tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35000362024-02-19T05:46:06.007-05:00He LivesThe doctrines of grace as seen by a nuclear physicistDavidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.comBlogger1698125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-87242767350208113142022-07-14T11:56:00.001-04:002022-07-14T11:56:34.016-04:00C.S. Lewis and Evolution<p>C. S. Lewis seems to accept evolution and an "ensoulment" type view regarding the creation of Adam and Eve, supernaturally crossing <i>Imago Dei </i>threshold through divine intervention acting upon genetically equivalent hominids. If I read him correctly, I agree, and further speculate (wildly) <sup>1</sup> that those hominids provided, for a time, the reproductive mates of A&E's descendants.</p><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnpSEMYvTGoI2jl8Mc1G0TXjKSKajeRPOb_7zQ0bzcezaKrM1L9PYq_km4dToV0eiyBUvM7yHEVlHQ_1KmWeNAk8y3vWWfa-UB9ubW1iJHM_O8lEZ0ha4Aw3X8IZNQGwmpGiJwwn8fNlHgM9gQpqSqhwS64bH4svXBiMuwugPG3tDFutFng/s619/Screen%20Shot%202022-07-14%20at%2011.50.46%20AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="619" data-original-width="608" height="453" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnpSEMYvTGoI2jl8Mc1G0TXjKSKajeRPOb_7zQ0bzcezaKrM1L9PYq_km4dToV0eiyBUvM7yHEVlHQ_1KmWeNAk8y3vWWfa-UB9ubW1iJHM_O8lEZ0ha4Aw3X8IZNQGwmpGiJwwn8fNlHgM9gQpqSqhwS64bH4svXBiMuwugPG3tDFutFng/w444-h453/Screen%20Shot%202022-07-14%20at%2011.50.46%20AM.png" width="444" /></a></div><br /><div><br />
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<sup>1</sup> Everyone speculates wildly here. YECs outdo themselves, often speculating the Seth's wife was a mysterious sister, never mentioned. And how Cain established cities in exile... well who knows? This speculation, in addition to a <i>yechh</i> factor, implies that God's moral law, in this case a prohibition against incest, is not absolute.</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-36193060778966628742022-07-13T10:42:00.002-04:002022-07-13T13:20:51.787-04:00Did David Rape Bathsheba?This is a hot topic, at least in the twitterverse. And nobody on either side of this debate will agree with me.<div><br /></div><div>Let us approach it with two propositions: </div><div><br /></div><div><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>Bathsheba did not entice or seduce David. The bible makes it clear that David alone is responsible for this sin. There is no condemnation of Bathsheba anywhere in scripture.</li><li>Bathsheba acquiesced to the liaison because David was King of the Land. </li></ol></div><div><br /></div><div>Was it rape?</div><div><br /></div><div>By the definition of rape in the modern western world, it was. We now accept that taking advantage of a massive power differential is a form of irresistible force, ergo rape. Bill and Monica; David and Bathsheba; professor and student.</div><div><br /></div><div>But by the definition of rape prior to, say, the 1990s, it was not. It was atrocious, cad behavior. Cause for dismissal and disgrace perhaps, but not meeting the legal definition of rape. We may not like that view, but that's the way it was. </div><div><br /></div><div>And it was not rape 3000 years ago in Palestine, otherwise the Bible would have referred to it as rape, lest you think the Holy Spirit is incapable of inspiring truth and accuracy. But the sin the Bible ascribes to the incident is adultery, not rape and not adultery and rape.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wish people would use a qualifier, such as: <i>By the currently accepted definition of rape,</i> <i>David raped Bathsheba.</i> It would be impossible to argue with such a conclusion assuming you accept the two propositions above.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-78341890826025226382021-07-28T09:27:00.003-04:002021-07-28T09:36:25.234-04:00I believe in micro physics, but not macro physicsI often hear from my Christian brothers and sisters that they accept “microevolution” but not “macroevolution”. In truth there is no difference. The processes are exactly the same. <sup>1</sup>
However, we can, <i>arguendo</i>, adopt an artificial but common working definition: microevolution does not result in a new species; macroevolution does. <div><br /></div><div>Of course, we are then faced with the challenge of defining <i>species</i>, which is harder that it would seem. However, we can again, <i>arguendo</i>, agree (even though it has problems) to accept the common working definition: if two populations cannot successfully breed, then they are distinct species. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'll say from the onset there is no point is actually arguing with someone who affirms micro but not macro evolution. No amount of evidence will persuade them. Been there, done that, and didn't get as much as a T-shirt. I have never (and I have witnessed literally hundreds of such arguments) encountered someone who changed their position on macroevolution. This is not a debate that is approached with open minds. </div><div><br /></div><div>But for the sake of completeness: the evidence is overwhelming. There is the fossil record with millions of snapshots of macroevolution occurring as an aggregation of microevolutionary steps. For a “living” example, there are <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ring_species">ring species</a>. <sup>2</sup> There are <a href="https://evolution.berkeley.edu/evolibrary/news/100201_speciation">also candidates</a> for witnessing speciation in complex organisms in much smaller time scales than previously imagined. Birds that suddenly (from microevolution) split into populations with two very distinct migratory paths appear to be on the cusp of speciation. </div><div><br /></div><div>The purpose of this post is to present an analogy, which will convince nobody because, as already mentioned, nobody who says “micro-yes, macro-no” is actually willing to evaluate the evidence. So this is mostly for fun. </div><h4 style="text-align: left;"><br /></h4><h4 style="text-align: left;">Micro and macro physics evolution </h4><div><br /></div><div>An astronomer with a telescope is a cosmic paleontologist. When an astronomer gazes at something a billion light years away, they are, given the finite speed of light, looking back in time approximately a billion years. <sup>3</sup> What they are seeing, in every sense of the word, is a fossil. The farther we look is just like the deeper we dig. </div><div><br /></div><div>Looking farther away we are seeing (a bit counterintuitively) <i>younger</i> things, in the sense they are as they were at a time closer to the creation event, the big bang.
And what we see as we gaze from the farthest reaches to our local area is physics (cosmic) evolution. Far away we see nascent galaxies and stars made from the products of the big bang but with low metallicity (because metals, which to astronomers includes anything beyond helium, didn't exist when the star formed. Why not? Because it takes stars to manufacture metals and then die and obligingly seed space with these heavier elements that can then be incorporated in the next generation of stars.) <sup>4</sup> As we gaze closer to home we see more complex structures (such as mature galaxies) that formed later.</div><div><br /></div><div>So we see fossils with a clear evolutionary process, from clouds of hydrogen and helium to the interstellar medium condensing to early stars and galaxies all the way to more recent (but older in terms of time from the big bang) complex galaxies and structures such as our Milky Way. We see fossils including transitional forms. </div><div><br /></div><div>So imagine this point of view:
<blockquote><b>Ken:</b> I believe in <i>micro</i> physics evolution, but not <i>macro</i> physics evolution. If I drop my phone, the laws of physics cause it to fall and hit the earth. The screen might crack, but it’s <i>still</i> a phone. The earth might change ever so slightly, but it’s <i>still</i> the earth. </blockquote><blockquote>
<b>Charles:</b> But the very same process (gravitation) is what caused stars and galaxies to form from the primordial hydrogen and helium produced by the big bang, from a long drawn-out series of gravitational micro-steps. We see this evolution very clearly in our telescopes. </blockquote><blockquote>
<b>Ken:</b> How do you <i>know</i> there was a process? Has anyone seen it in real time? Maybe the distant galaxies look “young” not because we are looking back in time, but that’s how they will <i>always</i> look, even to their nearby observers, if there are any. They were just created that way. No, unless I see hydrogen and helium clouds form a spiral galaxy, I’m not going to believe it.
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It’s the same argument, is it not?</div><div><br />
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<sup>1</sup> I’m a theistic evolutionist. Which means that I accept the theory of evolution but add to it the supernatural presupposition that the process was/is never outside the domain of God’s sovereignty. Just like I accept the physics laws governing gravity, even though I don’t accept that they operate outside of God’s sovereignty. There is no scientific consequence of this presupposition. A practicing theistic evolutionary scientist would perform the same experiments and analyses as their atheistic colleagues. Science doesn’t give a rat’s derriere about your philosophical leanings. It only demands that you follow the rules of the scientific method. </div><div><br /></div><div><sup>2</sup> In a nutshell a ring species is like this: species <i>A</i> is thriving in California. Part of the population, for whatever reason, moves east to Iowa. After a while this <i>B</i> population is visibly distinct. But <i>A</i> and <i>B</i> can still breed. Same species. Now part of <i>B</i> migrates farther east, to Virginia. After awhile this group, call it <i>C</i>, is visibly distinct from both <i>B</i> and <i>A</i>. However, there is a lack of breeding transitivity. While <i>A</i> can breed with <i>B</i>, and <i>B</i> with <i>C</i>, <i>A</i> cannot breed with <i>C</i>. <i>A</i> and <i>C</i> are distinct species, arrived at by a series of microevolutionary steps, even though <i>A</i> (where it all began) is not extinct. </div><div><br /></div><div><sup>3</sup> This is only approximate because of the expansion of space (which is really, in some sense, the continuous creation of space which leads to the appearance of expansion). The range of our vision (a physics limit, not a technology limit) is about 43 billion light years, at which point we see objects as they were very shortly after the big bang, a bit shy of 14 billion years ago. </div><div><br /></div><div><sup>4</sup> Astronomers designate the generations of stars by Population 1, 2 or 3. But astronomers are crazy people who do everything bass-ackwards. The first stars created are Population 3.
</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-33344553069808221492021-06-14T09:28:00.004-04:002021-06-14T09:34:41.540-04:00The Raiders of the Lost Ark of the Moral LawViewed against the span of Christian history, Dispensationalism is very new, and Covenant Theology only a little older. Though both, along with the General Baptists, have deluded themselves and claim they have been around since apostolic times, if not earlier. <div><br /></div><div>As I have written many times, I am in closer agreement with Covenant Theology, though I have many disagreements. </div><div><br /></div><div>I certainly disagree with the way they often simply make things up. Then they attempt to justify what they make up using classical philosophy while calling those who disagree with them biblicists (a term I embrace, but not in the form of the grotesque caricature they use as a straw man) antinomians, and other types of heretics. </div><div><br /></div><div>In truth (and acknowledged by some of their own, such as Bavinck<sup>[1]</sup>) the development of Covenant Theology had at first a singular purpose: to preserve paedobaptism. To accomplish this goal, they developed the concept of a single over-arching covenant (of grace) that spans human history. This is in spite of the fact that the bible makes no reference to such a covenant, and in fact makes plain reference to the <i>old</i> and <i>new</i> (and better) covenants as being utterly distinct. But only simpleminded biblicists point that out, for we are somewhat incapable of invoking Plato to tease out new doctrine that is not only not present but actually superficially (to us chowderheads) at odds with scripture. </div><div><br /></div><div>Once you have a single over-arching covenant, you are forced into a theology that stresses continuity. <i>Over</i> stresses continuity—all so that infant circumcision can morph into infant baptism.<sup>[2]</sup> (Dispensationalism, on the other hand, over-stresses discontinuity.) </div><div><br /></div><div>We must admit that covenant theologians are among the cleverest people who delve into theology. When they invent something to fit their theology, they make it sound like something that you could not possibly be against unless you were a minion of the antichrist. </div><div><br /></div><div>One complex invention of Covenant Theologians are the (not found anywhere in scripture—sorry that’s again the biblicist within) arbitrary divisions of the law. They were created when their zeal for continuity came face to face with the reality of all the covenantal laws the Jews were under.<i> We want continuity, but we don’t want circumcision</i>! </div><div><br /></div><div>Well, to satisfy their continuity lust, they relabeled the Decalogue the “Eternal Moral Law of God” and the other laws became “ceremonial” or “civil” or “positive”. This satisfied most (but not the theonomists, who in some ways are the most self-consistent covenant theologians) as it allowed them to be “as continuous as they could be.” </div><div><br /></div><div>Some even argue the that Decalogue was the law written on the hearts of all people, even before the fall. But there is not one jot or tittle of scripture to support this.
