missionary musings

Reflections on the Qur'an

2020-08-04T19:58:00.004+03:00

I read through the Qur'an on my recent academic leave. Since then, I've had a number of friends ask for my thoughts and reflections on it. Clearly there is more that could be said, but I thought I'd share in this post a few reflections that were the specific focus of my seminary assignment. While I cannot say that I "enjoyed" the reading, I did find it fascinating to learn for myself what is and isn't in this book that western society has so many stereotypes and misconceptions about.

What follows is a series of reflections on the Qur'an, particularly focusing on the development of a few key themes and comparing the different chronological sura (chapter) groupings to one another, as well as some passing observations regarding similarities to biblical genres. For those who are not aware, the suras in the Qur'an are not laid out chronologically, but generally by descending size (longer to shorter). Thus, reading according to chronological order gives a very different impression.

1. Introduction

In this essay I shall share some brief personal reflections on the Qur’an according to the four chronological groupings given by Theodor Noldeke. These reflections will of necessity offer only a superficial analysis and comparison due to their brevity. Nevertheless, we shall highlight some key areas of differentiation and the development of particular themes across the four groupings. These will be broken into the first, second and third Meccan suras and finally the Medinan suras.

2. First Meccan Suras

We are immediately struck by the heavy focus on eschatological judgment. Overall, the horrors of hell are described with more vivid detail than the delights of paradise. One point of interest in the description of paradise is the mention of nubile virgins. This particular description is absent in the later suras. Presumably, this change could be explained by the increase of more female followers. One might be warranted in underscoring final judgment as the primary motif of the first Meccan suras.

In connection with judgment, one’s attention is drawn to note the ethical requirements on which judgment is based. Beyond the requirement of faith itself in God and the final judgment, the vast majority of ethical requirements in this grouping have to do with caring for the needy and practicing charity. Connected with this is a condemnation of living in luxury and hoarding wealth. There are very scarce mentions of the other obligations which appear in later groupings, particularly the Medinan suras. Notably, 'ritual' obligations (having to do with external purity, clothing, foods, etc.) are entirely absent at this stage. Prayer is mentioned as a mark of piety but there are no detailed instructions regarding its performance. Forgiveness is mentioned infrequently compared to later suras and seemingly available only for less serious sins.

Also absent in the first grouping of suras is any real interaction with the 'People of the Book', i.e., Jews and Christians. Muhammad is compared with Moses as a similar example of a reject prophet. However, the Children of Israel are not directly mentioned and there is no real interaction with Jewish or Christian positions. This becomes prevalent in later suras. The primary interaction with non-Muslim worldviews seems to be with the pagans of Mecca.

The overall style of these suras strikes us as rather abrupt which fits with the heavy eschatological warnings. If one were to attempt a comparison with biblical literature, the first Meccan suras would likely be closest in style and content to some passages warning of impending judgment in the prophetic books as well as potentially some similarly themed sayings of Jesus.

3. Second Meccan Suras

This grouping of suras represents a significant shift in both content and style from the first Meccan grouping. One can understand why the charge was brought against Muhammad by some in Mecca (sura 16:103) that he was taught the content by a foreigner (presumably, a Jew is implied). The content of the second Meccan as well as the third Meccan suras shows a deep familiarity with the narratives of the Old Testament, though a number of details are either added or changed in comparison with the biblical accounts. In a few instances, more details or corrections to previous suras are added with the progression of time. For example, the identity of the woman left behind in the story of Lot is updated from just an 'old woman' to his wife as in the biblical account. This sura grouping shows most similarity with the third Meccan suras. Differences between the two are less stark than between either of them and the first Meccan or Medinan suras.

Another point of interest is the presentation of the Qur’an itself in the chronological development of the suras. While the Qur’an is presented as being a message from God throughout, the second Meccan suras add some details which are not mentioned in the first grouping. The Qur’an is stated to be easy to learn from with emphasis on the fact that is was given in Arabic—a fact not emphasized in the first Meccan grouping. Also newly introduced is the concept that no one could produce anything like the Qur’an. This statement is repeated and strengthened in later groupings. The second Meccan suras contain first mention of the gradual nature of revelation of the Qur’an (sura 25:32). This seems to be setting the stage for the doctrine of abrogation more fully developed in later groupings.

The second Meccan suras also see a notable shift in the focus of judgment. While the first grouping spoke of God’s judgement on the wicked in almost entirely future eschatological terms, this grouping puts much more emphasis on past temporal judgments of God brought upon those peoples who rejected the prophets sent to them. It is also notable that the balance of description of eschatological judgment shifts to more detailed description of paradise and less of hell as compared with the first grouping.

Overall this grouping engages much more with the Scriptures of the People of the Book, though engagement with Old Testament material is more prevalent than with the New Testament. The second Meccan suras also introduce direct address to the children of Israel. It is notable that this grouping employs more rational argumentation against pagan beliefs as compared to the blunt condemnation characteristic of the first grouping. This approach of a more apologetic engagement is continued in later groupings as well, particularly the third grouping. It remains present in the Medinan suras though the shift there turns more towards polemics and an attempt to safeguard the Islamic community and belief.

4. Third Meccan Suras

This grouping finds most similarity with the second Meccan suras. Likely in connection with their heavy drawing from the Old Testament, both also further develop a doctrine of creation, angels, devils and Satan. There are many details which align with the biblical narratives, though significant differences also exist (e.g., the absence of any 'image of God' language in the creation of humans).

This grouping further develops the idea that belief in God is rational. It uses much argumentation from creation, and engages in a number of analogies. The rational argumentation in this grouping can be observed, for example, when Muhammad addresses the unbelievers: 'Have you ever thought, what if this revelation really is from God and you still reject it?' (sura 41:52). This seems to approximate an argument like Pascal’s wager. Additionally, Muslims are called to engage in argument with courteousness and use reason rather than resort to any compulsion.

The Qur’an is described as using illustrations to make truth clear. It is said to be unassailable. This grouping further develops the idea that the Qur’an and its suras could not be replicated, that its revelation is itself a miracle. The Qur’an is said to be a confirmation and explanation of previous Scriptures and to be the most beautiful of teachings. This lays the groundwork for the teaching more fully developed in the Medinan suras that the Qur’an actually supersedes previous Scriptures, though the Meccan suras do not yet claim this. Additionally, it is in this grouping that the doctrine of abrogation is explicitly developed (sura 16:101).

This grouping expands the ethical requirements to include the 'ritual' cleanliness rules and lays out some dietary halal restrictions which are further elaborated in the Medinan suras. It also records the first mentions of Muslim apostasy and direct persecution of Muslims. As the community grew and developed into more of a political power heading towards an outright conflict with the Meccans, this seems a natural development.

Overall this grouping, as well as the second, contrasts rather strongly with the first Meccan and Medinan suras. The approach is one of rational arguments, presumably hoping to win over those yet unconvinced. In contrast, the first Meccan suras attempt to convince primarily through fear of eschatological judgment and the Medinan suras seem more concerned with drawing lines and safeguarding the Muslim community. The style and content of both the second and third groupings is reminiscent of biblical passages in the narrative genre, drawing particularly from Genesis and the first part of Exodus. In addition, the more strongly prosaic form of the second and third Meccan sura seems to stand in contrast with the more abrupt and even poetic forms of the first Meccan suras. Perhaps this shift could even be seen as a reaction to the accusations of the Meccans that Muhammad was merely a poet. Likely in conjunction with this, the second and third Meccan suras are, on average, much longer than those of the first grouping.

5. Medinan Suras

The final grouping of suras are from a significantly different period in the development of the Muslim community. In contrast to being a rejected prophet with some followers, Muhammad is now a full-fledged political and military leader. Thus, it is unsurprising to find much more focus in the Medinan suras on matters both legislative and military. This means that, among biblical literature, it is more similar to the legal codices in the Pentateuch and possibly the book of Joshua.

This grouping shifts to a much more hostile approach towards the People of the Book, particularly the Jews. It is said that all but a few of the People of the Book are actually just unbelievers and hypocrites. There is much more direct address to the People of the Book in these suras as well as interaction with specific arguments and teachings, particularly with Christian teachings mostly absent in the previous groupings. There is much more awareness of Christian conceptions of Jesus, though it is clear that the Qur’anic understanding of the Trinity is not an accurate representation of historic Christian orthodoxy.

There is much attention given to ritual cleanliness laws, including dietary restrictions and allowances, as well as cleanliness or defilement connected with various states of bodily discharge (menstruation, etc.). This grouping also has much attention given to family law surrounding divorce, inheritance, adoption, etc. While the ethical requirements of charity and honesty found in previous groupings are still present, they take up much less focus than the other ritual and legislative issues.

Another very clear contrast with previous groupings is the frequent mention of striving for the cause of God (jihad) as a mark of righteousness. As Muhammad had now gone from being merely a persecuted prophet to a military leader, this shift of focus is expected. Connected to this is the frequent theme of condemning Muslim hypocrites who refuse to fight for the sake of God. Together with the more polemic approach to the People of the Book, the tone of the Medinan suras is notably more aggressive overall than the second and third Meccan suras.

Finally, the Medinan suras present a much closer association of God with Muhammad. 'Obey God and the Messenger (Muhammad)' is a frequent refrain. It is also significant that the Qur’an is said to have final authority over previous Scriptures. In addition, this grouping lays out exceptions for Muhammad from regular rules—notably regarding the allowed number of wives, normally capped at four. One gets the distinct impression that political and military power did for Muhammad what it has done for too many in the history of the world: caused him to make himself an exception to the rules and set himself on a pedestal.

6. Conclusion

I am very aware of the cursory nature of these reflections and could wish that more might be written. Nevertheless, the preceding reflections have served to highlight a few areas of difference and development of themes across the chronological groupings of suras. I have found reading the Qur’an chronologically to be of great benefit in understanding how its teaching developed over time. In this way, the reading more closely approximates a cover-to-cover reading of the Bible which, with some exceptions, is laid out in a more chronological order of progression.

When God’s Sovereignty Is Not Enough

2020-06-26T17:13:00.000+03:00

When God’s Sovereignty Is Not Enough

BENJAMIN MORRISON | APRIL 27, 2020

Over the last days and weeks, I’ve seen post after post from Christian friends and pastors on social media about God being in control of the current pandemic. But I’ve also seen varied responses to these posts. One response that particularly stuck out to me was, “How can you say God is controlling this? This is evil!” A statement about God’s sovereignty that was meant to provide comfort had the opposite effect for this commenter. They were distraught over the idea that this tragedy in the world right now is controlled by God.

Of course, the Bible does teach that God is in control of every detail of history. Both seasons of rejoicing and times of suffering are in His hand. Times of peace and war, economic prosperity and market crashes, medical breakthroughs and plagues—none of these escape His rule. But this doctrine of God’s sovereignty, if it stands alone, is not necessarily a source of comfort. One can appreciate how an unbeliever might even prefer the idea that this pandemic is the result of “random chance” to the idea that an all-powerful God is controlling it. “What kind of a God,” he or she might indignantly wonder, “would that be?”

WHO SITS ON THE THRONE

Whether God’s sovereignty over suffering is comforting or not depends entirely on the character of that God. After all, Christianity is not the only religion to assert belief in a sovereign God. Islam makes the same claim. The doctrine of God’s sovereignty might be cold comfort to those who are fearful and suffering right now if there is no assurance of God’s compassion and goodness alongside it.

THE DOCTRINE OF GOD’S SOVEREIGNTY MIGHT BE COLD COMFORT TO THOSE WHO ARE FEARFUL AND SUFFERING RIGHT NOW IF THERE IS NO ASSURANCE OF GOD’S COMPASSION AND GOODNESS ALONGSIDE IT.

Job was just such a sufferer. When reading his complaints and responses to his friends, it is clear that Job does not doubt God’s sovereignty in the slightest. He has lost all he has and now suffers a horrible disease—and it was no accident. Job knows: God is in control. But at the same time, Job questions God’s goodness and fairness in the whole thing. For Job, as for some today, God’s sovereignty over his suffering is a reason for indignation, not a source of comfort.

What Job failed to see was the compassion and goodness of God in the midst of his suffering. As we seek to minister to people in this crisis, we must not forget to present God’s sovereignty together with His compassion if it is to comfort them. The God who controls the disasters of the world is the same God who entered into our suffering. He is not aloof, sending plagues and suffering while remaining impervious to them. In the words of Dorothy Sayers, “[God] had the honesty and courage to take his own medicine.”

AS WE SEEK TO MINISTER TO PEOPLE IN THIS CRISIS, WE MUST NOT FORGET TO PRESENT GOD’S SOVEREIGNTY TOGETHER WITH HIS COMPASSION IF IT IS TO COMFORT THEM.

Jesus Christ came and willingly made Himself susceptible to worse suffering than any of us will ever know. He went through the pain of prayer unanswered. The Father declined to rescue Him from torture and death. He felt the full weight of rejection and wrath in paying for our sins. This is why Scripture says that He is a compassionate High Priest: He felt the same pain we feel—and more. And the God who has gone through intense suffering himself will not be indifferent to the suffering of others.

Moreover, His suffering was not for nothing. Christ ultimately conquered death and rose from the grave. This is the dynamic of the gospel: God can bring from suffering a greater good than could be imagined. From death comes life and glory. The world does not need a false message about a God who is above suffering or whose only purpose is to help us avoid it. Rather, the message that the suffering God who brings glory out of death is the same God who is in control of all the hardships we are enduring today—that is a message of comfort and hope.

PREACHING TO A BRUISED WORLD

This has important pastoral implications. It seems unlikely that any pastor with even a smattering of experience would attempt to comfort a suffering individual merely with the affirmation of God’s sovereignty. “Well, God is in control,” is not the stark opening statement you tell parents who have just lost their child to the ravages of disease or a person who has suffered abuse or trauma. We (hopefully) know better. Yes, we get there eventually, and there is great comfort in God’s sovereignty when we have a well-rounded understanding of who God is, but that understanding must not be assumed and taken for granted.

In sermons, we usually take more care to present God’s sovereignty in a fuller context of His character and love. But here’s what we need to realize: social media is a pulpit. More often than not, the words we post as pastors will inevitably be taken as “pastoral statements” simply by virtue of our position. Especially for those in public ministry, we need to weigh our posts as we would a sermon—or at least an announcement—in front of the church and the world. Because that’s who we’re tweeting and posting to: everyone.

The world does need the voice of the church now. The world is suffering collectively in multiple ways. It needs to hear soul-nourishing, gospel-saturated truth. But let’s make sure we present a full picture that includes both the sovereignty and the compassion of God—both His throne and His cross. The last thing the world needs right now is a bunch of @bildads (one of Job’s friends) tweeting partial truths that only serve to crush the many bruised reeds who are reading.

This article was originally published at Redeemer City to City here.

A Look at Authorial Intent in the Bible

2019-06-07T05:17:00.000+03:00

by Benjamin Morrison

There’s a joke that Christians here in Ukraine like to tell. One day, a pastor goes to visit a class in the children’s ministry at his church. He’s trying to break the ice with the small children and decides to play a guessing game. “Kids, who can tell me what lives in the forest, has pointy ears, a big bushy tail and climbs trees?” The children are awkwardly silent, afraid to answer. Then finally one brave, young boy raises his hand. “Well, I know the right answer is ‘Jesus’, but it sure sounds a lot like a squirrel.”

I lead preaching labs with City to City Ukraine. Our goal is to help preachers craft Gospel-centered sermons. Sometimes I run into a question much like the joke above. “What if all I see in the passage is a ‘squirrel’?" What if that’s all the writer saw? If Christ isn’t mentioned in the passage, aren’t we twisting the meaning of Scripture if we read Him in? Aren’t we supposed to be directed by the author’s original intent?” The desire to avoid reading something into the text that’s not there is a good one. We should be on guard against it. But is that what a Christ-centered approach to Scripture is doing? Or, on the contrary, do we have a biblical mandate to search for Christ in passages that don’t directly mention Him?

THE DIVINE AUTHORSHIP OF SCRIPTURE

Whenever we approach a passage of Scripture, we always come at it with a specific set of assumptions. None of us is free from our own tradition or culture. But hopefully, we are open to refining our assumptions based on what we find in Scripture. For example, Scripture itself tells us that it is God-breathed (2 Timothy 3:16). So we approach Scripture with the understanding that it is not merely the words of men, but also the Word of God. New Testament scholar Vern Poythress writes, “Whether or not they were perfectly self-conscious about it, the human authors [of Scripture] intended that their words should be received as words of the Spirit.”1 That means Scripture’s meaning is not defined solely by the human author’s intent. In fact, that approach is actually ignoring their intent, because they intended us to understand their words as being words from God. To agree with the intent of the human authors, we must recognize their words as more than the product of those authors.

ONE PASSAGE, TWO AUTHORS

Every passage of Scripture has not one author, but two: the human author and the divine Author. So to understand the full meaning of a passage, we must ask not only what the human author’s original intent was, but also what God’s intent was. Some people argue that the intent of the human author and the divine Author must be identical. Walter Kaiser is one such scholar. He writes, “The Bible can have one and only one correct interpretation and that meaning must be determined by the human author's [intent].”2 Kaiser is trying to make sure that we don’t read our own ideas into the text. That’s a right and admirable goal. And though his approach might safeguard us against fanciful additions, it’s over-simplified. Scripture does not give us grounds to make a one-to-one correlation between human authorial intent and divine authorial intent.

First, there are biblical examples that contradict this over-simplification. There are passages where God has an intention that the human writer didn’t understand. One of the clearest examples is Daniel. Daniel is faithful to record the visions God gives him. But he explicitly states that he did not understand their meaning (Daniel 8:27;12:8-9, etc.). Sometimes Daniel gets an explanation, sometimes not. And even when there is an explanation, Daniel says he still doesn’t understand what God means in these words. These examples show without a doubt that God’s intention in Scripture sometimes goes beyond the human author’s intention.

It’s also worth considering how the New Testament authors use the Old Testament. For example, Matthew quotes a line out of Hosea 11, “Out of Egypt I called my son” (Matthew 2:15). Matthew goes on to tell us that this is actually fulfilled in Jesus being taken to Egypt and then returning after the death of Herod. In other words, the full meaning of this phrase is found in Christ. But in Hosea, there’s not even the slightest hint that this phrase has anything to do with Jesus. It’s actually used to describe how God historically brought Israel out of Egyptian slavery. And yet, Matthew tells us that this phrase was ultimately intended to point toward Christ. And we don’t get to argue, because Matthew is Scripture too. When Hosea wrote these words, it seems highly unlikely that he was thinking about Jesus. But the New Testament shows us that this Christ-centered meaning was part of the divine intention. The full meaning here, as in all Scripture, is found in its reference to Christ.

