What about the Intermediate State in 2 Corinthians 5:6-8? Problem Texts for Holistic Eschatology, Part 4

The core hope of New Testament eschatology is the resurrection of the body and a renewed earth. This is the central argument of my book A New Heaven and a New Earth: Reclaiming Biblical Eschatology.

But there are some New Testament texts that seem (on the surface) to contradict this holistic vision of redemption. So I devoted two chapters in the book to addressing such “problem texts.”

In previous blog posts I examined two such texts (1 Thessalonians 4 and Matthew 24), both of which are typically thought to teach the “rapture” of believers to heaven at Christ’s return. I concluded that neither text actually teaches this idea.

But my examination of “problem texts” led me to wonder about the so-called “intermediate state” (or “interim state”), the idea of a temporary period between death and resurrection when the righteous (or their “souls”) are with Christ in heaven, awaiting resurrection.

When I began researching the topic I was ready to concede that there might be some sporadic evidence in the New Testament that pointed to such an intermediate state, even though it was clear from Scripture that this was not the core Christian hope.

C. S. Lewis on the Intermediate State

I was thus initially prepared to concur with C. S. Lewis when he stated in his book on Miracles:

“The earliest Christian documents give a casual and unemphatic assent to the belief that the supernatural part of a man survives the death of the natural organism. But they are very little interested in the matter. What they are intensely interested in is the restoration or ‘resurrection’ of the whole composite creature by a miraculous divine act.”

Admittedly, this was a decidedly unbiblical way of putting the matter, since there is no “supernatural part” of a human being; we are thoroughly “natural” creatures. I was nevertheless glad to see that Lewis affirmed that resurrection/restoration was the true focus of New Testament eschatology.

Like Lewis, however, I assumed that a few biblical texts might in fact portray an interim state for the righteous, in advance of their final destiny of resurrection and new creation.

N. T. Wright on the Intermediate State

Like Lewis, N. T. Wright has also affirmed the validity of an intermediate state, which he thinks was accepted by most first-century Jews and the New Testament. He calls this “life after death,” which is why he coins the phrase “life after life after death” to describe the resurrection and renewed creation.

Wright’s point is that while we may believe in “life after death” (an interim state, presumably in heaven), this is not the genuine Christian hope. And he affirms that too much concern with this can detract from our proper focus, which is that God intends to renew earthly life, starting now.

However, my own study of the New Testament texts that purportedly teach (or mention) an intermediate state has convinced me that none of them actually does.

Absent from the Body, Present with the Lord

Since I can’t deal with all the relevant texts here (for that you’ll have to read the book), let me illustrate my point with 2 Corinthians 5:6-8. More than any other New Testament text, this one seems clearly to indicate a blessed hope in heaven immediately after death. Even the literary context of these verses in 2 Corinthians seems to support an otherworldly orientation.

In an extended discussion (stretching from 2 Corinthians 4:8 to 5:10), Paul appears to contrast bodily life in the present with a heavenly, eternal future. At the end of chapter 4 he speaks of our outer nature wasting away, while our inner nature is being renewed (4:16), and contrasts what is seen and transitory with what is unseen and eternal (4:18).

It makes perfect sense, then, that in chapter 5 Paul would say:

So we are always confident; even though we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord—for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we do have confidence, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. (2 Corinthians 5:6-8)

On the surface, these verses seem to emphasize a heavenly future. Doesn’t Paul say plainly that he would prefer to be “at home with the Lord” (presumably in heaven) than in his present body (on earth)? Doesn’t this clearly teach the hope of heaven that begins immediately at death (when we are separated from our bodies)?

I think we need to be just a bit suspicious of our habituated approach to such texts, given the biblical teaching of God’s plan to redeem creation.

Paul’s Desire for the Resurrection Body

The first thing we should note is that Paul has already stated in 5:1-4 that his actual hope is for the heavenly dwelling that God has prepared (the resurrection body). Speaking of the contrast between the present body and the resurrection body, Paul says:

For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling—if indeed, when we have taken it off we will not be found naked. For while we are still in this tent, we groan under our burden, because we wish not to be unclothed but to be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. (2 Corinthians 5:1-4)

Using the metaphor of the body as a dwelling or house, Paul says he doesn’t want to be “naked” or “unclothed” (that is, disembodied) in the eschaton, but rather to be clothed with a new, resurrection body, a building or dwelling prepared by God, hence “not made with hands” (5:1).

Paul’s use of the phrase “not made with hands” for the resurrection body (pictured as a building) may be dependent on the words attributed to Jesus: “We heard him say, ‘I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another, not made with hands’” (Mark 14:58).