The Decalogue is <i>never</i> referred to as the moral law of God, let alone the fully revealed eternal moral law of God. <i>It is referred to as law of the covenant</i>, and the box that carried around the tablets as the <i>ark of the covenant</i>, not the <i>ark of the moral law</i>. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here we summarize some distinctions: </div><div><br /></div><div><b>Covenant view:</b> There were many types of laws given to the Jews. There were positive laws, there were ceremonial and civil laws, and there were moral laws. And the moral laws are either entirely found in the Ten Commandments, or there is a subset of the moral laws, those that are eternal, that are the Ten Commandments. And these eternal moral laws (since they are eternal) simply <i>must</i> be the laws that were written on hearts going back to the garden. Jesus, in the Sermon on the Mount, is not giving new law, he is merely correcting bad teaching. </div><div><br /></div><div><b>Biblicist View:</b> All of God’s laws are moral. Jews were not morally obliged to obey the Decalogue and ceremonially obliged to obey the law on circumcision. They were morally obligated to obey both and all other laws of their covenant. These old covenant laws went away with the onset of the new covenant, and Mosaic law was replaced by a new and better revelation of the law given by Jesus. </div><div><br /></div><div>It is actually quite strange, when you think about it, to call only a subset of God’s law <i>moral</i>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Interestingly enough, the great confessions are quite revealing in this matter. For example, in the WCF we read:
<blockquote>Beside this law [the Decalogue], <b>commonly</b> <b>called</b> <b>moral</b>, (WCF 19.3)</blockquote>
Even by the rather weak standard of scriptural proof texts for the pronouncements of the confession, none is provided to justify renaming the Ten Commandments as the moral law of God. The only justification provided is that it was “commonly called” such. By whom we are not told. And since the confession was written, the rather mild “commonly called” has evolved an understanding more in line with: “Thou Shalt Call it the Eternal Moral of God and Nothing Less.”</div><div><br />
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<sup>[1]</sup> “The covenant was the sure scriptural objective ground upon which all the Reformed, together and without distinction, based the right to infant baptism. They had no other deeper or more solid ground." (Herman Bavinck, <i>Reformed Dogmatics</i>.) </div><div><br /></div><div><sup>[2] </sup>That’s not to say I disagree with infant baptism. I disagree that the justification for infant baptism is connected to circumcision.
</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-69164962519213430752021-06-07T14:23:00.002-04:002021-06-08T08:27:25.062-04:00THE Reformer did not teach that the Christian Sabbath must be on Sunday<blockquote><sup>1</sup>Now concerning the collection for the saints, as I have given orders to the churches of Galatia, so you must do also: <sup>2</sup> On the first day of the week let each one of you lay something aside, storing up as he may prosper, that there be no collections when I come. (1 Cor 16:1-2., NKJV)</blockquote>
The literal translation of the start of verse 2 is along the lines of “On one of the Sabbaths.” By tradition, it gets translated as “on the first day of the week” and is then taken (incorrectly, in my opinion) to mean that Paul is <i>prescribing</i> that Sunday is to be the Christian Sabbath.
John Calvin disagreed. He argued that what Paul meant was the literal: That on <i>one</i> of the Sabbaths (or more) before Paul arrives they should collect an offering for Jerusalem. A day of the week is not in mind. Given that Paul was coming at some indeterminate time in the future and not the following week, the literal interpretation is a better fit.<div><br /></div><div>Calvin writes:</div><div><div><blockquote>The clause rendered on one of the Sabbaths, (κατὰ μίαν σαββάτων,) Chrysostom explains to mean — the first Sabbath. In this I do not agree with him; for Paul means rather that they should contribute, one on one Sabbath and another on another; or even each of them every Sabbath, if they chose. <b>For he has an eye, first of all, to convenience</b>, and farther, that the sacred assembly, in which the communion of saints is celebrated, might be an additional spur to them. Nor am I more inclined to admit the view taken by Chrysostom — that the term Sabbath is employed here to mean the Lord’s day, (Revelation 1:10,) for the probability is, that the Apostles, at the beginning, <b>retained the day that was already in use</b>, but that afterwards, constrained by the superstition of the Jews, they set aside that day, <b>and substituted another.</b> Now the Lord’s day was made choice of, chiefly because our Lord’s resurrection put an end to the shadows of the law. <b>Hence the day itself puts us in mind of our Christian liberty. </b>We may, however, very readily infer from this passage, that believers have always had a certain day of rest from labor — <b>not as if the worship of God consisted in idleness, but because it is of importance for the common harmony, that a certain day should be appointed for holding sacred assemblies, as they cannot be held every day. </b>For as to Paul’s forbidding elsewhere (Galatians 4:10) that any distinction should be made between one day and another, that must be understood to be with a view to religion, and not with a view to polity or external order. (Calvin's Commentary on 1 Cor., emphasis added)</blockquote>
Regarding the Lord’s Day, Calvin is arguing that the early church held it on Saturday, but to avoid confusion with the Jewish Holy Day they moved it, as one might naturally expect if you are going to move it, to the next day, Sunday, or the first day. Not because scripture mandated that the day of corporate worship to coincide with the day of the week of our Lord's resurrection (although that's certainly a wonderful alignment) but because it was convenient. In that view, this passage:<div>
<blockquote>Now on the first day of the week, when the disciples came together to break bread, Paul, ready to depart the next day, spoke to them and continued his message until midnight. (Acts 20:7, NKJV)</blockquote>
is <i>describing</i>, not <i>prescribing</i>. Which is how it reads.<br /><div><br /></div><div>R. C. Sproul was, as far as I can tell, in agreement with Calvin and <a href="https://www.ligonier.org/learn/articles/defining-debate/">summarizes Calvin’s position this way</a>:
<blockquote>John Calvin argued that it would be legitimate to have the Sabbath day on any day if all of the churches would agree, because the principle in view was the regular assembling of the saints for corporate worship and for the observation of rest.</blockquote>
Modern uber-reformed confessionalists argue that worship <i>must</i> be on Sunday, not as a matter of convenience or tradition (which are perfectly fine reasons to hold worship services on Sunday, not to mention most people have the day off) but for incorrect legalism-- that is they falsely teach that scripture <i>calls</i> for Sunday worship. What choice do they have? Many take an all or nothing approach the a giant uninspired confession that calls for prescribed Sunday worship, with scriptural proof texts that, is often the case, fall short of living up to their billing. </div><div><br /></div><div>Many of the uber-reformed agree with Calvin except when they don't, such as his position on the necessity of Sunday Worship, the perpetual virginity of Mary (and consequently that Jesus had no blood brothers--Calvin affirmed this) and, if they are Baptists, on paedobaptism. When they lament "what has happened to the Reformation?" what they really mean is "What has happened the part of the Reformation we agree with?"</div></div></div></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-87914752022040113042021-05-29T15:27:00.009-04:002021-05-30T07:59:21.823-04:00Sin that does not lead to death, vs. sin that does. <blockquote><sup>14</sup> Now this is the confidence that we have in Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. <sup>15</sup> And if we know that He hears us, whatever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we have asked of Him. (1John 5:14-15, NKJV)</blockquote>
This passage provides the context for the discussion to follow. These two verses reemphasize our “First Amendment Rights” when it comes to God. We have a God we can approach with confidence, and a God who can multitask—while maintaining the universe he will <i>hear</i> our prayers.
<blockquote><sup>16</sup> If anyone sees his brother sinning a sin which does not lead to death, he will ask, and He will give him life for those who commit sin not leading to death. There is sin leading to death. I do not say that he should pray about that. <sup>17</sup> All unrighteousness is sin, and there is sin not leading to death. (1John 5:16-17, NKJV)
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With the context and principle provided by verses 15 and 16, we have in the next two verses an application: pray for a fellow believer who is in spiritual distress due to sinning. This presumably means a believer who has, for a season, descended into a <i>lifestyle</i> besotted with sin. (I’ve lived in that zip code). <div><br /></div><div>However, this passage (which could be so simple!) also makes a seemingly mysterious distinction between sin that <i>does</i> vs. sin that <i>does not</i> lead unto death. To me, an unexpected and unwelcome complication. </div><div><br /></div><div>Our Catholic friends might readily find in this the difference between venial and mortal sin, but in truth that dogma would not be developed for centuries. Even more to the point, there is no prohibition (in fact, quite the contrary) in Catholicism regarding praying for someone who has committed a mortal sin. Abortion is a mortal sin according to Roman Catholicism, yet the Catholic Church does not instruct its adherents to avoid praying for the women involved. </div><div><br /></div><div>Nor does “unto death” versus “not unto death” seem to refer to sin that leads to actual and immediate physical death, a la Ananias and Sapphira. It would be rather pointless to tell us not to pray for someone who just dropped dead after committing a sin. I think we'd intuitively "get it" if, while watching an ISIS terrorist about to behead an innocent person, a consuming fire rained down from the sky and took him out. Nor would it be worth mentioning such a rare (if ever) occurrence, one that (even in less spectacular form) virtually no believer will never have to be equipped to handle. </div><div><br /></div><div>At the (always real) risk of pulling verses out of context, let us add two others to the discussion:
<blockquote>For it is impossible for those who were once enlightened, and have tasted the heavenly gift, and have become partakers of the Holy Spirit, (Heb 6:4, NKJV)</blockquote>
<blockquote>But if he refuses even to hear the church, let him be to you like a heathen and a tax collector.
