Li’l Post Defending Post Mil, Part 3

Continuing the back and forth about postmillennialism I was having with some friends, and some challenges they presented, I wanted to pass on this third exchange. Identifiers are left out because the respondent didn’t know at the time of writing that he was going to be on camera, and might have polished arguments

Opponent’s Challenges

Hi All,

I’m happy to continue the dialogue, even if through this cumbersome and limited medium. Tim, I appreciate your push back – especially in helping us all distinguish between good and poor arguments. It’s hard, though, to not be able to make clarifications in real time, as I think that could strengthen arguments that are initially dismissed for one reason or another. 

There are so many categories of arguments: biblical, philosophical, historical, logical, theological, parables of the nature of the kingdom, etc. All of them have merit, but not all are of equal significance. I think we can all agree that biblical (hermeneutically-based) arguments should carry the most weight. But then, that brings us to the analogy of the blind men trying to accurately describe an elephant, with limited access to the whole picture, and the fact that even the most astute biblical scholars can’t agree. Perhaps we should start with the things that are quite clear, that we can all agree on. Most churches limit their on-line statements of faith to such things. The problem is, eschatology-buffs like us deem the stake to be just too high, to not press the issue further. But even God himself seems to limit the disclosure of his secrets and mysteries until just the proper time (Daniel 11:9).

This Christmas, we dutifully assembled another traditional holiday jigsaw puzzle. To me, it was a perfect picture of the puzzle of eschatology. (Tim, you’re gonna love this.) First, we always create the perimeter boundary. Why? because it’s the easiest. Our eschatology has certain clearly-defined boundaries also, that should be easy for us to assemble. After that, the process is not just a matter of connecting adjacent pieces. Smaller pictures within the big picture begin to emerge separately and initially unconnected to each other. These are the “big rocks” that we can all agree on beyond the clearly-needed boundaries, but we’re still not sure where they fit within the whole. Lastly, there are the puzzle pieces that have no clear distinguishing marks. They largely all look the same, and must be fitted through the tedious task of trial and error. They are what connect all the big rocks into one cohesive, meaningful, big picture. Unfortunately, no theologian has such a picture as of yet. Each system or model has pieces that don’t seem to fit. And so we’re drawn to speculation and probabilities. As one prominent Amillennialist has said, “This model seems to offer the most simplicity and elegance, having the least number of problems.” (That being his educated opinion, of course.)

One Postmil friend of mine recently posted a different quote on FB, which I’m sure you will love. It comes at the problem from a completely different angle – one of logical consistency:

“If you advocate Christian individuals, families, friendships, churches, schools, and colleges, but shy away from a Christian social order — i.e., courts, politics, military, science, technology, and business — you might want to consider which biblical arguments justify the former class but exclude the latter. In the end, if you believe anything in the world should be Christian, you should believe everything should be Christian.”

I appreciate this point, which initially seems quite compelling and logical. However, upon greater scrutiny, (as is usually the case), it is filled with implicit (though not obviously apparent) presumptions. I would not say that the assertion should be thrown out altogether; it’s just that there are critical nuances to consider. It reminds me of an often-used quote in our movement of churches. Pastor Herschel Martindale once had an epiphany when confronted with two questions by a speaker at a conference: 1) “Does God want to reach the whole world with the gospel in this generation?” And 2) “If every Christian was doing what you’re doing, would the world be reached?” Ouch! God used that to set Hershel’s life on a very fruitful trajectory of evangelism and mission work. Amen. I cannot disparage that fruit. But again, do those challenging questions come from biblically-certain, theological premises? I would certainly not stake my own life on that! Similarly, the Perspectives Class has been used by God to mobilize countless missionaries and churches. The fruit is undeniable. And yet, the entire impetus and urgency that is consistently conveyed is based upon one, hermeneutically-debatable verse – Matthew 24:14. A verse within one of the most hotly-contested, problematic, eschatological passages in the whole Bible, and one which can biblically be argued to have been fulfilled within the first century! So it is abundantly clear that we cannot rely on “fruit” in order to validate our biblical hermeneutic. And as teachers, we must reject the pragmatic temptation to employ less-than-sound biblical arguments in our exhortations, regardless of their emotional potency or temporal efficacy. That is manipulation, the ends of which, never justify the means. 

