I emailed Charles St-Onge (pastor of St. Mark’s Lutheran Church in Ridley Park, PA) originally because he has a link to Open Source Theology on his personal website with the tagline: ‘Desperate post-moderns trying to rediscover theology. Would be funny, if it weren’t sad.’ Since I have personally had very little interaction with mainstream opinion over the emerging or postmodern church agenda, I thought it might be interesting to hear why he considers it so misguided. He has made a number of thoughtful points in response i) to the general principle of an ‘open source theology’ and ii) to the first seven paragraphs in the suggested outline of an emerging theology. I have added my own response to his comments but I have a rather poor understanding of Lutheranism and others may want to contribute to the discussion.
Charles: Perhaps the tagline on my site is a little harsh, but your response certainly indicates that it provokes a response! I guess my first reaction would be that “open source’s” starting point is far too subjective to end up with anything other than more sectarianism and further fracturing and splintering of an already fractured and splintered Christian community. (Note, for example, the result of Thomas Campbell’s attempts to unify American Christianity.
Andrew: Your concern is entirely legitimate and I accept that a process like open source theology is bound to entail a degree of subjectivity and a risk of divisiveness. But there are a couple of things that I would say in defence of this process:
1. What you label as ‘subjectivity’ I would rather characterize as the engagement of a broad spectrum of people in a serious conversation about what it means to be Christian and church in the world. What excites me about this whole emerging church thing is that it has got people thinking again about what they believe. But this conversation is not taking place in isolation from either theological traditions or mainstream scholarship – on the contrary, it is (at least, should be) a conversation with them.
2. The divisions are there anyway. Rightly or wrongly there is considerable unhappiness with the dominant forms of evangelicalism, some of which you yourself have voiced. Perhaps we make matters worse by attempting to rethink our theology from the bottom up, but many people are looking for a way to recover confidence in their belief system, and simply repeating the old formulae is not an option for them. The problem is not so much that postmoderns believe different things as that they think differently – which is why it has become so important to rethink the basis and content of faith. In fact, this different way of thinking is arguably a force against sectarianism. Postmodern Christians are less conscious of ideological/theological boundaries, more inclined to interact with and draw upon other traditions, and perhaps crucially less confident that they have got all the answers.
Charles: Some further thoughts, based on your “Outline of An Emerging Theology”.
Andrew: I should underline the fact that this is my outline of an emerging theology. It is no more than a contribution to the conversation. Others will see things very differently. In time I may also come to see things differently. That is why it’s a conversation.
1. There will be less need to have recourse to a doctrine of inerrancy in order to safeguard Christian truth. We will develop an approach to Scripture that is both critical and committed. We will find more honest ways to manage the beliefs and ideas that determine the Christian worldview.
Charles: Traditionally, where one has started one’s theological discourse has revealed the foundations on which one wishes to build. Only later Protestants, who distanced themselves from the tradition of the church and the ancients by their cry of “sola scriptura!” have landed in this Biblicism. The church’s traditional Christ-centered hermeneutic was lost, and replaced with a “bible as guidebook/rulebook” mentality. A truly catholic faith seeks to speak of Christ first, who is revealed in Scripture to be sure, but who is the goal and author of all Scripture (see Scaer, D.P., ‘“All Theology Is Christology”: How Does Every Passage of Scripture Reveal Christ?’).
Andrew: We don’t seem to be very far apart on this one. My comment certainly presupposes a particular polemic and reflects the fact that to a large extent the emerging church phenomenon is driven by a reaction against a narrow conservative hermeneutic. I would have a problem with both the biblicist and the Christ-centred reading if I felt that they led to distortions in the reading of the text. That is not to the exclusion of a theologically determined hermeneutic; but I do think that we have sometimes preserved the authority of scripture at the expense of intellectual integrity. For an example of how a christological hermeneutic may obscure and distort the meaning of the text, have a look at these notes on Matthew’s use of the Immanuel prophecy in Isaiah.
2. The relocation of Jesus within the political-religious landscape of first century Judaism will generate a concrete and compelling narrative core for an emerging theology.
Charles: This is not the difficulty facing contemporary Christianity. The difficulty is relocating Christ within the Godhead. Nothing can be known of God apart from what is revealed in and through Christ. Contemporary Christianity, especially American Evangelicalism, has constructed a Christless theology, believing it can speak of God first and then Jesus of Nazareth second as a mere “Ultimate Guide”. The human is still left on their own. Jesus is God, and any theology that does not begin and end its words and praise with that phrase cannot be considered Christian.
