Stars in the Sky, Sand on the Seashore and Psalm 2

Stars in the Sky, Sand on the Seashore and Psalm 2

Dec 20, 2022 | Eschatology, Theology

What if we are in the early church? Such a question would have appeared absurd to me not too long ago, but no longer. I’m now inclined to answer in the affirmative. As I no longer believe we’re necessarily in the “end times” (i.e., Jesus coming back any day), I now have a longer time horizon on things. The reason is because I think He’s only just beginning to build His church to populate His redeemed new heavens and earth (Rom. 8:18-22). That’s kind of a mind bender, isn’t it.

Psalm 2 speaks to Christ’s Messianic reign among the nations, the peoples, the kings of the earth, and the rulers. They rage, but the Lord assures us they plot in vain, thinking they can break the chains and shackles of the Lord and his anointed. History is littered with the futility of such mortal hubris. The one enthroned laughs and scoffs at them. Why?

7 I will proclaim the Lord’s decree:

He said to me, “You are my son;
today I have become your father.

8 Ask me,
and I will make the nations your inheritance,
the ends of the earth your possession.

9 You will break them with a rod of iron;
you will dash them to pieces like pottery.”

And when the Son asks, the Father gives.

Since I became a Christian over 4 decades ago, I’ve always believed Christianity is a minority report. It started out with a small band of peasants in an outpost in the Roman Empire, and against all odds became a worldwide religion and transformed the world. Yet, even in ostensibly Christian nations, Christians were not necessarily the majority of the populations. And while there may be upwards of two billion people today who call upon the name of Jesus, the population of the world is upwards of eight billion. But what if we’re just in the first inning of what turns out to be an overtime game?

Until recently I interpreted these words of Jesus to mean in the end few would be saved:

13 “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. 14 But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.

That seemed to fit my experience, so it must mean few will be saved in the end. Well, maybe not.

A critical biblical hermeneutical principle is that the Bible was written in a specific historical context, and it’s primary meaning must be taken from that context. Until recently, I took these words of Jesus completely out of their historical context (not good) as if they applied to all times. I’m now convinced they absolutely do not. They were spoken by Jesus to Jews in first century Palestine, of whom John said in the first chapter of his gospel, “He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him.” By taking the words out of their proper context we end up distorting their meaning. In addition, it is critical that we do not take our experience, what seems to be the case from our perspective, as the interpretive framework for Scripture. That is also not good.

Yes, Jesus’ words could have some spiritual meaning for fallen humanity and how easy it is to give in to sinful human nature, and how hard it can be to fight against it, but that was not what Jesus was saying. He was not saying this about all fallen humanity for all of history, and that only a very few would ultimately be saved from their sin and reconciled to God in Christ. Yet that’s what I believed! Why?

The answer is simple: I was living by sight and not by faith.

Which brings me to God’s promises to Abraham in Genesis 12, 15, and 17 respectively:

* I will make you into a great nation . . . . and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.

* He took him outside and said, “Look up at the sky and count the stars—if indeed you can count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring be.”

* 5 No longer will you be called Abram; your name will be Abraham, for I have made you a father of many nations. 6 I will make you very fruitful; I will make nations of you, and kings will come from you.

Keep in mind this was before Abraham and Sarah bore Isaac. Then when Isaac was a teenager, the Lord told him to sacrifice his son, and when he was willing to do that the Lord doubled up on the promise (Gen. 17):

15 The angel of the Lord called to Abraham from heaven a second time 16 and said, “I swear by myself, declares the Lord, that because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, 17 I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore. Your descendants will take possession of the cities of their enemies, 18 and through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed, because you have obeyed me.”

Even before my recent eschatological transformation, I felt a cognitive dissonance between Jesus’ words in Matthew 7, and these promises to the first Patriarch. Over the years I’ve come to believe God’s mercy and grace is far more capacious than I had originally thought, but I didn’t have the theological justification for that intuition. Now I do. It is impossible to lay out my argument in a short blog post, but I’m convinced Psalm 2 give us that justification in light of the rest of the redemptive history we find in our Bibles, including:

  • The Lord’s prayer
  • Kingdom language throughout the gospels
  • The Great Commission
  • Paul’s declaration of Christ’s authority over all things in Ephesians 1
  • Quotations from Psalm 2 and 110 in the New Testament, among others

In Ephesians 1, Paul says, “God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church.” The coming of God’s kingdom, the Kingdom of heaven, it’s blessings of righteousness and peace, are for the purpose of Christ populating his church and his eventual reconciled universe.