This brings up another interesting question: Where should we get our model of Bible interpretation? Ironically, sometimes those who would call us to faithful Bible interpretation ignore the New Testament’s own model of interpretation. Usually by “faithful interpretation” they mean a strictly grammatical-historical approach that acknowledges only the human author’s intent. But as we’ve seen, the New Testament authors approached Scripture with an understanding of the divine authorial intent that at times goes beyond the human author’s intent. They also understood the divine intent to be ultimately Christocentric. So if we really want to be faithful to the Bible, we must use the Bible’s own interpretive model. We cannot neglect the overarching, Christ-centered divine intent.

WHAT WE SHOULD LOOK FOR

None of this is to say that the human authorial intent can or should be abandoned. On the contrary, God’s intended meaning cannot contradict the human authorial intent. If it could, this would be a mystical approach to Scripture where we just import our own preferred ideas and the human author’s words mean nothing. Let’s be clear: There is no genuine divine meaning which would contradict the human authorial intent. But that also doesn’t mean it stops with the human intent.

On the other hand, as we’ve seen, Scripture supports the idea of a divine meaning which the human author doesn’t always fully understand. In this sense, the term “grammatical-historical plus” used by professor E. Earle Ellis to describe the New Testament authors’ interpretive model is fitting. The fuller meaning of Scripture is just that: fuller than mere human intent, but never contradictory to it. God may intend more than the human author does, but never less and never at odds with the human author’s intent.

The authors of the New Testament use Old Testament Scripture, understanding that the goal of the divine intent in any passage is Christ Himself. The meaning of a passage cannot be detached from the overall revelation of Scripture which culminates in and centers on Christ Himself. He is the ultimate and final revelation of God (Hebrews 1:1-2). Jesus points this out in his rebuke of the Pharisees, saying, “You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me” (John 5:39). Christ is the eternal Word of God. He is the ultimate goal of the divine intent in revelation. As we study the Scriptures, both for ourselves and in preparing sermons for our churches, may our eyes be open to the fullness of God’s intent in pointing us to Christ in every passage.

Notes:

1 Vern Poythress, "Divine Meaning of Scripture".
2 Walter Kaiser, quoted in Jared Compton, "Shared Intentions? Reflections on Inspiration and Interpretation in Light of Scripture’s Dual Authorship".

This article was first posted at: https://calvarychapel.com/posts/a-look-at-authorial-intent-in-the-bible

Review: The Household of God: Lectures on the Nature of Church

2018-07-21T13:50:00.000+03:00

The Household of God: Lectures on the Nature of Church by Lesslie Newbigin
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I greatly enjoyed this series of lectures by Newbigin later turned into a book (and one of his first) on the nature of the church. His primary foci are the unity of the church and its missionary nature. Newbigin makes strong arguments for the necessity of the unity of Christians as being an outgrowth of the Church's missionary task (a la Jn. 17). He takes a very interesting approach to the various emphases in differing Christian traditions, breaking things down into the Catholic (in which likely the Orthodox approach would also be implied), the classic Protestant, and the Pentecostal categories as emphasizing authoritative community, doctrinal teaching, and spiritual encounter respectively. While I cannot go as far with the ecumenical argument as Newbigin seems comfortable with going (one should not forget that he wrote these lectures in the 1950's), there is much that is positive to consider in his words. His argument that neglecting any one element (community, doctrine or Spirit) is devastating to the church and thus there is need to evaluate our own tradition (whatever it may be) in light of the others is on point.

At the root of this call to unity is the missionary nature of the Church. He quotes Brunner saying "The Church lives by mission as fire lives by burning." While Newbigin does give the caveat that the church does not exist only for mission, he sharply and rightly critiques the western church that too often (especially at that time) sees mission as merely a ministry department rather than vital to the nature of the church in the world. His thinking in this regard has been foundational for much of the more recent (and fortunate) turn towards the nature of the church as a missional community. While this was not my favorite book by Newbigin (that place would go to either "The Gospel in a Pluralist Society" or "The Open Secret"—both better choices for an intro to Newbigin than this work), it is certainly packed full of much needed insights.

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Review: That Hideous Strength

2018-04-22T22:05:00.000+03:00

That Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This final volume of Lewis's space trilogy was very different than the other two. To begin with, it was longer than both the first two combined. This is certainly connected with the fact that the pacing of the story was significantly slower than the first two volumes. In fact, it wasn't till around page 300 that some of the more extreme fantastic element began to show up. What it did have going for it was an incredibly insightful analysis of some fairly typical characters and what motivates them. This kind of raw and honest analysis that we would like to admit is not true of ourselves was present in the other books. However, here Lewis works it over. While I did very much enjoy the book (especially near the end), the pacing was a bit too slow for me. All the minute details of the life of a college don—something Lewis knew about intimately—lost their quirky attraction after the first 100 pages. That to say, it's hardly feasible to think of reading the first two books and not finishing out the trilogy, but this was my least favorite of all three (but still a pretty great book).

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A Brief Review of James K.A. Smith’s Desiring the Kingdom

2018-02-21T23:36:00.000+02:00

For a book whose conclusions I didn’t ultimately agree with, I deeply enjoyed this work. Desiring the Kingdom offers abundant grist for the mill, pulling from a rich variety of sources. With deep and insightful consideration and commentary on current cultural idols, it argues how a rich and well-formed ecclesiology might fight against them. It’s one of those books where I’ve filled ample margin space with my own replies or counterpoints to the arguments made. The best kind of book is the one that makes you think deeply, even if (and often because) you don’t agree with everything it says.

On the downside, Smith tends to be repetitive at times. This might be forgiven as his attempt to convey an approach to Christian worship which is foreign to too many Christians. He as much as states in the book that repetition is powerful, so maybe he intentionally employed his own theory in the writing? That said, despite the repetition, this is an academic book and the layman who is not a philosophy or theology student will likely find it somewhat hard to follow. He takes apart Enlightenment anthropology (justly so) and follows upon Charles Taylor’s anthropology closely. Smith has also written a somewhat more accessible version of this book for a broader audience called You Are What You Love, though some friends have told me it’s also not a simple read.

A Summary
To summarize briefly, Smith’s main ideas are the following:

1) We are primarily worshiping animals more than cognitive beings (i.e., “you are what you love”).
2) These desires are aimed at a particular end, though which end is not always explicit or clear even to us, the worshipers. The end/telos Smith refers to as the particular vision of the “kingdom” one desires, hence the title.
3) These desires are formed through habit, particularly physical, non-cognitive habits that impart an implicit vision of the “kingdom”. These habits are imposed on us not only in Christian worship, but in the culture around us. These Smith refers to as “cultural liturgies”.
4) Smith advocates a return to a more holistic ecclesiological practice (read high-liturgical) that he is sure will impart said vision for the Kingdom of God over time.

Deconstructing and Overcorrecting Descartes
Let me start with what I think are the important take aways. First, Christianity is more about what you love than what you think. Here Smith follows in the tradition of Augustine and takes Descartes to task. One might have the right Christian doctrinal ideas and still have a heart that loves something else: a functional idol. Smith does a fantastic job of presenting how the physical practices and habits of modern American culture form our desires without us much thinking about it. His criticism of the “military-entertainment complex” is particularly poignant, especially in the current climate of rising nationalism. It might have been my favorite part of the book. Smith’s proposal to think deeply about and become aware of the implicit visions of the “kingdom” (telos/highest good) presented to us in culture and adopt a more holistic anthropology is worth the price of the book.

That said, I think he oversells his case. While he is right to criticize an Enlightenment approach to Christianity that puts most of the emphasis on the head, I felt he went past the heart in a reactionary stance and put most of the emphasis on the body. To be sure, habits—including physical ones—do play a part in shaping desire that we probably don’t often think about. At the same time, Smith leaves one with the impression in his early arguments that the cognitive does not play much of a role in determining the desires of the heart.

The emphasis on considering desire/love as primary over the rational/cognitive for what determines worship is a valid point. Nevertheless, Smith does not make much of a case (certainly not from Scripture) that the physical plays as much of a role as he claims it does. In my opinion, he makes a needless bifurcation in pinpointing the practices of desire as physical, rather than considering the holistic nature of the human being. The biblical use of the term “heart” (kardia, which Smith also refers to as primary) is neither merely cognitive, nor merely primal/physical. It seems to me that Jonathan Edwards did a much more balanced job of parsing the balance of imagination/heart.

An Overcorrected Ecclesiology
This over-corrective anthropology becomes problematic when Smith arrives at its application for the church. I personally have nothing against a “high liturgical service”—at least one higher than most American Evangelical churches. However, I live in a land where Eastern Orthodoxy is the primary default religion. It’s highly liturgical—possibly in some ways even more so than Roman Catholicism. While Smith is busy touting the praises of the power of this sort of “holistic anthropology” for its power to form desire, I found myself wanting to ask, “Have you spent much time in a society with a high liturgical default church?” The reality is (as many in Europe will know) that man has an incredible ability to go through the motions and have it affect very, very little of his desire. At one point, relegated to a footnote (pg. 167), Smith candidly admits that he believes that “going through the motions” can be a virtue in itself—though not an ideal one. I’m happy to agree that there may be ideas implanted via such practices that can later come around to haunt the lapsed in a good way. Nevertheless, to say that these things are forming “desire” by themselves in a very meaningful way is a bit of a stretch.

I can imagine the argument that most people in historically high-liturgical societies today are too inconsistent to have the effect Smith is claiming they will have. I’d counter that, first, there are still some quite religious countries of this kind around—though it has not led to them being particularly receptive to the Gospel. In fact, one might argue that their high-liturgical performance often becomes a kind of barrier to their reception of deep, biblical truths. Second, Smith alludes to times in church history when liturgical practices were more regular in the life of the community, for example, Italy in the Middle Ages (again relegated to a footnote, pg. 211). My immediate thought was, “This was not a particularly healthy period in church history. Why would we want to go back to that?” Yes, iconoclasm has taken steroids in much of the American evangelical landscape (itself being an overreaction). And while Smith is right to criticize that mistake, surely another overreaction back to the original is not the solution.

The other odd point about his application of the over-corrected anthropology is that his book was, in practice, what he was railing against: a primarily cognitive discourse on the theological meaning of various elements of a traditional, high-liturgical service. In that, he seemed to betray his own hypothesis. The reality is that man is both cognitive and physical. Both are components of desire and work together to form what we might call the imagination. Again, Smith’s attempt at correction of the predominant cognitive-heavy model is valid and to be commended, but it is overdone.

Deconstructing Christian Colleges
There is a very short closing chapter on the implications of this anthropology for the “Christian liberal arts college”. Being a professor at just such a college (Calvin College), this is surely something Smith has much first-hand experience with. The reformation Smith calls for at such institutions looks like something of a mix between a monastery and a seminary—perhaps something L’Abri-esque, though longer-term and slightly more structured. And certainly it would be less transformationalist in leaning. Smith’s counterculture approach to ecclesiology comes off heavy at certain points where he lays into the more Kuyperian approach. Smith quotes Hauerwas heavily, so this is no great surprise (though for his being a professor at Calvin, perhaps it is surprising).

While there are obviously conclusions I disagree with, I did genuinely enjoy the book and found myself not being able to put it down at times for all the stimulating debate it produced in my thinking. This is also part one of a three part series on cultural liturgies, the final volume of which just came out in 2017. I’m looking forward to engaging further with Smith’s thought in the next two volumes.

The Role of the Gospel in the Believer's Life

2017-12-11T21:45:00.001+02:00

After the sermon, a man came up to let me know he wasn’t happy with what he had heard. He didn’t put it quite that bluntly, but it was all over his furled brow and panicked expression. “So what did you think about the sermon?” I asked with a smile, “There was too much grace!” he said indignantly. It’s one of those complaints that you do your hardest not to laugh at because you actually take it as a compliment. Martyn Lloyd-Jones writes in his commentary on Romans 6:

There is no better test as to whether a man is really preaching the New Testament gospel of salvation than this, that some people might misunderstand it and misinterpret it to mean that it really amounts to this, that because you are saved by grace alone it does not matter at all what you do; you can go on sinning as much as you like because it will redound all the more to the glory of grace. This is a very good test of gospel preaching. If my preaching and presentation of the gospel of salvation does not expose it to that misunderstanding, then it is not the gospel.¹

Lloyd-Jones’ point is that this kind of criticism is actually a sign that we are preaching the Gospel rightly. That has been the case since the days of Paul the Apostle (see Romans 6). Reactions like this, however, are all too common among Christians. I believe that there are two things at play here. The first is a misunderstanding of the role of the Gospel in a believer’s life after conversion. The second is a misdirected, even if well intentioned, concern about the abuse of grace and permissiveness toward sin in the life of the believer, in other words, an unfounded fear of antinomianism.

The Role of the Gospel in the Believer’s Life

Many Christians seem to believe that the Gospel is really only for unbelievers. The Gospel is seen as the entryway into relationship with God, but then once it has served its purpose, it should be set aside for “more advanced things.” Sure, we might pull the Gospel from the shelf every now and again if we sin and feel the need for forgiveness, but that’s about it. For many Christians, this is the extent of the Gospel’s role after initial conversion. This couldn’t be further from the biblical picture of the role of the Gospel in the Christian’s life. The Gospel is not merely a push start for the Christian life; it is the foundation for the Christian life from beginning to end. The Gospel is just as vital for growth and sanctification as it is for initial justification. In other words, the Gospel is for believers just as much as it is for unbelievers.

Paul writes in Romans 1, “I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation…” The problem is that we normally read this as if it said, “the gospel… is the power of God for justification.” But the term “salvation” in Scripture refers not only to the initial act of God in justifying us through faith in Christ. It also refers to our sanctification and ultimately our glorification together with Christ. Salvation covers all these aspects. That means the Gospel is also the power for sanctification, not merely for justification. It is the power to transform, not just the power to pardon. Unfortunately, we sometimes bifurcate the work of salvation and act as though justification is God’s work, and sanctification is ours. We act as though the Gospel has importance for the first, but means almost nothing for the second. But the Gospel is the power for the whole of salvation.

In some circles, we tend to look at the Gospel as the means for justification, and the Holy Spirit as the means for sanctification. This is a false division on two levels. First, while Christ is the Lamb of God who was sacrificed for us, it is only the Spirit who applies this work to our hearts in justifying and regenerating us (Titus 3:5). Second, we would do well to remember the statements of Christ about the Spirit’s work. “But when the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, he will bear witness about me” (John 15:26). The Spirit does indeed work sanctification in our lives, described (among other ways) as “the fruit of the Spirit.” However, the means He uses to produce that fruit is to continually point us to Christ, to the Gospel. It is not a contest between the Holy Spirit or the Gospel—which one will hold the title of being the source of the “power of God” for sanctification. Rather, the Spirit powerfully transforms us by pointing us ever more clearly to the Gospel.

Too Much Grace?

To return to the original complaint I mentioned, it brings up a valid question: Is there such a thing as too much grace? There are some who would say “yes”—like the man who approached me after the sermon. The argument goes that if we too strongly emphasize that our salvation is completely secure by grace, not dependent on anything we do but solely on what Jesus has done for us, that this will give people license to dive headlong into all kinds of sin.

We must admit that there are certainly those calling themselves Christians for whom grace is just an excuse to continue living for self and sin. But these are likely people who have never seen the costliness of grace, never been amazed by its beauty. Yes, God’s grace is free for us, but it comes to us at the cost of His only Son, flowing from His wounds. For the abuser of grace, it is just a philosophical concept broken off from the suffering of Christ. This person’s concept of grace is superficial at best. In other words, their problem is not too much grace, but too little.

For the abuser of grace, it is just a philosophical concept broken off from the suffering of Christ. This person’s concept of grace is superficial at best. In other words, their problem is not too much grace, but too little.

It would be overly simple to say that all such people in brazen sin are not actually Christians. There are surely some Christians who find their way to this miserable state. Is “too much grace” to blame? Likely the opposite. What happens is that the Christian doesn’t see the beauty and depths of the Gospel, does not delight in the richness of the grace provided through the cross. Instead, they labor under a latent fear and insecurity and so wear themselves out trying to sanctify themselves in the power of their own will. Some simply give up in despair after a time. Again, the problem is not that they need less grace, but more grace!

The moralist would argue that too much grace is dangerous. However, the only motive he offers as a replacement is fear. Yes, one can certainly scare a Christian into a life of busyness via threats of judgment. But while this might make a busy, religious person, it will never make a worshiper. That person’s heart might keep rules and stay busy out of fear, but it will not love and delight in God. It cannot. God is only a dark threat on the horizon of such a heart, rather than a faithful father. Any diminishing of grace creates in us the fear-based mentality of a slave. But Paul writes, “You did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, 'Abba! Father!'” (Romans 8:15).

In stark contrast to the moralist’s argument, seeing the fullness and beauty of grace is the only thing that can cause us to enjoy Christ and happily pour out our lives for Him. Focusing on God’s abundant, unbridled goodness rather than our efforts is exactly what inspires love and fuels sanctification for the sake of the One who loves us so well. Any “change” without this motive is mere fleshly self-improvement. It is only the Gospel of grace, applied by the Spirit, which is the power of God unto sanctification. The puritan writer Thomas Chalmers summed it up well in his sermon The Expulsive Power of a New Affection:

The freer the Gospel, the more sanctifying is the Gospel; and the more it is received as a doctrine of grace, the more will it be felt as a doctrine [leading] to godliness… That very peculiarity which so many dread as the germ of antinomianism, is, in fact, the germ of a new spirit, and a new inclination against it… Never does the sinner find within himself so mighty a moral transformation, as when under the belief that he is saved by grace, he feels constrained thereby to offer his heart a devoted thing, and to deny ungodliness.²

If we are living half-heartedly as Christians, toying with sin, not really growing in sanctification, the answer is not less grace, but more.