(Matt 18:17b, NKJV)</blockquote>
Adding these along with our difficult passage from 1 John, I personally arrive at somewhat unsatisfying (as in, I’m not confident I’m right, but it’s the best I got) view that “sin leading to death” refers to someone who, after our best intentions and fervent prayer over an extended period, appears to be absolutely unmovable, unrepentant, and unashamed in regard to their sin. In other words, we are literally instructed to (in extreme cases) give up on some, in regard to our finite prayer budget. </div><div><br /></div><div>In simpler terms, “sin leading unto death” is synonymous with the condition leading not to reconciliation, but excommunication, at which point we stop praying for the person. (It sounds wrong, but I think it just might be right.) </div><div><br /></div><div>This does not mean that we do not give them food, water, clothing, shelter, etc. if they have the need. I think it means what excommunication means, that they are not entitled to the benefits of members of the body including prayer. In crude terms, they had their chance, in fact many, many chances, and they blew it. (We would not withhold prayer regarding those for whom we have reason to hope may some day join. They have not been excommunicated.) </div><div><br /></div><div>It is a judgment call, as excommunication always is, and we may get it wrong, but it is nevertheless a difficult duty we are instructed to perform and a frightening assessment we are called to perform. Of course, such a person, though dead to us, can be resurrected by God without our help and in spite of our failings. And we can take comfort that God will present such a person to be welcomed back to the body.</div><div><br /></div><div>But for the love of all that is holy, the conscious decision to withhold prayer and its cousin (excommunication) are to be done ever so sparingly. </div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-86687217757699331712021-05-27T10:21:00.000-04:002021-05-27T10:21:27.092-04:00Paul at Lystra, where there's a first time for everythingPaul’s (and Barnabas’) first missionary journey is one eventful stop after another. But the most interesting (or at least the most unique) stop may have been in Lystra in Asia Minor (modern day Turkey). Lystra is also (many speculate) the hometown of Timothy. There, in Lystra, Paul (well not really Paul, but you know what I mean) heals a lame man. This was a <i>seriously</i> lame man, as we see from the somewhat redundant description of his condition:
<blockquote>And in Lystra a certain man without strength in his feet was sitting, a cripple from his mother’s womb, who had never walked. (Acts 14:8, NKJV)</blockquote>
So far, so good. But things are about to go squirrely. After the miracle is observed by the natives, they expressed their marvel in their native language, which neither Paul nor Barnabas understood:
<blockquote><sup>11</sup> Now when the people saw what Paul had done, they raised their voices, saying in the Lycaonian language, “The gods have come down to us in the likeness of men!” <sup>12</sup> And Barnabas they called Zeus, and Paul, Hermes, because he was the chief speaker. (Acts 14:11-12, NKJV)
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We surmise the missionaries lack of understanding of the Lycaonian dialect by the fact that they did not object to being identified as Greek gods. <div><br /></div><div>So we have good news and we have bad news. The good news is that Paul and Barnabas started a revival! The bad news is that it was in the wrong religion. </div><div><br /></div><div> Only later, when they surmised that plans were being made for an unholy and idolatrous sacrifice (to them!) did Paul and Barnabas realize what was happening, and of course they then objected strenuously:
<blockquote><sup>14</sup> But when the apostles Barnabas and Paul heard this, they tore their clothes and ran in among the multitude, crying out <sup>15</sup> and saying, “Men, why are you doing these things? We also are men with the same nature as you, and preach to you that you should turn from these useless things to the living God, who made the heaven, the earth, the sea, and all things that are in them, <sup>16</sup> who in bygone generations allowed all nations to walk in their own ways. <sup>17</sup> Nevertheless He did not leave Himself without witness, in that He did good, gave us rain from heaven and fruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and gladness.” <sup>18</sup> And with these sayings they could scarcely restrain the multitudes from sacrificing to them. (Acts 14:14-18, NKJV)</blockquote>
Luke refers to Paul and Barnabas as <i>apostles</i> in v14. A factoid: this is the only place in <i>Acts</i> where Luke uses that title for either of the men. </div><div><br /></div><div>Apart from being mistaken for human manifestations of Greek gods, what is interesting is the “sermon” Paul preaches in verses 15-17. This is Paul, the master of being all things to all people, morphing to fit his audience. On previous stops in their trek, the audience (found at synagogues) was knowledgeable about the God of Israel and Old Testament prophecy. (Even the Gentile listeners, who were typically “God Fearers”.) Not so here; this rambunctious crowd was purely pagan. In fact, this is the first time Paul preaches to a purely pagan gathering, with the only other recorded occurrence being his preaching at the Areopagus (Acts 17). </div><div><br /></div><div>Paul has a simple message, appropriate for a crowd of pagans, namely that they should turn from useless and dead idols to the living God, who cared for them even when they knew him not. </div><div><br /></div><div>And if Paul then launched into a deep academic discussion of metaphysics and epistemology, and using such philosophical tools went on to derive (through infallibe extrapolation) strict divine aseity, immutability, impeccability, and impassibility, well for some reason it was not recorded by Luke.
</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-60701946299897763622021-05-19T14:57:00.002-04:002021-05-20T18:14:49.126-04:00Hey Paul, while you're here, can you do us a favor?There are some passages of scripture that for many of us are indirect testimonies to its trustworthiness simply by their presence. While not an actual proof of anything, we read something and (properly) comfort ourselves that if this were all fiction, who would have thought to include this particular account? For me there are many examples of this, and the one I’ll discuss today is the arrival of Paul in Jerusalem with a gift from the Gentile churches, as described by Luke in Acts 21:
<blockquote><sup>17</sup> And when we had come to Jerusalem, the brethren received us gladly. <sup>18</sup> On the following day Paul went in with us to James, and all the elders were present. <sup>19</sup> When he had greeted them, he told in detail those things which God had done among the Gentiles through his ministry. <sup>20</sup> And when they heard it, they glorified the Lord. And they said to him, “You see, brother, how many myriads of Jews there are who have believed, and they are all zealous for the law; <sup>21</sup> but they have been informed about you that you teach all the Jews who are among the Gentiles to forsake Moses, saying that they ought not to circumcise their children nor to walk according to the customs. <sup>22</sup> What then? The assembly must certainly meet, for they will hear that you have come. <sup>23</sup> Therefore do what we tell you: We have four men who have taken a vow. <sup>24</sup> Take them and be purified with them, and pay their expenses so that they may shave their heads, and that all may know that those things of which they were informed concerning you are nothing, but that you yourself also walk orderly and keep the law. (Acts 21:17-24, NKJV)</blockquote>
First, allow me to point out something that I overlooked the first <i>N</i> times I read this. The brethren received Paul and his entourage gladly (v17), and <i>the next day</i> (v18) James (the brother of Jesus) and the elders (whoever they were) were called upon. They are (what I always missed) two distinct groups. Of course James and the elders also received Paul warmly, although they are unwittingly about to give him some nearly fatal advice.
<p>
There were scurrilous rumors circulating that Paul was teaching the Jewish converts to turn away from Moses and the national customs. At some level this was true, and at some level it wasn’t. Paul <i>never</i> forbid the practice of circumcision or Jewish customs, he <i>denied the necessity</i> thereof. He was quite happy to leave their practice to one’s conscience. And he in fact was quite willing, as we see here, to follow Jewish customs when among Jews (and Gentile customs when among Gentiles.) For the sake of the gospel, he was all things to all people, a lesson today’s legalists, including those found among the uber-reformed, have largely forgotten or willfully ignore.
</p><p>
So that James and the elders could avoid the embarrassment of having to defend him to the outraged Jews, and to demonstrate that he was not forbidding circumcision or the practice of customs, Paul readily agreed to their dog and pony show. He would partake in a very public and very Jewish custom of ritual purification, and even to pay the fees for four other men requiring purification, an act of charity that was considered especially pious and praiseworthy.
</p><p>
It all backfired, of course, when a riot broke out because certain Asian (as in from Ephesus, not Viet Nam) Jews, likely there for the feast of Pentecost, and possibly harboring resentment for Paul’s successful evangelistic activities in their homeland, created a fake-news bulletin that Paul had committed an act that was unspeakable (for the Jews it was a capital offense, to me it wouldn’t seem so bad), namely that he had escorted a Gentile member of his entourage into the inner courts of the temple. Luke tells us:</p><blockquote>the Jews from Asia, seeing him in the temple, stirred up the whole crowd and laid hands on him, <sup>28</sup> crying out, “Men of Israel, help! This is the man who teaches all men everywhere against the people, the law, and this place; and furthermore he also brought Greeks into the temple and has defiled this holy place.” <sup>29</sup> (For they had previously seen Trophimus the Ephesian with him in the city, whom they supposed that Paul had brought into the temple.) <sup>30</sup> And all the city was disturbed; and the people ran together, seized Paul, and dragged him out of the temple; and immediately the doors were shut. (Acts 21:27b-30, NKJV)
</blockquote>
Paul is rescued from injury (or death) by the Romans, all of which will lead to a fascinating set of legal battles for Paul. But if you are left wondering <i>why</i> this happened, some (I buy this, I think) have pointed to the end of v30:
<blockquote>immediately the [temple] doors were shut.</blockquote>
Paul had done nothing wrong, and yet the temple was now closed to him, and by (symbolic) extension closed to all Jewish Christians. A further indication that the providential grace period wherein Christianity hid in safety behind a thin veneer of being mislabelled as a “misguided Jewish sect” was coming to an end. Christianity would soon have to stand on its own.
<p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-24235180577191260312021-05-18T08:38:00.001-04:002021-05-18T08:38:45.154-04:00Scripture and Josephus agree on Agrippa's fatal intestinal problemThe first wave of persecution <sup>[1]</sup> against the early Christians ended when its chief prosecutor was converted on the road to Damascus. After that there was a period of relative peace and calm towards the Christians that, I believe, was due in large part to their being viewed as an oddball sect of Judaism. They may be crazies, but they’re <i>our</i> crazies, so they were tolerated. Now Stephen had recognized that Christianity was <i>not</i> merely a misguided sect of Judaism, as did Saul, but in large part this does not appear to have been the case.
<p>
Providentially speaking, this inability to see Christianity as wholly different from Judaism provided protection for the early Jewish Christians, giving them a chance to reach a critical mass. But that could not continue indefinitely, and the façade began to crumble when the church began welcoming uncircumcised Gentiles, not as second class “God fearers”, but as equals, a movement begun by Peter who under divine command baptized the Gentile household of Cornelius. This acceptance of the Gentiles cost the church much favor among the Jews, and this shifting of sentiments made it politically possible for the right ruler to launch a new wave of persecution.
</p><p>
The man for the job was Herod Agrippa, grandson of Herod the Great.
</p><p>
First, he beheaded James, son of Zebedee. Seeing that the Jews found this acceptable (Acts 12:3) Agrippa then cast his eyes upon Peter and had him arrested, most likely with the intent of putting him to the sword as well. But as we know, Peter’s work was not yet done, and God engineered a miraculous liberation of his incarceration.
</p><p>
Agrippa was not pleased. But Peter’s escape was actually the least of his problems. Not long afterwards we read of his fate:
</p><p>
</p><blockquote><sup>20</sup> Now [Agrippa] was very angry with the people of Tyre and Sidon; and with one mind they came to him, and having won over Blastus the king’s chamberlain, they were asking for peace, because their country was supported with grain from the king’s country. <sup>21</sup> On an appointed day, after putting on his royal apparel, Herod took his seat on the rostrum and began delivering an address to them. <sup>22</sup> The people repeatedly cried out, “The voice of a god and not of a man!” <sup>23</sup> And immediately an angel of the Lord struck him because he did not give God the glory, and he was eaten by worms and died. (Acts 12:20-23)</blockquote>
<p>
Becqause of ill-advised actions unknown to us, the people of Tyre and Sidon had bitten the hand that fed them. Realizing their mistake, they attempted to ingratiate themselves to their meal ticket by proclaiming him a deity. It would seem that Agrippa’s fatal error was that he accepted their worship.
