Walking Apocalypses

One of the practices I’ve adopted during this pandemic has been running. I’ve always gone in spurts with my running—picking it up for a few months and then letting it slide again. For the last six or seven years, though, I’ve had various aches and pains that have kept me from running. First a hamstring injury. Then an ankle pain. Then a knee issue. Then the other ankle…

It was enough of an issue that before we went to Israel I bought special inserts for my shoes and compression socks for my ankles to help alleviate the pain. I had already been experiencing some relief, but for whatever reason, since we’ve been back in Grand Rapids, my ankles and knees have felt better than they have in five or so years.

I’ve never been a running fanatic, but for the past several months, I’ve been running about 3 miles 2-3 times per week. It’s been good for my body and my soul, especially as some of the other physical activity I used to participate in regularly has been curtailed.

It helps me to listen to something as I run, and I’ve used the time to discover a few new podcasts. One I’ve particularly appreciated is The Bible Project. It’s a series on how to read the Bible, and the two hosts spend each episode looking at different genres of the Bible and giving background and insights on how to approach each style.

At this point, I’ve mostly just listened to the episodes on how to read Apocalyptic literature—books like Revelation and Daniel and parts of the prophets. One of the key starting points, they say, is to understand that “apocalypse” in the Bible doesn’t mean “end of the world destruction” as we commonly think of it in today’s world. Rather, it simply means a revealing (or revelation!). A glimpse of the world as God sees it. In a week or so, I’ll get to preach about Jacob’s dream at Bethel—the dream of angels going up and down the stairway to heaven—and this is a small piece of apocalyptic literature in the middle of the book of Genesis. It’s apocalyptic because it is a vision—a revealing—of the world as God sees it.

One of the concepts I’ve appreciated most from these podcasts from the Bible Project is the centrality they place on the idea of the image of God being placed in humanity. In Genesis 1:26, as God creates humanity, God says, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.” Understanding this, the hosts say, is key to understanding our relationship to God and our relationship to the rest of creation. And to help us understand it, they actually use the concept of apocalypse.

Humanity, they say, is supposed to be a walking, talking, breathing apocalypse. An apocalypse not in terms of destroying the world (though it seems sometimes that we might be better at representing this definition), but rather an apocalypse in terms of revealing God. Showing the rest of the world what God is like. Not that we look like God so much as that we are meant to embody God’s love and God’s care and God’s goodness.

The Ten Commandments given by God as recorded in Exodus 20 and Deuteronomy 5 begin with the command “Do not have any other gods before me.” And then we’re told “Do not make a graven image of me.” All of the other gods of the Egyptians and the Amalekites and the Canaanites and the Philistines and all the other people surrounding Israel had representations of themselves that had been made by those people—something the people could look to and say, “That’s my god.” But not the Israelites. Because Israel’s God—our God—was saying, at least on a certain level—I already have my image. I already have my representation to the world. It’s you.

When Elizabeth and I were in Israel in March, we saw plenty of places where there were high places and altars where the people of Israel had set up images of God or idols of other gods. They were never particularly good at following these early commandments. And every time they made an image of God, they were not only disobeying God, but they were also abdicating their own responsibility. They were setting aside their own responsibility to be image-bearers of God. To be a walking apocalypse to the world of God’s goodness and love.

I wish I could say we’re different. I’m thankful, at least, that we don’t typically make images or idols of God. But I don’t think we’re necessarily all that much better at being image-bearers of God. At being walking apocalypses to the world of God’s goodness and love.

It’s an extraordinary responsibility. And I’m humbled that God has confidence in us that we can do it. And I look forward to the day when I can do it completely without ever falling short. That might not happen until God makes all things new. But until then, I’ll do the best I can.