Eternal Perspectives

I had a quite remarkable conversation with a friend/brother/adversary the other day. He objected to a particular theological view I had propounded and took it upon himself to set me straight. I always – well, usually – welcome such confrontations since I am quite aware of the fact that I may be wrong on any number of my doctrinal positions. God is certainly able to use whomever He chooses to teach me: after all, He used a jackass to rebuke a prophet and He’s used me, too! So I welcomed the interaction with my critic.

[Let me stop for a second and change this present discussion a bit. Using terms like "theological position" and "theological views" has (I am convinced) some unintended and undesirable effects. Such jargon relegates our conversations to the abstract, impersonal, cerebral realm. We wind up talking about ideas and concepts rather than about a person Person. In reality, such exchanges are not about a theory that is in the process of being developed; they are about a singular Person in already in existence, He who has created all things and sustains all things, who knows all and is all-powerful, One who is full in His personality and in need of no change. God is a sentient Being who exists quite apart from our perceptions or notions about Him. In light of this, I'll change the words: instead of talking about "theology" I'm going to use the phrase "impression of God," or something like it. That is, after all, what the term theology means: theos = God and logos = word or knowledge. Since our knowledge is incomplete and partial (cf. 1 Cor 13:12 and 1 Jn 3:2 ), impression is an acceptable substitute.]

My friend began to expound on his own experience of God, arguing that what he knows of the Divine Person refutes my impression of Him. He was saying, in essence, that anyone who has really taken the time to get to know Yahweh would not view Him as I did. I wasn’t sure if he was defending a mutual Friend from what he believed to be a foolish attack or was trying to maintain his considered perception (since he obviously liked it quite a bit).

Such conflicts are not uncommon- at least for me – and we typically engage in them as though the Person about whom we are speaking is absent and/or mute. Since He isn’t here to defend Himself, we seem to be saying, “I will stand up for Him since I know Him well enough to straighten you out.”

Well, are those assumptions accurate? Is God really absent? Mute? We know, of course, that Yahweh is omnipresent (Godspeak for fully present everywhere simultaneously) and so He is actually in our midst, eavesdropping on our conversations. But why doesn’t He speak up? Well, He has spoken up: through the work of His most Holy and Sacred Spirit we have in our possession the words that God breathed out: we have the Scriptures, and the Scriptures are made alive by that same Divine Spirit who dwells within every Christian. So God is not silent and He has not left us without sufficient and adequate knowledge of Him.

But the incredible thing that my critic said – and prompted this post – was this:

I know you’ve been to seminary and have formal training in the things of God. I’m a veterinarian by training but I’m also an amateur theologian, and I have a lot of experience in the Christian life.”

That, I thought, is a profoundly dangerous thing to admit.

It says something about the disdain we have for the discipline of theology and the hubris we exude regarding our own abilities. Imagine the following scenarios:

Your pet is ill, obviously in dire need of prompt attention if it is to survive whatever ailment is besetting it. So you bring your pet to me and I say, “Well, I’m a theologian by trade but I’m also an amateur veterinarian. Let’s cut ‘im open and see what we can figure out!”

You’re being audited by the IRS and may face substantial fines or imprisonment. I learn of your plight and say, “Professionally, I’m a theologian but I’m an amateur tax attorney and having been doing my own taxes for more than forty years. Let me tell you what to do!”

An announcement comes over the PA stating that your flight has been cancelled because the pilot is drunk (again). I pop up and say, “I’ve flown hundreds of times and even been in the cockpit on many occasions. I’m a theologian, perhaps, but I’m also an amateur pilot. Let’s see what this 747 can do, eh? Hop on board!”

For some dumbfounding reason, many Christians seem to think that we are as capable and qualified to speak for God as those who have devoted their lives to the exacting study of the Scriptures and to an understanding of the inspired words of Him who watches us. Now, I put myself in the place of theologian in the preceding examples, but I am certainly not a theologian – i.e., knower of God – of the same stature as a Millard Erickson, Carl F.H. Henry, John Calvin, Douglas Moo, or C.E.B. Cranfield. Were I to enter into a discussion with the likes of, for example, D.A. Carson or Haddon Robinson, I would ask a lot of questions, make very few statements, and pray that I didn’t embarrass myself or waste their time.

It is incredible to me that we are so very careful in selecting a physician, attorney, or even someone to care for our dog but presume to think that we can be amateur authorities when it comes to understanding God and the words He has spoken to us. This leads me to a final point, which is the most disturbing and chilling for me.

Such cavalier statements reflect an attitude that says, in essence, “Sure, God is important but it’s something I can do in my spare time. He’s a fascinating hobby, you know.” Perhaps we have become a little too comfortable or friendly with the King, thinking that we can be casual chums and enjoy each others’ company when there’s time for it.

Is there anything more important than our impression of God? Anything more vital to our existence, well-being, and reason for even taking up space on this little dirt ball circling the sun? The Great King, the Most Powerful Creator of all that is, the Dying God Who Saves Us, has stooped low to allow us to get to know Him – and we approach it as a part-time avocation and speak as amateur theologians?

When I write such posts as these, I always feel compelled to add a concession to the effect that “We all have a right to study the Scriptures and we all have a right our opinions about God.” Or some such drivel. But the truth is this: Yahweh/Jesus Christ/Holy Spirit is not some incidental dimension of our lives to be treated as a small or trivial Person. He is the One with who we will all have to stand before some day, there to explain our deeds and words done during our lifetimes. He is not going to chuckle at our misrepresentations of Him or excuse us for being too busy to study more carefully.

