Reformation21 http://www.reformation21.org/ en Copyright 2012 Mon, 28 May 2012 13:57:47 -0500 http://www.sixapart.com/movabletype/ http://www.rssboard.org/rss-specification Reformation21http://feedburner.google.com You Cannot Judge This Book by its Cover: A Review The Roots of the Reformation: Tradition, Emergence, and Rupture (IVP: 2012) 528 pp.

My philosophy of teaching is very simple: while I confess that I do like it when I am able to persuade students to agree with me, my primary purpose is to teach them to think as historians. This is reflected in my view of textbooks: I do not care particularly as to whether or not I agree with a textbook's overall thesis (if indeed there is one); I simply want a book which lays out the major issues clearly and provides precise and accurate information when it comes to names, dates, places and events.  

It was with these things in mind that I came to review G. R. Evans new book, The Roots of the Reformation (IVP US, 2012).  Evans is a fine scholar with a long and impressive scholarly track record; and this book is well produced, sporting jacket commendations from a stellar cast of Reformation scholars.

The basic thrust of the book is a sound one. Reflecting the direction of the last fifty years of Reformation scholarship, it highlights the fact that the Reformation's relationship to the medieval church is complex. It is not so much one of sudden, radical break, but rather of the cumulative force of eclectic continuities and ruptures which culminates in the breakdown of institutional church unity in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries which we now call the Reformation. So far, so good.

Dr. Evans is a trained medievalist and, indeed, Professor of Medieval Theology and Intellectual History at the University of Cambridge. Thus, the first 250 pages (half of the book) are taken up with medieval themes. I am not academically qualified to comment in depth on this material but it reads well and seems plausible. I am concerned, however, that this positive impression needs to be verified by a competent medievalist as, when I came to the section on which I am competent to comment (the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries), the picture changed dramatically.

The Reformation section is unfortunately replete with errors of historical fact, some of which are very serious, even if a few are possibly the result of typos. The sheer number of these errors renders the book a liability in the classroom and undermines its stated purpose as a textbook.  

Here are the errors which I found on a single reading:

On p. 178, Evans has Huldrych Zwingli discussing his common place book with Heinrich Bullinger in 1534. The only problem is that Zwingli was killed on the battlefield of Kappel in 1531, as Evans correctly notes on p. 333.

On p. 249, Evans describes Johannes Reuchlin as just a friend of the Melanchthon family. He was actually Phillip Melanchthon's uncle, as Evans correctly states on pp. 264 and 273.

On p. 291, Evans incorrectly gives Andreas Bodenstein von Karlstadt's middle name as Bodenheim.

Evans's treatment of the Diet of Worms on pp. 292-93 is wrong at numerous points.  She claims that Luther was summoned to Worms by the Edict of Worms. In fact, the Edict of Worms was the key piece of anti-Luther legislation promulgated at Worms. Before Worms, Aleander (the papal nuncio) and others had engaged in intense legal and procedural debate about how, or even if, an excommunicated man could be summoned to an imperial diet; but the Edict was not the summons to the Diet but rather a decree of the same. This confusion will make classroom discussion of subsequent imperial enforcement of the Edict (crucial in understanding the subsequent shape of Reformation Europe) incomprehensible.

On the same page, Evans identifies John Eck at the Diet of Worms with John Eck the scholar with whom Luther and Karlstadt debated at Leipzig in 1519. In Evans's narrative Worms thus becomes Round Two of an ongoing Ali-Frazier kind of rivalry. In fact, these Ecks are actually two different people. The Eck of the Leipzig debate was Johann Maier von Eck a university scholar; the Eck at Worms was Johann von der Ecken, an employee of the Archbishop of Trier. This is precisely the kind of confusion against which teachers of the Reformation are always warning their students; it does us no favours to have it enshrined in a textbook.

The Landgrave of Hesse, Philip, organised the Marburg Colloquy, not the Margrave as claimed on p. 317.

On p. 318, Evans' treatment of the Book of Concord is so superficial as to give no real information or insight into the rather complicated development of post-Luther Lutheranism and, in fact, to be thoroughly misleading.  No mention is made of the brutal struggle within Lutheranism between the Philippists and the Gnesio-Lutherans, nor of the role of the two versions of the Augsburg Confession (invariata and variata) in this.  The Book is not so much about general Christian unity as it is a sign of the triumph of the Gnesio party within Lutheranism.

On p. 319, Evans claims that early English Reformer Thomas Bilney had 'extreme reforming opinions.'  In fact, while Bilney was undoubtedly a huge influence on a generation of significant English Reformers, he himself was so equivocally and mercurially Protestant in his thinking that even John Foxe shows some embarrassment about his theology in his account of Bilney's life and martyrdom in Acts and Monuments.

On p. 323, we are told Wolsey died in prison. He did not. He died while travelling to face trial.

On p. 334, we are told that Zwingli was handing out sausages at the Lenten Fast in 1522.  This is unlikely. Zwingli was certainly present at the breaking of the Lenten Fast by the printer, Christoph Froschauer (and his men) in 1522. This event did, indeed, involve the consumption of a sausage but Zwingli's role in the event seems to have been cautious: he did not eat the sausage and I do not think that there is any evidence he was handing such out. Even if he did, the significance of the event lies in the alliance it demonstrates between Froschauer and the reformist party in the early days of the Zurich Reformation, yet Evans does not mention the printer at all.

On pp. 343-45, there is major confusion concerning Calvin and Geneva.  On p. 343, for example, the narrative is muddled but the most natural reading of what Evans writes is that Farel persuaded Calvin to take up residence in Geneva in 1532. Calvin did not come to Geneva until 1536. The impression is also given that it was here that he published the first edition of the Institutes in 1536. Calvin was actually in Basel at the time of its publication.

Calvin did return to Geneva in 1541, as Evans notes on p. 344, but this was not (as she claims) at the invitation of Farel. Farel had left Geneva as an exile with Calvin in 1538.  It was the city who invited him back (as Evans correctly notes on the very same page in a strange contradiction of the earlier claim). Calvin also stayed in Geneva until 1564, when he died, not only until 1549, as Evans claims.

On these same pages there is also considerable weirdness in the discussion of the role of the Libertines. On p. 344, the impression is given that the Libertines never wanted Calvin to return; this is not the case.  Some of those Calvin later labeled as 'Libertines' were among those who were most keen to engineer his return in 1541. Given that this is supposed to be a textbook, it would also have been helpful for Evans to note that 'Libertine' was an unfair polemical term used by Calvin to make it look as if the issues between him and his opponents were moral and theological rather than personal and ethnic. Evans failure to highlight the importance of French immigration to Genevan politics and to Calvin's changing relationship to those he later labels as Libertines is a very serious lacuna here, given that this is supposed to be a textbook..

The weirdness continues on p. 345 where the impression is given that the Libertines caused trouble for Calvin in his prosecution of Servetus. The comment is enigmatic and no detail is given as to what this trouble might have been. I was, however, left with the impression that this trouble might actually have been the condemnation and burning of Servetus, as if Calvin was not supportive of these.  If so (and, again, the vagueness of the text is lethal in a textbook), this is not correct: Calvin was, of course, the key prosecutor and clearly wanted Servetus to die for his crimes (as did the Lutherans and the Catholics, for that matter); he did try to get the sentence changed to death by beheading but that was the extent of his disagreement with the verdict.

On p. 346 we are told that the last edition of Calvin's Institutes was published in 1558. It was not. The final Latin edition was published in 1559.

On the same page Evans distinguishes Calvin and Luther relative to their soteriologies.  I quote: 'For Calvin the important concept was not justification by faith but accepting Christ as Savior.  This was where, he believed, lay salvation for those God chooses.' This kind of description makes Calvin sound like some twenty-first century American evangelical. I am certain that he himself would have found this way of distinguishing his thought from that of Luther to be incomprehensible.

Now, the issue of Calvin's relationship to Lutheran theology is certainly complicated and the subject of scholarly debate but not along the vague, simplistic lines laid out here. In his early sojourn in Basel, Calvin had stood out in the circle of young humanists there as the one man who favoured Luther's books over those of Zwingli. Later, he subscribed to the Augsburg Confession (variata). His primary conflicts with Luther and Lutheranism were in the areas of the Lord's Supper and Christology, not soteriology (as indicated by his ability to subscribe the variata). Thus, Evans's characterization of him here ignores the real points at issue and offers an account of Calvin's theology which he himself would surely not have recognised. Evans's claim simply ignores the theological, confessional and biographical evidence.

On p. 359, Evans describes the Scottish Book of Discipline of 1560 as reflecting 'the peculiarly repressive and punitive flavor of Scottish Calvinism.' No evidence is provided to demonstrate why the provisions of the book were so notably harsh in comparison to other similar documents of the time. No mention is made of the fact that it was never formally ratified by Parliament, or of the function of Reformation theology and polity within the internal political struggles in Scotland at the time. (This is actually a weakness of the entire Reformation section: material factors such as politics, economics and technology play no significant part in Evans's narrative).

On p. 360, Evans dispatches the Westminster Assembly in a single paragraph and refers incorrectly to the Larger Catechism as 'the Longer Catechism.'  

On p. 362, Evans claims Edward VI wrote the preface to the first Book of Homilies.  This is not correct. It certainly had royal approval but Edward was only ten at the time of its publication.

On p. 376, Evans is confused over the relationship of Presbyterians, Puritans and Separatists to the vestiarian controversies of the Elizabethan church. This is too complicated for me to untangle here. Suffice it to say that discussions of the respective powers of church and state, and the extent of the Bible's practical normativity for ecclesiastical practice meant that the issues of polity and vestments had been intertwined from the moment they first arose in the Edwardian reformation twenty years earlier.

On p. 415, Evans makes the statement 'Whitgift did not regard the Calvinists as a threat in the way Richard Bancroft did.'  This is odd. Of course, how one reads this particular statement depends upon how one defines 'Calvinist' but, if you take it in its usual theological sense, then Whitgift was himself a thoroughgoing Calvinist and the statement is redundant.  He was, after all, the author of the vigorously anti-Pelagian, Calvinist Lambeth Articles which were later embodied in the Irish Articles.  What Evans actually appears to mean by 'Calvinists' is either 'Presbyterians' or, to use the broader category, 'Puritans'. Unfortunately, given the state of scholarly literature, this is a confusing use of the term. Indeed, Evans uses terms such as Calvinist, Puritan, Presbyterian and Separatist without defining them or connecting to the massive scholarly literature which discusses these concepts. It is, of course, unreasonable to expect the writer of a general history to have acute knowledge of every area upon which she touches, but some knowledge of the contours of current scholarly discussion is surely vital in a textbook. Evans's failure to grasp how contemporary Reformation scholars use such important terms leads to a most unhelpful and misleading treatment of the Anglicanism of the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.  This will simply confuse, not enhance, classroom discussion.

There are other problems in the book.  In addition to the lack of discussion of the material factors as noted above, there are other significant omissions. There is no mention, for example, of the role of eschatological expectation in the late Middle Ages and its influence on the Reformation. Thus, Evans never addresses Savonarola's life and influence, nor Luther's attitude to the Jews, both of which connect to this eschatological perspective. There is no discussion of the Geneva Bible, which is odd given the space devoted to the King James Version. One cannot understand why the King James Version was even written without knowing about the Geneva Bible. Further, the later chapters lack any real structure and have a rambling, anecdotal, superficial quality which leads to some strange moments: why, for example, is Samuel Taylor Coleridge quoted on p. 442?  

Then there is the mercurial scholarly apparatus: the website of Still Waters Revival Books Newsletter is not a scholarly resource for the text of the Scottish Confession of 1560 (p. 413).  The citation should be from the collection of E.F.K. Müller, or even those of Schaff or Dennison, not an eccentric website. There are also repeated confusing references to the confession of faith of one Emmanuel Baptist Church and even to a couple to Chick Tracts.  These are not explained and left to stand as if somehow they represent mainstream Reformation Protestantism in the present. I found these references superfluous and confusing.

I really wanted to like this book. Teaching Reformation church history is my primary task and one of the great joys of my life. I am consequently always looking for good textbooks in this area. Given G. R. Evans solid record as a fine scholar this looked very much as if it was going to be just such a book, especially given the stated emphasis on the long view, rooting the Reformation in medieval history. 

Sadly, the multitude of factual mistakes it contains render it a complete classroom liability.  Pace the stellar jacket commendations from some of the most learned Reformation scholars alive, I cannot recommend it other than as a salutary lesson in what happens when one writes too quickly and too confidently outside of one's own field of expertise.  As a teacher, I cannot use this book because it does not do that which I require of a textbook: provide a reliable guide to names, dates and events. I also fear that in the hands of the rising generation of evangelicals who have a zeal for the reformation without much knowledge of what it really represented, this book will do about as much theological good as putting a brush and a pot of red paint in the hands of a two year old: the results are going to be very messy indeed. I hope that if IVP consider a second edition, they will at least require substantial rewriting of the last 250 pages and possibly have another medievalist cast their eye over first 250.

In short, this is a very curious book: curious for the fact that a fine scholar such as Professor Evans would produce such a seriously flawed piece of work; and curious for the fact that highly respected scholars have given it their imprimaturs in the form of glowing jacket commendations. Sadly, in line with the old proverb, you cannot judge this book by its cover.

]]> http://www.reformation21.org/articles/you-cannot-judge-this-book-by-its-cover-a-review.php http://www.reformation21.org/articles/you-cannot-judge-this-book-by-its-cover-a-review.php Articles Featured Reformation history Mon, 28 May 2012 13:57:47 -0500 Weight of a Flame: The Passion of Olympia Morata CarrWeightofaFlame_95.jpgSimonetta Carr, Weight of a Flame: The Passion of Olympia Morata (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2011).

In the interest of disclosure this review was written by a thirty-something-year-old man with the help of two young ladies under age five and a six year old boy. I mention this because Simonetta Carr's, Weight of a Flame: The Passion of Olympia Morata appears in P&R's "Chosen Daughters" historical fiction series written for teenage girls. Needless to say, my kids and I were well beyond the scope of the target audience of this book. It didn't matter; we loved it.

Weight of a Flame tells the true story of Olympia Morata, a sixteenth century Italian child prodigy who was groomed by her father, Fulvio, for an academic career. Tragically, Olympia dies before turning thirty, but not before receiving international attention for her precision in Greek and Latin as well as in Protestant theology. The tragedy of her death is tempered by an all-important lesson Olympia learns along her short journey: God uniquely gifts his children to live for his glory. Because Carr's first foray into historical fiction frequently reads like a psychological novel, revealing the unspoken thoughts of the young protagonist, readers can feel the "thick blanket of snow melting inside of her heart" as she reflects on the reality of Galatians 2:20 (p. 99) and first catches the vision for living soli Deo gloria.

Olympia's interaction with her father is particularly touching. Less than halfway through the book, I wasn't sure if my young daughters were tracking. But after the first eight words of chapter eight ("Fulvio died in the early days of autumn...") they simultaneously burst into tears. Olympia's affection for her father beautifully transitions into a lovely relationship with her Christ-like husband Andreas. The last half of the book is a romance novel in the best and most-biblical sense of the word. The only thing more beautiful than the blossoming love between this briefly-wed couple is Olympia's passion for Christ; a passion forged partly in the crucible of Inquisition-era persecution.  

Despite a sometimes overly-robust vocabulary including quite a number of foreign words, this book is a highly recommended and heartwarming introduction to an obscure but significant daughter of the Italian Reformation.
      
 ]]> http://www.reformation21.org/shelf-life/weight-of-a-flame-the-passion-of-olympia-morata.php http://www.reformation21.org/shelf-life/weight-of-a-flame-the-passion-of-olympia-morata.php Shelf Life novels Reformation history Mon, 21 May 2012 15:24:37 -0500 From Theodicy to Theophany: Inscrutability and the Problem of Evil Editors' Note: This month, Dr. Oliphint begins answering the questions sent to us by reformation21 readers. We want to thank everyone for their questions and we pray the answers from Dr. Oliphint will be a blessing.

The late Antony Flew told a now-famous parable of an "Invisible Gardener." Two explorers find a garden in the middle of the jungle. In this garden there are many flowers and many weeds. One explorer claims that there must be a gardener who tends the plot, while the other explorer denies it. They set a watch, but nothing happens. The believing explorer still affirms his belief in a gardener, but suggests that the gardener is invisible. The two explorers set up an electrified barbed-wire fence and patrol it with bloodhounds. Still nothing happens. The wires never sway, and the bloodhounds never bark. The believer maintains his belief in the gardener. The gardener, so he argues, is invisible, intangible, and insensitive to electric shock. He has no scent and makes no sound, but he loves and tends the garden. Finally, the skeptic despairs and asks the believer how his gardener differs from no gardener at all.

There are at least two aspects to Flew's story.  The first is the philosophical aspect.  Flew was attempting to illustrate that any statement that cannot be, at least possibly, falsified, is nonsense.  His claim is that any statement that purports to take in everything means nothing in the end.  For a statement to be meaningful, it must be set against contrary states of affairs.

The second aspect to Flew's parable is more revealing. In writing of his rationale for the parable, Flew says:
Someone tells us that God loves us as a father loves his children.  We are reassured.  But then we see a child dying.  His Heavenly Father reveals no obvious sign of concern.  Some qualification is made.  Just what would have to happen to entitle us to say 'God does not love us' or even 'God does not exist'?  What would have to occur to constitute for you a disproof of the love of, or of the existence of, God?(1)
Flew's conclusion was that the God of Christianity is dead; He has died the death of a thousand qualifications. And it was the problem of suffering and evil that motivated this conclusion.

The motivation behind Flew's parable is "the problem of evil." This problem is replete throughout the history of thought. Generally speaking, the problem states that it is unwise, if not downright irrational, to continue to believe something when there is evidence that either undercuts or rebuts its truth.  So, we're told, it is unwise at best, if not downright irrational, to believe in the kind of God Christians believe in when all around us, and around the world, is evidence to the contrary - evidence that undercuts and invalidates the belief itself.

Now whatever we think of Flew's parable of the Invisible Gardner, we can all relate to the motivation behind the parable. The motivation behind the parable is the sometimes horrendous affliction that comes often to people, and that is obvious to anyone whose eyes are open. And the difficulty with such atrocities is that they continue to happen, and happen with nauseating regularity, in the face of our insistence that God, who is goodness itself, exists.

The first thing that needs to be said is that the problem of evil is, perhaps first of all, an intensely pastoral problem.  To have it reside simply on the intellectual level is an evil in and of itself. However, there is also an intensely philosophical problem that concerns those of who work in the area of Christian apologetics - a defense of the Christian faith.  As a matter of fact, it seems to me that the problem of evil is one of those problems where the pastoral and philosophical concerns are most closely related.  If it is dealt with properly in a philosophical way, one cannot help but deal, at the same time, with at least some of the pastoral concerns.

The problem of evil is still considered to be the strongest argument against Christianity specifically, or theism generally.  It is thought to be the Achilles Heel of Christianity, the one thing that brings the whole position crumbling down. One of the reasons that the problem of evil is considered to be such a strong argument against Christianity is that it has such broad appeal. Unlike strictly metaphysical or epistemological arguments against God's existence, the problem of evil is one that is more intuitive, understood by virtually anyone, whether or not he is a philosopher.  All we need do is live in this world and we have first-hand experience and understanding that things are terribly wrong.  When we think about the typical notion of God in relation to all that is terribly wrong, the problem becomes acute.

This problem goes back at least as far as Epicurus (342-270 BC), and was set forth by David Hume in his Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion. It is articulated in two, many would say, contradictory propositions:

1.    God is omniscient, omnipotent and wholly good.
2.    There is evil.

There are two basic ways to argue the inconsistency of these two propositions.  The first, and historically most predominant way, is to argue that these two propositions are logically contradictory. This argument is still used by some, but it has given way to the so-called "evidential" argument from evil, and it is an attempt to show that, given the sheer amount of evidence of evil in the world, God, most likely, cannot exist. 

In other words, the evidential argument begins by asking us to look around and to see if bad things happen. Sane people answer yes to that question. Then the evidential argument goes one step further. It concedes the point that it might be the case that some bad things happen for good purposes. That is, it concedes some merit to a kind of "Greater Good" Defense - a child receiving a shot, or a chemotherapy patient.  But then it asks a further question.  It asks us to look around and to see if there are any evils in the world that occur without justification.

One recent book out on this subject is entitled, God and Inscrutable Evil.  The evidential argument depends, not just on the existence of evil, but on the existence of what it calls inscrutable evil. This is evil, one author tells us, for which there is no God-justifying reason.  By that he means that this is evil that is inexplicable - it cannot be explained, even by referring to God.

