Anachronos. A slum in Sheol. Historians don't go there. It's anytime.
Socrates is reading his Kindle. Sartre is staring at Socrates. Pannenberg is walking towards them.
Sartre: Hello, Socrates. I didn't think I'd ever catch you reading a book!
Socrates: It's a poor substitute for asking people what they think.
Sartre: So, if you don't enjoy it, why are you doing it?
Socrates: I'm preparing for a meeting with Wolfhart Pannenberg.
Sartre: I didn't know he had died.
Socrates: He hasn't. He's very much alive. But he's on the orientation week I'm running for Christian theologians. And so, I'm reading what some Australians think about theodicy and eschatology (1). I believe these are topics that interest him.
Sartre: I believe so. I've been told that eschatology is his thing. But why the orientation week? What are you trying to achieve?
Socrates: I'm simply trying to correct some misconceptions that theologians have. For example, Pannenberg believes that dying is like falling asleep. And so, quite correctly, he believes that being raised from the dead is like being woken from sleep: "what happens to the dead corresponds to the way in which a man (sic!) is woken from sleep and gets up" (2).
Sartre: I get it! You want him to see that he's got the wrong metaphor! Dying is more like going somewhere. And so, being raised from the dead is more like continuing one's journey than being woken from sleep (Hebrews 13.20-21).
Socrates: That's it. By coming down here, he'll see that we are awake rather than asleep! Also, he'll see that, if he hangs around with us, he'll still be able to do theology. He'll still be able to speculate about eschatology.
Sartre: I like that! He'll be able to join our conversation about whether Sheol is as good as it gets, or whether there's a life after this one!
Socrates: Exactly! Here he comes. He knows what I'm likely to say, so, when I give the signal, why don't you begin the conversation?
Socrates, Sartre and Pannenberg introduce themselves. After a bit of small-talk, Socrates suggests that they get to know each other by talking about theodicy and eschatology. When they agree, he kicks off with some of the ideas he got from the book he was reading.
Socrates: Every Christian theodicy is about how a god who is both almighty and just handles the consequences of sin. And every eschatology is about how that god creates a new universe in which sin no longer occurs. In other words, if we didn't sin, Christian theologians wouldn't write books about theodicy or about eschatology or about how they are related. And so, I'd like to ask the two of you why it's possible for us to sin. What do you think, Jean-Paul? Simone tells me you have a fair bit of experience in this area!
Sartre: I think it's my ability to imagine how things could be different from what they are that makes it possible for me to sin. For example, when the Law tells me that I shouldn't desire another man's wife, I can read what I've been told as a prohibition or as a possibility (Exodus 20.1-17); as something I can imagine myself doing or not doing. In fact, if I hadn't heard the prohibition, I may never have contemplated the possibility!
Pannenberg: Paul would agree. Before the Law, there was the Garden. By prohibiting the eating of the fruit of the tree in the middle of the garden, God stimulated Eve's imagination. And so, because it was prohibited, she could imagine "how good its fruit would be to eat" and "how wonderful it would be to be wise" (Genesis 3.1-7). And so, as Paul tells us, "sin came into the world" (Romans 5.12). It came in because of Eve's ability to imagine that things could be different from what God wanted them to be.
Socrates: I always enjoy it when theists and atheists agree! But, tell me, Wolfhart, haven't we created a dilemma?
Pannenberg: What do you mean, Socrates? On the contrary, I think Jean-Paul and I have answered your question. We've told you why it's possible for us to sin. It's possible because we can imagine the opposite of what God would like us to do.
Socrates: Yes, you've answered that question, which belongs to the conversation about theodicy. But you seem to have forgotten that you believe in an eschaton, in a terminus and a telos of history. Amongst other things, that's when each of us will be "purified from everything that is incompatible with God's eternal life" (3).
Pannenberg: Yes, I do believe that will happen. But what's the problem? Surely, that's something God can do?
Socrates: Because I'm not sure what I can do, I never question what believers say God can do! So, this is my worry. When I'm being "purified", will God destroy my ability to imagine, or won't he? If he doesn't, I'll still be able to sin, because I'll still be able to imagine things he wouldn't like me to imagine. On the other hand, if he does destroy my ability to imagine, will I still be a person?
Sartre: I can't imagine someone who can't imagine. So, in the end, God has to make the same choice he made at the beginning. He has to choose whether or not we should be able to imagine things he wouldn't like us to imagine. More bluntly, the end game is like the opening game. God has to choose whether or not we should be able to sin!
Pannenberg: I'm looking forward to being down here! Who - except perhaps for Luther! - would have thought that theology is alive and well and flourishing in Sheol. This is much more fun than being with Moltmann or Jenson!
References
1. Theodicy and Eschatology, edited by Bruce Barber and David Neville, ATF Press, 2005.
2. The Apostles' Creed in Light of Today's Questions, by Wolfhart Pannenberg, Westminster Press, 1972, page 98.
3. "The task of Christian eschatology" by Wolfhart Pannenberg in The Last Things: Biblical and theological perspectives on eschatology, edited by Carl Braaten and Robert Jenson, Eerdmans, 2002, page 9.