Looking back at Psalm 2, it’s clear the devil doesn’t stand a chance. It’s now unimaginable for me to believe Almighty God would allow the majority of those creatures created in his image to end up eternally separated from him. The metaphors of stars in the sky and sand on the seashore were not throwaway lines by Yahweh. Think about this imagined conversation between them:

“You do get what I’m saying, Abram, right? It will be lots and lots of people, kinda like sand on the seashore and stars in the sky. But of course, I’m just using language metaphorically, so you get the idea. I certainly don’t mean that many people.”

Well, maybe Yahweh didn’t literally mean every single grain of sand and every celestial ball of light, but it is way, way more than I thought when I misinterpreted the Matthew 7 passage. And we know now that Abraham had no idea just how many stars in the sky there really were, but the Creator God sure did.

I’ll end this post with a quote from Revelation 7. John is told by an angel about the 144,000 sealed by the living God, 12,000 from each of the tribes of Israel. I see those numbers as symbolic for the stars in the sky, and the sand on the seashore, the uncountable great multitude:

9 After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. 10 And they cried out in a loud voice:

“Salvation belongs to our God,
who sits on the throne,
and to the Lamb.”

11 All the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, 12 saying:

“Amen!
Praise and glory
and wisdom and thanks and honor
and power and strength
be to our God for ever and ever.
Amen!”

 

What Does Psalm 2 Really Tell Us?

What Does Psalm 2 Really Tell Us?

Dec 16, 2022 | Theology

In my previous post I argued that Christians tend to over spiritualize Psalm 2 by thinking it only describes a future spiritual reality when Christ returns in judgement. Evangelical Christians, of which I am one, tend to over spiritualize everything. Because of this tendency, I looked at Psalm 2 this way until only recently.

Since I became a Christian, I’ve believed that Christ is seated at the right hand of God the Father Almighty, ruling and reigning over the universe. That, however, tended to be an abstraction to me because of the horror show of so much history, not to mention current events. Psalm 2 as I saw it tells of a future time when the nations would become Christ’s inheritance. For now, it appeared that the world is the devil’s playground, and if most Christians are honest, they feel the devil is on offense and indeed winning. Shame on us for thinking such a thing.

We shouldn’t think this because it’s not biblical, whether we’re thinking about the past, present, or future. What I’m arguing is not my opinion, but the blatant text of Scripture. As I’ve come to this perspective on things I’ve come to realize the devil and his designs are getting crushed, slowly but surely, as he has been since Christ rose from the dead and was seated at the right hand of the Father Almighty. We see this reality prophesied by David in Psalm 2.

We’ll notice the Psalm doesn’t indicate David wrote it as do his other Psalms, but Peter in Acts 4 tells us he is the author. I encourage you to read this passage in Acts in light of the whole Psalm. Peter says what God, the “sovereign Lord” did with “his holy servant Jesus,” whom the Lord anointed (made king) “had decided beforehand should happen” according to God’s “power and will.” Do we really think God set all that up, made it all happen exactly like he wanted it to, only then when Christ rose and joined him on his throne to just be a spectator? To Let the devil win?

Of course not! You’ll yell at me. Look how Jesus is building his church, you’ll exclaim. His gospel is going forth to the ends of the earth. So, Jesus is indeed the conqueror. But, and here’s the rub: most Christians mean this regarding the salvation of individual souls, not the coming of God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. This is the over spiritualizing tendency of most Christians I referred to, and how they view Christ’s sovereign reign and rule “far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked.” It’s all about the salvation of individual souls, while the world goes to hell in a handbasket.