So, those who hold to the evidential argument, first propose that there is evil, and lots of it, which is fundamentally inscrutable. That is, there is evil for which there is no 'God-justifying reason.'  Why think that there has to be a God-justifying reason?  Part of the answer to that question is in the language we have used to discuss this problem.  

In the eighteenth century, a philosopher by the name of Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz wrote a work entitled, Theodicy.  That word itself carries with it the notion that evil can only be sufficiently explained if we know God's reasons for it.

Even the most pious among us, in our honest moments, pleads for an explanation of certain kinds of evil.  And we plead for a reason, not because we want to know everything, but because we know that such things just don't fit with everything else that we know.  So the evidential argument can carry a significant amount of plausibility. And the objectors go further and tell us that unless we can show to them the God-justifying reason for inscrutable evil, that is, unless we Christians can make inscrutable evil 'scrutable,' then they have to conclude that God most likely does not exist after all.
 
The problem, however, is that inscrutability is located in the wrong place, initially. It is best, when thinking of this problem, to begin thinking, not of Theodicy, but of Theophany.

The initial problem with the problem of evil is that God Himself is inscrutable.  Think for a minute about someone being absolutely independent. Is it any wonder then that there are things that this inscrutable God does that our minds are unable to contain?  Paul even tells us that God's ways and judgments are beyond our ability to scrutinize them (Rom. 11:33f.).

That, of course, was the lesson that Job had to learn.  We are privy to more of what is going on with Job than even Job was so it is sometimes too easy to be hard on him.  But remember Job wants an answer to his own personal problem of evil. And how does God answer Job?
Job 40:1-10:
The LORD said to Job: "Will the one who contends with the Almighty correct him? Let him who accuses God answer him!" Then Job answered the LORD: "I am unworthy-- how can I reply to you? I put my hand over my mouth. I spoke once, but I have no answer-- twice, but I will say no more." Then the LORD spoke to Job out of the storm: "Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me. "Would you discredit my justice? Would you condemn me to justify yourself? Do you have an arm like God's, and can your voice thunder like his? Then adorn yourself with glory and splendor, and clothe yourself in honor and majesty.
In the midst of His suffering, Job decided it was time for inscrutability to stop.  And so he tells God that it's time to give answers.  There needs to be a God-justifying reason for what is happening to Job, and in the world generally.

And how does God respond to Job?  Job, you've forgotten one crucial thing - I am God, and besides Me, there is no other.  Inscrutability lies at the feet of Almighty God, and therefore there are things that we simply will not understand - things, as Job says, "too wonderful for me, which I did not know."

That's the first inscrutable.  But there is a second that we find throughout the pages of Scripture that gives us some clue to God's perspective on the problem of evil.

The amazing thing about this God, the One who Is Who He Is, is that he announces Himself as the Covenant God - the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob -- and of the church.

The most disconcerting statement of Antony Flew's was not that theology is meaningless unless falsifiable, not that God has been qualified by Christians into non-existence.  The most troubling statement of Flew's is contained in his reason for thinking the way he does: That God, our Heavenly Father, "reveals no obvious sign of concern."

Has God revealed any sign of concern?  Not only has He revealed a sign of concern, He has entered into and identified, in the most excruciating way imaginable, the very problem itself -  because He has come down.  And the One who was in the very form of God, did not consider equality with God something to be held on to, but emptied Himself, taking the very form of a servant, and becoming obedient, even to the point of death on a cross (cf. Phil. 2:5-11).

This God, who is the great I AM, sent His Son, His Only Son, to die for the likes of us.  This God, the I AM, made Him who knew no evil, to be evil on our behalf, just so we might become the righteousness of God in Him.

Do you want the ultimate inscrutable?  Isaiah tells us (53:10) that the Great I AM was pleased to crush His only Son - so that when His Only Son cried out on that cross - "My God, My God, why have you forsaken Me?" the inscrutable answer was so that His sinful, finite, suffering people might live.

In Romans 8:32, Paul reminds us of that ultimate inscrutable - He reminds us that God did not spare His own Son. Do you remember how Stuart Hine put it in his hymn "How Great Thou Art"?
 
"And when I think that God, His Son not sparing, sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in

So our response to Flew's parable, and to others who demand that God bow to their inquisition, is simply this: Whatever God's ultimate reasons for evil in this world, far from being unconcerned, He came down, and, at the costliest expense imaginable, as the only innocent one who ever lived, was put to death on a cross. Therefore, those who put their trust in Him can say with the apostle Paul, that whatever God's reasons, in spite of the sheer inscrutability of His ways, "I consider that the suffering of this present age is not worthy to be compared to the glory that will be revealed in us." (Romans 8:18) Because He who knew no evil, came down, and became evil on our behalf. In that way, by way of Theophany, he, personally and painfully, resolved the problem of evil for eternity. Do we really need to know more than that?

Notes:
1. A. Flew, "Theology and Falsification," New Essays in Philosophical Theology, eds.  A. Flew and A. MacIntyre, 98-99.

]]> http://www.reformation21.org/articles/from-theodicy-to-theophany-inscrutability-and-the-problem-of-evil.php http://www.reformation21.org/articles/from-theodicy-to-theophany-inscrutability-and-the-problem-of-evil.php Articles Featured Apologetics problem of evil Mon, 21 May 2012 13:41:29 -0500 J.V. Fesko, Galatians feskoGalatians_95.jpgJ. V. Fesko, Galatians (Tolle Lege Press, 2012), xxvii + 180 pp.

In the last few decades, there has been a revival of lectio continua preaching, which is beginning to produce a harvest of expository commentaries. This can only have the happy effect of encouraging the practice of systematic expository preaching in our pulpits. With the publication of Galatians, Tolle Lege Press introduces The Lectio Continua Expository Commentary on the New Testament, which aims to provide lectio continua sermons, originally delivered to Reformed congregations, which clearly and faithfully communicate the context, meaning, gravity, and application of God's inerrant Word. Each volume of expositions aspires to be redemptive-historical, covenantal, Reformed and confessional, trinitarian, person-and-work-of-Christ-centered, and teeming with practical application (xviii).

The first volume of the series contains twenty-two sermons on Paul's letter to the Galatians, which are the fruit of Rev. John Fesko's gospel ministry at Geneva Orthodox Presbyterian Church. These sermons are focused on Christ and full of Christ. After explaining the meaning of each text, Fesko reflects on its theological significance and draws out practical applications. His judicious use of illustrations does not divert attention from the biblical text but rather draws the reader into the text.

Fesko identifies the chief subject of the epistle as "the justification of man," which he defines in a forensic, soteriological sense. "To be justified," he says, "is to be declared righteous before the tribunal of God" (xxiii). "In our justification by faith alone God imputes (or credits) the perfect law-keeping (or obedience) of Jesus to sinners and transfers the sinner's guilt and penalty for his violation of the law to Christ" (xxiv). While the book is essentially a positive statement of Paul's message, the author occasionally refutes certain theological errors, particularly those associated with the New Perspective on Paul and the Federal Vision.

One of the major strengths of the work is its emphasis on Paul's eschatological framework, which is the matrix of his theology. According to Paul,
the long-awaited new heavens and earth are not only a future but a present reality. They have dawned with the advent of Christ and his outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Hence, Paul stresses the fact that circumcision is a mark that belongs to the present evil age (1:4) and the elementary principles of the world (4:3, 9), and consequently it counts for nothing ... The new creation does not begin at the conclusion of all things but in the middle of history. At the consummation, however, Christ will close the present evil age and the only thing that will be left is the new creation and those who are a part of it by Christ's regenerating grace ... In the meantime, the Church is on a pilgrimage to the New Jerusalem as we follow Christ and walk by the Spirit, like Israel of old followed the pillar of cloud by day and fire by night (xxv).
Fesko often comes back to this eschatological perspective and uses it to interpret various passages in the letter. For example, concerning the works of the flesh and the fruit of the Spirit, he writes,
The two realms, flesh and Spirit, are completely antithetical--there is no agreement between them. They are two different ages, what Paul has called the "present evil age" (1:4), and the new creation that has dawned in Christ; Paul elsewhere refers to the "age to come" (Eph. 1:21). Each age is marked by different conduct. The present evil age is marked by sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and the like (5:19-21). The age to come, the epoch that has dawned through the work of the last Adam and the outpouring of the life-giving Spirit, is marked by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (5:22-23) ... Paul wanted the Galatians to know that the power to manifest the fruit of the Spirit did not come from themselves but from Christ and the Spirit. Hence, Paul told the Galatians to breathe the air of the new creation, if you will. Were they to return to the bondage of the law, then they would breath the sin-polluted air of the present evil age; this would have an injurious effect on their sanctification. If they looked heavenward, to Christ seated in the heavenly places, and relied upon the Holy Spirit, then they would manifest his fruit. The air of the new creation would fill their lungs and enable them to live for Christ (139-40).
Here, Fesko brilliantly weaves together Paul's teaching concerning the fruit of the Spirit and his eschatology, particularly his two-age construct. Unfortunately, most commentaries on Galatians fail to recognize this eschatological dimension to Paul's teaching and, therefore, fail to make the connection between what Paul says in 1:4 with what he says throughout the letter.

Another feature of Fesko's commentary that sets it apart from the rest is his sensitivity to Paul's typological use of the Exodus narrative. "Paul's doctrine," he says, "is enrobed in Israel's narrative history--the Exodus" (138). For example, he writes,
Just like Israel wanting to return to the pots of meat in Egypt, so too the Gentile and Jewish Christians [in Galatia] were wanting to return to the bondage of the elementary principles of the world ... For both Jew and Gentile it was an attempt to turn back the clock and live as if Christ had never come ... To return to the law as a means of one's salvation is to return to a yoke of slavery... it is like Israel wanting to return to the slavery of Egypt after they had been delivered miraculously through the Red Sea (95, 96, 122).
We find another example of this typology in what Fesko writes concerning Paul's instructions to walk in the Spirit (5:16-18).
Looking to Israel's desert wanderings is key to understanding Paul's instructions to walk by the Spirit ... Paul has employed language and images from Israel's past to characterize life under the Mosaic covenant. Before Christ came and inaugurated the new creation, Israel was "held captive" and "imprisoned" under the law (3:23). Paul told the Galatians that, under the Mosaic covenant, they were "enslaved" by "weak and worthless elementary principles of the world" (4:8-9). For a first-century Jew steeped in the knowledge of the Old Testament, these words and images would undoubtedly invoke Israel's slavery under Pharaoh in Egypt. By this language, Paul argues that the law was akin to Pharaoh; Christ, one greater than Moses, delivered God's people from the bondage of the law. But Israel's Exodus narrative did not end with their miraculous deliverance at the Red Sea ... [God] led them [through the wilderness] by the cloud-presence of the Spirit--when the Spirit moved, Israel was supposed to follow (Exod. 13:21; Num. 9:17; Neh. 9:12). Israel did not need a map--they simply had to walk by the Spirit ... Now, Jesus Christ our Great Shepherd leads us through the wilderness on the last and final Exodus. Christ leads us by the presence of the Holy Spirit, like Israel of old being led by the cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night. In our pilgrimage to the heavenly Jerusalem, we must be led by the Holy Spirit (138, 140, 142).
In my opinion, the best sermons in the book are the three sermons on Galatians 5:16-25. Here, Fesko brilliantly uses Paul's eschatology, his Exodus typology and the book of Isaiah to illuminate this well-known but often misinterpreted passage in Galatians.

As far as weaknesses, I would point out two--both of which arise from the nature of preaching versus the nature of writing, which are two very different genres. First, the book tends to be repetitive. When preaching through a book, it is often necessary to remind the congregation of what they heard last week, but it is usually unnecessary to remind the reader of what he read in the previous chapter.

Second, as is commonly recognized, sermons are often better heard than read. What may be considered a "living and powerful" sermon when preached may simply not have the same sort of energy in print. As I read through the book, once or twice, I suspected that to be the case with this series of sermons on Galatians. That, however, is no fault of the author; it is merely the result of exchanging media: the living voice for the printed word. Nevertheless, there is certainly great value in publishing sermons and in reading the sermons of others. Therefore, I highly commend this expository commentary on Galatians as a fine example of lectio continua preaching that serves the glory of God.

Rev. Glen J. Clary is pastor of Immanuel Orthodox Presbyterian Church in West Collingswood, NJ and a D. Min. candidate at Erskine Theological Seminary.

]]> http://www.reformation21.org/shelf-life/jv-fesko-galatians.php http://www.reformation21.org/shelf-life/jv-fesko-galatians.php Shelf Life Galatians J.V. Fesko Mon, 07 May 2012 10:34:41 -0500 Can the New Testament Canon be Defended? Derek Thomas Interviews Michael Kruger
Derek Thomas: I often tell my students when lecturing on the doctrine of Scripture that the toughest questions to answer relate to the canon. With recent criticisms of the canon by Bart Ehrman and others, what made you take on this task of defending it as vociferously as you do in this book?

Michael Kruger: One of main reasons I have focused my research on the area of canon is because it is such a significant area of vulnerability for biblical Christianity.  That is not to say we lack reasons for believing in the canon (I think we have very good reasons), rather it is simply to say that the average believer is not aware of those reasons and therefore is unable to articulate them. This makes Christians particularly vulnerable to the challenges of modern-critical scholars (e.g., Bart Ehrman) who seem bent on destroying the integrity of the canon. 

Put simply, when it comes to canon issues I think Christians, generally speaking, are in a bit of an epistemological crisis. They believe something but are not aware of the foundations for that belief.  For these reasons, my book Canon Revisited is a different sort of book on canon than some might expect. I am not directly addressing the question of whether the canon is true--the book is not designed to somehow prove the truth of the canon to the skeptic.  Rather, I am addressing the question of whether Christians have sufficient grounds for knowing whether it is true.  

[DT] How do you answer the charge that the canon is a human production? Is the answer essentially different from the charge that the content of the canon is also of human origin?

[MK] The assumption of modern critical scholarship is that the canon is merely a human creation--it is something that early Christians put together to serve their own needs and purposes. For this reason, scholars have devoted all their energies toward finding a natural explanation for the canon's existence (e.g., Marcion, Montanism).  This is very similar to the belief of many critical scholars that the content of these books is also just a human production.  They view the entire biblical enterprise (the content of these books, and the number of these books) as purely arbitrary. 

In response, we simply need to point out that these assumptions of modern scholars are simply that - assumptions. They are entirely unproven. How do critical scholars know that the canon was an entirely human construct?  How do they know that God had no hand in it?  For someone to rule out divine intervention would require them to either know the mind and actions of God or to know that God doesn't exist.  But, the critical scholar has no basis for knowing either of these things. Thus, it is clear that these naturalistic assumptions are more the starting point of critical scholarship, not its conclusion. 

[DT] What are the most crucial issues related to a conservative/reformed defense of the canon today?

[MK] I think one of the critical weaknesses in modern canonical studies is that Christians often have no theology of canon.  We have a lot of historical facts--anyone who has read the fine works of Metzger and Bruce will have plenty of patristic data to work with.  But, a pile of historical facts is not sufficient to authenticate these books.  We need a framework for understanding what the canon is, how God gave it, and what means God gave for believers to identify these books.  And those issues are inevitably derived from our theological beliefs.  Thus, the canon is ultimately a theological issue.  This does not mean that historical data play no role (it plays a very significant role), but that historical data is not self-interpreting.  When it comes to the canon question, theology and history need to be dialogical partners, not adversaries. 

[DT] Given that Jesus places his imprimatur on the Old Testament canon, the argument for its completion seems a relatively easy one. Does the argument for the New Testament canon largely rest on an argument of providential overruling? 

[MK] Our belief that we have the right 27 books is certainly founded on the fact that God providentially worked in the early church.  But, our answer to the question of how we know we have the right books can go further than just saying "God's providence."  I argue in Canon Revisited that God has provided a reliable means by which God's people can recognize his books (through the help of the Holy Spirit).  Part of that means is the fact that God's books bear divine qualities; they have attributes that reflect God's power and character. Historically speaking, Christians have always believed there is something inherently different about these books due to the fact that they are inspired by God. We do not believe that they are just ordinary books that God simply chooses to use (a la Barth), but that they are qualitatively different--they are living and active, shaper than a double-edged sword, dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow (Heb 4:12).  For this reason, the Reformers believed that God's people could rightly recognize these books and distinguish them from others.  Thus we could say, in a sense, that these books chose themselves. 

[DT] You seem to be critical of some of our Reformed heroes (Hodge, Warfield) in their attempts to defend the twenty-seven books of the New Testament, arguing instead for the "self-authenticating" nature of the canon. How do we defend this argument against the charge of circularity ("the canon is canon because it says it is")?

[MK] Like most Reformed folks, I am a big fan of Hodge and Warfield.  And I think they are absolutely right to focus on apostolicity as a key part of how we know which books are canonical.  My only critique of them in the book was that (a) they tended to rely on "neutral" historical investigations in some problematic ways, and (b) they did not give sufficient attention to the self-authenticating nature of these books. 

Although some have conceived of a self-authenticating canon as circular, it is decidedly not. To say the canon is self-authenticating is not to say we should believe the canon simply because it claims to be the word of God. The claims of the Scriptures are important, but that is not what self-authenticating is referring to. Rather, to say the canon is self-authenticating is to say that these books objectively bear qualities that show them to be divinely-produced books. It is analogous to our belief that natural revelation (the created world) exhibits qualities that show it is divinely-produced.  Do we not believe that "The heavens declare the glory of God" (Ps 16:1; cf. Rom 1:20)? In the same manner, why would we not believe that God's special revelation also bears evidence of his handiwork?  There is nothing circular about that.  

[DT] How crucial is the issue of the dating of individual books to the issue of the canon? For instance, does the continued disagreement over the dating of Revelation (late 60s or early 90s?) contribute to doubts over canon?

[MK] Dating plays a crucial role in identifying canonical books for this simple reason: all canonical books are apostolic in origin. They are the product of the redemptive-historical activity of the apostles. Thus, no book could be canonical that was written outside of the time period in which the apostles could have presided over the transmission of their tradition.  Indeed, this is the very reason the Shepherd of Hermas was rejected by the Muratorian fragment, our earliest canonical list.  The continued debate over the date of Revelation, however, is not a problem because either position has Revelation written by the apostle John himself.  Thus, it would still be an apostolic book. 

[DT] To what extent does postmodernity's deconstruction of history - i.e. that we cannot be sure of anything in the past - add to the problem of the canon?

[MK] The postmodern challenge is precisely the challenge my book is designed to address.  The postmodern objection to the Christian canon (and all religion for that matter) is not what we might think.  We assume that postmoderns object to the canon on the grounds that the canon is false (what we might call a de facto objection).  But, that is actually more of a modernist objection. In contrast, the postmodernist objects to the belief in canon on the grounds that there is no basis for knowing, regardless of whether it is true or false (what we might call the de jure objection). In other words, when it comes to the Christian belief in canon, the big complaint of the postmodernist is "How could you ever really know such a thing?  Given all the disagreements and chaos in early Christianity, it would be arrogant to claim your books are the right ones."  Thus, the postmodern concern has to do with the grounds for our belief in canon.  This postmodern question, I believe, is the biggest question for Christians today, and that is why I decided to focus on it in my book. 

[DT] Have you ever had doubts about the canon of the New Testament? If so, how were they resolved?

[MK] Sure, like anyone I have had my own doubts and struggles. Some may not know this, but I was actually a student of Bart Ehrman's during my undergraduate years at UNC-Chapel Hill. When I took his introduction to the New Testament class I found myself facing many questions that I could not answer. But, I resolved to find those answers. It was actually my exposure to Ehrman that led to my keen interest in early Christian history, particularly the history of the NT text and canon. 

[DT] I once heard a sermon that bore the title, "The authorship of 2 Peter." Is this something that you would recommend preachers do in the pulpit?

[MK] It depends. I think that we spend far too little time explaining from the pulpit why we believe and can trust the Scriptures.  We assume that our congregations are sufficiently informed about such things and that their beliefs are secure. But, of course, this is not the case.  Even solid believers struggle over these issues and I think pastors ought to consider how they can regularly encourage their flocks on these matters. Now, that does not mean that we turn our pulpits into lecterns and abandon the preaching of the Word.  The preaching of the Word is still the central means of grace.  Moreover, people's belief in the authority and truth of the Word can actually be enhanced through solid expositional preaching. For this reason, I would have concerns if the entire pulpit time was spent only on historical data about the authorship of 2 Peter. That said, I still think there are times when pastors need to hit these issues more head on. Our people need this sort of instruction and we should looks for ways to give it to them. 

