What About the Rapture in 1 Thess 4? Problem Texts for Holistic Eschatology, Part 2

In an earlier post I noted that my new eschatology book, A New Heaven and a New Earth, examines “problem texts for holistic eschatology”—passages from the New Testament that suggest that the earth will be destroyed at Christ’s return or that seem to teach a heavenly destiny for believers.

One of the most prominent ideas that pops into the heads of many Christians when they think of eschatology is the “rapture,” the event when Christ will (supposedly) snatch up all living believers from earth to heaven at his return. Technically, the function of the rapture in dispensationalist theology (which is where it originated) is to temporarily remove Christians from the earth while the rest of the human population is subject to the terrible sufferings known as the Great Tribulation. But in the minds of most Christians, the rapture serves to emphasize that we can expect a heavenly destiny, while the earth will be destroyed.

Two Rapture Texts

There are two main New Testament texts that are typically thought to teach the rapture (though, as we shall see, only one of them is typically used by dispensationalist theologians).

The first text is 1 Thessalonians 4:17, where the Greek verb for being “caught up” (which is what “rapture” means) is harpazō. The English word “rapture” is derived from the Latin verb rapio, which was used in the Latin Vulgate to translate harpazō in 1 Thessalonians 4:17.

There is also a second text that is often appealed to in popular contemporary eschatology as support for the rapture, though the term there is “taken” (paralambanō), not “caught up” (Matthew 24:40-41; and its parallel text Luke 17:34-35).

In this post I will examine 1 Thessalonians 4:17 in the context of verses 13-18 (which is the relevant literary unit). I will examine Matthew 24 // Luke 17 in the next post.

The Point of 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

It is important to note at the outset that Paul’s point in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 is pastoral (he does not intend to teach eschatology). This is why he concludes by saying: “encourage one other with these words” (v. 18). Specifically, Paul is addressing the question of whether those who have died in the faith prior to the return of the Lord will be disadvantaged at Christ’s return.

He affirms that they will not be disadvantaged. Indeed, the dead in Christ will have precedence over the living, since they will be raised first. “Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and so we will be with the Lord forever” (1 Thess 4:17). Paul is thus encouraging the church in Thessaloniki, emphasizing that they don’t need to worry about those from their midst who have passed away before the second coming.

The Ambiguity of Where “We Will Be with the Lord”

Nevertheless, verse 17 certainly seems, at first blush, to support the idea of living eternally in heaven, since having met the Lord in the air, “we will be with the Lord forever.” It is intriguing, however, that the text does not actually say where we will be with the Lord forever. This has to be supplied by the interpreter from the tenor of the rest of Scripture. As I argue throughout the rest of the eschatology book, Scripture suggests this will be on earth.

This conclusion is confirmed when we explore the meaning of two loaded terms that Paul uses, both of which have political overtones.

The Significance of the Lord’s “Coming” (parousia)

First of all, Paul refers to the “coming [parousia] of the Lord” (1 Thess 4:15). As is now recognized by New Testament scholars, parousia often refers to an official divine or imperial visit—the “coming” of a god or a king to a city, which clearly makes sense in our text. The parousia in ancient times was a matter of great celebration, with much pomp and ceremony, thus Paul’s reference to the public announcement of Christ’s parousia by “the archangel’s call” and “the sound of God’s trumpet” (1 Thess 4:16), and also the important issue of who would meet the Lord first.

The Idea of “Meeting” (apantēsis)

Associated with the parousia is the idea of apantēsis (“meeting”), which Paul mentions in verse 17. The expression eis apantēsin or its variant eis hupantēsin (literally, “to a meeting” in the accusative case) is usually translated verbally, as an action (“to meet”). New Testament scholars have pointed out that this served as a quasi-technical term for sending a delegation outside the walls of a city to formally receive a dignitary. Note that at Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, people “took branches of palm trees and went out to meet [hupantēsis] him,” acclaiming him the “King of Israel” (John 12:13).

