July 1, 2009
[This is a brief small group/Bible class series that parallels the sermons of Dean Barham at Woodmont Hills Family of God in Nashville, TN, for the month of July 2009. You may listen to Dean's lessons here.]
THE DIVINE SHEPHERD
Psalm 23
“God Who Has Been My Shepherd All My Life”
Genesis 48:15
The “Shepherd” metaphor is a rich but now somewhat distant idea. The relationship of a shepherd with his sheep was profound—friendly, comfortable and trusting. The Shepherd’s provided for and protected the flock. He led them to food and water as he protected them against predators. Sheep followed their shepherd.
“Shepherd” also had royal connotations in the ancient world. Kings were shepherds of their people (see Jeremiah 23:1-4). David, then, though first a shepherd of sheep became of shepherd of God’s people (Psalm 78:70-72). The shepherd King is supposed to embody the life and heart of the divine shepherd.
The entire Psalm is an exposition of the first line: “I shall not want” or lack. The Psalm then tells us what the believer does not lack with God as Shepherd. It does not mean “I don’t lack for anything I ever desired,” but “here is what the Lord has done for me so I do not really lack anything.” The meaning is “so long as the Lord is my shepherd, I will not lack for anything I need.”
At one level, the Psalm’s language rehearses God’s activity in Israel, particularly “exodus” language (the language of God leading Israel through the wilderness into the Promised Land). During the wilderness time Israel lacked nothing (Deuteronomy 2:7), God lead Israel to holy pastures (Exodus 15:13), there is no fear because God is with them (Deuteronomy 20:1; 31:8), God prepared a table for Israel in the wilderness (Psalms 78:19), and God dwelled among his people in the tabernacle during the wilderness (Leviticus 26:11-12).
At another level, the Psalm’s language describes God’s relationship with believers. The Psalm is a testimony to what God does for his people (both communally and personally) and it is a testimony of God’s caring presence. The significance of “The Lord is my Shepherd” is that “I am with you.”
Notice the images that fill the Psalm. They are images about how God cares for believers. God nourishes the soul (grass, water, “restores my soul”), provides ethical guidance (“paths of righteousness” and the “staff” is about leadership that guides), comforts the broken (no fear, comforting “staff”), protects against evil (“rod”=club for defense, enemies), lives confidently (goodness and mercy will follow), and celebrates life (table, oil, cup).
The key idea, if there is one, is indicated by what lies at the center of the Psalm (“You are with me”) as well how it begins (“The Lord is My Shepherd”) and ends (“I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever”). The key idea is presence–it is a presence that acts. It comforts, nourishes, protects, celebrates with and blesses. The Psalm is a testimony to what God has done for his people (corporately and personally) and it is a testimony of God’s caring presence among his people. The significance of “The Lord is my Shepherd” is that “I am with you.”
God as Shepherd is a model for human shepherds whether Israelite kings or church elders. Theirs must be a presence that acts as well—comforting, nourishing, protecting, guiding and enjoying the people of God.
Discussion Questions
1. What images are most compelling and helpful to you in this Psalm? What in this Psalm speaks most directly to your heart and experience? How does that image reflect God’s shepherding care?
2. Since God is the model shepherd for human shepherds, what qualities in this Psalm are most important for human shepherds, particularly shepherds of the church?
3. What might these qualities look like in a church which is led by elders? How should elders imitate the divine shepherd? If you could say to an elder, this Psalm means you should __________, how would you fill in the blank?
4. When thinking about who you might nominate as a shepherd at Woodmont Hills, identify those people who have comforted, nourished, and guided you in your discipleship. Share some of these individuals with the group and how they pastored you in your walk.
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Theology | Tagged: Bible-Psalms, Bishops, Ecclesiology, Elders, King, Leadership, Polity, Psalm 23, Shepherd, Shepherds | 
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Posted by John Mark Hicks
June 30, 2009
[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.]
Sacramental theology, in some quarters of American Christianity, needs a reorientation away from an anthropocentric, human-centered, understanding where the sacraments are conceived as mere acts of human obedience to a more theocentric understanding where the sacraments are conceived as divine acts of grace through which God encounters believers to transform them into the divine image by the presence of Jesus in the power of the Spirit.
Definition of a Sacrament
Sacramentum, the original Latin word, is sometimes translated “pledge” and at other times “mystery” (the Greek Church calls the sacraments the “mysteries”). Both meanings have been applied to sacramental theology, and both are appropriate. However, as Calvin argued in his Institutes (4.14.13), it is the mystery of the sacrament that is primary rather than its pledging function. The sacraments are more than simple “church ordinances.” They are divine mysteries.