Andrew: I would suggest that both tasks are necessary. I do not think we understand God better by misunderstanding the identity and purpose of the human Jesus and his relation to first-century Judaism. I appreciate your concerns about a ‘Christless theology’, but I think that in the long run we will arrive at a better grasp of the statement ‘Jesus is God’ if we take the difficult path of historical-criticism.
3. New Testament teaching about the end of the age and the ‘coming of the Son of man’ will be recentred on the period of crisis that saw the destruction of Jerusalem, the defeat of institutional Roman opposition to the church, and the emergence of an international people of God. This recentering of eschatology will have important implications not only for how we interpret heaven and hell but also for our understanding of the role of the church in the world.
Charles: Realized eschatology has come and gone and come again, and will pass away again too. The earliest martyrs, from James to Hus to modern missionaries, placed their hope in what was not yet seen (Romans 8:18-25). While seeing many of Christ’s prophecies fulfilled at the cross (the baptism with fire, the abomination that causes desolation, etc.) has its proponents, realized eschatology ultimately leads to a this-worldly socialist Gospel and cannot be reconciled to the New Testament witness. This world will hate us (John 15:19). We can’t make them like us by “being nice”. We can only proclaim Christ and search for the lost sheep still at large in the nations.
Andrew: I do not agree that an historically realized eschatology (I would rather avoid the term ‘realized eschatology’ but I don’t have a good alternative) necessarily leads to a ‘this-worldly socialist Gospel’. I think, rather, that it leads to mission – certainly with a ‘this-worldly’ orientation, but not to the exclusion of a witness to the reality of God and the need for redemption. The reading of New Testament eschatology presupposed here must obviously be decided on exegetical grounds and may in the end prove to be mistaken. But it offers a strong basis for the postmodern-Christian conviction that the missio dei entails more than saving lost sheep and herding them to heaven.
4. The ‘post-eschatological’ church will recover a sense of its place within both creation and human history. We will need to develop a corporate and individual spirituality that is both more holistic and more expansive.
Charles: Lutherans have charged the Reformed with distancing the church from both creation and human history for centuries. The Lutheran emphasis on God’s work through created, worldly means, and his meeting creation on their level as an incarnated God, has made true Lutheran spirituality more robustly holistic than that of the Protestant churches. The tacit acceptance of Calvin’s dictum that finite non est capax infinitum has relegated American Evangelicalism and generic Protestants to a non-corporeal “spiritism” (see Scaer, D.P., ‘Reformed Exegesis and Lutheran Sacraments: Worlds in Conflict’).
Andrew: I think a lot of postmodern believers would agree with you here, but it seems to me that this statement rather contradicts your previous objections to a realized eschatology. I certainly think we are looking for a ‘robustly holistic’ spirituality.
5. Salvation will be understood not as qualifying people for heaven but as incorporating those who are prepared to be disciples into a community which in all respects draws its identity and purpose from Christ as Lord. Jesus died so that not only Jews but also Gentiles might enjoy the life of the ‘age to come’, but this life is experienced now through the power of the Spirit in the context of a renewed covenant community.
Charles: Why not hold to the evangelical catholic (and Scriptural) understanding of redemption as the hoped for, but not yet completed, redemption of the whole created order of which Christ is the first-fruit? It was the denial of the “resurrection of the body” (our bodies, not necessarily Christ’s) that opened up generic Protestantism and Evangelicalism to the spiritualization of the after-life, which is the real problem it would seem you are trying to address. Sitting on clouds, eating Philly cream cheese, and all that.
Andrew: I do not deny the resurrection of the body. It seems to me, though, that much of the salvation language in the New Testament refers not to the final resurrection but to the incorporation of believers into the covenant people. The ‘age to come’ begins with the vindication of the Son of man, who receives the kingdom, and the outpouring of the eschatological Spirit. Whatever we may still look forward to, we have to take the present responsibility of the church very seriously. Christ died – and many others suffered and died in him – precisely so that the people of God might be a continuing and effective force in the world.
6. The purpose of the church is given in the covenant to Abraham: to be blessed by God, but on the basis of that to be a blessing to those outside the covenant. This purpose is fulfilled not primarily by bringing people into the covenant but by giving healing and justice and compassion to the world.