Notice, however, the word “all” in Paul’s declaration of Christ’s sovereign rule, and he adds, “in the present age” as well in the one to come. That means now! Over presidents, kings, prime ministers, governors, mayors, city council members, legislators, unelected bureaucratic bodies, deep state security apparatus, militaries and their generals, corporations, schools, families, and anything else you can name. I’ve discovered when Paul uses the word “all” he generally means all. I know every Christian will say they agree with this, but that’s an abstraction to most of them, as it used to be with me. With all the evil done by “rulers” it sure seemed Christ wasn’t ruling, but that was me living by sight and not by faith. An example of this overspiritualizing is the church we go to.

The pastor and elders don’t see things quite like I do, and this often comes out in sermons. One Sunday, the pastor was talking about God reconciling sinners to himself, and he said something like, if we’re focused on “the culture wars” (a favorite bogeyman), and not salvation (as if they were mutually exclusive goals), “we’re just rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.” So in this telling, culture (i.e., human beings living in community) is not only irrelevant to the Christian’s spiritual endeavor in God’s created reality, but no matter what we do, it’s a sinking ship! Unfortunately, that’s the default perspective for most Christians about in what appears to them as the “end times.”

We are indeed living in the “end times” since Christ rose from the dead and ascended to heaven to advance his kingdom on earth and build his church. Both are inevitable and cannot be defeated, as we see clearly in Psalm 2, the fulfillment of which we read about in our New Testament and see throughout history. Reading the Psalm it describes a present tense reality, as if the entire dynamic portrayed about the nations is happening at this very moment. The reign of the Lord’s anointed isn’t for some time in the future, but is now when “the nations rage,” when “the people’s plot in vain,” when “the rulers band together against the Lord and his anointed.”

The concept of anointing (mashiach in Hebrew, Messiah) was what the Lord did to appoint his chosen kings of Israel. The king was the anointed one, the Messiah of God. This man is chosen and consecrated, made sacred (holy in biblical terms, set apart) in a ceremony that includes the token applying of oil. He  was now God’s regent leading his people, his representative to work his will among God’s people on earth. Saul was Israel’s first Messiah, but he failed, and was replaced by King David, a man after God’s own heart. Jesus then came in David’s line to bring God’s kingdom to earth, the ultimate fulfillment of which will come at the end of time when Christ returns and all of creation is reconciled to him in ultimate victory over sin, corruption, and death.

The question we’re confronted with is what is happening now between Christ’s ascension to the right hand of the Father, and his second coming and the consummation of all things. In my next post I’m going to look at Psalm 2 in light of Christ building his church.

Psalm 2 Is Happening Now!

Psalm 2 Is Happening Now!

Dec 13, 2022 | Eschatology, Theology

I’ve made it to Psalms in my reading, and I’m amazed how much my perspective on Psalm 2 has changed. I always assumed it was talking about the future when Christ returned, and only then would God the Father make the nations Jesus’ inheritance, and the ends of the earth his possession, only then would he break them with a rod of iron and dash them to pieces like pottery (v. 8, 9). Because, you know, look around the world, or in history, and it doesn’t exactly look like Jesus is reigning, does it? Or is he?

It’s fascinating talking to Christians about current affairs and the state of the world. Inevitably all lament to one degree or another how horrible things are. Many are convinced Jesus is coming back soon. I heard Eric Metaxas recently say because of technology never before available, the mark of the Beast could actually happen now; he believes it will. Almost everyone believes we live in “the end times.” Because, that’s how it’s supposed to work, right? Things go straight to hell, they get really horrible, suffering and misery unmatched since the world began, and then bamo! Jesus returns like Batman to save the day. Or something like that.

I enjoy countering such pessimism with a bit of a different perspective on things. I might ask; I wonder what Christians in Europe were thinking in the late 1340s. It was kind of a tough time given they had to endure something called the Black Death, the bubonic plague. To get a sense of the damage:

Best estimates now are that at least 25 million people died in Europe from 1347 to 1352. This was almost 40% of the population (some estimates indicate 60%). Half of Paris’s population of 100,000 people died. In Italy, Florence’s population was reduced from 120,000 inhabitants in 1338 to 50,000 in 1351. The plague was a disaster practically unequalled in the annals of recorded history and it took 150 years for Europe’s population to recover.

