The End of the World 

and the Ends of God:

Science and Theology 

on Eschatology

Edited by John Polkinghorne 

and Michael Welker

Trinity Press International:  June, 2000.  320 pages.

Reviewed by Alan Padgett. John T. Baldwin, 

Richard Rice and John B. Wong

Alan Padgett:

This volume is the published result of three years of meetings in Princeton and Heidelberg between scientists, ethicists, and theologians, from Europe and North America (German and English speaking scholars). It consists of 18 chapters, an introduction and an appendix. We cannot here reproduce the full scope of the volume; only provide some ideas and themes from the chapters for your reflection.

In the Introduction Polkinghorne and Welker make clear their aim to take the sciences seriously as the intellectual environment out of which the Church must think through its eschatological images and metaphors. The "classical and canonical religious traditions" of the Christian faith do not concentrate on "any realm of pious wishes and fantasy," they insist. Rather, they provide a dialectic between already and not yet, of continuity and discontinuity. Science and theology are both alike challenged in this eschatological framework (theology, e.g., must "confront in the most rigorous way possible the demand of publicly warranted truth claims"). The contributors work out of a "common concern for a realistic eschatology that seeks to understand the ends of God in and with a world that will come to an end as surely as we all will go through physical death and decay."

The scientists take the lead (sound familiar?). William Stoeger (Vatican) provides us with an overview of various scientific ends and catastrophes in his chapter (‘Scientific Accounts of Ultimate Catastrophes in our Life-Bearing Universe’). These are for the most part quite depressing, and press us with the question of our life’s meaning. He does point out, however, that science provides us with a picture of the Universe that is also ‘life-bearing’, i.e. life-generating processes. In the second chapter, Polkinghorne (Cambridge) provides some questions & insights from science for eschatology. He insists upon a continuity and also a discontinuity between this world and the new creation. "Why did not God straightaway create a world free from death and suffering, if such a world is an eventual possibility? The Christian answer, it seems to me, is that the new creation is not due to God’s wiping the cosmic slate clean, and starting again. Instead, what is brought about is the divine redemptive transformation of the old creation." The matter-energy and the laws will needs be discontinuous, but we can expect "continuity of pattern" between this world and the new creation. The unfolding process and continual care of the Creator will likewise continue into the new, eschatological reality. Psychologists also get their turn: Detlef Linke (Bonn) writes a few speculative pages about brain science and information, while Frasier Watts (Cambridge) writes more on the clinical end, about the importance of subjective hope for mental health in a way that distinguishes between objective [propositional] and subjective [attitudinal] eschatology.

The next section is devoted to cultural and ethical reflection. Stoeger argues that we must pay attention to the cultural mythos of our times, and the overpowering impact of science upon cultural cosmologies. Janet Soskice (Cambridge) argues that Christian hope is not only about the future, but about giving hope to our present lives, especially in the light of the postmodern death of (Western) ‘Man’, "the purely rational agent of modern science." Larry Bouchard (Virginia) is likewise concerned with the manner in which our moral imagination is shaped by scientific (and science-fiction) visions of the future. William Schweiker (Chicago) argues that there is a "moral cosmology" which is just as crucial as scientific or cultural models of the world and its future. A moral cosmology is a set of beliefs and values, often tacit, which orient a culture in its physical environment. Schweiker focuses Christian eschatology on the present moral struggle. "We are not lost in an ocean of meaningless time or awaiting the damnation of the evil [sic]. The Christian eschatological witness is that we live within the theater of God’s goodness and therefore are required and empowered to respect and enhance the integrity of life."

The next part (3) is an excellent series of studies in Biblical exegesis and theology by four scholars, two chapters on each Testament. These are Walter Brueggemann (Columbia Sem.), Patrick Miller (Princeton), Don Juel (ibid.), and Hans Weder (Zurich). The first three are more exegetical, while Weder’s piece reads like systematic theology. All four emphasized the already-but-not-yet character of the Biblical witness to God’s future (and our future in God).

