Eternal Perspectives

Yesterday I promised to post on the matter of giving offense vs. taking offense, something that was stirred or spurred by some condemnatory remarks to a good-natured joke aimed at Calvinists. The joke appeared on Kacy’s Semper Reformanda blog; you can read there (”10 Reasons Why I Am a Calvinist“) and be sure to read the caustic comments, too. (HT to David at Jollyblogger.)

But I did not post the second part of my response; this is to explain why. Not that any of you were likely greatly disappointed by my failure – or that anyone even notice – but for the purging of my own soul, I guess.

Here’s the problem. A week ago today I did something I have not done in a long time: I joined a men’s Bible study at church. I did it because a friend, who is leading the overall study, asked me to come. So I did, joining a small group in which I already had one friend and had heard very good things about the group facilitator. I was not disappointed: the group consists of seven or eight good, committed men who are eager to explore the subject matter, Rom 6-8. The men range in age from around 21 to near 60 (my old, grey-haired friend).

I have had a low profile since returning to this church after an absence of almost five years, so I don’t think anyone other than my friend had any idea who I am, where I came from, or what my background might be. Which is fine: I don’t think I need a press agent to prepare – or warn – others of my approach. I do, however, tend to speak up when I have an opinion and I do tend to offer a “dissenting” view of things. (Every church needs someone to fulfill this prophetic role, i.e., someone to cry out “Right!” if everyone is going Left, or “Left!” if everyone is going Right. Balance is a verb, not a noun, in my book.)

So everything went very well for the first 30-45 minutes. Good comments and observations were made that reflected careful study and serious interest. As I said before, these are good men.

But then a comment was made that surprised me but shouldn’t have. Someone started talking about our identity in Christ and our view of ourselves, saying that this is important for our sanctification. It surprised me because I am naive – which is embarrassing at any age, but especially mine; it shouldn’t have suprised me because our former pastor had spent years and years going through the Book of Romans and distorting it to support a couple of books he wrote.

In the books – Revolution Within and Releasing the Rivers Within – Dwight Edwards had ignored the forensic nature of Romans, misappropriated much of the New Covenant, and borrowed freely some phrases and ideas from a book by David Needham (Birthright: Christian Do You Know Who You Are?). The major premise of Edwards’ books is that the Christian is already in full possession of all the promises made in Romans and elsewhere and that the only thing that remains is to “release” the reality. We have, according to him, a new heart, a new purity, a new nature, a new everything-that-has-been-said. This is fine and biblical, but it stops being biblical when Edwards contends that we have all of it now in our possession.

In short, as I told him one time, Edwards believes that at the moment of salvation every Christian becomes fully mature and in full possession of all the promises; the believer is a fully grown adult. In contrast, I argued (with the support of Cranfield, Moo, and 2,000 years of orthodoxy), that we are born spiritual infants and grow into maturity and possession over time. We are becoming practically what God has declared us to be positionally, i.e., in His eyes. But we never have all of it in this lifetime, except forensically.

Or, to put it another way, I maintain that believers have been declared righteous while he teaches that we have been made righteous. Sorry, but God’s righteousness is His righteousness: it never becomes ours. We are righteous only because we are in Christ; all of Christian life exists in union with our Savior. There is nothing that is outside our union with Him.

Returning to last week, the comment came up reflecting Edwards false teaching. I began to argue against it but, sensing that I was attacking a sacred cow, I pulled back and reconsidered. And, to repeat myself, here’s the problem.

I have never walked away from a spiritual fight in my church. I don’t feel compelled to confront or correct error when I encounter it in other Christians (unless asked), but the purity of the local church of which I am a member has always been worth fighting for. But this time I didn’t. In an email to a good friend, I explained why:

If the sheep want to lap up that stuff, it’s not my place to try to stop them: they’re not my sheep, after all, and I’m not their shepherd. I’ve spent far too long running around as a self-appointed shepherd/prophet trying to protect people that didn’t want me to protect them, so I’m just going to let it go. I’ll do my own study on Romans (I was doing that anyway) and if anyone in the group wants to know something, I’ll offer what I think. But I’ll steer clear of the new covenant foolishness, since Dwight’s position is still the official party line on sanctification (in the eyes of the pew dwellers – and some of the elders).

(I should add that the new pastor – a good friend and a good man – does not agree with Edwards either and opposed it from the start. He’s got a bit of a mess to clean up.)

I have learned the lesson of backing off the hard way. For far too long I have tried to fight battles without sufficient or adequate authority to do so, exhausting myself in the process and accomplishing little other than to stir up a lot of dust. I was in charge of men’s ministry at one church but, because the senior pastor was not fully behind it (he was a Momma’s boy), little came of it. Finally, when I left the church, they hired an associate pastor to oversee it and it has gone well and done good – much better than it ever did when I was leading it. I don’t attribute that just to him being in a staff position: he has abilities and gifts that I do not.

There is something about having a union card – being ordained – that automatically grants a person authority and credibility, warranted or not. Despite the fact that I have a couple of seminary degrees, it doesn’t count for much without the “anointing” of the church. In fact, it makes one suspect in the eyes of many.

Of course, it doesn’t help that the former pastor disparaged seminary whenever the opportunity arose. This was likely because he wasn’t able to bear the scrutiny and rigor of seminary himself, but he left in his wake an anti-intellectual climate that discourages academic pursuits. This is quite ironic: this church exists primarily to reach the students at Texas A&M and its elder board has historically consisted of tenured professors or professional men with graduate degrees.

But I digress. The point of all of this is why I did not post as promised. It was because of all of the above, but especially my inward exploration to discover why I walked away from a fight. And then told someone else (the overseeing pastor) to fight it. This pastor is a good man but already overwhelmed by his work load. Besides that, I don’t know if he understands all the problems with the previous teaching or not.

Am I getting old? Or am I getting wise? Or do I not care anymore about the church? Those are the questions I struggled with over the past week, and I still don’t have an answer. Until I do, it will be difficult for me to think about or focus on much else. (I won’t even get into whether or not my time should be spent on my local church or blogging: both are ministry – to me – but which is the higher priority? I think I know the answer, but I just don’t like it.)

I will do the GO vs. TO post soon. I promise.

A post by Andy, one of my earliest friends in the blogosphere, caught my attention awhile ago and triggered some thoughts. You can read his full declaration at SmartChristian; here is the relevant paragraph:

I am thinking emergent these days. Why? Because those engaging in the Emerging Church Movement are at least asking relevant questions and not settling for the church status quo (Churchianity).

Just before running across Andy’s statement, I had finished Love Your God with All Your Mind by J.P. Moreland (a very good book, BTW). In his chapter Recapturing the Intellectual Life in the Church, he writes:

Third, we need to make a careful distinction between forms and functions in the church. A New Testament function is an absolute biblical mandate that every church must do – for example, edify believers, worship God, evangelize the lost, and so forth. Functions are unchanging nonnegotiables.

“By contrast, a form is a culturally relative means of fulfilling biblical functions. Forms are valuable as a means to accomplish those functions and should be constantly evaluated, kept, or replaced in light of their effectiveness . . .

“Serious harm has been done to our churches by confusing forms and functions and by clinging to the former just because we have always done them a certain way. We have no right to adjust our functions, but we have a duty to examine constantly our forms. A church that does not do this will have a lot to answer for at the judgment seat of the Head of the church.”

These cautions have applicability to the emergent church movement. Andy is correct when he says the movement is “at least asking relevant questions”; my concern is with the answers some are providing for those questions. The line between form and function has been blurred.

The function of the church is inseparable from the content of its message, emphases, and destiny. The form can and should change, as Moreland says, but the function must be intact if a local church is to keep its lampstand (Rev 2:5). When issues such as the content of the gospel, holiness, and others are compromised – or when a philosophy is adopted that is antithetical to absolute truth – then that church or movement is headed in a perilous direction.

It is not necessary to adopt the function that some emergent church leaders advocate in order to adapt the form to a particular church. To the extent that the questions being asked by the emergent church movement are focused on form, then every church should be examining itself to see if it, too, needs to change. But when the questions – or, rather, the answers – begin to alter the function of the church, it is time to be very discerning.

God has given us remarkable freedom when it comes to form. He basically says, “Do church however you want.” But He has also been careful to give us answers to the function of the church, and to meddle or modify these commands and imperatives is to trample on holy ground.

Note: see my previous post below, or click here.