When sacrament is viewed primarily or solely as human pledge, it is anthropocentric since it is understood as something we humans do—we pledge allegiance, we testify to God’s grace, we obey, etc. But sacrament as mystery is theocentric because it is something that God does—God acts through the sacraments by the Spirit through faith. Both perspectives are true and helpful but divine action grounds and gives meaning to our human acts in the sacraments. Sacraments are external events (specific moments in space and time) which not only signify the gospel and by which we bear witness to the gospel but also through which God acts by faith to communicate justifying and sanctifying grace to believers through Jesus in the power of the Spirit.
Sacraments are (1) concrete, material realities that (2) represent the reality of the gospel, that is, they are signs that point beyond themselves to the work of God in Christ. But they do more than point, they are (3) means of grace that participate in the reality to which they point and joined to that reality by the promise of God as they mediate that spiritual reality to those who experience the sacrament. This experience is (4) eschatological as we participate in the future reality of the kingdom of God whether it is the Messianic banquet around the table, resurrection through baptism or the eschatological assembly around the throne through gathering together. The power of this sacramental moment, however, is not contained in the sign itself but (5) is effected by the Spirit who mediates the presence of God through the sacrament as (6) we receive what God gives through faith.
Sacraments are a human witness to the grace of God as well as a human pledge of allegiance to the story of God in Jesus, but they are also divine pledges of assurance and means by which God encounters, communes with and transforms believers into the image of Christ.
Sacramental Foundations
God’s sacramental approach to humanity is rooted in creation and revealed throughout redemptive history.
Creation. Since sacraments involve external, created objects (e.g., bread and wine), some have rejected a sacramental understanding on the ground of their physicality. Nothing external or physical, one might argue, can mediate the spiritual. But, ultimately, this is a denial of the goodness of creation. God was present within the creation at the beginning living in communion with the original community. God rested and dwelt in the creation as his presence was mediated through the tree of life, through walking in the Garden, and sharing life together. The good creation was designed as the context in which God would commune with creation and enjoy it.
Israel. While some dismiss the “externals” and “ceremonies” of Israel, they were sacramental occasions for the presence of God within Israel. The temple, for example, was no mere sign of divine presence, but was an authentic location of God’s redeeming and communion presence though the temple—of course—could not contain the fullness of God. Circumcision sealed the promise of God, sacrifices mediated forgiveness and sacrificial meals were occasion for rejoicing in the presence of God, and assemblies were encounters with divine presence. Though these externals and ceremonies were fulfilled and transcended in the “new covenant,” they were authentic experiences of divine presence and power under the “old covenant.”
Christ. The theological root of sacramental theology is the statement that Christ is the Sacrament of God. The incarnation sanctified creation—God became flesh and the flesh truly mediated the presence of God in the world. The grace and truth of God was located within creation in the flesh of Jesus. The fullness of God dwelt in the material and physical body of Jesus. To place a disjunction between materiality and spirituality is to undermine the incarnation. God united the material and spiritual in the person of Jesus. The sacraments draw their meaning, power and efficacy from the union of creation and God in the incarnation. The sacraments are fundamentally Christological rather than ecclesiological.
Church. As the “second incarnation” of Jesus in the world, the church is itself a sacramental reality. The church is the body of Christ and God dwells in the bodies (soma) of believers through the Spirit of God. We—finite, concrete embodied people—are the habitation of God. This is no figure of speech or mere sign. It is real—the Spirit of God dwells in the body of Christ and we are that body, even in our own material somatic existence. We are sacramental beings—we live each moment as the divine dwelling places—sanctified by the Spirit’s indwelling.
Eschaton. While the church is a flawed (by its own sin) but authentic (by the presence of God) sacrament, the eschatological community of God will enjoy entire sanctification in both body and soul. The Spirit of God will transform our bodies—from mortality to immortality, from dishonor to honor. We will live on the new heaven and new earth in Spiritual bodies, that is, material bodies animated by the Spirit of God. We will become like Christ as we are fully transfigured into the image of God and dwell with God in a sanctified new creation. Creation again will be a sacrament, our bodies will be sacramental dwelling places of God’s Spirit, and God will fully rest again in the creation. All creation will be a sacrament as everything will be inscribed with the words “Holy to the Lord.”
High Drama in Community: Assembly, Baptism and the Lord’s Supper
“Sacramental” speaks of the mystery of God’s action toward and in us through the external means of water, wine, bread and communal assembly as we experience the story of God (the theodrama) in specific moments. Baptism, the Lord’s Supper and Assembly are dramatic rehearsals of the story through which God renews communion and empowers transformation. By faith the community participates in this story and rehearses that story together as the church shares the sacramental reality together through water, food and gathering in the power of the Spirit.
Theologically, these gospel “ordinances” (or sacraments) have ordinarily (though with some variation) been construed in this manner: baptism as the means of grace for justification through participation in the death and resurrection of Jesus; the Lord’s Supper as the means of grace for sanctification through remembrance and/or communion with the death of Christ; and the Lord’s Day as the means of grace for communal worship through celebration of his resurrection. In this sense, they are not only gospel ordinances—they bear witness to the gospel, but they are also sacramental means through which believers experience the grace of the gospel in the Spirit. In other words, these gospel symbols mediate the presence of Christ to his community. They are more than signs but are also symbols through which God acts.
