Luke 24:1-12

Luke 24:1-12 (NRSV)

 But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. ² They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, ³ but when they went in, they did not find the body. ⁴ While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. ⁵ The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. ⁶ Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, ⁷ that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” ⁸ Then they remembered his words, ⁹ and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. ¹⁰ Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. ¹¹ But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. ¹² But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.

24:1-12 Discovery of the Empty Tomb

            Luke 24:1-12 (Mark 16:1-8, Matt 28:1-8) (Year C Easter Day) is a story of the discovery of the empty tomb. [1]The women who come to the tomb on Sunday at dawn are unconcerned about who will roll the stone away. The disciples are in Jerusalem, for his account of the outpouring of the Spirit will take place there. They have prepared spices to anoint the body. The stone was rolled away, but when they went in, they did not find the body. The tomb was empty. They are perplexed by the emptiness of the tomb, showing that the emptiness tomb did not lead to belief in the resurrection. It has the apologetic motive of verifying the fact of the resurrection of Jesus.[2] Jesus had to be entombed on Friday because it was against Jewish law to leave the body of a person who had been executed outside overnight.[3] In Mark and Luke, the women have to wait until Sunday to tend the body, not because it is prohibited to tend dead bodies on the Sabbath,[4] but because doing the work of rolling the stone away from the tomb is prohibited. This motive is puzzling, for it implies that the burial was incomplete or provisional, of which there is no indication of in the account provided.[5] Additionally, any person who goes to the tomb and is exposed to a dead body will be made ritually impure for seven days afterward.[6] This means that any man who might come with them on Sunday would render himself ritually impure for the rest of the Passover holiday. Typically, one would give up his state of ritual purity only for the death of one of his nearest kin.[7]Because the women themselves are not entitled to perform Passover sacrifices, becoming ritually impure is less of an issue for them. The separation of the emptiness of the tomb from the appearance of the risen Lord suggests the empty tomb as an isolated fact does not carry the weight of the message of the church. The empty tomb is the presupposition of the message regarding the risen Lord, but not its content. The empty tomb is a sign that points to the risen Lord. [8] Two men in dazzling white clothes stand beside them. They experience terror and bow with their faces to the ground. However, the men ask, in the words of a popular proverb, why they seek the living among the dead, for he is not here, but has risen. The men then express the heart of this scene, inviting them to recall that while still in Galilee, Luke modifying the pointing to an appearance of the risen Lord in Galilee that we find in Mark, he taught them that the Son of Man (τὸν υἱὸν τοῦ ἀνθρώπου) must be handed over to sinners, crucified, and on the third day rise again (ἀναστῆναι). Luke has composed this reference to the Son of Man from the three passion predictions, this time including a reference to the cross, which shows the lateness of the saying.[9] Diverging from the account Mark, Luke says they went back to the eleven and all the rest. We now learn that the women involved were Mary Magdalene, Joanna, identified in 8:2-3 as the wife of Chuza, Mary the mother of James, and the other women. Because the women themselves are not entitled to perform Passover sacrifices, becoming ritually impure is less of an issue for them. These very women have been with Jesus for a long time. Two of the three women who come to the tomb on Sunday morning were among those who “saw where the body was laid” (15:47). These women observed the crucifixion “from a distance.” They were Jesus’ followers who “provided for him when he was in Galilee,” supporting and sponsoring (even financially) his ministry (15:40-41; cf. Luke 8:1-3). Unlike the disciples, the women do not “desert” Jesus (14:50), nor do they deny him (14:66-72). Instead, they are the most “faithful” of Jesus’ followers. At the same time, the women do not come expecting a risen Savior. These women can give eyewitness testimony to the grim reality of Jesus' death and the burial of his body. The desire to offer his poor dead body one final act of service caused the women to return to Jesus' tomb early that morning. They planned to anoint him with spices that would mask the odor of death and decay that they already expected to find permeating the tomb. Some suggest that the burial Joseph of Arimathea gave to Jesus was to fulfill the law detailed in Deut 21:22‑23‑‑a hanged man "under God's curse" was not to remain all night on the tree where he died.  This would indicate that Joseph was convinced of Jesus' criminal status and that he rushed the burial to keep the law, not out of respect for Jesus or any concern for the approaching Sabbath.  Since Jesus was a criminal, his body would not rate any special attention or anointing. One would simply entomb it as quickly as possible.  In this case, the women's determination to supply spices and offer him an anointing would serve to bring honor back to Jesus' name. It is also no small irony that the very focus of the women's concern, Jesus' body is exactly what they find missing from the tomb. They tell the people gathered what they heard. The words seemed like an idle tale, which contrasts with the response of the women. We see further the difficulty involved in asking people to accept the apostolic witness, for at this point, the disciples do not come to faith through the witness of the women. They did not believe the witness of the women, which has a ring of truth to it, since it does not put the disciples in a good light.[10] In a brief, matter-of-fact account,[11] Peter does run to the tomb and cautiously and timidly stoops and looks in, he sees the linen cloths by themselves. In 24:24, the two on the road to Emmaus report that some of their friends, note the plural, went to the tomb and found everything as the women said. This tradition would be expanded in John 20:3-10. Peter returned to the gathering amazed and wondering what has happened. 

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[1] (Bultmann, The History of the Synoptic Tradition, 1921, 1931, 1958), 286.

[2] (Bultmann, The History of the Synoptic Tradition, 1921, 1931, 1958), 287, but to say that the purpose of the story is to “prove” the resurrection is going too far. (Jeremias, New Testament Theology: The Proclamation of Jesus, 1971), 304-5, says it is unfortunate that this account of the discovery of the empty tomb is the focus rather than John 20:1-2, where Mary Magdalene, who saw where the body was buried, returned to offer lament, saw from a distance the stone rolled away, went with alarm to Peter because she thought someone had stollen the body and placed it one of the graves for criminals. This account is plausible and free of bias. Peter would have gone to see the tomb empty for himself (Luke 20:12). Some women from the company of the followers of Jesus amazed them because of their discovery of the empty tomb (Luke 24:22).

[3] (Deuteronomy 21:22-23).

[4] (Mishna Shabbat 23:5).

[5] (Bultmann, The History of the Synoptic Tradition, 1921, 1931, 1958), 285, which suggests its secondary nature. 

