King Jesus of Nazareth: An Evidential Inquiry

Abstract

This article examines the ‘King Jesus Gospel’ concept proposed by Michael Bates and Scott McKnight, which frames the biblical gospel as a proclamation of Jesus’ kingship. It addresses the ‘Failure Objection’ that Jesus was merely a failed apocalyptic prophet who died without fulfilling his predictions. Drawing on N.T. Wright’s work, this article constructs the ‘King Jesus Hypothesis’ and evaluates it using evidence from religious transformation, cultural values, and human progress. Employing the Criterion of Predictive Power, it argues that historical religious innovations (drawing on the work of Larry Hurtado), Western moral values (drawing on the work of Tom Holland), and measurable human flourishing (drawing on the work of Steven Pinker) are best explained by Jesus successfully inaugurating God’s Kingdom through cultural transformation rather than apocalyptic intervention. Through this analysis, the article demonstrates that compelling evidence supports Jesus’ kingship despite the Failure Objection.

1. Introduction

1.1. The Nature of the Gospel: The King Jesus Gospel

According to Matthew Bates (2017), the biblical gospel is fundamentally a political proclamation that Jesus is King. This assertion of Jesus’ kingship means acknowledging his supreme authority and right to rule over all creation. This perspective challenges more common modern understandings that focus primarily on personal salvation or individual spiritual transformation. We can state this conception of the gospel more fully and precisely as follows:

(1) (Gospel)

The Gospel (Greek: εὐαγγελίου, translated also as ‘Good News’) is the specific message that Jesus of Nazareth is the King of Israel, and thus of all reality.

Within this perspective concerning the Gospel—which has been termed the ‘King Jesus Gospel’ (hereafter, KJG)—‘saving faith’ is a comprehensive pledge of ‘allegiance’ to Jesus as the crucified and risen king. That is, Bates (2017) argues persuasively that the New Testament language of pistis (faith), when situated in its ancient context, connotes a wholehearted loyalty that encompasses all dimensions of life—intellectual convictions, moral priorities, spiritual affections, and embodied practices. Thus, in this conception of salvation—termed ‘Salvation by Allegiance’ (hereafter, SBA)—salvation is understood not merely as assent to abstract truths or as a transaction for personal forgiveness, but as a wholehearted pledge of loyalty to Christ as the enthroned Lord. Saving faith is reframed as a reorientation of one’s entire life—beliefs, affections, priorities, and actions—around the reality of Jesus’ sovereign lordship. It is a transfer of ultimate allegiance from the fallen powers of this world to the inaugurated Kingdom of God embodied in the person of Jesus. This view of the gospel and salvation as allegiance to King Jesus is further supported by the work of Scott McKnight (2011), who conceives of the gospel as the fulfilment of Israel’s story. This is that, according to McKnight (2011), the true gospel is not just a plan of personal salvation, but the declaration that the story of Israel finds its resolution and completion in the story of Jesus—his life, death, resurrection, and exaltation as ‘messiah’ (the anointed one) and thus king. The KJG (which received its name from McKnight’s work) is the correct conceptualisation of the gospel. However, modern evangelicalism (and other forms of Christianity), according to McKnight (2011), has reduced the gospel to a message focused solely on individual salvation, which he terms a ‘salvation culture’. In contrast, McKnight (2011) advocates for recovering the ‘gospel culture’ of the early church. That is, McKnight’s view of the gospel frames salvation within the larger narrative of God’s work in history through Israel and ultimately through Christ—where it is not about personal forgiveness of sins, but about Jesus, the Messiah and thus king, who is the climax of God’s purposes for Israel and the world.

1.2. The Nature of the Failure Objection: What Evidence for the Gospel?

The KJG and SBA are indeed interesting ways in which one can conceive of the gospel and saving faith; however, one can ask the important question of if it is, in fact, true. That is, in focusing on the KJG, what grounds do Christians have for conceiving Jesus as the reigning king of the world (and all of reality)? An objector to the KJG could argue that it is quite clear that Jesus was a failed messianic figure who operated as an apocalyptic prophet but failed to bring about God’s Kingdom and the new world as he predicted. Let us term this objection the Failure Objection, and state it more succinctly as follows:

(2) (Failure Objection)

Jesus cannot be the king, as proclaimed by the KJG, since, as contemporary historical scholarship suggests, he was an apocalyptic prophet who predicted the imminent end of the world and establishment of God’s Kingdom, yet died without fulfilling these predictions.

The Failure Objection poses a significant challenge to the KJG by highlighting the apparent disparity between Jesus’ messianic claims and the historical outcomes of his ministry. This objection argues that if Jesus were truly the divinely appointed Messiah destined to establish God’s Kingdom, then his execution by Roman authorities represents a fundamental failure of his mission rather than its fulfilment. This objection gains particular strength when considering contemporary historical Jesus scholarship. Many prominent scholars, including Albert Schweitzer ([1906] 2001), Dale Allison (1998), Bart Ehrman (1999), and the earlier work of the Jesus Seminar, have portrayed the historical Jesus primarily as an apocalyptic prophet who proclaimed the imminent arrival of God’s Kingdom. According to this scholarly consensus, Jesus anticipated a dramatic divine intervention that would overthrow existing power structures and establish a new world order within the lifetime of his followers. His teachings about the ‘Son of Man coming on the clouds’ and statements like ‘this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place’ suggest he expected these events to occur soon.

Yet, this apocalyptic vision apparently never materialised in the way seemingly predicted. Jesus was executed as a failed revolutionary, his movement temporarily scattered, and the expected cosmic transformation did not occur. Two thousand years later, the world continues without the dramatic intervention Jesus allegedly prophesied. These historical realities, according to contemporary scholarship, suggest that Jesus’ messianic project failed on its own terms.

Moreover, the Failure Objection extends beyond Jesus’ apocalyptic predictions to encompass his broader messianic identity. In the Jewish context of Jesus’ time, the Messiah was expected to restore Israel’s political independence, defeat her enemies, and establish an era of peace and prosperity. Jesus accomplished none of these conventional messianic expectations. Instead of triumphantly overthrowing the Roman occupation, he was executed by it. Instead of unifying Israel under his leadership, his movement remained marginal during his lifetime. The scholarly reconstruction of the historical Jesus suggests someone whose apocalyptic vision and messianic project failed to materialise in empirically verifiable ways.

The Failure Objection also points to the early church’s need to reinterpret Jesus’ mission in light of his execution. The development of resurrection theology, the postponement of the parousia (the second coming), and the spiritualisation of the kingdom concept all suggest attempts to make theological sense of what was, in historical terms, the failure of Jesus’ ministry to achieve its apocalyptic goals. The emergence of these theological innovations appears to be reactions to the cognitive dissonance created by Jesus’ death without fulfilling his apocalyptic predictions.

In essence, the Failure Objection challenges proponents of the KJG to reconcile their theological claims with the historical evidence that suggests Jesus was an apocalyptic prophet whose central predictions did not come to pass. The Failure Objection thus calls into question whether the concept of Jesus as the king is a viable foundation for understanding the gospel and salvation, given the apparent historical failure of Jesus’ messianic mission as reconstructed by contemporary scholarship. However, as the gospel is central to Christian life and identity—by shaping believers’ understanding of salvation, mission, and their relationship with God—and as proponents of the KJG argue that this is the correct understanding of the nature of the gospel—the Failure Objection cannot be ignored. That is, Christians must grapple with this challenge and formulate a compelling response to maintain the integrity and coherence of their faith in light of apparent historical reality. The focus of this article is to do just that. There will be a focus on the notion of ‘explanatory power’, specifically using the ‘Criterion of Predictive Power’, which focuses on assessing whether a hypothesis predicts (i.e., explains) certain data that would otherwise be unexpected (or left unexplained). In addition to the utilisation of this methodology, an explanatory hypothesis will also be formulated regarding Jesus’ kingship, drawing on the work of N.T. Wright. It is important to note the hypothesis—that is, the conception of the person and work of Jesus—that is being built upon the work of Wright, differs significantly from the apocalyptic interpretation advanced by Schweitzer and his followers. This is that, while Schweitzer portrayed Jesus primarily as an apocalyptic prophet who predicted an imminent cosmic intervention that failed to materialise, Wright presents a more nuanced understanding, as he sees Jesus as consciously inaugurating God’s Kingdom through his life, death, and resurrection in a way that did not require immediate apocalyptic intervention. Wright (1996) argues that Jesus understood himself as fulfilling Israel’s story and vocation, embodying Israel’s role as God’s representative, inaugurating the Kingdom of God, and launching the new creation. And, as will be unpacked, and evidenced through our analysis, an extension of Wright’s thesis concerning the kingdom is that it would transform the world gradually through cultural influence rather than through sudden cosmic catastrophe. That is, after Jesus’ ascension, this kingdom would operate through the ‘representative community’ that was established by Jesus during his lifetime that would represent him on earth and extend his work throughout history. This all will allow Wright’s thesis, and thus the hypothesis built on his work, to address the apparent ‘failure’ of apocalyptic predictions by reframing Jesus’s mission as one that succeeded on its own terms—launching a new creation that would progressively transform human society rather than immediately ending the present age through catastrophic intervention. The focus will thus be to analyse the evidential status of this hypothesis (and thus also the concept of the historical Jesus forwarded by Wright).

So, subsequently, over three stages of evidential analysis, there will be an examination of data on religious transformation (drawing on Larry Hurtado’s work), secular values (drawing on Tom Holland’s research), and transformative impacts on human flourishing (drawing on Steven Pinker’s findings). This evidence will provide a means to assess whether one has good grounds for affirming the hypothesis, with the position being reached that this specific evidence is indeed best explained by the truth of our hypothesis, thus providing good reason for rejecting the Failure Objection and affirming the veracity of the KJG.

Thus, the plan is as follows: In Section 2 (‘Methodology and the King Jesus Hypothesis’), there will be an explication of our inferential methodology focused on the Criterion of Predictive Power, along with the historical–theological context and the King Jesus Hypothesis drawn from Wright’s work. Then, in Section 3 (‘Stage One: The Inauguration of the Religious Kingdom’), there will be an examination of the religious aspect of the Kingdom, analysing four key religious innovations (religious exclusivity, ethnic inclusivity, scriptural centricity, and ethical equality) identified by Larry Hurtado, followed by an evidential analysis of how the King Jesus Hypothesis explains these innovations. In Section 4 (‘Stage Two: The Inauguration of the Secular Kingdom’), there will be an analysis of the secular aspect of the Kingdom, examining four societal values (human dignity and universal rights, compassion and social justice, rational inquiry and progress, and individual conscience and institutional separation) identified by Tom Holland, followed by an evidential analysis of these transformations. In Section 5 (‘Stage Three: The Inauguration of the Transformative Kingdom’), there will be an analysis of the transformative aspect of the Kingdom, examining five dimensions of human progress (enlightenment principles, health and longevity, economic prosperity, peace and safety, and democracy and knowledge) identified by Steven Pinker, followed by an evidential analysis of these developments. Finally, Section 6 (‘The Global Proclamation of the King Jesus Gospel’) will explore future trajectories and implications of the KJG. Finally, Section 7 (‘Conclusion’) will summarise the above results and conclude the article.

2. Methodology and the King Jesus Hypothesis

2.1. The Nature of the Criterion of Predictive Power (i): Methodological Statement

The specific methodology that will be utilised in our analysis will be that of assessing a particular hypothesis against the ‘Criterion of Predictive Power’, which is used in science and history (and other fields) as a specific evidential criterion for assessing a given hypothesis, relative to a certain data set. We can state the criterion more succinctly as follows:

(3) (Predictive Power)

This criterion assesses whether the postulated hypothesis predicts the data, when otherwise this event or data would not be expected to have been found.

The Criterion of Predictive Power stands as one of the fundamental pillars in the evaluation of hypotheses and theories across disciplines. This criterion assesses whether a postulated hypothesis predicts observed data that would otherwise remain unexpected or inexplicable. Crucially, this predictive capacity does not necessitate that the hypothesis literally forecast future events; rather, it requires only that the hypothesis provides a sufficient explanation for data, regardless of whether this information was gathered in the past, present, or will be collected in the future. The essence of this criterion lies in a hypothesis’s ability to render intelligible what would otherwise remain mysterious under competing explanatory frameworks. In the philosophy of science, predictive power encompasses more than mere temporal anticipation. It embodies the capacity of a theory to account for observations in a manner that renders them non-coincidental. When a hypothesis possesses strong predictive power, it demonstrates that the observed phenomena are natural consequences of the theoretical framework, rather than arbitrary occurrences. This distinguishes robust theories from ad hoc explanations that might be retrofitted to existing data without offering genuine insight into underlying mechanisms or principles.

Now, the history of scientific advancement is replete with examples where the predictive power of hypotheses has driven paradigm shifts in our understanding of the natural world. Albert Einstein’s General Theory of Relativity explained the long-standing anomaly in Mercury’s perihelion precession that had puzzled astronomers since Le Verrier’s calculations in 1859, providing a precise account of the 43 arcseconds per century discrepancy. Mendeleev’s periodic table made sense of the previously chaotic collection of known elements, revealing underlying patterns in atomic weights and chemical properties that had been observed but not understood. Charles Darwin’s theory of natural selection explained the puzzling geographic distribution of species and the strange anatomical similarities between diverse organisms, including vestigial structures that had long perplexed naturalists. Paul Dirac’s quantum equation successfully accounted for the fine structure of hydrogen spectral lines that had been measured but remained theoretically inexplicable under earlier quantum models.

Whilst often associated primarily with natural sciences, the Criterion of Predictive Power extends meaningfully into historiography. In historical scholarship, predictive power operates when a theoretical framework successfully explains existing evidence that had previously resisted coherent interpretation. Heinrich Schliemann’s hypothesis that Homer’s Iliad contained genuine historical information made sense of archaeological remains at Hisarlik that had been known but not connected to Homeric narratives—the multiple settlement layers and fortifications suddenly aligned with descriptions of Troy’s destruction and rebuilding. Jean-François Champollion’s approach to the Rosetta Stone explained the mysterious relationship between hieroglyphic, demotic, and Greek scripts that scholars had observed for decades without comprehension, revealing how the same text could be represented in three writing systems. In forensic history, the 1991 exhumation and analysis of remains near Ekaterinburg demonstrated predictive power when DNA evidence, skeletal analysis, and bullet trajectories finally explained the confused and contradictory accounts of the Romanov family’s execution in 1918—the physical evidence of grouped skeletal remains, specific wound patterns, and burn marks suddenly made coherent sense of conflicting eyewitness testimonies and Bolshevik cover-up attempts that had puzzled investigators for seven decades.

Despite their different subject matters, both scientific and historical applications of the Criterion of Predictive Power reveal strong methodological parallels. In both domains, robust theories transform seemingly disconnected phenomena into comprehensible patterns and guide researchers toward evidence that would otherwise remain undiscovered. The criterion distinguishes genuine explanatory frameworks from mere post hoc rationalisations by requiring that theories render intelligible what would otherwise remain unexpected. Through this lens, we recognise that knowledge advances not merely through the accumulation of data, but through the development of conceptual frameworks that render diverse phenomena comprehensible within unified explanatory structures.

2.2. Background Context: Historico-Theological Context

In forwarding the specific hypothesis that will be under analysis, a certain Historico-theological context is to be assumed, which draws from the work of N.T. Wright (1992), and can be stated succinctly as follows:

(4) (Context)

Second Temple Judaism understood Israel as God’s covenant people chosen to restore creation despite humanity’s fall, serving as ‘royal stewards’ over creation while experiencing exile due to covenant unfaithfulness, yet awaiting divine intervention through a promised Messiah who would end their exile, restore God’s presence to Zion, and guide humanity into its true vocation as God’s image-bearers.

Unpacking this more fully, one can understand that the Second Temple Jewish belief in a singular God—termed in contemporary times ‘monotheism’—was closely tied, as noted by Wright (1992), to their conviction that Israel was this God’s special people. That is, the Second Temple Jewish monotheistic belief had implications concerning its covenant theology, where, on a broad scale, Jewish covenant theology posited that despite creation’s rebellion, the creator had chosen a people, Israel, to restore it. However, on a narrower scale, Israel’s own troubles and questions about God’s sovereignty and their suffering are to be attributed to their breach of the covenant. Yet, they believe God will remain committed and restore them (Wright 1992). More fully, according to Wright (2016), God expressed his perfect goodness in creating humans, Adam and Eve, for fellowship with him and to fulfil their vocation as ‘royal stewards’ over creation—in a manner that fills the earth with God’s blessing, reflecting the praises of creation to God and, in turn, reflecting his justice, goodness and love into the world (in a manner analogous to an ‘angled mirror’). However, these humans turned from God and thus experienced the ‘fall’, leading to them becoming ‘corrupted’ and alienated from God and each other. That was, the first humans fell into ‘sin’—rebellious idolatry in which they worshipped and honoured the elements of the natural world rather than the God who had created them. The result of this was that the cosmos, and everything within it, became disordered—all things thus entered into slavery to the ‘dark powers’ that had been given the authority to rule through the idolatrous actions of God’s image-bearing human creatures. As, instead of humans having been God’s wise viceregents over created reality, they, instead, ignored the creator and, in turn, worshipped created reality. The result of this was ‘death’—where the controlling image for death was ‘exile’ (Wright 2012). And thus, the death that Adam and Eve were promised by God, in response to their rebellion, was that of them having been expelled from the Garden—and thus they were exiled from their ‘land’ to wander in lands that had no life in themselves. In the beliefs of the Second Temple Jews, as noted by Wright (1992), we saw a positioning of Abraham as the solution to humanity’s downfall—such that Abraham and his descendants (Israel) had inherited Adam and Eve’s role. God thus elected Abraham and entered into a covenant with Israel in order to have a special people for himself who lived in faithfulness to him. And thus, the idea of a covenant was crucial to ancient Judaism, where, at the basis of this covenant was that of Israel being the creator’s true representation of humanity (Wright 1992). Yet, the election of Israel is not an act of isolation from the other nations of the world, but, instead, they were created to fulfil the vocation of being royal stewards over creation as a nation of priests—and thus serve the role of being a light onto the other nations, ultimately connecting the creator to the rest of his creation. Hence, God’s original creation plan was still in place: humans are to fulfil the vocation of being royal stewards and fill his earth with his glory, with the election of Abraham, and Israel in him, being the means of accomplishing it. That is, the Second Temple Jews thus believed that God had entered into a covenant with Abraham, where he was elected for a purpose, with the terms of their agreement being that God would be faithful to Abraham and his descendants, such that they would be his people. And they were required to keep his commandments set out in the Torah, and thus be a light to the world.

However, if they were unfaithful to their covenant, they would ultimately be taken into exile. And, over time the unfaithfulness of Israel to their covenant led to the forewarned exile occurring—historically enacted by the Babylonians invading and destroying Jerusalem in 597 BCE, and carrying away the Judaeans captives into exile, which coincided with God’s (YHWH’s) presence leaving the land of Israel (Zion). Yet, despite the forewarning of the exilic consequences of Israel’s covenant unfaithfulness, the Jewish covenantal belief led to questions about why Israel was in this condition as the chosen people of God, and why she continued to suffer in this state (Wright 1992). And it was these questions that shaped Israel’s hope and covenant requirements—with a prevailing belief, expressed by the various prophets, that one special day, God would act in such a manner to put an end to exile. However, even after various remnants of the Israelites returned from Babylon, the full prophesied ‘return from exile’ had not occurred. That is, according to Wright (1992), though some of the Jews had returned from geographical exile, most believed that the theological state of exile was still continuing—and had been continuing since the sixth century BCE Hence, the Second Temple Jews believed that they were living in a centuries-old story that was still awaiting a turn in the story that would change these state of affairs forever—in short, the Second Temple Jews were awaiting a real return from exile. The hope and expectation were thus that the creator would eventually intervene to transform the current realities—that a ‘new exodus’ would occur where Israel is released from their oppression and freed to live under God within his ‘kingdom’. However, for this to occur—for Israel to be delivered from her problems—it was believed that God needed to address the root cause of her problem—namely, her sin. Hence, the prophets consistently conveyed that Israel’s troubles stemmed from her sins, and their resolution was intertwined with her redemption (Wright 1992). Sacrifices and rituals were not just acts of individual piety but affirmed national hope and identity, and amidst these challenges, there was a belief that through suffering and redemption, Israel would eventually find her promised glorious future, when Israel finally returns from exile and YHWH finally returns to Zion. This is the plan that throughout scriptures affirmed by the Second Temple Jews is articulated in terms of God’s choice of Israel as the means of redemption, and then, after the long history of God and Israel, God will send the ‘messiah’ (i.e., the anointed one)—who is one of Abraham’s descendants, and thus is Israel’s representative—to deal with the problem. And so the belief here is that, as humans were made to be God’s royal stewards over creation, the anointed one sent by God will be God’s true royal steward and ruler over all of his world—the king of Israel, and thus all of reality. In short, the true human being, the Messiah, God’s ‘son’, the ‘divine’ king, would come to free humanity from their sins and lead the human race into their true identity.

2.3. The Nature of the Hypothesis: The King Jesus Hypothesis

The particular explanatory hypothesis under assessment is that of the King Jesus Hypothesis (hereafter, KJH), which draws from the work of Wright (1992, 1996),1 and can be stated succinctly as follows:

(5) (Hypothesis)

Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah (the anointed one), and thus the King of Israel (and, therefore, of all of reality), initiated, through his life, death and resurrection, the inauguration of the Kingdom of God on Earth and the launch of the new creation, and established a representative community to continue furthering his kingdom and bringing the new creation to fuller realisation.

In further unpacking (5), one can first understand, historically, that Jesus began his ministry around 28–29 CE, and, according to Wright (1996, p. 201), from this point on, Jesus portrayed God’s salvation plan unfolding through him, inaugurating God’s Kingdom and bringing the ‘new exodus’. He proclaimed the kingdom’s arrival in unexpected ways, calling Israel to be royal stewards and a light to the nations through a path of peace and love. Jesus’ teachings, parables, and actions, such as his inclusive meals and healings, embodied the mission he preached and redefined what it meant to be a true part of Israel. He emphasised the joy of entering the kingdom and the risks of rejecting God’s anointed messiah And it was Jesus’ teaching and symbolic temple actions that implied his messianic status. By symbolically overturning tables and ceasing the usual sacrifices in the Temple, Jesus indicated that it was facing divine judgment, emphasizing that God would not only destroy the city and Temple but would also vindicate Jesus and his followers. As this judgment can traditionally only be pronounced by the King on God’s behalf, Jesus was claiming this status for himself through these actions. As he faced death, Jesus saw it as central to God’s redemption plan, taking on Israel’s suffering to bring about the true return from exile. He envisioned his crucifixion as the means by which the new exodus would transpire, combating evil, achieving forgiveness, and finally inaugurating God’s Kingdom (Wright 1996). Crucially, his resurrection launched the new creation and a transformative era. As the ‘firstborn’ and ‘new Adam’, Jesus sets the precedent for believers’ future resurrection (Wright 2007; Col. 1:18; Rev. 1:5; Rom. 5:12–21; Matt. 4:1–11). This new creation, as described by Wright (2007), involves a transformed, recreated earth (Rev. 21:1–2; Isa. 65:17, 66:22; 2 Pet. 3:13). However, Wright (2016, 2020) emphasises that while it has begun, it awaits ultimate fulfilment. In the meantime, the followers of Jesus are to nurture this renewal in the overlap of the present age and the coming age until Christ’s return brings the new creation to its fullness. Thus, the biblical narrative presents a continuous story of creation, with the old and new interlocking and the followers of Jesus playing a crucial role in the ongoing renewal of all things.

Integral to the KJH is the understanding that Jesus did not merely proclaim and inaugurate the kingdom, but deliberately established a representative community to continue his mission after his ascension. Wright (2012, p. 456) argues that Jesus consciously formed his disciples as the nucleus of a renewed Israel, the authoritative vanguard of God’s Kingdom. This is evident in his selection of twelve disciples, symbolically representing the twelve tribes of Israel (Mark 3:13–19; Matt. 10:1–4), and in his promises that they would ‘sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel’ (Matt. 19:28). Through intensive training, shared ministry experiences, and post-resurrection appearances, Jesus prepared this community to become the authoritative representatives of his kingdom (Wright 2003, pp. 641–42). The authority of this community was explicitly conferred by Jesus himself. As Wright (1996, p. 383) notes, Jesus bestowed upon his disciples the authority to ‘bind and loose’ (Matt. 16:19, 18:18), a rabbinical term for making authoritative decisions regarding doctrine and practice. Furthermore, in John’s Gospel, Jesus breathes the Holy Spirit upon his disciples, declaring, ‘If you forgive anyone’s sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven’ (John 20:22–23). Wright (2003, p. 645) interprets this as Jesus investing his disciples with royal authority to speak and act on his behalf in the world. This authority was dramatically confirmed at Pentecost when the Holy Spirit empowered the community to proclaim the kingdom with signs and wonders accompanying their ministry (Acts 2:1–41; Wright 2016, p. 128). The purpose of this representative community, according to Wright (2012, pp. 368–70), was not merely to preserve Jesus’ teachings but to actively extend his kingdom work. Jesus commissioned them to ‘make disciples of all nations’ (Matt. 28:19–20), to be his ‘witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth’ (Acts 1:8), and to proclaim repentance and forgiveness of sins in his name to all nations (Luke 24:47). This community was tasked with bringing the good news of the kingdom to the entire world, thereby furthering the kingdom’s reach across geographical, cultural, and ethnic boundaries. Moreover, Jesus established this community to continue the manifestation of new creation realities in the present age. Wright (2007, p. 213) asserts that the early church, as depicted in Acts, embodied the economic and social implications of the kingdom through shared resources (Acts 2:44–45, 4:32–35), reconciled relationships across previously insurmountable boundaries (Acts 6:1–7; Gal. 3:28), and demonstrated the healing and restorative power of the kingdom (Acts 3:1–10, 5:12–16). Through these practices, the community became the visible expression of the new creation breaking into the present world, what Wright (2007 p. 189) calls ‘signposts of the kingdom’. The church’s communal life thus became a foretaste of the fully realised kingdom, anticipating the complete renewal of all things.

