A Review

Daniel G. Hummel, The Rise and Fall of Dispensationalism: How the Evangelical Battle Over the End times Shaped a Nation (Eerdmans, 2023), 400 pages, $29.99

What Sort of Book Is This?

Daniel Hummel’s book is not written to defend or refute the dispensational approach to biblical prophecy and the end times. I noticed a fair bit of pre-publication chatter to that effect, so it is important to tamp down that expectation now that the volume is available. What Hummel has done is to write a thorough, quick-paced, and well-sourced history of the origin, development, and current status of what we speak of today as “dispensationalism.” Hummel’s “nothing but the facts” approach makes the book hard to review since the author moves quickly through the history of the movement with but minimal amounts of evaluation along the way. This is the proper method for a volume such as this one, but leaves little about which a reviewer might quibble.

The most significant thing to note about The Rise and Fall of Dispensationalism is that Hummel situates the rise of a distinct dispensational theology within the broader context of what we often identify as “American evangelicalism.” This is Hummel’s purpose, one which he accomplishes quite well, and which is very valuable in its own right. But this broader perspective can also be a bit frustrating for those who participate in a more nuanced and related space which Hummel only addresses tangentially—the internecine debate about whether or not dispensationalism provides a helpful, and dare I say “biblical” manner of interpreting the Bible. Those readers of the Riddleblog who are interested in Hummel’s volume should keep his purpose in mind so as not be disappointed in what they will find. This is not a refutation of dispensationalism. Hummel’s book is exactly what it claims to be—an account of the rise of a distinctive dispensational theology in the 1830’s until its most recent period of development, which Hummel identifies as the “pop dispensationalism” of the Trump era. This is an historical account of dispensationalism and the role it has played in the development of American evangelicalism, and a well-written and important one at that. Hummel’s book is therefore must reading for anyone interested in eschatology, the rise of American evangelicalism, or who might have deep dispensational roots as does the author and this reviewer.

As I proceed then, I’ll briefly summarize the history of dispensationalism as set out by Hummel. But I will begin with Hummel’s vitae and his eschatological terminology.

The Author—Daniel G. Hummel

Daniel G. Hummel, a historian of religion, holds degrees from Colorado State University (B.A., M.A.) and a Ph.D. in history from the University of Wisconsin (Madison). He is currently part of Upper House, a Christian study center at UW-Madison. I was unfamiliar with him until this volume was published.

Hummel was raised in a Christian home by dispensationalist parents (344). His current theological allegiances are not stated, but he does point to N. T. Wright’s Surprised by Hope (Harper 2008) as an approach to the subject with which he is sympathetic (338). I am far less appreciative of Wright’s volume which I reviewed here, A "Review" of N. T. Wright's "Surprised by Hope." Along with Wright, Hummel points to J. Richard Middleton’s A New Heaven and Earth (Baker 2014), and Lesslie Newbigin’s The Gospel in a Pluralistic Society (Eerdmans, 1989) as offering a biblical and comprehensive eschatology, one which he hopes will replace dispensationalism as a unifying eschatology among “Anglicans and Reformed” Christians so as to “transcend fundamentalist factionalism” (338). I get why fundamentalist factionalism is problematic. But the reason for his identification of these two particular groups (Anglican and Reformed) in this context remains unclear to me.

An Important Caveat About Terminology

Those who keep up with contemporary debates about biblical prophecy may find Hummel’s use of eschatological terminology a bit confusing. In an attempt not to be anachronistic (i.e., in this case, to use a modern label for a view which never identified itself as such until much later in the course of its development), Hummel opts for “new premillenialism” when speaking of “dispensationalism” as a distinct theological system prior to the coining of the now widely used term. “Dispensationalism” was a pejorative label slapped upon those whom Hummel identifies as “new premillennarians” by a militant ex-new premillennarian, Philip Mauro, in 1927. The dispensational label stuck once Louis Sperry Chafer reluctantly began using the label some time after the founding of Dallas Theological Seminary (DTS) in 1924. “New” premillennialism is used to contrast what later became dispensationalism from historic premillennialism—a position which contends that Jesus will return to establish his consummated kingdom upon the earth, but which usually rejects dispensational distinctives such as the church-Israel distinction, and the delay of the full arrival of Christ’s kingdom until the millennial age.