We may have the right to our opinions, but that doesn’t make our opinions correct or valuable; we may have a right to our opinions, but we’re all going to be held responsible for them at the Judgment Seat of Jesus Christ.

God has given us His word and He has given us His servants to help us understand and know Him better. If we really believe that He is the greatest and most important Person in our lives, that seeing Him clearly is our highest calling, and that true knowledge of Him is necessary to truly glorify Him, then we will stop being so arrogant as to believe that – as a part-time, amateur theologian – we can speak dogmatically or decisively about Him. We will not treat the Scriptures as a common thing or regard our impressions of God as complete.

Not everyone needs to go to seminary, devote themselves to full-time study of the word of God, or become experts in the biblical languages. God knows that and so has given us such men and women. But we can at least have enough common sense to shut up and listen to such scholars. If we are going to disagree, say, with Moo – a first-rate exegete – over the identity of the person in Romans 7:13-25, then we had better disagree because we know that Cranfield – also a first-rate exegete – also holds a different view.

But to disagree simply because I don’t think he’s right, based only on my own amateurish understanding of the passage, is sheer arrogance and foolishness. God save us from ourselves.

Since the end of blogspotting has been (kinda) promised, I should be able to link to and identify a certain blogger without having to be concerned about appearing on a list of favorite sycophants at his site. (He admits that blogspotting fuels the endemic narcissism in the blogdom, but does it anyway; in contrast, most of us feel that narcissism is less than a good thing.) But I am a bit vigilant – not paranoid! Don’t call me paranoid!!! – and so will take some “precautions.”

At any rate, not wanting to risk showing up there despite the promise, I’ll allude to this blogger in a way that reduces the likelihood of being caught by his web. He uses (I’m sure) Google to see where his name pops up as well as (finally) Technorati, but I don’t think either of those pick up synonyms.

I am referring, of course, to the – what shall I call him? – hmmm, uh, “FireFanatic,” whose real name is something similar to “Phil Son-of-John.” Please don’t misunderstand: I have nothing against him or his website; in fact, I think he’s doing a remarkable job and has gotten off to an extremely fast start. He understands the medium well and knows how to gain a following. Good for him. My only aversion concerns blogspotting, as I have explained earlier.

Having spent so much time on a long and largely unnecessary diversion to begin this post, let me now turn to the reason I am writing. It has to do with a debate that started elsewhere but took root – or burned brightest – on the “ FlameThrower” blog. The subject concerns one of elements of the famed TULIP of Calvinism (if Calvin’s work can be fairly reduced to that), one that separates those of a Reformed conviction from others who also might regard themselves as Calvinistic in their theology (such as myself).

Limited Atonement – alse called “Particular Atonement” or “Particular Redemption” – is the belief that the substitutionary death of Jesus Christ did not atone for the sins of all people of all time but only for those who have been chosen by God in eternity past. Those who believe in Unlimited Atonement are sometimes charged with not understanding the nature of the atonement, with preaching universalism, with denying election, with denying the sovereignty of God, or any combination of the above. There are likely other charges, too, that are brought against those of us “outside the camp,” but the preceding are sufficient for now.

I am not going to argue for my position in this post but will instead plead for some respect and acceptance for those of us who disagree with Reformed dogma. I have encountered comments and statements implying that people such as I do not understand the atonement or don’t understand election or don’t understand the implications of Unlimited Atonement (thus saying that they understand my position even if I don’t).

Now, I certainly don’t know everything there is to know about Reformed theology and I have not read all that there is to read – and Reformed theologians are, if nothing else, prolific in their writing. But I have studied and profitted quite a bit from the many Reformed writers and theologians I have read, not to mention those who taught me during my stints in seminary. I have a great deal of respect for and feel no small amount of indebtedness to these men and women, many of whom have a great deal more education and facility with Scripture than do I.

This is no less true for the many gracious Reformed bloggers who have befriended me – even going so far as to include me in the League of Reformed Bloggers! – and made me a part of the believing community. I’m thinking primarily of Tim, David, Adrian, Andy, Dory, and Milton as I write this, but I am by no means excluding others – including the BlazeBlogger.

But let’s have a little humility, huh? Let’s not pretend that all wisdom resides in Reformed theology or Dispensational theology or Arminian theology. Or that the throne of God is resident in Pittsburgh or Dallas or Asbury. Or at any other church, seminary, or parachurch organization espousing a particular doctrinal perspective.

We must all have convictions, certainly, but must also hold them gently in addition to firmly, admitting that no system of theology can do justice to all the data of Scripture. All theologies break down at various points and, when they do, we are faced with a choice: twist the Scriptures to fit our preconceived notions or – correctly – admit our limitations and move on. You’re never going to get it all correct and, if you think you have, then you have brought God down to your understanding for the sake of your peace of mind. You can’t get your mind around Him or His ways. Deal with it.

There are many things that God has told us definitively and we must not compromise these clear statements. But there are many other things that He has not seen fit to disclose to us – and may never reveal to us – and we can either fight against Him or accept our place as the created ones. He owes us nothing by way of explanation; He has already told us far more than we deserve.

So here’s my offer: don’t take cheap shots at me or others who disagree with you (regardless of your theological orientation) and I’ll stop writing posts like this. Those who are non-Reformed, non-TULIPers (or non-Dispensational, non-Arminian, non-whateverarian) are not the village idiots. We have not misunderstood what you think we have and you don’t understand our position better than we do. We just disagree, that’s all. We are responsible for our beliefs as you are for yours – but to God, not one another.

