Journey to the End of the World

Well, 2012 seems a good a year as any to figure out my eschatology, what with the end of the world supposedly on its way! You see, I’m somewhat of an eschatological orphan at the moment. I grew up with Classical Pentecostal dispensationalism, but over the years have become disenchanted with aspects of it. I have come across snatches of other systems that appeal to me, but I haven’t invested any time in really delving into the subject.

Since it’s a favourite topic with my husband, Micah, he’s been after me for ages to nail down my eschatology. Some of our most heated arguments have been theological in nature, and eschatological in particular. But it’s hard to debate when I’m not even sure what my own ground rules are anymore.

So what’s my problem anyway? Why ditch dispensationalism? The big chart of the end times figured heavily in my doctrinal upbringing. I remember a larger than life version of it in my little church basement as a kid. We had to memorize and be able to draw the events in sequence in Bible College.

I’m not sure that I really questioned it until I hit Wycliffe College, an Anglican seminary. I know, the big bad seminary that poisons young evangelicals with liberal thinking and makes them doubt their faith. Only, it wasn’t like that. Wycliffe was evangelical by its own definition. And my faith was strengthened in my time there, precisely through various challenges by thinkers of other theological stripes.

As a Pentecostal, I was somewhat of a curiosity to others. I remember another student asking me if Pentecostals were fundamentalists. I said I supposed so, not really seeing what they were on about. And then there were the little pokes at the rapture in Systematic Theology class – the rapture seemed more of a joke than anything to these Anglicans. And finally I realized they just didn’t have a clue when, in a class on the history of biblical interpretation, a dispensationalist chart of the end times was presented as a novelty item. Really? I could have walked right up to the chalkboard and drawn the whole thing from memory.

Cleary, most of these people had a totally different understanding of eschatology than I did. I must admit to some feelings of insecurity. Why was dispensationalism so pooh-poohed by academia? Was it a case of intellectual snobbery, or was there something behind it? I didn’t say much at the time, but observed with mixed caution and curiosity. I was intrigued. And some of it just seemed to make sense.

If not dispensationalism, then what? I think the first glimpse of a viable alternative appeared to me in reading N. T. Wright’s Surprised by Hope. Here was an intelligent scholar, committed to the Scriptures and to orthodox Christianity, and he presented a different sort of vision, one that was surprisingly resonant with me. He pointed out the things about evangelical eschatology that had been rubbing me the wrong way, burrs in my skin I didn’t even know how to identify. I began to think that perhaps there was a different way to view the end of the world and this age as we know it.

So, where does that leave me know? In some ways, I’ve put dispensationalism aside, but haven’t replaced it yet. There’s a vacuum in my theology. To be honest, I’m not sure what I believe about it. So that’s what this is all about.

I’m going to do some research. I’m going to revisit my own theological heritage while exploring others. I’m going to investigate views I currently find a bit ridiculous, hoping to see the value in them. I’m going to listen to some wise people from past and present, and hopefully form a cohesive way to think about the “last things.”

And just for the record, there are things I do believe, things I believe are essential to any orthodox theology.

I believe Jesus, the God-Man, will return again, literally, physically, bodily, to this earth at a time of the Father’s choosing.
I believe when he comes he will set things right, once and for all.
I believe he will judge the living and the dead.
I believe he will usher in the new creation, a new heavens and new earth where God will reign over all creation.
I believe in the bodily resurrection of all Christians, and that we will enjoy a fully physical and fully spiritual life with God in this new creation.

With those boundaries defining my journey, I am ready to set off toward the end of the world . . . and maybe, just maybe by December 21, 2012, I’ll have a better idea of where I’m going!

You’re welcome to join me, if you like. I’ll be posting thoughts on the journey here on redletterstheology. (I probably won’t be doing facebook updates of each post though, as this is rather a specialized interest.) Theology is best done in community, so I’d love it if anyone else wants to join in the conversation!

Next post: My plan of study


~lg

Single-Handed Theology - Where Are the Children?

Single-Handed Theology: one hand in motherhood, one hand in theology, each inspiring the other.

Tonight, while nursing Arden before bed, all the while humming old hymns and drinking hot lemon tea, I was considering the relationship between Christ and the church. In a sacred mystery I am not sure I understand, the apostle Paul identifies Christ as the husband and the church as the wife. That got me thinking – where are the children?

We’ve got all sorts of relationships pictured in the Bible, relationships that exist among God and between God and humanity. There’s God the Father, and His Son, with the Spirit as the bond of love between them. There’s Christ the bridegroom, winning a bride for Himself, the Church. The Spirit may also be seen as the chemistry, or divine electricity that draws and binds each to the other. (Of course the Spirit is also a person, not simply a force, with whom we have a relationship with as well, though He is always handing us off to Christ.)

Surely the greatest romance of all time would find fulfillment in the natural outcome of marriage, that is, offspring. We are God’s children, but the Church as she is now has borne no children.

But of course. The marriage has yet to happen. The Great Wedding is an eschatological event, and we are still the betrothed, not yet a wife, not yet a mother.

When I thought of this, a little tingle of excitement ran through me. Sometimes when we think about the end of this world, or life after death, or eternity in heaven, we struggle to imagine what on earth we’ll be doing. (And yes, there will be a new earth too, as well as a new heaven.) Getting to the Marriage Supper of the Lamb seems like a pretty ultimate arrival in and of itself. But just think, we will be marrying Jesus, the One in whom and through whom all things were created! With such a creative husband, I wouldn’t be surprised if our union brings about some kind of new life. I’m not thinking of more human children, or a race of demi-gods, but something alive nonetheless, something that will recreate the church anew as baby recreates a woman from the inside out.

Perhaps we will experience a glorious motherhood, perhaps there will be things that need our nourishment and our love, love which has been made perfect through the fires of tribulation and resurrection. Perhaps we will be the co-creators we were meant to be. Perhaps the Spirit will birth new life in us as a surprise wedding gift. Who knows?

There is a reason a veil hangs over our faces as we look past the future into eternity. But you know what they say. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes . . .


~lg