Not long ago I came across a curious quote supposedly from Martin Luther. “If I knew that tomorrow was the end of the world, I would plant an apple tree today.” The saying is most likely apocryphal, but whether or not Luther said it is not my concern. (Strangely, the line was used on more than one occasion by Martin Luther King Jr. as well and it sometimes falsely attributed as original. But that is neither here nor there.)

The reason the quote has stayed with me is because I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting on what people think about the end of the world and the climax of history (otherwise known as eschatology by the theologically inclined). With all the hubbub about earthquakes and tsunamis and economic collapse and Mayan calendars, it seems to be on others’ minds as well.

But more specifically, I’m curious to know how our understanding of the end shapes how we understand our work today. Put another way, if I knew that tomorrow was the end of the world, as Luther’s quote says, what would I do? Would I plant an apple tree, or would it be an act of folly?

So, let’s just imagine that I am an apple farmer; a modern day Johnny Appleseed with a pot covering my bald head. And through some angelic revelation or Spirit-given vision I was informed that tomorrow was indeed the end of the world. Awakened from the vision, I put on my overalls, grab my seed, and trot outside to plant an apple tree. How would such an act be interpreted?

In this first part let’s explore my apple tree planting through the lens of popular American evangelicalism–the sort that has dominated for the last century or more. It has adhered to a vision of the end spawned by dispensational theology and popularized in recent decades by the Left Behind series of books and movies. This view says that in the end the world will deteriorate under the corruption of evil, those faithful to God will be “raptured” out of the turmoil, and eventually the earth will burn up under the wrath and judgment of God. Those rescued from the destruction will go on to inhabit a new earth.

Under such a vision it would be seen as utter foolishness to spend the remaining moments planting an apple tree. First, the tree would never have time to germinate and bear fruit. It, like the rest of the earth, is destined for destruction. And second, the time spent sowing appleseeds should have been spent sowing the seeds of repentance and proclamation. If the earth has only hours left before impending doom, I should have warned as many as possible to flee the coming destruction.

In this vision of the end, it is only the salvation of souls that matters. Nothing else will survive–not apple trees, or books, or art, or music, or even physical bodies.

But that raises a bigger question. If planting an apple tree will not matter on the last day, why does it matter today? Under this scenario it doesn’t. Given the popular evangelical understanding of the end, all that matters is the rescue of souls from a sinking ship (which is analogy I’ve heard too many times to count).

This may explain why so many Christian communities celebrate those in explicitly mission-related professions (ministers, pastors, missionaries), and relegate those with other vocations to a supporting role status. We’re really glad that you plant appleseeds for a living, but do you mind working in the nursery or giving more to our missions fund? Those are things that really matter to God.

The problem with this viewpoint is that it diminishes the whole theology of vocation and calling that was so central to the Reformation (Martin Luther’s own era), and much of what Scripture teaches as well. God may well have called me to plant appleseeds, but if all that will endure in the end are the souls “raptured” from a doomed planet, then who cares about apple trees? If I really want a life of meaning and significance I should have spent it doing mission-related work!

Unfortunately this understanding of eschatology is what’s fueled a lot of missionary and ministry zeal. As a result some have entered ministry not out of a genuine sense of calling rooted in their communion with God and affirmed by his Church, but rather because they were looking for a life of significance. And under this scenario the greatest significance is reserved for those working on saving souls alone. A second class of significance, slightly lower than the first, is reserved for those contributing the funds that pay for those doing the work. And a third tier is given to those who pray, help in their free time, or in other ways contribute to the effort. Everyone else, sometimes called “fat Christians,” are just parasitically sucking resources from the mission.

But a top tier level of significance cannot be given to an artist, a doctor, a teacher, a parent, or an apple tree farmer. It’s just not possible given this interpretation of the end of the world. Souls, people! It’s only about rescuing souls!

If this interpretation of the end is right, then most of what most of us are doing with our lives (working, eating, creating, relating, and cultivating) is utterly useless because it will all be burned up in the end. That’s not a very satisfying idea in my mind, and it doesn’t sound much like the New Testament either.

In part 2 we’ll explore another interpretation of the end and what it means for Luther’s apple tree.

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