John Mark Hicks

“There is the earnest preaching of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come; the development of the guilt of man, the grace of God, the love of Christ, the mystery of the Cross, sin pardoning mercy, adoption into the family of God, with the unction of the hope of the resurrection to everlasting life, of the new earth and the new heavens, &c., &c. These are the soul-stirring, the soul-subduing, the soul-transforming themes of the gospel of the grace of God.”[1]

Alexander Campbell (1865)

Eschatology, epitomized in the idea of “new creation,” is not so much about what happens last and the order in which it happens as much as it is about the future that is already present and at work in the world.

Creation is good, but new creation is better. The creation, though it retains its inherent goodness, is presently frustrated because it is bound over to corruption. It awaits something better; it awaits a glorious liberation. The present bondage will pass away even as the creation itself is gloriously transfigured when the new heavens and new earth appear.

As the present form of the world is even now passing away, the new creation is already present. The children of God experience the first fruits of the new creation through the presence of the Spirit who transforms them from glory to glory. By this the children of God are new creatures renewed in the image of their Creator. Yet the children of God, along with the creation itself, groan for full adoption through the redemption of their bodies. This new humanity, already present by the Spirit through sanctification, will fully appear in the resurrection.

New humanity is grounded in the new human, Jesus the Messiah. The glorified Lord is new creation. He reversed the curse under which creation groans as the kingdom broke into the world through his ministry in the power of the Spirit. He transformed death as the firstborn from the dead by the will of the Father. His Adamic body was transformed into a new body animated by the Spirit of God through which the ascended Messiah reigns in the heavenlies. At the right hand of the Father, ever interceding for the people of God, he has poured out the Spirit upon the church in order to transform them into new community, a new creation. Jesus, as glorified human, will return to redeem humanity and inaugurate the new heavens and new earth so that the glory of the God may fill the creation.

This new humanity embodied in Jesus is the ground of new creation. That new life is our life. Jesus’ new creation kingdom ministry is our ministry. The second Adam’s life-giving body is our future body. Just as the old Adamic life passed away in the ministry, death and resurrection of Jesus, so our lives—inwardly renewed and outwardly redeemed—participate in the new life revealed in the new humanity of the ascended Lord. Just as our old Adamic life is transformed into a new and glorious freedom, so the creation itself will share in the joy of the children of God.

This story—the movement from the old age to the new age—is pregnant with meaning for church, ministry, and life. As new creatures, we live by the ethic of the new creation. As people translated into the kingdom of God, we live as if the kingdom of God has already come. Anticipating the renewal of creation, we pursue environmental care. We embrace the vision, ethic, and mission of the new creation embodied in the incarnation, ministry, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus the Messiah.

This year Harding School of Theology will explore the significant themes, implications, and applications of “new creation” through chapel and special events throughout this academic year. The richness, depth, and visionary importance of this theme define Christianity.

This piece was authored for HST’s Bridge (Summer 2013).

On the heels of John’s prophetic commission in Revelation 10:8-11, he is tasked with measuring the temple of God but not its outer court. The prophetic message of Revelation 11 envisions a period of time when God’s people will faithfully witness before the nations. Indeed, the “two witnesses” will imitate the pattern of the Lamb–they will prophesy, they will be martyred, and they will be vindicated through resurrection and ascension. The faithful witness of the church follows the pattern of the Lamb and God does not abandon the witnesses.

Just as the interlude between the sixth and seventh seals focused on sealed but suffering believers (Revelation 7), so this interlude between the sixth and seventh trumpets reveals a measured but suffering church. The interludes address the situation of the church in the midst of a hostile but collapsing empire. The hope of believers is victory and their role is faithful witness.

There are some difficult problems of interpretation in Revelation 11. What is the temple? What is the outer court? Who are the “two witnesses”? What is the “great city” that, in part, collapses? One’s general approach to Revelation will, in large measure, determine the answers to these questions. There is little need to argue this in detail in a brief blog, but it is important to understand the flow of the drama pictured it.

The first moment in the drama is the measurement of the temple. This imagery is drawn from Ezekiel 40:3 and Zechariah 2:1-5. God declares ownership; the temple belongs to the one who sits on the throne. The owner measures the temple. But where is this temple? The only other use of “temple” is in Revelation 11:19 which places the temple “in heaven.” Temple imagery in Revelation is always located “in heaven,” that is, in God’s throne room. Much like Revelation 7:9-17, God’s temple and its worshippers are protected and victorious. Nothing will assault the throne room of God. The temple, then, is–analogous to the 144,000 in Revelation 7–are the sealed people of God whose suffering will overcome the enemy.

However, the “outer court” is unmeasured. Rather, it will be given over to the nations who will trample not only it but the whole “holy city for 42 months.”  The adjective “holy” indicates that we are still talking about the people of God. In one perspective, they are protected and victorious (in the throne room of God), but from another perspective they are under attack.  Indeed, the beast from the Abyss kills the two witnesses (11:7). The imagery is drawn from Daniel 7:21-25. In the second century B.C. Antiochus Epiphanes waged war against the saints and trampled the temple in Jerusalem for a “time, times, and a half” (or 3 and 1/2 years; cf. Daniel 12:5-6). In Revelation 11 the beast makes war against the outer court and the holy city, including the two witnesses. This war will last only for a limited time (1260 days is half of seven years, which is a complete number). The beast wages war against the church and is able to inflict suffering (martyrdom) upon it. The beast (the nations) trample the people of God (the outer court) but the beast cannot destroy the temple (the inner court or sanctuary).

The “two witnesses” are clearly prophetic figures (called “prophets” in 11:10). Their description draws heavily on prophetic images in the Hebrew Bible.  Like Elijah (and John the Baptist) they wear sackcloth. Like Moses they turn water into blood and strike the earth with plagues. Like Elijah they stop the rain. Like Jeremiah they breathe fire (Jeremiah 5:14). Like Zerubbabel and Joshua the High Priest they are God’s anointed olive trees to serve the whole earth (Zechariah 4). They are lampstands. They are the church. The number two is chosen because the Torah required two witnesses for convicting testimony (Deuteronomy 19:15). The church has a prophetic role in the world.

