It is time now to look at the developments outside dispensationalism, particularly developments in "covenant theology," which has long been considered the principal rival to dispensationalism.
But even though historically covenant theology has been a rival, it is not necessarily an antithetical twin to classic dispensationalism. An alternative position may not always claim to have as many detailed and specific answers about prophetic interpretation as classic dispensationalism. Not all views of prophecy lend themselves equally well to precise calculations about fulfillment. Some prophetic language may be allusive or suggestive, rather than spelling out all its implications. Hence, we may sometimes have to take a long time to work out the details of how fulfillment takes place. Any genuine alternative position nevertheless still shares a firm conviction of the truth of the doctrines of evangelicalism: the inerrancy of the Bible, the deity of Christ, the virgin birth, the substitutionary atonement of Christ, the bodily resurrection of Christ, and so on.
In the previous chapters we asked those who were nondispensationalists to try to understand someone else's position. So now we may equally ask dispensationalists to try to understand. You may not agree, but understand that there is a real alternative here, and understand that it "makes sense" when viewed sympathetically "from inside," just as your system "makes sense" when viewed sympathetically "from inside."
We will not attempt to discuss covenant theology in depth, but confine our survey to some of the principal features.
Covenant theology had its origins in the Reformation, and was systematized by Herman Witsius and Johannes Cocceius. For our purposes, we may pass over the long history of origins and start with classic covenant theology, as represented by the Westminster Confession of Faith. Covenant theology organizes the history of the world in terms of covenants. It maintains that all God's relations to human beings are to be understood in terms of two covenants, the covenant of works made with Adam before the fall, and the covenant of grace made through Christ with all who are to believe. The covenant of grace was administered differently in the different dispensations (Westminster Confession 7.4), but is substantially the same in all.
Now covenant theology always allowed for a diversity of administration of the one covenant of grace. This accounted in large part for the diversity of different epochs in biblical history. But the emphasis was undeniably on the unity of one covenant of grace. By contrast, classic dispensationalism began with the diversity of God's administration in various epochs, and brought in only subordinately its affirmations of the unity of one way of salvation in Jesus Christ.
What has happened since? Covenant theologians have not simply stood still with the Westminster Confession. Geerhardus Vos ([1903] 1972; [1926] 1954; [1930] 1961; [1948] 1966) began a program of examining the progressive character of God's revelation, and the progressive character of God's redemptive action in history. This has issued in a whole movement of "biblical theology," emphasizing much more the discontinuities and advances not only between OT and NT but between successive epochs within the OT. Among its representatives we may mention Herman Ridderbos (1958; 1962; 1975), Richard B. Gaffin (1976; 1978; 1979), Meredith G. Kline (1963; 1972; 1980; 1981), and O. Palmer Robertson(1980). Within the discipline of biblical theology each particular divine covenant within the OT can be examined in its uniqueness, as well as in its connection to other covenants. Covenant theologians within this framework still believe in the unity of a single covenant of grace. But what does this amount to? The single "covenant of grace" is the proclamation, in varied forms, of the single way of salvation. Dispensationalists do not really disagree with this!
In addition, there have been movements on other fronts. Anthony A. Hoekema's book The Bible and the Future (1979) enlivens the area of eschatology by emphasizing the biblical promise of a new earth. He is an amillennialist, but by emphasizing the "earthy" character of the eternal state (the consummation), he produces a picture not too far distant from the premillennialist's millennium.
Finally, Willem Van Gemeren (1983; 1984) reflects about the special role of Israel on the basis of Romans 11 and OT prophecy. By allowing for a future purpose of God for ethnic Israel, he again touches on some of the concerns of dispensationalists.
Let us try to summarize the results of this work that will be most valuable for dispensationalists. First, there are distinct epochs or "dispensations" in the working out of God's plan for history. The epochs are organically related to one another, like the relation of seed to shoot to full-grown plant to fruit. There is both continuity between epochs (like one tree developing through all its stages), and discontinuity (the seed looks very different from the shoot, and the shoot very different from the fruit). Just how many epochs one distinguishes is not important. What is important is to be ready for an organic type of relationship.