The representative community also played a crucial hermeneutical role in interpreting Jesus’ ministry and its implications for the ongoing mission. Wright (2015 pp. 87–89) argues that the New Testament documents themselves represent the representative community’s inspired reflection on the meaning of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, and their implications for kingdom living. The apostolic writings, emerging from this community, became the normative guide for understanding how to embody and extend the kingdom in new contexts and generations. This hermeneutical authority ensured that Jesus’ kingdom vision would be faithfully transmitted and contextually applied throughout subsequent history. This understanding of the KJH thus highlights the continuity between Jesus’ ministry and the church’s mission. Wright (2016, p. 352) emphasises that the church does not replace Jesus in his kingdom work but serves as his authorised agent, empowered by his Spirit to continue what he began. The representative community exists not for its own sake but to serve Jesus’ ongoing work of bringing the kingdom to expression in the world. As Wright (2012, p. 571) asserts, ‘The point of the church is to be the people through whom the kingdom-bringing Jesus is at work in the world’. In this sense, the church becomes both the product of God’s Kingdom and the primary instrument through which that kingdom continues to advance toward its ultimate fulfilment when Christ returns to complete the new creation.

In all, our proposed analysis of the veracity of the KJH represents a methodologically rigorous approach to evaluating Jesus’ kingship through the Criterion of Predictive Power—assessing whether the postulated hypothesis of Jesus as king accounts for historical data that would otherwise remain unexpected. Drawing from N.T. Wright’s scholarship on Second Temple Judaism, this hypothesis proposes that Jesus of Nazareth, as the Messiah and rightful King of Israel, inaugurated God’s Kingdom through his life, death and resurrection, thereby launching the new creation and establishing a representative community tasked with extending his kingdom’s influence throughout history. This framework provides a coherent explanatory model against which the following evidence can be evaluated.

3. Stage One: The Inauguration of the Religious Kingdom

3.1. The Religious Aspect of the Kingdom

Stage one of our analysis will focus on the ‘religious aspect’ of the Kingdom of God, which constitutes the foundational theological framework through which early Christianity understood its identity and mission in the world. The Kingdom of God, as proclaimed by Jesus, represented not merely a future reality but a present, transformative force that redefined religious consciousness, communal relationships, and ethical imperatives. The evidential basis of the religious aspect of this inaugurated kingdom will be focused on four distinct traits, identified by Larry Hurtado (2016), which have influenced the development of religion within world civilisation, from its ancient Roman foundation to its current form within the 21st century.2 We can state these distinct traits as follows:

(6) (Religion)

(i) Religious Exclusivity (ii) Ethnic Inclusivity (iii) Scriptural Centricity (iv) Ethical Equality

We will now explicate these various traits identified by Hurtado (2016) in more detail.

3.1.1. Religious Exclusivity

In the rich and diverse religious environment of the Roman world, before the rise of Christianity, religion was not a separate sphere of life but deeply embedded in every aspect of society (Hurtado 2016). The Roman Empire was characterised by a plurality of deities and a general acceptance of religious pluralism. People worshipped a pantheon of gods associated with various aspects of life, such as household deities, city guardians, and gods of the empire itself. Religious practices were ubiquitous, with rituals and sacrifices integrated into daily routines, social gatherings, and political events. The concept of worship was inclusive, and reverence was given to any and all gods, without exclusivity (Hurtado 2016). Christians were expected to worship the one God of the biblical tradition exclusively, dismissing all other gods as mere ‘idols’. This stance was particularly striking in the context of Roman-era religion, which was characterised by a diversity of deities and a general acceptance of religious pluralism. In contrast to the prevailing attitudes, where participating in the worship of multiple gods was not only accepted but expected, the Christian refusal to honour any deity other than their own was seen as bizarre and even antisocial (Hurtado 2016). Early Christian texts, such as Paul of Tarsus’ letter to the Thessalonians, in which the apostle praises the converts for turning away from ‘idols’ to serve the ‘living and true God’ (1 Thess. 1:9–10), serve as evidence of this uncompromising monotheism.

Moreover, the early Christian rejection of pagan deities was not merely a matter of personal belief but was actively reflected in their religious practices. Early Christian worship conspicuously lacked many elements central to Roman-era religion, such as temples, altars, sacrifices, and cult images (Hurtado 2016). These absences were not just incidental but highlighted a fundamental difference in how Christians understood and practised religion. In the Roman world, religious rituals were integrated into every facet of life, and the lack of these traditional practices made Christianity appear irreligious or even atheistic to outsiders. This absence was a direct consequence of the early Christian conviction that the one true God could not be adequately represented by material objects or appeased through sacrificial offerings.

Within this monotheistic framework, however, lies the Christian position concerning the unique status accorded to Jesus in both belief and devotional practice (Hurtado 2016). Through a careful analysis of early Christian texts, such as the letters of Paul and the Gospel accounts, it is evident that Jesus was revered by early Christians as the divine Son of God and the exalted Lord, worthy of the same devotion and worship as God the Father. This ‘dyadic’ devotional pattern was unprecedented, especially within the Jewish tradition from which Christianity emerged (Hurtado 2016). While Jews maintained strict monotheism, early Christians incorporated Jesus into their worship, creating a novel religious structure that set them apart from both Jews and pagans. This ‘dyadic’ devotional pattern, in which Jesus was reverenced alongside God as a recipient of prayer, hymns, and cultic devotion, was unprecedented in the Jewish tradition from which Christianity emerged and marked a significant departure from the norms of Roman-era religion (Hurtado 2016). Evidence from early Christian literature and practice supports this claim. For example, the invocation of Jesus’ name in early Christian baptismal rites (e.g., Acts 2:38; 19:5), the use of hymns and prayers directed to Jesus (e.g., Phil. 2:6–11; 1 Cor. 16:22), and the celebration of the Lord’s Supper as a meal in honour of Jesus (1 Cor. 11:23–26) demonstrate how Jesus was incorporated into the devotional life of early Christian communities in a way unparalleled in Jewish or pagan contexts. In the Roman religious context, such exclusive devotion to a single deity, especially one who had been a human figure, was unheard of (Hurtado 2016). The early Christians’ refusal to participate in the worship of other gods, coupled with their reverence for Jesus as divine, was seen as a radical departure from accepted religious practices.

The early Christian devotion to Jesus was not merely a matter of personal piety but had significant social and political implications. By refusing to participate in the worship of the gods and by ascribing divine honours to Jesus, early Christians challenged the religious and social norms of the Roman world, setting themselves apart as a distinct and potentially subversive community (Hurtado 2016). Their exclusivist stance often led to accusations of impiety from their pagan neighbours, as they were perceived to be rejecting the very fabric of social and religious life that held Roman society together. This exclusivist stance often led to tensions and conflicts with wider society, as evidenced by reports of sporadic persecution and the charges of ‘atheism’ levelled against Christians by their pagan critics. The distinctiveness of early Christian beliefs and practices is underscored by their emergence within a Jewish context. The early Jesus movement was initially a Jewish sect, and its devotion to Jesus as a divine figure alongside God represented a significant innovation within the Jewish tradition (Hurtado 2016). Unlike other Jewish groups, such as the Pharisees who focused on strict adherence to the Law, early Christians proclaimed a message that required both Jews and Gentiles to acknowledge Jesus as Lord. This placed them at odds with the wider Jewish community and marked them as a distinct religious group. By tracing the development of this ‘dyadic’ devotional pattern within the context of Second Temple Judaism, early Christian faith and practice reveal their unique and unprecedented nature.

Thus, the distinctiveness of early Christianity is illuminated through its uncompromising monotheism, its rejection of pagan deities, and its unique devotion to Jesus as a divine figure alongside God. In a world where religion was intertwined with every aspect of daily life, the Christian refusal to honour the traditional gods was seen not only as religious defiance but also as a challenge to social and political order. This stance was particularly offensive because, unlike Jewish exclusivism, it could not be dismissed as a mere ethnic peculiarity. While the Jews’ refusal to worship other gods was often seen as strange, it was generally tolerated as a feature of their distinct national identity, or ethnos. Early Christianity, however, drew many of its converts from non-Jews (or ‘Gentiles’), who had no such traditional justification for abandoning their ancestral deities. For these former pagans, converting meant an abrupt and total withdrawal from the worship of the gods of their own families and cities—rituals they had previously practiced. In the eyes of the wider public, this was not the peculiarity of a foreign nation but an unprecedented and inexplicable act of social and religious apostasy by their own people, a deeply antisocial stance that was far more objectionable than the Jews’ inherited customs. These defining characteristics were not confined to private belief but were expressed through practices that stood in stark contrast to the religious norms of the Roman world. Early Christians eschewed temples, altars, and sacrifices, instead fostering a devotional life centred on the worship of the ‘living and true God’ and reverence for Jesus as the exalted Lord. Their worship practices, including baptism and the Lord’s Supper, were unique rituals that further set them apart from both Jewish and pagan traditions (Hurtado 2016). Such practices and beliefs represented a radical departure from both the Jewish tradition in which Christianity emerged and the pluralistic religious landscape of the Roman era. The early Christian emphasis on love—both God’s love for humanity and the love believers were to show to one another and even to their enemies—was another distinctive feature that differentiated them from other religious groups of the time. By incorporating Jesus into their worship and elevating Him to divine status, early Christians developed a ‘dyadic’ pattern of devotion that was unprecedented in Jewish or Greco-Roman contexts (Hurtado 2016). This exclusivity often led to social tensions, as their refusal to participate in pagan worship and their attribution of divine honours to Jesus challenged prevailing norms. Through these unique elements, early Christianity emerged as a distinctive and transformative movement, fundamentally altering the religious and cultural dynamics of its time. Its characteristics reveal a faith that was both deeply rooted in its Jewish origins and boldly innovative, laying the foundation for its growth and enduring influence.

The distinctiveness that once set early Christianity apart has become the assumed normative position within many societies, particularly in the Western world. The monotheistic framework and exclusive devotion to a single God—concepts that were radical in the pluralistic religious environment of the Roman Empire—have been deeply ingrained in modern religious consciousness. This shift is evidenced not only by the predominance of monotheistic religions but also by the prevalence of atheism, which, in its rejection of God, implicitly acknowledges the default status of monotheistic belief systems. Atheism often arises in response to monotheistic traditions, indicating that the discourse on belief and unbelief is largely framed within the parameters established by early Christian monotheism. The early Christian rejection of multiple deities and the elevation of Jesus as a divine figure have thus profoundly influenced contemporary spiritual and secular paradigms. What was once a minority stance challenging prevailing norms has evolved into a dominant worldview that shapes current attitudes toward religion, ethics, and community values. This transformation underscores how the foundational beliefs and practices of early Christianity have not only endured but have redefined societal norms, making the Christian monotheistic perspective—and reactions to it—the standard against which other belief systems are often measured in today’s society.

3.1.2. Ethnic Inclusivity

In the ancient Roman world, religious identity was inextricably linked to one’s family, city, or ethnic background. Unlike modern societies, where individuals might separately identify their nationality and religious affiliation, in the Roman era, such distinctions were uncommon. Religious practices and duties were conferred at birth and were not considered a separate conceptual category. Practically everyone was presumed to honour the gods associated with their household, city, or nation. For example, Romans worshipped deities like Jupiter and Mars, Greeks honoured Zeus and Athena, and Egyptians revered Isis and Osiris (Hurtado 2016). These deities were integral to one’s identity, shaping social duties and cultural practices based on where one was born and to whom.

Now, one of the most striking aspects of early Christian identity was its transethnic and trans-local nature. In contrast to the typical pattern of the Roman era, where religious identity was largely determined by family, city, or ethnic background, early Christianity transcended these traditional boundaries. From an early point, the Jesus movement attracted both Jewish and Gentile converts, creating a new kind of religious community that defied ethnic divisions.3 Several key passages from early Christian texts support this point. For example, in Galatians 3:28, Paul famously declares that in Christ, traditional distinctions between ‘Jew and Greek’, ‘slave and free’, and ‘male and female’ are relativised (Hurtado 2016). While these ethnic, social, and gender categories did not disappear entirely, they were no longer regarded as defining features of identity within the Christian community. Similarly, in Romans 15:22–33, Paul reports on his efforts to foster solidarity between his largely Gentile churches and the Jewish believers in Jerusalem through a financial collection. This concern to bridge the divide between Jewish and Gentile Christians reflects the early Christian vision of a religious identity that transcended traditional ethnic boundaries.

Another significant aspect of early Christian identity was the emergence of voluntary religious associations that required exclusive devotion. While there were other voluntary religious movements in the Roman world, such as the mystery cults of Mithras and Isis, these did not demand the abandonment of traditional gods or exclusive worship (Hurtado 2016). Early Christianity, however, expected converts to renounce all other deities and practices associated with their previous religious identities. This exclusivity was unprecedented and marked a radical departure from the inclusive and additive nature of Roman religious practices. A further key piece of evidence for the distinctiveness of early Christian identity is the variety of self-designations used by believers in early Christian texts. Labels such as ‘brothers’, ‘saints’, ‘the assembly’ (ekklēsia), and ‘the Way’ point to the emergence of a ‘social dialect’ that reflected the strong sense of group identity among early Christians. Particular attention is given to the term ekklēsia, often translated as ‘church’. While this word could refer to a civic assembly in general Greek usage, its frequent appearance in the Septuagint as a designation for the people of Israel suggests that early Christians may have used it to claim a special religious status for their own gatherings (Hurtado 2016). The expression ‘church of God’, which appears in Paul’s early letters, indicates that believers saw their assemblies as having a unique connection to the divine. Furthermore, early Christians appropriated biblical language and imagery traditionally associated with the Jewish people to define their new community. This was evident in their use of terms like ‘chosen race’, ‘holy nation’, and ‘God’s own people’ from passages such as Ephesians 2:11–22 and 1 Peter 2:9–10. By applying these terms to a community composed of both Jews and Gentiles, early Christians reconfigured traditional Jewish identity markers to express their belief in a new, trans-ethnic people of God (Hurtado 2016). This redefinition often led to tensions with the wider Jewish community, as it challenged long-held notions of ethnic and religious exclusivity.

The use of biblical language and imagery in early Christian texts also expresses the idea that believers, whether Jewish or Gentile, were now incorporated into God’s chosen people. Passages such as Ephesians 2:11–22 and 1 Peter 2:9–10 apply terms like ‘chosen race’, ‘holy nation’, and ‘God’s own people’ to the Christian community, reflecting a radical reconfiguration of traditional Jewish identity markers (Hurtado 2016). While this appropriation of biblical language could lead to tensions with the wider Jewish community, it powerfully expressed the early Christian conviction that in Christ, a new, trans-ethnic people of God had been created. Hence, early Christianity presented a different identity that was not based on ethnicity, geography, or social status but on a shared faith in Jesus Christ. This identity required exclusive devotion to one God, rejecting the polytheistic practices common in Roman society (Hurtado 2016). By forming a community that transcended traditional boundaries and demanded exclusive allegiance, early Christianity challenged and reconfigured the prevailing assumptions about religious identity in the ancient world. This distinctive religious identity set early Christianity apart from the dominant patterns of religion in the Roman world. By highlighting the trans-ethnic, trans-local nature of the Christian movement, the emergence of a unique ‘social dialect’ among believers, and the appropriation of biblical language to express a new understanding of God’s people, early Christianity challenged and reconfigured traditional assumptions about religious identity in the ancient world. This distinctiveness laid the foundation for Christianity’s eventual emergence as a major world religion.

And, again, this distinctiveness has become the prevailing norm within many societies, particularly in the Western world. The concept of religious identity being separate from ethnic or national identity is now widely accepted, reflecting the early Christian emphasis on a trans-ethnic community united by shared beliefs rather than lineage or locality. For instance, major world religions such as Islam and Sikhism actively welcome adherents from any ethnic or national background, allowing individuals to join based on personal conviction rather than birthright or cultural heritage (Hurtado 2016). Modern nations like the United States and Canada are characterised by a multitude of religious affiliations coexisting within diverse ethnic populations, with individuals freely choosing their religious identities independent of their familial or cultural backgrounds. This inclusivity contrasts sharply with the pre-Christian position in the Roman world, where religious identity was inherently tied to one’s ethnicity and place of origin. The early Christian model of a voluntary association based on exclusive devotion to one God has profoundly influenced contemporary understandings of religious identity, making the separation of religion from ethnic and national ties the assumed position in today’s global society. This is that, today, the idea that anyone, regardless of ethnicity, can adopt a religion is the assumed position in many societies, underscoring how foundational elements of early Christian identity have been integrated into modern cultural frameworks (Hurtado 2016). This transformation highlights the enduring impact of early Christian distinctiveness on the way religious affiliation is perceived and practised in the contemporary era.

3.1.3. Scriptural Centricity

In the ancient Roman world, religion was largely characterised by practices, rituals, and traditions passed down orally or through communal activities rather than through sacred texts. Most religious groups did not centre their worship around the reading or study of holy writings (Hurtado 2016). While some cults and philosophical schools possessed writings, these were often reserved for priests or scholars and were not integral to the communal religious experience of the general populace. The public reading of sacred texts as part of worship was virtually unknown outside of Jewish synagogues.

Now, the distinctively ‘bookish’ nature of early Christianity within the ancient Roman world is a striking feature that set it apart from most other religious groups of the time.4 The centrality of texts and literacy practices played a critical role in shaping the religious identity, practices, and mission of the early church. One key piece of evidence for this bookishness is the prominent place of scripture reading in corporate worship. The practice of regularly reading sacred texts in gathered worship was shared by early churches and Jewish synagogues but was highly unusual in the wider Roman religious context. While some other Roman-era groups possessed sacred writings, these were typically reserved for priests and not read publicly as part of communal worship. Early Christian scripture reading, traced to Jewish roots, is evident in New Testament passages such as Luke 4:16–21 and Acts 13:14–15, which depict readings from the Torah and Prophets in synagogue services. This tradition was adapted in Christian circles to include readings from Christian texts like Paul’s letters and, eventually, the Gospels.

The importance of scripture reading in early Christian worship is further evidenced by instructions found in early Christian writings. For instance, 1 Timothy 4:13 exhorts leaders to ‘give attention to the public reading of scripture’, reflecting the established practice of reading sacred texts aloud for the edification of the community. By the mid-second century, as Justin Martyr attests, it was customary to read ‘the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets’ during Christian gatherings, indicating that both Old Testament scriptures and apostolic writings were integral to worship.

Evidence from early Christian writers such as Justin Martyr and the author of 1 Timothy confirms that by the mid-second century, reading both Old Testament scriptures and apostolic writings was a well-established part of Christian worship. This public reading of texts was crucial for shaping religious identity and practices, especially in a context where many believers were unable to read for themselves (Hurtado 2016). The extraordinary output of early Christian literary production further underscores the bookishness of the movement. In addition to the writings that would form the New Testament, Christians in the first three centuries produced gospels, letters, apocalypses, apologetic works, theological treatises, and martyrdom accounts, far surpassing the literary output of most other religious groups. This prolific literary activity is remarkable considering the relatively small size and social standing of early Christian communities (Hurtado 2016). Unlike other religious groups of the time, early Christians were neither part of the wealthy elite nor did they have access to extensive resources. Yet, they invested significant time and effort into composing and disseminating a wide array of texts.

Early Christian writers adapted and transformed existing literary genres for their purposes. For instance, the Pauline epistles exceed the length and theological depth of typical Greek letters, functioning as vehicles for pastoral instruction and doctrinal exposition. Paul’s letters are notably longer than the average letter of the time, with some, like Romans and 1 Corinthians, containing thousands of words. This reflects an innovative use of the letter form to address complex theological issues and maintain communication with dispersed communities (Hurtado 2016). Similarly, the canonical Gospels represent a distinctive adaptation of the Greco-Roman biographical tradition, crafted to proclaim the unique significance of Jesus and the Christian message. The Gospels themselves are unprecedented in the ancient world, not only in content but also in their number and nature. Producing multiple biographical accounts of a single figure within a relatively short time span was highly unusual. The Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were composed within a few decades of each other, each offering a unique perspective on the life and teachings of Jesus.

The commitment to copying and disseminating texts also highlights the importance of written materials in early Christianity. Evidence from early Christian letters and manuscript discoveries reveals a lively trans-local circulation of writings, facilitated by networks of believers and requiring substantial investments of time and resources. This commitment reflects the high value placed on texts as a means of instruction, edification, and communication across dispersed communities (Hurtado 2016). In a context lacking a public postal service, the early Christian ‘book trade’ was a labour-intensive and distinctive enterprise. The effort involved in copying and circulating texts was considerable. Producing a single copy of a lengthy letter like Romans could take an experienced scribe up to two or three days of continuous work. Despite these challenges, early Christians were dedicated to sharing these writings widely. The letters of Paul, for example, were circulated among various churches and read aloud in congregations, serving as a substitute for his physical presence and reinforcing doctrinal teachings.

Unique physical and visual characteristics of early Christian books further demonstrate this bookishness. Early Christians displayed a notable preference for the codex format over the bookroll, a significant departure from Greco-Roman literary norms (Hurtado 2016). This adoption likely served practical purposes, such as enabling more portable and economical production of writings, as well as symbolic ones, visually setting Christian texts apart from pagan counterparts.

The codex format, resembling the modern book with pages bound together, allowed for easier access to different parts of the text and was more suitable for longer writings. The early Christian preference for the codex, especially for scriptural texts, was so strong that it became a distinguishing feature of Christian manuscripts. This choice was deliberate and counter-cultural, as the traditional and prestigious format for literary works in the Greco-Roman world was the scroll. Additionally, the consistent use of nomina sacra—special abbreviations for sacred names and titles—in Christian manuscripts functioned as a visual ‘branding’ of texts. This reverential scribal practice highlighted sacred names and reinforced the religious identity of the movement. The nomina sacra involved abbreviating words like ‘God’, ‘Lord’, ‘Jesus’, and ‘Christ’, often by using the first and last letters of the word with a horizontal line above them (Hurtado 2016). This practice was unique to Christian scribes and served both a reverential function and a means of distinguishing Christian texts from others. It reflects an early form of Christian visual culture, emphasizing the sacredness of certain terms and concepts. Early Christianity’s textual orientation reveals a movement deeply shaped by its commitment to scripture, literacy, and the written word. From the central role of scripture reading in worship to the prolific literary output and distinctive book practices, these elements were integral to the identity and cohesion of early Christian communities. This emphasis on texts and the dissemination of writings laid a foundation that would influence the theological, liturgical, and cultural development of Christianity in enduring ways.

The distinctively ‘bookish’ nature of early Christianity has become the normative framework within many societies, especially in the context of major world religions. The centrality of sacred texts and the practice of communal reading and study are now common features of religious life, reflecting the early Christian emphasis on scripture as foundational to faith and practice (Hurtado 2016). For example, in contemporary religious settings, it is customary for congregations, even outside of Christianity (and congregational reading of the Bible), to engage in regular readings from sacred writings such as the Quran, the Torah, the Guru Granth Sahib, etc. during worship services. This practice mirrors the early Christian innovation of integrating public scripture reading into communal worship, a concept that was virtually unknown in the pre-Christian Roman world. The widespread availability of religious texts, facilitated by advances in printing and digital technology, further underscores the assumed importance of sacred writings in modern spirituality. The expectation that religious adherents will engage with holy texts as a means of personal and communal edification reflects a significant shift from ancient practices, where religious knowledge was often mediated exclusively by a priestly class. Today, the emphasis on literacy and personal study within religious contexts demonstrates how the early Christian distinctiveness regarding sacred texts has been integrated into contemporary religious norms, again, fundamentally shaping how religion is practised and experienced in modern society.

