Paul and the Mission to the Gentiles
In this lesson, we turn to the third “novelty” in Paul’s thought as it relates to Second Temple Judaism. The first two—his interpretation of the Messiah’s suffering and death, and his teaching on the unique gift of the Spirit in relation to the Day of the Lord, the return of Jesus, the resurrection, and the judgment—were both firmly rooted in common Jewish apocalyptic expectation. The third novelty, however, is Paul’s mission to the Gentiles.
Throughout Christian history, each of these themes has been used to argue that Jesus initiated, and Paul carried forward, a spiritualization or universalization of Jewish hope. Yet when we read Paul’s letters carefully, without isolating verses from their context, there is little evidence to support this. Rather, Paul consistently frames these themes within the unchanged Jewish apocalyptic narrative of his time.
As an introduction to Paul’s Gentile mission—how he understood it, spoke about it, and reflected on it—we must first ask: was Jewish missionary activity already happening in his day? Was Paul simply following an existing pattern, or did his mission flow out of Israel’s election in a unique way? Historically, there is little evidence of widespread Jewish proselytizing. While Gentile converts (proselytoi) certainly existed, active solicitation appears virtually absent. The single New Testament reference in Matthew 23:15 (“You travel over land and sea to make a single proselyte…”) is better understood as describing rabbinic practice of confirming occasional conversions in Diaspora synagogues, much like Peter and John’s journey to Samaria in Acts 8 to confirm the work begun through Philip.
This leaves Judaism in Paul’s day caught between two caricatures: on the one hand, accused of being ultra-nationalistic and inwardly focused, and on the other, condemned as an aggressive, expansionist missionary force. In reality, it was neither. Paul’s mission to the Gentiles must therefore be understood against this backdrop—not as a break with Judaism, but as his unique expression of Israel’s covenantal calling within the apocalyptic hope of the age to come.
Judaism, both in the Tanakh and during the Second Temple period, largely functioned in line with its divine calling to be a light to the nations. We’ll unpack that more in a moment, but first let’s highlight a quote from Paula Fredriksen on the question of Jewish missionary activity. She writes:
“On the Jewish side, we have no internal evidence for such missions—neither the name of a single Jewish missionary nor a record of any missionary procedures we might expect. From the rabbis, those most concerned with boundaries, categories, and halakhic precision, we find no prescriptions for correct missionary practice. In fact, we find nothing. If radical affiliation to Judaism were the result of organized missions, we should see some record of how they functioned. Instead, pagan interest in Judaism seems to have arisen through freelance, non-institutional efforts—such as individuals like Ananias and Eleazar with the royal house of Adiabene, as Josephus records—or through casual exposure to Diaspora synagogue communities.”
In short, there is no evidence for organized Jewish missionary activity in antiquity. This makes Paul’s mission to the Gentiles a striking novelty in the New Testament, though one he still frames within a thoroughly Jewish apocalyptic worldview. We see this clearly in Acts 17, when Paul addresses Gentiles in Athens who had no grounding in Israel’s Scriptures or story. He offers them a sweeping overview from creation to the Day of the Lord, declaring that God had previously allowed the nations to go their own way but now commands all people everywhere to repent:
22 So Paul stood in the midst of the Areopagus and said, “Men of Athens, I see that you are very religious in all respects. 23 For while I was passing through and examining the objects of your worship, I also found an altar with this inscription, ‘TO AN UNKNOWN GOD.’ Therefore, what you worship in ignorance, this I proclaim to you. 24 The God who made the world and everything that is in it, since He is Lord of heaven and earth, does not dwell in temples made by hands; 25 nor is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all people life and breath and all things; 26 and He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their habitation, 27 that they would seek God, if perhaps they might feel around for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; 28 for in Him we live and move and exist, as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we also are His descendants.’ 29 Therefore, since we are the descendants of God, we ought not to think that the Divine Nature is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by human skill and thought. 30 So having overlooked the times of ignorance, God is now proclaiming to mankind that all people everywhere are to repent, 31 because He has set a day on which He will judge the world in righteousness through a Man whom He has appointed, having furnished proof to all people by raising Him from the dead.” (Acts 17:22-31, NASB Bible)
Why repent? Because He has fixed a day when He will judge the world in righteousness through the man He has appointed—the Messiah. Paul thus presents his mission not as a departure from Jewish hope, but as a fresh expression of God’s mercy within the apocalyptic framework of final judgment and resurrection.
