Sin is so frequently misunderstood that among Christians there are a myriad of perspectives on what it is and how it affects both us and the world around us. This should surprise us, though, because the Bible is rather clear on the fact that sin is the result of humanity's wilful rebellion against God and affects the entirety of God's creation. Christopher J.H. Wright, in a chapter on the biblical paradigms of redemption in Transforming the World? writes of the scope of sin:
It is clear that the Bible offers us a very radical assessment of the effects of our willful rebellion and fall into disobedience, self-centredness and sin. It is not just that every dimension of the human person is affected by sin. It is not just that every human person is a sinner. It is also the case that the totality of our social and economic relationships with each other, horizontally and historically, and of our ecological relationship to the earth itself have all been perverted and twisted.
Underlying this perspective is the understanding that the totality of created reality is originally good, and sin has perverted that goodness. Albert Wolters, in his book, Creation Regained, describes sin as a parasite, which is something entirely different and alien to the creation, but leeches on to it at every point, distorting it and masking the original goodness. Without this understanding, it is very easy for Christians to fall into the trap of viewing some parts of creation as good but affected by sin, and others as neutral or even inherently sinful. This most commonly works itself out in the 'sacred/secular' dichotomy, which elevates our spiritual life above the rest of our daily existence.
But as God is committed to the whole of his creation, promising to liberate it from sin, so should we be committed to bearing witness to the redemption that comes through Jesus Christ in every part of our creaturely existence. A war is being waged between Christ and Satan for the totality of creation, and at every point we insist that something is insignificant or inherently sinful and deny its original created goodness, we yield to Satan. We must instead fight on the side of Christ, working to demonstrate his rule as the true King over all of creation.
We will begin, then, with the creation of the world and with God its maker, for the first fact that you must grasp is this: the renewal of creation has been wrought by the self-same Word, who made it in the beginning. There is thus no inconsistency between creation and salvation; for the Father has employed the same agent for both works, effecting the salvation of the world through the same Word who made it first.
Following yesterday's post, I have been thinking more about VanGemeren's idea of creation and consecration as he lays it out in his book, The Progress of Redemption. Over on Facebook, Jon Swales helpfully pointed out that Eden, as a temple, was consecrated. It does seem to follow that, since the presence of God was there in a very real way, Eden was a holy place.
What's more, VanGemeren seems to argue that since God intended creation to be something more than it was at the beginning, consecration would come when it reached that fulfilment. There is a problem here, however, because he argues at the same time that the Sabbath was consecrated. Yet, the Sabbath instituted at creation is also just a foretaste of the eschatological eternal Sabbath (Hebrews 4:9).
In his book, The Progress of Redemption: The Story of Salvation from Creation to the New Jerusalem, Old Testament scholar Willem VanGemeren notes that the creation still waits to be consecrated. Upon finishing his work of creation, God declares everything to be very good, but he only consecrates the Sabbath day. Thus, though creation is very good in God's sight, it is not perfect in its original state and anticipates a move toward perfection.
For VanGemeren, creation has both a christological and an eschatological focus. He writes, 'Creation anticipates a telos, or end. The God who freely, graciously, and powerfully rules creation has a goal: the new creation in his Son Jesus Christ' (62). Right from the start, God has in mind the history of redemption culminating in the restoration and perfection (consecration) of creation, achieved through the incarnation and resurrection of Christ. Interestingly, VanGemeren observes that with the fall into sin, the consecration of creation moved from being a possibility to a necessity. I am not sure what he understands by the possibility of consecration, especially if he sees the work of Christ in consecrating creation as something planned from the beginning. But certainly the necessity is there – what has been corrupted by sin must be rescued and redeemed, or 'put to rights', to borrow a phrase from N.T. Wright.
With the promise of the consecration of creation, God's people are given the responsibility of bearing witness to the future eschatological fulfillment of that promise. '[Israel] had received a foretaste of the promises of God in their special status as a covenant people and were guaranteed a greater restoration in the Promised Land' (61). The prophets later point forward 'to the restoration of all things in the messianic age' (62), which Jesus demonstrates in a powerful way during his life on earth. At his ascension, he promises the Holy Spirit, who will guide his people in bearing witness to his coming Kingdom (Acts 1:8). We don't just wait in hope for that which is to come, but we eagerly anticipate the consecration of creation. By living in fidelity to God's rule and proclaiming the gospel of the Kingdom, we offer a foretaste of what is to come.
From VanGemeren's perspective, then,
the Garden of Eden is a prototype of the world planned by God – the world of restoration. The history of redemption, therefore, does not begin with a high point only to end up with the new earth as an equally high point. The new creation is better than the first because it will be perfect, holy, and characterized by the presence of God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ (Rev. 21:22)... For that purpose, we must look upon Christ as the very purpose of God's creation. He is what Berkhof calls 'the pattern of existence for which creation is intended.' His redemptive work...was fully in view when God created the world. Creation is, therefore, the beginning, or the preamble, of the history of redemption (64).
In my first year of seminary, I was assigned a paper in which I essentially had to think about the idea of sacred space from a biblical standpoint and determine, more specifically, if this had any bearing on the architecture of church buildings. I found it to be a very interesting and challenging assignment, and though I came to no firm conclusion on the matter, I still find myself thinking about it often.
Recently, I finished reading N.T. Wright's excellent book, Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church. Wright, an outspoken champion of biblical idea that redemption extends as far as the curse is found – in contrast to many Christians who view redemption as something spiritualised and otherworldly – helpfully guides the reader through a discussion of what this holistic redemption means for space, time, and matter. Wright says the following about how the redemption of space might give us pause to think about our church buildings:
The renewal and reclaiming of space has recently involved, among other things, a fresh grasp of the Celtic tradition of 'thin places,' places where the curtain between heaven and earth seems almost transparent. This is in fact just one aspect of a much wider theology of place, which has been under serious threat in the West since the Enlightenment. We urgently need to recapture this theology before, to use an obvious metaphor, all the ancient trees are cut down to make room for a shopping centre and parking lot just when people are starting to realise how much shade those trees provide in summer, how much fruit they bear in autumn, and how beautiful they look in spring. Jesus does indeed declare that God calls all people everywhere to worship him in spirit and truth rather than limiting worship to this or that holy mountain. But this doesn't undercut a proper theology of God's reclaiming of the whole world, which is anticipated in the claiming of space for worship and prayer. Church buildings and other places...are not a retreat from the world but a bridgehead into the world, a way of claiming part of God-given space for his glory, against the day when the whole world will thrill to his praise.
It is nothing short of dualistic folly, then, simply to declare without ado...that old church buildings and the like are irrelevant to the mission of God today and tomorrow... Many are rediscovering in our day that there are indeed such things as places sanctified by long usage for prayer and worship, places where, often without being able to explain it, people of all sorts find that prayer is more natural, that God can be known and felt more readily. We should reflect long and hard on a proper theology of place and space, thought through in terms of God's promise to renew the whole creation, before we abandon geography and territory.
