Tag: Creed

AND THE LIFE EVERLASTING.

“The fires of hell may be made of the very love of God, experienced as torture by those who hate him: the very light of God’s truth, hated and fled from in vain by those who love darkness.” (Peter Kreeft, Fundamentals of the Faith, chapter 27)

This final post, I am sorry to say, will concentrate on what is probably the least attractive (if not the most downright repellent) teaching in all of Christianity, namely, the doctrine of hell and the eternal punishment of the damned. 

Now many people (even some confessed Christians) don’t believe in hell. I don’t particularly want to believe in hell myself (although I don’t want those guilty of terrible evil to “get away with it” either – such is my dilemma). I certainly don’t want to believe that hell is eternal. [Note 1] However, whether I like it or not, the teaching is there in the New Testament, and so, as someone who professes to be a Bible-believing Christian, I can hardly ignore it. Having said this, however, it is worth considering the possibility that the commonly held picture of hell as some sort of everlasting torture chamber is perhaps influenced more by some of the imagery used during the Middle Ages, than reflecting the actual teaching of Christ. [Note 2]

Now, it may come as something of a shock to some that I have for some time now come to suspect that the worst thing about hell for the damned may, in fact, be the presence of God.

But surely, hell is separation from God?

I agree, although the term is not in fact used in Scripture [Note 3], but what does separation mean? Separation from God in hell cannot mean literal separation (as though there were a part of the universe in which God doesn’t exist) for God is omnipresent, so it must refer to separation from God in another sense, I would argue in a relational sense. It is, after all, tragically possible for people to live together, to share the same house, and yet be utterly estranged from one another.

But can this view be defended from Scripture?

Well, one of the clearest scriptural images of hell is that of fire, and fire is used throughout the Bible when referring to the presence of God, whether at God’s covenant with Abraham (Genesis 15:9-21), or in the burning bush (Exodus 3:1-6), or the pillar of fire which led the children of Israel through the wilderness by night (Exodus 13: 20-21), or the fire which descended on Sinai at the giving of the Law (Exodus 19:18), or the fire that consumed the sacrifice in the tabernacle (Leviticus 9:24), or in the Angel of the LORD’s appearance to Gideon (Judges 6:17-22), or at Elijah’s contest with the prophets of Baal (1 Kings 18: 36-39) or in Isaiah’s vision of God (Isaiah 6:1-8 – the word seraph comes from a Hebrew work for “burning”). If we turn to the New Testament, we can see this link of the image of fire and the presence of God in the promise that Christ will baptize us with fire (Matthew 3:11, Luke 3:16, see also Luke 12:49), or in the tongues of fire which appeared at Pentecost (Acts 2:3-4), or the testing of our works by fire at the day of Christ (1 Corinthians 3:13), or the coming of Christ with his angels in flaming fire (2 Thessalonians 1:7-9 which contains an explicit reference to the judgement of those who do not know or obey him), or in the warning that “our God is a consuming fire” (Hebrews 12:29), or the seven burning lamps before the throne of God (Revelation 4:5) and in many other places.

Strange as it may sound, this view of hell also fits with the other leading scriptural image of hell as exclusion, or rejection, of being turned away from the wedding (Matthew 22:11-13), or being banished to the outer darkness (Matthew 25:30) where the lost seek to hide from the face of God (see John 3:19-21) in that those who hate the presence of God would surely seek to flee from him, and would certainly not accept an invitation to come and enjoy being with him at the wedding supper of the Lamb, but instead remain outside, as the older brother did at the party held to celebrate the return of the prodigal (Luke 15:25-32). Perhaps, as C. S. Lewis maintained, the gates of hell are indeed “locked on the inside.”

What then of the other scriptural images, the worm (see Isaiah 66.24, Mark 9.48) and the weeping and gnashing of teeth (Matthew 8.12)?

John Blanchard in chapter 10 of Whatever Happened to Hell? sees the key to understanding the references to the worm in the fact that it is referred to as “their worm” as though “this part of the suffering was internal rather than external”  and concludes that it refers to the sinner’s own conscience or gnawing awareness of shame, something which seems to me to be perfectly compatible with the view of hell outlined above, particularly given the eternal presence of God who knows everything and brings to light that which we would rather hide away in the darkness (see 1 Corinthians 4.5 and perhaps also Luke 12.2-3).

