Increasingly, I find myself in conversations in which consternation is expressed about the implications of our upcoming presidential election. I think it is good to remind ourselves that there is One who remains in office for all of time. This One, who is the King of kings and Lord of lords, presides with unimpeachable sovereignty, despite worldly affairs and public opinion. Further, all elected officials carry out their terms underneath his authority.

Venerable Bede, the eighth-century, English, theologian-monk, offers a helpful statement along this line. His famous work, The Ecclesiastical History of the English People (A.D. 731) was more than a recitation of events; it instructed kings in ways pleasing to God. Here Bede reminds the monarch that, under God, history is a moral drama to which one profitably attends. His words apply to today’s political leaders as it did in the eighth century:

“I gladly acknowledge the unfeigned enthusiasm with which, not content merely to lend an attentive ear to hear the words of Holy Scripture, you devote yourself to learn the sayings and doings of the men of old, and more especially the famous men of our own race. Should history tell of good men and their good estate, the thoughtful listener is spurred on to imitate the good; should it record the evil ends of wicked men, no less effectually the devout and earnest listener or reader is kindled to eschew what is harmful and perverse, and himself with greater care pursue those things which he has learned to be good and pleasing in the sight of God.”1

Footnotes :

1 St. Bede, The Ecclesiastical History of the English People (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1969), 3.

Let’s face it, John Calvin’s Institutes is intimidating to many people, certainly to the uninitiated lay person. I suspect that there are also many of us in ministry who find it easier to quote Calvin than it is to actually read him. For instance, here is a little test: How many books are there in the Institutes? Can you summarize the gist of each one? What’s the big deal that Calvin puts justification after sanctification in book three?  It’s remarkable how easy it is for us to talk about a book for successive years without truly understanding what that book is about.

According to Tony Lane, Calvin’s Institutes is “one of the most important theological works ever written.” So convinced of this is he, and of its relevance for today’s ministry needs, that Tony has teamed up with Hilary Osborne to create an abridged edition. It is a condensation of the 1559 edition, which retains the heart of Calvin’s teaching and all his major themes. Working from Henry Beveridge’s translation, Hillary Osborne has put the text into “simpler and more modern English.” The result is volume that is substantive and accessible for the average reader. 

If we regard Calvin’s teaching as valuable, and if the Institutes is his most significant theological work (which it is), and if we are keen to see those whom we serve grow in their doctrinal knowledge of Scripture and Christian living, then this book should be a standard part of our discipleship arsenal.

It seems fitting to conclude with a selection from Calvin himself.

The Lord has ordained that those who will one day be crowned in heaven must have fought the good fight here on earth. There can be no triumph until we have overcome in the struggle of this life and gained the victory (3.9.3).

Does that statement not sound like Calvin? One more reason to read his Institutes for yourself.

PS For those of you who live in the Chicago area, we will have Tony Lane lecturing at Wheaton College in November, 2012 (between the 8th – 12th).  If your church or ministry has an interest in learning more about Calvin’s significance for gospel ministry, please feel free to contact me for more information.

When meeting with an older man or woman, particularly a leader in the business world, we have a golden opportunity to ask thoughtful questions. This is especially important for pastors, since our seminary training doesn’t usually provide a whole lot in the area of leadership (I’m not begrudging seminary; it’s just a reality). Over the years I have accumulated questions for leaders, which I keep in my iPad, in order to ask the most pertinent ones over a lunch or coffee. Here they are:

What are the most important decisions you make as a leader?

How do you encourage creative thinking among your staff members?

Which core values are most important to your vision?

Do you set aside specific times to cast vision to your employees and other leaders?

How do you communicate your “core values”?

What is one mistake you witness leaders making more frequently than others?

What is the one behavior or trait that you have seen derail more leaders?

Where do the great ideas come from your company?

What is one characteristic that you believe every leader should possess?

What is the biggest challenge facing leaders today?

What are you doing to ensure you continue to grow and develop as a leader?

