Wednesday, October 29, 2025

A Biblical Critique of Hosea Ballou’s Theology of Atonement, Wrath, and Covenant Judgment

By William M. Brennan, Th.D., Reformed Universalist Theological Seminary

I. Introduction

Among the early American Universalists, few figures exerted greater influence than Hosea Ballou (1771–1852). Through his Treatise on Atonement (1805), Ballou became the chief architect of a rationalist and moral-influence Universalism that rejected both Trinitarian orthodoxy and the penal, substitutionary character of the atonement. His God was benevolent but never wrathful; His justice was moral suasion, not judicial holiness. Ballou’s system sought to vindicate divine goodness by abolishing wrath and reinterpreting the cross as revelation rather than redemption.

Yet, by removing wrath, Ballou removed the moral gravity of sin; by rejecting substitution, he dissolved the gospel’s heart. Scripture’s portrait of God—holy, covenantal, and redemptively wrathful—cannot be reconciled with Ballou’s sentimental Deism. The same divine love that saves also judges; the same fire that refines also consumes. This essay critiques Ballou’s view in light of Scripture, demonstrating that God’s wrath, far from contradicting love, is its necessary and restorative expression.

II. Hosea Ballou’s Theology Summarized

Ballou advanced several key propositions that define his departure from biblical orthodoxy:

Sin as ignorance, not depravity. Ballou denied original sin and insisted that human beings are not fallen but misinformed. Evil arises from misunderstanding rather than rebellion.
Atonement as moral influence. The cross is not a propitiation satisfying divine justice but a revelation of God’s love persuading humanity to repentance.
Reconciliation one-sided. God was never alienated from man; only man needed reconciliation.
No wrath, no punishment. Because God is love, He can never be wrathful. All suffering is natural consequence, not judicial penalty.
Universal restoration by enlightenment. Eventually, all souls will see the truth and return to God freely.

These assertions form a system that divorces salvation from covenant, grace from judgment, and mercy from justice.

III. The Biblical Witness to Divine Wrath

Scripture opens the gospel with wrath, not sentimental affection. Romans 1:18 declares:

“For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who hold the truth in unrighteousness.”

Here wrath (orgē Theou) is not impersonal consequence but the active judgment of a righteous God who hands sinners over to the fruit of their rebellion:

“Wherefore God also gave them up to uncleanness… For this cause God gave them up unto vile affections… And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind” (Rom. 1:24, 26, 28).

The phrase “gave them up” denotes judicial action—God enforcing His moral order, not merely allowing natural effect. Humanity is not ignorant but willfully suppresses known truth (Rom. 1:19–21). Ballou’s moral-educational model cannot account for this culpable defiance.

Likewise, Ephesians 2:3 calls us “by nature the children of wrath,” signifying an inherent condition of alienation. The divine wrath is not caprice; it is holiness opposing corruption. To deny wrath is to deny God’s righteousness.

Hebrews 10:31 solemnly warns:

“It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.”

This is spoken not to pagans but to covenant breakers who “have trodden under foot the Son of God” (Heb. 10:29). Ballou’s claim that God never punishes contradicts the testimony of both Testaments: judgment is the moral outworking of divine holiness.

IV. Wrath and Covenant Judgment in Israel

The covenant history of Israel displays wrath as love’s instrument. From Sinai onward, God’s people were warned that obedience would bring blessing and disobedience curse:

“If ye will not hearken unto me, and will not do all these commandments… I will bring a sword upon you, that shall avenge the quarrel of my covenant: and when ye are gathered together within your cities, I will send the pestilence among you… and I will scatter you among the heathen” (Lev. 26:14, 25, 33).

Israel’s exile was not divine temper but covenant enforcement. Jeremiah 16:10–13 records God’s verdict:

“Because your fathers have forsaken me, saith the LORD… therefore will I cast you out of this land into a land that ye know not.”

This wrath, however, was never final. It was disciplinary, intended to purge idolatry and restore faithfulness. Isaiah 40:1–2 announces the completion of that process:

“Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God. Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned: for she hath received of the LORD’s hand double for all her sins.”

The “double” signifies full satisfaction—the completion of covenant chastisement. Israel “paid double,” not because God delights in punishment, but because justice had achieved its redemptive purpose.

This historical pattern exposes Ballou’s error. Divine wrath is not contrary to mercy; it secures mercy. God’s covenant faithfulness expresses itself both in judgment and in comfort. Without wrath, there would be no exile, no repentance, and no restoration.

V. The Fall and Human Inability

Ballou’s denial of the Fall undermines the biblical diagnosis of the human condition. Romans 5:12 declares:

“Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.”

This is not mere imitation of Adam’s mistake; Paul continues:

“By one man’s disobedience many were made sinners” (Rom. 5:19).

Adam’s guilt is representative and covenantal, just as Christ’s obedience is. Ballou’s reading—“because all individually sin”—ignores the parallelism of Adam and Christ that structures Paul’s thought. The universality of death proves the universality of guilt.

Ephesians 2:1–5 further declares:

“And you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins… But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ.”

Death is more than ignorance; it is inability. Only divine regeneration can restore life. Ballou’s optimistic anthropology renders the new birth unnecessary and contradicts the testimony of Christ:

“Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3).

VI. The Necessity of Substitutionary Atonement

If wrath and guilt are real, then substitution is indispensable. Romans 3:25–26 explains:

“Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins… that he might be just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus.”

The term propitiation (Greek hilastērion) refers to satisfaction of divine justice, echoing the mercy seat where atoning blood was sprinkled. Ballou dismissed this as “barbaric,” yet Scripture exalts it as the heart of the gospel.

Isaiah 53:5–6 prophesies:

“He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.”

The Servant bears divine judgment as substitute, fulfilling the pattern of sacrificial law. Peter confirms:

“Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God” (1 Pet. 3:18).

The cross is therefore both judicial and redemptive: justice satisfied, mercy unleashed. Without substitution, the atonement reveals love but accomplishes nothing.

VII. Judgment as Restorative, Not Merely Consequential

Ballou erred in equating judgment with vindictiveness. Scripture presents judgment as God’s instrument of restoration. Isaiah 26:9 teaches:

“When thy judgments are in the earth, the inhabitants of the world will learn righteousness.”

Likewise, 1 Corinthians 11:32 says,

“When we are judged, we are chastened of the Lord, that we should not be condemned with the world.”

Even divine wrath serves pedagogical grace: it purges sin to reveal righteousness. Hebrews 12:6 adds,

“For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth.”

Thus, wrath is not the opposite of love but its severe form. The same fire that consumed Sodom refines Zion. God’s wrath and mercy operate toward one end—the restoration of holiness throughout creation.

In this sense, a truly biblical universalism must affirm wrath. The final reconciliation of all things (1 Cor. 15:28) comes through judgment, not by ignoring it. “When he hath put down all rule and all authority and power… the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death” (1 Cor. 15:24–26). Death is conquered only because Christ entered wrath and exhausted it.