The two related nouns hupantēsis and apantēsis are also found in Jesus’ parable of the wise and foolish virgins (or bridesmaids) in Matthew 25:1-13 (vv. 1 and 6, respectively). The wise ones, who were prepared for the bridegroom’s coming, “went out to meet him” (Matt 25:6) and then escorted him to the wedding banquet.

Paul himself experienced this sort of reception on his trip to Rome. “The believers from there, when they heard of us, came as far as the Forum of Appius and Three Taverns to meet [apantēsis] us” (Acts 28:15).

Paul’s Application of apantēsis to the Return of Christ

It was customary for people to vie for pride of place in meeting the coming dignitary, hence Paul’s assurance in 1 Thessalonians 4:15-16 that Christians who had already died would not be inconvenienced at this great event; rather they would rise first (and thus be the first to meet the coming King).

Since cemeteries were located outside city walls in the first century, often lining the main road leading to the city, Paul’s readers could vividly imagine the scenario of the dead in Christ being raised as the King passed by, before those in the city went out to meet him as he approached the city gates. This also makes sense of Paul’s statement that “God will bring with him [Christ] those who have died” (1Thess 4:14); this suggests that those raised from the graves, who have met the returning Lord, will then enter the city with him.

The most important point in the above scenario is that those who went out to meet the dignitary returned with him, escorting him in grand procession into their city. In this case, this clearly means an escort to earth.

Beyond the background custom of an imperial visit (represented by parousia and apantēsis) and the clear biblical teaching of the redemption of creation, there are further reasons to doubt that 1 Thessalonians means to teach the rapture, as classically understood.

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 Describes a Public Event

First, the rapture is supposed to be a secret event, yet the coming of Christ in 1 Thessalonians 4 is announced with great fanfare, “with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call and with the sound of God’s trumpet” (1 Thess 4:16). This is similar to the sound of the trumpet in 1 Corinthians 15:51-52, which describes the suddenness of Christ’s coming, accompanied by the transformation of living believers and the resurrection of those who have died.

“Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.” (1 Cor 15:51-52)

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 Is About the Resurrection and the Final State

Furthermore, in its most popular form, the rapture is meant to remove living believers from earth so that the Tribulation can begin (all dead believers are already in heaven). But in 1 Thessalonians 4 Paul speaks of both dead and living believers rising to meet Christ. The text is thus not about removal of believers from earth at all. Like 1 Corinthians 15, 1 Thessalonians 4 addresses the resurrection of the dead and transformation of the living that will accompany Christ’s decisive coming as Lord to judge the world and make all things new.

My analysis of Matthew 24 and the rapture is next.

 

 

Problem Texts for Holistic Eschatology, Part 1

The primary thrust of my book, A New Heaven and a New Earth, is that the proper and legitimate hope of New Testament eschatology is the resurrection of the body and the renewal of creation. This is in contrast to the idea of “going to heaven,” which has often been the way Christian hope has been thought of in the church.

From Creation to Eschaton

The book begins by exploring God’s purposes from the beginning for the human race in the context of creation, then sketches the overarching story the Bible tells, in order to exhibit its core logic, namely God’s desire to restore and renew the created order (these two chapters constitute Part 1: “From Creation to Eschaton”).

Holistic Salvation in the Old Testament

The book then goes on to examine how the Old Testament understands God’s purposes for earthly flourishing (Part 2: “Holistic Salvation in the Old Testament”), illustrating this from the exodus, law, wisdom, and the prophets, while also addressing texts that portray God coming in a judgment theophany, which seems to involve earthly destruction.

The New Testament’s Vision of Cosmic Renewal

Parts 1 and 2 lay the foundation for Part 3: “The New Testament’s Vision of Cosmic Renewal.” This is the core of the book. Here I clarify the relationship of bodily resurrection to the original human calling to be stewards of the earth (chap. 7: “Resurrection and the Restoration of Rule”), and then address the explicit motif of cosmic redemption in the New Testament, looking at key texts in Acts, the Pauline literature, 2 Peter, and Revelation (chap. 8: “The Redemption of All Things”).