So let’s rejoice in what we do have in common – our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for starters – and not go on and on or puff ourselves up about our differences. Our only boast is in Christ, not any particular school of man-made theology. It is enough to be called by His name; we don’t need to exclude others to form our own inner circle of “we’ve-got-it-right-and-you-don’t” believers.

There are (among other verb forms) indicatives and imperatives in the Bible. We must pay attention to and believe that statements, but we need to do the commands. Accept the declarations and get busy on the orders. The Kingdom of God, I think, will be better for it.

The quote, of course, is from Ecc 12:12 and means that I’ve been tagged or memed or whatever it’s called. David at Jollyblogger was kind enough to saddle me with this task. Being sufficiently neurotic and guilt-driven, I feel compelled to respond. You can read David’s responses here.

Here are the questions; I copied them directly from David’s post. I will answer them diligently and to the best of my ability. I promise.

1. How many books have I owned?
2. What was the last book you bought?
3. What was the last book that you’ve read?
4. Name five books that have meant a lot to you.
5. Tag five people that haven’t played yet.

1. How many books have I owned?

Now, this is an interesting question, perhaps intended to fool the amateur test-taker into giving an incorrect answer. You see, all the other questions are about me but this one is not: this question asks about the questioner, “How many books have I owned?” And, as you might expect, I have no idea how many books David has owned.

Personally, I have owned 3,503 books, give or take 1,284. About ten years or so ago I gave 80-90 percent to Grace Bible Church, hoping to build up the reference section of the library. I didn’t anticipate the pastors swooping in like vultures to devour the best, leaving the library with just a fraction (maybe 9/13ths) to put on the shelves. It’s OK, though, because I wanted the books to be used more than I was using them. The downside is I sometimes have to borrow one of my own books from one of the pastors!

2. What was the last book you bought?

The last book I bought was Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview by J.P. Moreland & William Lane Craig. I haven’t had a chance to start it yet, but it seems to be the kind of book I usually enjoy. I’m looking forward to reading it sometime this summer, although it is a textbook and will likely take awhile to wade through. That’s fine: I’m in no hurry.

3. What was the last book that you’ve read?

Another trick question: it wants to know the last book I read, not the last book I finished. Since I’m a nice guy, however, I’ll answer both. The last books I read (simultaneously: two eyes, two books!) were Douglas Moo’s The Epistle to the Romans in the NICNT series and C.E.B. Cranfield’s Romans: A Shorter Commentary. Moo’s work is perhaps the best modern commentary on Romans and very thorough; Cranfield’s is a distillation of his two-volume commentary in the ICC series and provides some valuable alternatives to Moo in several places.

The last book I finished was Father, Son, & Holy Spirit by Bruce Ware. It’s short but solid and a very good resource. You can read my review of it here.

4. Name five books that have meant a lot to you.

This is difficult. I’ll list them without comment and in no particular order:

1. The Drama of the Gifted Child by Alice Miller
2. Fire in the Belly by Sam Keen
3. Decision Making and the Will of God by Gary Friessen
4. The Gospel of Mark by William Lane (NICNT series)
5. True Spirituality by Francis Schaeffer (tie)
5. Studies in the Sermon on the Mount by D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones (tie)
5. Healing the Masculine Soul by Gordon Dalbey (tie)
5. The Epistle to the Romans by Douglas Moo (tie)
5. Balancing the Christian Life by Charles Ryrie (tie)
5. Ten or twenty other books that I’m forgetting right now (tie)

5. Tag five people that haven’t played yet.

Hmm, since I don’t know who has played and who hasn’t, I’ll have to go out on a limb. OK, here’s who I’m tagging:

1. George W. Bush
2. Scot Peterson
3. Joel Osteen
4. Alice Cooper
5. Tom Cruise

Matt at Gad(d)about is wrestling with priorities and how to keep them in balance. This is a common problem for any Christian who takes his or her commitment to Christ seriously and wants to glorify Him in all aspects of life.

Like many others, Matt orders his responsibilities hierarchically:

1. God
2. Family
3. Work
4. College football

(Many here in Texas would take issue with college football being so low, but we must respect Matt’s values however confused they might be. Personally, being from Indiana, I would rank basketball quite high on such a list.)

The top three priorities that Matt identifies are usually found in that order for most evangelical Christians: God, being the source of life and power, must be first in our individual lives; our family – and within the family, the marriage – comes second as our most pressing earthly responsibility, and work – which is the will of God for us (Eph 6:6) – is third. Ministry, i.e., discharging our duties as ambassadors for Christ and members of the Body, is usually fourth on the list, followed by other responsibilities such as extended family, neighbors, social duties, etc.

On the one hand, such a list of priorities is useful in identifying various aspects of our lives and for making decisions; on the other hand, however, the list can be a source of pressure and guilt. It is hard to accomplish everything on it and there are usually more priorities than minutes in the day.

Perhaps there is another way to think of our priorities, a way that does not seem quite so imposing or feel like the sword of Damocles waiting to fall upon us. It has to do with a Lazy Susan.

For those unfamiliar with a Lazy Susan, it is (was?) a common decoration on many dining tables in the 60s and 70s. It would sit in the middle of the table with condiments, food, or whatever on it and those sitting at the table would spin it in order to reach what they needed. (As a young boy, of course, I wanted to see how fast I could spin it before things flew all over the table and my family members. Usually it would go fast enough to result in me having knots on my head from my father’s knuckles!)

