Ordinary Means of Grace

Peter Dietsch of Providence Presbyterian Church in Midland, penned an outstanding piece on what it means to be an "ordinary means of grace church."  From the post:

"The ‘means of grace’ refers to the concept that God uses particular means (methods or modes of communication) to communicate or give His grace to His people. When we speak of the ordinary means of grace, we are speaking specifically of ‘the word, sacraments, and prayer.’ This idea and the language used to express it comes from the Reformed confessions of the 16th and 17th centuries. For instance, the Westminster Shorter Catechism, question 88, says this:

Q. What are the outward means whereby Christ communicateth to us the benefits of redemption?
A. The outward and ordinary means whereby Christ communicateth to us the benefits of redemption, are his ordinances, especially the word, sacraments, and prayer; all which are made effectual to the elect for salvation.

 These are the things that Christ has instructed us to use as His church to receive His grace. Of course, God is able to work through any means He wishes – or even apart from means, should He desire to do so – but the Catechism is here summarizing the teaching of Scripture that the ordinary things that God uses to bestow His grace, bless His people, bring them to faith and grow them in that faith are: the word, sacraments, and prayer.

At one time, the Lord even used a donkey (!) as a means of communication (Numbers 22; 2 Peter 2:16); however, it’s certainly not ordinary. Simply because God chose to speak through a donkey at one point in history, it does not mean that we all need to start listening to donkeys or keep one in our back yard just in case God desires to do it again. Instead, we attend to the instruction which He has given us in the Scriptures and pursue God’s grace through the ordinary means that He has given us: the ministry of the word, the sacraments, and prayer."

Ambassadors-Errant?

In his classic novel Don Quixote, Miguel Cervantes parodies the literature of chivalry, which many regarded in his day as pointing back to a glorious past. In contrast, Cervantes showed these books to be absurd. Only an insane man, the title character, could take them seriously, and taking them thus resulted in a terrible price paid by both him and his mostly credulous sidekick.

Can evangelical preaching and literature sometimes have similar consequences? Certainly, some Christians do bizarre things and claim that it is because of their faith. Usually, the majority of their fellow Christians will say that their extreme behavior resulted from them not truly understanding the message that they heard. But, perhaps they understood all too well. If this theory is corrct, it could be said that many people benefit from their ministers and the teaching of their churches as long as they learn without taking it all too seriously. Taking it too seriously could be harmful.

What kind of harm?  Some less mainstream, but sometimes occurring and obvious examples come to mind: the family that sells all that they have to move to a place that gives them a front row seat for the imminent return of Christ. The person that declines to save for retirement because doing so is unnecessary since Christ is coming back and saving would show a lack of faith in his return. Someone who declines to go to the doctor because he trusts God to heal.

Other examples are more widespread and subtle: the suggestion that devotion to Christ results in a never ending high and that a shortage of passion evidences a decline of faith. Taken seriously, this can lead to emotional instability and burnout. Seeing laying out a fleece as a means of determining God's will rather than, as with Gideon, evidence of a failure to trust God. Understanding God's guidance as something apart from reasoning from Scripture and listening to the input of godly friends. Basing one's closeness to God and leading in life on hearing inner voices purported to be the promtings of the Holy Spirit. All of these can lead to tragic consequences for those who think that they are seeking God's will. Notably, they badly misunderstand what Scripture says about guidance, though they are consistent with what many well-meaning pastors sometimes counsel.

Many people believe in these sorts of things and are relatively unharmed by them, although they beat themselves up for lacking faith and not taking them seriously. In fact, taking them with a grain of salt is what saves them. Taking them seriously can be extremely destructive to faith and life.

All of this should be a matter of reflection for preachers. Most -- I would say probably all -- of us would want our parishioners to take our messages seriously. After all, we are proclaiming the Word of God. It is not our intention to be taken with a grain of salt. That being the case, we must preach the Word as it has been delivered to us: as God's Word, providing truth that we can trust in and follow to God's glory and to our good.

A Christian Opportunity

Beginning in 1975, and escalating after 1978, approximately 2 million people fled tyrannical, war ravaged Vietnam, with over 800,000 fleeing the nation in the flimsiest of watercraft. These "boat people" created an international humanitarian crisis, and western nations, including the United States, stepped in to help in significant fashion.

Churches and individual Christians contributed much toward the American response, as many churches throughout the United States endeavore...d to "adopt a family." A large number of refugees lived in the South Central Kentucky town where I spent my teen years. I have been told, but don't know for a fact, that a wealthy benefactor was largely responsible for them being there. While a seminary student in the late '80's, I preached a couple of times for a Vietnamese ministry conducted by First Baptist Church in Bowling Green. It is the only time I have ever preached using a translater, which I found to be a fun experience. I was very young, and they were a very gracious congregation.

Christian groups have a similar opportunity today to share the compassion of Christ, as well as the gospel. The children and women crossing our border, in an effort to escape the ravages of anarchy, the drug trade, the sex trade, and much else, stand in need of the love of Christ, if only we will share it.

Regardless of politics, Christians should condemn angry rhetoric and recognize an opportunity to share the compassion and love of Christ with those in great need.

Send it home?

 

 

A little over 4 years ago, word got out in our neighborhood that we were planning on getting a dog. We looked out our window and noticed that neighbors had gathered on the sidewalk, so we went outside to find out what was going on.

After e...xchanging pleasantries, Joe, the guy next door, came to the point. "We hear you are thinking of getting a dog," he said.

"Why, yes," I replied. "We're looking at a Rottie mix."

A murmur went through the crowd. "A Rottie," some mumbled. "A mix," others said.

George from across the street piped up: "So, why are you suddenly deciding you want a dog?"

My wife replied, "My son has been wanting one, we have the ability to take care of one, and we saw a picture online, and God just gave us a love for animals."

"Theocrat," George bellowed, before walking off toward his house.

Jim, the neighbor from the other side, also had a question: "So, where are you planning on getting this dog?"

"We are going to the Dallas shelter to check him out," I responded.

"The Dallas shelter? Aren't Tarrant County dogs good enough for you?"

"I'm just wanting to help out a dog. I hear they are overcrowded," I replied.

"Yeah, well, Tarrant County dogs have needs, too."

"I'm sure," I said. "Anyway, I need to get back to work."

"Hang on a minute," Jim said. What do you know about this dog you are talking about bringing into our neighborhood?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Well, where did it come from?"

"I assume it was abandoned. I really don't know."

"What if the owner wants it back?"

"Well, I suppose we will deal with that if it happens, but for now the dog just needs a home and people that will love it?"

"Does it have diseases? Our dogs might not be safe!"

"I assume that they check those things out," I replied.

"Well, you know what they say about assuming," he shot back.

"Yeah, bad word choice," I said. "Now, if I may...."

"No, wait! You said that you don't know where this dog came from?"

"That is correct. Most have been neglected, abused, or abandoned. Sad stories. I'm glad to be able to help."

"Yeah, but you're being naive. By helping one of these, you're just encouraging other people to abandon their dogs, too. By adopting a dog, you'll just be making sure that more dogs are left. Before long, all our shelters will look like that Star Trek episode. What did they call those things? Dogs will be everywhere."

I could only groan.

Of course, this neighborhood conversation never happened. We don't talk that way about dogs. This kind of talk is reserved for children.

A Children's Crusade?

In the year 1212, a boy from Cologne, Nicholas, claimed that a vision of Jesus showed him that children could succeed, where their elders had failed, in relieving the Holy Land from the rule of infidels. The expedition ultimately ended disgracefully, with a large number of children being captured and sold into Egyptian slavery, and is now remembered as among the most embarrassing events of the Crusades, a sort of recognition that sets the bar unfortunately high.

