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May 30
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Strictly Stock

By | Cleric Comments | No Comments

N.A.S.C.A.R. held its first race in 1947, and, in the following five decades, the stock car series saw consistent and sometimes spectacular growth. It peaked in the 1990s, when tickets were often in short supply and promoters were clamoring to secure more tracks and race dates. By any measure, N.A.S.C.A.R. was a kingdom, complete with a self-styled king: Richard Petty, who after his two hundredth victory at the 1984 Daytona 500—attended in style by Ronald Reagan—retired and became the series’ unofficial ambassador. But those were the glory days. N.A.S.C.A.R.’s kingdom is losing ground. Its decline has been slow, but steady, both in attendance and television viewership. It’s not uncommon now for track owners to paint grandstand seats different colors, making it hard to discern that many are empty. Explanations for the decline abound, and the series hasn’t yet devised a way to boost N.A.S.C.A.R.’s popularity. But it’s clearly worried about the future.

While N.A.S.C.A.R. higher-ups fret about their fate, it’s worth recalling that existential fear about everything else was in large part what allowed the sport to become popular in the first place. It’s often said that modern life is characterized by guilt about the past, boredom with the present, and anxiety about the future; a thorough-going existential malaise. At one time N.A.S.C.A.R. provided relief from all that. It was truly a Sabbath activity. Go to church Sunday morning? Yes. But go to the race or vegetate in front of the TV afterwards? Yes, too. If you picked the right driver, church and racing were complementary exercises. N.A.S.C.A.R.’s declining popularity no doubt corresponds with the fact that for many people that is no longer true. But the sport can still be a soothing balm in a country marked by pervasive ennui. We must examine its history, its present state, and look forward to its future to recover its healing powers.

Let’s first consider the past. N.A.S.C.A.R. was originally a Southern sport. Some of the first cars were high performance vehicles developed by moonshiners to outrun federal revenuers. Junior Johnson, an early champion and later team owner, actually did time for distilling illegal alcohol. He made the mistake of starting his fire too late during the night, so that, by daybreak, it was still smoking and was spotted by an ever-vigilant representative of just taxation. Stories like these have persuaded many people that N.A.S.C.A.R. is just too Southern for their taste. To remedy that perception—and to sever the series from its past—N.A.S.C.A.R. has started to act like, well, Yankees. That has meant adopting Yankee moral sensibilities in areas pertaining to race relations, equality of the sexes, and environmental sensitivity.

N.A.S.C.A.R. has made a show of welcoming black drivers in recent years, with the result that there is precisely one black person driving in the top division, Bubba Wallace. He had middling results until the Fall 2021 Talladega race, when he was in the lead and the race was red-flagged for rain. The series, rather than wait out the storm, called the race. It had gone just over half distance, so there was no sense in which rules were stretched, and everybody, to a man, seemed happy with the result. Wallace became the second black man to win at N.A.S.C.A.R., the first being Wendell Scott in 1963. N.A.S.C.A.R. has also attempted to improve race relations by banning the flying of Confederate flags, which were once ubiquitous at every race and prominent on the trucks and mobile homes of the unreconstructed. N.A.S.C.A.R. has recently welcomed the Mexican driver Daniel Suarez who surprised everybody by doing well at the Bristol dirt race. The slippery clay, the surface upon which N.A.S.C.A.R. was born, allowed Suarez to show some of his natural talent by beating a lot of the gringos who normally dominate because they have more and better engineers. The vast majority of drivers, however, are still good ol’ boys from the lower echelons of circle track racing.

Speaking of boys, there have only been a handful of female N.A.S.C.A.R. drivers in the series’ history. Until recently, Danica Patrick was the most prominent one. She got her start on road courses and switched over to N.A.S.C.A.R. after moderate success in IndyCar. In 2008, she did actually win an Indy race in Japan that had devolved into an economy run where her crew guessed correctly on fuel mileage, and she was able to finish with fewer pit stops. When Petty was asked if she would win at N.A.S.C.A.R., he said, “Yes, if the boys don’t show up.” This was somewhat harsh. But regardless of her results, it’s undeniable that she had an appeal to hen-pecked husbands all over the South. Her fiery personality and attractive swagger were a perfect mélange as she stomped down pit lane to confront those who did her wrong on the track. But there aren’t many other successful female drivers. Some, like Petty, think it’s because women lack the ability. Others think it’s a matter of motivation. This may be closer to the truth. Half the people in the stands are women, and that’s where they’d prefer to stay. Women think bigger than men, and risking their lives to beat another driver to the finish line is often too small a reward. It’s no wonder that male drivers do less well as they marry and have children. They’d rather unstrap themselves from the car at the end of the race—and not leave that task to an emergency crew.

N.A.S.C.A.R.’s most absurd attempt at adopting Yankee sensibilities is its newfound environmental sensitivity. The gas intakes on the cars are painted green, and the new fuel is “enhanced” by ethanol alcohol. Of course, N.A.S.C.A.R. crowds have always believed in the use of ethanol, but only in beverages. There is simply no defense of any automotive competition on the basis of environmental protection. Fuel is spilled all over the ground at every pit stop, sometimes catching fire, and the cars guzzle the stuff at prodigious rates. The fans are another story altogether: many drive countless miles in huge vehicles to make race weekend. The only thing green about racing is the amount of money invested in the sport.

But these are the least of N.A.S.C.A.R.’s present woes. These days, there’s a widespread perception that, in its current iteration, N.A.S.C.A.R. has become too predictable, both in terms of race outcome and season championships. The races are long, typically four hundred or five hundred miles. (One even lasts six hundred miles.) A typical telecast runs at three hours. In order to survive, many a husband takes what has become known as the N.A.S.C.A.R. nap: he drinks a few beers, sleeps, and then recovers in time to watch the finish. All races are now divided into three stages, separated by mandatory caution periods. At the end of each stage, points are awarded to the top ten cars, with the idea being that this will incentivize drivers to keep the action going all race long. The caution periods, in which teams with problems can run repairs before rejoining the fray, are supposed to further heighten the drama. At least in theory.

The older points system, which was scribbled on a napkin in a bar by series founder Bill France, Sr., rewarded consistency over sporadic brilliance. The system often resulted in champions being crowned before the last race of the season. Perceiving this as a weakness, the series started aping stick and ball sports, which have a regular season that seeds a playoff season, where everybody starts over at zero. Now, at the end of the regular N.A.S.C.A.R. season, a large number of drivers qualify, and they are whittled down until eventually four compete for the championship in the last race of the year. The highest finisher is champ, no matter where he finishes in the actual race.

Although officials claim plausible deniability, these changes were implemented to make sure that Jimmie Johnson never won another championship. He had the temerity of tying both King Petty and the Prince of Darkness, Dale Earnhardt, Sr., with seven championships. N.A.S.C.A.R. is nothing if not self-aware, and it wants champions to represent something notable. Petty stood for aw-shucks Southern affability. Earnhardt had devil-may-care situational ethics that appealed to those fans recently released on parole. Johnson was a genuinely nice guy—perhaps too nice—although it’s arguable that his seeming invincibility was due to his crew chief’s ability to cheat and not get caught. In any case, he wasn’t to be allowed an eighth championship, and that was that. He realized that he couldn’t beat the system, so he retired from N.A.S.C.A.R.. He’s now in IndyCar, where he seems to be enjoying himself, though with mixed success. With Johnson’s departure, the possibility of new dynasties in N.A.S.C.A.R. has been closed.

Then there’s the very real possibility that N.A.S.C.A.R. is suffering due to the increasing popularity of other forms of motorsports. In the past few years, the Netflix show Formula 1: Drive to Survive has greatly increased American interest in what had heretofore been a rather abstruse form of racing. F1 has historically been almost entirely Eurocentric, with only the rarest intrusions by American builders and drivers. Roger Penske fielded a car in the mid-’70s, only to find tragedy in the death of Mark Donohue, winner of the Indy 500, perennial CanAm champion, and one of the best drivers in the world. Mario Andretti also drove first for Penske and then for Lotus, bringing home the World Driver’s Championship in 1978. Even that achievement, great as it was, did little to endear F1 to the American public. It didn’t help that television coverage of Grand Prix racing was execrable. A few grainy images from Monaco—on the same weekend as the Indy 500, no less—did little to show the drama and appeal of F1. ESPN has changed all that with multi-day coverage of each Grand Prix weekend, first with their own broadcasters and now as purveyors of the truly excellent SKY Sports coverage from England. F1 has the added advantage that the cars can turn right and brake—qualities largely foreign to N.A.S.C.A.R.—but shared with the cars most people drive.

There’s also the fact that the cars on N.A.S.C.A.R. tracks have become too similar to one another. N.A.S.C.A.R. used to be very good at generating brand loyalty, and enmity, amongst what were known as the Big 3, Ford, Chevy and Mopar. Manufacturers were willing to spend on racing programs because racing victory meant performance, and especially in the 60’s and early 70’s, performance drove sales. Cars were easily recognizable by their shape, and manufacturers were even willing to change that shape to better compete on the track. When one style proved to be superior, N.A.S.C.A.R. would step in and either penalize the gifted or gift the stragglers in order to maintain an even playing field. Over the years, however, the interests of safety and close competition have produced cars that are essentially the same, the only difference being the sheet metal of the hood and the general shape of the radiator opening painted on the front fascia. Each engine component must be submitted to N.A.S.C.A.R. for approval, and these components are regulated to the point that they, regardless of provenance, are essentially identical. Engines share mandated fuel injection systems, induction pathways, and engine management systems. To say that a Chevy beat a Ford is at best disingenuous, and everybody knows it. The ability of a particular manufacturer to win on Sunday and sell on Monday has been completely short-circuited.

In addition to the danger that fans might not recognize the make and model of stock car on the track, there is the danger that they will. Manufacturers want to sell cars, so rather than do what they did in the past, where they raced the best thing you could find in the showroom, they now race the models they feel will sell in the largest numbers. The result? N.A.S.C.A.R. is no longer about hotrods, but people movers, transportation modules that are best at getting groceries. Toyota, the only foreign builder admitted to the dance, runs a Camry, hardly the stuff of automotive passion. Toyota has its luxury line, Lexus, but has struggled to create much in the way of a performance image. Its poor grasp of the American mindset is illustrated by the acronym their performance division goes by, TRD, standing for Toyota Racing Development. Or at least we hope so.

This brings us to the biggest problem N.A.S.C.A.R. faces, and that is the fact that only a minority of cars sold in this country are of purely domestic origin. By 2011, only forty-seven percent of cars bought in America were of domestic manufacture; all the rest were foreign. Sure, many foreign makes are built here, but there is no more Big 3. N.A.S.C.A.R. was right to recognize the reality of global manufacturing by admitting Toyota, but this is only a first step. Japan is a player because almost thirty-five percent of the cars bought in the U.S. come from there, but the center of automotive creativity has always been Europe, and no European car races on Sundays in any N.A.S.C.A.R. series.

The scale of the problem that modern, European and Japanese cars present to N.A.S.C.A.R. can only be understood by looking under the sheet metal at what has, until this season at least, been raced in N.A.S.C.A.R.. Until 2022, the cars had engines designed in the 50’s mated to a four speed manual gearbox, five bolt steel wheels, zero ground effect aerodynamics, and antediluvian rear suspension similar to any pickup truck. The result was a car that was difficult to drive and which manifested handling qualities that changed by the minute. Travis Pastrana is a gifted motorcycle and rally car driver of unquestioned skill and daring. He had an extremely brief career driving in N.A.S.C.A.R. for Jack Roush, and I asked him why it was so short. “The cars are crap, really impossible to drive. I prefer a car that can rotate and generate oversteer on exit, and the stock cars could not do that.” The cars may well have been both stock and interesting 70 years ago, but at least until this year, rule ossification and the desire to limit costs has produced a car that was more fossil than fantastic.

 

In the biggest rule change in memory, N.A.S.C.A.R. unveiled what they are calling the NextGen car for 2022. The engines are similar to what they have had up until now, but with uniform, mandated induction and ignition systems and components they are going to deliver similar performance. The gearboxes are now a transaxle containing the gears and differential at the back of the car, allowing for, get ready, independent rear suspension. Gone are the live rear axles and chains welded to the frame to limit axle travel. And five gears, as well! There is a rear diffuser to generate down force at speed, and beautiful single bolt BBS wheels that are wider and taller than previous models. Bigger brakes add to the package, to the extent that a N.A.S.C.A.R. racecar is actually representative of what you might have in your garage. That is, if you have a Porsche 944 from 1982-91.

Excuse perceived cynicism. N.A.S.C.A.R. is to be commended for making their cars, safe, competitive, and of such similar performance as to showcase driver talent. Perhaps one day diversity will pertain to manufacturers rather than progressive clichés.

So what can N.A.S.C.A.R. do? The series has been quick to respond to its perceived weaknesses by introducing stages, playoffs, and requirements that cars be basically identical. These changes, however, have done little, if anything, to stem the ebb of popularity. It’s more likely that these alterations—along with the series’ recent love of faddish politics—are actually contributing to lower ratings and attendance. The randomness of the new rules especially are not so much a source of excitement as much as a source of anxiety about their incoherence. A back-marker can put your hero into the wall with an instant’s indiscretion, and all that your man did all season long can be rendered moot. Twice in recent years my hero, Martin Truex, Jr., has been in the lead toward the end of the last race, only to have a non-contender crash, bring out the yellow, and force him to lose the pit stop derby and get second instead of first. I wanted to throw the remote at the television. N.A.S.C.A.R., it seems, no longer understands itself or the role it has traditionally played in the lives of its fans.

The biggest mistake often made when discussing N.A.S.C.A.R. is the claim that it’s about cars going round and round on a track. It’s actually about much more than that. N.A.S.C.A.R. is the American manifestation of the desire to have color, drama, and meaning in lives which are otherwise rather dull. We live in a country where we are, by and large, protected against the threats that have bedeviled humanity from the earliest times. Because there are no marauding beasts, no massed invasions by hostile neighbors and—until COVID—no mysterious diseases, life in America is predictable, and quite frankly, boring. If we are preserved from risk and danger, we are also preserved from meaning. Men know instinctively they are to protect and provide for their families. If no protection is required, then half their utility has been usurped.

Traditionally, N.A.S.C.A.R. functioned to fill these voids. It allowed fans to satisfy one of our greatest longings, to have meaning derived from a common, tribal identity. On race day, you were not alone, you could comingle with others who were Ford fans, or Chevy fans, or Mopar fans. You were in an intimate league with those who rooted for your driver, any of the forty or so who competed each week. When you saw your man featured on hats, t-shirts, flags, and banners, you had a friend who was closer than a brother, because they shared your excellent taste and judgment. You chose a driver because he embodied the qualities you would like to think you possessed: skill, courage, and a sense of fair play. You wanted your driver to display Christian qualities. If God requires honesty and humility on our part—honesty about our guilt and humility in accepting help from Him—we wanted heroes who are like-minded. When our driver screwed up, as they all do sooner or later, a frank admission of guilt inspired not recriminations but renewed devotion. And when the driver did succeed, he was quick to acknowledge his team, his sponsors, and above all his fans who gave him the privilege of arriving at the finish line first. The “Good Lord” was often included in the thanksgiving.