I tend to look at life and my responsibilities as a Lazy Susan, with God being the holy Turntable. He has given me all the responsibilities on the Lazy Susan and it is up to me to deal with whatever one is before me at any given time. Because the wheel is in motion, my focus constantly changes according to whatever He puts in front of me.

Everything that I do is in service to Him, i.e., the Holy Lazy Susan. There is no competition between Him and my family or work or anything else: when I love my wife, do my job, or share the gospel I am worshiping and serving Him. When I pause to attend to the Lazy Susan itself (i.e., when I have devotions, pray, study, or fellowship), I am also attending to everything on the turntable. As the saying goes, “The woodsman does not waste his time when he pauses to sharpen his axe.”

Of course, I still must make decisions. Sometimes work is pressing and so is family: I have to make a choice, but it is not a moral decision, i.e., a matter of right or wrong. It is a question of counting on God to give me wisdom so that I can make a good decision. Whatever I wind up doing, however, is in service to Him. It requires faith that He’ll honor my best efforts so as to accomplish His will in my life.

Paul says that it is in God that “we live and move and exist” (Ac 17:28); that everything rests upon the Lazy Susan reflects this: nothing I do is outside of Him and everything I do is important. The simplest, most mundane activities – such as this blog, for example – is significant because it transpires in Him.

Knowing that everything is “on Him” gives me a sense of freedom along with responsibility. I move through my life with an awareness that it is all ministry, all within His plan and purposes, not outside His sphere of interest or control, and that He will give me wisdom and empower me if I will listen to and trust in Him. I do not feel pulled in several directions at the same time, trusting that God will take care of me as I take care of my responsibilities to the best of my abilitiy at that particular moment.

I make mistakes and poor choices at times, of course, but everything is still on the Lazy Susan. What I might have missed the first time will assuredly come back around in time. Getting everything done is not ultimately up to me: God has not given me more to do than I am able to accomplish. I have to do what is before me, spin the Lazy Susan when necessary to shift my focus, and trust that He will give me wisdom.

At the end of the day I usually fall asleep knowing that, while I did not accomplish everything on my priority list, God has not been thwarted in achieving His purposes for me and my family. Neither He nor His program is my responsibility in the final analysis; rather, I am His responsibility and He has promised to care for me.

I would rather have my ignorance than another man’s knowledge, because I have so much more of it.” – Mark Twain, 1875

One of the benefits of seminary is that it teaches you two things: first, it provides you with tools with which to study; second, it proves without question how ignorant you are. And I’ve learned these lessons twice! So far.

It is as an authority on ignorance that I write this post.

I have watched with interest the firestorm and pyromarketing surrounding the English Standard Version (ESV) of the Bible, especially the comments and posts spawned by Adrian’s continuing series on the new translation. I have read some (but certainly not all) the posts and comments, filtering them through my perceptual grid of ignorance. I respect the right to opinions and observations on both sides of the argument/debate/discussion, but feel it necessary to offer the following observation and caution.

Before getting to that, however, I should say that my comments are not limited to this particular issue. They apply to almost all subjects and might be profitable for all of us to keep in mind – especially when you’re on this blog and I begin one of my own rants or prattles as though I have a word from on high. So my comments apply everywhere, but especially here.

(This seems to result in a paradox or dilemma: do these comments apply to what follows, i.e., to themselves? It would seem that they must – as in

The following statement is true.
The preceding statement is false.

- but then their applicability is significantly impacted. Perhaps negative or restrictive statements are somehow exempt. Oh, the bane of ignorance!).

Here are my comments and observations on the ESV and its critics:

The undertaking of a translation of the Bible, whether the ESV or any other true translation, is a difficult and demanding matter. The people that work on translations are (hopefully) experts in the languages and committed to providing the non-Greek/-Hebrew/-Aramaic speaking lay people with a reasonably readable and accurate version of the manuscripts. There are always variants and texts that require a choice for the translator, and disagreements will arise from time to time. The work of translating is a very technical, very disciplined endeavor requiring diligence and expertise on the part of the translator.

Translators and exegetes disagree at times. Perhaps they disagree for linguistic reasons or theological reasons, but they do disagree. This is generally not a big problem since variant readings are often provided in the margins or notes of most reputable translations. The committee has had to make a choice in a particular passage, but it provides viable alternatives for the serious student.

My point is this: we should be careful in our criticism of any scholarly translation to make clear to our readers that our objections or observations are not necessarily superior – or even equal – to that of the committee’s choices. Good people disagree on such matters and dogmatism must be avoided.

Additionally, we need to respect the scholarship of the individuals and committees. In most cases, the people charged with translating the text are experts who have committed their lives to the study of the Greek and/or Semitic languages and the nuances of translating ancient writings into modern English (in this case). This is not something that these women and men do on a part-time basis or as a hobby on the side: it is their life’s work and a field to which they have devoted their lives.

Again, this is not to say that opinions should not be offered but only that they need to be tempered with an admission of our own limitations as well as – and here’s where my expertise comes in – ignorance. We should be gracious to those who take a different path since it is almost certainly one that can be defended linguistically, exegetically, or otherwise (although I have no idea what the “otherwise” could be – I told you I was ignorant).