The details of the Children's Crusade are sketchy, and some historians even question whether it actually occurred, but the story is indicative of what can happen when a large portion of the church internalizes the insecurities of an age, leading them to act in a thoroughly unchristian manner, and sometimes claiming the authority of religion while doing so.

All of which brings me to a modern crusade against children who have found their way in massive numbers, most often unaccompanied by adults, into the southern region of the United States. Knowledgeable accounts suggest that most have fled from frightening conditions in three Central American counties -- El Salvador, Guatemala, and Honduras. While federal officials try to figure out what to do about this massive influx of young, huddled masses who often need medical care and reassurance after enduring terrifying circumstances, many of those who compose the coalition of "social conservatives" railing in favor of "family values" know exactly what should be done: get them out of here -- now.

It seems that these children, rather than being regarded as children, have become the latest props representing a cause. This is not a humanitarian cause. It is an immigration debate.

Now, regarding political causes, persons should be cautious about taking positions in behalf of the church on issues on which the Scriptures do not speak, and certainly the entire immigration debate is a complex one that addresses many issues -- economic, legal, geographic, and social -- to which the Scriptures do not speak directly. Nevertheless, while humbly refusing to commit the church to a cause, one can consider relevant material to suggest the position we should individually take on issues. Those of us who do so may not all come down on the same side, but looking for relevant Scipture is the sort of exercise that every Christian should undertake. Too many individual Christians do not do this. Rather than carefully consider the relevant biblical material, they fall in knee jerk fashion into the arguments of their normal allies. When this happens, Christians commit themselves to political positions that may or may not be utterly anti-Christian.

So what is the relevant material on this issue? Nowadays, it is common to say that Christians should love everyone, or perhaps there is a bit more clarity in saying that we should be compassionate toward the unfortunate. That is not the normal biblical way of speaking. Rather than speaking in generalizations, the Bible puts specific human faces on the sorts of people who should receive our compassion.  For example, from Zechariah 7:9-10 (ESV):

Thus says the Lord of hosts, Render true judgments, show kindness and mercy to one another, do not oppress the widow, the fatherless, the sojourner, or the poor, and let none of you devise evil against another in your heart.

The designation of those four groups of people -- widows, orphans, immigrants, and the poor -- as worthy recipients of compassion is not unusual in the Old Testament (this set of groupings occurs several times elsewhere), because that represents four specific groups of people who were largely helpless in the ancient world. Treating these people compassionately is represented as essential to obedience to the moral law, and failing to do so violated God's covenant with Israel.

The children crossing the American border comprise at least two of those groups, and some perhaps would be among at least three of them. Of course, I am not claiming that Christians in the anti-child lobby have no responses to these types of verses -- I could probably try to raise some counter arguments myself if I were so inclined. However, my question is: have you tried? Do you even consider the biblical material before crying for their immediate deportation? Medical care be damned, lest we somehow encourage others to show up.

Of course, the political repercussions are complex. The answers are not simple. However, the humanitarian need is also complex, and these are children, not pawns in a political debate.  If many conservatives are joining the anti-child lobby, I would call upon Christians to come out from them and be separate. If you are pro-family, contribute to a discussion on how to show the love of Christ to these poor, destitute children.

When Practical Religion is Impractical

While attending a conference a while back in the northeast, I had dinner with a colleague who I occasionally see at those sorts of meetings. Our conversation was interesting and wide ranging, touching on our work issues, politics and current events, history, and our personal backgrounds. With regard to the last of those, the subject of religion came up.

He grew up a Southern Baptist somewhere in Oklahoma, graduated from OU, and then headed off to a prestigious law school. Somewhere along the way, he decided that the faith he had grown up with was not credible, and he dropped out until, like many, he married and had children, at which time he found his way into an Episcopal Church. Although his children are all grown, he remains very active in his church, serving in various capacities.

Unfortunately, he said that he was not sure that he believes in God and doubts that there is any kind of an afterlife. Pragmatism, not truth, had brought him back to the church. He returned and remains active in a church because in practical terms it is the best way to raise a family, provide stability to a society, and perform good deeds for the needy. The church provides for life to be ordered in a way that is for him meaningful, providing satisfaction that he is doing good for others.

Yet, he is terrified of growing old and dying. He visits a nursing home in behalf of his church, taking along his dog because the residents love the little animal. He says that he doesn't do this for the residents, but it is "exposure therapy" for himself. He cannot come to grips with the fact that he will grow old (he is currently in his 60's), become "useless," and die. He is hoping that by visiting these people, that he will gain a level of comfort with his inevitable future.

I expressed regret that he had not found resources that would have helped him appreciate the viability of orthodox Christianity and told him that my hope for my future was grounded in the fact that Christ had risen from the dead. Trying to find a point of contact with him, I mentioned some Anglican writers that had been helpful to me, and he brought up C.S. Lewis as someone he had read. When I pointed out that Lewis, though practical in style, argued in favor of Christianity not because it was practical, but because it was true, he noted that as a point that was worth thinking about. We agreed that we would talk more at some point in the future.

I regard his situation as tragic. He has spent much of his life in churches, yet he finds no help with regard to some of the most fundamental issues that Christianity addresses. Of course, some will point out that his experience results from his migration to a liberal version of Christianity. While that is true, evangelicals might want to pause before dismissing the relevance of his testimony.

The fastest growing segments of evangelical Christianity in the United States now largely base their appeal on the practical value of what they claim to offer. Some churches even market themselves in a way that downplays themes such as sin, grace, salvation, redemption, and death. Rather, they focus on practical matters: coming to our church and hearing our message will help your kids, make you a better parent, make you more fulfilled and give meaning to your life, help you overcome addictions, provide you with a sense of community, and so forth. None of these things are bad in and of themselves, though one might point out that you can find resources for them in places other than churches.

Christianity doesn't just claim "to work;" it claims to be true. And in that claim, it asserts that God has dealt with our sins and provides a way of redemption and a future hope. That is, it deals with the truly large issues of life. In his practical religion, my colleague did not find an answer for the most fundamental and certain issues of life. It would be most unfortunate if evangelicals are leading their members down the same banal path.

It is often argued that people in their day to day lives are not concerned about these larger issues, and that may be true. But evangelical Christianity without the Christianity is nothing more than a marketed message that gains adherents without offering anything of value for the long haul. Churches should offer the Gospel, which is the power of God for salvation for everyone that believes; if churches don't, they are doing more harm than good.

Rick Perry's Strange Baptism

According to a story first broken by the highly regarded online newspaper, The Texas Tribune, Governor Rick Perry submitted to baptism in the same stream once used by Sam Houston for the same purpose.  While the event itself was a private affair, its publication has inevitably resulted in fruitless and uninteresting commentary on his motives.  As for the author of this blog, the matter would not be terribly interesting, except for the odd understanding of baptism enunciated by those speaking for the Governor, and that would not be interesting, except in recent months I have heard from other quarters that these views may be becoming increasingly common among evangelicals.

While all major Christian groups baptize their converts with water, they significantly disagree over its proper subjects (believers and their children, or only believers), its mode (sprinkling, pouring, or immersion) and its primary significance (a means of grace, or a step of obedience professing faith).  These are significant divides just among Protestants, not to mention Catholics and Orthodox.

Nonetheless, while that is a lot to disagree about, both Protestants and Catholics have historically held to a consensus on some issues related to baptism:  it is a rite of initiation into the Christian community.  That means that baptism is something that occurs a single time at the front end of Christian experience, and it is the means by which a person becomes a part of the Christian community. Baptism is an initial sacrament or ordinance that is administered only once. Christians also share in common -- and disagree much about -- the Lord's Supper as a repeated sacrament or ordinance.

