Saturday, September 27, 2025

Preterist-Idealism: A Covenantally Coherent Eschatology of Certain Victory

by Rev. William M. Brennan, TH.D.

1. Introduction

Preterist-Idealism affirms that the prophetic drama of Scripture finds historical realization in the first-century covenantal transition, yet continues to manifest recurring patterns throughout history until the final consummation. It holds that the kingdom of Christ is both already inaugurated and not yet fully manifested, moving inexorably toward universal restoration when God is all in all (1 Cor 15:28).

2. The Ground of Victory: Christ’s Enthronement

The church’s triumph rests on the omnipotent reign of the risen Christ:

Matthew 28:18-20 – All authority is His; the Great Commission cannot fail.
Psalm 2:8-9 – The nations are His inheritance.
Ephesians 1:20-23 – Christ seated above all powers; the church shares His fullness.
1 Corinthians 15:25 – He must reign until every enemy is subdued.

Thus the decisive victory has already been won through Christ’s cross and resurrection, enthroning Him as King of kings (Rev 1:5; 19:16).

3. The Present Age: Covenantally Fulfilled, Missionally Active

A. Preterist Fulfillment

The Old Covenant order ended in the judgment of AD 70.
The New Covenant is fully inaugurated; Christ rules from heaven.
Revelation’s prophecies primarily spoke to first-century realities (Roman persecution, Jewish opposition, temple’s fall).

B. Idealist Recurrence

The same spiritual patterns—beastly empire, false prophet, apostate city—reappear throughout history as the church advances.
Each cycle showcases Christ’s superior power and purifies His people.

Thus history is a series of covenantal confrontations, echoing the original drama until final consummation.

4. The Certain Consummation: Universal Restoration

Scripture testifies that Christ’s reign culminates in total victory:

Philippians 2:10-11 – Every knee shall bow, every tongue confess Jesus as Lord.
1 Corinthians 15:24-28 – The last enemy, death, destroyed; God all in all.
Colossians 1:20 – All things reconciled through the blood of the cross.
Acts 3:21 – Heaven retains Christ “until the times of the restoration of all things.”

Implication

This is not mere coercive subjugation but cosmic reconciliation—the apokatastasis foreseen by prophets and fulfilled in Christ’s mediatorial work. Evil is not co-eternal with good; it is abolished.

5. The Role of the Church

The church, as the embodied kingdom, participates in this triumph by:

Proclaiming the gospel to all nations (Matt 24:14).
Bearing witness amid opposition (Rev 12:11).
Discipling nations, anticipating their healing (Rev 22:2).

Her mission will succeed—not necessarily in temporal dominance but in achieving the intended end: universal acknowledgment of Christ’s Lordship.

6. Distinctives of the Preterist-Idealist Vision

Aspect	Explanation
Historical Root	Prophetic fulfillment anchored in the first-century covenantal climax (AD 70).
Symbolic Recurrence	Patterns repeat across ages, demonstrating ongoing relevance.
Covenantal Trajectory	History moves toward consummation, not stagnation.
Universal Telos	Final restoration and cosmic reconciliation under Christ.

7. Contrast with Other Views

Futurism: Detaches meaning from the original audience.
Historicism: Speculative timeline lacking authorial intent.
Idealism (pure): Abstracts prophecy from history.
Full Preterism: Denies future consummation.
Postmillennialism: Foresees cultural triumph within history but not necessarily universal reconciliation.

Preterist-Idealism uniquely holds:

History’s patterns are fulfilled in Christ, unfold through the church, and culminate in total restoration when all creation bows before the Lamb.

8. Conclusion

The church cannot fail because the Lord who reigns is omnipotent. Though the battle persists, the outcome is assured. The consummation will reveal:

Every enemy subdued,
Every heart reconciled,
Every tongue confessing,
All creation renewed,
so that God may be all in all.

“Of the increase of His government and of peace there will be no end.” — Isaiah 9:7

Thursday, September 25, 2025

Full Preterism, Typology, and the Final Consummation: Toward a Universal Restoration

by Rev. William M. Brennan, TH.D.

Introduction

Full preterism affirms that all explicit prophetic predictions in Scripture—particularly those regarding judgment, the fall of Jerusalem, and the passing of the old covenant order—were fulfilled in the first century. This reading, grounded in the grammatical-historical method, interprets texts like Matthew 24 and Revelation not as yet-future cataclysms, but as symbolic and covenantal judgments culminating in A.D. 70.^1 Yet if all prophecy has already been fulfilled, does this leave no room for a future consummation of history? This essay argues that typological revelation itself demands a telos beyond the first century: a final consummation in universal restoration. When universalism and postmillennial eschatology are both granted, they naturally converge in pointing to a climactic culmination of God’s redemptive plan.

Preterism and Typological Fulfillment

The grammatical-historical method insists on reading biblical prophecy in its historical context. Jesus’ Olivet discourse (Matt. 24) directly warned his contemporaries of the impending destruction of Jerusalem, a point confirmed by Josephus’ detailed account of the Jewish War.^2 Likewise, Revelation’s beast and harlot imagery finds natural correspondence in first-century Rome and Jerusalem.^3 Preterism rightly underscores that prophecy had an imminent audience-relevance.

Yet biblical prophecy operates not only on the level of direct fulfillment, but also on the level of typology. Israel’s exodus, exile, and restoration cycles were repeatedly fulfilled in history, while at the same time pointing forward to the greater exodus in Christ (Luke 9:31, exodos). The judgment on Jerusalem in A.D. 70, though final in terms of covenantal transition, becomes itself a type of the ultimate purgation of evil. Typology thus preserves the possibility of further consummation without reintroducing futurist distortions.