And so to the weeping and gnashing of teeth. Is this meant to taken literally (as in the joke concerning those who have no teeth, that “teeth will be provided”) or is it a figure of speech? Again I agree with Blanchard who notes how the phrase is associated in Scripture with anger (see Job 16.9, Acts 7.54). This too is compatible with a view of hell as a negative encounter with God and, as with the worm, perhaps gives us a sense of the emotional response of those who have rejected God to the prospect of dwelling in his everlasting presence.

So, to conclude, if salvation can be understood as a relationship with God, perhaps damnation is also, in a sense, a relationship with God, albeit a negative one, being alive forever in the presence of the one whose love is unendurable to those who hate him, whose light casts into torment those who prefer to hide in darkness.

NOTES:

[1] This Christian Think Tank article addresses the common objection to the doctrine of hell (that eternal punishment is way too big a penalty even for serious temporal sin) far better than I could ever do.

[2] Of the many uses of the word Gehenna (the most unambiguous word for hell in the New Testament), only one (James 3.7) is not directly by Christ himself.

[3] As the Evangelical writer John Blanchard notes, “Preachers often warn people about the danger of ‘eternal separation’ from God and describe hell in this way, but the Bible never uses the term. It would be more biblical to warn people about the dangers for them of the eternal presence of God.” (John Blanchard, Whatever Happened to Hell? Chapter 10).

(See other posts in this series and buy Edward’s book)

THE RESURRECTION OF THE BODY

“All your life, an unattainable ecstasy has hovered just beyond the grasp of your consciousness. The day is coming when you will wake to find, beyond all hope, that you have attained it – or else that it was within your grasp and you have lost it forever.” (C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain)

Philip Yancey wrote of modern Christians in the West, that “we fear heaven as our ancestors feared hell” (Soul Survivor, page 211). Why is this?

Perhaps there is the fear of being accused of holding out “pie in the sky when you die” as a sop to the unfortunate and oppressed, either as a pious alternative to actually doing anything to relieve their suffering, or as a means of excusing, or even justifying the circumstances and systems of oppression which perpetuate it. There is the fear of being accused of “being too heavenly minded to be of any earthly good” of having our minds so engrossed in contemplation of celestial delight as to neglect the gritty realities of the injustice and misery all around us.

Furthermore, there is the curious fear which Randy Alcorn found when speaking to Christians about heaven, a fear of the perceived tedium of unending existence in some vague, ethereal state. Who wants to live forever sitting around on a cloud playing a harp? (see Randy Alcorn, Heaven, chapter 1)

Nevertheless, as we shall see with the doctrine of hell, the idea of heaven (though not necessarily the bit about clouds and harps) is quite clearly taught in Scripture, including by Jesus himself, and is integral to the Christian virtue of hope. It is surely appropriate then, as a believer in heaven, to explore, however briefly, what it is exactly that I believe in and hope for.

Firstly, heaven can be understood in terms of our relationship with God, more specifically as the culmination of our relationship with God, which begins on earth for those who come to know Christ, and which is to mature throughout our life until we see God face to face and know him even as we are known (1 Corinthians 13.12). According to Christ himself, “this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.” (John 17.3) This understanding of heaven as the joyful consummation of our relationship of love for God can help us to understand the idea of “reward” and how it is that there can be varying degrees of glory in heaven. As (in an old illustration) a series of different-sized containers can all be full to the brim and yet contain different amounts of water, so we can all be filled to the brim with the joy of being in the presence of the God whom we love and serve, and yet, in view of the differing degrees of service and maturity in our earthly lives, have differing capacities for God.

Secondly, the hope of heaven contains the promise of becoming new people, no longer bound by our sin and weakness and other limitations of the flesh, no longer bound even by death, but being transformed into the very likeness of Christ himself. Not only to be with Jesus but to be like him. Again, this isn’t only a promise for the distant future but the culmination of something which is (or ought to be) happening now, increasingly, as we, beholding Christ, are progressively transformed from one degree of glory to another (2 Corinthians 3.18). And, as we grow in our love for God and for others, it is only reasonable to expect that we would seek more and more to bring the peace and love and justice of heaven to earth. As C. S. Lewis put it –

“If you read history you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were just those who thought most of the next. … It is since Christians have largely ceased to think of the other world that they have become so ineffective in this.” (C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, Book 3, chapter 10)

Thirdly, as the Creed implies with its talk of the resurrection of the body, heaven is ultimately the promise of a restored universe, the new heavens and the new earth. In this sense, as the Belinda Carlisle song goes, “true heaven is a place on earth”. Randy Alcorn, in his book Heaven, defends this view against the assertions of what he calls “Christoplatonism” – the idea that heaven must be “spiritual” in the sense of being insubstantial or immaterial. No, the scriptural teaching on heaven (like it or not) is that it speaks of a real, restored creation, where real people, in real, though incorruptible, bodies, will live forever in joyful relationship with the infinite and loving God.