The final section is devoted to systematic theology. Gerhard Sauter (Bonn) leads off with a consideration of "Our Reasons for Hope.". The Christian reason for "hope against hope" is based upon the Resurrection, and is therefore a reality which helps transform our lives today. This is most important in cases of real suffering and oppression, especially when compared to the rather thin hope of "well, life goes on" allowed by the natural sciences. But within the sciences, this hope has no long-term future. Kathryn Tanner (Chicago) examines the concept of eternal life theologically. She re-interprets it as "an unconditional, already realized possession" rather than a fully future gift. Both old and new creation exist now, side by side, in her view. Jürgen Moltmann (Tübingen) examines the question, "Is there life after death?" from a cultural and world religions perspective. The Christian answer is Yes, because God is a God of justice and redemption. "God’s judgment means the final putting to rights of the injustice that has been done and suffered, and the final raising up of those who are bowed down." He wants us to live fully, with the memory and community of the dead who have gone before us. "Those whom we call dead are not lost. They are not yet finally saved either." Miroslav Volf (Yale) develops a theological examination of resurrection and last judgment, too, in critical dialogue with three great living German theologians (Moltmann, Pannenberg, Jüngel). He concludes that "the eschatological transition must be ultimately understood as the final reconciliation of ‘all things,’ grounded in the work of Christ the reconciler and accomplished by the Spirit of communion, as the process by which the whole creation along with human beings will be freed from transience and sin to reach the state of eternal peace and joy in communion with the Triune God." The last chapter is by the other editor, Michael Welker (Heidelberg). His focus is on the Resurrected Christ as "canonical memory." He argues for the reality of the Resurrection event, as the foundation for any hope in eternal life with God.

Richard Rice:

The End of the World and the Ends of God: Science and Theology on Eschatology is a challenging and provocative book. It brings together the work of seventeen scholars from diverse fields and even more diverse viewpoints, all discussing issues that are characterized by their elusive and controversial nature. Based on an international conference on the topic in Heidelberg, the volume contains eighteen individual essays divided into four sections, each with its own introduction, as well as a general introduction and an appendix. Since another reviewer at this website summarizes the various sections of the book, I will use this space to register my reaction to the project as a whole.

I was both intrigued and somewhat surprised by the task the contributors assumed. The interface of science and religion has become a topic of great interest in recent years, and it is surely one of the most important issues that Christian theology has to face. But to make the end of the world a topic for such interdisciplinary discussion? I had my doubts. After all, eschatology is a notoriously challenging aspect of Christian theology, the place where theologians are prone to be more tentative and guarded in their statements than anywhere else, if not more bewildered and bewildering. How could this area provide a basis for fruitful discussion?

At the same time, if the prospect of The End doesn’t get people thinking about religious issues, nothing will. Moreover, the prevailing scientific scenarios of cosmic catastrophe are so compelling and disturbing that they call into question all conventional Christian pictures of the future. So, the issue of ultimate human destiny is inescapable for both science and religion, and it makes sense to bring the two into conversation on the topic.

As far as the overall trajectory of the discussion goes, science poses the question and theology looks for answers (41). According to contemporary cosmologies, life as we know it is headed for extinction, if not as a result of an astronomical catastrophe, like the collision of the earth with an asteroid or comet, then for sure when the sun burns up or the universe completely decays or collapses. What meaning does our existence have if all living things are destined for extinction? How can we hope in the absence of any scientific evidence for anything like the resurrection of the body, the immortality of the soul, or a transformed heaven and earth? The different sections of the book contain responses to this question arising from the areas of science, cultural analysis, biblical study, and theology.

According to the Introduction, one of the overall objectives of the discussion is to formulate a "realistic eschatology" (3). That is, not an "existential eschatology" which locates history’s meaning in the momentary present, nor a "sociomoralistic eschatology" devoted to endlessly shaping and reshaping life on our planet, but a vision of the literal future developed from religious hopes in response to the challenge of scientific conclusions.

The challenges involved in such an endeavor are breathtaking, to say the least. And in spite of the intention expressed in the Introduction, the book does not meet them all. Instead of building a case for some portrait of the human future, it assembles the diverse eschatological reflections of scholars in different areas, each of whom addresses the issues in his or her own way, depending on their areas of expertise and their personal convictions. As a compendium of contemporary reflections on the general issue of eschatology, then, the book is successful. But as a cumulative case for a coherent eschatological vision, it is not, in spite of the editors’ claims (3).

