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The Hope of Glory: A Theology of Redemption
The Hope of Glory affirms a Christian hope for life in glory to be conceived as the renewal of this world as opposed to leaving this world it is the same creation that God made “in the beginning” that God glorifies and redeems at the end.
When speaking of the redemption of all things, theology finds itself confronted by various pitfalls. On the one hand, this-worldly eschatologies that define Christian hope in terms of transforming the conditions of human existence in the present pay insufficient attention to the possibility of a wholly new creation. On the other hand, eschatologies that focus solely on the world to come fail to attend how Christian hope is a promise for the present as much as it is for the future.
To avoid these pitfalls, says Ian McFarland, we need to seek the balance struck by Paul in the phrase “the hope of glory” (Col. 1:27). Hope is always grounded in present reality; we hope for that which is not yet, but if that hope has no connection to our current experience, it is not hope at all, just wishful thinking. Yet glory is different; it refers to the displacement of the suffering and mortality of present experience with incorruption and immortality—a displacement that transcends every possibility of present existence because it is the utterly gracious gift of eschatological consummation.
Drawing on his previous work on creation (From Nothing) and incarnation (The Word Made Flesh), McFarland demonstrates how, in the resurrection, we see the promise of a final redemption grounded in this-worldly hope yet realized in the glory of a new heaven and new earth.
When speaking of the redemption of all things, theology finds itself confronted by various pitfalls. On the one hand, this-worldly eschatologies that define Christian hope in terms of transforming the conditions of human existence in the present pay insufficient attention to the possibility of a wholly new creation. On the other hand, eschatologies that focus solely on the world to come fail to attend how Christian hope is a promise for the present as much as it is for the future.
To avoid these pitfalls, says Ian McFarland, we need to seek the balance struck by Paul in the phrase “the hope of glory” (Col. 1:27). Hope is always grounded in present reality; we hope for that which is not yet, but if that hope has no connection to our current experience, it is not hope at all, just wishful thinking. Yet glory is different; it refers to the displacement of the suffering and mortality of present experience with incorruption and immortality—a displacement that transcends every possibility of present existence because it is the utterly gracious gift of eschatological consummation.
Drawing on his previous work on creation (From Nothing) and incarnation (The Word Made Flesh), McFarland demonstrates how, in the resurrection, we see the promise of a final redemption grounded in this-worldly hope yet realized in the glory of a new heaven and new earth.
- GenresTheology
223 pages, Paperback
Published October 1, 2024
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September 24, 2025
The Hope of Glory: A Theology of Redemption feels like a very different theological approach to eschatology, the consideration of last things. Ian A. McFarland previously wrote the most insightful book on the Incarnation that I’ve read in years, The Word Made Flesh: A Theology of the Incarnation. Although the latter relies heavily on early creeds, it still offers intriguing insights for understanding the perichoretic participation of the Trinity. In The Hope of Glory, rather than starting with traditional categories of eschatology, death, and heaven/hell, McFarland builds from what we can know. Indeed, his thesis is that we can only know our hope through our experience of the Risen Christ.
Reasoning that hope which can be calculated is not really hope (p. 19), McFarland yet makes it clear that hope must be consistent with what we experience while not be reduced to our present experience or even completely extrapolated from that experience (p. 14). Hence, while technology or even transhumanism (in a limited sense) may end to temporal quality of life, neither should be perceived as ultimate hope (p. 30). As a result, he argues that hope is, to some extent, eschatologically-motivated action as long as, in turn, it is not reduced to motivation alone (p. 58). The point of our calling to live out our lives in hope is not to extract ourselves from the world (p. 84) but in our interdependence with other humans (pp. 70-71), we are to demonstrate and affirm certainty with hope.
