Of Wickedness, Blessing and Gratitude

4 July 2010

Today we celebrate our freedom from foreign domination.  Our fathers had a compact with their king.  Parliament, with no legal standing whatsoever, violated that compact, and despite many appeals for protection, our king allowed it to happen.  With no choices but to submit to unlawful tyranny or fight, our fathers chose to take up arms.  God judged between our fathers on one hand, and the scofflaw Parliament and tyrannical king on the other, and today we celebrate the results.  A ragged band of colonists, short on supplies of every kind, fought the greatest military power in the world of their day.  God granted them strength beyond their numbers, tenacity beyond any reasonable expectation, favor in the eyes of their allies, and ultimately, victory.

Praise Yahweh, the house of Hanover is fallen.

A nation so blessed with freedom from tyranny ought to respect that God-given legacy, and honor the One who gave it.

We have not.

  • We have repeatedly, even habitually, disregarded the biblical ethics that govern just war.  Our sins range from  straightforward wars for others’ territory (Mexican War, Spanish-American War) to the deliberate slaughter of civilians and destruction of their sustenance (Sherman’s march to the sea in the War Between the States, the area bombing and firestorm tactics of WWII, of which Dresden is only the most famous of many examples).
  • We have allowed the creation of a fiat money system that steals purchasing power from those who have worked and saved their money, and puts that purchasing power back in the hands of the government and its designees through inflation.  This is using false weights and measures, and it is an abomination to the Lord.
  • We have legally sacrificed nearly 50 million babies to the false gods of  financial, social and sexual convenience–our very own Molech.  We add more than a million to that number every year.

I could go on; I won’t.

But the world is a messy place, and the news is not all bad.  The same country that committed all the above crimes is also the hub of unprecedented good deeds:

  • Americans are by far the most generous people on earth.  Our charitable contributions, measured either in total or per capita, dwarf those of the world’s other nations.
  • Largely through the efforts of American missionaries, mission agencies and supporting churches, the gospel has gone out to the ends of the earth.
  • Bible translation efforts, again funded by American largess, have exploded.  The contribution of Christian missionaries to linguistics is so significant that when the Long Now Foundation produced their famous Rosetta Disk, they used Genesis 1 as an exemplar passage–because the Bible was the only document translated into more than a few hundred languages. In other words, we were the only ones that cared enough to go and learn all the languages of the world; the linguists had to deal with us because we were the only ones who had the information they wanted.

These things are possible for us because God has blessed us with power and wealth; He has been kind to us far beyond what our sins deserve.  Israel was judged harshly for the same crimes that we have committed.  Whence this kindness to us?  Romans tells us that the kindness of God is intended to lead us to repentance.

On this day, of all days, let us be grateful for our fathers, most of whom loved and served the God of Israel, and tried to found a Christian country.  Let us be grateful that God has been kind to us although we have not honored their legacy as we ought to have done.  And let us pray for the repentance of our nation before it is too late.

America! America!
God mend thine every flaw,
Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy liberty in law!


A Praise

7 June 2010

Truly, all wisdom is Yours,
And from Your lips come knowledge and discernment.
Before I cried out to You,
Before the prayer was formed in my heart,
Your eyes saw my plight
And You gave Your servant understanding.

Therefore I will praise You while I live,
I will bless Your name in the company of Your saints.
For You have dealt bountifully with me.

Sing to the Lord, my nation!
And kneel before the Lamb, all you nations of the earth!
Serve Him gladly, for He is great;
Inquire of Him, for in Him is all wisdom and knowledge.

He founded the seas;
He conceived the plankton before any existed.
The blue whale is His;
His mouth spoke the hummingbird,
The lions in their pride and the larks in their exaltation.
The ebbing tides proclaim His glory,
And the rising mountains utter His words.

Who is like Yahweh?
Show me, and I will praise him.
Who is like the Son of God?
Display him, and every knee will bow.
But the gods live at His pleasure,
And at His rebuke they will burn like chaff.


Revivalism+Pietism+Free Grace Gospel=Death

23 May 2010

American Christian culture is revivalistic and pietistic, and when we mix those prevailing elements with the Free Grace gospel message as it is commonly presented, the results are spiritually debilitating, if not fatal.