¹ Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Romans: An Exposition of Chapter 6, pp. 8-9.
²Thomas Chalmers, The Expulsive Power of a New Affection, p. 10, accessed on October 10, 2017.

This article was originally published on calvarychapel.com.

"Can I Be Gay and Be a Christian?"

2016-03-09T23:47:00.001+02:00

This is a question that a friend of mine asked me not long ago. That friend happens to be a Christian and struggles with same-sex attraction, so I knew this question was not asked out of a desire for theological debate, but from a place of deep personal turmoil. Back in the 90's during Bill Clinton's scandal with Monica Lewinski, in answer to a grand jury question about whether there "is no sex of any kind" between himself and Ms. Lewisnki as his legal counsel had stated, then-president Clinton famously answered, "That depends on what the meaning of the word 'is' is." Of course, that was a cop-out, a lawyer's trick to hide his guilt. But regarding my friend's question, the answer really does depend on what your definition of "to be" is.

Here's the problem: western culture tells people that if they experience a sexual attraction towards the same sex that they "are gay" (or at least bi-sexual, queer, etc.). Modern society defines a person's identity based on their feelings—especially sexual feelings—however consistent or inconsistent those feelings may be. The sad part is that the Christian Church has pretty much swallowed this definition without thinking twice. We have taken up secular culture's belief that what we "feel" is the truest part of who we are. So my response to my friend who asked me this question was that, just because you experience same-sex attraction, that doesn't mean you "are gay". You have the wrong definition of "is".

The book of James states, "...each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death." (Jas. 1:14-15) We have bought into the current lie that to feel is to be, that our feelings define us. But do they? And if so, which feelings define us? After all, we feel many conflicting things throughout the day: from a desire to murder our jerk-of-a-boss (perhaps multiple times over) to a desire to sacrifice our own comfort and resources in order to help someone who is down on their luck. But how can these conflicting feelings simultaneously define who we are? Perhaps James has greater insight than we imagine when he relegates our feelings to simply this: a choice that is set before us, a temptation.

The story of Christ's life also tells us that He was tempted to abandon the Father's plan and short-cut His way to glory. In the desert when He had not eaten for forty days and Satan came tempting Him to turn stones to bread, surely He "felt an attraction" to that option. After all, He was not only the Son of God, but also 100% human and He was hungry! But that's the point of temptation—if there is no attraction, there is no temptation. And yet, temptation is also not the same thing as sin. This is clear from the life of the Savior who, though He was tempted in every way as we are, remained sinless. Let me draw the conclusion here as clearly as possible: your temptation does not define you.

Sadly, we Christians have shot ourselves in the foot by adopting the culture's terms and definitions. The Bible says that our identity is not defined by our various temptations, but by our position in Christ. We have been made children of God through faith in the death and resurrection of Jesus. That is the truest thing about us. Will we experience temptations that contradict God's will for our lives? Many. But that does not define us; Christ does.

So in answer to my friend's original question, "Can you be gay and a Christian?", that depends on if you've bought into the culture's definitions or not. If we mean, "Can a person be born-again and experience regular temptation in the form of same-sex attraction?", the answer is, "yes!" In the exact same way, we can be born-again and experience regular temptation towards any number of sins. Homosexuality is not in some completely different category. All sin is sin. Any temptation is temptation. But none of it defines us as Christians. Neither our battles with it, nor even our failures.

Even asking the question in the way my friend did shows that the issue has been muddled for many of us by an unbiblical way of thinking. At first it would seem that the question is about whether we can struggle with a particular sin and still be saved—which, yes, we can and do and will until we see Christ face to face and our entire nature is transformed into His glorious image. But in reality, it is a question of identity, of definition. Can you "be" gay and "be" a Christian? No. That is to say, your primary identity can only be defined by one thing, and that is either by the Son of God who has loved you and made you His own or by the feelings of temptation that your flesh and the devil conspire to tell you is who you are. That's because they want you to doubt who the grace of God has made you—His child. Rooting our identity in sin (of whatever form) is incompatible with our identity in Christ. So for those Christians like my friend who who have felt condemned days without count, for those who have doubted if they can actually be saved because they deal with same-sex attraction—rejoice! It is your temptation, but it is not who you are! The truest thing about you is not the temptation you struggle with—that is just a fading shadow. Rather, your identity is who Jesus has made you by His grace: a child of God. In the words of Paul the Apostle, "So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me." (Rom. 7:17) This is no cop-out. It is a vital recognition of who we are in Christ, regardless of the temptation we struggle with. Our truest self is the one that Jesus has created anew in His own image.

A Rant to the Christian Alarmist

2015-08-17T07:39:00.000+03:00

(Warning: here follows an epic rant...)

I'm more than a little annoyed and vexed by Christians who cite passages like Mt. 24 and list instances of local, insignificant weather phenomena and minor military skirmishes (in the grand scheme of things) and draw the conclusion that this must be the fulfillment of said prophecies about "wars and rumors of war", about "earthquakes and pestilence", about the end of the world, etc.

Consider: The world is bigger than your particular region. Even if you are in a zone where there is some catastrophe, that doesn't mean the sky is falling all over the planet. Additionally, thanks to the advent of the information age and the instant, global availability to know of every little catastrophe, it may seem to you like these things are manifestly more frequent now, when in reality it's only that you now have the ability to know about every corner of the globe immediately whereas you didn't before.

Society (globally) is not "more godless than it ever has been". In fact, it is actually more Christian than it ever has been. Africa was virtually an unreached, pagan continent 150 years ago whereas today the sub-Saharan part is predominately Christian (no comment on the health or sincerity of said Christians, but nevertheless...) China has over 100 million Christians, the majority of which are more sincere than your average "Christian" in lands where Christianity has been the default religion until late, and the Chinese church continues to grow. The countries where the church is growing at the fastest rates are places like Iran, Afghanistan, and the like.

Consider: In the days of the early church, the emperors married their sisters/mothers and also castrated boys and married them as "wives". Prostitution was a duty, pedophilia was acceptable, and literally throwing unwanted babies on the trash heap to be eaten by dogs was standard practice. Are you sure society is "worse than at any point in history"? Consider that the rate of military deaths over the last 15 years is at an all time historical low relative to the world population. Are you sure that "there are more wars/violence than ever"? Lastly, consider the promise of Christ in which He declares "I will build my church and the gates of hell will NOT prevail against it."

Dear Christian, before spewing your next panicky, doomsday rant (on Facebook or anywhere else), consider that the Church is bigger than your particular country and that its history is bigger than your current generation. Consider that the Church has always gone through hardship and persecution and that if you are not in this situation currently, you are the exception, not the rule. Consider that, while modern western culture has plenty of problems, it is certainly not worse than the Roman empire in which the early Church lived and thrived. Consider that, as Tertullian wrote, "The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church," and that the death of lukewarm "Christendom" can only be a good thing. Consider these things and stop your alarmist panicking which makes us all look bad and fails to understand the history of the global Church or take seriously the promises of Christ. Thank you.

End rant.

Anxiety and the Peace of God

2015-05-15T21:04:00.002+03:00

Jesus said a lot of challenging things in the Sermon on the Mount: love your enemies, don't be angry, don't judge, don't lust. But right in the middle of Jesus' most famous discourse, He says what might be the most difficult command of the whole sermon, “Do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” (Mt. 6:34) We are faced with the temptation to anxiety daily if not constantly. To be clear, Jesus is not saying that we should just drop out of school, live moment to moment and not think or plan for the future. That’s not spirituality; it's irresponsibility. Jesus Himself thought about the future, made plans, and yet he did not “worry”. What He's warning us against is something more sinister.

What is anxiety?

The original word implies being pulled in different directions, being distracted and divided. And that’s exactly what anxiety does: it divides our attention, our thoughts, and our heart so that we are living neither fully in the present nor in the future. Anxiety sets you against yourself. It keeps you from being whole. Psychologists define it as “a negative emotional state of uncertainty because of real or potential future problems or challenges.” Again, this is not just thinking about the future, but allowing the uncertainty and potential difficulties of the future to distract and even paralyze you.

There are a number of reasons why we experience anxiety. Some of those are tied with survival and provision. Jesus prefaced His anti-anxiety call with those very examples: “Do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?” Tied closely with this is the anxiety we experience over our performance. This goes beyond mere physical provision. We tend to latch a sense of our own worth onto our accomplishments. It's not just about not starving but, “Am I successful? Have I proven myself capable? Have I 'made it'?” This kind of anxiety comes in both personal and professional flavors—relating to family as well as career. Some of our reasons for anxiety are more existential. We worry about if our life has meaning and what meaning it has. We worry about our own unavoidable, impending death. We deal with a sense of anxiety over being good enough, and feel guilt for not meeting up to our own standards, whatever they may be. Some of our anxiety is social. "Will he like me? Will she accept me? Will those people respect and love me? Will they judge me and exclude me?" It's more than likely that we've all dealt with some of these—and probably on a recurring basis.

In light of all the possible grounds for anxiety, Jesus’ words “do not worry about tomorrow” seem more like an impossible challenge than any real comfort. But it's worth asking why the Bible calls us not to worry. To begin with, God desires our blessing and anxiety is contradictory to that, dividing us and pulling us apart. But there is another reason. In reality, anxiety is an act of pride, and that in at least a couple ways. First, anxiety is always future-oriented. It's kind of a prophecy about the future—usually a false prophecy. The truth is we don’t actually know the future. When we allow ourselves to be consumed by worry, we are basically living in a future that we’ve created in our own minds. But that’s the problem: only God can make the future. And in that sense, our anxiety sets us up in the role of God. Not surprisingly, it turns out horribly. Secondly, anxiety is a result of pride because it occurs when we calculate our own resources and abilities to overcome potential problems and then somewhere deep down we realize: we are insufficient. It is the result of exhausted self-reliance.

Why we cannot free ourselves from anxiety

Anxiety is in itself an unpleasant experience, and so people are naturally uncomfortable staying in that state. We try to end our worry, to get free of it in one of two basic ways.

The first is to try to change the equation. If we worry about being successful enough, we set about working harder. If we worry about finding a mate, we set about making ourselves more attractive. Just consider how much advertising is geared toward this idea! If we worry about our abilities not being enough to meet a challenge, we seek to enhance those abilities. Of course, to some degree that’s okay. If you’re worried about failing your math test, you may just need to study harder and then you’ll be less worried. However, the problem is there are some things—many things actually—that we cannot change. Sometimes people will seek to shortcut the reality of our inability to change the equation. We try to convince ourselves that we’ve changed the equation when in reality we haven’t. We hurl self-aggrandizing embellishments at our anxiety like pebbles at an angry bear about to devour us. We tells ourselves pleasant lies about how we are successful and important—though this may not actually any basis in reality. And sooner or later there comes a time of crisis when these lies we tell ourselves begin to crumble. All of a sudden our fictitious ego-stroking runs into the jolting reality of our own insufficiency. It's at that point that people often turn to the second attempt to avoid anxiety.

We hide. We attempt to distract ourselves with other activities, with excessive amounts of entertainment, social interaction, food, drink, sleep, sex or drugs. In a word, we try to suffocate our anxiety under a pillow of amusement, but it tenaciously refuses to die. We are just putting off the inevitable and when our anxiety comes back, it’s all the more vicious for our attempts to kill it.

The problem is that both of these ways of “coping” with anxiety misunderstand what causes it in the first place. Both methods do not work because they have the same root as anxiety itself: self-reliance. Anxiety comes in the first place when we consider potential future problems and realizes that our current resources aren’t enough. But then our attempt to overcome the resultant anxiety are just further based on self-reliance! Either we try to squeeze more out of self, convincing ourselves that our resources are actually enough, or we simply run from the problems because we've realized that our resources are not enough. In short, the whole problem of anxiety begins with being locked in the vicious cycle of self-reliance, and this is why we can never get free from it by continuing to look to ourselves. We need someone else to break the cycle.

What frees us from anxiety

The answer is that what frees us from worry is not a what but a Who. Peter says in his first epistle, "Cast your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you." (1 Pet. 5:7) We are freed from anxiety not because we know something, but because we know Someone—Jesus. Our anxiety is based on not knowing the future and our inability to deal with it's challenges. But the reality is that we don’t need to know the future; we just need to know the One who holds the future. Freedom from anxiety is not about seeing the path of life in front of us, but about knowing the One who holds our hand as we walk on that path, even if we cannot see the next step forward.

In the midst of great suffering and before his own martyrdom, not knowing at the time if he’d be killed or not, the apostle Paul wrote, “I know whom I have believed and am confident that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day.” (2 Tim. 1:12) He didn’t say “I know what’s going to happen” or “I know I can handle it”. Rather, though the future was ominous and Paul knew that martyrdom was a challenge he didn’t have resources for, he still had confidence. He knew in Whom he had believed—in Christ—and he knew that Christ had the resources to make sure everything worked out in the end, in “that Day”.

During his first imprisonment, Paul wrote the following in Php. 4:6-7, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” Paul repeats the frequent Scriptural call not to live in anxiety, but rather to entrust our circumstances to God, to His resources. And here’s the promise Paul notes: peace which surpasses understanding. He does not promise peace that comes from understanding. Paul is not saying, “Just pray and God will explain everything.” He’s not saying, “God will show you the full plan for how He’s going to work it out.” No! If God did do that, we’d just trust our understanding. Instead, the peace God gives us is a peace which surpasses understanding, not based on information or calculation, but on trusting the heart of God. We walk by faith, not by sight.

The reason we can be freed from anxiety is not because we see the future, but because we see Jesus. He also stood on the brink of the unknown—on the edge of the grave. Yes, He had the promises of the Bible as we do, but as a man He had to trust His Father in the darkness. However unlike us, Christ was forsaken in the darkness. The Father let go of His hand on the cross so that He could take our hand and never let go. Christ was cut off from the resources of the Father so that we might always have access to His resources. And yet, the Father did not leave Him forever. He rose Him up in glory just as He had promised. Jesus went through the dark night of death, loss, shame, guilt, failure—and came out into the dawn of glory and eternal blessedness. The resurrection is proof that whatever we go through, as those who love God, really will work out for good. It's proof that He really does care for us. He has dealt with our death and guilt, He has given our life meaning, He has proven our worth in giving His life for ours, He has accepted us, does not judge us for our crimes but loves us with an everlasting love. And when we see Him, His heart, what He did for us on the cross—our anxiety melts away like frost before the relentless spring sun. We might not see what is down the road, we realize fully that our resources will not be enough, but we know that He cares for us, Has cared for us in giving Himself for us. That is the peace that surpasses understanding.

This article is based on an excerpt from my sermon "Anxiety and the Peace of God", available in Russian here. If you enjoyed this article and want to catch future posts, don't forget to subscribe to the blog.

Palm Sunday and False Worship

2015-04-15T15:03:00.000+03:00

It was Sunday before the Passover. The crowds had come out from Jerusalem in throngs to worship Jesus as the promised Messiah. They laid their own clothes on the road before Him in a costly gesture of recognition. He rode upon a donkey just as the prophesies foretold. They cried out “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” But—Jesus wept. He cried over Jerusalem which stood before Him, mourning the fact that the city didn’t recognize Him, didn’t recognize this day. But here’s the strange part: the crowd worshiping Him, waiving palm branches—they had come out from Jerusalem. So what does Jesus mean that they didn’t recognize Him?

There’s a hint in the words the crowd declared. The phrase, “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” is taken from Ps. 118. This was a Psalm that the Jews traditionally sang as they went up to Jerusalem for the Feast of Tabernacles. This was a feast that pre-figured the coming Kingdom of God. It was a celebration of harvest and joy. They would also use palm branches in their worship on the Feast of Tabernacles. But that’s the problem: Jesus wasn’t coming to Jerusalem on the Feast of Tabernacles. He was coming for Passover, for the sacrifice of the Lamb.

Jesus wept because He knew the crowd didn’t recognize Him for who he was and what He really came for. He knew they didn’t worship Him for who He was, but rather for what they could get out of Him. They were more than happy to worship a Messiah who was going to establish God’s Kingdom and reign over Israel in peace and prosperity, kick out the occupying Romans and generally make life great. But that’s not exactly what happened. When Jesus didn’t come and set Himself up as the new Ruler over Israel, didn’t drive out the Roman, the crowd’s tune changed. In fact, we read that many in Jerusalem just days later joined in the cry before Pilate, “Crucify Him!” That only showed that most of them weren’t worshiping Jesus in the first place, only what they could get from Him.

Too often those who claim to worship Jesus have a similar approach. We are happy to worship as long as things are going smoothly, as long as we think that Jesus will give us what we want from Him. We look to Him as a means to our various ends of improvement, comfort, prosperity, etc. But what about when that doesn’t happen? What about when sickness is not met with healing but with death? What about when things go from bad to worse? What about when following Jesus means that our family turns away from us, that we lose a job, that we suffer? We’re all for the feast of joy and happy to worship Jesus when we think He’s come to give it to us right now. But what about when what’s actually coming is slaughter? The truth is, sometimes Jesus doesn’t give us what we hoped for or expected. When that’s the case, what is our reaction? Will our cries turn from, “Blessed is He…” to “Crucify Him!”? Do we get bitter, resentful, even hateful towards God? If so, we show that we weren’t really worshiping Jesus in the first place, only what He could give us. Like the consumeristic crowd outside of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, our worship is often false because we see Jesus as a means rather than the End in Himself. He is worthy of our worship not because of what He gives us, but because He has given us Himself.

This article is based on an excerpt from my sermon on Palm Sunday 2015, available in Russian here. If you enjoyed this article and want to catch future posts, don't forget to subscribe to the blog.

Negative Holiness

2015-01-27T21:35:00.000+02:00

Holiness—this word has been twisted and misunderstood more than many in the biblical lexicon. Modern society finds the concept of “holiness” unsavory at best—something akin to lima beans: you realize it might theoretically be good for you, but it still triggers your gag reflex. If the term is used at all, it’s usually only as an accusation or an insult. “Oh, he's so holy!” is not generally a compliment on someone’s spiritual maturity, but rather intended as an indictment against an obnoxiously self-righteous person. Sadly, when we hear the word “holiness", we’re more likely to picture the Pharisees than Jesus. Even as Christians, the word often carries for us a vague feeling of burden and drudgery. And to be honest, most of the reason holiness has gained this distasteful reputation is probably the fault of Christians.

