Eternal Perspectives

Having noticed that more than a few of the really popular blogs have ringing endorsements in the sidebar, I thought I would follow suit.

A few of my many endorsements are now found in the sidebar of my home page because, after all, I want to be popular, too!

Jollyblogger has posted a concise sentence about self-absorption, Just a Random Thought. As I said in my comment there, it is quite heuristic. I agree with what he is getting at and only seek to elaborate on his insight here.

I would add only that it is how I think about me, what I want and what I need, that is determinative. When that kind of self-reflective thinking comes into my head, I’m once again standing at a crossroads: follow the Spirit or follow the flesh. (Since we make at least 17,000 decisions a day,* it’s a familiar intersection!)

If I’m thinking about all that Christ has done in my life, recognizing my wants as manifestations of the flesh, and learning to be content with God meeting my basic needs – if I think along those lines, I’m OK. It’s when I leave the Holy Spirit out of my thinking – i.e., I don’t allow Him to correct and re-direct my thoughts – that I get into a grey or blue mood.

At least for me, it’s the perspectival path I choose to take that makes all the difference. Will I walk after the Spirit or after the flesh? Will I have a temporal or eternal perspective?

It’s another crossroads every day, every hour, and sometimes many times an hour.
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*Not all decisions are conscious, thankfully!

Like most of you, I suspect, I have a vague awareness of how many people visit my blog or read my posts on a daily basis. I am without question a very small fish in a very big ocean: there are Christian bloggers who draw readers and visitors by the thousands on a daily basis; undoubtedly, many of their visitors come precisely because these blogs are so popular and have been labeled successful or influential by other bloggers.

What I am about to say, therefore, may sound like nothing more than sour grapes – except for the fact that I am drawing from Jesus’ teaching and not my own reasoning. I am also indebited to a sermon I heard by Haddon Robinson, to whom I owe much of my spiritual growth and from whom I have learned more than I can describe. Thus, the following is not sour grapes: hopefully, what follows are sweet grapes to a few readers of this blog.

If you were to talk to my clients – whether individuals or couples – and ask them who the most important person is in the counseling process, it is likely that many would say that it is me, the therapist, who is more vital and critical to the process. I am, after all, the one with the special training and the one from whom they seek help: certainly, they might reason, the counselor is the most important person. Of course, they would be wrong: the most important person in counseling is not the counselor: the most important person is the client.

The same, I think, is true of blogs. If you were to consider, for example, the Pyromaniacs – Phil, Frank, Dan, and the rarely seen Pecadillo – you might initially think it was Phil or perhaps Frank or Dan. But, again, you would be wrong: the most important person at that or any other blog is you, the reader.

That, I think, is what Jesus is trying to impress upon His followers in one of His most important parables as found in Lk 8:

4 While a large crowd was gathering and people were coming to Jesus from town after town, he told this parable:
5 ‘A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path; it was trampled on, and the birds of the air ate it up.
6 ‘Some fell on rock, and when it came up, the plants withered because they had no moisture.
7 ‘Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up with it and choked the plants.
8 ‘Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up and yielded a crop, a hundred times more than was sown.’ When he said this, he called out, ‘He who has ears to hear, let him hear.’
9 His disciples asked him what this parable meant.
10 He said, ‘The knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of God has been given to you, but to others I speak in parables, so that, “though seeing, they may not see; though hearing, they may not understand.”’” – NIV

It is perhaps necessary to say a word about parables in general before looking more deeply at this particular one; thus, let’s begin at the end of this passage to understand why Jesus spoke in parables and what specifically parables were and are.

In short, a parable is a story is taken from everyday life that conveys a different, usually deeper, truth about something. Unlike an allegory, it is not easy to make a one-to-one correspondence between elements of the parable and the underlying truth; unlike an illustration, the parable does not provide an explanation of its meaning. It is up to the hearers of the parable to discover the truth contained in the parable.

For example, if I were reading or listening to a Calvinist or Arminian theologian wax dogmatically on a particular aspect of doctrine, relying on and drawing from the writings of Spurgeon or Wesley to bolster their point, I might say to her, “Even monkeys fall out of trees.” That is a parable: you understand it only if you think about it and ascertain the meaning hidden within it. If you ask for an explanation, as the disciples did in Lk 8, I might say, “Even experts make mistakes.” That, then, would be a parable with an explanation given.

Jesus spoke in parables not to hide His truth and message from others, but to make it understandable only to those who were hungering and thirsting for righteousness. Those who were content with themselves and trusting in their own way of righteousness would not seek to uncover the truth of the parable, but those who are hungry and thirsty would do whatever they could to grasp the truth of what was being said. The aforementioned Calvinist or Arminian would, if hungry and thirsty, stop to consider my words and examine their own belief system for what might be incorrect or inconsistent; those who admit to no errors, however, would not bother.