VIII. The Consequences of Ballou’s Denial

By abolishing wrath and guilt, Ballou’s system unravels Christian theology:

Sin trivialized. If sin is ignorance, repentance becomes education rather than conversion.
Justice denied. Without judgment, moral order collapses; evil has no answer.
The cross emptied. If no penalty is borne, Christ’s death is illustrative, not redemptive.
Covenant severed. Without law and curse, there can be no grace or blessing.
Universalism rendered meaningless. If all are already reconciled, the term “salvation” loses significance.

Biblical universalism, by contrast, affirms both wrath and grace. It sees judgment as the fiery path to restoration. God’s wrath is not eternal torment but temporal and purgative discipline culminating in resurrection and renewal. Ballou, in rejecting wrath, severed the nerve of redemption itself.

IX. Conclusion

From Eden to Babylon to Calvary, Scripture reveals a consistent moral logic: divine wrath is the holy energy of love opposing all that destroys creation. Israel’s exile, the “double payment” of Isaiah 40:2, and Christ’s cross each display the same covenantal pattern—judgment unto mercy.

Ballou’s benevolent deity, incapable of wrath, cannot account for the exile, the cross, or the resurrection. The biblical God is both Judge and Savior. “Behold therefore the goodness and severity of God” (Rom. 11:22). His wrath is not His last word but the means by which His goodness triumphs.

The gospel proclaims that the wrath due to sin fell upon Christ, that death itself was judged, and that through that judgment all will ultimately be made alive. A universalism worthy of Scripture must therefore be Reformed and covenantal: one in which divine love fulfills, not abolishes, divine justice.

In the hands of the living God, wrath becomes restoration, and judgment becomes the doorway to everlasting life.

Notes

Hosea Ballou, A Treatise on Atonement (Boston: 1805), chaps. 5–7.
James Relly, Union; or, A Treatise of the Consanguinity and Affinity between Christ and His Church (London: 1759).
John Murray, Letters and Sketches of Sermons (Boston: 1812), esp. pp. 120–145.
Compare Ballou, Treatise, 17–18, with Romans 1:18–32 and Ephesians 2:1–5.
See Jonathan Edwards, The Justice of God in the Damnation of Sinners (1734), for the classic Reformed defense of divine wrath as moral necessity.
On covenant sanctions, see Leviticus 26; Deuteronomy 28; Jeremiah 16; Ezekiel 36.
Isaiah 40:2 interpreted as “double for all her sins” shows disciplinary completion, not excess punishment.
Romans 5:12–19 and 1 Corinthians 15:22 present federal headship as the framework of redemption.
Romans 3:25–26; cf. Hebrews 9:11–14.
Isaiah 53; 1 Peter 3:18; Galatians 3:13–14.
Isaiah 26:9; Hebrews 12:6; 1 Corinthians 11:32.
Romans 11:22 summarizes the dual nature of divine love—goodness and severity—as essential to true theodicy.

About the Author
Dr. William M. Brennan, Th.D., is the founder of the Reformed Universalist Theological Seminary and author of Hope for the Lost: The Case for Evangelical Universalism. He teaches theology and biblical studies with a focus on covenantal universalism, divine justice, and the problem of evil.

The Tragedy of Freedom: The Historical Drift of Arminianism and Its Failure as a Theodicy

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

I. Introduction

From Augustine to the Remonstrants, the problem of freedom and evil has haunted Christian theology. Arminianism arose in the seventeenth century as a protest against Augustinian determinism, seeking to vindicate God’s goodness through the preservation of libertarian free will. Yet the historical development of the Arminian tradition reveals a tragic irony: in attempting to rescue God from the charge of tyranny, it rendered Him impotent and morally inconsistent. The benevolent deity of Arminian thought permits the eternal ruin of billions to preserve the supposed dignity of creaturely choice. Such a God, far from being loving, appears self-regarding and indifferent.

Moreover, the Arminian reliance upon foreknowledge as the basis of election not only misconstrues the biblical text but evacuates divine sovereignty of meaning. Scripture consistently affirms both human inability and God’s unconditional predestination. The attempt to explain away these doctrines undercuts the very justice and goodness Arminianism sought to defend.

II. The Early Arminian Vision: Grace Restoring a Lost Freedom

Jacobus Arminius (1559–1609) maintained that fallen humanity was totally depraved and incapable of turning to God without divine initiative. His innovation lay in the doctrine of prevenient grace, an influence that precedes conversion and restores sufficient freedom for all persons to respond to God’s call.¹ Grace, in this view, is resistible; the will is synergistic with grace rather than monergistically regenerated.

The Remonstrant Articles of 1610 formally articulated this position, affirming that divine election is conditional upon foreseen faith.² God, according to this scheme, looks down the corridors of time, perceives who will freely believe, and elects them on that basis. Thus election becomes a divine ratification of human choice rather than its cause.

Yet this approach introduces insuperable moral and metaphysical difficulties. It postulates a God who foresees the universal fall, foreknows the eternal damnation of the majority, and nevertheless proceeds with creation—without any plan to redeem the totality of His handiwork. Divine goodness is thereby subordinated to the abstract principle of libertarian freedom.

III. The Wesleyan Refinement and Its Moral Paradox

John Wesley inherited Arminius’s framework but deepened its devotional and moral character. He affirmed total corruption but taught that Christ’s atonement restored prevenient grace to all.³ Salvation thus remains universally accessible yet perpetually resistible. In practice, Wesleyan Arminianism inspired evangelistic fervor and personal holiness, but philosophically it could not resolve the contradiction between divine benevolence and eternal loss. If God’s love is truly universal and His grace sufficient for all, how can He rest while any are finally lost? The divine permission of everlasting ruin becomes indistinguishable from indifference.

IV. The American Devolution: From Grace to Natural Ability

Nineteenth-century American revivalism carried Arminian theology to its logical but disastrous conclusion. Charles Finney (1792–1875) rejected inherited guilt and moral inability, insisting that sinners possess full natural power to repent.⁴ Grace became merely persuasive rather than regenerative. This shift from prevenient to motivational grace marked the transition from theological Arminianism to moralistic voluntarism.

In Finney’s system, divine love ceases to be redemptive power and becomes moral influence. The sinner is no longer dependent upon grace but upon his own decision. What began as a protest against fatalism ended as an exaltation of self-sufficiency. Thus Arminianism devolved into practical Pelagianism.

V. The Inadequacy of Arminian Theodicy

Even in its most sophisticated form, Arminianism fails to justify the ways of God to man. Its deity is omniscient yet chooses to actualize a world in which sin and eternal misery are foreknown and unredeemed. The claim that divine love requires the possibility of rejection empties love of its redemptive content. A parent who permits his children to destroy themselves eternally for the sake of preserving their “freedom” is not loving but callous.

Augustine’s determinism, for all its harshness, limited the experiment of free will to two individuals—Adam and Eve. The Arminian God repeats this experiment with billions, fully aware that most will perish. Thus Arminianism does not mitigate the problem of evil but multiplies it exponentially.

