This past Sunday I preached on 1 Chronicles 29:1-20, and in that passage David refers to the people of Israel as "aliens and strangers" in God's sight (v. 15). Although in that context the phrase has a different connotation than what we typically understand it to mean, this is common language in the Bible, both in the Old and New Testaments. The most common reference in the latter is probably found in Peter's letter (1 Pet. 2:11).

While I think this idea is certainly helpful for us to keep in mind (given that it is a biblical metaphor), there is also a danger in such a perspective leading to an eschatology shaped by escapism. Indeed, many evangelicals are quick to say that we are pilgrims in this world on our way to heaven. "We're just passing through," is the common catch-phrase of those who adhere to the sentiment.

Here's the thing, though – in one sense, we're not going anywhere. As I've said before, the history of God's redemption of his people is a pattern of God coming to us. The future of God's people is not some disembodied, ethereal existence. Our new Promised Land is "the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God" (Rev. 21:2). As Peter says, on the day of the Lord, "the earth and everything in it will be laid bare" (2 Pet. 3:10) in preparation for this Holy City.

In what sense are we aliens and strangers and pilgrims, then? One way of understanding this does tie the physical world, despite what I've just said. While this world is our home, we are aliens and strangers in it at the present time because our home has been occupied by a foreign enemy. It has become a wilderness; the presence of sin and the kingdom of darkness has obscured the inherent goodness of God's creation and made it unrecognisable. But we don't wait to escape from this wilderness. We wait instead for the Promised Land that God brings down to us after he purifies his creation from sin.

There is a spiritual element to this as well, though. We are pilgrims on a journey to a spiritual destination. Through the death and resurrection of Christ, we have new life (Rom. 6, Col. 3). By the power of the indwelling Spirit, we are given strength to put to death the old self, and to live holy and righteous lives (John 14:15-31, Rom. 8). On the day that Christ returns, we will be glorified – made like him (1 Cor. 15:51-57, Phil. 1:6).

Right now we remain in the wilderness of sin, wandering through it in the pursuit of holiness, longing and yearning for the fulness of Christ's redemption as we see sin wreak havoc in our lives and in our world. As Peter reminds us in 1 Peter 2:11, we need remember who we are so that we do not fall into sin and allow ourselves to be comfortable in this occupying kingdom. Instead, we follow the lead of our God towards that day when he fulfils his promise to forgive our wickedness and remember our sins no more (Jer. 31:34), and to wipe every tear from our eyes. "There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away" (Rev. 21:4).

The Promised Land that awaits us is God's good creation restored and glorified, a place where his people will dwell in his presence forever and where they, having been glorified, will be free from sin and flourish as they live the life that he intends for his people.

That's a Promised Land to look forward to. That's a pilgrimage worth making.

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).

Do any of you have further thoughts about this?

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).

Thoughts?

Former RTS Orlando student, former employee at my current favorite bookstore, and current adjunct professor of theology at the New York City campus of Nyack College, Joseph Torres, discusses what he calls a wider vision of eschatology in his most recent post. In evangelical circles, it is common to link the discussion of eschatology with what events will transpire at the end of history—the rapture, the tribulation, the thousand-year reign, and so on. But, Joseph suggests broadening our discussion:

Protology is the study of “first things,” and explores what I call seedbed for a multiplicity of themes are developed and expanded throughout the rest of the story told in the Bible. Just a few of these would include the seed of the woman, the people of God, human dominion over the earth, sin, judgment, and the Word of God, to name a few. Eschatology, in the expanded definition, is the study of where these developing themes “end up.” What’s the final goal of these themes? That’s what eschatology studies. It’s more than merely about the debates over the timing of the return of Christ (though, of course, it’s not less than these debates).

A helpful corrective, I think. Broadening our perspective in this way, Joseph argues, helps to cultivate a biblically-informed philosophy of history and plays a significant role in shaping our worldview.

What do you think? How will our perspective change if we consider where history is going as opposed to what happens when history ends?

If we understand the Sabbath to be a creation ordinance (Gen. 2:2-3) rather than a Mosaic ordinance (Ex. 20:8-11), and also understand it to be the destiny of man (that is, our eschatological rest, as per Heb. 3:7-4:13), then the implications of what it means to observe that day should be relatively clear.

I emphasize should. I am still confused. More to follow. I know I said I'd leave the issue to rest, but I can't.

Perhaps I give this far too much thought. But, I really dislike winter.

I maintain, along with C.S. Lewis, that winter---that is, winter within small parts of Group C and all of Group D and E of the Köppen climate classification---is a result of the Fall. Lewis' Narnia, of course, during the rule of the White Witch and prior to Aslan's sacrificial act, serves as an example of a world in the grips of the distortions of sin. Only through the salvation he brings is the creation returned to its original state. Lewis' connection of winter with evil is not only his perspective; such a view is also maintained in Norse mythology in the period of Fimbulwinter.

When Christ returns to renew the creation (Rom. 8:20-22), winter will cease to exist. For, a world free of death, pain, and suffering (Rev. 21:4) cannot include a season that causes such things. The Genesis record does not mention the original climate in creation, but the natural state of Adam and Eve (Gen. 2:25) in the garden indicates that winter would have caused them suffering, thus negating the paradisaical nature of the original creation. As the Garden of Eden prefigures the new earth, we can expect that new earth to be characterized by a perfect level of physical comfort when Christ establishes his Kingdom for eternity at his second coming.

Nevertheless, God reveals his goodness amidst the ugliness of this sin-distorted world, even in the harshness of winter. When a fresh blanket of soft white snow covers the ground, before the pollutants in the air and the salt and grime of the roads defile it, we are reminded of our redemption through the atoning work of Christ that washes away our sin (Ps. 51:7). Also, it reminds us of the good nature of our God, as the symbolical nature of his appearance is described in Scripture (cf. Matt. 28:3, and Rev. 1:14).

Of course, all the unnatural climates of the world can be attributed to the grip of sin on creation. However, if Dante's metaphorical circles of hell, arranged concentrically with a gradual increase in wickedness, are any indication, then the culmination of wickedness found in the ninth circle demonstrate that the greatest degree of sin is found in the frigid and frozen character of winter.

Interesting discussion today in class on the fourth commandment of the Decalogue. We began by talking about the nature of the Sabbath. D.A. Carson argues that the Sabbath was abrogated with Christ’s fulfillment of the law, and we now have the Lord’s Day, which he distinguishes as different. He is contrasted by the former Princeton theologian Charles Hodge, who maintained that while the day is different, the Sabbath remains. Carson says that as we are on the other side of the crux of redemptive history (Christ’s death and resurrection), we must now view it in a different light.

This is where it gets interesting. Some say that as we live in the already/not yet mentality---that is, in this stage of the coming of the Kingdom where it has been established by Christ, but not yet consummated by his second coming---we need to view the Lord’s Day in this manner as well. The rest that we observe on the Lord’s Day is a foretaste of the eternal rest that we will have when the Kingdom comes in fullness. As such, we should not require unbelievers to observe the Sabbath. Thus, if they want to have their stores and restaurants open on Sunday, if they want to work on Sunday, let them do so.

That is a peculiar line of thought to me, and one that I have not come into contact with up until now. As I've understood it (according to Calvin's threefold division of the law), all people are bound to the moral law, due to the fact that we are in covenant with God. The Sabbath, though a creation ordinance like marriage and work, is distinguished by the fact that it is eschatological in nature. So it is reserved for believers only.

I'll have one more post on this for sure, maybe more. But for now, any thoughts on this? Is this a new understanding for you?