A couple of other things that I would pray for Godbloggers if I actually did pray for Godbloggers:

Ears to Hear

We don’t seem to do a very good job of listening to one another; I am no exception. There are times when I am reading a post that I am struck by an idea and chase it wherever it leads, all the while continue to “read” the post in front of me. (We all tend to do the same thing when in a conversation or argument: we’re thinking about what we’ll say as soon as the other person shuts up.) Then I either write my own post or enter a comment that is only tangentially connected to the original post. Whatever the author was actually saying turns out to be just a springboard for my own vain thoughts, and I lose the value of another’s input.

Perhaps even more frequent – and more tragic – is when someone disagrees with us on our blog and writes a comment to that effect. We are prone to respond defensively to criticism, whether it is constructive or not, offered in love or not. We do not always give their point of view a proper hearing, feeling offended instead and responding with a dismissive retort. And the discussion goes downhill from there.

Of course, we also hijack one another’s comments section. Somehow we cannot discipline ourselves to follow the lead of the blogger and instead take the discussion off in our own direction, usually to our favorite little hobby horse or pet peeve. When we do that, however, we discourage and frustrate an in-depth exploration of that issue or idea the author initially put before us. It is as if we ignore her points in order to make our own. Another opportunity to learn is lost.

We like the sound of our own voice; we like to see our own words on the screen before us. After all, who can say it as well as me? Which leads to my last and, perhaps, most important non-prayer for the Blogdom:

Humility

Whether we are or not, we often come across as arrogant and having an inflated sense of our own importance. Our blogs sometimes are ethereal examples of Paul’s warning: “Knowledges makes arrogant” (1 Cor 8:1 c). Humility, says James Sire, is a virtue without which “every virtue begins to become a vice.” In his section on intellectual virtues in Habits of the Mind, he writes,

Lack of humility – arrogance – is, in fact, one of the most frequent charges against intellectuals . . . The real problem, however, is not the charge that you are arrogant but the distinct possibility that you actually are.”

Quoting Weaver, he continues:

‘What do you desire? Vain glory? Profit? Then you are but a pseudo-intellectual.’ We must take our cue from the great Christan intellectuals of the past: They knew ‘that the proud theologian was a living contradiction in terms.’”

Middleton:

It’s not the childlike asking of questions or the honest admission of doubt that will get you into trouble with God. It’s the unstinting belief, the confidence, the certainty that you – that I – have all the answers, either because we’re smart, or because we’re honest, or because we’re scientific, or because we’re Christians, or because we have a Reformational worldview.”

It does no injustice to Middleton to add, “or because we have a Dispensational theology, an Arminian perspective, a Kingdom Theological approach, or any other system of doctrine that forms our worldview.” One of the best lessons I learned in seminary was Dr. Bruce Demarest first presenting and then dismantling Covenant, Dispensational, Kingdom, and Promise-Fulfillment theologies in order. The lesson? No system of theology can do justice to all the material; all fall short and either distort or omit critical passages or principles. Therefore, hold your theology firmly but gently: you are undoubtedly wrong at many points.

(Dr. Demarest, by the way, was one of the more humble men I have ever met. Although he has a remarkable mind and trained under F.F. Bruce to gain his doctorate in New Testament, he never held it with an attitude of superiority – even when some Moody Bible Institute students verbally attacked and ridiculed him in class. I caught a glimpse of Christ through him.)

Still borrowing from Sire, who quotes Neuhaus:

Few things have contributed so powerfully to the unbelief of the modern and postmodern world as the pretension of Christians to know more than we do . . . If Christians exhibited more iintellectual patience, modesty, curiosity, and sense of adventure, there would be fewer atheists in the world, both of the rationalist and the postmodern varieties.”

Don’t get off on election here: his point is valid and important. We are not very attractive at times, neither to unbelievers nor to one another. One more quote:

Describing the state of knowledge centuries ago, Thomas Aquinas said, ‘No philosopher has ever been able completely to know the essence of even a single fly.’ He was right then. And Lewis Thomas is right in our age: ‘We do not understand a flea.’”

Why we act as though it is otherwise is a reflection of our immaturity. There are, of course, many things that we can know with certainty: they are the declarative statements of the Bible. But the moment we venture into interpretation, we should take with us ample caveats and sufficient humility to allow that we might be wrong.

We do not possess omniscience. We have but a smattering of wisdom. We have much to learn, even from the most unlikely of sources. If we do not learn, if we cut ourselves off from those who “have nothing to say to us” because they are from a different tradition, then we have no one but ourselves to thank for our continuing ignorance and inevitable stagnation. We do not walk in wisdom when we do so.

I have written elsewhere about my concerns that too many unqualified people are making dogmatic, general statements about matters they do not fully understand. In some ways, this is a counter-balance to that post. We do need to be discerning but we should never dismiss someone’s observations without having first listened. All deserve to be heard, although not all should be given the same authority when they speak. We must be discerning enough to reject what is false, but humble enough to admit when they are correct and we are wrong.

It’s in quotes because I don’t really pray for the blogosphere. Maybe I should, but I don’t. I do pray for some individual members from time to time, when God brings them to mind or I’m aware that they’re going through a particularly tough time at present.

Like Joshua at Razorskiss (”Sorrow“). I pray for him because he opened his heart and bled all over his blog. That takes some courage. And strength. So I pray and thank God for him.

If I did pray for the Blogdom of God (not the aggregator, but all of us Godbloggers), here are some of the things I’d pray for (or, “for which I would pray”) and why. No certain order.

Love

In a couple of ways:

Biting our tongues. First, that we’d be better at interacting with one another in a gentle and Christlike way. I’m not talking about those times when somebody is railing against this person or that church and clearly needs to be confronted and rebuked. There is a time for harsh words, if that’s what it takes to get the other person’s attention or to at least demonstrate the importance of the issue.

No, I’m talking about the everyday posts and – especially – comments we leave on one another’s blogs. Before going any further on this one, let me admit my own failure: I was unkind and unfair to Eric of Ales Rarus in a comment I left last week at Evangelical Underground. I apologized later, but the harm was already done. My sin. No excuses.

Any of you who have read more than a handful of comments around the Blogdom know what I’m talking about. We rip into one another as though we have just found a mortal enemy, someone who has endangered or threatened that which is essential to life. We are demeaning, dismissive, condescending, and hateful.

We would do well to remember that the tongue about which James warns us (Jas 3:7-10) extends to the fingers that rest upon the keypad of our computers.

With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in the likeness of God; from the same mouth come both blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not to be this way.”

Most of us probably shy away from the use of profanity towards one another – at least in public or out loud – but James tell us in no uncertain terms that we are cursing image bearers with what we say and how we say it. So, I’d pray that we would not do that so much, if at all.

Loving our toes and elbows. A second facet of loving has to do with accepting our differences. We are different, after all, and we will always be different in this lifetime – and, to some degree – even in the new heaven and new earth (don’t turn this into a debate about the eternal state: stay focused!).

We are members of a Body – we say we know this, but our behavior at times betrays our unbelief – and thus we have different functions and purposes. Some are better at one thing and some at other things. That’s a good thing, because there are some things I not only cannot do but do not want to do. But this has nothing to do with having different value or importance, although it may affect how visible we are to one another.

It is striking to me to see that many of us – who deeply treasure and value our individuality – are so unkind to those who are not like us. The irony, of course, is that if it were not for them we would lose our individuality! More on this later.

But now God has placed the members, each one of them, in the body, just as He desired. If they were all one member, where would the body be? But now there are many members, but one body. And the eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you’; or again the head to the feet, ‘I have no need of you’” (1 Cor 12:18-21)

God has seen fit to make us interdependent; it is foolishness and immaturity that makes us go off on people who disagree or see things differently. At the risk of making this metaphor walk on all fours, think of it like this: you may be an eye and have the ability to see far beyond what others can view. Yet, without another eye that has a slightly different perspective on things, you have no depth perception and can only see things in a flat, two-dimensional field. You see, but you have no depth. You can tell yourself otherwise, but you have limited yourself needlessly.

We need one another because we are different, not in spite of our differences. God knew what He was doing and, if we really believe Him and trust Him as we say we do, we’ll start appreciating the differences He intends for us to have. Let others be who God intended them to be; don’t try to make people they way you want them to be. Which is probably more like you.

Identity in Christ. Some of us need to stand out and be different, some of us are terrified to do that; in both cases, if we are doing it because of our needs, we are living in the flesh. One is not worse than the other, although the former is certainly more irritating than the latter.