(See other posts in this series and buy Edward’s book)

THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS

“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner” (Eastern Orthodox prayer)

In Greek, the word used for sin is hamartia – missing the mark, falling short of God’s perfection. Sin can also be seen as disintegration, as a breach in our relationship with God, in our relationships with one another and even in our relationship with ourselves.

Christianity teaches that sin came into the world through the rebellion of our first human ancestor (Adam) and continues in our desire not to serve God but to live for ourselves. Obviously, differing opinions among Christians exist with regard to the historicity of this account (although a belief in evolution need not preclude a belief in a literal Adam) but Christians generally would argue that the story makes sense of our current predicament. As G. K. Chesterton said, original sin is “the only part of Christian theology which can really be proved” (Orthodoxy, chapter 2).

Modernity is not alone in doubting the truth of original sin. Pelagius, a 4th century British (or, possibly, Irish) presbyter, also opposed the teaching, arguing instead for the view, still popular, that we each come into the world with a blank slate, unaffected by the deeds of our ancestors.

In opposition to Pelagius, we find two main Christian viewpoints.

In the West, Augustine of Hippo (and those influenced by him) argued that all human beings were, in some sense “in Adam” when he sinned and, as such, bear the guilt and responsibility of his sin, regardless of what sins of our own we subsequently add.

By contrast, the Eastern Fathers denied that any later person bears the actual guilt or responsibility of the sin of our first human father, but, nevertheless, they still held that we live with the death and decay and corruption (including an indwelling tendency towards sin) which are the consequences of his rebellion against God, and that our own choices are limited by this environment of sin and death. [Note 1]

So what must we do to be saved?

Regardless of our view of original sin (and, for the record, having been an Augustinian for most of my Christian life, I am now somewhat closer to the Eastern view), we must each face the reality and responsibility of our own sinful choices before God. Even if I lived a perfect life from now on, I would still bear the responsibility of my past misdeeds, as C. S. Lewis pointed out – 

“We have a strange illusion that mere time cancels sin. I have heard others, and I have heard myself, recounting cruelties and falsehoods committed in boyhood as if they were no concern of the present speaker’s, and even with laughter. But mere time does nothing either to the fact or the guilt of a sin.” (The Problem of Pain, chapter 4).

But the good news of Christianity is that God has done for us in Christ what we could not do for ourselves. He became a human being and lived the life of obedience to God and selfless love which we were called to live but haven’t, he died on a cross as an offering for our sin, bearing our shame, he rose victorious from the dead, triumphing over death and decay and corruption, and he now intercedes for us before the Father as our great High Priest.

How then do we take hold of this new life for ourselves?

• through believing (or trusting) in Jesus Christ (John 3.16). Believing, in this sense, is more than simply intellectual assent, but rather “faith worked out in love” (Galatians 5.6); 
• through repentance (a radical change of mind and life orientation away from sin and towards God); and 
• through being baptized (i.e. buried with Christ, see Romans 6.4, Colossians 2.12) in obedience to Christ’s specific command to his apostles (Matthew 28.19, see also Acts 2.38), although this point remains somewhat controversial among Christians.

As can be seen from this list, the essence of the Christian message is that Christ saves those who turn to him and follow him.

Postscript: An unforgiveable sin?

Finally, some may be asking, how does all this relate to the blasphemy against the Holy Spirit, the so-called “unforgiveable sin?” [Note 2] What is this sin and how can I be sure that I haven’t committed it?

The context of this teaching as found in Mark 3.22-30 is that the Pharisees were seeking to resist believing in Christ by making the absurd accusation that his miracles were conducted in league with Beelzebul. The use of the imperfect tense in the Greek in verse 30 (elegon – “they were saying”) indicates that this wasn’t a one-off statement but something that they were saying habitually. The very absurdity of this claim, used to discredit Christ, points to the effort being made to resist the unwelcome conviction that Christ might really be who he said he was. Thus it would seem that the essence of the blasphemy against the Holy Spirit is a persistent and terminal hardening of the heart against Christ. This is also consistent with the warnings against apostasy found in Hebrews 6 (especially in the warning that it is impossible for those who commit this sin to be “restored to repentance”) and in the teaching of Romans 1.18-32 which warns how God can judge us by giving us over to the sins that we cling on to and prefer to him.

Therefore, in light of this, let us turn to Christ, while there is still time.