One of my heroes in this regard is Douglas Moo, whose commentary on the Book of Romans in the NICNT series is regarded by some as the best English commentary on Romans. He is a legitimate exegete and scholar, but he is also humble enough to recognize the viability of views different from his own. Consider the following discussion of Rom 7:13-25 (from his commentary on Romans in the NIV Application Commentary):

The debate over the meaning of this text affords a classic example of a certain kind of interpretive problem. I think most expositors would admit that the exegetical evidence (i.e., lexicography, grammar, etc.) does not all point in the same direction. Each basic interpretation of this passage can cite evidence in its favor and a long and distinguished list of advocates. Anyone who thinks the matter is clear-cut lacks either objectivity or charity — or both . . .

“I have taught Romans now for over fifteen years in all kinds of contexts: seminary classrooms, extension classes, high school and adult Sunday school classes, retreats, and so on. Invariably, when I come to 7:14 – 25 and ask people what the passage means and why, I will get from a good number of students this kind of response: ‘This passage must be about the normal, or mature Christian because Paul describes the same kind of struggle with sin that I am having.’ I usually respond, first, by gently pointing out two key assumptions in this argument: that the speaker is a ‘mature Christian’ and that the struggle is only one that a Christian could have. Both are necessary assumptions if this argument is to work.

“Can we make these assumptions? Do I not run the risk of forcing the New Testament to conform to my own level of spirituality rather than letting the New Testament stand in judgment over my spiritual condition? Perhaps my struggle is not a struggle that mature Christians should be having. Now I don’t want to suggest that mature Christians do not struggle with sin. They do, and I believe that struggle is one we will always have in this life (see Contemporary Significance section). But I think we also need to do justice to the New Testament insistence that genuine believers will produce fruit exemplifying their new life in Christ and that such fruit is necessary if we are to go free in the judgment. It is dangerous to assume that I am a mature Christian and then conclude that any passage that fits my situation must also be describing a mature Christian.

“But the other assumption also needs scrutiny. If pushed to the wall, I will usually admit to my classes that verses 15 – 20 could, indeed, be describing the struggle of a mature believer to fulfill God’s will in his or her life. But those verses are part of an argument, the conclusion of which is that the struggle ends in defeat (vv. 21 – 25). Verses 15 – 20, in other words, may be describing the struggle any sincere religious devotee has in doing what his or her god is demanding. It may, indeed, fit Christian experience; but unless it fits only Christian experience, the point at issue is not proven.

“I have selected an example from one side of the argument to illustrate the danger of bringing our assumptions to the text without realizing we are doing it or allowing for them. And I chose this example because it is the one I have most often been faced with. But let me hasten to add that the assumptions can be just as pernicious on the other side.”

Moo is saying, in essence, that he has made a choice about this particular passage but he understands that others see it differently. He stands by his choice and believes it to be the best approach when all the factors are taken into consideration. But he is not so presumptuous or arrogant to be dogmatic or to dismiss opposing views. He, an exegete of the first-order, understands the difficulties with the passage and respects those who come to different conclusions (e.g., C.E.B. Cranfield in this instance).

There is a valuable lesson for us all in Moo’s humility. Certainly we can choose to disagree, but we must be honest with ourselves and admit our ignorance and limitations. We must be cautious in passing judgment or presenting our opinions as though they are the final word in the matter.

Few of us could carry on a meaningful conversation with scholars such as Moo, the ESV translation committee, or other experts in this narrow discipline. That does not mean that we are not entitled to an opinion; it does mean that our opinions likely do not carry as much weight as those of the experts.

Personally, I don’t feel as though I have enough knowledge or expertise to call into question the decisions made by scholars in such matters. Rather than voice my own opinions, I read the observations of other bonafide scholars. For example, Moo takes a certain position on Rom 7 but Cranfield takes a different one. I have read both of them (several times) and have chosen one over the other. But I am not dogmatic about it, since I respect both exegetes. I could be wrong.

So it is with the ESV. The committee has made choices based on its expertise. Some will disagree. Although one must be wrong – or both – we do not know which it is. With that uncertainty we must be content.

I know I said I would be “gone” for awhile, but I have buttons that other people unknowingly push. It happened to me over the weekend: on Friday my wife and I went to see Batman Begins, a movie I thoroughly enjoyed and plan to go see again. Back when I did movie reviews for the daily newspaper at which I wrote, this was the kind of movie I would recommend highly.

So I was minding my own business on Saturday when I ran across a post that pushed a button. I don’t know anything about the author but suspect (a) he’s fairly young – twentysomething, and (b) he hasn’t been a Christian very long. At least I’m hoping that’s the case.

Here are some of the comments from his post; I’ll provide some reactions as I go. (I’m not linking to him because I don’t want to appear to be attacking him personally; rather, I’m going to make a larger point from this seemingly trivial incident.)

I suppose I should have stopped reading when the author said in his first paragraph, “It just didn’t sit right.” That’s usually a sign that a visceral rather than cerebral post is about to follow – which is not always bad, but usually is when what follows is a negative evaluation.

Here we go:

We are, of course, reacquainted with another version of Bruce Wayne’s tragic childhood; only child sees his parents gunned down outside a theater, grows up alone, etc. However, this does not follow the script we heard in the first Batman movie . . .

In the first movie, you’ll remember it was a young Joker who murdered the Waynes and that act played a key part in its plot. This discontinuity soured the movie for me, at least for a little while. If we are to understand this movie as a prequel of sorts, then this change in the story trips things up. It would be like tampering with the original Star Wars movies in the prequels . . .