Revivalism teaches us that the individual conversion experience is by far the most important spiritual experience of a person’s life.  You’ll hear a man telling the story of how he met his wife say something like “…and then I asked her to marry me, and amazingly, she said yes.  It was the most important day of my life — except for when I came to Christ, of course.”

Pietism teaches us that it is not the externals that matter, but the internal condition of the heart before God.

Combined, these two teach that an internal, heart conversion is the quintessence of spiritual experience, and everything else comes in a distant second.

That’s already all kinds of wrong, but let it pass for now.

Add to that already dangerous mix the biblical gospel message: being born into God’s family is a free gift, not dependent in any way on your own works before, during, or after the new birth.  Once you’re in, you’re in forever.

The sum is this: the quintessence of all spiritual experience is a totally free, internal, heart conversion that delivers you from hell and unchangeably guarantees you a place in heaven.  That is by far the most important moment of your life; nothing else even comes close.  Of course you’re supposed to do good works and all that, but that’s very secondary to having the conversion experience itself, which is given to you and to which you can contribute nothing.

What sort of life does that teaching produce?

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Let’s ask it a different way.  Suppose someone really believed that physical birth was the high point of his whole life.  Being squeezed out through the birth canal was as good as it was ever going to get, and everything else was downhill from there.  Isn’t that a twisted way to look at life?

What sort of life do you think that person is likely to have?

Would you be surprised if that person became suicidal?

Me neither.

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Believing that spiritual birth is the high-water mark of the whole Christian life induces spiritual suicide.

FG believers need to understand that until we root out the underlying culture of revivalism and pietism among us, people will come to Christ based on a clear, correct gospel message, and then immediately get confused because at a deep, deep level, they can’t face believing that the high-water mark of their spiritual experience is already behind them.  Revivalism does that already without a FG gospel message, but our clarity on the place of discipleship vis-a-vis the new birth forces the issue into high relief.

People need to believe that the rest of their life matters, and that “further up, and further in” there are glorious heights that await them.  We have allowed them to think that getting into heaven is by far the most important thing, so in a move as unpredictable as sunrise, they begin to think that getting into heaven depends on how they live the rest of their lives.

That is a fatal mistake for an unbeliever.  For someone who’s already believed, it’s still a dangerous, terribly unhealthy mistake to become confused on this point.  But it is not nearly as unhealthy, not nearly as suicide-inducing, as believing that the best and most important spiritual experience of their lives is already behind them.

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Which is to say that the Free Grace theology commonly presented fails to win a hearing because its end product, taken as a whole, is often more spiritually destructive to the life of a believer than the end product of, say, Reformed or Arminian theologies — which at least give some motivation to keep moving — and at some deep level, people seem to recognize it.

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So what do we do?

We go back to the text of Scripture. Where, pray tell, do we see Scripture supporting the idea that conversion is the most important spiritual experience you’ll ever have?

Nowhere I know of.  If you’ve got a passage, by all means let me know.  I’d love to see it.

As far as I can tell, Scripture is not a revivalistic document.  Imagine Moses telling the Exodus Generation, “All right, you’ve just been delivered from bondage and passed through the Red Sea, and that is the most important event that will ever happen to you as a nation.  Nothing else will even come close.”  Imagine Joshua telling the Conquest Generation, “All right, you’ve crossed the Jordan and entered into the Land.  This is the most important thing that will ever happen to you.”  Ridiculous, yes?  There was more to do, further heights to be attained.  True, they could never have reached those further heights without the initial step, but that doesn’t mean that all the focus should be on the initial step.

In fact, of those two generations, one committed suicide by refusing to keep moving forward.  The other pressed on, and achieved everything God had planned for them.  The initial experience, while important, was neither most important, nor did it complete God’s agenda.