This is not to undermine its accomplishment, however. I know of no other work that addresses so forthrightly the challenges to Christian hope posed by contemporary cosmology, and that draws together such a variety of thoughtful reflections of the topic. I appreciated the way the editors’ (and authors’) acknowledge the "messiness" of all eschatological thought and their commitment to "thick" rather than "thin" accounts of reality and human experience. One message the book clearly conveys is the futility of looking to science for reassurance regarding the long-range human prospect. For that, we must go to other dimensions of human experience, as Polkinghorne notes: "human perceptions of value are as much windows onto reality as are scientific accounts of physical process" (41).

In spite of the richness of the book’s contents, there are several topics that deserve much more attention in a discussion of this nature. I’ll mention four of them.

One is the reality of human threats to human well-being. The dire cosmic future obviously raises important questions, but our mismanagement of the planet and our cruelty to one another present more immediate challenges, and they deserve attention, too. I write these words on September 11, 2001, as images of the disasters in New York City and Washington, D.C. fill the television screen. They are a terrible reminder of the threats to life’s meaning that come not from impending cosmic catastrophe, but from accumulated human hatred. These threats should play a larger role in eschatological reflections than this book gives them.

Another topic that deserves more attention is apocalyptic literature. When the word appears, it usually carries pejorative connotations (e.g. Volf, 278). But when we’re contemplating the certain destruction of the universe, the prospect of a radical transition to a dramatically different state of affairs is bound to arise. Apocalyptic expresses hope when there seems to be no bridge between God’s promised future and the dismal present. Yet the biblical materials that deal most directly with this are not explored to any extent.

The book’s most glaring omission is the absence of any serious attempt to draw a scenario of the future from the biblical materials that constructively responds to the challenges of current cosmological theories. I admit that this is a sensitive and complicated issue. The very notion of a future which overcomes the limitations of the present epoch is elusive. And biblical accounts of the age to come are filled with a striking diversity of highly charged symbols, making any sort of coherent picture highly problematic. Then, too, the wreckage of failed scenarios litters the landscape of Christian history, and we can understand the determination of contemporary theologians to avoid their mistakes. All the same, some sort of eschatological scenario, however tentative, is exactly what the book seems to call for. After all, science offers some pretty graphic pictures of what lies ahead. Doesn’t Christian hope have an alternative to suggest?

In "Eschatology Without a Future?" Kathryn Tanner accepts the scientific forecast of the universe’s demise and grounds human meaning on the Johanine description of eternal life as a present reality (224). She offers her proposal as an alternative to the idea that divine influence will prevent the destiny that scientists predict or provide a future beyond the destruction, as well as the view that we can use scientific descriptions of this world to suggest the nature of the world to come. These approaches, she asserts, are "amply demonstrated" in this volume. But the fact is, they aren’t. There are descriptions of the future based an a careful review of biblical materials—see Moltmann, Volf and Welker—but no attempt to place these descriptions into conversation with scientific accounts of human existence.

Volf, for example, discusses the "eschatological transition," as he calls it, as it must be conceived "if the eschatological consummation fits core Christian persuasions and yields a compelling vision of human ultimate purpose and true happiness" (258). But he does not consider the plausibility of these claims, given what humanities and natural sciences tell us about the nature and destiny of human beings. And it is the precisely such plausibility that the book promises the reader.

A fourth deficiency in the discussion is closely related to the previous point. The book would profit from sustained philosophical reflection on God’s relation to the world. Whether anything like a dramatic transition between this (apparently doomed) cosmic epoch and another where life and love are experienced in unlimited ways is even possible depends on what sort of God created this world. Yet the book does not give this topic explicit consideration. It could be a big help.

In short, I found the book informative and stimulating in its various parts, but not, taken as a whole, completely satisfying. For all its richness, it fails to provide a theological vision of the future that is grounded in the Bible and demonstrably compatible with scientific conclusions. Despite its shortcomings, though, it deals with topics of profound importance, and I am sure it will stimulate discussion.

John B. Wong:

The contributors of this book represent some of the best minds in the increasingly popular dialogue between science and theology. Because they are drawn from the academic elite in England, Germany and America, it is not surprising that their discussions are often couched in scholarly tentativeness, and that their remarks are heavily bolstered by a rational approach which displays less of a commitment to traditional faith and to customary Christian eschatological visions. 

