Salvation: Quadrant 3

What is salvation?

In my first post in this series I proposed the below chart as a way of answering that important question. In this post I will comment on the third quadrant (3). 

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

Quadrant 3 identifies salvation as the future transformation of presently broken human persons (in both body and soul) into participants of a new humanity (both body and soul) in the new heavens and new earth.

To identify our personal future glorification as only the resurrection of the body is reductionistic. It is not comprehensive enough in the chart. Rather, our glorification is a metaphorsis into the likeness of Jesus the Messiah–the new human–in both body and soul; it is a passing from the old to the new in every way, a wholistic salvation of the person.

We are saved from death (thus, the resurrection of our bodies) and we are saved from corruption (thus, our souls–inner life–are fully transformed). Through our union with Christ, we are a recreated humanity as the image of God. This is our final state of glorification as we are united with the glorified Christ–the new human who reigns over creation in a glorified (resurrected) body.

This resurrected body is neither immaterial nor spiritual (that is, ethereal). Rather it is material and Spiritual. What I mean is our bodies will have material substance–they will share in the materiality of the new heaven and new earth, but they will be animated by the Holy Spirit rather than by “flesh and blood.” The life of the immortal body is not sustained by nutrition and blood (“life is in the blood”) as in the Adamic world, but it is sustained by the life-giving Spirit according to the model of the New Adam. The hope of the Christian faith is not the immortal soul, but the immortal body which is a part of the new creation in the new heaven and new earth. Our redemption–our salvation–includes the redemption of our bodies.

The soul–our inner likeness with God, our theosis–is perfected in the new heaven and new earth. While the process of perfection began in the past and continues in the present, it is not complete until we fully participate in the life of Christ at our resurrection. Then we shall fully be as he is though we do not know what that is like as we only now experience a foretaste of that future. We, like Jesus, will experience transfiguration in the new creation. We will be permanently transfigured into the image of God, a theosis of the new humanity in both body and soul.

We will be saved as part of the new creation to image God in the new heavens and new earth. We will be saved for eternal communion with God and to serve God as his images in the new temple, the new creation. God will save us to restore our original dignity and function, and God will glorify us by reinstating our dominion (reign) over the creation. Thus, with transformed bodies and souls we will again co-rule with God in the cosmos he created.

Salvation: Quadrant 2

What is salvation?

In my first post in this series I proposed the below chart as a way of answering that important question. In this post I will comment on the second quadrant (2).  I debated with myself (which is an interesting thing to observe ) whether to proceed numerically 1, 2, 3…. or to proceed temporally (talk about all the past dimensions, then the present, then the future). I finally decided on the numerical method because in this series I ultimately want to emphasize what is usually neglected, that is, the cosmic (and often the communal as well).

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

Quadrant 2 identifies salvation as a present experience of “moral,” both inward and outward, transformation into the image of Christ who is the image of the invisible God. Personal sanctification is the process of becoming like Christ.

I put “moral” in quotation marks because I don’t want to simply identify this transformation by ethical virtues and practices (‘good works”) though it is a significant part of what I am attempting to describe.  The danger is to reduce our transformation to “doing ethics” rather than “being Christ” and to claim the power of this transformation as rooted in our own moral efforts rather than in the empowerment of the Holy Spirit.

Becoming like Christ entails moral transformation through the fruit-bearing power of the Spirit in our lives. We struggle against the “flesh” (σαρξ). There is a conflict or war inside of us. Indwelling sin battles against the indwelling Spirit so that we are often conflicted and we sometimes do not do what we want. Personal sanctification is a progressive though imperfect struggle against the sinful nature. We are neither perfectionists nor moral defeatists in this struggle–it is a battle that can be won only on the ground of the work of Christ and by the enabling presence of the Spirit but it is a hard-won victory through cooperative grace. The presence of the struggle reveals the presence of Spirit-enabled life. Through moral transformation we are saved from the debilitating power of sin.

This moral transformation is not limited to our inwardness, but is relational and kingdom-directed. It is practicing the kingdom of God just as Jesus did. It is becoming Jesus inwardly and outwardly.

But personal sanctification is not simply about moral transformation, struggle and victory, that is, defeating sin in our lives and being filled with the Spirit. It is also about being–living in communion and fellowship with God, participating in the mutual indwelling life of the Triune God. The Orthodox call personal sanctification theosis, that is, “defification.” It is an ancient characterization of life with God which goes back to at least Irenaeus in the late second century. It is reflected in 2 Peter 1:4 through the language of becoming partakers of the divine nature. We do not become ontologically divine (that is, we do not become infinite, omniscient, omnipotent, etc., so that we are God), but we experience the divine and become participants in the divine community.

Theosis includes moral transformation but it also includes ultimately participation in divine immortality (that is, glorification). Additionally, it includes a present experience of sharing the divine life and communion.  It is about being–living, sharing, communing–with God. Theosis even claims that believers may seek and experience a union with God that is analogous to Jesus’ own transfiguration, that is, believers may enjoy momentary experiences of eschatological communion through inward transfiguration even now as foretastes of what is to come. In other words, we may know God in ways that are beyond knowing and experience the depth of God’s love in ways that go beyond mere cognition (Ephesians 3:14-19).

God is certainly present with us in the now, but our awareness of that presence and communion is limited by our own brokenness and busyness. Spiritual practices, such as solitude, still our minds and hearts in ways that open up the fuller reality of God’s presence with us and enable us to experience the joy of our future blessedness even now. Theosis envisons not only our moral transformation into the likeness of Christ but opens our eyes to see that God draws us into the experience of divine union through the Holy Spirit who cries “Abba” in our hearts.

Our personal present salvation, then, is not only about moral effort (cooperative grace) but also about existential participation in the divine community. Our present salvation is about participation–participation in mission of the kingdom of God and participation in the Triune communion.

Though this participation we become Christ(ians) in the world.

Salvation: Quadrant 1

What is salvation?

In my last post I proposed the below chart as a way of answering that important question. In this post I will comment on the first quadrant (1).

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

Quadrant 1 identifies salvation as a past, personal experience of reconciliation (healed relationship) with God through the forgiveness of sins and the imputation of righteousness.

I identify past as “Justification” because this is traditional (though western) language for the moment of conversion. It is technical theological jargon, a kind of insider language for western Christian theologians. It is helpful as a technical term because it economizes words. “Justification” is a categorical term that says alot  in one word rather than mulitplying phrases to describe what happens in “Justification.” 

Yet, there is a danger. When Paul uses the Greek term δικαιωσιν (justification, righteousness), it is not only used in reference to a past conversion moment but is also used as a synonymn for the present (e.g., Romans 6:13; sanctification) and future (e.g., Galatians 5:5; glorification) dimensions of salvation. Consequently, we cannot assume that every time Paul uses a cognate of δικαιος (just, righteous) that he is thinking about what theologians have called “Justification.” With that caveat, I think it is still helpful to use the technical terminology–at least in some contexts. But what is more important is to recognize the “past” nature of our salvation as a specific aspect of our rescue from brokenness.

Another important feature of identifying this quadrant is to recognize the personal nature of our salvation. I have avoided the term “individual” because I don’t want to raise the spector of individualism. We are not saved as isolated, disconnected individuals. But we are saved as persons, that is, we personally experience salvation. We are saved as persons by persons (Father, Son and Spirit) for relationship with persons (each other as well as the Triune community). Consequently, I do not have categorical problems with expressions like “personal relationship with Jesus or God” though I would have concerns about how that sentiment might be interpreted or applied individualistically.

What does it mean for persons to experience salvation as a past moment in their lives?  Perhaps we have to first ask what enslaves us. From what are we rescued or saved? What is broken? What or who captivates us?

Ultimately, relationships are broken, strained and hostile. This includes relationship with the self (we are fragmented people within ourselves), community (division, war, hostility), the cosmos (hostility) and God (broken communion). The personal focus of “Justification” is healing our personal relationship with God both forensically (guilt) and relationally (restored communion) . Relationship is restored and communion renewed through the forgiveness of sins (or non-imputaton of sin) and the imputation of righteouenss (Romans 4; 2 Corinthians 5).

Abraham was justified. David was forgiven. It is personal. I do believe we have a personal relationship with God. This is not a personalism disconnected from community but it is a personalism that recognizes that a person is healed through communion with God and the salvation is applied personally as well as communally.

This gift of relationship–reconciliation–is personally experienced through the presence of the Holy Spirit. This is not merely a forensic event (a “not guilty” verdict or a declaration that we “in the right” by God’s act), but a communing encounter with the presence of God through the gift of the Spirit. The moment is forensic but also existential; it is both legal and relational. Indeed, the forensic (forgiveness of sins and imputation of righteousness) is a means toward the relational goal of existential communion.  But more needs to be said but I will leave that to Quadrant #2.

This past act of “Justification” enables a present experience. It is not that we dwell in the past. Rather, we recognize that God’s past work in our lives empowers us to live confidently and boldly in the present. This is assurance. God’s act of justification is the ground of our assurance which we embrace through faith.

Justificaiton is God’s work–it is God’s declaration, God’s faithfulness, God’s forgiveness and God’s gift–which the Father accomplishes through the faithfulness of Jesus and applies to us through the work of the Holy Spirit. As we personally receive this gift through faith, we personally experience restored communion (relationship) with God.

A “Comprehensive” Perspective on Salvation

What is salvation?

Seems like a simple question. Maybe, but maybe not.  There are certainly uncomplicated aspects to answering the question, but a “comprehensive” picture is an integrated one that explores the question from various angles.

The question may seem simple because it has often been answered simplistically. Or, perhaps better, it has often been answered with a focus on one dimension or aspect of salvation. And, in addition, it is often answered without a salvation history or redemptive history perspective, that is, the cosmic and communal dimensions of salvation have often been ignored or neglected in defining “salvation.”

In a series of coming posts, I want to explore this question.

My students know that I like charts…or at least drawing on the board (both chalk and white, though I prefer the white ones). Charts are helpful for “big picture” views, identifying various dimensions of the subject and organizing thoughts. But charts can also be constraining as they box us into particular ways of looking at a question and they are often reductionistic rather than illuminating. Nevertheless, I employ charts because they are more helpful than risky.

Below is a chart that I will explain in coming posts. 

Salvation is most often defined as the personal forgiveness of sins and a personal relationship with God (quadrant 1) but rarely described as a participation in the cosmic redemption of the creation (quadrant 8).

	Past Justification	Present Sanctification	Future Glorification
Personal	Forgiveness of Sins and Relationship with God (1)	Moral (Inner and Outer)  Transformation (2)	Resurrection of the Body (3)
Communal	One Body of Christ: One New Society (4)	Reconciliation and Social Transformation (5)	The Fullness of the Kingdom of God (6)
Cosmic	Resurrection and Exaltation of Jesus (7)	Redemptive Emergence of New Creation (8)	New Heaven and New Earth (9)

I will leave you to ponder the chart as you desire and anticipate (if that is the right word ) the next post that will begin to unpack my wholistic understanding of salvation.

Peace, John Mark

All Saints Day

When the Byzantine Emperor Leo V (866-911) wanted to dedicate a church to his recently deceased and godly wife, the Patriarch denied this requested.  Consequently, he dedicated it to “all saints” which, he assumed, would include his wife. Thus was born the Eastern festival celebration of “all saints” on the first Sunday after Pentecost.

In the West the origin of “All Saints” day is Pope Boniface V’s dedication of the Roman Pantheon (“all gods”) as a church dedicated to the Mary and the martyrs on May 13, 610 (which was the date of a pagan festival regarding the dead). The date was moved to November 1 by Pope Gregory III (731-741) and expanded to include “all saints.”

I am no expert on the history of “All Saints Day.” In fact, my acquaintance is fairly superficial.

I am not particularly enamoured with asking dead saints to pray or intercede for me, though I do not rule that out and God knows I can certainly use all the intercessors I can get.  But here is what I particularly enjoy about “All Saints Day.” 

The day is rooted theologically in the communion of the saints, all the saints, everywhere–”in heaven and on earth.” The festival reminds us that when we assemble as the body of Christ on earth, we assemble with the saints “in heaven.” We join their heavenly praise of God and the Lamb as depicted in Revelation 5 and we participate in the glorious joy of the saints that surround the throne of God.

We are not alone. We cannot see behind the veil, but John did in Revelation 7:9ff–which is one of the lectionary texts for All Saints Day. We are surrounded by witnesses according to Hebrews 12–another one of the lectionary texts for All Saints Day.

I find great joy, comfort and peace in this reality–and it is real to me. It is a moment when I share again the praise of God with my father, my first wife, my son, and many others I could name whose presence I miss. 

All Saints Day is a day to focus on this eternal communion between the saints through their communion with the Triune God. Called by the Father, redeemed by the Son and empowered by the Spirit we too stand in the presence of glory with the saints who have gone before. 

All Saints Day is a day to rejoice, a day to remember (much like “Memorial Day” for our veterans), and a day to participate in the doxology of the heavenly throne room.  Instead of debunking it or ignoring it, let us embrace the theological reality upon which it is based.

Let us join together this Sunday with saints all over the world and with all the saints in the heavenly throne room to praise the God who has loved us, redeemed us and is transforming us that we might fully become the image of the Son and his Father.

Acts 2:42 – Practicing the Kingdom of God

They were continually devoting themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship,

to the breaking of bread and to prayer (Acts 2:42, NASV)

Borrowing from Brother Lawrence, I have been using the language of “practicing the kingdom of God” in recent years. I don’t mean that as an alternative to or a substitute for Brother Lawrence’s “practicing the presence of God,” but as a specific way of talking about a communal discipleship which is a mode of living in the world for the sake of the world. I might even think of it as a subcategory of practicing the presence of God or as an expansion of the idea itself. I am open to thinking about it either way or both, or perhaps another relation. Whatever….

Acts 2:42, I believe, is one way of describing what it means to practice the kingdom of God as a community. Indeed, the story of the church in Acts describes how the disciples, at least in part, practiced the kingdom of God. Acts 2:42 is a summary which contains elements which are a consistent part of the story throughout Luke’s narrative. The disciples were constantly devoted to their practice–communal habits which embodied the kingdom of God in the world.

Kingdom language is present throughout Acts–from beginning (Acts 1:3) to end (Acts 28:31). Philip preached the good news of the kingdom (Acts 8:12) and Paul continually proclaimed the kingdom of God (Acts 20:25) in his ministry. Just as Jesus in Luke (4:41-43), so the church in Acts, they proclaimed the good news of the kingdom in word (teaching, prayer, praise, etc.) and deed(table, ministry, miracle, etc.).

Actually, each element in Acts 2:42 reaches back into the Gospel of Luke and projects foward into the rest of Acts.  Acts 2:42 becomes a practical “hinge” between Luke’s two narratives. Just as the church continued to teach and do what Jesus did concerning the kingdom of God (Acts 1:1), each of the particulars in Acts 2:42 were part of his ministry–teaching, community (fellowship), breaking bread and prayer. The church continues what Jesus began.

Luke’s summary assumes that readers have a way of identifying the meaning of the particulars–they are known not only by the rest of Acts, but also through the previous narrative in Luke as well as the present experience of the community to which he is writing.  What the apostles taught is found both in the teaching of Jesus himself and in the preaching of the apostles in Acts. The nature of the “fellowship”  in this context is shared resources (property, money and food), and this continues throughout the rest of the narrative as well as in the minstry of Jesus.  “Breaking bread” occurs three other times in Acts (2:46; 20:7,11; and 27:35) and always involves a meal (“food”)–indeed, every occurence of “breaking bread” in Luke also involved a meal (9:13; 22:19; 24:30). Breaking bread is a meal (perhaps more on that in another post or two). The prayers were a common feature of Jesus’ ministry as well as the Lukan church in Acts.

Theologically, James A. Harding called these practices  ”means of grace.” I think there is merit in that description which reminds us that to practice the kingdom of God is to open our lives to the inbreaking of God’s kingdom as he acts through appointed means. God comes through the teaching of his church; he comes through the fellowship of his people; he comes through the breaking of bread; and he comes through the prayers.  Consequently, these are not merely obedient acts on the part of God’s people as it they are simple prescriptions (laws) in the kingdom of God, but they are modes of divine action. They are the means through which God comes to his people in order to transform and by which his kingdom breaks into the world.

Exegetically, I would suggest that (1) teaching and (2) fellowship are broad categories.  Fellowship, then, is illustrated or partly itemized by (a) breaking bread and (b) prayer. Technically, note that there is no “and” (kai) between “fellowship” and “breaking bread” in the text. The absence of the conjunction probably indicates that breaking bread and prayer are subcategories of “fellowship.” Otherwise we would have a successive “(1) and (2) and (3) and (4)” rather than the “(1) and (2), (a) and (b).” 

If this is the case, then fellowship–as a broad idea–includes not only eating together at meals and prayers, but also sharing material resources with each other.  Fellowship broadly conceived–meals, prayers, sharing resources–is teased out in 2:43-47.  There are both lexical and thematic connections between Acts 2:42 and Acts 2:43-47. Their koinonia (fellowship) is experienced through having everything in koina (common), by breaking bread in their homes, and by praising God at both temple and home.

Luke’s description in Acts 2:42 is not primarily about assembly (though it applies to it), but about a discipled lifestyle. It is a communal way of living in the world by which God himself is present and dynamically transforming his people into the fullness of his kingdom. The people of God learn of him and live in community with each other which includes sharing their resources with the poor, sharing their food together and praying together.

Understood in this way, Acts 2:42 is a summary of communal spiritual formation, a mode of communal sanctification. These are the communal habits by which the people of God are formed and shaped into the image of Jesus–to be like the Jesus who ministered in the Gospel of Luke, that is, to be the body of Christ in the world. Through these communal habits they embody the life, ministry and mission of Jesus as Luke pictured him in his Gospel.

Marx, Paul, and Obama? A Comment on “Spreading the Wealth”

“From each according to their ability, to each according to their need.”

                 Karl Marx

“At the present time your plenty will supply what they need, so that in turn their plenty will supply what you need. Then there will be equality [fair balance, NRSV; or, equity], as it is written ‘He who gathered much did not have too much, and he who gathered little did not have too little” [quoting Exodus 16:18].

                  Apostle Paul, 2 Corinthians 8:14-15

The former quote has become quite popular in some circles since Barbara West quoted it when she asked Joe Biden a question about Obama’s supposed Marxism.

There is something quite healthy about Marx’s point. Indeed, there is something quite biblical about it…sort of. 

Paul writes something similar and even grounds it in God’s distribution of manna in the wilderness. When God distributes wealth (manna), he intends to supply the needs of the impoverished and those who have too much share what they have with those who have too little. God provides every blessing in abundance and blessed people scatter those gifts to the poor (2 Corinthians 8:8-9, quoting Psalm 112:9). God’s creative intent did not design poverty and the kingdom of God–whether Israel (Deuteronomy 15:4) or the Jesus community (Acts 4:34)–should have no needy among them.

Within the community of God this sharing is voluntary. Giving to the poor in both Israel and the Jesus’ community was a choice. It was not violently coerced. Marx, however, was willing to employ violence in his pursuit of economic justice.  In addition to the quote that heads this post, Karl Marx also said, “The last capitalist we hang shall be the one who sold us the rope.”

The kingdom of God, hopefully embodied in Jesus’ church, willingly and generously gives so that there is equity. This does not mean there is no private property or that some will not have more than others. Rather, it means that everyone has what they need. Disciples of Jesus share their wealth, sell their possessions to give to the poor, and announce good news to the poor. They do this out of the riches of the grace God has supplied rather than out of duty, threat, or coercion. Unfortunately, and admittedly too true of me, disciples often do not trust God sufficiently to share their abundant resources with the needy so that those who have too little have enough.

But we move too quickly when we say that it is purely voluntary. The Torah regulated Israel’s treatment of the poor.  It did not coerce lending to the poor, but there were legal protections for the poor and legal provisions for the needy that hindered and even restricted the open-ended growth of wealth. 

The law required the cancellation of debts every seven years.  This hindered the wealthy from exploiting the poor through interest rates and permanent indebtedness.  I wonder how many credit cards college students would receive in the mail if every seven years their debts were wiped clean. This legal provision regulated financial predators.  The return of the land to original families at Jubilee prevented the rich from unlimited wealth through the acquisition of property.  Generational wealth based on land ownership was limited. The Jubillee regulation was partly intended to hinder the acquisition of land to limitlessly enrich a particular family.

Israel’s example of how government can regulate wealth and protect the poor provides some fodder for discussion.  I tend to think unrestrained capitalism is a problem, but neither do I find socialism or Marxism particularly beneficient to the poor or a discouragement to elitist luxury.  Humanity is “naturally” (“by nature” through our sarx) evil, covetous, and greedy whether in a capitalist or socialist society.  

Yet, government, according to Romans 13, is ordained by God to protect the innocent and punish evil. Economic injustice, as the prophets of Israel make clear, is an evil. Given the systemic evil and greed within the structures of society (whether capitalist or socialist), I think government should play a role in restraining greed, pursuing economic justice [e.g., protecting the poor from predatory practices that prey upon their circumstances], and assisting the poor.

I am not a specialist in economics. In fact, I have no doubt that my ignorance is much greater than my knowledge. I wish I knew how to pursue economic justice in American culture. I know I don’t have the answers. I tend to think a restrained capitalism is the best system and can accomplish the greatest good for the poor, but I don’t feel myself qualified to determine whose economic policies, McCain or Obama, are best. I wish I knew though I believe both have a heart and interest in protecting the poor from exploitation.

I do not intend my blog to become a place for political partisanship. My interests are larger than the election of a particular President. I am not advocating for either on this issue. I can see it both ways and I am uncertain about which economic policy is best for the poor and growing the economy.

I am bothered by those who seem to think that only Obama cares for the poor or middle class.  I am bothered by those who will vote for McCain simply because they want to keep their money. I tend to think that McCain and Obama are fighting over a middle ground of some kind–protect the poor, assist the poor, but do not punish the wealthy simply because they are wealthy. 

I am not even an economic specialist when it comes to my own lifestyle.  I “tithe plus,” but it still seems inadequate to me.  I drive cars over 100,000 miles and don’t buy new cars.  I shop first at Goodwill.  But it still seems inadequate to me. I am rich…and I certainly don’t make anything near $250,000. 

I suppose my point is this.  Disciples of Jesus share their wealth. Government has a function to punish evil, including restraining the evil of economic greed and injustice.  How that should play out is uncertain to my mind. I simply don’t know, but I don’t have to know.

What I think I know, however, is that disciples of Jesus spread their wealth around and give their gifts from God to the poor. This is my point, a reminder to myself and perhaps to others.

Whoever is elected, McCain or Obama, my allegiance to the kingdom of God means I will share my wealth with the poor. Whoever is elected, McCain or Obama, God will accomplish his will and continue to introduce his kingdom into the world. Whoever is elected, McCain or Obama, has little to nothing to do with the in-breaking of God’s kingdom.

P.S. Charitable giving by the candidates according to tax returns (where not all charitable giving is recorded, at least for my family).

McCain personally gave 26% of his income in 2007 and 18% in 2006 plus donating his book royalties since 1998 which totals almost $2,000,000.

Obama and his wife gave less than 1% from 2000-2004 but 5% in 2005 and 5.7% in 2006 (book deals gave the family increased income in the last few years).

Biden and his wife gave .03% in 2007 and .01% from 1998-2007.

Palin and her husband gave 3.3% in 2006 and 1.5% in 2007.

Jesus’ Eyes: Do You Know “the Look”?

One of the most vivid scenes in Luke is Peter’s 3x denial, particularly “the look.”

         ”The Lord turned around and looked straight at Peter” (Luke 22:61, GNB).

The verbs are intensive, descriptive, and full of significance.  “Turned around,” which is actually a participle in the Greek text, involves twisting or reversing; it is turning the back 180% degrees. Jesus turned around–he “converted” as the term is sometimes translated–to look at Peter. But it was no mere glance; it was an intense gaze. Jesus looked at Peter with piercing, discerning eyes.

         Turning his body toward Peter, the Lord’s eyes rested on Peter (JMH amplified).

The next verbs in Luke 22:61-62 describe Peter’s actions.  He “remembered” what Jesus had predicted about the denial….he went and wept bitterly.” Confronted with his betrayal, Peter “remembered.”  He then escaped; he ran away. And then he wailed violently–a visible, audible, wrenching sob. Peter, faced with his denial and memory, was a totally broken man. Remembering Jesus’ prediction–and, no doubt, his own insistence that it would never happen–he burst into tears.

What  did Peter see in the eyes of Jesus that pierced his heart?  What did those eyes tell him?

I think how we answer that question will probably say more about our own vision of God than it would Peter’s.  We can’t get inside of Peter’s head, but we can examine our own.  Our root image of God–perhaps one we learned in childhood, one that is at the core of our inner being–will probably shape how we “feel” this text.

We can easily imagine what Peter felt.  No doubt he felt shame and guilt.  We have all felt the same when confronted with our sins. That shame and guilt taps into something deep within us, and our core understanding of God will shape how we deal with it.

For some the eyes of Jesus may be primarily condemning. Peter sinned; he did not measure up. He did not keep the law; he betrayed a friend. The law condemns him, and Jesus condemns him. At the root of this perception is an angry God, a judge who strictly administers the law without mercy. Jesus, with these eyes, is insulted and offended.  “How dare Peter deny me!  I thought he was my friend!   Didn’t he say he would go to the death with me! He deserves whatever he gets!” This God is the Zeus who sits on the throne ready to cast his lightning bolts to earth on those who deserve his vengeance. These eyes convey no hope, no redemption. Unfortunately, they are the eyes that many have lived with for years, even when intellectually they know the story of grace much better than their guts will let them feel. It is what some got from their parents–a series of spankings, condemnations. They heard the message that they were bad kids and deserved punishment. Are these the eyes that met Peter’s eyes?

For others the eyes of Jesus may be primarily filled with disappointment. Peter disappointed Jesus; he had hoped for better.  Peter knew better; he knew he should not deny his Lord, but he did nevertheless. Peter had expectations of himself. Even if everyone else ran away, he would not.  He would die with Jesus if necessary. The disappointed eyes are the opposite of what Peter wanted. He wanted approval, praise, and honor. To feel Jesus’ disappointment means he was seeking Jesus’ commendation. It is what we often seek from parents as children; we don’t want to disappoint our parents. Some parents, when disappointed, shame their children.  “I knew you couldn’t do it.  Why can’t you be like Johnny? When will you ever learn?  Do I have to do everything myself? I can’t trust you with anything. I’ll have to finish what you could not complete.”  We tend to project this onto God so that he becomes like the shaming parent who voices disapproval, disappointment, and dissatisfaction. Are these the eyes that met Peter’s eyes?

At my core, my childhood images–images that I learned but surely few, if any, ever intentionally taught me–tend to see the eyes of an angry, disappointed God. My sin gave me a toxic shame that meant that I was worthless, a mistake, a screwup. I needed to get God’s approval, to get on his good side. I wanted God to like me and certainly not punish me. So, I needed to work harder, better, even faster…to do more, to do enough.

Intellectually, I know that last paragraph is bogus. Emotionally, however, it has been a different story. And so when I worked my way to a hellacious screwup (read: sin)–working for what I thought God wanted but actually working myself to death, even a spiritual death–I immediately felt God’s disappointment.  “John Mark, you should’ve known better.”  Or, “John Mark, how could you?!”  Or, “John Mark, what were you thinking?”

This week I have been meditating on these eyes–the eyes that pierced Peter’s heart.  I am Peter. What did Peter see?

I don’t think he saw condemning, judgmental eyes.  Neither do I think he saw disappointed eyes.  I think he saw sadness, a compassionate and hopeful sadness.  Jesus grieved for Peter. His eyes expressed sympathy and caring. They were redemptive eyes. Jesus is more interested in relationship with Peter than excluding, punishing or shaming Peter. Jesus reveals the divine loving parent who grieves over the failures of his children but does not give up on them. Peter saw in Jesus’ eyes his ongoing compassionate, forgiving, loving prayer that Peter would be strengthened by this experience and the hope in his eyes was the assurance that indeed Peter would.

In our betrayals, our sins, our denials, what do we see in the eyes of Jesus? With Peter we will remember and weep bitterly. That is understandable and healthy.  But also with Peter we may gain strength through the compassionate hope in those eyes.

In The Shack, Mack asked Papa: “honestly, don’t you enjoy punishing those who disappoint you?”  Papa “turned toward Mack” and with “deep sadness in her eyes,” said:  “I am not who you think I am, Mackenzie. I don’t need to punish people for sin. Sin is its own punishment, devouring you from the inside. It’s not my purpose to punish it; it’s my joy to cure it” (pp. 119-120).

I think Paul Young got that just about right. Intellectually, I understand it.  Emotionally, well, I’m learning.

Jesus’ eyes, though sad, anticipated the joy of redemption for Peter….and for me…for all of us.

What a Difference a Century Makes

Whatever your political allegiance–or non-allegiance, like me–the election of an African American to the Presidency of the United States is a historic event, and that is an understatement.

Whatever direction your vote went last Tuesday we can all rejoice that another ethnic and racial barrier has been breached.

A century ago, when Jim Crow laws were in full force, very few African Americans could even vote much less hold governmental office.  A half-century ago, when segregation still reigned, an African American President was unimaginable. A decade ago, the only African American in the United States Senate–Carol Moseley Braun of Illinois–was defeated in her re-election bid.

Change, indeed, has come to America!

Change has come to Churches of Christ as well.

In 1902 an author (initials G.P.O.) in the socially progressive (by comparison with other journals among Churches of Christ) Christian Leader (November 11, p. 3) opined that given their ignorance, emotional immaturity, and general idleness “the repression of the negro vote in the South may even prove a blessing in disguise by turning the negro’s attention towards self-improvement and the necessity of making a living by toil.” With historical hindsight–and recognizing that had I lived at the time I probably would have agreed–I can only say, Wow! Plus, this appears in the only journal among Churches of Christ that had a regular column by an African American preacher and educator, Samuel Robert Cassius.

Fifty years ago Churches of Christ were silent about segregation and if they were vocal, they were usually defending the status quo (see Bobby Valentine’s blog for an illustration of such in 1957). The silence of our major periodicals in the late 1950s and early 1960s during the birth of the Civil Rights Movement is deafening and chilling. One would only need to read through some of the articles from the 1950s and 1960s at Don Haymes’ anthology to get a feel for how deeply Churches of Christ were embedded in their southern culture. Listen to just one example: “The good, honest and sincere Negroes do not want integration as is attempted today. They know that they are happier and can serve God and their fellowman by remaining as God intended them to be and the purpose for which he created them.” Patronizing and self-serving; another (hindsight) Wow!

Last Tuesday, many within Churches of Christ voted for Obama, especially those who have come to see that voting for social justice is just as important as voting against abortion–both are pro-life orientations. Deuteronomy, for example, is just as concerned about just wages, fair treatment of aliens, and protection for the poor as it is protecting innocent life. Unjust wages and abortion, I believe, are both murder (read James 5:1-6, for example).

In my estimation neither candidate in this election was without flaw on the question of life. But I will leave that issue to the conscience of each reader and voter.

The deed is done. Whatever the political and policy ramifications, the racial witness here is a welcome one. It is a step in the right direction as far as race relations are concerned in this country.

Whether Obama will implement good policies is a different question and one upon which I will not comment. For now, I think we can enjoy the particular change that the election of an African American represents just as I would have also enjoyed the change that the election of a woman to the Vice Presidency would have represented as well. Either way would have been progress.

As for the future….in God we trust; I neither trust Obama/Biden nor McCain/Palin.

Forgiveness: Participating in the Divine Life

Forgive us our debts as we also have forgiven our debtors….For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

Matthew 6:12, 14-15

Mercy triumphs over judgment.

James 2:13b

[NOTE:  The Sunday before last, November 2, I returned to teaching at Woodmont Hills Church of Christ after an eleven month rest. It felt rather odd but yet comfortable. (I know that doesn't make sense, but welcome to my world. ).  I decided to return to teaching with a series on forgiveness that was stirred by my recent reflections on The Shack as well as my journey over the past year (and the cumulative effect of previous years). The four lessons are: (1) Receiving forgiveness, which I posted last week, (2) Giving Forgiveness, which is this week's post, (3) Forgiving Self, and (4) Forgiving God.]

Giving forgiveness is exactly that–it is an act of grace, a gift. Forgiveness is not owed; it is not a debt we must pay any more than it is a debt God must pay when he forgives us. As such, forgiveness cannot be demanded, coerced, or even expected by offenders. Forgiveness is something we give.

At one level, giving forgiveness is therapeutic and healthy. It does something for us and inside of us, including lowering blood pressure and decreasing heart rates. It releases negativity; it vents the poison that can corrupt our souls.  It is freedom from repressed negative emotionis. When we refuse to forgive we fuel a cancer that devours us. Consequently, forgiveness is something we do for ourselves. We forgive that we might live without resentment and bitterness.  We forgive for the sake of our own health.  The practice of forgiveness ultimately transforms.

But forgiveness is much more than a humanistic act of self-transformation. Forgiveness is participation in the divine life. It is being with others in the way that God is with us. It is to love as God loves. When we forgive we participate in God’s redemptive movement within the world. We stand with God as we forgive others; we participate in his own forgiving act.

Viewed in this way, forgiveness arises out of the work of God’s Spirit in our hearts. It arises out of our own experience of having received forgiveness from God, the empowerment of the Spirit to forgive as God forgives, and the sense of security/assurance that we are beloved by God no matter how others may treat us. Forgiveness is God’s work in our own hearts.

Remembering our own mistakes and sins empowers forgiveness; if God has forgiven us, then who are we to withhold forgiveness from others? Are we better than they? And, ah, that might be the very problem that hinders us….our pride, our sense of superiority, our self-righteousness.

What hinders forgiveness is our own resentment and bitterness.  We humans tend to wallow in self-pity, blame everyone else for how we feel, and fail to act positively with our negative feelings.  This resentment and bitterness leads to negative actions such as revenge so that we return evil for evil instead of forgiving the evil done against us.

Yet, when we have experienced hurt through the offense of another, anger is a natural and healthy response. There is nothing ungodly about a rape victim’s anger toward their assailant. There is nothing ungodly about a abused wife’s anger toward her husband. There is nothing ungodly about anger toward one’s sexual abuser. Part of the process of forgiveness may, in fact, involve confronting the other person with what they have done. Forgiveness does not mean that what the other person did is OK, but it does give the forgiver space to be OK about their past.  Forgiveness does not necessarily remove the hurt and pain of the past offense. Forgiveness prevents resentment or rids one of resentment, but the hurt may well remain. That hurt will take time to heal.

Actually resentment and bitterness arise out of our own woundedness.  Life has wounded all of us–we have been betrayed, neglected, and attacked by others and even (as it may seem) by God.  As a result we want to protect ourselves, rely on our own self-sufficiency, and blame everyone else rather than take responsibility for our lives.  Thus, we resent others when they hurt us.  We resent rather than forgive because this is how we think others have treated us. Our negative self-image, developed through childhood and other life experiences, yields a negative reaction to hurt in the form of resentment.  Unchecked, this resentment leads to revenge.

Forgiveness releases the other person to God. Instead of taking matters into our own hands or grabbing the offender by the throat with threats, we let go.  We let go and let God handle it. Anger becomes ungodly when it turns to revenge. When we return “evil for evil,” then we become an abuser rather than the abused. When we take vengenance into our own hands, then we become judge, jury, and executioner…we become God.

This does not mean that the forgiver must now reconcile with the forgiven. Reconciliation is a different matter altogether. Forgiveness–as an act of grace toward another–can happen without reconciliation since the other may not receive the forgiveness, may not think they need forgiveness, or may not want to renew (or begin) the relationship. It only takes one to forgive but it takes two to reconcile. While forgiveness may pave the way for reconciliation, forgiveness does not necessarily lead to reconciliation and reconciliation is not required for forgiveness.

Reconciliation may actually take much longer than forgiveness since reconciliation invovles a synergistic, cooperative process of mutual understanding. That takes time, intimacy, and trust.  Reconciliation assumes rebuilt trust and that is a painful, time-consuming process.

Forgiveness does not mean the offense was insignificant or that it did not hurt or there was no reason for anger. Rather, forgiveness is our decision to let God handle the justice, to let go of the other person’s throat, to let go of the resentment, and to let go any personal desire to punish. Postively, and more significantly, forgiveness means desiring for that person what you desire for yourself and treating that person the way God treats you. In short, it is to love them, even if they–in their minds–are our enemies.

We can only love when we feel loved by God. Our acceptance of God’s own forgiveness and our experience of the divine circle of love surrounds us with safety and security. We forgive out of that secure place–the place where we hear God say, “You are my beloved no matter what your past; you are loved.” That love overflows into forgiveness for others.

At bottom, “to forgive is divine” (Alexander Pope).

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.

Ephesians 4:32

Love covers a multitude of sins.

1 Peter 4:8

P.S.  Here is a chart I designed to communicate the point of this lessson for the class I was teaching.

Forgiving God: From Praise to Bitterness to Comfort

To forgive God is, for many–if not most, a necessary bridge to praising him.  But it is a difficult idea to grab hold of–how does one forgive God? What does that mean? And, indeed, it sounds blasphemous….as if God has done something wrong that needs forgiveness.  And who are we to forgive God anyway? We are the creatures, he is the creator; we are the clay, he is the potter.

Bear with me for a few posts on this topic…it is one with which I struggle, and I struggle to forgive my God.  Walk with me for a few days, meditate with me and pray with me.

I will begin with Job whom, I believe, learned to “forgive” God.

From Praise

Yahweh gave and Yahweh took away; blessed be the name of Yahweh. 

Shall we accept good from God and not trouble?

Job 1:21; 2:10

Job’s initial response to his tragic suffering is noble, laudable, and….practically unbelieveable!  How can he bless Yahweh in the face of such loss–prosperity, servants, health, and–most of all–his children!? 

This has led many to think that these are mere cliches on his lips; superficial expressions of piety that arise more out of his ritualistic (even legalistic, according to some) way of being religious.  It is all he knows to do in the face of the tragedy…repeat the phrases…repeat the prayers….hang on to the ritual as a way of believing.

I can appreciate that take on these words.  Indeed, there is some value to hanging on to the ritual in difficult times.  The ritual provides stability, a connection with past believers. But I don’t think this is true for Job in the prologue. Job–from beginning of the prologue to the end of the epilogue–is righteous, a person who fears God and shuns evil. His faith is not shallow. In fact, he is the one whom God offers as a cosmic test that there is such thing as faith in the universe God created and has permitted to fall into trouble. He is a true believer.

I have known people who have responded to tragedy with just such faith, particularly in the initial moments–me included for some of my circumstances.  I suppose we could say that they, too, are leaning on proverbial straws, but not necessarily.

It may be that a life of faith prepares one–to a certain extent–for tragic experiences. Perhaps living with God day-to-day enables a faith response to tragedy in those initial moments. I have seen mature believers face tragic news, dangerous surgeries and life-threatening situations with great faith, piety and–yes, even–hope.

But…

To Bitterness

I will speak out in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

I will give free reign to my complaint and speak out in the bitterness of my soul.

God has denied me justice and made me taste the bitterness of soul.

God has wronged me…though I cry “I have been wronged,” I get no response….his anger burns against me; he counts me among his enemies

Job 7:11; 10:1; 27:2; 19:6, 7, 11.

But sometimes when believers sit in their grief and begin to feel the fullness of their loss other emotions emerge and begin to dominate.

Job sat in silence with his friends and then let our a heart-wrenching lament where he wished he had never been born and recognizes that what he had feared most had actually happened to him! He confessed that he felt hopeless.

The friends were stunned. Where was that “blessed be the name of the Lord” Job they knew? They told him shut up until he was willing to repent.

Job, however, could not remain silent. He had to speak.  He had to speak out his anguish, his bitterness.  He complained about the unfairness, the injustice, the meaninglessness of it all.  He assaulted God with words and felt God’s hostility in his very bones.

Job was embittered. God had wronged him. He had treated him unfairly. He thought God was his friend, but he turned out to be an enemy. He felt betrayed.

Job resented God. He resented his fate.  He resented how the children of the wicked dance about their tents while his are gone.  He resented how the wicked prosper and go to the grave in ease while he lives in a garbage dump.  He resented that his relatives and friends, who once sucked up to him, now avoid him.

He resented everything, and Yahweh was responsible!

But….then something happened….

To Comfort

I melt before you and am consoled over my dust and ashes.

They comforted and consoled him over all the trouble that Yahweh had brought upon him.

Job 42:6, 11b

Or, I should say, someone happened.  God showed up. He came near. He spoke.  God did not abandon Job; he did not beat him up or slay him. He spoke with him; he reminded him. He cared for him.

And Job let go….he let go of the resentment. He forgave God; Job released God from Job’s own human, fallible and self-consumed judgment.

Job 42:6 is probably the worst translated text in all the Bible. Most translations make it look like that Job recanted his earlier complaints, or that he repented of his sinful words, or that he now did penance for his sins.  But that makes the friends right, and clearly the friends are wrong! God sides with Job, not the friends.

I prefer my translation.  (I know you are probably surprised by that!) 

Job melts before God; he humbles himself.  He lets go.  He does not regret the laments or the words. He lets go of the bitterness, resentment and anger.

“Repent”–not at all!  Rather, the Hebrew word is the same word translated five verses later (v.11b) as “consoled,” and was used earlier in Job 2:11 describing what how the friends intended to help Job, and how they failed as “miserable comforters” in Job 16:1.  Just as Job is consoled by his family and friends over the trouble the Lord had brought on him in 42:11, he was first consoled over the dust and ashes of his life by his encounter with Yahweh (42:6). Having let go, he experiences a comfort in the midst of his mourning and grief, his dust and ashes.

The divine-human encounter, when God whisphered grace in his ear,  enabled Job to let go. Divine presence comforts like nothing else can.

Comfort came to Job when he let go of the bitterness, the resentment; when he let go of his presumed right to judge God. Job was comforted when he forgave God by accepting Yahweh’s sovereignty and trusting his purposes.

More to come…..

Arminianism on the Righteousness of Saving Faith

Recently a researcher in Europe asked for a copy of my article The Righteousness of Saving Faith: Arminian Versus Remonstrant Grace (published in Evangelical Journal in 1991) to assist his investigation of Arminianism. It gave me the opportunity to dig it up and put it on my website.  The article is based on my Ph.D. dissertation The Theology of Grace in Jacobus Arminius and Philip van Limborch: A Study in Seventeenth Century Dutch Arminianism completed at Westminster Theological Seminary in 1985. I have not yet put my dissertation online (perhaps soon).

The article argues for a distinction between Arminianism and Remonstrantism. In other words, there is a difference between Arminius and what often passes for “Arminianism” in contemporary discussions. Roger Olson’s recent Arminian Theology: Myths and Realities (who makes significant use of my dissertation) seeks to help us make this distinction.  Classic or Historic Arminianism is much closer to Reformed theology than many of its contemporary expressions, including what we find in the Stone-Campbell Movement.

What I think is significant for the Stone-Campbell Movement in this discussion is that historically there have been at least two understandings of grace within the movement.  If we focus the discussion of grace on the “righteousness of saving faith,” the difference between Classic Arminianism and Remonstrantism rears its head within the Stone-Campbell Movement as well.

My published work on K. C. Moser illustrates this disagreement within Churches of Christ.  What I have called the “Tennessee Tradition” (e.g., R. C. Bell) pursues an Arminian understanding of grace and the nature of saving righteouenss.  What I have called the “Texas Tradition” (e.g., Guy N. Woods) practically reproduces the Remonstrant understanding of grace. (For those interested in the broader Texas/Tennessee contrasts, see Kingdom Come by Bobby Valentine and myself).

The critical difference is something like this.  Classic Arminianism affirms that the righteousness of saving faith is external to faith itself, that is, the righteousness that saves is from God and is a gift to us. Classically, this righteousness is the work of Christ imputed to us. Remonstrantism affirms that the righteousness of saving faith is inherent within faith itself, that is, our faith is a righteousness which God counts as obedient righteousness. Classically, Remonstrantism denies the imputation of Christ’s righteousness and affirms that our obedience is a cause of our own righteousness.  Those who grew up in Churches of Christ in the mid-20th century may have heard this as:  God has done his part (2 points) and now we add our part (2 points) so now we have salvation (4 points), that is, 2 + 2 = 4. Significantly, the “part” we play is, in fact, a contribution of righteousness through obedience by which we measure up to the “plan” that God has graciously enacted to save us.  In effect, our own righteousness saves us by our obedience, but it is viewed as “grace” because the plan is God’s gift.  God gives the plan (his 2 points), and we work the plan (our 2 points), and the result is we are saved (4 points). In effect, we save oursleves by our own righteousness–which is what Calvinists have always accused Arminians of believing.  But it is true of Remonstrants and others, but not of Arminius and Classic Arminianism.

I don’t intend to argue this here, but submit the publications on my website for your reading as you have interest.  The details of the argument are provided there.

Forgiving God: A Testimony

Last Saturday evening Jennifer and I attended a 5th-8th talent show at the Lipscomb Campus School.  It was almost three hours long, but had several excellent performances.  However, it was long.

About thirty minutes into the program, I began to feel uncomfortable.  Something was gnawing at me. My insides were pushing me to run, to get out of the building, to find a way to excuse myself.  Something was telling me that if I could just go home I could regain my serenity.  And, a year ago, that is probably what I would have done, but the serenity would have been an illusion, an escape.

This night, however, I turned inward.  The problem was not the program but something going on inside of me. As the program proceeded, I began to meditate, calm myself and pray.  I wanted to know what was really going on with me.  The kids were doing their best, and they weren’t so bad that I needed to escape.  There was something else from which I wanted to escape.  I needed to sit in my feelings, discern what was happening, and feel my way through the mess that is my soul.

As I meditated, I became aware that I was envious.  I did not envy the children, but the parents. I noticed that I was agitated by the joy of the parents and the wonder of their eyes. I was particularly annoyed by how much the parents and family members behind me were enjoying their star’s performance.

Envy.  Not envious of talent, money, power, job, but envious that these parents were blessed by God to watch their children perform. I was never able to do that with Joshua. When he was the age of these children, he was in a wheelchair, could barely walk, and spent most of his time unaware of his surroundings. From eight to sixteen my family watched Joshua slowly die. I never saw Joshua play a team sport, never saw him perform on a stage, never saw him read a poem–or read at all!  I envied the parents and begrudged their joy, and–in my harsh and unkind judgment–wondered whether they truly appreciated their blessing.

But that was not the root. Resentment was the root of my feeling that night; that was my discomfort–my rationale for escape. I wanted to run away so I would not have to think about my pain, Joshua’s illness and death. I did not want to acknowledge my resentment. I would rather not think about it or feel it. It is easier to simply escape.

I did not resent the parents. I resented God. He blessed these children, but not Joshua. He gave these gifts to these parents, but I was never able to enjoy that gift with Joshua. I had missed out and there was no one to blame except God. Is he not reponsible for his world? Did we not pray that we would have a healthy son? Why did he say, “No, he won’t be healthy”? I resent that answer and sometimes I’m not sure that I can put up with a God like that.

Even as I write these words I know that I received many gifts from Joshua and they were divine blessings.  Even as I think again about his broken body, I still remember his smile, his laugh and the joy of just sitting with him in my big chair watching one of his favorite movies (The Wizard of Oz).  I realize I was blessed, but Saturday evening I resented that God had not blessed me more richly–that he had not blessed me like those parents in that auditorium that night.

As I meditated on that resentment, I noted my feelings.  Irritation. Frustration. Anger. Envy. Jealousy. Resentment.  And I took them to God. I told him how I felt. I let it out so I could let it go, so I could release it into God’s hands. I needed to be heard…by God!  And in being heard, I could let go…at least for that night. In that moment I could forgive God.

In letting go, I could remember the blessings I did receive through Joshua. I could treasure those and hold them in my heart, and thank God for them. I could value the experiences–the learning and growth experienced in the process. I could even see God in many of those painful moments–God present to comfort  in my laments, God present through people who served my family, God present in laughter as well as tears.

That night–at least for that night–I forgave God. In releasing my resentment, I was given some peace and joy. Bit by bit, day by day, little by little, the comfort is renewed and joy returns. 

Thanks be to God for his patience with me. Even when I bitterly resent him, he loves me, he graciously receives my forgiveness (when he, of course, does not need it!), and he is not frustrated with me when the resentment returns on a cold Saturday night in December seven and a half years after Joshua’s death. 

Thank you, Yahweh.  Truly your lovingkindness endures for ever.

 

 Postscript:  Here is the contemplative, meditative process I used Saturday evening to journey toward forgiving  God. I find myself returning to it daily.

1. Find a quiet, private place where you can sit in uninterrupted silence.  I center myself through a breath prayer.  I concentrate on my breath–inhaling and exhaling.  I offer a breath prayer to still myself, soothe myself and given space for the Spirit of God to calm my soul.  I follow the breath through my body and permit the whole of my being to focus. I usually use a breath prayer like “Jesus Christ, Son of God” as I breath in and “have mercy on me, a sinner” as I breath out. (This is the traditional “Jesus Prayer”).
2. I recall the moment of pain, sit in the hurt, and feel the pain. What do I feel? What emotions emerge as primary. I name them and describe them.
3. I contemplate God in relation to this pain. When I think about God in this context, do I feel anger, frustration, fear, love, gratitutde? What negative emotions do I feel? Do I feel any irritation, anger or bitterness as I think about this pain and unanswered prayers? Do I feel rejection, hurt or anger when I remember the pain and ponder why God permitted that?
4. I then bring those feelings into the presence of God and tell God how I am feeling. We all have the need to be heard, and we need for God to hear how we feel. I speak it audibly when I can (and sometimes I wonder if anybody is listening).
5. I then tell God that I want to release the negative emotions associated with this memory and that I need his help to release them. I am powerless over my feelings. I cannot help but feel what I feel. At the same time I process those feelings in the presence of God and by the power of his Spirit.
6. I then reflect on where God was in that past moment of pain. Can I point to people, events, feelings, or circumstances that signal a God-presence? Where did God show up in that pain? I may not have recognized it at the time, but as I reflect, sit in the presence of God with this pain, and broaden my vision of the event perhaps I can see God where I had not previously seen him.
7. I then reflect on the meaning of that pain. What did I learn through the experience? What lessons surface in the reflection? What endures as meaningful and significant for me? How has it shaped me and changed me? How has it affected my vision of God?
8. I then remember who God is, how he has loved me in the past, how he loves me even now in the present. Remember his sovereignty, his creative intent, his redemptive work. I seek God’s face through the eyes of Jesus and embrace his love. I recall the story and meditate on God’s works. I see the face of Jesus, remember his loving kindness toward people. I remember the story of the widow’s son–he raised him from the dead. I permit the compassion and love of God to flow into my mind, heart and gut.
9. God, I forgive you because I am not God.  There is only one God and I am not him. I don’t know what you know; you are greater than I. You must have your reasons. I trust you because I see you in Jesus.  I humble myself before you and release my anger, bitterness and resentment toward you.  You are my God, and I forgive you, and, I pray, you will forgive me because even in forgiving you I don’t know what I am doing.

Forgiving God: Processing the Movements of the Soul

Forgiving God is a controversial topic among many believers, especially Christians. Jewish believers, however, have a long history of talking about “forgiving God,” and it is present in the classic story of Job as my last post suggested. In the aftermath of the Holocaust, for example, one of the most significant questions in Jewish theology is whether believers can forgive God for the death of millions and the seeming failure of his promises.

A familiar Jewish tale relates the story of a rabbi who encountered a tailor as he left the synagogue. The rabbi asked the tailor what he had been doing. The tailor responded that he had been praying about forgiveness. It is good, the Rabbi replied, to pray for forgiveness and then asked the tailor what sins he had confessed. He confessed his “little sins.” The Rabbi, a bit concerned, asked what he meant. He had confessed the sin of cheating his customers in a few minor ways. But, the tailor continued, he also forgave God of his “big sins.” After all, the tailor theorized, his sins were little compared with God–while he cost his customers a few coins and some cloth, God oversaw a world where children die. So, the tailor concluded, he made a deal with God. If God would forgive him of his “little sins,” he would forgive God of his “big” ones.

No doubt this offends some sensibilities. I was offended the first time I read about “forgiving God” in Rabbi Kushner’s When Bad Things Happen to Good People. But the idea has grown on me through the experience of life, the depth of hurt, the lament tradition in Scripture, and a resentment towards God that ebbed and flowed with the pains of life.

Forgiving God does not, in my mind, refer to forgiving God of his sins. Rather, it refers to letting go what is hidden in my heart against God. Let me explain….

When tragedy overwhelms us, it fills our life with hurt and pain. Reality hits us in the face. The pain is unavoidable; the hurt is deep. And our thoughts as believers naturally and appropriately turn to God.

Some turn to God in praise and thanksgiving. Perhaps through the experience of life and their walk of faith they have learned to “give thanks in everything.” Perhaps it is a conditioned first resposnse.

Others, however, turn to God in anger and lament. They are disappointed with God. Like Job, they believe (or at least it sure appears) that God has wronged them. They are frustrated with God’s hidden purposes; they are irritated by the seemingly meaningless pain. It depresses some and creates anxiety in everyone.

There is, of course, nothing wrong with anger and lament. It is modeled in Scripture. The wisdom story of Job is a dramatic lament. Half of the Psalm-worship of Israel was lament, and much of it filled with depression, anger and confusion. Even the martyred saints around the throne of God and the Lamb question with the classic lament question, “How long? How long?” (Rev 6).

Thus, while some respond with praise and others with lament, both are appropriate and understandable. Indeed, most of those, if not all, who respond with praise also learn to lament as a healthy way of grieving. Saints often move from praise to lament and ultimately (it is hoped) back to praise.

However, the return to praise is not an easy road to travel. It is filled with potholes and stalked by robbers. Some, including myself, turn to bitterness rather than back to praise for seasons of time. In this bitterness we dwell in our resentment. We project onto God all the inner demons of our own souls. We blame God for all the hurt and pain in our lives. We envy those who have it better; we resent the God who would permit our pain. We doubt, question and wonder why.

Stuck in bitterness, some ultimately reject God. They move from faith to doubt to unbelief. They rebel against and curse the God they once trusted. I believe this move from bitterness to unbelief is ultimately driven by our own inner woundedness, perhaps our own unresolved anger and alienation. When we project our “stuff” (whether it is parental abandonment or whatever it might be) onto God, then we make a God in the image of our woundedness or even equate God with our woundedness. And who wants that kind of God? It is better to live without that God than to live with him.

Forgiving God is my language for that process that moves us from bitterness back to praise. Perhaps “forgiving God” is not the best language to use–it is subject to misunderstanding. But “forgiveness,” at its heart, is release. To forgive God is to let go of the resentment, to let go of God’s throat and our demand that he treat us as we think we deserve (which, btw, is a dangerous thing to demand of God–do we really want what we deserve?!).

Acceptance is a key issue. To accept our reality, that is, to live life on its own terms, to take life as it comes, is necessary for comfort and peace in the midst of tragic circumstances. This acceptance is generated by trusting God.

Trusting God arises out of comtemplating his greatness–he is God, not me. It arises out of contemplating his sovereignty–he is in control, not me. It arises out of contemplating his wisdom–he knows better than I. But, most importantly, this trust arises out of contemplating his faithful love–I am beloved by God. I will not trust a God who does not love me, but convinced that God loves me more than I love myself I will trust that God. And this is the God of Jesus–the God who gave himself for our sakes.

When I trust God, I can forgive him. When I trust God, I can accept my reality. I can let go of control and power. I can let go of my pride that believes that I could run the world much better than him. I can let go of judgment and accept the truth of my circumstances….but my acceptance is contingent upon trusting God’s love for me and his sovereign purposes. And trust is learned–knowing the story, living the story, and experiencing the story through God’s people.

This trusting acceptance is forgiveness–it releases us from our own resentments, bitterness and self-inflicted wounds. Forgiveness then empowers us to praise God once again, and through praise we experience transformation.

This has been my experience. When hurt and pained, I lament (sometimes with anger). My lament can easily turn to bitterness and resentment. But recalling the story, seeking the face of God, and trusting his love for me, I accept (to one degree or another) my lot and release the resentment. Forgiving God, I learn again to praise him.

Only recently have I realized that this is a constant cycle in my life. Something triggers me (e.g., envy of other parents who watch their sons play football when I never had that opportunity with Joshua) and the cycle begins again. But, I trust and hope, it is a spiral toward transformation rather than a degenerative plunge into unbelief.

But the move from bitterness and resentment to forgiveness has never been an easy one, and only recently have I discerned what is for me a healthy, helpful and hopeful contemplative process for letting go, forgiving and once again praising God. I will share that process in my next post.

More to come…..

For visual learners (like me), this chart illustrates this post. I used it this past Sunday as I taught this post at Woodmont Hills in Nashville, TN. I kinda like it myself. At least, it is true in my own experience.

Christmas–The Incarnation of God

The annual season we know as Christmas is a time when most people remember the stories of Jesus’ birth. The media is full of movies, articles and advertisements, which remind us of those stories. There are good stories — Joseph & Mary, Bethlehem, “no room at the inn” which is traditionally badly interpreted as inhospitality (but that is for another time), the manger, the shepherds, Herod the Great, the wise men, and the celebration by angels. They are stories we need to tell our children and on which we can reflect with our neighbors and colleagues, especially at this time of the year.

However, the real story of the birth of Jesus, the story, which both Matthew and Luke emphasize, is that the birth of Jesus is the incarnation of God. It is the appearance of God himself in the flesh. It is this event which we celebrate weekly and this person whom we worship daily. The real story of the wise men, for example, is not that they visited Jesus, but that they worshipped him and gave him gifts — an example we seek to imitate.

The incarnation, God coming as one of us in the flesh, is at the heart of Christianity and one of its central themes. This is the story we need to tell — that God humbled himself to become one of us….the humility of God….the love of God.

He became one of us to be present within his creation as a creature and unite himself to his creation. His union with creation through the flesh, through becoming a human being, sanctifies creation, redeems it, and communes with it. Becoming flesh, living in his own skin, and being raised in a glorified but yet still human body bears witness to God’s intent to live in relationship with creation itself rather than simply relating to “spiritual” ghosts floating through the “spiritual” clouds. The incarnation is God’s testimony that–and means by which–God intends to unite himself with the creation.

He became one of us in order to reveal God to us. The life of Jesus tells the story of how God would act if he were a human being. In Jesus we have a concrete example of who God is, how he behaves, and how he relates to people. We see God when we see Jesus. He embodies God so that we may know who God is. Jesus is the truth, God in the flesh. He is the life and the way; he is God available to the eyes, ears and touch. We know our God because we know Jesus.

He became one of us in order to experience and sympathize with our suffering. God in himself does not know what it is like to be thirsty, hungry or to experience physical pain. God in Jesus, however, experienced all of these human frailties. Now God knows what it is like to be a human being. He is the empathetic and sympathetic God through Jesus. He shares our pain and temptations, sits on the mourner’s bench with us, and dies with us (as well as for us). God knows humiliation through Jesus;  God knows the experience of fallenness. Our God fully knows us–cognitively but also existentially and experientially.

He became one of us in order to redeem us through the sacrifice of his own life. As the God-Human, Jesus is the mediator between God and Humanity. It his human life that he offered as an atonement for our sins, but he did so not as an act of human blood sacrifice but as an act of divine self-substitution. God became human so that God might engage the powers of evil and defeat them.  God became human so that God might bear sin, take it up into his own life and resolve the cosmic problem of mercy and justice–however that is resolved. God became human that we might have a representative at the right hand of the Father who is one of us. 

At this Christmas season, remember the real story of Jesus’ birth. It is not found in the moralistic (though profitable) stories of Rudolf, the Little Drummer Boy, or the movie “Miracle on 34th Street”. The real story is that God became one of us so that we might become one with God. That is the story we need to proclaim year-round and celebrate daily. It is, truly, the gospel story rather than simply a Christmas story.

A touching video entitled “Emmanuel – God is with us” is available at Benji Kelly’s website that is worth a meditation or two.

Before Praying….

Last Wednesday evening I was reminded by Terry Smith of a wonderful summary of worship from William Temple, Archbishop of Cantebury (1942-1944). It was Temple’s vision of how liturgical community can help spiritually form a person. Terry first heard it from E. H. Ijams who, at the time, was an elder at the Highland Church of Christ in Memphis, Tennessee. In 1971, at a college retreat, Ijams suggested it as a meditation before prayer and Terry has practiced it in his life.

Since last Wednesday I have practiced this several times.  I take about five to ten minutes in silent meditation letting my mind move through these five themes before I pray.  I have found it wonderfully liberating and focusing as the method awakens me to God’s presence.  It is a way for me to center myself, exclude distracting thoughts and focus on the presence of God. Below is simply one brief meditation of the sort of thing my mind does as I seek to center and focus before I pray with this method.  (And, of course, there are many other methods; this is not the only nor necessarily the best one…but it is one.)

 1.  Quicken your conscience with the holiness of God.

Recalling Isaiah 6, I bring my conscience into the presence of God surrounded by his angels who are crying “Holy, Holy, Holy.” My conscience accuses me, the Accuser points his finger at me, and the whole of creation stands ready to condemn me. Just as I am confessing “Woe is me; I am a man of unclean lips,” the Father sends one of his angels with a burning coal from the altar toward me. I am frightened. This is judgment. This is payback. The vengeance of God is breaking out against me just as it did Uzzah. But, hallelujah surprise, the coal is not judgment but forgiveness; it is from the altar…it is atonement….it is a cleansing. My conscience is purged by the grace of God and awakened to the holy love of God. I bow before my creator’s mercy as God himself by his own presence awakens my conscience, cleanses it, and quickens it to sense, feel and know divine holiness.

2.  Feed your mind with the truth of God.

My mind will think and my gut will feel whatever it is I feed it. I must offer my mind the truth of God so that I might contemplate the reality of God in the world. Jesus is the truth of God. I read the Gospels; I expose myself to the ministry, heart and life of Jesus. For meditation, I recall one of the stories from the Gospels to feed my mind with God’s truth. I remember the Lepers–10 of them–whom Jesus healed, but only one returned to thank Jesus whose mercy was not limited by their disease, religion, race or ingratitude. The one who returned was a Samaritan. Am I grateful? Is my mercy limited? Am I like Jesus? I feed my mind with the truth of God, Jesus.

3.  Purge your imagination with the beauty of God.

Scripture offers pictures for our imagination and not simply propositions for our cognition. The beauty of God is perceived not only in wondrous literary chiasms but also in poetic and apocalyptic imagery that fires the imagination. Art takes us places where propositions cannot.  Art, whether fiction, movies, dramas, paintings, mosaics, draws out our emotions where propositions may only engage the intellect. The picture of Revelation 4-5, with thousands and thousands of angels surrounding the Father’s throne, engages our soul, our gut. When the elders cast their crowns before the throne, when the four living creatures bow, when the whole of creation resounds with praise, when thousands of angels sing, the earth shakes and the heavens open to receive the glory of the newly crowned King, Jesus. God’s own throneroom and the meaningfulness of that moment reflect the beauty of God. My imagination embraces that beauty. (Or, it could be the beauty of God’s creation itself!)

4.  Open your heart to the love of God.

Love me? Even with all my stuff. Can God truly delight in me? “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love” (John 15:9). Jesus loves me just like the Father loves Jesus. I must bring my heart–with all its conflicting emotions–into the presence of the Father who loves Jesus.  Their love surrounds me; their love penetrates me.  They love me as they love each other, and they invite me to experience their love.  I sit in the presence of God, and I imagine the Father, Son and Spirit sitting with me.  Their smiles, their touch, their interaction all bespeak a true delight to be in my presence. God loves me, even me. They welcome this moment when I answer their knock at the door and invite them to commune with me.

5.  Devote your will to the purposes of God.

What do you want, O God? What do you desire? It is not burnt offerings; it is not more books; it is not “good deeds.” I want to allign my will with yours.  Like Isaiah, and like the Psalmist (40:7), I declare “Here I am”….I am here to do you will, O God.  “I delight to do your will.” Father, center my will in yours; focus my desires on what you desire because I know you desire only what is good for me and for your creation. Your desire is for me, and my desire is for you. May I, Father, devote myself to your purposes in the world. May I, Father, embrace your mission for your creation, join you in your work, and embody your will in my life. This, Father, is my desire.

Before praying this past week, I have taken five or so minutes of meditative silence to run my mind through each of these points.  Dwelling on the holiness, truth, beauty, love and purposes of God prepares my mind to pray and then to silently listen.  It removes distractions from my mind and focuses me on communing with God with whom I then converse and listen for his response. 

It has been a helpful discipline for me.  I commend it.