Problem Texts for Holistic Eschatology

However, In the course of writing the book, I decided that I needed to deal with passages that have often been raised (throughout my teaching career and in the secondary literature) as objections against the idea that creation (including earth) will be redeemed  (Part 4: “Problem Texts for Holistic Eschatology”). Although I had touched on some of these passages in a cursory way in my earlier essay on eschatology, I decided to devote two chapters to the subject here. One chapter examines New Testament texts that seem to portray the destruction of the earth when Christ returns; the other addresses passages that seem to suggest a heavenly destiny for believers.

In a series of posts to follow, I plan on examining a few of these “problem texts,” to give a glimpse of what you can expect in the book. It turns out that not one of these texts is really a problem for holistic eschatology when read in context for what it really says. I’ll start with two posts on the “rapture” (one on 1 Thessalonians 4 and the other on Matthew 24).

Further Thoughts on the Imago Dei: After The Liberating Image

A blogger on the Jesus Creed website who goes by the initials RJS recently posted a series on my book The Liberating Image: The Imago Dei in Genesis 1. This is my guest post response, in which I describe how my thinking on the imago Dei has developed since the book was published.  It is posted at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/jesuscreed/2014/08/05/richard-middleton-after-the-liberating-image-rjs/

Blogger Jon Garvey responded positively to this post here and raised some interpretive questions, which I then answered here.

Richard Middleton: After The Liberating Image.

I’m honored that RJS has posted a nine-part series on my book The Liberating Image: The Imago Dei in Genesis 1 (Brazos, 2005). The exposition and analysis of my argument in these posts has been totally accurate (something I have only rarely found in book reviews). In this post I am responding to RJS’s invitation to share some of my more recent thoughts on the topic of the imago Dei.

My Purpose in The Liberating Image

In The Liberating Image I was primarily concerned to bridge the gap between Old Testament studies and systematic theology on the topic of the imago Dei. So I took pains to justify a royal-functional interpretation of the image (the mainstream view among Old Testament scholars), the view that humans are God’s royal representatives on earth, charged with manifesting his rule through the range of their cultural activities. I attempted to do this by interpreting Genesis 1:26-28 in its immediate literary context (Genesis 1:1-2:3), in the wider symbolic world of the Old Testament, and against the background of ancient Near Eastern (especially Mesopotamian) royal ideology and creation myths. And I tried to show that this interpretation made sense of Genesis 1-11 as a coherent narrative meant to shape the worldview of ancient Israel (and, by implication, the church today). To that end I addressed some of the ethical implications of the imago Dei especially concerning the legitimation of violence.

Topics Omitted from The Liberating Image

There was, of course, much more that could be said. I had originally planned to include an analysis of the critique of idolatry and monarchy in the Old Testament prophets, and I had wanted to address Jesus as imago Dei, the renewal of image in the church, and the fulfillment of the imago Dei in the eschaton. This ended up being beyond the scope of the book.

I had, however, touched on some of those topics earlier—in The Transforming Vision: Shaping a Christian World View (a 1984 book co-authored with Brian Walsh) and in “The Liberating Image? Interpreting the Imago Dei in Context” (a 1994 article in Christian Scholar’s Review).

My Recent Writing on the Imago Dei

Since writing The Liberating Image, I have developed my ideas further about the meaning of the imago Dei. I wrote a short piece on “Image of God” for the Dictionary of Scripture and Ethics (Baker Academic, 2011) and a slightly longer piece for the Encyclopedia of the Bible and Theology (Oxford University Press, forthcoming). But I’ve also been working on a new book entitled A New Heaven and a New Earth: Reclaiming Biblical Eschatology (Baker Academic, 2014). Although the topic of this book is God’s desire to redeem this world, rather than taking us out of it to “heaven,” my latest thinking on the imago Dei is central to the book’s argument.