Their testimony, however, comes at a cost. The two witnesses are killed by the beast and their bodies are left exposed in the “great city.” Every use of the “great city” in Revelation refers to the hostile empire that oppresses the followers of the Lamb (16:19; 17:18; 18:10, 16, 18, 19, 21). This “great city” is not the “holy city.”  The “holy city” is the church which is trampled by the nations while the “great city” is the hostile empire–empires like Sodom, Egypt and Rome. The reference to “where also their Lord was crucified” does not mean the literal city in which Jesus died but rather the “great city” that killed Jesus, that is, Rome. The two witnesses will suffer the same fate as their Lord; they will die at the hands of a cruel empire, Rome. Just as Rome crucified the Lamb in Jerusalem, so Rome will display the death of Christian martyrs as spectacles of its power within the empire (the “great city”).

“The inhabitants of the earth,” that is, the followers of the beast, who come from every “people, tribe, language, and nation” (like victorious believers in Revelation 7 who also come from every people, tribe, language, and nation) rejoice over the death of the two witnesses. They glory in the death of the martyrs. It is part of their festive activities as they give gifts to each other. One might hear an allusion to the games in which Christians were martyred during the Roman empire.

One also might hear in Revelation 11 the echo of the cry of the martyrs.  “How long, O Lord” (Revelation 6:9-11). Some believe that Psalm 79 provides a backdrop for the theology of this chapter. The Psalmist laments the destruction of the temple and asks “How Long, O Lord?” They plead for God to pour out wrath upon the nations and to “pay back” their “neighbors seven times.”

Indeed, in Revelation 11 one tenth of the city collapses and seven thousand are killed. 7,000 is a symbolic number (perhaps an allusion to the 7,000 that had not bowed the knee to Baal during Elijah’s prophetic ministry). The city suffers a major disaster but it is not complete. God judged the “great city” (Rome) for its injustice and it appears many turned to God as a result (“feared and gave glory to the God of heaven”). The witness of the faithful martyrs in the context of God’s transformative work of judgment has a positive effect on some.

But the church itself–the two witnesses who ae martyred–is vindicated. The dead witnesses are raised and they ascend into heaven in a cloud.  The witnesses follow the pattern of the Lamb–witness, death, resurrection and ascension. In other words, like the 144,000, as they pass through the trials and overcome through faith, they are received into the throne room of God as victors (cf. Revelation 7:9-17). The witnesses defeat the empire through martyrdom. The witnesses join the assembly around the throne in God’s heavenly temple. This is their “resurrection.” This is not a picture of their literal bodily resurrection, but–like Revelation 7–the movement of the witnesses from earth to heaven, from suffering to victory in the throne room of God (that is, the heavenly temple).

The church is God’s prophetic witness against empires. This is part of its role in the present chaotic world. The witness is not about predicting specific facts or imperial history about the future, but it is a witness that proclaims that the kingdoms of this world will become the kingdom of God. It is a witness that opposes violence, idolatry, and immorality. It is a witness that God will judge the empires because of their greed, violence, and oppressive power.

But empires kill peacemakers. Rome crucified Jesus and martyred his followers. Empires still kill peacemakers. Empires still oppose the church’s witness. Unfortunately, the church often silences its own witness in the wake of imperial holidays, pledges of allegiance, and imperial benefaction (giving credit to the empire for peace and safety rather than to God).

Followers of the Lamb oppose empires and bear witness against its imperial designs. Like the Lamb, they may suffer and die for that witness, but like the Lamb, God will vindicate them and receive faithful witnesses into the throne room as victors in the conflict between good and evil.

Israel read this Psalm against the backdrop of David’s flight from Absalom whose coup d’etat had removed David as King.  The fears and uncertainty aroused by that event provide an emotional context for reading this Psalm. While others may fear for the Psalmist, the Psalmist has no fear. Rather, the Psalmist trusts.

The three-fold use of “many” in verses 1-2 stress the enormous obstacles that this believer faces. Many foes have risen against the Psalmist and many are voicing their doubt about whether God’s faithfulness. The central taunt is that God will not rescue this believer.  Many say that the believer should expect no victory, no salvation, no deliverance. All is lost as far as they are concerned. They believe that God has abandoned the Psalmist.

This fear is common for believers. We often find reason to doubt God’s good intentions for us. We often feel abandoned. Fear often thrives rather than faith, and we sometimes lose our assurance that God is good. This may be particularly true when we hear what “many” are saying. We listen to other voices rather than trust God’s good intentions.

The Psalmist, however, turns to Yahweh in prayer. Three times the Psalmist addresses Yahweh, the covenant God of Israel (3:1, 3, 7).

• Yahweh, you know how many are against me!
• Yahweh, I will trust your care for me.
• Yahweh, rise up and deliver me!

Just as the “many” see no hope for the Psalmist, Yahweh heard this believer’s cry and answered from Zion, God’s holy hill. This response and the assurance of God’s care enables the Psalmist to sleep as Yahweh provides sustenance.  Believers can rest when they are confident that God loves them. This eradicates whatever fear the Psalmist feels about the “thousands” (the “many”) and what they are saying or doing.

Surrounded by hostile powers and living in a hostile environment, believers may very well doubt God’s presence and care. We are sometimes overwhelmed with “thousands” of problems and circumstances that hinder us from living in trust without anxiety. We know this situation well. We have a daily struggle with worry or fear.

The Psalmist trusts Yahweh who is both a shield and the glory of believers. Yahweh protects like a shield; Yahweh defends believers. Moreover, Yahweh is the glory of believers. Rather than shamed by opposition or defeated by fears, we know that God lifts our heads. God raises us in glory and removes all shame as our heads are lifted up. Rather than defeated and shamed by the enemy, God glorifies and honors us.

