Robert Menzies’s 2022 book The End of History has stirred up many conversations around eschatology in the Assemblies of God. Unfortunately, his arguments in favor of replacing AG positions of premillennialism with his interpretation of amillennialism put him in the precarious position of being in direct contradiction to AG bylaws. The result was his unfortunate departure from the AG-US, which is a lamentable outcome for someone who is a notable Pentecostal scholar with a rich heritage in the AG and also a person I consider a friend.

Menzies, however, has continued to publish his objections to premillennial positions in the AG. In the Summer of 2023, Menzies sent me his article published in the Journal Pentecostal and Charismatic Christianity (article here) in which he furthers his fight for amillennialism. In this latest piece, “Pentecostal Eschatology: Why Amillennialism is a Better Fit,” he attempts to interpret key scriptures in Revelation to show how amillennial interpretations are more faithful to Pentecostal concerns than premillennial interpretations. These conversations I welcome, particularly in the academy.

However, this time Menzies spotlights my work on AG eschatology as one of his issues with premillennialism. Of course, I welcome the debate over my work. That is what scholars do. However, in his zeal for defending his views, he is somewhat selective in his engagement with my arguments and has unfortunately misrepresented my particular positions. Since it is in published form and it appears this work is getting some attention, I decided to respond publicly.

But before examining his critique of me, let me first comment on his argument for amillennialism that he presents in this latest article.  

Assessing Menzies’s Amillennial Alternative

As a biblical scholar, it is no surprise that Menzies’s approach to the millennium is based on his concerns over the interpretation of apocalyptic literature. Menzies, like many others, is skeptical of the literalist interpretation of Revelation that is so common in the Pentecostal tradition. But, while saying he is critiquing premillennialism, he is actually critiquing literal interpretations of Revelation, not the theological framework of premillenialism as a whole. This is evidenced immediately in the article in that while he gives some definition of premillennialism in the introduction, he does not define amillennialism or give any indication of the theological framework he intends to represent.

The article points to three passages in Revelation that Menzies identifies as examples of how amillennialism is a “better fit” than premillennialism.  The first text engaged is Revelation 11 and the two witnesses in which he critiques the futurist interpretation and argues for these as symbols of the Spirit-empowered, prophetically-centered church. By contrast, he argues that interpreting this passage as future only removes that Pentecostal emphasis.

While it is true that a futurist interpretation by Pentecostals may claim a literalist interpretation of the two witnesses (he names some examples), I don’t find the interpretation of this particular passage as essential to any formulation of premillennialism. It would be hard to argue that either premillennialism or Pentecostal pneumatology rises and falls on a particular interpretation of the two witnesses. Most scholars of premillennialism admit there is a wide range of hermeneutical positions when interpreting images in Revelation, including historicist and futurist.

The second passage he engages in Revelation 12-14. These chapters contain many apocalyptic themes and images, including judgment. But oddly, he uses these passages about the rise of the beast and other images to argue for the nature of final judgment. This argument is even more confusing concerning its relevance to the compatibility with Pentecostalism. Menzies believes that the judgment motifs of Revelation 14 are symbolic of the “cosmic conflict between the forces of the Triune God and those of the Dragon and his beasts” (“Pentecostal Eschatology,” 8). I don’t think premillennialists would necessarily disagree with that interpretation. Very few premillennialist believe there is a literal “dragon” or “beast” with ten heads on earth in the future. These are most often viewed as symbolic.

My question on this point is how is it that Menzies’s allegorizing of the judgments in Revelation 14 can be deemed a stronger position on judgment than a premillennial position that holds to a literal final judgment after the millennium? If this is a continual state of the church right now, as he argues, then how is this a concept of “final” judgment? Furthermore, why is he avoiding interpreting the actual passage of Revelation 20 and instead focusing on the debated nature of Revelation 12-14?

The reality is that Menzies has an alternative goal in this section. Rather than re-interpreting futurist premillennial readings here, he uses this as an opportunity to highlight several Pentecostal scholars (including myself) that he believes are soft on the concept of judgment and not showing “fidelity to traditional Pentecostal doctrines or values.”