Furthermore, Hummel speaks of the dispensational system of the rapture of Gentiles, followed by a seven-year future tribulation period, the appearance of the Antichrist, and the final battle of Armageddon, as “dispensational time,” since not all new premillennarians held to such a framework, specifically those now identified as “post-tribulationists.” I’m not convinced that the use of “dispensational time” is all that helpful. Whenever I use the term “dispensationalism,” I am speaking of the classic system which includes the above-mentioned distinctives, and I am sure most other writers in my camp do as well. Hummel also distinguishes “scholastic” dispensationalism from “pop” dispensationalism. The former, he says, is that articulated and defended by the theologians of DTS as set forth in the school’s academic journal, Bibliotheca Sacra. The names of these influential men are quite familiar to us: Louis Sperry Chafer, John Walvoord, J. Dwight Pentecost, and Charles Ryrie. Hummel speaks of “pop” dispensationalism as those end-times prognosticators who follow in the very successful wake of Hal Lindsey, including figures such as Tim LaHaye, Chuck Smith, and a host of others who have had significant influence upon American evangelicalism.

Hummel is absolutely correct in distinguishing the two varieties of dispensationalism. I think his “pop dispensationalism” moniker works quite well. I too faced this dilemma in my own writing in the field, as there are obviously two kinds of dispensationalists, a scholarly/academically serious variety, and those whom I snarkily identify as “prophecy pundits” who assume the dispensational system to be correct but spend their time explaining how current events point to the imminent “rapture,” and the revelation of the Antichrist—usually done in a sensationalized and media-savvy manner. But Hummel’s use of “scholastic” dispensationalism is to my mind an unfortunate choice, given the amount of energy recently devoted to discussing the Reformed tradition’s relationship to the “scholastic method” as categorizing the influences upon so many of our theologians in the Reformation and post-Reformation periods. Surely, a better, less confusing term could have been used. We Reformed folk would appreciate it since whenever I think of DTS, I think of a long-standing dispensational institution and a serious if wrong-headed approach to the Bible, but certainly not “scholastic” which has an entirely different frame of reference.

My reason for beginning this review by pointing out the pros and cons of Hummel’s terminological definitions is that his book will very likely become the standard text on the subject and his definitions with all their clarification and confusion will be widely used. Although he mentions several authors writing from the perspective of Reformed amillennarianism (eschatology understood through the lens of covenant theology) such as O. T. Allis, and well-known DTS trained Reformed scholars such as Bruce Waltke and G. K. Beale, the familiar name of Geerhardus Vos gets a scant mention. But Meredith Kline, Anthony Hoekema, Cornelis Venema, and Michael Horton are not mentioned at all despite the key roles they have played in the demise of scholarly dispensationalism. I point this out because Hummel writes from outside the Reformed amillennial camp (although he treats us fairly), and his purpose is not give his readers a play by play account of the on-going Reformed amillennial contribution to the decline of scholarly, academically serious dispensationalism. To the point, his terminology could very well be confusing in future interaction and debate with dispensationalists by those of us who still engage in it. “Pop dispensationalism” works, “scholastic” dispensationalism doesn’t.