Charles: As a Christian, I believe the purpose of the church must be found in Christ! In the church, which is Christ’s body, through the Spirit’s work in preached word, in the washing of the water and Christ’s Spirit, and by the eating and drinking of Christ’s own body and blood, we who were enemies of God are being made into one unity. This church struggles and battles with principalities and powers in this world, both spirituality and in their physical manifestations, to the end that they will be with Christ in the world to come. The church is begun, sustained, and brought to fulfillment in and by Christ and is his work alone.
Andrew: Is there really a problem with formulating the purpose of the church in terms of the covenant with Abraham? Could we not say that it is precisely ‘in Christ’ that the people of God recovered its original identity and purpose? My question here is this: Is the mission of the church to be conceived solely as a matter of bringing people in, or of going out in order to bring people in? Or is there also a sense in which the very presence of the church in the world is a source of blessing to others? Do we give, love, have compassion, proclaim justice, pray, serve, only for the purpose of saving a person’s soul?
The way in which you characterize the purpose of the church is fine, but it has a defensive and embattled ring to it. Underlying it is a narrative of survival that makes good sense in situations of crisis – above all the eschatological crisis faced by Jesus’ followers. But I think it is a mistake to suppose that those conditions are universal. When the storm comes, we close the doors and windows and pray to God that we do not suffer too much damage. But our purpose is not simply to survive storms. When the storm passes, we get out and start working again. I suppose you could say that the church is going through a crisis at the moment, but in the UK at least it is a crisis not of opposition but of irrelevance.
7. A community that has a clear sense of its relationship to the one God and of its calling to serve the world, will affirm humanity’s natural instinct for God and for goodness outside the boundaries of the covenant. At the heart of the church there will always be the dynamic of forgiveness, worship and prayer. But in many respects it is what happens outside the church that will be more interesting, where the sacred and the secular overlap and become confused.
Charles: Humanity has a natural instinct for God, which it rejects, and for goodness, which it mostly rejects (Romans 1:21-25). So long as humanity (and even most so-called Christians!) insists on seeing itself as “good”, all is lost. Only when one looks to Christ for one’s only good and help can there be salvation (Matt. 19:16-30). The alternative is hypocrisy or despair.
Andrew: The problem, Charles, is that a lot of people find it very difficult to maintain that sort of perspective against the evidence of their own eyes. It is one thing to insist that we are reconciled to God solely on the basis of Christ’s atoning work; it is another to turn our backs on the world in disgust at its depravity. What the church has in Christ is a unique relationship to the Father – we are a ‘new creation’, ‘a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people’. But is that really incompatible with the desire to affirm what is naturally good and life-giving in the world?
Charles: I would urge for further reading:
Veith, G.E., The Spirituality of the
Cross
Parton, C.A., Defense Never
Rests
Various authors, The Theology of the Cross for the 21st
Century
Just, A., ‘Lutheran
worship’


Purpose of the Church
Andrew, I find it intriguing how you look to the covenant with Abraham for the purpose of the church. What is the motivating factor behind this? Is not the Church truly defined and revealed in the New Testament? Whereas God speaks and forgives currently in our world, there the true marks of the Church are to be found. While your statement of purpose is compelling, did not God establish the government for healing and justice in the world? The Lord blesses us with hospitals and police protection for the good of the body. Yet these things are a matter of civil righteousness. God purposed the Church for connecting the people of the world to Christ’s righteousness. Certainly then, since God is the author of all that is good, civil righteousness and Christ’s righteousness are compatible in their benefit to man. So a holistic church would affirm both evidences of good in the world. Yet can we not benefit from an understanding that the Church is God’s tangible source of His love for the world. Thus we offer spiritual healing and much compassion in Christ. However, we must be cautious NOT to overlap the sacred and the secular. We want to distinguish that Christian compassion is quite distinct from civil righteousness, because it is “Christ in us” accomplishing the former and the “Will of God” accomplishing the latter.
The church and the covenant with Abraham
Daniel, I’m not sure where this confusion between the sacred and the secular comes from – perhaps it’s just too late in the evening! If I understand you correctly, your argument imposes a sharp distinction between Israel and the church (isn’t that the implication of ‘truly defined and revealed in the New Testament’?), with the further assumption that Israel constituted a political entity with social responsibilities whereas the church has essentially a spiritual function. This way of formulating it sounds dangerously dualistic, but in a narrow sense it is obviously true: the church does not generally speaking have responsibility for such social goods as health and justice. But I’m not sure this means there is no continuity of purpose between the church and Israel.