A New Focus to My Exposition of the Topic

In these recent writings, as in my current teaching on the subject (in courses on the biblical worldview), I have nuanced my presentation beyond what is found in The Liberating Image, and have begun to highlight what we might call the cultic-priestly (or sacramental) dimension of the royal-functional interpretation of the image. This dimension of the imago Dei was mentioned in The Liberating Image at various points (especially in chapters 2 and 3), but is now central to my exposition. I typically begin with creation as a cosmic temple and God’s intent to fill the cosmos with his presence or glory (which Jewish writers later called the Shekinah); this eschatological filling is anticipated in the wilderness tabernacle (Exodus 40:34-35) and the Jerusalem temple (1 Kings 8:10-11; 2 Chronicles 7:1-3), which were both filled with God’s glory upon completion.

I have come to see that temple theology (and humanity as God’s image in the cosmic temple) is an important way of developing a biblical theology that unifies both Old and New Testaments.

The Conceptual Unity of Genesis 1 and 2

Although the Spirit (rûaḥ) of God was hovering over the unformed earth at the start of Genesis 1, as if God were getting ready to breathe his presence into the cosmic temple of creation, when creation is complete and God rests from his work (Genesis 2), there is no mention of any filling with the divine presence. Interpreted in canonical context, this Spirit-filling is delayed until the garden narrative of Genesis 2. There God, having molded the human being from the dust of the ground, breathes his breath (nišmâ) into the inanimate creature, which results in the creature’s becoming a “living being.”

The creation of the first human in Genesis 2 reflects many aspects of a Mesopotamian ritual known as the mïs pî (the washing of the mouth) or pït pî (the opening of the mouth). Known from Assyrian and Babylonian writings, this ritual typically took place in a sacred grove beside a river (see Genesis 2:10, 13-14). The purpose of the ritual was to vivify a newly carved cult statue so that it would become a living entity, imbued with the spirit and presence of the god of which it was an image. The image was thus transformed from an inert object to a living, breathing, manifestation of the deity on earth.

When read against this ancient Near Eastern background, Genesis 1 and 2 are in profound harmony with each other, despite their genuine differences. In both texts humanity is understood as the authorized cult statue in the cosmic temple, the decisive locus of divine presence on earth. This understanding of the human role means that God never intended his presence to fill the cosmic temple automatically. That is precisely the vocation of humanity, the bearer of the divine presence.

It was God’s purpose, from the beginning, to bring the cosmic temple to its intended destiny by human agency, in cooperation with God. So humans (as image of God) were to fill the earth with descendants (Genesis 1:28) who would represent God’s rule in their cultural pursuits and flourish in accordance with God’s wisdom. The human race was created to extend the presence of God from heaven (the cosmic holy of holies) to earth (the holy place) until the earth is filled with the glory of God as the waters cover the sea (combining Numbers 14:21; Isaiah 11:9; Habakkuk 2:14); or, to use Pauline language, when God will be all in all (1 Corinthians 15:28).

The Imago Dei after Sin

Humans, however, have filled the earth not simply with their descendants but also with violence (Genesis 6:11 is an ironic comment on Genesis 1:28). And whereas in the beginning God looked at all he had made and saw that it was “very good” (Genesis 1:31), God later sees that the “evil” of humanity has become “great” on the earth (Genesis 6:5). These ironic statements follow from God’s earlier assessment that humans, created to be God’s image, had indeed become “like one of us” (Genesis 3:22)—though not in the appropriate sense.

From this point on, Scripture tells a story of God’s purposes for the restoration of flourishing in earthly life in tension with the human propensity to misuse the vocation of imago Dei (which clearly continues after sin; see Genesis 5:1 and 9:6).

Since violence has impeded the human calling to be God’s image on earth, the Bible narrates God’s intervention in history to set things right, initially through the election of Abraham and his descendants as a “royal priesthood” (Exodus 19:6) to mediate blessing to all families and nations (Genesis 12:3; 18:18; 22:18; 26:4; 28:14). Israel’s vocation vis-à-vis the nations is analogous to the human calling as imago Dei vis-à-vis the earth. And the redemption of Israel constitutes the beginning of God’s renewal of the image, a process meant to spread to the entire human race.