What does it mean for God to lift up our heads? Life bows our heads sometimes in fear, sometimes in shame. Sometimes we don’t want to face life because we are filled with fear. For God to lift our heads is to enable us to look life in the eye without shame or fear because God’s glory shines in our faces. God honors us. Yahweh lifts our heads so that we might experience God’s gracious presence and loving protection.  Knowing God’s care for us–Yahweh is our shield, we trust that God will hear our cry and answer our prayer. Consequently, we rest peacefully at night and awake in the morning with renewed strength.

The Psalmist’s first prayer was that Yahweh would recognize how hostile and troubled the situation had become. The second prayer affirmed Yahweh’s presence and good intentions for the Psalmist.  The third prayer, however, calls God to act against those hostile to God’s purposes.

The imprecation in 3:7 is quite vivid. The Psalmist prays that God would break the teeth of the wicked. This is covenantal language as “breaking teeth” is the punishment given to those who break covenants (agreements or contracts). It is a prayer for justice against covenant-breakers.

What the “many” supposed is reversed. Yahweh will save (deliver) the Psalmist through setting things right and God will act justly against the wicked who opposed the Psalmist.

“Salvation belongs to Yahweh”–the Psalmist appeals to the God of Israel and seeks God’s blessing on upon God’s people. The ending is not dissonant with the Psalm itself since the “salvation” which belongs to God’s people is the very thing that “many” said was denied to the Psalmist but for which the Psalmist prayed.  God responds out of covenant faithfulness to deliver the covenant people. The Psalmist trusts Yahweh who is Israel’s covenant God, and God keeps covenant promises.

Salvation belongs to Yahweh!

When the seventh angel sounded the seventh trumpet, “voices” (note the plural) announced:

The kingdom of the world has become
the kingdom of our Lord and of his Messiah,
and he will reign for ever and ever.

This, I believe, is the fundamental agenda of the Apocalypse, that is, to announce the coming of the kingdom of God which consumes the kingdoms of this world. The kingdom of God is breaking into the world and ultimately destroys the principalities and powers (to use Paul’s language) that presently de facto rule the cosmos. God will not let that stand since it de jure belongs to God’s reign.

The Structure of the Apocalypse

Revelation 4-16 is the second of four visions.  A superficial reading of the Apocalypse will notice how often John uses the language of “then I saw” or “I looked,” etc. John is a seer–he sees what God will do; he sees the present and coming reign of God.

The four visions in Revelation are highlighted by the four-fold use of “in the Spirit.” This is the language of Ezekiel 37:1 when Ezekiel was carried to the valley of bones. This phrase appears in the following places in Revelation:

• Revelation 1:10 — John sees the risen Christ on the isle of Patmos.
• Revelation 4:2 — John watches events unfold from the heavenly throne room
• Revelation 17:3 — John watches events unfold from an earthly wilderness
• Revelation 21:10 — John inspects the New Jerusalem from a high mountain on the New Earth.

This visionary notation structures the Apocalypse into four visions (a fuller schematic outline is available here):

1. Vision One – The Kingdom Begun: Jesus Has Overcome (Revelation 1:9-3:22)
2. Vision Two — The Kingdom Comes: The Heavenly Perspective (Revelation 4-16)
3. Vision Three — The Kingdom Comes: The Earthly Perspective (Revelation 17-21:8)
4. Vision Four — The Kingdom Fully Realized in the New Jerusalem (Revelation 21:9-22:7)

The Structure and Progress of the Second Vision

The Apocalypse’s second vision (Revelation 4-16) has a well-defined literary structure. The structure shapes the plot and progression of the drama’s movement.  Below is a way of picturing this structural development:

The Heavenly Throne Room: The Sealed Scroll is Seized (4-5)

The Seven Seals are Opened (6:1-8:1)

The Seven Trumpets Herald the Opening of the Scroll (8:1-11:19)

Pause: Seven Participants in the Drama are Identified (12-14)

The Seven Bowls are Poured Out (15-16)

John watches this drama from the setting of the heavenly throne room. He is taken up into the heavenlies in order to observe how God will defeat the kingdom of the beasts (the world powers) and at the same time redeem the followers of the Lamb. John has a “God’s eye view” of the events–he sees them from above rather than from below (he sees the third vision in Revelation 17:1-21:8 from below; he is taken to the wilderness to experience the brokenness of the world).

The sevens, a number that symbolizes wholeness or completeness, link the drama together. This begins in the throne room where the “seven spirits of God” (Revelation 4:5; a reference to the Holy Spirit, I think, given the parallel with Revelation 1:4) are present before the throne of God. Then there are seven seals, seven trumpets, seven thunders (which are silenced), seven actors in the drama and seven bowls. The number unites the vision.

Further, the drama is progressive. The judgments associated with the opening of the seals affect only one-fourth of the earth (Revelation 6:8), but the judgments associated with the heralding of the trumpets affects one-third of the earth (Revelation 8:12). The seven bowls, however, envelop the whole earth (Revelation 16:14). The transitions between the scenes are headed/ended by the language of “thunders, voices, lightnings, and an earthquake” (Revelation 4:5; 8:5; 11:19; 16:18). This is the language of divine presence and action; it is the language of Sinai (Exodus 19:16-19). The covenant God reigns and acts. The God of Sinai is still active in the world.

Some, at least in my experience, tend to think that the God of the Old Testament was more involved in the history of the world than is the God of the New Testament. In the Hebrew Scriptures, for example, God raises up kings and brings them down. Yahweh moves nations, orchestrates their boundaries and times, and is actively purusing a divine agenda in their relationships (even when those relations are hostile). The God of the Greek Scriptures, it is said, is no longer involved in that way. Indeed, perhaps God is not involved at all except for encouraging the spread of the gospel.

