RetroChristianity

New Site for RetroChristianity

2012-01-05T07:54:00.000-08:00

This will be the last official post on my Blogger site. As of today, I have officially moved www.retrochristianity.com and www.retrochristianity.org to a new site, set up with articles and essays for reference in conjunction with the upcoming book, RetroChristianity. All of the biblical, theological, historical, practical (and even humorous) content from this blog has been organized and preserved on the new site. Some of the more personal items have not be preserved. The retrochristianity.com site will ultimately be less and less about things written by and about me and more about supplementing and discussing the ideas introduced in RetroChristianity. I am in the process of gathering other trustworthy contributors to that site as well.

This blog will not go away completely. I have decided to keep www.svigel.com pointed to this location for the time being. I will likely develop this more in a personal direction, allowing myself the freedom to make brief, personal, blog-like comments on issues. Because I have moved content to www.retrochristianity.com, I will likely start dropping mirrored content from this site. This might be a little disorienting for those trying to find archive materials. Links will be broken. But anything worth keeping is still available at the other site and can easily be found with a simple browse or search.

The other site is still a work in progress. The design, features, and content will be evolving over the next few months. I hope to have it fully functional and well-designed by March, 2012, just in time for the release of the book in April. Please have a look around and give me your feedback prior to March.

I want to thank all of you who have stuck with me over the last several years on my Blogger site, first when it was SvigeLand and then when it became the first version of RetroChristianity. Your support, encouragement, comments, and feedback kept me writing . . . which helped me organize my thoughts and produce a small corpus of punchy essays . . . which made writing the book, based largely on the ideas of this blog, immensely easier.

---Mike Svigel

RetroChristianity Excerpt (Part 2 of 8)

2011-12-11T20:22:00.000-08:00

From Chapter 6, The Third Canon of RetroOrthodoxy: Some Things Grow Clear through Trial and Error

[continued from earlier post]

The Benjamin Button Syndrome (Extreme Primitivism)

The film The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (based on a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald) tells an intriguing story of a man born with all the signs of extreme old age—wrinkles, arthritis, frailness, senility. Over the course of his life, Benjamin grows progressively younger, passing through the normal stages of human growth in reverse. From old age, to midlife, to young adulthood, to teenage years, to childhood—he eventually regresses into infancy, ending his life where the rest of us begin it.

This fantastic tale illustrates the condition of extreme primitivism common among many evangelicals, which I call “the Benjamin Button Syndrome.” This refers to Christians who would like nothing more than to return to a past form of Christianity, turning back the clock of development that has occurred over the previous centuries. Like a writer who is utterly dissatisfied with the path her novel has taken might revert to a previous version of the story and take it in another direction, many Christians want to undo the course of Christian history, returning to a better past.

Bryan Singer’s film, Superman Returns, illustrates this well. When Singer sought to jump-start the burned-out Superman series for the twenty-first century, he surveyed the previous four Superman films starring Christopher Reeve and, like most fans, decided the low-budget Superman III and IV simply didn’t measure up to the first two films. What did he do about it? Singer proceeded as if parts three and four had never been made! In other words, Superman Returns was produced as the Superman III that should have been.

Let me state this unequivocally: RetroChristianity is not in favor of literally returning to past forms of Christianity. To avoid misunderstanding, let me put this another way. Evangelicals cannot embrace any ancient-future, primitivistic, or reactionary approaches to current Christian life and ministry that attempt to “go back” to an earlier era of Christian history as if the previous centuries hadn’t happened. Such an approach to Christianity is no more reasonable than trying to restore the feudal system, or bring back horse and buggy, or erase the medical breakthroughs over the last hundred years.

Even if “going back” were something we actually desired to do, without a time machine and a mechanism to erase our memories, it’s simply impossible. In fact, it’s even impossible for twenty-first century evangelicals to adopt the New Testament patterns of church and ministry. Why? Because our current historical, cultural, and theological context is radically different from that of the first century. We don’t have hand-selected apostles who were eye witnesses to the resurrection and ascension and who had absolute authority in the churches. That was the situation in the first century; it is not the situation today. Also, today we have a complete Old and New Testament canon, which the first century church didn’t have. The New Testament church described in the book of Acts is an era inaccessible to us. We can read about it and learn from it, but we cannot return to it. We must, of course, base our theology and ministry upon biblical principles, but we cannot always adopt New Testament patterns.

Nor should we favor an attempted return to the Patristic period—that era of the church that culminated in a clearly-defined orthodox doctrine of the Trinity, christology, sin, grace, a complete biblical canon, and an organized Christian identity in the world. Who would want to trade the mature theology hammered out in that era for an approach that tries to reinvent orthodoxy from scratch? Neither do we want to exchange our complete collection of Holy Scripture for a confusing open canon of generic early Christian writings. In other words, we want to build upon the advances made in the Patristic period, not demolish them.

We definitely don’t want to return to medieval Christendom. We should have no desire to revive the vast gulf between the church hierarchy and laypeople that alienated Christians from a mature faith and an informed piety. We don’t want to re-adopt a confusing sacramental system, a complex liturgical calendar, and a worldview that places each of us in a teetering uncertainty between heaven and hell. And none of us relish the idea of returning to a relationship between church and state that sanctioned the execution of heretics and the slaughter of infidels under the banner of the cross. (Few of us would last long under that system!) Instead, we desire to learn from the excesses of the medieval period, not relive them.

Similarly, we shouldn’t yearn for a return to the Protestant era—the age of the Reformers like Zwingli, Luther, and Calvin. Too often we forget that the major Reformers defined themselves, their theology, and their practice in direct contrast to medieval Roman Catholic errors. In so doing, they often “pendulum swung” by exaggerating some aspects of the Christian faith to the detriment of others. The medieval church exalted the altar and downplayed the pulpit; Protestants swung to the opposite extreme, downplaying the spiritual blessings associated with the Lord’s Supper. Roman Catholics emphasized tradition at the expense of Scripture; Protestants threw off the shackles of tradition, leaving the Bible open to almost any interpretation. The pope and his bishops emphasized their essential role in salvation at the expense of personal faith and conversion; Protestants downplayed the physical church and its leadership, emphasizing an individualistic and private approach to salvation and the Christian life. In other words, we should strive to reverse the overreaction of the Reformation, retrieving a balanced approach to faith and life.

Finally, none of us should seek a way to go back to the “good ol’ days” of fundamentalist evangelicalism. We should never desire to retreat from culture. I’m uninterested in whipping large crowds into a frenzy to manipulate them with psychological tricks or manmade methods of “revival.” We should be unimpressed by a movement that wants to fight about every detail of doctrine until it alienates even orthodox allies. In other words, we should strive to get over the militant and isolationist mentalities of early evangelicalism, focusing on advancing the kingdom in the twenty-first century.

In sum, RetroChristianity’s approach to reclaiming the forgotten faith is not the same as “returning to the past faith.” Rather, RetroChristianity advocates a conscious continuity with the past that incorporates the positive contributions of all eras—the Patristic, medieval, Protestant, and evangelical phases of the church, all in light of the biblical revelation. However, we must always strive to avoid the negative elements that also came from these periods.

I mentioned Singer’s Superman Returns as a Hollywood example of the Benjamin Button Syndrome. Let me give a contrasting Hollywood example that illustrates RetroChristianity’s approach to the past. When the brilliant filmmaker J. J. Abrams wanted to relaunch the Star Trek film series, he appeared to have two options. He could have produced a remake, starting the franchise afresh with new actors, like Christopher Nolan did with Batman Begins. Or he could have produced another sequel, somehow digging up the retired cast of the classic Star Trek series or building upon one of its many spin-offs (Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager, Enterprise). Instead, Abrams did something remarkable. He created a true sequel that simultaneously relaunched the series with a new cast playing the original characters. Through extreme cleverness (as well as a heavy dependence on intrusive time travel and a resulting alternate history), Abrams both honored the original story arc of all the television series and films while successfully reinventing the franchise for a new generation. That’s the approach of RetroChristianity. It’s not returning to the past, but retrieving the past for the present. It’s not rewinding to a more favorable era, but reclaiming the forgotten faith for the future.

[To be continued…]

Wort des Lebens Esra-Training 2012

2011-12-08T21:11:00.000-08:00

As my long-time readers of this blog know, since 2009 I have been teaching a course on the first 1000 years of Church History (Kirchengeschichte I) as a guest lecturer at the Wort des LebensEsra-Training (Word of Life Ezra Training) program in Heidesee, Germany, just outside of Berlin. The Esra-Training program is designed for young adults and includes training in Bible, doctrine, church history, and a strong emphasis on hands-on ministry. Those of you familiar with Word of Life in the U.S. already know this kind of ministry and the impact it has on the lives of young people. So I’m excited and honored to be involved even in this limited, short-term capacity.

This year’s trip is coming up in February, 2012. My practice in years past has been to pay for my own flight and transportation so there will be no cost to the school. (In other words, this is a mission trip.) The total cost of the trip is about $1000.00. If several of you out there want to partner with me to defray some of the cost of this trip, please contact me by email. For those who can provide prayer support for me, please pray for the following things:

1. Pray for God’s provision of health and safety both prior to the trip, during the week in Germany, and upon my return to the States.

2. Pray for the students at Wort des Lebens Esra-Training, that they will learn and grow through the instruction and that through them the body of Christ worldwide would be equipped and strengthened. This year they have a larger number of students than in previous years. It’s exciting to see how the Lord is blessing that ministry!

3. Pray for God’s protection of my family while I’m away, and especially for patience and perseverance for Stephanie as she has to manage Sophie, Lucas, and Nathan.

4. Pray that our Triune God will be honored and glorified as I tell the history of the Church to many who have never heard it before.

The NEW Quest for the Historical Santa

2011-12-06T08:01:00.000-08:00

The acute sufferings purportedly endured by Nicholas of Myra at the hands of his fourth-century Roman persecutors pale in comparison to the torture his legacy has endured ever since. Through the centuries countless men, women, and children have all but annihilated the actual historical figure, replacing him with a mythical imposter. The fabrications have been so severe that in most cases not a single trace of the authentic Nicholas of Myra can be found. The layers of mythology run so deeply that whatever fact may have once occupied the core has long suffocated, decomposed, and shriveled away. Instead of reliable historical facts about the life of Nicholas, we have songs recasting poems resting upon stories repackaging fables drawing upon myths relying on legends standing upon traditions relaying reports retelling rumors.

There are extremely rare instances when an objective historian stumbles upon a believable fact. But if he grips the fact too tightly, it instantly vanishes in a puff of historical irrelevance and uncertainty. Read accounts of the life of Nicholas of Myra in any encyclopedia and you’ll see what I mean: He was (apparently) born here. He (allegedly) served as bishop there. He traveled (perhaps) to such-and-such a place. He (maybe) did this or that. He (conceivably) grew old and (likely) died. The conscientious historian finds herself scouring the thesaurus for alternatives to adverbs like “perhaps” and “reportedly” so as not to find herself adrift in the doldrums of writing. But she quickly discovers that the English language simply does not have the capacity to communicate the nuances of uncertainty with regard to the alleged life and times of St. Nicholas of Myra.

As a historian of ancient church history, I was once convinced that any real history of the so-called uncontroversial facts regarding St. Nicholas would be roughly four sentences long. Dangling from these sentences like a Christmas tree decked by kindergarteners, one would find dozens of footnotes attempting to defend the claim that these four sentences really were, in fact, facts. If the biography were to include those things that seem to rest on at least a framework of historical facts supporting a mythical veneer, then the work might exceed four pages with numerous footnotes, excurses, and appendixes written for the sole purpose of sparing the historian’s career. For years I believed that nearly nothing certain could be known about the historical Santa. But more recently I’ve had a change of heart. Now I believe that many things about St. Nicholas can be nearly known, and many more things can be known to be certainly unknown. Trust me when I say that for historical Santa studies, this is real progress.

This essay is the result of years of study on the life, legacy, and legends of Nicholas of Myra. It will help each of us answer the primeval question that has haunted most Christian boys and girls from an early age: “Is there a real Santa Claus?” However, it will do nothing to productively explore the numerous related questions and issues: How was St. Nicholas transformed from a malnourished monk in a frock to a fat man in a red suit? Who was responsible for layer upon layer of fiction? Why so many versions of the same already unbelievable fables? As strange as it may sound, Nicholas of Myra may be the most well-known Christian saint we know almost nothing about. And it may have to stay this way.

My own personal journey into historical Santa studies began as a small child growing up in frigid northern Minnesota—as close to the North Pole climate and culture one can get while still living in the continental United States.

Let me set the stage for you. My younger brother and I would frequent the home of old “Grandma” Odie just down the alley. She’d always give us cookies or candy . . . and, due to her senility, she would ask us the same questions over and over again. One year around Christmas, she asked what we wanted from Santa. I sharply answered, “We don’t believe in Santa Claus.”

You see, my hard-working, down-to-earth parents never deceived us with the Santa myth. They reasoned that if they were going to work their blue collars ragged to place presents underneath the Christmas tree each year, they would at least let their kids know who to thank. So in the Svigel home, the chimney was “exit only.”

Grandma Odie frowned at our faithless response. “You don’t believe in Santa Claus?”

“No. It’s just our mommy and daddy.”

“Well, I believe in Santa Claus,” she answered.

I wasn’t sure what to do with this rejoinder. “You do?” I asked.

“Of course! I believe Santa Claus is a spirit, and he gives you the Christmas spirit in your heart.”

At that point I just shut my mouth and took another bite of my cookie. For Grandma Odie, “Santa” was a meaningful symbol of the Christmas spirit. And as long as it didn’t involve a rotund man climbing down my chimney in the middle of the night, I was willing to give her a pass.

From that point on through my childhood and adolescence, I accepted the “idea” of Santa Claus as a quaint personification of a festive spirit, a joyful demeanor, or even charitable virtue. But I had little interest in considering whether there ever was a real Santa Claus. Grandma Odie’s spiritualized interpretation was good enough for me. Having conveniently dismissed the Claus of history, I replaced him with the Santa of faith.

However, over the last several years my study of early church history constantly led me across the path of the mysterious St. Nicholas of Myra—a.k.a. Saint Nick, Nikolaus, Nikolai, or Santa Claus. As a result, I became more and more interested in the historical man behind the mythical symbol.

Sadly, though, my first quest for the historical Santa was a short one. The fact is, historians really don’t know a whole lot about Nicholas of Myra. The biographies we have were written centuries after his death and are filled with all sorts of far-fetched legendary accounts. Here’s what we think we know: Nicholas of Myra was born in southern Asia Minor (modern Turkey) in the late third century (around A.D. 270). By the early fourth century, he was serving as the bishop of Myra. He died around 346 on December 6, which is his feast day.

That’s the extent of our relative certainty. But that doesn’t stop us from going beyond the bare and boring facts of history to the more interesting traditions and legends surrounding this bigger-than-life figure. This book seeks to do just that, to observe how St. Nicholas or Myra is progressively transformed into Santa Claus of the North Pole. In this book we will move from the facts of history, through the trustworthy traditions, and finally the fabulous legends of popular mythology.

So, going a bit beyond the facts of history to relatively reliable tradition, we will see that St. Nicholas was thought to have been a very generous person who gave liberally to the poor and defended the oppressed. And he did so anonymously so that the thanks, praise, and glory would be directed to God alone. Many details of his charity are sketchy and legendary, but it seems likely that he cared for children as well as showed hospitality to sailors and foreigners—those who were constantly passing through the port city of Myra. (Yes, he was from the coastal Mediterranean. No, he was not from the North Pole. And he probably never saw snow!)

We’ll also discover that Nicholas likely suffered imprisonment and mistreatment during the great Roman persecution under Emperor Diocletian, who reigned from 284–305. And we have no reason to doubt that Nicholas attended the first ecumenical council of Nicaea in 325, where Arius was rejected for denying the deity of Christ. Nicholas’s name even appears on some lists of those bishops in attendance and I don’t see any reason why he would not have attended the council, for his southern coastal city of Myra was about 400 miles from Nicaea in the north, and he would have only been about 55 at the time. (Besides, didn't he have a fleet of flying reindeer?) We do have an account that at the state dinner for the bishops attending Nicaea, the Emperor Constantine apparently pointed out the three bishops he believed deserved special honor, saying, “There are three pillars of the world, Anthony in Egypt, Nicholas of Myra, and James in Assyria.”

From this point in the biography of Nicholas we will embark into the purely legendary, which may or may not have any relationship to actual history. Tales are told about his many miracles—from calming the seas to bringing children back to life. He is often called “Nicholas the Wonderworker” because of the accounts of miracles appearing in medieval biographies and artwork. But outside of the miraculous, the most interesting legend for me is the story of Nicholas striking Arius in the face at the Council of Nicaea. (Not quite the jolly old Saint Nick we imagine!) But, alas, the historical evidence for Santa Claus punching heretics in the nose isn’t strong enough for us to start a Christmas tradition of getting into fist fights with known heretics.

Yes, St. Nicholas is more than simply a symbol of the holiday spirit . . . not much more, but more nevertheless. So after reading this essay, if your children or grandchildren ask you if Santa Claus was a real person, you may confidently answer, “Yes.” But beyond that, there’s really not much more we can say for sure.

RetroChristianity Excerpt (Part 1 of 8)

2011-11-30T08:29:00.000-08:00

Chapter 6

The Third Canon of RetroOrthodoxy: Some Things Grow Clear through Trial and Error

In AD 410, on a French coastal island one mile long and half a mile wide, a monk named Honoratus founded a monastery. He originally intended to “get away from it all” and live as a hermit. But he apparently had such a magnetic spirituality that he attracted countless followers who wanted to withdraw from what many viewed as an increasingly political and troubled church to an island of peace and tranquility. The tiny island of Lérins afforded a perfect retreat from the theological upheavals that were occurring around the Mediterranean countries.

The events that had taken place in the church over the preceding century would have driven any spiritually-minded saint to seek a refuge from the raging seas of controversy. A hundred years earlier Christians throughout the Roman Empire had endured the greatest persecution in their three centuries of suffering. This time of physical trial ended with the Edict of Milan in 313, when Emperor Constantine made Christianity a legal religion. In 325, the Council of Nicaea gathered bishops from throughout the Empire to settle a major theological rift brought on by the teachings of Arius of Alexandria. This resulted in the Nicene Creed. Yet political turmoil brought doctrinal confusion, as emperors favored Arian bishops, sent Nicene supporters into exile, and put orthodoxy on the run.

This political takeover by the Arian heretics ended in 381 at the Council of Constantinople, when the orthodox agreed on clearer language to describe the relationship of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. They also defeated the heresy of Apollinarius, who taught that Christ had a human body, but not a human soul. However, the nature of Christ’s incarnation continued to pester the church, and in 431 the Council of Ephesus met to condemn the teachings of Nestorius and Pelagius—the former for denying the unity of the divine and human natures of Christ, the latter for denying the depravity of humanity and the necessity of grace in salvation. Then, in 451, the last of the four great ecumenical councils convened to condemn Eutyches, whose theology mixed the two natures of Christ into one mongrel nature, neither human nor divine.

In the midst of these doctrinal storms, the tranquil island monastery of Lérins flourished. Yet even the monks on that Mediterranean paradise couldn’t escape the theological and political tidal waves that swept through Europe and Africa. In 434, a monk of Lérins named Vincent wrote a brief but potent account of the heresies that had brought numerous trials on orthodoxy. All of the heretics had appealed to Scripture as the source of their doctrines. Vincent wrote:

Do heretics also appeal to Scripture? They do indeed, and with a vengeance; for you may see them scamper through every single book of Holy Scripture,—through the books of Moses, the books of Kings, the Psalms, the Epistles, the Gospels, the Prophets. Whether among their own people, or among strangers, in private or in public, in speaking or in writing, at convivial meetings, or in the streets, hardly ever do they bring forward anything of their own which they do not endeavour to shelter under words of Scripture. [fn: Vincent of Lérins, The Commonitory 25.64 (NPNF, 2.11:150)]

The problem among the heretics was not that they neglected Scripture, but that they misinterpreted it. The heretics failed to read the inspired, authoritative Word of God in light of the apostolic teaching passed down from the apostles generation after generation. In response, Vincent of Lérins coined his famous rule of orthodoxy:

Moreover, in the Catholic Church itself, all possible care must be taken, that we hold that faith which has been believed everywhere, always, by all. For that is truly and in the strictest sense “Catholic,” which, as the name itself and the reason of the thing declare, comprehends all universally. This rule we shall observe if we follow universality, antiquity, consent. [fn: Ibid., 2.6 (NPNF, 2.11:132)]

That is, deviant interpretations of Scripture concerning major issues like those rejected at the ecumenical councils can be judged as heretical based on the principle that some things never change and never should—the first canon of RetroOrthodoxy. However, this brings up an important question: Is there any room for learning, growing, or developing? Vincent himself asked this question in the Commonitory. His answer is insightful:

But someone will say, perhaps, Shall there, then, be no progress in Christ’s Church? Certainly; all possible progress. . . . Yet on condition that it be real progress, not alteration of the faith. For progress requires that the subject be enlarged in itself, [but] alteration [requires] that it be transformed into something else. The intelligence, then, the knowledge, the wisdom, as well of individuals as of all, as well of one man as of the whole Church, ought, in the course of ages and centuries, to increase and make much and vigorous progress; but yet only in its own kind; that is to say, in the same doctrine, in the same sense, and in the same meaning. [fn: Ibid., 23.54 (NPNF, 2.11:147–48, with clarifying additions)]

That is, progress in Christian understanding is to be expected, even embraced. Yet this development must never contradict the core content of the Christian faith. In fact, legitimate growth and progress ought to make the essentials of the faith even stronger. Vincent continues with several analogies of legitimate doctrinal growth in the church:

This, then, is undoubtedly the true and legitimate rule of progress, this the established and most beautiful order of growth, that mature age ever develops in the man those parts and forms which the wisdom of the Creator had already framed beforehand in the infant. Whereas, if the human form were changed into some shape belonging to another kind, or at any rate, if the number of its limbs were increased or diminished, the result would be that the whole body would become either a wreck or a monster, or, at the least, would be impaired and enfeebled. In like manner, it behooves Christian doctrine to follow the same laws of progress, so as to be consolidated by years, enlarged by time, refined by age, and yet, withal, to continue uncorrupt and unadulterate, complete and perfect in all the measurement of its parts, and, so to speak, in all its proper members and senses, admitting no change, no waste of its distinctive property, no variation in its limits. [Ibid., 23.56 (NPNF, 2.11:148).]

This reality—even necessity and desirability—of doctrinal development and theological progress leads to the third canon of RetroOrthodoxy: “Some things grow clear through trial and error.” That is, RetroChristianity acknowledges that real progress in doctrine and practice is part of the Christian faith. Twenty-first century Christians can benefit from the growth of knowledge and wisdom that has occurred over the previous twenty centuries, most often through trial and error—overcoming challenges to orthodoxy and learning from past mistakes. Those who reject doctrinal development forsake Spirit-led growth spurts of the body of Christ and squander the God-given wisdom that has helped to mature the Christian faith. However, like all principles of RetroOrthodoxy, the third canon must maintain a balance between several extremes.

Buttons, Duddies, and Coués: Three Extreme Responses to Doctrinal Development

Evangelicals can sometimes have extreme reactions to the idea of doctrinal development and theological progress: extreme primitivism, extreme stagnation, and extreme progressivism. We looked at the tension between primitivism and progressivism in chapter 3 as we defined the overall approach of RetroChristianity as neither primitivistic nor progressivistic. However, specifically related to the concept of doctrinal development, let’s revisit this tension and add a third reaction: extreme stagnation.

These extreme positions can be likened to three devastating medical syndromes. If they linger untreated in churches for too long, they will cause great damage to the body of Christ. In keeping with the medical analogy, I’ve given these three diagnoses distinct names: The Benjamin Button Syndrome (extreme primitivism), The Fuddy-Duddy Syndrome (extreme stagnation), and The Émile Coué Syndrome (extreme progressivism). RetroChristianity seeks to avoid all three extremes, while acknowledging a healthy consideration of historical perspective, confessional stability, and legitimate development.

[Continued...]

Rise of the Anti-Church: Online Virtual “Church”

2011-10-01T22:14:00.000-07:00

The trend toward online virtual church “campuses” must come to an end. If a church or ministry has started a virtual church campus as an alternative or supplement to an “in the flesh” gathering of a church community, it must desist. If an eager, entrepreneurial church planter is thinking about launching a virtual church, he needs to stop. If an impressionable saint has bought the idea that he or she can satisfy the mandate to assemble together (Heb 10:25) by logging into an online worship service, he or she needs to turn from that lie and embrace the truth.

Because, simply put, virtual church is anti-church.

Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not talking about authentic local churches that provide their messages online. I don’t even mean those that broadcast or stream their services live. I’m talking specifically about churches that “meet” exclusively online or those that have a component of their “membership” participating in the church exclusively online.

I know that for some reading this, it’s too late. They rushed in without thinking this thing through. They were so used to using the newest ever-changing technology to deliver the never-changing message that they simply took the next logical step. Or they got swept up in the “keeping up with the St. Jones’s” rat race and had to provide the same services that competing churches were providing. Whatever the case may be, some have swallowed the virtual church model and see nothing wrong with it.

To a certain degree, those who have fallen into the pit of the virtual church are not entirely at fault. Before any evangelical could end up careening over the cliff into legitimizing an exclusively online church, his or her evangelical tradition had to have taken four wrong turns in its ecclesiology. Without these four turns—of which most modern evangelicals are at least partially guilty—no right-minded Christian would ever imagine granting validity to a “virtual church” ministry. These are the turns toward “sermo-centrism,” “anti-sacramentalism,” “fan-ification,” and “neo-docetism.”

To help think biblically, theologically, and historically about the disastrous rise of the online anti-church, we need to examine these four false turns more closely.

Sermo-centrism: Reducing Church to the Message

Sermo-centrism is an error of reducing the entire worship service to the sermon. That is, instead of placing the preached Word in its proper place as a vital element of a fuller worship experience, the sermon becomes the most important thing, toward which everything points, around which everything revolves, and before which everything bows. In fact, in a sermo-centric church service, everything else but the sermon is detachable, optional, and flexible.

However, a well-rounded biblical worship service could never be reduced to the sermon. In the apostolic church, worship always included confession of sins to one another, corporate prayers, singing of hymns to one another, the public reading of Scripture, a message of exhortation toward love and good works, an offering of food or money for the poor, and the observance of the Lord’s Supper as a rite of personal and corporate spiritual renewal. In fact, neither the New Testament nor the early church ever regarded the sermon as the center, climax, or purpose of the Sunday morning gathering of the church.

When the purposes of “gathering together” as a church are explicitly mentioned in the New Testament, they include the following: to exhibit unity of the community by properly observing the Lord’s Supper (1 Cor 11:17–21, 33–34); to exercise spiritual gifts for the edification of the whole body (1 Cor 14:23–26); to pray for urgent matters (Acts 4:34); to report ministry endeavors (Acts 14:27); to discuss controversial doctrinal and practical matters (Acts 15:6); to read apostolic writings (Acts 15:30); to break bread and provide instruction in the faith (Acts 20:7); to exercise church discipline for the purification of the local congregation (1 Cor 5:4); to encourage one another toward love and good works (Heb 10:25); to confess our sins to each other (Jas 5:16). With this brief sampling, we see that the purposes of the physically gathered community and its leaders went far beyond the Sunday morning worship hour, and even that time could not be characterized as centering on a sermon.

The turn toward sermo-centrism occurred sometime after the Protestant Reformation during the age of revivalism, between about 1700 and 1900. During this time itinerant preachers—often acquiring celebrity status—traveled from place to place, sometimes country to country, drawing crowds with dynamic evangelistic messages. They preached their fiery sermons from stages to filled fields or packed auditoriums. Everything centered on this proclamation. This revivalistic emphasis on the sermon soon made its way into our churches, which began to model their morning messages on the revivalist pattern—a lot of music to stir up the crowd followed by a long message designed to elicit responses of the hearers’ mind, heart, and will.

When many churches took the sermo-centric turn, however, all of the other vital biblical elements of the gathered church were first diminished, then neglected, and eventually ignored or rejected—corporate prayer, church discipline, corporate confession of sin and forgiveness, and especially the weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper. Today, the sermo-centric model of Sunday morning worship is virtually an unquestioned conviction of many evangelical churches. Our leaders and congregants simply lack the biblical and historical perspective to realize how far removed the sermo-centric model is from the worship experience established by the apostles and practiced by most Christians for centuries.

Yet by reducing the purpose of the gathered community to the delivery of the message, evangelicalism opened the door to delivering this core element of the church in ways that do not require the community to be physically gathered. Without the sermo-centric turn, the viability of online virtual church could not be entertained.

Anti-sacramentalism: Forsaking the Rites of Initiation and Renewal

When many evangelicals reduced the worship service to the sermon, they began to have trouble finding a proper place for the New Testament sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s Supper. As the church body was regarded more as an audience assembled to listen to a sermon, baptism began to lose its original meaning as the rite of solemn initiation into a covenanted community. If you review all the reasons for which the people of the church gathered in the New Testament, you’ll notice that they all emphasize a serious degree of corporate accountability and interpersonal fellowship. In a stage/auditorium mentality where bigger crowds in tighter seating simply meant more ears to hear the motivational message, the concept of covenant church membership lost significance. As a result, today many traditions simply do not emphasize the necessary role of baptism in the life of the church. When it is practiced, it’s often sporadic, tacked on informally before or after a Sunday morning service, or relegated to a special “baptismal” service detached from the real purpose of church: to rev up the audience for its keynote address.

The Lord’s Supper has suffered even more. There’s no question at all that the apostles and the early church observed the Lord’s Supper (or “communion” or “eucharist”) every week as an essential part of their corporate worship experience. It was a holy time of offering oneself as well as the gathered body as living sacrifices to God in humble consecration (Rom 12). The one bread not only represented, but tangibly manifested, the unity of the one body gathered to partake together (1 Cor 10:17). Members of the church were not merely gathered to hear the Word read and preached. They were called upon to come forward, having confessed the wrongs toward one another and toward God, bearing an offering of love for others, and consecrating themselves to live a life of righteousness in response to the Word read and preached. So when evangelicals neglected the biblical emphasis on personal and corporate renewal through weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper, they lost a real, tangible, sanctifying experience of the faith designed to strengthen both individuals and the church.

Both of these biblical sacraments of the local church functioned not only as necessary means of covenant participation (baptism as initiation, communion as renewal) but also as means of exercising discipline and maintaining holiness in the community. At the time of their baptism, members of the church were both confessing their saving faith in the Triune God and pledging their covenant commitment to live the Christian life in the accountability of the church community. Having made this pledge, believers in good standing continued to renew their pledge of living a Spirit-led life of repentance from wickedness and growth in righteousness by participating in the Lord’s Supper. Those who strayed from the path of righteousness were physically excluded from sharing in this holy meal, of which Christ Himself was the divine Host through the power of the Holy Spirit.

By forsaking the physical corporate rites of covenant initiation (baptism) and covenant renewal (the Lord’s Supper), or by replacing these biblical ordinances with less formal and less physical processes for church membership and re-dedication, evangelicalism opened the door a little farther for a virtual church model. Virtual churches cannot really baptize. They can’t really partake of the Lord’s Supper from one bread to represent the spiritual and physical unity of the one body. They can’t really exclude those under discipline from the Lord’s table or hold individual members of the body to their baptismal pledge of discipleship. So, without the anti-sacramental turn, the viability of online virtual church could not have been entertained.

Fan-ification: Converting the Congregation into an Audience

We have seen that the gathered church engaged in corporate prayer, confession of sins to one another, mutual edification through hymns, teaching, reading Scripture, providing for needs, exercising spiritual gifts, and partaking of the Lord’s Supper. If one were to express this kind of worship service in a diagram, it would take the form of a circle. As the members of the covenanted community focus together on the center of Jesus Christ’s person and work, they themselves manifested by their physical presence the gathered “body of Christ”—His physical corporate presence on earth.

However, especially in the twentieth century, the most influential, paradigm-setting, model churches could not be described as a circle, but as a pyramid. Atop this grand monument stands the celebrity preacher, the center and source of the entire operation. Oh, he points us to the Bible and to Jesus, but he does so in ways that necessarily keep our attention on the preacher himself. If he were to downplay his presence and shorten his message in order to re-instate the proper place of corporate prayer, observance of the sacraments, mutual encouragement and exhortation, reading of Scripture, and other less glamorous and less personality-driven activities of the church, the celebrity would necessarily lose his place in the limelight.

Let’s face it. The celebrity pastor has mostly displaced the altar of the Lord’s Supper, which once focused the congregation on the incarnation of God the Son, His atoning death, His resurrection, and His abiding presence in the gathered community. Then the semi-biblical motivational messages, cleverly conceived and professionally performed, have turned the pulpit itself into a stage. The “service” is now a “production.” This production has become a brand. The church itself then becomes a franchise that can be packaged and distributed—marketed even. Branch campuses with piped-in productions eventually give way to streaming delivery of fast food spirituality that tastes sweet in the mouth as it sours the soul.

In the extreme form of this fake Christianity, the congregation is no longer defined as those covenanted members who gather frequently to commune with the Lord by communing with His corporate body on earth. Rather, the congregation has become a crowd of “fans” drawn to a brilliant preacher like dumb insects drawn to a shining light. And with the advent of live A/V feeds and online delivery methods, the growth of the fan base is limitless. With the fan-ification of the church, the congregation has become an audience focused on the latest evangelical luminary or tuning in to hear from their gifted guru.

