One
of the conceits of the Western tradition of historiography is that we
do not move in cycles. Humanity is not doomed, as in ‘dharmic’
conceptions of history, to unending cycles of boom and bust, of drive
and decadence, of creativity and collapse. Even the most cosmopolitan
members of Western or Middle Eastern or North African cultures will
affirm in their mode of living as well as in their thinking, that
human history has a beginning and that it is progressing toward some
definite end. All of the myths and especially all of the secular
theories we have generally propped up about the end of history –
the ‘eschaton’ – have been haunted by the Christian vision of
‘the End’ as articulated in the Apocalypse of S. John of Patmos.
The
Apocalypse is a highly tricky text, and with regard to it, secular
ideology and religious heterodoxy have some strange and sometimes
counter-intuitive ways of overlapping. For example, the two theories
approaching the end of history in Western Protestantism which have
gained the most currency over the several centuries of its existence
have been
pre-millennialism
and
post-millennialism.
Pre-millennialism
posits that we are living in the transitional age, one marked by
apostasy and iniquity, before the Second Coming of Christ; that we
are currently awaiting that Second Coming as a predictable event
subject to historical analysis, in which Christ will come to earth
and raise his elect up to heaven; and that this will inaugurate a
violent time of tribulation prefiguring the Millennium, in which
Christ will reign in an age of perfection for a thousand years prior
to the Final Judgement. Pre-millennialism is, in modern America, most
closely associated with the theorising of the Irish Anglican
churchman John Nelson Darby, American Presbyterian minister Cyrus
Scofield and their intellectual heirs. It is propagated most
intensely by the Protestant fundamentalists of the American
‘religious right’, such as Hal Lindsey, Jerry Falwell, and of
course the infamous authors of the
Left Behind
series, Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins. As such, it is most closely
associated with
laisser-faire
economic policymaking, social policy based upon the policing of
domestic enemies, and an instrumentalist foreign policy whose primary
aims are to inaugurate the Second Coming through (for example)
support of the modern secular state of Israel.
The
delicious irony of this heretical eschatology, so popular on the
American right, is that these ideas – our living in a transitional
age marked by iniquity; the eschaton as a foreseeable historical
event; the eschaton as preceded by a violent tribulation for
humankind – were being propagated at the same time as Darby by a
secular ideology which is supposedly its polar opposite. Karl Marx
was a pre-millennialist. The development of capitalism represents a
transitional age marked by exploitation. In this age, we are awaiting
the predictable event, amenable to historical analysis (hence,
‘scientific socialism’!) of the salvific awakening of
revolutionary consciousness amongst the urban proletariat. This will
ignite a violent world revolution prefiguring the utopian age of a
classless and stateless society. The basic forms of Marxist and of
fundamentalist Protestant belief are eerily similar, but even more
eerie are the similarities in their
praxis!
Lenin was the first to openly advocate ‘heightening’ or
‘accelerating the contradictions’: an instrumentalist approach
which would seek to ignite the revolutionary consciousness of the
proletariat by ‘striv[ing] to support, accelerate, facilitate
development along the present path [of capitalism]’. One also
hardly need mention that Marxism-Leninism built its social policy
upon the policing of domestic enemies, nor that it sought to use its
foreign policy to inaugurate the coming world revolution.
On
the other hand, the eschatology historically most welcomed by liberal
Christians is
post-millennialism.
This eschatology posits that the forces of the Church loosed by
Christ’s Great Commission will gradually and eventually save the
world’s culture through the spread of the Gospel and inaugurate an
era of piety and prosperity in
preparation
for the Second Coming of Christ. Believing in the righteousness of
advances in Christian civilisation, the post-millennialists began to
apply their eschatology to worthy social movements. To a significant
extent, the post-millennialist eschatology inspired the religious
vector of the labour-rights, suffrage, abolition and temperance
movements of the 19
th
century, and the civil-rights movement in the 20
th.
It has generally found a very comfortable alliance with liberal and
social-democratic reform movements, parliamentarian and technocratic
governance.