The Apocalypse undermines any such Marcionite dichotomy. History–perhaps symbolized by the scroll–is in the hand of God and the one who sits on the throne is calling the shots in the unfolding drama of the Apocalypse. Like Yahweh, the God of Jesus Christ uses nations, kings, and powers for a divine agenda. They serve God; God does not serve them.

The throne in heaven initiates the drama within human history that will culminate in the kingdom of God. The Lamb opens the seals, seven angels who stand before God sound the trumpets, and the seven plagues (bowls) come from the heavenly temple itself. The beasts of the Apocalypse are given power–empowered but also limited by the one who sits on the throne–and then defanged.

God is an active agent and power within human history. Yahweh still sits on the throne and rules the cosmos. That reign, within the drama of the second vision, is increasingly and progressively manifested until Babylon (the kingdom of the beasts) falls and the Lamb is enthroned on Mount Zion (e.g., the New Jerusalem).

The Lamb is God’s agent in the world. The Lion is a slain Lamb who has overcome or triumphed over evil. The followers of the Lamb overcome as well. Followers of the Lamb overcome through faithful witness (including martyrdom) rather than through violent revolution. The Kingdom of God shows up through a suffering lamb and slaughtered followers.

God will avenge the blood of the saints, but the saints follow the Lamb as faithful witnesses in a hostile world.  God protects those who have the Father’s name stamped on their forehead and God will defeat the kingdom of the beast. God will fully realize his kingdom just as we pray, “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is heaven.” The followers of the Lamb overcome through endurance, faithfulness, and prophetic witness.

This does not mean that followers of the Lamb are passive in their relation to the kingdom of the beasts. They actively pursue the agenda of the heavenly kingdom in terms of righteousness, peace, and joy, but they are not violent revolutionaries. They follow the Lamb that was slain and leave the rest to God.

We are followers of the Lamb. We follow him wherever he goes (Revelation 14:4). We follow him to martyrdom, to self-sacrifice. Indeed, we are the sacrifical firstfruits that God has purchased and offered (Revelation14:4).  We follow the Lamb to the slaughter, but also into a new life. We follow the Lamb into the grave but into a new creation. We follow the Lamb to the cross and into the joy of the New Jerusalem.

We are lambs–just as Jesus was as he walked upon the earth suffering for our sakes. We follow the path of sacrifical suffering, redemptive suffering. But God has not forgotten. God will redeem and avenge his lambs. Though lambs are still led to the slaughter, the kingdom of God is coming and will come. God will remember his covenant.

The Second Vision as the Heart of the Apocalypse

The second vision is the bulk of the book and, in many ways, its heart.  This section literally unveils (reveals) the work of God in the world. Sitting on the isle of Patmos and living in the urban centers of Asia Minor, the imperial power of Rome appears dominant and controlling. Who can oppose it? And where is God when the saints are martyred and the church has been placed under a hostile siege? While the first vision encourages the faithful and confronts the problems in the seven churches, the second vision pulls back the curtain to peer into the heavenly throne room. Taken up into that throne room, John sees what is really real, what the true state of affairs is.

The second vision announces that God is on his throne and Ceaser has not deposed him. It announces that the Lamb has made the redeemed a kingdom of priests. It dramatizes the opening of the scroll that contains the destiny of the cosmos itself–the scroll is taken by the Lamb from the hand of the one who sits on the throne, its seven seals are opened, seven trumpets hearld its opening, and the seven bowls of wrath are poured out upon the kingdoms of the world (partial content of the scroll).

The second vision encourages readers to believe what they cannot see. God is enthroned even though the world looks chaotic and hostile. The kingdom of God will fill the earth even though the kingdoms of the world look impregnable. The Lamb is also a Lion–a king–who will defeat the enemies of God and secure the realm for God. The Lamb and his followers will sing a new song, a song of redemption, as they celebrate the victory of God in the world.

The second vision is not simply about Rome but it is the fight (war, struggle) that has been played out within the fallen world ever since the kingdom of darkness first entered God’s good creation. It is the struggle of the children of Seth against the children of Cain in Genesis. It is the struggle of Israel against the nations, the struggle of Yahweh against the gods of the nations. It is the struggle of Jesus against the demons, and it is the struggle in which believers are engaged against principalities and powers (and not simply against flesh and blood). It is a struggle that continues today in multiple forms.

The conflict between the kingdom of God and the kingdoms of this world is embedded in the biblical story from beginning to end. The Apocalypse, through the eyes of John, unveils the progression and conclusion of that struggle. The significance of the Apocalypse for contemporary believers is not the specific prediction of specific historical events but the assurance that the struggle is not in vain. God’s kingdom is coming, is even now present, and will ultimately triumph over the kingdoms of this world.

Yesterday I received my copy of J. Caleb Clanton’s new book entitled The Philosophy of Religion of Alexander Campbell (Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 2013). I had previously read the manuscript in early 2012 and am pleased to see it in print.

Caleb taught philosophy at Pepperdine for several years but now teaches at Lipscomb.  I am grateful that Lipscomb has secured his services as a philosopher, and a philosopher who is interested in mining the resources of the Stone-Campbell tradition.

I deeply appreciate his engagement with the resources of the Stone-Campbell Movement, particularly Alexander Campbell, in the discipline of Philosophy of Religion. Of all the early Reformers, Campbell is the best—perhaps the only choice—for such a project.  However, my appreciation not only extends to the subject matter, but also for how Clanton brings Campbell’s philosophy of religion into dialogue with contemporary discussions. In the language of Vatican II’s aggiornamento, Clanton brings the Campbellian philosophical tradition “up to date.”

