The House of Bread, like, rocks, man

Okay. So I was sitting at work today minding my own business when my brother called. I did not expect it to be him on the other side of the line. I have caller-ID at work; my brother lives in Wisconsin; the call was local (relax, Jonathan Edwards used more than one semi-colon every once in a while). Sure enough, there was R----, giving me his standard greeting.

I like R----. He is one of the best brothers I have, falling quite easily into the top three. Every year R---- comes up to J--- -----'s "House of Bread" Pastor's Conference. Every year he forgets to tell me when he's coming up. Then he calls me when he's already up with scarcely sixteen hours before he leaves, and wants me to do something with him. Well . . . actually . . . not really. He calls because he knows that if I find out that he is within 60 minutes of the Twin Cities and does not contact me in some way, shape, or form, that I will give him a stern lecture in the proper manifestations of brotherly love (that's phile-o for those of you following along in your Greek Bibles). So in an effort to dodge a guilt trip, he calls at the last minute, confesses that he is within striking distance, and apologizes for not calling me sooner. Yeah, right. I've heard that before.

R---- told me that his next session was a mere three and a half hours away. Meanwhile, I was hoping to work a little later tonight because I'm currently swamped. And the President was speaking at 8:00 p.m. I had my evening nicely planned. Things were a little tight, but they were nicely planned, all the same. Nevertheless, I decided to break my neat and tidy plans and go take him out to dinner.

So I drove down to get him. This ended up being an ordeal. Really, (and I am being serious here), I can handle downtown Minneapolis just fine, thank you. Except tonight. So I finally found the Hilton (it's all about getting on the right one-way street at the right time) about ten minutes after I said I would. I picked him up and took him up to the North part of Minneapolis. We stopped by one place, but the entrees starting with $19.95 lamb chops on the menu outside the door deterred us. So I decided to take him to Wendy's instead (this story is completely true). We both were in the mood for their Spicy Chicken sandwich (I love that thing). We ate, and talked about how conservatives love the "rule of law." A good time was had by all.

Then we headed back to the Hilton for R----'s evening session at the conference. I had no intention of going to the session, partly because I was not a paying participant, and mostly because I was still hoping to catch the State of the Union address (I ended up missing the best part, which appears to be the Cindy Sheehan debacle before it started). But not going to the conference does not mean that I could not reasonably stop by the conference book store. So we pulled up, R---- worked some magic with the bell-hop, I parked my van in their drive-up, yielded my keys and was soon started up the escalators to the third floor to book-buying glory (Bethlehem's bookstore has good prices and a pretty good selection). As I entered the third floor, where the conference was taking place, I was either running into or seeing a fundamentalist every ten feet. If you randomly threw up a water balloon, odds would be good that you'd hit a fundamentalist.

The book area was in the room adjacent to where the conference sessions were held. The room is very large with a large ceiling--bigger than many church auditoriums I have seen, perhaps as big as a half-gym. They have over a dozen tables with many books. Great amounts of money could be spent here: Puritans, Bibles, commentaries, studies, biographies, church history, audio sermons and really cheap prices on Piper's books. A young man with not much less restraint than I could have easily lost his control in that great hall. As I was busy methodically making my way through the place, I was beginning to sense that my time to depart was nearing. R----, who was still with me (he was actually off a couple tables over eyeing some other items), would soon need to be joining the rest of the men in the final evening session.

That's when I heard it . . . the sound of war.

The madness was beginning, the drums and the bass were beginning to warm up. A kind of singing followed. It sounded like someone was playing a worship CD in the next room--very loudly.

With the music's loudness ever increasing, I made my final selections and headed toward the exit with R----. As we walked by the room, the doors were open and the session was filled with men and women standing in front of their chairs. I could see up to the front of the room several yards away a choir on platform raisers. The choir was swaying to the rhythm. The people in the back did not look like they were involved. In fact, most people were just kind of staring. I was kind of doing the same thing--it's just I was walking while I was doing it. I could not see the people in front, but I assume they must have been the ones who were "into it." I was kind of doing the same thing--it's just I was walking while I was doing it.

I am at the point now where I just find these things funny. They are so far beyond anything related to the Christian tradition I know, I just laugh at it. And that's what I did tonight. I laughed. I was astonished. These things are good for me to see; they remind me that there are actually people out there who like this stuff. I said to my brother, "You know, this is what many called 'enthusiasm' during the first Great Awakening." I asked my brother if he liked the idea of a frenzy. I have no real idea how conservative he is on these matters, but I am not one who usually passes up a chance to state the point of the situation. I asked him what he thought of an unbridled frenzy, where one "worships" whether they like it or not.

I remember one of the few times I have had the pleasure of hearing J--- ----- "in person," he spoke on the necessity of loving God with our minds, and how we do it. I had a distinct disconnect as he concluded speaking--what about contemporary worship? How is that loving God with all your mind? The exalted poetry? The thought-provoking music? This is not to say that I am smarter than J--- ----- (okay, you can stop laughing now), or even that I love God with my mind in any way as well as he does, but that was an area where he seemed really inconsistent.

My brother and I parted ways before I descended the final escalator. It was good seeing him again. It was also good to remind myself why I am not planning on attending the "House of Bread" Pastor's Conference.

B is for Baloney

If somebody could tell me the difference between a Democrat and a Republican, I would really appreciate the clarification.

Thomas Tallis

This Naxos podcast features a brief biography of Thomas Tallis and samples his Spem in Alium. It's kind of funny because this old guy tells bad (and dry) jokes trying to make Tallis hip, but it is a half-way decent introduction.

Premoderns wonder

The common distinctions between the prevailing epochs of the thought-constructs of mankind are threefold: premodern, modern, and postmodern. Myron Penner summarizes:

“In premodernity rational thought begins with an attitude of wonder, and the basic orientation for philosophical reflection is characterized as an attempt to explain the perplexities of the universe (which cause one to wonder). . . . There is a sense of awe and mystery, and even gratitude, that accompanies premodern philosophical reflection” (Christianity and the Post Modern Turn [Grand Rapids: Brazos, 2005], 23). Incidently, Penner adds two other characteristics of premodern thought: no intrinsic antithesis between faith and reason, and the life of reason is a communal event. This radically changed from the Enlightenment. Penner explains, “The form of rational inquiry inherited from the premoderns becomes, in modernity, inherently suspect. . . . Thus doubt, not wonder, is the fundamentally rational posture, for doubt is the only means for a modern self to guarantee that he or she is not deceived” (24).

Richard Weaver is insightful on this principle of wonder. He says (in one of the most remarkable extra-Biblical paragraphs I have ever read),

“When we affirm that philosophy begins with wonder, we are affirming in effect that sentiment is anterior to reason. We do not undertake to reason about anything until we have been drawn to it by an affective interest. In the cultural life of man, therefore, the fact of paramount importance about anyone is his attitude toward the world. . . . We begin our other affirmations after a categorical statement that life and the world are to be cherished” (Ideas Have Consequences [Chicago: University of Chicago, 1948], 19).

There is the spirit of wonder shining through. This reminds me of another Weaver remark in his essay “Up from Liberalism”: “I found myself in decreasing sympathy with those social political doctrines erected upon the concept of a man-dominated universe and more and more inclined to believe with Walt Whitman that ‘a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.’”

And this reminds me of G. K. Chesterton, who wrote,

“The ordinary scientific man is strictly a sentimentalist. He is a sentimentalist in this essential sense, that he is soaked and swept away by mere associations. He has so often seen birds fly and lay eggs that he feels as if there must be some dreamy, tender connection between the two ideas, whereas there is none. A forlorn lover might be unable to dissociate the moon from lost love; so the materialist is unable to dissociate the moon from the tide. In both cases there is no connection, except that one has seen them together. A sentimentalist might shed tears at the smell of apple-blossom, because, by dark association of his own, it reminded him of his boyhood. So the materialist professor (though he conceals his tears) is yet a sentimentalist, because, by a dark association of his own, apple-blossoms remind him of apples. But the cool rationalist from fairyland does not see why, in the abstract, the apple tree should not grow crimson tulips; it sometimes does in his country” ("The Ethics of Elfland" in Orthodoxy).

Which in turn reminds me of a Latin hymn:

O magnum mysterium
et admirabile sacramentum,
ut animalia viderent
Dominum natum,
jacentem in præsepio.

O great mystery
And astonishing sacrament
That animals should see
The birth of the Lord
Lying in a manger.

Gonald on divorce

This passage comes from the excellent talk by Christopher Olaf Blum, available at ISI. The speech principally concerns the conservatism of Louis de Bonald, a foremost thinker in the French conservative tradition. You should listen to this speech, for conservatism should extend far past our politics, but into our church life as well. Bonald emphasized the importance of good work and the traditional mores that come from being tied to your agrarian community. He was also a politician who helped bring about a change from the legalization of no-fault divorce in France in the mid 19th century. Bonald said concerning divorce,

"When society has come to the point with the head-strong loves of the young: that inexstinguishable nourishment for the arts, have in countless ways become the concern of people of every age (women, old and young are obsessed with these things), when marital authority is the butt of jokes, when paternal authority thought to be tyrannical, when obscene books, displayed everywhere, sold or lended at so low a price they seem to be given away teach the child things that nature does not reveal to the grown man, when human nudity that distinctive characteristic of extreme barbarism, offers itself everywhere to our eyes in public places, and when the woman itself, clothed without being covered, has discovered the art of insulting modesty without offending good taste, when religion has lost all its terror, and when enlightened spouses see in their reciprocal infidelities only a secret to keep from one another or perhaps a secret to share, in times such as these, to tolerate divorce is to legalize adultery. It is to conspire with man's passions against his reason, and with man himself against society."

And to think that some conservative Christians are quickly willing to balk at this important issue of divorce in our society and churches. I say that we should instead be prophets in the midst of this dark land, as Bonald was in his, extolling the virtue of keeping our vows! In his talk, Blum has many memorable things to say, including this gem:

"The times are dark indeed, and in these times we conservatives especially need to cultivate the virtue of hope. . . . For marriage and family come from God, and in His providence God protects the good things that He ordains for our protection, our perfection, and our happiness. God is a conservative."

from John Donne's Holy Sonnets

Holy Sonnet XI

Spit on my face you Jewes, and pierce my side,
Buffet, and scoffe, scourge, and crucifie mee,
For I have sinn'd, and sinn'd, and onely hee,
Who could do no iniquitie, hath dyed:
But by my death can not be satisified
My sinnes, which passe the Jewes impiety:
They kill'd once an inglorious man, but I
Crucifie him daily, being now glorified;
Oh let mee then, his strange love still admire:
Kings pardon, but he bore our punishment.
And Jacob came cloth'd in vile harsh attire
But to supplant, and with gainfull intent:
God cloth'd himselfe in vile mans flesh, that so
Hee might be weake enough to suffer woe.

Way to be born, Mozart

I am sure that the blogosphere will be ringing today with the accolades of Mozart on this 250th anniversary of his birth. My original idea was to show how he was inferior to Bach. That, however, would be not be proper.

I like Mozart. Although I would not by any means consider myself a Mozart expert, I am convinced that he was a genius. Music was more than mere composition for Mozart; it was a language. Some argue that Mozart is "the quintessential composer of joy." I am not sure I agree with that. Often while listening to Mozart, I have the distinct feeling that the guy is pulling a fast one on me. Here is someone composing at the apex of the "classical period," and exploiting it as if it were a simple game. I hear this in his sublime 21st piano concerto, where the simply melody of the first movement plays dissonance against resolution like a man with a child's toy. The very famous 3rd movement of the Serenade for Winds (K. 361) begins with pulsing chords, subtly anticipating the entrance of that one single pure note lingering above the steady rhythm. The dissonance created is not resolved any time soon, but remains prolonged and drawn out for several measures, even after the held note moves onto the more developed melody. It's nearly as bad as Wagner. Even his more exuberant pieces sound like someone simply playing with the score, adding trivial turns and general frivolity. His "musical joke" in F Major is well known. Other examples of this phenomenon include his Divertimento in D Major (K 131), German Dance No. 3 in C Major, Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, even the Adagio from his Clarinet Concerto in A Major. I realize I am probably reading popular ideas I have of Mozart into the man's music. I am not sure the classical era achieved much higher heights, and it is this cultural situation in which Mozart found himself that redeems him to a great extent. Often one senses refinement and a kind of pure musically logical perfection, with the satisfaction that the music does exactly what it should do--more or less (every once in a while, you get the impression that the borrow chord he just threw in was a bit extravagant).

The most serious music Mozart composed with which I familiar was the infamous and nearly mythical Requiem Mass (you can hear a discussion and excerpts here). This is surely not frivolity. Here Mozart is at his post powerful, profound, and beautiful (with the possible exception of his fugues). But his portrayal of death is very grim. The musical tradition concerning death did not develop or evolve from Bach (who was greatly concerned with death), but seemingly lost its bearings. There is, it would appear, no hope (and I am not talking about the kind of denial seen in, for example, Faure's Requiem). It is far better for us to sit under the instruction of Bach or even Brahams concerning this matter of death than Mozart. Yet the music is still profound and meaningful, both beautiful and foreboding. Even the tempestuous Dies irae can teach us something of God's wrath.

So Mozart is for me an enigma; in the end, I have mixed feelings about the little master consumed with bowel movements and opera and sex (et. al.). Mozart's music serves well as a diversion and demonstration of musical genius, but I am skeptical of its value for piety or religious affection.

American Evangelicalism has issues (ChristianBibleStudies.com)

Do you find the Bible boring? Perhaps you would be like the Bible if a movie came along with it? Then look no further than Christianity Today's subsidiary ChristianBibleStudies.com. This noble company offers "dozens of ready-to-download, ready-to-use Bible studies on topics as relevant as today's headlines. From Islam to genetics, politics to spiritual growth, you'll find plenty of studies that will catch your interest." Best of all, their Bible studies "facilitate lively discussions and interaction." In other words, if you find something else more exciting than the Bible, perhaps you can appease the guilt you feel for neglecting the good book by getting the Bible in with that other thing you enjoy more! It's the best of both worlds! Who doesn't like to say that they're part of a Bible study? What's more pious than that? Can somebody shout "Glory"?!

But that is not all (this is where it gets really good). Not only can get your Bible slipped in with all sorts of other, more interesting topics, but one of those more interesting topics can be movies! They offer Bible studies that go hand in hand for teen movies (like "The Matrix" or "Napolean Dynamite"), family movies (like "Cheaper by the Dozen" and "Elf"), and, of course, for your more sophisticated Bible studies, for adult movies, too. They offer many selections, including "Spiderman" (1 and 2), "the Notebook," "Saving Private Ryan."

I could tell just by looking at this site that their best offering must be the Bible study that goes along with "Bruce Almighty," a noted pious "comedy that illustrates the power, presence, and goodness of God." Yes, I am sure that you thought that this flick starring the ever-so reverent Jim Carrey would make a pure mockery out of God. Not so, my fine Christian friend. First, this is obvious because it stars Morgan Freeman as God, and Morgan Freeman is not a homosexual (Jim Carrey becomes "God" for a bit, and I guess he doesn't like it or something). But, more importantly, now you can redeem this movie to be used in a Bible study that tackles such thorny issues as God's "injustice," "communication with God" (some Christians call that "prayer"), "God's active presence in our lives" (some theologians call that "process theology"), and "God's goodness" (that's where God lets you sin all you want). And you get to talk about all that while watching "Bruce Almighty"! Download this little gem of a "Bible study guide" and you can make up to 1,000 copies for your church! That's nearly enough for Sunday morning! Be careful about some of the young people in attendance (heh, heh, they will all be in children's church watching their Bible study based on "Mary Poppins"), "Bruce Almighty" is rated PG-13 (but only for language, sexual content, and some crude humor).

Nos Sobrii: The Idea of Fundamentalism

You must read Kevin Bauder's post for today.

Nos Sobrii: The Idea of Fundamentalism

A. W. Tozer on the Christian "mystic"

Tozer edited a book of Christian poetry he called The Christian Book of Mystical Verse (you really need to get this book; I know I've said that before, but this time I really mean it). In his introduction, he tries to explain why he used the word "mystic" in the title. He acknowledged that there were some called "mystics," who tended toward the "bizarre and prodigious"'; these kinds of individuals whose psychic disposition tended toward the occult should not be considered "mystics."

Tozer explains that a "mystic" is one who partakes in the "personal spiritual experience" which saints of Biblical and post-Biblical times enjoyed. He is speaking, he explains, of "the evangelical mystic who has been brought by the gospel into intimate fellowship with the Godhead" (vi). The source of theology for the mystic is "no less and no more" than what is found in the Bible; fellowship in the same commitment to truth that the reformers and Puritans enjoyed.

So how does the mystic differ from other Christians? Tozer answers, "Because [the mystic] experiences his faith down in the depths of his sentiment being while the other does not. He exists in a world of spiritual reality. He is quietly, deeply, and sometimes almost ecstatically aware of the Presence of God in his own nature and in the world around him. His religious experience is sometime elemental, as old as time and the creation. It is immediate acquaintance with God by union with the Eternal Son. It is to know that which passes knowledge" (vi).

Jonathan Edwards on Christian Liberty

"In the service of God, there is true liberty to do whatever tends most for our pleasure. A great and chief argument of Satan to dissuade men from the service of God is that it abridges of all manner of pleasure; it ties one up from seeking our own pleasure, but [we] must be obliged to be mopish and melancholy, and must never more pleasure and divert ourselves.

To this I answer that in the service of God there is full and free liberty to seek as much pleasure as we please, to enjoy the best kind of pleasure in the world, and as much of it as we possibly can obtain with all our might and main. There are no restraints.

Here, perhaps you may object and say how can this be: don't the law of God command us to mortify ourselves and to deny ourselves of sensual pleasures, to take up our cross, to take Christ's yoke upon us; will not allow us the full enjoyment of any worldly pleasure, [and] is not this a restraining of our liberty to do so?

This I answer. How can that be called an abridging our liberty which only restrains us from those pleasures that in a little time would turn into torments? Only from those that are honey in the mouth but a tormenting poison in the belly. Doth a father or mother abridge the child of liberty because he is not suffered to drink sweet poison? Is the child abridged of liberty because the mother will not suffer it to play with the flame of a candle?

Doth the law of God abridge us of liberty because it will not suffer us to run into hell, because he forbids those lusts that have a seed of hell in them? . . . Is it such an unreasonable thing in the law of God that it will not suffer us to be miserable when we desire it? All the liberty that we are denied by God's law is this: he will never grant us liberty by his law to be eternally miserable.