The Universalist and Postmillennial Horizon

If universalism is true—that God will restore all things through Christ (Acts 3:21; 1 Cor. 15:22–28)—then history cannot simply drift on in endless cycles. Universal restoration entails a final victory where every enemy is subdued and God becomes “all in all.”^4 Similarly, postmillennialism, with its expectation of gospel triumph in history, points toward a climactic consummation when Christ delivers the kingdom to the Father (1 Cor. 15:24). Both systems imply that the preterist fulfillment of explicit prophecy does not exhaust the eschatological program but rather clears the ground for the final cosmic reconciliation.

Origen and the Question of Perpetuity

Origen of Alexandria (ca. 185–254) represents an early and sophisticated universalist theology. He rightly perceived the freedom of the will and the cosmic scope of redemption, envisioning the final apokatastasis pantōn—“restoration of all things” (Acts 3:21).^5 Yet he erred in suggesting that the glorified will might fall again, and in positing an eternal earth functioning as a reformatory for errant souls and celestials.^6 This undermined the finality of God’s victory and has been judged defective by later orthodox reflection.

In a similar vein, the common opinion among many contemporary full preterists—that history continues indefinitely with an endless crop of elect and reprobate being born without culmination—resembles Origen’s apokatastasis. and suffers from the same defect: it denies Scripture’s insistence on a final end when Christ abolishes death itself and brings creation into perfect sabbath rest (1 Cor. 15:26; Heb. 4:9). Moreover, such a notion does not conform to the testimony of the ecumenical creeds, which consistently affirm a final judgment, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.7 Both the biblical witness and the historic confession of the church demand consummation, not perpetuity.

Irenaeus: Recapitulation and Consummation

Irenaeus of Lyons (ca. 130–202) insisted that the work of Christ recapitulates the entirety of human history. In Against Heresies, he declared that Christ “sums up in Himself all things, both those which are in heaven and which are on earth.”^8 This “recapitulation” (anakephalaiōsis) is not merely covenantal transition, but the uniting of all creation in Christ. For Irenaeus, history has direction and climax; it moves toward consummation, not endless repetition. Thus, while preterism rightly identifies the destruction of Jerusalem as a covenantal hinge, Irenaeus reminds us that typological fulfillment anticipates a final unity of heaven and earth in Christ.

Athanasius: The Incarnation as Teleological

Athanasius (ca. 296–373), in On the Incarnation, argued that the Logos took flesh to bring about incorruption and the defeat of death itself.^9 For Athanasius, Christ’s victory was not provisional but teleological—it aimed at the complete restoration of humanity and the cosmos. This demands a consummation when death, the last enemy, is finally abolished (1 Cor. 15:26). If full preterism affirms that judgment prophecies have been fulfilled, Athanasius compels us to see that the telos of incarnation lies still ahead: the final transformation of creation into incorruptibility.

Gregory of Nyssa: Theological Universalism

Gregory of Nyssa (ca. 335–395) advanced a more explicitly universalist eschatology than even Origen. In his Catechetical Oration, Gregory envisioned the final restoration of all creation: “For it is evident that God will in truth be ‘in all’ when no evil is left in existence.”^10 Unlike Origen, Gregory rejected the idea of perpetual relapse; his universalism was eschatological and consummative. This insight provides an important corrective: if all prophecy was fulfilled in the past, typology nevertheless points forward to Gregory’s horizon—when the redemptive process reaches its sabbath completion.

Creedal Implications: Bodily Resurrection and the Nature of the Final State

All this being said, there are problem areas in the creeds’ themselves. Affirmation of the “resurrection of the body” as expressed in The Apostles’ Creed, the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed, and later confessions of faith such as the Westminster Confession all affirm this hope as central to Christian orthodoxy.11 Yet the way this phrase has often been understood—namely, as a recreation of the terrestrial, decayed body of flesh—sits uneasily with the apostolic witness.

Paul in 1 Corinthians 15 explicitly distinguishes between two modes of embodiment: the psychikon sōma (natural/terrestrial body) and the pneumatikon sōma (spiritual/celestial body). “There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body” (1 Cor. 15:44). The former is tied to Adam and the earth; the latter to Christ and the heavens. Paul insists that “flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God” (v. 50), clearly teaching that the eschatological body is not merely a reconstitution of earthly flesh but a transformation into celestial glory.

On the basis of a proper application of the grammatical-historical method—the hermeneutical standard recovered at the Reformation—it becomes evident that the credal interpretation, when understood as the reanimation of terrestrial bodies, and a subsequent final local judgment day for all mankind fails to meet the exegetical test. This should not be surprising. The ecumenical creeds arose before the maturation of grammatical-historical exegesis and before the Reformation’s insistence on the primacy of Scripture over ecclesiastical tradition. The early church confessed the resurrection in faithful simplicity, but its precise ontological understanding was underdeveloped.

Thus, the grammatical-historical method both affirms the truth in the creeds—the reality of bodily resurrection—while correcting their common misinterpretation. The resurrection is indeed bodily, but the body is of a different order: celestial, imperishable, and spiritual. In this light, the creedal hope finds its proper anchor not in a literalistic reconstitution of decayed flesh, but in Paul’s inspired proclamation that “as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the man of heaven” (1 Cor. 15:49).

The Grammatical-Historical Method and the Consummation

How then does the grammatical-historical method validate a future consummation if all explicit prophecies are past? The key lies in the eschatological trajectories embedded in Scripture’s types and promises:

Creation’s Groaning (Rom. 8:18–23). Paul’s language of cosmic liberation is not tied to A.D. 70, but to the ultimate unveiling of the sons of God.^12
The Subjection of All Enemies (1 Cor. 15:22–28). While Christ’s resurrection inaugurated the defeat of death, Paul insists that death as the final enemy will be abolished.^13
Typological Culmination. Historical judgments (e.g., the flood, Babylon, Jerusalem) are microcosms of a greater archetype: the purging of all evil. Typology by its very nature points beyond itself, demanding a reality greater than the shadow.

Thus, while the grammatical-historical method locates the explicit fulfillments in the past, it simultaneously unveils implicit trajectories—patterns and types that anticipate a consummation still to come.

