In seeking to develop and refine biblical ethics, are we supposed to look back, to how things were when God created the heavens and the earth, and pronounced all things good?  Or should we look forward, to our perfected life in the new heavens and new earth?

Sam Wells would like to see ‘backward-looking’ thinking replaced by ‘forward-looking thinking.’

There is no getting away from the fact that Jesus and the apostles do look back to creation to support and explain their ethical teachings.

Jesus, when teaching about marriage and divorce, took his hearers back to Genesis, saying, “Moses permitted you to divorce your wives because of your hard hearts, but from the beginning it was not this way” (Matthew 19:8).

Paul, when listing various kinds of sinner in 1 Cor 6:9-10, is very likely echoing the Holiness Code of Leviticus and some of the Ten Commandments; and these themselves recall how things were at the beginning.

But it is also true that the New Testament writers frequently appeal to the age to come as they teach what it means to live Christianly in the present age.

He applies this to the search for ‘inclusiveness’ in and by the church:

‘My counsel to those who are glad to bear the epithet ‘inclusive’ is not to shout their answer louder or longer than the opposition, or give examples of the pain and suffering the opposing answer has caused, or suggest that the arc of history bends towards their position, and thereby win the argument; it’s instead to ask a different question.’

That question, for Wells, is, ‘Where are we going?’  ‘What has God in store for us?’

This enables those who seek inclusivity to transfer emphasis ‘from the wrongs we’ve suffered to the glory that awaits us.’

One of the problems facing a creational approach is the level of disagreement over which aspects of human being and behaving belong to the original creation and which belong to falled creation.

Further:

‘It’s no use to protest that treatment of certain identities has been unjust, unfair, heartless, cruel and sometimes criminal and worse. This is true, but it has the truth of lament rather than of aspiration. It leads to authorities and those of diverging convictions making grudging acknowledgements, procedural claims and evasive promises. It seldom changes hearts and minds; on the contrary it often wearies and antagonises, as the phrase ‘Are you calling me a bigot?’ illustrates.’

The ministry of Jesus (writes Ian Paul) was essentially eschatological.  When he declared, “The kingdom of God is at hand”, his hearers would have understood that mean that the present order of things was coming to an end.

In his words to Pilate Jesus points to a kingdom which is ‘not from this world’ (Jn 18:36).

Jesus’ frequent self-identification as the Son of Man harks back to Daniel 7, where ‘the one like a son of man’ comes to the throne and receives an everlasting kingdom.’

‘In particular’, adds Ian Paul,

‘Jesus appeals to eschatology when answering a question about marriage and (Levirate) further marriage in Mark 12.25, Matt 22.30 and Luke 20.36. The reality of the eschaton relativises the importance of sex and marriage, and the coming of that future into the present in Jesus’ own ministry means that this new form of relationship, where ‘family’ now refers to spiritual kinship (‘the rest of his brothers’, Rev 12.17) as well as to literal kinship. It is this that allows both Jesus and Paul to be single!’

Even the law of the Old Testament should be seen as forward-looking.  It is something that is fulfilled in Christ.  It is appealed to by Paul as he teaches his ethics of the kingdom.  The Sabbath law is a picture of the eschatological rest that we find in Jesus here and hereafter, as Hebrews 3 and 4 elaborates.

Paul, when lamenting the lifestyles of certain people, has no hesitation in invoking the future glorious return of Jesus Christ:

Philippians 3:20f – our citizenship is in heaven—and we also await a savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform these humble bodies of ours into the likeness of his glorious body by means of that power by which he is able to subject all things to himself.

In the words of Sam Wells:

‘Paul literally shifts the centre of the universe, from this existence and our daily reality, to the realm of essence, the things that last forever, the habitation of God and of those whom God has called to share the life of eternity.’

We honour our bodies precisely because ‘by his power God raised the Lord from the dead, and he will raise us also’ (1 Cor 6:13f).  Even in the earlier part of that same chapter, where the apostle echoes Leviticus (and perhaps of OT scriptures), he at the same time urges his hearers/readers to remember that a day is coming which ‘the saints will judge the world.’

This brings us to the picture of the New Jerusalem in Revelation 21.  To be sure, the gates to the Holy City is remarkably ‘inclusive’:

‘On the one hand, these gates are unexpectedly ‘inclusive’; unlike human cities which are anxious about security and safety, and so close their gates at night, this city of God has no such anxiety, and welcomes all who will accept the free but costly invitation to drink from the river of life and feast at the wedding banquet of the Lamb. The ‘nations’ and the ‘kings of the earth’, whom we thought had been lost in their captivation to the power of the beast, make a surprising appearance in the city.’

But,

‘on the other hand, these gates are also unexpectedly ‘exclusive’: ‘nothing impure will ever enter the city’. Most artists omit to include the angels that are stationed at each gate—stationed to check the passports of those who enter, whether their names are written in the Lamb’s book of life. As the text then makes clear, to have your name written there involves having made the change from ‘what some of you were’ to the ‘But now you have been washed’ of Pauline theology—’for their good deeds go with them’ (Rev 14:13). And the list of vices that are excluded in Rev 21:8 and Rev 22:15 (excised by the lectionary) have an obvious relation to the vice lists in both Paul’s and Jesus’ teaching.’

Conclusion?  Sure, we will benefit from ethical thinking which points towards the consummation of all things in the new creation.  But not to the neglect of thinking which looks back to the beginning, and to God’s good purposes in creation.  And not to find some way of being more inclusive (or as inclusive, but in an unbiblical way) than the word of God itself.

(Based on this article by Ian Paul)