[6] (Numbers 19:11-20).

[7] (Leviticus 21:1-3).

[8] (Barth K. , Church Dogmatics, 2004, 1932-67)III.2 [47.1] 453.

[9] (Todt, 1965, 1963), 152;(Lindars, 1983), 134; (Jeremias, New Testament Theology: The Proclamation of Jesus, 1971), 263, 295, who says the phrase goes back to Aramaic tradition.

[10] (Jeremias, New Testament Theology: The Proclamation of Jesus, 1971), 306.

[11] (Jeremias, New Testament Theology: The Proclamation of Jesus, 1971), 305.

I Corinthians 15:19-26

I Corinthians 15:19-26 (NRSV)

¹⁹ If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.

²⁰ But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have died. ²¹ For since death came through a human being, the resurrection of the dead has also come through a human being; ²² for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ. ²³ But each in his own order: Christ the first fruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ. ²⁴ Then comes the end, when he hands over the kingdom to God the Father, after he has destroyed every ruler and every authority and power. ²⁵ For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. ²⁶ The last enemy to be destroyed is death.

            I Corinthians 15:19-26 focus upon the importance of the Easter event in Jesus and therefore for us as well. It reminds us that doubting whether the resurrection of Jesus represents truth is nothing new.

¹⁹ If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied (eleeinoteroi pantwn anqrwpwn). Paul takes it for granted in this whole passage that the resurrection of the dead belongs to the core of Christian faith. If there is no such thing, the preaching and faith of the early church are invalid, according to this passage. Denial of resurrection means the destruction of Christian hope. Christians would lead a pathetic life if this hope were not true. Paul is not afraid of the charge of offering, “pie in the sky, by and by.”  The Christian hope overcomes the misery and evils of this life. The scope of God's saving work in Christ goes way beyond what we can see now. Hope that only encompasses what Christ means for the present life is pitiable hope. It is small hope. Paul calls the church to greater hope. Yet, what he finds interesting is that this message is so incredible to his Corinthians audience that he has to prove its right to receive a hearing. Paul is arguing that what God has done in Christ in rising him from the dead is not an exceptional case. Paul has argued that his death was “for us,” and now he argues that his resurrection has implications “for us” as well. Modern theology has tried to go another direction, basing the hope of life beyond death on the fellowship of believers with Christ now. Our present experience of Easter as a symbol is more important than whether God physically raised Jesus of Nazareth from the dead. Truth becomes a matter of personal belief and preference. The fact that Easter occurs in the spring is not helpful, for the reduction of the message of Easter to the repeated cycles of nature is tempting. The symbol shields us from the stark uniqueness of the event of Easter.[1] The resurrection of Jesus from the dead is a specific instance of a universal human promise and possibility. Yet, the presence of Jesus in resurrection is more radical and unique by virtue of the way he influences the way the world is.[2] Clearly, the emphasis upon this fellowship is important for the continuation of the influence of Christ upon the world. Yet, the basis of such hope relies upon the prior demonstrated power of God to overcome death.[3] Truth is event rather than a pious longing or illusion.

            According to Paul, without the resurrection of Jesus all who thought themselves part of the new dispensation of grace, freed from sin and death, remain locked in the prison of the old dispensation: Gentiles are not part of the kingdom promise. It is the fact of the resurrection that gives meaning and weight to every other issue according to Paul. Hence, even more important than proper practice is proper proclamation.

I Corinthians 15:20-26, in a segment that extends to verse 28, deals with the theme of accepting the consequences of the resurrection, applying the resurrection of Jesus to the resurrection of humanity.

²⁰ Nevertheless, in fact, God has raised Christ from the dead, the first fruits of those who have died. Paul reasserts his claim with no hesitation. Significantly, the idea of rising from the dead to a new and eternal life has its roots in Jewish eschatological hope. For passages like this, we have the idea of the resurrection of the just as a transition to eternal life. It was clearly not a return to earthly life. It calls Christians to righteous, hopeful and faithful living. The verse implies a bodily resurrection.  Note the shift to a joyful note.  Christ is the first fruit of human resurrection.  The mood shifts to triumphant.  In what sense could Paul say that Christ is the "first fruits?"  It might refer to the Passover, since the ceremony of the first fruits occurs during that week. In Deuteronomy, God commands for an offering the first fruits of the crop with a profession of gratitude to God for deliverance from Egyptian bondage and the possession of the fruitful land of Palestine. Christ is the first fruits of a new redemption. Having shown that claiming there is no resurrection of the dead is an untenable theological position, Paul confidently asserts what he believes to be the correct belief. Christ’s resurrection marks the beginning of a great harvest season during which those who have died God will also eventually raise. He places the resurrection of Jesus in a temporal frame. For those who might claim their libertine rights in a Christology and eschatology that views resurrection as fully realized in the present, Paul demonstrates that God will reveal more. This is a process, like the harvest, in which there is an early, promissory crop. Christ's resurrection is like that crop. This is good news indeed for any age, and offers a power of living that lifts the believer beyond and above any pressure of life.[4]

Paul does not seem to think that the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth is a matter of indifference. He does not invite Christians to believe it or not to believe it. Rather, he suggests that if you take it away, the whole picture is different. The go-to prophets of our time could be right about Christianity. Karl Marx could be right in accusing Christianity of offering a future illusion of happiness that makes them ignore their present suffering at the hands of capitalists and thus impedes their willingness to change their situation. Sigmund Freud could be right in saying Christianity is nothing more than a wish-fulfillment belief that invites people to ignore their harsh reality. Friedrich Nietzsche could be right in saying Christianity is only for the weak.[5]

Belief in the resurrection of the body is a leap of faith, to be sure. Yet, I would like to invite you to a brief bit of speculation. If we are ensouled bodies, as Karl Barth and many other theologians have come to believe, then the resurrection of the body involves admirable consistency within the biblical witness. Today, we think of the soul as “within” the body. The resurrection of the body may well envision a time when the body will be within the soul. The means by which we know bodies and the world will change. We have an analogy of this in our experience of memory. Our memory of past events keeps alive the painful and joyful events of our past. Memory may well be a feeble anticipation of the future resurrection of the body, in which soul (memory) will now embrace body. In philosophy, one can affirm that the Infinite and Eternal embrace the finite and the temporal. As space-time is “in” God, so our little, insignificant, and individual space-time will be “in” soul. The new heaven and new earth will be the same, yet, not the same. Such speculations can only be that. The Bible itself is largely poetic about eternal life with God will be like. However, the resurrection of Jesus and the creedal affirmation of the resurrection of the body understandably invite us to such speculation. We are wondering, questioning beings, after all. What would happen if the sensuous life rose from its death to new life in the soul? We would then have a powerful image of Christian hope for the redemption of all that God has made.[6]

