Hey Jude, don't make it bad

For an upcoming sermon, I am preaching out of the books of 2 John, 3 John, and Jude.  That sounds like a lot, but all three of those books put together are only 52 verses.  I am preaching about the truth of the Christian faith, or as Jude calls it, "the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints" (Jude 3).  I didn't realize how troubling of a book Jude is.  Most of the book describes the attributes and demise of false teachers who had slipped in among the Christians to whom Jude is writing.  These "godless men" were changing "the grace of our God into a license for immorality and deny Jesus Christ our only Sovereign and Lord" (v. 4).  They pollute their own bodies, reject authority, slander celestial beings, speak abusively about that which they don't understand, have no qualms about eating with other believers (in the "love feast," an early Christian practice), grumble and find fault, follow their own evil desires, and speak about themselves and others only in such a way as to advance themselves (see v. 8-16).  Bad guys, for sure.  It should be easy to spot them, right?

Not so fast.  Look around, closely, at any church, and you will find these types of sin still happening.  People twist Scripture all the time to justify their immorality (the word in Jude 4 for "immorality" usually refers to some kind of sexual sins or immoral sensuality).  People pollute their own bodies, and we Americans are experts at it, as we are at rejecting authority and promoting self at the expense of others.  Who doesn't occasionally grumble and find fault ('cause "it's not my fault").  So, are we the bad guys, too? Is our condemnation also written about long ago (v. 4)?

A few brief facts will help.  First, the verbs used to describe these people are overwhelmingly present tense verbs, denoting an ongoing, continuous action.  To twist Scripture once is bad, but to make a habit of it is worse.  Second, while these men are "godless" (asebeis in Greek), "at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly" (asebon, a different form of asebeis; see Romans 5:6).  No one is outside the reach of Christ's love and offer of salvation.  Third, we can have assurance of our salvation because "there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Romans 8:1).  Many, many times in the NT letters, the writers tell Christians to stop doing sinful things.  They don't condemn them to hell for sinning; they primarily rebuke sinful behavior because it hurts one's relationship with the body of Christ and because it hurts our relationship with God.

That said, I can't ignore the kind of people Jude (and 2 Peter 2, for that matter, which sounds a lot like Jude 5-16) writes about.  The examples he gives in v. 5-7 are examples of willful apostasy, people who knew the truth but abandoned it anyway.  Verse 5 refers to the ten spies who gave a pessimistic report about the promised land, convinced others to join in their fear and lack of faith, and ultimately were killed (see Numbers 13:1-14:38).  Verse 6 refers to angels who rebelled against God and now are doomed to destruction.  These are beings who were sinless and in the very presence of God, about as safe as you can be, one would think.  Yet, somehow, they rebelled ("abandoned their own home").  Verse 7 is about the people of Sodom and Gomorrah, who "gave themselves up" to sexual immorality and perversion, another way of saying that they knew the truth but kept on refusing to obey.  In at least two out of the three examples (spies and angels), they were saved and then fell away and were destroyed.  Verse 13 says these Scripture-twisting, egocentric Christians are "wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever."

The promise of no condemnation in Romans 8:1 is for those "who do not live according to the sinful nature but according to the Spirit," because "if you live according to the sinful nature, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live, because those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God" (Rom. 8:4, 13-14).  We can't deny that there is a connection between obedience and final salvation, a difference between a faith that produces works and a faith that is dead (see James 2).  If there was absolutely no possibility of forfeiting one's salvation, then why would these (and many other) dire warnings be in Scripture?

So this is a tough sermon to write.  I can't resolve the tension in 30 minutes, as if the sermon were some sort of sitcom where everybody's relationships are restored and all problems solved by the end of the episode.  I don't know what I am going to say, how it will be received, or what results will come.  But I have to preach the Word as I understand it, unless and until someone more fully explains this.

Rob Bell, Emotion-Driven Theology, and Why It's Nothing New

If you're a Rob Bell fan (and frankly, what Christian aged 18-35 isn't?), then you are familiar with his Nooma videos and possibly some of his many can't-make-a-normal-looking-book books. You know that in the videos he teaches something using stories, walking down alleys, and a slightly trembling, urgent-sounding voice.

Here is the video and below it is the text of what he has to say after telling a story about a work of art which features Ghandi.

LOVE WINS. from Rob Bell on Vimeo.

Will only a few select people make it to heaven? And will billions and billions of people burn forever in hell? And if that’s the case, how do you become one of the few? Is it what you believe or what you say or what you do or who you know or something that happens in your heart? Or do you need to be initiated or take a class or converted or being born again? How does one become one of these few?

Then there is the question behind the questions. The real question [is], “What is God like?”, because millions and millions of people were taught that the primary message, the center of the gospel of Jesus, is that God is going to send you to hell unless you believe in Jesus. And so what gets subtly sort of caught and taught is that Jesus rescues you from God. But would kind of God is that, that we would need to be rescued from this God? How could that God ever be good? How could that God ever be trusted? And how could that ever be good news?

This is why lots of people want nothing to do with the Christian faith. They see it as an endless list of absurdities and inconsistencies and they say, why would I ever want to be a part of that? See what we believe about heaven and hell is incredibly important because it exposes what we believe about who God is and what God is like. What you discover in the Bible is so surprising, unexpected, beautiful, that whatever we have been told and been taught, the good news is actually better than that, better than we could ever imagine.

The good news is that love wins.

If you're a theology nerd, then you know that this has many Calvinists all huffy and lathered up, claiming that Bell is probably a universalist, and, therefore, unorthodox at best and heretical at worst. He could be an annihilationist, which still leaves an empty hell but upholds that some will eternally be separated from God. I don't think he's gonna be simply an soteriological optimist (a la Clark Pinnock and his A Wideness in God's Mercy, which teaches near universalism through the death of Christ). I think he will be a full-blown universalist, albeit a Christian one (all are saved through Christ) and not a normative religious pluralist (all are saved through their own religion, no matter how unbiblical it may be).