Rush Limbaugh used to say most people think history started when they were born, and historical amnesia in our culture is at pandemic levels. What do you think those living in Europe at the time of the plague might have thought about the second coming? The phrase, “Bring out your dead,” would have been a common refrain in the streets. The level of suffering is staggering and impossible to conceive. Life was hard enough in the Middle Ages without the Black Death.

Dickens started A Tale of Two Cities with, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” and everyone seems to agree ours is most definitely “the worst of times.” I’m kinda thinking Europeans living in 1350 might disagree. By any measure we live in the best of times, and it isn’t even debatable. I could multiply historical examples like this, if not to this degree of suffering, to make the same point. Why all the gloom and doom at this point in history? Historical amnesia is one reason, certainly, but faulty theology is another. Which brings me to Psalm 2.

When I’m talking to my Negative Nellie Christian friends, I bring up Psalm 2 and ask them if they’ve ever considered it in light of current events. Then I’ll say something like, you do know at this very moment Jesus is sitting at the right hand of the Father “far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come,” right? You do know right now Jesus is reigning, ruling, at this very moment, “until he has put all his enemies under his feet,” right? These are not theoretical theological points or Scriptural speculation; this is orthodox Christian doctrine since Pentecost. Yet it seems most Christians miss this part as their assessing the horribleness in which we live. They ought not do that.

There are many other Old Testament passages that make the point, but Psalm 2 is especially powerful. Our tendency, and not too long ago I was guilty of the same thing, is to see events happening in some way apart from God’s providence. Oh sure, I knew and believed God is the sovereign Lord over all things, and in fact in control of all things, but my emotional reaction to things sure didn’t reflect that. And what I believed about the “end times” effectively compelled me to pessimism. My eschatology, my understanding of the “end times” was basically what I described above, things get worse and worse, and eventually so bad Jesus has to come back to save the day. Which is why I so horribly misinterpreted Psalm 2.

Properly understanding Psalm 2 is too important to grapple with in a paragraph or two, so I’ll focus on the Psalm itself in the next post, but I will make a salient point about the Black Death.

If we look at the Great Commission Jesus gave his disciples, he affirms his authority over all things “in heaven and on earth,” which is the fulfillment of what we read about in Psalm 2. He then tells them, “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations . . .” I always assumed “nations” really meant individuals, and while it clearly does in light of the rest of the New Testament, the word Jesus uses doesn’t mean individuals. The Greek word Matthew uses (remember Jesus and his disciples spoke Aramaic, a form of Hebrew) for nations is ἔθνος-ethnos; properly, people joined by practicing similar customs or common culture; nation(s). Now read Psalm 2 in light of the Great Commission, and the bigger picture emerges.

Could Christians in Europe in the 1350s imagine the gospel going to the literal ends of the earth as it has in our day? A hundred years ago the African continent was heathen, and today it is primarily Christian. Whatever the numbers, by all accounts Christianity is exploding in China, as it is in South America. Even where Christianity is a minority religion or persecuted it grows and prospers. The nations are being discipled, God’s kingdom is advancing, and Christ’s church is growing, against which the gates of hell shall not prevail. There is much disagreement among Christians as to what exactly this discipling of the nations will look like in practice, but it is happening. Psalm 2 tells us why.

 

Uninvented: Job and the Nature of God

Uninvented: Job and the Nature of God

Dec 1, 2022 | Theology

Reading through the book of Job, I’ve been trying to think through it from an uninvented perspective. I’ve realized it would be difficult to see it as merely a figment of human imagination, as if some ancient screenwriter was preparing a script on suffering for a Netflix TV series. Who knows how it actually played out, but the realness lies in the antagonists thinking they get God and why he does what he does; we know, the ending doesn’t let them do that.

Sinful human beings have a nasty habit of thinking they can comprehend God, who by definition is incomprehensible. However, since we are made in God’s image and made to know him, we can have some, although not exhaustive, knowledge of God. We don’t have exhaustive knowledge of anything, even ourselves! If we’re honest, we’re willing to admit we’re often a mystery to ourselves. It’s interesting, then, when reading Job to see how each of the characters seems unwilling to admit there is any mystery in what is happening to Job. Although to Job his suffering is a mystery because he “was blameless and upright; he feared God and shunned evil.”