Clanton’s work is impressive. His analysis of Campbell’s ideas are fair, clear, and illuminating. His re-contextualization of Campbell’s thought is insightful. He demonstrates that Campbell squarely faced the questions that philosophy of religion raised in the early nineteenth century. Campbell was well-acquainted with the philosophical issues of his day. Not only does this demonstrate that the Stone-Campbell Movement has its own “philosopher,” but that the philosophic tradition Campbell represented may yet still provide some guidance in our current context. And, yet, I think it remains clear—as Clanton’s discussion of the Campbell’s ideation argument for the existence of God indicates—that Campbell, as a philosopher of ideas, is a deeply rooted empirical Biblicist who only ventures into metaphysical waters as a negative apologetic while always staying within sight of the empirical shore.

At the 2012 Christian Scholars Conference I offered a response to Caleb’s manuscript regarding Campbell’s understanding of Arminian-esque theodicy. Campbell’s theodicy, as Clanton unfolds it, is focused on the Free Will Defense, responds to the “Divine Hiddenness” problem, and articulates a high view of providence (even meticulous providence) that denies gratuitous evil.  My response to Clanton is available here.

The 2013 Christian Scholars Conference is currently in progress. Gary Holloway asked me to present a paper that would respond to the ecumenical 1982 Lima “Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry.”

I have uploaded the paper on my Academic page and it is now available here.

The paper suggests that the great strength of the document is its fundamental theological orientation but that its weakness is its strongly institutional character.

To figure out what that means I guess one will have to read the paper.

Blessings

John Mark

Hebel

That is an important word for the writer of Ecclesiastes. It is a word that comes to mind on May 21 every year since 2001.  That was the day Joshua died. It was also the day John Robert died in 2008. Indeed, it is a day on which many people have died.

Hebel

You may not recognize the word, but it is used 37 times in Ecclesiastes (only 70x in the whole Hebrew Bible). At a literal and formal level it might be rendered “breath” and thus allude to the brevity of life.  At a metaphorical level it might be rendered “vanity, empty, meaningless” and thus allude to the pointlessness of life.

Hebel

The word has much more of a punch than even “meaningless” or “vanity” in Ecclesiastes. It encompasses the unfathomable nature of life, the deep impenetrable mystery of life….and death. Bartholomew’s commentary suggests “enigma.” Life is enigmatic because we simply don’t know; we are limited in perspective and we can’t figure it out.

Hebel

But the word has more punch than that. This is why some, like Michael Fox and Peter Enns, suggest “absurd.” Life is frustrating. The seemingly ceaseless, circular, and pointless merry-go-round of life has no goal, no meaning, and no worth. Life–because of death–is simply absurd.

Hebel

What lies behind Ecclesiastes is a whole Hebrew tradition, including the Torah, and more particularly the opening narrative of Genesis 1-11. When Qohelet probes life he finds the narrative world of Abel (the same Hebrew word hebel). The seemingly pointless, absurd and unjust death of Abel at the hands of Cain is a symbol for human existence. Our lives are like Abel’s.

Hebel

We have to give Qohelet his due. We must sit with him–and it would do us good to sit with him for a season rather than move on too quickly. Sometimes we are forced to sit with him as we are overwhelmed with the horror of human existence. We recoil at death of children at nature’s hand in Oklahoma as well as the hand of the mentally ill in Connecticut. Sometimes all we can do is agree with Qohelet, “Everything is absolutely absurd!”

Hebel

Paul alludes to this word (Romans 8:20). He uses the term that the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible used to translate hebel. He recognizes the frustration and futility of the present bondage which enslaves the creation. Life is not as it should be. The creation groans and the children of God lament. We lament days like May 21.

Hebel

And, without forgetting that life is hebel, we also recognize the good and the joys God has provided today. Life is both hebel and filled with the gifts of the Creator.

So today, we lament and we remember that life is hebel.

But we also, today, accept God’s gifts with gratitude and joy.

How do we do both? Some days, I don’t know. Other days, it is obvious. Ask me tomorrow.

Titled as an “Apocalypse” and described as a “prophecy” in the superscription, the text begins like a letter. It has all the typical elements of standard letter openings from that era but it is also thoroughly Christian, even with a Triune salutation.

Author:   John
Audience:   Seven Churches of Asia
Salutation:   Grace and Peace from

1.  the One
2.  the Seven Spirits
3.  Jesus the Messiah

Doxology:   Eternal Glory and Power to Jesus
Theme:   Jesus is coming
Declaration:   Thus says the Lord God, the All-Powerful

The audience knows the author. He simply introduces himself as “John” which means that he was well known in the Roman province of Asia. Early Christian tradition in the second century identifies him as the Apostle John, the beloved disciple (e.g., Irenaeus, Justin Martyr [according to Eusebius],  Clement of Alexandria, and Tertullian).  That is impressive late second and early third century evidence and geographically diverse.  But other early Christians (e.g., Dionysius in the mid-third century and Eusebius in the 4th century) thought the language wasso different from the Gospel of John that it could not be the same person. Whatever the conclusion, it does not substantially affect how we read the Apocalypse. John–known in Asia Minor–is a fellow-sufferer, a leader of the Christian movement who has seen a vision, and has been given the Apocalypse of Jesus the Messiah.

The audience situates the context of the Apocalypse in the Roman province of Asia Minor. The seven churches are identified in chapters two and three, but these are not the only churches in the province (e.g., Colossae). Why these seven? Some suggest it because they were all connected by a circular road or perhaps they were particularly under fire in ways others were not. But it seems more consistent with the nature of an Apocalypse that seven churches were chosen because the number is symbolic (one of many septets in the book)–these seven churches represent the whole church in Asia Minor, perhaps the universal church itself. The Apocalypse, in effect, is addressed to the whole church though specifically contextualized by the life and experience of the churches in Asia Minor.

The salutation, unlike any other in the New Testament, is triune: Father,  Son and Spirit (cf. Bauckham, Theology of Revelation). Each is characterized in a plurality of ways.

