Scot McKnight left a comment on my Re-Thinking My Thinking post that I inadvertently deleted (he left it there but also on another post accidently: when I deleted the latter, it deleted the former, too). But my apology is not for deleting his comment; my apology is for unintentionally misrepresenting him.
His comment, if I can faithfully summarize it, said that he was innocent of teaching while uncertain about his position. He added that he believed all teachers’ beliefs deepen as they teach a subject or passage.
I agree with both of Scot’s statements. I had tried to make it clear that I was not accusing him but only using his experience as a springboard for the discussion. I may not have made that point clearly or forcefully enough. A (more) careful, third reading of his series - which I did after posting - indicates that he was quite convinced of his changed perspective by the time he taught the class. If I’m not reading too much into it, his summer of exegeting the Book of Hebrews only deepened and solidified his conviction.
If you read the earlier post and concluded that Scot was guilty of this practice, it’s my fault. Scot did know where he stood (and still does) and, I believe, would not have taught it if he had significant doubts.
2 Cor 1.13
(I grew up in the slums/a ghetto, so I can use the term. It’s actually unfair, though: people in the slums/ghetto tend to be more real and more honest than people living on the “right side” of the tracks.)
I had an interesting email exchange recently about what’s fair and ethical when it comes to the treatment of authors of books in posts on the internet. Here’s the gist of it:
Statements were made that seemed to be more about the author’s motivations than about the content of a particular book. I had contended that, prior to criticizing (even under the guise of questioning) someone publicly, it would be more appropriate to confront the author privately and express the concerns one-on-one. This, as far as I understand it, is the starting point of discipline according to Mt 18:15 -
If your brother sins, go and show him his fault in private; if he listens to you, you have won your brother.” (NASB)
Apparently, Christians are not bound by this principle when it comes to things - such as books or articles - that have been published and are therefore public. The explanation I received was,
Here’s what you have to understand about writing: when an author publishes a view in public, it becomes at that point a public discussion. Anything said by an author is open to such review . . .
“To publish a book is to go public; it is also to invite public dialogue about a book (especially one that has ‘becoming conversant’ in the title). I see the blogging to be just that: public dialogue about a book.”
Having been a print journalist for more than a decade, I think I understand about things that are public. But even among journalists there is a code of ethics that keeps one reporter from attacking the integrity or motivation of another reporter. Question the facts or conclusions? Sure, but don’t make it personal or question the other’s morality. Trust me: secular journalists are hardly a stronghold of moral and ethical uprightness!
But the point is being made that we don’t have to live by biblical standards in certain situations or settings. Isn’t this what Fletcher argued for decades ago, i.e., situational ethics?
I’m not sure where the biblical allowance for such a practice by Christians comes from. I do know that both Jesus and Paul confronted Peter publicly, but in both cases they confronted him directly in the presence of others. They didn’t go to others and criticize Pete in his absence: the sin was public, so a public rebuke was necessary. But Pete was there both times.
We can adopt the world’s standards on this, I suppose, but we should be slow to cloak ourselves with righteousness when doing so. It just seems to me that the person is more important than the principle being debated. If it is not possible to confront them privately, then perhaps an “open letter” to the individual would be appropriate. If there is an inadequate or no response to the rebuke, then consider taking it public.
It just seems like a public hanging is a pretty severe place to start.
2 Cor 1.13
For a long time I have thought of myself as reasonably astute and discerning. I am beginning to wonder, however, if I have been correct in that assessment - although such reflection becomes a bit of a paradox in itself.
What has brought about this latest bout of doubt is the question of how best to formulate beliefs and when to teach those beliefs to others. This most recent round of mental sparring with myself was triggered by a series of posts by Scot McKnight at Jesus Creed. But, in fairness to Scot, what follows is not so much about him individually as it is about others that take this approach in churches here and there.
Scot has been posting on how he changed his views from a Calvinistic to a more Arminian theology on some central issues. It is a good series and well-worth reading, but my post is about the method or path he followed in arriving at his present position.
According to his series, Scot first began to carefully investigate his previous understanding of the believer’s security and the warning passages in Hebrews while a student at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School. It seems that he was still in the process of modifying his understanding of theology later on while teaching at TEDS - a prestigious appointment, to say the least:
Within two years I was asked to teach Hebrews in a survey course, and I decided to spend my entire summer going through the exegesis of Hebrews and I was determined to concentrate on those dadgummed warning passages to see if I could settle the issues once and for all.”
Exactly how settled Scot actually was with regard to the warning passages when he began teaching Hebrews is not clear: he may have been fully convinced with no doubts whatsoever. But, for the sake of this post, let’s say he wasn’t as convinced as he should have been: I apologize if Scot is innocent of the concerns I will express below, but many others are not innocent and it is to them that I write. (Think of Scot as a blasting cap that sets off the charge of dynamite.)
This, then, is the situation that has caused me to doubt my own wisdom: a person is questioning a particular interpretation and understanding of a biblical passage or theological point while at the same time teaching on the subject. Perhaps enthused by the “new truths” being discovered, the person presents the material to students in rough form and polishes it as he or she goes.