They are not substitutes for discipleship or transformation but rather moments of encounter with God through which we are moved along the path of discipleship toward entire sanctification. This kind of sacramentalism is not popular. Evangelicals and the positivistic hermeneutic embedded in the Stone-Campbell Movement have something in common—they ultimately disconnect the sacraments from discipleship and empty all sacramental imagination from these ordinances. Baptism becomes either a mere symbol or a test of loyalty. The Lord’s Supper becomes an anthropocentric form of individualistic piety. Assembly becomes either the ongoing public test of faithfulness (a definition of a “faithful Christian”) which degenerates into a legalism or fundamentally a horizontal occasion for mutual encouragement which is susceptible to pragmatic consumerist ideology.
In Come to the Table I argued that the Lord’s Supper is a means by which we experience the presence of the living Christ and enjoy a renewal of future hope. Indeed, we experience that future anew every time we eat and drink at the Lord’s table. It is an authentic communion with God through Christ in the power of the Spirit. Additionally, in Down in the River to Pray Greg Taylor and I argued that Baptism is a means of grace through which we encounter the saving act of God in Christ through his death and resurrection. We participate in the gospel and are renewed by the Spirit through our burial and resurrection with Christ. Further, in A Gathered People Bobby Valentine, Johnny Melton and I argued that Assembly, wherever and whenever a community of Jesus’ disciples gather to seek God’s face (e.g., to pray), is a moment when we draw near to the Father and Jesus in their eschatological glory by the Spirit. This assembly participates in the eschatological assembly as the Spirit ushers us into the heavenly Jerusalem where we share the future with all the saints gathered around the world and spread throughout time. Assembly, Baptism and the Lord’s Supper are moments of communion, participation and encounter.
The sacraments, then, are fundamentally an encounter between God and believers for the sake of transformation and spiritual formation. God is active rather than passive. God is truly present. God is not a spectator but a participant as the Father through the presence of Christ by the power of the Spirit seals, confirms and energizes our faith through communion and encounter in these sacramental events.
So What?
The sacraments are an authentic experience of God. The sacraments are not bare (nude) signs but means of divine action. They are divine gifts through which we may experience God as God comes to us in grace and mercy. God is not absent from the creation and only dwelling in the “spirituality” of our consciousness, but God is present through the creation as the Spirit existentially and communally unites us with Christ through bread and wine, through water, and through assembly.
The sacraments serve our faith as moments of assurance which our feeble hearts can grasp through materiality. God’s Word and promise are connected to the signs. Faith is assured that Jesus is ours as surely as our lips sip wine, are bodies are washed and the people of God are gathered. The sacraments are means of assurance for embodied believers.
The sacraments are communal experiences of God. As God created community and redeems a community, so the divine presence comes to us in community as well. Baptism, Lord’s Supper and Assembly are shared experiences through which God is present to bind us together. We were baptized into one body, we eat the one body of Christ together, and we are the body of Christ in assembly united with the church triumphant as well as militant.
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Theology | Tagged: Assembly, Baptism, Christology, Church, Ecclesiology, Lord's Supper, Presence, Sacraments, Table | 
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Posted by John Mark Hicks
June 27, 2009
When we think that “rebaptism” issues were only debated within Churches of Christ, perhaps we need to see things more broadly (e.g., Southern Baptists rebaptize) and historically (can you say “Donatist“?).
A blogpost entitled “Southern Baptists and Alien Immersion” was linked to my last post and it drew my interest. It illustrates that while there is potential rapprochement on baptismal theology, there is also strong and settled entrenchment on the subject.
The post quoted some results of a survey of 778 Southern Baptist pastors. 74% surveyed said their churches would not accept immersions by the Assembly of God or Free Will Baptist Churches. 87% said they would not accept immersions by Churches of Christ.
I think this is rather sad. When immersion is hinged on anything other than faith in Christ, it seems to me that it becomes an ecclesial–and consequently sectarian–power play. Baptism then serves denominational loyalty rather than serving faith in Jesus.
Alexander Campbell’s insistence that the confession of Jesus as the Christ is the only requirement for baptism seems all the more important to emphasize in our contemporary American context–not only for members of Churches of Christ but also, apparently, for pastors among Southern Baptist churches.
Whoever believes in Jesus is a candidate for baptism and whoever dismisses their baptism denies, it seems to me, the power of God’s work through faith (Colossians 2:12).
