Showing posts with label Dispensationalism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dispensationalism. Show all posts
Friday, July 19, 2019
Monday, May 13, 2019
Jewish law and Jewish people in the NT
From the perspective of a messianic Jew and progressive dispensationalist:
full transcript:
Monday, September 10, 2018
144,000
I believe dispensationists think the 144,000 in Rev 7:4 refers to ethnic Jewish converts. Bracketing the usual exegetical debates, that raises some philosophical and theodical issues. Some dispensationalists are Calvinists while others are freewill theists. Let's consider each in relation to that identification:
1. Reformed dispensationalism
This means God regenerated 144,000 ethnic Jews during the great tribulation. Freewill theists often allege that unconditional election is arbitrary. I've argued that their allegation is confused. The fact that God doesn't elect people based on foreseen faith or merit doesn't mean God is randomly choosing who will be saved or damned, like throwing dice to pick winners and losers.
Humans are agents. The elect make different choices in life than the reprobate. Depending on who's elect or reprobate, that generates alternate world histories.
In addition, it may well be the case that God made a multiverse in which alternate histories play out. It's not as if God is forced to choose one outcome to the exclusion of others.
If, however, the Reformed dispensational interpretation of Rev 7:4 is correct, then who's saved and who's damned is based on numerology. Some ethnic Jews didn't make the cut because that would mess up the nice round number. God didn't save 144,303 Jews because that's not a pretty number compared to 144,000. Picking winners and losers to make a nice round number. Isn't numerical aesthetics an awfully frivolous criterion for salvation and damnation?
2. Libertarian dispensationalism
On this view it's unclear how there can be exactly 144,000 ethnic Jewish converts. God can't zap 144,000 Jews to believe in Jesus, for faith is an independent variable. Human agents are the ultimate source of their choices and actions. So it's out of God's hands how many Jews will be saved during the Tribulation.
But in that event, what are the odds that the number of converts just happen to add up to that nice round number? Consider all the different numerical possibilities. It's a vanishingly improbable coincidence that the raffle of freewill theism will pull that particular figure out of the hat.
Friday, May 11, 2018
Christianity unhitched
I watched the whole sermon by Andy Stanley:
He means well, but well-meaning people can do kinds of damage that wicked people can't.
Andy Stanley was raised and trained in Dispensationalism. Internecine fights over Dispensationalism (classical, progressive) are his default frame of reference. It's a very provincial outlook. Compare that to writers like Gordon Wenham and Christopher Wright on OT ethics and piety.
One problem is equivocation, where he oscillates between the OT and the law of Moses, as if they're interchangeable. But there's a difference between the Mosaic law, OT history, the Psalter, Prophets, and Wisdom literature. The Mosaic law isn't the whole package.
Christians disagree on how the old covenant is fulfilled in the new covenant. Their disagreement is the basis for some divergent theological traditions or denominations. Lutherans and Anabaptists see more discontinuity, Confessional Presbyterians see more continuity. You have variations within the same tradition. The LBCF sees more continuity while Don Carson and Stephen Wellum see more discontinuity, yet that's an intramural Baptist debate.
So that's a perennial debate. But that's a separate issue from the OT in general. There's a difference between unhitching the Christian faith from the Mosaic law and unhitching the Christian faith from "the Jewish scriptures". Stanley does a bait-n-switch. Even if we grant his Dispensational view of the Mosaic law, that doesn't mean we can unhitch the new covenant from the OT generally.
He makes the ridiculous claim that Pauline sexual immorality is independent of the OT, even though Rom 1 is based on Gen 1-2 while 1 Cor 6:9/1 Tim 1:10 reaffirm Lev 18:20.
Andy says Christianity is about an event (the Resurrection), but that's grossly simplistic. The NT interprets the person and work of Christ through the lens of the OT.
And it's not the Resurrection alone that vindicates Jesus. He must also be the fulfillment of OT messianism.
And even at the level of events, the Resurrection is not the only crucial event in the mission of Christ. What about the Incarnation, miracles of Jesus, and the return of Christ?
Andy appeals to the image of God, but of course that's an OT category!
Andy says that in the OT, God was playing by the rules of the kingdoms of this world. Really? The OT is aggressively countercultural in relation to ancient Near Eastern social mores.
The application is about people who've lost faith because they can't embrace OT historicity, OT miracles, the Genesis creation account, or value system/worldview depicted in the OT.
But the NT can't be true unless the OT is true. Jesus, the apostles, NT evangelists, and/or NT authors constantly appeal to OT validation. If the OT is mistaken, they were mistaken in their assessment of the OT.
I think Andy is personally spooked by historical, scientific, and moral objections to the OT, so he wants to unhitch that from his own faith. But they're logically and theologically inseparable. Take it or leave it.
Yes, some folks will lose their faith while others will be turned off. That's tragic, but truth is divisive. Individual apostasy is a necessary winnowing effect to preserve the church from institutional apostasy.
