Continuing our look at Daniel 2. . .
“Next (“another”), a third kingdom, one of bronze, will rule over the whole earth” (2:39). Daniel’s explanation again uses an Aramaic term of sequencing, this time making it clear that the third kingdom corresponds to the third metal on the statue, bronze. In Daniel 8, the kingdom that replaces Medo-Persia is Greece.
“Finally, there will be a fourth kingdom, strong as iron–for iron breaks and smashes everything–and as iron breaks things to pieces, so it will crush and break all the others” (2:40). The “finally” here is supplied by the translators of the NIV. The Aramaic term is the simple conjunctive. But “finally” is not an inappropriate translation, as the movement to the fourth and final kingdom in the series is explicit in the passage. The association of this fourth kingdom with iron also makes the correlation between the metals on the statue and the sequence of historical kingdoms clear.
The move to the fifth stage of iron and clay again lacks a sequencing term, but by this stage in the vision the progression is clear enough without continual repetition. The vision portrays a series of historical stages beginning with the time of the “prophet” Nebuchadnezzar. “Just as you saw that the feet and toes were partly of baked clay and partly of iron, so this will be a divided kingdom; yet it will have some of the strength of iron in it, even as you saw iron mixed with clay” (2:41). Interestingly, the transition to the fifth stage differs from the others in that the fourth kingdom is not replaced by a more powerful one, but seems to disintegrate into a divided and weakened condition.
The mention of clay at this point in the vision is rather startling. Doukhan notes that clay is an unexpected material after the metals, indicating a power or powers of a different nature than those that came before. He sees the clay as pointing to a religious connotation in contrast to the political nature of the metallic kingdoms. The clay here may reflect an allusion to Adam, the human creature who was made from clay (Gen 2:7; 3:19). Adam owed his existence to the divine potter (Isa 64:8; Jer 18:6ff.). Doukhan believes that this is foretaste of the appearance of the human-featured little horn in Dan 7:8 and 25.
The climax of the vision and its interpretation comes in Dan 2:44, “In the time of those kings (literally “in the days of those kings”), the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that will never be destroyed. . . .” “In the days of those kings” can be understood in two ways. Since the kingdom of iron and clay is referred to in the singular (2:41-42), the plural of verse 44 could be understood to refer to all four of the kingdoms together. This would imply that the course of history will continue unbroken until the coming of the divine kingdom represented by the stone. The spirit of the earlier kingdoms lives on in the later ones. More likely the “kings” refer to pieces of the divided kingdom of iron and clay. In this case, it would be clear that the coming of the stone kingdom is after the reign of the four major kingdoms and during the time of division between strong and weak. The coming of the stone kingdom is the final event of the vision, the one that brings the whole course of history to an end.
The vision of Daniel 2, then, is an apocalyptic prophecy with a clear historical sequence running from the time of the prophet down to the end of earth’s history, the establishment of the kingdom of God. The explanation, grounded in the language, time and place of Daniel and Nebuchadnezzar, clearly marks out the sequence of events that moves the reader from the time when the prophecy was given to the time when history comes to its end. In Daniel 2, therefore, the basic characteristics of historical apocalyptic are firmly and exegetically set in place.
Tag Archives: apocalyptic
Interpreting Biblical Apocalyptic (17): The Adventist Approach to Daniel
Any exegetical defense of historicism must begin with the clearest biblical example, found in Daniel chapter 2. While the text is quite familiar to Adventists, it bears another look, for it is foundational to an understanding of apocalyptic prophecy. The story of Daniel 2 clearly fits the definition of apocalyptic literature generally accepted today, and is of the historical sub-category. It contains a revelation delivered in a narrative framework, and that revelation is given directly by God (an otherworldly being) to Daniel and Nebuchadnezzar, the human recipients. The vision and its interpretation disclose a transcendent temporal reality regarding eschatological salvation, and reveal the spatial reality of God’s will and purposes in the supernatural world.
Unless one approaches Daniel 2 with the assumption that it is outlining history after the fact, it seems clear that Nebuchadnezzar’s vision portrays a chain of empires, beginning with the time of the prophet, and running the course of history all the way to its eschatological climax.
