More Discussion and Clarification of My Views on Eschatology (Jesus Creed Blog)

A couple days ago Scot McKnight (New Testament scholar; prolific author and blogger) posted a review of my book, A New Heaven and a New Earth. This generated a number of comments, some of which seemed to misunderstand what I was saying, so I responded with clarifications. I then got further questions, and I responded again. I’ve highlighted below some of my responses, for those interested.

The Motive for Ethical Living Today

One commenter wondered whether “new heavens and new earth eschatology should be a motive and basis for caring for creation and culture,” since there are people without this eschatology who are, in fact, concerned for this world.

This is how I responded:

I am basically a Wesleyan in orientation. This means that it isn’t some abstract concept of the eschaton that motivates me to care about this world. Rather, as one who passionately desires to be conformed to God’s image and thus to manifest what Wesley called “social holiness” in my life of discipleship, I want to love what God loves.

So I understand the promise of the renewal of creation, which began with Christ’s resurrection, and which can be a reality in the life of the church, to signify the heart of God.

My motivation to love the world (human and non-human) with God’s love, empowered by Christ’s Spirit, and thus manifest the imago Dei, is grounded in God’s unswerving commitment to humanity and creation after sin (see Genesis 9), and to Israel after the idolatry of the Golden Calf (see Exodus 34), and to the disciples after their abandonment of Jesus (and I could keep adding to that pattern, which recurs throughout Scripture), which culminates with the new heaven and new earth or the reconciliation of all things through Christ.

Have Christians Throughout History Always Thought of “Heaven” as Otherworldly?

On of the points that Scot McKnight himself raised in the review is that it is inaccurate to characterize all Christian speculation about the afterlife as otherworldly.

I responded:

I wanted to comment on your point that the history of eschatology suggests that not all Christian visions of the afterlife have consisted in an otherworldly, ethereal “heaven.” You’re absolutely right there, as I think my survey of eschatology (in the Appendix to my book) verifies.

However, you seem to be claiming more than I do, namely that it has been somewhat common for Christians to envision a new heaven and new earth as the final state (and you mention the history of heaven book by McDannell and Lang). I’m not sure I agree. Or, at least, it may be that I interpret the same data differently.

Part of the issue is that it has been typical to envision “heaven” in concrete earthly terms, while believing that it is some sort of hyper (non-earthly) reality. This is analogous to the point Caroline Walker Bynum makes in her book, The Resurrection of the Body in Western Christianity, 200-1336. She notes that despite the influence of Platonism on Christian visions of the afterlife, the impact of the biblical teaching of the resurrection of the body led even those Christians who shunned a physical vision of the eschaton to conceive of immaterial “bodies” (whatever that means). Likewise, it seems to me that many have transferred concrete elements of the known world to the afterlife, even when the final reality is thought of as immaterial.

Beyond that, however, many Christians (especially in modern times) have envisioned the afterlife as a perfect replica of this world, without thinking of of it as the redemption of this world. Rather, what is envisioned is another, better world. To me, this difference is crucial, since it is the renewal of this world that articulates the vision I am interested in (even a replacement cosmos won’t do).

How Often Does the Bible Speak of New Creation?

One of the points McKnight made is that only Isaiah and Revelation speak of “a new heaven and a new earth,” so we shouldn’t think that this theme is all that common in the Bible. I was not the only person who responded to this point. One respondent pointed out the transformation of the cosmos mentioned in Hebrews 1 and 12, and in Romans 8.

So I joined the discussion:

I would agree that Isaiah 65:17-25 (also 66:22) and Revelation 21:1 aren’t the only places in Scripture that address the new creation. Beyond these two texts that explicitly use the phrase “a new heaven and a new earth,” there is 2 Peter 3:13.

But, of course, as you intimate, new creation is addressed in many more places in the Bible than where the phrase “a new heaven and a new earth” appears.

In the book, I address some of the clearest New Testament texts, such as Acts 3:21 (the restoration of “all things”), Ephesians 1:10 (the gathering up of “all things” in Christ), Colossians 1:20 (the reconciliation of “all things” in Christ), and Romans 8 (the liberation of creation itself from its bondage to decay, so that it might experience the same glory as the children of God). Both the Ephesians and Colossian texts specify “all things” as all things in heaven and on earth, thereby alluding to the cosmos God made in the beginning (when God created “the heaven and the earth”).

