
The Theological Accommodation of Time and Transition
- John Bost
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read
I'll warn you up from, this Saturday read is lengthy, more like an epistle than some brief blog post.
This morning as I journeyed deeper into the Torah, the Law of God as captured in the Pentateuch, mid-Numbers in my annual read, the timing is staggering, given the real time transistions in my own life.
I am composing one blog at a time, what may be the last of my writings, all seemingly progressive and prophetic since "Repo, The Church in Foreclosure".
This upcoming book, the sixth, seems to tie all those past writings as brief windows of spiritual understanding over my 78 years. Hopefully one day to be more thoroughly explored by my offspring, even six or seven generations downline!
As I have shared before, this total transparency often sounds arrogant, though processing online seems of benefit to me...the transparency demanded of my spirit keeps me honest with what scripture speaks as it "reads me!"
The Bible, both Old and New Testaments seems to run along two parallel tracks. One track is theological, communicating who this Being is that sits among the billions of galaxies!
The other captures humanity, and of necessity, affords sufficient timing and clarity for critical and yet massive generational transitions.
Our humanity limits God's revelation!
Yet our reaction to that revelation powerfully determines our life impact, though numerous generations will likely pass before their full manifestation.
Your life matters!
If you are one of the few that my writings have attracted, you well know that over fifty years have passed since I first began this disciplined read of scripture. Thus it should be of little surprise that as I move through the text, it is from a 30,000 feet view!
The eventual exile of Israel, which did not catch The I Am off guard, would create a theological crisis that the Law alone could not resolve. Leviticus had taught Israel to sanctify time through festivals, while Numbers reiterated how this prescribed sanctity would be maintained through repetition and sacrifice.
Yet, exile soon stripped Israel of the very mechanisms that made festival observance possible. There was no temple, no altar, and no national liturgy. Sacred time remained—but without sacred space.
The Book of Daniel emerges precisely at this fault line. Therein, Daniel does not attempt to restore the cult. Instead, he reframes time itself. The appointed festivals (moedim, a Hebrew word meaning "appointed times, seasons, or sacred assemblies") of Leviticus are transformed into appointed ends.
Cyclical remembrance gives way to directed expectation. History is no longer marked merely by repetition, but by movement toward divine resolution.
Daniel’s visions well before their reality, introduce a decisive theological development: God’s dwelling with humanity will no longer depend upon ritual repetition, but upon the installation of a representative human figure—the Son of Man—who receives an everlasting kingdom.
Do you sense my excitement!
What the Feast of Tabernacles symbolized, and what Numbers maintained through sacrifice, Daniel projects forward into eschatological fulfillment.
In this way, Daniel functions as the indispensable bridge between Torah and Gospel. He explains why Jesus arrives when He does, why He claims the title Son of Man, and why the sacrificial system can cease without invalidating the Law. Daniel does not negate sacred time; he reveals its destination.
Without Daniel, the festivals dissolve abruptly in the New Testament. With Daniel, they arrive precisely where they were always heading.
The New Testament reveals why this tension exists.
In John’s Gospel, Jesus appears at the Feast of Tabernacles and announces that He Himself is the source of living water and divine light. What was once symbolized through booths and offerings is now embodied in a person.
The festival reaches its fulfillment not through increased ritual, but through incarnation.
Finally, in Revelation, the Feast of Tabernacles disappears—not because it failed, but because it succeeded. God’s dwelling with humanity is no longer commemorated; it is complete.
Leviticus had served to teach both us and Israel why God redeems, Numbers teaches them how long shadows must be borne, and Christ reveals what the shadows were always pointing toward.
All this just behind a morning read honoring the work of Winston-Salem's own Dr. Anthony Atala, himself of Lebanese descent, now 20 years into the development of 3D printing of kidneys, yes, human organs, using a patient's cells rather than conventional ink!! Think of that!!
Where are we headed as humans in the next age "should the Lord tarry", words long engraved in my mind now for over three quarters of a century.







This is deep reading from only the writings of a prophet
This is deep reading from only the writings of a prophet