At the same time, N.A.S.C.A.R. traditionally honored principled conduct. It often seems that God appears to judge us more severely for the good we fail to do than for the bad we in fact do. The most popular N.A.S.C.A.R. drivers are not only virtuous themselves, but they are also enforcers of a consistent and unyielding morality regarding the behavior of others on the track. Drivers who intentionally crash into another driver to further their own fortunes are quickly identified and vilified. Earnhardt was the master at using his “chrome horn,” his bumper, to plant his adversaries into the wall at an opportune time. I once walked three of my young children around Charlotte Speedway on an off day and showed them the large yellow stripe on the turn 4 wall where the malevolent Earnhardt had wrecked the innocent Geoff Bodine in a prior race. “Dale bad, Geoff good,” was the unmistakable message of our field trip. Earnhardt defended his reputation as “The Intimidator” by pointing out that early in his career, it was a case of survival. He once cited an event where he needed money to buy groceries so his wife and young child could eat. On the last turn of the last lap, staring defeat and domestic failure in the face, he proceeded to spin his opponent out and take the prize, perhaps a couple hundred bucks. There was a dispute after the race involving a firearm, I believe, but Earnhardt kept his prize money, and a new methodology and reputation were born.

The people who liked Earnhardt tended to elevate ends over means. They relished taking on the persona of their nefarious hero, and conflicts with other fans at the track were not uncommon. It’s one of the great mysteries of history that Earnhardt could be forgiven for his cold blooded on-track atrocities and be revered as one of the great heroes of the sport after his death. In the Daytona 500 in 2001, the biggest race on the schedule, Earnhardt was slightly behind in the last corner of the last lap of the race. In the lead was Michael Waltrip, trying to win his first Daytona 500. Earnhardt dropped low on the track, actually off the banking, in order to block another car trying to pass and get to Waltrip, who was on Dale’s team. His front wheel hooked on the flat surface and sent his car across the track at full speed into the concrete retaining wall. The impact was so great that Earnhardt’s seat belt tore and his skull separated from the top of his spine, killing him instantly. He died the way he lived.

Earnhardt’s death was no doubt one of the contributing factors in the loss of interest in N.A.S.C.A.R.. In the moral drama that is stock car racing, the good guys need the bad guys in order to stand in relief. With Earnhardt gone the role of villain has largely fallen to Kyle Busch, Denny Hamlin, and Kevin Harvick. Harvick is routinely booed when he wins, which is often, and Busch proffers a mock bow to the crowd when he reaches Victory Lane. Hamlin spun out at Martinsville this year when in the lead, and the crowd cheered gleefully. And if you do a search for famous N.A.S.C.A.R. feuds, Harvick figures in half of them. Though these guys do their best to carry on Earnhardt’s methods, none paints their car black the way he did.

Reviving N.A.S.C.A.R.’s popularity will require a greater emphasis on its moral drama. There’s nothing else like it. Open-wheel competitions, such as F1 and IndyCar, cannot compete, because the danger of contact between open-wheel cars precludes the “trading paint” that is essential to the N.A.S.C.A.R. experience. These forms of motorsport allow the best driver to win. Only in N.A.S.C.A.R. can the best person win.

Still, the series must bear in mind that N.A.S.C.A.R. is essentially about escape. It is a gladiatorial competition that allows us to flee a confusing, increasingly irrational world. The typical fan may have his concerns about the climate, racial rapprochement, and the burning of scarce fossil fuels, but they are low in the hierarchy of things that trouble him. He cares about the world’s problems, but when he’s watching a race, he’s most concerned about whether his tribe and hero will be recognized for the moral virtues he displays on the track each week. Generational guilt about the past or anxieties about the future are not things about which he will tolerate lectures in that moment. For N.A.S.C.A.R. to find renewed popularity, it must leave aside social justice battles. Other organizations can handle those.

But there are a few things the series could add to enhance the fan experience. Specifically, it must recognize the diversity of cars that are being bought in the USA. It’s no longer the Big Three American manufacturers who must compete, even with a token Toyota, but rather all the cars that are to be found in American showrooms should be found on the track. Instead of having junior varsity leagues of trucks and slower sedans, N.A.S.C.A.R. should allow any car sold in America in sufficient numbers to be fielded. The bigger sellers, economy cars, would constitute the lower ranks, and the lower volume performance cars would be the highest, the Cup cars. There should have a minimum sales figure, so that it’s not all Ferraris and Lamborghinis, but they should allow for B.M.W., Mercedes, Jaguar, and the premium brands from Asia to enter the fray. B.M.W. and Mercedes have manufacturing plants in South Carolina and Alabama, respectively, and Hyundai, Volkswagen, Toyota, Nissan, and Kia also have plants in the Deep South. How can you root for an American brand when your family is supported by a foreign one? And for crying out loud, keep the cars, for the most part, stock. Look at the excellent job that I.M.S.A. has done in their sports car series, where the G.T. class consists of an actual chassis carrying an actual, manufacturer-specific engine that can be recognized and bought by any fan with the means. They are festooned with aerodynamic gewgaws, but you can tell what they are. I.M.S.A. has instituted a Balance of Performance system whereby weight and engine penalties punish those who win all the time, so that there is good competition, and everybody has a chance. But the cars are safe, recognizable, and fast. Good for them.

Whatever you do, do not go hybrid or all electric. All that technology is for golf carts, and whatever the redeeming qualities, it does not provide for excitement. Internal combustion engines are the only thing that provides the sounds, sights, and smells that are necessary to make a race a race. F1 has painted itself into a corner by mandating hybrid drive systems, which have proven so complex and so expensive, the series has devolved into a parade of cars whose finishing order is predetermined by the size of the engineering staff back at the plant. How can Haas, the only American team in F1, with their two hundred sixty or so employees compete against Mercedes with their twelve hundred? And what about Formula E, where the cars are all electric? They have to play loud music to mask the fact that the parade on the track is silent. The Pikes Peak International Hill Climb is being invaded by electric cars because they are not affected by altitude. It’s now mandated that these silent cars have noise makers to warn spectators of their approach. One guy had to tape his horn button down to meet the requirement. Please.

And allow for some fisticuffs from time to time. N.A.S.C.A.R. drivers are not averse to physical violence, and this should not only be tolerated but displayed so that the moral character of the on-track infractions can be translated into off-the-track justice. Don’t suppress the conflict, codify it! Define the fair pass, define the dive bomb, quantify contact and institute a penalty system that follows the driver all season long. The fans can relate to this, for we all must deal with cops and insurance companies when we break traffic laws. The great boom in N.A.S.C.A.R. popularity took place after the 1979 Daytona 500 when Donnie Allison and Cale Yarborough banged fenders all the way down the back stretch on the last lap, eventually crashing each other onto the turn three infield. Their dispute continued in the form of an enthusiastic fistfight, where, according to Allison, Yarborough “kept pounding my fist with his nose.” America was watching due to a large snowstorm in the Northeast that kept people inside with nothing else to do. This event, more than any other, launched N.A.S.C.A.R. onto the trajectory it enjoyed for the next thirty years.

We can’t understand N.A.S.C.A.R. until we understand ourselves. What are our needs? Juvenal observed that “the troubled Roman people long for two things: bread and circuses.” In two thousand years, little has changed. This is our circus. N.A.S.C.A.R. is not the real world. It’s a truer, more sharply defined world that we visit when we are sick of the real one.

May 30
0

School Shootings: The Triumph of the Progressive Agenda

By | Cleric Comments | No Comments

During a recent broadcast of an NBA conference playoff game, the game announcer requested a moment of silence on behalf of the people, mostly children, killed in the latest school shooting in Texas. He also implored the crowd to fight for stricter gun control laws. Although it’s tempting to say that stricter laws, including background checks, would prevent such tragedies, it’s actually diverting attention from the real cause, and possible prevention, of school shootings.

 

Although the continued availability of semi-automatic weapons for teenagers is a topic worthy of debate, the fact is that there are many guns out there that are not used to kill innocent people. To say that the means of killing is the cause of killing is specious at best. The cause of such killings is the person who decides on such a course of action, not the means chosen to realize it. In recent memory we have the Oklahoma City bombing of the Murrah Federal Building, which also destroyed a preschool and killed lots of children. The perpetrator didn’t use a gun, he used common substances, fertilizer, oil, and propane, which are of undeniable benefit and for the most part are used for their intended purpose. There was also the recent case of a man who drove his car down a street closed for the purpose of a public celebration, killing many innocent people. He did not use a gun, he used a car, which is a widely accepted modern convenience, and usually used properly. Nobody to my knowledge has suggested getting rid of cars, oil, propane or fertilizer because of these demented people. The problem of school shootings or any other type of mass shooting, like the Las Vegas concert incident, is not a gun problem, but a person problem.

 

People are the problem, and people are the solution. To focus on the superficial aspects of the problem is to divert attention from the real problem, which is essentially philosophical and spiritual in nature. Anybody buying a gun or any other dangerous item and using it to hurt others is doing something profoundly irrational. Yet in their defense, irrational things are being done all around them, notably by the very people who fight most vociferously against gun ownership. For the sake of simplicity, I will call the agenda which  militates for gun control while demonstrating irrational behavior as Progressive. And what does it encourage that is irrational? The one factor which most progressive initiatives share is a desire to separate cause and effect. It appears as though by eliminating any consideration of the future consequences of behavior, one can legitimize any plan of action. And when people cannot conceive of the consequences of their actions, then there is no limit on what they might do. Let me give some examples of how progressive initiatives do in fact separate the notions of cause and effect, and thereby produce bad behavior.

 

First, let’s look at what used to be called traditional morality. The most glaring example of how the progressive agenda undermines rational cause and effect is to look at the matter of sex. In the Bible, sex is the subject of the first command given by God to man, that we be fruitful and multiply, a command given even before the fall. Thus, sex is inextricably associated with reproduction. The introduction of the Pill, the legalization of abortion, and the promotion of homosexual rights are all a direct attack on the link between sex and children. As an anti-abortion protester recently said at a Washington rally, “Abortion is not health care; pregnancy is not a disease.” The recent Supreme Court decision that says that marriage is not necessarily between a biological man and woman, while seeming to be virtuous and inclusive, merely accelerated the disconnection between sex and reproduction. Sex is no longer about two, potentially three people, it’s now about one. It’s not about the future, it’s about the present. It’s not about anything other than transient sensation of the individual participant.

 

By now you can see that the separation of cause and effect can quickly move from the personal to the societal and political level. You print money, you get inflation. You defund the police, you get crime. You open the borders, you get skewed voting results, drugs, human trafficking and a stressed health network. You legalize recreational drugs, and you get a society that thinks about little beyond when they can get high again. On not just on those drugs, but all drugs. How can you say that one psychotropic drug is okay, but others are not okay? There is no distinction in the mind of the drug addict between this drug and that. There’s only the goal of putting narcissistic sensation above the business of living.

 

The disassociation of cause and effect can also be entitled “unintended consequences.” Pass laws that give financial assistance, welfare, to homes where there is no male or father, and you get homes with no male or father. Although this initiative seemed noble at the time, helping black families at the bottom of the economic pyramid, it has produced disastrous consequences just a few decades later. The current reality is that three fourths of black children have no father on the premises, and all the well-documented problems that reality implies.

 

But let’s get back to schools. You take prayer out of schools, and the devil moves in. As Jesus said, if you’re not for him, you’re against him. The expulsion of prayer, chapel services, and Christian meetings from public schools has left a spiritual void where students, to say nothing of teachers, have no grounding for decisions. If there is no right, there is no wrong, and pretty soon you’ve got kids who are spiritually adrift making bad decisions that lead to headlines. We all hear voices, and if you don’t believe in God or the Devil, you won’t know who’s speaking. Take this kid in Texas who shot a bunch of small children. He apparently had no ability to see the future for himself or others; a common problem of those bereft of philosophical formation. If there is no heaven, as John Lennon advocated, then there is no hell. The shooter in Texas is quite certainly in hell, saying as the rich man said in Luke, “Send Lazarus to my father’s house, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place or torment.” Abraham demurred, pointing out that the brothers, lacking spiritual direction in the form of obedience to the Scriptures, were set on a course of similar destruction.

 

In Numbers 22 Balaam beats his donkey for disobeying his commands. He’s focused on the donkey, because the donkey is the proximate cause of his discomfort. It is only as his eyes are opened to the presence of the Lord, and the fact that he is opposing the Lord’s will, that he understands the problem is not the donkey, but the nature of his errand. The same can be said of a society that tolerates the disassociation of natural cause and effect. The Lord has created a world where there is a close association between action and reaction, so that we will perceive the ordered, systematic, beautiful character of the creator. Francis Schaeffer says,

 

“In contrast to Eastern thinking, the Hebrew-Christian tradition affirms that God has created a true universe outside of himself. When I use this term ‘outside of himself,’ I do not mean it in a spatial sense; I mean that the universe is not an extension of the essence of God. It is not just a dream of God. There is something there to think about, to deal with and to investigate which has objective reality. Christianity gives a certainty of objective reality and of cause and effect, a certainty that is strong enough to build on. Thus the object, and history, and cause and effect really exist.”

 

You put your hand in fire, it will be burned. Not the fault of the fire, the fault of the fool who put his hand in it. You jump off a cliff, and you are injured or killed. Not the fault of the cliff or gravity, the fault is of the person who jumped. When are we going to see that our generation has failed to instruct the next in the simple idea that God exists, and hence principle of cause and effect is binding? Even though we relax our laws in the interests of inclusion and compassion, we are actually short circuiting the most elemental feature of Creation, and the means the Creator has established for revealing Himself and how we ought to think and live. If you want to ban something, how about the video games which train people to kill, steal and destroy the opposition, with the added crime of being able to hit a reset button and start all over again?

 

As Jim Rayburn, founder of Young Life said, “Without Jesus, these kids just don’t have a chance.” There is no such thing as a neutral position with regard to God and the way he has created our world. You either obey him, which is another way of saying you worship and love him, or you oppose not only him but the very essence of his creation. His laws are immutable, and when you disobey them, you don’t get freedom, you get solitude. At best.

 

Dec 21
0

Two Years Hence – Reflections on COVID

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So it’s been two years since we first heard about COVID-19, corona virus disease 2019. It’s time to take stock of what we have witnessed in that time.

 

First of all, this is a real thing that causes real problems. Although we don’t personally know people who have died from it, we do know people who have gotten very, very sick. It’s hard to establish lethality with COVID because payment policies at hospitals encourage them to label admissions, treatments and deaths as COVID-related because charges can be increased when the virus is involved. One neighborhood doctor friend said that the premium for COVID was 50% over normal billing. Furthermore, any viral attack will make co-morbidities more morbid. If your health is already compromised, then a viral attack can indeed become much more serious. As the La Jolla Institute for Immunology says, reaction to virus attack varies with the individual. It’s not so much a function of the virus itself and what it does to us, but what our body does to the virus in trying to combat it. One person can have COVID and not know it, another can have a cytokine storm that kills them.

