He Shall Have Dominion is the most recent attempt at articulating a thorough, ‘irrefutable’ argument for postmillennialism. Gentry attempts to make his case so airtight that critics will have to either ignore his work or answer his arguments. I’ve not read much on eschatology, outside of the postmillennial tradition, having grown up in the premill/amill mold. So I can’t speak to the persuasiveness of the argument with much sophistication.
Based on my experience reading the postmillenialists, the argument really boils down to a few things: the outright rejection of dispensationalism, the rejection of a pessimistic historical reading of Scripture, and what I would call the ‘original audience’ hermeneutic. The ‘original audience’ hermeneutic seeks to understand Scripture as primarily as the original audience would have understood it. This means, in the context of eschatology; first, a deep understanding of the Old Testament and its use of prophesy and apocalyptic language, and second, understanding the context of the early church. This is the core of He Shall Have Dominion.
Gary North, took the liberty of providing a forty(!) page foreword to the book, in his typically caustic manner, warns his readers of the potency of Gentry’s argument. Like Gentry, he argues that premills and amills see the triumph of the gospel as ‘discontinuous’ from history. It is an eschatology of defeat—a matter of “getting out of life alive.” Of course, framed this way, it seems a little ridiculous and contrary to the nature of God. North, essentially outlines Gentry’s whole argument in the foreword and anticipates the responses of the critics. But, like Gentry’s arguments, North’s are solid and difficult to refute in ‘spirit.’ By this, I mean that to critique the postmillennial case, one must do so from a position that sees the church and the gospel as weak in the future ‘as we know it.’
Gentry rightfully begins his argument for postmillennialism in Genesis. Premills and Amills surely attempt to do the same, but they do so anticipating the triumph of the gospel outside of history, whereas the postmillennialist does so within history. This makes all the difference in the world to one’s understanding of Scripture. When North and Gentry write of “pessimillenarians” they does so because they are pessimistic of the outcome of the church in history, not at the eschaton. So the heart of the debate is in understanding the “end of history.”
Naturally, one’s understanding of history has profound impact upon how one lives in the world and one’s goals for one’s own life as well as the church. This is particularly significant for dispensationalists as Gentry states they are “alarmed at the thought of Christian cultural transformation” because it “calls necessarily for the adopting of means that are unauthorized, and the setting of a goal that is unattainable as it is unscriptural.” (p. 20) For the postmillennialist, he “expects the gradual, developmental expansion of the kingdom of Christ in time and on earth” and thus labors toward that goal.
Gentry sums up the differing views and offers the well-known names of the proponents of each view. He then sums up the Reformation doctrines of sin, providence, revelation, ethics, and hermeneutics. He spends a great deal of time on the law, because theonomy is a critical component of postmillennialism, as it undergirds the continuity of the covenants and the covenantal purposes.
One of the primary differences that Gentry perceives in eschatological positions is the way pessimists see the power of sin as greater than the power of redemption in the church age. (p. 182)
This is a critical distinction that seems almost incomprehensible in light of Scripture. Is the power of Christ so muffled that it cannot overcome the power of sin? Hasn’t that battle already been fought and the outcome made plain? Yet there is disagreement here, with the pessimists maintaining that Christ will only be triumphant in the second coming.
Yet here, again, in understanding, “Christ’s coming” is a source of misunderstanding. Gentry notes that there are different ways in which “Christ ‘comes.’” (p. 271ff) The ways pessimists understanding Christ’s presence at the right hand of the Father in heaven, removes him from the earthly realm in a meaningful way. They believe that Christ cannot reign on earth from heaven, that he must be present in bodily form on earth to reign.
Gentry gets specific and deals with the key texts offering both the premill, amill, and postmill interpretations. One can go as deeply here as one desires, interacting with the biblical texts and the various interpretative options, but Gentry keeps things moving and doesn’t quote all the passages at length. So one doesn’t necessarily find oneself bogged down in the source texts. Yet Gentry is persuasive and answers the questions in a convincing manner.
The postmillennial hermeneutic is fundamentally a preterist one, meaning “past.” Most of the prophesies in the Bible—specifically in the New Testament have already taken place. Matthew 24 and Revelation, are thus primarily about historical events, not future ones. Though Gentry doesn’t say this, one must wonder at the way in which most people read the Bible for what it says to them, rather than what it actually says. This narcissistic hermeneutic seems the most likely source misunderstanding in eschatological questions. We are far too quick to seek to interpret the Bible with self as the referent, rather than God. This is a human trait, not merely one that premill and amill readers suffer from.
Gentry is a little more gentle with his reader. He writes, “When interpreting any book of the Bible, it is important to understand the audience to which it was originally directed. The concern of the evangelical interpreter is to understand the grammar of a passage in light of its historic context, not despite that context. There are at least three factors in Revelation that emphasize the original audience and their circumstances.” (p. 395) He argues that rather than seeking to understand a text in our own context, to do so in what I’ve called the ‘original-audience’ hermeneutic. When one does this, one can see the preterist interpretation is not only plausible, but natural to the text. We see this especially in the “expectancy” of John in Revelation. (p. 396)
Gentry evaluates the texts using his stated hermeneutic and the reading is a natural and convincing one. The bulk of the book is here in the exegesis, but the interpretive battle was already waged in the hermeneutics—not the exegesis. One’s interpretive grid will either bias one to a preterist or idealist/futurist position. I lump the last two because they are both in firm disagreement against the preterist position, not because they are the same position. One will not likely change positions based on the exegetical arguments that Gentry lays out, but due to the interpretative principles established earlier.
Once Gentry concludes his exegesis, he answers the standard objections raised against postmillennialism. He continues his exegesis here, where necessary and deftly handles the criticisms leveled against postmillennialism.
My only criticism of the book, and it is a minor one, is Gentry's preoccupation with dispensationalism. It is clearly a bunch of hokum, yet he spends a great deal of time answering them. This is naturally a very easy criticism for me to make in 2013, as dispensationalism long ago began a slow death. I suppose Gentry played a part in that, and I ought not to hold it against him today.
When one understands the power of the gospel in history, the Bible is transformed from a book written for a defeated, but “right” people, to a book of promises for those who “fight the good fight.” This changes everything. Read Gentry and get a taste for the transforming power of the gospel.