We see the same pattern in the New Testament.  Jesus commissions His disciples to “go therefore, and disciple the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.”  Note where the focus is: not on the initial evangelism, although certainly it’s not possible to fulfill the Great Commission without that, but on making disciples.  That means continuing to learn and grow and develop into all that Christ intended each person to be.  And this is the focus of Christ’s parables as well.  Scholars dispute about whether the thorny ground and stony ground represent truly regenerate people, and about whether the servant who buried his one talent in the ground represents someone who goes to heaven or hell.  (Yes, and heaven, but that’s another post.)  The point here is that no matter which side of that debate an interpreter might take, nobody thinks starting well and finishing badly is the goal.  Everyone understands that the goal is to be the good ground, the servants with five or ten talents — that is, to be a believer who goes on to maturity and becomes all that a believer should be.

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So just for giggles, let me make a modest proposal.  I’m not saying it’s true, and I’m certainly not attached to it.  I can’t prove it.  I don’t know of anywhere in the Bible that says anything like this.  (Have I put in enough disclaimers yet?)  However, I think it will be good exercise to see if you can prove it wrong.

Here it is: The day you came to Christ might be the most important day of your life up to that point, but it is the least important day of your life as a Christian. Who you will be as a Christian depends on every day after that, and every one of them is more important than the day of your birth — today being the most important of all.


Hermeneutics is not a Science

24 February 2010

…not the way anybody understand the word today, at any rate.

Of course we defend the notion of hermeneutical science by repairing to some of the older definitions of the word science, chiefly the ones that boil down to “knowledge.”  And there’s nothing wrong with referring to hermeneutical knowledge.

But today, when you hear the word science, you think of experimental science, that endeavor begun by Christians as an investigation of God’s creation, but which has today morphed into a false god in its own right–and one which our society publicly worships.  In our eyes, science gave us rocket ships, birth control, the microwave oven, the vacuum cleaner, cheap produce from Chile, and Christmas vacations with Grandma, even though she lives on the other side of the country.   Religion, on the other hand, gave us the Crusades, the Inquisition, the Salem witch trials and 9/11.  So we worship science, by which we mean both God-less humanistic empiricism and knowledge about the real, tangible world — as sharply opposed to the fantasy world of religion.

(In truth, science, even done by atheists, continues to survive on the borrowed capital of its Christian roots, but that’s another post.)

The point here is, science today is the name of an idol, and attaching the idol’s name to something gives it a veneer of respectability which is, of course, borrowed from the idol by association.  Hence Brand X Whitening Strips, scientifically proven to make your teeth gleam, Acme Weight Loss Pills, scientifically shown to reduce weight by an average of 10 pounds in 3 months, and so on.  Scientifically in this usage means really, actually, in the real world — again, as distinctly opposed to the fantasy world of religion.  Can you imagine someone advertising Brand X Whitening Strips as religiously proven to make your teeth gleam?   Endorsed by five pastors instead of five scientists?

In this climate, when an American evangelical talks about the science of hermeneutics, he is dressing biblical interpretation in the borrowed robes of godless empiricism in order to make it respectable to our God-hating society.  “No, really,” he whines,  “hermeneutics is an objective science.”  This is just begging for table scraps–and from the table of demons, at that.

There are two sets of problems here.  The first is that too many of us believe our own propaganda.  Many evangelicals today, especially of the more conservative sort, really do think that the study of the Bible is a purely empirical matter, and when they contend vociferously that hermeneutics is a science, they really do mean the word in an idolatrous way.  They mean that when you set up your textual sausage-grinder with the proper set of hermeneutical principles, you can shove a text into the top of the grinder, turn the crank, and the meaning comes out the side in a nice, neat casing–and the same meaning comes out the same way, no matter who turns the crank, as long as the principles are right.

Therefore, so the reasoning goes, a great exegete can be a towering saint, a liberal buffoon or a heresiarch; doesn’t make any difference.  If he’s a scholar and his hermeneutics are sound, then…

The problem here is that God did not write the Scriptures to be studied as a detached academic pursuit, but to be studied diligently in order to be believed and obeyed — every word, every letter, every last i-dot and serif.  To claim that an academic curiosity-seeker can subject the text to his idolatrous sausage-grinder and get the same meaning as an obedient saint is just silly.  If it happens, it is a miracle, and purely God’s kindness to the academic.

