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January 2018

Where Are All The Men?

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By most objective standards of measurement, it can be argued that the Christian Church is increasingly dominated by women.  Whereas women still strive for parity in secular society, it seems the shoe is on the other foot when it comes to organized religion.  It’s not just a matter of membership, either.  In areas long the domain of men by custom or rule, sacerdotal and administrative functions are increasingly performed by women.  The leaders in this respect are of course the liberal Protestant denominations, because unlike the Roman church, they lack rules against female leadership.  Even in the evangelical and charismatic branches of the Church, however, women are more than likely the ones who are taking charge and taking over, much to the consternation of the few men left.

 

There are those who would say that this is nothing to be upset about, that perhaps women will do a better job than men, who have no doubt made a hash of things.  But it’s important to remember that Church membership and ministry are not matters of rights, but of opportunities to suffer for the cause of Christ, and if men are not carrying their share of the burden, something is wrong.  In the Bible, periods of spiritual decline were usually characterized by the worship of female goddesses and a general sexualizing of the worship experience, and if the same principle holds today, that speaks volumes about where we stand as a Church.  The inevitable result of this trend is a criticism of women, with the charge that their prominence leads to a religion that is marginalized and unattractive to men.  The possibility remains, however, that the ascendency of women is a consequence and not a cause, and it would be more fruitful to look at all the actors in the drama before blame is assigned or accepted.

 

The first hint of an explanation for all this came from my own experience.  I managed to waste nine years of my life between the time I first “realized my election to God in Christ Jesus,” as Oswald Chambers so eloquently puts it, and the time I learned to cooperate with the Holy Spirit.  Wherever I would live during that period, I would look up Christian fellowship, attend, and become terrified of what I saw.  If I had to become like the other men present, I wanted none of it.  I didn’t want to be defined by the constraints of faith, but rather set free by the promises it carried.  Yet one and all seemed to be travailing under a set of rules that try as I might, I couldn’t submit to.  Eventually all that changed when I met someone who was both a faithful Christian and a real man, and I got the guidance and encouragement I needed.  I wasn’t sure what the change was, but what was hard became easy, and I was able to succeed where before I had failed.  I attributed my delayed conversion to personal obtuseness, and thought no more about it.  It was not until I realized that my three sons were also going through much the same trauma that I entertained the notion that perhaps there are real, gender-based tendencies that need to be addressed if the Church is going to find men as receptive as women to the Christian Gospel.

 

This is how I figured it out.  I have five kids, three boys and two girls, with the genders alternating.  Beautiful.  As far as the girls are concerned, they took to the Christian experience like ducks to water.  As these two were growing up, they apparently listened in Sunday school, during family prayer times, and later in church on their own and gave their hearts, minds and bodies to Jesus Christ.  They are integrated, gracious and beautiful girls who are a delight to their earthly father, and no doubt to their heavenly father as well.

 

Then there are my boys.  Raised the same way, exposed to the same message, given the same treatment in every way, they’ve had substantially different reactions to the Gospel.  The oldest claims no Christian faith, although he has a very high doctrine of moral behavior and is not at all given to criticizing others who do believe.  The middle boy is off to seminary, like me, but even though he is a pious, self-controlled young man, he nevertheless evinces some screwy ideas about politics and social organization that I, too, held at his age.  The third boy, who at times espouses Christian faith, nevertheless seems to have trouble reading his Bible and actually doing what it says to do.  Or not do.  So before boys #2 and 3 moved away to the East Coast, I convened what I called a Male Summit to ask them about their experience with the Lord to date as well as how I, as their father, either helped or hindered that encounter.  I figured I should clear up any misunderstandings while I had them in my house one last time, as they were not doing as well as my girls.

 

So here’s what I did.  I prayed about finding something we could read and comment on that was written by some third party.  Like clockwork, I came upon three consecutive chapters in Francis Schaeffer’s book, Death in the City, which seemed to fit the bill perfectly.  I asked the oldest to read the chapter entitled, The Man Without the Bible.  The middle boy was asked to read the next chapter, The Justice of God.  The youngest was given the last chapter, The Two Chairs.  Each chapter addressed something that each boy had expressed misgivings about.  In the case of the oldest, it was the existence of God and an absolute moral imperative in the universe.  Schaeffer quotes Paul in the opening chapters of Romans where he makes a case for man being under a general wrath from God, not because he has disobeyed special revelation, but because man can see evidence of the divine both in himself and in the created order, yet does not follow the trail of evidence to its logical conclusion.  The middle boy, about to embark on the troubled waters of a modern seminary indoctrination, has articulated some libertarian political and social feelings.  Although this is forgivable in the young, it doesn’t square with a Biblical view of man who, when left to his own devices, does not tend to good but to evil.  The last chapter contains a cogent metaphor that drives home the point that intellectual credence is trumped by behavior every time.  If we say we believe something, we need to back it up with consistent action.  The kids were asked to deliver a book report, if you will, not necessarily accepting or liking what they read, but just being able to convey Schaeffer’s argument.

 

The big day rolled around, and book reports were delivered.  What stole the show, however, were their responses to the question about where they were vis a vis the Gospel.  All three, it turned out, had had a spiritual encounter with the risen Lord, had experienced a sense of cleansing and well-being, yet each in turn had then embarked upon a process of trying to maintain those sensations even as they dissipated.  This surprised me, as I was not aware that boys 1 and 3 had had such an encounter.  Further, I was surprised that boy 2 had struggled in his relationship with the Lord, although not to the point of despair.  Thus, all three of my male children had experiences not unlike mine where the bliss of divine encounter turned into a struggle to maintain the mountain top sensation through works, and eventually a grudging recognition of the truth of the Gospel while experiencing none of its power or liberty.  The question now became, did we all share this experience because we’re related by genetics, or by gender?

 

A pattern was becoming clear.  Each felt the Christian life consisted of efforts to please the Lord so that the Lord would abide in them.  I felt this for nine years, and it was only when I was discipled by a successful Christian man that I learned I didn’t have to do anything to remain where I had been put by the Cross of Christ.  I was doing too much, and here were my sons making the same mistake.  Apparently I never told my sons what this man told me, that I had made all the decisions I needed to make, I just needed to grow.  We had, one and all, concluded that as the feeling of rapture faded, as it must, God was displeased with us, and we needed to strive harder to maintain it.  As men go through this cycle of renewed effort, necessary fatigue and increasing guilt, it’s no surprise that many fall away.  To some extent it’s a measure of character that they renounced the whole endeavor, rather than continue with some desultory religion that imposed rules but didn’t offer true freedom.  What none of us realized at the time was that we were simply barking up the wrong spiritual tree.  God will not tolerate those who try to achieve moral purity through anything but appeal to the Cross, nor does he tolerate those who, no matter how sincere, try to reform themselves and make themselves factories of good when in fact “no good thing dwells in my flesh.”  So if sincere but misguided efforts at living aright are not in order, then what is?

 

Continued talk brought us to the part of the last chapter of Schaeffer’s book about the two chairs where he talks about the nature of the Christian life.  I quote:

 

“The difference between a Christian who is being supernatural in practice and one who says he is a Christian but lives like a materialist can be illustrated by the difference between a storage battery and a light plug.  Some Christians seem to think that when they are born again, they become a self-contained unit like a storage battery.  From that time on they have to go on their pep and their own power until they die.  But this is wrong.  After we are justified, once for all through faith in Christ, we are to live in supernatural communion with the Lord every moment; we are to be like lights plugged into an electric socket.”

 

Here’s the first real insight.  No matter how hard a battery tries to maintain current, it will eventually run out.  By design.  This is a struggle that we are simply not to undertake at all.  In addition to doing too much, it can be argued that there’s something good that men often fail to do.  Francis continues two pages later:

 

“The Bible tells us plainly that Christ promises to bear His fruit through us.  In Romans 7:4 Paul says a very striking thing: ‘Wherefore, my brethren, ye also are become dead to the law by the body of Christ, in order that ye should be married to another, even to him who is raised from the dead, in order that we should bring forth fruit unto God.’  This verse says that each of us as a Christian is feminine.  At conversion we are married to Christ, who is the bridegroom, and as we put ourselves in his arms, moment by moment, he will produce His fruit through us into the external world.  That is beautiful and overwhelming.  Just as with the natural bride who gives herself to her husband and puts herself in his arms, there will be children born into a home.  The bride can’t just stand with the bridegroom at the wedding ceremony.  She must give herself to him existentially, regularly and then children will be born to him, through her body, into the external world.”