This seems to be the message of the parable of the sower: the seed was sown but the result was dependent on the state and condition of the soil. In Jesus’ parable, the seed is the word of God, the fruit is salvation and all that follows, and the soil represents the various types of people listening to him. It was not the size of the crowd, He was saying, that is vital but rather the condition or receptivity of the soil that ultimately made the difference.

Or, for us, it is not the number of hits on a blog that matters but whether or not readers hear and are changed as a result of a post. A blog may have a thousand hits and change but one; another blog may have forty hits and change ten. Which, then, is actually more successful?

A quick word on the seed in this parable: There are a great many blogs and posts that quote Scripture and then seek to expound upon it. The seed, being the word of God, is infallible: it is always capable of producing growth and fruit, even if the particular exposition is not accurate. What is sown, then, must be the word of God, not the teachings of Calvin or Wesley, Spurgeon or Swindoll, D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones or any other human “authorities.” It is only that teaching or preaching which “rightly handles the word of truth” that is profitable; it is only the word of truth itself that is infallible and cannot “fall out of trees” – unlike Calvin, Wesley, me, the Pyromaniacs, or anyone else. This is not meant to diminish, disparage, or dismiss the writings of any theologian: it is meant to see them and their writings in perspective.

Some soil is trampled and hardened like a well-worn path. These people hear the gospel message but are not able or willing to accept it; the effect of their rejection of the truth, as Jesus explains to the disciples, renders them “so that they may not believe and be saved” (8.12). There is no salvation for those whose soil or hearts are hardened and unwilling to accept the truth. The seed is snatched away and never penetrates the soil of the human heart.

Other soil is shallow: people hear it and enthusiastically accept and embrace it. Underneath, however, is a layer of hard soil that keeps the seed from deveoping deep roots: when adversity comes, they walk, stray, or stay away from the truth. There is little, if any, change in such people because they have not opened themselves sufficiently to receive the truth fully.

The third soil is different still: here the seed is accepted and takes root – perhaps even deep roots – but other things that people allow to take root in their lives crowd the plant and keep it from growing fully and yielding fruit. Such people may have a commitment to the word of God, but they have other, competing loyalties; they are distracted and preoccupied with other things. Sadly, rich soil can yield a bountiful harvest of weeds and thorns as well as spiritual fruit. Those competitors can be good things, such as the study of theology or a devotion to missions, but they take away from the singular pursuit of the Giver of the word of truth. Satan may not be able to keep you from being good soil, but he will try his best to clutter your soil with “good” things that choke the True Vine from bearing as much fruit as it might through us.

The fourth soil, of course, is what we must seek to be: we are to receive the word, yield to it, and allow God to change us, mature us, and produce fruit through us. The good soil is soft and receptive, is deep, is free from thorns and weeds, and hungers for the word of God. Such soil is not something once received and then enjoyed forever: it requires daily maintenance, watering, and fertilizing. The maintenance is being vigilant to keep extraneous things from robbing us; watering is work of the Spirit as He uses the word of God to cause growth, and fertilizer is all the crap hard things in our lives that develop Christlikeness in us.

Whether listening to a sermon, sitting under a teaching, or reading a blog, the most important person in that process is you, the reader. As readers we choose, by the disposition and receptivity of our hearts, whether we will yield to the truth and be changed or be found to be hardened, shallow, or entangled in the world. The growth we enjoy or prevent is up to us and our submission to the Lordship of Jesus Christ. Our constant prayer must be that we will be found to be good soil, receptive to the truth, committed to maturity, and cooperating with the Holy Spirit to facilitate the production of fruit that will be manifested through us.

I was reading a post by a blogger greater than most of us (he bestows his blessings on lesser bloggers by honoring them for a week – and that he is greater is clear because “without any dispute the lesser is blessed by the greater” [Heb 7.7]) -

At any rate, I was reading one of his posts about prayer and was dumbfounded – which is not the same as being “found dumb,” although in some cases it might be – to read the following: (more…)

As I mentioned in my previous post on this matter, the purpose of this brief series is to reduce the judgmentalism of some Christian Pharisees – or at the very least to draw them out – and to comfort some who have suffered as a result of divorce. My first post sought to establish the fact of God’s marriage to the unified nation of Israel in preparation for discussing His subsequent divorce from the northern part of the then-divided kingdom.

The evidence of God’s divorce comes directly from the prophets Hosea and Jeremiah. The former declares, (more…)

Douglas Moo on the connection of theology and Christian living:

Romans has the reputation — well deserved — of being one of the most theological books in the Bible. Unfortunately, this reputation has led many Christians and even some commentators to wonder why Paul bothers with all the practical stuff at the end of the letter. He has finished the theology section at the end of chapter 11. Why say any more?