3.1.4. Ethical Equality

In the ancient Roman world, religion was primarily focused on rituals, sacrifices, and traditional practices rather than on personal moral conduct or ethical transformation. While philosophies like Stoicism and Epicureanism addressed ethics, the prevailing religious systems did not typically demand moral behaviour as a central aspect of religious commitment. In this context, early Christianity emerged as a distinctive movement that placed a strong emphasis on behavioural requirements and moral transformation as integral to religious identity and practice. Early Christianity’s emphasis on ethical conduct set it apart from most other forms of religion in the ancient Roman world (Hurtado 2016). Unlike the ritual-centred pagan religions, Christianity insisted that moral behaviour was not just an adjunct to religious life but was at its very core. This ‘ethical dimension’ was reflected in the teachings, writings, and communal practices of the early Christians.

From the earliest writings, significant portions of the early Christian texts, particularly Paul’s letters, are devoted to instructing and urging believers to adopt specific patterns of behaviour as essential to their faith. These exhortations are grounded in theological convictions about the believers’ new identity in Christ and their calling to holiness, but they consistently focus on practical, everyday conduct. The Pauline epistles, for instance, are replete with ethical instructions that are closely tied to theological principles. Paul does not merely issue moral commands; he connects them to the transformative experience of salvation and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit (Hurtado 2016). This integration of theology and ethics was a hallmark of early Christian teaching. Paul’s teachings on sexual morality exemplify this emphasis. In passages such as 1 Thessalonians 4:1–8 and 1 Corinthians 6:12–20, Paul urges believers to ‘flee sexual immorality’ and to pursue sexual ‘holiness’, presenting a stark contrast to the more permissive attitudes of the wider Greco-Roman culture. Paul’s insistence that the bodies of believers are ‘members of Christ’ and ‘temples of the Holy Spirit’ provides a distinct theological foundation for this rigorous sexual ethic, applying equally to men and women. In the Greco-Roman world, sexual norms were markedly different, especially for men. Practices such as prostitution, sexual relationships with slaves, and pederasty were socially acceptable and often unregulated (Hurtado 2016). Paul challenges these norms by calling for sexual purity among all believers, emphasizing that their bodies belong to God and are sanctified through their relationship with Christ.

Early Christian opposition to practices such as infanticide, abortion, and the sexual exploitation of children further underscores the movement’s distinctive moral stance. While some pagan moralists also criticised these practices, early Christian writers consistently condemned them as violations of the divine will and developed specific vocabulary (such as ‘porneia’ and ‘paidophthoreo’) to denounce them (Hurtado 2016). This uncompromising ethical position flowed directly from Christian convictions about the sanctity of human life and the call to personal holiness. Infanticide and exposure of unwanted infants were common practices in the ancient world, often driven by economic hardship or a desire for male offspring. Early Christians, drawing on Jewish ethical traditions, vehemently opposed these practices. They viewed every human life as valuable and created in the image of God. Similarly, the sexual exploitation of children was widespread and culturally accepted, but Christians condemned it as a grave sin, coining new terms to articulate their disapproval and to reframe such actions as corrupt and abusive (Hurtado 2016). In addition to these specific moral teachings, early Christian behavioural exhortation often took place in a corporate and socially diverse context. Unlike the elite male settings of most ancient philosophical schools, early Christian gatherings included men and women, free and slave, adults and children, all of whom were addressed as moral agents responsible for living out their faith. The ‘household codes’ of Colossians, Ephesians, and 1 Peter address each of these groups directly, reflecting the early church’s conviction that all believers, regardless of status, were called to embody the gospel in their conduct.

The inclusion of diverse social groups within Christian communities was revolutionary. Philosophical teachings of the time were typically reserved for educated, elite males. In contrast, Christianity’s ethical instructions were disseminated among all members of the community. The household codes instructed not only husbands and masters but also wives, children, and slaves, recognizing them as individuals capable of moral decision-making and spiritual growth.

This inclusive and direct mode of address was a distinctively Christian innovation. By exhorting each group to the hearing of the others, these texts subtly challenged the hierarchical assumptions of the ancient world, even as they stopped short of advocating for the overturning of existing social structures. In these household codes, the mutual responsibilities of each group are emphasised (Hurtado 2016). Husbands are instructed to love their wives self-sacrificially, mirroring Christ’s love for the church. Masters are reminded that they have a Master in heaven, implying that they should treat their slaves justly. This approach fostered a sense of unity and mutual respect within the Christian community, promoting ethical conduct across social boundaries. The centrality of ethical teaching and moral formation in early Christianity represents a significant innovation in the ancient Mediterranean world. From the uncompromising sexual morality demanded of all believers to the socially inclusive context of moral exhortation, early Christianity exhibited a distinctive ‘ethical dimension’ that set it apart from the ritual-centred religions of its day (Hurtado 2016). While early Christian ethics were not always unique in their specific content, the movement’s success in promoting rigorous behavioural standards among a socially diverse membership was historically remarkable. The early Christian emphasis on ethics was not merely theoretical but was intended to transform the lives of believers and, by extension, the broader society. This transformative agenda was both individual and communal, seeking to reshape personal conduct and social relationships in accordance with divine principles.

This emphasis on moral transformation as integral to religious commitment laid the foundation for a new paradigm of religion in which belief and behaviour, theology, and ethics were inextricably intertwined. By making ethical conduct a non-negotiable aspect of religious identity, early Christianity charted a distinctive course that would have far-reaching consequences for the development of Christian thought and practice (Hurtado 2016). This integration of moral transformation into the fabric of early Christian life highlights the movement’s complex relationship with its cultural context, as it both adopted and adapted existing moral traditions while establishing a unique vision of religious commitment. Early Christianity’s ethical demands often put it at odds with prevailing cultural norms, leading to social tensions and sometimes persecution. However, this very distinctiveness also contributed to the appeal of Christianity, offering a coherent and compelling way of life that promised personal and communal renewal. Thus, early Christianity was distinctive in its strong emphasis on ethical behaviour as central to religious commitment. Through its teachings, practices, and community life, it fostered a transformative moral vision that set it apart from other religious and philosophical traditions of the ancient world. This ethical focus not only shaped the identity of early Christian communities but also laid the groundwork for Christianity’s enduring influence on Western moral thought.

The emphasis on personal moral conduct as integral to societal values has become a foundational aspect of many cultures, particularly in the Western world. The expectation that individuals, regardless of religious affiliation, adhere to ethical standards is now widely accepted, reflecting the early Christian integration of morality into the core of communal life. For example, modern religious communities across various faiths often emphasise ethical living, social responsibility, and personal transformation as essential components of spiritual practice (Hurtado 2016). Issues such as social justice, human rights, and ethical conduct in personal relationships are frequently addressed within religious contexts, demonstrating how moral considerations are central to contemporary religious discourse. This contrasts sharply with the pre-Christian position in the ancient Roman world, where religion and ethics were largely separate spheres (Hurtado 2016). Moreover, this ethical focus extends beyond religious contexts; non-religious individuals and secular movements also prioritise moral conduct and the intrinsic value of every person. Initiatives advocating for the rights of disabled individuals exemplify a widespread societal commitment to upholding human dignity and combating injustice. Again, such concerns for individual rights and ethical responsibility were largely unheard of in the pre-Christian ancient Roman world, where marginalised groups often lacked protection and recognition (Hurtado 2016). Over the centuries, the early Christian model of intertwining ethics with identity has profoundly influenced modern conceptions of morality, making the commitment to ethical living and the respect for individual worth fundamental aspects of contemporary society. This transformation underscores how the distinctiveness of early Christian ethics has become the normative framework within modern culture, shaping expectations of moral behaviour irrespective of religious belief and fostering a collective pursuit of justice and human dignity that was previously uncommon in ancient times.

In summary, early Christianity introduced four revolutionary religious innovations—religious exclusivity centred on monotheistic worship of God with Jesus alongside him, ethnic inclusivity transcending traditional tribal and geographical boundaries, scriptural centricity establishing texts as central to religious practice, and ethical equality demanding moral transformation from all believers regardless of social status. These distinctive features, as documented by Hurtado, represented radical departures from Roman religious norms that have since become normative across world civilisation, fundamentally reshaping how humanity understands and practices religion from ancient times to the present day.

3.2. Evidential Analysis of the Religious Aspect of the Kingdom

The evidential aspect of Stage 1 of our analysis will now focus on evaluating the KJH against the historical data explicated in the previous sub-section, in light of the general background data, which established the Historico-theological context for our analysis. The Historico-theological framework outlined in the previous section provides essential background for understanding how these Christian innovations fundamentally reshaped human civilisation. We can state the background evidence succinctly as follows:

(7) (Background1)

Second Temple Judaism understood Israel as God’s covenant people chosen to restore creation despite humanity’s fall, serving as ‘royal stewards’ over creation while experiencing exile due to covenant unfaithfulness, yet awaiting divine intervention through a promised Messiah who would end their exile, restore God’s presence to Zion, and guide humanity into its true vocation as God’s image-bearers.

The central postulation of the KJH—specifically, that Jesus inaugurated God’s Kingdom on earth, launched the new creation and established a representative community to continue this work—demonstrates remarkable predictive power when applied to the formation of religion; as in analysing the four distinctive traits of early Christianity—religious exclusivity, ethnic inclusivity, scriptural centricity, and ethical equality—we find that Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom and establishment of a representative community provides a compelling explanatory framework for these religious innovations that transformed the ancient world—and continues to be assumed as central aspects of religion within the contemporary world.

3.2.1. The King Jesus Hypothesis and Religious Exclusivity

Religious exclusivity stands as one of the most distinctive features of early Christianity within the Roman religious landscape. Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom and establishment of a representative community predicts this fundamental shift from polytheistic tolerance to monotheistic devotion precisely because if Jesus truly inaugurated God’s Kingdom as king, then exclusive allegiance to him would be the natural consequence. In a Roman world characterised by religious pluralism and the worship of multiple deities, the emergence of a community dogmatically committed to the exclusive worship of one God and the veneration of Jesus alongside this God would be highly unexpected. Yet, this is precisely what we observe in early Christian communities. The kingdom inaugurated by Jesus demanded total allegiance in a way that made participation in other religious practices impossible.

The remarkable dyadic worship pattern—where early Christians revered Jesus alongside God the Father—makes perfect sense if Jesus truly established himself as the divine king and inaugurated God’s Kingdom. This was not merely a theological innovation but carried profound social implications, as Christians refused to participate in civic religious ceremonies and faced accusations of atheism and impiety.

Without the postulation of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration and establishment of a representative community, it becomes difficult to explain why early Christians would adopt such a socially disadvantageous position. Their refusal to engage in conventional religious practices made them social outsiders and sometimes targets of persecution. From a purely sociological perspective, such exclusivity was counterproductive. Yet, if Jesus truly inaugurated God’s Kingdom and commissioned his followers to expand that kingdom throughout the world, then their uncompromising stance becomes not only explicable but expected. Jesus’ declaration that ‘No one can serve two masters’ (Matthew 6:24) becomes the operational principle for his kingdom’s citizens. The claim of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration thus offers predictive power for understanding why Christians insisted on exclusive devotion despite its social costs—they were operating under the authority of a king who demanded complete allegiance.

Furthermore, Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts the remarkable elevation of Jesus to divine status within an otherwise monotheistic framework. The ‘dyadic’ devotional pattern—where early Christians worshipped Jesus alongside God—would be inexplicable without the belief that Jesus was not merely a teacher or prophet but the divine king who had inaugurated God’s Kingdom. The paradoxical combination of strict monotheism with the worship of Jesus as divine finds a natural explanation in Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom, where Jesus is understood as God’s anointed king, sharing in divine authority through his life, death, resurrection and exaltation. This distinctive worship pattern emerged rapidly after Jesus’ death, suggesting it was integral to the movement from its earliest stages—precisely what we would expect if Jesus had indeed established himself as divine king during his earthly ministry.

3.2.2. The King Jesus Hypothesis and Ethnic Inclusivity

Ethnic inclusivity represents another remarkable feature of early Christianity that Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom and establishment of a representative community elegantly predicts. In the ancient Roman world, religious practices were inseparably tied to ethnicity, family lineage, and geographic location. The emergence of a religious community that transcended ethnic and social boundaries would be highly unexpected. Yet, if Jesus truly inaugurated a kingdom that was to encompass all peoples, then the formation of a trans-ethnic religious community becomes a logical and expected outcome of this kingdom’s expansion. The postulation of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts that Jesus’ followers would form a community that transcended traditional ethnic and social divisions precisely because they were citizens of a kingdom that claimed universal jurisdiction.

Paul’s revolutionary declaration in Galatians 3:28 that ‘There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus’ directly reflects the universal nature of Jesus’ kingdom. This remarkable trans-ethnic religious identity would be difficult to explain without the claim that Jesus inaugurated a universal kingdom. The establishment of diverse churches across the Mediterranean world, incorporating members from different ethnic, social, and gender categories, demonstrates the predictive power of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration. If Jesus was merely a Jewish teacher offering wisdom for living a good life, we would not expect his movement to rapidly transcend ethnic boundaries. But if he truly inaugurated a universal kingdom, then the trans-ethnic nature of early Christianity becomes not merely explicable but expected.

Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration also accounts for the early Christian appropriation of biblical language traditionally associated with Israel. Terms like ‘chosen race’, ‘holy nation’, and ‘God’s own people’ being applied to a community composed of both Jews and Gentiles reflects the belief that Jesus’ kingdom represented the fulfilment of Israel’s story and the inauguration of a new creation that incorporated all nations. This reconfiguration of Jewish identity markers to include Gentiles without requiring them to adopt Jewish practices like circumcision would be highly unexpected in the ancient world. Yet Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom predicts precisely this development, as Jesus established a kingdom that fulfilled Israel’s vocation while extending it to all peoples.

The requirement of exclusive devotion further underscores the predictive power of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration and establishment of a representative community. Unlike other voluntary religious associations in the Roman world, Christianity demanded that converts abandon all other religious allegiances. This exclusivity makes perfect sense if Jesus truly claimed to be the king whose authority extended over all aspects of life. The thesis of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts that members of Jesus’ kingdom would view their primary identity as citizens of that kingdom, superseding all other allegiances. The emergence of a ‘social dialect’ with terms like ‘brothers’, ‘saints’, and ‘the assembly’ (ekklēsia) further demonstrates how Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts the formation of a distinctive community identity centred around allegiance to Jesus as king.

3.2.3. The King Jesus Hypothesis and Scriptural Centricity

Scriptural centricity represents another distinctive feature of early Christianity that Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom and establishment of a representative community powerfully explain. In a religious landscape where rituals and traditions rather than texts dominated religious practice, the emergence of a ‘bookish’ religion centred around the reading, study, and production of texts would be highly unexpected. Yet Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts precisely this development. If Jesus inaugurated God’s Kingdom and established a representative community to continue his work, then we would expect that community to be deeply concerned with preserving, interpreting, and disseminating Jesus’ teachings and the writings that authenticated his kingdom’s claims.

The prominence of scripture reading in early Christian worship directly reflects the claim that Jesus established a representative community tasked with understanding and implementing his kingdom vision. Jesus himself appealed to scriptural authority during his ministry, frequently citing the Jewish scriptures to validate his kingdom message. His declaration that ‘man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God’ (Matthew 4:4) established a precedent for the scriptural centricity that would characterise his kingdom community. The representative community Jesus established would naturally continue this emphasis on scriptural authority as they sought to understand and implement his kingdom vision.

The extraordinary literary output of early Christians—producing gospels, letters, apocalypses, and theological treatises—further demonstrates the predictive power of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration. If Jesus truly inaugurated a kingdom that was to expand throughout the world, then the documentation and dissemination of his teachings and the theological implications of his life, death, and resurrection would be essential for the kingdom’s growth. The adaptations of existing literary genres—such as Paul’s lengthy theological epistles and the unique gospel format—reflect the need to articulate the revolutionary implications of Jesus’ kingdom for diverse audiences. Without the claim that Jesus established a representative community to continue his kingdom work, this remarkable literary productivity would be difficult to explain.

The distinctive physical characteristics of early Christian texts, including the preference for the codex format over scrolls and the use of nomina sacra (special abbreviations for sacred names), further reflect the formation of a community with a distinctive religious identity centred around Jesus’ kingship. These innovations would be unexpected in the ancient literary world unless they served to distinguish the authoritative texts of Jesus’ kingdom community from other writings. Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration thus provides explanatory power for understanding why early Christians developed distinctive book practices and invested considerable resources in copying and circulating texts across the Mediterranean world.

3.2.4. The King Jesus Hypothesis and Ethical Equality

Ethical equality stands as perhaps the most revolutionary aspect of early Christianity that Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom and establishment of a representative community elegantly explains. In an ancient context where religion was primarily concerned with rituals rather than moral transformation, and ethical requirements were typically limited to elite males, the emergence of a religious movement that emphasised ethical behaviour for all adherents regardless of social status would be highly unexpected. Yet the postulation of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts precisely this development. If Jesus truly inaugurated God’s Kingdom and established ethical standards for that kingdom that applied to all its citizens, then we would expect his followers to form communities characterised by rigorous moral expectations for all members.

Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom predicts that Jesus’ kingdom would operate according to different ethical principles than the surrounding culture. Jesus’ teaching that ‘whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant’ (Mark 10:43) established an ethical framework that inverted conventional hierarchies. His moral teachings applied equally to all his followers, regardless of social status, gender, or ethnicity. The representative community he established would naturally continue to emphasise ethical transformation as an essential aspect of kingdom citizenship. This explains why early Christian writers devoted significant portions of their texts to ethical exhortation, grounding moral behaviour in theological convictions about believers’ new identity in Christ.

Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration also explains why early Christians developed a distinctive sexual ethic that applied equally to men and women—a radical departure from Greco-Roman double standards. If Jesus established ethical principles for his kingdom that reflected God’s original creation design rather than fallen cultural conventions, then we would expect his followers to implement those principles in ways that challenged prevailing social norms. Paul’s insistence that the bodies of believers are ‘members of Christ’ and ‘temples of the Holy Spirit’ provides a theological foundation for sexual ethics that Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts would be necessary for citizens of God’s Kingdom.

Early Christian opposition to practices such as infanticide, abortion, and the sexual exploitation of children further demonstrates the predictive power of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration and establishment of a representative community. If Jesus inaugurated a kingdom that valued all human life as created in God’s image, then we would expect his followers to reject practices that devalued or exploited the most vulnerable members of society. The development of specific vocabulary to denounce these practices reflects the formation of a counter-cultural community operating according to the ethical principles of Jesus’ kingdom.

The household codes found in Colossians, Ephesians, and 1 Peter further demonstrate how Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts the formation of communities with distinctive ethical expectations for all members. By addressing each household member directly—husbands and wives, parents and children, masters and slaves—these texts recognise the moral agency of all believers regardless of social status. If Jesus truly established a representative community where all members were equally valued as kingdom citizens, then this remarkable ethical inclusivity becomes not merely explicable but expected.

The centrality of ethical transformation in early Christianity thus presents powerful evidence for the predictive capacity of Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom and establishment of a representative community. The kingdom Jesus inaugurated operated according to ethical principles that challenged prevailing cultural norms, valuing all human life and recognising the moral agency of all people regardless of social status. The representative community he established continued to emphasise these ethical principles, creating a distinctive religious identity characterised by rigorous moral expectations for all members.

Thus, Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom and establishment of a representative community demonstrates remarkable predictive power for understanding the distinctive features of early Christianity identified by Hurtado. Religious exclusivity, ethnic inclusivity, scriptural centricity, and ethical equality—features that would be highly unexpected in the ancient Roman religious landscape—find natural explanation in the claim that Jesus inaugurated God’s Kingdom, launched a new creation, and established a representative community to continue his work. The Kingdom inauguration not only accounts for these distinctive features but predicts their emergence as necessary expressions of Jesus’ kingdom vision. Without this understanding of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration, these revolutionary religious innovations remain difficult to explain; with it, they become expected outcomes of Jesus’ mission to establish God’s Kingdom on earth. The Criterion of Predictive Power thus provides a means of assessing the strong evidence for the explanatory value of Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom and establishment of a representative community in understanding the historical formation of Christianity as a distinctive religious movement.

On the whole, the KJH demonstrates remarkable explanatory power for understanding Christianity’s religious innovations that would otherwise remain historically inexplicable. If Jesus truly inaugurated God’s Kingdom and established a representative community to continue his work, we would expect precisely the religious characteristics identified by Hurtado—exclusive devotion to Jesus as king, universal scope transcending ethnic divisions, preservation of his teachings through texts, and ethical transformation applicable to all his followers. This analysis systematically refutes the Failure Objection by demonstrating that Jesus successfully established a kingdom operating through progressive cultural influence rather than apocalyptic intervention—a kingdom whose distinctive religious features have become so thoroughly normalised that they now represent the assumed position within contemporary religious consciousness.

4. Stage Two: The Inauguration of the Secular Kingdom

4.1. The Secular Aspect of the Kingdom

Stage 2 of our analysis will examine the ‘secular’ aspect of the Kingdom of God, exploring how the theological vision of Jesus’ teachings extended beyond purely religious contexts to transform broader societal structures, institutions, and cultural values. While the Kingdom was fundamentally a theological concept, its implications radically reshaped secular realms of human activity, establishing new paradigms for social organisation, ethical reasoning, and institutional development. The evidential basis of the secular aspect of this inaugurated kingdom will be focused on four distinct societal values, identified by Tom Holland (2019), which have fundamentally shaped Western civilisation and continue to influence global values and institutions even in our increasingly secular age.5 We can state these values as such

(8) (Values)

(i) Human Dignity and Universal Rights (ii) Compassion and Social Justice (iii) Rational Inquiry and Progress (iv) Individual Conscience and Institutional Separateness

We will now explicate these various values identified by Holland (2019) in more detail.

4.1.1. Compassion and Social Justice

From the time of the first century CE onwards, the concept of suffering underwent a transformation from meaningless tragedy to sacred participation in redemptive work. The martyrs of Lyon in 177 CE exemplify this development. In Roman society, which celebrated power and despised weakness, these martyrs found meaning and victory in their suffering. Blandina, a slight, frail, despised woman endured horrific tortures in the arena, where spectators saw in her broken body the One who was crucified for them (Holland 2019). The martyrs faced death with courage rooted in an awesome conviction: that their Saviour, Jesus of Christ, was by their side. Roman officials found the pretensions of martyrs so ludicrous, so utterly offensive, as to verge on the incomprehensible (Holland 2019). The letter from Lyon declared that those things reckoned by men low, invisible, and contemptible, are precisely what God ranks as deserving of great glory (Holland 2019). Blandina outshone even her social superiors through steadfastness in suffering, which put even her fellow martyrs in the shade while her mistress did not merit being named. The martyrs who failed were dismissed as flabby athletes who had failed to train, while Blandina, the lowliest, had won every bout, every contest—and thereby secured the crown (Holland 2019). The crucifixion, in the context of the Messiah Jesus, represented an inversion of ancient values. By centring faith on a humiliated, tortured criminal, followers embraced the paradox of a crucified king. When Paul insisted on preaching Christ crucified, he presented what seemed to Romans as a stumbling block to Jews, and foolishness to everyone else (Holland 2019).

This transformation of suffering led to compassionate action for the vulnerable. This understanding of human dignity was complemented by a special concern for society’s weakest and most vulnerable members. In a world that routinely, as noted previously, exposed unwanted infants and viewed the weak with contempt, figures like Macrina (sister of Basil and Gregory) would make a tour of the refuse tips to rescue abandoned baby girls, raising them as her own. This elevation of the vulnerable applied Christ’s teaching that ‘whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me’ (Holland 2019). The conviction that Christ himself was present in the weakest members of society transformed attitudes toward the poor, sick, and outcasts. Basil established in 369 CE what came to be called the Basileias, essentially the first hospital, incorporating as well as shelter for the poor, what was in effect the first hospital (Holland 2019). Basil did not himself scorn to tend the sick. Even lepers, whose deformities and suppurations rendered them objects of particular revulsion, might be welcomed by the bishop with a kiss (Holland 2019). His challenge to the wealthy—that the bread in your board belongs to the hungry; the cloak in your wardrobe to the naked; the shoes you let rot to the barefoot; the money in your vaults to the destitute—challenged ancient notions of property rights and introduced ethical obligations toward the disadvantaged. Moreover, the story of Saint Martin cutting his cloak in half for a beggar became emblematic of this value system. Martin was not from Amiens—he was not from the city where he met the beggar. This ethos of universal charity contradicted Roman urbanism, which assumed that the wealthy, if they felt a responsibility to the unfortunate at all, owed it only to those of their own city (Holland 2019).