VI. Scriptural Testimony to Human Inability

The biblical witness is unequivocal concerning the moral and spiritual impotence of fallen humanity:

“There is none righteous, no, not one; there is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God” (Rom. 3:10–11, KJV).
“No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him” (John 6:44).
“The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God... neither can he know them” (1 Cor. 2:14).
“The carnal mind is enmity against God... neither indeed can be” (Rom. 8:7).

These texts affirm more than mere moral weakness; they assert inability—a radical incapacity that only divine grace can overcome. The Arminian claim that prevenient grace universally restores ability lacks explicit biblical support and renders these statements effectively meaningless.

VII. Scriptural Testimony to Divine Election

In contrast to the Arminian scheme of conditional election, Scripture presents election as sovereign, unconditional, and rooted in God’s eternal purpose:

“He hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the world” (Eph. 1:4).
“According to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began” (2 Tim. 1:9).
“As many as were ordained to eternal life believed” (Acts 13:48).
“For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate... moreover whom he did predestinate, them he also called...” (Rom. 8:29–30).

In these passages, foreknowledge is not mere prescience but fore-love—God’s gracious determination to set His affection upon certain persons.⁵ The grammar of Romans 8:29 places foreknowledge and predestination in a causal sequence within God’s decree, not as an observational act of foresight. If election were conditional upon foreseen faith, then faith would precede divine choice, undermining Paul’s explicit statement that election “is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy” (Rom. 9:16).

VIII. The Inadequacy of “Foreknowledge” as the Ground of Election

The Arminian view of foreknowledge reduces divine omniscience to passive awareness. It imagines God as an observer of future contingencies, not as their ordainer. Yet such a conception is logically incoherent: if God merely knows what free creatures will do, His knowledge still makes those acts certain; and if they are certain, they are no longer indeterminate. Thus, conditional election collapses into either determinism or open theism.

Moreover, biblical “foreknowledge” (Greek proginōskō) carries the covenantal sense of intimate personal choice rather than abstract cognition. When Scripture says, “The Lord knew you” (Deut. 7:7–8; Amos 3:2), it denotes electing love, not neutral foresight. Therefore, to base election upon foreseen faith reverses the biblical order: faith is the fruit of election, not its cause (Acts 13:48; John 6:37).

IX. The Moral Consequences of the Arminian God

If God foreknows eternal torment for the majority yet elects not to intervene decisively, He becomes morally culpable by omission. To allow preventable evil for the sake of preserving a philosophical abstraction—libertarian freedom—is not love but self-regard. Arminianism thus exchanges divine sovereignty for divine sentimentality. The result is a theodicy in which God’s goodness is compromised, His power curtailed, and His purpose fragmented.

X. Conclusion: The Only Sufficient Theodicy

Both Calvinism and Arminianism falter at the same point: they leave evil with the last word for a portion of God’s creation. Calvinism attributes this to decretal reprobation; Arminianism to autonomous free will. But in either case, the final state of the cosmos is dualistic—evil and good coexisting eternally.

The only theodicy that preserves both divine sovereignty and divine love is one in which predestination aims at universal restoration (Eph. 1:10; Col. 1:20; Rom. 11:32). Election, rightly understood, is not the rejection of the many for the sake of the few but the choosing of the few for the redemption of the many. God’s foreknowledge is not passive observation but purposeful ordination “that God may be all in all” (1 Cor. 15:28).

Thus the tragedy of Arminian freedom is that it exalts the autonomy of the creature above the triumph of divine grace. A truly benevolent God would not rest until every lost soul is restored, for the love that allows eternal loss is no love at all.

Notes

Jacobus Arminius, Works, trans. James Nichols (London: Longman, 1825), 2:192–96.
“The Remonstrant Articles” (1610), in Creeds of Christendom, ed. Philip Schaff (New York: Harper, 1877), 3:545–46.
John Wesley, Sermons on Several Occasions, Sermon 85, “On Working Out Our Own Salvation.”
Charles G. Finney, Systematic Theology (Oberlin, 1846), Lecture 17.
See John Murray, The Epistle to the Romans (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1959), 316–18; Richard B. Gaffin, “By Faith, Not by Sight” (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2006), 62–64.

Monday, October 27, 2025

Eternal Ontology and Covenant History: The Shared Error of Rellyan Universalism and Hoeksema's Hyper-Calvinism

By William M. Brennan, Th.D.

I. Introduction

The history of Christian soteriology reveals two seemingly opposed tendencies: the universalist inclusivism of James Relly (1722–1778), and the supralapsarian particularism of Herman Hoeksema (1886–1965). On the surface, these systems could not appear more divergent. Relly proclaimed that all humanity was already saved in Christ, while Hoeksema insisted that only the elect were ever truly the objects of God’s saving love. Yet upon closer examination, both systems share a deep structural affinity. Each transforms salvation from a covenantal and historical event into an eternal ontological reality, known only when the believer “comes to consciousness” of it.

This essay argues that both systems—Relly’s inclusivistic universalism and Hoeksema’s supralapsarian Calvinism—commit the same theological reduction: the collapse of redemptive history into metaphysical eternity. Scripture, however, insists that salvation is not merely recognized but received; not an eternal state but a temporal act of God’s grace applied through faith.

II. Relly’s Inclusivistic Universalism: Universal Decretal Realism

James Relly, mentor to John Murray (the Universalist preacher, not the Westminster theologian), taught that humanity as a whole was federally included in Christ. Drawing upon Pauline headship theology (Romans 5:12–19; 1 Corinthians 15:22), he reasoned that if all sinned in Adam, then all must be justified in Christ. The atonement was not substitutionary but inclusive—Christ’s obedience was the obedience of all mankind, accomplished vicariously and representatively.

For Relly, therefore, the world is not potentially saved but already saved in Christ. Faith is simply the awakening to this universal fact:

“Faith is the discovery, not the cause, of salvation.”

In his view, unbelief does not condemn but merely blinds a person to what is already true. Thus, the gospel is not an offer of salvation but a declaration of existing reconciliation.

This is an ontological universalism: all men are “in Christ” by divine act, and damnation is merely ignorance of one’s inclusion. Salvation is, therefore, not redemptive but revelatory.

III. Hoeksema’s Supralapsarian Calvinism: Particular Decretal Realism

Herman Hoeksema, founder of the Protestant Reformed Churches, constructed a supralapsarian system in which all redemptive acts are eternally complete in God’s decree. He denied the “well-meant offer” of the gospel, arguing that God’s grace is particular and never expressed toward the reprobate. The elect, he said, were never truly under wrath “in the sense of condemnation,” for they were eternally united to Christ in the counsel of God.

Thus, Hoeksema could write that the elect are “justified eternally in the mind of God,” though they come to conscious enjoyment of that justification through faith. Salvation in time, therefore, is not a real transition from wrath to grace, but a subjective realization of an already decreed, eternally existent relationship.