Michael J. Kruger, professor of New Testament and academic dean at RTS-Charlotte, has just published a book on the canon of the New Testament (Canon Revisited: Establishing the Origins and Authority of the New Testament Books [Crossway, 2012]). 

]]> http://www.reformation21.org/articles/can-the-new-testament-canon-be-defended-derek-thomas-interviews-michael-kruger.php http://www.reformation21.org/articles/can-the-new-testament-canon-be-defended-derek-thomas-interviews-michael-kruger.php Articles Featured Canon Michael Kruger Mon, 07 May 2012 10:11:53 -0500 "Rarely, Rarely Comest Thou Spirit of Delight" Rarely, rarely comest thou,
Spirit of Delight!
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day
'Tis since thou art fled away.
P. B. Shelley

So wrote the poet, Shelley, suggesting that life had darker moments more than brighter ones. Though much modern Christianity tends to suggest otherwise, it is often the case of the spiritual experience of some Christians. There are the Eyeores and Puddleglums of the Christian community who tend to see the glass half-empty rather than half-full. One such is Thomas--Doubting Thomas as he is now been remembered by us all.

The scene is well known: Jesus had appeared on that fateful day that changed the
world--the day of resurrection--to the disciples in the Upper Room in Jerusalem where
the ten disciples were gathered behind locked doors (John 20:19-31). Ten--because
Judas had already taken his life and Thomas had gone AWOL. Sometime during the following week (the text isn't precise here) the disciples find Thomas and say to him, "We have seen the Lord," but he replies, "Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe" (20:25). 

A week after the appearance of Jesus to the ten, the scenario repeats itself, only this time Thomas is present. After Jesus has pronounced his benediction, "Peace be with you" (20:26), Jesus turns immediately to Thomas (the first time Thomas has seen him alive from the dead). And Jesus says to Thomas, "Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe" (20:27).

What are we to make of this? At least three things come to the surface betraying how the Great Physician deals with despondent souls:

1. There is no personality type that Jesus cannot address. Thomas is a classic melancholic type, a temperament that we readily recognize as true of some in a marked degree and true of all to some degree. Like the greeting of Eyeore (which hangs on the study wall): "There are those who wish you a good morning. If it is a good morning, which I doubt!" These are souls which are anchored to gloom, who can barely lift their eyes from the ground, and for whom the good news of the gospel is too good to be true. Things are bad, really bad and no one, not even Jesus, is going to dispel that gloom. Jesus addresses Thomas and confronts his gloom head on--but, what gentleness!

2. There is no amount of stress that Jesus cannot relieve. For ten days (since the previous Friday of Jesus' crucifixion) Thomas had been in hiding, fearful of what might happen to him, troubled by the spectacle he had made of himself in the Upper Room ("How can we know the way?" he had blurted out to Jesus even after three years of instruction!). These were difficult days to be sure and we should be slow to judge, but Thomas wants to be alone, shunning even the company of fellow disciples and thereby missing the blessing of the appearance on the resurrection day. But whatever stress he feels, Jesus is there now and is determined to relieve it.

3. There is no amount of silliness that Jesus will not find a way to overcome. Yes, silliness is what I call it because that is what it is! Thomas's request to place his finger into the mark of the nails and to thrust his hand into Jesus' side is not a crisis of epistemology! It is pride, pure and simple. He is not about to be duped (as perhaps he thought the other ten had been). He is smarter then his colleagues, asking more profound questions to justify belief even though the risen Lord is standing before him having appeared though locked doors! But watch Jesus deal with this!  What tenderness! What condescension! Asking Thomas to stretch out his hand and do as he desires. Did he? Did Thomas actually do it? The text doesn't say, but I doubt that he did. His spirit is broken and he exclaims, "My Lord and my God!" (20:28).

What does Jesus do with hard-headed, melancholy types who are capable of sulking, denial, and over-compensating for their weakness with grandiose suggestions that make them look smarter than others?  

He brings them to their knees to confess his Lordship.  

There can be no discipleship apart from that.

]]> http://www.reformation21.org/articles/rarely-rarely-comest-thou-spirit-of-delight.php http://www.reformation21.org/articles/rarely-rarely-comest-thou-spirit-of-delight.php Articles Featured Mon, 30 Apr 2012 14:08:29 -0500 The Gospel Focus of Charles Spurgeon LawsonGospelFocusSpurgeon_63.jpgSteven J. Lawson, The Gospel Focus of Charles Spurgeon (Orlando, FL: Reformation Trust, 2012). 127 pages. 
Introduction

Some years ago, Dr. Al Mohler observed that, "We read biographies because worthy portraits of our fellow human beings help us to make sense of the world. We are especially fascinated by the lives of those who have made a difference in the world--whose mark remains visible even now. The lives of the famous and the infamous make for compelling reading."

Steve Lawson has written a compelling new biography of Charles Haddon Spurgeon where, in a short scope (127 pages), he opens up Spurgeon's life and ministry. Specifically, he focuses on how the doctrines of grace also known as Calvinism were the catalysts and fuel for Spurgeon's evangelistic fervor.

Often the charge is laid against those who affirm the doctrines of predestination and election that it is impossible to hold these beliefs and be evangelistic towards an unsaved world. Apart from this indictment being biblically flawed, church history also dispels this notion. For instance, such great evangelists as Whitefield, Edwards, and Lloyd Jones, etc. were all Calvinists. In this new book, Lawson adds another great name is to this venerable list: Charles Haddon Spurgeon.  

In the Preface, Dr. Lawson discusses his first encounter with Spurgeon's writing more than 30 years ago. Lawson was first beginning to wrestle with how the doctrines of sovereign grace would affect his preaching. He asked, "If God is sovereign in salvation, why preach the gospel?" (xviii). Concerning what he learned from Spurgeon, Lawson writes, 
Here is what captivated me. This gifted preacher, perhaps the greatest since the apostle Paul, was, by his own admission, a Calvinist--Reformed to the core, deeply committed to the doctrines of grace. But at the same time, he was an evangelist. How could these seemingly opposite realities fit together? How could one be both staunchly Calvinistic and passionately evangelistic? Spurgeon showed me. In one hand, he firmly held the sovereignty of God in man's salvation. With the other hand, he extended the free offer of the gospel to all. He preached straightforward Calvinistic doctrine, then, in the same sermon, fervently urged lost sinners to call on the name of the Lord"(xix).
What makes this book especially exciting is that it presents to an entire new generation of Calvinistic Christians the truth that both the doctrines of free and sovereign grace and the need to plead with people to be saved are not opposing doctrines. Rather they work hand-in-hand, as Spurgeon rightly maintained throughout the entirety of his ministry. When we preach to all men, we do so because we know that God has a people for Himself who will be saved. When we preach, we know that we are not on a fool's errand, but we go to the lost with zeal knowing that Christ's sheep will hear his voice and be drawn to him. Lawson records how well Spurgeon captured this thought when he says, "That is why we preach! If there was so many fish to be taken in the net, I will go and catch some of them. Because many are ordained to be caught, I spread my nets with eager expectation. I never could see why that should repress our zealous efforts. It seems to me to be the very thing that should awaken us to energy--that God has a people, and that these people shall be brought in" (85).

There is a delicate balance to be maintained here. If we focus on the one hand only on man's responsibility to come to Christ, we fall into the error of shallow Arminianism. On the other hand, if we focus only on God's predestinating work in salvation we fall into the error of Hyper-Calvinism. Both extremes are to be avoided at all cost, as Spurgeon rightly did. Lawson correctly notes that Spurgeon "... held these twin truths--divine sovereignty and human responsibility--because both are unmistakably taught in the Bible" (22).

Review

The first chapter, "Spurgeon's Life and Legacy," provides a helpful overview of Spurgeon's life, dealing with such topics as his early years, the important influences in his life, his conversion, his call to the ministry, his great successes as a gospel minister, the enormous work that he accomplished for the Lord, and the countless battles that he fought throughout his life. The chapter concludes with the final days of Spurgeon's life and his eventual passing from this earth to glory. 

Chapter two, "Unmistakable foundations," deals with Spurgeon's absolute commitment to the Bible as being the inspired, inerrant, Word of the living God. Dr. Lawson writes, "Spurgeon's strong belief in the doctrines of grace was firmly rooted and grounded in this truth. He did not proclaim the doctrines of sovereign grace simply because the Reformers or Puritans affirm them. Rather, he believed them because he found them clearly stated in the Bible. Though he considered himself a staunch Calvinist, Spurgeon asserted, 'I believe nothing merely because [John] Calvin taught it, but because I have found his teaching in the Word of God'" (19-20). 
Lawson goes on to say, "Spurgeon's beliefs were found exclusively on what he saw plainly taught in Scripture. He was, as it were, the embodiment of sola Scriptura--Scripture alone" (20).

In chapter three, "Sovereign Grace," Dr. Lawson demonstrates to us how Spurgeon's gospel focused ministry was intimately connected to his commitment to the doctrines of grace. Lawson elucidates how each of the five points of Calvinism was applied by Spurgeon, helping him to be the effective evangelist that he was. Lawson affirms that, "Without question, the doctrines of sovereign grace were the foundation stones of Spurgeon's gospel ministry, was the high-octane fuel that powered his fiery preaching of the gospel. The marvelous truths of God's supreme authority in man's salvation kindled the fires of his heart and stoked the flames of his pulpit" (58).

One thing I found particularly helpful in this chapter was Lawson's highlighting of the theological context in which Spurgeon began preaching Calvinism. Here Lawson states, 
When Charles Spurgeon burst onto the scene in the mid-19th century, he appeared heralding the doctrines of sovereign grace. At that time, Calvinism was no longer the dominant theology in England, as it had been in Puritan times. Instead, the doctrines of grace were becoming obscured from public view, cast aside as dusty and archaic relics of primitive 17th-century Europe. Victorian England had come of age, it was supposed, and its philosophers championed the autonomy of man, not the sovereignty of God. The teaching of the Reformation had all but faded from the evangelical scene" (37-38). 
This context is frighteningly similar to our day. Today, humanism and postmodernism are dominant theologies. Today, the truth of God's sovereignty and His rule over all things are not in the minds of most.  May the Lord help us as preachers of the Word of God to stand against such notions with the Bible truths that Spurgeon so firmly believed. 

In chapter four, "Evangelistic Fervor," the author displays how warmly and eagerly Spurgeon sought to reach sinners in his gospel preaching. Under seven headings, (Bold Proclamations, Open Invitations, Tender Appeals, Sound Reasonings, Compelling Persuasions, Authoritative Commands, and Severe Warnings) Lawson demonstrates with many quotes from Spurgeon how he pleaded with sinners that they might fly to Christ by faith alone and be saved. (Here it is as though the author transports us to another time and place to hear Spurgeon preaching live--exhilarating!) Dr. Lawson gives an example of Spurgeon's passionate preaching by quoting from his great evangelistic message entitled, "Compel Them to Come In." Spurgeon begins his earnest appeal: 
I know not what arguments to use with you. I appeal to your own self-interest. Oh my poor friend, would it not be better for you to be reconciled to the God of heaven, than to be his enemy? What are you getting by opposing God? Are you the happier for being his enemy? Answer, pleasure-seeker; hast thou found delights in that cup? Answer me, self-righteous man: hast thou found rest for the sole of thy foot in all thy works? Oh thou that goest about to establish thine own righteousness, I charge thee let conscience speak. Hast thou found it to be a happy path? Ah, my friend, "Wherefore doest thou spend thy money for that which is not bread, and thy labour for that which satisfieth not; harken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness (71).
As a pastor and preacher myself, this chapter was a fresh reminder for me to never hold back when it comes to pouring out my heart for the lost. It reminded me always make sure that I am pleading with men to come to Christ, for the good of their never dying souls. The example left by Spurgeon especially in this regard throughout his nearly four decades of ministry is exceptional--one that every true gospel minister should seek to imitate.

Chapter five, "The Heart of the Gospel," focuses on the sum and substance of Spurgeon's gospel proclamation from the beginning to the end of his ministry; namely the glorious person of Jesus Christ our Lord. Here Dr. Lawson shows that Jesus Christ in the fullness of His person was the all-encompassing focus of Spurgeon's gospel preaching and ministry. Lawson quotes Spurgeon, "This is the sum; my brethren, preach Christ, always and evermore. He is the whole gospel. His person, offices, and work must be our one great all-comprehending theme" (101). Again, Lawson quotes Spurgeon, "I sometimes wonder that you do not get tired of my preaching, because I do nothing but hammer away on this one nail. With me it is, year after year, 'None but Jesus! None but Jesus!'" (89).

Chapter six, "Spirit-Empowered Witness," brings our attention to Spurgeon's understanding of the role of the Holy Spirit in the gospel ministry. From the ministry of Spurgeon, Dr. Lawson asks and answers the questions: "How must the Spirit work in promoting the gospel? How does the Spirit direct a believer's words in the presentation of the gospel? What is the Spirit's effect on one who hears the gospel?" (107). I found this chapter particularly satisfying because it shows repeatedly how deeply dependent Spurgeon was on the Holy Spirit for all good to come from his labors. Spurgeon believed that absolutely everything was subject to the sovereignty of the third person of the blessed Trinity. Blessing on his labors would not ultimately come from himself, nor his intellectual ability--but by the Spirit sent down from heaven who alone can prosper the work.

Lawson writes, "Spurgeon believed that the gospel would advance only as the Spirit enabled him and other ministers to proclaim it" (108). He says, "Spurgeon maintained that the Holy Spirit must ignite a holy passion within him for the proclamation of the gospel. He was keenly aware that it is one thing to know the plan of salvation, but something else to feel its truths deeply. Spurgeon was firmly convinced that the Spirit would cause the gospel to burn like a fire within his bones as he preached, giving him a passion for God, His truth, and those to whom he spoke" (112). Lawson quotes these words spoken by Spurgeon to his pastoral students:
I believe in the Holy Ghost." Having pronounced that sentence as a matter of creed, I hope we can also repeat it as a devout soliloquy forced to our lips by personal experience. To us the presence and work of the Holy Spirit are the ground of our confidence. If we had not believed in the Holy Ghost we should have laid down our ministry long ere this, for "who is sufficient for these things?" Our hope of success, and our strength for continuing the service, lie in our belief that the Spirit of the Lord restest upon us (106). 
The book ends with a short conclusion entitled, "We Want Again Spurgeons," (1) wherein the author urges the reader to remember what made Spurgeon "the Prince of Preachers." Since we can never separate Spurgeon from what he believed, Lawson closes this stimulating biography by saying, "May the Lord grant to preachers in this present generation the mind, heart, and passion of Charles Spurgeon--a mind for truth, a heart for the world, and the passion for the glory of God. Truly, we want again Spurgeons" (126-127).

I cannot commend this compelling book too highly. As a lover of Spurgeon and one who fully espouses his doctrines (agreeing, again with him, that they are biblical), I believe Dr. Lawson has done a superb job in giving us yet another profile of a godly man of whom the world was not worthy. Spurgeon "being dead still speaks" through this wonderful, well-written and well-researched book. We are indebted to Steve Lawson for his labors for the church and the glory of Christ. Both ministers who occupy the pulpit and Christ's sheep who fill the pews should devour this work, for in doing so they will be challenged, edified, and built up in their most holy faith (Jude 20).

Rob Ventura is a pastor of Grace Community Baptist Church in North Providence, RI. He is a graduate of Reformed Baptist Seminary and is the co-author of A Portrait of Paul (Reformation Heritage Books). He is also a contributor to the Reformation 21 blog.


Notes:
1. This phrase is from Spurgeon's comment in his autobiography when he said, "We want again Luthers, Calvins, Bunyans, Whitefields, men fit to mark eras, whose names breathe terror in our foemen's ears. We have dire need of such."

]]> http://www.reformation21.org/shelf-life/the-gospel-focus-of-charles-spurgeon.php http://www.reformation21.org/shelf-life/the-gospel-focus-of-charles-spurgeon.php Shelf Life Mon, 23 Apr 2012 13:06:08 -0500 Who Knows? We finished our previous discussion by noting that there were elements of formal truth that the Skepchick attributed to Richard Dawkins. Because the Skepchick was not able to account either for her own outrage, or Dawkins' near-apathy toward the same, she was forced to move outside of her basic principles and attribute Dawkins' assessment to his gender, race and age. The point that I concluded with was that there was a formal truth to what the Skepchick supposed. The formal truth was that she located Dawkins' dismissive diatribe in aspects of Dawkins' character that were and are beyond his control. If what Dawkins delineated in his discussion concerning the Duchess of Dubieties and her disastrous dalliance is de facto despicable, it is so by virtue of factors outside Dawkins' own determinations; this is just the way he is.

But the Skepchick's analysis is a boo/hooray. 'Hooray' that the Skepchick was able to pinpoint factors outside of Dawkins' control, factors that are what they are in spite of what Dawkins might choose or hope to be. 'Boo' that she thought those factors to be simply and only of natural origin.

The passage in 1 Peter 3:15 provides the mandate for our apologetic endeavors; now it is time to look at the matter of apologetics. In other words, if 1 Peter 3:15 gives us the formal principle of apologetics, providing for its authority, what is the material principle, providing its content?

It is impossible  to understand the object of apologetics, i.e., unbelief, without meditating on the implications of Romans 1:18ff. We'll look at a few salient points in that passage and hope the meditative aspects will be applied by the reader. One note by way of preface to this passage - just exactly how one goes about the apologetic task is as varied as there are positions and people. What must be the case in all such tasks, however, is that biblical principles cannot be transgressed, sacrificed, undermined or subverted. The Bible gives us, we could say, apologetic boundaries within which we are bound to stay. Within those boundaries, however, there is a good bit of elbow room; we needn't feel constrained. On the contrary, understanding these principles will liberate us to address the root cause(s) of the clear and present danger of the position(s) and people with whom we interact.

As Paul begins his epistle to the Roman church, he sets his focus in explicit and unambiguous terms. "For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek," (1:16). There are those things, as Paul will remind his readers (Ro. 6:21), of which we ought to be ashamed, those things that will bring death. But the gospel, the good news, is life eternal, and of that no one should be ashamed. So Paul makes clear that the engine that will drive his exposition in this epistle is the euangelion, the good news of Jesus Christ.

But the bad news has to be understood before the good news can be seen for what it is. So Paul moves from God's righteousness revealed, in 1:17, to a discussion of God's wrath revealed, in vv. 1:18ff. There is so much packed into these verses, from 1:18 through chapter 2, that we can only highlights parts of it. One could profit greatly from hitting the "lowlights" as well in order to fill out the bigger picture:
For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth. For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse. For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and creeping things. (Rom. 1:18-23)
As Paul begins his discussion of the revelation of God's wrath from heaven, he has two primary aspects of that wrath in view -- the cause and the effects. He gives the universal scope of the cause itself in v. 18. God's wrath is revealed from heaven "against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth." It is ungodliness, and unrighteousness, against which God's wrath is revealed. But Paul goes on to define, in a striking way, just what it is that motivates God's wrath toward all who are in Adam, all who are covenant-breakers. He introduces a specificity to this unrighteousness; it is an unrighteousness that is defined essentially as a suppression of the truth.

Verse 18, then, is a general announcement of the fact that God's wrath is revealed, and of the reason for that wrath. The cause of God's wrath toward us is our unrighteous suppression of the truth. In other words, God's wrath is revealed from heaven because, in our wickedness and unrighteousness (in Adam), we hold down (in our souls) that which we know to be the case. Within the context of this general announcement, however, Paul knows that he has introduced two concepts, suppression and truth, that will need further clarification. In vv. 19-23 (and, to some extent, v. 25 as well), Paul develops and amplifies these two notions of 'suppression' and of 'truth.'

In v. 19, Paul tells us that by 'truth' he means "that which is known about God." The truth that is suppressed, therefore, is specifically truth about God. The way in which we come to know this truth is two-fold. We come to know it, in the first place, because it is evident among us. Paul will expand this idea in the next verse. Before that, however, he wants us to understand just how this truth, this knowledge of God is evident, or clear, among us.

This is a vitally important point to keep in mind. It is vitally important because Paul is concerned with God's activity in revealing Himself (more specifically, His wrath), and, in tandem with that, because Paul wants to highlight the contrast between what God is doing in this revelation, on the one hand, and what we (in Adam) do with it, on the other.So, Paul says immediately (even before he explains the sweeping scope of that which is evident among us) that the reason that God's revelation is evident among us is that God has made it evident to us. 