Beginning in the 19th century, the so-called “holiness movement” started gaining popularity among certain groups of believers. Of course, Christianity has always had an ascetic fringe. But in modern society, it is largely this movement that has led to the association of the word “holiness” with moral prudishness, extreme and extra-biblical rules, a fixation on “avoiding the world”, and making oneself “perfect”. It’s important to note a couple things about these “holiness clubs”. First, they were born out of a theological underpinning which believed that man could, through rigorous moral effort, actually attain a state of sinless perfection—“total sanctification”. The power of the Holy Spirit in our lives can and should make significant changes. But a movement that says we can attain a state of sinlessness in the present life essentially denies the total depravity of man and claims for its proponents a level of spirituality that event the Apostle Paul did not ascribe to himself. (Php. 3:12)

Second, these holiness societies often demanded complete abstinence from even moderate alcohol use, tobacco, dancing, playing cards, the theatre and other “worldly” forms of entertainment. Of course, the fact that the Bible knows no such prohibitions didn’t dissuade the “holiness” advocates from insisting on them. They, apparently, wanted to be holier than God Himself—an endeavor which never works out well. And as with the Pharisees of old, it has ultimately done more to push people away from God than bring them near. Despite their misguided methods, the earliest groups were generally motivated by a desire for a deeper experience of God. But the modern residue of this movement—which still lives on in quite a few fundamentalist and Evangelical groups—clings to the self-imposed prohibitions yet with little real thirst to experience God. In addition, it’s notable that the “sins” these groups focused on were usually the more visible and “carnal” sins, rather than things like pride, gossip and unforgiveness which the Bible condemns at least as much as the others.

This is all tragic because, though the Bible calls us to holiness, this sort of pharisaic prudishness is not at all what God invites us to. Scripture speaks of the “beauty of holiness” but too often Christians have turned it into something grotesque. The word “holiness” in Scripture literally means to be “separated” or “set apart”. We tend to think of this as being separated from sin, from the world, from fleshly habits, etc. There certainly is that aspect to true holiness. But it would be better to understand the meaning of holiness as “dedication”. Scripture presents the “separation” of holiness not as primarily separation from something, but separation to something—or to Someone in the case of the Christian. Holiness as the Bible defines it is, first and foremost, being wholly given to God, and only separated from those things which would hinder our intimacy with Him.

Many Christians see holiness like celibacy: primarily concerned with what you abstain from. No wonder holiness seems so unattractive to modern society! But the picture of biblical holiness is that of a marriage, not of celibacy. Yes, the holiness of a marriage does include vows to separate yourself, to “abstain” from all other lovers, but the point of marriage is not in abstaining from something. The purpose of marriage is to fully devote yourself to your spouse—to cleave to them exclusively, to delight in one another and be one with them.

For too many Christians, the focus of “holiness” is in giving things up, avoiding this, or not doing that. They define holiness in almost completely negative terms. But that’s not the point of holiness. Biblical holiness is not about self-denial for its own sake. Biblical holiness is about complete union with Christ, cleaving to Him. And only as a consequence of the primary purpose do we deny those things that hinder our closeness with Him. Holiness is not about what you give up, it’s about what you gain: intimacy with Christ.

Defining holiness as avoiding sin is like defining marriage as avoiding adultery. While a marriage cannot be healthy when either spouse is involved in adultery, the lack of adultery in a marriage is no guarantee of a good marriage. There are plenty of marriages that, while no adultery is present, are still cold and loveless. Fidelity is a necessary condition for a good marriage, but it is not sufficient by itself to ensure a good marriage. And just as a good marriage is more than avoiding adultery, true holiness is more than avoiding sin—never less, but definitely more. This is the mistake of the Christian who defines holiness as primarily what he avoids, rather than Whom he enjoys.

We need to learn to see holiness not so much as a state of behavior, but as a state of relationship. The truth is that some Christians are so interested in “holiness” that they care nothing for Jesus. That is, their “holiness” consists primarily in looking at themselves and making sure they are up to par, rather than looking at Christ and delighting in Him. All of their “holiness” amounts to little more than glorified navel-gazing. This is like the husband who is fixated on being a good husband. He wants so much to have a good marriage—if only his wife would get out of the way and quit messing it up! Of course, the truly good husband is the one who is not hung up on how good of a husband he is, but who is fixated on loving, serving and being one with his wife. Similarly, the truly holy Christian is the one who thinks very little about his achievements in holiness, but thinks a great deal about loving and enjoying Jesus.

Of course, there are things we must deny in pursuing intimacy with God. That is part of holiness, just as forsaking old lovers is part of marriage. Jesus said in Mk. 8:34, “Whoever desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me.” There is an obvious element of self-denial in these words. But the end of the phrase is the point of everything that comes before it: to follow Jesus, to be with Him. We must realize that anytime the Lord calls us to “deny self”, it is not so He can deprive us of something, but so He can give us something so much better—Himself. He asks us to let go of the stone in our hand only so He can fill it with bread.

So let’s stop defining holiness primarily by what we give up and realize that the essence of true holiness is intimacy with Christ. If we have made the keeping of rules the measure of holiness—especially extra-biblical, self-imposed rules—let us repent of neglecting our Bridegroom. May we begin to define holiness not in terms of what we avoid, but of Whom we enjoy.

This article is based on an excerpt from my sermon on 1 Peter 1:13-16 “Holiness vs. Religion” available in Russian here. If you enjoyed this article and want to catch future posts, don't forget to subscribe to the blog.

The Good News of God's Foreknowledge

2014-12-23T20:06:00.001+02:00

This is the fifth and final article in my series on man's free will and God's foreknowledge.
If you missed them, check out part 1, part 2, part 3, and part 4.
If you enjoyed this series and want to catch future posts,
don't forget to subscribe to the blog.

God’s foreknowledge is at the root of our election. (1 Pet. 1:2) But the question remains: what does that mean? We saw in the last article that God’s foreknowledge is not merely something He sees, but something He does. Yet that still doesn't tell us exactly what it is. In this final article in the series, I want to lay out a thorough definition of God’s foreknowledge from Scripture itself so we can see why it is such good news.

How “foreknowledge” is used in Scripture

The word is only used twice as a noun (prognosis - foreknowledge) and five times as a verb (proginosko - to foreknow) in the New Testament. These occurrences are, generally speaking, fairly spread out. But interestingly, two of the seven uses are found in chapter one of 1 Peter. The first mention of the term there is in the verse referenced at the beginning of this article, which says that we are “elect according to the foreknowledge of God.” (1 Pet. 1:2) The other use is in 1 Pet. 1:20, “[Christ] indeed was foreordained before the foundation of the world, but was manifest in these last times for you…” Did you catch it? Peter is speaking of Christ and using the same word in the original text (prognosis) that is used of our election. But here it’s translated as “foreordained”—and with good reason. (ESV is consistent in translating it “He was foreknown…”) This verse obviously does not just mean that the Father “knew Christ’s autonomous decisions ahead of time.” Rather, it is speaking about the fact that Christ was “known” and ordained—appointed from eternity past in God’s redemptive plan as the Savior of all. This use of the term already shows clearly that God’s “foreknowledge” (prognosis) is more than His passive observation of the future.

Another important passage for understanding the concept of “foreknowledge” in the New Testament is Acts 2:23, in which Peter says of Christ, “Him, being delivered by the determined purpose and foreknowledge of God, you have taken by lawless hands, have crucified, and put to death…” (emph. mine) Let me rephrase that so we catch the importance and full impact of this statement. Peter says, “God’s set plan and foreknowledge delivered Jesus over to you, and you took Him and killed and crucified Him with lawless hands.” God’s foreknowledge and “set plan” were something that ordained and led to the crucifixion of Christ, though it was indeed the hands of lawless men who carried this out and bear the guilt for it.

Now, to be fair, there are two places in the New Testament where the word prognosis is used in the sense of simply knowing something ahead of time or from the beginning. However, these two uses concern man’s “knowing from the beginning”, not God’s. When it is used of God, foreknowledge implies not simply a passive observation of future events, but rather some activity on the part of God that leads to the accomplishment of His will. In the apocryphal book of Judith the word “foreknowledge” is also used in this way. Praying to God, there is a line where Judith says, “You have designed the things that are now and those that are to come. Yea, the things you intended came to pass, and the things you decided presented themselves and said, ‘Lo, we are here'; for all your ways are prepared in advance, and your judgment is with foreknowledge.” That is, God’s foreknowledge is here again tied with God’s determined plan. They are nearly synonyms. While this book is not part of Scripture, it does give us further insight into the way they word was used and understood at that time.

In Rom. 8:29, concerning God’s election of Christians, Paul says, “For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren.” This “foreknowing” is not merely to “know in advance”. We can see that clearly because Paul uses this term again about God's election of Israel in Rom. 11:2, saying, “God has not cast away His people whom He foreknew…” God “foreknew” His people Israel. The context emphasizes that His foreknowledge and sovereign election of Israel is the grounds of His continued faithfulness to them. If foreknowledge was merely seeing the future in advance, surely God would’ve seen that Israel as a whole would turn away from Him and reject Christ. If it were only about foreseeing, God would likely not have elected them! God's election of Israel was not based on “future faith” since, as a whole, that faith in Christ was lacking on the part of Israel. The context again clearly shows that foreknowledge is more than just knowing the future.

Why call it “foreknowledge”?

If “foreknowledge” is not simply knowledge about the future, why call it “foreknowledge”? Here it is important also to understand what “know” means in this case. There are actually a number of Greek words that are translated “know” in our English Bibles, though each has its own unique emphasis. The word “foreknowledge” (prognosis), comes from the Greek word gnosis, or “to know”. This particular Greek word primarily speaks of an experiential and personal knowledge, not just theory or information. Gnosis is the same word that is used of when a man “knew” his wife and they bore a child. Obviously this does not mean he just passively obtained information about her! To say you “know” (ginosko) someone implies a relationship, not just knowledge about someone.

In fact, we even retain this difference in English to some extent. It’s one thing to know about a person, and another to know that person. When referring to people, to say you “know” someone implies relationship with them. So when we read that God “elected us according to foreknowledge”, we must understand that it’s not merely speaking of information that God obtained by passive observance of some future choice. Rather, it speaks of God’s choice to enter into loving relationship—to love us from before the foundation of the world. It is important also to see that Scripture never speaks of unbelievers as being “foreknown”. Think about this: if God’s foreknowledge only means His seeing the future, it would be equally proper to say He “foreknew” unbelievers just as He does believers. But the word is never used like that in Scripture. It is always exclusively the elect who are “foreknown” by God. In fact, it is not even said that our decisions are foreknown—as if foreknowledge were informational—but rather that we ourselves are foreknown.

This understanding of knowledge as personal relationship is clear in the OT as well. God says to Jeremiah in Jer. 1:5, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I sanctified you; I ordained you a prophet to the nations.” In other words, God had known, chosen and loved Jeremiah before he was even born. In Amos 3:2 God says of Israel, “You only have I known of all the families of the earth…” Now, does that mean God lacks information about other nations? Of course not. The knowledge God speaks of here is a personal, intimate knowledge—a choice on God’s part to enter into covenant relationship with His elect people Israel. In the New Testament in similar fashion, Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount tells of those who come to Him at the last day and say, “Lord, Lord, didn’t we do all these good deeds in your name?” Jesus answers, “I never knew you.” (Mt. 7:23) Does that mean that Christ did not see them or have information about them? No, it means these people were busy being religious, but never received Christ’s love, never had a personal relationship.

So, let’s summarize the definition of foreknowledge in the Bible. That God has “foreknown” the elect does not mean that He merely looked down the corridor of time to see the future, libertarian choice of those who will respond in faith to the Gospel and elected those. God’s foreknowledge is not just a passive observation of future decisions, and we are not the source of our election. As we saw, there are many problems with that view. Rather, God’s foreknowledge is His gracious choice to love His people, His elect—to “know” them before the foundation of the world and enter into covenant with them. It is not that we chose Him and then He elected us in response. Rather, as John says, “We love Him because He first loved us.” (1 Jn. 4:19) God’s foreknowledge is His active love—His will to enter into covenant relationship with us. And here we can already begin to understand why God’s foreknowledge is such good news.

The good news of God’s foreknowledge

The good news of God’s foreknowledge is that He has chosen to love us from eternity past. He has chosen to bring us into relationship with Himself and He is the one who draws us. The rest of 1 Peter 1:2 hashes out what exactly this election leads to, “…elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, in sanctification of the Spirit, for obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ: Grace to you and peace be multiplied.” We are chosen by God because He has loved us from all eternity. He foreknew us, and desired to enter into relationship with us as His own people. The Father is the source of our election. The second phrase speaks of the outworking of our election: by the sanctification of the Spirit. It is the Holy Spirit who works in our hearts to bring us to God. It is He who convicts, draws and regenerates us and makes us holy by the grace of God. But how does He do this? By bringing us “to obedience and the sprinkling of the blood of Christ.” It is the blood of Christ that washes us from sin and makes us holy. The Spirit applies the sacrifice of Christ to us. The Father initiates our acceptance of that sacrifice by His electing love. The whole triune God—Father, Son and Holy Spirit—have collaborated together to make us His own people! How glorious! The obedience that it speaks of here is the obedience of faith in the Gospel. The Holy Spirit, sent by the Father who foreknew us, draws us to Christ and reveals the Gospel to us that we may obey and submit to it.

Make no mistake; this is real obedience and submission. Man’s natural tendency is to rely on his own strength, to try and prove himself, to make himself good enough. It was Martin Luther who taught that self-righteousness is the default mode of the human heart. Therefore, we must indeed submit to the Gospel and not resist God’s grace. We must let go of our self-confidence and place all our confidence in Christ. We must not look to any of our own works for salvation, but only to His work for us on the cross. We must obey the message of grace that He has done it all, that it is finished, and all we must do is receive.

At this point it's likely someone would argue that I am implying something I'm not. While I do believe that God’s election is unconditional, based on His own choice to love us, I do not believe this means that the grace of God is “irresistible”. One might ask, “But how can that be if our election is from God?” I have no idea! But as I mentioned in my previous article on logic vs. Scripture, it is not our job to reconcile all points of Scripture with our fallen reasoning. Our job is to assert what Scripture does and Scripture asserts the good news of God’s foreknowledge, as well as the danger of resisting His call. In God’s election of us, in the Father’s foreknowledge of us as His children, in the Holy Spirit’s work in our hearts to make us His own, and in being washed by the blood of Christ and submitting to the good news of the Gospel—we are filled with grace and peace. They are multiplied and spill over as we grasp more and more this wonderful salvation which is all of grace—and that is truly good news! Let us rejoice then in God’s foreknowledge, by which he has chosen to love us and make us His own and give all the glory to God alone.

The Basis of God's Election

2014-12-16T17:30:00.000+02:00

This article is the fourth in a series on man's free will and God's foreknowledge.
If you missed them, check out part 1, part 2 and part 3.
Subscribe to the blog to make sure you don't miss the rest of the series.

You are not the basis for your election. And it's a good thing—because if you were, you'd never have been elected in the first place. In the last article, we saw that God’s perfect knowledge of the future implies that the future is determined. But I left this question unanswered: on what basis is the future determined? Or, to give it a more blatantly soteriological flavor: what is the basis for your election as God's child? Answer: NOT YOU. Yet some Christians would explain it this way: “God looks down the corridor of time with His perfect knowledge of the future, sees those who will respond with faith to the Gospel, and elects them.” A more modern analogy is that God has “watched a movie of the future” and based His election on what He sees. In other words, they think that our being “elect according to the foreknowledge of God” (1 Pet. 1:2) means nothing more than that God knows the future perfectly and bases His election of us on our own future decisions. To put it in theological categories, this is an Arminian understanding of God’s election known as “conditional election”. They contend that God’s election of believers is based on His seeing in advance who will have faith when presented with the Gospel and then He elects those. Besides the fact that the real, biblical meaning of "foreknowledge" is more than just knowledge of the future (which we'll get to in the next article), there are a couple big problems with this understanding.

First, it makes man the fountainhead and foundation of his own election. It essentially implies that those who are just a little more spiritually open, more spiritually insightful or sensitive, etc.—these are the ones whom God chooses. But the Bible says that God elected us “according to the good pleasure of His will” (Eph. 1:4-5), not “according to His ability to see our future choice and spiritual openness on a celestial movie screen.” God also said to Israel through Moses in Deut 7:7-8, “The Lord did not set His love on you nor choose you because you were more in number than any other people, for you were the least of all peoples; but because the Lord loves you…” In other words: "You are elect not because of anything in yourselves. If that were the case, you wouldn't be elect because... well, you're not that great! But you have been chosen because God has loved you. God loves you because He loves you." The same goes for us as Christians. God says that His own love is the source of our election, not anything in us. His goodness, not ours, is the basis of our identity as His children.

Second, this theory of conditional election is really an attempt to leave some semblance of man's libertarian freedom in tact. It's as though God at some point before creation looked into a (non-existent) hypothetical future where men have libertarian freedom to choose God in their own power and then God chose the elect on the basis of this fiction. A person who upholds conditional election may very well agree that at the present time the future is set and cannot be changed. But their concept of God's election implies that it was based on a libertarian future which God supposedly saw in eternity past. The claim is that at least this way the “responsibility” is on man for his election, even if it is now determined.

But there’s a problem: The reality where man's will is not fallen and has libertarian freedom does not exist. If God's election were based on viewing some such hypothetical world, then He would be electing fictional characters instead of real people. But if God knows the actual future perfectly and precisely, then He also knew that we would NOT choose Him apart from His own, gracious drawing. As I laid out in my previous article on free will, man’s will is unable to desire God and, moreover, to believe in the Gospel unless God should initiate a work in his heart by grace. So, if God deals in reality rather than fiction (which I believe He does), there would be nothing positive in the elect to foresee that He Himself didn't graciously bring about. And if He merely foresees a person's "free choice"—the unrestricted expression of their fallen will—then there is nothing to foresee except sin and rebellion against the Gospel. And hence, no one would be elect. This is why the idea that our election flows from ourselves while God is a passive observer cannot hold up under scrutiny.