Either way, it's nothing new. Yes, that's right: in this instance, Rob Bell is not original. I'm sure he'll say things in the book that his fans will consider real zingers, and no doubt there will be an emotional appeal to his arguments. But the underlying arguments will not be original. Clark Pinnock argued for a generous, optimistic soteriology before Rob Bell was even born, and liberal theologians have been denying the reality of hell for over a century.

Additionally, though Bell and others who deny the orthodox, historical teaching on hell undoubtedly feel that their understanding is the true biblical one, the reality is that to arrive at such a conclusion requires some impressive hermeneutical sleight-of-hand (in the form of redefining the word for "eternity" and "eternal," reading annihilationism into the text, and using the varied biblical images for hell to conclude that they cannot all be true literally [fire and "blackest darkness" cannot both be literally true at the same time]) and an emphasis on emotional, philosophical questions (such as those Bell asks above) over a better question like, "what does the Bible actually teach on this subject?"

I may actually buy this book for its argumentative value. I know some friends of mine are going to wave this around triumphantly as they eulogize hell once and for all. But I say, not so fast and not so original.

What I'm Reading, Want to Read, Have Read

Usually, when I read a book, I end up reading several books together. Maybe I have trouble finishing what I start when it comes to books; maybe the book starts out boring and I don't want to have to endure it if I don't have to. Somehow, though, I still read a good deal, even after graduating from seminary, when many people would like to take a few years off from reading.

One book I'm reading is The Christian Atheist by Craig Groeschel. The subtitle reveals the gist of the book: Believing in God but Living as if He Doesn't Exist. It's not deep, but it hits right where many (most?) Christians are at.

One book I've barely started but am interested in digging through is the Calvinist classic The Reformed Doctrine of Predestination by Lorraine Boettner. This work is a classic presentation of Reformed theology (5-point Calvinism). Why am I, a non-Calvinist, reading it? A quote I heard long ago comes to mind: before you can say, "I disagree," you need to say, "I understand." There are some things about Reformed theology I don't understand.

I have recently read Glenn Sunshine's Why You Think the Way You Do: the Story of Western Worldviews from Rome to Home. I reviewed this book for the Stone-Campbell Journal, which will come out in the spring. Sunshine traces major ideas from the Roman Empire through modern times and how those ideas affect our ethics, actions, priorities, etc. In short I thought it was too big of a task for a popular-level book of less than 250 pages, and I would refer the reader to the works of Rodney Stark for better stuff in this area.

Then there are many books to which I turn when preparing for lessons, sermons, and answering general inquiries. These books are read a chapter here, a chapter there. Recent shelf pulls include The Kingdom of the Cults, The Quran, The Book of Mormon, The Faith Once for All, Heaven, What the Bible Teaches About Spiritual Warfare, Pagan Christianity?, The Apostolic Fathers, BAGD, NIDNTT, TDNT, NIDOTTE, A Reader's Greek New Testament.

Oh yeah, and The Bible. :)

Quote for Today

"Grace is not permission to sin without limits, but permission to pursue God without limits in spite of our sin."

This was a key statement in a sermon I preached last Sunday. The sermon was about Romans 1:16-17 and about how the good news about Jesus is the reason for, the motivation for, and the substance of our message to the world. I ended the sermon with a call for Christians to understand their identity in Christ: they are children of God, not employees of God. The difference is remarkable: people who think they have to be a perfect parent/spouse/friend/etc. in order for God to love them are thinking like employees. They think that performance earns God's love. But that thinking misunderstands grace. Grace has multiple sides to it: on the one hand, grace is God withholding from us what we deserve while giving us what we don't deserve, and on the other hand, grace is margin for error in our lives as Christians. God loves us not because we've earned it, not because we're perfect, but because we are his children.

Ain't That America

So I was in Target the other day, and I decided to look at their giant holiday candy section, newly set up for Easter, the second biggest candy holiday after Halloween. I saw this, and I wasn't sure what to think:





I'm probably being too uptight about this, but when I think about Easter as the crown jewel of God's work in Christ, I just wonder why, of all things to turn into chocolate and eat, the cross would be the first choice of religious confectioners and chocolate icon eaters. Does it not just seem a strange mix of the sublime (the cross) and the ridiculous (chocolate as a way to remember the cross)? Then again, it's no surprise that America would lead the way in candy-izing just about anything, including the ultimate symbol of shame, dread, torture, and pain: Roman crucifixion. One hundred years from now, will there be chocolate electric chairs or chocolate guillotines?

The cross is God's supreme act of love and wrath, where Jesus died for our sins in our place, receiving what we deserve so that he can give us what he alone deserves: a blameless standing before God. It's a message that doesn't make sense to some, and a message that some believe evangelical Christians emphasize too much (see, for example, Brian McLaren's A Generous Orthodoxy, 45-50, 64, 86). I would remind such brethren of Jesus' own words: "the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost" (Luke 19:10). Never mind the fact that the prophets of old prophesied that Jesus "had to suffer these things" before he could "enter his glory" (Luke 24:26). It is right to emphasize Jesus' death and resurrection because the rest of the New Testament does, as do many prophecies from the Old Testament.

This is what I believe about Easter: that Jesus' resurrection from the dead is the pivotal event in all of history, without which there is no hope for this life, no reason to be good, no optimism at funerals, and no chance of our own resurrection and glorification (see 1 Corinthians 15). Somehow, a chocolate cross just doesn't seem right in this context.

Now a chocolate empty tomb, now that would be sweet.

Another Quote for Today

“God’s highest purpose of creation is achieved when his rational creatures are seeking above all else to please him.”

Jack Cottrell, God the Creator, 128

Christian Songs that Inspire Me: In Christ Alone by Stuart Townsend and Keith Getty

I love this song. It's not perfect, but I love it anyway because it is simple melody, easy to learn, and, most important to me, it has lyrics that are carefully written and full of meaning. Here are the words, and I'll save my comments for the end.