The story of Daniel 2 begins with a sleepless night for King Nebuchadnezzar (Dan 2:1). He was worried about the future and God gives him dreams which unpack that future (Dan 2:29). After futile attempts to get help from his closest advisors, Nebuchadnezzar turns to Daniel, the Hebrew prophet. Daniel testifies that the future is unknown to human beings, no matter how intelligent nor how connected to the occult (Dan 2:27– these same wise men are forced to agree, 2:10-11). There is a God in heaven, however, who is fully able to reveal what will happen in days to come, including the final events of history (“at the end of days,” Dan 2:28).
The dream is about a large statue, an idol, made from a succession of metals, declining in value (from gold to iron) but increasing in strength as you move from the head to the foot of the image (2:31-33). The feet of the statue are made of a mixture of iron and clay (2:33). At the end of the dream a supernatural rock smashes into the feet of the image, breaking the whole image to pieces (2:34). The pieces are then swept away by the wind, while the rock grows into a mountain that fills the whole earth (2:35).
While the vision of the statue carries Nebuchadnezzar to end of earth’s history, however, the explanation of the vision by Daniel is firmly grounded in the time and place of Nebuchadnezzar. All expressions are appropriate to a conversation being held in a king’s palace around 600 BC. The interpretation begins with a straightforward, unambiguous assertion, “You are that head of gold” (Dan 2:38). The interpretation grounds the beginning of that prophecy in the situation of Nebuchadnezzar’s time and place. That the head of gold is not limited to Nebuchadnezzar personally, but represents his whole kingdom becomes clear in that all the succeeding metals represent whole kingdoms, not just a series of kings. Nebuchadnezzar is addressed as the representative of his kingdom. The comment that the fourth kingdom will be “strong as iron” suggests that the various metals were designed to portray specific characteristics of each of the kingdoms.
The next stage in the prophecy is also clear. “After you, another kingdom will arise, inferior to yours” (2:39). This second kingdom clearly comes on the stage after the time of Nebuchadnezzar. While the text does not explicitly state that this kingdom is represented by the silver of the statue, the inferior nature of the kingdom is appropriate to such a movement. The transition between Nebuchadnezzar’s kingdom and the following one is marked by the story in Daniel 5. Babylon is followed by Medo-Persia.
To be continued.
Interpreting Biblical Apocalyptic (16): The Uniqueness of Biblical Apocalyptic II
Non-canonical apocalyptic is different from biblical apocalyptic in that it spoke to a time when people believed that the prophetic spirit had been silenced (Ps 74:9; 1 Macc 4:44-46; 14:41, cf. mAboth 1:1). Without the gift of prophecy it would be impossible for anyone to write history in advance. Nevertheless, the historical time periods of ex eventu prophecy reflected the conviction that a true prophet such as Enoch, Moses, or Ezra would be capable of outlining history in advance.
Since John, the author of Revelation, believed that through Christ the prophetic spirit had returned (Rev 1:3; 19:9-10; 22:6-10), he would have every reason to believe that the cosmic Christ could reveal to him the general outline of events between the advents. The return of genuine prophets would signal the return of predictive prophecy. In the Book of Revelation the name John is not a pseudonym. The Book of Revelation is genuine, not ex eventu, prophecy and needs to be addressed differently than non-canonical apocalyptic. Although written to the immediate time and place of the seven churches of Asia Minor (Rev 1:3,11), Revelation also spoke to their future, the things which would happen “after these things” (Rev 1:19). Adventists believe that most of the seven churches’ future is now history to us.
Since the concept of predictive prophecy is grounded in the inspiration and authority of the Scriptures, it should not surprise anyone that the vast majority of Biblical interpreters throughout Christian history believed in predictive prophecy and felt that Daniel and Revelation in some way offered an outline of Christian history leading to the end of the world. Adventists, like them, see no indication in the text of Daniel and Revelation that its events were to be confined to the distant past. They understand Daniel to address the entire course of history from his time until the end. They understand that the Book of Revelation speaks to the time of the seven churches, to the events of the very end of history, and also to significant movements in the course of the history that runs between those two great standpoints.
In saying this about Revelation it is not necessary to claim that John himself, or any of the other writers of the New Testament, foresaw the enormous length of the Christian era, the time between the first and second advents of Jesus. Our Lord certainly could have come in the first century if He had wished to do so. In a real sense, the New Testament treats the first advent of Jesus as eschatology in the highest sense. There is a consistent tension in the NT, therefore, between the sense that the last days had already come, and that there was yet to be a delay of some sort. The passage of time since the first century has opened up new vistas in terms of the Lord’s patience and purpose. Having foreseen the delay, would not God prepare His people to understand the major events by which He is bringing history to its climax?
