redemption, to achieve the eschatological goal he had from the beginning.

3. Covenant

The third key concept is covenant. Kline defines a covenant as an oath-bound commitment. Biblical covenants involve promises of blessing, but it is the presence of an oath that turns a bare promise into a covenant. Kline argues that there are two main types of covenants in Scripture: covenants based on the works principle and covenants based on the grace principle. Covenants based on the works principle are covenants in which the blessings are conditional upon obedience. Covenants based on the grace principle are covenants in which the blessings are guaranteed by God’s grace and the blessings are received by faith alone. The covenant that God made with Adam in the garden, and the covenant that God made with Israel at Sinai, are the two main examples of historical covenants of the works variety. The covenant God made with Abraham, and the new covenant, are the prime examples of covenants of the grace variety. Since the oath is the key element in a covenant, you can tell which sort of covenant any given covenant is by carefully examining who takes the oath. If the oath is taken by the human partner in the covenant, that is a sure sign that it is a covenant of the works variety. For example, Israel at Sinai took the oath, “All that the Lord has commanded, we will do” (Exod 19:8; 24:3, 7), and “Cursed be everyone who does not continue in all the things written in the book of the law to do them” (Deut 27:26 as quoted in Gal 3:10). But if the oath is taken by God alone, then it is a covenant of grace and guaranteed blessing. The greatest example of this is the Abrahamic covenant where God alone swears the oath by passing between the carcasses of the slain animals used to ratify the covenant (Gen 15; cp. Jer 34:17-18).

The importance of the covenant concept for Kline lies in the fact that the covenants are the instruments by which God progressively advances and achieves his eschatological goal for creation and humanity, both in creation and in redemption. The history of God’s dealings with his people is progressively punctuated by a series of covenants, each of which has a particular role to play in advancing the eschatological goal of bringing in the kingdom of glory, the heavenized earth. In a nutshell, that series includes:

The covenant of works with Adam in the garden
The post-fall establishment of the covenant of grace in Gen 3:15
The Noahic covenant of common grace that holds judgment in abeyance and sets up the playing field for the unfolding of God’s redemptive purposes
The Abrahamic covenant of grace promising a seed and a land
The Sinai covenant which recapitulates the Adamic covenant of works at the typological level of Israel’s theocratic kingdom in the land
The Davidic covenant which promises a coming king who will obey the law
And finally the new covenant which is the fulfillment of the Abrahamic, Mosaic, and Davidic covenants and the inaugurated form of the kingdom of glory.

This book is not a detailed study of Kline’s covenant theology. There are too many technical issues that would require a separate treatment of its own to properly cover that topic. This book is focused on Kline’s vision of the unfolding narrative of the kingdom of glory from creation to consummation. Nonetheless, we will of necessity deal with these various covenants all along the way due to the pivotal role they play in furthering God’s plan at each stage as it unfolds.

There is one vital point that must be recognized, however, and that is the priority of the works principle or law. Just as the original offer of eschatological glory would have been brought about as a result of Adam passing the probation of the covenant of works, so that glory is finally achieved in its redemptive mode by the Second Adam’s obedience. There is therefore a priority to law in Kline’s thought. The good news of the gospel is not that God gives us heaven in spite of his justice but that he gives us heaven precisely through the satisfaction of his justice. One of my favorite Kline quotes is, “Heaven must be earned” (KP, 107). The point is that the eschatological consummation—the new creation, the heavenized earth, the eternal inheritance—was forfeited by the disobedience of the First Adam but has been won for us by the righteousness of the Second Adam. We receive it as a gift, by faith, but it was merited by Christ.

Covenants are the legal instruments through which God does that, establishing a series of covenants by which the eschatological goal is achieved. When man takes the oath, he inevitably fails, but that only prepares the way for Christ to be obedient and thereby to win the eschatological blessing offered. Christ comes in the fullness of time in order to fulfill the promises that God made when he himself took the oath, taking the curse on himself (Gal 3:13), in order to guarantee the fulfillment of the eschatological blessings—the kingdom of the glory of God. It was works for Christ so that it might be grace for us.