Theology isn’t an option in the Christian life, but I wasn’t even introduced to the concept until I’d been a Christian for over six years. Until then, I was under the impression it was just me, the Bible, and the Holy Spirit. I don’t deny the Holy Spirit is intimately involved with helping us understand Scripture, only we’re never called to bypass our brain. I seemed to think there was a wire in my brain going up to heaven, and when God wanted me to understand something, zap! That’s not the best hermeneutical principle.

Why is theology important? It is the study (ology) of God (theos in Greek), so yeah, it’s important. And Paul in Ephesians 1 prays

17 that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, 18 having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints.

The two requirements for us to grow in our knowledge of God is work and effort, and God revealing truth about himself to us by the power of the Holy Spirit. In other words, it’s more than just reading the Bible; it’s studying the Bible, studying God in the revelation of himself to us in his word. Paul is telling us without the Christian concept of revelation, we would be as benighted as Job and his friends, his “miserable comforters.”

This includes having some idea of the principles of biblical hermeneutics, of how texts ought to be interpreted. I hadn’t even heard that word, let alone knew what it meant, until I had been Christian for more than six years. I learned the text of the Bible wasn’t magic, but it had a specific meaning the author intended when he wrote it. That’s called, not surprisingly, authorial intent. We must ask what the author intended his audience to understand when he wrote. Which further means the context is critical to understanding the text. Which even further means the Bible wasn’t written to me! It was written for me, but not to me, big difference.

All of this requires study outside the Bible itself. We’ll get a lot of this every Sunday in church if the pastor is doing his job, and in my 44 years as a Christian I’ve found that always to be the case. It’s why they go to seminary. But that doesn’t let us off the hook. We must read more than the Bible. A study Bible is helpful, as are the innumerable commentaries and books on the Bible, as well as the inexhaustible sources on the Internet. It’s amazing how alive the text and the stories in Scripture become when we know more about the author and the historical context. Most amazing of all is the ultimate biblical hermeneutical principle that Jesus gave us: the entire Bible is about him!

When I was introduced to theology at 24, I began with reading the Systematic Theology of Charles Hodge, the great 19th century Princeton Theologian. It blew my mind. In a chapter on the knowledge of God Hodge writes that God is inconceivable, incomprehensible, and that our knowledge of him can only be partial, but he argues it is real knowledge. The problem is when we think our knowledge of God means we can understand him, why and how he does what he does. The reason Jesus taught us to pray, “Thy will be done . . .” is because we don’t, and we can’t! The book of Job makes that very clear. This problem of thinking we can figure out God’s thoughts and motives is endemic to the human condition, and both Christians and non-Christians are afflicted by it.

If we give it a moment’s thought, we’ll realize our pretension of thinking we can probe the depths of God’s being and mind is ridiculous. It’s stunning if we really ruminate upon it, how totally and completely inconceivable and incomprehensible God is. For example, he created everything out of nothing by the power of his word, “and God said, ‘Let there be . . . .’” Try to wrap your mind around that. God is also omnipresent, everywhere at once. He is also omniscient, meaning he knows all things. And omnipotent, meaning he possesses all power. Think of the devastating power of splitting the atom, and he made every single one! He is also aware and intimately involved in the lives of every single human being on earth, at the same moment.

I could go on, but you get the point. All we can do is fall down in praise and adoration of a being so great, and proclaim in doxology with King David,

Yours, Lord, is the greatness and the power
and the glory and the majesty and the splendor,
for everything in heaven and earth is yours.
Yours, Lord, is the kingdom;
you are exalted as head over all.

Now, our God, we give you thanks,
and praise your glorious name.

Calvinism and the Inevitable Non Sequitur

Calvinism and the Inevitable Non Sequitur

Nov 13, 2022 | Theology

I would wager that almost everyone coming across this lonely old blog post out on my very tiny corner of the windswept desolation of the Internet has some idea of what Calvinism is. Whether they are right or not is the topic I seek to address. Of course, being right isn’t everything, but it ain’t nothin’. As for non sequiturs, few have ever heard of it, let alone know what it means. The reason is the woeful state of education in America. Classes in formal logic are rare, and as a public-school kid, I certainly never learned it. The term is a basic logical fallacy, and the first two Brave search results were:

  1. An inference or conclusion that does not follow from the premises or evidence.
  2. A statement that does not follow logically from what preceded it.

