Restoring the Full Scope of the Biblical Gospel

The nature and scope of the Christian gospel is a hotly contested topic, both in our day, and in ages past. For those with a biblical approach to the subject, the gospel is typically understood as the means by which an individual person is reconciled to God — justification by grace alone, through faith in the finished work of Jesus on the cross. Simply put, 2,000 years ago God came to Earth as the man Jesus, he died on a Roman cross to take the just penalty for our sin (evil thoughts and deeds), and he raised himself to life to show his victory over death. Everyone who simply trusts in Jesus can thereby have our sins forgiven, so that we are reconciled with God unto eternal life with him.

This is, of course, true as far as it goes. But when scripture is examined carefully, we see that the term “gospel” is actually much broader in its usage than the doctrines of personal salvation. It reflects the total impact of Jesus’ heavenly kingdom on the earth and its kingdoms, including the impact Heaven makes on society and human government. In this article, we’ll briefly look at the case for a broader definition of the gospel, as well as the “two-sense” framework that pietistic evangelicals and others use to maintain a reductionist view of the term.

Evangelicals and the Social Gospel

Half the battle on this subject is understanding why in the world it’s controversial in the first place, among biblically-minded Christians. The evidence is simple enough to present, and the reasoning isn’t difficult to understand. Yet when normal, everyday Christians read the Bible, see commandments pertaining to social issues, then start engaging in gospel-centered politics, there is often a knee-jerk reaction against such social action that comes back at them from evangelical leaders with a high view of scripture. Some reasons for this including the following:

  • Many theologically compromised evangelicals are deeply political and partisan in our day, so the whole field of politics is associated with a bad thing that corrupts evangelicalism. We accept the trend, rather than correct it.
  • The social gospel movement of last century genuinely perverted the biblical gospel in its attempt to address social issues, so it is wrongly perceived that any application of the gospel to social issues is likewise perverted.
  • Americans generally have an allergy to any interaction between Church and State on political issues, so American Christians imbibe this extrabiblical concern into our theology.
  • The pietist movement of the seventeenth century successfully preached a reductionist view of the gospel which focused exclusively on the personal salvation of the individual, and this became the lens through which evangelicalism falsely came to view orthodoxy.

Thus we find ourselves in a situation today where various groups are genuinely threatening the purity of the gospel, and evangelicals react by insisting that only the orthodox view of the gospel may be preached. But by this they mean the pietistic view of personal salvation alone. This works well enough when dealing with people who preach an obviously false gospel, because for all of its flaws, pietism is still better than a lot of the other junk floating out there. But those who challenge evangelical reductionism itself fall under the same critique, because pietism is assumed to be true without biblical review. Evangelicals unwittingly define orthodoxy as pietism, then constrain Christian ministry to prioritize personal salvation as the exclusive mission of the Church. Biblical social action is then rejected as if it were the social gospel, despite deep and foundational differences in the actual content of what is preached.

The Easy Answer: Pretend That Social Action Isn’t a Gospel Issue

There is a very easy solution to all of this that demands very little of evangelicals in terms of repentance of a reductionist gospel. Abolitionists and other biblical activists don’t actually need to redefine the gospel to compel Christian involvement in the political sphere. The Bible does that through a battery of commandments that are rooted in the Christian ethic of love toward God and neighbor, which is the fruit of the Spirit’s regenerating work.

So if, as the pietists have it, the gospel is constrained to only include those doctrines which are necessary for personal salvation, Christians are still called to conform our lives to the example and commandments of Christ. Whether those commands exist as part of the gospel message itself, or as broader biblical teaching that describes what Christians should be and do post-salvation, biblical activists can still make a compelling case that social engagement is not only legitimate, but even the duty of Christians living in a nation with unrepentant national sin, no problem.

If all we care about is compelling Christians to social action, then abolitionists don’t have to redefine the gospel to accomplish that. But social action isn’t all we care about. We are Christians first and foremost, and we are only abolitionists because we believe that Christianity responds to national sin in particular ways. Because we are Christians, that means that we need to care about things like the perversion of the gospel, whether such perversion exists in modern inventions like critical theory, or in our own historic traditions like pietism. The reduction of the Christian gospel to care only about personal salvation is biblically wrong, and it’s part of the reason why western civilization is falling to pieces around us; we abandoned a formerly Christianized society to the Secularists.