“United, Yet Divided”: Understandable and Unavoidable

The article below, by the hand of J. N. Armstrong, first appeared in The Way entitled “United, Yet Divided” [4 (14 August 1902) 156-158]. 

 

Contextually, several factors are involved.  First, the Firm Foundation out of Austin, Texas–under the editorship of Austin McGary–was pushing a sectarian agenda which demanded unity on many fronts as a prerequiste for fellowship (e.g., rebaptism of those received from the Baptists [ or other immersed persons] by “right hand of fellowship” who had been immersed without understanding that baptism was for the remission of sins). This group, which Bobby Valentine and I have called the Texas Tradition, generally opposed Armstrong and the Nashville Bible School. 

 

Second, the Octographic Review out of Indianapolis, Indiana–under the editorship of Daniel Sommer–had initiated an assault on institutionalism (e.g., Bible Colleges) among southern Churches of Christ. This group opposed the sectarianism of the Texans as well as the institutionalism of the Tennesseans. In the first decade of the 20th century Sommer was pushing for separation from both.

 

Third, David Lipscomb (editor of the Gospel Advocate) and James A. Harding (editor of The Way) among others had pursued a rigorous discussion of whether “laying on of hands” in the appointment of elders, deacons and evangelists was a prerequisite as well as the “right hand of fellowship” practice among the churches, that is, a formal corporate reception of a person into the fellowship of a local body by shaking hands.  [My subsequent post will define what these controversies were more precisely.] The spirited nature of the discussion concerned many and some believed it threatened a division within the southern Churches of Christ who generally aligned themselves with the Nashville Bible School (now Lipscomb University).

 

Armstrong’s article is an appeal to think about and practice unity in diversity–”United, Yet Divided.”  In other words, there are commitments that unite believers that transcend some of their disagreements, including division over the ”right hand of fellowship” among other things (e.g., Bible Colleges, rebaptism, etc.). Armstrong wanted discussion to continue even if there is disagreement because this is how truth is pursued. The article reflects the general attitude toward brotherly engagement over disagreements that characterized the Nashville Bible School tradition.

 

From 1897-1907 the Tennessee Tradition, through the Gospel Advocate, The Way, and then Christian Leader & the Way as well as a growing number of Bible Colleges, was the most substantial influence among Churches of Christ. The tradition encouraged irenic discussion among Churches of Christ without division. W. J. Brown of Cloverdale, Indiana, for example, noted that the “tone and spirit” of the GA and The Way were different from other papers whose “lordly editors” subverted the unity of the brotherhood (“Let This Mind Be in You,” The Way 3 [13 June 1901] 88). Free discussion among those who disagree lies behind the title of Armstrong’s article “United, Yet Divided.”

 

Why is division understandable and unavoidable? Because all believers are in a process of sanctification–progressive sanctification, though not all believers always progress and neither do believers progress alike.  Just as believers continue to sin despite growth in holiness, they will continue to hold erroneous ideas despite their devotion to Bible study and desire to “get it right.” Perfect union is an eschatological goal; it awaits the return of Jesus. At the same time, believers seek to progress toward unity though diversity will remain as long as there are multiple levels of maturity among believers.  The church upon the earth is permanently “united but divided.”

 

Here is Armstrong’s article:

  

            Failure to recognize and appreciate man’s imperfections and the different degrees of development in the church is sometimes a discouragement and even an occasion of stumbling to some.

 

            The union required in the church is perfect. Jesus measures it by the union existing between himself and God. “Neither for these only do I pray, but for them also that believe on me through their word; that they may all be one; even as though, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be in us: that the world may believe that thou didst send me. And the glory which thou has given me I have given unto them: that they may be one, even as we are one” (John 17:20-22, R. V.).

“Now I beseech you, brethren, through the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye all speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you; but that ye be perfected together in the same mind and in the same judgment” (I Cor. 1:10, R. V.).

 

This all means that a perfect union is required by the New Testament; and the loyal church will seek for it. Jesus and the Father always agreed. They always held to the same doctrine. Both of them knew all the truth and held it unmixed with error. Therefore they are thoroughly one.

 

Just as the model life, Christ’s life, is spotless and perfect, so the standard of union is perfect.

 

I suppose no one ever met a man who came up to the perfect life of Christ in his conduct. Neither did [157] any one ever see, read or hear of a church so perfectly one as Christ and the Father. Before such a church could be, every member must be perfect in knowledge and must hold the truth without error; or all must hold the same truth and the same error; and they must develop alike every day or the union will be destroyed.

 

These are impossibilities, for there are babes, boys and girls, men and women, in Christ, hence the different degrees of development and the varied imperfections that must necessarily exist in every church. Then it is expecting too much to expect perfection in union among such imperfections and developments. Individual growth must continue. Each individual conscience must be respected and left free. On the fundamental principles of Christ the church does agree, and has always agreed. Whenever a man takes Jesus as Lord we are to bear with him in his weakness and wait for him to grow, regardless of his errors and false doctrines. The church at Corinth had members who believed there were other gods than the true God. (See 1 Cor. 8.)

 

            Sometimes two brethren begin to discuss some question through the papers, and Christians raise their hands in holy horror because these brethren differ. Some one says: “I wish our brethren would not debate. It does no good. I am ashamed for the sects to know that ‘our’ brethren debate with each other. I used to give my Advocate and Way to my neighbor, but I have quit it. I don’t want him to know about all these quarrels and differences in ‘our’ church. The brethren ought to agree any way, and when they do disagree, they ought to keep it out of the papers.”

 

I am sorry that Christians think this way. Do you mean by this that you want to deceive the world? Do you want to make them believe that all the brethren who write for the different papers are perfectly agreed? This would be a deception, for no two of them agree in everything, and yet they so agree as to be able to fellowship one another as brethren of the Lord. Each one knows the others are in Christ all are loyal to Christ, and desire to know the truth and to do it. And yet they differ; for none of them hold all the truth, and none are free from error.

 

            I am glad for the world to know of these friendly and Christ-like discussions among the brethren. It shows, that we are not bound down to a man-made creed, but that every man is left to study the Bible for himself. We can never find Bible union “by agreeing to disagree,” by avoiding the discussion of practical and vital differences. Let us have a free and fair discussion of all these matters about which brethren differ whenever these differences involve principle and truth. “But foolish and ignorant questions refuse, knowing that they gender strifes” (2 Tim 2:23, R. V.).

 

            Let those who discuss be sure the questions are practical and profitable.

 

            Do not be discouraged, then, because two brethren may discuss some question about which they may differ. Neither should we let our personal preference for one or the other of these men influence us in reading after them. Let us remember they are only men, and either of them can be wrong. Neither should age influence us too much. Each article ought to go for just what it is worth in truth, regardless of the ability and age of the writers.

 

            Brethren often see bitterness in such discussions just because they are looking for it and expecting it. Many times they talk about bitterness when there is no bitterness.

 

            Repeatedly have I heard of the ‘bitterness’ manifested in the late discussion of ‘Laying on Hands’ between Bros. Lipscomb and Harding. I read every word written by these brethren in this discussion, and re-read much of it, and was much interested in it, and received light from it.  I am glad the discussion occurred. I thought there were a few expressions that were a little sarcastic, and would have been glad had they been left out. But I thought the discussion was a clean, pure, Christ-like discussion, and I believe so yet.

 

            “But,” says one, “how can we little fellows know about these things if such men as these disagree about them?” Many times little fellows find the truth about a matter when big fellows have skipped over it.  Then, too, this sounds like if they agreed about this matter that it would settle it. Whom are you following? It also seems that people are surprised that these men differ. Surely we ought not to expect too much of them, although they be great men. They are not perfect in knowledge, they are not equally developed, and neither one believes things just because the other one does; and how could they agree about everything? Yet both are loyal to Christ, and are so agreed that they can work together and their conscience be left free.

 

But while the above facts are true, it is also true that as every Christian is to strive to live as Christ lived, so every Christian is to seek for that perfect union demanded by the New Testament. Causing divisions contrary to the doctrine of Christ is one of the most grievous sins of the age, and God hates the man who causes these divisions.

 

The only way to bring about New Testament union is for every one to seek for truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. The more truth we obtain, the less error we will hold and the more nearly we can unite on everything. He who knowingly causes divisions and factions in the church contrary to the doctrine of God will be lost unless he [158] repents. Every Christian ought to feel as much as he can feel the obligation resting upon him to bring about union. The more he knows of Bible teaching, the more he can agree with other Bible students. My purpose in writing this is to help all to get a full benefit from discussions that occur in the papers. Study them; be interested in them; weigh every argument; watch for the “think so’s” and “maybe’s,” and don’t count them much; study carefully the Scriptures relied on by the different writers; see if the position occupied by the writer is held by the Holy Spirit; then study all the Scriptures that you can find bearing on the subject being discussed. This course will bring union, and bring it fast.

 

The only way for loyal, conscientious brethren who disagree to come together is to gain more light.

 

Christians Among the Sects? James A. Harding Answers

While in Montgomery Alabama for a summer meeting in 1902, James A. Harding answered several questions from the “Question Box” which was available to hearers there.  He answered a few of these through the pages of The Way (“Questions and Answers,” 4 [July 17, 1902] 121-123). One concerned the name “Christian Church” (which he opposed both as a name and as a denominational body), another concerned the differences between Baptist and Christian baptism, and another on the possibility of falling from grace.  The question and answer reproduced below was the most interesting and, given subsequent developments among Churches of Christ, the most surprising answer in that issue of the paper (p. 122).

“Mr. Harding, you say you believe there are people in all the denominational churches who will be saved. Please explain by the Bible how you extend hope to the individual who has accepted sprinkling for baptism.”

I extend no hope to him. Jesus said: “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.” Sprinkling is not baptism; it is a human substitute for a divine ordinance. It is not the word of God; it is a rejection of the word of God. God is not pleased with it; he abhors it just as he does every substitute of man’s way for God’s way. It is not from above; it is from below.

I suppose there are people among all the so-called “Christian denominations” who have believed in Christ with their whole hearts, who in deep penitence of soul have confessed his holy name, who have been buried with him in baptism and raised to walk in newness of life, who are diligently studying his holy law and who are daily striving to do his will. I say I suppose there are such folks in the denominations, because I have known numbers of such people to come out of them. It is not probable that they are all out yet; but if they remain faithful and diligent, God will be continually leading them out.

Wherever a man is, if he is daily, diligently seeking the truth, if he is promptly walking in it as he finds it, we may expect him to be saved. He will be daily dropping error, daily learning and doing more truth. But for the man who is contentedly abiding in error there is no such hope. Jesus says: “If ye abide in my word, then are ye truly my disciples; and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free” (John 8:31, 32). It is nowhere recorded that error makes men free.

We might ask Harding: “But what is faithful diligence that assures sanctification and gives comfort to the believer who has not yet come out of denominationalism?” His answer might be something similar to what he describes as the diligence that will preserve one from apostacy. Here is the last paragraph to his answer on falling from grace (p. 123).

It is more than probable that not more than one-half of those who truly become Christians will be faithful unto death, and so attain to the home of God. This thought ought to spur us up to great diligence in using the four great means of grace whaich God has given us, namely: (1) Diligent, daily study of the Word of God. (2) The fellowship, that is, the partnership with God and his saints. This consists in giving time, money or other needed things, sympathy, help to the poor, the sick, the distressed, and to the spread of the gospel, the building up of the church. (3) The attendance upon the meetings of the Lord’s house. Every Christian should count on attending every meeting of his congregation. Nor should he fail to do so except when he has a reason for not attending which he is sure God will freely accept as a good excuse. At this point I am sure a great multitude deceive themselves fearfully. They imagine they have good excuses for staying away, when those same excuses keep them from going nowhere they want to go. A few attend nearly every service. Nearly all could do it, if they would. (4) The prayers. The Christian should be diligent and regular in secret prayer. It is a good rule to pray regularly four times each day, morning, noon, evening and night, and at other times when occasion requires it. We should give all diligence to attending to these four great means of grace. They should be the most important things in life to us by far, inasmuch as they bring prosperity for this life, and eternal happiness in the world to come.

I explore some of Harding’s thinking on baptism and salvation in my “Gracious Separatist” article in the Restoration Quarterly. We might summarize his position something like this:

• He offers no explicit biblical hope to the unimmersed, but–in other places in his writing and debates–he leaves them to the “uncovenanted mercies” of God and refuses to say unimmersed seekers of God’s will will be damned. In fact, he cautions that  “we know too little of what God is doing in giving light and inducing them to work in it, to decide upon such matters” (“Does Ignorance Excuse Them?” Gospel Advocate 24 [30 November 1882] 758).
• He believes those who have been immersed out of a faith in Christ (even if they did not know if it was for the remission of sins or not, even if they thought they were saved before their immersion) and walk in the light as they see it will be saved even if they continued to be a  member of a particular denomination and did not separate from it.
• Walking in the light, or showing faithful diligence, entails using the “means of grace”: (1) reading the Bible for oneself; (2) giving oneself in ministry for the sake of the poor and the kingdom of God; (3) attending the meetings of the church; and (4) constant, daily prayer.

Given my heritage in Churches of Christ, Harding would not have been appreciated if he had expressed these viewpoints in regions of the church in which I grew up.  Indeed, he would have been thought a “false teacher”–and even now would be thought of as such. Heaven is much more inclusive and the kingdom of God much broader for Harding than for many others in 20th century Churches of Christ.

 

Postscript: Part of the backdrop for this broader vision of the kingdom is the whole theological orientation of the “Nashville Bible School” tradition which Bobby Valentine and I explore in our book Kingdom Come: Embracing the Spiritual Legacy of David Lipscomb and James Harding.

“I Will Change Your Name”

When you feel forsaken or rejected, 

when you feel like a failure or a piece of dirt,

when you feel inadequate or deficient,

when you feel unloved or unchosen,

hear the word of the Lord through Isaiah the prophet

Isaiah 62:2b,4,5b

…you will be called by a new name
       that the mouth of the LORD will bestow…

No longer will they call you Deserted,
       or name your land Desolate.
       But you will be called Hephzibah ["my delight is in her"], 
       and your land Beulah ["married"];
       for the LORD will take delight in you,
       and your land will be married.

…as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride,
       so will your God rejoice over you.

Isaiah’s message is for post-exilic Israel (Isaiah 56-66). The people had returned from Babylonian exile only to find themselves still oppressed, poor, and seemingly abandoned to their fate.  They lived under heavy Persian taxation and were harassed by regional provinces. Jerusalem’s walls were in ruins. Famine and poverty were rampant. The return did not meet expectations; it was not all that it was cracked up to be. Where was the glory of the restoration, the return to the land of promise? The promises of God had seemed to fail. Israel had been deserted and the land was desolate; Israel was rejected and ruined.  The people of God were losing hope.

Isaiah 56-59 outlined Judah’s sins, but Isaiah 60-62 proclaims a message of grace and salvation.  Isaiah 62:1-5 is the climax of that message.  God will not give up on Israel.  He has chosen Jerusalem; it is his city.  He will not relent. His love endures for ever.  He will change Jerusalem’s name, just as he did with Abram, Sarai and Jacob long ago.

Names Matter

God reveals his own character through his names.  Yahweh-Yireh is the Lord who Provides (Gen 22:14).  Yahweh-Shalom is the Lord of Wholeness (Judges 6:24). Yahweh-Mekedesh is the Lord who Sanctifies (Ezk 37:28). The name “Yahweh” means “the one who is” or “I am that I am.” The name of God matters as it defines him and our names matter too because they define us in many ways.

What others call us matter.  They matter because in our woundedness we assimiliate those names within oursleves. “Sticks and stones…but names will never hurt me” is a lie. When, as pre-adolescents, we were labeled “different” or “weird” some of us internalized a life-long stigma in our own minds. Such language and experiences shaped our core beliefs. When we were constantly picked last on the playground, we were named ”unchosen.”  When we were abandoned by a parent, we were named “unworthy.” When we were abused, we were named “worthless.”

What we call ourselves matters. If, at our cores, we call ourselves “worthless” or “pathetic,” it will shape how we relate to people. It will shape the nature of our marriages, our parenting, and our relationships. It will shape our churches. Indeed, self-righteousness within our congregations is often more a matter of maintaining our own self-image and ignoring the truth about ourselves than it is about the welcoming, forgiving holiness of God.

What God calls us truly matters.  And it matters more than our own inadequate and inaccurate views of ourselves. How we hear God–the seive through which we filter God’s word to us–often twists God’s naming.  Though intellectually we may hear God say “beloved,” if our core is filled with shame, hurt, pain and abandonment and if our image of God has been shaped by pictures of Zeus holding lightning bolts ready (even eagar!) to inflict retribution, what we hear is not “beloved” but “loathed.” Since we believe–at our core or gut–that we are not worth loving, we cannot believe that God could actually love us in the midst of our shame, abandonment, and sin.

My Names

Only recently have I recognized with any depth the significance of other’s names for us and our names for ourselves.  In recent months I have discovered that at my core–in my own self-image–I had lived with some names that have negatively impacted me. Whether self-generated, or imposed by others, or impressed upon me by circumstances, these names nearly destroyed me earlier this year.  Here are a few of my “old” names for myself.

Forsaken.   I felt this intensely when Sheila died in 1980 after only two years and eleven months of marriage. I felt it again when Joshua was diagnosed with a terminal genetic defect and then died at the age of sixteen in 2001.  Why, God, have you forsaken me? Will you forsake me forever? Why are you picking on me? Is there something wrong with me that you rip my joy from me and every day fill my heart with sorrow?

Failure.  I have felt this most deeply since  my divorce. I failed at the most important relationship in my life. During that trauma I was disillusioned, confused, and deeply hurt. I now own much more of the causes of that divorce than I did in 2001, but  this only increases my sense of failure. The name, seemingly, only gets more apporpriate with time.

Deficient.  One of my early core beliefs is “I am not enough.” Consequently, emotionally I have sought approval and the most effective mode which I found was through work.  Approval-seeking became an addiction. I am a workaholic.  I stuffed myself with addictive behavior in order to feel good about myself, to gain approval, and connect with others.  But ultimately it was an empty feeling. Whatever approval I received was never enough; I always needed more and was envious when others received acclaim.  And I needed more because at my core–somehow, someway–I had been named ”Deficient.”

What is your name? How have you been named? What have you felt in your gut and believed at your core that has shaped how you see youself, others and God?

I am only beginning to understand the names I have worn.  But I know there is something better.  God himself has named me. Those are the names I want to internalize; I want to see myself and others through the lens of God’s naming.

God Changed My Name

Israel and I have chewed some of the same dirt.  Forsaken…Rejected…Desolate. Indeed, we have all worn these names in one form or another.  But there is good news–there is gospel.  God changes names and only he can truly do so. To try to change my own name is an illusion, futile and another attempt to fill what is lacking by my own efforts. God must name me and, when he names me, he makes it true.

Isaiah provides a startling image for us which enables us to enter this story emotionally as well as intellectually.  Yahweh’s new name for Israel is “My delight is in her”–the one in whom he delights.  He loves her, enjoys being with her, and yearns for her presence. Yahweh’s name for Israel is “Married”–he unites himself with his people for the sake of intimacy; he wants to know his bride.  Yahweh rejoices over his people like a bridegroom rejoices over his bride–his joy surpasses a wedding celebration.

This is how God feels. This is the truth about his people.  “I will rejoice over you,” declares Yahweh. The king of the cosmos does not sit on his throne without emotional engagement with his creation.  Quite the contrary, God choses his bride, delights in her, dresses her in a bridal gown, and celebrates her with dancing and festivity.

This is how God feels about us.  Our past self-styled names are false names–they are no longer true if they ever were.  We have new names–names bestowed by God.  No longer are we ”Forsaken” but we are “Chosen.”  No longer are we “Failure” but we are “Married.”  No longer are we “Deficient” but we are “Blessed”!  Though he knows the depths of our hearts (which are not always pretty), he loves us just as he loves his own Son (John 17:23).

God’s word to each of us is “You are beloved; you are the one in whom I delight.”  He welcomes us, dresses us in festive robes, spreads a table of the best food and the finest wines, and spends the evening dancing with his bride. God wants us and he stands in applause as we wear the names he has given us….Chosen…Beloved…Married…Blessed.

The lyrics of D. J. Butler’s ”I Will Change Your Name” speak the essence of this text; hear them, believe them. It is the word of God through Isaiah to each of us.

I will change your name
You shall no longer be called
Wounded, outcast, lonely or afraid

I will change your name
Your new name shall be
Confidence, joyfulness, overcoming one
Faithfulness, friend of God
One who seeks My face.

**Sermon (audio here) delivered at Woodmont Hills Church of Christ on December 28, 2008**

Controversies over Hands–Forgotten Debates

David Lipscomb (1831-1917) and James A. Harding (1848-1922) belonged to the same theological orbit. They started the Nashville Bible School (now Lipscomb University) together in 1891. Harding, for a time, was an associate editor of the Gospel Advocate in the 1880s. They agreed on a host of theological issues, including opposition to rebaptism, renewed earth eschatology, special providence, pacifism, sole allegiance to the kingdom of God in opposition to allegiance to the nations, etc. Bobby Valentine and I have written about their spiritual legacy among Churches of Christ in Kingdom Come.

However, they did not agree on everything.  Harding, I believe, was more of a hardliner on ecclesial practices. His insistence on following the examples of the New Testament and the use of the command, example, and inference (CEI) hermeneutic was more strenuous than Lipscomb.  While Lipscomb opted for some flexibility here, Harding sought precision in every detail when it came to imitating the New Testament church.

Two of the most significant disagreements, which yield considerable discussion in the first decade of the 20th century, regarded the use of hands–the laying on of hands and the right hand of fellowship.  On both of these issues Harding insisted on following what he thought was the biblical pattern whereas Lipscomb failed to discern any precise or obligatory pattern on these questions.  Consequently, we have a good example of two prominent leaders among Churches of Christ from the same theological orbit addressing “church practices” in relation to the biblical pattern on the basis of the same hermeneutic but yet disagreeing.  They were “divided” but somehow remained “united,” as Armstrong’s article reproduced in my previous post trumpets.

Laying on of Hands

Lipscomb thought it unnecessary and without Scriptural authority, but Harding believed he was following the example of the apostles and their example should always be followed when it comes to ecclesial practices.

Harding believed that elders and evangelists should be appointed through a laying on of the hands, fasting and prayer.  This is the apostolic example of Acts 13:1-2 and Acts 14:23. Regarding these texts, Harding wrote:  “we learn that we are under solemn obligation to follow apostolic teaching and example, that in so doing we are following Christ. If we neglect to follow apostolic teaching and example, we neglect to follow Christ.”  It is, according to Harding, “scriptual and safe” when elders are appointed in this way (“A Reply to Bro. Elam on the Appointment of Elders,” Christian Leader & the Way 21 [9 April 1907] 8-9).

Lipscomb contended that there was no example of anyone appointed to an office by the laying of hands in the New Testament.  At one level, Lipscomb did not believe the evangelist or elder occupied an office, and at another level he did not believe there was any example of appointing persons to a task by the laying on of hands.  Since there is no biblical example or precept, there is no obligation. Indeed, it is “a practice without scriptural authority” (“Appointment and Laying on of Hands,” Christian Leader & the Way 20 [27 March 1906] 4).

Do we follow apostolic example or not? Is there an example? Is it binding? The Churches of Christ, in the first decade of the 20th century, were divided on these questions.  Jesse Sewell and James A. Harding on one side of the question and David Lipscomb along with E. A. Elam and others on the other side .  This, according to Harding, is a “very radical difference in judgment” between believers “who are on most points of doctrine in full accord” (“A Reply to Bro. Elam on the Appointment of Elders,” Christian Leader & the Way 21 [9 April 1907] 8). It needs to be settled so that there is no division.

Right Hand of Fellowship

Daniel Sommer–editor of the Octographic Review–thought it necessary, Lipscomb–editor of the Gospel Advocate– thought it good but optional, and Harding–editor of The Way– thought it should be prohibited.

In the late nineteenth century, the dominant practice–”nearly all, if not all, congregations of the disciples of Christ” (Harding, “What Does the Bible Teach on the Right Hands of Fellowship?” Christian Leader & the Way 20 [11 December 1906] 8)– of receiving another person from one congregation to another was by the corporate extenstion of the “right hand of fellowship.” This was a corporate, congregational act. The whole congregation lined up to extend their “right hand of fellowship” one by one to the new member as part of the assembly itself.  Sometimes, however, an elder acted for the whole congregation in receiving the new member.  Either way it was an ecclesial act in the assembly. The “right hand of fellowship,” then, brought that new member under the oversight of the eldership of that particular congregation. When this was extended to a Baptist who wanted to now join fellowship with a Church of Christ, those who opposed this union with a Baptist without rebaptism called this “shaking in the Baptists.”

Sommer believed that Acts 15, Galatians 2, and Acts 11 all involved the reception of members through the right hand of fellowship. He believed there was apostolic example.  Moreover, he believed that it was an “unavoidable conclusion” that members should be received through the “right hand of fellowship” into a local church so that the elders of that congregation might have disciplinary authority.  No congregation can exercise discipline unless there was some formal entrance into the local congregation itself. (See his articles “Concerning the Right Hands of Fellowship,” Octographic Review 45 [11 November 1902] 1, 8 and “Concerning Right Hands of Fellowship,” Octographic Review 47 [23 August 1904] 1, 8.)

Though he onced practiced the custom, when Harding was thirty-four he discovered it was not in the New Testament. From then on he regarded it as an innovation. If we cannot “read it in the very words of the New Testament” it should not appear in the assembly (“What Does the Bible Teach on the Right Hands of Fellowship?” Christian Leader & the Way 20 [11 December 1906] 8). Though it is often regarded as a “church ordinance” rivaling baptism and the Lord’s Supper, there is no authority in Scripture for this congregational act in the assembly.  Any fair look at the New Testament would discover that “the giving of the right hands of fellowship for the purpose of receiving baptized belivers into the fellowship of the congregation is without Scriptural authority” (“Brother Sommer’s Visit. No. II.,” The Way 5 [30 July 1903], 755). According to Harding, it is a “high crime against God, Christ and the Holy Spirit” to add an unauthorized practice to the assembly, and such additions will receive the judgment of God just like Uzzah.  We should, according to Harding, “give up this unapostolic, man-made ordinance, and abide in the teaching of Christ”…and we should “remember Uzzah” (“An Article Suggested by Brethren Cain, Hillyard and ‘A Well-Known’ Texas Preacher,” Christian Leader & the Way 21 [30 April 1907] 8).

Interestingly, on this question Harding was alligned with the majority of writers in the Firm Foundation (one notable exception is Jackson, McGary’s co-editor in the 1890s). For example, Price Billingsley (“‘Hand of Fellowship’ Again,” Firm Foundation 18 [14 April 1902] 2) writes that “we can not worship and honor God in doing something that he has not told us to do; and it must be that these things are done to please men; and if true it becomes mockery instead of true. worship.” It is an “unauthorized” practice since there is no command, example or inference for it as a corporate act in the assembly.

Another interesting dimension of this debate is that the precise difference between Sommer and Harding, according to Sommer, is that Harding extends the right hand of fellowship individually to new members after the formal closure of the assembly while Sommer does it in the assembly (“Concerning Right Hands of Fellowship,” Octographic Review 47 [23 August 1904] 1) and that Harding thinks it authorized for individuals as individuals but not for the corporate body.  Does that sound familiar to anyone?  I remember discussions about whether a College chorus (choir) was permissable as long as it was heard after the closing prayer of the assembly and noninstitutionalists stress the significant difference between individual and corporate acts. Harding argued something similar about the right hand of fellowship.  Somethings don’t change when we seek a pattern in the New Testament that does not exist. 

No Division

Churches of Christ did not divide over these issues.  Though Harding–as one among others–thought the questions were matters of compliance with apostolic example (laying on of hands) and the silence of Scripture(right hands), the movement as a whole did not divide.  (There were, however, a few congregations that did divide.) 

Lipscomb’s methods prevailed. Lipscomb regarded “right hands” as optional, and given the desire for unity, it was done after the closing prayer rather than in the assembly.  Elders were generally appointed without the laying on of hands and usually–if not practically always–without fasting.  By the 1950s it was a rare congregation that had a communal ceremony for receiving new members with the right hand of fellowship in the assembly and that appointed elders through fasting and the laying on of hands.Churches of Christ, in my experience and in my reading in the mid and late 20th century, were not convinced by Harding’s arguments but followed Lipscomb’s practice on both the right hand of fellowship and the appointment of elders. 

What we have in this story is an example how Churches of Christ negotiated their hermeneutic so that they did not divide over these questions even though the same principles and hermeneutic were utilized to separate from congregations that used musical instruments in their assemblies.

Perhaps “common sense” prevailed–as it has saved us from our hermeneutic at times in the past.  Perhaps instrumental music was such an embedded cultural concern (“worldliness”) that it transcended mere pattern arguments. (Remember one of the first articles against instrumental music in the Stone-Campbell Movement was also about dancing!)  I don’t know, but it is an interesting question to think about.

In our history, some things divide us but do not subvert the unity (“right hands” and “laying on of hands”).  Other things divide us and prevent unity (“instrumental music” and whether there should be more than one elder).  But both are pursued through the same hermeneutic with the same assumptions about assembly and ecclesial patterns. Some things create a division, others do not.

Go figure. 

P.S. I found this particular paragraph from Daniel Sommer quite interesting, and it is filled with questions about the ambiguity of the received hermeneutic–to what does it apply and to what does it not apply.  Sommer, “Concerning Right Hands of Fellowship,” Octographic Review 47 [23 August 1904] 1, 8.  See what you think.

     Another evidence that those who denounce a formal giving of the right hands of fellowship are technical is that they have never been, they are not, and never will be consistent.  They say, “There is no divine precept nor example for a formal giving of the right hands of fellowship, and therefore it should not be practiced.” But this is what may be called “one premise logic.” The major premise is suppressed. What is that major premise? It is this general proposition: Whatever practice is not authorized by divine precept or example should not be adopted, or, having been adopted, should be discontinued. Those who assume that such a proposition is true, will need to discontinue all formal exercises when they are going to preach to sinners, all formal invitations to sinners in the public congregation, all formal invitation songs in the congregation, all rising up to give thanks at the communion table, all formality in regard to attidute in time of prayer, all formal invitations to preachers to hold protracted meetings, and all formal acceptance of such invitations on the part of preachers, all formal keeping of church records, and all formal business meetings of the church. I could mention more, but this is enough.

Mercy, Not Sacrifice: Sabbath Controversy in Matthew 12

A ”God of technicalities”?

The first article I ever published in academia was “The Sabbath Controversy in Matthew: An Exegesis of Matthew 12:1-14″ which appeared in the Restoration Quarterly 27.2 (1984) 79-91. I have now uploaded this on my Academic page.

At some point in the future, I may reflect in personal terms on how that study subsequently impacted me. But that is for another time when I have more time. Perhaps I will make it part of a series about theological turning points in my life. 

However, I linked it today because it relates to my last post, especially the paragraph I quoted from Daniel Sommer at the end of that post. Sommer rebuked what he called a “technical” use of the hermeneutic of silence and authorization. No doubt many wondered whether Sommer himself was not guilty of similar technicalities on where he drew lines of fellowship. In other words, why is the use of instrumental music in a worshipping assembly a godly reason to limit fellowship but to break fellowship over the right hand of fellowship is a technicality? Especially, I might add, when we have technical definitions of when a worshipping assembly begins and ends (choirs–even instruments!–are permitted after the closing prayer but not before), whether a family worship in the home using the piano meets the definition of “worshipping assembly, etc.

Sommer’s language of technicality intrigued me.  That language sometimes pops up in the Stone-Campbell Movement. One recent example  is F. LaGard Smith’s argument that the God of Jesus is a “God of technicalities” (e.g., Naaman, Uzzah) in his Who is My Brother? Facing A Crisis of Identity and Fellowship (p. 252; also p. 127).

It seems to me that this is exactly where Matthew 12:1-14, including the quotation of Hosea 6:6, has something to teach us.  God is not interested in technicalities–he desires mercy rather than sacrifice.  Technically, David broke the law when he ate the “bread of presence” because he was hungry and in a hurry.  Technically, the priests profane the Sabbath every week when they offer sacrifices on the Sabbath.  But if we understand the heart of God, then we will not make these technicalities into fellowship barriers between God and humanity.

Jesus quotes Hosea 6:6 as a hermeneutical principle.  If the Pharisees had known the meaning of Hosea 6:6, they would have had the theological and hermenutical lens through which to consider the actions of others. If they had known the meaning of Hosea 6:6, they would not have condemned the disciples….and neither would we condemn David…and perhaps we might not condemn each other as well.

When we evaluate others based on the technicalities of ritual and precision obedience, we miss the heart of God. God is relational, not technical.  God is more interested in mercy than he is ritual.  God is more interested in relationship than he is perfectionistic precision. This is the declaration of Hosea 6:6, the application of Jesus, and Matthew expects his readers to embrace it as a principle for living in relationship with others (see also the use of “mercy” in 9:13 and 23:23).

This does not entail a rationale or an excuse for disobedience, but it should soften our heart with the mercy of God as we relate to others. After all, should we not treat others with the mercy with which God treats us? And, indeed, I need lots of mercy…mercy for my actions, my words, my ignorance…and much more!  I am grateful that God’s heart yearns for mercy more than sacrifice, for heart more than ritual, for relationality more than technicality.

The article I have posted–first written as a seminar paper for a course at Western Kentucky University in 1980–was one of my first steps toward seeing God’s heart instead of what I once thought was his technicalities.  Maybe it might help you…or maybe not.  

Facing Our Failures: A Review

Peter Abelard (1079-1142), who pioneered the scholastic method of theologizing, produced a volume entitled Sic et Non (or, “Yes and No”) for use in teaching through the dialectic method. It is a composition of quotes from earlier theologians and fathers on a variety of topics, but they are arranged oppositionally, that is, some theologians say “Yes” and others say “No.” He does suggest that some may be harmonized by understanding the semantic variation of key terms (thus the use of dialectics), but he does not attempt to harmonize them.

Todd Deaver–not to rank him with Abelard in the history of Christian thought (sorry, Todd)–has done something similar. He has given us the “Yes” and “No” to the questions of fellowship, boundaries and salvation among conservatives (traditionalists) with Churches of Christ in the past thirty years. His new, self-published book Facing Our Failures: The Fellowship Dilemma in Conservative Churches of Christ points out that the presupposition that “every practice considered to be unauthorized in the New Testament is grounds for breaking fellowship” is incoherently explained, inconsistently applied, and ambiguously stated among traditional Churches of Christ (p. 18).

It is ambiguous because many disagree about what is unauthorized and what is unauthorized (his list on pp. 52-56 is impressively documented; e.g., praying to Jesus in the assembly).  It is inconsistenly applied because fellowship still exists (or is claimed) between those who disagree about what is authorized and what is unauthorized (e.g., why is instrumental music in the assembly grounds for breaking fellowship when clapping during songs or singing during the Lord’s Supper is not?).  It is incoherent because the method by which this is discerned is unclear and inconsistent (e.g., what is the deciding factor or criterion? the assembly?).

Todd meticulously cites and details these problems.  Though the inconsistencies pointed out have been previously noted by others (there is a long history of this since the 1960s), what makes Todd’s book valuable is his thorough grounding of his argument in the writings of conservatives (traditionalists). We are able to see the problem unfold through the contrasting words of conservative writers themselves (thus, Sic et Non). And Todd does this without malice, sarcasm and with great appreciation for the faith and commitment of the traditionalists he cites.

Further, Todd does not simply contrast–unlike Abelard. Rather, he seeks to understand what is at the root of the contrary statements, explores possible harmonizations, and probes the inner logic of the conservative position. 

Todd concludes that the paradigm is the problem (chapter five:  “Our Paradigm is the Problem,” pp. 81-104).  If any doctrinal error (and if not any, then which ones, and how do we decide) excludes us from the fellowship of God as per the traditional interpretation of 2 John 9, and “persistence in any unauthorized practice warrants the breaking of fellowship,” and “our salvation depends on” identifying the correct “limits of fellowship,”  then Todd believes conservatives (including himself among conservatives) are in quite a pickle.  He asks:  “Who among us has the boundaries of fellowship figured out completely and with absolute certainty?” (p. 88).  No one, he concludes, and this entails that the paradigm itself is flawed and “extreme.”

Todd searches for consistency within the conservative position and he fails to find it. “We consistently withdraw from those who worship with the instrument because we believe such is without scriptural authority,” he writes, “yet we continually fellowship some who do other things we believe to be just as unauthorized” (p. 106).  And, at the same “we teach that we cannot fellowship those who bind where God has loosed, and we maintain fellowship with many brethren who oppose as sinful practices which we believe to be authorized” (p.  107; e.g., supporting children’s homes from the church treasury).

At root, Todd has deconstructed the ecclesiological perfectionism of the conservative (traditionalist) understanding of fellowship and authorized practices. Such perfectionism on fellowship and boundaries is unattainable (and, I would add, not intended by the authors of the New Testament). This was the “sole purpose” of his book (p. 108).

Todd does not offer a solution to the problem; that is not his purpose and there is no solution within the current paradigm. Rather, he suggests that what is needed is a “theological shift” (p. 110) whereby we turn to a different paradigm. 

I trust that this “shift” is partly a shift from ecclesiological perfectionism to Christological centrism. Many, including myself,  have suggested this as a way out of our incessant dividing and infighting (see my series on theological hermeneutics).  The value of Todd’s book is that is a fearless, fair and friendly demonstration that the current paradigm among conservative (traditionalist) Churches of Christ is a dead end–and, I would add, ultimately harmful and destructive.

Thanks, Todd, for your work.  I encourage those interested in the documentation and argumentation to purchase and read the book. The dialogue will continue at Todd’s new website “Bridging the Grace Divide.”

Texas Vs. Tennessee (1939)

George DeHoff (1913-1993), a native of Arkansas but a powerful influence in Tennessee throughout most of the 20th century, entered Harding College in the summer of 1934 and then transferred to Freed-Hardeman College in 1935. He experienced two different worlds in those years. He had previously attended Burritt College between 1929 and 1933 so he was primarily interested in biblical studies when he went to Harding and Freed-Hardeman.

At Harding, he studied under J. N. Armstrong and B. F. Rhodes–both Nashville Bible School graduates. At Freed-Hardeman, he studied under N. B. Hardeman, C. P. Roland, L. L. Brigance, and W. Claude Hall. Though both schools operated under the leadership of men in Churches of Christ, his teachers moved in different theological circles. George DeHoff followed the Freed-Hardeman path rather than 1930s Harding path.

Bobby Valentine and I have proposed a particular reading of Stone-Campbell history that recognizes a significant difference between the theology that shaped the Nashville Bible School (Tennessee Tradition as represented by the Gospel Advocate in the 1880s-1910s) and the theology that shape the Texas Tradition (represented by the Firm Foundation in th 1880s-1910s).  We (along with others such as Robert Hooper in A Distinct People) have argued that the Texas Tradition scored a coup-d’etat in the 1930s when Foy E. Wallace, Jr. (1930-1934) and John T. Hinds (1934-1938 ) assumed the editorship of the  Gospel Advocate–both of whom were Texans and writers for the Firm Foundation in previous years.

George DeHoff illustrates the battle for the soul of Churches of Christ that was raging  in the early decades of the 20th century. The Texas Tradition captured DeHoff’s allegiance in the 1930s if not before. This is clear from a guest editorial published in the February issue of the 1939 The Bible Banner, edited by Foy E. Wallace, Jr. He blasted Harding College, particularly J. N. Armstrong, and supported Freed-Hardeman and N. B. Hardeman. (In the 1940s DeHoff would teach at Freed-Hardeman and even be considered for its presidency when Hardeman resigned.)

DeHoff’s editorial–which is actually a letter declaring Harding College unsound (sound familiar?)–indicates some of the continued theological differences between the two traditions. These were obvious and debated in the 1890s-1910s, but slowly the Texas Tradition was squeezing out the Tennessee voices by the late 1930s.  J. N. Armstrong (d. 1944) was one of those voices.  Here are a few of the particulars that DeHoff “learned” in Armstrong’s classes while at Harding. They represent some of the differences between Texas and Tennessee. The emphases are mine.

“I learned that  many of our preachers are making a cold, formal system of legalism out of the gospel and their preaching is devoid of spirituality.  John T. Hinds and N. B. Hardeman were called by name.”

“I learned that God’s providence is the same in both Old and New Testaments.

“I learned…that the Holy Spirit dwells personally in the Christian and not just through the ‘mere word’.”

“I learned that our preachers have preached too much on baptism and ‘have stressed it all out of joint’ and ‘overemphasized‘ it.”

“I learned that we are ‘creed bound’ and that ‘our unwritten creed’ is as strong as any denominational creed.”

“I learned that God is not going to be cheated out of his earth but in all probability will have heaven here on earth.”

“I learned that many of the pioneer preachers believed in premillennialism and no one kicked up a fuss about it.”

“I learned that Foy E. Wallace, Jr.., had caused far more trouble with his theory of the millennium than R. H. Boll had.”

Actually, I wish DeHoff had “learned” these truths instead of rejecting them. They represent Armstrong quite accurately (as well as the Tennessee Tradition at the turn of the 20th century).  DeHoff made his choice. He chose what he thought was Bible teaching but it was actually the Texas Tradition come to  Tennessee and sinking deep roots into its soil.

When I was at Freed-Hardeman in the 1970s we commonly referred to Harding as the “liberal school across the river” (Mississippi).  Apparently, they were saying that in the 1930s as well….but for different reasons, at least on some points.

Contemporary “conservative” or “traditional” Churches of Christ are actually the remnants of the Texas Tradition. They were the “winners” in the struggle between Tennessee and Texas, and their victory was apparent in the 1940s. But the Tennessee Tradition did not die.  It remained alive in several quarters (partly at Harding College itself) until a renewed emphasis on the personal indwelling of the Spirit, grace and fellowship arose in the 1960s (e.g., K. C. Moser) would persuade some young ministers that the Churches of Christ had made a wrong turn in the 1930s.  The struggle for the soul of Churches of Christ continued…and still continues.

Another Example: Texas and Tennessee Clash

Foy E. Wallace, Jr. dubbed Harding College “an incubus of error” and “unsound” in the May 1941 issue of The Bible Banner.  Wallace’s assault against George Benson, J. N. Armstrong and Harding College is a good illustration of the tension between the Texas and Tennessee theological traditions within Churches of Christ. The emphases below are mine.

The testimony concerning George S. Benson. It has been brought out in direct testimony that after Brother Benson returned from China he taught that miracles were yet in force and that he was a witness to the casting out of devils in a man in China and, moreover, by a sectarian preacher! And it is also shown in this array of charges that until very recently Brother Benson admitted his premillennial views…Premillennialism is not all that is wrong at Harding. The byproducts of this theory are many. Brother Armstrong has been wrong on nearly everything, and has planted all of these errors in his schools in various locations, Oklahoma, Kansas, Missouri and Arkansas. We can furnish plenty of witnesses from Oklahoma. Brother Harper has already furnished them from Arkansas. His teaching on the work of the Holy Spirit has been contradictory to the fundamentals of the gospel, which accounts for his public statements that Bogard whipped Hardeman on the Holy Spirit debate-he is more in agreement with Bogard than Hardeman or any other gospel preacher. His teaching on miraculous answers to prayer in connection with direct special providence is carried to the worst sectarian extremes….Brother Armstrong has taught this kind of foolishness all of his life in all of his schools. He has been wrong on the sectarian baptism question, and would hardly baptize a Baptist, if he wanted to be. He was dead set against the Firm Foundation in all of these controversies of the past and has never strengthened any young preacher along any of these lines. The young men who have come from Harding strong in the faith, are strong in spite of the fact that they attended Harding College and not because of it….”Harding needs to get right.” Verily, it does.

It is significant that Wallace identifies the Firm Foundation as the journal that would take the opposite view on all of these questions.  Armstrong, a graduate and then teacher at the Nashville Bible School, followed his father-in-law James A. Harding’s theological trajectory.  The battle between the Firm Foundation and the Gospel Advocate in the 1890s-1910s extended into the 1940s when the last–for all practical purposes–holdout for the Tennessee tradition was Harding College.  The early 1940s saw repeated attempts to force Harding College to conform to the expectations of the Texas Tradition (e.g., fire all teachers who believed in premillennialism). E. R. Harper and Foy  E. Wallace, Jr. led the assault.

Theologically, some of the differences are apparent in the quoted paragraph.

1.  Tennessee did not see premillennialism as problematic; indeed, many of them believed it.  The Texas tradition was amillennial.

2.  Tennessee believed that miracles still occurred in answer to prayer (though miraculous gifts to individuals had ceased).  Texas believed providence operated by the laws of nature and miracles no longer happened.

3.  Tennessee believed that faith in Jesus was sufficient for baptism.  Texas believed that what one believed about baptism also determined whether a baptism was valid or not.

4.  Tennessee believed in the personal indwelling of the Spirit. Texas did not.

5.  Another difference, not mentioned in this litanny by Wallace, but would become a stinging issue within seven months is the war question.  Tennessee was pacifistic in varying senses, but Texas (particularly in the person of Wallace) was hawkish on the war.

As Wallace indicates, these are no small differences.  Armstrong, he thought, was wrong on “nearly everything.” These differences reflected a different orientation to kingdom life.  Whereas Wallace (and the Texas Tradition as a whole) operated out of order, law and human mechanics (e.g., “five steps of salvation” were all human acts), Armstrong (and the Tennessee Tradition as a whole) operated out of mystery, grace and divine dynamics. 

While they shared many views (e.g., on instrumental music, church polity, baptism for the remission of sins, etc.), these particulars were understood against two very different theological worldviews.  They could live together comfortably when there was a significant common enemy (e.g., Baptists, Christian Church, etc.), but when they engaged each other they both knew that the other had, as Luther supposedly told Zwingli at Marburg in 1529, a “different spirit.”

Division in the Stone-Campbell Movement: A Case Study

Winchester, Kentucky, is a small town of only 16,000 in a county (Clark) of 33,000.  The city lies in the heart of the origins of the Stone-Campbell Movement. Within a sixty mile radius are Lexington, Cane Ridge, Mt. Sterling, Georgetown and other famous cities of the early years of that history. The story of the Stone-Campbell Movement in Winchester, KY illustrates the progress and process of division within the movement.

Division One, Baptist-Christian: In 1812 the Strode’s Station Church (formed in 1791), a member of the North District Association of Baptist Churches, moved 1.5 miles to a lot on Lexington Road in Winchester and became known as the “Friendship Church.”  In 1821 it reported 125 members led by Elder Quisenberry.  In 1822 Quisenberry was dismissed by a minority in the church because of his interest in the teachings of Barton W. Stone (since 184) and Alexander  Campbell’s “Sermon on the Law” (given in 1816). Though Quisenberry withdrew his leadership, the result was two congregations known as “Friendship Church” in Winchester–one (ultimately the First Baptist Chuch) belonging to the Licking Association and the other (ultimately the first Stone-Campbell congregation) a member of the North District Association. The Stone-Campbell group renamed themselves “Christian Church at Friendship” in 1825 and moved their membership to the Boone Association.

Division Two, Baptist-Christian:  In 1828 Elder William Morton, the regular preacher for the Christian Church, preached the introductory sermon for the Boone Association when it met at Winchester. At this meeting a resolution was proposed to abolish the Association’s constitution and accept the Bible alone as their rule of faith and practice.  In 1829, the Christian Church at Friendship, along with five other congregations, withdrew from the Boone Association. These churches were now independent and informally associated with the work of John “Racoon” Smith and Jacob Creath, Sr.  Elder Morton himself baptized 300 persons in the first six months of 1828 through his intinerant evangelism. The Winchester “Christian Church at Friendship” was clearly situated within the orbit of Alexander Campbell’s influence though Stone held a camp meeting at Winchester in 1832. Campbell preached at Winchester in 1834 (and later in 1851). Aylette Rains served as a monthly preacher for the Christian Church from 1834-1861. Raines lost favor with the congregation due to his unionist proclivities when the church essentially wanted to stay neutral. The congregation erected a new building in 1845 and became known as the “Court Street Christian Church,” started a Sunday School in 1850 ,and by 1865 numbered 300.

Division Three, Black-White:  Prior to the Civil War the Friendship Church and its descendent the Court Street Christian Church counted some blacks among their members. Sometime after the Civil War an African-American Christian Church appeared in Winchester (there were only four in Kentucky prior to the Civil War), one of nearly seventy African-American congregations organized from 1865-1900 in Kentucky. The Broadway Christian Church obtained property in 1858. Little is known about the origins of this particular congregation. The congregation never grew above 100 and still exists.

Division Four, Instrumental-Noninstrumental: In 1887 the organ was introduced into the public worship of the church at Winchester (the same year it was introduced in Georgetown and Hopkinsville, KY).  Trouble had apparently been brewing for a while. This is the home church of James W. Harding (1823-1919) and his son James  A. Harding (1848-1922). J. W.’s mother and grandmother had been members of the original Friendship Church and J. W. was baptized by Rains in 1839. Though a local buisnessman, he was an Elder at the church and an intinerant evangelist in the region. He was close friends with Moses Lard and J. W. McGarvey. While the organ was originally introduced into the Sunday School as a compromise, when it was moved into the public assembly this “drove out a number of the oldest, wisest and best members” (according to W. F. Neal).  The organ remained in the church despite a petition signed by “forty-five conscientious members.” They began a new congregation in the home of J. W. Harding with fifteen people and was known, after the erection of a building in 1891, as the  ”Fairfax Street Church of Christ.” By 1898 the membership was 378. At the turn of the century, the Fairfax Street Church of Christ (400 members) and the Court Street Christian Church (600 members) were the largest churches in Winchester.

Division Five, Premillennial-Amillennial: The Fairfax Church employed their first regular minister in 1912, H. C. Shoulders. When he was dismissed in 1917, 240 members organized a new congregation on January 19, 1918 known as the Main Street Church of Christ. Apparently, generational and leadership issues (growing dissatisfaction with the Hardings) as well as millennialism were the center of the tension. The Fairfax Church was only left with 68 members. Though briefly reunited in 1926 after the deaths of some of the Hardings and some agreement about toning down the millennialism, fifteen people began to meet at the Fairfax building by the end of the year (the same number that started meeting in 1887). Eventually the Fairfax church grew to 100 and has hovered in that neighborhood ever since. The division between the two churches was acerbated and written in stone by the debate on premillennialism held in Winchester between Charles M. Neal and Foy E. Wallace, Jr., from January 2-7, 1933. The premillennial movement within Churches of Christ operated a Bible College at Winchester from 1949-1979.

Division Six, Disciples of Christ and Christian Church/Churces of Christ:  The Court Street Christian Church, now known as the First Christian Church, moved into a new building in 1908 and employed a well-known minister by the name of J. H. MacNeill. He became a board member of the College of the Bible (now Lexington Theological Seminary), ultimately its chairman, and was a major player in the formation of the United Missionary Society.  Between 1917-1918, at the time of the heresy trials at the College of the Bible, MacNeill began reporting his work through the Christian Evangelist rather than the Christian Standard.  However, a few in his congregation opposed his College associations and he resigned in 1923 (4 accepted, 2 abstained and 20 refused the resignation). The First Christian Church was well-entrenched in the direction of the Disciples of Christ, the United Missionary Society, and “liberal” higher education. It would not be until 1973 when an independent Christian Church/Churches of Christ congregation would be planted in the city (Calvary Christian Church) and another followed known as the Christview Christian Church (though three  congregations in the County were listed in the 1960 direction of Christian/Churches and Churches of Christ:  Log Lick, Antioch, and Ruckersville with Forest Grove added in 1965).

Division Seven, Institutional-Noninstitutional:  Throughout the 1950s Churches of Christ nationwide debated whether churches should support Colleges, children’s homes, and sponsored missionaries. For one side (institutionalists) it was an expedient means, for the other it was the machinery of denominationalism (noninstitutionalists). In 1964 a small group in the Fairfax Church of Christ withdrew after several years of discussion when the church decided to support orphans homes out of their church treasury rather than simply providing an optional “non-worship activity” box for such contributions in the foyer. This group ultimately planted a new congregation in Winchester in 1966.

Winchester, KY, is Exhibit A for the history of division within the Stone-Campbell Movement.  Within the city limits of this same town in the heart of Stone-Campbell history, are two Christian Churches, three Churches of Christ, and two Christian Churches/Churches of Christ.  They number about 1600 out of a popuation of 16,000 people.

Privilege or Silence: Women in Churches of Christ (1897-1907) I

One of the forgotten debates from the first decade of the 20th century among Churches of Christ is whether audible participation in the assembly through prayer, singing, and exhortation was a woman’s privilege or a subversion of the created order. May a woman lead prayer in the assembly? May a woman lead singing in the assembly? May a woman exhort, edify or comfort the assembly through audible speech?  May a woman read Scripture in the assembly?

These were live issues among Churches of Christ at the turn of the 20th century.  In writing an article to be published this summer, I read through the Firm Foundation, Gospel Advocate, The Way, The Octographic Review, Christian Leader, and the Christian Leader & the Way for the years 1897-1907.  During those ten years Churches of Christ established their ”distinct and separate”  identity from the Christian Church.  1897 is a good beginning point since this is the year that David Lipscomb recognized a “radical and fundamental difference” between the disciples of Christ and the “society folks” (GA, 1897, 4).  1907 is a good ending point since that year Lipscomb acknowledged that the Churches of Christ were a ”distinct and separate” body from the Christian Church (GA, 1907, 450).

During those ten years Churches of Christ also struggled (and continued to struggle beyond that decade) over the exact form and nature of that identity.  One issue that was debated–heatedly and pervasively–was the question of female privilege or silence. Is it a woman’s privilege  to participate audibly in the assembly or must they be wholly silent except for singing?  In the next few posts I will explore this largely forgotten discussion.

I begin with the common ground among Churches of Christ (represented by the papers listed above) that distinguished them from the more progressive among the Disciples of Christ (Christian Church). There are at least two areas in which the editors of these papers stood united against the “digressives.”

First, they all agreed that women should not be “public teachers” in the “public assemly” of the church or exercise ruling authority in the church such as belongs to the elders of the congregation (some, like Lipscomb, did not like the idea of “ruling authority,” but still objected to women functioning as shepherds in a congregation).  While arguing that women are not totally silenced in the assemblies by the New Testament, J. C. Frazee in the Octographic Review acknowledges that “we understand that they are not permitted to teach (usurp authority), taking the oversight of the Church, as officals (elders, bishops, etc.)” (OR, 1904, 2).  Some, like Theodore DeLong, argued that public teaching was the only thing denied a woman in the public assembly:  “Is there any other good thing that women are commanded not to do except teach in public?” (CLW, 1905, 2). More specifically, James A. Harding argued that “the speaking that is forbidden in the church is that in which the woman becomes a leader, one in authority” and the reason it is forbidden is because “God made man to be the leader, the ruler, and the woman to be his helpmeet” (CLW, 1904, 8).

It was one of the characteristics of the “digressives” or progressives that women sometimes functioned as preachers and evangelists. According to John T. Poe, it was “common among the digressives for women to preach, lecture and pray now as among any of the other sets. But,” he added, “it must not be so in the church of Christ” (FF, 1901, 12). This became an identifiable marker that distinguished the Christian Church (“digressives”), though not even all or most of their congregations, from the Churches of Christ. Indeed, this point (“woman is not to usurp authority, is to keep silence in the church”) is so plain, according to Lipscomb, that he did “not see why the teaching that Jesus is the Son of God may not be set aside by the same rule and reasoning” that this “teaching is set aside” (GA, 1897, 356). [Lipscomb's article was reprinted in the Firm Foundation.]

Second, they all agreed that women should not participate in the organization, leadership and function of various ecclesiastical societies or any activist society (e.g., the temperance movement).

At one level this was directed against the “digressives” who encouraged women to organize local societies.  “Dear sisters,”  wrote William Wise in the Firm Foundation, “do not suffer yourselves to be organized into women’s aid societies. Do all your work in the Lord’s house–His church” (FF, 1904, 3).  Such participation is divisive because God has not authorized such societies.  Thus, “women who build societies and become presidents and public leaders,” according E. G. Sewell,  ”bring troubles, bring wounds and heartaches among brethren, cause division and strife in churches and throw a blight over Christian unity wherever they prevail” (GA, 1897, 469).  [Sewell's article was reprinted in the Firm Foundation.]  The standard warning, voiced by Wise, was: “Don’t let any digressive click organize you into their societies” (FF,  1901, 2).

At another level this was directed toward any activism by women outside the home or church. The public sphere was not accessible to woman as determined by God’s created order, according to the argument. This perspective was strongly embedded within the Tennessee Tradition flowing out of the teaching of David Lipscomb and James A. Harding.  I will begin my next post elaborating this position and how it shaped discussion among Churches of Christ.

More to come….

References

Theodore DeLong, “The Woman Question,” Christian Leader & the Way 45 (7 November 1905) 2.

J. C. Frazee, “Your Women,” Octographic Review 47 (5 July 1904) 2.

James A. Harding, “Woman’s Work in the Church,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (8 March 1904) 8-9.

David Lipscomb, “The Church of Christ and the ‘Disciples of Christ,” Gospel Advocate 49 (18 July 1907) 450.

David Lipscomb, “The Churches Across the Mountains,” Gospel Advocate 39 (7 January 1897) 4.

David Lipscomb, “Women in the Church,” Gospel Advocate 39 (10 June 1897) 356.

David Lipsomb, “Women in the Church,” Firm Foundation 13 (13 July 1897) 2.

John T. Poe, “Female Evangelists,” Firm Foundation 16 (29 January 1901), 2.

Elisha G. Sewell, “Woman’s Real Position in the Church,” Gospel Advocate 39 (29 July 1897) 469.

Elisha G. Sewell, “Woman’s Real Position in the Church,” Firm Foundation 13 (24 August 1897) 1.

William Wise, “Woman,” Firm Foundation 16 (2 April 1901) 2.

William Wise, “Woman’s Work in the Church,” Firm Foundation 21 (3 May 1904) 3.

Privilege or Silence: Women in Churches of Christ (1897-1907) II

My previous post provided the common ground upon which Churches of Christ distinguished themselves from the “digressives” in the first decade of the 20th century regarding “women’s work in the church.” The editors of the major journals among Churches of Christ were agreed that (1) women are not permitted to preach the word publicly (as evangelists in the field or speakers in the assembly), (2) women are not permitted to exercise ruling authority over the church as elders or bishops, and (3) women should avoid participation in the various societies associated with the progressives.

Some, primarily those associated with the Tennessee Tradition (e.g., David Lipscomb and James A. Harding), grounded their conclusions in a broad understanding of the role of women in society. They believed that women were forbidden any kind of public leadership whether in the home, church or society. Consequently, not only should they not speak publicly in the worshipping assembly, they should not speak publicly anywhere.  Not only should they not function as elders in the church, they should not become business leaders, presidents, or school teachers. Some, like R. C. Bell, believed that they should not even publish in the papers. After all, “if it is a shame for a woman to be a public speaker, why is it not a shame for her to be a public writer?” (Bell, The Way, 1903, 777). Consequently, they should not lead in church or society; they should not lead, for example, temperance societies or become involved in any kind of social activism in a leadership capacity.

Elisha G. Sewell, co-editor of the Gospel Advocate, argued this point in several 1897 articles. Based on Genesis 3:16, Sewell believed that (GA, 1897, 432):

From the time that sin entered into the world, and entered through woman, she has been placed in a retiring, dependent, and quiet position, and never has been put forward as a leader among men in any public capacity from the garden of Eden till now…This seems to have been a general decree for all time, for God has never varied from it an any age or dispensation….’Thy desire shall be to thy husband,’ is indicative of dependence—not in any slavish sense, but in the sense that she is to look to man as a leader and protector, and, in certain measure, supporter and provider….God himself never changed this decree, and does not allow man to change it.

The woman’s sphere of influence is the home, not public life. This is where she finds her purity and peace rather than engaging in the “busy cares of life” (Sewell, GA, 1897, 461).

While editors Lipscomb, Sewell and Harding all shared this perspective, probably the clearest case was made by R. C. Bell who studied at the Nashville Bible School and taught with Harding at Potter Bible College.  He suggested that women are superior to men in emotion but inferior in will while equal in intellect.  These differences reflect the function God has given to males and females.  Excelling in emotion, woman is tailored for home life but lacking in “will power” she “is not fitted for public life” since “she lacks, by nature, the will power to combat successfully against the cruel, relentless business world.”  The fact that woman was created from man’s side indicates that “she is to walk through life by man’s side as his helpmeet and companion, sheltered and protected from the world, and the rough, degrading contact of public life, by his strong, overshadowing arm.”  Bell’s conclusion then is that (The Way, 1903, 776):

woman is not permitted to exercise dominion over man in any calling of life. When a woman gets her diploma to practice medicine, every Bible student knows that she is violating God’s holy law. When a woman secures a license to practice law, she is guilty of the same offense. When a woman mounts the lecture platform or steps into the pulpit or the public school room, she is disobeying God’s law and disobeying the promptings of her inner nature. When God gives his reason for woman’s subjection and quietness, he covers the whole ground and forbids her to work in any public capacity…She is not fitted to do anything publicly….Every public woman—lawyer, doctor, lecturer, preacher, teacher, clerk, sales girl and all—would then step from their post of public work into their father’s or husband’s home, where most of them prefer to be, and where God puts them….You are now no longer a public slave, but a companion and home-maker for man; you are now in the only place where your womanly influence has full play and power

These are strong words and they are so distant from our contemporary context that we might cringe or at least blush reading them.  But one may admire the consistency, I suppose. If God created woman to serve under man’s protecting arm and God determined that man should rule over the woman as a result of the Fall, then this would apply not only to home and church, but also to society.  “That man should rule is the ordinance of God that grows out of the natures of man and woman. “God put in him the ruling qualities,” according to James A. Harding. While women are “very much superior to men” in many ways, “her superiority is not in leadership” (CLW, 1904, 9). Woman was designed for domesticity and reigns as queen in the home as a symbol of purity and love. “Woman may be queen, but she can never be king” and if she “seek and gain public place and power, then all is lost” (Hawley, The Way, 1903, 810).

This view was not only pushed by particular men but was also endorsed by some women. Effie S. Black, for example, scolded women who worked outside the home because “every woman who follows a profession or engages in a business makes it more difficult for some man to  provide the necessities for an invalid wife, an aged mother, helpless children, or whoever may be dependent upon him.”  Wives, of course, should work but in the home “for something better than gold,” that is, “better homes, nobler manhood and womanhood, higher ideals, purer thoughts, holier living, and all that can make our country–yes, and the whole world–better for having lived” (The Way, 1903,  397). 

Interestingly, this approach to the relationship of women to society and the church ran parallel with a strong cultural movement in the United States, particularly in New England and the South. It was called the “Cult of True Womanhood” or the “Cult of Domesticity.” This movement idealized women as the true embodiment of “piety, purity, submissiveness and domesticity.” Such idealization excluded women from public life but honored their influence in the home (See, for example, Smith, CLW,  1906, 2-3). This perspective was pervasive until the “New Woman” movement appeared in the late 19th century pressing for the vote and a larger role in public life.

The clash of cultural movements is reflected, for example, by John T. Poe (a native Tennessean who moved to Texas) when he noted that “since woman took her hand from the cradle and grabbed at the ballot box a few years ago, her course has been away from her God given path and mission into paths of her own blazing out, and as a consequence the world is growing worse.”  Poe insisted that “God made women as helpmeets for man. Her place is at home” and not in public speaking. “If God had intended for women” for public speaking, “He would have given them a voice adapted to public speaking.” As it is now, her “squeaky voice, weak lungs and generally weak mental ability” disqualify her (FF, 1901, 2).

Cultures were in conflict.   The editors of the Tennessee Tradition had grown up and ministered in the cultural atmosphere of “True Womanhood.” But now a new cultural movement was rising which would lead to female suffrage, political leaders, and business women.  This cultural shift was terra incognita, and the Tennessee Tradition was wholly opposed to it.

But that was not true of everyone within Churches of Christ at the turn of the 20th century.

More to come…..

 
References

R. C. Bell, “Woman’s Work,” The Way 5 (6 August 1903) 775-777.

Effie S. Black, “Whould Wives Work?” The Way 4 (19 February 1903) 397.

James A. Harding, “Woman’s Work in the Church,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (8 March 1904) 8-9.

Henry Hawley, “Woman and Her Work,” The Way 5 (20 August 1903)  810.

John T. Poe, “Female Evangelists,” Firm Foundation 16 (29 January 1901) 2.

Elisha G. Sewell, “What is Woman’s Work in the Church (Again)?” Gospel Advocate 39 (22 July 1897) 432.

Elisha G. Sewell, “Woman’s Real Position in the Church,” Gospel Advocate 39 (29 July 1897) 469.

