And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.

//I write so often about “eschatology” that I often forget it’s a big, confusing word that most people write off to the world of Bible scholarship. In my upcoming book about John’s Gospel, I define eschatology straightforwardly:

The doctrine of the last or final things, as death, judgment, and the events therewith connected.

But I actually prefer this practical definition by scholar N. T. Wright:

If there is one god, and you are his one people, but you are currently suffering oppression, you must believe that the present state of affairs is temporary. Monotheism and election thus give birth to (what I call) eschatology: the belief that history is going somewhere, that something will happen through which everything will be put right.*

Our Bible abounds in eschatological thinking. Simply turn to any passage that deals with the suffering of the Jewish nation, Old Testament or New, and you find there a promise of better things to come. Wright’s observation is brilliant: eschatological thinking is the belief that history is going somewhere.

Prophets, apologists, and followers have expressed views for 3,000 years about just where history is going, but nearly all agree that something will happen to set things right. Maybe a New Jerusalem will float down from heaven and replace the old (today’s verse in Revelation). Maybe the good guys will float up to heaven and find a new city waiting there. Or, maybe we’ll figure out that our future is in our own hands, and go to work with what we have, to make it better.

Whatever our beliefs about what is to come, there is a question that we must ask ourselves. Are Christians called to participate in the inauguration of the new age, what Jesus called the Kingdom of Heaven? Is Christianity an active or a passive belief system?

Your choice.

*The Meaning of Jesus, c. 1999, p. 32

Not a new book, but since I’ve recently received a couple more to read along this topic, I dug this one out and scanned through it as a reminder.

It’s typical Pagels, opinionated and controversial, but thought-provoking. I love Pagels’ work!

You’ll read a little about the evolution of ideas regarding Satan, but this is really not the book’s focus. Her premise is that Satan evolved over time for a reason, and that reason was to demonize one’s enemies—primarily the enemies of the Christians. No, not ancient Israel; Pagels spends almost the entire book within the context of the New Testament—an appropriate focus, since in the Old Testament Satan is more of an Adversary under God’s employ. By the time of the New Testament, though, Satan has morphed into the Prince of Darkness, the leader of all that is evil in a cosmic battle against good…a battle that found the Christians caught in the middle. Satan is the natural evolution of an us-versus-them atmosphere in the arena of religion.

Like Pagels, I find the war of 70 CE, when the Temple was destroyed and Jerusalem leveled, more than just a little important to understanding the development of Christianity. (In fact, I tend to go a bit overboard on this theme in my books). But Satan isn’t allied only with the Romans; he also takes the side of the Pharisees (read: Rabbinic Judaism), Herod, and pagans everywhere. Finally, in later Christian writings, Satan manages to seduce even Christians, and the war turns against heretics.

Fun book, and a different take from what the title may make you think.

Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven?

They were stoned; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated—

//Today’s verse talks about the treatment of the Old Testament faithful. One person, it says, was sawed in two! Any idea who this talks about?

Most scholars believe this refers to an apocryphal book titled The Martyrdom of Isaiah. The Bible says nothing about how Isaiah died, but in this account, Isaiah prophesies his own death being sawed in two, and it comes to pass.

As the story goes, a man named Belchlra accuses Isaiah of false prophecy before King Manasseh, saying:

‘Isaiah and those who are with him prophesy against Jerusalem and against the cities of Judah that they shall be laid waste and (against the children of Judah and) Benjamin also that they shall go into captivity, and also against thee, O lord the king, that thou shalt go (bound) with hooks and iron chains.’

Of course, Isaiah’s prophecy wasn’t false; it turned out to be the truth. Belchlra also said about Isaiah:

And Isaiah himself hath said: ‘I see more than Moses the prophet.’ But Moses said: ‘No man can see God and live': and Isaiah hath said: ‘I have seen God and behold I live.’ Know, therefore, O king, that he is lying.

The words of Belchilra convinced Manasseh, and …

he sent and seized Isaiah. And he sawed him asunder with a wood-saw. And when Isaiah was being sawn in sunder Balchlra stood up, accusing him, and all the false prophets stood up, laughing and rejoicing because of Isaiah. 

★★★★

First, a note about what Greenham means by “the questioning God.” He doesn’t mean God wonders about the truth; he means God engages us with questions, forcing us to think for ourselves. God asks Adam and Eve, “Where are you?” He asks Abraham, “Can you number the stars?” He asks Moses, “Who has made man’s mouth?” He asks Job, “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?”

Given that God is a questioning God, and that we are made in the image of God, Greenham encourages us to freely question as well. God would expect no less. God’s basic desire is expressed in this sentence: “I will be their God and they will be my people.” However, as individuals turn to God and become his people, it should not be a case of blind acceptance.

Greenham examines the three primary monotheistic religions, concluding that Islam discourages questioning while Judaism liberally encourages it. But there’s such a thing as questioning too much. Some questions don’t engage us with God, but dismiss him instead. The proper balance (and proper Christianity) seems to fall somewhere in the middle.

An example of how Christians should feel free to question: Consider George W. Bush’s invasion of Iraq. Christian leaders everywhere opposed Bush’s invasion plans, but their voices were drowned in a tide of patriotic endorsement.  Few considered the nearly one million Christians living in Iraq. Nobody asked them what we should do. Consequently, one of the greatest catastrophes following the 2003 invasion was the loss of over half of that country’s Christian population.

Self-questioning (removing the “logs” from our eyes) is “penetrating and devastating. It is no less demanding than questioning the basis of Islam for a Muslim, or considering Jesus as Messiah for a Jew.” But Greenham does have his boundaries! It’s apparently fine for Muslims to doubt Islam, and for Jews to contemplate the possibility of Jesus as Messiah, but Greenham stops short of encouraging us to question the Christian Bible. I believe his stance is summed up by this quote:

“I tell people I teach in church and seminary setting not to believe me because I have a Ph.D., but only if they’re convinced that my teaching is biblical.”

But then, much later, Job’s children are discovered alive. Or at least this verse hints they still live:

Job 19:17, My breath is offensive to my wife, And I am repulsive to the children of my own body (NKJV).

//This is it, guys and gals. The empty tomb is the reason there are over 2 billion Christians in the world. Something very special happened on this day.