I searched this volume for new concepts, especially ones about the resurrection and the resurrected body, that would either confirm or challenge the concepts I propose in my recent book, The Resurrected Body—Y2K and Beyond:  A New Concept of the Resurrected Body from Biblical, Theological, Philosophical and Scientific Perspectives (University Press of America:  January, 2000. 354 pages).  Because this is not a review of the entire volume edited by Polkinghorne and Welker, I intend to make only some focused comments in scattered areas. I ask for your tolerance and patience as I freely interject my own perspectives even as I am aware of their subjectivity and their propinquity to my own Christian worldview.

On June 25, 2001, a Time magazine article discussed how the universe will end. Based on today’s astronomical data and scientific cosmology, it claimed that our universe will end, as T. S. Eliot would have said, "Not with a bang but a whimper." The article concludes with abundant pessimism:  in the end, after trillions and trillions of years, the universe, once ablaze with the light of uncountable stars, will become an unimaginably vast, cold, dark and profoundly lonely place.

Scientists like William Stoeger, a Roman Catholic priest and astrophysicist, who have entered into dialogue in this book are not immune from such dire predictions.  He postulates that one or the other of two cosmic scenarios will be the final fate of the universe:  either a contraction and collapse in a big crunch with a fiery conflagration or a forever expanding universe resulting in cosmological heat death.

I have problems with such predictions. Why does the universe have to be either progressively contracting or forever expanding, resulting in either a fireball or heat death? To mention just one other possibility, why can’t it be oscillating between expansion and contraction in a perpetual cycle?

My other question is more about the kind of God we find in Scripture.  He is called the Creator, the One who is love. He is not a cold, lonely, unmoved mover but One who delights in fellowship and interaction with His created order. Why would He un-create or forever destroy the material universe He has created?  Admittedly, He has the freedom to let the universe die in a big crunch or in a heat death, but will He?  Because He has the power to create, does He not also have the power to sustain and renew, to perpetuate life and matter? To think of a god who cannot marshal such power is to worship an inferior deity. 

Far from such pessimistic projections about the ultimate fate of the universe, the Bible depicts a New Heaven and Earth for which there is no end. When the present fallen created order dies, its end will be only a new beginning. If we then possess physical resurrected bodies with transphysical modes (see the details argued in my book), we will require a physical environment in which to interact.  That means, among other things, a future material universe in which we can play, study, love, and enjoy God and humans forever. 

An eschatology which points to the death of the universe, with perhaps a floating, human "consciousness" remaining within or outside of God’s "Mind," is existentially unsatisfying.  It is at variance with traditional Christian portrayals of God.  And it does not correlate with our experiences in life of the joy of fellowship and sociality.

Looking at this from another perspective: if there is no life after death, what significance and utility are there in projecting what might happen trillions and trillions of years from now? We won't be there to experience the reality of that scenario anyway!  Ah, you might say, our contemplation of such eschatological subjects affects how we live in this life.  Again, I repeat, if there is no life after death, all the sound and fury on earth signify nothing.

For these reasons, it seems to me that our own resurrected bodies, predicated on Jesus’ own resurrected body, must be the center of our eschatological exploration. Without the resurrected body to think, experience and interact with God’s animate and inanimate domains as we know them here on earth, there won't be a human entity to authenticate Jesus’ resurrection, let alone to assess its implications.

John Polkinghorne, an Anglican priest and mathematical physicist, and Michael Welker, a philosopher and theologian, are cognizant of and opposed to the commonly held notion that there is an irreconcilable split between the sciences and theology, between a natural reality, the subject matter of the sciences and a supernature and hyperreality, the realm of religion and theology. They also discuss the logic of continuity/discontinuity in the Bible's eschatological promises and images. Their purpose is to articulate a "realistic eschatology," to "explore grounds of hope and joy in the face of physical death and the threat posed by a finite world and universe."  

Polkinghorne and Welker argue for a careful and yet realistic picture of reality or realities (facts, meanings, truth, value). To them, the key to reality is intelligibility.  They make little mention of  faith, however one defines it, as an element in unlocking the mystery of that hyperreality, though in a separate chapter Hans Weder does talk about faith in relation to hope. They speak more often of a deep intellectual satisfaction called "understanding" which aims at a comprehensive sense of "the whole" and a kind of realism that is attentive to multiple perspectives or frames of reference.