F. W. Smith, “The Glory of  True Womanhood: A Sermon Delivered by F. W. Smith to Graduates of the Horse Cave High School,” Christian Leader & the Way 20 (1 May 1906) 2-3.

Privilege or Silence: Women in Churches of Christ (1897-1907) III

In my next post I will turn my attention to “privilege,” but in this one I dig deeper into the argument for silence.

The Tennessee Tradition regarded public silence as godly submission on the part of faithful women. Given the Tennessee understanding that women were inferior to men in terms of leadership capacity and excluded from any ”public” life as outlined in my previous post, it is not surprising to see the New Testament construed in a way that fits that presupposition. When seeking to inductively collect and harmonize the New Testament’s teaching on “woman’s work,” the Tennessee Tradition concluded that the most significant distinction was public versus private. Women “must pray and teach, but not publicly” (Bell, The Way, 1903, 1046).

Priscilla taught Apollos with Aquilla. Phillip’s daughters prophesied. Corinthian women prayed and prophesied. “Women announced the resurrection to the eleven” and the Samaritan woman “proclaimed” Jesus “as the Christ to the people of her city.” “The fact that,” Harding continued, “women in the apostolic age prophesied (spoke by inspiration) makes it clear to my mind that women who know God’s Word now should teach it.” But this “by no means necessarily implies that she taught in the public meetings of the church” (Harding, CLW,1904, 8).

The discerning principle is not whether a woman may teach or not teach, or pray or not pray. Rather, it is the sphere in which she teaches or prays, and the sphere determines the nature of the leadership involved. Her sphere is the home rather than the “great assembly.” Since God created man as “the leader, the ruler,” when a woman “assumes the leadership” through prayer or teaching in the public sphere as she “directs and controls” the “thoughts” of others she then “takes a place for which she was not made” (Harding, CLW, 1904, 8). That sphere belongs to men whereas woman was given “the humbler, better place and more difficult work,” that is, the domestic life (Hawley, The Way, 1903, 810). “Her place,” Poe wrote, “is at home to guide the house [and] rear the children” (Poe, FF, 1901, 2). This principle is rooted in Creation and illustrated by the Fall. Eve “wrecked things when she took the leadership in Eden” (Harding, The Way, 1902, 393).

The home, however, is a place where women may teach and pray, and she may teach even her own husband—“even though he be a very great man”—as well as her children. When, for example, Priscilla studied the Scriptures with Apollos, “no leadership was assumed;” but rather “there was a social home-circle talk about the things of the kingdom of God” (Harding, CLW, 1904, 8). In another place, Harding offers a further characterization of this kind of “home” environment. When there are “private meetings of a social nature, where no organization is thought of, no leaders appointed, a Christian woman may teach” men, women or children and pray with them. “But when the meeting is organized, called to order, and leaders are appointed, those leaders should be men always” (Harding, CLW,1906, 8). Bell—one of Harding’s prize students—summarizes it this way: a woman “can teach anybody anywhere except in cases where publicity is connected with it” (Bell, The Way, 1903, 777).

But may she teach in a “mixed” Bible class on the first day of the week? Is that connected to “publicity;” is it public? Both Bell and Harding believed that a woman may read Scripture (when asked), answer questions (when asked), ask questions, and thereby “teach” in a Bible class on Sunday when to do any of these in the public assembly would be sinful (Harding, The Way, 1902, 393; Bell, The Way, 1903, 777). Consequently, the assembly is “public” in a way that the Bible class is not. The distinction is important for them because “teaching is not denied her.” She may teach in a Bible class through reading, questioning and answering questions. What is forbidden is “publicity or exercising dominion” over men. Consequently, she may answer or ask questions in a Bible class when she does so “in a quiet, submissive way, being in subjection to the public leader” (Bell, The Way, 1903, 777).  

Interestingly and at the same time raising the question of consistency, the Bible class has a “public leader” even though it is not “public” in the same way as the assembly, according to Bell, but when a woman participates in the class she does not engage in “publicity” which presumably means the only “publicity” in a Bible class is located in the “public leader” or appointed teacher. Though a woman may teach other women and children in a Bible class as the lead teacher (Harding, The Way, 1903, 417), she is not permitted to teach men as the “public teacher” because this would involve a public exercise of authority over men. Yet, a woman is able to audibly participate in a class as a student (read, ask questions and answer questions) while she is not permitted to audibly participate at all in the public assembly. It appears that the definition of “publicity” shifted somewhat between the assembly and the Bible class.

Lipscomb and Sewell, however, do not seem to have a problem with a woman teaching a Bible class including men if they teach in a “quiet, modest, womanly way” (Questions Answered, 736).  Sewell gives the example of the Tenth Street Church in Nashville (Questions Answered, 741-2): 

“after singing, the reading of the lession, and prayer, the different classes take their places in different parts of the house, so that each class is entirely to itself as a class, and the lesson is gone over by each class, and the teacher, just as if each class were in a house to itself. Some of these classes are taught by sisters and some by brethren. But the sisters who teach these classes are as private in their work as if they were teaching at home…If churches can find enough competent brethren that will teach all the classes, that is all well; but that is seldom the case; and when that fails and women teach classes, we think that allright also.”

And, of course, “when the hour nears its close, the class work is closed, and at eleven o’clock the church assembles in one body and the regular service begins. In this service not a woman says a word, except in singing” (Questions Answered, 741). Not even a sound, we might say, because 1 Corinthians 14:34-35 says women should be silent in the assembly when the whole church is gathered as one body.

But did not women audibly pray and prophesy in the Corinthian assembly? Harding argued that when 1 Corinthians 11 is read as a positive answer to that question it contradicts 1 Corinthians 14:34-35. Rather, Harding suggested that 1 Corinthians 11 applies to “any time or place” when women pray or teach (home, class or assembly) but that 1 Corinthians 14 regulates this general instruction with a specific prohibition against speaking in the public assembly. The point of 1 Corinthians 11 is a woman should always, whether in public or private, pray or teach “with her head covered” (Harding, CLW, 1906, 8). Harding, along with many others in the Tennessee Tradition, believed a covered head was a normative obligation for women whenever they prayed or taught (though some, like Lipscomb, thought long hair was a sufficient covering; but if the hair was not long, then the woman needed a further artificial covering–see Questions Answered, p. 706). 1 Corinthians 11 does not subvert 1 Corinthians 14. Instead, 1 Corinthians 14 regulates 1 Corinthians 11. This is confirmed, according to Harding and others who argued similarly, by 1 Timothy 2:8 where the prayer leader—the one who raises “uplifted hands”—is specifically designated as a male (Harding, ”Brother C. D. Moore,” CLW, 1907, 8).

The seriousness of this conclusion should not be underestimated. Paul’s prohibitions in 1 Timothy 2 and 1 Corinthians 14 were understood as “positive” instructions for the assembled, worshiping church. Below are some examples (emphasis mine).

 “The language is plain and positive” (Carr, CLW, 1905, 1).
“Paul’s language—plain and positive as it is…” (Elliott, CL, 1897, 2).
“[T]the Lord positively forbids it” (Hawley, The Way, 1903, 810).
“[S]he will preach in the face of God’s positive command not to do it” (Poe, FF, 1901, 2).
“This decree is like the one in Eden: it is positive” (Sewell, GA, 1897, 432).

This language is overtly legal in nature. The Stone-Campbell Movement inherited the use of “positive” and “moral” descriptions of divine law from their English Reformed (Puritan) heritage. A “positive law”—a specific legal injunction regarding the worship assembly, for example—cannot be disregarded without dire consequences. “When God positively commands,” Harding writes, “we should meekly obey”(emphasis mine; “Brethren Faurott,” CLW, 1907, 8). For example, “positive law” prescribed the five acts of worship and those who add to (e.g., instrumental music) that number sin against God’s law. “Nothing in the Bible is more positively forbidden” than public speaking by women in the church. When women are permitted to speak (teach or pray) in the public assemblies, the positive injunction against such is violated and violaters fall into the same category as Nadab and Abihu (emphasis mine; Sewell, GA, 1897, 692).

Consequently, the consensus among Southern churches—in both Texas and Tennessee as represented by respected editors—was that this was a line in the sand just like instrumental music or baptism itself. “That women are not allowed to make speeches in the meetings of the churches,” Harding noted, “is just as plainly and strongly taught as that believers are to be baptized” (Harding, “Was Paul Mistaken,” 1907, 8). When congregations permit women to “lead the prayers, to speak and to exhort in the meetings of the church,” Harding did not believe “God’s law was ever more flagrantly violated than…at this point” (Harding, “Brethren Faurott,” 1907, 8). These differences were just cause for separation and distinction, that is, division.

My next post will articulate a different perspective–the “privilege” of women to publicly lead prayers, read Scripture and exhort the assembly. The defense of that “privilege” comes from a rather unexpected source(s) within Churches of Christ at the turn of the century.

More to come….

References: 

R. C. Bell, “Woman’s Work,” The Way 5 (3 December 1903) 1046.

O. A. Carr, “Woman’s Work in the Church, What She Should Do in Public Worship. No. 3,” Christian Leader & the Way 19 (30 May 1905) 1.

J. Perry Elliott, “Queries,” Christian Leader 11 (5 January 1897) 2.

Harding, “Brethren Faurott, Sands and the Woman Question,” Christian Leader & the Way 21 (17  December 1907) 8.

Harding, “Bro. C. D. Moore, Sister Chloe’s Letter and the Woman Question,” Christian Leader & the Way 21 (29 October 1907) 8.

James A. Harding, “Questions and Answers,” The Way 4 (5 March 1903) 417.

James A. Harding, “Scraps,” The Way 3 (20 March 1902) 393.

James A. Harding, “Was Paul Mistaken, Or Did He Lie About It, or Are I Cor. 14:33-35 and I Tim. 2:8-13 Both True?” Christian Leader & the Way 21 (26 November 1907) 8.

James A. Harding, “Where and How Shall Women Speak and Pray?” Christian Leader & the Way 20 (31 July 1906) 8.

James A. Harding, “Woman’s Work in the Church,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (8 March 1904) 8.

Henry H. Hawley, “Woman and Her Work,” The Way 5 (20 August 1903), 810.

John T. Poe, “Female Evangelists,” Firm Foundation 16 (29 January 1901) 2.

Elisha G. Sewell, “What May Women Do in the Church?” Gospel Advocate 39 (4 November 1897) 692.

Privilege or Silence: Women in Churches of Christ (1897-1907) IV

The previous post stated the specific arguments for silence. This post presents the case for “privilege.”

In January 1904 the Christian Leader and The Way merged. Though a friendly merger, it was the union of a strong Tennessee paper with a Northern paper whose roots were shared by Daniel Sommer. This entailed some substantial difference at times (e.g., pacifism), including the “woman question.” The Christian Leader had a significant history of openness toward female participation in the assembly through reading Scripture, prayer and exhortation. In 1897, for example, Ben Atkins offered “a Scriptural call for women to resume Christian activity in the church, praying, speaking, exhorting, singing, teaching, as in the apostolic age in Corinth” (CL, 1897, 2).

Consequently, Harding immediately found himself in hot water with some readers when he quickly staked out his ground on the “woman question” as co-editor of the new Christian Leader & the Way (CLW, 1904, 8). W. J. Brown of Cloverdale, Indiana, for example, cautioned that “before we force upon the churches our narrow, ignorant interpretations of the Bible, we ought to go back and study the question again” (CLW, 1904, 5). Also, Harmon rebuked some writers (presumably Harding included) with some terse words: “Don’t forbid these women, as you have been doing” (CLW, 1904, 9).  And Foster, as if to let Harding know that Northerners did things a bit different on this question, wrote that “it is not counted immodest here, in these times, for a woman to speak or pray, even in the churches” and since “we find where they prophesied” in the New Testament, “why not now?” (CLW, 1904, 4). Further, Spayd asked the question directly:  “Why muzzle the women in the Church?” (CLW, 1904, 2).

Daniel Sommer, the leader of what is often regarded as the radical right wing of Churches of Christ at the turn of the century, defended the privileges of women in the assembly and in the work of the church (e.g., deaconesses; OR, 1897, 1). His article, “Woman’s Religious Duties and Privileges in Public,” summarizes his perspective in some detail (OR, 1901, 1). “Extremes beget extremes,” Sommer began. The extreme of women evangelists had begat the extreme of silencing women in the assembly. It had now become a hobby, in his opinion, for some Southern writers. He suggested a middle ground which had been the practice of churches in his experience for years. That practice extended the privilege of audible prayer to women as well as men. “Any reasoning which will prevent women from praying in public,” he contended, “will prevent her from communing and singing.” He thought it a woman’s privilege to “publicly read in audible tones a portion of Scripture” in the assembly as long as she did not comment, apply or enforce “its meaning” since she would thereby become a “public teacher” which 1 Timothy 2:12 forbids.  However, “it is a woman’s privilege to teach a class in a meeting house” since the class is not the publicly assembled congregation. Further, since exhortation and teaching are different, even during the assembly, “if a sister in good standing wishes to arise in a congregation and offer an exhortation it is her privilege to do so.” A woman’s privilege, then, includes audible prayer in the assembly, public reading of Scripture in the assembly, public exhortation of the assembly, and teaching a Bible class of men, women and/or children.

Within the Sommer tradition the phrase “rights, privileges and duties” was almost a mantra that sought to impress readers with the sanctity of the female voice in the assembly. These universal “privileges,” according to J. C. Glover, were “singing, praying, exhorting and teaching one another, giving thanks, breaking break, and laying by in store as the Lord has prospered” on the first day of the week, and “no local legislation” should “interfere with these duties in the Lord” (CLW, 1906, 4) Frazee stressed that the “rights, privileges, and duties pertaining to the worship” belong to all and everyone has the “same rights and privileges to participate as far as their ability will permit.” While this does not include teaching that takes the “oversight of the Church,” it does include “speaking unto men to edification, and exhortation, and comfort” which was the function of prophecy in 1 Corinthians 14 (OR, 1904, 2). 1 Corinthians 14:34-35 was contextualized in several different ways, including restricting the forbidden speech to tongue-speaking (Black, CLW, 1907, 4), interpreting “your women” as the wives of the prophets (Williams, The Way, 1903, 1045), or recognizing the restriction as applicable to disorderly women (Atkins, CL, 1897, 2).

While some within the Sommer tradition agreed with Harding and others that “teaching and usurping authority over the man” were forbidden “even in the social family relation,” they nevertheless strongly contended that audible participation in the assembly “was a right—privilege—or duty” (Glover, CLW, 1906, 4). There was, among some, a shared cultural assumption about the exclusion of women from public society. But this did not undermine female participation in the assembly because the Church was different from human society. Whereas society is governed by the principles inherent in the “family of man” where man is the head of the woman, in the “family of God woman takes her place by the side of man” and fully participates in the assembly. Since the assembly is a “meeting of the family of God,” where “there is neither male nor female,” everyone—both male and female—should “admonish one another” as per Romans 15:14. When “the whole church is come together,” women are authorized and encouraged “to speak to the edification, exhortation and comfort of the church” (Cameron, OR, 1905, 2).

References

Ben Atkins, “The Woman Question,” Christian Leader 11 (2 February 1897) 2.

Charles S. Black, “That Awful Woman Question?” Christian Leader & the Way 21 (19 November 1907) 4.
 
W. J. Brown, “Notes of Passing Interest,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (16 August 1904) 5.

W. D. Cameron, “Your Women,” Octographic Review 48 (11 April 1905) 2.

W. W. Foster, “Twelve Women and Two Men,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (18 February 1904) 4.

J. C. Frazee, “Your Women,” Octographic Review 47 (5 July 1904) 2.

J. C. Glover, “Questions on the Woman Question Answered,” Christian Leader & the Way 20 (19 June 1906) 4.

James A. Harding, “Woman’s Work in the Church,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (8 March 1904) 8.

F. U. Harmon, “The Woman Question,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (6 September 1904) 9.

Daniel Sommer, “Church Government. Number Two,” Octographic Review 40 (19 October 1897) 1.

Daniel Sommer, “Woman’s Religious Duties and Privileges in Public,” Octographic Review 34 (20 August 1901) 1.

L. W. Spayd, “Why Muzzle the Women in Church,” Christian Leader & the Way 18 (17 May 1904) 2.

E. G. Williams, “Woman’s Work,” The Way 5 (3 December 1903) 1045.

Privilege or Silence: Women in Churches of Christ (1897-1907) V

This is my last post on the historical situation of women in the assemblies of Churches of Christ from 1897 to 1907.  You may access the whole series from my serial page.

The Texas Tradition

While the mid and deep South seemed united in the Tennessee perspective, Texas reflected some considerable diversity, even among conservatives who opposed “digression.” J. W. Chism—a leader in the Texas Tradition throughout the late 19th and early 20th centuries (Foy E. Wallace, Jr. as well as R. L. Whiteside were two of his pallbearers at his 1935 funeral)—contended, for example, that “Paul expressly” approved audible female participation in the assembly through prayer and prophesy in 1 Corinthians 11. While a woman may not “take the field as an evangelist, nor any other work of authority,” she may “in a subordinate place…sing, pray and prophesy, and that, too, in the assembly” (FF, 1897, 3).  Chism challenged the Gospel Advocate on the question. He interpreted 1 Corinthians 14:34-35 as a prohibition against disruptive women who interrupted the assembly with their questions. Women, husband permitting, are “at liberty to speak or instruct in the assembly” (GA, 1903, 450).

Another leader in the Texas Tradition, the co-author of the series of books entitled Sound Doctrine with R. L. Whiteside, was C. R. Nichol.  His book God’s Woman created quite a stir in 1938.  Though outside the time frame of this series, C. R. Nichol is an especially important representative of the Texas Tradition. Like Chism, he believed that 1 Corinthians 14 only prohibited those who interrupted prophets with their interrogatories (p. 137) and women did audibly pray and prophesy in the public assembly with covered heads in Corinth (p. 124).  In fact, Nichol explicitly rejects “publicity” as the key hermeneutical criterion since there is no prohibition against the female voice “on the ground that it is public” (p. 123; cf. p. 149). Nichol’s position was consistent with Daniel Sommer’s, including the promotion of deaconnesses (pp. 159-166) and female Bible class teachers even when men are present (pp. 153-54). Despite his stellar reputation among conservatives, he was attacked by both John T. Lewis (Tennessean) and Foy E. Wallace, Jr. (Texan) for these views.

Another interesting window into the Texas Tradition comes through the public disagreemnt between Joe S. Warlick and his wife, Lucy, in the Gospel Guide which Grasham highlighted in his 1999 article “The Role of Women in the American Restoration Movement” (Restoration Quarterly 41.4 [1999] 211-240, esp. 223-225). Though outside the dates for this series, their discussion in 1920 was symptomatic of a continuing move to exclude the female voice in the assembly from the Texas Tradition (and Churches of Christ as a whole). While Mr. Warlick contended that women should be silent in the assemblies, Mrs. Warlick believed women should be permitted to speak to men for “edification, exhortation and comfort” just as women prophesied in the Corinthian assembly. Though Mr. Warlick in 1927 adopted his wife’s position that a woman may speak in “her naturally modest way in any assembly of the saints where rule and authority are not to be administered,” he still contented that leading “public prayer” was not her privilege.  “I have never heard a Christian woman lead a public prayer,” he wrote, “and I hope I never shall.”

One eighty year old father in the faith, William Wise, pleaded for the continued practice of women praying: “I would go farther to hear a devoted sister pray than I would to hear a hired preacher or digressive preacher preach” (FF, 1904, 3). He defended his position with 1 Timothy 2:8-10 where the phrase “in like manner” includes, according to Wise, women in the praying described.

But this was far from unanimous among Texas conservatives (George, FF,1897, 1), and even some, like the editor of the Firm Foundation, objected to appointed deaconesses (Savage, FF, 1903, 4). While Texas as a whole ultimately came to similar conclusions as the Tennessee Tradition regarding female participation in the assembly, the Texas situation was complex than Tennessee and Indiana. It was fluid rather than stable. The Texas Tradition finally closed ranks with the Tennesse Tradition, and the more conservative and now traditional (silence in the assembly except for singing and baptismal confessions) position became the norm in Churches of Christ in the mid-20th century.

Conclusion

The Tennessee Tradition was radically and deeply shaped by the “Cult of True Womanhood” that reigned in the deep South many years past the Civil War. This cultural atmosphere influenced how they read the Bible. It was their fundamental cultural assumption about female inferiority (e.g., will power) that grounded their understanding of male leadership. It seems that this cultural undercurrent did not allow—it was not within their worldview—alternative understandings of the two restrictive texts in the New Testament to get a hearing. The deep cultural mold in which the Tennessee Tradition was forged on the “woman question” was as at least as substantial as any cultural phenomenon that the heirs of this perspective insist inspire contemporary discussions. The “Cult of True Womanhood” in the late 19th century shaped the perspective of Tennessee Tradition as deeply and as radically as any “Feminist” cultural agenda shaped gender debates in the late 20th century. Of course, the truth is that we are all, both past and present interpreters of Scripture, deeply impacted by our cultural context. The value of looking back into this interpretative history is to remind us that they were as culturally situated as we are. This ought to engender humility.

The Tennessee Tradition ultimately won the day, even though it moderated its assault on women in society so that one hears little opposition to female doctors, lawyers and CEOs today. In essence, and quite effectively, the Tennessee Tradition silenced the female voice in the public assemblies of Churches of Christ. Sharing a similar legal hermeneutic that stressed decontextualized positive injunctions/prohibitions and a similar fundamentalist idealization of domesticity, the Texas and Tennessee Traditions converged in the 1910s-1940s on a common front to exclude the female voice from the assembly except for singing and baptismal confessions of faith.  The openness that characterized the northern Sommer-influenced congregations died the death of marginalization as the Southern Churches of Christ overwhelmed them in number, influence and institutional power. Sommer’s position, though largely forgotten except by a few historians, has been unwittingly renewed in some quarters of Churches of Christ in the late 20^th century as a via media between the traditional and egalitarian positions.

References

J. W. Chism, “The Church of God—Her Purposes and How Accomplished—The Woman in the Assembly,” Firm Foundation 13 (7 September 1897) 3.

A. M. George, “That Vexed Question,” Firm Foundation 13 (21 September 1897) 1.

John T. Lewis, “There is Death in the Pot,” Bible Banner 1 (July 1939) 12.

George Savage, “Deaconesses,” Firm Foundation 19 (27 October 1903) 4.

Foy E. Wallace, Jr., “God’s Women Gather,” Bible Banner 2 (November 1939) 15.

Mrs. Joe S. (Lucy) Warlick, “May Women Teach? When? Where?” Gospel Guide 8 (August 1923) 2.

Mrs. Joe S. (Lucy) Warlick, “The Things ‘In Part’ Considered and the Restriction upon Women,” Gospel Guide 11 (May 1926) 3.

Joe S. Warlick, “Editorial,” Gospel Guide 12 (May 1927) 4.

Joe S. Warlick, “Let Your Women Keep Silent in the Churches,” Gospel Guide 5 (August 1920) 2.

William Wise, “Woman’s Work in the  Church,” Firm Foundation 20 (3 May 1904) 3.

Unceasing Prayer: Parable of the Persistent Widow

I have uploaded one of my early articles in Restoration Quarterly to my Academic Page.  The article is a fairly technical discussion of Luke 18:1-8, the Parable of the Unjust Judge or the Parable of the Persistent Widow.  It is available here.

At the heart of the parable is a comparsion between God and the judge, and a comparsion between the disciples and the widow.  If an unjust judge will give a widow what she desires because she wears him out with her persistent pleas, surely God will hear the cries of his people.  If a widow will persistently go before a unjust judge for vindication, surely disciples should cry out to God without ceasing and refuse to giving up praying.

The question mark in this relationship is not whether God will vindicate his elect for surely he will, but the question mark is whether the Son of Man, when he returns, will find “faith” (a people who continually pray) on the earth?

Note: Over the next few weeks or months, I will return to my “first love” (the reason I started this blog) project of attempting to make class materials, previously published materials, etc. available on my blog. One project will take me some time…my dissertation but there is, I’m sure, no rush for that.

Privilege or Silence? Where Did the Articles Go?

They did not disappear into cyberspace. Nor were they removed due to some sinister pressure.

I have removed them out of respect for a potential publisher of the material. The series will be published in a journal this Fall. After publication, I will make the articles available once again.

I appreciate the interest and the articles will reappear in the near future.

John Mark

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice I

Discipled in Family

Text: Luke 2:41-52

Jesus was an apprentice. Like F(f)ather, like son.

He apprenticed with his heavenly Father. He learned obedience by the things which he suffered (Hebrews 5:8-9). He taught and did only what he heard his Father teach and what he saw his Father do (John 5:19). He was the Father’s disciple. Jesus was discipled by the presence of the Holy Spirit in his life as a gift from his Father.

He apprenticed with his earthly (step)father as a carpenter. But he learned much more from his family than being a carpenter. They were devout believers. Jesus participated in the faith traditions of his family. According to the custom, he was circumcised on the eighth day (Luke 2:27).  Every year his parents went to Jerusalem for the Passover. According to the custom, the family journeyed to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover when Jesus was twelve (Luke 2:42). Luke stresses the devout and habitual nature of the family’s faith practice.

Jesus was discipled in the faith of his father and mother, the faith of Israel. He was an obedient son to both his earthly parents and his heavenly father.

His training in the faith is seen by his keen interest in what was taught at the temple. When his parents found him, he was sitting with the teachers—listening, asking questions, and answering questions. He was fully engaged in a search, a yearning to know the God whom he recognized as Father. He did not isolate or withdraw, but sought out the teachers of the law to learn more. This was not a grandiose display of his knowledge to create shock and awe in others, but a devout and healthy fascination with his faith and his God.

Jesus is a human being. He grows up in a family that shapes his faith, customs and understanding. He learned as we all learn, and he grew up as a human being. It was “on-the-job-training” for the Incarnate Word.

Jesus, as human being, was not omniscient. Neither was his knowledge downloaded upon request as if he were Trinity in the Matrix needing to know how to fly a helicopter. His knowledge came like others—through learning, growth, discipling. He grew in his relationship with God and humanity.

As a human being, Jesus “grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God” and the people.

Jesus was apprenticed in his vocation as the Messiah by the Father. He was apprenticed as a child by his parents. He was also apprenticed by the realities of human life in a fallen world—he learned what it was like to be human, depend on God and live in a community of faith.

Jesus was a disciple, too.  We learn how to be disciples from how he was discipled, how he pursued discipleship, and how he modeled discipleship for his disciples.  We, as disciples of Jesus, follow Jesus, the disciple.

Small Group Questions

1. Do you ever imagine Jesus as a little boy? Where does your imagination take you? What is his relationship with his Dad, Mom and siblings like?
2. What does this text tell us about his family relationship? How did this shape his faith development? What does this text reveal about Jesus’ character and devotion?
3. What are some of your family faith traditions that identify you and draw you together as a family in the Lord?
4. Was Jesus an apprentice in his family? What value do you see in thinking about Jesus as an apprentice? What dangers do you see?

Note: This is the first of a series of seven lessons at Woodmont on which Dean Barham, pulpit minister of the Woodmont Hills Family of God, and John Mark Hicks  are collaborating.  It involves homily, small group material and Bible class material. You can hear the sermons on the Woodmont podcast when they become available.  The series begins the first Sunday in February.

Rebaptism: The Real Rub

Throughout 2008 I spent part of my time reading through the major journals of Churches of Christ from 1897 to 1907: Gospel Advocate, Firm Foundation, Christian Leader, Octographic Review, The Way, and Christian Leader & the Way.  I have shared some of my “findings” on this blog and will do more in the future.

Other than the increasing distance between the Christian Church and Churches of Christ (ranging on issues from instrumental music and missionary societies to ecumenical federation with denominational bodies and higher criticism), the most discussed question among Churches of Christ in the papers was rebaptism. I counted over 200 articles–not including notices of debates, books and pamphlets about the subject–from 1897-1907.

The specific question was whether Baptists (or other immersed persons) should be reimmersed in order to receive the “right hand of fellowship” for entrance into a congregation of the Church of Christ. On the one hand, David Lipscomb, James A. Harding, E. G. Sewell, J. C. McQuiddy, Daniel Sommer, and others (including all the editors of the Gospel Advocate) argued that anyone immersed upon a confession of faith in Jesus is a Christian. On the other hand, Austin McGary, J. D. Tant, J. W. Durst, and others (including all the editors of the Firm Foundation) argued that only those immersed with a specific knowledge their baptism was the appointed means of salvation are Christian. This is the most well known difference, perhaps, between the Tennessee and Texas Traditions within Churches of Christ.

This difference generated considerable friction. But where is the rub? Why was it contested so vehemently and passionately? What was at stake? Austin McGary, co-editor of the Firm Foundation, gives us a  feel for how critical this debate was (1898, 284–emphasis mine):

We cheerfully admit that neither the society nor the organ has anything to do with this vile attack upon us by the Advocate. But the trouble between us is traceable to the very same presumptuous spirit that brings the society and the organ into the work and worship of the church. Bros. Lipscomb, Harding and their wicked confederates in this attack upon us claim to speak where the Bible speaks and to be silent where the Bible is silent. But, like Homon and his confederates in advocating the society and organ, they speak where the Bible does not speak, and are silent where the Bible does not speak, in their defense of Baptist baptism….these brethren are tenfold more palpably culpable in their effort to defend their practice of receiving Baptists on their baptism, because, in holding to this practice, they prove that they are willfully going beyond the authority of the Lord.

McGary believed the root was “going beyond the authority of the Lord” on the basic question of who is a Christian. This, to him, was more liberal, damaging and insidious than the society and the organ. McGary thought this would ultimately lead to a “divided brotherhood” just like the instrument and society (FF, 1901, 8).  J. D. Tant, however, was more optimistic after a visit to Nashville and thought that in “fifteen years” churches would no longer receive members on their “sectarian baptism” because “the gospel,” he wrote, was having a ”>leavening influence in Tennessee” (FF, 1899, 23). Tant assessed the trend correctly, though it took much longer than fifteen years.

The “rub” for the Texans was that it expanded the borders of the kingdom beyond those identified with the Churches of Christ. The critical issue was that congregations were receiving unsaved people into their fellowship. This was, as Tant revealed, a gospel issue. At root the Gospel Advocate “was teaching other ways that sinners may be forgiven and enter the kingdom of Christ” (McGary, FF, 1901, 8).

The “rub” for the Tennesseans was the sectarian attitude that undermined the obedient faith of others. Lipscomb stressed that simple obedience to Jesus through faith was all the motive required for effectual baptism (see his “What Constitutes Acceptable Obedience“). To require more is to undermine simple obedience itself because it is no longer faith but education, knowledge and doctrinal precision that determines acceptable obedience. Such a spiral ultimately destroys assurance because when knowledge becomes the ground rather than faith one can never be sure they know enough about their obedience for their obedience to be accepted. A faith in Jesus that moves one to obedience is sufficient faith no matter what else they know or don’t know or even falsely believe about their baptism.

The other part of the “rub” is the sectarianism itself.  According to Daniel Sommer, rebaptists “adopt the sectarian plan of sitting in judgment on the fitness of persons for baptism” (OR, 1904, 3) According to the Tennessee tradition, the kingdom is broader than those who were immersed for the specific purpose of the remission of sins (or to be saved) and they did not believe that all those outside the borders of the “Churches of Christ” were lost (see Harding’s comments). This gracious attitude toward those who walk sincerely among the denominations is what the editors of the Firm Foundation feared because it enlarged the kingdom beyond the borders of their vision of the “Church of Christ.”

The rebaptism controversy was, I think, a struggle within Churches of Christ about the borders of the kingdom of God. It was part of movement toward more pronounced exclusivism within Churches of Christ. While the Tennessee perspective (which was also the view of Alexander Campbell, J. W. McGarvey and Daniel Sommer, which means it is not simply a Tennessee perspective) lost the struggle on this point, it did not die but remained alive in various places among Churches of Christ (e.g., Harding College).  

References:

Austin McGary, “Editorial,” Firm Foundation 14 (13 September 1898 ) 284.

Austin McGary, “The Firm Foundation—Its Aims and Principles,” Firm Foundation 16 (8 January 1901) 8.

Daniel Sommer, “A Letter with Comments,” Octographic Review 47 (2 Feb 1904) 3.

J. D. Tant, “Too Many Papers,” Firm Foundatoin 15 (10 January 1899) 23.

Why Care About Church History or Historical Theology?

I have a vested interest in that question. Partly because I have a Ph.D. in Reformation and Post-Reformation historical theology, partly because I teach academic courses in historical theology, but mostly because I have found the study of historical theology illuminating, liberating and humbling.

Illuminating in the same way that studying my own family of origins shines light on my personal story. The more I understand about my experiences growing up, my own family’s history and the cultural context of those early experiences the more I understand myself. I begin to understand something of why I react at a gut level the way I do. As my unconscious becomes more conscious I am more aware of how many of my feelings and gut reactions are due to earlier experiences rather than reflective engagement with the present. In addition, the more I know about the stories of others, the more I understand them and thus appreciate their journey.

Historical theology can illuminate our theological past; it can describe our theological family of origins. This is a necessary part of developing theological self-understanding. Just as we cannot understand ourselves psychologically without some sense of our family’s history, neither can we understand our own theological proclivities, reactions and preferences without some sense of historical orientation to the faith in which we grew up. It may very well be that the way we read Scripture, what we believe and how strongly we feel about something is more rooted in our history than it is Scripture. If we don’t know our own history–our theological ancestry, we are limited in our ability to understand ourselves as well as others.

Liberating in the same way that acknowleding my family’s past history or patterns enables me to transcend some of the natural pitfalls that are part of my story. Living in ignorance of my own history endangers me since I am unaware of how my lenses have been colored by my own experience or why I react to something so strongly when the present circumstances really do not warrant it. Our own personal stories are often blind to how our histories have shaped us.  Blinded, we are thus shackled by the darkness and come to believe that the way we see it is the only way to see it.

Historical theology can liberate us from the chains that bind us and blind us; it can discern the critical difference between embracing something because it is so familiar or comfortable and embracing something because we have authentically heard an alternative and reflectively chosen to believe what we find most truthful. Discernment involves some kind of historical consciousness since history helps us see alternatives. Without historical perspective we are bound to our own limited perceptions.

Humbling in the same way that recognizing how my father and mother pioneered my faith and life teaches me gratitude. Whatever I am and have become is, in part, due to them. They have taught me, trained me, and guided me. In turn, they were shaped by their parents, and thus so all the way down. I am neither the first nor the center of my family, but one part of its history. I owe more than I could ever give back.

Historical theology can humble us as we learn from students of Scripture and practioners of the faith in earlier ages; they teach us and we are rightly awed by their faith, devotion and thought. We would be the most arrogant of people to think that we have nothing to learn from those who read Scripture and worshipped God in the past. We do not have to reinvent the wheel, but rather humbly acknowledge the gifts God gave to his people in the past, enjoy the benefits of that grace left for us, and use that sacred deposit  in our pursuit of a mature faith.

I research, reflect on and teach historical theology because it illuminates my own journey in faith, liberates me from the chains of my own blindness, and humbles me before the gifts God has previously given to his people. Whether I’m reading Tertullian, Jacobus Arminius, John Wesley, Alexander Campbell, James A. Harding or Thomas B. Warren, I seek illuminating descriptions, liberating discernment and humbling instruction.

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice II

Shaped in Solitude

Then Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from [being baptized in] the Jordan River. He was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where he was tempted by the devil for forty days.    Luke 4:1-2a

Before daybreak the next morning, Jesus got up and went to an isolated place to pray.    Mark 1:35

One day soon afterward Jesus went up on a mountain to pray, and he prayed to God all night. At daybreak he called together all of his disciples and chose twelve of them to be his apostles.    Luke 6:12-13

Baptisms are a time for celebration and community. It is time to party. And we see some of that at the baptism of Jesus—God affirms Jesus’ belovedness. But then there is no party.  The Holy Spirit immediately leads Jesus…not to town, not to a palace, not to a party, but into the desert, the wilderness. Jesus is alone. The Holy Spirit must have thought, I presume, that there was something valuable about solitude.

Throughout his ministry Jesus returned to the desert, to the desolate place. He experienced something there that strengthened him and energized him. He found renewal in the desolate places. It is where he went when he felt pressed by the crowds, when he felt “busy.” It is where he went when he had to make a significant decision like choosing his apostles. It is where he went when he felt overwhelmed by his feelings like in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Sometimes we simply need to be alone. Even with his disciples, Jesus would separate himself from them. Sometimes it is important to be alone even when intimate, close friends are available.

Jesus was comfortable with himself and could be alone. His “alone time” was not loneliness, but solitude. Some people are lonely when they are alone—they are uncomfortable with themselves and they cling to others in needy desperation. Some people are too busy to be alone and even when they are alone they are easily distracted by the busy-ness of life.  Some people don’t want to be alone (certainly not silent) because they are afraid to face their true selves and consequently they need the distractions.

Being alone, however, is more than just being with oneself. Being alone is not loneliness when we find companionship with God in those times. It is not withdrawal in the sense of isolation but the pursuit of God through communion (prayer) for the sake of renewal or recreation.

When we are too busy to “recreate” with God, then life has distracted us from our true essence. When we are too uncomfortable with ourselves, then we have not faced the truth about ourselves in God’s presence. When we are lonely when alone, then we have not embraced the joy of solitude with God.

Jesus pursued God in that solitude. Some of Jesus’ vigils would be early morning, some would be all night. Sometimes something (or someone) is more important than sleep (yes, it is true!). Sometimes prayer was more important than sleep. Has it ever been for you? It was for Jesus.

Jesus found time for solitude. His discipleship began in the desert alone with God. His solitude—his companionship with God—fueled his ministry; it energized his other relationships. If he was discipled by solitude and apprenticed through solitude, perhaps…just perhaps…so should we.

When life is so busy that I am too tired to pray, too tired to sit quietly, too tired to seek God in solitude, then life is too busy. My fatigue has not only a physical but a spiritual root. I have no energy because I am not plugged into the one who is himself Energy. I have no spiritual power because I have no time for God—no time for just him. That is not only too busy, it is idolatry.

Note:  Part I is available here.

Questions for Discussion:

1. Do you think Jesus “needed” those times alone with the Father? What did he “need” and why did he “need” them?
2. Why is it so hard for human beings to be alone without being lonely? Why do we find it so difficult to be alone with God? What distracts us or repels us about spending time alone with God?
3. Do you remember those “all-nighters” you pulled at work or in college in order to get something done, to meet a deadline? Have you ever felt that way about prayer or solitude with God? If you remember an occasion, share it with others.
4. Share with the group what practices or routines you have found helpful? What helps you ignore the distractions and focus on being with God?

Texas and Tenneseee Respond to a Baptism Question

A classic example of the divide between the Texas Tradition and the Tennessee Tradition is the “rebaptism” issue.  I reproduce a particular “for instance” here without comment. In my next post, I will offer a few observations.  Of course, this is but one example of many exchanges which actually began in the 1883 Gospel Advocate when McGary began to push his rather novel understanding and then started the Firm Foundation in 1884 to promote them. So, this is some twenty-two years down the road and the difference was still a wide one.

“The Purpose of Baptism,” Firm Foundation 20.10 (7 May 1905) 4.

Question from J. Wesley Smith of Lynchburg, Tennessee: Bro. Lipscomb: Would I do wrong to be baptized again, since I have been baptized in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, by a Methodist. I did not know at the time that baptism was for the remission of sins, but I did it to obey God. Is it right to make a knowledge of baptism for remission of sins a test of fellowship.

David Lipscomb, editor of the Gospel Advocate: The leading design and purpose of God in dealing with man is to bring man and the world over which man rules into subjection to, and harmony with God. The highest and leading purpose and end of man should correspond to that of God in dealing with man, and be to submit to God as the Ruler of the universe. Only in this way can he secure permanent good to himself and the world. The purpose and desire to obey god is the highest and best pleasing to God of all the motives that lead his subjects to obey His laws. This purpose embraces and overshadows all other motives and ends and leads to an humble and trusting walk with God in all His ways, and to the enjoyment of all the blessings God has in store for those that love and serve Him. This desire to do the whole will of God, and so “fulfill all righteousness,” was the motive that led Jesus, the Christ, not only to be baptized, but this caused Him to leave heaven, come to earth and do and suffer all the will of God God to honor God and bless man.

The nearer we come to be moved by this motive that led Jesus in His word and mission, the better we please God in our service. There are different motives placed before man to lead him to serve God. The lowest is fear; the highest is love. “There is no fear in love; perfect love casteth out fear; because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not perfect in love.” 1 John 4:18. Fear, dread of torment, is a legitimate motive, but it is of the lowest order. It appeals to man in his fleshly state, before the spiritual man is cultivated and developed. But fear must lead to and be swallowed up in love. John warned the Jews to ‘flee the wrath to come.’ This was fear that ‘hathtorment’ dread of punishment. Jesus said: “If a man love Me, he will keep My words, and My Father will love him, and we will come unto him and make our abode withhim.” John 14:23. When they abide with a man, he has no torment; love has cast out dread and torment.

Under Judaism they were slaves, moved by fear; under Christ we are children, to be moved by love. “The heir (or son), as long as he is a child, differeth nothing from a servant, though he be lord of all, but is under tutors and governors until the time appointed of the Father” (Gal. 4:1, 2), which means, under Christ, fear is a needed motive while we are children, but it must grow into love. One moved by the desire to do the will of God is moved by love. One led to be baptized because he desires to do the will of God is moved by love, the higher motive. That is the motive that moved Jesus to be baptized. It is the motive that best pleases God. For a man to ignore and reject a baptism because he was led to it by love for God and a desire to obey Him and displace it by a lower or less motive, begins in the spirit and ends in the flesh. He repudiates the higher service for that less pleasing to God.

This man says when he was baptized he did not understand baptism was for the remission of sins, but he did understand it was a command of God, and he wished to obey Him. I presume, too, he understood that obedience to God was necessary to salvation. If he understood this, he understood about as much of the matter as he understands now. If he understands baptism is for remission of sins in any other sense than that it is a condition–to prove man’s faith and willingness to obey God, he understands it incorrectly. It is a step that brings him into that condition in which God pardons sin and accepts him who believes as a child of God. I doubt if many who insist the understanding it is for remission of sins is essential to its validity understand it right. True it is that God never prescribed such belief as a condition of pardon.

Any baptism to please man displeases God. A baptism or any service to please any church or any persons displeases God. A sectarian baptism is sinful. But a baptism to obey God is not sectarian baptism; it is the baptism of Christ.

Many of the rebaptisms are performed to please those who demand it as a condition of fellowship. In Texas a few months since I learned of a woman who had been baptized and desired fellowship with the disciples. Some objected to here because she had not been baptized among the disciples. She had been baptized to obey God. What kind of baptism would it be? I fear many of them are to satisfy those who demand it. A person ought to have a clear conscience that in all the service he renders he does it from faith in God and to do His will. When he does what God commands from this motive, he may rest secure in the mercy of God.

George W. Savage, editor of the Firm Foundation: The above is given in full from the Advocate, for the Firm Foundation has no inclination to misrepresent old Bro. Lipscomb, for whom Chrisians have the highest regard as a teacher of God’s holy word. But just how a teacher in Israel can so far misrepresent the teachings and commandments of God is a question not well understood. Bro. Lipscomb and Bro. Harding continually call attention to the fact that men should be baptized “to obey God”–just as though God had made this a specific design of baptism. Where in all the realm of David Lipscomb’s reading did he read that baptism is “to obey God?” Why does he reject the expressed scriptural design and call it a fleshly act and substitute in its place a phrase as a design that God nowhere mentions in connection with baptism? Why dodge the issue with the general term “to obey God?” When these breethren say men are to be baptized “to obey God,” they admit that faith in the design, some design, is necessary to the validity of the act. And if faithin the design is necessary, why not place the design there revealed in the Bible and settle the question at once? Men do everything to obey God. We meet on the first day of the week to break bread. In this act we obey God. We do it to obey Him; yet there is a another design coupled directly with, and equally as spiritual as the general term, and that is “to show His deahtill He comes again.” To fulfill this design, Christians work and strive because God has placed it as a design for the act. Does Bro. Lipscomb contend that Christians can acceptably partake of these emblems in the absence of this design? Does it mean simply to take bread and drink wine before the world in an empty form without every effort to keep before them the central truth of the gospel? We are commanded to “take heed unto ourselves and unto the doctrine; continue in them. For in doing this thou shalt both save thyself and them that hear thee.” This is to obey God, too, but God couples with it two specific designs. One is “to save thyself;” the other is to save those who hear us. In doing this to obey God, we do it to save ourselves and them that hear us, for this is what we must do to obey God. In baptism men act “to obey God;” but in acting “to obey God,” they are baptized “for the remission of sins,” for this is obedience to God. The man who is not baptized for the remission of sins does not obey God, for God has told him to “be baptized for the remission of sins.” Acts 2:38. How could he be baptzied “to obey God” and at the same time refuse to do what God says? If you say it is because he is not taught, then it follows that he is not a proper subject for baptism, for Jesus said: “They shall all be taught of God.” John 6:44, 45. “Every one that hath heard and learned of the Father cometh unto Me.” It will not do to rest the excuse on the question of ignorance, and if the candidate is taught of God, not man, he understands the command to “be baptized for the remission of sins.” If he understands it and does not do it, he is not baptized “to obey God.” If he does not understand it and is baptized for some other purpose, he is not taught of God, and the theory of baptizing a man on the manufactured saying of “obeying God” falls by its own weight. Besides, there is not a sectarian baptism in Christendom but what says, it is “to obey God.”

Answering the question, “Is it right to make a knowledge of baptism for the remission of sins a test of fellowship,” Bro. Lipscomb said: “True it is that  God never prescribed such a belief as a condition of pardon.” I now propose to put the two statements side by side and allow the man of faith to decide. The Holy Spirit says: “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost.” Acts 2:38. Bro. Lipscomb says: “True it is that God never prescribed such belief as a condition of pardon.” These two statements are far apart and can not both be right. One is from the God who created me; the other is from Bro. Lipscomb, who is a good but uninspired man. Which is right? I ask you, which is right? If Bro. Lipscomb is right, then men need not be baptized for the remission of sins to be saved. If the Bible language is right, man must be baptized for the remission of sins to be saved, and Bro. Lipscomb, however great he may be, is wrong.

Bro. Lipscomb in the above makes baptism for the remission of sins a fleshly act, because it is not prompted by love to God, and baptism to obey God a spiritual act because it is prompted by love to God. How did Bro. Lipscomb learn that the man who is baptized for the remission of sins, just as God tells him to do, does not love God, and the man who is baptized to obey God because his sins are pardoned does love God. This first does what God says, and the second does what He does not say. Which is the test of love and loyalty to God? Certainly the one that loves God and does what He tells him to do. Jesus said: “He that hath My commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth Me.” Again: “If a man love Me, he will deep My words.” And again: “He that loveth Me not, keepeth not My sayings.” John 14. From this we decide that the man who has the commands and keepeth them is the man that loves Jesus. And the man who does not keep them does not love Him. The test of loyalty and love to God is keeping His commandments. This is what Bro. Lipscomb calls the lowest motive and a dealing in the flesh. Jesus says this man is the man that loves him. Which is right? They can not both be right, for they differ. The man that has the command to be baptized for the remission of sins and does it is the man that loves Jesus. The man that has the same command and does not do it, but does something else “to obey God,” is the man that does not love Jesus, taking Jesus for just what He says. Friends, how can Bro. Lipscomb be right in this? What difference can exist between being baptized to obey God and being baptized to do what He says (for the remisson of sins)? How is it that baptism for the remission of sins because the man does it to keep God’s commands is of the lower order, while baptism because of the remission of sins, rejecting the direct command of God, is of the higher order of faith? The trouble with the man who asked this question is that he was not taught of God. He says so himself. He says he did not know that baptism is for the remission of sins. Not knowing this, he was not taught of God, and had the wrong faith, if he had any. Jesus said: “They shall all be taught of God.” He says he was not taught of God, and therefore, could not in this untaught state come to Christ. His faith was wrong; his baptism was no better than his faith. How could his obedience be right and his faithwrong? It may be true that many are baptized to please the preacher, but this does not answer the question. The question is, must God’s word be ignored, and must all our preaching stand for naught because some people who have been baptized because their sins are forgiven, or for no design at all, are satisfied with their baptism? Let God be true, though every man a liar, and if the truth makes us liars and reads us out of fellowship withGod, we ought not to blame the truth, but turn from our hardened teaching and bow in implicit obedience to Almighty God.

New Items

Tennesee and Texas:  Mac Ice has provided another illustration of the tension between Tennessee and Texas on his blog. While looking into the writings of C. E. W. Dorris, a founding elder of Nashville’s Central Church of Christ in 1925 as well as a student of both Lipscomb and Harding at the Nashville Bible School, he discovered several letters from Dorris to Cled Wallace, the older brother of Foy E. Wallace, Jr., in the Tennessee state archives. The topic is pacifism and the Christian’s relation to civil government–a hot topic, as you might imagine, during World War II. Dorris expresses the astounding opinion (for the time in which it was written) that the Wallace’s hawkish promotion of  the war “will do the cause of Christ much more harm than Bollism ever did” and that their “war baby” has “bad complexion” because it has been fed too much “Texas goat milk.”

Take a look at Mac’s post. Dorris, the author of Gospel Advocate commentaries on Mark and John, thought the warrior posture of the Bible Banner was much more dangerous than the premillennial teachings of R. H. Boll’s Word and Work. That is a good Tennessean (Lipscomb, Harding, Armstrong) sentiment. Thanks, Mac.

R. H. Boll, James A. Harding, and the Nashville Bible School:  I have uploaded to my Academic page the paper I presented at the 1998 Christian Scholar’s Conference at Pepperdine University entitled Boll, Harding, and Grace: The Nashville Bible School Tradition. Some of this material found its way into Kingdom Come, co-authored with Bobby Valentine, but much of it did not. I suggest that one of the differences between the Texas and Tennesee traditions is how they conceived the doctrine of grace. I place this point in context of both eschatology and pneumatology.

Lord’s Supper: I have posted my handouts for the May 1999 Austin Sermon Seminar entitled Preaching the Lord’s Meal on my General page. Much of this material ultimately made it into may book Come to the Table, but there are several sermon or homily suggestions in the handout that are not in the book.

I have long suggested that there is no gospel sermon that could not be linked with the Supper itself because the Table is the gospel in bread and wine. If it cannot be linked, then perhaps it is not a gospel sermon. By “linked” I do not mean a mere addendum as many “invitations” may appear, but rather the theme of any gospel sermon may be experienced in the Supper itself. The Word is then integrated with Act–the Word is experienced as bread and wine (or a table meal, preferably). The gospel message is given concrete form through the welcome, grace and community of the Table.

Patterns and Legalism: Commenting on an FHU Lecture

Cecil May, Jr.–Dean of the V. P. Black College of Biblical Studies at Faulkner University–is a kind, loving Christian gentlemen in the best sense of that term.  He was the first to ever interview me for an academic position just weeks before Sheila died as he was about to become President of Magnolia Bible College.  Later, in 1989, he did hire me as a faculty member at Magnolia.  And, then, he graciously released me from my contract in 1991 as we decided to move to Memphis upon learning of Joshua’s terminal genetic condition.

I have nothing but admiration, gratitude and love in my heart for Cecil May, Jr. And there is absolutely no “but….” I would add to that previous sentence.

I believe he falls in the G. C. Brewer “tradition” or style of thinking and ministry, and I know he would appreciate that categorization as he grew up at the Union Aveune Church of Christ in Memphis, TN. His teaching on grace follows Brewer’s (see my article grace and the Nashville Bible School), his openness to diversity on a range of questions from pragmatic methods to assembly practices (e.g., he doesn’t like singing during the Lord’s Supper but he does not believe it unscriptural) reflects Brewer’s own practical innovations (e.g., introducing multiple cups to the larger brotherhood) and views (e.g., special singing was not prohibited in the assembly in Brewer’s opinion), and his ecclesiological patternism follows Brewer’s own substantively reasoned perspectives (e.g., opposition to instrumental music).

I was reminded of my love for Cecil when he provided a clarification for Todd Deaver regarding Todd’s use of some of his past statements. Todd graciously published it on his website.

I have just listened to his recent lecture at Freed-Hardeman University entitled “Can Patterns Go To Far,” February 3, 2009 at 8:30am. While I would not agree with everything in his lecture (he briefly critiqued Come to the Table while surveying 1 Corinthians 11), I thought he modeled a kind but forthright gentleness in his presentation.  His conclusion was particularly on point and provided a broad common ground for discussion and agreement between (to use the terminology in play at Todd Deaver’s website) progressives and traditionalists.  Below is the last three minutes of his lecture (my own transcription).

To lovingly strive to please God by seeking his pattern in Scripture and to endeavor to live by it is not legalism. Legalism is the notion that we can save ourselves by our own doing either by being correct enough, believing all the right things or being good enough, doing all the right things.

I read something every once in a while that seems to imply that the writer is absolutely certain that he knows everything there is to know and therefore he’s going to be saved because he’s absolutely right about everything. I wish I were that certain about everything I know. I’ve already learned a few things I thought I knew that I realized I was wrong about. And I obviously think that whateverI think I know now is right or I wouldn’t think it anymore.  [Laughter] But I’ve had occasion to learn a few things later and point out somethings that bear on things that I’m not able to be absolutely certain.  Somebody has called me an agnostic over that. I prefer to say that I have a little bit of epistemological humility. Maybe that’s the same thing, but I like the second phrase a little bit better.

And I know that I’m not good enough. You may not know that I’m not good enough, but I know that I’m not good enough to be declared on that basis. We all have sinned. The good news of the gospel is that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scripture. He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree.  With his stripes we are healed. We are not required to be perfectly right or perfectly righteous. We are required to be faithful.  We are saved by grace through faith.

The existence of divinely authorized patterns does not deny the gospel of grace. None of us is perfect either in our actions or in our standards. None of us, some of us are further along in the maturing process than others. Some of us live more correctly by the patterns than others do. Some have had more opportunities to learn than others.  But we’re not saved because we perfectly follow the patterns of Scripture. We are saved by the sacrifice of Christ through our faith in him.

However, patterns for life and conduct in the assembly and outside of it tell us how our Lord would have us to live. When we recognize, listen to this, and remember this if you don’t remember anything else that I said today, when we recognize that he has saved us by his death, when we believe the Scripture is his own revelation of himself and his will, and when in gratitude we search the Scriptures for his will for us in order to conform to it as we understand it and can, that’s not legalism. That’s faith working through love.  Thank you and God bless you.

Amen!

“Pattern,” as Cecil pointed out earlier in his lecture, is a slippery word.  I believe in patterns.  I certainly think Christ is our pattern and I believe the gospel regulates both our assemblies and life (see chapter seven in A Gathered People or some of my previous posts on the topic).  The devil is in the details, precise definitions and hermeneutical methods.  

But the larger point, and more important one, is where Cecil ended his lecture.  It is not legalism to seek patterns or to live by patterns. It is legalism to use those patterns in such a way that they undermine salvation by grace through faith.

Thank you, Cecil, for your life, magnamity and gracious spirit. 

May God continue to use you and bless you, my friend.

P.S. The substance of the lecture is also available in a PDF file here.

Patterns, Legalism and Grace: Alexander Campbell

It is not legalism to seek patterns or to live by patterns.    

It is legalism to use those patterns in such a way that they undermine salvation by grace through faith.

That is my summary of what I thought was the sentiment of Cecil May, Jr.’s concluding comments in his February 3, 2009 Freed-Hardeman Lectureship speech (see my previous post).

In this post and in a subsequent one, I will illustrate how this point has functioned in the thinking of two significant leaders in the Stone-Campbell Movement: Alexander Campbell and J. D. Thomas. Both were patternists (to differing degrees), but did not permit their patternism to trump the fundamental truth of the gospel: we are saved by grace through faith and not by works.

In the 1825 Christian Baptist Alexander Campbell inaugurated his famous series “A Restoration of the Ancient Order of Things.” He thereby introduced “restoration” as a key term in the self-understanding of the Stone-Campbell Movement.  A patternism of some sort inheres in the idea of “restoration” as Campbell used it.

Campbell assumed (1) “there is a divinely authorized order of Christian worship in Christian assemblies” and (2) “the acts of worship on the first day of the week in Christian assemblies is uniformly the same.” The “authorized order” is the “same acts of religious worship” that “are to be performed every first day in every assembly of disciples” (CB 3 [4 July 1825] 164-166). Campbell believed there is a pattern (his favorite word for it, in good Reformed fashion, was “order”). Subsequent essays explained the role of breaking bread (Lord’s Supper), fellowship (contribution), and praise (singing). In addition, the “ancient order” included topics such as congregational polity (bishops, deacons) and discipline.

Campbell’s series intended to identify particulars where the “church of the present day” needed to be brought up to the “standard of the New Testament.” To “restore the ancient order of things” is to “bring the disciples individually and collectively, to walk in the faith, and in the commandments of the Lord and Saviour, as presented in that blessed volume” (CB 3 [7 February 1825] 124-128).

It is clear that the “ancient order” is serious business for Campbell. It is a matter of obedience to the commands of the New Testament. The series was a call to the church of his day to conform to the “order” contained in the New Testament, that is, to conform to the apostolic pattern in the New Testament.

The interesting question, however, is whether he thought the “order” he discerned within the New Testament was a test of fellowship among believers. Did he believe that conformity to this order was necessary to salvation? Was it his intent to identify the marks of the church that defined the true church so that every other body of believers who did not conform to those marks was apostate and thus outside the fellowship of God?

This was implicitly raised in the Christian Baptist by one of Campbell’s critics. Spencer Clack, the editor of the Baptist Recorder, wondered whether Campbell’s “ancient order” functioned similarly to the written creeds to which Campbell mightily objected (CB 5 [6 August 1827] 359-360). Campbell’s response is illuminating. He maintained that his “ancient order” was no creed precisely because he had “never made them, hinted that they should be, or used them as a test of christian character or terms of christian communion” (CB 5 [3 September 1827] 369-370, emphasis mine–and thanks to Bobby Valentine who was the first to call my attention to this statement).

The pattern–the ancient order–was not a test of fellowship. It did not define Christian character. Campbell believed it was biblical and apostolic, but he did not believe obedience to it was a condition of salvation. The pattern was not a soteriological category, but rather an ecclesiological one.

If he did not identify these ecclesiological particulars as tests of fellowship, then what was the purpose of the series? He tells us. He believed that the restoration of the ancient order, though not necessary for fellowship and salvation, was “the perfection, happiness, and glory of the Christian community.” In other words, it was a means toward the unity of all believers. Restoration of the ancient order was not for the purpose determining true vs. apostate churches, but rather to set out a program upon which all believers might unite on the New Testament alone. If everyone would “discard from their faith and their practice every thing that is not found written in the New Testament of the Lord and Saviour, and to believe and practise whatever is there enjoined,” then “every thing is done which ought to be done” (CB 3 [7 March 1825] 133-136). He wanted to “unite all Christians on constitutional grounds” rather than on the basis of human creeds (CB 5 [6 August 1827] 360-61). The “ancient order,” according to Campbell, was the only legitimate (constitutional) and practical means of uniting all Christians, and it enable communities to discard their creeds and stand on the New Testament alone.

Theologically, this essentially means that eccelsiological patterns are matters of sanctification rather than justification (to use the classic terminology of Campbell’s era). The discernment, recognition and implementation of apostolic patterns were matters of growth and maturation. They were not the foundation of the church–who is Jesus, and the confession that he is the Christ, the Son of the Living God–but rather the sanctification of the church in conformity to a constitutional model of reading the New Testament.

Campbell never applied the “ancient order” as either a test of salvation or fellowship.  However, he did attempt to persuade others that a return to the “ancient order” was the way to restore unity to a divided Christianity.

Subsequent participants in the “Restoration Movement” turned the “ancient order” into a test of fellowship as the fundamental identity of the New Testament church, the distinguishing mark between the true church and apostate churches.  That was never Campbell’s intention and he would have regarded it as a subversion of the gospel itself–substituting the “ancient order” for the confession of Jesus as the Messiah as the true test of faith.

Reading the Gospel of Mark

The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God (1:1).

Mark’s first words, in a Roman political and cultural context, are startling. 

“Gospel” was the term used to describe the joyous announcement of imperial news, that is, the Roman Emperor has secured peace, prosperity and security for the known world. “Son of God” was the language of Roman coins, e.g., Tiberius was the “son of God,” the son of the divine Augustus. 

Mark’s Gospel begins as a frontal assault on Roman confidence in their Empire. It is not the Emperor, but Jesus, who is God’s anointed Son. He brings “good news” rather than the Emperor. The narrative of Mark’s gospel unfolds the good news about Jesus the Messiah who is the true Son of God.

The first half of the Gospel of Mark (1:2-8:26) answers the question “Who is Jesus?” with the answer that “He is the Christ (Messiah), the Son of God.”  This means he is healer, forgiver, redeemer, etc.

• The Father declares “You are my Son, whom I love” (1:11)
• An evil spirit cried out, “I know who you are–the Holy One of God” (1:24)
• Jesus said, “So the Son of Man is Lord even of the Sabbath” (2:27).
• The disciples ask, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!” (4:41).
• Legion exclaims, “What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?” (5:7).
• Two feedings of thousands declared his Messianic role (6:30-44; 8:1-13).
• The people said, “He even makes the deaf hear and the dumb speak” (7:37).

The central confession of the Gospel of Mark is Peter’s response to Jesus’ question, “Who do you say I am?”  He answered, “You are the Christ (Messiah)” (8:29).

• The narrative begins with this Christian confession: Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God (1:1)
• The narrative ends with this confession by a Roman soldier: “Surely this man was the Son of God” (15:39).

The second half of the Gospel of Mark (8:31-16:20) answers the question “Who is Jesus?” with the answer that “He is the Messianic servant who dies and rises for our redemption.” He brings a different kind of kingdom into the world. In contrast to the Roman obsession with power, control and violence, Jesus inaugurates a kingdom of service, sacrifice and healing.

• Jesus began to “teach them that the Son of Man must suffer…be killed…rise again” (8:31).
• Jesus forebade discussion of his transfiguration until “the Son of Man had risen from the dead” (9:9).
• Jesus reminds the disciples that “the Son of Man will be betrayed…mock[ed]…flog[ged]…kill[ed]…he will rise” (10:33-34).
• “For the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (10:45).
• The blind man asks, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me” (10:47).
• The crowd praises God acknowledging Jesus’ Messianic entrance, “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David” (11:10).
• Jesus cleanses the temple of God which is a “house of prayer for all nations” (11:17).
• Jesus is the rejected stone of the builders who has become “the capstone” (12:10).
• The Son of Man will “gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth” (13:26).
• Jesus is the sacrificial passover lamb, “Take it; this is my body” (14:22).
• “But the Scriptures must be fulfilled” (14:49).
• The high priest asks, “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed One?”  “I am,” Jesus replied (14:61-62).
• Jesus quotes Psalm 22:1 from the cross (15:34).
• The centurion confesses, “Surely this man was the Son of God!” (15:39).
• “Don’t be alarmed,” the angel said, “Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified…has risen!” (16:6). 

 Some communities of faith, like Harpeth Community Church, encourage the use of the SOAP method of contemplative Bible reading.

Scripture reading–read the text, praying beforehand that God will give wisdom through the Spirit

Observe what is in the text, recognizing how something there captures your attention and your heart.

Apply that observation to your own life, seeking how it might change you.

Pray that God will work that application into your heart and bless your seeking.

As you read through the Gospel of Mark over the next three weeks using the SOAP method, permit me to suggest four questions that might help illuminate the significance of what you read. For every story you read in Mark–or every chapter (whatever your reading method is)–ask yourself these questions.

1. What amazes or astounds you in this story?  The Gospel of Mark uses several words which denote amazement or astonishment. Twenty-four (24) times Mark stresses this response on the part of observers in the story. Something new has broken into the world; something is different; something has changed. God is acting in an astonishing ways through the ministry of Jesus. Watch for the astounding, marvellous works of God in Mark’s story. How has God amazed you?
2. What is faith like in this story?  Sometimes faith is absent;  sometimes it is weak; sometimes it even amazes Jesus himself. The disciples are learning to believe throughout the Gospel–they struggle with understanding Jesus’ teaching, they struggle with their own assurance of salvation, they struggle with embracing their mission, they struggle with loyalty and courage, and they struggle with trust. They struggle to believe. We are each those disciples.
3. Who is Jesus in this story? Every story in Mark contributes to the total picture Mark is drawing concerning Jesus. Each story tells us something about the identity and/or mission of Jesus. As you read each story,  Jesus asks you, “Who do you say that I am?” What you believe about Jesus, whether you trust in Jesus, whether you believe God is truly at work in his ministry, will shape your life. Who do you say Jesus is?
4. What is the good news in this story? The narrative Mark writes is a “Gospel”–it is good news. It is the good newss about Jesus, or the good news that Jesus brings. This stands in contrast with the “good news” of the Roman Empire which claimed to bring peace and security to the world; it stands in contrast with the “bad news” of the human situation where disaster, disease and death reign, where sin and violence dominate. The stories about Jesus in Mark accentuate the good news–God has come to his people to forgive, heal and redeem. How is the story of Jesus good news to you?