By converting the congregation into an audience, evangelicalism opened the door even farther to legitimizing the online church. Virtual church members are pure audiences, as their “participation” through online media is only observation. Even if the online watcher is prompted to pray, to sing, to eat a cracker and drink some juice, or to shout “Amen,” he or she is doing nothing more than what we all did when we answered Mr. Rogers’ questions or responded to kids' shows like Blues Clues or Dora the Explorer. The difference is, the grown Christian should know better. So, without the fan-ification of the congregation, the idea of online virtual church could never have gotten off the ground.

Neo-Docetism: Promoting a Non-Incarnational Church

Finally, evangelicalism has slipped deeper and deeper into ecclesiological docetism. Christological docetism was the early heresy that separated the real physical, bodily humanity of Christ from His real spiritual divinity, either rejecting or severely down-playing the physicality of Christ and exalting His status as a spiritual being. The result was that Jesus only “appeared” to be human and physically present.

When the church is understood biblically and theologically as the body of Christ, this language necessarily assumes an orthodox incarnational Christology—that Jesus is fully human, fully divine (not one or the other), embodied (not a ghost), physical (not a phantom), real (not apparent), among us (not remote). For the church to reflect this incarnational reality of Christ as a mysterious extension of His corporate body on earth, the church must be embodied, physical, real, locally gathered, in the flesh.

An authentic gathering of the body of Christ on earth must be able to describe its corporate life in incarnational terms like those of 1 John 1:1—“What we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands.” If I can merely hear and see the gathered body, but cannot touch and embrace its members, or feel, smell, and taste its sacraments, then it's not an incarnational church but a docetic church. The word “docetism” means “appears to be” or “seems to be.” In fact, it’s the functional equivalent of the modern term “virtual,” which means “simulated,” or “opposite of real or physical.” The docetic heresy taught that Jesus Christ was only a “virtual” human. His humanity wasn’t real, wasn’t physical. He was “simulated” humanity. In the same vein, a docetic body of Christ would be a “virtual” church. Its corporate gathering wouldn’t be real, wouldn’t be physical. It would be “simulated” church.

In short, the docetic church is no more an acceptable alternative to an incarnational church than a docetic Christ is an acceptable alternative to the incarnate Christ. Just as the docetic Christ is an anti-Christ, the virtual church is an anti-church.

Rise and Fall of the Anti-Church

“Can” does not imply “ought.” The ability to do something does not mean it should be done. After evangelicalism as a whole took four distinct bad turns in the last few centuries, a growing number of over-zealous individuals and churches have taken the wheel and have driven their ministries headlong over a cliff. This has resulted in the docetic belief that an online virtual church is a legitimate substitute for a real gathered congregation.

Evangelicals who are dedicated to biblical, theological, and historical renewal of the church must resist this madness. Let me suggest three ways we can do this.

First, stop promoting, supporting, and tolerating virtual churches and those who are propagating them. Those who believe virtual churches can pass as real churches have by this very belief demonstrated that they are unqualified to shepherd a true church of Christ. They simply do not have the biblical understanding, theological training, and historical perspective needed to lead the church out of its current crisis. They can only lead it faster toward its disintegration. Resist the temptation to start a virtual church. And run (don’t walk) from those who start them.

Second, retrace your steps and work at reversing the four bad turns that led to virtual church being regarded as even a plausible ministry move. Reverse the promotion of the non-incarnational church (neo-docetism), the conversion of the congregation into an audience (fan-ification), forsaking the rites of covenant initiation and renewal (anti-sacramentalism), and reducing church to the message (sermo-centrism). Each of these alone and all of them together have led to a number of ministry models that are serving to weaken, not strengthen, the already declining evangelical tradition.

Third, promote a full-bodied church ministry, aligned with biblical priorities, informed by historical realities, and strengthened by theological convictions. Don’t let pragmatism, peer-pressure, commercialism, popularity, numbers, and the bottom-line dictate your ministry models and methods. The modern technological gimmicks and games may appear to be bringing about success in your ministry, but this is only “virtual” success. In the end, anything short of an incarnational ecclesiology will lead your ministry to destruction.

Church Membership as a Covenant Commitment?

2011-08-11T12:15:00.000-07:00

In our culture of competing churches, lackluster commitments, and consumer-driven spirituality, the idea of local church membership has suffered greatly. The classic biblical concept of a family’s covenant commitment to a definable body of believers under ordained leadership with a common calling and mutual concern has consequently been treated with skepticism, disbelief, or even contempt. This kind of cavalier treatment of the local church reflects the low commitments we see throughout our culture as marriage vows are shattered, contracts are breached, and promises are broken. However, just as Christians are called to affirm their marriage vows, fulfill their contracts, and keep their promises, we are also expected to fulfill the covenant commitment we make when we publicly join in membership to a local church.

But what do we mean by “covenant commitment” and how does this affect our understanding of local church membership? The term “covenant” simply means “formal agreement,” “solemn promise,” or “public commitment.” This relates to church membership in two important ways. First, when we describe church membership as a “covenant commitment” to a local community of believers, we are simply saying that by becoming a member of a particular church, we are not simply entering into rights and privileges, but we are assuming certain responsibilities and obligations. Second, a “covenant commitment” is more than simply being committed. I may be committed to abstain from coffee for a week (a purely hypothetical concept, of course!). However, such a commitment becomes a covenant commitment when I publicly confess my commitment before others as a formal promise or solemn vow. In the same way, regular attenders at a church may be “committed” to showing up week after week. But those who have formally entered into membership have made a “covenant commitment” when they publicly affirmed their loyalty to carry out their biblical responsibilities as members of a local body of believers.
With the general concept of “covenant commitment” defined, let’s look at a few important considerations related to the concept of church membership in the New Testament and why our official entrance into such membership must be viewed as a covenant commitment to a local, definable body of believers.

Cleaving to the Local Community

When we become members of a local church, we “cleave” to that community with the same kind of solemnity with which we cleave to our spouses or our families.

In Matthew 19:5, the Greek verb kollavw (kollao), refers to the joining in covenant commitment between a husband and wife. Elsewhere it means to enter into a contractual labor agreement, to “hire oneself out” to a master (Luke 15:15). In fact, so close is the relationship described by “cleaving” (kollao), that the term is used to describe the eternal relationship believers have when they join themselves to the Lord (1 Cor. 6:17)!

In its ecclesiastical usage, kollao is used with reference to “joining” a local assembly, even if one is already a baptized member of the universal body of Christ. Thus, when Paul traveled to Jerusalem after his miraculous conversion, he “attempted to join (kollao) the disciples” (Acts 9:26). After the church in Jerusalem responded with skepticism, doubting the genuineness of his conversion, Barnabas vouched for Paul before the local leadership of that church, that is, the apostles (Acts 9:27). From that point on, Paul’s relationship is described as “with them,” that is, a member of that community under the headship of the leadership.

Later, as Paul preached the gospel and made disciples, they “joined (kollaomai) him and believed” (Acts 17:34). We know from numerous passages throughout the book of Acts that believing and being baptized were closely associated (Acts 18:8), and that baptism itself was the first step in the life of discipleship (Matt. 28:19). We also know that discipleship involves a formal relationship of master and disciple (2 Pet 3:16). Thus, the idea of officially “joining” or “cleaving” to a particular local congregation of the body of Christ under ordained leadership for the purpose of mutual edification and accountability is quite biblical.

Accountability within the Community

Being a cleaving member of a local church involves an accountability relationship to that particular community that one does not have with any other congregation. This relationship of accountability defines who is “in” the community and who is “out.”

In 1 Corinthians 5:2, Paul commands the local church in Corinth to gather together and remove the unrepentant believer from “among” the church (1 Cor. 5:2). This has come after a proper process of church discipline. Such a removal from “among” the church is only possible if there were clearly-established boundaries of the local community. Just as a company can only fire those who are officially and legally employed, churches can only exercise discipline against those who are officially and covenantally incorporated into membership.

But can we be sure that Paul had in mind a well-defined covenanted community of actual identifiable members? Yes. In fact, in 1 Corinthians 5:13, Paul quotes a phrase from the Old Testament that clearly indicates this: “Purge the evil person from among you” (Deut. 17:7, 12; 21:21; 22:21, 22, 24). The Old Testament background illuminates Paul’s intention here. Only those who were covenanted members of Israel were responsible to its laws and therefore accountable to its discipline. That is, those who were circumcised as the sign of the Old Covenant were accountable to keep the whole Law (Gal. 5:3). In the same way, Paul regarded as accountable members those baptized believers who were covenanted to the local community in association with their brothers and sisters in the congregation under ordained leadership.

In Matthew 18, Jesus outlines a process of church discipline that begins with a private confrontation between one brother and another (Matt. 18:15). If this step fails, the next stage is to bring two or three witnesses (18:16). If this intermediate step does not bring about repentance of the transgressor, the final stage is to take the matter before “the church” (Matt. 18:17), which includes at least the leadership of the church and those who constitute the “assembly” of covenanted believers joined to that local body, accountable to its discipline. Failure to bring about reconciliation at this point leads to an ejection of that member from the local church, as described in 1 Corinthians 5:2 and 13.

Simply put, without a covenanted submission of believers to one another and to the established leadership, the kind of church discipline described by Jesus and the apostles is simply impossible. Without membership in a community, there could be no ejection from the community. And without a covenant commitment to the community, there could be no charge of a breach of that covenant with the appropriate repercussions that accompany it.

Leadership and Membership in the Community

The fact that leaders are exhorted to take care of the members of their churches demonstrates that they have a God-given responsibility for a particular definable covenant community. Without such a covenant, leaders could not responsibility and legitimately exercise such authority.

In Acts 20:28, Paul addresses the elders from the individual local church in Ephesus with the following charge of pastoral responsibility: “Pay careful attention to yourselves and to all the flock, in which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to care for the church of God which he obtained with his own blood.” For such a charge to have any meaning, the leadership would need to be able to identify those who are members of “the flock.” Keeping in mind that Paul is addressing the local church leadership from Ephesus, those leaders would know who was within the scope of their oversight. This “flock” is called the “church,” that is, the local congregation in Ephesus.

The apostle Peter also echoes this same kind of charge in 1 Peter 5:1–3. The elders in the churches were charged with the responsibility of shepherding (or “pastoring”) “the flock of God,” that is, an identifiable group of individuals for which the leaders were responsible (1 Pet. 5:2). In verse 3, those for whom the elders were responsible are referred to as “those in your charge” (kleros). The term is used with reference to an official, set membership in Acts 1:17, 26; 26:18. Thus, the idea of defined leadership responsibility requires defined membership boundaries and a covenanted relationship of responsibility.

The establishment of local church leadership began already in the church in Jerusalem, where the apostles themselves served as elders alongside other elders appointed in the Jerusalem church (Acts 8:1; 9:27; 11:30; 15:2, 4, 6, 22; 1 Pet. 5:1). The establishment of leadership in local churches continued in Paul’s apostolic ministry. During their first missionary journey, Paul and Barnabas “appointed elders” in every church (Acts 14:23). These elders were responsible for overseeing the community of disciples they made in each location (14:21). The fact that these members of the local church are called “disciples” is significant, as “disciple” indicated a person who was in a formal mentoring relationship. In the case of the local church community, a disciple would be in a relationship of submission to the teaching, training, and mentoring of the apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers (Eph. 4:11). After the ministry of the apostles, the establishment of ordained leadership in each local church was intended to continue. Paul instructed Titus to “appoint elders in every town” (Titus 1:5).

The responsibility of the membership of the local church was to live in a relationship of mutual encouragement and support, meeting together consistently (Heb. 10:23). This membership in the local established church also involved a relationship of submission to leadership (Heb. 13:17).

The Seriousness of the Covenant Commitment

When a person joins a local church community with an established leadership structure and a set membership roster, they are committing to fulfill the biblical calling to that particular family of God. This commitment before God and His people is solemn and serious. It should not be entered into hastily or flippantly, nor should the church leadership and membership accept new members without scrutiny.

Scripture is quite explicit about the seriousness of our commitments as Christians—especially our commitment to build up our local church body. In general, we are to take our human commitments with utmost seriousness. In Galatians 3:15, Paul explained that “even with a man-made covenant, no one annuls it or adds to it once it has been ratified.” Thus, entering into contracts, covenants, agreements, and promises is serious. As much as it lies within us, we are to keep our commitments without wavering. Paul wrote, “Do I make my plans according to the flesh, ready to say ‘Yes, yes’ and ‘No, no’ at the same time?” (2 Cor. 1:17). Obviously, the answer is, “As surely as God is faithful, our word to you has not been Yes and No.” That is, just as God keeps His promises and covenants with us, we are to keep our promises and covenants with each other (2 Cor. 1:20).

Our reputations as consistent promise-keepers should be such that worldly flakiness and waffling are unheard of among us. This means fulfilling informal agreements, contractual obligations, and covenant commitments. In fact, rather than having to swear oaths by God, the Bible, or our mother’s graves, Christians should have such a high degree of consistent integrity in keeping their commitments that they should simply let their “yes” remain “yes” and their “no” remain “no” (James 5:12).

Now, applying this general principle of faithfulness to commitments to our local churches, we turn to the expectation of all members of the local body of believers described in 1 Corinthians 3:10–17. Don’t miss the context here! Paul is addressing the local church in Corinth, marred as it was with sin, divisions, and conflict. Nevertheless, he recounted how Paul himself had planted that church, followed by Apollos, who “watered” the plant (1 Cor. 3:6). Paul then likens the body of believers in Corinth to “God’s building” (3:9). As a master builder, Paul laid the foundation of the church in Corinth, the Gospel of Jesus Christ (3:10). After he moved on, others were left behind to continue building up that local body upon that original foundation (3:10–11).

In this context of building up the local body of believers in Corinth, Paul warns that each member must “take care how he builds upon” the foundation (3:10). That is, as individual members of our local church, we are to exercise our gifts to the edification of each other (1 Cor. 12–14). In this sense we can build with either precious, strong, high-quality materials that endure or with poor, weak, low-quality materials that crumble (3:12). Obviously the good quality work in the church will lead to positively building up our brothers and sisters in Christ while low quality work will lead to the church’s deterioration and ultimate destruction. The former will be rewarded, that latter punished (3:13–15). In fact, Paul closes his building analogy for the church in Corinth by likening them to a holy temple: “Do you not know that you [the Greek is plural] are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy him. For God’s temple is holy, and you are that temple” (3:16–17). We must not lose sight of the context here. The “temple” Paul refers to in this passage is neither the universal church nor the individual believer’s body. The temple is the local church in Corinth, the body of believers exhorted to work together to build each other up in the faith.

What does this text teach regarding the seriousness of keeping our commitment to our local church? First, we are to be positively exercising our gifts as well as expending our time, resources, and skills for the building of that holy temple—our local church body in which we are vital members. This is spelled out for us explicitly in 1 Corinthians 12–14. No member of the body can excuse itself from building up the local church.

Second, to either withhold our gifts or to withdraw ourselves from the local body of believers will bring destruction upon the church. If we contribute poor quality to our local church or if we fail to contribute at all, we will fail to build up the body of Christ. Instead, we will contribute to its weakening and ultimately its destruction.

Third, God will destroy those who destroy His local church. In one of the most sobering warnings of the Bible Paul says, “If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy him” (1 Cor. 3:17). Think about this in relationship to our commitment to our local church. If I withdraw my time, talents, and treasures from the congregation to which I have obligated myself through membership, I will be directly contributing to its weakening and destruction. On what basis, then, can I expect to avoid the disciplining hand of God? Remember, Paul’s stern warning relates to an individual contributing to the destruction of the local church in Corinth, not to his general behavior as a Christian.

Clearly, breaking our membership commitment to a local church and the brothers and sisters of Christ with whom we have entered into a covenant relationship is serious business. So serious, in fact, that behavior leading to the destruction of the local church will mean “destruction” from the hand of God. These are not my words or my warnings, but the clear teaching of Scripture.

Conclusion

The Bible is clear about formally joining a church community by entering into a covenant commitment to a specific local body. This community then becomes our “spiritual family.” We ought to have extended family relationship with other local churches and other believers outside our local church. This is biblical and healthy. However, our “nuclear family” is the local church in which we have covenanted to build each other up in the faith, to submit to the leadership, and to love and support through good times and bad. Once we have entered into that covenant commitment, we are expected to contribute to the church’s positive growth, building it up with quality work rather than contributing to its destruction.

God is serious about the local church and our committed participation in its life and ministries. We need to strive to be just as serious in our covenant commitment to our local family of God.

The Dating Game (Round Two): Harold Camping’s Imminent (Second) Failed Calculation of Judgment Day

2011-05-16T21:23:00.000-07:00

I’ll never forget September 6, 1994. Not because of what happened on that day, but because of what didn’t happen.

That was the day Jesus didn’t Rapture the church.

That was the day that Harold Camping, president of Family Radio, calculated that the Rapture of the church described in 1 Thessalonians 4:17 would take place. Though he acknowledged the possibility that he could be wrong, he defended his arguments with passion. After Camping’s failed attempt at playing the “Dating Game,” I lost track of him. I assumed he had simply drifted off into the backwaters of the evangelical fringe as false teachers usually do.

Boy, was I wrong! He and other contenders have reemerged with a vengeance, ready for round two of the Dating Game. This time the date set for the Rapture is May 21, 2011. This time these contenders have provided a simpler calculation for the end of the world—easy to follow, easy to explain, easy to promote. (Also quite easy to refute.) And this time they’re playing the game with billboards in major metropolitan areas to get the word out.

So What’s Supposed to Happen on May 21?

To get a clear picture of what we’re told to expect on May 21, 2011, let me quote from the Family Radio website (http://www.familyradio.com/facts/):

On May 21, 2011 two events will occur. These events could not be more opposite in nature, the one more wonderful than can be imagined; the other more horrific than can be imagined.

A great earthquake will occur the Bible describes it as “such as was not since men were upon the earth, so mighty an earthquake, and so great.” This earthquake will be so powerful it will throw open all graves. The remains of the all the believers who have ever lived will be instantly transformed into glorified spiritual bodies to be forever with God.

On the other hand the bodies of all unsaved people will be thrown out upon the ground to be shamed.

The inhabitants who survive this terrible earthquake will exist in a world of horror and chaos beyond description. Each day people will die until October 21, 2011 when God will completely destroy this earth and its surviving inhabitants.

Got that? On May 21 a mega-earthquake will toss the dead from their graves and kick off five months of earthly horror until October 21, 2011, at which time the earth will be demolished. Also on May 21 the believers will be resurrected and raptured, taken to heaven to be with God forever. In other words, these are “front-page,” “special-report,” “we-interrupt-this-program,” “this is not at test” kinds of events. In other words, there will be no question at all whether the players of the Dating Game win or lose.

How the Dating Game Is Played

Like the first round back in 1994, the second round of the Dating Game is doomed to failure. Let me present just a few of the straightforward arguments for the commencement of Judgment Day on May 21, 2011.

First, as odd as it may seem, the argument for May 21 begins with creation and the flood. By analyzing the chronology and genealogies in the Bible, the interpreters have precisely dated the year of creation at 11,013 B.C. The global flood in Genesis 7 is dated at 4990 B.C. This specific dating of the flood is essential to the whole May 21 dating game. In fact, we might say that the strict, detailed, and indisputable chronology of events in the Old Testament may be likened to the field, stage, or board on which the Dating Game is played. Without this precise dating, the whole calculation collapses.

Second, the players also use 2 Peter 3:8 as a key to interpreting the often hidden prophetic meaning of Scripture. Peter wrote, “But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years” (ESV). With this key in hand, the secrets of Scripture can now be unlocked, because when certain parts of Scripture refer to days, they can now be interpreted as thousands of years! Without this formula of “1=1000,” the whole calculation fails

Third, the date-setters use Genesis 7:4, 10–11 as their prophetic text. With a precise dating of the flood and the prophetic key of 1=1000 firmly in hand, they read these verses not as an historical account of the flood, but as a hidden prophecy of the end of the world: “For in seven days I will send rain on the earth forty days and forty nights, and every living thing that I have made I will blot out from the face of the ground. . . . And after seven days the waters of the flood came upon the earth. In the six hundredth year of Noah’s life, in the second month, on the seventeenth day of the month, on that day all the fountains of the great deep burst forth, and the windows of the heavens were opened” (Gen. 7:4, 10–11). They read this account as a prophecy of the end of all things—each of the seven days leading up to the flood being seven thousand years from the flood until the end of the world. Without interpreting this historical record as a cryptic prophecy, the whole Dating Game flops.

So, in one publication entitled, “The End of the World Is Almost Here,” the author concludes, “Therefore, with the correct understanding that the seven days referred to in Genesis 7:4 can be understood as 7,000 years, we learn that when God told Noah there were seven days to escape worldwide destruction, He was also telling the world there would be exactly 7,000 years (one day is as 1,000 years) to escape the wrath of God that would come when He destroys the world on Judgment Day. . . . Amazingly, May 21, 2011 is the 17th day of the 2nd month of the Biblical calendar of our day” (http://www.familyradio.com/PDFS/jd_en.pdf). The math is quite simple. Seven thousand years after 4990 B.C. (the year of the Flood) is the year A.D. 2011: 4990 + 2011 – 1 (since there is no year “0”) = 7,000.

So, should we print up some pamphlets, hit the streets, and start proclaiming the end of the world?

Not so fast.

Cheating at the Dating Game

Each of the three pillars supporting the May 21, 2011 date for Judgment Day is simply ridiculous. First, based on the data given to us in the Bible, it is impossible to date creation and the flood . . . impossible. The reality is that the Old Testament doesn’t intend to give us the precise dating of creation and the flood. In fact, great Bible scholars throughout history who have attempted to work out these dates have always come up with different answers. Nothing like a consensus has ever developed. Rather, the scholars generally agree that Scripture doesn’t give us enough information to date the flood with any degree of certainty. So, the precise dating of the flood at 4990 B.C.—an essential dating for the May 21 calculation—is mere speculation. It is not based on an informed and balanced interpretation of the Bible.

Second, the “1=1000” key to prophecy is also impossible to maintain. In 2 Peter 3:8, Peter is not answering the question, “With what secret key can I decode Old Testament prophecies?” Rather, the question is, “Why has God delayed the judgment for so long? Why hasn’t Christ made good on His promise to return soon?” The answer? From God’s perspective of timelessness, a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years is like a day! That is, earthly time is completely irrelevant to God. In fact, Peter is paraphrasing Psalm 90:4—“For a thousand years in your sight are but as yesterday when it is past, or as a watch in the night.” That is, from our finite human perspective a 1000 years feels tedious; for God it is but a moment. Notice that Peter reverses the formula as well—“and a thousand years [is] as one day” (2 Pet. 3:8). Therefore, using 2 Peter 3:8 as a key for interpreting a day in the Old Testament as a thousand years is simply wrong. It is not based on an informed and balanced interpretation of the Bible.

Third, the use of Genesis 7:4, 10–11 as a prophecy looking forward to the final conflagration of all things also fails to pass scrutiny. Anybody with sensitivity to the genre and context of this passage can see that nothing in this text warrants these verses to be read as an end-times prophecy. Rather, Genesis 7:4 is simply a one-week count-down to the global flood given to Noah so he would know when to load the Ark. Then verses 10-11 is historical narrative explaining that the flood came just as God had said and giving us the exact time of year the rain began. This is historical narrative, not end-times prophecy. There’s nothing in this text that suggests the chronology of this account is to be taken typologically or prophetically in anticipation of the end of the world. Even if it were legitimate to interpret the seven days until the flood as indicating “seven thousand years” until the final Judgment Day, why, then, are the forty days of rain upon the earth not taken to represent 40,000 years of judgment upon the earth? Wouldn’t that be consistent? The fact remains that this prophetic interpretation of Genesis 7 is simply arbitrary and indefensible. It is not based on an informed and balanced interpretation of the Bible.

To summarize: 1) We cannot date the time of the flood with any degree of accuracy, and 4990 is a wild speculation. 2) The “1=1000” formula is not a key for unlocking prophetic chronology. 3) The historical narrative of Gen. 7:4, 10–11 is not a prophecy of the end times.

The Presumptuous Sin: God Knows and Tells?

Jesus, Paul, Peter, and the entire early church believed that nobody can calculate or know the hour, day, year, or even season of Christ’s return. Jesus said, “But of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone” (Matt. 24:36). To clarify that not even the disciples could have known, Jesus added, “Therefore be on the alert, for you do not know which day your Lord is coming” (Matt. 24:42). And to underscore the fact that even those who would believe in subsequent generations could not know the time of Christ’s return, Jesus said, “Take heed, keep on the alert; for you do not know when the appointed time will come. . . . What I say to you I say to all, ‘Be on the alert’” (Mark 13:33, 37).

Later the apostle Paul reiterated this teaching that nobody knows the day or the hour but that all believers of every generation must remain alert and ready for judgment to come at any moment. He wrote, “Now as to the times and the epochs, brethren, you have no need of anything to be written to you. For you yourselves know full well that the day of the Lord will come just like a thief in the night” (1 Thess. 5:1–2). Believers, however, will not be overtaken by the suddenness of this coming (5:4), not because they will know the times, epochs, year, and day, but because they will be ready for Christ’s return regardless of when it occurs! Later the apostle Peter himself echoes this same thought: “But the day of the Lord will come like a thief” (2 Pet. 3:10, emphasizing the suddenness of the coming of Christ in judgment.

Finally, an early Christian writing called the Didache (A.D. 50–75), used for instruction of new Gentile believers in Christ, included a brief account of Christian expectations of the end times. The author of that text wrote, “Watch over your life: do not let your lamps go out, and do not be unprepared, but be ready, for you do not know the hour when our Lord is coming” (Didache 16.1). Thus, the pattern of teaching in the early orthodox church was the same as that of Jesus and the apostles: we do not know (and cannot know) the time of Christ’s return. It could happen in their lifetime as well as ours. Therefore, we must be ready for it every day and every moment of our lives.

Yet these facts of Christian faith don’t stop those high-risk gamblers playing the Dating Game. Instead, they suggest that these warnings are for unbelievers, or that God has chosen to progressively illuminate His church to discover the secret knowledge long hidden in Scripture, or they quote passages like Amos 3:7, concluding that God would never suddenly judge the world without adequate warning. They write, “However, the Holy Bible tells us that Holy God is a God of great mercy, compassion and love. That is why He has given us in advance of the destruction the exact time of the Day of Judgment. The Bible tells us in Amos 3:7: ‘Surely the Lord GOD will do nothing, but He revealeth his secret unto His servants the prophets’” (http://www.familyradio.com/PDFS/jd_en.pdf). There are, of course, a few problems with this, besides the obvious problem of presumptuously ripping this Old Testament verse out of its context and then pitting it against Jesus, Peter, Paul, the early church, and the vast majority of orthodox believers from the first century to the twenty-first century.

First, God’s New Testament prophets, including Jesus, has already given sufficient warning to every generation that Day of the Lord would come suddenly, unannounced “like a thief,” urging believers to be on their guard at all times. Note that this warning is for believers, not unbelievers. He has already fulfilled the principle of Amos 3:7 by telling us to be ready at any moment. This is God’s last warning before the period of judgment begins.

Second, in the classic belief of the earliest church, the unannounced, any-moment commencement of the time of final judgment on earth, which will last seven years (see Rev. 11–13), will be filled with numerous additional warnings, calls to repentance, and opportunities for mercy and salvation. We don’t need a special date-setting revelation today prior to the beginning of that tribulation for Amos 3:7 to be fulfilled quite literally. In fact, the book of Revelation shows us that God’s final seven-year period of judgment will grow in intensity and severity in order to grant people opportunities to repent and be saved.

Finally, the promise of Amos 3:7 refers to God giving a special revelation to His prophets to warn the people of coming judgment. This is different from granting an individual or group special abilities to interpret God’s inspired Scripture in order to calculate the time of Judgment Day. Unless Family Radio and other supporters of the May 21, 2011 date are claiming authoritative divine revelation directly from God, Amos 3:7 does not apply to their flimsy and faulty calculations.

We’ve Got Some Bigger Problems

Besides the unbiblical and presumptuous nature of playing the Dating Game, there are several very serious theological and practical problems with this latest error of date-setting. In fact, when we consider the theological consequences of the inevitable failed prophecy of May 21, 2011, these problems expose implicit heretical implications.

The Christological Problem. Jesus clearly said that nobody knew the day or hour, not even He Himself in His humbled earthly state, having submitted His power to the will of the Father so that even things He could have by nature miraculously accomplished, He temporarily set aside to accomplish His earthly mission (as in Matt. 26:53). However, the date-setters say that the date of May 21, 2011 is clearly set forth in the Bible in the “prophecy” of Genesis 7:4, 10–11. All one needed to do was to calculate the date of the flood based on the clear testimony of Scripture and follow the “1=1000” principle already revealed in Psalm 90:4. This means that had Jesus simply put two and two together, He should have been able to interpret the Bible and would have known the date. This means that either Jesus didn’t know His Bible as well as Harold Camping and Family Radio or that He couldn’t do the math. That is, if the Father had already revealed this date in the Old Testament, how could Jesus have said that He didn’t know it? In fact, not even angels knew it! How is it that frail and fallible humans today can read and interpret their Bibles better than Jesus Himself? The only solution to this problem that doesn’t make Jesus look like an ignorant buffoon is to face the simple fact that only the Father knows the Day of Judgment and He has not revealed it either in the Bible or to any prophet. Harold Camping, then, is simply a false teacher two twists the Scripture to his own destruction (2 Pet. 3:16).

The Theological Problem. Jesus is not the only member of the Godhead that ends up slandered by the date-setters. God the Father, who revealed Scripture through the Holy Spirit (2 Tim. 3:16; 2 Pet. 1:20–21), will also be placed in a bad light when the prophecy of May 21, 2011 fails to come to pass. The simple fact is that Judgment Day will not begin on May 21, 2011. (Note: nobody knows the day, which will come when it is not expected; Family Radio has gone international claiming to know the day; therefore, it will not be May 21, 2011.) However, Family Radio has posted billboards claiming that God has provided clear clues in the inspired, inerrant Word of God that May 21, 2011 is the very day! In fact, they have placed a golden seal on some of their signs that says, “The Bible Guarantees It!” If this is true, then God must fulfill this guarantee. Yet, if these things do not come to pass on May 21, 2011 (and they won’t), then we have two options: 1) God changed His mind, as He did when He threatened judgment against Nineveh through Jonah, or 2) God genuinely threatened to send Judgment Day on May 21, 2011 in order to bring about repentance, knowing all along that He wouldn’t really judge the earth. However, in either case, God becomes a deceptive, untrustworthy, promise-breaking liar. If God, through His Holy Spirit, placed the “guarantee” of Judgment Day for May 21, 2011 in Genesis 7:4, 10–11, and then if He doesn’t fulfill that guarantee, then God is a liar. The only solution to this problem is that God has not, in fact, guaranteed the Judgment Day will fall on May 21, 2011, nor on any other day anybody past, present, or future, might set. Harold Camping, then, is a false teacher, guilty of ignorance and instability (2 Pet. 3:16).

The Practical Problem. Finally, by claiming that “the Bible guarantees” that Judgment Day will begin May 21, 2011, Harold Camping and Family Radio have contributed to the further undermining of the Bible’s perceived authority in our increasingly skeptical and cynical culture. How so? Well, when May 21, 2011 doesn’t pan out, weak believers, unbelievers, skeptics, critics, and scoffers will likely conclude one of two things: 1) Christianity and the Bible are utterly untrustworthy, legitimately leading to the question, “What else does it guarantee that isn’t really true?” Or 2) The Bible is hopelessly ambiguous, because if careful interpreters can read it so wrongly that they can say it “guarantees” Judgment Day on May 21, 2011, then Scripture can apparently be interpreted to say anything people want it to say. In either case, nothing good at all comes from failed date-setting. Rather, those who play the Dating Game make authentic, Bible-believing Christians look bad, as they lump us all together and regard us as misguided, brainless zealots.

Our Enduring Response

Christians can learn something from yet another failed attempt at pinpointing the time of Christ’s return. We must all make a conscious decision to resist two perennial errors with regard to end-times expectations. First, we must ban, shun, and reject those who play the Dating Game. Setting a date for the return of Christ or some other end-time event(s) is completely unacceptable. It was unacceptable in the first century. It is unacceptable in the twenty-first century. We must exercise a policy of “ZERO TOLERANCE” for this unwise and borderline blasphemous practice.

Second, we must also inoculate ourselves against the much more common disease of “This-is-that-itis,” which is the common practice of interpreting the Bible’s prophecies in light of current events and presumptuously concluding (or at least hypothesizing) that our generation must be the last generation. This was unacceptable in the first century. It is unacceptable in the twenty-first. We simply cannot know the hour, day, week, month, year, decade, or generation. Christ could come in our lifetime. Or He could come in a thousand years.

God only knows.

(And He’s not telling.)

An Explanation Is in Order

2011-02-04T20:57:00.000-08:00

To those of you who have actually missed my [roughly] bi-weekly blog posts for the last several [gulp] months, I think an explanation is in order.

No, I haven’t died, apostatized, or lost interest. Nor have I had computer problems. Actually, I’ve been working hard on a book based on the tone and content of this blog, currently titled RetroChristianity: Reclaiming the Forgotten Faith. I'm nearly finished with the first draft of the manuscript, which currently consists of twelve chapters in four parts.