It is important to note that Baptists have historically agreed with other Christians on this issue, though others have criticized them for allegedly holding a different view.  The misunderstanding comes about due to the fact that paedobaptists will recognize a Baptist baptism, but the Baptist requires re-baptism of anyone who joins his church if that person was either baptized prior to believing or by sprinkling. Thus, even though I was immersed in a Baptist church, the Presbyterian Church that I eventually joined did not require me to be sprinkled -- Presbyterians consider baptism to be valid if it was administered by a proper church (for the most part, any trinitarian one, though some churches will additionally require that the church adhere to justification by faith alone) on a proper candidate (a believer or the child of a believer). Baptists believe also that baptism should ideally occur at the start of the Christian life, but they believe that the mode is crucial to the definition of what constitutes baptism, and they deny baptism to the children of believers.  Thus, in their view, baptism has not occurred if either the mode or the candidate was improper, and they, thus, require a person submitting for membership to be immersed.

With that background, we are ready to talk about Rick Perry.  Mr. Perry, by his testimony, has been a Christian for many years, so his recent baptism is not an indication that he has just come to faith.  Nor is his baptism an admission that his previous one was improper. Nor did it constitute a step toward joining a church (while the baptism was not a church event -- more on that later -- it was performed by the minister of the church where he is a member).

Rather, he was baptized, according to his spokesman, in order to "reaffirm his commitment in a way that holds great personal meaning.”

As mentioned earlier, I have recently heard of other churches doing this. Yet, baptism has never been regarded as being for this purpose historically by any major Christian grouping.  More importantly, there is absolutely no precedent for it in Scripture.  For anyone that regards Scripture as authoritative regarding Christian practice, this must be questioned.

Yet, there is no Scriptural warrant.  Baptism, the gentler sign of the new covenant, finds its Old Testament roots in the rite of circumcision, given first to Abraham as a sign of the covenant in Genesis 17.  We can be rather certain that none of the sons of Abraham were circumcised a second time in order to reaffirm their faith in Yahweh.  More seriously, the New Testament simply provides no warrant for using baptism in this way. As the Gospel spread, as described in Acts and the Epistles, baptism was administered to new converts and their households.  It was an initiatory rite.  Christians were urged to remember their baptism (see Romans 6 among many other passages), but it was never suggested that they should repeat it. The only arguable example of renewed baptism is found in Acts 19, involving those who knew only the baptism of John, but that is an example of converts being baptized because their earlier baptism was not Christian. 

There are other misunderstandings present in the article.  Another person close to the governor had this to say:  "Baptism is a very personal expression of faith.”  But, that is simply not true.  In both Old and New Testament, the sign of the covenant signalled inclusion in the covenant community -- inclusion in a community is not private.  Baptists would also emphasize it as a public profession of their faith, which by definition would not be a private matter.  It should also be noted that Mr. Perry's baptism appears not to have been a church function -- it is emphasized that the governor was accompanied only by a few friends and family and his minister.  As far as we know, his church only learned of it when reading about it in the paper.  Given that Acts, from the very beginning, associates baptism with being added to the church, this is very odd, indeed.

Before someone reminds me, let me acknowledge that these irregularities are not the end of the world. Worse stuff happens both in and outside of churches. However, there is a tendency here that believers should not ignore.  Churches and Christians cannot simply take the commands of Christ and make up what we want them to mean.  If Christ is Lord -- and he is -- then he is the one who defines the meaning of what he has commanded.

What Do You Do When a Total Heretic Says Correct Things?

I heard a friend ask that question recently, and I have since put some thought into organizing some longstanding ideas on the subject.

First, we should not be surprised when this happens.  Even a clock that doesn't run is right twice a day. More seriously, God's common grace brings about the refreshment of rain on the just and the unjust alike, and even a heretic will typically recognize that he is wet -- and he may say something insightful or beautiful about the event.  Sometimes, even the best among us fall into this mode of thinking in which we imagine that those who are against us are wrong headed and evil in every way. Of course, upon reflection, any remotely thoughtful person recognizes that this is really not the case.  Those holding, in my understanding, even the most pernicious views -- barring some form of insanity -- will share many thoughts in common with my own. 

Anyone who wishes not to be narrow will find the need to read and interact with views that differ from his own, and appreciation for God's gifts to others will cause us to realize that God has given insight to those with whom we disagree on various areas.  While I am reformed in my views, I recognize that there is considerable variation even if I were to restrict my reading to the historically reformed, and I also recognize value in the writings outside of my own stream of thought. I recenty wrote a post commending some thoughts of G.K. Chesterton.  Chesterton, a Catholic with whom I would disagree about much, also said much that I would consider worthwhile, and I could encourage others to read Chesterton's books.  I sing and love the hymns of Wesley, an Arminian, and read sermons by Spurgeon, a Baptist. These I find insightful and helpful, though there are issues about which I would have strong disagreement.

And, of course, I can benefit from and publicly cite disagreements with authors that I have strong antipathy for their views. This is true in both academic and popular discourse.

But what about someone who is notorious that says something I like?  My own approach is that it is counterproductive to rely on the support of someone who is thoroughly unsound, and if I need arguments or supporting material, I should take the time to find a more reliable source.  Hugh Hefner might have over the years said something I agreed with about sexual ethics -- maybe -- but I am not likely to quote him for positive support in Sunday's sermon. Similarly, the Watchtower Society or Pelagius, Joel Osteen, or Doug Wilson, or some other unreliable person may say something I like about God or worship or the Christian life, but I am unlikely to quote them. I really don't want to encourage anyone to listen to or read any of those sources, and those aware of their reputation may question my use of source material.  In the vast array of Christian literature, there are many others that can be looked to for illustrative or supportive material.

Of course, this recognizes a spectrum extending out from my own understanding.  There are some with whom I disagree, but I recognize that their views are within the broad stream of catholic Christianity.  Others fall outside that stream, and I regard them differently in terms of the way I would cite them. All of this requires discernment and care, but this largely explains my own approach to this question.

Knowing whom to believe in

For decades, I have seen G.K. Chesterton quoted in various works, but, to my detriment, I have never read anything by him -- not his mystery novels, his works in Christian apologetics, or anything else. I say "to my detriment," as last night while browsing the selections at Barnes & Noble, I picked up his "Orthodoxy" and was arrested by the very first page. The following thoughts result from my reading only the first couple of pages -- reading the rest will come later.

Chesterton describes himself as walking down a London street with his publisher, who remarked that a person he was working with could go a long way if he just learned to believe in himself. Chesterton replied that insane asylums were filled with people who believed in themselves more than Napoleon or Caesar had believed in themselves. When the publisher challenged him to provide an alternative for people putting their faith in themselves, Chesterton decided to write a book.

Part of the reason that this drew my interest is that while Chesterton's conversation occurred over 100 years ago, it has a very modern feel. "Believe in yourself" is a modern mantra, and it is arguably the chief end not only of pop psychology, but also of much evangelicalism -- just before looking at Chesterton's book, I had flipped through the pages of Rev. Steven Furtick's execrable "Chatterbox," and the thinking of the books would not have been more different if Furtick were an atheist.

The Apostle's Creed, which was written well after the apostolic age but nonetheless summarizes in broad terms the historic faith of Protestants and Catholics alike, begins: "I believe in God the Father Almighty...." When Christians recite the creed, we tend to think of it as a series of propositions that we adhere to -- and it is at least that. However, Christians hold that this word "believe" does not affirm mere intellectual assent. Belief is a matter of both the intellect and the will. It is a matter of trust, as well as assent. As such, the Creed is the Christian's affirmation of both truth and ultimate value.

There is a sharp contrast here. Our culture -- including much of our religious culture -- tells us, with regard to our hopes and aspirations: "Believe in yourself!"  In the Creed I confess my belief in God. Why would I believe in myself as the basis for hope and aspiration, when I instead have the option of believing in God the Father Almighty? I choose the latter.