The Bible clearly says that man is not the source of his own election. He cannot even desire to be elect without God’s supernatural work on his heart. Man’s will is not “free” in the sense that he could, in his own power, want God. Nevertheless, man does bear responsibility for his own sin. Why? Because he chooses it without any influence from God. That is, as I mentioned before, man does have a limited kind of “freedom”. We are free to choose what we want, and so we bear responsibility for our choice. The problem is, in our fallen will, we want sin. And because sin is what we want, we are responsible for it. While the Bible clearly points to God as the source of our gracious election, it just as clearly points to man as the source of his own sin and consequent damnation. Some might try to argue that, “logically”, if God predestines the elect for salvation, He must predestine the reprobate for damnation. While we might tend to reason in this way, the Bible knows of no such doctrine. Again, we must follow Scripture over our natural reasoning. We are in need of God’s gracious intervention to be saved. We don’t need any help in damning ourselves—we can manage that one on our own. It was Charles Spurgeon who wrote: "Damnation is all of man, from top to bottom, and salvation is all of grace, from first to last. He that perishes chooses to perish; but he that is saved is saved because God has chosen to save him."

So what does all this mean for the fact that God elects us “according to His foreknowledge”? It implies that God’s “foreknowledge” must be something more than simple, passive observation of our choice in advance. Our choice, by itself, is always wrong. Foreknowledge must imply not merely something that God sees, but something that God does to overcome the natural inclination of our fallen will. So what is God’s foreknowledge? This is what I’ll look at in the next and final article in this series.

If God Knows the Future...

2014-12-09T21:16:00.000+02:00

This article is the third in a series on man's free will and God's foreknowledge.
If you missed them, check out part 1 and part 2.
Subscribe to the blog to make sure you don't miss the rest of the series.

“…elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father…” 1 Peter 1:2

It’s no coincidence that Peter begins his first epistle to the suffering church with God’s election. He does so because God’s benevolent sovereignty towards us as believers should be a source of great joy and comfort, particularly in times of serious trial. How tragic it is that (apparently for some Christians) God’s gracious election of us as His children should be more a cause for argument and contention than it is for worship and joy. Nevertheless, the question of how God’s election works has haunted the church for centuries and cannot be sidestepped. A large part of the debate centers around the word “foreknowledge”, which I will be looking at in-depth in this and the next couple of posts. The greatest difficulty in understanding the Bible’s teaching on foreknowledge is in developing an accurate definition of the term. But before we come to a full-fledged, biblical definition, we need to deal with some of our assumptions about the word.

We read the English word “foreknowledge” and probably just assume that it means to know something before it happens. In other words, we think foreknowledge is a kind of synonym for prophecy. We talk as though God’s foreknowledge is just part of His omniscience. That is, because He knows everything, He must know the future as well. The Greek word used in the New Testament for “foreknowledge” is prognosis, from which we get the modern English word. But in English, a prognosis is really more of an educated guess, a forecast about the future, rather than any kind of sure knowledge. Doctors give prognoses of a disease—but sometimes they're correct, and sometimes they're not. I will show in a following article that the biblical concept of foreknowledge, or prognosis in the NT, does not refer merely God’s knowledge of the future. Nevertheless, we can at least start from the fact that God does know the future. The Bible states this clearly and there are some important consequences of God's knowledge of the future which relate to the question at hand.

First, the Bible plainly declares that God does not just guess about the future. We read in Isa. 46:9-10, “For I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like Me, declaring the end from the beginning, and from ancient times things that are not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, and I will do all My pleasure.’” God is unequivocal about His exact knowledge of future events. God does not just offer “prognoses” about the future, but knows the future with certainty. If He did not, prophecy of any kind would be impossible. In fact, God knows the future with such detail, that David writes in Ps. 139:4,16, “There is not a word on my tongue, but behold, O Lord, You know it altogether… in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them.” God’s knows the future “altogether” as the Psalmist says. He knows the future without error and completely—and not just the big events, but in minute detail. The future which God knows meticulously is guaranteed to take place. Every day of your life, David says, is written in God’s book even before you are born. Let this blow your mind for a second: God already knows and already knew from eternity every thought you will think, every word you will say, every decision you will make, every breath you will breathe until the day you die! There is nothing hidden before Him, “but all things are naked and open to the eyes of Him to whom we must give account.” (Heb. 4:13)

Open Theism: Right Problem, Wrong Conclusion

Most orthodox Christians agree on the fact that God knows the future. But there are a few Christians out there who believe in what is called “open theism”. Basically, open theism says that God does not know the future because it is contingent on our decisions which haven’t been made yet and is therefore unknowable in principle. The future, they say, is “open” for any number of alternate possibilities—hence the name “open theism”. Of course, this directly contradicts Scripture which says, for example, in 1 Jn. 3, “God is greater than our heart, and knows all things.” “All things” would include the future as well.

So why does the open theist affirm that God doesn’t know the future? Because they correctly realize the dilemma: if God does know the future perfectly and with absolute certainty, then the future cannot be other than what God knows it to be. That implies that the future is “closed”, rather than “open”. There are no other “possible futures” than the one God knows to exist. Further, they argue that then there would be no “real free will”. If God knows the future, that means we cannot actually choose anything that would be contrary to that future which God knows will take place. Confused yet?

If you’ve seen The Matrix trilogy, perhaps this illustration will help. There is a character called “the Oracle” who can see the future. In one scene, she asks Neo (the hero of the story) if he wants some candy. Neo asks her in return, “Do you already know if I'm going to take it?” She answers, “I wouldn’t be much of an oracle if I didn’t.” And he replies, “But if you already know, how can I make a choice?” That’s exactly the problem that open theism realizes. What they are saying is, “God’s perfect knowledge of future events would destroy human libertarian free will. Things could not be other than He knows them to be. You cannot choose other than He knows you will.”

The implications of God’s perfect knowledge of the future are rightly understood by the open theists. God’s perfect knowledge of the future does destroy what is called “libertarian free will”—the possibility of a future other than the one God knows. The problem with open theism is not that they realize the contradiction of libertarian free will and God’s perfect knowledge of the future, but that they make the wrong conclusion. They would rather cling to free will and deny that God perfectly and precisely knows the future, even though “He wouldn’t be much of a God if He didn’t.” They are happy to sacrifice God's omniscience on the altar of their autonomy. This is sad, but not surprising. Man has wanted to be in the place of God ever since the Garden of Eden. We want to be the ones to determine the future. We want to put God on our level—or rather, put ourselves on His level. Despite their erroneous conclusion, open theism correctly understands what God’s perfect knowledge of the future implies.

So, before we go further in the discussion of God’s “foreknowledge”, we need to understand this: If God knows the future precisely and perfectly, then that future must take place. It cannot be other than it is. It is determined. Otherwise, God couldn’t actually know the future or at least may be mistaken about it. Therefore, God’s perfect knowledge of the future and the foreordination of that future are inextricably linked. They are two sides of the same theological coin. If God knows the future, then it must be determined. And if it is not determined, then God cannot know it. Of course, it’s one thing to say that the future is determined. But that does not answer the question of the basis on which it is determined. This is the question I will look at in the next post as we work towards a biblical definition of God's foreknowledge.

Lines in the Doctrinal Sand: Logic vs. Scripture

2014-12-02T16:31:00.000+02:00

This article is the second in a series on man's free will and God's foreknowledge. Read part 1 here.
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“The five points of Calvinism stand or fall together!” You may have heard that polarizing statement before (as have I) from both those who would reject all five points as well as from those who accept all five points. But I'm going to have to cry foul for a very simple reason: I accept some points, but not others. And there is an ever-increasing number of four-point Calvinists out there, as well as Lutherans who accept at least two of the points. Even classical Arminians accept one of the five. So the facts show that many believers do not hold the five together. This question has important implications for how we relate logic and Scripture to each other.

When a person argues that the five points of Calvinism stand or fall together, what they most likely mean is that the five points of Calvinism are a whole, logical set. One can at least see how the points do work together logically, but that doesn’t mean it’s all or none. Why not? To understand, we have to push a bit further. One might continue the line of reasoning and say that the five points of Calvinism also logically imply the lack of necessity to evangelize, or the supralapsarian position (a minority position among Reformed believers that the logical order of God’s decrees first chose the non-elect for damnation and then ordained the fall to accomplish this, thereby implicating God in a sort of “cookies-made-to-burn” theology.) These are positions more often associated with what might be called hyper-Calvinism. They are also positions which an overwhelming majority of Reformed believers would reject. We would do well to remember that, in engaging with believers of other persuasions, we must learn to interact with what they actually claim to believe, not with what we think their position implies. Anything less is dishonest and only leads to division and accusation, rather than healthy discussion.

If you wanted to press this logical progression, you might argue like this: “Well, IF, as the Calvinist says, God’s grace is irresistible, then it is impossible that any of the elect should fail to receive Christ. Therefore, it is unnecessary to evangelize.” Now, we might say that this is a solid, logical progression. But it is obviously not biblical, as Christ called us to preach the Gospel to the whole world (Mk. 16:15). At the end of the day, our goal is to be ruled by Scripture, not human logic. This is true for the Reformed believer as well as the non-Reformed. Aside from the rare hyper-Calvinist (who traditional Calvinists usually have little patience for), you will not find a Reformed believer who thinks that evangelism is futile and unnecessary. The Reformed believer also draws his line in the doctrinal sand at some point and says, “I can see how it might be considered logical, but it is not biblical and that settles it.” The difference between the Reformed and non-Reformed believer is where we think that line ought to be drawn, not the basis on which it should be drawn—Scripture.

For example, one can see how the Calvinist doctrine of limited atonement is a logical consequence of the other four points. It is claimed, “If Christ’s death truly did pay for the sins of all those for whom He died, then He must have died only for the elect, since God would be unjust to punish those sins for which Christ already bore the penalty.” Is that a logical argument? Sure. The problem is, in my evaluation, it is not biblical. Clear passages like 1 Jn. 2:2 say that, “And He [Christ] Himself is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the whole world.” Our job is not to find a logical reconciliation for everything taught in Scripture, but rather to hold everything that Scripture teaches in faith, whether we can exhaustively explain it or not. Sure, we try to make the best sense of it we can, but ultimately we have to humble ourselves and admit with Paul, “Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and His ways past finding out!” (Rom. 11:33)

We have generally learned to practice this kind of biblically faithful humility when it comes to the being of God Himself. For example, we might concede that there is a certain humanly-logical consistency to the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ view of God. Their reasoning would go, “The Bible says clearly that there is one God. God is a personal being, not an impersonal force. The essence of a personal being is his personality. And if there is one God only, then it stands to reason that God is uni-personal. To state that God has multiple personalities is to state that there are multiple gods, which is heresy.” Is their argument logical? Sure, to a degree (we won’t get into the incorrect assumptions this argument makes here). But is it biblical? Absolutely not! The Bible states that there is One God, eternally existent in three distinct persons. Is that “logical”? Well, I haven’t yet met a person who has fully wrapped their head around that one. But is it biblical? Absolutely. At the end of the day, we need to draw our lines in the doctrinal sand not according to the dictates of supposed human logic, but in submission to the inspired and infallible text of the Bible. We tend to have more of a humility about this when it comes to the ineffable being of God, realizing that we finite mortals shouldn’t actually be able to fully comprehend Him. But we ought to also realize that the principle is the same when it comes to salvation. After all, if “salvation is of the Lord” (Jon. 2:9) as Scripture says, why would we assume that we should be able to completely figure it out any more than we could figure out the being of God?

Does this mean that God is not logical? No, it simply means that our logic, along with the rest of our being, was distorted and broken at the Fall. Theologians speak of the noetic effects of the Fall—that our thoughts and reason are also impaired as a result of sin. If we cannot square the truths of Scripture with our understanding of logic, surely the problem is with our own sin-broken mind, not the Word of God. But that means that we will likely run into Scriptural truths that defy our deficient human logic.

Returning to the original question of why the logical consistency of the five points of Calvinism doesn’t mean that they “must stand of fall together”, the answer is this: logic is not the final authority; Scripture is. I, for one, hold that man is entirely fallen and unable of himself to come to Christ “unless the Father draws him.” (Jn. 6:44) I also hold that we ourselves are not the cause of God’s election, but rather His own love and good will towards us is the source of His election (more on this in the next article). (Eph. 1:4-5) But I would also say that doctrines like limited atonement or irresistible grace (the L and I of Calvinism’s TULIP), while perhaps having a measure of logical consistency, are not consistent with the biblical text. (I Tim. 4:10, Lk. 7:30 respectively.) Can I exhaustively harmonize all this? No. Fortunately, that's not my job. My task—and the task of every Christian—is to hold what Scripture teaches as best I am able. My own soteriological middle-road position (and that of many others) is proof that the five points do not have to stand or fall together. Whatever stands must stand on Scripture, not mere logic.

So, if you are guilty of trying to caricaturize Reformed believers (or Arminians for that matter), claiming that they must believe what we think are the logical implications of their position, stop. It is neither honest nor gracious nor productive. Plus, it actually just makes us look ignorant of the other person's position. We must realize that Reformed and non-Reformed Christians alike are drawing a line in the doctrinal sand where they believe the Bible to draw that line. Granted, we draw the lines in somewhat different places, but we all hopefully acknowledge that we must be ruled by the Scriptural text, not our own understanding of logic. This gracious acknowledgement will leave room for discussion between Reformed and non-Reformed brothers and sisters on the common foundation of Scripture. And hopefully it will help us to stop wrongfully ascribing extreme positions to those who do not hold them.

Second, we must beware of the trap of our own fallen logic. The Scripture is our guide to truth, not our reasoning and implications from it. Any one doctrinal position pushed ad absurdum to its logical end will lead to imbalance and even heresy (as in the example of God’s oneness noted above.) We must be willing to be honest with ourselves and ask if some of our doctrines aren’t built more on logic than on Scripture. The truth is that as soon as we think we have the mysteries of the divine boxed into our own broken logic, it’s probably a good sign that we’ve got something wrong.

Why You Don’t Believe in Free Will

2014-11-26T21:51:00.000+02:00

This article is the first in a series on man's free will and God's foreknowledge.
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One of the big issues in discussing soteriology (how salvation works) is the question of man’s “free will”. Let me start right out with this plea: please stop saying that people have free will! Not because you’re a Calvinist, but because you’re a Christian and you don’t really believe in “free will”. Let me explain why. During the Reformation era, a group of theologians formally made this statement:

“Man has not saving grace of himself, nor of the energy of his free will, inasmuch as he, in the state of apostasy and sin, can of and by himself neither think, will, nor do anything that is truly good (such as having faith eminently is); but it is needful that he be born again of God in Christ, through his Holy Spirit, and renewed in understanding, inclination, or will, and all his powers, in order that he may rightly understand, think, will, and effect what is truly good, according to the word of Christ, John xv. 5: "Without me ye can do nothing."

This grace of God is the beginning, continuance, and accomplishment of a good, even to this extent, that the regenerate man himself, without that prevenient or assisting, awakening, following, and co-operative grace, can neither think, will, nor do good, nor withstand any temptations to evil; so that all good deeds or movements, that can be conceived, must be ascribed to the grace of God in Christ.”

You might be thinking, “What extreme, Calvinist theologians laid out these words denying the free will of man and his innate ability to believe in the Gospel?” Answer: the followers of Jacob Arminius. That’s right, these words were laid out in the third and fourth Articles of Remonstrance, which became the foundational statement for the soteriological system we call Arminianism.

So first, realize that when a Christian says that we have “free will”, not only would the Calvinist adamantly disagree, but any self-respecting Arminian would as well, and so should everyone in between (which is where my own position falls.) The problem is the term “free”. The dictionary defines “free” as “unfettered, unrestrained, the state of not being enslaved.” Is that what we believe? That we are not enslaved? Jesus said that we are slaves to sin. (Jn. 8:34) Do we really believe that our will was unaffected by the fall, such that we are able to come to God on our own? Again, Jesus counters, “No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him.” (Jn. 6:44) In other words, man’s will is not free to choose God in its own strength.

In the history of the Christian Church, there was a man who promoted the idea that humans have free will. His name was Pelagius and he was justly condemned as a heretic in the 5^th century. He taught that man, in his own natural ability, has the power to attain moral perfection and choose to obey God, thus attaining salvation. A later revision called semi-Pelagianism (also condemned as heresy in the 6^th century) stated that while man could not attain perfection without the addition of God’s grace, he was yet capable of making the first steps towards God in his own power. The Apostle Paul takes exception to this, saying, “There is none righteous, no, not one; there is none who understands; there is none who seeks after God.” (Rom. 3:10-11) No man, in his own strength, seeks for God or wills to come to Him. Rather, God must graciously initiate and draw us to Christ, or we simply will not come.

I remember reading Martin Luther’s Bondage of the Will a number of years ago. What struck me was the problem of terms. I had heard many Christians defend “free will”, but as I read, I recognized that the “free will” Luther was arguing against was something most Evangelical believers would also reject. Unfortunately, it is not uncommon to hear Christians today affirm that man has “free will”. In all honesty, I’ve heard a number of pastors from my own tribe say this, though I doubt they really mean what the term implies. As we have just defined it, we don’t actually believe in “free will”. My guess is the majority of Christians who say they believe in “free will” don’t really believe that man can come to God on his own, or be the initiator of his own salvation. I believe that when many Christians speak of “free will”, they mean “real will”. We do have a will. It is real, but it is not free. It is in the bondage of sin. And, left to itself, it never chooses God. For that we need the work of grace, the drawing of the Father upon our will to lead us to Christ. That does not mean that the will is unimportant, but that it has no ability of its own unless God imparts it.

When the Reformed believer hears a non-Reformed believer talk about “free will”, he likely thinks we mean what’s called libertarian free will. That is, absolute, innate freedom and power to make any possible choice, including coming to God. It should then be no surprise that all our careless talk of “free will” makes the Reformed believer concerned that we are in serious, Pelagian-style error. That would be a serious problem if we actually believed it! But chances are we simply mean that we have a real will, that our will, enabled and illuminated only by the effective working of God’s grace, must respond to God’s call. It would be helpful if we just said that, rather than tossing about the misleading term of “free will”. While the Reformed and non-Reformed brother or sister would still likely disagree as to the exact nature of the gracious work God must do in drawing us to Himself, at least both would clearly understand that no one is promoting the heretical position of semi-Pelagianism. We do possess a real will, but without God’s interference it will always exert itself in opposition to God. As the philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer said, “Man can do what he wills but he cannot will what he wills.” Our wills are only “free” to act in accordance with their nature, but that nature is fallen and our will cannot choose what it ought (to come to God) without His initiative.