God don't restrain from true pleasure and satisfaction; yea, he obliges us to do that which will bring us to the highest pleasure and the greatest delights. He don't restrain from pleasure in this world; indeed, he restrains us from the beastly pleasure of drunkenness and of fornication: that is, God will not give men liberty to be beasts. But the noblest, the most excellent, the sweetest and most exalted pleasures, we may exercise ourselves in them as we please. We may recreate and delight ourselves in those sweet angelical pleasures without any restraint or prohibition. We may refresh ourselves with those delights and none will hinder us: our consciences will not restrain us; God will not hinder us; we may roll ourselves in these pleasure as much as we will."

- "Christian Liberty," in The Works of Jonathan Edwards vol. 10: Sermons and Discourses 1720-1723 (New Haven: Yale, 1992), 627-628.

The Word of Christ dwelling richly among the Church

Today I also posted an article on the Kara Ministries Weblog entitled "The Word of Christ dwelling richly among the church." Please stop by and join the conversation.

What the early church thought about movies

I know, I know. You're all sick of the movie discussion. There are movie discussions all over the web, and we just had a big movie discussion here. I hate beating dead horses, and there a lot of sites that do just that; yet consider this a one time indulgence of horse-beating. I told some folks that I wanted to do this, simply to show that drama and the church have not always been the bedfellows they are increasingly becoming in American evangelicalism. So here are some selections from the early church fathers about drama. The references at the end of each selection give you where you can find it in the Ante-Nicene Fathers.

"The utter ribaldry in pretentious tones and they act out indecent movements. Your daughters and your sons watch them giving lessons in adultery on the stage." Tatian (vol. 2, p 75)

"Neither can we watch the other spectacles [i.e., the theaters], lest our eyes and ears be defiled by participating in the utterances that are sung there. . . . And as for adultery, both in the case of men and of gods, whom they celebrate in elegant language for honors and prizes, this is made the subject of their dramas." - Theophilus (vol. 2, p. 115)

"What base action is there that is not exhibited in the theaters?" - Clement of Alexandria (vol. 2, p. 290)

"We renounce all your spectacles. . . . Among us nothing is ever said, seen, or heard that is anything in common with the madness of the circus, the immodesty of theater, the atrocities of the arena, or the useless exercise of the wrestling ground. Why do you take offense at us because we differ from you in regard to your pleasures?" - Tertullian (vol. 3, p. 46)

"We are evaluated by our character and modesty. Therefore, for good reason, we abstain from evil pleasures, and from your pomps and exhibitions. We know the origin in connection with religious things, and we condemn their mischievous enticements. . . . In the drama games, the madness is not less. Rather, the debauchery is more prolonged. For now a mime either expounds or acts out adulteries. . . . The same actor provokes your tears with pretended sufferings, with vain gestures and expressions." - Mark Minucius Felix (vol. 4, p. 196).

"Men who claim for themselves the authority of the Christian name are not ashamed . . . to find a defense in the heavenly Scriptures for the vain superstitions associated with the public exhibitions of the pagans. . . . They say, 'Where are there such Scriptures? Where are these things prohibited? On the contrary both Elijah was a charioteer of Israel and David himself danced before the ark. We read of the psalteries, horns trumpets, drums, pipes, harps, and choral dances. . . . Why, then, may not a faithful Christian man gaze upon that which the divine pen might write about? . . . However, the fact that Elijah was the charioteer of Israel is no defense for gazing upon the public games. For he did not run his race in a circus. And the fact that David led the dances in the presence of God is no sanction for the faithful Christians to occupy seats in the public theater. For David did not twist his limbs about in obscene movements." - Novatian (vol. 5, pp. 575-576).

"Now I will pass from this to the shameless corruption of the stage. I am ashamed to talk about the things that are said there. In fact, I am even ashamed to denounce the things that are done--the tricks of arguments, the cheating of adulterers, the immodesty of women, the indecent jokes. . . . People flock there to the public disgrace of the brothel, for the teaching of obscenity." - Novatian (vol. 5, p. 577).

"Things that have now ceased to be actual deeds of vice become examples. . . . Adultery is learned while it is seen. . . . The matron who has perhaps gone to the spectacle as a modest woman, returns from it immodest. What a degradation of morals it is! What a stimulus to abominable deeds, what food for vice!" - Cyprian (vol. 5. p. 277).

"And I am inclined to think that the corrupting influence of the stage is still more contaminating. For the subject of comedies are the dishonouring of virgins, or the loves of harlots; and the more eloquent they are who have composed the accounts of these disgraceful actions, the more do they persuade by the elegance of their sentiments; and harmonious and polished verses more readily remain fixed in the memory of the hearers. In like manner, the stories of the tragedians place before the eyes the parricides and incests of wicked kings, and represent tragic crimes. And what other effect do the immodest gestures of the players produce, but both teach and excite lusts? whose enervated bodies, rendered effeminate after the gait and dress of women, imitate unchaste women by their disgraceful gestures. Why should I speak of the actors of mimes, who hold forth instruction in corrupting influences, who teach adulteries while they feign them, and by pretended actions train to those which are true? What can young men or virgins do, when they see that these things are practised without shame, and willingly beheld by all?" - Lactantius (vol. 7, p. 187)

If all these were not enough, consider the entire book De Spectaculis by Tertullian, where he lays into many common Roman entertainments. He knows that many heathen want to argue that "human enjoyment, by any of our pleasures" is pleasing to God. Yet, Tertullian wants to prove that "these things are not consistent with true religion and true obedience to the true God. This work, like the other citations that I have made here, are remarkably contemporary, even today, addressing many of the same allurments. Consider, for instance, the argument commonly made by some that the Bible never forbids drama:

"How vain, then—nay, how desperate—is the reasoning of persons, who, just because they decline to lose a pleasure, hold out that we cannot point to the specific words or the very place where this abstinence is mentioned, and where the servants of God are directly forbidden to have anything to do with such assemblies!"

Or consider this remark on the consistent witness of believers:

"Do we not abjure and rescind that baptismal pledge, when we cease to bear its testimony? Does it then remain for us to apply to the heathen themselves. Let them tell us, then, whether it is right in Christians to frequent the show. Why, the rejection of these amusements is the chief sign to them that a man has adopted the Christian faith. If any one, then, puts away the faith’s distinctive badge, he is plainly guilty of denying it. What hope can you possibly retain in regard to a man who does that? When you go over to the enemy’s camp, you throw down your arms, desert the standards and the oath of allegiance to your chief: you cast in your lot for life or death with your new friends."

Perhaps it seems to us sophisticated American evangelicals that such remarks (strangely akin to the now antiquated "fundamentalism") is a "little over the top." But may we not dismiss such statements in such a cavalier manner! Tertullian says,

Are we not, in like manner, enjoined to put away from us all immodesty? On this ground, again, we are excluded from the theatre, which is immodesty’s own peculiar abode, where nothing is in repute but what elsewhere is disreputable. . . . The very harlots, too, victims of the public lust, are brought upon the stage, . . . I say nothing about other matters, which it were good to hide away in their own darkness and their own gloomy caves, lest they should stain the light of day. Let the Senate, let all ranks, blush for very shame! . . . But if we ought to abominate all that is immodest, on what ground is it right to hear what we must not speak? For all licentiousness of speech, nay, every idle word, is condemned by God. Why, in the same way, is it right to look on what it is disgraceful to do? How is it that the things which defile a man in going out of his mouth, are not regarded as doing so when they go in at his eyes and ears—when eyes and ears are the immediate attendants on the spirit—and that can never be pure whose servants-in-waiting are impure? You have the theatre forbidden, then, in the forbidding of immodesty."

Augustine, too, had very little good to say about the theater. In book 3 (chapter 2) of his Confessions, he said,

Let us, however, love the sorrows of others. But let us beware of uncleanness, O my soul, under the protection of my God, the God of our fathers, who is to be praised and exalted--let us beware of uncleanness. I have not yet ceased to have compassion. But in those days in the theaters I sympathized with lovers when they sinfully enjoyed one another, although this was done fictitiously in the play. And when they lost one another, I grieved with them, as if pitying them, and yet had delight in both grief and pity. Nowadays I feel much more pity for one who delights in his wickedness than for one who counts himself unfortunate because he fails to obtain some harmful pleasure or suffers the loss of some miserable felicity. This, surely, is the truer compassion, but the sorrow I feel in it has no delight for me. For although he that grieves with the unhappy should be commended for his work of love, yet he who has the power of real compassion would still prefer that there be nothing for him to grieve about. For if good will were to be ill will--which it cannot be--only then could he who is truly and sincerely compassionate wish that there were some unhappy people so that he might commiserate them. Some grief may then be justified, but none of it loved. Thus it is that thou dost act, O Lord God, for thou lovest souls far more purely than we do and art more incorruptibly compassionate, although thou art never wounded by any sorrow. Now "who is sufficient for these things?"

But at that time, in my wretchedness, I loved to grieve; and I sought for things to grieve about. In another man's misery, even though it was feigned and impersonated on the stage, that performance of the actor pleased me best and attracted me most powerfully which moved me to tears. What marvel then was it that an unhappy sheep, straying from thy flock and impatient of thy care, I became infected with a foul disease? This is the reason for my love of griefs: that they would not probe into me too deeply (for I did not love to suffer in myself such things as I loved to look at), and they were the sort of grief which came from hearing those fictions, which affected only the surface of my emotion. Still, just as if they had been poisoned fingernails, their scratching was followed by inflammation, swelling, putrefaction, and corruption. Such was my life! But was it life, O my God?

I know that the following men should not be considered "the early church," but let me add some contemporary remarks about drama. More recently, drama has been condemned by the likes of William Law and A. W. Tozer. In his Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life, William Law says,

Instead of the vain, immodest entertainment of plays and operas, I have taught you to delight in visiting the sick and poor. What music, and dancing, and diversions are to many in the world, that prayers and devotions, and psalms, are to you. Your hands have not been employed in plaiting the hair, and adorning your persons; but in making clothes for the naked. You have not wasted your fortunes upon yourselves, but have added your labour to them, to do more good to other people.

A. W. Tozer believes that the motion picture itself is a neutral medium, but that motion pictures portraying drama is wrong. In his essay, The Menace of the Religious Movie (You need to get this. You can buy it here--the entire book is well worth owning), he argues that the gospel ought never be communicated in a motion picture (I can think of some embroiled in current "religious movie" controversies that should spend some quiet time in Tozer). Part of his prohibition stems from his belief that drama is itself illegitimate. He says that acting is "a violation of sincerity." Tozer says,

"In order to produce a religious movie someone must, for the time, disguise his individuality and simulate that of another. His actions must be judged fraudulent, and those who watch them must with approval share in the fraud" (195).

Later he adds, "History will show that no spiritual advance, no revival, no upsurge of spiritual life has ever been associated with acting in any form. The Holy Spirit never honors pretense" (197). He goes so far to say that,

"[The movie] is a medium in itself wholly foreign to the Bible and altogether unauthorized therein. It is play acting--just that, and nothing more. . . . The printing press is neutral; so is the radio; so is the camera. They may be used for good or bad purposes at the will of the user. But play acting is bad in its essence in that it involves the simulation of emotions not actually felt. It embodies a gross moral contradiction in that it calls a lie to the service of truth" (199).

I am sure I am leaving out some key Christian figures and their remarks on drama. The point here has not been to be comprehensive, but to provoke our thinking. To be sure, fundamentalism has not always articulated their opposition to movies in the best terms. Fundamentalism has also commonly showed an inconsistency in their approach to movies and drama, as the most hallowed universities and institutions have given a blessing to the medium for religious purposes. But this should not lead us to an outright rejection of the sentiment. Let us hear some others address the subject. The men I have cited are just that--men. But they bring before us a perspective nearly entirely forgotten in 21st century American evangelicalism. We would do well to listen and thoughtfully consider what they say.

Religious Affections Radio officially launches

Scott Aniol received a donation to his website last year and, instead of buying his long desired Ipod, decided to use it to start an internet radio station, Religious Affections Radio.

I am very happy that Scott has started this station. I have wanted to do something like this for quite some time, so I asked him if I could help, and I was able to help him get the station going.

The station is nothing elaborate--simply streaming music. All of it is religious, and varies from J. S. Bach to King's College Choir to Soundforth (I really gave Scott a hard time about putting "BJ stuff" on the station, and tried everything I could to persuade him otherwise). The station is run through Live365, which means that you will either have to subscribe to what they call their "VIP membership," or put up with really annoying commercials. The advantage to membership is that you will then have access to all the Live365 stations without commercials. The disadvantage is that it costs some money.

We have been pretty picky with most of the music selected for this station. The most "edgy" we get is some John Rutter and the most corny we get is some Soundforth, though all of the selections from both of these sources were made critically. Unfortunately, we do not have much sacred music sung in foreign languages, which eliminates much of the greatest sacred music written for the Western church.

Nevertheless, I have been listening quite a bit to the new station, and enjoy it a great deal. For someone who listens regularly to Internet audio, this station will be a welcome respite. Serious sacred music was very hard to find in this format with very poor offerings available. If you enjoy the station, I would encourage your donating to it. I know that this will not be free for Scott to operate, and the station's existence may very well depend on small donations from its few listeners.

I Love My God

by Jeanne Marie de la Motte-Guyon (1648-1717), translator unknown, taken from The Christian Book of Mystical Verse, edited by A. W. Tozer (Harrisburg, PA: Christian Publications, 1963).

I love my God, but with no love of mine,
For I have none to give;
I love thee, Lord; but all the love is Thine,
For by thy life I live.
I am as nothing, and rejoice to be
Emptied, and lost, and swallowed up in Thee.

Thou, Lord, alone, art all Thy children need,
And there is none beside;
From Thee the streams of blessedness proceed
In Thee the blest abide, --
Fountain of life, and all-abounding grace,
Our source, our center, and our dwelling place.

On morality and the limits of Scripture (Part 2)

I am concerned with these two posts to establish both the limits of Scripture and the truthfulness of our conclusions we make outside of Scripture. On Thursday, I limply tried to establish that there are limits to the questions we should ask of Scripture. For example, we do not ask the Bible how we should lose weight, for the Bible does not intend to address that question. Moreover, to assume that the Bible's lack of a condemnation towards some activity you happen to enjoy justifies the activity is an argument from silence, for the Bible does not commend that activity to you either. This is both a faulty understanding of the nature of the Scriptures (since it is not a comprehensive legal guide to the Christian life) and a misunderstanding of what is good. We are to prove what is good and what is evil, I insisted.

But what about the truthfulness of what we prove? As I asked in part 1, "Do we impose a "second book of authority" when we insist that there is truth outside yet derived (secondarily) from the Scriptures? To be sure, the Bible must play a role in determining the morality of our actions. But what about when it does not explicitly address our cultural particulars? Can we be sure? Can we assume that our conclusions are truth?"

The contemporary world has become global, and so we are met with what seems to be myriad ways of looking at reality. To be certain, our exposure to other cultures and other cultural expressions should give us pause before blindly accepting the validity of our own. But this is not to say that every individual or culture reigns sovereign. I believe that we must reject cultural relativity.

But the point here is not to attack cultural relativity (perhaps on a different day I will try to climb that mountain), but to offer that truth outside the Scriptures exists--that we can reach certain conclusions and that our convictions about things we have concluded from the Bible are true. My favorite proof of extra-Biblical truth is the Greek word homoousios.

Theology is closely related to ethics in a number of ways. For conservative evangelicals, theology begins with the foundational things you have been taught in Sunday school and by the sermons you heard at church (or by watching Sesame Street or wherever else you got your theology), which is then (hopefully) corrected or substantiated by the Bible. The evangelical method for determining ethics closely resembles our method for theology. They are both "Biblically based." But ethics, like theology, is in large part a "second order" discipline. Every evangelical says he believes the Bible. But the immediate question following is What does the Bible say? By the way, this is in large part why creeds (a.k.a. "doctrinal statements) and church covenants are so important. When someone adheres to a summary of doctrine (creed) or practice (church covenant), we better know what he believes. We can compare his doctrine and practice with our own. We can see where his differs from ours and where they are alike.

Creeds and covenants are not first order sources for theology, The Holy Scripture is. I view theology as primarily teaching--taking the Scriptures and communicating it to the church. Again, theology is a second-order discipline, whereby the Scriptures are taken and applied to contradict certain false teaching (negatively) or to articulate and summarize and systematize the Christian teachings found in the Bible (positively).

When we use the "rapture," we are using it with reference to an understanding of the Bible's teaching concerning a particular point of eschatology. When we use the word "inerrancy," we are again making theological deductions about the Bible based on its own teachings. The Bible never uses the word "rapture" or "inerrancy." Although the Scriptures teach inerrancy, nowhere do they give a nice tidy "doctrine of inerrancy." Yet we must believe the truth of inerrancy. When we confront what seem to be problem texts that do not neatly mesh with our system, we can change our pre-existing system, but we also sometimes bring our current system to bear on the text, which in turn informs how we understand the way that text coheres with our system. Of course, the goal for every conservative evangelical theology is conformity with the text of Scripture.

So it goes with the homoousios. What does homoousios mean? This is a Greek word that was crucial to the early church's articulation of the Trinity. Roughly, it means "the same essence," and was spoken of Christ against the moderate sect's similar word, homoiousios "the similar or like essence." Jesus Christ is of the same essence or nature or substance as the Father. As the Nicene Creed says,

We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
the only Son of God,
eternally begotten of the Father,
God from God, Light from Light,
true God from true God,
begotten, not made,
of one Being with the Father.

If Christ is of a different substance, then he is not truly God. If he was made by the Father (and not eternally begotten), then he is of a different substance. This word demonstrates that we can and should make theological pronouncements that not explicitly found in the Scriptures. We believe the historic doctrine of the Trinity, and declare that it is the true teaching of the Scriptures, even though some of their words and summaries, like homoousios, are not explicitly found in Scripture. In a certain sense, they are as true as the Scriptures, because they accurately summarize the teaching of the Scriptures. If they were not the correct teaching of Scriptures, we should reject them. Yet if they are, then we should believe them with all our heart. Christian churches throughout history have accepted the Nicene creed as the orthodox teaching of the Bible. In fact, this Trinitarian teaching was to a certain extent a reaction to teaching which was not Biblical, namely that of Arius and others.

So we believe the truthfulness of certain things that are outside the explicit address of Scriptures. And just as this is true for theology, it is true in the realm of ethics and morality. For example, I believe that abortion is immoral. How do I know this? In part from my understanding of Scriptures, and (in part) from my understanding of what abortion is. My having a correct understanding of abortion is essential to my making accurate conclusions about the morality of it.