The story of Jesus, through the words of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, still lives. His story bears witness to the God who loves, the God who heals our hurts, and redeems our souls. The story of Jesus is good news. It is God’s response to the bad news which surrounds us and infects our hearts.  Jesus is the cure; he is the Messiah, the Son of God.

If we would know peace, joy and healing, if we would know ministry and service, we will follow Jesus. 

Immediately after Peter’s confession and Jesus’ clarification that his mission involves sacrificial suffering and service, he offers this invitation–an invitation for all.

If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it (Mark 8:34-35).

***Sermon delivered at the Harpeth Community Church in Franklin, TN, February 8, 2009***

You can listen to the sermon here.

Patterns, Legalism and Grace: J. D. Thomas

 Patternism and a healthy theology of grace are not mutually exclusive. 

A previous post noted that Alexander Campbell did not make his particular understanding of the apostolic pattern a test of fellowship. The “ancient order” was not a soteriological category for him. Rather, it was a  matter of communal sanctification, a matter of growth, development and maturation. Consequently, he regarded other communities of faith than his own Christian.  What would “all that we have written on the unity of Christians on apostolic grounds” mean, he asked, “had we taught that all Christians in the world were already united in our own community?” (Millennial Harbinger 1837).

In this post I turn my attention to J. D. Thomas (1910-2004), Professor of Bible at Abilene Christian University for thirty-three years. He is the author of probably the most significant hermeneutical manual for Churches of Christ–We Be Brethren (1958).  It assumes (practically everyone assumed it in the 1950s), explains and applies the command, example, and inference (CEI) hermeneutic in some detail. The issue the illicited the book was the raging controversy surrounding institutionalism.

Between 1950-1970 about 10% of Churches of Christ banded together as non-institutional congregations. The issues are both broad and narrow. Broadly, these congregations rejected the cultural assimiliation of Churches of Christ, as they saw it, into the mainstream of American denominationalism. Narrowly, they opposed the use of church funds (collected in the church treasury for kingdom work) to support human institutions (incoporated entitites like schools, children’s homes, mission boards [e.g., sponsoring congregations], or any parachurch organization). To these churches the support of such human institutions to do the work of the church is analogous to the support of missionary societies to do the work of the church.

Churches of Christ were generally agreed upon an apostolic pattern in the 1940s:  five acts of worship (a capella singing, praying, teaching, Lord’s supper, and giving), congregational polity with a plurality of elders and deacons, silence of women in the assembly except for singing, etc. This was supported by the standard hermeneutic: command, example and inference (CEI). But the institutional controversy raised specific questions about how to use church funds and how to apply the received hermeneutic.

Thomas defends patternism, explains the hermeneutic and applies it to institutional issues. Roy E. Cogdill (1907-1985), one of the premier defenders of noninstitutionalism in the 1950s-1960s, reviewed Thomas’ book in 1959. That review, a series of articles, is available here. For Thomas, the NT contains a pattern–”a teaching that is binding or required of Christians today” and the “pattern principle” is “what bound the New Testament characters binds us, and what did not bind them does not bind us.”  And this pattern is “established by command, necessary inference, and example” (p. 254).

Thomas provided guidelines for how to apply the hermeneutic. His book has a glossary to define terms such as “generic authority,” “incomplete command,” “hypothesis of uniformity,” “hypothesis of universal application,” “excluded specific,” “overlapping classification,”  and “expedient.”  Sounds fairly technical, huh? Well, that is the point–Thomas took the standard CEI hermeneutic and gave it a “scientific” formulation in hopes of adjudicating the dispute between institutionalists and noninstitutionalists. My question has become–is reading the Bible for discipleship really that difficult?  See my series on “It Ain’t That Complicated.”

At the same time, Thomas is very concerned that the debate between institutionalists and noninstitutionalists reflects–on both sides–a deficient theology of grace. “Our real problem, and the place where we have become ‘bogged down’,” Thomas writes, “is in our tendencies to Legalism” (p. 119).  And “we should admit that we have all had Legalistic tendencies throughout the whole Brotherhood in tim past” (p. 116).  Hear his plea (239, 241):

The man who has not yet realized what it means that the Christian religion is a non-Legalistic, grace-faith system has not yet been able to be thrilled by its true meaning and beauty…When we truly realize the relatinship of faith and owrks in the Christian system–that we work because of our faith and to complete it, and not because of our relation to the Saviour, we find motivation for working even ‘beyond our power,’ yet with the greatest happiness and joy as children of the Most High God!…Matters such as ‘Love the Lord with all your heart,’ and ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,’ and ‘Christ liveth in me,’ cannot be reduced to little precise legal obligations.  Too many of us have thought of Christianity in too small terms and we have therefore failed to see its majesty and immensity and transcendent grandeur…All of us who have been in the church very long have been guilty of some Legalistic inclinations….none of us are ‘without sin.’ We have all no doubt argued strongly for points that we actually were not able to clearly prove to others. Perhaps there has been a degree of selfishness in the most of us, in being critical of the views of others without the ability to show clearly whereiin we were right. Tolerance, humility and a greater love for the Lord and for each other are in order if we want to solve our problems (and if we want to be saved). We must appreciate the fact that WE do BE BRETHERN, and that the tie that binds us in Christian unity is more important than our opinions.

 J. D. Thomas once told me that he was significantly influenced by the teaching and writing of K. C. Moser and that Moser’s understanding of grace was exactly the same as R. C. Bell, another of Thomas’ heroes in the faith and a primary representative of the Tennessee Tradition.  In fact,  Thomas once recalled that both R. C. Bell and G. C. Brewer were among the few who had a “good comprehension of grace” in mid-20th century Churches of Christ (Firm Foundation, “Law and Grace (2) 100 [23 August 1983] 579). And, I have argued, that it was partly the teaching of R. C. Bell and J. D. Thomas at Abilene Christian University that paved the way for a shift in the Texas Tradition toward a Tennessee (e.g., G. C. Brewer, K. C. Moser, James A. Harding) understanding of grace (see Thomas, The Biblical Doctrine of Grace). This shift, along with the popularity of Moser’s writings, led to “The Man or The Plan” controversy in the early 1960s. [As an aside, Harding College had actually kept this grace tradition alive through the teaching of J. N. Armstrong, Andy Ritchie, F. W. Mattox, and ultimately Jimmy Allen; and Harding College Press actually printed some of Moser's writings in the 1950s.]

My point is that though J. D. Thomas was a good patternist–a defender of patternism and CEI as a sound hermeneutic–he nevertheless preached a healthy theology of grace. The two are not mutually exclusive.

The question to pursue, however, is when does patternism subvert the gospel of grace in such a way that it actually becomes a legalism.  That question belongs to a future post.

I am a Patternist; Yes, Really!

Jesus is the logos (word) of God; he is our pattern, the speech of God. His life is the word of God. He embodies all that God desires.

Disciples of Jesus follow Jesus. They follow him into the water, and are thereby baptized. They follow him into the wilderness, and thus seek solitude with God in the midst of their trials. They follow him into intimacy with other disciples, and thus they seek honest relationships with other believers. They follow him to the table, and thus experience relationship with others and commune with God. They follow him into the world as missional people, and thus are heralds and practitioners of the good news. They follow him into the assemblies of God’s people to praise God, and thus they gather as a community to celebrate the good news of the kingdom. They follow him in pursuing mercy and justice, and thus seek to embody a righteousness that declares that the kingdom of God has arrived. Disciples of Jesus do not follow the church, they follow Jesus and thus become the church–the outpost of the kingdom of God in this broken world.

Patternists are generally concerned about “authority.”  I suggest that what Jesus does is our authority. His actions, teachings and practices authorize as they model how God incarnates himself as the presence of the kingdom of God in the world. We follow Jesus to become kingdom people. We are called to be Jesus in the world for the sake of the world.
 
The Gospels provide the pattern, that is, the ministry and life of Jesus. Acts illustrates how the early church lived out that pattern. The epistles interpret and apply the meaning of the good news of the kingdom for believers living in community. The Hebrew Scriptures give us the lens to read the story of God in Jesus within the frame of God’s story among his people and see the depth of Jesus’ life and teaching.

For example–and issues that are often the focus of patternistic discussions, we are baptized because Jesus was baptized; we eat and drink at the table of the Lord because Jesus did. We discern the meaning of baptism and the Lord’s Supper thorugh the lens of God’s relationship with Israel, what it meant for Jesus within his own ministry, and how it was continued and interpreted in early Christian communities (Acts and Epistles). This is the approach I (along with my co-authors) utilized in my books on table, baptism and assembly.

The pattern for the church is not the historical descriptions in Acts, but the incarnation of God in the person of Jesus. The pattern for the church is the ministry of Jesus. What Jesus began to do and teach, the early church continued.

Some patternists divorce the church from the ministry of Jesus and seek their patterns solely in Acts and the Epistles. Indeed, this was Alexander Campbell’s patternism. But to say that the pattern for the church of Christ cannot be located in Christ’s ministry seems counter-intuitive to me. It is like saying that the church can’t be like Jesus or that Jesus is not the model for the church. How can that be? The church is the body of Christ!

Simply speaking, I would suggest that the pattern for the kingdom of God is anticipated in Israel, fulfilled in the ministry of Jesus, continued (applied and interpreted) by the early church, and brought to fullness (completion) in the new heaven and new earth. For a more detail explanation of this approach, interested persons can read my series on “Theological Hermeneutics” and the series entitled “It Ain’t That Complicated“.

The pattern for the kingdom of God lies on the surface of the story of God–it is the narrative of Jesus’ ministry in a broken world.  But that narrative is rooted in the theology and redemptive history of God’s story among his people–first in Israel, climaxed in Jesus, and practiced by the early church.  Rather than constructing patterns through stringing together isolated texts, I suggest we live out the pattern which is given to us in the narrative of Jesus’ own life.

New Items Posted

As I continue to post previously published materials to this website, I have added the following.

1.  I have added an Evangelical Theological Society (1995) presentation that was subsequently published in The Journal of the American Society for Church Growth in the Spring of 1997.  It is entitled Numerical Growth in the Theology of Acts: Pragmatism, Reason and Rhetoric.  The first half of the article demonstrates–at least to my satisfaction–that Luke’s emphasis on numbers and growth in the early part of Acts is a fulfillment motif.  Just as God multiplied the creation through Adam and Eve, and multiplied Israel as his redeemed people, so he mulitplied the church. The second half of the article looks at Paul’s sermon for the philosophers in Acts 17 on Mars Hill. Paul’s sermon illustrates how he used contemporary tools and methods (including rhetoric) to present the gospel. The church, in its missionary outreach, must effectively use the tools and gifts God gives it to communicate the gospel, and especially those gifts and tools that participate and connect with culture.

2.  I have added a presentation given at the 1995 Harding University Graduate School of Religion Preacher’s Forum that was subsequently published in Building a Healthy Minister’s Family (Nashville: Gospel Advocate, 1996), pp. 51-74.  My article is entitled Sexual Ethics in Ministry. The article is divided into three sections:  (1) Conviction: A Theology of Sex; (2) Commitment: A Sexually Healthy Marriage; and (3) Circumspection: Sexual Sensitivity. 

In particular, William Arnold (Pastoral Responses to Sexual Issues [Louisville:John Knox Press, 1993], 48-52) suggests five boundaries for ministers which must never be crossed. If we cross any one of them, we ought to step back from that relationship and reflect on God’s story again. If we cross them, we need to renew our covenant with our spouses and redouble our commitment to those boundaries. First, there is the boundary of “space.” We must be careful where we meet with a congregant. The place will signal certain messages. There is a vast difference, for example, between meeting in the minister’s office and meeting at a hotel or at a congregant’s home. Second, there is the boundary of “time.” When we begin to spend excessive time with a congregant, then we ought to pull back. When we begin to spend four or five hours a week with a person, and we only see our spouses an hour each evening, then danger signals have appeared. We would need to restructure our time with family and significantly decrease our time with the congregant. Third, there is the boundary of “language.” When language becomes too intimate, or when language is interpreted intimately, then we need to clarify the relationship between ourselves and the congregant. Intimate language breeds physical intimacy. Fourth, there is the boundary of “touch.” While hugs and pats on the back are common in closely-knit congregations, hugs, pats and kisses are inappropriate in counseling or private contexts. The nature, timing and place of a touch communicates volumes and dangerously opens up the possibility of sexual temptation. Fifth, there is the boundary of our own “feelings.” If we sense a sexual attraction toward another person, then we continue to meet with them to our own peril. We must be careful what we think or feel because they are the beginnings of our actions. We need to be honest with our feelings, and remember our commitment to God’s story and our own marriages. Sometimes “feelings” cannot be controlled, but behavior and covenantal commitment can put those “feelings” into proper perspective. Once one begins to develop these “feelings,” the relationship with the congregant must be ended or it will develop to our own destruction.

The problem, of course, is that we sometimes cross the boundaries without even realizing it.  Consequently, it is important to have confidants with whom we can talk–a group of same-sex friends with whom we are open, transparent and vulnerable.  They will see these boundaries crossed before we will, and we must have the humility and the courage to listen and submit to their input.

3.  I have added my 1994 presentation at the Freed-Hardeman University Lectures that was published in the 1994 lectureship book.  The article is entitled Worship in the Second Century Church. The article discusses the value of studying second century liturgy as “foreground” (Ferguson’s term), the liturgical description of Justin Martyr in his Apology and the liturgical description of Tertullian in his Apology. Justin and Tertullian are the most extensive descriptions we have in the second century. Both were explaining the content and procedures of Christian assemblies in order to demystify them for outsiders (and potential persecutors).

4.  I have linked my website with two podcasts of recent sermons. One at Woodmont at the end of 2008 (a blog summary is available at “I will Change Your Name“) and another at Harpeth Community Church on 02/08/2009 (a blog summary is available at “Reading the Gospel of Mark“).

These are my offerings for today.  :-)

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice III

Shaped by Intimacy

[ The sermon version of this small group study is available here].

Jesus lived with twelve disciples. He travelled with the twelve, ate with the twelve, taught the twelve, sent the twelve out to herald the good news and heal the sick, and prayed with the twelve. There were times when he prayed with the twelve and no one else.  “One day Jesus left the crowds to pray alone. Only his disciples were with him” (Luke 9:18). But there were other times when Jesus was only with the three.

We might compare the twelve to a kind of task-oriented small group. It was training ground for the twelve and Jesus was their discipler and teacher, but–as we shall see in the next lesson–it was a group in which Jesus was himself apprenticed as well. But the three is something different. In a group of three or four, intimacy can happen in ways that does not usually happen in a group of twelve or more.

Intimacy defies definition. It is a subjective, personal experience of being in relation with another. It enables one to actually see into the other:  “into-me-see” or intimacy. It is sharing ourselves, our experiences, our feelings, our secrets, our lives.  It is letting another person into our real selves–to let them see how we see truly see ourselves. Obviously, then, intimacy needs safety; intimacy only happens in safe places with safe people. It only happens where there is trust. And it usually only happens within a small group (three to five people) or with a few people.

Jesus built this kind of intimacy with Peter, James and John. He shared life with them in more intimate ways than he did the twelve, according to the record we have. He took them places and did things with them that he did not do with the twelve. Jesus built an intimate trust with those three.

When they arrived at the house, Jesus wouldn’t let anyone go in with him except Peter, John, James and the little girl’s father and m other. (Luke 8:51)

We build intimacy with others through shared experiences. For some reason, which is not explained in the text, Jesus did not take the twelve into the daughter’s room. He only took Peter, James and John. He shared something with them that deepened their friendship and developed intimacy through shared experience. We partner with each other in a task, or spend time with each other in personal, tragic or thrilling moments. Through the shared experiences we learn to trust each other as we see each other coping with reality.

Jesus took Peter, James and John into the inner sanctum of his miracle-working on this occasion. He shared this liberating, amazing  and thrilling moment with them. The shared experienced bonded them in ways that only experiences can. The utter ecstasy and joy of seeing this adolescent girl come back to life seared this moment in their group consciousness. It was an intimate moment between them.

Jesus took Peter, John and James up on a mountain to pray. And as he was praying, the appearance of his face was transformed, and his clothes became dazzling white. (Luke 9:28-29)

We build intimacy with others through shared strength. The Transfiguration takes place immediately after Jesus begins to tell his disciples that he is going to Jerusalem to die. This moved their relationship to a deeper level and it must have generated stress, confusion and alarm among them. As he faced this final journey to Jerusalem, Jesus needed affirmation and blessing. The Transfiguration was a divine affirmation and blessing: “This is my Son whom I love.”

Jesus brought Peter, James, and John with him as a small prayer group, and God showed up. Together, as an intimate group, the four are strengthened, renewed and affirmed by the divine presence. Jesus finds strength not only in the divine presence but a divine presence experienced in community with his intimate friends. They share this moment of strength, affirmation and blessing. They are mutually encouraged and strengthened.

He took Peter, James and John with him, and he became deeply troubled and distressed. He told them, “My soul is crushed with grief to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me. (Mark 14:33-34)

We build intimacy with others through shared feelings. Jesus had just come from an emotional last supper with the twelve (Judas had betrayed him, the disciples had argued about who was the greatest, Jesus had washed their feet) and had walked over to the Garden of Gethsemane with the eleven during which Peter and the rest pledged their loyalty to the death (but then they failed to keep their promises). He took the three deeper into the garden than the other disciples. He would lean on them for support in more intimate way than the other eight.

Walking with the three Jesus begins to feel the enormity of what is about to happen. His spirit is troubled–even frightened–and overwhelmed. Grief and sorrow flood his heart; it crushes him to the point that he wishes he were dead.  He agonizes over his decision to submit to the will of the Father. Astoundingly, he confesses the depth of his feeling to his intimate friends; he reveals his true self. He shares his feelings with them. He wants his friends to “watch with him”–to share his feelings, to pray with him, to be there for him. He needs a listening ear; he needs the support of his intimates.

Jesus needed the intimacy of human companionship. He would not be authentically human otherwise. God did not create us to live in isolation from others. Rather, he built into us a bonding mechanism that connects with other people. This can become unhealthy (as in codepenency), but connection with other people is necessary for personal, mental and spiritual health. Humans are meant to live in relation with others just as the Triune God is community-in-relation. When these relationships remain superficial we lose what God intended intimacy to provide.

Human intimacy provides authentic relationship, accountability in living, support in times of need, companions to share the joys, and the ability to live without secrets. Jesus nurtured this kind of intimacy with Peter, James and John. His apprenticeship in human intimacy offers us a model.

The journey into intimacy is difficult. It is sometimes disappointing–even as it was for Jesus himself.  But any other journey is lonely, fearful and isolating. We cannot become what God intends without intimacy with others. Without intimacy–at some level–we become a facade, a Hollywood front and we live with a divided self. We let others see one self, but the real self we keep hidden.  We really don’t want anyone to see us as we really are–we really don’t want intimacy–because we fear their rejection and disappointment. But we cannot truly be ourselves without others–a few–knowing us.

Do you have people with whom….

you can express your deepest and most authentic feelings?

you can tell your darkest secrests?

you feel safe talking about your relationships?

you can confess sin?

you can let your guard down and be truly real?

 Questions:

1.  Why do think Jesus sometimes separated the “three” from the rest of the “twelve”? What was significant about each of the three occasions noted in the lesson?

2.  Why does Jesus “need” intimacy? Or, does he? What does his need for human companionship tell us about our need for intimacy?

3.  What does intimacy mean for you? Why is it so difficult to experience? Why do we fear it?

4.  What parameters are necessary for authentic intimacy? What are the “ground rules” of intimacy?

5.  How might we develop intimate relationships with others? What strategies would be useful?

When Patternism Subverts Grace

If the life and ministry of Jesus is our pattern, then we all fall woefully short.

Consequently, whether it is conforming our character to the image of Jesus or embodying the ministry of Jesus through the church, we all–individuals and congregations–need divine mercy since we all fall woefully short of the image of God in Jesus.

While I am a patternist, I am not a perfectionist in either ethics or ecclesiology. Not all patternists are perfectionists (or legalists). Patternism per se neither entails legalism nor perfectionism. If it does, then everyone who believes that we are called to conform to the image (pattern) of Jesus is either a legalist or a perfectionist or both.

Legalism arises when the quantity, level and progress of sanctifiction is made a condition of communion with God.  Libertinism (or antinomianism) appears when sanctification is so disconnected from faith (seeking and trusting God) that whether we seek sanctification or not is inconsequential.

Ecclesiological perfectionism is when the understanding and practice of a set of ecclesiological patterns are made conditions of communion with God such that without perfect or precise compliance to those patterns (however they are defined) there is no hope or promise of salvation. 

In contrast I would suggest that perfect or precise compliance to ecclesiological patternism–like ethical conformation to the pattern of the life of Jesus–is not a condition of communion. Rather it is a matter of sanctification as we are conformed more closely to the image of Christ, both corporately and individually. To more closely conform to an ecclesiological pattern (however that is concieved or defined) is a matter of communal sanctification. It is a process, not an event. As a process, sanctification will never be perfect or 100%.

At the same time such conformation is something that faith seeks because we want to be like Jesus. When we refuse to conform to what we know that is rebellion. Insubmissive (rebellious) faith is not faith since faith involves trusting in Jesus and submissively pursuing God’s will in our life however imperfectly we may do that.

Ecclesiological patternism subverts grace when perfect obedience to a set of patterns for the church becomes a test of fellowship or a condition of communion with God. Ecclesiological patternism then becomes ecclesiological perfectionism. I define “perfect obedience” as precisely meeting a set of criteria for ecclesiological practice which distinguish between the “faithful” and the “unfaithful” (thus “apostate” which amounts to a “different religion” [see Jay Guin's assessment of Greg Tidwell's use of this language]).  In this context our faithfulness, rather than the faithfulness of Jesus, counts as our righteousness and salvation; it demands perfect obedience in order to measure up to the standard–we keep the pattern or there is no hope! This kind of ecclesiological patternism stresses that if we are guilty in one point, we are guilty of the whole. If a congregation is missing one mark of a true church, then it is a false church. This is ecclesiological perfectionism.

So, for example, if the ecclesiological criteria include observing the Lord’s Supper every Sunday and only on Sunday, then “perfect obedience” would mean that only those who eat every Sunday and only on Sunday are faithful and everyone else is unfaithful (apostate).

Or, for example, if the ecclesiological criteria include singing a cappella, then “perfect obedience” would mean that only those who sang a cappella are faithful and everyone else is unfaithful (apostate).

Or, for example, if the ecclesiological criteria included the absence of the female voice except in singing, then “perfect obedience” would mean only those assemblies where women were silent are faithful and everyone else is unfaithful (apostate).

I would suggest–without debating the merits of the examples above as parts of a biblical pattern–that ecclesiological patternism belongs in the category of communal sanctification. It is a process of growth, maturation and progressive conformation to the image of God in Christ.  Consequently, it is not so much about who is faithful and unfaithful (that is, who complied with the precise conditions of the pattern and who did not) but about orientation, direction and the submissive nature of their faith and heart. Faithfulness and unfaithfulness is more about faith itself than the accumulaton of specific acts of obedience or failure.

Moreover, I would suggest that there are more important questions in ecclesiological patternism than the frequency of the Lord’s Supper or the nature of music in the public assembly.  If ecclesiological patternism means engaging a process of conformation to the image of Christ, then here are few more important dimensions of the “pattern” than frequency and music style. Such as:

• relationship with the poor (the pursuit of mercy)
• the communal use of funds for ministry
• advocacy for the oppressed, marginalized and excluded (the pursuit of justice)
• leadership models within the community of faith
• relationship with enemies
• opposition to suffocating traditionalism that hinders the kingdom of God
• outreach to the sheep without a shepherd or the lost

What I know is that I fall woefully short of these Christological patterns in my own life and in my community. I cannot soothe my imperfections by noting how well or precisely I comply with other dimensions of the pattern (e.g., Lord’s Supper and singing). However, by grace through faith, God is working with and in me to transform me into Christ’s image.  I am in process and I am not perfect.  I am neither perfectly obedient nor do I obey perfectly.  On the contrary, I submit my will to the process of God’s sanctifying work through faith and God redeems me by his grace through faith.

Patternism subverts the grace of God when it makes conformation to the pattern (however defined) as a condition of communion rather than as the fruit of God’s sanctifying work among his people through faith. Grace through faith is the means by which we commune with God and our conformation to the pattern of God in Jesus through the power of God’s Spirit is the means by which we become more and more like him. We are saved by grace through faith and works (sanctification) is the fruit of that communion with God.

I do not offer this post as definitive or indubitable.  Rather, it is only my thinking at this moment. It is part of my own sanctification as I reflect on the situation of fellowship within Churches of Christ.  I have hopes that the “Grace Conversation” website may yet be productive of mutual understanding. My next post will include a few historical reflections of where we are now as opposed to where we were 100 years ago in relation to ecclesiological perfectionism.

[I first offered some of this kind of soteriological reflection in my 1992 "Grace, Works and Assurance: A Theological Framework.]

Patterns, Perfectionism, Grace and the Tennessee Tradition

If the life and ministry of Jesus is our pattern, then we all fall woefully short in every way.

Moral Patternism. We rarely have a difficult time hearing that we are imperfect in terms of morality since we are well aware that we fail to image the character of Jesus in so  many ways–internally and externally. We all recognize the need for divine mercy.

David Lipscomb recognized that moral imperfection is covered by the righteousness of Christ, that is, the gracious provision of God’s faithulness in Jesus. Commenting on Philippians 3, he wrote (pp. 205-206):

Even when a man’s heart is purified by faith, and his affections all reach out towards God and seek conformity to the life of God it is imperfect. His practice of the righteousness of God falls far short of the divine standard. The flesh is weak, and the law of sin reigns in our members; so that we fall short of the perfect standard of righteousness; but if we trust God implicitly and faithfully endeavor to do his will, he knows our frame, knows our weaknesses, and as a father pities his children, so the Lord pities our infirmities and weaknesses, and imputes to us the righteousness of Christ. So Jesus stands as our justification and our righteousness, and our life is hid with Christ in God.

Recognizing our sinfulness and infirmity, God graciously “imputes to us the righteouenss of Christ” as “we trust God implicitly and faithfully endeavor to do his will.” The gracious love of God covers our sins and weakness as we “trust God” and “endeavor” to obey him. I think that is pretty significant. It is not that we actually do obey him in every thing or most things, but that we trust him and seek to obey him. We trust and obey but recognize that our trust is often weak and our obedience is always imperfect.

Similarily, in spite of his daily desire to be holy, James A. Harding believed that “perhaps hourly, and sometimes many times in an hour, in some of these ways I sin.” Harding had no illusions of moral perfectionism. But this did not undermine his assurance since he recognized that his weaknesses were covered by the grace of Jesus Christ. He wrote (1883, 442):

Now, under Judaism the principle which obtained was, ‘Do and live.’ As no man could do right, no man could find life. Under Christianity no man can do right anymore than he could under Judaism. The commandments of the decalogue, except the fourth, are just as binding as ever. Who, after reading the sermon on the mount, can imagine that the standard of right is in any wise lowered? But by the death of Christ a provision was made for our weaknesses and imperfections which did not exist under the law. The Christian has precisely the same sort of struggle as did the faithful Jew in trying to do the will of God….but in Christ there is no condemnation; in him all these shortcomings are overlooked; in him our sins are blotted out…The Christian remains in Christ just as long as he “wills to do his will;” as long as he strives earnestly and prayerfully against the world, the flesh, and the devil.

This language is common in Harding. Our works do not save us, but God saves us through faith in Christ.  It is a faith that “wills to do his will” even though we imperfectly do his will.  It is a faith that “strives earnestly and prayerfully” even though we often fail. When it comes to moral imperfections, God graciously and mercifully forgives our ignorance and weaknesses for the sake of Christ. If we are in Christ, “whether [we sin] in ignorance, weakness or willfulness,” God “holds nothing against us” (1903, p. 401).

Moral patternism did not entail perfectionism, according to Lipscomb and Harding. We are all far from perfect–our ignorance, our weaknesses, even our willfulness, means that God’s mercy would have to overlook our shortcomings for the sake of Christ if any of us would ever have any assurance of salvation.  And, according to Lipscomb and Harding, he does this as long as a faith that trusts God and seeks him remains even when that trusting and seeking is imperfect.

Positive Patternism. But Lipscomb and Harding sing a different tune when it comes to the positive laws that govern ecclesiology (and this is genernally true of  Churches of Christ as a whole in the first half of the 20th century). [On the distinction between moral and positive law in the Stone-Campbell hermeneutics, see an earlier post of mine.]

Here perfectionism–in some form–is expected and functions as a test of fellowship between believers. If a fellow believer is not perfect in his positive obedience to the positive laws of the New Testament, then the faithful must separate from him. For example, as it has been subsequently applied by many, if a congregation does not observe the Lord’s Supper every Sunday, then they rebel against the positive law of the New Testament (taught by example in Acts 20:7) and it thereby becomes apostate.

While debating the Baptist Moody in 1889 Nashville on the design of baptism, Harding introduced the distinction between moral and positive law (baptism is the latter). His characterization of the distinction and its significance is illuminating (256-257, emphasis mine):

While the positive law is not right in the nature of things (in so far as mortals can see), but it is right because it is commanded. Baptism and the Lord’s Supper under the new covenant, and the ceremonial law of the Jews under the old covenant, are illustrations of positive law…Positive law differs from moral law in that it can be obeyed perfectly. Positive law is therefore a more perfect test of faith and love, a more perfect test of allegiance to God, than moral law…For these two reasons, doubtless, God has ever been more ready to overlook the infractions of moral, than of positive law; and for the same reasons the positive is peculiarly adapted to the expression and the perfection of faith. I would not have you suppose that I think God would for a moment tolerate a willful violation of moral law. No, no; I simply mean that God, who knows so well our inherited weakness, is patient and gentle with us in our imperfect obedience to this law, and in our many backslidings from it. But positive law we can obey perfectly, and he is strict and stern in demanding that we shall do it.

The application is apparent. God is gracious toward our moral failings because he understands our weaknesses and our inability to obey moral law perfectly. He understands our sanctification will be slow and progressive due to our weaknesses. However, God is stern and unyielding in his insistence on obedience to positive law because we can obey it perfectly. Positive law has such clarity that there is no misunderstanding it. One can be immersed—the command must be obeyed as stated.

This explains why God can act with such grace and forgiveness toward the moral failings of David, but at the same time remove Saul from his kingship for positive disobedience and instantly kill Uzzah. Saul and Uzzah “violated a positive law.” God can bear with the moral failings of his people because of their weaknesses, but God will not tolerate the violation of his explicit positive laws. Old Testament examples testify to God’s sternness. The Old Testament teaches the church to respect the sanctity of positive law.

Positive patternism entails some sort of perfectionism.  Ignorance, weakness, and certainly willfulness, was no excuse and no divine mercy is promised. Positive disobedience, whether out of ignorance, weakness or willfulness, is disloyalty and rebellion. Even if a faith was present that trusted God and sought to obey him according to what was known, it was not enough. Postive disobedience meant that faith was insufficient because their obedience was not perfect enough; their faith could not save them because of their positive infractions or imperfections.

Contrasted.  While the mercy of God for Christ’s sake was sufficient to forgive moral sin through a faith that trusted God and sought to do his will however imperfectly, the mercy of God for Christ’s sake is not sufficient to forgive positive sin through a faith that trusts God and seeks to do his will because that faith did not obey the positive law perfectly. Therefore, perfect positive obedience is necessary for salvation whereas perfect moral obedience is not. The grace of God covers moral imperfections but it does not cover positive imperfections.  

This fundamentally proposes, it seems to me, a God who values sacrifice more than mercy. 

Why are not the positive imperfections covered by the faithfulness of Christ for those who “trust” God and seek to do his will just like the moral imperfections? Are we not are saved by grace through faith rather than by faith through perfect positive obedience to a graciously lowered standard?

May God have mercy.

P.S. For those interested in a fuller discussion of the moral/positive distinction, see my article on Harding’s use of this distinction.  For those interested in a fuller discussion of grace through faith, see my presentation at Harding University Graduate School of Religion.

References

David Lipscomb, Ephesians, Philippians and Colossians, A Commentary on the New Testament Epistles, 4, edited, with additional notes by J. W. Shepherd (Nashville: Gospel Advocate, 1957).

J. B. Moody and James A. Harding, Debate on Baptism and the Work of the Holy Spirit (Nashville: Gospel Advocate, 1955 reprint).

James A. Harding, “Scraps,” The Way 4 (26 February 1903) 401.

James A. Harding, “What I Would Not, That I Do,” Gospel Advocate 25 (11 July 1883) 442.

Comment on Rebaptism Articles

In my previous post, I repoduced two responses to a question asked by J. Wesley Smith of Lynchburg, TN, in 1905.  He asked:  “Is it right to make a knowledge of baptism for remission of sins a test of fellowship?”

David Lipscomb, editor of the Gospel Advocate, answered in the negative and George W. Savage, editor of the Firm Foundation, answered affirmatively. Those polar opposite responses represented the real danger of a significant division among Churches of Christ in the late 19th and early 20th centuries on that precise question.

But my interest is not so much in the potential division or the explicit answers to the question. Rather, I am interested in the theological method each used to answer the question.

On the one hand, David Lipscomb started with a theocentric principle that Jesus fulfilled. The “desire to obey God is the highest” motive as this “leads to an humble and trusting walk with God” and “to the enjoyment of all the blessings God has in store for those that love” him.

This motive was enacted by Jesus and he thus modeled it for all his disciples. Jesus was baptized to obey God, to “fulfill all righteoueness.” The baptism of Jesus testifies to the authentic and central nature of this motive. Jesus was not baptized for the remission of sins, but to obey God. Jesus loved the Father by obeying him.

Further, when people are motivated by love (the core value in obeying God) rather than by fear (to escape hell through the remission of sins), they imitate Jesus and exhibit the “higher motive.” When one’s baptism is rejected because it was motivated by the “higher” motive rather than the “lower” one, it undercuts the baptism of Jesus himself since this “is the motive that moved Jesus to be baptized.” At the same time, if one is baptized simply for the remission of sins without a sense that this obedience to God–as if one is baptized simply to escape hell or simply to have their sins remitted–this is an improper approach to baptism. It turns baptism into an expiatory rite.

Lipscomb’s argument is rooted in God, Christ and the central value of loving God. It is, essentially, a theological argument.

On the other hand, George Savage is concerned primarily with a single text: Acts 2:38. His argument is radically textual and rooted in understanding “for the remission of sins” as part of the command to be baptized. For Savage the command is not “be baptized,” but “be baptized for the remission of sins.” Obedience, then, entails an understanding that this obedient act involved a movement from lost to saved, from sinner to saint, from guilty to forgiven. If believers do not understand that baptism involves that transistion, then their baptism is invalid because they were not taught correctly.

Construing “for the remission of sins” as part of the command itself, he atomizes this text so that it stands in isolation from the theology of baptism. In essence, by lifting a singular phrase from the text and giving it an absolute meaning indepedent of the context and biblical theology as whole, his argument is a proof-text. His construal of the text, then, becomes a measuring rod for everything else one might possibly say about baptism. Whatever else may be true about baptism, it is fundamentally true for Savage that only those who are “baptized for the remission of sins” are truly baptized.

He does not grasp Lipscomb’s theological argument about love and fear in terms of the motive of obedience. Savage simply flattens everything into obedience and says that the motive must be more than obedience. Thus, he makes room for the atomized text, Acts 2:38, to judge every baptismal response to God. Obedience is a given, but the specific design is something that is equally necessary to true obedience. Obedience is insufficient per se–it must be obedience for the specific design God intended in that ordinance. It must be obedience with understanding–a very specific understanding that Acts 2:38 dictates.

Difference. Part of the faith of baptism for Savage, then, is a faith in the design of baptism, that is, believing what baptism effects. For Lipscomb it is simply trusting in God’s saving work through Christ as we act in obedience. For Savage faith is partly an intellectual affirmation of the true understanding of baptism’s specific design. For Lipscomb faith is personal trust in God as one acts in obedience to the command of God to be baptized.

The nature of baptismal faith has a different meaning for Lipscomb and Savage. Lipscomb’s sense of faith is oriented toward God as trust and follows Jesus’ own baptism; “it is the baptism of Christ.” Jesus’ own baptism is Lipscomb’s model for effectual baptism. Savage’s sense of faith is oriented toward a particular intellectual understanding of baptism; “faith in the design” is “necessary to the validity of the act.” That faith is not a personal trust, but an intellectual assent to a specific teaching about baptism. Lipscomb begins with Jesus whereas Savage ends with a specific intellectual understanding (it is “faith in the design”!).

This exchange illustrates, to some degree, how soteriology (and a theology of grace) differ between the Tennessee Tradition (Lipscomb) and the Texas Tradition (Savage). Lipscomb’s soteriology is grounded in a personal trust in God’s work exhibited through loving obedience while Savage’s soteriology involves a creedal affirmation of a specific design for baptism rather than simple trust in Jesus. Lipscomb follows Jesus but Savage authors a creed to be signed by a baptismal candidate.

Lipscomb is true to the heritage of Alexander Campbell’s restoration agenda on this point. For Campbell the only required faith for baptism was the credo:  “I believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God.”  Savage continues McGary’s hijacking of the Restoration Movement to serve a sectarian end so that the credo for baptismal faith is no longer centered on Jesus but on what one believes about the design of baptism.

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice IV

Living in Community

While Jesus apprenticed in his humanity as he was discipled by his Father, he did not live in isolation from others. Quite the contrary, he travelled throughout Palestine with his twelve apostles and a group of supportive women (Luke 8:1-3). Jesus mentored them, taught them, and prayed with them (Mark 4:34; Luke 9:1-2, 18). As a human being, he lived in community with other humans.

In this Jesus models communal living for contemporary followers. The Twelve with Jesus are, in essence, a functional small group—they are sometimes task-oriented (e.g., mission), sometimes focused on spiritual formation practices (e.g., prayer), sometimes a learning community (e.g., Jesus teaches). They are a “small church” of sorts, at least a small group much like many larger congregations encourage.

While living in community has wonderful rewards, it can also be frustratingly difficult and discouraging at times. This was something that Jesus also learned and experienced as he lived in community with his disciples. His community was, at times, emotionally taxing and aggravating. Does it sound like any community you know?

Mark 8-10 (with Mark 14:4 added in for good measure) wonderfully illustrates the frustration of living in community. The disciples argue with each other about who is the greatest, they get angry with each other, they misunderstand Jesus’ mission, they fail to act in faith, they protect Jesus from children(!), and they want to sit in seats of honor rather than wait on tables.

At this the disciples began to argue with each other because they hadn’t brought any bread. Jesus knew what they were saying, so he said, “Why are you arguing about having no bread? Don’t you know or understand even yet? Are your hearts too hard to take it in?”  Mark 8:16

Jesus said to them, “You faithless people! How long must I be with you? How long must I put up with you? Bring the boy to me.”  Mark 9:19

Jesus asked his disciples, “What were you discussing out on the road?” But they didn’t answer, because they had been arguing about which of them was the greatest. He sat down, called the twelve disciples over to him, and said, “Whoever wants to be first must take last place and be the servant of everyone else.”  Mark 9:33-35

One day some parents brought their children to Jesus so he could touch and bless them. But the disciples scolded the parents for bothering him. When Jesus saw what was happening, he was angry with his disciples. He said to them, “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of God belongs to those who are like these children.”  Mark 10:13-14

James and John replied, “When you sit on your glorious throne, we want to sit in places of honor next to you, one on your right and the other on your left…When the then other disciples heard what James and John had asked, they were indignant. So Jesus called them together and said…“For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve others and to give his life as a ransom for many.”  Mark 10:37,38,41,45

Some of those at the table were indignant. “Why waste such expensive perfume?” they asked. “It could have been sold for a year’s wages and the money given to the poor!” So they scolded her harshly. But Jesus replied, “Leave her alone. Why criticize her for doing such a good thing to me?  Mark 14:4-6

The disciples scold parents who come to Jesus with their children. They scold a woman who gives all she has to Jesus. The disciples are argumentative, judgmental, arrogant, and thick-headed. They were, at times, faithless.

Anybody want to join that small group? Anyone want to live in community with human beings? Sometimes we might just rather live on a island by ourselves.  But Jesus chose community–as frustrating, discouraging and aggravating as that is sometimes.

Perhaps it would probably have been better for Jesus to go it alone. Alone he could have lived out his life before the Father without frustration, without anger, and without aggravation. But then he would not have been truly human because humans were not created to be alone, even alone with God.

Jesus loved his disciples though he was sometimes frustrated with them. He stuck with his disciples though they often did not understand. He prayed for them even when he knew they would deny him and fail him.

Can we learn to live in community like that? Can we put up with each other out of love? Can we stick with each other despite our mutual faults and failings? Can we learn to live in community with others as Jesus did?

Living in community is hard, difficult and arduous work. But it is the kind of work that perfects us, transforms us, and sharpens us. Through it we learn to become communal people in a way that images God’s own communal life who is Father, Son and Spirit. Jesus learned it as a human being and we, as his disciples, follow him into living in community with others just as he did.

Questions for Discussion:

1. Is it surprising to see how much “anger” was present in this small group? What were some of the reasons or occasions for this anger? Identify the situations where anger or frustration arose?
2. If Jesus leads this community, why is it not free of disturbance and disharmony? Should not a community in which Jesus participates exhibit peace and unity?
3. Why was it important for Jesus to experience this as a human being? What did he learn as the Father’s apprentice in humanity that was important for his own mission?
4. What do we learn from Jesus’ own experience in a small group? How do our groups have the same problems? What does Jesus teach us about dealing with these problems as we seek to live in community?

New Items Posted: Baptism, Job, 2 Timothy

Continuing my quest to post previously published or presented materials, I have uploaded some new items–well, some old items (1990s) that are now newly offered on this website. 

Baptism and Alexander Campbell. The 1990 book Baptism and the Remission of Sins (College Press), edited by David Fletcher, contained three articles I authored. They are posted on my Academic page.

Introduction (co-authored with David Fletcher) which situates the baptismal theology of Churches of Christ on the historic landscape of Christian theology and summarizes the chapters in the book.

Alexander Campbell on Christians Among the Sects. This article discusses the  rebaptism controversy, the Lunenberg letter, and Campbell’s attitude toward Christians among the “sects” (e.g., Baptists, Presbyterians, etc.).

The Recovery of the Ancient Gospel: Alexander Campbell and the Design of Baptism.  This article tracks the development of Campbell’s baptismal theology.  I suggest he went through several stages: (1) Presbyterian until 1812 (advocate of infant baptism), (2) Baptist in 1812-1823 (baptism has no relationship to salvation other than a sign), (3) Modified Baptist from1823-1827 (baptism is no longer a duty but is directly related to assurance and a formal reception of the remission of sins), and (4) mature understanding from 1827 forward (articulated in his “Ancient Gospel” series).

On my General page, I have posted two previously published articles.

Job.   “Job’s ‘Sanctuary Experirence ‘and Mine” is an article that appeared in Leaven (2000). It suggests that the movement from “hearing” about God to “seeing” God in Job 42 is a “sanctuary experience” that comforts believers in their tragedies, and comforted me in my own tragic circumstances. Job’s experience was not sui generis; it is the comfort in which God invites all believers and comes to them through faith.

2 Timothy.  “A Personal Word to Timothy (2 Timothy 4:9-22)” appeared in the 1986 East Tennessee School of Preaching and Missions lectureship book.  Paul’s last words to Timothy use the language of Psalm 22 which is a mixture of abandonment and hope.

Book Reviews.

The Disputations of Baden, 1526 and Bern, 1528: Neutralizing the Early Church by Irena Backus.  These “debates” between Zwinglian and Catholic representatives were critical in the resultant division of Switzerland into five Catholic cantons and five Reformed cantons (which is still true today).  Theologically, the focus of the discussion was the principle of sola scriptura.

Prophecy and Reason: The Dutch Collegiants in the Early Enlightenment by Andrew C. Fix.  Dutch Collegiants (small groups gathered for study and discussion) were the center of enlightenment thought in seventeenth century Holland.  John Locke, during his exile from England, participated as well as leading Remonstrant theologians such as Philip van Limborch.

Exile and Kingdom: History and Apocalypse in the Puritan Migration to America by Avihu Zakai. Puritans, though exiled from Europe, sought to establish the kingdom of God in America. Apocalyptic postmillennialism dominanted their self-understanding.

Grace, Assurance and Fellowship: New Items Posted

My quest continues as I post older materials to my website, some published, some previously unpublished.

1.  On October 8-9, 1993, I led a Men’s Leadership Retreat at Camp Idlewild, Virginia on the topic “Where’s the Grace?”  (It is not my fault, Bob Clark invited me!) I have uploaded the lesson handouts and my rough lecture notes (60+ pages) on my General page. The retreat was structured in six sessions.  This was a very early piece of work and while I would still agree with the substance, I would tweak several things and restructure a few (e.g., no recognition of the “new perspective on Paul” here, insufficient stress on eschatology, too forensic with justification, etc.).  However, it does represent my thinking in 1993.   

• Grace: A New Topic Among Us?  Topic:  Grace and Churches of Christ
• The Way of Salvation  Topic:  Unity of the Covenants
• Grace is Free!  Topic:  Justification
• Grace is not Cheap!  Topic:  Sanctification
• How Can I Be Sure?  Topic:  Assurance
• How Much Will Grace Cover?  Topic:  Fellowship

2.  I have uploaded a piece which I presented on several occasions and have sometimes discussed in the classroom.  I have never published it. I am not quite sure when I actually wrote it but it was sometime in the mid-1990s.  It is entitled “The Implications of Hebrews 5:11-6:3 for Fellowship and Assurance”.  Building on the foundation of the ABCs of the teaching of Christ in Hebrews 6:1-3, we are encouraged to progress to maturity.  However, our progress is often flawed, many times regressive, and never what it should be.  For the preacher of Hebrews, however, regression, immaturity and even spiritual lethargy is not apostasy. Rather, apostasy is unbelief, an evil and hard heart of rebellion.

3. I have uploaded a piece I wrote for the Harding University Lectureship book Ephesians in 1994 entitled “Saved by Grace (Ephesians 2:8-10)”. The article offers a textual and theological analysis of Ephesians 2:8-10 in the context of the early 1990s debate within Churches of Christ on the topic of grace (including Rubel Shelly’s (in)famous “arbeit macht frei” bulletin article).

4. Also, somewhat hesitantly, I offer my lecture notes on Jimmy Jividen’s Koinonia: A Contemporary Study of Church Fellowship.  I presened this material in Jividen’s presence and he commented that he thought I had a good grasp on his book and was fair with it. This lecture was given in 1989 and consequently it is quite dated.  But it reflects my understanding at the time….I think.  It is hard to remember now. 

I offer these “classics” from the 1990s realizing that if everyone had just listened to me back then, we could have solved this thing and moved on.

G. C. Brewer on Grace

In 1946 Roy Key of Juneau, Alaska, caused a small stir with his article “The Righteousness of God” in the January 24 issue of the Gospel Advocate. It promoted “some ideas,” one reader wrote, that he “not been accustomed to hearing.” As a result, G. C. Brewer took up his pen to commend the article as substantially summarizing the Pauline teaching of the “righteousness of God” (Gospel Advocate [7 March 1946] 224+).

Apparently the phrase “not been accustomed to hearing” caught Brewer’s attention since it was his own experience that many were “astonished at this teaching” and others were “offended by it at first.” Indeed, Brewer was concerned about both the ignorance and the “false teaching” present among the churches concerning Paul’s gospel of God’s righteousness.

As a younger preacher Brewer had encountered ministers who denied the concept of imputed righteousness. He summarized the teaching of one of these ministers, whom he highly respected, as this:

“You hear people talk about God’s righteousness or Christ’s righteousness being imputed to a man–of the righteousness of Christ covering a man like a garment, etc. This is all false doctrine. The Bible says, ‘He that doeth righteousness is righteous, even as he is righteous’ (1 John 3:7); and David says, ‘All thy commandments are righteousness.’ So you see that a man who does the commandments of God is righteous–no one else is. You can have no righteousness except the righteousness that you do.” 

One would only need to read the Gospel Advocate in the 1940s and beyond to hear the same sentiments in the writings of some prominent writers such as Guy N. Woods and others, particularly in the Texas Tradition. In his younger years fully Brewer embraced this teaching. He bought the party line as he was exposed to it and helped to promote it. He taught the same message and used the same Scriptures to defend it.

However, he “learned the truth on this point by studying Paul” when he began to study Romans to see what it teaches rather than studying “to find something to offset what someone else teaches.” Brewer underwent a theological change from a legalistic concept of faith–a faith where we have no righteousness except our own so that we contribute to the righteousness that achieves for us a righteous standing before God by measuring up to the plan God has given us–to an affirmation of the divine righteousness which is given to us through faith–the righteousness that God himself gives, the gift of righteousness that does not arise from within us or on the ground of our obedience. It was a change from a legalism of works-righteousness to a Pauline doctrine of grace through faith.

Brewer noted that many of his contemporaries had made a similar change. They had begun in legalism but learned to teach a doctrine of righteousness by faith and “not by doing.” As if to counter the charge that his teaching was innovative, Brewer reminded his readers that J. W. McGarvey, E. G. Sewell, T. W. Caskey, David Lipscomb and James A. Harding “knew the truth on this great question and taught it faithfully.” “Harding,” he added, “was especially strong on this doctrine.”

Brewer’s article recognizd a cleavage in the Stone-Campbell Movement over the doctrine of grace. One segment focuses on the righteousness which a person achieves by doing and another segment focuses on the righteousness which God grants a person by faith. It was a cleavage evident in early 1930s when the Gospel Advocate published K. C. Moser’s The Way of Salvation. This book was embraced by Brewer as “one of the best little books that came from any press in 1932″ (Gospel Advocate [11 May 1933] 434), but was rejected by Foy E. Wallace, Jr. as full of “denominational error on the gospel plan of salvation” (Present Truth [Ft. Worth, TX: Foy E. Wallace Publications, 1977] 1037). These two contrasting attitudes to Moser’s book illustrate two distinct approaches to the “righteousness of God.” The former belonged to the Tennessee Tradition rooted in the Nashville Bible School. The latter belonged, in large part, to the Texas Tradition. Unfortunately, it is a cleavage that continues to exist.

In 1952, Brewer gave a speech at the Abilene Lectures which J. D. Thomas regarded as a turning point in the history of Texas churches on grace. Thomas had invited him because of his known position and Thomas himself had been directly influenced by K. C. Moser whom Brewer had supported as the “brotherhood” tried Moser in the fire. Brewer revisited his emphasis that salvation by was “faith” and not by “doing.” This was his primary point at the 1952 Abilene Christian College Lectureship (Abilene Christian College Bible Lectureship [Firm Foundation Publishing Co., 1952], 112-114). God’s part is giving, not selling; and man’s part is believing, not doing. Salvation is “not a matter of law;” a matter of doing or achieving or working. We are free from law, any law, because God has “offered us a righteousness which comes to us on account of our faith in Christ Jesus.” To affirm otherwise is to render void the grace of God in Christ. If “we are just as righteous as we do–that is, if we have no righteousness but our own, which we achieve by doing the commandments–by observing laws–we make the death of Christ unnecessary” (Gospel Advocate, 1946, 224).

The “doing” which Brewer rejects in the context of Churches of Christ is measuring up to God’s “plan of salvation” which is effectively a new law which one must work in order to be saved. Brewer once received a question from an Advocate reader concerning the place of confession in the “plan of salvation” who wanted to know if the “plan” had “four steps or three,” and if one “dies following baptism without confession with the mouth, what will Jesus do on the judgment day about it?” Brewer immediately commented on the prominence of the idea of a “plan” in the mind of the reader (Autobiography, 91-93):

He is not alone in this manner of thinking, either. Some of us have observed this in the writing and preaching of some of our young preachers. It is hoped that the attention of these fine brethren will be attracted to this article, and that the point here will be given serious thought by them . . . there seems to be a tendency on the part of some to think of this “obedience of faith” (Rom. 1:5, 16:26) as a ritual, a legalistic rite, a ceremony comparable to the “divers washings” or purification processes of the Mosaic Law. This is a grievous mistake. To put stress upon a “plan” and the specific items and steps of that plan may lead to a wrong conclusion. We are saved by a person, not by a plan; we are saved by a Savior, not by a ceremony. Our faith is in that divine personage–that living Lord–and not in items and steps and ordinances. We are saved through faith in Christ and on account of our faith in Christ, and not because of a faith in a plan. Sometimes we are led to fear that some people only have faith in faith, repentance, confession and baptism. . . We must trust his grace and rely upon his blood and look for and expect his healing mercy. To trust a plan is to expect to save yourself by your own works. It is to build according to a blueprint; and if you meet the specifications, your building will be approved by the great Inspector! Otherwise you fail to measure up and you are lost! You could not meet the demands of the law! You could not achieve success!

Brewer called his readers to re-examine their doctrine of God’s righteousness in the light of Romans and Galatians. He offered this prayer, “May the Lord forgive us all and let his righteousness not only supply our lack of righteousness, but also our lack of understanding of his word!” He counseled his readers, “Christ alone can save us. Trust him, brother” (Gospel Advocate, 1946, 224).

If you are interested in reading Key’s original 1946 articles and Brewer’s endorsement article, click here.

Women in the Assembly: 1 Corinthians 14:34-35

The academic lecture I have just uploaded as Women in the Assembly: Issues and Options (First Corinthians 14:33-35) was presented at the Institute for Biblical Research Regional Meeting, Jackson, MS in December, 1990. It has never been published till now. When I wrote and presented this material I was teaching at Magnolia Bible College in Kosciusko, Mississippi.

I originally prepared this material during the early summer of 1990 after I was invited to speak on 1 Corinthians 14:34-35 at the 1990 Harding University lectureship. As I read new materials and restudied the text and then authored this piece, my mind underwent a significant shift. Whereas previously I had argued that women should have no audible presence in the public assembly, in the process of writing this paper I changed my mind. That change meant that my invitation to contribute to the lectureship book and speak at the lectureship on this topic was withdrawn. I fully understood then, and still do now, why that was necessary since the invitation presumed that I would defend a position I had previously stated in print on at least two occasions (that is, “Worship in 1 Corinthians 14:26-40: The Injunction of Silence,” Image 5 [August 1989], pp. 24+ and with Bruce L. Morton, Woman’s Role in the Church [Shreveport, LA: Lambert Book House, 1978]). I have no resentments about the withdrawn invitation at all. It was probably best for me as well!

The reason for my shift in thinking was textual in character rather than theological. Theology is much more of my thinking now, but then I was focused specifically on what the text says (and I never want to do less than that even now). Since I had never accepted the differentiation of 1 Corinthians 11:2-16 as a “private” gathering from the “assembly” in 1 Corinthians 11:17-34 where the church shared the Lord’s Supper (the two assemblies are the same in my mind and where is the difference in the New Testament between a “private” and “public” assembly?), I was earlier forced to conclude that either (1) Paul was implicitly forbidding women to pray and prophesy by requiring the head coverning (one can’t wear a submissive head covering and exercise authority at the same time, right?) or (2) he was simply compartmentalizing his response to the situation (addressed the head covering question in chapter 11 and then dealt with silence in chapter 14). Through my renewed study I was disabused of either of those alternatives.

Instead, I was convinced that Paul not only approved praying and prophesying by women in the assembly but that he encouraged it! Reading 1 Corinthians 11:10 with the literal active voice (“has authority”) instead of the presumed passive voice (“sign of authority”), Paul states that a woman has authority (has the right!) to pray and prophesy when she honors her head through the covering. This led me to a critical point: in the early church women audibly prayed and prophesied in the assembly of the church even while they honored their husbands (or the men in the assembly). Consequently, it was not a violation of the created order (to which Paul appeals in 1 Corinthians 11) for women to pray and prophesy–to lead in the assembly through prayer and prophecy–since they could do so and at the same time honor their heads. Leadership, then, does not necessarily imply headship!

Since Paul approved audible female participation in the assembly in 1 Corinthians 11, he could not have meant that they should be silenced in 1 Corinthians 14.  So, what did he mean?  I concluded that he either meant that disruptive women should be silent (e.g., the wives of the prophets interrupting the assembly with their questions or women babbling in disorderly Greco-Roman cultic style) or that women were precluded from “judging” the prophets (which is the view I take in this presentation). Paul did not prohibit women from speaking per se, but from a particular kind of speaking, a disruptive or intrusive speaking.

This essay, then, represents an important moment in the development of my understanding of gender roles in the assembly. It was a significant step for me. I here offer it to the public for the first time since it was read at the regional professional meeting in Jackson, MS, in 1990. It has not seen the light of day since then though I have used its ideas on many occasions and in a variety of modes.

I have, of course, grown in my understanding of the issue since then. I can’t say that I am completely satisfied with where I am. I sense that I am missing something and I am open to hearing the text anew. The text mastered me (at least I think it did on this point) during the summer of 1990. I hope it will yet again master me so I that I might more faithfully speak God’s vision for his world and church rather than my own cultural and/or traditional biases.

Christian Experience: Alexander Campbell and the Baptists

Alexander Campbell’s relationship with the Baptists is rather complicated.  His Brush Run congregation petitioned for membership Redstone Baptist Association in 1815 and then was admitted in 1816.  In 1823 Alexander Campbell, along with thirty members from the Brush Run church, planted a new congregation in Wellsburg, Virginia. That congregation joined the Mahoning Baptist Association in 1824.  The Redstone Association effectively removed the Brush Run church from their rolls in the years 1824-1826 due to rising tensions.  In 1829 the Beaver Association anathematized the Reformers and six other Baptist Associations did the same in 1830.  These anathemas split the Baptist church in Kentucky. Between 1829-1831 Baptists, in Kentucky alone, lost 9,580 members to the Reformers and half their churches.

The primary tension between the Reformers and the Baptists was the relationship between faith, baptism and “christian experience.”  The 1830 Redstone Association “resolved” that the “exclusion” of the Reformers “was on account of being erroneous doctrine [sic], maintaining, namely…that faith in Christ is only a belief of historical facts…rejecting and deriding what is commonly called christian experience…there is no operation of the Spirit on hearts of men…”  (Minutes of the Redstone Baptist Association, September 3-5, 1830, p. 5).

Alexander Campbell attempted to maintain fellowship with the Virginia Baptists despite the rejection of the Kentucky Baptists. He sought dialogue with leading Baptist ministers such as Robert B. Semple and Andrew Broaddus. But Campbell’s “Extra” on the baptism for the remission of sins in July 1830 was a major breaking point as Broaddus believed this was at odds with “christian experience.”  In 1832 he wrote a friend: “To his view of baptism, as the only medium of actual pardon, justificatio, sanctification, reconciliation, adoption and salvation from the guilt and power of sin–and to his view of divine influence as consisting merely in the moral influence of the word, I would not consent” (Broaddus, Memoirs, 289-90). 

Eventually, the Dover Association of Virginia excluded the Reformers in 1832 based on resolutions drawn up in December 1830 (e.g., seventy-two members were dismissed from the First Baptist Church of Richmond, Virginia). Campbell himself commented that the “whole matter” of the Dover resolutions “is the denial of their mystic influences of the Holy Spirit, and immersion for the remission of sins” (Millennial Harbinger, 1831, 78). Thus, both the Baptists and the Disciples (Campbell) recognized that the theologial differences between them were basically two (though there were other tensions, of course):  the design of immersion and the work of the Holy Spirit in conversion. 

This, of course, remained the primary tension between the Stone-Campbell Movement and the Baptists throughout the 19th and 20th centuries.   Many debates ensued on those two topics (e.g., the Nashville Debate between Moody and James A. Harding as well as the Hardeman-Bogard Debate, and many, many others). I have suggested in another presentation that reproachment is possible (“Seeking Consensus: A “Kinder, Gentler” Campbellite Baptismal Theology“) and especially so in the light of recent discussions among the Baptists themselves (especially Believer’s Baptism: Sign of the New Covenant in Christ).  Understanding the origins of our differences, their nature ,and how they were originally polarized is an important first step in pursuing dialogue today. 

For those interested my article Baptism, Faith and Christian Experience: Baptists and Disciples Part Company discusses the history of this separation of Baptists and Disciples in some detail and explores the theological tension between them on the nature, means and content of “christian experience” in relation to salvation.  The article first appeared as “Baptism, Faith and Christian Experience: Baptists and Disciples Part Company” in Evangelicalism and the Stone-Campbell Movement, edited by William Baker (Downer’s Grove: Inter-Varsity Press, 2002). It now appears on my Academic page.

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice V

Road Trip: Shaped by Mission

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me to bring Good News to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim that captives will be released, that the blind will see, that the oppressed will be set free, and that the time of the Lord’s favor has come.”  Luke 4:18-19 (quoting Isaiah 61:1-2)

Early the next morning Jesus went out to an isolated place. The crowds searched everywhere for him, and when they finally found him, they begged him not to leave them. But Jesus replied, “I must preach the Good News of the Kingdom of God in other towns, too, because that is why I was sent.”  Luke 4:42-43

One day Jesus called together his twelve disciples and gave them power and authority to cast out all demons and to heal all diseases. Then he sent them out to tell everyone about the Kingdom of God and to heal the sick…So they began their circuit of the villages, preaching the Good News and healing the sick.   Luke 9:1-2, 6.

These text raise some interesting questions.

• What is the good news of the kingdom of God?
• What is the mission of Jesus?
• How does healing the sick embody the good news?

All these texts in Luke come before Jesus ever turns his face toward Jerusalem; they come long before Jesus announces to his disciples that he must die and rise again. So, the questions cannot be answered in terms of the death and resurrection of Jesus except that the death and resurrection of Jesus are the climatic fulfillment of what it means to preach “good news and heal the sick.” After all, the death and resurrection of Jesus are God’s Yes to the prayers “Your Kingdom Come.”

But the ministry of Jesus is also significant for mission and not simply his death and resurrection. The mission for which Jesus was sent into the world is summarized as declaring the good news of the kingdom and—to say it broadly—“heal the sick.” If the good news is not the death and resurrection of Jesus, it is the announcement of the coming reign of God and the in-breaking of that reign through Jesus’ healing ministry, through his ministry to the poor and oppressed, through his ministry to the “outsider” in Luke.

Jesus practiced this ministry; he was apprenticed into this ministry. He took it as a mission from God and lived it out in his life. Disciples are called to do the same.

The disciples of Jesus are a missional community. The disciples take up the mission of Jesus himself. They are also to declare the good news of the kingdom and heal the sick. Jesus sent out the twelve on this mission, and then also the seventy (Luke 10). Ultimately, he sends his church.

The mission of Jesus is the mission of the church. The church discovers its mission by immersing itself in the life and ministry of Jesus. The church, as the body of Christ, continues the mission of Jesus himself. The book of Acts tells the story of how the church continued what Jesus himself “began to do and to teach” (Acts 1:1).

Healing the sick, releasing the imprisoned, freeing the oppressed—the mission of Jesus—is the mission of the church. The good news (the gospel; the evangelistic message) is not simply about saving souls but also about saving the whole person, body and soul. It is good news for the poor not only in their spiritual emptiness but also in their material poverty as the church feeds, clothes and heals.

If the church really took up the mission of Jesus in its wholeness, what would “doing church” look like? This is the challenge for the church and its mission in the 21st century—the challenge to embody the ministry of Jesus in our world and to become Jesus to our world.

Just as Jesus was sent into the world for the sake of the world, so the church is also sent into the world for the sake of the world. Jesus was blessed to bless others, and so the church–blessed with the riches of God’s grace and mercy–is sent into the world to bless others with the good news of God’s reign.

Questions for Discussion:

1. What was the mission of Jesus? What is the good news of the kingdom of God? (Caution: Jesus is preaching this good news long before he ever begins to tell anyone that he is going to Jerusalem to die and rise again.)
2. How was Jesus apprenticed in this mission? Was Jesus ever tempted to shift his mission or emphasis? What kinds of temptations do you think he might have faced?
3. If the disciples were sent to tell the good news and heal the sick, how does that epitomize Jesus’ mission? How do we implement this mission as we follow Jesus? What does that look like?
4. What are the implications of saying “the mission of the Jesus is the mission of the church”? How might that change the way we “do church” or think about “church”?