In Christ alone my hope is found;
he is my light, my strength, my song.
This cornerstone, this solid ground
firm through the fiercest drought and storm.

What heights of love, what depths of peace
when fears are stilled, when strivings cease.
My comforter, my all in all,
Here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone, who took on flesh,
fullness of God in helpless babe.
This gift of love and righteousness
scorned by the ones he came to save

'Til on that cross as Jesus died
the wrath of God was satisfied,
for every sin on him was laid -
here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground his body lay:
Light of the world by darkness slain.
then bursting forth in glorious day,
up from the grave he rose again!

And as he stands in victory,
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me
for I am his and he is mine,
bought with the precious blood of Christ.

No guilt in life, no fear in death -
this is the power of Christ in me.
From life's first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny.

No power of Hell, no scheme of man
can ever pluck me from his hand.
Til he returns or calls me home,
here in the power of Christ I'll stand.

I'm thankful to the Gettys, who wrote this modern hymn (their description of it). From the first time I heard it, it became one of my all-time favorite songs. I would, however, like to clarify a few things about the lyrics, perhaps fine-tune them a bit:

• "'Til on the cross as Jesus died, the wrath of God was satisfied." Yes, this is true, but it was not God's wrath alone that put Jesus on the cross. It was his great love for us that put him there. I agree with Jack Cottrell: it should say ". . . God's wrath and love were satisfied."
• Darkness did not slay Jesus, the Light of the world. It is poetic and it balances out the reference to light. Certainly the devil thought he had won a great victory, but even he knew that it was not his doing. God is the one who "made him who had no sin to be sin for us." Basically, God the Father slayed Jesus, pouring out his wrath on him and pouring out his love on us.
• I'm not sure that "from life's first cry to final breath Jesus commands my destiny," unless this is a reference to eternal life and Heaven being our destiny (and even then there are some problems with the phrase). This sounds Calvinistic, as if there were no free will. Perhaps we Arminians and our Calvinist friends could agree on this: God foreknew that we would be saved by grace through faith, and therefore it can be said that from birth to death, our "destiny" is settled by God's foreknowledge.

In spite of a few tweaks, I still think this is one of the greatest songs of the last 25 years. I'll post a video of it above this post.

A Few Theological Thoughts on Natural Disasters

Any time a natural disaster strikes in the world (especially in the poorer parts of the world like Haiti), someone, somewhere will ask why God allowed it to happen, or why God caused it to happen. Why doesn't God stop the earthquakes, floods, volcanoes, tornadoes, hurricanes, fires, and any other disaster?

Theologians differ on how to answer this question. It depends on a more foundational question: did God know it would happen? (This also give rise to the related question: could God have stopped it?) Orthodox Christianity says yes. Some Christians believe that God knew it would happen because he decreed for it to happen. That is, God predestined it to happen exactly as it did, and that's why he knew about it. Some Christians believe that God knew it would happen because he simply foreknew or foresaw it happening. That is, God sees the future without causing the future. He permitted it. A few Christians believe that God did not know it would happen (at least not until he could calculate future plate tectonics based on his perfect knowledge of the physical world and his infinite ability to figure things like that out). Once he knew it would happen, he could stop it but permitted it anyway.

I embrace the second option listed above, that God knew it would happen, but allowed it without causing it. Fortunately (but sometimes frustratingly), it's not our job to explain why God permits or prevents anything. He is totally sovereign over all of creation. A few thoughts in that direction, however, can't hurt:

• Whether you think the movement of the tectonic plates is a result of the fall and cursing of the ground or not, the fact remains that it is a natural, normal event on Earth. It happens all the time. It is the location and timing that make it tragic, not the fact of the occurrence.
• As long as people continue to choose to live and build cities along known fault lines, it's only a matter of time for things like this to happen. We can't really be surprised when the next San Francisco or Mexico City earthquake happens, and we shouldn't ask, "how can God let this happen?" We should ask, "how can man let this happen?" "They knew there's a fault line there!"
• I can't say for sure, but perhaps one reason God allows natural disasters to happen (and this probably goes for other kinds of suffering and evil) is because for God to prevent every disaster or suffering caused by nature would basically involve God constantly interrupting or overriding things like gravity, trajectory, momentum, and a hundred other factors which are usually predictable. The world would be entirely unpredictable. If I try to light a match, will it work? What if hitting my brakes would have caused suffering; will God cause my brakes not to work? How could I ever confidently do anything? The scientific method, which depends so much on the principle of uniformity (e.g., gravity works the same everywhere in the universe, photons behave the same etc.), would be rendered useless and scientific progress/knowledge would cease.
  
• A certain amount of pain in life is actually very good, and healthy. The fact that your hand hurts when you put it near fire is a good thing; physical pain is a warning that something is going wrong with the body. The lack of sensation of pain (e.g., Hansen's disease/leprosy) shows us this truth.
• Without some pain and tragedy in life, such virtues as bravery, self-sacrifice, and forebearance wouldn't mean much.
• Just because God is allowing evil and suffering to exist now doesn't mean that evil people are "getting away with it." Don't criticize God when history is not over; he has promised that when Jesus returns, every person will be judged on the basis of what they've done, and if they do not belong to Christ, there is no forgiveness of sins and eternal punishment awaits them.
  

There are probably a dozen other thoughts that could be added, but the reality for the people of Haiti, and for anyone else suffering, is this: all the reasons in the world can't undo the suffering, can't bring anyone back, can't heal the pains and can't reduce the severity of the experience. Arguments like those listed above may have some value, but to those who are actually suffering, it is cold comfort at best.

Theology must always lead to ministry. Ministry, the living out of one's theology and the application of that life onto the lives of others, is the most profound answer to the question of where God is when it hurts. As Philip Yancey concludes, the answer to the question "Where is God when it hurts?" is another question: where is the church when it hurts?