Conclusion

Full preterism rightly insists that the apocalyptic prophecies of Jesus and John were fulfilled in the first century. Yet typology reveals that these fulfillments were provisional signs of a still greater horizon: the final universal restoration of all creation. Origen’s universalist instinct was correct, though his perpetuity of reform was flawed. Similarly, the idea of an endless perpetuation of human history with elect and reprobate added without end denies both Scripture and creed. And even the creeds themselves, though rightly confessing the resurrection of the body, often reflected a pre-critical interpretation that failed to distinguish between terrestrial and celestial embodiment as Paul so clearly does in 1 Corinthians 15.

Patristic theology reinforces this conclusion: Irenaeus’ recapitulation, Athanasius’ incarnational teleology, and Gregory of Nyssa’s consummative universalism all point toward an eschatological goal, not perpetual process. When combined with the Reformation’s grammatical-historical method, these witnesses confirm that the telos of redemptive history is not open-ended perpetuity or crude reanimation of flesh, but the final transformation of creation into incorruptibility.

In this way, the biblical witness coherently integrates preterist fulfillment, postmillennial hope, universal restoration, and celestial embodiment into a single consummated vision: God will be all in all.

Notes

R. C. Sproul, The Last Days According to Jesus (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1998), 46–60.
Josephus, The Jewish War, 6.271–315.
Kenneth L. Gentry, Before Jerusalem Fell: Dating the Book of Revelation (Tyler, TX: ICE, 1989), 141–200.
Ilaria Ramelli, The Christian Doctrine of Apokatastasis (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 87–105.
Origen, On First Principles 1.6.3; cf. Commentary on Romans 5.10.
Henri Crouzel, Origen (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1989), 203–205.
The Nicene Creed (A.D. 325, 381); The Apostles’ Creed; cf. Philip Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, vol. 2 (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1996), 45–57.
Irenaeus, Against Heresies 3.19.1.
Athanasius, On the Incarnation 54.3.
Gregory of Nyssa, The Great Catechism 26.
Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 53–60.
N. T. Wright, Paul and the Faithfulness of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2013), 1047–1053.
Richard B. Hays, First Corinthians (Louisville: John Knox, 1997), 260–265.
Westminster Confession of Faith (1646), ch. 32; Augsburg Confession (1530), art. XVII.

Preterism and the Grammatical-Historical Hermeneutic: A Reconsideration of Proof-Texts for Eternal Torment

by Rev. William M. Brennan, TH.D.

Introduction

The grammatical-historical method seeks to interpret Scripture in light of its original grammar, historical context, and literary form. This hermeneutic guards against speculative allegorization on the one hand and anachronistic literalism on the other. When applied consistently, however, it does not support the traditional doctrine of eternal conscious torment (ECT) but instead confirms preterism—the conviction that many New Testament prophecies referred to the first-century crisis culminating in the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70.

Yet many interpreters suspend grammatical-historical rigor when approaching texts cited in defense of ECT. They impose later theological constructs onto first-century apocalyptic idioms, misreading what were historically bound warnings as metaphysical descriptions of everlasting torture. This essay contends that preterism, not futurism, is the proper fruit of grammatical-historical exegesis. We will examine the key texts invoked to support ECT—Matthew 25:41–46, Revelation 20:10–15, Mark 9:43–48, 2 Thessalonians 1:9, Jude 7, and related passages—before reflecting on the systematic and patristic implications.

Matthew 25:41–46 — The Sheep and the Goats

Context within the Olivet Discourse

Matthew 25 concludes Jesus’ Olivet Discourse (Matt 24–25), given in response to the disciples’ question about the destruction of the temple and the end of the age (Matt 24:3). The discourse consistently emphasizes imminence: “this generation will not pass away until all these things take place” (24:34). The parables of the virgins, talents, and sheep and goats depict the coming judgment on Israel in connection with the fall of Jerusalem.

Verse 41: “Depart from me…into the eternal fire”

The Greek phrase to pur to aiōnion (τὸ πῦρ τὸ αἰώνιον) recalls Old Testament usage. Jude 7 interprets Sodom and Gomorrah as having suffered the penalty of “eternal fire.” Yet those cities are not still burning. The fire is “eternal” in its effect (irreversible judgment), not its duration. First-century Jews would have recognized this as covenantal imagery, not metaphysical cosmology. Josephus records that Jerusalem’s destruction in A.D. 70 left the city engulfed in flames and corpses, resembling Gehenna (War 6.271–276).

Verse 46: “These will go away into eternal punishment”

The word kolasis (κόλασις), unlike timōria (penal retribution), originally denoted corrective pruning.² Jesus contrasts the irreversible exclusion from the messianic kingdom (kolasis aiōnios) with participation in enduring messianic life (zōē aiōnios). The punishment is covenantal and historical, not metaphysical and eternal.

Revelation 20:10, 14–15 — The Lake of Fire

Apocalyptic Genre

Revelation’s imagery is symbolic and visionary. A grammatical-historical method requires recognizing this genre: beasts, dragons, and fiery lakes function as symbols of political and spiritual realities, not literal geographic descriptions of the afterlife.³

Verse 10: “Tormented day and night forever and ever”

The idiom eis tous aiōnas tōn aiōnōn (εἰς τοὺς αἰῶνας τῶν αἰώνων, “unto the ages of the ages”) is Hebraic hyperbole for irreversibility. Isaiah 34:10 speaks of Edom’s smoke rising “forever,” though Edom is not burning today. The “beast” symbolizes Rome, the “false prophet” apostate Judaism, and the “devil” the spiritual adversary behind them. Their casting into fire signifies the total collapse of these persecuting powers, not their unending torment.

Verse 14: “Death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire”

Taken literally, this would mean abstractions suffer conscious torment. Instead, it signifies the abolition of mortality—the same truth Paul proclaims in 1 Corinthians 15:26: “The last enemy to be destroyed is death.”