While the resurrection is future, Paul affirms that we already have—in some sense—the hoped-for building or dwelling “in the heavens,” which is being made or prepared by God himself. This is part of a pervasive New Testament pattern of texts that indicate that what God is presently preparing for us (in heaven) will be revealed (on earth) at the coming of Christ.

Does Paul Have Contradictory Hopes?

Here it is important to note that Paul clearly states in 5:1-2 that his hope is for the resurrection body and he affirms in 5:3-4 that he does not want to be “naked” or “unclothed” (that is disembodied).

And yet Paul says that he prefers to be away from the (present) body and at home with the Lord (5:8).

Could Paul have contradictory hopes? Does Paul long for the resurrection while shunning a disembodied state and also prefer a disembodied state to his present life?

Perhaps he has a hierarchy: the resurrected body, then a disembodied state in heaven, then the present earthly body? Many read the text this way.

The Connection between Resurrection and the Presence of the Lord

However, we don’t need such an artificial solution to this seeming contradiction. Rather, we need to pay attention to Paul’s key statement near the end of chapter 4 about the basis of his hope even in the midst of tribulations and suffering (4:8-12).

The reason Paul says he can live faithfully in the midst of suffering is that: “we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus, and will bring us with you into his presence” (2 Corinthians 4:14).

Note that there is no separation here of resurrection and being with Christ. Not only does Paul look forward to the resurrection, but he conceives of being in a resurrected (embodied) state in the Lord’s presence.

Being “in the Lord’s presence” in 4:14 is equivalent to  being “at home with the Lord” in 5:8. There is no convincing reason to separate this latter statement from Paul’s hope of resurrection, except that we are habituated to reading the text this way.

In context, Paul is not speaking of being with Christ immediately at death. Rather, he is looking to the second coming, at which time we will be raised and be with Christ in the new creation.

A plain reading of 2 Corinthians 5:6-9 in the context of 5:1-2 and especially 4:14 thus suggests that being at home with the Lord is nothing other than Paul’s expectation that the Lord will dwell with redeemed humanity in a new creation (the vision of Revelation 21-22).

Thus it is not at all clear that 2 Corinthians 5 actually teaches an intermediate (disembodied) state as any part of the Christian hope.

Beyond Lewis and Wright

Thus, much as I respect C. S. Lewis, I think he may have been wrong in his comment about the New Testament’s “casual and unemphatic assent” to personal survival at death. And N. T. Wright (a contemporary scholar for whom I have the utmost regard) may also have conceded too much in his claim that Second Temple Judaism and the New Testament typically assume an intermediate state. Having studied the relevant texts I am surprised at how little evidence there actually is for this idea in the New Testament, certainly less than I had expected.

In the end, however, it does not matter. Authentic Christian hope does not depend on an intermediate state; neither do Christians need the Platonic notion of an immortal soul in order to guarantee personal continuity between present earthly existence and future resurrection life.

The Basis for Christian Hope

The God who brought the universe into being is the guarantor of the eschatological future. In the memorable words of 2 Timothy 1:12 (which became the refrain of a famous 1883 hymn by Daniel W. Whittle): “I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day” (KJV). We place our hope in the God of Jesus Christ, the Lord of the universe, who is able to raise the dead and who has promised to renew heaven and earth.

Whatever we think about the intermediate state (and I acknowledge that belief in such a state is dear to many Christians), it is clear from Scripture that “heaven” is not the final destination of the redeemed. Even supposedly “problem” texts fit remarkably well with the dominant tenor of Scripture, which portrays the redemption of the entire created order and understands human redemption as the restoration of bodily life on earth—that is, the renewal of God’s creational intent from the beginning.

Does Tom Wright Believe in the Second Coming?

Tom Wright (a.k.a N. T. Wright) is a brilliant theologian and biblical scholar, who has shaken up many people’s assumptions about what the Bible actually teaches. He is especially well known for arguing that the Bible teaches a renewed earth, instead of our “going to heaven.” And he has attempted to redefine our interpretation of “justification” in Paul’s writings, by paying attention to first-century Judaism instead of reading later ideas back into Paul.

What makes Wright so interesting is that he affirms (and models) that it is possible to come up with new ideas and fresh interpretations of Scripture while standing firmly in the non-negotiable tradition of classic, orthodox Christianity.

This is not the place to comment on his view of justification (it’s not my expertise). And I have already indicated (in an earlier post) my basic agreement with his ideas of a renewed earth. Here I want just to clarify one point of his eschatology that is often misunderstood.