Social justice principles extended to intimate relationships. Sexual ethics and marriage transformed in ways that profoundly shaped Western attitudes toward gender, family, and personal autonomy. The Church, over centuries, transformed marriage from a system designed primarily to cement alliances between families into a sacrament based on mutual consent. By the time of Catherine of Siena in the fourteenth century, it was established that no couple could be forced into a betrothal, nor into wedlock, nor into a physical coupling (Holland 2019). This approach was treading on the toes of patriarchs everywhere and laid the groundwork for a radical new conception of marriage: one founded on mutual attraction, on love. Sexual ethics changed by imposing the same standards of fidelity on men as on women. In contrast to Roman practices, where husbands enjoyed a legal right to divorce—and, of course, to force themselves on their inferiors—pretty much as they pleased, a new ethic insisted on mutual fidelity within marriage. The conception of marriage, mutual and indissoluble as they were, served to join man and woman together as they had never been joined before (Holland 2019). The insistence that consent, not coercion, must form the foundation of marriage became prominent. Legal systems actively protected this right, authorizing priests to join couples without the knowledge of their parents—or even their permission. This upending of patriarchal authority established a principle with profound implications: God’s authority was being identified, not with the venerable authority of a father to impose his will on his children, but with an altogether more subversive principle: freedom of choice.

These principles of compassion found powerful expression in civil rights movements. Social justice movements developed from religious moral visions. Martin Luther King Jr., a Baptist pastor, drew directly on religious principles when arguing that love could overcome racial division. King’s famous ‘Letter from Birmingham Jail’ invoked authorities from Aquinas and his own namesake, Martin Luther to argue for racial equality. King directly connected civil disobedience to Christ’s example, asking if was not Jesus an extremist for love. (Holland 2019) This framing gave the movement moral authority and transformative power. These foundations extended beyond King to the entire movement. On picket lines and marches, black protestors had sung songs from the dark days of bondage about Moses redeeming his people from slavery; and about Joshua bringing down the walls of Jericho (Holland 2019). These biblical references embodied the movement’s self-understanding. The powerful music that energised the movement emerged from black churches, where figures like James Brown had developed their style in a notably flamboyant evangelical church. The influence extended to musical innovators who drew from his style on a youthful apprenticeship spent in a notably flamboyant evangelical church (Holland 2019). This gospel tradition provided both moral language and cultural energy that powered the civil rights movement. King’s vision was not limited to tactical considerations but represented a profound moral insight: that only love could overcome hatred. King’s insistence that it is love that will save our world and our civilisation, love even for enemies reflected deep theological conviction about what Christ had meant by urging his followers to love their enemies. This understanding of redemptive love provided the movement with a vision that transcended mere political reform, aiming instead at the spiritual transformation of American society. Even after King’s assassination, the principles he championed continued to inspire movements for justice, with activists recognizing that to talk of love as Paul had talked of it, as a thing greater than prophecy, knowledge, or faith had once again become a revolutionary act.

Most of all this compassionate ethic continues to shape contemporary movements. Even in increasingly secularised Western societies, religious moral assumptions continue to shape ethical discourse. The #MeToo movement provides a striking example. Implicit in #MeToo was the same call to sexual continence that had reverberated throughout the Church’s history (Holland 2019). The campaign, which emerged in 2017 following revelations about Harvey Weinstein’s predatory behaviour, drew upon the tradition of holding the powerful accountable for sexual misconduct. When protestors donned the red cloaks of handmaids from Margaret Atwood’s dystopian novel, they were summoning men to exercise control over their lusts just as the Puritans had conducted (Holland 2019). The movement’s insistence that the human body was not an object, not a commodity to be used by the rich and powerful reflected centuries of teaching on sexual ethics. Similarly, contemporary progressive movements focused on combating racism, sexism and other forms of oppression reveal their heritage even when explicitly rejecting religious framings. The 2017 Women’s March explicitly invoked the language of liberation from oppression, with organisers seeking to invoke the authority of those who lay at the bottom of the pile (Holland 2019). This approach directly echoed Christ’s teaching that ‘the last were to be first, and the first were to be last’. Even the complex hierarchies of oppression acknowledged by modern activists—the recognition that women marching to demand equality with men always had to remember that there were many among them whose oppression was greater by far than their own—reflected a concern with identifying and elevating society’s most marginalised members. Additionally, the concept of ‘wokeness’ derives from the tradition of moral awakening and repentance. The Women’s March convention in Detroit, which offered participants the chance to acknowledge their own entitlement, to confess their sins, and to be granted absolution (Holland 2019), functioned essentially as a revival meeting. The opportunity was for the rich and the educated to have their eyes opened, in a process that paralleled traditional conversion experiences. This summons to sinners everywhere reflected enduring moral frameworks, with activists functioning as a city on a hill calling society to repentance and transformation—even when those activists explicitly rejected religious identity.

4.1.2. Human Dignity and Universal Rights

Within the cotext of ancient Roman culture, the concept of imago dei (image of God) marked a shift in conceptions of human worth. This idea presented a new foundation for human value—one based not on strength, wealth, or social status, but on intrinsic dignity. Gregory of Nyssa, in the fourth century, declared human nature as constituted by its Creator as something free. According to Gregory, human beings possessed such dignity that they were literally beyond price—not all of the universe would constitute an adequate payment for the soul of a mortal. This assertion emerged in a world that routinely assigned monetary value to human lives through slavery. The concept challenged the ancient world’s hierarchical understanding of human worth. Gregory insisted that to set one’s own power above God’s and trampling on a dignity that was properly the right of every man and woman (Holland 2019). In the Greco-Roman world, human value was determined by physical strength, beauty, intellectual capacity, and social position—a framework that justified the subjugation of those deemed inferior. The alternative conception recognised divine presence within even the most defenceless newborn child, establishing a foundation for human rights that transcended social distinctions. Gregory’s brother Basil struggled with the implications, wondering how those of inferior intelligence and capabilities [were] to survive, if not as slaves, demonstrating the tension between this vision of human dignity and the practical realities of ancient society.

This notion of dignity grew alongside a universalist outlook. Paul of Tarsus articulated a vision that broke down the tribal barriers of the ancient world. When he declared in his letter to the Galatians, ‘There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus’, he challenged ancient social hierarchies. Paul, once a zealous Pharisee, experienced a vision that transformed his understanding of God’s relationship with humanity. This led him to proclaim that the exclusive covenant between God and the Jews had been transcended. His message across the Mediterranean was that Gentiles could be included in God’s promises without adopting Jewish practices like circumcision. Paul crossed cultural boundaries and announced that Jews and Greeks, Galatians and Scythians: all alike, so long as they opened themselves to belief in Jesus Christ, were henceforward God’s holy people. When confronted with Judaizing teachers who wanted Christians to maintain Jewish customs, Paul rejected this, insisting that the only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love (Holland 2019). In Corinth, a cosmopolitan port city, Paul’s community included Jews and non-Jews, rich and poor, some with Roman names and some with Greek—a mixing of peoples that defied ancient social convention.

The recognition of universal human dignity eventually developed into formal rights. Following the separation of church and state, the concept of a universal law emerged that applied equally to all humans regardless of status. In the wake of Gregory VII’s reforms, an entirely new legal framework developed through the work of figures like Gratian, whose Decretum, completed around 1150, codified canon law. Gratian’s insight, drawn from Paul, was that the entire law is summed up in a single command: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself’ (Holland 2019). This principle became the foundation for a legal system aimed at securing equal justice for all—regardless of status, wealth, or lineage. This legal development challenged ancient assumptions about social hierarchy. Canon lawyers argued that a starving pauper who stole from a rich man did so iure naturali, ‘in accordance with natural law’, revealing how legal thinking created the concept of entitlement based on human need. By the thirteenth century, theologians were articulating the concept that the poor had an entitlement to the necessities of life and that this constituted a human right (Holland 2019). This legal innovation led to an innovative programme of international law that would shape Western conceptions of justice for centuries.

Furthermore, these principles found powerful expression in movements against slavery. The abolitionist movements of the 18th and 19th centuries emerged from a developing stance against slavery. Benjamin Lay, a devout Quaker born in 1741, challenged entrenched social evils. Lay’s outrage at slavery was rooted in his faith. When confronted with the horrific spectacle of a naked African suspended outside a Quaker’s house in Barbados, bleeding from a savage whipping, Lay’s reaction was shaped by his religious convictions. ‘My Heart has been pained within me many times, to see and hear’, he would later write (Holland 2019). Lay framed his anti-slavery campaign in religious terms, insisting that to trade in slaves, to separate them from their children, to whip and exploit them, was not to be a Christian, but to be worse than the Devil himself (Holland 2019). The abolitionist movement achieved remarkable success. In a startlingly brief historical period, a practice that only a century earlier, had been taken almost universally for granted was redefined as evidence of savagery and backwardness. In 1807, the British parliament passed the Act for the Abolition of the Slave Trade despite the nation being in the midst of a deadly struggle for survival against Napoleon (Holland 2019). By 1814, Lord Castlereagh, facing uncomprehending foreign princes at the negotiating table, successfully established a principle in international law: that slavery was repugnant to the principles of humanity and universal morality (Holland 2019). This reversal in moral attitudes was propelled by a conviction that reached back to Benjamin Lay’s Philadelphia: that all humans, regardless of race, were created in God’s image and possessed inherent dignity. Abolitionist campaigns drew on religious language and imagery. The abolitionists greeted their victory in rapturously biblical terms. It was the rainbow seen by Noah over the floodwaters; it was the passage of the Israelites through the Red Sea; it was the breaking of the Risen Christ from his tomb (Holland 2019). This religious framing was fundamental to the movement’s self-understanding. Their certainty gave abolitionists the conviction to persevere despite powerful economic and political interests arrayed against them. ‘Amazing Grace indeed’ (Holland 2019).

Universal rights discourse continued to evolve into a secular language. Modern human rights discourse, despite its often secular presentation, derives from earlier non-secular moral frameworks. By the early 19th century, British naval power was being deployed to enforce a new moral consensus against the slave trade. When an American diplomat in 1842 defined the slave trade as a crime against humanity, he was using language calculated to be acceptable to lawyers of all Christian denominations—and none (Holland 2019). This universalizing of moral principles through seemingly neutral language would become the template for human rights discourse. This strategy proved effective in spreading Western values beyond their original contexts: A crusade, it turned out, might be more effective for keeping the cross well out of sight. The transformation of Islamic legal attitudes provides an example of indirect influence. In 1842, when British diplomats pressed Morocco to ban the slave trade, the sultan responded that slavery was a matter on which all sects and nations had agreed from the time of Adam. Yet within decades, Ottoman reformers were arguing that the Qur’an, if it were only to be read in the correct light, actually condemned slavery. This remarkable shift in interpretation represented the infiltration of profoundly Christian assumptions about the proper functioning of law into Islamic jurisprudence. By 1863, the mayor of Tunis was writing to the American consul-general, citing justifications drawn from Islamic scripture for its abolition (Holland 2019). This transformation shows how moral principles could reshape the legal traditions of other cultures through the seemingly neutral language of universal rights.

4.1.3. Rational Inquiry, Enlightenment and Progress

From the period of the latter half of the first millennium, a revolutionary conception of time emerged that enabled progressive thinking. The Anglo-Saxon missionaries who ventured into Germanic lands, particularly Boniface, embodied a mindset that contrasted with prevailing pagan attitudes. While the vast majority of humanity throughout history had taken for granted that novelty was to be mistrusted, a new concept emerged that change—especially moral and spiritual transformation—was to be embraced. Boniface, by chopping down Thunor’s oak in 722 and building a church from its timber, demonstrated power to overthrow the past in favour of a new moral order. This symbolised how the past could be viewed not as sacred but as something to be transcended through conversion. This extended to the very conception of time itself. In the wake of Boniface’s work, missionaries began to calculate dates in Bede’s manner: anno Domini, in the year of their Lord (Holland 2019). This seemingly simple innovation represented a reconceptualisation of history—now the world had a clear turning point, with time itself measured from Christ’s incarnation. The pre-Christian past became defined merely as the beginnings of things (Holland 2019). Old religious symbols were reinterpreted, transforming hell, the pagan underworld, into the place of divine punishment, and the spring festival of Eostre into the celebration of Christ’s resurrection. These were not compromises but victories, demonstrating that the victory of the new was adorned with the trophies of the old.

This new approach to time found institutional expression in centres of learning. The intellectual development of the medieval period, particularly through the establishment of universities, created the groundwork for systematic inquiry that would later enable scientific advancement. Scholars like Peter Abelard pioneered an approach to learning that valued rational investigation while remaining rooted in faith. Abelard’s maxim By doubting we come to inquiry, and by inquiry, we perceive the truth exemplified this approach. Though Abelard himself was temporarily condemned for heresy, his method ultimately triumphed, becoming institutionalised in the universities of Paris and Oxford by the early thirteenth century. Thomas Aquinas demonstrated how faith could be reconciled with reason, particularly through the integration of Aristotelian philosophy. When Aquinas declared that it is by God’s laws that the whole scheme of things is governed, he articulated a view that the universe operated according to rational principles that humans could discover. The conviction that God had created an orderly cosmos governed by discoverable laws became the foundation for Western scientific thinking. The universities established fields like natural philosophy that sought to understand the workings of animals, plants, astronomy, and mathematics as reflections of divine order. The truest miracle was not the miraculous, but the opposite: the ordered running of heaven and earth (Holland 2019).

These intellectual foundations matured into scientific rationalism. The emphasis on rational inquiry laid the foundation for modern scientific understanding. Modern science emerged not in opposition to faith but as an extension of core convictions about the intelligibility of the universe. The Jesuit mathematicians and astronomers who established themselves in Beijing in the early seventeenth century exemplified this foundation of scientific inquiry. Johann Schreck and his colleagues brought with them the conviction that God’s purposes were revealed through the free and untrammelled study of natural philosophy (Holland 2019). Their achievements in astronomy—predicting eclipses with greater accuracy than Chinese scholars—demonstrated how their worldview enabled scientific advancement. The case of Galileo reveals the complex relationship between science and faith. Galileo himself was a man as impatient for fame as he was derisive of anyone who presumed to obstruct him, yet he remained no Luther but rather a devout Catholic hoping to persuade Church authorities. The controversy over heliocentrism was less about suppressing scientific inquiry than about demanding empirical evidence before overturning established understandings. Cardinal Bellarmino’s challenge to Galileo—But I will not believe that there is such a demonstration, until it is shown me —reflected not anti-scientific sentiment but an insistence on rigorous proof. Even amid these controversies, natural philosophers knew better. They knew themselves, as Christians, bonded together in a single, common endeavour that transcended Catholic–Protestant divides. Galileo’s vision that minds more piercing than mine shall penetrate to recesses still deeper pointed toward a future of continued scientific advancement.

These developments formed the groundwork for Enlightenment thinking. While often portrayed as a secular rejection of religious authority, the Enlightenment’s foundations were embedded in prior Christian intellectual developments. The Protestant Reformation, particularly through its challenge to centralised religious authority, helped establish principles that would later flourish in Enlightenment thinking. The concept that individual conscience could stand against institutional power was exemplified when Luther declared my conscience is captive to the Word of God, establishing a precedent for autonomous moral judgment that would influence later thinkers. The clearing of superstition laid the groundwork for rational inquiry that would characterise the Enlightenment. Moreover Puritans saw themselves as combating ignorance, noting that as the mist began to clear up, stories of wonders and marvels grew to be esteemed but as old wives’ fables, impostures of the clergy, illusions of spirits, and badges of Antichrist (Holland 2019). This rationalism sought to better understand God’s design through rational investigation of the natural world. If God was to be found in the interior experience of individual believers, then so also could he be apprehended in the immensity and complexity of the cosmos (Holland 2019). This conviction that the universe was rationally ordered and comprehensible to human reason would become a cornerstone of Enlightenment thought. The universities established with their commitment to systematic inquiry and rational investigation provided the institutional framework where Enlightenment ideas would later flourish. Scholars communicating across theological divides—Protestant and Catholic scholars sharing astronomical data between European observatories and missionary outposts in China—demonstrated how the international republic of letters that would characterise the Enlightenment was prefigured within intellectual networks. Their shared conviction that the cosmos operated according to discoverable laws established the fundamental premise upon which Enlightenment science would build.

4.1.4. Individual Conscience and Institutional Separation

At the start of the second millenimium, a revolutionary distinction between religious and secular authority emerged. The establishment of a fundamental distinction between religious and secular authority emerged as an enduring legacy. Pope Gregory VII’s program of reformation in the eleventh century deliberately separated the Church from worldly powers. This division, formalised in Gregory’s battles against Emperor Henry IV, established two parallel dimensions of authority where previously there had been only one. When Henry stood barefoot in the snow at Canossa in 1077, awaiting papal absolution, it represented a reversal of ancient assumptions about power. The King of Rome, rather than being honoured as a universal monarch, had been treated instead as merely a human being—a creature moulded out of clay (Holland 2019). This separation of church and state transformed Western conceptions of freedom and authority. Following Gregory’s reforms, liberty (libertas) became an electrifying slogan of ecclesiastical reformers. The abbots of Cluny, exemplifying this principle through their direct accountability to the papacy rather than local lords, demonstrated how institutional independence could be established in the face of feudal power. When Urban II declared that those who joined the First Crusade would have their journey reckoned in place of all penance, he established a formula that linked personal freedom to religious devotion. This innovation, reverberating down the centuries, would come to shake many a monarchy, and prompt many a visionary to dream that society might be born anew (Holland 2019). The concept of revolution, with its sense of sweeping moral renewal, had been given form.

The separation of institutions was complemented by the elevation of individual conscience. The emphasis on freedom of choice found fullest expression during the Reformation period with the affirmation of individual conscience as the ultimate moral authority. Martin Luther, when confronted by Cardinal Cajetan to recant his teachings, made the appeal to the testimony of my conscience (Holland 2019). This assertion elevated individual moral judgment above institutional authority. Luther’s declaration at Worms in 1521 that his conscience is captive to the Word of God. And that he cannot and will not retract anything, since it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience—represents a pivotal moment in Western conceptions of individual moral autonomy. This principle of conscience extended beyond Luther, giving birth to a proliferation of Protestant movements. When the Puritan settlers of New England declared And the covenant between you and us is the oath you have taken of us, they articulated a social vision based on mutual consent rather than hereditary authority. John Winthrop’s declaration that the Massachusetts Bay Colony had entered into a covenant with him [God] for this work exemplified how covenant relationships had transformed political thought. Liberty, in this conception, was the freedom to submit to this covenant: to be joined in a society of the godly that was hedged about by grace (Holland 2019).

These developments eventually produced modern secular governance. This is that, secularism itself emerged from earlier religious concepts rather than as a break with religious tradition. The very word came trailing incense clouds of meaning that were irrevocably and venerably Christian (Holland 2019). That is, the concept traces to distinctions first articulated by Church fathers like Gregory VII, Augustine, and Columbanus, who established the crucial distinction between the sacred and the temporal. The Latin concept of the laicus—the people of God—evolved into laïcité in French, which by 1842 had come to signify both a similar concept to ‘secularism’, and a similar pedigree (Holland 2019). This played out in the 20th/21st century in seemingly anti-religious contexts like the French satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo. While proudly declaring itself laïc, joyful and atheist, the publication was unwittingly continuing a tradition of iconoclasm that reached back to the Reformation, when revellers had exulted in their desecration of idols: ducking a statue of the Virgin in a river as a witch, pinning asses’ ears to an image of St Francis. The magazine’s stance was not a repudiation of historical tradition but its very essence (Holland 2019). When its editor vowed that mockery would continue until Islam has been rendered as banal as Catholicism, he was demanding that Muslims undergo the same transformative process that Christianity had experienced—a thoroughly religious demand. To be secular was not to have left Christianity behind, but to have accepted its most profound revolution (Holland 2019).

All things considered, Christianity introduced revolutionary societal values that fundamentally transformed Western civilisation: the concept of universal human dignity grounded in the imago dei, compassion for the vulnerable emerging from Christ’s identification with suffering, rational inquiry based on the intelligibility of creation, the origination of Enlightenment thought and institutional separation stemming from Jesus’ distinction between divine and human authority. As documented by Holland, these distinctive values gradually evolved from explicitly Christian contexts to seemingly secular frameworks, eventually becoming so thoroughly integrated into Western consciousness that they now appear self-evident even to those who reject their theological foundations, demonstrating Christianity’s profound and enduring influence on how society conceives of human worth, justice, knowledge, and governance.

4.2. Evidential Analysis of the Secular Aspect of the Kingdom

The evidential aspect of Stage 2 of our analysis will now focus on evaluating the KJH against the historical data explicated in the previous sub-section, in light of the results of Stage 1 which established the distinct religious traits that emerged from early Christianity, and is now assumed as background data. The religious framework outlined in the previous section provides essential background for understanding how these innovations fundamentally reshaped human civilisation. We can state the background and sub-hypothesis of the KJH (focused on the inauguration of the kingdom) succinctly as follows:

(9) (Background2)

(i) Second Temple Judaism understood Israel as God’s covenant people chosen to restore creation despite humanity’s fall, serving as ‘royal stewards’ over creation while experiencing exile due to covenant unfaithfulness, yet awaiting divine intervention through a promised Messiah who would end their exile, restore God’s presence to Zion, and guide humanity into its true vocation as God’s image-bearers. (ii) Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom on earth established fundamental religious elements that would become normative across world civilisations, including religious exclusivity, ethnic inclusivity, scriptural centricity, and ethical equality, transforming how humanity understands and practices religion from the Roman era to the present day.

The KJH—specifically, that Jesus inaugurated God’s Kingdom on earth and established a representative community to continue this work—demonstrates remarkable predictive power when applied to the analysis of Christianity’s foundational influence on Western values. If Jesus truly inaugurated God’s Kingdom on earth, launched a new creation, and established a representative community to continue this work, then we would expect to see precisely the kind of transformative moral developments that history documents across time. Applying the Criterion of Predictive Power, we can examine how the KJH explains the emergence of these revolutionary Western values that would otherwise remain unexpected within their historical contexts. We will now explain this in further detail.

4.2.1. The King Jesus Hypothesis and Compassion and Social Justice

The roots of Western compassion can be traced to a transformation in the meaning of suffering itself. Beginning with the earliest historical period (30 s–600 s), Jesus’ inauguration of the Kingdom of God provides a compelling framework for understanding the ‘sacralization of the victim’. In the ancient world, suffering was universally viewed as shameful and power was celebrated—a value system that would naturally persist unless dramatically disrupted. The Kingdom inauguration thesis predicts precisely such a disruption through Jesus’ paradoxical kingship. If Jesus truly established his kingdom through suffering and death on a cross—the most shameful form of execution in the Roman world—then we would expect his followers to develop a radically different understanding of suffering and weakness. The martyrs of Lyon in 177 CE, particularly Blandina who found dignity and victory in her suffering, demonstrate exactly what this framework predicts: a community that has inverted conventional values by seeing Christ’s presence in suffering.

Without the perspective of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration, the emergence of a community that celebrated weakness and found meaning in suffering would be historically inexplicable. Roman officials found the martyrs’ attitude ‘so ludicrous, so utterly offensive, as to verge on the incomprehensible’ precisely because it contradicted all conventional wisdom about power and dignity. Yet the Kingdom inauguration framework predicts exactly this value inversion. Jesus’ teaching that ‘whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it’ (Matthew 16:25) established a kingdom principle that suffering for the king had redemptive value. His own kingship, paradoxically established through crucifixion, provided the paradigm for his followers. The ‘scandal of the cross’ that Paul emphasised becomes not merely a theological abstraction but the operating principle for an entire community’s attitude toward suffering. Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration thus explains why early Christians developed ‘the paradox of a crucified king’—a concept that would have been utterly unexpected in the ancient world without Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration through suffering.

This revolutionary understanding of suffering did not remain abstract but manifested in practical compassion for the vulnerable. Christianity’s special concern for society’s weakest members further demonstrates the predictive power of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration. In a world that routinely exposed unwanted infants and viewed the weak with contempt, the emergence of a community devoted to rescuing abandoned children and caring for the sick would be highly unexpected. Yet this framework, again, predicts precisely this development. If Jesus established a kingdom where the last would be first and the weak would be valued, then his followers would naturally implement practices that cared for society’s most vulnerable members. Macrina’s practice of rescuing abandoned baby girls from refuse tips directly reflects Jesus’ teaching that ‘whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me’ (Matthew 25:40).

The Christian invention of institutional charity through Basil’s establishment of the first hospital finds a natural explanation in Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration. If Jesus inaugurated a kingdom characterised by compassion and commanded his followers to care for the suffering, then we would expect his representative community to develop innovative institutional expressions of this care. Basil’s personal tending of lepers—society’s most shunned outcasts—exemplifies the prediction that Jesus’ followers would implement his kingdom values in revolutionary ways. His challenge to the wealthy that ‘The bread in your board belongs to the hungry’ directly reflects Jesus’ kingdom teaching about wealth and responsibility to the poor. Without this Kingdom inauguration perspective, these revolutionary practices of care for the vulnerable would be difficult to explain in a social context that valued strength and despised weakness. With it, they become expected expressions of the kingdom Jesus inaugurated.

