Week 3: Inaugurated Eschatology

Two weeks ago I talked about the painful experience of a family who had lost their child. We have all experienced suffering. Perhaps the most painful for our family was the prenatal diagnosis of our granddaughter Luna. Luna has a rare heart defect—a single ventricle heart. Left untreated it is 100% fatal. Through prayer and the skilled surgeons at Children’s Hospital LA she was able to survive and thrive—but it took three open heart surgeries, beginning on her second day of life. Along the way we met other parents of single ventricle children—including some who not as fortunate.

         In times of inexplicable suffering, questions abound. Part of the struggle has to do with the apparent randomness of it all—why one person is healed and another was not. My community was just struck by the devastating Eaton fire which virtually demolished the city of Altadena. Block after block of homes reduced to ashes—and then, inexplicably, one home left untouched. Why are some prayers answered and others are not?

The “why” questions

         The New Testament begins with the story of Jesus’ birth. Then in Matt. 2 we have the familiar story of three magi astrologers who come to visit the infant Jesus. This is a story we love to have children act out wearing paper crowns and bathrobes, carrying gift wrapped boxes. But when there are children present, we don’t like to go too far into the story, because the story takes a dark turn at v. 13.

         King Herod is visited by the magi, seeking the new King of Israel. But this isn’t good news for the old King of Israel. So Herod asks where this infant king can be found—supposedly to show his respects, but in fact to eliminate his rival. And when he can’t find the infant king the text tells us he was furious and gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem who were two years old and under. The text speaks of mothers weeping with a grief that will not be comforted.

         This is the world into which Jesus was born—a world with powerful and evil kings, willing to sacrifice toddlers in order to hold power. A world where we continue to ask: Why does God seem so absent? Are they even listening when we cry out? Are they uninterested or unable to care? Why are some prayers answered and others met with silence? And behind those questions is an even deeper question: Can we really trust God?

         Last week we explored the various explanations Christians have tried out to answer these question, including prosperity gospel, the notion that blessings are a reward for obedience and suffering is a punishment for sin. Jesus’ rejects this pat answer in John 9:1-3: His disciples asked, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus.

         We also saw last week that Augustine answers the question of God’s silence in the face of suffering with mystery. But the problem with the "mystery" answer is it tends to leave us with a distant, aloof God.

John asks an awkward question (Luke 7:17-22)

         This tension between answered and unanswered prayer is the background to Luke 7:17ff. The chapter begins with stories of the miraculous healings Jesus had performed. Then, beginning in vs. 17, Jesus’ cousin, John the Baptist hears of this and sends his messengers to ask Jesus: “are you the one to come or should we expect someone else?”

         Jesus’ response is recorded in Luke 17:22:

“So he replied to the messengers,“Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor.”

         This response echoes Isaiah 61:1-2, a prophesy of the One who would usher in the Kingdom of God. It is also the passage Jesus reads as his “mission statement” at the very beginning of his ministry:

         The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.

         He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

         and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor

         It’s helpful here to note that throughout the gospel of John the Evangelist, the miracles of Jesus are called "signs.” They aren’t just really cool supernatural events or blessings, wonders or magical tricks. They are signs—they point us to something.

         John the Baptist has correctly identified what that something is—the coming Kingdom. Jesus’ miracles are signs—clues—about what the coming Kingdom will be like.

         John rightly understood from Isaiah 61 that the Kingdom of God would come not only in heaven or some otherworldly spiritual dimension, but here, on earth. He rightly understood the Kingdom would be marked by healing, restoration, and freedom. With setting right all that seems so wrong in our world

         But John’s question in Luke 7 is not an idle theological inquiry. John sent his disciples to ask the question because he can’t do so himself. He’s in prison for his faith, about to be brutally and callously executed. He has heard of Jesus’ acts of grace on behalf of the sick and the poor—signs of the Kingdom. So why is he still in prison? Why haven’t John’s prayers been answered?

         How would you answer John? Open theists might say that John's error was not in expecting to see tangible signs of the Kingdom. He rightly understands from Is. 61 that the Kingdom will be marked by healing and justice. Rather, his error was in expecting to see everything set right all at once.

Three views of the future

         We live in a curious time, which the Bible refers to as two eras. One is what the Bible calls “this world”—the world ruled by sin, but also the darkness of death and disease and injustice. The world in evidence in ICUs and refugee camps, in Ukraine, Congo, and Gaza.

         But the Bible also refers to “the age to come”—the Kingdom of God—when all will be set right. When things will be done “on earth as it is in heaven.”

         This is a question of eschatology—the study of end times or the end of history. In many worldviews time is cyclical, but the Judeo-Christian worldview is that time is linear. It is heading somewhere; there is an end, when God triumphs over evil.

         But this is more than just an academic question. Because what we believe about the future determines how we live in the present. 

         There are three primary ways Christians look at the future—all of which influence and determine the way we live in the present.