</p><p>
What is interesting here is the independent corroboration of this story by the great contemporary historian Josephus, who wrote of a visit to Caesarea by Agrippa:
</p><p>
</p><blockquote>[Agrippa came to the Cæsarea] and there he exhibited shows in honor of Cæsar, upon his being informed that there was a certain festival celebrated to make vows for his safety. At which festival a great multitude was gotten together of the principal persons, and such as were of dignity through his province. On the second day of which shows he put on a garment made wholly of silver, and of a contexture truly wonderful, and came into the theater early in the morning; at which time the silver of his garment being illuminated by the fresh reflection of the sun's rays upon it, shone out after a surprising manner, and was so resplendent as to spread a horror over those that looked intently upon him; and presently his flatterers cried out, one from one place, and another from another, [though not for his good,] that he was a god; and they added, "Be thou merciful to us; for although we have hitherto reverenced thee only as a man, yet shall we henceforth own thee as superior to mortal nature." <b>Upon this the king did neither rebuke them, nor reject their impious flattery. </b>But as he presently afterward looked up, he saw an owl sitting on a certain rope over his head, and immediately understood that this bird was the messenger of ill tidings, as it had once been the messenger of good tidings to him; and fell into the deepest sorrow. A severe pain also arose in his belly, and began in a most violent manner. He therefore looked upon his friends, and said, "I, whom you call a god, am commanded presently to depart this life; while Providence thus reproves the lying words you just now said to me; and I, who was by you called immortal, am immediately to be hurried away by death. But I am bound to accept of what Providence allots, as it pleases God; for we have by no means lived ill, but in a splendid and happy manner." When he said this, his pain was become violent. Accordingly he was carried into the palace, and the rumor went abroad every where, that he would certainly die in a little time. But the multitude presently sat in sackcloth, with their wives and children, after the law of their country, and besought God for the king's recovery. All places were also full of mourning and lamentation. Now the king rested in a high chamber, and as he saw them below lying prostrate on the ground, he could not himself forbear weeping. And when he had been quite worn out by the pain in his belly for five days, he departed this life, being in the fifty-fourth year of his age (Joseohus, Antiquities, 19.8)</blockquote>
<p>
The two accounts are quite similar with no real conflict. Perhaps the intestinal pain was due to a parasite (worms). Who knows?
</p><hr />
<sup>[1]</sup> It was relatively mild stuff like death by stoning. Nothing like the Great Persecution of 2020-2021, where Christians had to obey public health regulations that applied equally to other assemblies.
<p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-656868073781915812021-05-11T09:52:00.007-04:002021-05-11T10:01:46.415-04:00Saul's Conversion (with conflicts!)<p></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: inherit;"> <b><sup><span style="background-color: white;">3 </span></sup></b><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">Now as he was traveling, it happened that he was approaching Damascus, and suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him; <b><sup>4 </sup></b>and he fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?” <b><sup>5 </sup></b>And he said, “Who are You, Lord?” And He <i>said</i>, “I am Jesus whom you are persecuting, <b><sup>6 </sup></b>but get up and enter the city, and it will be told to you what you must do.” <b><sup>7 </sup></b>The men who traveled with him stood speechless, hearing the voice but seeing no one. (Acts 9:3-7, NASB)</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span></span></blockquote><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If I never knew what Calvinism was, then reading the account of Paul’s conversion would have led me inexorably to some primordial form.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Paul was not seeking the Lord.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Paul was not being divinely wooed to come to Christ.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Paul was not being proselytized.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">No, Paul experienced literally what most of us experience metaphorically: We are knocked to the ground; we are dragged and compelled. Any feeling that we had something to do with our conversion is simply an attempt at after-the-fact rationalization. It's illusory. It's our effort to drape a worldly context on what amounts to a supernatural intervention, a miracle if you will. We contribute naught but our sin.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the case at hand, the utterance of the Lord begins with the object's name repeated: <i>Saul, Saul.</i> This is a common feature when God deigns to speak audibly to a creature. Saul recognizes the divine authority of the voice but not the specifics, as he asks: “Who are you, Lord?” He received an answer that he could not have possibly expected (or wanted). We would all love to hear the first part: “I am Jesus.” We would rather not have to hear the rest: “whom you are persecuting.” Yikes. I'd be expecting something unpleasant at that point. But then again, this is Jesus we are talking about.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The account does not tell us that Saul <i>saw</i> Jesus. That's not a conflict, just a factoid. That particular detail is added later, first by Ananias in 9:17, and then by Barnabas in 9:17, and again later by Paul’s retelling (e.g., 1 Cor 9:1). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There <i>are</i> some conflicts perhaps worth mentioning. In 9:7 we are told a) Saul’s companions <b>stood</b> speechless and b) <b>they heard</b> the voice. The first is superficially in conflict with Paul’s retelling in Acts 26:14</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: inherit;">And when <b>we all </b>had fallen to the ground, I heard a voice speaking to me </span></blockquote><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The second is in apparent conflict with, again, Paul’s own words, this time from Acts 22:9</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">And those who were with me indeed saw the light </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">and were afraid, <b>but they did not hear </b>the voice of Him who spoke to me.</span></span></blockquote><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The first conflict is usually explained by the possibility that while Saul remained on the ground his companions, somewhat stunned by the light, went to the ground, but not being the target of the act of divine sovereignty were less affected, and so they quickly recovered and got up. So they were sort of down and not down (<span style="background-color: white; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Schrödinger</span> companions.) That is, by the time we get to v7 of the primary account, the companions have already stood up.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The second conflict is often explained away with the argument that the companions heard <i>something</i> but unlike Saul what reached their ears was not discernable, it was just thunderous noise.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That works for me. These are not important (apparent) discrepancies.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-64027473209159028642021-05-06T15:13:00.005-04:002021-05-06T15:19:17.093-04:00How could they see and not believe?We often ask the question: how could those ancient people witness the miracles of Jesus and not believe? It seems incomprehensible. <div><br /></div><div>It is incomprehensible for good reason. Because they <i>did</i> believe. But their belief was not a faith reckoned to them as righteousness.
We see this in several passages. Most clearly, I would say, at the end of John 2:</div><div><blockquote><sup>23</sup> Now when He was in Jerusalem at the Passover, during the feast, many believed in His name when they saw the signs which He did. <sup>24</sup> But Jesus did not commit Himself to them, because He knew all men, <sup>25</sup> and had no need that anyone should testify of man, for He knew what was in man. (John 2:23-25, NKJV)</blockquote>
Here we have a group who are observing Jesus’ wonderous signs, and scripture does not tell us “and amazingly they did not believe! Nope, they believed, but it was not the right kind of belief. </div><div><br /></div><div>The text doesn’t say how they were deficient, but I’m willing to speculate they merely had an intellectual assent that Jesus was a sort of holy man or prophet capable of miracles. Maybe at the level of Moses or Elijah. But <i>not</i> the Son of God who came to die and take away the sins of the world. Like Nicodemus, they knew <i>something</i>, but they were not (at least yet) born again.
Jesus did not commit himself to them. At least at that time. </div><div><br /></div><div>We also see this in Simon the Magician of Acts 8, who (seeing wonderous deeds done in Samaria in the name of Jesus) <i>believed</i> and was even baptized, only later to be excommunicated. He believed, but he didn’t understand. </div><div><br /></div><div>We even see the same pattern with his close disciples. In Mark 8, Jesus reminds them that they had witnessed the miraculous feeding of thousands, but yet he felt compelled to ask: “How is it that you do not understand?” They had seen. They believed. But they did not understand. And Jesus did not commit himself to them. That is, until they did (imperfectly) understood, when Peter, speaking for the group, answers the direct question with “you are the Christ.”
<i>Then</i> they believed <i>and</i> (somewhat) understood, and only then did Jesus commit himself and reveal the greatest mystery, that he must suffer and die. </div><div><br /></div><div>So when a skeptic says that he would believe if God rearranged the stars to spell out “Hello World!” in ten languages, he is telling the truth. He would believe, but it wouldn’t be enough.</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-91455881718557648962021-05-03T12:44:00.002-04:002021-05-03T12:58:05.790-04:00Peter before Paul: the small p pentecost of the Gentiles<p>Paul is the "apostle to the Gentiles" but it was Peter who blazed the trail. While Paul was, as far as we know, languishing in obscurity back in Tarsus, Peter had the privilege of leading a second Pentecost of sorts, this time to the Gentiles. Let's call it the small-p pentecost: </p><div><sup></sup><blockquote><sup>44</sup> While Peter was still speaking these words, the Holy Spirit fell upon all those who heard the word. <sup>45</sup> And those of the circumcision who believed were astonished, as many as came with Peter, because the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out on the Gentiles also. <sup>46</sup> For they heard them speak with tongues and magnify God. Then Peter answered, <sup>47</sup> “Can anyone forbid water, that these should not be baptized who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?” <sup>48</sup> And he commanded them to be baptized in the name of the Lord. Then they asked him to stay a few days. (Acts 10:44-48, NKJV) </blockquote></div><div>If we compare this to <i>the</i> Pentecost, we find something interesting: a different ordering of events. Of <i>the</i> Pentecost of Jews in Jerusalem we read: </div><div><blockquote><sup>38</sup> Then Peter said to them, “Repent, and let every one of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. <sup>39</sup> For the promise is to you and to your children, and to all who are afar off, as many as the Lord our God will call.” (Acts 2:38-39, NKJV) </blockquote></div><div>So the ordering for those in attendance in Jerusalem at the official launch of the New Testament church was: 1) repent 2) receive water baptism, and only then 3) receive the Holy Spirit.