From the sounds of this, the reviewer didn’t grow up reading DC Comics in general and Batman in particular. The previous movies, not this one, departed from the original material: those of us who are familiar with the comic book knew that the Joker wasn’t responsible – at least not in my failing memory. This is an example of Steve Martin’s dictum, “Criticize things you don’t know about” (which immediately precedes “put a live chicken in your underwear”).

It’s also possible that the title of the movie has more than one meaning: it is, obviously, an account of why Bruce Wayne became Batman and why he was the way he was. But perhaps it’s also the writer’s way of saying that – in contrast to the earlier movies that were only pretenders and cheap imitations – the saga of Batman truly begins with this movie. At least, in my opinion, this is the first one that captures the mood and message of the comic book series.

He [Batman] refuses to forgive, refuses to let go of the pain, refuses to do anything but live in the past, embracing the moment of his worst agony. In this, we see that Bruce/Batman is actually diametrically opposed to the Christian ideal.

So? Did anybody go to the theater thinking that we were about to watch a Christian movie? In my 50 or so years of familiarity with Batman, I never suspected or expected him to be a Christian. In fact, God never explicitly shows up in either the movie or the comic series. Why expect Batman to emulate Christian ideals?

Apparently this critic has some experience in dealing with the violent, tragic death of his parents and feels that everyone should be able to “just get over it.” (Yeah, I know: it’s fictional!)

Re Batman’s willingness to have a murderer executed by the state, our critic observes:

There is no hint of trying to understand why the man committed his crime and if there might be elements that mitigate the deserved punishment. It is only this trifle of respect for the rule of law that separates Bruce from the criminal; he has no qualms about the use of violence, does not hesitate to instill fear and, in fact, is trained to use fear as a weapon, and certainly has no overall respect for the law. It also becomes abundantly clear later in the movie that Bruce/Batman has little respect for human life in his quest for ‘justice’ and the ‘good.’

What, exactly, are the mitigating circumstances that make murder an OK thing? Re violence, check out the Book of Revelation: God doesn’t seem to have many qualms, either. Unlike Batman Begins, however, God’s violence is going to be real, up-to-the-bridles-in-blood real. One-third-of-the-earth-dead real. All without qualms.

As the caped crusader rushes back to Wayne manor to save the life of his childhood sweetheart, the reviewer complains:

But his drive back to the manor is actually a car chase involving dozens of cop cars – many of which crash in manners that are likely fatal to the occupants. Further, Batman drives over rooftops, knocking debris onto the ground below in a complete disregard for any possible pedestrians. These innocent deaths do not matter to him so long as he can save his old friend; another mark of the selfishness that permeates Batman’s motivations.

NEWS FLASH!!! It’s a movie, OK? One of the requirements when going to see a fictional, superhero-genre movie is the ability to suspend disbelief. You don’t think about people dying in imaginary car crashes or from falling pretend debris BECAUSE THEY’RE NOT REAL PEOPLE! Is this really so difficult?

But here’s the clincher:

Which is why I left the theater thinking “is Batman an antichrist?” And the answer, I think, is an unfortunate yes.

The “antichrist”? Has our eschatological understanding of things come to this? Batman Begins has nothing to do with Christianity and it is unfair to impose Christian values on a non-Christian producer, director, writer, etc. As a movie it is outstanding. It doesn’t pretend or desire to be a Christian movie about morality and Christlikeness.

The “antichrist”? Maybe I missed it, but I didn’t hear Bruce or the caped crusader say anything about Jesus not being the Christ, or denying that Jesus came in the flesh, or – as a spirit – declaring that Jesus is not from God. The “antichrist”? Did I miss something?

OK, obviously this pushed a button or two for me. But here’s the point, or at least one of them: what do we really believe about non-Christians? Do we believe that they are capable of acknowledging God and glorifying Him without the Holy Spirit? Is our understanding of human depravity that shallow? Do we think so lightly of sin or the effects of the Fall? Do we think?

Practically speaking, though, is it fair to judge non-Christians by Christian standards? I have a hard enough time walking the talk even with 30+ years of salvation and the Holy Spirit within; why would I expect a nonbeliever to “get it right”? Or, for that matter, even try to get it right?

It would be like one of my non-Christian friends watching The Gospel of John and giving it a bad review because: (a) it didn’t follow the plot of The Da Vinci Code, on which it should have been based, (b) Jesus failed to use “the force” or a lightsaber, and (c) except for Zaccheus, there didn’t seem to be any hobbits in the movie.

If we’re going to catch a movie at Sodommark, we shouldn’t plan on seeing a biblical depiction of the nature of man, a demonstration of the need for salvation, or a didactic analysis of the difference between propitiation and expiation. It’s their party, not ours, and we are just a tad judgmental and self-righteous to judge the servant of another.

Besides, if you have eyes to see and ears to hear, you might actually catch a glimpse or whisper of the glory of God in the creativity of the writer or the artistry of the director and actors. And we should, above all else, remember this:

It’s a movie.

Unless the muses come upon me unawares and uninvited, posting will likely be light for awhile.

After putting it off for a long time, it seems the time has come to refute a prevalent error at our church. The new senior pastor has urged me several times to counter the false teaching; he is both theologically and exegetically astute and is understandably concerned about the insidious infection of this lingering problem (a false understanding of the anthropological effects of salvation and sanctification). So that’s what will be consuming my time.

It is possible, of course, that some of the research and writing I’m doing for that venture will be appropriate for posting, so that may appear. Otherwise, I’m afraid, I must focus on the need of our local church for a bit (I’m thinking a week or two, not longer).

