Kings in the King
Mark Giacobbe
Why was the Book of Acts written? This is a question that many scholars and students of the Bible have wondered about. On the one hand, it is not too hard to come up with a reason that Luke, the author of Acts as well as the Gospel that bears his name, wrote his history of the early church. After all, the story of how the risen Lord Jesus was at work through the Spirit in the lives of the disciples—as they boldly proclaimed the gospel, demonstrated it with acts of power, and planted churches among the unreached—was simply too good not to be shared! On the other hand, at the time when Acts was written, there really was not much of a precedent for such a book. While there were likely other Gospels around when Luke wrote his Jesus story, as far as we know there were no other histories of the early church. As well, when we stop and think about it, there are some features of Acts that can leave us puzzled. Why, for example, does Luke include the things he includes, and (perhaps more importantly) exclude what he excludes? In particular, why does Acts end the way it does, with Paul awaiting trial in Rome (the event the whole book was leading up to)—with no clear resolution or outcome? It’s unusual if you stop and think about it. In my own life, questions like these led to a multi-year journey to attempt an answer, not just to the question of what Acts is about, but the Gospel of Luke as well.
When we think about the meaning of the New Testament, we should be thinking about the Old Testament as well. We know that Jesus fulfills everything written about him in the Law, the Prophets, and the Psalms (see Luke 24:44). But when we think “fulfillment,” it is all too easy to do so merely in terms of specific prophecies—like Bethlehem as the birthplace of the Messiah (Mic 5:2; see Matt 2:6) or the Suffering Servant of Isaiah 53 (see Acts 8:28–35) when, in fact, fulfillment also extends to wider, and more subtle, patterns: Patterns established under the Old Covenant that point forward to the coming King and his Kingdom. In the case of Luke and Acts, one way to ask the question about Old Testament influence is this: given that Luke and Acts are a two-part story, with part one about King Jesus and part two about His kingdom, are there any portions of the Old Testament that reflect a similar two-part pattern? It turns out that there are: The books of Samuel and Kings, as well as 1 and 2 Chronicles. Both tell the same basic story. Part 1 (that is, 1 and 2 Samuel, and 1 Chronicles), is about King David—arguably the greatest figure of the Old Testament. Part 2 (1 and 2 Kings and 2 Chronicles) is about what happened to the kingdom after David passed from the scene and his heirs took over (it wasn’t pretty, but I’ll get to that in a minute). It turns out that there are good reasons to think that Luke has exactly this two-part story in mind as he tells the two-part story of Jesus and his disciples, and this helps us to understand why Luke wrote Acts and why he wrote his Gospel the way he did.
First, one question to get out of the way: Aren’t Samuel and Kings two books each, actually making it a four-part story? Not really. Each of those books was originally written as one book in the original Hebrew. So Samuel and Kings are a two-part story. What’s more, 1 and 2 Chronicles are retelling this same basic story. Part 1 (that is, 1 and 2 Samuel and 1 Chronicles) is about David, including his origins and rise to the throne, as well as his sufferings and ultimate triumph over his enemies. Part 2 (1–2 Kings and 2 Chronicles) is about what the heirs of David’s kingdom did after he died. In short, they basically drove it into the ground, leading to the exile in the 6th century B.C. I believe that this story—the two-part account of King David and his Kingdom—is the story that Luke is picking up on when he writes Luke and Acts. I’ll explain why below.
A second question might be, isn’t the New Testament version different from the Old? Of course! King Jesus is not just a king like David. He’s the true and better David, completely faithful where his predecessor was not. What about the apostles and disciples? If they are the “kings” in this analogy, are they basically the same as the sinful Old Testament kings? Far from it—and this is where it gets really exciting. Empowered by the Holy Spirit, all throughout the Book of Acts the apostles and disciples prove themselves to be faithful, expanding the kingdom even to the “end of the earth” (Acts 1:8 ESV), not contracting and ruining it like the Old Testament kings. So there are similarities, but also some differences. This idea raises at least two questions: Why should we believe this, and why does it matter?
It turns out that there are a lot of good reasons for believing that Luke has this particular Old Testament story in mind when he writes Luke and Acts. To list a few. First, Luke was a top-notch Greco-Roman historian, and the very best historians back then looked for earlier patterns when they wrote history—they even imitated earlier works as a way of tipping their hat to the pattern. While this may sound odd to us, since as Westerners we prize originality, this just wasn’t how they thought back then. As one historian even put it, “A great part of art lies in imitation” (Quintilian, Institutio oratoria). You can see other historians doing the same thing, such as the Jewish historian Josephus, whose Jewish Antiquities was a subtle nod to an earlier work of history called Roman Antiquities by Dionysius.