I do understand the difficulty in believing the apostolic witness concerning the resurrection of Jesus and its implication for us. Death is final. We can go to any cemetery and see how final death is. The finality of death confronts each of us. When death comes, that is it. You log off. Screen fades to black. Game over. Beyond that, our science confronts us with the cold, death-like existence of the universe. It no longer thinks life is everywhere in the universe. Life, if we do find it somewhere, is not in the Milky Way galaxy.  So far, the galaxies in our neighborhood of the universe do not appear to have life. While such reflections can be depressing, they also provide a context for the nature of the hope contained in the witness to the resurrection of Jesus and its implication for our lives. Such a discussion can feel like diverting attention away from life here and now. Yet, it can also deal with the practical question of whether death has the final word. If death is that final word, do our lives have an ultimate meaning or purpose?

Frankly, if we view ourselves as isolated individuals, meaning and purpose will be impossible to find. Connecting our lives with eternity assures us that we are accountable for the way we live our lives. Our lives are not simply about temporality. Our individual lives have meaning only in the context of the story of our lives, and the influence that story has on the lives we touch. The story that other people tell intersects with our story, and influences us. Our individual lives have meaning in such webs of relationships, where we influence each other far more profoundly than we imagine. Even then, our lives will have little meaning, for most of us influence the lives of a relatively small number of persons. Within our immediate families, after a few generations most will not know our names. They will not know what we did with our lives. Our ancestors lived and died, having influences upon our lives in ways most of us will never explicitly know. For me, belief in the resurrection is as simple as this: God loves each of us individually to such extent that God will not allow eternity to forget any of us. God is the one who connects our finite, time-bound lives with eternity. Therefore, we are accountable for how we live our lives. Accountability to the ultimate means the vices and virtues that are part of our lives matter to God. I do not pretend to know all the details of the nature of that life. My only confidence of that kind of love is the life-giving power of the Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead. As hard as it may be at times for me, here is the truth to which I cling. I do not pretend to understand the nature of the resurrection of Jesus. I do have the confidence that this connection between Father and Son is a connection Jesus established with humanity. In Jesus Christ, we learn that death will not have the final word. The final word belongs to God, and that word is life.

            Paul now (v. 21-22) offers the consequences of accepting the resurrection. ²¹ For since death came through a human being, the resurrection of the dead has also come through a human being; ²² for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ. In writing to the Christians in Corinth, Paul talks about the resurrection of the dead, apparently in response to some who were saying there is no such thing. This sounds like today, does it not? We like to think we have come up with new questions, and in some cases, we have done so. However, it was no easier to believe that God raised anyone from the dead back then than it is today. In particular, of course, it would be less likely that God would raise from the dead one whom political and religious authorities deemed worthy of crucifixion.  Yet, Paul argues that there is such a thing as the resurrection of the dead, and for proof, he points to the resurrection of Jesus. Paul is making a simple point. If all we get out of Christ is a little inspiration for a few short years, we are a sorry lot. However, the truth is that Christ has been raised up, the first in a long legacy of those who are going to leave the cemeteries. There is a nice symmetry in this: Death initially came by a man, and resurrection from death came by a man. Everybody dies in Adam; everybody comes alive in Christ. However, we have to wait our turn: Christ is first, then those with him at his Coming, the grand consummation when, after crushing the opposition, he hands over his kingdom to God the Father. He will not let up until the last enemy is down -- and the very last enemy is death! Paul talks about those who trust Christ eventually leaving cemeteries. That reminds us of those words from Revelation about death being no more. One of the places we sometimes hear those words read aloud is at cemeteries when we gather around an open grave, about to lower the casket containing the body of a loved one into the ground. At the graveside, with the chilling winds of winter whipping around us and the icy cold of the snow-covered earth seeping into our feet -- where we are huddling together trying to find a different kind of warmth, one that has nothing to do with air temperature -- we need to hear this promise from God:

"See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away." (Revelation 21:3-4)

"The first things have passed away." Another way to say that is that the fallen world has passed away. 

For Paul, the resurrection of Jesus was vital because it validated the essential goodness of God’s creation. Resurrection meant that God was not abandoning the creation project that he had been working on since Genesis, despite the desire of humanity to engage its own failed self-indulgent and self-destructive project. In the resurrection of Jesus, Paul says, God was doing nothing less than beginning to reverse the curse of sin and death that entered the world through human sin. Paul states categorically that Christ was indeed human, and that through him God will bring resurrection to other human beings.  The resurrection means participation already in the salvation of eternal life. Although stories of resurrection abound in Scripture, in both the Old and New Testaments, it would not be natural even for Jewish believers of this time, much less recently pagan believers, to easily accept the notion that all ordinary human beings could be raised from the dead simply through their sheer belief in Christ. Paul transcends experience and reason.  He declares boldly the new relation between humanity and Christ, and between Christ and God. In order to argue further for belief in Christ’s full humanity, Paul returns to the comparison between the legacy of sin and death left to humanity through Adam and the legacy of grace and life left to the church through Christ which he also included in his letter to the Romans. Both death and eternal life entered this world through human agents.  Paul presses the historical frame backward to its origin. Adam, evoking the story of God's creation and the human betrayal of God's order in the Garden, represents death, and Christ represents life. In Adam, Paul claims, as he does in Romans 5:12-21, humans die. In the graphic words of John Calvin, in his commentary on this passage, he says that Adam did not die only for himself, but for us all. Yet, Christ “did not rise for himself alone; for he came, that he might restore everything that had been ruined in Adam.” In Christ, God makes humans alive. Paul may have had the issue of some believing that Jesus only appeared to die on the cross. Christ was human, and through him, God will bring resurrection to other human beings. Interestingly, it is Adam, and not Eve, whom Paul lifts up as the originator of human sinfulness.  He makes the philosophical parallel between Jesus, as the quintessential “Son of Man,” or representative human being, and Adam, the paradigmatic human of Genesis 1.  One represents the corrupted image of God.  The other represents its restoration.