Like Relly, Hoeksema transforms the gospel from covenantal appeal to ontological revelation. His elect are eternally redeemed; faith does not justify but awakens to justification. The cross itself, in this view, does not effect reconciliation in time but discloses an eternal decree.

IV. The Shared Metaphysical Structure

Despite their opposite scope—Relly universal, Hoeksema particular—both systems share the same metaphysical core:

Category	Relly	Hoeksema
Scope	All humanity	Elect only
Nature of salvation	Universal inclusion in Christ	Eternal election in Christ
View of faith	Recognition of inclusion	Awareness of election
Function of gospel	Revelation of fact	Declaration of decree
Temporal transition	Denied	Denied
Wrath and grace	Apparent, not real	Apparent, not real

In both cases, salvation ceases to be a covenantal transition enacted by God in history and becomes instead a timeless metaphysical relation—either between humanity and Christ (Relly) or the elect and Christ (Hoeksema). This metaphysical monism erases the dialectic of promise and fulfillment, replacing the drama of redemption with the immutability of decree.

V. The Covenant-Historical Alternative

Orthodox Reformed theology maintains three inseparable but distinct dimensions of salvation:

Decree (Eternal Intention) — God’s purpose to redeem the elect (Ephesians 1:4–5).
Accomplishment (Historical Event) — Christ’s atoning death and resurrection (Romans 4:25).
Application (Covenantal Realization) — The Spirit’s temporal application of redemption through faith (Titus 3:5–7).

Faith is not a discovery of what one eternally possessed, but the Spirit-wrought instrument by which the believer is united to Christ and thus justified (Romans 5:1). This preserves both divine sovereignty and historical realism.

VI. Biblical Refutation of the “Already Saved” Conception

Scripture consistently presents salvation as a real temporal transition, not a mere awareness of an eternal state.

1. Justification Occurs in Time

“Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” — Romans 5:1
“By Him all that believe are justified.” — Acts 13:39
These texts clearly locate justification after faith, not before it.

2. Before Faith, All Are Under Wrath

“We were by nature children of wrath, even as others.” — Ephesians 2:3
“He that believeth not the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him.” — John 3:36
The elect, like all others, were truly under wrath until reconciled through faith. Paul’s “we all” (Eph. 2:3) includes believers prior to regeneration.

3. Reconciliation Is Achieved, Not Merely Revealed

“When we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son.” — Romans 5:10
Reconciliation occurs “when” we were enemies—a change of state, not eternal stasis.

4. Union with Christ Is Historical, Not Merely Ideal

“In whom ye also trusted, after that ye heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation: in whom also after that ye believed, ye were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise.” — Ephesians 1:13
Here union follows hearing and believing; it is not an eternal possession awaiting consciousness.

5. Faith as Instrument, Not Illumination

“To him that worketh not, but believeth on Him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness.” — Romans 4:5
Faith is the appointed means of justification, not the awakening to a preexisting justification.

6. Gospel as Sincere Offer, Not Mere Declaration

“Turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die?” — Ezekiel 33:11
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28
These invitations presuppose a genuine divine desire for repentance and faith, contradicting any notion that salvation is already possessed.

VII. The Theological Stakes

Both Relly and Hoeksema, though in opposite directions, collapse covenantal temporality into eternal ontology. In so doing, they undermine:

The moral seriousness of the gospel command,
The instrumentality of faith, and
The necessity of evangelism and repentance.

The Reformed tradition, by contrast, maintains that while salvation is decreed eternally, it is effected historically and applied personally. Christ’s cross is not merely revelatory but redemptive; faith is not realization but union.

VIII. Conclusion

The theological kinship between Relly’s universalism and Hoeksema’s hyper-Calvinism lies not in their outcomes but in their ontology. Both render salvation static—one eternally universal, the other eternally particular—while Scripture presents it as dynamic: decreed from eternity, accomplished in history, and applied in covenantal time.

The gospel call remains the gracious means by which the Spirit brings the elect into conscious, real participation in Christ’s justifying work. To deny this temporal transition is to empty salvation of its redemptive power and reduce it to metaphysical inevitability.

In the words of Paul, which refute both systems decisively:

“How shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher?” — Romans 10:14
“Now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” — 2 Corinthians 6:2

Salvation, therefore, is not eternally possessed awaiting recognition—it is graciously offered, effectually applied, and truly received in time, through faith, by the covenant mercy of God in Christ.

Saturday, October 25, 2025

The Atonement Limited or Universal? A Reassessment Based on its Covenantal Structure

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

I. Introduction

The doctrine of the atonement has too often been discussed in abstract terms of extent—whether it is universal or particular—without sufficient attention to its covenantal framework. Detached from covenant theology, the atonement becomes a question of numerical scope rather than covenantal identity. A truly biblical approach, however, recognizes that redemption is a covenantal transaction between God and His appointed Mediator. Christ did not die for atomized individuals considered apart from their covenantal relations, but as the surety and federal head of a divinely constituted corporate body—the covenant people of God.

Thus, the death of Christ cannot be understood merely as the redemption of discrete persons but as the ratification of the Covenant of Grace. In this covenantal structure, the atonement is neither “particular” in the atomistic sense nor “universal” in the indiscriminate sense. Rather, it is corporate and covenantal—limited to those in the New Covenant, but comprehending them as a whole under one representative Head.

II. The Covenant as the Framework of Redemption

Reformed theology rightly maintains that all divine-human relations are mediated through covenant. Humanity stands under one of two federal heads: Adam, in the Covenant of Works, or Christ, in the Covenant of Grace (Rom. 5:12–19). God never deals with human beings as isolated moral units but always as members of one covenantal order or another. Through Adam’s disobedience, sin and death entered the world; through Christ’s obedience, righteousness and life are bestowed.

Therefore, the atonement is not a universal moral provision waiting for individual acceptance, but a covenantal accomplishment grounded in federal representation. Christ’s death fulfills the stipulations of the covenant He mediates, securing its blessings for all whom He represents. Redemption, in this sense, is not an aggregate of private transactions but a single covenantal act with corporate implications.

III. The Mono-Pluric Nature of the New Covenant

The New Covenant, by its very nature, is mono-pluric—that is, one person fulfilling the covenantal conditions on behalf of a plurality of members. This structure echoes the federal arrangement of the first Adam, in whom the many were condemned (Rom. 5:18). Christ, the second Adam, meets the covenant’s demands for His covenantal body.

This mono-pluric principle lies at the heart of covenant theology: the “one for the many” dynamic that defines both judgment and redemption. In Adam, one man’s disobedience brought condemnation upon all who were in him; in Christ, one man’s obedience brings justification and life to all who are in Him (Rom. 5:19). Thus, the atonement operates not through individual substitution in isolation but through federal substitution within a covenantal union. Christ’s obedience, death, and resurrection are counted to the entire covenantal community because He stands as its covenantal head.