This is not to say that we somehow hold the conceived truthfulness of our theology or our moral conclusions like some immovable stalwart. Humility is essential, for if we recognize that it is possible for other persons to err (since they don't agree with us!), then we should recognize that it is possible for us to error. Particularly when we determining ethics and morality, we should always be studying, always "proving" (1 Thess 5:21-22), and always seeking to better understand ourselves and the nature of things. This can only be done when we fuse the horizons of different "cultures" (those who hold differing theologies, mores, and ethics) with our own. Hopefully their eyes will help confirm what we already understand, but also give us a perspective as to the shortcomings of our own milieu. This is what Jonathan Edwards and Augustine and Calvin and Anslem and the Cappadocian fathers and Bach (!) have done for me--they have shown me a different kind of Christian world, one that critiques my own American fundamentalist/evangelical setting (while I am inevitably critiquing theirs).

All this is to say that when we are convinced that some doctrine or practice is the Biblical teaching on the subject, we should believe it to be truth. We are not preaching an easy road to truth, yet we are condemning the philosophies propagated that any "second order" theology or ethics are in the end unknowable. Just because there is some degree of agnosticism does not mean that we cannot know. Nor should we say that just because an issue is not taught explicitly in the Bible that it is not as important, or somehow relegated as an issue simply of "Christian liberty." In my view, homoousios and inerrancy and abortion are not matters of "Christian liberty." They are in essence the Biblical teaching on their respective subjects. There are other second order teachings and practices (the rapture, church government, smoking, whether or not someone has cable) that similarly represent the Biblical teaching, but may not be as crucial to the faith as these other doctrines. Nevertheless, they are still important, and equally represent the Bible's teaching on that given subject as we understand it. Although my point is not to discuss Christian liberty, let me say that the main principle of Christian liberty seems to be how we treat brothers who are prone to building their Christian ethics simply off the influence of others, simply taking as their own what other people embrace or shun. Finally, weighing the importance of the doctrines is very important in this whole discussion. Paul says eating meat should not be judged (because God will judge that person), but he calls the person who neglects to care for his widowed mother "worse than an infidel."

In conclusion, I have tried to establish that both theology and mores are both second-order disciplines, summarizing the truths of and deriving their truthfulness from the Word of God. I believe that we should consider these teachings and practices to be the truth though with humility. Moreover, we should not banish all such "second-order" statements and beliefs to the realm of relativity simply because the Bible does not teach them explicitly. Thus our Christian life should be lived understanding the tension between the limits of what the Bible explicitly teaches and the truthfulness of our conclusions of how we apply what it does teach to our faith and practice.

On morality and the limits of Scripture (Part 1)

While the Bible is the sufficient word of God, we should not try to make it address every question life poses. Lately I have been more and more encountering those who try to make the Bible speak to things it does not. But not only this, a more prominent idea being thrown around out there is a kind of quasi-relativism, where if the Bible does not speak to the issue, we can not and should not make with any certainty any statements whatsoever.

First, this is a logical error, and to a certain extent, it shows the epistemological crisis within many evangelical circles. The Bible has been (correctly) the ground for the all the doctrines of the faith. It is our primary source for all the orthodox teachings of the Christian faith (more on this later). But this emphasis has resulted in no small amount of confusion concerning the nature of truth outside the revealed Word of God.

The truth is that there is truth that man can apprehend outside the Scriptures. In fact, the Bible in several places tells us to work at determining this truth. 1 Thessalonians 5:21-22 says, "But test everything; hold fast what is good, abstain from every form of evil." Some believe that this refers to the prophesying mentioned in verse 20, but I do not believe so. The conjunction could be connecting the previous idea, but it could also be a mere casual addition of a new element to the list. The point, I believe, is that Paul wanted the Thessalonian church to prove what is right and what is wrong. I have written more on the importance of this theme in the New Testament elsewhere. When these things are proven, they are true.

This is not to say that proving what is right and wrong in certain situations is always easy. Nor I am saying that we always know "without a shadow of a doubt" that what we have proven is the Truth. Sometimes there is a great deal of doubt. If we doubt, we should not partake in the activity. Paul makes that much clear in Romans 14:23. The "high road" is better in these situations.

Therefore when someone asks for a "chapter and verse" to say that Christian contemporary worship is anti-worship, they error on a couple fronts. First, they bring an inconsistent standard into the conversation. I might as well ask them to give a "chapter and verse" that contemporary worship is good worship.

But more importantly, they misunderstand the nature of Scriptures. The Bible is not a rule book intending to give regulations for every possible activity that will come up. In fact, the Bible itself tells us to prove the rightness or wrongness of things.

As I said, usually in debates concerning whether questions are right or wrong, the test demanded is "what is wrong with it?" But the underlying assumption here is as dangerous as the absurdity of the question. For to ask "what is wrong with it" assumes that the adherent of the activity believes the practice to be good. This only leads to an equally important question: why is it good? I believe that we should be working as best we know how to prove not only the immorality of actions, but the morality of actions as well. We should not only be able to show why what we do not do is evil, but why what we do do is good.

I would like to return, though, to the question of the truthfulness of our conclusions. Do we impose a "second book of authority" when we insist that there is truth outside yet derived (secondarily) from the Scriptures? To be sure, the Bible must play a role in determining the morality of our actions. But what about when it does not explicitly address our cultural particulars? Can we be sure? Can we assume that our conclusions are truth?

I will conclude with these questions tomorrow.

Richard Weaver agrees with me

After posting Tuesday's piece, "Christian goes to the movies," I found this quote. It is rather comforting when you find that someone like Richard Weaver agrees with you, particularly when you made the statements before referencing him. What this actually shows is that he is probably the source of the original "seed thought" for the post, though I read him a few years ago. This remark from Ideas Have Consequences (Chicago: University of Chicago, 1948) must have incubated in my mind since I first read it:

"We need not speak of the enormous influence of this synoptic depiction of life [the motion picture] upon children and adolescents. That is a point concerning reticences and proprieties toward different classes of persons; our interest is rather in the deleterious effects of movie-going upon even adult mentalities that find satisfaction in it. That the public as a whole misses the issue of the motion picture's influence can be seen from its attitude toward censorship. For what the public is reconciled to seeing censored are just the little breaches of decorum which fret bourgeois respectability and sense of security. The truth is that these are so far removed from the heart of the problem that they could well be ignored. The thing that needs to be censored is not the length of kisses [!] but the egotistic, selfish, and self-flaunting hero; not the relative proportion of undraped breast but the flippant, vacuous-minded, and also egotistic heroine. Let us not worry about the jokes of dubious propriety; let us rather object to the whole story, with it complacent assertion of the virtues of materialist society. We are speaking here, of course, from the fundamental point of view. A censorship of the movies, to be worthy of the name, would mean a complete reinterpretation of most of their themes, for the belief which underlie virtually every movie story are precisely the ones which are hurrying us on to perdition. The entire globe is becoming imbued with the notion that there is something normative about the insane sort of life lived in New York and Hollywood--even after that life has been exaggerated to suit the morbid appetite of the thrill seeker" (100-101).

Christian goes to the movies

I am painfully aware that the current fad among young evangelicals and, more and more, among young fundamentalists is not to criticize movies. How doth the argument typically go? Something about how any protest against movies is pure legalism or whatnot. After all, even Touchstone and World magazines have movie reviews! And what is the difference between going to a movie theater and watching a DVD/VHS movie in your living room? Well, actually that is a good question for those who insist on a dichotomy between the two. But I typically resist such dialectical revolutions of cultural norms. Anyway, I am quickly digressing into incoherence.

My main grievance is the naive (pardon my French) approach of many Christians to the movies. I am now speaking of the test of the Great Three exerted by Christians upon movies:

1. No female nudity or sex.
2. No swearing--er, at least no "using the Lord's name in vain."
3. "Not too bad" violence.

Yes, there they are--the "holy three" of movie standards. Yes, good Christian, if the movie passes this great and reverent test, the movie is good. Of course, if the movie is "really, really good," then we can perhaps ignore one or two of these precious (and, oh, so legalistic) standards. As if these are the only elements of danger for believers! What about irreverence or the idea of tolerance? What about sentimentalism (loving the wrong things too much) or brutality (loving the right things too little)? Are these elements not present in the vast majority of the films being belched up by the world? Let me let you in on a secret: movies do not become good simply because you have "Curse-Free TV."

O, yes, I hear the objection: but after you watch it, then you can "talk about" those negative elements. Sure. Whatever. Talk all you want. Which is more persuasive: your debunking all these ideas by "talking through them" or your entering into the story and its supporting world-view with your whole person, allowing the art to communicate to you as it is intended while you sit there passively taking it all in? Perhaps I am proposing a false dilemma; but my point here is rhetorical. Why do we believe that we can escape this? Perhaps we really do not understand the power of movies.

You see, most Christians really worship on Friday night. That is the apex of their week. They have given themselves over to the working the entire week, probably working too much (you have to make a living, don't you know), and so they finally get to "unwind" and "take in a good movie." This is their escape. This is their joy and delight. Movies are their way of worshiping the Entertainment Deity. And now they poor themselves into their rite, complete with libations (soda pop) and meal offerings (popcorn). And they completely let go. This, after all, is the real power of movies. For one to watch a movie as it was intended to be watched, one must give himself over to it, and allow himself to be swept away. He must enter into the lie. The greater the lie, the greater the movie. And how do we know the movie is good and "harmless"? As long as it meets the standard of the Almighty Three. And here, while our guard is most down (we already know it's a good movie--remember the test?), the world comes in unawares and subtly convinces us of its moorings. You see, "the Great Three" is really simply a surface danger; I believe the real danger lies below, and, because it comes in so subtly, Christians are more prone to fall prey to these underhanded elements. To a certain extent, I am not even talking about anti-Christian themes like adultery or gambling. I am speaking about world-views. The real danger of movies is not at looking at a naked woman, but the redefinition of modesty. The greater danger of movies is not the actors' taking "the Lord's name in vain," but arrogant disbelief. The violence of movies is nothing compared with the idea that it is cruel to execute a murderer. These things are more dangerous, because they are more subtly present. And we wonder why the church is worldly.

The American Evangelical-Patriotic-Hallmark Church Calendar

Yesterday my church honored "Sanctity of Life Sunday." The sermon and Scripture reading were both about the importance of life in the face of abortion in the United States. It appears that my church did it a week early. I have no idea who invented "Sanctity of Life Sunday," determined its date, or anything, which is part of the reason why I am struck that we observe this holy day. I do not necessarily have a problem with honoring "Sanctity of Life Sunday," but it makes me to wonder what causes churches like mine from shunning so much of the church calendar. When I say this, I hope the reader will not take this as some kind of rant against my church's leadership; I love my pastors and pray for them.

The circles I run in (not just my church) seem to be rather inconsistent with respect to the observance of holy days. While days like Trinity Sunday, Lent, Maundy Thursday, Epiphany, and so forth are not observed, other days like Mother's Day, the Fourth of July, Christmas, and so forth are observed. How did we go to the point where we embraced this "American Evangelical-Patriotic-Hallmark Church Calendar"? We have days like "Pastors' Day," but we do essentially nothing on Reformation Sunday.

I suppose that there could be at least two responses to my remarks. One may want to defend the status quo, but to this individual I would simply observe that it seems somewhat inconsistent to embrace an ad hoc calendar fusing the sacred and the secular, while excluding the calendar of traditional Christianity.

Another response would be to eliminate holy days altogether. To a certain extent, I am sympathetic to this approach. Pauls says in Col 2:16-17, "Therefore let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink, or with regard to a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath. These are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ" (ESV). Unless I am reading this passage wrong, I would say that this is a warning against mandating any observance of holy days. We should not feel guilty if we decide not to observe a particular holy day. Yet, at the same time, I would encourage us to consider adopting more of the church calendar (Kevin Bauder also argues for this here). The principle is this: someone will be planning your church's liturgy on any given Sunday. This person is a man (not God). Thus, we may conclude that the origin of your liturgy is from man. Likewise, certain men developed the church calendar over time. It is difficult to see why implementation of the church calendar (which has been used by some Baptists, by the way) is in itself evil. There may be certain circumstances wherein your church may shy away from the church calendar (like a large converted Catholic contingency), but by and large it serves to help the local church reflect on the life of Jesus Christ and certain key doctrines and figures throughout the year in a systematic way. The church calendar also seems to have with it a large amount of Scripture reading for the public worship, and most fundamentalist churches with which I am familiar could use a good bit more of that as well.

My God, My God, And Can it Be

This hymn is by Fredrick W. Faber. I know it to the tune NEWBURY from Hymns Ancient & Modern: Shortened Music Edition (London: William Clowes and Sons, 1939).

My God! my God! and can it be
That I should sin so lightly now,
And think no more of evil thoughts
Than of the wind that waves the bough?

I sin, and Heav’n and earth go round,
As if no dreadful deed were done;
As if Thy blood had never flowed
To hinder sin, or to atone.

I walk the earth with lightsome step,
Smile at the sunshine, breathe the air,
Do my own will, nor ever heed
Gethsemane and Thy long prayer.

Shall it be always thus, O Lord?
Wilt Thou not work this hour in me
The grace Thy Passion merited,
Hatred of self, and love of Thee!

O by the pains of Thy pure love,
Grant me the gift of holy fear;
And by Thy woes and bloody sweat
Wash Thou my guilty conscience clear!

Ever when tempted, make me see,
Beneath the olives’ moon pierced shade,
My God, alone, outstretched, and bruised,
And bleeding, on the earth He made;

And make me feel it was my sin,
As though no other sins there were,
That was to Him Who bears the world
A load that He could scarcely bear.

The problem of evil

Every once in a while you attempt to articulate something and fail so miserably that you wonder if anything is going on in your head. Usually these displays of cogitive impotence are when the stakes are highest. Thus when you confront theologians (who do call themselves Augustinian but seem to resemble Arminians) who do not want to acknowledge that God has for his glory ordained by his providence the sin committed by moral agents, the reason given for embracing this doctrine being that you would not want to tell grieving people of this truth, you get especially frustrated with your inability to dice this kind of theology up. So you go read Calvin, and everything gets better very quickly. Order and beauty and the glory of God are restored to the world; providence is displayed, and you are invigorated to go and preach the good tidings of God's sovereignty to all people--or until you fail again.

Here are some conclusions I have reaffirmed:
1) God is sovereign in the world. If God has by his own pleasure seen fit to orchestrate and cause the death of his Son (Acts 2:23; 4:27), the world's ultimate evil, why should we shy away from attributing lesser evils to him? Not only is the crucifixion of Jesus attributed to the foreordination of God, but the Bible attributes countless such instances. I found that Wayne Grudem laid out all such passages in a very helpful fashion on pp 323-27. Although Job recognized that God is the ultimate cause for these things, for him "to blame God for evil that he had brought about through secondary agents would have been to sin. Job does not do this, Scripture never does this, and neither should we" (Systematic Theology [Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1994], 325).

2) The relationship between these moral actions we commit for which we are responsible and the sovereign providence of God is inscrutable. We affirm that we are responsible for our willing actions, and that we are guilty for our sin, and we affirm that God is sovereign.

3) God uses all things for his glory. I am not sure how someone can take any comfort in a universe over which God is not providentially controlling all events. What emotional duress is alleviated by our denying God's involvement? If God is not responsible for the evil actions of men, why doesn't he stop them from committing the act when he sees it coming? Why does he still allow it to happen? How does God's merely allowing men to act "freely" better solve the problem of theodicy? In the framework I am advocating, God is ordaining the event to be done for his glory. In the other framework, God is allowing the men to act "freely," and knows that the event will be done (with some kind of "middle knowledge"), but does nothing to stop it. To say that God caused the death of a loved one gives us hope in this One we trust and love that he is control, and has worked all things for the good them that love him and are called according to his purpose.

4) God hardens men by removing the influences (i.e., common grace, the Spirit) that were preventing them from sinning to great extents. God's act of hardening is not a positive act. Jonathan Edwards articulates this well:

He hath mercy on some, and hardeneth others. When God is here spoken of as hardening some of the children of men, it is not to be understood that God by any positive efficiency hardens any man's heart. There is no positive act in God, as though he put forth any power to harden the heart. To suppose any such thing would be to make God the immediate author of sin. God is said to harden men in two ways: by withholding the powerful influences of his Spirit, without which their hearts will remain hardened, and grow harder and harder; in this sense he hardens them, as he leaves them to hardness. And again, by ordering those things in his providence which, through the abuse of their corruption, become the occasion of their hardening. Thus God sends his word and ordinances to men which, by their abuse, prove an occasion of their hardening ("God's Sovereignty in the Salvation of Men").

5) If man's "free will" were really the ultimate determination of the events of the world, they would be in control, not God. Calvin says, "Because we know that the universe was established especially for the sake of mankind, we ought to look for this purpose in his goverance also" (Institutes I.XVI.6 [LCC XX; John T. McNeill, ed.; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1960], 204). In other words, if nature is determined by God (and we must affirm this, despite the protests of science), why not man as well, since the world was made for him? Calvin continues, "Let them now say that man is moved by God according to the inclination of his nature, but that he himself turns that motion whither he pleases. Nay, if that were truly said, the free choice of his ways would be in man's control" (Ibid, 204). He cites Jer 10:23, Prov 20:24 and Prov 16:9 as examples of the ways of man "choice and determination" being ascribed to God.

6) We should still pray and plan and take precautions. Calvin cites Prov 16:9, "Man's heart plans his way, but the Lord will direct his steps," and again helps us understand this phenomenon:

"This means that we are not at all hindered by God's eternal decrees either from looking ahead for ourselves or from putting all our affairs in order, but always in submission to his will. The reason is obvious. For he who has set the limits to our life has at the same time entrusted to us its care; he has provided means and helps to preserve it; he has also made us able to foresee dangers; that they may not overwhelm us unaware, he has offered precautions and remedies" (Institutes I.XVII.4, 216).

Finally, I offer one more summary articulation of the doctrine by Calvin to conclude these thoughts:

"We do not, with the Stoics, contrive a necessity out of the perpetual connection and intimately related series of causes, which is contained in nature; but we make God the ruler and governor of all things, who in accordance with his wisdom has from the farthest limit of eternity decreed what he was going to do, and now by his might carries out what he has decreed. From this we declare that not only heaven and earth and the inanimate creatures, but also the plans and intentions of men, are so governed by his providence that they are borne by it straight to their appointed end" (Institutes I.XVI.8, 207).

