When Heaven Comes to Earth

In a previous post, I argued that the Bible is essentially an account of Heaven coming to Earth. From Eden, to Jesus, to the New Jerusalem - from the indwelling of the Spirit in the Temple, to Its indwelling in man, to its indwelling in the whole world - the story of the Bible is one of the spiritual colliding, intermingling, and uniting with the physical. In light of this idea, I'd now like to evaluate two prevailing strands of theology, each of which fixates on either Heaven or Earth while neglecting, or even disdaining, the other.

According to the first worldview, our souls and/or spirits will one day be evacuated from this temporary nuisance called Earth to live forever in Heaven. The Earth, in turn, will either burn up or fade into irrelevance. Contrary to this view, the picture painted in the Bible is one of Heaven coming to Earth - not us going to Heaven.

There are two parts to this distinction. The first is the direction of movement: Heaven to Earth, not Earth to Heaven. In fact, when the Earth was first created, it was not strictly separate from Heaven; only after mankind sinned did such a separation fully emerge. Even then, God promised that He would one day dwell on the Earth again - a promise which was maintained through His indwelling in the the tabernacle/temple and fulfilled in Jesus, who came from Heaven to Earth. In turn, Jesus promised that He would one day dwell on the Earth again - a promise which is guaranteed through His indwelling in us and will be fulfilled in the New Jerusalem, which will come from Heaven to Earth. This pattern of Heaven coming to Earth, of the two being reconciled - of God dwelling with us here - is the exact inverse of the common preoccupation with 'going to Heaven' and leaving the Earth behind.

The other part of the distinction is that the Bible includes all of the Earth in its saga of reconciliation, not just mankind. To be sure, people have a special place in creation; we are even apportioned our own creation story, in which we receive "the Breath of Life" (Genesis 1-2). Notice, though, that we are created for the Earth (specifically, to tend it) and from the Earth (literally, from the soil). Notice, too, that animals are also described as possessing the Breath of Life, for they, too, are conscious beings. As I've elaborated elsewhere, moreover, God's promise of reconciliation is imparted to all of creation, not just us. Mirroring the two creation stories, the Abrahamic covenant on which theology usually focuses was actually preceded by the Noahaic covenant; and while the latter pertained specifically to man, the former pertained to all of creation. As a result, not just us, but all the Earth eagerly awaits its reconciliation with Heaven (Romans 8). We have been made into New Creations (2 Corinthians 5:17), but we represent only the first fruits of the New Creation (James 1:18; Romans 8:23); for He is making all things new (Revelation 21:5).

The second group that I would like to address is at fault for trying to build Heaven on Earth - rather than seeing the Kingdom of Heaven come to Earth, which should be the goal (Matthew 6:19-13; Luke 11:2-4).

This view also has the direction of movement backwards, but misconstrues Heaven rather than Earth. Its principal omission is that Heaven is a Kingdom, and as such is established and governed by a King. The Earth is merely His footstool (Isaiah 66:1); and will it only become his throne when Heaven comes to Earth (Revelation 21; Ezekiel 40-48; Acts 17:24). Even Solomon, in all his wisdom, questioned whether the temple he was building could really contain the Kingdom, power, and glory of Heaven that we still ask would come to Earth (1 Kings 8:27; 2 Chronicles 2:6, 6:18; Matthew 6:13).

As illustrated by the fate of the Tower of Babel, trying to reach Heaven from Earth, or trying to fabricate the former on the latter, is utterly futile (Genesis 11; see also Psalm 127:1). It is also satanic, since Satan is the world's incumbent ruler (2 Corinthians 4:4; John 12:31). Indeed, the original sin - which Satan himself incited, and which precipitated the separation of Heaven and Earth - is the deception that we can be like God on our own terms, that we can set our own rules. It not the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, which Adam and Eve so fatefully chose, that represents Heaven on Earth; rather it is the Tree of Life, which was guarded by the cherubim after the Fall (Genesis 3:24) but which will be multiplied in the New Jerusalem, when Heaven and Earth are fully reconciled (Revelation 22:2).

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When Jacob envisioned angels ascending and descending on a ladder between Heaven and Earth, when the God of Heaven was standing on the Earth beside him, he called that place the House of God (Genesis 28:10-17). As symbolised by the very shape of the cross, this intersection between Heaven and Earth - between physical and spiritual, secular and sacred, natural and supernatural - is the overriding theme of the Bible. Because God became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14), we can become the House of God (Hebrews 3:6) and one day see that role extended to all of creation (Revelation 21-22).

So often, though, we are prone to missing half of the picture: either we are 'pie-in-the-sky' Christians obsessed with the end of the world, or we are 'head-in-the-sand' Christians pretending like the world is fine and dandy. The reality of the Bible invalidates both of these positions: Heaven and Earth are reconciled, but only by Heaven coming to Earth. It is only then that we can dwell in the House of God forever (Psalm 23:6).

Ontological Randomness as Evidence for God

At a macrocosmic scale, the universe is far more ordered that we would expect if it were an accident. I could talk, for example, about cosmological constants, the repeated geometric patterns found in nature, and the unique suitability of the earth for human life. The apparently designed nature of the universe is a common (and powerful) argument for the existence of God.


On the other hand, at a microcosmic scale, quantum physics has discovered that the universe is fundamentally random, in stark contrast to its macro-level orderliness. I wonder if, ironically, this also constitutes evidence for the existence of God. My reasoning here stems from a distinction between ontological randomness and epistemological randomness.


When we think about randomness, we are usually envisioning epistemological randomness. For example, we consider the outcome of a dice-roll to be random because we lack the means of foreseeing it. Nevertheless, the outcome is not ontologically random, since it is determined by  physical forces such as gravity, inertia, and friction. If it were possible to measure and calculate how these forces were acting on the die while it was being rolled, we would in fact be able to foresee the outcome.