The answer? The church is in Haiti, has been for a long time. You won't read about it much in the papers or on the major news media, but dozens of ministries like International Disaster Emergency Services are making a difference in the name of Jesus.

As it turns out, the question of why God allows things is important, but perhaps not as important as the question of what the Church of Jesus Christ does in response to all the evil and suffering.

Christian Songs that Inspire Me: Revelation Song by Philips, Craig, and Dean

I'm not a total hater. If you've ever clicked on the label at the bottom of the blog that says "Contemporary Christian Music," then you've noticed that nearly every entry is an installment of Christian songs that annoy me. I want to emphasize some songs that I like, songs that actually connect with me existentially. Today I give you "Revelation Song" by Philips, Craig, and Dean. [My comments are in red]

Worthy is the,
Lamb who was slain (Rev. 5:12)
Holy, Holy, is He
Sing a new song, to Him who sits on
Heaven's Mercy Seat (Rev. 4:2, 8)
[Repeat 2x]

(Chorus)
Holy, Holy, Holy
Is the Lord God Almighty
Who was, and is, and is to come (Rev. 4:8)
With all creation I sing:
Praise to the King of Kings!
You are my everything,
And I will adore You…!
Yeah!

Clothed in rainbows, of living color
Flashes of lightning, rolls of thunder (Rev. 4:5)
Blessing and honor, strength and
Glory and power be
To You the Only Wise King, (Rev. 5:13)
Yeah

(Chorus)
Holy, Holy, Holy
Is the Lord God Almighty
Who was, and is, and is to come, yeah
With all creation I sing:
Praise to the King of Kings!
You are my everything,
And – I - will - adore You!
Yeah!

Filled with wonder,
Awestruck wonder
At the mention of Your Name
Jesus, Your Name is Power (Phil. 2:9-10)
Breath, and Living Water (John 4:10-15)
Such a marvelous mystery
Yeah...

(Chorus)
Holy, Holy, Holy
Is the Lord God Almighty
Who was, and is, and is to come, yeah
With all creation I sing:
Praise to the King of Kings!
You are my everything,
And – I - will - adore You!

Holy, Holy, Holy
Is the Lord God Almighty
Who was, and is, and is to come,
With all creation I sing:
Praise to the King of Kings!
You are my everything,
And – I - will - adore YOU…
---------------------------
This song is based largely on Revelation 4-5, two of my favorite chapters in all of Scripture. The glory! The power and majesty are nearly indescribable. This passage ought to challenge the Buddy Christ, Jesus-is-my-homeboy attitude prevalent in so many Christians' lives and sermons. Jesus is the living Lord of all creation, whose name is above all names, before whom every knee will bow in heaven and on earth and under the earth. The elders who surround the throne, who understand Jesus' identity better than anyone, cannot help but fall before Jesus in worship, laying whatever rewards they have been given (their crowns) before him.

Thank you, PCD, for reminding us that reverence is always relevant.

Christian Songs That Annoy Me: "Holy Spirit Come"

Today I want to whine about a song I occasionally hear during worship at church, "Holy Spirit Come," written by Kate Miner:

Holy Spirit come, Holy Spirit dwell
Fill Your church with joy over flowing
And peace over flowing
And love over flowing
In all of Your glory
Come 

What bothers me most about this song is not the fact that it doesn't rhyme (it's the same word repeated three times; though "glory" sort of rhymes with "overflowing" but rhymes better with "overflowy"); what bothers me most is its contradiction of Scripture. I present another song, much older, perhaps, but much more correct:

O LORD, you have searched me and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD.
You hem me in-- behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.
Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,"
even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
(Ps. 139:1-12, emphasis mine)

It cannot be stressed enough: Christian musicians are responsible for the lyrics to their songs. In a way, Christian songwriters are teachers, and music is a powerful tool for teaching Christian doctrine (remember hymns?). Worship leaders and songwriters ought to be very careful in deciding not only how a song sounds (is it worshipful?) but also careful in deciding what the song says (is it true?).

Open Theism and 1 Peter 1:20

I am intrigued by the arguments of Open Theism. This doesn't make me an Open Theist; I am Arminian in my theology, but not Open Theist. For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, here's the gist of Open Theism: God created everything, he gave people free will, he desires genuine relationships with his creatures (code for "we think that God predestining his relationships is not genuine"), so he has chosen to limit himself with regard to certain things, included in which is a comprehensive knowledge of the future choices of free-will creatures. In other words, even God does not know exactly what you or I will choose with regard to many of the choices we make in life. Because he knows the past and present perfectly, though, he can anticipate with a great deal of accuracy, but he cannot know that future perfectly until it happens.

One of Open Theism's most interesting proponents is Gregory Boyd. Known for writing provocative books about a variety of Christian issues (The Myth of a Christian Nation, God of the Possible, Satan and the Problem of Evil to name a few), Boyd's website is the most thorough I've seen when it comes to teaching Open Theism and answering objections. Some of Boyd's explanations are pretty good (because they reveal the close similarity between Open Theism and Arminianism, from which OT came).

Some of his explanations, however, I find unconvincing. Take, for example, his explanation of 1 Peter 1:20:

“[Christ] was destined before the foundation of the world, but was revealed at the end of the ages for our sake. Through him you have come to trust in God…” This passage reveals that God created the world with Jesus Christ in mind (cf. Col. 1:15–17). The divine goal was (and is) to acquire a people who freely participate in and reflect the love of the triune God, and the plan to attain this goal was by having people trust in God through Christ. Though it is sometimes cited as evidence in support of the classical view of foreknowledge, this verse actually has nothing to say on the subject.

