Thursday, January 15, 2026

Two Perspectives on Permanence

 by Rev. William M. Brennan, TH.D.

Temporal “Endlessness,” Celestial Eternity, and the Intervention of Christ

Much confusion in Christian debates about judgment, punishment, and “eternity” comes from treating the word eternal as though it always refers to a single kind of duration: the infinite extension of time. Yet Scripture, tradition, and ordinary experience suggest that there are at least two different ways something may be “without end.” One is the kind of permanence that belongs to time and history—what may be called temporal permanence. The other is the permanence that belongs to God and the heavenly order—what may be called celestial permanence. Once these two realms are distinguished, the meaning of “eternal” becomes clearer, and the role of Christ as the decisive interruption of an otherwise unending condition becomes central.

1. The Temporal Realm: Endlessness as Natural Trajectory

The temporal realm is the sphere of created life as it unfolds within history. Here, things persist through causes, continuities, and internal momentum. A “temporal permanence” is not necessarily something that is metaphysically infinite; rather, it is something that has no internal stopping point. It is unending in itself, not because it possesses some divine property of infinity, but because nothing within the system provides an exit.

This kind of “endlessness” appears everywhere in ordinary life. A fire left unattended does not stop because it has reached the end of fire; it stops only when fuel is removed or another force intervenes. Likewise, cycles of violence do not halt because violence grows tired; they end when interrupted by reconciliation, justice, or exhaustion of resources. In the same way, a disease can be “terminal” not because it possesses infinite power, but because the body has no inner capacity to overcome it. The illness would continue to its end if nothing outside the system disrupts it.

This is a crucial category for theology. Certain realities are “eternal” in the sense that they are self-perpetuating conditions. They have no built-in conclusion. Left alone, they proceed endlessly—not absolutely, but indefinitely.

2. Sin and Death: The Unending Condition Outside Christ

When Christian theology speaks of sin and death reigning over humanity, it often describes them not merely as moral failures but as a realm, a dominion, a power. To be “outside Christ” is not just to be guilty; it is to inhabit an order in which the human person cannot, by inward effort, undo the situation. This is why sin is frequently described as bondage, slavery, or captivity rather than merely as a mistake.

In this sense, alienation from God is endless. Not endless because God wills infinite misery as a first principle, but endless because the state of separation contains no internal mechanism for its own healing. A soul turned away from the source of life does not naturally reconstitute itself into communion by sheer passage of time. Time, by itself, does not heal spiritual death any more than time, by itself, reverses physical decomposition. If the condition is death, time does not act as medicine; it acts as continuation.

This gives weight to the stark warnings of judgment. Judgment is not a mere “slap on the wrist.” It is the recognition that, apart from divine rescue, the human condition is not self-correcting. Outside the medicine of God, the illness persists. Outside the light of God, darkness does not become light simply by remaining dark for a long time.

Therefore, the temporal realm can contain a kind of unending torment: not necessarily because torment is metaphysically infinite, but because in the fallen order there is no internal path to liberation. Within this realm, it is coherent to say that punishment or misery is “unending”—not as a philosophical claim about infinity, but as a statement about hopelessness within the system itself.

3. Celestial Permanence: Eternity as the Divine Mode of Being

Celestial permanence is different. It is not merely “very long time,” or time stretched without end. It is the permanence of the divine life, the stability of God’s own being, and the unshakable reality of what is grounded in Him.

What is “eternal” in the celestial sense is not merely a process that continues; it is a reality that exists beyond the vulnerabilities of time. This eternity is not measured by duration but by participation in the life of the Eternal One. It is not just indefinite persistence; it is incorruptibility. It does not depend on conditions remaining favorable, because it is not contingent in that way. It is the permanence of what cannot decay.

This is why “eternal life” in Christian language is not simply “life that lasts forever.” It is the life of God shared with creatures. It is communion, incorruption, and participation in the divine victory over death. Eternal life is not merely endless biological continuation—it is life in the mode of God’s immortality.

Thus “eternal,” when applied to God or to salvation, carries a celestial meaning: not endless time but divine permanence. It is life that cannot be undone because it rests on the foundation of God Himself.