Our lack of foresight should certainly introduce an element of caution into any interpretation of the “periods of history” that Adventists find in the books of Daniel and Revelation. Only from the perspective of the Parousia will history speak with perfect clarity. We will need to avoid the kind of historicizing interpretation which emphasizes minute details and “newspaper” exegesis, while ignoring the plain meaning of the symbols in their original context. Adventists believe, however, that the broad sweep of Christian history was both known to God and revealed in principle through his servants the prophets (Amos 3:7).
Interpreting Biblical Apocalyptic (15): The Uniqueness of Biblical Apocalyptic
As noted above, critical scholars approach the books of Daniel and Revelation with the assumption that they are similar in character to the non-biblical apocalypses. According to John J. Collins, for example, the burden of proof must fall on those who wish to argue that Daniel is different in character from other examples of the genre. While many critical scholars today argue that Revelation (unlike Daniel in their opinion) is a genuine prophecy, they do not see in Revelation a window into the mind of a God who knows the end from the beginning.
Adventists are in serious disagreement with both a rejection of the special character of biblical apocalyptic and of the predictive nature of some of the utterances found in it. SDAs believe that God “knows the end from the beginning” and is well able to announce ahead of time “what is yet to come” through the Holy Spirit (Isa 46:10; John 16:13). While acknowledging the existence of pseudo-authorship and ex eventu prophecy in non-biblical apocalyptic, Adventists believe that the inspired apocalyptic of the Bible is substantively different.
The narrative setting of the book of Daniel is clearly in the courts of Babylon and Persia in the 6th Century BC. That was a time in history when the gift of prophecy was also exhibited in the work of Jeremiah and Ezekiel among others. Arguments for a sixth-century date of Daniel include: 1) The way Daniel handles months and years almost unknown in the writings of the second century BC, but quite common in the sixth. 2) The Aramaic of Daniel is much more like the Aramaic of the Persian period (Daniel’s time) than that of the Qumran scrolls (shortly after the time of Antiochus Epiphanes, the context of a second century date). 3) A case can be made that some of the Daniel manuscripts at Qumran are older than the time of Antiochus. 4) Daniel’s awareness of Belshazzar’s existence and position, something unknown in the second century. 5) Evidence from the field of archaeology is much more supportive of a sixth-century date than a second-century one (for more on this see the work of Gerhard Hasel in volume 2 of the DARCOM series, pages 38-44 and 98-100). The date when the book was written is, however, the crucial issue regarding the two Adventist assumptions, as few critical scholars question that Dan 11 includes a remarkably accurate portrayal of certain events in the fourth, third and second centuries before Christ.
A side note on the date of Daniel. According to John J. Collins (Daniel with an Introduction to Apocalyptic Literature, 34), any discussion of apocalyptic must distinguish between the ostensible setting which is given in the text and the actual settings in which it was composed and used. The ostensible setting of Daniel is clearly the courts of Babylon and Persia in the sixth century BC. Critical scholars point out that in ancient times already, Porphyry pointed out that the predictions in Daniel 11 are correct down to (but not including) the death of Antiochus Epiphanes (mid-second-century BC), but are thereafter incorrect or unfulfilled (ibid., 36). This phenomenon of partial accuracy is common to all non-biblical apocalyptic. So critical scholars like Collins suggest that the burden of proof must fall on whose who wish to argue that Daniel is different from other examples of the genre (ibid., 34). Collins, for one, is open to the possibility that the court narratives of Dan 1-6 are earlier than the second-century, the crucial issue for him and us, obviously, is the authenticity of the predictions in Dan 7-12.
What critical scholars are not so quick to point out is that Porphyry was a pagan opponent of Christianity who was seeking to demonstrate its inauthenticity. Since predictive prophecy is a powerful evidence for the validity of the Bible, Christianity’s sacred text, Porphyry interpreted Daniel as a hostile witness, seeking to demonstrate that the crucial historical sequences of Daniel were all written after the fact. Christian readers of Daniel in Porphyry’s time and before (Irenaeus, Hippolytus and possibly Barnabas– see Froom, vol. 1, 210, 244-246, 272-273) actually had no difficulty seeing the prophecies of Daniel being accurately fulfilled in Rome, two centuries after the time when Porphyry (and the critical scholars with him) claimed that the book of Daniel was written. Collins’ burden of proof claim has some validity and can be answered (cf. Hasel in previous footnote), but the primary reality driving the late date position for Daniel is disbelief in predictive prophecy. If one doesn’t believe that divine revelations could result in genuine and accurate predictions, one must find some other explanation for the stunning accuracy of the predictions in Dan 11.