It is Spring! Well, for some of us!

Where can one work at his computer and watch live MLB baseball in February?   Answer:  on the “Space Coast” of Florida!

Some of you are living in the cold, some of you are caged in an office, some of you are languishing in the boredom of your jobs.   I, however, am watching–by the grace of my wife (first and foremost!) and the graciousness of my brother (who works for the Nationals)–the Nationals and Tigers play the first home game of Spring training for the Nationals.

Come on in “boys,” the water is fine. 

Confession and the “Plan of Salvation”: Another Texas and Tennessee Difference

In an earlier post I quoted a piece from G. C. Brewer’s autobiography where he objected to the emphasis that some placed on the plan of salvation rather than on a personal savior. His comment came in the context of discussing the role of confession in the five-step (or is it four-step or three-step?) plan of salvation. Brewer did not think “confession” was a necessary part of the plan of salvation (1945).

This was quite a divisive topic at the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th centuries. J. W. Jackson, one of the editors of the Firm Foundation, was even asked if a church should withdraw from a person who “contends that the confession before baptism is not essential to the remission of sins” (1897; he had earlier recommended excluding those who did not believe that baptism was for the remission of sins). To his credit Jackson advised bearing with the brother even though he believed that “faith in Christ includes the confession of that faith, for a faith that does not act is a dead faith and valueless.” But the question indicates the intensity of the discussion which did not abate throughout the next decade. J. R. Lane scolded David Lipscomb for his “denial of the clear teaching of God’s word on the subject” and his “presumption in doing in the name of Jesus Christ something that he says ‘no mention is made of in connection with any baptism in the scriptures!’” (1907).

There were three positions among Churches of Christ in the late 19th century: (1) the confession of faith before baptism was not a necessary condition of salvation (Gospel Advocate, Lipscomb, Sewell and the Tennessee Tradition generally), (2) the confession of faith before baptism was a necessary condition of salvation (Firm Foundation, McGary, Jackson, Savage and the Texas Tradition generally), and (3) the exact form of the confession in Acts 8:37 was a necessary condition of salvation (J. P. Nall, editor of the Word of Truth; cf. McGary, 1900).

The seriousness of the question is indicated by how the question is focused in the question “What must I do to be Saved?” which was a standard homily at the time. While A. J. McCarty complained that he had heard a supposedly “loyal” brother preach on the question “and he did not once mention the confession” (1898), Joe S. Warlick took pride in the fact that he “never” puts “confession in the answer” because neither Jesus nor any “inspired apostle ever included it in answer to the question” (1899). Warlick believed that “more than half” of the “strongest preachers in Texas” agreed with him (1900) though the Firm Foundation opposed him. The Tennessee Tradition (David Lipscomb, E. G. Sewell, etc.) also agreed with Warlick (though he did not call attention to this fact himself).

McCarty did not believe “any man” had a “scriptural right to be silent on this important item in the gospel plan of salvation” and whoever neglects it is “unfaithful.” He advised that those who do not teach and practice the confession should be marked and avoided as Romans 16 teaches. “Brethren, will we do it?” was his concluding question.

Warlick insisted that there were “only three conditions in the plan of salvation to the alien” and Jesus himself stated them in the Great Commission (Matthew 28:19-20; Mark 16:15-16; and Luke 24:45-47). “And the apostles in preaching to sinners never hinted at a fourth, but used only three” (1900). Warlick even offered $100 to the person who could “produce chapter, verse or any fractional part thereof” for this fourth step (confession) in the New Testament (1901).

All the editors of the Firm Foundation insisted on a confession of faith prior to baptism as a “necessary condition of salvation” in the plan of salvation. McGary, for example, believed it was “necessarily implied” in the Great Commission (1900). George Savage argued in this manner: “Since ‘the faith’ is the gospel, and since the confession is part of the faith preached everywhere to both Jew and Greek by the apostles of Christ, it follows that the confession is part of the gospel. Since the gospel in all its parts is essential to salvation, it follows with all fidelity to God that the confession is necessary to salvation” (1904). Confession, then, is one of the commands of the gospel just like baptism and therefore it is absolutely necessary to salvation.

Why was this so important for the editors of the Firm Foundation? What was driving the pursuit of this controversy? It is related to the rebaptism controversy. Since Baptists confessed that their sins had already been forgiven, this is not the “good confession” required in the New Testament, according to McGary and others. Referring to Lipscomb and Sewell as “unstable souls,” McGary believed that “were it not for the practice of receiving Baptists on their baptism (who did not make this confession when they were baptized),” it would not be an issue at all (1901). But Lipscomb and Sewell continued to insist that even Baptists were immersed upon a confession that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God—the same confession upon which Alexander Campbell himself was immersed. Consequently, they were forced, in McGary’s opinion, to deny that confession was a necessary condition since the confession Baptists made was not the same as the “good confession” in the New Testament.

According to McGary, the combination of accepting sect baptism and denying the necessity of confession as a condition of salvation far exceeds the seriousness of the “advocacy of instrumental music in worship and human societies in the work of the Lord.” Though the instrument and socities are “great evils,” they “do not begin to compare in their enormity of crime against God, with this most gigantic and presumptuous sin of virtually endorsing Baptist doctrine, which openly contradicts Christ” (1901). Lipscomb and the Gospel Advocate were in error on the plan of salvation and this was more serious than instrumental music!

The confession and rebaptism issues, then, were bound up together for the Texas Tradition. Both commands are part of the gospel itself (the gospel includes facts, commands and promises–the standard mantra that enables “gospel” to include every command in the NT if so construed). Confession is a command by necessary inference and baptism for the explicit purpose to remit sins is based on reading “for the remission of sins” in Acts 2:38 as part of the command. These particular gospel commands distinguished Churches of Christ from the Baptists. Lipscomb believed both “commands” were “ritualism” since they had been made an “essential form” where some “valued the form above the substance” (Lipscomb, Queries and Answers, pp. 97-98).

When the Tennessee Tradition does not agree, it essentially—according to the Texas Tradition—sides with the Baptists and undermines the distinct identity of Churches of Christ. Steps (4) and (5) in the Texas plan of salvation—confession and baptism for the remission of sins (see a previous post on this point)—function to distinguish Churches of Christ from the Baptists. In other words, this peculiar, distinctive and late (1880s forward) understanding of the “gospel plan of salvation” is sectarian in character and functions to exclude obedient believers (e.g., those who were immersed out of a trust in Christ in obedience to God) from the visible church of God, the fellowship of the church.

The debate over the place of “confession” in the plan of salvation, then, was but another part of constructing the 20th century identity of Churches of Christ. Anyone who grew up in the Churches of Christ of the mid-twentieth century can testify to the unquestioned assumption that there were five steps in the plan of salvation and the fourth one was “confession.” But it had not always been so among “us”! Historically, it became so out of largely—though not exclusively—sectarian motives.

For further examples of the Texas-Tennessee difference, see that category under “Stone-Campbell History” in the Serial Index.

Citations:

G. C. Brewer, “Confession and the Plan of Salvation,” Gospel Advocate 87 (26 April 1945) 233.

J. W. Jackson, “Question,” Firm Foundation 13 (30 Nov 1897) 4.

J. R. Lane, “Brother Lipscomb on the Confession,” Firm Foundation 23 (13 August 1907) 1.

David Lipscomb, Queries and Answers, edited by J. W. Shepherd (Cincinnati, Ohio: Rowe Publishers, 1918).

Austin McGary, “Bro. M’Gary’s Good Confession,” Firm Foundation 16 (20 November 1900) 775.

Austin McGary, “Unstable Souls,” Firm Foundation 17 (10 September 1901) 4.

Austin McGary, “[Untitled Editorial],” Firm Foundation 16 (29 May 1900) 344.

George W. Savage, “The Confession—It is a Condition of Salvation—No. 2,” Firm Foundation 20 (20 Dec 1904) 4.

Joe. S. Warlick, “Bro. M’Gary’s Good Confession,” Firm Foundation 16 (20 November 1900) 774.

Joe S. Warlick, “Bro. M’Gary’s Good Confession,” Firm Foundation 16 (5 February 1901) 4.

Joe S. Warlick, “The True Position on the Confession,” Firm Foundation 15 (16 May 1898) 312.

Old JMH Articles: 1980s

Some are worthwhile, some are not; or, at least, some are more worthwhile than others.    You will have to be the judge.

“Ministerial Education,” Magnolia Messenger 11.6 (June 1989), 11, 14.

Building on J. W. McGarvey’s article on ministerial education (Lard’s Quarterly, 1865, 239-250), the piece argues for a liberal arts education plus additional theological education for ministers. It is tailored toward the institution at which I taught at the time and is thus contextualized in significant way.

“Tertullian, Gospel Advocate 130.10 (October 1, 1988), 51.

Tertullian is the fountainhead of Western theology and vocabulary.  This is a very general assessment of his importance at the request of the editor at the time.  Why did he ask for Tertullian?  I’m not quite sure.

““Are We Saved by Imputed Righteousness? (1) & (2),” Image 2.10 (May 15, 1986), 10, 17 and Image 2.11 (June 1, 1986) 16, 20.

We are justifed by the gracious gift of Christ’s righteousness. We are not saved by our own inherent righteousness, our own “doing” of the law. This piece does not take count of the “New Perspective” on Paul but nevertheless still stresses an important truth.

“The Heritage of Alabama’s Restorer: J. M. Barnes ” Gospel Advocate 128.9 (May, 1, 1986), 276-7.

Justice McDuffee Barnes was a representative of the Tennessee Tradition. Educated under Alexander Campbell at Bethany, he was a pioneer evangelist and educator in south Alabama. He was a frequent contributor to the Gospel Advocate in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

“Peter’s Hypocrisy and Ours, Gospel Advocate 128.8 (April, 17, 1986), 244-5.

When the people of God erect barriers to fellowship that are not soteriologically grounded, they follow Peter into his hypocrisy.  This principle still holds true, I think.

“No Private Interpretation,” Sound Doctrine 10.2 (April-December, 1985), 30.

2 Peter 1:20-21 stresses that the prophets of Scripture did not originat their own messages with their own imagination but were sustained by the Spirit.

“Compassion: The Basis of a Wholistic Ministry,” Image 1.9 (October 1, 1985), 18-19.

Matthew roots the ministry of Jesus in his compassion.

New Items Posted, Again

A.  I have conducted several seminars on 1 Corinthians, especially for newer church plants (e.g., Kiev).  I have uploaded the lecture outlines and small group question materials for a series on 1 Corinthians that I put together for the Cordova Community Church in the late 1990s.  This was the congregation that Gary Ealy and I, along with others, helped plant.  Our method was to present some teaching material for 30 minutes and then we would discuss it in small groups for 30 minutes. There are sixteen lessons which I have uploaded on my Classes page in one document:

1. What Unites Us (1 Corinthians 1).
2. What Might Divide Us (1 Corinthians 3-4).
3. Community Standards (1 Corinthians 5).
4. Community Ethics (1 Corinthians 6).
5.  Healthy Marriages (1 Corinthians 7).
6. When Love is More Important Than Knowledge (1 Corinthians 8).
7. When Others are More Important Than My Rights (1 Corinthians 9).
8. No Presumption: The Lord’s Supper and Ethics (1 Corinthians 10).
9. Male and Female in the Worship Assembly (1 Corinthians 11:3-10).
10. Whose Meal is This? The Lord’s Supper or Ours? (1 Corinthians 17:17-34).
11. Body Language: Whose Job Is It Anyway? (1 Corinthians 12).
12. Love Language: Love Heals Disunity (1 Corinthians 13).
13. Worship: Rational, Emotional or Both? (1 Corinthians 14:1-25).
14. Order Rather than Chaos in the Worship Assembly (1 Corinthians 14:26-40).
15.  The Gospel: Our Foundation and Hope (1 Corinthians 15:1-19).
16. The Collection: Sharing God’s Gifts with Others (1 Corinthians 16:1-4).

B.  The second piece I have uploaded is my thirteen page handout for the Midwest Preacher’s Seminar in Wisconsin on September 22-24, 2000.  The seminar was entitled “Stress These Things: Theological Reflections on Titus.”  I have put it on my General page.  I structured the epistle in this manner:

Introduction (1:1-4)
     Salutation (1:1a, 4a)
     Theological Summary (1:1b-3)
     Greeting (1:4b)
Thematic Concern (1:5)
     Appoint Elders (1:6-16).
          The Character of Elders (1:6-9)
          The Character of False Teachers (1:10-16)
     Teach Sound Doctrine (2:1-3:11)
          First Directive (2:1-15)
               Moral Exhortation (2:1-10)
               Christological Ground (2:11-14)
               Encouragement (2:15)
          Second Directive (3:1-11)
              Moral Exhortation (3:1-2)
              Theological Ground (3:3-8)
              Warning (3:9-11)
Conclusion (3:12-15)
     Ministry Details (3:12-14)
          Ministry Partners (3:12-13)
          Ministry Purpose (3:14)
     Benedictory Greetings (3:15)

C. I have upload a presentation I made to Korean Ministers visiting America in the late 1990s on church polity to my General page. This document also served as a theological backdrop for leadership in the new church plant in Cordova, Tennesseee. It surveys a theology of leadership, the function of evangelists, elders and deacons, as well as the concept of a “leadership team” to serve a church. As evangelists instruct elders with knowledge and elders guide evangelists with wisdom, together they equip the church for ministry.

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice VI

Connected Living: Levels of Community

The Triune God, of course, lives together in perfect unity, transparency and intimacy. The Father loves the Son, the Son loves the Spirit and the Spirit loves the Father. They are one (John 17:20-25). Their community is unbounded; it is infinite.

Living life as a human, however, Jesus learned to live in community in bounded ways; he lived as a finite human being. He could not be intimate with everyone; he could not share his day-to-day life with everyone; and he could not even speak to everyone. Rather, he lived out his humanity as we live out ours—he connected with others at different levels of community.

We may call these “circles of fellowship” or “levels of community.” Whatever we call them the Gospel narratives indicate that Jesus experienced communal life in various ways and at different times. His experience is a model for reflecting on our own experience as we seek to become fully and authentically human ourselves.

The Levels

Solitude. Jesus took time to be alone with God—the Father and Spirit. This was foundational for everything else in his life. This time confirmed his identity and focused his mission. In this time we face our true selves and learn to love ourselves because we are loved by God.

Intimacy. Jesus shared life and feelings with Peter, James and John. They were his intimates with whom he could share experiences, burdens and fears that perhaps he could not share with others. We need people who know our secrets, to whom we confess our sins, and who will hold us accountable. We need people who know our stories, our true selves and before whom we are emotionally and spiritually “naked and unashamed.” Many have “covenant groups” but sometimes they are too large. Intimacy happens with three or four people, perhaps six, but rarely much larger than that.

Relationship. Jesus traveled with the twelve and a few female supporters. He ate with them, prayed with them, recreated with them, and served with them. They were his “small group” – a group of people which numbers between 10 and 20. These groups are not intimacy groups, but they are relationships which supply mutual support, social interaction, and even fun. These are the people who surround us with their love in times of tragedy and join us in celebration in times of joy. They share life with us. These are the people with whom we eat the “last suppers” or the “Passovers” of our life.

Community. Jesus also spent time with larger groups of disciples than the twelve. He gathered seventy disciples to send out two by two in Luke 10. In the setting of most of our congregations, these are the Bible classes we attend or the ministries in which we serve. They are twenty to a hundred people whose names we know and with whom we share a common interest or task. This level of community is generally task-oriented with less focus on inter-personal interaction.

Assembly. Jesus also went to the Temple to worship with the people of God, with the crowds and multitudes. He attended the festivals and synagogue assemblies. He stood in the congregation and praised the Father. Assemblies, of course, range in size from small communities (30-100 people) to crowds of people (thousands). But the focus of community here is not interpersonal interaction as much as the presence of God within the community. Here, together, we encounter God as one people; here we join the heavenly assembly of saints and angels to praise Father, Son and Spirit. And we are thereby encouraged and empowered as a community to embrace and pursue the mission of God in the world.

Living Community in Levels

At different times in our lives we emphasize different levels. Someone who has been hurt or abused by intimacy may only desire anonymity in the assembly for a period of time. Someone who has experienced loneliness in assembly may want to focus on developing intimacy with others. Someone who has for years focused on community tasks may discover a need to focus on solitude for a period of time.

There is no single way to slice this pie. Everyone is different and at different times has different needs. That is fine and leaders should have the patience to let people be where they are instead of forcing them into particular molds or church programs.

At the same time while community can happen naturally at all these levels, leaders may encourage believers to seek out community at every level in appropriate ways at appropriate times. Healthy congregations provide opportunities for the experience of community at every one of these levels. Leaders strategize how to best promote these experiences for their flock.

We cannot expect one form of community to supply the need for which another level is designed. We cannot expect a Bible class (community) to provide the intimacy that a group of three or four friends can. If we do expect it, then we will be sorely disappointed. Neither can an assembly be a “small group” where we know everyone. However, we can seek out each level of community so that our lives find balance, nurture and fulfillment just as Jesus found in his human relationships.

Questions for Discussion:

1. Identify what you find most valuable and helpful about each level of community?
2. What do you think makes each level of community different from the other? Why is it important to recognize those differences?
3. On what level of community do you need to focus more of your attention at this moment in your life?
4. How can the church guide people to or help them discover these different levels of community as part of body life?

Lipscomb on Rebaptism: A Succinct Statement

David Lipscomb, Queries and Answers, ed. by J. W. Shepherd (Cincinnati: Rowe  Publishers, 1918), p. 53. 

Question: “May a person who believes his sins forgiven submit to a scriptural baptism while thus believing?”

Answer:  “There is something unscriptural in the case as presented; but what is it? Is it the baptism, or is it the understanding of when a person is pardoned? If the latter, does that invalidate the former? This is the point of issue in this question, and it is continually ignored.  “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.” (Mark 16:16.) The thing to be believed is that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God. A person that believes this, and, on this faith, is baptized, is scripturally baptized; but if he believe he has been forgiven before he is baptized his faith is unscriptural–that is, he mistakes the point in the path of obedience at which pardon is promised and can be claimed. Does a mistake as to the point at which God bestows the blessing cause God to withhold the blessing form one who, through faith, does what God tells him? If so, where is the precept or example that shows it? If it is so, it must be because God requires a person to understand at what point in the path of obedience a blessing is promised before he can receive it.  Does any one believe this? I have never found one that would affirm it. I have asked for a single precept or example in the New Testament or the Old Testament that would prove it. I have never seen one produced that was claimed to teach it. I can produce scores of examples and precepts from the Old Testament and the New Testament showing that a misunderstanding on the part of man as to when, in the path of obedience, a blessing was promised, or even of what the blessing was, did not prevent God bestowing the blessingwhen the point was reached. To deny the blessing would be given in this instance because the person mistook the point at which the blessing was bestowed is to set at defiance the teachings of God through the Old Testament and the New Testament, which were written for our example and admonition. God is pleased with the faith that does what he tells to be done without waiting to know when and how God will bless.”

Another Statement (pp. 52-53):  “Christ was baptized ‘to fulfill all righteousness,’ or to obey all the commands of God to make men righteous. (Matt. 3:15.) It is difficult to improve on the examples of Christ. All blessings and all the promises of God connected with the service of God ought to be proclaimed to encourage men to trust in and obey God. But when man does so trust God as to do what he commands, God accepts that service from the humblest of mortals, and man should throw no stumbling-blocks in the way of these little ones of God. There is no greater hindrance to the cause of God at this day than magnifying things not taught by God into questions that create strife among the people of God and divert their minds from the great work of saving men and women from death.”

My Comment:  Lipcomb consistently stresses (1) the example of Jesus and (2) the faith that saves.  If Jesus was baptized to obey God, then following that example is sufficient, and the faith that is required for baptism is a faith in Jesus and not a faith in the promise or blessing of baptism.  Anyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ and obeys God in baptism through that faith receives the blessings God promised in connection with baptism whether they know it or not (not only the remission of sins, but the gift of the Holy Spirit as well) and even if they had a mistaken notion of what God had promised.  God’s promises do not depend upon a perfectionistic understanding of what God has promised but rather are received through faith in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the Living God.  God gives his grace (blessings) through faith and not through perfectionistic understanding.

Hebrews: Sermon, Bible Class and Small Group Resource

In the Fall of 2002, Rubel Shelly and John York preached through Hebrews at the Woodmont Hills Family of God in Nashville, Tennessee. They entitled their series “Strength for the Journey.”  At the same time I provided resource teaching material for the Bible classses and some small groups used that material as well. 

Rubel’s sermons are available here and John’s are available here.  Rubel and John identified the text and provided a summary of their homiletic point.  I then constructed a teaching resource based on their chosen text and summary. So, I followed their division of the text into chucks. 

Each lesson was divided into (1) Teaching Materials and (2) Teaching Options.  Under the teaching materials, I provided (a) exegetical notes and (b) pointed out what I thought was the theological substance of the passage.

I have uploaded the 106 pages of single space material to my Classes page.  I hope they are helpful to some.

Outline of Lessons 

1. Outline of Hebrews
2. Introducing Hebrews
3. God Must Really Love Us (Hebrews 1:1-4)
4. Fascinated by Angels (Hebrews 1:5-2:18)
5. In Awe of Moses (Hebrews 3:1-19)
6. Awed by Joshua (Hebrews 4:1-13)
7. Our Compassionate High Priest (Hebrews 4:14-5:10)
8. We are At Risk! (Hebrews 5:11-6:20)
9. Jesus: Eternal High Priest of the Melchizedekan Order (Hebrews 7:1-28)
10. Looking to Jesus: A Better Covenant (Hebrews 8:1-13)
11. Looking to Jesus: Ministry in the Heavenly Tabernacle (Hebrews 9:1-10)
12. Looking to Jesus: The Perfect Sacrifice, Part I (Hebrews 9:11-28)
13. Looking to Jesus: The Perfect Sacrifice, Part II (Hebrews 10:1-18)
14. So? (Hebrews 10:19-39)
15. Take Heart From Others’ Stories (Hebrews 11:1-40)
16. Eyes on Jesus! (Hebrews 12:1-13)
17. Why Even Think of Turning Back? (Hebrews 12:14-29)
18. A Final “Word of Exhortation” (Hebrews 13:1-25)

 

Leadership: A Teaching/Discussion Resource

Leadership Series
Cordova Community Church, Cordova, TN (1998)

This material was presented in the form of 30 minutes of teaching followed by 30 minutes of discussion within small groups.

The new church plant was moving toward appointing their first shepherds. We probably moved too quickly as I think about it now, but this is the material we studied together. As with anything over ten years old, I would probably phrase things differently, emphasize different things, import some ideas that have become more significant to me (e.g., missional, eschatology, etc.), and rethink the way I handled gender in this series (e.g., I would definitely add Romans 16 into this discussion mix [some of that material is available in the series Women Serving God]and offer more alternatives for understanding 1 Timothy 2 [also available in that series). Nevertheless, it was a healthy study at the time and, for the most part, still is. Anyone who makes use of this, of course, will have to make their own judgments about what is helpful now and what is not…as even I would today.   

I have uploaded the nearly fifty pages of notes and discussion questions onto my Classes page for those who are interested.

The series had a theological and christocentric starting point.  Shepherds should shepherd as God shepherds; they should imitate the Good Shepherd in his humility, service and loving care. It moved through some of the classic texts on elders and ultimately ended discussing the relationship of evangelists (“located preachers”) and elders. 

Below is a list of the lessons:

1. Our Model: The Humiliation of God (Philippians 2:1-11).
2. The Divine Shepherd (Psalm 23)
3. God and His Shepherds (Ezekiel 34:1-22)
4. Jesus as the Good Shepherd (John 10:1-18)
5. Servant Leadership (Mark 10:32-45)
6. Jesus and His Shepherds (1 Peter 5:1-4)
7. Priorities in Leadership (Acts 6:1-7)
8. Giving Elders Perspective (Acts 20:25-35)
9. Gender and Leadership (1 Timothy 2:1-2, 8-15)
10. Respecting Leaders (1 Thessalonians 5:12-15)
11. Qualities of Leadership I (1 Timothy 3:1-7)
12. Following Leaders (Hebrews 13:7-8, 17, 24)
13. Qualities of Leadership II (Titus 1:5-9)
14. Elders as Caregivers (James 5:13-20)
15. Leaders as Equippers (Ephesians 4:7-16)
16. Evangelists (1 Timothy 4:6-16)
17. Elders and Evangelists (1 Timothy 5:17-22)

The Eschatology of James A. Harding

One of the more significant differences between the Tennessee and Texas Traditions is eschatology.

I use “eschatology” in the broad sense of the term. It is not simply about millennialism (though the Tennessee Tradition was generally premillennial). Rather, it involves how one understands the kingdom of God, how the kingdom relates to “worldly kingdoms” (civil governments), the dynamic nature of God’s actions in the world, and the nature of the new heavens and new earth (renewed earth theology).

James A. Harding strongly emphasized the eschatological nature of the Christian faith. At the 1999 Christian Scholar’s Conference, I presented a paper entitled “The Eschatological Structure of James A. Harding’s Theology” which I have now uploaded to my Academic page.

After a brief biography, the paper describes Harding’s understanding of spiritual conflict in God’s creation, civil government (which he shares with David Lipscomb) and millennialism. I conclude by stressing how his pneumatology fits the eschatological structure of his theology. The personal indwelling of the Spirit in the Christian is a central feature of Harding’s eschatological structure. It was a core value for him.

Of course, all of this was foreign to the Texas Tradition–no personal indwelling, no renewed earth eschatology, patriotic nationalism rather than sole allegiance to the kingdom of God, amillennialism (if any sense of millennialism at all), emphasis on the church rather than the kingdom, etc.  Here Tennessee and Texas were total opposites.

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice VII

Shaped by Gathering

That is why he is not ashamed to call them brothers, saying, “I will tell of your name to my brothers; in the midst of the congregation I will sing your praise.”  Hebrews 2:11b-12 (quoting Psalm 22:22)

Jesus returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit, and news about him spread through the whole countryside. He taught in their synagogues, and everyone praised him. He went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom. And he stood up to read. Luke 4:14-16

Some time later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for a feast of the Jews. John 5:1

Jesus habitually attended weekly Sabbath synagogue meetings (Mark 1:21; 6:2; Luke 4:16; 6:6; 13:10). The synagogue functioned as a community center throughout the week, but on the Sabbath it was a place of prayer, Scripture reading and teaching. Jesus participated in the weekly communal life of the people of God.

Jesus celebrated the mighty acts of God at the festivals in Jerusalem (John 2:13, 23; 5:1; 7:14; 10:22; 11:55). Jesus joined other believers for the priestly rituals of sacrifice, praise and prayer in the temple. He ate the Passover lamb, prayed in the temple, and discussed the kingdom of God with the people and their leaders. Jesus participated in the communal life of Israel.

In community—both at the local synagogue and at the national temple—Jesus communed with his brothers and sisters through word (teaching), table (sacrificial meals), prayer, and praise. In the temple he stood with his brothers and sisters to hear the reading of the Torah. He listened to the praises of the Levitical choir that reverberated through the temple courts. He watched the sacrificial rituals and ate with his community at God’s table. In the synagogue he repeated the benedictions, said the prayers and listed to the reading of Scripture. He was both student and teacher at the synagogue. Jesus entered the presence of God at the temple with thousands and prayed with tens and hundreds in the synagogue. Jesus worshipped the Father with his brothers and sisters.

This communal life rehearsed the mighty acts of God in the history of Israel. As a participant, Jesus was shaped by this hearing and rehearing of God’s redemptive work in history. Again and again Jesus renewed his mission, remembered his identity, and communed with fellow-believers as he stood for prayer and praise in the both the temple and synagogue.

This communal life was no mere addendum to his mission nor was it incidental to his faith. It was an intricate part of his spirituality. Participation in the larger community is an anticipation of the community that surrounds the throne of God. Indeed, it is more than an anticipation, it is a foretaste—an actual participation—in that heavenly assembly. Our earthly assemblies are participations in the heavenly reality; to gather here is to assemble there. To praise God in the midst of the congregation here is to stand before the face of God there.

Assembling before the face of God is not the by-product of God’s salvation or our solitude with him, it is actually the goal of God’s creative and redemptive work. God celebrates his victory over sin and death by gathering his people around him. When we assemble, we celebrate that victory with God.

This is the experience of Jesus himself. As he hung on the cross, he felt forsaken as the darkness enveloped him. God himself mourned as Jesus lamented, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” But embedded in the lament is also a hope, an expectation. Jesus hoped in God’s redemption; he knew God would deliver him. Jesus lament is the first verse of Psalm 22, and that lament also cries out for rescue and salvation (22:21). Jesus expects to again stand in the midst of the congregation of God’s people and praise the Father. He will declare the name of God to his brothers and sisters as he testifies about God’s redemption (22:22). In the assembly Jesus will celebrate his deliverance and the victory over sin and death.

This is one of the reasons I love to assemble with the saints. As part of a community, I remember that I am not alone.  Worshipping as community, Iam reminded of the story. And especially when I have a difficult week–whether with grief, or resentment, or anger, or tragic circumstances, or job hassles, or family strife–intentionally coming before the throne with others encourages me, empowers me, and ultimately transforms me.  The move from Friday to Sunday, the move from hurt to praise, the move from loneliness to community is what I experience when I assemble with my brothers and sisters; it is where I, like Jesus, join the communal anthem of praise and testify to the mighy works of God in the past, my present experience of them, and the coming of God’s kingdom.

The preacher of Hebrews encourages his hearers that Jesus is honored to call us his brothers and sisters and even now stands in the midst of the assembly to declare the praise of God. As we assemble and sing God’s praises, Jesus sings with us. He stands at the center of the assembly to declare the victory and praise the Father. When we assemble, we gather around him and follow him in celebration and praise. Wherever two or three are gathered together, Jesus is present with them (Matthew 18:20).

Questions for Discussion:

1. What did you find interesting about the habits of Jesus in terms of gathering with his larger community?
2. Why do you think this was important to Jesus? How did it shape him as a human being?
3. How does the use of Psalm 22 on the lips of Jesus and in Hebrews 2 give you a vision for what assembling (gathering) means?
4. What is your experience of assembly? What does it mean to you?
5. What is the function of the assembly for the people of God today?

Harding on Rebaptism: “Rank Sectarianism”

James A. Harding was nothing if not passionate. His rhetoric in print could rattle chains and in homilies evoke tears, especially in his own eyes. Below is a good example as Harding lowers a firm and severe judgment against the growing position of rebaptism among Churches of Christ. I have highlighted a few lines which stress how he understood that rebaptism as practiced by the Texas Tradition of the Firm Foundation was heretical, sectarian and presumptuous. As you can sense, this was no “minor” disagreement. Unfortunately, I do not know the identity of the “Brother Editor” who penned the letter to Harding.

Harding wrote:

A brother, who is also an editor, in a private letter, writes to us as follows:

“I like The Way and hope it will succeed, for the warfare that it is waging is a holy one. We cannot have too many papers, if they are edited by close students of the word of God, who will make them reflect the spirit of the Master with the teachings of him and his apostles. From the attention you give to rebaptists, I conclude that you must have plenty of them in your country. I cannot but regard some of their notions as dangerous heresies. For instance, to require a confession of faith in a person, is the foundation of all creeds. The Nicene creed was formulated so that no one holding Aryan views could confess it, and rebaptists wish a confession that no one holding that baptism is because of the remission can make. But what a catalogue of confessions we would have to require if we attempted to provide in this way against other errors that are, indeed, just as dangerous! Universalists, soul sleepers, mystics, etc., would all have to be provided against, and we would need to require a confession that no one holding these heresies can make. [In other words, we would need a creed! JMH]

“I am constrained to believe, though I have never yet expressed myself publicly on this phase of the subject, that the only question that we have a right to ask any baptized person who applies to us for membership in the church is the one that Paul asked in Acts 19:3: ‘Into what then were ye baptized?’ In other words: By whose authority were you baptized? Where you baptized into the baptism authorized by John, or the one authorized by Christ? So to-day I believe we may ask: Were you baptized because the Baptist Church, Methodist Church, or some other church commanded it, or were you baptized understanding that it was by the authority of Christ? And no man nor angel can show authority for asking more. The premises by which we would prove that we may ask more would prove too much, because they would require us to aim a blow in our confessions at every error in Christendom; and in order that we might be able to do the thing in good form, a creed would be indispensable. The rebaptism agitation is plainly a step back to sectarianism, though all unmeant, of course, by its advocates.”

Thus far speaks our brother editor, and he is undoubtedly correct. To demand that a man shall understand that baptism is in order to forgiveness of sins as a prerequisite to baptism, and to stop with that, is the perfection of inconsistency; and, worse still, it is the adoption of the principle that caused all the creeds in Christendom; it is rank sectarianism. As we have repeatedly shown in these columns, the very word (“eis”) that connects baptism with remission connects it also with another and a greater blessing—greater inasmuch as the whole is greater than any of its parts. For example, we are not only baptized eis remission, but (which is a much greater thing) we are baptized “eis the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”—“into Christ.” All the spiritual blessings (of which remission of sins is one only) are found in Christ, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Baptism is the marriage ceremony in which we are united to Christ, in which we receive the family name, the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, the name “God,” so that we are henceforth called “the sons of God;” then, having been thus brought into the divine family, we begin to receive the promises of God, the remission of sins, the gift of the Holy Spirit; the daily protection, guidance, and blessing of God; the constant readiness of God to hear and answer our prayers, and so on. Paul exhorts the Colossians to give thanks unto the Father, “who made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light; who delivered us out of the power of darkness, and translated us into the kingdom of the Son of his love; in whom we have our redemption, the forgiveness of our sins.” In baptism, he who believes with his whole heart that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God, is made meet to be a partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light; he is delivered out of the power of darkness, and is translated into the kingdom of the Son of God’s love, in whom he receives the forgiveness of his sins: “For how many soever be the promises of God, in him is the yea: wherefore also through him is the Amen, unto the glory of God through us.” (2 Cor. 1:20.)

How any man can fail to see that it is inconsistent, unreasonable, and unscriptural to demand that the candidate for baptism must understand that baptism is for (eis) the remission of sins, and not also demand that he must understand that he is baptized into (eis) the name of the Father and of the son and of the Holy spirit, when the fact has been explained to him that the relationship in the two cases is expressed by the same word, “eis” (into), is one of the things hard for me to understand. I doubt if anything but the stupefying power of prejudice and party passion, of sectarian zeal, could also blind a man. I could as easily believe in infant membership, or sprinkling for baptism; and I believe that the prejudice which blinds the reimmerser, in this case, is as dense and as bitterly sectarian as that which beclouds the mind of the sprinkler or the baptizer of babies.

All that Christ demands of a man as a prerequisite to baptism is believe with the heart (intellect, affections, and will) that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God. He who demands more than this demands too much. He is more particular than God; he presumes to require of him who would enter into the divine family more than God himself requires. He exalts himself above God by assuming that he can complete that which God, for some cause, left imperfect. He is too wise, too good. To such a one Solomon wisely says: “Be not righteous overmuch; neither make thyself overwise: why shouldest thou destroy thyself?”

Of the man who has not been immersed, but who desires to be, we have the right to ask: Do you believe with your heart that God raised Jesus from the dead, and do you confess him as your Lord? (See Rom. 10:9, 10.) And of the man who has been immersed, and who desires to work and worship in fellowship with us, we have a right to ask: Did you believe with your heart that God raised Jesus from the dead, and did you confess him as your Lord? Who cannot see that the same state of mind and heart that prepares a man for baptism at my hands prepares him to receive the institution at the hands of any other?

The trouble with those people whom Paul immersed again at Ephesus (Acts 19:1-7) was, they did not believe that God had raised Jesus from the dead, nor had they confessed him as their Lord. They had only been baptized into John’s baptism for (into) the remission of sins. They had been baptized into John instead of into Jesus. But the baptism of John had ceased on the earth, and that of Jesus had been commanded. So Paul said unto them: “John baptized with the baptism of repentance, saying unto the people, that they should believe on him who should come after him, that is, on Jesus.” And when they heard this, “they were baptized into the name of the Lord Jesus.” This is the only case of rebaptism in the New Testament. These people were baptized, in the first place, “for [eis] the remission of sins;” but they did not believe in the resurrection of Jesus, nor were they baptized into him. When we find people who have been immersed; but who did not believe in the resurrection of Jesus, and who did not take him as their Lord, we ought to instruct them in the way of the Lord more perfectly; and when they do so believe and confess, we ought to reimmerse them. But no man has a right to reimmerse another who was baptized believing in Jesus as the resurrected Son of God and confessing him as his Lord. He who does it is “righteous overmuch;” he has made himself “overwise;” and he is in danger of destruction. Solomon says to him, “Why shouldest thou destroy thyself?” and Paul exhorts us to learn “not to go beyond the things which are written.” It is as dangerous to add to as it is to take from the word of God; and every division that has arisen among the people of God, so far as I remember, began in adding to, rather than in taking from, the requirements of Christ.

James A. Harding, “What a Brother Editor Thinks, With Some Comments Thereon,” The Way 2 (July 1900) 98 (emphases are mine, JMH).

JMH Comments:

1. Harding is a stickler for Alexander Campbell’s fundamental insight that all that is required for immersion is a trust in Christ, that is, to believe that he is the Christ, the Son of God (this confession–involving the affections and will as well intellect–includes repentance). 
2. Harding recognizes that a biblical baptismal theology is fundamentally about entering into a relationship with the Father, Son and Spirit rather than exclusively focused on the remission of sins as the design of baptism. That relationship is a “greater blessing” than the remission of sins itself because it is more inclusive of all the benefits God gives to his people through baptism. And clearly understanding the meaning of being baptized “into” the communion of the Father, Son and Spirit is not something any one fully understands at their baptism. Instead of understanding, believers trustingly obey and the Father gives what he promised even when we do not understand what we are receiving.
3. Harding recognizes that “rebaptists” are fundamentally sectarian in several ways.  (a) They add to the requirements of the Lord for salvation and thus bind something that God did not bind which places them in the position of exalting themselves above God.  (b) They divide the body of Christ by presuming that some are not part of the body when they are.  (c) They substitute a creed for the confession. (d) Their zeal to identify themselves as distinct from the Baptists has blinded them to their own factionalism.
4. The disciples in Acts 19 were actually baptized for the remission of sins under John’s baptismal commission. They were rebaptized because they did not understand the confession of Jesus as Lord and giver of the Holy Spirit. If rebaptists are consistent, according to Harding, then anyone who did not understand that God gives his Spirit through baptism (as a promise attached to baptism) should also be rebaptized.  Baptism is as much for the giving of the Spirit as it is the remission of sins. Indeed, Harding would stress that the giving of the Spirit–entering into personal relationship with God through the Holy Spirit–is more fundamental and a greater blessing than the remission of sins itself.

Old JMH Articles: Five From the 1970s

This is quite daring, I must admit. Or, it might be rather idiotic. But in my quest to place my published writings on this webpage, I now turn to the 1970s. 

It is rather chilling and sometimes quite illuminating to actually read what I wrote thirty years ago (wow! I really am that old). It is chilling because I find myself cringing at my wording, sometimes my views and often at my insensitivity. It is illuminating because I see my own development and I also see the first inklings or seeds of thought that will develop with time. 

I submitted articles to a wide variety of papers in the 1970s.  Three are represented below and I will share others with you as I digitize them.  Once I have completed the task, I will take some time to reflect on my early rush to print and use myself as a case study on theological development. When the below articles were written I was 20-22 years old (my birthday is July 15, 1957).  Consequently, I will give myself a break for my weaknesses, immaturity and mistakes (including bad grammar….but that one has not changed much).

“Are We Born Sinners?,” Firm Foundation 95.10 (7 March 1978) 150, 155.

This article originated from an independent study with Rubel Shelly at Freed-Hardeman University on Calvinism. Since I was planning to attend a Calvinist seminary in the Fall of 1977, I wanted to study it and Rubel accomodated me.  This piece reflects the debater mentality I had at the time as I formulated my arguments in syllogistic form. But the major problem with the article is that I keep talking about “total depravity” when really my article is about “original guilt,” that is, are we born guilty of Adam’s sin.  I still reject original guilt, but I am unfair here with my use of the phrase “total depravity” and it is a superficial understanding of it.  I still like the argument from Ezekiel 18, however, and the distinction between “bear the sins of another” as a matter of consequence rather than guilt–sometimes it refers to consequences, sometimes it refers to guilt, and sometimes it refers to both.  It depends on the context.

“Creational Law,” Bible Herald 26.18 (1 September 1978) 283.

This article was a byproduct of my book with Bruce L. Morton entitled Woman’s Role in the Church (1978, noted in the article).  It was my attempt at recognizing a creational ethic–an ethic rooted in creation.  The article roots the permanency of marriage, male spiritual leadership and heterosexuality in creation.  Unfortunately, this is an article where my insensitivity and dogmatism shine brightly.  For example, instead of writing about male spiritual leadership I write about “female subordination” (I cringe even now as I type those two words together).  The article is, of course, much too simplistic. Yet, at the same time, I continue to believe there is such a thing as a creational ethic and such an ethic is normative as reflective of God’s intent for human beings to live as his imagers. 

“The Authority of Paul: Its Authenticity,” Firm Foundation 95.43 (24 October 24 1978) 676, 682.

This article arose out of discussions with some people close to me who tended to dismiss Paul, and it also was a byproduct of my contributions to book on the role of women.  I focus on the apostolic authority of Paul and the binding nature of his writings.  Here again I am much too simplistic. While I would still, of course, recognize Paul’s authority as an apostle and recognize that he exercises that authority through writing as well as word, the article has little or no sensititivity to the occasional and cultural horizon’s of Paul’s writings.  My use of 2 Corinthians 10-13 in this article, however, is a seed for my more developed understanding of Paul’s self-understanding as a prophet of the new covenant analogous to Jeremiah’s function as a prophet.

 ”Unto You Young Men: Treatise on Tongues,” World Evangelist 7.6 (1 January 1979) 17.

This article is a byproduct of my first book A Teenager Speaks on Spiritual Gifts (1977) which was written when I was 14-15 years old and published by Ira Y. Rice, Jr. Basil Overton, who was a good friend of my father’s, invited me to contribute something for the column “Unto You Young Men.”  So, I adapted something from the book. I argue–in good debating style once again–that the tongue speakers in Corinth understood their own speech. It was not “unknown” to them; they understood what they were praying and were edified by it.  Consequently, when contemporary tongue speakers claim they can neither understand nor control what they are saying, they betray the reality that they do not themselves have the same gift that the Corinthians had. Whether the argument remains effective, I will leave for you to decide.  On another day I will comment on my own development on this point which is not necessarily a denial of the claim that I am making in the article itself.  However, my insensitivity to those who experience tongue-speaking as edifying in their own lives is all too evident in the article.

“Baptism as Putting on Christ,” Firm Foundation 96.37 (11 September 1979) 582.

This article is a brief summary of a research paper I completed under Dr. Moises Silva at Westminster Theological Seminary when I took his course on Galatians (the second week of the class we had an exam to test our translation of Galatians!). It was a great class, and I–as a good Stone-Campbell traditionalist and polemicist–wrote my paper on Galatians 3:26-27.    It was a kind of “turning-point” paper for me because it opened some theological doors for me.  I began to see baptism as about more than the “remission of sins.” Rather, it participates in the instrumentality of faith for justification and sanctification.  “Putting on Christ” is a metaphor for both forensic and ethical aspects of salvation.  When I digitized this piece for presentation here, I was surprised to see how strongly I stressed the imputation of righteousness and how I had already adopted the Reformed language of “means” for baptismal theology (see my last paragraph).

Over the next few weeks I will be working on completing my “published”  articles for the website.  I have several more in the 1970s and 1980s, and then I hope to soon complete formatting my dissertation so that I might offer it here as well.

Whether this is of any benefit or not only you can judge for yourself.   Blessings, JMH

My “Contending for the Faith” Articles–More 1970s

Yes, it is true. I wrote articles for Contending for the Faith, edited by Ira Y. Rice, Jr., in the late 1970s.

Ira Y. Rice, Jr. was a good friend of my father Mark N. Hicks.

Ira would stay in our home, it seemed, at least once a year. He would either hold a meeting or at least speak on a Sunday evening or Wednesday evening when he visited. Sometimes he was raising money for Far East missions as he encouraged missions and evangelism, and at other times he was warning the church about the inroads of liberalism within the brotherhood. I rememberd him fondly because he would always leave a dollar in my shoes when he visited.

Ira published my first book A Teenager Speaks on Spiritual Gifts (1977). That is a story I will tell on another occasion perhaps but here I will only say that on one of his visits my father showed him the manuscript. I had written it for my Bible study group at the High School when I was 14-15. Ira asked if he could publish it–and what was a sixteen year old to say? Well, yes, of course! 

My relationship continued with Ira in the late 1970s. I invited him to hold a meeting with the NE Philadelphia Church of Christ (Philadelphia, PA) in Fall of 1978 (I think that was the date). We spent quite a bit of time together those few days, and I remember he warned me about attending Westminster Theological Seminary. I attended Westminster from 1977-1979 when I was 20-21 years old.

As I think back my camaraderie with Rice was a mixture of naivete, influence-seeking, and shared convictions at many levels. I was naive about the politics of the church. I sought a measure of influence and power within the “brotherhood”–and Rice was a clear power broker as well as a family friend. And I did share some basic theological viewpoints with him. The two articles below certainly make that clear.

Ultimately as my perspectives changed–though they changed rather slowly–we parted ways. When I began teaching at Harding University Graduate School of Religion in 1991, our fellowship was fully broken as he regarded the Graduate School as a troubler in Israel. One would only need to scan issues of Contending for the Faith to see his animosity toward the institution because he believed it was a threat to the church as he understood it.

Ira was passionate. He promoted missions in many local churches across the country. He advocated the desegregation of our educational institutions when it was anathema to many, rebuked Foy E. Wallace, Jr.’s racism (Rice was the young preacher who slept in the same bed with R. N. Hogan), and he wanted concrete congregational unity between white and black churches. In terms of racial progress, he was one of the few on the progressive edge. This is one of the dimensions that he admired about where my father preached for years in Alexandria, Virginia–it was a congregation of Koreans, African-Americans, Hispanics and Anglo-Saxons.

Ira certainly had his faults and sins as we all do. I cannot nor will I judge the man but neither will I sanction all that he did or said.  I may disagree with him theologically and with some of his strategies, but I can still appreciate the righteousness of some of his causes.

The two articles below indicate that at one time, however, I shared some of his most cherished convictions:  (1) the authority of elders and (2) the sanctification of the believer by the Spirit through the word alone.

“The Lordship of Elders,” Contending for the Faith 10.3 (March 1979) 9-10.

I originally submitted this piece to the Firm Foundation as a response to an editorial by Reuel Lemmons but he declined to publish it because there had been too many articles on the subject at the time. So, Ira published it. The article is negative in tone and intends to demonstrate that 1 Peter 5:1-3 does not undermine the idea that elders have “positional” (official) authority, that is, they have ultimate authority to make decisions about expedients for a congregation. The stress on “positional authority” is an idea that lingers from my book on women’s role in 1978 where it is argued that men have “positional authority” over women (I’m inwardly cringing as I type). Nevertheless, there are still some good exegetical points in the piece–”lording it over” is a form of tyranny.  Unfortunately, I did not have the wisdom or experience to see that tyranny is often expressed under the guise of “positional authority” over expedients.

“The Doctrine of Sanctification,” Contending for the Faith 9.11 (November 1978) 1, 3-6.

This is an unusally lengthy piece for Contending for the Faith. It was partly the result of a research paper at Westminster Theological Seminary but I turned it toward specific issues among Churches of Christ. After surveying Calvinists, Wesleyan and Pentecostal versions of sanctification, I offer my own “biblical” version. My understanding of sanctification, however, only involves the mediate work of the Holy Spirit through the word.  I deny the personal indwelling of the Holy Spirit, deny the “enabling” work of the Spirit in the life of the believer, and deny any direct work of the Spirit on the heart of the believer. Rather, since sanctification is through the word, the indwelling of the Spirit is also through the word.

As I read it again, I was struck with how much my “logic” jumps from one thought to another, from one text to another.  I draw conclusions from and string texts together in ways that are quite troubling to me now.  My hermeneutical models and practices were still quite emeshed in traditional proof-texting.

Also, I now recognize that my analysis of Wesleyanism in particular was quite superficial and at times just plain wrong (e.g., indwelling Spirit only comes through second work of grace in perfectionism….NOT!).  What I did have right, I think, is how the Pentecostal Holiness movement substituted the experience of Holy Spirit Baptism for Wesley’s Holy Spirit experience that enabled his version of Christian perfection.  While some of the historical details are correct, the conclusions I draw and the projections I place upon Calvinists, Wesleyans and Pentecostals are prejudiced by my objective in the piece.

There is more to come from the 1970s. I just have to find the time to digitize them.  And I know all my friends are waiting impatiently for them. 

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice VIII

Enlisting Other Apprentices

After this he went out and saw a tax collector named Levi, sitting at the tax booth. And he said to him, “Follow me.” And leaving everything, he rose and followed him. Luke 5:27-28

And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” Luke 9:23

Now great crowds accompanied him, and he turned and said to them, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple…So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.” Luke 14:25-27, 33

And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men.” Mark 1:17

He also told them this parable: “Can a blind man lead a blind man? Will they not both fall into a pit? A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully trained will be like his teacher.” Luke 6:40

Jesus, God’s apprentice in human life, apprenticed others. He mentored Peter, James, John and other disciples. As he followed God by imitating and imaging God in a truly human life, so Jesus called others to follow him.

“Follow me,” Jesus says. To follow him is to deny ourselves. To deny ourselves is to take up our cross and die to ourselves. To die to ourselves is to open ourselves to becoming like Jesus who is our life, our mentor for a new life. To become like Jesus is to give ourselves to others through mentoring others in this new life.

Our life in Jesus means imitating Jesus by entering into his life. We follow Jesus into the water and are baptized. We follow Jesus into the wilderness and seek solitude with God. We follow Jesus into intimacy with others and seek out friends with whom we can reveal our true selves. We follow Jesus by taking up his mission in the world. We follow Jesus by apprenticing others just as he apprenticed his own disciples.

The mission of Jesus depends on apprenticing others, mentoring others in the faith. We do not become disciples of Jesus in solitude or alone. We become disciples through community and apprenticeship. Others took us under their wing. They taught us, modeled life for us, invited us to walk with them and mentored us. The faith is embraced by others through disciples become like Jesus and apprenticing others in the Way.

“Fully trained” means fully equipped or qualified. When disciples complete their training, they are models of their teacher. When one completes an apprenticeship, they pursue their assigned tasks fully equipped to become like their teacher. They are equipped to be mentors as well. They tutor others whom they apprentice in the life of faith.

The call to discipleship—the invitation to participate in the life of God through Jesus—involves discipling others. Following Jesus entails inviting others to follow him as well.

Apprentices become practitioners, and practitioners become mentors.

Questions for Discussion:

1. Who has mentored you in the faith? Who was your first mentor? What qualities did they have? Who is your mentor now?
2. What does it mean to be “fully trained” in order to be like Jesus as a mentor?’
3. Whom do you mentor now? Do you feel qualified to mentor? Why or why not? If not, what do you lack to be a mentor?
4. How can the church encourage mentorship? How can it equip others for mentoring and encourage apprentices?

Breaking Bread in Luke-Acts I

My interest has recently been rekindled in thinking about “breaking bread” in several ways.  Recently, I have received several emails asking questions, seeking more information and wanting deeper reflection on the exegetical as well as theological dimensions of what Luke describes as “breaking bread.” 

More specifically, in recent months I have read Justin Rogers’ piece in the 2008 Freed-Hardeman Lectureship book (pp. 418-426; get a pdf file of all the published lectureships from 1953-2009 here for $25).  Justin is currently a Ph.D. student at Hebrew Union College and serves the “Church of Christ that meets at Loveland Heights, Ohio” as Youth Minister. I do not know Justin but would enjoy getting to know him. His work is a substantial piece; it is a credible piece and deserves attention.  I shall give it some. 

What intrigued–and, to be honest, perlexed–me is a statement that “Hicks assumes that the breaking of bread is the Lord’s Supper without laboring to prove his case. Throughout the work, he seems to be more interested in a theological rather than a textual point of view” (p. 421).   While I do not recognize myself in that statement since I want to think theologically on the basis of exegesis and not without it, I will not quibble here about it other than to leave it to readers of my Come to the Table to assess whether Justin is correct or not. To the extent that he is (which I honestly don’t think is very much ), I will remedy this in a few posts in this series.

In this initial post I will summarize his argument and conclusions as fairly as I am able.

He correctly notes that describing a meal by “breaking bread” is rather novel in the first century as it only occurs three times in the Hebrew Bible (Isaiah 58:7; Jeremiah 16:7; Lamentations 4:4). It is a Hebraic expression as evidenced by its absence in Greek and Latin texts. Yet, as Rogers notes, Luke and other NT authors (Matthew, Mark, and Paul) used this peculiar phrase rather than the more normal “eat.” Indeed, I might add, Luke uses “eat bread” on several occasions (e.g., Luke 14:1). So it raises the interesting question of why Luke (in particular) uses “break” at times and “eat” at other times. Does he have something special or unique in mind when he uses “break bread”? I think so…but I digress.

Justin outlines three positions (p. 419): (1) Breaking bread is always a common meal; (2) Breaking bread is always the Lord’s Supper; and (3) Breaking bread may mean a common meal at times and the Lord’s Supper at other times. I would add a fourth possibility (4) Breaking bread is the Lord’s meal (it is both food–a meal–and embodies the special meaning of proclaiming the gospel; it is the Lord’s Supper as a meal with festive food). Justin recognizes this as a position at the bottom of page 420.

Concerning common meal (1), Justin notes that many read Acts 2:46 and the feedings in the Gospel (Matthew 14:19; 15:36; Mark 6:41; 8:6, 19; Luke 9:16) this way as well as the post-resurrection meal in Luke 24:35. But he responds that the “breaking bread” is certainly sometimes something more or different than a mere common meal as 1 Corinthians 10:16 evidences (there it is the bread by which we commune with the body of Christ). He does not think the evidence of the feedings is germane to the Lord’s Supper because “they occur before the crucifixion, and thus prior to the institution of the Lord’s Supper” (p. 420). [That is a piece of dispensational hermeneutics which I think is flawed.]

Concerning the identification (2), Justin does not think we can say “breaking bread” is always the Lord’s Supper, that is, the Supper as bread and wine, not as a meal. One of the primary reasons, it seems, is that 1 Corinthians 11 is “serious and somber” in mood while Acts 2:46 is “rather joyous and jubilant” (p. 421). This reflects, as Justin notes, the distinction Lietzmann made between the “Jerusalem” type of supper and the “Pauline” type of supper. [Oscar Cullmann, I believe, effectively countered this absolute distinction in his Essays on the Lord's Supper, but that is for another time.]

But Justin’s denial of “always” for (2)  is rooted in further details. First, the absence of wine in the phrase “breaking bread” indicates that it was not probably part of the practice of these meals due to its expense [but it was part of the Passover where Jesus broke bread]. Thus, the daily breaking of bread is probably not the Lord’s Supper which needs wine. Second, if “breaking bread” was the technical term for the Lord’s Supper, “why did thanksgiving (eucharistia) become the primary technical term for the Supper in the early second century?” (p. 422). [Primary, yes, but certainly not the only technical phrase used to describe it and "breaking bread" was one that was used.] Third, why would starving sailors “celebrate the Lord’s Supper” when they had not eaten for fourteen days in Acts 27:33-38? [Perhaps because it was a meal.]

Concerning the “breaking of bread as Both Common Meal and the Lord’s Supper” (3), sometimes breaking bread is the Lord’s Supper and sometimes it is a common meal; only context can determine. Here Justin describes his own perspective by looking at each text in Acts. Acts 2:42 is “ambiguous, and any reference to the Lord’s Supper must be imposed on it” (p. 422) since the definitive description “the bread” is not determinative as illustrated by the article in Luke 24:35 also. [This is an important point often overlooked by those who wish to make the article in 2:42 the critical point, and many of those advocates would ignore the article in Acts 20:11 as well and think it a common meal rather than the Lord's Supper.]  Acts 2:46 is “also ambiguous” since “food” does not necessarily entail a meal (e.g., Justin Martyr refers to the Eucharistic bread as “food”). So, both Acts 2 texts are ambiguous and do “not leave us with enough evidence to draw a firm conclusion” (p. 423). [I find this a courageous conclusion in a FHU lectureship book, and I admire Justin's willingess to go where the evidence leads him.]

Acts 20:7, however, is often regarded as the Lord’s Supper “because the text specifically mentions the ‘first day of the week’” but we also know early Christians ate the Agape meal on Sundays too (p. 423). Even the custom of gathering on the first day of the week to eat a meal was an established custom for a common meal, according to Justin, as seen in Luke 24:41-43; John 20:19, 26. So, perhaps the church at Troas come together to simply “eat a common meal with their beloved Paul” (p. 424). Justin, however, does think Acts 20:7 is the Lord’s Supper eaten on Sunday but a “firm conclusion is questionable” (p. 425). [Again, an amazingly courageous and honest statement.]

So, his conclusion is that breaking bread is not always the Lord’s Supper and was not a “technical term for the Supper” (contra my book). The prhase sometimes describes the Lord’s Supper and sometimes a meal, but never both at the same time. “Ultimately,” he writes, “to achieve clarity, we must sumon the voices of the early second century fathers, who observed the Lord’s Supper on Sunday, and referrred to the meal as the Eucharist” (p. 425).

Consequently, it is most likely that Acts 20:7, 11 refer to the Lord’s Supper but “to prove from the Bible alone that this is the case is difficult. Any Eucharsitic reading of the phrase ‘breaking bread’ must be considered theoretical” (p. 425, emphases mine). History must decide. “The uniform practice of celebrating the Supper on Sunday alone was likely a tradition with the direct stamp of apostolic approval. It is thus entirely consistent with our evidence to conclude that at least Acts 20:7, 11 is an example of the Lord’s Supper being described as ‘the breaking of bread’” (p. 426).

In appreciation, I do honor Justin’s attention to the sources–both historical and biblical. It is evident that he has read significantly in the literature. His open investigation is welcome and he is not boxed in by traditional interpretation (as his reading of Acts 2:42 and 2:46 illustrate). So, I truly appreciate the article.

However, I do think it flawed. I will offer details in coming posts (I don’t know how many at this time). But permit me to introduce some broad perspectives at this point.

1. At one level, I do not think he sufficiently accounts for the narratival context of Luke’s language. Reading Luke as a narrative whole with a plot thread about “breaking bread” is more holistic and contextual than the atmoistic dissection of specific texts. (I will say more about this in my next post).
2. At another level, his reliance on the second century (with an astounding statement–though it may be true–that the “Bible alone” is not sufficient to establish with certainty a Sunday only practice of the Lord’s Supper) is flawed, that is, the second century was not “Sunday alone” and the early second century was meal-based. (But more on that later).
3. At another level, his basic assumption seems to be–ruled out presuppositionally it appears to me, but I may be wrong–that “breaking of bread” could never refer to the Lord’s Supper as a meal with bread, wine and food because the Lord’s Supper is only bread and wine. This presupposition seems to lurk underneath his argument about the meaning of specific texts (e.g., the comment about Acts 27 assumes that breaking bread could not be the Lord’s Supper because they were hungry and needed a meal).

Nevertheless, I welcome the dialogue and I appreciate his work. It is thorough in many ways–as much as space would permit in a crowded lectureship book–and it surveys some of the ground quite nicely. It deserves engagement which I am happy to do in a few posts to come.

Thanks for your work, brother Rogers. It is a welcome addition to the discussion.

Old JMH Articles: 1970s Gospel Advocate

 With these below and my previous posts (1970s articles and Contending for the Faith articles), I collected my twelve articles that were published from 1977-1979 when I was 20-22 years old.   In a future post I will reflect on my theological journey through those years (maybe ).

“Holy Spirit Baptism in 1 Corinthians 12:13?” Gospel Advocate 119 (October 27, 1977) 679-80.

 I set up a false dilemma in this article: either believe the Pentecotal version of Holy Spirit Baptism (a post-conversion experience including speaking in tongues) or accept that 1 Corinthians 12:13 is submission to water baptism as taught by the Holy Spirit without any direct connection to the Spirit. This article clearly indicates that I stilled lived in the world of “word only” and had a fundamental adversion to any direct work of the Spirit. I failed to see that the water and Spirit could both be elements in one baptism and that the experience of the Spirit is not merely cognitive (“through the word”).

“Equal, But Subordinate,” Gospel Advocate 120 (June 29, 1978) 405, 410.

This is a polemical piece directed against a statement made by Norman Parks who stated subordination entailed inferiority.  In response I parallel the relationship between the Father and the Son to the relationship of male and female based on 1 Corinthians 11:3. While the Father and Son are equal in essence (both divinitas), the Son is “subordinate” to the Father in terms of subsistence (filiation; he is a Son) and operation (submits to the Father’s direction in redemptive history). Likewise, so I argue, while male and female are equal in essence (both humanitas), women are “subordinate” to men in their function and role in the family and church (but not world?, I would ask now).  The parallel is too simplistically drawn and does not take account of incarnational Christology.

“Did He Understand?” Gospel Advocate 120 (November 16, 1978) 727.

This article is the same as the one published in the World Evangelist 7.6 (1 January 1979) 17.  The link takes you to the World Evangelist printing.  I argue–in good debating style–that the tongue speakers in Corinth understood their own speech. It was not “unknown” to them; they understood what they were praying and were edified by it.  Consequently, when contemporary tongue speakers claim they can neither understand nor control what they are saying, they betray the reality that they do not themselves have the same gift that the Corinthians had. Whether the argument remains effective, I will leave for you to decide.  On another day I will comment on my own development on this point which is not necessarily a denial of the claim that I am making in the article itself.  However, my insensitivity to those who experience tongue-speaking as edifying in their own lives is all too evident in the article.

“Good, Better, Best,” Gospel Advocate 121 (March 29, 1979) 196.

This is the article that I like the best of all that I wrote in the 1970s though it still has its flaws. It reflects that I was already thinking eschatologically though it did not necessarily affect the structure of my theology as yet.  While life here is abundant in Christ (“good”), to die is gain because to be with Christ is “better” than the present. Yet, the “best” life is the resurrected life. The article is a theology of “body” (soma)–present physical body, the disembodied intermediate state, and the furture resurrection body.  As I read it today, I fear that I underplay present life where God locates us and values us, and I fear that the article may depend too much on “living in the future” rather than being the body of Christ in the present.

“We Do Not Well!” Gospel Advocate 121 (October 18, 1979) 644, 648.

This article arose from one of my homilies. It is probably a good example of how I preached in the late 1970s (but hopefully too typical ). I took a text, and then used the text to scold the congregation about a point that is not really the point of the text. The use of the second greatest commandment is interesting though forced, but the tone and “superior” attitude I see in myself is distasteful and disturbing. The topic is evangelism based on 2 Kings 7:9.

Breaking Bread in Luke-Acts II: Narratival Context

My first post in this series summarized and lightly critiqued a piece by Justin Rogers at the FHU lectureship in 2008. Here I turn my attention to the flow of Luke’s narrative which offers us the “big picture.” With Justin I recognize some level of ambiguity, especially in terms of the specific texts themselves. However, I believe that a narrative approach illuminates Luke’s plot in a way that reduces that ambiguity. If we suspend the presuppositions that the Lord’s Supper is only bread and wine, only on Sunday and closed to everyone but believers, I think the narrative speaks with a fairly clear voice.

While each occasion of “breaking bread” must be considered in the context of its specific pericope, the larger–and perhaps more formative as it should shape how we read each speicific text–context is Luke’s whole two-volume narrative.  This is my starting point. What is the narrative context, plot and meaning of “breaking of bread” in the Luke-Acts narrative? In other words, what is the narrative’s big picture?

Of course, there is a reciprocal relationship between a specific pericope and the larger narrative. One will contextualize the other. At the same time, the narrative develops its plot and chooses its words in order to connect the whole with the part. Consequently, as we read something late in the narrative we should we aware that the author may have alerted us to its meaning and function by something earlier in the narrative.  Or, another way of putting that, the narrative plot developed in the previous narrative is a lens through which we read the remaing narrative. Or, more specifically, can it be that the Gospel of Luke is the lens through which we read the history in Acts?  I think so. 

General Observations

Breaking bread is a rather rare Hebraic expression. It is not found in ancient Greek and Latin texts and it only appears  three times (Isaiah 58:7; Jeremiah 16:7; Lamentations 4:4).  It probably derives from the first ritual act of a meal–the act of blessing or thanksgiving (analogous to “saying grace” but with some concrete act regarding the food).  Consequently, “breaking bread” is a part for the whole; it is a reference to the whole meal by noting the first act of the meal itself.