         The first view is that the Kingdom of God is entirely in the future—we’re still waiting. And some of Jesus’ teachings fit this because sometimes Jesus will talk about the Kingdom of God in the future tense, e.g. Matt 25:31: when the Son of Man comes in his glory—then he will sit upon his glorious throne.

            We see this view among some Christians today. Who believe we're still living in an era of darkness and suffering, under the shadow of death. They believe the world will inevitably go from very bad to much, much worse. Maybe a lot of us feel that way right now when things seem bad. But this group hold as a doctrinal precept that the secular world outside their sanctuaries is inevitably, hopelessly wicked. It views the outside world with suspicion and prejudice, with no hope of redemption.

         They believe that Christians are helpless to stop this. We must simply wait for Jesus' return. You can see how this undermines any resistance to evil or injustice. It

makes the Church into nothing more than a bomb shelter, a place to hide until the apocalypse is over.

         The second view of the future is that the Kingdom of God is already here. Because while Jesus sometimes talks about the Kingdom in the future tense, other times he uses the present tense, e.g. Luke 17:20-21, The Pharisees asked Jesus, “When will the Kingdom of God come?” Jesus replied, “…the Kingdom of God is [already] among you.”

         In this view the second coming of Jesus is identical to the first—it’s already taken place. We're not waiting for anything new.

         This can be an attractive view because it’s so optimistic, especially compared to the fear and paranoia of the first view. We're not living in a horrible, chaotic world, but a peaceful world full of optimism and justice. This was the view in the comfortable, liberal white suburban church I grew up in.

         It’s a very attractive view—but pretty impossible to hold very long, because, as I think we’re seeing, there’s just too much evidence that’s not the case. It’s all too painfully apparent we're not living in a world where all has been set right—far from it. This view asks us to look away from suffering and pretend it doesn't exist. When that becomes impossible it leads to cynicism and bitterness.

Now and not yet

         The final view of the future is called Inaugurated eschatology: the view that the Kingdom of God has begun—or been inaugurated—but is not yet complete. Much like a presidential inauguration where their term—their presidency—has begun. But they're not finished (as scary as that might be right now).

         What the Bible calls “this age”—the world of brokenness, injustice, and suffering—is still with us. But through the incarnation of Jesus the future Kingdom of God has broken into human history. Because Jesus has come, his Kingdom is inaugurated—it has begun. The power of the Spirit is present and active. But the complete fulfillment—the reign of God—will come when Jesus returns.

         And so we say the Kingdom is both now and not yet.

         I think this position is the most consistent with what see in Bible—but also the most consistent with what see in our world. Rather than the futility and pessimism of the first view of the future, or the denial of suffering in the second, this view looks to the future with hope. This is what we are praying for in the Lord’s prayer when we ask, “thy Kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as in heaven.” We are praying in hope, praying for Jesus to come and set things right. How we long for that!

         I believe this is the best answer to John’s question. Jesus' healings then—and now—are signs of the Kingdom. In a time when the Kingdom is both now and not yet, we should expect to see signs of both kingdoms. Because the Kingdom is not yet we see suffering, division, and violence. We see injustice.

         But because the Kingdom is now, is present, we also see healing, reconciliation, renewal, and transformation. We see life.

Key points of Open Theism:

The last two weeks we looked at these key points about Open Theism:

1. Not everything that happens in the world was chosen or directed by God. The future is open to many possibilities.

2. God can make promises about the future because they know what they intend to do.

3. The central, defining characteristic of God is love. We were created IN love, FOR love. But love must be chosen. So God chose to create humans uniquely free.

4. In order to make room for human freedom, God’s omnipotence & omniscience must be limited. If God overrides our free choices, then we were never really free.

5. God is not controlling—God does not coerce or impose their will on the world.

Now we can add two more:

6. God is in time, as we are in time, dwelling with us and relating to us.

7. God is moved by what happens in the world and responds accordingly.

Our response

         Unanswered prayer or lack of healing is not a sign of lack of faith or hidden sin. It is not a sign of God’s indifference or inability.

            Unanswered prayer and suffering is a sign the kingdom is not yet—that things are not all as they should be. And that should cause us to pray more, not less. That should cause us to pray as Jesus taught: “may your Kingdom come, on earth as in heaven.”

         And it should cause us to pray with our feet. To pray in courageous and purposeful action, as, in the power of the Holy Spirit, we come against all that is not right. We come against injustice and hatred and oppression, and work with Christ toward peace, healing, and reconciliation.

         Come, Lord Jesus, come.        

Living God, We have questions. Questions about suffering and about your goodness. Sometimes we might even wonder if you are there or if you are listening. We wonder if you care about war and hunger and violence. We wonder where you are.

         But we will keep on praying and asking because we have nowhere else to go.

         So come, Lord Jesus, come. Equip us with courage as your servants, and wisdom to know our next most faithful step. May your Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven—driving out fear, hatred, alienation and injustice forever.

         In the name and power of Christ, Amen.

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Week 4: The Hidden Realm

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Week 2: Emptying