To read the Word of God is to encounter God Himself speaking, and this cannot be done in a neutral way.  The reader is always for God or against Him, and this orientation greatly influences the interpretive endeavor.  But that’s only the beginning.

The other bit is that a believer who has believed the propaganda is going to miss much of the Bible too.  The Bible is not a science experiment.  It is not a systematic theology text.  It cannot profitably be read like one.  The Bible is art, and God is the artist.  It is laden with associations, symbols, foreshadowing, jokes, double entendres, and connotations.  Words don’t mean just one thing; metaphors adorn nearly every sentence; symbols abound.  Literal meaning is present — richly present — but in the same way that it’s present in a good painting.  We have no extant photographs, but let us suppose (correctly, I should think) that the Mona Lisa looks like the model who sat for it.  It is a good likeness; the literal meaning is there.  If we look at the Mona Lisa and say, “a photograph would have been better” — that is the literalist’s eye, and it’s true as far as it goes.  Sort of.  It misses a great deal of richness and depth that is present in the painting, and would not be in the photograph.  The Bible is a painting, not a photograph.  It is literally true, just like a painting — and not like a photograph.

So to return to the matter of how we describe the interpretive endeavor: Hermeneutics is not so impoverished and so easy that we could call it a science.  I have a suggestion for a substitute term, one that takes into account that God is an artist and it takes an artist’s eye to read His word skillfully–but which also takes into account that there really are rules and systematic principles involved in interpretation.  Here it is: hermeutics is a discipline — an art and a craft.  The word craft suggests a craftsman, and we all recognize that craftsmanship matters, and varies from one craftsman to the next.  The principles may be timeless, but each person incarnates them a little differently, and those differences matter.

If this is the case, what would we expect to see?  We should expect that different interpreters interpret differently.  And as they grow in the image of Christ, their craft increases and their art expands–and they converge on one another, because they are growing closer to the same Triune God.

This, I submit, is what we actually see in the world.  Academics can be, and often are, bitter enemies–as are academically-oriented pastors (you know who you are, boys).  Men who walk with God find ways to be friends with one another.  The more they walk with God, the more they recognize one another as fellow godly men–even though they may differ deeply on academic theological matters.  Moreover, in matters of worship and practice, they converge on one another.  They may ‘do the theological math’ differently, but they increasingly come up with the same answers, however framed in the language of their respective traditions.

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I would love to hear some feedback on this.  Fire away — what do you think?  What have I missed?


Should Christians Imitate Animals?

3 February 2010

If you’ve ever watched a Jackie Chan flick or two, you are probably aware that there are many, many martial arts that are modeled on an imitation of one animal or another.  There are tiger styles, crane styles, preying mantis, lion, bear, monkey, snake, rooster, crab, and even dragon, phoenix and unicorn.   And many, many more.

I occasionally meet a well-meaning Christian who objects that it’s not right for a human being to cultivate the imitation of animals, and that therefore the animal stylings in martial arts should not be practiced by Christians.  God commanded us to have dominion over the creation, including the animals, and we must approach the world like men, not like subordinate creatures.  Or so goes the objection.

Obviously, we’re sinners, and we can always find a way to mess something up.  I’d like to say right up front that an animistic approach to an animal style would be a serious problem.  Adopting a totem animal, seeking a spirit guide, all those things, should be forsaken by Christians.  The question here is not whether an animal style could be wrong—obviously, yes—but whether it must be wrong.  It is possible to practice an animal style in a way that is compatible with Christian belief?

I believe it is, and I will follow two lines of argument.  The first is that the Bible itself teaches us to learn from and imitate animals, in order to be better men.  The second has to do with the biblical meaning of animals—but we’ll get there in due time.

In Solomon’s instructions to his son, he writes, “Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways and be wise.”  In the following instruction, Solomon enumerates the ways in which his son ought to be like the ant.  According to the prophet Hosea, when Yahweh describes himself going to war against Israel, he compares Himself to a lion, a leopard, and a bear.  Jesus is described as the Lamb of God and the Lion of the tribe of Judah.  If it is always bad for a human to behave like an animal, why does God say that He does?