 

Here is a second reason real men miss the boat, but to understand it, we have to be willing to accept that men and women are not only physically different, but poles apart in terms of how they approach relationships in general and intimacy in particular.  Is it possible that what is hard for one gender comes easily to the other?  Is it possible that the weakness of one sex correspond with strengths in the other, so that united we might become a complementary whole?  If you allow for these possibilities, then you may be able to accept the following argument.  Men in general don’t want to be perceived as feminine or reactive.  We want to be masculine, and at least with regard to the opposite sex, that means being proactive.  Although modern culture has to a large degree dismantled these notions, I submit that there is a core of truth that transcends time and culture and must be acknowledged.  I am not arguing that men and women are not equal.  I am arguing that they are not equivalent.  Given the text from Romans 7, I ask, what man wants to be feminine?  What man has the first clue what it means to be spiritually feminine?  While women have traditionally been asked to cede their will and give themselves in love and trust to the ministrations of another, men, real men, have no such experience or inclination.  Almost all our natural motivation and socialization must be set aside so that we can embark on this new life of spiritual intimacy with another, a man no less.  Any reversion to those tricks which work in the world and society will do nothing but get us into spiritual trouble with the new authority in our lives, the living Jesus.  And just how do we give ourselves existentially and repeatedly to this man?  As Daws Trotman of the Navigators discovered, through prayer, Bible study, fellowship and witness.  There has to be a deliberate discarding of old knowledge, suppositions and reactions, and the systematic acceptance of the new.  Any natural independence, self-reliance, common sense and spontaneous improvisation, things which worked in the former life to good effect, must pass under the rod of judgment and probable dismissal.

 

In other words, if men treat their relationship with Jesus the way they treat relationships with women, they will be headed for trouble.  Put another way, the more successful a man is in social contexts, the more of a failure he’s bound to be in spiritual.  By convention if not by nature, men are the initiators in their dealings with women.  It is they who are to approach, they who are to initiate, they who propose, they who provide materially, and of course, they who set the sexual agenda.  Women, by contrast, and excuse the generalization, find their fulfillment in the relinquishment of their independence, emotions and bodies to their husbands.  I would argue that objections raised by this statement have more to do with the low performance of husbands than any inability on the part of wives.  That objection notwithstanding, what is expected and effective with a woman is disastrous when it comes to the Lord Jesus Christ.  Many of the things that my sons and I thought we had to do to maintain the bliss of our new fellowship with Jesus were to be done by him, and not by us.  Frankly, the only task left to us was that we stop doing things we mistakenly thought we were to do, and let ourselves become more sensitized to the love language of Jesus.

 

I had already read this last chapter of Schaeffer’s book, yet its relevance to all male converts was lost on me until we read it together in our meeting.  It was as if scales fell from my eyes.  I knew men and women were different, but it never occurred to me that men faced the specter of a major overhaul to a greater degree then women.  No wonder men fall by the wayside!  First, it’s not for lack of trying, but for trying too hard!  Then we fail to do the simple things that any romance requires, and that is to immerse ourselves in the ministrations of our partner apart from our own energies.  Not the first time men have underperformed romantically.

 

So what’s to be done?  I would posit that men, more than women, need to be discipled, to be steered away from what comes naturally, and to be steered towards what is at first unnatural, to learn how to give themselves existentially and repeatedly to Jesus.  All this would be more obvious if the Church were clear about what it is asking people, both men and women, to do in terms of responding to the Gospel.  If there’s one thing that separates Christians, it’s this very thing: what does God want us to do?  Some say works, either of omission or commission (Baptists and Romans, respectively.)  Some say we’re to attain knowledge (dispensationalists, you know who you are.)  Some say nothing at all (Episcopalians and other mainline liberals.)  If existing Christians are not clear about what God wants us to do or not do, how can we help new converts?

 

The simplest way to package our message is to say that there are some things only God can do, and these we should not attempt.  Further, there are things that God can do but won’t, because he wants us to do them.  To wit, we cannot justify ourselves.  We are collectively and individually guilty of moral trespass against God.  There is nothing we can do about this; it requires a divine solution.  In order that our moral guilt be expunged, the Father sent his Son, Jesus of Nazareth, to the Cross in order that he might suffer the punishment our sins merit, which was a tortuous death.  Only the sinless can take the sin of another, and that’s what happened on the Cross.  As of Good Friday, all sins of all people from all time have been placed in Jesus and covered by his blood.  There is no limit to the power of the cross: God has justified all humanity, and there is no longer any impediment to our communion with him from his perspective.

 

Man has another problem, however, and that is our continued enmity with God.  Paul speaks of a coming wrath from which all need salvation.  We are powerless to act in keeping with our newfound legal status of moral purity, and we tend, as before, to moral wrongdoing and wrong being.  Rather than strive to reform ourselves and act in keeping with our legal status, we need to realize that we cannot do it, but the job must get done nonetheless.  We are to give up striving, and ask another to do the job for us, in us, none other than the same Jesus of Nazareth who died for us.  Though he died a real death, he was also raised to life, and reigns as Lord in heaven.  He will come to us in the person of the Holy Spirit and animate us in genuine moral purity if we will let him.  The only catch is that he brooks no competition, and we must cede our will to his if he is to abide in us and we in him.  It’s not a matter of performing works that please God, as my sons and I tried, but rather a cessation of works altogether, where we not only admit but celebrate our inability to do anything right.  We are to stop worrying about doing and start worrying about being.  As Oswald Chambers says, are we willing to be stripped of any trapping, any merit, any offering, and just present ourselves naked before our Lord?

 

So it’s easy to see why men have trouble with the Christian life.  As my oldest son says, “I am not constitutionally suited to the Christian life.”  To this I would reply, “No man is, until his constitution is changed.”  And, I might add, until our definition of that Christian life is also presented accurately.  In any event, the problem with the Church is not women.  Women are not to be criticized for taking over.  Rather, let’s realize that they’re merely filling a void that they perceive in terms of the presence and behavior of men.  To vilify women is to miss the point, and criticize the manifestation of a problem, rather than the root cause.  Our time would be much better spent reforming the way men are indoctrinated in the Christian faith, so that they would assume their rightful role as workers and leaders who are pulling their own weight in an operation that’s designed to bring out the best in both men and women.  

 

Presented properly, the claims of the Gospel should be very, very attractive to real men.  Though at present our message is one of vague, sentimental niceness, imagine it reformed to what it should be: a clash of kings, kingdoms and armies under perfect authority and control.  Be clear about the product you are selling, and the attraction will be manifest to all, especially men.  Then others won’t have to do what my sons and I have done, wasting precious years experiencing middling successes and painful failures.  A revised approach to male ministry will not only reduce personal suffering, it will transform the appearance of the Church as a whole.  As it is, it doesn’t scare anybody, most notably the Devil.  What the Church needs is some men with, in the words of Oswald Chambers, a distinct family likeness to Jesus Christ.  Jesus was the greatest fighter of all time.  Two things distinguished his technique.  First of all, he chose to fight the proper opponent.  He was never distracted by people who were doing the Devil’s bidding.  He went to the top of the organizational chart and took on the chief troublemaker.  Secondly, he fought for a permanent solution.  He didn’t try to patch people up so that they were better.  He replaced them with his own Spirit so that they could be what they were in the beginning: holy.  For all who despise the partial, the temporary, the wrong, this Gospel is for you.  God doesn’t do things many ways, in an attempt to find a fitting solution.  He does things once, correctly, and perfectly, so that they need never be repeated.  The chance to be involved in a struggle like this should animate anybody, and especially men, who want their lives to be dramatic and meaningful.

 

When It Comes to Selecting Clergy

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When it comes to selecting clergy, it helps to refer to the Owner’s Manual, otherwise known as the Bible.  The early Church faced the same problems modern churches do when it came to finding suitable leadership.  Paul addresses the situation to Titus in the first chapter of his letter to him, verses 5-9.  What he tells his young charge is that the person should be a male, married to one woman, and morally blameless.  This excludes many who fancy themselves Christian leaders today, but according to the Bible, this is the way it is.  Thus, you are looking for a male, a heterosexual, and somebody who’s not divorced.  Why does this surprise us?  Is it wrong to ask that those elevated to Christian leadership might be successful and lead integrated lives?  We’re not talking about membership, but leadership; a very different thing.