Most importantly, pietism threatens the consistency and sufficiency of the gospel itself when we try to answer the question of how God would have us deal with national sin. It is well-established in scripture that individuals are not the only ones who sin. Collective groups like clans and nations can also bear a collective guilt of sin that brings the entire group under the judgement of God, regardless of the guilt or innocence of particular individuals within the group (Jon 4:11, Lev 20:1-5, Deu 21:1-9). How should that sin be resolved on a pietistic gospel that saves individuals alone? You would have to say that something other than the gospel saves nations from their sin, which should make anyone who loves Christ and his word vomit in his mouth. There is one gospel, no other name under heaven by which man must be saved. Jesus’ blood was sufficient to answer the entire problem of sin, and the gospel that we preach needs to account for the full scope of Adam’s fall.

So even though pietism isn’t a direct threat to Christian social action, and we can certainly appeal to the easy answer when we don’t have time to pursue full reform of pietism in our various conversations, we still need to care about the problem of pietism, and pursue reform when God gives us the opportunity. We need to care enough about the purity of the gospel to insist on biblical consistency from our evangelical brethren, and press them on the various ways in which their commitment to personal salvation alone conflict with a biblical rendering of the gospel. When we do the hard work of pushing for legitimate, biblical reform in this area, it will make the Church’s entire approach to the problem of sin more consistent, robust, and effective, whether it expresses itself in everyday people on the streets, or in the halls of power.

The Hard Answer: Advance the Gospel of the Kingdom

The rally cry for theonomists and other non-pietistic evangelicals is the “gospel of the kingdom,” a phrase that appears in the gospel of Matthew, and which has parallel phrasing in Mark. It emphasizes that gospel proclamation for the early Church encapsulated the whole impact of the kingdom of heaven on earth through the incarnation of Christ. This includes not only the kingdom’s impact on personal judgement and salvation, but its impact on the kingdoms of earth (e.g. the destruction of Jerusalem for her rejection of King Jesus, Mat 23:37-39). And it includes other things as well; King Jesus provides a total answer to the problem of sin. Every aspect of creation that has been tainted by sin is either destroyed or redeemed by the gospel of the kingdom of heaven.

This is the “hard” answer because despite its solid biblical foundation, it comes up against the historic conflict between pietism and the social gospel. Social gospel adherents appropriated “gospel of the kingdom” language — a legitimate biblical insight they used to attract people — and applied it to an extremely unbiblical and anti-Christian social program, going so far as to redefine entire theological categories in terms of humanism, naturalism, and other aspects of Chaos religion. So when Christians with a more biblical worldview use the same language to push back against pietism, we are often classified into the same category as the social gospel, that of liberal protestantism.

In short, there’s a baby in the social gospel, and a whole lot of bathwater that we have to work past in our discussions on this topic. The hard answer is that we need to save the baby — the biblical insight of a greater scope for the gospel that includes social action — and throw out all of the filthy bathwater that the social gospel tried to wash her with. Maybe then we can save some actual babies, instead of just singing songs and averting our eyes in the midst of the greatest genocide ever committed by man.

Among other places in scripture, the gospel of the kingdom is expressed well in Matthew, through its early account of John’s and Jesus’ gospel proclamation to Israel.

  1. John the Baptist begins his prophetic witness, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” (Mat 3:2)
  2. After John is put in prison, Jesus takes up the same message. (Mat 4:17)
  3. This call of repentance is summarized as the “gospel of the kingdom” (Mat 4:23)
  4. Then this gospel of the kingdom is elaborated in Jesus’ sermon on the mount (Mat 5-7)

Taken in context, the very detailed sermon on the mount is rightly viewed as an elaboration of the kind of content that Jesus was teaching throughout Galilee, the “gospel of the kingdom.” It wasn’t a sermon primarily about Jesus’ death on the cross, though the necessity of the cross is made evident by the impossible moral standard that Jesus presented for entrance into the kingdom of heaven (Mat 5:17-20). Like other presentations of law, it showed sinners why repentance was necessary, and the nature of the kingdom we would enter into and obey in place of our former slavery to sin.

So for Matthew, the term “gospel” encapsulates the total impact of the kingdom of heaven as it arrives on earth. It is at hand, and we are to repent while we are able, that we may enter into it. But we are doing more in our repentance than obtaining fire insurance, salvation from Hell. We are transferring from a self-centered, sinful way of life into a kingdom that values and produces genuine character and compassion modeled after the nature of its king Jesus.