So first, let’s realize that the differences between Reformed and non-Reformed brothers are probably not as great as we often make them seem by using improper terms. Realize that when you say, “I believe in free will,” the Reformed believer hears “man is not completely fallen”. And when the Reformed believer says, “Man does not have free will”, you probably hear something scary like fatalism where man’s will is completely unimportant or violated. Don’t. Because that’s not what either side means. Stop speaking like semi-Pelagians, since that’s not really what you mean. Even Arminius would scold you for affirming “free will”.*

In reality, it is the unbelieving world that is essentially Pelagian. Modern, western culture tells us that man is basically good and “you can do anything if you put your mind to it”. I wonder if the modern church in the west hasn’t let its terms be dictated more by our culture than Scripture. And if we have indeed begun to attribute any small part of our coming to God to our own ability, spiritual openness or insightfulness, rather than to God’s patient and relentless drawing of our hardened hearts to Himself—let us repent and return to a position where God gets all the glory, for He alone is the Author of salvation.

*Note: Some have suggested using the term "freed will" instead of "free will" to clarify this important distinction that man's will must be graciously acted upon by God to be free. This term, while not clarifying exactly to whom and how that action of God applies, is still a significant improvement.

The Myth of an Un-contextualized Gospel

2014-11-06T20:46:00.000+02:00

You have never heard the un-contextualized Gospel. There is one simple reason: it doesn’t exist. Every Gospel conversation or presentation you’ve ever heard has already been contextualized. If it wasn't, you couldn’t hear it. In a bygone era of the foreign missions enterprise, before anyone came up with the term “contextualize”, people used to speak of “indigenizing” the Gospel. But that term implied that the missionary was seeking to take his own civilized, “pure” Gospel and smuggle it into the receiving culture in native garb. This was all temporary though. The missionaries’ cultural goal was to get the natives to adopt “sensible Christian values”. Of course, this generally meant white, individualistic European and American cultural values. But there was a problem that few missionaries seemed to realize at the time: the Gospel of American and European society had been just as contextualized for them as it had to be for anyone else. This idea only began to be explored in depth later in the 20th century. In reality, the way the Gospel is contextualized in our modern, Western society would look alien to first-century, Near Eastern Christians. Certainly we are not so naive as to think that ours is the first culture that has a grasp on the "pure" Gospel. No culture, including mine or yours, has a monopoly on the Good News. While I’m sure there are more, I want to give you three problems we bring about when we shirk a well-thought-out contextualization of the Gospel.

A Cultural Superiority Complex

First, by thinking that we possess an “un-contextualized” Gospel, we artificially set ourselves on a plane that does not exist. This is most obvious in the fact that each one of us heard the Gospel in a language we understand. As soon as any particular language is used to convey the Gospel, contextualization has already begun. The claim falters literally as soon as we open our mouths. Nevertheless, it is tempting to assert that ours is an un-contextualized Gospel because it implies the superiority of our own culture. It tickles our pride to think that we have an exclusive claim to the “pure” Gospel. But despite our seeming conviction that the American Evangelical sub-culture is the closest thing to Eden (God save us!), there is no place for bigotry in the body of Christ. To assert that we have an un-contextualized Gospel is to say that the Gospel in its purest form meshes ideally with our Western, individualistic, consumerist way of life. Thankfully, that’s very unlikely.

Yet this underlying assumption of cultural superiority is why some Christians get fidgety when the topic of contextualization crops up. There is an unspoken belief that changing the cultural forms in which the Gospel is presented will automatically lessen or “defile” its purity. Perhaps what we are really afraid of is letting go of the privileged status we’ve given our own preferred cultural forms. We may even be willing to don the trappings of another sub-culture for a short time for the sake of getting our message out, but we are unlikely to admit that these forms are as valid as our own. Fear of contextualization is often just a thin veil for a cultural superiority complex.

A Shallow View of the Gospel

Secondly, in refusing the endeavor of Gospel contextualization, we rob ourselves of a deeper, more well-rounded understanding of the Gospel. Lesslie Newbigin was a British missionary who lived in the 20th century and served in India for some 40 plus years. He writes in The Open Secret of a mutual benefit for the missionary and the receiving culture. He warned that we must not see our project of contextualizing the Gospel as merely uni-directional. The missionary himself must allow the unique worldview of the receiving culture to critique his own culturally myopic view of the Gospel. The interaction between the cultures of messenger and listener must, of course, be rooted in the Word of God. We all have a tendency to read the Bible through our own cultural lens. After all, we have no other with which to view it. Sometimes a person from another culture will read the same text we do, but come to a somewhat different conclusion on its meaning or implications. This forces both missionary and “native” to continually return to the Word and re-examine their understanding. Could it be that some aspect of what the missionary had hitherto believed is actually a by-product of his own culture's bias, rather than rooted in the Word of God itself? The interchange of contextualization refines and deepens our understanding; the messenger and the receiver both grow together in the Gospel.

As an American missionary who has been on the foreign field for over a third of my life, I can attest to this reality. Only in stepping outside of our own cultural comfort zones can we come to see the flaws inherent within it. The same is true of the American Christian sub-culture. Too many Christians have begun to view the Gospel through the narrow lens of the American-Evangelical sub-culture. What we fail to realize is that ours is also a contextualized understanding of the Gospel. It's simply tuned to the cultural values of middle-class, Western individualism and consumerism. In taking on the daunting, humbling project of contextualizing the Gospel to others, we also open up the possibility of having our own misperceptions corrected. Contextualization done well and humbly leads to a richer insight into the Gospel for both messenger and receiver.

Incarnation Implications

Lastly, when we refuse to embrace the call to contextualize the Gospel, we are rejecting something in the essence of the Gospel itself. It only takes a cursory reading of the book of Acts to see that the early church took contextualization seriously from the beginning. Those parts of the church which refused the project out of a cultural superiority complex quickly cut themselves off from the power and movement of the Holy Spirit. The Judaizers were a prime example of this.

But there is more. By spurning contextualization not only do we ignore the example of the early church; we contradict the nature of the Gospel. There is no greater “contextualization” than the incarnation of Christ. When God came in the flesh, He showed that there was almost no limit to His willingness to contextualize the Gospel so that we might understand. Jesus was not an ethereal philosophy but a flesh-and-blood man who brought the salvation of God into the cultural context of first-century Israel. His message was was spoken in Aramaic, often couched in agrarian parables sensitively honed to the context of His audience.

Early in its history, the church rejected a heresy called “docetism”. This heresy taught that Jesus didn’t really become a man. He merely had the outward appearance of a man, but certainly would never soil His perfect “heavenly culture” with the trappings of human flesh. This heresy was roundly condemned at the council of Nicea. All true Christians today readily acknowledge that God Himself unabashedly took on real flesh, conforming Himself to our cultural forms. But the ironic part is that we are often not willing to similarly humble ourselves. We only grudgingly stoop to contextualize the Gospel to others who are culturally different from us—if we do so at all—though the cost for us is much less than it was for Jesus. While we cling to the doctrine of the incarnation, we deny its implications. Christ took on our cultural forms to bring the Gospel to people who would then continue the project of contextualization to bring the Gospel to the ends of the earth. The Great Commission itself implies the challenge of astutely, winsomely, humbly contextualizing the Gospel. In the end, the call for Christians to embrace the project of Gospel contextualization is merely a call to follow the example of Jesus. “Everyone who is perfectly trained will be like his teacher.” (Lk. 6:40)

I Can't Stand Left Behind Either, But Please Stop Bashing the Rapture: An Eschatological Co-op

2014-10-16T22:29:00.000+03:00

This article is the final part of a three-part series on the pre-trib rapture. Be sure to check out part 1 and part 2 if you missed them.

One of the more gracious articles written on Left Behind's coattails over the last few days had this golden nugget in it: “We need to go out of our way, as Christians, to make sure we don’t explicitly or implicitly demonize the views of other believers on doctrines that are secondary to the faith.” The warning was written to those who believe in a pre-trib rapture and we would do well to heed it. Of course, it applies equally to those who disagree with the pre-trib position. But in this final article in the series, I want to encourage us to go beyond simply not demonizing other positions. I believe we ought to learn to appreciate them—to learn from one another in a sort of eschatological co-op.

Our views on eschatology ultimately come down to how we interpret various passages of Scripture. Again, we ought to each do the hard exegetical work necessary to arrive at the position we believe best lines up with scriptural evidence. We also ought to have enough humility to not only acknowledge problem passages, but also to learn from one another. I personally have friends who represent every eschatological flavor under the sun. Despite our disagreements, our conversations and gracious debates have been of great benefit to me. Each eschatological position has its potential weak points as well as strengths. We need to learn to see both.

What We Can Learn

Disregarding questions of textual interpretation for a moment, let's focus on the emphases and strengths of each position to see what we can learn from one another.

Classic premillennialism (post-trib) offers an emphasis on courage and patience through suffering. Of course, Christians are called to the fellowship of Christ's sufferings in general. But there is a particular boldness in the eschatology that invites Christians to suffer under the severe trials described in the book of Revelation—and says that Christ is worth it. While one might not agree on the chronology, we can certainly learn from their readiness to suffer with Christ. This strength is something often missing from the western church.

I believe amillennialism's greatest strength is in promoting a healthy balance in our relation to the world. This position sees both the millennium and tribulation period as figuratively taking place over the whole course of church history. Nowadays, one often hears in churches of God’s kingdom being both “already” and “not yet”. It is no coincidence that this understanding was largely pioneered by an amillennial theologian, Geerhardus Vos. Again, we may not agree with their interpretations of various passages. But we should emulate amillenialism's balanced approach towards the church’s existence in the world—falling into neither isolating pessimism, nor naive optimism.

Postmillennialism sees the establishment of Christ’s “millennial” kingdom as oсcuring through the church prior to His return. Hence, they believe the return of Christ is after (post-) the millennium. Postmillennialism's hopefulness for the power of God’s work in the world through the church is inspiring. One may disagree with their statements about the consummation of God’s kingdom work through the church. Yet their vision to see God’s kingdom manifest in every sphere of life is certainly one of the strong points of this position. We would do well to learn from this holistic approach to the church’s kingdom work in the world.

It would only be fair along side these other views to highlight the strengths and weaknesses of the pre-trib position as well. One strength is the emphasis on God’s mercy and faithfulness in delivering His church from wrath. Another is the sense of urgency and expectancy that an immanent return conjures in our hearts. Besides this, the pre-trib position has a clear and strong understanding of the fallenness of the world and sets the church forth as a counterculture. Of course, there are potential weak points. If we apply the truth in a selfish way, it can lead to isolationism from the world, or an overly pessimistic expectation regarding God’s work in the world.

I personally hold to the teaching of a pre-trib rapture, believing that it best explains various, sometimes difficult, biblical texts. You may or may not agree. And yet, we all ought to remain humble towards those with differing eschatological views. Humility also means we will remain teachable and allow other views to challenge and correct us. We tend to major in our own strengths and neglect our weakness. An approach that is willing to appreciate and learn from other eschatological positions will lead to greater maturity of faith for all of us. Let's remember that reflecting Christ's character of humility and grace to one another is more important than the timing of when we meet Him. After all, they will know we are His disciples not by our eschatology, but by the love we have for one another.

I Can't Stand Left Behind Either, But Please Stop Bashing the Rapture: What the Rapture is Not About

2014-10-14T21:14:00.000+03:00

This article is the second part of a three-part series on the pre-trib rapture. Be sure to check out part 1 if you missed it.

Many of the Left Behind follow-up articles that have come out over the last few days seem to have a few recurring themes: the rapture is a narrow, American position; it’s all about escapism; it promotes a prosperity-theology-esque avoidance of suffering; it doesn’t care about the rest of the world but just wants a ticket out, etc. You may have noticed that none of these arguments are based on Scripture. And yet, they are important to deal with as commonly met objections to the teaching. Sure, there may be some “Christians” out there who fit these very un-Christian descriptions. But many of those who hold a pre-trib rapture stance (myself included) completely reject these ideas. In this article, I'll deal with some of these criticisms and take a look at what the rapture is not about, before briefly concluding with what it is about.

Arguments from Geography and History

Some of the arguments being leveled against the pre-trib rapture have to do with the history of the teaching.

For example, some have called the rapture an “American idea” and seek to discredit it on that basis. First, the argument is not exactly accurate. American theologian C.I. Scofield is credited with popularizing the teaching of a pre-trib rapture through his Scofield Reference Bible. However, John Darby, an Irish clergyman, is generally accepted as the first modern propagator of a clearly pre-trib rapture teaching.

But even if the argument was accurate, it's a hollow argument. It's like saying that justification by grace alone or the priesthood of all believers are “German ideas” (via Luther) and thereby discredited. The nationality of the first major propagators of any given teaching has no bearing on its validity. One article I read recently in the wake of the Left Behind movie inferred that almost no one outside America holds a pre-trib view and would find such a position absurd. As a missionary who has lived in the former Soviet Union for over a decade, I can tell you this is simply not true. Sure, there is a wide range of eschatological beliefs among Christians here, just as there is in America. But there are plenty who hold to a pre-trib view, and certainly even more who wouldn't “laugh” at the idea, even if they might disagree. So, whatever very limited international experience the (ironically) American writers of these articles are speaking from, I guarantee it's not a representative sampling of the worldwide church.

In a similar vein is the historical argument. Those who criticize the rapture often like to point to the late date of it’s widespread acceptance—as if age is inherently a proof of scriptural accuracy. Yes, it is true that the teaching was only popularized in the 19th century. However, one might just as easily point to the relatively late widespread acceptance of the whole “justified by faith” idea. After all, where was this teaching during the first 1500 years of the church? As Protestants, we would likely argue that it was clearly taught in the NT. We would also underscore that it was taught by a few individuals at various points in church history, but later on was basically forgotten. After all, isn’t that why we needed a reformation? But the same basic arguments could be made for a pre-trib rapture. Understand, I am not claiming that the idea of a pre-trib rapture is anywhere near as biblically explicit or as important as the idea of justification by faith alone. It’s not. My point is simply that “age does not a doctrine make.”

Ad Hominem Arguments

The second class of arguments being used against a pre-trib rapture in some recent articles are ad hominem arguments—attacks against the character of those holding the teaching rather than scriptural arguments against its content.

First, let’s deal with this whole “the rapture is all about getting out of suffering” argument. If some have drawn the false impression from works like Left Behind that believing in Christ means getting out of suffering, they are in for a rude awakening. Jesus Himself promised His followers, “In the world you will have tribulation”—not “might”, but “will”. To follow Jesus at all means to “take up your cross and deny yourself.” Even more blatant are Paul’s words: “We must through many tribulations enter the kingdom of God.” None of that sounds like a fast track to the easy life. Movies like Left Behind, especially because they are taken out of a full scriptural context, may leave the impression that receiving Jesus leads to an easy life. But most Christians who are serious about their faith do not hold any such delusions—whether they are pre-trib or not.

Another rapture article I read inferred that those who believe in a pre-trib rapture must have a heart calloused toward the world. This is close to libel. I’ll concede that some “Christians” who generally buy into a Jesus-wants-you-to-drive-a-Lexus-and-win-the-state-football-championship theology may look at the rapture as the ultimate ticket to easy street. However, I don’t honestly know of a single pre-tribulationist who even vaguely sees the rapture as a cosmic “so long, suckers!” to the unbelieving world as we fly up to meet Jesus.

In my experience, the perceived nearness of God’s judgment upon the unbelieving world generally makes believers more zealous about calling people to repent and receive God’s mercy. Sure, sometimes that zeal may lead to misguided use of scare-tactics, but the same is true for Christians of any eschatological stripe. After all, hell is a real threat regardless of when the rapture occurs. My guess is that the only people gloating over unbelievers being “left behind” are people made of straw. In other words, there are no such Christians. They are figments of the rapture-bashers’ imagination. Or, if they do exist somewhere, their gloating against non-Christians shows that they themselves will also be among those “left behind”. That is, they do not actually know Christ nor share His compassion for the lost.

A final argument I need to address is the argument from “weirdness”. I’m referring to the argument sometimes used against a pre-trib rapture position that it is supposedly far too outlandish or “goofy” to be scriptural. Granted, movies like Left Behind don't help the whole “goofy” stigma. But “it’s weird” doesn't pass for a valid theological argument. We serve a God who became a baby, walked on water, spit in people’s eyes to heal them, talked with demons, and rose from the dead. “Weirdness” is not an argument we get to use.

What the Rapture Is Really About

I’ve already hinted at it, but let me say it very clearly: the pre-trib rapture is about the grace of God. Accusing those who believe in a pre-trib rapture of not caring about the lost or seeking an easy escape is missing the whole point.

Pre-tribulationists believe that the seven-year tribulation period described in the book of Revelation is a literal time period. We also believe that it’s a time when God pours out His wrath on the world. (Rev. 6:16-17) 1 Thes. 5:9 says, “For God did not appoint us to wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ.” We believe that we will not be recipients of God's wrath during the tribulation period because we are delivered from it by the Gospel of grace. Granted, other eschatological systems may have other ways of explaining how the church is protected from the wrath of God in the “tribulation”. (If they don’t, they've got much more serious problems than the timing of the rapture.) But the rapture is not about escapism—not any more than all believers being eternally rescued from the wrath of God is a question of "escapism". The fact that other Christians believe God will rescue them from His wrath at all puts us in the same boat. Therefore, our differences with those of other eschatological persuasions are ones of timing and method, not of essence. We ought to all be willing to approach the question from this common ground and drop the arguments that are not rooted in Scripture. They only serve to alienate us from one another and do nothing to biblically support any position.

In the next and final part of this series, I'll take a look how we can learn to appreciate one another's varying eschatological positions and grow in our faith through humble dialog.

I Can’t Stand Left Behind Either, But Please Stop Bashing the Rapture: A Level Playing Field

2014-10-11T00:10:00.000+03:00

It seems like the latest film re-incarnation of Tim LaHaye’s Christian novel series Left Behind has brought the pre-tribulation-rapture-critics out of the woodwork. Let me say this up front: I can’t stand Left Behind. Granted, I have not seen the latest re-hash—nor do I plan to. But while Nicholas Cage may be mildly more talented than Kirk Cameron (probably), I really doubt that a new cast, larger budget or improved special effects will help much. If you are one of those Christians who just loves the books or movies, sorry. Schmaltz is not my thing.