Second, Luke tips his hand that he thinks of Jesus as a new and better David. Notice what the angel says to Mary when he announces the Messiah’s birth: “And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1:32–33). Other explicit references to David in connection to Jesus occur in Luke 1, 2, 3, 6, 18, and 20, and in Acts 1, 2, 4, 7, 13, and 15, with many more implicit connections besides—too many to list here. In fact, one scholar even goes so far as to say, “From birth to baptism, to passion, resurrection, and ascension, Luke presents Jesus as the Davidic anointed one sent to rescue and rule over Israel” [1].
Third, Luke also portrays the disciples of Jesus as new royal figures, albeit sometimes in subtle ways. For example, in all three Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke), there is a place where Jesus sternly admonishes his disciples that they are to lead as servants (Matt 20:25–28; Mark 10:42–45; Luke 22:25–27). But in Matthew’s and Mark’s version of this, Jesus contrasts them with generic “rulers” of the gentiles. In Luke’s version, he uses a different word: “kings” (Luke 22:25). In other words, the disciples are compared to kings—but not worldly kings, other-worldly ones! Also in Luke 22, Jesus explicitly tells the apostles, “I assign to you, as my Father assigned to me, a kingdom” (Luke 22:29). We could go on. For example, even the word “witnesses” in the famous verse Acts 1:8 is a subtle reference to King David (see Isa 55:4), indicating that the apostles and disciples are like new “mini-Davids” as they bear witness to the risen Lord Jesus. And to be clear, this doesn’t just apply to the twelve apostles. It applies to all followers of Jesus, ordinary disciples as well as apostles, men and women alike. Just like Adam and Eve were created as God’s royal image bearers, we too, as restored image bearers, are “kings in the king.” We possess kingdom authority!
Fourth, and finally, we can see some of the clearest markers of the Old Testament pattern at the beginning of Luke and the end of Acts—precisely in the two places where ancient historians were most likely to give a shoutout to the older work they were following. We all know that Luke’s Gospel starts the way no other Gospel does, not with the origin of Jesus, but that of his predecessor (John the Baptist) who prepares the way. We have an infertile woman (Elizabeth), a miraculous intervention, and songs of praise when God acts (Luke 1:46–55; 67–79). It turns out that this is the same way that 1 Samuel begins. There, we hear first not about the birth of David, but of Samuel, who prepared the way for David—also by an infertile woman, whom God touches, resulting in praise to God (1 Sam 2:1–10).
Fast-forwarding to the ending of Acts, after narrating the arrest and trials of Paul in such detail, Luke seems to leave his readers hanging once he is safely in Rome, with key questions about his fate left unanswered. The ending of Acts is surprising, ambiguous, and open—but why? Once again, a look back to the Old Testament provides a clue. Back in 2 Kings 25:27–30, at the very end of the Old Testament story, we read the story of Jehoiachin, a king in exile, who, for no obvious reason, is allowed a degree of freedom even while in captivity—just like Paul. Also like Paul, we never hear what ultimately became of him. What’s more, this happens in Babylon—the capital of the major world empire in its day, just like Rome was in the first century. And so, when we compare the ending of Kings with the ending of Acts, we see something very similar. Both stories end with a key figure alone in a foreign land, in bondage while strangely free, without any clear resolution of the story. The location is equivalent, the capital of the main world empire, a long way from where the books began in Jerusalem. Even the “tone” of both is precisely the same: A mix of hope and uncertainty; “neither a final interpretation of the story, nor a clear happy ending” as one scholar puts it [2]. While there are other theories that might account for this ending, I believe the most likely one is that Luke, in telling the story of Paul in Rome just the way he does, signals to the reader that he sees the story told in Samuel-Kings as being brought to its ultimate fulfillment.
If this is true, then what does this mean for us, two thousand years removed from Acts? Several things. First, this understanding of Luke and Acts should lead us to an even greater appreciation for the word of God, especially how the Old Testament is fulfilled in the New. The word of God is like a field filled with buried treasure, and we, armed with sound hermeneutics and the Spirit’s empowerment, should always be on the lookout for more, like treasure hunters digging for gold. Second, it should lead to even greater praise to God, as we see the wonder of his plan for salvation unfold. God, the sovereign ruler of history, is the one who causes former patterns to be repeated in a “higher key” in these last days. He is also the sovereign author of our lives, weaving them into his grand story of salvation in the King of kings. Finally, this understanding of Luke and Acts can help us remember who we are: We are royals. We are “kings in the King,” possessing kingdom authority to love, to serve, and to proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God. The Old Testament kings failed in their mandate, but we, empowered by the Spirit, will not fail until the kingdom of this world becomes the kingdom of our Lord and Christ.
Mark Giacobbe - Citylight Church - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania - Author, Luke the Chronicler: The Narrative Arc of Samuel-Kings and Chronicles in Luke-Acts (Brill, 2023).