“Such an attitude betrays a basic misunderstanding of theology and its significance. All theology is practical, and all practice, if it is truly Christian, is theological. Paul’s gospel is deeply theological, but it is also eminently practical. The good news of Jesus Christ is intended to transform a person’s life. Until individual Christians own and live out the theology, the gospel has not accomplished its purpose.” – on Romans 12.1-2, NIV Application Commentary

(Note: This post is prompted by numerous accounts of pain and suffering of Christians due to an inadequate understanding of the nature of divorce in the Bible. My hope is that it would cause the Pharisees among us to stop treating divorced believers as bastard children of God and, in addition, would provide some comfort for those who carry unnecessary guilt because of divorce.)

Those of us quick to adduce Mal 2.16a – “‘For I hate divorce,’ says the LORD, the God of Israel” – would do well to accept an inescapable fact of the Bible: God Himself was divorced. Here, in context, is the aforementioned proof-text used by many to condemn and bludgeon those who are considering, in the process of, or dealing with the aftermath of being divorced: (more…)

For the most part, I have stayed out of the fray over the orthodoxy (generous or otherwise) and orthopraxy of Brian D. McLaren for one simple reason: although I’ve read a lot about him, I really haven’t read much of him (only The Church on the Other Side). Most of what I have read about him has seemed polarized: he is either the second-coming of a Minor Prophet or the latest emanation of a False Prophet. Few indeed have been the reasonable voices: Scot McKnight comes to mind but I couldn’t accept all that he had to say, either. That has nothing to do with him and everything to do with me: in my ignorance of McLaren, I didn’t know how to evaluate McKnight’s interaction with and frequent defense of the Emergent contingent. (Finally I emailed him and asked him if he were still orthodox in his beliefs; he assured me he was. I believed him; I still believe him.)

Not much has really changed – I am still ignorant, but slightly less so. I have just finished McLaren’s The Secret Message of Jesus and have found what I believe are some valuable insights and perspectives therein, some of which are intended and at least one that is not.

The purpose of this post is not to provide an apologetic for McLaren nor even to review his book. It is to attempt to shed a wee bit of light on him as an individual and perhaps make him a bit more palatable to some. I fully recognize that there are those among us who will require the Heimlich maneuver for anything not written by their denominational patron saint – Calvin, Luther, Wesley, Darby, Osteen – and I don’t expect to make many converts with them. But hopefully there are others who might benefit from McLaren if he is viewed from a profitable, maybe even biblical perspective.

Having said that, I do not believe that my view is the last word (or even the word after that) on McLaren. It is, however, my word and I think it has some merit, at least for me if no one else. I want to make two points in this post; perhaps, in another post, I’ll provide additional quotes from and comments about his latest book.

First, I think McLaren can be viewed as a prophet but not as a priest. I take my definitions from McLaren:

The best way I’ve found to understand Jewish prophets is to see them in dynamic tension with another important religious community in Judaism: the priests. Priests were responsible for the regular, ongoing, day-to-day and year-to-year, religious life of Judaism – the key words being regularity and its cousin regulations. The priests made sure the traditions and practices of regular religious life went on as they should with holidays and sacrifices, feasts and fasts, Scripture and tradition. In Jesus’ day, priests were closely allied with the scribes – religious scholars who studied and argued about what exactly the rules and regulations of Judaism should be. Together, they constituted what we might call the religious establishment . . .

“There were tensions between Aaron the priest and Moses the prophet, and tensions between priests and prophets continued through the centuries. Priests focused on regularity and tradition, but what happened when people began going through the motions with their bodies, while their hearts and minds were unengaged? . . . In those cases, a prophet would arise and tell the people that God is downright disgusted with external religious observance that rolls along without heartfelt sincerity and without commitment to social justice and practical compassion for the poor and week . . .

“As you’d expect, since their purpose was to disrupt the status quo, their life and rhetoric were necessarily unruly, disturbing, sometimes shocking.” – pp 20-22

I think McLaren has put his finger on something here, and it is – at the very least – himself: McLaren is a brilliant prophetic mind and an alluring prophetic voice in many, many ways. It is impossible for anyone paying attention to the cultural climate of current Christianity to not agree with many of the points he makes. He sees clearly; he knows the emperor is naked and is not hesitant to say so.

Consider, for example, McLaren’s statements about the conspiracy of religious and political leaders to crucify Jesus Christ, thus bringing His ministry to what appears to be a tragic, failed end:

This is the scandal of the message of Jesus. The kingdom of God does fail. It is weak. It is crushed. When its message of love, peace, justice, and truth meets the principalities and powers of government and religion armed with spears and swords and crosses, they unleash their hate, force, manipulation, and propaganda. Like those defenseless students standing before tanks and machine guns in Tiananmen Square, the resistance movement known as the kingdom of God is crushed.

“But what is the alternative? We really must consider this question. Could the kingdom of God come with bigger weapons, sharper swords, more clever political organizing? Could the kingdom of God be a matter of what is often called redemptive violence? Or would that methodology corrupt the kingdom of God so it would stop being ‘of God’ at all and instead become just another earthly (and perhaps in some sense demonic) principality or power? . . .