Thursday, December 07, 2017
This land is mine
i) The late great Jewish tenor Richard Tucker make a stirring recording of "The Exodus Song":
Depending on your viewpoint, that's political propaganda. Since I'm not Jewish, and I wasn't raised in the Middle East, I can't identify with the song at a personal level. I don't have that emotional attachment to the geography.
Although Trump's decision to relocate the American embassy to Jerusalem is mainly of geopolitical significance, it reignites familiar hermeneutical debates about the future status of Israel in Bible prophecy. Gary Burge wrote a predictable complaint about Trump's decision in The Atlantic.
ii) This is a perennial issue in theology. It raises deep and difficult questions about the hermeneutics of prophecy, continuities and discontinuities between the old covenant and new covenants, God's fidelity to his promises, &c.
I'm not a Zionist, but I'm not opposed to Zionism. I'm noncommittal. That's because I think long-range prophecies are often rather obscure ahead of time. We only see how the pieces fall into place in retrospect. I consider Zionism to be a viable option. Time will tell.
iii) It's been a while since I've read standard expositions of Dispensationalism. And I'm not sure what the current state of Dispensationalism is. For instance, it's odd that Dallas Theological Seminary hasn't published any next-generation commentaries on Daniel, Ezekiel, and Revelation. In fairness, Buist Fanning is slated to publish a commentary on Revelation, while Eugene Merrill did publish a fine commentary on Zechariah several years ago.
As I recall, one of the lynchpins of classical Dispensationalism goes like this: the OT is chockfull of prophecies about Israel. These are about Israel in the sense that they are worded in terms of Palestinian sites and a Jewish people-group. And the prophecies are often tied to Yahweh's past dealings with that people and place.
By contrast, OT prophecies have far less to say about the future of the gentiles. There are some striking oracles and promises, but few compared to what-all is said about Israel.
That raises something of a conundrum: where is the church in OT prophecy? How could the OT be silent on something as important and definitive as the church? That's a "mystery".
In classical Dispensationalism, when the OT talks about Israel, that's what it means. Israel (i.e. that place and people-group) is the intended referent. The language is what it appears to be.
And there's certainly nothing outlandish about that assumption. However, it may not be quite that simple.
iv) Israel was always a mixed multitude. Abraham's household included circumcised foreigners. And the Exodus generation included many individuals who weren't direct descendants of Jacob (Exod 12:38). So the core identity was never purely or merely ethnic.
v) An obvious reason the OT has so much to say about Israel and comparatively little about gentiles is because it is generally written to Jews. It talks about them because so much of what it says is addressed to and for that particular audience. It says less about outsiders, in part because that's not the regular audience. The only gentiles who'd even be privy to OT prophecy were gentiles in the geographical ambit of ancient Israel. So the sample audience selects for the sample content.
vi) In addition, OT prophecy may focus on the Mideast because that was the known-world to the original audience. You're not going to have prophecies about places and people-groups in far-flung regions of the globe because that would be unintelligible to the original audience.
But that raises the question of whether the geographical locus is to some degree a stand-in for future developments, which might be far more expansive.
vii) Apropos (iii), on one view, OT prophecies ostensibly about Israel are exclusively to Israel. They are only about Israel.
At the opposite extreme is the view that Israel is a placeholder for the church. On that view, prophecies ostensively about Israel are exclusively about the church. They are only about the church–in contrast to Israel.
One problem with that identification is the Exodus, where God delivers a people-group in covenant fidelity to promises he made to Abraham and the patriarchs. That's based on generational continuity. So you can't just swap that out and swap in a different people-group.
viii) Another interpretation is to view Israel as inclusive of Israel, but not exclusive to Israel. It might be inclusive of believing gentiles. Gentiles who share the messianic faith of Abraham, David, and the prophets.
And that's a throwback to the multi-ethnic composition of Abraham's household, as well as the multi-ethnic composition of Exodus-generation (iv)–who had a shared faith and history with the patriarchs.
ix) Apropos (viii), Israel, in OT prophecy, may refer, not to Jews in general, but to believing Jews. Messianic Jews. A Jewish remnant throughout the course of sacred history.
Their lives may be intertwined with other Jews, just as Christian congregations generally consist of families, not all of whom are believers.
x) I once had a conversation with Meredith Kline. Even though he had a Jewish background, he was an ardent opponent of Zionism. His objection to me on that day is that God couldn't give the Jews that land in perpetuity because geological cycles change the complexion of the land over time. Eventually, the landmarks are gone.
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Wild-eyed doctrines
I'm going to use two statements by Fred Butler as a launchpad to discuss several related issues:
I think the difference would be that dispensationalism alone doesn’t lead people to wild-eyed doctrines.
But, the defining, unifying factor is that both groups are continuationists. Meaning, they both adhere to the same view regarding the actions of the Holy Spirit in this day and age.
https://hipandthigh.wordpress.com/2016/04/19/continuationism-is-not-a-non-essential/
i) It's arguable that dispensationalism leads to date setting. Dispensationalism believes there are signs of the endgames. It believes that developments in the Mideast will be central to the fulfillment of endtime prophecies. That leads dispensationalists to correlate modern events in the Mideast with Bible prophecies about the Second Coming. And that, in turn, leads to failed, "It's the end of the world!" predictions.