Can you believe this? In fifth grade Sunday School I had to learn them all: Genesis…

Exodus…Leviticus…Numbers…Deuteronomy…through those pesky minor prophets, Micah…Nahum…Habakkuk…and on through the New Testament books…all the way to Revelation. Not only did we have to learn the books of the Bible, we were also tested on a list of the kings of Israel and Judah and, of course, the prophets. Our hero at the time was our classmate, Peggy Corneil, who could recite all three lists backwards and forwards. Amazing mind, that Peggy!

By present standards, this kind of curriculum would be considered wholly inadequate. The measuring line by which we measure such things as Sunday School curriculum and small group materials is the degree to which it is considered "practical.” This is the gold standard question: "To what extent is there a life application attached to whatever we teach?”

Pastors and others in ministry know this all too well. The pervasive value behind whatever goes on in the church is its perceived practicality. Every time a sermon is preached, a bible study is taught or a small group is administered, the pastor stands against the proverbial door and the congregation measures his or her growth against the standards of this one core value.

And what goes on in seminaries is no exception. The current market, in fact, places traditional theological education up against para-church organizations whose central mission is cultural relevancy and a commitment to practical daily living. A whole cottage industry of manuals, CD/DVDs and three ring notebooks are geared toward ways in which biblical principles are linked to a myriad of life contexts, be it family life, leadership situations, or relational complexities.

Seminary curriculum is increasingly expected to meet this litmus test of practicality. Did I hear an alum/pastor right a couple of years ago when she stated that her seminary failed her because we did not offer an entire course on developing church capital campaigns? Apparently, she was in the middle of funding a new building, and she felt inadequate with the pressures that were being placed on her by her church. Gordon-Conwell just did not measure up to her expectations.

There is much to be said about relating biblical and theological truths to daily living. A dynamic life of faith is nothing, if not connected to the warp and wolf of our lives. But perhaps we need to rethink what we mean by "practical.” All of those lists of the books of the Bible, kings, and prophets certainly didn’t connect easily, in my fifth grade mind, to a life being played out at Garfield grade school. At the end of the day, I could not readily make out a life application related to my little world.

Those lists were not practical in that immediate application sort of way. But I have been feasting off of the knowledge of that fifth grade class for over forty-five years, all the way through my seminary education and into ministry in the church and the seminary. To be honest, I am sure I would miss a few of those kings and prophets right now, but the residue of those lists still cling to me. The larger backdrop of my life has been measured unconsciously against my fifth grade education.

David Horn, ThD
Director of the Harold John Ockenga Institute
Director of Semlink

Now that we have entered February, our thoughts naturally turn toward obtaining the proper gift for the one we love. It often begins with the question “what can I purchase”. . . perfume, Mikimoto pearls, galoshes? The challenge revolves around either getting the right thing or having a memorable experience, such as a candlelight dinner at Giuseppe’s, tickets to the show, or a pedicure (for her, unless you are from Long Island or the Jersey Shore, which could go either way).  Seldom, however, do we think about what we will be—not as an alternative, but, the point is, if we don’t work on how we embody Christ to our spouse, then all the gifts in the world will miss the mark.

John Chrysostom (c. 349 – 407) had something to say about this. In an exposition of Genesis 16:1ff, he counsels husbands to show gentleness and unselfish love towards their wives and thus bring peace to the household. Such a marriage, based on Christian devotion, glorifies God and as a result will be “stronger than steel,” able to withstand the storms of life.

Let us learn to be reasonable and gentle toward all, especially our wives, and to be very diligent so that if they rebuke us—whether rightly or wrongly—we may not be too exacting but may make our sole concern the removal of the cause of sadness and establish deep peace in the home. Then the wife may turn her attention toward her husband, and the husband may take refuge in his wife and find consolation at home, as in a harbor sheltered from external difficulties and troubles. The wife was given as a helper in order that the husband, strengthened by her encouragement, might be able to withstand whatever comes his way…. Those who are thus bound together will have no grief in this life nor will their pleasure suffer any harm. Wherever harmony, peace, and the bond of love exist between a wife and husband, all good things will flow together, and they will become impregnable to every assault, being fortified by the great and unassailable wall of divine harmony. This will make them stronger than steel, harder than iron, and supply them with more benefits than all wealth and possessions; this will lead them to the highest distinction and recommend them to God’s abundant favor.