So where am I going with this? Well, if the postmillennial model imbues the gospel message with certain debatable attributes (i.e. the inherent power to be truimphantly, ubiquitously, gloriously, victoriously successful, within every sphere of human existence, within a certain parameter of time), AND this is the impetus, urgency, and motivation for Christians to assert their birthright with that expectation and goal in mind, is it not on the similarly shakey ground as my previous examples? Ground upon which certain premises are clearly assumed, and that theological scholars to this day cannot agree upon? Is it pushing for a good thing (like a church more militant), but based upon the more questionable jigsaw puzzle pieces? My jigsaw puzzle at home carried with it, no mandates upon completion. And since no eschat. model is truly complete, should we base any mandates or even incentives upon them? I would emphatically say no!

Tim graciously acknowledged the pragmatic flaws associated with both the Premil and Postmil models. For me, Premil has so many clear biblical flaws that its pragmatic flaws are moot! And as I think about Postmil and Amil, I likewise am drawn to prioritize the strength and weaknesses of their biblical undergirdings, rather than their potential misuses. I am drawn to revisit things that are clear in Scripture, even if they don’t provide the whole picture. Things like the true, biblically identified, constraining factor, delaying the Lord’s return. It is in no way implied to be a certain degree of global righteousness (or however one chooses to describe it) for some duration of time, but rather, explicitly: 1) the unquantifiable “fulnesss of Gentiles converts”; and 2) the complete number of martyrs to be killed. That does not, in itself, disqualify the Postmil model, but it does inform the boundaries of its usefulness.

But since it was asked, I will say that my biblical motivations for being actively engaged in the Great Commission come from Matthew 28 itself. To me, that is clear enough, and should be sufficient enough to mobilize the Church to obey it. I don’t need (nor should I need) any incentive to go and make disciples, other than the promised assurance of a biblically-defined entity called “all Israel,” being saved.” Nor is it my prerogative to assume what that must be, numerically or percentage-wise. Also, I’m motivated by my belief that Jesus clearly taught that the “strong man” (Satan) is currently bound, for the explicit purpose of Christ successfully “plundering his house” which is obviously occurring during this time, the Church Age. The gates of hell will not prevail against us. Is that not enough? The fruit, however, is entirely (and I cannot underscore this more heavily)… entirely up to the Lord. 

When God invited Abraham to “count the stars” of the night sky, he would only have been able to see around 3,000 with the naked eye. Is that to be our missional expectation? Of course not. Likewise, God could not have meant the literal number of stars in the universe, as they exceed the total population of humanity by many, many of orders of magnitude. So I think he simply meant “a lot.” But to infer that “a lot” necessarily means most, or even a majority, is unsubstantiated and speculative. Biblically, God’s people have always been referred to as a “remnant” (which by definition, does not impress, numerically!) Even in the New Testament, Paul refers to believers as a “remnant” (Rom. 9:27, 11:1, 5). To me, that does not evoke or reinforce a Postil’s expectation. The Reformers built their theology upon a theological foundation that God is just in condemning the entire human race to hell. Period. Full stop. And that he was under no obligation to save any. But in his infinite mercy, has chosen to save some. In light of that, I am faced with the following questions:

  • Is there any biblical necessity, that more people are ultimately saved, than lost? (No) 
  • Is there any biblical necessity, that more generations of humans experience a majority Christian culture than those that do not? (No)
  • Is there any biblical necessity for Jesus to subdue all his enemies for a thousand years prior to his return, rather than at his return? (No)
  • Is there any biblical necessity, to define the gospel’s success, numerically, percentage-wise, or culturally? No. (But even if so, who gets to define that?)
  • Does the Bible really teach that there are three distinct ages: (now, a millennial age, and post 2nd Coming, or just two ages? (Consistently the latter.)

Thanks for indulging me here. Just some more “cannon fodder” (which is the name of an old video game I used to play), ha!

I love and respect you guys!

My Response

Gentleman,

My apologies again for the misfire email I sent. I keep a running draft on my email so I can work on it when I have time, and I was editing it on my phone. I have never been accused of having nimble thumbs. So you got a bit of a sneak peek into my response.

It’s been a while. I just returned from a conference in Texas entitled “Blueprints for Christendom 2.0”, where pastors like Doug Wilson, Joe Boot, and others laid out seven foundational footings for Christendom: postmillennialism, patriarchy, theonomy, covenant theology, etc. Some were good, some not as good, but I am glad I went. The most encouraging thing by far were all the babies and toddlers toddling around; the expo center was filled with the echoes of cooing, crying and jangling toys. TONS of young families. The reason I bring this up is to emphasize the importance of conversations such as the one we are having. Things are on the move in the world and having thoughtful responses is increasingly necessary. So I applaud and encourage you pastors in your willingness to not spare our church from the conversation. Again, I offer my gifts to whatever extent they may be useful.

