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De-creation language: it’s not the end of the world

There are a few parts of the New Testament which contain dramatic language about divine judgement resulting in what appears to be a cataclysmic end to the world, or even the solar system. Some of these passages include Matthew 24-25, 2 Peter 3, and lots of passages in the book of Revelation. If you’re not familiar with them, I suggest you grab a Bible and have a good look at them.

These passages (and others) contain imagery and themes sometimes called “de-creation language“. This language is characterized by expressions which seem to imply destruction of the creation as we know it. You’ll find the heavens being destroyed by fire, the elements melting, stars falling from the sky, rivers of blood, and levels of distress unequalled in human history. It’s “apocalyptic” stuff.

The question is, how should we interpret these passages? Should we automatically assume they are referring to a dramatic, convulsive destruction of planet earth and the heavenly bodies at some point in the future? Over the last 2000 years, many interpreters of the Bible have concluded just that. I personally used to think that too. But not anymore.

If we look at similar passages in the Old Testament, we discover a consistent pattern which can help us interpret de-creation language in the New Testament. Let me introduce several relevant Old Testament texts and offer some brief observations:

I will sweep away everything
    from the face of the earth,”
declares the Lord.
“I will sweep away both man and beast;
    I will sweep away the birds in the sky
    and the fish in the sea—
    and the idols that cause the wicked to stumble.”

“When I destroy all mankind
    on the face of the earth,”
declares the Lord [. . .] (Zephaniah 1:2-3; NIV)

In this prophetic book, God (through Zephaniah son of Cushi) promises judgment on “all mankind”. Then, in verse 4, it clarifies that this prophecy applies to Judah and particularly Jerusalem. The scary, hyperbolic language is used to convey the certainty and severity of the judgment to come. The whole world is implied, but the context is clear this applies to Judah (and later, the nations surrounding Judah; cf. chapter 2). The fulfilment of this prophecy against Judah is found in the Babylonian conquest of Judah and the forcible removal of many of its inhabitants. Thus, this prophecy of judgment is to begin to come to fruition within the next 50-70 years after it is given.

Here’s another one:

Look! The Lord is coming from his dwelling place;
    he comes down and treads on the heights of the earth.
The mountains melt beneath him
    and the valleys split apart,
like wax before the fire,
    like water rushing down a slope. (Micah 1:3-4; NIV)

Wow. Mountains will melt, and valleys will split apart. Surely such events made international news! Oh. In the context it’s talking about God’s judgment on Samaria and Jerusalem.

Micah prophesied during a time when the Neo-Assyrian empire was growing in power. The brutal Assyrian invasion of the northern Kingdom of Israel took place in two key phases, 721-720BC and 714-701BC. This dramatic prophecy was fulfilled during the lifetime of the prophet. Don’t worry, the mountains didn’t melt, so you can still go on that skiing holiday.

The Lord is angry with all nations;
    his wrath is on all their armies.
He will totally destroy them,
    he will give them over to slaughter.
Their slain will be thrown out,
    their dead bodies will stink;
    the mountains will be soaked with their blood.
All the stars in the sky will be dissolved
    and the heavens rolled up like a scroll;
all the starry host will fall
    like withered leaves from the vine,
    like shriveled figs from the fig tree.

My sword has drunk its fill in the heavens;
    see, it descends in judgment on Edom,
    the people I have totally destroyed. (Isaiah 34:2-5; NIV)

This prophecy speaks of God’s judgment against the nations surrounding Zion. Edom is mentioned, mostly likely as representing all the nations which have attacked and oppressed God’s Old Testament people. This chapter is followed by a reassurance to those in Zion that God will strengthen them, and that “Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away” (35:10b). Again, his apocalyptic imagery finds its fulfilment in the immediate future after it is given. And no – the stars didn’t literally dissolve. Thank goodness for that.

I will throw you on the land
    and hurl you on the open field.
I will let all the birds of the sky settle on you
    and all the animals of the wild gorge themselves on you.
I will spread your flesh on the mountains
    and fill the valleys with your remains.
I will drench the land with your flowing blood
    all the way to the mountains,
    and the ravines will be filled with your flesh.
When I snuff you out, I will cover the heavens
    and darken their stars;
I will cover the sun with a cloud,
    and the moon will not give its light.
All the shining lights in the heavens
    I will darken over you;
    I will bring darkness over your land,
declares the Sovereign Lord. (Ezekiel 32:4-8; NIV)

Rivers of blood, a dark moon, thick cloud cover, valleys filled with corpses, no stars shining in the night sky. It’s the stuff of nightmares. But it’s not strictly literal. It’s a message to the King of Egypt, warning him of his impending doom at the hands of the Babylonians. As a matter of historical fact, that happened. But where are all the valleys filled with tens of thousands of human skeletons? They don’t exist. They don’t need to.