When RetroChristianity is published, this site will take on a slightly different character. Some of the older content will be removed. Newer content will be added. And the site itself will serve as a center for the exchange of ideas related to implementing real change among evangelicals and our churches that are in line with historic orthodox Protestant Christianity. In other words, the book RetroChristianity is intended to be a springboard for a dialogue that will continue here at http://www.retrochristianity.com/.

Stay tuned for more details in the coming months.

Who Said It? (# 2)

2010-10-23T09:38:00.000-07:00

UPDATE:

Yes, it's Irenaeus of Lyons, disciple of Polycarp, disciple of John, from his Demonstration of the Apostolic Preaching. What I find fascinating about this is that Irenaeus viewed the Law of Moses, even the moral legislation of the Ten Commandments, as non-binding on Christians who are walking in love for God and others. However, by implication the Law steps in and condemns the actions of those who do not walk by the Spirit. This is, incidentally, identical to my own view of the function of the Law in the lives of believers.

Without googling, can you guess who in the last 2000 years of church history said this?

"Since, then, by this calling life has been given to us, and God has summed up again for Himself in us the faith of Abraham, we ought not to turn back any more—I mean, to the first legislation."

"For we have received the Lord of the Law, the Son of God; and by faith in Him we learn to love God with all our heart, and our neighbour as ourselves. Now the love of God is far from all sin, and love to the neighbour works no ill to the neighbour. For this reason, also, we do not need the Law as a tutor."

"Behold, with the Father we speak, and in His presence we stand, being children in malice, and grown strong in all righteousness and soberness. For no longer shall the Law say, Do not commit adultery, to him who has no desire at all for another’s wife; and Thou shalt not kill, to him who has put away from himself all anger and enmity; and Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s field or ox or ass, to those who have no care at all for earthly things, but store up the heavenly fruits: nor An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth, to him who counts no man his enemy, but all men his neighbors, and therefore cannot stretch out his hand at all for vengeance. It will not require tithes of him who consecrates all his possessions to God, leaving father and mother and all his kindred, and following the Word of God. And there will be no command to remain idle for one day of rest, to him who perpetually keeps sabbath, that is to say, who in the temple of God, which is man’s body, does service to God, and in every hour works righteousness."

Why Travel the Ancient Paths? Part 3

2010-09-08T20:51:00.000-07:00

In parts 1 and 2 of this series, I presented five reasons for incorporating historical reflection into a balanced Christian life. I suggested that the study of our Christian heritage would cure our ignorance of the past, curb the arrogance of our present, conserve the faith for the future, connect us to a rich legacy, and counter the claims of critics. In this final essay I describe the last two reasons for minding the markers of the classic Christian tradition as we step forward into the future.

Sixth, looking back will cultivate Christian growth. Cicero wisely said, “To remain ignorant of things that happened before us is to remain a child.” Christian growth requires knowledge not only of the changeless truths of Scripture, but also of how these truths were understood, applied, attacked, defended, and refined throughout history. This applies both to the individual believer as well as the whole Body of Christ worldwide.

Let me illustrate how remembering is necessary for Christian growth. Imagine if every year over summer break a student forgot everything she learned the previous year of school. After kindergarten, her mind is simply wiped clean. Then, after struggling through first grade and barely keeping up, the next summer vacation wipes her mind clean again and she starts over again for second grade. What would be the result? Although they might grow physically and keep advancing in grade levels, she will never have the necessary knowledge upon which to build in the higher grades. She will remain forever a child, needing somebody to instruct her over and over again about basic, foundational principles.

Similarly, the whole church must continue to pass along what she has learned throughout the past two thousand years of her growth and development. It only takes one negligent generation to forget the accumulated knowledge and wisdom of the entire history of the church. This corporate forgetfulness will result in a generation of Christians susceptible to the same kinds of struggles, errors, and deceptions successfully dealt with in the church’s past. To prevent this kind of amnesia, the church must continually look back at its history in order to apply its amassed knowledge to present circumstances and to pass it on to the next generation.

Besides the benefit of corporate maturity, individuals can grow in both knowledge and wisdom by reflecting on the past. That is, history provides us with bad examples to avoid as well as good models to follow. We can re-discover errors to avoid, better ways to defend Christian truth, questionable interpretations or applications of Scripture, and time-tested approaches to the spiritual life. The more lessons we learn from the victories and defeats of those who went before us, the better off we’ll be. This concept of looking back to the saints of old for inspiration goes all the way back to the first century.

After Hebrews 11 reviewed the lives of the Old Testament men and women of faith, the author concluded, “Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us” (12:1). The words and works of those saints who have gone before us still surround us like a cloud, inspiring us to follow their examples and avoid their mistakes. The apostle Paul also pointed out this truth:

For I do not want you to be unaware, brethren, that our fathers were all under the cloud and all passed through the sea. . . . Nevertheless, with most of them God was not well-pleased; for they were laid low in the wilderness. Now these things happened as examples for us, so that we would not crave evil things as they also craved. . . . Now these things happened to them as an example, and they were written for our instruction. (1 Cor 10:1, 5–6, 11)

It should not surprise us that immediately after the age of the apostles, their disciples began to look at the apostles’ lives as examples as well, placing them in the same category as the Old Testament lives of faith. We see this already by the year A.D. 95 in a letter from Clement of Rome, who may have been the same “Clement” Paul mentioned in Philippians 4:3. Clement wrote:

But not to dwell upon ancient examples [from the Old Testament], let us come to the most recent spiritual heroes. Let us take the noble examples furnished in our own generation. Through envy and jealousy, the greatest and most righteous pillars of the Church have been persecuted and put to death. Let us set before our eyes the illustrious apostles. Peter, through unrighteous envy, endured not one or two, but numerous labors, and when he had at length suffered martyrdom, departed to the place of glory due to him. Owing to envy, Paul also obtained the reward of patient endurance, after being seven times thrown into captivity, compelled to flee, and stoned. After preaching both in the east and west, he gained the illustrious reputation due to his faith, having taught righteousness to the whole world, and come to the extreme limit of the west, and suffered martyrdom under the prefects. Thus was he removed from the world, and went into the holy place, having proved himself a striking example of patience. (1 Clem. 5:1–7)

Throughout church history, Christians continued to remember the examples and teachings of earlier believers who had followed Christ in both life and death. At first glance they may feel remote, distant, and completely irrelevant in our modern Christian context. However, a closer examination will reveal that these men and women struggled with faith, hope, endurance, suffering, persecution, patience, and other matters of spiritual growth common to every generation. Like objects in a rear view mirror, the Christians of the past are spiritually “closer” that they appear.

Seventh, looking back will clarify our interpretation of Scripture. Just get two or three believers together for a Bible study and you soon realize that not everybody interprets the Bible exactly the same way. Sometimes they come to completely opposite conclusions. Other times they emphasize certain passages or doctrines more than others. Evangelicals have no Pope or infallible guide to govern how we read the Bible. Even when we follow the rules of methodical Bible study or the principles of exegesis, we come up with different answers.

By looking back at church history, we can see the whole history of the Bible’s interpretation and application. Tradition and history can never replace Scripture as the final authority of faith and practice, nor is it an authoritative guide on matters not mentioned in the Bible. However, gaining a historical perspective can aid our reading of Scripture in two ways that will help rule out dangerous interpretations while providing clear boundaries within which a variety of different interpretations can co-exist.

First, early testimony can provide added insight into the historical and theological context within which the New Testament itself was written and read. By “early” I mean the writings of the period overlapping with and immediately following the New Testament apostles and prophets themselves, between about A.D. 50 and 150.

We have numerous writings from this period, many of which were written by first-hand students of the original writers of Scripture. Though they aren’t infallible and their writings are not Holy Scripture, their interpretations, doctrines, and practices open a window into the teachings of the apostles themselves. The African church Father, Tertullian, writing around A.D. 200, put it this way: “On the whole, then, if that is evidently more true which is earlier, if that is earlier which is from the very beginning, if that is from the beginning which has the apostles for its authors, then it will certainly be quite as evident, that that comes down from the apostles, which has been kept as a sacred deposit in the churches of the apostles” (Tertullian, Against Marcion 4.5).

The reality is that we have at our fingertips an unbroken testimony from these early churches established by the apostles. It’s reasonable to conclude that, for example, Polycarp, a disciple of the apostle John, reflects much of John’s theology and practice in his own letter to the church in Philippi, which he wrote around A.D. 110, a couple of decades or so after John wrote his Gospel, epistles, and Revelation. The farther one gets away from the first generation of apostles, however, the less reliable these writings become in preserving the general tenor of the apostles’ teaching. So, although these earliest testimonies cannot be adopted uncritically, a reading of the New Testament in its historical context cannot afford to completely ignore these writings as tools for accurately interpreting the apostles’ writings.

Second, enduring tradition refers to those things that continue to be retained, reaffirmed, or restored in every generation of Christian history. Christ promised that He would never leave us, even to the end of the age (Matt 28:20). He also promised that the gates of Hell would not prevail against the church (Matt 16:18). We know that He is ever-present with the church by means of the Person of the Holy Spirit (John 14:16–18). Also, through the Holy Spirit the ascended Christ has gifted the church with not only first-generation apostles and prophets, but also enduring leaders called evangelists, pastors, and teachers (Eph 4:11). The implication is that the truth-telling and life-giving ministry of the Holy Spirit will prevail in the church against the hellish attacks of Satan. So, if individual leaders, whole churches, or even most of the universal Christian church might stray from the fundamental saving doctrines of the faith, the Holy Spirit will shepherd the church back to a proclamation of the Gospel in its purity.

What does this mean for our reading of Scripture as it relates to church history? Simply this: that we can discern certain core doctrines that have stood unchanged throughout the history of the church. The degree of continuity in these matters is remarkable, as they include every generation, span every continent, and transcend all denominational lines. When we become aware of these central, unifying core truths of the faith that have endured throughout history, they can serve as a reminder of the boundaries of orthodoxy—the rules within which believers have freedom to responsibly interpret Scripture, but out of which believers must never stray. As Vincent of Lerins wrote in A.D. 434, “We take the greatest care to hold that which has been believed everywhere, always, and by all” (Vincent of Lérins, Commonitorium 2).

Looking back will help safeguard evangelical interpreters of the Bible from either denying central dogmas of the Christian faith (contracting the core), or from centralizing opinions about what the Bible says (expanding the core). While diversity in less clear and central doctrinal issues is to be expected, the core of the faith must never change. It has been once for all delivered to the saints (Jude 3). But in order for evangelicals to know the boundaries of their biblical interpretations, they must know which biblical doctrines are primary. Looking back at the history of how the Spirit corrected, disciplined, pruned, and grew the church in its doctrinal understanding will help believers clarify their interpretation of Scripture.

Why Travel the Ancient Paths? Part 2

2010-09-07T07:34:00.000-07:00

In Part 1 of this series I described the first three of seven reasons for concerning ourselves with the history of the Christian faith as we seek to live as faithful Christians today. I argued that thinking historically will cure our ignorance of the past, curb the arrogance of our present, and conserve the faith for the future. In this essay we explore the next two reasons for traveling the ancient paths as we cut our way into the unknown future.

Fourth, looking back will connect us to a rich legacy. Picture the Christian church throughout history as a giant tree that has continually grown for generations. Some of its branches have gone one way, some another. Some are more in line with their roots in the apostolic church and the straight trunk of the first few centuries. We might call this trunk the “ancient catholic church” as opposed to later developments in the Western (Roman) Catholic and Eastern Orthodox traditions. Other branches, unworthy of the tree, have withered and fallen off.

Now picture your place on this massive tree. Your own church is but a tiny leaf, hanging from a small twig, shooting from a thin branch, attached to a large limb, connected to a thick bough, growing from a massive trunk. The diverse Christian churches today (the various branches of the tree) are not united to each other through visible, institutional unity. However, every generation has been connected to the apostolic and ancient church by legitimately receiving the core beliefs and practices.

For example, every believer who has been baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit was baptized by somebody who had also been baptized by a predecessor. This line of baptism, though it may have taken various forms throughout history, connects present-day believers to the church of the first century (let’s set aside the debate between believer’s and infant baptism for the moment). The same may be said of ordination. Those ministers today who have been tried, tested, and approved by other ordained ministers stand in a long and ancient line of those who had been themselves ordained by the “laying on of hands,” a practice which reaches back to the apostles themselves. Finally, evangelicals are also connected to the rich legacy of their Christian heritage by receiving—intact and unadulterated—the apostolic and prophetic Scriptures as well as the core message of the Christian faith, the Gospel. Many participate further through orders of worship, hymns, liturgies, and denominational structures, which were passed down from previous generations.

In each case, evangelical Christians already participate in this historical tradition passively, unconsciously, and uncritically. That is, they have passively received these core beliefs and practices by virtue of being evangelicals. These things were absorbed, as it were, without much conscious intentionality. As a result, they received them uncritically. This means that any distortions, additions, or omissions that may have accompanied their reception were also received without their knowledge. For example, those who received the Scriptures did so in a certain translation or accompanied by a particular pattern of interpretation. They learned the Gospel message in a specific form or as part of a larger catechism, doctrinal statement, confession, or creed. Their approach to baptism took a certain form with regard to its candidates, timing, and mode. Their practice of ordination was either more or less formal, depending on their tradition. And their worship happened to reflect a certain style—liturgical or extemporaneous, traditional or contemporary. Many evangelicals have received these “traditions” without reflecting on how these things have connected them to people of the past about whom they know so little.

By looking back, evangelicals can connect to their own tradition actively, consciously, and critically. They can seek out their spiritual ancestors, experiencing familiarity and a feeling a kinship with the people of faith who preserved Scripture, took a stand for the Gospel, reformed church practice, and glorified God with their words and works. They can see their own particular traditions in light of a broader spectrum of emphases and practices, understanding their own church’s attitudes and actions in light of its history. By re-establishing an active and conscious connection with their rich legacy, they will also be equipped to sort through the positive, negative, and neutral aspects of their beliefs and practices, led by more than personal preference and blind traditionalism.

Connecting to a rich legacy of the ancient and enduring faith will therefore add a previously unknown depth to personal faith and corporate worship. It has the power to shape the identity of both individual believers and local churches. This identity will help us to transcend our own lonely and seemingly insignificant places on the greater tree, making us aware of the fact that we are all part of something far bigger than ourselves.

Fifth, looking back will counter the claims of critics. Prior to the eruption of World War II, between 1925 and 1935 a frantic France fortified the long border it shared with Germany. The “Maginot Line”—named after the man who conceived the idea—included a network of bunkers, forts, tunnels, and fortifications for thousands of soldiers. For all practical purposes, the Maginot Line was impenetrable. The French army had prepared to fend off a frontal assault from the Germans . . . and history proved that the defenses were successful.

But the Germans didn’t bother to penetrate the Maginot Line.

They went around it!

Because of a treaty with Belgium to their north, which stood between them and Germany, the French had not anticipated that the Nazis would simply roll through Belgium to circumvent the Maginot Line. But they did. The Germans found the weakest point in France’s defense and exploited it. They found, as it were, an unguarded back door.

As we saw in chapter 1, evangelicalism has spent over a century building up its fortifications first against the destructive skepticism of modernist secularism and more recently against postmodern cynicism. To hold the line, they set guards on the borders of biblical inerrancy and secured the doctrines that directly related to the Gospel message. At the same time the sent forth an army of evangelists, missionaries, apologists, and teachers to take new ground. But in the process of fortifying the obvious points of direct attacks, they neglected their ancient, foundational heritage.

The result? In the last few decades clever critics and sneaky scholars have switched their assaults from attacks on the Bible, theology, and personal faith, to an all-out assault on the Achilles’ heal of evangelicalism: the history of Christianity. Their attacks have left Christians scrambling to defend a history they had forgotten and saints they had forsaken. Remember the panic over the silly and inaccurate historical claims in The Da Vinci Code? That was a minor blip on the radar of the advancing army of much more persuasive critics who are writing books, appearing on television programs, and teaching our college kids.

If you ever saw just the first thirty seconds of the movie Braveheart, you heard a line that summarizes the critics’ view of church history: “History is written by men who hang heroes.” These scholars say the early church Fathers changed the real human Jesus from a controversial Rabbi and idealistic martyr into a risen Savior and God that bears no resemblance to the historical Jesus. They claim the early catholic Christians browbeat those who opposed them, selected Christian writings that agreed with their positions, and then rewrote the history to make it look like their view had been the original view of Jesus and the apostles, and that all other views were unfairly declared to be “heretical.”

It all boils down to this: Did the early church Fathers after the apostles preserve and defend the faith or did they pervert and destroy it? Did the Protestant Reformers restore Christianity to a condition similar to the early church Fathers, or did they create a new religion from scratch? Are the early Fathers and later Reformers “heroes” or “heretics”? Who are those people that we implicitly trust to have accepted the right Scriptures and rejected the wrong ones? How do we know they could discern the difference between correct teachings about Jesus and false doctrines?

Most evangelicals have no idea how to respond to these questions and deflect the attacks.

The time has come for evangelicals to re-fortify this vulnerable target, so when critics launch their inevitable attacks we won’t lose the battle on our own soil. We need to strengthen our levee, so when the storms of controversy rise we won’t be flooded with needless doubts. And we need to inspect our historical foundations, so we can adorn this 2000-year-old temple of the church with gold, silver, and precious stones instead of wood, hay, and straw (1 Cor 3:12–13).

Why Travel the Ancient Paths? Part 1

2010-09-02T20:44:00.000-07:00

Thus says the LORD:

“Stand by the roads, and look,

and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is;

and walk in it, and find rest for your souls.”

—Jeremiah 6:16, ESV

I’ve heard this question a lot over the years. In an attempt to highlight the indispensable value of historical perspective in the Christian life, I’ve come up with seven important reasons:

• It will cure our ignorance of the past
• It will curb the arrogance of our present
• It will conserve the faith for the future
• It will connect us to a rich legacy
• It will counter the claims of critics
• It will cultivate Christian growth
• It will clarify our interpretation of Scripture

In this essay, I’ll explain the first three reasons for looking in our rear-view mirrors as we seek to drive forward into the future.

First, looking back will cure our ignorance of the past. Too many evangelicals are walking around in a constant state of what we might call “duja vé.” No, not déja vu—you know what that is: the odd feeling that this has happened before. Duja vé, on the other hand, is just the opposite: it’s that nagging feeling that none of this has ever happened before. But the truth is, throughout the church’s history Christians have pretty much dealt with every kind of doctrinal and practical challenge you can imagine. Ecclesiastes 1:9–10 puts it this way: “What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun. Is there a thing of which it is said, ‘See, this is new’? It has been already in the ages before us.”

That’s not the same as saying “history repeats itself.” Unless you’re stuck in some sort of bad sci-fi flick, that’s just not possible. However, history does approximate itself. Or, as Mark Twain once put it, “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it rhymes.” By simply curing our ignorance of the past, we will begin to feel less alone in our own trials, temptations, struggles, challenges, and failures. Sometimes simply knowing our history can give us wisdom in addressing current issues.

Let me give you a real life illustration of how knowledge of the past can provide wisdom for the present. A church board of elders was one debating a financial shortfall in their missions fund, which had always been kept completely separate from the weekly offerings for the “general fund.” When a church member gave an offering on Sunday morning, they had to designate whether they wanted their money to go into the general fund or the missions fund. So when the missions fund lagged behind in offerings, the church board considered simply rolling the missions fund into the general fund and treating it like any other item in the general budget. However, members of the missions committee protested, claiming that the missions fund had been kept separate from the general fund all these generations in order to demonstrate the church’s high priority of missions. To collapse one fund into the other would be tantamount to betraying the church’s vibrant missionary outreach.

However, had the board known its own local church’s history, they would have had a little better perspective on just how the “missions fund” ended up separated from the general fund. You see, about a hundred years earlier that independent had been a member of a larger denomination. As part of that denomination, the local church sent monthly contributions to the central office to support the denomination’s missionary efforts. Because of this, members had a choice whether to give to the local church’s fund or to contribute to the amount sent to the home office. When the church broke away from the denomination, they kept the two funds separate, but used the mission giving to support their own missionaries. After several generations, the church leadership actually forgot why the two funds were originally separate, and in lieu of the original answer, lost in history, they invented a new explanation. Having some historical perspective on the origin of their own tradition would have given them much-needed wisdom in determining the best course of action for the future.

Though the ignorance in this particular example was rather harmless, other cases of ignorance of the past could potentially lead to disaster. This is why the Bible speaks of ignorance itself as a source of sin. Hosea 4:6 says, “My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge; because you have rejected knowledge, I reject you from being a priest to me. And since you have forgotten the law of your God, I also will forget your children.” Lack of knowledge led to the leaders’ forgetfulness, which led to forsaking the law.

Second, looking back will curb the arrogance of our present. Some evangelicals might define “church history” as “the study of how everybody misinterpreted the Bible until we came along.” In fact, on several occasions I’ve heard people actually say, “I don’t care if I’m the first person in history to read the Bible this way. If that’s what Scripture says, then I’m going to believe it.” That takes a lot of unquestioned confidence in one’s own abilities to properly interpret the Bible. Don’t get me wrong. I believe in the sufficiency of Scripture, but I don’t believe in the sufficiency of me. The kind of arrogance that makes a person completely abandon the ideas of the past is what C. S. Lewis once called “chronological snobbery.” He defined chronological snobbery as

the uncritical acceptance of the intellectual climate common to our own age and the assumption that whatever has gone out of date is on that account discredited. You must find why it went out of date. Was it ever refuted (and if so by whom, where, and how conclusively) or did it merely die away as fashions do? If the latter, this tells us nothing about its truth or falsehood. From seeing this, one passes to the realization that our own age is also “a period,” and certainly has, like all periods, its own characteristic illusions. They are likeliest to lurk in those widespread assumptions which are so ingrained in the age that no one dares to attack or feels it necessary to defend them. (C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy, 207–208.)

The words of an old poem by Thomas S. Jones haunt me. Grown men often look backward over their lives and reflect on where they came from. But Jones presents the opposite perspective: what if the younger version of me were to peer forward and see what kind of person I have become? Jones wrote:

Across the fields of yesterday

He sometimes comes to me,

A little lad just back from play—

The lad I used to be.

And yet he smiles so wistfully

Once he has crept within,

I wonder if he hopes to see

The man I might have been.

—Thomas S. Jones, Jr., “Sometimes”

These words can be applied to the church as a corporate body. I often wonder what the by-gone generations of Christianity might think if they could cross “the fields of yesterday” and see what had become of the faith they lived and died for. I constantly ask myself the question, if the church Fathers or Protestant Reformers were to show up at my church, would they worship . . . or run? The more I study the unyielding faith of the early Fathers and the unquenchable passion of the Protestant pastors, I can’t help but reckon our current disdain for the past as simple arrogance of the most misguided kind.

Third, looking back will conserve the faith for the future. The apostle Jude urged Christians to “contend earnestly for the faith which was once for all handed down to the saints” (Jude 1:3). The verb for “handed down” is paradidomai, the Greek word referring to a sacred trust or tradition. Paul described this tradition as he handed it down to the Corinthians: “Now I make known to you, brethren, the gospel which I preached to you, which also you received, in which also you stand. . . . For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received” (1 Cor 15:1, 3). This is the same language used by Jude for receiving the tradition and sending it forward to the future. In this case the thing “received” and “handed down” is the gospel of Jesus Christ—the central truths of the faith.

Paul also wrote letters to his younger disciple, Timothy, for the purpose of encouraging the next generation to faithfully convey the core Christian tradition into the future. He wrote, “Continue in the things you have learned and become convinced of, knowing from whom you have learned them” (2 Tim 3:14). He also said, “The things which you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses, entrust these to faithful men who will be able to teach others also” (2 Tim 2:2). By observing what our spiritual forefathers fought to preserve and pass on, we come to understand and appreciate the need to continue this pattern established by 2 Timothy 2:2. By looking back, evangelicals today can learn how to conserve and convey the timeless message through time-tested methods.

Who Said It?

2010-04-29T21:28:00.000-07:00

UPDATE: 6/1/2010

ANSWER: Pope Boniface II (Bishop of Rome from 530-532).

COMMENT: I find it ironic that when it comes to the question of "sin and grace" Pope Boniface II is more Protestant than many Evangelicals today. As many of you know, Luther, Zwingli, and Calvin could have said (and often did say) things like this about our utter depravity and inability and the need for God's direct act of grace for us to believe or do anything good in the eyes of God. Does this mean as a whole that Evangelicals today would have actually resisted the Protestant Reformation over its most fundamental issue of soteriology?

Without googling, can you guess who said it? All quotes come from the same source.

"True faith in Christ and the beginning of every good intention is inspired in the mind of each person through the intervention of God’s grace."

"Faith itself comes to us from grace."

"The faith by which we believe in Christ . . . comes to individual persons from the gift of heavenly grace."

"The faith by which we believe in Christ is bestowed by the intervention of divine grace."

"Without God’s grace no one can will, begin, perform, or accomplish anything good in God’s sight."

"The divine mercy intervenes on our behalf while we are still refusing in order to make us willing; it is upon us when we will; and it follows us so that we will continue in faith."

Is the Virgin Birth Doctrine Really All That Necessary?

2010-04-19T23:13:00.000-07:00

How important is it that Christians believe in the virgin birth? This may seem like a strange question, as most reading this probably wouldn’t dream of doubting the miracle of the virgin conception. It’s clearly taught in Scripture (Matt 1:18, 23; Luke 1:34–35), consistently believed throughout church history, and once we’ve accepted miracles like the resurrection of Jesus or the splitting of the Red Sea, it’s really not all that hard to believe that God could pull off a virgin conception. In fact, our understanding of the physiology of human procreation—especially in light of modern developments in reproductive technology—makes the miracle of a mother having a child without a father seem less, well, miraculous.

Nevertheless, the contemporary minimalist focus on things “absolutely essential for salvation” has pushed the virgin birth to the margins of what are often called “primary doctrines.” Now, it’s not that evangelicals are eager to abandon the virgin birth. Rather, almost all retain the doctrine “as is,” but some are now allowing for less conservative (let’s avoid the label “liberal” for now) Christians to redefine the doctrine and still claim to be heaven-bound believers. The argument goes like this: all that’s necessary for salvation is belief that Jesus is God and man who died for our sins and rose from the dead. According to some, that’s the sum of the tightly-packaged “simple gospel message” in the key New Testament passages (Romans 1:1–4; 1 Corinthians 15:1–4). There’s no clear mention of the virgin birth outside the Gospels, and only two of those, Matthew and Luke, bothered to include it. So, some less strict evangelicals, still regarding the doctrine as true, don’t make it an indispensable part of the Gospel message. And if it’s not a necessary part of the Gospel, then it’s not necessary for salvation. At least that’s how the argument tends to unfold with the “minimalist message” approach to the Gospel. For fear of adding too much confusing (or unbelievable?) content, the so-called superfluous elements are stripped away, leaving such secondary items to be handled after initial conversion.

So, three tendencies emerge when dealing with the doctrine of the virgin birth—1) rejecting it (flat out disbelief); 2) redefining it (finding the spiritual meaning of the mythical metaphor); or 3) re-categorizing it (demoting it to a secondary doctrine, true and good, but unnecessary for salvation).

My question to those who reject or redefine the doctrine of the virgin birth is always the same—why? What’s so offensive about the miracle of a virgin conception that would force us to regard it as either a loony legend or a meaningful myth? If a person reads a passage like Matthew 1:18 and says, “That’s ridiculous” or “That can’t possibly mean this,” I wonder what that same person does with the miracle of Christ’s bodily resurrection. (That’s a rhetorical question. I know what they do with it.) I have no patience for this kind of rejection or redefinition of the virgin conception. Those positions have no place within the Christian tradition. Never have, never will.

But is the miracle of the virgin conception of Jesus necessary for orthodox theology? Is it best to re-categorize it from “dogma” to “doctrine”? From “central” to “peripheral”? From “primary” to “secondary”? Often evangelical theologians and pastors argue for retaining the centrality of the virgin conception for a soteriological reason related to the work of Christ—His atoning death on the cross. The argument is that if Jesus had been the natural child of Joseph and Mary, then He would have inherited the stain of Adam’s sin. Jesus would have then been born a sinner who was Himself in need of redemption and therefore unable to pay the price for other sinners. Sounds reasonable enough, doesn’t it? But it assumes that sin and guilt are passed down only through the father’s seed, a doctrine not clearly taught in Scripture.

Another reason often cited for keeping the virgin conception primary is a bibliological reason. The argument goes like this: the Bible clearly teaches the virgin birth of Christ. In fact, it even prophesies the virgin birth in Isaiah 7. So, to deny the virgin birth is to deny the truthfulness of the Bible. And to deny the truthfulness of the Bible leads to potential doubt about everything it teaches. Such doubt undermines what the Bible says about sin, Christ, and salvation. So, every clear doctrine—and especially the virgin birth—becomes a primary issue for the Christian faith. Okay, I get it. But is an unbeliever really expected to believe everything in the Bible before he or she is regenerated by the Spirit? Would we need to convince a person that Peter literally found a coin in a fish’s mouth before we regarded that person’s confession of faith to be genuine? Would we check our new convert’s salvation pulse if she thought the story of Jonah might be a parable? Probably not. Most of us would likely say that a proper understanding of the inspiration and inerrancy of Scripture comes early in the process of discipleship, not as a pre-requisite for conversion.

Yet there’s more important reason for retaining the centrality of the virgin conception—a christological reason. For me the necessity of the virgin birth relates primarily to the person of Christ—one of the fundamental pillars of the Gospel message itself. You see, the miracle of the virgin conception is not so much a miracle of a woman becoming pregnant without the contribution of a man. There are scientists alive today who could pull that off! The real miracle of the virgin conception is the incarnation of God the Son. The fact is, without the virgin conception, there could be no incarnation. There could be a Jesus of Nazareth possessed by a divine being, but not the God-man, two complete natures in one unique Person. Rather, He would be a complete human person who was adopted by the divine Person, an “indwelled” human being, no different from the way the Holy Spirit indwells a believer in Christ. In short, rejecting the doctrine of the virgin conception results in an adoptionist—not incarnational—christology.

When God the Son took on humanity, He did not adopt a human person. Yes, He took on full humanity—with body and soul, with human mind, human emotion, and human will. But to accomplish true incarnation (rather than adoption), there could be no personhood in the womb apart from incarnation. When the person, Jesus of Nazareth, began to grow in the womb, He had to already be divine and human, two natures in one person. Had Mary become pregnant the natural way, the divine Son would have descended upon a human being who was already a person. This would have resulted in two natures and two persons, the opposite of incarnational Christology. What would have been the result? A radically different Jesus than the One who died and rose again. Paul warns against those who preach “another Jesus” other than the One He preached (2 Corinthians 11:4). A different Jesus quite clearly constitutes a “different gospel, which is really not another” (Galatians 1:6–7).

So, Christians should not only take a stand against rejecting or redefining the doctrine of the virgin conception of Christ. We should resist the trend to re-categorize it as non-essential, or we’ll lose the essential truth of the Gospel—the Person of Jesus Christ, who alone, as fully God and fully man in one Person, is able to accomplish the work of redemption for us.

Beyond the Preference-Driven Church: Revisiting the Marks and Works of the Church, Part 6—EDIFICATION

2010-04-17T17:59:00.000-07:00

Having completed our examination of the three essential Marks of Orthodoxy, Order, and Ordinances, we began a survey of the second pillar of the church’s essential Works with a discussion of Evangelism. In this current essay, the sixth in a seven-part series on the essential Marks and Works of a local church, I want to add the second essential Work of a local church—Edification.

Edification is best defined as “building up” believers in the faith, including teaching, discipleship, the means of sanctification, and discipline. Unlike the Work of evangelism, edification is directed toward the Church, not the world. That is, only those who have been converted to Christ can grow in Him. Edification is included in the second part of Jesus’s command in the Great Commission. The Savior charged the apostles to “go and make disciples, baptizing them [that’s the result of evangelism] . . . and teaching them to observe all I have commanded you [that’s edification]” (Matt 28:19). In the Work of edification, the disciple-maker’s role is to teach and model. The disciple’s role is to learn and follow.

Edification Requires Practical Teaching

As a child I once tried putting my schoolbooks under my pillow at night, hoping that by mystical osmosis the information from the books would pass into my brain and I wouldn’t have to actually study. The result? A stiff neck and a bad grade! Sadly, this is how some Christians live their spiritual lives. They believe that by some mystical, supernatural hocus-pocus the Holy Spirit will simply grow them toward maturity apart from any actual teaching, instruction, or active participation in the life of the church. They think that spiritual growth will “just happen” through their passive presence in a church building for a few hours. Strangely, they spend the other 99% of their week wondering why they’re living a defeated Christian life.

The truth is that we all need to develop an “Ezra” complex. When that great Jewish leader re-discovered the long-lost Scriptures, he “set his heart to study the law of the LORD and to practice it, and to teach His statutes and ordinances” (Ezra 7:10). Did you catch that? Study it . . . practice it . . . teach it. That takes some effort! Oh, and as you work hard at studying and practicing, don’t forget Peter’s stern warning against the “untaught” who “distort” the Scriptures to their own destruction (2 Peter 3:16). Learning God’s Word was never meant to be an “independent study” or “correspondence course.” Rather, God gave teachers to the churches to equip the saints. Ephesians 4:11–13 says, “And He gave some as apostles, and some as prophets, and some as evangelists, and some as pastors and teachers, for the equipping of the saints for the work of service, to the building up of the body of Christ; until we all attain to the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to a mature man, to the measure of the stature which belongs to the fullness of Christ.”