Luke distinguishes between “eat bread” (Luke 7:33; 14:1, 15) and “break bread.”  Why does Luke use this different language? It may be stylistic, but it may also reflect some theological intentionality. That is, Luke intends to convey something with “breaking bread” that is more Christological, more Messianic. This is apparent, it seems to me, when “breaking bread” is only used in redemptive contexts–they are meals pregnant with soteriological meaning.

Luke uses “bread” as a metaphor for “food” (cf. Luke 4:3; 9:3; 11:3, 11; 15:17). To “break bread,” then, for Luke is to eat a meal. The only time Luke uses “bread” in Acts is in the phrase ”breaking bread.” In Acts he focuses on this meal that the new community of disciples ate together which, in the narrative plot of Luke-Acts, is rooted in the Messianic table of Jesus.

The Breaking Bread Texts

The fourfold formula occurs in three of the six pericopes in Luke’s narrative–all of them in his Gospel:  (1) he took or taking (a from of lambano), (2)  he blessed (eulogeo) or gave thanks (eucharisteo), (3) he broke (katakleo, klao, klasis), and (4) gave (didomi). The fourfold expression is repeated in liturgical literature in the second and third centuries as part of the words of institution and liturgically re-enacted.

Below are the “breaking bread” texts in the literal translation of the 1901 ASV:

• Luke 9:16 – “And he took (labon) the five loaves and the two fishes, and looking up to heaven, he blessed (eulogesen) them, and brake (kateklasen); and gave (edidou) to the disciples to set before the multitude.”
• Luke 22:19 – “And he took (labon) bread, and when he had given thanks (eucharistesas), he brake (eklasen) it, and gave (edoken) to them, saying, This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me.”
• Luke 24:30 –  ”And it came to pass, when he had sat down with them to meat, he took (labon) the bread and blessed (eulogesen); and breaking (klasas) it he gave (epedidou) to them.”
• Luke 24:35 – “And they rehearsed the things that happened in the way, and how he was known of them in the breaking (klasei) of the bread.”
• Acts 2:42 – “And they continued stedfastly in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking (klasei) of [the] bread and the prayers.”
• Acts 2:46 – ” And day by day, continuing stedfastly with one accord in the temple, and breaking (klontes) bread at home, they took (metelambanon) their food (trophes) with gladness and singleness of heart,”
• Acts 20:7 – “And upon the first day of the week, when we were gathered together to break (klasai)  [the] bread, Paul discoursed with them, intending to depart on the morrow; and prolonged his speech until midnight.”
• Acts 20:11 – “And when he was gone up, and had broken (klasas) the bread, and eaten (geusamenos), and had talked with them a long while, even till break of day, so he departed.”
• Acts 27:35-38 – “And when he had said this, and had taken (labon) bread, he gave thanks (eucharistesen) to God in the presence of all; and he brake (klasas) it, and began to eat (esthiein). Then were they all of good cheer, and themselves also took (proseabonto) food (trophes). And we were in all in the ship two hundred threescore and sixteen souls. And when they had eaten enough (trophes), they lightened the ship, throwing out the wheat into the sea.”

I think it is significant that the fourfold formula appears in the Gospel but does not appear in Acts. I suggest that the Acts usage of “breaking bread” depends on the Gospel. Since Luke has already narrated the theological meaning of “breaking bread” through the feeding in the wilderness, the Passover meal and the post-resurrection meals, there is no need to repeat that in Acts.  It is assumed.

When we encounter “breaking bread” in Acts 2:42 and throughout the Acts narrative, Luke intends us to use theological lens he gave us in his Gospel for understanding what that is.  It does not appear in Acts ex nihilo; rather, it appears out of the matrix of what Luke did with that language in the significant Messianic contexts of Luke 9, 22, and 24.

It is analogous to reading the triology Lord of the Rings.  While the first volume The Fellowship of the Ring gives lots of attention to the Hobbits’ Shire, the second volume–Two Towers–does not.  Why? It is assumed that the reader of the second volume already understands the significance of the Shire from the first volume. Consequently, Tolkien can use “Shire” in the second volume without explanation.

I think this is what Luke does.  He narrates the theological significance of “breaking bread” in his Gospel, but only uses shorthand in Acts. He simply refers to the “breaking of bread” with the confidence that the reader should understand its meaning from his Gospel.

The Plot Line

So, what is the narrative plot line regarding “breaking bread”? The below chart pictures the flow itself as the Gospel and Acts are hinged by the significant theological statement that Jesus is revealed in the Breaking of the Bread (Luke 24:35). This is the theological meaning of breaking bread. In this meal the risen Christ is recognized, revealed, made known, seen or experienced.

• Luke 9:  A Messianic Event–Feeding Israel in the Wilderness
  • Luke 22: A Messianic Event–The Passover Fulfilled
    • Luke 24: A Messianic Event–A Resurrection Meal

Luke 24:35–Hinge Text: Jesus is Revealed in the Breaking of the Bread

• Acts 2: Messianic Community Devoted to the Breaking of Bread
  • Acts 20: Messianic Community Gathered to Break Bread
    • Acts 27: Messianic Community Breaks Bread with Others for Hope

The Gospel narrates the meaning in terms of Jesus’ Messianic function in Luke 9. He is the Christ; he feeds his people manna in the wilderness. He serves his people and redeems their hunger, which is symbolic of much more than mere physical hunger. The Gospel narrates the Passover meal in which Jesus announces the coming kingdom–the next time he eats and drinks with them at Passover it will be in the kingdom of God. The “breaking of bread” is the experience of Passover in the kingdom of God.  The Gospel narrates the post-resurrection meals with the disciples. They eat and drink with the risen Christ.  Significantly, Jesus is the host of each of these meals; he breaks the bread and gives thanks. These are the only times he actually hosts in the Gospel.

Acts continues the story but with abbreviated language.  The new Messianic community devotes itself to breaking bread, that is, eating with the risen Christ in community. Acts 2 pictures a community daily gathering to break bread. Acts 20 is the experience of the risen Christ through the rising of Eutyches. When the disciples came together to break bread on the first day of the week, they experienced resurrection.  Acts 27 is a parable or symbolic of the mission of Christ to include the Gentiles as the sailors and soldiers are invited to share in the breaking of bread as an assurance of their salvation from death in the coming shipwreck.

 The hinge between the Gospel and Acts is Luke 24:35.  It announces what “breaking bread” does–it reveals the living Christ; it is an experience of the living Christ. In each of the pericopes–Luke 9, 22, 24; Acts 2, 20, 27–God gives life both in the present and with hope for the future.

Reflections

First, every occasion for “breaking bread” was hopeful and redemptive; God was present in a redemptive way.

• Luke 9: the Messiah feeds his hungry people in the wilderness.
• Luke 22: the Messiah  announces the coming of the kingdom with eating and drinking at the Passover, anticipating eating and drinking with them in the future kindom.
• Luke 24: the resurrected Messiah breaks bread and eats with his disciples as he commissions them to take up his mission.
• Acts 2: the newly baptized community is devoted to the breaking of bread as they eat together every day with joy and praise
• Acts 20: the community gathered to break bread and celebrated the resurrection of Jesus in the presence of the resurrected Eutyches.
• Acts 27: sailors, soldiers and prisoners break bread in the hope of salvation from death in the coming shipwreck.

Second, every occasion involves food or a meal.

• Luke 9: after the breaking of bread, it is a meal of bread and fish.
• Luke 22: after the breaking of bread, it is a Passover meal.
• Luke 24: they sat down to eat a meal which began with the breaking of bread
• Act 2: breaking bread involved eating food (trophes).
• Acts 20: breaking bread involved eating (literally, tasting) food.
• Acts 27: breaking bread involved eathing foor (trophes).

It seems to me, at least, that we should presume that Luke uses his language consistently, that is, with the same meaning, unless he gives us some clear reason to think otherwise. Having set up the meaning of “breaking bread” in his Gospel, he assumes it in the Acts of the Apostles.  The presumption is that he uses the language with the same meaning throughout.  Only the specific and narrow context of the Acts passages could contravene the narrative’s presumption.  Consequently, we must look closely at each text in coming posts. In future posts I will take up the specific texts and their contexts.  More to come….

Children at the Table

Given a couple of recent comments on my previous post by Terrell Lee and Johnny Melton, I have interrupted my series on “Breaking Bread” to offer the below piece. This brief–very brief–statement is something I wrote for a children’s minister who requested a theological rationale for children participating in communion. The following is not a full argument or statement of the case, but is suggestive of the themes that shape the inclusion of children at the table. In Come to the Table I suggested but did not emphasize this point. I did not want that point to distract from the main thrust of the book, that is, to revision the Lord’s Supper as table rather than altar.

I recognize that this is a controversial question and my position is a minority one in the history of Christianity except that the Orthodox Church has always included children and some Reformed streams have practiced it as well. I never make this a focus of my teaching on the Lord’s Supper and I do not push the question in any way. But, when asked, I respond with my opinion as I think appropriate.  It is not a “pressing topic” for me, but I do believe parents should not be hindered or rebuked when they invite their children to eat and drink with them at the table.

Here is the piece I have shared with children’s ministers when requested.

 

Children at the Table

The Lord’s Supper is a table event; a meal which the community of faith shares. The community invites all to share the meal with them as a witness to the truth and meaning of the gospel. All are invited; none but the rebellious are barred.

The Supper was originally experienced in the context of a meal—it was a Supper. Neither guests nor children would have been excluded from that meal. It was for everyone as witness to the grace of God, which is for everyone.

Children, in particular, are invited to the table because they belong to the kingdom. They are kingdom people. They are on the journey of faith, and the Supper will shape the growth and development of that faith. The Supper testifies to the faithfulness and love of God, and when children eat, they experience that faithfulness and love at the table.

The table, then, is a learning event for children. They hear the story of the gospel and participate in the elements, which bear witness to the gospel. They experience the gospel through eating and drinking. This prepares their heart for discipleship, encourages the development of their faith, and assures them of God’s love on their journey.

Baptism is where our children commit themselves to the way of the cross as disciples of Jesus. Baptism is an individual act of faith-commitment that the community witnesses and celebrates. The table is where children learn about Jesus and experience his love. The table is family time; it is a communal event. As part of the family—as persons on the journey of faith—they should sit at the table with the rest of the community.

It is generally unwise to send children to bed without their supper, and it is potentially a hindrance to their faith to exclude them from the table in the family of God.

Breaking Bread in Luke Acts III: Acts 2:41-47

Acts 2:41-47 has long been a focus of discussion in the history of the church, especially in the Anabaptist as well Bristish dissenter traditions. It is particularly important among “restorationist” streams for obvious reasons.

My interest in this post is focused on the meaning of “breaking of bread” in this narrative description of the early Christian community in Jerusalem. I will first offer some summary arguments for my own understanding of the text and then respond to common objections to that understanding.

Essentially, I believe that Luke has no formal or theological distinction between meal and what Paul calls the Lord’s Supper or Lord’s Table. For Luke (and Paul too, I think) the meal is the Lord’s Supper and the Lord’s Supper is the meal. “Breaking Bread” is his name for this, and this is what he is assuming by the language in Acts 2:42 and Acts 2:46 which are referencing the same reality–a communal meal with the risen Christ.

Text (ASV Adjusted to Emphasize the Imperfect Tense with Italics)

“They then that received his word were baptized: and there were added unto them in that day about three thousand souls. And they [were continuing] stedfastly in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and the prayers. And fear [was coming] upon every soul: and many wonders and signs were done through the apostles. And all that believed were together, and [were having] all things common; and they [were selling] their possessions and goods, and [were parting] them to all, according as any man [was having] need. And day by day, continuing stedfastly with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread at home, they [were taking] their food with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having favor with all the people. And the Lord [was adding] to them day by day those that were saved.”

The Meaning of Breaking Bread in Acts 2

Argument 1: Luke says they continued in the breaking of bread (2:42), and then he says they broke bread (2:46). The unity of the text (Acts 2:42-47) is sustained by the repeated use of the imperfect tense (10x). The disciples were constantly devoted to the acts in Acts 2:42. Verbs in the imperfect tense are then repeated throughout 2:42-47 as a way of rooting those actions in the statement of Acts 2:42. Acts 2:42 says they were devoted to “X” and Acts 2:43-47 says they did “X.”  They were devoted to breaking bread (Acts 2:42) and they did it (Acts 2:46). The unity of the text is stressed by the use of the imperfect verbs to describe the nascent Christian community in Jerusalem.

Argument 2: The language of “breaking bread” is dependent upon the Gospel of Luke. At the very least, it is the language that takes us back to Luke 22 and Luke 24. Readers of Acts would have recognized the intratextual and narratival meaning “breaking bread” as eating in the presence of the living Christ who is the host. “Breaking bread” in Acts is, at least, a continuation of the post-resurrection meals with Jesus in Luke 24 and the meal promised by Jesus in Luke 22.

Argument 3: The narrative reading of Acts 2 itself counts against distinguishing them. It is rather strange to use the same words to describe two different actions within the space of five verses in a single paragraph (especially when these verses are themselves summary descriptions) when we are talking about the same people, in the same tradition (Christian), in the same city, during the same time, continuing the same actions to which the community was devoted. The prima facie meaning is the identification of the two references to breaking bread in Acts 2:42 and 2:46. There would need to be a significant and obvious distinction within the paragraph itself to overturn the compelling unity of the paragraph which identifies them.

Argument 4: The repetition of breaking bread in Acts 2:46 from Acts 2:42 parallels the repetition of all aspects of Acts 2:42 in the space of these five verses. The “fellowship” (koinonia) of Acts 2:42 is the same as holding all things in “common” (koina) in 2:44. The teaching of the apostles of Acts 2:42 is what the disciples gathered in the temple heard (cf. Acts 5:42) and their leadership is confirmed or illustrated by their miracles (Acts 2:43). Prayers, of course, were also offered in the temple (Acts 3:1ff) and probably part of “praising God” in 2:47. Breaking bread in Acts 2:46, then, is naturally connected with Acts 2:42 as are other parts of Acts 2:42 in Acts 2:43-47.

Objections to the Above

Objection One: Since breaking bread in Acts 2:46 includes the consumption of food (trophes), it most likely refers to a common meal rather than the Lord’s Supper.

This assumes that “eating food” cannot refer to the Lord’s Supper, that is, it assumes the Lord’s Supper is not a meal. I think this argument imports a presupposition rather than letting the text speak for itself. It seems to me that the opposite is true, that is, the Lord’s Supper is a “supper” (a meal) and thus entails the consumption of food (trophes). The phrase “breaking bread” refers to the first act of a meal–the act that inaugurates the meal. Thus, even without the term food (trophes) “breaking bread” is the act that introduces the eating of food.

Objection 2: “Breaking bread” in Acts 2:42 uses the article with bread; it is the breaking of “the bread.” This may indicate that it is special bread or bread for a special purpose such as in the Lord’s Supper. Since the article is missing in Acts 2:46, Luke seems to introduce a distinction between the two. Without the article, “bread” refers to a common meal and not the Lord’s Supper.

Actually, this more a matter of Luke’s style and grammar than theological distinction. Acts 20:7 is breaking bread without the article, but in Acts 20:11 “breaking bread” has the article. I submit that they both refer to the same thing and not two different things. They came together to break bread and they did. Interestingly some believe that 20:11 (with the article) refers to a common meal while Acts 20:7 refers to the Lord’s Supper (without the article) while at the same time suggesting that Acts 2:46 (without the article) is a common meal while Acts 2:42 (with the article) is the Lord’s Supper. In other words, “the bread” in Acts 20 is a common meal but “the bread” in Acts 2 is the Lord’s Supper but “bread” (without the article) in Acts 2 is a common meal while “bread” (without the article) in Acts 20 is the Lord’s Supper. There is no consistent way to read whether “breaking bread” is a common meal or the Lord’s Supper based on the use of the article with bread. Further, both uses of “breading bread” in Luke 24:30, 35 refer to the breaking of “the bread.” Clearly this was not “special bread” but the beginning of a meal–but a meal with Jesus and thus “breaking bread” for Luke. The article does not make a theological or conceptual distinction but rather serves a grammatical or stylistic function.

Objection 3: Whereas Acts 2:42 appears to be a list of activities in a religious service or a liturgical description, Acts 2:46 describes what takes place in a home that does not appear to be liturgical in character.

Though Acts 2:42 has often be interpreted liturgically–and it may indeed be applied that way, it does not function liturgically in the context. Rather, Acts 2:42 is a summary that is fleshed out in Acts 2:43-47. For example, we learn that fellowship (koinonia) in Acts 2:42 includes shared resources as the community had everything in common (koina). Their sharing of resources was not only in a liturgy but part of their lifestyle. Further, Acts 2:46 describes a community that assembles in the temple and gathers in homes “praising God.” Home was the place of liturgical action as well as the temple for early Christians.

Objection 4:  “Daily” modifes only the temple assemblies and not the home gatherings in Acts 2:46.

This is quite dubious grammatically. “Daily” (kath’ hermeran) stands at the head of the sentence in Acts 2:46 so that it is in the most natural place to modify both participles (“continuing in the temple” and “breaking bread”). If “daily” was understood as only modifying “continuing,” then the more natural construction would be (I will use English wording but in Greek word order): “continuing te (a particle which has a joining function) daily together in the temple, breaking te at home bread.” If “daily” refered only to the temple, it would come after the te and not at the head of the whole sentence. The NRSV makes this clear: “day by day continuing to meet in the temple courts, breaking bread from house to house.”

Further, the te…te structure has the significance of “both…and.” The point is that “daily, both continuing together in the temple and breaking bread at home, they were eating food with joy and unity.”  They celebrated the new age by daily gathering in the temple and homes.  They heard the apostles teach and prayed the prayers in the temple, but they broke bread in their homes. In this way they devoted themselves to the apostle’s teaching and the fellowship, the breaking of the bread and the prayers. For early Jerusalem church pictured here this was a daily teaching (temple) and fellowship (home), and the latter included the breaking of bread.

Objection 5: If Acts 2:46 refers to a daily breaking of bread and the breaking of bread is the Lord’s Supper, then this contradicts Luke’s broader context where disciples met for the purpose of breaking bread on the first day of the week in Acts 20:7. It appears that they were not breaking bread daily in Troas because Paul waited there seven days to break bread with the disciples. If another day was acceptable other than the first day of the week, then Paul could have called a special Thursday (or any other day) meeting for the purpose of breaking bread.

The assumption is that Paul stayed in Troas in order to wait to eat with the disciples. He may have stayed seven days because the boat did not leave till then. But this is speculative. I don’t have a problem with saying that the Troas disciples met only on the first day of the week to break bread but we must recognize that the “only” is an inference and not explicitly stated in the text. Daily breaking of bread was not a requirement but one way of eating as often as one desired. Weekly breaking bread was also quite acceptable  (perhaps even the normal practice across the churches) and Paul accomodated to the practice of the church at Troas. Indeed, we don’t know whether there were other meetings. Luke is concerned about this particular meeting because it includes a resurrection story. It is a concrete experience of the meaning of the supper itself–to eat with the resurrected one.

Objection 6: Acts 2:46 does not mention wine. We may presume that daily meals in Jersualem did not use wine which was only used on festive occasions due to its expense. Consequently, it is unreasonable to assume that that the daily breaking of bread in Acts 2:46 refers to the Lord’s Supper where bread and wine are both present because the expense would have been excessive.

I would suggest an alternative reading. Many of these new believers in Acts 2 were pilgrims who had come to celebrate Pentecost. This celebration included eating fellowship offerings together throughout the week which would have included wine since it was a festive gathering (Leviticus 23:15-21). The experience of “daily” meals–festive meals of thanksgiving through the breaking of bread–was part of the festive atmosphere. The pilgrims understood that Pentecost was the experience of the gracious outpouring of God’s Spirit, the renewal of Israel, and they celebrated by eating “daily” in their homes in small groups. I would suggest that this was not a perpetual ordinance in the Jerusalem church. Rather, it lasted perhaps as long as the Pentecost festival lasted or as long as the pilgrims were in town. Whatever the case may be, the “daily” eating together fits the festive context of Pentecost. How long it lasted is, of course, unknown, but it such daily festive meals make sense in the context of Pentecost.

Objection 7: Neither Acts 2:42 or 2:46 are references to the Lord’s Supper because it only refers to the breaking of bread. There is no mention of wine which is necessary for the Lord’s Supper.

I have occasionally read this objection in scholarly literature but I always thought it was rather strange. If “breaking bread” refers to the initiating act of a meal, then it is a metaphor for the whole meal. Luke does not have to tell us everything they ate or drank in order to use this phrase for a meal. The phrase itself means “the meal.” The specific absence of wine is not significant, especially in the light of the phrase’s narrative function. A meal includes its drink whether specified or not.

Conclusion

This is a rather brief account of some specific hermeneutical and exegetical details.  But I hope it is sufficient to exegetically ground my conclusion that the breaking of bread in Acts 2:42 and Acts 2:46 is both a meal and the Lord’s Supper. The two are one in the same for Luke.  Breaking bread is a meal in honor of and eating with the risen Christ.

Breaking Bread in Luke-Acts V: Acts 27

Acts 27:35 is the last use of “breaking bread” in Acts.There is a broad consensus in the history of interpretation that this text cannot refer to the Eucharist or Lord’s Supper. The reasons have generally been two-fold.  (1) The meal involves the consumption of “food” (trophes) and therefore it cannot be the Lord’s Supper because the Lord’s Supper is not a meal.  (2) Paul invites unbelievers to participate in this meal and therefore it cannot be the Lord’s Supper because it is exclusively for baptized believers.

Both of those reasons are imported into the Luke-Acts narrative. They are presuppositions that limit the meaning of Luke’s text.  (1) is problematic because Luke has already used the language of eating a meal and food with prior references to “breaking bread” (cf. Acts 2:46 and 20:11). Extending the breaking bread language back into the narrative of Luke’s Gospel, it is clearly a meal every time it is used there. In fact, we might argue that the fact that Acts 27 is a meal context is not only consistent with Luke’s usage but exactly his point–it is a redemptive meal, and part of why we should identify it with Lord’s Supper in Luke-Acts.

(2) is a more substantial reason but it is still imported into the context. In fact, the first breaking of bread in Luke’s narrative (Luke 9:16) is the feeding of thousands–a number that probably included disciples, skeptics and seekers. At bottom, however, it seems to me that the text–read on Luke’s on narrative terms–should reshape that presupposition if indeed the language supports a Eucharistic reading. So, in the final analysis it is about what the text says within the context of Luke’s narrative.

Text:  Acts 27:21-26, 30-36 (ESV)

Since they had been without food for a long time, Paul stood up among them and said, “Men, you should have listened to me and not have set sail from Crete and incurred this injury and loss. Yet now I urge you to take heart, for there will be no loss of life among you, but only of the ship. For this very night there stood before me an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I worship, and he said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul; you must stand before Caesar. And behold, God has granted you all those who sail with you.’ So take heart, men, for I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told. But we must run aground on some island”….And as the sailors were seeking to escape from the ship, and had lowered the ship’s boat into the sea under pretense of laying out anchors from the bow, Paul said to the centurion and the soldiers, “Unless these men stay in the ship, you cannot be saved.” Then the soldiers cut away the ropes of the ship’s boat and let it go. As day was about to dawn, Paul urged them all to take some food, saying, “Today is the fourteenth day that you have continued in suspense and without food, having taken nothing. Therefore I urge you to take some food. For it will give you strength, for not a hair is to perish from the head of any of you.” And when he had said these things, he took bread, and giving thanks to God in the presence of all he broke it and began to eat. Then they all were encouraged and ate some food themselves. 

This “breaking bread” story is the most difficult of Luke’s narrative for construing  as a religious or Christological meal. One cannot be absolutely certain about its meaning, but it is likely, given the language used, that the first Christian readers would have used the Lord’s Supper as a frame of reference for understanding this meal on the ship and that the narrative use of “breaking bread” has led us to this point. Paul used the meal as a means of encouragement and assurance. Eating represented hope: all would be saved, so all ate. If this is a eucharsitic breaking of bread, it teaches the church that the Supper is about hope and inclusivism, that is, that all are invited to share in the salvation of God, even pagan Roman soldiers. All are invited to the table to hear and taste the mercy of God.

That is my basic understading of the text. Below are the arguments that, to me, suggest this meaning. In Come to the Table, I did not deal with this text except through an extended footnote because I thought it would be distracting and I thought I could make my case in the book however one interpreted this text. Acts 2 and Acts 20 within their own contexts mean what they mean irrespective of how we understand Acts 27. Now, however, I offer here a fuller account of why I think this text contributes to our understanding of “breaking bread” in Luke-Acts.

Redemptive Significance of the Meal. The language surrounding the text is filled with soteriological imagery: not a soul will be lost, v.22; “do not be afraid,” v.24; God’s graciousness, v.24; faith in God, v.25; salvation, v.31; brought safely through, v.44/28:1; everyone was encouraged, v.36. Nothing is ordinary about this meal, especially in the light of Luke’s portrayal of Paul on this journey. It is a meal promising salvation; a meal of hope and encouragement. The meal is a concrete witness to the coming salvation of God. I think that sounds familiar in terms of the Lord’s Supper.

Gospel and Acts Travelogue. The parallel structures of Luke and Acts: turning the face toward a destination, trials, imprisonment, climatic events, etc. give this meal a parallel with the Last Supper in Luke 22  Luke intentionally parallels the events of Jesus’ life at the end of Luke and with the events of Paul’s life at the end of Acts (Cf. M. D. Goulder, Type and History in Acts [London: S.P.C.K., 1964] and C. Talbert, Literary Patterns, Theological Themes and the Genre of Luke-Acts [Missoula: Scholars Press, 1974]). Just as Jesus journeyed to Jerusalem (Luke 9-19), so Paul is travelling to Rome (Acts 19). Just as Jesus was arrested in Jerusalem (Luke 22), so was Paul (Acts 21). Just as Jesus had two trials (Luke 22-23), so did Paul (Acts 24-25). Just as Jesus ate a meal with his companions before facing the darkness of Friday (Luke 22), so Paul ate a meal with his companions before facing the darkness of the shipwreck (Acts 27).  This meal on the ship is Paul’s “Last Supper” within the narrative. Describing that meal, Luke uses what the early church recognized as a eucharistic formula. Early Christians would not have missed the association since they heard that language in their communities; it was the language of Jesus’ “Last Supper.”

Jew-Gentile Table Fellowship. The story also fits Luke’s emphasis on Jew-Gentile table fellowship as the symbol of the new Christian community (cf. Philip Francis Esler, Community and Gospel in Luke-Acts: The Social and Political Motivations of Lucan Theology [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987], 102ff). The “table” here in Acts 27 is a continuation and, in some ways, a climatic representation of the goal of the kingdom of God to invite all to sit at the table–Jew or Gentile, slave or soldier, prisoner or free. It is a continuation of the function of the table in the ministry of Jesus.  In particular, it is the inclusion of the Gentiles at the table (reminding us of the Cornelius narratives in Acts 10-11).

Eucharistic Language. The text has the most eucharistic language in Acts; it is the text that most linguistically parallels Luke 22:19 and Luke 24:30. Only here does “give thanks,” ”take” and “break bread” occur in Acts in a way that parallels Luke 22:19 and Luke 24:30. The text has three of the four features of the fourfold formula of take, break bread, give thanks and give (distribution is implied; the Western text of Acts adds “giving also to us”). Why does Luke recall this specific language from earlier in his narrative if not to connect the reader with those events? Luke uses the very language that would give Eucharistic significance to the meal.  He could have avoided that if he desired. Instead, he is quite intentional about connecting us back to his Gospel.

Summary. The narrative flow, the redemptive setting, the use of climatic themes, and the eucharistic language convince me that this is, in fact, an occasion when Paul invited unbelieving Gentiles to experience the grace of God through a meal in light of God’s redemptive act for them on the next day. It was a witness to God’s salvation–not only in the shipwreck, but in Christ. It was a promissory meal; a proleptic experience of the coming day of salvation. The meal was an invitation to trust in God’s saving work. That is, in fact, part of the dynamic and meaning of the Lord’s Supper itself.

I think C. K. Barrett nails the point quite well when we writes (“Paul Shipwrecked,” in Scripture: Meaning and Method, ed. Barry P. Thompson [North Yorkshire: Hull University Press, 1987], 60): “It seems unthinkable that Luke should have forgotten that he had written at significant points in his gospel the words that he uses here, and very improbable that the words were not used, and were not known by him to be used, by the church of which he was a member at its regular meeting for Supper.”

Perhaps, at the very least, as Bonz suggests, the language could be seen as “another example of Luke’s propensity to suggest a theme without insisting upon it” (Marianne Palmer Bonz,The Past as Legacy: Luke-Acts and Ancient Epic [Fortress, 2000] 179, n.28).

Resource Note:  Others who have argued this position include Clayton Raymond Bowen, ” The Emmaus Disciples and the Purposes of Luke,” Biblical World 35 (April 1910) 234-245;  J. Dupont, “The Meal at Emmaus,” in The Eucharist in the New Testament, ed. J. Delorme, P. Benoit, and M. E. Boismard and trans. by E. M. Stewart (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1965), 105-21; Geoffrey Wainwright, Eucharist and Eschatology (London: Epworth Press, 1971), 130-31; Susan Marie Praeder, “Sea Voyages in Ancient Literature and the Theology of Luke-Acts,” CBQ 46 (1984) 683-706; R. D. Richardson, “The Place of Luke in the Eucharistic Tradition,” Studia Evangelica, TU 73 (Berlin: Akadamie-Verlag, 1959), 671-72; P. H. Menoud, “Les Actes des Apôtres et l’Eucharistie,” Revue d’Histoire et de Philosophie Religieuses 33 (1953), 21-36; Bo Reicke, “Die Mahlzeit mit Paulus auf den Wellen des Mittelmeers, Acta 27:33-38,” Theologische Zeitschrift 4 (1948), 401-10; and P. W. Walaskay, ‘And So We Came to Rome’: The Political Perspective of St. Luke (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983). The eary third century author Tertullian apparently interpreted it in this manner when he used the Latin technical phrase eucharistiam fecit (“celebrate the eucharist”) in On Prayer, 24. One could also suggest that the Western text’s addition “giving also to us” is an interpolation intended to clarify that only Christians (“us”) ate this meal in the light of Paul’s eucharistic prayer. Thus, an early understanding of this text in the second and third centuries was Eucharistic. Other supporters include the commentaries by Barrett, Belser, Blass, Chance, Olshausen, Ehrhardt, Ewald and Schneider among others.

Breaking Bread in Luke-Acts IV: Acts 20:7-12

On the first day of the week, when we met to break bread, Paul was holding a discussion with them; since he intended to leave the next day, he continued speaking until midnight. There were many lamps in the room upstairs where we were meeting. A young man named Eutychus, who was sitting in the window, began to sink off into a deep sleep while Paul talked still longer. Overcome by sleep, he feel to the ground three floors below and was picked up dead. But Paul went down, and bending over him took him in his arms, and said, “Do not be alarmed, for his life is in him.” Then Paul went upstairs, and after he had broken [the] bread and eaten, he continued to converse with them until dawn; then he left. Meanwhile they had taken the boy away alive and were not a little comforted.

The intentional character of “breaking bread” is obvious. The church gathered in order to break bread. This was its explicit purpose for assembling. Paul’s sermon was an addendum or special circumstance. But Luke does not tell this story simply to note another Pauline sermon or to describe a Christian assembly. Rather, Luke tells this story because it combines several elements which illuminate the connection between breaking bread, the first day of the week and resurrection. Luke tells this story because on this particular first day of the week when the disciples were gathered to break bread the church experienced firsthand a resurrection from the dead.

The combination of these factors connects this story with Luke 24 which should inform our reading of Acts 20. The parallels between Acts 20 and Luke 24 (reflected in the below chart) indicate that Luke wants us to read Acts 20 in the light of Luke 24, and consequently in the light of Luke 22–the Last Supper. Both Acts 20 and Luke 24 record the combination of three significant and complementary ideas: breaking bread, first day of the week and resurrection.

Topic	Luke 24	Acts 20
Gathering of Disciples	24:33	20:7
Breaking of Bread	24:30,35	20:7,11
Eating Together	24:42-43	20:11
First Day of the Week	24:1,13	20:7
Teaching the Word (logos)	24:44	20:7
Conversation (omileo)	24:14-15	20:11
A Rising from the Dead	24:5,46	20:10,12
Fear	24:37-38	20:11
The Living One (zota)	24:5	20:12

The Greek text of Acts 20:7, despite some translations which read “Saturday evening,” clearly identifies the day of meeting as the “first day of the week.” While sabbath after sabbath Paul had been in the synagogues speaking to Jews (cf. Acts 13:14, 44; 17:2; 18:4), when he encounters a Christian group, they are meeting on the first day of the week. It is uncertain whether this assumes a Jewish reckoning of time (sunset to sunset, so that Acts 20 = Saturday evening) or a Roman reckoning (sunrise to sunrise, so that Acts 20 = Sunday evening). Given the Gentile character of Troas, it was probably a Sunday evening. Either way, they met on the first day of the week rather than on the sabbath and this is in stark contrast with synagogue meetings in Acts.

The “first day of the week” connects this text theologically with Luke 24. This is no mere temporal indicator or incidental reference. Rather, seen in the light of Luke 24, it is a theological marker. There is theological significance to the “first day of the week” as the day of resurrection and the birthday of the church (Pentecost; cf. Leviticus 23:15-21, 33-36). It is the first day of the new creation. The first day of the week is rooted in the saving act of God in the gospel. The day has redemptive-historical significance as its explicit notation in each of the Gospel stories stresses (Matthew 28:1; Mark 16:1-2; Luke 24:1; John 20:1). Jesus as the “first fruit” (1 Corinthians 15:20-23) was raised seven weeks before Pentecost just as the first fruits of the harvest were offered to God before the rest of the harvest was gathered and celebrated at Pentecost (Lev. 23:9-14). The Spirit was poured out and the new community inaugurated on the first day of the week in celebration of the “first fruit” seven weeks prior.

On the first day of the week, Jesus first appeared to his disciples, broke bread with them and ate in their presence while showing himself to be alive (Luke 24:13,30,33,46), and one week later did the same thing (John 20:19,26). The first day of the week, then, as resurrection day and as the day that Jesus ate with his disciples became designated as the day when disciples would gather weekly to break bread together. While the Jerusalem church did this daily (at least for a while, perhaps only during the Pentecost festival), Troas appears to have embraced a weekly practice. Luke’s language reflects a common way of expressing the Sunday gathering since the language of “gathering,” “breaking bread,” and “first day of the week” are commonly linked in early literature (cf. 1 Corinthians 11:20; 16:1; Didache 14:1; Ignatius, Ephesians 20:2).

The weekly observance became standard in the late first and mid-second centuries as indicated by the Didache (14:1) and Justin Martyr (First Apology, 46-47). However, Ignatius (died ca. 115) exhorted the Ephesians to celebrate the Eucharist “more frequently” (Ephesians 13:1), which presumably means more than just Sunday. While there is no evidence of a daily Eucharist in the second century, there is evidence that it was not restricted to Sunday alone. For example, Easter was celebrated in the Asia Minor throughout the second century on Nissan 14 even if it fell on a day other than Sunday (the Quatrodeciman controversy). Towards the end of the second century it is apparent that the Eucharist was celebrated on the anniversaries of martyrs and at other times as well (Tertullian, On the Crown 3:3-4). By the third century there is a daily celebration in Carthage, North Africa (cf. Cyprian, The Lord’s Prayer 18).

The “first day of the week” in Acts 20 is no incidental reference. On the contrary, it reflects the intentional linkage of Acts 20 with Luke 24 in the light of the resurrection story that Acts 20 describes. Both Luke 24 and Acts 20 describe a situation of death which gives birth to life. Jesus emerges from the tomb “alive” and Eutyches goes home “alive,” though they were both dead. The resurrection of Eutyches is a concrete experience of victory for the church at Troas. When they gathered to break bread with the risen Eutyches, they ate with a visible example of the kind of hope they celebrated in the light of the resurrection of Jesus. That Supper was a celebration of hope and life as we imagine the Troas assembly sitting across the table from Eutyches as they broke bread together. The congregation was greatly “comforted,” which is what the contemporary church should experience as it breaks bread together in the presence of the living Christ.

Unfortunately, some read this text as if there were two different breakings of the bread. But the text does not say that they broke the bread in Acts 20:7, but only that they came together to break bread. They did not break the bread until after Paul’s homily and Eutyches’ resurrection. When they return to the third floor, then they broke bread and ate. While the text uses the singular “he broke bread and ate,” the singular is a synecdoche where a part stands for the whole. Does Luke really want us to think that Paul broke bread by himself, that he ate alone?  I think not. Rather, Paul is the focus of the text–preaching, healing, etc., and consequently he is the lead character in the breaking of bread.  But he does not break bread alone or eat alone in the midst of a meeting of the disciples, does he?

Further, Luke says Paul “broke bread and ate.” While some note that the verb geuomai (“ate”) literally means “taste” and therefore could refer to only bread and wine as in a contemporary Lord’s Supper, Luke uses the verb in the sense of “eat.” This is clear by his usage elsewhere. He only uses the verb concerning food in Luke 14:24 (eating a supper), Acts 10:11 (Peter is hungry and wants to eat), Acts 23:14 (zealots vow not to eat till they kill Paul) and here. The verb, then, is only used in Acts for meals and it has the metaphorical meaning of enjoying food. To “taste” is to experience the goodness of food and enjoy it.  Just as people “taste death” (experience death; Luke 9:27), so Paul (and by synecdoche the whole gathering) experienced–tasted–the food.

It is because of Luke’s usage of “taste” here and throughout his narrative that some want to see two different breakings of bread in this text:  20:7 is the Lord’s Supper and 20:11 is a “common meal.” This is strained and unnecessary. It is strained because it forces Luke to use the same words to describe two different things in the same paragraph without any indication in the language to highlight the difference.  It is unnecessary because it is based on a presupposition–imported into the context–that the Lord’s Supper cannot be a meal (even though it is called the Lord’s Supper).

Further, the argument that the same proponents would use to distinguish the “breaking of bread” in Acts 2 gets turned on its head here. Whereas it is the breaking of the bread in Acts 2:42 and thus the Lord’s  Supper (according to the argument), Acts 2:46 is simply the breaking of bread (without the article) and is thus a common meal.  But in Acts 20:7 Luke says they came together to break bread (without the article) but in Acts 20:11 is the breaking of the bread. Why does the bread in Acts 2:42 necessitate the Lord’s Supper in distinction from Acts 2:46 but it does not in Acts 20:11 in distinction from Acts 20:7?  Actually, it is more simple to see breaking bread as the same in all instances and this entails eating food together in a meal.

The unity of breaking bread and eating is the same as Acts 2:46, and describes the meal which characterized the Lord’s Supper. Breaking bread is a meal where the disciples eat together in the presence of the living Christ and, in this case, in the presence of the resurrected Eutyches.

The coordination of the first day of the week, breaking bread and resurrection gives theological substance to the weekly celebration of the Lord’s Supper as a meal as it bears witness to the living presence of Christ within the community. Given that early Christians met every first day of the week (1 Corinthians 16:1), and that they gathered to eat the Lord’s Supper (1 Corinthians 11:20; Acts 20:7), there are good historical reasons for believing that Christians met every first day of the week in order to eat the Lord’s Supper. More importantly, there are good theological reasons for believing this given the intersection of the first day of the week, resurrection and breaking bread. The first day of the week is the day of remembrance, the day of our deliverance, because it is the day on which God raised Jesus from the dead and created his new community, the church. The same reason the church gathers every first day of the week is the same reason it should eat the Lord’s Supper every first day of the week. Whatever reason one might offer for not eating every Sunday, the same reason could be given for not meeting. Whatever reason one might offer for meeting every Sunday, the same reason could be given for eating. It is a day of worship and a day of celebration because of what God has done in the gospel, and the gospel is proclaimed in the Lord’s Supper. If the Lord’s Supper is a celebration of the resurrection, why omit the very ordinance God has given us to celebrate it when we gather on the first day of the week to celebrate the resurrection? If gathering every first day of the week to celebrate our redemption through the gospel is appropriate, why is not the use of God’s gift of the Lord’s Supper equally appropriate? The church as a whole should return to the early Christian practice of breaking bread every Sunday.

Missional Table

One formerly unchurched person recently told me about his first experience with the Lord’s supper. He had grown up in the inner city where a gang was his family. Befriended by “good Samaritans” in a time of need, he attended “church” for the first time and sat on the second row with his new friend.

As you might imagine, he was perplexed by the “Lord’s supper.” He supposed that it was a snack of some kind. So he grabbed a whole piece of bread and casually ate it as he passed the plate. When the juice came, he drank several cups while holding the tray (much to the shock and consternation of the server) all the while thinking how minimal the refreshment was. When the contribution basket came to him, he refused to pay for such megar food and drink.

Humorous, yes—but sad as well. As an one unquainted with “church,” the supper—both in terms of its form and meaning—was totally alien to him. While we might be amazed at his total unfamiliarity with Christian rituals, the fault may lie more with the Christian tradition than him. Christianity has so ritualized the Lord’s Table that it has no functional or meaningful connection with tables in life. While we may still call it a “table,” its “tableness” has been lost. The Lord’s Supper has become the Lord’s snack. It is little wonder that the unchurch can see no significance in the practice other than some meaningless and isolated ritual.

The response of the “Church Growth” movement, epitomzed by Willow Creek’s removal of the supper from Sunday services in the 1990s, was to reduce the role of the Supper in worshipping assemblies. The unchurched simply cannot connect with the Lord’s Supper—and not only the unchurched, but many churched as well. The problem is not the supper or the unchurched, the problem is the supper’s present form and discontinuity with the table of Jesus in Scripture.

The Table in the Ministry of Jesus

The table ministry of Jesus is often ignored in framing our understanding of the Lord’s Supper. For some it seems too removed from the Last Supper and for others the Lord’s Supper is a highly formalized ritual unlike the tables of Jesus’ ministry. However, in the Gospel of Luke the Last Supper is linked with the other tables in the narrative by language and content. The Last Supper is one meal among many (Luke 22), but it is also the paradigmatic meal for understanding the rest of the meals. It is a climactic meal in a series of meals during the ministry of Jesus which is continued in post-resurrection meals with the disciples. Instead of the Last Supper standing aloof from these other meals, it gives fuller meaning to them. The Last Supper interprets and gives substance to the other meals as they are understood in the theological light of that Last Supper.

Luke is a narrator. He tells stories rather than writing didactic prose. Through the stories he inculcates the values which he wants his community to embrace. Each meal story reveals something about Jesus and his mission. In Luke 5:27-32 Jesus sits at table with sinners as a physican among the sick. In Luke 7:36-50 Jesus receives a sinful woman at the table of a Pharisee and declares her sins forgiven. In Luke 9:10-17 Jesus shows hospitality to 5000 people as he first calls his disciples to mission (“give them something to eat”) and then models before them his messianic mission. The disciples are called to service. The table has a missional dimension; it reflects the mission of God to commune with his people at table. In Luke 10:38-42 Jesus accepts women as his disciples. In Luke 11:37-54 Jesus condemns the Pharisees because they sit at table only in form, not in spirit. In Luke 14:1-24 Jesus notes that their table does not look like the kingdom of God, but it looks like themselves. In Luke 19:1-10 Jesus invites himself to table with the tax collector Zacchaeus and declares that salvation had come to his house. Luke 24 welcomes a stranger to the table in Emmaus (Luke 24:30-35) and commissions the disciples to bear witness to gospel among all nations (Luke 24:45-49). Just as the disciples offered hospitality to a stranger on the way, so the table is a place where the church welcomes strangers (aliens or “others”). The table has a missionary quality, especially in light of the fact that the disciples receive their call to missions at a table.

The table is a place where Jesus receives sinners and confronts the righteous. The table is the place where Jesus extends grace to seekers, but condemns the self-righteous. Jesus is willing to eat with “others” in order to invite them into the kingdom, but he points out the discontinuity between our tables of social, ethnic, gender, economic, religious status and the table in the kingdom of God. The last (sinners, poor, and humbled–the “others”) will be first in the kingdom of God, but the first (self-righetous, rich and proud–the “churched”) will be last and excluded from the kingdom of God (Luke 13:26-30).

The meal stories have theological meaning for Luke’s community, and they are stories that shaped meals in the early church. The table during Jesus’ ministry should shape the table in the church because the table of Jesus is the table of the kingdom. The table of Jesus’ ministry continues in the church when his disciples gather at table. Jesus’ table etiquette is kingdom etiquette, and Lord’s supper is the Lord’s kingdom table.

The table announces the presence of the kingdom. It announces that “today” salvation has come to the world as God communes with his people at table. Jesus came to seek and to save the lost, and also to eat (commune, to be) with them. The Jubilee motif, articulated in Luke 4:16-19, not only invests the table with great joy, but it also calls the disciples of Jesus to embrace all those who are invited to his table. The table is inclusive and intentionally includes the poor, blind and oppressed; it intentionally reaches out to the “others”. The table reaches across all socio-economic, racial and gender barriers as it unites lost humanity at one table. Jesus modeled the invitation of all to the table as he welcomed Pharisee and tax collector, rich and poor, male and female. This inclusiveness testifies to the socio-ethical character of the table as a uniting moment in the kingdom of God.

The Table in the Church

The table in the contemporary church looks more like the “in-crowd” than it does the redeemed community of Revelation 7 or the ministry of Jesus. It is a gathering of the righteous, rather than a missional invitation to “others”. It is where the community gathers to take pride in its place at the kingdom table rather than a table which serves the poor, the weak, and the sinful. The table in the church looks more like a ritualized, formal Pharisaic table than it does the table of the messianic banquet. It is little wonder that the table in the church is not only misunderstood, but even despised by the unchurched and outsiders because the church’s table has become an “insider” phenomenon. The church’s table is intimidating, meaningless or irrelevant rather than inviting and comforting to the outsider.

That an unchurched person who visits some assemblies would have no idea of what is going on during the communion—in terms of both form and meaning—is an indictment that our language (“table”) does not fit our practice (when there is no table). That an unchurched person could misinterpret the communion bread and juice for a snack says more about the divorce of the supper from the preached Word and the divorce of the meal from our table language than it does about the naiveté of the unchurched. We call it a table, but it has no visible/communal table function, form or meaning.

The supper is a concrete proclamation of the Word, but it is exactly its concrete character (bread and wine—and as a meal!) which must be explained and applied. The supper needs to be joined with a preached Word from God so that not only the “alien” (the welcomed stranger among us) will appreciate its significance, but that the church will remember the work of God in Jesus Christ for them. The gospel should be proclaimed when the supper is served and the supper must proclaim the gospel as it embodies its meaning.

Jesus invited all to the table and sat with all. If the table embodies the gospel and bears witness to the gospel, then it should reflect the universal intent of the gospel. Just as our preaching invites all to faith, so the table should invite all to eat. The table, just as the ministry of the Word, offers grace and testifies that Jesus died for all. The table is a place where “others” can not only hear but experience the gracious message of the gospel through eating with the community of faith. All are invited to eat with Jesus. The community of faith receives ”strangers” at its table. The table of the Lord should epitomize gospel hospitality.

In the same way, the church as a community invites all who would seek God to the table. It invites the sinner, the unchurched and the weak family member to the table to hear the gospel of grace. It invites all (except the rebellious, cf. 1 Corinthians 5) to learn the gospel through eating and drinking.

When the Lord’s Supper is conceived as a meal at a table, then the exclusion of seekers is incongruous with the genius of the meal. If the Lord’s Supper is a meal, then it would be a counter-testimony to exclude “others.” It would deny food to the hungry, both spiritually and physically.

As the embodiment of the gospel and reflective of the essential nature of the church, the table is missional. It is a shared meal that bears witness to the universal grace of the gospel. Just as the gospel invites all to come to Jesus, so all are invited to the table to hear about Jesus and experience the community of grace.

[Modified version of a piece originally published in New Wineskins (Sep/Oct 2002).]

Breaking Bread in Luke-Acts VI: General Observations

The previous posts in this series (listed in the Serial Index under “Biblical Texts”) have focused on exegetical detail within the framework of Luke’s two volume narrative (Luke and Acts). This final post in the series will serve as a summary of what I consider some of the more significant theological ideas embedded in Luke’s narrative concerning “breaking bread.” I trust that my exegesis (both in Come to the Table and the previous posts) grounds my theological summary. 

The church continues the ministry of Jesus. The early church did what Jesus did; they followed Jesus into the world teaching what he taught and doing what he did (Acts 1:1-3). Part of this ministry was “table fellowship,” and more specifically the “breaking of bread.” Jesus sat at table with saint and sinner, insider and outsider. He broke bread with thousands (Luke 9), with the twelve which included Judas the betrayer (Luke 22) and with a wider range of disciples in post-resurrection meals (Luke 24; Acts 1).  The continue continued this practice–they broke bread as a community and with outsiders. The church continues to break bread on the ground of what Jesus did, not on the ground of what the church did.  We imitate the church as it imitated Jesus. Looking beyond the few “breaking bread” texts in the Gospel of Luke, the church finds its model for table in the table ministry of Jesus itself.

The church eats a meal of redemptive hope.  Every “breaking of bread” in Luke-Acts is a redemptive and eschatological in character. Luke 9 is the eschatological presence of the Messianic Son of Man who feeds his people–the curse of hunger is reversed in that moment and the promise of a future aswell as the fulfillment of the past (the prophet like Moses has arrived!) is embedded in that moment. Luke 22 anticipates the coming kingdom of God and at that table Jesus announces it will come as a fulfillment of the Passover.  Luke 24 declares that the future has arrived in the presence through the resurrection of Jesus. Acts 2 inaugurates a communal reality upon which the risen Christ has poured his Spirit. Acts 20 declares the hope and comfort of the resurrection through the resuscitation of Eutyches who is a symbol of the resurrection hope proclaimed in Jesus who was raised on the first day of the week and broke bread with his disciples. Acts 27 is the assurance of hope through breaking bread and eating; it is the promise of salvation. Eating the meal (breaking bread) is a promissory act–God pledges the future to us. 

The church eats in the presence of Jesus.  While the meal promises the future, it also is an experience of eschatological presence of the living Christ.  When the church breaks break, they sit at the table of the Lord who is both the nourishment and the host of the meal.  He is both lamb and host; indeed, he is servant at the table as well. When Luke uses “breaking bread” in his Gospel, Jesus is always the living host. This is particularly significant in Luke 24. Jesus promised he would break bread with his disciples again in the kingdom of God and in Luke 24 he breaks bread with them. The church eats a post-resurrection meal with Jesus through the breaking of bread. Eating in the presence of the living Christ is not a funerary act or a sad memorial of his death, but a vibrant declaration of the gospel (good news) that Christ died and rose again for the sake of the world. But more than a declaration–it is, indeed, an experience of the living Christ himself. Thus, joy and celebration encircles the table rather than mourning and sadness. Why would anyone eat a post-resurrection meal with Jesus in sadness?

The church invites “others” to share the meal. When the early church follows Jesus into the world, it is for the sake of the world. Their table is not exclusive but inclusive. Their table is inviting and includes “others” at the table. Just as Jesus willingly and intentionally sat at table with “others” (Luke 5), so the church intentionally sets a table that welcomes all. There is no reason to presume that the “breaking of bread” in Acts 2 or Acts 20 only included disciples. As communal meals, just as the communal meals of Israel, the inclusion of “outsiders” (“aliens” in the Hebrew Scriptures) is consistent with the purpose and meaning of the table itself and demonstrated by Jesus himself. He sets the table etiquette of his kingdom table and he practiced it as the presence of the kingdom in the world. The table is not simply communal but also missional (more on that in the next post).

One Year at WordPress: The Most Viewed Posts/Series

My earlier attempts at blogging, before this past twelve months, were rather meager though I did post a considerable amount of material at my first site begun in September 2000.

 I appreciate how the blog has been received by old friends and new ones. Thank you for your patronage. I hope our dialogue can continue and grow over the coming years.

I initially decided to blog as part of my own therapy. Consequently, many of the early posts were about grief, suffering and recovery. I also wanted to post a complete record of my published writings (not yet complete), some lectures and even some academic classes (the Hermeneutics series is essentially that). So my blog is definitely on the “heavy” side of things, and intentionally so.

Consequently, I did not intend my blog to be a place to track my personal or family activities. It was, in essence, an adventure in substantial posts based on my years of teaching and reflection. But, as with anything, it has become a mixture though still heavily weighted to serious historical, theological and exegetical concerns. That, of course, means it has rather lengthy posts which I understand is anathema to authentic blogging.    But, then again, I never intended my blog to be a kind of daily family update, or pearl of wisdom (though would be a more difficult challenge than I am ready for), or even a detailed account of my journey through life. 

Instead, I have generally followed a couple of paths: (1) journeying through my cycles of grief and recovery with some theological content and (2) a resource for historical, biblical and theological studies.  The latter means it functions more as an encyclopedia than a “blog” in the common vernacular.  The former means it is an invitation to journey with me as we all share the experience of pain and hurt in a broken world.

I changed my theme apperance at some point because I wanted a framework which included a “search” feature so that visitors may search my posts for key words, phrases or texts. I hope some have found it useful. I know I have. I sometimes have to research my own posts to remember what I believe.  :-)  Yes, I am over 50.

To mark this first year, I have identified the top seven posts/series over the past year based on visits (comments considered as well). Here they are in case you missed them–ranked from seven to one.

7. Stone-Campbell Hermeneutics Series (#1 was the most popular). This surveyed the more significant influences and developments of heremenutics within Churches of Christ in the 19th and 20th centuries.

6.  A Reflection on Psalm 84 for those Grieving Loss: even the Valley of Weeping has springs of refreshment but this does not dispel the need to weep.

5.   I Will Change Your Name, a homily on Isaiah 62:1-5. Through spiritual recovery God changes names, particularly the names we have given ourselves or others gave us.

4.   K. C. Moser and Churches of Christ.  The theologian of grace for Churches of Christ in the 1930s-1960s, Moser’s impact on Churches of Christ is beyond estimating.

3.   “Meeting God at the Shack” Series (#5 was the most popular). This was my ”pastoral” assessment of The Shack wherein I reflected on my own “shack” and my personal journey of recovery.

2.   “Theological Reflections on the Shack” Series (#4 was the most popular). This was my fundamentally positive “theological” assessment of The Shack.

1.   Divorced People–How Do They Feel?  How do you think they feel?  They hate divorce more than anyone except–perhaps–God.

St. Petersburg Courses

In December 2006 and again in December 2007 I taught at the Institute for Theology and Christian Ministry in St. Petersburg, Russia.  (Yes, it was cold…and dark except for only six or so hours a day.)

In 2006 I taught “Medieval and Reformation Church History” and in 2007 I taught “Systematic Theology.” The “Systematic Theology” course is my response to a list of 38 questions developed by the administration, staff, students and myself. So, it is not very systematic, but it covers the ground most important to Russian believers.

Both of these courses are available on DVD or MP3 for $25 each and both courses contain 40 hours of lectures. Other courses from such luminaries as John Willis, Tom Olbricht, Paul Watson, Richard Oster and James Thompson among many others are also available. One could actually get the knowledge base for an M.Div. by listening to these CDs. [Update: Unfortunately, it appears that the English materials are no longer available on the website as of 05/21/2009.]

The Institute is doing a wonderful work of training leaders for Russia and other former soviet states. It would be a wonderful place for someone to study theology, learn the Russian language and also obtain a cooperative M.A. from the University of St. Petersburg. Any potential missional disciples interested in Russia?

Medieval and Reformation Church History Course

I have uploaded the powerpoints for the “Medieval and Reformation Church History” course below. Warning: thye are large files.  These will help you follow the lectures if you listen to the audio but they make sense, for the most part, without the audio.

Medieval Catholicism and Orthodoxy (498 total slides)

1. Foundations of Medieval Christianity
2. Early Medieval Period
3. Missions, Theology and Liturgy
4. The Great Schism, 800-1204
5. The Collapse of Christian Europe

Reformation (361 total slides)

1. Late Medieval Context and Lutheran Reformation
2. Swiss Reformation and Unity Efforts: Zwingli, Bucer and Early Calvin
3. The Radical Reformation
4. The French and English Reformations
5. Catholic Counter-Reformation and Religious Wars

Systematic Theology Course

Below are the questions that I covered in the “Systematic Theology” (more like an Advanced Catechism) course in St. Petersburg. I have uploaded my all-too-brief summary answers to the questions for those interested (36 single-spaced pages). The summaries were guides for the Russian translators as they read the Russian exam papers. These answers briefly summarize what I said in class on each question. The audios, of course, are much more expansive than what is contained in these short summaries.

Creation and Fall

1. Why Did God Create?
2. What is the Importance of Creation and Humanity’s Role in It?
3. What is the Origin of Evil?
4. Why does God Permit Suffering?

Story and Redemption

5. What is the Role of Lament among Believers?
6. What is the Relationship between Scripture and Tradition?
7. What is the Kingdom of God?
8. What is the Meaning of the Lord’s Prayer?

Christology

9. What is the Economic Trinity?
10. Is Jesus God?
11. What is the Relationship of the Human and Divine Natures in Jesus?
12. What is the Meaning of Atonement?

Trinitarianism

13. What is Baptism in the Spirit?
14. What are the Gifts of the Spirit?
15. How Important is Trinitarianism for Christian Unity?
16. What is the Nature of Salvation?

Faith, Baptism and Discipleship

17. Why is Baptism by Immersion Important?
18. What is the Relationship of Faith and Baptism?
19. What is the Relationship between Faith, Works and Assurance?
20. What is Discipleship?

Christian Worship

21. What is the Nature of Christian Assembly?
22. What is the Significance of the Lord’s Day?
23. What is the Meaning of the Lord’s Supper?
24. How is Christ Present in the Supper?

Church

25. Is it Necessary to Tithe?
26. What is the Role of Fasting and Confession in the Christian Community?
27. What is Church?
28. Upon what Must the Church Unite?

Ecumenical Questions

29. How Do We Relate to Those Outside the Unity of the Faith?
30. How Do We Relate to Other Religions?
31. What are the Strong Points of Orthodox Theology?
32. What are the Weak Points of Orthodox Theology?

Piety and the Saints

33. Are Icons Idolatrous?
34. Where are the Dead?
35. What Should We Teach about Mary and the Saints?

Eschatology

36. How Do I Interpret Revelation?
37. What is Hell?
38. What is the New Heaven and the New Earth?

Stone-Campbell Theodicies: Nineteenth Century

 ”Theodicy in Early Stone-Campbell Perspectives,” in Restoring the First-Century Church in the Twenty-First Century, ed. by Warren Lewis and Hans Rollmann (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2005), 287-310.

In honor of Don Haymes, I penned an article concerning the various “theodices” that were prominent in the 19th century Stone-Campbell Movement. It was interesting to me that there is no “Theodicy” heading in the Stone-Campbell Encyclopedia though there is some discussion of the idea under the article entitled “Providence.”

Essentially, they were all theologically Arminian with an Augustinian understanding of the Fall. What I mean is this, they all located the origin of moral evil in the free agency of creatures (whether human or angelic). That is the Arminian part. At the same time, they all located natural evil in the “Fall” of humanity–either a punishment or consquence of sin within the cosmos. That is the Augustinian part. One can see both of these in Alexander Campbell and Robert Richardson and both affirmed a kind of “meticulous providence” over the world.

However, the North/South conflict and the cultural/theological developments of the late 19th century shaped theodicy in different ways within the movement.

On the one hand, the North embraced a more rational, scientific approach to theodicy. Emphasizing the embedded order within the cosmos, natural law regulated natural evil. Nature functioned independently–by divine design–of God’s specific will or intent. God did not and does not intervene within the cosmos except for redemptive-historical purposes (e.g., Exodus, Incarnation, Resurrection). This created a kind of Deism within northern thinking that denied any kind of “special” or “meticulous” providence (though all did not deny it and some continued the tradition of Campbell and Richardson). Among Churches of Christ, this is the tradition of Daniel Sommer or the Indiana Tradition.

On the other hand, the South (particularly in the deep south of TN, MS and AL, etc.) believed the cosmos was engaged in a radical spiritual conflict. It was the kingdom of God versus the kingdom of Satan (e.g., Lipscomb and Harding). This is essentially the Tennessee Tradition. God was involved in his world directing nations and individuals toward his ends, including the idea that God punished the South because of slavery. God is meticulously involved in his world and engaged in this cosmic conflict. Humanity is free to choose which side it will serve, but God will win in the end and even now sovereignly conducts the world according to his goals and interests. Lipscomb’s response to the overwhelming experience of evil in the Civil War was to acknowledge God’s sovereignty. Lipscomb does not “defend” or “justify” God. Rather, he submits and trusts. He recognized that God punished the South for slavery but also that the North was equally wicked for its vengeance, violence and materialism.

Some in the South rebelled against this construal, particularly in Texas (Texas Tradition). They embraced a Newtonian natural law understanding of natural evil and advocated a practical Deism. This is evidenced, in particular, in the “word only” theory of the Holy Spirit. God is self-constrained by natural law and Scripture for his own action in the world. This response to life is to protect God from involvement in the specific events of the world. God does not get his hands dirty in the daily functions of life, but regulates the world through laws (laws of nature and laws in Scripture). The loss of “Spirituality” (the work of the Spirit in the lives of people) in the Texas Tradition gravitated naturally toward a practical Deism.

In the context of opposing a deistic understanding of prayer, James A. Harding asked: “Does the Holy Spirit do anything now except what the Word does? Do we get any help, of any kind or in any way, from God except what we get by studying the Bible?… Does God answer our prayers by saying, ‘Study the Bible…’?” (“Questions and Answers,” The Way 4/16 [17 July 1902]: 123.)

Theodicy is too often encumbered by metaphysical assumptions, too driven by hermeneutical harmonization, and too distant from the affirmations and particularities of the text. Theodicy must arise out of the story we have been given, and perhaps it is not so much “theodicy” as “kergyma” that is our task. I find myself much more in line with Lipscomb/Harding than the Northern Disciples and the Southern Texans.

Maximum Grandparenting

Last night (Friday) and this morning (Saturday) I sat under the feet of Leon B. Sanderson–the son of L. O. Sanderson and Associate Minister at the White Station Church of Christ in Memphis Tennesse–who conducted a seminar on Maximum Grandparenting at the Woodmont Hills Family of God in Nashville, Tennessee. I enjoyed every aspect of this learning experience–from Leon’s lectures to the discussions at my table. I would recommend the seminar for any congregation with grandparents who want guidance and encouragement.

I have a tremendous amount of respect for Leon who was named Alumnus of the Year of the Harding Graduate School of Religion this month. Leon is a godly man whose wisdom and experience is rich with Scripture and authenic relationships. While Leon was a student of mine in a few classes at the Graduate School, he has taught me much more with his life-long interest in people. Now I have also experienced his kindness, wisdom and insight into grandparenting.

He reminded us that grandparents may fill the role of “remembering” within a family. They remember the story of the family, but they also remember the story of God. They are the intergenerational witness to the mighty acts of God and connect the coming generations with the faith of their fathers and mothers. They remember and tell the story.

Psalm 71:18 — So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come.

Psalm 78:1-7 — Give ear, O my people, to my teaching; incline your ears to the words of my mouth! I will open my mouth in a parable; I will utter dark sayings from of old, things that we have heard and known, that our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that he has done. He established a testimony in Jacob and appointed a law in Israel, which he commanded our fathers to teach to their children, that the next generation might know them, the children yet unborn, and arise and tell them to their children, so that they should set their hope in God and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments.

The goal of grandparenting is to participate in God’s maturing and forming of the next generation. They do this without lectures or shaming but with living and story-telling. They are God’s light to the path of the next generation.

Thanks, Leon, for a wonderful experience.  I needed that reminder as I am the grandparent of one….so far.

Palm Sunday: Psalm 118

The last of the Passover Psalms, Psalm 118, is the one which the crowd that lined the streets of Jerusalem shouted to welcome Jesus (Matthew 21:9): “Hosanna!” and “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” They blessed the one who came to declare the name of the Lord, the one who came in the service of Yahweh, and they cried for salvation (“Hosanna” means “save us”).

The Text

Psalm 118 is a thanksgiving song offered by one who had come to the temple to sacrifice a thank offering for his salvation. The text begins and ends with the great liturgical refrain of Israel’s temple worship:  “Give thanks toYahweh, for he is good; his love endures forever.” But the substance is an individual thanksgiving (“I”) whose refrain is the Lord has “become my salvation” (14, 21). Once lost in lament and hopelessness, God became his strength and refuge–the Lord became his song!