Of course, the modern religionist assures us that belief in God leads to belief in self, but this is nonsense that results from thinking out of the wrong categories. It is true that belief in God the Father Almighty leads his people to engage in bold and energetic enterprises. However, those who want to put believing in self alongside belief in God always end up making much of themselves and little of God. In that thinking, we always end up in the big roles, while God plays the supporting actor. However, God does not share his glory with his creatures, and our power is minuscule beside his. This making much of self is exactly opposite of the way it should be.

Why insist on believing in myself, when instead I can believe in God the Father Almighty?

We should be plain about forms of Christianity that encourage belief in self: they are anti-Christ. The goal of the Father from all eternity was that Christ would have the pre-eminence. The work of the Holy Spirit, as described by Jesus, is to speak of and glorify the Son of God. Christian teaching that is indeed Christian points to belief in -- trust in -- Christ. Teaching that urges belief in self is something else.

In myself, there is weakness and sin. Yet, I go forth in life. I don't trust in myself. I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth.

Furtick's Sad Confusion on "I AM"

Steve Furtick, the founder and pastor of Elevation Church in Matthews, North Carolina, which, according to the Hartford Institute for Religion Research, averages over 13,000 in weekly attendance, has received much unflattering attention of late. 

First, Todd Pruitt applied a spotlight to Mr. Furtick while using the word "cult" in the title of a blog post  featuring an image of a children's coloring book produced by his church extolling the vision given by God to the pastor, who therefore, it claimed, must be supported.  Numerous other bloggers, both before and after the Pruitt post, have noted similar themes emanating from the church. The day following Rev. Pruitt's post, Stuart Watson, a reporter for the NBC affiliate in Charlotte, produced this excellently sourced report suggesting that Furtick had made use of manipulative methods in order to get people to come forward in a service to commit to baptism. 

These things are bad.  With a sermon entitled "I Know I am" by Mr. Furtick posted on the church's website, it gets worse.

The sermon is part of a series he is preaching in his church based on his just released book, Crash the Chatterbox: Hearing God's Voice Above All Others.  Much of what he says is the sort of standard self-help fare common nowadays in evangelical pulpits, but the minister ultimately leaves orthodoxy in his rear view mirror on the way to his concluding thoughts. 

Even in the initial part about self-help, however, he says some unusual things.  Thus, he begins by reading from Psalm 139:14 -- "I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well."  The "phrase fearfully and wonderfully made" clearly in context refers to the power and wisdom of God in making us, but Mr. Furtick argues that the phrase should inform our self-image.  Saying that the first part of the phrase could be translated differently, he claims that we are expressing agreement with God if we tell ourselves and others that "I am awesome and wonderful."

Be that as it may, the sermon is mainly drawn from Exodus 3 and 4, where Moses encounters God in a bush that burns but is not consumed, and which Mr. Furtick finds to be primarily about Moses learning to deal with his insecurities.  In fact, the minister claims near the end of the sermon that preachers, including himself in the past, err when they imagine that Moses struggles to believe in God's power.  Rather, Moses fails to believe in himself.  It doesn't seem to occur to Mr. Furtick that Moses would have realized his very real deficits were not relevant if he had faith in the power of God to fulfill His calling.  Nonetheless, Mr. Furtick finds Moses' insecurity to be the ultimate matter of concern.

Mr. Furtick says that God finds a way to help Moses with his feelings of inadequacy, and his supposed solution takes one's breath away.  The minister has looked at Moses' excuses and declared him to be making several statements of personal insecurity: I am dysfunctional.  I am deficient.  I am doubtful.  I am.... fill in the blank.

At this point, Mr. Furtick has his listeners look back to chapter 3, where Moses asked God his name, and God responded with, "I AM."  After claiming that he has "meticulously" studied the meaning of this phrase, the pastor ultimately claims that God is telling Moses, "I am the God who is whatever you need." God's "I AM" counters our negative, internal "I am deficient."

Thus, God is promising by his revelation to Moses to fill our psychic neediness.

One hardly knows where to start. It is difficult to avoid calling it blasphemy.  It will take some time to explain the choice of this strong word.

One might begin by suggesting that this is an inexcusable error for someone trained for ministry (Mr. Furtick is an ordained minister who received an education from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary).  For various reasons, this is a crucial passage in both Old Testament studies and in biblical and systematic theology.  Any first year seminarian or Bible college student should know better than what has just been said.

God's revelation of himself as "I AM" and "I AM WHO I AM" is linguistically related to his covenant name of Yahweh, by which he reveals himself as the sovereign, self-existing, covenant making God.  The name is so revered by some devout Jews that for centuries, and to this day, some refuse to pronounce the name orally.  While that may reflect a level of superstition, it does point to the reverence that has been shown for the divine name.  God will proceed to tell Moses (Ex. 6:3) that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had not known him by this name.  This seems odd -- the patriarchs had, in fact, used that name -- until one realizes that God is saying that he is about to reveal himself as the covenant making, delivering, redeeming God in a way that he has never done before by delivering Israel from Egypt by his mighty power.  Jesus also made use of this scene by telling a group of Pharisees that "before Abraham was, I am," (John 8:58), and showing himself to be the great covenant making, delivering, redeeming God by dying for our sins and being raised for our justification.

This is a whole lot different than promising to help us out with our insecurities.

The bizarre claims do not end here.   Mr. Furtick correctly points out that Christians have been united with Christ, but then he becomes confused.  After quoting the third commandment (prohibiting taking God's name in vain), he argues that because we have identified ourselves with Christ, that to say "I am" and to be insecure and to doubt ourselves is a violation of the third commandment.  Let me repeat, he is claiming that by doubting ourselves, we are violating a commandment against taking God's name in vain.  Thus, to take our own name in vain is equivalent to taking God's name in vain.

After listening to this sermon, I talked at length with my wife about it.  She asked if there was nothing that his denomination (the Southern Baptist Convention) could do about it.  The inability to deal in any formal way with men who are going off the rails is a weakness of non-connectional church bodies.  Nonetheless, one hopes that Mr. Furtick has orthodox friends who will confront him about this sort of thing.  This abuse of the biblical text, dimunition of our sovereign and self-existent LORD, and confusion of the creature with the Creator are not things that can happen in a pulpit that would call itself Christian. 

Mr. Furtick has a lot of sheep, and they need a shepherd.

Son of God and Images

Last week, as part of an ongoing research project, I attended a church where mine was the only white face in an all black congregation of several thousand.  As part of his sermon, the minister attempted to make an argument that Jesus was black.  While I thought the argument was weak, I really don't care enough about the skin color of Jesus to take up the argument.

However, the minister also criticized that point.  If the skin color of Jesus doesn't matter, why have paintings of him where he is white?

Why, indeed.

For those of us who agree with this argument (hat tip:  Aquila Report) and with that expressed by James Packer in his wonderful book Knowing God, that images of Jesus -- including both paintings and movie images -- violate the second commandment, the white Italian Jesus is a problem, and we would note that part of the problem involves the tendency of image makers to re-make God in our own image.  In fact, both the criticism and the solution offered by the minister last week point to that problem:  a tendency in all of us to want to make God look or be like ourselves.  As a result, I agree with the minister last Sunday that white images of the Son of God are not proper, but I would argue against the notion of exchanging one violation of the second commandment (Jesus as white) for another (Jesus as black).

And, for the same reason, I will also not see the movie.

Sheep Without a Shepherd

Whatever the skills or deficiencies of any Christian pastor, a basic expectation of most of those who attend a church would be that the minister have some basic competence at how to interpret the Bible.  One expects an English Literature teacher to know something about Shakespeare. A physics teacher is expected to have at least some understanding of Newton and Einstein.  A Christian minister knows the Bible.

Right?

So, last Sunday, I visited one of the largest churches in the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex. The pastor, a man older than me, has been at the church for many years. 

And, he is incompetent at his most basic task. I am not saying I disagreed with his interpretation.  There are many capable ministers with whom I could disagree over the meaning of a text or a theological issue.  I am saying that what he did fell to the level of incompetence.