The gospel of Mark is even more explicit on the scope of the gospel, in that he describes his entire account of Jesus’ arrival on earth as “the gospel” (Mar 1:1). This includes all kinds of historical and doctrinal content, such as the baptism of Jesus, the temptation of Jesus, the particular disciples of Jesus, the healings of Jesus, the relationship between the law of Moses and the law of Christ, the unforgivable sin, the nature of salvation, detailed eschatology (end times theology), and a myriad of other things. For Mark, the whole fact of Jesus’ arrival on earth is summarized as “the gospel,” and many of the implications of that arrival are worked out in the pages of his gospel account.

Scripture offers plenty of other support for a broad, kingdom-wide understanding of the scope of the gospel, but I’ll cite just one more for the sake of time. In Revelation, we have an angel preaching a message of repentance that contains no reference to the propitiatory sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. Yet this is considered legitimate gospel proclamation in John’s estimation of the matter.

Then I saw another angel flying directly overhead, with an eternal gospel to proclaim to those who dwell on earth, to every nation and tribe and language and people. And he said with a loud voice, “Fear God and give him glory, because the hour of his judgment has come, and worship him who made heaven and earth, the sea and the springs of water.” (Rev 14:6-7)

The angel describes some aspects of the arrival of heaven to earth, namely a global judgement by God. But no mention of blood atonement is given at this crucial moment in many people’s lives. There isn’t even the word “repent,” just a command to give God the glory and honor that he is due, which would be a fruit of repentance. To be sure, Jesus’ death, burial and resurrection all must be true facts of history in order for such repentance to work, because without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sins (Heb 9:22-28). But the content of the gospel message apparently doesn’t always need to include that particular information, contrary to what is often claimed by pietistic evangelicals. Here’s just one example from 9marks concerning the test of “true” gospel proclamation:

This is crucial, the difference indeed between Gospel and not-Gospel: To proclaim the inauguration of the kingdom and the new creation and all the rest without proclaiming how people can enter it—by repenting and being forgiven of their sins through faith in Christ and his atoning death—is to preach a non-Gospel.

— 9Marks: What is the Gospel?

Some of that might be true, at least when compared to the passage above. The angel proclaims the coming kingdom and offers a means to enter it. But it doesn’t say anything about faith in Christ or his atoning death, merely an opportunity to demonstrate repentant submission to God.

The point here isn’t to diminish the importance of a person’s knowledge about how salvation is accomplished, but simply to show that mankind is saved by the object of his faith (God/Christ), not the particular knowledge he has about how that salvation is accomplished. The knowledge is important, but not salvific. This was the case in the salvation of Abraham, the example of salvation by faith that Paul used to defeat the Judaizers. The particular saving knowledge / doctrine that was communicated to Abram had nothing to do with blood atonement; it was that Abram would have a son and heir, and that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars (Gen 15:1-6, Rom 4:1-5). It was Abram’s faith in God, and the trustworthiness of his word, that accomplished Abram’s salvation, not the particular content of God’s word to which his heart responded. And this is true for many people in scripture, like Noah, or Enoch, or Joseph, etc.

Thus we see that God presents in scripture a very broad gospel of the kingdom of heaven, one which impacts the whole of the cosmos, not only the salvation of individual souls. Individuals enter into the kingdom through repentance that expresses faith in God/Christ, but different people will have different amounts of knowledge about how salvation is accomplished by the kingdom of heaven.

When physical children are born, we do not have knowledge about how conception and birth function; we simply experience the entrance into a new world. In the same way, when people are born again into the kingdom of heaven (Jhn 3:1-10), we don’t need to understand how the new birth is accomplished as a prerequisite to experiencing it, we simply need to have faith in God that produces justification. Knowledge of justification and other doctrines of personal salvation is important, just as knowledge of the doctrines of national salvation is important. But none of that information is required for a person to be saved. It is entirely possible and eminently biblical for people to be saved both personally and nationally without all of the knowledge about how that salvation is accomplished.

Pietist Push-back: Two Senses of the Term “Gospel”

Pietist push-back against a broad gospel really warrants a whole series of articles, rather than a mere section of an article. But to summarize, the typical answer is to segregate the gospel so that some doctrines (the approved, pietistic doctrines of personal salvation) are considered the gospel in a “narrow sense,” and all other aspects of the gospel are relegated to a “broad sense.” The upshot is that narrow gospel doctrines become part of the body of “primary doctrines” that the Church regards as necessary for salvation or inclusion in the Church, whereas the broad gospel doctrines become classified as “secondary doctrines” where disagreement in unity is allowed.