Now, I don't think that's a reason to discount dispensationalism. But that's endemic to dispensationalism.
ii) Take another example: Catholics say sola Scriptura is a "blueprint for anarchy". When Catholics looks a Protestantism, they see what cessationists see when they look at the charismatic movement. It as much or more a question of what you're looking for as what you're looking at.
iii) Fred does, however, draw a valid distinction. But if anything, his distinction needs to be even more discriminating.
In the nature of the case, there are errors and abuses distinctive to continuationism. By definition, cessationism won't be prey to the same errors and abuses.
There is, however, a difference between what is distinctive to a position and what is essential to a position. For instance, there are forms of sexual misconduct distinctive to heterosexuality, viz. heterosexual fornication, adultery, rape, and incest. However, no orthodox Christian would contend that that's essential to heterosexuality.
Or to take a comparison that's closer to the issue at hand, there are errors and abuses distinctive to messianism. A messianic religion opens the door to messianic pretenders. A religion that denies messianism avoids that particular error or abuse. But, of course, Christianity is unavoidably messianic. The attendant errors and abuses go with the terrain.
Likewise, there are errors and abuses distinctive to a religions founded on prophecy and miracles. That opens the door to charlatans. A religion that denies prophecy and miracles avoids that particular error or abuse. But, again, Christianity is unavoidably committed to prophecy and miracles. The attendant errors and abuses go with the terrain.
iv) Both cessationists and continuationists must distinguish between true and false prophets, true and false miracles or miracle-workers. That's hardly a challenge unique to continuationism.
The main difference is that cessationism considers that to be more an issue in the past–although many cessationists do make allowance for modern miracles (just not modern miracle-workers).
Yet by accepting the Protestant canon, cessationists are required to distinguish between true and false revelatory claimants. So it's a difference of degree rather than kind between cessationists and continuationists.
v) Apropos (iv), three groups raise the same basic issue:
Critical scholars regard the traditional canon of Scripture (whether Tridentine, Eastern Orthodox, Oriental Orthodox, or Protestant) as an arbitrary selection. They think the cutoff between canonical and extracanonical books is ad hoc. That's because they believe both the OT and the NT contain pseudepigrapha. By the same token, they think some OT books chronologically overlap intertestamental literature while some NT books chronologically overlap some 2C literature. So, for instance, they think it's ad hoc to canonize Daniel but exclude 1 Enoch. Either canonize both or exclude both. Likewise, they think it's ad hoc to canonize Jude. 2 Peter, John, or 1 John, but exclude the Gospel of Thomas.
Likewise, Catholic apologists contend that Protestants can't justify the cutoff for their canon. And in similar vein, cessationists say continuationists can't justify the cutoff for their canon.
Of course, an obvious problem with this line of argument is when competing groups raise the same basic objection, that ricochets on their own position. Cessationists are using an argument against continuationists which Catholic apologists use against cessationists. And Catholic apologists are using an argument which critical scholars use against Catholic apologists.
Indeed, contemporary Catholic Bible scholars are critical scholars. They think Trent unwittingly canonized many books under false auspices.
vi) To be sure, cessationists deny that the Protestant canon contains pseudepigrapha. But then, continuationists say the same thing. Both groups use the same arguments in that regard.
vii) Cessationists make the apostles or their immediate successors the cutoff. However, St. Paul poses a dilemma for their position. He isn't connected to the historical Jesus the way the Twelve were. If God could raise up Paul, even though Paul wasn't a regular companion of Christ, and received crucial information, either by revelation or tradition, then the cessationist cutoff is makeshift. Conversely, if Paul is anomalous, then continuationists can draw the same line.
viii) Another problem is how their objections to continuationism and the canon have a parallel respecting the OT canon. Even if cessationists say the death of the apostles or their immediate successors demarcates the NT canon, that doesn't work for the OT canon. When cessationists say continuationists have no principled cutoff for the canon, aren't cessationists in the same situation respecting the OT canon?
By that I mean, is there an a priori objection to the production of Scripture during that 400 year interval? Sure, it's called the Interestamental period, so, by definition, that's in-between the OT and the NT. But that's a conventional designation. Is there in principle a reason to deny that God might have raised up new prophets or inspired new writings during that period? I can't think of any.
Seems to me the reason evangelicals deny it is not because that's antecedently inadmissible, but because there are no good candidates for that period. When we look at the evidence, when we look at the record, we have no reason to think God did it that way. Our conclusion is not a matter of principle, but a matter of fact.
So even if (ex hypothesi), continuationists are unable to furnish an a priori cutoff for the canon, cessationists are in the same boat. And by the same token, there can be a posteriori arguments for the closure of the canon.
ix) Mind you, it would be extremely destabilizing if God were to raise up figure like St. Paul at this late date. So that of itself might be an priori argument–which cessationists and continuationists alike could invoke.