But many other texts also address the same reality, using different language. I actually address the text in Hebrews that speaks of the “changing” of the cosmos (parallel to Paul talking about being changed and clothed with the resurrection body, like a new suit of clothes, in 1 Corinthians 15:50-54).

So I think the theme of new creation is much broader than the phrase “a new heaven and a new earth.” Part of the thrust of my book is to show this pervasiveness, which is not limited to specific lexical items. The book is thus an attempt at a biblical theology of the eschaton, where the eschaton is the logical unfolding and natural telos of God’s purposes from the beginning for the flourishing of the world he made.

Whatever Happened to the New Earth?

Here is  a post I wrote for the Baker Academic Blog, introducing my new eschatology book (it covers some ground I have previously blogged about). You can read the post in its original context on the Baker Academic Blog here.

My book, A New Heaven and a New Earth, has been a long time coming.

I wrote it over the last few years. But I’ve been working on it most of my life.

I grew up in Kingston, Jamaica, and enjoyed the beautiful Caribbean Sea ever since I was a toddler. But it wasn’t until I was nineteen that I began to go on hiking trips to Blue Mountain Peak, the highest point on the island.

On one such trip, I watched a breathtaking sunrise at seven and a half thousand feet above sea level. After some minutes of silence, my friend Junior commented wistfully, “This is so beautiful; it’s such a shame that it will all be destroyed some day.” I still remember the dawning awareness: I don’t think it will be. It did not make sense to me that the beauty and wonder of earthly life, which I was coming to embrace joyfully as part of my growing Christian faith, could be disconnected from God’s ultimate purposes of salvation.

Cover ArtTracking a Worldview Shift

This basic intuition or theological insight was confirmed by my study of Scripture during my undergraduate studies at Jamaica Theological Seminary.

Most contemporary Christians tend to live with an unresolved tension between a belief in the resurrection of the body and an immaterial heaven as final destiny. Many also have in the back of their minds the idea of the new heaven and new earth (from the book of Revelation), though they aren’t quite sure what to do with it.

I myself started my theological studies with this very confusion. But as I took courses in both Old and New Testaments and tried to understand the nature of God’s salvation as portrayed in the various biblical writings, it became increasingly clear that the God who created the world “very good” (Genesis 1:31), and who became incarnate in Jesus Christ as a real human being, had affirmed by these very acts the value of the material universe and the validity of ordinary, earthly life.

More than that, I came to realize that the Scriptures explicitly teach that God is committed to reclaiming creation (human and nonhuman) in order to bring it to its authentic and glorious destiny, a destiny that human sin had blocked.

It was during my junior year of theological studies that I came to the startling realization that the Bible nowhere claims that “heaven” is the final home of the redeemed. While there are many New Testament texts that Christians often read as if they teach a heavenly destiny, the texts do not actually say this. Rather, the Bible consistently anticipates the redemption of the entire created order, a motif that fits very well with the Christian hope of the resurrection—which Paul calls “the redemption of the body” (Romans 8:23).

It was after this startling realization that I first challenged an adult Sunday School class I was teaching at Grace Missionary Church (my home church in Jamaica) to find even one passage in the New Testament that clearly said that Christians would live in heaven forever or that heaven was the final home of the righteous.

I even offered a monetary reward if anyone could find such a text. I have been making this offer now for my entire adult life to church and campus ministry study groups and in many of the courses I have taught; I am happy to report that I still have all my money. No one has ever produced such a text, because there simply aren’t any in the Bible.

The Bible’s Best-Kept Secret

After my theological studies in Jamaica I moved to Canada to pursue graduate studies. During this time I coauthored a book with my friend Brian Walsh on developing a Christian worldview entitled The Transforming Vision. This book not only advocated a holistic worldview, without a sacred/secular split, it also explicitly grounded this worldview in the biblical teaching of the redemption of creation, including both the physical cosmos and human culture and society.

After writing The Transforming Vision together, Brian and I teamed up some ten years later to address the implications of this same holistic vision for postmodern culture in Truth Is Stranger Than It Used to Be, which, like the former book, combined biblical studies with cultural analysis.

Since that time the focus of my research has shifted more and more toward biblical studies, particularly Old Testament, the primary academic field in which I teach and write. In all my teaching and writing the consistent background assumption has been the same basic vision of holistic salvation that I have been working with since my undergraduate days in Jamaica—though in recent years I have been able to flesh this out in much more detail.