“What if the only way for the kingdom of God to come in its true form – as a kingdom ‘not of this world’ – is through weakness and vulnerability, sacrifice and love?” – p 69

Powerful and timely words, these are, and McLaren is speaking them at a point in American history when Christianity is becoming so politicized as to be rejected more for its politics than for its message of salvation.

On the other hand, and by his own admission, McLaren is not a priest, i.e., he is not one who is a biblical scholar or skilled in discerning what biblical teachings are timeless and those that are culturally influenced. As a result, he sometimes makes statements that are unnecessary and/or untenable. Touching on the matter of future things, he says,

Others – and I am among them, although I was born and thoroughly indoctrinated into the former approach – believe that neither the Bible nor the teachings of Jesus are intended to give us a timeline of the future. In our view, God intended to create our universe the way parents give birth to a child: the child is given limits and guidance, but she also has freedom to live her own life. That means that the future of the universe is not determined as if it were a movie that’s already been filmed and is just being shown to us. Nor is it completely left to chance like dice cast on a table. Rather, God’s creation is maturing with both freedom and limits under the watchful eye of a caring parent. So what we find in the Bible and the teachings of Jesus are not determining prognostications or schematic diagrams of the future but instead something far more valuable: warnings and promises.”

Certainly there is much truth in what he has said here, but there is also much that has been ignored or left unexplained. When McLaren attempts to turn theologian or exegete, he is out of his depth. He is more philosophical than theological, more esoteric than exegetic. This is not a character flaw or a reason to dismiss everything he says; it is a reason to read his writings with discernment, rejecting his misconceptions (not deceptions) and profiting from his legitimate exhortations.

Which leads to my second point and one which, unintentionally and unconsciously, McLaren makes himself. The second point is that McLaren is an old wineskin. He grew up in the church – a fundamentalist church, as he says – and was innoculated as a child to the variant strains of Christianity spreading like hearty viruses throughout the Christendom of his youth. As he grew older, however, the innoculation seemed to lose its effectiveness: he jettisoned the fundamentalist mentality and set off to find a new and better way.

Therein lies the problem: there is obviously a bad taste in McLaren’s mouth about his early, fundamentalist upbringing; he is so soured on the old that he too often unnecessarily and mistakenly rejects what is good and true. So strong is his dislike and distrust of anything remotely “fundamentalist” that he could be considered “fundaphobic” – if there were such a thing.

Though being an “old wineskin,” McLaren does not burst but he cannot help but distort the flavor of the fresh, new wine he seeks to serve to others. It does not seem possible for him to achieve a rapprochement between what fundamentalism had right and what he now rightly proclaims.

The fault is in his shortcomings as a priest – or, more accurately, as a scribe, a biblical scholar who is able to “rightly divide the word of truth.” He is a poor theologian at many points and exegetically completely dependent upon the expertise of others; the “expertise” of others is determined by whether or not they support and agree with his position. (He is hardly alone in that proclivity.)

It would not be a mistake, perhaps, to reject or ignore McLaren totally: the church is not dependent on any one individual for its continuance or health. But it would be, I think, unprofitable to reject or ignore him completely. It requires discernment and careful reading to gather his roses without being pricked by his thorns, but he is – in his prophetic role – a voice with much to say for those who have ears discerning ears to hear.

I’m thinking about coming out with my own new paraphrase of the Bible. There is little doubt in my mind about the inestimable market for this idea and how widely it will be embraced. It is a version whose time has come, as I’m sure you’ll agree.

Let me give you a taste of what this will be like (following the practice of The Amplified Bible, my additions will be italicized with the NASB text in boldface font). Here’s a sampling of my new version – which I’m calling the “Non-abusive Version Expanded Loquaciously (NaVEL) – that improves and sanitizes a famous verse from the life of Jesus Christ:

Now, I realize that this is only My perception of things but – even though I have laid aside certain aspects of My divine nature – I hope and pray that there is something you might find helpful or at least heuristic in my words. I say this as someone who cares, not as an enemy. Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! Even though I use the somewhat-loaded words “woe” and “hypocrites,” I am doing this only to get your attention and with the hope that it may enable Me to connect with you in a meaningful way. For you are like whitewashed tombs which on the outside appear beautiful – and on the outside you really are beautiful, so white and freshly washed, and my hope in saying any of this is so that your inward nature might approach the wonderful person you seem to be on the outside – but inside they are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness. Please don’t fail to note that I said that you “are like” these things, not that you actually are. I’m not saying, or, at least, I don’t mean to imply that you are somehow defiled or defiling others. I’m just trying to help. Sorry if I’ve gone too far.” – Mt 23.27 (NaVEL)