Friday, February 13, 2015
Hyper-Dispensationalist Doug Stauffer
Typically, hyper-dispenationalists invest ultimate authority into an early 17th century Anglican English translation of the Bible (aka KJV 1611).
But if you have never been exposed to what hyper-dispensationlists believe, here is a flavor:
Basically Doug Stauffer believes less than 40% (or 35%) of the NT applies to Christians: Minus the Gospels, Acts, Hebrews and other epistles, and the book of Revelation.
Marcion anyone?
But if you have never been exposed to what hyper-dispensationlists believe, here is a flavor:
According to Stauffer, Paul is THE spokesman for the church age (p. 17); the general epistles of Hebrews to Revelation, while containing some church age applications, are actually written for Great Tribulation saints (pp. 20, 27); salvation is obtained by works during the Tribulation (p. 23); Hebrews and James do not teach eternal security (pp. 23, 29); Peter did not preach the gospel of the grace of God (p. 26); the seven churches of Revelation 1-3 are not the body of Christ (p. 29); the epistle of first John teaches that salvation is through works (p. 56); the book of Acts was not given “to show how to establish the local church or its functions” (p. 72), Abraham had to keep his salvation through works (p. 175).http://www.wayoflife.org/index_files/beware_of_hyper_dispensatinalism.html
Basically Doug Stauffer believes less than 40% (or 35%) of the NT applies to Christians: Minus the Gospels, Acts, Hebrews and other epistles, and the book of Revelation.
Marcion anyone?
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Evangelicalism and OEC
Yesterday, Justin Taylor did a post questioning the calendar day interpretation of Gen 1. To judge by reactions I've seen, this generated some shock waves.
Some people seem to think this represents a sinister shift away from the status quo ante. Now, I don't think Justin made a very strong case for his position.
But I'm struck by how many people seem to find his position surprising or even shocking. Yet OEC has been pretty mainstream in evangelism, including Calvinism and/or Dispensationalism, for generations.
The SBC is noncommittal on YEC. Reformed denominations like the OPC, PCA, and URC are noncommittal on YEC. Likewise, most prominent Reformed seminaries are noncommittal on YEC, viz. WTS, RTS, WSC, Covenant Seminary, Knox Seminary.
An exception is GPTS, which represents Old School Southern Presbyterian theology. But even R. L. Dabney, in his old age, promoted the ruin-reconstruction theory in his epic poem ("The Christology of the Angels").
Likewise, I don't believe that DTS, the flagship of Dispensational seminaries, has ever been committed to YEC. And many venerable Dispensationalists espouse the gap theory/ruin-reconstruction theory, or the day-age theory.
So Justin's position doesn't represent a novel trend or sudden defection from the status quo ante. Why do some critics act so surprised or shocked? Are they just unacquainted with modern church history?
Keep in mind that this is distinct from evaluating his proposal. I'm just struck by how many of his critics find this startling.
One reason may be if this is seen in the context of concerted efforts like BioLogos, John Walton, and Peter Enns to redirect the church and redefine Christian theology. But to my knowledge, there's no evidence that Justin is part of that agenda. To the contrary, I believe he's behind the publication of recent books defending the historicity and inerrancy of Scripture.
Thursday, January 08, 2015
Thursday, January 01, 2015
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Tuesday, October 07, 2014
Wednesday, October 01, 2014
The Texas takeover
Tremper Longman has an update on the Machiavellian machinations at Westminster:
But why is Bruce getting this unprecedented honor at Westminster? There are many others from Westminster’s past who deserve acclamation. I would suggest two reasons. First, it is part of an attempt to distract us from what appears to be a strategy of narrowing the theology of the Seminary.
I appreciate his insight. I look forward to subsequent posts in which he gets to the bottom of Area 51, the Apollo moon "landings," and the International Jewish Conspiracy.
But this also tells us something about why Westminster is changing in the direction it is hermeneutically. Bruce, Peter and Greg and others (notice that this celebration is being co-sponsored by others from Dallas) are all part of a group that were associated with Dallas seminary forty or so years ago (Dave Garner also has a DTS background).
Their spiritual leader was S. Lewis Johnson of Believers Chapel. This group departed from their DTS background by rejecting dispensationalism, but they maintained a more literalist understanding of interpretation which includes a commitment to meaning found in the conscious intention of the human author.
Without question, this theology stands behind their rejection of Christotelic and affirmation of something that they call a Christomorphic reading of the New Testament use of the Old Testament.
That's very perceptive. However, his theory suffers from a prima facie inconcinnity After all, aren't Carl Trueman, Iain Duguid, and Vern Poythress key players in this crypto-Dispensational takeover? In the interests of consistency, Tremper needs to rope them into the Texas cabal. Permit me to supplement Tremper's narrative.
This all got started in the kitchen of W. A. Criswell. His mansion had a farmhouse kitchen with a big round table where he and his drinking buddies (Paul Pressler, Paige Patterson, John Walvoord, S. Lewis Johnson) used to play poker into the wee hours of the morning. That's where the plot was hatched to infiltrate the flagship of Reformed seminaries. They knew that dispensationalism wouldn't triumph unless they could sabotage Calvinism from within. A decapitation strike. The plan was to infiltrate Westminster with dispensational plants.