Ontological randomness, by contrast, refers to a situation in which the outcome is not mechanistically determined. This sort of randomness is more or less impossible to imagine, or at least intuit; and yet quantum physics tells us that it holds the universe together. My modest suggestion is that it is actually God who is holding the universe together (Colossians 1:17) - that what appears to be ontologically random is actually determined by God.


I am not sufficiently educated in science, let alone quantum physics, to be able to flesh-out or even sense-check this idea; but I suppose the beauty of the internet is that I don't have to be.

One Day at a Time: Redeeming the Eternal Now

The opening chapter of the Bible describes how God created the universe in seven days (well, six if you exclude the Sabbath). I find this account intriguingly circular, since a 'day' (and indeed time itself) is a feature of the very universe that was being created. Think of it this way: if a 'day' is defined as a rotation of the earth around the sun, how could God have created the earth and the sun within a matter of days? The answer must be that there were Days before there were days (see Daniel 7). In other words, a 'day' is a divine, spiritual phenomenon, and not only an earthly or physical one.


Indeed, the Bible depicts each day as a miniature life, a life within life. We are instructed to ask for daily bread (Matthew 6:11), to carry our cross daily (Luke 9:23), and to choose each day whom we will serve (Joshua 24:15; see also Hebrews 3:7-15). Characters throughout the Bible wake up early when they have an important mission to complete (e.g., Joshua 6:15; 2 Chronicles 29:20; Mark 16:2), as if they were awakened by God Himself (Isaiah 60:1). His mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-23; see also Psalm 30:5, 46:5), and we must be wary of letting our anger outlast the day (Ephesians 4:26); for if each day is a microcosmic life, then each night is a microcosmic death, which must be fully completed if are to be reborn anew when the next day comes (2 Corinthians 4:16). In sum, a Biblical perspective conceives each and every day as sacred.


If each day is sacred, then so too are its circadian rhythms and quotidian activities. The book of Ecclesiastes contains perhaps the most lucid exposition of this insight. In a particularly relevant passage, the exceedingly wise Solomon declares: "Behold, what I have seen to be good and fitting is to eat and drink and find enjoyment in all the toil with which one toils under the sun the few days of his life that God has given him, for this is his lot. Everyone also to whom God has given wealth and possessions and power to enjoy them, and to accept his lot and rejoice in his toil—this is the gift of God. For he will not much remember the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with joy in his heart." (Ecclesiastes 5:18; see also 2:16, 3:1-8, 6:3). I cite this passage in particular because it reveals so much about the holiness of days (i.e. daily holiness, i.e. daily wholeness). According to Solomon, a meaningful life can only be attained if we embrace and even rejoice in the mundane - in our eating, drinking, and working - rather than trying to change our future (out "lot") or fretting about the past ("the days or [our] li[ves]"). We don't have many days, he tells us, so we should treat each day as special. As the psalmist expressed it, "This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it" (Psalm 118:24).


Solomon's wisdom betrays a fundamental yet neglected fact of reality, namely that we can only ever live in the immediate present. Just as I can only ever be in one place at a given time, so I can only ever be in one time at a given place. Of course, I can return to the same place at different times; but thanks to the inextricability of time from space, there is a sense in which I would be 'elsewhere' in the universe if I were to do so. If I am here, I am here now. This would still be true, moreover, even if time travel were possible: even if I could jump to a different time, that time would simply become my 'now' rather than remaining part of my past or my future. Indeed, every point in my past was once my 'now', while every point in my future will eventually be my 'now'.


Solomon seemed to appreciate that, although we can only live now, we often try to live in the past or the future. Perhaps we can't dislodge a sense of regret over a past decision, constantly toying with futile speculations over 'what if'; or perhaps we are fixated on the future outcomes that such a decision could potentially entail. Whether we cling to a time that is no longer our 'now' or one that is not yet our 'now', the result tends to be counterproductive for our present-day 'now' - which will eventually become our past, and which our future will eventually become. This may be why the Bible exhorts us not to "call to mind the former things, Or ponder things of the past" (Isaiah 43:18), nor to be "anxious about tomorrow" (Matthew 6:33; see also James 4:14). Rather, our perspective is to be at once momentary and eternal; we should view each day on Earth in light of Heaven, and even pray that Heaven would come to Earth in our day-to-day lives (Matthew 6:8-10).


With that said, Solomon perceived that not only are the moments which compose each day sacred, but so too are the larger units of time which are composed of days, and ultimately moments - weeks, months, years, seasons, and so on, all of which contain their own divine rhythms (e.g. Ecclesiastes 3). The week, of course, featured in the creation story along with the day, with the number of constituent days (7) symbolising perfection and completion. The seventh day of the Sabbath rest is worthy of particular note, since Christ has allowed to enjoy that 'day' every day (Hebrews 3:7-4:13). Prophetic passages, too, are often denominated in terms of days, weeks, and years. Unfortunately, however, many Christians with an eschatological penchant have interpreted these scriptures as merely timelines of past or future events. The resultant perspective, which conceives us as merely waiting for events to transpire, just as past events have transpired, is exactly the opposite of the one I am proposing here. On the contrary, I would argue that prophetic chronologies are more than timelines: like all scriptures, they relate to 'the present day' not only by virtue of what has happened or what will happen, but also by what simply 'happens' [1].