There are those in the Blogdom who are careful to steer a middle course and not take a position that is even remotely against the tide or likely to draw attention to ourselves. To the extent we do that, we neglect our gifts and deprive others in the Body from benefitting from what God has entrusted to us. Spiritual gifts are community gifts, not personal ones to be used or enjoyed just by ourselves. We all have something to contribute: don’t hide it under a bushel or bury it in a field (Mt 5:15; Mt 25:24 ff.).

This flip side is no less true. More than a few are compelled to always go against the flow, as though the only way they can define themselves is by the contrast they create. They always take the minority view, always see things differently, tend to be negative, and are shrewish with their praise.

Though they appear to be loners and strong, they are actually isolated and weak: they fear that they will not be able to maintain their identity if they join the throng, and thus they must pull away to salvage their sense of individuality. Many times they seem bitter; underneath they are just hurt.

The solution for both of these weaker brothers is the same: an understanding and acceptance of who they are in the Body of Christ. All have something to give, all have something to learn; all are different in some way, all are the same in some way. Like the flowers in a field, we are all unique; like the flowers, however, we are more beautiful and healthier when we are clustered together and sharing our similarities.

God created us for community; in order for community to exist, there must be individuals that make up the community. We are not intended for co-uniformity. The one and the many, the many and the one; diversity in unity, unity in diversity.

We all struggle to find a balance in our lives between individuality and intimacy. Christ Jesus has created that balance for us in His Body. Learn to be a part of the Body most of the time; learn to be apart from the Body at other times. You are always a part of the Body and you never stop being who you are.

Adrian at UK EVANGELICAL BLOG has stuck his thumb in more than a few eyes with his posts about the simple gospel. It seems people have a lot of different opinions about what the gospel is. I’ve commented on this before, but let me add this quote from my current favorite author, BRAD YOUNG:

“True faith is committing all one knows about himself or herself to all he or she knows about God.”

(Technically, this is not “the gospel” in the sense of it being the good news about Jesus Christ. But, according to Acts, the apostles preached about the Kingdom of God. How is that a part of the gospel?)

What do I like about this definition? It fits both the Old Testament and New Testament; that is, the requirement for salvation is the same. Unless you believe that people were saved differently in the Old Testament, which would be problematic.

What say you?

Whose Land? Whose Promise?, by author and professor Gary M. Burge, questions the legitimacy of American evangelicals’ unwavering and unexamined support of a nation he describes as secular, aggressive, and unbiblical. That nation, according to Burge, is Israel.

For his efforts Burge, who is professor of New Testament at Wheaton College & Graduate School, has been labeled anti-Semitic by Jews and Christians alike. His book, at times unclear and generally unbalanced, nevertheless makes some important points that we evangelicals ignore to our own shame.

Overall, Whose Land? Whose Promise is one chapter short of being a great book. Burge, who has spent a considerable amount of time living, visiting, and studying in Jerusalem and the surrounding area, chronicles the problems of the land with tremendous compassion and insight – for the Palestinians. His love for the Palestinian people is to be commended; his failure to empathize with Israel to the same extent is not.

There are some important observations made by Burge, and he draws attention to a variety of policies and attitudes that need to be reconsidered and viewed by evangelicals through a biblical, New Testament lens. It should be required reading for any evangelical who has an opinion about the Israeli/Palestinian struggle.

Whose Land? Whose Promise? is critical of Israel policy, politics, and practices – but rarely, if ever, critical of Palestine. Such criticism is necessary: read any of the prophets in the Old Testament and you will find language that today would be denounced as anti-Semitic. It is not necessarily that Burge says too much, but that he says too little.

As alluded to previously, however, a chapter detailing the atrocities of the Palestinians is sorely lacking. There is no mention of Palestinians terrorists’ attacks on innocent people – Jews, Muslims, and Christians – and Burge seems to want to justify Palestinian violence as retaliatory, defensive, or provoked. But in truth, neither Israeli nor Palestinian hands are clean: there may be genuine explanations for violence and injustice on both sides, but there is never a viable excuse.

It is hard to read Whose Land? Whose Promise? and not be reminded of Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, which is a great book. What made the latter a great book was its insightful and balanced account of the good and bad behavior by Native Americans and the pioneers and soldiers alike. Burge’s book, however, causes a thoughtful reader to be a least mildly suspicious of some of his claims and to wonder about what fuels his one-sided passion.

What is currently happening in Israel/Palestine parallels what events in North America hundreds of years ago, albeit on a smaller scale geographically. The mistakes and tragedies that mark America’s early years in dealing with the resident Native Americans are being replicated in the Middle East today – by both Israels and Palestinians.

As evangelicals, Burge pleades, we need to examine our role in the situation prayerfully and carefully.

After an important introduction, the Burge’s book is divided into three sections: a background on the land and its history, the Old Testament presentation of the land, and the New Testament perspective on the land. This review will follow Burge’s outline.

Introduction

Burge states that the path to resolution in Israel/Palestine leads through at least three hazards: Israeli need for security, return and reparations for Palestinians, and legitimate criticism of Israel. He validates the first two needs and attempts to ward off additional charges of anti-Semiticism by justifying the need for fair criticism of Israel. His criticisms are usually legitimate but, due to the absence of corresponding criticism of the Palestinians, come across as unfair most of the time.

Burge believes there are numerous factors at play that make perspective difficult for American evangelicals:

(more…)

This is the second of a two-part post reviewing Gary M. Burge’s book Whose Land? Whose Promise? What Christians Are Not Being Told About Israel and the Palestinians. The first part followed the author’s exploration of the problems in the Middle East (which center on the land), the geographical and historical aspects of the struggle, and the Old Testament’s testimony about the land of Israel/Palestine and the promises made to Abraham and national Israel. This installment will discuss Burge’s handling of the New Testament arguments concerning the land and the promises, as well as the author’s suggestions for what can be done and should be done.

The New Testament and The Land

Burge begins his examination of the New Testament’s teaching by quoting a Palestinian minister, whose theological position is representative of many Christians from a variety of theological traditions.

“The church . . . has inherited the promises of Israel. The church is actually the new Israel. What Abraham was promised, Christians now possess because they are Abraham’s true spiritual children just as the New Testament teaches” (p. 67) – Father George Makhlouf, St. George’s Greek Orthodox Church in Ramallah.

Those who participated or read some of the excellent comments in the “Americanism and Its Enemies” forum at Evangelical Outpost may remember that the Puritans made similar statements as they prepared to come to the New World. Most Christian traditions do not maintain a clear distinction between ethnic Israel and the church, with the result that many of the promises made in the Old Testament are claimed for and applied to the New Testament church. In order to do that, some theologians find it necessary to “spiritualize” or allegorize passages and promises. This is apparently Burge’s solution, as well.

Arguing from the silence of the New Testament regarding the land, he first seeks to demonstrate that Jesus was not interested in a physical kingdom, Jerusalem, or the temple. To some extent, he is correct: Jesus’ kingdom was to be markedly different than that for which the Jews yearned. Even after the Resurrection, his disciples questions centered on if Jesus was going to restore the physical kingdom at this time.

An explanation of the nature and timing of the kingdom is beyond the scope of this discussion. Suffice it to point out at this juncture, however, that Christ’s reply was not that there would never be such a kingdom because the church would fulfill the promises, but only that it was none of the disciples’ business when God was going to act.

Burge then moves on to spiritualize the meaning of the land itself. “Jesus himself becomes the locus of holy space. The aim of the old covenant was the land of promise; now the aim is Jesus Christ, who walked in the land” (p. 175, emphasis his). Space, the author is saying, has been redefined: it is no longer physical but holy, spiritual space. It no longer exists on earth but in the heavenlies, in the Body and Person of Jesus Christ.

Once again, according to this reviewer, Burge is partially right. The emphasis at this time is on the spiritual kingdom of God (that is, the rule of God in and through those who have believed in Jesus as the Messiah) and only secondarily on material things. But the church is an intercalation, not a replacement: the clock has stopped for Israel and for the land promises made to Abraham, not to start again until some undisclosed point in the future.

“To sum up,” Burge says, “we observe a cycle of responses to the question of land: (1) land is rejected as the aim of faith; (2) land is spiritualized as meaning something else; (3) the promise is historicized in Jesus, a man who lives in the land; (4) the promise is sacramentalized – that is, as a sacrament bears testimony to things beyond what we see and touch (without denying these properties), so too Jesus’ ‘landness’ (his physicality) is a reality, but believers are urged to push further, to find the ‘living water’ and ‘bread of life’ that he offers” (p. 177).