Verse 15: “If anyone’s name was not found written in the book of life…”

This points to covenantal exclusion, not metaphysical damnation. Those aligned with the persecuting powers faced historical judgment. John warns of exclusion from the New Jerusalem, not everlasting torture.

The Prophetic Motif of Judgment by Fire

Fire as a symbol of judgment saturates the Old Testament:

Isaiah 34:9–10 – Edom’s smoke rises “forever,” symbolizing annihilation.
Jeremiah 7:20 – Judah faces fire that “shall not be quenched,” fulfilled in Babylon’s destruction.
Ezekiel 21:31–32 – Fire consumes Ammon; “unquenchable” means irresistible.
Daniel 7:9–11 – A fiery stream destroys the beast, a direct background for Revelation.
Malachi 4:1–3 – The wicked become “ashes under your feet.”

In each case, the imagery depicts decisive, historical judgment, not unending torment. Jesus and John, immersed in these Scriptures, employed the same idioms.

Other Proof-Texts for Eternal Torment

Mark 9:43–48 — “Where their worm does not die and the fire is not quenched”

Jesus alludes to Isaiah 66:24, which depicts corpses outside Jerusalem consumed by fire and worms. The point is disgrace and total defeat, not perpetual torment. “Unquenchable fire” means unstoppable until its work is done (Jer 17:27). Gehenna symbolized Jerusalem’s impending fiery destruction.

2 Thessalonians 1:9 — “Eternal destruction”

Paul addresses first-century persecutors of the Thessalonian church. The Greek olethros aiōnios denotes irreversible ruin, not ongoing torment. Their “destruction” was removal from covenantal standing, not everlasting agony.

Jude 7 — “Suffering the punishment of eternal fire”

Sodom’s destruction is the example: its fire was eternal in effect, not in duration. Jude’s point is that apostate Israel faced the same irreversible judgment.

Other Texts

Matthew 10:28 – God can “destroy body and soul in Gehenna.” The verb apollymi means ruin, not torment. Again, Gehenna signifies Jerusalem’s fiery judgment.
Hebrews 10:27 – A “fury of fire” awaits those who reject Christ. Echoing Jeremiah, this is a warning of the destruction of Jerusalem’s temple system, not everlasting punishment.

Systematic Theological Reflection: Justice, Restoration, and the Problem of Dualism

1. Divine Justice

Unending torment for finite sins contradicts the biblical principle of justice: “He will render to each according to his works” (Rom 2:6). Covenant-breaking Israel faced a proportionate, historical judgment.

2. The Restoration of All Things

Scripture points toward universal restoration (apokatastasis, Acts 3:21; Col 1:20). ECT implies an everlasting rebellion, but preterism clears the ground for the hope that God’s justice is ultimately restorative.

3. Manichaean Dualism and Equal Ultimacy

ECT inadvertently imports Manichaean dualism into Christian theology by positing the eternal coexistence of good and evil. This suggests equal ultimacy—that God’s kingdom and the realm of torment both endure forever. The biblical vision, however, is that evil will be abolished and God will be “all in all” (1 Cor 15:28).

Preterism avoids this distortion. By situating “hell” texts in their first-century context, it affirms the decisive defeat of evil in history and the ultimate triumph of God’s restorative plan.

Patristic Voices Against Eternal Torment

The early church fathers did not speak with one voice on the fate of the wicked, but many repudiated the later doctrine of ECT:

Origen (185–254) – Taught that punishments are corrective, not retributive, and anticipated the ultimate restoration of all (De Principiis 1.6.1–3).
Gregory of Nyssa (335–395) – Interpreted the “lake of fire” as purgative, intended to heal and restore (On the Soul and Resurrection).
Athanasius (296–373) – In On the Incarnation, described death and corruption as abolished by Christ, emphasizing restoration rather than perpetual torment.

Even Augustine, who hardened Western theology against universal restoration, admitted that some Christians of his day believed punishment was purgative and temporary (Enchiridion 112). The dominance of ECT came later, shaped more by Latin juridical categories than by consistent exegesis.

Thus, a preterist, grammatical-historical reading finds strong resonance with significant patristic witnesses who opposed the idea of unending dualism between good and evil.

Conclusion

The doctrine of eternal conscious torment rests on misreadings of prophetic and apocalyptic imagery. A consistent grammatical-historical hermeneutic—honoring genre, idiom, and historical context—supports a preterist understanding of the so-called “hell texts.” These passages describe covenantal judgments in the first century, not everlasting torments.

Moreover, ECT undermines biblical theology by importing Manichaean dualism, distorting divine justice, and contradicting the promise of cosmic restoration. Preterism, by contrast, aligns with both Scripture’s historical context and its ultimate vision of God’s triumph:

“That God may be all in all.” (1 Cor 15:28)

Preterism, therefore, is not an innovation but the faithful outworking of the Reformation’s hermeneutic—vindicating both the accuracy of Jesus’ prophecies and the goodness of God’s redemptive purpose.

Notes

Jude 7; cf. Philo, On the Eternity of the World 76, where aiōnios denotes permanence of result rather than infinite duration.
Aristotle, Rhetoric 1.10: kolasis is for the sake of the one corrected, timōria for the satisfaction of the one punishing.
G. B. Caird, The Language and Imagery of the Bible (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1980), 243–258.
Josephus, The Jewish War 6.271–276, vividly describes Jerusalem consumed by fire in A.D. 70.
Jeremiah 17:27 and Isaiah 66:24 provide the background for Mark 9.
Augustine, Confessions 3.6, describing his departure from Manichaean dualism.
Origen, De Principiis 1.6.1–3; Gregory of Nyssa, On the Soul and Resurrection; Athanasius, On the Incarnation.

The Beast, the False Prophet, and the Lake of Fire: A Preterist Universalist Reading

by Rev. William M. Brennan, TH.D.