4 Comments | Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: Baptism, Churches of Christ, Rebaptism, Southern Baptists | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
June 26, 2009
Just as Zurich (“Zwinglianism”) and Geneva (“Calvinianism”) found sacramental common ground in the Consensus Tigurinus, my paper at the 2009 Christian Scholar’s Conference explored whether such a rapprochement is possible between Southern Baptists and Churches of Christ who, in many ways, are the credobaptistic heirs of Zurich and Geneva. Since there is presently a renewed discussion among Southern Baptists and British Baptists concerning baptismal “sacramentalism” and there is also a new openness among Churches of Christ toward a more historic Calvinian understanding of baptism as a means of grace, there is hope for some kind of “rapprochement” between Southern Baptists and Churches of Christ in the United States. With historical perspective and theological reflection Churches of Christ and Southern Baptists are potentially on the verge of a Consensus Americanus.
Generally, the Consensus united the Protestant Swiss Cantons in their sacramental theology and offered a mediating position between Zwingli and Luther which was ultimately Calvin’s own position. In particular, the sacraments, according to the Consensus, offer (praestat) what the signs symbolize (Article VIII), the reality is not separated from the sign (Article IX), and the signs are themselves instruments of divine grace (Article XIII). The Consensus bridged a gap between Zwingli and Luther by stressing the instrumentality of the signs by the power of the Spirit. The signs effect nothing by themselves (Article XII) but “they are indeed instruments by which God acts efficaciously when he pleases” while at the same time “salvation” is “ascribed” to God “alone” (Article XIII) because “it is God who alone acts by his Spirit” (Article XII).
1812 was a significant year for both Churches of Christ and American Baptists. In that same year Alexander Campbell, Adoniram Judson and Luther Rice were immersed upon their profession of faith in Jesus and embraced credobaptism as biblical theology. Their heirs, however, engaged in hostile and sometimes bitter disputes over the design of baptism. Generally speaking, conservative Stone-Campbell adherents—particularly among 20th century Churches of Christ—moved away from Campbell’s own Calvinian understanding of baptism as a “means of grace” to a positivistic watershed line between heaven and hell and conservative Baptists—particularly Southern Baptists—embraced a Zwinglian understanding of sacramental theology. However, there are signs that there are converging interests and theology among leaders within Churches of Christ and Southern Baptists.
Since 1999 a large number of monographs and journal articles have appeared in British publications that have argued for baptismal sacramentalism, that is, baptism as the “evangelical sacrament” that is a normative part of the conversion narrative and a means of grace (cf. Anthony R. Cross, “The Evangelical Sacrament: Baptisma Semper Reformandum,” Evangelical Quarterly 80.3 [2008] 195-217 which is available at Jay Guin’s website–see also his posts on Baptist Sacramentalism and the work of Stan Fowler). This movement has embraced a Calvinian sacramental theology. Indeed, the Baptist World Alliance has come to some agreement with the World Alliance of Reformed Churches on the meaning of baptism.
There are a growing number of Southern Baptists who are moving in this direction as well though they are reticent about sacramental language. Their linguistic hesitation is rooted in some of the same qualms and perceived baggage that is also current among historic and contemporary Churches of Christ. Nevertheless, there is a recognition that Southern Baptist practice has de-emphasized baptism. The most significant evidence of this shift is Broadman & Holman’s 2006 Believer’s Baptism: Sign of the New Covenant in Christ, edited by Thomas R. Schreiner and Shawn D. Wright.
Churches of Christ are more open in recent years to moving back to Alexander Campbell’s own original Calvinian understanding of the instrumentality of baptism as a means of grace. Campbell’s baptismal theology articulated an instrumental understanding of baptismal grace but at the same time valued character more than ritual and mercy more than sacrifice. A living faith that exhibited a transformed character was more important than the full enjoyment of assurance in baptism. However, few in mid-twentieth century Churches of Christ believed that faith without baptism was transformative. Baptism was regarded more like a line in the sand or, to mix the metaphor, a watershed moment.
“Convergence” (Stan Fowler’s word) or “rapprochement” (Caneday’s word in Believer’s Baptism, p. 304) is possible within the paradigm shift currently evidenced among some leaders of Churches of Christ and some Southern Baptists. In a paper entitled Consensus Tigurinus and a Baptismal Rapprochement Between Southern Baptists and Churches of Christ for the 2009 Christian Scholar’s Conference (which I have uploaded to my Academic page), I identified four points that are significant for this converging baptismal theology. I explored these in more detail in an earlier essay but in this new essay place them in the more specific context of discussion within the last decade. These four points are:
- Baptism is a normative part of the New Testament conversion narrative.
- Calvinian baptismal theology correctly identifies the soteriological significance of baptism as a means of grace.
- Baptism serves faith and is subordinate to faith’s soteriological function as baptism participates in the instrumentality of faith.
- Salvation, as a process of transformation into the image of Christ, gives baptism its theological importance and limits its soteriological significance.