But my biggest qualm is that this latest rendering of very poor Christian “art” has turned the idea of the rapture into the latest blogosphere punching bag. This is known as a straw man argument—taking a weak or even caricatured presentation of a position and knocking it down triumphantly. Discrediting the idea of a pre-tribulational (pre-trib from here on) rapture on the basis of the Left Behind movie would be tantamount to saying that we ought to reject a post-tribulation rapture position because there are plenty of people that believe we need to go through it to accomplish our full purification. It would be like bashing postmillennialism because there are a handful of prosperity gospel teachers out there who espouse it, or picking at amillennialism because it's the eschatology of those who worship Mary and accomplish salvation by the addition of their own works. This is, of course, all just a bunch of mudslinging which does nothing to really ground any of these teachings in Scripture. Neither does it prove the nobility of anyone’s eschatological cause. On the contrary, it just makes us look petty and certainly does not reflect a spirit of Christian love and unity.

Rather than trying to exhaustively prove a pre-trib rapture position, I want to look at a few of the issues surrounding the recent discussion of this doctrine and hopefully encourage a more positive dialog on eschatological (end-times) questions. In this first post, I'll be laying out why we should approach the various viewpoints on a level playing field. In part two of this series, I'll deal with some of the recent criticisms of the teaching of the rapture and what the doctrine is really about. And in the third and final post, we'll look at how we can actually benefit from one another's differing eschatological viewpoints in humble dialog.

Let’s Be Honest

I’ll be the first to admit that there are biblical problem passages for the pre-trib rapture view. But there are problem passages for all the other eschatological views as well.

For example, the post-tribulation rapture view (or so-called “classic premillennialism”) has to deal with the issue of “not knowing the day or the hour” of Christ’s return. This position tends to take Revelation more literally than some other views. It generally affirms belief in a literal, seven-year tribulation period. However, if there is a literal seven-year tribulation period, one cannot help but conclude that counting down the thoroughly quantified 1260 days/42 months/3.5 years of Revelation (the second half of the seven-year tribulation period) would lead one to know the exact day of Christ’s return.

The amillennial position does not escape problems either. Passages in Isaiah foretell of a time after Messiah’s return where death and other remnants of the curse are nevertheless present on earth. These are a challenge for the most creative of amillennial interpreters to explain. If, as they affirm, the second advent of Christ is the beginning of the eternal kingdom and total restoration of creation with no intermediate millennial period, then these passages seem to imply that there are a few things Christ doesn’t fix.

Postmillennialism also has some scriptural challenges. (I’m not including the full preterist version in this discussion, which, based on the criteria of The Apostles’ and Nicean Creeds, is probably worthy of the label “heresy”.) Not least among these challenges is the biblical picture of the return of Christ putting an end to the tide of wickedness and destruction, destroying armies of those who are in rebellion against God. Certainly such passages do not bode well for a position that speaks of a golden age of ever-increasing Christian faith, morality, and societal improvement on the earth prior to Christ’s return.

So when posts about the problem passages for a pre-trib view give the impression that there are no similar problems for other views, it just seems disingenuous. My goal in these brief points is not to lay out an exhaustive defense of the pre-trib rapture position over against other commonly held eschatological views. Neither is it to attack any of the aforementioned positions. It is merely to say that we all have passages that are difficult to deal with. While we ought not shy away from working through these texts and challenging one another to dig deeper, there is no justification for pretending like any position is as biblically airtight as the existence of God or that all other positions are laughable.

Next time I'll lay out some of the points of criticism being mentioned recently against a pre-trib rapture and look at what the teaching is really about.

Vapor

2013-11-15T00:07:00.001+02:00

Tonight I was sorting through old pictures on my laptop in an attempt to free up some disk space. In the process, I re-encountered some bits and pieces of life I had captured in photos. What I thought was going to be a menial, organizational task of rearranging and consolidating files and folders turned out to be something quite different. I was caught off guard by what ended up being a deeply emotional and contemplative experience.

As I scanned through the pictures, I often laughed out loud (quietly since it's late and everyone else in my house is asleep) at the unfettered zaniness of my kids and the pure joy in their smiles caught on camera. I was nearly in disbelief as I compared pictures of my daughter where she barely came up to my wife's waist from what seems like not so long ago and from this year where she is practically at her shoulder's height. I looked through pictures of our family, and the church which has become our family, with deep gratitude and hopefulness. Seeing a sort of slideshow of where God has brought us and knowing I deserve none of it renews my amazement at the graciousness my Father. As I looked at pictures of young kids from the church who are now teenagers and will soon be adults, I thought about the seeds we are sowing for the future of these young people and the legacy we will leave.

And to be honest, all these snapshots of life also broke my heart. It broke not at the remembrance of any particular person whom I will no longer see in this world, though there were those pictures. But it broke at seeing in an instant the brevity of life, how quickly it all rushes by... I cannot comprehend how those without the hope of eternity cope with this overwhelming reality, unless their tactic is simply do their best to forget or pretend it isn't there. James writes, "For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away." How profoundly, tragically true.

But the beautiful thing is that this fleeting vapor will not be the end for those who have hope in Christ. All the things we wished we could've started but now it's too late, all the things we dreamed of accomplishing but never found time for, all the things we worked on and gave our lives to but never got to finish... will not be lost. Instead, all the hollow, hopeless vanity that makes your heart sink as you wonder what happened to the years and stare in the mirror at a person who you know can't be you, will be cast off like a winter coat on the first warm day of spring. The relentless march of time and decay and death will be turned backward. The One who conquered the grave will lift us up to an everlasting hope. The vapor that is life will congeal into something solid and vibrant and enduring, which can be threatened no more. This is resurrection. This is the promise of grace.

JRR Tolkien wrote a short story about a painter named Niggle who began a painting of a tree during his life, but because of distraction and lack of time and other duties was never able to complete it. In fact, he only ever completed one leaf to his satisfaction. The time for Niggle's journey comes upon him, though he is not ready and unprepared and regrets not ever having finished that painting his heart truly longed to create. But at the end of his journey, he discovers he has been brought to the country of his tree. There it stands, real, perfect and complete, yet only one of a whole forest. Niggle realizes that his vision of the tree before his journey was just the beginning and he can live in and continue in the fullness of the dream which he had captured but a leaf of during his life. That tree of life and hope is waiting for us because the Eternal One tasted vanity and death on the Tree of Calvary. Our vapor will be turned to life because His life was made a vapor.

An Open Letter to George Bryson

2013-05-25T07:52:00.002+03:00

Dear George,

You don’t know me even though I have received many emails from you over the last months. I am a Calvary Chapel pastor whose email I assume you got off the CCA website. I have thought and prayed many times about responding to some of your email articles. There has honestly been so much you have written, I find it perplexing to know where to start. Perhaps I should start with why I have chosen to answer at all. I believe that you love the Lord and care very deeply for the Calvary Chapel movement. Though I have not been a part of the movement as long as you have, I also care deeply for it. That is, after all, why I am a Calvary Chapel pastor. In writing this response, I do not harbor illusions that you will fully agree with everything I have to say. Neither do I believe it necessary that you do so. What I do hope to do, if only slightly, is change the tone of the conversation that you have been having (via your articles) to a more congenial one; one that reflects the fact that we are all brothers who love the Lord and love the Calvary Chapel movement. I pray that, by the grace of God, you would be open to consider what I have to say. And though most of the other CC pastors I’ve spoken with on these questions would agree with the stances laid out here, I do not claim to speak for any other pastors or group other than myself. I will break this article in to various sections and try to keep them brief so as not to create a book. ;)

Why an open letter?

Since you have been sending emails, I suppose the first question is: why answer with an open letter? First, you have not only sent emails but also published many of your articles on your website, calvarychapeltheology.com, though with no ability to leave comments. The unfortunate thing about this method is that you have effectively made any kind of dialogue impossible, except at the personal level for those who chose to respond to your emails. That means that, as a collective group of pastors, we all are left to the impressions of what “the majority” think which you lay out in your emails, without actually hearing from the majority. (I can only assume that you are sending these emails to all CC pastors, though I have heard from some that they have not received your emails. But this is likely just because they are getting caught by spam filters.) By writing an open letter, I hope to encourage a dialogue rather than each side ranting in isolation from the other. One thing I am sure of is that unless we are willing to respectfully and graciously talk about these important issues in an open and frank manner, the only thing that can come of this is more division. Each side sitting in their respective bunker, lobbing verbal grenades at the other, will not make for a healthier, more vibrant CC. Most importantly, there is nothing that glorifies Christ in that kind of approach.

Common ground

I hope you will not think me overly “ecumenical” for trying to point out the common ground that we share, before dealing with differences of opinion. First let me say, there are a number of points that you have made in your articles that I heartily agree with. For starters, you made a point about the difference in viewpoints among CC pastors not being a question of age. I wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps some CC pastors have bought into the myth that the difference being discussed is purely a generational one. I agree with you that it is not. I have met both more seasoned CC pastors whom you would disagree with (more on that later), as well as younger pastors who would lean more towards the ideas presented in your articles.

Another point you have brought up is that CC is at a crossroads. I think we can all agree on that. Though pastor Chuck, by God’s grace, is still with us, none of us (including him, I'm sure) are under the delusion that this can last indefinitely. As is always the case whenever the leader whom God has used to birth a movement goes to inherit his eternal reward, CC, too, will be entering and indeed has begun already to enter into a phase of transition leading up to and reaching this bittersweet event. (Bitter for us who will miss pastor Chuck. Sweet for him as he goes to be in the presence of the Lord.)

A final point I will mention with which I am in agreement is the point you have stressed that each CC is an independent, locally-governed expression of the body of Christ. CC and pastor Chuck have always affirmed this and that CC is not a denomination. Though in a movement of our size there are certain aspects that, for practical reasons, may resemble a denomination, each church is indeed independent. I believe this point to have important ramifications for some of the questions you have brought up and I will return to it later.

More similar than dissimilar

Surely there are many other points that I could mention that we would be in agreement on. In fact, the large majority of points we would agree on. After all, we are both part of not merely the universal body of Christ but the specific branch of that known as CC. One would hope that this fact alone would be enough to dissuade you from speaking about other, fellow-CC pastors in the adversarial tone that you have taken in some of your emails (though not in all.) To be fair, some of the quotes that you gave from those who you see as representing the “other side” were also less than loving and certainly did not reflect a spirit of humility or seeking to disagree as brothers, rather than as enemy combatants. My plea to you as well as to those on the other side would be to tone down the rhetoric. We are brothers in Christ. Moreover, we are pastors within the same movement of churches. We can and must dialogue openly about the important issues and changes that we are beginning to face if we hope to face them in a way that will strengthen us as a movement rather than tear us apart. Those who claim to uphold an inclusive spirit would do well to live in that spirit toward not only those who agree with them, otherwise there is not much meaning to it.

On this note we come to the issues you’ve been focusing on. You have specifically criticized CC pastors who are seeking to find some kind of common ground with other pastors and leaders from Acts 29, The Gospel Coalition, etc. Here’s the question that I believe we need to ask ourselves: do we have more in common with these brothers than we do dissimilar?

Now, to deal with it right away, these groups are not ashamed about their identity as Reformed Christians (though they do claim to be “broadly Reformed”… more on that later.) You mentioned in one article that some CC pastor(s) said to you that Acts 29 and Mark Driscoll are not Reformed. I can only believe that this pastor had very little knowledge of who Driscoll is and what he teaches (or what “Reformed” means. ;) Driscoll is, by his own words, unabashedly Reformed, though not holding to the extreme expressions/teachings of that position.

Allow me to return to my previous question via a bit of a personal illustration. I pastor a CC in Ukraine. As one who has served for years in Russia, I'm sure you can appreciate the cultural context in which I serve. It will not surprise you to hear that the majority of people surrounding me are Eastern Orthodox. Without getting into a lot of unnecessary detail for the uninitiated, let’s just say that this is a religion of heavy legalism. People are saved, if they are saved at all (there is never any guarantee), by doing good works, keeping rituals, etc. It is a synergistic view of salvation, and a semi-pelagian view of human nature. The sad part is that this is nearly true of most of the “Evangelical” churches here. Though people are told that God will forgive their sins if they repent, they are very quickly shut off from the fount of grace and told that if they wish to keep their salvation, they must work for it. The majority of Christians live in constant fear that they might lose their salvation at any turn. They live under self-condemnation and have all but abandoned the good news of the Gospel of grace. They are clinging on with the faintest remnant of hope in some kind of mercy, if not having abandoned said hope all together. And if they are confident in it, all the worse, because this confidence is often based on their own devotion and activity, rather than the work of Christ. This is really regardless of what expression or denomination within Evangelicalism these believers are part of.

But besides the CC’s and a few other non-denominational churches here, there is generally one exception to this rule of legalism: Reformed churches. Though their understanding of the exact manner in which a believer first comes to trust in grace does differ from the understanding in CC (more on that later), the Reformed churches seem to be some of the only churches besides CC in my country where believers are not neck-deep in legalism and thinking that they may lose their salvation at any turn. They are different from CC in some important ways, and yet there seems to be present a confidence in God’s grace as the sole foundation of our salvation which we share with them. There is a clear renunciation of our works as even a partial basis for either obtaining justification or continuing in it.

So to answer the question, do we have more things similar or dissimilar with our brothers and sisters of the Reformed persuasion, I have to come down on the side of saying that we have overwhelmingly more that’s in common than what separates us, and that what we have in common is that which is most important: the grace of God. And if that is the case, should we not seek at least some form of dialogue, goodwill and even cooperation and partnership with these brothers and sisters? An attempt to separate ourselves from all who do not agree with us in every stance would turn us into a sect.

“Ecumenism”: an Evangelical’s four-letter word

You have adopted the term in many of your email articles saying that there are those within CC who support an “ecumenical position”. It may be that you chose this word as a sort of shorthand to describe an attempt to find greater common ground with Evangelical Christians outside of CC, but that is certainly not the picture this word conjures in the minds of many Evangelicals. Like many things in the western church, at some point this question was polarized into two camps: fundamentalists and liberal theologians/ecumenicals. The word “ecumenical” for many conjures up overtones of universalism, the World Council of Churches and throwing doctrine out the window. Therefore, perhaps your use of the word was unintentionally provocatory, but it was provocatory nonetheless. Moreover, it was likely the wrong word.

Ecumenism is rigidly defined as the movement to unite all Christians into one church. I would be willing to bet that there is not a single CC pastor out there who thinks that EVERY person who calls themselves a Christian ought to just ignore our differences and all meld into one big, vague, Christian-esque conglomeration. You, I'm sure, realize that no pastor in CC is proposing such a thing.

It would be much more helpful for us in this conversation rather than firing off polarizing terms like “ecumenical” or “fundamentalist” to realize that the reality is not two, exclusive camps, but rather a whole spectrum of positions, ranging from the most extreme forms of isolationism on the one end to the most amorphous universalism on the other. The first extreme is well represented by the Roman Catholic Church before Vatican II. It was taught that, outside her structures, no one even knew Christ or could have salvation. On the other extreme are the universalists and the rigid definition of ecumenism that say that all should just be part of one and doctrine doesn’t matter. CC has never held either of these positions and I would like to believe that there is not a single CC pastor who would affirm either of these positions today. So the proper question is not “are we ecumenical”. The very fact that we recognize the reality of born-again believers who are part of other denominations and movements than our own already puts us further along the “ecumenical” scale than was common in much of church history.

In fact, in the beginning of CC’s doctrinal statement, there is a line about how “we are not a denominational church, nor are we opposed to denominations as such, only to their overemphasis of the doctrinal differences that have led to the division of the Body of Christ.” You have claimed to represent a position you label as “stay the course”, claiming to represent some “original” set of CC values. The truth is that one of the greatest values in CC and what pastor Chuck always taught was a spirit of graciousness and cooperation towards other Christian groups outside our own. It would therefore seem that you, George, are actually attempting to “change the course” by proposing a much less gracious, more isolated and more divisive stance towards other Christians groups, particularly Reformed ones, than we were all taught in CC through pastor Chuck and others. Now, you might think it beneficial for CC to go in that direction (I disagree), but please at least be honest enough not to call it “keeping the course” when it is nothing of the sort.

Judging the thoughts and intents of the heart

It’s a familiar phrase that describes the Word of God in Heb. 4. The problem comes when men put themselves in a role that belongs to God. In your articles you have, in my opinion, tragically attempted to do this to your brothers. You have asserted and implied motives to a number of CC pastors of attempting to purposefully split the movement, of trying to “sneak in” Reformed soteriology, etc. The simple fact of the matter is, George, that you are not capable of seeing the intentions of peoples’ hearts. Again, I do not believe that you are doing this as a consciously false accusation against anyone (though some of those pastors you imply accusations against have said that your accusations are baseless, which does make them false.) I do not want to attempt to judge your motives, but I am willing to assume the best of you and consider that you are doing it out of a true concern for CC, even if it’s a mistaken concern. Nevertheless, you have taken it upon yourself to judge the intentions of the hearts of some of CC’s finest leaders and pastors.

Not only in CC, but you have essentially accused some of the leaders of the Reformed camp of trying to creep in and subvert CC. Again, you not only have no evidence for this kind of accusation of the inner intentions of other leaders, which you cannot possibly know, but you also have no right biblically to put yourself a position which belongs to God. I will not repeat your mistake in accusing you of any motives which I cannot possibly know. However, I would say that, whatever your motives, the action itself is wrong. While a healthy debate over actions, policy, etc. could be useful, your approach of assuming others’ motives and then accusing them over the very motives you, for all we know, made up or misconstrued, is dishonest and unloving. Strangely, in a couple of your email articles you have proceeded to accuse leaders both in CC and outside of rather malicious intentions and then tried to justify it with “well, if it’s not true, let him/them write me and say so.” So much for innocent until proven guilty, eh? I would urge you to cease this kind of approach for your own sake, since what you are doing is called libel and could realistically expose you to law suits (though I'm pretty sure none of the men you are directing this libel at would stoop to that level). But more importantly, there is nothing virtuous or Christ-like about it.