These principles of compassion extended beyond public charity to transform the most intimate human relationships. Christianity’s transformation of marriage and family similarly demonstrates the predictive power of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration. The establishment of marriage as a sacrament based on mutual consent rather than a system for cementing family alliances would be highly unexpected in patriarchal societies. Yet this framework predicts precisely this development. If Jesus inaugurated a kingdom where relationships were governed by love rather than power, then we would expect his representative community to transform marriage accordingly. Jesus’ teaching on the sacredness of marriage (Matthew 19:6) and Paul’s instruction that husbands should love their wives ‘just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her’ (Ephesians 5:25) established kingdom principles that revolutionised marital relationships.

The claim of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration explains why Christianity insisted on mutual fidelity within marriage, applying the same standards to men as to women—a radical departure from Roman double standards. When the Church established that ‘no couple could be forced into a betrothal, nor into wedlock, nor into a physical coupling’, it was implementing Jesus’ kingdom principle of love rather than coercion as the basis for relationships. Without this Kingdom perspective, Christianity’s revolutionary approach to marriage would be difficult to explain in patriarchal contexts. With it, the emphasis on consent and mutual love becomes an expected expression of kingdom values.

In more recent history, these principles of compassion and justice found powerful expression in social movements seeking freedom for the oppressed. The civil rights movement provides another powerful demonstration of the predictive power contained in Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration. Martin Luther King Jr’s insistence that love could overcome racial division would be unexpected in a context of entrenched segregation. Yet this framework predicts precisely this moral vision. If Jesus established a kingdom based on love and human dignity, then we would expect his representative community to challenge systems of racial oppression. King’s explicit connection of civil disobedience to Christ’s example, asking ‘Was not Jesus an extremist for love?’ reflects the direct implementation of Jesus’ kingdom ethics in the struggle for racial justice.

The understanding of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration explains why the civil rights movement drew so deeply on biblical imagery and Christian musical traditions. When protestors sang ‘about Moses redeeming his people from slavery; about Joshua bringing down the walls of Jericho’, they were placing their struggle within the narrative of God’s Kingdom advancing against oppression. King’s insistence that ‘it is love that will save our world and our civilisation, love even for enemies’ directly reflected Jesus’ revolutionary teaching about loving enemies. Without the Kingdom inauguration framework, it becomes difficult to explain why a movement challenging racial injustice would adopt nonviolent love as its central principle. With it, this approach becomes the expected implementation of Jesus’ kingdom ethics in the struggle against oppression.

Even in our contemporary context, this ethic of compassion continues to shape social movements in unexpected ways. Even contemporary progressive movements like #MeToo demonstrate the continuing explanatory power of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration. Historical analysis reveals that ‘implicit in #MeToo was the same call to sexual continence that had reverberated throughout the Church’s history’. This is precisely what the Kingdom framework predicts—that Jesus’ kingdom ethics regarding sexual responsibility and the dignity of the vulnerable would continue to shape moral discourse even in secularised contexts. The movement’s insistence that ‘the human body was not an object, not a commodity to be used by the rich and powerful’ reflected centuries of Christian teaching on sexual ethics that ultimately derived from Jesus’ kingdom values.

The thesis of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration similarly explains why contemporary progressive movements focused on combating oppression reveal their Christian heritage even when explicitly rejecting religious framings. The 2017 Women’s March invoked ‘the authority of those who lay at the bottom of the pile’—directly echoing Christ’s teaching that ‘the last were to be first, and the first were to be last’. The concept of ‘wokeness’ itself, with its emphasis on moral awakening and repentance, derives from the Christian tradition of conversion and transformation. The Women’s March convention in Detroit, offering participants the chance ‘to acknowledge their own entitlement, to confess their sins and to be granted absolution’, functioned essentially as a revival meeting. Without the perspective of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration, it becomes difficult to explain why contemporary moral movements would adopt this structure of confession, repentance, and transformation. With it, these movements become the expected continuation of Jesus’ kingdom ethics in contemporary moral discourse.

4.2.2. The King Jesus Hypothesis and Human Dignity and Universal Rights

Jesus’ inauguration of the Kingdom of God provides a compelling framework for understanding Christianity’s radical redefinition of human dignity and freedom. Gregory of Nyssa’s extraordinary condemnation of slavery in the fourth century—defining human nature as ‘constituted by its Creator as something free’—would be utterly unexpected in a world that took slavery for granted. Yet this Kingdom framework predicts precisely this development. If Jesus inaugurated a kingdom where all humans were equally valued as bearers of God’s image and potential citizens of his kingdom, then the emergence of revolutionary ideas about human dignity would be a natural consequence of this kingdom’s expansion. Jesus’ teaching that even ‘the least of these’ represented his own presence (Matthew 25:40) established a kingdom principle that recognised inherent dignity in all humans regardless of status.

Gregory’s insistence that to own slaves was ‘to set one’s own power above God’s’ and ‘to trample on a dignity that was properly the right of every man and woman’ reflects the logical extension of Jesus’ kingdom ethics. Without this Kingdom inauguration perspective, it becomes difficult to explain why a Christian theologian would develop such a radical view of human dignity in a social context where slavery was universally accepted. Yet if Jesus truly inaugurated a kingdom based on love and human dignity, Gregory’s revolutionary position becomes an expected, if advanced, application of kingdom principles. The claim that Jesus inaugurated God’s Kingdom thus provides explanatory power for understanding why Christians like Gregory and Basil recognised ‘within even the most defenceless newborn child… a touch of the divine’—a perspective that broke decisively from Greco-Roman values measuring worth by strength, beauty, and power.

This revolutionary understanding of human dignity naturally gave rise to a new vision of a universal human community. The postulation of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts the revolutionary universalism that Paul articulated. In an ancient world structured around tribal and ethnic divisions, the emergence of a community claiming universal scope would be highly unexpected. Yet if Jesus truly inaugurated a kingdom that fulfilled Israel’s vocation as a light to all nations, then, as noted previously, the development of a trans-ethnic community claiming universal scope becomes not merely explicable but expected. Paul’s declaration that ‘There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus’ (Galatians 3:28) directly reflects the universal nature of Jesus’ kingdom. This understanding predicts that Jesus’ followers would develop precisely this universalising vision, dismantling ethnic and social barriers as they implemented the kingdom principles he established.

The revolutionary message that Gentiles could be included in God’s promises without adopting Jewish practices like circumcision makes perfect sense if Jesus inaugurated a kingdom that fulfilled Israel’s covenant while extending its blessings to all nations. Without the Kingdom inauguration framework, Paul’s universalising mission across the Mediterranean would be difficult to explain—why would a devout Pharisee suddenly proclaim a message that contradicted his lifelong religious commitments? But if Jesus truly established himself as the universal king who fulfilled Israel’s story and launched a new creation, then Paul’s missionary vision becomes the expected implementation of Jesus’ kingdom programme. The Kingdom inauguration thesis thus provides explanatory power for understanding the remarkably diverse churches that emerged throughout the Roman world, incorporating ‘Jews and non-Jews, rich and poor, some with Roman names and some with Greek’—a social mixing that defied ancient conventions.

As these principles of human dignity and universalism developed over time, they eventually became formalised in revolutionary legal concepts. The birth of human rights provides another powerful demonstration of the predictive power contained in Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration. The development of a universal law that applies equally to all humans regardless of status would be highly unexpected in a world structured around rigid social hierarchies. Yet this claim predicts precisely this development. If Jesus established ethical principles for his kingdom that valued all humans equally as potential citizens, then we would expect his representative community to develop legal frameworks that recognised universal human dignity. Gratian’s revolutionary insight that ‘the entire law is summed up in a single command: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself’‘ directly reflects Jesus’ kingdom ethic. The development of canon law principles stating that ‘a starving pauper who stole from a rich man did so iure naturali—‘in accordance with natural law’‘ reflects the implementation of Jesus’ teaching that human need takes precedence over property rights.

Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration explains why Christian legal thinking created the revolutionary concept of entitlement based on human need, establishing that ‘the poor had an entitlement to the necessities of life’ and that this constituted a human ‘right’. Without this Kingdom perspective, this fundamental break from ancient legal traditions would be difficult to explain. With it, the development of universal human rights becomes an expected consequence of Jesus’ kingdom ethic being systematically applied to legal questions by his representative community.

These principles of human dignity and universal rights found their fullest historical expression in the struggle against slavery. The abolitionist movement’s success in outlawing slavery would be highly unexpected given the economic interests supporting the institution. Yet the Kingdom inauguration framework predicts precisely this moral revolution. If Jesus established a kingdom based on human dignity and launched a new creation where all humans were equally valued, then the eventual rejection of slavery becomes an expected outcome of his kingdom’s expansion. William Wilberforce and other Christian abolitionists explicitly framed their campaign in biblical terms, seeing their work as the implementation of Jesus’ kingdom ethics in the social order.

Historical records show how abolitionist campaigns drew explicitly on Christian language and imagery, greeting their victory ‘in rapturously biblical terms’. This is exactly what the thesis of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts—the representative community Jesus established would continue to implement his kingdom ethics in increasingly comprehensive ways, challenging social evils that contradict human dignity. Without this understanding of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration, it becomes difficult to explain why Western societies would suddenly reject a practice that ‘only a century earlier, had been taken almost universally for granted’. With it, abolition becomes the expected outcome of Jesus’ kingdom ethics being faithfully applied to social questions.

Perhaps most remarkably, these kingdom values eventually transcended explicitly Christian contexts through the universalisation of rights discourse. The universalisation of rights discourse, even in seemingly secular contexts, further demonstrates the explanatory power of the Kingdom inauguration framework. Historical analysis shows how Christian moral principles spread beyond explicitly Christian contexts through the seemingly neutral language of universal rights. When an American diplomat in 1842 defined the slave trade as a ‘crime against humanity’, he was using language ‘calculated to be acceptable to lawyers of all Christian denominations—and none’. This universalising strategy is precisely what the postulation of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts. If Jesus established a kingdom with universal ethical principles, then we would expect his representative community to develop ways of expressing those principles that could gain acceptance beyond explicitly Christian contexts.

The remarkable transformation of Islamic legal attitudes toward slavery provides striking evidence for the predictive power of the Kingdom inauguration framework. Historical records document how Ottoman reformers began arguing that the Qur’an ‘if it were only to be read in the correct light’ actually condemned slavery—a remarkable shift in interpretation that represented the infiltration of ‘profoundly Christian assumptions about the proper functioning of law’ into Islamic jurisprudence. This is exactly what we would expect if Jesus truly inaugurated a kingdom whose ethical principles would gradually transform even non-Christian cultures. The understanding of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration thus explains why Christian moral principles could reshape the legal traditions of other cultures through the seemingly neutral language of universal rights.

4.2.3. The King Jesus Hypothesis and Rational Inquiry, Enlightenment and Progress

Jesus’ inauguration of the Kingdom of God also helps explain Western civilisation’s distinctive understanding of time and history. Moving to the concept of progress and linear time, the claim of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration continues to demonstrate predictive power for understanding Christianity’s radical approach to time, tradition, and change. The concept of progress and linear time represents a fundamental break from ancient cyclical conceptions of history. The historical record shows how Boniface’s chopping down of Thunor’s oak in 722 demonstrated Christianity’s power to overthrow the past in favour of a new moral order. The Kingdom inauguration framework predicts precisely this revolutionary attitude toward time and tradition. If Jesus truly inaugurated God’s Kingdom and launched a new creation that was progressively unfolding in history, then his followers would naturally develop a linear conception of time with Jesus’ incarnation as the decisive turning point. The calculation of dates ‘anno Domini’ reflects the belief that Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration marked a fundamental break in history, with time itself now measured in relation to his arrival.

The postulation of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts that Jesus’ followers would view history as a meaningful progression toward the full realisation of his kingdom rather than an endless cycle of repetition. Jesus’ parables about the kingdom growing like a mustard seed or spreading like leaven (Matthew 13:31–33) established a vision of progressive kingdom expansion that directly contradicted ancient cyclical views of time. Without this Kingdom perspective, the emergence of a linear, progressive conception of history would be difficult to explain. With it, this revolutionary approach to time becomes an expected consequence of belief in Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration and the ongoing work of bringing the new creation to fuller realisation.

This new understanding of time and progress found concrete expression in unprecedented institutions devoted to rational inquiry. The establishment of universities and the foundations of scientific inquiry further demonstrate the explanatory power of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration. The emergence of systematic rational inquiry into the natural world would be unexpected in ancient religious contexts. Yet this framework predicts precisely this development. If Jesus inaugurated a kingdom based on truth and established a representative community tasked with understanding and implementing that truth, then we would expect his followers to develop intellectual frameworks for pursuing knowledge systematically. Peter Abelard’s maxim ‘By doubting we come to inquiry, and by inquiry, we perceive the truth’ reflects the implementation of Jesus’ teaching that ‘the truth will set you free’ (John 8:32).

The claim of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts that Jesus’ followers would view the created order as a reflection of God’s wisdom, worthy of systematic study. Thomas Aquinas’s declaration that ‘It is by God’s laws that the whole scheme of things is governed’ reflects the belief that Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration established a rational cosmic order that humans could discover through careful investigation. Without this Kingdom perspective, the Christian foundation of scientific inquiry would be difficult to explain. With it, the development of ‘natural philosophy’ becomes an expected consequence of belief in a universe created and sustained by the God whose kingdom Jesus inaugurated.

These intellectual foundations matured over time into a distinctive approach to scientific rationalism that transformed human understanding of the natural world. The emphasis on rational inquiry laid the foundation for modern scientific understanding. Modern science emerged not in opposition to faith but as an extension of core convictions about the intelligibility of the universe. The Jesuit mathematicians and astronomers who established themselves in Beijing in the early seventeenth century exemplified this foundation of scientific inquiry. Johann Schreck and his colleagues brought with them the conviction that ‘God’s purposes were revealed through the free and untrammelled study of natural philosophy’. Their achievements in astronomy—predicting eclipses with greater accuracy than Chinese scholars—demonstrated how their worldview enabled scientific advancement.

The controversy over heliocentrism was less about suppressing scientific inquiry than about demanding empirical evidence before overturning established understandings. Cardinal Bellarmino’s challenge to Galileo—’But I will not believe that there is such a demonstration, until it is shown me’—reflected not anti-scientific sentiment but an insistence on rigorous proof. Without Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration perspective, it would be difficult to explain why Christian institutions would develop such a commitment to empirical investigation. With it, this emphasis on verifying truth claims becomes an expected expression of Jesus’ kingdom value of truth.

These scientific developments eventually gave rise to broader intellectual movements that shaped modern Western thought. The Enlightenment, while often portrayed as a secular rejection of religious authority, had its foundations embedded in prior Christian intellectual developments. The Protestant Reformation, particularly through its challenge to centralised religious authority, helped establish principles that would later flourish in Enlightenment thinking. The concept that individual conscience could stand against institutional power was exemplified when Luther declared ‘My conscience is captive to the Word of God’, establishing a precedent for autonomous moral judgment that would influence later thinkers.

The clearing of superstition laid the groundwork for rational inquiry that would characterise the Enlightenment. Puritans saw themselves as combating ignorance, noting that as ‘the mist began to clear up’, stories of wonders and marvels ‘grew to be esteemed but as old wives’ fables, impostures of the clergy, illusions of spirits, and badges of Antichrist’. This rationalism sought to better understand God’s design through rational investigation of the natural world. ‘If God was to be found in the interior experience of individual believers, then so also could he be apprehended in the immensity and complexity of the cosmos’. This conviction that the universe was rationally ordered and comprehensible to human reason would become a cornerstone of Enlightenment thought. The thesis of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration explains why these intellectual developments emerged from Christian contexts—they represented the expected outcome of Jesus’ kingdom value of truth being systematically applied.

4.2.4. The King Jesus Hypothesis and Individual Conscience and Institutional Separation

Jesus’ inauguration of the Kingdom of God also illuminates Western civilisation’s distinctive political arrangements. This framework provides explanatory power for understanding the emergence of a fundamental distinction between religious and secular authority. Pope Gregory VII’s revolutionary programme of ‘reformatio’ in the eleventh century, establishing a separation between church and state, would be highly unexpected in a world where religious and political authority had always been unified. Yet the Kingdom inauguration thesis predicts precisely this development. Jesus’ teaching to ‘Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s’ (Mark 12:17) established a principled distinction between political and religious spheres that would have revolutionary implications when implemented by his representative community.

The postulation of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration predicts that Jesus’ followers would develop institutional expressions of this church-state distinction as they sought to advance his kingdom without compromising its distinctive nature. Gregory VII’s insistence on the church’s independence from imperial control reflects the logical extension of Jesus’ kingdom principles. When Emperor Henry IV stood barefoot in the snow at Canossa awaiting papal absolution, it represented the concrete implementation of Jesus’ teaching that even emperors were subject to God’s moral authority. Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration thus explains why Christianity, unlike other religions, developed a persistent institutional distinction between religious and political authority—a distinction that would eventually give birth to modern concepts of religious freedom and limited government.

This institutional separation was complemented by a revolutionary emphasis on individual moral autonomy. The Reformation’s radical affirmation of individual conscience similarly demonstrates the explanatory power of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration. Luther’s declaration at Worms that ‘My conscience is captive to the Word of God’ would be highly unexpected in a medieval context of institutional religious authority. Yet this framework predicts precisely this development. If Jesus established his kingdom through personal allegiance rather than institutional conformity, then the elevation of individual conscience as the ultimate moral authority becomes a logical extension of his kingdom principles. Jesus’ teaching that it was not external conformity but the condition of the heart that ultimately mattered (Matthew 15:8–9) established a kingdom principle that would eventually flower in the Reformation’s emphasis on individual faith and conscience.

Perhaps most surprisingly, these principles of institutional separation and individual conscience eventually gave rise to modern secular governance. The Christian roots of secularism itself further demonstrate the explanatory power of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration. Historical evidence indicates that secularism ‘came trailing incense clouds of meaning that were irrevocably and venerably Christian’. If Jesus established a kingdom that operated according to distinctive principles while engaging with worldly powers, then we would expect his representative community to develop sophisticated distinctions between sacred and secular spheres. The Latin concept of the laicus—the people of God—evolved into laïcité in French, which came to signify a similar concept to ‘secularism’ yet retained its Christian pedigree.

The understanding of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration explains why even seemingly anti-religious publications like Charlie Hebdo were unwittingly continuing a tradition of iconoclasm that reached back to the Reformation. When its editor vowed that mockery would continue until ‘Islam has been rendered as banal as Catholicism’, he was demanding that Muslims undergo the same transformative process that Christianity had experienced—a thoroughly Christian demand. The observation that ‘To be secular was not to have left Christianity behind, but to have accepted its most profound revolution’ reflects precisely what the Kingdom inauguration framework predicts: that Jesus’ kingdom would transform society in ways that transcended explicitly religious expressions.

Contemporary Western values, even when expressed in secular terms, derive their fundamental character from Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom and the representative community he established. From human rights to care for vulnerable populations, from the emphasis on individual conscience to the value placed on social justice, modern Western moral frameworks embody the revolutionary principles Jesus introduced through his kingdom ministry. The distinctive values that history documents—including the dignity of victims, universal human rights, and concern for the marginalised—emerged because Jesus established a kingdom that operated according to radically different principles than prevailing power structures. His parables, teachings, and actions launched a moral revolution that continued to unfold through his representative community across centuries, gradually transforming societal assumptions about human worth, ethical responsibility, and social organisation. What modern Westerners consider self-evident moral truths would have been incomprehensible to pre-Christian societies precisely because these values represent the distinctive ethical vision of the kingdom Jesus inaugurated.

In all Jesus’ inauguration of the Kingdom of God demonstrates remarkable predictive power for understanding the origination of Western values as documented throughout history. From the sacralisation of the victim in early Christianity to the moral awakening of contemporary progressive movements, the distinctive values that have shaped Western civilisation find a natural explanation in the claim that Jesus inaugurated God’s Kingdom, launched a new creation, and established a representative community to continue his work. These revolutionary moral developments, which would have been highly unexpected without such a profound historical disruption, become the predictable consequences of Jesus’ kingdom ethics being progressively implemented throughout history. The Criterion of Predictive Power thus provides strong evidence for the explanatory value of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration in understanding the historical origination of Western moral values.

In essence, the KJH provides a powerful explanatory framework for understanding Western civilisation’s distinctive values that would otherwise remain historically inexplicable. If Jesus truly inaugurated God’s Kingdom and established a representative community to continue his work, we would expect precisely the transformative moral developments that history documents: revolutionary conceptions of human dignity, unprecedented compassion for the vulnerable, rational investigation of an orderly cosmos, and principled separation of institutions. This analysis thoroughly dismantles the Failure Objection by demonstrating that Jesus successfully established kingdom values that have fundamentally recalibrated civilisation’s moral frameworks—values that continue to shape ethical discourse even in increasingly secular contexts, reflecting not a failed messianic project but a profoundly successful cultural transformation.

5. Stage Three: The Inauguration of the Transformative Kingdom

5.1. The Transformative Aspect of the Kingdom

Stage 3 of our analysis will explore the ‘transformative aspect’ of the Kingdom focused on the transformative effect of the inauguration of the Kingdom and, most importantly in this section, the launching of the ‘new creation’ by Jesus—as furthered by the representative community that he established—has had on global society. This perspective understands the work of Jesus to not merely focus on establishing a religious framework or set of societal values within reality, but as the fundamental reordering of creation that addresses and begins to reverse the corruption, suffering, and evil that had plagued human existence. The evidential basis of the transformative aspect of this inaugurated kingdom will be focused on five distinct dimensions of societal progress, identified by Steven Pinker (2018), which have quantifiably enhanced human flourishing across cultures and continents, demonstrating the tangible impact of this kingdom and new creation reality in our world. We can state these dimensions as follows:

(10) (Progress)

(i) Enlightenment Principles and the Foundation of Progress (ii) Health, Longevity, and Basic Needs (iii) Economic Prosperity and Environmental Stewardship (iv) Peace, Safety, and Security (v) Democracy, Rights, and Knowledge

We will now explicate these various forms of progress identified by Pinker (2018) in more detail.

5.1.1. Enlightenment Principles and the Foundation of Progress

Enlightenment principles revolve around the conviction that human reason, guided by science, directed toward universal human flourishing, and mobilised through a sense of progress, can significantly improve the human condition (Pinker 2018). These ideas champion the power of collective inquiry over dogma, encourage debate over silence, and place the well-being of individuals at the heart of moral concern. By insisting that rational discourse and empirical evidence should guide decision-making, the Enlightenment tradition envisions a future shaped less by superstition or arbitrary authority and more by deliberate efforts to identify and solve shared problems. In this way, the pursuit of truth, when married to the ideal of human betterment, has propelled civilisation forward and can continue to do so if its core values are sustained (Pinker 2018).

A central pillar of Enlightenment thought is the principle of reason. For these thinkers, this principle involved treating beliefs not as sacrosanct truths but as hypotheses to be evaluated. By making claims answerable to evidence and logical scrutiny, reason functions as a steadying force against the biases and dogmatic fixations that often derail collective understanding. From this standpoint, no authority, whether religious or political, can be immune to challenge; all ideas must withstand questioning if they aspire to be taken seriously (Pinker 2018). The embrace of reason explains why scientific methods could dismantle a broad spectrum of superstitions, whether the notion that comets are omens or the belief that illnesses result from spiritual curses (Pinker 2018). This illumination of ignorance, though sometimes slow and incomplete, leads to the creation of knowledge that is neither static nor bound to a single culture. Reason becomes an ongoing project of analysis, debate, and self-correction, protecting civilisation from magical thinking and encouraging the quest for verifiable truth.

Science, as a systematic application of reason, forms the second key element of the Enlightenment ideals. While reason underlies the drive to justify beliefs with arguments, science codifies this demand by insisting on empirical validation, reproducibility, and transparent methods. Through science, human beings learn to conceptualise reality not as the result of capricious deities or hidden essences, but as the outcome of natural laws and processes that can be investigated and understood (Pinker 2018). This scientific perspective has proven enormously fruitful: it has led to breakthroughs in medicine, agriculture, transportation, and communication that serve as direct facilitators of global progress. But beyond practical benefits, science also cultivates a sense of humility, because it exposes cherished assumptions to the possibility of refutation. In its purest form, science does not recognise intellectual hierarchies; even the most revered theorem can be modified or overturned if new evidence demands a revision (Pinker 2018). This humility before evidence contrasts sharply with dogmatic modes of thought that treat doctrine as irreversible, showing how a culture grounded in scientific inquiry becomes better able to adjust to novel challenges.