We should be clear about the emphasis of Scripture here. What the Lord is concerned to deny is that we, in our sins, as covenant-breakers in Adam, would ever, or could ever, produce or properly infer the knowledge of God that we have; we have it only because God gives it to us. We could not reason our way to it, nor could we properly conclude for this truth. This passage ensures that we are not tempted to think that the truth of God, as evident among us, is evident because we have marshaled the right arguments or have set our minds in the proper direction. The Lord reminds us here of the devastating effects sin continues to have on our thinking (in Adam). The truth that we know, that we retain, possess and suppress, therefore, is truth that is, fundamentally and essentially, given by God to us. God is the One who ensures that this truth will get through to us. It is His action, not ours, that guarantees our possession of this truth. The fact that God gives it guarantees its universality; if it were dependent on us, it could not be affirmed as universal.

The truth which we all, as creatures in Adam, know and suppress is a truth about God. Even more specifically (v. 20), it is a truth concerning the 'invisible things' of God, i.e., his eternal power and deity. What might Paul mean by these two categories? It seems that Charles Hodge is right in his assertion that what Paul has in mind here are "all the divine perfections," (See his commentary on Romans 1:20). Had Paul wanted to limit his description to only a few attributes of God that we know, he would more likely have delineated just exactly what characteristics of God were known through creation. Instead he uses two broad and general terms - "eternal power" and "divine nature."

This truth that we all know, then, is the truth of God's existence, infinity, eternity, immutability, glory, wisdom, etc. As Paul is developing this thought in v. 23, he speaks of this knowledge of the truth as "the glory of the incorruptible God." It is this that we all know as creatures of God. It is this that God gives, and that we necessarily 'take' as knowledge, that comes to us by virtue of His natural revelation.  God does this; He gets the truth through to us. This is part of what it means to be image of God.
There are two important aspects to this knowledge of God which are crucial to see. First, it is not knowledge in the abstract that is in view here. The Lord is speaking here of a knowledge that ensues on the basis of a real relationship. It is not the kind of knowledge we might get through reading about someone or something in a book or in the newspaper. Rather, it is relational, covenantal, knowledge. It is knowledge that comes to us because, as creatures of God, we are, always and everywhere, from the beginning and into eternity, confronted with God Himself. We are, even as we live in God's world every day, set squarely before the face of the God who made us, and in whom we live, and move and exist. This, then, is decidedly personal knowledge. It is knowledge of a person, of the Person, whom we have come to know by virtue of His constant and consistent revealing of Himself to us. This is why we are all left without excuse (v. 20).
This personal aspect of the knowledge that we have is made all the more prominent in verse 32. This verse serves as a transition between Paul's discussion of God's wrath revealed in chapter 1, and the revelation of God's law in chapter 2. Notice that Scripture can affirm that those who are in Adam "know God's righteous decree." This knowledge of the righteous requirements of God is included with our knowledge of God. To know God is to know (at least something of) His requirements. Along with the knowledge of God, in other words, comes the knowledge "that those who practice such things deserve to die." Instead of repenting, however, we, in Adam, rejoice in our disobedience and attempt to gather together others who share in our rebellion. Therefore, because this knowledge is a relational knowledge, and because the relationship is between God and the sinner, God ensures that we all know that the violations of His law in which we willingly and happily participate are capital offenses; they place us under the penalty of death. Our knowledge of God is a responsible, covenantal, knowledge which brings with it certain demands of obedience.
Here is the point to ponder, and which we will take up in our next article. Scripture says clearly that all people - from the beginning of time to eternity - because made in God's image, know the true God. Think about the implications of that for apologetics, evangelism and for daily life.

]]> http://www.reformation21.org/articles/who-knows.php http://www.reformation21.org/articles/who-knows.php Articles Featured Apologetics Mon, 23 Apr 2012 10:43:21 -0500 The Explicit Gospel mattchandlerexplicitgospel.jpgMatt Chandler with Jared Wilson, The Explicit Gospel. Crossway: Wheaton, IL, 2012. 229 pages.

Introduction

The Explicit Gospel by Matt Chandler with Jared C. Wilson joins the increasingly fashionable array of books on the gospel. Among several others in that crowd, The Explicit Gospel is a useful book with many admirable qualities. Principally, it points us to the matter of first importance, that "Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures" (1 Corinthians 15:3-4). I agree with the principle concerns of this book, but I believe the author could clarify and improve his case in several ways. My criticisms and suggestions will come toward the end of this review. But first, allow me to summarize the main features of the book.

The book is divided into two parts, each corresponding to a perspective on the gospel. The first is titled "The Gospel on the Ground" and refers to the gospel as it applies to specific individuals. The second part, "The Gospel in the Air," seeks to demonstrate that these individual salvation stories are bound up in the grand scope of God's unfolding plan to bring all things to consummation in Christ. The "explicit gospel" holds these two perspectives together as mutually regulating and complementary.

The Gospel on the Ground

In "The Gospel on the Ground," the author moves through the headings of God, Man, Christ, and Response. There are many helpful things throughout these chapters. But, the chapter on man, the section titled "The Place of God's Justifiable Wrath" is perhaps most noteworthy. This section is welcome in a book on the gospel. Talk of hell is severely lacking in contemporary theology--especially from books appealing to a wider audience. The author does not shy away from the critical teaching on God's wrath and his need to punish sin in light of his justice. The fullness of the gospel message at the cross cannot be rightly understood without grasping the weight of sin. God's love for us in Christ will not shine brightly until we see the horror of his wrath. But when we do, we come to a clearer understanding that Christ laid down his life to propitiate and expiate our sins. He satisfied the wrath of God in our stead.

Having now accomplished salvation, Christ demands a response. But we ought to understand this response correctly lest we compromise the nature of the gospel. The author understands rightly that the only acceptable response to the gospel is a heart of faith (p. 68), but he warns of the things that Christians can mistake for proper or necessary responses to the gospel. For instance, Christians can quickly forget that the gospel can harden hearts. Not all people will respond to it, and many will receive greater judgment for hearing it. The author draws out this point in his own way: "I'm just saying that I guarantee you there's some old dude in some town that most of us have never heard of faithfully preaching to nine people every week..." I could not help but feel him describing several faithful Reformed churches in my area! Despite the slightly flippant remark, the author is placing due emphasis on the power of the gospel to transform precisely because it is the Spirit who works in and through the message. The call is to proclaim the word faithfully, not change hearts. It is the Lord's prerogative to save.

The Gospel in the Air

In the next major part, "The Gospel in the Air," the author walks through the fourfold state of man: creation, fall, redemption (reconciliation), and consummation. I was encouraged to see consummation treated, since it is often forgotten. We cannot speak about the gospel without first speaking about God's plan in creation. This leads into a discussion of different views on the days of creation, which is important to the gospel, but felt a little out of place inside the scope presented early in the book. Nevertheless, we come to see that, regardless of the variety of orthodox options, God created all things for his own glory.

Behind the author's writing lies an important point; namely, that the gospel, as gospel, is precisely good news because it occurs in the context of the fall. The gospel is necessary because of sin, and Christ must now come to mediate between God and his estranged images. Creation lies under a curse. Life according to this world is vanity, and deep down we ache for real satisfaction. 

But the good news of the gospel is that Christ has come to redeem his people to himself. He has taken the form of a servant, setting aside his divine prerogative to suffer for our sake. All of this he accomplished with a view to the surpassing glory bestowed upon him in his resurrection. Through Christ and Christ alone we now have reconciliation with God. 

The author speaks of eschatology and consummation with more biblical warrant than is usually seen in other popular treatments of the subject. He writes, "The first thing we should see is that the Old Testament views future redemption as a restoration of life in creation" (p. 160). The author even introduces the concept of realized (inaugurated) eschatology: "Jesus inaugurated the kingdom in his first coming, but he hasn't consummated it yet" (p. 161). The author seeks to orient the reader within this biblical context, stressing that, "It is imperative that our gospel take the shape of the Scripture's epic vision of God's redemptive plan. It is imperative that we embrace a gospel that is scaled to the glory of God" (p. 172). The capstone of consummation is the resurrection of our bodies, where God's glory reflects the brightest.

Implications and Applications

After describing his picture of a balanced, explicit gospel, the author addresses several dangers that lurk for those who focus on one aspect at the expense of the other. First, if we stay "on the ground" too long, we can make the gospel an individual thing at the expense of God's grand plan of redemption and consummation. We can rationalize faith such that we forget about the real transformation the Spirit works in our lives. The gospel can become an information transaction rather than true discipleship. Even worse, the gospel can become self-centered when we forget that Christ is at the center. Second, the danger of focusing too much on the "gospel in the air"  is that it tends toward a vapid social gospel, which eventually gives way to syncretism, and then, a gospel void of Christ. We lose the distinctives of Christianity and forget the Church's mission to make disciples of all men baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

Moralism undergirds many of these errors. The author writes, "...unless the gospel is made explicit, unless we clearly articulate that our righteousness is imputed to us by Jesus Christ, that on the cross he absorbed the wrath of God aimed at us and washed us clean--even if we preach biblical words on obeying God--people will believe that Jesus's message is that he has come to condemn the world, not to save it" (p. 208). Furthermore, if the gospel is not made explicit, people may even resort to works righteousness. We must have a proper understanding of God's grace in the gospel. And so we are encouraged to arm ourselves with the "weapons of grace" and to take seriously the biblical teaching that believers are dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus (p. 216). 

Critical Interaction

I appreciate the author's concerns. He has done an admirable job in refocusing on the biblical gospel, and he has done so with redemptive-historical sensitivity. Nonetheless, the book has a number of features worth mentioning to the patrons of this particular site. Early into the book, the author mentions the Westminster Confession of Faith when it should have said the Westminster Shorter Catechism (pp. 34 and 36 in an advance proof). Though the point being made is a good one, this generally innocuous error is one small example of how the book would have been improved by sustained exposure to the Reformed tradition and, particularly, the categories Reformed theologians use when speaking about the gospel. Several books of this stripe have surfaced in recent years, and many struggle to describe aspects of the gospel by creating new categories. It seems more natural to speak about the gospel using categories arising from Scripture. For instance, Scripture often speaks in terms of Christ's once-for-all accomplishment of redemption in history, but at other times refers to the ongoing application of that redemption to individual believers. These are the categories of redemption accomplished and redemption applied, or if you prefer Latin, historia salutis and ordo salutis 

As necessary as these categories are for any thorough treatment of the gospel, this particular book centers on the difference between two theological disciplines. The first part of the book, "The Gospel on the Ground," emphasizes elements of systematic theology, whereas the second part of the book, "The Gospel in the Air," focuses on elements natural to biblical theology. Systematic theology is concerned with looking at divine revelation as a finished product in order to "systematize" or categorize topically subjects such as "justification" or "adoption." Biblical theology, on the other hand, looks at the redemptive-historical contours as God's eternal plan unfolds. As Geerhardus Vos, the father of Reformed biblical theology, wrote, "Biblical Theology deals with revelation as a divine activity, not as the finished product of that activity." [Geerhardus Vos, Biblical Theology (Banner of Truth, 1975), p. 5]. "The Gospel on the Ground" and "The Gospel in the Air" are unnecessarily novel categories that seek to explain the basic features of these traditional disciplines. 

As much as this portion of the book sought to draw out the redemptive-historical contours of the gospel, it is weak on a few points. For example, Mosaic sacrifices were types and symbols that pointed forward to Christ. They did not save, but they mediated the very grace of Christ as believers partook of them by faith (cf. Westminster Confession of Faith, 7.5). This is the wonderful truth of the trans-testamental gospel--that in his death and resurrection, Jesus Christ has become the savior of all God's people. Conceded, the author alluded to the foreshadowing significance of Mosaic sacrifices, but for him, they had no real significance other than as meager pedagogical tools (pp. 67-68).

Nonetheless the book would have profited most from an exaggerated emphasis on the following point regarding historia salutis (redemption accomplished): Christ's death and resurrection became the pattern according to which the Spirit applies redemption. Hence, the gospel is made most "explicit" in the resurrected Christ. It is to him and him alone that we look for salvation, and we ought not focus simply on the fact that he accomplished redemption, but also on him as the archetype of that redemption. It is only with this in mind that we can hear the author's concluding exhortation in its full significance: "May we never assume that people understand this gospel but, instead, let's faithfully live out and faithfully proclaim the explicit gospel with all the energy and compassion our great God and King has graciously given" (p. 222).

NOTE: The reviewer was working with an advance copy of the book still subject to editorial changes. Page numbers may not correspond to the published edition and emendations may have been made in the course of final edits.

Mr. Camden Bucey is the Shelf Life editor for reformation21 and is a PhD student in Systematic Theology at Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia.


]]> http://www.reformation21.org/shelf-life/the-explicit-gospel.php http://www.reformation21.org/shelf-life/the-explicit-gospel.php Shelf Life The Gospel Mon, 16 Apr 2012 21:03:15 -0500 Reconciliation or Bust For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you are Christ's, then you are Abraham's offspring, heirs according to promise. (Galatians 3:27-29)

I remember the first time I flew first class in an airplane. I was around 13 years old. My father and I were traveling to visit our family in Trinidad, and the airline had overbooked the flight. We had reservations, but in order for us to fly together they had to split us up. Since the error was theirs, they upgraded one of our tickets to first class. My father, of course, insisted that I take the first class seat. 

This was a brand new world to me. Every time I turned around the stewardess was asking me if I wanted something to drink, if I wanted something to eat, or if I was comfortable. At first, it felt a little awkward to me. But then I thought, "This is nice! I want to fly like this all the time!" What I didn't realize, of course, is how much more a first class ticket costs. The lesson that experience taught me is that in this life there are different and better levels of privilege in society that one can access depending on how much money and/or resources you have at your disposal. 

That last sentence is hardly newsworthy. We all know that there are walls that separate us in society. It's also not news that those same walls exist in the Church. Yet, the clear message of the three verses quoted above from Galatians is that there is only one class in Christ. The apostle Paul declares that the three primary categories where societal separation is most vividly seen--ethnicity, social status, and gender--are no longer valid reasons for separation when it comes to the Church. In Christ, ethnic, social, and gender distinctions are not obliterated. Rather, what is done away with is the sinful inequality that separates us from one another. My passion in pastoral ministry is to see the local church press towards a life where our differences, diversity, and distinctions are far less important to us than our unity in Christ.

I want to do three things in this article. First, tell you how I got here. How did this passion develop in me? Secondly, what is the theological perspective driving this passion? Lastly, how's it working out? What is taking place in the local context of the church I serve?

How Did I Get Here?

My first experience with the Christian faith was at Hanson Place Central United Methodist Church in Brooklyn, NY. Hanson Place was my father's church until his death, and remains my mother's church to this day. During my late teen years, however, it became clear that my parent's faith had not become my own. I rejected Christianity. And through my college years at City College of NY in Harlem, I came to view Christianity as "the white man's religion." I wanted no part of it. 

The only expression of the Christian faith that had any interest to me was the Black Church experience. This interest was driven by the reality that historically, in America, the Black Church was the single most authoritative force in the Black community. Not only that, but the Black Christian worship experience represented an ongoing connection to the African worship experience. I was in full agreement with Dr. Molefi K. Asante, who asserted that this connection to African religious expression made the Black Church "the most logical institution for the beginning work of instructing the masses concerning African customs, habits, and styles."(1) That's what I wanted to see happen. 

The value in the Black Church was seen in its ability to further the cause of the Afrocentric movement by political and cultural activism and by recognizing that it is the place where the religious aspect of the continuity of the one African Cultural System is vividly seen. I did not view the Black Church as place where souls are saved and set free from the bondage of sin to worship the Lord Jesus Christ. Rather, it was a place where, if it does right, people can be saved and set free from the bondage of Eurocentric thought and oppression. 

So, how does someone go from this view of the Church to pastoring a multi-ethnic church in the PCA? I'm glad you asked! When my wife and I moved our family to Maryland in the mid-nineties, we began attending historic New Bethel Baptist Church in Washington, DC. We attended that church, not because we had any interest in becoming Christians, but because we were invited by family. We'd left all of our friends in NY and figured that it would be a good way to meet some decent people. Of course, if you fool around and start attending Bible studies and worship services you might just meet Someone else. That's precisely what happened. My wife and I became believers.

A very decisive shift in my worldview had taken place. While I could, like Paul, have a burden for my "kinsmen according to the flesh," the biblical vision of the kingdom of God was reconciliation and peace across the breadth of humanity. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but there was a growing discontent with the state of mono-ethnicity in the church given the growing diversity in our communities.(2) My pre-Christian understanding of humanity was that brotherhood was predominantly based on racial identity. The clear message of the gospel is that the brotherhood God creates is based on union with Christ. I saw in the Scriptures not simply a message of reconciliation, but a declaration of immeasurably great power working in the Church for reconciliation, unity and peace (cf. Eph 1:15-4:16). Yet it seemed to me that the church was quite comfortable maintaining our divides. 

Over the next three to four years at New Bethel I began to have a growing sense of call to ministry. At the same time I became exposed to Reformed Theology through the Ligonier Ministries Renewing Your Mind broadcast. I enrolled at the RTS Washington/Baltimore campus and began taking courses in 2000. Although I was taking courses at RTS and developing an understanding of covenant theology, my wife and I weren't looking for a new church. However, I had a desperate need to be mentored in ministry. 

That need was met by Rev. Kevin Smith, an African American pastor/church planter in our area. Kevin had planted Mount Zion Covenant Church (PCA) in Bowie, MD. Our family joined Mount Zion in 2002, and I was now in the PCA. This church was a relatively unique PCA congregation. The congregation was largely a mix of African American families and predominantly Anglo American college students. Needless to say, there was a vast difference between our experience at an over 100 year old Black baptist church and this four year old ethnically diverse church plant.

So, all of these factors--my pre-Christian worldview, conversion at New Bethel, RTS studies, and church life at Mount Zion--formed my passion to pursue multi-ethnic ministry in the local church. 

What Drives this Passion?

The image of God is much too rich for it to be fully realized in a single human being, however richly gifted that human being may be. It can only be somewhat unfolded in its depth and riches in a humanity counting billions of members. Just as the traces of God (vestigia Dei) are spread over many, many works, in both space and time, so also the image of God can only be displayed in all its dimensions and characteristic features in a humanity whose members exist both successively one after the other and contemporaneously side by side...Only humanity in its entirety--as one complete organism, summed up under a single head, spread out over the whole earth, as prophet proclaiming the truth of God, as priest dedicating itself to God, as ruler controlling the earth and the whole of creation--only it is the fully finished image, the most telling and striking likeness of God.(3)

At RTS the Lord began to add theological fuel to my passion. It was there I was exposed to covenant theology. There wasn't any particular emphasis or focus on the implications of the gospel for pursuing diversity in the local church. But when I came across these words by Herman Bavinck they immediately resonated with me as having deep implications for the local church. Much of the gospel message has been reduced to simply having "a personal relationship with God through Jesus Christ." In other words, there is a radically individualistic emphasis on what it means to be a Christian. While no one would argue that the Lord saves individuals and reconciles them to himself, the gospel is so much more than that. It must include the fulness of what it means to be made in the image of God. And Bavinck is right. The finished image, the most telling and striking likeness of God is the entirety of redeemed humanity. 

Let me focus on a few texts from Genesis to make my point. The first words about humanity in the Bible come from the lips of God, 
Then God said, "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth." So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. (Genesis 1:26-27)
Covenant community is created. Male and female are covenantally bound to the Lord and to each other. Humanity's beginning was in covenantal community. This is as much an aspect of what it means for us to be made in the image of God as is our being rational, thinking, feeling beings created "in the virtues of knowledge, righteousness, and holiness."(4) The Father, Son and Spirit, who eternally exist in the perfection of covenant community, images himself in the creation of humanity in covenant community. 

So, what happens when sin enters the world? Just what we would expect. The marring of the image includes the fracture of covenantal relationships. This extends far beyond marital problems between husband and wife (Gen. 3:16). It includes fratricide (Gen. 4:8) and extends to the decline of humanity into corruption and violence (Gen. 6:11).  

Even when there is unity among humanity after the fall, it is unity in our rebellion and rejection of our covenantal Lord's commands. We're told in Genesis 11 that there was a time in human history when everyone had the same language and spoke the same words. Humanity was in solidarity. Moses tells us that everyone could speak and understand each other. Everyone is unified in Genesis 11, but it's in their rejection of God's command. They're on the same page in their rebellion against what God has explicitly commanded them to do. After the Flood narrative in Genesis 6-9, God once again commands humanity to be fruitful and multiply, to fill the earth (9:1). Yet, what do we find humanity doing? In direct and conscious rebellion they determine, "we don't want to fill the earth, we want to settle down right here." There is no serpent in Shinar tempting humanity to disobey God's word. An external tempter isn't necessary. Humanity is one big happy family against the Lord. 

