“The theme of the [first five books of the Bible] is the partial fulfilment …of the promise to …the patriarchs. The promise or blessing is …an affirmation of the primal divine intentions for humanity” (Clines 2001, 30). One of the earliest expressions of this promise is found to be directed at Abraham. “I will make you into a great nation” (Gen. 12:2). Brad Kelle defines the promise to the patriarchs as not only the calling of Abraham and Sarah, but the intention to use those who are called as “the instrument of blessing for all creation” (Kelle 2017, 31).

However, we must go further back to understand how creatures created by Yahweh came to be in such desperate need of additional blessing. From the fall of Adam and Eve in the garden, to Cain’s murder of Abel, to the account of Noah and the flood, the brokenness of the human race is emphasized again and again, throughout the full course of lives and many generations. Even when ancient people groups seem to “get it right,” and great nations arise, those powerful empires continue to prove incapable of addressing the systemic problems of humanity (e.g. injustice, violence, suffering).

With Genesis 1-11 as a preface, God’s plan for a solution is finally (though only partially) revealed in a partnership/covenant with Abraham in the twelfth chapter. The shape of this partnership takes on a higher resolution when Isaac receives the promise of the multiplication of his seed (Gen. 26:24). Jacob, then, receives the promise of land for himself and his descendants (Gen. 28:13), and Joseph claims God’s continued favor for his family even on his deathbed (Gen. 50:24). An emphasis emerges on the future descendants and future relationships of those God has called (including both vertical and horizontal relationships). “The promise of being with (Gen. 26.3,24; 28.15; 31.3; cf. 31.5; 35.3; and 31.42; 48.21) is likewise a promise of relationship.” (Clines 2001, 36).

Yahweh also invokes the promise of the patriarchs elsewhere in the Pentateuch. In Exodus, he identifies Himself to Moses through the connection with the patriarchs. The communion of God and his chosen people is also mentioned in Leviticus 26:12, as even the law itself can be understood as an expression of the promise of the patriarchs. “The instructions and practices move Israel to a fuller understanding and embodiment of who YHWH is, who they are, and how they are called to live in the world, especially as an instrument of blessing” (Kelle 2017, 81). The first ten chapters of the book of Numbers include instructions from Mt. Sinai regarding the way in which covenant people are to live, which is to say, how they are to relate to Yahweh. Deuteronomy 4:6 underscores the importance of a revelation of this covenant life to other nations of the earth.

The promise of Genesis 12, therefore, remains the center around which all the rest of the Pentateuch orbits. That the promise sees only a partial fulfillment, leaves room for a radical expansion of the relationship aspect of the covenant, which already receives greater emphasis in the narrative as the Pentateuch progresses. The importance of obedience and holiness is paramount as a component of complete reconciliation with Yahweh, yet these elements prove to be consistently unobtainable characteristics by the people of Israel. Still, Yahweh does not abandon his creation.

It is easily argued that the “promise of the patriarchs” remains as central for the New Testament as it does for the Pentateuch. “…the NT writings— like the OT texts before them— have the divine, redemptive mission as a common thread that unites their different contexts and perspectives: ‘From Matthew to Revelation, they bear witness to God’s purpose to redeem and restore all things in Christ’” (Kelle 2017, 151).

Matthew 1:1 begins with the “context” of the physical person of Jesus: “This is the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah the son of David, the son of Abraham,” making the connection between Christ and Abraham the introduction to the New Testament. The first chapter of Mark identifies Jesus as “the Son of God,” and immediately connects Jesus with the prophecy given in Isaiah 40:3. The first chapter of the Gospel of John places Jesus with God at the very beginning in Genesis.

In Matthew 5:16, Jesus echoes the sentiment expressed in Deuteronomy 4:6 when he says, “…let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” This is exactly what Jesus is doing; living the life Israel was called to — but could not accomplish. The priority of bringing “others” into relationship with the Father remains consistent between Testaments.

The view of the Church as the Body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:27) parallels both Genesis 1:26 (the imago Dei) and Genesis 12:3 (the blessing of the nations through Israel). “In other words, when read in the context of the larger canonical story, the church— the wider community of Christ’s followers— is called through the invitation of Israel’s own Messiah to join in the mission that was given to Israel” (Kelle 2017, 154).