Interpreting Biblical Apocalyptic (14): Apocalyptic Symbolism II
How does one go about interpreting symbols? The best outline of an answer to this question is found in the introduction to G. K. Beale’s commentary on Revelation. First of all, it is important to recognize the way different types of symbolic expressions function. A metaphor, for example, is “a deliberate transgression of a word’s boundaries of meaning.” If one were to say, as Jesus did, “Peter is a rock,” you are transgressing the boundary between a living thing and an inanimate object. You are applying a characteristic of the object, rock, to the man, Peter. While metaphor transgresses the boundaries of both Peter and rock, one’s description of Peter is enriched by the comparison.
While the metaphor, Peter is a rock, is fairly straightforward, Beale points out that symbols are often multiple in meaning, resisting simplicity of comparison. For example, the phrase, “George is a wolf,” may imply that a certain young man is a potentially dangerous sexual predator. But an author could also use that expression to say that George is a dangerous criminal who hurts people and should be feared. But comparison between a man and a wolf could equally focus on the cunning, quickness, and/or relentlessness of wolves in the wild. Such multiple meanings are very common in Revelation. The concept of water, for example, (implied as well as stated) can be a metaphor for washing (Rev 7:15-17), for nutrition (positive: Rev 22:10; negative: Rev 8:11), for power and destruction (Rev 9:14; 17:15) and for something that forms a barrier (Rev 16:12; perhaps 21:1). In such cases the context in which the symbol comes needs to inform the reader as to which of the many possible meanings is to be understood.
A related principle for interpreting symbols is that once a given meaning for a symbol is established in a given work, that same meaning normally carries on to repeated uses of that same symbol later on in the book, unless the context of a later usage points the way to some different understanding in that setting. Where the meaning of a symbol is not provided in a work, it is important to survey the way that symbol was used elsewhere in the literature of the ancient world up to that time. The symbols of Daniel, for example, should be examined where they appear in earlier and contemporary writings of the Old Testament. Valuable information can also be found in the evidence of extra-biblical literature and archaeological artifacts. For the book of Revelation potential backgrounds for a given symbol include the Old Testament in its entirety and the literature and archaeology of the entire ancient world, including Judaism and the Hellenistic culture of the Greco-Roman world. Lay scholars of Daniel and Revelation can access such information in critical commentaries and such resources as Bible dictionaries, scholarly lexicons, and concordances.
Another way to interpret symbols is examine the degree of correspondence between the picture evoked by the symbol and the literal subject of the symbol. In the comparison “George is a wolf” the humanity of subject of the comparison excludes such wolfly associations as fur, pointed ears, and large teeth. Unless George exhibited such characteristics to a considerably greater degree than most humans, it is likely that comparing him to a wolf is restricted to some aspect of the wolf’s behavior rather than its appearance.
How can one detect the presence of a symbol? Beale notes at least six ways. (1) The formal linking of two words of totally different meaning, “the seven lampstands are the seven churches.” (2) The use of a key descriptive term to alert the reader to the presence of some unusual meaning, “the mystery of the seven stars.” (3) The impossibility of a literal interpretation, “I ate the book.” (4) A statement that would be outrageously false or contradictory is taken literally, “my two witnesses are the two olive trees and the two lampstands.” (5) Context that renders a literal interpretation probably. (6) Clear and repeated figurative use of the same word elsewhere in the book. Beale notes that the last of these is probably the most consistently helpful.
Another aspect of apocalyptic symbolism mentioned by Beale is the use of numbers, which are to be taken as symbols more often than not. Beale notes that seven is the number of completeness, while four represents an extension of that concept to something universal or worldwide in scope. Twelve represents unity in diversity as in the one nation Israel that is composed of twelve tribes. Ten also represents completeness. In addition to obvious uses of numbers, the book of Revelation is often organized in patterns of fours and sevens. So in Revelation the interpreter needs to give attention not only to the numbers in the book, but to also count groupings of symbols, which may have an extended meaning as a result.
