Alison Sailer worries that our optimism may lure us into inaction

Concerning the optimism or pessimism implied by certain eschatological views, what Christians believe about the power and success of the gospel in the world ultimately determines one’s quality of life as a believer.

End times views are sometimes stereotypical, I realize. Even within each of the seemingly incompatible “isms,” though still containing wiggle-room, people of the same general view still zealously differ on specifics. We cannot forget, however, that most importantly what binds Christians together in the first place is our beloved faith in Christ, the focus on whom should never be shifted in favor of such things as the date of the rapture or Armageddon. Then eschatology can get petty.

Still, it cannot be denied that eschatology does consciously and unconsciously impact such things as how we view the Dominion Mandate in Genesis or the Great Commission in Matthew. What are the implications of believing Christ is coming back tomorrow versus the possibility of his return in another thousand years or so?

All Christians would probably admit if truly curious and open-minded to the truth of the Bible rather than clinging to personal dogmas that their own personal convictions about eschatology probably still hoard a few reservations, and thankfully the salvation of souls does not depend upon what particular “ism” we cling to. But is eschatology just a bunch of worthless arguments?

On the surface, it may appear that if one believes, say, premillennialism, or some pessimistic view of the end of the world which emphasizes a “rapture-ready” mindset, that a greater urgency exists to evangelize or live a life of perfect holiness (which, of course, would be fruitless anyway since all the world is going to hell in a hand basket). The more Christians who think like this, the better. Unfortunately, while a call to immediate service is wonderful to hope for, it is surprising that no one does anything.

On the other hand, it may appear that if one believes, say, postmillennialism, or some optimistic view of the sovereignty of God and the inevitable flourish of “the kingdom of heaven” like a grain of mustard seed, a bit of leaven, a good sower, or a dragnet cast into the sea, that devoted Christians would confidently and joyfully place their hope in the assuredness of God’s redemptive plan for all of creation. We have all the time in the world to work on evangelizing the nations and we have the time to do it well without going insane. It is still a surprise that no one does anything.

What would happen if humans knew exactly what God had in mind for the conclusion of history? What would happen if we understood every prophecy, every vision, every divine revelation in Scripture? These questions remind me of the crucifixion scene in which the Jews taunted Christ as He hung nailed to the cross, saying to Him, “If you are really the Christ, come down from the cross and prove it! Then we will believe you!” Christ did reveal Himself as God in multiple ways, but no matter what extra miracle He would have performed, even if had He called upon his angels to rescue Him from death, they still wouldn’t have believed because of the hardness of their hearts. Even if Christ revealed to Christians the day and hour of His return, I don't think we would be any more particularly motivated to live “in earnestness” as devotees of premillennialism claim or “in hope” as postmillennialists preach.

It is funny, then, how a pessimistic view of eschatology seeks to promote an optimistic lifestyle, and an optimistic view of eschatology often results in the appearance of a pessimistic lifestyle. But there is a difference between these two dilemmas. Both sides fail to realize the implications of their convictions; however, the former is bad theology and the latter is simply hypocrisy. If the world is rapidly spiraling into oblivion, why would anyone want to polish the brass on a sinking ship? But if Christ promised His followers that “on this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell will not prevail against it,” what kind of Christians are we who remain stuck on our asses?

Fortunately for us, God enjoys working across large timetables through good and evil, the rise and the decline of cultures, the restoration and the falling away. This is history. This is the reality of the redemptive narrative. Where are humans in this story? Are we lazy or are we impatient?

And still, no one does anything.

Alison Sailer lives in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Expect to be reading more from her in the near future.

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