Lints has it right (I think)

The fourth chapter of Richard Lints' The Fabric of Theology* addresses the “trajectory of theology,” or the development of revelation and, ultimately, theology through time. He begins by addressing the culture, the influence of culture on our understanding of revelation, and how to move forward communicating God’s revelation ourselves in the midst of culture. The Christian faith is passed on to generation after generation, and with each new generation the faith must be defended against the errors that are levied against it by that generation’s non-Christian culture. Unfortunately, this has become somewhat difficult in light of the abandonment of tradition by both “antitraditionalism” (liberalism) and “antitraditional traditionalism” (American evangelicalism).

In discussing the “antitraditional traditionalism” of evangelicalism, Lints has one of his most illuminating passages in the book (91-96). He notes that evangelicalism has developed to their current state because of the emphasis on 1) inductive interpretation of the Bible divorced from any coherent tradition, 2) the parachurch identity which minimized theological and denominational distinctives, and 3) an ahistorical piety, uniformed by the Christian past. Concerning the trend of the "private Bible" in contemporary evangelicalism, he writes, "The Bible becomes captive to the whims of the individual freed from external constraints, and in such a situation the individual can imagine the text to say whatever he or she wants it to say" (93). The effect of the "parachurch church" culture in evangelicalism is one of theological reduction in its organization around evangelical "essentials," and even its defense of those essentials. This parachurch trend inevitably results in much of evangelicalism severing itself from theological traditions. In other words, in attempting to articulate that evangelicalism has a core, the tendency is to diminish the importance of other doctrine. Finally, Lints criticizes the effects of "temporal piety" in evangelicalism, lamenting, "The classics of evangelical devotional literature stretch back no further than 1952 [!] with the publication of C. S. Lewis' Mere Christianity. . . . They have convinced themselves that every important thing has happened in the present century and every important book (excepting the Bible, of course) has been written in their own lifetime" (95-96).

Noting the present cultural state, he convincingly demonstrates that culture does serve as a lens that can often distort theology. Yet, Lints says, “The theologian’s hope lies not in an ability to remove our cultural blinders so that we might see God but in the power of God to break through our cultural blinders and thereby enable us to see ourselves more clearly by the radiance of his glory” (106). Lints believes that cultures can “communicate beyond their barriers” (104), and that God himself communicates across cultural frameworks. Yet the theologian should be aware of his cultural predilections, particularly as he moves from exegesis to doctrine. A similar truth holds for the evangelical perspective of the use of reason. A both native and cultural rationale exist in man, and we should appeal as much as we can to this reason, complex as it may be, with our theology and articulations of the gospel. “We must seek to ensure,” Lints concludes, “that cultural expressions in the theological framework always remain open to correction by the Scriptures themselves. The framework of the Scriptures must take precedence over the cultural expressions of that framework” (135).

*Lints, Richard. The Fabric of Theology: A Prolegomenon to Evangelical Theology. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993.

A Lutheran discusses the Gospel and the Ordination of Women

I really really shouldn't be doing this, as I am in the midst of a class with Dr. Bauder, all the while earnestly preparing for a new class to begin on Wednesday. But this one is a bit difficult not to share, and it is a quote, so it is relatively easy to put up (and it has been a few days since my last post).

David P. Scaer writes the chapter, "How do Lutherans 'Do Theology' in Today's World?" in the book Doing Theology in Today's World (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991). In it, he discusses the way the ordination of women relates to the gospel. I found it pretty interesting, particularly in light of some other conversations we have been having here Immoderate.

"How Lutheran theology is done today on the basis of the Scriptures and the Gospel principle can be seen in the case of the ordination of women as pastors, a practice that most Lutherans accept, but which under careful examination contradicts both the scriptural and the Christological principle in Lutheran theology. Paul's prohibitions against women's preaching should logically bring one to the conclusion that women should not be ordained as pastors. The argument could go something like this: (1) Since women may not preach, only men may, (2) Ordination is reserved for those who preach. (3) Therefore, only men, and not women, should be ordained as preachers. This argument is clearly valid, but Lutherans know that the Christological principle is the necessary foundation on which such argumentation must be constructed. Without it, theology remains biblicistic, i.e., citing passages without reference to the Gospel, and not necessarily Lutheran. A women who preaches the word and distributes the sacraments in Christ's stead distorts the image of the Incarnation for the congregation and thus misrepresents him, even if her message should in all points be doctrinally correct. A women standing the place of Christ distorts the image of him as God's Son and in turn of God as the Father. Her appropriating the office to herself gives a false impression of Christ to the congregation and contradicts her message--assuming that is a correct preaching of the Gospel. When the Gospel is damaged (perhaps fundamentally), it no longer functions as the norm of theology. The Gospel does not allow her, if we dare speak like this, to be a pastor. A woman functioning in the role of a pastor conflicts with the truth of the Gospel that the Son of the Father became incarnate in the man Jesus. Where the Incarnation is denied by a visible contradiction (a woman as pastor), the Gospel is also denied" (213-214).

I, of course, would hesitate to embrace all the Scaer argues here. But when we think about the importance of certain issues, particularly as they relate to the Gospel, this, I think, is a thought-provoking example of how we should do it.

D. A. Carson on exegesis

This is pretty good (although I think his word choice is poor at the end):

"If the Bible is nothing less than God's gracious self-disclosure, then as important as it is to understand it on its own terms it must surely be no less important to respond to God as he has disclosed himself. Can the exegesis that is formally 'correct' on this or that point but is not cast in terms of adoration, faith, obedience be at heart sound? I do not mean that scholars must wear their faith on their sleeves or parade their piety each time they take up their pen. On all kinds of technical and disputed points the most dispassionate weighing of evidence is necessary. But is such work cast in the matrix of scholarship devoted in thought (and therefore in form) to serve the God whose revelation is being studied? To put the matter rather crudely, is there not an important responsibility to ask, each time I put pen at paper, whether what I write pleases the God of Scripture, the God of all truth, rather than worry about how my academic colleagues will react? Is exegesis perennially devoid of such flavor genuinely faithful exegesis? Now if such exegetical work is possible, it will flow out of lives that have experienced God, that have been struck with the awesomeness of his holiness, melted with the depth of his love, moved by the condescension of his compassion, thrilled by the prospect of knowing him better."

D. A. Carson, "The Role of Exegesis in Theology," in Doing Theology in Today's World: Essays in Honor of Kenneth S. Kantzer, (ed. John D. Woodbridge and Thomas Edward McComiskey; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991), 67-68.

Jonathan Edwards on deification

It does not appear that Jonathan Edwards was a big fan of deification. He says in Religious Affections,

Thus not only the manner of the relation of the Spirit, who is the operator, to the subject of his operations, is different; as the Spirit operates in the saints, as dwelling in them, as an abiding principle of action, whereas he doth not so operate upon sinners; but the influence and operation itself is different, and the effect wrought exceeding different. So that not only the persons are called spiritual, as having the Spirit of God dwelling in them; but those qualifications, affections, and experiences, that are wrought in them by the Spirit, are also spiritual, and therein differ vastly in their nature and kind from all that a natural man is or can be the subject of, while he remains in a natural state; and also from all that men or devils can be the authors of. It is a spiritual work in this high sense; and therefore above all other works is peculiar to the Spirit of God. There is no work so high and excellent; for there is no work wherein God doth so much communicate himself, and wherein the mere creature hath, in so high a sense a participation of God; so that it is expressed in Scripture by the saints "being made partakers of the divine nature," 2 Pet. 1:4, and "having God dwelling in them, and they in God," 1 John 4:12, 15, 16, and chap. 3:21; "and having Christ in them," John 17:21, Rom. 8:10; "being the temples of the living God," 2 Cor. 6:16; "living by Christ's life," Gal. 2:20; "being made partakers of God's holiness," Heb. 12:10; "having Christ's love dwelling in them," John 17:26; "having his joy fulfilled in them," John 17:13; "seeing light in God's light, and being made to drink of the river of God's pleasures," Psal. 36:8, 9; "having fellowship with God, or communicating and partaking with him (as the word signifies)," 1 John 1:3. Not that the saints are made partakers of the essence of God, and so are godded with God, and christed with Christ, according to the abominable and blasphemous language and notions of some heretics: but, to use the Scripture phrase, they are made partakers of God's fullness, Eph. 3:17, 18, 19, John 1:16, that is, of God's spiritual beauty and happiness, according to the measure and capacity of a creature; for so it is evident the word fullness signifies in Scripture language. Grace in the hearts of the saints, being therefore the most glorious work of God, wherein he communicates of the goodness of his nature, it is doubtless his peculiar work, and in an eminent manner above the power of all creatures. And the influences of the Spirit of God in this, being thus peculiar to God, and being those wherein God does, in so high a manner, communicate himself, and make the creature partaker of the divine nature (the Spirit of God communicating itself in its own proper nature); this is what I mean by those influences that are divine, when I say that "truly gracious affections do arise from those influences that are spiritual and divine."

This is a difficult thing for Dr Edwards to say. I am trying to figure this doctrine out right now, and his calling these kinds "heretics" gives me more pause. He believes that in our "partaking of the divine nature," God has communicated himself, and the goodness of his nature in particular. I cannot help but notice that he does not cite the passage that most opened me to the "Orthodox" view, Col 2:9-10: "For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him, who is the head of all rule and authority" (ESV [οτι εν αυτω κατοικει παν το πληρωμα της θεοτητος σωματικως και εστε εν αυτω πεπληρωμενοι ος εστιν η κεφαλη πασης αρχης και εξουσιας ]).

Notice the striking repitition of the πληρω- words here. All the "fullness [πληρωμα] of the Godhead" dwells bodily in Christ, and then comes the haunting words: you have been "filled" [πεπληρωμενοι] in him.

I still have a lot of questions, and I repudiate the Mormon idea that we become "gods." But in some way we share in the fullness in which Christ himself shares. I don't know what that way is, and I am not terribly anxious to try to articulate it specifically. But I am open to the idea that, as the Apostle Peter reminds us, we have "become partakers of the divine nature" (2 Pet 1:4 (ESV) [γενησθε θειας κοινωνοι φυσεως]).

American Evangelicalism has issues (TBN)

I kept hearing on the news that last night's college football national championchip was supposed to be a "really good game," so I decided to watch some television "while I read my book" for a class I have coming up (listen, we all need down time, right?). Well, between plays (sometimes sports lose my attention), I decided to venture over to my favorite station, TBN. This provided more proof that American evangelicalism has issues.

First, they had an advertisement for a new "Christian reality" show that they're putting together called "Gifted." I think this is based on the popular "American Idol." Too bad they didn't name it "Christian Idol" instead. The advertisement had a spot with some member of the boy band "Backstreet boys" (I think it was Brian Littrell). It's nice to see that this young man could stop singing about fornication long enough to come help out a upstart Christian television program. Perhaps the best thing about "Gifted" is its name. I mean, think about it. Isn't this just what Paul meant in the Holy Scripture when he talked about our receiving gifts from the Spirit? We're the ones who are "gifted." And I think I read once in one of those "recognized your spiritual gifts books" that one of the best ways to tell that you're gifted is to go on some talent contest and win after you've danced all over the stage bellowing out some "praise to God." And isn't that the point of being gifted? I think Paul does say something like, "But earnestly desire the higher gifts." (1 Cor 12:31, ESV). You see, that's a bad translation. What he is actually trying to say here is that we should strive to find out if we are the most gifted.

The second thing I saw was an actual television program starring (I love that word in a Christian context) that great television star from the 80's or 90's (or whatever), Kirk Cameron. I think the name of the program was "Way of the Master" or something. On this program they taped Kirk or somebody (the camera wasn't on the "evangelist") trying to "soul win" out on the streets. I had a friend tell me about this once. They were video-recording this "real" on-the-street "evangelism." Now let's think about this. How would you have liked to have been video-recorded when you were confronted with the gospel? Let's say the camera was "in tight" following you as you walked down the aisle. How would you have like to have been video-recorded when someone was trying to convict you of sin? I felt like I had to turn my head or leave the room (or turn the channel!). Here is what is supposed to be one of the most intimate of all decisions, the decision upon which all of life hangs, and they are video-taping it! Can we offer these people no privacy? Being called a liar or fornicator or sinner is no great honor, why must we publically humiliate them while we do it? Sin and hell and grace and salvation are too important to be handled in this manner. And this brings me to my other point on this. Who ever acts like himself while being recorded on video? If anything, the presence of the camera makes us less prone to truthfulness or honesty--we want to put on a show (and all "reality television" is proof of this). Well, I'm glad they can provide this little experiment with these persons' souls. Then we can all learn how to evangelize in real-time.

Bruce Springsteen on rock music

"The subtext of all rock songs is 'Will you pull your pants down?'"

"Any pop song or rock song worth its salt--[frustration's] gotta be in there. . . . It is music made by frustrated people. . . . It's in everything, everything. that was one of the fundamental elements--the tools, the stones that you worked with--came out of your personal life and it also came out of the form."

So says Bruce Springsteen. But, of course, you really didn't need him to tell you this.

Some remarks on the 9-Marks interview "Cooperation in the Church"

No matter how carefully I try to word this or voice my concerns with it, I am sure that these remarks may sound like I am some kind of incipient neo-evangelical. Let me thus begin by assuring the readership that I am not. I am full five-point fundamentalist (a phrase I like to use, but has no real meaning), and have no desire to turn over any fundamentalist apple cart. I realize that even though I say this, there is the distinct possibility that my remarks below may cause me to be regarded as a nonfundamentalist, which is unfortunate. I am a fundamentalist, fully espouse separatism (even the oft maligned "secondary" sort), and would consider myself a fundamentalist patriot. Anyway. I have listened somewhat closely to the recent 9 Marks interview, Cooperation in the Church. It is a conversation between Mark Dever, J. Ligon Duncan, Al Mohler, and C. J. Mahaney on how and when evangelicals should fellowship together. I have just a few observations concerning this discussion:

1) Some evangelicals separate. I will be using the term "evangelical" to speak of those who are not "fundamentalist." Some may understand better what I mean if I were to say that these "evangelicals" are those in the lineage of the "neo-evangelicals" of Okenga, Henry, and the like. Some fundamentalists do not acknowledge that evangelicals separate. They are wrong. They should listen to this interview.

2) Some conservative evangelicals are more and more embracing "secondary separation." The irony for me is that some fundamentalists are more and more rejecting it. Dever himself names two occasions where he has separated, or "not cooperated." In an example of what some fundamentalists would call "first degree" separation, he notes that he refused to take part in an interfaith service following September 11, 2001. In an example of what some fundamentalists would call "second-degree separation," Dever says at the end of the interview that he refused to take part in an evangelistic crusade because it involved Catholics (at which point the group expressed their dismay over ECT stuff). Mohler says that he wished Baptists would again embrace their heritage of "associationalism," where pastors would personally confront other pastors they heard proclaiming error, and, if the pastor or assembly did not respond, that church would be cut off from the association. Modern evangelicalism, he laments, is not very good at this. By the way, fundamentalists are not always adept at this either.

3) Some conservative evangelicals are becoming more and more careful about cooperation. One of them, for example, (I think it was Mahaney) urged pastors to research other pastors' stand on the gospel before cooperating with them. They agreed that the persons with whom they most enjoy fellowshipping are those who hold the areas of disagreement firmly. Dever (who is a Baptist), for example, said he enjoyed fellowship with Duncan (a Presbyterian) because he knows that Duncan holds his Presbyterian convictions strongly. These kinds of individuals, who are "thick" (that must be a neo-evangelical word for "solid") on doctrinal matters, know that certain doctrines are important, even though it is a point of doctrinal disagreement.

4) The group seemed to misunderstand fundamentalism. Their critiques are probably warranted, for their exposure to fundamentalists are probably much different than the kind with whom I usually associate. Dever, for instance, gave an example of a fundamentalist deacon who was removed from his deaconate because his daughter elected to attend Liberty. I would hope that this is not the trend among fundamentalists, but these types, as we all know, are out there. Dever, though I hesitate to add this with the risk of misrepresenting him, seemed to boil fundamentalist separatism down to those who will not cooperate in evangelistic crusades. Mohler had this response to fundamentalist separatism: "That is a dying phenomenon. That is not the growth edge of conservative, gospel-loving Christianity in American. That's kind of an antiquarian remnant. So I wouldn't waste too much time worrying about it." This is a regrettable analysis, and shows a real ignorance of the fundamentalist concern with the purity of the gospel, including those who appear to be indifferent to it.

5) Some conservative evangelicals are moving away from their Neo-evangelical past. I use the term "neo-evangelical" here on purpose. Consider this exchange (slightly condensed), which I found to be terribly interesting:

Mohler: "I think the whole idea of the evangelical dream of Carl Henry and Harold John Okenga [Mark Dever adds, "Christianity Today, the National Association of Evangelicals"] in the whole period right after World War II is one of those critical points we need to go back and look at. I just have to acknowledge that Carl Henry is a mentor to me. . . . I have to admit that the evangelicals of that generation had a far too optimistic understanding of how easy it would be to stand on the gospel. And because of this, they just abdicated ecclesiology. . . . I think they saw themselves in a moment of cultural opportunity, and my thesis is that we are now in a moment of cultural crisis. . . . We are not going to be seduced by that false impression, but we can be very much seduced by things we're not seeing in our own times as the danger."

Dever: "[Local churches loving the gospel] is going to display different lives that are then going to begin to address some of those issues [of the cultural crisis]. Not a full-blown Anabaptist separatism, but it is saying that the best way we can witness to the world and the culture, or one of the best ways--an indispensable part of it and the trunk of it--is by having disciplined communities of people who are effectively demonstrating the gospel."

Mohler: "The lack of that discipline was the fatal absence in the evangelical structure. In other words, there was no way to say who was and wasn't. There still isn't any way to say who is and isn't an evangelical, and therein lies the problem."

Ligon: "In a sense, the evangelicals of that generation shared something of that dream that those that started the World Council of Churches before them shared."

6) Conservative evangelicals are not as separatist as fundamentalists. Forgive me for stating the obvious, but I need to add this for my young fundamentalist readers out there. I do not think we can yet impose upon these men the label "fundamentalist." I believe that these men would still be hesitant about separating from some of those whom most fundamentalists separate. For example, I do not believe that J. I. Packer's work in the ECT is enough pause for these men to separate from him. I would assume that they would still consider Packer "strong on the gospel" (let me reiterate that is an assumption on my part). I would have a serious problem with someone like Packer who has seen fit to damage (in my opinion) the gospel in his ECT work, even though he personally may rigidly affirm a strong conservative evangelical articulation of it and even defend it from time to time.

In summary, this interview is helpful in that it shows the times are, indeed, changing. Although there are certain trends in American evangelicalism that are troubling, it is encouraging that some are again recognizing the value of fundamentalist separatism. We should not yet try to make them into fundamentalists, but it is certainly not the 1940's anymore.