Paul consistently interprets his ministry in this way: as an extension of Israel’s election to be a light to the nations. In Acts 13, immediately after Paul and Barnabas are set apart for their first apostolic mission, we hear Paul’s earliest recorded sermon at Pisidian Antioch:
16 Paul stood up, and motioning with his hand said, “Men of Israel, and you who fear God, listen: 17 The God of this people Israel chose our fathers and emade the people great during their stay in the land of Egypt, and with an uplifted arm He led them out from it. 18 For a period of about forty years He put up with them in the wilderness. 19 When He had destroyed seven nations in the land of Canaan, He distributed their land as an inheritance—all of which took about 450 years. 20 After these things He gave them judges until Samuel the prophet. 21 Then they asked for a king, and God gave them Saul the son of Kish, a man of the tribe of Benjamin, for forty years. 22 After He had removed him, He raised up David to be their king, concerning whom He also testified and said, ‘I have found David, the son of Jesse, a man after My heart, who will do all My will.’ 23 From the descendants of this man, according to promise, God has brought to Israel a Savior, Jesus, 24 after John had proclaimed, before His coming, a baptism of repentance to all the people of Israel. 25 And while John was completing his course, he kept saying, ‘What do you suppose that I am? I am not He. But behold, one is coming after me, the sandals of whose feet I am not worthy to untie.’
26 “Brothers, sons of Abraham’s family, and those among you who fear God, to us the message of this salvation has been sent. 27 For those who live in Jerusalem, and their rulers, recognizing neither Him nor the declarations of the prophets which are read every Sabbath, fulfilled these by condemning Him. 28 And though they found no grounds for putting Him to death, they asked Pilate that He be executed. 29 When they had carried out everything that was written concerning Him, they took Him down from the cross and laid Him in a tomb. 30 But God raised Him from the dead; 31 and for many days He appeared to those who came up with Him from Galilee to Jerusalem, the very ones who are now His witnesses to the people. 32 And we preach to you the good news of the promise made to the fathers, 33 that God has fulfilled this promise to those of us who are the descendants by raising Jesus, as it is also written in the second Psalm: ‘YOU ARE MY SON; TODAY I HAVE FATHERED YOU.’ 34 As for the fact that He raised Him from the dead, never again to return to decay, He has spoken in this way: ‘I WILL GIVE YOU THE HOLY AND FAITHFUL MERCIES OF DAVID.’ 35 Therefore, He also says in another Psalm: ‘YOU WILL NOT ALLOW YOUR HOLY ONE TO UNDERGO DECAY.’ 36 For David, after he had served God’s purpose in his own generation, fell asleep, and was oburied among his fathers and underwent decay; 37 but He whom God raised did not undergo decay. 38 Therefore let it be known to you, brothers, that through Him forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you, 39 and through Him everyone who believes is freed from all things, from which you could not be freed through the Law of Moses. 40 Therefore, see that the thing spoken of in the Prophets does not come upon you: 41 ‘LOOK, YOU SCOFFERS, AND BE ASTONISHED, AND PERISH; FOR I AM ACCOMPLISHING A WORK IN YOUR DAYS, A WORK WHICH YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE, THOUGH SOMEONE SHOULD DESCRIBE IT TO YOU.’ ” (Acts 13:16-41, NASB Bible)
When the message is rejected by some Jews, Luke records their bold response: “It was necessary that the word of God be spoken first to you. Since you thrust it aside and judge yourselves unworthy of eternal life, behold, we are turning to the Gentiles (Acts 13:46). For so the Lord has commanded us, saying, ‘I have made you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring salvation to the ends of the earth’” (Isaiah 49). Far from abandoning Israel, Paul frames his Gentile mission as a continuation of Israel’s vocation. The pattern is clear: to the Jew first, then to the Gentile, in the order of covenant election.
