Kingdom and Cross

In a January 2011 speech at Bristol School of Christian Studies (Putting the Gospels Back Together: How We’ve All Misread Our Central Story) Anglican Bishop N. T. Wright makes a compelling case that modern hermeneutics often sacrifices either the kingdom (Gospels) for the cross (Epistles) or else the atonement (Epistles) for social engagement (Gospels). He maintains that these two – kingdom and cross – must never be divorced nor even held in tension, but rather seen as necessary complements: What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.

The kingdom of God, which is nothing less than the reign of Christ over all creation, was inaugurated in the life and ministry of Jesus of Nazareth and reached its climax in the cross (and its aftermath of resurrection and ascension). Bishop Wright notes, in paraphrase, that the cross is the cutting edge of the sword of the kingdom. It is perhaps apt to consider the cross the means of accomplishing the goal of making present the kingdom. Redemption, while personal, is never private; it always has a corporate, kingdom dimension.

I suspect that, with this hermeneutic in place, we will catch glimpses – and more than glimpses – of the kingdom-cross union throughout scripture. As one small case in point, I offer the account of the healing of the paralytic in Luke 5:17-26.

17 Now it happened on a certain day, as He was teaching, that there were Pharisees and teachers of the law sitting by, who had come out of every town of Galilee, Judea, and Jerusalem. And the power of the Lord was present to heal them. 18 Then behold, men brought on a bed a man who was paralyzed, whom they sought to bring in and lay before Him. 19 And when they could not find how they might bring him in, because of the crowd, they went up on the housetop and let him down with his bed through the tiling into the midst before Jesus. 20 When He saw their faith, He said to him, “Man, your sins are forgiven you.” 21 And the scribes and the Pharisees began to reason, saying, “Who is this who speaks blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God alone?” 22 But when Jesus perceived their thoughts, He answered and said to them, “Why are you reasoning in your hearts? 23 Which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven you,’ or to say, ‘Rise up and walk’? 24 But that you may know that the Son of Man has power on earth to forgive sins”—He said to the man who was paralyzed, “I say to you, arise, take up your bed, and go to your house.” 25 Immediately he rose up before them, took up what he had been lying on, and departed to his own house, glorifying God. 26 And they were all amazed, and they glorified God and were filled with fear, saying, “We have seen strange things today” (Lk 5:17-26, NKJV)!

The healing ministry of Jesus is an in-breaking of the kingdom; of this there is ample witness in scripture, not least in Mt 11. Thus, any healing must be seen in a kingdom context. But, the narrative structure of this healing account links it strongly with cross, as well. The visual imagery is perhaps the first key. There is, at the center of the story, a paralytic – confined to bed or pallet, unable to come to Jesus on his own. He is carried by friends, who metaphorically – and perhaps literally – dig through a roof to lower the man and pallet into Jesus’ presence. Can we see here a dead man, carried on a bier, and lowered into a tomb – not without hope – but dead nonetheless? And the cause of the man’s “death”? Sin, the condition which Jesus first addresses: “’Man, your sins are forgiven you.’” And with the forgiveness of sins comes resurrection and new life: “Immediately he rose up before them, took up what he had been lying on, and departed to his own house, glorifying God.” It is not a stretch to see this account as a textual icon of the harrowing of hell: Jesus in the midst of sin-bound and dead humanity – by his own death – reaching out to take Adam by the hand, lifting him up to life again. Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death and upon those in the tombs bestowing life.

Thus, what begins as a kingdom story of healing becomes a cruciform story of forgiveness and resurrection. The kingdom comes, this story proclaims, precisely through death, burial, and resurrection and precisely for the forgiveness of sins and the healing of the cosmos. Kingdom and cross belong together.

The purpose of this is not just to promote a more faithful and integrated reading of scripture – though that is no small thing – but a more faithful and integrated life in Christ. Some among us evangelize to save the soul but leave the body poor and hungry and naked and homeless; these must embrace Jesus’ kingdom vision – a kingdom that is already (Christ has begun his reign) but not yet (Christ’s reign in not yet universally acknowledged). Some among us pour out our lives in social ministry in the name of compassion and human dignity but not in the name of Christ crucified; these must embrace Jesus’ cross – a cross that is the very essence of compassion and human dignity.

Wright is right: kingdom and cross belong together – in our hermeneutics, in our proclamation, in our lives.