So they needed recruits. Tremper has already done us a service by outing some of the spies. But what about the Texas connection vis-a-vis Trueman, Duguid, and Poythress?
To begin with, those are not their real names. Trueman is a pun for "man of truth", while Duguid is a pun for "do-gooder". So these are pseudonyms. Isn't it obvious? Like, duh!
Then there's Poythress. Honestly, does that sound like a real name to you? How many of your high school classmates had that surname? Think about it?
Here's a clue: is it just coincidental that Poythress is an anagram for "others spy"? I think not! He's a spy for Criswell and his cohorts. I mean, what could be more obvious?
Don't let that hokey English accent fool you: Trueman was born and bred in Amarillo. Trueman's real name is Boobie Miles. When he thinks nobody is listening, he sounds just like Rick Perry. He learned to fake that English accent by imitating Michael Caine in Alfie.
Trueman's original ambition was to play for the Dallas Cowboys. That's before he blew out his kneecap at a homecoming game.
That's why he's always making fun of football. It's part of his cover. He bashes football to deflect attention away from the fact that he played football in high school.
Then there's Poythress. He's actually from Paris, Texas. His real name is Sonny Crawford. His boyhood dream was to be a rodeo star. That's before he tore his rotator cuff from bronc riding.
Then there's Duguid. He's from Archer City. His real name is Duane Jackson. He picked up his fake accent by imitating Christopher Timothy in All Creatures Great and Small. He was a teenage gas station attendant until the Blessed Virgin appeared to him in a beer bottle and commanded him to make a pilgrimage to First Baptist in Dallas. That's where he met up with his coconspirators. And the rest, as they say, is history.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Models of visionary revelation
1. Some books of the Bible draw heavily on visionary revelation (e.g. Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, Zechariah, Revelation). It's striking to me that scholars who write commentaries on these books rarely spend much time on the psychology of visionary revelation. They discuss genre, symbolism, schools of interpretation, rules of interpretation, yet they rarely explore the experience of visionary revelation, and how that might impact interpretation.
2. In theory, visionary revelation could employ two different modes of image-processing:
i) Movietheater model
Visionary revelation might be analogous to watching a movie. The viewer is stationary, while the scenery is in motion (or the illusion of motion). Like a movie theater, where you sit still, in front of a screen, watching a series of rapid fire images. One scene after another.
ii) VR model
Visionary revelation might be analogous to a VR program. Unlike watching a movie, this would be an immersive, interactive experience. The scenery is stationary while the observer is in motion (or the illusion of motion).
This is also analogous to those time-travel dramas where you can dial up a particular date in the past or future, maybe see a preview, step through a portal, and there you are–right in the thick of things.
The moviegoer model is an extension of looking at a still picture. The observer remains outside the picture.
The VR mode is like stepping right into the picture. The observer finds himself inside the picture.
3. Does Scripture give any indication which of these models is closer to the truth? It's possible that God uses both modalities at different times.
Visionary revelation includes revelatory dreams. Dreams are immersive, interactive. That would fit with the VR model. Likewise, in Ezk 40-48, the prophet is given a guided tour of the temple complex. He seems to be moving through the temple complex. That, too, would fit the VR model.
This may be dream-like, where certain details are fuzzy. Perhaps he doesn't describe the temple ceiling, if there is a ceiling, because he does't look up.
4. In Rev 19-20 we have a battle, followed by the "Millennium," (and the binding of Satan) followed by another battle. Premils regard this as a continuous action.
Some amils, based on recapitulatory parallelism, regard 20 as a new cycle. I agree with amils that Revelation contains recapitulatory parallelism, but I'm not convinced that there's a hard break between 19 and 20. So it's possible that 20 is a continuation of 19.
Amils also draw attention to the parallels between the battle scenes in 19 and 20. Both are literarily indebted to Ezk 38-39.
Consider a thought-experiment. Suppose we view the battles scenes in 19:11-21 and 20:7-10 as two sides of the same panel, while 20:1-6 is the hinge. If you swing the panel to the right, that displays 19:11-21. If you swing the panel to the left, that displays 20:7-10.
Which is the front and which is the back? That depends on the direction in which you approach the panel. If you approach the panel from one side, that's the side you're facing. If you approach the panel from the other side, that's the side you're facing.
In that respect, which battle is before or after the other depends on where you are standing in relation to the panel. The Apocalypse is written in a particular sequence, in part because writing is inherently linear.
But John's visionary experience may have been more spatial. Simulated locomotion. He moves from scene to scene. The battle scenes in 19:11-21 and 20:7-10 may have similar features because these are two sides of the same panel.