For example, one should be alert to figurative "resurrections" in the Old Testament: Noah being saved through the flood (the water being a symbol of death, cf. Jonah 2:2-6), Isaac saved from death by the substitute of a ram, Moses saved as an infant from the water, the people of Israel saved at the passover and at the Red Sea, the restoration from Babylon as a kind of preliminary "resurrection" of Israel from the dead (Ezekiel 37). All these show some kind of continuity with the great act of redemption, the resurrection of Christ. But they also show discontinuity. Most of them are somehow figurative or "shadowy." Even a close parallel like that of Elijah raising a dead boy is not fully parallel. The boy returns to his earthly existence, and eventually will die again. Christ is alive forever in his resurrection body (1 Cor 15:46-49).
The discontinuity is very important. Before the actual appearing of Christ in the flesh, redemption must of necessity partake of a partial, shadowy, "inadequate" character, because it must point forward rather than locating any ultimate sufficiency in itself. Moreover, the particular way in which the resurrection motif is expressed always harmonizes with the particular stage of "growth" of the organically unfolding process. For instance, at the time of Noah, mankind still exists undifferentiated into nations. Appropriately, the "resurrection" of Noah's family manifests cosmic scope (2 Pet 3:5-7). At the time of Isaac, the promised offspring and heir of Abraham exists in one person. Appropriately, the sacrifice and "resurrection" involves this one as representative of the entire promise and its eventual fulfillment (cf. Gal 3:16). And so on with the rest of the instances. Each brings into prominence a particular aspect of the climactic work of Christ. It does so in a manner that just suits the particular epoch and particular circumstances in which the events occur.
The unity in this historical development is the unity inherent in God's work to restore and renew the human race and the cosmos. We know that the human race is a unity represented by Adam as head (Rom 5:12-21). When Adam fell, the whole human race was affected. The creation itself was subjected to futility (Rom 8:18-25). Redemption and recreation therefore also take place by way of a representative head, a new human head, namely the incarnate Christ (1 Cor 15:45-49). As there is one humanity united under Adam through the flesh, so there is one new humanity united under Christ through the Spirit. Just as the subhuman creation was affected by Adam's fall (Rom 8:20), so it is to be transformed by Christ's resurrection (Rom 8:21). Christ himself, as the head and representative of all those redeemed, is the unifying center of God's acts of redemption and recreation.
In particular, Christ's redemption reconciles not only human beings to God, but human beings to one another. When we are reconciled to God, we are reconciled to other human beings who are also reconciled to God. For example, we learn to forgive one another (Col 3:13, Eph 4:32). The redemption that Christ brings transforms not only the human individual, but the human group. We become children of God, related to one another like members of a family (1 Tim 5:1). Christ recreates us (Eph 4:24), bringing us into a new human community, the people of God (Eph 2:19). There can be only one people belonging to God, because there is only one Christ. Obviously this oneness works in a different way before the incarnation and the resurrection. It can have only a preliminary and shadowy form until Christ's work is actually accomplished. But we cannot think of the Old Testament people of God as a second people of God along side the New Testament people of God. These are two successive historical phases of the manifestation of the corporate and community implications of Christ's representative headship.
It is not fully relevant when some dispensationalists bring in the topic of God's dealings with the angels. They say, "If God has separate purposes for angels, well then, he may have separate purposes for Israel and the church." But the angels were never united under Adam's headship. They did not fall with Adam, neither are they redeemed from their sins by being united to Christ by faith. Hence the destiny of the angels does not confront us with the same types of questions. When it comes to human redemption, Rom 5:12-21 shows us the way we must think. It excludes in principle the idea of two parallel peoples of God, because the corporate unity of the people of God derives from their common representative head.
In the light of dispensationalist concern for diversity and discontinuity betweeen historical epochs, it is particularly necessary to reckon with the radical break in history which took place in the life of Christ, above all in his death, resurrection, and ascension. There is a dichotomy here, a dichotomy of "before" and "after." Christ's work made a real and lasting difference. God's relation to human beings can never be the same afterwards, because now redemption has been accomplished. There is, then, a very great distinction between Israel and the church. But the distinction is basically a historical one, not a metaphysical one. It is the distinction between before and after Christ's resurrection, not a distinction between heavenly and earthly.
True, Christ is the man from heaven (1 Cor 15:47-49). Our citizenship is in heaven (Phil 3:20). But this is because heaven is the throne of God, the starting point and model for renewal of the whole cosmos. We must not construe heaven simply as a static otherness, but as a power source that will transform the whole. Moreover, the heaven-earth contrast is not now a contrast between what is ethereal and vaporous on the one hand and what is physical and solid on the other. Christ's own resurrection body is quite real, quite tangible (Luke 24:39). We might say that it is the really real, since Christ is to remain permanently while all other physical things are transformed (2 Pet 3:10-12).