To take an elementary example, you can never have 'eternal life' in the future, since you can never live in the future; you can only ever live in the ever-moving 'now'. There is a real yet paradoxical sense, therefore, in which our 'now' is at once transitory and permanent. Although time cannot hold eternity, perhaps the timeless moment can. The same could be said for the spiritual unit of a day, which for God is equivalent to "a thousand years", i.e. an indefinitely long period of time (2 Peter 3:8). Obviously, in a fallen world, our days are not as they should be, not least because they are finite; hence Paul, after reminding the Ephesians that they are "children of light", implores them to "[make] the best use of of the time, because the days are evil" (Ephesians 5:16, emphasis added). On the other hand, it is a particular day, the so-called "Day of the Lord", which will herald the end of time itself (e.g. Amos 5:18-20; Acts 2:20; 2 Peter 3:10). This "Great Day" - the "last day" to end all days - will herald the eternal day (Revelation 22), to which Christ has already begun to awaken us (1 Thessalonians 5:1-11; Romans 13:12; 2 Peter 1:19).

When I was thinking of a way to describe this perspective, the phrase that came to mind was "the eternal now". Hoping that I had coined this pithy expression, I then proceeded to Google it, as one does. Alas, it turned out that "the eternal now" was already taken - by the perennially annoying New Age movement, no less. Notwithstanding its occultic connotations, however, I still believe the phrase is worth salvaging. Indeed, part of what I've tried to do in this post is provide a Biblical commentary on secular or satanic pretensions of "living in the here and now", "seizing the day", or "taking each day as it comes". These practices are not in themselves errant; it's just that they are futile without Christ, who brings us into the eternal day (Isaiah 9:2; Matthew 4:14-16; Luke 1:76-79). By the same token, I have also issued an admonishment to those Christians who would dispose of such practices altogether. Surely 'living in eternity now', a pet phrase of Christian teachers, means exactly that - living in eternity now.




Note

[1] Indeed, the various Greek words associated with the 'end times', such as eschatos, telos, and synteleias, as well as the Hebrew word eth, are translated elsewhere in the Bible to refer not only to temporal finality, but also to timelessness, seasonality, consummation, or spatial finality.

Truth, Freedom, and the Holy Spirit

The Prophet Isaiah poses a rhetorical question when he asks, "Who has measured the Spirit of the LORD, or what man shows him His counsel?" (Isaiah 40:13). The Apostle Paul provides a tautological answer when he states, "no one comprehends the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God" (1 Corinthians 2:11).

He goes on to affirm that without the Spirit, we are blind to spiritual Truth, but with the Spirit, the secrets of God are revealed to us (1 Corinthians 2:6-16). The Spirit thus removes the veil between us and God, allowing us to enter His presence and behold His glory. In the process, as we receive the mind of Christ, we become transformed into the image of Christ (2 Corinthians 3:12-16).

A dramatic shift in  behaviour naturally follows from this transformation, for we become motivated and enabled to live, walk, and worship in obedience - to do what only Christ could do (Romans 8:1-12; Galatians 5:16-25; John 4:24). Indeed, when the Holy Spirit becomes one with our human spirit, It allows us to take captive our own thoughts - the elusive 'holy grail' of philosophy (1 Corinthians 6:17; 2 Corinthians 10:5; Proverbs 20:27). 

It is in this way that the Truth of the Spirit (or, equivalently, the Spirit of Truth) gives us freedom - freedom from sin, death, and condemnation (2 Corinthians 3:17, Romans 8:13; John 8:31-36). I find it significant in this respect that one of the articles of the Armour of God is the Belt of Truth, with which we are to gird our loins (Ephesians 6:14) - according to Paul, we require Truth if we are to walk or run unfettered by our own outward vestments.

The world seeks freedom without Truth, but what it finds is merely enslavement to sin (John 8:34, 14:6; Romans 6:16; 2 Peter 2:19). It is only through His Spirit that we can know the Truth that sets us free; it only then that we can be "free indeed".

Biblical Perfectionism

I have learned the hard way that perfectionism is a dangerous personality trait. As imperfect people in an imperfect world, any aspirations we may have towards achieving perfection are bound to be frustrated; as the Psalmist says, "I have seen the limit of all perfection" (Psalm 119:96).  When that happens, we perfectionists are prone to obsession, building an ersatz edifice of control around a particular aspect of our lives in which we deem that perfection may, just may, be attainable, if only we exert enough of our willpower. Those pursuits become our gods, our idols, our objects of worship; and like all false gods, they always fail us, leaving a trail of collateral damage in their wake.


With all of that said, I believe that my desire for perfection is implanted by God. After all, God Himself demands perfection. The Law requires that we be holy - i.e. perfect - in order to withstand His holy presence (e.g. Leviticus 20:26), and only a perfect lamb is acceptable for the sacrifice that compensates for our imperfections (e.g. Exodus 12:5). Although Jesus - the Lamb of God and the only perfect man - acted as the once-and-for-all sacrifice (Isaiah 53:7; John 1:29; Hebrews 10), He Himself bids us to "be perfect, as your Heavenly Father is perfect" (Matthew 5:48; see also 1 Peter 1:14-19).


How to resolve this paradox? How, in other words, to be perfect? I believe that there are two ways by which we can seek perfection. The first way, the way of the world, is to strive to be "like God" (Genesis 3:4), to build monuments to our own our selfish ambitions based on foundations of fallenness (Genesis 11:1-8). Like the Tower of Babel, such endeavours are fated to failure, death, and destruction (James 3:14-16).


The second way, the Way that is Christ, is to cease striving and simply obey (Matthew 26:39-44; Mark 14:36; Luke 22:42) - to submit to His good and perfect will (Romans 12:2). This Way requires us to abandon our quest for self-perfection, which is anyway a satanic deception, and to instead acknowledge that every good and perfect gift comes from God (James 1:17), whose power is perfected in our weakness (2 Corinthians 12:7-10). With Christ as the perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:1-2; see also 5:9; 7:11,28; 10), we "become" His righteousness (1 Corinthians 5:21) - we become not "like God", a mere counterfeit of holiness, but rather "perfectly one with God" (John 17:23).