As Southern Baptists move to recognize (1) & (2), Churches of Christ are increasingly recognizing (3) & (4)., convergence upon a biblical theology of baptismal grace is possible. While significant differences still remain (especially as Reformed notions of regeneration and election lie in the background of some of this theological shift among Southern Baptists), I am convinced a new consensus is possible with the self-conscious adoption of something akin to a credobaptist Calvinian baptismal theology—which, in my estimation, is a biblical theology. Southern Baptists and Churches of Christ have an opportunity to live in harmony, practice a shared biblical theology of baptism and together promote the kingdom of God for the sake of the world.
55 Comments | Church History, Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: Baptism, Calvin, Churches of Christ, Consensus Tigurinus, Sacramental Theology, Sacraments, Soteriology', Southern Baptists, Zwingli | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
October 28, 2008
“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.
25 Comments | Society, Theology | Tagged: Bible-2 Corinthians, Biden, Capitalism, Economic Justice, Economics, Election 2008, Giving, justice, Marx, Marxism, Money, Obama, Palin, Poor, Poverty, Rich, Socialism, Wealth, Wealth and Poverty | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
October 30, 2008
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.
16 Comments | Theology | Tagged: Betrayal, Bible-Luke, Condemantion, Denial, Disappointment, Forgiveness, God, Grace, Jesus, Peter, Punishment, Sadness, The Shack, William P. Young | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
November 7, 2008
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.
13 Comments | 
Society, Stone-Campbell | Tagged: Abortion, African American, Churches of Christ, Economic Justice, Election 2008, Ethnicity, McCain, Obama, Politics, Poor, Pro-Life, Race | 
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Posted by John Mark Hicks
November 11, 2008
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.
19 Comments | Pastoral Care, Spirituality, Theology | Tagged: Anger, Belovedness, Forgiveness, Grace, Hurt, Resentment, Revenge, Vengeance, Victim, Woundedness | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
November 30, 2008
Psalm 143
O Lord, hear my prayer, listen to my cry for mercy….
Do not bring your servant into judgment, for no one living is righteous before you…
So my spirit grows faint within me, my heart within me is dismayed…
I meditate on all your works and consider what your hands have done…
Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love…
Teach me to do you will, for you are my God….
In your unfailing love, silence my enemies…
One of the classic penitential psalms, Psalm 143 expresses a deep need to experience God’s unfailing love and mercy on the part of one whose depressed spirit is overwhelmed with the presence of enemies and self-condemnation. The Psalmist seeks a renewal of God’s grace and call in life after a season of sin and oppression from enemies. I don’t think it is too much of a stretch to say that this Psalm has something to share with those of us who yearn or have yearned for self-forgiveness. Self-forgiveness is my topic in this third installment on forgiveness.
There have been times when I wondered–not out loud, of course–whether verse 2 of Psalm 143 was simply an excuse. Do not bring your servant into judgment, for no one living is righteous before you. It can sound like “don’t judge me since everybody sins” or “everybody does it, what’s the big deal?” Today, however, I hear it more as a confession that I am human, a sinful human…just like everybody else. The cry for God’s mercy is also a cry for self-compassion…to give myself a break just as God gives me grace.
Self-forgiveness is a controversial topic. Many believe it is too tied to self-help and self-esteem pop psychology and that it is actually a reflection of pride and lack of faith. There is no text in Scripture which explicitly commands self-forgiveness, so it is said, and only God can forgive. Others, however, genuinely punish themselves by denying themselves self-compassion. They feel a need for self-forgiveness and their life is stuck in cycles of guilt, depression and self-hatred. I have been stuck in that cycle myself in the past–and it still raises its ugly head on occasion.
At one level self-forgiveness, in the strictest terms, is not what we need. What we need is divine forgiveness. What some call self-forgiveness is, I believe, actually the process of accepting God’s forgiveness and removing the barriers to that acceptance that burden our hearts. In this sense, I think, self-forgiveness is an expression of a biblical notion of self-love that is grounded in God’s gracious forgiveness and unfailing love. But we cannot receive and feel that grace if we erect walls between God and our true selves.
What hinders self-forgiveness? Here is a partial list and I’m sure others could add more out of their own experience. All of these we might list under the broad rubric of pride.
- unchanged behavior–we continue the sinful behaviors even when we don’t want to
- given our past failures we fear that we will do them again
- burying our unresolved guilt that becomes a festering wound
- “fixing it” by doing good stuff to restore the balance
- perfectionism–our expectation that we are better than that; we should have know better!
- lack of trust in God’s love, feeling unworthy of love
- no experience in grace–we have been judged by others and we habitually judge others
- self-anger and self-hatred over past behaviors which leads to self-punishment
If self-forgiveness is actually the acceptance of God’s gracious movement toward our real selves, then it is fundamentally about relationship with God, about being with God and accepting his love. Here is a partial list of what that might entail as we move from intellectual acceptance of grace to the authentic experience of grace in our hearts that yields self-forgiveness through a healthy self-love because of what God has done and who he is.