This holistic vision of God’s intent to renew or redeem creation is perhaps the Bible’s best-kept secret, typically unknown to most church members and even to many clergy, no matter what their theological stripe.

Having had to explain that the Bible envisions a new earth as the final destiny of the redeemed in many different settings and to different audiences, I finally decided to write an article that would marshal the central biblical evidence (as I understood it) for a holistic understanding of salvation, with a focus on eschatology. The article, entitled “A New Heaven and a New Earth,” was published in 2006.

The Time Is Ripe

Soon after its publication Rodney Clapp, who was then senior editor of Brazos Press/Baker Academic, suggested that I turn the article into a book. “The time is ripe,” he said, over a spicy dinner of Thai food, for an accessible and clear book-length statement of holistic eschatology. This book is my attempt to respond to Rodney’s eschatological-sounding challenge.

Whereas earlier centuries have attempted to clarify theological topics such as the incarnation, the Trinity, or justification by faith, the twentieth century has seen more intense focus on eschatology than ever before. Yet much of this eschatological reflection has been confused and inchoate, conflating an unbiblical impetus to transcend earthly life with the biblical affirmation of earthly life. This is true among both professional theologians and church members, and also among Christians of differing theological traditions.

The time is ripe, therefore, for a clearly articulated Christian eschatology rooted in responsible exegesis of Scripture, which is also attuned to the theological claims and ethical implications of the Bible’s vision of salvation. This eschatology will also need to be serviceable for the church, pointing the way toward faithful living in the here and now.

This book is one small contribution toward such an eschatology. Its primary purpose is to clarify how New Testament eschatology, rather than being a speculative add-on to the Bible, actually coheres with, and is the logical outworking of, the consistently holistic theology of the entirety of Scripture. It is the primary purpose of this book to sketch the coherent biblical theology (beginning in the Old Testament) that culminates in the New Testament’s explicit eschatological vision of the redemption of creation.

Along the way the book also explores some of the ethical implications of holistic eschatology for our present life in God’s world. And it investigates what happened to the biblical vision of the redemption of the earth in the history of Christian eschatology, tracing the loss of this vision and its partial recovery in recent times.

Designed to Work: Made in God’s Image—A Post from Bob Robinson

Hands.

Hands that can hold a wrench or a paintbrush or a guitar or a scalpel or a child.

Eyes.

Eyes that can look through a telescope to study the glory of the heavens and through a microscope to investigate the intricacies of cells. Eyes that can gaze upon that which is beautiful and that which is ugly. Eyes that can see what is right and what needs to be corrected.

Ears. Toes. Biceps. Knees. Nostrils.

In the beginning there was God, designing a world that he deemed “very good” (Genesis 1:31). And at the pinnacle of this amazing creation were the human beings. Designed by God for amazing and various tasks. Designed by God for His glory.

Yes, human beings are glorious creatures. We are glorious because we reflect the glory of God, who said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground” (Gen. 1:26).

Over against the novel idea that we need to find our self-esteem and find affirmation about how great we are, the Bible says we inherently have dignity because we have been made to reflect God as image bearers. This is both an ennobling thing and a humbling thing, for the glory of being a human being is a derived glory. It shines only because God made us this way, and it is spectacular only because it is a reflection of God.

The Image of God

For centuries, there has been a lot of speculation on what this “image and likeness” means—some say it is our ability to reason, others say it is our ability to relate to one another. Could be. Probably these are major parts of what it means.

But what does the actual text say? According to Genesis 1:28, the image of God looks like a job description!

  1. Be fruitful and increase in number
  2. Fill the earth
  3. Subdue and rule the earth

First, we are designed to be fruitful in making babies and thus making communities of people, living together in flourishing relationships. In other words, reflecting the triune God, we are to relate with each other, lovingly providing for each other’s needs. Families, friends, neighbors, co-workers, and customers. Neighborhoods, towns, cities, states, nations, and the world.

I need to contemplate my relationships for a moment. How am I nurturing them, making space for connections, for hospitality, for conversations? How am I seeking the welfare of the community in which God has placed me (see Jer. 29:7)?

Second, we were designed to fill the earth with our cultural goods, making stuff from the raw material that God has so graciously created. In other words, we are to reflect the creator God by creating stuff ourselves. The whole earth is filled with God’s glory—all we need to do is look around us at the marvels of his creation. Now God tells us to fill the earth as well. And as we do so, the earth is filled with even more of his glory.