I will take a more inquisitive approach here, as I find I am having a hard time grabbing onto the Amil loincloth in this eschatological sumo match. So first I want to use the puzzle analogy from the previous message, but then, instead of defending my position again, would like to riposte and have someone else take a turn parrying some thrusts. Tedium can set in when these conversations begin to eddy back on themselves, at which point a different tack is needed to keep things fresh. 

I want to reuse the previous puzzle analogy. There is always a danger when you use someone’s analogy of hopping into the driver’s seat and slamming it into a tree, using it for purposes it was not made for. But, as you say, it really is a good analogy and I would like to get a few more miles out of it. You described the puzzling together of eschatology well, and I do agree that it is an adequate description of how we do (and probably ought to) build our understanding – from the outside in, framing the unknown within the boundaries of the known. If I may augment the analogy a bit, I would like to observe another important feature of puzzle building, and that is referencing the picture on the box. Finding the edge pieces is easy enough, but assembling even those pieces requires a “top down” approach of referencing the picture. Attempting to complete the puzzle “bottom up” without reference to the picture would be cumbersome and stupid, though I am sure some weirdos do it that way.

When it comes to our understanding of eschatology, the “bottom up” approach would be akin to parsing through all the verses, all the prophecies, all the double-entendre psalms, and matching up lip to lip to see if it fits. As we know, some of the pieces seem to fit equally well in this or that spot if we are just looking at a pile of jagged verses, and some are made to fit with a stiff thwamp from the meat of the hand. What we must do is use the reference picture on the box which to help us see the big picture, the whole plan, the artist’s intention. When we do this we are able to step back and see the whole story and see that the eschatology pieces are an important, but small, part of the glorious and salvific themes of the Bible and the magnification of God.

The reason I think this is a good amendment to the analogy is because it highlights the idea that God’s plan for history is not confined to a few verses in a difficult chapter in a cryptic book, where we find the verses on the millennium, but expands the theme to the whole Bible. If history ends in a premillennial way, this would be an ending fitting a story written with premillennial plot lines, so to speak. Just like in The Sixth Sense, once the ending is revealed you could rewatch it and see the whole movie building to the climactic revelation slapping the forehead incredulously on how you could have missed something so obvious. You can’t unsee it. This is why I prefer to talk about the Kingdom and not eschatology; this is why I made the eight week class of the Kingdom, only one week given to eschatology, though, as you know, the whole thing was infused with Kingdom perspectives. Indeed, it was impossible for it not to be – it’s the puzzle I see on the box. This is all to say that it isn’t only the book of Revelation or the Olivet discourse that we ought to consider to piece our puzzle together, but look at the entire Bible for the grand picture before we fit things in. 

As a brief aside, this is what I think J was getting at when he made his comments about not being able to understand the New Testament without a right understanding of the Old. It is absolutely true that the NT reveals the true meaning of the OT, revealing Christ in all the nooks and crannies. The OT was shrouded in mystery and the NT unveiled those mysteries. Like in the Sixth Sense analogy above, J spent most of his life watching the end of the movie, where the mystery is revealed. But without seeing the whole movie, the mystery doesn’t make as much sense, nor is it remarkable, until he spends time watching the first part of the movie. Then the extent to which the mystery infused all of the movie was made known. In the same way, a robust understanding of the OT sets the stage to see how deep and wide and broad the mystery of the Kingdom was baked into the story of the coming of the kingdom of God, which is the story of all history.

That God will unfold history for his glory exactly according to his intentions no one is debating. But this does mean our story ends with God either magnifying his justice in his wrath against a disobedient world and the hubris of sinful man, while saving out of it the few chosen, or with Christ returning to a world covered with the knowledge of God and to the resounding marvel of a world filled with saints. If either one is the case, we ought to see the plot development throughout the story, all the way from the beginning. So what do we see?

We see God placing man on earth and telling them to make the whole thing a garden. We see Yeshua entering into a promised land filled with giants and a command to take it all. We see promises that the Israel of God will be as numerous as beach sand and spangled stars. We see Jesus telling his disciples that the gates of Hell cannot and will not prevail against the church’s onslaught. We see Jesus commissioning his disciples to teach and baptize all the nations, after reminding them he controls everything. We see Yeshua with his happy band of Twelve standing on the Jordan of a new Promised Land, the whole earth, filled with disarmed enemies and a command to take it all. We have a Savior telling us to pray that the Kingdom of God will come to earth. We see Satan bound from being able to deceive the nations, and a promise that Jesus must reign over his enemies until such a time as they have been made into an ottoman. This, I believe, is the picture on the box which should dictate where and how we place the pieces. This is the postmil paradigm. Amils have theirs. Premils have theirs. I happen to think the postmil paradigm sees the Biblical story for what it is meant to be.