He admits as such when he says, “My purpose here is not to argue that premillennialism is incapable of conveying the seriousness of God’s final judgment.” (“Pentecostal Eschatology,” 8). He is right. There is little in this alternative/non-futurist reading that speaks to any issues of amillennialism as more compatible with a serious view of judgment. Instead, the point was to suggest that “Just because someone says that they are a premillennialist, this is no guarantee of fidelity to traditional Pentecostal doctrines or values.” This is a point I will return to later in his critique of me.

In the final section, he interprets Revelation 20 and the millennium in terms of a Pentecostal form of “realized eschatology” (“Pentecostal Eschatology,” 10). Like many scholars, he does not interpret Revelation 20 literally for reasons that many have pointed out. However, he instead argues that the “resurrection” in Revelation 20 is symbolic and “ a reference to Jesus’s first coming and his glorious defeat of Satan through his life, death, and resurrection.”

By making this assertion, does he also allegorize the final resurrection and final judgement depicted in this passage? Are they symbolic as well? Premillennialists may disagree about interpreting the present/future elements in the Book of Revelation. Still, the NT certainly conveys an expectation of a literal “future” resurrection and judgment in the gospels and the Pauline corpus.

In each of these cases, Menzies seek to shift from literal interpretations of Revelation to more symbolic or typological ones. This effort is certainly reasonable for a biblical scholar to do. However, I fail to see how Menzies’s particular positions on the three passages argue for amillennialism as a “better fit.” None of these concerns are particularly rooted in essentials of premillennialism, nor does amillennialism adequately supplant them.

Menzies’s conception of amillennialism could certainly have a Pentecostal orientation to it. But it is hard to argue that it is, in fact, “more Pentecostal” than the consistent advocation for premillennialism by every single Pentecostal tradition for the past century. Certainly, based on the arguments he provides, I remain unconvinced.

The Logic of Premillennialism in Pentecostal Eschatology

Menzies’s overall goal is to further detach Pentecostal eschatology from a dispensational premillennial framework. There are many critiques of dispensational approaches to premillennial eschatology, but Menzies is different in that dispensing with dispensationalism is not enough; the millennium must go as well. He believes a whole different approach is needed, mainly because of interpretive issues with Revelation.

However, in Imagining the Future (231-243), I give considerable attention to the rationale that premillennialism is not solely based on literal interpretation of Revelation or dispensationalism. Rather, it is part of a larger theological framework that affirms a Pentecostal theology of the future. Because of this, one can easily hold various interpretive positions on Revelation and still expect a literal, future messianic kingdom on Earth. These two things are not mutually exclusive. However, he does not engage any of those arguments.

The rational for premillennialism that I present draws on some insights by Amos Yong and few additional rationales of my own. (Yong, Renewing Christian Theology, 52; Isgrigg, Imagining the Future, 232-243) To summarize those points, here are five rationales for a literal, future millennium that I argue uphold the inner logic of Pentecostal eschatology.

• It affirms the imminent coming of Jesus, which animates Pentecostal missional fervency to reach the world with the Gospel. This is something Menzies tries to argue is the opposite effect. But premillennialism expects Christ to return physically to earth and calls the disciples to be Spirit-filled witnesses until he comes, which can be any moment.

• It fulfills the Pauline expectation in Romans 9-11 that Israel has a messianic future in which they will accept their Messiah to fulfill the Old Testament promises. This anticipation makes sense of the Old and New Testament messianic expectations of a kingdom of peace and justice on earth in which Christ will reign over the nations in justice and peace. Amillennialism replaces this expectation with the present Church age in Menzies’s interpretation of Revelation.

• It affirms the Luke-Acts eschatological orientation that expects the “restoration of the kingdom” (Acts 1:6) and the “restoration of all things” (Acts 3:21).  Christ’s Pentecostal commission to the disciples to receive power to be witnesses is central to the expectation of the coming kingdom and missional fervency. A Luke-Acts scholar like Menzies should no doubt be concerned with preserving this.

• It affirms the “already-not yet” of the kingdom in which the Holy Spirit is a prolepsis toward the kingdom to come. As Pentecostals, we cannot affirm the tension of the “already/not yet” without both a present and future aspect of the kingdom. Amillennialism offers only an already, without a not yet, because the kingdom is not a literal future. Yet, Menzies admits, “Jesus has not yet taken full possession of his kingdom.” (“Pentecostal Eschatology,” 11). But if this is the case, where and when is the kingdom fully realized in amillennialism in his view?

