The Creation Account Controlled by Ordinary Providence — With the second major argument of the framework view, Kline presents the case that God used ordinary providence (God’s non-miraculous operations in sustaining and directing all creation) to control the creation “week” (for my extended argument as well as documentation, see pp. 63–108 of my journal article).  This argument, according to Kline, is predicated on interpreting “because it had not rained” in Gen 2:5 as presupposing that God would not have created plants until he first created an environment with the necessary rain to sustain the growth of those plants. Based upon this “unargued presupposition,” it is inferred that God used ordinary providence to control the creation “week.” In addition, if ordinary providence, as opposed to extraordinary providence (God’s miraculous intervention in the created order), controls the period of creation, then Gen 1:1–2:3 cannot be a sequential account because, for example, vegetation was created on Day 3 before the Sun was created on Day 4.

What works against Kline’s “unargued presupposition” in Gen 2:5 is the context in which this verse is located. As commentators consistently note, v. 5 is part of a series of six nonsequential clauses in vv. 5–6 that provide circumstances associated with the primary proposition in v. 7: the formation of man (“Then the Lord God formed man of dust from the ground…”). This initial proposition of v. 7, a waw consecutive that initiates a narrative sequence that is advanced by a series of 21 waw consecutives in Gen 2:4–25, introduces a narrative description of the state of the created order on Day 6 of the creation week when God formed his image bearers, Adam and Eve, to rule as vice-regents from the Garden prepared on the same day. Additionally, Gen 1:1–2:3 works against Kline’s interpretation because the creation account provides no evidence that God worked exclusively in this week through ordinary providence. In fact, the evidence is to the contrary. In Gen 1:2, the Spirit’s presence over the surface of the deep pictures his provisions for the creation. On Day 3 (vv. 9–13), the only works described are those of extraordinary providence. By divine fiat, the waters of the earth are gathered into one place, the dry land appears, and the earth produces full-grown plants along with its seed and fruit trees with seed in its fruit. The formation of man and woman on Day 6 (vv. 26–28) also involves God’s miraculous intervention. Therefore, Gen 2:5 does not establish a principle that God exclusively controlled the creation week by ordinary providence. A closer reading of the creation account in Gen 1:1–2:3 reveals that it is more accurate to say that the creation week is governed by extraordinary providence while God is concomitantly establishing the conditions in the created order so that it could begin to operate according to normal providence. Therefore, rather than assuming that the “unargued presupposition” of Gen 2:5 is that normal providence governed the creation period, the context of this verse describes the state of the created order on Day 6 of the creation week when God formed his image bearer to rule on earth as his vice-regent.

With the next post, we will look at the final argument supporting the framework view.

The key, it seems to me, is found in the five verses that follow, which suggest that were Paul to continue to live, his ongoing ministry would benefit the Philippians (vv. 24–25; cf. also “fruitful labor” in v. 22) and, as a result, would benefit Christ (v. 26)—in an even greater way than would his martyrdom (v. 20). They’d be strengthened in their faith and would, therefore, boast in Christ as a result of Paul’s renewed ministry (cf. 2 Cor 1:11 with Phil 1:19, 26). So we might restate what Paul says in v. 21 like this: For to me, to live is gain for you—and, thus for Christ—and, in at least one sense, loss for me (v. 23b), and to die is gain for me and loss for you—and, thus, in at least one sense, for Christ (cf. v. 20b with v. 26). Admittedly, stating it this way isn’t quite as elegant, but I think it captures what Paul is after.

What’s more, while Paul doesn’t quite say it, he gives the impression in vv. 24–26 that he’s chosen to live for the benefit of others rather than to die for his own benefit. This is, in any case, what he’s convinced God has decided. On this reading, then, Paul’s brief autobiographical reflection here plays a vital role in the letter, illustrating one of its central themes: Christians live worthy of the gospel when they, like Christ, put others’ interests before their own (2:4; vv. 5–11). The point of the reflection, then, is pretty clear, even if the logic of v. 21 is a bit compressed: Paul was willing to put others’ gain before his own. And the challenge for us, therefore, lies right on the surface: how can we, who are likewise called to imitate Christ’s selfless sacrifice—his loss, do anything less?