That, really, is a sufficient answer.  If God tells us to learn lessons from animals, and compares Himself to animals when He is fighting, then why should we be afraid to learn lessons from animals about fighting?

Thus far sound, obvious theological reflection—a trifle pedestrian, perhaps, but safe enough ground.  But if we’re willing to think a little more poetically, the Scriptures give us a great deal more to think about.  This will, of course, be more indirect.  We’ll have to consider angels, creation, the meaning of animals and the role of men in the world.  But if we can follow the path the Bible lays, we may find ourselves a good deal richer for the effort.  We’ll begin with the angels.

Descriptions of angelic beings are relatively sparse in the Bible, but there are some common themes.  Consider the following:

Each one had four faces, and each one had four wings.  Their legs were straight, and the soles of their feet were like the soles of calves’ feet. They sparkled like the color of burnished bronze.  The hands of a man were under their wings on their four sides; and each of the four had faces and wings.  Their wings touched one another. The creatures did not turn when they went, but each one went straight forward.   As for the likeness of their faces, each had the face of a man; each of the four had the face of a lion on the right side, each of the four had the face of an ox on the left side, and each of the four had the face of an eagle.  (Ezekiel 1:6-10)

Before the throne there was a sea of glass, like crystal. And in the midst of the throne, and around the throne, were four living creatures full of eyes in front and in back.  The first living creature was like a lion, the second living creature like a calf, the third living creature had a face like a man, and the fourth living creature was like a flying eagle.  The four living creatures, each having six wings, were full of eyes around and within. And they do not rest day or night, saying: “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, Who was and is and is to come!” (Revelation 4:6-8)

Descriptions of angels in the Bible draw on a variety of animal features.  Some angels appear as men, but many others appear as animals, or an odd mixture of animal parts.  Hold onto that thought for a moment, and let’s consider the order of creation.

The angels already existed when God made the earth.  We know this because when God is taking Job to task in Job 38, He says that the angels rejoiced at the earth’s creation:

Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?
Tell Me, if you have understanding.
Who determined its measurements?
Surely you know!
Or who stretched the line upon it?
To what were its foundations fastened?
Or who laid its cornerstone,
When the morning stars sang together,
And all the sons of God shouted for joy?

Later in the creation week, when God filled the sea and skies with fish and birds, and the land with animals, the angels were already in existence.  Which means that it isn’t so much that angels look like animals, as that animals look like angels — or angel parts.  Man is the image of God; animals are the images of angels.

Man was given the animals as part of his dominion, and although our dominion has continued to extend and improve, we are a long way from maturity.  We have mismanaged the animals God committed to our care in just about every way possible.  Some kinds of animals have gone extinct because the world is cursed for our sake; other kinds we have driven into extinction through neglect, inept management, or worse.  We have frequently swung the pendulum to the other extreme and worshiped the animals in various ways, which is just as grievous a sin.

So we have a long way to go.  But the animals are there, in part, to help us grow to maturity.  When we can lovingly manage the animals God put on earth, we will have really accomplished something.  And in eternity, it will not just be the animals God commits to our jurisdiction, but the angels they are made to resemble (1Cor.6:3).

Putting all this together, how should we think of an animal styling in martial art?  God has built lessons into the creation, in part through the animals.  So there are lessons about movement and perhaps fighting that we can learn in that way.  And in learning these lessons, we are not just learning from animals but from the earthly images of angels.

But let’s take it beyond that.  In fact, let’s consider an absolute worst-case scenario.

Let us suppose that in the jungles of Indonesia lives a minor demon resembling a bat (or, as we just learned, bats resemble the demon).  In the guise of a bat spirit he has established contact with an up-and-coming shaman, insinuating himself as the man’s spirit guide.  He guides the young man to Fork-Island Village (so named because it’s on an island in the middle of the fork in a river).  As the young shaman enters the village, the village shaman, a wizened old man, staggers out of his hut, shouts out “The bat!  The bat!” and dies.