It’s obvious and remarkably instructive how my version facilitates connecting with the lost! It is no less effective, however, in speaking with fellow believers, as is apparent from another famous verse from the lips of our Lord and Savior:

But turning around – by which I am not at all suggesting that Jesus was repenting at this point, since the Greek word here is different from that which is typically translated ‘repented’ wherever it occurs – and seeing His disciples, He rebuked Peter, in the nicest and least offensive fashion possible, in that He was perfect, and *said, ‘Get behind Me, Satan; (although when I say ‘Satan’ I’m being figurative and with a twinkle in My eye and a smile on My face, thus letting you know that you shouldn’t take this too seriously and certainly not personally) for you are not setting your mind on God’s interests, but man’s, even though there’s nothing at all wrong with your interests: some of your observations and ideas may (and probably many times are) superior to My own. But you might want to consider that in this particular instance I could be correct.‘” – Mk 8.33 (NaVEL)

Again, we see the strength of the NaVEL: not only does it put Jesus in a better, more socially acceptable light but it also cleans up the language of the gospel writer by explaining some choices of words that could have been better. (You also may have noticed my own clever marketing scheme, i.e., “NaVEL.” This way “Quiet Times” can be replaced with the more appropriate “NaVEL Gazing”!)

This stroke (of genius) came to me this morning as I was writing a comment elsewhere and became aware of how much I was bending over (backwards, I think) to make sure that I wasn’t misunderstood or taken the wrong way by the author of the post or any of his sycophants that might be lurking in the cybershadows, waiting to pounce at the first whiff of criticism.

Shifting gears (to a more serious consideration of this phenomenon), this seems to be required and necessary a great majority of the time on far too many Christian blogs, but the essential question is, “Why is it necessary?” Are our egos so inflated that we are unable to accept criticism, even when it is poorly offerred? Time and time again I find myself carefully crafting a comment so that (a) it will very difficult to shoot the messenger, and (b) it will be hard or next to impossible to seize upon a minor, parenthetical comment and ignore the heart of the criticism.

Take, for example, the subtitle of this post. I added the “apology” to Calvinists because “Tulip” is a word that has theological value for them. I doubt that Tiny Tim had them in mind when he grabbed his ukulele and sang “Tiptoe through the Tulips” on television during the last century. But since many Reformed bloggers and readers are easily offended, I put up a disclaimer – albeit only partially serious.

The truth is that no single denomination – whether Reformed or Unreformed – has the corner on an inflated sense of self-importance. We all do and we would all do well to let a lot of air our of our puffed up egos. We take ourselves far too seriously and then regard the message far less seriously than we should. I am as susceptible as many, I suppose, to imagining that others are guilty for hurting my feelings – but I’m trying, Ringo. I’m trying real hard. (Guess the reference, win a prize.)

Why I or anyone else should imagine that we are above being maligned, misrepresented, and mistreated by others is beyond me. After all, none of us is really that important. As Christians, we should be quick to state the obvious when some of our own strut around like peacocks in their new Emperor’s clothes; as those who are caught naked, we should be quick to repent and thank a brother for their faithful wounds. And we should avoid those who plant deceitful kisses on our backsides.

Too often, my toes get stepped on because I’ve got them sticking out where they don’t belong. That is, I take offense even when none is given. That, without question, was the problem of the Pharisees, Sadduccees, scribes, and others during Christ’s days: they drew and we draw circles or boundaries that are far too restrictive or expansive. Too restrictive in that we don’t tolerate the criticisms of others very well; too expansive in that our sense of personal holiness is violated with Pharisaical regularity.

The bottom line is this: we need to stop whining about how someone said what they said and, instead, pay attention to what they said. It may be God trying to reach us through them but, if we’re always disqualifying the messenger because they don’t meet our unbiblical standards of niceties, we’re asking for God to body-slam us into true spiritual awareness and sensitivity.

Here’s my vow, as of today: I will not intentionally give offense to anyone, but neither will I tiptoe around the ridiculous, tender, over-developed sensibilities of others. I’ll speak straight and directly in (hopefully) language that is at once easily understood and gracious. I’ll try to speak the truth in love, not the truth in some 21st century, misguided, impotent, non-offensive gibberish that winds up saying nothing. That’s not love.

If I offend others, I’ll apologize; if others take offense, I’ll remember two things: one, that what other people think of me is none of my business and, two, my life-verse: “Woe to you when all men speak well of you, for their fathers used to treat the false prophets in the same way” (lk 6.26).

It’s important to have the right enemies, after all, and to have the wrong people saying wrong things about you.

Most of the time Tim Challies and I see things pretty similarly; in fact, today is the first time I’ve read one of his posts and found myself scratching my head and wondering about what he was saying and how he came to such conclusions. (Not that my disagreement is important or noteworthy to Tim: he gets more hits in an hour than I get in a week.)