The House of Bread, like, rocks, man

Okay. So I was sitting at work today minding my own business when my brother called. I did not expect it to be him on the other side of the line. I have caller-ID at work; my brother lives in Wisconsin; the call was local (relax, Jonathan Edwards used more than one semi-colon every once in a while). Sure enough, there was R----, giving me his standard greeting.

I like R----. He is one of the best brothers I have, falling quite easily into the top three. Every year R---- comes up to J--- -----'s "House of Bread" Pastor's Conference. Every year he forgets to tell me when he's coming up. Then he calls me when he's already up with scarcely sixteen hours before he leaves, and wants me to do something with him. Well . . . actually . . . not really. He calls because he knows that if I find out that he is within 60 minutes of the Twin Cities and does not contact me in some way, shape, or form, that I will give him a stern lecture in the proper manifestations of brotherly love (that's phile-o for those of you following along in your Greek Bibles). So in an effort to dodge a guilt trip, he calls at the last minute, confesses that he is within striking distance, and apologizes for not calling me sooner. Yeah, right. I've heard that before.

R---- told me that his next session was a mere three and a half hours away. Meanwhile, I was hoping to work a little later tonight because I'm currently swamped. And the President was speaking at 8:00 p.m. I had my evening nicely planned. Things were a little tight, but they were nicely planned, all the same. Nevertheless, I decided to break my neat and tidy plans and go take him out to dinner.

So I drove down to get him. This ended up being an ordeal. Really, (and I am being serious here), I can handle downtown Minneapolis just fine, thank you. Except tonight. So I finally found the Hilton (it's all about getting on the right one-way street at the right time) about ten minutes after I said I would. I picked him up and took him up to the North part of Minneapolis. We stopped by one place, but the entrees starting with $19.95 lamb chops on the menu outside the door deterred us. So I decided to take him to Wendy's instead (this story is completely true). We both were in the mood for their Spicy Chicken sandwich (I love that thing). We ate, and talked about how conservatives love the "rule of law." A good time was had by all.

Then we headed back to the Hilton for R----'s evening session at the conference. I had no intention of going to the session, partly because I was not a paying participant, and mostly because I was still hoping to catch the State of the Union address (I ended up missing the best part, which appears to be the Cindy Sheehan debacle before it started). But not going to the conference does not mean that I could not reasonably stop by the conference book store. So we pulled up, R---- worked some magic with the bell-hop, I parked my van in their drive-up, yielded my keys and was soon started up the escalators to the third floor to book-buying glory (Bethlehem's bookstore has good prices and a pretty good selection). As I entered the third floor, where the conference was taking place, I was either running into or seeing a fundamentalist every ten feet. If you randomly threw up a water balloon, odds would be good that you'd hit a fundamentalist.

The book area was in the room adjacent to where the conference sessions were held. The room is very large with a large ceiling--bigger than many church auditoriums I have seen, perhaps as big as a half-gym. They have over a dozen tables with many books. Great amounts of money could be spent here: Puritans, Bibles, commentaries, studies, biographies, church history, audio sermons and really cheap prices on Piper's books. A young man with not much less restraint than I could have easily lost his control in that great hall. As I was busy methodically making my way through the place, I was beginning to sense that my time to depart was nearing. R----, who was still with me (he was actually off a couple tables over eyeing some other items), would soon need to be joining the rest of the men in the final evening session.

That's when I heard it . . . the sound of war.

The madness was beginning, the drums and the bass were beginning to warm up. A kind of singing followed. It sounded like someone was playing a worship CD in the next room--very loudly.

With the music's loudness ever increasing, I made my final selections and headed toward the exit with R----. As we walked by the room, the doors were open and the session was filled with men and women standing in front of their chairs. I could see up to the front of the room several yards away a choir on platform raisers. The choir was swaying to the rhythm. The people in the back did not look like they were involved. In fact, most people were just kind of staring. I was kind of doing the same thing--it's just I was walking while I was doing it. I could not see the people in front, but I assume they must have been the ones who were "into it." I was kind of doing the same thing--it's just I was walking while I was doing it.

I am at the point now where I just find these things funny. They are so far beyond anything related to the Christian tradition I know, I just laugh at it. And that's what I did tonight. I laughed. I was astonished. These things are good for me to see; they remind me that there are actually people out there who like this stuff. I said to my brother, "You know, this is what many called 'enthusiasm' during the first Great Awakening." I asked my brother if he liked the idea of a frenzy. I have no real idea how conservative he is on these matters, but I am not one who usually passes up a chance to state the point of the situation. I asked him what he thought of an unbridled frenzy, where one "worships" whether they like it or not.

I remember one of the few times I have had the pleasure of hearing J--- ----- "in person," he spoke on the necessity of loving God with our minds, and how we do it. I had a distinct disconnect as he concluded speaking--what about contemporary worship? How is that loving God with all your mind? The exalted poetry? The thought-provoking music? This is not to say that I am smarter than J--- ----- (okay, you can stop laughing now), or even that I love God with my mind in any way as well as he does, but that was an area where he seemed really inconsistent.

My brother and I parted ways before I descended the final escalator. It was good seeing him again. It was also good to remind myself why I am not planning on attending the "House of Bread" Pastor's Conference.

B is for Baloney

If somebody could tell me the difference between a Democrat and a Republican, I would really appreciate the clarification.

Thomas Tallis

This Naxos podcast features a brief biography of Thomas Tallis and samples his Spem in Alium. It's kind of funny because this old guy tells bad (and dry) jokes trying to make Tallis hip, but it is a half-way decent introduction.

Premoderns wonder

The common distinctions between the prevailing epochs of the thought-constructs of mankind are threefold: premodern, modern, and postmodern. Myron Penner summarizes:

“In premodernity rational thought begins with an attitude of wonder, and the basic orientation for philosophical reflection is characterized as an attempt to explain the perplexities of the universe (which cause one to wonder). . . . There is a sense of awe and mystery, and even gratitude, that accompanies premodern philosophical reflection” (Christianity and the Post Modern Turn [Grand Rapids: Brazos, 2005], 23). Incidently, Penner adds two other characteristics of premodern thought: no intrinsic antithesis between faith and reason, and the life of reason is a communal event. This radically changed from the Enlightenment. Penner explains, “The form of rational inquiry inherited from the premoderns becomes, in modernity, inherently suspect. . . . Thus doubt, not wonder, is the fundamentally rational posture, for doubt is the only means for a modern self to guarantee that he or she is not deceived” (24).

Richard Weaver is insightful on this principle of wonder. He says (in one of the most remarkable extra-Biblical paragraphs I have ever read),

“When we affirm that philosophy begins with wonder, we are affirming in effect that sentiment is anterior to reason. We do not undertake to reason about anything until we have been drawn to it by an affective interest. In the cultural life of man, therefore, the fact of paramount importance about anyone is his attitude toward the world. . . . We begin our other affirmations after a categorical statement that life and the world are to be cherished” (Ideas Have Consequences [Chicago: University of Chicago, 1948], 19).

There is the spirit of wonder shining through. This reminds me of another Weaver remark in his essay “Up from Liberalism”: “I found myself in decreasing sympathy with those social political doctrines erected upon the concept of a man-dominated universe and more and more inclined to believe with Walt Whitman that ‘a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.’”

And this reminds me of G. K. Chesterton, who wrote,

“The ordinary scientific man is strictly a sentimentalist. He is a sentimentalist in this essential sense, that he is soaked and swept away by mere associations. He has so often seen birds fly and lay eggs that he feels as if there must be some dreamy, tender connection between the two ideas, whereas there is none. A forlorn lover might be unable to dissociate the moon from lost love; so the materialist is unable to dissociate the moon from the tide. In both cases there is no connection, except that one has seen them together. A sentimentalist might shed tears at the smell of apple-blossom, because, by dark association of his own, it reminded him of his boyhood. So the materialist professor (though he conceals his tears) is yet a sentimentalist, because, by a dark association of his own, apple-blossoms remind him of apples. But the cool rationalist from fairyland does not see why, in the abstract, the apple tree should not grow crimson tulips; it sometimes does in his country” ("The Ethics of Elfland" in Orthodoxy).

Which in turn reminds me of a Latin hymn:

O magnum mysterium
et admirabile sacramentum,
ut animalia viderent
Dominum natum,
jacentem in præsepio.

O great mystery
And astonishing sacrament
That animals should see
The birth of the Lord
Lying in a manger.

Gonald on divorce

This passage comes from the excellent talk by Christopher Olaf Blum, available at ISI. The speech principally concerns the conservatism of Louis de Bonald, a foremost thinker in the French conservative tradition. You should listen to this speech, for conservatism should extend far past our politics, but into our church life as well. Bonald emphasized the importance of good work and the traditional mores that come from being tied to your agrarian community. He was also a politician who helped bring about a change from the legalization of no-fault divorce in France in the mid 19th century. Bonald said concerning divorce,

"When society has come to the point with the head-strong loves of the young: that inexstinguishable nourishment for the arts, have in countless ways become the concern of people of every age (women, old and young are obsessed with these things), when marital authority is the butt of jokes, when paternal authority thought to be tyrannical, when obscene books, displayed everywhere, sold or lended at so low a price they seem to be given away teach the child things that nature does not reveal to the grown man, when human nudity that distinctive characteristic of extreme barbarism, offers itself everywhere to our eyes in public places, and when the woman itself, clothed without being covered, has discovered the art of insulting modesty without offending good taste, when religion has lost all its terror, and when enlightened spouses see in their reciprocal infidelities only a secret to keep from one another or perhaps a secret to share, in times such as these, to tolerate divorce is to legalize adultery. It is to conspire with man's passions against his reason, and with man himself against society."

And to think that some conservative Christians are quickly willing to balk at this important issue of divorce in our society and churches. I say that we should instead be prophets in the midst of this dark land, as Bonald was in his, extolling the virtue of keeping our vows! In his talk, Blum has many memorable things to say, including this gem:

"The times are dark indeed, and in these times we conservatives especially need to cultivate the virtue of hope. . . . For marriage and family come from God, and in His providence God protects the good things that He ordains for our protection, our perfection, and our happiness. God is a conservative."

from John Donne's Holy Sonnets

Holy Sonnet XI

Spit on my face you Jewes, and pierce my side,
Buffet, and scoffe, scourge, and crucifie mee,
For I have sinn'd, and sinn'd, and onely hee,
Who could do no iniquitie, hath dyed:
But by my death can not be satisified
My sinnes, which passe the Jewes impiety:
They kill'd once an inglorious man, but I
Crucifie him daily, being now glorified;
Oh let mee then, his strange love still admire:
Kings pardon, but he bore our punishment.
And Jacob came cloth'd in vile harsh attire
But to supplant, and with gainfull intent:
God cloth'd himselfe in vile mans flesh, that so
Hee might be weake enough to suffer woe.

Way to be born, Mozart

I am sure that the blogosphere will be ringing today with the accolades of Mozart on this 250th anniversary of his birth. My original idea was to show how he was inferior to Bach. That, however, would be not be proper.

I like Mozart. Although I would not by any means consider myself a Mozart expert, I am convinced that he was a genius. Music was more than mere composition for Mozart; it was a language. Some argue that Mozart is "the quintessential composer of joy." I am not sure I agree with that. Often while listening to Mozart, I have the distinct feeling that the guy is pulling a fast one on me. Here is someone composing at the apex of the "classical period," and exploiting it as if it were a simple game. I hear this in his sublime 21st piano concerto, where the simply melody of the first movement plays dissonance against resolution like a man with a child's toy. The very famous 3rd movement of the Serenade for Winds (K. 361) begins with pulsing chords, subtly anticipating the entrance of that one single pure note lingering above the steady rhythm. The dissonance created is not resolved any time soon, but remains prolonged and drawn out for several measures, even after the held note moves onto the more developed melody. It's nearly as bad as Wagner. Even his more exuberant pieces sound like someone simply playing with the score, adding trivial turns and general frivolity. His "musical joke" in F Major is well known. Other examples of this phenomenon include his Divertimento in D Major (K 131), German Dance No. 3 in C Major, Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, even the Adagio from his Clarinet Concerto in A Major. I realize I am probably reading popular ideas I have of Mozart into the man's music. I am not sure the classical era achieved much higher heights, and it is this cultural situation in which Mozart found himself that redeems him to a great extent. Often one senses refinement and a kind of pure musically logical perfection, with the satisfaction that the music does exactly what it should do--more or less (every once in a while, you get the impression that the borrow chord he just threw in was a bit extravagant).

The most serious music Mozart composed with which I familiar was the infamous and nearly mythical Requiem Mass (you can hear a discussion and excerpts here). This is surely not frivolity. Here Mozart is at his post powerful, profound, and beautiful (with the possible exception of his fugues). But his portrayal of death is very grim. The musical tradition concerning death did not develop or evolve from Bach (who was greatly concerned with death), but seemingly lost its bearings. There is, it would appear, no hope (and I am not talking about the kind of denial seen in, for example, Faure's Requiem). It is far better for us to sit under the instruction of Bach or even Brahams concerning this matter of death than Mozart. Yet the music is still profound and meaningful, both beautiful and foreboding. Even the tempestuous Dies irae can teach us something of God's wrath.

So Mozart is for me an enigma; in the end, I have mixed feelings about the little master consumed with bowel movements and opera and sex (et. al.). Mozart's music serves well as a diversion and demonstration of musical genius, but I am skeptical of its value for piety or religious affection.

American Evangelicalism has issues (ChristianBibleStudies.com)

Do you find the Bible boring? Perhaps you would be like the Bible if a movie came along with it? Then look no further than Christianity Today's subsidiary ChristianBibleStudies.com. This noble company offers "dozens of ready-to-download, ready-to-use Bible studies on topics as relevant as today's headlines. From Islam to genetics, politics to spiritual growth, you'll find plenty of studies that will catch your interest." Best of all, their Bible studies "facilitate lively discussions and interaction." In other words, if you find something else more exciting than the Bible, perhaps you can appease the guilt you feel for neglecting the good book by getting the Bible in with that other thing you enjoy more! It's the best of both worlds! Who doesn't like to say that they're part of a Bible study? What's more pious than that? Can somebody shout "Glory"?!

But that is not all (this is where it gets really good). Not only can get your Bible slipped in with all sorts of other, more interesting topics, but one of those more interesting topics can be movies! They offer Bible studies that go hand in hand for teen movies (like "The Matrix" or "Napolean Dynamite"), family movies (like "Cheaper by the Dozen" and "Elf"), and, of course, for your more sophisticated Bible studies, for adult movies, too. They offer many selections, including "Spiderman" (1 and 2), "the Notebook," "Saving Private Ryan."

I could tell just by looking at this site that their best offering must be the Bible study that goes along with "Bruce Almighty," a noted pious "comedy that illustrates the power, presence, and goodness of God." Yes, I am sure that you thought that this flick starring the ever-so reverent Jim Carrey would make a pure mockery out of God. Not so, my fine Christian friend. First, this is obvious because it stars Morgan Freeman as God, and Morgan Freeman is not a homosexual (Jim Carrey becomes "God" for a bit, and I guess he doesn't like it or something). But, more importantly, now you can redeem this movie to be used in a Bible study that tackles such thorny issues as God's "injustice," "communication with God" (some Christians call that "prayer"), "God's active presence in our lives" (some theologians call that "process theology"), and "God's goodness" (that's where God lets you sin all you want). And you get to talk about all that while watching "Bruce Almighty"! Download this little gem of a "Bible study guide" and you can make up to 1,000 copies for your church! That's nearly enough for Sunday morning! Be careful about some of the young people in attendance (heh, heh, they will all be in children's church watching their Bible study based on "Mary Poppins"), "Bruce Almighty" is rated PG-13 (but only for language, sexual content, and some crude humor).

Nos Sobrii: The Idea of Fundamentalism

You must read Kevin Bauder's post for today.

Nos Sobrii: The Idea of Fundamentalism

A. W. Tozer on the Christian "mystic"

Tozer edited a book of Christian poetry he called The Christian Book of Mystical Verse (you really need to get this book; I know I've said that before, but this time I really mean it). In his introduction, he tries to explain why he used the word "mystic" in the title. He acknowledged that there were some called "mystics," who tended toward the "bizarre and prodigious"'; these kinds of individuals whose psychic disposition tended toward the occult should not be considered "mystics."

Tozer explains that a "mystic" is one who partakes in the "personal spiritual experience" which saints of Biblical and post-Biblical times enjoyed. He is speaking, he explains, of "the evangelical mystic who has been brought by the gospel into intimate fellowship with the Godhead" (vi). The source of theology for the mystic is "no less and no more" than what is found in the Bible; fellowship in the same commitment to truth that the reformers and Puritans enjoyed.

So how does the mystic differ from other Christians? Tozer answers, "Because [the mystic] experiences his faith down in the depths of his sentiment being while the other does not. He exists in a world of spiritual reality. He is quietly, deeply, and sometimes almost ecstatically aware of the Presence of God in his own nature and in the world around him. His religious experience is sometime elemental, as old as time and the creation. It is immediate acquaintance with God by union with the Eternal Son. It is to know that which passes knowledge" (vi).

Jonathan Edwards on Christian Liberty

"In the service of God, there is true liberty to do whatever tends most for our pleasure. A great and chief argument of Satan to dissuade men from the service of God is that it abridges of all manner of pleasure; it ties one up from seeking our own pleasure, but [we] must be obliged to be mopish and melancholy, and must never more pleasure and divert ourselves.

To this I answer that in the service of God there is full and free liberty to seek as much pleasure as we please, to enjoy the best kind of pleasure in the world, and as much of it as we possibly can obtain with all our might and main. There are no restraints.

Here, perhaps you may object and say how can this be: don't the law of God command us to mortify ourselves and to deny ourselves of sensual pleasures, to take up our cross, to take Christ's yoke upon us; will not allow us the full enjoyment of any worldly pleasure, [and] is not this a restraining of our liberty to do so?

This I answer. How can that be called an abridging our liberty which only restrains us from those pleasures that in a little time would turn into torments? Only from those that are honey in the mouth but a tormenting poison in the belly. Doth a father or mother abridge the child of liberty because he is not suffered to drink sweet poison? Is the child abridged of liberty because the mother will not suffer it to play with the flame of a candle?

Doth the law of God abridge us of liberty because it will not suffer us to run into hell, because he forbids those lusts that have a seed of hell in them? . . . Is it such an unreasonable thing in the law of God that it will not suffer us to be miserable when we desire it? All the liberty that we are denied by God's law is this: he will never grant us liberty by his law to be eternally miserable.