Predestination and Eschatology

I believe in predestination – not at all as the Reformers conceived of it, but as scripture presents it in the cosmic, eschatological vision of the Apocalypse. I believe in predestination as seen in our Lord Jesus Christ, the Alpha and the Omega, in whom the blessed end is present from the beginning. I believe in predestination as revealed in the Lamb slain from the foundations of the world. I believe in predestination as visioned by Julian of Norwich: All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.

What does it look like, this eschatological predestination?

1 Now I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. Also there was no more sea. 2 Then I, John, saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. 3 And I heard a loud voice from heaven saying, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people. God Himself will be with them and be their God. 4 And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.”5 Then He who sat on the throne said, “Behold, I make all things new.” And He said to me, “Write, for these words are true and faithful.” 6 And He said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. I will give of the fountain of the water of life freely to him who thirsts. 7 He who overcomes shall inherit all things, and I will be his God and he shall be My son. 8 But the cowardly, unbelieving, abominable, murderers, sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars shall have their part in the lake which burns with fire and brimstone, which is the second death” (Rev 21:1-8, NKJV).

It looks like the consummation of all things in Christ Jesus, the renewal of all things in him according to the foreknowledge and will of God. It looks like the free choice of all men honored by God: the water of life granted to those who thirsted for it and the lake of fire bequeathed to those who refused to turn from it. It looks like the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven – a kingdom come in answer to the prayer Jesus taught us and made us bold to pray.

1 And he showed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding from the throne of God and of the Lamb. 2 In the middle of its street, and on either side of the river, was the tree of life, which bore twelve fruits, each tree yielding its fruit every month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. 3 And there shall be no more curse, but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it, and His servants shall serve Him. 4 They shall see His face, and His name shall be on their foreheads. 5 There shall be no night there: They need no lamp nor light of the sun, for the Lord God gives them light. And they shall reign forever and ever (Rev 22:1-5, NKJV).

It looks like life and healing and purity and worship and light – the light of the glory of God in the face of Jesus, a light penetrating and transforming and finally shining from the righteous, the sons and daughters of men made sons and daughters of God. It looks like blessing.

14 Blessed are those who do His commandments, that they may have the right to the tree of life, and may enter through the gates into the city. 15 But outside are dogs and sorcerers and sexually immoral and murderers and idolaters, and whoever loves and practices a lie (Rev 22:14-15, NKJV).

It looks like – and this is where I must depart from the Reformers – invitation, not for some, but for all.

17 And the Spirit and the bride say, “Come!” And let him who hears say, “Come!” And let him who thirsts come. Whoever desires, let him take the water of life freely (Rev 22:17, NKJV).

This is the great predestination of God: that in his abundant mercy he determined from before the beginning of creation the glorious end of creation and determined to make available to all who freely come to him, freely the water of life.

So, I believe in predestination: that our sovereign God, by his sovereign choice made from before all creation, will put all things to rights, for our God is righteous; that our merciful Savior, slain from the foundations of the world, offers light and life to all men, for our God is gracious and the lover of mankind.

Our God, who spoke the first word of creation, speaks also the first word of new creation: a word predestined in the gracious will of God.

20 He who testifies to these things says, “Surely I am coming quickly.” Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus! 21 The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen (Rev 22:20-21, NKJV).

Reflection: Eschatology and Catastrophe

I stood at the graveside of a good woman recently and watched her husband of sixty-two years grieve the loss of his better-half, the “brains of the operation” he called her. At the memorial service the evening before, family and friends told stories about her past and about the lasting impact she has made on those going forward into a future without her. And the minister spoke true and comforting words:

Jesus said, I am the resurrection and I am life.
Those who believe in me, even though they die, yet shall they live,
and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die.
I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end,
the first and the last.
I died, and behold I am alive for evermore,
and I hold the keys of hell and death.
Because I live, you shall live also .

I like what The United Methodist Book of Worship calls the whole constellation of public events surrounding a Christian death: Services of Death and Resurrection. Indeed. It is not only at such services, but perhaps best there, that we are shaken from our myopic focus on the present – the clamor of the daily – and grasp again the fundamental and essentially eschatological nature of our faith. Our faith is a storied faith and we are a storied people: rooted in the past, sojourning in the present, and hoping in and heading toward a glorious future. It was not for nothing that Jesus described himself to John – exiled in the present – as the past and future One:

“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End,” says the Lord, “who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty” (Rev 1:8, NKJV).