Introduction

Few images in the Apocalypse of John have exercised more influence on Christian imagination than the “lake of fire burning with sulfur” (Rev 19:20; 20:14). To many readers across the centuries, this fiery abyss has symbolized the eternal torment of the wicked in hell. The beast and the false prophet are thrown into it alive, and later even Death and Hades themselves are cast into its flames. The traditional picture of everlasting punishment is so deeply ingrained that alternative readings are often dismissed out of hand.

Yet the question remains: is that how John and his first hearers in Asia Minor would have understood these images? If we apply the grammatical-historical method carefully, attending to the genre of apocalyptic literature, a different picture emerges. The beast and false prophet are not individuals consigned to everlasting misery but symbolic personifications of oppressive powers. The lake of fire is not a literal post-mortem location but a metaphor for the decisive abolition of those powers.

Within this essay I will pursue a reading that is both preterist—anchoring the text in the historical realities of the first century—and universalist—recognizing that judgment in Revelation clears the way for the healing of the nations and the abolition of death itself. Along the way, I will also entertain an often-overlooked interpretation: that the false prophet may represent not only the imperial cult but also the Jewish high priesthood, whose vestments and forehead inscription resonate with Revelation’s imagery.

The Beast as Rome’s Political Power

The beast of Revelation is best understood against the background of Daniel 7, where four beasts rise from the sea to symbolize successive empires. The fourth beast, “dreadful and exceedingly strong,” devours and tramples the earth (Dan 7:7, 23). John takes up this imagery and applies it to his own context. The beast of Revelation 13 rises from the sea, speaks blasphemies, and makes war on the saints. It rules over “every tribe and people and language and nation” (Rev 13:7).

For John’s hearers in Asia Minor, this was a transparent allusion to the Roman Empire. As Craig Koester observes, “for Christians in the late first century, the beast was not an abstraction. It was Rome itself, whose power was both overwhelming and menacing” (Koester, Revelation, 2014, p. 562). Richard Bauckham likewise emphasizes that John unmasks Rome’s imperial ideology, portraying it as demonic and beastly rather than civilizing and beneficent (The Climax of Prophecy, 1993, pp. 384–88).

The beast, then, represents Rome’s political-military apparatus. It is not a single emperor nor a single human soul but the empire itself, personified in apocalyptic symbolism.

The False Prophet: Two Competing Interpretations

The Imperial Cult View

The dominant interpretation identifies the false prophet with the beast from the land (Rev 13:11–18). This second beast looks like a lamb but speaks like a dragon. It performs great signs, deceives the inhabitants of the earth, and compels worship of the first beast. It enforces the infamous “mark,” without which no one may buy or sell.

Scholars such as David Aune describe this figure as “the religious legitimator of Roman power, representing the provincial priesthoods and civic officials of the imperial cult” (Revelation 17–22, 1998, p. 1061). G. K. Beale similarly interprets the false prophet as the “propaganda machinery of the empire,” functioning to support the worship of Caesar (Revelation: A Commentary on the Greek Text, 1999, pp. 977–78).

On this reading, the beast is Rome as political power; the false prophet is Rome’s religious-ideological apparatus. Together they symbolize the oppressive systems under which John’s audience lived.

The High Priesthood View

A minority but provocative interpretation identifies the false prophet with the Jewish high priesthood in Jerusalem. Several features of the text make this possible.

First, the high priest alone bore a golden plate on his forehead inscribed “Holy to YHWH” (Exod 28:36–38). Revelation parodies this imagery with a false inscription associated with beastly worship. The “mark on the forehead” (Rev 13:16) could be a satirical inversion of the high priest’s consecration.

Second, the priestly vestments described in Exodus 28 resonate with Revelation’s imagery of gaudy garments, precious stones, and symbolic adornment. Revelation often employs parody and inversion—turning priestly and temple imagery on its head to expose corruption.

Third, historically, the high priesthood was closely entangled with Roman power. Josephus records how the priestly elites collaborated with the empire, suppressing dissent and opposing the early Christian movement. By legitimating Roman rule and rejecting Jesus as Messiah, they played the role of “false prophet.”

Kenneth Gentry argues that John’s parody of priestly imagery makes best sense if the false prophet is the high priestly establishment (Before Jerusalem Fell, 1989, pp. 229–31). While not the consensus view, this interpretation highlights Revelation’s polemics against “the great city … where their Lord was crucified” (Rev 11:8) and the “synagogue of Satan” (Rev 2:9; 3:9).

Thus, the false prophet may be read either as the imperial cult (Rome’s religious propaganda) or the Jewish priesthood (Jerusalem’s compromised leaders). Both readings fit the grammatical-historical context, depending on whether one adopts a late or early date for Revelation.

The Lake of Fire in Apocalyptic Symbolism

The “lake of fire burning with sulfur” draws on a rich biblical background. Isaiah 30:33 portrays Topheth as prepared with fire and wood, ready for the king of Assyria. Isaiah 34:9–10 describes Edom’s judgment in terms of perpetual burning. Daniel 7:11 envisions the beast destroyed and consumed by fire.

In Jewish apocalyptic literature, fire regularly symbolizes divine judgment. As Beale notes, “fire in Revelation functions as a stock metaphor for complete removal of evil” (Beale, Revelation, p. 972). David Aune points out that the addition of sulfur intensifies the imagery, evoking the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah (Revelation 17–22, p. 1064).

What is crucial is that the lake of fire consumes not only the beast and false prophet but also Death and Hades (Rev 20:14). This cannot be literal torment of persons; Death and Hades are personified powers. Their destruction means that death itself is abolished. Paul echoes this in 1 Corinthians 15:26: “the last enemy to be destroyed is death.”

Thus, the lake of fire is a symbolic depiction of the annihilation of hostile powers, not the eternal damnation of human souls.