 

Those who view the Bible as dated, culturally bound and subject to revision run the risk of excluding God from their calculations, and finding that he is no longer part of their ministry.  Is this not in fact what has happened to the mainline Protestant denominations, one and all?  They have dumbed down the Gospel to the point that the Church resembles the world, and people have concluded that if Christians are no different from the impenitent, then why attend at all?  This is bourn out in verse 9, which says that the person selected to be an elder in the Church must not be a theological innovator.  There is a message from outside ourselves that must be held to firmly, and which constitutes sound doctrine.  To reject the Bible is to pass judgment on God himself.  This is a very dangerous thing.  The Father has granted judgment to the Son, and the Son has in turn passed authority to judge on to his Word.  It is this carelessness with the Bible and the unsound doctrine that results which has led to disinterest on the part of Christian and non-Christian alike in our ministries.

 

Typically, churches commit one of two errors in terms of how they present the claims of Christ.  The first group says that we must achieve moral purity before we can be welcomed into the Church.  This is wrong, in that the Gospel says that without Christ’s help, we can do nothing right.  It is indeed our duty to welcome all into our midst without condition or reservation.  The other error, however, and the one most mainline Protestant churches commit, is to say that all are welcome, but that there’s not expectation that they leave their life of sin behind.  What did Jesus say to those he accepted?  “Go and sin no more, lest something worse befall you.”

 

The Gospel has two components, each addressing a fundamental problem of mankind.  Because we have moral guilt before a holy God, we need forgiveness.  We must be justified in God’s eyes so that he is no longer at enmity with us.  This was accomplished once and for all on the Cross on Good Friday.  God laid the sins of the entire world on Jesus, looked away, and allowed him to be punished for the sins of others.  This many Christians understand, and constitutes the basis for our open door policy towards miscreants and sinners.  On the other hand, we also lack power to learn, change and grow.  Apart from the life of the risen Christ in the person of the Holy Spirit, we continue to wallow in our sins and stand in need of constant forgiveness.  Thus, a second need of man, for power, was met as of Pentecost.  Whereas the business of Good Friday was God’s own doing, the business of letting the Holy Spirit have control of our lives involves us to a high degree.  It is here, in the matter of ceding our will to Jesus, obeying his word and becoming vessels for his powerful Spirit, that most mainline Protestants fall down.  They want to be forgiven, but they still want to be in charge, and able to continue sinning.  As of Good Friday God is no longer at enmity with us.  Theoretically, as of Pentecost, we are no longer at enmity with him.  In fact, many are at enmity with God, running from him as Adam did when he heard him walking in the garden.

 

Any good minister of the Christian Gospel must be not only conversant in this dynamic, but also somebody who has been through it themselves.  It should not be  something abstract and theoretical, but something personal and well understood.  They must be able to tell how they came to understand that the Cross was a personal event, and that they responded to God’s gracious initiative by ceding their will to the risen Lord.  He can’t teach others to do what he has not done for himself.  Christian leadership is not a right, but a privilege; one reserved for only the best, most dynamic Christians.

 

Your parish may a lovely campus, and a dedicated volunteer base; but these don’t matter if the clerical leadership is bad.  The recipe for getting a good priest is this: find a man who’s conservative in every way.  Theologically, morally, and politically.  Liberals of every stripe love to disassociate cause and effect, so as to prevent the “suffering” that God intends for those who break his laws.  He should also, however, reflect the relative freedom we have in Christ by having an irrepressible, self-deprecating sense of humor, and to not be a stickler for the form of religion.

 

To pay for this man, fire everybody except the sexton and somebody to play music.  You don’t need an accomplished organist.  You have a fine organ, but organs are anachronisms that do not interest the next generation.  Offer the candidate a base salary that you can meet at present, and a share of any increase due to higher giving and attendance, like a bonus.  Business does it, why shouldn’t we?  The new Rector has the right to fire everybody anyway, so do it for him before he gets here.  Get somebody young who ISN’T on a second career.  If you were that great a Christian leader, you would have entered the ministry the first time.

 

Canon Law: Episcopal Church Property Seizures

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Like a skeleton, the Constitutions and Canons of the Episcopal Church form the compressive elements in the organism that give it its shape.  They determine who gets in, what they have to do to get out.  That’s the theory, at least.  On paper, they look pretty good.  There’s not much left to imagination or interpretation.  Buy they’re like the U.S. Declaration of Independence and Constitution, which were read by Ho Chi Minh, when he was more nationalist than communist.  He read them, liked them, and wrote to the U.S. State Department, asked for help in ousting the French as we were obviously freedom-loving people.  Only problem?  We didn’t do what we said.  The entreaty from Ho was locked away as “Top Secret” because we felt national liberation movements were secondary to the larger task of fighting communism, and the French were needed as allies in that struggle.  Many tears later, it’s clear that if would have acted in accord with our founding documents, the world would be a better place.  I feel the same way about the Episcopal Church.  It would be a pretty good expression of the life and power of Christ if we would just do what they say.

 

Case in point.  My bishop wanted to start new congregations.  He launched an initiative he called “Vision 2000” in the year 2000.  The goal was to raise $10M to start 15 new churches.  I heard about it, and during my annual visit, offered to start a new church with no money needed.  My wife and I were out driving, saw a new elementary school on the outskirts of town in an area that was witnessing new growth, and we stopped in to ask about renting their cafeteria on Sundays.  The staff quickly agreed on a reasonable fee, and I talked my vestry into supported the new effort by letting me leave quickly after the second service and driving down to do a third at the school.  Furthermore, they invested money by buying a new PA system, electric piano, and associated musical gear.  We traveled to the new school and prayed over the neighborhood, asking God to use us to reach those already there and those moving in.

 

The new congregation was fairly successful.  Many people from the home parish would come to church twice on Sunday, attending a service at each place.  People heard about us in the new area and attendance rose.  One of the problems we faced from the start was how to answer the question, “What kind of church are you?”  On the one hand, I wore a collar and a suit, and we loosely followed a Rite II Eucharistic order of service.  No hymnals, but a projector showing words to the songs, which were contemporary for the most part.  My response was, “I’m an Episcopal priest, and the new church plant is sponsored by an Episcopal parish, but we’re striving to develop a church modeled on the principles of Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Church.  That is, we’re trying to conduct ministry on several levels.  On the one hand, we want to reach the unchurched, and those who’ve been ill-served by mainline churches.  On the other, we want to equip mature Christians to engage in ministry without saddling them with a rehearsal of the ABC’s of the Christian faith.  The next question was this, “Are you liberal, like most Episcopalians, supporting left wing political agendas and encouraging people to hang on to their sinful habits without challenging them to learn, change and grow?”  To this we replied, “No, by no means.”  Then came the question, “Where does the money I put in the plate go?”  This is a problem faced by full-on Episcopal parishes as well as church plants.  The National Church has become famous for wasting money, and using it to advance causes that are questionable if not anti-Christian in their goals.  Further, many people were worried about the fate of funds provided for church facilities that would belong to Bishops and Dioceses, not the individual congregation.  In all sincerity, I could not ask people, whether new or old, to give money to build something that they would not own or control.

 

In order to get around this very real concern, I read the Constitution and Canons.  What I found was that the principle of Diocesan ownership extended to property held by parishes and missions only.  It did not extend to what were called “Church Related Institutions,” like schools, hospitals, and service organizations.  So what I did was draw up articles of incorporation consistent with state diocesan guidelines setting up our congregation as being church-related, but not a parish or mission.  The bishop, who never does anything without consulting his Chancellor, or diocesan attorney, refused to accept the congregation under those terms.  The Chancellor announced that the only two ways Christians could affiliate with the Episcopal Church in that diocese would be as a parish or mission; nothing else would be tolerated.

 

So we continued to operate with no valid articles of incorporation for some time.  After awhile I was involved in a serious auto accident, and although I tried to work at the new congregation for a year, was not able to.  Lacking support from the diocese, I cast about for somebody who could lead the new group from outside the church.  The fellow I selected was soon introduced to that truculence particular to Episcopalians, even ones that are evangelically minded, and abdicated to another who came from the Reformed tradition.  This fellow lasted a year, and last I hear, the church we started is now a Missouri Synod Lutheran congregation.  The equipment we bought and provided, which by the Articles of Incorporation was vested in the Diocese should the congregation fold, has disappeared I know not where.  When a friend who still attends asked if I could preach as a guest preacher, he was told that I was not qualified, as I was not Missouri Synod Lutheran.