Thus, a major emphasis in a healthy local church must be the unapologetic preaching, teaching, and application of God’s inspired Word. Clearly this aspect of edification requires a robust order of qualified leaders and mentors as well as a clear sense of biblical orthodoxy (see previous essays on these two essential Marks of a church, hyperlinked in the first paragraph above).

Edification Requires Persistent Prayer

If teaching engages the mind of the local church, prayer engages the heart and soul. Without prayer, edification is impossible. Notice what Paul prayed for in Philippians 1:9–11—“And this I pray, that your love may abound still more and more in real knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve the things that are excellent, in order to be sincere and blameless until the day of Christ; having been filled with the fruit of righteousness which comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God.” What a request! When was the last time you prayed for the edification of your fellow believers in the church? In Ephesians 6:18 Paul urges his readers to “pray at all times in the Spirit” as the essential key to perseverance in the midst of spiritual warfare. In fact, just a brief survey of the book of Acts reveals how vital prayer was for the growth of the infant church (Acts 1:14; 2:42; 3:1; 4:31; 6:4; 10:2; 12:5; etc.).

But Jude most explicitly ties prayer to edification when he writes, “But you, beloved, building yourselves up on your most holy faith [that’s edification!], praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in the love of God, waiting anxiously for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to eternal life” (Jude 20–21). Clearly, prayer is the spiritual lifeblood of the local church.

Edification Requires Consistent Discipline

Edification also includes discipline, which we might call the “negative” aspect of applying God’s Word. Sometimes when believers have hardened their hearts against the truths of Scripture, discipline is required, just as a child requires discipline from his parents to learn and grow. Jesus describes in Matthew 18:15–17 how this discipline is to be formally applied in a local church: “If your brother sins, go and show him his fault when the two of you are alone. If he listens to you, you have regained your brother. But if he does not listen, take one or two others with you, that at the testimony of two or three witnesses every matter may be established. If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church. If he refuses to listen to the church, treat him like a Gentile or tax collector.”

The notion of “excommunication” comes from the biblical concept of church discipline. God has charged the leadership of a local church with the task of maintaining proper discipline among the congregation. This includes protecting the sanctity of the ordinances, which may mean preventing unruly saints from participating in the Lord’s Table as the rite of fellowship (see 1 Corinthians 5:9–13). This may seem harsh in our “anything goes” culture, but anything less than proper discipline threatens not only the Work of edification in the local body, but also damages the Marks of order and the ordinances.

Practical teaching. Persistent prayer. Consistent discipline. These things may not be on your list of favorite activities. Taking them seriously might actually mean rearranging your priorities, shuffling your schedules, or renewing your commitments. But only when we devote ourselves to edification of the local church through teaching, prayer, and discipline will we rise above the languishing preference-driven church.

Conversion + Twenty Years

2010-04-15T22:11:00.000-07:00

Twenty Easters ago, during the week of April 15, 1990, I converted to Christianity from paganism. In commemoration of that occasion, I want to recount my story of how I wandered to the faith.

Presbyterian and Lutheran

I was born in Minnesota to a working class family more or less disinterested in religion. We were typical blue-collar Minnesotans, like what you see in the “let’s-make-fun-of-Minnesota” movies. I grew up in a church that was a merger of liberal Lutheran and liberal Presbyterian churches. My home town of Keewatin couldn’t really sustain two Protestant churches, so the Presbyterian and Lutheran congregations got together and realized they already had a lot of things in common. They had authentic potlucks in which you could literally end up with a buffet of baked beans. They sang the same meaningless hymns and recited the same creeds during worship. They smoked cheap cigarettes and drank weak coffee after worship (or, perhaps, as part of worship). And neither church really cared all that much about the Bible, theology, or liturgy. Having so much in common, the Lutherans and Presbyterians merged to create an unthinkable union: Congregation of the Good Shepherd Church.

Now, at the time my parents were more or less nominally Christian and they didn’t pressure us kids to conform to any rigid (and especially religious) standards. I sometimes went to church, often went to Sunday school, and generally engaged in only as much overt immorality as I could get away with and still judge my neighbors for being terrible people and worse Christians.

In my pre-teen years I specifically remember rejecting Jesus Christ. I had watched enough of Armstrong’s The World Tomorrow (Worldwide Church of God cult propaganda) to conclude that the Trinity was a false doctrine and Jesus wasn’t really God. I had some Jewish atheist friends, too (you guys know who you are!), who attempted to convince me that there was no God. I never bought that. I needed to believe in some kind of God to help explain how anything could exist. But I kept Him at a reasonable distance. I knew He was out there, somewhere, but the idea of God was as irrelevant to me as the idea of black holes or tachyon particles. Yet I had made some personal theological progress: I had decided Jesus was only a moral teacher and that the Christian religion couldn’t possibly be true because it focused too much on that one man.

Dianetics and Dent

Needless to say, without any kind of religious, moral, or spiritual conviction, my life slipped into a bit of a decline. I embraced all kinds of crazy and contradictory New Age philosophies, rebelled against my family and parents, and got involved in less than healthy relationships. I don’t blame these things (or people) per se. I take full responsibility. God bless my parents and friends for trying to snap me out of it. And bless those poor, deluded psychologists and counselors who tried to talk me (or drug me) out of it. But it just wasn’t going to work in my case, because the root of my problem was not social, medical, mental, or emotional. It was spiritual. I was a dirty, rotten, selfish, indulgent sinner. Simple as that. Now, I knew that. And God knew that. But nobody else did.

By the age of sixteen I realized that my life needed some fixing. And Prozac wasn’t going to do the trick. My self-destructive behavior had led me down a path I couldn’t sustain for much longer without irreparably harming either myself or others. So, after seeing several pretty cool commercials for Dianetics on T.V., I decided to give it a shot. I bought L. Ron Hubbard’s Dianetics: The Modern Science of Mental Health and read it in one weekend. Then I read it again. Then I took notes. Then I borrowed the L. Ron Hubbard Dianetics audio tapes from the library, which led me to start my own private auditing sessions with friends. Soon after this I acquired additional Scientology resources and got in contact with the Church of Scientology in California. A particular representative counseled me by phone and helped instruct me on how I could get more involved in Scientology personally without the advantage of an actual location in northern Minnesota. Scientology was giving me the purpose and meaning in life that I had longed for . . . with just one problem. It wasn’t really working! “Crazy Mike” was still very much alive . . . but now he was hiding behind his new “Kookie Mike” identity.

It was during my Junior year of high school that Brian Dent entered my life. He was both my public school English teacher and a local Baptist pastor. This is a bad combination, but just what I needed. He saw me studying Dianetics one day during study hall and said, “Oh . . . L. Ron Hubbard.”

I glanced up at him, sort of annoyed. “Yup.”

“He’s spending an extended vacation in the warmer regions,” he said. (This was, I later learned, the “confrontational” approach to evangelism.)

I looked up from my book. “No, no,” I said, completely misunderstanding the comment. “L. Ron Hubbard died.”

Dent smirked. “That’s what I mean.”

“You mean you think he’s in hell?”

“Absolutely,” he answered.

“Come on!” I protested. You see, I believed only evil people like Hitler, Stalin, Jack the Ripper, and Ronald Reagan went to hell. Religious people would of course go to heaven, regardless of his or her religion.

He continued: “Some time I’ll tell you the other side of that.”

Other side?! I began to dispute with him, but he was apparently not interested in engaging in a theological debate in study hall at a public school. But before he moved on he stared into my eyes and said something I’ll never forget: “Some day L. Ron Hubbard is going to disappoint you. And when he does, call me.”

I brushed Brian Dent off as the fundamentalist wacko everybody said he was.

Convention and Conversion

That Easter weekend, April 15, 1990, my friend, Jim Moore, and I attended a Star Trek/Dr. Who (sci-fi/fantasy) convention in Minneapolis. That wasn’t my first convention (nor my last). But I also used that trip to visit the Church of Scientology in the Twin Cities and participate in an official auditing session. All the while, though, God had other things in store for me that Easter weekend. While I was meandering through the “dealers’ room” at the convention, a book title caught my eye. The name “L. RON HUBBARD” jumped out at me in big yellow letters. Assuming it was a Scientology book I didn’t have yet, I asked the used book dealer if I could see it.

As he handed it to me, he said, “That’s a first edition. It may be the last. It’s in the middle of litigation and they may not print any more.” The title of the book suddenly gave me a queasy feeling: L. Ron Hubbard: Messiah or Madman? That first edition was by Bent Corydon (an ex-Scientologist) and L. Ron Hubbard, Jr. (Hubbard’s son, though his name as co-author was struck from future editions of the book). I paid an ungodly amount of money for that book and read the whole thing that weekend. The author(s) alleged a secret life of L. Ron Hubbard that, if true, would utterly discredit Hubbard and the religion he founded. Clearly the book answered the question in the title with option “b”: Madman. At first I felt like a six-year-old who just found out there was no Santa Claus. I was devastated and embarrassed. So I thought, “Well, maybe this is just propaganda by some disgruntled ex-Scientologists.” But then my mind immediately responded: “If only 10% of this book is true, then I’m in big trouble.” My hope in that New Age religion had crumbled.

Then I remembered Brian Dent’s words: “Some day L. Ron Hubbard is going to disappoint you. And when he does, call me.”

As soon as I got home from the convention that weekend, I found Dent’s number and phoned him at home. I told him, “I found a book that I think is going to change my life.” He let out a long sigh, assuming I had gotten my hands on another L. Ron Hubbard book. However, I told him what happened and that I wanted to talk to him about the “other side” of Scientology.

He invited me to his home after school the next evening and there he shared the Gospel of Jesus Christ with me. At that moment, as he flipped through the little gospel tract explaining the bridge of eternal life through Christ, my mind traveled backwards in time to a similar moment when I was just a little kid. A kind lady named Bonnie Olson had held a Good News Club in our neighborhood and had shared the very same Gospel of Jesus Christ with me when I was eight or nine. And I had heard the same message once from one of the more conservative Lutheran pastors at Congregation of the Good Shepherd. For some reason it reassured me that the same Gospel had come from several different people with different church backgrounds at different times in my life. But at that moment, in Brian Dent’s living room, everything clicked. I know that if he would have shared the Gospel with me one week earlier I would have laughed at him. If he had shared it a week later, I probably would have found some other offbeat religion to follow. But on the week of April 15, 1990, I accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as the God-Man who died for my sin and rose from the dead. In His sovereignty, God had worked all things together for good, calling me by His Holy Spirit into the Kingdom of His Son. But from my perspective at the time, I had simply wandered into the faith.

Growing and Going

That summer I began growing steadily in my new-found faith. My friends and family were convinced I had just stumbled into a new “fad” that would soon pass. But when I was baptized with a number of friends whom I had led to the Lord, my conversion to Christ was sealed. A couple of those friends were the same ones who had tried to convince me that there was no God several years earlier!

Together we all joined Old Scenic Community Church of Little Fork, Minnesota, where Brian Dent was a part time pastor. We struggled together to figure out this new Christianity thing, and we all made a load of mistakes. (I more than others!) But looking back I see God’s hand through it all. Some amazing and inexplicable things happened the following year. Things I’ll never forget. Strange and wonderful and miraculous things.

By my first year of Junior College I felt a call to some kind of ministry. I wanted to commit my life to full time Christian service so I transferred to Philadelphia College of Bible (now Philadelphia Biblical University), where I began studying Bible in preparation for Seminary. There I met my wife, Stephanie, was married, and then attended Dallas Theological Seminary, beginning my graduate studies there in 1996. We never left.

Though the content of my faith has grown and been refined over the last twenty years, it has never wavered. In fact, my confidence in the Gospel of salvation by grace through faith in Christ has strengthened over the years. Yes, I’ve had doubts, disappointments, and momentary deviations from the straight path. We all have. But the Christ has kept His promise never to forsake me, and I have always been restored to faith, courage, and a holy walk by the abiding Spirit.

Thank you, all those who have traveled with me these past twenty years . . . some of you from the very beginning of the journey.

Wort des Lebens Esra-Training, 2010… & More!

2009-12-30T16:06:00.000-08:00

I have been re-invited to teach Church History as a guest lecturer at the Wort des Lebens Esra-Training. (Word of Life Ezra Training) program in Heidesee, Germany, just outside of Berlin. Many of you may recall that this is the same course I taught last year around the same time. The Esra-Training program for young adults includes training in Bible, doctrine, church history, and a strong emphasis on hands-on ministry. I’m looking forward to returning to Germany to minister again in this setting.

At the tail end of my visit I’ll also be delivering a lecture at Connections Berlin on “Social Justice in the Early Church.” Connections is a Christian Resource Center in the heart of Berlin, offering a lending library of Christian resources, a coffee shop, and several cultural and outreach events each year to share Christ and equip believers. Through this lecture I hope show how the relevance of early Christian approaches to cultural engagement through reaching out to the hungry, homeless, and hurting.

The one-week trip is coming up in February, 2010, and I’m again seeking both financial and prayer support. The financial part is quite minimal, but I’m in great need of prayer support, so I wanted to post this request here. In particular, I’m asking for prayer for the following items:

1. Pray for God’s provision of finances, health, and safety both prior to the trip, during the week in Germany, and upon my return to the States.

2. Pray for the students at Wort des Lebens Esra-Training, that they will learn and grow through the instruction and that through them the body of Christ worldwide would be equipped and strengthened.

3. Pray for God’s protection of my family while I’m away, and especially for patience and perseverance for Stephanie as she has to keep trying to explain to Sophie, Lucas, and Nathan why their father is gone for so long.

4. Pray for the lecture at Connections. I’ll need wisdom and guidance in my preparation as well as presentation. Ask the Lord to lead the right people to that lecture, which will be publicized in the next couple months.

5. Pray for networking possibilities for expanded ministry opportunities in the future. There are a lot of needs in Germany and Europe. Through the right kind of planning and teamwork, we can make great impact during future trips.

If you are interested in committing to prayer support over the next couple months, please contact me by email, or just let me know below that you'll be keeping these items in your prayers. If you'd like, I’d be happy to send you my “official support letter.” You can find my email address information in the left-hand column.

Beyond the Preference-Driven Church: Revisiting the Marks and Works of the Church, Part 5—EVANGELISM

2009-12-22T09:19:00.000-08:00

So far in this series on the Marks and Works of the church, we explored the first pillar of a faithful and true local church—the Marks of Orthodoxy, Order, and Ordinances. To maintain a balanced Orthodoxy, we must focus on the fundamental doctrines of the Christian faith in our preaching and teaching, which excludes destructive heresy and allows diversity on non-essentials. To uphold a proper biblical church Order, church leaders (pastor-elders and deacons) must lead with wisdom and humility and the congregation must do the work of the ministry under the shepherding care of the ordained leadership. And to encourage purity and unity of the local body of believers, a church must celebrate the Ordinances of baptism as the rite of initiation into the Christian faith and the Lord’s Supper as the rite of renewal and continued fellowship.

Returning to our diagram, I want to focus on the three elements of the second pillar—the Works of the church. The essential Works of a true local church are those activities in which the church must be engaged for that organized body of believers to carry out its God-given tasks. These Works of the church are Evangelism, Edification, and Exultation. Let’s discuss the first of these three essential Works of the church.

Evangelism Defined

The Greek word euangelizo, from which we get our English word “evangelize,” means to proclaim a good message. Evangelism involves reaching out to unbelievers with the good news (“Gospel”) that Jesus Christ died for their sins and rose from the dead to bring forgiveness and new life. Evangelism is not directed toward the church, but toward the lost world. Thus, the normal venue for evangelism is not in the worship service (though it may occur here, as in 1 Corinthians 14:24-25). Rather, the most effective evangelism takes place as believers go into the world, live their everyday lives, and share the Gospel in word and deed with those God places in their paths.

The essential Work of Evangelism is most clearly articulated in Matthew 28:19. In the Great Commission Jesus ordered His disciples, “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Notice what Jesus doesn’t say here. He doesn’t say “Wait for unbelievers to come” or “Pay some seminary graduate a salary to run an outreach program.” He says, “Go!” He doesn’t say, “Go to other churches and steal their sheep” or “Place ads or hang flyers for a low-key, high-budget, non-offensive outreach event” or “Let your next-door neighbors see your bland, upper-middle-class, moralistic lifestyles and hope they somehow become curious enough about how you spend your Sunday mornings that they ask about how they, too, can be upstanding, right-leaning, well-to-do citizens.” No, He tells His disciples to “Go and make disciples of all nations.”

Clearly, Evangelism—with the goal of converting unbelievers to Christ and initiating them into the Christian faith—is an essential Work of the local church. We should never replace it with either ineffective activity or inactivity.

Evangelism and the Marks of the Church

The essential Work of Evangelism is dependent on the biblical Marks of the local church. Evangelism depends on the Mark of Orthodoxy with regard to the content of its message about Christ’s person and work, that is, the Gospel (Romans 1:1–4; 1 Corinthians 15:1–5). If a person engaged in evangelism doesn’t have an orthodox view of the fundamentals of the Gospel, that person may be involved in proselytizing, persuading, or even story-telling, but not evangelism. And a clear understanding of the essential truths of the Christian faith will help clarify our message and keep us from programmed distractions symptomatic of church leaders who don’t have a grasp of the nature and purpose of the church’s basic proclamation.

Second, the Work of Evangelism rests on proper Order in the church. The pastoral elders are to equip the congregation for the work of evangelism. They are to lead by example and to train the members of the church in both orthodox teaching concerning the Gospel and how to share it with others. The teaching elders of the church serve as excellent resources when Christians doing the work of evangelism encounter non-Christian religions, false Christian sects, or difficult questions and challenges from unbelievers. Being able to turn to church leaders who have training and experience in such areas has great value for the church’s work of evangelism. Thus, the leaders of the church play a major role in preparing the church for the work of evangelism (Ephesians 4:11-12).

Finally, the Work of Evangelism is also related to the Mark of Ordinances. Matthew 28:19 says we are to make disciples from among the nations by “baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Baptism is the act that signifies the end of the evangelism for the new believer and the beginning of the Work of Edification, or growing as a disciple of Christ. Many churches have too long de-emphasized this profound and powerful moment when a person’s inward conviction of faith is expressed through a public act of confession.

Everyone’s an Evangelist

I sometimes hear members of the church say things like “The church needs to do more outreach” or “The church needs to focus more on evangelism” or “The church doesn’t baptize enough new believers.” But if we’re the church, the problem is with us, not some invisible corporate entity called “the church.” If we wait around for our hyper-busy, over-burdened, time-taxed pastors and staff members to do everything we’re supposed to be doing, our churches will die. We sit back and complain that this or that ministry isn’t drawing people to our churches. Or we worry that visitors won’t come back if we don’t offer them such and such amenity. But more often than not the problem isn’t with the ministry, the music, or the media. The problem is with us—the messengers!

Evangelism is not only the work of the gifted and trained “evangelist” or the elders of the church. Evangelism is the work of every believer. Each of us has a sphere of influence among unsaved family members, friends, co-workers, and acquaintances we meet regularly. In fact, church members have more contact with unsaved people than full time church workers! Remember, the role of the leadership of the church is to do the work of the ministry alone, but to equip the saints for the work of service (Ephesians 4:12). If you’re a saint, you’re an evangelist!

The sad reality of church growth in America in general is that few churches grow through the work of evangelism. Most church growth comes from good old fashioned saint-rustling. We think that if they aren’t branded, they’re free for the taking! And even if they are members of another local church, we usually have no qualms about encouraging them to break their covenant commitment to that other community and to join our own. (When will we learn that if they’ll break their commitment to them for us, one day they’ll break their promise to us for somebody else!) Let me challenge all you churches engaged in programmatic sheep-stealing as a means of church growth: are all those flaky church-hoppers really worth it? Do you really want to build your church with weak and wobbly stones already misshapen and set in their ways? You decide.

Church growth today also focuses on peripherals and showmanship rather than on personal evangelism. Why is it that when numbers decline and people don’t come to our church events, we scratch our heads and try to decide what piece of furniture to plant in the lobby, what gimmick to add to the worship service, or what P.R. stunt to pull in order to get people “out there” to notice us? Or how often have we pointed fingers at this or that pastor, worship leader, or staff member and said, “He's the reason we’re shrinking! Get HIM!” And we start looking for somebody more attractive or more charismatic to wake us from our self-induced spiritual coma. How pathetic. Let’s set the gimmicks aside, call off the posse, and just go back to the ancient, time-tested, fool-proof method of authentic church growth: Evangelism.

Cosmetic modifications to our buildings (or new multi-million-dollar megaplexes!), radical program overhauls, or ministry staff restructuring just won’t do the trick. Those preference-driven changes will never bring the heart transformation most congregations need in order to renew their passion for evangelism and missions. In fact, those external fixes, which are usually extremely expensive, inordinately time-consuming, and exceptionally controversial, mostly distract us from the internal commitment of the church members to rescue the perishing and initiate them into a living, growing community of faith. Until we redirect our time, efforts, and funds to the essential Work of Evangelism, we’ll continue to have a tough time overcoming the diminishing effectiveness of the preference-driven church.

Delirious Melons: Watermelons, Cucumbers, and Gourds in Early Christian Polemics

2009-12-21T18:38:00.000-08:00

As a child, every year during the week leading up to Halloween I would sit in front of the television and watch the drama of Shulz’s It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown painfully unfold before my eyes. With increasing consternation I’d witness Linus’s perennial misplaced faith decimated as he waited in vain for the Great Pumpkin to rise out of the pumpkin patch, fly through the air, and deliver toys to all the good little children in the world.

Of course, every year Linus’s gullible sister Sally, betrayed by her brother’s cultish fanaticism, unleashed her rage toward Linus for tricking her into yet another year of utter disappointment:

I was robbed! I spent the whole night waiting for the Great Pumpkin when I would’ve been out for Tricks or Treats! HALLOWEEN IS OVER AND I MISSED IT! You blockhead! You kept me up all night waiting for the Great Pumpkin, and all that came was a BEAGLE! I didn't get a chance to go out for Tricks or Treats, and it was all YOUR fault! I’LL SUE! What a fool I was! I could have had candy, apples, and gum; and cookies and money and all sorts of things! But NO! I had to listen to YOU! You blockhead! What a fool I was! Tricks or Treats comes only once a year, and I miss it by sitting in a pumpkin patch with a blockhead! YOU OWE ME RESTITUTION!

So, from an early age I associated the pumpkin with disappointment. It became a symbol of deception, a sacrament of folly, a seal of derision. But it wasn’t until my study of patristics that I came to realize that this association has a prominent place in ancient Christian polemics. For example, in his famous diatribe against Valentinus’s imagined system of emanations, Irenaeus of Lyons chose to lob metaphorical gourds, cucumbers, and melons at his opponents:

Iu, Iu! Pheu, Pheu!—for well may we utter these tragic exclamations at such a pitch of audacity in the coining of names as he has displayed without a blush, in devising a nomenclature for his system of falsehood. For when he declares, “there is a certain Proarche before all things, surpassing all thought, whom I call Monotes” and again, “with this Monotes there co-exists a power which I also call Henotes,” it is quite obvious that he confesses the things which have been said to be his own invention, and that he himself has given names to his scheme of things, which had never been previously suggested by any other. It is obvious also that he himself is the one who has had sufficient audacity to coin these names; so that, unless he had appeared in the world, the truth would still have been destitute of a name. But, in that case, nothing hinders any other, in dealing with the same subject, to affix names after such a fashion as the following: There is a certain Proarche, royal, surpassing all thought, a power existing before every other substance, and extended into space in every direction. But along with it there exists a power which I term a Gourd; and along with this Gourd there exists a power which again I term Utter-Emptiness. This Gourd and Emptiness, since they are one, produced (and yet did not simply produce, so as to be apart from themselves) a fruit, everywhere visible, eatable, and delicious, which fruit-language calls a Cucumber. Along with this Cucumber exists a power of the same essence, which again I call a Melon. These powers, the Gourd, Utter-Emptiness, the Cucumber, and the Melon, brought forth the remaining multitude of the delirious melons of Valentinus. (Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1.11.4)

Clearly in Irenaeus’s day gourds, cucumbers, and melons grew wild and free— “everywhere visible, eatable, and delicious.” This is, in fact, in keeping with Sir David Livingston’s discovery of watermelons in central Africa, where he found melon upon melon as far as the eye could see. It is equally clear that they served as ready weapons of derision—natural vehicles for communicating one’s negative estimation of another’s ideas.

This use of melons as means of mockery is seen in polemical statements in the writings of Tertullian of Carthage. In his treatise On the Soul 32, he wrote, “But the fact is Empedocles, who used to dream that he was a god and on that account, I suppose, disdained to have it thought that he had ever before been merely some hero, declares in so many words: ‘I once was Thamnus, and a fish.’ Why not rather a melon, seeing that he was such a fool?” Clearly Tertullian—like Irenaeus before him—associated melons with folly.

In Against Marcion 2.18 Tertullian commented on the insanity of the Israelites’ longing for a return to Egypt: “When, again, the law took somewhat away from men’s food, by pronouncing unclean certain animals which were once blessed, you should understand this to be a measure for encouraging continence, and recognize in it a bridle imposed on that appetite which, while eating angels’ food, craved after the cucumbers and melons of the Egyptians.” Tertullian intentionally left out other foods mentioned in Numbers 11:5 (e.g., delicious leeks and aromatic onions). This was most likely done to highlight the utter folly of the Israelites, as cucumbers and melons were already associated with idiocy in North Africa.

Perhaps the greatest passage in Tertullian illustrating the early polemical use of melons is Against Marcion 4.40—“Then, having taken the bread and given it to His disciples, He made it His own body, by saying, ‘This is my body,’ that is, the figure of my body. A figure, however, there could not have been, unless there were first a veritable body. An empty thing, or phantom, is incapable of a figure. If, however, as Marcion might say, He pretended the bread was His body, because He lacked the truth of bodily substance, it follows that He must have sacrificed bread for us. It would contribute very well to the support of Marcion’s theory of a phantom body, that bread should have been crucified! But why call His body bread, and not rather some other edible thing, say, a melon, which Marcion must have had in lieu of a heart!”

At the close of the patristic period, Augustine of Hippo denounced the Manichaeans for worshiping melons as divine. He wrote, “Tell me then, first, where you get the doctrine that part of God, as you call it, exists in corn, beans, cabbage, and flowers and fruits. From the beauty of the color, say they, and the sweetness of the taste. . . . Why do you look upon a yellow melon as part of the treasures of God, and not rancid bacon fat or the yolk of an egg?” (Augustine, On the Morals of the Manichaeans 16 [39]). The heretics’ love of melons was so extreme, that Augustine rebuked them thusly: “You feel so much more for melons than for men. Rather than hurt the melons, you would have a man ruined!” (17 [62]).

Augustine’s close association between melons and false teaching is vividly illustrated in his condemnation of the Manichaean “Elect,” who allowed their non-elect followers to conduct necessary labors forbidden to the Elect for the sake of the Elect. In return, those servants who had great merit would be reincarnated as food, and not just any food. Augustine wrote:

If they possess greater merit, they shall enter into melons or cucumbers, or some eatables which you will masticate, that they may be quickly purified by your digestion. . . . For if the faith of the gospel had any connection with such nonsense, the Lord should have said, not, ‘I was hungry, and ye gave me meat;’ but, ‘Ye were hungry, and ye ate me,’ or, ‘I was hungry, and I ate you.’ For, by your absurdities, a man will not be received into the kingdom of God for the service of giving food to the saints, but, because he has eaten them and belched them out, or has himself been eaten and belched into heaven. (Augustine, Reply to Faustus the Manichaean 5.10)

What can we conclude about these telling examples of watermelons, cucumbers, and gourds in early Christian polemics? The fact is that the vines of melons and gourds snake their way deep into the world of Church Fathers. If appeals to Holy Scripture, apostolic tradition, and episcopal authority all failed to convince heretics, the Fathers turned to a different trio of arms. Whenever their polemic called for sarcasm, they wielded the blunt cucumber like a sharp sword. When the Fathers were stirred with indignation, they hurled lush melons like fiery cannon balls. And when they wanted to expose the ridiculous doctrines of heretics, the early Fathers tossed misshapen gourds like explosive hand grenades.

Sadly, as the Dark Ages closed in, the skill of wielding cucumbers and gourds came to an abrupt end. Like so many strange and interesting doctrines of the infant Church, the brief storm of delirious melons abruptly ceased, leaving behind nothing but a fading watermark in the pages of unread history.

Beyond the Preference-Driven Church: Revisiting the Marks and Works of the Church, Part 4—ORDINANCES

2009-10-07T17:14:00.000-07:00

So far in this series on the Marks and Works of the church, we explored the first two essential Marks of Orthodoxy and Order. To maintain a balanced Orthodoxy, we must focus on the fundamental doctrines of the Christian faith in our preaching and teaching, which will exclude destructive heresy and allow for diverse views on non-essentials. To uphold a proper biblical church Order, church leaders (pastor-elders and deacons) must lead with wisdom and humility and the congregation must obey and submit to the ordained leadership. But before we move on to the essential Works of a church, we must discuss the third Mark—Ordinances.

A Rare Instance of Radical Advice

Not long ago a young man contacted me with concerns over his church’s apparent teaching and practice of communion. He reported that the pastor of their church taught that the biblical Lord’s Supper was never intended to hold a special place in church worship. Rather, the Lord’s Supper, he said, was any meal that believers enjoyed together. In fact, that Bible Church pastor boldly asserted that the traditional in-church observance of the Lord’s Supper is a “bastardization” of its original intent (these are his words, not mine!). And he added that he partook of the Lord’s Supper three times a day—whenever he broke bread with fellow believers at breakfast, lunch, or dinner!

This radical teaching sounded strange to my friend. And rightly so! All his life he had been taught that the Lord’s Supper was a special, solemn rite of the covenanted church community—an integral and special part of Christian worship. So, unsure of how to handle the situation at his church, he called me for advice. My response to him was simple: confirm that this was really what the pastor taught . . . then leave that “church” and bring as many people with him as he could.

For those of you who know my view on local church commitment, this may sound shocking. I can count on one hand the times in my life I’ve recommended that people actually leave their local churches. (See my essay, “Leaving Church” here.) However, when a church’s leadership intentionally tampers with a foundational Mark of the local church, that organization comes dangerously close to losing its legitimacy as a true biblical church. That “church” may be a teaching ministry, it may be a worship experience, and it may contribute in its own way to the nourishment and growth of believers. But without the essential biblical Marks, that organization is not a living local body of Christ.

Some of you may be scratching your heads, wondering, “What’s the big deal? It’s just the Lord’s Supper. A piece of cracker and a sip of juice—barely a crumb and hardly a swallow!” My response? If you wouldn’t leave your church over a failure to rightly observe the Lord’s Table, you don’t quite understand the essential Mark of Ordinances and the role they play in the sanctification of the church.

My View of the Ordinances

The doctrinal statement of Dallas Theological Seminary, where I teach church history and systematic theology, says this: “We believe that water baptism and the Lord’s Supper are the only sacraments and ordinances of the church and that they are a Scriptural means of testimony for the church in this age. (Matt. 28:19; Luke 22:19-20; Acts 10:47-48; 16:32-33; 18:7-8; 1 Cor. 11:26).” This brief statement on the essential Mark of Ordinances is striking in what it doesn’t say. It favors neither infant nor believer’s baptism and allows for immersion, pouring, or sprinkling. It permits the Lord’s Supper to be observed weekly, monthly, or annually. In short, besides affirming the enduring quality of the sacraments for the church, this statement allows for a number of diverse beliefs and practices regarding baptism and the Lord’s Supper.

But in light of Scripture and the early church, what more can we say about these essential Ordinances of the church?

Yes, Baptism Now Saves You!

It is undisputed that the New Testament closely relates believing, baptism, and salvation (Mark 16:16; Acts 18:8). As such, water baptism is often associated with receiving the Word, repentance, forgiveness, washing away sins, calling on Christ, and receiving the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:37–41; 22:16). Indeed, it vividly pictures a cleansed life freed from the debilitating stain of sin (Romans 6:3–4). However, before we jump to the mistaken conclusion that the rite of water baptism itself saves, forgives, or literally washes away sins, we must note that water baptism and baptism by the Holy Spirit are clearly distinguished (Acts 1:4–5). In fact, in some cases water baptism precedes baptism by the Spirit (Acts 8:14–16). In other cases Spirit baptism—received by simple faith—precedes water baptism (Acts 10:44–48).

How do we reconcile the Bible’s close connection—but clear distinction—between water baptism (the outward sign) and Spirit baptism (the inward reality)? First Peter 3:21 helps. Peter wrote that “baptism now saves you,” immediately clarifying the kind of rite he had in mind—“not a cleansing of dirt from the flesh [the physical act itself] but a pledge to God from a good conscience.” That is, the rite of water baptism is the public pledge or confession that marks a conscience already cleansed by the Holy Spirit (see Hebrews 9:14; 10:22). Thus, the ceremony of baptism must be closely associated with our conversion to Christ by grace through faith alone—but it should never be equated with it. I think the Westminster Confession of Faith presents a good biblical balance with regard to the association (but not equation) of baptism and conversion: “Although it be a great sin to condemn or neglect this ordinance, yet grace and salvation are not so inseparably annexed unto it, as that no person can be regenerated or saved, without it; or, that all that are baptized are undoubtedly regenerated” (28:5).

