Russell taught that the parable of the ten virgins refers exclusively to the imminent fall of Jerusalem. He also taught that the separation of sheep and goats described in Matthew 25 refers exclusively to this event. "The parables of the ten virgins, the talents, and the sheep and the goats all belong to this same event, and are fulfilled in the judgment of Israel." [Russell, Parousia, p. 140.] Also fulfilled in A.D. 70 was the bodily resurrection of the dead, he said. "The resurrection of the dead, the judgment of the world, and the casting out of Satan are represented as coincident with the Parousia, and near at hand." [Ibid., pp. 139-40.] Here is his general principle of prophetic interpretation:
Russell's book is an example of Manicheanism by stealth, assuming that he believed in the doctrine of original sin. By relegating to A.D. 70 all of the New Testament's passages that relate to the final judgment, Russell implicitly introduced a variant of Manichean dualism. I can well understand why he refused to put his name on the first edition of his book in 1878. [Ibid., p. 1.] He wanted to "test the waters" before he identified himself in public. Why else would insist that his book be published anonymously, the same way that Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels published The Manifesto of the Communist Party in 1848. Given the fact of original sin, which is permanent in corrupt mankind, Russell's eschatology is Manichean, but he moves his disciples to this position by default. As a result of his theology, they initially decide what they do not believe about eschatology -- the final, comprehensive, worldwide inheritance of incorruption by incorruption -- but they never publicly announce what they, by default, must believe about the future: an eternal conflict between good and evil. Russell was as subtle as a serpent, for he held the formal theology of the serpent: the eternality of the historical kingdom of Satan.We have in these passages another new phrase in connexion with the approaching consummation, which is peculiar to the Fourth Gospel. We never find in the Synoptics the expression 'the last day,' although we do find its equivalents, 'that day,' and 'the day of judgment.' It cannot be doubted that these expressions are synonymous, and refer to the same period. But we have already seen that the judgment is contemporaneous with the 'end of the age ' (sonteleia ton aiwnoj), and we infer that ' the last day' is only another form of the expression 'the end of the age or Aeon.' The Parousia also is constantly represented as coincident in point of time with the ' end of the age,' so that all these great events, the Parousia, the resurrection of the dead, the judgment, and the last day, are contemporaneous. Since, then, the end of the age is not, as is generally imagined, the end of the world, or total destruction of the earth, but the close of the Jewish economy; and since our Lord Himself distinctly and frequently places that event within the limits of the existing generation, we conclude that the Parousia the resurrection, the judgment, and the last day, all belong to the period of the destruction of Jerusalem. [Ibid., p. 126.]
Russell began the final section of his book with a crucial admission: the Bible is silent regarding the future of history. For him, the Bible is silent about eschatology -- the last things -- because all New Testament prophecy was fulfilled in A.D. 70. He writes: "Here we might pause, for Scripture prophecy guides us no further." [Ibid., p. 549.] He spoke of history as if it were open-ended eschatologically -- the essence of Manicheanism in a world where original sin exists. His next sentence is important in this regard: "But the close of the aeon is not the end of the world, and the fate of Israel teaches us nothing respecting the destiny of the human race." [Ibid., p. 549.] He was wrong. Christ's final corporate judgment of the Old Covenant order in A.D. 70 teaches Christians to expect a future corporate judgment of the whole world. After a long period, from Abraham's call until A.D. 70, Christ returned to require a final accounting from that nation which had long possessed the kingdom of God. At that time, He transferred His kingdom to the church (Matt. 21:43), which is now an international institution, a new nation. He will come again in judgment to require a final corporate accounting from His people and from all mankind, as John taught in Revelation 20:12-15.
Russell continued: "Whether we will or no, we cannot help speculating about the future. . . ." Here he identified all statements about the church's future as mere speculation. This was because his hermeneutic applies all biblical prophecy to A.D. 70. There is supposedly nothing left over to guide Christians or the church regarding the future. For the brief remainder of the book, he cited not one passage that deals explicitly with prophecy. How could he? He had already squandered exegetically on A.D. 70 the church's eschatological inheritance. So, he speculated. What he proposed bore a superficial resemblance to postmillennialism's view of the future. But a postmillennialism that is stripped of all Bible passages relating either to prophecy or to eschatology -- last things -- is merely a disguised importation into the church of either the late nineteenth century's pop-Darwinian ideal of moral progress or else perfectionism-Pelagianism.
Russell then invoked the Lord's Prayer: "Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven" (Matt. 6:10b). He commented: "For every God-taught prayer contains a prophecy, and conveys a promise." [Ibid., p. 553.] Indeed, it does. This particular corporate prayer ("our Father," not "my Father") asks for corporate perfection: that life on earth will someday be as sin-free as life in heaven. It asks for a world in which the church militant will follow the will of God on earth with the same triumphant success as the church triumphant does now. This can be achieved in only one way: by completely removing sin from the world. The church militant must be transformed into the church triumphant. This will be done discontinuously, Paul taught: in the twinkling of an eye (I Cor. 15:52). Perfection for sinful man can never be the culmination of the compound growth of righteousness over sin in history. Man is burdened by original sin. The effects of original sin are in his very being. Moral corruption is a permanent condition in every man in history, Paul taught (Rom. 7). It can be overcome only by the discontinuous intervention of God: either at the individual's death or at the last trump. In history, no person can ever escape this limitation: "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us" (I John 1:8). The perfectionist denies this, which is why he is a heretic. [B. B. Warfield, Studies in Perfectionism (Philadelphia: Presbyterian & Reformed, [1931] 1958).]