The pentecost of the Gentiles was much more like the pregame-pentecost of the apostles themselves, with the Holy Spirit leading the show, complete with visible supernatural manifestations: </div><div><blockquote><sup>1</sup>When the Day of Pentecost had fully come, they were all with one accord in one place. <sup>2</sup> And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting. <sup>3</sup> Then there appeared to them divided tongues, as of fire, and one sat upon each of them. <sup>4</sup> And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance. (Acts 2:1-4, NKJV) </blockquote></div><div>In both cases, visible manifestations of the Spirit play an important role. In <i>the</i> Pentecost it certainly made Peter’s sermon more effective and the listeners more attentive. <sup>[1]</sup>
And in the pentecost for the Gentiles it made it quite clear to the Jewish witnesses that the unthinkable had happened, the Spirit of God had indeed descended upon the race about whom association was more or less forbidden, just as it had on the chosen race. <sup>[2]</sup> Their world changed in an instant, and without the supernatural expressions they quite possibly would not have taken Peter at his word that the conversion of the Gentiles was real, and Peter’s later defense in Jerusalem would have been much more likely to fail. </div><div><br /></div><div>Instead, Peter asks if anyone can find a reason why baptism should not be permitted, and nothing but crickets could offer an answer. </div><div><br /></div><div>Of course, in many modern evangelical churches none these baptisms, either at Pentecost or the Gentile pentecost would be accepted as valid. The apostles (bad Peter, bad Paul! ) had a terrible habit of baptizing in the name of Jesus, rather than in the name of the triune God. And many modern evangelical churches understand that unless you say it in a prescribed manner, like a chant or incantation, God has to sit on his hands. He cannot dispense sacramental grace unless we humans say the right words to free his hands. We are so important!</div><div><br />
<hr />
<sup>[1]</sup> Read Peter's sermon, arguably the most inportant sermon offered by a human in history. It doesn't take 45 minutes. Modern sermons are too long. Pastors: we love you but there is much zoning out in the pews. Less is more. Redirect some of that sermon time to what is often missing: fellowship. </div><div><br /></div><div><sup>[2]</sup> We understandably tend to dwell on the effect of this event on the Gentiles, but really just as important was the effect on the Jews.
</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-61002594843373283942021-05-01T10:39:00.003-04:002021-05-01T10:42:55.272-04:00There is no call to Christian Jihad<blockquote>Then He said to them, “But now, he who has a money bag, let him take it, and likewise a knapsack; and he who has no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one. (Luke 22:36, NKJV) </blockquote><div>In my opinion <sup>†</sup> it is easier to understand what this passage isn’t whether than what it is. What it is <i>not</i> is a call to violence or a call to armed rebellion. </div><div><br /></div><div>Look at the response of the disciples and Jesus’ telling retort: </div><div></div><blockquote><div>So they said, “Lord, look, here are two swords. And He said to them, “It is enough.” (Luke 22:38, NKJV) </div></blockquote><div>Jesus’ response “It is enough” has been taken two ways. The first that two swords will suffice, the second (more probable I would say <sup>†</sup>) is that the disciples' <i>unthinking banter</i> is enough, because they had missed the boat on what he was saying, which was not meant to be taken literally. </div><div><br /></div><div>In either case, the interpretation that this is a divine call to violence or arms is on shaky ground. The disciples have, in their armory, two swords. Two! That is nowhere near enough to stand against any force that could be and would be arrayed against them. If Jesus’ “It is enough” means that two swords would suffice militarily against their future foes, he must have envisioned a war against a small, pacifist cub-scout troop. The disciples, a ragtag group of militarily untrained laborers, with a total of two swords, would not scare or resist anyone. (At least not with their literal <i>metal</i> swords. Their non-literal two-edged swords would turn out to be very effective.)</div><div><br /></div><div>The nail in the coffin of the view that Jesus authorizes some sort of Christian jihad comes just hours later at the time of His arrest, when a sword (very likely one of these two swords) was put into action. Jesus instructs the sword to be put away and heals the injury it caused. </div><div><br /></div><div>Jesus’ “It is enough” response is better understood as a somewhat reluctant acknowledgment that they had altogether missed the meaning of his word picture. </div><div><br /></div><div>Perhaps Jesus was telling his disciples something like this: <sup>†</sup> </div><div><br /></div><div><i>Remember earlier in my ministry when I sent you out to the towns, and told you to take no food, no money, no anything? That was in recognition of the fact that while you would not be universally welcomed, you be welcomed by more than enough who would be happy to meet your needs. But those days are about to end. Now you will be unwelcome everywhere, and you need to be prepared to meet your own needs. </i></div><div><br /></div><div>We see this, I believe, in the verse in between the two I already quoted: </div><div><blockquote>For I say to you that this which is written must still be [accomplished in Me: ‘And He was numbered with the transgressors.’ For the things concerning Me have an end.” (Luke 22:37, NKJV) </blockquote></div><div>He will be numbered with the transgressors. Those who share a cross with him at Calvary, and those who carry on his ministry.</div><div><hr />
<sup>†</sup> Everything in this blog related to theology is "in my opinion" only. Don’t trust anything I write.
</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-39028797431758022372021-04-27T17:36:00.001-04:002021-04-27T18:01:39.325-04:00Let the dead bury the dead?<p><br /></p><blockquote>
Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and preach the kingdom of God.” (Luke 9:70, NKJV) </blockquote><div><br /></div><div>At first blush, this is not a particularly easy saying. </div><div><br /></div><div>Jesus had just spoken to the man, telling him to “follow me.” The man is agreeable to the proposition, with every indication sincerely so. However, he makes what appears to be a reasonable request, which both honors his parents as the commandment requires and is consistent with Jewish cultural practices: <i>first</i> he would bury his recently dead father and <i>then</i> he would gladly join Jesus as a disciple. </div><div><br /></div><div>Jesus rejects this request. Why? </div><div><br /></div><div>There have been many explanations designed to soften Jesus’ meaning, most along the lines that Jesus actually meant something like “there are professional undertakers—let them handle that dirty job” </div><div><br /></div><div>I don’t think so. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think it has exactly its seemingly hard meaning: <i>Let those who are (spiritually) dead bury those who are truly dead. </i></div><div><br /></div><div>Note it is no reflection on the man’s father, who may have been saved. We don’t know. But it is a reflection on who should handle this particular burial. Those who have no business in a matter at hand, a matter of extreme urgency. The <i>kingdom</i> is at hand. </div><div><br /></div><div>Jesus is not giving us a prescription for all time, that from this point forward the burial of dead parents is to be considered a trivial matter, best left to infidels. No, Jesus is saying this: <i>my ministry is entering a phase of cosmic importance and under these unique circumstances it is best to delegate that task and follow me.</i> </div><div><br /></div><div>We can see this in the context of this statement.
Earlier in the same chapter Jesus elicits from Peter the great confession whereby Peter acknowledges that Jesus is the Christ. And then he “springs” on His followers the great surprise and shocker that though he is the Messiah he is not the one they are expecting—He is going to die, and die soon, without achieving any political victory. In the parallel passage in Mark, Peter is severely rebuked for boldly telling Jesus that such a tragedy will not occur on his watch. To top it off, Jesus tells them that they likely face a similar fate, and they will have to pick up their cross and walk their own death-walk to complete their role in inaugurating the kingdom. </div><div><br /></div><div>The kids' stuff is over; it is time for the big boys to come out and play.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is the context in which Jesus tells the man to allow the dead to bury his father. All of redemptive history is about to reach its apex. There are more important tasks at hand than to bury this father—in fact the man is given a chance to participate in something that, if successful, is the only way for the man to have any hope that someday his dead father would not remain dead, he would be raised.
</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-11524764776643199032021-04-06T09:17:00.001-04:002021-04-06T09:17:33.085-04:00Pastors: training people for baptism is not in your job jar<p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Pastors worry about whether or not a person requesting baptism is ready. They shouldn’t.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Scripture does not tell you to train extensively those seeking baptism. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Scripture does not hold you responsible for “mistakenly” baptizing unbelievers. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If you want to worry about something, you should worry about <i>declining</i> to baptize a believer who doesn’t measure up to your standards! I’d seriously worry about answering to that mistake before God.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Despite it being assumed without question (as “common sense”), there are no data indicating that your accuracy rate (which is unknowable anyway) is improved by requiring extensive training prior to baptism. You actually have no way of discerning whether someone is a believer or an imposter, at least not with any certainty.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There are no data that indicate the dreaded “false assurance rate” is better (i.e. reduced) if you train longer. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Bad” baptisms, such as we find in scripture (Simon the Magician, presumably the adulterer in Corinth, etc.) are <i>not </i>held up as examples as to how we must be more discerning in whom we baptize. The message is much more along the lines of: “Okay, time to move on.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Think about this sobering truth: <i>Most modern evangelical churches would not perform any of the baptisms in the New Testament. </i>In all the scriptural examples we have, all that was required was a simple statement of belief that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and He is the source of salvation. Churches I have been a member of would not have (in the same timely manner) baptized the Ethiopian eunuch, Lydia and her family, the Philippian jailer and his family, the multitudes at Pentecost or any of the other baptisms described in Acts, because those receiving baptism had not been thoroughly trained and tested. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">On this matter, pastors and elders need to get over themselves. You job is to teach and shepherd (don’t forget to shepherd-- you guys often neglect the shepherding) and to baptize those professing simple belief who seek baptism. Your job is not and never has been (as far as scripture is concerned) to do the impossible, i.e., determine the <i>sincerity </i>of their profession. Your job is not and never has been (as far as scripture is concerned) to impose a standard on the level of theological knowledge possessed prior to being baptized. Are you so self-centered that you imagine that the weight is on your shoulders? It’s not. Thankfully God did not deem to give you that responsibility, and yet you act as if he did. The weight of a bad baptism is squarely on those seeking baptism, not on those administering it.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-89990790691579320602021-04-02T14:36:00.009-04:002021-04-02T14:42:34.720-04:00The Fall was a Good Thing<p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">The Fall was a good thing. Such is the demonstrable conclusion based on two facts that any Christian should accept, viz., </span></p><p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">1. God is sovereign. </span></p><p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">2. It's that wonderful (yet most insensitively quoted) verse in all of scripture, Romans 8:28.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b></b></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><b>Congregant:</b> The tornado destroyed my home, my car, my begonias, and Aunt Ethyl appears not to be in Kansas anymore.<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><b>Pastor: V</b>ery sorry that happened, but don’t forget: <span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">All things work together for good to those who love God…</span></i></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">The Sovereignty of God finds a good expression in the great Protestant confessions, e.g. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 10.5pt;"></span></p><blockquote>God from all eternity did, by the most wise and holy counsel of his own will, freely and unchangeably ordain whatsoever comes to pass yet so as thereby neither is God the author of sin nor is violence offered to the will of the creatures, nor is the liberty or contingency of second causes taken away, but rather established. (WCF 3.1)</blockquote><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Some (like one out of the five who read this blog) may be surprised to see me quote a capital C Confession, but in truth I love them. I am just appaled when people forget they are fallible. Or when they outrageously extrapolate from them, as in claiming that the confession’s statement that God is without “passions” (which nobody would dispute) implies anything remotely like the modern monstrosity that is taught involving extreme views on Impassibility, Immutability, Impeccability, and Simplicity. Views that render God as a Star-Trek-like impersonal and stoic universal life force, and bestows upon the Holy Spirit, for the gazillion times he inspired writings attributing emotions to God, the title of “incompetent inspirer of the Word.