I try to wrestle honestly with Scripture, history, and our modern times – and it can be messy. Today, we’re previewing a section from my “booklet” (about 35,000 words) that is an uncooked “cookie dough” draft building a case for a philosophy for the future. It’s called “The Coming of the Son of Man and Its Awakening” and is about how globalization, science, nihilism, and Scripture are converging in our time.
It argues that the Coming of the Son of Man is an ongoing, collective awakening—a dynamic process rather than a one-time end event—interpreted through biblical eschatology, first-century teachings, philosophy, and modern human psychology. We’ll look at modern issues and how an ancient biblical concept is crucial for the spiritual, mental, and physical flourishing of humankind. This exploration is an unpolished draft and is available on Patreon for members, or for $4.99 for non-Patreons. After more work, it’ll be available to The Existential Hangover members for free and for purchase on Amazon.
This section from the “booklet” primarily covers Luke 21, and we’re revisiting an older post. Luke 21 challenges us to rethink not only our perspective on eschatology but also our role in the unfolding Kingdom of God. The Temple’s fate, the widow’s offering, and the fig tree converge into a profound call for reflection and readiness. Central to this is Jesus’ enigmatic title, “Son of Man,” which invites us into a collective awakening rather than a detached theological dogma.
Setting the Stage: Jerusalem Before Luke 21 and the Son of Man
To understand Luke 21, we must revisit the events leading up to it. Jesus’ final days in Jerusalem, as described in Luke 19-20, are a whirlwind of confrontation and revelation. He enters the city on a colt, fulfilling Zechariah 9:9’s prophecy of a humble king. Yet this triumphal entry is tinged with sorrow. Jesus weeps over Jerusalem, lamenting its spiritual blindness and resistance to His teachings (Luke 19:41-44). His longing to gather its people like a hen gathering her chicks underscores the tragedy of their rejection, as well as His posture toward them.
In the Temple, Jesus disrupts business as usual: “Then he entered the temple and began to drive out those who were selling things there; and he said, “It is written, ‘My house shall be a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a den of robbers” (Luke 19:45-46). He flipped tables and drove out merchants and money changers. This act is more than righteous anger—it’s an enacted prophecy signaling judgment on a corrupt institution. The Temple, once central to worship and justice, has become an exploitative system. Religious leaders sense the threat and challenge His authority (Luke 20), but Jesus responds with parables like the Wicked Tenants and the Vineyard Owner, exposing their hypocrisy and sealing their hostility toward Him.
Re-examining The “Son of Man”
The first instance of the phrase “coming of the Son of Man” in Luke’s narrative appears a few chapters earlier, in Luke 17:22. Jesus says, “The time will come when you will long to see one of the days of the Son of Man, but you will not see it.” This hints that the coming of the Son of Man is not merely a future event but something that will be longed for and perhaps missed. To grasp what the term “Son of Man” meant requires a look at the Old Testament. In Daniel 7:13-14, the Son of Man is portrayed as a figure receiving divine authority and establishing an everlasting kingdom.
In Daniel 7, the prophet has a vision of four beasts emerging from the sea, representing earthly kingdoms characterized by violence and oppression. Then, in contrast to these beasts, a “one like a son of man” appears, coming on the clouds of heaven (Daniel 7:13). This figure is presented before the Ancient of Days and receives dominion, glory, and kingship, so that all nations and peoples of every language might serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed. This imagery is powerful. The Son of Man in Daniel represents a kingdom that is not based on earthly power or brute force but on divine love and justice. It is a kingdom that transcends the kingdoms of this world, offering hope for a future where righteousness prevails.
“What Scripture calls ‘the end’ isn’t a finish line; it’s a doorway into the renewal of all things.”
N.T. Wright
However, and ironically, Daniel is then also called a “son of man” – “And when he came, I was frightened and fell on my face. But he said to me, “Understand, O son of man, that the vision is for the time of the end” (Daniel 8:17). This might be surprising to modern Christians, but Ezekiel goes further with it.