NOTES:

[1] It is worth noting that, to this day, Eastern (Orthodox) Christianity and Western (Catholic and Protestant) Christianity retain these separate perspectives on original sin. Furthermore, the East tends to see glorification (the aim of salvation) not as restoring humanity to the perfection of Eden, but as attaining deification (theosis), a participation in the energies (or communicable attributes) of God, a possible state as yet unrealised by our human ancestor at the time of the Fall.

[2] It is worth noting that this was earlier often referred to as the “unforgiven sin” rather than the “unforgivable sin” indicating that it was an unrepented sin rather than a sin too big for even God to forgive (as the Novatians falsely claimed).

(See other posts in this series and buy Edward’s book)

THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS

“No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.” (John Donne, Devotions upon Emergent Occasions, chapter 17) 

If salvation is, as I am on record as saying, a relationship with God, it is worth noting that it is a relationship which he has with us, as a community, not simply with me, as an individual.

The books of the New Testament were, as a rule, written to local churches. They would have been read to the gathered believers rather than by individuals on their own (since it would have been extremely rare for anyone to have owned a private copy of the Bible, even if they know how to read). Many precious scriptural promises which we may be tempted to apply individually (e.g. Philippians 1.6) turn out, on closer inspection, to be promises originally made to communities.

This corporate sense can be seen in the first petition of the Lord’s Prayer, as the Catholic philosopher Peter Kreeft notes –

“It is the mystery of solidarity, the mystery of the Mystical Body. Each individual who prays the prayer is to call God not only “my Father” but “our Father.” Each individual is to pray in the name of the whole Church … Therefore we are each responsible for all when we work and when we pray. This is not just a pious feeling but an awesome fact. When I pray, I have effects on my grandchildren, on some stranger I have never met, on the most abandoned soul in the world.” (Peter Kreeft, Fundamentals of the Faith, chapter 31)

An interesting corollary of this teaching is the idea that those who die in Christ, do not thereby cease to be members of the church. When believers pray or worship God, they can do so in the knowledge that their forerunners in the faith are praying and worshiping with them. This is the communion of saints, a great crowd of witnesses (Hebrews 12.1) who have run the race before us and who now cheer us on.

None of this means, however, that I am advocating collectivism or the sacrifice of the individual to the group. I have no sympathy for spiritual tyranny or enforced or abusive religion. I am well aware that such appeals to the corporate can be (and have been) abused to the enormous detriment of individuals, but there is error, I would argue, at both extremes of the spectrum. Perhaps, the Scriptural picture of the members and the body (1 Corinthians 12) is helpful here. The body cannot live without its members (and is harmed if any of its members is harmed) but the individual members are meant to form, and function, as a body.

(See other posts in this series and buy Edward’s book)

THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH

A common criticism levied against Evangelicals is that we tend to downplay (or even ignore) that rather large bit of Christian history which took place between the death of the apostle John and Martin Luther nailing the 95 theses to the door of the church in Wittenburg. Worse still, I have even got the impression, whether rightly or wrongly, that the church, far from prevailing against the gates of Hades as Christ promised (Matthew 16:18, see also John 16:13) must have lapsed into error fairly early on (perhaps even as early as the end of the first century) only to be restored again at the Reformation, a view held by groups such as the Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses. In more recent years, I have had additional reasons to look into the early history of the Church, as I have been involved in teaching church history to interns and have written a short book on the subject (Rooted: reconnecting with the history of the Church) 

So, I started reading from the primary texts of the early church, beginning with Augustine of Hippo, Irenaeus of Lyon and the Apostolic Fathers and then moving on to the dogmatic decrees and creeds of the early Ecumenical Councils and other early writings. However, this new found interest in patristics quickly started to raise awkward questions. If I was going to accept the doctrinal definitions of the early church about the person of Christ or the canon of the New Testament as representing the mind of the Spirit, why not also accept the consensus of the early Church on other issues as well? The early church (from what I had read) certainly seemed to have a high degree of unity on key doctrines compared with more recent denominational wranglings. I had already received the shock of reading Calvin’s “Institutes of the Christian Religion” (and discovering that his views on the church and the sacraments weren’t quite what I’d imagined) and if the Reformation-era church wasn’t what I thought it was, maybe the early church wasn’t either. 