I urge you therefore that we not prize anything more than this, but that we labor and do everything we can to bring about calm and peace in marriage. Then the children who are born will follow the virtue of their parents, the servants will imitate them, and in every respect the affairs of the household will contribute toward virtue, and there will be much happiness in our affairs. When we honor first the things of God, then all other things will come to us smoothly and we will experience no distress, for the goodness of God supplies us with all things in abundance.1

Footnotes:

1 John Chrysostom, Homilies on Genesis 38.7 [22], on Gen. 16:1ff, in Everett Ferguson, Inheriting Wisdom: Readings for Today from Ancient Christian Writers (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2004), 8.

Opposition, if it is intense and sustained enough, can sap one’s resolve. Faced with this threat, no movement in history has managed to thrive through 2000 years of protracted persecution, save one—the Church of the Lord Jesus Christ. Since their inception, the people of God have suffered physical torture, intellectual ridicule, and social ostracism, yet they have never ceased to strive and grow. It leads to the question: What has infused the Church with such an inextinguishable tenacity? One incomparable promise from their Master, that’s what!

After warning His disciples against spending their lives solely in a chase after worldly goods, Jesus tells them what they ought to prioritize. “Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you,” (v. 31). Pursue God’s rule in the world, honor His name, obey His Word, and proclaim His gospel. It would not be an easy task. The world would rage against them, hate them, and even seek to kill them, but Christ tells His disciples, “Fear not.” The Father is committed, willing, and even pleased to finally give them the kingdom. The Lord’s address, “little flock,” reflects the tenderness with which God cared for His people throughout biblical history. The Old Testament speaks often of God the Shepherd caring for His sheep, both with gentleness and with a mighty, ruling arm to dispense reward and recompense (see Isa. 40:10-11; also Ps. 23:1; 28:9; 74:1; 77:20; Jer. 13:17; Zech. 11:11; 13:7). Jesus’ words must have been enormously comforting to the disciples, for they would have known their Shepherd could never fail to deliver what He had promised.

The earliest followers of Christ were in a precarious position. A tiny minority in a hostile pagan culture, they were reviled because of their allegiance to Jesus Christ. Arrested and jailed, hauled before godless kings and governors, hated, ridiculed, and even killed, the Church would not rest until her Lord returned. Two thousand years later, the Lord has not returned, and believers are still in a precarious position. The Church in the West is pilloried in the media, ostracized in the academy, and generally dismissed by the cultural elite. In other parts of the world, Christians are still imprisoned, beaten, tortured, and even killed for their faith. Even so, there is one truth which infuses the battered Church with hope: if the world’s hostility has not changed, then neither has the Father’s promise. Through mockery and derision, insult, slander, and even death, the Father is still pleased to give His people the kingdom.

Many Christians listen every night to the evening news and see a near hopeless situation. The culture seems bent on careening into every evil it can devise. Abortion is entrenched, greed, lust, and avarice run unrestrained, and neither reason nor law seem capable of stemming the tide. In such a dark day, we must raise our voices to hearten one another with the promise of final victory. If there is any sure promise in Scripture, it is that the Lord will one day return to establish His glorious reign, and His people will sit and rule at His side. Christ’s Church may be a “little flock,” but we have the King of Kings and Lord or Lords as our Shepherd!

As a “mystery,” the Catholic Mass is by definition beyond human comprehension; yet, when Protestants explain what happens in the Mass, we often get it wrong, propagating misnomers that directly contradict the explicit teaching of the Catholic Church. Here are the big three. If effectiveness in gospel renewal is related to upholding truth and avoiding straw men, these lessons should be noted.