It doesn’t take a Ph.D. in psychology to recognize the danger of such a practice. A simple understanding of cognitive dissonance demonstrates the power of making public one’s position - however new and fragile it might be - on a person’s commitment to that position. Scot discusses this briefly in another series (on conversion):
Think about it: identity is shaped as we tell ourselves our own story to make sense of our own lives, and converts do the same. A revised autobiography as witness is perhaps the clearest indicator of conversion.”
By way of review, here’s how cognitive dissonance works: whenever a person has two thoughts or beliefs that are in opposition to one another, both opinions are modified with one becoming more positive and the other less positive. For example:
1. Mike is a Calvinist but is asked to voluntarily research and debate the Arminian understanding of salvation at a church conference on theological systems. So Mike studies and studies, prepares his presentation thoroughly, and delivers his arguments forcefully and convincingly during the debate.
2. Mike is a Calvinist but is paid $500 to research and debate the Arminian understanding of salvation at a church conference on theological systems. So Mike studies and studies, prepares his presentation thoroughly, and delivers his arguments forcefully and convincingly during the debate.
According to cognitive dissonance theory, Mike’s views will change in the first example but not in the second. Why no change in the second instance? Simple: being the mercenary that he is, Mike feels he was paid a sufficient amount of money to justify both the study and public position he took. There is no cognitive dissonance here: the money offsets the contrary position and his argument in favor of it. So any change in position will be negligible.
Why the change in the first situation? Because in that case Mike voluntarily undertook intense study and subsequently took a public stance in favor of the position he presented. Subconsciously it makes no sense to Mike to study so hard and so powerfully in defense of a belief to which he does not subscribe. He will probably not become Arminian at this point, but he will have a more positive view of the Arminian position and a less positive view of Calvinism, thus restoring some cognitive harmony internally.
There are two points to be made. First, it is good for all of us to revisit positions and beliefs from time to time, especially when those to which we are committed were hand-me-downs to begin with. In the process of doing so, however, we need to be careful about going public with our findings prematurely lest we inadvertantly convince ourselves of the very thing we are questioning. That is, if I make public my position while I am still trying to figure it out, I have subconsciously conditioned myself to be more committed to the belief than I would have been if I had kept quiet.
Second, and more importantly, people that teach are perceived as having authority to some extent. Scot saw this in teaching Hebrews:
Here’s what happened in those classes: by and large students agreed with the conclusions we drew for each part of the Warning Passages. Now, as you know, my conclusions were that the author warned the audience of apostasy and warned them that they would forfeit their salvation. What surprised me is the number of students who agreed with me. After all, these were true-blue conservative evangelical types who by and large believed in eternal security and assurance of salvation and these sorts of ideas.”
In other words, Scot’s students came to the conclusions that they sensed he favored. Students are extremely malleable but also quite perceptive: they can be easily influenced but are very quick to discern what position is likely to result in a better grade. Plus, most students want to be liked by their godly professors. (Been there, done that, paid the bills for it.)
In all probability, Scot was more convinced when he taught than many of us are about a particular teaching when we first stand before others and instruct. As he wrote, he spent the summer exegeting the book of Hebrews and was undoubtedly confident of his conclusions. But in many churches this is not always the case.
I had always thought it best to follow the example of Paul. Following his conversion, he writes, he did not immediately begin declaring his gospel to others:
But when God, who had set me apart even from my mother’s womb and called me through His grace, was pleased to reveal His Son in me so that I might preach Him among the Gentiles, I did not immediately consult with flesh and blood, nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were apostles before me; but I went away to Arabia, and returned once more to Damascus. Then three years later I went up to Jerusalem to become acquainted with Cephas, and stayed with him fifteen days.” - Gal 1:15-18
Then after an interval of fourteen years I went up again to Jerusalem with Barnabas, taking Titus along also. It was because of a revelation that I went up; and I submitted to them the gospel which I preach among the Gentiles, but I did so in private to those who were of reputation, for fear that I might be running, or had run, in vain.” - Gal 2:1-2
Paul did testify to Jesus Christ immediately following his conversion, but he did not go public with his gospel until he had had time to examine it through his own considerable theological understanding. He submitted it to the leaders of the church and, upon receiving their encouragement, preached it to people all over the known world.
This is what I have thought best to do, i.e., to withhold teaching something until I am reasonably sure this is what I believe. When I have taught a book or subject that I am currently reconsidering, I teach the former position and mention that I am examining it again. I present what I have previously believed and have solid reasons for believing while allowing that this might change at some point. To my way of thinking, this provides the students with a reasonable starting point from which they may subsequently choose to depart. But at least they will have a proven foundation immediately after the class.
This, it seems to me, is required by integrity and stewardship: the first because of conscience, the second because I will one day give an account of what I have taught others about God. It seems to be the prudent, responsible way.
But maybe I’ve been wrong.
2 Cor 1.13