One can quickly summarize their circuitous discussions by positing an ultradimensional reality, a term used in my book, which they call the supernature and hyperreality encountered in eschatology. Their so-called "deep understanding" edges close to the reality of faith. Their discussion of the hermeneutical and epistemological circle might be illustrated by the Anselm’s "Credo ut intelligam"—"I believe so that I might understand."

Although the concern of Polkinghorne and Welker about continuity/discontinuity is encouraging and reconfirming, Polkinghorne’s discussion of continuity does not explore the question of human identity, other than referring to the degree of continuity necessary to ensure that it is this person, or this world, whose fulfillment lies beyond the threatening facts of anticipated demise. Existentially and philosophically, I believe that the identity issue is paramount in the context of the eschaton. Without assurance of human identity—that I’ll know who I am in the future life—there is a big void in the meaning of the life that I now live. 

The discontinuity spoken of in this book and in Pauline theology can be equated with the glorious transformation of our earthly bodies and the "new creation" which will entail a restoration or revamping of this universe. If theologians look to the scientists’ model of the ultimate demise of this universe in a fire or whimper, instead of  to the grounds of hope and joy which is the goal of their inquiry, something much less probably awaits them.  In my assessment, it takes as much faith, if not more, to believe in the scientific predictions, which are revised from year to year or more often, of some event trillions and trillions years away, than to trust the Biblical records and pronouncements that provide the kind of hope that "does not disappoint us." (Romans. 5:5)

I find coherence between my concept of the soul (an individual identity-information record including one’s individual salvation history) and the concept advanced by Polkinghorne.  Somewhat like Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas, He regards the soul as the form or pattern that links the one who dies in this world with the one who lives embodied in the matter of the world to come.  In my view, this form or pattern includes a record of those human relationships that help make one who one is as well as a record of one’s unique creaturely relationship with God.

Especially because of his background in mathematics and physics, I am additionally encouraged by and delighted with Polkinghorne’s view that "resurrected beings will not only be embodied in the 'matter' of the new creation, they will also be located in its 'space' and immersed in its 'time.'" That, to me, is an expression of a bold Christian witness regarding the materiality of the resurrected body in real space and time dimensions.

Donald Juel’s "Christian Hope and the Denial of Death" informs us that his task is to suggest ways of testing, critiquing and deepening our ways of imagining "last things" from the perspective of various disciplines and to do so in a way that takes seriously what we believe God has to do with them. At Princeton, his own discipline and area of expertise is the New Testament.  After analyzing a number of biblical passages, especially several in the Gospel of Mark, he concludes by asking this question:  "Is God, as God can be known and experienced, trustworthy?" Referring to life beyond the grave, he states that "Whether these promises are ultimately plausible to our contemporaries and are to be trusted—whether or not there is something beyond the reality of death and the end of the created order—is, of course, something that remains to be seen."  Such an ending is anticlimactic and disappointing despite the other things he may have said that positively raised the grounds of hope and joy, the rationale behind the project that resulted in this book.

Hans Weder, Professor of New Testament and President of the University of Zurich in "Metaphor and Reality" in the Appendix proposes two necessary conditions for dialogue between science and theology:  (1)  "Natural science has to keep in mind the limitations of its construction of reality and has to acknowledge the basic openness of reality to a deeper (and eventually religious) dimension. (2) Theology has to use the word God in such a way that transcendence is not an indispensable factor in explaining reality, but rather a dimension enriching the perception of reality. Theology therefore must not use religious concepts in such a way that secular explanations are excluded. Theology has to use the word God, not as the counterpart of secular perception, but as the opportunity for deeper insight: to discover the secret of reality in the midst of riddles, solved as well as unsolved."