Monday, August 04, 2014
Israel: past, present, and future
I don't support the modern state of Israel for dispensational reasons. That said, it's important to know what the dispensational case for modern Israel is. Hacks and quacks like John Hagee and Pat Roberson do more harm than good. Here's the dispensational case from a number of reputable dispensational scholars:
Monday, July 28, 2014
Evaluating the Arab–Israeli conflict
One reason professing Christians disagree on the Arab-Israeli conflict is because they approach the issue with different criteria. Instead of debating the particulars of the Arab-Israeli conflict, it would be more productive to analyze the criteria by which they evaluate this conflict. To some extent I think there's a failure to recognize or make explicit their criteria.
I. Theological
Dispensationalists side with Israel because they think the modern state of Israel represents the ongoing fulfillment of promise and prophecy. God gave the Jews this land. That's an irrevocable divine promise.
Conversely, you have Reformed Baptist and Reformed Presbyterians who either side with the "Palestinians" or at least try to be even-handed (as they see it) in opposition to dispensationalism. The position they take on the Arab-Israeli conflict is an indirect result of the direct position they take in opposition to dispensational theology.
Nowadays, some Christians have a Calvinist soteriology, but a dispensational eschatology. But I'm referring to Reformed Baptists and Reformed Presbyterians who espouse traditional covenant theology.
II. Social justice
i) Many people who side with the "Palestinians" frame the issue as a social justice issue. This includes many secular liberals, and "progressive Christians," as well as some conservative evangelicals.
The liberals view Hamas and the PLO as freedom fighters rather than terrorists. They distinguish between the just cause (as they define it) and the means. Even if Hamas or the PLO resorts terrorist tactics, that's in the service of a just cause. And they view that as counterterrorism in response to Israeli terrorism.
The just cause is the axiom that Palestine is "occupied" territory. The Israelis expelled the Palestinians from their homes during the war of independence. Therefore, "Palestinians" are simply fighting back to reclaim what was theirs all along.
Conservative evangelicals don't go that far. But they try to be equitable. They deplore the "cycle of violence" on both sides. They want to be fair to the "Palestinians." They think the "Palestinians" suffered a genuine and grave injustice during the war of independence. "Palestinians" have legitimate historical grievances with their Israeli overlords.
ii) One problem with the social justice angle is that it's premised on a historical narrative that's hotly contested. Jewish sources present a very different version of events:
iii) Apropos (ii), someone might object that I just cited a biased source. And I don't dispute that. But that's a problem with the premise. Most of us aren't qualified to assess the historical claims and counter-claims. Most of us are in no position to sift through the competing narratives and decide which account is more accurate.
iv) However, some proponents of this criterion also cite pro-Palestinian Jewish sources. Supposedly, that's objective and unbiased. After all, these are Israelis or Jews criticizing their own people. Speaking for myself, the mere fact that you can find Jews who take the Palestinian side leaves me unimpressed.
a) Judaism isn't monolithic. It ranges all along a political and theological spectrum, from far left to far right.
b) To my knowledge, Israel has nearly universal conscription (with few exemptions). The IDF isn't composed of rightwing patriots who volunteer to defend their country. Rather, every political viewpoint will be represented in the IDF, due to the demographically sweeping scope of the draft. As such, it isn't hard to quote dissenters within the ranks.
Likewise, you have Jewish-American professors who, from the safety of their American campus, can afford to pander to the jihadists. So what?
v) There is also the underlying assumption that social problems in the present have their "root cause" in the past. To solve the problem, we must discover the source of the problem by tracing the effect back to some past miscarriage of justice–be it real, imagined, or exaggerated. It's like Freudian psychology transposed to a sociological key. Like something went wrong in childhood. So we're always treated to a history lesson.
But aside from the question of whether the historical reconstruction is accurate, another weakness with this analysis is that the same types of problems recur in different settings, where the background conditions are very different.
vi) Yet another problem with the social justice angle is the assumption that Israel should treat Muslims better than Muslims treat each other. But why do Muslims expect strangers to treat Muslims better than Muslims treat their own kind? Muslims routinely brutalize fellow Muslims.
vii) Apropos (vi), by what standard are we judging Israelis? Are we holding them to Christian standards? But since most Israelis aren't Christian, why would we expect them to defend themselves according to Christian ethics? In a sense, we can judge all parties to that standard, but we can't very well hold them to that standard.
viii) There's also the question of how Christians could or should defend themselves in similar circumstances. If you're up against a ruthless, fanatical opponent who sacrifices his own women and children for the cause, who will never make peace with you, what realistic choice does he leave you? Frankly, I think Israel exhibits excessive restraint.
ix) Thankfully I don't live in Israel. I can only imagine what a tremendous cumulative psychological toll it takes to live in a place where you never feel safe. Where you're in constant danger.
The predictability of the general threat (something bad is bound to happen every so often), yet unpredictability of the specific threats (not knowing when and where the terrorists will strike next). The tunnels exemplify that. The enemy can pop out of nowhere. I think that would generate a claustrophobic cultural mindset.
That's exacerbated by the fact that Israel is so small: the size of NJ. So there's no buffer zone. It can hit you before you know it. The enemy can be right on top of you before you know it, much less have time to react.