The Origin of Dispensationalism

Hummel begins at the beginning with John Nelson Darby (1800-1882) who is considered the founder of the movement. Hummel notes several things of importance. Darby was a member of the Plymouth Brethren, a group of Irish and English dissenters from the Anglican communion who felt that the national church had fallen into a deep state of apostasy. Darby was a key figure in the movement, but not the sole figure (6 ff). Hummel curtly and correctly dismisses the speculation that Darby was influenced by an emotionally troubled young woman, Margaret McDonald, who supposedly revealed to him the idea of a “secret” rapture (305). A prolific writer, Darby cranked out 19 million words over his career, championing three main theological distinctives: a new theology for the church, a new theology of the millennium, and establishing a dualism between heaven and earth “which informed how he read the entire Bible” (21). Darby wanted a clergy-less church along Brethren lines, and he eschewed the postmillennialism of his age, seeing the church’s current state of apostasy as a refutation of the expectation of progress in all areas of life championed by postmillennarians (21-22). Hummel points out that Darby distinguished God’s purposes for ancient Israel and the church, “the patriarchs and prophets were not proto-Christians, nor was the church the new Israel” (23). The latter also distinguished the “kingdom of God” from “the kingdom of heaven,” (as in Matthew’s gospel) and the “rapture” from the second coming of Christ (23-24). Here, says Hummel, was a new type of Christian identity (24). Indeed, Darby set forth the skeletal structure of what became the dispensational system known to so many American evangelicals. Darby’s missionary efforts to spread his new system are well described by Hummel.

The Spread and Increasing Influence of Dispensationalism

When taking up the spread of Brethren views into the mission field of America, Hummel identifies a key motivator in Brethren efforts—to “evangelize the denominations” (27). This reflected Brethren disdain for the apostate churches and their clergy. Although in many cases, the Brethren were correct in making such charges, from the beginning this sowed the seeds of the distrust of existing denominations. Over time, the movement moved away from its earlier stress upon personal discipleship. Once Brethren distinctives were embraced in America, the haphazard process began of building new churches and institutions in support of a popular “conference movement,” funded and governed independently of those churches which were thought to oppose the original Brethren distinctives. Although undergoing significant mutation in populist America, the common enemy of Brethren influenced Christians remained obvious—unbelieving liberal/progressive theology and/or the erroneous (non-premillennarian) views of the end times as taught by the orthodox confessional churches (i.e., the Reformed, Presbyterian, and Lutheran churches).

The Brethren movement was largely a grass roots endeavor, making appeal to Christian folk who did not find sufficient gospel fervor and relevance to daily life in their current churches. The long-standing American distrust of institutions, pointy-headed academics, and ecclesiastic boundaries (such as the creeds and confessions of those churches of Reformation heritage) provided fertile soil in which Brethren distinctives quickly took root in America—especially after the Civil War when there was regional conflict (North versus South), ideological conflict (slavery), a population upheaval (migration to northern cities), along with a general sense among Christians seeking something more meaningful post war. This was very fertile soil indeed for dispensational ideas to spread. And spread they did in the decades following the Civil War (51-65).

Hummel’s survey of this period is most helpful because it is usually overlooked. Men like James Hall Brookes (a Presbyterian) and Joseph Seiss (a Lutheran minister) embraced premillennialism, as did the famed preacher Charles Spurgeon, as well as the well-known hymn writer Horatious Bonar. Frederick Grant’s popular Numerical Bible became the basis for C.I. Scofield’s, The Scofield Reference Bible of 1909. It was Grant who introduced a two-tiered Christian life scheme (“the “higher life,” or the “Victorious Christian” into the burgeoning dispensational bloodstream (77), a teaching which later dispensationalists were never quite able to shake and which raised concern and scrutiny from confessional Protestants. B. B. Warfield, for one, saw in the incorporation of higher life principles into dispensationalism, a serious departure from a proper understanding of justification sole fide and sanctification as justification’s necessary concomitant (Warfield's "Review" of Lewis Sperry Chafer's "He That Is Spiritual" (Part One).

But it fell to the American evangelist Dwight L. Moody (1837-1899), a disciple of C. I. Scofield, who used the doctrine of Christ’s second advent as motivation for stress upon evangelism and missions, post-Civil War reconciliation, and ministry to the poor, all of which plowed the field from which dispensational doctrines would push aside the old premillenialism. Hummel describes Moody as “no theologian” (85) who embraced Brethren eschatology as well as “higher life” teaching, both of which were gaining popularity in America (88). Hummel describes Moody’s evangelistic appeal as “Jesus can come at any moment, and you don’t want to be left behind” (89).