I was eager to discover how Weder handles the resurrection and the believer’s resurrected body when using his two parameters, only to find that he does not include such a discussion.  He does rescue the situation somewhat by quoting the claim of  Romans 1:20 that the invisible things of heaven can be understood and seen through the things God has made. He states that "The divine is perceptible in the form of a deep dimension that is accessible only to thoughtful reason. The things of the universe lie before everybody's eyes. Their secret, however, is invisible, to be perceived only by reason that turns to their deeper dimension."  Weder defines neither the "deeper dimension" nor "thoughtful reason."  Might this so-called deep or deeper dimension be that which is discerned by the eye of faith?  Might thoughtful reason be reason that is shaped by faith? 

If the resurrected body belongs to the realm of the divine, as it surely does, I believe it can be understood through the things God has made, and this includes our earthly bodies.  Jesus’ resurrection, the prototype of the believer’s resurrected body, is a window into the secret of the things of the universe which can be perceived by thoughtful reason as revealing resurrection’s deeper dimension. Weder’s observation reinforces the assertion in my book that when we admit into our worldview the concept of an ultradimentional reality, the believer’s resurrected body can be defended in public discourse which seeks warrants for theology’s claims to truth.

In "Resurrection and Eternal Life," Michael Welker discusses the reality of Jesus’ resurrection which, as I have indicated, is intimately and importantly tied to the believer’s resurrection in the eschaton. I am especially glad that he discusses both the palpability of the presence of the resurrected Christ as well as the presence of an appearance.  He writes that "It is important to see that the encounters with the resurrected Christ as witnessed by the scriptures take different forms, from visions of light to the appearance of a person with all the the impressions of palpability...All the witnesses to the resurrected Christ refer to the new presence, the presence in a different mode [emphasis mine] of the pre-Easter Jesus Christ....In intelligible ways they are directed toward a new reality."  

My concept of the twin-modes of Jesus’ resurrection and their corollaries in the believer’s resurrected body seems to find confirmation in Welker’s observation. The palpability that he talks about is what my book calls the "physical mode."  The presence of an appearance, a different mode, is the "transphysical mode" in my construct.

Welker brings up the topic of  canonic memory, the living cultural memory of the canon of biblical traditions, and the living Christ.  He declares that "It is through the working of the spirit and through the working of God’s creativity that the memory of Christ does not sink to a merely historical remembrance, or even to a multitude of remembrances....For living memory, it is crucial that there is a connection between the multifariousness of the witnesses, the establishment of a common medium, and the reference to the historico-empirical past person or event. All these factors have to come together. In the case of the resurrected Christ they do all come together in an exemplary way, through the establishment of what the Bible calls faith, namely the objective faith that has come with Christ. (Gal.3:25)."

When he concludes his chapter and this entire book as its co-editor, it is significant, and to me a great delight, that Welker summarizes its multi-author dialogue by declaring, "The perception of eternal life in the life of the resurrected [I might add with their resurrected bodies] is the foundation of a meaningful and genuine hope that understands and ennobles this world in the light of the incarnated and the coming Christ."

John T. Baldwin:

In this review I comment briefly on an essay by John Polkinghorne entitled, "Eschatology: Some Questions and Some Insights from Science" which is chapter 2 of The End of the World and the Ends of God: Science and Theology on Eschatology.  I also comment on recent lectures at Berkeley by Sir John Polkinghorne and Robert John Russell in which they both provided further thoughts about some of the ideas in Polkinghorne's essay.

The title of this book plays on the word "end." In view of the certain scientific "end" (terminus ad quem, or the physical dissolution of our planet), what "ends" (purposes, goals, objectives) may God have in mind? 

Science has its own certain eschatology. It claims that in about five billion years our sun will swell and become a red giant that destroys life in our solar system,  Both Polkinghorne and Russell reject this scientific eschatology by appealing to the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ and the faithfulness (chesed) of God.

According to Polkinghorne, the empty tomb of Christ demonstrates that the Lord’s risen body is not a resuscitation of the old, but its transmutation and glorification.  This implies that the matter of the new creation will be neither identical to nor wholly different from the old but divinely transmuted. Thus there will be discontinuity yet continuity between the old creation and the new. The deceased human person will be held in the active memory of the divine mind until his or her re-embodiment within the life of the world to come. He or she will there participate in a form of continuity between the old creation and the new that will include a beatific vision.  This will not be some atemporal illumination but an "unceasing exploration of the riches of the divine nature."