So I would like to move into an offensive position and ask some pointed questions about the amillennial view. If you will be patient, I’d like to candidly lay out some of the beefs I have with amillennialism. If you sense some frustration with it, it is not because I think it is bad or wrong; it is because I don’t understand it. And I don’t understand it despite concerted efforts to try and do so. I am like a three year old who can’t find the ‘on’ button to the amil toy, and so I bang it against the coffee table, inciting it. “What is this thing? What is it supposed to do? How does it work?” Like I mentioned above, it is like a sumo match where your opponent has no mawashi to grab onto. Conversely, there is plenty of loose cloth hanging around the pre and postmil loincloth positions the amil can grab and throw its hip into. 

Let me start with a misappropriation, which I’m told is okay to do if it’s on purpose 😉

“Amillennial”, as its adherents have mentioned, is crappily named. The “a” is a negation from which we get a translation of “no millennium”, which, as you know, is untrue. The amil belief is that the millennium is very real and is currently humming along, but in heaven, where Jesus is reigning with those Christians who have died. But if I can misappropriate the meaning of the Greek negation a bit to make a point, it feels like the “A” in amillennial stands for a position of negation. Not negative in the sense of badness, but negative in the sense that it is defined by what it is not. Where pre and post mil posit stipulations and manifestations of the Kingdom, amil seems to be something of a spoil sport, pointing out why the other positions are wrong, but positing no positive position of its own. It tells the premils to take a chill pill, and the postmils not to get his hopes up, dousing both with the favorite amil bumper sticker, “I just don’t think the text supports it.” Amil is the sensible pair of shoes; it is the dentist with a house in the suburbs; it is safe. It seems like a default position.

Now, none of this means that it is untrue of course; that was no argument that one should or should not believe it. It is only my elementary fumbling with trying to make it work. Please help me find the on button.

There also seems to be an arithmetic problem with amil, and I believe premil shares this problem. It is simply that these positions tell us to add to our number and multiply through discipleship, but simultaneously holding out a glass ceiling to the sum. It is like a teacher instructing a class that continually adding one plus one will add up to a bigger and bigger number. When the class asks the most reasonable question of what happens when we add our way up to one-hundred, the teacher responds, “Oh, don’t be silly, we will never reach one-hundred.” The class looks squinty-eyed at the teacher wondering what mystical rule the teacher knows where the sum will never reach one hundred when the math seems to work just fine. Of course, this is where we reach the amil presupposition, that being the tares and the wheat going halvsies on the field of the world.

Lastly, I need help understanding what it means for Christ to reign spiritually, and what relationship his reign has to the earth we currently occupy. What are the observational consequences of Christ reigning right now in heaven and on earth? 

More succinctly, here are the questions I would love an answer to from an amil perspective:

Is it possible that we are still in the infancy of the church?
What does it mean that Jesus has all authority on earth?
Is Jesus reigning on earth right now, including over his enemies?
What does it mean that Jesus’s reign is spiritual? (Sam Storms uses this phrase, which is why I am using it)
Would an amillennial perspective lead a congregation to involve itself in the business, politics, education, and art scene of a city? 
Would an amillennial perspective also have the hope that the efforts of the above will be successful?
What does it mean when Jesus told us to pray that his kingdom come? If he grants the request, what might this look like?
Jesus said he is the Savior of the world (John 3:17). What does he mean by ‘Savior’ and what does he mean by ‘world’?
If we wake up tomorrow and magically amillennials hold a 54 seat majority in the Senate, a majority in the House, a SCOTUS majority, and Sam Storms is POTUS, would they make or eliminate laws based on what Jesus likes and dislikes?
Would you wear a t-shirt that says, “JESUS IS THE BOSS OF YOU”?

Thank you for tolerating my insolence; it is the insolence of a toddler. I am hoping to get a better understanding of the amil view here so I can have a better grasp and make our conversation more fruitful. 

Thanks and much love,

  Tim

PS. Verboten Brewery has been unbothered by eschatological conversation for several months. We should amend that. 

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