Some of the specific doctrinal implications for me of accepting the authority of the early church can be briefly summarized, as follows –

(a) The Lord’s Supper

Ignatius, the bishop of Antioch, on his way to martyrdom in Rome at the start of the second century A.D., hearing of the Docetism threatening the church in Smyrna, wrote to them concerning the false teachers, as follows –

“Now note well those who hold heretical opinions about the grace of Jesus Christ that came to us; note how contrary they are to the mind of God. They have no concern for love, none for the widow, none for the orphan, none for the prisoner or the one released, none for the hungry or thirsty. They abstain from the Eucharist and prayer because they refuse to acknowledge that the Eucharist is the flesh of our saviour Jesus Christ, which suffered for our sins and which the Father by his goodness raised up.” (Ignatius of Antioch, “To the Smyrnaeans” 6.2)

One significant impact for me personally on accepting the objective presence of Christ in the Lord’s Supper has been to regain the “present tense” of the sacrament. I had always, ever since becoming a Christian at sixteen, believed in a “past tense” of remembering the death of Christ and a “future tense” of awaiting the marriage supper of the Lamb, but, even in doing so, I had somehow lost sight of the privilege of actually encountering Christ himself at his meal, sacramentally eating his flesh and drinking his blood as spiritual nourishment (compare John 6:53).

(b) Baptism 

Perhaps most difficult of all, given my “credobaptist” heritage, is accepting the consensus of the early church that baptism is the “bath of regeneration” (see Titus 3.5). Having said this, I have long held baptism to be, in some sense, a burial (Romans 6.4) and certainly much more than simply an outward washing (compare 1 Peter 3.21) or memorial. Indeed, one of the best arguments that I have heard in favour of believer’s baptism is the fact that that baptism is a burial, and it is not traditional to bury people until they have actually died!

(c) Worship

I came to faith in Christ within a tradition of Christianity in which spontaneity and freedom in worship were emphasized, rather than fixed liturgical forms. It came as something of a surprise to me, therefore, to discover that the evidence for liturgical worship in the early Church is actually rather strong, particularly with regard to the administration of the Lord’s Supper. The outlines of a Eucharistic liturgy can be found in the Didache (late 1st/early 2nd century) and this is confirmed by later works such as Justin Martyr’s First Apology (2nd century) and the Apostolic Constitutions of Hippolytus of Rome (early 2rd century). Within Scripture itself, there is reference to an altar (Hebrews 13.10), prayers (Acts 2.42, note the reference to “the prayers” – “tais proseuchais” rather than “prayer”) – including various “hours” of prayer (e.g. Acts 3:1, 10:3, 9) – and the use of incense in the heavenly worship (Revelation 5.8) which, perhaps unsurprisingly, suggests a certain degree of continuity in worship style between the church and the synagogue or temple. Indeed, in Acts 13.2, the Holy Spirit appears to interrupt the apostles during the liturgy (the Greek text of the verse begins with the word leitourgountōn – “as they were performing liturgy (i.e. public worship or service) which would indicate that order in worship and openness to the work of the Holy Spirit are not necessarily as mutually incompatible as I once thought.

(d) Church government / oversight

Here, at least, my study of the early church has not shaken my thinking too much. I have believed in the ministry of multiple local elders since I first started to think about the issue, and have since then grown to see the importance of deacons, as part of the biblical pattern (1 Timothy 3.12ff). The main challenge came from the early evidence of individual city churches each being overseen by a single bishop. This pattern is strongly advocated by Ignatius (who was probably a disciple of the Apostle John) and, perhaps, also by Clement of Rome in his reference to High Priests, Priests and Levites in relation to the church (1 Clement 40.5). While the New Testament seems to use the terms elder and overseer (or bishop) interchangeably (as does an early manual on running a church, the Didache), it does also refer to the position left vacant by Judas Iscariot as an episkopen or “bishopric” (Acts 1.20) and, on occasion, seem to indicate that some elders (e.g. James in Jerusalem, Titus in Crete) had a leading role overseeing several local congregations. Disciples of the eye-witness apostles seem to feature prominently among early bishops, carrying on the tradition of the apostles, especially in those early decades when the New Testament was still being written. Another point to note is that many churches run by multiple local elders have a “lead elder” and it could be that the move to having a single “bishop” over each city church during the early second century was more of a change of terminology than one of structure.

(See other posts in this series and buy Edward’s book)

I BELIEVE IN THE HOLY SPIRIT

I became a Christian in a church within the charismatic movement, which emphasises the continuing supernatural gifting of the Holy Spirit.

Who or what is the Holy Spirit?

Historically Christians have agreed that the Holy Spirit is God, namely, the third person of the Trinity, who proceeds eternally from the Father and who is sent to us by the Son (John 15.26).