His sermon concerned the story of David and Goliath, which he used as a fable to show how we could slay the giants in our lives.  That is not what this historical story is about. It cannot be legitimately used in that way.

It got worse.  He read as his text I Samuel 16:7 -- "Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature.... Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart."  This verse actually occurs in the story of Samuel's anointing of David as king.  The verse is about David. He did not have the kingly bearing of Saul, but that should not cause Samuel to despise or underestimate David.  The minister, claiming that the Spirit had given him a new application of this verse, bizarrely said that it was about Goliath and the giants in our lives. 

Not content with having reduced David's confrontation with Goliath to a fable, the minister added to his folly by misusing the story of Jacob wrestling with God as a fable providing a paradigm for how we should overcome our internal giants. Both the interpretation and application were basically flawed.

He then moved from biblical incompetence to theological heresy. He said that our "humility and confession summon [God's] grace," going on to say that while grace is wonderful, it is of no value unless we can appropriate it.  He later added another work that brings about grace:  "Your strong vows summon God's grace."  This is semi-pelagianism, to be charitable.

I looked around me at the large group of people taking it all in.  I felt only sadness.  They were sheep who had no shepherd.

How to get accused of antinomianism

If your teaching or writing bears similarity to the first five chapters of Paul's Epistle to the Romans, it appears that some among the Reformed will compel you to answer the question that Paul asks in 6:1.

From this vantage point, that would appear to put you in good company.

The Compelling Biblical Alternative to Young Earth Creationism

Watching the discussion that has taken place since the highly publicized debate between Ken Ham of the Creation Museum and Bill Nye, PBS's science guy, has proved frustrating for those of us not represented by either of those viewpoints. 

That is to say, there are some of us that reject naturalistic evolution and that are rather astonished at the philosophical naivety of those who think that they are engaged in a purely empirical investigation of scientific data. The specialization required of academics in the modern world often blinds really smart people to their level of ignorance in areas outside of their specialization, and many scientists put that on full display when their discussion of origins presses them into consideration of matters of epistemology and other philosophical issues for which they show very little understanding. 

Nonetheless, many of us also reject young earth creationism.  Believing that there is nothing in the Bible that requires one to hold that the earth is young, we are willing to leave the question to those who study such things. If scientists say that the universe is old, I have no problem with that.

To reiterate my own views:  I am a Christian who holds to the inerrancy and sufficiency of Scripture and to the historic teaching of the church as expounded in the Apostle's Creed, the Nicene and Chalcedonian creeds, and the 5 sola's of the Reformation.  I subscribe to the Westminster standards.  And, I believe that the earth is likely very old.  Even billions of years old. No problem.

Some people seem astonished at that, but they shouldn't be.  The great Princeton theologian Charles Hodge, who along with B.B. Warfield provided the intellectual heft behind modern understandings of biblical inerrancy, wrote in the late 19th century while being well aware of what was at stake with the incipient theories of Darwin.  Hodge vigorously opposed naturalistic philosophy while acknowledging that the earth could be very old.

J. Gresham Machen was the most outstanding conservative Presbyterian theologian of the first half of the 20th century and the key leader in the founding of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church and Westminister Theological Seminary.  Machen had no concerns about the earth being very old.  Historian Mark Noll, in his book The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind, argues that evangelicals did not become insistent about young earth creationism until the 1950's, when it began to be raised as a litmus test for orthodoxy initially by, of all things, a Seventh Day Adventist -- hardly the center of the evangelical universe.  Nonetheless, the writings of Henry Morris of the Creation Research Institute gained a significant sway among populist fundamentalists and evangelicals, who have extended it deep into the roots of the home school movement. 

This is an enormous mistake, both doctrinally and apologetically:  doctrinally, because nothing in the Bible requires belief in a young earth; and, apologetically, because it causes many evangelicals to stake their argument where their evidence is weakest.  That is to say, without dispute the universe has the appearance of being designed, and it has the appearance of being very old.  Why on earth do Christians want to focus their attention on the age? If I am going to argue about origins, I would much rather be talking about whether purely naturalistic random mutation and natural selection can account for complex cellular systems.  While I have friends who have advanced degrees and are very smart and who hold to the young earth view, I have to say, with regret, that I think that holding it up as a test of orthodoxy and as an apologetic imperative is destructive of the Christian mission.

But what about Genesis 1?  Does Genesis 1 require a believer to adhere to a young earth?

No.  The best reading of Genesis 1 understands it as having nothing to say about the age of the earth or the length of time of creation. I suspect I need to explain.

Genesis, written by Moses, was part of the Book of the Law provided to God's covenant people, Israel, who had been delivered from Egypt.  Now, neither the age of the earth nor the details as to how it had come about were paramount on the minds of the Israelites, who did, though, need to know about who God was and how he related to his people and his creation. The opening chapters of Genesis begin to provide that account.  The Israelites would have been familiar with the outlandish and chaotic understanding of creation held by the Egyptians.  In contrast, Genesis 1 presents the one true God creating and ultimately establishing his covenants in an orderly manner. 

Of course, Genesis uses the term "days" in the creation account, but there is no reason to believe that either the term "days" or the poetic "evening and morning" language are intended to refer to a 24 hour period.  The fact that the sun was not created until day 4, in fact, ought to provide a clue that periods of time predicated on the earth's rotation and relationship to the sun are not in mind at all.  It should additionally be noted that the creation account explicitly mentions natural processes with regard to God's creation activity.  Genesis 2:5 says, "When no bush of the field was yet in the land and no small plant of the field had yet sprung up -- for the LORD God had not caused it to rain on the land."

See that:  natural process. There was no vegetation, because there as of yet had been no rain.

Further, a close examination of Genesis 1 shows that the account is not intended to be chronological.  Rather, it is topical.  Thus, in the first three "days," God creates what he fills in the second three days. Day 1, the heavens and the earth, corresponds with Day 4, when he fills the heavens with the sun and the moon.  Day 2 divides the firmament (sky and water) and Day 5 fills them with birds and fish.  Day 3 is the creation of land, filled with land animals and mankind on Day 6.  The passage is accurate without being chronological. It describes God's orderly and purposeful activity in creation, but does not do so in a blow by blow chronological account.  And it says nothing about the length of time.

Young earth creationists typically bring two objections to this approach when used to justify an old earth view (notably, this "framework interpretation" of Genesis is consistent with either old or young earth views).  First, it is objected that this conflicts with Sabbath teaching where the time of God's creative activity serves as the basis for man's Sabbath rest.  However, that objection is answered with the understanding that God performed and revealed his creative activity with this Sabbath principle providentially in view.

Second, some would object that allowing for an old earth results in the presence of death and decay on earth prior to the Fall.  However, it can be answered that the Bible does not require one to believe that no death or decay appeared on earth prior to the Fall.  It only requires us to understand that death and decay did not exist for man as judgement for sin prior to the Fall.

Thus, there is an insistence in the Bible on a first man and woman, the direct creation of God, who fell into sin and brought damnation into the human race.  On those issues, there is a clear boundary.  As to the age of the earth:  it may be very old.

I have provided a popular level description of this approach to the opening chapters of Genesis. For those who would like to dig deeper with a more technical article, see Meredith Kline.

Why Pastors Are Losing Trust

In response to statistics provided by the Pew Research Center revealing that only 37% of Americans have a favorable view of clergy, Thom Rainier, CEO and President of Lifeway Christian Resources of the Southern Baptist Convention, has compiled a list of 11 reasons that ministers are held in lower esteem.  Those reasons include widespread attention to moral failures, the marginalization of Christian faith across the culture, short tenures of pastors, and the use of social media as an outlet for criticism.  While all of those -- and the others mentioned by Mr. Rainier -- are true as far as they go, I think that he has left out a significantly important one that points to the trade offs that have been created in the way many are now approaching church.