How can you live in a state of fear 24/7? Do Israelis just become inured to the omnipresent sense of danger? Do they become fatalistic?
III. Risk Assessment
Then you have folks who pick a side based on who's a natural ally or adversary. Who poses a threat to you, your family, you're livelihood? It isn't based on history or eschatology, the past or the future, but on the present. Jews and Israelis aren't dangerous to Americans–although some Jews espouse secular ideologies that are dangerous to Christian freedom of expression. By contrast, Muslims have proven themselves to be dangerous to everyone.
This is not the same thing as Realpolitik. We have a Christian duty to protect our dependents and practice our faith.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Literary intercalation
John's literary strategy is intercalation. He will interrupt the story of the Woman and the Dragon by intercalating a totally different story.
One can note how the millennial reign is intercalated between binding and loosing episodes in 20:1-3 and 20:7-15. This literary construction is similar to Michael's war with the Dragon intercalated into the story of the Woman and the Dragon (12:7-12). Gerald L. Stevens, Revelation: The Past and Future of John's Apocalypse (Pickwick Publications, 2014), 424, 509.
This analysis undermines the view that these are sequential events.
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Earthy amillennialism
i) At the risk of oversimplification, premils interpret Revelation more literally, but think the bulk of the action takes place at the tailend of church history while amils interpret Revelation more symbolically, but think the bulk of the action takes place throughout the church age.
To some extent these are irreconcilable positions. As such, the amil/premil debate will remain at an impasse. But to some extent I think it poses a false dichotomy.
ii) I think many amils are repelled by the "materialism" or "carnality" of the premil reading. Repelled by cartoonish depictions of Armageddon in pop dispensationalism. Repelled by the suggestion that Revelation is describing real physical warfare in the future. Real bloodshed. Flesh-and-blood combatants attacking each other.
Amils react by etherializing, privatizing, and even secularizing the text. That it's basically about the history of world missions, and sanctification (i.e. the battle between good and evil within the human heart).
That, however, generates an internal tension in amil hermeneutics. For if Revelation is, in fact, describing church history in general, then church history includes real warfare. For instance, during the Reformation and Counter-Reformation, Catholic authorities tried to exterminate the Protestant movement. That led to civil wars and armed resistance. So if, as amils, we think the descriptions in Revelation apply to church history, then some of the martial imagery could and should be taken more literally. For church history is often gritty, grisly, and gory. That's unfortunate, but that's a fact.
iii) This also goes to the nature of the symbolism. For instance, the OT contains some mythopoetic descriptions of the Exodus (e.g. Ps 74:13-15; Isa 51:9-10). Yet these correspond to an actual event. Likewise, we have a couple of back-to-back accounts of OT battles, where the first version is prosaic while the second version is poetic (Exod 14-15; Judg 4-5).
A symbolic account doesn't imply that what the account stands for is a different kind of event. To the contrary, it can be the same kind of event.
I don't think an angel opens a hatch in the firmament and empties a bucket of brimstone onto the earth below. And I doubt John thought that either. But the OT depicts real natural disasters, real celestial portents and prodigies. As such, there's no reason to preempt an interpretation of the Apocalypse in terms real natural disasters, astronomical phenomena, angelic apparitions, &c. There's ample precedent for that in OT history and literature.
When, therefore, Revelation contains battle scenes, the fact that these are couched in symbolic imagery doesn't necessarily mean they stand for something other than actual battles. Although that's possible, the mere fact that the descriptors are metaphorical doesn't entail that conclusion.
iv) Revelation naturally depicts warfare in archaic terms. Yet in theory, even that could be fairly realistic. If the power grid was destroyed by cyberterrorists or EMP devices, our hitech society would revert to more primitive technology.
I happen to think that's a clunky way to interpret futuristic prophecy. But I make that observation for the sake of argument, as a limiting case.
v) In addition, the OT records numerous conflicts that include supernatural elements: angels, miracles, natural disasters (e.g. Gen 19:11,24; Exod 10:21-23; 14:19-20; Josh 5:13-15; 10:11-14; Jdgs 5:20-23; 2 Kgs 6:17; 19:35; 20:8-11; Isa 38:7-8; Dan 3:25,28; 6:22). Once again, there's ample precedent for the possibility that the descriptions in Revelation are more realistic than amil exegesis typically allows for.
vi) In church history, miracles are reported in connection with Christian persecution (e.g. the Covenanters, the Camisards). If Revelation depicts recurring kinds of events in the course of church history, then the supernatural elements in the Revelation narrative may well have church historical counterparts.
vii) In my opinion, the imagery in Revelation is flexible. Although it sometimes denotes specific events (e.g. the life of Christ, the final judgment), it more often denotes particular kinds of events rather than particular events. Kinds are repeatable. That dovetails with the cyclical action we find in Revelation.
It's possible that if the conflict escalates towards the end of the church age, church history will more closely resemble OT history in terms of open supernaturalism. To that extent, one can agree with amils on the scope of Revelation, but agree with premils on the physicality or supernaturalism of the referents. Amils view the plot of Revelation as a spiral, combining repetition with progression. And a spiral and pick up the pace towards the end–as it narrows.