This view of the Holy Spirit is contested by certain groups such as the Jehovah’s Witnesses who deny the divinity (and often the personality) of the Holy Spirit. One argument used in support of this view is that the words used for “Spirit” in Hebrew (ruach) and Greek (pneuma) can also mean “breath” or “wind” and thus indicate an impersonal force (albeit one used by God) rather than a person of the Godhead, as Christians have historically believed.

Since many of these groups cite Scripture in defence of their views, I too will seek to defend the historic Christian doctrine of the personality and divinity of the Spirit from Scripture.

The Holy Spirit is quite clearly portrayed by Scripture as a personal being. He can be lied to (Acts 5.3) and grieved (Ephesians 4.31). As J. I. Packer puts it, “Only of a personal being can such things be said.” (J. I. Packer, Concise Theology, p.144)

But, doesn’t the Greek text of Romans 8.16 refer to the Spirit as “it?”

Indeed it does, as the Greek word pneuma is grammatically neuter, however, there are places in the Gospel of John (14.16. 15.25, 16.18 and 16.13ff) where, contrary to normal grammatical rules, the masculine pronoun ekeinos is used to refer to the Spirit, thus indicating his personality.

The divinity of the Holy Spirit can also be seen in Scripture.

In the account of the sin of Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5.3-4), lying to the Spirit is equated with lying to God. Likewise, the temple of the Holy Spirit is equated with the temple of God in 1 Corinthians 3.19, 1 Corinthians 6.16, Ephesians 3.19 and Ephesians 5.8. Acts 28.25-26 quotes the Holy Spirit speaking through Isaiah the prophet, however, in Isaiah 6.8-10 (the passage quoted) the prophecy is said to come from the “voice of the LORD – i.e. YHWH) thus these verses in Acts 28 equate YHWH and the Holy Spirit.

Furthermore, the Holy Spirit is spoken of in Scripture as possessing divine attributes such as omniscience (1 Corinthians 2.10 ff), omnipresence (Psalm 139, 7-10), eternity (Hebrews 9.14) and the ability to foretell the future (Acts 1.16, Acts 20.22ff, Acts 21.22). The Holy Spirit creates (Job 26.13) calls (Matthew 9.38, Acts 13.2, Acts 20.28), inspires (2 Timothy 3.16, 2 Peter 1.20ff, Revelation 1,1) and gives eternal life (1 John 5.11).

In John 14.16 Jesus promises that the Father will send the disciples “another Helper” (Greek: allon paraklēton). The word paraklētos indicates a Counsellor, Advocate or Helper, the reference to the Spirit being “another” Helper testifies to Jesus being the first, and thus indicates that the main role of the Spirit is to continue the work of Christ in the world, particularly in leading the Church into truth (John 16.13), saving and transforming those who believe in Christ (John 3.5, Romans 8, 2 Corinthians 3.18) and also (as indeed you might expect me to say) giving supernatural gifts to the church to equip her for service (1 Corinthians 12, 14).

(See other posts in this series and buy Edward’s book)

AND HE WILL COME TO JUDGE THE LIVING AND THE DEAD

There are a number of passages in the Bible which are commonly believed to prophecy the end of the world, including the Olivet Discourse (found in Matthew 24, Mark 13 and Luke 21) and the book of Revelation. However, I am not too sure that this is, necessarily, the case. I hold to a theological position on eschatology (the doctrine of the “end-times”) called Preterism. According to this view, the passages referred to above are not talking about the end of the world at all but had a fulfilment in the first century A.D. at the end of the age (synteleias tou aiōnos – Matthew 24:3) that is, the age of the temple (and the sacrificial system) in 70 A.D. To a Preterist, Jesus’ words in Matthew 24:34 and the time references in Revelation (“the things that must soon take place” Revelation 1:1) are to be taken literally.

In support of the Preterist view of the Olivet Discourse is the instruction by Jesus that his disciples, when they saw the signs predicted come to pass, should “flee to the mountains” (Matthew 24:15, Luke 21:21) which seems curious advice to give in a warning about the end of the world but makes perfect sense if the destruction of Jerusalem is in view. This viewpoint also enables the texts to be seen as intelligible to those for whom they were first written. Those who hold the Preterist viewpoint generally also hold to an early date for the book of Revelation (usually in the 60s A.D.) largely on the basis of references to the temple (Revelation 11:2), which, in other New Testament books would probably also ensure a pre-70 A.D. dating (it is only Dispensationalist theology which requires a rebuilt temple).