When you, Lord, went out from Seir,
    when you marched from the land of Edom,
the earth shook, the heavens poured,
    the clouds poured down water. (Judges 5:4; NIV)

This is part of a victory song which pictures God’s as Israel’s champion, going out conquer the enemies of God’s people – in this case Jabin, King of Canaan (and Sisera, the commander of his army) who had oppressed the Israelites. While the language is somewhat tame compared to the previous examples, we note it is given to express God’s destruction of an enemy force in judgment.

In my distress I called to the Lord;
    I cried to my God for help.
From his temple he heard my voice;
    my cry came before him, into his ears.
The earth trembled and quaked,
    and the foundations of the mountains shook;
    they trembled because he was angry.
Smoke rose from his nostrils;
    consuming fire came from his mouth,
    burning coals blazed out of it.
He parted the heavens and came down;
    dark clouds were under his feet.
He mounted the cherubim and flew;
    he soared on the wings of the wind.
He made darkness his covering, his canopy around him—
    the dark rain clouds of the sky.
Out of the brightness of his presence clouds advanced,
    with hailstones and bolts of lightning.
The Lord thundered from heaven;
    the voice of the Most High resounded.
He shot his arrows and scattered the enemy,
    with great bolts of lightning he routed them.
The valleys of the sea were exposed
    and the foundations of the earth laid bare
at your rebuke, Lord,
    at the blast of breath from your nostrils. (Psalm 18:6-18; NIV)

Amazingly, this dramatic language relates to God’s deliverance of David from all his enemies. Later in the Psalm, God is seen as empowering and enabling David to overcome those who would oppose him. The Psalm says “He is the God who avenges me, who subdues nations under me, who saves me from my enemies. You exalted me above me foes; from a violent man you rescued me.” (Psalm 18:47-48)

It is understood that David is celebrating his deliverance from various attacks from King Saul and other people groups hostile to his rule. Here’s what J. A. Motyer says about the language in this Psalm:

Reading from the title into the psalm we say, but it wasn’t like that at all! When, in David’s story, did the Lord come swooping to his aid, riding on a cherub (10)? Storms (12) were sent to deliver (Jos. 10:11) but not in David’s story; the Lord’s wind (15) carved a path through the Red Sea (Ex. 14:21; 15:10), but no such incident is recorded for David. David was delivered by different means: a Philistine raid (1 Sa. 23:26f), the wildness of the terrain (1 Sa. 24:1-3), Saul’s impressionable conscience (1 Sa. 24, 26), even by flight (1 Sa. 27:1).

But this seeming contrast between the terms of the psalm and the terms of the story is in fact the whole point. When David looked back from the vantage point of deliverance, he knew that it could only have been done by the Lord of Sinai (7-8; cf Ex. 19:18), of the judgments on Egypt (9-12; cf Ex. 9:13ff; 10:21ff), and of the Red Sea (15), respectively, the Lord acting in holiness, judgment and deliverance. This is the meaning of the vivid imagery: behind all his circumstances lies the supernatural working of God.

Those are great comments to end with. The dramatic de-creation language we find in the Old Testament is given to convey a connotative feeling to the reader of the dramatic importance and relevance of the God-given message. In virtually every instance, de-creation language refers to the divine judgment and destruction of kings, kingdoms, people groups, or cities within the near future or recent past (relative to the original giving of the prophecy). In no case does it refer to the actual destruction of the earth or the heavenly bodies, nor an event several thousand years in the future.

However, when we get to the New Testament this kind of language is often taken – not as hyperbolic, dramatic, apocalyptic, symbol-laden prophecy – but as a prediction of global geographic, meteorological, and astronomical destructive events!

How weird and inconsistent.

In the broader context of covenantal/redemptive history along with literary conventions used consistently in the Old Testament, a woodenly literal reading of de-creation language in the New Testament is seriously mistaken.

De-creation language is serious and important, but don’t worry – it’s not the end of the world.