 

Since that time the Episcopal Church has been devastated by the departure of faithful, orthodox Christians who, at the cost of their physical plants and ALL property, have left to preserve some semblance of Biblical piety.  This is hard on those who leave, and hard on those who stay.  The last chapter has yet to be written, for as Nebuchadnezzar’s emissary said to Hezekiah, “I’ll give you a thousand horses if you can put riders on them.”  I doubt the bishops who have seized property will be able to pay their mortgages and upkeep with the few parishioners they can put in the pews.  All of this could have been avoided if the Constitution and Canons were read and applied with a little imagination and mercy.  Terrible.

 

When the terminally ill are asked to speak at a funeral

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I stand before you reluctantly, and only because Peter’s wife asked me to speak.  I am not qualified to address you today except for two circumstances, one good and the other bad.  The good is that I knew Peter and worked with him, and can attest that he was a talented, gracious person who will be sorely missed by all who knew him.  The bad is that like him, I am also sick with cancer that modern medicine is unable to control.  So, against my wishes, I, too, am an expert on what it is like to have everything life can offer, except my health.  Perhaps Peter is unique in that only his passing could assemble this group, at this time, in this place.  Let me do my best to redeem the occasion.

 

Now don’t get me wrong, there is nothing I have not done to avoid being here.  I wish to God I were out there with you, lamenting Peter’s death without having to have premonitions of what may be in my own future.  There is no treatment I have not requested, no stone I have left unturned, that I might be given a reprieve and be allowed to once again become careless about life.  But the recurrent theme of my existence has become this: you may well die sooner rather than later, so what are you going to do about it?  Needless to say, I’ve put my affairs in order in a deliberate and conscious way.  Taking care of my family and my estate is fairly easy; to a large degree that’s what Peter and I did for a living.  We helped people take action today that would bear fruit for tomorrow.  The harder part was to deal with the sense that I am more than a body; that I have a soul that is trapped in this frail, dysfunctional body, that will surely outlast it.  I have a future, and even though I don’t know the details, I do know that it, like my finances, it requires preparation and execution.  Let me explain.

There were two things that were keeping me awake at night.  First of all, I found out that I was not ready to die.  I realized I was in debt to my Creator because of moral guilt.  I had sins of omission and commission that were real and had to be answered for before I could face death with confidence.  The second thing I needed was to learn is how to live.  How can I, whether I live a year or 100 years, acquire the power to reform myself?  When pressed by circumstances, I was not a better person to those around me, but worse.  To quote the Apostle Paul, “I can know what is right, but it is the wrong that I despise that I keep on doing.”  I had to admit that I was essentially powerless and unable to change, learn and grow without outside help.

 

Happily, in spite of my neurotic Roman Catholic upbringing, I have found answers to both problems.  They didn’t come from religion, but from a person, by the name of Jesus of Nazareth.  What I have discovered, is that in addition to being historical facts, his death and resurrection are profoundly personal events, relevant to all humanity.  When he died on a cross, executed by the Roman state, he accepted the punishment that was due all of us for our sins.  In doing this, he allowed a wonderful exchange to take place: our sins for his righteousness.  And not just our sins, MY sins.  In a very real way, I was present at the Cross.  I can face the prospect of death with confidence that I stand fully justified and pure before my Maker.  Further, this man did not stay in the ground, but was raised by the Father to a new life, one that he is permitted to share with all those who will ask for it.  No longer do I have to work and strive to be a better person.  What I have to do is to admit my failure, to STOP trying, to get out of the way, and to let this Jesus do it all through me.  It is His life that now permeates this body of mine, doing in me what I want to do, but have always fallen short of actually doing.  So whether I live a year or 100, I can move beyond mere existence, to a state of constant interchange with my Master that can only be described as truly living.  In this man I have the two things I need most in this world, a Savior for my sins, and a Lord for my life.

 

So I have discovered this truth: it is the very finitude of life that makes the days we have together sacred and meaningful.  Peter’s wife already knows this in a personal way, that only in his passing can she full appreciate what his presence meant.  So I challenge you all to redeem Peter’s death and my struggle by going through the same exercise we have had to engage in: how can I let the prospect of death teach me to truly live?  Your presence in this room has been purchased at a high price; Peter’s death and my on-going struggle.  You have to power to make sense of all this, if you will, like us, embrace your mortality and take from it the good news that you only have two problems, and they have both been solved before you even knew of them, by the One who made you, and who craves to walk with you today and forever.

 

Dear Parents and Godparents

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Dear Parents and Godparents,

Congratulations on being asked by other parents to be involved with the baptism of one of their critters.  The institution of godparents probably extends back to times of greater mortality, when parents wanted to ensure that should they die, their children would be raised in a godly tradition.  Even today, being a godparent implies that the parents of a child see something in your life that they want instilled in their child as they grow.  In the course of the ceremony you will be asked questions, both affirmations and renunciations.  The service can be found in the Book of Common Prayer, pages 299 through 314.  The link to the online version is here: http://www.bcponline.org

 

The practice of baptizing infants and children has come under heavy criticism, as it suggests that there is some magical property in the rite that transcends understanding.  To some extent the 1979 Prayer Book is guilty of making this claim.  Other Christians suggest that baptism is appropriate only for older people who are capable of understanding what it is that is being said and promised.  I believe that it is in fact appropriate to baptize infants and young children as long as it is understood what baptism is and isn’t.  Let me explain.

 

Baptism is not magic.  There are many people who are lost spiritually who were baptized.  Further, there are many redeemed who were never baptized; the thief on the cross being a prime example.  So what are we doing here?  Baptism is two things.  First of all, it is a celebration of the fact that without our knowledge or consent, Jesus Christ died on behalf of a sinful humanity, and all people, in every place and age, are justified by virtue of his substitutionary death.  Humanity will never be judged for its sins; they’ve been atoned for by the blood of Christ on the cross.  Just as an infant is unaware of this fact, so we are unaware that our sins are atoned for and will never be debited to our account.  Secondly, baptism is a public declaration, with by an individual or parents and sponsors, that we recognize the death of Christ to be germane to our lives, and that just as he died, we, too, need to die to self, be buried and come up a new person.  We need to cede our will to Jesus, and the symbol of giving up our will is to allow ourselves to be buried, in water as it’s cleaner than dirt, so that the old man with his selfish will, might be done away with.  We come up in newness of life, free to obey Jesus as Lord and embark on a new adventure of living with Him.  To the extent that kids are being baptized, it’s up to the parents and sponsors to bring them up to know that just because they want something, doesn’t mean it’s good or they should get it.  It takes a lifetime sometimes to get the point across that our will should not, must not, be paramount, and that the faster we sign the death warrant to our own wills the better off we’ll be.  Thus, parents and sponsors are the tools God uses to get the point across to kids that “It’s not about you.”  To the extent that you can help them control their will, you’ve been God’s surrogate, and everybody, God, them, society and you, will be the better for it.

 

Although it’s beyond the scope of a discussion of baptism, I should point out that the way people get into spiritual trouble is not for being sinners per se, but for being fruitless.  Jesus died for our sins, he is our savior.  He lives to impart new power to us, he is our Lord.  Or should be.  Check out that attached paper for more.  

This brief monograph captures the salient points of Christian doctrine.  I would appreciate it if, before the ceremony, you read, mark, learn and inwardly digest it.  It’s all based on Scripture, and conforms to the thinking of the great Christian luminaries across the ages.  I would ask that you be prepared to answer the following questions:

 

What, if anything, is new to you?

Is there anything you don’t understand?

Is there anything you understand but don’t agree with?

Is there any Scriptural basis for your disagreement?  Any historical precedent for your viewpoint?

Do you still want to be a sponsor?  Some kids are pretty docile, while others can be a handful.

Please feel free to contact me with any reactions you have to this letter or this article.  As the Scriptures say, it’s better to not vow, than to vow and break it.  Thank you for your willingness to get involved in the life of a child.  I look forward to having a beer and hearing the answers to these questions.

Why I’m Not a Five Point Calvinist

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T – Total Depravity

The first point of orthodox Calvinism is that man is totally depraved.  I would argue that he’s right to the extent that our will is depraved, and apart from the indwelling Holy Spirit, nothing good can be accomplished by man.  Pelagius’ argument was that man could in fact do right apart from the aid of the Holy Spirit, and in this he’s totally wrong.  However, as Richard Hooker and Romans chapter 7 point out, although we are powerless to do right, we are not powerless to know and aspire to do right.  Says the Apostle Paul, “For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.  For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do – this I keep on doing.”  Thus we see that by the Biblical record, as well as the witness of discerning Christians, we are partially, not totally, depraved.  A distinction must be made between our moral perception and our moral action.  Thus it can be concluded that our conscience is intact until “seared as with a hot iron,” as Paul says.  One down, four to go.