Interpreting Biblical Apocalyptic (13): Apocalyptic Symbolism
Apocalyptic works in general, and the biblical books of Daniel and Revelation in particular, are characterized by the use of symbols to convey truth. In the books of Daniel and Revelation horns and eagles speak, iron can be mixed with clay, leopards can have four heads, and dragons can chase women through the sky! A symbol is any object or description that represents something other than its common meaning. By their very nature, symbols express a double meaning. There is a literal intention; the primary meaning the term has in everyday life. Then there is a second intention; the literal points beyond itself to a second meaning that is evident only in relation to the first meaning. These two meanings can even be opposite! In the book of Revelation the lion is a lamb, death is a victory, and the victim is the victor!
The very vagueness of symbols opens up the possibility of near infinite depth of expression. This makes apocalyptic books both difficult and rich in meaning at the same time. The same symbol can have different meanings in different contexts. Symbolism is a more flexible tool for the portrayal of reality than is ordinary prose. To interpret a given symbol in its context it is necessary to compare the possible meanings inherent in its double intentionality with the literary context in which it is used.
That symbolism is the main literary form of expression in the visions of Daniel is evident from the very first. In Dan 2:45 the strategy of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream/vision is expressed as follows: “This is the meaning of the vision of the rock cut out of a mountain, but not by human hands– a rock that broke the iron, the bronze, the clay, the silver and the gold to pieces. The great God has shown (esȇmane) the king what will take place in the future. The dream is true and the interpretation is trustworthy.” The vision of Dan 2 is a pictorial representation of events that were to occur in Nebuchadnezzar’s present and future. The Greek translator of Daniel (LXX) uses to word semainô to express that God “had symbolized” to the king what would take place in the future.
The Book of Revelation opens with a clear allusion to Daniel 2. The language of Rev 1:1 picks up not only on Dan 2:45 and its use of semainô but also the language of “revelation. . . God showed. . . what must come to pass” found in Dan 2:28-30. This allusion to Dan 2 makes it clear that the entire book of Revelation is couched in symbolism as a primary method of communication. Whereas in the rest of the New Testament the language is to be taken as literal unless careful investigation indicates that a symbol is intended, in Revelation the opposite is the case. The language of Revelation is to be taken as symbolic or figurative unless careful investigation indicates that the language must be understood in literal terms. Recognizing that the Apocalypse of John uses symbols and their interpretation as the medium of the message is a fundamental aspect of correct interpretation of the book.
Interpreting Biblical Apocalyptic (12): From Exegesis to Application—Historicism
The historicist method understands the prophecies of Daniel and Revelation to meet their fulfillments in historical time through a sequence of events running from the prophet’s time down to the establishment of God’s kingdom at the end of the world. This appears to be the way that the ancients interpreted these prophecies. The historicist method was fairly standard throughout the Protestant world from the time of the Reformation through the first half of the 19th Century. This method was taken over by the Adventist pioneers and has continued to be the standard approach ever since, even though it has become increasingly rejected by biblical scholarship outside the denomination.
On the negative side, historicist interpretation has often been plagued by a number of faults. There is a tendency to pay much more attention to history and to the newspapers than to the exegesis of the biblical text. For example, see Uriah Smith on the trumpets (475-517). In the course of 42 pages of interpretation there is but one single exegetical statement. Verses are printed according to the King James Version followed by pages of historical detail without a single reference back to the text or its background in the Old Testament. Sixty-two percent of the text is in quotation marks, being culled from earlier non-Adventist historicist writers. This leads to the suspicion the Brother Smith himself never did any serious work in the text. In addition, the desire to locate just where we are in the course of history has often led historicists to unhealthy attempts at date-setting and manipulation of the text in service of theological agendas. And the use of history, there has been a huge difference of opinion as to just what events in history are a fulfillment of just what symbolism. It is problems such as these, along with critical bias against the concept of predictive prophecy, that caused the general demise of historicism, to the point where in scholarly discussions today, the possibility never even comes up.
Given the difficulties with historicism why bother with it any more? What difference does it make? Why would it be worth the trouble to defend in a world that is mainly concerned with the “now?” Well, for one thing, historicism remains the primary approach that is used in Adventist evangelism. The way our fundamental beliefs are presented to the public is intertwined with a historicist approach to Daniel and Revelation. To abandon the method out of convenience is to call into question the entire basis upon which millions have chosen to align themselves with the Adventist movement. For this reason alone, it would be unwise to relinquish the approach casually. If it must be put to rest, let it only be on the basis of overwhelming and compelling biblical evidence.