The phrase is a Latin term for “nonsequential,” or literally “does not sequentially follow.” It is a fallacy committed when a conclusion does not follow logically from its given premise. Thus a non sequitur entails reasonings or premises that are irrelevant to a conclusion.

All sinners are given to logical fallacies, which would include all of us. They come naturally like sin itself, often knee-jerk reactions and thoughtlessly easy. Non sequiturs are especially easy and common fallacies. What have they to do with Calvinism, you may ask. Good question.

When I was first introduced to the theology of John Calvin, the great 16th century Reformer, at the tender age of 24, I instantly went into non sequitur overdrive, knee-jerk like. My first reaction was that if God choose me and I had nothing to do with it, then my choosing didn’t matter. I was, it seemed, no more than a robot. Why would I think such a thing? Well, because I instinctively assumed God’s choosing made my choosing irrelevant. Sure, it seemed like I chose, but if it wasn’t only my choice, then it wasn’t really a choice. Who says? I don’t know. I just . . . . assumed it. That is a non-sequitur.

Or take the gospel. We are saved by unmerited grace apart from the works of the law. All Christians believe that, Christianity 101, right? Yet, the Apostle Paul had to deal with gospel non sequiturs. Both Jews and pagans had a difficult time believing what we did had absolutely and completely nothing to do with our justification and acceptance by God. Paul directly addresses the non sequitur in Romans 6:

What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? 2 By no means! We are those who have died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?

In other words, it doesn’t follow, logically, that because we’re saved by grace (and not in obedience to the law) that we can do whatever the hell we want. No! And Paul gives the very logical reasons why.

The biblical and other examples of this logical fallacy are manifold and common. Once you understand what it is, you become aware of how common it is, like when you’re shopping for a new car and decide on a model, suddenly you see them everywhere.

This sinful human tendency is especially common when it comes to Calvinism. The reason is because of the Calvinist focus on God’s sovereign grace. I remember listening to a lecture by the late great R.C. Sproul, and he said all Christians believe God is sovereign, except when it comes to his grace. Early on in my Reformed (a synonym for Calvinism) journey I realized how illogical this was. When Moses asks Yahweh to show him his glory, he doesn’t get fireworks, but instead the Lord replies:

“I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the LORD, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion.”

The glory of this God in whom we believe, his very essence, is to grant his sovereign kingly pardon to whomever he pleases. Full stop. It has absolutely nothing to do with the person being pardoned, a la the thief on the cross. Unlike an earthly king, however, our heavenly king then raises us spiritually from the dead (those born-again have as much say in their spiritual birth as any baby has in their physical birth), and transforms our heart of spiritual stone, to a heart of flesh.

When Calvinists assert this is all of God, completely and totally monergistic, our natural non sequitur response is, what about me? Don’t I have to do something? I mean, I have to believe, right? Of course we do, but does it follow that because we do believe, we have to power to do that? This would be a classic non sequitur, and one Calvinists are faced with all the time. Dead people don’t have the power to do anything. The blind don’t have the power to make themselves see, the deaf to hear, the lame to walk, or the dead come back to life. Jesus’ healing ministry is a spiritual metaphor for our spiritual helplessness and dependence on him for the double cure for sin.

The most prevalent non-sequitur is determinism: If God is sovereign and in control off all things, then human freedom is an illusion, we can’t be accountable, and we are no more than robots. This, however, isn’t Calvinism. The testimony of Scripture from beginning to end portrays God as sovereign and in control of all things, and man as free to choose. These are not mutually exclusive, nor do they contradict one another. How does this work? Who knows. If God and his ways were comprehensible to us, he wouldn’t be God. And most critics of Calvin and Calvinism have never actually read his works. There is nothing deterministic in them, but rather the thoughts of a man with an incredible heart for God and love for his people.

How Donald Trump Turned Me into a Postmillennialist!

How Donald Trump Turned Me into a Postmillennialist!