God don't restrain from true pleasure and satisfaction; yea, he obliges us to do that which will bring us to the highest pleasure and the greatest delights. He don't restrain from pleasure in this world; indeed, he restrains us from the beastly pleasure of drunkenness and of fornication: that is, God will not give men liberty to be beasts. But the noblest, the most excellent, the sweetest and most exalted pleasures, we may exercise ourselves in them as we please. We may recreate and delight ourselves in those sweet angelical pleasures without any restraint or prohibition. We may refresh ourselves with those delights and none will hinder us: our consciences will not restrain us; God will not hinder us; we may roll ourselves in these pleasure as much as we will."

- "Christian Liberty," in The Works of Jonathan Edwards vol. 10: Sermons and Discourses 1720-1723 (New Haven: Yale, 1992), 627-628.

The Word of Christ dwelling richly among the Church

Today I also posted an article on the Kara Ministries Weblog entitled "The Word of Christ dwelling richly among the church." Please stop by and join the conversation.

What the early church thought about movies

I know, I know. You're all sick of the movie discussion. There are movie discussions all over the web, and we just had a big movie discussion here. I hate beating dead horses, and there a lot of sites that do just that; yet consider this a one time indulgence of horse-beating. I told some folks that I wanted to do this, simply to show that drama and the church have not always been the bedfellows they are increasingly becoming in American evangelicalism. So here are some selections from the early church fathers about drama. The references at the end of each selection give you where you can find it in the Ante-Nicene Fathers.

"The utter ribaldry in pretentious tones and they act out indecent movements. Your daughters and your sons watch them giving lessons in adultery on the stage." Tatian (vol. 2, p 75)

"Neither can we watch the other spectacles [i.e., the theaters], lest our eyes and ears be defiled by participating in the utterances that are sung there. . . . And as for adultery, both in the case of men and of gods, whom they celebrate in elegant language for honors and prizes, this is made the subject of their dramas." - Theophilus (vol. 2, p. 115)

"What base action is there that is not exhibited in the theaters?" - Clement of Alexandria (vol. 2, p. 290)

"We renounce all your spectacles. . . . Among us nothing is ever said, seen, or heard that is anything in common with the madness of the circus, the immodesty of theater, the atrocities of the arena, or the useless exercise of the wrestling ground. Why do you take offense at us because we differ from you in regard to your pleasures?" - Tertullian (vol. 3, p. 46)

"We are evaluated by our character and modesty. Therefore, for good reason, we abstain from evil pleasures, and from your pomps and exhibitions. We know the origin in connection with religious things, and we condemn their mischievous enticements. . . . In the drama games, the madness is not less. Rather, the debauchery is more prolonged. For now a mime either expounds or acts out adulteries. . . . The same actor provokes your tears with pretended sufferings, with vain gestures and expressions." - Mark Minucius Felix (vol. 4, p. 196).

"Men who claim for themselves the authority of the Christian name are not ashamed . . . to find a defense in the heavenly Scriptures for the vain superstitions associated with the public exhibitions of the pagans. . . . They say, 'Where are there such Scriptures? Where are these things prohibited? On the contrary both Elijah was a charioteer of Israel and David himself danced before the ark. We read of the psalteries, horns trumpets, drums, pipes, harps, and choral dances. . . . Why, then, may not a faithful Christian man gaze upon that which the divine pen might write about? . . . However, the fact that Elijah was the charioteer of Israel is no defense for gazing upon the public games. For he did not run his race in a circus. And the fact that David led the dances in the presence of God is no sanction for the faithful Christians to occupy seats in the public theater. For David did not twist his limbs about in obscene movements." - Novatian (vol. 5, pp. 575-576).

"Now I will pass from this to the shameless corruption of the stage. I am ashamed to talk about the things that are said there. In fact, I am even ashamed to denounce the things that are done--the tricks of arguments, the cheating of adulterers, the immodesty of women, the indecent jokes. . . . People flock there to the public disgrace of the brothel, for the teaching of obscenity." - Novatian (vol. 5, p. 577).

"Things that have now ceased to be actual deeds of vice become examples. . . . Adultery is learned while it is seen. . . . The matron who has perhaps gone to the spectacle as a modest woman, returns from it immodest. What a degradation of morals it is! What a stimulus to abominable deeds, what food for vice!" - Cyprian (vol. 5. p. 277).

"And I am inclined to think that the corrupting influence of the stage is still more contaminating. For the subject of comedies are the dishonouring of virgins, or the loves of harlots; and the more eloquent they are who have composed the accounts of these disgraceful actions, the more do they persuade by the elegance of their sentiments; and harmonious and polished verses more readily remain fixed in the memory of the hearers. In like manner, the stories of the tragedians place before the eyes the parricides and incests of wicked kings, and represent tragic crimes. And what other effect do the immodest gestures of the players produce, but both teach and excite lusts? whose enervated bodies, rendered effeminate after the gait and dress of women, imitate unchaste women by their disgraceful gestures. Why should I speak of the actors of mimes, who hold forth instruction in corrupting influences, who teach adulteries while they feign them, and by pretended actions train to those which are true? What can young men or virgins do, when they see that these things are practised without shame, and willingly beheld by all?" - Lactantius (vol. 7, p. 187)

If all these were not enough, consider the entire book De Spectaculis by Tertullian, where he lays into many common Roman entertainments. He knows that many heathen want to argue that "human enjoyment, by any of our pleasures" is pleasing to God. Yet, Tertullian wants to prove that "these things are not consistent with true religion and true obedience to the true God. This work, like the other citations that I have made here, are remarkably contemporary, even today, addressing many of the same allurments. Consider, for instance, the argument commonly made by some that the Bible never forbids drama:

"How vain, then—nay, how desperate—is the reasoning of persons, who, just because they decline to lose a pleasure, hold out that we cannot point to the specific words or the very place where this abstinence is mentioned, and where the servants of God are directly forbidden to have anything to do with such assemblies!"

Or consider this remark on the consistent witness of believers:

"Do we not abjure and rescind that baptismal pledge, when we cease to bear its testimony? Does it then remain for us to apply to the heathen themselves. Let them tell us, then, whether it is right in Christians to frequent the show. Why, the rejection of these amusements is the chief sign to them that a man has adopted the Christian faith. If any one, then, puts away the faith’s distinctive badge, he is plainly guilty of denying it. What hope can you possibly retain in regard to a man who does that? When you go over to the enemy’s camp, you throw down your arms, desert the standards and the oath of allegiance to your chief: you cast in your lot for life or death with your new friends."

Perhaps it seems to us sophisticated American evangelicals that such remarks (strangely akin to the now antiquated "fundamentalism") is a "little over the top." But may we not dismiss such statements in such a cavalier manner! Tertullian says,

Are we not, in like manner, enjoined to put away from us all immodesty? On this ground, again, we are excluded from the theatre, which is immodesty’s own peculiar abode, where nothing is in repute but what elsewhere is disreputable. . . . The very harlots, too, victims of the public lust, are brought upon the stage, . . . I say nothing about other matters, which it were good to hide away in their own darkness and their own gloomy caves, lest they should stain the light of day. Let the Senate, let all ranks, blush for very shame! . . . But if we ought to abominate all that is immodest, on what ground is it right to hear what we must not speak? For all licentiousness of speech, nay, every idle word, is condemned by God. Why, in the same way, is it right to look on what it is disgraceful to do? How is it that the things which defile a man in going out of his mouth, are not regarded as doing so when they go in at his eyes and ears—when eyes and ears are the immediate attendants on the spirit—and that can never be pure whose servants-in-waiting are impure? You have the theatre forbidden, then, in the forbidding of immodesty."

Augustine, too, had very little good to say about the theater. In book 3 (chapter 2) of his Confessions, he said,

Let us, however, love the sorrows of others. But let us beware of uncleanness, O my soul, under the protection of my God, the God of our fathers, who is to be praised and exalted--let us beware of uncleanness. I have not yet ceased to have compassion. But in those days in the theaters I sympathized with lovers when they sinfully enjoyed one another, although this was done fictitiously in the play. And when they lost one another, I grieved with them, as if pitying them, and yet had delight in both grief and pity. Nowadays I feel much more pity for one who delights in his wickedness than for one who counts himself unfortunate because he fails to obtain some harmful pleasure or suffers the loss of some miserable felicity. This, surely, is the truer compassion, but the sorrow I feel in it has no delight for me. For although he that grieves with the unhappy should be commended for his work of love, yet he who has the power of real compassion would still prefer that there be nothing for him to grieve about. For if good will were to be ill will--which it cannot be--only then could he who is truly and sincerely compassionate wish that there were some unhappy people so that he might commiserate them. Some grief may then be justified, but none of it loved. Thus it is that thou dost act, O Lord God, for thou lovest souls far more purely than we do and art more incorruptibly compassionate, although thou art never wounded by any sorrow. Now "who is sufficient for these things?"

But at that time, in my wretchedness, I loved to grieve; and I sought for things to grieve about. In another man's misery, even though it was feigned and impersonated on the stage, that performance of the actor pleased me best and attracted me most powerfully which moved me to tears. What marvel then was it that an unhappy sheep, straying from thy flock and impatient of thy care, I became infected with a foul disease? This is the reason for my love of griefs: that they would not probe into me too deeply (for I did not love to suffer in myself such things as I loved to look at), and they were the sort of grief which came from hearing those fictions, which affected only the surface of my emotion. Still, just as if they had been poisoned fingernails, their scratching was followed by inflammation, swelling, putrefaction, and corruption. Such was my life! But was it life, O my God?

I know that the following men should not be considered "the early church," but let me add some contemporary remarks about drama. More recently, drama has been condemned by the likes of William Law and A. W. Tozer. In his Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life, William Law says,

Instead of the vain, immodest entertainment of plays and operas, I have taught you to delight in visiting the sick and poor. What music, and dancing, and diversions are to many in the world, that prayers and devotions, and psalms, are to you. Your hands have not been employed in plaiting the hair, and adorning your persons; but in making clothes for the naked. You have not wasted your fortunes upon yourselves, but have added your labour to them, to do more good to other people.

A. W. Tozer believes that the motion picture itself is a neutral medium, but that motion pictures portraying drama is wrong. In his essay, The Menace of the Religious Movie (You need to get this. You can buy it here--the entire book is well worth owning), he argues that the gospel ought never be communicated in a motion picture (I can think of some embroiled in current "religious movie" controversies that should spend some quiet time in Tozer). Part of his prohibition stems from his belief that drama is itself illegitimate. He says that acting is "a violation of sincerity." Tozer says,

"In order to produce a religious movie someone must, for the time, disguise his individuality and simulate that of another. His actions must be judged fraudulent, and those who watch them must with approval share in the fraud" (195).

Later he adds, "History will show that no spiritual advance, no revival, no upsurge of spiritual life has ever been associated with acting in any form. The Holy Spirit never honors pretense" (197). He goes so far to say that,

"[The movie] is a medium in itself wholly foreign to the Bible and altogether unauthorized therein. It is play acting--just that, and nothing more. . . . The printing press is neutral; so is the radio; so is the camera. They may be used for good or bad purposes at the will of the user. But play acting is bad in its essence in that it involves the simulation of emotions not actually felt. It embodies a gross moral contradiction in that it calls a lie to the service of truth" (199).

I am sure I am leaving out some key Christian figures and their remarks on drama. The point here has not been to be comprehensive, but to provoke our thinking. To be sure, fundamentalism has not always articulated their opposition to movies in the best terms. Fundamentalism has also commonly showed an inconsistency in their approach to movies and drama, as the most hallowed universities and institutions have given a blessing to the medium for religious purposes. But this should not lead us to an outright rejection of the sentiment. Let us hear some others address the subject. The men I have cited are just that--men. But they bring before us a perspective nearly entirely forgotten in 21st century American evangelicalism. We would do well to listen and thoughtfully consider what they say.

Religious Affections Radio officially launches

Scott Aniol received a donation to his website last year and, instead of buying his long desired Ipod, decided to use it to start an internet radio station, Religious Affections Radio.

I am very happy that Scott has started this station. I have wanted to do something like this for quite some time, so I asked him if I could help, and I was able to help him get the station going.

The station is nothing elaborate--simply streaming music. All of it is religious, and varies from J. S. Bach to King's College Choir to Soundforth (I really gave Scott a hard time about putting "BJ stuff" on the station, and tried everything I could to persuade him otherwise). The station is run through Live365, which means that you will either have to subscribe to what they call their "VIP membership," or put up with really annoying commercials. The advantage to membership is that you will then have access to all the Live365 stations without commercials. The disadvantage is that it costs some money.

We have been pretty picky with most of the music selected for this station. The most "edgy" we get is some John Rutter and the most corny we get is some Soundforth, though all of the selections from both of these sources were made critically. Unfortunately, we do not have much sacred music sung in foreign languages, which eliminates much of the greatest sacred music written for the Western church.

Nevertheless, I have been listening quite a bit to the new station, and enjoy it a great deal. For someone who listens regularly to Internet audio, this station will be a welcome respite. Serious sacred music was very hard to find in this format with very poor offerings available. If you enjoy the station, I would encourage your donating to it. I know that this will not be free for Scott to operate, and the station's existence may very well depend on small donations from its few listeners.

I Love My God

by Jeanne Marie de la Motte-Guyon (1648-1717), translator unknown, taken from The Christian Book of Mystical Verse, edited by A. W. Tozer (Harrisburg, PA: Christian Publications, 1963).

I love my God, but with no love of mine,
For I have none to give;
I love thee, Lord; but all the love is Thine,
For by thy life I live.
I am as nothing, and rejoice to be
Emptied, and lost, and swallowed up in Thee.

Thou, Lord, alone, art all Thy children need,
And there is none beside;
From Thee the streams of blessedness proceed
In Thee the blest abide, --
Fountain of life, and all-abounding grace,
Our source, our center, and our dwelling place.

On morality and the limits of Scripture (Part 2)

I am concerned with these two posts to establish both the limits of Scripture and the truthfulness of our conclusions we make outside of Scripture. On Thursday, I limply tried to establish that there are limits to the questions we should ask of Scripture. For example, we do not ask the Bible how we should lose weight, for the Bible does not intend to address that question. Moreover, to assume that the Bible's lack of a condemnation towards some activity you happen to enjoy justifies the activity is an argument from silence, for the Bible does not commend that activity to you either. This is both a faulty understanding of the nature of the Scriptures (since it is not a comprehensive legal guide to the Christian life) and a misunderstanding of what is good. We are to prove what is good and what is evil, I insisted.

But what about the truthfulness of what we prove? As I asked in part 1, "Do we impose a "second book of authority" when we insist that there is truth outside yet derived (secondarily) from the Scriptures? To be sure, the Bible must play a role in determining the morality of our actions. But what about when it does not explicitly address our cultural particulars? Can we be sure? Can we assume that our conclusions are truth?"

The contemporary world has become global, and so we are met with what seems to be myriad ways of looking at reality. To be certain, our exposure to other cultures and other cultural expressions should give us pause before blindly accepting the validity of our own. But this is not to say that every individual or culture reigns sovereign. I believe that we must reject cultural relativity.

But the point here is not to attack cultural relativity (perhaps on a different day I will try to climb that mountain), but to offer that truth outside the Scriptures exists--that we can reach certain conclusions and that our convictions about things we have concluded from the Bible are true. My favorite proof of extra-Biblical truth is the Greek word homoousios.

Theology is closely related to ethics in a number of ways. For conservative evangelicals, theology begins with the foundational things you have been taught in Sunday school and by the sermons you heard at church (or by watching Sesame Street or wherever else you got your theology), which is then (hopefully) corrected or substantiated by the Bible. The evangelical method for determining ethics closely resembles our method for theology. They are both "Biblically based." But ethics, like theology, is in large part a "second order" discipline. Every evangelical says he believes the Bible. But the immediate question following is What does the Bible say? By the way, this is in large part why creeds (a.k.a. "doctrinal statements) and church covenants are so important. When someone adheres to a summary of doctrine (creed) or practice (church covenant), we better know what he believes. We can compare his doctrine and practice with our own. We can see where his differs from ours and where they are alike.

Creeds and covenants are not first order sources for theology, The Holy Scripture is. I view theology as primarily teaching--taking the Scriptures and communicating it to the church. Again, theology is a second-order discipline, whereby the Scriptures are taken and applied to contradict certain false teaching (negatively) or to articulate and summarize and systematize the Christian teachings found in the Bible (positively).

When we use the "rapture," we are using it with reference to an understanding of the Bible's teaching concerning a particular point of eschatology. When we use the word "inerrancy," we are again making theological deductions about the Bible based on its own teachings. The Bible never uses the word "rapture" or "inerrancy." Although the Scriptures teach inerrancy, nowhere do they give a nice tidy "doctrine of inerrancy." Yet we must believe the truth of inerrancy. When we confront what seem to be problem texts that do not neatly mesh with our system, we can change our pre-existing system, but we also sometimes bring our current system to bear on the text, which in turn informs how we understand the way that text coheres with our system. Of course, the goal for every conservative evangelical theology is conformity with the text of Scripture.

So it goes with the homoousios. What does homoousios mean? This is a Greek word that was crucial to the early church's articulation of the Trinity. Roughly, it means "the same essence," and was spoken of Christ against the moderate sect's similar word, homoiousios "the similar or like essence." Jesus Christ is of the same essence or nature or substance as the Father. As the Nicene Creed says,

We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
the only Son of God,
eternally begotten of the Father,
God from God, Light from Light,
true God from true God,
begotten, not made,
of one Being with the Father.

If Christ is of a different substance, then he is not truly God. If he was made by the Father (and not eternally begotten), then he is of a different substance. This word demonstrates that we can and should make theological pronouncements that not explicitly found in the Scriptures. We believe the historic doctrine of the Trinity, and declare that it is the true teaching of the Scriptures, even though some of their words and summaries, like homoousios, are not explicitly found in Scripture. In a certain sense, they are as true as the Scriptures, because they accurately summarize the teaching of the Scriptures. If they were not the correct teaching of Scriptures, we should reject them. Yet if they are, then we should believe them with all our heart. Christian churches throughout history have accepted the Nicene creed as the orthodox teaching of the Bible. In fact, this Trinitarian teaching was to a certain extent a reaction to teaching which was not Biblical, namely that of Arius and others.

So we believe the truthfulness of certain things that are outside the explicit address of Scriptures. And just as this is true for theology, it is true in the realm of ethics and morality. For example, I believe that abortion is immoral. How do I know this? In part from my understanding of Scriptures, and (in part) from my understanding of what abortion is. My having a correct understanding of abortion is essential to my making accurate conclusions about the morality of it.