Clergy are perceived, correctly, as figures of authority.  As a result, the manner in which they receive and maintain their authority is going ot impact whether they are viewed as trustworthy.

Ministerial authority, in the most visible sectors of American evangelicalism, now rests almost entirely on charismatic authority (likableness, ability to emotionally connect to people, leadership dynamic, etc), not on external forms of authority (education, credentials, relationship with institutions, etc).

Charismatic authority will always tend to be fluid, and Americans tend to have a love/hate relationship with those who mesmerize them.  On the one hand, we elect them as our leaders and we buy cars and other stuff based on their ability to sell themselves to us.  On the other hand we will criticize them for being self-serving and manipulative.

They tend also to be galvanizing figures:  to their fans, they are heroes who can do no wrong; to their critics, they are only out for themselves.  Thus, in sports, Pete Rose is thought by some to be a victim who really didn't do much wrong and deserves to be in the Hall of Fame, while others see him as damaging the integrity of the game and getting what he deserves.  In politics, some see Senator Ted Cruz as principled and courageous; others think him to be only too eager at the game of self-promotion.  Some see President Barack Obama as too intelligent for the country he leads.  Others see a deeply flawed, power hungry politician.

Of course, the presence of charismatic authority in the Christian movement is nothing new, and in the United States it certainly can be traced back as far as the First Great Awakening.  However, the trend is accelerating, as churches become increasingly unmoored from anything approaching a traditional liturgy, educational institutions become more distant from how churches view their missions, denominational structures become less relevant, and marketing and personality driven ministry overtakes distinctives based on heritage or theology.  Many will argue that these are positive trends.  Perhaps so, but recognize that clergy respect will continue to take a hit as a result.

Consider this:  100 years ago, when a Rev. Smith approached his pulpit in the downtown church, the congregation was aware of the following: he held credentials from an educational institution validating his expertise in the Bible and theology, he had been examined by and was accountable to representative bodies of his denomination, and he was also accountable to a group of leaders of the congregation that had for the most part been in place before his arrival.  For all of that, he claimed that his ultimate authority was derived from the Word of God and, in that vein, he may have worn a Geneva gown to signify that it was the Word, not his individual personality, that counted in the pulpit.

We may or may not appreciate that style of ministry or find it to be a good thing in our day, but there is much there to command respect.

So, contrast that with today, when Pastor Eddie strolls out on stage in his skinny jeans, untucked shirt, and spiked hair, conveying to the amateur sociologist in the crowd that individual personality counts for everything.  His bio on the website doesn't mention if he has ever been to school and only discusses some individual accomplishments: he made this church grow and speaks in lots of places.  If there is any connectedness to the larger church, it is well hidden, and, in fact, one almost gathers that this church -- and its satellites -- constitutes its own little cloister fulfilling God's purpose in the world.

But, he preaches a really engaging sermon.  To those on board, this is great.  For others, there is a tendency toward cynicism.  One of Mr. Rainier's reasons has to do with cynicism in our culture, which takes me back to that love/hate thing I mentioned earlier.  Charismatic based authority tends to breed cynicism, especially when some charismatic leaders prove to be little more than bags of wind or particularly self-serving.

In that regard, I would like to highlight and further discuss one of Mr. Rainier's points:

9. There is a failure of some pastors in two key areas: leadership and emotional intelligence.  Some pastors are well prepared biblically and theologically. But some have not been taught leadership and healthy interpersonal skills.

Each of the three sentences here includes the word "some."  Clearly, from the way it is structured, the point of emphasis is on the lack of leadership training, emotional intelligence, and interpersonal skills, with the middle sentence being supplied to provide contrast. Some pastors have biblical training, but they are lousy leaders.  The point is understood.  However, while I would not want to diminish the importance of the skill sets he emphasized, I find what is omitted to be interesting.  Given that Mr. Rainier seems to be saying that only "some pastors" are biblically and theologically prepared, it is curious that this is not addressed as a reason for the lack of respect for clergy at any point in the piece.

The fact of the matter is that clergy have no authority apart from the Bible, and if they are not adequately prepared to proclaim it in light of the modern situation, there is no reason for them to be in their positions, and one would not expect them to be able to garner the respect of their culture.  Removed from proper authority, it is inevitable that legitimate respect will decrease.  As churches increasingly view their missions as disconnected from scriptural moorings and more connected to contemporary categories of thought, they will find that they will lose both the world and their souls. Lacking a claim to transcendent authority, they are doing little more than hawking a product.  Pastor as used church salesman is not a recipe for respectful trust in a post Christian culture.

I think it will also be worth the time to write a post at some point on another reason that Mr. Rainier leaves out:  the extent to which political engagement has tarnished the reputation of clergy.  Another subject for another day.

Hat Tip:  The Aquila Report

Not a Prayer

Regarding prayer:  the important question is not about how it was removed from public schools, but rather why it has largely disappeared from the church.

In recent months, as I have visited some of the largest churches in the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex, one striking thing that I have noticed has been the lack of time engaged in prayer during those church services. In at least one of the churches, the only prayer offered at all was a sort of tag on the end of a song, and it was not clear until the leader was nearly finished that we were supposed to be praying. The churches that I have visited have been Baptist, charismatic, and a church with a reputation as being reformed and Baptist.  What they all had in common was that, in church, they did not pray. The fact that this was not changed by the varying traditions is an indication that it is syptomatic of our times and not related to a small subset of American evangelicalism.

Of course, we should not assume that these churches therefore do not believe in prayer.  To the contrary, I would assume that they all do, and I would not be surprised to learn that their ministers and many of their leaders make commitments to spend considerable time praying privately or in small gatherings.  Some of these churches urge people to gather for prayer prior to the service. 

Yet, during the time of worship, they rarely pray. Why? Clearly, prayer is an important part of worship in the Bible.  Acts 2 says that the early Christians devoted themselves to prayers.  Many of the epistles contain multiple prayers, and it is helpful to remember that those epistles were read in the churches.  When the Apostle Paul wrote a prayer, that prayer was read to the congregation.

Why don't churches pray corporately?

In answering this, it should be noted that the declension of corporate prayer is not a recent trend, even if it has accelerated as the result of recent innovations in worship.  In fact, for the most part, corporate prayer has declined in terms of both quantity and quality for a couple of centuries.  My theory is that prayer has declined because church leaders don't know what to do with it in a public context.  We understand quiet, closeted prayer as an expression of personal piety, but what is the point of our public praying, other than in the anguished prayers of a person experiencing deep conviction during a special service?

More controversially, I would suggest that the enemy of meaningful prayer, that has caused its decline over many generations, has been the evangelical emphasis on spontaneity. In many churches, there is an emphasis on the spontaneous moving of the Spirit, and along with that comes an assumption that prepared prayers are not spiritual prayers.  Of course, there is no reason to think that is the case.  What possibly could be wrong with planning what you are going to say to God before a crowd?  What is wrong with planning the language that we will use to express adoration?  Surely, a planned prayer is no less valuable than a planned song or a planned sermon; yet, in many churches over the course of generations, if a person walked to the front and pulled out a piece of paper with his prayer written on it, there would be some in the congregation that would groan, certain that the Spirit was being quenched by that piece of paper.

In fact, something approaching the opposite is true. I suspect that the lack of emphasis on prayer in today's contemporary churches is a reaction against the trite and repetitive prayers offered in past generations week after week.  That is, if whoever is called upon just prays whatever comes into his mind, and no advance thought is going into it, then the invocation, the offertory, and the misnamed benediction all start sounding the same every week. While prayer need not be eloquent, it should be thought out, and the kinds of public prayer that many of us grew up with in normal church services was not conducive to worship or piety.