This approach was new to many Americans but in the uncertainly of the post Civil War “gilded age” it made sense to many. Hummel also notes that Moody’s message, with it stress upon forgiveness and reconciliation brought white Americans from North and South together—important if the nation was to move on from such a terrible war (89). But Moody’s emphases tended to ignore social justice issues (especially race) then beginning to simmer. Hummel concludes that Moody was “the most consequential religious leader in the nineteenth century” (90). The reason why? The American evangelist was able to fuse premillennialism (in the form of a “proto-dispensationalism”) and revivalism into a “potent and widely successful message” (90). Along with Moody’s rise to prominence came the musician Ira Sankey, who possessed a strong and stirring voice along with the editorial skills to pull together the phenomenally successful hymnal Sacred Songs, which Hummel identifies as “the gospel canon” of American hymnody (93). Through the “practical preaching” of Moody and his lieutenants, the burgeoning evangelical movement had the message Christians wanted to hear. In the work of Sankey and his song book, Sacred Songs, American Christians had the music they wanted to sing. No Dwight Moody, no Ira Sankey, and no American evangelicalism as we know it.

Since Hummel tells the story so well, I simply highlight the list of premillennial institutions and practices which arose in the wake of Moody and Sankey (chapters six through nine), out of which developed a distinct “dispensationalism”—the child of the prior generation’s generic premillennialism: (1) Interdenomnationalism, (2) The prophecy conferences (especially the Niagara Conference) which thrive alongside of, or independent of, the established churches and which, in turn, created a distinct premillenneial sub-culture, (3) The Bible Institutes (Moody Bible in Chicago, the Bible Institute of Los Angeles—Biola, etc.), (4) The rise to notoriety of influential premillennial luminaries such as R. A. Torrey, G. Campbell Morgan, Arno Gaebelein, W. Griffth-Thomas et. al. and, (5) A standard annotated Bible (the Scofield Reference Bible) which served the same role for dispensationalists that the Geneva Bible had done for the Reformed and Puritans.

Hummel also describes significant dissent appearing in the ranks, especially that of Philip Mauro (1859-1952), a troubled soul who coined the term “dispensationalism” in 1927 as part of a “torrent of criticism on what [Mauro] . . . described as the `modern postponement theory of the kingdom of God’” (155). Mauro’s ire toward the Scofield Reference Bible led to a number of publications, many of which became identified with “fundamentalism” (157), which was the reduction of Christian theology to a few central doctrines which could unite Christians across denominational lines against the progressive anti-supernaturalism of those such as Harry Emerson Fosdick (chapter ten). Hummel places J. G. Machen in the fundamentalist camp, but as others (such as D. G. Hart) have pointed out, Machen is far better understood as a confessional Presbyterian trying to preserve the doctrinal integrity of the Presbyterian churches against the rising tide of progressive theology within that body.

Hummel’s treatment of the rise of “scholastic” dispensationalism (chapter eleven) documents the founding of Dallas Theological Seminary in 1924 by L. S. Chafer, whom Hummel describes as “an interdenominational Bible teacher and a promoter of ‘dispensational time’” (i.e., the dispensational tweaking of premillennialism through a now well established dispensational hermeuneutic). The founding of DTS, with eight of the original faculty being Southern Presbyterians (Chafer among them), was, according to Hummel “one of the most consequential events in the history of dispensationalism” (183). Indeed, it was. And it was Philip Mauro, who provoked Chafer to identify himself as a “dispensationalist” in the pages of DTS’s scholarly journal, Bibliotheca Sacra, in 1936 (187). Chafer also began work on his eight-volume statement and defense of the dispensational system (Chafer’s Systematic Theology), completed in 1947, and reprinted many times since. Chafer claimed this work was an improvement of older Protestant theology, and a “recovery of vital truth in the Reformation” (188). The Reformed begged to differ.