The Imago Dei and Idolatry

One aspect of human sin is idolatry (the construction and worship of false images of the divine). It is significant that Israel, as representative of humanity, is portrayed in Ezekiel as God’s true image in the world, in contrast to idols. Much of the language in Ezekiel 16 describing Israel’s turn to idols (see verses 15-19) is first used by God to portray his relationship to Israel; he washes them, clothes them, and adorns them with gold and silver (Ezekiel 16:8-14). Israel (like humanity, generally) is God’s own cult statue in the world.

The imago Dei theme recurs in Isaiah 40-55; where the presence of God’s Spirit (rûaḥ) on the servant of the LORD enables him to accomplish justice for the nations (Isaiah 42:1-4). This is in contrast to the images of the nations, which are “empty wind” (rûaḥ vatohû), according to Isaiah 41:29. But God gives “breath” (nišmâ) and “spirit” (rûaḥ) to humanity (Isaiah 42:5). This contrast between idols and humans in Isaiah echoes the statement in other prophetic texts that the images of the nations are false precisely because they have no rûaḥ in them (Jeremiah 10:14; 51:17; Habakkuk 2:19). Unlike humans, idols are not living images and have no power to act in the world (Psalm 115:4-8).

Incarnation and Imago Dei

A cultic-priestly understanding of the imago Dei not only clarifies the human vocation, both in its created dignity and in its tragic corruption, it also provides a basis for understanding the New Testament claim that Jesus is God-with-us (Matthew 1:22-23), the Word made flesh (John 1:14), the paradigmatic imago Dei (Colossians 1:15; Hebrews 1:3; 2 Corinthians 4:4-6). Humans as God’s image had failed in their priestly vocation to be the bond between heaven and earth. This vocation was faithfully fulfilled by Jesus, the second Adam (1 Corinthians 15:22, 25), the one who completely manifested God’s character and presence in his life (John 14:9). Through the obedience of Jesus, even to death on a cross, humanity’s tragic failure has been reversed (Romans 5:17-19); and those who share in Christ’s death will also share in his resurrection and rule (2 Timothy 2:11-12a).

The Church as Imago Dei and Temple

A cultic-priestly interpretation of the imago Dei also grounds the Pauline notion that the risen Jesus has become the head of an international community of Jew and Gentile, indwelt by God’s Spirit. The church is thus the “new humanity” (a better translation than the “new self” found in most modern translations), renewed in the image of God (Ephesians 4:24; Colossians 3:9-10) and called to live up to the stature of Christ, whose perfect imaging becomes the model for the life of the redeemed (Philippians 2:5; Ephesians 4:13-16, 24; 5:1-2; Colossians 3:13). Indeed, the church will one day be conformed to the full likeness of Christ (1 John 3:2), which will include the resurrection of the body (1 Corinthians 15:49).

The Imago Dei in the Eschaton

Whereas the church is presently God’s temple (1 Corinthians 3:16-17; 6:19; 2 Corinthians 6:16; Ephesians 2:21) indwelt by the Holy Spirit as a foretaste of the promised future, the day will come when the curse is removed from the earth (a reversal of Genesis 3:17). Then God’s dwelling will no longer be confined to heaven. Instead, God’s throne will permanently be established on a renewed earth (Revelation 21:3; 22:3), and those ransomed by Christ from all tribes and nations will reign as priests forever (Revelation 5:9-10; 22:5). This climactic fulfillment of the imago Dei is portrayed by the New Jerusalem, which (paradoxically) is both redeemed people and holy city (that is, the renewal of humanity in all their concrete, cultural—even urban—reality). Furthermore, the city is described as a cube (Revelation 21:16), which is the distinctive shape of the holy of holies in the Jerusalem temple (1 Kings 6:20; Ezekiel 41:4). Thus the city-as-people is the center of God’s presence in a renewed cosmos.

While there is much more that could be said on this topic, the cultic-priestly understanding of the imago Dei provides an interpretive lens that unifies the entire canonical story from creation to eschaton; and it can shape our understanding of the church’s mission as we live between the times.

If you want to respond to this post you can post comments here or you can add your comments to those already posted at the Jesus Creed website: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/jesuscreed/2014/08/05/richard-middleton-after-the-liberating-image-rjs/

For Jon Garvey’s response to this post click here; for my answer to his questions, click here.