- confession of sin to God and trusting the promise of forgiveness (e.g, 1 John 1:9)
- seeking transformation through spiritual disciplines instilling a hope for recovery
- recognizing our unrealistic perfectionistic expectations (let go of self-anger)
- mutual confession of sin in a supportive, safe community of believers
- making amends to those we have hurt
- accept responsibility for sin and its consequences (let go of “making up” for sin)
- contemplative prayer on the nature of God who is full of mercy, compassion and love
- meditation and visualization of God’s word to us: “you are beloved”
Should we forgive ourselves? Yes, but not because this arises out of our own self-will, self-esteem or self-worth. Rather, we forgive ourselves because God has already forgiven us and we have accepted that forgiveness which gives us worth, joy and authentic love. We forgive ourselves because God is greater than our hearts and he has received us as one of his children whom he loves.
Our need for self-forgiveness is generated by our prideful rejection of God’s forgiveness–our pride that somehow we think we know ourselves better than God does! Such pride is expressed in words like–whichI have said to myself though I intellectually knew better–”How can God forgive me of that when I knew better?!” After all–my mind thinks–if you really knew me, you would not forgive me either, and thus it is hard for me to believe that God forgives me or that anyone else could forgive me. Yet, he does. And others have as well. This is the wonder of grace, the joy of being loved even when I feel unloveable. Paradoxically, it is pride that refuses to accept, internalize and authentically feel that love. Grace–the active, dynamic, experiential love of God–can heal woundness if we will but open our hearts to it and let go of the pride. The movement from pride to acceptance is a process, a journey of faith, through which God heals us and transforms us into his own likeness.
So, strictly, I suppose we do not forgive ourselves but rather God forgives us, and when we accept that forgiveness deep within our guts, then we can let go of the self-punishment, self-hatred, and fear of failure. We are then equipped, by God’s grace, to give to others what God has given to us.
13 Comments | Pastoral Care, Personal, Spirituality | Tagged: Bible-Psalms, Confession, Forgiveness, Grace, Judgmentalism, Love, Perfectionism, Pride, Self-love | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
December 7, 2008
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…..
16 Comments | Pastoral Care, Personal, Theology | Tagged: Anger, Bible-Job, Bitterness, Forgiveness, God, Lament, Pain, Praise, Resentment, Suffering, Thanksgiving, Theodicy | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
December 22, 2008
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.
14 Comments | Church History, Stone-Campbell | Tagged: Arminianism, Arminius, Atonement, Calvinism, Churches of Christ, Faith, Guy N. Woods, Justification, K. C. Moser, Limborch, Merit, R. C. Bell, Remonstrant Brotherhood, Stone-Campbell | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
December 11, 2008
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.
- 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”).
- 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.
- 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?
- 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).
- 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.
- 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.
- 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?
- 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.
- 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.
28 Comments | Pastoral Care, Personal, Spirituality | Tagged: Contemplation, Envy, Forgiveness, Forgiving God, Hurt, Meditation, Pain, Prayer, Resentment, Spirituality, Suffering | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
December 9, 2008
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.
3 Comments | Pastoral Care, Theology | Tagged: Bitterness, Forgiveness, Forgiving God, Pain, Praise, Rebellion, Suffering, Tragedy, Transformation, Woundedness | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
December 16, 2008
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.
1 Comment | Theology | Tagged: Atonement, Christmas, Christology, Empathy, Humility, Incarnation, Jesus, Presence | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
December 17, 2008
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.
5 Comments | Spirituality | Tagged: Beauty, Contemplation, Contemplative Prayer, E. H. Ijams, God, Holiness, Love, Meditation, Prayer, Purposes, Spirituality, Truth, Worship | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
January 1, 2009
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:
“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.
11 Comments | Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: Austin McGary, Churches of Christ, Daniel Sommer, David Lipscomb, Division, Fellowship, J. N. Armstrong, James A. Harding, Right Hand of Fellowship, Stone-Campbell, Stone-Campbell Movement, Unity | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
December 24, 2008
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.
14 Comments | Stone-Campbell | Tagged: Assembly, Bible, Bible Reading, Christians, Denominations, Fellowship, Giving, James A. Harding, Means of Grace, Poor, Prayer, Salvation, Sanctification, Sects, Stone-Campbell, Stone-Campbell Movement | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
December 28, 2008
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**
12 Comments | Biblical Texts, Pastoral Care, Personal, Spirituality | Tagged: Bible-Isaiah, Divorce, God, Grace, Joshua Mark Hicks, Name, Sheila Pettit Hicks, Workaholism | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
January 4, 2009
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.
20 Comments | Hermeneutics, Stone-Campbell | Tagged: CEI, Churches of Christ, Daniel Sommer, David Lipscomb, Ecclesiology, Hermeneutics, James A. Harding, Laying on Hands, Patternism, Polity, Right Hand of Fellowship, Stone-Campbell, Stone-Campbell Movement | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
January 8, 2009
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.