Chafer’s efforts continued to provoke Mauro, who wrote frequently and directly against dispensationalism. The year 1936 marked the entrance into the fray of O. T. Allis and John Murray from the newly founded Westminster Theological Seminary (WTS) in Philadelphia in 1929. William Hendricksen (professor of New Testament at Calvin Theological Seminary) published his commentary on the Book of Revelation in 1939. The battle was now joined. Allis wrote that dispensationalism was “divisive,” Murray spoke of it as leading to “disastrous consequences” and Hendricksen sought to show that the Reformed amillennial view made much more sense of the Book Revelation than could DTS’s bible expositors (197). Hummel points out that for the next decade these men hammered away at dispensationalism. The immediate consequence was that the faculty and student body of DTS became much less Presbyterian and made up far more of independents and baptists (199). As a consequence of these debates and the changing mood in post-World War II America, American evangelicalism underwent significant change which brought with it the fall of “scholarly dispensationalism” and rise of “pop” dispensationalism, a huge force in American Christianity and culture.

The Fall of Dispensationalism

Hummel’s treatment of dispensationalism’s role in the politicization and formation of a distinct and commercially successful American evangelical subculture, along with its impact upon American culture and politics in general is a familiar but well-told story. Hummel contends that the rise of “pop” dispensationalism—that variety of dispensationalism which he describes as “shifting from the seminary to the sales chart” (256)—has had as much to do with the decline of scholarly dispensational as the myriad of other factors which have contributed to the “fall” of the movement now “on its last legs.” Pop dispensationalism is built on the assumptions of scholarly dispensationalism, but in making appeal to mass markets and media, especially in regard to the “pre-trib” rapture and the events in the Middle East in which the nation of Israel and its original geographical boundaries are threatened, pop dispensationalism had become fully autonomous (326). Hummel contends that “dispensational theology was treated as a source book or an inherited cultural language rather than an active theological tradition requiring methods of self-perpetuation” (257-258). In making this point, Hummel is undoubtedly correct. I will return to this matter momentarily.

But among the other factors mentioned by Hummel which contributed to the fall of scholarly dispensationalism (especially at DTS), was the establishment of Fuller Theological Seminary (FTS) in Pasadena, CA in 1947 (with evangelical luminaries such as E. J. Carnell, George Ladd, and Carl Henry joining the faculty). In the first several decades of its existence, Fuller could rival DTS’s opposition to progressive theology (an evangelical requirement of this period), yet still be able to interact with a broader range of biblical scholarship without the dispensational baggage which would eventually marginalize DTS (203-211). Furthermore, the continued critique of the dispensational system from confessional institutions such as WTS and then Westminster Seminary California (established in 1980) along with the defection of DTS trained scholars such as G. K. Beale and Bruce Waltke to WTS, certainly weakened DTS’s reputation as the dispensational citadel (307). And then there was the defection of popular author and pastor Sam Storms, who produced his withering insider critique of the dispensational system in his 2013 book, Kingdom Come (308). Even the most prominent contemporary dispensationalist, John MacArthur, identifies himself as a ”leaky” dispensationalist, although he still maintains significant dispensationalist distinctives (309-312). MacArthur just may be the last of his kind.

Yet another factor during this period was the rise of “progressive dispensationalism” championed by a younger generation of dispensational scholars operating within dispensational or dispensational-adjacent institutions. These men, notes Hummel, were “able to find continuity where traditionalists emphasized discontinuity” (314). Chafer’s hard and fast distinctions between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of heaven, the church and Israel, along with the delay of the kingdom until the millennial age and issues of law and grace, were increasingly seen through the lens of continuity (314). Among those on the side of increasing emphasis upon continuity were DTS professors Darrell Bock and Craig Blaising, and Talbot Seminary Professor, Robert Saucy. Hummel identifies the guiding principle in this shift away from Chafer’s stress upon discontinuity as George Ladd’s “inaugurated eschatology” (316), which Ladd, in part, drew from Geerhardus Vos (see Ladd, The Gospel of the Kingdom, 1959, in which Ladd, on page 42, incorporates Vos’s two age chart from page 38 of the Pauline Eschatology with but slight modification).

