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The Journey with Jesus: Notes to Myself

Weekly essays by Dan Clendenin

Essay posted 12 November 2007

The Hope of History:
From a Garden to a City

For Sunday November 18, 2007

           Lectionary Readings (Revised Common Lectionary, Year C)l
           Isaiah 65:17–25 or Malachi 4:1–2a
           Isaiah 12 or Psalm 98
           2 Thessalonians 3:6–13
           Luke 21:5–19

Easter Island.
Easter Island.

           To celebrate the occasion of its 150th anniversary, the current issue of the Atlantic Monthly (November 2007) invited an eclectic mix of scholars, novelists, politicians, artists, and others to write 300-word essays on "the future of the American idea." The zealous atheist Sam Harris, author of The End of Faith (2004) and Letter to a Christian Nation (2006), used his opportunity to deride Christians for their "abject superstition" of believing that "Jesus will return someday and orchestrate the end of the world with his magic powers."

           Harris's sarcasm notwithstanding, the End of human history is a brutal certitude not a Christian platitude, causing most thoughtful people to wonder, "what then?" I can think of four scenarios.

           If you're a male in Liberia, your life expectancy at birth is 39 years. If you're lucky enough to be born a woman in Japan, demographers estimate that you'll live more than twice that long, about 84.7 years. But no matter who you are or where you're born, mortality rates are 100%. Then comes your personal End — either personal annihilation and absolute nothingness or "magic power" of some sort. Almost every people and culture of every time and place have believed the latter.

           Archaeological ruins like the huge and haunting moai statues on Easter Island in the South Pacific, or the Incan architecture of the "lost city" of Machu Picchu, remind us that entire cultures have collapsed. Thus, environmental experts like Jared Diamond (Collapse) speak of civilizational or cultural death. His case studies show how some of history's most advanced civilizations have vanished. Without major course corrections, many social-scientific studies predict apocalyptic scenarios due to nuclear weapons, global warming, population growth in the places that can least sustain it, over-consumption of limited fossil fuels, massive economic inequalities, large scale displacements of populations, famines, and wars. Civilizational End has numerous precedents.

           The End of the earth is a given; it will just take a while. My friend and solar physicist Charles says that in about 5 billion years the sun will expand into a red giant 10,000,000 times its present volume, at which time it will incinerate and eventually swallow the Earth. If the sun is about 4.6 billion years old, as many scientists estimate, we're about half way to the End of the earth.

           As hard as it is to fathom a Milky Way with no planet earth, that's nothing, astronomically-speaking, compared to the cosmic End of the universe as we know it. Physicists are divided, but equally bleak. If the expansion of the Big Bang continues to propel everything outward, our galaxies will fly apart forever, although individual galaxies will collapse into black holes. But if the forces of gravity prevail, the expanding universe will eventually reverse its expansion and collapse into a Big Crunch. "It is as sure as can be," writes the particle physicist and Anglican priest John Polkinghorne, "that humanity, and all forms of carbon-based life, will prove a transient episode in the history of the cosmos."

           So, we all face inevitable "Ends"—personal, civilizational, global and cosmic. But then what? What comes after the End?

Earthrise over the moon.
Earthrise over the moon.

           No one knows, or even can know. Any position you take constitutes an act of faith. In his review of The God Delusion by the Oxford atheist Richard Dawkins, Jim Holt thus observes that "short of a miraculous occurrence, the only thing that might resolve the matter is an experience beyond the grave—what theologians used to call, rather pompously, 'eschatological verification.' If the after-death options are either a beatific vision (God) or oblivion (no God), then it is poignant to think that believers will never discover that they are wrong, whereas Dawkins and fellow atheists will never discover that they are right" (New York Times, October 22, 2006).

           Christians propose a fifth alternative. Christian "eschatology" (from the Greek eschaton, last things) believes that humanity's Earthly End is not the Ultimate End. The God who created the world will consummate its redemption. What began in the Garden of Eden will end in the City of Jerusalem.

           This hope is broadly and deeply embedded in the Hebrew prophets. Isaiah's prophetic poetry imagines that God will "create new heavens and a new earth" (Isaiah 65:17ff). As one might expect from a prophet of his time and place, Isaiah pictures this as an urban renewal of Jerusalem. Centuries later, the first Christians, all Jewish, pictured the new heaven and earth as a New Jerusalem "coming down out of heaven" (Revelation 21:1–4). Isaiah also envisions universal environmental wholeness: "the wolf and the lamb will feed together" (65:25). With the explicit literary similarity to Genesis 1:1 ("God created the heavens and the earth."), Isaiah 65:17 bookends human history—what started in an idyllic garden culminates in an urban renewal.

           Jesus also speaks of the Christian hope of cosmic renewal in this week's lectionary. He describes redemption "drawing near" for "the whole earth" (Luke 21:28, 35). So too Paul. In light of the future cosmic redemption, he says, we should engage the world rather than idle away the days and withdraw from it. Apparently some Thessalonians had quit their jobs and stopped working because of their belief that the return of Christ was imminent (2 Thessalonians 3:6–13).

           And so following the Hebrew prophets, Jesus, and Paul, Christians have confessed this "blessed hope" (Titus 2:13) down through the centuries. In the small Presbyterian church where I grew up, every Sunday we confessed the Apostles' Creed (third or fourth century), one line of which reads, "from whence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead." Every once in a while we'd confess with the Nicene Creed (325) that Jesus shall "come again in glory to judge the living and the dead." Similarly, in the Lord's Prayer we prayed that God's kingdom would come "on earth as it is in heaven."

The Whirlpool Galaxy, M51, seen by Hubble in 2005.
The Whirlpool Galaxy, M51, seen by Hubble in 2005.

           This hope for an Ultimate Cosmic Correction is not only a Christian hope. I think it's an innately human hope rooted in our sense of and longing for a Future and Final justice. For every Kurd gassed by Saddam Hussein, for every girl in Darfur gang-raped by janjaweed militia, and for every homeless person who wanders America's streets. I think this is why Psalm 98 for this week summons not only "all the earth" (98:3,4) but all creation (98:7,8) to celebrate the expectation of divine judgment. Many people think of divine judgment in negative terms; the psalmist rejoices in it, for at long last "God will judge the world in righteousness and the peoples with equity" (98:9). That will be a good day, not a bad day.

           How will all this happen? I have no idea. We needn't know the details of the "last days" described by Isaiah, Jesus or Paul. I like CS Lewis's analogy of actors in a very real drama. We don't know everything about the play, whether we're in the first or last act, or even which characters play the minor and major roles. In our ignorance, we really have no idea when the End of the play ought to come. But the plot will find fulfillment, even if our limited understanding right now obscures it. Perhaps the Author will fill us in after it is over, but for now, "playing it well is what matters infinitely."

For further reflection:

* The Left Behind books (sales of over 65 million copies) are not good theology or good literature, and they're full of what one critic calls "voyeuristic violence," but what might they tell us about the deepest longings of ordinary people?
* Watch the film Blade Runner (1982), which envisions a very dark future for humanity in a dystopic Los Angeles in the year 2019.
* See Alister McGrath, A Brief History of Heaven (2003) and CS Lewis, The Great Divorce.