This is a remarkable reading and understanding of the New Testament, made all the more amazing by what follows: an argument in Israel’s defense based on Paul’s teaching in Rom 9-11.

“Finally, Paul retains a special place for unbelieving Israel even though they are ‘broken off’ from God’s people. During the present time, Israel has become ‘hardened’ (11.25), but in the future, after the Gentiles have been ‘grafted in,’ all Israel will be saved once more (11.26-27). Paul thus anticipates a future redemption in the plan of God that will include the Jewish people who originally rejected Christ. Israel might be reattached in the present era, but this can happen only through belief in Jesus (11.23). For the most part, Paul’s hope for Israel is future, at the end of time.” (p. 187).

How this is to be reconciled with his earlier arguments that Israel has lost the land, Burge does not say. Also left unexplained is whether or not, according to Rom 9-11, the Abrahamic and Palestinian Covenants are to be physically fulfilled by Israel in an earthy kingdom. One would assume that Burge’s answer would be that the church is the recipient of those promises. What that leaves redeemed Israel is hard to fathom, unless he is saying that all Israel will be subsumed in the church.

As Burge has argued previously, the land is shadow and heaven is substance. The church – which I would argue is not the New Israel – has no claim to the physical land, and neither does Israel have a biblical mandate while they continue in unbelief. In the future, ethnic Israel will again have claim to the land, but only when it has believed in Jesus as the Messiah.

Palestinian Christians

Burge’s most powerful arguments concern the neglect and abandonment of the Palestinian church by American evangelicals In this criticism, he is completely correct. For unknown reasons, evangelicals have denied either the existence or the sincerity of believers in Jesus Christ who are also Palestinian.

Like the Native Americans in America’s own history, Palestinian Christians have by and large been an ignored and invisible people. They have suffered for their faith and for their ethnicity. Their claim, mentioned in Part 1 of this review, is that they share with the 1st century church the dubious distinction of being persecuted by a Jewish majority. It is difficult to argue with that claim.

The numbers provided by Burge of persecution and maltreatment are staggering. Along with other Palestinians, these fellow believers in Jesus Christ have suffered being beaten, tortured, and murdered; the illegal seizure of land and property; deportation; interment in inhumane refugee camps for decades, and the countless indignities of being viewed and treated as subhuman by the Israeli government.

Burge, on one of his many visits to Israel/Palestine, tells the following conversation he had with a young Palestinian believer.

“’How can America, your America, that believes in freedom, support Israel when it acts like this?’ Such questions are frequent in the Middle East and easy to explain to Palestinians: The United States isn’t a perfect country. We make mistakes even among our allies. Then came the bombshell: ‘But why do American Christians support the Israelis as well? Why don’t they help us? Why not even us, the Palestinian Christians?’” (p. 259, emphasis his).

There is no acceptable answer.

What, then, are the Palestinian Christians’ concerns? Burge identifies the primary ones (pp. 196-203):

1. A plea for visibility and fellowship. “Palestinian Christians want us to embrace them as equals and invite them into fellowship. They want their Christian life to be acknowledged and respected, but they are not waiting for our acknowledgment to in some way make their faith authentic.”

2. A cry for justice. “Palestinian Christians are looking to us for support. They claim that they are reliving for the first time in history the conditions of the first-century church, in which a Christian minority is suffering under the rule of a Jewish majority . . . If one Bible passage has become pivotal to the Palestinian Christians experience, it is the story of Ahab and the vineyard of Naboth from 1 Kings 21.”

3. An historic claim to residence. Rev. Riah Abu El-Assal, an Anglican bishop, “feels that American Christians are often given the following scenario, which is one of the great myths of the Middle East: The Jews owned the land throughout the Old Testament era, were exiled by the Romans in 70 c.e., and in their absence, Arabs moved into the region sometime in the seventh century under the inspiration of Muhammad. Now the Arab interlude is over. The Jews have come home – and therefore the Arab residents with no historic tenure cannot make historic claims to land and residence.”

El-Assal goes on to make two points about the historic relationship between Arabs and Jews. “First, ‘Arab’ is a racial designation of people throughout the Middle East. And Arab ‘Jews’ were commonplace in antiquity. The people were racially Arab and yet embraced Judaism . . . When Israel was exiled in 70 c.e., Jews fled to these Arab Jewish communities in Arabia, Iraq, Egypt, and the Persian Gulf. . . .” His second point is that “Arab Jews were among those converted to Christ in the earliest church. Acts 2.11 specifically includes Arabs as among those converted on Pentecost.”

(Burge argues, “If land promises come to Judaism by virtue of tenure in the land and biblical promise, Arabs who embraced Judaism gain these promises as well, and their faith in Jesus does not invalidate their claims to Jewish ancestry. If we ask, Where did the Arab Christians come from? the answer clearly begins with the Day of Pentecost.”)

4. A disappearing church. The Palestinians, due to the conditions in the land, are leaving in droves. “So many Palestinian Christian have left that towns in which Christians were once as many as 75 percent of the population now have Christian populations of 30 percent or less.”

5. Messianic Judaism. “In the last ten years, Palestinian Christian leaders (particularly Protestants) have explored new supportive relations with another group of Christians in the country, the Messianic Jews. These people are believers in Jesus – Christians – who live in Israel and preserve in their worship those Jewish cultural features common among Israelis.”

The attention given by American evangelicals to Messianic Jews is astonishing given the numbers and theology of the group. According to a 1999 study, “about six thousand believers worship in eighty-one messianic congregations in Israel . . . Because it frames its theology with reference to its Jewish context, this [messianic] movement will embrace positions that might seem surprising – and which present a hurdle to Arab Christians who have embraced the historic creeds of the church. For example, the divinity of Jesus (which leads to belief in the Trinity) is an open question for some” (pp. 196-203, emphasis mine).

Burge next turns his attention to current evangelical attitudes toward the Middle East and, indirectly, Palestinian Christians. He quotes two visible and vocal examples: Jerry Falwell and Kay Arthur.

“Claiming to speak for 70 million American evangelicals, Falwell urged that ‘the Bible belt in America was Israel’s only safety belt today.’ When President George W. Bush called for Israeli restraint against the Palestinians, Falwell successfully delivered a hundred thousand emails to the White House saying that ‘nothing will bring the wrath of the American people down on a government quicker than abandoning Israel.’ Suddenly Bush’s criticism of Israeli violence fell silent” (pp. 233-234).

He adds that Kay Arthur “likewise saw political support for Israel as a critical aspect of Christian faithfulness. But she went further. Any peacemaking with Palestinians, in her view, was a sin” (p. 234).

Burge employs Christendom’s favorite scapegoats – dispensationalism and premillennialism – to explain evangelicalism’s blind and unbalanced support for Israel. He presents a confused and old form of dispensationalism in an apparent attempt to absolve the rest of the church for being exclusively on the side of the Israelis. Dispensationalism’s firm commitment to an earthly future for ethnic Israel has tragically (to Burge) led evangelicalism down the wrong path. He does not elaborate, however, how it came to be that all other theologies remained silent while dispensationalism led the sheep astray.

Once again, however, Burge puts his finger on a critical and revealing issue that evangelicals need to consider. He ties the Israeli government with what he describes as “Christian Zionism.”

According to Colin Chapman, author of Whose Promised Land? (Baker, 2002),

“Christian Zionism is characterized by four basic assumptions:

1. “The Jews have divine right to the land because of God’s promise to Abraham;
2. “the return of the Jews to the land is the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies;
3. “The creation of the state of Israel will lead to the conversion of the Jews and ultimately to the second coming of Christ; and
4. Christians should not only support the idea of a Jewish state, but support what it stands for and defend it against attack.”

Burge is particularly disturbed by the self-proclaimed International Christian Embassy [ICE] in Jerusalem, calling them a vital link in the chain between Christian Zionism and the Israeli government. This so-called Christian Embassy, Burge complains, seems to have no intent to present the gospel to the Israelis.

In all its dealings with the Jews, Burge says, “in the midst of all these efforts, no interest is apparent in carrying on a ministry to Judaism like Paul’s – a ministry that proclaims Jesus as Messiah. In fact, the embassy intentionally avoids any discussion of this ‘divisive subject’ . . . Perhaps the most disconcerting thing about the embassy is its overt antagonism toward the Palestinian people. Its leaders readily deny the validity of Palestinian Christianity and compare the spirit of the Arab resistance movement with the ‘spirit found in the Holocaust’”(p. 244).