Therefore, I need to remember that my work has deep significance. When I contribute to culture by working to provide goods and services, I am reflecting the good Creator of all things, filling the earth with the good things that provide for those around me. How am I participating with God in bringing blessing to others through my work? How is my work a very practical means to love my neighbor?

Third, we are designed to subdue and rule the earth, to place it under our benevolent control. In other words, God makes us his vice-regents in charge of his good creation. But rather than doing what humans often do, we are not to exploit it; we are to “cultivate and care for it” (see Gen. 2:15). And the good creation is not merely limited to the natural beauty of birds and trees, sea and fish, and mountains and elk. The good creation is also all the things that God has dialed into the world—families, business, education, government, entertainment, etc. God is the Lord of it all and has placed us in charge under his rule.

How am I doing in this task of watching over the things of this world? What can I do to see God’s Kingdom come and will be done on earth as it is in heaven? Where I see things that are good, beautiful, and right, how can I help these things develop and be sustained? Where I see things that are wrong, unjust, or sinful, what is God calling me to do about it?

Designed to Work: From Architects to Computer Technicians to Farmers

So it is a very practical thing, this image of God in mankind. We see it play out in all sorts of ways, in all sorts of people, in all sorts of fields.

Take David Greusel, for example. He’s an architect that has figured out how his gift for design reflects God’s glory. David writes,

What does redeemed architecture look like? Does it have Bible verses encoded in the decoration? Scrolls of scripture hidden in the mortar joints? I think not. To my way of thinking, redemptive design seeks the good of the city, and of the people in the city, whether they live or work in the building or not. This means the building has to be a good neighbor, reinforcing the street and not alienating passers-by. It should promote human flourishing, whether as a place of dwelling, work, or recreation, and help people to be, in Andy Crouch’s phrase, most gloriously themselves. And regardless of its use, it should point to a higher reality, not with encoded Bible verses, but with excellence in design and craft. (“Designed to Work: Redeeming Architecture” by David Greusel)

Or look over at Mike Wittmer’s friend Jordan, a computer technician. As Mike observed this young Christian man in his work, juggling the task of fixing the computer in front of him while fielding phone calls for tech support, he is in awe.

Jordan’s job contributes to this larger endeavor. His behind the scenes role supports the technology that enables others to make something of the world … He never lost his composure through the entire ordeal. He exuded patience, the fruit of the Spirit that takes the longest to ripen, and so showed that he has been walking with Jesus for a long time. (“Designed to Work: What Do You Make Possible?” by Mike Wittmer)

And then there’s Billy Coffey’s story of farmers Clive and Darrell Howard, father and son. Darrell has decided that the life of farming is not what he wants, so he plans, “The university first, and then a proper job. Someplace in the city. Downtown, with a view of the skyline instead of the ridgeline. Suits instead of coveralls. Early retirement. The country club.” Clive wants the best for Darrell, but he worries that Darrell has not grasped the goodness of God’s design for hard work. He wants his son to experience how work, in and of itself, brings purpose.

It isn’t that he views his son’s goals as less than the life Darrell had been born into. Whether sitting in a corner office or plowing the back forty, so long as Darrell works, Clive will be happy. Work itself is Clive’s concern, and not specifically on the farm. What place will work have in the life of his son? That’s what Clive Howard wonders.(“Designed to Work: Are We Meant for Toil?” by Billy Coffey)

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Bob Robinson is a writer, speaker, mistake repeater, forgetful husband, silly father, and depender on grace and mercy. He consults with (re)integrate, he ministers with CCO, and he edits with The High Calling, where the above post originally appeared as part of a blog series entitled “Designed for Work” (see below) Read more of Bob’s work at www.re-integrate.org/magazine. Follow his tweets @Bob_Robinson_re.

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Designed to Work

“We are exploring together. We are cultivating a garden together, backs to the sun. The question is a hoe in our hands and we are digging beneath the hard and crusty surface to the rich humus of our lives.” Parker J. Palmer, Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation.

Work is not a curse. Before the Fall, God placed Adam and Eve in the garden and invited them to participate with him by cultivating the earth and tilling the soil and coaxing seedlings to find the sun. Our work is one way we participate in restoration. We were designed to work, and our good work is worship. In this series, Designed to Work, we’ll explore together and celebrate the gift of work, given to us by a God who loves us deeply.