Preterist and Universalist Implications

Preterist Horizon

For first-century believers in Asia Minor, these visions offered reassurance. If the false prophet is the imperial cult, then John promised that Rome’s propaganda machinery would be destroyed. If the false prophet is the Jewish high priesthood, then John foresaw the temple’s destruction in A.D. 70. In either case, the systems that oppressed God’s people were destined for fiery abolition.

Universalist Horizon

From a universalist perspective, Revelation’s endgame is not eternal exclusion but cosmic renewal. The nations who were deceived are later healed: “the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations” (Rev 22:2). The kings of the earth, once aligned with Babylon, are seen entering the New Jerusalem with their glory (Rev 21:24–26). And death itself is no more (Rev 21:4).

Richard Bauckham notes that the inclusion of the nations at the end is the narrative counterpoint to their deception earlier in the book (Theology of the Book of Revelation, 1993, p. 138). The deceivers—the beast, the false prophet, and Death—are destroyed; the deceived are restored. This pattern resonates with patristic universalist trajectories: Origen’s hope for apokatastasis and Gregory of Nyssa’s vision of the final defeat of death itself.

Patristic Witnesses

Early Christian interpreters already wrestled with the tension between fiery judgment and ultimate hope. Irenaeus, while often cited for his literal reading of Revelation, also emphasized the restoration of creation in Christ (Against Heresies V.36). Origen famously read fire as purgative rather than punitive (On First Principles I.6.3), anticipating the ultimate restoration of all rational creatures. Gregory of Nyssa advanced this trajectory by interpreting the “second death” as the death of sin itself, culminating in universal restoration (On the Soul and Resurrection).

While Augustine later solidified the doctrine of eternal torment in the West, the alternative strand of patristic interpretation shows that a universalist reading of Revelation was not alien to early Christian theology.

Conclusion

A careful grammatical-historical and genre-sensitive reading of Revelation 19:20 and 20:14 suggests that the beast and false prophet represent oppressive systems—Rome and its cultic propaganda, or perhaps the Jewish priesthood—while the lake of fire symbolizes their decisive abolition. When Death and Hades themselves are cast into the fire, it becomes clear that what is destroyed are not people but powers.

For the persecuted Christians of Asia Minor, this was a word of hope: the beastly powers would not last. For the universalist, it is also a word of hope: the abolition of evil clears the way for the healing of the nations, the ingathering of the kings, and the abolition of death itself. In the end, the fiery judgment is not the triumph of eternal exclusion but the prelude to the cosmic reconciliation in which the Lamb makes all things new.

Select Bibliography

Aune, David E. Revelation 17–22. Word Biblical Commentary 52C. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1998.
Bauckham, Richard. The Climax of Prophecy: Studies on the Book of Revelation. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993.
Bauckham, Richard. The Theology of the Book of Revelation. Cambridge: CUP, 1993.
Beale, G. K. The Book of Revelation: A Commentary on the Greek Text. NIGTC. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999.
Gentry, Kenneth L. Before Jerusalem Fell: Dating the Book of Revelation. Tyler, TX: ICE, 1989.
Koester, Craig R. Revelation: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. Anchor Yale Bible 38A. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2014.
Origen. On First Principles.
Gregory of Nyssa. On the Soul and Resurrection.
Irenaeus. Against Heresies.

Wednesday, September 24, 2025

A Synthesis between the Two Types of Theodicy

by Rev. William M. Brennan, TH.D.

Introduction

Christian theology has generally approached the problem of evil along two distinct lines. The Augustinian theodicy looks backward, locating the source of evil in the misuse of free will and explaining it as a privation of the good. By contrast, the Irenaean theodicy looks forward, interpreting evil as a necessary stage in the moral and spiritual development of humanity, a crucible for growth and eventual restoration. These two models—backward-looking and forward-looking—frame most later theological responses.

When examined through this lens, Augustine exemplifies the backward-looking approach, Calvin embodies a forward-looking providential approach closer to Irenaeus, and Jonathan Edwards radicalizes Calvin’s position by grounding evil itself in God’s eternal plan for the manifestation of His glory. This essay will explore their contributions and argue that universalism uniquely resolves the limitations of these “limitarian” theodicies by combining Augustine’s doctrine of privation with the restorative, developmental trajectory of Irenaeus.

I. Augustine: Evil as Privation and Backward Fall

Augustine (354–430) developed his theodicy in opposition to Manichaeism. Evil, he argued, is not a positive substance but a privation (privatio boni) of the good. In Confessions he writes:

“For evil has no positive nature; but the loss of good has received the name ‘evil.’”¹

In the Enchiridion he elaborates:

“For what is that which we call evil but the absence of good? In the bodies of animals, disease and wounds mean nothing but the absence of health… In the mind, when it departs from the light of wisdom, this is called vice… And thus it is that evil is nothing else than the privation of good.”²

For Augustine, evil originates in the misuse of creaturely freedom—the fall of angels and of humanity. This is a backward-looking theodicy, locating the tragedy of evil in a primal lapse. Evil is not part of God’s design but an accident permitted for the sake of freedom.

It is noteworthy that Augustine, influenced by Platonism, once entertained the idea of the soul’s preexistence. In On Free Choice of the Will he recalls:

“I myself once believed that souls sinned in another life, and for that reason were cast into bodies as into prisons.”³

Though later rejected, this speculation reveals the Platonic undertone of Augustine’s theodicy: evil as decline, descent, or turning away from the Good.