The point of all this is that perfectionism is part of God's perfect creation, but, like the rest of that creation, can nevertheless be corrupted. He has placed eternity in our hearts, and only the perfect will endure for eternity, so it is a good sign that we desire perfection (1 Corinthians 13:10). It is also a good sign that we find this desire frustrating, since it can never be fully satisfied in this world (Ecclesiastes 3:11); it is only when the perfect comes that we shall we fully satisfied.

Biblical Manhood

I find the world's definition of manhood to be as pathetic as it is deplorable. As the election of Donald Trump has demonstrated, the 'alpha male' of Western culture is characterised by a sociopathic aggrandizement of self and a callous disdain for others. Inheriting male genitalia (and, in Donald's case, a fair bit of wealth) is apparently considered sufficient qualification for leadership (especially, in Donald's case, if the genitalia are self-reportedly large).

For a long time, my contempt for worldly manhood led me to reject the idea of manhood altogether, construing gender as an exclusively sexual phenomenon. To the extent that gender roles existed, they were, in my view, merely corollaries of physical differences, the most obvious example being the maternal role of the mother. Accordingly, I found many of the Bible's teachings on gender - particularly those pronounced by the Apostle Paul, which appeared to reflect the ethic of machismo championed by the world - deeply disagreeable.

Recently, however, I have begun to realise that some of my own character flaws stem from an incomplete progression into manhood. I have begun to realise, moreover, that the Biblical model of gender is exactly the piece I have been missing. In this post, I'd like to present what I have interpreted that model to be, and how I think it differs from the (Western) world's model - which, by the way, I reject even more emphatically in light of my newfound understanding.


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Created in the image of God, Adam was the first man, who nevertheless chose to be ungodly - and consequently unmanly - by failing to fulfill the role for which he was created (Genesis 1-3). He was given no small measure of responsibility over the Garden of Eden; yet he failed to take responsibility for his actions, hiding in the bushes instead of facing the consequences of his disobedience. Just as importantly, he failed to take responsibility for the leadership of his family, allowing his wife be deceived and even proceeding to blame her for his own deception. Adam's son Cain would later mimic this behaviour, impudently deflecting responsibility for his brother's whereabouts and welfare (Genesis 4:9). For our purposes, the key lesson of Adam's story is that, in diametric opposition to the world's paradigm, the characteristic of being strong-willed corresponds to the characteristic of being unmanly. Adam failed to fulfil his role as man precisely because he was determined to pursue his own will. He was, in Trump's verbiage, a 'loser'.

Contrast the worldly model of manliness exemplified by Adam (and Trump) with the Biblical model of manliness exemplified by Jesus - the only 'self-made man' to ever have existed. Jesus exhibits a somewhat paradoxical character, at least from the world's perspective. He was confrontational when He needed to be, furiously driving out profiteers from the temple and overtly insulting the scribes and the Pharisees (Matthew 21:12-13, 23:1-36). On the other hand, he avoided confrontation when the situation required - witness His refusal to defend Himself before Pilot (Matthew 27; Mark 15; Luke 23; John 18), not to mention His constant refrainment from obliterating his enemies (Matthew 26:47-53). He did not hesitate to rustle jimmies, even to the extent of getting Himself killed; yet He was gracious and compassionate, even to the extent of forgiving those who killed Him (Luke 23:34). He was no respecter of persons, but His loyalty to God was absolute (Matthew 22:16; Mark 12:14; Luke 20:21).

Crucially, unlike the "first Adam", Jesus, the "last Adam", was man enough to submit His will to that of His Father (1 Corinthians 15:22, 45-49). Whereas Adam failed to take responsibility even for his own actions in the Garden of Eden, in the Garden of Gethsemane Jesus chose to take responsibility for the actions of all mankind. Whereas Adam introduced death to the world by failing to choose the Tree of Life, Jesus chose to die on a tree so that the world may once again have life. Whereas Adam's death was the result of his disobedience, Jesus was obedient to the point of death (Philippians 2:8). Thanks to that great act of heroism, we can be recreated in the image of the Son, who in turn is the very image of the Father (Colossians 1:15).

Speaking of the relationship of the Son with the Father, the Biblical man is defined by his role not only as a male, but also as an adult - which, paradoxically, involves becoming more like a child. While adults tend to be cynical, proud, and neurotic, children are trusting, teachable, and playful. It is no coincidence that the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these (Matthew 19:13-15; Luke 18:15-17), for they are more prepared to lead others to Christ rather than to themselves (Luke 22:26). To be sure, we are not meant to be childish in the sense of being ignorant (1 Corinthians 3, 13:11; Hebrews 5:11-14); we are to be wise as serpents but innocent as doves (Matthew 10:16). Indeed, we should be humble enough to learn from our elders, just as we teach, including by example, those less mature than ourselves (1 Timothy 5:1-3; Ephesians 6:1-3; 1 Peter 5:5).

This model of leadership stands in stark contrast to that of the world, afflicted as it is by family breakdown and obsessed as it with societal redefinition. What we observe instead is a devastating lack of parental guidance and positive role models - particularly for young, impressionable males, who end up trapped in a constant state of immaturity. Though they are immature, however, they are not innocent; they assume the worst aspects of both childhood and adulthood, leading to murder, rape, and all the other evils associated with worldly masculinity.

