From Catacombs to Comfort: Why Your Life Shapes Your End Times View

After years studying church history, I wanted to focus on what the early church actually believed about the end times. What I discovered was a pattern so consistent it should give us pause: Christians hiding in catacombs held dramatically different eschatological views than Christians meeting in cathedrals. This historical reality should make us examine our own context with ruthless honesty. If our circumstances so profoundly shape our interpretation of Scripture's promises about the future, we need to ask hard questions about our own assumptions.

Why Eschatology Is Imminently Practical

Many Christians treat eschatology as an interesting but ultimately impractical field of study—something for prophecy enthusiasts but not essential for daily Christian living. This could not be more wrong. Your eschatological position fundamentally shapes how you view suffering, how you engage culture, where you place your hope, and what you're working toward.

Consider how different eschatological views lead to radically different approaches to Christian living:

If you believe we're already in Christ's millennial reign (amillennialism) or that we're building toward it (postmillennialism), you'll likely focus on transforming culture, perhaps through political engagement or social reform. After all, we're establishing—or already in—the Kingdom.

If you believe Christ will return to establish His kingdom after a period of increasing tribulation (premillennialism), you'll focus on evangelism and discipleship, knowing that only Christ's return will bring true transformation.

These aren't minor differences. They shape everything from how we respond to persecution to how we vote, from how we interpret current events to where we invest our resources. They shape whose responsibility we think it is to enact change in the world—whether the church preaching the gospel is more powerful and important than governments passing laws. Are we ambassadors of a coming kingdom, or architects trying to build one now?

The Shocking Claim of Comfortable Christianity

Here's what my research has convinced me is one of the most problematic aspects of amillennial and postmillennial theology: If Jesus taught that the church age would be marked by tribulation (Matthew 24), how can we simultaneously claim we're living in the millennial reign of Christ?

This is essentially calling evil good and good evil—taking what Jesus clearly described as a time of trouble, persecution, and tribulation, and claiming it's actually Christ's glorious thousand-year reign. This theological move is only possible from positions of comfort and power.

Think about it: Would Christians being fed to lions in Rome have believed they were living in the millennial reign? Would believers hiding from ISIS in Syria think the kingdom had already been established? The early church's unanimous premillennialism wasn't just one option among many—it was the only view that made sense of their lived experience of suffering while waiting for vindication.

When Constantine legalized Christianity and the church moved from catacombs to cathedrals, suddenly the idea of a present spiritual millennium became plausible. When you're not being hunted, it's easier to believe the kingdom has already come. When Christianity becomes culturally dominant—as in postmillennial thinking—you might even believe we're successfully Christianizing the world.

But this requires spiritualizing Jesus's clear warnings about the character of this age. It demands we explain away His question, "When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?" (Luke 18:8). It forces us to minimize the apostolic teaching that "all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted" (2 Timothy 3:12).

The Theological Lynchpin: "Spiritual Israel"

My research revealed something that should trouble every serious Bible student: The concept of the church as "spiritual Israel"—fundamental to both amillennial and postmillennial theology—appears nowhere in Scripture. This language was introduced by Justin Martyr around 160 AD, not by Paul or any apostolic writer.

Let's examine the passages commonly misused to support this idea with the deeper analysis from my research:

Romans 9:6 - "Not all who are descended from Israel are Israel."

The Greek literally reads: "Not all from Israel are this Israel" (ou gar pantes hoi ex Israēl, houtoi Israēl). The demonstrative "this" (houtoi) points back to the unbelieving Israel Paul just described in verses 1-5. Paul's point: not all ethnic Israel belongs to "this" unbelieving group—there remains a faithful remnant. He's distinguishing between believing and unbelieving Jews, not redefining Israel as the church.

Galatians 6:16 - "Peace and mercy to all who follow this rule—even to the Israel of God."

The blessing formula "peace and mercy" typically appears as a unified blessing in Jewish literature. The Greek kai is best understood as emphatic ("even") rather than separating two groups. Paul likely means: those who follow this rule, even the "Israel of God" among them—probably Jewish believers who understand circumcision doesn't save. Critically, even if "Israel of God" refers to Jewish believers specifically, Paul maintains the distinction. He doesn't call the entire church "Israel" but recognizes "Israel" as a distinct element within the unified body. This is worlds apart from claiming the church has become Israel.