It’s important to realize that there is no exegetical warrant for splitting the gospel into two pieces or senses in scripture. This move is done for theological reasons, to make New Testament writing fit into the primary/secondary mold that people use to classify doctrine. But there is no reason in scripture to believe that the original authors had in mind any distinction between the gospel in a broad sense and the gospel in a narrow sense.

Most arguments for a narrow sense of the gospel will cite passages that talk about the atonement or some other aspect of the pietistic gospel, and claim that therefore a narrow sense must be legitimate. Yet these are explained equally well under the simple recognition that any doctrine classified under a supposed “narrow sense” of the gospel would also be classified under the “broad sense” of the gospel, because the broad includes the narrow. The gospel of the kingdom includes the doctrines that tell us how a person enters into the kingdom, among its other concerns. Because one is part of the other, every reference to the gospel can therefore be seen as a reference to the broad sense of the gospel alone, without any need for a narrow sense to even exist.

Consider for example the following claim from 9marks:

Romans 1:16–17: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, ‘The righteous shall live by faith.’”

Paul defines the gospel in terms of “salvation” and the righteousness of God being revealed through faith. It becomes clear through the rest of the book that he’s talking here about forgiveness of sins (justification) being through faith, not works. His focus in Romans is not on the coming kingdom, but on how one becomes a part of it. And that he calls “gospel.”

— 9Marks: What is the Gospel?

Again, a focus on how one enters into the coming kingdom is also a focus on the coming kingdom, by definition. One includes the other. So one can claim this as evidence that justification is part of a narrow sense of the gospel. But all it actually provides is evidence that justification is part of “the gospel.” There is no narrow sense described here, no reason from this text that demands that we separate some doctrines within the gospel from others, and make them part of a core gospel, or narrow gospel. Rather, justification is part of the gospel, and we are superimposing the idea of a narrow gospel onto the text.

Against the narrow gospel claim, Paul does use the term “gospel” in Romans to describe things other than how one enters into the coming kingdom. Paul describes the gospel as including Jesus’ biological descent from David (1:1-4), as well as Jesus’ eschatological judgement of mankind (2:16). And he focuses on far more than the question of how one enters into personal salvation, discussion Israeology and the works flowing out of salvation, to name just a couple themes.

The data we have on Romans shows that Paul is talking about “the gospel” as a unified concept that encapsulates a spectrum of smaller doctrines, some which fit pietistic distinctives, and others that go beyond them. Paul in Romans is describing the gospel, not the narrow gospel. There is no exegetical reason to believe that such a narrow gospel even exists, only a theological reason that superimposes it onto the text of scripture, here and elsewhere. When pietists speak of a narrow gospel, the simple question to ask of the passage is, “Why can’t this just be part of the broader gospel of the kingdom?” There is one sense of “the gospel” presented in scripture, and it is our theology that needs to change to align with its broader contours.

What is the Gospel?

The gospel is the good news of Jesus’ kingdom of heaven arriving to earth. It presented itself when King Jesus came to earth to live, die, and rise again as a man, and through his work on the cross it offers a total answer to the problem of sin that plagues the universe. This includes an offer of forgiveness and restoration to individuals who place their faith in God and his appointed king Jesus. And it includes a myriad of other implications with partial redemption offered in the present day, and total redemption promised for the age to come.

This means that just as it is appropriate to speak of gospel-centered evangelism, it is equally valid to speak of gospel-centered ecology, political reform, education, or psychology, etc. While a utopian society will never be achieved as long as sin ravages the heavens and the earth, Christianity nevertheless offers a sanctifying influence that produces gradual improvement as man brings his civilization increasingly under the lordship of Christ. Because every aspect of man’s nature and dominion are impacted by the fall of Adam and Eve, every aspect of man’s nature and dominion are redeemed by the gospel of Christ and his Church, both now and in the age to come.

To reduce the gospel to only those aspects which redeem individuals from Hell is to affirm a mere subset of what is reflected in the biblical record. Such a reductionist gospel is biblically deficient and destructive to human civilization, leaving sin-centered ideologies to ravage the earth in its place as false gospels that offer false answers to the manifold problems of sin and death.

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Separation of Church and State

Does the separation of Church and State mean that civil government is unaccountable to God?

Religion and philosophy are essentially two names for the same field of thought — the study of first principles. One might argue that religion covers a broader spectrum of knowledge, but the point remains that every human discipline rests on first principles, and therefore every human discipline is inescapably religious.