Unless, as I said, I am suddenly struck by an uncontrollable urge to post. Which does happen, as you all know.

Father, Son, & Holy Spirit:
Relationships, Roles, & Relevance

Author: Bruce A. Ware

Dr Ware is Senior Associate Dean and Professor of Christian Theology at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, KY. He holds the Ph.D. from Fuller Theological Seminary and is the author of three additional books available through Crossway: God’s Lesser Glory, God’s Greater Glory, and Their God Is Too Small.

Publisher: Crossway Books
ISBN: 1581346689
Pages: 158 + notes
Recommended: Yes

Disclaimer: This book was provided free of charge through the Diet of Bookworms as part of a book review program.

Overview

This book is organized into six chapters. As the title suggests, the purpose of the book is to understand the relationships among, roles within, and relevance of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as revealed in the doctrine of the Trinity. Chapter One explores the importance of the doctrine and the raison d’etre of the book:

The focus of our study of the Trinity will be to examine especially the ways in which the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit relate to one another, how they relate to us, and what difference this makes in our lives.

Ware identifies ten reasons to study the Trinity, including: it is a doctrine that distinguishes Christianity from all other religions; its necessity and centrality to the faith (especially salvation); its impact upon prayer, and the nature of authority and submission among persons of the same essence.

Chapter Two provides an historical overview of the doctrine, tracing the development of the teaching throughout the history of the church. Two errors are highlighted, i.e., those of Sabellius and Arius. The former argued that God is one and has chosen to manifest Himself at different times in different ways, e.g., as the Son during the incarnation. (This teaching, sometimes called “modalism,” is still found in Pentacostalism.) Modalism maintains that “God, then, is successively Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; he is not simultaneously Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.”

The false teaching of Arius emphasized that “Jesus should be seen merely as the first and greatest creation of the one true God, not as God himself.” This teaching resulted in the Council of Nicea in 325 C.E., where Athanasius refuted Arius and argued that the New Testament was clear “that Christ is of the very same nature as the Father.”

Chapter Three begins the study of the individual members of the Trinity by examining the revelation concerning the Father. Ware states,

[W]hat distinguishes the Father is his particular role as Father in relation to the Son and Spirit and the relationships that he has with each of them.

The author then identifies and elaborates on some of the more important roles of the Father in the Godhead:

The Father as Supreme Among the Persons of the Godhead
The Father as the Grand Architect, the Wise Designer, of Creation, Redemption, and Consummation
The Father Is the Giver of Every Good and Perfect Gift
The Father Often Provides and Works Through the Son and the Spirit

Chapters Four and Five offer similar summaries and elucidations on the unique roles and relationships of the Son and the Spirit. Concerning the Son it is noted:

The Son Is Under the Headship or Authority of the Father
The Son in Loving Relationship with the Father
Jesus’ Submission to the Spirit – to Fulfill His Role as the Spirit-anointed Messiah
Jesus’ Authority over the Spirit – in His Role as the Son of the Father

Of the Spirit, Ware says:

The Spirit Assists in Carrying Out the Work of the Father
The Spirit Works Now to Glorify the Son
The Spirit Takes the Third Position, After the Father and the Son, in the Age to Come

Ware also emphasizes the role of the Holy Spirit in providing special revelation through His work of inspiration, His activity in evangelism, and His work of regeneration at the moment of salvation.

Chapter Six, which is the heart of the book, provides lessons to be appropriated as a result of a better understanding of the nature of the Trinity:

1. God intends that his very nature – yes, his triune and eternal nature – be expressed in our human relationships.
2. Eternal relationality calls for and calls forth a created community of persons.
3. The relationships in the Trinity exhibit so beautifully a unity that is not redundancy, and a diversity that is not discord.
4. The most marked characteristic of the trinitarian relationships is the presence of an eternal and inherent expression of authority and submission.
5. Equality of essence does not conflict with distinction of roles. In God, and among us, both must be embraced and honored.
6. Trinitarian roles and marriage: both equality of essence of male and female, and distinction of husband and wife roles, are designed by God and are reflective of the Trinity.
7. Trinitarian roles and the church: both equality of essence and distinction of roles are designed by God to be expressed among pastoral leaders and congregations, and this dynamic is reflective of the Trinity.
8. Trinitarian roles and prayer: the taxis eternally present in the Trinity, of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, in this order, forms the framework for meaningful, biblical prayer.
9. Trinitarian roles and worship: the taxis eternal present in the Trinity, of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, in this order, forms the framework for meaningful, biblical worship.
10. Because God eternally exhibits both full equality of essence and rich diversity in role, we can be confident that both are good.

Recommendation and Review

Recommendation:

This book is recommended without reservation.

Review:

It is rare that a book delivers on its promises and stated intent as completely and as biblically as does Father, Son, & Holy Spirit. It is at once an solid introduction to the study of Theology Proper but valid treatment of the implications of the Trinity for everyday life. The book succeeds at many levels.

Perhaps due to the cultural influences of 21st Century America, Dr Ware does go into greater depth on some topics than on others. Notable in this regard are his treatment of the twin issues of authority and submission, as well as the implications of headship within the Godhead for leadership within marriages and the local church.

If there is a complaint about the book, it grows out of the above: it does not go into sufficient depth on some of the other ramifications of Trinitarian existence and experience in the Godhead. In a word, the book is too short.

But what is present, as stated previously, is a remarkable and solid development of the Trinitarian theme in Scripture, the church, and numerous facets of life. Thus, while not being an exhaustive treament of Trinitarianism, it is accurate and biblical as far as it goes.

