The Second Coming: An Advent Meditation
For as far back as I can remember, I have always loved this time of year. I love outdoor light displays, cinnamon-scented candles, and cheese and sausage balls. I love Christmas songs by Ray Charles and Frank Sinatra. I love seeing kids waiting in line to see Santa Claus at my local Cabela’s. And yes, I love giving and receiving presents.
I understand that Christmas isn’t really about such things. I know that Christmas is not my birthday. I know that Jesus is “the reason for the season.” I know the difference between the secular and over-commercialized phenomenon of Christmas and the Christian season of Advent. And I suspect that most of you do, too.
The fact that most Christians can recite ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas is not especially alarming to me. It reflects our dual citizenship. We are citizens of the Kingdom of God, but we are also citizens of this world. If we shop at Walmart or watch television this time of year, sooner or later we will find ourselves singing along to Gene Autry or Mariah Carey. The consumer and commercial culture of Christmas is simply unavoidable. Constantly complaining about it just makes us sound like curmudgeons. It’s also the epitome of low-hanging fruit.
A little further up the tree is our tendency to focus our time and energy during Advent almost exclusively on the baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. From living manger scenes to Christmas plays, most of our programming orients us to an event in the past. And while this is entirely appropriate, Advent should also orient us to the future. We should acknowledge and celebrate the mystery of the incarnation, but we should also anticipate and prepare ourselves for Christ’s return in glory to judge the living and the dead.
Unfortunately, many Christians today seem reticent to talk about the second coming, even during Advent. Perhaps we are not well-informed about the full significance of Advent in the Christian calendar. Or perhaps we don’t follow the lectionary, which each year features biblical texts on the second coming. These are plausible reasons, but I suspect there is more going on here than meets the eye. More specifically, I suspect our reticence to talk about the second coming has to do with what Daniel Hummel has recently called the “rise and fall of dispensationalism.”
Christians who grew up reading the recently departed Hal Lindsey’s The Late Great Planet Earth (or Tim LaHaye’s Left Behind), or watching annual youth camp screenings of A Thief in the Night, often associate the return of Christ with the destruction of the Earth and everything in it. Many of us also came to feel like we were living in a cosmic “gotcha” game. The message was clear: woe be unto you if you are doing something naughty when Jesus suddenly reappears. Adolescence is hard enough without the idea floating around in your head that the second coming of Christ is almost certain to occur at the precise moment when you are having an unholy thought or desire.
Of course, dispensationalist eschatology is about much more than the suddenness and unpredictability of Christ’s second coming. It revolves around the fate of Christians in relation to the millennium. In the most popular versions, Christians will be raptured to heaven just prior to all hell breaking loose on Earth. The results will be ominous and terrifying. Pilotless helicopters and airplanes will suddenly fall from the sky. Driverless cars will careen into one another. And if that weren’t terrifying enough, this will all be followed by a period of great tribulation, in which a figure known as the anti-Christ will come to power. Eventually, Christ will return with all the saints to reign on the Earth for a thousand years prior to a massive concluding battle with Satan known as Armageddon.
There are endless variations on the basic scheme I have just described. Many of them involve speculation about the special geo-political roles of America and the modern nation-state of Israel. In other words, dispensationalist eschatology is often combined with a strange form of Christian and Jewish nationalism.
While dispensationalism is still with us today, it is not nearly as influential as it once was. This is largely because many Christians who grew up on Lindsey and LaHaye have moved on. We have moved on for all sorts of reasons. Many of our tribe now self-identify as “ex-vangelicals.” For them, dispensationalist eschatology was fear-based and highly manipulative. Thus, the mere mention of the second coming can trigger everything from mild agitation to anger or deep anxiety. In the worst cases, it can cause a full-on panic attack or social media meltdown.
Tragically, among the ex-vangelical crowd, some have moved on from Christianity entirely. Others have sought shelter in more progressive forms of Christianity. And then there are those of us who remain evangelical, even if quietly so. But almost all post-dispensationalists share a general unease with talking about the second coming. We have moved on from dispensationalism, but we have neither developed nor embraced a robust alternative vision of the future. Thus, the doctrine of the second coming is now in danger of being left behind.