Nov 6, 2022 | Theology

The very last thing I expected when Donald Trump came down the escalator to announce his run for the presidency on June 16, 2015, was the red pill I unknowingly swallowed that would eventually lead me to embracing postmillennialism. In case you don’t know what postmillennialism (PM) is, don’t feel bad. Until a few months ago I didn’t either, but the massive paradigm shifts I’ve undergone in the last seven years have brought much that was unexpected, not least to my eschatology.

Up to late summer I had no clue my understanding of “the end times” would be another unexpected revelation. I’m writing a book about these last seven years and the many revelations I’ve experience, which is thrilling because I’m not really sure where it will end up. I didn’t realize how our theology of “end times” determines how we interpret everything about the times in which we live, whether negatively or positively.

I’ve posted two videos below about PM, and I encourage you to watch/listen as an introduction to the topic. If you don’t agree with this eschatological position, at least you’ll have some knowledge of what you don’t agree with. That’s more than I can say when I was on that side of things. Before I get there, I’ll explain, briefly, why I rejected PM out of hand while knowing absolutely nothing about it, and how my mind became open. Once opened, I discovered it makes perfect biblical sense.

I rejected PM because I thought it was embraced by 19th and early 20th century Christians because of cultural conditioning of the Western concept of “progress.” The hubris that came out of Enlightenment rationalism and the explosion of scientific knowledge led people to assume progress as linear, like an arrow shot to ever more wonderful human accomplishment. I thought Christians uncritically bought into this as their eschatology. This included my theological heroes, the great Princeton theologians Charles Hodge and B.B. Warfield. Apparently they were great in all things theological, except when it came to eschatology.

For most of my Christian life I was a “pan-millennialist”; it will all pan out in the end. It seemed like trying to understand “end times” was endless speculation and trying to figure it all out was a fool’s errand. Then in 2014 I discovered amillennialism through a teaching series by Dr. Kim Riddlebarger.  It blew my mind, and I decided it was an eschatological position I could embrace. Until a few months ago. I’ll share very briefly why, and suggest you watch/listen to these to videos so you can see why I’ve embraced PM, and see if you want to as well.

This is where Donald Trump comes in. In addition to being an uncouth billionaire New Yorker who rubs a lot of people the wrong way, his policies were a threat to both political parties, or the Uniparty. Everyone, including me, thought his candidacy was a joke, until it wasn’t. Then TDS really kicked in. I had it initially, but his critics were so over the top I thought, nobody can be that bad. Then there was three years of Trump-Russia “collusion,” and then covid, stolen election, and the cherry on the top was the J6 “insurrection.”

You would think all this would all depress me given I’d become full on MAGA, even “Ultra Maga,” and I was, but then I found Steve Bannon’s War Room, and became one of the Posse. I can’t explain it all here, but he turned me into an optimist with his affirmation of human agency (we can change things), especially in the context of the United States of America. That leads to his now famous rallying cry, action, action, action!

Earlier this year I decided to write a book of hope based on all these revelations I’d been going through since Trump, and realized I needed theological justification for my optimism. Initially, I thought it lay in the revelation of God in creation a la Paul in Romans 1:20, that “God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made . . . .” In other words, God’s revelation in creation, and human knowledge is part of his creation. We now know things we wouldn’t have known before Trump, or before Einstein, or before America’s Founding, or before Newton, Luther, Aquinas, you get the picture. All this knowledge is in some way a revelation of God’s “eternal power and divine nature.”

I still believe this, but when PM came along, I sensed it might be the answer I was looking for. Then in a conversation about PM in a YouTube video, Doug Wilson said, “Now you have a theological justification for optimism.” That’s it! The feeling at that moment reminded me of A Charlie Brown Christmas When Charlie goes to Lucy for “Psychiatric Help” so he can find out why he’s so depressed. She thinks it might be fear, so goes through various phobias. Finally, she asks about a phobia that means fear of everything, and Charlie yells out, “That’s it!” And Lucy flips backward cartoon like several times. I felt like Charlie. It was thrilling.

You’ll have to learn more about PM yourself to understand why I felt and still feel this way. Here are the promised videos:

James White went through a similar journey to me, from Pan-Mill, to A-Mill, to PM.

This is a documentary of various interviews. The host when through the same journey.