Postmillennialism is Paramount

Where you think you're going determines how you get there

Cologne Cathedral, Germany (constructed: 1248-1880)

Eschatology matters. But I didn’t always think so.

I grew up in a church pastored by Dallas Seminary grads (in other words, I was a dispensational premillennialist, and of the pre-tribulational variety). I was very pessimistic about the world in the 90’s and early 2000’s. The world was descending into hell, and I couldn’t wait for the rapture to take me out before things got really bad. In fact, I remember sitting in my 4th grade classroom and, upon hearing about the planes crashing into the twin towers, vocalizing to myself, “Oh no,” thinking that I had been left behind.

In high school I was introduced to reformed theology via Paul Washer, John Piper, Mark Driscoll, etc. My dispensationalism began to erode, but I was still pessimistic. By the time I had earned a bachelor of biblical studies degree I was firmly amillennial (Jesus is currently reigning), but still pessimistic. Tertullian’s famous adage was my M.O. for the church’s mission: “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.” I was convinced that suffering like Christ would be the dominant vehicle by which the church would evangelize the world. I was obsessed with “cruciformity.”

Then about four years ago I had a beer with a friend. He had come from a similar eschatological heritage and completed his undergraduate studies at Bethlehem College and Seminary. During his time there he became acquainted with Doug Wilson (that “troubler of Israel”), and became convinced of the postmillennial framework. After Bethlehem he moved to Moscow and enrolled in a graduate program at New St. Andrews (founded by Wilson). I took a trip up north to visit my friend, and we found ourselves on either side of the table at a local pub one evening discussing eschatology. We debated for a couple of hours, and at the end I was convinced of my amillennialism. Yet he had planted a seed that I couldn’t unplant. It’s called preterism.

Preterism

preterism: from the latin praeter meaning “past” or “beyond”

If you’re unfamiliar, preterism is the hermeneutic which understands the vast majority of New Testament prophecy to have already been fulfilled, from Jesus’ Olivet Discourse (Matt. 24-25) to Paul’s Day of the Lord (1 Thess. 5:1-11) to Peter’s heavens melting (2 Pet. 3:11-13) to John’s great tribulation (Rev. 7:14) and the judgement of “Babylon” (Rev. 19:1-5). Pretty much everything except for the bodily return of Christ and the general resurrection of the dead. What many readers of these and other passages understand as having to do with the end of the world are, according to preterism, actually concerning God’s judgement upon the rebellious nation of Israel culminating in the destruction of the temple in AD 70. In other words, these and like passages are not about the end of the world, but about the end of the world as it once was, i.e., as it existed under the administration of the Old Covenant. For forty years after Christ’s ascension there was an “inter-covenantal period,” if you will, in which the Lord patiently allowed his church to undergo great persecution from the Jews both in Jerusalem and throughout the Roman Empire (read the book of Acts). But as Jesus prophesied, God’s judgement would fall upon the generation that crucified him due to their refusal to repent and believe in God’s son (Matt. 21:33-43; cf. 24:34).

The biblical phrase for this Jerusalem judgement in AD 70 is the same as it was for Jerusalem’s judgement in the 6th century BC: the day of the Lord (Amos 5:18-20). In fact, the scriptures often speak of God’s judgement as “the day of the Lord” regardless of who the object of judgement is, whether Babylon (Isa. 13:6-9) or Egypt (Jer. 46:10, 25). So when the New Testament talks about the day of the Lord, it almost always has the imminent destruction of Jerusalem in view, not the final return of Christ. Even the language about “the coming of the Son of Man” is understood as his coming in judgement on Jerusalem, not his bodily coming and the resurrection of the dead.

After leaving Moscow, despite my entrenchment in my amillennial framework, I tried on the preterist hermeneutic for a few months. And as I read the New Testament with these lenses I quickly discovered two things: 1) the New Testament is more coherent with this hermeneutic, and 2) the New Testament is more optimistic about the church in history than I previously dared to believe.

This is not the place for convincing you of the coherency of the preterist hermeneutic. For that, you can read Sproul or Gentry. But I would like to accentuate the optimism that grows out of a preterist hermeneutic.

