Hunger in Heaven?

Last week’s Gospel reading (John 20:19-31) got me thinking, will we need to eat once we have received our resurrected bodies on the New Earth? Jesus certainly ate after He rose from the dead, but did He need to eat or was it simply to prove He had a flesh and bones body (Luke 24:39)?

Isaiah envisions “rich foods… the best meats and the finest of wines” on the New Earth (personally I’m hoping for a little cabernet sauvignon – I savor the iron fist in a velvet glove and can only imagine heaven’s version!). So, it sure seems food will be there, but will we need it?

The little I know about early church fathers tells me they were split on this. If I recall, Tertullian confessed the literalness of the resurrected body, but rejected the idea that we would eat at all (although I think he might have been influenced by Platonism – someone correct me if I’m wrong).

Augustine seems to have thought we would eat for enjoyment, but not need to eat to survive.

My limited reasoning abilities tell me if God designed our bodies to need and enjoy food in Eden, it would be logically consistent for us to need and enjoy it in the redeemed and restored New Earth.

Of course, perhaps one of the characteristics of the upgrade to the resurrected body is freedom from the need of any thing to sustain us save God (not by bread alone, but by every Word from the Lord).

Could this be one of the qualities of the “spiritual body” (1 Cor. 15:44)? In his The Two natures of Christ, Chemnitz quotes Augustine who says, “The (resurrected) bodies will be spiritual, not because they cease to be bodies, but because they live by the life-giving Spirit” (429).

So, will we need to eat on the New Earth?

Intellectually fulfilled atheist – really?

Over 20 years ago Richard Dawkins claimed Darwinian evolution allowed him to become “an intellectually fulfilled atheist.”

Did he come to that conclusion on his own?

Here’s why I ask, if evolution is true, free will is a myth; determinism rules the day. All things that exist are just the accidental and random byproduct of a purposeless Big Bang some 13.7 billion years ago – this would include Dawkins claim.

Personally, I wouldn’t find that very intellectually fulfilling – no free will, no independent thoughts, no true discovery – only random neurons firing until I fade from existence (and let’s be sure to rule out any Theistic evolution too – the thought of God guiding a purposeless, unguided process is quite contrary to reason). Really, can determinism be intellectually fulfilling? Is this something atheists choose to overlook to soothe their naturalistic souls?

In contradistinction to Dawkins and all his “intellectually fulfilled” atheist friends, I find freedom to think my own thoughts quite intellectually stimulating. In fact, I find it very fulfilling to think that in the learning, studying, questioning, and growing process, I might be thinking the Creator’s thoughts after Him.

Any thoughts? (Assuming they are your thoughts and not some random neurons shooting off for no reason).

Light’s Glittering Morn

Light’s glittering morn bedecks the sky;
Heav’n thunders forth its victory cry;
The glad earth shouts her triumph high,
And groaning hell makes wild reply,
While He, the King, the mighty King
Despoiling death of all its sting,
And trampling down the pow’rs of night,
Brings forth His ransomed Saints to light.
That Eastertide with joy was bright,
The sun shone out with fairer light,
When to their longing eyes restor’d
Th’Apostles saw their risen Lord:
He bade them see His hands, His side,
Where yet the glorious wounds abide;
Those tokens true with made it plain
Their Lord indeed was risen again.
O Jesu, King of gentleness,
Do Thou Thyself our hearts possess;
That we may give Thee all our days,
The tribute of our grateful praise.
O Lord of all with us abide.

The strife is o’er, the battle done,
In this our joyful Eastertide;
The victory of life is won,
From ev’ry weapon death can wield,
Thine own redeemed for ever shield.
The song of triumph has begun.
Alleluia.
All praise be thine, O risen Lord,
From death to endless life restored;
All praise to God, the Father be,
And Holy Ghost eternally.
Alleluia. Amen.

Horatio W. Parker (1863-1919)

No More Marriage or Marriage for Evermore?

I’ve always struggled with Jesus’ words in Mark 12, “When the dead rise, they will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven.”

My hang up? I like my wife and it’s hard for me to imagine not being married to her. I can recite the usual answer about temporal, earthly marriage being an image of the eternal, Heavenly/New Earthly marriage between Christ and the Church and all that, but I still struggle with it.

So, I was surprised when I saw the way Ben Witherington III answered this question in his book Jesus the Seer (which really isn’t about marriage – just one paragraph).

Here’s what he said: “the discussion (in Mark 12) is about levirate marriage, not all marriages, and in a deathless state there would be no more point to levirate marriage. Levirate marriage is unlike regular marriage because it only exists because of death: the obligation to raise up an heir for a deceased brother was felt to require such an institution. Furthermore, Jesus does not say there will be no more state of marriage in the kingdom; he says there will be no more new acts of marrying – no marrying (the male’s role in a patriarchal situation) or being given in marriage (the bride’s role). To this one may add that early Jews did not generally think that angels were sexless creatures… There is thus nothing in Mark 12 to support the notion that Jesus saw marriage as ceasing in the resurrection. What Jesus taught was that there would be no more change of status in the resurrection.”

I’ve not heard this take before. I’d certainly like for him to be right. The obvious question is “What about those who have remarried (whether due to death or divorce)? And what about the polygamous patriarchs?” Whose spouse will be whose?

The Privileged Planet

I stayed up past my bed time last night watching The Privileged Planet. If you haven’t seen it, do.

A few highlights:

• Earth is fine tuned to sustain complex life
• Scientists have composed a list of roughly 20 variables that must be in place simultaneously for complex life to exist (like the strong nuclear force holding protons and neutrons together, earth’s distance from the sun, the size of earth’s moon, and many more)
• Earth is located in a small region of habitability (the habitable zone) within our solar system
• Our solar system is located in a small region of habitability within our galaxy
  

But what was really interesting is that we’re not only located in a habitable zone, but we’re positioned in a place ideal for scientific discovery in our universe. Astrologist Guillermo Gonzalez says, “The most habitable places in the universe also offer the best opportunity for scientific discovery. I believe this implies purpose.”

It’s almost like God hand-picked the perfect place for us to learn about His creation. And with such a privileged position, why wouldn’t we eagerly learn as much as we could about God’s handiwork?

Check out the website: http://www.privilegedplanet.com/

Paradise Temporarily on Pause?

From the cross Jesus says to a criminal, “…today you will be with me in paradise.” From what I’ve read “paradise” seems to be a reference to “God’s garden,” which is itself an eschatological image of the new creation, but I’d love to learn more about “paradise.” (I know it shows up in 2 Corinthians 12:4 and Revelation 2:7 too.)

My real question is this: When did this criminal join Jesus in paradise? In other words, what are we to make out of the word “today”? Jesus was in the tomb until Sunday, so the criminal couldn’t have joined him in paradise “today.”

Is this just Luke’s unique way of emphasizing the immediacy of salvation? (Today salvation has come to this house… etc.)

Time tirelessly ticks; I don’t.

With Holy Week ready to make Lent’s final assault, I’ve cleared my calendar from all distractions and am now ready to make my charge.

Sermons have been written. Services have been crafted. People are being organized. Palms are green with anticipation. Lilies lie in wait. Flags are ready to fly. Allelu**s are ready to be sung.

While everything waits in the ready, Lent has exacted its cost: my time is not mine. I belong not to me. It has taken nearly six weeks of sermonizing and studying the Word ad nauseam, but I get it (again). It’s not about me. I will die with Christ on Good Friday in joyful anticipation of the resurrection.