Eternal Life and Other Whatnot: An Introduction

I used to be absolutely, positively, 100%, beyond belief and comprehension terrified of Jesus' Second Coming. I loathed my teachers for talking about it in Sunday School. I remember sitting in junior high Sunday School class and hearing my teacher say that the Second Coming would most definitely happen in our lifetime (this was right around the time of the 1st Gulf War, so end times speculation was running rampant). I hated her for saying that, for I was sure that her vocalizing the words would speed the realization of the actual eschatological event. "Shut up! Shut up!" I remember screaming in my head, "I want to get married and have kids, get a job, grow old, build a white picket fence. I'm too young to go to heaven." I denied its possibility of happening, like my ever going to the dentist for a teeth cleaning; it wasn't going to happen, dang it, not if I had any say in the matter. Whenever preachers would mention it I would shut down, go into a self-induced neural coma (also known as a "cat-nap") and drift off into the faraway land of chimpanzees with wings, circus clowns named Boffo, and purple, pink-polka-dotted elephants who know how to make soup.

My mother is obsessed with the end. She may not know what eschatology is but she knows that Jesus is coming back soon because the world is full of war, hurricanes, earthquakes, and a Democrat-controlled Congress (all of theses apparently altogether new phenomenon in the course of human history). Needless to say, there is an endless stream of ridicule and derision that flows my mother's direction from my brother and I. We are the Mississippi River of ridicule.

True story. Awhile back bad storms were rumbling through Gosport and Ellettsville where my brother and mother reside, respectively. Mom, being mom, called my brother, Brad, to see if he knew about the storms, assuming that my brother doesn't realize that dark clouds, in Indiana, during May usually mean bad storms. Mom mistakenly made the comment that Jesus must be coming back soon because the inclement weather and current world events seem to be a barometer of the end times. After weathering (only only kid of intended) my brother's latent sarcasm they both hung up and waited for the storms to pass. Afterwards, when the storms had moved on, my brother called back. The conversation went thusly:

Mom: Hello?
Brad: Um, yeah, Jesus called and he said to tell you it was just a storm and he isn't coming back yet.
Mom: (Click)

Being 30 has brought with it a new perspective concerning eschatology and things related thereto. I avoid the book of Revelation, and have most of my life, due to my former fear of it (it has monsters in it!) and its constant reminder of Jesus coming back to beat bad people up (of whom I counted myself among). I avoid it now for different reasons, mostly because I don't understand it and I don't want to sit and fight about how Bill Clinton and Iraq are the Antichrist and Babylon with amateur theologians who watch John Hagee and read Left Behind.

My new perspective has brought with it a new attitude: I"m no longer afraid of Jesus coming back (whatever that may look like or mean).

Over the coming week or so I'm going to write a series of articles on eternal life and things related to it. I want to look at some of our old-fashioned, theologically inaccurate, and, frankly, dangerous views of eternal life itself. I'm going to break them down and unpack the danger they carry with them. Following hard on the heels of that we'll look at the world of Jesus and the Jewish concept of eternal life, which will drastically alter how we read eternal life passages in Scripture. Finally, we'll end up with how it affects us and our way of living in this world.

Stay tuned.

shalom, matt