All Things Made New: Holding Hope and Tension in Apokatastasis

A Big Greek Word with Big Implications

Recently, I brought up this big, beautiful Greek word: apocatastasis. It's the conviction that somehow, in the end, all things will be reconciled to Christ. Just as Paul writes in Colossians 1:20, "Through Christ, God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things... by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross."

That’s a powerful image. And if we’re going to let this vision shape our faith—if we’re going to trust that reconciliation is the true destination of all things—then we also need to wrestle with the tensions we find in scripture. Because while there is hope, there are also words like hell and wrath that show up. And those aren’t words we can just ignore.

Embracing the Paradox

Apocatastasis—this belief in the restoration of all things—takes Colossians 1:20 at face value. It sees the end of the story as homecoming. Everything, absolutely everything, will find its way back in Christ. Because nothing that moves in a direction away from Christ can last.

But I also admitted last week: Paul isn’t always so rosy. Sometimes he sounds, well, less optimistic. And that’s where we have to live—right in that tension.

When Theology Meets Adolescence

Now, my son is 11, almost 12, which apparently means he’s basically an adult—just ask him. And one of the ways he’s embracing his new-found maturity is by pointing out every mistake anyone makes, in any room, at any time. Mispronounce a word? Use the wrong verb tense? He’s there. It's uncanny. And, to be fair, he got this gift from me.

One day, he corrected his 5-year-old sister, and I told him, "Hey man, you don’t need to explain everything." He shot back, "Actually, I think you mean mansplain." I didn’t know whether to laugh or worry.

But had he been listening to my sermon last week, he might’ve taken that same energy and brought it to Paul. Because just two chapters after the grand hope of Colossians 1, Paul says in chapter 3: "Put to death... whatever belongs to your earthly nature... Because of these, the wrath of God is coming."

And he’d be right to point that out.

The Tension is Real—and Historical

Here’s the thing: this isn’t a new problem. We’re not the first ones to notice this. For the first 500 years of Christianity—and still today in Orthodox traditions—these tensions weren’t avoided. They were held together.

All things will be reconciled. And that’s precisely why wrath comes. Because, as Paul says in Romans 1, God’s wrath is revealed against all that deforms, wounds, and distorts God’s creation.

In that light, wrath is not retribution. It’s the fire of love that refuses to let brokenness endure. Hell, then, becomes the name we give to the place where all that is not in Christ is consumed.

What Will Be Left of Us?

That’s sobering. It should make us pause. Because if every evil thing is burned away, what remains of us?

Yet, that question doesn’t steal our hope. In fact, it deepens it. Because hope rooted in Christ isn’t naïve. It’s cosmic. In Christ, all things were created. In Christ, all things hold together. And in Christ, all things will one day be reconciled.

Why Hope Still Matters

This matters, not just for theology, but for life. Because our biggest convictions about where the universe is headed? Those shape the person we become. That’s what fuels our daily choices.

To hope in the reconciliation of all things doesn’t mean ignoring the hard stuff in scripture. It means trusting that the same Christ who calls all things home will also burn away everything that cannot come with us.

That is apocatastasis. That is our hope. And it is not a denial of the difficult parts of scripture—it’s what gives those tensions their ultimate context: redemption.