Also, we ought not to vaporize or overly individualize the kind of fulfillment of OT promises that we experience in union with Jesus Christ. Christ is Lord of our bodies, Lord of the community of God's people, not simply Lord of the individual soul.
But a number of questions remain. Does this mean that the Jews as such, from Pentecost onward, have lost every kind of distinctive status over against the Gentiles? No. If you have once been a member of God's people, you are "marked for life" (cf. Rom 11:29). You are in a different position than if you had never been in this kind of relationship with God. You are more grievously responsible if you apostasize (2 Pet 2:21-22).
Romans 11 tells the story very effectively. Some dispensationalists construe the olive tree in Romans 11 as a symbol for being in the place of spiritual opportunity and privilege. It certainly involves that. But it also implies being holy (Rom 11:16). To be part of the olive is thus similar to being part of the "holy nation" of 1 Pet 2:9. It is similar to what Peter means by being "a chosen race, God's own people" (1 Pet 2:9). Now some Jews have been cut off from their place in the olive tree, so that Gentiles might be grafted in. But Jews in their cutting off remain cultivated olive branches, and they can be grafted in again. This is quite consistent with the fact that there is only one holy (cultivated) olive tree, hence one people of God, and one root. Salvation comes to cut-off Jews precisely as they are reunited to the olive tree, as they renew their status as part of the people of God, as they receive again fellowship with God, as they receive nourishment from the root.
Why are the two separate terms, "Israel" and "the church," usually used for Jews and the church in the New Testament? Superficially, this might seem to point to the idea of two parallel peoples of God. But one must remember that theology is not to be deduced directly from vocabulary stock (cf. Barr 1961; Silva 1982). In fact, the NT usage is rather complex, since many instances of the use of "Israel" refer to the people of God before the transition which took place at the resurrection of Christ and Pentecost. Some uses are OT quotations. But, beyond this, several terms are needed in a complex situation where some of the Old Testament people of God have been cut off from their fellowship with God (Romans 11). The obvious and convenient decision to use "Israel" and "the Jews" (hoi Ioudaioi) most of the time to designate the Jewish people need not entail any denial of the deeper conceptual and theological unity between Old Testament and New Testament phases of existence of one people of God (cf. 1 Pet 2:9-10).
More generally, all interpreters need to recognize that the Bible is written in everyday and sometimes literary language, not technically precise language of later systematicians. We must allow that the meanings of individual words are not infinitely precise, and that the particular sense that a word has is codetermined by its immediate context (cf. Barr 1961, Silva 1982).
Next, what about the OT recipients of prophecy? Did they understand what they were being told? How did they understand it? These questions need more detailed discussion later (see chapter 9). For the moment, let me say that I think that the OT hearers understood. But they need not have understood as precisely or as fully as we can in the light of seeing the fulfillment in Jesus Christ. They understood sufficiently well to be nourished and encouraged in their time. For example, as they listened to Isaiah's prophecies of a new exodus (cf., e.g., Isa 51:9-11), they would have realized that it was figurative: they need not return to Egypt, cross miraculously through the Red Sea, and wander again in the wilderness in order to experience it. What exact "literal" form it would take was left open-ended. They might not be sure exactly which details were figurative, and in exactly which respects they were figurative. But they knew what the substance of it was: a deliverance as mighty and all-embracing as the first exodus.
But if things are sometimes left vague like this, how do we control our understanding of Scripture in general and of prophecy in particular? Again, these are questions that one could spend a long time answering. Basically, however, the answers can be summed up in a few words.
(1) We use grammatical-historical interpretation. That is, we ask what the passage meant in the historical and linguistic situation in which it was originally recorded.
(2) We use Scripture to interpret Scripture. Clear passages can sometimes help us with more obscure. When fulfillments actually come, they help us to understand the prophecies more fully.
(3) Main points are clearer than details. We can be sure of the main points even at times when we are not confident that we have pinned down all the details. Things that the Bible teaches in many places or with great emphasis are held with greater confidence than things taught once or in passing (because we are not so sure than we have understood the details correctly).