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">But I digress.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">WCF 3.1 is one of the (in my opinion) minority paragraphs in the confession where the proof texts are actually satisfying. But you can judge for yourself. It tells us of course that nothing happens outside of God’s purview; at a bare minimum he at least <i>permits</i> everything that happens to happen, even if (as is often the case) he doesn’t condone or endorse it. He certainly allows us to sin, but the sin is on us. There is a tension here, a tension not free of mystery. If you take <i>ordain</i> to be a precise synonym of <i>decree</i>, then it becomes difficult to attribute moral culpability. “Ordain” is something slightly weaker and more nuanced than “And God Said…” decrees, something allowing for moral free agency and yet not so weak that there is a possibility that any of God’s plans or promises could be thwarted.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">God is not a puppet master, and yet what he ordains happens. It is actually quite awesome.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I once heard RC Sproul talk about the four permutations (with repeats) of Good and Bad as it relates to evil. From highly fallible memory:</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>Good-Good</li><li>Bad-Good</li><li>Bad-Bad</li><li>Good-Bad</li></ol><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b>Good-Good </b>is unavailable to fallen humans. It is untainted good done for a good purpose. It is the domain of God.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b>Bad Good</b> is possible for humans. Humans can do good, but the motives are always tainted by our selfishness and self-aggrandizement.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b>Bad-Bad </b>is what it sounds like. Evil stuff done for evil purposes. This is something that <i>we</i> can do but God <i>can’t</i>, but of course nobody should take any comfort in that.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b>Good-Bad</b> is, somewhat surprising, also in God’s hands. The classic example is that of Joseph and his brothers. But the Fall is also an example. The sin precipitating the Fall was <i>bad</i>, but God used it for <i>good</i>. How else <i>could</i> God use it?</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">The Fall was good. QED.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">If the Fall was good, can we conclude it was necessary? Probably. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">And if it was necessary, <i>why</i> was it necessary?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Nobody can answer that, at least on this side of glory. And if they do, make sure you get them to admit that are engaging in speculation—which is fine as long as it is acknowledged as such.<o:p></o:p></p>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-62184508452572857972021-02-14T14:01:00.005-05:002021-02-14T14:04:36.809-05:00Don't avoid the appearance of evil. You may miss out.<p> <span style="font-family: inherit;">The KJV does a terrible job when translating 1Th 5:22, rendering it:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"></span></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: inherit;">Abstain from all appearance of evil (1Th 5:22, KJV)</span></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is so bad, virtually every other translation, even the NKJV, corrects the mistake and renders the verse something like:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"></span></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">Abstain from every form of evil. </span><o:p></o:p></span><span style="background-color: white;">(1Th 5:22, NKJV)</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The King James Version is so ingrained in our cultural psyche, that many probably assume that’s what they would find if they opened their bible, independent of the translation. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The KJV rendering has the aroma of greater piety. After all, it must be that encouraging the believer to avoid even the appearance of evil is an upgrade over </span>mererly<span style="font-family: inherit;"> avoiding actual evil, is it not? In math we would say it’s a super set. If the set is good, the super set has to be an improvement.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Not so. We have to remember that the bible also warns against calling what is calling good, evil. And that is the risk that inheres with the </span>overzealous application of the erroneous<span style="font-family: inherit;"> KJV version.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This usually shows up when a man, typically a pastor, refuses to be alone, either professionally or socially (innocently), with a woman who is not his wife. If they were to be seen having a coffee together, it would be scandalous! It is </span>somewhat<span style="font-family: inherit;"> admirable, and perhaps justified on practical, legal, and safety considerations, but it is not biblical. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The bottom line is that </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">any</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> two people who are alone can engage in evil, regardless of their sexes. If you are a Christian and certain situations are too much of a temptation, avoid them. If they are not, and if something good and productive can come from it, such as much needed </span>shepherding or theological clarification or just helpful listening (in either or both directions)<span style="font-family: inherit;">, there is no need for avoidance. To do so is to deny the truth that he who is in you is stronger than he who is in the world.</span></p>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-6938932310169255662021-01-21T17:37:00.006-05:002021-01-21T17:42:01.655-05:00Why the Transfiguration?<p>The Transfiguration is a mysterious event. It sort of just pops out of nowhere, suddenly and unanticipated. </p><div>Usually it is discussed in terms of <i>what</i>. That is, we get descriptions of the bursting forth Christ’s glory, which up to then was, in some mysterious way, contained (at least metaphorically) by his human form. Suddenly his glory is displayed in all its radiant brilliance (at least all that Peter, John, and James could bear), an <i>emitted</i> brilliance that must have been infinitely more spectacular than the “mere” <i>reflected</i> glory that was displayed by Moses. I cannot resist the obvious SAT analogy: </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Jesus:Moses :: Sun:Moon </div><div><br /></div><div>At the Transfiguration we have the <i>Prophets</i>, in the person of Elijah, who was taken up, but now with his feet back on <i>terra firma</i>. And we have the <i>Law</i>, in the person and Moses, who after a rather lengthy delay is finally kicking dust in the Holy Land. And we have the voice of God signifying a paradigm shift: we are not to listen to either of these giants of the faith any longer, that is in any authoritative sense. From now on we are to listen to his Son. </div><div><br /></div><div> But why? Why the Transfiguration? For that we need some <i>medias res</i>. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Six Days Earlier </b></div><div><br /></div><div>Six days earlier we have the initiation of the long journey from the vicinity of Mt. Tabor through Samaria into Judea and finally to its terminus at Jerusalem, a journey that will climax in the death of Jesus. In Mark’s gospel we read: </div><div><blockquote>And he began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes and be killed, and after three days rise again. (Mark 8:31) </blockquote></div><div>This is the start of the end game of Jesus' ministry. In my opinion, the primary <i>why</i> of the Transfiguration is not to show the three disciples a glorious triumvirate of Moses, Elijah, and Jesus—although that was partly the reason—otherwise they wouldn’t be there. No, the <i>why</i> is this: Jesus, the man, needed encouragement. He was a dead man walking. He was about to experience the worst death in history. Not because it was the most painful—although we know crucifixion was brutal and horrifically agonizing, but because he would be regarded by the Father as having committed the <i>all</i> sins of all the elect, which would include innumerable quantities of the worst sins imaginable. </div><div><br /></div><div>Although I can’t find the reference, I have been told that Luther said: “no man ever feared death as much as Jesus.” If he didn't really say it-- well whoever said it was correct. And this is not questioning Jesus’ courage, it is acknowledging the unique awfulness that Jesus had to endure. </div><div><br /></div><div>The accounts of the Transfiguration tell us that at the Elijah, Moses, and Jesus were huddled together, talking. I believe what was happening, and what was the real purpose of the Transfiguration, is that Elijah and Moses, who (unlike the disciples) knew and accepted what was coming, were giving Jesus encouragement.
The Transfiguration was for Jesus’ benefit. The benefit to us is secondary.</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-90445408416838057352021-01-17T15:09:00.005-05:002021-01-17T15:23:29.387-05:00Uzzah, Ananias, and Sapphira: they were not punished<p><span style="font-family: times;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">In 2 Sam. 6, we have the famous story of Uzzah, who in doing what any of us would have done, died after touching the ark as it was about to fall while being transported, under David’s direction, to Jerusalem. In Acts 5 we have a similar although less sympathetic account of the sudden deaths of Ananias and Sapphira after they, in another “could have been any of us” slip, selfishly withheld money from the nascent church.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: times;">In neither of these stories should we, in my opinion, conclude that the dead were summarily executed as punishment for their crimes. If capital punishment were meted out for crimes such as these, the planet would have no human inhabitants. Instead what we have here is a reminder that God is an awesome God and that especially at critical moments in redemptive history (in these cases the initiations of the Davidic Kingdom and the New Testament church, respectively) he demonstrated that while he is a deeply personal God, his patience should not be abused to erroneously narrow the gap between creature and creator. He will remind us at opportune times that the moral gulf between God and mankind cannot be overestimated. Uzzah, Ananias, and Sapphira were not punished by death for their crimes; they died as a warning, and to remind <i>us</i> of <i>our</i> crimes, and specifically the crime of adopting a cavalier approach to the holiness and “otherness” of God.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: times;">I also think we diminish God when, through misplaced intellectual arrogance, we believe we can understand him more than has actually been revealed in scripture. Instead of humbly accepting that the true doctrine of God is one that our finiteness demands will necessarily contain deep mystery, we assume that our superior brains permit us to extrapolate from scripture and arrive at a highly detailed model of God for which there is no textual support. In doing so we are reducing God by declaring that he cannot be so great and so unfathomable that our philosophies cannot comprehend the nuances of his nature. We simply refuse to accept that there are mysteries beyond our intellectual reach.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: times;">Thus we take things that we know about God from scripture: that he is unchanging, that he is slow to anger, that there is a mysterious trinity, that there was a union between a true human and a true God, that Christ was truly tempted yet sinless, that the atonement for sin requires blood, that the death of Christ achieved salvation for the elect, that there are unilaterally decreed covenants between God and man, we take these and arrogantly extrapolate them into a multifaceted and totally unwarranted “Doctrine of God” that is doomed to be both incorrect and to err in the wrong direction. Because in arriving at a god that we "fully understand," we are arriving at a fictional represntation that is far less than the true God. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-29628933472908026332021-01-04T09:10:00.006-05:002021-01-04T09:13:11.724-05:00Barcellos is wrong on biblicism<p> </p>
<a href="https://reformedforhisglory.wordpress.com/2013/04/08/why-i-am-not-a-biblicist/">From this page</a>, which I assume is providing an accurate quote on the subject of "Why I am not a biblicist" and describing the horror of biblicism:
<blockquote>D.B. Riker provides a helpful definition: “biblicism is the rejection of everything not explicitly stated in the Bible, and the dismissal of all non-biblical witnesses (Fathers, Creeds, Medieval Doctors, councils, etc.)” </blockquote><blockquote>
…But here is the problem: This whole method is based upon a form of personal independence, or even self-confidence. Doesn’t it ever cross anyone’s mind that they aren’t necessarily the wisest theologian, the best exegete and most insightful commentator? Don’t they stop to think about God and His purposes? Has the Lord chosen me to know truth that has been hidden from others? Such self-confidence is really arrogance-unbridled and oftentimes evil. It misleads self and others. Is the Christian faith reduced to my conclusions? What right do I have, alone and unaided to think that my reading and study perfectly meshes with the mind of God? Jesus and me with a Bible under a tree-perhaps a romantic notion, but a dangerous and potentially damning notion. </blockquote><blockquote>
<span> </span>Richard Barcellos (ed.), The Southern California Reformed Baptist Pastors’ Conference Papers (Palmdale, CA: Reformed Baptist Academic Press, 2013), 114,119.
</blockquote>
This is a very bad, straw-man and false-dilemma argument against biblicism, unworthy of a scholar, regardless of whether or not biblicism deserves to be criticized (and some forms of it, such as hyper-literalism, do deserve criticism). It paints a picture that to be a biblicist implies that one is a rogue free agent, making uninformed willy-nilly private interpretations in the context of potentially “evil” self-confidence and arrogance, and disregarding all other voices. <div><br /></div><div>Utter nonsense. One can be a biblicist and yet rely heavily on a wealth of expert exegesis and commentary about scripture. I can claim to adhere to a strong form of <i>sola scriptura</i> (a form of biblicism) and yet readily admit that I need help understanding the majority of the biblical text.