• “The one who is, who was and who is coming” (ESV). The Greek is not standard grammar (apo should be followed by a genitive rather than a nominative), but John does this in order to reproduce the Greek translation of the divine name in Exodus 3:14. In other words, John identifies the Father with Yahweh, the God of Israel. The threefold characterization underscores that Yahweh knows the beginning from the end (the Alpha and the Omega in 1:8), eternally God and eternally present.
• The identity of the “seven spirits before His throne” is more disputed though I think the Triune context clarifies it. While some identify the spirits with the seven angels of the churches or the seven principal angels around the throne (as in some early Jewish literature) the context here–as part of the inner divine circle (cf. Revelation 4:5) and sandwhiched between Father and Son–points us to the Holy Spirit (cf. the language of Isaiah 11:2-3; Zechariah 4:2, 6. 10). “Seven” reminds us of the fullness of the divine presence in the person of the Spirit.
• Jesus the Messiah is characterized in three ways. The total effect is to underscore the significance of his death (martyrdom), resurrection (firstborn from the death), and ascension (present reign). This is the firm ground upon which the drama is built–the identity of Jesus means that the kingdoms of the earth have no power over him, and ultimately over his followers. While Ceasar may claim power, it is the Messiah who truly exercises divine power.
  • “the faithful witness” — while “witness” (martus) certainly includes his death, it also points to the living witness of his faithful obedience to the Father. He was faithful even unto death (cf. 2:10).
  • “firstborn from the dead” — this does not necessarily mean he was the first one to be raised from the dead (though that is true in terms of new creation), but may also mean that among those raised from the dead he is the preeminent one. He is the “firstborn” in terms of inheritance, authority, and power as well as the first to emerge from the grave as a new creation.
  • “ruler of the kings of the earth” — probably an allusion to Psalm 89:27, Yahweh’s “firstborn” king rules over all other kings. This description is particularly apt as the conflict within the Apocalypse is between the reign of God and earthly powers (kings). Jesus is the true king, not Caesar.

The doxology is offered to Jesus which reflects an early worship of Jesus as a participant in the divine fellowship. Jesus is praised because he is the one who has acted redemptively on behalf of the people of God. He is the one who loved, freed (by his blood), and appointed us a kingdom of priests. The eternal (“forever and ever”) glory and dominion (power) belong to him. The focus of the doxology is Christocentric though the goal (telos) is the Father.  Jesus acts so that he might offer (or, we might become) a kingdom of priests to “His God and Father.” The ultimate goal is the Father but this is accomplished through Jesus the Messiah. The doxology draws attention to Jesus as a central figure in the drama of redemption.

The language of love, freedom (release from sin), and constituting a priestly kingdom stand in contrast to the kingdoms of the earth. While Caesar may claim a benevolent disposition toward his subjects, praise belongs to the one who has actually loved, freed, and created us. This is something Jesus did by “his blood” (that is, by his faithful witness). The church is a priestly kingdom just as was Israel (Exodus 19:6). The language assumes a continuity between Israel and the Church as the reign of God within the world.

Revelation 1:8 (the thus “says the Lord God” or declaration) functions as an inclusio as it repeats the identity of Yahweh (“who is, who was, and who is coming”). But it also serves to ground the reality and certainty of the “motto” or “theme” present in Revelation 1:7. Yahweh, the eternal God, is the beginning (Alpha) and the end (Omega). Yahweh is sovereign and will accomplish whatever is promised. God is Almighty (pantokrator); the Lord is all-powerful who rules all other powers. Revelation 1:7 is the promise guarenteed by God’s omnipotence.

The dramatic (and thus thematic) nature of the oracle is announced by the interjection–“Behold!” In other words, pay attention to this! Watch this! The presence of the interjection in the salutation underscores the significance of what follows for not only for this section but for the whole book. This is a thematic announcement soleminized by the word of the Lord God Almighty.

John constructs a poetic announcement built on Daniel 7:13 and Zechariah 12:10. Jesus is coming with glory (clouds) and the tribes of the earth will mourn. The motto is as simple as this: Jesus is coming. But that is also complicated. What does the text mean by “coming” and how is this played out in the rest of the Apocalypse?

When Jesus addresses the seven churches, twice he promises to come in judgment upon their sins–not in a distant eschatological future, but in the immediate present (Revelation 2:5, 16). The present coming of Jesus anticipates the future coming, but it appears that the “coming of Jesus” is, as Beale (Revelation, 197) argues, “a process occurring throughout history” that culminates in the final eschatological coming of Jesus. Each coming (or visitation) within history, however, is a proleptic experience of the final one (what Christians normally call the “second coming”). Each coming, then, as Fair notes in his commentary, is described in eschatological language as a prolepsis of what is to come.

The theme (motto) is focused on the coming of Jesus in judgment against the “tribes of the earth.” They will lament his appearance, and the “tribes” lament the judgment of God throughout the Apocalypse (cf. Revelation 11:9; 13:7; 14:6) though there are also “tribes” that rejoice in the victory of the Lamb (cf. Revelation 5:9; 7:9). This fits with the context of Zechariah 12 since it envisions a day when God will judge the nations and pour out grace on the righteous.

The motto, then, anticipates the final eschatological coming of Jesus, but also prepares us to hear the Apocalypse in its setting. When God comes in judgment–whether against the church or the “tribes of the earth” within history–it is a proleptic experience of the final coming of Jesus. The seven churches, then, will experience within their own history the mercy and judgment of God in the present as a manifestation of God’s ultimate goal–to cleanse the earth and redeem it. The nations of the earth, particularly imperial Rome within the situation of the seven churches, will also experience the mercy and judgment of God. Each of these, however, bear witness to the final victory of God in the promised eschatological return of Jesus.

Yahweh–who was, is, and is coming–is coming in the person of Jesus who is the resurrected, ascended, and enthroned Lord that rules the kings of the earth. God is continually coming, visiting, acting, judging, and redeeming. As Jesus executes his reign, he comes again and again. No one will escape his notice (eveyone will experience this continual presence of God) and he will judge all the tribes of the earth.