4. Why the Same Word Can Point to Two Different Realities

If the temporal realm contains trajectories without internal end, and the celestial realm contains divine permanence, it becomes possible to see why “eternal” language can be misunderstood. The same word—eternal—may be used in two distinct but related ways:

  1. Temporal unendingness: something continues without internal terminus

  2. Celestial eternity: something belongs to God’s incorruptible order

This means that “eternal punishment” does not have to be treated as a simplistic mathematical statement (“infinite duration”), nor does it have to be dismissed as meaningless. It can mean: punishment belonging to the final order of judgment; punishment having decisive seriousness; punishment that, within the fallen condition, does not resolve itself from the inside.

In other words, it can be “unending” in the temporal sense—without internal remedy—while still being subject to the higher reality of God’s intervention.

5. The Arrival of Christ: The External Interruption

The heart of the Christian proclamation is precisely that Christ enters the human situation as an external intervention. He does not merely offer advice to people trapped in an unending condition; He breaks the condition itself. Redemption is not time continuing as usual; it is an invasion of grace that introduces a new possibility that did not previously exist within the system.

This is why the Gospel is not merely moral instruction. If moral instruction were sufficient, humanity could slowly evolve out of bondage by internal progress. But Christian faith asserts something far more radical: that sin and death are powers that cannot be overcome from within. The only hope is that God steps into history and changes the structure of reality.

Christ’s coming is therefore a cosmic interruption. The trajectory of death is altered not by slow improvement but by decisive conquest. A door appears where no door existed. A healing enters from beyond the disease. A resurrection breaks the closed loop of decay.

This is not only about individuals; it is about realms. Christ changes the realm itself. He transfers humanity from one dominion to another. What was previously “endless” because it had no internal surcease is now confronted by an external Redeemer who brings surcease from beyond the system.

6. Implications: Eternal Misery Is Not the Final Word

Once Christ’s intervention is taken seriously, the notion that unending torment must be absolute becomes less obvious. It may be that torment is unending so long as the person remains outside Christ, because outside Him the condition has no internal healing. But the Gospel announces that Christ does not merely stand at the edge of this realm offering sympathy—He enters it, harrows it, breaks it, and leads captives out.

In this way, the “unending” nature of misery is not denied; it is reinterpreted. It is unending by nature, but not unending by necessity, because God is not bound by the nature of the fallen system. The whole point of Christ is that He introduces a new necessity: the necessity of grace, the necessity of divine victory, the necessity of resurrection.

This allows one to speak with honesty about judgment without making despair a metaphysical principle. Judgment is real because the fallen condition is real. Torment is real because separation from life is real. But Christ is more real still—not merely because He lasts longer, but because He belongs to the celestial permanence of God’s own life, and therefore cannot be overcome.

7. Conclusion: Eternity Belongs to Christ, Not to Death

In the final analysis, the Christian confession is not that death is eternal, but that God is eternal. Whatever is unending in the temporal realm—sin, misery, punishment—has no internal cure, and therefore appears endless to those trapped within it. But the coming of Christ reveals that the deepest form of permanence does not belong to death at all. Celestial permanence belongs to the Eternal One.

Therefore “eternal” must be handled with care. It can describe a condition that continues indefinitely by its own momentum; it can also describe the incorruptible life of God. The decisive difference is this: temporal permanence can be interrupted by a power from outside the system, but celestial permanence cannot be interrupted because it is grounded in God Himself.

And this is the meaning of Christ: the Eternal One entering time to end what time could not end. The endlessness of sin and death is not defeated by more time; it is defeated by eternity stepping into time. When Christ comes on the scene, everything changes—not because the clock runs longer, but because a new realm arrives.

Thursday, January 8, 2026

The True Israel of God in Opposition to the Error of Evangelical Zionism

by Rev. William M. Brennan, TH.D.

Abstract

This essay argues that the New Testament consistently redefines “Israel” not as an ethnic entity grounded in physical descent from Abraham, but as a spiritual people constituted by union with Christ. Drawing upon the preaching of John the Baptist, the teachings of Jesus, and the apostolic witness—especially in Romans, Galatians, Ephesians, Hebrews, and Revelation—this study demonstrates that covenant identity is relocated from the physical and national to the spiritual and eschatological. The essay further critiques dispensational and Christian Zionist readings that subordinate the New Testament to the Old, thereby obscuring the once-hidden mystery now revealed in Christ and reintroducing ethnic distinctions the gospel has decisively overcome.