I suppose I should qualify that answer. A church should not switch from (abandon) the KJV to another version of the Bible if it would truly be harmful to the well-being of the church. But it is difficult to imagine there are many instances where this would be the result. Also, obviously, I don’t mean to imply that any church should be compelled by some external authority to make such a change. But I am saying, in general, churches that use the KJV would be better off if they made a purposeful change to a modern version. It would be helpful to both the pastor and members of the church to make the switch.

Why?

I believe there are two main reasons why moving to a modern version is beneficial. The first is the nature of the NT Greek text from which the KJV was translated in 1611. The Greek text behind the KJV is inferior to the editions of the the Greek text available to modern Bible translators. This is not a fault of the translators of the KJV; they simply used the best text available to them at the time. But in the last 400 years things have dramatically improved.

The KJV was translated from what is commonly called the Textus Receptus (TR), which is Latin for “Received Text.” For the first 1500 years of the church, all available copies of Greek NT were handwritten manuscripts, copies of copies of the original writings themselves. Today, there are about 5,800 of these copies, many of which are fragmentary in nature. While these copies of the NT are in general agreement as to what they say, there are differences, mostly minor, among them. But still, no two of these 5,800 manuscripts of any size agree exactly. It is necessary to carefully compare these manuscripts in order to identify the exact words of the original writers.

In the year 1516 the Roman Catholic priest Erasmus of Rotterdam published the first printed Greek NT. Sadly, Erasmus’ text suffered from two primary defects. Because of time constraints, his edition was, as he himself said, “thrown together rather than edited.” As such it contained hundreds of typographical errors, some of which have been perpetuated down to our day. But more problematic was the limited amount of manuscripts evidence available to Erasmus. While 5,800 manuscripts are known to exist today, only a few were available in Erasmus’ time. In fact, he had access to only seven Greek manuscripts, and none of these contained the entire NT. The seven included three copies of the Gospels and Acts, four of the Pauline Epistles, and one incomplete copy (missing the last page) of the book of Revelation. The earliest of any of these is from the 11th century—1000 years later than the original writings.

Whitford, David M., ed. T&T Clark Companion to Reformation Theology. London: T&T Clark, 2012.

This new book edited by David Whitford has a contributors’ list that reads like a Who’s Who of Reformation studies. Numerous scholars have written new essays related to their area of specialization. For example, Robert Kolb has written an essay on Human Nature, the Fall, and the Will. Carl Trueman has contributed the chapter on justification. And Carter Lindberg has written a fascinating essay titled “Sanctification, Works, and Social Justice.” In addition to these, more than a dozen other scholars have contributed chapters to this 500-page volume.

The book begins with a chapter that discusses how to study and write about the Reformation. The author, in this case Whitford, explains that his purpose in this chapter is to “provide…a basic framework for how to write a semester paper or short thesis paper on a Reformation theology topic” (p. 3). This introductory chapter is followed by 18 topical essays that deal with subjects ranging from the doctrine of election, to the sacraments, to “Superstition, Magic, and Witchcraft during and after the Reformation.” As the editor asserts, the list of topics discussed in the work though not exhaustive, is quite comprehensive (p. 3). Unfortunately, the book doesn’t include an index. But because of the way the book is organized, readers should have little problem locating the most relevant discussion of a given topic.

Although topical essays make up the bulk of the book, the volume includes an unusual feature which sets it off from most similar collections of essays. Part two of the book is a 110-page dictionary of terms related to the Reformation. Here entries ranging from the Act of Supremacy (1534) to Zwingli are listed alphabetically, and each term is followed by a one-paragraph explanation of the subject.

