Introduction
Every previous lesson in this course has dealt with the church as it exists in the present age—flawed, fragmented, struggling, suffering, and yet sustained by the grace of God and the power of the Spirit. This final lesson lifts the gaze from the church militant—the church as it wages war against sin, death, and the powers of darkness—to the church triumphant—the church as it will be when Christ returns, when every tear is wiped away, and when the bride is presented to the bridegroom in spotless glory.
Eschatology—the doctrine of last things—is not merely an appendix to theology. It is the horizon toward which the entire story of the church is moving. Without eschatology, ecclesiology becomes either triumphalist (imagining that the church will perfect the world through its own efforts) or defeatist (imagining that the church's struggles are meaningless). The biblical vision of the church's future holds both the realism of present suffering and the certainty of coming glory, and it shapes how the church lives, worships, and hopes in the meantime.
The Church Militant and the Church Triumphant
Christian theology has traditionally distinguished between two states of the church's existence. The church militant (ecclesia militans) is the church on earth, engaged in spiritual warfare against the world, the flesh, and the devil. The church triumphant (ecclesia triumphans) is the church in glory—the company of the redeemed who have finished their course and now rest in the presence of God. Some theologians add a third category: the church expectant (ecclesia expectans)—the saints who have died in the faith and await the resurrection of the body and the final consummation.
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith."
— Hebrews 12:1–2
The "cloud of witnesses" in Hebrews 12 is the company of the faithful described in Hebrews 11— Abel, Abraham, Moses, Rahab, and the unnamed martyrs who "were tortured, refusing to accept release, so that they might rise again to a better life" (Hebrews 11:35). These are the church triumphant in the intermediate state—they have finished their earthly course and their faith has been vindicated, but they, together with us, await the final resurrection and the renewal of all things. The church militant and the church triumphant are not two separate churches but one church in two states, bound together by the same Lord, the same Spirit, and the same hope.
The Apostles' Creed confesses belief in "the communion of saints"—a phrase that encompasses the fellowship of all believers, living and dead, in Christ. Protestants reject the Roman Catholic practices of praying to the saints and seeking their intercession, holding that there is one mediator between God and man (1 Timothy 2:5). But the Reformed tradition affirms the reality of the communion of saints as a theological truth: the believers who have gone before us are not lost to us but are alive in Christ, and we share with them a common faith, a common hope, and a common destiny. The church's worship on earth is, in some real sense, a participation in the worship of heaven.
The Perseverance of the Church
The Reformed tradition confesses not only the perseverance of individual saints but the perseverance of the church corporately. Jesus' promise that "the gates of hell shall not prevail" against the church (Matthew 16:18) is not merely a prediction but a covenant guarantee. The church may suffer, may shrink, may be driven underground, may lose its cultural influence, may be purged of nominal members—but it will not be destroyed. The gates of hell are defensive, not offensive: they cannot withstand the church's advance into enemy territory.
Church history confirms this promise in striking ways. Christianity survived the Roman persecutions, the barbarian invasions, the medieval corruptions, the Enlightenment critiques, the Communist attempts to eradicate it, and the secularist predictions of its imminent demise. In every generation, voices have proclaimed the death of Christianity, and in every generation, the church has emerged—often transformed, often purified, often in unexpected places—but very much alive. The church in China grew from roughly one million in 1949, when Mao Zedong came to power and expelled all foreign missionaries, to an estimated 60–100 million today. The church in sub-Saharan Africa has grown from approximately 9 million in 1900 to over 600 million today. The church in Iran, despite severe persecution, is among the fastest-growing in the world.
"I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it."
— Matthew 16:18
This does not mean that every local church or every denomination will endure. Individual congregations close, denominations decline, and entire regions that were once the heartland of Christianity—North Africa, Asia Minor, parts of Western Europe—have become post-Christian. The promise of perseverance applies to the church universal, not to any particular institutional expression of it. Christ has promised to build his church—and he is doing so, often in places and ways that the Western church does not expect or even notice.
Eschatological Visions of the Church
Christians have held different views of what the end times look like and how the church's story concludes. While a full treatment of eschatology lies beyond the scope of an ecclesiology course, the major eschatological frameworks have significant implications for how one understands the church's present mission and future hope.
Premillennialism
Premillennialism teaches that Christ will return before a literal thousand-year reign on earth. In its dispensational form, this view tends to emphasize the distinction between Israel and the church and to anticipate a period of tribulation before Christ's return. In its historic form, it holds that the church will endure tribulation and that Christ will return to establish his kingdom on earth. Premillennialism has historically fostered urgency in evangelism (since the Lord's return is imminent) but has sometimes produced a pessimism about cultural engagement (since the world is expected to worsen before Christ returns).
Postmillennialism
Postmillennialism teaches that Christ will return after the gospel has progressively transformed the world, producing a golden age of Christian influence before the second coming. This view, associated with Jonathan Edwards, Charles Hodge, and B.B. Warfield, tends to be optimistic about the church's capacity to influence culture and history. It was widely held in the nineteenth century but declined after the devastation of the World Wars. It has experienced something of a revival in some Reformed circles.
