Salvation: Quadrant 1

What is salvation?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ultimately, relationships are broken, strained and hostile. This includes relationship with the self, community (society), the cosmos and God. The personal focus of “Justification” is healing our personal relationship with God. Relationship is restored and communion renewed through the forgiveness of sins (or non-imputaton of sin) and the imputation of righteouenss (Romans 4; 2 Corinthians 5).

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

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

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

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

A “Comprehensive” Perspective on Salvation

What is salvation?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, John Mark

All Saints Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alexander Campbell’s Demonology Lecture in Nashville (1841)

Returning to some of my historical interests (which is probably not shared by many ), I have always been fascinated with Alexander Campbell’s take on the “spiritual system” as he called it, particularly demonology.

Campbell presented a major addresson the topic of demonology to the Popular Lecture Club in Nashville, Tennessee on March 10, 1841 (published in the Millennial Harbinger [October 1841] 457-480). He also conducted an extensive correspondance with M. Winans on the topic in 1841-1842 as Winans responded to the lecture. The lecture and subsequent correspondance are available online.

The address was printed in book form as An Address on Demonology: Delivered Before the Popular Lecture Club, Nashville, Tenn in Bloomington, Indiana, by C. G. Berry in 1851 (32 pages). The essay later appeared in Popular Lectures and Addresses by Alexander Campbell published by the Christian Publishing Company in St. Louis (1861). The essays were republished by Standard Publishing in Cincinnati (1863) and by James Challen of Philadelphia, PA (1863, 1864, 1866).

Campbell visited Nashville six times, as far as I can discover. His first visit was in Feb-March 1827, his second in December 1830, and the third in March 1835. In March 1841 he was engaged in his fourth visit to Nashville when he gave his address on Demonology, and would later return again in November 1854 for his fifth visit, and then in April 1858 for his final visit to Nashville.

Campbell highly praised the church in Nashville. Under the leadership of P.S. Fall, the First Baptist Church had removed themselves from the Concord Association in 1825 but renewed that relationship in 1827 on the condition that they could pursue a reformation on the grounds of the New Testament alone (see their letter to the Association published in Christian Baptist). This letter to the Association was sent after Campbell’s first visit in 1827. The church had recently begun to meet weekly to break bread.

During Campbell’s second visit he engaged the Presbyterian pastor Obadiah Jennings in an oral discussion. He reports that the church, still led by P. S. Fall, numbered 250 at the time. “This christian congregation,” he writes, “is so far advanced in the reformation as to meet every Lord’s day, to remember the Lord’s death and resurrection, to continue in the Apostles’ doctrine, in the fellowship, breaking of bread, and in prayers and praises.”

During his third visit to Nashville, he stayed for three weeks with the Nashville church which numbered “about six hundred members” (which probably includes the county and/or region itself or perhaps a mistaken estimation; however, Eastin Morris’ Tennessee Gazetter 1834 reports that the church had “456” members “of which 280 were colored”). Tolbert Fanning was its evangelist (see MH, June 1835). He stayed with Henry Ewing who was a frequent contributor to MH.

When he visited Nashville again in early 1841 Campbell was in the process of publishing two series of essays—a polemical discussion with Barton W. Stone on the atonement and another series on the “Coming of the Lord.” In addition, he was preparing for the beginning of Bethany College in the Fall. Apparently, this was a significant reason for his tour through Cincinnati, Louisville, Nashville and then through central Kentucky (including Hopkinsville, Bowling Green, and Lexington). The Nashville Whig (March 8, 1841, p. 2) reports that Campbell mould make “an appeal to-night on behalf of the cause of Education and the claims of his new College at Bethany, Va., in the Reformed Baptist Church.”

Of course, Campbell also took the occasion to teach on the Christian system while in Nashville as reported by C. C. Norvell in the Nashville Whig (March 1, 1841), p. 2: “This gentleman, discoursed on the principles of Christianity, in the Reformed Baptist Church, in the forenoon of yesterday, and again at night. His sermons attract large crowds, and we may add, without pretending to pass upon the merits of his theory, that his compliment is not undeserved. We have rarely listened to a more finished or impressive argument, from the pulpit, than the discourse of last night. The distinct enunciation and Scottish accent of Mr. C. renders his delivery eminently pleasing.”