This understanding is deeply rooted in the Tanakh. God’s covenantal election of Israel is never isolated from His sovereignty over the nations. From the very beginning with Abraham, God promised: “I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” (Gen 12:3). This promise is repeated throughout Genesis to the patriarchs and later echoed by Paul in Galatians 3, where he argues that God was already proclaiming the gospel in seed form—that through Abraham’s offspring, the nations would be blessed, ultimately through the Messiah. At Sinai, the same calling is reiterated: “You shall be my treasured possession among all peoples, for all the earth is mine; and you shall be to me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exod 19:5–6).
In this light, Paul does not invent a universal mission out of nowhere. Rather, he sees himself as embodying Israel’s ancient calling, extended to the Gentiles in a unique way through the Messiah’s death and resurrection. His mission is novel in practice, but not in principle: it is the outworking of God’s covenant plan from the beginning, that through Israel, all nations would ultimately share in His mercy.
At Sinai, God’s declaration shaped Israel’s identity: they were chosen to function in a priestly role between Him and the nations. This did not mean Israel’s election was merely utilitarian, as though God was simply “using” them. Scripture makes this clear—for instance, in Deuteronomy 7 God reminds Israel, “I did not choose you because you were more numerous than other peoples, for you were the fewest of all peoples. But it was because the Lord loved you and kept the oath He swore to your forefathers.” Israel’s election rests on God’s covenant love, not on merit or usefulness alone.
Yet the covenant also carried a purpose: Israel’s calling was to mediate light, truth, and blessing to the nations. This dynamic unfolds across the Tanakh and the prophetic tradition, where Israel is entrusted with the ‘oracles of the age to come’ (Romans 3:1–2; Hebrews 6:5). In biblical context, the oracles refer to God’s revealed words, promises, and instructions entrusted to Israel—namely, the Torah, the covenant promises, and the prophetic revelations. In the present age, they serve as stewards of these promises, and in the age to come they will administer them in their fullness. The Psalms often echo this vision—for example, Psalm 67 re-articulates the Aaronic blessing: “May God be gracious to us and bless us and make His face shine upon us, that Your way may be known on earth, Your saving power among all nations.” Israel’s election is always framed in relation to the nations, that God’s ways might be known and glorified among all peoples.
This same pattern is reaffirmed in the New Testament. Peter, writing to Jewish believers in the Diaspora, cites Exodus 19: “You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for His own possession.” His charge is practical and eschatological: conduct yourselves honorably among the Gentiles, so that when they malign you, they may one day glorify God at the coming judgment. That means their everyday conduct matters, especially when they are being criticized or falsely accused. Their good works should serve as a testimony, so that even those who slander them might ultimately glorify God. At the same time, Peter’s command has an eschatological dimension (looking ahead to the end). He says this honorable conduct will have its full effect “on the day of visitation”—a reference to God’s final judgment when all will be revealed. In other words, their faithfulness now will shine all the brighter when God completes His plan. In other words, Jewish election continues to carry the two-age dynamic—faithfulness in this age in view of the age to come.
Paul fits squarely within this framework. His ministry to the Gentiles should not be read as a corrective to Israel’s supposed failure. Many modern treatments of Old Testament mission theology conclude that Israel “botched” its calling by being too inwardly focused. But this caricature fails to account for the continuity of Israel’s covenantal identity.
The foundations of Israel’s covenant identity are laid in the Torah, especially in Deuteronomy. There, God declares that His choice of Israel is not based on their greatness or strength, but on His love and His oath to the fathers: “It was not because you were more in number than any other people that the LORD set his love on you and chose you, for you were the fewest of all peoples, but it is because the LORD loves you and is keeping the oath that he swore to your fathers”(Deut 7:7–8). Election, then, is grounded not in merit but in divine faithfulness.