One alternative vision of the future that is becoming increasingly popular is universalism. For post-dispensationalists, part of the attraction of universalism is its relative simplicity. In sharp contrast with complex dispensationalist charts, universalism tends to be largely agnostic about how the future will play out, aside from the simple affirmation that, in one way or another, a loving God will eventually save all people.
I am far from convinced that universalism, fashionable though it may be, is any better than dispensationalism. For instance, from the standpoint of the Christian doctrine of God, universalism faces some rather serious difficulties. Universalism, we are told, reflects God’s loving nature, as well as God’s omnipotence. The God who created the world is love, and because God is all-powerful, God will see to it that his purposes for creation will one day be fully realized. But the God who is all-loving and all-powerful is also good and just. And God’s goodness and justice, as well as God’s love, are reflected above all in the gift of freedom to us creatures. We are created with the freedom to love God above all things or to turn away from God in idol worship. Having turned away, we are free, with the Spirit’s help, to embrace the grace and mercy on offer in Jesus Christ or to reject it.
Contrary to what many universalists claim, the possibility of hell, which is always included in the classical doctrine of Christ’s second coming as judge, does not imply a blood-thirsty deity who is hell-bent on punishing sinners. Rather, it witnesses to the goodness of God evident in the gift of freedom. Heaven and hell are not about God giving us what we deserve—rewards and punishments. Rather, they are about God giving us what we want. In the final judgment, Christ will honor us by honoring our choices. He will give us what we ask for.
For all its flaws—and it has many—dispensationalism took seriously two major biblical themes: the suddenness and unpredictability of the Lord’s return, and the coming destruction of the cosmos. A Thief in the Night is a great movie title. It is also a biblical theme. 2 Peter 3:10 (NIV) says that the day of the Lord will come “like a thief” (see also 1 Thess. 5:2 and Rev. 3:3). The same verse goes on to say that, when the Lord returns, the heavens will “disappear with a roar,” the elements will be “destroyed by fire,” and the Earth and everything done in it “will be laid bare.” Two verses later, 2 Peter 3:12 reiterates the theme of destruction, saying, “That day will bring about the destruction of the heavens by fire, and the elements will melt in the heat.”
All of this sounds quite terrifying. However, 2 Peter twice says that Christians should look forward to the day of the Lord, because, on that day, death and destruction will not have the last word (2 Pet. 3:12; 3:14). Rather, there will be a new heaven and a new Earth “where righteousness dwells” (2 Pet. 3:13). And this brings us to what is arguably the most important biblical theme related to Christ’s second coming, namely, preparation. If we want to inhabit the new heaven and the new Earth, which will accompany the day of the Lord, then we must be righteous ourselves. We must “live holy and godly lives” (2 Pet. 3:11). We must “make every effort” to be found “spotless” and “blameless” when Christ returns (2 Peter 3:14).
Far from a peripheral matter, being prepared for the day of the Lord is a prominent theme throughout the New Testament. It occurs in the Gospels (Matt. 24:42-44; Mark 13:35-37), the Pauline and Johannine epistles (1 Thess. 5:2-6; 1 John 3:2-3), and the Revelation to John (Rev. 16:15). And while we must be vigilant in all seasons, Advent is a time in which Christians historically have focused on the second coming in a way that heightens our expectancy and our hope, as well as our preparation. It is a season for stocktaking and repentance. It is a time to seek and grant forgiveness. It is a time to renew our commitment to holiness.
While the more imaginative aspects of dispensationalism lack biblical support, the suddenness and unpredictability of Christ’s second coming, the judgment and destruction of evil and its effects, and the call for vigilance and godliness in preparation for the day of the Lord are all prominent biblical themes. Far from a reason to act curmudgeonly amid the merry-making and frivolities of the season, we of all people should be known for our relentless hope and deep joy—for we know how the story ends.
Jason E. Vickers is the William J. Abraham Chair in Theology and Wesleyan Studies at George W. Truett Theological Seminary at Baylor University in Waco, Texas.