For many Christians, eschatology—the study of the Bible’s teaching on end times—feels like the stuff of dry theological debates, complicated charts, or gloomy forebodings. As a result, many people tend to either obsess over it or avoid it altogether.
But these opposite approaches to eschatology are entirely unnecessary. In the past, the study of eschatology, especially the study of prophecies yet to be fulfilled, has fueled hope and holiness.
There is probably no better place to see this than in Iain Murray’s book, now over half a century old, The Puritan Hope: Revival and the Interpretation of Prophecy. (All page numbers in this article refer to the 1974 reprinting.)
Murray shows that the Puritans held the belief that at some point in the future, before the return of Christ, the Jews would turn to Christ, and this would be followed by a massive awakening among Gentiles (Romans 11:11-32). This view of unfulfilled prophecy was an important feature of their spirituality and formed the theological catalyst for the great missionary movement that began in the late 18th century.
One section of Murray’s book in particular demonstrates how the Puritans’ view of biblical prophecy energized three areas of Christian living, I think these are worth our careful consideration today. I’ve reworded Murray’s statements for the sake of making them more directly personal.
1. Eschatology can strengthen your confidence in Christ’s present work.
The Puritans owed much to the theology of John Calvin, particularly his emphasis on the universal lordship of Jesus Christ. When Jesus ascended to heaven, he was not leaving his church to muddle through on her own; rather, through his Spirit, whom he had poured on the church, Christ is continuing to exercise his kingly power. Thus, our confidence in the spread of the gospel rests not in ourselves, but in the present all-encompassing authority of Jesus. “All authority in heaven and on earth is given to me,” Jesus proclaimed before his ascension, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19).
As Murray explains, “The mediatorial work of Jesus did not cease at his death and resurrection; that work, for the gathering and perfecting of his Church continues, and its ultimate success rests securely upon the position which Christ now occupies. Lordship is his present possession.” The Puritans took seriously the Apostle Paul’s assertion that Christ “must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet” (1 Corinthians 15:25), and viewed this reign not just as a future time to begin after Jesus’ return, but as a present reality, since “he has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers having been subjected to him” (1 Peter 3:22).
This confidence inspired sermons such as one preached by George Newton (1602-1681) in which he exhorted his hearers: “Oh, let it cheer our spirits under all the sinking damps and deep discouragements that are upon them in relation to the church, to think in what blessed state and glorious posture she will be, when Christ shall have declared his Father’s name to all the nations under heaven, when the Jews shall be converted, and when the fulness of the Gentiles shall come in” (91).
2. Eschatology can deepen your commitment to the church.
What Murray noted in 1971 about self-focused spirituality is probably even more characteristic in our day: “Piety is too often thought of in a purely personal way.” The American evangelical approach to spirituality is notoriously individualistic, and many Christians think of the church as an accessory to their personal quest for wholeness, healing, or authenticity. This baneful individualism must face off against a robust eschatology, which inevitably sees the church as playing a key role in God’s plan for the future.
The church is God’s chosen means to display his saving wisdom, and it is where his Spirit lives and manifests his presence; therefore, Christians ought to prioritize the church’s gatherings, unity, ordinances, and well-being. Writes Murray: “If the church is the God-appointed means for the advancement of this kingdom, then her future is beyond all doubt” (96).
Eschatology—instead of producing a self-focused individual anxiety or a bunker-down mentality—expands our view of what is happening every time the church gathers: we are part of God’s promises being fulfilled. The Westminster Catechism draws the connection between ecclesiology and eschatology when it states that “Christ has given to the church the responsibility to preach, disciple, administrate ordinances, until the end of the world” (96).
This prophecy-informed ardor for the church is illustrated by the dying words of a Scottish woman, Elizabeth Hayward: “The church is dear to the Lord, and he will not suffer it always to be trampled upon. O sirs, let the church of God lie near your hearts, it lies near God’s heart: ‘They shall prosper that love Zion’” (99).
3. Eschatology can motivate and expand your prayers.
How common is it, I wonder, for people to conclude an in-depth discussion about eschatology with an outpouring of prayer? But this is precisely the effect of the Puritans’ understanding of unfulfilled prophecy.
Expecting to see a future conversion of the Jewish people followed by a general revival of Gentiles, the Puritans prayed that these events would take place. Even before the writing of the Westminster Standards (1649), “the call to prayer for the conversion of the Jews and for the success of the gospel through the world was already a feature of Puritan congregations” (99). Far from leading to apathy, eschatology can invigorate our personal and corporate prayer.
As Murray notes, “Sometimes the call to prayer had special reference to the Jews. John Owen, preaching before the House of Commons in 1649, speaks of the ‘bringing home of his ancient people to be one fold with the fulness of the Gentiles . . . in answer to millions of prayers put up at the throne of grace” (100). Owen, like his Puritan contemporaries, realized they were praying for something that might not take place in their lifetimes; still, they were settled in their resolve to bring this request to God.
In a cultural climate in which prayer—like nearly every other spiritual activity—tends to be be reduced to an exercise for personal spiritual enrichment, eschatology teaches us to pray for things that we might never see in our lifetime: future revival, the spread of the gospel, and the return of Jesus.
Since reading these pages of The Puritan Hope I have given a closer examination to unfulfilled prophecy in Scripture. I do believe on the one hand that Jesus’ appearing is our “blessed hope,” and that he come “like a thief in the night”—and on the other hand, that we should hope and pray that his return will be preceded by greater times of spiritual awakening than this world has ever seen (Romans 10:1; 1 Timothy 2:4).
After all, as the Apostle Peter writes, “the Lord is patient toward you, not willing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance” (2 Peter 3:9).
“Even so, come, Lord Jesus.”