The puzzling post is The Obligation to Assume, which is a reaction to a post by Joe Carter at evangelical outpost entitled My Problem with Sullivanism. I find myself in the unusual position of having issues with both Tim and Joe, a rare occurrence. I’ll address both through Tim’s post since he is reacting to Joe’s post in his own.

Still with me?

By way of introduction, let me explain that the “Sullivan” in question is Andrew Sullivan, a professed Christian and proponent/practitioner of homosexual behavior. Joe writes in response to Sullivan’s article in Time magazine, My Problem with Christianism.

Early in his post, Tim writes,

I can’t imagine why Joe began this article with a comparison of the intolerance of Fred Phelps (the ‘God Hates Fags’ preacher from Topeka, Kansas) and Andrew Sullivan.”

This is merely a passing comment Tim makes and not at all the subject of his post, but I thought I would try to clear up any confusion about Joe’s reference. It seems to be nothing more than a study in contrasts: Sullivan and Phelps are polar opposites, Sullivan being an advocate of homosexuality and Phelps the self-appointed judge of all things homoerotic. The irony that Joe may be hinting at is that Sullivan and Phelps do have something in common, albeit to different degrees: intolerance of others.

The focus of Tim’s post, though, is the matter of whether Joe is correct in his acceptance of – or giving the benefit of the doubt to – Sullivan and his claim to being a Christian. I agree with Tim in his concerns about whitewashing Sullivan, but disagree with his reasoning and means of dealing with the whitewashed.

Whitewash

Tim takes issue – rightly so – with Joe’s reference to Sullivan as a brother in Christ. From his post, Joe seems to base his assumption of salvation on some vague assertions made by Sullivan in an interview. Sullivan’s statements possess “plausible deniability,” however, and do not explicitly refer to Jesus Christ as much more than a spiritual guru or guide; nowhere in the quoted portion of the interview does Sullivan talk about Christ as the Savior, the Atonement for our sins, God, or anything else. In short, Joe’s basis for an assumption of Sullivan’s salvation is flimsy if based only on his remarks in the interview.

Personally, I would rather be wrong about someone not being a believer than to assume that they are, only to find out later that I’ve been wrong. In the former situation, the person is temporarily offended; in the latter, eternally damned. Big difference.

Joe, however, approaches the dilemma quite differently:

Let me clarify what I mean by a ‘brother in Christ’ by defining what I don’t mean when I use that term: I don’t mean that I know their salvation is assured (only God knows the answer to that one); I don’t mean that I have evidence of his regeneration (he appears to have a long way to go on the road to sanctification); and I don’t mean that he is not on the road to apostasy. All it means is that I take him at his word: that he confesses to being a follower of Jesus Christ.”

To “take him at his word” seems remarkably naïve for Joe, who typically demonstrates much greater wisdom and discernment. Am I to assume he also takes the word of numerous celebrities and the uncelebrated hoi polloi who claim to be Christians although practicing unbiblical behaviors and promoting unbiblical beliefs? Joe seems to be channeling Brian McLaren in this regard.

The litmus test that Christians are allowed – or commanded – to utilize in determining the validity of someone’s salvation is the fruit they bring forth; the fruit is not a lifestyle, as many believe, but rather the teaching to which they adhere and espouse. Clearly Sullivan’s teaching, regardless of his lifestyle, is unbiblical; this puts him in the category of false prophets (Mt 7.15-20). The sin of homosexual behavior is not a difficult thing to establish: only creative – that is, demonic – hermeneutics can dismiss the practice of homosexuality as “not clearly condemned” by the Bible.

Joe’s position is a reflection of cultural tolerance, baptized under the waters of “it’s not my place.” This is nonsense: the Bible calls upon Christians to be discerning and to evaluate the behaviors and teachings of those who claim the Name of Jesus Christ. To fail to confront or identify false teaching is to fail Christ at that point. As Luther allegedly stated,

If I profess with the loudest voice and clearest exposition every portion of the truth of God except precisely that little point which the world and the devil are at that moment attacking, I am not confessing Christ, however boldly I may be professing Christ. Where the battle rages, there the loyalty of the soldier is proved, and to be steady on all the battlefield besides, is mere flight and disgrace if he flinches at that point.” (Quoted in Schaeffer, The God Who Is There, p. 18

Joe’s equivocating, however, raises a question; Tim, for his part, answers the question. It is this: Are we going to hold Joe to the same standard as N.T. Wright and his comments about Marcus Borg? There was no small amount of castigation and verbal abuse of Wright for his comment that he regards Borg as a believer, despite the latter’s denial of the bodily resurrection of Christ. Will the same voices that so roundly denounced Wright do the same with Joe? If not, a lot of bloggers owe Tom Wright an apology.

I happen to believe that what many said about Wright was judgmental and wrong, but if that is the standard then it needs to be applied evenly and fairly to all. It might be maintained that Borg was denying an essential of the gospel of salvation whereas Sullivan (and Joe) are not guilty of sin of the same magnitude, but that’s untenable. False teaching is false teaching and the consequences should be the same.

