Entering the Millennium on Christian Time
Carol Zaleski


"Are we there yet?" my son Andy cries just as we are pulling out of the driveway. "Are we there yet?" when we drive up to the McDonald's take-away window. "Are we there yet?" when we stop at a traffic light. No, not yet. Unable to grasp any estimate I might give him (is an hour short? is a day long?), he fusses, then falls asleep, only to wake up surprised upon our arrival.

"Is it morning yet?" I hear Andy call out from his bedroom. I check the clock: 3:00 a.m. "No," I say, "it's still sleep time." He takes my word for it and goes back to sleep. Are we there yet? I have to admit that, whether for want of imagination or want of nerve, I have always had some difficulty with the doctrine of the Second Coming. When the "four last things" (death, judgment, hell, and heaven) are proposed for meditation, my tendency is to focus on personal eschatology: What happens when we die? What can we hope? Where are the dead? Can the dead on whom God's mercy rests have a share in the "life of the world to come"?

Some biblical scholars and theologians have argued that the idea of personal immortality was smuggled into Jewish and Christian thought from Greek philosophy, that it is incompatible with biblical realism about death (our name Adam, after all, means "dust"), and that it renders superfluous the promise of resurrection. Yet social surveys show that the vast majority of Americans believe and hope that their own dead kin and friends live on, fully conscious and alive, in a heavenly realm. The bestseller status of books on near-death experience attests to a widespread preoccupation with the afterlife, undeterred by critics who argue that it is a symptom of a narcissistic culture that prefers eternal longevity to eternal life, expects reward without judgment, and dreams of heaven without taking thought for hell.

What is the proper theological and pastoral response to this striking divergence of views? Surely not to suppress belief in immortality ? there are enough forces already working to destroy hope. More fruitful would be to reclaim the full Christian teaching in which belief in personal immortality is folded into and dependent upon the proclamation of Christ's sacrificial death, resurrection, ascension, and parousia.

The religions of the world present us with instructive analogues to Christian eschatology; but if such analogies are pressed too far, we may be left with misreadings of the distinctive Christian hope. One thinks of the Bhagavad Gita's searing vision of Krishna: "I am the source of the universe, just as I am its dissolution. . . . As an eon ends, all creatures fold into my nature, Arjuna; and I create them again as a new eon begins" (The Bhagavad-Gita, tr. Barbara Stoler Miller [New York: Bantam Books, 1986] 7: 6, 9:7). There is no telos to the periodic destruction of old and production of new eons, just as there is no lasting fulfillment to be found in the cycle of rebirth; the highest aspiration is to follow a path of self-discipline and devotion leading to union with the infinite spirit, beyond all worlds and all times. It is a profound and incomparable teaching; but it is not the same as the Christian path, which takes refuge in Christ and awaits his final reign over the new heaven and new earth.

And there is much to unlearn in our habitual ways of thinking about the tribulations that are expected to precede Christ's reign. In the popular imagination, Antichrist is another name for Satan and the last battle has the aspect of a superhero comic book. Here is ample inducement to paranoia - which may be the Antichrist's way of having a bit of fun with us. Belief in the Antichrist is safer deployed at a distance. Hitler and Stalin surely were types of the Antichrist; but who is to say whether the Antichrist of the last days will be so obvious? In R. H. Benson's novel The Lord of the World and V. Solovyov's Short Story of the Antichrist he is a bringer of universal peace.

In any case, the classical Christian view is that we have been living in the end time for the past two thousand years, the end time Christ announced when he read from the Torah at his synagogue in Nazareth, saying of Isaiah's proclamation of the jubilee year of the Lord's favor, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing" (Luke 4:21). While recent interpreters of the historical Jesus may quarrel over whether he was a Cynic philosopher or an apocalyptic prophet, classical Christianity settles for neither of these partial views, making the much more dramatic claim that Christ himself is the Alpha of creation and the Omega of end times. He taught wisdom like a Cynic philosopher because he was Wisdom. He proclaimed the imminent end of the saeculum because it did in fact end with him when by his death and resurrection he overcame the rule of sin and death. As icons of the harrowing of hell suggest, the general resurrection is already in progress, the jaws of death are broken, graves are being emptied, the new heaven and new earth have already begun to be realized.

If genuine Christianity consists, as Kierkegaard says, in being "contemporaneous with Christ," chronological location is beside the point. We are in Andy's position: uncertain whether it is morning or night, we have to live on trust.

[copyright 2000 Christian Century Foundation. Abridged from The Christian Century, 5-12 January.]

Zaleski article excerpted from:
http://www.tandtclark.co.uk/tp_journals/cfc_bulletin/index.html
Faith & Culture Bulletin 7, Easter 2000
Click HERE to see whole.

CENTRE FOR FAITH & CULTURE
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Director Stratford Caldecott Associate Directors Leonie Caldecott, Dr Gregory Glazov
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Research Fellow John Saward Artist in Residence Sr Tatiana Krouzova

19 November, 2000