Not only did these churches become repetitive in the individual prayers, but they also tended to fail to note the various forms that prayer could take in the course of a worship service. In the invocation, we express adoration and ask God that He be present during our worship.  In a prayer of confession, we acknowledge our sinfulness before a holy God and receive his assurance of pardon.  In a congregational prayer (or the pastoral prayer, as seen from a different perspective) the pastor or an elder of the church brings before God various needs of the congregation. There are other sorts of prayers that could be mentioned, but the point here is that in worship we have a tapestry of prayer that both takes our petitions to God and expects to receive from him his gifts.

These elements are missing in many churches today, both traditional and contemporary.  Their rediscovery would help us learn again what it means to worship our Savior in Spirit and in truth.

Confession and Assurance of Pardon as a Part of Worship

When I began attending a Presbyterian church for the first time 17 years ago, one of the primary reasons for that decision was an interest in learning about worship.  In my years as a Baptist pastor, I never had been satisfied that I had a good understanding of what corporate worship should look like. Don't misunderstand:  I am not blaming the Baptists for what I had failed to learn.  There were things that perhaps I should have known, but did not.  Nonetheless, in the intervening years, I have learned a great deal.  Most of what I have learned is not unique to Presbyterianism, and much of it could have been done in Baptist churches -- I am sure it is done in some of those churches, but I had not really seen it in my experience. 

Thus, when I was pastoring, my unfortunately limited view of worship essentially bifurcated the service into two parts -- the singing and the sermon.  Sure, we did other things:  we had some prayers, took an offering, did the Lord's Supper every quarter, baptized as needed, etc.  However, I admit that I placed too little value on corporate prayer and the other weekly worship activities, and while I appreciated the importance of baptism and the Lord's Supper, the Baptist understanding of them as matters of our proclamation rather than God's means of grace somewhat limits their force.  Thus, I tended to see the worship hour primarily in terms of singing and preaching.  As a result, other than the preaching, the main thing that was needed was music that coalesced around a theme, preferably one that would support the sermon.

That is horribly deficient.

While I could write about many things in this regard, today I have one in particular in mind. One of the common elements in a reformed worship service is a time of confession of sin and assurance of pardon.  While the way of doing this can change from week to week and from church to church, a typical format would involve the minister reading a biblical text that confronts us with the reality of our sin and making some brief remarks about it.  This is followed by a time of prayer, which may be silent, a prayer offered by the minister, or a congregational reading of a prayer of general confession. This is followed by words of the minister, who usually reads a scripture promising forgiveness and makes remarks about God's promise of pardon for those who confess their sins and have their only confidence in Christ.

Though I never had this in a service when I was a pastor, I now feel cheated when I am in a church service that doesn't include it. Like Isaiah, I realize that coming into the worship of a holy God brings before me the reality of my own uncleanness, and as Isaiah's confession was followed by an assurance from God's throne of His cleansing grace and power, I need to hear that my sins have been forgiven through the death of Christ and that my heart has been cleansed so that I, too, may worship.  This portion of the worship service functions both to assure me of God's promises and to teach me about the power of the Gospel.  I need this teaching and these promises and assurances regularly.

Our tendency is to think of worship as a time when we bring ourselves and our praises to God.  Fair enough.  But God also brings His gifts of grace to His people.  I arrive with an awareness of my sin, and He pronounces me forgiven in Christ.  With that, I am prepared to worship.

Because God began it, and he will perform it

It seems to me that in far too many churches the understanding of sanctification is monergistic, but not in the way that you may be thinking: it is we that work.  The triune God is a bystander.  Well, he might do something once we've completed our part.

In any evangelical church where the Gospel is preached at all, the pastor and leaders should be expected to understand that we are saved by grace.  "Grace alone," the Protestant reformers proclaimed about justification, and those committed to the gospel, both before and since, from the apostles to the present day, have understood that the Gospel of Christ is received as God's free gift.

And yet, why is it that for so many this message of grace disappears (if it in fact appeared in proclamation in the first place) when they move from justification to sanctification? 

The question should not be misunderstood as implying that there are not distinctions between justification and sanctification.  Justification is a once and for all forensic declaration by God; sanctification is an ongoing process that continues throughout this life.  Justification is a matter of the imputed righteousness of Christ; sanctification adds growth in actual righteousness as we more and more die unto sin and live unto righteousness. Justification is received by faith alone; sanctification is in at least some sense participatory, though it is important to realize that we don't make ourselves holy.  That is the work of the Spirit using God's appointed means.

Certainly, even in reformed circles there are controversies about the issue of sanctification these days.  While those differences are real, they are sometimes exaggerated by those who argue against straw man positions supposedly held by those who either emphasize justification and gratitude as the primary keys to understanding growth in the Christian life or those who give greater attention to strenuous moral effort.    In fact, at the very least there are some general thoughts about sanctification on which all Christians, reformed and otherwise, ought to agree.  Our sanctification is rooted in the finished work of Christ and in our having been brought into union with Christ, occurs as the result of the work of the Holy Spirit in us, and relies upon the promise and power of God, who gives us confidence "that he who began a good work in us will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ" (Ph. 1:6). There is, of course, much more, but that is a good start.

All of those things emphasize the work of the triune God in our Christian growth.

These thoughts were brought to mind as the result of a church service at a large evangelical church I attended yesterday as part of an ongoing research project that I am engaged in.  The minister devoted his sermon to his goal that his parishioners be "fully developing followers of Christ," and to that end, it was sadly astounding to note how little Christ had to do with the development of his followers.

All of the things he said we should commit to do this year had a biblical basis.  I had no quarrel with being urged to worship, read the Bible and pray, commit my time and money to God's work, and so forth.

Yet, no Gospel was preached. The saving acts of Christ were given no mention whatsoever, even in places where one might expect it to creep in. Thus, the minister's call for us to commit to evangelism was described as saying "a positive word about Jesus" and inviting people to church. No further definition was given.

Worship was defined as our response to God's revealed greatness.  A reading of Isaiah 6 reminds us of how utterly disturbing God's greatness can be before we experience God's grace. Yet, there was no mention of God's grace.

No work of the Spirit. No union with Christ. It was just a bunch of stuff for us to do.  There was some mention of preparing ourselves for when God decides to work, but that was vague and lacked the sound of God working consistently through ordinary means. One might even suggest it was semi-pelagian, if he was suggesting that God would meet our initiative half-way.  However, perhaps that would be uncharitable.

Yet, all of this left me very sad for the large congregation.

No doubt, if the pastor of that church reads this blog, I would expect that he would protest the characterization and assure us that he preaches Christ and the grace of God.  This was, after all, about building believers, not about sharing our faith, and I should come back another Sunday to hear about the Gospel.  Perhaps all of that is true.  But, I am still left struck wondering at how it can be possible to speak of fully developing Christian growth while making so much of our work and so little of God's.  And, I am reminded that Christians should ever remember that we continuously stand in need of the message of the Gospel.

According to an old and faithful saying, all of Christian doctrine is grace, and all of Christian conduct is gratitude.  That message needs to permeate our understanding of discipleship.

Marks of the Church: Some Clean up, and a Response to the Second Hypothetical

The blogger at By the Light of Latimer's Candle and I have been engaged in a discussion of the marks of the church, with the intention of ultimately focusing on the question of the appropriate consideration of the marks of the church.  We have had a cordial exchange of views regarding the sacraments that has helped us to identify areas of common belief and differences.  While the dialogue remains productive, we seem to have taken a step back in the last exchange, and it would seem that I have been misunderstood to the point that LC has managed to cite my own confession against me in what he regards as support of his view.  This may simply be the result of my working so hard at emphasizing a difference that I have appeared to state a view different from what I actually hold.  However, that being said, I can't figure out what he thinks I have written in disagreement with the chapters from the Westminster Confession that he cites.