This covenant identity carries both privilege and responsibility. Israel is to be a people set apart, holy to the LORD (Deut 7:6), charged with walking in His ways, keeping His commandments, and reflecting His justice and righteousness. Their obedience was never for themselves alone, but for the sake of the nations who would see their life under God’s rule and recognize His wisdom: “Keep them and do them, for that will be your wisdom and your understanding in the sight of the peoples, who, when they hear all these statutes, will say, ‘Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people’”(Deut 4:6). In other words, Israel’s covenant life was designed to have a missional impact, bearing witness to the nations of God’s character and rule.
Far from being annulled, this covenant identity is ongoing. Deuteronomy itself looks forward to Israel’s failures and dispersion, but it also promises restoration: “And when all these things come upon you … and you call them to mind among all the nations where the LORD your God has driven you … then the LORD your God will restore your fortunes and have mercy on you” (Deut 30:1–3). The covenant endures even through disobedience, because God Himself pledges to bring His people back, circumcising their hearts so that they might love Him fully (Deut 30:6).
Paul stands squarely in continuity with this covenant narrative. His mission to the Gentiles does not replace Israel’s calling but extends it. The same God who swore an oath to the fathers and entrusted Israel with His Torah has now, through Messiah, widened the circle so that the nations may share in the blessing promised to Abraham. The continuity of Israel’s covenant identity ensures that Paul’s ministry is not a corrective to Israel’s failure, but the outworking of God’s faithfulness to His covenant promises.
Of course, Israel had periods of apostasy and ethnocentric tendencies, but by and large, Israel pursued its vocation as it was revealed through Sinai and the prophets. Likewise, in the first century, Israel was not wholesale rejecting its role as a light to the nations. Paul does not frame his apostleship as a condemnation of Jewish election but as a novel divine initiative within it.
For this reason, Paul rarely pauses in his letters to “self-reflect” on his apostleship; he is too busy carrying it out—discipling Gentiles into the hope of Israel. Romans 11 is one of the few places where he does reflect, articulating his unique role as the apostle to the Gentiles. Even there, he situates his ministry firmly within Israel’s covenant calling, showing that his mission is not a departure from God’s plan but an extension of it.
In Romans 11 Paul frames his theology around the concept of the remnant, a theme deeply rooted in the prophetic tradition and well established in Second Temple Judaism. Not all within Israel have remained faithful; divine discipline has come because of apostasy. Yet God has always preserved a faithful remnant. Paul cites Elijah’s day as precedent and even points to himself as an example. The very existence of this remnant proves that God’s covenant with Israel has not failed.
But Paul presses further: “Did they stumble in order that they might fall?” (Rom 11:11). Is Israel’s apostasy evidence that their election has been revoked? His answer is emphatic: “By no means!” Under divine sovereignty, Israel’s trespass has opened a door of mercy to the Gentiles, whose inclusion is meant in turn to stir Israel to jealousy and ultimately bring about their restoration. If Israel’s failure has meant riches for the nations, Paul insists, how much greater will their full inclusion be!
As apostle to the Gentiles, Paul magnifies his ministry precisely because he sees it as serving Israel’s destiny. Their present rejection has brought reconciliation to the world, but their future acceptance will mean nothing less than “life from the dead.” This apocalyptic hope remains unchanged. God’s covenant with Israel is irrevocable; the patriarchal root is holy, and so the branches—even if some are cut off—still belong to the same tree. Gentiles, therefore, must not become arrogant. They are wild branches grafted into Israel’s cultivated tree, receiving the nourishing sap of the Torah, the promises, and the hope of resurrection. If God did not spare the natural branches, He will certainly not tolerate Gentile pride.
Paul describes this as a mystery: a partial hardening has come upon Israel until the fullness of the Gentiles comes in. Then, in continuity with Jewish apocalyptic expectation, “all Israel will be saved” — a phrase pointing to the eschatological restoration of the twelve tribes at the day of the Lord, when the Deliverer comes from Zion. Until that day, God is extending mercy to the Gentiles as part of, not apart from, His overarching plan of election for Israel.