In short, water baptism was the exclusive response of faith to the preaching of the Gospel. Though baptism is rightly viewed as an outward sign of an inward reality, the early church would not officially recognize inward faith apart from the outward sign. Just as a public wedding initiates a man and woman into the life of marriage, public baptism initiates a believer into the visible community of Christians. As such, biblical baptism must always precede church membership, discipleship, leadership, and observance of the Lord’s Supper. I believe we deviate from the teachings of Scripture and the practice of the early church if we severely divorce saving conversion from the seal of baptism.

Yes, Christ Is Present in the Eucharist!

The ancient term “eucharist”—already used by Christians for the Lord’s Supper in the first century—comes from the Greek word, eucharistia, which simply means “thanksgiving” (see the first century historical document, Didache 9). In the apostolic age, it referred not simply to the broken bread or the poured wine, but to the observance itself—the celebration, the commemoration, the participation as a community. “Eucharist” at the time of the apostles primarily meant the prayer, confession, and fellowship that centered on re-proclaiming Christ’s incarnation, death, and resurrection—the Gospel. It included our response of reflection, repentance, reconciliation, and renewal in light of our mark of baptism and our ongoing fellowship with God and with one another.

But what do we mean by the “presence” of Christ in our observance of the Lord’s Supper? Well, here’s what I don’t mean—I don’t mean Christ has magically merged with the bread and wine. I don’t mean His spirit has left His body and descended from heaven and attached itself with the wafer and the juice. Nor am I particularly fond of all of the ancient and modern attempts at explaining how Christ is present in the Eucharist—transubstantiation, consubstantiation, real spiritual presence, and so forth. In my opinion all of these views miss the profundity of the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper and reduce this Ordinance to a thing.

What I do mean by Christ’s presence in the Eucharist is that in our right observance of the Lord’s Supper He has made good on His promise that “where two or more have gathered together” in His name—that is, according to His will, by His standards, centered on Him—then He is there, in their midst (Matthew 18:20). As we properly partake of the sacred meal He ordained, Christ graces us with His mysterious real presence by means of the Holy Spirit. Simply put, Christ doesn’t simply pass into the morsels; He is truly present at the meal. He’s not simply uniting with the food, but inviting us to fellowship. Furthermore, in a real, physical sense, Christ is present through the gathered Body of Christ, the Church, as it joins together in unity and submission to its Head. This mystical union of Christ with His Church means that where the community is present, so is Christ (see Acts 9:4–5; Rom 12:5; 1 Cor 10:16; 12:12–14; Eph 4:12–13; 5:23).

What, practically, does it mean to you and me that Christ is uniquely present in the proper observance of the Lord’s Supper? Well, think about it this way—when we pray that God will be “with” somebody, we’re actually praying for real, tangible effects, that is, for God to do something. In fact, where God is present, God is active. When we think of Christ’s presence in the observance of the Lord’s Supper, we should worry less about how He is or isn’t lingering in the bread and wine, but what He’s doing in the midst of the people. God has chosen to work through the Lord’s Supper in a way that He works in no other church practice.

One effect of Christ’s active presence is the unity and purity that result from self-examination, proclamation, and participation. In this sense, the Lord’s Supper is a means of sanctification. God has chosen to bring about sanctification of the whole church through the Lord’s Supper in a way that no other individual or corporate discipline can. When we properly observe the Ordinance, we will grow together spiritually as a family of God. However, there’s another side of his promise of participation in the “cup of blessing” (1 Cor 10:16). Failure to partake properly brings judgment in the form of weakness, sickness, and even death (1 Cor 11:29–30)!

Three Needed Responses

First, many independent Bible Church traditions have over-reacted to the Roman Catholic dogma that understands baptism and the eucharist as means of salvation rather than as means God uses in His work of sanctification. As a result, we have spent much of our time emphasizing what baptism and the Lord’s Supper don’t do, all the while neglecting the biblical teaching on what the Ordinances do. It’s time we move on from telling what baptism and the Lord’s Supper aren’t and get back to explaining what they are. We need to return to the biblical centrality of baptism as the ceremony of initiation into the community of faith . . . and the Lord’s Supper as the celebration of continued fellowship. We need to recall the indispensable role these Ordinances play in our spiritual growth as individuals and a church. There’s a reason the early church celebrated the Lord’s Supper weekly: it’s as important to spiritual growth as the apostles’ teaching and prayer (Acts 2:42)!

Second, if you or your children are unbaptized believers, what’s keeping you from taking that initial step of baptism as the public act of initiation and commitment to the Christian community? As you arrange for this act of obedience to Christ, let me urge you to follow the biblical order of the Ordinances, holding off on participation in the Lord’s Supper until you’ve been baptized. This isn’t a light matter. Proper order is a vital part of proper observance. Just as a wedding ceremony frees a man and woman to participate in the intimate act of marriage, baptism publicly confirms a believer’s devotion to Christ, allowing the believer to participate in the intimate fellowship of the Lord’s Supper. From the biblical perspective, participation in the Lord’s Supper without baptism is like shacking up before the wedding!

Finally, if you harbor unresolved conflict with a fellow member of the church or hide unrepentant sin, stop participating in the Lord’s Supper. On the authority of the Bible, if you don’t repent you will become weak, sick, and die. And as long as we as a church continue to practice the Lord’s Supper tolerating unrepentant members, the entire body will continue to suffer as it fails to experience the full blessing that comes from the presence of Christ in the right observance of the Ordinances.

Beyond the Preference-Driven Church: Revisiting the Marks and Works of the Church, Part 3—ORDER

2009-08-04T07:35:00.000-07:00

In the first article of this series, I outlined a schematic of a local church, without which a church is driven not by biblical Marks (Orthodoxy, Order, Ordinances) and Works (Evangelism, Edification, Exultation), but by cultural forms and pragmatic functions—i.e., personal or community preferences. In the previous article I focused in on the fundamental Mark of Orthodoxy, suggesting that we must be clear in what orthodoxy 1) includes (fundamentals of the faith), excludes (heretical false teachings), and allows (diversity of views on non-essentials). In this article I will explore the second vital Mark of a local church: Order, or the relationship between church leadership and the congregation.

From Orthodoxy to Order

The primary responsibility of church leadership is to safeguard the essential Marks and Works of the church, especially the foundational Mark of Orthodoxy. Paul sought to prevent the danger of heresy when he told Timothy, the pastor in Ephesus, “The things which you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses, entrust these to faithful men who will be able to teach others also” (2 Timothy 2:2). Paul earlier described the leadership in Ephesus as apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers, who were uniquely responsible “for the equipping of the saints for the work of service, to the building up of the body of Christ” (Ephesians 4:11–12). Though the offices of apostles and prophets ceased in the first century, the other offices of evangelists, pastors, and teachers were to endure until the church arrives at unity, maturity, and doctrinal stability (4:13–14)—that is, in every generation since the first century. So, the idea of gifted leaders doing the local church work of proclamation (evangelists), shepherding (pastors), and instruction (teachers) is not a man-made concept. The Holy Spirit called such men to specially-ordained offices of the church for the purpose of protecting and promoting orthodox belief and practice. And Paul’s instruction in 2 Timothy 2:2 indicates that the offices were to have a permanent quality.

In fact, Clement—a contemporary of the apostles and later the pastor of Rome around A.D. 96—recalled the establishment of this order by the apostles that remained in his own day: “The apostles have preached the Gospel to us from the Lord Jesus Christ; Jesus Christ has done so from God. Having therefore received their orders . . . . they [the apostles] appointed the first-fruits of their labors, having first proved them by the Spirit, to be overseers and deacons of those who should afterwards believe” (1 Clement 42:3–4). Later Clement wrote, “Our apostles also knew . . . that there would be strife on account of the office of the overseer. For this reason . . . they appointed those ministers already mentioned, and afterwards gave instructions, that when these should fall asleep, other approved men should succeed them in their ministry” (1 Clement 44:1–2). Just a few years later (A.D. 110), the aged pastor of Antioch and personal acquaintance of the apostles said of the ordained pastor, elders, and deacons in a local congregation: “Apart from these, there is no church” (Ignatius, Trallians 3.1). This is what we mean by the essential Mark of Order—that leadership established by the apostles intended to continue on to our own day.

Church Leadership

Through the apostles God has established an order of leaders to shepherd, train, and exhort believers. Around A.D. 58, the apostle Paul made a brief stop in Miletus where “he sent to Ephesus and called to him the elders of the church” (Acts 20:17). There he gave that specific group of officials the following charge: “Be on guard for yourselves and for all the flock, among which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to shepherd the church of God which He purchased with His own blood” (Acts 20:28). From Acts 20 we see the convergence of three key terms that identity the same body of leadership: presbyeroi (elders), episkopoi (overseers), and poimaino (to pastor or shepherd). At this early stage in the development of local church order, “elders” and “overseers” were interchangeable terms, and these officers of the church were responsible for pastoral leadership. When we read in Ephesians 4 of those men given to the church as “evangelists,” “pastors,” and “teachers,” Paul was referring to the elders of that church. About five years later the apostle Peter also used the same united trio of titles—elders-overeers-pastors—indicating that these various responsibilities rested within the same group of leaders in the churches (1 Peter 5:1–2).

As this apostolic order matured, a presiding elder, known as the “overseer” emerged as the prime among equals. Timothy and Titus were early representatives of this office, as were the “messengers” (angelos) of the seven churches mentioned in Revelation 2–3. It’s also possible that the “evangelists” (euangelistes) of Ephesians 4:11 identified this office in the local church. Equivalent to our modern day “senior pastor,” he was to lead the counsel of elders, who themselves were responsible for the preaching, teaching, and pastoring ministries of the church. So, in the biblical and early church order, all pastors were elders, and there were no elders who were not ordained, gifted, trained, and qualified men who were actively engaged in the pastoral and teaching work of the church.

Working under the authority of the ordained elders (preachers, pastors, and teachers), the deacons assisted in the work of the ministry (Philippians 1:1; 1 Timothy 3:8–13). These leaders were responsible for more than merely temporal affairs of the church. They ministered as junior leaders in whatever capacity was necessary, including the administration of the ordinances under the authority of the elders.

Neither Anarchy nor Democracy

The Bible’s description—read in light of the actual situation in the ancient church—presents a clear picture of the apostles’ established church order. The official ordained group of “pastors-overseers-elders” were in charge of teaching, preaching, shepherding (1 Timothy 5:17; Titus 1:9; James 5:14; 1 Peter 5:1–2). Some—but not all—elders were paid (1 Timothy 5:17). But all of the pastors were elders. There is no biblical or historical justification for separating elders and pastors.

The biblical church order makes it clear that the church is not an anarchy, an assembly without clearly-defined leadership. In fact, God never established any secular or sacred institution that lacked clear order. From human government (Romans 13:1) to the family (Ephesians 5:22) . . . from Israel (Exodus 22:28) to the church (Titus 1:5)—God’s institutions reflects order. Even within Triune equality, God the Father functions as the head, sending the Son and the Spirit into the world (John 14:16–17; Galatians 4:4, 6; 1 Corinthians 11:3). A groups of Christians without ordained leadership is not a church.

Neither is the church a democracy, in which final authority over the shepherds is distributed among the flock. I’m reminded of the Latin words engraved above the House Chamber of the Minnesota capitol: VOX POPULI, VOX DEI—“The Voice of the People is the Voice of God.” Unfortunately, many Christians believe this is how God leads the church—by majority rule. But not if the Bible has the final say! God intends that the local church have ordained leadership. The elders—a term synonymous with pastors and overseers—were to be the leaders of the church, to shepherd the flock as servant-leaders, yes, but as leaders nonetheless.

Some of you may be thinking, “Doesn’t this kind of elder authority rest decision-making in a select few—the pastors and teachers of the church?” Yes. This is the counter-cultural teaching of Scripture. To be sure, the covenanted members are to be involved in ministry as the Lord gifted each one (see 1 Cor 12—14; Eph 4). However, their primary relationship to the appointed elders was to submit without grumbling or complaining.

Now that’s a word Americans hate: submit. In a nation birthed in rebellion, the suggestion of submission to our human leaders sends chills up our spines. Yet Scripture is clear. The congregation was to pray for, support, and follow the leadership of the ordained pastors (Hebrews 13:7, 17). When we read the Bible in its historical context, letting it say what it says (and not what we want it to say!), then there’s nothing ambiguous, nuanced, or complex about this. Submit. Obey.

Anticipating objections, though, the writer of Hebrews adds the fact that elders will “give account for their work” to God. We often forget that since God is sovereign and Christ is the head of the Church, every elder is under the headship of God and Christ. Instead, we think they are under our headship and try to turn God’s order upside down. We treat elders like our representatives, as if they were supposed to be moved and molded by the whims of the masses or champion the agendas of their “constituents” (again, Vox Populi rears its ugly head).

In other words, both the ordained elders (pastors and teachers) and the covenanted members (congregation) each have their biblical roles and responsibilities. Leaders shouldn’t abdicate . . . and members shouldn’t usurp. Leaders should pastor . . . and members should submit. Only when we align ourselves closer to the biblical Mark of Order—and not our own personal opinions—can we move beyond the preference-driven church.

Beyond the Preference-Driven Church: Revisiting the Marks and Works of the Church, Part 2—ORTHODOXY

2009-07-18T20:20:00.001-07:00

In the first article of this series, I proposed a simple schematic illustrating the essential Marks and Works of a church. These essential Marks include Orthodoxy, Order, and Ordinances. And the vital Works include Evangelism, Edification, and Exultation. In this second article of the series I focus on the fundamental Mark of Orthodoxy.

Orthodoxy Revisited

What comes to mind when you hear the word orthodox? For some it conjures up icons, incense, altars, and priests rattling off ancient liturgies in Greek or Russian. Others might associate the term orthodox with their own personal doctrines. That is, their beliefs are orthodox, so everything else is heresy.

Actually, orthodox is a Greek word meaning “correct opinion.” As such, orthodox believers have always held to the essential, unchanging truths of the Christian faith—the “things” Paul instructed Timothy to “entrust to faithful men who will be able to teach others also” (2 Timothy 2:2). These unchanging essential truths, expressed in different language throughout history, were originally summarized in brief hymns or creedal statements that appear in the Bible (see John 1; Romans 1:1–4; 1 Corinthians 15:1–5; Philippians 2:5–11; Colossians 1:15–18; 1 Timothy 3:16). Later this same set of essential truths, usually summarized in confessional statements like the Apostles’ Creed, formed the basis for early Christian discipleship—especially preparation for baptism and admittance into the church (as is likely the case for the “elementary principles” described in Hebrews 5:12–6:5).

From an Evangelical Protestant perspective, these essential truths include, inter alia: (1) the doctrine of the Trinity—one God in three Persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; (2) the incarnation, virgin birth; atoning death, resurrection, ascension, and future return of Christ; (3) the creation, fall, and depravity of humanity; (4) salvation by grace through faith; and (5) the inspiration and authority of Holy Scripture. To err in matters of orthodoxy has always meant to err in matters that form the very heart and life of the Christian faith. For most of these issues, eternal life is at stake. For all of them, spiritual health is on the line. So heresy, the opposite of orthodoxy, is “damnable doctrine”—opinions held by false Christians.

Beyond these essential truths, various churches and denominations may have their own theological and doctrinal “preferences.” That is, their unique identities as churches or denominations are often driven by their preferences regarding everything from angels to end-times . . . from church governance to spiritual gifts. Now, there’s nothing wrong with having and teaching “distinctives.” But if a tradition allows its distinctives to invade the inner sanctuary of orthodoxy, then the Mark of Orthodoxy is actually weakened, not strengthened.

Catholicity Reclaimed

When I was in grade school, our teacher explained that most people in America were Christians. Then she polled the class: “How many of you consider yourselves to be Christians?”

All the students raised their hands . . . except one girl. She looked nervously around the room, spotted one of her friends raising her hand, and shouted, “Hey, Tina, put your hand down! We’re not Christians, we’re Catholics!”

For most Evangelicals the word “catholic” brings to mind Popes, statues, rosaries, and the Spanish Inquisition. But the term catholic actually comes from a Greek word meaning “universal” or “general” as opposed to local and particular. Ignatius of Antioch, around A.D. 110, was the first to use this term in reference to orthodox Christian churches. In order to strengthen the Mark of Orthodoxy and prevent heresy, Ignatius instructed the local church in Smyrna to trust the teachings of their bishop (or “head pastor”), Polycarp, who had been a personal student of the apostle John. Ignatius wrote, “Wherever the bishop appears, there let the congregation be; just as wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the catholic church” (Ignatius, Smyrnaeans 8.2). In this original context catholic refers to the body of Christ throughout the world under the headship of Jesus Christ (not the Pope!), just as the local church in Smyrna was under the headship of their bishop, Polycarp. (I’ll address the issue of pastors, elders, bishops, deacons, and members next time when I focus on the Mark of church Order.)

Are You an Orthodox Catholic Evangelical?

Properly understood, Evangelical Christians must be orthodox. And if they are orthodox in their beliefs and practices, they are part true catholic Christianity of ages past and places present. Being orthodox and catholic means that we’re united on the essential truths that Christians have believed from the beginning. Individual churches may be “separated” by language, culture, geography, distinct traditions, and organizational preferences. But all churches that center on the ancient and enduring orthodox beliefs that have always been the warp and woof of the Christian faith are truly and properly catholic. Whether Lutheran, Presbyterian, Baptist, Methodist, Episcopalian, Independent Bible, or something else, Evangelical churches share this common Mark of Orthodoxy with each other.

But here comes the warning. Sometimes our own preference-driven distinctives can be so emphasized that we lose sight of the foundational Mark of Orthodoxy. We can easily fall into the error of thinking everything we believe is fundamental, essential, and of utmost importance. And then the truly orthodox doctrines are merely assumed . . . then neglected . . . then forgotten . . . and eventually lost. In response to this preference-driven mentality, we need to reassert the Evangelical Mark of Orthodoxy. It’s not enough to bury the essential truths in a lengthy doctrinal statement at the same level as the origin of angels and the order of the end-times. More than anything else in our postmodern, post-Christian culture, Evangelical churches must clearly, unambiguously, and intentionally identify themselves with the biblical and theological core of the ancient Christian faith.

An official statement of essential truths that focuses attention on the Mark of Orthodoxy would be a good place to start. And, like the apostolic and ancient church, actually reaffirming these orthodox essentials for membership, baptism, discipleship, and discipline would be a proper function of these truths. Also, keeping our own personal theological distinctives out of that ancient and unchanging center would go a long way to promote humility and unity. Only when we restore the essential Mark of Orthodoxy to its proper place of centrality—not merely in our doctrinal statements, but also in our teaching—can we move beyond the problem of the preference-driven church.

Introductory Reading List for Second Century Christianity

2009-07-13T13:55:00.000-07:00

In response to numerous requests for some suggestions on how to begin reading the primary sources for second century Christianity, I put together the following primary source reading list. I placed these writings in general chronological order, according to my conservative date ranges (in parentheses) and the “average” date for ordering purposes in brackets. In their corresponding footnotes I include my preferred English translation as well as the preferred original language edition—usually Greek, but sometimes Latin or other languages. Most of these texts are also available online through http://www.ccel.org/. I have hyperlinked the text to various easily-accessible public domain online resources when possible. You may also purchase more recent published translations, which I included with hyperlinks to amazon.com listings when possible.

Transition from First to Second Century:

1. The Didache (50–100 [75])— English and Greek: Michael W. Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations, 3d ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2008). The standard critical text for all Apostolic Fathers is Franz Xaver Funk, et al., eds, Die Apostolischen Väter: Griechisch-Deutsche Parallelausgabe (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992).

2. 1 Clement (95–97 [96])—English and Greek: Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers.

3. Shepherd of Hermas, Visions and Mandates (90–100 [95])—English and Greek: Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers.

4. Epistle of Barnabas (75–135 [105])— English and Greek: Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers.

B. Early Second Century:

5. Ignatius of Antioch, Ephesians, Magnesians, Trallians, Romans, Philadelphians, Smyrnaeans, Polycarp (110–117 [113])— English and Greek: Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers.

6. Polycarp, Philippians (110–117 [113])— English and Greek: Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers.

7. Shepherd of Hermas, Parables (100–150 [125])— English and Greek: Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers.

8. Gospel of Peter (125)— English and Greek: Thomas J. Kraus and Tobias Nicklas, eds., Neutestamentliche Apokryphen, vol. 1, Das Petrusevangelium und die Petrusapokalypse: Die griechischen Fragmente mit deutscher und englisher Übersetzung, Die Griechischen Christlichen Shriftsteller der ersten Jahrhunderte, vol. 11 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004), 1-77.

9. 2 Clement (100–150 [125])— English and Greek: Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers.

10. Aristides, Apology (125)— English: J. Rendel Harris, ed., The Apology of Aristides on Behalf of the Christians, ed. J. Armitage Robinson, 2d ed., Texts and Studies, vol. 1/1 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1893). Greek and Syriac: Bernard Pouderon and others, Aristide: Apologie, Sources Chrétiennes (Paris: Cerf, 2003).

11. Odes of Solomon (100–150 [125])— English and Syriac: James H. Charlesworth, The Odes of Solomon: The Syriac Texts, corrected reprint ed., Texts and Translations, vol. 13 (Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1978).

12. Fragments of Papias (125–155 [140])—English and Greek: Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers.

13. Epistula Apostolorum (150)— English: M. R. James, ed., The Apocryphal New Testament (Oxford: Clarendon, 1924).

C. Late Second Century:

14. Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho, 1 Apology, 2 Apology (150–160 [155])— English: Thomas B. Falls, Michael Slusser, and Thomas P. Halton, eds., St. Justin Martyr: Dialogue with Trypho, Selections from the Fathers of the Church (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 2003); Leslie W. Barnard, ed., St. Justin Martyr: The First and Second Apologies, Ancient Christian Writers, vol. 56 (New York: Paulist, 1997). Greek: Miroslav Marcovich, ed., Apologiae pro Christianis, Dialogus cum Tryphone, ed. H. Christian Brennecke and E. Mühlenberg, Patristische Texte und Studien, vols. 38 and 47 in one vol. (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2005).

15. Martyrdom of Polycarp (155–165 [160])— English and Greek: Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers.

16. Melito of Sardis, On Pascha (160–170 [165]) [no online resource available]— English and Greek: Stuart George Hall, Melito of Sardis: On Pascha and Fragments, ed. Henry Chadwick, Oxford Early Christian Texts (Oxford: Clarendon, 1979); English: Alistair Stewart-Sykes, On Pascha: With the Fragments of Melito and other Material Related to the Quartodecimans, Popular Patristics (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 2001).

17. Tatian, Address to the Greeks (165–172 [168])— English: Molly Whittaker, Tatian: Oratio ad Graecos and Fragments, ed. Henry Chadwick, Oxford Early Christian Texts (Oxford: Clarendon, 1982). Greek: Miroslav Marcovich, ed., Tatiani Oratio ad Graecos, ed. H. Christian Brennecke and E. Mühlenberg, Patristische Texte und Studien, vol. 43 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1995).

18. Epistle to Diognetus (150–200 [175])— English and Greek: Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers.

19. Theophilus of Antioch, To Autolycus (170–185 [177])—English: Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe, eds., Fathers of the Second Century: Hermas, Tatian, Athenagoras, Theophilus, and Clement of Alexandria, 1926 American ed., The Ante-nicene Fathers, vol. 2 (New York: Scribner's, 1926). Greek: Miroslav Marcovich, ed., Theophili Antiocheni Ad Autolycum, ed. H. Christian Brennecke and E. Mühlenberg, Patristische Texte und Studien, vol. 44 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1995).

20. Athenagoras, Embassy for the Christians, Resurrection of the Dead (177–180 [178])— English: Joseph Hugh Crehan, ed. Athenagoras, Embassy for the Christians, the Resurrection of the Dead, Ancient Christian Writers, ed. Johannes Quasten and Joseph C. Plumpe (Westminster, MD: Newman, 1956). Greek: Miroslav Marcovich, ed., Athenagoras: Legatio Pro Christianis, ed. Miroslav Marcovich, Patristische Texte und Studien, vol. 31 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1990).

21. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1–5, Demonstration of the Apostolic Preaching (180–190 [185])— English: Iain M. MacKenzie, Irenaeus's Demonstration of the Apostolic Preaching: A Theological Commentary and Translation, trans. J. Armitage Robinson (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2002); Dominic J. Unger and John J. Dillon, eds., St. Irenaeus of Lyons, Adversus haeresis 1/1, Ancient Christian Writers 53 (New York: Newman, 1992); Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson, eds., The Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1: The Apostolic Fathers, Justin Martyr, Irenaeus (Edinburgh: Christian Literature Publishing Company, 1885; reprint, New York: Scribner's, 1899). Original languages: Adelin Rousseau, ed., Irénée de Lyon, Démonstration de la prédication apostoloque, Sources chrétiennes 46 (Paris: Cerf, 1995); Adelin Rousseau and L. Doutreleau, eds., Irénée de Lyon: Contre les hérésies, Livre 1, vol. 2: Texte et traduction, Sources chrétiennes 264 (Paris: Cerf, 1979); Adelin Rousseau and L. Doutreleau, eds., Irénée de Lyon: Contre les hérésies, Livre 2, vol. 2: Texte et traduction, Sources chrétiennes 294 (Paris: Cerf, 1982); Adelin Rousseau and L. Doutreleau, eds., Irénée de Lyon: Contre les hérésies, Livre 3, vol. 2: Texte et traduction, Sources chrétiennes 211 (Paris: Cerf, 1974); Adelin Rousseau et al., eds., Irénée de Lyon: Contre les hérésies, Livre 4, vol. 2: Texte et traduction, Sources chrétiennes 100 (Paris: Cerf, 1965); Adelin Rousseau, C. Mercier, and L. Doutreleau, eds., Irénée de Lyon: Contre les hérésies, Livre 5, vol. 2: Texte et traduction, Sources chrétiennes 153 (Paris: Cerf, 1969).

Peanut Butter Christianity

2009-07-01T08:35:00.000-07:00

One day my wife sent me to the store to buy peanut butter—specifically, natural peanut butter. In other words, no fake stuff. This seemed simple enough . . . until I arrived in the peanut butter wing of the grocery store. The options overwhelmed me—creamy, chunky, extra chucky, honey-flavored, jelly-filled, low fat, organic, and countless sizes, shapes, brands, and prices! George Washington Carver himself would have shaken his head in despair. I’m sure that managing that isle alone must be a full time job.

So there I stood, paralyzed with indecision, wanting nothing more than to just grab the cheapest jar of peanut butter and dash for the checkout. Instead, showing due diligence, I searched for “natural peanut butter” amidst the flashy brand names that virtually called out from the shelf like brochure-pushers on the Vegas Strip: “Pick me! Pick me! Don’t you remember all those commercials you saw as a kid? All those smiling faces? Those cool special effects showing golden roasted peanuts magically spread into smooth, creamy Jif [or Peter Pan . . . or Skippy]?”

Lured by the flashy labels, my eyes landed on “Skippy” paired with the keyword “Natural”! How convenient!

I snatched it off the shelf.

I felt rather victorious until I got home and took a closer look at the back label. I then discovered that “natural” peanut butter isn’t always a literal designation. Skippy’s “natural” peanut butter does include roasted peanuts, of course. But it also contains sugar, palm oil, and salt. That’s natural? Really? All those things naturally grow on a peanut plant? I guess from one perspective these ingredients are natural as opposed to, say, “supernatural.” And I couldn’t find any unpronouncable names like monosodiumtriglyceraticidipropylol! Furthermore, to be fair to Skippy, if we were to compare Skippy “Natural” to, say, that peanut butter-ish substance in a Reese’s Peanut Butter cup or a Butterfinger candy bar, Skippy looks like pure gold.

But is junk food peanut butter really the standard? When I contrast Skippy “Natural” with something like Krema Natural, I’m a little less forgiving. The ingredients list for Krema simply says, “Peanuts.” No salt, no oil, no emulsifier, no sweetener, no chemicals added to preserve freshness or enhance flavor. Just plain peanuts. Call me naïve, but to me that’s natural whether we like it or not. Shouldn’t peanut butter made of puréed peanuts serve as the standard for what constitutes “natural” peanut butter?

As I obsessed over the out-of-control peanut butter situation for the next several weeks, something struck me. This failure of most peanut butters to actually live up to the “natural” standard reminds me of the out-of-control state of too much Evangelical Christianity. If I were to liken authentic, classic Christian orthodox beliefs and practices to the truly “natural” form of undiluted, unmixed, real peanut butter, then the multiple forms of Christianity that diverge farther and farther from this standard become, well, less and less “natural.”

As Evangelicals, many of us have over the decades become increasingly accustomed to a particular form of Christianity, which, while it is still essentially Christian, has been so “enriched” by non-Christian ingredients meant to “enhance” the faith—or to make the faith more convenient or palatable or marketable—that the essential Christianity has become difficult to discern. And those who have become accustomed to this diluted form of Christianity have all but forgotten what the pure faith actually tastes like. In fact, many who are then exposed to a less adulterated faith—a form without all the unnecessary additives—find themselves disgusted by the original pure flavor, spitting it out and rejecting it as something foreign and inferior. Or at least unpleasant to the palate.

The great irony is that this purer form of Christianity is the authentic faith once for all delivered to the saints! The Gospel purely preached, the sacraments rightly administered, discipline properly maintained—nothing really fancy about these things. In fact, they are so simple to identify and maintain that churches focusing on these fundamentals and freeing themselves from the frills appear to most big-production glitz and galmmor Evangelicals like washed-out has-beens or incompetent wannabes.

To return to my peanut butter analogy, all those peanut butter products do contain peanuts, and so they can genuinely be called “peanut butter.” Similarly, to varying degrees the marks of authentic Christianity are found in most of the products that fill the shelves of the Evangelical church market. And to the degree that they retain those essential marks they are, in fact, Christian. Yet many forms of Evangelical Christianity have been so coated with sweetness . . . so mixed with artificial ingredients . . . or so drenched in candy coating that they are in danger of becoming cheap imitations that serve merely to distract from—not point to—the essential ingredients of the Christian faith. And just like additive-rich peanut butters that appeal to flavor rather than nutrition, far too many Evangelicals shop for me-centered feel-good church experiences rather than Christ-centered worship, discipleship, and authentic community. In fact, like sour faced kids who reject all-natural peanut butter, many Evangelicals turn their noses up at authentic Christianity and would rather keep playing at church than adjust their tastes to the real thing.

I believe we’ve reached a point in the Evangelical church market where it’s no longer enough to just read the front label. Now we have to focus in on the fine print and see what place is given to the true marks of classic Christianity.

Beyond the Preference-Driven Church: Revisiting the Marks and Works of the Church, Part 1

2009-06-03T09:40:00.000-07:00

We’re seeped in a culture where preference rules. As a result, many American Evangelicals treat church like malleable clay to be molded and shaped into whatever form they think it should be. Our expectations for what a church is and what a church does too often reflect our personal preferences. We may prefer contemporary music or traditional hymns . . . dynamic youth activities or deep discipleship . . . personable pastors or powerful preachers . . . state-of-the-art facilities or stunning sanctuaries. But do these preference-driven churches really reflect the biblical marks and works of a church?

The solution to a preference-driven church mentality isn’t to compose a new “me-centered” wish list, but to identify and adopt God’s essential marks and works for an authentic and healthy church. When we do this we’ll be equipped to focus on our church’s central strengths and address inevitable weaknesses, establishing reliable criteria for recovering a lost identity. But first we need to remind ourselves of the fundamental marks and works of the church. And to do this, we need to have a bit of historical perspective.

During the sixteenth century Reformation, Protestant leaders like Luther and Calvin sought to define what it meant for a congregation to be counted as an authentic Christian Church. They knew they couldn’t define themselves by medieval Roman Catholic standards under the Pope with his seven saving sacraments and rigid rituals. But amidst a growing diversity of Protestant practices, what could they identify as the essential marks of a true church? The Lutheran Augsburg Confession put it this way: “The Church is the congregation of saints, in which the Gospel is rightly taught and the Sacraments rightly administered” (Article 7). Later the Westminster Confession expressed a united Protestant perspective on what it meant to be truly “catholic” in the Protestant (not Roman Catholic) sense: “This catholic Church hath been sometimes more, sometimes less visible. And particular churches, which are members thereof, are more or less pure, according as the doctrine of the gospel is taught and embraced, ordinances administered, and public worship performed more or less purely in them” (Article 15.4).

Of course, we aren’t bound by the original Protestant confessions, but as the Evangelical heirs of that great Reformation tradition, we should be just as careful as they were about answering the question, “What makes a congregation of believers a true and faithful church of Jesus Christ?” I find it helpful to think in terms of essential “Marks” and “Works” of a true church, incorporating biblical and historical emphases that have stood the test of time. In the remainder of this article, I want to briefly summarize these Marks and Works illustrated in the diagram. In later articles I will further develop each of these with concrete, practical suggestions on how they can be reinforced today. Though my terms are different, these Marks and Works fit the classic early church and Reformation “marks of the church.”

