What Did Jesus Mean by “Good News”? Rediscovering the Gospel Jesus Preached

When Jesus begins his public ministry in Mark chapter 1, he comes out of the wilderness with a simple yet explosive message: “The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe the good news.” For many of us, that phrase “good news” has become so familiar it’s lost its weight. We’ve heard it taught as shorthand for getting into heaven—believe this, pray that, and one day you’ll float away to a better place. But that interpretation misses the heart of what Jesus meant, and how he understood his own identity.

This is part two in a broader conversation on what the gospel really is. In part one, we looked at how the term “gospel” was used in the ancient world. It wasn’t a religious word—it was a political one. Euangelion (Greek for “good news”) was the kind of announcement made when a new emperor was crowned or when a kingdom declared victory. So when Jesus uses it, he’s not just offering good advice or a personal salvation plan. He’s declaring something cosmic, something historical, something that was about to change everything.

To understand how Jesus thought of the gospel, we have to understand how he thought of himself. That brings us to Isaiah 61. This prophetic passage speaks of someone anointed by God’s Spirit to bring good news to the poor, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for captives and comfort for those who mourn. It’s a restoration vision—a mission of healing and justice. And when Jesus begins his public ministry, this is the passage he reads out loud in the synagogue. After reading it, he sits down and says, “Today this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

This was no casual reading. This was Jesus taking Isaiah 61 and saying, “That’s me. That’s what I’ve come to do.” And that word “anointed” matters. In Hebrew, it’s Mashiach—Messiah. In Greek, it’s Christos—Christ. So when we say “Jesus Christ,” we’re not stating his surname. We’re naming his identity. Jesus believed he was the anointed one—the Messiah—the one commissioned to bring God’s kingdom into the world.

From there, everything in his ministry begins to make sense. He heals the sick, feeds the hungry, restores the excluded, confronts injustice, and announces the rule and reign of God. He embodies the good news. He is the good news. The gospel isn’t just that Jesus died for our sins so we can go to heaven. The gospel is that the long-awaited king has come, and through him, the kingdom of God is breaking into the world—right here, right now.

This is why the early gospel writers frame his story the way they do. Luke starts with his baptism, where the Spirit descends on him like a dove, echoing Isaiah’s “Spirit of the Lord is upon me.” He gives us Jesus’ genealogy, tracing him back to David, Israel’s great king. He tells of Jesus being tested in the wilderness, resisting the pull of power and self-indulgence. And then, Jesus begins his work—not just teaching, but acting, embodying the kingdom.

Even Jesus’ disciples had to wrestle with what this meant. In Matthew 16, Jesus asks his followers, “Who do people say I am?” They offer various answers—prophet, teacher, maybe Elijah. Then he asks Peter, “Who do you say I am?” And Peter replies, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” That’s not just a theological statement. That’s Peter declaring, “You’re the one. You’re the Messiah we’ve been waiting for.”

Later, when Jesus is on trial, the high priest asks him directly, “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed One?” And Jesus answers, “I am,” referencing a divine figure from Daniel. It’s that confession that ultimately gets him killed. Not because he was just a good teacher, but because he was claiming to be the one anointed by God to bring the kingdom.

So when Jesus says in Mark 1, “The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe the good news,” he isn’t offering a private religious escape. He’s announcing that God’s long-promised rule has arrived in him. The call to repent isn’t about behavior management or shame; it’s an invitation to realign your whole life with a new reality—a new kingdom.

Now, here’s where it gets personal. A lot of us were introduced to Christianity through the lens of fear. I certainly was. I was told I was a bad person who had done bad things, and Jesus could forgive me and take me to heaven—if I prayed the right prayer and stopped doing the bad stuff. And if I didn’t? Eternal fire and torment. That was the pitch.

And yes, I’m being a bit tongue-in-cheek here, but also—I believed it. I didn’t want to go to hell. So I said the prayer. I tried to behave. I joined the system. But somewhere along the way, I began to see a bigger picture.

What if the gospel isn’t mostly about where you go when you die, but how you live while you’re alive? What if Jesus came not to give us an exit strategy from the world, but to invite us into the renewal of it?

That’s what Pentecost was about—the Spirit empowering his followers to carry out the same kingdom work Jesus began. That’s why Jesus said it was better for him to leave—because his followers would now become the agents of his mission. Through them, through us, the kingdom continues to expand.

So no, the gospel isn’t just “say this prayer and wait for heaven.” The gospel is that Jesus is King now, and through his Spirit, he’s empowering us to live out that kingdom—here, today, in how we love, serve, forgive, restore, and heal.

The gospel is good news. Not just for your soul, but for the whole world.

And that’s worth believing.