 

That said, COVID is not SARS 2 with his high lethality. One of the reasons it’s so infectious is that it’s possible to be up and around spreading the disease while feeling nothing or little in terms of symptoms. Which brings us to the most important revelation about the disease, and that is why we have it in the first place. It is well documented that a corona virus was manipulated in the Wuhan Institute of Virology to be more contagious than in its natural state. In a piece of journalism that should merit a Pulitzer Prize but which has been ignored by the popular media, Steve Hilton went on the air documenting the role the United States government played in funding the Wuhan research: https://www.bizpacreview.com/2021/02/01/steve-hiltons-exclusive-investigation-of-covid-19-origin-leads-to-more-on-dangerous-research-obama-halted-new-details-1024027/

 

Apparently Tony Fauci awarded the funds, and they were distributed to the Wuhan lab through the agency of Peter Daszak, President of EcoHealth Alliance. The chain of support has also been documented by the American Conservative here: https://www.theamericanconservative.com/articles/america-might-have-funded-the-chinese-coronavirus/

 

Both pieces of research are based upon documents that are available to the public, and are beyond reproach in terms of authenticity. So if it’s true that the U.S. Government, and particularly “America’s Doctor” Tony Fauci played a primary role in the creation of this pandemic, then it’s no surprise that people disbelieve the government when it comes to how to control it. There is an alarming correlation between conservative political views, conservative religious beliefs, and skepticism about COVID. My church friends are split down the middle between those who get the vaccine and anti-vaxers. Now it occurs to me that there are two reasons to not get the vaccine: 1) that it does not work, or 2) that it’s harmful. Other than that, go ahead and get it. The science of vaccinations is well-established and the basis for much disease-free living. When Jonas Salk came to La Jolla to dedicate the new Salk Institute in the early 60’s, my mother marched me up to the podium and made me shake his hand. His work, which included giving the vaccine to his own children, freed up that and future generations of parents from the fear of polio. So when the COVID vaccine became available, I did not walk but ran to get it. I have received the Moderna vaccine and the Pfizer booster, and had no negative reaction to either. Nor have I ever contracted COVID, even though I no longer use a mask or take precautions. It’s all over as far as I’m concerned, in spite of warnings of new variants.

 

So if nothing else, COVID has shown people up for what they believe in the privacy of their own hearts. Some trust the government and the press, others to do not. Some of the latter are willing to risk getting sick in order to register their distrust, and are in fact getting sick. Perhaps it would be good for doctors and hospitals to have a policy whereby they require the unvaccinated to pay for their treatment out of their own pockets if the gamble doesn’t pay off. At the very least, we need to see the whole thing as an attempt of governments to control and thin the population. Why engage in gain of function research in the first place? The rationale that by increasing transmissibility you get to do more productive research is a specious argument. No. You increase transmissibility for one reason only, to make it easier to spread the disease. You turn a hand gun into a machine gun for one reason: to increase lethality. Same with a virus. Dr. Fauci, Peter Daszak and the Chinese have militarized a virus, and may have more in store. The Nazis in Germany started to cleanse their society by killing off the aged, infirm, and deficient in a systematic process to euthanasia. I don’t see how this situation is any different. Just as the whole Global Warming scare was an attempt to redistribute resources from first world to second and third world nations, COVID has done much to centralize social and legal control in the hands of national, state and local governments. The politic threat to American liberties has often been characterized as being from the left. I would counter that it’s not from the left, as socialist and communist assaults each have the virtue of containing critiques of uncontrolled capitalism. The new attack on our liberties comes from the right, from people who make no pretensions about economic reform, but who simply want to be a minority in control over the majority. That’s the very definition of fascism: those in the know get to call the shots.

Mar 28
0

The Rise and Fall of the Non-Denominational Church

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Nobody will dispute that mainline Protestant churches are in precipitous decline. There’s not a denomination, particularly in the United States, Canada and Europe, that isn’t facing dissention, schism, and increasing irrelevance. By contrast, there are many splinter Protestant groups that are resisting these trends, and are proving to be a safe haven for many who used to attend mainline churches. These are the non-denominational, often evangelical churches, ones that have maintained a certain regard for Scripture and the behavioral mores that have traditionally characterized Christianity. For many, they represent a final and permanent expression of the Christian Church. They have dropped those anachronistic or archaic trappings of worship, and have kept only the essential. Their success seems to be proof that the formula is valid. The following question presents itself, however: are evangelical churches successful because they are essentially good and complete, or simply because their mainline counterparts are so bad? Is the new evangelical, non-liturgical, a-historical church capable of forming this generation of Christians who will be able, in turn, to pass on the essentials of Christianity to the next?

 

Let me focus on the state of the Church in the United States. It appears as though the history of Protestant Christianity in America is a history of extremes; swings of a pendulum that returns to center, to be sure, but which goes too far and never establishes genuine equilibrium. In his seminal work, The Democratization of American Religion, Nathan Hatch documents, in excruciating detail, how the American Revolution affected the practice of Christianity in the new nation, and not always for the better. His basic premise is that when the perceived yoke of a state religion with its historical forms and institutions was lifted by the American Revolution, something of a spiritual vacuum was created. That vacuum was immediately filled with a multitude of novel, vibrant, and sometimes correct expressions of Christianity. Most of these movements or groups shared a common distain for prior forms and institutions, and competed with one another to drop them as quickly as possible.

 

The established church did have problems and in many ways deserved its demotion. For one thing, most featured abstruse sermons on why Calvinism, which manifestly makes no sense, did in fact make sense. Attendees came to ask the obvious: if my spiritual fate is established by God on an arbitrary and capricious basis, why attend church at all? If I can do nothing to alter my spiritual trajectory for better or worse, why bother with Christianity? New non-denominational churches solved the problem by forgetting not only John Calvin, but theological education in general. There was an explosion of self-appointed preachers, few educated and fewer ordained, who invited people to take control of their eternal destinies. Sermons became long, informal, devoid of technical terminology, and extemporaneous. There was revival, to be sure, but there was also disarray. To quote an alarmed Philip Schaff, a theologian in the German Reformed Church, “Every theological vagabond and peddler may drive here his bungling trade, without passport or license, and sell his false ware at pleasure. What is to come of such confusion is not now to be seen.” Mr. Schaff has a point. The evangelical claim was that God was free to act for the first time in centuries, and that all that had gone before was automatically suspect. The cry was to return to the early Church, as she was in her innocence. Yet were the intervening years actually devoid of inspiration? Was ecclesial iconoclasm a sufficient basis for creating a new Church? Jesus uses the metaphor of a storeroom to address this very issue. He speaks of drawing out “new treasures as well as old,” not just the new. When the old was jettisoned to make way for the new simply because it is old, is it possible that something was lost in the process?

 

The author of the Letter to the Hebrews, probably Apollos, begins the sixth chapter of his letter with the following admonition:

 

“Therefore let us leave the elementary teachings about Christ and go on to maturity, not laying again the foundation of repentance from acts that lead to death, and of faith in God, instruction about baptisms, the laying on of hands, the resurrection of the dead, and eternal judgment. And God permitting, we will do so.”

 

Funny, but what he labels as elementary and by implication immature is the very stuff and substance of the program that non-denominational churches have retained. Pick any recent Christian church, the agenda appears to be about our justification: how we can be forgiven and go to heaven. They continue to specialize in how one becomes a Christian, but apparently neglect the agenda for what one does after conversion. Preaching on the benefits of repentance is good for attracting new members, but is limited in its ability to keep them once converted. After you submit to whatever evangelical shibboleth your group demands, what is next? You’ve gone forward for an altar call, you’ve been baptized by immersion, preferably in water from the Jordan River, you’ve said the sinner’s prayer, from memory, you’ve offered your testimony in a public forum, surely there’s nothing else to do! The result is a consumer culture in non-denominational churches that produces converts but not disciples.

 

This brings us to the perhaps the greatest problem of the typical non-denominational church, that it is very dependent upon the skill and personality of the leader. On the one hand they must produce confidence in their listeners, that they are justified and going to heaven. On the other hand, they must produce enough doubt about their fate that they need to keep coming back. In this regard they are not unlike their Roman Catholic brethren, with whom they claim no affinity. Evangelical leaders must research new ways to keep their flocks involved, even after they have received a guarantee of heaven. Better preaching, better music, less repetition, less doctrine, less moralizing; all these have been tried in an attempt to keep an increasingly critical audience satisfied. There appears to be no end to this trend in sight, to the dismay of non-denominational leaders.

 

Rather than continue in this marketing nightmare, non-deonominational and evangelical leaders might try examining their product. The real reason evangelical leaders find themselves in this dilemma is because their message is only half the Gospel. The first half consists of our justification, to be sure. On the Cross Jesus was assigned our guilt and was executed in our place. This is a one-time event that, in the words of Scripture, expiated “the sins of the whole world.” Attempts by anyone, especially those in the Reformed tradition, to “limit” the power of the blood of Christ are in error and harmful. Our justification is not peculiar to the individual; all are justified by the Cross. Nor is our justification dependent upon experience; it is based on a one-time event in history and applies to all, even those who lived before Good Friday. The facts of our redemption from sin need to be rehearsed again and again to make sure everybody understands the power of the Cross. This is best done in the context of a sermon. But after the fact of the substitutionary atonement, exchanging our sin for Christ’s righteousness is firmly established, what then? For evangelical churches to focus on what is a universal fait accompli is not only unnecessary, it is a distraction. Eventually they run out of material and end up doing things twice that should never be repeated, such as baptism.

 

So what is missing? What are churches supposed to do besides talk of justification? If the first half of the Gospel involves forgiveness, the second half involves our salvation. The Apostle Paul makes a distinction between the two in Romans chapters 5, 10, and 1 Timothy 4:10, the author of the Letter to the Hebrews makes reference to the difference at the end of chapter 9, and Jesus posits a difference in many places, notably in Matthew 22 in the parable of the wedding banquet. If justification has to do with the forgiveness of sins, our salvation has to do not with what we did wrong, but what we did right, if anything. Note that in the two accounts in the NT of the final judgment, in Matthew 25 and Revelation 20, we are judged according to how we treated others, notably Christians, and whether or not our name was in the Book of life; good things, not bad things. We have been placed in Christ by the Cross in a legal or forensic sense. The question then becomes, was Christ in us effectually as of Pentecost, that he might bear fruit through us? Those who are found to be fruitless branches, were originally, “in me,” according to Jesus in John 15. Remember that all were invited to the wedding banquet, “both good and bad.” Our response to the fact of our justification is not to fold our hands in gratitude, but rather to let go of those things that hinder, that grieve the Holy Spirit, that we might play host to him and allow him to do what we cannot do on our own: bear fruit.

 

If this is true of how God redeems, the weakness of the evangelical church becomes obvious. By harping on our justification, this brand of Christianity is belaboring something in which we have no role. We are placed in Christ without our knowledge, consent or cooperation. Jesus is the Savior of all. What does require our knowledge, consent and cooperation, however, is that we play host to Jesus in the person of the Holy Spirit and obey him as Lord. This involves a deliberate and repetitive ceding of the will in sovereign preference to the Spirit. If you look at the “liturgy” of any evangelical church, there is no place in the service that addresses our need to cooperate with Jesus as Lord, apart from the periodic altar call. The service is well suited to a rehearsal of those saving acts by which we are justified. We sing songs to him as Savior, but any deliberate renunciation of our right to decide what is right and wrong, a confession of sin, etc., is nowhere to be found. The evangelical format and message is great for telling us we are forgiven, but does nothing to help us deal with Jesus in his other role, that of Lord. This is precisely where the historic, liturgical church excelled.

 

If the chief function of corporate worship is to make us better hosts for the Holy Spirit that we might obey Jesus as Lord, then any service without the Holy Eucharist is inadequate. Scott Hahn, an ordained minister in a Reformed, evangelical church, came to believe that his own pastoral practice was misguided, in that he preached long sermons but left no time for Holy Eucharist. He has since joined the Roman Catholic Church. It is when the worshiper kneels before the Lord, offers a Confession of Sin, and prays something along the lines of the Prayer of Humble Access, that their hearts are prepared to enter into a moral transaction with the living Jesus. The Eucharist operates on at least two levels, God’s perspective and man’s. From God’s point of view it is a chance for us to re-invite the Spirit into our hearts, the seat of our will, so that Jesus can again reign as Lord. We eat daily, we should have communion at least weekly. This permission is the essence of Christian worship. Then from man’s perspective, the Eucharist is a recapitulation of the last Supper in which the bread and wine we consecrate become the same loaf and cup Jesus consecrated at the Last Supper. It does not bring God to us, it takes us to God. We were there no less than the apostles, and the promises and commission he gave them as recorded by the apostle John he gives to us anew. It is while we kneel and humbly take the elements that we acknowledge that the only real life in us is that of the Risen Lord Jesus, and that our only hope is to once again grant him full access to our mind, will and emotions that we might serve and obey him as Lord.

 

If all this is true about the centrality of the Eucharist to corporate worship, why do not more churches adopt traditional liturgies? The answer is that by and large, today’s Christian is basing his worship decisions not on what makes him a more fruitful Christian, but on what is most pleasing to his senses. It can be argued, in fact, that in jettisoning traditional worship elements, the modern evangelical is recommitting Adam’s sin of eating of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, that is, deciding for himself what is right and wrong. Today’s non-denominational is perhaps the most arrogant of all Christians in that he has strong opinions about what constitutes acceptable worship forms, without any regard for what the Church created and conserved for two millennia. A lack of regard for historical practices not only allows the loss of things that are valuable, it also makes one subject to accepting modern innovations that are destructive.

 

To return to a liturgical church, with worship constructed around the Eucharist, with a Confession of Sin, a Prayer of Humble Access, and a Post Communion Prayer, involves many sacrifices. First of all, it takes the focus off the celebrant; his skill and genius have no way to present themselves. Further, there will be a lot of kneeling, which, in addition to being humiliating, is also uncomfortable. Then there’s the matter of having to transact business with Jesus each week. The message will eventually get through that Jesus wants to be Lord not just on Sundays, but each and every day of the week. The worshipper will be confronted with the sins and shortfalls of the week, the missed opportunities and the times of outright rebellion. It will become impossible to leave church feeling only refreshed, encouraged and satisfied. There will other sensations as well, such as regret, relief, hope for improvement, and resolve; all the things that come up when we realize we have a Lord. God is calling his Church to read, mark, learn and inwardly digest the admonition of Hebrews chapter 6, that we preach the whole Gospel and reach a personal and collective maturity. This can only happen in a church service that seeks not how much from the past it can discard, but how much it can retain.

 

So this is where we are today: where and how we worship matters. God cares, and so should we. The mainline churches are clearly still on the side of the ministry of the Table, where Biblical preaching is neglected, leaving a blind, uninformed, and no doubt superstitious celebration of the sacraments. They claim to be honoring Jesus as Lord, but they have forsaken his Word. The evangelical churches, on the other hand, are still on the side of the ministry of the Word, extolling Jesus as Savior, but doing little to help their adherents submit to him as Lord. Neither is approach is adequate, and neither bears lasting fruit. That the Church would recover both halves of the worship service, and both roles of Jesus that they seek to portray, and produce Christians who are, in the words of the Letter to the Hebrews, genuinely mature.