This is why Paul can describe unbelieving Jews as both “enemies for your sake” and yet “beloved for the sake of their forefathers” (Rom 11:28). Israel’s election is not nullified by present disobedience, for “the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable” (Rom 11:29). The conclusion is sweeping: just as Gentiles once disobeyed but received mercy, so too will Israel, that God might have mercy on all.
Paul thus situates his ministry within the unchanged Jewish apocalyptic narrative: God’s mercy extends first to Israel, now to the nations, and finally will embrace all at the resurrection and restoration. This climaxes in his doxology, where theology gives way to worship: “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God!”
As Paul reflects on his ministry and the enduring hope of Israel, he cannot help but burst into praise: “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments, and how inscrutable His ways. For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been His counselor? Or who has given a gift to Him that He might be repaid?” (Rom 11:33–35). His doxology resonates with Jewish apocalyptic tradition, echoing passages like 2 Baruch 75. There, after being shown the sweep of redemptive history, Baruch exclaims: “Who can equal Your goodness, O Lord? … Who can fathom Your grace, which is without end? … Who can understand Your intelligence, or narrate the thoughts of Your Spirit?” Both Paul and Baruch respond to the revelation of God’s mercy and sovereign plan with awe and gratitude, overwhelmed by its depth and mystery.
Paul’s declaration is not abstract. It flows directly from the weight of the apocalyptic narrative he has just outlined in Romans 11: the preservation of a faithful remnant, the hardening of some, the grafting in of Gentiles, and the final restoration of Israel. God’s extension of mercy to the nations, while real and profound, is set within the larger, unshakable framework of His covenant with Israel. This is why Paul never presents his ministry to the Gentiles as the fulfillment of Israel’s eschatology or as a universalization of Israel’s election. Instead, his ministry functions as a sub-narrative within Israel’s ongoing story, not a replacement of it.
Yet many modern readers assume precisely this: that Paul was announcing a universalized election where ethnic distinctions no longer matter, and that the church now constitutes a “spiritual Israel.” This interpretation, however, is foreign to Paul’s context. For him, Israel remains the elect nation, beloved for the sake of the patriarchs (Rom 11:28–29). The Gentiles are not transformed into “Israel,” nor does Israel’s covenantal identity dissolve into a metaphor. Rather, Gentiles are graciously grafted into Israel’s hope, nourished by the promises given to the patriarchs, and called to walk humbly in light of God’s mercy.
Paul’s concern, then, is not to redefine Israel but to remind Gentiles of their place within God’s apocalyptic plan: they share in the blessings of Israel’s Messiah without displacing Israel’s unique covenantal role.
If universalization or spiritual Israel were a claim to be made, Romans 11 would be the place—but instead, Paul insists on the continuity of Israel’s calling and on the humility of the Gentiles before that mystery.
Mercy toward the Gentiles, then, is a new initiative within an ancient program. It does not replace Israel’s covenant identity but joins it, grafted into the same tree, nourished by the same promises, awaiting the same consummation. Paul frames this in the two-age schema familiar to Second Temple Judaism: mercy extended in this age in anticipation of the age to come.
This framework shapes what follows. As Paul moves into Romans 12–14, his discipleship exhortations are grounded in this vast redemptive horizon. “I appeal to you, therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice…” (Rom 12:1). The “mercies” are not generic kindnesses but the mercies just expounded in Romans 9–11: God’s patience toward Israel, His faithfulness to the patriarchs, and His surprising inclusion of the Gentiles. Discipleship is thus lived in light of the apocalyptic hope—the resurrection of the dead, the return of the Messiah, and the coming kingdom.
In Romans 14–15, Paul addresses the practical outworking of this vision. Jewish believers live out their discipleship in covenant fidelity shaped by Torah; Gentile believers walk in a simpler, developing framework akin to the Noahide laws. This is not homogeneity but harmony. As Paul insists, “May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another… that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom 15:5–6). Harmony presumes difference—Jews and Gentiles remain distinct, yet together glorify the God of Israel.