Ironically, many premils are cessationists, which generates a degree of tension between their cessationism and their supernaturalistic reading of Revelation. Apparently, cessationism is suspended towards the end.
My point is not to take a firm position on how to correlate Revelation with future events. My point, rather, is to expand our interpretive repertoire.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Why the millennium?
1) I'm an unrepentant amil. I'm admittedly hostile to classical dispensational hermeneutics. For instance, I think the commentary on Revelation by Robert Thomas is a reductio ad absurdum of that approach.
But to be fair, I think the weaknesses of classical dispensational hermeneutics represents an overreaction to the weaknesses of Augustinian amil hermeneutics. Augustine was a rampant allegorist, so that's a bad model of how to do exegesis. A mid-course correction was long overdue.
In addition, some amils seem to be repelled by the physicality of the premil/dispensational millennium. But Scripture is very down-to-earth. And discomfort with physicality often elides into liberal theology.
2) I think John's millennium refers to the intermediate state. But suppose, for the sake of argument, I was a premil. How would I argue for the millennium?
Although premils aren't committed to a literal 1000-year period, let's take that literally for the sake of argument. Why a 1000-year period?
Here's one suggestion: Is it coincidental that even though some prediluvians lived into their 900s, none of them broke the 1000 mark? The millennium is a transitional phase or compromise. Not as good as the eternal state, but better than life in a fallen world before the Parousia.
In a way, it parallels the balmy physical conditions of the prediluvian period. That wasn't as good as life before the Fall. The expulsion from the Garden, thereby barring access to the tree of life, made immortality a lost opportunity. Yet the millennium seems to be a throwback to the silver age physical conditions of the prediluvian period. Not the golden age of Eden. Yet there's a steady decline in longevity after the flood. The patriarchs are long-lived, but nothing like the prediluvians.
3) The stock amil objection to the millennial temple is that it's retrograde. And in a basic, indisputable sense, that's true. However:
i) One way of demonstrating that something is obsolete is to keep an example around. That way, people can directly compare and contrast old and new, before and after.
The millennial temple could be like a museum, to commemorate an important phase in redemptive history.
ii) There's nothing inherently wrong with taking an interest in the past. If we could jump in the time machine, surely many of us would like to visit Solomon's temple, as well as see many OT events for ourselves. That's not the same thing as nostalgia. That doesn't mean we think the past is necessarily better. It's just natural curiosity. Pious curiosity.
4) Is a millennial temple redundant?
i) In Ezk 8-11, the prophet has a vision of the Shekinah forsaking the temple.
ii) One question is what the visions represent. Are visions like remote cameras which enable the prophet to see things offsite, at a different place (and time)? Did the Shekinah actually forsake the temple? Or is this a symbolic vision?
iii) A related question is whether the Shekinah took up permanent residence within the inner sanctum, or did the Shekinah only enter and occupy the temple temporarily as God's way of dedicating the (Solomonic) temple? (Ditto: the tabernacle).
iv) It's striking that even though the temple was rebuilt, at the instigation of Haggai and Zechariah, there's no record of the Shekinah returning to the Second Temple, even to dedicate it, much less take up permanent residence. In that respect, the Second Temple was a hollow shell–unlike Solomon's temple.
v) Amils argue that Jesus is the new temple. And that identification is supported by John's Gospel. John also uses Shekinah imagery for Jesus (Jn 1:14). For a full discussion, cf. G. Beale, The Temple and the Church's MIssion, 192-200. So it may well be the case that from hereon out, a physical temple is superfluous.
vi) However, that raises the question of which person of the Trinity corresponds to the Shekinah. In the NT (e.g. Pauline pneumatology), the Shekinah is more often associated with the Spirit rather than the Son. Christians are temples in miniature. The indwelling Spirit is the NT counterpart to the Shekinah filling the sanctuary.
As such, the first and second advents of Christ don't necessarily exhaust God's self-revelation. Although there's a soteriological sense in which Jesus takes the place of the temple, he doesn't take the place of the Holy Spirit or the Shekinah.
So even if, during the Millennium, Ezekiel's temple (Ezk 40-48) was rebuilt, and the Holy Spirit once again manifested himself as the Shekinah within the inner sanctum, that wouldn't necessarily be redundant–for that would manifest a different person of the Godhead. Just as a Christophany is a manifestation of the Son, the presence of God in Christ doesn't preclude the descent of the Spirit as a dove at the Baptism of Christ. We can experience God in the person of the Spirit as well as the person of the Son.
vii) Finally, it's striking that the Son and Spirit sometimes take visible manifestations whereas the Father sometimes takes audible manifestations (Mt 3:17; 17:5; Jn 12:28-29). The Father is sometimes heard, but never seen. So there are different ways in which members of the Trinity manifest themselves to human observers. These are not interchangeable.
Although Christ is fully God, it's incorrect to say God is fully revealed in the person of Son, for the Son is not reducible to the Spirit, or vice versa.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)