(4) We may rightly expect "cumulative fulfillment" of many prophecies that envision long-range promises or threats. Willis J. Beecher has expounded this matter ably:
In the nature of things a promise, operative without limit of time, may begin to be fulfilled at once, and may also continue being fulfilled through future period after period. (Beecher 1905, 129.)
According to one idea a generic prediction is one which regards an event as occurring in a series of parts, separated by intervals, and expresses itself in language that may apply indifferently to the nearest part, or to the remoter parts, or to the whole--in other words, a prediction which, in applying to the whole of a complex event, also applies to some of the parts. (Beecher 1905, 130.)
Others speak of the successive or the progressive fulfilment of a prediction. An event is foretold which is to be brought about through previous events that in some particulars resemble it. (Beecher 1905, 130.)
Now what about the millennium? What are we to expect in the future? Well, we expect the coming of Christ. All God's promises are yes and amen in Jesus Christ (2 Cor 1:20). Moreover, all the promises are relevant to the church; all apply to us in some fashion, directly or indirectly. But not all are fulfilled in the church as such. Some are not at present fulfilled at all in the church. Some are only partially fulfilled in the church. In studying some prophecies we come to think that their full realization is still future. In principle, this fuller realization could take place either in the final golden age, the consummation of all things, described in Rev 21:1-22:5,\S1\s or in a "silver" age, commonly called "the millennium," distinct from both the consummation and from the present time. Some prophecies may have their fulfillment in the silver age, others in the golden age, others in both. The language of Rev 21:1-22:51, in my opinion, indicates that the consummation will be the greatest fulfillment of the bulk of OT prophecy. It will not be an ethereal kingdom, but a new heavens and new earth, the earth as physical and solid as Christ's own resurrection body (Hoekema 1979, 274-87; see further Chapter 12).
The emphasis on the new earth helps to bring the traditional millennial positions closer to one another. If all are able to agree that the new earth represents the most intensive fulfillment, arguments about fulfillments of a lesser scope will seem to be less crucial. Moreover, the emphasis on the new earth represents a definite, salutary advance over all the traditional millennial positions. Most amillennialists, premillennialists, and postmillennialists alike have usually put most of their emphasis on fulfillment in the millennial period. They have then disagreed among themselves over the character and date of the millennium. This has been particularly bad for amillennialists, because it leaves them with no emphasis at all on a distinctively "earthy" character to fulfillment. Dispensationalists have rightly objected to this kind of "spiritualization" (Hoekema 1979, 205, 275; quoting Walvoord 1959, 100-102, 298).
It is surpassingly important, then, to include in our reckoning the new earth of Revelation 21:1-22:5. Even when we do so, we can expect people still to disagree over whether the Bible teaches the existence of a distinctive silver age in the future ("millennium"). Some will think that such an age is necessary for the fulfillment of some OT prophecies, and that Rev 20:1-10 teaches the existence of such an age. On the other hand, others will think that the second coming of Christ will bring so sweeping a victory over sin and its consequences, that from then on the reign of Christ physically and visibly on earth will continue forever, with no further need to deal with sin. The issue at stake in our present discussion is not how sweeping the consequences of the second coming are, how intensive the fulfillment is, but whether the fulfillment at that time will be an organic continuation of what Christ has done in this time. In this time he has integrated Gentiles and Jews into one body through the cross (Eph 2:16). Will there be one people of God at that time or not? I say that there will be, because there is only one representative head who brings them to salvation by uniting them to himself.
One thing more needs to be said about millennial disputes. Some judicious discrimination and sensitivity are needed when we venture to criticize other views for global failures. Postmillennials criticize premillennialists for their pessimism, premillennialists criticize postmillennialists for hopeless naive optimism in the face of the World Wars. Often such criticisms seem to those in the opposite camp to be caricatures. What looks like a failure when viewed from outside, in terms of a competing system, may very well seem to be a strength when viewed from inside, in terms of the system itself. All millennial views are subject to such problems, since all tend to carry with them a global atmosphere about the course of church history. People tend to read the atmosphere of the opposing system in terms of their system, not the opposing system as a whole, and so find it less defensible than it is.