What I find unconvincing is Boyd's lack of attention to Greek grammar. For those of you who care, here is the transliterated Greek of 1 Peter 1:19-20 (it's important to include v. 19, as we will see):1 Peter 1:19-20: alla timio haimati hos amnou amomou kai aspilou Christou, proegnosmenou men apo kataboles kosmou phanerothentos de ep' eschatou ton chronon di' humas

The key phrase here is hos amnou amomou kai aspilou Christou, proegnosmenou, which I translate as "as of the spotless lamb without blemish, Christ, having been foreknown. . . ." This phrase describes the blood with which we have been redeemed. I believe that the verb proegnosmenou ("having been foreknown," a perfect passive participle, genitive masculine singular) modifies the entire genitive phrase amnou amomou kai aspilou Christou ("of the spotless lamb without blemish, Christ." What God foreknew ("destined" is a poor translation) was not only Christ, but Christ the spotless lamb without blemish, an identity that requires a significant amount of foreknowledge (that there would be an incarnation among the Jews, that the blood of lambs would be used under the law to atone for sins, that Christ would be killed, that he would be killed in such a way as to make the metaphor of lamb meaningful, that he would die in a period of history in which terms like lamb, redeem, and blood made sense in the same sentence).

Remember, all of this was foreknown "before the foundation of the world," which means before Genesis 1:1, before God said, let there be light, before there was anything else in existence apart from God. How did God know Jesus would die? How did God know how Jesus would die? These are questions for which Open Theism has no sufficient answers.

Should We Push for Prayer in Public Schools?

My brothers and sisters in Christ,

Here are some random thoughts I have about the perceived need many of us have for getting prayer/the study of the Bible back into public schools:

• this effort is misdirected. For what purpose are we wanting prayer in schools? So that all those unbelievers will suddenly start sincerely praying to God and will come to Christ? So that revival will break out in schools across the country? Not likely; mandating prayer may only serve to make people resent us more and believe that we want to convert by any means necessary.
• perhaps we should work on getting more prayer in church and at home before we worry about the schools, as if that's the place for moral and religious education.
• is there not already prayer in schools? Christians can pray anytime, anywhere, and those children who have been taught well will know this and can pray during class, before lunch, and even during conversations with other students.
• we use an argument that can be effectively used against us. When we argue that evolution is wrong and should not be taught in part because Hitler used its premise to justify the Holocaust, we are saying, in effect, that teaching something which has been hijacked by people who do evil in the name of evolution is wrong. People could counter with this: the Bible has been used to justify some pretty evil things that go against the teachings and spirit of Jesus Christ. If people do evil in the name of Christ, then the Bible should not be taught in school, either.
• the way to persuade people of the validity and effectiveness of a Christian worldview is not to try to make rules getting people to behave like us but to live a life of consistent love of God and of neighbor. Your life is a greater testimony that many, many debates and arguments.

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Randall Balmer has gotten to me (probably not). But it seems that "getting God into public schools again" is a scenario based on misinformation: he never left. It is debatable that Christian fervor really thrived when prayer was in school. Lest I be branded a heretic or something, I will say that there is an anti-Christian bias in public schools, but I affirm that the answer is not to respond with a martyr complex while trying to legislate theology.

Am I wrong?

What are we trying to restore?

This semester, my favorite class has been Issues in Acts, a study of the various themes and theological emphases of Luke-Acts. It's one of my favorite class formats, too: everyone writes a paper on a chosen topic, and each week two topics (represented by one or two people each) are presented. For each topic, we read the presenters' papers and some assigned chapters in our textbook. Everyone reads everyone's paper. In class, the presenter gives their presentation and the group discusses the presentation, paper, and related topics. I finished my paper and did my presentation early in the semester, so I have been able to sit back and enjoy the other papers and discussions.

One question has come up in various ways as we have studied through Acts: what should church look like in light of ________? (_______ being whatever topic was presented) As a member of a church that is part of the fellowship of churches known as the Restoration Movement, I find this question of special importance.

[For the uninitiated, the Restoration Movement was and is a philosophy of ministry articulated by men in the early 1800s who were disheartened by the depth of division and bitter rivalry among churches in their day. As an example of such foolishness in the church, consider the denomination from which Thomas Campbell (basically the father of the restoration movement) came: The Old-Light, Anti-Burgher, Seceder Presbyterian Church. They thought they were the one true church, and all others were heretics! What Campbell and others sought to do was unite the church (the whole church, all denominations) on the sole basis of the teachings of Scripture. No creeds were necessary because they are the inventions of man. The goal, then, was and is to restore the New Testament church, accomplishing unity, but unity in truth.]

Obviously, we aren't trying to restore everything about the NT church (Acts 5 and 1 Corinthians 5 for example!). The NT church, even the church in Acts, was flawed, not because God's plan is flawed, but because God's plan involves people. Nevertheless, we strive to restore things like open-handed generosity to those in need, deep dependence on God for all we are and all we have, and boldness and confidence sharing the good news about Jesus.

Sometimes, though, it looks like the Restoration Movement is trying to restore baptism by immersion for the forgiveness of sins and local church autonomy, which are great but are only a fraction of what we ought to be restoring. We in the RM should, must, evaluate how we have done over the last 200 years at achieving our goals. I'm not sure the evaluation would be very positive. In our history, three new denominations (Christian Church/Church of Christ, Church of Christ [A Capella], and the Church of Christ-Disciples of Christ) have been formed, and things are just now beginning to heal some of the wounds, a positive step indeed but indicative that we have a long way to go as the movement that promotes nondenominational unity.

Am I being too optimistic? Too pessimistic? What are we trying to restore?

Matthias: Wrong Man for the Job?

A hermeneutically funny thing happened lately. Twice in the past couple of months, I have heard an argument that has struck a small nerve with me. What makes this all more interesting to me is that I am taking a class this semester called Issues in Acts, a class in which we have looked at various themes in Acts, including the theme of the apostles and the people of God. First, the argument, then what I don't like about it.

