Alice and apocalypse
Stephen
Curkpatrick
“The
‘literary world of the Bible’ invites people into an alternative vision of reality.”
This may seem plausible before any forum of interrogation concerning biblical
veracity. Yet merely as a literary phenomenon, biblical testimony is effectively
disengaged from disclosure and decision pertaining to redemption in human life.
Biblical
testimony invokes something more than participation in a literary world. God is
involved in the particulars of human life, not as mythic or poetic sentiments
but as dynamic, eventful and redemptive reality in which tangible decisions affect
human destiny.
The
‘literary world of the Bible’ was embraced as a means of avoiding the modern focus
on historical scrutiny. By situating the Bible within a literary world of myth
and poetry, any assault on biblical veracity was assumedly avoided. Yet biblical
testimony consistently challenges the unreality of mythical perspective and surpasses
cultural categories of expression through the pervasive tone of apokalypsis
or revelation. Apocalypse appeals to imagination and is wholly tangible, while
surpassing the demands of historical scrutiny as anticipation of new possibilities
in grace.
Apocalypse
is often equated with Revelation and similar writings known as apocalyptic writings,
yet these do not define its scope of expression. Apocalypse concerns God who is
disclosed as saviour in whom we are called to trust. Whether in story, prophetic
word, song or letter, apocalypse encompasses remembrance of every “today” in which
God’s salvation is anticipated and invoked.
Apocalypse
pervades biblical testimony and presents creation’s true future as the redemptive
reality of God encountering humans in the response of faith. Apocalypse calls
forth response, anticipation in faith and proclamation of God’s saving reign becoming
explicit as tangible for humanity within creation.
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However
the images are projected, apocalypse as testimony to the reality of God anticipated
and becoming explicit exceeds our scope of knowing because the future remains
unknown, despite attempts to frame it with predictability. Precisely as tangible,
the future is fantastic because it arrives as surprise and crisis, otherwise we
do not generally noticed its arriving. The future intrigues and frightens; it
haunts with spectres and visions of terrifying possibilities; it can arrive as
a nightmare in actual experience.
The
characteristic images of apocalyptic writings are not amiss in casting the future
in surreal imagery, for the future represents an impervious wall to our penetration
with sure knowledge. It is the realm of anticipation, yet it arrives otherwise
than human anticipation. Even in our anticipation, the future comes as surprise.
People change and settled configurations of human expectation are upstaged and
contested daily. Within small communities and whole societies, the future never
arrives entirely as expected, even if small shifts in our expectations do not
occur as crises.
Relationships
are a source of surprise and crisis. The many vocative encounters and volitional
possibilities initiated by others are not predictable by the ratio of cause and
effect that is evident within natural phenomena. In their freedom, humans can
be tragically unpredictable and delightfully surprising. Even more so, the vocative
call of God to humanity exceeds in surprise and implications, any other vocative
experience within human life.
Apocalypse
does not give us Alice in Wonderland—a literary world we might enter in order
to experience another reality, only to return again to our own world, perhaps
with a magical vision of the way things could be. Apocalypse gives us our
world as violent, with the horsemen of The Apocalypse, yet also surprising
in grace as events of faithfulness and joy lived toward the reality of God.
Apocalypse
gives reality itself as fantastic because it is haunted by human sinfulness with
its bizarre twists and turns in assuming to be wise only to invoke wrath in the
midst of life, imposing its effects on the culpable and innocent alike. Apocalypse
is also joyous with the call to repentance, opening a realm of redemptive possibility
that exceeds the constrictions of human limit and weight of mortality as it presses
down on life. This is fantastic and tangible at the one time. It is not another
literary world of myth and poetry but the disclosure of reality, fantastic reality,
which exists in the midst of life. Redemptive reality can only be disclosed, which
is why apocalypse is revelation and its announcement, for ears to hear.
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If
the Bible is merely a literary world into which we enter in order to gain a different
perspective, this is no different from any number of ways in which people gain
another perspective through engagement with the arts in general and literature
in particular. This approach nurtures a general religious or spiritual sensibility
that is concerned with believing in the magic of believing as an important activity
of human life. Believing, in this sense, may consist of an imaginative vision
but it does not give a world in which God acts redemptively. It only gives a vision
with which we ourselves may or may not change our existing world.
If
the biblical vision is not redemptive and transformative, any literary vision
derived from it will only become an empty cipher that is given content through
other ideals—social, political and religious. In the absence of redemptive possibility
and transformation, any spiritual vision for a different kind of world
inevitably, will be attached or linked to some vision within society about the
world as it should be. There is no shortage of such visions and various systems
in which they are expressed.
A
selected vision from biblical literature can be given expression through a particular
partisan vision of ‘the world as it is should be.’ While the end may be laudable,
the partisan means thwart it. Such is the propensity of human idealism to scuttle
its own possibility of the good through partisan contest and compromise within
projections of the way things should be.
A
literary vision that is linked to an existing social ideal is inevitably dominated
by this ideal, which becomes an adjudicative means of determining what vision
is actually derived from the many images in biblical literature. A social ideal,
with its invariably partisan agendas, will adjudicate on which biblical images
are supposedly useful and which are not in the forums of social contest.
A
contemporary social ideal offers something assumedly more tangible than an ancient
literary vision. Any vision derived from the literary world of the Bible can therefore
be assimilated into another extrinsic social possibility, conveying a mere reminiscence
of the biblical world, while it gives vociferous voice to a possibility extrinsic
to faith. A social ideal therefore becomes a dominant paradigm while any redemptive
possibilities of biblical testimony slip into a sense of unrealism, even if these
are given lip-service.
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What
then is missing from a ‘literary world of the Bible’ deployed as a locale of imagination
that is assumedly impervious to critique? God, the sovereign lord
of creation and humanity—who calls to be things that are not, redeems and
makes new—is missing. God of Jesus Christ, who is crucified and risen, recreating
through the transforming power of the Holy Spirit, is missing.
Merely
as a literary world, biblical testimony is another version of Plato’s Cave, where
reality is only human activity casting shadows on a cave wall. It may have aesthetic
appeal, simulate spiritual sensibilities or become a focus of general religious
conjecture and debate. Yet it will not give testimony to the Word that was with
God in the beginning, who is expressed in grace and truth as the Word who became
flesh to make a tangible difference to humans in anticipation of God as the redemptive
hope for humanity. This hope is disclosed as a reality for human life in Jesus
Christ.