 

Mar 28
0

Icebergs and the Protestant Church

By | Cleric Comments, Serious | No Comments

Any thinking Christian must have remarked that the past two centuries have been rough on the Protestant church. First, the 19th century featured the invasion of liberal and rationalistic ideas first championed by German scholars and quickly adopted by seminaries. Higher criticism had circular thinking as its process and tautology as its ultimate goal. Although mainline denominations seemed to welcome these innovations, there was nevertheless a minority who resisted them. Amongst Anglicans, many reverted to Roman liturgical practices if not actual doctrine, becoming the Oxford Movement. In the United States, a country always open to “progressive” ideas, the liberalizing trend that started in matters of hermeneutics spread to those of doctrine, discipline and worship. Starting in 1962, Bishop Pike was found to be heterodox in his theology, yet the House of Bishops refused to censure him on three separate occasions. In 1974, 11 women were ordained “priests” in violation of the canons of the Episcopal Church, effectively dismantling church discipline. Finally, in the early 21st century, The American and Canadian churches started ordaining practicing homosexuals to the ministry, culminating in the consecration of Gene Robinson Bishop of New Hampshire in 2004. Efforts to revise the BCP to include rites for the “marriage” of homosexuals and the “blessing” of transgender people continue unabated.

 

In contrast to these innovations in the Protestant church, the Roman Catholic Church has maintained traditional classical Christian views about doctrine and sexual mores. Perhaps this is due to institutional inertia; Stalin is quoted as saying, as he surveyed his deployments against the Germans in WWII, ” Quantity has a quality all of its own.” But then again, there may be something more profound afoot. Is it possible that the Reformation of the 16th century sufficiently altered the Christian Gospel in such a way as to leave the Protestant church more susceptible to invasion by the prevailing culture? How can Protestants, who pride themselves on having superior theology, end up having more internal schism and disagreements about theology, authority and behavior than the Catholic competition? For too long, Protestants have been content to content to criticize the Catholic Church without examining the very real problems they themselves are experiencing.

 

Any investigation into the differing fortunes of the two main branches of the Christian Church must go back to when the break occurred. What was held in common? What was the disagreement that caused the fracture? There were rumblings about medieval Roman practices from early on, first finding voice with John Wycliffe in England and John Huss on the Continent. By the time Martin Luther posted his 95 Theses on the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, discontent about the political and economic practices of the Papacy was widespread. Luther’s innovation, though, was not to talk about retrograde practices alone, but rather to question the theology behind them. As a humanist, Erasmus mocked, but as a theologian, Luther engaged. The problem was not so much that the Roman church was preoccupied with worldly affairs, but that it was neglecting its spiritual mission. Rome didn’t know, or had forgotten, just how it is that a Holy God redeems a sinful humanity.

 

There was consensus between Roman and reformer about the problem that needed to be solved. As the de facto author of Roman Catholic theology in the form of his Summa Theologica, Thomas Aquinas wanted to solve the problem of sin. Augustine had elaborated upon the concept of original sin, an affliction common to all sons of Adam, and then there was the corollary of actual sins. The penalty of any sin, of course, was death. Luther also was concerned with sin. His own spiritual journey was characterized by frustration; the more he strove to become righteous, the more he was consumed with a sense of failure. Roman practices added to his moral burden, and did nothing to assuage it.[1] There was also consensus between the two regarding the solution to the problem of Sin, and that was a reliance upon the grace of God. Said Thomas, “I answer that, Man by himself can no wise rise from sin without the help of grace.”[2] So too Martin: “Nothing can take away sin except the grace of God.”[3] So what was the problem? They agreed that divine grace was necessary to combat Sin, but what did they mean by grace?

 

By the time of the Reformation, the Roman church had developed an elaborate system whereby humans could move from sin to happiness or beatitude; eternal life. It would be impossible to recount here the complete process of redemption as conceived by Aquinas and the Schoolmen, but a brief summary should nevertheless be offered. Since it is in our nature to live a life consisting of decisions and actions, God, in his providence, has ordained that we should attain salvation through the consequences of our decisions and actions.[4] Grace is an infused quality of the soul, an ontological transformation that imparts virtues to the believer. On the one hand there are cardinal virtues, which are part of our natural constitution and not dependent upon grace. Then there are theological virtues, which are completely dependent upon an infusion from the Holy Spirit.[5] Once in possession of a measure of theological virtues, there is a potential for performing good works.[6] Works may be viewed in two ways. The first is as the fruit of cooperation between God and man, and as such, have value. The second way is as meritorious of eternal life condignly, “whereby a man, being made a partaker of the Divine Nature, is adopted as a son of God, to whom the inheritance is due by right of adoption…”[7]

Works, in turn, deserve merit, which has the nature of a reward for actions undertaken by the proper use of free will.[8] We have a choice as to whether or not to cooperate with God, and when we do, it’s considered worthy of reward.

 

Thus we see that the movement of an individual from being a sinner separated from God and hopeless in his powerlessness, to eternal life, involves discrete steps, all involving grace. Adjectives were attached to the term grace in order to show that at whatever point in this process a person is, their progress is dependent upon God’s aid. To get started, a person first needs enabling grace. There is also a medicinal aspect to grace, in that we require healing to be able to do things that will earn us divine favor. Once healed we manifest habitual or sanctifying grace, that cooperates with our nature to restore those qualities that were attenuated by the Fall. Thomas also speaks of actual grace, that enables us to do those things and operations that earn us merit and thus eternal life. This is not an exhaustive account of Roman doctrine on grace, nor is it necessarily accurate. Perhaps it is sufficient.

 

The theme of grace in Roman theology was enduring, remaining central in the Council of Trent’s formulation on justification centuries later:

 

“The Synod furthermore declares, that in adults, the beginning of the said Justification is to be derived from the prevenient grace of God, through Jesus Christ, that is to say, from His vocation, whereby, without any merits existing on their parts, they are called; that so they, who by sins were alienated from God, may be disposed through His quickening and assisting grace, to convert themselves to their own justification, by freely assenting to and co-operating with that said grace: in such sort that, while God touches the heart of man by the illumination of the Holy Ghost, neither is man himself utterly without doing anything while he receives that inspiration, forasmuch as he is also able to reject it; yet is he not able, by his own free will, without the grace of God, to move himself unto justice in His sight. Whence, when it is said in the sacred writings: Turn ye to me, and I will turn to you, we are admonished of our liberty; and when we answer; Convert us, O Lord, to thee, and we shall be converted, we confess that we are prevented by the grace of God.”

 

Because grace finds its source in the Cross of Christ, which occurred a long time ago, the question then became, how do we bring that grace to the present time and place? Thus, an emphasis on the sacraments that Aquinas felt to be the vehicle of transmission. “Wherefore it is manifest that the sacraments of the Church derive their power specially from Christ’s Passion, the virtue of which is in a manner united to us by our receiving the sacraments.”[9] He goes on, “And since ‘the sacraments of which the Church is built, flowed from the side of Christ while He lay asleep on the cross…the efficacy of the Passion abides in the sacraments of the Church.”[10] Through the sacraments God could be brought to us here and now.

 

Despite the inevitable simplification and abbreviation in this summary, there are a number of things worth noting. First of all, justification or the remission of sins is a step within a larger process and should not be equated with the end result of the process, which is salvation or the conferral of eternal life. Secondly, in addition to being sinful, man lies powerless to do anything about his situation. Man is completely dependent upon grace in some form to move back to the condition and abilities he enjoyed before the Fall. Although this scheme begins with God’s gracious aid, its goal is to improve a person, and as such is profoundly anthropocentric. Thirdly, grace is something that can be refused by the individual; one can cooperate with grace or refuse it. Grace does not dominate a person, but on the one hand embellishes their natural abilities and on the other confers supernatural abilities. Finally, this process is characterized by a complexity that reflects Aquinas’ dependence upon Aristotle and a Greek preference for analytical thinking.[11]

 

To Luther and other reformers, such fine parsing and differentiation was not only confusing, but wrong. They rejected this whole sequence of redemption for at least two reasons. First of all, they said that it was fruitless to try to improve man, to move him along this continuum of spiritual improvement; only Christ was righteous. Luther said that a man was justified only when he came to see that he could not have any virtue, could not possibly do anything right, and could not have any merit of his own, but could only ask that Christ’s merits be imparted to him. Secondly, they saw this scheme as limiting God’s sovereignty, putting him in a sort of fiduciary relationship with his creation. All the reformers rejected any system that put God in debt to man. Says Luther, “This is the wicked teaching of the papacy.”[12] Grace was not a fungible asset, one which could be granted, received, stored and cashed in when needed. Calvin went to so far as to say that man had no role whatsoever in his redemption, including the ability to avail himself to divine mercy or reject that same mercy.

 

The reformers impugned works of merit whether performed before or after a person came to faith. Article 13 of the Articles of Religion in the English Book of Common Prayer reads as follows:

 

XIII. Of Works before Justification.

Works done before the grace of Christ, and the Inspiration of the Spirit, are not pleasant to God, forasmuch as they spring not of faith in Jesus Christ; neither do they make men meet to receive grace, or (as the School-authors say) deserve grace of congruity: yea rather, for that they are not done as God hath willed and commanded them to be done, we doubt not but they have the nature of sin.

 

Nor are works performed “after” a person comes to faith in Christ safe:

 

XII. Of Good Works.

Albeit that Good Works, which are the fruits of Faith, and follow after Justification, cannot put away our sins, and endure the severity of God’s judgment; yet are they pleasing and acceptable to God in Christ, and do spring out necessarily of a true and lively Faith;
insomuch that by them a lively Faith may be as evidently known as a tree discerned by the
fruit.

 

So if not works, what? And what is to keep Protestants from being universalists? How is the unlimited grace of the Cross limited so that all do not benefit? Luther said that the limiting factor is faith; those who have faith are justified, those who do not have faith are not. What the two Articles quoted above share is an assumption that we are justified at the time we come to faith in that sacrifice. There is no blanket justification of mankind outside of historical time, or even as of Good Friday, but rather an individual justification that is tied to a conversion event in the life of the individual believer. Article 12 speaks of good works that follow after justification, and Article 13 speaks of works done “before the grace of Christ.” This belief that justification is based on the Cross of Christ but nevertheless locked up or repressed until released by the “faith” of an individual can be found in Luther and has been faithfully maintained in evangelical doctrine to the present day. “Here let me say, that these three things, faith, Christ and imputation of righteousness, are to be joined together. Faith takes hold of Christ. God accounts this faith for righteousness.”[13] Thus, we are “saved” when we say the sinner’s prayer, go forward for an altar call, make a “decision” for Christ, or submit to adult baptism. Although Luther would say that God is sovereign in his redemption of humanity, nevertheless there has to be some sort of appropriation on the part of the individual believer. Thus, God is sovereign, but not completely so. What’s important, however, is that “faith” is understood to be a revelation that ancient events were of supreme relevance to a believer, though removed by time and distance. It was not just an intellectual assent to certain facts of history, but rather a transportation of the believer back to those events that produced the grace they were now experiencing.

 

So for Luther, the factor that limited grace was this notion of faith. John Calvin, whose critique of Roman doctrine was the most polemical, espoused a divine sovereignty that took no account of human involvement whatsoever. People were ordained to salvation or reprobation from time immemorial without any hope or possibility of change, for better or worse. The bad could not aspire to repentance and reform, the good could not fall to perdition. [14] God saved a minority to exhibit his mercy, God damned the majority to display his justice. Calvin’s influence was remarkable, both at that time and since. While the Articles in the English Prayer Book mentioned above seem to equate justification with the advent of personal faith, Article 17 reproduces Calvin’s view with amazing fidelity:

 

XVII. Of Predestination and Election.

Predestination to Life is the everlasting purpose of God, whereby (before the foundations of the world were laid) he hath constantly decreed by his counsel secret to us, to deliver from curse and damnation those whom he hath chosen in Christ out of mankind, and to bring them by Christ to everlasting salvation, as vessels made to honour. Wherefore, they which be endued with so excellent a benefit of God, be called according to God’s purpose by his Spirit working in due season: they through Grace obey the calling: they be justified freely: they be made sons of God by adoption: they be made like the image of his only-begotten Son Jesus Christ: they walk religiously in good works, and at length, by God’s mercy, they attain to everlasting felicity.

As the godly consideration of Predestination, and our Election in Christ, is full of sweet,
pleasant, and unspeakable comfort to godly persons, and such as feel in themselves the
working of the Spirit of Christ, mortifying the works of the flesh, and their earthly mem-
bers, and drawing up their mind to high and heavenly things, as well because it doth greatly establish and confirm their faith of eternal Salvation to be enjoyed through Christ, as because it doth fervently kindle their love towards God: So, for curious and carnal persons, lacking the Spirit of Christ, to have continually before their eyes the sentence of God’s Predestination, is a most dangerous downfall, whereby the Devil doth thrust them either into desperation, or into wrethchlessness of most unclean living, no less perilous than desperation.

Furthermore, we must receive God’s promises in such wise, as they be generally set forth to
us in Holy Scripture: and, in our doings, that Will of God is to be followed, which we
have expressly declared unto us in the word of God.

 

That these two approaches, those of Luther and Calvin, are fundamentally at odds and mutually exclusive didn’t seem to bother the English reformers, who tried to pick and choose what they considered the best from the Continental Reformation.

Always dismissed as a Pelagian, Jacobus Arminius was a Reformer on the opposite end of the theological spectrum from Calvin. He said that God’s choice of people for eternal felicity or reprobation is not arbitrary in the slightest, but rather based upon their behavior. God doesn’t create sinners for the purpose of damning them, he creates all people with free will, and some choose to engage in meretricious behavior that results first in hardening and ultimately in damnation. Grace is limited through the free moral choices that people make, including the decision to blaspheme the Holy Spirit. “Hence it is apparent that the question was not only about some being rejected, and some accepted, but about the rejected and the accepted being of such a kind, that is, distinguished by certain qualities.”[15] The Holy Spirit is the author and communicator of grace, and He can be grieved. “With respect to which, I believe, according to the scriptures, that many persons resist the Holy Spirit and reject the grace that is offered.”[16]

 

The followers of Arminius, the Remonstrants, were subpoenaed, tried without opportunity of defense, and variously executed, imprisoned or exiled. The forum was the Synod of Dort, 1618-19, and codified Calvin’s system under the acrostic TULIP. Thus, the high Dutch Calvinists were victors and wrote Protestant history to their liking. Representatives from many national Protestant churches were in attendance, and adopted Calvinism as the new standard of soteriological orthodoxy. Few in the 400 years since have had the temerity to question these Reformed tenets. A particularly eloquent exception is Will Durant who said of Calvin, “…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.”[17] The name Arminius has become associated with that of Pelagius, but wrongly. While Pelagius said we can respond to God and obey him without the aid of the Holy Spirit, grace, Arminius simply said that God does not bind people to commit sins, for if he did, he would himself be the author of sin.