The pillar of essential Marks includes Orthodoxy, Order, and Ordinances. Orthodox believers are those who hold to the essential truths of the Christian faith—those fundamentals of the faith that have been believed everywhere, always, and by all. It corresponds with the Protestant emphasis on the “Word of God purely preached and heard” (1 Tim 3:14–15; 2 Tim 1:13–14; 3:13–4:5). Order emphasizes the necessity of trained, trusted, and tested pastors, teachers, and shepherds of the church, to whom the orthodox faith has been entrusted to pass on to the next generation (Eph 4:11–12; 2 Tim 2:2; 1 Tim 3:1–13; Titus 1:5–9; Heb 13:17; 1 Pet 5:1–3). And the term Ordinances refers to the sacraments of the church, including baptism and the Lord’s Supper as closely associated with discipline and purity of the church’s members (Matt 28:18; 1 Cor 11:23–26; 1 Pet 3:21–22).

The pillar of essential Works includes Evangelism, Edification, and Exultation. Evangelism is primarily world-focused, emphasizing local and global missions. It includes invitation and initiation into the church through the gospel of salvation by grace through faith in the person and work of Christ (Matt 28:18; Luke 24:46–49; John 20:30–31; Acts 1:8; Eph 2:8–9). Edification describes the church’s role of building up believers in love and good works through the participation of its various members in their Spirit-gifted ministries, resulting in unity and maturity (Matt 28:19–20; Rom 12:4–8; 1 Cor 3:10–17; Eph 2:19–22; 4:11–13; Heb 5:12–14; 10:23–25). Finally, Exultation refers to the purpose, goal, and focus of the church—to glorify God the Father, through the Son, and by the power of the Spirit. The church must exult God through corporate worship and prayer as well as by a God-glorifying presence in the world (Matt 5:16; 25:34–40; Rom 11:33–12:2; Gal 1:3–5; 1 Pet 4:8–11).

If a local church is not consciously employed in the business of continually revisiting and strengthening the pillars of essential Marks and Works of the church, eventually these will erode, crack, and crumble. And it doesn’t take a structural engineer to predict what will happen to the structure when its foundational piers collapse! Personal preference and me-centered pragmatism can not determine what the church should be or what it should be doing. Only a careful reflection on the defining Marks and Works of a healthy church can keep us focused on what God wants us to be and do in the twenty-first century.

(To be continued…)

Answers for the World's Tough Questions Passport

2009-05-22T11:43:00.000-07:00

How would you answer the following questions?

Is Jesus the only way to heaven?
Why does a loving and powerful God allow evil?
Is the Bible really God’s Word?
Is hell a real place?

Do you have answers? Would you be able to communicate your beliefs clearly, creatively, and with grace?

This third volume of Insight for Living's popular "passport" series, which I co-authored with the IFL Creative Ministries team, is "a quick-reference guide for some of the nagging questions and criticisms concerning Christianity." Including arguments from both reason and biblical revelation, this resource introduces the common objections or hang-ups you'll face when sharing your faith with others in our postmodern world. Then we give some simple tips on how to address these questions as well as additional resoucres to dig deeper.

You can order copies of the Answers Passport here.

Will God Annihilate the World? Part IV

2009-05-19T20:26:00.000-07:00

(...Continued from Part III)

A Plea for Redemption, not Annihilation

Besides the exegetical concerns discussed in this essay, several other theological and historical matters should be brought to our attention.

I would like to especially appeal to my fellow premillennialists (whether dispensational or not), asking them to reconsider their belief in a re-created heavens and earth. Premillennialists of all people should stand against the “disposable world” perspective precisely because of their premillennialism. They ought to believe that Christ’s reign on this present world for a thousand years will remove the curse, spread the glory of God throughout the planet, and “Re-Edenify” the world. It seems strange that premillennialists, then, would teach that this same renewed world will be sent to God’s trash heap by annihilation and completely replaced by “Earth 2.0.” Those who view the release of Satan from the Abyss and his subsequent rebellion do not see God’s judgment on the Dragon and his armies in Revelation 20:7–10 as another period of tribulation like the seven-year conflagration that had ushered in the millennium. Rather, the rebellion of Satan and the final resurrection should be viewed as a “comma” within the eternal reign of Christ at the end of its first thousand years . . . not as an exclamation mark that ends Christ’s reign and the world. Why would God spend one thousand years removing the curse, perfecting creation, and re-populating the earth, only to destroy all matter and start over? This does not fit God’s ultimate plan of redemption.

And redemption is the key word. God’s plan is not one of surrendering to the destructive work of Satan and fallen humanity. Rather, His plan is to reverse the degeneration of creation through resurrection and regeneration. As our human bodies have been redeemed and will be resurrected and glorified, so the physical world will be redeemed, restored, and glorified at the return and reign of Christ (Romans 8:18–25). God’s redemptive purpose would be thwarted if He were to simply annihilate this creation and re-create it ex nihilo. It would mean that Satan succeeded at destroying God’s creation after all, and that God was either unable or unwilling to redeem creation through Christ. At stake is the ultimate cosmic defense of the goodness and greatness of God! At stake is the only Christian theodicy—that through Christ’s redemptive work this wicked, fallen universe will be reclaimed, restored, and glorified in a way that leaves no doubt that God is, in fact, all-powerful and all-good in spite of the millennia of distortions and degenerations experienced because of the Fall.

This view is also consistent with a proper incarnational Christology and all that this profound truth implies. The permanent character of the incarnation of Christ should itself be viewed as a promise that true deity is now inextricably connected to the fate of the physical creation. Christ is fully God—uncreated Creator. He is also fully human—created creature. The fate of both divinity and humanity, eternity and temporality, heaven and earth, are wrapped up in the destiny of this One divine-human Person. Colossians 1:19–20 says, “For it was the Father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile all things to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross; through Him, I say, whether things on earth or things in heaven.” All things in heaven and earth are summed up in Christ by virtue of the incarnational union of the divine and human natures. Therefore, the purpose of any judgment on this physical world is purification, restoration, and renewal, not destruction, disposal, or annihilation. Christ’s is a cosmic ministry of reconciliation, not divorce. His is a mission of summing up, not subtracting from.

Finally, it must be recognized that the view that God will create a new universe out of nothing after disposing of this universe by annihilation is not the view of the earliest Christians close to the apostles, but the view of the Gnostics who saw no need for a future physical universe. Irenaeus of Lyons (c. A.D. 180), who grew up in the church of Polycarp of Smyrna, a disciple of the apostle John, explicitly rejected the idea that this physical universe was to be annihilated. He wrote:

For since there are real men, so must there also be a real establishment, that they vanish not away among non-existent things, but progress among those which have an actual existence. For neither is the substance nor the essence of the creation annihilated (for faithful and true is He who has established it), but “the fashion of the world passes away;” [1 Cor 7:41] that is, those things among which transgression has occurred, since man has grown old in them. And therefore this [present] fashion has been formed temporary, God foreknowing all things; and I have also shown, as far as was possible, the cause of the creation of this world of temporal things. But when this present fashion of things passes away, and man has been renewed, and flourishes in an incorruptible state, so as to preclude the possibility of becoming old, then there shall be the new heaven and the new earth, in which the new man shall remain continually, always holding fresh converse with God. (Irenaeus, Against Heresies 5.36.1)

Even Irenaeus’s amillennial counterpart, Origen of Alexandria, writing by about A.D. 220, explicitly rejected the idea of a complete annihilation of the universe. After quoting 1 Corinthians 7:31 and Psalm 102:26, he wrote:

For if the heavens are to be changed, assuredly that which is changed does not perish, and if the fashion of the world passes away, it is by no means an annihilation or destruction of their material substance that is shown to take place, but a kind of change of quality and transformation of appearance. Isaiah also, in declaring prophetically that there will be a new heaven and a new earth, undoubtedly suggests a similar view. For this renewal of heaven and earth, and this transmutation of the form of the present world, and this changing of the heavens will undoubtedly be prepared for those who are walking along that way which we have pointed out above, and are tending to that goal of happiness to which, it is said, even enemies themselves are to be subjected, and in which God is said to be “all and in all.” And if any one imagine that at the end material, i.e., bodily, nature will be entirely destroyed, he cannot in any respect meet my view, how beings so numerous and powerful are able to live and to exist without bodies, since it is an attribute of the divine nature alone—i.e., of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—to exist without any material substance, and without partaking in any degree of a bodily adjunct. (Origen,
First Principles 1.6.4)

Yes, this present heaven and earth will undergo an intense judgment characterized by fire. The very foundations of the world will be shaken. The principalities and powers of spiritual and political wickedness will be forever destroyed. But the world itself will undergo a restoration, transformation, and glorification. It will not be absolute annihilation, but an extreme make-over befitting a God whose goal is to reign—not resign—as King of all creation.

Will God Annihilate the World? Part III

2009-05-19T20:19:00.000-07:00

(...Continued from Part II)

Peter’s Apocalyptic Problem

But doesn’t 2 Peter say that the universe—nay, even the elements—will melt with intense heat prior to the creation of a new heavens and new earth? Isn’t this a clear support for an annihilation of the present creation in preparation for a completely new creation? To answer this we need to examine Peter’s entire argument more closely. Let me first set up the general context of the letter.

Throughout Peter’s second epistle he makes reference to the coming judgment, which we call the tribulation—the judgment that culminates in the second coming of Christ on earth to establish His kingdom. In chapter 2 Peter uses past judgments as types of the coming judgment. He refers to the days of the flood, during which the “world of the ungodly” was destroyed (2:5). Sodom and Gomorrah are also examples. These cities were condemned to “destruction by reducing them to ashes” and they are thus an example of the coming tribulation judgment (2:6). Yet in the midst of these statements Peter reminds his readers that God knows how to rescue the godly from “tribulation” (2:9), referring to Lot as an example (2:7–8).

Peter then describes the character of the ungodly of this world who await judgment. He notes that they will “in the destruction of those [animal] creatures also be destroyed” (2:12). Peter also refers to the scoffers who make fun of those who are expecting the Lord’s return: “In the last days mockers will come with their mocking, . . . and saying, ‘Where is the promise of His coming?’” (3:3–4). Peter has in mind here the condition of skepticism and cynicism characterizing the end of the age.

In response to this skepticism about the Lord’s return, Peter again draws on the analogy of the flood in the ancient world—a world that was utterly destroyed. He writes: “It escapes their notice that by the word of God the heavens existed long ago and the earth was formed out of water and by water, through which the world at that time was destroyed, being flooded with water” (3:5–6). So, just as the initial order of the world of humanity, animals, and even the earth itself was “destroyed,” leaving only a remnant to return and repopulate the earth, the future coming judgment will similarly destroy our present world. But in Peter’s mind the coming judgment at Christ’s return would be more severe, for instead of judgment by water, it will be judgment by fire.

Peter writes, “But by His word the present heavens and earth are being reserved for fire, kept for the day of judgment and destruction of ungodly men” (3:7). Given the context of this passage in Peter’s letter, we must connect this coming judgment with the judgment of the world that accompanies the return of Christ, that is, the tribulation judgment. This is the anticipated “day of the Lord,” during which the current world system will be destroyed, just as the pre-flood world ceased to exist, having been replaced by the new order after the flood. Peter refers to this coming judgment as “the day of the Lord” that would come “like a thief” (3:10). There is no basis for understanding this as anything other than the anticipated tribulation period, to which Jesus and Paul had already referred in similar terms (Matthew 24:42–43; 1 Thessalonians 5:2; Revelation 3:3; 16:15). This coming judgment is what Peter describes with vivid terms of destruction:

But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, in which the heavens will pass away with a roar and the elements will be destroyed with intense heat, and the earth and its works will be burned up. Since all these things are to be destroyed in this way, what sort of people ought you to be in holy conduct and godliness, looking for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be destroyed by burning, and the elements will melt with intense heat! (2 Peter 3:10–12)

Who or what are the “elements” that will be destroyed? The Greek word stoicheion (“elements”) must not be read anachronistically as a reference to the atomic “elements” of modern science. According to Gingrich (Shorter Lexicon of the Greek New Testament), this term may refer to angelic beings in Galatians 4:3, 9 and Colossians 2:8, 20. In this sense, it may be a reference to the destruction of Satan and his wicked angelic hosts who currently reign over the heavens, but who will be destroyed and cast into the Lake of Fire—or, in the case of Satan, consigned to the Abyss—at the coming of Christ. This would fit the similar language of the removal of heavenly and earthly powers in Isaiah 24:21–22, a passage we’ve already examined above. It is also possible that the text refers to the destruction of earth, water, and air regarded as “elements” in the ancient world, which destruction we see described in great detail in the book of Revelation (Revelation 8:1–9:21; 16:1–21). This drastic change—not annihilation—of elements in judgment is also seen in Wisdom of Solomon 19:18–20—“For the elements (stoicheia) were changed in themselves by a kind of harmony, like as in a psaltery notes change the name of the tune, and yet are always sounds…. For earthly things were turned into watery, and the things, that before swam in the water, now went upon the ground. The fire had power in the water, forgetting its own virtue: and the water forgot its own quenching nature.” In any case, it would be very misleading to conclude that Peter had in mind the absolute annihilation of atoms or subatomic particles when he used the word stoicheion in 2 Peter 3:12.

So, Peter anticipates this judgment of fire as coming upon the present world system at the return of Christ, that is, in the final days of the tribulation. In a premillennial view of the end times, this tribulation period will destroy the present system, including all evil and sin. It will also include the destruction of demons and a razing of the world’s geography. The world that comes when Christ returns to reign on the new post-tribulation millennial order, then, Peter describes thusly: “But according to His promise we are looking for new heavens and a new earth,” qualifying this statement with regard to its righteous quality, not its creation ex nihilo: “in which righteousness dwells” (3:13).

Peter was no doubt familiar with the Old Testament background of his phrase “new heavens and new earth.” Peter’s reference to the “new heavens and new earth” must be understood in his own context of the anticipated coming of Christ in judgment on the present world during the tribulation and in light of the “new heavens and new earth” promises in Isaiah 65 and 66—both of which refer to the restoration of the world after the tribulation and during the reign of the Messiah and His saints over the redeemed earth.

Therefore, we must understand the destruction language of 2 Peter 3:10–13 as a vivid picture of judgment referring to the tribulation and coming of Christ preceding the millennial reign. It is not a reference to a post-millennial, pre-eternal annihilation or “un-creation” of the universe and its physical elements. Nor is the “new heavens and new earth” in Peter a reference to a re-creation ex nihilo of a world that has no relationship to the present physical world. Just as the pre-flood earth was renewed after the judgment of water, the current world will be renewed after a judgment of fire. However, Peter’s language implies that the coming judgment at the return of Christ will be just as severe as the world-altering flood of Noah.

Return to Revelation

It is in light of Isaiah 65–66 and 2 Peter 3 that we must understand John’s vision of the new heavens and new earth. To read this as annihilation and re-creation out of nothing would be to read into it meanings for “pass away” and “new heavens and new earth” that are foreign to the sum of biblical teaching. In fact, Revelation 21:3–5 actually interprets its own language precisely in keeping with the idea of qualitative renewal and redemption similar to Isaiah and 2 Peter. Note how the voice from heaven interprets the vision for John:

And I heard a loud voice from the throne, saying, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is among men, and He will dwell among them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be among them, and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away.” And He who sits on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” And He said, “Write, for these words are faithful and true.”

Revelation 21:4 interprets the symbols of the vision that heaven and earth “passed away”—“the first things have passed away.” What things are these? Not elements, not atoms, not molecules—but the evil order of things: the death, wickedness, grief, suffering, pain, degeneration, and deterioration that had long held all of these physical and spiritual elements in bondage. Look at the clear statement: “There will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away” (Revelation 21:4).

In light of this, I believe the greatest misunderstanding concerning the “new heavens and new earth” described in Revelation 21 has been to take the symbolic vision in Revelation 21:1–2 too literally rather than learning the meaning of the vision from the prophetic interpretation in 21:3–5 and the use of the same phrase in the Old and New Testaments. When we understand “new creation” language in light of the Bible’s entire teaching on this matter, we should conclude that this creation is bound for regeneration and redemption, not annihilation and re-creation ex nihilo.

(Concluded in Part IV...)

Will God Annihilate the World? Part II

2009-05-19T20:12:00.000-07:00

(...Continued from Part I)

Qualitative Redemption, not Quantitative Replacement

The fact is that the passages that seem to suggest an absolute annihilation of the heavens and earth followed by a recreation out of nothing do not actually assert this. The original terms translated “pass away” do not mean “be annihilated.” The terms are neutral, referring simply to “going away,” or “departing.” Paul uses one of these terms, parerchomai, to refer to the old things of the believer’s life that have “passed away”: “Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away (parerchomai); behold, new things have come” (2 Corinthians 5:17). This implies an extreme makeover of a person’s life and character, not an annihilation of the old and replacement by the new. First Peter 4:3 uses the same Greek term in a similar sense: “For the time already past (parerchomai) is sufficient for you to have carried out the desire of the Gentiles.” The time of former sin has “passed away.” So, this general term does not mean “be annihilated.” It simply means to go away. The question, though, is what “goes away”—the actual substance itself, its behavior, its form, its function, its existence? The mere use of the term “pass away” does not itself imply annihilation. It could refer to a radical transformation of the quality of something rather than to its absolute destruction.

Read in this light, two of the passages that seemed to suggest annihilation actually fit the perspective of a qualitative redemption. Remember the imagery in Isaiah 24:20? “The earth reels to and fro like a drunkard and it totters like a shack, for its transgression is heavy upon it, and it will fall, never to rise again.” Isaiah goes on with an interpretation of the imagery of the stumbling drunkard and teetering shack: “So it will happen in that day, that the Lord will punish the host of heaven on high, and the kings of the earth on earth. They will be gathered together like prisoners in the dungeon, and will be confined in prison; and after many days they will be punished” (Isaiah 24:21–22). So, the utter collapse of the earth refers not to the annihilation of the physical universe itself, but to the judgment of the sinful condition of that physical universe. This will include punishing the spiritual wickedness in the heavens as well as the human wickedness on the earth. God’s anger is directed toward spirits of wickedness and sinful people, not rocks, molecules, atoms, oceans, and air.

Similarly, the passage in Psalm 102:25–26 also suggests an extreme transformation rather than absolute annihilation. The Psalmist wrote, “Of old You founded the earth, and the heavens are the work of Your hands. Even they will perish, but You endure; and all of them will wear out like a garment.” He then adds, “Like clothing You will change them and they will be changed” (102:26). The image implies an external change, like a person whose clothes become old and tattered. While the outer form is utterly changed, the inner person remains, though completely transformed and renewed.

But more directly related to our question regarding the new heavens and new earth, Peter uses the word apollumi (“to destroy”) when describing the judgment of the world before the flood (2 Peter 3:6). In that case he refers to wiping the earth clean, destroying life and land, but not actually annihilating the universe and recreating everything from nothing. In the case of the flood, Peter describes the destruction of the sinful quality of the world system—both in the earthly and heavenly realms. He was not referring to a literal de-creation and re-creation, but an extreme makeover of the physical universe and especially its human and heavenly institutions.

How “New” Are the New Heavens and Earth?

Revelation 21:1 says, “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth passed away, and there is no longer any sea.” John says he had seen “the first earth pass away,” which was part of the vision of the heaven and earth fleeing from the presence of God in Revelation 20:11. Remembering that John had been seeing all sorts of symbolic visions throughout the book, we must allow the text itself to interpret what John is seeing here. The vision could refer to a complete annihilation and re-creation. But it could just as reasonably picture an “extreme makeover” of the present creation—a “new and improved” version that bears little resemblance to the past order of things. Thankfully, the Bible itself helps us properly interpret the vision of the “new heavens and new earth.”

The first place in the Bible where we find a description of the “new heavens and new earth” is Isaiah 65:17–25. We must read the entire passage to see exactly how this “new heavens and new earth” is described.

“For behold, I create new heavens and a new earth; and the former things will not be remembered or come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I create; for behold, I create Jerusalem for rejoicing and her people for gladness. I will also rejoice in Jerusalem and be glad in My people; and there will no longer be heard in her the voice of weeping and the sound of crying. No longer will there be in it an infant who lives but a few days, or an old man who does not live out his days; for the youth will die at the age of one hundred and the one who does not reach the age of one hundred will be thought accursed. They will build houses and inhabit them; they will also plant vineyards and eat their fruit. They will not build and another inhabit, they will not plant and another eat; for as the lifetime of a tree, so will be the days of My people, and My chosen ones will wear out the work of their hands. They will not labor in vain, or bear children for calamity; for they are the offspring of those blessed by the Lord, and their descendants with them. It will also come to pass that before they call, I will answer; and while they are still speaking, I will hear. The wolf and the lamb will graze together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox; and dust will be the serpent’s food. They will do no evil or harm in all My holy mountain,” says the Lord.

One should recognize that the condition described as “new heavens and a new earth” in Isaiah 65:17–25 refers to the future millennial kingdom on this present earth following the tribulation judgments and return of Christ. This present world will endure numerous fiery judgments under the just wrath of God. All wickedness will be wiped clean, and then the world will be restored under the reign of Christ and His saints. During this thousand-year reign the curse of the Fall will be lifted, the earth will be repopulated by righteous survivors of the tribulation, and the inhabitants of the earth will experience a quality of life never seen in history. Satan and his demons will no longer be ruling over the heavens; that realm will be controlled by Christ and His saints. In short—peace, harmony, prosperity, and righteousness will reign supreme. This millennial condition of renewal and redemption—not a re-creation out of nothing—is what Isaiah 65 describes as the “new heavens and new earth.” Clearly, this is a qualitative newness.

Isaiah 66:15–22 also refers to the renewal of the current heavens and earth under the reign of Christ. Following a period of judgment, which we call the coming “tribulation” associated with the second coming of Christ, the earth will be renewed: “For behold, the Lord will come in fire and His chariots like the whirlwind, to render His anger with fury, and His rebuke with flames of fire. For the Lord will execute judgment by fire and by His sword on all flesh, and those slain by the Lord will be many.” This refers to the coming tribulation judgment. Nations will be converted and Israel will be re-gathered (Isaiah 66:17–21). And then God swears, “‘For just as the new heavens and the new earth which I make will endure before Me,’ declares the Lord, ‘So your offspring and your name will endure.’” All of these details refer not to the eternal state, but to the first thousand years of Christ’s eternal reign—the period often called the “millennium.” Thus, the “new heavens and new earth” in Isaiah’s prophecy refer not to a new creation out of nothing, but to a renewed creation under Christ after the present world system has been judged by the wrath of the tribulation.

In keeping with this same kind of “new creation” idea of redemption rather than re-creation, Paul refers to believers with “new creation” language in 2 Corinthians 5:17. Here believers have not ceased to exist only to be re-created ex nihilo. Rather, the salvation of a sinner is a regeneration, a renewal, a redemption—a buy-back of the old and a transformation into something qualitatively new.

(Continued in Part III...)

Will God Annihilate the World? Part I

2009-05-19T20:06:00.000-07:00

Introduction

When I was a relatively new believer I was taught that the present world will be annihilated. Not just the animals and vegetation, not just the land and the waters—but the subatomic particles themselves would one day be dissolved into nothingness . . . utterly destroyed . . . obliterated. In its place God would then create a completely new heavens and earth—ex nihilo, “out of nothing.” This new heavens and earth would not merely be qualitatively different (“improved”), but quantitatively different (“absolutely new”).

But is this true? Will God utterly annihilate this present universe . . . or will He renew it? Will the original creation of Genesis 1 be rejected as beyond repair . . . or redeemed from its fallen, cursed condition?

“Heaven and Earth Will Pass Away”

Both the Old and New Testaments clearly describe a time when heaven and earth will “pass away” or “perish.” Psalm 102:25–26 says, “Of old You founded the earth, and the heavens are the work of Your hands. Even they will perish, but You endure; and all of them will wear out like a garment.” This same Psalm is quoted in Hebrews 1:10–12. Similarly, Jesus famously said, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will not pass away” (Matthew 24:35; Mark 13:31; Luke 21:33). With vivid images, Isaiah 24:20 pictures the fall of the world: “The earth reels to and fro like a drunkard and it totters like a shack, for its transgression is heavy upon it, and it will fall, never to rise again.”

Perhaps the most definitive statements about the ultimate destruction of the universe are found in 2 Peter 3:10 and Revelation 20:11 and 21:1. Peter writes, “But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, in which the heavens will pass away with a roar and the elements will be destroyed with intense heat, and the earth and its works will be burned up.” And John records his vision of the new creation in startling terms: “Then I saw a great white throne and Him who sat upon it, from whose presence earth and heaven fled away, and no place was found for them” (Revelation 20:11). And then: “I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth passed away, and there is no longer any sea” (21:1).

Read quite literally, these Old and New Testament texts seem to carry a degree of finality—utter destruction of the present heavens and earth and a replacement with a completely new physical universe.

But there’s a problem, because Scripture also says . . .

“Heaven and Earth Will Not Pass Away”

In Psalm 148:3–6, all creation is called to praise God. We read: “Praise Him, sun and moon; praise Him, all stars of light! Praise Him, highest heavens, and the waters that are above the heavens! Let them praise the name of the Lord, for He commanded and they were created. He has also established them forever and ever; He has made a decree which will not pass away.” Clearly the sun, moon, stars, heavens, and waters have all been established “forever and ever.” In fact, God’s decree “will not pass away.”

In Psalm 89:36–37 the promise of the eternal covenant with David and His descendents is linked to the eternality of the heavens and earth: “His descendants shall endure forever and his throne as the sun before Me. It shall be established forever like the moon, and the witness in the sky is faithful.” We know that this Davidic covenant is fulfilled eternally through Jesus Christ, the final Davidic King. So, just as the Davidic King will endure forever, the sun and moon, likened to the Davidic promise, must also endure forever.

Similarly, God solidifies His promise of everlasting faithfulness to His covenant with Israel by appealing to the continuation of the heavens and earth: “Thus says the Lord, Who gives the sun for light by day and the fixed order of the moon and the stars for light by night, Who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar; the Lord of hosts is His name: ‘If this fixed order departs from before Me,’ declares the Lord, ‘then the offspring of Israel also will cease from being a nation before Me forever.’” If the heavens and earth were intended for absolute destruction in the future, then this promise of God to Israel could be broken!

These passages describe a creation that is not expected to pass away or be destroyed. In fact, the sun, moon, stars, and heavens could not cease to exist without disastrous implications for the faithfulness of God and the reliability of His promises.

So, which is it? Will heaven and earth pass away, as the Bible says? Or will heaven and earth be preserved forever, as the Bible says? Does the Bible contradict itself? Or is there a way to harmonize these two apparently contradictory truths?

(Continued in Part II...)

A Case for RetroChristianity

2009-05-07T22:58:00.000-07:00

Naming an idea can be risky. The newly-named “idea” takes on a life of its own and can then be accepted, rejected, modified, ignored, loved, or despised. Nevertheless, I’ve decided to finally name that cluster of ideas that has been gestating for some years now—about fifteen, to be precise. I actually think the child was born a few years ago, but he’s been awaiting an identity—something that will distinguish him from his look-alike siblings that came before him. So, the name I’ve given my course of thinking is RetroChristianity. I will explain exactly what this means and why I chose this particular name in due time. But to do this successfully, I first need to name and describe a few other concepts in contemporary Christian thinking. These terms include “Orthodoxy,” “Heterodoxy,” and “Heresy.” To these common labels I want to add two more: “Metrodoxy” and “Petridoxy.”

By “Orthodoxy” I signify the correct view on the central truths of the Christian faith and a proper practice of Christian works. As a rule of thumb, orthodoxy is that which has been believed and practiced everywhere, always, and by all. The “all” includes those who people who intend to be counted among orthodox Christians and who have generally been regarded as such by other orthodox Christians. Orthodoxy means holding the right opinion about crucial Christian truths and acts in keeping with what Christianity has always believed about these things. Some things that fit this general criteria are: 1) God created all things out of nothing; 2) God is Triune: one divine essence in three Persons—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; 3) The eternal Son of God became incarnate through the Virgin Mary and was born Jesus Christ, fully God and fully human, two distinct natures in one unique Person; 4) Jesus Christ died to pay for our sins, rose from the dead victorious, and ascended into heaven, waiting to return from heaven to earth to act as Judge and King; 5) The Holy Spirit moved the prophets and apostles to compose the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, the inspired, unerring norm for the Christian faith; 6) The Church is Christ’s body of redeemed, baptized saints who by faith partake of the life and communion with God through Jesus Christ in the new community of the Spirit. Some universal practices have included baptism as the rite of initiation, the Lord’s Supper (or communion, or eucharist) as the rite of continued fellowship, evangelism, missions, charity, worship, and Bible teaching. Many other things have been taught and practiced everywhere, always, and by all, but this sample list indicates the kind of central, crucial doctrines that mark one as “orthodox.”

Now this all sounds simpler than it actually is. Sometimes it requires a little bit of squinting in order to overlook minor blemishes on an otherwise hopeful history of orthodoxy. The reality is that without constant check-ups and regular cleaning, orthodoxy is subject to “truth decay.” This can happen to individuals, to churches, to vast communities, to entire generations. But don’t despair! One of the main functions of the Spirit of Truth is to guide the church into truth, to restore her to orthodoxy when she veers too far, and to breathe into her renewed vitality. The history of the church is filled with these revival movements that retrieve forgotten aspects of orthodoxy. So orthodoxy can never be taken for granted. It must be constantly re-received and re-taught. It is not passed down from one generation to another in the form of a creed or confession if that creed or confession is not faithfully and intentionally taught. Orthodoxy is not bestowed upon the next generation through the Bible if the Bible is not read and explained within the context of classic orthodoxy. There’s no such thing as orthodoxy by osmosis or trickle-down orthodoxy. It must be intentionally and clearly taught everywhere, at all times, and to all.

Moving on, I use the term “Heterodoxy” to mean, literally, “another opinion.” Heterodox teachings tend toward the margins of the received doctrines of the faith. And they sometimes teeter at the very edge. They still want to be part of the Christian tradition and still acknowledge the central Christian truths, but they also want to be unique, innovative, and clever in their theology and practice. They feel comfortable recasting traditional truths in nontraditional language. They sometimes want to rearrange, reinvent, reinvigorate, and reformulate the things that had been handed down to them. They like to surf the waves of the margins, buck the system, go against the grain—all within the community of orthodoxy. However, heterodoxy often results in an unintentional distancing from the normative center of Christian orthodoxy . . . and with a little push heterodox teachers run the risk of breaking free from orthodoxy’s gravitational pull and winding up in the bleak void of heresy. Heterodoxy is also often characterized by exaggerating a minor distinctive and trying to jam it into the center of orthodoxy. When a unique aspect of a person’s theology becomes the focal point, the true center of orthodoxy becomes marginalized and minimized. Thus, heterodoxy develops because of a failure to keep the primary orthodox truths front and center. Division, dissension, and destruction often ensue. Heterodoxy is cured by intentionally and clearly teaching orthodoxy everywhere, at all times, and to all.

I use the term “Heresy” to describe doctrine that challenges and destroys the central core of orthodoxy. As such, heresy alone is damnable doctrine. It often finds its origins as a radical heterodoxy, but not all heterodoxy ends up in denying basic fundamentals of the Christian faith. Heresy differs from heterodoxy in that the heretic knowingly (not ignorantly), willfully (not accidentally), and persistently (not momentarily) denies a key tenet of historic orthodox Christianity. He or she rejects certain truths that have been believed everywhere, always, and by all. For example, somebody who denies the full deity and humanity of Christ is a heretic. The belief that Jesus of Nazareth did not literally rise from the dead is heretical. And the view that the Holy Spirit is a created being and not a fully divine person is heresy. Heresy is defeated by intentionally and clearly teaching orthodoxy everywhere, at all times, and to all.

Orthodoxy. Heterodoxy. Heresy. I think these categories are clear. Now, floating among Orthodoxy and Heterodoxy I see two tendencies, especially in free church evangelicalism. I call these tendencies “Metrodoxy” and “Petridoxy.”

“Metrodoxy” is a term I coined to describe trendy, faddish, and “cool” doctrines and practices that tend to take over contemporary churches, especially “megachurches” and megachurch wannabes. If you want your church to have greater cultural “impact,” to draw media attention, and to place itself on the map of evangelical Christianity, you must accept and live by metrodox values. These include relationship, not religion . . . contemporary, not conventional . . . relevance, not ritual . . . innovative, not obsolete . . . fresh, not stale. Metrodoxy thrives in metropolitan areas, drawing from a pool of young, energetic men and women who have excess time and money. This group is often impressed by a clever lingo, advanced technology, and trendy buzz. Anything perceived as boring, belabored, or bogged down gets snuffed. But amidst the excitement, metrodox churches tend to be in a constant state of identity crisis, needing to reinvent or re-brand themselves every few years. After a few phoenix-like rebirths, these churches eventually find themselves adrift, unsure of what they’re supposed to be doing or why. Of course, we find all sorts of ready captains prepared to take over and steer the ship toward some new and trendy port . . . but these navigators are usually not going back to classic orthodox beliefs and practices as their guides to lead them on. The result of this constant identity crisis is often a failure to identify and pass on what has been believed and practiced everywhere, always, and by all. So, extreme metrodoxy can be treated by intentionally and clearly teaching orthodoxy everywhere, at all times, and to all.