A subtle – yet very effective – tool for emphasizing the equality of essence among the members of the Trinity is Ware’s repetition at the beginning of each chapter on the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Each chapter begins with the statement that the Christian faith affirms:

There is one and only one god, eternally existing and fully expressed in three Persons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Each member of the Godhead is equally God, each is eternally God, and each is fully God – not three gods but three Persons of the one Godhead. Each Person is equal in essence as each possesses fully the identically same, eternal divine nature, yet each is also an eternal and distinct personal expression of the one undivided divine nature.

The [Father/Son/Spirit], then, is fully God. He is not one-third God, but fully God. Yet it is not the [Father/Son/Spirit] alone who is fully God, but he eternally exists along with the [Son and Spirit/Father and Spirit/Father and Son], each of whom also possesses fully the identically same divine nature. Because of this, what distinguishes [Him] . . . is not the divine nature of the [Father/Son/Spirit] . . . what distinguishes [Father/Son/Spirit] is his particular role as [Father/Son/Spirit] in relation to [the others] and the relationships that he has with each of them.

This book is an excellent addition to anyone’s theological library and is suitable for teaching in Bible studies, Sunday schools, or simply reading for one’s personal edification.

OK, I’ll play.

Since others (Jollyblogger, Adrian, Semper Reformanda, Common Grounds Online) are having fun with self-deprecating, semi-serious jabs at their own theological system, I thought I’d offer up some clues to you determine if you, too, might be a dispensationalist.

Remember: this is very serious stuff.

You Might Be a Dispensationalist If . . .

1. you named your first child “Cyrus Ingersoll,” even though it was a girl.

2. when you pray, you turn and face towards Dallas.

3. you’re surprised and embarrassed by Jack Deere.

4. you need charts to teach the Book of Psalms.

5. you think Jesus used PowerPoint for the Sermon on the Mount.

6. you’re familiar with Chafer, but not Schaeffer.

7. when you’re driving home at night and see a bright light in the sky, you unfasten your seat belt and “get ready.”

8. you find prophetic significance in Martha Stewart’s arrest.

9. you know who John Nelson Darby is and have his synopsis of the Bible.

10. your favorite definition of “economy” comes from Charles Ryrie.

Well, how would you define it? Strip away the jargon and imagine you’re explaining it to a new believer or to someone who’s asking you about Christianity and grace.

I grew up in Indiana in the fifties and sixties, before there were impersonal interstate highways built in the middle of nowhere. The roads back then twisted around farms and homes and followed trails through woods that seemed to surround my hometown. We hadn’t discovered the ozone layer yet, cars weighed about the same as a freight train, and fuel efficiency was of no concern to anybody.

Even before I had started driving, I loved going for rides in the country with my mother and sisters. We would pick a direction, try to find a road we’d never been on, and see where it took us. I saw a lot of western Indiana on those Sunday morning journeys.

Inevitably, it seems, we always came across some kind of roadkill as we drove through the countryside. Dogs, cats, skunks, opossums, and an occasional deer. (We never worried about hitting a deer or anything: our ‘55 Chevy had thick steel fenders and could likely survive a high-speed collision with Godzilla.)

Now I’m in Texas and I still see lots of roadkill. Not so many opossums down here; armadillos, sort of an armor-plated opossum, have largely taken their place on the blacktop graveyards where I drive. They tend to be neater: opossums have a way of splattering all over the place while armadillos tend bleed out from below. They lie there in the sun, awaiting the arrival of crows the size of Buicks to devour them.

What has always struck me about roadkill, regardless of their genus or species, is just how dead they are. They’re not just a little bit dead or politely dead: they are dead in a big, irreversible way. (Sometimes when I’m with one of my daughters, we’ll come across some roadkill and I’ll comment on what good actors those critters are, playing ‘possum like they are. They groan and romanticize about how the survivors must miss them so, as if life were Bambi and I was the SOB that just shot Mother.)

Death is a stark reality, a fact we are shielded from in our “civilized” (”sanitized”) society. Few of us have watched someone die before our eyes or seen the lifeless, baby-doll eyes of a corpse. We don’t fully comprehend the punctuation point at the end of our life sentence; as a result, we don’t really appreciate life or death as we should.

Jesus died. Set aside all the truths about our salvation, sin, the eternal decrees, atonement, prophecy, and all the other clean categories of theological thought and focus on this one thing: Jesus was as dead as roadkill when they pulled his battered, bleeding body off the cross that Friday afternoon. He was pierced in His wrists, ankles, and side. He bled onto the ground. His back looked like it had been in a boat propeller. He looked bad and smelled bad. The smell of death was on Him.

Just like roadkill. Utterly dead. No life. No breath. No heartbeat. As dead as roadkill.

And just as likely to stay that way, except . . .

The Christian message – the Christian life – is about death: His death and our death. It is about Him dying and being dead; it is about us dying daily and being dead to the world and ourselves. Christianity is about Him saying no to His own self-preservation instincts and dying like roadkill for us. It is about us saying no to our own desires and living instead for someone who became roadkill for us. We are to die.

So the next time you come upon roadkill, think about two things: think about how dead Jesus Christ was for your sake, and think about how dead you should be to yourself and the things of this world. Think about how you should have no more response to your own desires and the lure of the world than Jesus had when He died on the cross.

Be just like Him: dead to this world, dead to yourself; unresponsive to the things of this life.

As dead as roadkill.