In short, Burge says, there is no interest on the “embassy’s” part in either evangelizing the Jews or edifying the Palestinians.

Despite the presence of such organizations as the ICE, Burge does see rays of hope: Stanley Ellisen, author of Who Owns the Land? The Arab-Israeli Conflict, believes that “Israel should be treated like any other secular state in the world, giving it both security considerations and expecting from it appropriate human rights” (p. 247).

Ellison’s point is one of the more reasonable and significant statements in the book. It is this position that evangelicals need to adopt, i.e., to treat the nation of Israel will all the respect and rights due any legitimate people, but with no special privileges or favors. Israel, as a past and present ally of the United States, should be given the same status and support – but also evaluated as carefully – as England, Canada, or Australia.

Other sources of evangelical hope found by Burge include World Vision International, which provides assistance for both Palestinian and Israeli human rights organizations, and Christianity Today, which has sought to be an equal-opportunity critic of nations or groups that routinely violate human rights.

He also includes a strong statement from evangelical scholar John Stott. In an interview with The Link, a quarterly journal of the Americans for Middle East Understanding, Stott says, “After considerable study, I have concluded that Zionism and especially Christian Zionism are Biblically untenable” (p. 255, emphasis mine).

Burge adds, “I am now persuaded that the church cannot be entangled in a political agenda in the Middle East that destroys people and pursues injustice . . . The Palestinian is my neighbor. Many Palestinians are my Christian brothers and sisters . . . Evangelicals who stand opposed to the secular nationalism of Israel are not discriminating against Jews as a people. On the contrary, evangelical circles are expressing dissatisfaction with the behavior of a nation that ought to know better – a nation whose possession of the Scriptures ought to give it more light” (p. 258, emphasis his).

He continues:

“From the very beginning, Israel’s founders recognized three dreams, three visions, that the state wanted to embrace: Israel was to be (1) a democracy; (2) a Jewish state; (3) and the owner of the historic land of Israel, from the Mediterranean to the Jordan River.

“David Ben-Gurion understood this vision, and he remarked that it would be impossible to hold all three of these at any one time. If Israel is to be a Jewish democracy, it could not have all the land. If Israel was to be a democracy and hold all the land with its Arab residents, it could not be exclusively Jewish. And if Israel wanted all the land and also be Jewish, then it could not be a democracy . . .

“The third option is for Israel to let go of much occupied land in the West Bank and remain a smaller Jewish state in which democracy is enjoyed by all its citizenry. This path opens the way for genuine Palestinian nationhood” (p. 265).

In closing, Burge offers his outline for creating a foundation for peace (pp. 267-268):

1. Palestinians will respect Israel’s need for security within their boundaries.
2. Israelis will attend to the needs of Palestinians who have lost their homes and villages.
3. Refugees will be allowed to return to their homes and be compensated for their losses; the sin of Ahab will stop.
4. Both sides will end human rights abuses.
5. The unlawful acquisition of land will end.
6. Jerusalem will be a multicultural city, shared by Jews, Muslims, and Christians.

As stated at the onset of this review, The New Testament and The Land

Burge begins his examination of the New Testament’s teaching concerning the land promised to Israel by quoting a Palestinian minister, whose position is representative of many Christians in a variety of theological traditions.

“The church . . . has inherited the promises of Israel. The church is actually the new Israel. What Abraham was promised, Christians now possess because they are Abraham’s true spiritual children just as the New Testament teaches” (p. 67) – Father George Makhlouf, St. George’s Greek Orthodox Church in Ramallah.

Those of you who participate in the “Americanism and Its Enemies” forum at Evangelical Outpost may remember that the Puritans made similar statements as they prepared to come to the New World. Most Christian traditions do not maintain a clear distinction between ethnic Israel and the church, with the result that many of the promises made in the Old Testament are claimed by the New Testament church. In order to do that, some theologians find it necessary to “spiritualize” or allegorize passages and promises. This is apparently Burge’s solution, as well.

Arguing from the silence of the New Testament regarding the land, he first seeks to demonstrate that Jesus was not interested in a physical kingdom, Jerusalem, or the temple. To some extent, he is correct: Jesus’ kingdom was to be markedly different than that for which the Jews yearned. Even after the Resurrection, his disciples questions centered on if Jesus was going to restore the physical kingdom at this time.

An explanation of the nature and timing of the kingdom is beyond the scope of this discussion. Suffice it to point out at this juncture, however, that Christ’s reply was not that there would never be such a kingdom because the church would fulfill the promises, but only that it was none of the disciples business when God was going to act.

Burge then moves on to spiritualize the meaning of the land itself. “Jesus himself becomes the locus of holy space. The aim of the old covenant was the land of promise; now the aim is Jesus Christ, who walked in the land” (p. 175, emphasis his). Space, the author is saying, has been redefined: it is no longer physical but holy, spiritual space. It no longer exists on earth but in the heavenlies, in the Body and Person of Jesus Christ.

Once again, Burge is partially right. The emphasis at this time is on the spiritual kingdom of God (that is, the rule of God in and through those who have believed in Jesus as the Messiah) and only secondarily on material things. But the church is an intercalation, not a replacement: the clock has stopped for Israel and the land promises made to Abraham, not to start again until an unknown time in the future.

“To sum up, we observe a cycle of responses to the question of land: (1) land is rejected as the aim of faith; (2) land is spiritualized as meaning something else; (3) the promise is historicized in Jesus, a man who lives in the land; (4) the promised is sacramentalized – that is, as a sacrament bears testimony to things beyond what we see and touch (without denying these properties), so too Jesus’ ‘landness’ (his physicality) is a reality, but believers are urged to push further, to find the ‘living water’ and ‘bread of life’ that he offers” (p. 177).

This is a remarkable reading and understanding of the New Testament, made all the more amazing by what follows: an argument in Israel’s defense based on Paul’s teaching in Rom 9-11.

“Finally, Paul retains a special place for unbelieving Israel even though they are ‘broken off’ from God’s people. During the present time, Israel has become ‘hardened’ (11.25), but in the future, after the Gentiles have been ‘grafted in,’ all Israel will be saved once more (11.26-27). Paul thus anticipates a future redemption in the plan of God that will include the Jewish people who originally rejected Christ. Israel might be reattached in the present era, but this can happen only through belief in Jesus (11.23). For the most part, Paul’s hope for Israel is future, at the end of time.” (p. 187).

How this is to be reconciled with his earlier arguments that Israel has lost the land, Burge does not say. Also left unexplained is whether or not, according to Rom 9-11, the Abrahamic and Palestinian Covenants are to be physically fulfilled by Israel in an earthy kingdom. One would assume that Burge’s answer would be that the church is the recipient of those promises. What that leaves redeemed Israel is hard to fathom.

As Burge has argued previously, the land is shadow and heaven is substance. The church – which I would argue is not the New Israel – has no claim to the physical land nor does Israel have a biblical mandate while they continue in unbelief. In the future, ethnic Israel will again have claim to the land, but only when it has believed in Jesus as the Messiah.

Burge’s most powerful arguments concern the neglect and abandonment of the Palestinian church by American evangelicals: he is correct. For unknown reasons, evangelicals have denied either the existence or the sincerity of believers in Jesus Christ who are also Palestinian.

Like the Native Americans in America’s own history, Palestinian Christians have by and large been an ignored and invisible people. They have suffered for their faith and for their ethnicity. Their claim, mention in Part 1 of this review, is that they share with the 1st century church the dubious distinction of being persecuted by a Jewish majority. It is difficult to argue with that claim.

The numbers provided by Burge are staggering. Along with other Palestinians, these fellow believers in Jesus Christ have suffered being beaten, tortured, and murdered; the illegal seizure of land and property; deportation; interment in inhumane refugee camps for decades, and the countless indignities of being viewed and treated as subhuman by the Israeli government.

Burge, on one of his many visits to Israel/Palestine, tells the following conversation he had with a young Palestinian believer.

“’How can America, your America, that believes in freedom, support Israel when it acts like this?’ Such questions are frequent in the Middle East and easy to explain to Palestinians: The United States isn’t a perfect country. We make mistakes even among our allies. Then came the bombshell: ‘But why do American Christians support the Israelis as well? Why don’t they help us? Why not even us, the Palestinian Christians?’” (p. 259, emphasis his).