While this work is a great addition to Reformation studies, it’s price will probably prevent most potential buyers from taking the plunge to acquire a personal copy. It retails for $175, and at this point it is not available in either paperback or electronic format. Perhaps the publisher is on a mission to make sure students still darken the doors of the academic library from time to time.

Last week, happily, Michael Horton served up a blog post that helped me to organize my vague thoughts. His post was a timely pushback at a trend that has long been evident in the Reformed community but more recently in conservative evangelical and even fundamental Baptist communities—a trend that he calls “reverse legalism.” His argument is that a reverse legalist can sometimes be, ironically, just as legalistic as a regular legalist…but with a twist. Instead of measuring sanctification by multiplying behavioral standards so that he can smugly announce, “I am holier than thou,” the reverse legalist standard measures sanctification by eliminating behavioral standards so that he can announce, with equal smugness, “I am freer than thou.”

The fact is, sanctification is not a matter of competition with other believers. One can become righteous neither by being more restrictive nor more liberated—one becomes righteous by the obedience of Christ. Nor does one become progressively more holy by such means—one becomes progressively holy by mimicking Jesus Christ. Sanctification is at its heart a quest for godliness in all of its communicable forms. And when it comes to our relationships with other believers, its most visible attribute is not one of rivalry but of love.

Our sanctification is adjudicated then, by a “law of liberty” (Jas 2:12), a perplexing idea that seems almost oxymoronic until one understands its beauty. Christian liberty is not realized by adopting a normative principle of conduct (i.e., If the Bible does not condemn it, then I am free); rather, the law of Christ is realized most significantly when I love my neighbor as myself (v. 8).

In a recent Wall Street Journal article, Peter Berkowitz observes:

Most astonishing and most revealing is the neglect of The Federalist by graduate schools and law schools. The political science departments at Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Stanford and Berkeley—which set the tone for higher education throughout the nation and train many of the next generation’s professors—do not require candidates for the Ph.D. to study The Federalist.

I think there may be a parallel with the Preface to the King James Version, The Translators to the Reader. If one wishes to understand the KJV, the purposes and intents of the translators themselves, the Preface is the authoritative source. And what it reveals is the exact opposite of the claims made for the KJV by those in the KJV-only movement. The KJV-only position argues that only the KJV is the perfect Word of God without any error. It is no wonder, then, that KJV-only advocates purposely avoid the Preface since it is an embarrassment to their false claims.

Some have taken exception to my use of the word embarrassment in my previous posts concerning the Preface. But surely it’s embarrassing to claim something about a document that the very words of the document itself contradict. Some who have commented on my posts have argued that I should not use the word because I can’t point to any KJV-only advocate who admits being embarrassed by the Preface. Well, naturally, what do you expect? To admit that they are embarrassed by the words of the Preface would be in effect to admit that they are wrong about their KJV-only position.

The framework view asserts that the creation “week” of Genesis 1:1–2:3 is a literary device intended to present God’s creative activity in a topical, non-sequential manner, rather than a literal, sequential one. Kline and others support the framework theory with three primary arguments. First, advocates of this position contend that the figurative nature of the creation account demonstrates that it is arranged topically rather than chronologically. Second, it is further asserted that ordinary providence governed the creation account. Third, this view maintains that that the unending nature of the seventh day indicates that the six days of the creation week are not normal days.

In this post and two subsequent ones, I will critique the framework view. With this entry I will briefly outline the first thesis and then follow with an evaluation. In following posts, I will examine the other two theses.

The Literary Nature of the Creation Account — The framework interpretation argues that God uses the imagery of an ordinary week to serve as a rhetorical structure for God’s acts of creation. Using the literary metaphor of a “week,” the author of Genesis uses something of a semi-poetic account, where Days 1–3 find a parallel in Days 4–6. Both triads are subordinate to God’s eternal Sabbath rest on the seventh day. Framework advocates use the following chart to explain this scheme.