1. Introduction

The New Testament’s understanding of Israel represents not a marginal doctrinal adjustment but a fundamental reconstitution of the people of God. While Second Temple Judaism largely defined covenant membership in terms of Abrahamic descent and Torah observance, the New Testament consistently challenges such definitions. From the preaching of John the Baptist through the ministry of Jesus and the theology of the apostles, ethnic privilege is dismantled and replaced by a Christ-centered, Spirit-created people.

This essay contends that the New Testament presents a unified theological vision: true Israel consists of those who belong to Christ by faith, irrespective of ethnicity, and that this vision must govern the interpretation of earlier Scripture.


2. John the Baptist and the Collapse of Ethnic Presumption

The New Testament’s redefinition of Israel begins not with Paul, but with John the Baptist.

In the Gospel of Matthew 3:7–9, John confronts the Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism:

“Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham.”

Several crucial theological claims emerge:

  1. Physical descent from Abraham does not guarantee covenant standing

  2. God’s power to create children renders ethnic lineage irrelevant

  3. Repentance, not ancestry, marks true heirs of the kingdom

John explicitly denies that the religious elite are true children of Abraham by virtue of descent alone. This anticipates the New Testament’s broader insistence that God’s people are defined by divine action and repentance, not genealogy.


3. Jesus and the Rejection of Abrahamic Claims

Jesus intensifies John’s critique by directly denying Abrahamic sonship to unbelieving Jews.

In the Gospel of John 8:39–44, Jesus declares:

“If you were Abraham’s children, you would be doing the works Abraham did… You are of your father the devil.”

Here, Jesus redefines descent ethically and spiritually rather than biologically. True sonship is demonstrated by resemblance in character and obedience, not bloodline. By calling his opponents “sons of the devil,” Jesus explicitly rejects ethnic determinism in favor of moral and spiritual affiliation.

This teaching is inseparable from the earlier declarations that:

  • God could raise children for Abraham from stones (Matt 3:9)

  • Many from east and west would sit with the patriarchs, while “sons of the kingdom” would be cast out (Matt 8:11–12)

Together, these sayings establish that membership in Israel is contingent upon response to God’s revelation in Christ.


4. Typology: From Earthly Shadows to Heavenly Realities

A central hermeneutical principle of the New Testament is that physical realities in the Old Covenant pointed forward to greater spiritual realities fulfilled in Christ.

4.1 Temple → Christ and the Church

Jesus identifies himself as the true temple (John 2:19–21), a claim later extended to the church as his body (1 Cor 3:16; Eph 2:21). The locus of God’s presence is no longer geographical but Christological and ecclesial.

4.2 Land → Heavenly Inheritance

The promised land, long regarded as the heart of Israel’s identity, is reinterpreted eschatologically. Hebrews insists that the patriarchs themselves sought a better, heavenly country (Heb 11:13–16). Paul likewise speaks of believers as citizens of heaven (Phil 3:20).

In the Epistle to the Hebrews, the earthly is repeatedly contrasted with the heavenly:

  • Earthly priesthood → eternal priesthood of Christ

  • Earthly sanctuary → heavenly reality

  • Old covenant → new and superior covenant

The physical promise land thus functions typologically, pointing beyond itself to the heavenly Jerusalem.


5. The Heavenly Jerusalem and the True People of God

The New Testament explicitly locates the fulfillment of Israel’s hope in a heavenly city, not an earthly nation-state.

  • Hebrews 12:22: “You have come to Mount Zion… the heavenly Jerusalem”

  • Galatians 4:26: “The Jerusalem above is free, and she is our mother”

  • Revelation 21: The New Jerusalem descends from heaven as the dwelling of God with his people

These texts leave little room for a return to an ethnic or territorial definition of Israel. The inheritance is eschatological, universal, and Christ-centered.


6. Apostolic Theology: One People, One Identity

Paul’s declarations bring the argument to its theological climax.