Seizing the opportunity which his patron demon has created for him, the young shaman ensconces himself as the shaman of the village, and through his influence, the village begins to worship and sacrifice to the bat-demon.  The village champion, in collaboration with the shaman and through a series of trances where he meets the demon, begins to formulate a martial practice around bat-like motions.  The demon has been watching humanity for the whole of its history, and has learned far more than he could ever teach a human in one lifetime.  As long as the champion continues to worship him, the demon teaches him things about combat and human anatomy that he could never have otherwise learned.  The champion grows more skilled and vicious than ever, and the young men of the village beg him to teach them.  Soon they, too, are journeying into the jungle with the shaman and the champion to enter into a trance and meet the bat.

Five generations later, Fork-Island Village is large, well-defended, and prosperous.  The Bat-Style of Fork-Island Village is spoken of in hushed whispers, and its champions feared for miles around.  It is said that an adept can move in utter silence through the night, kill an adversary from across the room merely by pointing at him with his sacred blade, and disappear as though he had never been.  It is said that a true master of the Bat-Style can fly, and fall upon his enemies without warning from the night sky.  How much is truth and how much is fanciful rumor, or stories spread by the villagers themselves as psychological warfare?  No way to know.  And as it is presently taught, with worship of the bat-demon as the point of entry and a continuing, integral focus of the martial art, no Christian should study it.

But let us further suppose that some members of that village move into the cities, and thence to the West.  The father of one family converts to Christianity.  Serving only Jesus, he no longer enters trances to meet the bat.  He no longer offers sacrifices to it.  He breaks his sacred blade, dedicated to the bat, and throws it away.  But he keeps the physical practice, the movements, the knowledge of the human body’s vulnerabilities, the skills of redirection, physical deception and decoy, striking blows that penetrate deeply into the body; he’s still as adept a fighter as ever he was.

He moves in next door to you.  You go out and help them carry in boxes.  A few days later, he asks to borrow your lawnmower.  You let him.  He returns it scrubbed clean as the day you bought it, with a full tank of gas.  You invite him to church, and discover that he’s a believer.  He joins your church, your kids play and study together, and your families become friends.  One day you see him doing some funky kung-fu-looking thing in the backyard.  You ask him what he’s doing, and he tells you the story and asks you if you want to learn.

Could you, in good conscience?

Why not?  Whatever he has learned about how the human body works, how to move it and how to damage it—if it’s true, then it’s God, not the demon, who made the body that way.  He has learned truths about creation that God put into the creation to be discovered.  Those who uncovered this knowledge should have served Christ with it.  If he is now doing that, then he is doing what his ancestors—and the demon—ought to have done all along.  You have a chance to join him in that, and to be a living rebuke to the bat-demon and his worshipers, a demonstration that their secrets reveal the glory of God, as all creation does.  Why not do it?


Psalm 104: A Meditation

31 January 2010

The psalm we considered this morning covers a lot of territory, from the forces of nature to human culture, from the food the animals eat to the thoughts that men think.  In all of these things, the psalmist points to some common themes:

  • First, there are no ‘forces of nature’ in the way we commonly mean it, any more than there are ‘creations of man’ in the way we commonly mean that.  All these things come from the hand of God.
  • Second, there is only one proper response to this: to praise the Lord, and to make your thoughts sweet to Him.

We find it difficult to do this, because we focus on the things we do not like, and so zoom in on those tiny things that we refuse to see anything else.  You must praise God even for those things, and my charge to you this week is to follow the strategy of the psalmist.  Back off, look at the whole world, and praise God for all of it.  Then, in that context, re-examine your discontents, and praise God for those things too.


The Shadow of Rome: Many Evangelicals Hold Old Catholic Beliefs

30 December 2009

Nicea.

Chalcedon.

Ain’t it awful?


More Philistine Biblicism, Please!

25 October 2009

So I wandered off the Approved Reading List for my theological community and stumbled onto Wedgewords, the internet lair of one Steven Wedgeworth. It’s quite the good read in a few different areas, but this little bit just deserved special mention. It’s from a post titled “A Post-Protestant Model“:

…it seems tragic that I would require a shared understanding of limited atonement before I’d recognize a brother as a true brother. So too with the respective relationship between a substance and its accidents during the Eucharist. These just don’t really seem to be the fruits of the Spirit or the way the world will know us, if you’ll forgive my philistine biblicism here.