Humanism is the third principle responsible for the remarkable advances in well-being that modernity has achieved. It posits that individual people, with all their desires, hopes, vulnerabilities, and capacities, are the ultimate sources of moral worth. Rather than understanding moral good in terms of divine decree, tribal loyalty, or national conquest, humanism anchors it in the relief of suffering and the fostering of happiness among men, women, and children (Pinker 2018). By championing sympathy for all human beings, humanism foregrounds equality, freedom, and the expansion of individual potential. A humanistic value system counters the destructive tendencies that arise when loyalty to a group, leader, or dogma eclipses any concern for another person’s life. It also undergirds movements for political and social reform, helping communities realise that cruelty, oppression, and neglect are problems to be remedied rather than cosmic or moral inevitabilities (Pinker 2018). Humanism motivates better policies not by appealing to some intangible order in the universe, but by calling attention to suffering here on Earth and by inspiring efforts to address the needs of real, flesh-and-blood people.

The final guiding principle is the very possibility of progress. This belief, while easy to ridicule in an era marked by conflicts and crises, was revolutionary at the dawn of the Enlightenment, which arose in a world still shadowed by famine, epidemic diseases, endemic warfare, and the assumption that such hardships could never be fully overcome (Pinker 2018). Enlightenment thinkers upended this fatalism by proposing that, armed with reason and science, and moved by compassion for fellow humans, societies could ameliorate or even resolve the afflictions that had seemed unassailable (Pinker 2018). Although progress does not progress monotonically—wars, totalitarian regimes, and natural disasters still arise—Enlightenment optimism contends that human ingenuity, cumulatively directed, can reduce their frequency and impact over time. It was precisely this faith in incremental change that spurred campaigns against slavery and brutal punishments, for education, and for public health (Pinker 2018). While acknowledging setbacks and tragedies, data suggests these campaigns have been surprisingly successful in lowering violence, raising longevity, spreading literacy, and reducing the incidence of extreme poverty. The idea of progress itself, far from being a naïve daydream, thereby becomes an empirically supported observation when one looks at the broad arcs of civilisation through the centuries.6

Progress rests on the idea that human ingenuity, guided by reason and empirical understanding, has increasingly shaped a better world over time. This improvement is neither magical nor inevitable. Rather, it reflects centuries of gradual problem-solving, scientific discovery, and moral expansion (Pinker 2018). By examining measurable indicators across diverse areas of human life—ranging from health and wealth to peace and safety—our species is better off now than at any other point in history. Although setbacks and challenges remain, the broader trends reveal substantial progress that counters the recurring narrative of decline. Let us now examine four major themes of this progress.

5.1.2. Health, Longevity, and Basic Needs

One clear sign of human progress is the extension of life expectancy. Throughout most of history, average lifespans rarely rose above thirty or forty years. Diseases, poor sanitation, recurring famine, and the lack of medical knowledge kept mortality rates high, especially in childhood (Pinker 2018). By applying reason and scientific innovation, societies learned to fight pathogens through vaccination, quarantine, and eventually modern medicine. At the same time, improvements in nutrition, the availability of clean water, and basic hygiene practices cut back the incidence of lethal infections. Global life expectancy rose from around 30 years in the mid-18th century to about 71 years by 2015, a leap that would have astonished even the wealthiest classes of previous eras (Pinker 2018). Though longevity is not equally distributed, the overall direction is upward, indicating a world in which vast numbers of people can enjoy many more decades of healthy life.7

The realm of health shows a similar upward trajectory. Humanity has battled countless illnesses—from smallpox and tuberculosis to malaria and polio—that for centuries devastated entire populations. As scientific understanding deepened, societies devised targeted interventions: pasteurisation, antibiotics, mosquito control, and advanced diagnostics. Hospitals and clinics’ trained medical professionals under ever more rigorous standards. Measles alone, which once claimed millions of lives, has been drastically reduced through global vaccination, contributing to what might be called the ‘greatest story seldom told’—the broad decline of infectious diseases (Pinker 2018). While new pandemics can still arise, the capacity to respond effectively has never been greater. Child mortality, a key barometer of health, continues to fall worldwide; previously deadly infections are tamed with vaccines; and preventive care strategies, such as public health education, are bringing better outcomes even to remote regions. The drop in global child mortality, from 18 percent in 1960 to around 4 percent in recent years, is a crucial sign that healthcare interventions are saving millions of young lives (Pinker 2018). The cumulative effect is a vast improvement in global health, with countless millions spared from early death and chronic disease.

Just as health has improved, so too has sustenance: hunger no longer defines the human experience in the way it once did. Even in relatively recent history, entire communities could vanish during prolonged crop failures, with no recourse but to beg or starve. Technological breakthroughs in agriculture changed that grim pattern. From mechanised farming to synthetic fertilisers, each innovation greatly expanded food production. This transformation occurred in the context of the Green Revolution, where new high-yield crops and fertilisers helped triple global grain output between 1961 and 2009 (Pinker 2018). The world now grows enough food to meet the nutritional needs of everyone on the planet, at least in principle; although hunger still afflicts too many people, the rates of severe undernourishment have declined significantly, and famines, once routine, are now rare and often short-lived. The percentage of undernourished people worldwide dropped from around 35 percent in 1970 to about 13 percent in 2015, reflecting the dramatic improvements in getting food to more people (Pinker 2018). Taken together, these advances reflect a transformation in how societies feed themselves.

Furthermore, quality of life reflects many overlapping gains. Two hundred years ago, daily work was physically exhausting, children suffered in large numbers, and amenities like running water or electricity were non-existent. Today, a growing share of the world’s inhabitants enjoy comforts—safe living environments, reliable heat, clean drinking water, and consumer goods—that were once reserved for the elite. Leisure time has expanded as well, giving people opportunities for travel, arts, and recreation (Pinker 2018). Moreover, technological leaps, from household appliances to smartphones, have freed up hours once spent on drudgery, thereby enriching cultural and personal activities. Consider that as recently as 1900, 14-h workdays were the norm in many industries, whereas now the average workweek in advanced economies hovers around 40 h or less, enabling significantly more leisure (Pinker 2018). This overarching rise in living standards embodies a triumph of applied reason in everyday life.

Such improvements in tangible well-being dovetail with progress in happiness and subjective fulfilment, although the metrics for these are more elusive. Greater security and a sense of purpose often accompany higher living standards (Pinker 2018). As people escape the immediate dangers of hunger and disease, they can invest more energy in relationships, work, and self-expression, all of which feed into well-being. Although modern life can bring stresses of its own, including economic competition or information overload, comparative data suggest that, on average, countries with higher wealth and better health infrastructures report increased life satisfaction (Pinker 2018). Survey data indicates that, across continents, self-reported happiness tends to rise with per capita income, further suggesting a link between progress in prosperity and day-to-day contentment. Across a variety of settings, from Nordic nations to rapidly developing Asian states, many individuals now experience deeper levels of well-being.

5.1.3. Economic Prosperity and Environmental Stewardship

Wealth, another measure of progress, provides a lens to see how people’s material well-being has improved. Before the Industrial Revolution, most individuals lived at the subsistence level, never accumulating savings or property beyond the bare necessities. Poverty was an expected condition for the overwhelming majority. As markets developed and scientific knowledge was applied to practical problems, economic output grew exponentially, raising living standards even among people once consigned to lifelong poverty. Infrastructure—such as roads, railways, and telecommunications—knit regions together, making commerce more efficient. Gross world product per capita has grown by almost 200-fold since the start of the Enlightenment, a feat never before seen in human history (Pinker 2018). Today, many countries once classified as developing have shifted into middle-income or even high-income status in just a generation or two. The fruits of prosperity, from robust consumer markets to modern financial systems, have become more broadly distributed than ever before, reflecting the massive potential of wealth creation in open, knowledge-driven economies.

Inequality, a subject of heated debate, is nuanced a nuanced issue. Although some forms of inequality have grown within certain countries, the global picture reveals a different dynamic. For centuries, there was a stark gap between the world’s richest nations and the poorest, but that chasm has begun to narrow. Rising countries in Asia, Latin America, and parts of Africa are catching up economically, reducing overall global inequality even if domestic inequalities persist (Pinker 2018). From 1981 to 2015, the proportion of humanity living in extreme poverty (less than about $1.90 a day) fell from 44 percent to under 10 percent—an unprecedented drop. Moreover, poverty itself is not a fixed condition: hundreds of millions of people have been lifted above dire poverty thanks to economic growth, trade, and technology (Pinker 2018). The fact that some have become exceptionally wealthy does not negate the substantial improvements across much of humanity, particularly for those who historically had next to nothing. While inequality continues to prompt legitimate concerns about fairness and opportunity, the broader reality includes a massive rise in living standards that was once unimaginable.

One of the more surprising successes is the sphere of environmental progress. Certainly, dangers like climate change pose serious threats, and deforestation, pollution, and species loss remind us that environmental challenges remain formidable (Pinker 2018). Yet there are clear signs of advancement driven by knowledge-based solutions. Technologies that make energy usage more efficient, from solar panels to wind turbines, are increasingly widespread. Many countries have enacted cleaner air and water regulations that have rolled back the worst pollution, demonstrating that industrial growth and environmental protection need not be mutually exclusive (Pinker 2018). While carbon emissions and global warming remain pressing, other hazards such as thick urban smog or untreated sewage have been sharply reduced in many places, leading to measurable gains in air and water quality. As expertise in sustainable agriculture expands, some areas have seen reforestation, and endangered species have recovered under deliberate conservation strategies (Pinker 2018). The remaining challenges, especially climate change, should not be minimised, but progress in environmental stewardship is possible—and has already emerged—when institutions, policy, and technology pull together.

Even so, we cannot ignore the existential threats that remain. As Pinker (2018) notes, we must acknowledge that nuclear war remains a possibility, climate change threatens large-scale harm, and social disruptions can still upend hard-won progress. Yet humanity can solve what it understands, and it can guide its problem-solving capacity through rational discourse, scientific inquiry, and international collaboration. While the global stockpile of nuclear weapons fell from over 60,000 in the 1980s to about 15,000 by the mid-2010s, the risk has not disappeared, thus demanding ongoing vigilance. The very fact that these risks loom so visibly in public debate signifies a growing awareness and a desire to curb or mitigate them (Pinker 2018). While vigilance and concerted effort will be required to address modern hazards, the successes in tackling famine, disease, and pollution stand as evidence that human institutions can rise to great challenges when mobilised by shared concern.

5.1.4. Peace, Safety, and Security

Alongside these gains in material and environmental well-being, the world has witnessed a notable decline in organised violent conflict. For much of history, warfare was a common feature of political life. Nations clashed in repeated cycles of conquests and counter-invasions, while civil wars erupted with terrible frequency. However, the period since the mid-20th century has seen a steep reduction in interstate wars and an overall decline in war-related fatalities (Pinker 2018). Data on war deaths shows a dramatic drop from around 22 deaths per 100,000 people per year worldwide during World War II, to less than 1 per 100,000 in the early 21st century. Despite regional conflicts and humanitarian crises, the horrors of large-scale global conflict have not recurred at the same scale since World War II (Pinker 2018). Diplomatic institutions, global commerce, and the deterrence provided by international coalitions have all contributed to this ‘Long Peace’. While still imperfect, these frameworks signal that long-term declines in warfare are part of a genuine trend, not an illusion.8

Progress in peace dovetails with progress in safety at home. Rates of violent crime, murder, and other assaults have dropped dramatically in many developed nations over the past few decades. This is attributable partly to better policing methods, a more reliable rule of law, and a cultural shift that stigmatises casual violence (Pinker 2018). The decline in U.S. homicide rates, which in 1992 stood at 9.3 per 100,000 and have since fallen to around half that figure, illustrates how a focus on deterrence and community safety can change everyday life. Even domestic abuse and child abuse rates have generally fallen in societies where legal protections and social norms now favour nonviolence. These advances in day-to-day security allow individuals to move, learn, and do business with less fear for their personal safety (Pinker 2018). As a result, more citizens can engage constructively with their neighbours, further reinforcing norms of cooperation and civility.

Terrorism, by contrast, dominates headlines whenever an attack occurs, but its perceived threat looms far larger than its statistical risk. Historically, political and ideological violence, from anarchists to extremist militias, has claimed lives, but not in numbers that rival major conflicts or everyday misfortunes like traffic accidents. By one calculation, an American is far more likely to die in a car crash than in a terrorist plot—by a factor of several thousand. Today, terror groups pose grave local dangers in certain regions, yet globally, the probability of an individual being killed in a terror attack remains low. This discrepancy between attention and likelihood exemplifies how immediate, sensational events can distort our broader understanding of risk (Pinker 2018). It is another reminder that focusing on trends and data rather than anecdotal headlines gives a more accurate picture of where society is moving.

5.1.5. Democracy, Rights, and Knowledge

While peace and safety mark tangible progress, democracy has further deepened in many parts of the world, reflecting an expansion of political freedom and governance by consent. The number of democratic states has steadily risen compared to authoritarian regimes, particularly since the mid-20th century (Pinker 2018). Whereas only a handful of countries could be considered democracies at the start of the 20th century, now more than half of all nations conduct multiparty elections and protect key civil liberties. People are increasingly likely to vote in multiparty elections, exercise freedoms of speech and assembly, and hold leaders accountable through civic institutions (Pinker 2018). Although democracy itself can stall or backslide, the overall trend has been toward more open societies, encouraged by global communication networks and by the moral prestige attached to participatory governance. This political evolution, grounded in Enlightenment ideals, helps ensure that authority rests on the will of the governed rather than brute force or hereditary rule.

Among the most uplifting indicators of progress are the expansions in equal rights. Over the past century, systemic barriers that once oppressed vast segments of humanity have progressively fallen. Women have gained the right to vote, own property, and pursue education in nearly all countries—rights denied to them throughout most of recorded history. The share of women in national legislatures worldwide rose from around 3 percent in 1975 to over 20 percent by the 2010s, though the gap in representation remains significant. Many nations have also advanced the recognition of racial, religious, and ethnic minorities, embedding legal protections that guard against discrimination (Pinker 2018). More recently, LGBTQ+ individuals have seen a surge in civil rights—with such developments thus signifying the ongoing widening of the circle of moral concern, moving societies closer to inclusive ideals once championed only on paper.

The spread of knowledge ranks among the foundational drivers of progress, which is crucial to improvement in every other domain. Global literacy rates have soared, thanks to mass education and the decline of child labour in many regions. Access to schooling, once a luxury, is now recognised as a social imperative, while digital devices bring educational resources to almost anyone (Pinker 2018). Worldwide literacy’s dramatic growth, from about 20 percent in the early 1800s to over 80 percent today, signifies a broad democratisation of learning. Online repositories of information, open courses, and digital libraries empower individuals to study fields traditionally closed to them (Pinker 2018). This democratisation of knowledge, reinforced by global connectivity, fosters a more informed public—capable, in principle, of rational debate and problem-solving at a scale unimaginable even a few decades ago.

To conclude, the Enlightenment established foundational principles—reason as evaluative thinking, science as systematic empirical investigation, humanism as concern for universal well-being, and progress as the possibility of improvement—that have enabled unprecedented human advancement by identifying and systematically addressing shared problems (Pinker 2018). These interrelated principles, while often portrayed as purely secular innovations, built upon Christian intellectual traditions regarding the intelligibility of creation, the purpose of knowledge, the dignity of persons, and the meaningful direction of history, thereby creating philosophical frameworks that would eventually translate theological convictions into universal rational language applicable across diverse cultural contexts.

Overall, these measurable improvements in human life reflect that reason and humanism, unleashed by the Enlightenment, have genuine power to generate better outcomes for billions of people. From defeating once-deadly infections to providing mass education, from raising living standards to broadening civil liberties, civilisation has stacked up achievements that would have appeared as miracles to earlier generations (Pinker 2018). None of these advances is guaranteed to continue without interruption, and none removes the need to address the problems that remain—among them entrenched injustice, political instability, and ecological crises (Pinker 2018). But the essential lesson is that improvement is possible, and that the methods of science, cooperation, and a commitment to human welfare have already carried us farther than any age that came before. By recognizing these past successes and analysing how they were accomplished, we gain both the motivation and the roadmap to extend progress even further, ensuring that more and more people share in humanity’s unfolding achievements.

5.2. Evidential Analysis of the Transformative Aspect of the Kingdom

The evidential aspect of Stage 3 of our analysis will now focus on evaluating the KJH against the historical data explicated in the previous sub-section, in light of the results of Stages 1 and 2 which established the distinct religious traits and societal values that emerged from early Christianity, and is now assumed as background data. The elements of societal progress outlined in the previous section provide the data that the KJH is to be evaluated against. We can state the background of the KJH succinctly as follows:

(11) (Background3)

(i) Second Temple Judaism understood Israel as God’s covenant people chosen to restore creation despite humanity’s fall, serving as ‘royal stewards’ over creation while experiencing exile due to covenant unfaithfulness, yet awaiting divine intervention through a promised Messiah who would end their exile, restore God’s presence to Zion, and guide humanity into its true vocation as God’s image-bearers. (ii) Jesus’ inauguration of God’s Kingdom on earth established fundamental religious elements that would become normative across world civilisations, including religious exclusivity, ethnic inclusivity, scriptural centricity, and ethical equality, transforming how humanity understands and practices religion from the Roman era to the present day. (iii) Moreover, Jesus’ inauguration of the Kingdom of God fundamentally transformed Western civilisation by establishing revolutionary principles of human dignity, compassion, rational inquiry, and individual conscience. By introducing a kingdom ethic that valued all humans equally as bearers of God’s image, challenged existing social hierarchies, and promoted love, universal rights, and moral transformation, Jesus launched a moral revolution that gradually reshaped societal values. This kingdom inauguration created a new understanding of human worth that transcended ancient power structures, ultimately giving rise to core Western values of universal human rights, compassionate social justice, scientific rationalism, enlightenment and institutional separation—principles that continue to influence global moral discourse even in increasingly secular contexts.

The central postulation of the KJH—specifically, that Jesus inaugurated God’s Kingdom on earth, launched the new creation and established a representative community to continue this work—demonstrates remarkable explanatory power when applied to the analysis of global progress. More precisely, in taking into account the background evidence—specifically, the results of Stage 2—one can now understand that there is a ‘chain of inference’ that connects Jesus’ inauguration of the kingdom to the progress that has taken place within society. This is that one can understand that Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration introduced revolutionary values: the dignity of every person, moral universalism, elevation of the weak, and sacralisation of the victim. These values were preserved, developed, and institutionalised by his representative community (the Church) through theology, monasticism, universities, and social institutions. This created a radical value system that fundamentally reshaped the Western moral imagination. Christian moral principles were translated into rational, universal language during the Enlightenment period. Kingdom values were systematised into philosophical frameworks, scientific methods, and political theories. This was not a rejection of Christian values but their reframing in more universal, rational terms. The institutions and ideals stemming from this moral-rational framework produced measurable improvements in human flourishing. Modern progress across health, wealth, peace, and knowledge represents the concrete manifestation of kingdom values working through human systems. The Kingdom inaugurated by Jesus is empirically observable in global metrics of human advancement. Hence, this all demonstrates that modern progress is not merely the product of secular rationality but the fruit of Jesus’ kingdom values translated and implemented through historical processes. The Enlightenment did not create its moral framework from scratch but built upon and translated the revolutionary ethics inaugurated by Jesus’ kingdom. Thus, by inaugurating a kingdom that laid the foundations for the Enlightenment principles of reason, science, humanism, and the possibility of progress, Jesus established a foundational ethical framework that would gradually transform human understanding and capabilities—and thus bring about the realisation of the new creation and the defeating of ‘evil’ present within the ‘old creation’. We will now explain this in further detail.

5.2.1. The King Jesus Hypothesis and the Enlightenment Principles, and the Foundation of Progress

When examined through the lens of our established background evidence, the Enlightenment principles of reason, science, humanism, and progress provide compelling support for the KJH. If Jesus truly inaugurated the kingdom, launched the new creation and established a representative community to actualise it, we would expect precisely this historical progression: kingdom values would first be articulated in theological terms, then translated into rational frameworks, and finally bear fruit in measurable human advancement.

The concept of reason, as an Enlightenment principle, exemplifies the, as noted previously, its establishment on Christian teaching. Jesus’ teaching that ‘the truth will set you free’ (John 8:32) established truth-seeking as a core kingdom value. His representative community developed this principle through medieval universities where scholars like Peter Abelard declared, ‘By doubting we come to inquiry, and by inquiry we perceive the truth’. This theological understanding was later secularised during the Enlightenment, but maintained its essential connection to Jesus’ kingdom value of truth. The historical progression from Jesus’ teaching to medieval Christian scholarship to Enlightenment rationalism provides exactly the pattern we would expect if Jesus’ inauguration of the kingdom was gradually transforming human understanding.

Similarly, modern science, as noted above, emerged through the promulgation of Jesus’ kingdom values. The Christian understanding of creation as rational and orderly—expressed by Thomas Aquinas’s declaration that ‘It is by God’s laws that the whole scheme of things is governed’—provided the essential foundation for scientific inquiry. This theological principle was later translated into the Enlightenment conviction that the universe operates according to discoverable laws. Without the kingdom value that creation reflects divine wisdom, it would be difficult to explain why systematic scientific investigation emerged specifically from Christian contexts rather than from equally sophisticated civilisations in Asia or the Islamic world. The KJH predicts this specific historical development because it understands scientific advancement as an expression of the new creation gradually being actualised through human investigation of God’s ordered cosmos.

Humanism, as an Enlightenment principle, represents perhaps the clearest example of Christian values reframed in secular terms. The revolutionary kingdom value that every person bears God’s image (imago Dei) established human dignity as a core Christian conviction. This theological understanding was later translated into the Enlightenment language of natural rights and human worth without explicit reference to God. The historical evidence confirms this progression: from Jesus’ elevation of the marginalised, to the Church’s development of charitable institutions, to the Enlightenment articulation of universal human rights. This historical development provides exactly the pattern we would expect if Jesus’ inauguration of the kingdom was progressively transforming human society through his representative community.

The very concept of progress itself—the fourth Enlightenment principle—emerged from the linear, purposeful understanding of history that Christianity introduced. Ancient cyclical views of time gave way to the Christian conception of history as moving toward a divine purpose. This theological framework was later secularised into the Enlightenment belief in human progress, but maintained its essential teleological structure. Without the kingdom understanding that history has purpose and direction, it becomes difficult to explain why Western civilisation developed its distinctive commitment to progress rather than maintaining traditional cyclical views like other advanced civilisations. The KJH predicts this transformation because it understands human progress as the gradual manifestation of the new creation launched by Jesus’ resurrection.

5.2.2. The King Jesus Hypothesis and Health, Longevity, and Basic Needs

Our established background evidence reveals how the dramatic improvements in health, longevity, and fulfilment of basic needs outlined in Section 5.1 strongly affirm the explanatory value of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration. The unprecedented extension of human lifespans—from approximately 30 years in the mid-18th century to 71 years by 2015—represents exactly the kind of transformation we would expect if Jesus truly launched a new creation that progressively overcomes death and suffering. First, Jesus’ healing ministry and compassion for the sick established physical well-being as a kingdom value. His representative community institutionalised this concern through the development of hospitals, beginning with Basil’s Basileias in the 4th century. The thesis that Jesus launched the new creation explains why Christian institutions pioneered healthcare as an organised, systematic endeavour. Basil’s establishment of the first hospital in the 4th century exemplifies how Jesus’ kingdom ethic of care for the suffering generated concrete institutional innovations. Without this new creation perspective, it becomes difficult to explain why societies would systematically devote resources to caring for the sick, especially those without wealth or status. With it, the development of healthcare institutions becomes an expected expression of Jesus’ teaching that ‘whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me’ (Matthew 25:40). These theological and institutional foundations were later translated into Enlightenment approaches to medicine based on rational investigation and universal application. Finally, modern medical advancements—from antibiotics to vaccines to sanitation—represent the empirical manifestation of these kingdom values working through human systems.

The Christian theological understanding of disease not as a divine punishment but as a disorder to be overcome proved crucial to this development. Early Christian figures explicitly rejected the pagan view that sickness represented divine judgment, instead understanding healing as an expression of God’s restoration of creation. This theological framework provided the essential foundation for the later scientific understanding of disease as a natural phenomenon that could be systematically investigated and addressed through human ingenuity. The historical evidence confirms that many pioneers of modern medicine—from Pasteur to Lister to Nightingale—were explicitly motivated by Christian convictions about the value of human life and the calling to relieve suffering.

The reduction in child mortality—from 18 percent in 1960 to approximately 4 percent in recent years—provides another powerful confirmation of the KJH’s explanatory value. This transformation aligns precisely with Jesus’ elevation of children as particularly valued in his kingdom (Mark 10:14). His representative community progressively implemented this value through orphanages, education, and eventually paediatric medicine. Without this kingdom value placing special importance on children’s well-being, it becomes difficult to explain why societies would devote significant resources specifically to reducing child mortality. The KJH predicts this development because it understands the protection of vulnerable children as a core aspect of the new creation being progressively actualised in human society.