The need to clarify this point arose when I was writing my book on eschatology (A New Heaven and a New Earth), especially as I read those who were misinterpreting Wright.

Wright’s Preterism

Like most biblical scholars today (including myself), Wright affirms what is sometimes called a “preterist” position in relation to much biblical prophecy. Preterism is related to the grammatical term “preterite,” which refers to the past tense. So a preterite understanding of prophecy would say that the prophet was speaking about events in his own context (which is now past to us) and not referring explicitly to some distant future (the way prophecy is typically taken in dispensationalism).

For example, Isaiah’s Immanuel prophecy in Isaiah 7:14 was originally addressed to the court of faithless King Ahaz, and “the young woman” who would bear a son was either the prophet’s wife (mentioned in 8:3) or a member of the royal court (I lean towards the latter; note that “the young woman” suggests he is pointing at someone). In the original context, the royal son is probably Hezekiah, who is a sign of hope for besieged Judah.

Later, Matthew applies this prophecy typologically to Jesus (Matthew 1:23), in the context of another faithless Judahite ruler, King Herod, thus drawing a significant parallel between the crisis of the eighth century and his own day, where the birth of Jesus is the new and decisive sign of Immanuel (God-with-us).

Now, Wright is famous for being a preterist when it comes to interpreting the Olivet discourse, the dire predictions of the “end” of the world that Jesus gave on the Mount of Olives (in Matthew 24, Mark 13, and Luke 21). So he interprets the signs in the heavens, including the sun and moon being darkened, the stars falling from heaven, and the powers of heaven being shaken (Matthew 24:29; Mark 13:24-25; Luke 21:25-26) as a picturesque way of referring to momentous historical events (the Roman-Jewish war and the fall of Jerusalem).

Wright often cites the Jewish historian Josephus, who used similar language to describe these events.

But Wright also has good Old Testament precedent. As chap. 6 (“The Coming of God in Judgment and Salvation”) of my new eschatology book tries to show, OT judgment theophanies use extreme language of cosmic shaking to refer to what are clearly historical/political events of the time.

In the case of the Olivet discourse, most biblical scholars also think that a preterist interpretation works for much of what Jesus says there. But Wright thinks it applies to everything Jesus says there; according to Wright, Jesus isn’t referring at all to what we usually mean by the Parousia or the Second Coming.

What About the Second Coming?

This doesn’t mean Wright thinks the Bible never refers to the climactic return of Jesus to judge the world and usher in the kingdom of God in all its fullness. Otherwise, how could he be famous for teaching a doctrine of cosmic redemption, that God’s plan is to bring about “a new heaven and a new earth”?

Well, one way would be if language about “a new heaven and a new earth” was just a picturesque way to speak about momentous historical events (as it arguably is in Isaiah 65:17-25; but not, I think, in 2 Peter 3:13 and Revelation 21:1).

And there is, indeed, one stream of preterist interpretation in contemporary evangelical theology known as full or consistent preterism that assumes that no biblical prophecies refer to the distant future; all has already been fulfilled. Thus we are already living in the new heaven and new earth (and the resurrection has already happened).

This form of preterism is an outgrowth of post-millennialism, the idea that God is at work through the church to gradually bring the world to full submission to his will—except that there is no climactic second coming here (the post in post-millennialism referred to Christ’s return after the world had reached it millennial state).

Based on his interpretation of the Olivet discourse, Wright has often been read as if he supports consistent preterism. Sometimes this reading comes from adherents of this view who want him as an ally. In other cases, he is critiqued for holding this view.

A recent critique comes from Edward Adams, who frames his important book, The Stars Will Fall from Heaven: “Cosmic Catastrophe” in the New Testament and Its World (Library of New Testament Studies 347; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2007), in terms of a disagreement with Wright on this point (pp. 12-13). Adams takes issue with Wright’s claim that language of cosmic destruction does not refer to “the end of the space-time universe” (The New Testament and the People of God [Christian Origins and the Question of God 1; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992], p. 300), but rather speaks of historical events (such as the fall of Jerusalem).

Setting the Interpretation of Wright to Rights

The problem is that Adams conflates two claims Wright makes, which are actually quite distinct.

On the one hand, when it comes to the Olivet discourse and Jesus’ parables about the returning master/king, Wright indeed thinks that the referents are historical events in the near future (the fall of Jerusalem). We can certainly quibble about that (I actually think that Jesus’ teaching here could have double referents, as I explain in my forthcoming eschatology book, chap. 9: “Cosmic Destruction at Christ’s Return?”).