This raises a pressing question:  Why did God first elect a pathway of death and suffering in the old creation rather than going directly to the new?  Polkinghorne responds, in what I call a descriptive fashion, by suggesting that God did not first make a new creation, because the divine purpose is to create the new not through an ex nihilo event, but rather through a transformation of the old ex vetere. Whether this descriptive account adequately addresses this specific issue remains an open question. 

In the spring of this year, I attended an Advanced Science and Religion Conference sponsored by the Center for Theology and the Natural Sciences (CTNS) at Berkeley, California in the United States. This conference, which was funded by the John Templeton Foundation, focused on the striking theme of science, theology and eschatology. The principle guest lecturers were Polkinghorne and Russell. The latter speaker, who is the physicist/theologian founder of CTNS, opened the conference with a seminal lecture outlining a new project, a new paradigm or research program.

Russell reminded the audience that science has its own eschatology which claims that in four to five billion years our solar system will die, and with it all forms of life on planet earth will perish. Moreover, in time the entire universe will be overtaken by a "freeze or fry" terminus ad quem. Russell contended that this almost universally endorsed scientific eschatology is not consonant with the biblical concept of a new creation. Not only does this scientific eschatology pose a serious challenge to Christianity, he asserted, it virtually falsifies it. "What is God up to?" wondered Russell, "if all he does is to enable some life forms to achieve existence but eventually everything comes to dissolution?" 

In light of this situation, Russell identified the need for a new methodological approach in science and theology. For some time now, he indicated, science has dictated to theology. He claimed that it may now be time for theology again to direct science. This means that it is time for the Christian community to take what Russell called the "hard road," by embracing the language of "the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ" and the concept of a "new creation" which flows from it. 

Needless to say, by this point in Russell's lecture, the conferees were riveted to each statement he made as they realized the paradigm-changing significance of his words. The remainder of the conference, including the lecture by John Polkinghorne, which followed immediately after Russell’s keynote address, unpacked and wrestled with this new thesis and its relation to the claims of post-modern science.

Polkinghorne addressed the conference by endorsing but extending the framework and details of the new paradigm outlined by Russell. Polkinghorne agreed with Russell about accepting the bodily resurrection of Christ and embracing the idea of a new creation. Most interestingly, in my view, Polkinghorne also predicted that, based upon the biblical concept of a new creation, there will be no "freeze or fry." He emphasized Romans 8:21-23 which indicates that the whole creation groans to be delivered.

Polkinghorne also raised and wrestled with the questions:  If God is moving to a new creation, why did God not proceed directly? Why is God taking these billions of years to get to  a new creation? Polkinghorne attempted to address these serious questions by describing the present process as some kind of needful prelude to the new creation. Thus, there is continuity and discontinuity between the present and the future, he contended.

At the conclusion of Polkinghorne’s lecture, attendees were invited to present questions.  When at the microphone, I asked him whether there would be evolution in the new creation. He immediately responded that there would be no evolution in the new creation, but that there would be development. Afterward, I asked him whether there would be death in the developmental process in the new creation. He replied that he believes that there will be no death in the new creation. Significantly, this seems to suggest that Polkinghorne is willing to characterize the new creation as a predation-free habitat, one perhaps analogous to the classic wolf/lamb phenomenon described in Isaiah 65:25.

The two presentations by Russell and Polkinghorne at Berkeley represent the cutting edge of research and the latest thinking by two leading liberal Christian scientist/theologians on the relationships between science and theology. Significantly, a new paradigm is emerging in which theology now takes the lead over science in the area of eschatology and does so based upon the faithfulness of God. Time will tell how this new approach is received by other Christian theologians, scientists, and biblical scholars. 

It is indeed significant that theologians such as Polkinghorne and Russell are prepared to reject scientific eschatology for biblical theological reasons.  This rejection is a remarkable, brave, and laudable ideological development in itself. It causes me to wonder whether consistency might lead theologians to consider rejecting scientific protology on similar grounds.

Nevertheless, during the lectures at the Berkeley I found my Adventist heart saying "Amen!" as point after point of the new vision was advanced. The need for such a vision has been partially but tragically underscored by the recent horrific terrorist destruction of the World Trade Center in New York City. In sum, the new concepts articulated by these two thinkers open a fresh opportunity for fruitful dialogue between their views and aspects of classic Adventist eschatology.