Turpentine

As should be evident from the preceding, I agree with Tim in his rejection of Joe’s position. It is when Tim turns to proposing a solution to the problem of such whitewashing that I disagree. Tim says,

As I understand it, there are two main issues here. The first concerns a profession of faith made by someone who is outside the authority of a ‘true’ (a term I will define shortly) local church. The second concerns a profession of faith by someone who is involved in ongoing, unrepentant sin.”

He then goes on to quote from Dave Swavely’s book Who Are You To Judge? (not to be confused with Erwin Lutzer’s book of the same name):

[R]egarding who are the wheat and who are the tares, they [the apostles] left that judgment to God – except in the case of those who were under church discipline. The biblical writers did not attempt to determine or distinguish true believers from false believers within the church . . .

“I would suggest that when someone has professed personal faith in Christ, been baptized in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and identified with the church, we are then under obligation from Scripture to make no negative judgment about the validity of his faith. “

(Swavely’s interpretation of this parable – the wheat and the tares – is curious. Obviously the disciples did determine and distinguish between true and false believers: they obviously saw the difference between the wheat and the tares. What Jesus is saying is that it is not their place to implement punishment and final judgment on unbelievers. While a full exposition of the parable is beyond the scope of this post, suffice it to say that the disciples made the very distinctions Swavely denies.)

Tim explains that a “true” church has three distinguishing and determinative marks: preaching the gospel, administration of baptism and communion, and discipline. He concludes,

If a person has professed faith, been baptized and been received into membership his claim to be a believer has a certain level of credibility. Conversely, if he has refused to be baptized and to be received into membership we would have a good reason to be concerned about his profession.”

To his credit, Tim does not swallow Swavely’s teaching without some modification. Swavely seems to miss instances in the New Testament when believers did make “negative judgments” about others. Those judgments were necessarily predicated on whether or not the person was a Christian: in many cases – but not all – the assumption was that they were. There is no reason to doubt the eternal salvation of Ananias and Sapphira – Peter didn’t question it before bringing their earthly lives to an abrupt end. Certainly he would not have judged unbelievers in this manner (cf. 1 Cor 5.9-13).

What of John’s comments?

Children, it is the last hour; and just as you heard that antichrist is coming, even now many antichrists have appeared; from this we know that it is the last hour.
They went out from us, but they were not really of us; for if they had been of us, they would have remained with us; but they went out, so that it would be shown that they all are not of us.” – 1 Jn 2.18-19

The fact that these false apostles or antichrists left the true apostles indicates (a) that they were at one time in the community of believers, and (b) that John was making a determination about their spiritual status and the validity of their claims to be Christians – unless somehow one can be a Christian and an antichrist at the same time! (Before anyone accuses me of eisogesis because (a) and (b) are not in the text, let me say that these are logical conclusions to be derived from the text. That is not eisogesis but common sense.)

And what are we to make of Paul’s deliverance of the believer to Satan (1 Cor 5.1-5)? In disagreement with Swavely, I think it is evident that Christians are called upon to judge the sinful behaviors and false teachings of other Christians – to make “negative judgments – even to the extent of concluding that they were not believers.

I begin to part company with Tim when he makes the following statement with regard to Sullivan:

Like everyone else in North America where churches abound, he has had every opportunity to place himself under the authority of a biblical church. And this is exactly what we would expect of a person who has been indwelt by the Holy Spirit. We would assume that such a person would be naturally drawn towards other believers.”

Either Tim is being naïve about the sin nature and the ploys of the enemy, overly simplistic, or a doctrinal belief in perseverance and/or temporary believers is emerging here. Do people in unbiblical churches choose them because they believe they are unbiblical? Or do they choose or remain in a church because of what they have been taught or led to believe by others?

Is it true that every true Christian will be “naturally drawn” to a biblical church or to other believers, as Tim maintains? I must confess that I am not at all drawn to a great number of believers: this is due not to doctrinal differences but to attitudes of smugness, arrogance, and superiority that they display. I’ve no doubt that an equal number are repulsed by me for the same reasons. I love these snot-nosed, self-righteous brothers but I don’t like them and don’t choose to fellowship with them. That’s a reality. Tim’s statement is far too broad to be useful.

With regards to a “biblical church,” Tim seems to be defining “biblical” as a church whose doctrinal positions are acceptable to him, even though he may not completely embrace the positions himself. But by his own definition of what constitutes a “true church,” he cannot introduce additional requirements. Sadly, there are churches that do preach a gospel that facilitates the work of the Spirit in salvation, faithfully baptize and regularly observe communion, and hold to some form of church discipline – but at the same time promote practices and beliefs that are clearly unbiblical.