IV. The Institution of the Lord’s Supper and the Covenant Emphasis

This covenantal perspective is confirmed in the institution of the Lord’s Supper. Christ did not say, “This is the cup of my blood,” as if the salvific efficacy lay merely in the physical shedding of blood in isolation from its covenantal framework. Instead, He declared, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you” (Luke 22:20; cf. 1 Cor. 11:25).

By these words, Christ explicitly ties the atonement’s application not to His blood per se as a physical act, but to the covenantal reality that His blood seals and inaugurates. The blood is effectual precisely because it ratifies the New Covenant—it is “the blood of the covenant” (Matt. 26:28; Heb. 9:15–18). The power of the atonement, therefore, is covenantal in structure: the shedding of blood accomplishes redemption only insofar as it establishes and secures the covenantal relationship between God and His people.

This distinction guards against a purely sacrificial or transactional conception of the atonement detached from its covenantal framework. The efficacy of the cross is covenantal, not chemical; its virtue lies not merely in the existence of blood shed, but in what that blood signifies and seals—the inaugurated covenant of grace wherein all its members are comprehended.

V. The Corporate and Federal Character of Christ’s Work

Christ, as Surety (ἔγγυος) of the New Covenant (Heb. 7:22), undertakes all covenantal obligations on behalf of His people. His obedience unto death fulfills the covenant’s conditions, thereby securing its promises for all who are federally united to Him. In this sense, the atonement is both corporate and federal. Christ’s satisfaction was rendered not for an unconnected series of individual sinners, but for the covenantal body represented by Him from eternity.

This corporate dynamic mirrors the Adamic pattern: just as humanity fell collectively through one man’s disobedience, so the redeemed are restored corporately through one man’s obedience (1 Cor. 15:22, 45–49). Salvation, justification, and sanctification flow from this union with the covenant head. The atonement’s efficacy is therefore covenantal—its benefits are applied to all who are “in Christ,” just as guilt was applied to all who were “in Adam.”

VI. Particular Redemption Reframed in Covenantal Terms

Understanding the atonement covenantally reframes the debate over its extent. Christ’s death was particular not in the sense that it was designed for a predetermined list of isolated persons, but in that it was confined to the covenant community for whom He acts as mediator and surety. Those within the covenant of grace are the elect; their election is covenantal, their redemption federal, and their application of grace communal.

Therefore, to speak of “limited atonement” is, properly understood, to speak of the covenantal limitation of the atonement’s benefits to those in union with the Mediator. The limitation is not numerical but structural: the atonement’s efficacy extends as far as the covenant extends—no further and no less. As Herman Witsius wrote, “The covenant and its Mediator are coextensive; wheresoever the covenant is applied, the blood of the Surety is effectual.”

VII. The Inadequacy of Atomistic Individualism

When the covenantal structure is neglected, theologians often fall into what might be called soteriological atomism—treating salvation as a series of divine transactions with autonomous individuals. This framework obscures the biblical corporate solidarity that governs all redemptive acts. Scripture consistently portrays humanity as represented through covenant heads, not as an aggregation of self-contained moral agents.

In this light, Christ’s atonement must be understood as covenantally corporate: the “many sons” He brings to glory (Heb. 2:10) are members of His covenant body. Their salvation is not an afterthought but an entailment of their covenantal inclusion. The atonement accomplishes the redemption of the covenant as a whole, and individuals partake of that redemption only by being incorporated into that covenant through faith—a faith that itself is the gift of the covenantal Spirit.

VIII. Conclusion

The corporate, covenantal nature of the atonement restores the unity and coherence of biblical soteriology. Christ died not as a solitary benefactor for detached individuals, nor as a universal Savior for an undifferentiated humanity, but as the covenantal Head and Surety of the New Covenant—a mono-pluric covenant in which one fulfills all righteousness for the many.

By His words at the Supper—“This cup is the new covenant in my blood”—Christ identified His atonement as the ratification of the covenantal order that secures the redemption of its members. Thus, the atonement is neither strictly universal nor merely particular in the atomistic sense; it is covenantally particular and corporately universal—particular to the New Covenant community, yet universally efficacious for all within it.

In the economy of grace, God never views men apart from covenant: those still in Adam remain under the covenant of works and its condemnation; those in Christ partake of the covenant of grace and its redemptive blessings. Within this federal and corporate framework, the atonement finds its true theological home—the once-for-all act of the one Mediator whose obedience and blood secure eternal redemption for His covenant people.

The Proper Use of the Doctrine of Divine Wrath and Judgment

William M. Brennan, Th.D.

Introduction

The doctrine of divine wrath has often been mishandled—either by those who depict God as an irascible despot or by those who, in the name of benevolence, erase wrath from the divine character altogether. Both extremes distort the biblical witness. The former denies the restorative intent of divine judgment; the latter denies the reality of divine holiness. In Scripture, God’s wrath is neither arbitrary nor contrary to His love but is rather its necessary corollary—the moral intensity of perfect goodness opposed to all that is evil. Properly understood, wrath and judgment are real, not metaphorical; yet they are remedial, not retributive in the merely penal sense.

I. Wrath as the Necessary Correlative of Divine Holiness

The holiness of God is not a mere moral attribute but the very integrity of His being. “God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.”¹ The light of divine holiness, when shining upon moral darkness, necessarily manifests itself as wrath. Anselm of Canterbury described God’s justice as “the rectitude of will kept for its own sake.”² For God to ignore sin would be to compromise His own nature. Thus, wrath is not an emotion but a metaphysical necessity: it is holiness in relation to moral disorder.

Habakkuk’s confession that God is “of purer eyes than to behold evil, and canst not look on iniquity”³ expresses this divine incompatibility with sin. Yet this aversion to evil is not contrary to love—it is love’s indispensable expression. Augustine wrote that “he who loves rightly must hate what destroys the object of his love.”⁴ Divine hatred of evil is therefore an aspect of divine benevolence. Without such opposition, love would collapse into indulgence and God’s righteousness would become sentimental weakness.

II. The Judicial Function of Wrath in the Divine Economy

In the biblical economy, wrath is revealed not only as eschatological but as historically active. Paul declares that “the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men.”⁵ Divine judgment, though often manifested in temporal events—the Flood, the Exile, the destruction of Jerusalem—is never purely punitive. These judgments serve a pedagogical purpose, functioning as divine discipline intended to bring about repentance.

Isaiah affirms this restorative design: “When thy judgments are in the earth, the inhabitants of the world will learn righteousness.”⁶ Judgment is therefore corrective and covenantal rather than merely retributive. God’s wrath exposes sin’s futility, breaks human pride, and restores the sinner to moral and spiritual health. The metaphor of purgation aptly expresses this: the fire of judgment burns away corruption in order to heal the soul, much as a surgeon’s cautery restores health through pain.

III. The Inadequacy of Sentimental Universalism

While patristic and modern universalists alike have insisted upon the ultimate triumph of divine mercy, certain contemporary forms of universalism err by failing to integrate wrath and love within a single divine purpose. Such “sentimental universalism” tends to conceive salvation as automatic, neglecting the moral seriousness of sin and the necessity of divine judgment.