 

U – Unconditional Election

Perhaps the biggest error of Calvinist soteriology is to be found in the doctrine of double election or predestination for the individual.  In a typical Greek or Western reading of the Scriptures, which is always an error, Calvin concludes that God elects some for salvation to show his mercy, and some for damnation to show his justice.  This is a complete misunderstanding of the terms election and predestination as used by the Biblical authors.  A careful reading of those authors reveals that these terms are used almost exclusively when the audience in question is composed to a large degree of Gentile converts to Christianity.  What was the first problem confronted by the early Church?  As early as Acts chapter 6 we have a conflict arising between the Christians of Jewish and Greek background revolving around the relative status of the two groups.  Specifically, the question was just how Jewish Gentile converts had to become.  Did they have to adopt Jewish cultural and religious customs, or not?  This was the topic of discussion at the very first ecumenical council held in Jerusalem and recorded in Acts chapter 15.  The Biblical authors used the concepts of election and predestination to assure their Gentile audience that from before time and forever, in the eternal counsels of God, their need of a Savior was anticipated and planned for, no less than was the Jews’.  Thus, even though they were looked down upon by their Jewish brethren, the Gentile converts were coequal in God’s eyes, and were full members of the Church along with those of Jewish heritage.  These terms have nothing to do with individuals; they have to do with groups or categories of people.  This is in keeping with Jesus’ own use of the term “elect,” that it refers to all those people who respond to God’s grace with obedience to himself as Lord and a consequent humility toward one’s fellow man.

Calvin can be somewhat excused for arguing for unconditional election, in that he was arguing for God’s sovereignty in opposition to the Roman dogma of the church and pope’s possession of the keys to heaven.  He overstated his case in order to counteract over a millennium of ecclesiastical overreaching and doctrinal error.  I understand his intent and zeal, but his followers and he were in total error when it comes to understanding these terms in the context of their authorship and audience.

 

L – Limited Atonement

How can it be that Jesus died for the sins of the whole world, yet by his own admission, not all are saved?  If there is one question that separates Christians, it is this: how do you explain how grace is limited to some and not available to all?  Romans state that it’s a matter of which church you’re a member of; their church being the only valid one.  Calvinists say it’s a matter of God’s caprice; see above.  Baptists and fundies say it’s a matter of not having too much fun; it’s the sin you avoid.  Dispensationalists say it’s a matter of knowing times and dates, as per Tim LaHaye.  To resolve this dilemma one must read the Bible; all of it.  Paul, and the author of the letter to the Hebrews, make a distinction between justification and salvation, an important difference.  Paul’s passages are found in Romans 5:9,10, Romans 10:9,10, and I Timothy 4:10.  See also Hebrews 9:28.  That is, we are justified or forgiven because of the death of Christ, which Scripture affirms as being for the “whole world.”  There was a judgment passed on sin, and it took place on Good Friday.  I posit that as of that day, and indeed for all time, as God is outside of time, all humanity stood justified or forgiven for all sin.  Our sins will never be brought up to condemn us, as they are covered by the sinless blood of Jesus.  As of Good Friday, all humanity, of all races and religions and in all times and places, have been placed “in Christ” from a legal or forensic perspective.  This is not a universalistic statement, however, because in addition to being justified by Christ’s death, Paul says we must be saved by his life.  Thus we conclude that there are two judgments, not one.  The second judgment, which is described in Matthew 25 and Revelation 20, doesn’t involve sin at all, but rather the good we did not do, having already been justified.  Like in the parable of the wedding feast where someone is invited but chooses to refuse the wedding garments freely offered to him by the host, we can be justified and in Christ legally, but if Christ is not in us effectually through his risen life, we are not saved from this second and final judgment.  God’s will is that there be a complete and unlimited interpenetration of his Son and the individual believer; we in him legally, he in us effectually.

This explains how grace is limited.  It is not limited in the sense of Christ’s sacrifice.  It’s only limited by us in terms of our willingness to cede our will to the risen Christ in the person of the Holy Spirit and let him bear positive fruit through us.  For Calvin to say that the blood of Christ is somehow limited in its efficacy is to criticize God and his plan of redemption.  Any limits it encounters are the result of our deliberate refusal to cooperate with his plan which is both accessible to people yet honoring of their will.  Jesus is Savior of all, but not Lord of all.  To be saved is to have him as both.

 

I – Irresistible Grace

The idea here is that those who are chosen for salvation can do nothing to frustrate God’s sovereign choice of them for redemption.  Just as the damned cannot change their fate, neither can the saved.  This argument is a corollary to unconditional election, similarly stating that God’s sovereign election of a person to salvation leaves no room for human resistance.  While the doctrine of unconditional election focuses on God’s sovereign role, this doctrine focuses on man’s role, or lack of same.  It is inserted into the Calvinist creed to do two things; first, to make a cute word like TULIP, as it’s somewhat redundant, and secondly, to support prior statement of God’s sovereign rule.  Should the former doctrine prove untenable or overreaching, then this corollary will of necessity fall.  See prior arguments.

 

P – Perseverance of the Saints

Of the “five pillars” of Calvinism, this notion has the least warrant in Holy Scripture.  This doctrine states that “once saved, always saved” and all believers who are truly redeemed shall have “eternal security.”  Despite the fact that this rumination is explicitly refuted by Matthew 12:43-45, Hebrews 6:4-12, 2 Peter 1:10, and 2 Peter 2:20-22, it is nevertheless one of the most widely promoted falsehoods of Calvinist doctrine.  It precludes the possibility and necessity of any sort of human response to God’s grace in Jesus Christ.  Further, it would fulfill Arminius’ critique that this would make God the author of evil.

Just as Luther came up with 95 things that seemed debatable about indulgences, I offer these points to put classical Calvinist thinking in some sort of Biblical and rational context.  They all arise from the fundamental error of taking a document inspired by a Jewish God, and written by Jewish authors for a predominantly Jewish audience, being largely figurative, integrative, and synthetic, and reading it from a literal, individualistic, and analytical Greek or Western point of view.  Such an approach violates every tenet of proper exegesis, and results in a gross distortion of the propositional truth contained therein.  The fruit of Calvinist thinking is bitter indeed.  It is repulsive to the mind, enervating to the heart, and destructive to the spread of the Gospel.  As Will Durant writes,

… we shall always find it hard to love the man who darkened the human soul with the most absurd and blasphemous conception of God in all the long and honored history of nonsense.”

 

Why Do I Feel Guilty?

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We live in a moral universe.

If we didn’t there would be no such thing as guilt; nothing would matter.

But because we live in a such a universe, thoughts and actions count.

The cost of meaning is the possibility of failure.

The reason we feel guilty is because we are guilty.

We do not belong to ourselves, we belong to somebody else.

When a moral inventory is taken, we fall short, hence our guilt.

There will be an accounting at some point.

What is most peoples’ reaction to this fact?

They run around, trying to find something that they do well and others do poorly to emphasize.

And they blame shift.

“The woman you gave me, gave me to eat, and I ate.”

It’s your fault, it’s her fault, but it’s not my fault.

The only solution?  To confess your guilt, and give it to somebody who has no guilt of their own.

Who is that?  Jesus of Nazareth.  He has already taken your guilt, placed it in his own account, and paid for it.

This was done 2,000 years ago, but many don’t realize it.  When you do, it’s the most wonderful realization in the world.

What Does God Want?

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The one point the Church needs to be clearest on appears to be the point on which it is the most vague: what does God want?  And nor is it vague by intention; denominations strive to be precise on this matter, it’s just that they disagree.  An impartial observer who wanted to investigate the claims of Christ would have no trouble finding sincerity on the part of his followers, just consistency.  So how about we take a step back and see if there cannot be some sort of simplification and distillation of the Biblical record to answer that most important question: what does God want?

 

The Biblical record doesn’t comprise more than two chapters before trouble develops between God and his creature, man.  It is said that as a result of the Fall, there is enmity between God and man; God is mad at us, and we are mad at God.  The first sign of this enmity was that when God was looking for man during his walk in the cool of the day, man was ashamed and hid himself.  Thus, the prevailing reaction most people have to God, even to this day, is the desire to flee and hide.

 

Now the Bible is clear as well that God would undertake steps to deal with his enmity towards us first through the Law and then through a Son, the Messiah.  The life and ministry of Jesus of Nazareth was focused on his sacrificial death on the Cross on Good Friday.  He came not to teach, but to die, that his Father’s enmity toward the human race might be expiated through a substitutionary atonement.  Having submitted to this sacrificial death, during which all the accumulated sins of humanity were placed on him, Jesus declared all humanity justified; forensically guiltless and rehabilitated in his Father’s eyes.  Once again, God walks in his creation, looking to have fellowship with his sons and daughters, you and me.