The first time I heard the argument, it came from Andy, our very capable preacher. He began a sermon on who knows what with the scene in Acts 1 of the apostles replacing Judas Iscariot with Matthias. He used this event to bring up the question: is it possible that the 11 apostles acted rashly when they replaced Judas? We see later in Acts how Saul is chosen by the risen Christ to be his messenger to the Gentiles. Andy suggested that the 11 just could not wait on God's will to be fully realized and also suggested that Paul was supposed to be the 12th apostle, if only they would have waited on God. I then heard this argument again in another class in Johannine literature after a discussion on John's understanding of Judas. So the argument is that Paul, not Matthias, should have been the 12th apostle. I assume this means that the 11 just should have waited until Saul was converted before they added the 12th apostle.

Here's the text of Acts 1:21-22 "Therefore it is necessary that of the men who have accompanied us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us-- 22 beginning with the baptism of John until the day that He was taken up from us-- one of these must become a witness with us of His resurrection."

Here's what I don't like about this interpretation:

• The single Greek word (dei), translated "it is necessary" or "must," a word that occurs more in Luke-Acts than in the rest of the New Testament, almost always occurs in the context of the will of God or the work of God, indicating that whatever "it" is that is necessary is necessary by divine will. To see this word in action, see Luke 2:49; 4:43; Acts 4:12; 9:6, 16 and several other places.
  
• This word occurs in 1:21, indicating that the replacement of Judas is the will of God.
• The conditions laid out in v. 21-22 would preclude Paul from consideration: he must be one who "accompanied us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us - beginning with the baptism of John until the day he was taken up from us." Paul had not done that.
• The disciples prayed, asking God to intervene in the process: "show which of these two you have chosen" (1:24). They then cast lots, not an equivalent of rolling dice, but a means of revealing God's will.

This may not be a big deal to anyone out there; there is certainly no important bit of Christian theology at stake here. It is, however, a matter of paying attention to the text and doing a little concordance work, which ought not to be too much to ask of anyone preaching or teaching this passage.

Book Review: 90 Minutes in Heaven (Part Two)

(Note: this part won't make as much sense unless you read part one below)

Theological Accuracy: 20/40 Why the low score? The question ought to be this: why the high score? The score is not lower because, for once, the low number of pages actually dealing with heaven helps him here. Surely he cannot err too many times in 16 pages?

Here's what makes grading this so difficult: how do you say to someone, "your experience was wrong"? You really can't. You can say, "Your experience is different from the experience of other, more trustworthy, people who claim the same thing you have." And that's what I'm doing here. The "other, more trustworthy" person in this case is the apostle John. But we can say Piper is wrong because when you say something different from what the Bible says (for example, the Bible is the Word of God, but so is the Book of Mormon, the Pearl of Great Price, etc.), that is wrong. The Bible is the standard against which we measure our experiences. Scripture is the filter for experience; experience is not the filter for Scripture. In other words, the Bible tells us what our experiences in life mean. It is not "our experiences tell us what the Bible means," as is the mistake of so many.

Back to Piper. Here are my biggest peeves with his experience of heaven.

1) He believes there is no sense of time in Heaven. Apart from some philosophical objections to finite creatures living in a timeless existence, my concern is biblical. He writes, "I'm not sure if they actually said the words or not, but I knew they had been waiting and expecting me, yet I also knew that in heaven there is no sense of time passing" (25). Here he's speaking about loved ones who came to greet him in Heaven. Piper betrays his own conclusion about there not being a sense of time when he "knew" they had been waiting and expecting him, things no one can do without a sense of time. If we look in Revelation, we see more than once a sense of time: Rev. 6:10-11: the martyrs (in Heaven!) "called out in a loud voice, 'How long, Sovereign Lord, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?' Then each of them was given a white robe, and they were told to wait a little longer, until the number of their fellow servants and brothers who were to be killed as they had been was completed." See also Rev. 8:1 and every reference containing the word "then" (about 53 times in Revelation).

2) Piper believes there are no songs in Heaven about Jesus' death. "As I stood before the gate, I didn't think of it, but later I realized that I didn't hear such songs as 'The Old Rugged Cross' or 'The Nail-Scarred Hand.' None of the hymns that filled the air were about Jesus' sacrifice or death. I heard no sad songs and instinctively knew that there are no sad songs in heaven. Why would there be? All were praises about Christ's reign as King of Kings and our joyful worship for all he has done for us and how wonderful he is" (31). This has to be one of the most mind-boggling contentions in the whole book. A few notes here:

1. There are indeed songs about Jesus' death in Heaven (Rev. 5:9-14). According to the song in Rev. 5, the reason Jesus is worthy to open the scrolls is "because you were slain, and with your blood you purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation" (5:9)!
   
2. Every mention of Jesus appearing as a Lamb is a reference to his death (5:6, 8, 12, 13; 6:3, 5, 7, 16; 7:9, 10, 14, 17; 12:11; 13:8; 15:3; 21:9 to name a few). Even if these are not songs, Jesus being the slain Lamb is a central theme in Revelation. Apart from the OT imagery of sacrificing lambs to atone for sins, this metaphor would not make any sense.
   
3. How could there be songs about "all he has done for us" if those songs did not include his death for our sins? The greatest work of Jesus was done on the cross; "all he has done for us" is almost meaningless apart from the cross.
4. Are songs about Jesus' death really sad? I would submit that songs about Jesus' death are some of the happiest, most joyful songs we sing. His death and resurrection is the good news!
   

3. Piper did not see Jesus in Heaven. In the 16 pages describing his experience, he makes no mention of seeing Jesus there. Friends and family come out to meet him, he mentions hearing songs praising God, but nothing about Jesus. This does not necessarily disprove his experience, but it does seem strange. What makes Heaven Heaven is that Jesus is there! Otherwise it's just a really nice place. I can't wait to meet family and friends who have gone before, let alone the apostles and other giants of church history. But the one I most want to see is Jesus (Rev. 22:4).