But what about the stars falling from the sky? (e. g. Matthew 24:29) Surely that proves that it is the end of the cosmos that is being referred to here? Not necessarily. Heavenly bodies in Scripture are mentioned with reference to authorities (see Genesis 1:16 with its emphasis on “rule” and Genesis 37:9-10 – note the interpretation of the dream), earthly battles are celebrated in poetry using references to heavenly disturbances (e.g. Judges 5:19-20) and prophecies of the destruction of ancient empires and kingdoms are described in apocalyptic terms similar to those in the Olivet discourse (e.g. Isaiah 13:9-10, referring to Babylon, Ezekiel 32:7-8, referring to Egypt and Amos 8:9, referring to Israel).

This doesn’t, of course mean that I don’t believe in the end-times at all. I am not a Pantelist (or “Full-Preterist” as they like to call themselves) who argue that ALL Scriptural prophecy was fulfilled in the first century. I believe, in the words of the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed, that Christ “will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end.” Certainly, the tears have not yet been wiped away from our eyes, there is still death and sorrow and crying and pain, for the former things have not yet passed away (see Revelation 21:4).

Of course, whatever I, or anyone else, may think about issues of timing, the reality of the return of Christ is the more pressing matter. If I truly do believe that Jesus is coming back (and I sometimes wonder if I do) and that he will hold me accountable for every willfully evil thought, every unkind word, every wrong act, every refusal or failure to do what is right, and that, on the basis of this infallible judgement, my eternity will be determined, forever and ever, without hope or fear of appeal, then I have cause to be uneasy. As C. S. Lewis put it (in what, for me, remains the most terrifying thing he ever wrote) the final judgement “will not be the time for choosing: it will be the time when we discover which side we really have chosen, whether we realised it before or not.” (C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, book 2, chapter 5)

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HE ASCENDED INTO HEAVEN. HE IS SEATED AT THE RIGHT HAND OF GOD THE FATHER

“In Christ, deity and humanity, uncreated God and created man … are everlastingly joined. There is a man in heaven who is also God: eternally beloved, infinitely valued. He now gives massive significance to us as human beings and to every part of our humanness.” (Peter Lewis, The Glory of Christ, chapter 27)

According to Peter Lewis, as expressed in the quotation above, even though the universe is vast and seemingly void, we human beings, “puny earthlings” do, after all, have significance and value. The Christian message includes the idea that there is a point to it all, that God is interested enough in us not only to become a human being himself, but even to remain a human being forever. As I alluded to earlier, this implies also that the good news of Jesus Christ is not only about spiritual matters, (“saving souls”) but also the gritty reality of physical human need and suffering.

Scripture teaches that Christ is seated as our High Priest, having offered himself as a sacrifice for our sins and, as such, mediating and interceding for those who turn to him and put their trust in him, as indeed he did in Gethsemane (see John 17.20-26). He calls us to serve God and others in love, as those who have significance and meaning. Though we often struggle and fall, he is sympathetic to our human weakness, and invites us to come boldly before his throne of grace in prayer to obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need (see Hebrews 4.14-16).

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ON THE THIRD DAY, HE ROSE FROM THE DEAD

“If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all men most to be pitied.” (1 Corinthians 15:19, RSV)

It is curious to note that this is one of the last posts that I actually wrote when I first mooted the idea of a series based on the Apostles’ Creed. Indeed, for a brief while, the only thing that I had written down on the subject was this one line – “Surely, I must have something of value to say on what is the key doctrine of the entire Christian faith!” – For indeed, as Paul wrote in his first letter to the Corinthian church [Note 1], without the resurrection, all of our preaching and faith is pointless and futile. Does this reticence betray a lack of faith on my part, or, perhaps more likely, a fear of what it could mean for me if Jesus of Nazareth is really still out there, ready to challenge or overturn my comfort and complacency.

Philip Yancey observes, that “people who discount the resurrection of Jesus tend to portray the disciples in one of two ways; either as gullible rubes with a weakness for ghost stories, or as shrewd conspirators who conceived the resurrection plot as a way to jump-start their new religion.” (The Jesus I Never Knew, pp. 210-211). He argues that the gospel accounts themselves portray the disciples as sceptics when it came to the story of the resurrection, as cowards, hiding away in an upper room) and as so incompetent (if conspiracy really were their aim) as to have women (whose testimony didn’t count in court) as the primary witnesses of the whole event. Let us not also forget that the resurrection was a claim for which almost all of them gave their lives, generally in unpleasant ways.