The one who loved us, freed us and made us a priestly kingdom is also the one who judges the earth. His people will praise him and the nations will lament “on account of him.”

Living in a hostile culture, threatened on every side, and tempted to accomodate the pressure through compromise and syncretism, the church may have felt abanonded. God’s response is the “Apocalypse of Jesus,” and the primary theme is:  Jesus is coming. This is no mere distant future promise to a struggling chruch in the late first century. Rather, it is the assurance that Jesus is and will continue to act on behalf of his people as he exercises the reign of God in the world and will ultimately set things right in the creation despoiled by evil.

“Jesus is coming” is a theodic statement–God is present within history and God will set things right. The church can trust this promise both now and for the future.

[My book Meeting God at the Shack, from which some of the following is derived, is now available on Kindle.]

May 21-22 are significant anniversaries for me; I’ve learned to forgive God.  They are the death of my son Joshua and the anniversary of my first marriage to Sheila.

“To forgive God” is a difficult expression and it must be carefully nuanced.  When Rabbi Kushner adopted J.B.’s position from Archibald MacLeish’s modern retelling of the Job drama, he suggested that humans need to forgive God in order to move on with their lives.  Humans need “to forgive God for not making a better world.” After all, in Kushner’s worldview, God is ontologically limited–he can’t do anything about evil in the world or heal diseases. To forgive God, then, is to recognize his limitations and not expect more from him than he can deliver.

This is not, however, what I mean by “forgiving God.” It is not to forgive God’s limitations or his unrighteous acts. The transcendent God does not have limitations and he is holy without any darkness.  Forgiveness, in the sense of showing mercy toward an imperfection, is not applicable to God. So, what does it mean to “forgive God”?

Fundamentally, it means letting go of the need to judge God. It means letting go of “getting back” at God, of brooding over the seeming unfairness of it all. That kind of resentment and bitterness not only stalls spiritual growth, it can kill it. Instead of holding a grudge against God, we let it go.

This is has been my experience; my anger with God has led to self-pity and resentment. I have, at times, felt “picked on” by God. I have railed against God with the angry but despairing cry, “This is just too much.” I understand that anger and I cannot simply pretend like it is not there (though I have tried that as well, stuffing it down into my soul). But anger is not the problem–anger should be vented, expressed, prayed. At the same time, it is the deep mistrust that sometimes accompanies anger which turns it into resentment.

When we blame God, we tend to resent God, and are sometimes willing to simply give up on God. This often arises out of a basic distrust of God’s goodness and purposes. When trust re-enters, we can let go of the blame-game, let go of the resentment. This is a form of “forgiving” God.  Trust conquers fear; faith triumphs over resentment; and love does not blame.

Perhaps we might pray:

“God, I don’t understand why this great sadness is part of my life.  I don’t know why you allowed it.  It seems so meaningless and hurtful to me. Every fiber of my being wants to protest and even rebel.  But I know you are good.  I know you love me.  I trust you.  I forgive you and let go of my resentment. Open your heart to me that I might enjoy the circle of your love and feel your fondness for me. Increase my trust and root out my resentment. Though I do not understand or know the way, I will walk by faith and trust that you will lead me in your way.”

“Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives transgression…” Micah 7:18

“forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you…” Ephesians 4:32b

The last verse of Amos promises Israel that once they are planted in the land they will never again be uprooted. The “never again” language is striking and parallels other promises such as the “new heaven and new earth” text in Isaiah 65 where “never again” (same Hebrew terms) will anyone weep or infants die. “Never again” is eschatological language which fulfills the Abrahamic promise that Israel would inherit the land as an “everlasting possession” (Genesis 17:8).

The problem is identifying when this will happen or has happened.  Here are a few options.

• Some believe the Abrahamic land promise was fulfilled when Joshua conquered the land and Israel took possession. [But this cannot apply to Amos 9:15 since this is a further promise if not a continuation of the Abrahamic promise.]
• Some believe the Abrahamic land promise as given Amos 9:15 was fulfilled when Judah returned from Babylonian exile. [But the prosperity envisioned in Amos 9:13-15 does not fit well with the postexilic situation. Further, Israel was not part of the restoration when Judah returned, and clearly the postexilic community was uprooted.]
• Some believe that Amos 9:15 is a conditional prophecy, but since Israel never returned to God, so God never returned to them. [Conditional prophecy is part of the Hebrew prophetic tradition but there is no indication that this is assumed here. Rather, Amos 9:15 appears as an effect of the rebuilding of the “tent of David” and the inclusion of the Gentiles, and these are assumed fulfilled or in process by James in Acts 15:13-18.]
• Some believe the Abrahamic land promise (such as Amos 9:15) was fulfilled when the Gentiles were included among the people of God. Consequently, the land promise is spiritualized as equivalent to the church or, at least, spiritualized as referring to the heavenly (celestial) land called “heaven.” [But in Acts 15 James did not quote this section of Amos and was only talking about the inclusion of the Gentiles. The land promise was not up for discussion. To spiritualize the text as referring to either church or heaven is to stand to far outside the Hebrew text and actually subvert the promise itself.]
• Some believe the Abrahamic promise began to be fulfilled when the modern nation state of Israel was established in 1948. It can only be a beginning because the type of prosperity described in Amos 9:13-15 are yet future it would seem. [But it is unclear whether the modern state has any relation to biblical Israel other than a majority Jewish ethnicity. The modern state is certainly not the land of justice, peace and prosperity that is envisioned for a renewed Israel.]
• Some believe that the Abrahamic promise will be fulfilled eschatologically, that is, Israel will inherit the land in the new heavens and new earth. [This is my own view.]

