Eschatology and ecclesiology: Reflections inspired by revelation 21:22

For some time now, I have been fascinated with the very dramatic portrayal in Revelation 21 of the radical renewal of life represented by the New Jerusalem at the culmination of history as we know it. When asked recently to elaborate on the vision that ought to guide the church's engagement with the wider community, I could think of no better response than to turn to verse 22 of this chapter, which reads, "And I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb."1 It then struck me that the time had come to move beyond animated reading of this passage to the more elaborate exploration it inspires concerning the relationship between eschatology and ecclesiology.

This project is therefore grounded in the conviction that being part of a corpus that depicts the emergence of the ideal human community, the verse (and chapter) in question exposes an understanding of what constitutes meaningful communion with God. As such, it opens the door to consideration of the appropriate self-understanding of that community which perceives itself as having been called to a unique relationship with God through Jesus, and to critical responsibility for the welfare of the cosmos. I argue therefore that the symbolic expressions of Rv 21:22 point to what has always been God's "ideal aim" for creation. It is this ideal that has, from the beginning, lured members of the human family into communities and institutions (like the Christian church) that express particular appropriations of this ideal. I show that this ideal, as captured by the notion of the New Jerusalem in Rv 21:22, is directly linked with other powerful representations in both Jewish and Christian scripture (for example, an ideal city, an ideal garden, an ideal covenant, and an ideal kingdom). In the end, I make the case that Christians have been given a picture of the true end or purpose (telos) of the church, which ought to serve as motivation for a particular ethos and operational dynamic that privileges freedom and communion, even as the church lives its life in anticipation of the realization of God's ideal.

TEXT AND CONTEXT

The Book of Revelation belongs to the literary genre called apocalyptic, which is derived from the Greek word apokalypsis. There is general agreement that the immediate cultural milieu of this work is that of Western Asia, and that it was completed at some point during the late first century C.E. However, there is a wide range of opinion on exact dating. Eugene Boring believes that this work is best understood as a letter written in 96 C.E. to churches facing persecution at the hands of Domitian.2 Writing with the benefit of more recent scholarship, Ron Farmer suggests, "Evidence for a Domitian persecution of Christians is quite slim, in fact there is no reliable evidence clearly supporting the hypothesis." He does not deny that there was persecution: "What is called into question is the assumption that this persecution resulted from a new government policy aimed at Christians."3 Elizabeth Schussler Fiorenza is confident that "the final composition of the work in its present form took place some time after the destruction of Jerusalem among persons who saw no signs of rebuilding."4 However, this does not mean that all the visions in the work happened at the same time and place. In all this diversity of opinion, what is not in dispute is that this work, set on the island of Patmos off the coast of Asia Minor, represents creative use of Jewish scriptures to address the situation of early Christian communities as they operated in a general context of domination, coercion, control, and alienation.

It is not difficult to discern in Revelation the fundamental desire for a world characterized by communion with God. But there is also the recognition that in the world as it is, powerful forces stand opposed to the righteous way and will do anything to destroy those who would pursue that which is desired. We find then, that throughout this work, there is the portrayal of constant movement back and forth between earthly affairs with its tribulations, and glimpses of the supra-natural realm that seem designed to remind the beleaguered believers that there was far more to life than that which they were experiencing at the time. Yes, "the powers" appeared to have control over the lives of believers, but this was certainly not the last word. Their God had not been overthrown and a glorious future had been prepared for them. Thus, after the review of life in the seven churches,5 there is a vision of heaven. By chapter 6 it is clear that disaster is imminent and a decision is made that the servants of God must be sealed before this happens. Chapter 7 provides a moving description as those from the twelve tribes of Israel, and "a great multitude which no one could number, from all tribes and peoples and tongues standing before the throne . . .," engage in praise as led by the twenty-four elders and the four living creatures. The revolutionary nature of this vision is appreciated when one recalls that through the "Pax Romana" the Roman authorities sought to fashion empire-wide unity by nullifying features of life that gave identity and meaning to particular groups. What we have here is a counter-cultural statement, and implicit in it is a resistance to conformity and uniformity. Thus the author is careful to emphasize the diversity that characterizes the multitude around the throne. Admittedly, in this scene, diversity is limited to followers of Jesus the Christ. However, it is quite clear that the center of unity is not socio-political or ecclesiastical structures, but common communion with the divine. Thus, there is the resounding declaration: "Salvation belongs to our God who sits upon the throne and to the Lamb" (v. 10).