Similarly, the dramatic reduction in global hunger demonstrates the explanatory power of the new creation framework. Jesus’ feeding miracles and teaching on bread established physical nourishment as a kingdom concern. His representative community institutionalised this value through monastic agriculture, charitable food distribution, and eventually agricultural science. The Green Revolution that tripled global grain output between 1961 and 2009 represents the empirical manifestation of this kingdom value working through technological innovation. Without this kingdom understanding of food as a divine provision to be shared equitably, it becomes difficult to explain why modern societies would develop agricultural systems designed to feed millions beyond their borders. The KJH predicts this development because it understands the feeding of the hungry as a concrete expression of the new creation launched by Jesus’ resurrection.

5.2.3. The King Jesus Hypothesis and Economic Prosperity and Environmental Stewardship

The historical emergence of unprecedented economic prosperity offers powerful validation for the KJH when considered alongside our established background evidence. The 200-fold increase in gross world product per capita since the Enlightenment represents exactly the pattern we would expect if Jesus’ kingdom values were progressively transforming human economic systems; his economic transformation follows the inauguration of the kingdom. First, Jesus established economic principles like honest work, faithful stewardship, and compassion for the poor as kingdom values. His representative community developed these principles through monastic economies, scholastic economic theory, and eventually Protestant work ethics. These theological understandings were later translated into Enlightenment economic frameworks based on contract, property rights, and free exchange. Finally, modern market economies—characterised by innovation, entrepreneurship, and widespread prosperity—represent the empirical manifestation of these kingdom values working through economic systems.

The dramatic reduction in global poverty—from 44 percent of humanity living in extreme poverty in 1981 to under 10 percent by 2015—provides further powerful evidence for the KJH’s explanatory value. This transformation aligns precisely with Jesus’ concern for the poor and teaching about abundance. His representative community progressively implemented these values through almsgiving, economic development, and eventually systematic approaches to poverty reduction. Without these kingdom values establishing the moral imperative to address poverty, it becomes difficult to explain why advanced economies would develop comprehensive approaches to global poverty reduction. The KJH predicts this development because it understands the alleviation of poverty as a manifestation of the new creation launched by Jesus’ resurrection.

The emergence of environmental stewardship similarly demonstrates the explanatory power of the new creation framework. The Genesis mandate to ‘tend and keep’ creation (Genesis 2:15) established environmental responsibility as a theological principle. This understanding was developed through Christian traditions of land management and eventually translated into rational frameworks for conservation and sustainability. Modern environmental movements—while often secular in expression—represent the empirical manifestation of this kingdom value working through human systems. Without this theological understanding of humans as stewards rather than mere exploiters of creation, it becomes difficult to explain why societies would systematically limit resource extraction to protect ecosystems. The KJH predicts the rise of environmental consciousness because it understands responsible stewardship of the earth as an expression of the new creation gradually being actualised in human society.

The ability of humanity to avoid existential catastrophes despite technological capability for self-destruction further confirms the predictive power of the KJH. The reduction in nuclear arsenals—from over 60,000 weapons in the 1980s to approximately 15,000 by the mid-2010s—reflects the influence of kingdom values on international relations. The Christian principle of peacemaking provided the moral foundation for arms control, which was later articulated in rational terms of global security. Without these moral constraints, history suggests that technological capability for destruction would likely have been fully employed. The KJH predicts this restraint because it understands peacemaking as a kingdom value progressively transforming human institutions through the launch of the new creation.

5.2.4. The King Jesus Hypothesis and Peace, Safety, and Security

Again, viewed through the framework of our established background evidence, the substantial reduction in organised violence powerfully validates Jesus’ inauguration of the kingdom and the initiation of the new creation. The dramatic reduction in war deaths—from approximately 22 per 100,000 people per year during World War II to less than 1 per 100,000 in the early 21st century—follows precisely the pattern we would expect if Jesus’ kingdom values were gradually transforming human societies.

This transformation in violence follows the launch of the new creation. First, Jesus established nonviolence and peacemaking as kingdom values through his teaching to ‘love your enemies’ and ‘blessed are the peacemakers’. His representative community developed these principles through just war theory, peace movements, and eventually international law. These theological understandings were later translated into Enlightenment frameworks of international relations based on rational self-interest and mutual benefit. Finally, modern diplomatic institutions and conflict resolution mechanisms represent the empirical manifestation of these kingdom values working through political systems.

The Christian concept of ‘just peace’ proved essential to this development. Medieval Christian thinkers like Augustine and Aquinas developed sophisticated frameworks for constraining violence that laid the groundwork for later international humanitarian law. Without these theological foundations establishing moral constraints on warfare, it becomes difficult to explain why modern states would voluntarily limit their military options through international agreements. The KJH predicts this development because it understands peacemaking as a core aspect of the new creation being progressively actualised in human-international relations.

The notable decline in violent crime similarly demonstrates the explanatory power of the new creation framework. The reduction in homicide rates in many developed nations represents the concrete manifestation of Jesus’ teaching against violence and vengeance. His representative community translated these values into legal systems that prioritise rehabilitation alongside punishment. Without these kingdom values establishing the moral imperative to overcome violence, it becomes difficult to explain why societies would systematically develop alternatives to retributive justice. The KJH predicts this transformation because it understands the rejection of violence as an expression of the new creation launched by Jesus’ resurrection.

The reduction in domestic violence and child abuse further confirms the predictive power of the KJH. These improvements reflect Jesus’ revolutionary elevation of women and children as fully valued members of his kingdom. While patriarchal structures persisted for centuries within Christian societies, the kingdom principle of equal dignity progressively transformed family relationships through theological development, legal reforms, and eventually universal rights. Without these kingdom values establishing the inherent worth of women and children, it becomes difficult to explain why societies would systematically prohibit practices that were once considered normal expressions of male authority. The KJH predicts this development because it understands the protection of vulnerable family members as a concrete manifestation of Jesus’ kingdom values gradually transforming social relationships through the launch of the new creation.

5.2.5. The King Jesus Hypothesis and Democracy, Rights, and Knowledge

The documented global expansion of democracy, human rights, and knowledge access provides remarkable evidential support for the reality of Jesus’ kingdom and new creation when analysed through our established background evidence. The remarkable increase in democratic governance—from a handful of countries at the start of the 20th century to more than half of all nations today—follows precisely the pattern we would expect if Jesus’ kingdom values were gradually transforming political systems. First, Jesus established human dignity and moral equality as kingdom values through his teaching and practice. His representative community developed these principles through theological concepts like the imago Dei and natural law. These theological understandings were later translated into Enlightenment political frameworks based on the consent of the governed and inalienable rights. Finally, modern democratic systems—characterised by universal suffrage, protection of minorities, and peaceful transfers of power—represent the empirical manifestation of these kingdom values working through political institutions.

The Christian concept of covenant proved essential to democratic development. The idea that legitimate authority is based on mutual commitment rather than raw power emerged from biblical covenantal theology and was explicitly applied to political arrangements by Reformed thinkers. Without this theological foundation establishing consent as the basis for legitimate governance, it becomes difficult to explain why divine right monarchy would give way to democratic governance. The KJH predicts this development because it understands human dignity and moral agency as kingdom values being progressively actualised in political systems through the launch of the new creation.

The expansion of rights for women and minorities similarly demonstrates the explanatory power of the new creation framework. The dramatic increase in women’s participation in national legislatures—from approximately 3 percent in 1975 to over 20 percent by the 2010s—represents the concrete manifestation of Paul’s revolutionary declaration that ‘there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female’ (Galatians 3:28). While Christian societies often failed to fully implement this principle, the kingdom value of human equality gradually transformed social structures through theological development, legal reforms, and eventually universal rights. Without this kingdom principle establishing the moral equality of all persons, it becomes difficult to explain why societies would systematically dismantle hierarchies that had characterised human organisation for millennia. The KJH predicts this transformation because it understands human equality as an expression of the new creation launched by Jesus’ resurrection.

The unprecedented spread of knowledge and education further confirms the predictive power of the KJH. The remarkable growth in global literacy—from approximately 20 percent in the early 1800s to over 80 percent today—aligns precisely with Jesus’ emphasis on truth and understanding. His representative community institutionalised this value through monastic libraries, cathedral schools, and eventually universal education. The Christian commitment to scripture created a religious imperative for literacy that was found in no other major world religion. Without this theological foundation establishing the importance of individual access to knowledge, it becomes difficult to explain why societies would devote significant resources to universal education. The KJH predicts this development because it understands the pursuit of truth and understanding as a kingdom value being progressively actualised in educational institutions through the launch of the new creation.

In all, the KJH provides a compelling explanatory framework for understanding humanity’s unprecedented progress in well-being that would otherwise remain historically inexplicable. The evidence reveals a clear developmental sequence: Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration introduced revolutionary values; his representative community preserved and institutionalised these values; these theological principles were translated into rational frameworks during the Enlightenment; and these frameworks ultimately produced measurable improvements in human flourishing across dimensions of health, prosperity, peace, and knowledge. This analysis systematically dismantles the Failure Objection by demonstrating that Jesus successfully inaugurated a kingdom and launched a new creation that operates through progressive transformation rather than apocalyptic replacement—precisely as his own organic metaphors of kingdom growth suggested. The quantifiable evidence of human flourishing thus provides empirical confirmation that Jesus’ kingdom continues to advance in exactly the developmental pattern he described, gradually overcoming death, scarcity, violence, and ignorance through the implementation of kingdom values.

6. Addressing the Failure Objection and the Global Proclamation of the King Jesus Gospel

6.1. The Religious Aspect of the Kingdom and the Failure Objection

The Failure Objection represents a significant epistemological mischaracterisation of the nature and manifestation of Jesus’ kingship as articulated in the KJG. This objection operates from the presupposition that Jesus’ kingdom should be evaluated primarily through the framework of apocalyptic expectations—specifically, that a legitimate universal king would necessarily manifest authority through immediate cosmic intervention. However, the evidential analysis of religious transformation presented above constitutes a substantial refutation of this objection by demonstrating that Jesus successfully inaugurated a kingdom that has systematically reconfigured human religious consciousness in ways that remain inexplicable if his mission had indeed failed.

The objection’s central proposition—that Jesus failed because he ‘predicted the imminent end of the world and establishment of God’s Kingdom, yet died without fulfilling these predictions’—represents a category error in its conceptualisation of Jesus’ kingdom. If Jesus’ kingdom were primarily characterised by apocalyptic intervention, the objection might maintain validity. However, the evidence of religious transformation demonstrates that Jesus’ kingship operates through cultural and religious innovation rather than cataclysmic disruption. The objection thereby addresses a misrepresentation while failing to engage with the actual nature of Jesus’ kingdom as evidenced in historical religious development.

The four distinctive religious traits identified by Hurtado—religious exclusivity, ethnic inclusivity, scriptural centricity, and ethical equality—constitute substantial evidence that Jesus’ kingdom succeeded precisely through establishing a representative community that fundamentally transformed religious practice. Religious exclusivity, with its unprecedented ‘dyadic’ devotional pattern venerating Jesus alongside God within a strictly monotheistic framework, represents a religious innovation without parallel that defies explanation as the aftermath of a failed mission. The Failure Objection cannot adequately account for why a purportedly failed messiah would be accorded divine honours within a rigorously monotheistic framework—a development without precedent in Jewish religious history. This innovation demonstrates not failure but an unprecedented recognition of Jesus’ authority at the highest ontological level, as one worthy of worship alongside God.

Similarly, ethnic inclusivity’s transcendence of traditional tribal boundaries contradicts the Failure Objection’s premise. If Jesus had indeed failed, one would anticipate his movement remaining confined to a marginal Jewish sect. Instead, historical evidence demonstrates the rapid expansion of a trans-ethnic religious community that fundamentally redefined religious identity apart from ethnicity, nationality, or social status. Paul’s formulation that ‘There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female’ (Galatians 3:28) reflects not the aftermath of failure but the successful implementation of Jesus’ kingdom vision that transcended traditional boundaries. This unprecedented religious innovation cannot be adequately explained as the product of a failed apocalyptic prediction; it constitutes evidence for the successful establishment of a universal kingdom operating through cultural transformation rather than apocalyptic disruption.

The scriptural centricity of Christianity, with its distinctive textual practices and substantial literary production, further undermines the Failure Objection. If Jesus had indeed failed, one would anticipate his movement fading into obscurity rather than generating unprecedented literary productivity and innovative textual practices. The substantial investment in copying, disseminating, and studying texts reflects not the compensatory attempts of a failed movement to salvage their beliefs but the systematic expression of a community operating under Jesus’ continuing authority. The development of distinctive book formats (codex), scribal practices (nomina sacra), and literary innovations (gospel genre) demonstrate that Jesus successfully established a representative community that transformed how religious knowledge was preserved and transmitted. These practices reflect a movement oriented toward ongoing kingdom expansion rather than retrospectively addressing a failed apocalyptic prediction.

Ethical equality, addressing all community members as moral agents regardless of social status, represents another religious innovation that contradicts the Failure Objection. If Jesus had failed, one would anticipate his ethical teachings remaining theoretical constructs without practical implementation. Instead, historical evidence demonstrates a community that systematically reconfigured moral responsibility, applying consistent ethical standards to all members regardless of gender, social status, or ethnicity. This universal ethical framework, addressing wives alongside husbands, slaves alongside masters, and children alongside parents as moral agents, reflects not a failed apocalyptic vision but a successful kingdom implementation that transformed religious ethics at its foundations. The evidence indicates not failure but success in establishing a kingdom ethic that would ultimately reshape human moral consciousness.

The Failure Objection also fails to recognise that Jesus’ kingdom, while inaugurated in the first century, was explicitly designed to operate progressively through history rather than instantaneously through apocalyptic intervention. Jesus himself employed organic metaphors of growth—a mustard seed becoming a tree, leaven working through the dough—indicating a gradual, transformative process rather than a sudden cataclysm. The religious transformations documented by Hurtado demonstrate precisely this pattern: innovations that began as distinctive features of a small community gradually became normative across civilisation, reshaping how humanity conceives of and practices religion. This progressive transformation aligns with Jesus’ own descriptions of his kingdom’s operation, demonstrating not failure but success according to his own articulated criteria.

Moreover, the Failure Objection fails to account for why a purportedly failed apocalyptic prophet would generate a movement that transformed religious consciousness in ways that persist to the present day. If Jesus had indeed failed, his movement should have dissolved following his death, with adherents either abandoning their beliefs or reverting to traditional Jewish patterns. Instead, historical evidence demonstrates the emergence of distinctive religious innovations that fundamentally departed from established patterns, suggesting not failure but the successful establishment of a new religious framework based on Jesus’ continuing authority. The persistence and normalisation of these innovations across centuries and cultures provide substantial evidence against the Failure Objection, demonstrating that Jesus’ kingdom succeeded precisely as he intended: through cultural transformation rather than apocalyptic disruption.

The evidence of religious transformation thus demonstrates that the Failure Objection fundamentally misunderstands what constitutes ‘success’ for Jesus’ kingdom. It evaluates Jesus according to apocalyptic expectations when his actual mission involved establishing a representative community that would transform religious consciousness through cultural innovation rather than cosmic destruction. By establishing religious exclusivity, ethnic inclusivity, scriptural centricity, and ethical equality as normative features that have shaped religious practice across civilisations, Jesus demonstrated not failure but significant success in inaugurating a kingdom that operates through cultural transformation rather than apocalyptic intervention. The Failure Objection thus fails because it measures Jesus’ success by inapplicable criteria, misrepresenting the actual nature and operation of his kingdom as revealed in the historical evidence of religious transformation.

6.2. The Secular Aspect of the Kingdom and the Failure Objection

Jesus successfully initiated an ethical revolution that has fundamentally recalibrated civilisation’s moral frameworks in ways incompatible with the hypothesis of messianic failure. Hence, as with the religious aspect of the kingdom, the Failiure Objection fundamentally misinterprets the ethical character of the kingdom he established. The historical record of Western values development demonstrates that Jesus’ sovereignty operates principally through ethical innovation rather than, again, apocalyptic disruption, thus signifying not failure but an alternative form of success unrecognised by the objection’s limited evaluative framework.

First, the transformation of human dignity and rights provides compelling philosophical evidence contradicting the Failure Objection. Gregory of Nyssa’s revolutionary axiological proposition that slavery violated ‘a dignity that was properly the right of every man and woman’ represents a moral innovation of such philosophical significance that it defies categorisation as the by-product of a failed messianic project. If Jesus’ mission had indeed concluded in failure, moral philosophy would predict his ethical teachings remaining peripheral rather than fundamentally reshaping Western axiological frameworks regarding human worth. The systematic expansion of human rights—from abolition movements to universal dignity recognition—demonstrates not messianic failure but the successful establishment of a kingdom operating through moral transformation rather than apocalyptic intervention.

The objection erroneously overlooks that Jesus’ sovereignty manifests through the progressive implementation of axiological principles rather than immediate cosmic restructuring. Jesus himself articulated a developmental teleology for his kingdom—employing organic metaphors of growth rather than sudden apocalyptic language—thus indicating a gradual, transformative process. The historical evidence confirms precisely this developmental pattern: ethical principles introduced by Jesus and his early followers systematically reshaped Western moral consciousness over centuries, eventually becoming so thoroughly integrated into civilisation’s axiological frameworks that they appear self-evident even to those who explicitly reject their theological foundations. This progressive moral transformation aligns perfectly with Jesus’ own teleological descriptions of his kingdom’s operation, indicating not failure but success according to his own articulated criteria.

The development of compassion and social justice further invalidates the objection’s premise. The ‘sacralization of the victim’—attributing intrinsic value to suffering rather than power—represents an axiological inversion of such philosophical magnitude that it resists explanation as the product of a failed eschatological prediction. If Jesus’ mission had concluded in failure, moral historiography would predict his paradoxical teachings regarding suffering’s dignity being rejected rather than becoming foundational to Western moral frameworks. From martyrological interpretations of suffering to contemporary social justice movements’ identification with marginalised populations, this value inversion demonstrates not a failed messiah but a successful sovereign whose paradoxical authority through crucifixion has fundamentally recalibrated how civilisation conceptualises dignity, power, and justice.

Likewise, the development of rational inquiry and progress contradicts the objection’s fundamental assumption. If Jesus’ mission had terminated in failure, intellectual history would predict his movement retreating into obscurantism rather than providing philosophical foundations for systematic rational investigation. The historical evidence reveals that Christian intellectual traditions—from monastic educational systems to university development, from natural philosophy to Enlightenment scientific methodology—emerged from theological propositions about rational cosmic order and purposeful historical development. These intellectual innovations reflect not the desperate rationalisation of a failed movement but the methodical expression of a community operating under the conviction that Jesus’ kingdom advances through the rational understanding of created order.

The separation of religious and secular authority provides additional evidence contradicting the Failure Objection. Jesus’ political-theological principle to ‘Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s’ established a conceptual distinction that eventually crystallised in Western institutional arrangements separating ecclesiastical and state authority. This separation, formalised through medieval reform movements, represents not messianic failure but the successful implementation of Jesus’ kingdom principles regarding distinct spheres of divine and human authority. The evidence indicates not a failed apocalyptic prophet but a successful sovereign whose political-theological teaching has fundamentally recalibrated how civilisation conceptualises institutional authority.

Moreover, the objection fails to account for the universalisation of kingdom values beyond explicitly Christian contexts. If Jesus’ mission had concluded in failure, cultural historiography would predict his ethical framework remaining confined to his explicitly religious adherents rather than becoming normative across diverse civilisational contexts. The evidence demonstrates precisely the opposite: kingdom values have been so successfully integrated that they shape moral discourse even among those who reject their theological foundations, often under ostensibly neutral philosophical terminology such as ‘universal rights’ or ‘social justice’. This pattern demonstrates not failure but remarkable success in establishing a kingdom that transforms civilisation’s fundamental axiological frameworks rather than merely creating a separate religious community.

The persistence and normalisation of these value transformations across centuries and diverse cultural contexts provide substantial evidence contradicting the Failure Objection. If Jesus’ mission had terminated in failure, intellectual history would predict his moral vision fading into historical obscurity rather than exercising increasing influence. Instead, historical evidence demonstrates that kingdom values progressively reshape civilisation, often transcending explicitly religious contexts. From abolitionist movements to civil rights campaigns, from human rights discourse development to constitutional democracy establishment, the values that define Western civilisation and increasingly influence global moral frameworks demonstrate the undeniable influence of Jesus’ ethical vision. These developments resist categorisation as the legacy of a failed apocalyptic prophet; they constitute evidence for the successful establishment of a kingdom operating through moral transformation rather than apocalyptic disruption.

The evidence of values transformation thus reveals, as with the religious transformation inherent within society, that the Failure Objection fundamentally misunderstands what constitutes ‘success’ for Jesus’ kingdom. It evaluates messianic efficacy according to apocalyptic expectations when Jesus’ actual mission involved establishing a representative community that would transform civilisational values through moral innovation rather than cosmic destruction. By establishing human dignity, compassion, rational inquiry, and institutional separation as normative values that have shaped Western civilisation and increasingly influence global axiological frameworks, Jesus demonstrated not failure but substantial success in inaugurating a kingdom that operates through cultural transformation rather than apocalyptic intervention. The Failure Objection thus fails because it measures Jesus’ success by inappropriate criteria, fundamentally misinterpreting the actual nature and operation of his kingdom as revealed in the historical evidence of values transformation.

6.3. The Transformative Aspect of the Kingdom and the Failure Objection

In addition to all of the above, the Failure Objection also misconstrues the developmental nature of the kingdom Jesus inaugurated. Moreover, this critique incorrectly assesses the ‘new creation’ primarily through metrics of immediate cosmic replacement rather than gradual transformative renewal. Yet the statistical evidence of progressive human flourishing demonstrates that Jesus’ new creation operates through measurable developmental improvement rather than instantaneous cosmological destruction, indicating not failure but an alternative developmental trajectory unrecognised by the objection’s limited evaluative framework.

The quantifiable improvements in human health and longevity constitute substantial empirical evidence contradicting the Failure Objection. The systematic extension of global life expectancy—from approximately 30 years in the mid-18th century to approximately 71 years by 2015—represents a statistically significant reduction in mortality rates that defies categorisation as the aftermath of a failed messianic project. If Jesus’ mission had concluded in failure, developmental metrics would predict mortality, maintaining its historical dominance rather than exhibiting a systematic decline through human flourishing. This statistically significant reduction in premature mortality, while not instantaneous or comprehensive, nevertheless represents the successful implementation of Jesus’ kingdom vision of incrementally reversing death’s consequences through gradual transformation. The objection overlooks that Jesus’ kingdom, while initiated in the first century, was explicitly conceptualised to develop progressively through historical processes rather than instantaneously through apocalyptic intervention.

Similarly, the quantifiable reduction in extreme poverty—from 44 percent of global population in 1981 to under 10 percent by 2015—provides statistically significant evidence contradicting the Failure Objection. If Jesus’ mission had terminated in failure, economic metrics would predict material deprivation maintaining its historical prevalence rather than exhibiting a systematic decline through human flourishing. The KJH provides a coherent explanatory framework for this developmental pattern: Jesus inaugurated the kingdom and initiated a new creation that gradually transforms material conditions through the implementation of kingdom principles including compassion, stewardship, and human dignity. The objection overlooks that these quantifiable improvements align with Jesus’ own developmental descriptions of his kingdom as growing incrementally, like a mustard seed becoming a tree or leaven working through dough—organic metaphors indicating progressive transformation rather than sudden apocalypse.

The statistically significant decline in violent conflict further invalidates the objection’s premise. The ‘Long Peace’ that has demonstrated a systematic reduction in interstate wars and war-related fatalities—from approximately 22 deaths per 100,000 people annually during World War II to less than 1 per 100,000 in the early 21st century—represents measurable progress toward the kingdom value of peace. If Jesus’ mission had concluded in failure, conflict metrics would predict violence maintaining its historical frequency rather than exhibiting a systematic decline through human flourishing. This statistically significant pattern of decreasing violence, while incomplete, nevertheless represents the successful implementation of Jesus’ kingdom vision of peace gradually overcoming violence through cultural transformation. The objection overlooks that this progressive pacification aligns with Jesus’ paradoxical teaching that peace emerges not through military domination but through sacrificial love and enemy reconciliation.

The quantifiable expansion of democracy, rights, and knowledge provides additional empirical evidence contradicting the Failure Objection. The progressive increase in democratic governance—from a limited number of democracies at the beginning of the 20th century to more than half of all nations conducting multiparty elections in the contemporary period—represents measurable progress toward the kingdom value of human dignity. Similarly, the systematic growth in global literacy—from approximately 20 percent in the early 1800s to over 80 percent in the contemporary period—demonstrates statistically significant progress toward kingdom values of truth and understanding. If Jesus’ mission had terminated in failure, developmental metrics would predict human governance remaining predominantly autocratic and knowledge remaining predominantly restricted rather than exhibiting systematic expansion through human flourishing. These quantifiable improvements in human flourishing directly contradict the Failure Objection because they demonstrate that Jesus’ kingdom is successfully advancing precisely as he described: not through apocalyptic destruction but through gradual transformation. Jesus consistently employed developmental metaphors for his kingdom—seeds growing, dough rising, harvest approaching—indicating a progressive unfolding rather than instantaneous imposition. The measurable improvements in human flourishing provide empirical confirmation that this kingdom is indeed advancing as Jesus described, gradually overcoming death, scarcity, violence, and ignorance through the progressive implementation of kingdom values.