Persuasion: 10/25 I am not persuaded because of two factors: 1) the glaring theological errors, and 2) the self-centered nature of the entire book. Yes, it's autobiographical. Yes, it's about experience. But at times it goes beyond "telling my story" to "promoting my story." Take this excerpt for example: "I'm writing about what happened because my story seems to mean so much to people for many different reasons. For example, when I speak to any large crowd, at least one person will be present who has recently lost a loved one and needs assurance of that person's destination. When I finish speaking, it still amazes me to see how quickly the line forms of those who want to talk to me. They come with tears in their eyes and grief written all over their faces. I feel so grateful that I can offer them peace and assurance" (128-129). Me, me, me, me, me, me. Forget the Bible, I'm just glad my story can help people. How arrogant! Mr. Piper, you can't truly give assurance of anyone's destination; how do you know?

There are other things about this book I just don't like, little statements here and there that get me bent out of shape. He says that "I've changed the way I do funerals. Now I can speak authoritatively about heaven from firsthand knowledge" (129). To me, this says, "I trust my experience more than I trust Scripture. I could never speak authoritatively just using the Bible." Doesn't that sound crazy? Later he talks about knowing that heaven is real because he's been there (195). Pardon me, but I know heaven is real because Jesus said it was. I knew it without having to go there first! Does Piper need to go to hell to know that it, too, exists?

Conclusion: I don't recommend this book to help people cope with death or uncertainty about Heaven. I recommend Scripture for that. It's a somewhat interesting read, but I grew weary of reading about how much pain he suffered in his leg and how depressed he was. I really grew weary of him describing how much he (not God) has helped people with his story.
Something happened to Don Piper that day, but I don't think it was a trip to heaven.

Book Review: 90 Minutes in Heaven (Part One)

I read Don Piper's 90 Minutes in Heaven as part of my research for a series of lessons I taught on Heaven to my Sunday School class at church. After reading it, I must say I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I don't think he's lying; I think he had some sort of experience, and as far as we know, he really was dead at the scene of the accident. On the other hand, his experience is not consistent with what the Bible says about Heaven. But we'll get to that in a little bit.

Since this is my first book review, I am devising an arbitrary grading matrix for book reviews. I will give the book up to 100 points, split up into the categories of Readability (15 points), Theological Accuracy (40 points), Accomplishment of Thesis (20 points), and Persuasion (25 points). If I don't like this setup, I'll change it for the next book review.

Here's the basic story of the book: Don Piper, a Baptist minister, was driving home from a convention in Texas on January 18, 1989. While crossing a bridge, a large supply truck from a prison lost control and hit him head-on, crushing his little Ford Escort and killing him instantly. He was declared dead by EMTs at 11:45 am and was left in the car until the coroner arrived. Meanwhile, a fellow Baptist minister and convention attendee came up on the scene and felt a strong burden to pray for the then-unknown man in the car. After persuading the EMTs to let him pray for the dead man, he climbed inside the car and laid a hand on Piper's good shoulder (the left was barely still there) and prayed for quite a while, intermittently singing hymns. At 1:15 pm, during a song, the dead man began to sing along with the minister. Piper was rushed to the hospital and the rest of the book details his time in Heaven, his recovery, and his subsequent ministry.

So here we go. Readability: 10/15. Piper and co-author Cecil Murphy are not the best writers I've read. They're not bad, either. At times, you can sense them struggling for the right words to express what Piper experienced, and sometimes it just ends up summarizing overwhelming experiences with somewhat cliche wording: "I still didn't know why, but the joyousness of the place wiped away any questions. Everything felt blissful. Perfect" (23).

Accomplishment of Thesis: 10/20. The reason for the low score is because when I bought this book, I expected it to be a book about Don Piper's 90 minutes in Heaven. Only 16 out of 205 pages actually describe his time in Heaven, a major bait-and-switch. The book should be called Back From the Dead: One Man's Painful Journey of Recovery After a Fatal Car Accident. Nearly 170 pages chronicle his physical and emotional recovery.

Stay tuned for part two.

Sit Next To Me

It's not every day that you come to theological realizations at McDonald's.

As I sat alone, eating my double cheeseburger and wondering what I needed to do next on my list of errands, two ladies entered the restaurant, each with one son who was friends with the other. The boys were pretty excited about being at McDonald's, as evidenced by their sprint through the open door and subsequent opening of everything with a handle, starting with the door to the trash bin. While the two ladies ordered lunch, they apparently sent the boys off to secure a table. They scurried about, weaving in and out of several tables before settling on a large, rounded booth with more than enough seating for two little boys and their moms.

One boy said to the other, "Come sit with me."

The other asked outright, "Why?"

Without any hesitation, the first boy said, "Because I love you."

I smiled, and immediately my eyes began to tear up. I tried to hide it: people might have thought, what's this guy's problem? Is the food that bad? It wasn't the food, however, that brought tears to my eyes. It was the nature of the conversation and the sheer honesty on the part of both boys, one wondering why he should sit next to his friend, and the other wanting him to simply because "I love you." You could interpret the conversation this way:

"Come, sit with me."

"Why? What have I ever done to deserve or warrant you, my best friend, wanting me to sit next to you?"

"Nothing. Sit with me because I love you. Isn't that enough?"

I have not had that conversation with any of my friends. At least, not yet. But I know someone who has.

Jesus told the church in Laodicea, "To him who overcomes, I will give the right to sit with me on my throne, just as I overcame and sat down with my Father on his throne."

Brothers and sisters in Christ, if we overcome life in this sin-filled world, if we escape the corruption of immorality and the manifold temptations waging war on our souls, Jesus will one day say to us (even us who, like the Laodiceans, have at times been lukewarm in our faith), "Come sit with me."

And we'll say, "Why?"

And Jesus will say, "Because I love you."

Christian Songs that Annoy Me (Part 3)

This installment's (dis)honor goes to Michael W. Smith for his horrendous attempt to garner more charismatic fans with the debacle known as "Healing Rain." Here are the lyrics, interspersed with my biting sarcasm and slightly insightful criticism (my comments are in red):

Healing rain (which is what, exactly?) is coming down

It's coming nearer to this old town

Rich and poor, weak and strong

It's bringing mercy, it won't be long

(good, 'cause we've been without mercy for some time now. . . what?)