 

In summary, Protestants cannot be considered a monolithic whole, for the only thing they agree on is that Rome is wrong; they certainly do not agree about what perspective is right. There are at least three streams of Protestant thought that must be considered individually. Calvin is right that God is sovereign; he cannot be put in debt to his creation. Luther’s contribution was that the righteousness we all seek is not a righteousness in and of ourselves, generated through our own efforts, but rather a righteousness from God; his righteousness, that is ascribed to us, not as a reward or a wage, but simply as a result of Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross. Arminius was helpful in that he pointed out that people are not judged as individuals as Calvin would assert, but rather as members of a class or type who are foreknown and chosen or elect to a spiritual destiny based upon their behavior. Collectively it can be said that they all militated for the principle that humanity is justified by God, that is, granted remission of sins, based not upon human effort but by the Cross of Christ which was “a full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice, oblation, and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world.”[18] Where they are weak is that by equating justification with salvation, the conferral of eternal life, they have removed any motivation for talking about what faith really is or how it is manifested.[19] The result, as already noted, is a philosophical quandary wherein they cannot address the issues of authority or behavior, and have thereby suffered.[20] As the evangelist Lorenzo Dow said, when asked for a summary of Calvinism, “You can and you can’t, you will and you won’t, you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t.” Reformers have forgotten that the Gospel has two halves: what God has done that we cannot do, and what we do by way of response that God will not do. Mainline Protestants are half-Gospelers. Further, they have discouraged theological progress by warning we are not to inquire into the mind or methods of God.[21] This is a specious argument, and is probably merely an excuse for having an incomplete soteriology. It should be a given that a good father wants his children to understand the rules of the household.

 

The Roman Catholic, by contrast, says that we can, indeed must, make a positive contribution to our spiritual ledger. On the one hand, they say this is simply grace working in and through us, which is commendable. On the other, they are saying that though this grace emanates from God, its goal is to improve us, to make us fulfill our potential that has been vitiated by sin. This infuriates Protestants, particularly Martin Luther, who says: “We herewith pass judgment on the papists, monks, nuns, priests, Mohammedans, Anabaptists, and all who trust in their own merits, as wicked and destructive sects that rob God and Christ of the honor that belongs to them alone.”[22] Nevertheless, by identifying a discrete process whereby the Christian appropriates grace and responds to God’s monergistic actions, they have made a distinction, perhaps inadvertently, between justification and salvation, or eternal life. They have developed their own ordo salutis,[23] and have maintained the ability to value human decision, for grace can be resisted. Discussions of authority and behavior have therefore been possible, and profitable. They have left themselves open to Protestant critique, however, by adopting an overly elaborate and mechanistic view of the sacraments. Rather than take the believer to God, Roman sacramental practice tries to bring God to the believer. God is not mobile. Further, grace has been depersonalized and rendered a commodity that invites efforts to quantify and qualify it. God is not manipulated. I’m reminded of Thomas Aquinas’ experience toward the end of his career, wherein he found that God could not be placed within an Aristotelian framework.”[24] As Will Durant said of Thomas’ work, it resulted in “subtlety, but not wisdom.”[25]

 

By drawing upon the best insights of both Rome and Reformer, a synthetic, Biblical, and rational soteriology can be assembled. It can be presented in graphic form:

 

Actor Man’s Problem Attitude as of the Fall Solution Historic Event Extent Our Position Relative to Christ Associated Sacrament Judgment Role of Christ Event in Theological Terms
God Guilt Enmity with Man Blood of Christ Good Friday Universal Us in Christ legally Baptism On Sin Savior Justification
Man Power-

lessness

 Enmity with God Life of Christ Pentecost Particular Christ in us effectually Eucharist On Fruitless-   ness Lord Salvation

 

First, those things upon which Rome and Reformer agree. There are two actors, God and Man. As of the Fall, we have moral guilt. Since the Fall we’ve been running from God, we can no longer eat from the Tree of Life, another way of saying our spirit is somehow attenuated. Both agree the solution involves the blood of Christ that we might be forgiven, but then comes a divergence. Whereas the Protestant stops here, and says that Christ’s sacrifice has purchased forgiveness of sins and therefore eternal life, the Roman says more is required. In addition to the blood of Christ, the Roman would say we also need God’s continued grace to merit eternal life. This brings us to what Paul calls salvation, while Romans call it beatitude or eternal life. Same thing.[26] What is important to note is that Protestants believe that salvation is either decided by God without reference to our faith or behavior, or conferred at the time faith is registered. In either case, end of conversation. It’s good to lead a righteous life, but going to heaven is not an issue. In fact, for those in the Reformed tradition, talk about the importance of behavior cannot progress beyond this point. As Oswald Chambers sarcastically describes it, “Christ died for me, I go Scot free.”

 

A genuine synthesis between Roman and Reformed has to return to the Bible, and be eclectic about what is retained by each. The Protestant contribution is that we are justified without any role for human agency. When Abraham witnessed the establishment of the first covenant in Genesis 15, he was asleep, a mere bystander, while the covenant was executed by the Father and Son themselves, the smoking pot and flaming torch. The Roman contribution is that justification is not salvation; they are separate and cannot be confused or conflated without doing damage to God’s reputation. Paul makes a distinction between the two in Romans chapters 5 and 10, and in 1Timothy 4:10. So does the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews at the end of chapter 9,[27] as does Jesus in the parable of the wedding feast, among others.[28] There is a role for man in our salvation, for grace can be resisted. This synthesis would suggest that this role is not positive, as medieval Catholic practice posited, but negative, the cessation of something. Thus, sin since the Cross is not wrong doing so much as failing to take advantage of our rehabilitated state and use it to do right.[29] Sin still plays a role, but from Good Friday on, it is secondary, not primary. Where sin can still prove a snare, however, is that sin clung to and repeated will eventually grieve the Holy Spirit, who will be unable to animate us to love and good works, and we will in the end prove fruitless, a dried branch.[30] Note that in John 15 where Jesus speaks of these branches, he says that they were originally “in me,” that is, justified.

 

If this somewhat binary understanding of God’s plan of redemption is accurate, then it explains all of the problems the Protestant church has been experiencing. Further, it explains how the Roman church can continue to do what the Protestants cannot: talk about authority and behavior. In doing so, Catholics are helping their people play host to the Holy Spirit and be saved. With the exception of ardent evangelicals, Catholics are alone in talking about the evils of divorce, abortion, sex apart from the prospect of conception, same-sex adventurism, euthanasia, and abandoning the Church. Mainline Protestants, by contrast, who pride themselves on their theological acuity, have no response for those who would turn the Church into either a progressive political institution or a laboratory for exploring the latest moral depravity.

 

A complementary synthesis of this sort is acutely needed in the Church, for only by it can there be progress in both ecumenism and evangelism. Ecumenism because it allows for a new definition of a Christian. A Christian is anybody who is willing to accept both forgiveness of sin and power to live, vicariously from Jesus Christ. Both Roman and Protestant need to realize that the Reformation of the 16th century was both warranted and imperfect. It was warranted because the Papacy had vitiated the Gospel through political and economic adventures. Further, non-Scriptural constructs such as Original Sin, merits, and extra sacraments obscured the simplicity and efficacy of the Gospel. The Reformation was imperfect in that the belligerents on both sides overstated their case and accepted schism instead of synthesis. God hates both things, error and schism, and it’s time that we in the Church repent of both. Evangelism too, waits for a revised soteriology, because until the watching world sees Christians of whatever stripe engage in objective self-examination, it will not listen to what we have to say. My Bishop once observed after watching the movie, Titanic, that when the ship broke up, both halves sank.

 

[1] Luther wrote his mentor, Johann von Staupitz, vicar general for the Augustinian order in Germany, “For I hoped I might find peace of conscience with fasts, prayer, and the vigils with which I miserably afflicted my body, but the more I sweated it out like this, the less peace and tranquility I knew.” From The Works of Martin Luther, cited by James Kittelson, Luther The Reformer (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Publishing House, 1986), p. 84.

[2] Summa Theologica, 1st part of 2nd part, Question 109, Article 7.

[3] Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Publishing House, 1949), p. 15.

[4] Summa, 1st part of the 2nd part, Question 5, Article 7.

[5] Summa, 1st part of the 2nd part, Question62, Article 2.

[6] Summa, 1st part of the 2nd part, Question 5, Article 7.

[7] Summa, 1st part of the 2nd part, Question 114, Article 3.

[8] Summa, 1st part of the 2nd part, Question 114, Article 1.

[9] Summa Theologica Third Part, Question 62, Article 5.

[10] Ibid, Supplement, Question 17, Article 1.

[11] Aquinas produced “subtlety, but not wisdom” according to Will Durant. The Story of Philosophy (New York: Washington Square Press, 1969), p. 104.

[12] Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians, p. 64.

[13] Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians, p. 66.

[14] “…we say that God once established by his eternal and unchangeable plan those whom he long before determined once for all to receive into salvation, and those whom, on the other hand, he would devote to destruction.” Institutes of the Christian Religion (Philadelphia, PA: The Westminster Press, 1960), p. 931.

[15] The Works of James Arminius, Volume III (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1986), p. 496.

[16] Ibid, Volume I, p. 664.

[17] The Reformation, The Story of Civilization VI (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1957), p. 490.

[18] The Book of Common Prayer, The Holy Eucharist.

[19] James 2:14-26.

[20] Luther writes: “Under the papacy people were charitable and gave willingly; however, now under the gospel no one gives any more, but everyone simply extorts from the next person, and each wants to have it all to himself.” Sermons of Martin Luther, Volume 2, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1996.) p. 233.

[21] For Luther, see his Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians, p. 16; for Calvin, see the Institutes, p. 922.

[22] Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians, p. 19.

[23] The ordo salutis is based upon Romans l8:28-30, and refers to the “order of salvation.” Read as a logical sequence, the verses make no sense. Read as a Hebraic chiasmus, they refer to savings acts of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, respectively.

[24] On December 6th, 1273, Aquinas experienced a long ecstasy during mass, and refused to write more. To Fr. Reginald he said, “I can do no more. Such secrets have been revealed to me that all I have written now appears to be of little value.” The Catholic Encyclopedia (Online Edition: Kevin Knight, 2003), biography of Thomas Aquinas.

[25] The Reformation, p. 104.

[26] Romans 5:9,10 and 10:9,10.

[27] Romans 5:9,10 and 10:9,10, Hebrews 9:28.

[28] Matthew 22:1-14.

[29] James 4:17.

[30] Matthew 3:29, Matthew 12:31.

Mar 28
0

Open Letter to Rome

By | Cleric Comments, Serious | No Comments

In view of the generally miserable shape of the Protestant Church in today’s world, many are returning to Rome. This is understandable, because in shifting times, Rome offers genuine consistency and stability. One must not forget, however, that the Protestant Reformation of the 16th century took place for very real reasons, not all of which have been healed by time. Therefore, I address a number of objections that were raised by the Reformers, which have yet to be dealt with by Roman authorities. When and if they are, I predict genuine rapprochement in the Church will become possible.

 

Clerical Celibacy. Clerical celibacy is not Scriptural, and is in fact contrary to the practice of the early Church. For some reason, abstemious behavior has always plagued religions, and Christianity has not been immune. No good thing has been immune to prohibition: food in general, meat in particular, alcohol in all its forms, recreation, sleep, comfort, and of course, sex. The irony is obvious, because Christianity is in fact the most physical, humane, and merciful of religions. Efforts to curtail the opportunity to marry and have families have been based upon many considerations, some potentially valid. One that is valid is a desire to be free from distractions in ministry. Others that are not valid are the Church’s desire there be no wives and children to contest inheritance rights. A modern corollary is that single priests have lower salary demands.

 

The prohibition on clerical marriage is a policy, not dogma, and can be changed at any time by Papal edict. It is time for such an edict. Whatever marginal benefits unmarried clergy might provide, the costs are far greater. Since the inception of marriage prohibitions there has been violation on both sides of the fence. On the one hand, clergy have continued to have sex with women and beget children, no doubt to the harm of all. On the other hand, Holy Orders have attracted sodomites who feel the ministry will explain why they are not married. The damage done to the Roman Catholic Church and the reputation of our Lord Jesus Christ is incalculable. Clerical celibacy has given many people the excuse they need for why they do not have to go to church.

 

Mary. God bless Mary. Preoccupation with Augustine’s teaching that Original Sin was transmitted through sexual intercourse means that Mary, if a child of normal sexual relations by her parents, must have been sinful. And if she were sinful, how is it that her child, our Lord, was not somehow contaminated? All this is nonsense. Mary was overshadowed by the Holy Spirit; Jesus was in fact the Son of God by a miracle. No father was involved. On the one hand, it can be argued that sin is passed on by fathers, not mothers. Whatever. A more reliable argument is that when Jesus took the sins of the whole world upon himself on the Cross, the sins of all were atoned for. There is no limit to the power of the blood of Jesus, in spite of what Calvin says. Christ’s sacrifice justified all, including those born before Good Friday. This includes Mary. Most compelling, however, is the fact that Original Sin is a human construct, not necessarily a Scriptural one. It implies the presence of something pernicious. A better understanding is that it is not a presence, but a lack. As of the Fall we lost our spirit, and in its absence we find ourselves incapable of doing right. When we are filled with the Holy Spirit, we recover our capacity for holy living.

 

And while we’re at it, the whole business of praying to saints has to go. In the words of Jesus, “I am not saying that I will ask the Father on your behalf. No, the Father himself loves you because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God.” If Jesus says this about himself, then all the more reason that we should we pray directly to the Father and bypass the whole panoply of saints and martyrs. It has been said that when Christianity became the state religion of Rome, Roman Catholic theology became a pagan script with a Christian cast. There is some merit to this view. Cut out the middlemen, and go straight to the source, the Father, as Jesus admonishes us.

 

Transubstantiation. Historically, the sacrament of Holy Communion has been the crux of disagreement between Roman and Protestant. The Catholic understanding is that with the words of institution, the bread and wine actually become the body and blood of Jesus. He is re-sacrificed each time the Eucharist is celebrated, and when he is sacrificed, grace is released to the participants. More on grace anon. To one degree or another, this understanding was rejected by the Reformers. It variously became a memorial only, or the body and blood of Christ while remaining bread and wine, or somewhere in between. In typical Anglican indecision, the elements conveyed the “real presence” of Jesus, whatever that means. All this may be missing the point Jesus was making at the Last Supper.

 

Good sacramental theology addresses the value of the sacrament from two perspectives, that of God and that of men. First, God’s point of view. When Jesus instituted the Eucharist, he was a Jew speaking to Jews and talking about a new covenant. What would the apostles have heard? If this was a new covenant, what was the old? They would have harkened back to Genesis 15 and the inauguration of the first covenant. And what did that ceremony consist of? It involved flaying animals, placing them in a ditch, and then walking between the animal halves in the company of the other testator. Reference is made to this practice in Jeremiah 34, where it is clear that if the covenant is broken, the fate of the transgressor would be the same as that of an animal that was cut in two. In the case of Genesis 15, the covenant was consummated by a flaming torch and a smoking pot, perhaps the Father and the Son, without the help of Abraham, who was asleep. So if this was the form and meaning of the first covenant, what about the second, new covenant established by Jesus? His emphasis was not on the fact that the bread and wine were becoming his body and blood, but that the bread and wine represented his body and blood, as opposed to that of animals. Thus, the new covenant would be based upon the flaying of the Lamb of God, and therefore be final and perfect. When Christians kneel at the altar and receive the consecrated bread and wine, they are reissuing an invitation to God to come into their hearts and nourish the life of Jesus in them, that he might rule as Lord of their lives. This invitation must be restated on a regular basis, just as the body needs food for nourishment on a regular basis. We are confessing our need for power from without, from Jesus himself.

