The Spirit of the Lord, §10.6: Eschatology

Sixth, the vision of the New Jerusalem is eschatological. I have already said much about eschatology. In a sense, this entire essay is an attempt to understand the eschatological being of the church, hence the repeated discussion of the “eschatological reign of God” and the “eschatological community.” Moreover, the texts buttressing this entire project are all eschatologically oriented. The passage from Micah indicates this eschatological setting with the introductory words “in days to come,” obviously related to the common prophetic refrain, “the day of the LORD.” Rather than repeat what I have already said, I will instead examine the relation between the eschatological kingdom and the ekklesia in the following three ways: (1) what does it mean for the ecclesial community to embody the eschatological reign of God? (2) what must be true for the ecclesial community to embody the eschatological reign of God? and (3) what is the distinction between the ecclesial community and the eschatological reign of God? To put it differently, we will examine (1) the eschatological identity of the ekklesia, (2) the eschatological basis of the ekklesia, and (3) the eschatological limit of the ekklesia.

To structure our investigation of eschatology in this way is to move very deliberately from actuality to possibility, rather than the other way around. Theology begins with the actuality of God’s self-revelation in Jesus Christ, the actuality of reconciliation, and the actuality of the church as a community of witnesses to God’s grace. Theology does not first establish grounds for the possibility of these realities, precisely because theology concerns God, who does not conform to human possibilities but instead radically reconfigures the horizon of possibility. God establishes what is truly possible, and thus we only know what is possible in light of what is actual. In other words, theology operates on the basis of a kind of transcendental argument: we begin with what is already actual and then investigate the grounds of possibility for this actuality. As a concrete example, we begin with our reconciliation to God in Jesus Christ, and then examine what must be true for such reconciliation to have occurred (e.g., the triunity of God, the assumptio carnis, the two natures of Christ). After moving from actuality to possibility, I move from possibility to impossibility in order to identify both sides of the dialectical being of the church. The first question discusses the identification between ekklesia and the regnum Dei, while the third question discusses the differentiation between ekklesia and the regnum Dei. The second question in the middle focuses on the christological-soteriological ground for the being of the church which undergirds both sides of the eschatological dialectic.

Review of Stephen J. Grabill on natural law

Travis McMaken of DET has written a fine review of the new book by Stephen J. Grabill, Rediscovering the Natural Law in Reformed Theological Ethics (Emory University Studies in Law and Religion; Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2006). The book seeks to defend a Reformed conception of natural law in the wake of its eclipse in the twentieth century due largely to the Barth-Brunner debate. Grabill thus looks behind Barth in order to examine what the Reformed tradition has to offer toward the development of a natural theology on Reformed theological soil. McMaken’s review is a solid overview of the book which criticizes Grabill for pushing Barth aside much too quickly.

Capital punishment abuses

Today’s editorial in the New York Times addresses the issue of capital punishment. In particular, the editorial discusses recent abuses of lethal injection, in which states such as Missouri are hiring incompetent and unqualified “doctors” to handle the injections, resulting in numerous botched executions.

The Times writes: “We oppose capital punishment for a host of reasons, including that it is unconstitutional. Even those who support executing their citizens must see the need to ensure that the process is not barbarically cruel and is fully open to public scrutiny.” I fully agree with their position, though I would cite biblical and theological reasons to reject capital punishment (see here). At the very least, our society needs to be a place where life-taking acts are not simply accepted without question but are continually subjected to careful scrutiny and outside assessment. The taking of human life is no trivial matter. The moral fabric of this nation depends upon an awareness of how serious the matter of capital punishment really is, while the moral fabric of the church depends upon a consistently pro-life position that rejects capital punishment.

Paul among the Evangelicals, §3: The Argument (3.2)

3.2. The Arguments for and against Universalism in Rom. 5:12-21

While there is some debate over how to organize Paul’s convoluted argument in vv. 12-21, a large majority of scholars agree that Paul begins in v. 12 with a protasis which is not followed by its apodosis until v. 18. In vv. 13-17, Paul answers hypothetical questions regarding his original assertion that sin and death came into the world through one human, and on that basis came to all people.[16] The heart of Paul’s argument, as well as the argument for a Pauline-based universalism, is found in the parallel statements of Rom. 5:18-19:

Therefore just as one man’s trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man’s act of righteousness leads to justification and life (δικαίωσις ζωῆς) for all. For just as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous. (NRSV)

On the basis of this verse, there are two main questions: (1) what does “all” mean? and (2) what is the relation between the “one” and the “many,” between Adam and all, on the one hand, and Christ and all, on the other? The proponents of universalism argue in response to these two questions: (1a) the “all/many” who are referenced in vv. 18a and 19a are the very same ones referenced in vv. 18b and 19b; and (2a) the actuality of the relation between Adam and the rest of humanity (condemnation) corresponds to the actuality of the relation between Christ and the rest of humanity (justification). The critics of universalism argue instead: (1b) the “all/many” reference in vv. 18-19 is determined not by its parallel structure but by the differences between the “one man” Adam and the “one man” Christ, and in particular, by v. 17; and (2b) there is no correspondence of actuality between those represented by Adam and those represented by Christ, because the movement between Christ and the humanity is a movement from potentiality to actuality, from possibility to reality. I will address the two questions under debate in more detail.

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16. Cf. Stanley E. Porter, “The Argument of Romans 5: Can a Rhetorical Question Make a Difference?” Journal of Biblical Literature 110:4 (1991), 671f. John Poirier argues “against most scholars” that vv. 13-14 are an expository rather than disjunctive parenthesis; “Romans 5:13-14 and the Universality of Law,” Novum Testamentum 38:4 (1996), 356.