The word that fell at Babel in Genesis 11:7 included judgment and mercy. Our language was confused so that we could not understand one another, and we were forced to fill the earth. The willful rebellion of humanity against God's explicit command resulted in the use of all our faculties united for an impossible goal. We were joined together to establish ourselves as God, with all authority and power. God mercifully moved to restrain our sin by confusing our language. 

Yet, there was still the issue of the confusion of our language. We now had the creation of "ghetto living." From Babel onward, we are still in solidarity against God. And now, just as then, this solidarity is expressed in isolated communities. These ghettos, because they are in rebellion against God, also naturally rage against each other. So, far too often, what unfolds is that we tie our human dignity and value to our isolated communities. And we love our ghettos: our ethnic ghettos, our social ghettos, our cultural ghettos, our economic ghettos, our academic ghettos, etc. And we love them to a fault. When we see cultural and ethnic differences we don't embrace our dissimilarity, we immediately distrust. We instinctively reject and often mock because we're still confused and don't understand each other.

When Christ came, he proclaimed far more than individual salvation. He proclaimed the coming of the kingdom. Integral to that is the restoration and renewal of community; the reversal of Babel. Jesus said that his Father assigned to him a kingdom, and he assigns this kingdom to his apostles (Luke 22:28-29). This is, of course, covenantal language. After his resurrection, our Lord spent forty days speaking to his disciples about the kingdom of God (Acts 1:3). When the Spirit came and filled the disciples for kingdom proclamation and work, the first thing we see is them declaring the mighty works of God. Men from what Luke calls every nation under heaven--Parthians and Medes and Elamites and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabians--were able to hear, understand and respond to the message (Acts 2:5ff). The work of bringing people from every tribe, tongue, people and nation under the banner of the Lamb of God had begun. 

That is the work God continues to do today. It is work that will not be complete until the consummation of the kingdom. The day is coming when the redeemed fully reflect the image of our Creator as one family, summed up under our single head, Jesus Christ, "spread out over the whole earth, as prophet proclaiming the truth of God, as priest dedicating itself to God, as ruler controlling the earth and the whole of creation." This is the biblical, covenantal vision that fuels my passion for ministry in the local church. I would summarize it this way: the ministry of reconciliation as demonstrated in the local church by the gathering of people from diverse backgrounds, ethnicities and cultures is the natural outworking of a rich covenantal theological commitment. 

How's It Working Out?

"At 11:00 on Sunday morning when we stand and sing and Christ has no east or west, we stand at the most segregated hour in this nation. This is tragic."  These words were spoken by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

So now we get to the question, "How's it going?" It's relatively easy to make statements about the implications of covenant theology, but what does it look like in practice? 

The church I serve is City of Hope in Columbia, MD. Columbia is a suburban community in Howard County, MD, founded 45 years ago. It is located mid-way between the City of Baltimore and Washington, DC. The vision for Columbia was to create a city that was diverse in every way. Columbia's founder, James Rouse, in explaining his vision for a complete city stated, 
"Columbia will be economically diverse, polycultural [sic], multi-faith, and inter-racial."(5)

This vision has been attained. "Columbia has achieved economic, racial, ethnic, and religious diversity." Yet, by and large, the quote above from Dr. King is true among most of the churches in our community. Thus, when I'm asked how things are going, I'll give this tongue-in-cheek answer, "It's going." If I were not convinced that God's vision for his Church as he builds his kingdom is to gather people together from diverse backgrounds, cultures and ethnicities into the the local church, I would be quite satisfied to stay in my cultural comfort zone. The ministry of reconciliation is hard. Everyone comes with preferences. If you intentionally pursue ministry in such a way that the makeup of the local church reflects its community, you are forced to deal with the issues that relate to power dynamics. We rarely think of the issues in that way, but discussions about liturgy, worship music, Bible Study groups, preaching style, service length, etc. (and there are more) all relate in some way to the question of power.  

What we have learned is that the answer to the question of power is not, "who wins, or who loses" but it is, "who dies." In this difficult pursuit we get the privilege of asking the question, "Is this thing that's offending me a kingdom issue, or is it simply a preference that the Lord would have me die to for the sake of unity in the body?" I don't want to die to my preferences, and some would say that I shouldn't have to. Yet, the practice of Christian liberty calls me to be ready and willing to do just that. 

In the first five years of City of Hope, I have seen the Lord take us through the controversies and challenges of pursuing multi-ethnic ministry. One way we've seen this happen is in the development of our music ministry. When the church began, we hired an African American trio of gospel musicians two Sundays/month to be very intentional about having a Black gospel sound regularly. We had to deal with the question of whether or not we should be hiring outside musicians for worship. Even though having musical diversity was and is a high value, that did not prevent the topic of paying such a high price to bring in people who were not committed to our church. Staying the course turned out to be a blessing because the value and pursuit of diversity in our worship music has become an integral part of our identity. Our own musicians developed with this value. With those early conversations now in the distant past, our music team leaders organized a Christmas Chorale for the 2011 Advent season. What a blessing it was to be led in song through Negro Spirituals, traditional hymns, and Contemporary Christian Music. That Chorale was a microcosm of our current dynamic. If you worship with us you'll find that the musical genre changes from week to week, and even within the service. And we're just fine with that. 

Our most difficult challenge to date struck at the core of our ministry vision. We planted the church with an ethnically diverse pastoral team. For both financial and functional reasons it didn't work out. We had to wrestle with whether or not a multi-ethnic pastoral team was essential to the ministry vision or a "nice to have, but...." The dissolution of the pastoral team was hard. Did I say it was hard?  Some of the dear people who began with us left the church, and we had to go through a period of recovery and healing.   

That recovery has taken place, and in a recent gathering with a handful of brothers from City of Hope I decided to pose the, "How's it going," question to them. I told them I was writing this article and wanted their input on how this vision for a diverse church that reflects the community is working out for them. "What has the experience been like?," I asked. This was an impromptu dialogue; I hadn't intended to ask this question. But the conversation was outstanding, and too long for me to include in its entirety. Here are some of the things they shared.

Here are some of the responses at length to give you a flavor of a multiethnic discussion on these issues: 
Because the gospel shows me my sin... it allows me also to look at my culture and some of the things that are wrong with my culture, helping me to be unafraid to point it out or try to safeguard it. It also shows me how my view of my own culture can be sinful at times. It shows me how God has created my culture and has created my heritage, and how I can look at my heritage and be proud of it. But, the gospel also teaches me how God has created every other culture and every other heritage as he willed. So even when a culture expresses itself in different music that I'm not too familiar with, I can see how even recent things I have made a part of my culture, and a part of who I am - I should be able to give away these things away. Because I'm not there just to serve myself in worship. There are other people who are also worshipping. So, it just kind of a giving up of myself in the context of community. That's part of worship because you're not just doing it for yourself. You're doing it out of gratitude for what God has done for you in community."

"I love our church. It's probably the only church I've ever felt at home in; probably because I'm by nature multiethnic... But at the same time I think there is an easy tendency to fall into passivity when it comes to recognizing your own culture and the culture of the church just as a member of the congregation...For me, the process of coming to an awareness of my own culture and its benefits and its sinfulness, and the necessity of me as a Christian to be willing to step outside of that and learn that my understanding of God is limited because I can't grasp his image in other cultures, that was a painful process. Because it was like pulling teeth and pulling paradigms out that I didn't want to let go of."

"City of Hope for me is wonderful because I believe that when the Word is rightly preached, God is going to bring in people from every tribe and tongue and nation as long as they hear that word. So, for me, the big issue is, what is the guy in the pulpit saying. Not only what he's saying, but how is he saying it. Because you can even say things in a way that alienates other cultures. I found that in my African American homogeneity that I grew up in...So I see these tiers just building and expanding. For me [these] two are critical. The gospel has to be right on point, preached to all men. Then, secondarily, we must make sure that we know that there should not be fractures in our community because of our dietary preferences or cultural distinctions or things like that. That's what I like about City of Hope. I see those things playing out. And right now I'm not so keyed into trying to build this multicultural community through some means that somebody's thinking about. What I'm mainly focused on is that the Word coming out and, that in our dealings with each other in our body, we are making sure that we are not putting up walls to fellowship or growth. So that's what I love about City of Hope."

"When we engage others in the community my culture, my family's culture begins to change and reflect those others in my community. It begins to take on aspects of Black community. It begins to take on aspects of Latino community. Because we're doing life together. So, I change. My culture transforms. It's not just a bunch of different people coming together and going back and being our own different people. It's us coming together and being changed by one another fundamentally. And that's how our understanding of the image of God changes. As we change by reflecting what God has wrought in the cultural dynamic of the people we live alongside. That can't happen in a homogeneous community."  

The combination of the specific challenges I mentioned earlier (music and staff) along with the normal "mess" of ministry (shepherding people through loneliness, marital issues, parenting, health crises, etc.) makes this an intense pursuit. At the same time, hearing from these brothers enabled me to get out of the trees and see the forest. Not everyone who comes through our doors on a Sunday morning gets excited and encouraged by our ministry vision. Yet, we rejoice because the Lord is painting a beautiful picture at City of Hope. His Spirit is at work confirming the vision by actually bringing it to pass! 

I am humbled by the love, hospitality, accountability and fellowship that have become defining characteristics of the church. We know that we will never "arrive" until glory. Ministry will always be messy. But just like we don't wait until glory to pursue righteousness and holiness, to put to death that which is earthly in us, we ought not be content to wait until glory to see the nations gathered together under the banner of Christ pursuing the unity of the Spirit and the bond of peace.

Rev. Irwyn Ince is the pastor of City of Hope Church (PCA) in Columbia, Maryland. He is a graduate of Reformed Theological Seminary.


Notes       
1. Asante, Molefi K., Afrocentricity (Africa World Press, Inc., Trenton, NJ, 1988), pp.74-75

2. I don't intend to make an oversimplification here. I realize that there are valid historic, indeed God ordained, reasons for the racial state of the American church.

3. Bavinck, H., Bolt, J., & Vriend, J. (2004). Reformed Dogmatics, Volume 2: God and Creation 577.Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic.

4 Bavinck, H., Bolt, J., & Vriend, J. (2004). Reformed Dogmatics, Volume 2: God and Creation 557. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic.

5 Columbia Archives, "History of Columbia: A Story of a Planned Community," http://www.columbiaarchives.org/?action=content.sub&page=history_community3&oid=1

]]> http://www.reformation21.org/articles/reconciliation-or-bust.php http://www.reformation21.org/articles/reconciliation-or-bust.php Articles Featured multiethnic ministry reconciliation Mon, 16 Apr 2012 20:12:50 -0500 The Vatican Files no. 11 A Vatican Exhibition on the History of the Bible, with Some Blind Spots 

If you visit St. Peter's square before the 15th of April, an unexpected and interesting attraction will be waiting for you. In the Braccio di Carlo Magno (i.e. Charlemagne wing) next to St. Peter's basilica under Bernini's colonnade on the right-hand side of the square, an exhibition entitled "Verbum Domini" (i.e. the Word of the Lord) will call for your attention. The colorful Italian-English brochure that will be put in your hands invites you to "Take a walk through the history of the Bible in this private collection of rare biblical texts and objects of enormous importance". Admission is free.

Verbum Domini is also the title of the 2010 Post-Synodical Apostolic Exhortation by Benedict XVI in which the Pope summarized the present-day Roman Catholic interpretation of the Word of God, i.e. a living Tradition which includes the Bible and which the Magisterium of the Church interprets faithfully. The connection between the papal text and the exhibition is clear and signals the intent to underline the importance of this topic.

A Fascinating Exhibition

The exhibit was put together from private collections from around the world, mainly from the Green Collection - the largest private collection in the world of rare biblical texts and documents. Displayed in 8 galleries, 152 rare biblical texts and artifacts showcase the history of the Bible: from ancient scrolls to copied texts to printed volumes of the XVII century; from Hebrew to Greek to Latin and other vernacular languages; from Qumran to Europe to the rest of the world. 

Here are some of the highlights of the exhibition:
- Codex Climaci Rescriptus - one of the earliest-surviving, near-complete Bibles containing the most extensive early biblical texts in Jesus' household language of Palestinian Aramaic. 
- Scrolls
- The Jeselsohn Stone or Gabriel's revelation - a three foot tall, 150 pound sandstone tablet discovered near the Dead Sea in Jordan containing 87 lines of first century BCE Hebrew text.
- The Gutenberg Bible Book of Romans, the first book printed in the West with moveable typeset printing.
- Complutensian Polyglot - the first multilingual edition of the entire Bible.

In the first gallery, there are also two half-burnt scrolls of the Torah that escaped from total destruction attempted by the Nazis and Stalinists. They are a moving testimony to the on-going battle that surrounds the Bible. 

The Inter-faith and Ecumenical Intentions

The exhibition has an ambitious goal. In the organizers' words, "the Verbum Domini, specifically, is a way of celebrating the interfaith love that many traditions have for the Bible, and we believe that is a way of sharing that with the world".  Jewish, Eastern Orthodox, Catholic, and Protestant traditions are all represented in it. From the Vatican side, here is what Cardinal Farina, Prefect of the Vatican Library, said about the exhibition at the inauguration: "The title Verbum Domini was chosen to highlight the ecumenical conception of this exhibition, and also its venue here at the Vatican. The origin of the documents, the prevalence of the Green Collection, and those from other collections highlight the participation of the Christian denominations. Because in reality the Bible unites, even though so many think it does the opposite, it's actually a very strong point of union". 

Fair enough. But why is it that, on the brochure that is distributed at the entrance, one reads that "this exhibit celebrates the dramatic story of the Catholic contribution to the most-banned, most-debated, best-selling book of all time"? Has the broad contribution to the history of the Bible become a Catholic contribution alone? Perhaps this is a mistake made by a zealous editor, but it reflects the provincial culture that each institution (Vatican included) can fall prey to.

The Missing Story

The most puzzling point, however, is what the exhibition does not say about the history of the Bible. The unsaid is as telling as what is said. The whole trajectory of the suggested narrative is "linear" to the point of being historically untenable. The given picture is that the "modern" translations of the Bible in vernacular languages spread out across the Christian spectrum and that each sector of the Christian church championed their diffusion. 

The reality is very different.  Since the twelfth century, the Roman Church has, in various ways, banned the circulation of Bibles in the language of the people. These bans led to the compilation of the 1559 Index of Librorum Prohibitorum (Index of Prohibited Books) by Pope Paul IV, where Bible translations were among the forbidden books. The vehement attack by the Tridentine Church towards the translations of the Bible allowed historian Gigliola Fragnito to speak of "the Bible on a stake" to describe what happened up to the twelfth century in countries dominated by the Catholic Church. (1) That ban lasted for centuries. The true story, therefore, is not the mild, peaceful, ecumenical account of the Verbum Domini exhibition.  

The Bible is a shared heritage for Christians and this truth is beyond dispute. Therefore historical exhibitions on the Bible should aim at telling the story in a fair and accurate way rather than pursuing wishful ecumenical readings which are partial, selective, and therefore misguiding. 



Notes
1. Gigliola Fragnito, La Bibbia al rogo. La censura ecclesiastica e i volgarizzamenti della Scrittura, 1471-1605 (Bologna: il Mulino, 1997). More recently the same scholar edited the volume Church, Censorship and Culture in Early Modern Italy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001).


]]> http://www.reformation21.org/articles/the-vatican-files-no-11.php http://www.reformation21.org/articles/the-vatican-files-no-11.php Articles Featured Roman Catholicism Mon, 09 Apr 2012 14:22:35 -0500 Good Friday: Christ our Great High Priest In 1941 Winston Churchill stood before an eager audience at an all-boys school in war-torn England and spoke these famous words, "Never give in. Never give in. Never, never, never, never--in nothing, great or small, large or petty--never give in." (1) Churchill's words echo the thrust of the message of the writer to the Hebrews. But where Churchill rested his comments on the "honor and good sense" of his audience, the writer to the Hebrews urges confidence in the high priestly work of Jesus Christ. 

The recipients of Hebrews were in danger of abandoning Christ through unbelief. Pressured by persecution, assaulted by sin and challenged by everyday life, these believers were on the brink of quitting in the heat of battle. With such dangers clearly in view the author chooses one primary theme on which to focus; the priesthood of Christ. The word "priest" occurs over seventy times in the New Testament. More than one third of these occurrences are in Hebrews. 

Christ's priesthood demands believer's attention on a continual basis. When we fear that God is still angry toward us we need to remember that Christ has propitiated the wrath of God. When we doubt that God could ever look on us with favor we need to recall that Christ stood as our replacement. The love the Father shows to him he now shows to us. When we take for granted that Christ suffered for us we need to reflect on his innocence. He always does the will of God for us with precise obedience. 

The priesthood of Christ is eminently practical but if we can't remember what his priesthood means we will not use it as we must. It has been well said that "the association of ideas is the controlling law of memory."(2) If we could associate six key ideas of Christ's priesthood with the letters P-R-I-E-S-T perhaps we would more readily recall his work and be better steeled to "never give in." 
   
A Propitiating High Priest
In very simple terms propitiation means to regain favor. The word, which is used in several key New Testament verses (Rom. 3:25, Heb. 2:17, 1 John 2:2; 4:10), reflects an Old Testament word describing the cover of the ark of the covenant in the Holy of Holies, which was sprinkled with the blood of the sacrifice on the annual day of atonement. This rite signified that the life of the people, the loss of which they had merited by their sins, was offered to God in the blood as the life of the victim, and that God by this ceremony was appeased and their sins covered." (3)  
The Belgic Confession of Faith (Art. 21) says that "Christ presented himself...before the Father, to appease His wrath..." By experiencing the terrible punishment which our sins had merited Christ saves his people from the otherwise certain judgment of God's wrath (1 Thess. 1:10, Rom. 5:8-9). The reason that Christ staggered in the Garden as he considered the cup which the Father had called him to drink was because he knew that the judgment for all the sins of all God's children swirled in that cup. And he drank it all! Christ was forsaken of God (Matt. 27:46; Psalm 22:1) that we might be accepted of God, and never more be forsaken. The concept of propitiation is closely related to that of substitution.

A Replacing High Priest 

The Bible says that Christ "presented himself in our behalf before the Father, to appease His wrath by His full satisfaction, offering Himself on the tree of the cross, and pouring out His precious blood to purge away our sins."(4)

Isaiah 53 (Cf. 1 Peter 2:24) is a remarkable testimony to Christ's work as substitute. He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows (v. 4). He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon him and by his stripes we are healed (v. 5). The Lord laid on Him the iniquity of us all (v. 6). For the transgressions of God's people he was stricken (v. 8). He shall bear their iniquities (v. 11). He bore the sins of many, and made intercession for the transgressors (v. 12).  Reflecting on Christ's death Philip Bliss wrote: "Bearing sin and scoffing rude, in my place condemned he stood, sealed my pardon with his blood. Hallelujah! What a Savior!"  The impact of the principle of substitution, or replacing, is amplified when we consider Jesus' innocence.
   
An Innocent High Priest

The Gospels deliberately highlight Jesus's innocence, particularly in the hours preceding his death. The Sanhedrin struggled to find enough false witnesses to agree on a charge (Matt. 26:60). When the crowd demanded Jesus' crucifixion Pilate asked, "Why, what evil has He done?" (Matt. 27:23). In the span of nine verses, John three times records Pilate saying, "I find no fault in him" (John 18:38-9:6). "While [Pilate] was sitting on the judgment seat, his wife sent to him, saying, "Have nothing to do with that just Man..." (Matt. 27:19). The centurion who helped put Jesus to death confirmed the innocence of Christ when he said, "Truly this Man was the Son of God!" (Mark 15:39). The earth itself testified to Jesus' innocence when it split open in revolt at his unjust death (Matt. 27:51). 

The propitiatory and substitutionary nature of the atonement would mean nothing if Christ wasn't perfectly innocent. "For Christ also suffered once for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh but made alive by the Spirit" (1 Peter 3:18). 

David illustrates Christ's innocent substitution when he said "Though I have stolen nothing, I still must restore it" (Psa. 69:4). The punishment Christ received felt heavier since there was no guilt in him.
   