I agreee with you that ‘God purposed the Church for connecting the people of the world to Christ’s righteousness.’ But why? This connecting of people to God in Christ has usually been understood as an end in itself: the mission of the church is to get people saved. My argument would be that the biblical narrative actually takes us a step beyond this into what I have called a ‘post-eschatological’ state of affairs. The idea is less alarming than it sounds. I mean simply that the primary historical consequence of Christ’s saving act was to ensure that the people of God, ‘Israel’, survived the extreme eschatological crisis of judgment. The people that came out the other side of this national catastrophe was defined no longer by ethnicity, temple, law, etc. but by its relation to Christ. But it was still the people of God, and it does not seem inappropriate to me to draw on some fundamental Old Testament ideas (about being a God-centred community, about being a blessing and a light to the nations, etc.) in order to understand the ongoing purpose of the church.
I think that this is what the emerging church is beginning to grasp – that we are called to participate in a more comprehensive, holistic missio dei to the world. We ‘incarnate’ the reality of God, we embody the love of God, the desire of God to bless, restore, redeem, affirm what is life-giving. In doing so we bring something unique to whatever practical activity we engage in – the power of the Holy Spirit and a witness to God-like characteristics such as holiness, grace, faithfulness, truthfulness, self-giving. This is what fundamentally differentiates the church from any civic institution.
Dual fulfillment of prophecy
Just to clarify, I’d like to reference your outline of an emerging theology. In point number 3, you want to redefine the end of the age as events occuring around A.D. 70. While this is a very creative interpretation of Scripture, I’m not sure how you come to this conclusion. The current age of Judaism in that time could be thought of as ending, but that’s only if you’re thinking like an Orthodox Jew. If you follow the theological concepts of Revelation, the 1000 year reign of Christ began at His resurrection. We are today under His reign and still looking forward to the end of the age. The Day of the Lord has not arrived yet. Hence there is no post-eschatological time. That time will be lived in heaven or hell. Besides how can you redefine heaven or hell? What revealed concepts we do have defy all reason.
Secondly, with point number 5, you don’t have to redefine salvation. We currently have concepts of living the Christian faith as a sign of faith. Christians, or possessors of the faith, have salvation because they belong to God through Baptism and because of the One Baptism, we all belong to the Christian community. I also wonder why you connect the death of Christ to living in the age to come. The death of Christ was to save us from something. That’s why we call it salvation. We are saved from our sins.
Thirdly, it was yourself who pointed out the confusion of sacred and the secular. In point number 7, you stated that this confusion might be more interesting. I can only assume you to mean that Christians bringing the sacredness of God during compassionate acts to the secular world is more interesting. More interesting than worshipping the present Lord and receiving the forgiveness of your sins? Of course, I understand the result of being compassionate to the world would reveal a present Lord to the lost. Hence your focus on the missio dei.
Finally, I applaud your emphasis on the purpose of the church to bless the world. Many congregations in the United States are channeling all their energy and resources on helping man where he is at. Yet I think you would still find their purpose to be: establishing a right relationship with Christ and maintaining that relationship through Bible study and worship. You say the purpose of OT Israel was to bless the world, referencing the covenant with Abraham. Yet I’m not so sure that’s how it turned out. Israel was purposed to be set apart as a holy nation. They really didn’t bless other nations. In fact they were commanded by God to entirely destroy the pagan nations of Canaan. Precisely because that is what they failed to do, they ended up worshipping the pagan gods. This idolatry angered the Lord, and He sent them into exile, first by Assyria and then by Babylonia. Looking at the covenant with Abraham again, we see that through a man of God all the nations of the world would be blessed, and they were. The descendant of Abraham came into the world and received judgment for our sake, so that when the final crisis occurs before the throne of God, we will be clothed in the righteousness of Christ. It is on that day we will enter with joy into the kingdom of God to enjoy our post-eschatological life.
Millennium, salvation and Abraham
Daniel, thanks for interacting with this. I think this sort of conversation is hugely valuable. Let me try to answer your main points.
I lean towards the view that much of the eschatological language of the New Testament applies to the actual historical circumstances faced by Jesus and the early church, so that expressions such as ‘end of the age’ and ‘day of the lord’ should be given an immediate and concrete frame of reference. So, for example, I would argue that much of the language of ‘hell’, which we have traditionally interpreted in universal post-mortem terms, actually belongs to a prophetic account of the catastrophic judgment that was about to come upon Israel – and perhaps in a looser sense, upon the whole pagan world.