It has been said that it is a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, and it’s a theologians prerogative to make distinctions. It is how seminaries train us; it is the currency with which we trade. Among theologians, few excel in formulating and articulating these subtleties as much as our Catholic friends, and the mystery of the Mass is a place where this tendency is especially observed. Speaking to the issue intelligently and persuasively requires us to understand the following categories and terms.

Misnomer One: Catholics teach that Christ is “physically present” in the Mass.

When describing Jesus Christ as the Eucharist, Catholics will say that the Lord is “really,” “truly,” “wholly,” “continuously,” or “substantially” present, but not "physically.” To state the Jesus is “physically” present is to suggest that he is present “locally” (as he is now in heaven at the right hand of the Father). The Eucharistic presence of Christ, although understood as no less real, is sacramentally present in the transubstantiated host. From the Catechism of the Catholic Church:

1413 By the consecration the transubstantiation of the bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Christ is brought about. Under the consecrated species of bread and wine Christ himself, living and glorious, is present in a true, real, and substantial manner: his Body and his Blood, with his soul and his divinity (cf. Council of Trent: DS 1640; 1651).

Misnomer Two: Christ is Re-sacrificed at the Mass.

This is perhaps the most common misconception. If I had a dime for every pastor friend whom I’ve heard say that the Mass is a repetition of the cross, I just might have enough money for a cappuccino at Starbucks. It is permissible to say that the Mass is a repetition of the Last Supper, but not of Jesus’ cross. Catholic doctrine teaches that the Mass “renews” or “re-presents” the cross; but it doesn’t “repeat” it. Catholics assert that in a mystical and sacramental sense, the Mass is the cross, the once and for all offering of God’s Son continued through time. For those of you who enjoy grammar, it’s like an ingressive aorist: an action that has been completed and is also ongoing. It is, if you will, like a golf put. Please pardon the comparison of the supremely glorious cross with the banality of golf, but his is how my simple mind gets around it. When I swing my putter at the ball, the initial contact is the “put.” At the same time, the action of the ball rolling toward the pin (and in my case, past the pin) is also the “put.” The put has happened and it’s happening. So the sacrifice of Jesus is completed (hence informed Catholics know how to explain Jesus’ words “it is finished”) and it is also ongoing. Personally, this is one of two or three tenets of Catholicism that I find most troubling; but it is what it is, and we evangelicals only benefit from getting it right. Again, from the Catechism:

1407 The Eucharist is the heart and the summit of the Church’s life, for in it Christ associates his Church and all her members with his sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving offered once for all on the cross to his Father; by this sacrifice he pours out the graces of salvation on his Body which is the Church.

Misnomer Three: Christ Doesn’t Die at the Mass.

This misunderstanding is a close second to the preceding. If one regards the Mass as a re-sacrifice, then, logically, he will view that sacrifice as constituting another death. However, according to the Catholic Church, Christ doesn’t “die” in the Mass, he is “immolated.” For some Protestants that will be a new term. “Immolation” comes from the Latin immolare, “to sacrifice.” Simply put, in the Mass, when the priest elevates the wafer and recites the words of consecration, Jesus is presented in a state of victimhood. In other words, he is presented in his death.

1366 The Eucharist is thus a sacrifice because it re-presents (makes present) the sacrifice of the cross, because it is its memorial and because it applies its fruit:

[Christ], our Lord and God, was once and for all to offer himself to God the Father by his death on the altar of the cross, to accomplish there an everlasting redemption. But because his priesthood was not to end with his death, at the Last Supper "on the night when he was betrayed," [he wanted] to leave to his beloved spouse the Church a visible sacrifice (as the nature of man demands) by which the bloody sacrifice which he was to accomplish once for all on the cross would be re-presented, its memory perpetuated until the end of the world, and its salutary power be applied to the forgiveness of the sins we daily commit.