The factors identified by Hummel certainly contributed to the fall of scholarly dispensationalism: the rise of FTS, the changes taking place within American evangelicalism, on-going theological critique from outside and the defections from within, along with the rise of progressive dispensationalism, which is very much like the “old” or historic premillennialism in which dispensationalism originally took root (7). But the critical factor in dispensationalism’s fall is the second type, “pop” dispensationalism. Hummel characterizes it, “with rapidly depleting stores of historical resources,” and with “little institutional support, the prospects for their replenishment were bleak. Pop dispensational culture, which is what overwhelmingly shaped evangelical churches and media, was poor sustenance for anything but populist and commercial folk religion” (319). Hummel goes on to note that “with the crack-up of fundamentalist theology after the 1970s, dispensationalism was the clear loser. Forged in a moment of heightened introspection about the failures of fundamentalist activism in the 1920s, dispensationalism would never escape its fractious origins” (319). Hummel’s postmortem report tells us that “there were no gatekeepers for pop dispensationalism, but there remained a uniformity of political and cultural prescriptions curated by a new Christian right that continued to exhibit a pop dispensational sensibility” (324).

If scholarly dispensationalism has fallen (and no longer plays a gate-keeping role), where does pop dispensationalism go next? “By the 2010’s, pop dispensationalism was feeding into a resurgent Christian nationalist movement that continued to see itself as rightful stewards of American culture” (332). Hummel doesn’t say so, but I will. A politicized movement tied closely to pop culture and trendy media has long since lost its focus upon Christ crucified for sinners and at some point will go the way of all flesh. I lament the loss of scholarly dispensationalism, not because I think it “biblical” but because the old guard kept pop dispensationalism in check. That is no longer the case. Hummel ends his account with the Trump era, but with the uncertainty generated by Covid-19, the war in Ukraine, and the threat of war with China, political tribalism, the rise of woke ideology and the push back against it, pop dispensationalists are once again hard at work cranking out new end-times scenarios with DTS no longer able or willing to police them. But Hummel does point out that “the energy and content production of covenantal critics” and their “on-line hubs” may serve such a function (330-331). Let’s hear it for on-line covenantal hubs!

As a final matter of personal interest, Hummel notes that Louis Bauman (1875-1850), the pastor of Grace Brethren Church in Long Beach, CA (known as the “church at Fifth and Cherry”) was among the first of the dispensationalists to devote significant attention to tying current events to directly dispensational expectations regarding the last days (216-220). Bauman was a keen observer of the events then taking placing in Germany and Italy before the war broke out. In the pages of a series of booklets addressing the question of whether or not the Jews were entering into the time of “Jacob’s trouble” (taken from Jeremiah 30:5-7, and often associated with the seven year tribulation), Bauman saw the rise of Hitler and Mussolini as in some ways connected to the revival of the Roman empire as the end times persecutor of the Jewish people and which would lead to the removal of Gentile Christians in the rapture. This provoked both a chuckle from me and a walk down memory lane. I am quite familiar with these booklets, since a number of them were bequeathed to me by my Brethren grandmother, Ruth. She and my grandfather (Glenn) were charter members of “Fifth and Cherry” and pastor Bauman performed the marriage of my parents on June 21, 1941. My sister and I attended that church in our youth, and she could even recall the musty smell of the children’s Sunday school classes years later.

Yes, I have deep dispensational roots. Very deep roots. And Daniel Hummel effectively tells the story against which much of my Christian life and career have taken place.

Thank you, Dr. Hummel for this very important history of dispensationalism! I heartily recommend it to readers of the Riddleblog.