This deviation stands in contrast to the deeper universalist tradition found in Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, and Isaac of Nineveh, all of whom saw judgment as a purgative manifestation of love.⁷ To deny wrath is to deny the cross, for Calvary is the supreme revelation of divine judgment borne by divine mercy. Karl Barth observed that “the wrath of God is the shadow side of His love; it is love itself in its consuming holiness.”⁸ The crucifixion demonstrates that divine justice and mercy are not antithetical but unified—love judging sin in order to redeem the sinner.

Any universalism that cannot reconcile benevolence with judicial severity severs love from holiness, transforming God into a moral abstraction. A God who does not oppose evil ceases to be good. As the writer to the Hebrews declares, “Our God is a consuming fire.”⁹ The same fire that destroys dross purifies gold; the same holiness that condemns evil restores the good that evil has deformed.

IV. The Remedial End of Judgment

The telos of divine judgment is not perpetual destruction but universal restoration. “When all things shall be subdued unto him, then shall the Son also himself be subject…that God may be all in all.”¹⁰ Judgment thus serves the eschatological purpose of reconciliation. The “everlasting fire” of which Scripture speaks is not an eternal contradiction within God but an unending revelation of His purifying presence. Gregory of Nyssa interpreted the fire of judgment as “a purgation of evil…leading every nature to that which is proper to it.”¹¹

Temporal judgments foreshadow this ultimate purification. God’s wrath is not a denial of His benevolence but its dynamic operation within time. Through judgment He opposes all that resists His will, so that through mercy He may restore all things to harmony. Divine wrath, then, is teleological: it aims at healing. Even the severest judgments are manifestations of prevenient grace, designed to eradicate the disease of sin that separates the creature from the Creator.

V. Conclusion: Love Without Hatred of Evil Is Not Love

To eliminate wrath from theology is to destroy the moral realism of Christian faith. A God who loves without hating evil is neither holy nor just. The wrath of God is the intensity of His love toward the good and His opposition to all that violates it. Judgment, therefore, is not the contradiction of mercy but its instrument.

In the final analysis, the divine wrath is the fire of divine love in its remedial mode. It purifies creation until nothing remains contrary to the divine nature. As the Lamentations affirm, “Though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies.”¹² In this mystery, justice and mercy meet without contradiction: the wrath that terrifies also heals, and the judgment that slays also raises to life.

Notes

1 John 1:5 (KJV).
Anselm of Canterbury, Cur Deus Homo, I.12.
Habakkuk 1:13 (KJV).
Augustine, City of God, XIV.6.
Romans 1:18 (KJV).
Isaiah 26:9 (KJV).
Gregory of Nyssa, On the Soul and Resurrection; Isaac of Nineveh, Ascetical Homilies II.39.
Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, II/1 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1957), 370.
Hebrews 12:29 (KJV).
1 Corinthians 15:28 (KJV).
Gregory of Nyssa, The Great Catechism, ch. 26.
Lamentations 3:31–32 (KJV).

Bibliography

Anselm of Canterbury. Cur Deus Homo. In Anselm of Canterbury: The Major Works. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998.
Augustine. The City of God. Translated by Henry Bettenson. London: Penguin Classics, 2003.
Barth, Karl. Church Dogmatics, Vol. II/1. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1957.
Gregory of Nyssa. The Great Catechism. In Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series II, Vol. 5. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980.
Gregory of Nyssa. On the Soul and Resurrection. In Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series II, Vol. 5. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980.
Isaac of Nineveh. The Ascetical Homilies of Saint Isaac the Syrian. Translated by Dana Miller. Boston: Holy Transfiguration Monastery, 1984.
Scripture quotations from the King James Version.

Death, Sin, and Preexistence: Reconciling Romans 5:12 with the Doctrine of the Soul’s Primordial Fall

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

I. Introduction

Few Pauline statements have generated more exegetical and theological debate than Romans 5:12:

“Through one man sin entered into the world, and through sin, death; and thus death spread to all men, ἐφ’ ᾧ πάντες ἥμαρτον (‘for which reason all sinned’).”

The interpretive crux lies in the phrase ἐφ’ ᾧ, whose antecedent determines the logic of universal sin. Traditional Augustinian exegesis, following the Latin in quo omnes peccaverunt, construes it as “in whom,” identifying Adam as the locus of humanity’s guilt. Modern philology, however, recognizes ἐφ’ ᾧ as a causal conjunction meaning “for which reason” or “because of which.” This reading shifts Paul’s emphasis from inherited guilt to the causal relationship between death’s reign and universal sinning.

The question arises: if ἐφ’ ᾧ refers to death rather than Adam, how can this interpretation be reconciled with a theology that also affirms the preexistence of souls—a doctrine found in Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, and echoed in certain early Christian and Platonic sources? The present essay seeks to show that the causal reading of Romans 5:12 not only harmonizes with, but actually complements, the doctrine of preexistence when both are understood within a covenantal and restorative cosmology.

II. The Causal Force of ἐφ’ ᾧ in Romans 5:12

1. Philological Considerations

Grammatically, ἐφ’ ᾧ combines the preposition ἐπί (“upon,” “on account of”) with the relative pronoun ὅς in the dative or accusative, yielding the idiomatic sense “for which reason” or “because of which.” This causal usage is well attested in both Hellenistic and New Testament Greek (cf. Philippians 3:12; 2 Corinthians 5:4; Polybius, Histories 3.61.4). The singular form ᾧ cannot naturally refer to the plural ἀνθρώπους (“men”) but agrees more readily with θάνατος (“death”), the nearest singular antecedent. Thus the most natural syntactic reading is:

“Death spread to all men, for which reason all sinned.”

2. Contextual Flow

Paul’s argument in Romans 5:12–21 unfolds in a chain of causation: Adam’s transgression introduced sin; sin introduced death; death became universal; therefore all sinned. The verse does not seek to identify the metaphysical origin of sin in each individual but to describe how the cosmic condition of mortality perpetuates sin’s universality. Death, as corruption and separation from divine life, functions as the environment in which human freedom is deformed and sin inevitably manifests.

III. The Preexistence of Souls and the Problem of Sin’s Origin

1. The Origenian Framework

Origen of Alexandria (c. 185–254 CE) posited that rational souls (logika) were created equal and free within the divine Logos. Some turned from the contemplation of God through negligence and fell from their original state, thereby becoming embodied as a form of pedagogical discipline (De Principiis 2.9.6). Embodiment, then, is not the cause but the consequence of a primordial self-determination away from the Good.

This preexistence doctrine preserves divine justice—since no soul suffers undeservedly—and locates the source of evil in the misuse of created freedom, not in the Creator’s decree. It also explains why all human beings share a propensity toward sin prior to conscious choice: each enters bodily life already burdened by a disordered inclination formed before birth.