His trip through Nashville in 1841, however, receives no notice in Richardson’s memoirs. And though Campbell reflects on the general state of the churches in Louisville, Nashville and Cincinnati in his “Excursions—No. I” and “Excursions—No. II” (MH, May & June, 1841), he offers few details about his time in Nashville.

It was during this 1841 visit that he gave his public address on demonology on March 10 before the “Literary Club” at the Masonic Hall in Nashville. The speech was announced in the Nashville Whig on Friday, March 5. On the day of the scheduled address the following announcement appeared (Nashville Whig, March 10, 1841, p. 2): “Mr. Alexander Campbell, lectures tonight, by invitation of the Literary Club: his subject—Demonology and Witchcraft. The Club, we understand, have provided extra seats for the audience, so that the entire Hall, including the rostrum, can be occupied.” Apparently, they were expecting a large crowd.

Given that he only had a few days to prepare this lecture, the topic he chose is a curious one. The reason for his choice is evident from his applications in the essay itself. He understands the position that demons are the spirits of dead humans as subversive of any materialistic notions, that is, it is a response to infidelity. It is, Campbell writes, “proof of a spiritual system” and “a full refutation of that phantasm called Materialism.”

Here is the report of the speech that appeared in the Nashville Whig, March 12, 1841, p. 2:

“The somewhat novel subject of Demonology was discussed on Wednesday night, with much good taste and profound learning by Mr. Alexander Campbell, of Virginia. His argument was chiefly directed to the original and true office of the term Demon, as recognized in the Divine Scriptures, in contradistinction to its use by the early Greek poets, and its meaning as employed in modern times. The whole subject was treated as a theory of spirits, the learned lecturer entertaining the doctrine, as we understood him, that the disembodied spirits of the just, as well as the damned, exercise a decided though mysterious influence over the actions and destinies of the living. All are demons, in the original sense of the term, there being demons of good as well as demons of evil—the latter the subjects and especial instruments of the Prince of Darkness, Baelzeebub. The supersititons of ghosts, hobgoblins and appirations, were duly divested of their corporeal and incorporeal horrors, “raw herd, bloody bones” and all, and the doctrine of witchcraft treated as an idle fancy of the brain. The victims of these follies, in all ages, were referred to in a happy vein of sarcasm, and their manifold mental sufferings depicted with a fancy that proved that the distinguished lecturer has humor for the ridiculous as well as taste for the sublime.

To say that the lecture, as a whole, was highly creditable to the scholarship of Mr. Campbell, would be doing but half way justice to a very eloquent and finished production. As a “stranger in a strange land,” he merits the unqualified eulogy due to one whose acknowledged skill as a public debater and profound acumen as a critic, are not les distinguished in a literary, than in a theological point of view.”

The problem of materialism is lingering in Campbell’s mind. Since his last trip to Nashville, John Thomas emerged as a schismatic leader who affirmed a form of materialism regarding the state of the dead. As Thomas’ materialism became clear, Campbell was pressured by those inside (e.g., Winans) and outside the Stone-Campbell Movement (e.g., the Virginia Baptist Andrew Broaddus) to disavow his views. The proof of a “spiritual system” and of the conscious spirits of dead persons is partly a response to Thomas and insulates the movement from Thomas’ defection. Thomas was ultimately the founder of the Christadelphians. Campbell wrote a series of articles entitled “Materialism” in the September-December issues of the 1836 MH.

Campbell’s argument for a spiritual system would later be replaced, in Nashville, by a universalistic spiritualism in the person of Jesse B. Ferguson who came to Nashville in 1846 as the minister of the 350 member Spring Street church. It grew to 550, moved into a new building and then the church collapsed—both spiritually, numerically and physically. The numbers dwindled from 1855-1857, the new building burned in 1857, and ultimately Ferguson became persona non grata, dying in isolation from the church and city in 1870 (only three carriages followed his coffin to Mt. Olivet cemetery). It was in the context of the Ferguson affair that Campbell made his fifth visit to Nashville in 1854. He was not permitted to speak in Ferguson’s building. (His last visit to Nashville was in April 1858, according to Norton, Tennessee Christians, p. 80.)

In 1857 the reconstituted Spring Street church began anew in the old Spring Street building with 15 members (calling back P.S. Fall who had left the city for KY in 1831 when the membership was 250 members). Also the South College Street church began in 1857 with 3 in attendance as David Lipscomb preached the first sermon for the new community. By the end of the Civil War these two congregations represented 500 members (Hooper, Crying in the Wilderness, 203).