True manliness is not only profanely distorted by the world; it is also fiercely and shrewdly resisted by the world's ruler (1 Peter 5:8). The figure of King Herod - "that fox", as Jesus refers to him in Luke 13:32 - personifies this satanic resistance. Herod was so addicted to power, and so paranoid about losing it, that he resorted to infanticide. Of course, the very person whom he strove to kill, namely Jesus, displayed the opposite sort of behaviour: "though He was in the form of God, [He] did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born [as a child] in the likeness of men" (Philippians 2:6). Later, Herod was seduced into beheading John the Baptist - another exemplar of Godly manhood, who not only defied the ways of the world but resolved to change them - having already flouted John's advice by joining himself to his brother's wife (Matthew 14:1-12; Mark 6:14-29; Luke 9:7-9). Before the crucifixion, we read that Herod treated Jesus with contempt and ridicule (Luke 23). Herod - who, like the dragon in Revelation 12 that seeks to kill the male child, is clearly a type of anti-Christ - does not want the youth of today to grow up; he seeks to stifle their spiritual maturation, and thus their potential to advance the Kingdom, by keeping them locked in a puerile state of rebellion and perversion.

Thank God that "He who is in [us] is greater is greater than he who is in the world" (1 John 4:4), and that through Him, we too can "overcome the world "(1 John 5:4-5; cf. John 16:33). For we put no confidence in the flesh (Philippians 3) - in status, wealth, or anything else that will eventually pass away (Psalm 49). We fear God, and we submit to Him (Matthew 10:28-31; Luke 12:4-7; Proverbs 14:26); but, ipso facto, we do not fear man (Psalm 18, 56; Proverbs 3:25-26, Hebrews 13:6), or even Satan for that matter (1 John 5:18-20; Luke 10:17-19; James 4:7). For our confidence is in Christ (2 Corinthians 3:4-6), through whom we can "with confidence draw near to the throne of grace" (Hebrews 4:16),  so that when we we are weak, then we are strong (2 Corinthians 11:30-12:10). Jesus "made no answer" to Herod's interrogation, for He knew that He - along with anyone who believed in Him - would be vindicated (Luke 23:9). Indeed, He has given us a Spirit not of fear, but of power (2 Timothy 1:7). This same Spirit is a Spirit of self-control - another characteristic of a Godly man that is sorely lacking in today's world. It is also a Spirit of love - the very love that drives out fear (1 John 4:18).


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The worldly man pursues his own desires and ambitions to the neglect of others. The Godly man, by contrast, gives his life as a service to God - and, concomitantly, to others. We need less worldly men and more Godly men. Far from dispensing with manhood, we need to reclaim it according to its God-given purpose.

Children of God

“See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.” (1 John 3:1).


It is commonplace to hear that ‘we are all children of God’. Certainly, God has created us all in His image, and in that sense we are all His children (Genesis 1:27). When Adam and Eve rebelled against their Father, however, they renounced their heavenly lineage, as do we when we rebel (Genesis 3). At that point, Heaven and Earth diverged (and diverges), so that our physical and spiritual genealogies are no longer identical (John 8; 1 John 3:9-10). Our relationship with the Father must be restored, redeemed, recreated – we must be reborn into His family as spiritual, and not merely physical, beings (John 3:3-8).


This rebirth actually started (and starts) with God, not us; for only He has the power to forgive sin (Matthew 9:1-8; Mark 2:1-12; Luke 5:17-26), and it is He who loves us while we are still sinners (1 John 4:19; Romans 5:8). Israel was the first to be adopted (Exodus 4:22-23), but as a child it was placed under the custody of the law. As Paul explains in his letter to the Galatians, the same is true for us:


“Now before faith came, we were held captive under the law, imprisoned until the coming faith would be revealed. So then, the law was our guardian until Christ came, in order that we might be justified by faith…I mean that the heir, as long as he is a child, is no different from a slave, though he is the owner of everything, but he is under guardians and managers until the date set by his father. In the same way we also…were enslaved to the elementary principles of the world.” (Galatians 3:23-4:3).


It is only in Jesus Christ that we can be fully reconciled with God; for He is the only begotten Son, whose perfect oneness with the Father was sacrificed so that we might obtain it (John 1:14, 3:16, 17:22-23). In Christ, “the firstborn among many brothers” and "the firstborn of all creation", we can once again trace our ancestry directly to the Father as we are conformed once again to His image (Romans 8:29; Colossians 1:15-23). The spiritual and physical, the Heavenly and the earthly, are thus reunited. As Paul elaborates:


“But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian, for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith…[For] when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God…” (Galatians 3:25-4:7; cf. Romans 8:14-17).


According to Paul, to be a “son” of God (i.e. a “brother” of Christ) is to be an “heir” of God (i.e. a “co-heir” of  Christ) (Romans 8:17,29; cf. Hebrews 2:10-18). From a Biblical perspective, the word “heir” naturally evokes the “everlasting covenant” given to Abraham, whose line of descent would receive “an everlasting possession” (Genesis 17:7-8). However, Paul – and, elsewhere, Jesus Himself (Matthew 3:9; Luke 3:8) –  indicates that genetic ancestry is irrelevant:


“…not all who are descended from Israel belong to Israel, and not all are children of Abraham because they are his offspring…it is not the children of the flesh who are the children of God, but the children of the promise are counted as offspring." (Romans 9:6-8, emphasis added; cf. Romans 4).


Paul expounds this distinction “allegorically”:


^“For it is written that Abraham had two sons, one by a slave woman and one by a free woman. But the son of the slave was born according to the flesh, while the son of the free woman was born through promise…Now you, brothers, like Isaac, are children of promise… So, brothers, we are not children of the slave but of the free woman.” (Galatians 4:22-28; cf. 1 Peter 3:5-6).