2. Gregory of Nyssa’s Refinement

Gregory of Nyssa did not teach the pre-existence of souls. In On the Making of Man and On the Soul and the Resurrection he argues that soul and body originate together, with the soul created by God for the body. Gregory therefore diverges from Origen’s hypothesis of pre-temporal declension. What he retains is a robust account of mortality as remedial pedagogy: death and corruptibility, introduced through Adam, become the arena in which God heals the will and restores the image. Gregory’s occasional language about humanity “in idea (logos)” refers to the divine archetype and providential plan, not to a prior, personal life of each soul. Thus, while Gregory rejects pre-existence, his soteriology still harmonizes with the causal reading of ἐφ’ ᾧ in Romans 5:12: death’s universal reign is the condition “for which reason” all sin—and also the very instrument God employs to cure sin through Christ’s victory over death.

Thus, for Gregory, the universality of sin is grounded not in Adamic imputation but in a shared metaphysical fallenness that finds expression in the mortal condition inaugurated by Adam’s act.

IV. Integrating the Doctrines: Death as the Historical Vehicle of Preexistent Corruption

When these two strands—Paul’s causal logic and the doctrine of preexistence—are woven together, a coherent synthesis emerges.

1. Adam as the Catalyst of Corporeal Corruption

Adam’s transgression represents the historical point at which spiritual rebellion became embodied. His act “opened the door” for death to enter the physical cosmos, transforming mortality into the medium through which preexistent souls experience the consequences of their alienation. Death, therefore, is not merely biological cessation but the cosmic manifestation of the soul’s prior separation from divine life.

2. Death as the Environment of Sin

If ἐφ’ ᾧ points back to death, Paul’s assertion—“for which reason all sinned”—describes how mortality and corruption occasion sin’s universal expression. The souls that had fallen in preexistence are now immersed in a world whose very structure reflects that fall. The corruptible body and the fear of death intensify self-preserving instincts, passions, and ignorance, which in turn produce actual sin in time. Thus, while the tendency to sin preexisted embodiment, death provides the occasion and theater of its manifestation.

3. Divine Pedagogy and Universal Restoration

This reading also preserves the redemptive teleology central to both Origen and Paul. Death, though a consequence of sin, becomes the instrument of God’s mercy: the crucible in which the soul learns dependence, humility, and love. In this way, the causal clause “for which reason all sinned” describes not merely a tragedy but a providential stage within the larger economy of apokatastasis—the universal restoration in Christ.

As Origen writes, “The end is like the beginning, and as all were made through the Word, so through the Word all will be restored” (Comm. in Rom. 5.1). Gregory echoes: “Death becomes the physician of sin; through corruption the corrupt is healed” (Catech. 8).

V. Theological Implications

1. Sin and Solidarity

The causal reading of ἐφ’ ᾧ shifts the doctrine of original sin from juridical imputation to ontological solidarity. Humanity shares not Adam’s guilt but his condition—a mortal existence within which the will, already weakened by preexistent estrangement, inevitably fails. This harmonizes with Paul’s realism: “The mind of the flesh is death” (Rom 8:6).

2. Christ as the Second Adam

If Adam’s act materialized death, Christ’s resurrection dematerializes it. The Second Adam inaugurates the reversal of the causal chain: “For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive” (1 Cor 15:22). The preexistent souls, embodied through judgment, are now re-embodied through grace, so that the very arena of their fall becomes the stage of restoration. The Logos, by assuming flesh, heals the diseased medium that occasioned sin “for which reason all sinned.”

3. A Universalist Soteriology

Within a Reformed Universalist framework, this synthesis vindicates divine sovereignty and goodness. God’s decree encompasses both the fall into mortality and the final deliverance from it. The universality of sin (Rom 5:18) is thus matched by the universality of grace: “As one man’s trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man’s act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all.” Death is not the final word; it is the womb of resurrection.

VI. Conclusion

The causal interpretation of ἐφ’ ᾧ in Romans 5:12—“for which reason all sinned”—does not conflict with the doctrine of preexistence; rather, it provides its historical corollary. Preexistent souls, having fallen from divine communion, enter the mortal world Adam’s sin inaugurated. Death becomes the existential condition through which their latent disorder is externalized and ultimately healed in Christ.

Paul’s statement, therefore, describes not a single act of transgression inherited by propagation but a cosmic pedagogy in which mortality serves as both judgment and mercy. Through one man sin entered the world, and through one Man—“the last Adam”—life and immortality are restored. The causal nexus between death and sin is thus subordinated to a higher causal nexus between death and resurrection: “For which reason,” as Gregory might paraphrase, “all shall be made righteous.”

Select Bibliography

Origen. De Principiis. Trans. G. W. Butterworth. London: SPCK, 1936.
Origen. Commentary on Romans. In Fathers of the Church, vol. 103. Washington: CUA Press, 2001.
Gregory of Nyssa. On the Making of Man and The Great Catechism. In Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series II, vol. 5.
Chrysostom, John. Homilies on Romans. NPNF I, vol. 11.
Augustine. Contra Duas Epistolas Pelagianorum.
Cranfield, C. E. B. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Romans. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1975.
Moo, Douglas J. The Epistle to the Romans. NICNT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996.
Nyssa, Gregory of. Catechetical Oration.
Brennan, William M. Hope for the Lost: The Case for Evangelical Universalism.

Friday, October 24, 2025

Heaven and Earth Will Pass Away: A Hermeneutical Critique of Full Preterist Hyperbole and the Continuing Prophetic Pattern

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

Abstract

Full preterism interprets Christ’s declaration, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will not pass away” (Matt 24:35; Mark 13:31; Luke 21:33), as hyperbolic covenantal imagery referring to the dissolution of the Mosaic order in A.D. 70. This essay contends that such a reading, though partially valid within a limited first-century horizon, fails to account for the canonical, typological, and theological depth of the phrase. By applying the analogy of Scripture and recognizing the progressive, recapitulative nature of prophetic fulfillment, a more comprehensive hermeneutic emerges—one that integrates preterist, historicist, idealist, and futurist insights within a covenantal-typological framework. The result is a reading that honors historical fulfillment while affirming the ongoing and future unfolding of divine action in history.

I. Introduction: The Full Preterist Claim

Full preterism asserts that all biblical prophecy—including the parousia, resurrection, and judgment—was fulfilled in the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70. Within this system, “heaven and earth” functions as a stock metaphor for the old covenant world: the temple-centered cosmos of Israel now passing away. The preterist thus regards Christ’s words not as predicting the literal dissolution of creation, but as proclaiming the covenantal transition from law to grace, from shadow to substance. While preterism rightly emphasizes the imminence and historical specificity of Jesus’ prophetic warnings, its hyperbolic interpretation of “heaven and earth” creates theological and textual tensions. The assertion that all prophecy was fulfilled leaves no room for the continued eschatological expansion that Scripture itself anticipates. Moreover, the biblical pattern of fulfillment demonstrates that realized prophecies often serve as types of greater realities, not as final endpoints.