On the other extreme we find what I call “Petridoxy.” If the metrodox are too progressive and trendy, the petridox are frozen in time, unable and unwilling to change. They have been petrified. They tend to fear change as a great evil, not realizing that their own practices were themselves once quite new (and likely controversial). They often have a very myopic perspective on their own history, believing their way has stood the test of time. They have no desire to critically examine their narrow perception of so-called “orthodoxy” or to evaluate whether what they’re doing actually does help to preserve and promote central orthodox beliefs and practices. Petridox churches would just as soon die a slow and painful death than make major adjustments. Having lost sight of the fundamental goal of receiving, preserving, and passing on the faith once for all entrusted to the saints, petridoxy settles on one method of receiving, one manner of preserving, and one means of passing on the faith . . . and then it congeals in that particular form. Petridoxy therefore tends to be primitivistic, reactionary, ultra-conservative, and idealistically nostalgic. However, petridoxy can be softened by refocusing attention on the purpose of the church’s forms and structures: to intentionally and clearly teach orthodoxy everywhere, at all times, and to all.

With this background on concepts of orthodoxy, heterodoxy, heresy, metrodoxy, and petridoxy, I’m ready to explain the concept of “RetroChristianity.” The prefix “retro” means “involving, relating to, or reminiscent of things past.” But in contemporary compound words, it indicates an attempt to bring the things of the past into the present, giving both the past and the present a new life.

First let me make it perfectly clear that RetroChristianity is not fundamentalism redivivus, a retreat back to Papal Rome, a pilgrimage to Eastern Orthodoxy, or a veiled attempt to promote a flaccid ecumenical faith. Rather it’s an honest attempt to more carefully navigate our received orthodox faith and practice through the precarious channel between metrodoxy and petridoxy, both of which can shipwreck the faith. Therefore, RetroChristianity wants to bridge the gap between the ancient and contemporary church without going to two extremes: 1) idealizing the ancient and condemning the modern, or 2) eschewing the ancient and seizing the contemporary. RetroChristianity has some things in common with the many “ancient-future” movements, while acknowledging that many forms of that trend can easily slip into just a new identity for metrodox churches . . . or drive headlong into the rocks of an out-of-touch primitivistic petridoxy. RetroChristianity tries to address the real practical questions of “how” we can intentionally and clearly teach orthodoxy everywhere, at all times, and to all. It also draws much of its inspiration from the concept of paleo-orthodoxy and thus explores the foundational work of the patristic period. But it also seeks to move, in concrete practical steps, from that pre-modern, pre-Christian cultural context to our post-modern, post-Christian context.

Ultimately RetroChristianity means carrying on a constant dialogue with the past, but it also requires an actual practical connection with the present and an orientation toward the future. Therefore, it asks how we can and ought to teach and practice orthodoxy everywhere (that is, in every kind of church and ministry around the world), always (in every ministry opportunity, outreach, or service), and to all (young and old, rich and poor, educated and uneducated, men and women). RetroChristianity demands that the past first be reckoned with on its own terms. It can not settle for picking over the past for relevant bits and pieces that will make us feel more “connected” to our roots. It can’t stand for politely consulting the ancient Christians to make us look sophisticated. And it can’t naively transplant the past into the present as if the preceding centuries of development never happened. As such, the dialogue is a complex, time-consuming, strenuous work that requires the input of many. This includes patristic, medieval, and reformation scholars; pastors, teachers, and laypeople; denominational and free churches, and numerous others interested in genuinely engaging in either real transformation . . . or unashamed preservation.

[Ya'll] Be Filled with the Spirit

2009-03-07T07:50:00.000-08:00

Probably a dozen times a year I’m asked, “How can I be filled with the Spirit”? The motivations behind this question, I think, are two: First, many traditions of sanctification have emphasized the filling of the Spirit as the key that unlocks the spiritual life. Being filled with (or by) the Spirit has been set forth as the one thing a believer must do to experience the fullness of the spiritual life. Second, believers struggling against temptation and sin are looking for an antidote. Like an immunization against a nagging illness, the experience of being filled with the Spirit sounds a lot like a spiritual booster shot against chronic temptation and sin.

But have we misunderstood the filling of the Spirit? Does that classic text have something more to say to the way we live together as a church rather than how we behave as individuals?

Certainly, we have clear examples of the Spirit filling individuals for service (Exod 31:3; Acts 4:8; 13:9). The filling of the Holy Spirit is always manifested through observable effects. These include wisdom, understanding, knowledge, skill, power, prophecy, healing, boldness, faith, joy, hope, and peace, among others (Exod 31:3; 35:31; Micah 3:8; Luke 1:67; Acts 2:4; 4:31; 6:5; 9:17; 13:52; Rom 15:13). So, one knows that an individual is filled with the Spirit based on the effects of the Spirit, which often correspond to the “fruit of the Spirit” (Gal 5:22–23). If you see the fruit, you know the root. But this individual indwelling and enabling is only one aspect of the filling of the Spirit (1 Cor 6:19). Paul also refers to a community aspect of the Spirit’s filling. He describes the church in Corinth as a temple of God, indwelled corporately by the Holy Spirit (1 Cor 3:16). So, the filling of the Spirit occurs in individuals, but it also occurs in the Church community (Acts 2:4; Eph 2:22).

Almost everything I read about Ephesians 5:18 relates it to the Christian’s individual surrender, yielding, decision, or action that fulfills the command to “be filled with the Spirit.” But could Paul’s primary intention in that passage be the community’s experience of the Spirit rather than the individual’s empowering? When he uses the second person plural, is Paul saying, “Each and every one of you must be filled individually” or is he saying, “Let you all as a community be filled”? The negative command, “Do not be drunk with wine” is also plural, but its possible that Paul was contrasting an inherently selfish, individualistic pleasure (drunkenness) with a selfless, corporate participation (spiritual life). Possible . . . but we need to let the context of Ephesians 5:18 guide our interpretation.

Many point out that Ephesians 5:18 is a passive command. How do we obey a passive command—regardless of whether it’s addressing an individual or a community? Well, we may have to stop doing something that obstructs the Spirit, or otherwise allow the Spirit to do what the Spirit wants. If we emphasize the individual aspect of this command, the problem is a bit more difficult—I must personally must stop or start something to allow the Spirit to fill me. But if Paul intended to emphasize the corporate aspect of the Spirit’s filling, this opens up the fulfillment of the command to reflect mutuality—“one another” living in community, among which the Spirit is producing corporate effects.

In any case, the Spirit’s filling must involve both individual and community elements, though I believe the broader context of Ephesians 5 points us toward a corporate filling of the Spirit. In Ephesians 2, Paul compared the Church as a corporate body to a holy temple, “in whom you [all] also are being built together into a dwelling of God in the Spirit” (2:22). The rest of the epistle emphasizes togetherness, unity of the one body, corporate giftedness, and spiritual growth together (see especially Eph 4). Thus, the letter as a whole focuses on the corporate spiritual life. In fact, the immediate context of Ephesians 5:18 emphasizes this same corporate mutuality. Following the passive plural command to be filled with the Spirit, Paul attaches a series of participles indicating what being filled with the Spirit looks like. Note the corporate effects of this Spirit filling: speaking to one another with melodious thankfulness (5:19–20) and being subject to one another after the example of Christ (5:21–6:9).

Thus, it appears that the command to “be filled with the Holy Spirit” refers primarily to allowing the Spirit to work in and through our relationships with each other in the Church community. Of course, this requires individual responses and responsibilities as we submit to each other, look out for each other’s interests, meet each other’s needs, and allow others to reciprocate their love and concern for us. But Ephesians 5:18 has little to do with being filled by the Spirit in order to resist temptation, conquer sin, or lick a bad habit. That worn-out application of the passage doesn’t quite fit Paul’s point.

Read in this light, Ephesians 5:18 is extremely convicting to us as we consider our own local churches. It demands that we answer several probing questions. Is our church community filled with the Spirit? Do we exude the attractive aroma of unity, care, support, encouragement, subjection to one another, and uplifting, joyful attitudes? Or do we exude an odor of disunity, selfishness, criticism, discouragement, rebellion, and destructive, pessimistic cynicism? Ask yourself, as you wander the halls of your church, overhear conversations, or whiff the “whine” from the grapevine—do you sense the warm breeze of the Spirit? Or, instead of being continually filled with the Spirit, does your community seem to have outposts of the Spirit battling against a lingering insurgency of the flesh? Or is it even worse than that? Is our church building just a whitewashed tomb, impressive on the outside but lacking Spirit-enabled community life within? Think about your church—and about your participation in its spiritual health. Then answer this important question for yourself: Are we filled with the Spirit?

A Biblical-Historical Model of Church Order, Part III

2009-01-26T10:04:00.001-08:00

Development of Complexity and Summary of the Model

The change from the apostolic to post-apostolic order in the local church was necessary to transition the newborn churches throughout the Roman world from the short time of dependence on the apostles and prophets to the long-term function of the churches without the apostles and prophets. In light of this new situation, the apostles and prophets reinforced their original offices of the elders (teachers, pastors, evangelists, etc,) and deacons (helpers, servers, ministers). Also, to maintain order and preserve the universal theological and practical principle of headship, the apostles appointed one of the elders in each church to serve as the overseeing elder, or “bishop.” At first this office of bishop appears to have been basically a prime among equals. The elders in a local church exercised considerable authority and held great responsibility, though the bishop provided central leadership, vision, and final authority on administrative matters, including the preservation of sound doctrine, the administration of the sacraments, and the general welfare of the elders and congregation.

As the centuries progressed, however, and especially as the church became a legal religion and then the favored religion in the Roman Empire, the office of bishop was seen as a position of great honor and power, no longer a prime among equals, but a separate and higher office than the elders. In this system the bishop had broad independent powers over large regions. The elders (soon called “priests”) were responsible for carrying out the bishop’s work in their local church parishes. And deacons were the ministers who assisted the priests in the local ministry. As the churches developed greater complexity of relationships among bishops, additional levels of oversight were developed, including archbishops. Ultimately the bishop of Rome claimed to hold the place of primacy over all other bishops and archbishops in the universal (“Catholic”) church.

We can therefore discern a development from a relatively “low episcopal” form of church order established by the apostles and their delegates, to a “moderate episcopal” form in late antiquity, and finally to a “high episcopal” form in the Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Anglican, and Episcopalian traditions. The “low episcopal” form actually seems to have functioned at a time when local churches had some degree of governmental autonomy, though they always had a consciousness of their belonging to a greater universal community of churches and bishops, and often corresponded, fellowshipped, and shared in ministry together. These were not what we would call “independent churches,” but “interdependent churches,” each with its own local church structure and headship, but actively engaged in a meta-community of churches both near and far. To draw on a modern analogy, these local city churches functioned as a loose association similar to the Evangelical Free Church or, perhaps, the Southern Baptist Convention.

Summing up, the basic contours of the early church order are fairly clear in both the biblical and historical records. The threefold order of overseer, elders, and deacons as the pastors, teachers, administrators, and ministers of the local church is so early and widespread that it seems inconceivable that anybody but the apostles themselves established this as the church order they meant for churches to follow after their departure. However, as history progressed, the original low to moderate episcopal structure became more and more complex and bureaucratic, resulting in a hierarchical system seen in the Episcopal, Anglican, Catholic, Orthodox, and, to some degree, Methodist traditions. Though this episcopal model reflects the post-apostolic office of the “bishop,” it takes the office beyond the “prime among equals” we see in the early church to an almost monarchical status.

In reaction to this system many Protestants of the Reformed tradition, relying almost entirely on the apostolic model of elders and deacons seen in the Bible, as well as addressing their own State-sponsored church needs, developed a Presbyterian or Synod form of governance in which authority rested in hierarchical levels of presbyteries—local, regional, and national. Though this “presbyterian” system reflects the biblical and historical emphasis on the authority of the council of elders, it fails to take into account the post-apostolic appointment of the bishop as head elder and responsible leader of the local church. It also adds concentric rings of authority and bureaucracy that are not apparent in the Bible or the early church. In reaction to both episcopal and presbyterian forms, the Congregationalists, drawing primarily on modern concepts of constitutionalism, democracy, and independence, established a form of governance in which final authority rested in the local congregation of members meeting and voting. Strangely, such a church order does not reflect at all the apostolic or post-apostolic order, which over and over again emphasized the authority and responsibility resting on the shoulders of the bishop, elders, and deacons trained and qualified for the work of the ministry. Although congregations were the source of leadership and were often involved in approving the ordination of elders and deacons, they were not the primary center of authority.

It has become common for Evangelical pastors, teachers, and scholars—especially independent church Evangelicals—to say that the Bible does not have a prescriptive local church order, and that the question of church order is therefore up to us to determine what kind of governance works best in our own culture. Part of the reason why this idea has been so prevalent for so long is because it allows for unity between denominations and traditions that had at one time fought over questions of church polity and order. Saying the Bible does not prescribe any particular order allows us to live at peace with a plurality of church structures. However, the statement that the Bible does not present a church order can only be maintained if we fail to read the Bible in its actual historical context, looking at the obvious transition from the apostolic to post-apostolic ministry and allowing early Christian writings outside the New Testament to help paint a fuller picture of what this post-apostolic structure actually looked like. Sadly, Evangelicals have been great at studying the Bible, but not great at studying early church history—especially the earliest church history that would help them actually read the Bible in its historical context. In the last twenty-five years an explosion of interest in second century studies among Evangelicals has led many scholars to question the old, worn-out answer that the Bible does not prescribe a church order. Rather, I and many other scholars have come to critique many historical and contemporary forms of church governance, comparing them with the way the apostles established local church order near the end of their ministries. Though we patristic scholars may disagree on various details of how these offices functioned, the general contours of a biblical-historical model of post-apostolic church order are discernible.

To conclude, a biblical-historical model of local church order includes trained, qualified, and ordained deacons (who function variously as ministers, servants, assistants, etc.); trained, qualified, and ordained elders (who function variously as pastors, teachers, evangelists, administrators, etc.); and a single trained, qualified, tried, and tested overseer (also known as bishop, overseeing elder, senior pastor, etc.). Such a model incorporates the strengths of episcopal, presbyterian, and even congregational church models, while remaining faithful to the order established by the apostles.

A Biblical-Historical Model of Church Order, Part II

2009-01-26T09:59:00.000-08:00

The Post-Apostolic Church Order (AD 70–)

In the previous post I described the prevalent local church order established by the apostles and their delegates during their ministry among the new churches throughout the world. However, because the foundational offices of apostles and prophets were temporary (1 Cor 12:28; Eph 2:20; 3:5; 4:11), and because the apostles and prophets exercised direct control over their various church plants, this model of church order could not continue beyond their passing. That is, after AD 70, when many original apostles had been martyred or began to otherwise expire, the need arose for itinerant apostles and prophets to establish a more permanent form of church governance that would survive them. Such a post-apostolic church order would not only have to be in continuity with what was already established in the middle of the first century, but it would also need to be reproducible from generation to generation.

We see the emergence of this post-apostolic church order already appearing in the later New Testament writings as well as the earliest post-New Testament Christian writings. These non-biblical writings are not themselves inspired or authoritative, but because they were written by those who ministered alongside the first generation of apostles, they help us see what the apostles actually established as the normative church order. They become vital historical sources to help us read the Bible in its actual historical context.

In the second half of the first century (c. AD 50–100), the Didache (or Teaching of the Twelve Apostles) was written over the course of several decades as a basic “how-to” manual of church order, including an early Christian instruction on baptism, the Lord’s Supper, and other pressing issues. It was likely written by leaders in Antioch for use by churches in the region planted by that larger church. In any case, we see within the text of the Didache a transition occurring from the itinerant leadership of apostles and prophets to a more stable local ministry. In Didache 11.3, we read, “And concerning the Apostles and Prophets, act thus according to the ordinance of the Gospel,” indicating that when Didache was written the churches were still under the roaming leadership of apostles and prophets. In fact, the Didache explains how these local churches and Christians can tell a true apostle or prophet from false apostles and prophets. However, anticipating that these foundational ministries would soon be passing off the scene, the Didache also says, “Appoint therefore for yourselves overseers (episkopoi) and deacons (diakonoi) worthy of the Lord, meek men, and not lovers of money, and truthful and approved, for they also minister to you the ministry of the prophets and teachers. Therefore do not despise them, for they are your honorable men together with the prophets and teachers” (Didache 15.1–2). The “prophets” and “teachers” most likely indicate prophets and early apostolic delegates such as Timothy, Titus, and others who had been established over local churches to shepherd them in their infancy. What we see here is a maturing of the churches and a transitioning from apostolic/prophetic ministries to local permanent offices. Among these offices, too, is an unnamed individual office of the preacher of God’s word: “My child, you shall remember, day and night, him who speaks the word of God to you, and you shall honor him as you honor the Lord, for where the Lord’s nature is spoken of, there is He present” (Didache 4.1). Here a distinct individual responsible for speaking the word of God may be singled out for special honor and respect, something we have not seen yet in the typical order of the apostolic period.

We also see this same kind of individual leader already present in the book of Revelation (around AD 95). In the messages to the seven churches of Asia Minor, Jesus repeatedly addressed the “messenger” (angelos) of each church: “To the messenger (angelos) of the church in Ephesus write,” “To the messenger (angelos) of the church in Smyrna write,” etc. Though some have taken this to refer to an angelic being, the term angelos in Greek is a general term that simply means “messenger,” either human or angelic. It is thus used of human messengers in the Greek translation of the Old Testament (Genesis 3:2–4; 16:7–12; 1 Samuel 19:11–20) and in the New Testament (Matthew 11:10; Luke 7:24, 27; James 2:25). In Revelation 2–3, though, we can be quite confident that a human messenger is meant by angelos. In the Greek text of the messages in chapter 2–3, Jesus addresses the angelos in the second person singular, commending the “messenger” for the good done as well as condemning the “messenger” for his failings. Most people reading the English text do not realize that Jesus is not addressing the whole church in the second person plural, but the messenger (angelos) of each church, who is responsible for the welfare of the local church body (see especially Revelation 3:15, 17, 19). Angelic beings could never be condemned for sin and urged to repent, so angelos must refer to a human leader in the local church who exercised distinct oversight among the elders .

In another book, the Shepherd of Hermas, written in the city of Rome beginning at about the same time as Revelation, we see an indication of a man among the leadership of the church in Rome occupying a distinct position of responsibility. In Shepherd of Hermas, Vision 2.8.3, we read, “Therefore you will write two little books, and you will send one to Clement and one to Grapte. Then Clement will send it to the cities abroad, because that is his job. But Grapte will instruct the widows and orphans. But you yourself will read it to this city, along with the elders (presbyteroi) who preside over the church.” Clement is singled out as the one responsible for representing the church of Rome to other churches, for he sends and receives messages, similar to the “messenger” of each church in Revelation 2–3.

Around AD 95, this Clement of Rome wrote a lengthy letter on behalf of the Roman elders to the church in Corinth admonishing them to unity after suffering from schism. In this letter Clement actually gives us an indication that the apostles did, in fact, establish a permanent church order intended to endure beyond the death of the apostles. Clement wrote: “And thus preaching through countries and cities, they [the apostles] appointed the first-fruits [of their labors], having first proved them by the Spirit, to be overseers (episkopoi) and deacons (diakonoi) of those who should afterwards believe” (1 Clement 42). A little later Clement wrote, “Our apostles also knew, through our Lord Jesus Christ, that there would be strife on account of the office of the overseer. For this reason, therefore, inasmuch as they had obtained a perfect foreknowledge of this, they appointed those [ministers] already mentioned, and afterwards gave instructions, that when these should fall asleep, other approved men should succeed them in their ministry” (1 Clement 44). Thus, Clement explains that the apostles established a permanent church order to endure in the local churches after their departure. This church order included the overseers (elders) and deacons (ministers). However, we also see that Clement himself is functioning as a supervising elder/overseer, with distinct responsibilities of oversight in the congregation. This is consistent with the individual called the “messenger” in the book of Revelation.

Within a few years, this threefold order of overseeing elder, elders, and deacons would be widespread throughout the entire Christian world, indicating that this was, in fact, the order established by the apostles near the end of the first century. By the early second century the three offices in a local church began to have distinct titles. Whereas Revelation called the lead elder the “messenger” (angelos), and Didache simply called him the “one who speaks the word of God to you,” the need developed to give this particular leader a consistent technical title. The name “overseer” (episkopos), which had originally been synonymous with “elder” (presbyeros) came to be used to describe this individual leader of the company of elders. Traditionally, the word episkopos is translated “bishop.” The “bishop” (episkopos) in each local church served alongside the company of elders (presbyteroi) and in conjunction with the deacons (diakonoi), and the “bishop” was himself one of the elders.

Around AD 110, Ignatius, bishop of Antioch, had been arrested, tried, and sentenced to death by the Roman governor. While being transported by Roman soldiers from Antioch in Syria to Rome to be fed to the wild animals for entertainment, he was able to stop in several cities in Asia Minor and receive visitors from nearby cities. Through the letters of Ignatius we see quite clearly that the threefold order of bishop, elders, and deacons was widespread throughout Asia Minor. We know, for example, that Onesimus (perhaps the slave of Philemon) was bishop of the church in Ephesus: “I have received in God’s name your whole congregation in the person of Onesimus, a man of inexpressible love who is also your earthly bishop (episkopos)” (Ignatius, Ephesians 1.3). We also know that Ignatius had been visited in Smyrna by leadership from the church in Magnesia: “I was found worthy to see you in the persons of Damas, your godly bishop (episkopos), and your worthy presbyters (presbyteroi) Bassus and Apollonius, and my fellow servant, the deacon (diakonon) Zotion” (Ignatius, Magnesians 2.1). Also, the famous Polycarp, who had been a disciple of the apostle John and who was appointed to his position by John, spent considerable time with Ignatius while the latter was in Smyrna. At one point Ignatius made this reference to the need for unity and submission to the established leadership in the church in Smyrna: “Pay attention to the bishop (episkopos), in order that God may pay attention to you. I am a ransom on behalf of those who are obedient to the bishop (episkopos), presbyters (presbyteroi), and deacons (diakonoi); may it be granted to me to have a place among them in the presence of God! Train together with one another: compete together, run together, suffer together, rest together, get up together, as God’s managers, assistants, and servants” (Ignatius, Polycarp 6.1).

Through numerous early church writings and historians, we know that Polycarp was the bishop of Smyrna, having likely been appointed by the Apostle John himself. We also know that in the church in Ephesus the bishop was Onesimus, perhaps the slave of the same name mentioned in Philemon. Many of these bishops, or “overseeing elders,” had been students of the apostles themselves and had been appointed to this position of oversight by the apostles, prophets, or their delegates.

Thus, what we see when the apostles and prophets pass off the scene is a distinct order of 1) overseer (episkopos), who was the presiding elder, or, in our modern term, the “senior pastor”; 2) the elders (functioning as pastors, teachers, evangelists, etc.), who had individual home groups or areas of pastoral responsibility; and 3) deacons (ministers, servants, administrators) who assisted the pastoral work of the elders. The congregation was not in charge. There was no distinction between a pastoral staff and elder board, and therefore there were not two leaders—chairman of elders and a senior pastor. There were no elders who were not pastors, nor pastors who were not elders. The senior pastor was also an elder and accountable to them, though he was responsible for leading, shepherding, teaching, and guiding the elders and the whole congregation.

This is the post-apostolic order that was established by the apostles themselves to continue on after their departure.

A Biblical-Historical Model of Church Order, Part I

2009-01-26T09:56:00.000-08:00

Introduction

The purpose of this series of essays is to present a picture of early church governance by tracing the development of local church leadership from the earliest apostolic period (AD 40 to 90) to the early post-apostolic period (AD 70–150). I will argue that the original first century apostles and prophets, knowing that their particular foundational offices were temporary, established a distinct and identifiable local church order, with the intention that this post-apostolic order continue after their deaths. This church order is discernible in the New Testament texts when read in light of the actual situation in the earliest post-apostolic churches (AD 70–150).

In preview, I will argue that the apostles and prophets of the New Testament church intended that local Christian churches reflect a three-fold office of episkopos (overseer), presbyteroi (elders), and diakonoi (ministers). Though the actual names and titles of these three offices changed over a period of about fifty years, eventually they settled on these particular terms to describe the offices necessary for administering worship, ministry, and service in the local church. Today we might call these offices “senior/lead pastor,” “elders,” and “deacons.”

The Apostolic Church Order (AD 40–90)

During the widespread missionary activities of the apostles (Paul, Peter, James, John, etc.) and their delegates (Timothy, Luke, Sosthenes, Silas, Clement, etc.), we see a simple twofold church order emerge, established by the apostles and based on the order of the original church in Jerusalem. In the Jerusalem church the original twelve disciples established the order of “deacons” to assist them in carrying out the work of the ministry (Acts 6:1–7). These “ministers” or “deacons” as they came to be called, were taken from the congregation and were ordained to their ministry by the apostles through the laying on of hands and prayer (Acts 6:6).

In Acts 20:17, 28, we see a clear description of the ministry of the elders in a local church. Near the end of his third missionary journey around AD 58, Paul made a brief stop in Miletus on the western coast of Asia Minor. From there “he sent to Ephesus and called to him the elders (presbyteroi) of the church” (Acts 20:17). We see that there was a clear identification of this group of leaders in that local city. After informing them of his determination of go to Jerusalem, he gave them the following charge: “Be on guard for yourselves and for all the flock, among which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers (episkopoi), to shepherd (poimaino) the church of God which He purchased with His own blood” (Acts 20:28). From Acts 20 we see the convergence of three key terms used to identify the leadership in the local church: presbyeroi (elders), episkopoi (overseers), and poimaino (to pastor or shepherd). At this stage in the development of local church order, “elder” and “overseer” were interchangeable terms, and these officers of the church were responsible for the pastoral work. There was no distinction between pastors and elders; these terms described the same office.

A few years later (AD 61), Paul wrote his letter to the Philippians, in which he addressed “all the saints in Christ Jesus who are in Philippi, including the overseers (episkopoi) and deacons (diakonoi).” Thus, we are informed that the local church in Philippi had a leadership structure of overseers (synonymous with “elders” and “pastors”) and deacons (synonymous with “ministers”), distinct from the general congregation of “saints.” All of these offices, though, were under the direct authority of the apostles and their delegates.

At about the same time, Paul wrote to the church in Ephesus and revealed the distinct ministries current in the first century apostolic period. In Ephesians 4:11–12, he wrote, “And He gave some as apostles, and some as prophets, and some as evangelists (euangelistai), and some as pastors (poinmenai) and teachers (didaskaloi), for the equipping of the saints for the work of service (diakonia).” In this list we see the foundational ministries of the apostles and prophets listed first. “Evangelists” may refer to apostolic delegates or, perhaps, to a type of leader in the local church (see 2 Tim 4:5). It is apparent, though, that “pastors and teachers” refer to those who are elders or overseers in the local church. It has been argued in the past that the Greek underlying “pastors and teachers” actually indicates a single office of “pastor-teacher,” but this view has been set aside in light of more recent research. Instead, it is best to see “pastors” and “teachers” as two types of elder and overseer ministries, so that within the office of “elder/overseer” there is a diversity of responsibilities: pastoral, teaching, and evangelistic. In any case, all of these offices were under direct authority of the apostles and prophets.

Near the end of Paul’s earthly ministry, he wrote his letters to Timothy, who was at that time in charge of the church in Ephesus. This is in continuity with the pattern of apostles and prophets (and their delegates) exercising direct authority over the local church leadership of elders and deacons. In this context, Paul wrote to Timothy, the “apostolic” leader in Ephesus, “If any man aspires to the office of overseer (episkopos), it is a fine work he desires to do. An overseer (episkopos), then must be above reproach, the husband of one wife, temperate, prudent, respectable, hospitable, able to teach, not addicted to wine or pugnacious, but gentle, peaceable, free from the love of money. He must be one who manages his own household well, keeping his children under control with all dignity (but if a man does not know how to manage his own household, how will be take care of the church of God?), and not a new convert, so that he will not become conceited and fall into the condemnation incurred by the devil. And he must have a good reputation with those outside the church, so that he will not fall into reproach and the snare of the devil” (1 Timothy 3:1–7). Here we see the general qualifications for the office of “overseer” or, as it is called in other texts, “elder.” The qualifications include teaching, managing, and shepherding.

Following this description, Paul deals with the other office in the local church, the “deacons.” He writes, “Deacons likewise must be men of dignity, not double-tongued, or addicted to much wine or fond of sordid gain, but holding to the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience. These men must also first be tested; then let them serve as deacons if they are beyond reproach” (1 Timothy 3:8–10). He also gives qualifications for their wives and notes that they must be able to manage their own households well (3:11–13).

Paul then explains to Timothy why he is writing these things: “In case I am delayed, I write so that you will know how one ought to conduct himself in the household of God, which is the church of the living God, the pillar and support of the truth” (3:15). That is, Paul is both describing and prescribing how leadership in the local church should be ordered under the oversight of Timothy, Paul’s personal apostolic delegate. So we see emerging, with the absence of the apostle himself, a threefold ministry—the apostolic leader (Timothy), the elders/overseers/pastors/teachers/managers (the episkopoi) and the deacons/ministers (diakonoi).

It is important to point out that at this time some elders in the church of Ephesus were compensated for their service. First Timothy 5:17–18 states, “The elders (presbyteroi) who rule well are to be considered worthy of double honor, especially those who work hard at preaching and teaching. For the Scripture says, ‘You shall not muzzle the ox while he is threshing,’ and ‘The laborer is worthy of his wages.’” The church at this time was undoubtedly compensating those who devoted their lives to full time proclamation and teaching in Ephesus. The fact that some elders were compensated for their pastoral work did not mean they ceased to be elders.

Paul wrote a similar epistle to his delegate, Titus, whom he left in Crete. He wrote, “For this reason I left you in Crete, that you would set in order what remains and appoint elders (presbyteroi) in every city as I directed you” (Titus 1:5). In his description of the qualifications for these elders, he uses the alternate term, episkopos: “For the overseer (episkopos) must be above reproach as God’s steward” (1:7). The responsibilities of the elders/overseers include moral qualities, but also the ability to “hold fast the faithful word which is in accordance with the teaching, so that he will be able both to exhort in sound doctrine and to refute those who contradict.” That is, the elders/overseers were primarily responsible for doctrine, teaching, and correction.

Around the same time (AD 63–64), the apostle Peter also made mention of the kind of apostolic church order that existed under the ministry and authority of the apostles and prophets. He wrote, “I exhort the elders (presbyteroi) among you, as your fellow elder (presbyeros) and witness of the sufferings of Christ, and a partaker also of the glory that is to be revealed, shepherd (poimaino) the flock of God among you, exercising oversight (episkopeo) not under compulsion, but voluntarily, according to the will of God; and not for sordid gain, but with eagerness; nor yet as lording it over those allotted to your charge, but proving to be examples to the flock” (1 Peter 5:1–3). In this passage, the same trio of descriptions is used of this body of leadership: elder, overseer, pastor, indicating that these various responsibilities rested within the same group of leaders in the churches. In fact, Peter, an apostle, counted himself among the “elders,” even though he exercised direct authority over the others as an apostle.

I must at this juncture point out that this apostolic church order only prevailed as long as the apostles, prophets, and their delegates were present among the churches to exercise apostolic oversight and leadership. The apostles and prophets (Paul, John, Peter, James, Timothy, Titus, etc.) exercised authority over these churches, appointing and instructing elders, ordaining them to their offices, and serving as advisors and supervisors. Also, it was typical for each elder/overseer, probably in conjunction with a deacon, to be responsible for individual “home churches” within the larger city church. We see this described in detail in Paul’s letter to the Romans (AD 57–58), where he mentions several names and those congregations that met in their homes (Romans 16:3–15). That is, we are not seeing here a single body of believers with multiple leaders, but rather a single local city church composed of smaller groups, with each group under the care of an elder/overseer/pastor working with one (or more?) deacons/ministers. Thus, each local city/community church was composed of smaller identifiable groups each under the care of an elder and deacon.

A Biblical-Historical Model of Church Order, Part IV

2009-01-26T09:48:00.000-08:00

The Problem of Contextualization

Though I have presented what I see as the contours of the biblical-historical local church order as it developed from the apostolic to post-apostolic period between AD 40 and 140, the practical question becomes, “Is this early church order descriptive or prescriptive?” That is, though the apostles and prophets established a particular church order in the late first century, are we Christians in the twenty-first century bound to this apostolic church order? We can approach this question with three models: primitivism, progressivism, or progress through perspective.

Primitivism seeks to adopt the ancient church order and practices, transforming our current forms to match—as closely as possible—the order of the early post-apostolic churches. However, such an approach fails to realize the unique historical and cultural situations of both the early churches and our twenty-first century churches. If the apostles had lived in twenty-first century North America, perhaps their order would have been different.

Progressivism seeks to reinvent Christian forms and structures for each new generation. A radical form of progressivism questions everything from doctrine to practice and has led many branches of Christianity into liberalism. But a more moderate progressivism tries to distinguish between form and substance, asserting that the message (theology) must be preserved, but its medium (method of communication) can change with new cultural contexts. In a progressivist approach to church order, the apostolic theology is important, but apostolic methods of doing church and ministry are often downplayed or ignored.

Progress through perspective seeks to adapt the apostolic teaching for the unique twenty-first century context. Generally, this mediating position is compelled to follow the apostolic teaching as its primary guide, but not in a way that forces a second century cultural form into a twenty-first century context. This position acknowledges that some things simply do not fit in our current cultures, but thinking through these issues is a difficult process that requires time, deliberation, and constant re-evaluation.