  • Romans 2: True Jews are inward, by the Spirit

  • Romans 9: Not all Israel is Israel

  • Galatians 3: Those of faith are Abraham’s children

  • Galatians 3:28: “There is neither Jew nor Greek”

  • Ephesians 2: One new humanity in Christ

The church is not a secondary people alongside Israel but the continuation and fulfillment of God’s covenant purpose.


7. A Critique of Dispensationalism and Evangelical Zionism

Dispensationalism and many forms of evangelical Zionism invert the New Testament’s hermeneutical priority by interpreting the New Testament through the Old rather than the Old through the New.

This approach results in several theological problems:

  1. Ethnic distinctions are reintroduced after Christ has abolished them

  2. The once-revealed mystery of Jew–Gentile unity (Eph 3:4–6) is effectively re-concealed

  3. Earthly shadows are re-elevated over heavenly realities

  4. The church is marginalized as a “parenthesis” rather than affirmed as the people of God

Such readings stand in tension with the apostolic insistence that the gospel represents the full and final revelation of God’s redemptive plan.


8. Conclusion

From John the Baptist to Jesus, from Paul to Hebrews and Revelation, the New Testament speaks with remarkable unity: true Israel is not defined by blood, land, or ethnicity, but by faith in Christ and participation in the Spirit. Physical realities—temple, land, nation—served as shadows pointing toward a greater spiritual fulfillment now realized in Christ and his people.

To return to ethnic or territorial definitions of Israel after the revelation of Christ is not to honor the Old Testament, but to misunderstand it. The mystery once hidden has now been revealed: God has created one people, one inheritance, one race in Christ—and all who belong to him are the true children of Abraham.

Monday, January 5, 2026

Divine Love, Privation, and the Moral Character of God: A Christological Critique of Augustinian and Calvinist Soteriology

by Rev. William M. Brennan, TH.D.

Abstract

This essay argues that the Augustinian–Calvinist account of divine goodness and love is internally incoherent and theologically deficient when measured against its own metaphysical commitments and the Christological revelation of God in Scripture. By examining the doctrine of evil as privation, the moral implications of selective non-redemption, and the life and teaching of Jesus Christ, it is contended that the refusal of divine aid to redeemable creatures constitutes an exacerbation of privation incompatible with perfect goodness and self-giving love. The essay concludes that a non-restorative account of divine love fails both philosophically and Christologically.


1. Introduction

Within the Western Christian tradition, the theology of Augustine of Hippo and its later development in John Calvin has exercised enormous influence on doctrines of divine goodness, love, and salvation. Central to this tradition is the claim that God’s refusal to redeem all creatures is compatible with perfect goodness and love, grounded either in divine justice (Augustine) or divine sovereignty (Calvin).

This essay challenges that claim. It argues that once evil is understood as privation of the good, and once divine love is interpreted through the moral character of Jesus Christ, selective non-redemption becomes morally incoherent. The refusal to heal corruption when healing is possible does not merely permit evil; it perpetuates and exacerbates privation. Moreover, such a conception of divine love stands in sharp tension with the self-giving, restorative love revealed in Christ.


2. Evil as Privation and the Moral Implications of Non-Redemption

Augustine’s privation theory of evil (privatio boni) holds that evil is not a substance or positive reality but a lack of the good that ought to be present. Corruption, sin, and disorder are deficiencies in being rather than entities in their own right. This framework is intended to absolve God of responsibility for evil by denying evil any ontological status.

However, this metaphysical move carries significant moral implications. If evil is a lack, then the moral response to evil is not merely restraint or permission, but restoration. A privation, by definition, calls for the reintroduction of the good that is absent. Consequently, when a perfectly good and omnipotent being knowingly refuses to restore a privation that it can restore at no cost, such refusal cannot be morally neutral.

The Augustinian distinction between causing evil and permitting evil collapses once remediation is possible. Permission may be morally intelligible where intervention is impossible, costly, or unjust; but where none of these constraints apply, non-intervention becomes a deliberate continuation of lack. Thus, on Augustine’s own metaphysical terms, non-redemption entails the perpetuation of privation.