• It validates the continuity between the present creation and the coming New Heavens and New Earth. Rather than destroying this present creation, or discarding it, as even some premillennialists hold, Pentecostal interpreters imagine the millennium as a time of the Spirit’s renewal of the Earth (sanctification) toward its final state as the New (renewed) Earth. Eden lost in the fall is Eden fully restored by the Spirit during the kingdom. This is not a different earth, but a renewed earth where we will dwell. But first, Christ must reign in the power of the Spirit and bring peace and justice to the present world.

These rationales demonstrate (although they can be debated) that for Pentecostals, the belief in a future kingdom on earth (millennialism) is not predicated solely on the hermeneutics of one passage in Revelation. It is part of a larger, consistent messianic eschatological concept embedded in both Old and New Testament witness. The Messiah came, died, rose again, and is coming back to establish his kingdom, which is not yet fully present, even though we experience the foretaste of that kingdom by the Spirit.

Scholars can debate the literalness or the chronological length of that kingdom based on Revelation 20. Personally, I have no problem with the number 1,000 being symbolic, as many numbers in Revelation are. However, the actual number of years is secondary to the expectation of the actual reality of a future kingdom. The kingdom we experience now in the Spirit is a foretaste of what is coming. Because of this, I don’t believe this literal interpretation means that amillennialism is more Pentecostal or premillennialism less.

Responding to Menzies’s Critiques of Imagining the Future

Apart from the above questions about his overall thesis, the most puzzling part of the article was how Menzies spotlights my pneumatological reflections on the meaning of the final judgment (a doctrine that differs little between premillennial or amillennial interpretations) instead of critiquing the logic of premillennialism in my overall framework of Pentecostal eschatology.

As my book was a historical look at the development of the AG’s four eschatological doctrines, I devote quite a bit of space to the role of the doctrine of final judgment in AG theology. Because he was one of the endorsers of my work, I was pretty surprised to read Menzies’s characterization of my work as such:

“Isgrigg doesn’t seem to have much room for judgment, especially the judgment of people. His discussion of judgment emphasizes the purgative aspect of God’s judgment and implies that final judgment may be more akin to sanctification than judgment as it is normally conceived.” (“Pentecostal Eschatology,” 6)

But Menzies appears to be selective in how he comes to that conclusion. He focuses on an isolated reading of a couple sub-concepts he determines as soft on judgment without framing those insights in the totality of my argument for judgment as a core eschatological tenet.

Menzies notes that I see final judgment as an act of sanctification where God purges sin from the cosmos. He misinterprets this emphasis on sanctification, however, as largely dismissive of judgment. He says of my argument for judgement as purging of the present universe, “The lostness of sinful humanity, the finality of judgment after death, and the urgency of proclaiming the gospel are all largely missing” (“Pentecostal Eschatology,” 7). He does so because of how I discuss the relationship between final judgement and hell.

The point I make in the book is that many Pentecostals understood that hell was not created to be the destiny of humanity (Imagining the Future, 119). This is not a controversial statement, nor does it imply some sort of universalism. As many AG people taught, “Hell was not made for man.” Instead it was made for the Devil and his angels. That said, there is no question that hell is also the consequence for those who do not choose Christ. I point this out in that in early AG formulations, the purpose of the Lake of Fire was judgment upon the Devil and his forces first, then his followers second as a consequence. This was the context of that discussion.

Because of this observation of the priority of judgment of God’s enemies in the formulation of the Fundamental Truths, Menzies implies that I am arguing that humanity is somehow excluded from judgment. This is not the case. My point was a corrective to the perspective (that Menzies perpetuates) that sees the final judgment as ONLY about the unsaved. Many evangelicals see only one role for God’s judgment: to punish sinners in hell.

The AG’s use of Revelation 20-21 was not to create a doctrine of hell, it was a doctrine of final judgment. The final judgment has more cosmic ramifications than just sending people to hell. It deals with the cosmic enemies of God and purges the created world (physical and spiritual) of the source of sin. In this way, Menzies is right that I see the final judgment as an act of sanctification purging the universe of sin once and for all.

That said, I also argue that the theme of judgment is a hopeful concept in that God’s act of justice is a good act that sanctifies creation by purging the world of the one who causes sin (the devil) and those who follow in his sinful ways (humanity). There is hope in the anticipation that sin, the devil, and those who follow him will be purged by the Spirit (sanctified) from all creation, creating the conditions to which the new creation can emerge. That is why it is an image of hope, not an image of fear, which he notes is too often a motivational factor for Pentecostals using eschatology in preaching.

