What The “new” In “new Earth” Means
What the “New” in “New Earth” Means
I saw a new heaven and a new earth. . . . I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God.
— Revelation 21:1-2
New creation is the dominating notion of biblical theology because new creation is the goal or purpose of God’s redemptive-historical plan; new creation is the logical main point of Scripture.a
— GREG BEALE
When Scripture speaks of a “new song,” do we imagine something that is wordless, silent, or without rhythm? Of course not. Why? Because it wouldn’t be a song.
If I promised you a new car, would you say, “If it’s new, it probably won’t have an engine, a transmission, doors, wheels, windows, or upholstery”? No, you’d never make such assumptions. Why? Because if a new car didn’t have these things, it wouldn’t be a car.
Likewise, when Scripture speaks of a new Earth, we can expect that it will be a far better version of the old Earth, but it will truly be Earth. By calling it the New Earth, God emphatically tells us it will be earthly and, thus, familiar. Otherwise, why call it Earth? Why not call it a new kingdom or empire or territory or dwelling place?
The word new is an adjective. Adjectives modify nouns, but they don’t negate them. The noun is always the main thing. Thus, a new car is first and foremost a car; a new body is first a body; and a new Earth is first an Earth.
The Bible begins with this powerful statement: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1:1). “The heavens and the earth” is a biblical designation for the entire universe. So when Isaiah 65 and 66, 2 Peter 3, and Revelation 21 all speak of “new heaven(s) and a new earth,” they indicate a transformation of the entire universe.
In Revelation 21:1, the Greek word kainos, translated “new” in the term New Earth, means new “in the sense that what is old has become obsolete, and should be replaced by what is new. In such a case the new is, as a rule, superior in kind to the old.”b
Paul uses the same word, kainos, when he speaks of a believer in Christ becoming “a new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17). The believer is still the same person as before, but he or she has been made new. Likewise, the New Earth will be the same as the old Earth, but made new.
In our resurrection, God may gather the scattered DNA and atoms and molecules of our dead and decayed bodies. In the earth’s resurrection, he will regather all he needs of the scorched and disfigured Earth. As our old bodies will be raised to new bodies, so the old Earth will be raised to become the New Earth.
So, will the earth be destroyed or renewed ? The answer is both — but the destruction will be temporal and partial, whereas the renewal will be eternal and complete. Those who emphasize our citizenship in Heaven—and I’m one of them—sometimes have an unfortunate habit of minimizing our connection to the earth and our destiny to live on it and rule it. We end up thinking of eternity as a non-earthly spiritual state in which Earth is at best a distant memory.
Understanding and anticipating the physical nature of the New Earth corrects a multitude of errors. It frees us to love, without guilt, the world that God has made, while saying no to that world corrupted by our sin. It reminds us that God himself gave us the earth, gave us a love for the earth, and will give us the New Earth.
Think what this will mean for Adam and Eve. When the New Earth comes down from Heaven, the rest of us will be going home, but Adam and Eve will be coming home. Only they will have lived on three Earths—one unfallen, one fallen, and one redeemed. Only they will have experienced, at least to a degree, the treasure of an original, magnificent Earth that was lost and is now regained.
When we open our eyes for the first time on the New Earth, will it be unfamiliar, or will we recognize it as home?
As human beings, we long for home, even as we step out to explore new frontiers. We long for the familiarity of the old, even as we crave the innovation of the new. Think of all the things we enjoy that are new: moving into a new house, the smell of a new car, the feel of a new book, watching a new movie, hearing a new song, the pleasure of a new friend, the enjoyment of a new pet, receiving new presents on our birthday, staying in a new hotel room, arriving at a new school or a new workplace, welcoming a new child or grandchild, eating new foods that suit our tastes.
We love newness—yet in each case, what is new is attached to something familiar. We don’t really like things that are utterly foreign to us. Instead, we appreciate fresh and innovative variations on things that we already know and love.
When we hear that in Heaven we will have new bodies and live on a New Earth, that’s how we should understand the word new —a restored and perfected version of our familiar bodies and our familiar Earth.
If someone asked you what the term New Earth means, how would you answer?
Lord, it’s overwhelming to think that just as you will make us new in the final Resurrection, you will also make the earth new. We love the earth. We wish it weren’t so messed up; we would love to live on an Earth without sin and death and suffering. We would love to enjoy nature without natural disasters or animal attacks, poison ivy or forest fires, or injuries from falling. Thank you that you didn’t make a mistake when you created the earth and created us. Thank you that you will make a new us and a New Earth that will bring you glory and joy—a joy that you desire for us to share with you forever.
a Greg K. Beale, “The Eschatological Conception of New Testament Theology,” Eschatology in Bible and Theology, ed. Kent E. Brower and Mark W. Elliott (Downer’s Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity, 1997), 21–22.
b Walter Bauer, The Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature, ed. Frederick W. Danker, 3rd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press).