Despite taking matters into his own hands, Abraham was justified by his belief in God’s promise of offspring, which would eventually include the Messiah (Genesis 15:1-6; cf. Galatians 3:6, 3:16; Romans 4:18-25; Hebrews 11). It was the Messiah, in turn, who originally blessed Abraham in the embodiment of Melchizedek (Genesis 14:17-24). In the same way, if we have faith in Jesus Christ, we become ancestors of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob – “heirs according to the promise” (Galatians 3:7; Romans 4:6,29). We are thus no longer “children of wrath” (Ephesians 2:3), but are now “children of light, children of the day” (1 Thessalonians 5:5; see also Ephesians 5:8; Philippians 2:14-16); we are, in sum, “free indeed” (John 8:36).


Our status as children of God might seem incongruous with the day-to-day experience of futility, the rampant evils of the world, and, ultimately, the inexorable reality of death. This is where the “heirs” part comes in; for although “the Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God”, our full inheritance lies in “the glory that is to be revealed in us” – and indeed, in all of creation, including our own bodies (Romans 8:16-17,21, emphasis added). The very glory given to the Son by the Father has also been given – and is being given, and will be given – to all of His children (John 17:22-23; Hebrews 2:10-18). The upshot is that, like the Son Himself, we can dwell in our Father’s house forever (Colossians 1:15; John 8:35; Psalm 23:6). As God made clear in the preamble of His covenant with Abraham, He is our inheritance; He is, that is to say, our “exceedingly great reward” (Genesis 15:1).

'Mother Earth' from a Biblical Perspective

The phrase 'Mother Earth' is never mentioned in the Bible. Indeed, it is commonly associated with paganism, and accordingly attracts disdain from many Christians. In one sense, though, the concept is thoroughly Biblical.

It should come as no surprise that my exposition begins in Genesis, the beginning of all things. In Chapter 2 Verse 7, we read that "the LORD God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature." In a very literal sense, we are made from and of the earth. God breathing His Spirit into that earth was a divine act of conception - a miraculous union of the physical and spiritual. To say that the earth is our mother is not to flirt with New Age mumbo jumbo; it is merely to state a fact. The New-Agers and their ilk are mistaken because they fail to acknowledge Father God, not necessarily because they acknowledge Mother Earth.

With that said, God and earth categorically are categorically not equal in status - not even close. The earth is God's footstool (Isaiah 66:1), not His Bride - that role is reserved for the Church (i.e. us), and is more closely analogous to the personage of Eve (Ephesians 5:22-23), the "mother of the living" (Genesis 3:20). Eve, of course, was formed not from the earth, but from Adam - a type of Christ, whose name is a pun on 'adamah', meaning 'earth'. At an even more fundamental level, before reading of man's creation, we learn in the very first chapter of in the Bible that the earth was created by God; and if it represents His creation, it can in no sense be considered equal in status to Him (Romans 1:25).

In a physical sense, though, it is still true we are born of the earth. This is not merely mystical gibberish - our bodies are, quite simply, carbon-based collections of atoms! Indeed, Jesus Himself tok on such a form when he came to the earth (John 1:14). Notice, moreover, that He did not simply appear, but was rather conceived in the womb of a woman. Recall, moreover, the supernatural process through which this conception occurred, whereby the Holy Spirit came upon the virgin Mary (Matthew 1:18-25; Luke 1:26-38). This narrative has a clear parallel in the aforementioned creation of the 'First Adam', whereby the Holy Spirit was breathed into the earth (1 Corinthians 15:45ff). Mary is categorically not the Mother of God; but she was the mother of Jesus the man, and therefore plays a role comparable to that of the earth.

Speaking of which, there is a more direct connection between Jesus and the earth, namely that He was buried in it for three days. In the story of Christ's burial and resurrection - whereby a physical body was sown, but a spiritual body was reaped (cf. 1 Corinthians 15:35-49) - I can't help but see a picture of gestation. After all, why wait three days to be resurrected - why not simply come back to life immediately? How interesting that the earth acted not only as the tomb of Christ, but also as the womb!

The rebirth of Jesus from the earth mirrors our own rebirth, which has transpired (respired?) through a fresh impartation of the Breath of God; we have been impregnated once again with the Holy Spirit (John 20:22; Acts 2). Just as the life of a child begins at conception, so too our new life began at our own Immaculate Conception. Clearly, that life is still gestating, since we are still undergoing the process of sanctification and look forward to our 'Big Day' of glorification, the final (re)birth; but as that day approaches, we are beginning to experience "the pains of childbirth", manifesting the "first fruits" of the new creation, as it says in Romans Chapter 8 Verses 22-23.

This passage in Romans reinforces the gist of my argument, since it refers not only to people, but also the earth itself, as waiting for the final birth. Indeed, the earth ("the whole creation") is mentioned first: "For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies." The passage does not say that the earth possesses the Spirit in the same way that we do - which makes sense, since there is no corresponding passage in Genesis that would imply such. Remember, though, that "the whole creation" came into existence through the Word of God - his speech, which also involves His breath, i.e. His Spirit. Remember also what happened at the very moment when Jesus "breathed His last", thus "giv[ing] up His Spirit" - the earth shook, its tombs breaking open (Matthew 27:50-53; Mark 15:37; Luke 23:46; John 19:30). Remember, finally, that He "is making all things new" - not just us, but all things (Revelation 21:5). The "firstfruits of the Spirit" to which Paul refers are also the "firstfruits of His creation" (James 1:18).

