Appendix

One justification for a new movement is the assertion that traditional religion is inadequate to meet modern needs.

It seems belief systems that were around before Transmillenialism(tm) all fit under one heading, "traditional dogma," in this view. The dogma of these religious traditions is portrayed as a simplistic dualism:

…all reality is divided into two camps, good angels against bad demons, good nations against evil ones, good guys against the bad guys.

Traditional religion is also reduced to

…following the appropriate religious script to gain entrance to heaven at death.

By this the author implies previous religious tradition is not well thought out and cannot account for the complexity of the reality we are confronted with daily.

We may be accustomed to hearing such arguments from atheists and scoffers who would profane the Bible—not so much from advocates of a supposedly Christian religion.

While it's certainly possible to oversimplify important and complex topics in religion (and we won't defend any religion that isn't the one prescribed in Scripture), the argument being made in this postscript is itself an oversimplification. Scripture from antiquity has called for making precisely these kinds of judgments:

You are to distinguish between the holy and the common, and between the unclean and the clean….
(Leviticus 10:10)

A genuine conviction that actions can be either good or evil, a person's fate either heaven or hell, does not dictate a particular stance on whether nation states can be good or evil—let alone which is which. When the apostle Paul wrote to Christians in Rome that they must be subject to Roman rule (Romans 13:1–7), was he saying the nation of Rome itself—the authority that crucified Jesus and imprisoned Paul—was 'good'?

Nor does characterizing specific practices as either good or evil require those who practice them to be good guys or bad guys. Scripture shows a child of God can be overcome by an evil practice (Galatians 6:1–2); a child of God can also overcome an evil practice (2 Corinthians 7:10).

The author would do well to consider Ecclesiastes, which admits proverbial outcomes are not always what we observe in life, but which concludes there is one course of action for humanity:

Fear God and keep his commandments.
(Ecclesiastes 12:13–14)

One wonders whether Realized Eschatology adopts these criticisms in an attempt to enfranchise atheists and scoffers.

Another argument employed to justify this new movement is that religion and science ought to be friends—no, brothers. Timothy King says the fulfilled prophecy movement (another name for Realized Eschatology, or the A.D. 70 Doctrine) has its basis in modern reasoning.

He compares Max King to Galileo and Copernicus, with the Catholic Church obviously representing tradition and dogma in opposition to them. Like King, he argues, these scientists made a remarkable discovery, were initially rejected, but were finally vindicated.

…The church had once [condemned] Galileo for observing that the earth revolved around the sun.

This argument makes the faulty assumption, however, that King's discovery like that of the scientists was objective, quantitative, repeatable, observable. But these are the hallmarks of the western scientific method, not the teaching of Scripture,

for we walk by faith, not by sight.
(2 Corinthians 5:7)

The decision to condemn Copernicus, he says,

put the church on the wrong side of scientific inquiry for almost four centuries.

His argument assumes the Catholic religion is "the church" of the Scriptures, an entirely separate argument outside the scope of the book or this appendix—and an assumption that is not granted. But it also assumes that Scripture registers any opinion at all about matters of scientific inquiry.

Jesus wouldn't even entertain so mere a civil matter as the distribution of an inheritance, objecting in Luke 12:14,

Who made me a judge or arbitrator over you?

Why should we think He wants to debate observable physical phenomena with our scientific community?

Although the Bible is historically accurate, it is not a book of history. And whatever assertions the Bible makes that some might say fall within the realm of scientific inquiry are also accurate, not because the Bible is scientific, but because it is the inspired word of God. Did Jesus rise from the dead in the body, or not? Will a bodily resurrection ever prove quantitative, repeatable, observable, i.e., sound science?

One wonders whether fulfilled prophecy redefines resurrection and the end of the world in order to compromise and ingratiate itself with modern science.

Especially pernicious is the story of how Copernicus's concept seemed observably false to those who first heard him, but was in fact the truth.

This new concept was so contradictory to everyday experience, so apparently false, that it hardly warranted serious discussion.

By this the author implies that obvious falsehood should not disqualify a teaching from consideration.

The teaching in question is of course Realized Eschatology, in which terms like "the end of the world" are redefined and reapplied to historical events. Because of this redefinition, critics often claim Realized Eschatology believes the world has already ended. And most people will object that we need only look around us to see the world has not in fact ended already.

Indeed, this objection is almost a badge of honor for adherents of Realized Eschatology, who blame not their doctrine but any who oppose it as closed-minded fault-finders. The fault is ours, they would argue, for thinking adherents of Realized Eschatology unintelligent enough to believe something so obviously false.

However, this argument amounts to nothing more than an appeal to emotion and egalitarian goals. The argument is advanced in order to gain a foothold for the unsuspecting to entertain this teaching, which they might otherwise dismiss out of hand.

In the same vein, those who consider this teaching seriously and give its proponents an audience are styled the proud few, the open-minded.

A few thoughtful astronomers, however, began to find Copernicus' argument persuasive.

Some, throughout cultural history, have seen the greater reality….

The appeal is to membership in the exclusive club of the intelligent visionaries—not a great look for a supposedly Bible-based humility.

Still more emotional arguments are advanced in support of this new movement. Traditional religion is styled either "an obsession with the past" or "escapism."

Timothy King quotes Martin Luther to demonstrate there is but little hope in traditional religion:

In our sad condition, our only consolation is the expectancy of another life.

Along these lines he posits that traditional religion is too focused on dying and not focused enough on living:

We prepare for a better death… but what about a better life?

As with any convincing slogan, there is an element of truth to it; the life of a Christian is in fact the best life. But the argument assumes too much; Martin Luther is hardly an inspired author, and the failures of human religions like his cannot be used to criticize God in His word.