When Tim writes,

If he was not convicted of his sin and did not turn in repentance, it would be assumed that he was not saved and the church would bear the sad responsibility of excommunicating him in the hope that this drastic action would cause him to repent”

Again, it is clear that his Reformed doctrine is leading him to these conclusions. That is fine – I applaud him for have studied so diligently as to have a deep theological belief and understanding of soteriology and ecclesiology – but I wonder about (a) how this unsaved person slipped under the radar of a biblical church and became a member, thus creating (b) the necessity of excommunicating an non-Christian. Does the church excommunicate unbelievers? This is an area of Reformed theology I have not studied, but it seems peculiar to me, to say the least. I had always believed that excommunication was limited to believers, to the exclusion of unbelievers.

The most troubling comment from Tim comes at the end of his post. Concerning Sullivan, he writes:

I feel that we have no obligation to assume that he is a true believer. Of course this does not necessarily mean that he is unsaved. By God’s grace he may be. Neither you nor I can know for certain. But neither do we bear the obligation of assuming that he is a brother in Christ.”

This is fence-straddling. It is incumbent upon the local church – which consists of individual members – to come to a conclusion about people such as Sullivan or, for that matter, Borg. Otherwise, church discipline is impossible: if Sullivan is a believer, then church discipline is necessary – and if Sullivan is not commited to any local church, then some church (perhaps his last one) still needs to deliver him over to Satan for the destruction of his flesh (again, 1 Cor 5). If Sullivan is not a Christian, then we need to pray for his salvation and careful explain the gospel of salvation through Jesus Christ.

Equivocation is not an option in such cases. If the former condition exists and church discipline fails, Paul commands,

Now we command you, brethren, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you keep away from every brother who leads an unruly life and not according to the tradition which you received from us.” – 2 Th 3.6

Since this is obviously not to be our reaction to a non-Christian, we simply must come to some conclusion about whether a person is a believer or not. There is a reason and purpose for ascertaining, based on behavior and teaching, the spiritual condition of others. Otherwise, we have no way of knowing how to conduct ourselves or how to treat other people, whether in or out of the Kingdom of God.

When I first began blogging a year-and-a-half ago, it was with a purpose: to change the perspectives of any readers, albeit ever so slightly, and to produce a little more charity, mercy and grace among Christian bloggers.

My first blog (not post) was entitled, The Non-Prophet Church, a name I dropped when I realized that there was at least one, somewhat-obscure denomination that actually had a “sub-denomination” with the same title. Not wanting to be confused with that group, I switched the name to Eternal Perspectives (I later found out that Randy Alcorn’s ministry uses Eternal Perspective and wrote him, offering to change the name of my blog if he so desired. He didn’t respond so, as my lawyer friends inform me, he who is silent is assumed to agree.).

The goal of this blog was never to change anyone’s doctrinal beliefs and only on occasion to present or defend my own. Of course, my writings – including reviews of books and comments on passages – reflected my theological positions but I didn’t seek to proselytize. I know what I believe and why I believe it, know what others believe and why they believe it, and only desired to change the tone of the conversations that took place in cyberspace.

I might as well have tried to catch the wind (HT: Donovan).

Realistically, I don’t think any of the blogging I’ve done here over the past 18 months – all 239 posts and 567 comments – have made any difference in the acerbic and vitriolic nature of blogging on many of the more popular blogs. Like the Orcs to which I refer at my other blog, these reckless and loveless blogs seem to delight in slashing and hacking their way through the Christian community, leaving in their wake a swath of bruised, battered, and bewildered bloggers whose only sin was to disagree with the big bullies of Godblogs. The trousered apes with laptops continue their ways: it is the essence of their nature, I suppose, reinforced by a doctrinal tradition that allows them to withhold mercy, grace, and love from anyone who is different from them on even the minutia of Christian truth. If this is a reflection of who God is, is it any wonder unbelievers are repulsed – not by God Himself but – by His self-styled ambassadors?

Those who agree with my positions and cry for decency towards others – not snuffing out a smoldering wick or breaking off a bruised reed – have only been more confirmed in their own positions. This is not a bad thing – i.e., to encourage others – but it was not the purpose of the blog initially. That is, however, the purpose of the other blog: it is a place for eirenic discussion and a place where the knuckle-dragging bullies will be ousted immediately and with great joy. No Orcs or servants of Saruman allowed, thank you very much.

All this does not mean that I will never post here again: some issues simply won’t fit at The Lord of the Kingdom and I will post them here as they arise. But it is to say that the initial purpose of this blog is unattainable, the dream and hope of an idealist, and far beyond my grasp. As a Romantic, I imagined the bullies would listen to reason; they won’t. Like the arrogant, secular philosophers and critics they so resemble, these blogging bullies’ “greatest joy is to be shocking, and their greatest fear is to be ignored” (Peter Kreeft, p. 15).

Here’s to being shock-proof and ignoring those who sow discord among brothers.