The implications of the above are numerous. For one, in light of numbers two and three, it explains why Catholics display the crucifix—the dead Jesus upon the cross. It also highlights how different is the Catholic and Protestant understanding of propitiation (the way to appease God’s wrath). One might argue that this issue of the Eucharistic sacrifice of Christ is a more substantial difference between Catholics and Protestants than our disagreement over the relationship between faith and works.

I want to underscore the need for us Protestants to use the proper terms. You know that feeling you get when you hear an adversary of Protestantism reduce the doctrine of faith alone to mere cheap grace (i.e., walk an aisle, say a prayer, be an anti-nomian slug…)? It’s inaccurate, unfair, and your respect for such a person’s argument is naturally diminished. Well, this is essentially what happens when we misrepresent the Mass. Fruitful gospel conversations require us to get the facts straight.

Please pray for my preparation to preach this Sunday morning at Community Fellowship in West Chicago. I intend to open Ezekiel 37:1-10 in a sermon titled How Dead Bones Live. Service times are 9:00am and 11:00am.

At 6:00pm I will lead a session titled Understanding and Relating to Catholics. All are invited!

Gratefully, Chris

Here is some back-story and a few observations that came to my mind after watching the video.

In an interview with The Catholic Beat, Rob Kaczmark of Spirit Juice (pronounced quickly, it sounds like “spiritus“) described his feeling when he and Sister Helen Burns first watched Bethke’s video. He writes: “We watched it together, and we were so upset. There are a lot of anti-Catholic videos out there, but I felt more attacked in this one than I have in ages. … Right away we knew [that the response] had to come from a priest and we only knew of two rapping priests: Fr. Pontifex and Fr. Stan [Fortuna, a Franciscan friar in New York].” It turned out that Fr. Claude was already hard at work on a Catholic version. Matching Bethke claim for claim, Claude wrote his reply late into Friday evening and again on Saturday morning while preparing for mass services at his parish, Holy Spirit. On Sunday, he found a church in which to record—Queen of All Saints Basilica in Chicago. Tuesday morning, before the sun rose, Fr. Claude left the rectory at 5 am for the five-hour drive northward from Evansville Indiana, followed by a five-hour taping. “The main reason we made it is not for publicity,” said Claude; “we just wanted it to be a video that defended our mother, the Church. We want people to know that institutional religion is not something to be feared, not something oppressive — it’s an exciting, living organism. The Church is the extension of Jesus Christ. We are the light of Jesus Christ in the world.”

First, how cool is it that there are rapping priests. If this is not the triumph of Vatican II, I don’t know what is. Second, I appreciate Fr. Claude’s demeanor. Note his opening statement, presumably aimed at Bethke, “You clearly have a heart for Jesus.” This is not the adversarial posture that you find among many Catholic apologists, or, worse still, some Protestant converts to Rome who then write books about their conversion (for the record, I would not put Frank Beckwith’s work in this category). I hear the voice of a pastor, one who is attempting to extend grace. But Fr. Claude is also truthful—“This had to be addressed,” he writes “the use of illogical terms and definitions.” This was essentially Kevin DeYoung’s contention. But why does Fr. Claude go on to state that Bethke’s poem is “fueling atheistic opinions.” This was not part of DeYoung’s critique, nor any other evangelical review that I read. This brings me to my second observation. Spirit Juice’s video teaches us something valuable about the self-understanding of the Catholic Church.

When I teach on Catholicism, I like to occasionally show a video from Fr. Robert Barron, particularly the intro to his recent DVD series, Catholicism, asking the class to identify the symbols of Catholic authority with reference to how they relate to the person and work of Jesus. In doing so I introduce the Catholic concept of “continuous incarnation,” the meaning of which is found in the following statements, starting with Pope Benedict XVI.