There is no acceptable answer.

What, then, are the Palestinian Christians’ concerns? Burge identifies the primary ones (pp. 196-203):

A plea for visibility and fellowship. “Palestinian Christians want us to embrace them as equals and invite them into fellowship. They want their Christian life to be acknowledged and respected, but they are not waiting for our acknowledgment to in some way make their faith authentic.”
A cry for justice. “Palestinian Christians are looking to us for support. They claim that they are reliving for the first time in history the conditions of the first-century church, in which a Christian minority is suffering under the rule of a Jewish majority . . . If one Bible passage has become pivotal to the Palestinian Christians experience, it is the story of Ahab and the vineyard of Naboth from 1 Kings 21.”
A historic claim to residence. Rev. Riah Abu El-Assal, an Anglican bishop, “feels that American Christians are often given the following scenario, which is one of the great myths of the Middle East: The Jews owned the land throughout the Old Testament era, were exiled by the Romans in 70 c.e., and in their absence, Arabs moved into the region sometime in the seventh century under the inspiration of Muhammad. Now the Arab interlude is over. The Jews have come home – and therefore the Arab residents with no historic tenure cannot make historic claims to land and residence.”
El-Assal goes on to make two points about the historic relationship between Arabs and Jews. “First, ‘Arab’ is a racial designation of people throughout the Middle East. And Arab ‘Jews’ were commonplace in antiquity. The people were racially Arab and yet embraced Judaism . . . When Israel was exiled in 70 c.e., Jews fled to these Arab Jewish communities in Arabia, Iraq, Egypt, and the Persian Gulf. . . .” His second point is that “Arab Jews were among those converted to Christ in the earliest church. Acts 2.11 specifically includes Arabs as among those converted on Pentecost.”

(Burge argues, “If land promises come to Judaism by virtue of tenure in the land and biblical promise, Arabs who embraced Judaism gain these promises as well, and their faith in Jesus does not invalidate their claims to Jewish ancestry. If we ask, Where did the Arab Christians come from? the answer clearly begins with the Day of Pentecost.”)

A disappearing church. The Palestinians, due to the conditions in the land, are leaving in droves. 200 – “So many Palestinian Christian have left that towns in which Christians were once as many as 75 percent of the population now have Christian populations of 30 percent or less.”
Messianic Judaism. “In the last ten years, Palestinian Christian leaders (particularly Protestants) have explored new supportive relations with another group of Christians in the country, the Messianic Jews. These people are believers in Jesus – Christians – who live in Israel and preserve in their worship those Jewish cultural features common among Israelis.”

The attention given by American evangelicals to Messianic Jews is astonishing given the numbers and theology of the group. According to a 1999 study, “about six thousand believers worship in eighty-one messianic congregations in Israel . . . Because it frames its theology with reference to its Jewish context, this [messianic] movement will embrace positions that might seem surprising – and which present a hurdle to Arab Christians who have embraced the historic creeds of the church. For example, the divinity of Jesus (which leads to belief in the Trinity) is an open question for some” (emphasis mine).

Burge next turns his attention to the current evangelical attitudes toward the Middle East and, indirectly, Palestinian Christians. He quotes two visible and vocal examples: Jerry Falwell and Kay Arthur.

“Claiming to speak for 70 million American evangelicals, Falwell urged that ‘the Bible belt in America was Israel’s only safety belt today.’ When President George W. Bush called for Israeli restraint against the Palestinians, Falwell successfully delivered a hundred thousand emails to the White House saying that ‘nothing will bring the wrath of the American people down on a government quicker than abandoning Israel.’ Suddenly Bush’s criticism of Israeli violence fell silent” (pp. 233-234).

He adds that Kay Arthur “likewise saw political support for Israel as a critical aspect of Christian faithfulness. But she went further. Any peacemaking with Palestinians, in her view, was a sin” (p. 234).

Burge employs Christendom’s favorite scapegoats – dispensationalism and premillennialism – to explain evangelicalisms blind and unbalanced support for Israel. He presents a confused and old form of dispensationalism in an apparent attempt to absolve the rest of the church for being exclusively on the side of the Israelis. Dispensationalism firm commitment to an earthly future for ethnic Israel has tragically (to Burge) led evangelicalism down the wrong path. He does not elaborate, however, how it came to be that all other theologies remained silent while dispensationalism led the sheep astray.

Once again, however, Burge puts his finger on a critical and revealing issue that evangelicals need to consider. He ties the Israeli government with what he describes as “Christian Zionism.”
According to Colin Chapman, author of Whose Promised Land? (Baker, 2002),

“Christian Zionism is characterized by four basic assumptions:

The Jews have divine right to the land because of God’s promise to Abraham;
the return of the Jews to the land is the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies;
The creation of the state of Israel will lead to the conversion of the Jews and ultimately to the second coming of Christ; and
Christians should not only support the idea of a Jewish state, but support what it stands for and defend it against attack.”

Burge is particularly disturbed by the self-proclaimed International Christian Embassy [ICE], calling them a vital link in the chain between Christian Zionism and the Israeli government. This so-called Christian Embassy, Burge complains, seems to have no intent to present the gospel to the Israelis.

In all its dealings with the Jews, Burge says, “in the midst of all these efforts, no interest is apparent in carrying on a ministry to Judaism like Paul’s – a ministry that proclaims Jesus as Messiah. In fact, the embassy intentionally avoids any discussion of this ‘divisive subject’ . . . Perhaps the most disconcerting thing about the embassy is its overt antagonism toward the Palestinian people. Its leads readily deny the validity of Palestinian Christianity and compare the spirit of the Arab resistance movement with the ‘spirit found in the Holocaust’”(p. 244).

In short, he says, there is no interest in either evangelizing the Jews or edifying the Palestinians.

Despite the presence of such organizations as the ICE, Burge sees rays of hope: Stanley Ellisen, author of Who Owns the Land? The Arab-Israeli Conflict, “concludes that Israel should be treated like any other secular state in the world, giving it both security considerations and expecting from it appropriate human rights” (p. 247).

Ellison’s point is one of the more reasonable and significant statements in the book. It is this position that evangelicals need to adopt: to treat the nation of Israel will all the respect and rights due any legitimate people, but with no special privileges or favors. Israel, as a past and present ally of the United States, should be given the same status and support as England, Canada, or Australia.

Other sources of evangelical hope found by Burge include World Vision International, which provides assistance for both Palestinian and Israeli human rights organizations, and Christianity Today, which has sought to be an equal-opportunity critic of nations or groups that routinely violate human rights.

He also includes a strong statement from evangelical scholar John Stott. In an interview with The Link, a quarterly journal of the Americans for Middle East Understand, Stott says, “After considerable study, I have concluded that Zionism and especially Christian Zionism are Biblically untenable” (p. 255).

Burge adds, “I am now persuaded that the church cannot be entangled in a political agenda in the Middle East that destroys people and pursues injustice . . . The Palestinian is my neighbor. Many Palestinians are my Christian brothers and sisters . . . Evangelicals who stand opposed to the secular nationalism of Israel are not discriminating against Jews as a people. On the contrary, evangelical circles are expressing dissatisfaction with the behavior of a nation that ought to know better – a nation whose possession of the Scriptures ought to give it more light” (p. 258, emphasis his).

He continues:

“From the very beginning, Israel’s founders recognized three dreams, three visions, that the state wanted to embrace: Israel was to be (1) a democracy; (2) a Jewish state; (3) and the owner of the historic land of Israel, from the Mediterranean to the Jordan River.

“David Ben-Gurion understood this vision, and he remarked that it would be impossible to hold all three of these at any one time. If Israel is to be a Jewish democracy, it could not have all the land. If Israel was to be a democracy and hold all the land with its Arab residents, it could not be exclusively Jewish. And if Israel wanted all the land also be Jewish, then it could not be a democracy . . .

“The third option is for Israel to let go of much occupied land in the West Bank and remain a smaller Jewish state in which democracy is enjoyed by all its citizenry. This path opens the way for genuine Palestinian nationhood” (p. 265).

In closing, Burge offers his outline for creating a foundation for peace (pp. 267-268):

Palestinians will respect Israel’s need for security within their boundaries.
Israelis will attend to the needs of Palestinians who have lost their homes and villages.
Refugees will be allowed to return to their homes and compensated for their losses; the sin of Ahab will stop.
Both sides will end human rights abuses.
The unlawful acquisition of land will end.
Jerusalem will be a multicultural city, shared by Jews, Muslims, and Christians.