So on the one hand, I emphasize the sober aspects of judgment while at the same time affirming the hopeful aspects as follows:

“The fire is ‘everlasting’ which gives a sense of permanence to God’s judgments. In one sense, it is a somber image for those who have rebelled against God. In another, it is an image of comfort for those who faithfully held to the testimony of Jesus even to the point of death, but will have no part in eschatological death.” (Imagining the Future, 249)

Similarly, I propose that the AG’s Final Judgment tenet be framed as such:

“The final judgment is the hope that the Spirit of justice will purge from creation the cosmic enemies of God and the wicked that follow in their rebellion and consign them to everlasting punishment in the lake of fire, which is the second death.” (Imagining the Future, 274)

Perhaps what is confusing to Menzies is how I can turn this somber image of justice into an “image of hope.” For one who only sees justice as punitive for the lost, I could understand why he would struggle with the concept. However, I argue that the pneumatological emphasis on the Spirit of Justice makes a difference in understanding the final judgment as an image of hope.

With these clear arguments for the centrality of final judgment in the Pentecostal eschatological imagination, I am puzzled about how he can claim my not having “much room for judgment, especially the judgment of people.” (“Pentecostal Eschatology,” 6). He would have to negate everything I said to make this conclusion.

His selective reading of these points is also mirrored in his engagement with Chris Thomas and Frank Macchia (whom he also references, among others). I know he misread them because of the large role their work played in the framing of my position. For example, Menzies interprets Macchia’s beautiful concept of “grace towers over judgment in Revelation” as a blanket disregard for judgment. Yet, he ignores their interpretation of the final judgment verses as follows (that I also quote in my book on this point!):

“The implications cannot be clearer. If one identified with Satan and the beast and the false prophet in this life, that one will suffer eternal death with them.” (Thomas and Macchia, Revelation, 363. Emphasis mine)

Finally, I understand that Menzies is perhaps uncomfortable with the idea that judgment could be redemptive, as I mentioned in my constructive chapter (Imagining the Future, 259). In this chapter, I explore a concept from Miroslav Volf about how the Spirit could be involved in final justice not just judgment. He argues for the concept of redemptive justice, whereby the victim is involved in the reconciliation process, offering forgiveness to those who caused the offense at the final judgement (Imagining the Future, 259).

That concept certainly could be misconstrued as a form of softness on punitive justice. Yet, I don’t think that is necessarily the case. I note that judgment of the wicked “while sufficing the need for justice for the perpetrator, it offers little solution for the damage done to the victim” (Imagining the Future, 250). My concern was for the victim and how the final judgment might provide spaces for true redemptive justice from victim to perpetrator, which often is not possible in this life.

To misconstrue this as downplaying justice is, I suppose, possible. Whatever criticisms of that point, I gladly accept. But it was not intended to be doctrine, it was a theological reflection imagining what might be possible at the final judgment. But the bigger point is that this one concept should not negate the more considerable, clear affirmation of the centrality of judgment in the AG eschatological framework that I present. And, more importantly, it certainly is not an indictment on premillennialism as a whole that makes amillennialism a better fit.

A Call to a Faithful Reading

In conclusion, I appreciate Menzies’s quest to further a more robust Pentecostal theology that includes consistent eschatological convictions. That was also my quest in my study of AG eschatology. But I find it a bit ironic that the whole point of the article is motivated by his quest to replace a historically held doctrine (premillennialism) with one that has been forbidden (amillennialism). At the same time, he has no problem saying that Pentecostal premillennial scholars (like myself) are not being faithful to “Pentecostal values” (“Why Amillennialism,” 6). If the case for amillennialism can be made, so be it. But this article fails to accomplish that goal.

In the end, Menzies wrote this article to argue for a more faithful reading of Revelation. I am sure some will agree he did that and welcome his ideas—all the better, as the Pentecostal scholarly community is better for such debates. However, I wish he would have read my work, and that of my fellow scholars, more faithfully in this piece. It is a courtesy, I can only imagine, he wishes others would have extended to him in the controversy over his book.

Note: Out of a spirit of friendship and respect, this response was first sent to Menzies for review before posting was made public. It is offered in that same spirit to the public.