Amillennialism
Amillennialism teaches that the "thousand years" of Revelation 20 is symbolic of the entire church age, during which Christ reigns spiritually through the church and Satan's power is restrained. Christ will return at the end of this age to judge the living and the dead and to inaugurate the eternal state. This is the majority view in the Reformed tradition, associated with Augustine, Calvin, Kline, Ridderbos, and Vos. It fosters a posture of realistic engagement—the church lives between the "already" and the "not yet," experiencing both the blessings of Christ's present reign and the ongoing reality of suffering and opposition.
Your eschatology shapes your ecclesiology. If you believe the world is destined to get progressively worse (certain forms of premillennialism), you may prioritize evangelism over cultural engagement. If you believe the gospel will transform society (postmillennialism), you may invest heavily in cultural institutions. If you believe the church lives in the tension between triumph and suffering (amillennialism), you may pursue both evangelism and cultural engagement while maintaining a healthy realism about the limits of what the church can achieve before Christ returns. None of these positions is without biblical warrant, and each has produced faithful Christians—but the differences are real, and students of ecclesiology should be aware of how their eschatological commitments shape their understanding of the church's mission.
The Marriage Supper of the Lamb
The most glorious image of the church's future in Scripture is the marriage supper of the Lamb—the consummation of the relationship between Christ and his church in eternal, unbroken fellowship.
"Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure—for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints."
— Revelation 19:7–8
The bridal imagery runs throughout Scripture like a golden thread. God betroths himself to Israel in the Old Testament (Hosea 2:19–20; Isaiah 54:5). Christ is the bridegroom in the Gospels (Matthew 9:15; 25:1–13). Paul describes the church as a bride being presented to Christ (2 Corinthians 11:2; Ephesians 5:25–27). And in Revelation, the story reaches its climax as the bride is finally united with her bridegroom in the new creation.
Two features of this image deserve special attention. First, the bride "has made herself ready"—her fine linen is "the righteous deeds of the saints." This does not teach justification by works; the text says her clothing "was granted her," indicating that even her readiness is a gift of grace. But it does mean that the church's obedience in the present age—her worship, her witness, her love, her suffering—is not wasted. It is woven into the garment she will wear at the wedding feast. Everything the church does in faithfulness to Christ matters eternally.
Second, the marriage supper is a feast—a celebration of joy, abundance, and communion. The eschatological vision of Scripture is not a disembodied spiritual existence but a renewed creation in which resurrected people eat, drink, worship, and rejoice in the presence of God and one another. The Lord's Supper, celebrated week after week in the church militant, is an anticipation of this feast—a foretaste of the joy that awaits the church triumphant.
The New Jerusalem
The final vision of the church in Scripture is the New Jerusalem— the holy city descending from heaven as a bride adorned for her husband (Revelation 21:2). This image brings together all the threads of biblical ecclesiology: the church as temple, as city, as bride, as the dwelling place of God with humanity.
"And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.'"
— Revelation 21:3–4
The New Jerusalem has no temple, "for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb" (Revelation 21:22). The entire city is the temple—the presence of God fills every corner of the new creation. The church's longing for God's presence, expressed through centuries of worship, pilgrimage, and prayer, finds its ultimate fulfillment in a reality where the sacred and the secular are no longer distinguished because everything is sacred. The church has no more need for a building, an order of worship, or a priestly mediator, because the reality to which all these things pointed has arrived.
The gates of the New Jerusalem are never shut (Revelation 21:25)—a detail that suggests openness, welcome, and the security of a city that has no enemies. The nations walk by its light, and the kings of the earth bring their glory into it (Revelation 21:24). This is not the destruction of culture but its redemption—the best of human civilization, purified of sin and consecrated to God, finding its place in the new creation. The cultural mandate of Genesis 1 is not abandoned in Revelation 21; it is fulfilled.
The Bible begins in a garden (Genesis 2) and ends in a city (Revelation 21–22). This trajectory is theologically significant. The garden represents God's original creation in its simplicity and innocence. The city represents creation cultivated, developed, and glorified—a community of redeemed people living in a built environment that reflects the creativity, labor, and artistry of beings made in the image of God. The story of Scripture is not a return to Eden but an advance to something even greater—a city whose architect and builder is God (Hebrews 11:10), and whose citizens are the church triumphant in resurrection glory.
Living in Light of the End
The eschatological hope of the church is not an escape from the present but a lens through which the present is understood and lived. The church that knows where it is heading can endure the suffering of the present with patience, engage the culture of the present with hope, and worship in the present with a joy that anticipates the joy to come.
Every act of faithfulness in the church militant—every sermon preached, every sacrament administered, every act of mercy performed, every sin resisted, every tear shed in prayer, every believer buried in the hope of resurrection—is a participation in the story that ends with the marriage supper of the Lamb and the descent of the New Jerusalem. Nothing is wasted. Nothing is forgotten. The church's labor is not in vain in the Lord (1 Corinthians 15:58).
"He who testifies to these things says, 'Surely I am coming soon.' Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!"
— Revelation 22:20
This is the church's final word—not a theological argument, not an institutional strategy, not a cultural program, but a prayer. Come, Lord Jesus. The church that prays this prayer has understood its own nature. It is not an end in itself. It exists for Christ, it belongs to Christ, and it longs for Christ. And when he comes, the church militant will become the church triumphant, and the prayer of a thousand generations will be answered: "Behold, I am making all things new" (Revelation 21:5).