²³ However, each in his own order: Christ the first fruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ. Christ is merely the first of those who will rise from the dead.  As the representative human being, he represents the best of all of us.  He is the human equivalent of the “first fruits,” the first and best example of the crop that ancient Israelite farmers were to offer to God.  This new strain of humanity, this new crop, has as its first example the very Son of Man and Son of God himself.  The implication is that now the strain of this crop has altered.  It is now a new creation, and every example of this species in the future will be heir to eternal life.  Christ will arise first, and then, at his coming, those who belong to him.  This implies that the general resurrection of the dead will take place only at the return of Christ at the end of time.  I Thessalonians 4:13-18 goes into greater detail, saying that those who have already died in the faith will rise first when Christ returns, and then those who are alive will be taken up to join them.

In verses 24-26, the universe in its entirety, at present under the control of evil forces, will ultimately have its reconciliation with God.  ²⁴ Then comes the end, when he hands over the kingdom to God the Father, after he has destroyed every ruler and every authority and power. ²⁵ For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet, referring to Psalm 110:1. ²⁶ The last enemy to be destroyed is death. The resurrection of Jesus was thus a prototype and the beginning of the resurrection to come for all of us in “the end” when Jesus returns, destroying the forces of evil, and God sets his good creation right in the way that it had always been intended. Paul has an enthusiast and inspired conviction that Christ is to bring things, not to a destructive disintegration, but to a completion in which God will achieve God’s goal, namely, life, order, and peace.[7]  Christ will nullify all aggregations of opposition to the rule of God and will assign this victory to God the Father. Paul does not seem to experience any tension between his Jewish monotheism heritage and his present affirmation that Jesus is Lord. Instead, the lordship of Christ is the continuation and fullest expression of the creative power of God.[8] As John Calvin put it, in rather picturesque language, the world is like a stormy sea. The human condition is one full of uncertainty. Christ will lead us to a safe harbor.

Hence as the world will have an end, so also will government, and magistracy, and laws, and distinctions of ranks, and different orders of dignities, and everything of that nature. There will be no more any distinction between servant and master, between king and peasant, between magistrate and private citizen. … Bishops, teachers, and Prophets will cease to hold these distinctions, and will resign the office which they now discharge. 

The life of faith believes that Christ’s present rule makes action worthwhile and puts real power on the side of good over evil.  Yet, in this present world, this passage recognizes that the conflict is continuing and commitment allows no rest.[9] 

            These verses describe the final phase of Paul's understanding of God's plan for salvation. Albert Schweitzer outlines his view of Jewish apocalyptic expectations.[10] According to W. D. Davies, his mistake is to try to force passages of Paul too tightly into that framework. The passage before us is an example. Schweitzer said that those who denied the resurrection at Corinth were an “ultra-conservative” party who thought that only those alive at the time of the Messianic age would experience its joys.[11] For Davies, when verse 24 says, “Then comes the end,” refers to the final consummation. In contrast to Schweitzer, however, he thinks that it means a short interval will follow the Parousia the resurrection and the judgment that will usher in the final consummation. For him, Paul simply does not teach a prolonged “messianic age” that precedes the final consummation of all things. The eschatology of Paul is simple in comparison to the structure into which Schweitzer wants to put it. It contains no reference to a Messianic Kingdom such as is contemplated in Baruch, 4 Ezra, and Revelation when there would be a final judgment, a general resurrection of the righteous dead, the transformation of the righteous living and ensuing upon all this the final consummation, the perfected reign of God, when God would be all in all. In contrast to all this, for Paul, the resurrection of Jesus is the first fruits. This image implies that the full harvest will follow. In the resurrection of Jesus, Paul saw the beginning of the end. The powers of the age to come were already at work in his time and place. It was along these lines that Paul participated in the reconstruction of the eschatology of the early church. Now, the background for this reconstruction was Judaism, in that it had already expended much thought upon the problems involved in the notion of resurrection. Such Jewish speculation influenced early church thinking in this regard.[12]

            Bultmann thinks this passage has no connection with the goal of creation, in which God will be “all in all.” Rather, it derives from Gnostic cosmology and eschatology.[13] Whether one can tie the terminology to Gnostic teaching, I doubt. Yet, I find it reasonably clear that this phase is charged with traditional apocalyptic expectation of the defeat of human powers (governments, economies, judiciaries), as well as other powers (sin, disease, death). Paul’s reason for the delay in the resurrection appears to be a belief that Christ must first vanquish evil in the world before God will raise the faithful dead. If the last enemy God must conquer were indeed death, this would make perfect sense.  Resurrection cannot take place until God has destroyed death.  Paul obviously envisioned this battle taking place on earth, at the end of time.  Only when Christ defeats this last enemy can Christ’s followers join him in triumph in their new resurrection existence. For Paul, as for many Jews of his time, this expectation represented the ultimate faith in God's sovereignty over creation. While the current age does not entirely reflect God's power, God has not revealed the totality of God's purposes for human history. Jewish teaching maintained belief in a sovereign and single God through a deferred expectation of the complete revelation of God's power in the world. Paul's organizes his understanding of this epic, however, around the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is Christ, Paul argues, citing Psalm 110:1, who will put all enemies under his feet. Christ will deliver the kingdom to God.

            The statement that death is the last enemy of all living things is powerful. In the death of Jesus, God has seen the enemy that death is for humanity, and has made it the enemy of God. We no longer face the judgment contained in death, because God has embraced this judgment in the death of Christ.[14] Fear of death pierces deep into life. It causes us to make an unrestricted self-affirmation, regardless of the finite quality of our lives. Yet, it robs us of the power to accept life. Either way, sin and death have a close link. In part, sin makes us fail to accept our end. In part, fear of death pushes us more deeply into sin.[15]

            None of this, for most people, is easy to believe as truth. One difficulty for us is that the weirdness of Jewish apocalyptic seems to find partial confirmation in the resurrection of Jesus. Yet, I ask a simple question. What would happen in your life if, out of all the cultures and beliefs of the known and future world history, God chose to unite with humanity in the Jewish flesh of Jesus of Nazareth in the first century? God would be saying Yes to this hope for the final victory of justice, peace, and life. The end is not nothingness or death. The end is the victory of God, and therefore the victory of justice, peace, and life. It would mean a new coming of Jesus Christ, for he came as Jesus of Nazareth, he came to his followers and Paul after his death, he came in the power of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, and he will come in a new way at the end. I still cling to that hope, even with all the doubts and questions.