Civil law in particular rests on an understanding of morality, which can differ substantially from one religion to the next. Law as a concept defines right and wrong ways of behaving, with positive and negative consequences for compliance or rebellion. But when humans issue law, this raises a question of what grants a human the right to demand obedience from other humans. Is law justified merely by the power of a ruler to enforce it? Or is law justified by authority vested in a ruler from an outside source?

The law of the fittest (rex lex) versus the law of the accountable (lex rex) reflects a long-standing conflict between two religious worldviews in western civilization. The law of the fittest views morality as a mere product of meaningless evolution, grounded in the will of the powerful man (or powerful collective man, i.e. society) who can define morality without accountability to a higher power. Because morality is a product of the powerful man rather than a ruler who presides over him, acts like rape and murder may be considered moral so long as the powerful man approves of them. Such a problem is often dealt with in the modern day by spreading the legal power of society across its members, such as in a democracy. But this merely pushes the ethical problem onto the collective rather than the individual sovereign. As long as societal consensus approves of an atrocity, such as what happened with chattel slavery, the gladiatorial games, abortion, or wife burning, the atrocious act becomes moral by definition, since morality is a mere opinion of the fittest man, which in the case of democracy is the collective man.

In contrast to rex lex, authority delegated to man from an unchanging and personal source that lives outside of the natural world (theism) provides the philosophical justification for viewing both the individual human and his civilization as accountable to higher moral categories. For lex rex, because rulers receive authority from God, and are accountable to his higher moral law, they have the right to issue laws and commands only within the boundaries of morality. When such leaders rule immorally, those underneath of their authority have a philosophical foundation other than revolutionary power to justify a limited and measured exercise of civil disobedience.

Other religions may perhaps yield other expressions of civil law beyond what the west has experienced in its conflict between naturalism and theism. But the point remains that one’s view of religion necessarily drives one’s view of politics, because every human discipline rests upon a religious foundation to establish the prerequisite first principles of knowledge.

SHADE Theory

SHADE Theory offers Christians an understanding of how the biblical worldview applies to politics.

All authority in heaven and on earth comes from God, and has been vested in his vice-regent, Jesus the Christ. Because heaven reigns over earth, and Jesus ascended to the throne of heaven after his death and resurrection, the kings of the earth owe obedience to Jesus, and will be judged by him for their submission or rebellion to his rule.

Human beings are given the prerogative to define law codes for their derivative authority structures, such as in civil law*, parental rules, company policy, or church tradition, etc. Because all authority comes from God, these law codes are accountable to the higher moral law of Christ. Laws which conform to ultimate morality are considered legitimate and binding, and laws which are immoral may be lawfully opposed.

The law of Moses is a unique form of civil law which was given by God for the people of Israel. Unlike other laws, Moses is created in the image and likeness of the law of Christ as a shadow covenant that reveals the nature of ultimate morality and the kingdom of heaven. While Gentile (non-Jewish) nations are not under the authority of Moses in the present age, Jewish law is still instructive as a source of applied principles. It provides us with an inerrant, God-given example of how the law of Christ is reflected in a particular people and their civil law code, revealing principles which may be adapted to other peoples and contexts.

* In the context of SHADE Theory and Biblical Polity, civil law is meant in the older sense of describing the total body of legislation produced by a civil government, such as a nation, province, or county, etc. Thus it includes criminal law, as opposed to some modern definitions which distinguish between the two.

Because the covenant of Moses is a shadow of the covenant of Christ, the Bible describes two parallel culminations to redemptive history. The millennium-long reign of Jesus on the earth brings Israel’s history to its climactic golden age, and it serves as a shadow of the greater hope shared by all of redeemed humanity — the eternal state without sin, sorrow, or death.

Christians who believe in a dual-climax of redemptive history are often criticized for being pessimistic in their outlook for the future before Christ’s return, and the reputation is well-earned. Because on this view Christ’s millennium is preceded by severe global judgement, it is often preached that civilization-building efforts like political improvement are ultimately pointless, and that only the salvation of individual souls is important to God. Reconstructionist ideologies are therefore left to optimistic postmillennialism, which operates under the belief that we are presently living in the millennial reign of Christ, and that civilization will improve over time until Jesus returns.

SHADE Theory recognizes a form of hopeful realism which acknowledges both the futility and the deep value of life under the sun. Learning from Solomon’s insights in ecclesiastes, and Paul’s reflections on life without resurrection, we can see that civilization truly is made futile by the judgement of death issued against Adam’s race, if we do not factor resurrection into our political theory. Yet God is still deeply interested in the way in which man’s temporary civilization is carried out, if for no other reason than that the preservation of life by civil government allows the gospel to be preached and accepted by mankind. Other reasons for godly law and civilization may of course be supplied, such as the convicting of consciences in preparation for the gospel, and the training of Christians to be faithful and skilled in government matters, for when we are made rulers with Christ over the heavens and the earth.