Scott Cairns: the T. S. Eliot of the 21st century

That this blog is named after a line from T. S. Eliot’s Four Quartets should be a clear indication that Eliot’s poetry has a special place in my heart. I do not exaggerate when I say that reading Eliot made me a theologian. Without his poetry, I am not sure where I would be today. That said, I could see someone like me a decade or two from now naming a blog after a line from a poem by Scott Cairns. He is without question one of the world’s finest living poets, and like T. S. Eliot, R. S. Thomas, and Denise Levertov before him (among others), his poetry engages the Christian faith in creative and surprising—not to mention truly human—ways.

Cairns writes poetry as an Orthodox Christian, though it wasn’t always so. He began Baptist, before wandering through the Presbyterian and Episcopal churches on his way toward the Orthodox Church. His journey within the Orthodox tradition is evident in his writings. After a number of beautiful books of poetry beginning with Theology of Doubt, Cairns published his first collection of poems, entitled Philokalia (meaning: “love of the beautiful”), after the Greek collection of Orthodox spiritual texts ranging from the fourth to the fifteenth centuries that was originally compiled and published in the eighteenth century. In the meantime, he went on several pilgrimages, three to Mt. Athos, the mystical and spiritual heart of Orthodoxy. These trips became a book released earlier this year called, Short Trip to the Edge: Where Earth Meets Heaven—A Pilgrimage. (An excerpt from this book was published in Books & Culture under the same title.)

Most recently, Cairns has published Love’s Immensity: Mystics on the Endless Life, which is a truly marvelous collection of poems in which Cairns has “translated” selections from the early church mystics (used broadly to refer to all the spiritually and theologically important figures in the early church) into poetry. The poems all share Cairns’ distinctive style, but they bear the distinctive stamp of each church theologian. The poems are even more profound when you are familiar with the mystical-theological writings from which Cairns is drawing. One of my favorites so far is from Saint Melito of Sardis, entitled, “How It Was”:

How It Was

The earth trembled; its foundations
shook like silt; the sun, chagrined,
fled the scene, and every mundane
element scattered in retreat. The day
became the night: for light could not endure
the image of the Master hanging on a tree.
All creation was astonished, perplexed
and stammering, What new mystery is this?
The Judge is judged, and yet He holds his peace;
the Invisible One is utterly exposed, and yet
is not ashamed; the Incomprehensible is grasped,
and will not turn indignant; the Immensity
is circumscribed, and acquiesces; the absolutely
Unattainable suffers, and yet does not avenge;
the Immortal dies, and utters not a word;
the Celestial is pressed into the earthen grave,
and He endures! What new mystery is this?
The whole creation, I say, was astonished;
but, when our Lord stood up in Hades—
trampling death underfoot, subduing
the strong one, setting every captive free—
then all creation saw clearly that for its sake
the Judge was condemned, et cetera.
For our Lord, even when He deigned
to be born, was condemned in order
that He might show mercy, was bound
that He might loose, was seized
that He might release, suffered
that He might show compassion, died
that He might give life, was laid in the grave
that He might rise, might raise.

—Scott Cairns, Love’s Immensity: Mystics on the Endless Life (Brewster, MA: Paraclete Press, 2007), 9-10.

Barth: the church must be political

“The Christian Church knows only one Lord, His system, His law, His power. But it knows this Lord as the Lord of all lords. It therefore sees His order, His will, His institution and His hand in political systems, with all their provisional and limited aims. It realises that political systems are run by men. But it sees a divine commission above and behind this provisional and limited work of man. It sees a necessary and wholesome gift of God in this work of man. What is at issue is the preservation of the common life from chaos. Political systems create and preserve a space for that which must happen in the time between the beginning and the end of which we have spoken: a space for the fulfilment of the purpose of world history, a space for faith, repentance and knowledge. They create a space for the life and mission of the Christian Church and therefore a space for something the whole world needs. … The Church knows all the more what political systems are for. Political systems may be as unecclesiastical as they like, but the Church cannot on any account be unpolitical, and that applies to all its members too.”

—Karl Barth, Against the Stream: Shorter Post-War Writings 1946-52 (London: SCM Press, 1954), 80-81

Paul among the Evangelicals, §3: The Argument (3.1)

3. The Argument over Universalism in Rom. 5:12-21

3.1. A Typology of Universalisms

Before laying out the case for universalism in Rom. 5, it is important to gain some clarity over the meaning of the word “universalism.” The word admits of multiple meanings, and at the risk of oversimplification, I will summarize the three types mentioned by Robin Parry and Christopher Partridge: (1) multiracial universalism, (2) Arminian universalism, and (3) strong universalism.[15] The first is taken for granted by Christians today and simply denotes the fact that people from “every tribe and language and people and nation” (Rev. 5:9) are included within the family of God. The second so-called Arminian position is universalist in that God desires every individual to be saved and in fact offers salvation to all—in other words, a universalism in potentiality. In concert with this universal offer of salvation, the Arminian position stresses a kind of libertarian free will which leaves the final outcome—salvation or damnation—up to each individual. The third category includes a few different sub-types: (a) non-Christian universalism, (b) “pluralist universalism,” of the kind advocated by John Hick, and (c) “Christian universalism.” Since the debate under discussion is among Protestant evangelicals who all agree that the gospel of Jesus Christ is the only source of salvation, it goes without saying that (a) and (b) are outside the scope of this paper. There are varieties of Christian universalism as well. Some Christian universalists accept the notion of hell, while others do not; some make an explicit declaration of faith in Christ constitutive for salvation (whether in this life or after death), while others do not. The unifying factor is that salvation is in Christ alone (solus Christus). To the arguments for and against universalism in Romans 5 we now turn.

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15. Parry and Partridge, xv-xvii.