Where do I think we stand? In 2 Thessalonians 2:15, Paul wrote, “Stand firm and hold to the traditions which you were taught, whether by word of mouth or by letter from us.” In light of this New Testament command, if we can actually determine the kind of local church order that was established by the apostles, I believe we are obligated to at least pay attention to it as we think about our own twenty-first century church order. It should not necessarily radically transform our current model, but as we seek to adjust our model of church order, the post-apostolic model should at least reasonably inform our decisions. As we make adjustments, it must be thoughtful and prudent, not merely pragmatic and convenient.

However, we must never forget that the apostolic age was very different from our own, and adopting the biblical-historical model without adapting it can be disastrous. For example, the earliest bishops and elders were hand-picked by the apostles and their delegates. Today we do not have apostles to appoint our pastor and elders. Also, the early churches enjoyed much more intimate inter-church community, so that each bishop and church was accountable to other bishops and churches in the region. Today our independent churches and separate denominations do not have this kind of mutual accountability. Another difference is that the early church did not have a complete canon of New Testament Scripture and therefore the bishop and elders had to be relied upon to preserve and defend the oral teaching of the apostles. Today we have a full canon of Scripture and final authority rests in the inspired, inerrant Word of God, to which all pastors and elders must submit. Similarly, the early church faced great challenges from false teachers, threats that demanded a strong leadership structure to provide doctrinal guidance in the midst of a hurricane of heresies. But today we have two thousand years of theological development and reflection, so that some of the issues that caused such concern in the early church are unquestioned by most believers. Differences like these must be considered as we approach the issue of how the biblical-historical model of church governance ought to inform our own approach. In short, we must proceed with caution.

However, I believe the model should serve to at least inform us as we think through questions of church order, especially in constitutionally-established independent churches and new church plants. As I reflect on “typical” (if I can use this term safely) tendencies in independent churches with regard to church governance, I would suggest considering the following, all of which would require careful, wise, and prayerful thought.

1. Consider unifying the pastoral staff and Elder Board into a single Council of Elders. I believe it is impossible to justify biblically or historically a separation of elders and pastors into two distinct groups. Biblically, all pastors must be elders. It seems permissible to appoint (i.e., ordain) certain elders to full time work in preaching, teaching, and evangelism, but being thus appointed does not mean these workers cease to be elders. (See 1 Timothy 5:17–18 for the biblical precedence of compensating elders for their pastoral work). In the biblical-historical model, elders did not merely oversee the work of pastors, teachers, and evangelists, but they were the pastors, teachers, and evangelists. Wouldn’t full time “pastors” as members of the elder board make the most biblical sense?

2. Consider appointing the Lead Pastor as Chairman of the Elder Board. If our “Lead” or “Senior” Pastor is functioning similar to the “overseeing elder” (episkopos) of the post-apostolic model, then should he not also function as the head of the Board of Elders? This would mean, of course, that we would consider restoring the Pastor to his biblical place as the head of the local church—not in a dictatorial sense, but in a sense of always being accountable to his fellow elders while providing the personal point of leadership. This would render the office of “Chairman of the Elder Board” redundant, as the Pastor would be the Chair.

3. Consider revising Elder and Deacon term limits. Nothing in the biblical-historical model suggests that elders and deacons in a local church served for a short time on a rotating basis. In fact, according to Clement of Rome’s recollection, the apostles had appointed presbyters until death. Would longer terms with less turnover better fit the biblical-historical model? Or, to keep elders and deacons accountable to the congregation, would two consecutive three-year terms and a sabbatical year of rest help create some greater continuity and stability? Considering that elders and deacons in the early church were appointed for life, would some modification here make sense?

4. Consider revisiting qualifications for Elders and Deacons. In light of the above suggestions, especially the possible return of pastors to the elder board and revising elder and deacon term limits, the question of qualifications for leadership would need to be revisited. Because elders were the teaching, pastoring, and preaching leaders of the early church, are we drifting from the biblical model if our elders are not functioning in these roles? Should those who are currently teaching, pastoring, and preaching be the elders (i.e., those who are already functioning as the biblical elders without the actual office)? Several questions here need to be asked. Since there is no biblical distinction between elders and pastors, should our elders be trained, ordained men, meeting the same qualifications as our pastors? Why should our requirements for elders be less than that of pastors? These are simply questions that need to be raised.

Fourteen Years and Counting...

2008-12-22T13:57:00.000-08:00

Today, December 22, 2008, marks my fourteenth wedding anniversary. It was the first of two weddings. Yes, I’ve been married twice—to the same woman and never divorced. The private legal wedding was December 22, 1994; the public church wedding was on June 10, 1995. No, it wasn’t a “Luger” wedding (my German father-in-law doesn’t even own a gun). We were legally married six months early so Steph’s immigrant visa would be ready by our planned wedding date in June. It didn’t work. Needless to say, I now have two wedding anniversaries to remember.

But today I remember one of the greatest days of my life. On a cold winter day in the Rathaus of Bad-Lauterberg, Germany . . . before a German official I didn’t understand . . . in a language I hadn’t yet mastered, Stephanie Sandra Schröder said “Ja” and became Stephanie Sandra Svigel. Poor thing. And to think she could actually read and understand the German document she was signing!

I certainly got the better deal. Stephanie married a student and for thirteen of the last fourteen years she was still married to a student. Through it all, she's been a faithful wife, mother, nurse, and best friend . . . and complained far less than she should have. She’s more than I deserve and not a day goes by that I don’t thank God for her “Ja.”

Whether she has any regrets or not, she’s now stuck with me. Because one thing’s for sure—I’m not letting her go.

I love you, Schatz, and can’t wait for the next fourteen years.

Quest for the Historical Santa

2008-12-20T13:35:00.000-08:00

As a kid growing up in Keewatin, Minnesota, my younger brother and I would frequent the home of old “Grandma” Odie just down the alley. She’d always give us cookies or candy . . . and, due to her senility, she would ask us the same questions over and over again. One year around Christmas, she asked what we wanted from Santa. I sharply answered, “We don’t believe in Santa Claus.”

Granda Odie frowned. “You don’t believe in Santa Claus?”

“No. It’s just our mommy and daddy.”

“Well, I believe in Santa Claus,” she answered.

“You do?”

“Of course! I believe Santa Claus is a spirit, and he gives you the Christmas spirit in your heart.”

At that point I just shut my mouth and took another bite of my cookie. For Grandma Odie, “Santa” was a meaningful symbol of the Christmas spirit. And as long as it didn’t involve a rotund man climbing down my chimney in the middle of the night, I was willing to give her a pass.

From that point on through my childhood and adolescence, I accepted the "idea" of Santa Claus as a quaint symbol for a festive spirit, joyful demeanor, or even charitable virtue. But I had little interest in considering whether there ever was a real Santa Claus. Grandma Odie’s spiritualized interpretation was good enough for me. Having conveniently dismissed the Claus of history, I replaced him with the Santa of faith.

However, over the last several years, my study of early church history constantly led me across the path of the mysterious St. Nicholas of Myra—a.k.a. Saint Nick, Nikolaus, or Santa Claus. As a result, I became more and more interested in the historical man behind the mythical symbol.

Sadly, though, my quest for the historical Santa was a short one. The fact is, historians really don’t know a whole lot about Nicholas of Myra. The biographies we have were written centuries after his death and are filled with all sorts of far-fetched legendary accounts. Here’s what we know: Nicholas of Myra was born in southern Asia Minor (modern Turkey) in the late third century (around A.D. 270). By the early fourth century, he was serving as the bishop of Myra. He died around A.D. 346 on December 6, which is his feast day.

That’s the extent of our relative certainty.

Going a bit beyond the facts of history, St. Nicholas is known as having been a very generous person, who gave liberally to the poor and defended the oppressed. Many details of his charity are sketchy and legendary, but it seems likely that he cared for children as well as showed hospitality to sailors and foreigners—those who were constantly passing through the port city of Myra. (Yes, he was from the coastal Mediterranean. No, he was not from the North Pole.)

It's probable, too, that Nicholas suffered imprisonment and mistreatment during the great Roman persecution under Emperor Diocletian, who reigned from 284–305. And we have some reason to believe that Nicholas attended the first ecumenical council of Nicaea in 325, where Arius was condemned for denying the deity of Christ. Nicholas’s name appears on some lists of those bishops in attendance. I don’t see any reason why he would not have attended the council, for his southern coastal city of Myra was about 400 miles from Nicaea in the north, and he would have only been about 55 at the time. (Besides, didn't he have a fleet of flying reindeer?)

From this point in the biography of Nicholas we embark into the purely legendary, which may or may not have any relationship to the actual history. Tales are told about his many miracles—from calming the seas to bringing children back to life. He is often called “Nicholas the Wonderworker” because of the accounts of miracles appearing in medieval biographies and artwork. But outside of the miraculous, the most interesting legend for me is the story of Nicholas striking Arius in the face at the Council of Nicaea. (Not quite the jolly old Saint Nicholas we imagine!) But the historical evidence for Santa Claus punching heretics in the nose isn’t strong enough for us to start a Christmas tradition of getting into fist fights with Jehovah’s Witnesses.

Thus ends my quest for the historical Santa. Yes, St. Nicholas is more than simply a symbol of the holiday spirit . . . but not much more. If your children ask you this Christmas if Santa Claus was a real person, you may confidently answer, “Yes.” But beyond that, there’s really not much more we can say for sure.

Wort des Lebens Esra-Training, 2009

2008-12-05T19:42:00.000-08:00

I have been invited to teach 1000 years of Church History as a guest lecture at the Wort des Lebens Esra-Training. (Word of Life Ezra Training) program in Heidesee, Germany, just outside of Berlin. The Esra-Training program is designed for young adults and includes training in Bible, doctrine, church history, and a strong emphasis on hands-on ministry. Those of you familiar with the Word of Life Bible Institutes in Schroon Lake, NY and Hudson, FL already know this kind of ministry and the impact it has on the lives of young people. So I’m excited and honored to be involved even in this limited, short-term capacity.

The one-week trip is coming up in February, 2009, and I’m seeking both financial and prayer support. The financial part is quite minimal, but I’m in great need of prayer support, so I wanted to post this request here. In particular, I’m asking for prayer for the following items:

1. Pray for God’s provision of finances, health, and safety both prior to the trip, during the week in Germany, and upon my return to the States.

2. Pray for the students at Wort des Lebens Esra-Training, that they will learn and grow through the instruction and that through them the body of Christ worldwide would be equipped and strengthened.

3. Pray for God’s protection of my family while I’m away, and especially for patience and perseverance for Stephanie as she has to keep trying to explain to Sophie, Lucas, and Nathan why their father is gone for so long.

4. Pray for the teaching time itself. Though I will have a translator, I will also be attempting to teach as much in German as I can, which will be a first experience for me. Pray for a comfortable dynamic between the students, the translator, and me.

5. Pray that the Father, Son, and Spirit would be honored and glorified as I tell the history of Christ’s Church to many who have never heard it before.

If you are interested in committing to prayer support over the next few months, please contact me by email. I’d be happy to send you my “official support letter.” You can find my email address information in the left-hand column.

Now, back to grading…

Yes, That’s My Head!

2008-11-28T20:23:00.000-08:00

Saving thousands of dollars by home haircuts over the last thirteen years no longer seems worth it. Due to a terrible, unpredictable mechanical failure, the 1/4 inch attachment comb on my Andis made-in-China, no-hassle, easy-clean, do-it-yourself, haircut-in-a-box, electric clipper automatically detached. Detached!

Utter disaster ensued. Just as the soothing hum and mesmerizing buzz of the clipper began to lull me into a peaceful trance, I suddenly felt the vibrating metal blade cold against my skin. For a moment it tingled, but it was the kind of tingle that nauseates you. Before I could pull away, shout, or strike out at the maleficent machine in self-defense, it was too late. The damage was done . . . irreversible . . . irreparable.

For several minutes after I realized what happened, every cuss word imaginable ran through my mind . . . and some crossed my lips. I distinctly remember uttering “Holy Mother of God,” a phrase I’ve never used in my life and, because I’m not Roman Catholic, does not technically qualify as a sin.

My wife was comforting, but honest. Yes, she confessed instantly that it was horrible. No, it wasn’t her fault. The attachment comb failed to stay attached. It simply, silently, slid to the floor on the up-stroke. And thus the deed was done by the gentle hand of my beloved wife—innocently, without malice, but done nonetheless.

I sat in ponderous silence for several minutes, considering my options. Shave my whole head? Never, though two of my colleagues in Theological Studies would be oh so delighted if I did. Hide in my home for a week? Impossible. Shave the other side the same way and pretend it was intended? Come on, now!

As my mind raced, my wife sheepishly chimed in with a suggestion: “I could shave it all off along the back…”

I winced. “I’ll look like a monk,” I blurted, apparently concluding that looking like an idiot would be far better.

After re-attaching the easily-detachable 1/4 inch attachment, my wife carefully finished clipping my hair like she had done every month for the last thirteen years. But this time a somber, almost sacred air rudely intruded on an otherwise joyous and carefree ritual. Like an undertaker grooming a corpse for a funeral, my wife finished the job and examined the damage more carefully.

Still horrible.

After a few minutes of wrangling, we decided to try clipping the back of my head an additional 1/8 inch, hoping to blend the bald spot in with its surroundings. But we quickly learned that blending only works if both patches have something to offer. Blending baldness in with itself doesn’t work.

So now I’m stuck with what looks like a failed attempt at cutting a road through a wheat field. Or—to use an analogy more appropriate for the thinness of my hair—like digging a canal through a desert. It isn’t merely noticeable, it’s laughable! I might as well have my wife write “Look at this!” across the space with a bold Sharpie.

After emerging from a long, hot shower, I gave my dear wife an embrace that said, “Don’t worry about it,” and informed her that I would do the only thing anybody can do in a situation like this.

I’ll draw as much attention to it and make as much fun of it as possible before it grows back.

Primitivism or Progressivism?

2008-11-04T06:46:00.000-08:00

If the average Christian were to make a movie based on his or her knowledge of church history, the first act would cover Christ and the apostles. Then, as the camera slowly zoomed in to the apostle John lifting his pen from the last word of Revelation, the scene would suddenly cut to Martin Luther nailing his Ninety-five Thesis to the door at the church in Wittenberg on the eve of the Reformation. Between the first century apostles and the sixteenth century reformers, many Christians picture a dark abyss, a meaningless span of time often dismissed as the “dark ages.”

When did these “Dark Ages” begin? To some, it was a gradual process that started shortly after the apostles. After all, didn’t Paul warn the Ephesians that “savage wolves will come in among you and will not spare the flock” (Acts 20:29)? Others believe the church continued to be rather healthy for several centuries until Constantine (that rascal!) “hijacked” the faith in AD 325 for political reasons, merging church and state and changing everything from basic doctrines to sacred Scripture. Still others believe that in the midst of general apostasy, a remnant remained—perhaps within the Catholic Church itself—but maybe hiding out in the mountains or forests, surviving through periodic witch-hunts and persecutions that tried to destroy them. Still others feel the whole of church history simply can’t be trusted to give us anything other than interesting anecdotes or a few examples of errors to avoid. But looking back when we need to be moving forward? What sense would that make?

The truth is, the Bible gave birth to a new Spirit-filled community of Christ . . . a growing and learning depository of truth once for all delivered to the saints . . . a legacy of pastors and teachers gifted to the church for the equipping of the saints (Ephesians 4:11ff.). Of course, the history of Christianity—even the church we see in the New Testament period itself—is characterized by good, bad, and, yes, even ugly people and events. Evangelicals who dive into the deep waters of church history often make one of two mistakes. They either embrace certain periods as ideal, believing the modern church ought to return to the “good ol’ days” of the ancient church, the Reformation church, or their own local church. Or they regard the past negatively, believing today’s churches ought to keep up with the times, stay culturally relevant, and forget the worn out traditions of the past. The first view is primitivism and might resonate with the words of the Judds’s country ballad, “Grandpa, Tell Me ’Bout the Good Old Days”—

Grandpa, everything is changing fast
We call it progress, but I just don't know
And grandpa, let’s wander back into the past
And paint me the picture of long ago.

The opposite of primitivism is progressivism, a view that finds a kindred spirit in Bob Dylan’s “The Times They Are A-Changin’”—

Come mothers and fathers throughout the land
And don’t criticize what you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly agin’.
Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin’.

Primitivism seeks to adopt the forms, methods, and practices of the ancient church, transforming our current forms to match—as closely as possible—the way the first Christians did things. Or, if the ancient church seems just too, well, ancient to be workable, some want to at least return to the Reformation, seeking refuge in the writings of the Reformers like Luther and Calvin. But if late medieval doesn’t do it for you, some primitivists seek to go back to the golden age of their own denomination or church—back to the good old days when everything seemed to be better than it is now. However, such an approach fails to realize the unique historical and cultural situation every generation faces. Our twenty-first century church doesn’t exist in the same world as the first century . . . or the sixteenth . . . or even the twentieth. To some degree, we all need to come to grips with the basic truth behind Dylan’s song: the times they are a-changin’. Going back is not merely undesirable . . . it’s impossible.

In contrast, progressivism seeks to reinvent Christian forms and structures for each new generation. A radical form of progressivism questions everything—theology . . . worship . . . authority . . . morality. Radicals have led many branches of Christianity into liberalism and ultimately out of Christianity itself. But a more moderate progressivism has tried to hold on to the essential core of Christianity’s ideals while re-dressing a stripped-down faith in a modern garb. Moderate progressivists contend that the message must remain timeless, but the medium must be timely. They insist that the methods of communicating the “old, old story” must be new, fresh, and innovative. But progressivists sometimes forget that the message is never understood apart from its method of communication. And certain methods of communication could severely undercut Christian values like real authenticity or true community. And an obsession with keeping up with the times can become an endless and exhausting rat race that costs more time and money than it’s really worth. The Judds make an important observation we shouldn’t soon forget: everything is changing fast; we call it progress, but I just don’t know.

A middle way, progress through perspective, seeks to adapt the methods of the past for our unique twenty-first century context. Rather than retreating into the past, we look back for inspiration and insight. We learn from past mistakes . . . but we also find forgotten truths that can help correct present errors. We can glean priceless wisdom for today’s postmodern world from the ancient, pre-modern world. We can make future course corrections as we glance back at the original Reformation trajectory. And we can learn from our own local church tradition as we seek to remain faithful to our past while we become fruitful in our present. We must acknowledge that some things from the past simply don’t fit our current culture. But like old hats or ties that suddenly come back in style, sometimes forsaken forms of ministry can feel fresh and innovative, addressing neglected needs. Moving forward by looking backward can be a difficult process requiring time, study, deliberation, and constant re-evaluation, but it can avoid the extremes of wide-eyed primitivism and wild-eyed progressivism.

No doubt about it, the times they are a-changin’. But instead of getting crushed by the rising tide of radical change, let’s face the future equipped with the wisdom of countless generations that have gone before.

Are You an Evangelical?

2008-10-24T07:35:00.000-07:00

I am often asked, “What does it mean to be an Evangelical?” The problem of defining evangelicalism is almost insurmountable. Whole books have been written about this. Attempted answers include “Anybody who believes in inerrancy” . . . “Protestants who hold to the fundamentals of the faith” . . . “Anybody who likes Billy Graham.” I once answered the question of Evangelical identity with the statement, “An Evangelical is a person who attends an Evangelical church, believes Evangelical doctrines, supports Evangelical organizations, and hangs out with other Evangelicals.”

As I was sitting in church one day, the pastor said something and I thought, “Now only an Evangelical would say that.” This brought the question into my mind again: what makes a person an Evangelical?

So, I jotted down a few telltale signs of Evangelical identity. It’s just a working list and I’m sure we could add dozens more.

1. At least half of all businesses you patronize have a fish symbol in the window.

2. Without hesitation you can complete the phrase, “And all God’s people said…”

3. You’ve attended or watched Billy Graham crusades even though you’ve been saved for decades.

4. You really believe FoxNews is fair and balanced.

5. You’ve done two of the four following activities: attended a stewardship seminar, attended a marriage conference, homeschooled your children, or boycotted a
business.

6. You know the meaning of at least three of the four following abbreviations: TBN, BJU, NIV, and SBC.

7. You actually understand numbers 1–6.

I could come up with more, but why don’t you help? What are some “litmus tests” of Evangelicalism that might help us work out a more satisfactory description?

Working Out the Inner Work (or, "Sancti-fried... Revisited")

2008-09-17T21:10:00.000-07:00

If you've ever had your vehicle stuck in the mud, you’ll remember trying anything to get out: shifting into low gear, jerking the steering wheel to the right or left, spinning the wheels in reverse, pushing the gas pedal to the floor, even emptying extra weight to lighten your load. Finally, with mud covering every square inch of your vehicle, you admit defeat. You accept the fact that the only solution to your inextricable dilemma is to call for help.

Whether we like it or not, that’s life. Each of us, left to ourselves, is hopelessly stuck in the mire of our own depravity. Apart from God’s sovereign acts of grace, we’re helpless. Without God pulling us free from the muck and washing us clean, we would continue to wallow in the slime of our own filth.

But thankfully, God didn’t leave us to ourselves. He provided the death and resurrection of Christ to pay the penalty for our sins and to grant us new life. He sent His Spirit to regenerate us—not merely on our spiritual birthday, but continually. We have an eternal relationship with the Spirit of Life, who continues His regenerating work in us. Yes, God has declared us righteous once and for all in Christ (“justification”). But we too often forget that God is also making us righteous by His Spirit (“sanctification”).

But if God does the work, what part to we play in sanctification? Is there nothing we can do to affect our spiritual growth?

More than Methods

Methods of nullifying the old nature and nurturing the new are almost as plentiful as the people who peddle them. Whole systems of sanctification have grown up over the centuries, each promising the most effective way. The victorious Christian life, exchanged life, Methodism, holiness, second blessing, sacramentalism, personal disciplines, corporate disciplines, mysticism, asceticism, monasticism, asceticism, contemplation . . . the list goes on.

My complaint about these various approaches is not that they are wrong, but that they often claim to be too right. Most of them have something true to contribute to a diverse tradition of Christian spirituality, but none of them can claim to be the sole biblical path to spiritual maturity. Some of the models of sanctification came on the scene when individual Christians (or small communities) experienced remarkable spiritual blessing while engaged in a particular approach to the Christian life. However, instead of viewing their method as a neutral means through which God chose to work His sanctifying grace, their gaze became fixated on the method itself.

Yet if the means of sanctification does not include some method, what should we do? Is the solution to be passive, to “wait on the Lord” for an instant change of heart?

This idea of passive sanctification reminds me of one of my Bible College roommates who would return to the dorm after a weekend of shameless fornication. When I confronted him about it, he responded, “God’s in control. When He wants me to stop living this way, He’ll take those desires away.” Yes, God is in control. And in His sovereignty He cast my roommate out of Bible College.

The answer is obviously not to passively wait for God to suddenly, instantly, and miraculously change us. Though that kind of deliverance may happen to some, it probably won’t happen to you and me. Instead, my own answer to the question of what we should do in response to God’s sovereignty over our sanctification is quite simple.

Do whatever it takes and do it now!

God’s Inner Work

In Philippians 2:12, Paul wrote, “Just as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your salvation with fear and trembling.” I can’t think of a clearer text regarding our responsibility to obey. The verb “work out” in Greek is a simple command. This passage emphasizes working, not waiting; being productive, not passive. According to Paul, our responsibility for sanctification is to simply obey.

Paul could have stopped at verse 12 and his practical intentions would have been perfectly clear. But instead, he removed the service panel from the Christian life and revealed the inner workings of sanctification. In just a few powerful words we see that our work of willing, active obedience in salvation is not the cause of sanctification, but the effect. Paul said, “Work out your salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure” (Philippians 3:12–13).

All too often I meet Christians who want to somehow soften this language, to read into it some foreign concept of cooperation, of God’s response to our willing hearts, of the Spirit’s work of lending a helping hand to our honest efforts. Too many believers want to live the Christian life as if God were holding back His provision of power until we take the first step. This idea is completely contrary to what Paul says in Philippians 2 about our obedience in salvation. It is God who is at work in us, not only to work, but also to will. At the same time, God works all things in this world together for our good (Romans 8:28). So, by both inward and outward means, God affects our sanctification.

However, rather than instantly zapping us into mature saints, God gradually affects our spiritual growth through several means of sanctification that stir faith in us. That faith, itself granted by God, then manifests itself through the fruit of the Spirit.

What are these means of sanctification?

Means of Sanctification

One crucial means is God’s church. Yes, that place, or, more accurately, those people. Whether you’re ready to accept it or not, the gathering of a local church community is the primary means God uses to sanctify you. Hebrews 10:24–25 says, “Let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another.” Within the community believers exercise their spiritual gifts for the common good (1 Corinthians 12:7). Within the community gifted teachers grow believers into the image of Christ (Ephesians 4:11–16). And within the church community, God’s Spirit works through our observance of the Lord’s Supper, confirming our covenant relationship with God and others (1 Corinthians 11:20–32).

Another means of sanctification is personal discipline. Paul told Timothy, “Discipline yourself for the purpose of godliness; for bodily discipline is only of little profit, but godliness is profitable for all things” (1 Timothy 4:7–8). Spiritual discipline includes positive things like reading Scripture, prayer, fasting, and the like. But it also includes things you might do to protect yourself from temptation or break a pattern of sin. In my experience sin is like a fire—the more you feed it by, the stronger it gets. But if, by whatever means, you can keep from obsessively engaging in a particular sin, its controling power will wane. Spiritual disciplines are perhaps the most personal aspect of sanctification, for no believer’s struggles are the same, and not all individuals respond the same way to the same means. The key is to keep hard at it, engaging in spiritual disciplines that move you closer to God and to His people. Any of the numerous methods of spiritual growth may work well for many people. But it’s not ultimately the method itself that does the work. Through these means God works in you and for you. Instead of fixing your gaze on the method that seems to work for you, fix your gaze on “the author and finisher of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2, KJV), for it is God at work in us to conform us to the image of Christ by the power of His Spirit.

To Him, not us, be the glory forever.

Coffee, Dylan, & Church

2008-09-11T20:53:00.000-07:00

As I was driving to a meeting at church one evening sipping my Starbucks and listening to Bob Dylan’s “One More Cup of Coffee for the Road,” I suddenly realized that coffee, Dylan, and church have something in common.

For most people these three are acquired tastes. I love all three, but if I’m absolutely honest, I’ll have to admit that there are a lot of “yucks” a person needs to overcome (or overlook) before the greatness of these three can be appreciated.

Let’s start with my honest appraisal of coffee. In many ways, it’s a horrible beverage. If the brew is too weak, it tastes like dirty water; if it’s too strong, it tastes like motor oil. To temper the inherent nastiness, one feels compelled to add cream, milk, sugar, blue stuff, pink stuff, yellow stuff, clumps, lumps, drops, syrups, froth, or foam. Once ingested, it can upset the stomach and make finding a toilet your top priority. And, of course, withdrawal from long coffee binges causes dreadful headaches that no medicine can cure.

But if you can overcome the built-in “bleckh,” you’re on the road to becoming a true coffee connoisseur. Yes, to the initiated (read: “addicted”), its subjective benefits far outweigh its drawbacks. Coffee stimulates the body and the mind. It repels daily “blahs” and creates a feeling of community among consumers. A hot, steamy cup warms the heart on a frosty day; a cold, icy glass refreshes the soul. It wakes us up and keeps us alert. It gives us something to hold firmly in our hands and sip soothingly with our lips for peace and security in a rough and raunchy world.

Similarly, Bob Dylan fans often find themselves stuck in the same uncomfortable tension. Some have likened his earliest singing to Country-Western crooning, but perhaps “crowing” or “cawing” would be more accurate. I sometimes find myself struggling with a violent internal conflict after hearing a live recording, asking myself, “Should I applaud or be appalled?” Most recordings feel like basement jam sessions . . . and some of them were! Most lyrics make sense only in servings of two or three words at a time. Over the years of his career Dylan passed through genres like a tree passing through seasons: from Folk, to protest songs, to Rock, to ballads, to Gospel, to Blues.

But at the same time Dylan touches on something deep, something . . . real. It doesn’t always make sense, but sometimes that’s the point. Even some of the most puzzling lyrics strike the initiated Dylan fan as extremely profound. I have personally spent nights tossing and turning as my mind wrestled with lyrics from songs like “Jokerman” and “Tangled Up in Blue.” With time, patience, and a bit of squinting to blur the ragged edges, a devoted Dylanite can understand why he received a special Pulitzer Prize for his “profound impact on popular music and American culture, marked by lyrical compositions of extraordinary poetic power.”

This brings me now to the church. Like coffee and Dylan, the local church can churn our stomachs and offend our sensibilities. The apparent benefits we get from church viewed in the light of the manifold problems we experience in close communion with other saints can make us wonder whether it’s even worth the effort.

Like mining for silver or gold, receiving the rich blessings of ministry in Christ’s church often means getting our hands dirty, digging through thick dirt, blasting through solid rock, and putting in long hours of hard labor. It means enduring refining fires that hurt like Hell . . . and waiting patiently while the Jeweler fashions the raw material into a treasure of unparalleled beauty. The problem is, however, that none of us in this life will experience church in that final perfected state. Rather, in this world we are being dug up, sifted out, and purified, eagerly anticipating the day when His masterwork will be completed and put on display for all to see. God’s treasure is a work in progress, and while that work continues, church can be frustrating, painful, and downright disappointing.

But even in the midst of God’s transforming work of taking the raw material of the ghastly, grubby church and making her holy and beautiful, I can have confidence that God is working all things together for the good of His elect— you and me. The church is comprised of individual believers called together to experience the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit. Only in the church do we experience real life in Christ’s body on earth. Only in the church do we draw near to God corporately through worship, word, and sacraments. Only in the church do we have genuine opportunities to pray for one another, encourage one another in good works, and strengthen one another in faith, hope, and love. Only in the church can we take messy, mixed up people with sometimes nothing in common and unite them as a living testimony of God’s transforming grace.

Coffee, Dylan, and church. Yes, these three are acquired tastes. Like honest coffee-addicts and diehard Dylan fans, real Christians will admit that they have to overlook a lot of imperfections and overcome a lot of problems to appreciate the goodness, nay, greatness, of the church. These imperfections and problems are the ones we each bring to the community . . . and the ones God will ultimately set right or put to rest.

As I now travel the rough road of the Christian life in this rusted out sedan—descending again into the depths of church life to experience more excruciating “one-anothers”— the mystifying lyrics of Dylan’s song somehow comfort me:

One more cup of coffee for the road
One more cup of coffee ’fore I go
To the valley below.

i'm Distracted by me

2008-08-13T18:10:00.000-07:00

It has somehow become trendy to do away with the capital “I” for the first person pronoun in praise and worship songs, especially if the lyrics are projected on a screen. The goal, I suppose, is to reflect (or promote) personal humility. Apparently if we use a lowercase “i” we will be (or appear to be) more humble. But for me this practice produces the opposite effect. When projected song lyrics use a lowercase “i” my attention is actually drawn to the pronoun rather than turned away from it. It distracts me, and the thing that attracts my thoughts is the very thing the lowercase “i” is supposed to be deflecting!

ironic.

Look, nobody sees a capital “I” and thinks, “How self-centered! That person sure must think highly about himself to be capitalizing the first person singular pronoun!” No, the capitalization of “I” is simply a convention of the English language. To put things in perspective, the German language actually capitalizes all nouns in a sentence, but Germans aren’t thereby saying every person, place, thing, or idea deserves to be worshipped or honored.

I struggle to understand the motive behind using a lowercase “i,” wondering if it may, in fact, actually promote a prideful humility—“Look at how humble i am!” or “You people who use a capital ‘I’ sure are egocentric (unlike us, who use a lowercase ‘i’)!” On the other hand, a desire to be less self-absorbed and me-focused is a noble and needed corrective in contemporary worship. But songwriters and worship leaders who want to pursue this goal can do so in far more effective ways. Let me suggest two.

First, we could use less I and me and more Him and He. How about more song lyrics that just don’t mention “I” or “me” all that often? Instead, let’s tell the story about the Triune God, singing praises to the Father, confessing faith in Jesus Christ, and proclaiming the work of the Spirit. Keeping the focus on Him in our lyrics will remove the necessity to constantly sing about how I feel about God, what I gain from salvation, how I can personally benefit from my relationship with God. Songs that obsess with a lowercase “i” could avoid the problem by ejecting the pronoun entirely.

Second, we could use less I and Me and more us and we. Far too many of our contemporary worship songs are individualistic, emphasizing personal faith, personal problems, personal salvation, personal growth, personal eschatology. How difficult would it be to change some of the lyrics of these songs to a plural pronoun? Often the lyrics of worship songs communicate to the worshippers that they are simply a large mob of individuals engaged in private, personal communion with God. Let’s leave individual worship at home in our prayer closets and come to church to worship in community.

I must clarify, though, that nothing in the Bible suggests that using “I” and “we” in corporate worship is wrong. Many psalms are written in the first person singular. Many of our great hymns and worship choruses have endured as individual poems of devotion. The Christian faith clearly involves both individual and corporate aspects of prayer, study, and worship. To emphasize one over the other would create an unbiblical and unhealthy imbalance. But in a culture like ours, driven by thoroughgoing metheism, it might not hurt to rethink how and what we sing.