The Apostle Paul goes to great lengths to demonstrate how the initial invitation to Israel has, in Christ, been expanded to include the gentiles; that is, to include everyone (Rom 9:8), and how dying to self via the self-sacrificing motivation of Christ is the means by which the Church completes its mission (Phil. 2:5-8). The author of Revelation recalls the OT promise of “being with” (Gen. 26.3,24; 28.15; 31.3; cf. 31.5; 35.3) when he writes in the second-to-last chapter of the NT: “They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God” (Rev. 21:3).

Similar to the increasing relevance of personal relationships in the OT, Jesus likens the value of the vertical relationship to horizontal relationship in Matthew 22:37-39: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” While it’s understandable that Christians might be inclined to consider Christ as the central-most figure of all Scripture, the context of the OT is clearly essential to understanding the mission of the Son of Man as a part of Yahweh’s great plan.

Does the modern church still derive its mission from the promise of the patriarchs, or does it sometimes struggle with an overly individualistic lens? When pressed to engage challenging cultural issues, does the church draw appropriate lines between individual preferences or remedies rooted in the existence of Christian community? I believe that the modern church has developed an unhealthy aversion to paradox, increasing its tendency to address most issues from an either/or perspective and pitting individuals who disagree against one another. This is the opposite of dying to self, the opposite of patience, and the opposite of love. This mistake is unnecessarily limiting and incongruent with the meaning of scripture. As G.K. Chesterton said, “It is exactly this balance of apparent contradictions that has been the whole buoyancy of the healthy man” (Chesterton 1908, Project Gutenberg). So, when Kelle writes, “the human community (not merely individual persons) is created in and meant to serve as God’s image,” he suggests that the individual man, correct as he may be about one thing or another, does not represent the whole of the imago Dei equation (Kelle 2017, 43).

A hyper-individualistic take on Christianity may contribute to unhealthy competition between Christ-followers, a greater interest in the sins of others rather than in one’s own sin, and, ironically, a greater sense of uncertainty — as an individually-sourced faux certainty would likely be cultivated in the absence of the genuine comfort of communal, Christian certainty. Rather than valuing the strength of Christian community to reconcile individuals across commonly assumed barriers, the individualistic lens would tend to keep outsiders at a distance and under the presumed judgment of the insider(s).

I suspect this sort of bias may partly result from fear. If competition in Christian community exists to a significant degree, it would be easy to fear being on the losing end. If one’s individual moral performance were overemphasized, it would be easy to be afraid of comparison and potential unfavorable judgment. Faithfulness to relationship and community over significant time and through significant discomfort (as evidenced by the biblical narrative) continues to be part of God’s plan for the church — and is perhaps the type of dying to self most needed in this modern moment.

One of the great paradoxes of scripture includes the idea of boundaries, inclusion, and exclusion. Ezra, Nehemiah, and even Paul make use of strict boundaries and exclusions when establishing (or re-establishing) faithful communities. But this begs a question. “How can this ethnic exclusivism and harsh boundary drawing possibly fit with the larger OT story in which Israel remains called to be YHWH’s instrument of blessing to all nations?” (Kelle 2017, 123). A paragraph later, Kelle offers a possible answer. “…this is a short-term approach only. It won’t work long-term if this re-formed community is to fulfill its mission to be an instrument of YHWH’s life-giving blessing to the nations” (Kelle 2017, 123).

I believe the church must attempt to put Kelle’s theory to the test. For the sake of rightly relating to Yahweh and fulfilling the call to be light to the nations (Isa. 49:6, Matt. 5:14-16), believers must face the unpleasant possibility that we have spent too much time sheltering behind boundaries of fear. We must strike out beyond those boundaries. If the church is to fulfill its mission, it cannot justify remaining indefinitely protected from the wider culture by appealing to short-term, isolationist solutions.

This means that our Chrisian communities must at some point attempt to balance inclusiveness with living the genuine gospel openly. Perhaps this could look like refusing to think of or openly label those with whom we have the deepest cultural and philosophical divides as “outsiders,” while also refusing to be affirming of any higher agenda than the gospel; the communal imago Dei (of which all humanity is potentially a part). To receive the affirmation of God as a valued and reconciled individual in community is the most distinguishing Christian characteristic: unlike biases and agendas that orbit lesser definitions (e.g. self-sourced moralism). This sentiment would likely conflict with many existing biases, both within the church and without, but it is better aligned with the promise of the patriarchs than the strategies mentioned for the establishment of Christian communities in hostile territories.