Ephesians 2:11-22 - The "One New Man" passage

Paul explicitly says Gentiles were "alienated from the commonwealth of Israel" and have now been "brought near." They haven't become Israel but have been brought near to Israel's covenants. The "one new man" is something genuinely new (kainos - new in quality), not Israel under a different name. Notably, Paul avoids calling this new entity "Israel."

1 Peter 2:9-10 - "A chosen people, a royal priesthood"

Peter applies Exodus 19:6 language to the church but conspicuously does NOT use the term "Israel." If the church had become Israel, this would have been the perfect place to say so. Instead, Peter maintains the distinction even while applying similar covenant language.

Where I Stand (And Why Humility Matters)

After extensive study, I remain convinced of a premillennial return of Christ. The early church was right: Jesus will literally return to establish a thousand-year kingdom on earth centered in Jerusalem. This isn't escapist fantasy—it's taking God's promises seriously.

However, I differ significantly from many in the dispensational camp. When Jesus described the period between His departure and return in Matthew 24, He wasn't talking about a peaceful church age followed by seven years of tribulation. He was describing the entire period from His ascension to His return as characterized by tribulation.

Consider Jesus's words carefully: He tells His disciples they will face wars, famines, earthquakes, persecution, and hatred "because of my name" (Matthew 24:9). He says these are "birth pains" (v.8) that continue throughout the age. When He says "then there will be great tribulation" (v.21), the context suggests this began with Jerusalem's destruction and continues through the entire church age—a nearly 2,000-year period of cumulative suffering that far exceeds any seven-year period.

Jesus warns that "if those days had not been cut short, no human being would be saved" (v.22). This makes more sense describing 2,000 years of escalating human capacity for destruction—from swords to nuclear weapons—than a mere seven years. He's describing the trajectory of human history: without Christ's return, we would eventually destroy ourselves completely.

I hold this position firmly but humbly. Church history teaches us that sincere believers have held different views throughout the centuries, often shaped by their circumstances more than they realized. We must be students of Scripture first, letting God's Word shape our theology even when it challenges our comfort or contradicts our experience.

The Danger of Misplaced Hope

One of my deepest concerns about amillennial and especially postmillennial theology is how it redirects Christian hope toward earthly transformation rather than Christ's return. When you believe we're already in the millennium or building toward it, the focus shifts from proclamation to transformation, from evangelism to activism, from the gospel to politics.

This isn't theoretical. The recent rise of "Christian nationalism" flows naturally from postmillennial assumptions. If we're tasked with Christianizing society before Christ returns, then political power becomes a primary tool for kingdom work. But this fundamentally misunderstands our mission. We're called to make disciples, not transform governments. We're ambassadors of a coming kingdom, not architects of an earthly one.

The early church conquered Rome through martyrdom, not political maneuvering. They transformed the world through proclamation, not legislation. When we confuse our mission with Israel's kingdom promises, we end up pursuing power rather than practicing sacrifice.

A Call to Serious Study

If this historical investigation has taught me anything, it's that eschatology is too important to ignore and too complex to approach carelessly. We need to:

1. Study Scripture carefully, distinguishing between what the Bible actually says and what traditions have taught us to see
2. Learn from history, understanding how different contexts have shaped interpretation
3. Hold convictions humbly, recognizing that sincere believers have disagreed for two millennia
4. Live with urgency, whether Christ returns tomorrow or in a thousand years
5. Focus on our mission, proclaiming the gospel rather than trying to establish the kingdom through human effort

The early church expected Christ's imminent return while enduring tribulation. They longed for His kingdom while suffering in this one. They maintained hope while facing death. Perhaps those who worship in comfort have something to learn from those who worshiped in catacombs.

Jesus told us to be ready, for He comes at an hour we do not expect (Matthew 24:44). Whether we face martyrdom or mundane Monday mornings, we're called to faithful service until He returns. The gospel of the kingdom must be proclaimed to all nations—then the end will come (Matthew 24:14). That's our mission. Not building the kingdom through legislation, not escaping all difficulty, but faithful proclamation and endurance until He comes.