Preterism > Optimism > Postmillennialism

As I began to realize that the doom and gloom of the New Testament is actually directed toward 1st century Jews who rejected God’s Messiah, I found that the Old Testament became a lot more relevant. Why? Because previously I would read the numerous Old Testament promises of God’s victory and blessing in and through his people as being 1) mainly spiritual in nature, and 2) inasmuch as they are material, to be realized on earth only after Christ’s return. For example, Isaiah tells us “Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end,” (9:7) and “the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea” (11:9). Similarly, Micah prophesies:

It shall come to pass in the latter days
    that the mountain of the house of the Lord
shall be established as the highest of the mountains,
    and it shall be lifted up above the hills;
and peoples shall flow to it,
    and many nations shall come, and say:
“Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
    to the house of the God of Jacob,
that he may teach us his ways
    and that we may walk in his paths.”
For out of Zion shall go forth the law,
    and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.
He shall judge between many peoples,
    and shall decide disputes for strong nations far away;
and they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
    and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
    neither shall they learn war anymore;
but they shall sit every man under his vine and under his fig tree,
    and no one shall make them afraid,
    for the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken.
For all the peoples walk
    each in the name of its god,
but we will walk in the name of the Lord our God
    forever and ever.

Micah 4:1-5

I used to take these passages as far off ideals that would be achieved only in the eschaton. Why? Because clearly they haven’t been fulfilled in history—it’s been two thousand years since Christ ascended to heaven! But now I remember that Jesus said his kingdom would grow slowly, like a little yeast leavening a lump of dough (Matt. 13:33). So rather than assuming these prophesies must be fulfilled in the eternal state because God has been slow to fulfill them in history, I trust in his promises and live like I believe them. Rather than reading the Scripture in the light of today’s headlines—which would make anyone pessimistic—I read the headlines in light of Scripture. God is not slow to fulfill his promises (2 Pet. 2:9); he’s simply fulfilling them at the pace he said he would.

Jesus taught his disciples to pray “your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” I used to pray this with the future in mind; now I pray it with the present in mind. And after praying, I begin to work like God will actually answer my prayer, knowing that in the Lord my labor is not in vain (1 Cor. 15:58).

This is the essence of postmillennialism. Jesus has ascended to his throne and he reigns over all creation. Though the creation is not fully subject to him, he rules from his throne until all his enemies become a footstool for his feet (Ps. 110:1; cf. 1 Cor. 15:25). As the Father promised, he will have the nations as his inheritance, and he will exercise absolute dominion over them (Ps. 2:8-9). The church’s mission today and throughout history is to be the vehicle through which Christ’s dominion increases. After all, we are the body of Christ, his very presence on earth (Eph. 1:22-23).

Eschatology Matters

I was never an eschatology evangelist. In both my pre- and amillennial days, I was relatively indifferent to the matter of the end times and the millennium. My general posture was that as long as Christians agreed that Jesus would return bodily, then well and good. And that’s true as far as orthodoxy goes.

But remaining inside the bounds of orthodoxy and subduing and having dominion over the earth are not the same thing. If you’re going to have dominion, you have to believe that it’s possible. Even more, that it is inevitable. This is why eschatology matters. If you thought God was going to destroy the earth, why would you want to improve it? If you thought Christ’s return was imminent, why would you invest 632 years into building a cathedral like the church did in Cologne? (Yes, I would contend that, until the last couple hundred years, the church held a postmillennial eschatology, even if it was not well-defined or articulated as such.) Why would you labor to leave a family legacy that lasts many generations? Why would you start a Christian school? Why would you seek to establish Christendom?

This is why I say postmillennialism is paramount. It’s not paramount to entering God’s kingdom. Simple faith in Jesus is enough for that. But it is paramount for those seeking to build the next Christendom. Hope is paramount. And postmillennialism is, more than anything else, an eschatology of hope.

Until next time,

Lance

p.s. Comments are open. I’d love to engage with your thoughts, questions, and pushbacks.