I paste below my response to Norman Geisler on the subject of allegorizing scripture:
Geisler wrote:
Tenth, [Steve Gregg] wrongly argues that several possible literal interpretations of a passages, as futurists have of some texts, is justification for preterists taking different allegorical interpretations of these literal events. This is an insightful example of a false analogy.
My response:
I sought no such justification. I was simply turning my esteemed critic’s argument back on himself. He seemed to imply that the diversity of opinions among preterists indicates the invalidity of the general position. I merely pointed out that there is an even higher degree of disagreement among dispensationalists. I was not seeking a “justification” for using an “allegorical interpretation.” I was saying that what Dr. Geisler thinks disqualifies preterism (i.e., differences of opinions among its advocates) would equally disqualify dispensationalism. However, I don’t think that either view is disqualified by the variety of opinions held among its advocates. If one view or another is to be disqualified, it must be on the basis of scriptural exegesis.
As a sidebar: neither I, nor any modern amillennialist or preterist, ever employ what can properly be called an “allegorical” interpretation of any passage in order to establish our eschatology. Dispensationalists (apparently perpetuating this mistake by merely quoting each other) have continually referred to the approach of amillennialists as the “allegorizing” hermenteutic, known to be characteristic of Origen’s writings (whom they decry as unorthodox).
I should have thought they would be better informed. “Allegorizing” is a specific approach to scriptural stories that was taken by many rabbis, by Philo, and (in the Christian movement) by members of the Alexandrian School, like Origen. This approach actually bears no resemblance to any method followed by any modern evangelical scholar in establishing doctrine.
Dispensationalists are so committed to asserting their loyalty to a “literal” hermeneutic, that they apparently have not familiarized themselves with the variety of ways in which a passage can be taken non-literally. The allegorical method was certainly one non-literal approach among many, but it has nothing whatsoever to do with preterist or amillennial methodologies.
When we read that a sower sowed seeds, and then learn that the story was not about literal seeds, but that seeds were symbolic of the word of God being preached, we are interpreting the story non-literally. But this is not the allegorical method. It is parable—a different non-literal way of speaking, commonly employed by the prophets and by Jesus.
When we read, in Revelation, that the whole world worships an animal having seven heads and ten horns, which eventually makes war against a Lamb, and then we later learn that the animal is not an animal at all, nor are the heads really heads but mountains, nor are the horns really horns, but kings, nor is the Lamb actually a literal lamb—we realize that we are again reading non-literal material, and will err if we interpret literally. But this is neither allegory nor parable, but apocalyptic symbolism.
Yet another form of non-literal interpretation, legitimized by it appearance in the writings of the New Testament, is “typological” interpretation. The recollection of Israel’s exodus from Egypt (in Hosea 11:1) is seen, by Matthew, as “fulfilled” in the coming of the infant Jesus out of Egypt—apparently recognizing Israel’s experience as a “type” of the Messiah’s. There is no way that this can be said to be a “literal” interpretation of Hosea 11:1. It is typological.
When we read, in Isaiah, that God will lay in Zion a foundation stone, and then we read, in 1 Peter 2:6, that this is not referring to a stone at all, but that it refers to Jesus, and the “Zion” of which He is “the foundation” is not the literal mountain in Israel, but is the church—again we find we are dealing with non-literal language and should interpret non-literally. This, however, is not a case of parable, allegory or apocalyptic, but the stone and Zion are understood “spiritually.” Thus we are expected to “spiritualize” the passage, as did the New Testament writers:
“But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem…to the general assembly and church of the firstborn who are registered in heaven…” (Hebrews 12:22-23)
"Allegorizing" is an entirely different method from those surveyed above. In many cases, the allegorist sees, in a simple story, many seemingly unrelated and unwarranted philosophical correspondences. Some examples of the kind of allegorization practiced by some Jewish teachers of Jesus’ day are given in the Jewish Encyclopedia:
"Men versed in natural philosophy explain the history of Abraham and Sarah in an allegorical manner with no inconsiderable ingenuity and propriety. The man here [Abraham] is a symbolical expression for the virtuous mind, and by his wife is meant virtue, for the name of his wife is Sarah ["princess"], because there is nothing more royal or more worthy of regal preeminence than virtue" ("De Abrahamo," xx. 8; ed. Mangey, ii. 15).
“[Josephus’] symbolical exposition of the Tabernacle with its utensils, and of the high priest's vestments ("Ant." iii. 7, § 7), and his interpretation that the Holy of Holies means the heavens, the showbread means the twelve months, and the candlestick means the seven planets, resemble Philo, but are merely resemblances. Similar explanations are repeatedly given by the Midrash…”
“The following is an illustration [of Philo’s allegorizations] from Genesis: ‘God planted a garden in Eden [Gen. ii. 5 et seq.]: that means God implants terrestrial virtue in the human race. The tree of life is that specific virtue which some people call goodness. The river that 'went out of Eden' is also generic goodness. Its four heads are the cardinal virtues; 'Pheison' is derived from the Greek ???????? (I abstain) and means 'prudence'; and, being an illustrious virtue, it is said 'to compass the whole land of Havilah where there is gold.'" The name "Gihon" means "chest" (see Gen. R. on the passage) and stands for courage, and it compasses Ethiopia, or humiliation. Tigris is "temperance"; the name is connected with a tiger because it resolutely opposes desire. Euphrates means "fertility" (Hebrew parah; see Gen. R.) and stands for "justice." In this way the patriarchs, however, are allegorized away into mere abstractions ("De Allegoriis Legum," i. 19 et seq.; ed. Mangey, i. 56 et seq.).”
(above examples from
http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/view. ... 6&letter=A)
Some ancient Christian writers—notably those of the Alexandrian School, like Origen—also employed a similar allegorizing method. However, no modern biblical exegete follows such a method, to my knowledge.
Milder forms of allegorizing were not unknown among the apostolic writings. Paul allegorized the story of Ishmael and Isaac—making their mothers to represent the two covenants, and the boys to represent the unbelieving Jews and the Christians, respectively (Galatians 4:22-31). He also took the law of not muzzling the ox and applied it allegorically to the rights of ministers, as though this were its primary meaning in the original law (1 Cor.9:9-10/ 1 Tim.5:17-18). He seems also to allegorize the law that forbids plowing with an ox and an ass together, when he writes: “Do not be unequally yoked together with unbelievers” (2 Cor.6:14). However, these cases did not follow such an arbitrary approach as did Philo and Origen. Paul’s practice simply saw a spiritual principle in the Old Testament example, and applied the same principle to New Testament truth.
Preterists and amillennialists, as well as dispensationalists, take many things non-literally, but I have never encountered an example of allegorizing in any of their theological polemics. Dispensationalists are fond of linking the amillennialists’ hermeneutics to “the allegorizing method of the non-orthodox Origen.” In continually making this association, dispensationalists demonstrate either their lack of familiarity with the hermeneutics of the evangelical amillennialist, or unfamiliarity with those of Origen—probably both.