Moreover, the objection overlooks that these improvements represent empirical confirmation of biblical prophetic expectations regarding God’s Kingdom. Isaiah described a developmental kingdom where ‘they will build houses and dwell in them; they will plant vineyards and eat their fruit’ (Isaiah 65:21)—a vision of material flourishing that corresponds with the statistical reduction in extreme poverty. Similarly, the prophetic vision of beating ‘swords into plowshares’ (Isaiah 2:4) aligns with the empirical decline in warfare, while the statement that ‘the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea’ (Isaiah 11:9) corresponds to the statistical expansion of knowledge and literacy. These prophetic expectations are not being negated by empirical reality but progressively fulfilled through human flourishing, directly contradicting the objection’s central premise.

The objection also overlooks that Jesus explicitly articulated a ‘now and not yet’ developmental framework for his kingdom. He stated that ‘the kingdom of God has come upon you’ (Matthew 12:28) while also instructing disciples to pray ‘your kingdom come’ (Matthew 6:10), indicating a kingdom simultaneously present and future, inaugurated but not yet consummated. The statistical evidence of progressive human flourishing confirms precisely this developmental pattern: a kingdom genuinely present and measurably advancing through history, yet still moving toward future consummation. The objection erroneously assumes that authentic kingship requires immediate consummation, when Jesus himself articulated a pattern of gradual implementation through historical processes.

Furthermore, the objection overlooks that empirical flourishing represents the successful implementation of Jesus’ creation mandate through his kingdom community. In the biblical narrative, humans were originally commissioned as ‘royal stewards’ to ‘fill the earth and subdue it’ (Genesis 1:28)—a vocation to develop creation’s potential for flourishing. Jesus’ kingdom, by restoring humans to their proper relationship with God through the defeat of sin, progressively enables the fulfilment of this original vocation. The measurable improvements in human flourishing thus represent the successful advancement of Jesus’ kingdom purpose: restoring humanity to its intended vocation as royal stewards of creation. The objection misses this connection between kingdom and creation, failing to recognise that human flourishing itself constitutes evidence of kingdom success rather than failure.

The quantifiable evidence of progressive human flourishing thus reveals, as with the evidence featured in the previous stages, that the Failure Objection fundamentally misunderstands what constitutes ‘success’ for Jesus’ kingdom, as Jesus’ actual mission involved inaugurating the kingdom and launching the new creation that would gradually transform human flourishing through progressive implementation rather than instantaneous replacement. By establishing measurable improvements in health, prosperity, peace, and knowledge, Jesus demonstrated not failure but significant success in inaugurating a kingdom that operates through transformative renewal rather than apocalyptic destruction. The Failure Objection thus fails because it measures Jesus’ success by inapplicable metrics, fundamentally misinterpreting the actual nature and operation of his kingdom as revealed in the empirical evidence of human flourishing.

6.4. The Historical Trajectory and Geographic Expansion of the Kingdom

Having thoroughly examined the evidence for Jesus’ kingship across religious, secular, and transformative dimensions, and having demonstrated the failure of the Failure Objection through historically verifiable data, we can now turn to the practical implications of the KJG for contemporary Christian praxis. If Jesus is indeed the king who has inaugurated God’s Kingdom on earth and launched the new creation, this truth carries profound implications for how Christians understand their mission in the twenty-first century. Our analysis has demonstrated that the kingdom Jesus inaugurated has not remained static or failed but has dynamically expanded through history via the community he established, transforming religious consciousness, ethical frameworks, and human flourishing in measurable ways. Yet this transformation has manifested unevenly across global contexts, with the Western world experiencing more pronounced kingdom effects than many Eastern societies. This geographical disparity highlights the ongoing nature of the kingdom’s expansion and the continued responsibility of Jesus’ representative community to proclaim and implement his kingship in all spheres of human existence and across all cultural contexts.

The predominant manifestation of kingdom transformation in Western contexts is not arbitrary but reflects the historical trajectory of the gospel’s spread from its Palestinian origins. Within the first century, the apostolic proclamation of Jesus’ kingship spread systematically throughout the Roman Empire, establishing communities of kingdom allegiance in urban centres from Jerusalem to Rome. The Book of Acts chronicles this deliberate expansion from Jerusalem to Judea and Samaria, and eventually to ‘the ends of the earth’ (Acts 1:8)—a phrase that, within the first-century Jewish imagination, encompassed the boundaries of the Roman world. The Apostle Paul’s missionary journeys strategically targeted provincial capitals and commercial hubs across Asia Minor, Greece, and eventually, Rome itself, establishing kingdom outposts in urban centres with extensive trade networks that facilitated further gospel dissemination. This initial Roman-centric expansion established the geographical foundation for what would become Western Christendom, with the gospel message spreading along Roman roads, flourishing within Roman urban centres, and eventually transforming Roman institutions after Constantine’s conversion in the fourth century.

This Roman foundation proved decisive for subsequent kingdom expansion throughout the first millennium. As Roman civil structures declined in Western Europe following barbarian invasions, Christian monastic communities preserved literacy, learning, and kingdom values while simultaneously evangelising Germanic, Celtic, and Slavic peoples. The Christianisation of Western and Northern Europe throughout the early medieval period extended the geographic scope of Jesus’ kingdom while simultaneously transferring its religious and ethical distinctives into new cultural contexts. This millennial process of cultural engagement, translation, and transformation established Christian thought frameworks as the intellectual foundation of Western civilisation—explaining why the kingdom effects we documented earlier manifested most pronouncedly in regions directly shaped by this historical process. The Western location of the kingdom’s most visible effects thus reflects not cultural or racial superiority but simply the historical reality of how Jesus’ message spread geographically during the first millennium of church history, becoming thoroughly embedded within Western institutional and intellectual frameworks.

The apostles themselves, as the foundational members of the representative community established by Jesus, understood their mission in explicitly universal terms while acknowledging its progressive implementation. When Jesus commissioned his followers as witnesses ‘to the ends of the earth’ (Acts 1:8), this phrase carried both geographic and eschatological significance—encompassing both the Roman world of their immediate mission and the ultimate global scope of the kingdom. The apostolic community systematically implemented this commission across the known world of their time, establishing kingdom outposts in Jerusalem, Antioch, Ephesus, Philippi, Corinth, Rome, and countless other cities across the Mediterranean basin. By the late first century, Christian communities existed in most provinces of the Roman Empire, with archaeological and textual evidence confirming Christian presence from Britain to Persia. This remarkable geographic expansion testifies to the apostles’ understanding of Jesus’ kingdom as universal in scope, demanding proclamation across all cultural and ethnic boundaries of their known world.

Yet the apostles also recognised that this initial expansion represented merely the beginning of the kingdom’s ultimate geographic scope. The Apostle Paul’s unrealised ambition to proclaim the gospel in Spain (Romans 15:24) and the church’s continued expansion beyond Roman boundaries in subsequent centuries demonstrate awareness that the known world of apostolic times did not encompass the full extent of human habitation. The apostolic community established patterns of kingdom proclamation that subsequent generations would extend beyond Roman boundaries—first to Mesopotamia, Armenia, and Ethiopia; later to Germanic and Slavic territories; eventually to Nordic and Baltic regions; and finally, following the age of exploration, to continents entirely unknown in apostolic times. This progressive geographic expansion across two millennia actualises the universal scope inherent in Jesus’ kingdom from its inception, demonstrating that the apostolic commission was not historically bounded but remains ongoing until the kingdom encompasses all peoples and territories.

6.5. The Contemporary Mission: Reclaiming and Extending the Kingdom

This historical understanding establishes a clear challenge for contemporary communities of kingdom allegiance. Just as the apostolic community faithfully proclaimed Jesus’ kingship throughout their known world, today’s kingdom communities face the challenge of continuing this proclamation across what remained the unknown world during apostolic times—particularly the vast regions of East Asia, South Asia, and parts of Africa where kingdom transformation remains less pronounced. The geographic disparity in kingdom manifestation does not reflect failure but incompletion—the unfinished implementation of a commission that, by definition, encompasses all peoples and territories. This understanding provides both motivation and direction for the contemporary mission, grounding it firmly in the apostolic precedent while acknowledging the distinctive challenges of cross-cultural engagement in diverse Eastern contexts where the kingdom remains less established.

In elucidating all of this now more fully, one can understand that this uneven manifestation of kingdom transformation raises important questions about the contemporary proclamation of the KJG. Our analysis revealed that distinctively Christian conceptions of religious exclusivity, ethnic inclusivity, scriptural centricity, and ethical equality have become normative in Western contexts to such an extent that they are often taken for granted even in post-Christian settings. Similarly, we witnessed how kingdom values of human dignity, compassion, rational inquiry, and institutional separation have shaped Western civilisation so fundamentally that they appear self-evident to contemporary observers, despite their radical departure from pre-Christian norms. Finally, we observed how these kingdom values, translated through Enlightenment frameworks, have produced measurable progress in human flourishing across dimensions of health, wealth, peace, and knowledge. These transformations provide compelling evidence for Jesus’ effective kingship, yet they have primarily manifested within Western civilisation’s sphere of influence, leaving vast portions of humanity relatively untouched by these kingdom effects. This disparity points not to the failure of Jesus’ kingship but to the incomplete implementation of his kingdom programme—a situation that calls for a renewed commitment to the global proclamation of the KJG.

The apostolic community’s universal commission provides the foundation for this global kingdom vision. When Jesus declared, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations’ (Matthew 28:18–19), he established an explicit connection between his universal authority as king and the global mandate of his representative community. This commission was not geographically constrained but explicitly universal in scope: ‘You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth’ (Acts 1:8). The early Christian community immediately began implementing this global vision, with the Apostle Paul deliberately targeting strategic urban centres across the Mediterranean world and establishing communities that transcended ethnic, social, and gender boundaries. This first-century kingdom expansion deliberately pushed beyond cultural and geographical constraints, demonstrating the universal scope of Jesus’ kingship from the earliest days of the church. The contemporary proclamation of the KJG requires no less geographic ambition, as Jesus’ kingship by definition encompasses all peoples and cultures. This global kingdom vision finds further support in the Old Testament prophetic tradition that informed Jesus’ own self-understanding and mission. Isaiah envisioned a time when ‘all the ends of the earth will see the salvation of our God’ (Isaiah 52:10) and when God’s servant would be ‘a light for the Gentiles, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth’ (Isaiah 49:6). The prophet Habakkuk similarly foresaw that ‘the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the LORD as the waters cover the sea’ (Habakkuk 2:14). These prophetic images of universal divine recognition provide the background for Jesus’ own teaching that ‘this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come’ (Matthew 24:14). In this light, the empirical evidence we have examined of kingdom transformation in Western contexts represents not the completion of Jesus’ kingdom programme but merely its initial stages—the first fruits of a harvest that ultimately encompasses all humanity. The geographical disparity in kingdom manifestation thus constitutes not evidence against Jesus’ kingship but rather a call to his representative community to continue implementing his kingdom vision in contexts where its effects remain less pronounced.

The distinct patterns of religious development across Eastern and Western civilisations highlight this incomplete kingdom implementation. While Western religious consciousness has been fundamentally shaped by the Christian innovations we examined in Section 3.1—religious exclusivity, ethnic inclusivity, scriptural centricity, and ethical equality—many Eastern religious traditions have developed along different trajectories. Hinduism maintains a fundamentally different approach to religious identity, where dharma remains interconnected with ethnic and familial identity rather than functioning as a matter of personal choice and universal application. Buddhism, while sharing some ethical commonalities with Christianity, operates from different metaphysical premises regarding the nature of self and reality. Confucian traditions emphasise harmony and hierarchy in ways that sometimes tension with the egalitarian thrust of kingdom ethics. These distinct religious frameworks shape Eastern approaches to social organisation, ethical reasoning, and human flourishing in ways that sometimes diverge significantly from the kingdom values that have transformed Western consciousness. This cultural and religious divergence suggests that the full manifestation of Jesus’ kingdom remains incomplete, with significant portions of humanity still operating according to pre-kingdom paradigms rather than the revolutionary values he inaugurated.

This observation requires careful nuance to avoid cultural imperialism or simplistic triumphalism. The recognition that Jesus’ kingdom has manifested more visibly in Western contexts does not imply the cultural or moral superiority of Western civilisation. Indeed, Western societies have often implemented kingdom values inconsistently or hypocritically, using Christian language to justify conquest, exploitation, and oppression—practices that directly contradict Jesus’ kingdom ethic. Moreover, Eastern civilisations possess wisdom traditions, social virtues, and cultural achievements that Western societies would do well to appreciate and learn from. The aim in highlighting this geographical disparity is not to disparage Eastern cultures but to recognise the objective historical fact that the distinctive religious and ethical innovations inaugurated by Jesus’ kingdom have influenced Western development more directly and extensively than Eastern development. This recognition lays the groundwork for understanding how the continued proclamation of the KJG might respectfully engage Eastern contexts without either imposing Western cultural forms or diluting kingdom distinctive.

The Apostle Paul provides a model for contextual kingdom proclamation that respects cultural diversity while maintaining kingdom distinctiveness. In Athens, Paul engaged Epicurean and Stoic philosophers using conceptual language they could understand, quoting their own poets and acknowledging their religious seeking, yet without compromising the distinctive kingdom message of Jesus’ resurrection and lordship (Acts 17:16–34). In Corinth, Paul became ‘all things to all people’ in order to ‘save some’ (1 Corinthians 9:22), demonstrating cultural flexibility in service of kingdom proclamation. This Pauline approach suggests that contemporary kingdom witnesses should likewise engage Eastern contexts with cultural sensitivity and intellectual respect, finding conceptual bridges where possible while maintaining the distinctive claims of Jesus’ kingship. Such engagement requires a deep understanding of Eastern cultural and religious frameworks, patient dialogue across worldview differences, and humble recognition of the partial and progressive nature of kingdom implementation. This approach rejects both cultural imperialism which would simply impose Western forms and relativistic pluralism which would abandon distinctive kingdom claims in the name of tolerance.

While kingdom proclamation necessarily involves verbal witness to Jesus’ kingship, its implementation extends far beyond mere verbal assent to propositional truths. As our analysis demonstrated, Jesus’ kingdom transforms religious consciousness, ethical frameworks, social structures, and material conditions in concrete, measurable ways. Thus, the contemporary implementation of the KJG in Eastern contexts should likewise address multiple dimensions of human experience. This includes establishing communities of kingdom allegiance that embody distinctive kingdom ethics; developing educational, medical, and social institutions that concretely manifest kingdom values; engaging intellectual and cultural leaders in substantive dialogue about ultimate questions; and advocating for political and economic systems that honour human dignity and promote flourishing. The kingdom proclamation envisioned by the KJG is holistic rather than reductionistic, addressing the full spectrum of human needs and potential rather than merely focusing on individual spiritual experience or afterlife destiny.

6.6. The Eschatological Vision and Ultimate Aim of the King Jesus Gospel

The distinctive nature of the KJG offers both challenges and opportunities for such holistic proclamation in pluralistic Eastern contexts. Unlike various forms of religious syncretism that simply absorb diverse beliefs into an undifferentiated spiritual marketplace, the KJG makes the exclusive claim that Jesus is the king whose authority encompasses all dimensions of reality. This exclusivity inevitably generates tension with both traditional religious frameworks and contemporary pluralistic assumptions. Yet paradoxically, the KJG’s exclusivity grounds its remarkable inclusivity: because Jesus is the king of all reality, his kingdom communities transcend ethnic, social, and gender divisions in ways that purely tribal or national religious frameworks cannot. This combination of theological exclusivity with social inclusivity creates a distinctive community witness that can potentially address both traditional hierarchies and modern atomisation—offering belonging without tribalism and truth without imperialism. The challenge lies in articulating this distinctive kingdom vision in ways that Eastern audiences can understand while resisting the temptation to dilute its radical claims to make it more palatable to contemporary sensibilities. The eschatological vision of universal kingdom recognition provides the ultimate horizon for this global proclamation effort. The Apostle Paul envisions a culmination where ‘at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father’ (Philippians 2:10–11). Similarly, Revelation depicts representatives ‘from every nation, tribe, people and language’ (Revelation 7:9) acknowledging Jesus’ lordship. This eschatological vision suggests that the kingdom’s transformative effects will ultimately encompass all cultural contexts, not by erasing cultural distinctives but by bringing them under Jesus’ lordship. In this light, the geographic disparity in the current kingdom manifestation represents not a permanent division but a temporary phase in the progressive expansion of Jesus’ kingdom toward its ultimate consummation. The contemporary proclamation of the KJG thus participates in this eschatological movement toward universal kingdom recognition, working within history toward a fulfilment that transcends history. This eschatological framework provides both motivation and patience for contemporary kingdom witnesses. On one hand, it establishes the certainty of ultimate kingdom success, encouraging faithful proclamation even amid apparent setbacks or resistance. On the other hand, it acknowledges the partial and progressive nature of kingdom manifestation within history, fostering patience with the inevitably slow and complex process of cultural transformation. As our historical analysis demonstrated, the kingdom values inaugurated by Jesus required centuries to substantially transform Western consciousness and institutions; similar patience will likely be necessary as kingdom values engage Eastern contexts. This eschatological perspective maintains the tension between the ‘already’ of Jesus’ Kingdom inauguration and the ‘not yet’ of its complete manifestation—a tension that preserves both confidence in Jesus’ kingship and humility about human ability to fully implement his kingdom within history.

A parallel challenge exists within Western societies themselves, where Jesus’ kingdom values have become deeply embedded in cultural, legal, and ethical frameworks even as an explicit acknowledgement of his kingship has declined. This creates the paradoxical situation where Western individuals live within societies profoundly shaped by Jesus’ kingdom—benefiting from its values of human dignity, compassion, rational inquiry, and institutional separation—while remaining unaware of or actively rejecting the king whose sovereignty established these values. The secular Westerner who advocates for universal human rights, scientific progress, social justice, and democratic governance is unwittingly implementing values that emerged from Jesus’ kingdom, yet without recognising their true source or acknowledging the king who inaugurated them. This represents not the failure of Jesus’ kingship but rather its remarkable success in transforming civilisational values so completely that they now appear self-evident rather than distinctively Christian. The representative community thus faces a dual task: not only extending kingdom proclamation to Eastern contexts where its effects remain less pronounced, but also reclaiming kingdom awareness within Western contexts where individuals operate according to kingdom values without acknowledging their king. The proclamation of the KJG within increasingly post-Christian Western societies thus involves helping individuals recognise the historical and theological foundations of the very values they cherish—revealing the king who has been reigning among them unacknowledged, like the God whom Paul declared to the Athenians they had been worshipping as ‘unknown’ (Acts 17:23). This task requires not only cross-cultural competence for engaging Eastern contexts but also counter-cultural courage for challenging Western assumptions about the supposedly secular origins of their most cherished values.

The ultimate aim of the KJG is nothing less than the complete alignment of human society with the values, principles, and purposes of Jesus’ kingdom across all cultural contexts and spheres of life. As the Apostle Paul articulated, God’s purpose is that ‘in the dispensation of the fullness of the times He might gather together in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven and which are on earth—in Him’ (Ephesians 1:10, NKJV). This cosmic vision of everything being ‘summed up’ or ‘brought under the headship’ of Christ provides the comprehensive scope for understanding the KJG’s aim. It encompasses not merely individual salvation or afterlife destiny, but the redemption and restoration of all dimensions of human existence—religious, cultural, intellectual, social, economic, political, and environmental. The evidence we have examined of kingdom transformation in Western contexts represents the first fruits of this comprehensive restoration—concrete manifestations of what it means for human society to acknowledge Jesus as king and align with the new creation he launched.

The importance of the KJG thus lies in its comprehensive account of reality and human flourishing. By proclaiming Jesus as the king who has inaugurated God’s Kingdom on earth, launched the new creation, and established a representative community to continue his work, the KJG provides an integrated framework for understanding history, ethics, society, and human purpose. Its religious distinctives create communities that transcend tribal boundaries while maintaining moral conviction; its ethical framework establishes human dignity while demanding responsible stewardship; its intellectual heritage promotes rational inquiry while recognising the limitations of human knowledge; its social vision cultivates both individual freedom and communal responsibility. The empirical evidence we have examined demonstrates that these kingdom values, when implemented, produce measurable improvements in human flourishing across multiple dimensions—suggesting that Jesus’ kingship is not merely a theological claim but a practical reality with concrete implications for human well-being.

The continued importance of the KJG in contemporary society lies precisely in its unique combination of exclusive truth claims with inclusive social vision, moral conviction with compassionate practice, and divine authority with human flourishing. In an age of competing fundamentalisms and relativistic pluralism, tribal division and atomistic individualism, callous materialism and escapist spirituality, the KJG offers a distinctive third way—a comprehensive vision of reality centred on the person and work of Jesus that addresses both the spiritual and material dimensions of human existence. The evidence we have examined suggests that implementing this vision produces societies characterised by dignity, compassion, knowledge, and flourishing—precisely what we would expect if Jesus truly is the king who inaugurated God’s Kingdom and launched the new creation. The ultimate aim of the KJG is to extend these kingdom effects to all peoples and cultures, not through cultural imperialism but through faithful witness to Jesus’ kingship that respectfully engages diverse contexts while maintaining kingdom distinctives.

In all, our analysis has demonstrated that the KJG provides a compelling framework for understanding both the historical evidence of kingdom transformation and the contemporary mission of Jesus’ representative community. By positioning Jesus as the king who has inaugurated God’s Kingdom, launched the new creation, and established a representative community to continue his work, the KJG explains the distinctive religious, ethical, and social innovations that have measurably improved human flourishing across multiple dimensions. While these kingdom effects have manifested more extensively in Western contexts, the universal scope of Jesus’ kingship demands continued kingdom proclamation and implementation in Eastern contexts where its effects remain less pronounced. This global kingdom vision provides the ultimate horizon for Christian mission—participating in the progressive expansion of Jesus’ kingdom until it encompasses all peoples and cultures, bringing the new creation to fuller realisation and fulfilling the prophetic vision that ‘the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the LORD as the waters cover the sea’ (Habakkuk 2:14). The evidence we have examined gives confidence that this vision is not merely wishful thinking but the unfolding reality of history under the sovereignty of King Jesus, whose kingdom continues to advance not through apocalyptic destruction but through the faithful witness of his representative community across time and space.

7. Conclusions

In conclusion, the King Jesus Hypothesis provides a powerful explanatory framework for understanding the transformative impact of Jesus’ ministry throughout history. Examination of multiple lines of evidence indicates that Jesus successfully inaugurated God’s Kingdom through a process of cultural transformation rather than direct apocalyptic intervention. The analysis began with the King Jesus Gospel concept and the Failure Objection, a challenge positing that Jesus’ kingship is invalid due to unfulfilled apocalyptic predictions. The methodology employed, the Criterion of Predictive Power, led to the formulation of the King Jesus Hypothesis: that Jesus initiated God’s Kingdom and launched the new creation through his life, death, and resurrection, establishing a representative community to continue his work. Subsequent exploration substantiated this hypothesis by analysing significant historical shifts. Four religious transformations identified by Larry Hurtado—religious exclusivity, ethnic inclusivity, scriptural centricity, and ethical equality—demonstrate revolutionary innovations radically departing from Roman norms, best explained by Jesus’ successful kingdom inauguration. Further support comes from Tom Holland’s identification of four distinctive Western societal values—human dignity, compassion, rational inquiry, and institutional separation—which originated from Jesus’ kingdom vision and fundamentally reshaped civilisation’s moral frameworks. Additionally, five dimensions of human progress documented by Steven Pinker—including the foundation of Enlightenment principles, improvements in health, economic prosperity, peace, and the expansion of knowledge—reveal measurable improvements in human flourishing consistent with the transformative impact of Jesus’ kingdom working through historical processes. The implications for contemporary proclamation were also considered, acknowledging the substantial yet incomplete implementation of the kingdom, particularly comparing Western and Eastern contexts. The presented evidence suggests that the Failure Objection fundamentally misunderstands Jesus’ kingship by applying inappropriate criteria based on expectations of apocalyptic intervention. The hypothesis contends that Jesus intended his kingdom to manifest primarily through progressive cultural transformation, gradually reshaping human societies. The historical transformations documented confirm that such a process was indeed initiated, yielding results that would be inexplicable if Jesus’ mission had failed. Hence, by recognising Jesus as the king who has inaugurated God’s Kingdom on earth, we gain a coherent framework for interpreting the past, navigating the present, and anticipating the future—one that integrates spiritual truth with material transformation and offers a distinctive alternative to both relativistic pluralism and rigid fundamentalism. The evidence confirms that this kingdom vision, when implemented, produces measurable human flourishing—precisely what we would expect if Jesus truly is king.