Campbell’s demonology essay, then, represents a middle ground between two historic controversies within the early Stone-Campbell Movement. Campbell battled the materialism of John Thomas on one end and battled the spiritualism of Jesse Ferguson on the other. In both cases the beginnings of the controversies were cloaked in titanic egos and ended with disastrous results. Nevertheless, the sage of Bethany won the day and his perspective prevailed within the movement.

This topic was apparently of great interest for Campbell. While the demonology essay evidences his interest in it as a response to infidelity, he also was interested in the topic from the standpoint of divine providence. This is not as evident in his Demonology essay as it is other writings, such as:

• “The Spiritual Universe–No. I.” MH, Fourth Series, 1 (February 1851): 64-66.
• “The Spiritual Universe–No. II. Angels and Demons–No. I.” MH, Fourth Series, 1 (February 1851): 66-70.
• “The Spiritual Universe–No. III. Angels and Demons–No. II.” MH, Fourth Series, 1 (March 1851): 121-126.
• “The Spiritual Universe–No. IV. Angels and Demons–No. III.” MH, Fourth Series, 1 (April 1851): 181-187.
• “The Spiritual Universe–No. V. Angels and Demons–No. IV.” MH, Fourth Series, 1 (May 1851): 241-244.

In particular, he is quite willing to speculate that God takes the lives of young ministers because he needs them to fulfill some role as good angels (“Mysteries of Providence,” MH [1847], 707).

Another interesting dimension of the essay is Campbell’s openness to the intersection of the spiritual world and this one. It is the power of the gospel that dissipates demon possession, but where the gospel has not yet gone demons still have that power. This has tremendous implications for missions and for what are called in the contemporary context “power encounters.”

More significantly, Campbell refuses to permit the Enlightenment (infidelity in his language) to dismiss the influence that the spiritual world has on the actions and lives of people. “That we are susceptible of impressions and suggestions from invisible agents sometimes affecting our passions and actions,” he writes, “it were foolish and infidel to deny.” The spiritual world is not boxed off from the material world. Rather, God uses both good and evil spirits to influence and act within the material world. The essay is part of Campbell’s rejection of Deism and the affirmation of God’s ever present action in the world through the spiritual system.

The “spiritual system” or “universe” is an essential affirmation of the Christian system for Campbell. It opposes Deism and infidelity. But it is not a spiritualism that denies the efficacy and sufficiency of the gospel itself. The facts of the gospel dissipate the ignorance of a world caught up in spiritualism (e.g., divination through demons) and they liberate us from the tyranny of the evil powers in the universe. Science did not accomplish this, though it aided our knowledge of God’s other book—the book of nature. Only the gospel can liberate us from that ignorance and tyranny so that we might live in the freedom of the Holy Guest (Spirit) who indwells us.

In this context, Campbell’s essay on Demonology is a kind of “back door” statement of the gospel against Enlightenment skepticism and Deism (infidelity). The essay, then, forms part of his case for the “Evidences of Christianity” (a series he began in the 1835 and a course he just began teaching at Bethany College).

Who is Wise and Understanding Among You (James 3:13)?

The letter of James, full of practical and proverbial wisdom, appears in the context of a factious struggle between wealthy and impoverished members of James’ faith community.

The tension between the rich and the poor pervades the epistle and is one of the central themes that the letter addresses. James encourages the community of faith to recognize God’s preference for the poor (James 2:5), the spirituality of a life of benevolence and inclusion (James 1:27; 2:8-9), the practicalities of living under the will of God rather than the drive for wealth (James 4:13-18), and the godliness of paying fair wages as well as the hideousness of hoarded wealth (James 5:1-6).

When James, then, asks the question that titles this post he is asking more than simply “who are the good people among you?” It is about finding some solid footing in the midst of an economic and power divide. It is about rooting oneself in the kind of wisdom that bears the likeness of God rather than the brokenness of humanity. It is also, it seems, about leadership in the midst of communal disorder and bitterness.

“Who is wise and understanding among you?” Both “wise” and “understanding” are words that described skilled and expert people. They were persons invested with knowledge; they were scientifically versed. They were, as these terms were used among Greek philosophers, the scholars. They were the people in-the-know and with the know-how.

James’ question might be something like, who should be the teachers of this community? Who is worth following and imitating? Who should mentor us?