Perhaps I erred by using the word "symbols" with regard to the sacraments in stating that baptism symbolizes the cleansing of the Spirit and union with Christ.  Perhaps that language sounds to Zwinglian, and I will strike the word "symbol" from my vocabulary as a result.  However, to say that the sacraments symbolize these things in no way suggests that they are mere symbols, and I have explicitly repudiated the Zwinglian view while affirming the sacraments as a means of grace by which God creates and confirms faith in us.  LC's pedantic statement that "something important" happens with regard to the signs and seals of the covenant of grace seems entirely unnecessary, as I have no where indicated otherwise. 

Nor have I in any way denied that there is a "spiritual relation, or sacrificial union between the sign and the thing signified...."  I would affirm that without question.  What I have done is insisted that there must not be confusion between the sign and the thing signified and, outside of the issue of transubstantiation, LC seems to find virtue in confusion, particularly with regard to the seeming affirmation of an ex opere relationship of baptism to regeneration.  The reformed understanding is that there should neither be confusion (as with Rome) nor separation ( as in Zwingli) between the sign and the thing signified.  God uses the visible signs and seals as means of grace through which he works invisibly in the hearts of his people.  This is true not only of these sacraments, but also of his preached word, through which he enlivens hearts and creates faith.

The Second Hypothetical

LC sets up the following hypothetical situation:

Let us consider an adult male member of each church. Let us for a moment assume that this man is baptized and a member in good standing in the church. The obvious theological point is that this man is a covenant member. He is outwardly and visibly a member of the covenant community. However, there is no clear knowledge of his inward or invisible faith. In other words, despite his participation in church, he may not actually be among the elect. Now, let us add a visible sin to the picture. This man owns a local hardware store. His store is open Saturday and Sunday (for clarity and to sure there is a fourth commandment issue), and he not only works in the store himself on these days, but forces his employees to do the same. He is unwilling to hear of anyone telling him otherwise. Let us begin.

I chose this example for several reasons, but there are two compelling issues here. First, many would say that this isn’t really a sin. I fail to see the wiggle room myself, but if MDA chooses, he can change the sin to one more suited to his arguments. Secondly, once we accept this is a true violation of the fourth commandment in the intention of the man, we can easily move past the issue of its habitual nature.

Now, it is to MDA to explain how he views the situation of this man in terms of his ultimate salvation, membership in the church, state of repentance and finally whether and how he is fenced and disciplined. My own thoughts I will save for second place as I have far too much ground to cover without first understanding the process about which we will spar.

 

Before getting into the particulars of this, I need to state that the chosen issue is a difficult one, as there are varying views regarding the Sabbath within the PCA.  Certainly, the Westminster standards take a very -- many would say excessively -- strict view of of the Christian Sabbath that forbids not only unnecessary work, but also all recreation, in order that the believer would focus entirely on worship.  In the PCA, those seeking licensure or ordination must declare any exceptions that they have to the standards, and the Westminister teaching on the Sabbath is by far the most commonly requested exception.  Presbyteries generally exercise their discretion in permitting the licensiate or ordinand to proceed with this exception on the record.

 

Having said that, the attitude and conduct of the hypothetical member would be widely regarded as sinful.  With that in mind, I would submit the following:

 

1. RE this statement:  However, there is no clear knowledge of his inward or invisible faith. In other words, despite his participation in church, he may not actually be among the elect.  Could that not be said of any and every member of the church?

 

2.  For this type of sin, the primary type of discipline would be the public teaching of the Word of God.  In addition, depending on the church, the pastor and/or the elders might meet with the man to urge him to reconsider his position and repent of his Sabbath breaking.

 

3.  Even with non-repentance, I would not make any assumptions based on this situation with regard to the person's ultimate salvation.  Nor do I believe that most churches would deny admission to the sacraments or exercise any other judicial process.

Osteen: Antichrist?

So, yesterday, as nicely as possible, I made the statement to a friend that Joel Osteen is antichrist. Why did I say such a thing?

I admit that I partly did so just to be provocative, but that is not to say that I was guilty of provocation without a point. It was not intended as mere insult; it was a statement that I believe I can demonstrate to be true. And, I wish for others to think seriously about this claim.

Before going further, I should emphasize that I did not say that Mr. Osteen was "the" antichrist. In Scripture, the antichrist is the person who appears near the end of the age who personifies all that is opposed to God. That is what gets talked about in much popular Christian teaching. However, the Bible also talks about a spirit or principle of antichrist that presents itself throughout the time between the first and second coming of Christ and that culminates in the ultimate antichrist just mentioned. Thus, I John 4:3 says that "the spirit of the antichrist ... is in the world already." In other words, when the antichrist appears, he will be the culmination of something that has been around throughout this age. It is this more general principle of antichrist that I apply to the ministry of Joel Osteen. Even so, I can imagine that I would be challenged to defend the notion that a popular minister is antichrist.

To answer that challenge, it is important to understand what antichrist (either the principle or the ultimate personification) does. While there are many facets of his work, one area of focus involves an impact on the visible church. I John 4:1-3 associates antichrist with the refusal to make certain confessions about Jesus Christ. II Thessalonians 2 has this "man of lawlessness" taking his seat in the church, soliciting worship of himself, and causing a rebellion (or "apostacy," in the Greek). Thus, antichrist is one who, operating within the church, turns worshippers away from our Lord and Savior.

This is what Joel Osteen does. Establishing himself as a sort of minister in a church, he teaches an odd religion that is not Christianity. That is to say, Mr. Osteen does not offer a version of Christianity that differs from my own. Rather, he teaches an entirely different religion. Let me explain.

While Christianity talks about a great many things, at its foundation, it is a religion that concerns itself with what God does about our sins. Put another way, Christainity can be summed up in three words: God saves sinners. That is to say, God, out of his magnificant grace, has found a people among the ruins of human depravity and by the death and resurrection of his son, has forgiven them and adopted them as his own children, providing to them a glorious future as fellow heirs with Christ. That is what it is all about.

Yet, Mr. Osteen openly avows that he doesn't talk about sin, which he considers too negative. While that sounds kind, it means that his followers are deprived of the great gifts that God offers in Christ. To borrow C.S. Lewis' analogy, he ofers mudpies in street puddles to those who do not know that they could instead enjoy a vacation at the sea. He offers a best life now, ignoring the offer of eternal life in Christ Jesus.

This is not to say that Mr. Osteen should engage in finger pointing denunciations of sinners, but with no doctrine of sin, there are no sinners who need to be saved, and there is no need of a Savior. Mr. Osteen's religion guts the hope offered in Christianity.

It does not help Mr. Osteen's case that he uses some Christian terminology, because he redefines those terms to mean things other than what Christians believe. To illustrate, let me ask the question: who is Harry Monroe? In the movie Stir Crazy, Richard Pryor portrayed a character named Harry Monroe. My father's name is Harry Monroe. A former Catholic priest accused of committing serious crimes in the 1970's was named Harry Monroe. The director of a rescue mission in Chicago many years ago was named Harry Monroe. An on-air personality at Voice of America also shares this name. None of those people are me, and other than my dad, none are related to me. To use my name is not necessarily to make reference to me, and to use Christian terms is not necessarily the same thing as teaching Christianity.

What then does Mr. Osteen teach? Largely, it is the worship of self. Mr. Osteen is often said to be a more smooth talking version of the old name it and claim it religion, but actually he goes much further. In the Bible, it is only God who has the power of ex nihilo creation -- the power to speak, and something is created out of nothing. Misquoting and misapplying various verses, Mr. Osteen asserts this as a power of his followers. In so doing, he echoes the voice of the serpent in the garden of Eden, offering to human beings the claim to be like God. This is nothing short of blasphemy, idolatry, and self-worship.

If the spirit of antichrist entails an effort at supplanting Christianity within the churches in favor of worship of an alternative deity, then Mr. Osteen meets that definition. With that, I rest my case.