An Exceptional High Priest

One of the main arguments in the book of Hebrews is that Jesus is superior to the ordinary priests who served in the tabernacle and later in the temple (Cf. Heb. 5-7). The Bible says that there are two orders or kinds of priests. By far the most common were the Levitical or Aaronic. But there is another order of priest. Christ is a high priest after the order of Melchizedek (Psa. 110:4; Cf. Gen. 14:18-24). Descended as he is from the tribe of Judah, from the kingly line of David, Christ is the exception to the priestly rule.

The Melchizedekian priesthood is superior to the priesthood of Levi (Heb. 7:10). Christ alone is our eternal, sinless, oath-bound priest who actually sat down at God's right hand having "by Himself purged our sins" (Heb. 1:3). The futility of the labors of the Aaronic priesthood does not apply to Christ. Since it is impossible for God to lie, by his oath we are assured that the foundations of salvation are eternal and immovable. 
   
A Suffering High Priest

Christ's whole life, in body and soul, was a life of suffering. As he approached the cross the weight of his suffering increased. In the Garden, "...being in agony, He prayed more earnestly. Then His sweat became like great drops of blood falling to the ground" (Luke 22:44). The descriptions of Christ's physical suffering on the cross are palpable. "My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and My tongue clings to My jaws; You have brought Me to the dust of death" (Psa. 22:15).

Christ's spiritual suffering is intangible and defies comprehension. On the cross he humbled himself unto the very deepest reproach and anguish of hell. Because of his suffering, no matter what befalls us we can never say, "Christ cannot understand" (Heb. 2:17-18). Christ became our sympathetic high priest through suffering (Heb. 5:8). 

A Total High Priest

Christ's priestly work completely answers our problem of sin. For this reason Paul would know nothing save Jesus Christ and him crucified (1 Cor. 2:2). It is not necessary to seek any other means of being reconciled to God than his only sacrifice. Knowledge of Christ crucified far surpasses everything else (Phil. 3:8). In Christ's wounds we find all manner of consolation for the present and for the future. Christ's death has perfected forever them that are sanctified.

Use this acronym to remember Christ's work as priest. As a propitiating priest, Christ has done away with God's wrath toward believing sinners. As a replacing priest, Christ has stood condemned in our place, sealing our pardon with his blood. As an innocent priest Christ has answered for us God's demand for perfection. As an exceptional priest, there is no other like him; there is no one else to whom we must look for healing. As a suffering Priest, Christ suffered the pain and anguish of hell so that we don't have to. As a total Priest, when Christ said, "It is finished," he meant it (John 19:30). He secured for us total salvation. 

Christ's priesthood teaches us that we have no other way of dealing with our moral failure and the penalty thereby incurred than to come to God and say, "Nothing in my hand I bring, simply to thy cross I cling." 

Rev. William Boekestein is the pastor of Covenant Reformed Church (URCNA) in Carbondale, PA.

Notes
1. Accessed on March 28, 2012 from http://www.winstonchurchill.org/learn/speeches/speeches-of-winston-churchill/103-never-give-in
2. Charles Erdman, Remember Jesus Christ (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1958), 9.
3. Strongs Concordance
4, Belgic Confession, Article 21

]]> http://www.reformation21.org/articles/good-friday-christ-our-great-high-priest.php http://www.reformation21.org/articles/good-friday-christ-our-great-high-priest.php Articles Featured Easter Good Friday Fri, 06 Apr 2012 14:15:11 -0500 Pay No Attention to That Man Behind the Curtain! Roman Catholic History and the Emerald City Protocol In the field of Reformation studies, Professor Brad Gregory is somebody for whom I have immense respect.  Those outside the discipline of history are possibly unaware of the ravages which postmodernism brought in its wake, making all narratives negotiable and fuelling a rise in interest in all manner of trivia and marginal weirdness.  Dr. Gregory is trained in both philosophy and history and has done much to place the self-understanding of human agents back at the centre of historical analysis.  Thus, for those of us interested in the Reformation, he has also played an important role in placing religion back into the discussion.  For that, I and many others owe him a great debt of gratitude.

I therefore find myself in the odd and uncomfortable position of writing a very critical review of his latest book, The Unintended Reformation (Belknap Harvard, 2011). The book itself is undoubtedly well-written and deeply learned, with nearly a third of the text devoted to endnotes.  It is brilliant in its scope and execution, addressing issues of philosophy, politics and economics.  Anyone wanting a panoramic view of the individuals, the institutions and the forces which shaped early modern Europe should read this work. Yet for all of its brilliance, the book does not demonstrate its central thesis, that Protestantism must shoulder most of the responsibility for the various things which Dr. Gregory dislikes about modern Western society, from its exaltation of the scientific paradigm to its consumerism to its secular view of knowledge and even to global warming. I am sympathetic with many of Dr. Gregory's gripes about the world of today; but in naming Protestantism as the primary culprit he engages in a rather arbitrary blame game.

Dr. Gregory's book contains arguments about both metaphysics and what we might call empirical social realities. On the grounds that debates about metaphysics, like games of chess, can be great fun for the participants but less than thrilling for the spectators, I will post my thoughts on that aspect of the book in a separate blog entry. In this article, I will focus on the Papacy, persecution and the role of the printing press.  This piece is more of a medieval jousting tournament than a chess game and will, I trust, provide the audience with better spectator sport.

One final preliminary comment: I am confident that my previous writings on Roman Catholicism and Roman Catholics indicate that I am no reincarnation of a nineteenth century 'No popery!' rabble-rouser. I have always tried to write with respect and forbearance on such matters, to the extent that I have even been berated at times by other, hotter sorts of Protestants for being too pacific. In what follows, however, I am deliberately combative.  This is not because I wish to show disrespect to Dr. Gregory or to his Church or to his beliefs; but he has set the tone by writing a very combative book. I like that. I like writers who believe and care about the big questions of life. But here is the rub: those who write in such a way must allow those who respond to them to believe with equal passion in their chosen cause and to care about it deeply and thus to be equally combative in their rejoinders.

A key part of the book's argument is the apparent anarchy created by the Protestant emphasis on the perspicuity of scripture. In this, Dr. Gregory stands with his Notre Dame colleague, Christian Smith, as seeing this as perhaps the single weakest point of Protestantism. He also rejects any attempt to restrict Protestantism to the major confessional traditions (Reformed, Anglican and Lutheran) as he argues that such a restriction would create an artificial delimitation of Protestant diversity. Instead, he insists on also including those groups which scholars typically call radical reformers (essentially all other non-Roman Christian sects which have their origins in the turn to scripture of the Reformation). This creates a very diverse and indeed chaotic picture of Protestantism such that no unifying doctrinal synthesis is possible as a means of categorizing the whole.  

I wonder if I am alone in finding the more stridently confident comments of some Roman Catholics over the issue of perspicuity to be somewhat tiresome and rather overblown. Perspicuity was, after all, a response to a position that had proved to be a failure: the Papacy.  Thus, to criticize it while proposing nothing better than a return to that which had proved so inadequate is scarcely a compelling argument.

Yes, it is true that Protestant interpretive diversity is an empirical fact; but when it comes to selectivity in historical reading as a means of creating a false impression of stability, Roman Catholic approaches to the Papacy provide some excellent examples of such fallacious method.  The ability to ignore or simply dismiss as irrelevant the empirical facts of papal history is quite an impressive feat of historical and theological selectivity. Thus, as all sides need to face empirical facts and the challenges they raise, here are a few we might want to consider, along with what seem to me (as a Protestant outsider) to be the usual Roman Catholic responses:

Empirical fact: The Papacy as an authoritative institution was not there in the early centuries. 
Never mind.  Put together a doctrine of development whereby Christians - or at least some of them, those of whom we choose to approve in retrospect on the grounds we agree with what they say  - eventually come to see the Pope as uniquely authoritative.  

Empirical fact: The Papacy was corrupt in the later Middle Ages, building its power and status on political antics, forged documents and other similar scams. 
Ignore it, excuse it as a momentary aberration and perhaps, if pressed, even offer a quick apology. Then move swiftly on to assure everyone it is all sorted out now and start talking about John Paul II or Benedict XVI.  Whatever you do, there is no need to allow this fact to have any significance for how one understands the theory of papal power in the abstract or in the present.  

Empirical fact: The Papacy was in such a mess at the beginning of the fifteenth century that it needed a council to decide who of the multiple claimants to Peter's seat was the legitimate pope.  
Again, this was merely a momentary aberration but it has no significance for the understanding of papal authority.  After all, it was so long ago and so far away.

Empirical fact: The church failed (once again) to put its administrative, pastoral, moral and doctrinal house in order at the Fifth Lateran Council at the start of the sixteenth century.  
Forget it.  Emphasise instead the vibrant piety of the late medieval church and then blame the ungodly Protestants for their inexplicable protests and thus for the collapse of the medieval social, political and theological structure of Europe.  

Perhaps it is somewhat aggressive to pose these points in such a blunt form. Again, I intend no disrespect but am simply responding with the same forthrightness with which certain writers speak of Protestantism. The problem here is that the context for the Reformation - the failure of the papal system to reform itself, a failure in itself lethal to notions of papal power and authority - seems to have been forgotten in all of the recent aggressive attacks on scriptural perspicuity.  These are all empirical facts and they are all routinely excused, dismissed or simply ignored by Roman Catholic writers. Perspicuity was not the original problem; it was intended as the answer.   One can believe it to be an incorrect, incoherent, inadequate answer; but then one must come up with something better - not simply act as if shouting the original problem louder will make everything all right. Such an approach to history and theology is what I call the Emerald City protocol: when defending the great and powerful Oz, one must simply pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.  

Given the above empirical facts, the medieval Papacy surely has chronological priority over any of the alleged shortcomings of scriptural perspicuity in the history of abject ecclesiastical and theological disasters. To be fair, Dr. Gregory does acknowledge that 'medieval Christendom' was a failure (p. 365) but in choosing such a term he sidesteps the significance of the events of the late medieval period for papal authority. The failure of medieval Christendom was the failure of the Papacy. To say medieval Christendom failed but then to allow such a statement no real ecclesiastical significance is merely an act of throat-clearing before going after the people, the Protestants, who frankly are in the crosshairs simply because it appears one finds them and their sects distasteful. Again, to be fair, one cannot blame Roman Catholics for disliking Protestants: our very existence bears testimony to Roman Catholicism's failure. But that Roman Catholics who know their history apparently believe the Papacy now works just fine seems as arbitrary and selective a theological and historical move as any confessionally driven restriction of what is and is not legitimate Protestantism.  

As Dr. Gregory brings his narrative up to the present, I will do the same. There are things which can be conveniently ignored by North American Roman Catholic intellectuals because they take place in distant lands. Yet many of these are emblematic of contemporary Roman Catholicism in the wider world. Such, for example, are the bits of the real cross and vials of Jesus' blood which continue to be displayed in certain churches, the cult of Padre Pio and the relics of Anthony of Padua and the like (both of whom edged out Jesus and the Virgin Mary in a poll as to who was the most prayed to figure in Italian Catholicism). We Protestants may appear hopelessly confused to the latest generation of North American Roman Catholic polemicists, but at least my own little group of Presbyterian schismatics does not promote the veneration of mountebank stigmatics or the virtues of snake-oil.

Still, for the sake of argument let us accept the fideistic notion that the events of the later Middle Ages do not shatter the theology underlying the Papacy.  What therefore of Roman Catholic theological unity and papal authority today? That is not too rosy either, I am afraid.  The Roman Catholic Church's teaching on birth control is routinely ignored by vast swathes of the laity with absolute impunity; Roman Catholic politicians have been in the vanguard of liberalizing abortion laws and yet still been welcome at Mass and at high table with church dignitaries; leading theologians cannot agree on exactly what papal infallibility means; and there is not even consensus on the meaning and significance of Vatican II relative to previous church teaching. Such a Church is as chaotic and anarchic as anything Protestantism has thrown up. 

Further, if Dr. Gregory wants to include as part of his general concept of Protestantism any and all sixteenth century lunatics who ever claimed the Bible alone as sole authority and thence to draw conclusions about the plausibility of the perspicuity of scripture, then it seems reasonable to insist in response that discussions of Roman Catholicism include not simply the Newmans, Ratzingers and Wotjylas but also the Kungs, Rahners, Schillebeeckxs and the journalists at the National Catholic Reporter.  And why stop there?  We should also throw in the sedevacantists and Lefebvrists for good measure.  They all claim to be good Roman Catholics and find their unity around the Office of the Pope, after all. Let us not exclude them on the dubious grounds that they do not support our own preconceived conclusions of how papal authority should work.  At least Protestantism has the integrity to wear its chaotic divisions on its sleeve.

Moving on from the issue of authority, we find that Dr. Gregory also argues that religious persecution is a poisonous result of the confessionalisation of Europe into warring religious factions. Certainly, the bloodshed along confessional lines in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was terrible, but doctrinal disagreements did not begin with the Reformation. The New Testament makes it clear that serious doctrinal conflict existed within the church even during apostolic times (I hope I am allowed, for the sake of argument, to assume that the New Testament is perspicuous enough for me to state that with a degree of confidence); and the link between church and state which provided the context for bloodshed over matters of theological deviancy was established from at least the time of Priscillian in the late fourth century. It was hardly a Protestant or even a Reformation innovation.

When it comes to the empirical facts of Catholic persecution, Dr. Gregory only mentions the Inquisition twice. That is remarkably light coverage given its rather stellar track record in all that embarrassing auto da fe business. Moreover, he mentions it first only in a Reformation/post-Reformation context. Yet Roman Catholic persecution of those considered deviants was not simply or even primarily a response to Reformation Protestantism but a well-established pattern in the Middle Ages. No doubt the Spanish Jews and Muslims, the Cathars, the Albigensians, the Lollards, the Hussites and many other religious deviants living before the establishment of any Protestant state might have wished that their sufferings had received a more substantial role in the narrative and more significance in the general thesis. Sure, Protestantism broke the Roman Catholic monopoly on persecution and thus played a shameful and ignominious part in its escalation; but it did not establish the precedents, legally, culturally or practically.

Finally, the great lacuna in this book is the printing press. Dr. Gregory has, as I noted above, done brilliant work in putting self-understanding back on the historical agenda and thus of grounding the history of ideas in historical realities rather than metaphysical abstractions. The danger with this, however, is that material factors can come to be somewhat neglected. His thesis - that Protestantism shattered the unified nature and coherence of knowledge and paved the way for its secularization - does not take into account the impact of the easy availability of print. The printed book changed everything: it fuelled literacy rates and it expanded the potential for diversity of opinion. I suspect there is a very plausible alternative, or at least supplementary, narrative to the 'Protestantism shattered the unified nature and coherence of knowledge' thesis: the printing press did it because it made impossible the Church's control of the nature, range, flow and availability of knowledge.

Ironically, the printing press is one of the great success stories of pre-Reformation Catholic Europe. One might argue that it was a technological innovation and thus not particularly 'Catholic' in that sense. That is true; but for some years after it was invented it was unclear whether it would be successful enough to replace medieval book production. In fact, its success was significantly helped by the brisk fifteenth century trade in printed breviaries and missals and the indulgences produced to fund war against the Ottomans. In other words, it was the vibrancy of late medieval Catholic piety, of which Dr. Gregory makes much, that ensured the future of the printing press and thereby the shipwrecking of the old, stable forms of knowledge.

The Roman Catholic Church knew the danger presented by the easy transmission of, and access to, knowledge which the printing press provided. That is why it was so assiduous in burning books in the sixteenth century and why the Index of Prohibited Books remained in place until the 1960s. I well remember being amazed when reading the autobiography of the analytic philosopher and one-time priest, Sir Anthony Kenny, that he had had to obtain special permission from the Church to read David Hume for his doctoral research in the 1950s. At the start of the twenty-first century, Rome may present herself as the friend of engaged religious intellectuals in North America but she took an embarrassingly long time even to allow her people free access to the most basic books of modern Western thought. Women in Britain had the vote, Elvis (in my humble opinion) had already done his best work and The Beatles and The Rolling Stones were starting to churn out hits before Roman Catholics were free to read David Hume without specific permission from the Church.   

Of course, Dr. Gregory knows about the Index; but he seems to see it as a response to Protestantism, not as an extension of the Church's typical manner of handling deviation from its central tenets and practices which stretched back well before the Reformation. And therein lies the ironic, tragic, perplexing flaw of this brilliant and learned book: Dr. Gregory sets out to prove that Protestantism is the source of all, or at least many, of the modern world's ills; but what he actually does is demonstrate in painstaking and compelling detail that medieval Catholicism and the Papacy with which it was inextricably bound up were ultimately inadequate to the task which they set - which they claimed! - for themselves.  Reformation Protestantism, if I can use the singular, was one response to this failure, as conciliarism had been a hundred years before.  One can dispute the adequacy of such responses; but only by an act of historical denial can one dispute the fact that it was the Papacy which failed.

Thanks to the death of medieval Christendom and to the havoc caused by the Reformation and beyond, Dr Gregory is today free to believe (or not) that Protestantism is an utter failure.  Thanks to the printing press, he is also free to express this in a public form. Thanks to the modern world which grew as a response to the failure of Roman Catholicism, he is also free to choose his own solution to the problems of modernity without fear of rack or rope. Yet, having said all that, I for one find it strange indeed that someone would choose as the solution that which was actually the problem in the first place.

]]> http://www.reformation21.org/articles/pay-no-attention-to-that-man-behind-the-curtain-roman-catholic-history-and-the-e.php http://www.reformation21.org/articles/pay-no-attention-to-that-man-behind-the-curtain-roman-catholic-history-and-the-e.php Articles Featured Church History Roman Catholicism Mon, 02 Apr 2012 10:17:17 -0500 Postmodernity, The Emergent Church, and the Reformation Editors' Note: We continue our monthly series of classic reformation21 articles with this 2005 piece by Dr. Jeffrey Jue.

In 2001, I returned from studying in Britain and landed a teaching position in Washington, D.C. My transition to the metro D.C. area was eased greatly by an old friend whom I had not seen in five years since his seminary graduation from Dallas Theological Seminary. He was a fresh, young, newl-ywed youth minister, ready to tackle the challenging demands of pastoral ministry. Like the majority of DTS graduates, my friend was theologically precise, socially conservative, and winsomely evangelical. Five years later the clean-cut youth pastor now sported a fashionable goatee, had shed the "traditional" ministry career track in favor of opportunities which he described as "out of the box", and was fascinated by progressive theologians wrestling with the ideological challenges of postmodernity. My friend had undergone a radical transformation and what emerged was my first confrontation with a self-conscious postmodern Christian. His experience, like many others, was an awakening stirred by the unassailable effects of a massive intellectual and cultural paradigm shift. 

The Emergent Phenomenon

Postmodernity began as an intellectual discussion reserved for the halls of the academy.(1) Yet in the past decade we have seen it trickle down to more popular levels, including the evangelical church. Carl Raschke claims that the result of this trickle down effect has left evangelicalism in a state of crisis. Evangelicalism is facing "an intellectual challenge of a magnitude it had never before confronted".(2) The crisis has impacted many evangelical pastors, like my friend, who count themselves among a growing number of pastors/para-church workers/scholars/writers who are convinced that the evangelical church is ill equipped to handle the challenge of postmodernity. In response, these church leaders are attempting to address this challenge with a new Christianity, suited for the postmodern environment. D.A. Carson writes, "At the heart of the 'movement'--or as some of its leaders prefer to call it, the 'conversation'--lies the conviction that changes in the culture signal that a new church is "emerging."'(3) As Carson goes on to describe, the "emerging" or "emergent" movement connotes something which is connected with what preceded it, yet fully engaged with the progress of the present.(4)

What impact is the Emerging Church having? This is the question that inspired the recent cover articles of many prominent evangelical magazines.(5) The Emerging Church is undeniably a voice gaining great attention.(6) The most recognized Emergent pastor, Brian McLaren, was named one of the twenty-five most influential evangelicals in America by TIME magazine.(7) Likewise the plethora of Emergent publications - including internet websites - is generating a phenomena that is beyond the infant stage. As in the case of all new movements, careful evaluation must follow. 

Church History and the Postmodern Reader

The purpose of this article is not to provide a comprehensive critique of the Emergent Church.(8) Instead I would like to give a somewhat narrowly focused evaluation from the perspective of a historian and then offer some suggestions from church history to help address some of the concerns expressed by Emergent leaders. At first it may seem misplaced to invoke a primarily retrospective discipline while commenting on an extremely prospective movement. Moreover, some readers might be anticipating a predictable traditionalist critique that eschews anything progressive. After all, the Emergent Church, like all postmodern thinkers, is attempting to move beyond the past and discard the shackles of modernity.(9) While many within this movement prefer to engage current issues or anticipate future challenges, the motivation for insisting upon a "new Christianity" is deeply historical. 