Healing rain is coming down

It's coming closer to the lost and found

(Have you not read Heb. 4:16 or Luke 1:50?)

Tears of joy and tears of shame

Are washed forever in Jesus' name

(Yes, but not by some mysterious "rain," but by

the fact of our justification)

Chorus

Healing rain, it comes with fire

(Again, what is this, exactly? And talk about mixing metaphors - rain comes as fire?)

So let it fall and take us higher

(I don't understand what "take us higher" means -

Michael, vagueness does not equal being spiritual or pithy.

It does rhyme with "fire," though)

Healing rain, I'm not afraid

To be washed in Heaven's rain

(All the occurrences of "rain" and "heaven" in the same verse

have nothing to do with Heaven, where we go when we die,

they refer to heaven (small h), another way to say "the sky")

Lift your heads, let us return

To the mercy seat where time began

(Stop the music! "The mercy seat where time began"?? Perhaps I'm being overly literal, but was there not time before the mercy seat existed, say, from Gen. 1:1-Ex. 25:17, where the word for "mercy seat" first appears in the Bible? My vote for where time began is "in the beginning")

And in your eyes I see the pain

Come soak this dry heart with healing rain

And only You, the Son of man

Can take a leper and let him stand

So lift your hands, they can be held

By someone greater, the Great I Am

Healing rain is falling down

Healing rain is falling down

I'm not afraid I'm not afraid

---------------

I'm not a big MWS fan to begin with, so this really didn't hurt to do. Again, Nashville, listen up: pay attention to the meaning, not just the rhyming, of words, especially since what makes Christian music Christian is the meaning of the words! This song doesn't make sense biblically or theologically, so it really can't be helpful to people who stop to think about or try to get what he's saying. Theology matters, and everyone is a theologian. Let us study God's Word, lest we blindly accept songs with all fluff and no substance as "poignant," and "lacking only time to become a classic" (actual comments I found about this song).

Ecclesiodicy, The Justification of Church

[Mood: contemplative and a little crusty]

I've been thinking about theodicy lately. If that term is new to you, don't worry: it's a fancy term meaning "the justification of God," but it's used in philosophical and theological writings to describe an entire discussion which boils down to this: If God is all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-loving, then why is there evil and suffering in the world? Is it because God cannot stop it, or is it because he will not stop it? A theodicy, therefore, argues how God can be what Christians say he is and yet allow evil and suffering. I will not go into all that now; if you are interested, I would refer you here.

Philip Yancey, in his excellent book Where is God When it Hurts?, was asked to boil down the meaning of that book to one sentence. His answer: "Where is the Church when it hurts?" This is a brilliant point; if the church is the body of Christ, the primary agency through which God interacts with the world, and evil exists, then perhaps the question could be altered a bit: If the church is empowered by God (as defined above - all powerful etc.), then why is there superfluous evil and suffering in the world? Is it because the church can not stop it or because it will not stop it? Maybe we should back the question up more: does the church even want to stop it?

You are probably crying out, "False choice!" And I would agree with you; the church does want to stop the evil and suffering in this world. The problem is that, unlike God, the church cannot be everywhere at once in the same way. And, unlike God, the church does not have unlimited physical and financial resources.

But still, why aren't churches always the first responders to disaster? Why doesn't the church do more to help in places like Darfur? Or is the church really helping and also going unnoticed by the media? How much does the church have to do before skeptics will say, "Ahh, now the church cares"? It seems that no matter what the church does, it will never be enough.

Let's bring it home: when someone in your church or surrounding community suffers or experiences evil, where is your church? Do they help? Take up offerings and donations? Turn the other way? Add them to the prayer list?

Where is the church when it hurts?

Blargument, Third and Final Round

Anonymous is not pleased.

You can read the comment at the end of my last post. This is the last post I will make regarding this topic. Rather than commenting on the content of Anonymous' comments, I simply want to comment on the importance of presuppositions, those assumptions about the world we all bring to our understanding of anything, especially the Bible and theology. Presuppositions are difficult to avoid, and sometimes they are not bad. They are bad if they do not allow a person to view a subject any other way than thier presuppositions allow.

Anonymous belongs to a church that believes (I hope I'm being accurate here) that there is only one God, Jesus. There is no Father and no Holy Spirit, at least not as separate persons of the Godhead. They are all manifestations of Jesus. All of the Old Testament names for God are names for Jesus. The OT says there is one God, one Lord. The NT says Jesus is God. Therefore, they claim, every Scripture that mentions "God" refers to Jesus and Jesus alone. These are their presuppositions. They will claim that they are inferences or direct teachings straight from Scripture, not the teachings of men.

The problem is, that's what everyone says about their beliefs.

I claim that God is one God in three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, each of whom is rightly called God, but none of whom fully expresses God. They are eternally coequal, coexistent, and are the perfect expression of fellowship, community, and truth. I, too, do not base these assertions on traditions, but on Scripture. Hence, the problem between Anonymous and me: our presuppositions are contradictory, yet we both base them on Scripture.

The problem deepens: if we both accept the law of noncontradiction (that something cannot be and not be at the same time in the same way), then one of us is wrong. Anonymous will say that I am wrong, and I say that Anonymous is wrong. I believe Anonymous' presuppositions are faulty and not based on Scripture but on a creative interpretation of Scripture that is not warranted by the text itself. So many verses mention the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as separate, yet all are called God, and there is only one God. This is somewhat paradoxical, and many have labored to describe it. Welcome to orthodoxy.

Anonymous and I have too many disagreeing presuppositions ever to come to agreement. The end of it, though, being as this is my blog and if you don't like it, start your own blog, is this: I'm right, my understanding is more orthodox and historical than yours, and you are not honestly dealing with the wealth of (especially NT) texts that explicitly list (sometimes in the same verse!) all three persons.

That's my blog, and I'm sticking to it.:)