Straw men

In some of your articles you have attempted to argue against “Reformed theology” as a whole. However, you have often taken the most extreme forms of Reformed theology and tried to imply that all Reformed people must believe this. The truth is that there is a good deal of variety even on soteriological questions among “Reformed” believers (or those who would label themselves as such.) Ascribing to someone an extreme doctrinal position they do not hold, only to then take it apart is not only bad form in debate (straw men), but it is dishonest.

There is also some confusion in this approach since you’ve stated that anything less than an extreme position is not true “Reformed” theology. Here’s my question, George: if these people are not “true Calvinists”, then why do you still have a problem with the idea of cooperation with them?

You have stated that all 5 of the points of TULIP stand together as a whole and cannot be separated. But CC itself is proof that this is not true. In his book, Calvinism, Arminianism and the Word of God, Chuck Smith lays out that we, as CC, agree with some of the points of TULIP but not others (more on this later.) So obviously it IS possible to hold some and not others. Perhaps you intended to imply that the 5 points are a logical set. One might then even argue that doctrines such as double predestination (reprobation) or supralapsarianism are part and parcel to the logical set, as you seem to imply in one of your articles quoting an author who holds these positions.

The question though is, are they a biblical set? I would argue no. However, I would also argue that the points of Arminianism are not a biblical set. The truth is that any believer ought to always seek to hold a biblical set of beliefs rather than a logical set. Taking any one teaching of the Bible and drawing it out ad absurdum will result in errors. Most Reformed believers would not agree with the extreme theological positions you have implied that all Reformed people must hold. Rather, they would state at some point that we come to the end of our understanding and we hold certain truths together, though we can’t explain or reconcile them to the end. Those in CC do the same (or at least ought to), though we might draw that line at a slightly different place. However, your attempts to argue against the Reformed camp by creating a straw man, presenting the most extreme versions and then proceeding to attack the Reformed community as a whole based on that are misrepresentative at best and dishonest and insulting at worst.

Calvary Chapel soteriology

This brings us to the soteriological questions themselves. This will actually be a short section in my response, because someone has already written it for me: Chuck Smith. CC has already had an answer to the soteriological question for some time. In fact, in the days of CCOF, Calvinism, Arminianism and the Word of God was one of the required reading books and agreement with its stance was implied in becoming affiliated with CC. CC has always disagreed with 2 of the 5 points of Calvinism. But that also means that we AGREE with 3 of 5 (though, granted, the 5^th point on preservation of the saints is not answered unambiguously in the book and different CC pastors have different opinions on that question.)

What concerns me is that you seem to be attacking ALL the points of Calvinism, which by default would make you an Arminian. I'm curious, George, do you consider yourself such? However, Chuck has clearly written in that book against Arminian soteriology as well, so if that is what you are advocating, then it is you, George, who is seeking to “change the course.” There was a very well thought-out explanation of CC soteriology posted on calvarychapel.com a while back called “Soteriology in the Middle”. These posts were lucid explanations in harmony with Calvinism, Arminianism and the Word of God. (On a historical note, I'd add that in the whole Calvinism vs. Arminianism debate, we’re overlooking the Lutheran soteriological position stated in the Formula of Concord. Those interested to investigate its chapter on election will find it strikingly similar to CC’s position.)

Now, I would agree with you that anyone who is a 5-point Calvinist and a CC pastor (if there are any such pastors) would most likely be better suited to join a network that is clearly Reformed. They will be more comfortable in such a network. The same thing goes for any who consider themselves Arminian. They ought to find a network that clearly supports that position. You should walk in what you believe God has called you to. I would add, however, that though we don’t need to pretend to be exactly the same as these groups (on either side) we ought to be willing to partner together to whatever extent the Lord reveals to any given local CC with all those who love the Gospel of grace. And here we come to the next point…

Making denominations

I have stated that I agree with you that CC is not a denomination, nor was it ever intended to be. I believe almost every CC pastor would agree with this. Of course, being the sizeable movement we are, some organizational structures similar to a denomination are necessary, or it all just becomes chaotic. However, I am honestly confused by your affirmation of the independence of each, local CC and your seeming attempt to create a denominational charter statement and have pastors sign up. CC ALREADY HAS a common statement of faith. What it seems that you are doing, George, is trying to create a new one to your own liking.

Obviously there are some common doctrinal beliefs that make one a CC. However, it seems that you are attempting to go beyond doctrine by dictating very particular practices for partnerships in ministry and policy concerning the personal life of a pastor. The CC statement of faith speaks of a gracious and cooperative attitude towards other Christian groups. You seem to want to codify a position of isolation from them and non-cooperation. Besides the obvious problem of this being a divisive, un-Christ-like position, it also seems to assume some denominational structure where someone from on high is telling local CC churches whom they can and cannot cooperate with.

Similarly, you have suggested a no alcohol policy for all CC senior pastors. I do not wish to enter into the arguments of such a position here, though I assume every CC pastor would acknowledge that the Bible nowhere states that mere consumption of alcohol is sin. My only point in bringing that out is that, since it is not a question the Bible clearly forbids, this kind of policy ought to be decided by each individual pastor/elders at the local level, unless you are actually advocating that CC become a denomination and dictate such policies. So, when you state in some of your articles that you are against the idea of CC becoming a denomination, I would like to believe you, but the approach to policy that you are taking seems to suggest the opposite.

Chuck’s approval

With every one of your articles, you have mentioned that you give it to pastor Chuck to “approve”. However, the way you are presenting this is not likely what is meant. Knowing Chuck’s gracious attitude, I can imagine him saying something like, “George, if you feel like you should send this, go for it.” That, however, is far from an “approval” or agreement with your articles. In fact, I happen to know that pastor Chuck has said to another staff pastor at CCCM, “George Bryson does not speak for me.” The way you have positioned yourself in your email articles, however, is as the sole, faithful representative of pastor Chuck. This seems like misrepresentation at best and dishonesty at worst.

My greater concern is that pastor Chuck may have had the real issues facing CC misrepresented to him by you. We’ve all received a couple letters now from pastor Chuck. While the exact message of these letters may be debated, the one thing that is clear from these letters is that pastor Chuck doesn’t want to see division, so my plea to you, George, is to do your part to stop causing it. I hope you believe me when I say that I do believe that you love CC and want the best for it. I feel like many of the questions you’ve brought up have been presented in your email articles in a way that was unnecessarily divisive and sometimes misrepresentative. I do hope that you’ll take into consideration the points I’ve brought up. I’ve tried to be respectful in my tone in this article towards you as an older brother in the Lord and fellow minister, however if I have managed to be offensive in some way, please know that was not my intent and I would ask your forgiveness for that. My prayer is that as a movement we can learn to move forward in a spirit of love and graciousness towards one another as we work through these issues. I do welcome feedback to this open letter from you, George, as well as from any one else (especially CC pastors) who would like to take part. My only request is that, despite your opinion on these questions, everyone would keep their tone respectful and try to approach any discussion in a spirit that would honor Christ and our unity as brothers.

My final request is to pastor Chuck himself: We have been blessed that God has placed you as the leader of this movement. As a movement, we are in need of clarity at this point, due to much confusion that has been engendered. Please speak clearly and boldly on these questions and do not allow them to be swept along by the wave of division.

I will end with a quote from pastor Chuck himself at the end of Calvinism, Arminianism and the Word of God that, in light of the current debate, seems nearly prophetic:

“To say what God says in the Bible - no more and no less - is not always easy, comfortable, or completely understandable. But Scripture tells us that the wisdom from above will be loving and kind toward all, seeking the unity of the believers, not trying to find ways to divide and separate from one another. May God help us all to love each other, to be kind, tenderhearted, forgiving one another as Jesus Christ has forgiven us (Ephesians 4:32)! In difficult doctrinal matters, may we have gracious attitudes and humble hearts, desiring most of all to please Him who has called us to serve Him in the body of Christ. Discussion - YES! Disagreements - YES! Division - NO!

Jesus said, "By their fruit ye shall know them." When a particular position on the Scriptures causes one to become argumentative, legalistic, and divisive, I question the validity of that position. I seek to embrace those things that tend to make me more loving and kind, more forgiving and merciful. I know then that I am becoming more like my Lord. If you have come to a strong personal conviction on one side of a doctrinal issue, please grant us the privilege of first seeing how it has helped you to become more Christ-like in your nature, and then we will judge whether we need to come to that same persuasion. Let us always be certain to look at the fruit of the teaching.

Seek those things that produce the loving nature of Jesus in our lives. I would rather have the wrong facts and a right attitude, than right facts and a wrong attitude. God can change my understanding of the facts in a moment, but it often takes a lifetime to effect changes of attitude.”

In Jesus,

Benjamin Morrison

Pastor of CC Svitlovodsk, Ukraine

Why I'm Glad the Church Is Shrinking

2012-10-15T00:31:00.000+03:00

I had not actually planned to write a post on this. I assumed that someone, or rather plenty of someones, would be offering up their thoughts on the silver lining of this statistical cloud. I was surprised to find that in most of the commentaries and articles I read no one was doing this, but that most of what I was hearing was lamenting or coping strategies. In case you missed the report, the official number of Protestant Christians in America has dipped below 50% of the population for the first time "ever" (by which I take it to mean since the European settlers ran all the Native American pagans out. ;) The general reaction to this news from most Christians seems to be a mix of despair, self-castigation for not doing a better job, warnings of impending doom, and calls to redouble our efforts at discipleship. Though this loss of majority privilege might certainly provoke some Christians to examine ourselves and how we are answering the call of the Great Commission to make disciples (something we should've been doing without statistical provocation), I believe it is no reason to despair, but, if anything, to be glad.

First we need to understand what this statistical shift signifies. Is what we are seeing a mass exodus of true believers from the church? A large-scale apostasy? I'd wager not. The fact is, the statistics show that 48% of America still self-identifies as Protestant. If that number doesn't seem outright laughable, you have a poor definition of what Protestant means. Nowhere near even that many are. It used to be (and for quite a few Americans still is) that to be born in the USA is to be a Protestant. There was a time when you couldn't get a bank loan without membership at a church, or at the very least a synagogue. (Did we really think that policy was bound to make sincere and deep Christians?) Wikipedia defines a Protestant as a member in "any of several church denominations denying the universal authority of the Pope and affirming the Reformation principles of justification by faith alone, the priesthood of all believers, and the primacy of the Bible as the only source of revealed truth." Do we really think that even close to 48% of the population of the country believe these things (with exception to the point about the pope ;)? It would be wonderful, but such is not the case.

So what's happening is NOT a decline of real, Protestant believers, but a purging of nominal Christians. This statistical decline depicts not the death of the church, but rather of Christendom: a society-wide structure based on some generic Christian values in which everyone considers themselves Christian by default, simply because they were born into the system. But the reality is there are no default Christians! You don't get to call yourself a Protestant just because you were born in America and hold some vaguely Christians understandings, the same way you don't get to call yourself a fish just because you were born in the bathtub and like to swim on vacation. The issue is that in America, the default religion is Protestantism, the same way that in Italy it's Catholicism (88%) or in Ukraine it's Eastern Orthodoxy (around 70%). But the truth is that in none of these countries does even a fraction of the population actually and sincerely believe in the teachings of its particular default religion. That is, they are nominal - believers in name only. So what is responsible for this trend in America?

One commentary on the new statistics from the linked article lays it out this way:

"'Part of what's going on here is that the stigma associated with not being part of any religious community has declined,' said John Green, a specialist in religion and politics at the University of Akron, who advised Pew on the survey. 'In some parts of the country, there is still a stigma. But overall, it's not the way it used to be.'"

In other words, now that you don't need to be a member of a church to get a bank loan, the people who were in the church only for superficial reasons linked with Christendom are leaving. Nominal Christians no longer have to keep up the pretense because the belief that to be a decent American means you must go to church on Sunday has all but disappeared. What that inevitably means is that, while the numbers of people who call themselves Protestant may be declining, the number of real believers is not. In fact, there are at least two reasons why this trend is positive.

First, this presents an exciting opportunity to share the Gospel. There is practically no one harder to share the Gospel with than someone who thinks they already know it but doesn't; with someone who thinks they are already a Christian but they aren't. At least when someone says they are not a Christian or believe in "nothing in particular", there is a possibility of an honest dialogue. But it is often much harder to tell someone who thinks he's a Christian that he needs to become a Christian. I would personally much rather have a conversation with someone who recognizes Christianity and the Gospel as something they don't currently believe and is willing to debate it with me than try to convince someone who is simply putting on the Christian show that they are not actually a Christian. History bears out this sharp and honest distinction as beneficial. It was the prostitutes and thieving tax collectors who came to Jesus, not the Pharisees who thought they were already good to go. It was, ultimately and generally speaking, the Gentiles of places like Corinth that were more open to Paul's message than the population of Jerusalem (though there were certainly not a few of the Jewish people who came to faith as well.) Even in our own days, the growth rate of the Evangelical church is highest in countries that are NOT part of the Christendom structure. Of course, the residual problem in America is that many of even those who no longer affiliate with the Protestant church think they know what the Gospel is. Therefore, the exodus of nominal Christians from the church is not a panacea to this problem, but at least they aren't lying to themselves anymore about believing it, and that's a step in the right direction.

The second reason we should be glad for this change is that, ultimately, this trend will beautify the church. If those who are not serious about faith in Christ, those who were Protestant in name only or were so out of a vague sense of patriotic affiliation leave the church, that means that the people who stay will be more and more those who truly love Jesus and want to worship Him with their lives. Granted, there will still be plenty of nominal Christians in the church unless some kind of serious persecution begins, but nevertheless, the trend of the church being pruned of dead branches will ultimately lead to a greater vibrancy, attractiveness to those outside, and therefore fruitfulness. Pruning might be painful, but it is a reason for hope, not for despair. It is a condition of life, not a mark of death. It seems to me the reason that many Christians begin to panic over these statistics is that we, in a stereotypical super-size mentality, often confuse quantity with quality and think that bigger numbers must necessarily mean the church is better off when this is very contradictory to the biblical picture. In fact, the stated preference of God in Scripture is that people who come in vain would do better to stop pretending and just not come (Mal. 1:10 and Rev. 3:15-16 come to mind.)

So though the pruning process might not be fun, might entail some real pain for churches and truly require us to adapt in order to be witnesses in a "post-Christian" society, the truth is that society was never "Christian" in the first place, only "Christianized" and that this change is ultimately not something to fear or cause despair, but to applaud, because ultimately it just means that people are finally getting honest with themselves and others and that's something we should all be able to agree is a good thing.

Review of Center Church by Tim Keller

2012-09-28T01:56:00.000+03:00

I can't remember ever winning anything for free in my life. I recently entered a drawing for a free copy of Tim Keller's Center Church at this blog. When I showed up at my local post office to pick up a package a month or so later, I had forgotten all about it. Then I opened the package to find this wonderful surprise inside. I have to say, having read so far only a third of it (it is by far Keller's thickest book and I am a slow reader), I would gladly pay many times the cover price for this brilliant resource. (Btw, EVERY page in my copy is as marked up as the picture above. The whole book should just come dipped in highlighter ink. ;) The only stipulation for those who won the drawing was to write a review of the book during the week of Sept. 24th, hence my review being written before I am actually done with the book.

Full disclosure: I am a Keller fan... as in he is hands down my favorite living teacher. I've listened to literally hundreds of his sermons and used some of his materials for courses I've taught in the church I pastor in Ukraine. For those of you who listen to Keller, you may be wondering how much of the material in this book you've heard before. So far (I'm on chapter 10), I'd say that I've heard about 75% of the material in the book in various sermons of his, particularly the Preaching Christ in a Postmodern World course he did with Ed Clowney, the Blueprint for Spiritual Revival series, and the Redeemer conferences. However, the way that this book synthesizes all this incredible material and fills it out makes it not redundant in the least but rather enriching and engaging. I realize it may sound a bit presumptuous for only having read a third of the book, but in my opinion this could very well be the most important book for ministers to read outside the Bible. Yes, it really is that good.

The introduction very succinctly lays out the explanation of the title of the book: that proper balance in ministry is necessary for fruitfulness. The three balances are on the axes of Gospel, City and Movement. The balance he refers to in each can be summed up in the following premises:

1) We preach neither legalism nor license, but the Gospel (which Keller rightly points out later is technically not "in between" these two options, but a completely different thing all together.)

2) We neither capitulate to culture not insulate from it, but seek to redeem what we can for the sake of the Gospel.

3) We see the church neither as organization completely nor as organism, but as being a hybrid between the two (leaning more towards organism).

Keller compellingly weaves his own story and experience into the principles in this book. Yet he steers away from the temptation to make his own experience the rule for ministry. Rather he takes the idea of a "theological vision" as dictating how a ministry runs. This is the middle ground between doctrinal foundation and ministry expression. Keller lays this all out in the intro very precisely (would you expect any less?). The intro alone is worth the price of the book (all of which can be read on Amazon. Read it and convince yourself.)

The first section really gets to the theological heart behind everything else presented here. This section brilliantly lays out what the Gospel is and what it is not. Keller lays out the difference between the Gospel and legalism on the one hand and anti-nomianism (license to sin) on the other. This section deals with the plot lines of Scripture and seeing Christ as the resolution to each one. Keller lays out how the Gospel itself is not merely the key to justification but to sanctification; that we grow spiritually as we more deeply come to see the implications of the Gospel for our lives and believe it. Additionally, Keller gets into the idea of "Gospel Renewal" (part 2 of the book.) In this section, he draws heavily on Richard Lovelace's work, Dynamics of Spiritual Revival (definitely on my wishlist!) This is an incredible section on the marks of true revival (similar points to his sermon series Blueprint for Spiritual Revival, but further expanded.)

The second section gets into the question of contextualization: how should the believer relate to the world and how should they present the Gospel to the world? He lays out the Scriptural basis for this and lays out an approach for humble yet confident contextualization of the Gospel. Having been a cross-cultural missionary for over 10 years now, this section is fascinating to me and even after having a bit of experience under my belt in hashing through these ideas, I was challenged to re-assess my own contextualization of the Gospel in the culture I minister in. The truth is that every believer needs to go through this process concerning the culture they are in. If it is their own native culture, this process becomes all the more necessary. This section also includes lots of practical examples.

It would be unfair to really comment further than I have read, though I am certain the rest of the book will be as excellent as the beginning and am looking forward to the rest. Bottom line: do yourself, the church you minister in, and the city you live in a huge favor and order this book.