I think it is accurate to say that, while we carry the Spirit in a special, personal way, the entire earth - indeed, the entire universe - is pregnant. The physical is laden with the spiritual. At this point in time, we cannot fully perceive it, seeing only as in a mirror dimly (1 Corinthians 15:12; 1 John 3:2); but just as John the Baptist, who would herald the first coming of the Messiah, leaped in the womb when the expecting Mary greeted Elizabeth (Luke 1:41-45), so too we, who contain within us the testimony of the Spirit (Ephesians 1:14; 2 Corinthians 1:21-22; Romans 8:16; John 15:26; Hebrews 10:15-18), can feel the immanent creation kicking, squirming, pushing. It is painful at times; but it is nothing when "compar[ed] with the glory that will be revealed in us" (Romans 8:18).

From Everlasting to Everlasting

We usually conceive eternal life as 'going on forever' into the future. Many have pointed out that, if that is true, eternity starts now - rather than when we die, as is often intimated. Others have gone further to indicate that our English translations of words like 'eternal' fail to capture the original Greek and Hebrew meanings, which relate not so much to duration, but rather to quality. In this post, I wish to make a minor addition: eternal life relates not only to the future and the present, but also to the past. Not only is eternal life never ending; it is also never beginning - that is, always existing.

One peculiarity of translation is that a single word which appears in several places in the original text may be rendered variously, depending on the contextual meaning interpreted from it. In the Old Testament, one of these words is "olam", which occurs 438 times and is rendered into 26 different words or phrases (see also ad and netsach). The most common rendering of olam in the Standard Bible is "forever", which however comprises less than a third of total renderings (136). The second most common is "everlasting", the temporal direction of which, in terms of connotation if not definition, is distinctly less clear. Meanwhile, several renderings of the word - "ancient", "ancient times", "days of old" - relate explicitly to the past.

Due to the frequency and ubiquity with which olam occurs, it would basically require a complete study of the Old Testament to elucidate its full significance. Hopefully, a single example will suffice to demonstrate the point of interest. In Jeremiah 6:16, the Lord tells Israel to "ask for the ancient paths". David appears to obey this commend, asking the Lord to "lead [him] in the way everlasting" (Psalm 139:24). The same word - olam - is translated as "ancient" in the first case and "everlasting" in the second. One rendering involves the past; the other, though less definite, seems to involve the future. 

It is noteworthy that olam is mainly used to describe the the sacred facets of God - His existence, His covenant, His laws, His promises, His word, and His kingdom. These facets remind us that God is outside of time; and when this is taken into account, the dual meanings of past and future eternity can be construed as merely two sides of the same coin. This is clarified by the phrase "from everlasting to everlasting" - "from olam to olam" - which appears in three Psalms: once to declare praise to God (41:13), once to describe the nature of His existence (90:2), and once to characterise His lovingkindness (103:17). God is "the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end" (Revelation 22:13, emphasis added); He is the Great I AM (Exodus 3:14).

An analogous word in the Greek is aiónios (from the root aión), which is of particular interest due to its appearance in the verse most commonly associated with 'eternal life', namely John 3:16. Like olam, aiónios denotes a state of being that is simultaneously 'without end' and 'without beginning'; indeed, it is perhaps more explicitly indicative of timelessness (and quality) rather than merely perpetuity. Like olam, it refers to the things of God - His redemption, salvation, and glory, and also His judgement, punishment, and destruction. Moreover, in parallel to the Old Testament phrase "olam to olam", in Revelation 22:5 John envisions that the servants of God will reign "eis" - that is, throughout, beyond, or even before - "the aiōnas of the aiōnas".

How is it possible for us to assume the infinitude of God? The author of Hebrews (9:14) gives us the answer when he speaks of "the Spirit aiōniou", i.e. the eternal Spirit. That same Spirit has been joined with our spirit (1 Corinthians 6:17), which acts as a guarantee of our coming glory (Ephesians 1:13; 2 Corinthians 1:22; Colossians 1:27), testifying that we are children of God (Romans 8:16). The more Spirit and the less flesh that we become - and therefore the more like God we become (2 Corinthians 3:18, 5:17; Ephesians 4:22-24; 2 Peter 1:4) - the more aiónios and olam we become. We become not just people who will always exist, but also people who have, in a sense, always existed. Our past and future status in turn sheds light on our present - which, indeed, is often the tense in which both the Hebrew and Greek words are employed.

Inspiration, Motivation, and Enlightenment in the New Year

It is common at this time of year, when the momentum of January begins to subside and our good intentions begin to founder, to seek inspiration, motivation, and even enlightenment. I would like to encourage you that, if you have the Spirit of God dwelling within you, you are already inspired, motivated, and enlightened.

Let's start with inspiration. Etymologically, the word means to "breathe in". It seems to have derived its customary connotation - of providing an animus of some sort - from the original act of inspiration, the original act of animation: when God "breathed into [man's] nostrils the breath of life", "man became a living creature" (Genesis 2:7). Like us, Adam was - quite literally - an "earthen vessel", which nevertheless received an inspiration so powerful that it came to life (2 Corinthians 4:7). An analogous event occurred in the New Testament when Christ breathed His Spirit first onto His disciples (John 20:22) and then onto the Church as a whole (Acts 2:1-13).

While it was God's Breath that inspired man, moreover, it was his Word that created the soil to begin with. Breath and Word are inextricably related: a word can only be communicated if it is breathed (think of the diligent scribes who know the scriptures by heart, but whose hearts remain unchanged) just as breath can only communicate if it contains a word (think of spiritual experiences that fail to produce any sort of direction). "It is the Spirit who gives life", and His words "are spirit and are life", the Gospel of John (6:63, emphasis added; see also John 6:68; 2 Timothy 3:16) tells us. If you have the Spirit, you are by definition inspired, for the Word who existed before the foundation of the world - and who created the world itself - also existed before you, created you, and now dwells within you (e.g. John 1; 2 Corinthians 3:16; Romans 8:9).