</div><div><br /></div><div>The strongest (and strangely the most anti-intellectual) criticisms of biblicism come from those on the opposite end of the spectrum, those who are in their own manner supremely self-confident that applying Greek philosophy under the infinitely broad and malleable permission of “good and faithful consequences” (and in the process rendering "“good and faithful consequences” meaningless ) derive tomes of doctrine that the Holy Spirit somehow did not find the occasion or wherewithal to inspire, and then dub these derived doctrines as “Great Christian Truths.” </div><div><br /></div><div>To read those who think they have derived “the true doctrine of God” describe anyone as overly self-confident and arrogant is a severe case of pot-kettle-black.
<div><br /></div><div>The middle has been excluded, with malice aforethought. One can be a <i>sola scriptura </i>biblicist and still allow, in exceptional rather than common cases, new doctrine to be derived from "good and faithful consequences." </div></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-59063920391570049012020-12-28T14:46:00.003-05:002021-01-04T08:50:19.316-05:00Trinitarian Baptism<p>Baptizing in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is good practice. I’d be leery of any church that did otherwise. On the other hand, I’d also be suspicious of any church that elevates it above good practice to the level of a magical incantation, and a requirement that is not commanded by God. If your church says that only such baptisms are <i>valid</i>, your church is in serious error. <span style="font-size: 13.333333015441895px;"><sup>[1]</sup></span></p><div>In the Great Commission <sup>[2]</sup>, Jesus instructs the church to “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” (Matt 28:19). However, He does not say, “And make sure you say it <i>exactly</i> like this. Do not deviate from this wording.” It should <i>not</i> be viewed as a command for a precise script. </div><div><br /></div><div>Any proper Christian baptism is implicitly in the name of the Triune God <i>in spite of</i> whether those words are spoken rather than <i>because</i>. (And again, I believe it is good practice.) Most likely as Jesus was sending the church on its foreign mission (all nations) as it were, a good baptismal creed for those unfamiliar with this new expression of monotheism would include an introductory trinitarian reference.
</div><div><br /></div><div>This of course does not mean you can say anything you like. And you won't. Because if this is a baptism ordained by God and used by Him as a means of grace, we can expect that the Holy Spirit will play a role in ensuring the baptism is God-honoring, regardless of the exact wording. The Holy Spirit will in fact provide the wording without dictating or suppressing personality, in that mysterious Holy-Spirity way He does the the very same thing elsewhere. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyone claiming that a baptism is not valid because it did not include a certain phrase is essentially issuing a dictum to God that He is not permitted to dispense grace in this instance, whether He wants to or not, because the right words were not spoken. That is a major-league level of hutzpah. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now for those more familiar with monotheism, especially for Jews, it was perhaps more important to emphasize the deity of Christ. That may be why the earliest baptismal creed did <i>not</i> invoke the trinity, but just one person thereof:
<blockquote>Then Peter said to them, “Repent, and let every one of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.” (Acts 2:38) </blockquote><blockquote>
And [Peter] commanded them to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. (Acts 10:48) </blockquote><blockquote>
On hearing this, they were baptized [by Paul] in the name of the Lord Jesus. (Acts 19:5)</blockquote>
Did Paul and Peter violate an explicit command from the Great Commission? I submit they did not. </div><div><br /></div><div>The hip-dislocating gymnastics that one must go through to reconcile a belief that valid baptisms <i>must</i> (as opposed to “would be well served to”) include the phrase “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” with the early apostolic-era (and inspired) counter-examples found in scripture is something to behold. I will not repeat the arguments, because not one of them holds water. </div><div><br /></div><div>Every piece of theology devised and every doctrine developed runs the real risk of being guilty of claiming in effect: “God didn’t actually spell this out in scripture. He must not have had time. But <i>we</i> worked it out for him. Trust us.” For derived doctrine: less is more, and more is less. </div><div><br /></div><div>Which of course does not mean that all derived doctrine is bad, it just means we have a fallen human tendency to create more than we need and label our inventions as “Great Christian Truths.” Examine critically, and be suspicious when “good and necessary consequences” is abused as a <i>carte blanch</i> to declare a complex derived doctrine as valid and even binding.</div><div><br />"Good and necessary consequences" is a tool to be used sparingly, not liberally.</div><div> <hr />
<sup>[1]</sup> To be fair there is another camp that makes the same category error, arguing that only baptisms in the name of Jesus (i.e. without the trinitarian reference) are valid. There really is very little that theologians can not overly complicate and bind what God has loosed. <div><br /></div><div> <sup>[2]</sup> My usual rant on this matter: The Great Commission is for the Church, <i>not for individuals</i>. It is awful when it is used like this: “The Great Commission means that we all have to evangelize.” That is <i>not</i> the case. The church must evangelize, and some (but not all) in the church are gifted as evangelists. When the Great Commission is improperly applied to individuals, it creates unnecessary and harmful guilt among those not so gifted, those who can and do participate in the church’s evangelical mission using their gifts (teaching, hospitality, etc.) but who are not and should not be on the front lines. Scripture says as much (Eph. 4:11).
</div></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-37498679564244311342020-12-26T14:53:00.006-05:002020-12-26T16:17:31.348-05:00Strange Bedfellows: Covenant and Baptistic TheologyReformed and Baptistic theology are a somewhat unnatural mix. If “Reformed Baptist” is a true theology (and it might be) <sup>[1]</sup> it is a truth arrived at by a circuitous route. Because history shows that covenant theology (now virtually synonymous with "reformed") with its signature feature of an over-arching Covenant of Grace, was devised <sup>[2]</sup> for a single purpose: to defend the practice of paedobaptism. The reknowned reformed theologian <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Murray_%28theologian%29">John Murray</a> wrote: <sup>[3]</sup>
<blockquote>“The most distinctive feature of covenant theology in connection with the sacraments is the inference drawn from the nature of the covenant in support of paedobaptism.”</blockquote>
Murray also describes the two dispensations (what I would call the old and new covenants) as “generically one” (i.e., the overarching covenant of grace) and that the basic premise of paedobaptism is to preserve the unity implied by the single covenant of grace. Infant circumcision doesn't go away, it simply morphs into infant baptism. <div><br /></div><div>This is echoed by other reformed theologians, e.g. Bavinck: <sup>[4]</sup>
<blockquote>“The covenant was the sure scriptural objective ground upon which all the Reformed, together and without distinction, based the right to infant baptism. They had no other deeper or more solid ground."
</blockquote>
As an aside, Bavinck’s use of the universal “<i>all</i> the reformed” would imply that he would not even consider reformed Baptists to be reformed, which is a common view among those of a more Presbyterian slant. But who knows, and what does it matter beyond <span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>#whocaresifyouthinkimreformed </i></span>twitter fodder? <div><br /></div><div>Except it <i>is</i> relevant—in the sense that in giving up paedobaptism, and even giving up the over-arching covenant of grace in favor of a two main covenants view, reformed Baptists are jettisoning the very distinctive of at least the original if not the definitive form of covenant theology, and hence of what it meant to be <i>reformed</i>. They are left with an anemic definition of covenant theology, the virtually undisputed claim that redemptive history can be viewed through the lens of progressive covenants. <sup>[5] </sup>Their unity from the old to the new is also much weaker than classic covenant theology and is achieved almost exclusively through the assertion that the decalogue is the once-for-all eternally binding best revelation of God’s moral law. But this claim everyone knows, whether they agree or not, is not a distinctive of covenant theology. For example, most dispensationalists (although they modify it, temporarily, in the unforeseen church age) and fundamentalists would agree.
</div><div><br /></div><div>My perspective is the the reformed baptists tend to fill the void left by disavowing the <i>raison d'être</i> of reformed theology with other doctrines, many of which they share with Presbyterian covenant theologians, <sup>[6]</sup> such as (for one example of many) the Regulative Principle. They beef-up their theology (not necessarily in a bad way), but not in any manner that makes it more reformed. It just makes it <i>more</i>. And it leads to the formation of parachurch organizations, way-too-many specialized seminaries, expensive conferences, and celebrity pastors (what is Mark Dever's income?) which in a zero-sum game all come at the expense of the widows and the poor.</div><div><br /></div><div><hr />
<sup>[1]</sup> I claim that the best it can possibly be is a better approximation than any other current theology. I state that with the unprovable assertion that no human theology is going to get it all right. <div><br /></div><div><sup>[2]</sup> Primarily by Zwingli, and more or less against a single foe, the believer’s baptizing Annabaptists. </div><div><br /></div><div><sup>[3]</sup> John Murray, <i>Covenant Theology</i>. </div><div><br /></div><div><sup>[4]</sup> Herman Bavinck, <i>Reformed Dogmatics</i>. </div><div><br /></div><div><sup><span style="font-size: small;">[</span>5]</sup> For that matter, it can also be viewed through the lens of progressive dispensations, or progressive prophecies, or even progressive miracles. </div><div><sup><br /></sup></div><div><sup>[6]</sup> But are not distinctives of covenant theology.
</div></div></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-47472481084545908482020-12-02T11:30:00.007-05:002020-12-02T13:07:16.413-05:00A new rant on Covenant Theologians<p> Although I am much more aligned with Covenant Theology than Dispensationalism, every once in a while I read something that gets under my skin. Hence this rant.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Every doctrine under the mantel of Covenant Theology could
be correct (it’s manifestly not the case, given they have internal
squabbles), and I would still have serious reservations about the coterie
of covenant theologians. In my experience they add a burdensome legalistic yoke to the gospel,
and in the process transform what is light and beautiful (yet not trivial) into
an unwieldy and inconsistent Rube Goldberg of derived doctrines that
seek to nail down a meticulously detailed "<i>The </i>Doctrine of God" that is a) not taught in scripture
and b) given (a) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>is certainly not of primary
importance and perhaps not even of secondary importance.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And while they (covenant theologians) are usually smart
enough to allow that their backing confessions (WCF, LBCF) and litany of derived doctrines are not
on par with scripture, in practice they <i>always, always, always</i> treat them on equal
footing. The usual non-explanation for this misdirection is: “while our confession
is not scripture, we believe it to be the best possible summary of scripture.” With
this blunt instrument in hand, they proceed to <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>Become beholden to their man-made confession, because they
recognize if <i>any </i>of it falls, if any (the Pope is the antichrist!)
is found to be wrong or simply anachronistic, the whole house of cards will come
crashing down.</li><li>Once they are beholden to the confession, they elevate the
theologians directly and indirectly responsible for the confession or who champion the confession to a status
of effective infallibility.</li></ol><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The bottom line is that they impose the considerable weight
of their derived doctrines on those they are shepherding and teaching, and blithely dub them as
Great Christian Truths. Doctrines like Impassibility, “Types” of Law, Impeccability,
Divine Simplicity, and (extreme) Immutability. Not to mention an incredibly detailed (way beyond anything found in scripture) blueprint of the Trinity.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">All these doctrines have some basis of truth to them, but the details
are not to be found in scripture. Yes God (and most importantly his promises)
are taught to be unchangeable and hence trustworthy. But that is the extent to which
immutability is taught in scripture. How are the well-developed reformed
doctrines of Impassibility and Immutability (where all of the legion of references to God's emotions are purely anthropomorphic) obtained, if not from scripture,
which leaves the nuts and bolts (I would think on purpose) as a mystery? The reformed
theologians have a time-tested algorithm. It is used in every doctrine that
they say is not cardinal, but only while their fingers are crossed behind their backs.