In Ezekiel, the term “son of man” takes on an unmistakable human nuance. Over 90 times, God addresses Ezekiel as “son of man,” emphasizing his humanity in contrast to God’s divine nature. Ezekiel is called to be a prophet to a rebellious people, delivering God’s message even when it is unpopular or unwelcome. The title “son of man” reminds Ezekiel of his humanity and finitude, as well as his calling and posture with the divine (c.f. Numbers 23:19).
Jesus masterfully blends these two meanings. He identifies Himself as the Son of Man, claiming the authority and dominion prophesied in Daniel. He embraces the humility and vulnerability associated with the title in Ezekiel (Philippians 2:1-9). He is not a conquering king in the traditional sense but a suffering servant who comes to redeem humanity through love and sacrifice. It’s the Son of Man title that Jesus attributes to himself more than any other, and yet modern theologians have redefined it as simply meaning his divinity. In Jesus, we have the Priest and King, as well as the Human and Divine in One, with a dramatic invitation.
Integrating With God Through Humanity
This convergence—divinity (i.e., “son of God”) coupled with humanity—is key to understanding Jesus’ mission, as well as personal understandings of “salvation” and “sanctification.” The Son of Man is not merely an apocalyptic figure descending from heaven; He embodies humanity restored to its original purpose as bearers of God’s image (Genesis 1:27). This restoration involves radical self-giving love—a theme echoed throughout Luke. The coming of the Son of Man points toward an ongoing collective awakening rather than a one-time apocalyptic event, inviting humanity to participate in His son-of-man-ness.
The coming of the Son of Man, therefore, is not about when, but us and how. As Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 15:28, “When all things are subjected to him, then the Son himself will also be subjected to him who put all things in subjection under him, that God may be all in all.” The vision in Revelation 21-22 echoes this ultimate reconciliation that happens after the wedding feast of the Church and Jesus (Revelation 19:6-9), depicting a renewed and unified heaven and earth where God dwells with humanity, and the healing of the nations flows from the Tree of Life (c.f. Proverbs 11:30).
“The most important thing in your life is not what you do; it’s who you become. That’s what you will take into eternity.”
– Dallas Willard
It’s also important to note that the concept of “sons of god” was used by most cultures in connection to the “divine right of kings“–from Hindus, Greco-Romans, and Inca. Therefore, Jesus’ self-identification with humanity, as opposed to the more popular title, Son of God, matters not just in personal application but also in worldview and how Christianity is applied to politics. The Christian Gospel teaches that we are sons and daughters of God, we are in His image, we can be in the image of Christ, we can have Him in us, and so forth.
All of this shapes a more accurate framework of the “son of man.” It also begins to shift the framework on other commonly held beliefs. In so doing, it makes possible an authentic historic, spiritual, and practical faith, still built solidly on Scripture and Science.
“We do not think ourselves into new ways of living, we live ourselves into new ways of thinking.”
– Richard Rohr
The Widow’s Offering and the Temple System’s Condemnation
Luke 21 transitions from Jesus’ condemnation of religious leaders in Luke 20 directly into a poignant moment that encapsulates His critique—a widow and her offering of two mites (Luke 21:1-4). Jesus observes a poor widow giving two half-pennies—everything she had—while wealthy donors contribute from their surplus. He declared her offering greater than all others because it represents total surrender.
This isn’t merely about generosity and her personal devotion; it’s a scathing critique of the Temple-state system itself. This is a woman giving money to the very institution that Jesus just condemned. The widow’s act exposes how far Israel’s religious institutions had strayed from God’s justice. The Temple was meant to be a house of prayer for all nations (Isaiah 56:7), yet it had become a machine exploiting even widows—the very people Scripture commanded to protect (Exodus 22:22). The widow’s seemingly insignificant offering exposes the hollowness of the Temple’s grandeur. Amid everything, she still gave to something bigger than herself.