Of course, it is difficult to consider ultimate hope without considering the reality of evil. It seems like a cheap “cop-out” to ignore evil for “pie in the sky by and by,” as well as to shrug one’s shoulders and accept it. One of my favorite concepts was that though the resurrection and ascension of Jesus as the Christ is God’s final word, the existence of evil, corruption, and violence demonstrates that, at least in history, God isn’t finished speaking that final word (p. 115.). I also liked his reworking of Scholasticism’s four (4) last things (death, judgment, heaven, and hell) to advent, judgment, heaven, and hell (p. 116).
I very much agreed with his concept of heaven as a transcendent realm rather than a spatial realm which is literally above (p. 126). While that must be obvious to most believers, there are still far too many who still think in spatial terms. Rather, heaven is the “direction from which God acts, whether analogically ‘from above’ or ‘from ahead.’” (p. 128) I really like that concept of “from ahead.” I also agree with the idea of death as not only the end of our earthly story, but also as a mercy from the pain and confusion of the temporal life which, in turn, opens the possibility for the “new.” (p. 138 with agreement via Barth and Bonhoeffer, n. 8). In McFarland’s eschatology, he observes that Jesus always treated resurrection as future (p. 142) and the individuation of the personality (as hypostasis) or sheer personality being preserved in the mind of God (p. 146). I’m not entirely convinced, but how could one be with something that is still “hidden” from us. McFarland’s point is that we depend upon God since we don’t have the interdependence within a body until we receive the promised resurrection body in 1 Corinthians 15.
McFarland makes a very good point about not reducing the miraculous to the universal (lest it become commonplace and no longer miraculous) (pp. 161-162). He says that miracles are supportive of Christian hope, but they need to be secondary to our faith affirmation and not primary (pp. 162-163). In speaking of the Eucharist, McFarland’s perception seems most helpful: “Christ is present in, with, and under these material elements, such that they are—the body and blood of Christ given and shed for the life of the world—is determined not by what they have been but what they have been called to be: a concrete manifestation of divine presence, and thus a means of grace.” (p. 163)
One statement can express McFarland’s position as expressed in this book: it is a violation of Jesus’ teaching concerning the Kingdom of Heaven at hand to treat this life and its suffering and merely a prelude to the future while, at the same time, it violates Jesus’ teaching of our future vindication to deny the place of suffering (and earthly life) as part of the journey toward the promise of glory (p. 183). I very much appreciate the knife edge upon which McFarland practices theology. I am not 100% convinced by all of his arguments, but I am definitely enlightened by every line of reasoning.
Reasoning that hope which can be calculated is not really hope (p. 19), McFarland yet makes it clear that hope must be consistent with what we experience while not be reduced to our present experience or even completely extrapolated from that experience (p. 14). Hence, while technology or even transhumanism (in a limited sense) may end to temporal quality of life, neither should be perceived as ultimate hope (p. 30). As a result, he argues that hope is, to some extent, eschatologically-motivated action as long as, in turn, it is not reduced to motivation alone (p. 58). The point of our calling to live out our lives in hope is not to extract ourselves from the world (p. 84) but in our interdependence with other humans (pp. 70-71), we are to demonstrate and affirm certainty with hope.
Of course, it is difficult to consider ultimate hope without considering the reality of evil. It seems like a cheap “cop-out” to ignore evil for “pie in the sky by and by,” as well as to shrug one’s shoulders and accept it. One of my favorite concepts was that though the resurrection and ascension of Jesus as the Christ is God’s final word, the existence of evil, corruption, and violence demonstrates that, at least in history, God isn’t finished speaking that final word (p. 115.). I also liked his reworking of Scholasticism’s four (4) last things (death, judgment, heaven, and hell) to advent, judgment, heaven, and hell (p. 116).
I very much agreed with his concept of heaven as a transcendent realm rather than a spatial realm which is literally above (p. 126). While that must be obvious to most believers, there are still far too many who still think in spatial terms. Rather, heaven is the “direction from which God acts, whether analogically ‘from above’ or ‘from ahead.’” (p. 128) I really like that concept of “from ahead.” I also agree with the idea of death as not only the end of our earthly story, but also as a mercy from the pain and confusion of the temporal life which, in turn, opens the possibility for the “new.” (p. 138 with agreement via Barth and Bonhoeffer, n. 8). In McFarland’s eschatology, he observes that Jesus always treated resurrection as future (p. 142) and the individuation of the personality (as hypostasis) or sheer personality being preserved in the mind of God (p. 146). I’m not entirely convinced, but how could one be with something that is still “hidden” from us. McFarland’s point is that we depend upon God since we don’t have the interdependence within a body until we receive the promised resurrection body in 1 Corinthians 15.