The climax of Paul’s argument comes in Romans 15:8–9: “Christ became a servant to the circumcised to show God’s truthfulness, in order to confirm the promises given to the patriarchs, and in order that the Gentiles might glorify God for His mercy.” The Messiah’s death and resurrection confirm—not cancel—the promises to Israel, while simultaneously opening a way for Gentiles to share in the mercy of God. Paul underscores this with a series of Tanakh quotations (Ps 18; Deut 32; Ps 117; Isa 11), each pointing forward to the day when the nations will join Israel in praising the God of Israel in the age to come.
Thus, discipleship is proleptic—patterned after the future hope. Believers walk “as in the daytime” (Rom 13:13), living now in accordance with the coming reality. Jews and Gentiles together anticipate Isaiah’s vision: “The root of Jesse will come, even He who arises to rule the Gentiles; in Him will the Gentiles hope” (Isa 11:10).
Paul closes with a powerful exhortation: “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope” (Rom 15:13). For Gentiles—once “without God and without hope in the world” (Eph 2:12)—this hope is nothing less than miraculous. It is the Spirit who enables them to rejoice not in their own election, nation, or pride, but in the hope of Israel’s God, in the promises made to the patriarchs, and in the coming restoration of all things.
Paul sets the pattern of redemptive history within a framework of two ages, now moving toward its climactic fulfillment. God has chosen one Man from Nazareth—the appointed Judge of the living and the dead—who will restore all things from His city and among His people. To the Jew first, glory, honor, and immortality (Rom 2), and then to the Gentile. As Gentiles, our place is not at the center but within this larger Jewish narrative. We humble ourselves, rejoicing with peace and confidence in the word God has spoken throughout history.
In Romans 15:14, Paul assures the Roman believers: “I myself am satisfied about you, my brothers, that you yourselves are full of goodness, filled with all knowledge and able to instruct one another.” This is not a flattery but an exhortation. They are to be marked not by arrogance, ignorance, or misdirected teaching, but by wisdom grounded in the Scriptures and the plan of God. Yet Paul reminds them boldly—Gentiles, too, can be cut off if they become conceited. His sharpness is pastoral, rooted in the grace given to him as a minister of Christ Jesus to the Gentiles. He sees his ministry as a priestly service: offering the Gentiles up as an acceptable sacrifice, sanctified by the Spirit, echoing Israel’s original calling in Exodus 19 to be a priestly nation among the nations.
Paul’s self-reflection is striking. He is not inventing a new mission but carrying forward Israel’s ancient vocation. God, in this era, has initiated a fresh extension of mercy, sending Paul and others to proclaim the message of the Scriptures to the Gentiles. His goal is simple yet weighty: to present these Gentiles—specifically the Roman believers—before the God of Israel, blameless at the coming of Jesus the Messiah, inheriting resurrection and eternal life rather than condemnation at the day of judgment.
In verse 17, Paul can therefore say: “In Christ Jesus, then, I have reason to be proud of my work for God.” But his boasting is not in himself. He refuses to speak of anything except what Christ has accomplished through him: Gentiles brought to obedience through word and deed, through signs and wonders, and by the power of the Spirit. From Jerusalem all the way to Illyricum, Paul sees his ministry as a fulfillment of the Gospel’s advance—discipling Gentiles into the hope of Israel, so that they may abound in joy, peace, and belief, glorifying the God of Israel proleptically—living now in anticipation of the world to come, where Jew and Gentile together will dwell in righteousness, peace, and joy forever.
This is why, at the end of Romans 11, Paul erupts in doxology: “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments, and how inscrutable His ways! For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been His counselor? Or who has given a gift to Him that He might be repaid? For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be glory forever.” Paul longs for the Gentiles themselves to echo this same Spirit-filled awe—that while the nations rage against the God of Israel and against His people, they might instead rejoice in His mercy, delight in Jewish election, and cling to Israel’s eschatological hope as their own doorway into eternal life.
Seen in this light, Paul is not redefining Israel’s story but faithfully living within it. His interpretation of the Messiah’s death, the gift of the Spirit, and the mission to the Gentiles all converge in one reality: a new initiative of mercy embedded within an unchanged Jewish apocalyptic narrative.