Since we are focusing on dispensationalists, I take my prime example from them. The dispensationalist Charles L. Feinberg (1980, 77; quoting Ryrie 1963, 44) expresses his view of history as follows:
Concerning the goal of history, dispensationalists find it in the establishment of the millennial kingdom on earth while the covenant theologian regards it as the eternal state. This is not to say that dispensationalists minimize the glory of the eternal state, but it is to insist that the display of the glory of the God who is sovereign in human history must be seen in the present heavens and earth as well as in the new heavens and earth. This view of the realization of the goal of history within time is both optimistic and in accord with the requirements of the definition. The covenant view, which sees the course of history continuing the present struggle between good and evil until teminated by the beginning of eternity, obviously does not have any goal within temporal history and is therefore pessimistic.
What do we say about this? Premillennialists in general are often accused by postmillennialists of being pessimistic, because they postpone the visible triumph of Christ's kingdom until after his return. But premillennialists themselves do not see it that way. Feinberg and Ryrie in particular claim to be truly optimistic. When Feinberg and Ryrie think of the second coming, the associations that they make are different from those of the postmillennialist. They see the time after the second coming as still having a basic continuity with our history now. It is the apex of history rather than being simply beyond our time and therefore leaving our time hopeless. But because they have no visible triumph within the time span that the postmillennialist alots for the triumph, it seems from within a postmillennialist framework that they are pessimistic.
Now let us turn to look at Feinberg and Ryrie's criticism of others. They say that "the covenant view ... obviously does not have any goal within temporal history and is therefore pessimistic." Of course, what Feinberg and Ryrie say does not in fact apply to all covenantal views. It does not apply to covenantal premillennialism or postmillennialism, but only to amillennialism. Even with respect to amillennialism, their criticism is skewed. In fact, they make the same mistake with respect to amillennialism as postmillennialism is tempted to make concerning premillennialism. From within Ryrie's framework, it is obvious that the goal of history, the apex of history, must arrive within history, before the arrival of new heavens and new earth. If not, it leaves our time (counted now as extending up to the end of old earth) hopeless.
But this is not how at least some amillennialists look at the matter. For instance, as we have already observed, the amillennialist Anthony Hoekema places much special stress on the new earth (1979, 274-287). He argues that the consummation in a new heavens and new earth is not a totally new beginning, but a transformation of what now is. There is still continuity, just as there is continuity between Christ's resurrection body and his body before his resurrection.
Hence, amillennialists like Hoekema consider that "history" goes on through and beyond the renewal of heaven and earth. They do not think of that final renewal as a distinction between "time" and "eternity" (as if there were no sense of time following the renewal). They do not think of it as "starting over from scratch," but renewal analogous to the renewal of the believer to be a "new creation" (2 Cor 5:17). Their vision of the consummation is very like classic premillennialism's vision of the millennium, except that sin is entirely gone. They would say, "We are even more optimistic than the premillennialists about what sorts of triumph will take place when Christ returns."
Feinberg and Ryrie, of course, insist that the triumph must be within "temporal history"--but the words "temporal" and "history" have different functions in their dispensationalist system than they do in the above type of amillennialism. Feinberg and Ryrie insist that the triumph must take place before the coming of the new heaven and new earth--but what that new heaven and earth amount to is different for them than for amillennialists. Ryrie argues that dispensationalism is optimistic, and amillennialism pessimistic--but only after he had deliberately eliminated the one age about which amillennialists have their most profound optimism. To an amillennialist like Hoekema Ryrie's criticism must seem like a misunderstanding or a begging of the question.
We may use an analogy. It is as if Ryrie were to propose a competition between his sedan and an amillennialist's pickup-truck. Ryrie says, "Let us see which can carry more goods." Ryrie then argues that the sedan can carry more because anything outside the body of the car is not to be counted. For Ryrie, adding in the consummation is like putting a luggage rack on the top of the car. That doesn't count in the competition. But for the "earthy" amillennialist, the consummation is like the back of the pickup. It is what the whole pickup is made for. Of course the amillennialist will lose if you don't allow the use of the back end. Ryrie's argument results in a meaningless victory by fiat.
I have described the ideas above as developments within covenant theology. But with only a little exaggeration one could say that they were also developments within dispensational theology. Some of the modified dispensationalists described in chapter 3 hold that there is only one people of God. This affirmation alone brings them into a considerable measure of agreement with the ideas in section 11 above. In fact, some modified dispensationalists agree with the points made in the whole of this chapter. So, provided we are able to treat the question of Israel's relative distinctiveness in the millennium as a minor problem, no substantial areas of disagreement remain. But not all dispensationalists, nor all covenant theologians for that matter, are in this peaceful position. So we will have to talk about problems which prevent that.