This is not to say that we somehow hold the conceived truthfulness of our theology or our moral conclusions like some immovable stalwart. Humility is essential, for if we recognize that it is possible for other persons to err (since they don't agree with us!), then we should recognize that it is possible for us to error. Particularly when we determining ethics and morality, we should always be studying, always "proving" (1 Thess 5:21-22), and always seeking to better understand ourselves and the nature of things. This can only be done when we fuse the horizons of different "cultures" (those who hold differing theologies, mores, and ethics) with our own. Hopefully their eyes will help confirm what we already understand, but also give us a perspective as to the shortcomings of our own milieu. This is what Jonathan Edwards and Augustine and Calvin and Anslem and the Cappadocian fathers and Bach (!) have done for me--they have shown me a different kind of Christian world, one that critiques my own American fundamentalist/evangelical setting (while I am inevitably critiquing theirs).

All this is to say that when we are convinced that some doctrine or practice is the Biblical teaching on the subject, we should believe it to be truth. We are not preaching an easy road to truth, yet we are condemning the philosophies propagated that any "second order" theology or ethics are in the end unknowable. Just because there is some degree of agnosticism does not mean that we cannot know. Nor should we say that just because an issue is not taught explicitly in the Bible that it is not as important, or somehow relegated as an issue simply of "Christian liberty." In my view, homoousios and inerrancy and abortion are not matters of "Christian liberty." They are in essence the Biblical teaching on their respective subjects. There are other second order teachings and practices (the rapture, church government, smoking, whether or not someone has cable) that similarly represent the Biblical teaching, but may not be as crucial to the faith as these other doctrines. Nevertheless, they are still important, and equally represent the Bible's teaching on that given subject as we understand it. Although my point is not to discuss Christian liberty, let me say that the main principle of Christian liberty seems to be how we treat brothers who are prone to building their Christian ethics simply off the influence of others, simply taking as their own what other people embrace or shun. Finally, weighing the importance of the doctrines is very important in this whole discussion. Paul says eating meat should not be judged (because God will judge that person), but he calls the person who neglects to care for his widowed mother "worse than an infidel."

In conclusion, I have tried to establish that both theology and mores are both second-order disciplines, summarizing the truths of and deriving their truthfulness from the Word of God. I believe that we should consider these teachings and practices to be the truth though with humility. Moreover, we should not banish all such "second-order" statements and beliefs to the realm of relativity simply because the Bible does not teach them explicitly. Thus our Christian life should be lived understanding the tension between the limits of what the Bible explicitly teaches and the truthfulness of our conclusions of how we apply what it does teach to our faith and practice.

On morality and the limits of Scripture (Part 1)

While the Bible is the sufficient word of God, we should not try to make it address every question life poses. Lately I have been more and more encountering those who try to make the Bible speak to things it does not. But not only this, a more prominent idea being thrown around out there is a kind of quasi-relativism, where if the Bible does not speak to the issue, we can not and should not make with any certainty any statements whatsoever.

First, this is a logical error, and to a certain extent, it shows the epistemological crisis within many evangelical circles. The Bible has been (correctly) the ground for the all the doctrines of the faith. It is our primary source for all the orthodox teachings of the Christian faith (more on this later). But this emphasis has resulted in no small amount of confusion concerning the nature of truth outside the revealed Word of God.

The truth is that there is truth that man can apprehend outside the Scriptures. In fact, the Bible in several places tells us to work at determining this truth. 1 Thessalonians 5:21-22 says, "But test everything; hold fast what is good, abstain from every form of evil." Some believe that this refers to the prophesying mentioned in verse 20, but I do not believe so. The conjunction could be connecting the previous idea, but it could also be a mere casual addition of a new element to the list. The point, I believe, is that Paul wanted the Thessalonian church to prove what is right and what is wrong. I have written more on the importance of this theme in the New Testament elsewhere. When these things are proven, they are true.

This is not to say that proving what is right and wrong in certain situations is always easy. Nor I am saying that we always know "without a shadow of a doubt" that what we have proven is the Truth. Sometimes there is a great deal of doubt. If we doubt, we should not partake in the activity. Paul makes that much clear in Romans 14:23. The "high road" is better in these situations.

Therefore when someone asks for a "chapter and verse" to say that Christian contemporary worship is anti-worship, they error on a couple fronts. First, they bring an inconsistent standard into the conversation. I might as well ask them to give a "chapter and verse" that contemporary worship is good worship.

But more importantly, they misunderstand the nature of Scriptures. The Bible is not a rule book intending to give regulations for every possible activity that will come up. In fact, the Bible itself tells us to prove the rightness or wrongness of things.

As I said, usually in debates concerning whether questions are right or wrong, the test demanded is "what is wrong with it?" But the underlying assumption here is as dangerous as the absurdity of the question. For to ask "what is wrong with it" assumes that the adherent of the activity believes the practice to be good. This only leads to an equally important question: why is it good? I believe that we should be working as best we know how to prove not only the immorality of actions, but the morality of actions as well. We should not only be able to show why what we do not do is evil, but why what we do do is good.

I would like to return, though, to the question of the truthfulness of our conclusions. Do we impose a "second book of authority" when we insist that there is truth outside yet derived (secondarily) from the Scriptures? To be sure, the Bible must play a role in determining the morality of our actions. But what about when it does not explicitly address our cultural particulars? Can we be sure? Can we assume that our conclusions are truth?

I will conclude with these questions tomorrow.

Richard Weaver agrees with me

After posting Tuesday's piece, "Christian goes to the movies," I found this quote. It is rather comforting when you find that someone like Richard Weaver agrees with you, particularly when you made the statements before referencing him. What this actually shows is that he is probably the source of the original "seed thought" for the post, though I read him a few years ago. This remark from Ideas Have Consequences (Chicago: University of Chicago, 1948) must have incubated in my mind since I first read it:

"We need not speak of the enormous influence of this synoptic depiction of life [the motion picture] upon children and adolescents. That is a point concerning reticences and proprieties toward different classes of persons; our interest is rather in the deleterious effects of movie-going upon even adult mentalities that find satisfaction in it. That the public as a whole misses the issue of the motion picture's influence can be seen from its attitude toward censorship. For what the public is reconciled to seeing censored are just the little breaches of decorum which fret bourgeois respectability and sense of security. The truth is that these are so far removed from the heart of the problem that they could well be ignored. The thing that needs to be censored is not the length of kisses [!] but the egotistic, selfish, and self-flaunting hero; not the relative proportion of undraped breast but the flippant, vacuous-minded, and also egotistic heroine. Let us not worry about the jokes of dubious propriety; let us rather object to the whole story, with it complacent assertion of the virtues of materialist society. We are speaking here, of course, from the fundamental point of view. A censorship of the movies, to be worthy of the name, would mean a complete reinterpretation of most of their themes, for the belief which underlie virtually every movie story are precisely the ones which are hurrying us on to perdition. The entire globe is becoming imbued with the notion that there is something normative about the insane sort of life lived in New York and Hollywood--even after that life has been exaggerated to suit the morbid appetite of the thrill seeker" (100-101).

Christian goes to the movies

I am painfully aware that the current fad among young evangelicals and, more and more, among young fundamentalists is not to criticize movies. How doth the argument typically go? Something about how any protest against movies is pure legalism or whatnot. After all, even Touchstone and World magazines have movie reviews! And what is the difference between going to a movie theater and watching a DVD/VHS movie in your living room? Well, actually that is a good question for those who insist on a dichotomy between the two. But I typically resist such dialectical revolutions of cultural norms. Anyway, I am quickly digressing into incoherence.

My main grievance is the naive (pardon my French) approach of many Christians to the movies. I am now speaking of the test of the Great Three exerted by Christians upon movies:

1. No female nudity or sex.
2. No swearing--er, at least no "using the Lord's name in vain."
3. "Not too bad" violence.

Yes, there they are--the "holy three" of movie standards. Yes, good Christian, if the movie passes this great and reverent test, the movie is good. Of course, if the movie is "really, really good," then we can perhaps ignore one or two of these precious (and, oh, so legalistic) standards. As if these are the only elements of danger for believers! What about irreverence or the idea of tolerance? What about sentimentalism (loving the wrong things too much) or brutality (loving the right things too little)? Are these elements not present in the vast majority of the films being belched up by the world? Let me let you in on a secret: movies do not become good simply because you have "Curse-Free TV."

O, yes, I hear the objection: but after you watch it, then you can "talk about" those negative elements. Sure. Whatever. Talk all you want. Which is more persuasive: your debunking all these ideas by "talking through them" or your entering into the story and its supporting world-view with your whole person, allowing the art to communicate to you as it is intended while you sit there passively taking it all in? Perhaps I am proposing a false dilemma; but my point here is rhetorical. Why do we believe that we can escape this? Perhaps we really do not understand the power of movies.

You see, most Christians really worship on Friday night. That is the apex of their week. They have given themselves over to the working the entire week, probably working too much (you have to make a living, don't you know), and so they finally get to "unwind" and "take in a good movie." This is their escape. This is their joy and delight. Movies are their way of worshiping the Entertainment Deity. And now they poor themselves into their rite, complete with libations (soda pop) and meal offerings (popcorn). And they completely let go. This, after all, is the real power of movies. For one to watch a movie as it was intended to be watched, one must give himself over to it, and allow himself to be swept away. He must enter into the lie. The greater the lie, the greater the movie. And how do we know the movie is good and "harmless"? As long as it meets the standard of the Almighty Three. And here, while our guard is most down (we already know it's a good movie--remember the test?), the world comes in unawares and subtly convinces us of its moorings. You see, "the Great Three" is really simply a surface danger; I believe the real danger lies below, and, because it comes in so subtly, Christians are more prone to fall prey to these underhanded elements. To a certain extent, I am not even talking about anti-Christian themes like adultery or gambling. I am speaking about world-views. The real danger of movies is not at looking at a naked woman, but the redefinition of modesty. The greater danger of movies is not the actors' taking "the Lord's name in vain," but arrogant disbelief. The violence of movies is nothing compared with the idea that it is cruel to execute a murderer. These things are more dangerous, because they are more subtly present. And we wonder why the church is worldly.

The American Evangelical-Patriotic-Hallmark Church Calendar

Yesterday my church honored "Sanctity of Life Sunday." The sermon and Scripture reading were both about the importance of life in the face of abortion in the United States. It appears that my church did it a week early. I have no idea who invented "Sanctity of Life Sunday," determined its date, or anything, which is part of the reason why I am struck that we observe this holy day. I do not necessarily have a problem with honoring "Sanctity of Life Sunday," but it makes me to wonder what causes churches like mine from shunning so much of the church calendar. When I say this, I hope the reader will not take this as some kind of rant against my church's leadership; I love my pastors and pray for them.

The circles I run in (not just my church) seem to be rather inconsistent with respect to the observance of holy days. While days like Trinity Sunday, Lent, Maundy Thursday, Epiphany, and so forth are not observed, other days like Mother's Day, the Fourth of July, Christmas, and so forth are observed. How did we go to the point where we embraced this "American Evangelical-Patriotic-Hallmark Church Calendar"? We have days like "Pastors' Day," but we do essentially nothing on Reformation Sunday.

I suppose that there could be at least two responses to my remarks. One may want to defend the status quo, but to this individual I would simply observe that it seems somewhat inconsistent to embrace an ad hoc calendar fusing the sacred and the secular, while excluding the calendar of traditional Christianity.

Another response would be to eliminate holy days altogether. To a certain extent, I am sympathetic to this approach. Pauls says in Col 2:16-17, "Therefore let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink, or with regard to a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath. These are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ" (ESV). Unless I am reading this passage wrong, I would say that this is a warning against mandating any observance of holy days. We should not feel guilty if we decide not to observe a particular holy day. Yet, at the same time, I would encourage us to consider adopting more of the church calendar (Kevin Bauder also argues for this here). The principle is this: someone will be planning your church's liturgy on any given Sunday. This person is a man (not God). Thus, we may conclude that the origin of your liturgy is from man. Likewise, certain men developed the church calendar over time. It is difficult to see why implementation of the church calendar (which has been used by some Baptists, by the way) is in itself evil. There may be certain circumstances wherein your church may shy away from the church calendar (like a large converted Catholic contingency), but by and large it serves to help the local church reflect on the life of Jesus Christ and certain key doctrines and figures throughout the year in a systematic way. The church calendar also seems to have with it a large amount of Scripture reading for the public worship, and most fundamentalist churches with which I am familiar could use a good bit more of that as well.

My God, My God, And Can it Be

This hymn is by Fredrick W. Faber. I know it to the tune NEWBURY from Hymns Ancient & Modern: Shortened Music Edition (London: William Clowes and Sons, 1939).

My God! my God! and can it be
That I should sin so lightly now,
And think no more of evil thoughts
Than of the wind that waves the bough?

I sin, and Heav’n and earth go round,
As if no dreadful deed were done;
As if Thy blood had never flowed
To hinder sin, or to atone.

I walk the earth with lightsome step,
Smile at the sunshine, breathe the air,
Do my own will, nor ever heed
Gethsemane and Thy long prayer.

Shall it be always thus, O Lord?
Wilt Thou not work this hour in me
The grace Thy Passion merited,
Hatred of self, and love of Thee!

O by the pains of Thy pure love,
Grant me the gift of holy fear;
And by Thy woes and bloody sweat
Wash Thou my guilty conscience clear!

Ever when tempted, make me see,
Beneath the olives’ moon pierced shade,
My God, alone, outstretched, and bruised,
And bleeding, on the earth He made;

And make me feel it was my sin,
As though no other sins there were,
That was to Him Who bears the world
A load that He could scarcely bear.

The problem of evil

Every once in a while you attempt to articulate something and fail so miserably that you wonder if anything is going on in your head. Usually these displays of cogitive impotence are when the stakes are highest. Thus when you confront theologians (who do call themselves Augustinian but seem to resemble Arminians) who do not want to acknowledge that God has for his glory ordained by his providence the sin committed by moral agents, the reason given for embracing this doctrine being that you would not want to tell grieving people of this truth, you get especially frustrated with your inability to dice this kind of theology up. So you go read Calvin, and everything gets better very quickly. Order and beauty and the glory of God are restored to the world; providence is displayed, and you are invigorated to go and preach the good tidings of God's sovereignty to all people--or until you fail again.

Here are some conclusions I have reaffirmed:
1) God is sovereign in the world. If God has by his own pleasure seen fit to orchestrate and cause the death of his Son (Acts 2:23; 4:27), the world's ultimate evil, why should we shy away from attributing lesser evils to him? Not only is the crucifixion of Jesus attributed to the foreordination of God, but the Bible attributes countless such instances. I found that Wayne Grudem laid out all such passages in a very helpful fashion on pp 323-27. Although Job recognized that God is the ultimate cause for these things, for him "to blame God for evil that he had brought about through secondary agents would have been to sin. Job does not do this, Scripture never does this, and neither should we" (Systematic Theology [Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1994], 325).

2) The relationship between these moral actions we commit for which we are responsible and the sovereign providence of God is inscrutable. We affirm that we are responsible for our willing actions, and that we are guilty for our sin, and we affirm that God is sovereign.

3) God uses all things for his glory. I am not sure how someone can take any comfort in a universe over which God is not providentially controlling all events. What emotional duress is alleviated by our denying God's involvement? If God is not responsible for the evil actions of men, why doesn't he stop them from committing the act when he sees it coming? Why does he still allow it to happen? How does God's merely allowing men to act "freely" better solve the problem of theodicy? In the framework I am advocating, God is ordaining the event to be done for his glory. In the other framework, God is allowing the men to act "freely," and knows that the event will be done (with some kind of "middle knowledge"), but does nothing to stop it. To say that God caused the death of a loved one gives us hope in this One we trust and love that he is control, and has worked all things for the good them that love him and are called according to his purpose.

4) God hardens men by removing the influences (i.e., common grace, the Spirit) that were preventing them from sinning to great extents. God's act of hardening is not a positive act. Jonathan Edwards articulates this well:

He hath mercy on some, and hardeneth others. When God is here spoken of as hardening some of the children of men, it is not to be understood that God by any positive efficiency hardens any man's heart. There is no positive act in God, as though he put forth any power to harden the heart. To suppose any such thing would be to make God the immediate author of sin. God is said to harden men in two ways: by withholding the powerful influences of his Spirit, without which their hearts will remain hardened, and grow harder and harder; in this sense he hardens them, as he leaves them to hardness. And again, by ordering those things in his providence which, through the abuse of their corruption, become the occasion of their hardening. Thus God sends his word and ordinances to men which, by their abuse, prove an occasion of their hardening ("God's Sovereignty in the Salvation of Men").

5) If man's "free will" were really the ultimate determination of the events of the world, they would be in control, not God. Calvin says, "Because we know that the universe was established especially for the sake of mankind, we ought to look for this purpose in his goverance also" (Institutes I.XVI.6 [LCC XX; John T. McNeill, ed.; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1960], 204). In other words, if nature is determined by God (and we must affirm this, despite the protests of science), why not man as well, since the world was made for him? Calvin continues, "Let them now say that man is moved by God according to the inclination of his nature, but that he himself turns that motion whither he pleases. Nay, if that were truly said, the free choice of his ways would be in man's control" (Ibid, 204). He cites Jer 10:23, Prov 20:24 and Prov 16:9 as examples of the ways of man "choice and determination" being ascribed to God.

6) We should still pray and plan and take precautions. Calvin cites Prov 16:9, "Man's heart plans his way, but the Lord will direct his steps," and again helps us understand this phenomenon:

"This means that we are not at all hindered by God's eternal decrees either from looking ahead for ourselves or from putting all our affairs in order, but always in submission to his will. The reason is obvious. For he who has set the limits to our life has at the same time entrusted to us its care; he has provided means and helps to preserve it; he has also made us able to foresee dangers; that they may not overwhelm us unaware, he has offered precautions and remedies" (Institutes I.XVII.4, 216).

Finally, I offer one more summary articulation of the doctrine by Calvin to conclude these thoughts:

"We do not, with the Stoics, contrive a necessity out of the perpetual connection and intimately related series of causes, which is contained in nature; but we make God the ruler and governor of all things, who in accordance with his wisdom has from the farthest limit of eternity decreed what he was going to do, and now by his might carries out what he has decreed. From this we declare that not only heaven and earth and the inanimate creatures, but also the plans and intentions of men, are so governed by his providence that they are borne by it straight to their appointed end" (Institutes I.XVI.8, 207).