 

This scenario leaves one important point untouched, however, and that is the enmity we feel towards God.  We still feel the shame of nakedness in front of God, and even though the Gospel declares our relationship restored, we will have none of it.  We continue to run from him and hide whenever he approaches.  This sense of nakedness before God, the resulting shame and tendency toward flight are thus the keys to answering the question: “What does God want?”  Clearly, what he wants is for us to realize that we’ve already been justified and to stop running away.  Thus, what he wants is not a positive contribution, a “work” in the sense of a Pelagian effort that springs from our own virtue, but a negative, the cessation of something that springs from our own false perception.

 

Now you may well say, “I don’t run from God.  He doesn’t scare me.”  Yet think of the ways we do run.  We hear him in the Garden no less than Adam, as we watch friends and neighbors change for the better when they encounter Christ.  And those very friends tell us of a God who has already forgiven us, and who does not judge us for our sins.  Yet what do we say in reply?  We drag up all our offenses against God and man, and act as if they are still in between us.  We postpone our divine encounter until we can stop them on our own, something that will never happen.  Or we deny that we’ve done wrong at all, saying that these things are fine and of no consequence to God or ourselves.  Both these responses are wrong.  The Biblical record says that we are justified by Christ’s death, but we are saved by his life.  We will not be judged for our sins; they have been atoned for on Good Friday.  What we will be judged for, however, is fruitlessness.  Having already been forgiven by God, do we stop running, walk with him, and let the Spirit that animated his Son dwell in us as well so that fruit might be born in a lost and broken world?

 

So we see that it is possible to be clear on this question of what God really wants.  And it’s not something we do, a work, but something we stop doing, a rest.  A rest from justifying ourselves by denying moral law, or from striving to make ourselves moral without the aid of the Spirit of Jesus.  We are born as responsible moral agents, and at the age of majority are challenged by the Gospel to see how we will react.  Will we deny the Biblical record and claim we have no sin, or the ability to stop sinning on our own?  Or will we simply say, “I am not at enmity with God any more.  If he’s not mad at me, then I’m not mad at him.  When I hear him walking in my life, I will not run, I will not hide, because I’m no longer naked.  I’m clothed with the righteousness of Christ, and I trust that the Spirit will not bring me ruin but success.

 

The Number 2

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Much is made of Biblical numerology, and not without reason; the numbers 3, 7, 12 and 40 seem to recur with purpose and regularity throughout the Scriptures.  I would argue, however, that one cannot understand the Bible and the God who caused it to be written without an appreciation for the number 2.  Let me explain.

 

The first thing you notice about the Bible is its inherent redundancy.  It seems as though God does everything twice!  Look.  Old testament, new testament; two.  These equate with the two covenants, first with Abraham, then with Jesus.  Two temples, the one made of stone, then the flesh and bones of Jesus.  Each sacrament has its own prior adumbrations as well, first the water of the Red Sea, which points to baptism, and then the Passover lamb, which finds its perfection in the Cross and the Eucharist.  Even the bad stuff seems to have a precursor, with the destruction of the temple and deportation of the Jews, a foretaste of the final judgment of humanity.

 

In each case we see the same pattern.  There is an imperfect, temporary, physical presentation, which presages a later, perfect, permanent, spiritual reality.  It is as if God wants to prepare us for the latter, so that we might have both warning and hope, and be thoroughly prepared.  Two.  Twice.  As Joseph says in Genesis 41:32, “The reason the dream was given to Pharaoh in two forms is that the matter has been firmly decided by God, and God will do it soon.”

 

Then, within the words of the Bible itself, we find Hebrew poetry.  It is characterized not by rhyme, but by repetition, or parallelism.  Being the only form of poetry that translates without loss, we find that God always says things twice.  Two, again.  Whether it be warning or promise, God wants us to know that  the matter has been firmly decided, and he will do it soon.

 

The bilateral symmetry of the cosmos is further demonstrated when we leave the form of the Scriptures and start to dwell upon the theology they reveal.  There is the kingdom of God, and there is creation.  Spiritual and physical.  There are two actors, God and man.  God and man are doing swell at the beginning, but are soon at enmity.  Man has two problems: God’s mad at him, and he’s mad at God.  This produces two moral dilemmas on man’s part: guilt and powerlessness.  These two problems lead in turn to two judgments, the first over sin on Good Friday, and the second over fruitlessness at the end of time, as per Matthew 25 and Revelation 20.  God’s solutions, needless to say, are also two in number: the aforementioned Good Friday and Pentecost.  For God’s enmity with man and our resultant guilt we have the death of the sinless Son of God, to cover our sins with his blood, and place us, legally, in his position of rectitude.  Having thus been justified from God’s perspective, we also need ministry from our perspective.  To eradicate the enmity we feel toward God, we need an infusion from without.  This is the role of the Holy Spirit, who comes in and fills the void left when our spirit was attenuated in the Fall.  Although we can’t take credit for this new life, it is nevertheless up to us to cease striving and rebelling, and to let the Spirit have his way with us, that our behavior might conform to and reflect our legal status.  We have been placed in Christ forensically, but Christ is to be placed in us effectually as well.

 

Two solutions, and guess what, two sacraments.  Just as we are justified once, so are we to celebrate that fact through the one baptism commanded by Christ.  And here we see the desirability of child baptism, for what is it except for the celebration of something done for us by another, with no agency or effort on our part?  Just as an infant child is incapable of willful effort one way or the other, and may even be asleep, he stands justified by the act of Christ’s death on the cross 2,000 years ago.  Just as that action is perfect and needs no repetition, so too our baptism is a one-time act that need not and should never be repeated.  Then, what of our powerlessness?  Even the greatest of saints knows the experience of needing a new infusion of power from above.  As the Scriptures record, the apostles themselves were “filled with the Holy Spirit” time and again.  So for the on-going drama of life, we need a sacrament that is repeatable, and which corresponds with our constant need of divine help.  Thus, communion is a request that the Spirit of Jesus dwell within us, no less than the bread and wine do, in a literal, deliberate sense.  Two actors, two problems, two solutions, and two sacraments, two points of contact with divine power.  Here’s a graphic representation of my point:

Moral Actor Problem Judgment Solution Christ’s Role Sacrament
God Enmity with Man On Sin Death on the Cross Savior Baptism
Man Enmity with God On Fruitlessness Pentecost Lord Eucharist / Confirmation

 

So what can we conclude from all this?  Both theoretical lessons and practical applications.  Regarding theory, I would, of course, make two points.  First, God is a God of simplicity.  He suits his solutions to the situation with an elegant economy that suggests his only goal is to reach us and help us succeed.  Secondly, we should beware of any belief or practice that stands alone.  If there is not a spiritual, perfect counterpart to our thought or action, we should be warned that we might in fact be infatuated with a prior, physical, transitory adumbration, and not the perfect, final, permanent reality.  This is why God saw fit to destroy the Jewish temple after the body of Christ had rendered it obsolete and a snare.

 

In terms of practical application, I would invoke the cliché that says there are only two kinds of people in the world.  How so?  There are two thieves crucified with Jesus!  They represent the only two responses that the death and life of Jesus can command.  The first is flippant and incredulous, “Aren’t you the Christ?  Save yourself and us!”  He personifies those in every age who hear the Gospel and choose to reserve the right to determine moral authority unto themselves.  The second is the first man’s opposite in every way.  “Don’t you fear God, since you are under the same sentence?  We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve.  But this man has done nothing wrong.  Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”  This man is honest about himself, and believing regarding Jesus.  He has ceded his role as moral arbiter, and has in fact repudiated that right.  Between the two men, we have the sum total of human response to the Gospel.  The computer age has shown that the most effective and efficient way to compute, store and transmit data is through the use of bits; ones or zeros.  Either positive or nothing.  There or not there.  Analogue is fine for wrist watches and home audio, but when it comes down to ultimate reliability and parsimony, we are squarely in the digital age.  As with information, so with theology.  As Jesus says, you’re either for or against him, there’s no third way.  The question is not whether or not you’re a thief; any religion can tell you that you are.  The question is which thief are you?

 

So don’t make things more complicated than they really are, and never accuse God of not telling you what’s coming and what’s really important!  He’s done it all, if we’re simple enough to count to two.

Event 1                                                        Event 2

Old Covenant – Genesis 15                      New Covenant – Mt 26 etc.