McFarland makes a very good point about not reducing the miraculous to the universal (lest it become commonplace and no longer miraculous) (pp. 161-162). He says that miracles are supportive of Christian hope, but they need to be secondary to our faith affirmation and not primary (pp. 162-163). In speaking of the Eucharist, McFarland’s perception seems most helpful: “Christ is present in, with, and under these material elements, such that they are—the body and blood of Christ given and shed for the life of the world—is determined not by what they have been but what they have been called to be: a concrete manifestation of divine presence, and thus a means of grace.” (p. 163)
One statement can express McFarland’s position as expressed in this book: it is a violation of Jesus’ teaching concerning the Kingdom of Heaven at hand to treat this life and its suffering and merely a prelude to the future while, at the same time, it violates Jesus’ teaching of our future vindication to deny the place of suffering (and earthly life) as part of the journey toward the promise of glory (p. 183). I very much appreciate the knife edge upon which McFarland practices theology. I am not 100% convinced by all of his arguments, but I am definitely enlightened by every line of reasoning.
December 25, 2024
Know what you're getting with this. It's basically re-worked Barth/Jüngel. That means it's particularly focussed on explaining / defending eternal life as primarily this life vindicated / redeemed, both in terms of Jesus' resurrection and ongoing 'life' and our eschatological 'life' as well, and on repudiating any idea that the life of glory entails some kind of continuation (albeit glorified) of the nature and patterns of this life, with endless 'activity' and 'new experiences.' If, like me, you find a Barth/Jüngel 'solution' to this 'problem' reductionist and unconvincing, this will be a frustrating read. That said, I have no doubt that it will stand as one of the foremost attempts to provide an extended 'Barthian' approach to these issues. It's cogently argued, and there is much that I find rich and good and helpful... but I am no more persuaded by McFarland's overall approach than I am by Barth/Jüngel. Oddly, about 5 pages towards the end of the book acknowledge something like the more traditional approach that, as far as I'm concerned, offers a far richer solution to the issues that animate McFarland: the beatific vision. This is the paradoxically utterly 'restful' beholding of the glory of God, which is also endlessly dynamic more-and-moreness of eternal life in ecstatic loving union and communion with the Triune God, which is in turn perfection of union and communion with one another and the whole of the new creation, because all things are ever more fully seen, known, and loved as they are seen, known, and loved in God. The way McFarland speaks of this seems to provide a significant part of the 'answer' he is seeking, but the few pages in which he mentions this kind of thing sit very uneasily with the primary focus of the rest, which is theme & variations on how eternal life is nothing other than a (what comes across as mostly 'lifeless') glorified/redeemed recapitulation/vindication of earthly life. Ironically, this also means that for much of the book, there's a tendency towards the same unhelpful outcome as the alternative he opposes: what should be the primary focus of an account of the life of glory - the Triune God, and our relationship with him - basically disappears. For those who think of eternal life mostly in terms of what the redeemed are ‘doing’, God can come across as incidental, except as the source of all the exciting new experiences the redeemed are having. In the approach McFarland offers, other than when he very briefly points towards aspects of the beatific vision tradition, God is basically incidental to his presentation of the life of glory too, except as the one who by grace vindicates and redeems our earthly existence. Yes, some version of the vindication/ affirmation/redemption of this earthly life in God, and by the grace of God, is *an* aspect of the life of glory, but there is so much more to be said, scripturally and theologically, about eternal life and therefore the relationship between this life and the next, than McFarland is able to offer here because of the reductionist framework within which he mostly operates.
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