To see the meaning of this Psalm it is important to follow the flow of the song. Beginning and ending with a call to hanksgiving, the middle of the Psalm is the individual’s thanksgiving followed by the community’s affirmation.

     Liturgical Refrain (1)
               Communal Praise (2-4)
                         Individual Thanksgiving Song (5-21)
                                   Lament and Triumph (5-7)
                                  The Lord is My Strength (8-14)
                                  I Will Give Thanks (15-21)
                         Communal Response to Thanksgiving (22-27)
                Individual Praise (28)
     Liturgical Refrain (29)

As the worshipper entered the gates, Israel’s chorus declared: “His love endures forever.” And the worshipper sings his song. It is a story of lament and deliverance.  He sang of his anguish and seeming defeat; he thought he was going to die and he was ready to give up. Surrounded by enemies he discovered he could trust no one. He felt abandoned and chastened; lost and disciplined. He sensed failure and experienced hopelessness.

But the Lord was with him. He disciplined him but at the same time helped him. The right hand of Yahweh redeemed him from the pit; he lived and did not die. It is better to trust in the Lord because ultimately people and princes will disappoint. God alone is his salvation.

The community resounded with shouts of joy and victory. They welcomed the delivered one into their midst. They recognized that the rejected one–lost in abandonment and pain–is actually the chosen one, chosen by God. This one, though once lost in anguish, has now come to declare the praise of the Lord. Blessed is anyone who comes to exalt the name of Yahweh! The community joined the procession to the altar to give thanks with this worshipper and to offer their own prayer to the Redeemer of Israel:  “Yahweh, hosanna,” that is, “Lord, save us!”

Together they, the community and the worshipper, declare: “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”  Together they recognize that God has made a new day today, a day of salvation, deliverance and redemption. Today is the day of salvation. It is a time to rejoice and shout for joy. The worshipper who has come to the altar with his thanksgiving sacrifice testifies: “You are my God, and I will exalt you.”

The Worshipping Assembly

This Psalm is not simply about a particular individual in the past who sang his own thanksgiving song in the temple. Nor is it simply Messianic as if it was only and wholly about Jesus. It is about the God who continues to act in the lives of his people to save them from their troubles.

This worshipper’s thanksgiving song has become part of the communal praise book. Now it has become the community’s song. It is a scenario that can be replayed and renewed within the community. Others can take these words and sing them as their song of thanksgiving. Further, individuals even now still experience the redemptive hand of God in their lives.

Worshippers can re-enact this moment with their own songs. The public assembly of God’s people should be a place where people can bring their songs. They enter the gates to declare the mighty acts of God in their own lives, to declare how God has delivered them from their various pits to again join in the assembly’s chorus: “His love endures forever.” And the assembly hears the new songs with thanksgiving, praise and a renewed cry of “Hosanna” for the community.

Perhaps this is what Paul was talking about when he suggested that if anyone has a “psalm,” let them sing it (1 Corinthians 14:26). Let us hear the individual thanksgiving songs and let the congregation say “Amen!”  This, indeed, is to my mind what Jesus of Nazreth himself sings in the congregation: “I will declare your name to my brothers; in the presence of the congregation I will sing your praises” (Hebrews 2:12).

And the songs continue. Anyone who has ever heard Dennis Jernigan’s testimony sings “I Will Thank You” with renewed energy and gratitude. We need to hear the songs that we might join the anathem of praise and rejoice in the day of salvation, and–moreover–that we might renew our own cry of “Hosanna” in the midst of God’s people.

My Experience

For me assembly is communal lament and thanksgiving. I come to hear again the chorus of God’s love for his people. I come to hear again the stories of redemption through Jesus. And I come to hear the ongoing work of God among us–to hear the stories of praise and thanksgiving.  I come to hope again, to see again. I come for renewal.

And I also bring my story to the table. I bring my lament and deliverance. Nobody in their right mind would want to hear me sing it, but my heart remembers it and I speak it.  I do sing it with the congregation as we raise our voices together in song.

With the church I sing my lament. I remember my past losses, my lament. I bring my failures, my sense of abandonment and my sin to the assembly and hear again the love of God for me. I sense the “new song” in my heart every time I join with the chorus of praise and my heart is renewed with hope, joy and salvation.

That, my friends, is why I “go to church.”  I go to hear the stories of God’s saving acts among his people as well as to hear the story of God’s redemptive work through Jesus. I go to hope again. I go to declare again. I go to experience again the thanksgiving song and to forget–if only for a moment, an eschatological moment–the dark nights of my soul.

One day–when the eschatological moment finds its fulfillment in the new heaven and new earth–there will be no more night and all will be made new. There the mighty chorus of all God’s people will sing “Salvation belongs to our God and to the Lamb!”

Come, Lord Jesus.

Palm Sunday: Mark 11:11

This past Palm Sunday Dean Barham, the pulpit minister of the Woodmont Hills Family of God, challenged me to reflect more deeply about the function of Passion Week.

Using Mark 11:1-11 for his text, he recounted the story of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. What caught my attention in particular was his comment on Mark 11:11. While Jesus entered Jerusalem as the Messianic savior, when he visited the temple he just “looked around at everything” and went home. Dean raised an intriguing question:  what did Jesus see?

As we know, Jesus became a “testy guest” (to use Dean’s phrase) in Jerusalem that week. He questioned the authorities, scandalized the teachers, debated the Pharisees, announced the destruction of the temple, and ”cleaned house” (another Deanism). In effect, he inspected the fruit of Jerusalem and found it wanting. Just as he ecountered the barren fig tree on his way into Jerusalem and cursed it, so also Jerusalem–despite its regal temple and courtyards, despite its air of religiousity, despite its learning in Scriptures–lacked God’s heart. They knew the Scriptures, but they did not know what “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” meant. There was no fruit, no mercy. Their temple was a “den of robbers”–a hiding place for sinners–rather than a place for prayer and devotion to God for the nations.

Only a few bright spots emerged in that final week. A widow gave all she had though others were only making a show of their wealth as they gave out of their abundance. Mary showed her devotion to Jesus by anointing his head with expensive oil. On the whole, however, Jerusalem–just like its temple–needed cleansing.

It gives me pause to mediate. When Jesus enters my heart, what does he see?

As I walk through Passion Week over the next few days, I will read the Compline Prayers for Holy Week and Easter as well as follow the Divine Hours of the week. These thoughts will guide my meditation as I search out my own heart.  Is my heart more like the squabbling and squawking teachers of the law or is it more like the selflessness of the widow and the devotion of the one who anointed Jesus?

Children, Church and Baptism

I recently posted a brief statement on “Children at the Table” in which I suggested that the practice of sharing table communion with our children might be a good idea.

One question this raises, among others, is the relationship of children to the kingdom of God. For our paedo-baptist friends, it is obvious. Children are baptized into the community of faith based on the promise of God to the children of the covenant and through the faith of their parents. For those who do not practice infant baptism the question is rather different. Both traditions, however, struggle with the problem of “accountability,” that is, when does a child own their faith as their own (thus “confirmation” or other rituals in paedo-baptist traditions).

Within Churches of Christ we have historically held that children are “safe” (without sin) until they reach the “age of accountability” at which time they own their sin and become sinners (guilty). At that point, as I generally understood the theology, they are not only unsafe but also outside the grace of God. They do not belong to the kingdom. Consequently, children (ranging from ages 9-13 generally) are instructed about baptism, their sin, and their need for Jesus. As a result, Churches of Christ usually reap a baptismal harvest from among their children between the ages of 9-13 (I myself was 11 when I was baptized by my father).

This approach assumes that children move from “safe” to “lost” and then are “saved” when they are baptized. The tricky point, however, is how to identify the exact moment, time and circumstance when they move from “safe” to “lost.” Existentially this is an important question. If one’s child dies at the age of ten unbaptized is the child “safe” or “lost”? What if the child is thirteen or fifteen? It is a harsh question but a living one.

I would hope that we might all have the grace and mercy to say the  deceased child now experiences the embrace of the loving Father covered in the mercy of Jesus. But on what theological or biblical grounds do we say that  if we believe that children within the church move from “safe” to “lost” at some point which we cannot identify.

When I baptized my daughter at the age of eleven, I can say with absolute certainty that if she had died the night before I would have ”preached her into heaven” (as the saying goes). Existentially, in my mind at least, my daughter was not baptized to move her from “lost” to “saved.”

So what do we do with this theological impasse? I suppose one could argue that my love for my daughter blinded me to her “lostness.” I suppose one could suggest that she was not ready for baptism if she was not “lost” and perhaps she was baptized too early. But I question the theological underpinnings of the notion that our children move from “safe” to “lost” to “saved” (once baptized).

My daughter always believed in Jesus. There was never a time when she did not believe. She always believed according to her capacity to believe. Her faith developed through various levels of faith and discipleship but her faith was present throughout. From her first singings of “Jesus loves me” to her confession of faith at her baptism–faith was a constant in her life.

What do I do with that? I believe that through faith she was not merely “safe” but “saved,” that is, living in communion and relationship with God as her faith developed and her discipleship matured. As our children grow up in faith and live within a faith community, they enjoy a relationship with God through family, community and their own childlike faith.

Their growth in faith is marked throughout their family and communal life. Some faith communities have rituals to mark the various moments of faith, even something as simple as reciting the Lord’s prayer or as dramatic as a “graduation into the Youth Group.” The most dramatic, biblical and initiatory ritual is baptism.

When our children who have been nurtured in faith and have expressed their faith in a multitude of ways come to baptism, I do not believe they come as “lost” people. Rather, they come as children of the church, children of the faith community. They come already belonging to the kingdom of God–they are not “lost” nor “safe” but already in communion with God.

They come to baptism to declare their faith. They come to publically embrace their discipleship. They come to become full participants in the life of the faith community through owning their own faith and committing themselves to following Jesus to the cross. They follow Jesus into the water in order to follow him to the cross.

Baptism for our children is a climatic act of faith. It dramatically initiates them into a life of discipleship.

I think the baptism of Jesus is a model for this. Jesus did not come to his baptism as one who was “lost.” He came to his baptism to declare his discipleship–a follower of the Father who intended to do the will of the Father, even to cross. His baptism began his public ministry, his public life as a disciple. But he had been a disciple long before his baptism. He had been nurtured in faith by Joseph and Mary, he had been taught at the synagogue, he had celebrated Israel’s redemption at the Passover, etc.  In effect, he had matured as a disciple through his first thirty years and owned his mission at his baptism in obedience to the Father.

Our children do something similar. They have been nurtured by family and community. They have walked a path of faith and discipleship throughout their years. And when they come to their baptism, they do not come as “lost” little people. They come as believers–people who have lived in relationship with God since their birth–ready to own their discipleship, declare their allegiance to the Father, and commit to the way of the cross as followers of Jesus.

That view of baptism is a bit higher than just moving from “lost” to “saved.” To convince a child they have done bad things and they need forgiveness is much simpler task than to wait for them to own their discipleship and commit to the way of the cross.

Perhaps if we thought that our children lived in communion with God through faith we would not rush them to the water as soon as they become aware of some distinctions about good and evil. Perhaps if we thought our children were saved by God’s grace through faith we could patiently wait for the moment when they are fourteen or sixteen or even eighteen for them to declare their discipleship and take up the mission of Jesus.

I am not suggesting a particular age for baptism. I don’t know what that should be; everyone must decide for themselves. But what I am suggesting is that to pressure our children into baptism in order to soothe our own worries and fears about their salvation is rooted in a misguided theology.

While I do not know if David Lipscomb would agree with what I have written above, I do know that he believed that a child was sufficiently prepared for baptism if she believed that she was acting in obedience to the Father whether she believed she had sin or not. In conclusion, I offer a few selections from David Lipscomb which I think share the principle I applied to this discussion. I offer them for not only historical perspective, but for careful reflection as well.

It is not an accident that those whose hearts and lives were most deeply steeped in sin, like the slayers of Jesus Christ and Saul seeking the death of all Christians, were told how to be freed from sin; while nothing of this is said to Timothy, trained and nurtured in the religion of the Bible to understand and obey its teachings, or Cornelius and Nicodemus, seeking to know the will of God, or Jesus Christ, willing to die to honor his Father’s will. Each was taught as his condition required, and God was well pleased with obedience of all classes. [1]

The spirit in which one should come to Christ is that of a little child, knowing but little, but trusting in God, and glad in his ignorance and helplessness to follow God and do what God desires him to do, and because God desires it. “Ye are my friends, if ye do the things I command you.” A better motive to do than because God commanded it never moved a man. [2]

When one reared in the training and instruction of the Lord like Timothy desires to enter Christ, his case is divine inspiration to guide him. The little girl’s wish to be baptized because Jesus wanted her to be, is as much the direction of the Spirit of God as for the murderers of the Lord to “be baptized into the remission of sins.” Those desirous to learn and do the will of God while children cannot be oppressed with a heavy weight of guilt, but find direction into the body of Christ, where all evils are banished and all blessings abound. Were one as faithful as the Son of God to be found, it would only be necessary that he be baptized to fulfill the will of God. [3]

[1] David Lipscomb, “What Must a Man Know to Fit Him to Enter Christ?” Gospel Advocate 55 (27 November 1913) 1156.

[2] David Lipscomb, “Query Department,” Gospel Advocate 52 (6 October 1910) 1109.

[3] David Lipscomb, “A Summary. No. 2,” Gospel Advocate 56 (1 January 1914) 11.

A Ten-Word Faith Statement for My Grandchildren?

As part of the the Maximum Grandparenting seminar, Leon Sanderson challenged us to think of a ten-word summary that we would like to leave as a legacy for our grandchildren. It might be something we would constantly repeat in their ears or it may simply summarize what it is that we want to communicate to them in various ways.

What would be your ten-word summary? What are the key words that come to your mind? Ten words is arbitrary but it does force focus, brevity and accentuation.

Many suggestions were offered but most focused on words like trust, faith, love, hope, and gratitude among others. I devised my own.  I kinda like it, but I know my emphases may change with future experiences. It is meaningful to me as stated, but I know it may sound stiff to others or even vaccuous. Neverthless, at this moment–right now–these words are what I lean upon in my faith journey….and I would hope that I could pass it on to my grandchildren as well as my children–perhaps not in these exact words but hopefully the ideas and its passion.  Here it is:

“Trust God’s love for you and gratefully enjoy God’s presence.”

Trust–or faith–is so difficult.  Our experiences seemingly teach us to doubt and fear. Broken promises, failed relationships, painful moments with those we supposed loved us, abandonment and emotional distance create a vaccum of trust. We tend to project these onto God and thus learning to trust God’s love for us becomes difficult.

Indeed, we know ourselves too well–or perhaps not well enough.  We sense that we are unworthy of love, so filled with junk that we are unlovable.  Our brokenness teaches us to doubt whether anyone could really love us. We believe that if another really and fully knew us they would not truly love us.

Discovering God’s love, experiencing it, feeling it and trusting it are foundational for healthy, holy and whole living. Here is where we discern our identity:  we are lovable because we are loved.  When we feel loved by God, our lives become centered in his estimation of us. This is where we find our worth and value. God’s love gives to us and enables us to love others.

Joy–to enjoy–is the intent of creation. God created us to enjoy him as he enjoys us. God delights in his people just as he delighted in his own Son. The first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism asks what the primary goal of humanity is and the answer is “to glorify God and enjoy him forever.”  The glory of God is to enjoy his creation and we glorify him when we enjoy him. This is what God intended for life–joy, pleasure, delight, and he gives it to us if we would but trust his love.

We enjoy God’s presence in solitude. God comes to us in our inner world; he meets us in silence, meditation and prayer. There we listen to him, “feel after him,” and rest in his peace.  To clear our heads–silence the multiple voices that distract us–is to give God the space to assure us through presence.

We enjoy God’s presence in relationships. God created us in community as a community. Our relationships mirror his own Triune relationship. Through connecting and listening to others, we connect with God who is present in holy and godly relationships. The church–the beloved community of God–is not incidental to spiritual life but a means by which God encounters us through others. When we are loved by the community we also feel the love of God.

We enjoy God’s presence in assembly. The assembly is a present experience of a future reality; it is a proleptic experience, an eschatological event. Assembled and gathered to God, we transcend time and space to join with the whole host of heaven and earth around God’s throne. Gathering with the community is no addendum to spiritual life but a means by which God promises us the future.

Gratitude–thanksgiving–is our response to God’s gracious presence. The joy of divine presence generates gratitude and it is also an act of faith in the middle of a broken world filled with hurting lives. Given God’s presence, we act in faith–we trust God’s love and declare, as an act of faith, our thanksgiving for the presence we sense.

I end every day with some statement of gratitude. At times it seems that I can only think of something minor (though it is still quite major to many, e.g., I have running water and sewage). At other times I sense the magnitude of the divine gifts to me.

But gratitude is ultimately not about the stuff and comforts of my American lifestyle. It is the praise of the God who loved me when I thought I was unlovable. It is the praise of the God who communes with me even when I feel so unworthy. I gratefully enjoy God’s presence.

A ten-word summary? Impracticable? Insufficient? Probably. But the exercise forced me to think about what I really believe is important. It focused what I really want my legacy of faith to be.  Trust, love, joy, gratitude–these are the words that matter to me and they have not always been the focus of my journey.

Thanks, Leon. You challenged me to focus again and reminded me of what is truly important.

Do you have a suggestion for a ten-word summary? Share it with us.

 

 

David Lipscomb (1912)

As I continue to study and think about the Texas, Tennessee and Indiana Traditions within Churches of Christ in the first decades of the 20th century, I have  been reading through the Gospel Advocate in those early years of the last century.  I thought I would provide a sampling of what has interested me in the editorials of David Lipscomb in his 81st year of life.  Here are few “gems.”

Opposing the Rebaptists of Texas.  Lipscomb is still very much concerned about the sectarianism of the rebaptist position. He wrote several articles at the beginning of 1912 on the question. In one he thought the rebaptist position begat extremes among the Baptists and that Baptists and disciples had much more in common than different in their understanding of baptism. When a Baptist was accused by a Rebaptist of denying certain truths about baptism, Lipscomb thought it “imaginary” (remember that Lipscomb was a former Baptist himself).

None such ever occurred or will occur. Especially is this true in places and communities where the Bapitst have not had to struggle with the misrepresentations of our rebaptist friends. One extreme begets another, and the rebaptist extreme leads to this Baptist extreme. The two extremes lead to restrictions of both parties.[1]

Rebaptists believed that one had to have a precise understanding that baptism was the moment of salvation (“for the remission of sins”) as a condition for the validity of the baptism. Lipscomb opposed this. One of the common arguments made by Rebaptists was that just as one had to understand the design of the Lord’s Supper to authentically participate, so one had to understand the design of baptism to experience authentic baptism.  Lipscomb addressed this point in a poignant way that drew the argument into the larger world of how God deals with humanity in their weaknesses.

The example [the disciples at the Last Supper, JMH]  is not very flattering to humanity, but one that very strongly commends to us the love and condescension of God. It invites us to love and humility, condescension and helpfulness, to the poverty and needs of humanity. Let us look in kindness and pity on human mistakes and infirmities and bless and help as we need help and blessing. The forbearing, humble, helpful spirit that leads us to help the weak, forbear with the ignorant, and lend an uplifting and helping hand to every child of mortality is as much a part, and a vital part, of the religion of Jesus as the belief of any proposition or truth connected with that religion. Man is much more intolerant and ready to condemn and repel the children of men from the helps and privileges of gospel truth than God is. Let one take the mental and moral condition of those who partook of the first Supper under the direction of Jesus and compare them with the intelligence and standing of those they reject and repel [those immersed to obey God, JMH], and he must feel the inconsistency. Our mission and work is to bury and hide shortcoming and imperfections in faith and life, and, while teaching the will of God as he gave it, to encourage the weakest and most feeble to walk in his ways as he has given it and as far as they understand it. The work of Jesus in the ordination of the Supper is often as much violated and set as naught as the rights of those who believe baptism is for the remission of sins. Let us cherish and walk in the spirit of Christ. Both Baptists and many disciples are sinful in their exclusiveness in religion.[2]

The Sermon on the Mount. In a couple of series on the “religion of Jesus,” Lipscomb concentrates on the Sermon on the Mount. According to Lipscomb, ”our present and eternal peace depend upon doing what God commands in this Sermon.”[3] There were many interesting observations in his articles. But I thought this one particularly noteworthy as it contrasted with what the Texas and Indian Traditions stressed–and a growing number in the regions of Tennessee.

The mission of Jesus into the world was to bring the world back under the dominion or rule of God, into his kingdom, under his rule or authority. This was the end or purpose of the mission of Jesus….So they were to pray, ‘Thy kingdom come,”—that his rule or dominion on earth be established. Many looking at this from its bearing on the teachings of this age conclude this prayer now should not be made. Those persons confuse the opening or establishment of the kingdom with its dominion, rule, or completion of its work of bringing the whole world under the authority and rule of God. The establishiment of the kingdom of God in the world and the completion or end of that work are two wholly different things or ends. So long as the world or any part of the human family are not in the kingdom of God and not in obedience to his law this petition may and should be humbly made for God to aid and bless the children of God in subjecting the world to him….When God’s will is done on earth as it is done in heaven, it will change the earth of woe and suffering into a heaven of bliss and joy.[4]

Hermeneutics–The Function of the Gospels.  One of the more surpsing but invigorating articles by Lipscomb was his discussion of the role of the Gospels, Acts and Epistles in New Testament theology. While many divide the New Testament at Acts 2 and derive their ecclesiology from Acts and the Epistles, Lipscomb insisted on the centrality of the ministry and teachings of Jesus in the Gospels. Hold on to your hat for this one.

To object to what Jesus psoke and made known before his death is to attack the genuiness and validity of any will from him. Jesus himself said: ‘The law and the prophets were until John: from that time the gospel of the kingdom of God is preached, and every man entereth violently into it.” (John [sic; but he means Luke, JMH] 16:16.) Those who fix the reign or law of Jesus Christ after the death of Christ need to study the teachings of Jesus.

All that Jesus Christ spoke or gave to the world consitituted a portion of the will of Jesus that went into effect after his death…The laws of Jesus Christ are given in the sayings and teachings of Christ recorded in the four biographies of Christ. [Yes, you read that correctly, JMH]

The law is given in the personal teachings of Jesus. The Acts of Apostles and the Epistles are the applications by inspired teachers of the king to the churches and the applications of the Bible to the facts of life as they arise in the world [occasionality? JMH]. These applications and exemplifications of the truths of the Bible to the workings of the world greatly help in the study of the Bible by the common people. But there is not a truth or a thought in the application of these parables that is not in the teaching of Jesus…Jesus is the lawgiver. The whole law of God to the world is taught by him. The Acts of the Apostles and Epistles explain what the teachings mean, but they do not add to or detract from them. A change or modification in the teachings of Jesus would be treason against him and God.[5]

That is just a taste.  More to come at another time.

References

[1] David Lipscomb, “Difference between Baptists and Disciples,” Gospel Advocate 54 (4 January 1912) 17

[2] David Lipscomb, “Jesus Christ and the Rebaptists,” Gospel Advocate 54 (11 January 1912) 45, 49.

[3] David Lipscomb, “The Religion of Christ Made Easy. No. 4,” Gospel Advocate 54 (28 March 1912) 401.

[4] David Lipscomb, “The Religion of Christ Made Easy,” Gospel Advocate 54 (7 March 1912) 305.

[5] David Lipscomb, “When Was the Will of Christ Made?” Gospel Advocate 54 (2 May 1912) 554.

David Lipscomb (1912)–More Gems

The octogenarian David Lipscomb, knowing his last years were upon him, intentionally broached subjects and pressed points that he hoped would shape the future of the church. Here are few examples.

Debates Need to End. Lipscomb thought that debates between “Baptists and disciples” needed to change or cease. They needed to stress the commonalities more than the differences. He believed much more united them than divided them.

It has been a growing thought in my mind for some years that the end or purpose of debates among professing Christians should be changed. Now they debate to see how much and how far they differ. Each tries to make the faith of the other look as bad as possible. That is not a kind and fraternal way of treating each other. Doctor Loftin and Brother [F. W.] Smith have been discussing the differences between the disciples and the Baptists. In doing this they were compelled to observe the points of agreement. Without the knowledge of either of them, I propose that they discuss and show the points of agreement between them. They both believe in the Bible as the word of God; in God, the Father; in Jesus Christ, the Son of God and Savior of the world; in the Hooly Spirit, who came to the world to guide men in the paths of salvation. They both believe in faith, repentance and baptism into Christ….The controversy is as to the point at which, in his mind, God forgives the sins of one coming to him. Does man’s knowledge of the point at which God forgives sin hinder or help God in forgiving when the sinner comes to the place in the path of obedience? [1]

General Booth and the Salvation Army. Lipscomb’s preference for the poor is on full display as he comments on the death of William Booth (1829-1912), the founder of the Salvation Army.

But he was not a man to be laughed out of his work. His work was a much-needed, but neglected, work. It was a God-approved work. God has instructed his children to preach to the poor. They were not, are not, doing it. When the world saw Booth, a man of faith and energy and life, engage in the work, they responded promptly to his call and helped forward his work. He has moved the whole religious world on this point of preaching to the poor. That was a needed work. It is a work, an effort in a direction to which all should respond. All should magnify the work of preaching to the poor and helping the needy by all speaking well of, and encouraging in a right way, the work ordained by God. The work of helping and preaching to the poor should be exalted and magnified by the children of God leading in and exalting that work, by Christians doing it in God’s appointed ways and through the provisions he has made. [2]

Humble Obedience. In his continuing war against rebaptism, Lipscomb constantly stressed the nature of true obedience. It was not a matter of perfect or precise understanding but about trust (faith). This piece goes to the heart of his argument against rebaptism. Saving obedience is not about precision, perfection or even fully accurate understanding. It is about the mercy of God.

The letters to the churches show much weakness and many mistakes and wrongs among Christians in the early ages of the church; but not once do we find a person rejected or required to do his work over again for weakness of faith or misunderstanding requirements. To do this is something new under the sun, and is of man, not of God. I had rather go before God realizing my weakness and liability to sin, trusting him for mercy and pardon, than to go relying upon my good understanding and obedience to the perfect will of God. I hope and trust to be saved, not by the fullness and correctness of my understanding of God’s will, but by his love and mercy to all who want to serve him. [3]

“Poor in Spirit” the Key to Unity. This comment is from 1911 but it dovetails with the previous point. Again in conversation with Rebaptists, he stressed that their sectarianism is destroying not only the unity of God’s people but undermining the priority of faith.

The first prerequisite for entrance into the kingdom of God is, one should feel ‘poor in spirit.’ He must feel his own lack of spiritual power or resources before he can come to God in an acceptable spirit, in a spirit that God will accept. The spirit that feels its poverty, its helplessnesses, its need of guidance and strength, is the one that God looks on with pity and compassion and is willing to lift up and guide.”

We have pleaded for the union of Christians. Our work has been felt. Are we fit to still lead on in this work? While emphasizing truths connected with this union, have not we become sectarian ourselves? Many have espoused a common sectarianism with the churches around us [the Disciples of Christ, JMH]. Are not many others moving into a sectarianism in opposition to others [the Rebaptists, JMH]? Let us be humble and faithful, looking to God for help and guidance, and not be self-sufficient.

‘For remission,’ or ‘into the remission of sins,’ occupying its God-given place among other blessings leading to obedience, is a wholesome doctrine, full of comfort and blessing; but, taking out of it place and exalted above other blessings and favors promised by God, it becomes a party ensign and hinders rather than helps forward the union of God’s people and the salvation of the world. God makes all of his truths helpful in leading men forward in the work of salvation, yet he demands that his requirements should all be treated alike, each occupying the place assigned it by God himself. To exalt one promise or one duty above another is to mutilate and subvert the plan of salvation and hinder rather than help to save man. Faith in Jesus Christ as the great, leading, far-reaching principle that molds the life and leads to and helps every act of service, God has placed before and above all other services of man. The acts of obedience that grow out of faith, as fruits of faith, come in to complete and finish the character and life of the believer, and to fit it for a home with God. [4]

Overemphasis on Baptism? What does it mean to preach the Word? Lipscomb saw among his contemporaries some dangerous tendencies and he called them back to the fundamentals of Christianity—the Sermon on the Mount. Once again, for Lipscomb, the gospel is not simply the death and resurrection of Jesus, it is the good news of the kingdom breaking into the world to transform lives as into the image of Christ.

Every spiritual system as a standard of excellence to which it proposes to bring man….The Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5, 6, 7) gives the theory and rules of life to attain that standard. The principles laid down in the Sremon on the Mount, lived up to as Jesus did, would produce the life he lived….That Sermon is the perfection and consummation of the gospel of God to the world. To teach and preach these truths and principles to man is to bring the gospel in its fullness to man

There is no virtue in believing, repenting, and being baptized unto the remission of sins, and then doing nothing to left up and help men as Jesus labored to help them. Nothing short of the full life of Christ as an example and help to man is the gospel. How few of us realize this truth! When we preach faith, repentance, and baptism, we satisfy ourselves and teach others that we have preached the gospel, and those who act on these teaching think that they have obeyed the gospel. Hence the immense number who come into the church and imagine their salvation is secure and do nothing more. Young men often come to the Bible School and want to get up sermons that will enable them to debate with the sects. To qualify a young man to debate with the sects is nine times out of ten to make him a sectarian. Having truth does not hinder sectarianism. A man may hold the truth, not in the love of it; he may hold it to build up his party, not to honor God and save sinners. Sectarianism is sinful whether it is based on the truth or not. Training young preachers to debate is not to educate them in the needed Bible teaching. Often it is hurtful to a young man’s usefulness and his after life to make a debater of him. The debating spirit is often not the Christian spirit. The spirit that suffers and stands steadfast unto the end is the one that God [5]

The more I read Lipscomb the more I appreciate his heart for the poor, the humility of his spirit, his earnest desire to obey God in every thing, and his hatred of sectarianism. 

Footnotes

[1] David Lipscomb, “A New Discussion Proposed,” Gospel Advocate 54 (19 Dec 1912) 1377.

[2] David Lipscomb, “General Booth,” Gospel Advocate 54 (19 Sept 1912) 1049

[3] David Lipscomb, “God is Best Pleased with the Humblest and Most Obedient Trust in Him,” Gospel Advocate 54 (30 May 1912) 671.

[4] David Lipscomb, “Religious People Hard to Move,” Gospel Advocate 53 (2 March 1911) 268-69.

[5] David Lipscomb, “’Preach the Word,’ Gospel Advocate 53 (25 May 1911) 587, 590.

Holy Saturday: In the Grave He Lay

Good Friday and then Easter!

But a day is missing in that story. To move from Friday to Sunday one must walk through Saturday.

Saturday, however, is a lonely day. Death has won. Hope is lost. Jesus of Nazareth lies in a tomb. His disciples are afraid, hiding and deeply depressed. Everything they had invested in for the past three years seems pointless now.  They are leaderless, hopeless and aimless.

Holy Saturday is the day we sit by the grave. It is the day to feel the gloom of the grave, to face the reality of death itself. It is a day to weep, fast and mourn. The late second century church (e.g., Irenaeus) fasted from all food on this day because it was a day of mourning. They did not break the fast till Easter morning.

Those of us who have spent time at graves–in my case the grave of a parent, wife and child–understand this grief, the despair of the grave. I have spent much of my life running away from graves, and have rarely spent much time thinking about Holy Saturday.

It is much easier to skip from Friday to Easter than to dwell on Holy Saturday. It is like, as happened in my life, skipping grief as much as possible. It is easier to run from grief, escape it rather than face it.

Holy Saturday reminds me to grieve, to lament. It reminds me to rail against death, the enemy of both God and humanity. It reminds to protest death and renew my hatred for it. It reminds to feel again and sit with the disciples in their despair.

Indeed, to sit with the disciples in their despair is to sit with humanity in the face of death. When we sit at the grave we recognize our powerlessness. We cannot reverse death; we cannot defeat this enemy. Holy Saturday creates a yearning for Easter. We need Easter for without it we are dead.

Today (Friday) we remember the death, tomorrow we sit at the grave, but on Sunday we are renewed by the hope of the resurrection. 

Jesus walked that path and we follow him.  We, too, will have our Friday, one day we will be entombed in a grave, and–by the grace and mercy of God–on that great day we will rise again to walk with Jesus upon the new heaven and new earth.

That is the meaning of Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter.

Evangelical Crucicentrism: A Post-Easter Reflection

David Bebbington, Evangelicalism in Modern Britain (1989), 3, identifies biblicism (sola scriptura), conversionism (“born again”), activism (missions, historic social engagement such as abolition, temperance, abortion, etc.) and crucicentrism as marks of historic British Evangelicalism.

Each of these resonates with me as an important dimension of American Evangelicalism and, more particularly, as part of the story of Churches of Christ in the 20th century with the exception of activism. Our “conversionism” had a different definition than Evangelicalism as we stressed conversion through the “five steps of salvation.”

But tonight, on this Easter evening, crucicentrism–the focus on the cross as the atoning work of Christ as the redemptive act of God–is my concern. Bebbington’s identification is spot on, I think, and I see it in my own tradition.

For example, how many Evangelical songs focus on the cross but how few focus on the resurrection? I can count on one hand the repetorie of resurrection songs available to the church on Easter (and that is about the only time we sang them) but I would have to use my toes and several hundred people to count the number of “Cross” songs available and regularly sung throughout the year.

Another example is resurrection sermons within historic Evangelicalism and among Churches of Christ were mostly–if not wholly–apologetic in character. Oh, of course, there was the theological nod to our future resurrection and present hope, but the focus was usually upon the evidential value of the resurrection rather than its theological meaning. It was as if the ministry and life of Jesus proved he was the Son of God by miracles and sinless life and the resurrection was the capstone demonstration of such.

I recognize that the resurrection declares Jesus’ sonship (e.g., Romans 1:4), but it does this in more pregnant ways than simply validating or verifying a truth claim. For example, as Moltmann and Pannenberg have taught me, the resurrection is itself an eschatological event within history; it is an act of God that comes from the future. The resurrection participates in the future; it is the future present within history. Resurrection is theological promise and present hope.

Moreover, resurrection–as recent discussions of the new heaven and new earth reflect–is an affirmation of creation itself. The body has a future; creation has a future. Jesus, as a raised human, is the new humanity–embodied, material, and the inaugurator a renewed creation.  And much more could be said about the theological meaning of the resurrection, including ethics.

Resurrection is also a redemptive event; not just the Cross. Incarnation is a redemptive event, not just the cross. The Ministry of Jesus is a redemptive event, not just the Cross.

Crucicentrism, in my opinion, actually distorts the fullness of the gospel, the good news.  The good news of the kingdom, which Jesus himself preached, is broader and fuller than the Cross itself. Jesus preached the gospel before he ever said a word about his death. The Cross is redemptive, atoning and salvific–no doubt in my mind, but so is the Incarnation, Ministry, Resurrection and Ascension of Jesus as well.

Crucicentrism, it seems to me, is a heavy-handed emphasis on and exaggeration of some Pauline language. Often Paul balances cross and resurrection (e.g., Romans 4:25), but sometimes he only mentions the cross (e.g., 1 Corinthians 2:2-5). Paul’s boasting in the cross has been extracted as his central core rather than reading those texts in the context of the specific occasions of his preaching (e.g., the focus on “Christ crucified” in 1 Corinthians 2 stresses the weakeness in which God came just as Paul himself came in weakness to Corinth).

When we read the Gospels Jesus’ death as a theological event receives little emphasis except as it is narrated (which is huge, of course). When we read the preaching in Acts, the resurrection is stressed rather than the death and little theological meaning is attached to the death in those sermons (which contrasts with standard Evangelical preaching on the Cross).

My point is not that we should never talk about the Cross or explore its meaning.  God forbid!  My point is that crucicentrism does not give sufficient attention to the Christ Event as a whole. It does not recognize the equal importance of Incarnation, Ministry, Resurrection and Ascension. Crucicentrism tends to relegate Incarnation and Ministry to necessary conditions for the Cross and Resurrection and Ascension as rewards of Christ’s obedient death, and thus the Cross stays at the center (crucicentrism). But I think that underplays the theological meaning of Incarnation, Ministry, Resurrection and Ascension. It is not the Cross that is at the center, but Christ–the whole Christ.

The Gospel is Good Friday through Holy Saturday into Easter Sunday.  But the Gospel is also Christmas and Pentecost. The Gospel is also Epiphany (with the Eastern emphasis, not the reductionistic Western one). The Gospel is the story of Jesus Christ come into the world to redeem the world through his Incarnation, Ministry, Death, Resurrection and Ascension.

David Lipscomb (1911)

Continuing my reading of Lipscomb in the first decades of the 20th century, I have lifted a few more what I regard as illuminating comments by the 80 year old editor of the Gospel Advocate.

Publish Both Sides for Free Discussion. Lipscomb believed that fair, thorough and open discussion of a biblical issue was the best course to follow. Truth would reign in such a situation and evil would be vanquished. Consequently the Gospel Advocate under his editorship published both sides of a discussion (part of the Tennessee Tradition of open discussion).  However, not everyone followed this policy such as Joe S. Warlick of The Gospel Guide (Texas Tradition paper) and Daniel Sommer of the Octographic Review (Indiana Tradition). When B. C. Goodpasture excluded NI (non-institutional) writers from the Gospel Advocate in the 1950s, this was one of the premier articles referenced by the excluded (cf. Fanning Yater Tant, “I Would Cease to Read It,” Gospel Guardian 6.12 [29 July 1954] 5).

This good has come from holing the Gospel Advocate open to discuss the evils of introducing into the church things not required by God. Evil has seemed to grow out of this by the failure to treat the subject as God directs. If these evils are not discussed, we disobey God and leave evil to run riot in the churches. Evil will grow up in the churches, and the failure to expose it is to invite the evil…I said: ‘I do not read [Joe S.] Warlick’s paper, because he will not publish both sides of a question.’…Brother [Daniel] Sommer, of the Octographic Review, adopted this policy some years ago, the only example of it I had ever known among disciples. I ceased to read his paper, and we get along so peaceably. The Guide adopts the same plan. I treat both alike…I would like to see all of us get along pleasantly and harmoniously in obeying the commands of God. But if the Gospel Advocate were to adopt this policy of criticizing others and refusing to let them reply, I would cease to read it. [1]

Women and Public Speaking.  If there is any question where Lipscomb reveals his enculturation, it is on the question of women in the church and society.  When he was asked about the practice of some Sommer churches in the north that permitted women to lead prayer, read Scripture and exhort the assembly, his response is quite strict. He extends the prophibition against public speaking to outside the assembly of the church.  To his credit, however, he did publish a response from Silena Moore Holman who was not only an elder’s wife but the president of the Tennessee chapter of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Movement. This is a woman with whom Lipscomb had significant disagreements–she was a public speaker and politically involved. Nevertheless, he published both sides.

Again, there is no law prohbiting women’s speaking under the Jewish law. So the failure to authorize them to speak under that law amounted to a prohibition to speak. The same rule holds good now. While the language in 1 Cor. 14 certainly embraces the Lord’s-day meeting, it is difficult to say that it is confined to it.

All the reasons given and the facts stated condemn woman’s leadership in other places as well as in the church on Lord’s day…All public teaching and speaking on any subject at any place puts woman out of place, out of her God-given work. She is by nature and disposition suited to a quiet, retiring service. She may use these conditions to teach and develop her abilities and work as a teacher and instructor of all.

God forbids woman to take a leading public part in teaching people at any time; but she may in a quiet, modest way teach the Bible to men, women and children, at home or a place of meeting. God has appointed but one regular, necessary meeting on the Lord’s day, where certain worship is to be performed. He allows other meetings for worship as his children may approve. But woman is not permitted to take a leading part in any of them. She may instruct in a modest way where men fail to do it. All meetings of the church are church meetings. Some are for specific purposes; others to teach, encourage, and help each other. Women ought to be modest at all of them. Men should be active to lead, and all things will work well. [2]

Women Baptizing? In response to a question from a reader, Lipscomb opposed this as a public leadership role. It did not suit the role of woman in both society and church to have such a public face. In his response Lipscomb reveals his prejudice against immigrant Catholics who are proliferating in “northern lands” because progressive women seek careers and public leadership rather than bearing and raising children.

God never called woman to such public works….there is no intimation that they will be saved from it, or blessed in seeking to do man’s work as a leader and guide of man….Some Southern women are following in the steps of these [progressive women, JMH] and are becoming public speakers and business managers, and they are failing to bear children, and in a generation or two the Catholics will take the lead here. [3]

Or, in another place, when he is concerned about how men are retreating from leadership in the church, he wrote:

 There are two causes that lead men to cease to attend the church and take part in the teaching and worship of the church. The first is, the women are forward to take part in the service, and especially to lead and teach….The Bible, taken as a whole, in all its works and institutions, makes woman a home keeper and imposes on her the work of bearing and rearing children. To this work, if not perverted, her tates and inclinations will lead her. Let us all faithfully and truly work as God has appointed, and he will abundantly bless.” [4]

The Work of Jesus is the Work of the Church.  Lipscomb has a consistent emphasis on the relationship of the church to the poor and weak. Here is a succinct but profound statement of his position that one can see in almost every other editorial by Lipscomb in these last years.  I wonder why he sense a deep need to emphasize it–cultural shifts in the church, or at his age he simply emphasized what he thought was most important. In any event, here is a good example:

 How many professed Christians are there that give time and labor to help the poor and needy, the sick and destitute in the world? Are professed Christians more apt to do good in helping others as Christ did than those not Christians? The work of the Christian is to do the work of Jesus. The spiritual body of Christ, the church, should continue the work he did in the fleshly body. So being trained to the same work, we may be fitted to dwell with him in his home. If we cannot and do not the work of Jesus, it is because we are none of his. [5]

In my opinion, Lipscomb is batting .500 for his views in this post.  I’m grateful that both he and I are saved by grace through faith rather by a knowledge that bats 1.000 (or, what batting average is required if it is not by grace?).

Footnotes:

[1] David Lipscomb, “Difficulties and Differences Among Christians,” Gospel Advocate 53 (12 January 1911) 44-45

[2] David Lipscomb, “Information Wanted on the ‘Woman Question’,” Gospel Advocate 53 (19 January 1911), 78-79.

[3] David Lipscomb, “Query Department,” Gospel Advocate 53 (26 October 1911), 1222.

[4] David Lipscomb, “Stopping the Leak,” Gospel Advocate 53 (14 December 1911) 1454-5.

[5] David Lipscomb, “Can We Too Rigidly Follow God’s Law,” Gospel Advocate 53 (9 March 1911) 303.

David Lipscomb (1910)

Towards the end of 1909 David Lipscomb fell seriously ill and was unable to write for the Gospel Advocate. When he returned to writing in 1910 he had much to say as he approached his 80th year of life.

What is Most Important To Him.  In the first issue of 1910, Lipscomb summarized his primary interest in continuing his writing.  Here we get a glimpse of this man’s heart. Notice that for Lipscomb God’s actions are for the “race and world”–salvation belongs to humanity but also to creation!

But to God as the Creator, Preserver, Sympathizer with man, one soul is much. Else God had never clothed himself in human form and Jesus had never died. Christ’s mission, death, and sorrow for man were God in sympathy with and suffering for his creature, proclaiming his goodness, mercy, and love to a lost and sorrowful world. And all he aks of us now to repay his love and condescension to this race and world in ruin is to trust and follow him and show we appreciate his wisdom and love by trusting and obeying him. We must let him lead us….We have tried to understand the true relationship of man to God and have sought to so serve God and to teach others so to do. Our remaining days on earth cannot be many; our writings for the future must be few; our desire is that they shall be with increasing zeal in the way we have traveled, that God may bless us and we may lead others in the way of salvation.[1]

On Civil Government. When Lipscomb received an affirmation for his book entitled Civil Government, he offered the following comment on the book itself and the importance of the question it addresses. In the light of the last election and April 15th’s “tea parties” perhaps it is an opportune moment to hear Uncle Dave once again.

Were I to rewrite the book, I would change some of the arguments. I would modify the positions on some scriptures. A few points I would explain a little differently, and some passages that were left out altogether I would introduce. I would do this, not because I have abated my faith in the truth of the position one particle, but to make it conform in all respects to the truth. As a sample, one of the scriptures condemning Christians looking to the political government to settle difficulties and troubles is 1 Cor. 6:1-1; yet, as I remember, this passage is not noticed in the book. There is an application of the allusions to some of the political kingdoms of this world that I think not correct. But I have not abated or lost confidence in the least in the truthfulness of the position. I do not believe the church can ever be clean and holy with its members commingling in the political affairs of the world. It is probably that I have done wrong in failing to press the truth as I should have done. The difficulty of holding men up to the position, the readiness of those who professed to believe the truthfulness of the position to fly into an excitement and politically fury and do bitter denunciation because some election or some political movement did not suit them, all has had a tendency to discourage me, and I ceased to press it. I would rejoice to see brethren take hold of the subject and press it as a great issue on which the welfare of the church and of Christians depend. Christians will never be loyal and true to God while engaging in political strifes. [2]

The Making of Sectarians. He claims the disciples of Christ have tended to either join the sects (and thus become sectarian or one denomination among others as in the Disciples of Christ or Christian Church) or to exalt a particular text of Scripture (and thus create a new sect as in the case of the Rebaptists). In light of the latter, Lipscomb calls for preaching the whole of Scripture rather than focusing on a few texts (“textuary” preaching) which ultimately amounts to proof-texting. The kind of “text” preaching he dismisses here is not preaching from Scripture’s narrative (e.g., teaching a chapter of Scripture and plowing through a book) but focusing on a text to make a polemical point without hearing the flow of Scripture itself. Preaching and teaching is about conveying what the Bible says rather than “skinning the sects” (a favorite description of militant preaching in the Texas Tradition).

The preachers and teachers claim to know the gospel, but the knowledge is very much confined to the people to ‘be baptized for the remission of sins.’ Many at the protracted meeting are moved to this obedience; when this was done, they claimed they were saved, attended meetings no more, and ,of course, drifted into sin and rebellion against God—became practical infidels….There was and is ground for the charge of Mr. Ditzler that a “Campbellite’s Bible could be told, because it is worn and soiled at the second chapter of Acts and a few other passages, but not soiled in the other places”….When a man exalts one passage above of scripture above any other, he is in danger of become sectarian. The war against sectarians itself become sectarian. Man is weak and frail and liable to become a partisan or sectarian. Two parties of sects or sectarians spring up among those making war on sects or parties in religion. One, as the original fervor for the discovered truth cooled, fell in with the parties and sought to become one with the popular religious parties—a party among parties—and so to affiliate with the religious parties of the day and country. The other party magnified the truth discovered above all other truths and became a sect or party in behalf of this truth above all other parties and sects. The man who exalts and magnifies ‘for remission’ above other inducements and incentives to obedience laid down in the Scriptures makes himself a sectarian against or in opposition to sectarians. Into one of these two parties or sects the disciples have strong tendencies to go. But all sects or parties in religion are sinful. They exist in the providence of Gold to test and prove the faith of Christians and to show the fidelity of Christians to God and his word. …The textuary preaching is liable to lead into one-sided ideas of God’s will and should be carefully guarded….Our teaching from texts leads to the exaltation of our own theories and the ignoring of other scriptures. [3]

The Nashville Bible school has been in existence nineteen years. During these years the teachers have never taught a lesson showing what or how to preach, nor to defend a system or theory of doctrine. The come to the Bible in the spirit of learners, to learn and know what the Bible teaches….The majority of young preachers—and old ones, too—had rather be fixed up with a sermon or a series of sermons ‘to skin the sects’ than to be taught the great truths of the Bible. I favor no compromise of truth, but ‘skinning’ the sects and fighting them is well-calculated to make sectarians of us. Compromising with them makes us fellow-sects with them. [4]

 Women Teaching Men in Sunday Bible Classes? Yes!.  While Lipscomb opposed women teaching in “public” and in the assembly of the church, he thought they should be teaching at all other times. This included teaching Sunday Bible classes with men present.  He did not think that women who taught a Bible class with men were violating God’s limitations.

Philip’s daughters prophesied at home to Paul and his company. (Acts 21:8, 9.) Men and women are so universally addressed together as one and the same that it is rejecting the word of God to say women are not as much commanded to teach the Bible as men are. The only difference is, they are not permitted to teach at certain times and in cetain manners. Women may teach and be taught at home, at the houses of strangers, as they travel through the country, at the meeting for preaching; they may take an ignorant preacher to thmeslves and teach him ‘the way of the Lord more accurately.’…At the Sunday school the woman does nto usurp the place of a man in teaching all present. Only a few who wish to be taught or to teach attend. The woman does nto teach before all who are present. She take sher clas, old or young, to themselves and teaches them. I never saw it otherwise. In this course they obey the command given to teach the word of God to the people and to avoid the things prohibited to women as teachers and leaders of the men….Suppose a number of men, women, or children, or all combined, were willing to study the bible, and a woman was the best teacher they could find, and they were to meet at her house to get her help, and she was to teach them in studying the Bible; would she do wrong in helping them?…Suppose it was more convenient to meet at the meetinghouse and study the Bible at an hour not used for the regular church meetings, would this be sin? What makes it a sin to meet at the meetinghouse to study the word of God? [5]

Imperfect Obedience. Lipscomb stressed obedience to God’s requirements about as much as anyone could. Obedience was a core value for him and specifically doing exactly what God required, nothing more and nothing less. Nevertheless, he recognized that human beings understand God’s requirements imperfectly, obey imperfectly and that God is is merciful. I have assembled below a few examples below.

When asked about assurance….: “We must strive to walk in the steps of Jesus and so grow into the likeness of God. But with our best efforts to serve God, we will often fall short of doing his will. We are human. And never a day passes that a man can say: “This day I have done my whole duty.” We fall short; we make wrong steps; we are frail and imperfect. When we have done the best we can, we must be saved by the mercy and love of God. His grace is sufficient for us, but we never reach the point that we do not need his grace to save us….It was a blessing thing for humanity hat Jesus gave the example of the two men that went up into the temple to pray,’ and the assurance that the publican, who stood afar off, and ‘would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote his breast, saying, God, be though merciful to me a sinner,” “went down to his house justified rather than the other”—the self-righteous, self-sufficient Pharisee, who felt that he possessed all the virtues. God’s grace is revealed to our faith as sufficient to have all who continually strive to serve God, to do his will despite the weaknesses and frailties of humanity that cause men to fall short of a perfect obedience. What God requires is to be like Jesus in having no will of our own, but a constant, earnest desire to do just what God requires.” [6]

When asked whether a formal confession was necessary before baptism…: When a man openly confesses Christ by putting him on before the world, to rebaptize him because he had not confessed Christ is to make a mockery of the service. It shows a low idea and conception of God. It represents God as anxious to condemn a man and watching for an opportunity or excuse to condemn him. I have never known a man or a woman to be baptized that did not in that act declare faith in Jesus as the Christ. The apostles tell us of only one case that required rebaptism. Then they were not baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. To be rebaptized on light grounds brings reproach on the Bible. [7]

When asked about rebaptism….: Imperfect beings never perfectly understand anything. Imperfect beings never do anything perfectly. This is a contradiction. The spirit in which one should come to Christ is that of a little child, knowing but little, but trusting in God, and glad in his ignorance and helplessness to follow God and do what God desires him to do, and because God desires it. “Ye are my friends, if ye do the things I command you.” A better motive to do than because God commanded it never moved a man. [8]

God saves through imperfect obedience? For some that is heresy; for some it opens too many doors.  For me, I don’t see any other option and I am grateful for God’s mercy and grace.

Footnotes:

[1] David Lipscomb, “Another Year,” Gospel Advocate 52 (6 January 1910) 13.

[2] David Lipscomb, “The Christian’s Relation to Worldly Government,” Gospel Advocate 52 (10 March 1910) 294.

[3] David Lipscomb, “The Rule of Faith,” Gospel Advocate 52 (9 June 1910) 688.

[4] David Lipscomb, “Bible Schools,” Gospel Advocate 52 (16 June 1910) 712-3.

[5] David Lipscomb, “Should Women Teach?” Gospel Advocate 52 (25 August 1910) 968-9.

[6] David Lipscomb, “Assurance of Pardon,” Gospel Advocate 52 (27 October 1910) 1184-5.

[7] David Lipscomb, “The Confession,” Gospel Advocate 52 (1 December 1910) 1337.

[8] David Lipscomb, “Query Department,” Gospel Advocate 52 (6 October 1910) 1109.

Patternism, Division and Grace

Patternism does not entail division as long as it does not subvert grace and it graciously treats another believer with mercy. Rather, it is the attitudes, agendas and acidity of the people involved that generate division. Patternism itself is not to blame and neither is “restorationism’s” search for a pattern. When people are treated with gracious humility, patternism can be a fruitful discussion rather than an occasion of division. This is what Alexander Campbell intended from the beginning (though Campbell himself was not always the most humble of types ).

Ecclesiological Perfectionism Rejected.

Alexander Campbell certainly contended for an “ancient order” within the New Testament which he believed should be restored. Indeed, his good Presbyterian upbringing predisposed him to the idea of “order” and he continued to promote the notion of “church order” throughout his life (see his 1835 Millennial Harbinger Extra on Church Order).

However, as I pointed out in an earlier post, Campbell never intended his “ancient order” to function as the marks of a true church with the result that every other church which did not measure up to the “order” for which he contended was apostate. He explicitly denied that his conception of the “ancient order” should be used as a test of fellowship. He did, however, hope that it would be a platform for unity and strongly argued his case on the points at issue in hopes that others would adopt the “ancient order.”

So, Why the Divide?

That is a complicated and multi-faceted question. My interest in this post is very specific while I recognize the larger sociological, hermeneutical, sectional and theological differences that were involved in the division between Churches of Christ and the Disciples of Christ symbolically recognized in 1906 by the United States religious census.

I want to narrow my concern to David Lipscomb in particular. Reading through Lipscomb’s editorials in the 20th century, I was fascinated that Lipscomb consistently refers to the weaknesses and frailities of human beings in their seeking God. He applies this at many levels, but one application is ecclesiological.

Lipscomb was willing to forebear with congregation after congregation that disagreed with him on the missionary society and instrumental music. He spent most of his life in forebearance. He was one of the last to adopt a separatistic stance toward the Disciples of Christ (Christian Church). It was, in many ways, a thirty-plus year trek. He recognized it by 1897, declared it so in 1907, and lamented it for the rest of his life.

At one level, the division was necessary–according to Lipscomb–because some prominent Disciples embraced higher criticism, doubts about the deity of Jesus, etc. (e.g., the seeds and fruits of modernism). This was significant as it evidenced, in Lipscomb’s mind, a different spirit and attitude toward Scripture itself. It was not merely a different understanding of how to apply Scripture but more importantly a denial of Scripture as the word of God.

At another level, the division was necessary–according to Lipscomb–because the “innovations” disrupted the harmony of the church as a whole, split many congregations, and evidenced a lack of love for the minority, usually the weak and powerless, within a congregation. In other words, his problem with the innovators was more basic than the innovation itself. He could bear with the innovation in love–and could even preach in congregations that used it–but he could not bear with the unloving actions of the innovators toward the powerless. The strife they created and how they treated the powerless were more fatal than the innovation itself because it evidenced a spirit of arrogance, power and willfulness.

The situation of the Woodland Street Christian Church is illustrative. Lipscomb and E. G. Sewell planted this congregation and Lipscomb himself paid over $1000 for the bricking of the building in 1876. Sewell preached regularly for the church till 1882 and continued as one of its elders until 1890. By 1887 it was the center of Society activity in Nashville–organizing, convening, governing and hosting the State society convention and then the General Convention from 1889-1892. Lipscomb, Sewell, McQuiddy and others all experienced such boldness as a personal affront. Sometime before 1890 the instrument was introduced into the congregation. By 1899 Lispcomb had named Woodland Street as the most digressive of the churches in Tennessee. In October 1890, Sewell and the McQuiddys pulled out of Woodland and established the Tenth Street church in Nashville. (Some of this story is told in Chris Cotten’s paper delivered at the Disciples of Christ Historical Society in 2008.)

The hurt, strife and utter disbelief that Christians could treat each other in such a way fueled Lipscomb’s loss of patience with the Disciples of Christ (Christian Church). Ultimately, the emotional baggage was as significant as the theological, and the emotional hurt validated the perception that the Disciples of Christ (considered as a whole) acted in selfish, presumptive and unloving ways. Lipscomb had no patience for an arrogant, unloving spirit that abused the powerless. This is the real problem among the Disciples of Christ as he perceived it. As mistakes and failures of interpetation, innovations could be tolerated. But when they became the source of division and revealed the arrogance of the powerful (or majority), then the innovations were symptoms of a deeper problem.

Unlike Leroy Garrett who says that Lipscomb changed his mind about whether innovations should divide (The Stone-Campbell Movement, p. 401), I think it is better to say that Lipscomb came to believe that innovations were used to divide churches and it is this arrogant and power-seeking spirit that generated Lipscomb’s new attidue in the 1890s.

Grace in Sanctification.

Lipscomb had great patience and grace for the weak and struggling as long as they displayed an earnest desire to serve God and be obedient in everything they knew and could. He would even bear with the innovators as long as they were not divisive. One cannot read his editorials toward the close of his life without getting a deep sense of his love for the weak, his patience with their frailities, and his genuine desire to bear with them as they matured and grew in Christ.

Lipscomb often drew extended lessons from Jesus’ relationship with his disciples–both before and after his ministry among them. In the quotation offered below he focused on the experience of Jesus with his disciples at the Last Supper. Hear his call for mercy, patience and humility. It is, in my opinion, a stirring call for mutual forebearance–in this case between Rebaptists and disciples, and between Baptists and disciples (Lipscomb, “Jesus Christ and the Rebaptists,” Gospel Advocate 54 [11 January 1912] 45, 49).

This was a heroic band of worshipers to introduce the Lord’s Supper and the salvation of the world, was it not, especially when the leading one, Peter, is instructed, when he is convertred, to strengthen the rest…This shows the forebearance of Jesus with the sinner in his weakness and infirmity and his disposition to bear with and help the weak and needy. How many Christians now would be willing to bear with and partake of the Supper with a band they believed would be so offended (led into sin) that in a few hours all would forsake Jesus and deny they knew him? Christians ought to study the life and teachings of Jesus and from these learn meekness and forbearance with the tempted and tried. We ought to be meek and gentle as Jesus as. We ought to be longsuffering with the frail and erring and should strive to exercise forebearance and helpfulness toward those who go wrong. Jesus is our Savior and our Redeemer and seeks to help and save the lost.

The sin of Judas was from a lack of moral principle, a true regard for truth and justice. From this sin there seemed to be no recovery….The other disciples were honest and sincere, but failed through fear and the weakness of humanity. They recovered as soon as the threatening danger passed. But the human weakness remained, and Jesus dealt with the decision, but kindness and gentleness, of the Son of God and Savior of men. He drew the declaration of Peter’s love and devotion from him three times, as often as he had denied him, ending with the admonition to teach his brethren when he was converted…..

The example is not very flattering to humanity, but one that very strongly commends to us the love and condescension of God. It invites us to love and humility, condescension and helpfulness, to the poverty and needs of humanity. Let us look with kindness and pity on human mistakes and infirmities and bless and help as we need help and blessing. The forbearing, humble, helpful spirit that leads us to help the weak, forbear with the ignorant, and lend an uplifting and helping hand to every child of mortality is as much a part, and a vital part, of the religion of Jesus as the belief of any proposition or truth connected with that religion. Man is much more intolerant and ready to condemn and repel the children of men from the helps and privileges of gospel truth than God is. Let one take the mental and moral condition of those who partook of the first Supper under the direction of Jesus and compare them with the intelligence and standing of those they reject and repel, and he must feel the inconsistency. Our mission and work is to bury and hide shortcoming and imperfections in faith and life, and, while teaching the will of God as he gave it, to encourage the weakest and most feeble to walk in his ways as he has given it and as far as they understand it. The work of Jesus in the ordination of the Supper is often as much violated and set as naught as the rights of those who believe baptism is for the remission of sins. Let us cherish and walk in the spirit of Christ. Both Baptists and many disciples are sinful in their exclusiveness in religion.

Where Are We Today?

To use the terminology in vogue at Graceconversation.com, “progressives” and “conservatives” need a spirit of love, humility and selflessness in our dialogue at the congregational, institutional and virtual levels.

It seems to me that if we apply the theological notion of “grace in sanctification” toward each other, it would enable us to treat each other out of a disposition of weakness and humility. When we recognize that we are all engaged in the process of sanctification, that we are all imperfect, and that none of us has arrived theologically or ethically, then we can dialogue in a spirit of discovery and mutual understanding rather than condemnation and alienation. When we approach each other within the framework of sanctification, we may further the dialogue by hearing each other in order to learn rather than critique, to understand rather than condemn, and to appreciate rather than ridicule. When we season our words with grace rather than sarcasm we open the door to mutual understanding and mutual appreciation.

It very well may be that God is more concerned about how we dialogue and treat each other than he is with exactly where we differ. I do think God is concerned about both, but how we relate to others is what will image or fall short of God’s own relating to us with mercy and grace. Jesus’ patience with his own imperfect disciples and his anger toward the arrogant should give us all pause in our discussions. Whom are we more like? Humble disciples or arrogant religionists?

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.” Matthew 5:7

“Mercy triumphs over judgment.” James 2:13b

“To the merciful you show yourself merciful.” Psalm 18:25

Children and the Kingdom of God

What disciple of Jesus would ever want to hinder children from coming to Jesus? I doubt if anyone would want to do that though the disciples, in the circumstance described in the Synoptic Gospels, did. Perhaps they were protecting a fatigued Jesus from the onslaught of the chaos of playful children….maybe that is what they thought. Who really knows? When Jesus rebuked them they must have cowered in their own embarrassment. I know I would have.

“Now they were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them. And when the disciples saw it, they rebuked them. But Jesus called them to him, saying, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” Luke 18:15-17 (cf. Mark 10:13-15; Matthew 19:13-14)

In line with my previous post, I want to suggest that something profoundly relevant to the contemporary church is uttered in this saying of Jesus. He is not talking about baptizing children [his ministry did not baptize children] nor is it simply a pithy morality saying about childlike humility. Rather, it says something about the status of children in the faith community.

Jesus invites children to come to him because (gar) the kingdom of God belongs to them.

I think we need to stew on that sentence for a while and let it sink deep into our theological souls. What does it mean to say that the kingdom of God belongs to children? What does it mean to invite children to experience Jesus because (not “so that”!) the kingdom of God belongs to them?

It seems to me that Jesus recognizes that children are the sons and daughters of God, that is, they belong to the kingdom of God. Jesus touches them, holds them and shares his love with them because children live and breathe the air of the kingdom of God.

Unfortunately many use this text to theologize and moralize about how adults should not hinder their children’s path to Jesus. While there is certainly nothing wrong about that point–and the disciples did hinder children–I don’t think this is the theological substance of the text itself. The reason adults should not hinder children is because children already belong to the kingdom of God and adults need to become like children themselves in order to participate in God’s kingdom.

The theological point is that children are kingdom people too! They do not stand outside the kingdom of God as if they are “heathens” seeking admittance or “sinners” needing conversion. To the contrary, they already belong to the kingdom. Jesus embraces them, loves them and enjoys them.

I think this speaks volumes regarding a “theology of children” within the contemporary church, especially among churches that only practice adult baptism. Just like these parents, we lead our children to Jesus so that they fall in love with him just as he loves (and has already loved) them. But our children do not come to Jesus as outsiders. Our children are not “potential disciples” or “conversion prospects,” but rather they belong to the kingdom. I regard them as “maturing disciples” (see Greg Taylor and I discuss this in Down in the River to Pray, pp. 210-215). They are not “non-members of church,” but members of the kingdom.

Consequently, we invite our children to participate in the faith community as members of the kingdom. We lead them to Jesus in age appropriate ways, and we lead them to the table where they, too, may eat with Jesus. We do not treat them as “non-members,” but as disciples in training for adulthood, as catechumens who already belong to the kingdom of God.

Ultimately, we lead them to Jesus so that they may follow him and become his disciple as they own their own faith. When they are ready to commit to the way of the cross–to take up their own cross and follow Jesus–then they will follow him into the water that they might also take up his mission as their own. Following Jesus into the water they own their own faith and affirm their kingdom allegiance.

Arminius–Review of a Recent Book

Given some recent comments, I thought I would share my review of a recent book that will soon appear in Restoration Quarterly. The author, Keith Stanglin, is a friend and former student (indeed, he was my Graduate Assistant for several years) at Harding University Graduate School of Religion. He now teaches at Harding University in Searcy, AR, after receiving his Ph.D. in historical theology at Calvin Theological Seminary (2006). Those interested in the Calvinism/Arminianism discussion might be interested to see his syllabus on that topic which has a significant number of helpful reading assignments and bibliography.