3. Justice, Desert, and the Misplacement of Moral Reasoning

Augustine seeks to justify selective grace by appealing to human desert: all have sinned, none deserve salvation, and therefore God is not unjust in withholding grace from some. Yet this line of reasoning conflates juridical justice with ontological healing.

Privation is not a legal penalty but a deficiency of being. To refuse to restore a being to its proper good because it “deserves” corruption is conceptually confused. Illness is not justified by guilt, nor is healing rendered unjust by its gratuity. Once evil is understood as lack rather than crime, the relevant moral category shifts from retribution to beneficence.

Appeals to desert thus fail to address the central problem: why a perfectly good being would knowingly leave creatures in a corrupted state when restoration is possible.


4. Calvin’s Sovereignty and the Eclipse of Moral Goodness

Calvin radicalises Augustine’s position by grounding divine goodness not in any intelligible moral structure but in the divine will itself. Whatever God wills is good by definition. While this move secures internal consistency, it does so at the cost of evacuating moral language of content.

If goodness simply means “what God does,” then God’s love is no longer recognisable as love in any meaningful sense. Moral praise becomes impossible, and the claim that “God is good” ceases to be informative. Moreover, Calvin’s account instrumentalises privation: the continued corruption of the non-elect serves the end of divine glory. Evil, though officially denied ontological status, is granted functional necessity.

This position intensifies rather than resolves the moral problem. Privation becomes not merely tolerated but purposively sustained.


5. Christological Revelation and the Moral Logic of Divine Love

Christian theology affirms that the moral character of God is decisively revealed in the person and life of Jesus Christ. Christ is not merely a messenger of divine love but its embodiment. Consequently, doctrines of divine goodness must be coherent with Christ’s moral posture.

Christ consistently portrays divine action as need-responsive rather than desert-based. His declaration that He came “not for the righteous, but to heal the sick” establishes corruption as the very ground of divine intervention. Throughout the Gospels, Christ associates with morally compromised individuals, heals without precondition, and treats refusal to restore when possible as morally indefensible.

The physician metaphor is especially instructive. A physician does not withhold treatment because illness is self-inflicted or undeserved. Healing is not an act of discretionary mercy opposed to justice; it is simply what goodness does in the presence of need. By choosing this metaphor, Christ precludes the Augustinian justification of non-aid.


6. Power, Responsibility, and the Cross

In Christ, power generates responsibility rather than exemption. Christ heals because He can; He forgives because He can; He bears suffering because He can. Most decisively, on the cross, God absorbs the cost of restoration rather than refusing aid to preserve justice or sovereignty.

If God in Christ willingly enters the deepest privation to restore enemies, it becomes incoherent to claim that the same God eternally refuses to heal corruption where healing remains possible. The cross reveals divine love as self-giving, not selectively withholding.


7. Ethical Imitation and the Problem of Inimitable Goodness

Scripture repeatedly calls believers to imitate God and Christ. Yet under the Augustinian–Calvinist scheme, humans are commanded to love enemies, heal the broken, and refuse abandonment, while God is said to do precisely the opposite at the ultimate level. This renders divine goodness ethically inimitable and fractures the unity between divine command and divine action.

A goodness that cannot be mirrored is not exemplary; a love that withholds healing when healing is possible is not Christlike.


8. Conclusion

This essay has argued that the Augustinian–Calvinist account of divine goodness and love fails on three fronts. Metaphysically, it is inconsistent with the doctrine of evil as privation. Morally, it permits the unnecessary perpetuation of corruption by a perfectly good being. Christologically, it conflicts with the self-giving, restorative love revealed in Jesus Christ.

If evil is lack, goodness must heal.
If love is revealed in Christ, it must be restorative and non-withholding.

Selective non-redemption cannot be squared with either. The problem is not that Augustine and Calvin take divine holiness too seriously, but that they take Christ’s moral revelation insufficiently seriously. Christian theology, if it is to remain faithful to its centre, must allow Christ—not abstract attributes—to define the meaning of divine goodness and love.

Two Perspectives on Permanence

 by Rev. William M. Brennan, TH.D. Temporal “Endlessness,” Celestial Eternity, and the Intervention of Christ Much confusion in Christian ...