Law                                                              Grace

Passover Lamb                                          Jesus

Red Sea                                                       Baptism

Jonah in fish 3 days                                 Jesus in Earth 3 days

Circumcision to enter promised land  Repentance to enter KOG

Babel to confuse speech                         Tongues to restore communication

Elijah                                                         John the Baptist

Israel                                                         Church

Noah and a promise- Genesis 8:21     Isaiah 54:9 and a promise

Manna                                                      Feeding of the multitudes

 

Redemption: Justification and Salvation Both

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Being a retired priest, I have the luxury of watching the Church from a safe distance and gaining some perspective on her travails.  What I see makes me sometimes wish I did not have said luxury and perspective, as what presents itself is troubling, and getting no better with time.  Although people are forever trying new packaging and forms for Christian life and worship, I get the sense that the problem lies not in the presentation, but rather in the substance, of our message.  Like Stephen on his way to getting stoned, let’s quickly review sacred history up to the present time, and see how we got into this mess.

 

Christianity in the West was a single franchise monopoly until the 16th century.  Yes, the Eastern Church broke off, and there have always been Middle Eastern variants of Christianity that should be recognized, but in the West, it was Rome or nothing until Martin and John got involved.  What ensued over the next 100 years, almost to the year, was a contest of hearts, minds and pens that still defies easy analysis LO these many years later.  Rome insisted that human tradition can and should be used to clarify Scripture in the formation of doctrine.  The good part of this is that their very imaginative interpretations of Holy Writ have allowed them to continue to talk about behavior and authority up to the present day.  They may not be right, but at least they maintain a semblance of order in their house.  And, it’s a big house.  As Stalin observed, “Quantity has a quality all of its own.”  The bad part is that they’ve had to cover for some pretty bad decisions in the past, like the celibate priesthood, and they are now paying a very real price for their approach to Scripture.

 

Lest we Protestants gloat over Rome’s troubles, however, we have many of our own.  No, we don’t embrace Pelagius in our soteriology; our God is sovereign and cannot be manipulated by human agency.  But then again, you ask a Protestant why behavior and authority matter, and if the person you’re asking is honest to his own Reformed traditions, they won’t be able to tell you.  The result?  The mainline Protestant denominations, each and every one, are beset by those who, in the words of Oswald Chambers, are saying, “Christ died for me, I go Scot free.”  The fights about sexual mores and political imperatives have driven the life, and the people, out of these churches in a comprehensive fashion.  If you want to witness fiscal, moral and theological irrelevance, just attend a mainline Protestant church.

 

So those of us with a little time on our hands have traditionally opted for one of two choices: wring our hands and give up, or takes sides and enter a fray that has yet to impress the non-Christian world as being at all important.  Being a little younger than most retirees, I was involved in a serious auto accident, I’ve chosen a third course, and that is to go back and see if there isn’t something the antagonists are missing that really is wrong with our message at its very core.  Forget packaging, forget names; what are we really saying about God and the human condition, and is it right?

 

I was able to confirm my suspicions and crystallize my own response after a visit to the home of a fellow cleric.  This man is a little more senior than I, and he views my efforts at theologizing with a combination of avuncular amusement and genuine horror.  I had commented that Paul makes a distinction between justification and salvation, and added that I felt this point was lost on most commentators.  The priest in question leapt from his chair and thrust a copy of N.T. Wright’s Justification: God’s Plan and Paul’s Vision into my hands.  I am not the only one, he seemed to be saying.  After reading the book, I can understand why he thought it was apropos.  Bishop Wright does in fact point out that Paul draws a distinction between the two concepts, and goes on to define justification in a most satisfactory way.  Where I would depart from his painstakingly thorough and labored analysis, however, is the way he defines salvation.  It’s only through an understanding of this second idea, and how it differs from justification, that really allows us to understand the mechanism of redemption.

 

I’m not focusing on this seemingly minute point in order to join the ranks of theologians and churchmen over the ages who feel that parsing words more finely somehow reveals more truth and insight into the mind of God.  Nor am I, in Wright’s own words, offering the scorpion of scholarly infighting instead of the fish of the Gospel.  After my injury I don’t have the will or energy to do that, which may be just why God allowed me to be in that car in the first place.  What I propose instead is to apply the same scrutiny to Paul’s writing that Antoine de St. Exupery applied to his biplane, when he observed that “Perfection is achieved not when there’s nothing more to add, but when there’s nothing more to take away.”

 

Suffice it to say that most commentators either gloss over the verses where Paul contrasts justification and salvation, or conclude that they refer to the same thing from different perspectives.  Rather than do what others do in this regard, I propose we look at two verses that hold them in stark contrast, and see if we can discern what Paul may be trying to say.  In Romans 5:9,10 we read:

 

“Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him!  For if, when we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!”

 

Further, in Romans 10:9,10 we find:

 

“That if you confess with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.  For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved.”

 

Now the first temptation is to say that Paul is simply indulging in that time-honored practice of Hebrew parallelism, where one statement is repeated in a different manner to have poetic impact.  Resist the temptation.  Give him more credit.  Let us assume that he wrote what he wrote for a reason, and wasn’t being redundant for the sake of literary form.  What I propose is that Paul is separating two things that must be kept separate, or else we will lose insight into how God redeems mankind.

 

First, Paul says that something happened on one day, Good Friday, that he calls justification, where all humanity was declared innocent in God’s eyes, and placed in Jesus’ legal position of righteousness.  The Rt. Rev. Dr. Wright is adamant on this definition of justification, and I agree.  To Paul it means being found by the divine court to be in a position of righteousness and legal probity exactly like that of Jesus Christ.  We’re not any different, but our legal standing is updated to reflect Christ’s righteousness, not our own. Donald Bloesch seems to agree:

 

“Something happened for our salvation in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ independent of our belief or response.  Reconciliation and redemption are an accomplished fact, an objective reality that is not affected by the subjective attitude of man…The atonement of Jesus Christ signifies a transformation of the human situation, and not simply the possibility of a future salvation.”

 

Now I would clean up Donald’s soteriological nomenclature somewhat, but my point abides: on Good Friday Christ died for all humanity, independent of time, our awareness, or our ability to respond.  All are placed “in Christ,” whether they know it or not, and are justified.  As Scripture boldly proclaims, Christ died for the sins of the whole world.  There is nothing limited or imperfect about the shed blood of the sinless Son of God.  Is that the last word on man’s redemption?  No, but it is the first word.  God is no longer at enmity with us.

 

The second word God speaks is that of salvation, to Paul an entirely different kettle of fish.  It is, according to John the Baptist, Jesus, John the apostle, and of course Paul, deliverance from a coming wrath reserved for those do not value, but rather squander, their justification.  It’s not too much to say that whereas both Rome and Geneva say people are lost until they are saved, variously through ritual observance or divine election, a careful reading of Paul suggests that we’re in fact saved until we’re lost; a very different thing!  And Paul’s not the only one saying this.  What we read in many parables, in Hebrews chapters 4 and 6, and throughout that entire, pesky, book of James, is that we can indeed fall out of a position of favor with God.  Further, Jesus himself says in John 15:2 that the branches that are cut off and burned are those originally “in me.”  Although it is treading on the inner counsels of God, I would venture that at the age of majority, people become subject to the temptation to declare themselves moral free agents, and become subject to this coming, second judgment.  Jews and Christians both have sensed this reality, and have commemorated the occasion with rites to confirm a right decision.  What each is saying is, “We are no longer at enmity with God, and therefore trust him to control our lives.”  This, as both experience and the Bible suggest, is anything but universal.

 

Looking at redemption as a two-phase project makes perfect sense.  There are two actors, God and man.  God and man are doing swell at the beginning, but are soon at enmity.  Man has two problems: God’s mad at him, and he’s mad at God.  This produces two moral dilemmas on man’s part: guilt and powerlessness.  God’s solutions, needless to say, are also two in number: Good Friday and Pentecost.  For God’s enmity with man and our resultant guilt we have the death of the sinless Son of God, to cover our sins with his blood, and place us, legally, in his position of rectitude.  Having thus been justified from God’s perspective, we also need ministry from ours.  To eradicate the enmity we feel toward God, we need an infusion from without.  This is the role of the Holy Spirit, who comes in and fills the void left when our spirit was attenuated in the Fall.  Although we can’t take credit for this new life, it is nevertheless up to us to cease striving and rebelling, and to let the Spirit have his way with us, that our behavior might conform to and reflect our legal status.