On the other hand, Wright’s claim that language of cosmic destruction does not intend the ending of the space-time cosmos makes an entirely different point, namely that God intends to redeem and renew the cosmos instead of destroying it and taking us to “heaven.” (I’m fully on board here.)

Wright actually made a concerted attempt to clarify his eschatological position as far back as 1999.

In The Challenge of Jesus: Rediscovering Who Jesus Was and Is (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1999), Wright explained that he was not denying a future cosmic coming of Christ: “Let me say this as clearly as I can (since I have often been misunderstood on this point)” (p. 117).

Although Wright indeed thinks that Jesus’ teaching in the Olivet discourse addresses immediate future judgment, and not the literal end of the world, he acknowledges that Jesus also anticipated a final cosmic redemption (for example, his mention in Matthew 19:28 of the coming “regeneration” or renewal of the world). Thus Wright states: “The belief that the creator God will at the last recreate the whole cosmos and that Jesus will be at the center of that new world is firmly and deeply rooted in the New Testament” (The Challenge of Jesus, p. 117).

This explains why Adams is confused by Wright’s interpretation of passages like Hebrews 12:26-27 and 2 Peter 3:5-13. Adams thinks that Wright is inconsistent to see these texts as referring to genuinely “cosmic change,” given his take on Wright’s “general claim” about New Testament eschatology (pp. 15-16). Adam’s perplexity surfaces especially in reference to Hebrews 12, when he twice mentions the interpretation “we might have expected” Wright to have (pp. 192–93).

The long and short of it is that Wright’s view of the local referents of the Olivet discourse should not be generalized into his overall eschatological position. Whether or not he himself would call it the “Second Coming,” Tom Wright clearly does believe in a future cosmic renewal of all things.

I’d call that the Second Coming.

What’s Dualism Got to Do with It? The Tom Wright Connection, Part 4

This is part 4 of a four-part post on my connections to N. T. Wright, the prolific New Testament scholar. For part 1, click here. For part 2, click here. For part 3, click here.

What’s Dualism Got to Do with It?

Although I’ve mentioned various two-way influences between Wright and Walsh-Middleton, the connection goes even deeper, and it begins back in 1983. This was when Wright was working on his first book, a commentary on Colossians and Philemon for the Tyndale series (published in 1988).

Wright was writing the Colossians material when Brian Walsh first got to know him at McGill. Based on their friendship, the two would meet regularly to discuss what Wright had written, and Brian would give feedback and critique.

As Brian tells it, he kept challenging the sacred/secular dualism with which Wright was reading Colossians. Wright kept separating salvation in Christ from life in the mundane realm (including the political realm). But according to Colossians 1:15-20, the same Christ through whom all things were created, and in whom all things hang together, is the one whom all things are reconciled. The creator and redeemer are one.

So Walsh and Wright did regular Bible study in Colossians together during the time when Walsh and I were completing our work on The Transforming Vision. And our critique of otherworldly dualism and our framing of salvation as God’s redemption of earthly life managed to impact Wright’s reading of Colossians.

Wright’s own account of how he came to shift from a dualistic worldview to a holistic vision is recounted in his autobiographical essay “My Pilgrimage in Theology,” Themelios, 18/2 (January 1993): 35. There Wright states:

In 1983 I started work on my Colossians commentary. By the time I finished it in 1985 I had undergone probably the most significant change of my theological life. Until then I had been basically, a dualist. The gospel belonged in one sphere, the world of creation and politics in another. Wrestling with Colossians 1:15-20 put paid to that. I am still working through the implications (and the resultant hostility in some quarters): my book New Tasks for a Renewed Church is a recent marker on this route.

Although this article doesn’t mention Brian’s role in the shift, Wright thanks Brian for his contribution at the start of the Tyndale commentary (p. 11).

Now, I’m not going to claim that Tom Wright got his emphasis on the redemption of creation from Walsh and Middleton in any simple or direct sense. But it looks like our early work on worldviews, dualism, and holistic salvation served as a catalyst for Wright at a formative phase of his theological development. At the very least, our work enabled Wright to see what was staring him in the face all along in the text of Colossians.

I started this four-part post with a comment about the similarity between Tom Wright and myself on the eschatological redemption of creation, a point that many have noted. I’ve tried to explain how that similarity may have come about. It is gratifying to think that the early work Brian Walsh and I did on holistic salvation may have made some small contribution to the development of Tom Wright’s powerful and illuminating eschatological vision.

In another post I explore ways in which I’m not quite on board with all of Tom Wright’s eschatology.

You can read about my 2017 visit with Tom Wright at St. Andrews in Scotland here.