Much of Jesus’ Galilean ministry centred on Capernaum, so it comes as something of a shock to hear him denounce the city in rather forthright terms while things still appear to be going well. Admittedly, a warning note is struck early on when the faith of the centurion is taken as an ominous sign that “the sons of the kingdom will be thrown into outer darkness” (Matt. 8:12). But by chapter 11 he appears to have written the place off completely.

I have argued that a “day of the Lord” in biblical terms happens not at the end of history but in history. It is a day when the God of Israel steps in to “judge” or “put right” a bad situation—to punish impiety and injustice, to deliver his people from their enemies, to re-establish his reputation among the nations, and so on. There is not one final day of the Lord, there are only days of the Lord—and we may be long overdue for one.

In the popular Christian mind any reference to the “day of the Lord” or the “day of judgment” is likely to be conceived in final terms, as a transcendent event at the end of history. So when Paul says to the men of Athens that God has “fixed a day on which he will judge the world” (Acts 17:31), it is usually assumed, despite the narrative context, that he has in mind a judgment of all humanity, not just of the Greek-Roman civilisation that is so visible in Luke’s account. Let’s have a look, then, at the use of the phrase “day of the Lord” and a few related expressions in scripture.

Where is God in a Coronavirus World? is really a piece of old school—the old “school” of C.S. Lewis—apologetics reworked for the COVID-19 era. This slight and simple book “concentrates on the problem of natural evil,” John Lennox says. In a time of crisis we look for solace and hope. Where are we going to find it? Atheism cannot help because it can provide no rational basis for morality. “If… there is no God, and therefore there are no transcendent values, then how can there be any objective standard of good?”

Jesus is teaching in the temple (Mk. 12:35-37). He poses a question: “How can the scribes say that the Christ is the son of David?” After all, David himself said in the Holy Spirit, ‘The Lord said to my Lord, “Sit at my right hand, until I put your enemies under your feet.”’ Jesus has taken Psalm 110 to be the work of David, not a piece of court poetry written about David. So “my Lord” must be a reference to the Christ, who seemingly cannot be David’s son.

The letter to the Hebrews is a Jewish-Christian text, perhaps an exclusively Jewish-Christian text. At its theological core is the argument that Jesus has become their heavenly high priest. But he is a high priest “after the order of Melchizedek,” which means that he is not only a priest, he is also a king (Heb. 5:6, 10; 6:20; 7:1, 11, 15). This is the point that is made in the opening passage (Heb. 1:1-2:9).