We’re Still Living in Biblical Times & Always Will Be

Like many of you, I’ve often heard folks say something along these lines: “Well, in Biblical times things like that used to happen, but not anymore.” More often than not, we use the phrase “Biblical times” in our conversations to denote some particularly miraculous time or event in Biblical history such as the flood, the exodus from Egypt, the halting of celestial bodies, or Jonah’s being swallowed by a great fish. That is, we tend to preface these weighty events by first categorizing them as having taken place in “Biblical times”—almost as though we feel a distinction must be made between that time and our own.

I fear this is where we can go wrong in both our speaking and in our thinking, for the two go hand in hand. The way we think will manifest itself in the words we choose to use and, though perhaps more subtly, the reverse is also true. Since the Bible is true—not if, but since—what other time in history can there possibly be but those times which are, simply speaking, “Biblical times?” On the one hand, yes, Biblical times certainly refers to the time during which Biblical revelation unfolded; but, the entirety of Biblical prophecy has not yet come to pass—we are still living through the times and seasons anticipated by the Bible. Because the Bible is true and accounts for real history, such a distinction between then and now is not necessary: we’re still living in Biblical times.

To help illustrate my point, perhaps I begin with an observation from my own life—or, perhaps it is more of a confession. I recently read through the book of Acts in my daily Bible devotions. Each time I move from one of the Gospel accounts into Acts, I am amazed at how seamlessly the transition is made between the Lord’s earthly ministry into what we’d now call “church history.” Because we are presently in the age of the church, there is a sort of familiarity that can be felt between our time and the time of the Apostles—a familiarity that, while it may not be complete kinship, is easier to adopt than putting ourselves into the shoes of, say, Adam and Eve or another larger-than-life figure like Noah.

And yet, while I was reading Acts I would occasionally wrestle with this nagging thought that Acts felt “realer” than some of the other books I had just finished. Having spent some time studying church history over the past year, there was a degree of comfort I felt among the pages of Acts that was sorely lacking anytime I delved into the far more ancient world of the Old Testament. I know that the book of Genesis—and every other Biblical account—is just as historically true as the book of Acts, and yet I found within myself this subtle, seemingly imperceptible, distinction being made in my mind and, upon this realization, repented of it.

From a purely observational perspective, I do not think it incorrect to say that there is a distinction that occurs between the Gospel of John and the book of Acts. However, this distinction is not one of truthfulness or accuracy but rather of content and revelation. Afterall, John’s Gospel marks the end of the fourth and final Gospel account, culminating in the Lord’s resurrection, ascension, and promise to return for a second time, and swiftly at that—“Surely I am coming soon” (Revelation 22:20).

Christ’s death, resurrection, and ascension marked a pivotal turning point in world history; and in that way, it rightly marked a distinction between what came before and what followed. Just as the Old Testament looked forward to Christ’s ministry, so too does the rest of the New Testament keep looking back to it—indeed, it is the very nucleus of not just redemptive history, but history itself.

Just as there is a revelatory divide between Genesis and Exodus, or Malachi and Matthew, so too can one be observed between John and Acts. In light of Christ’s redeeming work as presented in the Gospels, the age of the church begins to take form as the book of Acts unfolds. In the book of Acts, the Lord continues His work; not as He did while on earth throughout the Gospels, but through His Holy Spirit in the building of His church, ushering in this latter part of human history. In this way, it can be said, to some degree, that Biblical times gives way to the age we are currently living in—the age of the church.

Only, I should wonder that if by thinking in this way—in terms of Biblical times giving way to church history—we betray the unity of divinely inspired Scripture and history as a whole. As though such a distinction subtly untethers us from the deep and abiding roots of the Christian faith. And by roots I do not merely mean the Apostles, early church fathers, and first Christian martyrs, but those who came long before even them: Abraham, Moses, David, and the countless others who were used by the Lord throughout Biblical history in the unfolding of His redemptive plan for mankind through Jesus Christ.

To say we are now in the age of the church is absolutely correct, but let us never disconnect this age from the one that came before; or, for that matter, from the one which is to soon come. Within the vast tapestry of Biblical history, the Lord God is weaving together many threads; each age and time, whether of the Patriarchs, Moses, or David, serving as a crucial piece in a larger whole. We are now in what the Bible calls “the last days” (namely, the generations immediately following the work of Christ in the Gospels) but we are not yet in the very last of the last days—that is yet to come, and swiftly at that, “Behold, I am coming like a thief!” (Revelation 16:15). And yet the lot of us, from Adam to Abraham to your Applebee’s server, are still living in Biblical times.

As twenty-first century Christians, we are living between the bookends of Acts and Revelation. Though divine inspiration of the Bible has ceased, there are many events foretold in Scripture that are yet to take place. And because the Biblical account of history in Revelation bleeds into the plains of eternity, there is a very real sense in which we shall always be living in Biblical times. The book of Revelation ends with the church’s joining Christ in the New Heavens and the New Earth, a glorious love story that shall run uninterrupted into eternity such that, “as organs in the Body of Christ, as stones and pillars in the temple, we are assured of our eternal self-identity and shall live to remember the galaxies as an old tale” (C.S. Lewis speaks at length about this topic in his essay, “Membership”).

To end where we began, Paul in the book of Acts shares the Gospel with the men of Athens by appealing to their place in human history—which is to say, God’s story. Standing in the Areopagus, Paul says:

“The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, nor is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything. And He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, that they should seek God, and perhaps feel their way toward Him and find Him. Yet He is actually not far from each one of us” (Acts 17:24-27).

Our place in history—who our parents will be, where we’ll be born and raised, our first school and earliest childhood friends, continuing into adulthood and the rest of our lives—has been determined by God before the ages began. There is a direct line that can be drawn from the first man, Adam, through Biblical times and into our own day: “And He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place.” To what end? That all mankind “should seek God, and perhaps feel their way toward Him and find Him.”

Do you feel lost and overwhelmed when you look at history, especially Biblical history? Do you find yourself easily bewildered as you peer down the annuls of time to ages long past and seemingly alien from our own? Take heart, brother and sister, for God intends that in our study of history—Biblical history, of which we take part—we see a familiar face: the face of our loving Lord building His church throughout the ages into our present day. History may change, but our Lord and His purposes do not.

Throughout all of redemptive history, the Lord Jesus Christ is calling sinners unto Himself. The good news of who Jesus is and that lost sinners can find salvation in His name serves as the bridge, the very connecting fabric, between then and now—just as He serves as the bridge between now and the things to come.

We’re still living in Biblical times and praise God we always will be.

“The cross, though it has at its head a collision and a contradiction, can extend its four arms for ever without altering its shape. The cross opens its arms to the four winds; it is a signpost for free travelers.”

—G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

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Photo by Hu Chen, Unsplash