 

From man’s perspective, we need to be assured that we, no less than the apostles, are included in the new covenant. It is an anamnesis, more than a memorial, where the basis of the new covenant is recapitulated in our presence to make a transcendent event personal. Note, the new covenant was solemnized at the Last Supper, not the Cross. The Eucharist is not designed to repeat Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross; the Cross and our justification are more closely related to Baptism. Rather, Communion is to be associated with the prior establishment of a new covenant the night before, when Jesus instructed his disciples in great detail and prayed for them. Although the Synoptics recount only the words of institution, John devotes five chapters to instruction on how the disciples, and we, are to treat each other, as demonstrated in the washing of feet. Further, he talked of the coming of the Holy Spirit and how we would enjoy a new dimension of fellowship with him. If there is a miracle in the Eucharist, and there is, it is not that the elements become the body and blood of Jesus per se, but that the loaf and cup become the same loaf and cup Jesus used that Last Supper. Instead of bringing God to us, as transubstantiation attempts to do, we should understand that the purpose of the Eucharist, and all sacramental ministry, is to take us to God. Again, not the Cross so much as the Last Supper. We were there, and the promises and commissions Jesus gave the disciples in John chapters 13 through 17 he gives to us anew each week. We are heritors of his ministry no less than they. The Liturgy of the Word tells us what has happened to others. The Liturgy of the Table allows those same things to happen to us. Isn’t that enough?

 

Doctrine of Grace. Rome and Reformer agree that without grace, we are nothing. The question is, what is grace, and how is it generated and received? Rome has rightly stated that Grace, in all its forms, emanates from Christ and is most readily received in the sacraments of the Church. The list of forms and functions of grace is beyond the scope of this appeal, but suffice it to say that to a Protestant, Roman Catholic teaching appears to hold that grace is an impersonal, fungible asset that can variously be received as a gift, earned as a payment, kept until death, and exchanged, if in sufficient quantity, for eternal life. Further, the Catholic Church claims to be the sole dispenser of grace, as a corollary to the keys to heaven having been given to Peter in Matthew 16. Grace, they say, is conveyed through the seven sacraments, and as such, membership in the Catholic Church is a requirement for receiving it. What is good about this approach is that Rome has not confused justification, the forgiveness of sins, with salvation, success at the final judgment where we are judged for the good we either did or did not do. This is a necessary distinction found in Paul, Hebrews, and Jesus’ parables. Simply stated, God is looking for a response to his redemptive acts in history. There are things he alone can do, and other things he expects us to do, or stop doing, that he will not do for us. We can influence our spiritual destiny by decisions and actions taken in life. Our lives are sacred; they mean something.

 

The Roman approach is bad, however, in that grace is described as an impersonal force that can put God in debt to his creation, as if his relationship to his children were somehow transactional. God is sovereign, and cannot be manipulated by his creatures, for good or ill. The parsing of grace into types and sequences is to do violence to the fundamental fact that grace is not a force, but a person. Remember that we are placed in Christ legally or forensically by the Cross, and Jesus is placed in us effectually, at least in potential, by Pentecost. This mutual interpenetration is God’s solution to the damage done to his children by the Fall, when we became morally guilty and spiritually craven, unable to effect reform by our own efforts. It is only by having Christ in us that we are able to escape from the dilemma Paul describes in Romans 7, where we can know right, but cannot do it. Thus, grace in all its forms is simply the Spirit of Jesus in us, distributed to all who submit to Him as Lord. This makes sense of the warning about the only unforgiveable sin, blaspheming the Holy Spirit. If you grieve the Spirit of Jesus in you, he will leave and we will be left to struggle through life unable to bear fruit and be saved. This also explains the phenomenon of hardening, where God, in his love for us, shows us in this life what existence is like without God, that we might repent and avoid an eternity without him after death.

 

If grace is Jesus in us, we can come to an understanding of how grace is conferred, received and maintained. Just as we should be kind to guests in our home, we should be kind to Jesus in our hearts. He is Savior, to be sure, but he also has a second title, that of Lord. The relationship of a subject to his lord is one of submission of the lesser to the greater. This leads to a new definition of a Christian: a Christian is somebody, anybody, who is willing to receive both forgiveness of sins and power vicariously from another, even Jesus Christ. Jesus is not fungible; you do not receive him as payment for a debt, nor as a reward for good going. You receive him on the basis of pure gift that must be treasured and obeyed if you are to play host to him as the Father intends.

 

The Catholic Church has done a wonderful job of keeping grace front and center; it has allowed them to continue to talk about behavior and authority, long after the Protestant Church has abandoned these concepts as unnecessary or philosophically untenable. Take this one step and personalize grace, as Jacobus Arminius did, when he would capitalize Divine Grace when referring to the Holy Spirit.

 

The Ordo Salutis. What separates Christians and indeed all theistic religions is how they explain God’s redemption of a sinful humanity. A summary of such a formula has been preserved for us in Romans 8:29 and 30. These two verses have caused more confusion than they have allayed because the sequence the events are listed in: foreknowledge, predestination, calling, justification, and glorification, makes no sense. How can we be justified, forgiven, late in the process? Protestants in the Reformed tradition are particularly flummoxed, because they maintain that some are justified by divine fiat, and therefore confuse foreknowledge with justification. Rome has dealt with the confusion by calling salvation a process that is peculiar to the individual, dependent upon the accumulation of grace.

 

All confusion can be avoided, however, simply by reading the verses as a chiasmus, reflecting Paul’s training as a rabbinical scholar. Thus, the first and last actions of foreknowledge and glorification, are monergistic actions of the Father, reflecting decisions made in his eternal counsels about what kind or class of people will benefit from his plan of redemption. Predestination to actual sanctification and thus conformance to Christ’s likeness, the second reality, and justification, the fourth, are monergistic actions of the Father involving the earthly, temporal ministry of his Son Jesus. We are justified by his death and we are sanctified by his on-going resurrected and ascended life. The conclusion of the chiasmus, the third reality, is calling, namely, the on-going ministry of the Holy Spirit in the lives of those who are triumphing over the difficulties of actual life in a hostile world. Thus we have God acting to redeem us, as Father, Son and Holy Spirit, not as a linear sequence as a Western or Greek reader would expect.

 

The advantage of this hermeneutic should be recognized by both Roman and Reformer.   The Catholic reader doesn’t have to come up with a mercantilistic understanding of grace nor a mechanistic view of the Sacraments to lead a successful life. They simply have to understand that both our problems of moral guilt and powerlessness are taken care of by Christ, first in his death and then by his life. The Protestant, and especially those in the Reformed tradition, can redefine those concepts that have become twisted and therefore injurious to the reputation of God: foreknowledge, predestination, and calling. Foreknowledge refers to types or classes of people, not individuals. God has simply said this plan of redemption will benefit those who love him, not those who hate him. And predestination no longer refers to the selection of some for salvation and some for reprobation, but rather the desire on God’s part that those whom he adopts as children should resemble, more and more, his Son Jesus while they live. He wants genuine, observable improvements in us as we play host to the Spirit of his Son. Finally, calling becomes a rational event in the lives of believers, where they experience the incoming of the Holy Spirit, and henceforth choose to obey God rather than the destructive forces in the lost world around them.

 

I’m done. The validity of the mission and work of the Catholic Church cannot be over-stated. It constitutes an enduring witness to sacred history that has changed little, thankfully, for over two millenia. Its tradition of requiring a response to God’s saving initiatives is correct, and stands in stark contrast to the Protestant inclination to speak of justification as the be all and end all of Christian experience. The Catholic Church stands almost alone in resisting the encroachments of modern society in terms of behavioral mores, sexual activity that cannot accommodate reproduction, abortion, euthanasia, divorce, and coercive political movements. In the main, she does things right, even if for the wrong reasons. Any hope for ecumenical rapprochement or evangelical success must, of necessity, involve the Roman Catholic Church. This is important because Jesus will not return until his Church, his bride, reaches some degree of maturity. There is much the Protestant Church needs to repent of as well, notably the ordination of female presbyters and the accommodation of sexual deviance. All thoughtful and obedient Christians want and pray for the Church to be one, holy Catholic and Apostolic. If a few impediments on either side can be dealt with, that vision that seems so far off can become a reality.

Jul 05
0

Spiritual Hardening: A Correction

By | Cleric Listens | No Comments

Spiritual hardening is perhaps the most misunderstood and consequently abused concept in soteriology, perhaps even in all of theology. The common understanding is that God hardens people arbitrarily so that they can’t understand and submit to the Gospel of redemption. The most popular case of hardening is probably that of Pharaoh beginning in Exodus chapter 7, where it says “I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, and … he will not listen to you.” And later we read, “Yet pharaoh’s heart became hard and he would not listen to them, just as the Lord had said.” Paul cites this affair in his letter to the Romans, chapter 9, where we read,

 

“It does not, therefore, depend on man’s desire or effort, but on God’s mercy. For the Scripture says to Pharaoh: ‘I raised you up for the very purpose, that I might display my power in you and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth.’ Therefore God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden.”

 

Paul goes on to point out that those who are hardened are incapable of resisting this process and therefore become objects of his wrath. These passages and others have led many, notably John Calvin, to conclude that God picks some for salvation and others for hardening and reprobation on an arbitrary basis. Thus the genesis of the concept of double predestination and the conclusions of the Synod of Dort in 1618-19. Ever since that Synod, virtually all of Protestant Christianity has accepted this notion that the minority are destined for eternal bliss, while the majority are consigned to eternal punishment; the former to show God’s mercy, and the latter to show his justice. The only dissenting voice has been that of Jacobus Arminius and his followers, the Remonstrants, who were declared heterodox at Dort and either murdered, imprisoned, or extradited. As they say, winners write history.

 

To figure out if this is the true meaning of hardening, it is helpful to go back to how God redeems a sinful humanity in the first place, thereby placing hardening in its proper context. My contention is that to have a coherent, Biblical soteriology, you must go back before any ecumenical council and read the Scriptures anew. Paul makes a distinction, little noticed, between justification and salvation. He does this twice in Romans, once in chapter 5 and again in chapter 10. This distinction is assumed in all his other writings, but these are the two most explicit discussions. What he says is that we are justified or forgiven on the basis of Christ’s sacrificial death, and we are saved by his on-going life conferred in the person of the Spirit. Justification, therefore, is universal; he died “for the sins of the whole world.” Efforts on the part of those in the Reformed tradition to limit justification, eg/ “limited atonement,” are popular but nevertheless unscriptural. The blood of Christ knows no limits on its efficacy; there is nothing we can do by way of work or sacrament to help the Cross. As of Good Friday, all are forgiven; placed “in Christ” in a legal or forensic sense. Note that in the two NT visions of the last judgment, people are not confronted with the sins they committed, but rather examined on the basis of the good they either did or did not do. This is not to suggest anything along the lines of a crude universalism. There are two halves of redemption, and being “in Christ” is only half. There’s also the other half, “Christ in us,” that is related by Paul to salvation. This is the life he talks about, and having our names in the “book of life” that Revelation alludes to. There are two judgments, one on sin on Good Friday, and another on fruitlessness at the last judgment. Thus we see there are two problems we have, guilt and powerlessness, two solutions, Christ’s death and on-going life, two titles for Jesus, Savior and Lord, two historic events affording us redemption, Good Friday and Pentecost, and even two sacraments, baptism and Eucharist. Leaving the last point aside, we should see that it’s entirely possible, in fact common, for people to be justified but subject to judgment and loss on the last day because they were unwilling to play host to the Holy Spirit and thereby bear fruit pleasing to God. The parables of Jesus often mention that it is possible to be invited to the wedding feast or whatever, and still be found lacking and failing to please God.

 

So if you can accept this scenario, just what is God looking for by way of response to his gracious forgiveness procured for us by Jesus? Clearly he’s not looking for works; this is the whole argument of Paul’s letter to the Romans. The Law cannot confer righteousness, this has to come “from God.” So if not works, what then? If blaspheming the Holy Spirit is the only unforgivable sin, what is its opposite? The testimony of all of Scripture, especially in the NT, is that we are to recognize God’s authority to exercise control over our lives, cede our will, and become obedient to the will of Jesus, who is not only Savior but also Lord. We are asked not to do something positive, but to stop doing something: rebelling and going our own way. A good metaphor from the Bible is the story of King David in 2 Samuel 23, where he longed for a drink from the well near the gate of Bethlehem, controlled at that time by the Philistines. When the three mighty men broke through the lines, got the water, and presented it to David, he refused to drink it. “Far be it from me, O Lord, to do this! … Is it not the blood of the men who went at the risk of their lives?” David had the right to drink the water, but recognizing that procuring it involved great sacrifice, he didn’t take advantage of his right. So too, all of us who are bequeathed a free will are nevertheless presented with the blood of Christ, by which he earned the right to be our Lord, and are asked, in effect, “Will you exercise your right to be your own Lord, or will you recognize the sacrifice of Jesus, and cede your will to him, and pour your will out on the ground as David did the water of Bethlehem?”

 

Viewed in the context of this rational, orthodox and thoroughly Biblical plan of redemption, where does hardening fit in? Is hardening a cause or a consequence of “blaspheming the Holy Spirit,” the only unforgivable sin? Indeed, according to Arminius, it is a consequence, not a cause. In his work A Brief Analysis of the Ninth Chapter of St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans, he points out that that Jacob and Esau are types, those that seek justification either by faith or by works, respectively.[1] And God hardens those types or groups of people who persist in sin.[2] Returning to our model of redemption mentioned above, this makes perfect sense. To persist in sin after God’s invitation to repentance is to “blaspheme the Holy Spirit,” to so provoke him to anger that he withdraws from the heart of the obdurate, leaving them, in Calvin’s words, “totally depraved.” We see, therefore, that hardening is not a positive imposition on the sinner, but rather the negative withdrawal of the Holy Spirit, our only source of power for doing good. Grace must be defined as nothing less than this “Christ in us,” God’s willingness to dwell in us making us once again spiritual creatures, and capable of something besides works of sin.

 

Armed with this insight, let us return to Romans 9. Ishmael, Esau and Pharaoh are therefore types. As Paul says in Galatians 4, “These things may be taken figuratively”.[3] Ishmael represents those who use human ingenuity to “help” God, ignoring his promises and substituting a short cut of their own device. Esau represents those who favor their physical appetites, literally, over God-ordained responsibility, while Pharaoh represents those who worship amiss. In his case, he thought himself a god and said, “Who is the Lord that I should obey him?”[4] Collectively they represent the avenues of temptation faced by all people, whether in mind, body or spirit. We see that God was hardening these men, not arbitrarily, but because they had already evinced attitudes and behavior that God had, in his eternal counsels, already deemed worthy of rejection and reprobation. This is the true meaning of choice and election. God has determined that he chooses or elects to salvation those who love him and please him rather than those who hate him and disobey him. Again, types or classes of people, not individuals. And they are hardened after the fact, not before.