Postmoderns agree that the age of modernity is declining and with it many of the modern assumptions, convictions, and propositions. All of the Emergent leaders insist upon this historical periodization between modern and postmodern as a necessary starting point from which to evaluate the Christian message and practice, and reformulate a Christian faith that is suitable for the postmodern culture. As a result, the Emergent Church claims that many of the so-called "modern" Christian distinctions are no longer appropriate.(10) According to McLaren, modern distinctions that separated Charismatics from non-Charismatics, Arminians from Calvinists, Liberals from Conservative Christians, and even Protestants from Roman Catholics must be revised in favor of a more generous orthodoxy.(11) Those in the Emerging Church advocate an orthodoxy that is not entrapped by the assumptions of modernity that were tainted by the rationalism of the Enlightenment.(12) 

We must be careful at this point to describe the Emergent Church accurately. They are not suggesting that Christianity has no positive historical roots or that the form of Christianity needed to address the postmodern culture must be constructed de novo. In fact, certain leaders are returning to the "ancient faith and practices" for Christian examples which pre-date modernity. Thus, some writers are deeply interested in the history of the Church Fathers and Medieval Christianity.(13) It is difficult to argue against the premise that the study of history has played a crucial role in the intellectual formation of the Emergent Church. In his book A Generous Orthodoxy, McLaren writes: 
      My quarrel with accumulating orthodoxy does not mean I advocate a 
      "know-nothing" approach to church history. The very opposite is the case. 
      The orthodoxy explored in this book invites as never before to study not 
      only the history of the church, but also the history of writing the church's 
      history.(14)

As a historian this quote excites me. I believe that understanding church history is vitally important for today's Church; and likewise the responsible method of studying church history is to examine judiciously both the primary and secondary sources. However, it is on this very point that McLaren, and many other Emergent thinkers, fail to follow their own suggestion. 

Earlier we described the Emerging Church's attempt to move beyond the era of modernity and many of the theological polemics associated with that period. Again, modernity is characterized by rationalism, primarily exemplified by the Enlightenment, which postmodernity now questions. When did this period begin? Many Emergent thinkers date the beginning of modernity with either the sixteenth or seventeenth century.(15) Consequently, the Protestant theology of the Reformers, and the Roman Catholic theology affirmed by the Council of Trent were both modern constructions. I am confident that Roman Catholic historical theologians would protest this description; and I will let them defend their tradition. But it is historically irresponsible to claim that the Protestant Reformers believed that human reason and science were the sole means to obtaining absolute truth and certainty.(16) This is a claim that must, at the very least, engage the substantial scholarly work of Reformation historians who have given us a much more complex and nuanced history of Protestant Christianity.

Reading about the history of the church does matter. Although many Emergent leaders recognize the value of this and consider the study of church history fundamental for understanding the present culture, they have not moved beyond a superficial reading. To be fair, one could argue that I have taken McLaren's statements out of context. His point is that we should study church history as well as how church history has been written, because he recognizes that all historians have biases. He is concerned with many who have written about the past in light of their present convictions, and thereby confirm the old adage: "those who win the battles write the history".(17) Again, on this point I have no quibble with McLaren. But how do we assess historians' biases? To answer this question we need to place the historians and their work in a historiographical context. Following this approach reveals an interesting intersection where the seemingly divergent paths of Reformation historical studies and the Emergent church surprisingly cross.

History and Those Who Write It

By the early twentieth century scholars committed to a neo-orthodox agenda dominated Reformation studies.(18) These scholars attempted to read the writings of the Reformation through their neo-orthodox theological lens.19 The result was a reconstruction of Reformation theology that resembled certain neo-orthodox assumptions concerning revelation, Scripture, and the central function of Christology.(20) Likewise, this historiographical approach erected a divide between the untainted theology of the early sixteenth-century Reformers and the rationalistic theological systems of the seventeenth-century Protestant scholastics. Ostensibly Calvin's theology was lauded, but Calvinism (as perpetuated by men like Theodore Beza, William Perkins, John Owen and Francis Turretin) was denigrated.(21) At this point one might notice that this neo-orthodox historiography is very similar to the postmodern periodization. Neo-orthodox historians and Emergent leaders place the blame on the seventeenth-century as the precise historical moment when Christian theology was corrupted by the rationalism of modernity.  

The implications of this historical analysis are staggering for today's evangelicals. If the Reformation and post-Reformation signal the beginning of modernity, and postmodernity questions the modern intellectual and cultural assumptions, then one could argue that the theological heritage of the Reformation is obsolete.(22) What do we do now with the confessional standards of our churches which were written in the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries? How do we assess the continual ecumenical dialogue between Protestants and Roman Catholics or any other post-sixteenth-century division? This historical analysis potentially calls for a complete postmodern revision of Protestant theology as we know it.(23) 

Before we dismiss all of the theological output of the seventeenth century, we must return again to McLaren's comments about those who write history. The neo-orthodox reading of the Reformation must be evaluated as well. The thorough historian must explore two contexts: the specific sixteenth and seventeenth-century context and the twentieth-century context of the neo-orthodox historians. From the perspective of postmodernity, both the historical period that these neo-orthodox historians sought to study and neo-orthodoxy itself are in fact thoroughly modern.(24) Thus, the way history was written by neo-orthodox historians (rationalistic, euro-centric, metanarratival, etc.) is vulnerable to the same modern shortcomings that are supposedly found in the historical subjects they were studying.(25) To be consistent, McLaren's postmodern approach should be equally suspicious of the modern influences in the neo-orthodox method.(26) Yet, McLaren and other postmodern Christians blindly accept this periodization and historical interpretation without carefully investigating either the theologians of the seventeenth century or the historians of the twentieth century. Postmodern and neo-orthodox historians agree that the rationalism of the seventeenth century, in philosophy and theology, marked the dramatic shift from pre-modern to modern. 

What McLaren and other Emergent leaders and scholars have failed to do is carefully examine the historical sources as well as the writings of other historians who have contested the neo-orthodox historiography. The study of the intellectual history of the Reformation and post-Reformation first begun by Heiko Oberman and then continued by David Steinmetz, Richard Muller, and others is an attempt to introduce a new historical methodology.  This method seeks to understand the Protestant Reformation and post-Reformation in its own historical-intellectual context, without the neo-orthodox premises. The studies from this new methodology paint a very different picture of the past.

Protestant Scholasticism: The Modern Culprit?

Did post-Reformation theologians like Theodore Beza, John Owen, and Francis Turretin depart from the teachings of Calvin and the other Reformers because of their positive appropriation of scholasticism? After all, was not scholasticism a form of theological rationalism perverted by Aristotelian philosophy?(27) Stanley Grenz and John Franke accept this reading in their postmodern assessment of the "modern" theology of Charles Hodge at Old Princeton, since Hodge was so dependent upon the seventeenth century. They write, "Hodge's own understanding of theology is generally derived from the scholasticism characteristic of post-Reformation Protestant orthodoxy and its emphasis on rationalism."(28) At the end of this sentence Grenz and Franke cite the monumental work of Richard Muller. They are correct in citing Muller as the foremost authority on post-Reformation theology, but his four volume magnum opus entitled Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, in no way substantiates Grenz and Franke's claim. In fact, it proves the very opposite. Muller's work disproves the neo-orthodox historians' claim that seventeenth-century Protestant scholasticism broke with the sixteenth century and moved in a rationalistic direction.(29) A few examples will illustrate this.

Historically the Protestant scholastics were contemporaries of early Enlightenment thinkers, but they held a particular view of the relation between faith and reason that did not anticipate the Enlightenment. Muller states,
      The rationalization and intellectualization of theology into system characteristic 
      of the orthodox or scholastic phase of Protestantism never set the standard of 
      scriptural revelation and rational proof on an equal par and certainly never viewed 
      either evidential demonstration or rational necessity as the grounds of faith. 
      Quite the contrary, the Protestant orthodox disavow evidentialism and identify
      theological certainty as something quite distinct from mathematical and rational 
      or philosophical certainty. They also argue quite pointedly that reason has an 
      instrumental function within the bounds of faith and not a magisterial function. 
      Reason never proves faith, but only elaborates faith towards understanding. There 
      is, moreover, underlying this traditional view of the relationship of faith and reason, 
      an anthropology in which sin and the problematic nature of human beings plays a major
      role - in significant contrast to the Enlightenment rationalist assumption of an
      untrammeled constitution of humanity.(30)

Scholasticism referred to a method for arranging and communicating theology, and not the content of one's theology. Post-Reformation theologians were not abandoning the theology of the early Reformers in favor of a more rationalistic approach, but expanding, clarifying and codifying that theology. Take Francis Turretin as an example. Turretin was professor of theology at Calvin's academy in Geneva from 1653 to 1687. In his Institutes of Elenctic Theology, he frequently used scholastic distinctions and arrangements. Yet Turretin was careful to differentiate between reason as the foundation or principle of theology and reason as an instrument or means for constructing theology. The first, Turretin adamantly denied. Turretin explained that reason is never the foundation or principle of theology, but rather it is useful as an instrument for illustrating and collating theological doctrines.(31) It is interesting to note Turretin's precision on this issue. He was not saying that reason is unequivocally antithetical to faith. Instead he clarified,
      [f]or a thing to be contrary to reason is different from its being above and 
      beyond; to be overthrown by reason and to be unknown to it. The mysteries of 
      faith are indeed contrary to corrupt reason and assailed by it, but they are only 
      above and beyond right reason and are not taught by it.(32)
Turretin, and other Protestant scholastics, were not propagating a rationalistic theological agenda. Scholasticism was a pedagogical method for teaching a full Protestant theological curriculum in the first Protestant universities.(33)  

Likewise seventeenth-century (as well as sixteenth-century) theologians saw themselves in continuity with a wider Western Christian tradition. While defending the absolute authority of Scripture, they went to great lengths to demonstrate their theological dependence on the Church Fathers, and their measured appropriation of certain aspects of Medieval theology. Irena Backus, David Steinmetz, and Anthony Lane have written numerous volumes detailing the substantial use of patristic sources by Reformation and post-Reformation writers.(34) Protestants were eager to establish their theological continuity with the past and thereby demonstrate that the Protestant church was not a new invention. They looked to Irenaeus, Tertullian, Athanasius, Augustine, Anselm, Bernard of Clairvaux, and John Duns Scotus to confirm and refine their theological positions. Their intention was not to start a new church, but to recover the true "catholic" or universal church. Consequently, it is very difficult to sustain the argument that either the sixteenth or seventeenth-century Reformed theologians were making a radical "modern" break from their past.

In failing to take into account the current state of Reformation scholarship, McLaren and others have allowed their own postmodern presuppositions to shade their interpretation of the past. But are the results so problematic? The simple solution would be to shift the starting date of the modern age forward and possibly narrow the intellectual roots to the early Enlightenment philosophers. This correction would keep their critiques of modernism intact while maintaining a more accurate historical reading. While this may be an easy solution, the implications for this adjustment are significant. 

The Emergent Church is not introducing a new Christianity completely detached from any historical roots. Yet the postmodern periodization of history has contributed to the utter neglect or, at the very least, the gross distortion of Reformation and post-Reformation history and theology. Other than a hollow view of Semper Reformanda, the Reformed tradition is abandoned as a meaningful theological partner in their "emerging conversation" with postmodernity. My purpose is not to deny the importance of addressing postmodernism, nor to insist upon a blind traditionalism that seeks to return to some past "golden age" of the church.  I agree with D. A. Carson's assessment: one positive contribution of the Emergent Church is their desire to present an authentic Christianity that moves beyond a formal religious faith. This desire has lead many Emergent leaders to see the problems with nineteenth and twentieth-century evangelicalism and seek to offer something with more integrity. But is this "new Christianity" using all the resources available to address the postmodern questions? A more careful investigation of the sixteenth and seventeenth-century theologians reveals a pre-modern theology that bears little resemblance to the intellectual assumptions of Enlightenment and post-Enlightenment thinkers.  In fact this pre-modern theology provides a number of helpful theological tools for addressing the concerns of the Emergent Church.

The Reformation meets Postmodernity

Let me offer three modest examples of the usefulness of Reformation theology for addressing the concerns of the Emergent Church.  These are tentative examples, which should be explored more fully, but I propose them as a positive contribution to this discussion. First, in his article entitled "From the Third Floor to the Garage," Spencer Burke describes his dissatisfaction with evangelicalism and his eventual "emergence."(35) Burke writes about his discontentment with what he calls "spiritual McCarthyism." Historically what he is describing is the legacy of Fundamentalism within the evangelical church. Burke laments the authoritarian approach of many pastors that stifles theological investigation (because it automatically leads to Liberalism) but claims doctrinal absolutes with little intellectual substantiation. Emergent leaders take seriously the need for Christians to engage the culture intellectually. This was not always the case in the history of evangelicalism. For much of the twentieth-century evangelical Fundamentalism was on the retreat intellectually.(36) Yet Emergent thinkers are riding the tide of intellectual rediscovery within evangelicalism and moving forward within a postmodern context.(37) Still, D. A. Carson is convinced that much of the thinking within the Emergent community is intellectually lacking.(38) One way for the Emergent Church to address Carson's concern is to look for examples of theological engagement in a pre-modern context like the Reformation. 

Intellectual engagement was and continues to be a hallmark of the Reformed tradition. Reformed theologians were the leading intellectuals in early modern Europe. They taught at prestigious ancient universities like Oxford, Cambridge, Heidelberg, Geneva, and Utrecht. Their writings engaged a host of disciplines beyond just theology. In fact the seventeenth-century theologian, Johann Heinrich Alsted, wrote an encyclopedia which attempted to summarize the corpus of all human learning.(39) But what is most applicable for the Emergent concerns is the Reformers understanding of epistemology. One of the most popular postmodern criticisms of modern evangelicalism, including Fundamentalism, focuses upon the foundationalist approach to epistemology.(40) Foundationalism, as described by postmodern thinkers, seeks to establish an incontrovertible ground for absolute truth through rationalistic methods. Emergent thinkers reject this approach, arguing that such a method is no longer tenable in a postmodern context.(41) Instead, they offer an approach that has been characterized as intellectually shallow and relativistic.(42) 

Nancey Murphy has argued that nineteenth-century Reformed theologians, specifically the theologians at Princeton Theological Seminary, were foundationalists shaped by the commonsense philosophy of Thomas Reid.(43) However, the Reformed confessions of the sixteenth and seventeenth-century do not reflect the same commonsense philosophical influence. While the confessions and the Princetonians shared the same material understanding of Scripture, as authoritative and infallible, they differed somewhat on how they formally defended Scripture's authority. Princeton was influenced by the modern intellectual priority on scientific method, while the Reformers emphasized the self-attesting nature of Scripture.(44) Scripture is the Word of God because it carries with it the authority of the author, God himself. This is not a rational construct, though it does not contradict reason. Instead the Reformers offered an approach that distinguished carefully between God as the principium essendi (essential foundation) of all theology and Scripture as the principium cognoscendi (cognitive foundation) of revealed theology. The authority of Scripture as the cognitive foundation is not found in a rational method for demonstrating reliability; but Scripture presupposes God, the essential foundation, while at the same time teaching us who God is.(45) Thus the foundation for theology is not a scientifically verifiable Scripture, or the consensus of a community, but God himself as he has been revealed in his inscripurated Word. For those in the Emergent Church who seek an alternative to modern foundationalism, the Reformed confessions offer a historical pre-modern standard.(46)

Second, Spencer Burke goes on to describe his rejection of "spiritual isolationism."(47) This isolationism is demonstrated in the flight of evangelical churches to the suburbs and away from the pressing socio-economic and cultural issues of the secular urban centers. Burke laments the lost of an authentic Christian community. Evangelicalism in both its message and method emphasized the individual. The message was a simple Gospel, narrowly defined by the "Four Spiritual Laws", and offering Jesus as one's "personal Savior." Built into this message was the urgency for individual conversion. The popularity of classical dispensational pre-millennialism and the special blessing of a secret rapture for believers can explain part of that urgency. The practice of massive evangelistic crusades gave way to the mega-churches and a corporate model for ministry. Instead of this, the Emergent Church seeks to establish a community, both theological and ecclesial, that breaks down the isolation and integrates Christian faith and life.  But their reaction to evangelicalism's radical individualism has led them to emphasize the community at the expense of the individual.  The writings of McLaren and other Emergent leaders focus very little on individual salvation and doctrines associated like justification, final judgment and hell.(48) In fact, when McLaren does comment on soteriology, he is woefully confusing.(49)

Christianity addresses both the individual and corporate/communal issues. Emphasizing one over the other is equally problematic. Reformed theologians in the sixteenth- and seventeenth-century attempted to balance these two extremes. In the context of Roman Catholic/Protestant polemics, the issue of justification was central. The doctrine of justification by faith alone was at the very heart of the Reformation's message. Yet, the Reformers would address corporate issues alongside of this important individual doctrine. John Calvin's Reformation project touched nearly every aspect of city life in Geneva.(50) I recognize that the social, cultural and political context of sixteenth-century Geneva was very different from the twenty-first century; however, it is undeniable that the Reformers carried out their work in the urban centers of their day. These were the cities setting the pace for intellectual, social and cultural exchange.(51) They did not isolate themselves in Medieval monasteries, or limit their message to a simple gospel; instead they worked to reform their cities according to their Christian convictions. It is important to note that I am not attempting to declare with John Knox that "Geneva was the most perfect city since the time of the Apostles." I am only highlighting the intent of the Reformers, while fully recognizing their depravity and need for grace; and consequently their intent was not always carried out in the most Christian manner.  Nevertheless the example is still valid. 

Finally, Burke labels his third issue "spiritual Darwinism".(52) Again Burke is describing the capitalistic/marketing approach found in many evangelical churches, often identified as "church growth" methods. Evangelicalism fostered a culture of upwardly mobile professional ministers, looking for the latest method to increase their congregation's size and public profile. For Burke, success was measured quantitatively, and the pressure to succeed was overwhelming.(53) In response to this "spiritual Darwinism," Burke and other Emergent pastors are right to ask some fundamental questions: how do we define the ministry of the Gospel and how should that ministry be conducted?  Once again I believe the Reformed tradition has something helpful to contribute.

I admit that Reformed Christians are not immune from Burke's "spiritual Darwinism." All prominent ministers to some degree face the temptation to be "superstars."  Power and authority must be exercised with great humility. But again some of the emphases of the Reformation can help us avoid the cycle of spiritual Darwinism. The ministry of the Gospel for the Reformers was utterly ecclesial. Ministry was conducted within the context of the church, and characterized by the preaching of the Gospel and the administration of the sacraments. The ministry of the Word and sacrament became the primary function of the church and the priority for those who were called to serve as pastors. The pulpit was central to the life of the church and ministers labored diligently to craft substantive sermons that would instruct and encourage their congregations. 

In describing the preaching of the puritan pastor, Richard Baxter, Paul Lim writes, 
      In exhorting his ministerial colleagues, Baxter called preaching "the most excellent" 
      part of the work. At the same time, preaching was a difficult task since it was "a 
      work that requireth greater skill, and especially greater life and zeal, then any of us 
      bring to it." Furthermore, it was "no small matter" to stand before the congregation 
      as well as before God, but it was no easier "to speak so plain, that the ignorant 
      may understand us, and so seriously, that he deadest hearts may feel us; and so 
      convincingly, that the contradicting Cavilers may be silenced."(54)
Contrary to this model evangelical and Emergent churches alike have turned preaching into multi-media presentations complete with dramas, video clips, and light shows, claiming this is the only way to reach effectively the sophisticated image-dependent postmoderns. Gone, like the dinosaurs, is the old Reformed model of preaching. Many have claimed that it cannot survive and communicate in a postmodern world.  Yet in New York City, arguably one of the most culturally progressive urban centers, thousands gather each Sunday at Redeemer Presbyterian Church to listen to a pastor, without any visual aids, simply preach. Now these sermons are not the old reductionist evangelical Gospel, but they profoundly engage the contemporary culture with the person and work of Jesus Christ. 