II. Calvin: Evil as Providential Instrumentality

John Calvin (1509–1564), inheriting Augustinian concerns, nonetheless represents a decisive move toward an Irenaean-style, forward-looking theodicy. For Calvin, evil is not accidental but woven into God’s decree, serving His higher purposes. In the Institutes he insists:

“Men do nothing save at the secret instigation of God, and do not discuss and deliberate on anything but what he has previously decreed with himself, and brings to pass by his secret direction.”⁴

Moreover, he asserts:

“The wicked are not only impelled by the hand of God, but are also compelled to obey it… whatever they have done, they have been the instruments of God’s will, and most admirably serve his righteous decree.”⁵

Evil thus becomes an instrument within providence. Pharaoh’s hardening, Judas’ betrayal, and Christ’s crucifixion are not deviations but the very means by which God’s glory is displayed. In this respect, Calvin is ironically closer to Irenaeus than to Augustine: evil is purposeful, not merely parasitic, a stage in the unfolding plan of redemption.

III. Edwards: Evil as the Stage for Divine Glory

Jonathan Edwards (1703–1758), the great American Calvinist, radicalized this forward-looking view. In Freedom of the Will he denied libertarian freedom and asserted divine determinism:

“God decrees all things, even all sins… God decreed every action of men, yea, every action of every man, and every circumstance of every action.”⁶

Evil, then, is not only foreseen but foreordained for a higher end. In History of the Work of Redemption, Edwards interprets the whole sweep of history as a unified divine plan, where even Satan’s rebellion serves God’s glory:

“Satan, in tempting man to sin, did that which was exceeding contrary to God; yet by it he did but fulfill God’s purpose, the purpose of the glory of his wisdom, holiness, power and grace.”⁷

This is consistent with his treatise The End for Which God Created the World:

“It is a proper and excellent thing for infinite glory to shine forth… Thus it is necessary, that God’s awful majesty, his authority and dreadful greatness, justice, and holiness should be manifested.”⁸

For Edwards, evil is indispensable: without it, God’s justice, mercy, and power could not be revealed. This is a theodicy not of privation but of instrumentality and necessity, aligning him strongly with the Irenaean forward-looking tradition, though in a distinctly Calvinist idiom.

IV. The Universalist Synthesis: Privation and Restoration

Each theodicy, however, suffers from limitations when held in isolation. Augustine’s backward-looking account preserves God’s innocence but risks rendering evil an inexplicable accident. Calvin and Edwards make evil meaningful but at the cost of divine complicity and a limited redemption in which countless creatures are eternally damned.

Universalism offers a synthesis that resolves these tensions.

From Augustine it adopts the recognition that evil is a privation, a tragic misuse of freedom, even conceivably a fall of preexistent souls. Evil is real and parasitic, not a positive creation.
From Irenaeus (and Calvin and Edwards) it takes the forward-looking vision of evil as the crucible of development and the means by which God’s glory is displayed. Suffering, temptation, and even sin are folded into God’s redemptive plan.
But beyond Calvin and Edwards, universalism rejects the limitation of redemption to the elect. The forward motion of history aims not at partial triumph but at the restoration of all things (Acts 3:21). God’s justice and mercy shine most brightly not in eternal division but in universal reconciliation: “that God may be all in all” (1 Cor 15:28).

Thus, universalism unites the Augustinian privation theodicy with the Irenaean restorative theodicy, showing evil to be both a fall from good and a stage toward the greater good of restoration.

Conclusion

There are essentially two paths of Christian theodicy: the Augustinian, which looks backward to the privation of good through free will, and the Irenaean, which looks forward to the divine purpose in suffering and evil. Augustine, Calvin, and Edwards illustrate these models in different ways: Augustine stressing the fall, Calvin stressing providential instrumentality, and Edwards highlighting evil as necessary for the manifestation of God’s glory. But only a universalist synthesis fully resolves their limitations, holding together Augustine’s account of evil as privation with Irenaeus’ vision of evil as restorative and developmental. In this way, evil is not an eternal blemish or selective tragedy but the crucible of God’s wisdom, ultimately transfigured in the universal restoration of all creation.

Footnotes

Augustine, Confessions, trans. Henry Chadwick (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), III.7.12. ↩
Augustine, Enchiridion on Faith, Hope, and Love, trans. J.F. Shaw, in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, vol. 3 (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1887), ch. 11. ↩
Augustine, On Free Choice of the Will (De Libero Arbitrio), trans. Thomas Williams (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1993), III.20. ↩
John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, trans. Henry Beveridge (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2008), I.xviii.1. ↩
Calvin, Institutes, I.xviii.2. ↩
Jonathan Edwards, Freedom of the Will, in The Works of Jonathan Edwards, vol. 1, ed. Paul Ramsey (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1957), Part IV, Sec. IX. ↩
Jonathan Edwards, The History of the Work of Redemption, in The Works of Jonathan Edwards, vol. 9, ed. John F. Wilson (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989), Part I, Period I, sec. 2. ↩
Jonathan Edwards, The End for Which God Created the World, in The Works of Jonathan Edwards, vol. 8, ed. Paul Ramsey (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989), ch. 1. ↩

The One and the Many in Western Thought

by Rev. William M. Brennan, TH.D.

INTRODUCTION

The mirrored arcs of ancient and modern philosophy demonstrate that the problem of the One and the Many cannot be resolved by autonomous reason. Whether irrationalists precede rationalists (as in antiquity) or rationalists precede irrationalists (as in modernity), the trajectory is the same: a monumental effort at synthesis (Plato, Kant), followed by collapse into irrationalism (Neoplatonism, existentialism).

The reason for these repeated failures is not simply intellectual miscalculation but a deeper epistemological defect. Each attempt sought to establish truth apart from the source of truth, God Himself.

Both Plato and Kant assumed that human reason could discover the ultimate harmony of unity and diversity while bracketing the question of God’s existence or treating it as secondary. In this framework, truth becomes uncertain, precarious, and unstable, because it is detached from the one true foundation: the self-revealing Triune God.

By refusing to presuppose God’s self-attesting revelation, philosophy is left to oscillate endlessly between rationalism and empiricism, unity and plurality, permanence and flux.

Only when truth is sought in submission to the ordered control of creation’s diversity—as revealed through Scripture, through the created order, and through the innate knowledge of God impressed upon every human heart—can the One and the Many be reconciled without contradiction.