And while the present is an essential part of the story, it is, after all, only part of the story; so, Paul reminds us: “If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men the most pitiable” (1 Cor 15:19, NKJV).

The eschatological understanding of our faith – the wrapping up of all things past and present in Jesus, all heading toward future fulfillment in him in the last day (eschaton) – is the antidote for both the unbridled optimism and the abject despair that plague our culture in about equal proportions. It takes only a catastrophe – either personal, as a death, or corporate, as a terrorist attack or an oil spill, to reveal these spiritual follies. In the days immediately following such a disaster, the Optimists often rule with their grandiose plans and their assurances of success.

Optimism is a way of staying useful and being hopeful without having recourse to God. It requires, of course, a much reduced perception of catastrophe if it is to maintain credibility. Optimism comes in two forms, moral and technological. The moral optimist thinks that generous applications of well-intentioned goodwill to the slagheaps of injustice, wickedness, and the world’s corruption will put the world gradually, but surely, in the right. The technological optimist thinks that by vigorously applying scientific intelligence to the problems of poverty, pollution, and neurosis, the world will gradually, but surely, be put right. Neither form of optimism worships God, although the moral optimist sometimes provides ceremonial space for him. Optimists see that there are few things left to do to get the world in good shape, and think that they are just the ones to do it (Eugene Peterson, Reversed Thunder: The Revelation of John and the Praying Imagination).

Should the problem be less than amenable to the Optimists’ solutions, should it drag on interminably, then the Pessimists arise with dire predictions and a pervading sense of hopelessness.

In such a moment let the faithful of God come, those who inhabit the Story, those who are caught up in the eschatological vision of God. Let them come proclaiming the sure end of the Story: a world put to rights, all creation restored and renewed, the holy people of God in worship before him, the holy city – New Jerusalem – come down from heaven to earth with God dwelling in the midst of his people unto the ages of ages. In short, salvation. The holy, eschatological people of God must waste no time with optimism or pessimism; we must be the true realists who face every blessing or catastrophe with the same proclamation: Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed. And because his is risen, we, too, shall rise, and all things shall be made new.

Admittedly, this vision dims from time to time. It is difficult to maintain, in spite of apparently copious evidence to the contrary, that God is even now brooding over the often dark and void face of the earth, renewing the earth and its people, speaking new creation into being through Christ and with Christ and in Christ in the unity of the Holy Spirit. Yet, it is so. The church is, and must be, the evidence we offer for such a vision: a people being made new and whole; a people singing the eschatological hymn – Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, Who was and is and is to come! – and giving voice to all creation; a people feasting on the eschatological banquet of bread and wine and inviting all to the table:

And the Spirit and the bride say, “Come!” And let him who hears say, “Come!” And let him who thirsts come. Whoever desires, let him take the water of life freely (Rev 22:17, NKJV).

Let the church hold fast the eschatological promise of its Lord: “Surely I am coming quickly.” And let the church answer with its eschatological prayer: “Even so, come, Lord Jesus!”

Amen.

Reflection: The Ascension of Our Lord

Ascension and Eschatology

The feast of the Ascension of Our Lord is the much-needed, annual reminder that the church is – by nature and vocation – an eschatological community. His ascension into glory at the right hand of the Father marks the beginning of our Lord’s reign over all creation. But, it is a reign that becomes apparent only in the eschaton, only on that last great day when the trumpet sounds and the dead in Christ arise to be forever with the Lord. In the meantime, the nations rage, the peoples mutter empty threats, the kings of the earth rise up in revolt, and the princes plot together against the Lord and against his Anointed (cf Ps 2). But, in the midst of all this, the church is that one community called and blessed to live out the eschatological reality of the reign of Christ in the present moment. The church brings the last days forward into the present when it is the church, when it lives under the reign of Christ, when it shows forth God’s will on earth as in heaven. The church is an eschatological community or it is nothing at all. So the Ascension of our Lord reminds us.

Almighty God, whose blessed Son our Savior Jesus Christ ascended far above all heavens that he might fill all things: Mercifully give us faith to perceive that, according to his promise, he abides with his Church on earth, even to the end of the ages; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.