A second reason to hang on to historicism, if it is intellectually credible to do so, is that it provides a solid basis for confidence in the future work of God. Just as the historical reality that Jesus was raised from the dead gives us confidence that we too will one day be raised from the dead, so the recognition of prophetic fulfillments in the past offers confidence that the last events of this earth’s history will also occur according to the plan of God. To move to a totally futurist approach in search of greater clarity regarding unfulfilled events is to abandon the basis for confidence that unfulfilled prophecy will in fact occur, as it has in the past.
A third reason to seek support for a continued use of historicist method is that it is also central to the whole concept of Adventist self-understanding and identity. Adventists are not particularly kinder than other Christians, they are not more Christ-centered or gospel-oriented than other Christians, they are not less prone to sexual or physical abuse, nor are they less subject to addictions in the broadest sense of the term. The Adventist claim to a unique, end-time role in God’s plan for the close of earth’s history is grounded in careful attention to the apocalyptic prophecies of Daniel and Revelation. To abandon these, and/or to abandon the method that brought us where we are, is, to a large degree, to abandon our self-understanding and identity. Few movements have ever survived the loss of core identity.
Interpreting Biblical Apocalyptic (11): From Exegesis to Application—Futurism
The futurist approach to apocalyptic prophecy, particularly to Revelation, sees the fulfillment of most of Revelation being restricted to a short period of time still future to our own day. In its dispensational form, this approach limits most of Revelation to the last seven years of earth’s history, following a secret rapture of Christians. Even within the Adventist context, increasing numbers of Bible students are seeking end-time understandings in every corner of Daniel and Revelation.
On the positive side, there are clearly many aspects of Daniel and Revelation that were intended to portray the far future from the perspective of the prophets’ time and place (Dan 2:44-45; 8:26; 11:40; 12:4,13; Rev 1:19; 6:15-17; 7:15-17; 19:11-21; 21:1-22:5). Most of what these passages portray has not occurred to this day. So an examination of Daniel and Revelation without an openness to understanding of future events would be an inappropriate limitation on the divine supervision of these books.
Approaches to Daniel and Revelation that limit the meaning of most of the text to end-time events, however, have consistently proven to claim more than they can deliver. Dispensationalism trumpets a literal approach to the Bible, yet imposes a system upon biblical interpretation that forces texts into molds which resist sound exegesis of those same texts. Adventist forms of futurism tend toward an allegorism of dual or multiple applications that quickly lose touch with the original setting and context of the prophecies. A futurism that ignores the cues in the text in the name of relevance, ends up abandoning the text for a contemporary system. An appropriate search for unfulfilled prophecy will always ground itself in the original meaning of the prophecy.
Interpreting Biblical Apocalyptic (10): From Exegesis to Application—Preterism/Idealism
The above study demonstrates the vital importance of understanding the original context in which apocalyptic visions were given their setting. The divine and human intentions of the text’s language must be respected. Nevertheless, if apocalyptic texts do reflect a predictive element, later readers of those texts are challenged to understand just how those predictions apply to the course of subsequent human history. There are three main approaches to this problem. We will look at each of these briefly.
Preterism/Idealism
Preterist scholars tend to limit the value of apocalyptic texts to the original time and place. In their view exegesis of apocalyptic texts helps us gain a better understanding of the world in which the texts came into existence. Books like Daniel and Revelation were written to their time and place and need to be understood within that context. The primary focus is not on prediction of future events, but on analysis of the situation in which and to which the apocalypse was written. Principles drawn from exegesis of the text in its original situation can be applied by believers to later situations (this application of principles in apocalyptic literature is often known as “idealism”).
On the positive side, preterism/idealism is the approach that most believing Christians (including Adventists) take to the bulk of the biblical materials. The letters of Paul, for example, must be understood as the products of a human writer’s intention reflecting a specific purpose and aimed at a particular audience. To read such letters as if they were philosophical treatises with a universal purpose is clearly inappropriate. Nevertheless, in recognizing God’s purpose in including these letters in the Bible, we feel free to draw principles from Paul’s letters and apply them to our own time and place as the Word of God. When done with sensitivity to the original context, this is entirely appropriate for Paul’s letters and also for parts of Daniel and Revelation. Certainly the seven letters of Revelation suggest that they should be addressed from a preterist/idealist perspective (Rev 1:11; 2:1,7,8.11, etc.).