As stated at the onset of this review, Whose Land? Whose Promise? is almost a great book. Its lack of balance, however, reduces it to a polemic at times. Had a chapter been included that reported the violence and abuses of the Palestinians in the land, the author’s comments would have been more palatable and credible. Burge preaches to Jerusalem – in the spirit of Isaiah and Jeremiah – but also needs to preach to Nineveh in the spirit of Jonah and Nahum.

The path that leads to blind compassion of the Palestinians is as misguided as the path that follows blind support of a nation, be it Israel or any other. Wisdom finds a middle way. Nevertheless, Whose Land? Whose Promise?, with its flaws and shortcomings, remains an important book and must reading for evangelicals of all theological traditions.

Wolves have always held a special fascination for me, for reasons I only partially understand. Misunderstood and much-maligned, they are remarkable creations of God. Oddly, I find spiritual resolve and motivation in them.

Shortly after becoming a Christian, I read an article in Harper’s Magazine (1976) entitled “Wolf Kill” by Barry Lopez. His story is a journal of his experience trying to understand the hunting habits of wolves in Canada and Alaska.

In “Wolf Kill,” Lopez describes something he observed among wolves and their prey that he called “the conversation of death.” A wolf stalking a bull moose, for example, would silently approach the bull until it got within striking range and was able to make eye contact with the moose. What happened next is “the conversation of death.”

The wolf would continue to stare at the bull until the latter noticed him. Then, for the next sixty seconds or so, the bull moose and the wolf would hold one another with their eyes. It was during this gaze, Lopez argued, that the decision was made by the wolf (and bull) to attack and kill, to turn away, or to attack but not kill – to engage one another as “sparring partners,” honing their skills without drawing blood or cracking ribs. This happened so repeatedly that Lopez was certain it was a meaningful dialogue.

What was also intriguing, he noted, was what would happen when the wolf came across a domestic animal such as a cow. The wolf would stalk and stare, but the cow – upon seeing the wolf – would immediately break eye contact and panic. The wolf would immediately attack and kill, Lopez said, but would not eat. He killed as though enraged and as if he did not consider the kill worthy of consumption.

I seek these kinds of conversations in my relationships with other Christians. (At the risk of being Pollyannaistic, let’s call them “conversations of life.”) I find other believers that have viable-but-different theologies and engage them in questions and debate. We do not seek to destroy one another — we do not attack and kill – and we do not turn away. We engage, crossing swords in vigorous but respectful conflict, iron sharpening iron as we do so. We are strengthened as a result, but also emerge more understanding of the other’s position and, usually, more appreciative and respectful of them.

(It is tempting to say, in these contests, that I am full of the spirit of the wolf and my opponents are full of bull. But I will resist.)

Most recently, I have had these conversations of life with David at Jollyblogger, Tim at Challies, and Brad at 21st Century Reformation. Regardless of your theology, you should read these blogs regularly: these are committed, passionate, and thought-provoking Christians. We are still testing one another’s mettle at this point, but it is thoroughly edifying.

On occasion, I come across a domesticated soul. Those who panic and run are usually trolls, seeking the uninformed or younger believers in Christ to frustrate or confuse. Sometimes I encounter believers that may be domesticated, but are hungry to learn and to grow. There is always time for people like this, and the sword is put away for later. Feed the hungry before playing with the strong.

Such passionate interaction as I have found is a good thing, I think, and something that needs to happen more often than it does. Sadly, such interactions sometimes deteriorate into fruitless and futile arguments full of heat but very little light. Not too glorifying to Christ, I’m afraid. But when it works, it is invigorating and humbling at the same time.

It is the Body of Christ building up, broadening, and balancing itself. It is a privilege and thrilling to be a part of it.

“Puritanism had two main elements: the Calvinist belief in predestination with associated religious doctrines, and what we might call a ‘political’ doctrine. The ‘political’ goal of Puritanism was to reach back to the pure Christianity of the New Testament – and then even farther back. Puritans spoke of themselves as God’s new chosen people, living in God’s new promised land – in short, as God’s new Israel.

“I believe that Puritanism did not drop out of history. It transformed itself into Americanism. This new religion was the end-stage of Puritanism: Puritansim realized among God’s self-proclaimed ‘new’ chosen people . . .

“[M]y thesis is that Puritanism did not merely inspire or influence Americanism; it turned into Americanism. Puritanism and Americanism are not just parallel or related developments; they are two stages of a single phenomenon.”

Gelernter examines the “American creed” that at once describes and supports Americanism. It is not principally “liberty, equality, democracy, individualism, human rights, the rule of law, and private property,” as is argued by some. Instead, he says, it is something else:

“I prefer a different formulation: a conceptual triangle in which one fundamental fact creates two premises that create three conclusions.

“The fundamental fact: the Bible is God’s word. Two premises: first, every member of the American community has his own individual dignity, insofar as he deals individually with God; second, the community has a divine mission to all mankind. Three conclusions: every human being everywhere is entitled to freedom, equality, and democracy.”

Gelernter, drawing from the teachings of the Puritans, anchors the two premises and three conclusion in the Bible. If you have even a passing interest in the history of the country and how it became what it is, then you must read the article. He effectively demonstrates and explains the thinking of the Puritans and those who came later that supports Americanism.

American Zionism

There is more – much more – to Americanism than what Gelernter has presented thusfar. Americanism is not just a philosophy or premise: Americanism is a where, a who, and a why:

“To sum up Americanism’s creed as freedom, equality, and democracy for all is to state only half the case. The other half deals with a promised land, a chosen people, and a universal, divinely ordained mission. This part of Americanism is the American version of biblical Zionism: in short, American Zionism.”

Four critical points in American history – “turning points” – illustrate the presence and practice of Americanism during the past 200+ years. The first was at the birth of the United States when the colonies proclaimed their independence from the United Kingdom. The second was the Civil War, the third World War I, and the fourth the cold war which followed World War II.

Gelernter provides numerous examples from history to support his argument. He cites speeches and comments from revolutionary figures, Woodrow Wilson, Harry Truman, and Ronald Reagan to illustrate his points. Most persuasive of all, perhaps, is his depiction of Abraham Lincoln as one who understood and subscribed to Americanism.

“Lincoln’s understanding of [the Civil War], writes Edmund Wilson, ‘grew out of the religious tradition of the New England theology of Puritanism.’ In 1862, Lincoln made ‘a solemn vow before God’ to free the South’s slaves. William Wolf notes that this vow was ‘more in conformance with Old Testament than with New Testament religion,’ was ‘imbedded in Lincoln’s biblical piety,’ and ‘came to him as part of the religious heritage of the nation.’ The ‘climactic expression of his biblical faith, according to Wolf, was the Second Inaugural address, [which] ‘reads like a supplement to the Bible. In it there are fourteen references to God, four direct quotations from Genesis, Psalms, and Matthew, and other allusions to scriptural teaching’ . . . If Americanism is a religion, this is its holiest document after the Bible and the Declaration; and Lincoln is its greatest prophet.”

Anti-Americanism

Having explained what Americanism is, Gelernter then turns his attention to the seemingly ubiquitous hatred of Americanism in general and George W. Bush in particular. It is the perceived sense of mission, moral superiority, and arrogance that foments so much resentment in other parts of the world. He says,

“That Americanism is the successor of Puritanism is crucial to anti-Americanism . . . In the 19th century, European elites became increasing hostile to Christianity – which inevitably entailed hostility to America. In modern times, anti-Americanism is closely associated with anti-Christianism and anti-Semitism.

“Anti-Americans are still fascinated and enraged by Americans’ bizarre tendency to believe in God . . . Londoners [comment] that ‘the United States is one giant fundamentalist Christian nation peopled by raging Bible-thumpers on every street’; that America is ‘running wild with religious extremism that threatens the world far more than bin Laden.’

“And we needn’t go to . . . Britain to find angry denunciations of President Bush and the Americans who support him in religion-mocking terms. The President’s faith, said one prominent American politician in September 2004, is ‘the American version of the same fundamentalist impulse that we see in Saudi Arabia, in Kashmir, and in many religions around the world.’

“The speaker was former Vice President Al Gore.”

