an alternative picture of reality (where needed) based on the biblical vision of reality.
The Fall: Violation of Shalom
Act 2 of the biblical story is the fall of humanity. Things are no longer the way they are supposed to be. Shalom has been violated. Sin, suffering and death have entered the world. It doesn’t take much to convince us that something is not right. When we come face to face with evil—embodied either in a terrorist flying a hijacked plane into a building or an earthquake that devastates an entire nation—we have this sense in our gut that this isn’t the way the world is supposed to be. Daily we read of wars, famine, disease, disaster, injustice, slavery, genocide, rape, and murder. Time spent researching a topic doesn’t always bear fruit (e.g., in the form of a publishable article). Tenure isn’t always awarded. The prestigious position or hoped-for research money doesn’t materialize. Marriages struggle. Friendships grow cold. Children rebel. Our own hearts are often far from God. This is not the way the world is supposed to be. So, what exactly happened?
As Genesis chapter three opens, the question facing the first couple is, will they fulfill the purpose for which they were made? The answer is a resounding no. God tells Adam and Eve that they should not eat of one tree and that doing so results in death. The scene introduces another character, Satan, in the form of a snake. Satan’s strategy is to deceive Adam and Eve by first undercutting God’s authority (“You will not surely die,” Gen 3:4) and then God’s goodness (“For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil,” Gen 3:5). Adam and Eve decide to try to meet their needs in their own way, instead of following God, and “fall” from the shalomic state of wholeness, delight, and grace. Because of sin, man no longer enjoys relationship with God, but rather is alienated from him; because of sin, man no longer enjoys harmony with others, but experiences strife and murder; because of sin, man no longer enjoys harmony with the created order, but encounters disasters and dangers at every turn. Because of Adam and Eve’s original sin, all of humanity is damaged, born into the world in a state of alienation from God and others. Sin defiles every inch of creation. It corrupts our inner lives, our relationships, our work and play, even our rest. We are no longer whole because of the wickedness in our hearts and the injustice of our actions.
There are at least two implications related to the fall for the Christian scholar. First, the received role of the academic is a fallen role; not fallen full stop, but nonetheless fallen.23 As a university professor, God and man are served. But just as the businessperson does not enter into the profession and uncritically play the received role of the businessperson, so too the Christian academic ought not to enter the academy and uncritically play the received role of the academician. As Nicholas Wolterstorff states, “To serve God faithfully and to serve humanity effectively, one has to critique the received role and do what one can to alter the script.”24 There is no aspect of the university untainted by the fallenness of humanity. The values, norms, and culture of an academic department or discipline are shaped by fallen humans and thus by the dominant stories they embody.
Second, people tend to deny culpable sin and thus misdiagnose the core human problem and solution. In our society, there is room for evil, i.e., bad things that happen to people. But sin, understood as an affront to a holy God, is rarely acknowledged. Hence, the solution to man’s problems can be found in education and technology (according to the naturalistic story) or in expression and giving voice to individual causes (in the postmodern story) instead of in repentance and trust in a gracious and personal God. Without culpable sin, there is no need for a Savior. Without an understanding of shalom in terms of a relationship with God (as well as its other dimensions), there is no need to seek forgiveness and restoration. As Christian scholars, we can help, in winsome and appropriate ways, to show how the strife, dissent, and pluralism so characteristic of the academy is ultimately due to the fallenness of man against a personal God.
Redemption: The Coming of the King
From Genesis 12 to Revelation 20, we read about a God on a rescue mission to redeem the enslaved, to save the lost. God calls Abraham to be a blessing to all nations (Gen 12:1–3). Sub-themes and individual scenes in God’s redemptive story include the exodus, the nation of Israel, the giving of the Law, monarchy, exile and return, and the prophets. Each event and sub-theme within the Old Testament weaves together a tapestry of the sovereignty and grace of God in the life of his people and sets the stage for the climax of God’s rescue mission. The climax is the coming of Christ. In the incarnation, God himself takes on a human nature and enters the created order. Think about this for a moment. It would be like the author of a book taking on the nature of one of its characters and entering into the story—Lewis going to Narnia (as a talking animal, surely) or Tolkien going to Middle Earth (as a Hobbit, undoubtedly).
Motivated by love, God sends Jesus: “This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world” (1 John 4:9a). The “good news” is that humanity can be redeemed and shalom can be restored through forgiveness of sins in Christ. “God . . . sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins” (1 John 4:10). Man (and ultimately all of creation) is redeemed from all the consequences of sin: death, alienation, disintegration, and slavery to his passions. This is how love invaded our planet. This is how the revolution of the human heart began. And this is the great revolution in which God invites our participation.
Further, from Jesus’ opening words (in Matt 4:17–19) to his last words (in Acts 1:8), the progress of the gospel, this good news about the Kingdom of God, was foremost on his mind. God’s promise to Abraham in Genesis 12, that through him and his descendents all the nations of the earth would be blessed, finds its fulfillment in Christ. The mechanism, the thing that makes the gospel work, is the death and resurrection of Christ. As Paul states in 1 Corinthians 15:17, “And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins.” After his work on earth was done, Jesus went back to the Father, promising to send a helper, the Holy Spirit, who will give his followers power to proclaim the good news to others (see John 14:26 and Acts 1:8). Thus Jesus inaugurates the present age by commissioning his followers as “sent ones” as well: “As the Father has sent me, I am sending you” (John 20:21). Jesus will return to finish what he has started; the Kingdom in all its fullness will one day be revealed.
Christians today find themselves living “between the times” of the first and second coming of Christ. This period is sometimes called “the last days” (2 Tim 3:1) and is also called “the age of the spirit” and “the church age.” Moreover, it is the intersection of two ages—the present age and the age to come (both talked about in Matt 12:32). The Kingdom of God is already among us, but it is not yet fully consummated. The question naturally arises, why the delay? Why didn’t Jesus inaugurate his Kingdom in all its fullness and power at his first coming? Or, why doesn’t Jesus return sooner and perfect the Kingdom? The answer is that God has deliberately delayed the return of Jesus so that more people have the chance to hear the gospel and repent before it is too late. In short, we live in an age of gospel proclamation. The followers of Jesus, as apprentices of Jesus, proclaim the good news of the forgiveness of sins in Christ to the world and embody the message in life and action.25 We have been redeemed to be a witness for Christ, to flourish in light of our nature, to embrace the scandal of grace. The question before us then is this: Is it possible to be a faithful follower of Jesus without thinking about or living out one’s life in terms of advancing the gospel? The answer is no. Part of our task as Christian scholars is to join with God in the process of redeeming souls and ushering in, together with the church, shalom and blessing to all the earth.
There are at least two implications for the Christian scholar with respect to the redemption of Christ. First, Jesus’ mission must be ours as well. Just as Jesus was sent by the Father, so too we are sent by the Son. Jesus’ mission of seeking and saving the lost (Luke 19:10) and of healing the sick and bringing justice to the oppressed (Luke 4:17–21) must be our mission as well. Jesus commanded as much before he ascended to heaven (Matt 28:19). As the philosopher Greg Ganssle states, “It is not enough to integrate