Lints has it right (I think)

The fourth chapter of Richard Lints' The Fabric of Theology* addresses the “trajectory of theology,” or the development of revelation and, ultimately, theology through time. He begins by addressing the culture, the influence of culture on our understanding of revelation, and how to move forward communicating God’s revelation ourselves in the midst of culture. The Christian faith is passed on to generation after generation, and with each new generation the faith must be defended against the errors that are levied against it by that generation’s non-Christian culture. Unfortunately, this has become somewhat difficult in light of the abandonment of tradition by both “antitraditionalism” (liberalism) and “antitraditional traditionalism” (American evangelicalism).

In discussing the “antitraditional traditionalism” of evangelicalism, Lints has one of his most illuminating passages in the book (91-96). He notes that evangelicalism has developed to their current state because of the emphasis on 1) inductive interpretation of the Bible divorced from any coherent tradition, 2) the parachurch identity which minimized theological and denominational distinctives, and 3) an ahistorical piety, uniformed by the Christian past. Concerning the trend of the "private Bible" in contemporary evangelicalism, he writes, "The Bible becomes captive to the whims of the individual freed from external constraints, and in such a situation the individual can imagine the text to say whatever he or she wants it to say" (93). The effect of the "parachurch church" culture in evangelicalism is one of theological reduction in its organization around evangelical "essentials," and even its defense of those essentials. This parachurch trend inevitably results in much of evangelicalism severing itself from theological traditions. In other words, in attempting to articulate that evangelicalism has a core, the tendency is to diminish the importance of other doctrine. Finally, Lints criticizes the effects of "temporal piety" in evangelicalism, lamenting, "The classics of evangelical devotional literature stretch back no further than 1952 [!] with the publication of C. S. Lewis' Mere Christianity. . . . They have convinced themselves that every important thing has happened in the present century and every important book (excepting the Bible, of course) has been written in their own lifetime" (95-96).

Noting the present cultural state, he convincingly demonstrates that culture does serve as a lens that can often distort theology. Yet, Lints says, “The theologian’s hope lies not in an ability to remove our cultural blinders so that we might see God but in the power of God to break through our cultural blinders and thereby enable us to see ourselves more clearly by the radiance of his glory” (106). Lints believes that cultures can “communicate beyond their barriers” (104), and that God himself communicates across cultural frameworks. Yet the theologian should be aware of his cultural predilections, particularly as he moves from exegesis to doctrine. A similar truth holds for the evangelical perspective of the use of reason. A both native and cultural rationale exist in man, and we should appeal as much as we can to this reason, complex as it may be, with our theology and articulations of the gospel. “We must seek to ensure,” Lints concludes, “that cultural expressions in the theological framework always remain open to correction by the Scriptures themselves. The framework of the Scriptures must take precedence over the cultural expressions of that framework” (135).

*Lints, Richard. The Fabric of Theology: A Prolegomenon to Evangelical Theology. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993.

A Lutheran discusses the Gospel and the Ordination of Women

I really really shouldn't be doing this, as I am in the midst of a class with Dr. Bauder, all the while earnestly preparing for a new class to begin on Wednesday. But this one is a bit difficult not to share, and it is a quote, so it is relatively easy to put up (and it has been a few days since my last post).

David P. Scaer writes the chapter, "How do Lutherans 'Do Theology' in Today's World?" in the book Doing Theology in Today's World (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991). In it, he discusses the way the ordination of women relates to the gospel. I found it pretty interesting, particularly in light of some other conversations we have been having here Immoderate.

"How Lutheran theology is done today on the basis of the Scriptures and the Gospel principle can be seen in the case of the ordination of women as pastors, a practice that most Lutherans accept, but which under careful examination contradicts both the scriptural and the Christological principle in Lutheran theology. Paul's prohibitions against women's preaching should logically bring one to the conclusion that women should not be ordained as pastors. The argument could go something like this: (1) Since women may not preach, only men may, (2) Ordination is reserved for those who preach. (3) Therefore, only men, and not women, should be ordained as preachers. This argument is clearly valid, but Lutherans know that the Christological principle is the necessary foundation on which such argumentation must be constructed. Without it, theology remains biblicistic, i.e., citing passages without reference to the Gospel, and not necessarily Lutheran. A women who preaches the word and distributes the sacraments in Christ's stead distorts the image of the Incarnation for the congregation and thus misrepresents him, even if her message should in all points be doctrinally correct. A women standing the place of Christ distorts the image of him as God's Son and in turn of God as the Father. Her appropriating the office to herself gives a false impression of Christ to the congregation and contradicts her message--assuming that is a correct preaching of the Gospel. When the Gospel is damaged (perhaps fundamentally), it no longer functions as the norm of theology. The Gospel does not allow her, if we dare speak like this, to be a pastor. A woman functioning in the role of a pastor conflicts with the truth of the Gospel that the Son of the Father became incarnate in the man Jesus. Where the Incarnation is denied by a visible contradiction (a woman as pastor), the Gospel is also denied" (213-214).

I, of course, would hesitate to embrace all the Scaer argues here. But when we think about the importance of certain issues, particularly as they relate to the Gospel, this, I think, is a thought-provoking example of how we should do it.

D. A. Carson on exegesis

This is pretty good (although I think his word choice is poor at the end):

"If the Bible is nothing less than God's gracious self-disclosure, then as important as it is to understand it on its own terms it must surely be no less important to respond to God as he has disclosed himself. Can the exegesis that is formally 'correct' on this or that point but is not cast in terms of adoration, faith, obedience be at heart sound? I do not mean that scholars must wear their faith on their sleeves or parade their piety each time they take up their pen. On all kinds of technical and disputed points the most dispassionate weighing of evidence is necessary. But is such work cast in the matrix of scholarship devoted in thought (and therefore in form) to serve the God whose revelation is being studied? To put the matter rather crudely, is there not an important responsibility to ask, each time I put pen at paper, whether what I write pleases the God of Scripture, the God of all truth, rather than worry about how my academic colleagues will react? Is exegesis perennially devoid of such flavor genuinely faithful exegesis? Now if such exegetical work is possible, it will flow out of lives that have experienced God, that have been struck with the awesomeness of his holiness, melted with the depth of his love, moved by the condescension of his compassion, thrilled by the prospect of knowing him better."

D. A. Carson, "The Role of Exegesis in Theology," in Doing Theology in Today's World: Essays in Honor of Kenneth S. Kantzer, (ed. John D. Woodbridge and Thomas Edward McComiskey; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991), 67-68.

Jonathan Edwards on deification

It does not appear that Jonathan Edwards was a big fan of deification. He says in Religious Affections,

Thus not only the manner of the relation of the Spirit, who is the operator, to the subject of his operations, is different; as the Spirit operates in the saints, as dwelling in them, as an abiding principle of action, whereas he doth not so operate upon sinners; but the influence and operation itself is different, and the effect wrought exceeding different. So that not only the persons are called spiritual, as having the Spirit of God dwelling in them; but those qualifications, affections, and experiences, that are wrought in them by the Spirit, are also spiritual, and therein differ vastly in their nature and kind from all that a natural man is or can be the subject of, while he remains in a natural state; and also from all that men or devils can be the authors of. It is a spiritual work in this high sense; and therefore above all other works is peculiar to the Spirit of God. There is no work so high and excellent; for there is no work wherein God doth so much communicate himself, and wherein the mere creature hath, in so high a sense a participation of God; so that it is expressed in Scripture by the saints "being made partakers of the divine nature," 2 Pet. 1:4, and "having God dwelling in them, and they in God," 1 John 4:12, 15, 16, and chap. 3:21; "and having Christ in them," John 17:21, Rom. 8:10; "being the temples of the living God," 2 Cor. 6:16; "living by Christ's life," Gal. 2:20; "being made partakers of God's holiness," Heb. 12:10; "having Christ's love dwelling in them," John 17:26; "having his joy fulfilled in them," John 17:13; "seeing light in God's light, and being made to drink of the river of God's pleasures," Psal. 36:8, 9; "having fellowship with God, or communicating and partaking with him (as the word signifies)," 1 John 1:3. Not that the saints are made partakers of the essence of God, and so are godded with God, and christed with Christ, according to the abominable and blasphemous language and notions of some heretics: but, to use the Scripture phrase, they are made partakers of God's fullness, Eph. 3:17, 18, 19, John 1:16, that is, of God's spiritual beauty and happiness, according to the measure and capacity of a creature; for so it is evident the word fullness signifies in Scripture language. Grace in the hearts of the saints, being therefore the most glorious work of God, wherein he communicates of the goodness of his nature, it is doubtless his peculiar work, and in an eminent manner above the power of all creatures. And the influences of the Spirit of God in this, being thus peculiar to God, and being those wherein God does, in so high a manner, communicate himself, and make the creature partaker of the divine nature (the Spirit of God communicating itself in its own proper nature); this is what I mean by those influences that are divine, when I say that "truly gracious affections do arise from those influences that are spiritual and divine."

This is a difficult thing for Dr Edwards to say. I am trying to figure this doctrine out right now, and his calling these kinds "heretics" gives me more pause. He believes that in our "partaking of the divine nature," God has communicated himself, and the goodness of his nature in particular. I cannot help but notice that he does not cite the passage that most opened me to the "Orthodox" view, Col 2:9-10: "For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him, who is the head of all rule and authority" (ESV [οτι εν αυτω κατοικει παν το πληρωμα της θεοτητος σωματικως και εστε εν αυτω πεπληρωμενοι ος εστιν η κεφαλη πασης αρχης και εξουσιας ]).

Notice the striking repitition of the πληρω- words here. All the "fullness [πληρωμα] of the Godhead" dwells bodily in Christ, and then comes the haunting words: you have been "filled" [πεπληρωμενοι] in him.

I still have a lot of questions, and I repudiate the Mormon idea that we become "gods." But in some way we share in the fullness in which Christ himself shares. I don't know what that way is, and I am not terribly anxious to try to articulate it specifically. But I am open to the idea that, as the Apostle Peter reminds us, we have "become partakers of the divine nature" (2 Pet 1:4 (ESV) [γενησθε θειας κοινωνοι φυσεως]).

American Evangelicalism has issues (TBN)

I kept hearing on the news that last night's college football national championchip was supposed to be a "really good game," so I decided to watch some television "while I read my book" for a class I have coming up (listen, we all need down time, right?). Well, between plays (sometimes sports lose my attention), I decided to venture over to my favorite station, TBN. This provided more proof that American evangelicalism has issues.

First, they had an advertisement for a new "Christian reality" show that they're putting together called "Gifted." I think this is based on the popular "American Idol." Too bad they didn't name it "Christian Idol" instead. The advertisement had a spot with some member of the boy band "Backstreet boys" (I think it was Brian Littrell). It's nice to see that this young man could stop singing about fornication long enough to come help out a upstart Christian television program. Perhaps the best thing about "Gifted" is its name. I mean, think about it. Isn't this just what Paul meant in the Holy Scripture when he talked about our receiving gifts from the Spirit? We're the ones who are "gifted." And I think I read once in one of those "recognized your spiritual gifts books" that one of the best ways to tell that you're gifted is to go on some talent contest and win after you've danced all over the stage bellowing out some "praise to God." And isn't that the point of being gifted? I think Paul does say something like, "But earnestly desire the higher gifts." (1 Cor 12:31, ESV). You see, that's a bad translation. What he is actually trying to say here is that we should strive to find out if we are the most gifted.

The second thing I saw was an actual television program starring (I love that word in a Christian context) that great television star from the 80's or 90's (or whatever), Kirk Cameron. I think the name of the program was "Way of the Master" or something. On this program they taped Kirk or somebody (the camera wasn't on the "evangelist") trying to "soul win" out on the streets. I had a friend tell me about this once. They were video-recording this "real" on-the-street "evangelism." Now let's think about this. How would you have liked to have been video-recorded when you were confronted with the gospel? Let's say the camera was "in tight" following you as you walked down the aisle. How would you have like to have been video-recorded when someone was trying to convict you of sin? I felt like I had to turn my head or leave the room (or turn the channel!). Here is what is supposed to be one of the most intimate of all decisions, the decision upon which all of life hangs, and they are video-taping it! Can we offer these people no privacy? Being called a liar or fornicator or sinner is no great honor, why must we publically humiliate them while we do it? Sin and hell and grace and salvation are too important to be handled in this manner. And this brings me to my other point on this. Who ever acts like himself while being recorded on video? If anything, the presence of the camera makes us less prone to truthfulness or honesty--we want to put on a show (and all "reality television" is proof of this). Well, I'm glad they can provide this little experiment with these persons' souls. Then we can all learn how to evangelize in real-time.

Bruce Springsteen on rock music

"The subtext of all rock songs is 'Will you pull your pants down?'"

"Any pop song or rock song worth its salt--[frustration's] gotta be in there. . . . It is music made by frustrated people. . . . It's in everything, everything. that was one of the fundamental elements--the tools, the stones that you worked with--came out of your personal life and it also came out of the form."

So says Bruce Springsteen. But, of course, you really didn't need him to tell you this.

Some remarks on the 9-Marks interview "Cooperation in the Church"

No matter how carefully I try to word this or voice my concerns with it, I am sure that these remarks may sound like I am some kind of incipient neo-evangelical. Let me thus begin by assuring the readership that I am not. I am full five-point fundamentalist (a phrase I like to use, but has no real meaning), and have no desire to turn over any fundamentalist apple cart. I realize that even though I say this, there is the distinct possibility that my remarks below may cause me to be regarded as a nonfundamentalist, which is unfortunate. I am a fundamentalist, fully espouse separatism (even the oft maligned "secondary" sort), and would consider myself a fundamentalist patriot. Anyway. I have listened somewhat closely to the recent 9 Marks interview, Cooperation in the Church. It is a conversation between Mark Dever, J. Ligon Duncan, Al Mohler, and C. J. Mahaney on how and when evangelicals should fellowship together. I have just a few observations concerning this discussion:

1) Some evangelicals separate. I will be using the term "evangelical" to speak of those who are not "fundamentalist." Some may understand better what I mean if I were to say that these "evangelicals" are those in the lineage of the "neo-evangelicals" of Okenga, Henry, and the like. Some fundamentalists do not acknowledge that evangelicals separate. They are wrong. They should listen to this interview.

2) Some conservative evangelicals are more and more embracing "secondary separation." The irony for me is that some fundamentalists are more and more rejecting it. Dever himself names two occasions where he has separated, or "not cooperated." In an example of what some fundamentalists would call "first degree" separation, he notes that he refused to take part in an interfaith service following September 11, 2001. In an example of what some fundamentalists would call "second-degree separation," Dever says at the end of the interview that he refused to take part in an evangelistic crusade because it involved Catholics (at which point the group expressed their dismay over ECT stuff). Mohler says that he wished Baptists would again embrace their heritage of "associationalism," where pastors would personally confront other pastors they heard proclaiming error, and, if the pastor or assembly did not respond, that church would be cut off from the association. Modern evangelicalism, he laments, is not very good at this. By the way, fundamentalists are not always adept at this either.

3) Some conservative evangelicals are becoming more and more careful about cooperation. One of them, for example, (I think it was Mahaney) urged pastors to research other pastors' stand on the gospel before cooperating with them. They agreed that the persons with whom they most enjoy fellowshipping are those who hold the areas of disagreement firmly. Dever (who is a Baptist), for example, said he enjoyed fellowship with Duncan (a Presbyterian) because he knows that Duncan holds his Presbyterian convictions strongly. These kinds of individuals, who are "thick" (that must be a neo-evangelical word for "solid") on doctrinal matters, know that certain doctrines are important, even though it is a point of doctrinal disagreement.

4) The group seemed to misunderstand fundamentalism. Their critiques are probably warranted, for their exposure to fundamentalists are probably much different than the kind with whom I usually associate. Dever, for instance, gave an example of a fundamentalist deacon who was removed from his deaconate because his daughter elected to attend Liberty. I would hope that this is not the trend among fundamentalists, but these types, as we all know, are out there. Dever, though I hesitate to add this with the risk of misrepresenting him, seemed to boil fundamentalist separatism down to those who will not cooperate in evangelistic crusades. Mohler had this response to fundamentalist separatism: "That is a dying phenomenon. That is not the growth edge of conservative, gospel-loving Christianity in American. That's kind of an antiquarian remnant. So I wouldn't waste too much time worrying about it." This is a regrettable analysis, and shows a real ignorance of the fundamentalist concern with the purity of the gospel, including those who appear to be indifferent to it.

5) Some conservative evangelicals are moving away from their Neo-evangelical past. I use the term "neo-evangelical" here on purpose. Consider this exchange (slightly condensed), which I found to be terribly interesting:

Mohler: "I think the whole idea of the evangelical dream of Carl Henry and Harold John Okenga [Mark Dever adds, "Christianity Today, the National Association of Evangelicals"] in the whole period right after World War II is one of those critical points we need to go back and look at. I just have to acknowledge that Carl Henry is a mentor to me. . . . I have to admit that the evangelicals of that generation had a far too optimistic understanding of how easy it would be to stand on the gospel. And because of this, they just abdicated ecclesiology. . . . I think they saw themselves in a moment of cultural opportunity, and my thesis is that we are now in a moment of cultural crisis. . . . We are not going to be seduced by that false impression, but we can be very much seduced by things we're not seeing in our own times as the danger."

Dever: "[Local churches loving the gospel] is going to display different lives that are then going to begin to address some of those issues [of the cultural crisis]. Not a full-blown Anabaptist separatism, but it is saying that the best way we can witness to the world and the culture, or one of the best ways--an indispensable part of it and the trunk of it--is by having disciplined communities of people who are effectively demonstrating the gospel."

Mohler: "The lack of that discipline was the fatal absence in the evangelical structure. In other words, there was no way to say who was and wasn't. There still isn't any way to say who is and isn't an evangelical, and therein lies the problem."

Ligon: "In a sense, the evangelicals of that generation shared something of that dream that those that started the World Council of Churches before them shared."

6) Conservative evangelicals are not as separatist as fundamentalists. Forgive me for stating the obvious, but I need to add this for my young fundamentalist readers out there. I do not think we can yet impose upon these men the label "fundamentalist." I believe that these men would still be hesitant about separating from some of those whom most fundamentalists separate. For example, I do not believe that J. I. Packer's work in the ECT is enough pause for these men to separate from him. I would assume that they would still consider Packer "strong on the gospel" (let me reiterate that is an assumption on my part). I would have a serious problem with someone like Packer who has seen fit to damage (in my opinion) the gospel in his ECT work, even though he personally may rigidly affirm a strong conservative evangelical articulation of it and even defend it from time to time.

In summary, this interview is helpful in that it shows the times are, indeed, changing. Although there are certain trends in American evangelicalism that are troubling, it is encouraging that some are again recognizing the value of fundamentalist separatism. We should not yet try to make them into fundamentalists, but it is certainly not the 1940's anymore.