Russell denied that there will be a last trump. There will be no final corporate transformation of the church militant. The church militant is eternal, as far as the Bible tells us, if we apply every passage dealing with final judgment to A.D. 70. Russell imported an alien imitation of postmillennialism to match his alien concept of time without end. He wrote: "The true implication of New Testament prophecy, instead of leaving us in darkness, encourages hope. It relieves the gloom which hung over a world which was believed to be destined to perish. There is no reason to infer that because Jerusalem was destroyed the world must burn; or, because the apostate nation was condemned, the human race must be consigned to perdition. All sinister anticipation rests upon an erroneous interpretation of Scripture; and, the fallacies being cleared away, the prospect brightens with a glorious hope." [Russell, Parousia, pp. 551-52.] Some hope: the ethical progress of the church militant in history, with no prospect of a discontinuous deliverance from the curse of death, or deliverance from the burden of original sin, or the final victory of God over His covenantal enemies in history. Some hope: the eternality of original sin and its curses in history.
Unless. . . . Unless Russell did not believe in original sin. He ended his book on this upbeat note: "This world belongs no more to the devil, but to God. Christ will redeem it, and will recover it, and draw all men unto him." [Ibid., p. 553.] This may mean progressive sanctification without final sanctification, i.e., the permanence of residual sin forever: a heresy (Manicheanism). If it does not mean this, then it must mean absolute perfection in history: a heresy (perfectionism). It would mean that Christians can escape original sin in history: a heresy (Pelagianism).
Russell was not a postmillennialist, despite a superficial resemblance. He was either a happy-face Manichean or else a perfectionist-Pelagian. Whichever he was, he was heretical, and not just a little heretical. He stood in defiance of the church's creeds and confessions on the question of the final judgment, and in doing so, he adopted either an implicit Manicheanism or else multiple explicit heresies that deny the permanence of original sin in history.
This is always the reality of heresy. You cannot limit heresy to just one. To adopt one forces you to adopt others. Russell's official heresy was his denial of the final judgment. He chose not to name his accompanying heresy (Manicheanism) or heresies (perfectionism- Pelagianism), but they are inevitable implications of his system nonetheless.
Russell's modern disciples can successfully refute my accusation that he was a Manichean only by arguing that he was a perfectionist and a Pelagian. This will do them little good if they are brought to trial in churches that adhere to the teachings of John Calvin. (Lutheranism's official amillennialism is sufficient to condemn them in Lutheran churches.) If they are found to be promoting heretical preterism in a Presbyterian church, they will find no theological support for any denial of their Manicheanism by an affirmation of perfectionism- Pelagianism. On the other hand, if they are not perfectionists or Pelagians, then they are Manicheans. Take your pick.
I pick Manicheanism for them. This is because I see Russell's theology as offering an indefinite extension of time to Satan and Satan's legacy to man: original sin. Russell says that the world belongs to God. So what? God has always owned the world. Original sin is nevertheless a force that can be overcome in men only by God's discontinuous translation of their bodies: terrestrial bodies into celestial. Only if Russell did not believe in original sin -- and on this, he was silent -- was he not a Manichean.
If he was not a Manichean, then the two key theological questions regarding his theology are these. First, on what theological basis can any Christian argue that original sin will be completely removed in history? Second, how much time has God allotted to history, i.e., the realm in which original sin operates, and the church militant struggles continually to overcome sin progressively? It is clear that Russell denied any future, final, and discontinuous corporate judgment of the world by God. He was therefore unquestionably heretical -- a man who was wise initially to publish his book anonymously. It is clear that he also denied any future, final, and discontinuous corporate deliverance of the church militant from the bondage and curse of original sin. He was therefore unquestionably heretical.
His disciples now have the moral responsibility of deciding which of his possible heresies to accept by remaining his disciples: either Manicheanism or a combined package of perfectionism-Pelagianism. There is no orthodox theological way out for any follower of Russell who affirms the doctrine of original sin. By adopting Russell's theory of world history without a final judgment, but without Russell's perfectionism and Pelagianism, he must affirm an operational Manicheanism: a world without end and also without deliverance from sin. This view grants to Satan what the creeds and confessions deny: influence in history forever.
I recommend the immediate public recantation and personal repentance of Russell's theology. Barring this, I recommend the heretic's excommunication by his church's judicial body. But an excommunicant always retains his liberty of conscience. He has his choice among several possible Russellite heresies. Russell was a very creative theologian. He offered so many ways for his followers to drift into heresy. The elders should allow the accused member to identify the heresy for which he is then excommunicated.
Russell is typical of most one-shot theological heretics. He took his stand against the entire church, wrote one book, and let it go at that. But, in theology as in everything else, you cannot change just one thing. You cannot revise just one doctrine. Trinitarian theology after almost two millennia is a finely honed, carefully balanced enterprise. Orthodox theologians know that when anyone revises a single doctrine, even at the edges, a whole host of fall-out effects will result. An innovating theologian has an obligation to explore these unintended and unforeseen implications and deal with them before he releases his new discovery to the church.
Russell rejected the doctrine of final judgment. He wrote a narrowly focused monograph that promoted the obviously heretical position of "no final judgment and no end of history," and then he abandoned his disciples to take the consequences for defending his thesis. His thesis immediately raised the issue of Manicheanism vs. Pelagianism, but he provided no indication in his book that he recognized either implication. He did not try to deal with these issues exegetically or philosophically.
He initially published his book anonymously. This indicates that he recognized at least some of the personal risks in proposing such a creed-denying thesis. Most of his followers have not been equally alert to these risks. They have committed themselves emotionally and intellectually to a ticking time bomb. Russell made subversives out of most of his disciples. As awareness spreads among church officers regarding the dangerously heretical nature of his theology, only a few of his followers will avoid the accusation of being subversives: the frontal-assault kamikazes who are willing to go public in defense of his position. As laymen without any institutional base, they can be dealt with easily enough. The subversives in the churches are the main threat.