Obviously there is plenty of scope for disagreement about the millennium, but in fact I would agree with you here: the ‘millennium’ designates the present period of Christ’s reign, though I think in John’s symbolic universe this period begins with the ending of systematic pagan opposition to the church (the defeat of the beast and the false prophet) rather than with the resurrection. But it is interesting that the millennium in Revelation does not end with anything resembling the ‘second coming’: the enemies of the people of God are destroyed by fire from heaven, the devil is thrown into the lake of fire, and the dead are judged (Rev.20:7-10). There is a more detailed exposition of this reading here.
I think I would want to say that ‘living the Christian faith’ should be more than a ‘sign of faith’. I do not believe that the purpose of the Christian life is simply to exercise faith, as though that were somehow intrinsically virtuous. Faith is not an end in itself – at least, not at this practical level. It is the means by which we do the work of God. Otherwise we risk turning our ‘works’ into mere spiritual exercises, publicity stunts.
I don’t see the problem here. Surely salvation is a matter of from… for…. My point is only that we are ‘saved’ from sin for a purpose: to experience new life in the Spirit and to be an effective people of God in the world.
That statement really reflects my view that the church has neglected the outward, missional dimension of its life and calling – or at least has severely restricted the scope of its interaction with the world. I simply want to suggest that in this emerging, postmodern state of affairs some of the most interesting things are happening outside the sphere of routine church attendance. Having said that, you present a helpful corrective to the emerging church’s fear of everything conventional and familiar. We can only undertake the missio dei on the basis of a vibrant and healthy life together in Christ.
Again, I think the ‘emerging church’ would have difficulty with this uni-directional paradigm, according to which the church’s task seen as getting people to move down a one-way street from the world to Christ and stay there until the bus comes along to take them to heaven. Why not a two-way street: we are called out of the world to become disciples of Christ for the purpose of going back down the street to serve the world – not as humanitarians but as priests (see ‘Towards a theology of public presence’)?
The questions you raise about the covenant with Abraham really need a bit more thought. You can’t set the requirement for holiness over against the vocation to be a blessing to the nations: the fact that Israel was commanded to expunge paganism from within its borders does not preclude a more positive and compassionate approach to the nations outside Israel – doesn’t the story of Jonah illustrate the tension between condemnation of a foreign people on account of their ‘evil’ and the compassion of God (‘should not I pity Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left?’)?
Post-eschatological?
Andrew,
I find myself in agreement with much of what you have been writing. I especially like your reflections on the priestly nature of the gathered body and the “theology of public presence.”
I don’t share your expectation of a future judgment or resurrection, or another participant’s suggestion of “another new heaven and earth” — at least not in the kind of ontological terms on which I assume we are usually speaking of such things. (This requires me to employ a distinction between “epistemological” and “ontological” that I don’t think is really true. Bear with me on this.) This partially because of theological considerations but is at least as much because I am simply and admittedly a skeptic. I don’t — and I speak only for myself — believe in a conscious afterlife. I do (however paradoxically) believe in eternal life, and I certainly do not think that the Biblical language that speaks of such things is without referent. Moreover, I am not particularly concerned that others agree with me in the details of my expectations or lack thereof.
I prefer “post-apocalyptic” to “post-eschatological,” for a couple of reasons that I hope are not merely semantics (is there any such thing, anyway?). First, for the same reasons you use “post-eschatological,” but also because I think many of us, regardless of the specifics of our eschatological thinking in general, have moved past the apocalyptic thinking of fundamentalists and others for whom, say, Left Behind is a reality. (I do not intend a lack of charity in that statement but it may be inevitable.) There is also a sense in which postmodernism in general has a postapocalyptic feel. The modernist enterprise is crumbling and we find ourselves in a new heaven and a new earth. Our world is very different and the secular eschatology of the Myth of Progress, while it still has its true believers, has effectively collapsed.
I would take issue, however, with the idea that, in seeking to minister to the world and embody the Kingdom of God that we are, somehow, not eschatological. In this I am taking cues from Brueggemann’s The Prophetic Imagination. Regardless of what we are expecting for the future of the cosmos — I am expecting less than you are, it seems — we see the Kingdom breaking in and are seeking to be a part of that. We see the opportunity to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly. We see the ways in which the good news must come to the poor. This, I submit, really is eschatology, if perhaps I am stretching the denotive quality of the Greek roots of that word. (I realize as well that for this to have meaning to some, they must hang onto a concrete expectation that is more “literal” than what I am suggesting. I submit, however, that my belief in the inbreaking Kingdom is no less “real.”)