To plagiarize a certain Dickensian waif: “Please, sir, can I have some more?”

He goes on to offer five basic points of discussion toward a way of approaching church ministry that advances genuinely catholic Christianity.  All five points are worth discussing; I encourage you to read the rest of the post here.

Within Rev. Wedgeworth’s own community, the tireless advocates of so-called Reformed Catholicity ought to sit up and take notice of this thought as well.  Speaking just for myself, I’m tired of trying to interact with wonderful, brilliant saints, only to have the conversation go like this:

Me: I listened to your lecture on xyz, and found it fascinating.  I’d love to hear more about how those thoughts apply in area abc.

Advocate of Reformed Catholicity: Hmmmm…well, are you Reformed?

Me: Well, my Wesleyan friends would probably say so, but really, no, I’m not.

ARC: [pause] Oh.  [pause]  Well…perhaps you could consult the Alliance of Brainless Evangelicals.  They might have something more to your liking.

Me: [sigh]

Come on, people.  The problem with Reformed Catholicity is the problem with Roman Catholicity — the ‘r’ word restricting the catholicity.  “The Universal Church–you know, the one in Rome” is an oxymoron.  But “The Universal Church–you know, the one that subscribes to Reformed theology” just shifts the designation from geography to ideology, which is to say it trades in the relics and the mitered hat for a copy of the Institutes and a Greenville M.Div.

The body of Christ is not defined by those things.  To put it bluntly, the Body is bigger than you, and (unlike a goodly chunk of the Roman church) you know it.

And for you non-denominational Free Grace types who are feeling warm and fuzzy at all of this smacking around of denominations — same to you, for the same reasons.


What Sort of Kinship?

19 October 2009

In the discussion following an earlier post, a friend asked me how close a kinship I see myself having with the present-day Roman church.

Answering that question prompted me to reflect a little on how my perspective has shifted over the last few years. Five years ago, I would have had a very easy time answering that question: I would have just laid out my beliefs next to the Roman Catechism, and compared. “We agree here, and here, not there, here’s okay…whoa! Not on that one…,” and so on.

Kinship, in other words, was a matter of common belief.  We were as closely related as our doctrinal statements.

This has the handy effect of making kinship an entirely at-will relationship.  Change your doctrinal statement, and we’re not relatives anymore — or maybe we just go from being brothers to being distant cousins.

And it’s just as foolish as that analogy.  You can’t write something on a piece of paper that will make your brother no longer your brother, and instead a third cousin or something.  You may, of course, change the nature of your legal relationship under certain circumstances.  However, no matter what it says on the legal paperwork, he is your brother; this is a fact of history and biology and it can’t be changed by fiat, or by anything else, for that matter.

Likewise, those who share a saving relationship with Jesus Christ are fellow children of the Father, and we are all brothers, no matter what our differences might be.

I am not suggesting that common belief is unimportant — far from it!  But common belief is not the whole picture.  There are other forces at work here.  Each of us is born into a certain family, and we are also part of a certain stream of tradition within our common faith.  These things place us in relationship with all sorts of people that we might not have chosen, but we didn’t do the choosing — God did.  I am Protestant by birth.  More narrowly, I am a part of the independent, nondenominational Bible church tradition.  More narrowly yet, I was born into the Florida Bible College tradition — both parents are alumni, and FBC was a major formative influence for them.  Through my parents I have a certain relationship with Ray Stanford, whom I never met, and Mark Cambron, whom I only met once.  They were instrumental in founding FBC, and taught my parents there.  Even though I did later choose to study under his tutelage, I have the same sort of relationship with Dick Seymour, because much of what my parents taught me, they learned from him.

In an important way, I could sever all these connections by converting to a different strand of the Christian tradition: Lutheranism, or the Roman or Eastern churches, for example.  Furthermore, most of the people in my past would agree that by converting, I had severed my connections with the Protestant, Bible-church, FBC tradition.  They’d be half right.  But they’d also be half wrong.