The point of Easter is that this world, God’s good creation, matters. What we do and how we live, as people created in the image of God within creation, has ultimate significance when we understand ourselves to be part of God’s mission of a “new creation” (II Corinthians 5:17). We care for ourselves, we care for each other and we care for the earth because we know that God has not and will not abandon this creation project but will ultimately make it whole again. As we wait for that great day, we are to spend our lives not giving into death but embracing the goodness of life. The point of the gospel is not that we go to heaven to be with God but that God comes here to be with us: “Your kingdom come … on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10).

Most human beings struggle to find their place in life. We have that sense or intuition that the struggle, suffering, and pain of life need to trend toward meaningfulness. Biological striving to exist is not enough for most of us. At some level, we want our lives to mean something unique and purposeful. The suffering, sin, evil, trial, and death in this life point us toward an end beyond this world and this life. For Christianity, what lies beyond is not an endless round of this life. I like to think of it this way. We begin a fellowship with Christ in this life that begins a process of change in our lives toward what God intends for us. Since human life always presses to the future and the improvement of our lives, we know that life here will not attain what God intends for us. Eternity is that dimension of our life with God in which we become what God intends. This belief or faith has its foundation in what God has done in Jesus, in raising him from the dead. God finds something so valuable in us that God wants to spend eternity with the unique persons we have become.

The work of God in the resurrection of Jesus occurs in a fallen world. The resurrection releases the beautiful and liberates the world from its bondage to sin and death. It dissipates the shadows of nothingness and death that haunt creation.[16] I want my life, I want the life of the church, to be part of dissipating such shadows that lie across all creation.

First, we do not know now if something is part of the fallen world or part of the beautiful world struggling to emerge. I wonder how many of us could say that some things we thought were bad at one time in our lives were now, upon reflection, good and beautiful. Our perspective has changed. We know better today than we did at the time. God can transform and redeem things we once thought of as bad into beautiful things.

Second, the work of God in the resurrection of Jesus reminds us that the events of today are not the end of our story. Our lives are stories we are still writing. Even today, if we think our lives reflect more of the fallen world than the beautiful and good world, we especially need to remember that the story of our lives is not over. The same is true as we ponder world history. The future remains unknown to us. Much will depend upon our openness to the future God has declared as truth in the resurrection of Jesus.

Third, we can certainly bring more of the truth, goodness, and beauty that the resurrection of Jesus focuses upon into the world by living, as much as in us lies, in the way he lived. We can live with compassion, bringing healing, wisdom, and liberation where we can in our words and deeds. Living in this way will relieve the bondage and dispel the shadows of nothingness and death that creep across individual lives and embrace our world.

Fourth, we can resist fallen power structures. Cultural forces ridicule the beliefs and values of the church. Economic forces bind people in the envy and greed of materialism. Political ideology blinds people to the truth that may be in the positions of others. It leads to new forms of hate toward people and violence against opposing groups. This attempt to locate evil in a particular group, whether one identifies it in Left, Right, one percent, and so on, is particularly dangerous today. Evil runs through the heart of each of us. If we get rid of the group we have come to hate, we will still have to face ourselves. We can see this struggle in the shadow that terrorism has brought into the world and into our lives.

Fifth, the resurrection of Jesus means we do not allow a fallen world to define who we are as individuals and as world. As we present ourselves to Christ, we steadily learn what it means not to allow a fallen world to conform us to its image. We slowly learn what it is like to think and do in a way that discerns the good, acceptable, and perfect will of God (Romans 12:1-2). We are slowly becoming citizens of a coming new world in which Christ will rule. Thus, we slowly learn to live by its rules, ethics and values. Our worship, fellowship, and serving as a community of faith today helps us to see the deception into which we can fall by the shadow of this fallen world.

Sixth, the shadow of sin, nothingness, and death impinges upon our lives. Shakespeare records a befuddled Hamlet pondering his existence in his famous “To be or not to be” soliloquy:

To die: to sleep;

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks 

That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;

To sleep: perchance to dream: aye, there the rub; 

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil.

(Hamlet, III.1.61-68)

William Cullen Bryant (1794–1878) regards death as something akin to lying down on the couch for a nap. The closing lines of his poem, Thanatopsis, go like this:

So live, that when thy summons comes to join

The innumerable caravan, which moves

To that mysterious realm, where each shall take

His chamber in the silent halls of death,

Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,

Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed

By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave

Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

Yet, the resurrection of Jesus is the reminder of God that while the shadow will cause sorrow, it ought not to lead us to despair as those who have no hope (I Thessalonians 4:13). Death is a powerful and at times and overwhelming word. However, in Christ, we know death does not have the final word. 

When Christians gather on Easter Sunday, they do celebrate a miracle that happened to Jesus around 30 AD. Yet, we also gather because of how that event in Jesus of Nazareth affects each of us as well. His resurrection defines our destiny. He came and he is to come. He comes to release this world from its bondage to death and push back the shadows of evil, nothingness, and death through a well-founded hope in the coming fullness of the rule of God over the world and therefore over our lives.

---

[1] -Loren Wilkinson, "How Green Is Easter?" Christianity Today, April 5, 1999, 48-49.

[2] Peter Hodgson (Winds of the Spirit, p. 274) The risen Jesus becomes “a co-determining factor in the present constitution of the world,” at least, when his “Christ-gestalt” takes shape in the world. For him, the identity of Jesus of Nazareth is borne through history by this gestalt. However, this identity is so intense that Jesus himself is felt to be personally present and active in the work of liberation involved in reconciliation. This takes place through the power of God. God contains within the divine life both the individual self and the world in which the risen self is newly emobodied. In rising into the world we rise into God.

[3] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology, Volume 3, p. 534)

[4] W. D. Davies (Paul and Rabbinic Judaism, p. 106)

[5] -N. T. Wright, "Grave matters," Christianity Today, April 6, 1998.

[6] Lewis, C.S., Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer. G. Bles: 1964, 121-22, 158.

[7] Orr and Walther, Anchor Bible.

[8] John D. G. Dunn

[9] Dunne (Christology in the Making, p. 182)

[10] Schweitzer (The Mysticism of Paul the Apostle, 65-68)

[11] Davies (Paul and Rabbinic Judaism, p. 290)

[12] Davies (ibid., p. 295)

[13] Bultmann (Theology of the New Testament, Volume 1, p. 228)

[14] Barth (Church Dogmatics, III.2 p. 600, [47.5])

[15] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology, Volume 2, p. 273)

[16] "Christ is not here to illuminate the deformity of a fallen world but rather to release a beautiful and holy world from bondage; most of all to release the human person from bondage and dissipate the shadows that lie across all creation." –Timothy Joyce (1868-1947)

Isaiah 65:17-25

Isaiah 65:17-25

¹⁷ For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; 

the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. 

¹⁸ But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; 

for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight. 

¹⁹ I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; 

no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress. 

²⁰ No more shall there be in it an infant that lives but a few days, 

or an old person who does not live out a lifetime; 

for one who dies at a hundred years will be considered a youth, 

and one who falls short of a hundred will be considered accursed. 

²¹ They shall build houses and inhabit them; 

they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. 

²² They shall not build and another inhabit; 

they shall not plant and another eat; 

for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be, 

and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands. 

²³ They shall not labor in vain, or bear children for calamity; 

for they shall be offspring blessed by the LORD-- and their descendants as well. 

²⁴ Before they call I will answer, 

while they are yet speaking I will hear. 

²⁵ The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, 

the lion shall eat straw like the ox; 

but the serpent-- its food shall be dust! 

They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the LORD.

Isaiah 65: 17-25, a segment that begins in verse 8, has the theme of the promise of the Lord. 

This passage reminds us of an important truth. God is the creator of all that is and is therefore constantly moving us to the new thing. When we work with God, we are working with one who wants a new heaven and new earth. If we think of nature at this point, science has shown us that the universe has continued to change from the initial “big bang.” The universe continues to change and expand. The heavens and the earth have been changing all along their history. Yet, the prophet focuses upon the concerns of the post-exilic community. Given the harshness of this world, if we believe in the providential care of God for this world, it will take a new heaven and earth to bring reconciliation and peace. His vision includes moving us toward the new. Jerusalem is recently destroyed and a shell of its former life. The city becomes an image of what God will do to bring renewal and transformation. In the Bible, Jerusalem is often set in contrast between its present conflicted reality and its symbol of a renewed people of God. He envisions a time without weeping, fullness of a human life, security, receiving the fruit of their labor, and the nearness of the Lord. He then offers the powerful vision of the wolf and lamb feeding together in peace. Isaiah 11:6-9, has a more elaborate image. It refers to the wolf and lamb, the leopard and young goat, the calf and the lion, and a little child leading them. This image of nature being at peace is a powerful one. He envisions that the redemption of humanity involves the rest of creation, rather than God taking humanity out of it. The vision has provided hope and inspiration to the people of God ever since. 

The poem distinguishes faithful from spurious Israel, a common feature of post-exilic Israel.  It clearly distinguishes between those within the community who remain faithful to the covenant and those who have abandoned it. The community may deserve to have God reject it, but it contains the blessing of the righteous.  The only specific sin mentioned here is superstitious worship.  This dual capacity of Jerusalem to function as both symbol and physical manifestation of hopes and ideals persists throughout the biblical record (see Revelation 21:2). The biblical record shows a tension between the present and the future, the earthly and the heavenly, the real and the ideal Jerusalem. This approaches what scholars call apocalyptic material. The salvation the prophet expects is beyond history.

¹⁷ For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. The creation of “new heavens and a new earth” marks a distinct shift from the preceding words of salvation and judgment directed toward, on the one hand, the Lord’s “chosen” (v. 9) and against, on the other, those “who forsake the Lord” (v. 11). New things in nature are part of the creative acts of God, and thus, evolution is possible to understand as the creative act of God. Yet, in eschatological expectation, we read of the creation of a new heaven and a new earth. All these works participate in the quality of divine action at the creation of the world.[1] Jewish expectation linked the hope of the reign of God to the idea of overturning of the natural conditions of human existence itself. Nothing less than a new heaven a new earth will actualize the reign of God.[2] Revelation 21:1 and 20:11 use the image as well. Typical of late prophecy/early apocalyptic, the imagery is of a sharp reward/punishment dichotomy, with clear demarcations between those in the Israelite community who remained faithful to the Yahwistic covenant and those who, in the prophet’s estimation, abandoned it. The contrast refers exclusively to the religious community of the post-exilic Israelites; the prophecy pays no attention at all to foreign nations, including Israel’s Babylonian captors and traditional adversaries such as Moab and Edom. The parallel between faithful and faithless no longer reflects the parallel distinction between Israel and the nations, a theme that runs prominently throughout the Hebrew Bible but between some elements within the Israelite worshiping community and other elements, also within that community. It is out of the cognitive dissonance of a covenantal community in conflict with itself that apocalyptic images of a new heaven and a new earth, rather than a rearranged and purified old earth, emerged. ¹⁸ Nevertheless, be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight. Attention shifts almost immediately to Jerusalem, scene of centuries of conflict and suffering, and the symbol of both Israel’s highest aspirations as a sociopolitical entity and religious epicenter, and its most humiliating failures and defeats. Jerusalem, its inhabitants and its environs will be the focus of the rest of the vision, expanding Jerusalem’s significance beyond the merely temporal-geographical, on the one hand, and concretizing the eschatological vision in mundane realities, on the other. This dual capacity of Jerusalem to function as both symbol and physical manifestation of hopes and ideals persists throughout the biblical record (see Revelation 21:2). In the words of one commentator on Jerusalem, “There has always been a tension between the present and the future, the earthly and the heavenly, the real and the ideal Jerusalem.” ¹⁹ I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; no more shall anyone hear the sound of weeping, or the cry of distress. Beginning with a vision of a new heaven and earth, the prophet focuses upon Jerusalem, the epicenter of Israelite national and religious life, and the symbol of Israel’s complicated relationship with its God. The outward and visible signs of the divine blessing include the cessation of weeping and cries of distress, which may be the result of such natural calamities as famine or, more likely, human-made calamities such as war. The prophetic imagery is deliberately vague to allow the widest possible resonance with hearers. The transformation about to take place involves not only the physical city of Jerusalem, but also and most especially its inhabitants.  For the purposes of the remainder of the oracle, the prophet presents inhabitants of the city simpliciter, with no mention of the “former things,” which included rancorous disagreement over the nature and future of the city (and, with it, the nation). The picture is an idealized representation of God’s chosen people in peace and prosperity in God’s chosen space. ²⁰ No more shall there be in it an infant that lives but a few days, or an old person who does not live out a lifetime; for people will consider one who dies at a hundred years as a youth, and they will consider one who falls short of a hundred accursed. It was precisely that tearfully unremarkable existence experienced by most people in most societies throughout most of history that the prophet sees coming to an imminent end. The regular ravages of warfare to which Israel was subjected by the dominant powers in the ancient Near East — the Egyptians, the Hittites, the Aramaeans, the Assyrians, and the Babylonians — meant that conquest, capture, despoilment, displacement, and slavery were ever-present realities for the ordinary populace. Further, high infant mortality was a way of life in pre-penicillin societies, so much so that one can assume its presence as background reality in most ancient literature, including the Bible, and the reference here to the infant living a few days is one of the few biblical acknowledgements of one of life’s harshest ancient realities. At the opposite end of the human life span is the old person who dies young at 100! ²¹ They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. Although much of the Israelite population, both before and after the exile, was rural and subsisted on agriculture, systems of commerce emerged with the rise of cities to support a non-farming urban population of court officials, bureaucrats, religious functionaries and artisans. The promise contained here reflects assurance of peace from war. ²² They shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat; for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be, and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands. This statement is a radical overturning of what, for ancient Israel, was simply normal life. ²³ They shall not labor in vain, or bear children for calamity; for they shall be offspring blessed by the Lord—and their descendants as well. ²⁴ Before they call I will answer, while they are yet speaking I will hear. The new earth will be a restored Paradise.  The Lord will be so near that God will answer their prayers before they speak them. God knows our need before we do; God hears us before we even have the good sense to call upon God. And often, God answers before we make the call. This may not bring world peace, but it sure brings inner peace. ²⁵ The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox; but the serpent—its food shall be dust! They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the Lord. The concluding images of the passage remind us of Isaiah 11:6-9, where the imagery is more elaborate. It refers to the wolf and lamb, the leopard and young goat, the calf and the lion, and a little child leading them. This image of nature being at peace is a powerful one. The images function here to broaden the scope of the salvific nature of the promised restoration to include not only the socio-political realities faced by the post-exilic Israelite community, but all of creation. Spurred by ecological concerns, biblical scholars in recent decades have begun to recognize that redemption in much of prophetic and eschatological literature encompasses all of creation and not simply its human component. The vision of a new heaven and a new earth is comprehensive, and there is no salvation for human beings apart from the natural world around them. The Lord saves humans with creation, not out of it.

The theme of this passage was captured in music (by Randall Thompson, "The Peaceable Kingdom," 1936), poetry (by Jon Silkin, The Peaceable Kingdom, 1954) and in the celebrated series of 62 paintings by Edward Hicks ("Peaceable Kingdom," begun in 1820 and continued, unfinished, until Hicks' death in 1849). Isaiah's vision of a new heaven and a new earth, rendered twice in the book that bears his name, has provided hope and inspiration to countless people in two of the world's great religions.

“I abhor the idea of a perfect world. It would bore me to tears,” said Shelby Foote. Some of us might think that way. Leibniz made the argument that this world is the best of all possible worlds. That thought discourages some of us. Some people do not see movies because they interfere with their daydreams (T. S. Eliot), which they obviously cherish. On the other hand, some of us like to let our minds wander. “It sure would be nice” … You can fill in the rest. Most of us can daydream a bit about how the world, or at least our part of the world, would be better if certain things fell into place. If you get into dreaming big, we call it “Utopia.” Such a vision might inspire us to act. 

According to Google, there are only seven communities worldwide named "Utopia," and six of them are in the United States. Actually, though, that statement is misleading. The Utopia in Kansas is now a ghost town, and larger communities with other names have subsumed the ones in Florida, New York and Illinois. A few people live in what was Utopia, Ohio, but the community by that name is now a historical memory. Utopia, Texas, is still there, although with a population of less than 250. The one not in the United States is in New South Wales, Australia, and it is little more than a spot on the map. 

It is significant that no utopias have really thrived. Sir Thomas More coined the word “utopia” in 1516. He used it as the name of a fictional island society in a novel he published with a long Latin title that translates On the Best State of a Republic and on the New Island of Utopia. His book depicted a communal society where the citizens shared everything in a way that everyone benefitted. To name the island, More combined two Greek words, topos, which means "place" or "where," and u or ou, which means "no" or "not," giving a literal meaning of "nowhere" or "not-place." His book was a sly criticism of the European society of his day. Among More's targets were the abuse of the royal prerogative and land enclosure practices that worked against the common good, both of which were major societal problems in 16th-century England. In More's book, they contrasted with the uncomplicated society of the Utopians. They worked six hours a day, beginning the day with three hours of lectures. He envisioned no private property. Leaders commit themselves to peace rather than war. The people do not focus on things like jewels and wealth. There were no lawyers. Religions respected their differences while recognizing what united them. 

Today, in keeping with More's original meaning, utopia denotes an imagined place or state of things in which everything is perfect. In fact, synonyms for utopia include "paradise," "Shangri-La," "nirvana" and "heaven on earth." Most of us would conclude that such a place or society is not achievable among humankind. The etymology of the word -- meaning "nowhere" or "not-place" -- tells the whole story. As one person put it, utopia "is nice to think about, but on this earth, you're not going to find it -- because wherever and whenever a human being enters a paradise, paradise is lost." Or, as someone else has said, "Abandon all hope of utopia -- there are people involved."

Nevertheless, in the decades preceding the Civil War, a certain idealism among some people led to the founding of communities called Utopia because the founders were intent on trying to create societies as close to perfect as they could. For example, the followers of French philosopher Charles Fourier in 1844 established Ohio's Utopia. He called for "intentional communities" based on equal sharing of resources and labor. The people who came to that Utopia were spiritualists who wanted a secluded area to practice their religion. The town was on the banks of the Ohio River, and unfortunately, many of its settlers died in a flash flood in 1847. Most of the survivors moved away. There are people living in the area today, but they are not communalists and the town, as such, has become a roadside marker placed by the Ohio Historical Society. After telling of the flood and the deaths, the marker includes this sentence: "Thus, the idea of the perfect society, or utopia, died."

My point here, though, is that such a dream of a better place, even a perfect place, can inspire people to change their lives in accord with that vision. One writer put it this way. 

Utopia is on the horizon. I move two steps closer; it moves two steps further away. I walk another 10 steps and the horizon runs 10 steps further away. As much as I may walk, I'll never reach it. 

 So what's the point of utopia? 

 The point is this: to keep walking.[3]

 

This passage lifts up a vision of a new world that is not so much about us building a perfect world as keeping before us the world God will bring. “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done” we pray in the Lord’s Prayer. Knowing the world God will bring should inspire us today to move toward what God wants. I invite you to consider a few points.

The agenda here, for one thing, is honesty. We are not to conclude by looking around us that things ought to be this way. 

 

Children and youth are at risk. 

Alienation between differing political visions is high today.

An Internet meme

I refuse to hate religious people or atheist. 

… black, white, Asian, Hispanic

… Trump or Clinton voters

… Gay People

… Men or Women

I refuse to hate

 

We need to look around us and see what is there. It is very easy to ignore the suffering of the marginalized and oppressed and the difficulties of those with less than ourselves. Moreover, where there is ignorance, there is indifference; and where there is indifference, there is intolerance. Where there is intolerance, there is injustice.

Isaiah shows us the dream, a device not unlike what Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. used in his “I Have a Dream” speech. The dream makes it clear that the reality we experience now is not what we want for ourselves, or what God wants for us. The dream keeps before us a reminder of how far we yet must go. So when we look around us — that is honesty.

The agenda here, for another thing, is hope. The author points his readers and us to a better day. Today’s reality is not truly satisfying, today’s injustice is not acceptable, today’s unhappiness is not permanent, and today’s experience of life is not the end of the story. God’s dream has not come true in the world today — that is correct. Isaiah gives us this vision to keep us focused on something beyond the reality of our present unhappiness, and he promises that God will offer us a peaceful kingdom in surprising times and places. Probably when we least expect it.

David Argo is a Methodist pastor who spent his teenage years in a turbulent relationship with his mother. The two of them felt quite distant from one another. Then, when he was a young adult, they battled over which of them had the correct view of the world — a battle that led to an uneasy truce. As they both grew older, they invested less and less energy in who was right and who was wrong, but they never really felt a sense of peace in their relationship. Then, when she was 92, David’s mother suffered a massive stroke. The doctor said that she might not live for long, so David traveled across several states to be with her. He sat by her bed, not knowing if she were aware of his presence or not. For several days, he talked to her, sang hymns to her, read the Bible to her, prayed, and cried. The hospice staff was amazed that she was continuing to live. Finally, one of them said, “We think she just enjoys having you here.” David realized that he had not been in the same room with her for entire days since the time he was an infant. Somewhere in those nights and days, he realized that “the wolf and the lamb were feeding together.” Of course, he was not sure exactly who the wolf was ... and who the lamb was.

David received an experience of God’s glorious new creation as he sat by his mother’s bed. He came to understand that there are people that he needs to sit with, spend time with, and find a way to see more clearly. Even if he once saw his mother as an enemy, he has found that a shared hunger can allow a peaceful new creation to unfold — even here, even now.

In a democracy, election season could cause us to pause and listen to the heart, dream, and desires of those with whom we differ. We can sit with them and hear them in a new way.

We need to step back from our position and realize that our vision of utopia may conflict with others. Recall the scene in Miss Congeniality (2000), starring Sandra Bullock and William Shatner, playing contestant Gracie Hart and emcee Stan Fields, respectively. The pageant begins, and when Gracie is interviewed on stage in front of a live television audience, Fields asks her: “What is the one most important thing that our society needs?” Gracie says, “That would be harsher punishment for parole violators, Stan … and world peace!” Thunderous applause ensues.

So, when we look beyond us — that is hope. If hope is a waking dream (Aristotle), then maybe hope keeps us alert to the ways in which we can make the vision of God for this world a reality. Finally, the prophet gives us a vision of God who will bring this “dream” to pass. The introduction of this kingdom is an entirely God-centered event. Let us review: no weeping, super-longevity, housing for everyone, vineyards and plenty of fruit, descendants will be blessed, God will hear prayers before they are spoken, the wolf and the lamb will “feed together,” and the “lion shall eat straw like the ox.”

Okay, then. Only God can do this. The reminder is important because it is so easy to believe that God has totally lost control. Things are out of hand. Where is God? How can there be a God? The dream machine of the prophet evokes the image of a God who is very much hands-on, a God who will bring to pass what we cannot do for ourselves. This reminder is important in an age that, if political leaders with a coercive mindset can have a utopia in their heads that they hope to impose politically and economically upon society. Such political ideologies are dangerous they may have a genuine belief that they are well motivate and that the goal is peaceful and just, even while they engage in political behaviors that intimidate with shaming, canceling from social media, limiting the availability of opposing views in the public square, using law enforcement agencies to intimidate the opposition, and even having a contingent that intimidates with violence in the streets. 

So, when we look at the world with new eyes — that is God! A God who works with us to bring about the will of God — on earth as it is in heaven. To recap: 

When we look around us — that is honesty. 
When we look beyond us — that is hope.
When we look at the world with new eyes — that is God!

However, for now, we can express our gratitude that God, far from being distant and removed from our reality, is intimately involved in such a way as to bring into our reality a world of harmony and peace. And when it comes, it will be a dream come true.

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[1] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 41.

[2] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 584.

[3] --Eduardo Galeano.