13 Comments | Hermeneutics, Personal, Theology | Tagged: Bible-Hosea, Bible-Matthew, Grace, Hermeneutics, Mercy, Ritual, Sabbath, Sacrifice | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
January 12, 2009
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.”
20 Comments | Books, Stone-Campbell | Tagged: Churches of Christ, Conservative, Division, Doctrine, Faith, Fellowship, Hermeneutics, Opinion, Salvation, Todd Deaver, Traditional, Unity | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
January 13, 2009
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.
23 Comments | Stone-Campbell | Tagged: Churches of Christ, Firm Foundation, Foy E. Wallace, Freed-Hardeman University, George DeHoff, Gospel Advocate, Harding University, J. N. Armstrong, N. B. Hardeman, Stone-Campbell, Tennessee Tradition, Texas Tradition | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
January 15, 2009
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.”
25 Comments | Stone-Campbell | Tagged: Churches of Christ, Firm Foundation, Foy E. Wallace, George Benson, Harding University, Holy Spirit, J. N. Armstrong, Miracles, Nashville Bible School, Premillennialism, Providence, Rebaptism, Stone-Campbell, Stone-Campbell Movement, Tennesee Tradition, Texas Tradition | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
January 19, 2009
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.
16 Comments | Stone-Campbell | Tagged: African American, Christian Church, Churches of Christ, Disciples of Christ, Division, Fellowship, Institutional, Instrumental Music, Kentucky, Noninstitutional, Stone-Campbell, Winchester | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
January 27, 2009
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.
5 Comments | Biblical Texts | Tagged: Bible-Luke, Parable, Persistent Widow, Prayer, Unjust Judge | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
January 28, 2009
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
3 Comments | Theology | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
January 29, 2009
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
- 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?
- 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?
- What are some of your family faith traditions that identify you and draw you together as a family in the Lord?
- 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.
3 Comments | Spirituality | Tagged: Christology, Discipleship, Faith, Family, Jesus | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
January 30, 2009
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.
35 Comments | Stone-Campbell | Tagged: Austin McGary, Baptism, Churches of Christ, Daniel Sommer, David Lipscomb, Firm Foundation, Gospel Advocate, J. D. Tant, James A. Harding, Rebaptism, Stone-Campbell, Tennessee Tradition, Texas Tradition | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 1, 2009
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.
8 Comments | Church History | Tagged: Church History, Description, Discernment, Family of Origin, Historical Theology, Humility, Illumination | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 3, 2009
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:
- Do you think Jesus “needed” those times alone with the Father? What did he “need” and why did he “need” them?
- 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?
- 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.
- Share with the group what practices or routines you have found helpful? What helps you ignore the distractions and focus on being with God?
8 Comments | Spirituality | Tagged: Busy-ness, Christology, Desert, Discipleship, Jesus, Meditation, Prayer, Solitude, Spirituality, Wilderness | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 17, 2009
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.
7 Comments | Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: Baptism, Churches of Christ, David Lipscomb, Faith, Firm Foundation, George W. Savage, Gospel Advocate, James A. Harding, Obedience, Rebaptism, Remission of Sins, Tennessee Tradition, Texas Tradition | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 5, 2009
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.
2 Comments | Biblical Texts, Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: C. E. W. Dorris, Churches of Christ, Cled Wallace, Eschatology, Grace, Holy Spirit, Homiletics, James A. Harding, Lord's Supper, Millennialism, Nashville Bible School, Pacifism, Pneumatology, Premillennialism, R. H. Boll, Sermons, Stone-Campbell, Table, Tennessee Tradition, Texas Tradition | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 5, 2009
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.
24 Comments | Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: Cecil May, Churches of Christ, Faith, G. C. Brewer, Grace, Hermeneutics, Humility, Jr., Legalism, Patternism | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 6, 2009
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.
25 Comments | Hermeneutics, Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: Alexander Campbell, Ancient Order, Christian Baptist, Churches of Christ, Fellowship, Grace, J. D. Thomas, Noninstitutional, Patternism, Restoration, Restorationism, We Be Brethren | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 8, 2009
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.
- 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?
- 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.
- 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?
- 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.
6 Comments | Biblical Texts | Tagged: Amazement, Astonishment, Bible-Mark, Christology, Discipleship, Doctrine, Fear, Gospel, Jesus, Miracles, Teaching | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 9, 2009
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.
13 Comments | Hermeneutics, Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: CEI, Churches of Christ, Grace, Hermeneutics, J. D. Thomas, K. C. Moser, Legalism, Noninstsitutional, Patternism, R. C. Bell, Restorationism, Stone-Campbell, Tennessee Tradition, Texas Tradition | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 12, 2009
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.
17 Comments | Hermeneutics, Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: Christology, Churches of Christ, Ecclesiology, Hermeneutics, Jesus, Ministry of Jesus, Patternism | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 10, 2009
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. :-)
5 Comments | Church History, Pastoral Care, Theology | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 11, 2009
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?