The nature or timing of the millennium should have little impact on the hope of the Christian, or her obedience to the dominion mandate that God gave to build and rebuild civilization on earth. We face the same philosophical problem as Noah before the flood, or Jeremiah before God’s judgement of Judah through Babylon. All of humanity has always faced the inevitability of personal and collective judgement, yet civilization-building has always been an important part of man’s purpose here on the earth. If a penultimate judgement and reconstruction of the earth is yet in our future, then like every other generation that has faced judgement in the past, we are still called to be obedient and faithful stewards of the present.

One of the recurring effects of the Christian worldview on civil government is the criminalization of grave social evils, such as abortion, infanticide, witchcraft, wife-burning, and the gladiatorial games, to name a few. Observing this, the abolitionists of slavery in Britain and America developed a theology of national sanctification to compete with secular alternatives of their day, and grounded their movement on “the truths of divine revelation as upon the Everlasting Rock.”

Abolitionism holds that the only answer to sin — whether personal or national — is the gospel of Jesus Christ, and that only the people of God are equipped to bring that gospel into conflict with sinful and oppressive people and institutions. Ideologies of social change which unite Christians with non-Christians in an effort to curtail sinful law or behavior are fundamentally compromised and self-defeating, because non-Christians are by nature devoted to a false gospel that does not submit to God or his Messiah.

Furthermore, Christians are often tricked into supporting legislative change which compromises with sin, or which delays the introduction of uncompromising legislation, through the claim that it will be a more practical stepping stone toward justice. Abolitionism holds that every law that is written must be uncompromisingly moral — without sin, partiality, or injustice of any kind — and that any attempt to delay national repentance for any pragmatic reason is also a sinful use of legislation or other power.

The drive to pragmatically set aside God’s word in the legislative process is rooted in a false gospel which relies on man alone to redeem himself without the help of God. Abolitionism holds that God is our greatest ally in the work to bring about national repentance and redemption — that he is a real person and force acting behind the course of man’s civilization, and that we cannot set aside his word or his gospel without dooming our efforts to futility.

The counterpart to abolition is reconstruction. Where abolition involves turning from sin, reconstruction involves turning to a new way of life — God’s way rather than Satan’s.

SHADE Theory espouses a methodology of dual-mandate reconstruction which sees two dominion mandates in scripture — one given to Adam and Eve to take physical dominion over the earth, and another given to Christ and the Church to take spiritual dominion over the heavens and the earth. On this view, all humans in good standing within a given earthly jurisdiction participate together in earthly civilization-building under the authority and judgement of God, on account of the image of God that we bear through Adam. This includes efforts like business, family, civil government, and science, etc. All Christians in good standing with heavenly government then participate together in building the kingdom of Heaven under the authority and judgement of God, on account of the image of God that we bear in the new man through Christ. This includes efforts such as charity, evangelism, church, and theology, etc.

These two mandates do not describe the comprehensive scope of earthly or heavenly duty; both civil and moral law are broader than commandments pursuant of earthly and heavenly civilization-building. Some Christians make the mistake of believing that the great commission (the heavenly dominion mandate) is the sum total of the Church’s responsibility, and that all legitimate church activity must come under it, to the exclusion of e.g. social change. This is an unbiblical and destructive tradition that supplants the great commandment as the first and foundational law to guide human and Christian behavior. We are commanded to love God with all of our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and love those who are created in his image and likeness — our neighbors as ourselves. On these two commandments hang all of earthly and heavenly law and civilization. The dominion mandates, while important, are merely one of the ways in which we carry out the command to love God and neighbor in earthly and heavenly government.

Because all authority comes from God, all authority is delegated authority. This means that no human being, human institution, or other creation possesses authority in its own right. Rather, one is accountable to use his authority in compliance with all higher directives and law codes, up to and including God’s higher moral law.

When a person or institution commands something in contradiction to one of its own superiors (including God), a lesser authority has both the right and the duty to disregard that command, and honor the higher authority. This is known as interposition, where the lesser authority stands between a tyrant and those underneath of him, to prevent their lawless oppression. While such a lesser authority may be accused of disregarding the rule of law, he is actually honoring the rule of law, by checking a lawless tyrant who is himself issuing commands in opposition to higher law.