Finally, the dominant corporate mentality of the evangelical church must be redirected back to the biblical understanding of the covenant community. The Reformers recognized that the sacraments helped to reorient Christians and shift their focus from themselves to Christ and his visible church. The sacraments identify an individual as united with Christ and likewise a member within the covenant community. Clarifying this was crucial for the Protestant Reformers as they sought to define the role and function of the church. The Westminster Confession of Faith, 28:1 reads:
      Sacraments are holy signs and seals of the covenant of grace, immediately 
      instituted by God, to represent Christ and his benefits, and to confirm our interest 
      in him; as also to put a visible difference between those that belong unto the church 
      and the rest of the world; and solemnly to engage them to the service of God in 
      Christ, according to his word.
Baptism is the initiatory sign and seal of God's covenant promises, and the Lord Supper is a regular confirmation of that reality. Church members are not opportunistic employees, self-gratifying consumers, or anonymous faces in the audience. They are participants in the covenant community, who need and desire the grace of God given in Christ. A recovery of the Reformed understanding of the sacraments can help address the spiritual Darwinism that Burke rejected.
Conclusion

What's emerging in the church? According to many Emergent leaders, something old and new. But without accurately understanding the old, the new lacks the rigor and depth which can only be achieved through years of testing and refinement. Meeting the challenges of our contemporary culture is not an easy task. We must have the humility to admit that we cannot meet this challenge alone. Thankfully we are not historically isolated. We have a rich history of theological reflections and writings from which to draw from. 

Dr. Jeffrey Jue is associate professor of church history and the Stephen Tong Associate Professor of Reformed Theology, as well as Vice President for Academic Affairs and Academic Dean, at Westminster Theological Seminary.
      
Notes:
1. Kevin J. Vanhoozer (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Postmodern Theology (Cambridge, 2003), pp. 3-4.
2. Carl Raschke, The Next Reformation: Why Evangelicals Must Embrace Postmodernity (Grand Rapids, 2004), p. 11.
3. D. A. Carson, Becoming Conversant with the Emerging Church: Understanding a Movement and Its Implications (Grand Rapids, 2005), p. 12. 
4. Ibid. 12. The labels Younger Evangelicals, postconservatives or postevangelicals is also used to identify this movement. See Roger E. Olson, "Postconservative Evangelicals Greet the Postmodern Age", Christian Century 112 (May 1995), p. 480, and Millard J. Erickson, Paul K. Helseth & Justin Taylor (eds.), Reclaiming the Center: Confronting Evangelical Accommodation in Postmodern Times (Wheaton, 2004), p. 21. 
5. Andy Crouch, "The Emergent Mystique", Christianity Today (November 2004), pp. 36-41; Scott Bader-Saye, "The Emergent Matrix", The Christian Century (November 30, 2004), pp. 20-27. Likewise articles have appeared in smaller denomination journals: Chuck De Groat, 'A Growing Hunger for Honest and Authenticity: "Younger Evangelicals" in the PCA', By Faith (January/February 2005), pp. 26-29. 
6. Recently PBS aired a two-episode documentary entitled: "The Emerging Church". See: http://www.pbs.org/wnet/religionandethics/week846/cover.html
7. Time (February 7, 2005). 
8. Two more comprehensive resources are: D. A. Carson, Becoming Conversant with the Emerging Church, and Michael Horton's comments in Leonard Sweet (ed.), The Church in Emerging Culture: Five Perspectives (Grand Rapids, 2003). 
9. An example of this postmodern program is the work of postfoundationalist theologians like Nancey Murphy, Stanley Grenz and John Franke. See N. Murphy, Beyond Liberalism and Fundamentalism: How Modern and Postmodern Philosophy set the Theological Agenda (Valley Forge, 1996); S. Grenz & J. Franke, Beyond Foundationalism: Shaping Theology in a Postmodern Context (Louisville, 2001). 
10. John Franke, "Generous Orthodoxy and a Changing World: Foreword to Generous Orthodoxy", in B. McLaren, A Generous Orthodoxy (Grand Rapids, 2004), p. 9.
11. McLaren, A Generous Orthodoxy. 
12. Ibid. 
13. Robert Webber, Ancient-Future Faith: Rethinking Evangelicalism for a Postmodern World (Grand Rapids, 1999). 
14. McLaren, A Generous Orthodoxy, p. 29. 
15. Brian D. McLaren, A New Kind of Christian: A Tale of Two Friends on a Spiritual Journey (San Francisco, 2001), pp. 14-22; Rascke, The Next Reformation, p. 26; Stanley Grenz, A Primer on Postmodernism (Grand Rapids, 1996), p. 58.
16. McLaren, A New Kind of Christian, p. 17. 
17. McLaren, A Generous Orthodoxy, p. 29.
18. Hans J. Hillerbrand, "Was There a Reformation in the Sixteenth Century?", Church History, 72:3 (September 2003), p. 525-552 . For examples see W. Niesel, Theology of John Calvin, trans. Harold Knight (London, 1956) and J. B. Torrance, "The Concept of Federal Theology - Was Calvin a Federal Theologian?", in W. H. Neuser (ed.), Calvinus Sacrae Scripturae Professor: Calvin as Confessor of Holy Scripture (Grand Rapids, 1994), pp. 15-41. 
19. C. R. Trueman and R. S. Clark (eds.), Protestant Scholasticism: Essays in Reassessment (Cumbria, 1999), p. xii. 
20. Muller, After Calvin: Studies in the Development of a Theological Tradition (Oxford and New York, 2003), p. 63. Muller writes, "This neoorthodox historiography not only shifted the discussion of Calvin away form the nineteenth-century models that had placed him in continuity with the Reformed orthodox [seventeenth-century Reformed theologians], it also added to the discussion a series of highly debatable dogmatic premises that have served to cloud the understanding of the Reformation", Ibid. 66. 
21. For examples of this approach see Basil Hall, "Calvin Against the Calvinists", in G. Duffield (eds.), John Calvin: A Collection of Distinguished Essays (Grand Rapids, 1966), pp. 19-37, and Brian G. Armstrong, Calvinism and the Amyraut Heresy: Protestant Scholasticism and Humanism in Seventeenth Century France (Madison, 1969). 
22. See John Franke, "Reforming Theology: Toward a Postmodern Reformed Dogmatics", Westminster Theological Journal, 65 (2003), p. 1-26. 
23. This is precisely what McLaren is seeking to do in Generous Orthodoxy. For more a more scholarly attempt see Stanley Grenz, Renewing the Center: Evangelical Theology in a Post-Theological Era (Grand Rapids, 2000). 
24. Some theologians who embrace postmodernity claim that neo-orthodoxy, particularly the theology of Karl Barth, was a proto-postmodern approach. See Stanely Hauerwas, With the Grain of the Universe: The Church's Witness and Natural Theology (2001) and John R. Franke, "God Hidden and Wholly Revealed: Karl Barth, Postmodernity and Evangelical Theology", Books and Culture: A Christian Review, 9:5(Sept/Oct. 2003), pp. 16-17, 40-41. However, this positive appropriation of Barth is debatable amongst postmodern theologians. Nancey Murphy writes, "Barth is certainly open to being read as a scriptural foundationalist, even in passages quoted by those arguing against this claim", N. Murphy, Beyond Liberalism & Fundamentalism, p. 95. Moreover I believe Cornelius Van Til's critique of neo-orthodoxy as a "new modernism" is still relevant. See C. Van Til, The New Modernism: An Appraisal of the Theology of Barth and Brunner (Philadelphia, 1946). 
25. Millard Erickson identifies a "new historicism" in the postmodern agenda, M. Erickson, "On Flying in a Theological Fog," in Erickson, Helseth and Taylor (eds.), Reclaiming the Center, pp. 332-337.
26. As far as I am aware neither McLaren nor any other Emergent writer has commented in detail on Reformation or post-Reformation historiography. But I would imagine, given their generous orthodoxy, neo-orthodoxy would not trigger the same theological red flags. Still, they would need to account for the modern influences on neo-orthodoxy and its implications for writing history. 
27. See Armstrong, Calvinism and the Amyraut Heresy, p. 32.
28. Grenz & Franke, Beyond Foundationalism, p. 14. 
29. Muller argues "it is no longer sufficient to note that the post-Reformation orthodox used scholastic method and that some of their theological and philosophical views stand in contrast with those of presumably nonscholastic or antischolastic Reformers". Muller, After Calvin, p. 72; Trueman & Clark (eds.), Protestant Scholasticism, p. xiv.  
30. Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics: The Rise and Development of Reformed Orthodoxy, Volume One: Prolegomena to Theology (Grand Rapids, 2003, 2nd edition), pp, 141-142. 
31. Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, Volume One: First through Tenth Topics, edited by J. T. Dennison Jr., translated by G. M. Giger (Phillipsburg, 1992), pp. 25-27. 
32. Ibid. 27. 
33. Richard Muller, After Calvin, pp. 27-33; idem, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, p. 62.
34. Irena Backus, (ed.), The Reception of the Church Fathers in the West: From the Carolingians to the Maurists (Leiden, 1997); David C. Steinmetz, "Calvin and the Patristic Exegesis of Paul", in D. C. Steinmetz (ed.), The Bible in the Sixteenth Century (Durham, N.C. and London, 1990), pp. 100-118; Anthony Lane, John Calvin Student of the Church Fathers (Grand Rapids, 2000). 
35. Spencer Burke, "From the Third Floor to the Garage", in Mike Yaconelli (ed.), Stories of Emergence: Moving from Absolute to Authentic (El Cajon, 2003), pp. 27-39.
36. See David Wells, No Place for the Truth or Whatever Happened to Evangelical Theology? (Grand Rapids, 1993) and Mark Noll, The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind (Grand Rapids, 1995). 
37. Alan Wolfe, "The Opening of the Evangelical Mind", Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 286, no. 4 (October 2000), pp. 55-76.
38. Carson writes "The almost universal condemnation of modernism, and of Christianity under modernism, is not only historically skewed and ethically ungrateful, but is frequently theologically shallow and intellectually incoherent". Carson, Becoming Conversant with the Emerging Church, p. 68.
39. Johann Heinrich Alsted, Encyclopaedia (Herborn, 1630). For more details about Alsted see Howard B. Hotson, Johann Heinrich Alsted: Between Renaissance, Reformation and Universal Reform (Oxford, 2000). 
40. Again see Grenz and Franke, Beyond Foundationalism and Nancey Murphy, Beyond Liberalism and Fundamentalism. 
41. McLaren, Generous Orthodoxy, p. 117. For an assessment of the foundationalist/post-foundationalist discussion see J. P. Moreland and Garret DeWesse, "The Premature Report of Foundationalism's Demise", in Erickson, Helseth and Taylor, Reclaiming the Center, pp. 81-107.
42. Ibid. 89. 
43. Murphy, Beyond Liberalism and Fundamentalism, p. 5.
44. Westminster Confession of Faith, 1:4. 
45. Belgic Confession, VIII, Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, vol. II, p. 152.
46. This alternative to foundationalism is recognized in the nineteenth and twentieth-century Dutch Reformed tradition which did not follow Old Princeton. See George Hunsinger, "What Can Evangelicals and Postliberals Learn from Each Other: The Carl Henry-Hans Frei Exchange Reconsidered", in T. R. Phillips & D. R. Okholm (eds.), The Nature of Confession: Evangelicals and Postliberals in Conversation (Downers Grove, 1996), pp. 134-150 and Michael Horton, "Yale Postliberalism: Back to the Bible?", in M. Horton (ed.), A Confessing Theology for Postmodern Times (Wheaton, 2000), pp. 183-216.
47. Burke, "From the Third Floor to the Garage", p. 32. 
48. McLaren, Generous Orthodoxy, pp. 99-101; 112-114.            
49. When asked a question on universalism, McLaren responds, "each road [universalists or exclusivists] takes you somewhere, to a place with advantages or disadvantages, but none of them is the road of my missional calling ... Inclusivism says the gospel is efficacious for many, and exclusivism says for a comparative few. But I'm more interested in a gospel that is universally efficacious for the whole earth before death in history", McLaren, Generous Orthodoxy, pp. 113-114. By calling for a prelapsarian gospel (which is already confusing, for why would salvation be necessary before Adam sinned?) - McLaren has confused the probationary period with the necessary redemptive plan of God, culminating in the work of Jesus Christ. This confusion is illustrated in another place. McLaren affirms that salvation is by grace through faith, yet at the final judgment Christians are not judged according to the meritorious work of Christ, but by "how well individuals have lived up to God's hopes and dreams for our world and for life in it", McLaren, The Story We Find Ourselves In: Further Adventures of a New Kind of Christian (San Francisco, 2001), pp. 166-167. D. A. Carson points out how similar this is to certain strands of the New Perspective on Paul approach within Pauline studies, Carson, Becoming Conversant with the Emerging Church, p. 181. Carson is correct in identifying the similar theological conclusions reached by the two movements. In many ways the New Perspective on Paul compliments the Emergent agenda. As we have been arguing, the Emerging Church seeks a postmodern revisionist Christian theology that is not conditioned by modernity, but informed by pre-modern sources. The New Perspective on Paul supplies a pre-modern revisionist Christian theology based on a reconstructed history of early Christianity in the context of Second Temple Judaism. Addressing the Emerging Church's concern, this Second Temple context predates Christianity's captivation with Greek rational philosophy. 
50. See Robert Kingdon, T. A. Lambert, I. M. Watt, J. R. Watt (eds.), M. W. McDonald (trans.), The Registers of the Consistory of Geneva at the time of Calvin, Volume 1: 1542-1544 (Grand Rapids, 2000). 
51. See Euan Cameron, The European Reformation (Oxford, 1991), pp. 210-266 and Berndt Hamm, "The Urban Reformation in the Holy Roman Empire", in T. A. Brady Jr., H. A. Oberman, J. D. Tracy (eds.), Handbook of European History, 1400-1600: Late Middle Ages, Renaissance and Reformation, Volume 2: Visions, Programs, and Outcomes (Grand Rapids, 1995), pp. 193-227.
52. Burke, "From the Third Floor to the Garage", p. 34.
53. Ibid. 35.
54. Paul Chang-Ha Lim, In Pursuit of Purity, Unity and Liberty: Richard Baxter's Puritan Ecclesiology in Its Seventeenth-Century Context (Leiden & Boston, 2004), p. 27.
]]> http://www.reformation21.org/articles/postmodernity-the-emergent-church-and-the-reformation.php http://www.reformation21.org/articles/postmodernity-the-emergent-church-and-the-reformation.php Articles Featured Mon, 26 Mar 2012 11:25:10 -0500 John Piper, Bloodlines piper_bloodlines_95.jpgJohn Piper, Bloodlines: Race, Cross, and the Christian (Crossway 2011, 295 pp.)

There are fewer things more distressing than racial division within the Christian church.  Yet racial division has plagued the church from the beginning.  Whether one considers the apparent antagonism between Greek and Hebrew speaking Jewish Christians which evidences itself in Acts 6, or Paul's reminder to the Ephesians that Christ has torn down the dividing wall between Jews and Gentiles in Ephesians 2:11-22, it is evident that this sin is one that reappears from time to time. It is equally evident from the whole sweep of Scripture that racial animosity is a sin and has no place whatsoever in the church of Jesus Christ.  While there is one faith, one Lord, and one baptism (Ephesians 4:5), the church is to be made up of people from every tribe, and tongue, and nation (Rev. 5:9; 7:4; 13:7).

Into this context speaks prolific author and pastor John Piper. Writing not as an expert in the field but as one whose heart is burdened over this issue, Piper offers us Bloodlines: Race, Cross, and the Christian as an attempt to address the problem of racial division and animosity. More specifically Piper seeks to address the race question from the perspective of Reformed Christianity. Even more specifically, Piper addresses the relation of blacks and whites in the church in America in light of our history with slavery, the Civil War, and the civil rights movement. While acknowledging that the Reformed faith has a checkered history relating to slavery in America, Piper argues that the Reformed faith (shorthand for biblical Christianity) has the internal resources for self-criticism and correction  and offers hope to those trapped in the wretched vice-grip of the sin of racism.  

John Piper begins his study with a note to his readers on his use of the terms "race" and "racism" (17-19). The author is concerned with clarity in communication and so offers a definition of these two words.  For Piper, "race" and "ethnicity" are closely related terms, if not exactly synonymous.  "Unless I explicitly differentiate race and racism from ethnicity and ethnic; I would like you, the reader, to think of both when I mention either - that is, ethnicity with a physical component and race with a cultural component.  Very often I use the terms together to draw out this combination of ideas" (18).  Piper offers further thought regarding the difference between race and ethnicity, "...since ethnicity includes beliefs and attitudes and behaviors, we are biblically and morally bound to value some aspects of some ethnicities over others. Where such valuing is truly rooted in biblical teaching about good and evil, this should not be called racism. There are aspects of every culture including our own (whoever "our" is), which are sinful and in need of transformation.  So the definition of racism leaves room for assessing cultures on the basis of a biblical standard" (18).  At the end of the day, racism involves both heart attitudes and actions.  "The heart that believes one race is more valuable than another is a sinful heart.  And that sin is called racism.  The behavior that distinguishes one race as more valuable than another is a sinful behavior.  And that sin is called racism.  This personal focus on the term racism does not exclude expression of this sin in structural ways-for example, laws and policies that demean and exclude on the basis of race..." (18-19).

Piper organizes his book into two major parts:  part one deals the world's need for the gospel (31-106) and part two deals with God's word as the power of the gospel (109-233).  The book also includes four appendices dealing with (1) the terminology of race, (2) God-centered theology and the black experience in America, (3) how Piper's church (Bethlehem Baptist Church) pursues ethnic diversity, and (4)  the implications of Noah's curse.  Part one of the book begins with the author's own story of growing up in the segregated south and involves his pilgrimage on the way to becoming pastor of Bethlehem Baptist Church in Minneapolis.  Piper moves on to stress the importance of the gospel and his life transformation.  The third chapter notes the changing face of the church from a predominantly European and North American phenomenon to a predominantly Two-Thirds world movement.  Piper then addresses the exemplary nature of the black-white relationship, the need to consider both personal and systemic matters, and the power of the gospel and the roots of racial strife.

Piper begins the second part of the book, which focuses on the power of the gospel for salvation, with the story of William Wilberforce and his concern with doctrine and slavery.  Wilberforce believed that the moral problem of slavery (and other social issues) was connected to a failure to understand and embrace the doctrine of justification by faith alone (109-112).  Doctrine has practical consequences.  Piper then deals with the accomplishment of the gospel, considers the mission of Jesus and the end of ethnocentrism, the creation of one new humanity, the ransoming for God from every tribe, and the fact that all people are justified in the same way.  Yes, true doctrine has practical consequences indeed! Piper meditates on dying with Christ for the sake of Christ-exalting diversity, living in sync with gospel freedom, and the law of liberty and the peril of partiality. Piper asks why diversity within unity was worth the death of the Son.  Finally, in the fourth section of part two of the book, the author speaks to interracial marriage and prejudice.

Having considered the details of Piper's Bloodlines, I would like to offer three observations.  My first thought is that the relation between blacks and whites is the most obvious one in the American context but it is by no means the only racial divide either in this land or in other lands.  In this book it serves as the paradigm case and offers us insight into the dynamics of race and ethnicity involving other groups.  Whites and blacks have no corner on this market.  

Secondly, Reformed Christianity is not alone in its having to wrestle with the problem of racism.  Most, if not all, of the major branches of the Christian faith in America split over the slavery issue in the years leading up to and into the Civil War and it is myopic to act as if only the Reformed faith has a checkered past on this score.  This is not to let us off the hook, but I mention it to remind us that the problem is broader than the Reformed community.  

Thirdly, the issue of racism manifests the utter devious sinfulness of sin.  The problem is not difficult to understand; this sin is simply that - sin.  But what is complex is how this sin insinuates itself into other matters.  The sin of racism is intertwined with cultural and theological issues not directly related to racism per se.  Sometimes what is understood to be a racial divide is more a theological or cultural divide.  More often than not, racism gets entangled with theological and cultural matters. It is only the grace of Christ that can free us from the miasma of this specific sin.

This is a wide-ranging and searching volume that addresses a perennial problem.  At the end of the day, the only satisfactory answer to racism is the reconciling blood of the Lord Jesus Christ and the integrating ministry of the Holy Spirit that glorifies God the Father.  When we are reconciled to the Father by the Son through the Spirit, this spills over into reconciliation with our fellow human beings.  Piper does not pretend to have offered the last word on this subject.  But it is a powerful word. If we believe that the Reformed faith is the most biblical expression of the Christian faith, then we should long to see it spread to every land, tribe, and tongue.  
Rev. Jeffrey Waddington (PhD. Candidate, Westminster Theological Seminary) is the teacher of Calvary Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Ringoes, NJ. He is the co-editor, with Dr. Lane Tiption, of Resurrection and Eschatology.

]]> http://www.reformation21.org/shelf-life/john-piper-bloodlines.php http://www.reformation21.org/shelf-life/john-piper-bloodlines.php Shelf Life Race issues Mon, 19 Mar 2012 12:10:32 -0500