Again, there is that pesky saving relationship with Jesus to consider, and it doesn’t just go away when my doctrinal statement changes.  If I suddenly run off and join the Oriental Orthodox churches (not gonna happen, but just to talk about it), I do not sever my connection to Christ.  I am still a member of the Body.  And–not to put too fine a point on it–when the Oriental Orthodox churches gather on the morning of the Lord’s Day to pray and worship, they worship and pray to Yahweh, the Maker of heaven and earth, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob–which is to say, the true God.  Weird as we may find their worship, filled with bells and smells and strange pictures, they are nonetheless in communion with the same God we serve.*  If I were to join them, I’d be joining a group of people who love, serve and pray to the same God I do, and I’d be continuing to love, serve and pray to Him, not to some other god.

Second, and just at a practical level: How would I convert?  By changing my present beliefs and practice, correct?  But that won’t change the past, and so there’s also an important way in which my connection to my heritage can never be severed.  It is a fact of history, and I can’t change it.

The modernist response to this is to shrug and say, “So what?  I didn’t pick to be born into this tradition; I don’t owe it anything.”  But we know that this kind of thinking is not in tune with the way God made the world.  I didn’t pick my parents, but I must honor them nonetheless.  I didn’t pick the country where I was born, but Jesus still tells me to render to Caesar what is Caesar’s.  So here’s the question: what sort of honor is due to our ecclesiastical heritage?  And how do we give due honor while still holding that heritage up to biblical critique, which we most certainly must do?

I’m not sure I have a well-rounded, wise answer to that question yet, but I’m pretty sure that pretending my heritage doesn’t exist isn’t it–and that heritage goes all the way back through the Reformers, through the medieval Roman church, through the (relatively) undivided church of the seven-ish ecumenical councils, through the early persecuted church to the apostles.  All of it.

*Point of clarification: this is not to say that everything about this worship is God-honoring.  In fact, there are elements of the worship in the Eastern churches in which I could not participate in good conscience.  That’s a separate debate.  The point I’m making here is that the worship is, in fact, addressed to Yahweh, the Triune God of Scripture, which is to say, the same God.


Science: Universals and Particulars, again

11 October 2009

This universals and particulars thing just isn’t going away.

In this week’s tour (or more correctly, half-tour), Tackett said that philosophy’s task is to deal with the universals, and science’s task is to deal with the particulars, but science is now taking a more philosophical mode and trying to evangelize for materialistic Darwinian philosophy.

This is half true.  The institutions of modern science certainly do evangelize for Darwinian materialism.  But why should scientists stay away from the universals and stick to particulars?  And is that even possible?

No, it isn’t.  Psalm 19 — of which this tour has correctly made much use — works from particulars to universals.  The heavens declare the glory of God.  A scientist rightly studying the heavens will hear them declaring the glory of God, and he will, in turn, glorify God and be thankful.  God has so made the world that the particulars of it educate an observer in certain key universals — notably Yahweh’s eternal power and God-ness — and obligate that observer to worship Him.  When scientists don’t worship, it’s sin.

Moreover, the whole edifice of modern science rests on a Christian worldview to start with, as Pearcey and Thaxton show clearly in The Soul of Science.    The development and long-term support for science in Western culture depends on a series of Christian beliefs:  the material world is really there (Hindus and Buddhists, among others, take it as an article of faith that it isn’t); the material world is separate from God, and valuable, and behaves precisely in an extrinsic order that is comprehensible to man, and so on.  Most of the people in the world do not affirm these things even today, and very few cultures in the history of the world have ever espoused them. So universals and particulars can’t be separated in science because to even do science is to rest on a certain set of universals.

Since these beliefs are Christian, the implication is that science today is subsisting on borrowed capital and institutional momentum, and has been committing a slow and painful suicide for a century.  Exactly.

Everything is an echo of the Trinity.  In the Trinity, universals (one divine Nature) and particulars (three Persons) are equally ultimate.  Universals and particulars must ultimately must be understood together, and in terms of one another, and so it is in science.  Trying to separate universals from particulars is just absurd; we can certainly comprehend partially, but real separation can’t happen in the world God made.  Trying to keep true particulars, but build on false universals, is just as absurd.