 

Two solutions, and guess what, two sacraments.  Just as we are justified once, so are we to celebrate that fact through the one baptism commanded by Christ.  And here we see the desirability of child baptism, for what is it except for the celebration of something done for us by another, with no agency or effort on our part?  Just as an infant child is incapable of willful effort one way or the other, and may even be asleep, he stands justified by the act of Christ’s death on the cross 2,000 years ago.  Just as that action is perfect and needs no repetition, so too our baptism is a one-time act that need not and should never be repeated.  Then, what of our powerlessness?  Even the greatest of saints knows the experience of needing a new infusion of power from above.  As the Scriptures record, the apostles themselves were “filled with the Holy Spirit” time and again.  So for the on-going drama of life, we need a sacrament that is repeatable, and which corresponds with our constant need of divine help.  Thus, communion is a request that the Spirit of Jesus dwell within us, no less than the bread and wine do, in a literal, deliberate sense.  Two actors, two problems, two solutions, and two sacraments, two points of contact with divine power.

So what can we conclude from all this?  Both theoretical lessons and practical applications.  Regarding theory, I would, of course, make two points.  First, God is a God of simplicity.  He suits his solutions to the situation with an elegant economy that suggests his only goal is to reach us and help us succeed.  Secondly, we should beware of any belief or practice that stands alone.  If there is not a spiritual, perfect counterpart to our thought or action, we should be warned that we might in fact be infatuated with a prior, physical, transitory adumbration, and not the perfect, final, permanent reality.  This is why God saw fit to destroy the Jewish temple after the body of Christ had rendered it obsolete and a snare.

 

In terms of practical application, I would invoke the cliché that says there are only two kinds of people in the world.  How so?  There are two thieves crucified with Jesus!  They represent the only two responses that the death and life of Jesus can command.  The first is flippant and incredulous, “Aren’t you the Christ?  Save yourself and us!”  He personifies those in every age who hear the Gospel and choose to reserve the right to determine moral authority unto themselves.  The second is the first man’s opposite in every way.  “Don’t you fear God, since you are under the same sentence?  We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve.  But this man has done nothing wrong.  Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”  This man is honest about himself, and credulous regarding Jesus.  He has ceded his role as moral arbiter, and has in fact repudiated that right as he formerly exercised it.  Between the two men, we have the sum total of human response to the Gospel.  The computer age has shown that the most effective and efficient way to compute, store and transmit data is through the use of bits; 1’s or zeros.  Either positive or nothing.  There or not there.  Analogue is fine for wrist watches, speedometers and home audio, but when it comes down to ultimate reliability and parsimony, we are squarely in the digital age.  As with information, so with theology.  As Jesus says, you’re either for or against him, there’s no third way.  The question is not whether or not you’re a thief; any religion can tell you that you are.  The question is which thief are you?

 

At this point those in the Reformed tradition throw up their hands and say the only explanation for the success of some and the failure of others must be predestination and divine election.  In doing so, however, they show themselves to be more faithful to the traditions of John Calvin and the Synod of Dort than they do to Scripture, which they pretend to revere.  Aren’t most references to election and predestination spoken, whether by Paul or Peter, to gentile audiences, in order to stress God’s knowledge of their need and their inclusion in the person of a Jewish Messiah?  And are they not references to categories of people, and not as we in the West in the tradition of Aristotle like to think, to individuals?  Election and predestination, as used in the Bible, refer to God’s preordained plan of redemption, and the fact that some would submit to that plan, while others would not.  Never does it refer to God’s arbitrary choice of some for salvation and some for damnation as individuals.  Have not those in the Reformed tradition demanded allegiance to John Calvin over and above the Bible?  No less an authority than Will Durant characterizes Calvin as having “darkened the human soul with the most absurd and blasphemous conception of God in all the long and honored history of nonsense.”

 

So what is God’s solution to the problem of our lack of power?  Like our moral guilt, our lack of power is solved by Jesus Christ.  Not by his death, but rather, as Paul says, by his life.  Whether this refers to the life conferred upon Christ after his death or that same life poured out upon the Church as of the Ascension and Pentecost is immaterial.  What is germane is that God intends to make us righteous in behavioral fact as well as legally.  The only way to do this is to offer the Spirit, who can come into the heart of the Christian, to become the motive force for a new existence, based upon Christ and not our sinful selves.  Thus, not only are we in Christ as of Good Friday, Christ is also potentially in us as of Pentecost.  This mutual interpenetration is what God intends for all his children; anything else is an abridgement of the divine plan for redemption.

 

Unlike justification, salvation can be resisted, not because it requires a work, but the cessation of a work: our relinquishment of our will, of control over our lives.  We have a role to play, but unlike Pelagius’ approach, that role is negative and cannot be credited as emanating from our own power or nature.  All credit goes to the Spirit who does these wonders in us, but that same Spirit does not brook competition, and will not persist if we make too many inroads into his hegemony.  All talk of “eternal security” and “once saved, always saved” does not stand up to the light of Scripture.  Not only are these concepts not Biblical, they are actively harmful to the mission of the Church.  The only unforgivable sin, we are told, is blaspheming the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit wrote the Bible, and to argue with its contents, whether by word or deed, is to frustrate the redemption bought by the Father at such great cost.  To claim otherwise is to mislead people regarding both our human situation and the heart of God.

 

Let me see if I can make this more clear with a table:

 

Phase of Redemption Divine Event Corresponding Sacrament Christ’s Role Our Role Relative Position Duration Moral Position
Justification Good Friday Baptism Savior Passive We in Christ One Time God no longer at enmity with us
Salvation Easter/Pentecost Holy Communion/

Confirmation

Lord Negative Christ in us On-Going We no longer at enmity with God

 

Note the many advantages to making, or discovering, this Pauline distinction:

 

  1. First of all, you’re suddenly faithful to the entire Biblical revelation.  You don’t have to say you’re in favor of this portion of Scripture over another.  You can read it all, believe it all, and obey it all with none of the selectivity that characterizes today’s Church.  We’re saved by grace through faith, but faith takes on new virility.  It’s not intellectual assent to a theoretical proposition, it’s submission to a superior authority, as illustrated by the Roman centurion in Matthew 8.  God does it all, but there is a role for us, albeit a negative one.  Behavior counts, because although you can’t be saved through works, you can, as David Chilton says, be damned by them.
  2. Secondly, there’s a pastoral advantage.  For the first time, you can engage in logical talk with people, Christians and non-, about the universal experience of the vicious circle of repentance, failure, guilt and back-sliding in moral endeavor.  There’s a reason all aspire to morality, and an equally good reason why we all fail.  Failure need not lead us to reject morality, as so many do, but rather to shift the basis for our moral inspiration away from ourselves to the life of Jesus in us.
  3. Thirdly, all this is good for God’s reputation.  He doesn’t deal with problems is a fragmentary of incomplete way.  God deals not just in legality, but also in reality.  He doesn’t demand of us what he doesn’t make possible through the death and life of his own Son, both.
  4. Finally, such thinking can clean up any discrepancy between Roman and Protestant, to say nothing of the fragmented nature of the latter body.  Rome can hereby escape from the clutches of Pelagius, a much-needed change, and place the responsibility for redemption where it belongs: with Christ.  Geneva, too, can breathe easier.  Divine election and predestination are no longer the deformed individual phenomena we’ve always assumed in the West, and Protestants can talk about authority and behavior for the first time in almost 500 years.

 

Perhaps all this confusion comes from the titles we give Jesus.  As Savior, he justifies and cleanses us from sin.  As Lord, he saves from the coming wrath.  It sounds backwards, but this is the way it makes sense.  Perhaps the confusion is also due to the arrogance of our times.  How could Paul, simple Jew that he was, outsmart us with all our scholarship and philosophical sophistication?  It could be that those very things that we are so proud of are what are keeping us from hearing what he was actually trying to say to us.  Whether Roman or Protestant, we add our own traditions, heroes and shibboleths until the power and simplicity of the Gospel are lost.  Until our reading becomes as careful as Paul’s writing, we’ll be condemned to centuries of acrimonious debate while a waiting world looks on, unimpressed.  Maybe if theologians contemplated biplanes as opposed to jumbo jets, the Church would be able to take flight as God intends.

 

Reduced to its essence, the job of the Church is to understand this mechanism of redemption, and to share that knowledge with a rebellious and hurting world.  To the extent that we are imperfect in our understanding ourselves, we will necessarily be unable to fulfill that commission.  As Francois de Malherbe said to his preacher after a particularly poor sermon, “Improve your style, monsieur!  You have disgusted me with the joys of heaven.”  Just so.