Beyond this, I suspect that by limiting our ideas of eschatology to a single timeframe or event — be that fulfilled in the past or awaiting us in the future — we divest ourselves of a rich language that might give voice to our experience as the people of God. In Psalm 18, David speaks in nearly apocalyptic terms (“foundations of the earth laid bare,” etc.) of his victory over Saul. We might scoff at this gratuitious use of language but we are not David. To tell the story in terms of its bare facts would be to not tell the story at all, and certainly not to tell the truth. I will not belabor this because I know you are familiar with this principle. And I realize that at this point, even my use of “post-apocalyptic” is suspect.
Peace to you,
Theo
Post-apocalyptic?
Theo, thanks for these valuable remarks. I particularly like the nuances that you draw from the ‘post-apocalyptic’ idea – I agree that postmodernism appears to have moved beyond apocalypticism. That is an interesting phenomenon in itself.
I don’t have a serious problem with using ‘eschatological’ to designate the present ‘breaking in’ of the kingdom. It seems to me, though, that we are simply using the term to do different things in different arguments. You are using it in this way primarily to resist the idea that biblical eschatology/apocalyptic has to do with some cataclysmic end-of-the-world dénouement. My concern is to stress the much more immediate historical and narrative relevance of biblical eschatology – by ‘post-eschatological’ I mean that the eschatological crisis anticipated in the New Testament is now, in effect, behind us. It is where we locate eschatology in history that interests me, whereas your concern (correct me if I’m wrong) appears to be more existential. Both approaches are legitimate, though to my mind it makes more sense to interpret the ‘eschaton’ as the end of something (eg. the old covenant) than as an ongoing experience. ‘Kingdom’ and ‘Spirit’ seem more appropriate categories from that point of view.
Having said that, I agree, it would be a mistake to abandon the language of eschatology simply because we may want to reassign much of the New Testament imagery to the past. After all, the Old Testament, as you point out, uses apocalyptic language to invest various events with theological significance, and I see no reason why we shouldn’t continue to do so, not least because the global church will always face crises similar to the defining crisis of the New Testament period. The important thing is simply to understand how the language functions and what it refers to.
The question of the ‘afterlife’ we should perhaps pursue separately. There is a big difference between using apocalyptic language to describe historical events, even future events, and using it to describe something that lies beyond history. Personally, I would like to keep both final judgment and the new heaven / new earth language in view, but I’m not at all sure what that means. I imagine that we would find it rather difficult to maintain a sense of the ultimate sovereignty of God without putting some sort of temporal limit to things, without positing a final accountability, without imagining all things made new.
Closer than they appear
Andrew,
First of all, thank you for the subject line. I was expecting that, and I am glad you delivered.
Your points are well-taken — I think we are actually very close. I agree that the eschatological language employed in the New Testament has, as its primary referent, the change of covenants of which the destruction of Jerusalem was the principal sign. I suspect that this itself was an appropriation of Old Testament eschatological language — in other words, I don’t think this meaning is necessarily inherent in the OT, though as followers of Jesus we now interpret that language accordingly. Whatever Isaiah thought he meant about the Messiah, for instance, our belief in Jesus Christ as the Messiah provides the interpretation of the texts that prophesy his coming. I think this is the point the Gospel writers are making in telling the Jesus story the way they do.
If we, like those in whose footsteps we follow, continue to invest our collective life with meaning through the use of such language, then our eschatology becomes somewhat existential (I will accept your designation). It is in this sense, perhaps, that we might see concern over where eschatological lines are drawn in history (which I do consider important; it is because I believe in an historical fulfillment that I have taken this route) take a subordinate role to the missional character of the church as priesthood and as blessing. If my brother or sister’s concrete expectation and my existentialism lead to constructive and thoughtful engagement with the world, then I am forced to wonder if we really disagree as strongly as it might seem.
In our particular case, it would seem we are very close indeed.
Peace to you,
Theo
Holiness and vocation
Andrew,
While it is noble that you strive to bring out an OT missiological view of Israel, you’re going to need a lot more proof than one reference to Jonah. The burden of thought or proof rests not on my shoulders but on yours. While Jonah was indeed a blessing to Nineveh, that is one incident of God being a blessing through a prophet. That does not include Israel or their covenant with God. Again you still lack proof for your over arching theme of Israel and the missio dei.
Israel and the missio dei
Daniel, thanks - that’s a fair challenge. I recognize the danger of overstating the case. I have shifted this line of discussion to a separate article: Israel and the mission of God. Let me know if it’s still inadequate.