The history of philosophy can be read as a long series of attempts to resolve the tension between the One and the Many without reference to divine revelation. From Plato to Hegel, philosophers have constructed intricate metaphysical systems to reconcile unity and diversity, permanence and change, necessity and freedom. Each has enjoyed temporary success, often producing monumental insights that shaped entire eras of thought. Yet in every case, the edifice has collapsed. The reason is not simply that each thinker made minor intellectual errors, but that the very foundation upon which their systems were built was fatally flawed: all of them sought truth apart from the source of truth, the Triune God.

1. Plato and Aristotle

Plato’s theory of Forms was perhaps the most brilliant attempt in antiquity to harmonize Heraclitean flux with Parmenidean permanence. The eternal Forms provided the unity and permanence that reason demanded, while the sensible realm, as a world of becoming, accounted for diversity and change. Yet Plato’s system faltered on the problem of participation: how do the many particulars “share in” or “imitate” the one Form without collapsing either the multiplicity of the sensible realm or the unity of the intelligible realm? The “third man argument” exposed this weakness, revealing that the Forms could not finally explain the relation between unity and diversity.

Aristotle responded by grounding universals within particulars, making them immanent rather than transcendent. His doctrine of substance, as the union of form and matter, sought to balance unity and multiplicity. Yet Aristotle’s resolution also proved unstable, since the immanent universal does not fully satisfy the rational demand for permanence and necessity. Moreover, Aristotle’s framework could not ultimately prevent the drift toward a universe that is eternal but impersonal, leaving unity and diversity precariously related.

Both Plato and Aristotle, while monumental, failed because they attempted to explain the order of reality without reference to the God who created and sustains it. Their search for universals was severed from the one true Universal: the eternal Logos.

2. Kant and Hegel

Kant’s “Copernican Revolution” sought to reconcile the rationalist–empiricist conflict by locating necessity not in transcendent Forms but in the categories of the human mind. By this device, he imposed unity and order upon sensory diversity, making experience possible. Yet Kant’s solution came at a steep cost. The noumenal realm was consigned to unknowability, and freedom was exiled there as a postulate of practical reason. The synthesis held only so long as one accepted a dualism between phenomena and noumena. This dualism, however, rendered ultimate reality inaccessible, leaving knowledge restricted to appearances.

Hegel sought to overcome Kant’s dualism by means of dialectical logic. For Hegel, unity and diversity, permanence and change, necessity and freedom, are reconciled in the Absolute Spirit through historical development. His system was arguably the most ambitious attempt in modernity to integrate the One and the Many. Yet it too collapsed under its own weight. The dialectic, intended as the final resolution of contradiction, generated an ever-expanding totality that required irrational leaps. Post-Hegelian philosophy splintered into existentialism, nihilism, and subjectivism—forms of modern Neoplatonism in which the search for unity dissolves into the irrational affirmation of diversity.

Kant and Hegel, like Plato and Aristotle, failed because they sought to explain order, freedom, unity, and diversity within a framework that bracketed the existence of God. They treated the possibility of divine revelation as unnecessary or irrelevant, presuming that human reason could provide its own foundation. In doing so, they built elaborate systems of thought upon shifting sand.

3. The Structural Failure of Autonomy

The repeated collapse of these philosophical syntheses reveals a deeper pattern: autonomous reason is structurally incapable of resolving the One and the Many. Whenever man begins his search for truth from himself, he oscillates endlessly between two poles:

Rationalism, which privileges unity, necessity, and permanence, but at the cost of denying the reality of multiplicity and change.
Empiricism, which privileges diversity, contingency, and flux, but at the cost of undermining the stability of knowledge and the possibility of truth.

Each side is partial, and every attempted synthesis—whether Platonic, Aristotelian, Kantian, or Hegelian—proves temporary. Without revelation, human thought cannot provide a non-contradictory reconciliation of unity and diversity.

The failure is not due to lack of genius. Plato, Aristotle, Kant, and Hegel are among the greatest minds in history. The failure arises because they sought truth in a world where God “might or might not” exist, rather than beginning with the presupposition of God’s self-attesting revelation. By placing human reason at the center, they treated creation as if its order and diversity could be explained independently of the Creator.

4. The True Presupposition

The Christian faith, however, declares that all men already know God (Rom. 1:19–20). He has revealed Himself in Scripture, in nature, and in the innate knowledge impressed upon every human heart. Truth is not something to be discovered in autonomy, but something to be received in dependence. The order and diversity of creation are not brute facts to be explained by reason alone; they are the handiwork of the Triune God who reveals Himself clearly and persuasively.

Thus, the One and the Many cannot be reconciled apart from the presupposition that God exists and has spoken. Any system that seeks to “test” whether God might or might not exist already ensures its own failure, for it places human reason above the divine revelation that grounds all knowledge.

5. Pivot to the Theological Resolution

The comparison of philosophical attempts therefore demonstrates that no purely human synthesis can succeed. The ancient arc (Heraclitus → Parmenides → Plato → Neoplatonism) and the modern arc (Descartes/Spinoza/Leibniz → Locke/Berkeley/Hume → Kant → Hegel → existentialism) both tell the same story: the failure of autonomy, the instability of human systems, and the collapse into irrationalism.

The resolution must come from outside philosophy’s autonomous quest. It must be grounded in the self-attesting revelation of the Triune God. Only in the ontological Trinity—where there is eternal unity of essence and eternal diversity of persons—is the One and the Many harmonized without contradiction. Only in the Word of God is human knowledge secured, because only there is reality disclosed as it truly is.

When we turn from anti-theistic philosophy’s futile attempts to theology’s final resolution. In the Reformed presuppositional tradition, particularly through the insights of Cornelius Van Til and John Frame, we will see how the self-attesting ontological Trinity and tri-perspectival epistemology provide the true and ultimate answer to the problem of the One and the Many.