But James immediately twists the language away from any kind of ancient educated scholarship (those lovers of wisdom, the philosophers) toward a lifestyle characterized by the fruits of God’s Spirit.

Wisdom shows up in a changed life; it shows up in transformation. What characterizes this life? It is those who show their good works out of a good lifestyle (conduct, way of life) that is characterized by wisdom’s meekness or humility. James prefers a person with life-shaping wisdom rather than an academician. Wisdom is not what you know but how you live.

“Knowledge is proud that she knows so much;
             Wisdom is humble that she knows no more.”
                            William Cowpers

But there is another kind of wisdom. Its roots, deeply planted in the heart, are envy and selfish ambition. “Selfish ambition” is the word used for political partisanship. It describes people who hold or seek positions of power for their own ends or interests.

This bitter envy and selfish ambition are the two character traits that lead to the negative consequences below: disorder and vile (useless) practices. These two traits wreck havoc in a community, a marriage, a partnership, a leadership. They destroy us from the inside—insidious heart problems that lie hidden beneath the outward boast and lie. Something is broken deep inside.

Sometimes we hear that zeal (even a bitter zeal that goes after what it wants even if someone else has it) and ambition (even if it means that we have to walk on a few people to get there) are laudable qualities. They are what make a “good worker”—they produce a good work ethic. Actually, they produces a workaholic.

The workaholic does not work for the sake of helping the community, the family or the church. That is a boastful lie. Sometimes the workaholic does not even know it. Having lived with the lie for so long, workaholics are deceived by their own protestations that it is for family, community or church. The workaholic works because of what lies deep in the heart—an ambition, a need for approval, an envy of what others have, a desire for the accolades that others receive, a greed for money, etc.

When people live out of envy and selfishness, it creates an “unruly” or unmanagable life. This word sometimes refers to seditious violence. It is disorder and confusion; it is a violent upheaval. An “unruly” tongue (3:8) leads to an “unruly life” that arises out of selfish and envious hearts. And it results is “evil practice.” This is the kind of evil that is cheap, trivial, worthless. It is meaningless and without real value. It is cruel and heartless. It is ultimately useless and self-serving.

There is, however, an alternative lifestyle. It arises out of the wisdom “from above”—it is pure, peaceable, gentle, submissive (yielding to others), full of mercy and good fruits, without vacillating (genuine), and without hypocrisy (sincere). It begins with purity (spiritual integrity) and yields attitudes and characteristics that connect with others as we live submissively, mercifully and peacefully with others. It is an integrated character—a wholeness that is genuine, sincere, merciful, submissive, gentle and peaceful in relation to others—that displays good fruits (or the good deeds of 3:13).

This person, shaped by divine wisdom, sows peace and harvests peace. They are peacemakers (Matthew 5:9); they are called the children of God.

Two wisdoms—two lifestyles. One from below, and the other from above. The wisdom from below is earthy, sensual and demonic. It is earthy—it is its own reward. It is sensual—it feels natural. It is demonic—it participates in unruly powers. The “wisdom” of envy and selfishness is shaped by earthly rewards, humanistic impulses and demonic powers. It creates disorder; it creates brokenness. It appears good. It even sounds good at times. But that life is a lie—a lie to ourselves, to our families, to our communities.

Two lifestyles—one choice. Do we seek to live out of humble meekness or do we live out of envious ambition? What is in our heart? Who are we? Which “wisdom” energizes our life, values and loves?

Earlier in the letter, James counseled his community to seek wisdom from God. “If any of you lacks wisdom,” he wrote, “you should ask God who gives generously to all without finding faulty” (James 1:5). The gift of wisdom comes “from above” (James 1:17).

But our asking is often tainted. We ask in doubt. We ask out of selfish ambition. We ask in envy. We ask because it is about us. And we stay in our busyness and our busyness feeds our ambition and envy. We are then caught in a vicious cycle of superficial spirituality: we ask, but we ask “with wrong motives” (James 4:3). We are too busy to focus, too busy to seek God’s wisdom, too busy to pray. We have too much to do, too many places to go, and too little time to do it.

What we need is for God to fill our hearts with his wisdom. We need time to pray, meditate, confess and listen. We need time to be alone with God and to be with others in intimate conversation about our hearts. We need to rid ourselves of the idol of busyness and find our value, worth and love in the one who loved us.

“Who are the wise and understanding among you?” They are not necessarily the educated, the wealthy, the powerful. They are the quiet lives of wisdom lived out in good deeds moved by a gentle humility. Whether rich or poor, whether powerful or oppressed, the skill we want is the skill to live as peacemakers in a world of conflict.