The
involvement of this eschatology in such manifestly worthy causes as
organised labour, women’s suffrage, abolition and the like would
prima facie appear to
indicate its orthodoxy. But problems begin to appear on close
examination: no longer does it look to the outside. Participation in
the mystery of Holy Eucharist and in the Symbol of Faith are
abandoned for their secular equivalents (does the Holy Spirit speak
with the voice of 50% of voters, plus one?). The faith in the
culture-transforming power of the Church dovetails a bit too neatly
with a naïve faith in civilisational Progress.
It
is worth remembering that the American progressives and liberals who
supported many of these movements – suffrage, abolition, temperance
– also supported the nationalistic struggle over the civilisational
burden which had its most horrific consequences in the world wars of
the 20
th
century (the centenary of the beginning of the first of which we are
bafflingly starting to celebrate). Worse still, the too-close
identification of Church with the culture led to its co-optation by
so-called ‘positive Christianity’ in Nazi Germany and the
clerical fascism of Franco’s Spain and the Ustaše
regime in Croatia. But it has to be noted that progressives still –
for the most part – believe in an eschaton which transcends
material contingencies (like those of race and social class).
Fascists explicitly reject any transcendental grounding of the
eschaton, which is to be achieved in violent world-historical terms
by a single charismatic bearer of a homogeneous world civilisation.
To equate the two is vacuous and morally indefensible.
But
one has to note some disturbing parallels. There is a tendency in
both to a deracinated, depersonalised ecclesiology. There is a
tendency in both to fetishise technology and technocracy in the
service of carrying the civilisational burden. There is in each a
call to mastery over man and nature which appeals to an appetite for
authority without giving authority for the appetite.
And
just so that there is no mistake: amongst the ranks of the secular
cultural post-millennialists I count also the right-libertarians and
neoconservatives (the talking heads of Fox News and practically
anyone who has written for
Reason
magazine, the
National Review
or the
Weekly Standard)
who call for national ‘renewal’ and look for world-historical
salvation to cultural artefacts of the American founding, such as the
Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, and to the ‘civil
millennial’ promises of the American experiment. It is simply that,
for them, the building of the New Jerusalem is to be equated with a
return to patriotic fervour and with an ever-broadening range of
personal liberties. They no less than the progressives seek to
inaugurate the Kingdom through human effort and mastery alone, and to
locate it within the ‘shining city upon a hill’. Theirs also is
the legacy of colonialism and the mythology of Progress which I
highlighted in
‘Awakening to a Nightmare’.
As
the Lord’s Prayer teaches us to pray, man lives day-to-day upon his
daily bread and upon the forgiveness of sins – but bread is found
neither in heightening the contradictions nor in technocratic
tinkering; forgiveness is found neither in revolutionary tribulation
nor in parliamentary prattle. And if the theological
pre-millennialism of the American ‘religious right’ has its
secular mirror in Marxism-Leninism, and the theological
post-millennialism of American religious liberals can be moulded with
only subtle secular tweaks to the service of any of fascism,
neoconservatism or right-wing libertarianism, what alternative is
there?
If
the two heterodox models of the heavenly Thousand Year Plan have
their ends in such outcomes, perhaps it’s better to look to a
humbler model. The Apocalypse shows over and over that victory comes
to the humble and to the patient, who keep the works of God to the
end. Tolstoy may have been wrong on several important theological
points, but his anarchistic theological
narodnichestvo
had many deeply healthy impulses; perhaps it is well to say that it
is not the ‘Kingdom’ itself which is ‘within you’, but the
‘Millennium’. Our job is to stay wakeful, to till and sow earth,
to pick weeds and stones, to let the fruits grow; the day of harvest
will come like a thief in the night, and no man can hope to know the
hour. It will be
both
world-historical
and
personal, a true coming again in glory, but our hope can’t rest
either in searching the sky for signs or laying the stones of a new
Tower of Babel.
The
implications of this approach to the eschaton are profound, but they
are local and situated. Freed of the world-historical pretensions of
both millennialisms, an amillennial eschatology – even a
secularised one, insofar as one can be imagined! – throws itself
first at the service of community endeavours. ‘Bread for myself,’
as Russian philosopher Nikolai Berdyaev once put it, ‘that’s a
material question. Bread for my neighbour – that’s a spiritual
one.’ When the End disappears over the horizons of our human
reasoning, our politics no longer strives after it by any means;
instead, the shared means of bread and forgiveness for our neighbours
are the ends.