II. The Textual Context: The Contrast of Matthew 24:35

Christ’s statement—“Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will not pass away”—appears at the climax of the Olivet Discourse. Here, Jesus contrasts the mutable created order with the immutable authority of His word. The contrast only carries its full rhetorical and theological weight if “heaven and earth” denotes the visible creation, not merely a covenantal system. Isaiah 40:8 provides the background: “The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.” Jesus reaffirms that the physical cosmos itself is less enduring than His promises. To reduce “heaven and earth” to the temple order of Judaism flattens this cosmic contrast and confines a universal declaration to a local referent. The grandeur of the statement demands a broader scope—one encompassing all creation.

III. The Broader Canonical Witness

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus declares: “Until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished” (Matt 5:18). If “heaven and earth” passed in A.D. 70, one must conclude that the entire moral and creational purpose of the Law was fulfilled at that time—a conclusion neither the apostles nor history supports. Instead, “heaven and earth” here functions as the stage of redemptive history, the enduring creation within which God’s law operates until its telos is realized in the renewal of all things. Thus, both in Matthew 5:18 and 24:35, the phrase conveys cosmic stability and ultimate transformation, not merely covenantal transition.

IV. The Apostolic Interpretation: Future Cosmic Renewal

The wider New Testament bears witness to a future transformation of creation:
- Hebrews 1:10–12, quoting Psalm 102, affirms that creation “will wear out like a garment,” but Christ remains. This is didactic prose, not apocalyptic metaphor.
- Hebrews 12:26–28 contrasts Sinai’s shaking with a yet-future shaking of “heaven and earth,” in which “the things that have been made” will be removed so that “the unshakable kingdom” may remain.
- 2 Peter 3:10–13 describes the dissolution of “the heavens” and “the elements” by fire, followed by the appearance of “new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells.” These passages interpret the prophetic idiom of cosmic change not merely as covenantal hyperbole but as eschatological reality. The consistent apostolic expectation is not of a static eternal order but of creation’s purification and renewal under the reign of Christ.

V. The Analogy of Scripture and Typological Recapitulation

The Reformation maxim *Scriptura sui interpres*—“Scripture is its own interpreter”—requires that prophecy be read in the light of the whole canon. The biblical writers themselves practice this principle, re-employing earlier fulfillments typologically to unveil deeper realities in Christ and His kingdom. Matthew’s Gospel provides the clearest model: Hosea 11:1 → Matthew 2:15; Isaiah 7:14 → Matthew 1:23; Jeremiah 31:15 → Matthew 2:17–18; Micah 5:2 → Matthew 2:6. Each text possessed a historical referent yet anticipated a fuller realization. The Spirit thus transforms the earlier oracles into living paradigms, moving from Israel’s partial experiences toward Christ’s universal redemption. Fulfillment is historical but not terminal—it expands by analogy.

Isaiah’s oracles exemplify this pattern. Two great visions—Isaiah 2:2–4 and 65:17–25—show that prophecy’s first realization in Israel’s restoration was real yet incomplete, prefiguring an ongoing cosmic renewal. In Isaiah 2:2–4, the nations beat their swords into plowshares, signaling not merely an end to ancient warfare but the redirection of destructive power into constructive service. Under the sanctifying influence of the Holy Spirit, humanity’s technological capacities—once used for destruction—may be redeemed for good. Even nuclear energy, once weaponized for mass annihilation, could in time become a source of beneficial power for human flourishing. Isaiah’s prophecy thus speaks to the transformation of technology itself under divine peace.

In Isaiah 65:17–25, the prophet entwines apocalyptic imagery with social blessing—longevity, health, and the taming of nature itself. The reconciliation of predator and prey ('wolf and lamb,' 'lion and ox') symbolizes the reversal of the curse. The parallel in Isaiah 11:6–9 portrays a moral and ecological reconciliation in which creation’s wildness is domesticated under divine order. The statement that 'the child shall die a hundred years old' gestures beyond ancient hyperbole toward the progressive diminishment of the curse described in Romans 8:19–23. As Christian morality advances and the Spirit renews society, we may expect the curse’s physical effects—disease, decay, and premature death—to recede. With the gospel’s spread, greed and exploitation will yield to compassion and stewardship; scientific knowledge will no longer be hoarded for profit or used to preserve sickness for gain. Freed from corruption, humanity will employ discovery for the common good. In such an era, it is reasonable to foresee greatly extended human lifespans—approximating those of the patriarchs—as the blessings of creation are restored.

Isaiah’s prophecies thus demonstrate that fulfillment in Scripture is real yet unexhausted. The return from exile and the establishment of the church were authentic acts of God, but the ideals they embodied—peace among nations, reconciliation of creation, and the extension of life—continue to unfold in history. Each historical act becomes a type, a pledge of God’s ongoing redemptive purpose. While preterists are correct that these texts possessed concrete historical reference, which should never be ignored, the canonical witness reveals their trajectory toward a comprehensive renewal of the world. This hermeneutic affirms both historical completion and typological continuation: what God once did for Israel He continues to do for the world until creation itself is liberated from corruption. Thus, prophetic hyperbole is not merely exaggeration, whose meaning is exhausted by its historical referent, but sanctified anticipation, by means of typological analogy, of what divine grace will achieve through the ever-expanding reign of the Prince of Peace.

VI. The Theological Cost of Prophetic Exhaustion

If no prophecies remain, providence becomes static: God’s public, covenantal dealings recede into the past. Yet the kingdom is organic (Mark 4:26–29), Christ must reign until all enemies are subdued (1 Corinthians 15:24–28), and the knowledge of the LORD is destined to fill the earth (Isaiah 11:9; Habakkuk 2:14). The canon’s momentum points forward.

VII. Fulfillment and Continuation: A Balanced Proposal

With the full preterists, we heartily affirm that the events surrounding A.D. 70 consummated the Old-Covenant age and validated Jesus’ near-term prophecies. But unlike the full preterist, we also we affirm, based on the Bible’s own hermeneutic, that those fulfillments establish patterns, not terminal points—anticipating ongoing increase in quality, reach, and peace until universal homage and creation’s healing are fully manifested.

The Implication of this nuanced approach to fulfilled prophecy is that the kingdom’s increase is qualitatively unending and presses toward universal reconciliation (which full preterists typically deny), and that key promises remain not yet fully realized, contradicting the claim that no prophecies remain.

Conclusion

Full preterism rightly honors first-century fulfillment and the continuing reign of Christ. But its three additional claims—that prophecy is exhausted, that 'increase' is merely numerical, and that the earthly terrestrial realm is eternal, —are at odds with Scripture’s own self-interpretation and textual horizons. Isaiah’s promise of endless increase is best read as ever-expanding, creation-embracing shalom; Matthew’s Christological reuses of past prophecies, prove that past fulfillments seed further fulfillments. Consequently, the biblical pattern and the very verses surveyed resist a closed, A.D. 70-only eschaton: the kingdom’s increase has no end—neither in duration nor in scope. But one day, perhaps in just a little over a thousand years from now, this terrestrial cosmos will collapse into the celestial realm and God will be all-in-all.