The problem with preterism/idealism comes in when it is imposed on apocalyptic texts that cry out for other approaches. Biblical scholars are human beings. Whether or not the scholar is conscious of the fact, psychological and spiritual motivations may drive a person to reject the plain implications of the biblical text. Some scholars may limit interpretation to preterism because it does not require a belief in inspiration and predictive prophecy. Others may do so because their scientific training inclines them to reject the possibility of the supernatural in any form. Roman Catholic scholars at one point in history turned to radical preterism in order to deflect the pointed historicist interpretations of Dan 7 and Rev 13 made by Luther and other protestants. While preterist interpretation has value in its proper place, Adventists rightly reject placing psychological or scientific limits on how the Word of God should be understood. Preterism/idealism alone is not an adequate approach to apocalyptic prophecy.
Interpreting Biblical Apocalyptic (9): Safeguards for Apocalyptic Scholars III
4) Focus on General Reading
A fourth major safeguard to apocalyptic interpretation is to spend the majority of one’s study time reading the Bible rather than searching through a concordance. An obsession with the various details of the Bible can lead one away from its central thrust. Without safeguards the use of a concordance may cause us to focus on texts apart from their contexts.
When you read biblical books from beginning to end the biblical author is in control of the order and flow of the material. The author leads you naturally from one idea to the next, so your exposure to the Bible is not controlled by any need arising from within yourself or from your background. Broad reading of the Bible, therefore, anchors the interpreter in the intentions of the original writers and helps the interpreter to get the “big picture” view that provides the best safeguard against bizarre interpretations of its isolated parts. General reading naturally encourages a teachable spirit and helps you see the text as it was intended to be read. The Bible is not supposed to learn from us; we are supposed to learn from the Bible.
This aspect of a “life hermeneutic” is particularly important in the computer age. Computers have been a great blessing to Bible study. But there is a dark side to their use. Thanks to the computer it is possible to spend hundreds of hours in “Bible study” without ever actually reading the Bible itself. The meanings you can draw from such study may be extremely impressive, yet have nothing to do with the original writer’s intention. It can be like taking a pair of scissors and cutting fifty texts out of your Bible, tossing them like a salad in a bowl, and finally pulling them out one by one and saying, “This sequence is from the Lord.” Whether the concordance is a print version or is computerized, the process puts the interpreter in control of how the Biblical text impacts on his or her understanding of truth.
The use of a concordance is an important piece in an overall hermeneutic for biblical study. But we need to keep in mind that when we use a concordance we are in control of what where we go and what we learn, whereas in broad reading the biblical writers are in control. In concordance study there is the danger of losing the forest in the midst of all the trees. Unless we spend the majority of our time in broad reading of the Bible, we will tend manipulate the text in service of our own agenda, even though we do not intend to do so.
5) The Criticism of Peers
Finally it is vital, in the study of apocalyptic as well as other biblical texts, to give careful attention to the criticism of peers (people who give similar attention to the Bible as you do), especially those who disagree with you or who are competent in the original languages and the tools of exegesis. One of the biggest problems in Biblical understanding is that each of us has a natural bent to self-deception (Jer 17:9). That self-deception runs so deep that sometimes, even if you are using the original text, praying, and doing a lot of general reading in the clear texts of the Bible, it is still possible to end up in a completely bizarre place. The best antidote to self-deception is to constantly subject one’s own understandings to the criticism of others who are making equally rigorous efforts to understand those texts.
It may be painful to listen to that kind of criticism. Nevertheless, such criticisms are particularly valuable when they come from people we naturally disagree with. People who disagree with us see things in the text that we would never see because of our particular blind spots and defense mechanisms. A sister in the church may be just as unteachable as I am, but if she has a different set of blind spots than I do, she will see things in the text that I would miss and I will see things that she would miss.
No one who studies the Bible with earnest prayer and self-distrust will want to ignore the apocalyptic parts of the Bible, just because they are difficult. On the contrary, those who saturate themselves in the big picture of the Bible that comes from broad reading of the clear texts, corrected by vigorous listening to others, will gain two great benefits as a result. They will stay out of the pit of sensationalism and date-setting. And they will enjoy the wonderful sense of assurance and identity that comes when one better understands the steady and reliable workings of God in human history.