At the close of his remarkable essay, Gelernter’s support and defense of Americanism becomes clear. He rebukes Gore before concluding his article:

His comments were offensive and false. Today’s radical Islam is a religion of death, a religion that rejoices in slaughter. The radical Christianity known as Puritanism insisted on choosing life. Americanism does, too.

Puritans took to heart these famous words from the Hebrew Bible: “I have set before you this day life and death, blessing and curse: therefore choose life and live, you and your children” (Deuteronomy 30:19).

It is to Puritanism, Gelernter concludes, that America and Americanism owes their existence: “we are [its] heirs; and we ought to thank God that we have inherited [its] humanitarian decency along with [its] radical, God-fearing Americanism.”

A Christian Response and Corrective

Gelernter is a compelling and forceful writer, but also compassionate and empathetic. His points on America’s indebtedness are well-taken, and he calls us back to what has made and kept the country great for more than two centuries. His is a voice to which we should listen carefully and thoughtfully.

Interestingly, many of his arguments and observations were foreshadowed by Bruce Shelley, Senior Professor of Church History and Historical Theology at Denver Theological Seminary, in his 1982 book, Church History in Plain Language. Shelley adds breadth, depth, and a more biblical perspective to Gelernter’s article. He opens his chapter on Puritanism, The Rule of the Saints, with an analysis of Puritan pastor John Cotton’s farewell sermon to emigrants embarking to the New World:

“Cotton declared that like the ancient Israelites these immigrants [sic.] were God’s chosen people, headed for the land he had promised and prepared. In this new land they would be able to labor undisturbed for the glory of God.

“There you have a snapshot of Puritanism: the Bible, the covenanted people of God, and their divine mission in the world . . . Puritanism provided for Christians of every generation a model of the Christian life as a decisive commitment to Jesus Christ and how that life of the soul expresses itself in the public arena, in a nation governed by the truths of the Bible.”

Although Puritanism thrived primarily in (ironically) Massachusetts, where the colony’s unique charter did not require legal tolerance of other faiths, the Puritan mindset – Americanism, to use Gelernter’s term – was to be found throughout the colonies. Shelley continues,

“Puritanism . . . began with an individual’s experience of the redeeming grace of God but moved on to stress the elect’s mission in the world, the shaping of society according to biblical principles. In its emphasis upon the interior life of the saint, Puritanism was a taproot of later evangelical Christianity with its born again message. In its stress upon a disciplined ‘nation under God’ and his laws, it contributed significantly to the national character of the American people.”

Martyrs and Hermeneutics

Early in his discussion, however, Shelley makes a very important observation that provides insight into when and how Puritanism in New England may have strayed from its biblical roots. It is an important corrective of Gelernter’s otherwise outstanding discussion. Shelley notes,

“The Puritans, however had more than their Geneva Bibles. They had a sense of destiny, a vision of God’s purpose among men and nations. The idea that the Almighty moves in the affairs of men is traceable, to be sure, to the Bible. But the concept that the pilgrimage of God’s people spanned the centuries and led at last to England was from another book. John Foxe, in his highly popular Book of Martyrs, planted this idea in the minds of Englishmen.

“Like the Geneva Bible, The Book of Martyrs was a product of the English exile during the reign of Bloody Mary. Foxe marshalled account after account of the suffering of faithful Protestants who dared to die – if need be – for the triumph of God’s kingdom. According to Foxe, this trail of martyrs led to the shores of England and to the reign of Mary. The conclusion seemed clear: God had a special place for the English people in his worldwide plan of redemption.

“The influence of The Book of Martyrs proved enormous. Generation after generation of Englishmen saw history, and read their Bibles, through Foxe’s eyes. Aside from the Bible, his book probably did more to shape the mind of Englishmen than any other single volume. Less than half a century after Foxe’s death, Puritans carried his work and his philosophy of history – along with their English Bibles – across the Atlantic, into the American wilderness . . .

“Most of the basic beliefs of the evangelicals could be found in Puritanism: the sinfulness of man, the atoning death of Christ, the unmerited grace of God, the salvation of the true believer. But Puritanism was more concerned with politics. It tried to create the holy commonwealth, the true Bible society, in England and America.

“The evangelicals were not detached from politics, as the Pietists were, but there controlling passion was the conversion of the lost. They were less concerned about the reform of churches and more intent upon the preaching of the gospel to all . . . “

The basis for Americanism is not, as Gelernter asserts, to be found in the Bible but rather in Foxe’s influential The Book of Martyrs. It is by reading the Bible, as Shelley notes, through Foxe’s eyes that Americanism is seen and promoted. Americanism is not automatically wrong because it is not directly derived from the Bible, but it is misleading to suggest that its origins lie in Scripture.

In addition to the influence from Foxe, the hermeneutic employed by the Puritans leaves much to be desired. Hermeneutics is the science of translating and understanding the message of the Bible and, although there are various schools of thought ranging from liberally allegorical to wildly literal, great care must be taken to keep from reading one’s own doctrines, desires, or delusions into the text. Exegesis is drawing mean from the text and is a good thing; eisogesis is reading into the text what is not there and is a bad thing.

The Puritans saw themselves as the new Israel, supplanting God’s chosen people of the Old Testament and stealing His promises to them. Israel’s destiny became the Puritan’s destiny. But this is not at all what the Bible teaches. While a development of this exegetical and theological issue is beyond the scope of this post, suffice it to say, along with Paul, that “God has not rejected His people whom He foreknew . . . a partial hardening has happened to Israel until the fullness of the Gentiles has come in; and so all Israel will be saved” (Rom 11.2, 25-26).

This may appear to be “proof-texting” on my part, but it is clear that God is not through with Israel. They have been His chosen people in the past, remain potentially chosen today, and will most definitely be chosen by Him in the future.

But God’s chosen – that is, elect – people today are not Americans or Englishmen or any other nation or ethnic group. God’s chosen people today are those believers in Jesus Christ wherever they may be found, whether in America, Iran, Iraq – even France. It is the Church – composed of actual believers, not merely attenders – and not America that is God’s elect at this time.

Pre-, A-, or Post-Millenial?

Almost in passing, Gelernter says that Americanism is “a millenarian religion.” Millenialism is the belief that Jesus Christ will rule on the earth. Premillenialist maintain that He will do this physically on the earth for 1,000 years as recorded in Rev 20.6 and other passages. Postmillenialist believe that the church will usher in the millenium through her efforts and then Christ will return at the end of the 1,000 years – which are usually viewed as symbolic and not literal years. Amillenialist do not believe in an earthly reign of Christ but that He rules spiritually in the hearts of His people; similar to the Postmillenialist, they also understand the 1,000 years as figurative and not literal language.

The pressing question that Gelernter does not answer or address, however, is what variation of millenialism is it? It is highly unlikely that it would be Premillenial, since most adherents of that position recognize that the church will never succeed in bringing the kingdom to a material fruition. The church will fail in her responsibilities even as Israel failed in her own.

Biblical Priorities

As noted at the beginning of this post, Americanism can be a good thing if kept within certain parameters. The question is, what are those parameters? Certainly Christians have a duty and responsibility to the society and culture in which they live, but where does one draw the line? A few suggestions and recommendations will bring this post to a close.

First, we must keep in mind that our lives on earth exist in a tension. Paul tells us submit to civil authorities (Rom 13.1-2) and to pray for our governmental leaders as well as our spiritual leaders (1 Tim 2.1-2), but he also reminds us not to be like those “who set their minds on earthly things. For our citizenship is in heaven, from which also we eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Php 3.19-20). When Pilate asked Jesus if He was truly a king, the Lord replied, “”My kingdom is not of this world” (Jn 18.36).

This world is important, to be sure, and the nation in which we live is a good one and one for which we ought to thank God and pray. But it is perilous for us to place our hopes and trust in this country or any other. We are to store up treasures in heaven and use our time and other resources to make an impact that will last for eternity and serve – not this nation but – the Kingdom of God.

To the extent that the purposes of this country coincide with the purposes of God, we must support the United States; when this country or any other goes beyond or against His purposes, we should not and cannot give ourselves to that mission. The Puritans, following the Bible, were correct in emphasizing personal faith in God; following Foxe, however, they were wrong when they claimed for themselves the promises that belonged to Israel and sought to establish a physical kingdom of God on earth.

As the great theologian “Dirty Harry” said, “A man’s got to know his limitations.” Perhaps, as Christians living in America, we have sought to “be all that we can be” instead of ordering our lives differently so that we might “become all that God means for us to be.”