The notion of the body of Christ was developed in the Catholic Church to the effect that the Church designated as “Christ living on earth” came to mean that the Church was described as the Incarnation of the Son continuing until the end of time.[1]

Another way to describe this notion is in terms of “prolongation,” as Hans Urs von Balthasar writes:

The Church is the prolongation of Christ’s mediatorial nature and work and possesses a knowledge that comes by faith; she lives objectively (in her institution and her sacraments) and subjectively (in her saints and, fundamentally, in all her members) in the interchange between heaven and earth. Her life comes from heaven and extends to earth, and extends from earth to heaven.[2]

Finally, there is this statement from Father Yves Congar:

Since the medieval era…we have witnessed a particular fondness for St. Augustine’s formula, “the whole Christ,” or for the formula of St. Joan of Arc, “I think that between our Lord and the Church – it is all one,” . . . or for the theme of “continuing incarnation.”[3]

The continuous incarnation of Christ in his Church is enormously helpful for understanding so many things that happen in Catholic theology, especially the function of revelation and authority. The critical difference between Catholics and Evangelicals on this point concerns the relationship of Jesus’ incarnation to his Church. Accordingly, from a Catholic point of view, the incarnated presence of Jesus (the “head”) is manifested in his Church (the “members”) to make up the Body of Christ. [4] As the Catechism puts it, Christ and his Church thus together make up the “whole Christ” (Christus totus).[5] In this way, incarnation is not simply a historical event from two millennia ago; it is also an ongoing process that applies to his Body today.[6]

The Catholic position says, in effect, if you want to see the presence of Jesus in the world, look to the institution of the Roman Catholic Church because it is the mystical embodiment of Jesus on earth.[7] It is precisely for this reason that Fr. Claude accuses Bethke of fueling atheistic opinions, because, from a Catholic perspective, if you reject the Church (or religion, in the positive sense of that term) you ipso facto reject Christ. It is also why Claude states, as I quoted earlier, “The Church is the extension of Jesus Christ. We are the light of Jesus Christ in the world.”

So what is the take away from all this? Potentially, much, but here is one thought. A significant part of our Reformed heritage involves working hard to accurately understand the theological viewpoints of our interlocutors, Catholic or otherwise. Read Calvin’s response to Jacopo Sadeleto or Albert Pighius, Vermigli’s argument against Richard Smith, or Bucer’s conversations with Johannes Gropper and you’ll find evangelical Protestants who disagreed on issues with their Catholic conversation partners rather deeply, but only after they applied due diligence to understanding them. Should we do any less?

[1] Pope Benedict XVI, Joseph Ratzinger in Communio, vol. 1, The Unity of the Church (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 73-74. Since Vatican II, the language of “Continuous Incarnation” has been eclipsed by the Council’s emphasis on “The Pilgrim People of God.” Nevertheless, the incarnation concept is so fundamental that it is still helpful for understanding how Catholic authority operates.

[2] Hans Urs von Balthasar, Theo-Drama: Theological Dramatic Theory, vol. 4 (San Francisco: Ignatius, 1988), 131.

[3] Yves Congar, O.P., Jesus Christ, trans. by Luke O’Neill (New York: Herder and Herder, 1965), 156-157.

[4] Émilien Lamirande, The Communion of Saints, trans. by A. Manson (New York: Hawthorn, 1963), 73.

[5] Catechism of the Catholic Church, Par. 795.

[6] Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Principles of Catholic Theology: Building Stones for Fundamental Theology, trans. by Sr. Mary Frances McCarthy, S.N.D. (San Francisco: Ignatius, 1987), 44-47, 245. Some works that draw on this theme are Henri de Lubac, S.J., Catholicism: A Study of Dogma in Relation to the Corporate Destiny of Mankind, trans. by Lancelot C. Sheppard (London: Burns, Oates & Washbourne, 1950); David Tracy, The Analogical Imagination: Christian Theology and the Culture of Pluralism (New York: Basic, 1977); and Sebastian Tromp, S.J. Corpus Christi Quaod Est Ecclesia, trans. by Ann Condit (New York: Vantage, 1960).

[7] The language of “institution” must not undermine our appreciation for the fact that at its core the Church is a living being, as Pope Benedict XVI reminds. Pope Benedict XVI, Joseph Ratzinger in Communio, vol. 1, The Unity of the Church (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 63.