It seems to me that the Abrahamic promise is not limited to ethnic Israel but rather also includes the nations.  The inclusion of the nations among the people of God prepares the earth for its renewal. Whether ethnic Israel will inhabit Palestine as it appears in the new heavens and new earth (whatever that might look like) is possible (perhaps probable) but it is unnecessary to theorize about that in order to affirm the larger theological point.

In the article below, reproduced from a previous post, I offer my own perspective on the land promise and its eschatological fulfillment.

The Land as Our Inheritance

When God called Abraham, he promised blessings through which all the nations would be blessed (Genesis 12:2-3). Included in those blessings is the land promise (Genesis 12:6-7). The promised land is part of the Abrahamic promise.

This land promise is both overplayed as some identify the contemporary state of Israel with this land promise and undervalued as others see no fulfillment of this promise in Israel’s Messiah who is Abraham’s seed. The former think that the state of Israel is the fulfillment (or at least the beginning of the fulfillment) of God’s promise to Israel while the later believe the land promise no longer obtains after Israel was returned from Babylonian exile. I would like to propose an alternative as I don’t think either of the above options are viable.

Israel is described as the “people of [God’s} inheritance” (Deuteronomy 4:20; cf. 1 Kings 8:53) The land was part of Israel’s inheritance as the firstborn son of God among the nations (Exodus 32:13; Leviticus 20:24; Deuteronomy 4:21). One need only to skim the Torah, especially Deuteronomy, to recognize the central role the land plays as the inheritance Israel receives from Yahweh as God’s children.

Psalm 37 is a good example how the hope of inheriting the land, living in the land, and experiencing the goodness of God in the land is intergral to Israel’s joy in the Lord. Disturbed by the prosperity of the wicked, the Psalmist assures Israel that those who hope in and wait on the Lord will inherit the land. Six times the Psalmist promises–and Israel liturgically rehearses promise–that Israel will ultimately receive its promised inheritance. They will “inherit the land.” Jesus himself practically quotes Psalm 37:11 when he announces: “Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5).

As part of the Abrahamic promise, the land is not conditioned by the Mosaic covenant. This means that the intent of God to fulfill his promise to Abraham is not conditioned by Torah-obedience. Whether the nation of Israel at any particular time or individuals within Israel at any particular time possess the land is conditioned on Torah-obedience, but the ultimate fulfillment that Israel would inherit the land is unqualified. It is as unconditonal as the promise of the Messiah is.

On the analogy of Paul’s argument in Galatians 3, the promise was before the law and is therefore not ultimately conditioned by the law. Israel will inherit the land as God promised Abraham. It is a divine promise and God keeps his promises. More explicitly, Paul notes that “it was not through the law that Abraham and his offspring received the promise” (Romans 4:13).

This is a significant point–a critical juncture. The Abrahamic promise belongs to the children of Israel. The land is part of the Abrahamic promise. The children of Israel will possess the land; it is their inheritance.

But who is Israel? Who are the children of Abraham? Paul is, I think, clear. Since the “promise comes by faith,” it is “guarenteed to all Abraham’s offspring–not only to those who are of the law” (e.g., Torah-obeying ethnic Israel) “but also to those who have the faith of Abraham” (e.g., including the nations). In this sense Abraham is the “father of many nations;” he is the “father of us all” (Romans 4:16-17). The Gentiles (nations) have been grafted into Israel through faith (Romans 11:17). Those who belong to Messiah–those in Christ–are the children of Abraham and thus heirs of the promise (Galatians 3:29).

But does this include the land? Yes, indeed. As Paul phrases it, Abraham was the “heir of the world” (kosmos)….not just the land of Palestine (Romans 4:13). The inheritance of the children of Abraham is the world–the whole cosmos.

This is not a land we possess by violence or by purchase. Rather, we receive it by faith in the Messiah and on the ground of the faithfulness of the Messiah. The “faith(fulness) of Jesus” secures the inheritance for Israel and we participate in it through faith (Galatians 3:22). The Messiah is the heir of the all things and we are co-heirs with the Messiah through faith (Romans 8:17).

The creation is the inheritance of the people of God. We yet await, according to Romans 8:18-25, the full adoption into the family of God when we our bodies are redeemed (resurrection) and the creation is liberated (new heaven and new earth of Revelation 21:1-4). That is our inheritance. John reminds of the whole Abrahamic trajectory (Genesis 17:8) with this language himself in Revelation: “Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children” (22:7).

The Abrahamic promise was first given to ethnic Israel but, by faith and because of the Messiah, it includes the nations as well. Perhaps on the new heaven and new earth the redeemed of ethnic Israel will dwell in Palestine–in the land between the rivers of Egypt and Babylon–but the whole earth will belong to the people of God as they again reign on the earth with God. The kingdom of God will fill the earth!

I think this accounts for Paul’s language about inheritance. He writes about inheriting “the kingdom of God” (1 Corinthians 6:9-10; Galatians 5:21; Ephesians 5:5; cf. James 2:5). He praises God for the gifting us with the Spirit as a downpayment of our inheritance which will arrive when God has fully redeemed his possession (people; Ephesians 1:14–that phraseology is loaded with Hebraic expression and thought). Through faith, Paul writes, we are “qualified to share in the inheritance of the saints in the kingdom of light” (Colossians 1:12).

The fullness of the kingdom of God, which is yet future, is our inheritance. It is the ultimate fulfillment of the Abrahamic promise through which God will make Israel a great nation, a great name and bless all the nations. That promise includes the land–the whole cosmos, and it belongs to all those who place their hope in Yahweh’s Messiah.

Consequently, the new heaven and new earth as the renewed (new) creation is integral to the plot line of the story of God from Abraham to the eschaton. The earth is the inheritance of God’s people and one day the reign of God will fill it from the east to the west, from the north to the south. The whole earth, unlike its present condition, will be “Holy to the Lord.”

May your kingdom come, may your will be done, on earth as it is heaven!