Collin Cornell is Assistant Professor of Bible and Mission at Fuller Theological Seminary. He is also active in the Society for Post-Supersessionist Theology. In God Draws Near,Cornell challenges the prevailing “dramatic paradigm” in the biblical theology of mission, particularly the “intellectual infrastructure” that views the Bible as one overarching story encapsulated by the plotline of creation, fall, redemption, and restoration. Fundamental in Cornell’s approach is de-centering the theme of “repair,” which he argues is axiomatic to the dramatic paradigm and ultimately results in “obsolescence” for Israel and Christ’s incarnation. For Cornell, these approaches to Scripture end in anti-Judaism and supersessionism; only a “geometric Bible” and re-centering mission around “divine communion” can correct these anti-Jewish ways of interpreting Scripture. He is attempting “a postsupersessionist and supralapsarian biblical theology of mission … that refuses obsolescence with regard to Israel and the Incarnation” (p. 16). How does he achieve this?

Methodologically, Cornell acknowledges the contributions of several critical scholars to his own thinking and to proponents of the dramatic paradigm. Brevard Childs was influential in Cornell’s moving from a unilinear Bible interpreted within the framework of salvation-history toward a geometric Bible.

Chapter 1 examines the scholarship of three contemporary exemplars of the dramatic paradigm—Arthur Glaser, Christopher Wright, and Michael Goheen. Cornell argues that their use of Genesis 12:1–3 is influenced by Gerhard von Rad, who enables them to construe the Bible’s story as moving from the universal horizons of primeval history in Genesis 1–11 to the particularity of God’s choice of Abraham and Israel for humanity’s redemption, a choice rooted in instrumentality and eventual obsolescence.

Following the scholarship of Kenneth Soulen and Charles van Driel, chapter 2 argues that if one believes Israel’s calling obsolesces (per his reading of the dramatic paradigm), then it follows that the incarnation will also obsolesce. Structurally important for Cornell’s critique of Genesis 12:1–3 as the spinal cord of the dramatic paradigm is von Rad’s belief that Abraham’s calling was a late addition to the text of Genesis by the Yahwist.

In defense of a geometric Bible, Cornell turns in chapter 3 to the Song of Songs and Rabbinic insights about the tabernacle with the tamīd offering (i.e., “perpetual offering”) at its center. Ancient rabbis saw God seeking communion with Israel by means of the tabernacle, and this vision converges in the Song of Songs so that, per Cornell, the tabernacle texts form “the center of Torah” (pp. 89–90). As a result, in chapter 4, Cornell argues for re-reading Genesis 12 in a way similar to the priestly blessing in Numbers 6, a tabernacle text focused solely on Israel.

Following Rashi, Cornell argues that the main verb of Genesis 12:3, nivrechū, should be understood reflexively not passively—all families of the earth will bless themselves by observing Abraham’s example; they will not be blessed (instrumentally) by or through Abraham/Israel. The gist of this move is that both Numbers 6 and Genesis 12 are Israel-focused and not focused on the families/nations of the earth—“Meeting Israel, blessing Israel, is God’s original creation purpose” (p. 125).

In chapter 5, Cornell couples his Israel-centric interpretive framework with a supralapsarian Christology. By placing God’s decision to become incarnate prior to the fall, Cornell aims to prevent the incarnation from obsolescing. He concludes the book by arguing that the tabernacle and incarnation are dual ultimacies, resulting in a more positive understanding of Israel. The dramatic paradigm’s view that God’s mission is to restore creation and redeem humanity is reversed per Cornell’s geometric Bible: “Instead of a gentile-centric Bible, this book presents an Israel-centric Bible” (p. 174).

Several observations are pertinent in evaluating Cornell’s book and its attack on a coherent, story-structured, biblical theology of mission. First, Cornell is right to emphasize divine communion as ultimate and repair as instrumental. In many ways, this parallels John Piper’s theocentric view of mission in Let the Nations Be Glad.

Second, while arguing for a geometric Bible, Cornell frequently invokes the Enlightenment and antisemitism as factors underpinning a unilinear Bible, divine repair, universality/particularity, instrumentality, and obsolescence. Indeed, Cornell’s theological commitments on these issues drive his whole hermeneutic, including his selective appropriation of the speculations of historical critics that advance his agenda. This is particularly acute as it relates to Genesis 12:3. Cornell’s argument depends on critical scholarship’s assertion that Genesis 12:3 is the work of a redactor, the Yawhist, and a reflexive interpretation of the main verb, nivrechū. On this last point, he cites “ancient rabbis” while ignoring the more ancient Jewish translations/interpretations of nivrechū as passive found in the LXX, Targum Onkelos, and the NT (cf. Paul in Gal 3:8 and Peter in Acts 3:25).

Third, like most dispensational and post-supersessionist scholars, Cornell essentializes Jewish identity by fixing it at the time of the patriarchs and viewing it as static throughout history. Moreover, he conflates Jewish identity with adherence to Rabbinic Judaism, a contested association among Jews for centuries.

Fourth, Cornell draws on Rabbinic insights to argue that the tabernacle is the center of Torah. In doing so, he ignores the more ancient and authoritative Jewish teaching that Jesus is the center of Torah (cf. Luke 24:27, 44; John 5:39).

Fifth, Cornell fails to address the idea of OT typologies being fulfilled in the NT, which accounts for his anemic engagement with the NT. This is especially the case with several texts that challenge his proposal, including Galatians 3, Ephesians 2, Colossians 1:20, Hebrews, and 1 Peter 2:4–9.

Sixth, Cornell’s treatment of repair completely ignores the wealth of Jewish theological reflection on the theme of tikkun olam (i.e., “repairing the world”), which is often tied to Genesis 12:3.

Seventh, Cornell’s biblical theology seems to make obsolete the sole entity that Jesus established as the instrument by which all people would experience God’s blessing—the church (Matt 16:18; Eph 2:20; 1 Pet 2:4–6).

Finally, and most seriously, are the soteriological implications of Cornell’s proposal, which is functionally dual covenant—one path of divine communion for Jews via Torah (i.e., keeping the law as understood through the lens of Rabbinic Judaism) and another path for Gentiles via faith in Jesus. For everything good Cornell says about divine communion, he deprives the Jewish people of the sole means of achieving it—the indwelling (tabernacling) of God’s Spirit by grace through faith in Jesus. The absence of Cornell’s affirmation of Jesus’s centrality in this regard might be construed as the most anti-Jewish aspect of his book. For all these reasons, unfortunately, I cannot recommend Cornell’s book.