 

These insights do much to restore the reputation of God, long sullied by the double predestination of Reformed theology. Predestination is salvaged as well, for it is not the arbitrary edict that some individuals go to heaven and some to hell, but is in keeping with the entire verse in Romans 8, “he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son,”[5] Predestination has nothing to do with God’s decree regarding salvation, but rather his decree that those who serve Jesus has Lord should receive sanctifying grace in this life to make them resemble Him more closely.

 

Calvin was right about many things, but not all things. He was right that apart from the ministry of the Holy Spirit, we cannot do anything right. We can know it, as Paul points out in Romans 7, we just can’t do it. So what becomes paramount to all people is this one thing: are we willing to receive both justification and power vicariously from Jesus Christ, or are we not? If we are, we will be fitting hosts to the ministry of the Holy Spirit, and we will love other Christians and bear fruit for eternity. If we are not, we will so grieve the Holy Spirit that he will be able to do nothing through us and will depart. This is the meaning of hardening: whatever grace we might be endowed with at birth, a conscience to know what is right, will be gradually withdrawn if we ignore the commands Jesus issues as Lord. That conscience will eventually be “seared as with a hot iron,” and we will lose the ability to know right from wrong, let alone choose aright.[6] The process of hardening is thus slow but inexorable to the spiritual obtuse. It is done by God for two reasons: first to show the impenitent sinner what life will be like without God, both in this life and the life to come. Secondly, to show the watching world what life looks like without the aid and blessing of the Holy Spirit. Believers and unbelievers alike should look with horror upon the life lived without grace. God always redeems something from his children, even if it is only that they serve as a bad example to others.

[1] The Works of James Arminius. Volume 3, pp 493,4.

[2] Ibid, p. 506.

[3] Verse 24.

[4] Exodus 5:2.

[5] Verse 29.

[6] 1 Timothy 4:2.

Mar 22
0

John 3:5 Revisited

By | Cleric Comments | No Comments

The Problem

 

The earliest reference I can find to someone saying the Church is full of “baptized pagans” suggests it was an American Jesuit named Schumacher who made this observation while teaching a course on Church history. My first hearing of it came from one of the luminaries of the renewal movement in the American Episcopal Church, I forget who. Whatever its source, it is indeed true that the Church is full of people who are baptized, yet who do not evince any Christian piety at all. The list of notorious sinners who had nevertheless been baptized is impressive, including Joseph Stalin and Adolf Hitler. There are no doubt others. My point in all this is that we need to ask: why baptize if it seems to be ineffectual, in and of itself, in doing all the Church claims it can do?

 

And what are those claims? It appears as though baptism has been granted remarkable standing from the earliest times. A common thread in discussing the power of baptism is a favorable interpretation of Jesus’ words recorded in John 3:5. “… I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of god unless he is born of water and the Spirit.” St. John Chrysostom, writing around the turn of the fourth century, states in his homily 25 on this verse that “water” does indeed refer to the water of baptism, which he says is equally important with the Spirit in bringing about regeneration. Says he:

 

That the need of water is absolute and indispensable, you may learn in this way. On one occasion, when the Spirit had flown down before the water was applied, the Apostle did not stay at this point, but, as though the water were necessary and not superfluous, observe what he says; Can any man forbid water, that these should not be baptized, which have received the Holy Ghost as well as we? Acts 10:47

 

This interpretation of the term “water” in John 3:5 was codified by the Roman Catholic Church through the work of Thomas Aquinas. Writes Thomas:

 

From these two sacraments the Church is born: from baptism, “the cleansing water that gives rebirth and renewal through the Holy Spirit,”

 

Thomas’ Summa Theologica was adopted as the official doctrine of the Roman Church, just below the level of papal Decretals, and his interpretation of the “water” of John 5:3 was formalized in this excerpt from the official Church catechism of 1213:

 

            The Sacrament of Baptism

Holy Baptism is the basis of the whole Christian life, the gateway to life in the Spirit, and the door which gives access to the other sacraments. Through Baptism we are freed from sin and reborn as sons of God; we become members of Christ, are incorporated into the Church and made sharers in her mission: Baptism is the sacrament of regeneration through water in the word.

 

The Roman view of John 3:5 was carried over in toti by the Protestant Reformation. Luther said that in this verse “water” refers to baptism in a literal sense. John Calvin states that the term “water” is used figuratively, as it operates “like the Spirit” in its cleansing function. Writes John:

 

“I therefore simply understand ‘water and Spirit’ as ‘Spirit, who is water.’ … So to be reborn of water and the Spirit is but to receive that power of the Spirit, which does in the soul what water does in the Body.”

 

The baptismal office in the 1559 Book of Common Prayer shows that the English reformers were of the same view as Luther, and actually quote John 3:5. In the Elizabethan prayer book we read:

 

DERELY beloved, forasmuche as al men be conceived and borne in synne, and that our saviour Christ saith, none can entre into the kingdom of God (except he be regenerate, and borne a new of water and the holy gost) I beseche you to cal upon God the father, throughe our lord Jesus Christ, that of his bounteous mercy, he wil graunt to these children, that thing which by nature thei can not have, that they may be baptized with water and the holy Ghost, and received into Christes holy church; and be made lively membres of the same.

 

This expanding view of baptism was also included in the 39 Articles of Religion. The 27th articles reads:

 

XXVII. Of Baptism.


Baptism is not only a sign of profession, and mark of difference, whereby Christian men are discerned from others that be not christened, but it is also a sign of Regeneration or New-Birth, whereby, as by an instrument, they that receive Baptism rightly are grafted into the Church; the promises of the forgiveness of sin, and of our adoption to be the sons of God by the Holy Ghost, are visibly signed and sealed, Faith is confirmed, and Grace increased by virtue of prayer unto God.

 

What we see is that by this time the water of baptism is capable of producing not only new birth or regeneration, but entrance into the Church, forgiveness of sins, and adoption as children of God. These themes continue in all Anglican prayer books, and find full expression in the 1979 American BCP, where we read in the Thanksgiving over the Water

 

“Now sanctify this water, we pray you, by the power of your Holy Spirit, that those who here are cleansed from sin and born again may continue for ever in the risen life of Jesus Christ our Savior.”

 

This brief review of Church doctrine shows several things that are of interest. First of all, the pairing of water and the Spirit in John 3:5 has produced an early and enduring idea that this verse refers to the water used in baptism. Secondly, we see that on this point at least, Roman and Protestant are in complete agreement. Finally, we see that as time went on, the specificity of the claims made about the water used in baptism became amplified, in spite of the evidence that water baptism per se was anything but automatic in producing faithful Christians.

 

This divergence between doctrine and reality should cause alarm to anybody interested in Church health. Was Jesus in fact saying what everybody since St. John Chrysostom says he is saying? After all, Jesus never emphasized baptism in his ministry; His disciples baptized, but he did not. The only reliable account of Jesus telling people to be baptized is in his post-resurrection appearance in Matthew 28. Mark 16:16 is a later emendation of questionable accuracy. What did Jesus say instead to those whom he healed? “Go and sin nor more,” or “Go, show yourself to the priests.” In 1 Corinthians 1:17 Paul denigrated the baptismal rite in comparison to other forms of ministry, saying that he did not come to baptize, but to preach. In Hebrews 6:2 we are encouraged to consider baptism, among other things, as elementary concerns. The story of the Samaritan Christians in Acts 8 shows that water baptism did not induce Spirit baptism, as does the story the members of Cornelius’ household in Acts 10, already cited by Chrysostom, and the account of Apollos in Acts 18. John the Baptist goes to great lengths to distinguish between his water baptism and the Spirit baptism that Jesus is to inaugurate. Any attempt to make water baptism and Spirit baptism coincidental flies in the face of the balance of Scripture. John 3:5 stands alone if “water” is to be understood as referring to the water of baptism.

 

An Explanation

 

If “water” in this verse does not refer to the water of baptism, then just what does it refer to? To find out, a fresh exegesis of John 3:5 is in order. We don’t know much about the circumstances surrounding Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus, but we can make a couple of careful assumptions. First of all, Nicodemus came at night, which would be unusual, and was probably done because he wanted to evade detection. Even early in his public career, Jesus was held in deep suspicion by the Jewish authorities, and Nicodemus no doubt wanted to keep this encounter quiet. Further, Luther points out that Nicodemus would have been a champion of the Law as a means of achieving spiritual redemption, and as such, Jesus would be anxious to disabuse him of the value of this approach. This might explain Jesus’ seeming peremptory declaration, “I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.” Nicodemus, understandably, equates a new birth with a repetition of our physical birth, the only sensible application he could make. Jesus dilates on Nicodemus’ interpretation, making immediate reference to physical birth. Says he, “…no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit.” There is no reason to expect Jesus to begin talking about sacramental rites. Nicodemus, as a Pharisee, can be expected to be looking for human actions that can satisfy legal requirements. Jesus, on the other hand, is talking not about something we do, but something God does to and for us; quite the opposite of what Nicodemus would expect. So he takes Nicodemus’ starting point, physical birth, and redefines it as a new beginning, to be sure, but of a spiritual, not a physical nature. Water can be closely associated with physical birth, in that the arrival of a child is demarcated most closely by the expression of amniotic fluid. The theme of physical birth is validated immediately by Jesus’ statement in verse 6 that “Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit.” This is classic Hebrew parallelism, wherein the same statement is made twice using different words to offer both clarity and emphasis.

 

This exegetical conclusion is echoed by Donald Guthrie in his seminal New Testament Theology. Writes Donald:

 

One passage in John which may have a bearing on baptism is John 3:5 (‘born of water and the Spirit’), for some interpret the water as referring to the baptismal rite. A problem which arises is to decide what Nicodemus would have understood by the allusion to water. If he had understood baptism it would presumably have referred to the baptism of John the Baptist. Yet there is not hint that the Baptist ever linked his baptismal rite with regeneration, nor is there reason to suppose that Nicodemus would have done so. Since Nicodemus regarded the allusion to new birth in a literal sense and referred it to a mother’s womb, it would be reasonable to suppose that being born of water was a reference to physical birth, which was therefore being linked with spiritual birth. It was as if Jesus has said, “you must be born spiritually as well as physically.” Indeed, even if Nicodemus had not understood the reference to ‘water’ in the sense of baptism, it is perhaps more likely that John’s readers would have done so.

 

            There is no way being certain which of these alternative interpretations is correct, and at most it can be said only that there is a possible reference to baptism. If so there would not only be linking of water-baptism with spiritual regeneration, but also a clear distinction between them. They cannot be made to support the view that regeneration takes place in the act of baptism. Indeed, the fact that Jesus speaks of the impossibility of detecting the precise movements of the wind, and then uses it as an illustration of spiritual rebirth, suggests that spiritual renewal cannot be identified in time with any external event like baptism. Some have attempted to avoid this conclusion by differentiating the baptismal act from the subsequent affirmation of faith, but the John Passage gives no indication of this. The most important contribution of this passage, if it refers to baptism at all, is its emphasis on the spiritual life.”

 

Indeed. What is clear is that from the earliest times, western Christians or those under the philosophical influence of Greece have tended to ignore the rhetorical tools used by Jews, Jesus in particular, and instead have taken a crude, literalistic interpretation of the Biblical record. It is only by ignoring the clear parallelism of John 3:5 and 6 that one can come up with a reference to baptism in this exchange between our Lord and Nicodemus. In spite of the latter’s expectation that Jesus would advocate something by way of legal observance, Jesus says that we should instead be prepared to undergo a change in ourselves, not wrought by us, but by God. To hear a reference to a ritual observance is completely out of keeping with Jesus’ clear intent. Implicit in Jesus’ corrective is that what we need is to be restored to our prior status as a three part creature, mind, body and spirit, as before the Fall. By interjecting a human ritual into the conversation as opposed to a sovereign work of God, the sense of the exchange is reversed 180 degrees. The new birth is no longer something God does for us, but is something engineered by man. Baptism is no longer something that helps us, but something that helps God. Instead of hearing Jesus talk about Him in us effectually, we hear about we in Him legally. Instead of hearing about an event that is particular and contingent, we hear about something that is universal and automatic. Instead of hearing about Jesus as Lord, we hear about Jesus as Savior. Instead of hearing about Pentecost, we hear about Good Friday. These are all valid insights, but they are to be found elsewhere in Scripture and not in John 5:3. To put them here is to obscure the true intent of John in recording this unique encounter with Nicodemus. Whereas all are justified by Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross without our knowledge, consent or participation, not all are filled with the Spirit. This is because the latter does require our knowledge, consent and participation, if only in a negative and not a positive sense. We cannot generate Spirit baptism, but we can thwart it by grieving the Holy Spirit and making him unwelcome in our hearts, the seat of our will.

 

A Solution

 

At this point it would be helpful to review God’s plan of redemption and how he intends to redeem a sinful humanity. A graphic representation is in order.

 

 

Actor Man’s Problem Attitude as of the Fall Solution Historic Event Extent Our Position Relative to Christ Associated Sacrament 2

Judgments

 Role of Christ Event in Theological Terms
God Guilt Enmity with Man Blood of Christ Good Friday Universal We in Christ legally Baptism On Sin Savior Justification
Man Power-

lessness

 Enmity with God Life of Christ Pentecost Particular Christ in us effectually Eucharist On Fruitless-ness Lord Salvation

 

 

There are two actors, God and man. There are two problems due to the Fall, we are guilty and powerless to reform ourselves. God has two solutions, both involving his Son Jesus. By his death we are justified; his blood covers the sins of the whole world. We have been placed in Christ forensically. The sacrament involving our justification is baptism. It is a celebration of what God has already done for us: we are forgiven. It is a one-time affair, like the death of Christ, and is universal in its effects. There is no limit to the power of the blood of Christ. Attempts to limit its effect demean his sacrifice and blaspheme God. The cross puts all humanity in the position of Christ; we are in Him. By his life, on the other hand, he enters into us effectually, and offers the power to reform, bear fruit, and find salvation. The sacrament involving our on-going life in the Spirit is the Eucharist; by it we nourish the life of Christ within us and are empowered to bear fruit and be found worthy at the second judgment. If baptism looks to Good Friday, the Eucharist looks to Pentecost, when the Spirit of the Living Lord was poured forth upon humanity. When “water” in John 3:5 is understood to refer to baptism, Jesus’ emphasis, the bottom row of the chart, is lost and the focus shifted to the middle row; an entirely different proposition. The role we have in our regeneration, namely ceding our will and playing host to the Holy Spirit, is lost. This explains the presence of baptized pagans in Church.