T. Wright, former Bishop of Durham, further notes (in great detail) in “The Resurrection of the Son of God” that a physical resurrection prior to the final judgement was something in which no-one, neither Jews nor pagans, believed at the time and which thus fulfilled nobody’s expectations. That the resurrection doesn’t fulfill modern people’s expectations either, should perhaps therefore come as no surprise.

So then, what does this mean for us? If Christ is not risen from the dead, then what reason do we have to expect any resurrection? None at all, as far as I can see. Our faith is indeed futile. There is no hope in the end. But if Christ is indeed risen from the dead, then he is alive, ready to call us to follow him both into death [Note 2] and also into new life, to share in his death and resurrection through baptism and repentance, in order that we may, when we see him at last, have no reason to be ashamed or afraid.

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NOTES

[1] It is worth noting that 1 Corinthians 15 is one of the earliest written accounts of the resurrection of Jesus, written well within the lifetime of witnesses to the event.

[2] As Dietrich Bonhoeffer put it, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.” (The Cost of Discipleship)

WAS CRUCIFIED UNDER PONTIUS PILATE, DIED AND WAS BURIED

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Christianity is a historical religion. The tenure of office of Pontius Pilate, the Procurator of Judaea sets the timeframe during which Christians believe that the incarnate Word of God was crucified. The message of Christianity thus opens itself up to historical validation or refutation.

Now, given that I clearly believe in the historicity of Jesus’ crucifixion (I have written elsewhere in defence of the historicity of the life of Christ), it may be of more value here for me to write a few words relevant to the ongoing dispute among Christians (especially Evangelicals) as to how the crucifixion of Christ actually saves anyone.

Some years ago, as a member of a church team involved in working with internationals within the church, I attended a series of talks in London on cross-cultural mission, which divided human cultures into three broad groups, as follows –

• Innocence-guilt cultures – in which the focus is on avoiding individual guilt;
• Honour-shame cultures – which tend to be more corporate in that the focus is on what others think of you. The Bible was written in the context of an honour-shame culture, and
• Security-anxiety cultures – in which the focus is on the power of evil, especially in the context of evil spiritual beings or forces.

Now, while interacting with an on-line debate about various theories of the atonement – how it is that the death of Christ saves us from our sins – I was reminded of a conversation which I’d had with a friend who was at the conference. My friend had argued that if Christ died for all people, from all different nations and cultural perspectives then surely his death must not only be a ransom payment for our individual guilt (as Western individualists have tended to emphasize [Note 1]) but also a vicarious bearing of our shame and a triumph over the power of evil. I believe that we all need pardon and healing from our sin and shame and bondage to evil, but the existence of differing cultural perspectives on which of these form our greatest need, could help to explain why the different theories of the atonement came into being, and perhaps even help reconcile them.

One thing from which we all need deliverance, regardless of our cultural viewpoint, is death. I certainly recall the moment in the staff tea room at work (I was about 30 years old) when it really dawned on me that I was going to die. I had long known it as an intellectual fact and had even, in a sense, “faced death” as a 1 year old child, while being wheeled into an operating theatre with a ruptured appendix, but, at that moment, it all became terribly real to me. Perhaps it is true, as Freud put it, that, “At bottom no one believes in his own death.” (Sigmund Freud, Reflections on War and Death, 1918)

That the atonement of Christ represents deliverance from death is a view held by the consensus of Christianity from the earliest times. As Athanasius of Alexandria so eloquently puts it –

“The Word perceived that corruption could not be got rid of otherwise than through death: yet He Himself, as the Word, being immortal and the Father’s Son, was such as could not die. For this reason, therefore, He assumed a body capable of death, in order that it, through belonging to the Word Who is above all, might become in dying a sufficient exchange for all, and, itself remaining incorruptible through His indwelling, might thereafter put an end to corruption for all others as well, by the grace of the resurrection. It was by surrendering to death the body which He had taken, as an offering and sacrifice free from every stain, that He forthwith abolished death for His human brethren by the offering of the equivalent. … He has come into our country and dwelt in one body amid the many, and in consequence the designs of the enemy against mankind have been foiled and the corruption of death, which formerly held them in its power, has simply ceased to be.” (Athanasius of Alexandria, “On the Incarnation” Chapter 2, section 9)

Because of the sacrificial death of Christ, all of us have the promise of resurrection to eternal life, although whether or not we will all enjoy that resurrection is a matter for a later post.

NOTE:

[1] Having spoken of the West as an innocence-guilt culture, it should be noted, that in the internet age, shame has made a comeback in the West with a vengeance – not, of course, that it ever completely went away.

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