This stands in stark contrast to the actions of those who exploit the system for their own gain, turning the house of prayer into a den of robbers. The prophet Jeremiah condemned this practice centuries before Jesus, asking, “Has this house, which bears my Name, become a den of robbers to you?” (Jeremiah 7:11). Jesus’ act of cleansing the Temple echoes Jeremiah’s prophetic critique, calling for a return to true worship and personal honesty.
After this event, some people begin marveling at the Temple’s grandeur—its stones and meaning (Luke 21:5). Their admiration reveals how even sincere faith can become captivated by appearances rather than substance. Jesus interrupts their awe with a stark prophecy:
“As for these things that you see—the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down”.
– Luke 21:6
This prophecy was fulfilled in 70 AD when Roman forces destroyed Jerusalem’s Temple during their siege—a cataclysmic event that marked both an end and a beginning for Jewish worship practices. But Jesus’ response goes beyond predicting historical destruction; it points toward something deeper—the impermanence of human institutions compared to God’s eternal kingdom.
Jesus answers their question about timing ambiguously—with a “yes and no.” The destruction will happen historically (as it did in 70 AD), but it also represents an ongoing reality within God’s plan for creation—a teleological attractor pulling history toward reconciliation between humanity and divine reality. Every generation of humans, just as the grass fades, will experience their own “coming of the Son of Man,” when the old assumptions and systems we assumed were permanent crumble under the weight of time.
This eschatological vision reframes history not as random chaos but as a natural movement toward restoration and a logical outcome of resisting it—like an acorn destined to become an oak tree because that is its design or an addict avoiding consequences. It pulls us toward our inevitable confrontation with each other and ourselves. The Temple’s destruction serves as both an example of human corruption and an invitation into new ways of living not based on institutions or tribes, as well as for why man-made assumptions don’t last. We all are temporary, and the world is not about our egos.
“Look at the flowers.“
Navigating Deception and Tribulation: Jesus’s Discourse on the End Times
Jesus continued his discourse, preparing his disciples for the trials they would face. “See to it that you are not misled. For many will come in my name, claiming, ‘I am he,’ and, ‘The time is near.’ Do not follow them” (Luke 21:8). He cautioned them against being deceived by those who claim to be the Messiah or who predict the imminent end. Faking prophecy and pinpointing a date is not how this works–it’s how people use stories to gain control. Predicting the end of something temporal isn’t that impressive of a feat. Our modern preoccupation with the Left Behind series and predispensationalism, and how it influences American politics, is but one such case study.
Jesus warned them not to be terrified by wars and uprisings: “When you hear of wars and uprisings, do not be frightened. These things must happen first, but the end will not come right away” (Luke 21:9). He explained that these events are necessary precursors, but not the immediate culmination. “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be great earthquakes, famines and pestilences in various places, and fearful events and great signs from heaven” (Luke 21:10-11).
These are signs of a world in turmoil, undergoing significant upheaval, but it’s also just run-of-the-mill human history. Humans always think that what we’re facing is bigger than anything before, and we always blame other people. We have had countless of these exact things happen in the last 2000 years, and still miss Jesus’ point here.
But before the ultimate end, Jesus outlines the challenges that His followers will face:
“But before all this, they will seize you and persecute you. They will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors, and all on account of my name. And so you will bear testimony to me. But make up your mind not to worry beforehand how you will defend yourselves; for I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to resist or contradict. You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by everyone because of my name. But not a hair of your head will perish. Stand firm, and you will win life” – Luke 21:12-19
He prepares them for persecution, betrayal, and hatred, promising that He will give them the wisdom and words to withstand their adversaries. They will need perseverance. “You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by everyone because of my name. But not a hair of your head will perish. Stand firm, and you will win life” (Luke 21:16-19).
He describes cosmic disturbances and earthly chaos (Luke 21:25-26), continuing a picture of a world in turmoil. However, and again, this passage is part of history for us. This already happened and continues still. Yet, with a world of 2 billion professing Christians, it’s not the same context as it was then, but Jesus’ meaning is unchanged.