Acts 2:42 – Practicing the Kingdom of God

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                 Karl Marx

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

                  Apostle Paul, 2 Corinthians 8:14-15

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus’ Eyes: Do You Know “the Look”?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a Difference a Century Makes

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

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

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

Change, indeed, has come to America!

Change has come to Churches of Christ as well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Forgiveness: Participating in the Divine Life

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

Matthew 6:12, 14-15

Mercy triumphs over judgment.

James 2:13b

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ephesians 4:32

Love covers a multitude of sins.

1 Peter 4:8

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

Forgiving God: From Praise to Bitterness to Comfort

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

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

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

From Praise

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

Shall we accept good from God and not trouble?

Job 1:21; 2:10

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

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

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

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

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

But…

To Bitterness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He resented everything, and Yahweh was responsible!

But….then something happened….

To Comfort

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

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

Job 42:6, 11b

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More to come…..

Arminianism on the Righteousness of Saving Faith

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

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

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

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

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

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

Forgiving God: A Testimony

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

Forgiving God: Processing the Movements of the Soul

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More to come…..

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

Christmas–The Incarnation of God

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Before Praying….

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

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

 1.  Quicken your conscience with the holiness of God.

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

2.  Feed your mind with the truth of God.

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

3.  Purge your imagination with the beauty of God.

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

4.  Open your heart to the love of God.

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

5.  Devote your will to the purposes of God.

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

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

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

“United, Yet Divided”: Understandable and Unavoidable

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Here is Armstrong’s article:

  

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Christians Among the Sects? James A. Harding Answers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

“I Will Change Your Name”

When you feel forsaken or rejected, 

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

when you feel inadequate or deficient,

when you feel unloved or unchosen,

hear the word of the Lord through Isaiah the prophet

Isaiah 62:2b,4,5b

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

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

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

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

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

Names Matter

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

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

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

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

My Names

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

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

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

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

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

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

God Changed My Name

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Controversies over Hands–Forgotten Debates

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

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

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

Laying on of Hands

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

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

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

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

Right Hand of Fellowship

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

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

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

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

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

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

No Division

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

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

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

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

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

Go figure. 

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

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

Mercy, Not Sacrifice: Sabbath Controversy in Matthew 12

A ”God of technicalities”?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Facing Our Failures: A Review

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Texas Vs. Tennessee (1939)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another Example: Texas and Tennessee Clash

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Division in the Stone-Campbell Movement: A Case Study

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More to come….

References

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More to come…..

 
References

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More to come….

References: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

References

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Texas Tradition

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

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

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

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

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

Conclusion

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

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

References

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unceasing Prayer: Parable of the Persistent Widow

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

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

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

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

Privilege or Silence? Where Did the Articles Go?

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

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

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

John Mark

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice I

Discipled in Family

Text: Luke 2:41-52

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Small Group Questions

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

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

Rebaptism: The Real Rub

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

References:

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

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

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

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

Why Care About Church History or Historical Theology?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice II

Shaped in Solitude

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Note:  Part I is available here.

Questions for Discussion:

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

Texas and Tenneseee Respond to a Baptism Question

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New Items

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

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

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

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

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

Patterns and Legalism: Commenting on an FHU Lecture

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amen!

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

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

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

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

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

Patterns, Legalism and Grace: Alexander Campbell

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reading the Gospel of Mark

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can listen to the sermon here.

Patterns, Legalism and Grace: J. D. Thomas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am a Patternist; Yes, Really!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New Items Posted

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

These are my offerings for today.  :-)

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice III

Shaped by Intimacy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you have people with whom….

you can express your deepest and most authentic feelings?

you can tell your darkest secrests?

you feel safe talking about your relationships?

you can confess sin?

you can let your guard down and be truly real?

 Questions:

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

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

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

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

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

When Patternism Subverts Grace

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patterns, Perfectionism, Grace and the Tennessee Tradition

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May God have mercy.

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

References

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

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

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

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

Comment on Rebaptism Articles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus, the Unlikely Apprentice IV

Living in Community

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Questions for Discussion:

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

New Items Posted: Baptism, Job, 2 Timothy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Book Reviews.

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

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

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

Grace, Assurance and Fellowship: New Items Posted

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

G. C. Brewer on Grace

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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