4. Typology

The fourth key concept for Kline is typology. The Greek word typos brings to mind the image of a coin maker who has the master die that he strikes on the heat-softened metal thus producing an image. There are two aspects to typology: the type and the antitype. The antitype is the master die. The type is the image created by the master die. In the mind of God the antitype is first, even though in the actual historical outworking of the antitype comes last. The type comes before the antitype to prepare the way for the antitype and point to it prophetically. The New Testament uses this language several times: typos (Rom 5:14; 1 Cor 10:6; Heb 8:5), typikōs (1 Cor 10:11), antitypos (Heb 9:24; 1 Pet 3:21). And even when the terminology of typology isn’t present, the New Testament writers assume the typological nature of the Old Testament persons and institutions on numerous occasions. The author of Hebrews argues that the enigmatic figure of Melchizedek was a type of Christ (Heb 7:1-22). Matthew suggests that when the infant Jesus went down to Egypt and then returned to the land, this was in keeping with the exodus typology (Matt 2:15). And Paul thinks the conflict between Hagar and Sarah pointed typologically to the two main covenants, the old and the new (Gal 4:21-31).

Typology has gotten a bad reputation because of its abuse, both among the church fathers and by modern preachers. Augustine thought the two coins that the good Samaritan paid the inn-keeper referred allegorically to the two sacraments. Modern preachers frequently allegorize the five stones in David’s sling to offer a list of five things we need to slay the giants in our lives, e.g., faith, prayer, obedience, fasting, and Bible-reading. The problem is that there are no objective controls. The allegory is whatever the interpreter or preacher wants it to be. But these are abuses of typology and should really be classified as allegory, which is distinct from typology properly understood. Kline avoids these abuses of the method by establishing a much broader notion of typology. Rather than a method for “finding Jesus in the text,” as if typology were a Christocentric hunt for individual, isolated “Easter-eggs,” Kline sees the divine establishment of the Israelite theocracy as a “typal kingdom” (KP, 351-54) that, in its systematic unity, points ahead to the consummated kingdom of glory, the new creation. I realize that is a big claim crying out for explanation and substantiation. But be patient. We will thoroughly develop this thought in due course. The concept of the “typal kingdom” is, in fact, the central thesis of Kline’s biblical theology.

Typology is a key concept for Kline because he sees the Old Testament as typological of the New. Typology is essentially another way of speaking of the Old Testament as the promise and the New Testament as the fulfillment in Christ.

These four concepts—biblical theology, eschatology, covenant, and typology—are crucial tools in Kline’s tool box. They equip us to bring out the unified narrative of Scripture from creation to consummation. By means of these four concepts we are enabled to see the unity of the biblical narrative from its beginning, through its middle, and culminating in its glorious end.

Kline References

Kingdom Prologue, 1-7 (definition of covenant).

God, Heaven and Har Magedon, 18-28 (heavenized earth).

“Covenant Theology Under Attack.” New Horizons in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church 15 (Feb 1994): 3-5.

Discussion Questions

What are some qualities of the Bible that are obstacles for you in reading and understanding it?
Can you think of some examples of bad proof-texting that misuses the Bible by failing to read it apart from its over-arching narrative?
In what ways does the traditional definition of eschatology (the study of the last things) need to be expanded?
Reflect on these biblical covenants and determine whether they are of the works or grace variety based on who takes the oath: the Noahic covenant of common grace after the flood, the Abrahamic covenant, the Sinai covenant, the Davidic covenant, the new covenant.
Kline said, “Heaven must be earned.” Is that really true? Isn’t heaven a gift of grace? What is Kline getting at with this statement? How would you support it biblically?
What is the difference between typology as an Easter-egg hunt versus typology as a system? Give examples.

Endnotes

Howard Griffith and John R. Muether, eds., Creator, Redeemer, Consummator: A Festschrift for Meredith G. Kline (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2007). ↩
Geerhardus Vos, The Pauline Eschatology (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1991), 325; idem, Biblical Theology: Old and New Testaments (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1985), 140. ↩