Keith D. Stanglin. Arminius on the Assurance of Salvation: The Context, Roots, and Shape of the Leiden Debate, 1603-1609. Brill’s Series in Church History, Volume 27. Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2007. 285 pages.  Price? Don’t ask. 

2009 is the 400th anniversary of the death of Jacobus Arminius. While many have identified themselves as “Arminian” since his death, few have pursued scholarly and technical examinations of Arminius’ context and theology. Keith Stanglin’s thorough and substantive analysis is a welcome reprieve from cursory and superficial conversations about “Arminianism.” Indeed, this is the first monograph wholly focused on Arminius’ soteriology with special reference to its epistemology (how do I know I am saved?).

Based on his dissertation at Calvin Theological Seminary, Stanglin—who is Assistant Professor of Historical Theology at Harding University—makes several significant contributions to the study of Arminius. He contextualizes Arminius’ theology in the framework of Reformed theology and the debates that consumed his Leiden professorship from 1603-1609. This contextualization includes a comparison with the soteriology of Arminius’ contemporaries (e.g., William Perkins, Franciscus Gomarus). Further, he utilizes Arminius’ full Latin corpus, including unpublished Leiden disputations, as the basis for his analysis. This enables Stanglin to interpret Arminius’ soteriology in the specific context of his Leiden controversies. This has a significant impact on how one reads and understands this oft misunderstood Dutch theologian.

Stanglin argues that Arminius, despite his detractors, proposed a doctrine of assurance that was suited to the pastoral needs of believers. Arminius’ understanding of election is conceived in such a way that it preserves the love of God as the fundamental ground of the believer’s assurance. On this basis he rejected both unconditional election and irresistible grace, which are the primary soteriological differences between Arminius and Gomarus. Since faith is a “resistible gift, then defection from faith also may happen by free choice” (p. 141). According to Stanglin, apostasy was possible in Arminius’ soteriology.

Given the possibility of apostasy, what does assurance mean to Arminius? This is the major burden of the book and Stanglin rigorously explores Arminius’ “epistemology of salvation” (pp. 143-235). Assurance, for Arminius, is fiducia (a trusting tranquility that rests in God’s love for us) that avoids the twin pitfalls of desperatio (despair) and securitas (from sine cura, meaning, without care or careless; a kind of presumption). Arminius’ pastoral experience in Amsterdam from 1588-1603 alerted him to these dangers. He witnessed some despair as they suffered from the plague but also saw others arrogantly presume their election. While his contemporaries agreed with his concern about disperatio, Arminius “was a lonely voice in the struggle against securitas” (p. 152).

Stanglin demonstrates that securitas was usually understood as a negative quality arising from pride (e.g., Augustine and Luther). While Calvin used securitas and fiducia interchangeably (loosening the securitas from its historic moorings), he hinged securitas on the attitude of “godly fear” and distinguished between “simple security” and “carnal security” (pp. 163-4). Stanglin argues that early Reformed Orthodoxy (e.g., Gomarus) equated fiducia and securitas while Arminius wanted to preserve the historic caution against securitas as the fruit of pride. This did not undermine certainty (certitudo) but it did exclude presumption (praesumptio). Unfortunately, for Arminius, his assault on presumption took place at the moment when securitas had become a “new normal” for the Reformed understanding of assurance (p. 175). While characterizing securitas negatively, Arminius did affirm that fiducia yields assurance and certainty.

Interestingly, it is precisely because Arminius wants to avoid despair and presumption that he opposes unconditional election. On the one hand, Reformed soteriology may produce despair because ultimately authentic faith is practically indistinguishable from “temporary” faith (p. 183) and the despair this creates is “focused” on the believers’ inability to discern whether they are included in “God’s immutable decree” (p. 187). On the other hand, Reformed soteriology may produce an unhealthy security that leads to presumption due to a lack of godly fear about salvation. Unconditional election provides no functional deliverance from these two hazards.

Precisely because he rejects unconditional election Arminius affirms that fides yields fiducia which yields certitudo. The evidence or testimony that yields this conclusion is both objective—which is primary—and subjective. The subjective includes faith, testimony of the Spirit, good works, and the struggle between the flesh and the Spirit, which does not differ from his Reformed contemporaries (p. 204). The difference comes in the objective. For the Reformed the objective is God’s eternal decree. For Arminius it is the love of God.

Significantly, Stanglin argues, “Arminus views God’s love of humanity as something more than mere means (uti) towards the goal of his own glory (which is Reformed supralapsarianism, JMH), but as approaching enjoyment (frui), the beatitude of the creature as the end that God enjoys” (p. 220). In other words, the goal of God’s love is not his own glory as if God is egocentric but rather enjoying the communion of his creation. This is the fundamental ground of assurance—all believers know they are beloved. This belovedness, which Reformed believers cannot know absolutely since they cannot see into the divine decree, yields a present certainty without despair or presumption.

Stanglin has effectively and persuasively argued that assurance was not only significant for Arminius but it was his “principal” soteriological concern (p. 243). It was because the Reformed doctrine of predestination could not provide a “healthy doctrine of assurance” that Arminius dissented from the Reformed Orthodoxy of his colleagues. Assurance, then, was “both the point of departure and the conclusive goal of his system” (p. 244).

This is a significant book. It is one of only a few critical and substantial treatments of Arminius available. We can only hope that it will encourage others to follow Stanglin’s lead.

Theology in Outline (SBD 1)

Next week I will begin teaching a three week Maymester class at Lipscomb University.  The undergradaute course is entitled “Systematic  Biblical Doctrine.”  I don’t much like the title–as I will explain later, but it is a course where I introduce students to a narrative reading of theology for the sake of the church.  Over the next few weeks I hope to share on my blog something of what I share with them which is a primer course in Christian theology. 

Below is the basic outline I use in both my undergraduate and graduate systematic theology courses. I constantly debate with myself whether I should embed the hermeneutical and methodological assumptions into the narrative itself or address them as prolegomena.  I think I prefer speaking of them within the story; for example, discussing the nature/function of Scripture as part of the story of Israel and Church. But there is value in laying out my assumptions at the beginning and orienting students to the journey we will take together.

The outline includes some “focus” texts, narrates theology in the light of redemptive history (Creation to Eschaton–my six “Cs”), and summarizes key moments within the story by brief declarative statements.  My intent in the course is to unpack those statements as part of the narrative of God’s active, redemptive and loving pursuit of humanity and his creation. We are called to participate in that pursuit–both in response to God’s own initiative and as partners with God in his work.

Here is the brief outline.  I hope it whets your appetite for a bit of theology over the next three weeks. 

 

Participating in God’s Story:
A Narrative Reading of Theology for the Church

Living within the Story: Hermeneutical and Methodological Assumptions.

Texts: Titus; Acts 17; Romans 1; 2 Timothy 3:13-4:2; 2 Peter 1:20-21; Ephesians 3:1-6

1. The task of theology is to guide the people of God in their journey as divine imagers who mirror God’s own life and community.

2. The resources of theological reflection are Scripture (the norming norm), creation (general revelation and history) and experience (communal [tradition] and personal [existential]).

I. Creation: The Beginning of God’s Story with Us.

Texts: Genesis 1-2; Psalms 8, 104; Isaiah 44:24-28; 45:18-19; John 17:20-26

3. The divine community seeks communion with the created community and rejoices over creation.

4. God partners with humanity as divine representatives within the shalom-filled creation.

II. Crisis: The Emergence of a Rival Story

Texts: Genesis 3-11; Psalm 10; Romans 1:18-3:20

5. Humanity degenerates through a series of crises.

III. Covenant: God’s Redemptive Pursuit in the Story.

Texts: Genesis 12; Deuteronomy 4-6; Psalms 105-107; Isaiah 42:5-9;  Hosea 1-3, 11; Nehemiah 9; Matthew 23:37-39; Romans 9-11

6. God acts for the nations by creating Israel through which the holy love and redemptive intent of God are revealed.

7. God acts among the nations to shape Israel into a redemptive community that images God as a light to the nations.

IV. Christ: The Presence of the Future within the Story.

Texts: Isaiah 9:1-8; John 1:1-18; Matthew 4:12-25; Luke 4:14-30; Mark 10:35-45; Luke 24; 1 Corinthians 15:20-28, 44-49; Ephesians 1:3-14.

8. God, the Logos, becomes incarnate in order to bring light into the darkness as the Father’s Elect One.

9. The ministry of Jesus is the inbreaking of the future by the already present kingdom of God that culminates in his eschatological death and resurrection.

V. Church: A Spirit-Filled Community as Ongoing Story.

Texts: Acts 2:14-47; Galatians 3:26-4:7; 1 Corinthians 10:1-13; 1 Corinthians 12:12-31; 1 Peter 3:8-4:11; Romans 6-8.

10. God, through the ascended reigning Christ, pours out the Spirit upon the believing community (church) for communion, transformation and empowerment.

11. The church is a community of redeemed humanity (salvation as past experience–Baptism).

12. The church is a community of transformed humanity (salvation as present experience–Table ).

13. The Spirit is at work to redeem and transform all creation through the church (missional ministry).

VI. Consummation: The End as New Beginning for the Story.

Texts: Isaiah 65:17-25; Romans 8:18-27; Revelation 21-22

14. God has always moved his story toward a cosmic goal (salvation as future experience).

Calvinists, Arminians and Assurance

In my previous post I summarized the conclusions of Keith Stanglin in his recent book Arminius on the Assurance of Salvation: The Context, Roots, and Shape of the Leiden Debate, 1603-1609. In this post, I want to offer an extended theological comment on the nature of assurance for Calvinists and Arminians. I will indulge this for one post before I move on to more personal concerns next week with the anniversary of my first wife’s death on the horizon (April 30). Your comments–even disagreements (surely there will be none, however )–are welcome.

My basic opinion is that in practice Calvinists and Arminians experience assurance by the same means. At one level they both claim the same objective grounds–the promise, love, mercy and grace of God (that is, that Christ died for us) and they claim the same basic subjective evidences–faith, fruit of sanctification, religious experience, etc (that is, the work of the Spirit in the believer).  The epistemology of present assurance (how do I know I am saved?) is answered with the same kinds of words, expressions and evidences. At root, both Calvinists and Arminians are assured by grace through faith.

It seems to me that this is an arena in which Calvinists and Arminians can acknowledge common ground. It is in the theory that they differ–and theories that often operate at inferential levels rather than with the plain statements of Scripture. I would rather we speak of assurance through faith than drawing out inferences to “make sense” of that assurance in the light of our theories. But, alas, our historical situation does not permit–so it seems–a unity at the pragmatic level of faith but we feel the incessant need to debate the theories as well. Nevertheless, this is where I tend to concentrate my thought and practice.

But–to speak of theories –my further opinion is that Arminians have a better theological ground for assurance than Calvinists. Or, perhaps to put it another way, Calvinists–in my opinion–obscure their assurance with a speculative doctrine of election that entails a postulate of “temporary faith” (Jean Calvin, Institutes 3.2.11; comment on Matthew 13:20 in his Harmony of the Evangelists). This notion salvages the Reformed doctrine of election from shipwreck on the rocks of those who lose their faith (a reality that we know from both Scripture and experience). It seems necessary to Calvinists–given the doctrine of election–to postulate that those who lose their faith never had authentic faith in the first place.  And, in fact, there are some people who apparently never really did have faith (cf. 1 John 2), but that does not mean that everyone who loses faith never had authentic faith unless we are protecting, as in Reformed theology, a particular understanding of the doctrine of election or seeking to harmonize that reality with a particular interpretation of a text.

That is fine as far as a logical move to seek harmony among various texts of Scripture. But the problem becomes how is one sure whether they have “temporary faith” or have “authentic faith”? Those who have temporary faith believe they have authentic faith–they can’t see a difference. For example, I remember a conversation with a friend at Westminster about a mutual friend who had lost their faith. My friend thought it was an example of “temporary faith” (or temporary loss that would later appear again in perseverance) but it puzzled me that our mutual friend when he believed really thought he did believe. By all appearances and, according to his own confession (unless he was dishonest), he fully embraced the gospel in heart and soul.

How can those who have authentic faith know their faith is authentic when those who have temporary faith think they have authentic faith? It is in this context that the doctrine of election is controlling how we think about assurance and faith. It introduces a reason for doubt in the minds of believers. And this is not a doubt about the subjective evidences of their faith, but a theological doubt  rooted in a theological theory that undercuts the objective ground of assurance itself. Because, if they have “temporary faith,” then God does not really love them, that is, he has not chosen (elected) them.

It seems to me better ground to say that God loves all, seeks the salvation of all, and that no one should doubt that Christ died for them and that God desires their salvation. Faith is trusting the love of God in Christ and knowing, by God’s own declaration, that Christ died for all and that God has salvific intent for me. I don’t have to know whether I am one of the elect to trust the word of God that Christ died for me, but rather through faith in God’s work for me in Christ I know that I am one of the elect. And I don’t have to wonder whether I am one of those who will eventually “go out” because I never really was one of the faithful. Instead, through faith I know I am one for whom Christ died and there is no necessity to entertain a theological doubt about “temporary faith.”

Now I believe Calvinists can mitigate this idea of “temporary faith” with Calvin’s own notion that the assurance of salvation is the assurance of election. But this places the mode of assurance in the same frame as Arminians themselves. We know our election through our present faith in Christ and not the reverse. Consequently, it seems to me that however one views election it does not have a telling effect on one’s assurance unless one places the doubt of “temporary faith” in the mind of the believer in order to protect a doctrine of election.

Assurance is faith in Christ; united with Christ we are assured our of salvation and we are united to him through faith. Here Calvinist and Arminian can stand on common ground with common faith: we are both saved by grace through faith. Even though I think Arminianism holds a better theory of assurance than Calvinism, I readily acknowledge that both access assurance by the same means: trust in the work of God for us and bearing the fruit of the Spirit’s work in our lives.

But I am an Arminian–as much as I can use categories of myself (in my opinion one who says they are neither or they transcend the discussion doesn’t really understand Arminianism or Calvinism–but that is just my opinion ). Consequently, according to my “theory,” I believe my present faith assures me because I know Christ died for me whereas the present faith of Calvinists logically wonders whether their experience of faith is actually temporary faith which contains no assurance that Christ died for them.  So, in that sense, I know that Christ died for me and through present faith I experience his love, but Calvinists are potentially uncertain whether Christ died for them because ultimately they do not know whether their faith is temporary or not until it perseveres to the end. Only in the perseverance of faith are Calvinists assured. And only through present faith and its perseverance are Arminians assured.  The two stand, pragmatically, on the same ground–we are saved by grace through faith.

Providence, Death and Grief

On April 30, 1980, Sheila Pettit Hicks, my wife of two years, eleven months, and eight days, died twenty days after recovering from back surgery. A blood clot stopped her heart while she slept at her parent’s home in Ellijay, GA.  This week is the 29th anniversary of that horrendous moment in my life. It shifted my life in unimaginable ways for me. Sometimes I still wonder about what would have been.

Less than a year after the event, when I was twenty-three, I wrote two articles for the Gospel Advocate in reflection on my experience. My articles are rather detached, highly theological, filled with suspect language (e.g., “proper” or “properly”) and a bit presumptuous. I have provided the text below of the two articles.  In the next few days I will comment on them in light of my present perspectives.

“Divine Providence and Human Lives (1),” Gospel Advocate 123.8 (April 16, 1981), 239, 244.

Divine providence is a difficult and seemingly elusive subject. Yet it is one which has loomed very important in my life this past year. On April 30, 1980 my wife of almost three years died at the age of 25. Since that time I have pondered the question of God’s control over human lives and the role he plays in our lives (deaths). My reaction to Sheila’s death was not to question whether or not God existed (as some agnostic might), but to question why God would permit such a thing. I want to share with you some of my thoughts concerning the role of providence in our lives. This article will set forth the broad outlines of providence and a second will illustrate how a proper understanding of providence helps the bereaved to overcome their grief.

The subject of providence has been complicated by two factors. First, some confuse the difference between miracles and providence. Both are acts of God, but they are effected through different means. A miracle suspends or supercedes the “laws of nature” while providence is God’s working through nature. The parting of the Red Sea was a miracle while our daily provision of food is providence, but both equally the work of God. Second, some either give no place to God in their affairs (as the Deists of the 18th century) or are idly expecting God to make all their choices for them. God does not wind up the world like a clock and sit back to watch it run down nor does he force choices upon the wills of men. Somewhere between these two extremes lies the Biblical concept of providence.

We may properly divide providence into three areas. First, God continually sustains the created natural order. Psalm 104 praises God for his work in nature. The Psalmist proclaims that rain (v. 13), the growth of grass (v. 14), food for the lions (v. 21) and the breath of animals (v. 29) are acts of God. If God removed his sustaining hand, all of nature would collapse. (Cf. Psalm 148:8; Colossians 1:17; Hebrews 1:3.) Second, God controls the nations of the world for his purposes. (Proverbs 21:1; Isaiah 10:5-19.) Daniel attributes the rise and fall of Kings to God himself. (Daniel 2:21; 4:25.) Thus, we are to pray for peace among nations and for our leaders because God can answer those petitions. (1 Timothy 2:1, 2.) He can answer such prayers because he is in providential control of the nations. (In the book of Revelation God answers prayers of the saints with the destruction of Rome, 8:3-5; 9:13.) Third, God oversees the lives of individuals (Proverbs 20:24.), especially the lives of the righteous. What God does in nature and among the nations affects both the just and the unjust (Matthew 5:45), but God has a special care for his own people (Psalm 37:25). It is this last aspect upon which I wish to concentrate. The basic affirmation of divine providence is simply this: God is in control!

How does God providentially direct the steps of the righteous? To answer this question it is important to draw a distinction between the choices and the circumstances of life. Every day we are presented with a limited number of choices. It is the circumstances of our life which present to us the options of choice. This distinction is important because God does not force us to make this or that choice, but he does constantly control the circumstances of our life (that is, the choices that we do have). If God were not in control of our options from which we can choose, then the promise of 1 Corinthians 10:13 carries no weight. God so controls our life circumstances that he does not permit Satan to tempt us beyond our ability. God does, however, permit us to be tempted with what we are able to hear much like Adam in the garden.

It disturbs me to hear Christians talk of the “accidental” or “chance” circumstances of their lives. Supposedly these are areas of “luck” over which God has little or no control. If this is true, prayer is in great peril. Perhaps when we receive what we think is a negative answer to a prayer, it is really no answer at all since the answer to the prayer lies beyond God’s ability or control. This is patently false. Prayer presupposes that God is in control of the circumstances of our life and that he can answer “yes” even though in his wisdom he may answer “no” occasionally. Sheila and I prayed that her surgery would be successful, but it was not. Am I to think that her death fell outside of the control of God, that it was the result of chance? Certainly not, since if it were true, this would render all prayer for the sick ineffective. (Contrast James 5:14-18.) In fact, herein lies the answer to grief: accept God’s providential control and wisdom.

Certainly, therefore, God works in our lives by controlling the circumstances of our choices. Are we, then, to attribute everything in our lives (even death itself) to the causative working of God? To answer this question we must make another distinction. Theologians have historically recognized two aspects of the working out of God’s will. One is passive, called the permissive will and the other is active, called the causative will. In the former, God merely permits (he does not directly cause) certain circumstances. For instance, God permitted Job to suffer the death of his children, servants and livestock (Job 1:13-22) though he was not tempted beyond what he could bear. God also permitted the Romans to kill Christians though he did not directly cause the death of those saints. (Revelation 13:7, 15). However, there are some things which God does providentially cause in a direct manner (not miraculously, however). God restored Job’s possessions to him (Job 42:12) and he avenged the blood of the Christian martyrs (Revelation 19:2). Thus, whatever circumstances face us in life (whether death, temptation, illness, etc.) it must be the result of God’s permissive or causative will. It must be either since everything falls under God’s providence. But we are in no position, at least in this life, to judge whether each circumstance is the result of God’s permissive or causative will.

Our lives should be built on the assurance that God is in control of everything having a bearing on the circumstances of our lives. We can take comfort, hope and joy in the fact that God knows what he is doing and is able to do it. Herein lies our help in times of need, trial and temptation. In another article, I will attempt to apply this concept of divine providence to those situations we often consider “evil.”

“Divine Providence and Human Lives (II),” Gospel Advocate 123.9 (May 7, 1981), 261, 277.

The basic affirmation of divine providence is this: God is in control! This means that no matter what happens in the circumstances of our life (not those which result directly from human choices), we must always see the hand of God in what is done. Whatever happens, God is always at work either permissively or causatively. This is easy to acknowledge (though we often fail to) when our life is filled with pleasant events. James 1:17 teaches that “every good gift and every perfect gift is form above.” Solomon points out that God sheds special blessings on the righteous whereas he does the opposite for the wicked. (Proverbs 10:3-16, 27-30; cf. Psalm 16:1-6.) Thus, we ought always to be thankful for the many divine blessings we have.

However, when trouble befalls us, it is more difficult (seemingly impossible) to see the hand of God in our lives. Yet, Proverbs 16:33 reads: “The lot is cast into the lap; but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord.” Another version renders that last phrase this way: “But its every decision is from the Lord.” Whether the lot turns up blessing or trouble, the lot is the result of God’s working. God has either permitted or caused this trouble in our lives. Why did he do it? Perhaps we may be able to answer that question in retrospect or maybe we will never be able to answer it in this life, but more important than speculating on the reason for God’s act is how we are going to cope with this trouble. For weeks after the death of my wife, I continually asked “Why?” It was futile to even attempt to answer that question at that time. (I cannot even answer it now nor do I expect to be able to answer it any time soon.) Instead, I learned to deal with my pain rather than speculating about the “whys” and “wherefores.” In particular, three principles of providence helped me to deal with my wife’s passing (and these principles, I think, are helpful in all kinds of turbulent times).

First, we must trust God’s providential control. Psalm 13 is one that is now close to my heart. The first four verses sustain a continual questioning of God, “How long will thou forget me, O Lord?…How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily?” Certainly as we all experience times of trial we question God and even complain to him. It seems that we have a thousand questions but no answers. David had that same sort of feeling, but his answer was to trust God. Psalm 13:5, 6 reads: “But I have trusted in thy mercy; my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation. I will sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt bountifully with me.” Faith puts an end to the questions of doubt. We recognize the providence and control of God and we trust his will. Do we really trust his wisdom in these matters? We may not have the answers, but we know that the Lord does as he is in control of the universe. We must learn to trust him and that is no easy thing to learn in the midst of a personal crisis. Those who wish to help, impress us with the all-embracing nature of God’s control and his continual loving care for us.
Second, we must maintain a proper perspective throughout the crisis. The writer of Hebrews was expecting his readers to undergo some severe trials of faith very soon. Thus, in Hebrews 12 he instructs them concerning how to cope with these persecutions and trials. They were to treat their troubles as God’s fatherly discipline. The writer compares earthly chastenings with God’s heavenly discipline (vv. 10-11).

For they verily for a few days chastened us after their own pleasure; but he for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness. Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievious: nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby.

A good summary of this section is “pain for our own good.” Though it hurts to suffer the death of a loved one, God can (and does) use that experience for our profit. Through pain we come to understand, appreciate and obtain peace. Thus, every crisis ought to be seen from the perspective of discipline. This does not mean that God is punishing us (as if God was punishing me through Sheilas’s death), but simply that God refines and matures us through fire (cf. 1 Corinthians 3:13-15).

If we can see our way through the pain and hurt, there is actually a divine compliment in every trial. With every such circumstance God is saying in effect: “I know you can bear this burden and I will use it to strengthen you.” It is not so much a test of faith (though it is that), but an opportunity to strengthen our faith. Sheila was the first of her immediate family to die. Perhaps she died first because she would not have been able to bear the death of the others. Though that is speculation, it is certain that Gold knew I could (and her family could) bear the burden since he permitted it to happen, and God does not permit us to be tempted above our ability. (1 Corinthians 1o:13.) Since we are often tempted to think that God has forgotten us in our times of trial (Psalm 13:1-4), we must maintain our perspective—which is no easy task, and one with which we need help—and then we will not see God’s absence in our trouble, but his presence through discipline.

Third, we must remember the promises of God and that God is faithful to his promises. Proverbs 16:4 says that “The Lord had made all things for himself: yea, even the wicked for the day of evil.” Thus, God is able to work things out for our profit. This is the promise of Romans 8:28: “And we know that all things work together for good to them that have God, to them who are called according to his purpose.” Further, “if God be for us, who can be against us? He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?” (Romans 8:31b-33). The promise is not that nothing bad will ever happen to the righteous, but that whatever happens, God will work it for good. (How could God make such a promise if he is not in total control of our life circumstances?) We know he will since he even gave up his Son for us. If he would do that, then certainly he would do whatever else he could for us. God is on our side. He is working for us, not against us. It seems that the natural tendency in every trial is to think that God is somehow opposing us. But God is working for the righteous in every trial. God is able to take the most despairing of situations and turn them into something good. He is able and he has promised, and God keeps his promises. (Hebrews 6:11-19; 10:23.)

God’s providence renders every sorrow, every illness, and every burden bearable. We recognize his total control and rejoice in his promises. We trust him. With this thought I mind, I wish to end this article with a poem that we found in a book Sheila had been reading the night she went home. We found it her own hand-writing (but nowhere in the book). We think it is her own composition, but we are not sure. In any even, it gave her comfort in recovering from her surgery and it gave me comfort in dealing with her passing. It truly magnifies the providence of God in his sustaining work.

It is in times of calamity,
         in days and nights of sorrow and trouble
               that the presence,
                    the sufficiency
                         and the sympathy of God
  grow very sure and very wonderful.

Then we find out that the grace of God is sufficient,
        for all our needs,
              for every problem and
                   for every difficulty,
  for every broken heart and for every human sorrow.

Comment on “Providence, Death and Grief”

Yesterday I posted two articles by my hand from the 1981 Gospel Advocate. These were my first atttempts, at the age of twenty-three, to write (even publicly speak of) the loss of my wife in 1980.

Reading them again after so long–I don’t think I have read them or perhaps even thought of them in over ten years at least–was an enlightening but also painful experience. As I have thought about the personal, theological and spiritual shifts in my life during my twenties, I was not surprised to see some dimensions of my soul appear in these articles. My comments below are intersubjective and do not intend to address anyone who holds the views articulated in the articles; I am reflecting only on my own experience.

The articles have a distasteful air of triumphalism as I read them today. There are hints of arrogance which I see in the words “proper” or “properly.” I write as if I have it figured out; at least it appears that way to me, knowing my own journey and heart at the time. There is a presumptuousness that understanding providence enbales one to overcome grief.

As I look back on my twenty-three old soul, I give myself lots of grace. It was a soul burdened with grief, reeking with anger against God, and spiritually sick with rebellious feelings. But you didn’t hear that in the article, did you? Well, of course not. It could not be spoken; I would not have spoken it. It would not have been printed. I did not speak it to anyone. I was too ashamed of my feelings, too afraid of judgment by others, and too sick to truly know myself.

I was too much of the hero…playing the hero…to speak such things. I knew what I thought others expected of me, and what I expected from myself. I was supposed to be the hero. It had been my role for some time, and I did not know what to do with my feelings of anger and grief other than feel guilty about them. So, I stuffed them, put on my “theological” face and wrote two relatively detached articles about providence and human life.

I still substantially agree with the articles. I have a high view of sovereignty and trust is a way to healing. I don’t like the distinction between miracle and providence so much anymore, but would rather speak of God’s constant activity. 1 Corinthians 10:13 does not provide the comfort that it once did (or seemingly did in this article)–not sure what is going on with that (it does not “ring” true in my experience). I do believe that God is in control; and he lovingly rules his world for the sake of his people and his creation. While the idea of “divine compliment” seems appropriate, I don’t think of it so much as a “compliment” anymore. Perhaps it is a means by which God garners witnesses in his world to his love, grace and care, but “compliment” is not a healthy word for me now.

The articles leave the impression that I have won. I have overcome. I trust. And everything has settled down. But that is far from the truth. My life was a mess at that moment. I was pursuing my Ph.D. at Westminster, living alone in a one-room studio in Ambler, PA, and making some terrible personal choices. Those choices were the outworkings of my anger and rebellion. Even now shame and guilt surge forward when I think about it even though I know those moments are long forgiven and erased from the heart of God.

What the articles lack–and what I lacked in my life at that time–was a deep sense of lament. I had not learned to lament. I did not know what faithful lament was. I did not know I could be angry with God, even complain and question and doubt, and yet at the same time remain faithful and beloved. I did not learn that (as much as I could “learn” it then) till the summer of 1981 when a friend turned my attention to the Psalms and then Job.

My approach to Job in these articles is about faith and the divine compliment. I had not processed the material between Job 1-2 and Job 42; it was not part of my world. I only “theologized” about sovereignty, the trial of Job, the faith of Job (“Blessed be the name of the Lord”) and God’s “reward.” The laments, bitterness, complaint and horror of Job’s experience had not yet connected with my own. Job 3-41 was terra incognita.

My articles in 1981 are heroic and triumphalistic. They contain much that I still believe, but they are only true if balanced with Psalmist and Jobian laments. They are only true if we excise the arrogance and presumption. They are only true if we remove the detachment and place those truths in the world of lamenters–those who deely feel the injustice of life and the seeming abandonment by their God. Job and Psalms became my Bible after I discovered their laments.

But I give myself a break here (though I find that difficult to do at times). I did not know the laments; I had not experienced the laments of Scripture. I had not learned to pray Scripture. I did not know how to grieve, and in some ways I have only learned to truly grieve in the last year (if even now). I only knew how to project my heroism; and I played it well. I give myself credit for that.  :-)

So, as Don commented yesterday, we need the combination of learning (theology) and suffering. I only see theology in these articles, but I knew the suffering was present in my heart. Now I–and at points in the past I have to some degree–intend to “do” theology with the honesty of a suffering heart. That is part of what I have done on this blog in the past year.

That is what is lacking in those articles. I did not know how to do that then; I did not know what to do with it. The articles are good as far as they go, but they are too detached to resonate with hearts that are angry, grieving and abandoned.  Those articles did not tell the full story of my heart in 1981.

They need a significant dose of biblical lament. We all need that and let us not deny it to those who feel lament; let us give the hurting full opportunity to speak their hurt even if our ears burn and our theologies are offended.

Fearless and Free During Economic Storms I

Note: This is the first of six small group studies that are coordinated with a sermon series by Dean Barham who is the preaching minister at the Woodmont Family of God. Eventually, his sermons will be available here.

 “His Righteousness Endures Forever”: Two Hymns

Psalms 111 & 112

 

Vers	Psalm 111	Psalm 112
1          2             3        4        5           6         7         8       9         10	Praise the LORD.   I will extol the LORD with all my heart in the council of the upright and in the  assembly.      Great are the works of the LORD; they are pondered by all who delight in them.        Glorious and majestic are his deeds, and his righteousness endures forever.    He has caused his wonders to be remembered; the LORD is gracious and compassionate.        He provides food for those who fear him; he remembers his covenant forever.     He has shown his people the power of his works, giving them the lands of other nations.    The works of his hands are faithful and just; all his precepts are trustworthy.    They are steadfast for ever and ever, done in faithfulness and uprightness.   He provided redemption for his people; he ordained his covenant forever—holy and awesome is his name.      The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom; all who follow his precepts have good understanding.  To him belongs eternal praise.	Praise the LORD.    Blessed is the man who fears the LORD, who finds great delight in his commands.    His children will be mighty in the land; the generation of the upright will be  blessed.      Wealth and riches are in his house, and his righteousness endures forever.    Even in darkness light dawns for the upright, for the gracious and compassionate and  righteous man.     Good will come to him who is generous and lends freely, who conducts his affairs with justice.      Surely he will never be shaken;  a righteous man will be remembered  forever.      He will have no fear of bad news; his heart is steadfast, trusting in the LORD.   His heart is secure, he will have no fear; in the end he will look in triumph on his foes.    He has scattered abroad his gifts to the poor, his righteousness endures forever; his horn will be lifted high in honor.    The wicked man will see and be vexed, he will gnash his teeth and waste away; the longings of the wicked will come to nothing.

 

 

God created humanity as his representatives (“image of God”) to partner with him in caring for the earth, in co-creating the future with him, and sharing the joys of life. We are called to “mirror” God in our lives. Psalm 112 “mirrors” Psalm 111 and offers insight into how we are to become like God, particularly in the use of our resources and wealth in relation to “others” (creation, poor, community, etc.). We are called to partner with God in the use of our resources to pursue the righteous task that God has given us as his “imagers.” The blessed believer has “no fear of bad news” and is secure in trusting God.

 

Questions Based on Psalms 111 & 112 

 

1.  Noting that the subject of Psalm 111 is God and the subject of Psalm 112 is the blessed believer, what parallels can you see between the way God is extolled in Psalm 111 and the life of the blessed believer is celebrated in Psalm 112?

 

God is  ________________________      

The believer is ___________________

 

God is _________________________     

The believer is ___________________

 

God is _________________________     

The believer is ___________________

 

God is _________________________     

The believer is ___________________

 

God is _________________________     

The believer is ___________________

 

God is _________________________     

The believer is ___________________

 

God is _________________________     

The believer is ___________________

 

2.  What is the relationship between Psalm 111 and 112?  Why do you suppose they appear back-to-back in Israel’s hymnbook?  What does the Psalmist want to teach by putting these two together?  What is the relationship between praising God and the blessedness of his people?

 

3.  Does the “blessedness” of the believer scandalize you in any way? What is the blessed person’s relationship to wealth and poverty? What does the blessed person fear or not fear? How does this relationship give the believer freedom to become like God?

 

4.  Paul quotes Psalm 112 in 2 Corinthians 9:8-11 as part of his attempt to persuade the Corinthians to contribute to his fund for the poor saints in Jerusalem.

 

And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.  As it is written:  “He has scattered abroad his gifts to the poor;  his righteousness endures forever.”  Now he who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will also supply and increase your store of seed and will enlarge the harvest of your righteousness.  You will be made rich in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion, and through us your generosity will result in thanksgiving to God.

 

What is Paul’s application of this Psalm to the Corinthian church?  How does this inform our use of wealth in our context?  Where is the theme of generosity in both Psalm 111 and 112?

 

Bent and Broken but Better For It?

Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but–I hope–into a better shape.

Estella to Pip, Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, chap. 59

But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I shall come out like gold.

Job to Eliphaz, Job 23:10

Estella, “bent and broken” by an abusive marriage, is transformed into something “better.” Now she hopes for the love she once rebuffed and Pip sees her as part of his own redemption. Their suffering prepared them for each other. [Interestingly, the first ending to Great Expectations is not so happy.]

Job began his response to Eliphaz with a declaration that “Today also my complaint is bitter” and God’s “hand is heavy despite my groaning” (Job 23:1). But he knows his suffering is a test of some sort–a bitter one, but one which he will endure though he also protests it.

Estella and Pip can stand on the other side of suffering and value it though they did not enjoy it. Job can sit in the midst of his suffering and recognize it as a refining process though painful and seemingly unjust.

But it takes time to get there, if we ever do. Even Job, in his first response to Eliphaz, protested that “his days have no meaning” in the light of God’s testing (Job 7:16, 18). He boldly declared that he would “speak in the anguish of [his] spirit” and “complain in the bitterness of [his] soul” (Job 7:11).

Yet, somewhere in the process, Job saw something more in his experience than mere injustice. He seems to have always thought it was unfair (cf. Job 27:2) but he did come to see that there was more involved than just that. It had a purpose. Whatever meaning he saw, however, did not deter him from protesting (cf. Job 30).

But all sufferers do not come to terms with some kind of “meaning” in their suffering and neither does their suffering always end up “rosy.”  Sometimes sufferers die in the darkness unaware that their suffering has any meaning whatsover….if, in fact, it does.

Does Sheila’s death have meaning? Does Joshua’s? I think they do, but I am at a loss to tell exactly what it is. Did their losses test and refine me? Surely they did. Did I learn something through the fire? Yes, of course.  Am I better for having been “bent and broken”? Yes, today I am.

Was it worth it?  Honestly, No!  It is difficult to value my “betterment” (even transformation!) as more important than their lives. Here is where my protest arises–my complaint that is sometimes bitter and sometimes angry.

But I recognize that I do not see the whole picture. I don’t know all that God is doing; I could not begin to imagine his mysterious and hidden ways.  All I can do is sit where I sit at the bottom of the bowl, experience my little world, feel my feelings and trust that God knows what he is doing….trust that there is meaning in my suffering….that somehow, someway it is–in God’s grand wisdom–worth it.

Trust. That is the key word.  Trust enables acceptance and dispels fear…but it is a process and it takes time, sometimes lots of time. God is patient. I am his beloved. Let us be patient with each other.

Yesterday–A Testimony

Yesterday I drove to Ellijay, Georgia–the city of my wife’s birth, upbringing, marriage, death and burial. She died around 2:00am on April 30, 1980 while convalescing in her parent’s home from back surgery twenty days before.

Yesterday I drove to her graveside alone. I had not been there alone in some years, perhaps decades. It was time for me to sit with her, pray, reflect, and meditate.

When I arrived, I sat my portable chair near her grave.  Praying, I began journaling as my counselor suggested.  Journaling is often difficult for me, but this time I wrote for almost two hours.

The cemetery is a small one; it is nestled in a small depression with a country white Methodist church building rising above it. The church sits on Highway 52 which rides a blue ridge in north Georgia.  One road makes a short circle within the graveyard–so short that you have to keep your hand turning the wheels as the car moves among the gravestones. The graves are well-kept. It is a serene atmosphere as the cemetery is surrounded by trees and one large fir tree rises near the center.  All of this in sight of the surrounding ridges of the north Georgia mountains. It is a calm, peaceful setting.

Sheila was the first to be buried outside of the circle but today she is accompanied by aunts and uncles on her north and south side.  As yet she has no immediate family lying beside her.

When I sat down, the clouds were ominous. They were dark and brooding.  I anticipated rain and the forecast called for it. I wondered whether I would have to sit in the car and journal.  As I began journaling I wrote that the dark clouds were a metaphor for how I felt sitting next to her. Sadness filled my soul and tears flowed.

As I was writing and thinking about that metaphor–feeling my way through it, the sky changed. The clouds were still there, but a hole had opened up among them. The hole was situated directly above the cemetery and the sun lit Sheila’s grave. It was as if the whole cemetery was engulfed by the blue sky and its bright sun.  At the same time I felt a gentle, cool breeze flowing over me–a calm wind, a peaceful breath.

“God,” I wrote, “is this for me?”

The dark clouds began moving to the northeast, but the blue sky stayed directly over head. The sun was so bright at times that I could barely write. I needed sunglasses but had none. There were still plenty of clouds, but not over Sheila’s grave. The bright sunlight continued unabated.

“God,” I wrote, “are you telling me something?”

As I was driving down Highway 52 to turn into the parking lot of the Methodist church, I noticed how dark the clouds were and I thought to myself “how fitting.” It was how I always anticipated coming here–sad, depressing, upsetting. Consequently, I tended to avoid the grave.

“God,” I wrote, “are you telling me my life has been dark too long? that it is time to see the light?”

The trees whistled with a pleasant wind. The sun dispelled the darkness. The warmth of the sun and refreshing breeze renewed me. The sun’s warmth sent my heart to God’s love and the breeze felt like the breath (Spirit) of God. My father was blowing fresh grace on me–a fresh joy in that painful place with such painful memories.

“God,” I wrote, “you are here now–you are with me. There is peace. The dark clouds are moving away.”

I know not whether you believe in such experiences. But that was mine yesterday. It was as real to me as typing this sentence.  I’ve had them before and this one was simply amazing, wondrous and beautiful.

Is my grieving over?  I doubt it. But I think it reached a new stage yesterday. It was a moment of grace and joy when all I expected was fear and sadness.

“Is this God’s grace?” I wrote with tear-filled eyes.  Yes, indeed, it was.  Thank you, God.

I then visited with Sheila’s parents for a couple of hours. They are godly, good folk. They still love me and I love them.

Theology? Doctrine? Whatever…. (SBD 2)

A few introductory comments on the definition and function of theology……

Systematic Biblical Doctrine

That’s the title of the course I will teach this Maymester at the undergraduate level for Lipscomb University. I don’t particularly like it. Here’s why.

“Doctrine” rings hollow at best for most students (especially at the undergraduate level) and creates hostile suspicion for many. The word has a polemical ring in many ears such that it conjures up images of dueling antagonists engaged in heated debate where the loser goes to Hell. “Doctrinal error,” as the saying goes, “places one in danger of judgment,” right?

“Systematic” sounds, well, too systematic. It sounds like we are going to put the Bible into its “proper” order–an order that we impose through a preconcevived “system” (an order perhaps borrowed from some philosophical construct, cultural model or a previous scholasticism). This prioritizes “system” over text; it postulates an “order” to which the text must conform. This is onto-theology so that theology is shaped by a prior commitment to an ontology. Theology then becomes a form of philosophical anthropology, which means it is not theology at all but “anthropology in a loud voice” (so Barth’s critique of classic liberalism). It will override the text.

So, “Systematic Biblical Doctrine” sounds like a code word for imposing my system upon the biblical text in order to draw boundaries that define the “right” group. Consequently, I don’t like it. It is not what I think theology should do.

Rather, I proceed with a more narrative approach where theology is the exploration of the biblical plot–to trace the redemptive-historical work of God through Creation, Fall, Israel, Christ and Church into the Eschaton. It follows the plot line. Theology tells the story and seeks to absorb the contemporary world into the plot of the story.

Is there something systematic about theology? Well, of course. There is an order. But, it seems to me, that order is best understood as redemptive-historical plot, or drama, or story, or narrative. The order is not that of a “system” or a philosophical/metaphysical grid, but the order of a narrative plot in which we live or a drama that we perform.

The Function of Doctrine (Theology)

What image does “doctrine” evoke in your mind? Answers would probably range from meaningless discussions of unfruitful minutia of rationalistic projections by ivory-tower theologians to exciting visions of polemical engagements over distinctive points of doctrine. Both of these exercises could be called “doctrinal,” but both leave a bad taste in the mouth of contemporary Christians who are impatient with the impractical musings of theologians and fed up with the backbiting, abusive and sectarian character of heated exchanges.

Many are searching for something more significant. They yearn for pragmatic value instead of the perplexity of intellectual gymnastics and the haughtiness of intramural Christian squabbles. Students, like many church members, are skittish, suspicious and usually disheartened by any “doctrinal” discussion.

Homiletics illustrates the problem. Preaching, it is said, ought to be life-oriented, faith-building and practical. Doctrinal preaching is out of style and ineffective. Topical preaching is generally snubbed because, in part, it is usually doctrinal preaching, and it is much easier to sneak one’s doctrinal position into a series of texts in topical preaching than when expounding a particular text. Preaching is thought more effective if it is framed psychologically or in story or in exposition, but never “doctrinal”.

This rejection of doctrinal preaching is due in large measure to a reaction to a fundamentalist emphasis on polemics. There preaching generally focuses on peripheral issues which are unconnected with life. This is largely driven by a demand for “distinctive” preaching. What can you preach that a Baptist cannot? Or, what can a Baptist fundamentalist preacher say that distinguishes him from a Methodist? Thus, doctrinal preaching degenerates into battles over the Bible and skirmishes over distinctives or theological systems. A steady diet of such preaching does not strike at the heart of the central aspects of Christianity. As a result, controversy is highlighted without the illumination of Christianity’s center, the weightier matters.

On the other hand, sermons shaped by inductive storytelling or pop psychology have the tendency to offer secular advice in religious clothing. They remain superficial and fail to probe the deeper resources of meaning and application within the Christian faith (that is, they fail to be “doctrinal”). While this perspective is driven by the nausea of the popular culture with doctrinal preaching, without doctrine there is no substance. Without reflection on the Christian faith, there is no grounding in the story of God. This kind of preaching may produce a relatively healthy secular psychology, but it will foster a weak and immature faith; a faith easily tempted and seduced by the forces of humanism, materialism and pluralism in our culture. It will be a faith that adopts the values of its culture rather than challenging them.

Ellen T. Charry has argued that the function of Christian Doctrine is aretegenic, that is, it is “conducive to virtue” or it generates a virtuous life (By the Renewing of Your Minds [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1977], p. 19). The purpose of Christian doctrine is character formation, spiritual formation. Theology should give the people of God an identity (a sense of calling and status) and equip them with normative ideas and values that shape them into the image of Christ. The function of Christian doctrine is practical—to build a community which images God. Thus, the goal is neither polemical victory (to glory in being “right” on every issue) nor theological ingenuity (to glory in a “new” idea). It is pragmatic. Christian doctrine should serve God’s intent to seek a people that share his values and holiness in communion with him.

Theology is neither metaphysical speculation nor polemical exchange, but the applied story of God toward the goal of character formation—to be formed into the image of Christ. As Paul told Titus, if we will teach Christian doctrine (stress the theology of Titus 3:3-7), then the Christian community will be full of good works (Titus 3:8). This is the kind of “teaching” that is “good and profitable.” A community is shaped by its doctrine; it will become what its doctrine is. Teachers and preachers pay heed. Doctrine must be aretegenic if it is to be biblical.

What theology does Paul have in mind? He summarizes it in Titus 3:3-7. If Titus would have a vibrant community of faith, he should stress this: (1) the triune work of God—the Father who loved us through Jesus the Son and renewed us through the Holy Spirit; (2) our utter fallenness and thus the need for redemption; (3) the divine initiative for our salvation, the motive that moved the divine initiative, and the divine work which accomplished it; (4) the nature and means of our salvation as our redemption is not only forgiveness by the grace of Jesus Christ but transformation by the power of the Spiorit; and (5) the creation of a community of believers with eschatological hope.

Stress these things, Paul told Titus, and the people of God will be dedicated to good works (transformed living in service to others). They will avoid foolish controversies and quarrels about the law (polemics will not be their focus). They will be God’s people who image Christ in a fallen world; they will be a people who live according to the age to come rather than fashioned by this present evil age.

Significance of Doctrine

My call in this class is to a renewed appreciation for the fact that doctrine is at the heart of our faith–our faith involves theological (worldview, metanarrative) commitments and our ethics are pregnant with theological meaning and grounding. Our communal reflection and teaching must reflect these theological or doctrinal commitments or our people will have no grounding or understanding of the deep roots of their faith. We must develop within our people the ability to “do theology,” to think critically about their faith in relation to their life, so that their lives might reflect the commitments of their faith.

This kind of reflection is necessary if we are to perform the story, that is, live within the story of God. If we do not provide that heart and push for that reflection, then another “heart” will drive our lives and decisions. Instead of participating in God’s drama, believers will, by default, adopt the cultural mores which subtly shape them. Without reflection on the narrative of God’s story competing narratives will shape us. Without critical reflection on our faith, we naturally adopt a faith (worldview, metanarrative) which is comfortable and suitable to the age in which we live. Critical reflection demands that we retune our ears instead of having them scratched by contemporary culture.

More specifically, I offer this definition of “Christian Doctrine”: “Christian doctrine is pouring God’s self-revelation in Jesus Christ into our human experience so that we might embody the life of Jesus in the present.”  I attempt to do this comprehensively (whole of Scripture–both Hebrew and Greek–applied to the whole of life), coherently (seeking the integrative and consistent character of God’s story throughout redemptive history but without straggling the diversity of that story by some strait-jacket harmonizing technique), contextually (we are situated, concrete humans living in specific cultural contexts) and Christologically (the culmination of God’s revelation through creation and Israel is Jesus the Christ, the eschatological Son of Man breaking into the present from the future). This is faith seeking understanding. Theology asks how our faith relates to our human experience; and in particular, how should we live in the light of what God has done in Jesus.

Theology, then, is intended to be critical; it is self-reflection. It is a search for understanding–to understand the story of God in Israel and, ultimately, in Christ. This critical reflection is necessary to ensure that our praxis is faithful to God’s narrative. Theology is the self-conscious effort to interpret reality through the lens of God’s self-revelation in Christ given to us in Scripture.

Christian Doctrine as Story

Theology is a narrative enterprise as it seeks to tell the story of God, explains its meaning and apply its principles to the contemporary world. Theology is fundamentally a secondary language in which the church speaks, but a necessary one. The power of its language (including its propositions) is drawn from the power of the story as it is given to us in Scripture. Scripture is the first order; it is the norm. Theology is second order; it attempts to provide a coherent and practical model of the first for a contemporary audience by way of application. It is presumptive to think that our model is an exact duplicate of the first. Our model does not bear the perfections of the first. Our model does not have the first-hand character of the first as a witness to the story. Our model is a retelling of the story; the first is the story.

In other words, as Stan Grenz notes, our model is not a replica, but an analogue. A replica would be a miniaturization of a reality in its exact dimensions, but an analogue simulates the structural relationships of the reality modeled. It speaks analogously–we are pilgrim thinkers that are ever trying to model our theology after God’s own narrative telling. Our theology does not equal Scripture, but it models it. This is the ongoing process of sanctification, as we seek to bring our thoughts in captivity to God’s thoughts.

This means that theology is always a human construct–fallible, subject to adjustment, and always stands under Scripture. This means that theology is reflection on faith; it is not to be equated with faith. Theology draws out the meaning of our experience of faith; but it is not a substitute for faith. It informs and guides our faith as we live it out in our specific contexts, but faith is itself the foundation for theology.

Theology is not absolute truth. God is the absolute Truth. We can apprehend truths about him as he has revealed them in Scripture. But as we attempt to narrate, understand and apply those truths, we do so as situated, fallible, finite human beings. We cannot absolutize our system–only God is Absolute. There is only one God and we are not “him.”

Fearless and Free During Economic Storms II

Note: This is the second of six small group studies that are coordinated with a sermon series by Dean Barham, the preaching minister at the Woodmont Family of God. Eventually, his sermons will be available here. The first small group study lesson is here.

Free From Greed, Free to Share
1 Timothy 6:2b-19

Free From Greed

There are those who love money so much that they think “godliness is a means to financial gain,” but “godliness with contentment is great gain.” Greed distorts what is really important; it perverts the pursuit of godliness into a financial adventure. The love of money corrupts everything it touches.

The love of money—the idolatry of money—is expressed in a desire to “get rich” which is the flip side of a lack of contentment. “Whoever loves money never has money enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with his income” (Ecclesiastes 5:10).

The pursuit of wealth without contentment results in “many griefs” because that agenda is a “trap” that leads to “ruin and destruction.” It blinds and ensnares us. Wealth without contentment is sinking sand whereas generosity is a “firm foundation.”

Free to Share

The freedom to share is nurtured by the development of a character that pursues “righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness.” Formed by these virtues disciples are “generous and willing to share.”

The pursuit of wealth without sharing is arrogance and trusts wealth rather than God. Stinginess, the inability to share, indicates stunted spiritual growth; it is ungodliness—to be unlike God himself.

The wealthy are commanded “to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share.” To “do good” is a Jewish expression for benevolence as in, for example, James 4:17: “Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins.” The heart of the wealthy is tested by whether it shares or not, whether it can be generous like God.

Godliness the Key

Godliness—living as God’s partner in the present age—frees us from greed so that we are free to share. This freedom is the “treasure” that offers a “firm foundation for the coming age.” This “treasure” enables us to “take hold of the life that is truly life.”

Contentment, character and charitableness are intimately woven together in the freedom of godliness. Dissatisfaction, arrogance and miserliness are intimately woven together in the snare of greed.

Greed enslaves but godliness liberates, and when godliness liberates, we become generous people just as God himself is generous with us in providing “us with everything for our enjoyment.”

Questions for Discussion

1. What are some of the characteristics of those who use godliness for “financial gain”? What are some of the characteristics of a godly person? What does this text say about who God is?
2. Given 1 Timothy 6:17-19, what “sermon” would you share with the “rich”? Do you sense a measure of discomfort with that sermon? Why?
3. Why is the pursuit of wealth a snare? What makes it a snare? Is there a pursuit of wealth that is not a snare? Why do you think so? Why are human beings so susceptible to this snare?
4. How do we know whether we are “loving money” or not? What “tests” or “questions” can we apply to ourselves to discern this in our character?
5. What does contentment mean? What does it look like in our lives?
6. As wealthy Americans, do we find ourselves defensive when it comes to how we use our wealth? If so, why?

The Mother Of Jesus Praises The Lord

The Magnificat
“My Soul Magnifies the Lord”

Luke 1:46-55

This song has been used by the church, almost daily, since the late fourth century. It has been sung, prayed and preached for centuries. In the text of Luke, it is one of three songs. The other two are by Elizabeth (1:42-45) and Zechariah (1:68-79). Mary’s song rests between them and is thereby highlighted.

For those interested in a rather detailed exegesis of the Magnificat, see the piece by Curtis A. Jahn. The appendix of the article has a wonderful chart which connects the language of the Magnificat with praise texts in the Hebrew Bible.

Mary praises God for his gracious kindness toward her (Luke 1:46-49).

Mary magnifies (exalts) the Lord and rejoices (delights) in God her Savior. This comes from deep within her—her soul, her spirit. Her praise and delight are rooted in God’s “look” toward her; he has been “mindful” of her. Mary was lovingly and affectionately chosen despite her humble, impoverished status. She was no daughter of a king, but she will now be the mother of one.

Hearing Elizabeth’s “blessing” pronouncement, Mary prophetically accepts that every generation will called her “blessed.” But her blessedness is not due to something within her. Her blessedness is the Lord’s doing. She is blessed by what the Lord does, and as a result she receives the title “blessed” when previously she was “humble.” Mary then ends this stanza the way it began–the name of God “holy” (transcendent, awesome, amazing, beyond our imagination; cf. Psalm 99) just as she began her song “magnifying” (making God great) the Lord.

Questions to Consider: What is the root of Mary’s praise? How does she see herself before and after God’s mighty act for her? How does this model our own acceptance of God’s mighty acts for us?

Mary recognizes that that God’s mercy extends beyond her (Luke 1:50-53).

Mary begins the second stanza with a praise and testimony to God’s mercy. Just as generations will call her blessed because of God’s mercy, in the same way that mercy will envelope generations to come as they trust (revered) God as Mary trusted God. Mercy is what God demonstrates by his actions in verses 51-53.

What God did in exalting Mary to a blessed state is nothing new; it is the pattern of God’s redemptive work throughout history (for example, Mary uses language reminiscent of Hannah in 1 Samuel 2). This is what God does in history: he performs mighty deeds for the humble and hungry as he topples the arrogant, powerful and wealthy.

God reverses the established order of this broken world. He brings good news to the poor and oppressed; this is the gospel. God does the unexpected—and salvation itself is unexpected. It is divine grace.

Questions to Consider: What do you learn about God from reading these few lines? How is his mercy manifested? How does his mercy continue throughout the generations and in your life?

Mary testifies that God keeps his promise of mercy to Israel (Luke 1:54-55).

The motherhood of Mary is the fulfillment God’s promise to the patriarchs, the fathers of Israel. God, literally, has “taken hold of” or “embraced his servant Israel.” God has loved his people by keeping his promise through the birth of Jesus.

This is itself an act of mercy. God has remembered his mercy. The mercy that overthrows the arrogant and powerful is the mercy he now extends “to Abraham and his descendents forever.” This mercy God will continually extend and display throughout the generations to come.

Questions to Consider: What experience in your own life comes to mind when you think about God “remembering mercy”? Where in your life have you felt the embrace of God’s love for you? Last week I posted a testimony about a recent experience of God’s mercy in my life.

Note: I have previously posted about the Magnificat but this one is designed for small group discussion.

A sermon based on this text is available at the Sycamore View Church of Christ website.  Look for my lesson under May 10, 2009.

Creation: A Divine Piece of Work (SBD 3)

[Note: I am attempting to keep these SBD installments under 2000 words each, but that is--of course--quite inadequate for the topics covered. Consequently, these contributions are more programmatic than they are explanatory or defenses of the positions stated. You may access the whole series at my Serial page.]

The divine community enjoys communion with the created community as God rejoices over and rests within the creation that reveals the glory of God.

A Triune, Sovereign and Gracious Act

The Triune community creates the human community and places them within the creation. The Father is the fountainhead and origin of creation. The cosmos originated with the Father, but it came into being through the agency of the Son (1 Corinthians 8:6) as the wisdom and principle of creation (Proverbs 8). The Spirit is the dynamic breath of God who gives and preserves life within the creation. The Father created through the Son by the power of the Spirit.

The act of creation testifies to the “infinite qualitative difference” between the Creator and the creation; creation ratifies God’s transcendence and sovereignty. Psalm 33, for example, moves from creation to sovereignty with theological ease. God created what was intended; nothing frustrated the divine purpose.

The sovereign act of creation testifies to God’s aseity. This means that God is God before and without the creation. God is not dependent upon anything outside of the divine life itself. The divine community is sufficient in itself; it is full and rich without anything or anyone else. Besides God there is nothing else before God created. This excludes any kind of metaphysical dualism, panentheism or pantheism.

The act of creation testifies to the love of God; it was a gracious, free act. God was not compelled by some inner necessity to create as if some hole had to be filled in the divine life or for that God created so that God might become fully God. God was not lonely; the Triune God has lived in eternal communion. Rather, God freely chose to create. That gracious act was one of self-giving–not by compulsion or grudgingly.

To Enjoy and Develop

The divine community created a human community within the creation. Why did God create? The root answer is not power or ego, but love. While sovereign power enabled creation, love moved it. While God created for glory, God experiences this glory as the divine community delights in the creation and the fulfillment of God’s telos. The glory of God is not ego-driven but moved by love for the other. God is glorified through communion with the creation.

This movement is rooted in God’s own ontology. God subsits in the communion of the Father, Son and Spirit; God is being-in-relation. This mutual indwelling of the divine life is the fullness of divine communion. God created to share this communion—this mutual indwelling—with others. The act of creation was other-centered; the divine community chose others rather than the satus quo of its own communion.

The prayer of Jesus in John 17:20-26 glories in the love the Father has for the Son, but the goal of this love, though mutual, is not self-focused. On the contrary, the telos of God’s self-revelation is to share the mutual love between the Father and Son with the creation. God draws humanity into the orbit of the Triune love so that we might participate and share in the divine communion which existed before the world began.

This is God’s joy. As the story constantly reveals, God delights in the communion of those created by his power for the sake of love. Moreover, God delights in the creation itself. Psalm 104 describes God’s care and joy for the creation (inclusive of animals as well as the stars). God rejoices over the works of creation and the earth is full of God’s faithful love.

God did not create the cosmos in order to annihilate it, but created it to live within it—to dwell within the creation. Scripture often describes the creation with architectural imagery—the creation is a divine temple in which God lives even though it cannot contain the fullness of divine presence. The earth was created as the temple of the Lord in which God would dwell in peace, joy and community. This is a significant theological trajectory in Scripture.

When God had finished six days of creating, God rested within it. The creation became God’s “resting place” (Isaiah 66:1). The creation—filled with shalom—is the divine sanctuary in which God rested. The divine Sabbath rest is not merely about cessation from work but about enjoying what was created. The Sabbath rest—both divine and human Sabbaths—are the experience of communion, joy and peace. God not only rests from creating but also rests within and with the creation. God invites the creation—both human and animal—to share the divine rest.

The creation is good but not perfect. The goodness of creation means that that it fits what God intended–it is shalom-filled, serves the divine purpose and there is no inherent evil within in (Genesis 1). But this is not a Platonic perfection that resists change. On the contrary, God created something that would grow and develop, that would mature, adapt and change. The creation was intended to develop into the fullness of the future—to become all it could be. The creation is only the starting point; it was not the goal. The creation, under God’s sovereign care and in partnership with humanity, would emerge, grow and develop till the divine telos was reached. God created something dynamic rather than static.

To Reveal

The heavens declare the glory of God (Psalm 19:1). What God created and how God sovereignly rules the creation proclaims the glory of the divine community.

Creation is God’s own self-disclosure but it is not full disclosure. The creation cannot enclose the fullness of God’s own life but it does testify to it. Creation is an act of revelation. Some call this “general revelation” because it is generally available to all humanity while others call it a “natural knowledge” of God because this knowledge comes through the natural constitution of things.

As creatures living in a creation generated and indwelt by a Creator there is an innate awareness of a presence that transcends us; ther is an awareness of the infinite within our finitude. A divine presence—as if fingerprints on the creation—is immanent within the created reality. This is not so much a “natural theology” as a “creation theology.” God is manifest within the creation (Romans 1:19-20). Humans have a pre-reflective (Rahner) or immediate (Van Til) knowledge of God; this intuitive knowledge of God is the sense of divinity (Calvin’s sensus divinitas) within every human being. It is an openness to transcendence (Pannenberg). God created a world in which humans would know the divine, where they would seek beyond themselves for something to ground their existence and give meaning to it. The divine is revealed rather than obscured.

This revelatory work of God is not simply a past act of creation. Rather, God is immanently at work in the world to seek a people and acts within creation and history to evoke a response. Paul’s sermon in Acts 17:22-31 describes God as the creator and ongoing giver of life as well as the founder and ruler of nations. The divine purpose creates an environment in which humans will seek, grope after and find God. Human existence and history have a divine telos. The one in whom we live and move and have our being is the one who reveals life through creation and history.

God has left a witness not only in creation but in history as well. Consequently, we listen for God’s work in history as part of his witness to us. This entails a certain amount of openness to how other religions speak the truth about God in the feeble, fallible manner of human reason, experience and culture. Since there is an immediate awareness of God within the creation and God is active in human history, an openness to a history of divine disclosure within the history of religions is appropriate despite the degenerative dimensions of the human condition that distort God’s revelation.

Further, the goodness of creation entails a certain openness to the human sciences of anthropology, psychology and sociology as avenues of insight into the human psyche and an openness to science as a divine gift for understanding and caring for the creation. This divine presence within human nature, religions, disciplines and history is called “common grace” by Reformed theologians because it recognizes these as moments of revelatory grace whereby God leaves a witness within the creation.

But that witness is not left only to creation and history as a process of divine providence and sovereign care. More particularly, God entered history in the person of Jesus, the crucified and raised one, as a witness of and means to the divine telos. He is the good news of God. This divine revelation is specific, historic, and personal—sometimes called “special revelation.” This revelation in Jesus is the exegesis of God whereby God gives us an interpretative lens through which to see the divine telos more clearly, more decisively and more personally. God has a “Word” (Logos)  for humanity that transcends the creation even as it given within the creation as a part of the creation. Paul, in Acts 17:30-31, appealed to the resurrection of Jesus as evidence of God’s enagament with the creation.

So What?

The ground of worship is creation (Psalm 148:5; Revelation 4:11). We worship the Creator because the one who created is infinitely and qualitatively different from us. Creation evokes doxology because of the goodness and grace—not merely the power—revealed by God’s act. We worship because we are part of the creation rather than the Creator ourselves. The doctrine of creation defends against all forms of idolatry—nothing or no one can stand in the place of the Creator.

Since God is ontologically communal, being-in-relation, his creative act is relational in character. God creates to be-in-relation rather than simply to put omnipotence on display. God desires worship not because of some egocentricity but because of the desire to be-in-relation as God experiences mutual joy with the worshippers in the moment of worship. God intends to commune with his creation rather than subjugate it as tyrant or annihilate it as destroyer.

The creation is a divine dwelling-place; it is God’s sanctuary. The creation, of course, is not God, but the creation is valued, loved and enjoyed by God. The divine intent is to dwell among humanity within the creation. This entails a deep ecological theology whereby human beings value, love and enjoy the creation just as God does. It also entails a strong sense of immanence—not panentheism or pantheism—whereby God reveals himself through the birds, the trees, the sunlight and other “messengers” (Psalm 104) of creation. God conveys his presence through the sacrament of creation itself.

Matter—the created reality—flows from the hand of God. Materiality is good, not evil. It is not an inherently inferior mode of being for creatures. In fact, it is the creaturely mode of being itself. God created matter, enfleshed our spirits, incarnated himself in matter (flesh), and intends to redeem matter (resurrection of the body and the renewal of creation). God intended the created world—the material world—to be inhabited (Isaiah 45:18) and filled. His purpose has not changed.

The goodness of creation has significant implications for ethics. As creatures who are created to represent and imitate the Creator, what God created expresses the divine intent and norms human behavior. The ethical value of creation is not only about ecology, but also about sexuality, family, stewardship (divine ownership and human management of resources), work and rest, and vocation among many other concerns.

Conclusion

Creation is not only the first act of divine revelation; it is the beginning of the story. As far as the narrative of Scripture is concerned, creation is where our story begins. It identifies us, defines us and invites us to participate in God’s story as all creation moves toward the divine telos. Our first identity is creaturehood and our mode of being is creatureliness. We are not God; the Creator is.