Then, in the midst of these dire predictions, Jesus offers a note of hope: “When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near” (Luke 21:28). This is followed immediately by the lesson of the fig tree.
The Fig Tree as Prophetic Symbolism: Discernment and the Kingdom
The fig tree appears prominently in Jesus’ final week in Jerusalem. In Mark and Matthew, He curses a barren fig tree—a symbolic act indicting Israel’s spiritual barrenness and foreshadowing judgment on the Temple (Mark 11:12-14). Luke reframes this image in 21:29-31:
“Look at the fig tree and all the trees. When they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is near. Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that the kingdom of God is near.”
Here, the fig tree (and all trees) becomes a signpost for discernment rather than judgment. Its fruitlessness signals imminent change—an invitation to recognize God’s unfolding plan. The fruitless fig tree is not about predicting future events; it is about recognizing the authentic fruit of humanity. Every generation must learn this in some fashion until humanity finally learns its lesson and wakes up. As Jesus says, “this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened” (Luke 21:32).
Throughout Scripture, trees symbolize spiritual vitality or decay. Psalm 1 likens the righteous to trees planted by streams of water; Jeremiah 17:8 echoes this imagery. By invoking trees again in Luke 21, Jesus calls His listeners to evaluate their spiritual fruitfulness in light of the coming upheaval. He is urging them to be aware, alert, and discerning so that they can navigate the challenges ahead with wisdom and faith.
“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”
– Julian of Norwich
The Eschatological Drama: Judgment as Renewal and the Call to Action
Jesus’ prophecy about the Temple’s destruction isn’t just historical—it represents a needed paradigm shift in worship. The Temple was never meant to confine God’s presence; true worship transcends buildings and rituals (John 4:23-24). We are His image, and His Kingdom is already in our midst – why are we still fighting over dumb things? The state of global affairs clearly shows that we’re stuck in tribes, egos, culture wars, and idealism – humans just debating semantics while their children deal with their parents’ hypocrisy. Humanity can only avoid irresponsibility and blame-shift for so long.
“The ego is not master in its own house.”
– Sigmund Freud
Luke 21 holds up a mirror to our time and asks us to look at the fruit. Globalization, technological acceleration, and cultural fragmentation reflect humanity’s collective ego crisis. Amid historic existential uncertainty, the same age-old challenge has also been echoing louder: to face our darkness and walk in light.
The Son of Man invites us into this transformation—not through conquest but through humility and ego-sacrifice. Dying to ego is not just personal—it has global implications for justice and peace. It’s a remedy for the world’s suffering and dysfunctions. The dysfunctions of the individual have transcended up to a fractured globe, and the solution will require a global individual response. As systems theorist Erich Jantsch observed, “Self-organization requires self-transcendence.” Our survival now hinges on surrendering the very identities we’ve weaponized, and behind it all is ego.
Our Christian history and traditions have ignored Jesus’s clear instructions about what initiation into the Kingdom of God is and created safer, easier, ego-based replicas so we can survive within our well-defined bubbles.
Are we paying attention? Are we captivated by grand institutions or seeking God’s deeper reality? What kind of fruit do we have? Is there work to do? Are our heads up and ready?
The signs are all around us if we have eyes to see. If we can’t see it, it may or may not be because of the cross-shaped planks, but mostly may.
“When the whole world is globalized, you’re going to be able to set fire to the whole thing with a single match.”
– René Girard
The Coming of the Son of Man and Its Awakening expands on these themes and argues that the “Coming of the Son of Man” is an ongoing, collective awakening, driven by the converging forces of globalization, scientific advancement, the rise of nihilism, and a renewed interest in spirituality. It offers an integrated approach, drawing from biblical eschatology, first-century teachings, modern psychology, and philosophy to provide a framework for understanding our present moment and participating in the ongoing work of restoration. It is an invitation to wrestle with the questions of our time and to step into the call.
It’s an unpolished draft and available on Patreon for free to members or for $4.99. After more work, it’ll be available to The Existential Hangover members for free, and for purchase on Amazon.