The algorithm is this:</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Scriptural Seed + Greek Philosophy <span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 14px;">→</span> New, man-made
doctrine</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If you don’t believe me, study the doctrine of Divine
Simplicity. There you will see how a pinch of scriptural truth plus a heaping infusion of (fallible) Greek philosophy results in a “Great Christian Truth”
that is not found anywhere in your bible. The prophets didn’t teach it. Jesus
didn’t teach it. Paul didn’t teach it. Something like Divine Simplicity is probably true, but it
was not considered important by the biblical cast of prophets and teachers. And if the doctrine as
taught today is correct, it will only be by accident. And yet-- it is not unusual to hear the word "heresy" associated with denial of the doctrine (and other derived doctrines.) (Although the <i>H</i>-word is often deployed coyly, as in: "Now <i>I'm</i> not necessarily calling it heresy, but such and such dead theologian considered denial of this doctrine as heresy. Just saying.")</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In addition to strange and divisive doctrines (we were warned
about that somewhere), covenant theologians have painted themselves in a corner when it comes
to the Law. They break up the law into different types, sometimes three
sometimes more, and jettison all but the Ten
Commandments. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The worst explanation for keeping the Decalogue (instead of
what the bible clearly teaches—championing the replacement/fuller revelation of God's moral Law from Jesus at the Sermon on the Mount) is that
the discarded laws are strictly laws for a covenant, not eternal laws for all time, as are (they claim) the Ten Commandments.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is very wrong for two reasons. And, strangely, I'll argue that the second reason they are wrong is because they are right.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The first flaw in their reasoning is that the Ten Commandments were unknown until the Exodus. Sure, some (like a prohibition against murder) are obviously eternal. Saying the Decalogue contains some eternal prohibitions does not imply the eternality of all the commandments. For
example, there is no scriptural indication whatsoever that any person before the
time of the Exodus ever heard of the concept of “Remembering the Sabbath”.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The second reason they are wrong is because they are right.
That is, laws of a covenant are indeed null and void at the termination of the
covenant. (And some, but not necessarily all, may be adopted by the replacement covenant. Murder is still prohibited.). But the covenant theologians ignore their own rule, because <i>the Ten Commandments are also covenantal laws</i>. How do we know this?
Not from Greek Philosophy but from scripture:</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="text"><b><sup><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black;"></span></sup></b></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text"><b><sup><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black;">9 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black;">When I
went up into the mountain to receive the tablets of stone, <b>the tablets of
the covenant</b> which the </span></span><span class="small-caps"><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="text"><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black;"> made with you, then I
stayed on the mountain forty days and forty nights. I neither ate bread
nor drank water. </span><b><sup><span id="en-NKJV-5168" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">10</span><span style="font-size: 1.2rem;"> </span></span></sup></b>Then the </span><span class="small-caps"><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="text"><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black;"> delivered
to me two tablets of stone written with the finger of God, and on them <i>were</i> all
the words which the </span></span><span class="small-caps"><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="text"><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black;"> had spoken to you on
the mountain from the midst of the fire in</span></span><span class="text"><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black;"> the
day of the assembly. </span><b><sup><span id="en-NKJV-5169" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">11</span><span style="font-size: 1.2rem;"> </span></span></sup></b>And it came to pass, at the end of forty
days and forty nights, <i>that</i> the </span><span class="small-caps"><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="text"><span face=""Segoe UI",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black;"> gave
me the two tablets of stone<b>, the tablets of the covenant.</b></span> (Deut. 9:9-11, NKJV)</span></span></blockquote><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Moses himself describes the commandments as covenantal, not
eternal.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Covenant theology has many positive aspects, but
unfortunately it can also become a flowing fountain of kool-aid which, once consumed,
becomes an obsession. Everything must be shoe-horned into its confines. No
mystery remains (even those that are meant to remain) that the covenantal
framework and Greek Philosophy cannot unravel. <o:p></o:p></p>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-81128846679538703912020-10-31T13:42:00.005-04:002020-10-31T13:50:50.552-04:00Once again: Does Jesus Know Everything?<p> </p>
In one of those passages that have fascinated Christians through the ages, Jesus says, referring to His Second coming:
<blockquote>But of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone.</blockquote>
What does this mean? I certainly don’t know for sure, but I have some ever-evolving thoughts on the matter. <div><br /></div><div>First of all, there is general agreement that the human nature of Jesus was <i>not</i> omniscient. There is no problem in that regard. The issues becomes: what did the <i>divine</i> nature of Jesus know or not know? And what’s up with this puzzling choice of words that seem to limit the attribute of omniscience to the 1st person of the Trinity only? </div><div><br /></div><div>Broadly speaking, there are two views </div><div><br /></div><div>1) For the sake of the Incarnation, Jesus (the deity) “set aside” (by what mechanism, nobody knows) some of his Godly attributes in a cosmic lockbox, including some portion of his omniscience. So the passage means exactly what it says: Neither Jesus’ human nature (okay) nor his divine nature (surprise!) knows.</div><div><br /></div><div> 2) Another view is that Jesus’ divine nature was, is, and forever will be omniscient, but by design this knowledge was not transmitted to His human nature, which is speaking here for himself and only for himself. Jesus the God knows, but he’s not telling Jesus the man through whatever mysterious data transmission channel connects the two. <sup>[1]</sup> </div><div><br /></div><div> I support view 2, although it is fraught with danger. Crossing the threshold from Jesus’ natures being <i>distinct</i> into his natures being <i>separate</i> is to cross into the dreaded realm of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nestorianism">Nestorianism</a>.
What about the choice of words: <i>the Father alone [knows]</i>. That's a hard pill to swallow. For even if you accept view 1, that Jesus set aside divine omniscience, why, according to those words, is the 3rd person of the Trinity excluded from this knowledge? </div><div><br /></div><div>On the one hand it is a sort of amusing question, but on the other hand the implications of such a reality on our view of the Trinity are enormous. </div><div><br /></div><div>I can think of two explanations. There must be more, because probably both are wrong. </div><div><br /></div><div>1) The first explanation follows on top of the fact that Jesus the man was not omniscient. In this explanation for "only the Father knows", not only does man-Jesus admit ignorance on the time of the Second Coming, he displays ignorance of even a working understanding of the Trinity.
While it “works”, I reject view. Jesus' human nature may be missing some unessential information, but I will gladly make a fallacious argument from incredulity that it cannot be the case that Jesus the man had errors in his doctrine of God. May it never be. </div><div><br /></div><div> 2) My proffered explanation, though still probably wrong: Human language is simply inadequate. Here and elsewhere Jesus seems to refer to “God” as “Father” <sup>[2]</sup> . Why? Well I can think of a reason.
If Jesus’ divine nature is (as I believe) omniscient, as well as the Holy Spirit, then Jesus (the man) could have stated, </div><div><blockquote>But of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, but <i>God</i> alone.</blockquote>This would have preserved the omniscience of a persons of the Trinity. However, can you imagine what confusion that would have caused down the ages? It would have been used to “prove” (somewhat convincingly) that Jesus not only never affirmed his own deity, but by implication he denied it. To avoid that problem, Jesus would have had to pause at that point and give us an object lesson on the Trinity. Which would have been splendid, but apparently it was not the time or the place. So the words were chosen to strike a balance between creating confusion and unnecessary data overload. The blanks were left for the reader to fill in for homework. </div><div><br /></div><div> I don't knowif that's right. I give it no more than a 25% chance But it's all I got.</div><div><br />
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<sup>[1]</sup> The divine nature can communicate to the human. Jesus can prophesy. Jesus can read minds and hearts. For example, he knew Nathanael before he met him:
<blockquote>The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, “Follow me.” Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. Philip found Nathanael and said to him, “We have found him of whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.” Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.” Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him and said of him, “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!” Nathanael said to him, “How do you know me?” Jesus answered him, “Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you.” Nathanael answered him, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” (John 1:43-49)</blockquote>
<sup>[2]</sup> E.g., on the cross: "Forgive them Father for they know not..". Since the divine nature of Jesus has the power to forgive sins, The human nature of Jesus could have prayed: "Forgive them God for they know not..". But great exegetical michief would have ensued.
</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3500036.post-43123250846582390932020-10-20T11:26:00.003-04:002020-10-20T11:36:59.545-04:00Nobody's Right, if Everybody's Wrong<p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">There's battle lines being drawn</span></i></div><i><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">And nobody's right if everybody's wrong</span></i></div></i><p></p><p> The October 2020 issue of <i>Table Talk</i> is devoted to covenant theology. In an article entitied <i>the Covenant in History</i>, R. Scot Clark writes:</p><p></p><blockquote><p>In the history of theology, the elements of what we know as covenant theology--the covenant of redemption before time between the persons of the Trinity, the covenant of works with Adam, the covenant of grace after the fall--have existed since the early church.</p></blockquote><p>And here, in a recent (July, 2020) <a href="https://biblereasons.com/dispensationalism-and-the-early-church-fathers/" target="_blank">article on dispensationalism</a>, entitled <i>Dispensationism and the Early Church Fathers</i>, William B. Hemsworth writes:</p><p></p><blockquote>In this paper I will show that dispensationalism was not the invention of a 19th-century Biblical scholar, but that it has roots in the earliest days of the Christian church.</blockquote><p></p><p>And of course there are the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baptist_successionism" target="_blank">Baptist Successionalists</a>, who argue that Baptists (not counting just "John-The") have been around since, you guessed it, the early church.</p><p>Apparently the early church fathers were covenant theologian dispensationalists who baptized infants and re-baptized them later, as adults, for good measure, and held regular pot-luck dinners, at least until they had their fill of green-bean casseroles. Their views on dancing (and eschatology) were presumably quite muddled.</p><p>Systematic theology. It sounds good, It sounds wholesome even. Who could not be in favor of Systematic theology?</p><p>Well, I'm not. It is a trap. In my opinion, it is humanly impossible to champion a systematic theology and be free of confirmation bias. </p><p>In my experience (and I was once there) as soon as you are heavily invested, your hermeneutic becomes: <i>how can I make this passage fit my systematic theology?</i> It devolves into a massive "cart-before-the-horse" scenario.</p><p>A relatively benign version of the syndrome is "Cage Calvinism." If you have this malady, you try to make everything you read fit TULIP, especially the <i>U</i>. Annoying, but not fatal.</p><p>When systematic theology is the illness, the disease is more virulent, especially as it first infects theologians and academics at a higher rate than the normal population. They then become effective super-spreaders. </p><p>I have seen systematic theology destroy relationships and cause some to leave a church.</p><p>And, by the way, there was absolutely nothing resembling full-blown covenant theology or dispensationalism in the early church. They are both modern inventions. Yes, there were elements of both present--but those elements are so generic that only confirmation bias makes one see them as meaningful confirmation.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08688240424047203541noreply@blogger.com4