Allen, Michael. Grounded in Heaven. William B. Eerdmans.
“This world is not my home/I’m just a passing through.” Is there a way to maintain a robust view of heaven as our telos while avoiding both Kuyperian triumphalism and pietism? Yes. It is called the Beatific Vision.
In this short book, Michael Allen documents and bemoans the eschatological naturalism, a view that prioritizes the “shalom of the city” over the vision of God, that has infected much of North American evangelicalism. To be sure, there is nothing wrong with the “shalom of the city.” Nonetheless, for those who want to “transform culture,” the city, usually associated with a local urban ministry, tend to displace heaven.
A Patristic Lacuna?
Allen notes that when some Neo-Calvinist critics of heaven, notably Richard Middleton, allege that the tradition, particularly the patristic tradition, is influenced by Neo-Platonism, they almost never cite examples apart from Augustine’s comments in Confessions and City of God.
Calvin, on the other hand, anchors our hope in heaven without committing himself to Platonism. His hermeneutics show that the blessings promised in the Torah have spiritual significance in their fulfillment.
Tension in a Neo-Calvinist Critique
It is common to refer, not without reason, to the Greeks as a “people of the eye,” ala Berkouwer. But if it is the case that Greek metaphysics infected Christian theology, then why the Patristic insistence that God is invisible, however else we may understand the vision of God at the end? It is true that elements of Platonism are evident in Patristic metaphysics. It is simply that Neo-Calvinists often have a hard time finding a) what they are and b) why they are bad.
The Person of the Son as the Object of Vision
Allen argues that “the Son as Son is visible. But the Son as Son is visible by means of his humanity.” In doing this he draws heavily upon John Owen’s work.
Retrieving the Ascetical Way of Life with God
John Owen’s treatise on the good of being spiritually minded is probably familiar to Reformed thinkers. Some of Owen’s specifics, however, might not be. Owen is not simply giving us pious meditations. In a practical manner, he points out that our “thoughts [manifest] and mold our affections” (Allen). As Allen concludes from this, “the span of spiritual mindedness flows epistemologically from its ontological character.” Allen does not specifically say this, but it follows naturally from his argument: metaphysics precedes epistemology. After Kant, and particularly in the 20th century, epistemology, the “turn to the knowing subject,” took center stage. As a result, Reformed thinkers often had trouble navigating issues, primarily with the doctrine of God but also, as we see today, with the Beatific Vision, that demanded metaphysical reflection.
Here is a case in point: Klaas Schilder. Any Neo-Calvinist figure would do, but Schilder exemplifies it best. I say this as someone who reveres his heroic stand against the Nazis. But whenever Schilder approached metaphysical reflection, he simply bemoaned the scholasticism he found in men like Kuyper. We are often left wondering what he means by scholasticism, and by extension metaphysics. Not surprisingly, when he turns to heaven, it is often a critique against the Tradition.
Conclusion
There is a danger, however, in returning to a classical view of the Beatific Vision. Since it is true that reorienting our desires to heaven, not earth, will keep our earthly desires in their proper place, thus legitimizing them, we might be tempted to use the Beatific Vision to promote the earthly desires, such as “shalom for the city.” This is a fatal mistake, since God must be sought for his own sake, not as an instrument for other ends.
Allen ends with a fruitful exposition on Calvin, Union with Christ, and Heaven as our homeland, captured in Calvin’s famous line: “If heaven is our homeland, what else is earth but our place of exile” (Calvin, ICR, III.x.5)?