Let's 'move on' to motivation, which, indeed, derives from the root word meaning "to move". Again we encounter the Spirit, and again we do so right at the beginning. Even before the seven days of creation began, when the earth was still "formless and void", we read that "the Spirit was moving" (Genesis 1:2). Paul later remarks that "in Him we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17:28, emphasis added). If you have the Spirit, you are motivated; for, although we often seek motivation as a means of achieving something, the motivation of God it is a matter of "being", not doing. Perhaps to be truly motivated we need to "be still and know that [He] is God" (Psalm 46:10).

Finally, we reach enlightenment. It should be obvious that the word 'enlightenment' has something to do with light. Indeed, the relationship between light and knowledge in the Bible is 'blindingly' obvious (cf. Acts 9). In Psalm 119:130, for example, we learn that "The unfolding of [His] words gives light; It gives understanding to the simple". It was, after all, "God, who," in the beginning, "said, 'Light shall shine out of darkness'"; and it is the same God "who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ" (2 Corinthians 4:6; see also Ephesians 1:16-21). We normally think of enlightenment as something kind of end destination, a kind of final achievement; but God's act of enlightenment was actually His first act of creation (Genesis 1:3).

"New Year, new you" - that's what we are often told, and how we often think. This, however, is folly; for those of us who are in Christ have already been made new (2 Corinthians 5:17), are constantly being made new (2 Corinthians 3:18) , and will one day be made new once and for all (Revelation 21:1-8).

The Spirit of God and the Breath of Life: Creation and Recreation

Genesis presents two creation stories: the first, outlined in 1:1-2:3, involves the creation of the world in six/seven days, while the second, outlined in 2:4-7, involves the creation of man specifically. It is often pointed out that the first story uses the word Elohim for God, while the second story uses the word Yahweh. The trinitarian significance of Elohim is often highlighted, as is the covenantial significance of Yahweh. I find it especially interesting, however, that both of the creation stories - along with their respective names for God - are connected with the idea of breath.

In the first story, after Elohim creates the heavens and the earth (Genesis 1:1), we are told that "ruach Elohim moved on the face of the waters" (Genesis 1:2). Ruach, though normally translated as Spirit, can equally denote wind or breath. In the six days of creation that follow, moreover, Elohim brings the world into existence by His words - that is, by His breath. On each day, Elohim creates something new by saying something new. This idea is reiterated in the parallel perspective on creation provided by John (1:1-5), according to which all things were created through the Word - that is, God, who existed in the beginning.

After the first creation story is finished, Elohim rests (Genesis 2:1-3), apparently 'catching His breath' before embarking on the second story. In this story, Elohim takes what He has already created through His breath - namely soil - and breathes into it "the breath [neshamah] of life" to create man as a "living [i.e. conscious] being" (Genesis 2:7). Thus, whereas the 'first breath' had created the substance of the body, this 'second wind' creates the substance of the soul.

Job (33:4; cf. 32:8, 34:14-15) alludes to this two-stage process when he states, “The Spirit [ruach] of God has made me, And the breath [neshamah] of the Almighty gives me life." In the same vein, Psalm 33:6 reads, "By the word of the Lord the heavens were made, And by the breath of His mouth all their host." Ezekiel's (37:1-14) vision of the valley of dry bones is similarly germane, although it relates not to creation per se, but rather to resurrection - that is, recreation. In that passage, the "word" of God forms bodies by causing tendons and flesh to attach to the dry bones (Ezekiel 37:4) - which evokes the "dust of the ground" of Genesis 2:7 - while the "breath" of God causes these bodies to come alive (Ezekiel 37:10).

Ezekiel's vision was, expressly, a prophecy for Israel. In the Bible, though, all things - not least Israel - point to Jesus. Indeed, in John's (1:14) account of creation, we learn that "the Word" - note, the Word, signifying Jesus - became flesh and dwelt among us". Jesus coming to earth and taking on human form was therefore a cosmic act of (re)creation in itself, akin to Elohim breathing his neshamah into the mortal soil once again.  For that to occur, Jesus first had to let the breath of life depart from him (Mark 15:37). The final result is a (re)creation that surpasses even the second story of Genesis; for whereas "the first man, Adam, became a living soul", "the last Adam" - Jesus - "became a life-giving spirit" (1 Corinthians 15:45; cf. 1 Peter 3:18ff).

It is true that in the Old Testament, the ruach of God - the Spirit of Elohim identified in the first creation story - often comes upon people, as if it were "mov[ing] on the face of the waters" (Genesis 1:2). However, it is only after Jesus breathes into His apostles (John 20:22) - an act which takes place on a wider scale at Pentecost, when a "mighty rushing wind" enters the room (Acts 2) - that the Spirit dwells within people (e.g. 1 Corinthians 3:16, 6:19; Ephesians 2:22; 2 Timothy 1:14). Indeed, although we normally translate John 1:14 as "dwelt among us", the Greek preposition is actually just en, which can also mean within (cf. Luke 17:21; 2 Corinthians 6:16; Revelation 21:3). Incidentally, this alternative rendering would tally with Ezekiel's (36:25-27, 37:14) prophecies over Israel.

A remarkable implication of this distinction is that, although all people are conscious beings, and therefore created through the breath of God in a way that sets them apart from the rest of creation, not all people have been recreated by what we might conceive as the 'third breath' - they are not spiritually alive, and will therefore not avoid the second death (Revelation 2:11, 20:6,14, 21:8; cf. Romans 8:9-11; John 11:25-26). The "God-breathed" Word (2 Timothy 3:16), which is "Spirit and Life" (John 6:63), continues to distinguish "between soul and spirit" (Hebrews 4:12), thus showing us "the life that is truly life" (1 Timothy 6:19).