2 Comments | Spirituality | Tagged: Accountability, Christology, Feelings, Friends, Intimacy, Jesus, Prayer, Secrets, small groups, Transfiguration | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
April 17, 2009
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.]
14 Comments | Hermeneutics, Theology | Tagged: Antinomianism, Faith, Grace, Legalism, Libertinism, Patternism, Perfectionism, Salvation, Sanctification, Soteriology', Transformation | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 14, 2009
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.
5 Comments | Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: Baptism, David Lipscomb, Faith, Grace, James A. Harding, Moral Law, Patternism, Perfectionism, Positive Law, Stone-Campbell, Tennessee Tradition | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 18, 2009
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.
17 Comments | Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: Baptism, Christology, Churches of Christ, David Lipscomb, Fellowship, George W. Savage, Grace, Hermeneutics, Obedience, Rebaptism, Remission of Sins, Restoration Movement, Salvation, Stone-Campbell | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 19, 2009
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.
4 Comments | Biblical Texts, Church History, Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: 2 Timothy, Alexander Campbell, Baptism, Basel, Bern, Collegiants, Comfort, Enlightenment, Grief, Job, Netherlands, Postmillennialism, Puritans, Sacraments, Stone-Campbell, Zwingli | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 24, 2009
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.
5 Comments | Biblical Texts, Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: Assurance, Bible-Ephesians, Bible-Hebrews, Churches of Christ, Faith, Fellowship, Grace, Justification, Sanctification, Works | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 25, 2009
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.
19 Comments | Stone-Campbell | Tagged: Churches of Christ, Faith, Foy E. Wallace, G. C. Brewer, Grace, Guy N. Woods, James A. Harding, Jr., Justification, K. C. Moser, Plan of Salvation, Tennessee Tradition, Texas Tradition, Works | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 20, 2009
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.
19 Comments | Biblical Texts | Tagged: Assembly, Bible-Corinthians, Gender, Silence, Women | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 23, 2009
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.
14 Comments | Stone-Campbell | Tagged: Stone-Campbell, Alexander Campbell, Baptism, Holy Spirit, Pneumatology, Salvation, Faith, Justification, Baptists, Restoration Movement, Soteriology', Experience, Andrew Broaddus, Robert B. Semple, Southern Baptists | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 27, 2009
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:
- 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.)
- 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?
- 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?
- 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”?
8 Comments | Spirituality | Tagged: Apprentice, Bible-Acts, Bible-Luke, Christology, Church, Ecclesiology, Gospel, Jesus, Kingdom, Mission, Missional | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
February 26, 2009
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.
13 Comments | Fun | Tagged: Baseball, Florida, John Mark Hicks, Spring Training | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
March 4, 2009
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.
9 Comments | Stone-Campbell | Tagged: Austin McGary, Baptists, Churches of Christ, Confession, David Lipscomb, E. G. Sewell, Firm Foundation, G. C. Brewer, Gospel, Gospel Advocate, Plan of Salvation, Rebaptism, Tennessee Tradition, Texas Tradition | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
March 5, 2009
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.
1 Comment | Biblical Texts, Church History, Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: Alabama, Alexander Campbell, Bible-2 Peter, Bible-Matthew, Compassion, David Lipscomb, Education, Gospel Advocate, Inspiration, J. M. Barnes, J. W. McGarvey, Ministerial Education, Ministry of Jesus, Scripture, Stone-Campbell, Tennessee Tradition, Tertullian | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
March 2, 2009
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:
- What Unites Us (1 Corinthians 1).
- What Might Divide Us (1 Corinthians 3-4).
- Community Standards (1 Corinthians 5).
- Community Ethics (1 Corinthians 6).
- Healthy Marriages (1 Corinthians 7).
- When Love is More Important Than Knowledge (1 Corinthians 8).
- When Others are More Important Than My Rights (1 Corinthians 9).
- No Presumption: The Lord’s Supper and Ethics (1 Corinthians 10).
- Male and Female in the Worship Assembly (1 Corinthians 11:3-10).
- Whose Meal is This? The Lord’s Supper or Ours? (1 Corinthians 17:17-34).
- Body Language: Whose Job Is It Anyway? (1 Corinthians 12).
- Love Language: Love Heals Disunity (1 Corinthians 13).
- Worship: Rational, Emotional or Both? (1 Corinthians 14:1-25).
- Order Rather than Chaos in the Worship Assembly (1 Corinthians 14:26-40).
- The Gospel: Our Foundation and Hope (1 Corinthians 15:1-19).
- 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.
1 Comment | Biblical Texts, Theology | Tagged: Assembly, Bible-Corinthians, Bible-Titus, Church Leadership, Church Polity, Corinthians, Deacons, Elders, Evangelists, Fellowship, Gender, Leadership, Organization, Pastoral Epistles, Sound Doctrine, Titus, Unity, Women | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks
