From a seminar at Bethel Seminary on Uses of the OT in the N
In Revelation, John reiterates many of the promises that God gives in the Old Testament. For example, just as God promises to “create a new heaven and a new earth” in Isaiah, John sees the “new Jerusalem” coming down from heaven and hears Jesus proclaim, “Behold, I make all things new” (Rev 21:5). Yet, as with the OT prophecies, Revelation describes something that is yet to come—something that will occur in the future. So, if we already have the yet-future promises given to us in the Old Testament, why do we need the promises in Revelation? Is Revelation telling us something that the Old Testament isn’t already telling us?
Yes, indeed, the appointment of God’s son as “the heir of all things,” who is the very “radiance of” his glory “and the exact imprint of his nature” (Heb 1:2-3). Notwithstanding the promise of a New Heaven and New Earth” in both Is 65:17-25 and Rev 21, Graeme Goldsworthy is on to something in his observation that in light of “the two-stage exile to Assyria and Babylon,” the promises of God issued in Isaiah did not come to fruition in Jewish history (outside of Jesus, that is) but only remain future oriented. Goldsworthy, noting that “while Israel clung to the promises that God’s glory would again return,” ‘nowhere in second temple literature [except, of course, for the New Testament] is it asserted that this has happened [the return to God’s glory to Israel, as depicted in Isaiah 65]; therefore, it still remains in the future. The exile is not really over” (Goldsworthy, Christ-Centered Biblical Theology, 130. The embedded Wright citation is from The New Testament and the People of God, 269).
As noted in the question, the promises of New Heaven and New Earth in both Isaiah and Revelation are yet to be realized, so is there a difference in the promises of Isaiah and Revelation that makes a difference? While the answer may be obvious based on the citation from Hebrews, which could be gleaned as well from the prologue to John’s gospel, can we say something more precise about any difference that actually makes a difference?
Let’s address the seriousness of the question—the futurity of God’s kingdom as eschatological promise—as Eden restored and transformed. Interpreting Revelation from the perspective of Boyarin, it’s plausible to see the last book of the NT as an early Christian midrash writ large on Isaiah’s most far reaching proclamations, in which God’s servant will “be a light for the nations that my salvation may reach to the ends of the world” (Is 49:6). While there are technical and highly precise definitions of what qualifies as a legitimate midrash, Boyrain’s more general (and generous) interpretation, cited below, allows it to be instructive here.
“Although a whole library could (and has been) written on midrash, for the present purposes, it will be sufficient to define it as a mode of biblical reading that brings disparate passages and verses together in the elaboration of new narratives.”
Further:
“The rabbis who produced the midrashic way of reading considered the Bible one enormous signifying system, any part of which could be taken as commenting on or supplementing any other part” (The Jewish Gospels, 76).
Thus, a Jewish scholar might say something along the following: The second temple followers of The Way created a messianic figure through a two-step already/not yet eschatological promise through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, who, in his earthly ministry was at most an ambiguous figure who some viewed as a prophet, some as a messiah and others as a charlatan. While there is much in the life and the heroic death of Jesus of Nazareth to admire—and yes, even to emulate—nonetheless, since there are so many of the prophetic promises that he did not fulfill—we can only wait for the true messiah. In creating a two-stage fulfillment promise, followers of The Way created a safety hedge in which the full reality of their messiah would only be fulfilled when the new heavens and new earth finally descends. We have a different understanding of the role of the messiah.
An in-depth response is beyond the bounds of what can be addressed in this format, yet a few things can be said. While Boyaron makes an excellent case in illustrating how some of the most cherished Christian beliefs, even the Incarnation, have their roots in the broader second temple literature, history, and theological traditions, it is in the composite depiction of Jesus the Christ throughout the NT that speaks of his authenticity at least for the millions that have been so persuaded over the centuries. Boyrain brings much astute scholarship in making the case that, in one sense, there was nothing new in such second temple notions of the merger of messianic conquering Davidic king (son of God) and Isaianic Suffering Servant, as well as an incarnated son of man, as depicted in Daniel. N. T. Wright has argued similarly. The novum of tremendous proportions, however, is their merging in the singular figure of Jesus Christ, when combined with the life, teaching, healing, and miracles of Jesus as depicted in the gospels and the entirety of the insights on the relationship between the Risen One and the life of his disciples in the various church communities as highlighted in the letters.
What stands out for me is the authenticity of the depicted character, as summarized in the early NT liturgy (Phil 2:5-11). If in this character, the exact imprint of God’s nature is enfleshed, we do have a high priest who embraces us more intimately than we or our closest companions could possibly do. More could be said. In the final analysis, it is a matter of faith and calling.
“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit he cannot enter the kingdom of God…. Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again. The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit” Viewed (John 3:5, 7-8 .
Stated otherwise, the authenticity of the already resonates with the profound depths in what is anticipated in the not yet. For "faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen (Heb 11:1).
Viewed in a more contemporary voice,
“There is no continuous movement from an objective inquiry into the life of Jesus to a knowledge of him as the Christ who is our Lord. Only a decision of the self, a leap of faith, a metanoia or revolution of the mind [and, of course, a calling, itself, from the Spirit] can lead from observation to participation and from observed to lived history. And this is true of all other events in sacred history (H. R. Niebuhr, 1941, The Meaning of Revelation, 83).
No comments:
Post a Comment