 

If this binary understanding of God’s plan of redemption is true, then much in popular soteriology needs to be reexamined. Is John Chrysostom wrong? Are Aquinas, Luther, and Calvin wrong? I would have to say, on this point, yes. There. I said it. Is the Book of Common Prayer, in all its iterations, wrong on this point? Yes. But it’s been wrong before. There are problems with at least two of the Articles of Religion, and it’s dead wrong when it says in the Rite of Confirmation that the reason the Holy Spirit was withheld from the Samaritan converts was because Bishops were needed to confer the Holy Spirit. As Michael Green astutely observes, the reason the Spirit was withheld was not because of a deficiency in clerical personnel but because God wanted the Jerusalem Christians to witness and participate in the blessing of Samaritan Christians, thereby healing an even greater divide than that separating Jew and Gentile. The BCP in all its forms conflates and confuses the two dominical sacraments, variously ascribing forgiveness of sins and Spirit baptism to each. A revised soteriology that adheres to Scripture and makes sense would go a long way towards clearing up Church doctrine and practice.

 

Conclusion

 

This article does not attempt to deal with all that baptism is, nor the Eucharist, nor does it provide a comprehensive soteriology. It merely aspires to document how one fallacious interpretation of a single verse can take on a life of its own and stifle theological reflection for millennia. You cannot amplify the water of baptism without devaluing the Spirit baptism Jesus is really talking about; it’s a zero sum game. Witness the 1979 American BCP, where Confirmation is reduced to feather bedding for bishops while Baptism is elevated to magic. There is indeed magic discussed in John 3:5, but it’s not a magical rite that we do that forces God to do things: forgive, empower, transform. Instead it’s a magic of what God can do in the individual who prior to anything else, yields his will to Jesus as Lord, putting no restrictions on what he will do by way of obedience. This is the magic of predestination, wherein God predestines those who allow Jesus to be their Lord to “be conformed to the likeness of His Son.”  The problem of the Church is not that we baptize, but that we don’t catechize and Confirm in addition to baptizing. If we can resume these neglected activities, then the problem of pagans in Church will largely be solved. The only ones who remain will be those who are dragged there by their spouses or who like the music. Another great quotation I can’t find the source of, but which is nevertheless germane:

“The Devil doesn’t oppose churches, he joins them.”

Nov 19
0

Preface to the Definitive Roguecleric Commentary on Paul’s Letter to the Romans

By | Cleric Listens | No Comments

 

This commentary is neither comprehensive nor exhaustive. It is meant to serve as an emendation and corrective to what others have written. I am a great admirer of D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones’s six-volume commentary on Romans 3:20 to 8:39, the portion of the letter he felt was paramount. He left chapter 9 untouched, however, which is a shame. Martin Luther made extensive reference to Romans, saying in his preface to his German translation, “This letter is truly the most important piece in the New Testament. It is purest Gospel. It is well worth a Christian’s while not only to memorize it word for word but also to occupy himself with it daily, as though it were the daily bread of the soul. It is impossible to read or to meditate on this letter too much or too well.”[1] He traces his theological conversion to contemplating verse 1:17, and John Wesley came to personal faith while listening to a sermon that quoted Luther’s preface.

Romans is Paul’s most self-consciously theological letter. Typically, his letters focused on pastoral issues generated by the struggle of living a Christian life in a pagan world. Romans has its share of pastoral admonitions, but from the outset, Paul is looking for opportunities to depart from the immediate to focus instead on the eternal, to use the pastoral as a springboard to address the theological. Once the theological foundation has been laid, he can return to the pastoral. For him, doctrine leads to understanding, understanding leads to hope, and hope leads to godliness.

Paul’s theological concerns revolved around what he calls the mystery of God, namely, how a humanity divided into Jew and Gentile could be reconciled to God and each other that they all might become one. His audience in Rome is predominately Gentile but nevertheless includes prominent Jewish members. Paul is therefore faced with the challenge of introducing concepts that may be novel to one group or the other, without losing touch with either one. Even though Paul was eminently successful in achieving balance in his presentation, we in the West have been relatively unsophisticated in our interpretation of the text.

I maintain that all our theological conundrums are caused by reading a Jewish or Eastern document, the Bible, with a Western or Greek mindset. While this is a problem when reading the rest of the Bible, it becomes critical when reading Romans. It’s not that Paul showed his own cultural limitations by thinking and writing like a Jew, but that as a Jew he was in possession of concepts and insights that cannot be translated into an Aristotelian idiom without alteration and loss. As will become clear in my exposition, there is a reason God chose one people as his medium of specific revelation: a long history of interaction with God has given the Jews a unique spiritual and intellectual heritage. We have to read and think like them if we want to understand that revelation. We in the West have let our cultural and intellectual prejudices obscure the fine balance Paul worked so hard to achieve.

Let me be specific. To really understand Paul, you have to remember that as a Pharisee, he used the rhetorical tools most favored by rabbis in their scholarship and disputations. Chief among these tools is that of symmetrical parallelism, or chiastic structure. Instead of a linear sequence of syllogistic deduction, as Greeks tended to favor, the Hebrew rabbis, Jesus included, would construct an argument that makes a series of points, each following from that which precedes it. They reach a conclusion, and then the argument is repeated in reverse order until they return to the starting point. Thus, the points in a seven-step chiasmus could be viewed as ABCDCBA. Each intermediate step shares a similar thought with its corresponding step. Sometimes these thoughts are simple repetition, sometimes the second is a corollary to the first. This device can be found in a single sentence, a paragraph, or even the whole document. It was used to show the inherent logic of the statements being made; to provide clarity in a written medium that lacked spaces, sentences, paragraphs, capitalization, punctuation, or other delimiters; and to aid in memorization where written documents were the exception rather than the rule. As we will see, to read a chiasmus as linear thought can lead to confusion and genuine suffering.

Another tendency is for Paul to express himself in the form of a diatribe—that is, an informal rhetorical dialogue with imaginary opponents. Sometimes he labels his antagonists, “Now you, if you call yourself a Jew,” but he’s usually content to refer to his audience in abstract terms that render his attacks less threatening. The translation introduces labels that help clarify this back and forth repartee: Paul, Jewish Teacher, or Teacher of Law. Further, Paul employs litotes, where he uses double negatives to assert a positive.

Finally, in addition to what Paul did, we should pay attention to what he did not do. He avoids terms that would tend to defeat his intention of bringing reconciliation to a mixed congregation of both Jew and Gentile. For instance, he avoids the term church in the opening address. Nor does he speak of Christians, for he doesn’t want to act as though Judaism is totally bankrupt and being replaced. Further, he avoids speaking of synagogues because they have historically been the province of Jews alone. He knows God is making a new humanity in Christ, and he avoids using terms that hearken back to old distinctions. Instead, he speaks of family and the unity implied by that concept. His overarching theme is that we can all join God’s family, where he’s a benevolent father who has met all our needs in the person of his son. He speaks variously to Gentiles, then Jews, then back again repeatedly. He’s always mindful of the criticisms his ideas will arouse, and he’s careful to deal with each in its turn. Every once in a while, he’s able to drop his defenses and sing a hymn of praise to God without reservation.

In order to display the rhetorical structure of this epistle, I’ve used Robert Bailey’s translation of the Greek text,[2] the Novum Testamentum Graece.[3] The Scripture is laid out in cascading format to illustrate the chiastic form as perceived by its modern translator, in an attempt to reconstruct what Paul originally intended. Words in italics indicate text not found in the Greek source. The Bailey translation precedes my comments. Robert Bailey and I both provide footnotes for further clarification and commentary—his are primarily concerned with rhetorical structure, mine with exegetical interpretation. His notes appear immediately following the scripture excerpts, while mine follow normal footnote patterns. My footnotes are intended to complement his. The New International Version of the Bible is by necessity a paraphrase, edited in order to read better and offer more clarity. When it provides something the Bailey text misses, I have added it with notation. In addition to using italics for emphasis, words in my comments that are italicized are keywords pulled from the scripture passage. Words that are capitalized in the body of a sentence should be understood as referring to cardinal concepts or typologies.

The overall structure of the letter forms a chiasmus along the lines of ABCBA:

 

[EXT]A) 1:1–7

  1. B) 1:8–17
  2. C) 1:18—15:13
  3. B) 15:14—16:23
  4. A) 16:25–27[/EXT]

 

Thus, A and B consist of greetings, housekeeping preliminaries, and buttoning up. The main body of the text, C, consists of insights into God’s plan of redemption that has revolutionized the standing of all humanity, Jew and Gentile, in his eyes. This main body, which is extensive, can be further subdivided as a chiasmus along the lines of ABCCBA:

 

[EXT]A) 1:18—3:20: Jews and Gentiles have both dishonored God.

  1. B) 3:21—4:25: Jews and Gentiles alike can receive righteousness from God.*
  2. C) 5:1—8:39: All are justified, those who live by the Spirit are also saved.*
  3. C) 9:1—11:36: God’s plan of redemption as experienced by Jew and Gentile.*
  4. B) 12:1—13:14: Life in the Spirit within the church and society.*
  5. A) 14:1—15:13: Potential cultural conflicts between Jew and Gentile.*[/EXT]

 

* I have renamed all sections except the first and have included these titles in the chapter introductions. Bailey’s original titles are included with the text of the scripture.

It is interesting to note that the major exegetical blunders that have been committed by interpreters of this epistle have occurred in the two sections of conclusion labeled C above. In the case of Romans 5, we have no commentators to my knowledge who make a distinction between justification and salvation, as Paul does. Like Calvin, they assume this is simple parallelism or repetition, not a profound distinction that clarifies the rest of Christian soteriology.[4] In 8:29–30, my exposition shows that a linear interpretation leads to misunderstanding, while a chiastic interpretation leads to clarity and logic. In this way I’m able to offer a reconstituted Ordo Salutis, a genuine first. In the case of Romans 9, most commentators, including Calvin and Luther, adopt a literalistic approach as opposed to metaphorical. The result, especially for Calvin, is an atrocious image of God who hates his creation.[5] Time and again in these critical sections, chiastic structures play an important part in conveying the sense of Paul’s argument. These and other themes are repeated whenever warranted by the text.

Chapter designations in the Bible are arbitrary at best, but they serve to divide the text and commentary into manageable portions. For ease, my chapters correspond with the text of Romans. Because theologians do not always use words in the same way, I’ve appended a Glossary of Soteriological Terms at the end of the commentary to document how I understand these words. I believe I am using them in the sense Paul was. Let us keep Paul’s goals and methods in mind as we read the text and confront those passages that have led to the doctrinal and denominational confusion that characterizes the Christian church today. We should read Paul according to his methods and intentions, not our own.

[1] Luther, Preface, lines 1–2.

[2] Bailey, “God’s Good News to the Romans.”

[3] Nestle et al., Novum Testamentum Graece.

[4] Will Durant says of Calvin, “ . . . 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.” Durant, The Reformation, 490.

[5] Frederick Calder writes of Calvin’s view of God: “ . . . as a being of whom, in point of malignity, the prince of the lower regions is but a faint image and expression. . . . far more odious than anything ever dictated by the prophet of Mecca.” Calder, Memoirs of Simon Episcopius, 267–68.

 

 

To order this commentary, please use this link: https://www.amazon.com/Romans-Definitive-RogueCleric-Commentary-Rhetoric/dp/172527394

 

Nov 19
0

The Ordo Salutis: Corrected

By | Cleric Listens | No Comments

The ordo salutis, or order of salvation, has been a legitimate theological pursuit from the earliest times. The term was apparently first used by Lutheran scholars in the 1720’s, and it refers to the chronology of God’s plan of redemption. Though it has been most thoroughly developed in the Protestant church to fuel the Calvinist/Arminian controversy, it is a useful framework for discussing soteriology in any branch of the Christian tree. Based largely on Paul’s thinking as revealed in Romans 8:28-30, one would think that these three verses would be readily parsed and clearly understood. Instead, the opposite has happened. What appears to be a simple chronology of steps in how an individual is redeemed, turns out to be anything but simple. Taken as a linear sequence, it defies logic and Scripture; as evinced by the on-going controversy it engenders.

 

It is the intent and purpose of this paper to show that a Greek or Western exegesis of these verses which understands them to be a linear, temporal sequence is in fact in error and untrue to the intent of the author who was himself a Jewish or Eastern scholar. Versed in the rhetorical tools of the Pharisees, Paul used their structures and techniques not to obscure, but to elucidate. Without an appreciation of what those structures and techniques are, it is impossible to understand Paul’s meaning. By recovering that appreciation, Paul’s intent becomes clear, as does the subject of this paper, the ordo salutis.

 

Chief among Paul’s rhetorical tools was the use of symmetrical parallelism, or chiastic structure. Chiastic structures involve the development of a logical argument along the lines of an X, or chi, where a logical assertion is made, which leads to at least one and perhaps more assertions, eventually evolving into a conclusion in the interior of the structure. Then, the logical argument is repeated in reverse order, wherein each element leading to the conclusion is either repeated or complemented somehow, until the first element is matched. Thus, a seven element chiasmus would be represented as A,B,C,D,C,B,A, where D is the conclusion. Chiasma can be found within a sentence, paragraph, or an entire document; often enfolded within one another. They were used by Hebrew scholars for any number of reasons, including the desire to show the inherent logic of the statements being made, to provide clarity in a written medium that lacked spaces, sentences, paragraphs, capitalization, punctuation, or other delimiters, and to aid in memorization where written documents were the exception rather than the norm. Our appreciation for symmetric parallelism is relatively recent, dating from the late 18th century. Even then, most scholars were content to view rhetorical structures as stylistic phenomena, without particular regard for the ultimate impact they would have on the arguments proffered by the authors. This focus has changed only recently, mostly in the latter half of the 20th century. As a result, culturally sophisticated exegesis has been lacking with regard to the soteriological arguments that have swirled around the ordo salutis. I hope to show that this application is long overdue, and can provide the clarification that Protestant, and indeed all Christian theology, desperately needs.

 

Application: Romans 8:28-30

 

Verse 28 is not part of a chiasmus, but instead is an introduction and qualifier for the chiasmus that is to follow. Specifically, Paul is setting forth the group or population of those to whom God issues calls. Is salvation universal? Of course not. The testimony of all of Scripture is that God’s plan of redemption is universal in concept and potential, but in reality is somehow limited in efficacy. Calvin and his sycophants have ascribed this reality to the belief that God has chosen some for salvation and the balance for reprobation on an arbitrary basis, by somehow limiting the atoning power of Christ’s blood on the Cross. Jacobus Arminius, among others, has countered that it is through God’s omniscient foreknowledge of our response to the Gospel that grace is limited to some and not all. I contend that although Arminius’ vision of God is less odious than that of Calvin, it, too, misses the point of this verse. What Paul is saying is that God redeems a select group, to be sure, but it is a group that self-selects according to one criterion: they love God. This accords readily with the balance of Scripture, that says that God has chosen to redeem those of a “noble and good heart,” who “obey,” and put God’s Word “into practice.” There is nothing capricious about membership in this group.

 

The corollary to loving God is to be called by Him according to his purpose. The temptation here is to see calling as the first step in a logical, temporal sequence in the ordo salutis. I contend that this is premature, and that the second half of this verse is merely stating that those who love God qualify for God’s plan of redemption, which results, as far as the experience of Paul’s readers is concerned, with experiencing a call from God. More anon.

 

Now for the fun. I would represent verses 29 and 30 in the following form:

 

A – “For those God foreknew…”

 

B – “he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those he predestined…”

 

C – “he also called; those he called,…”

 

B – “he also justified; those he justified…”

 

A – “he also glorified.”

 

Thus, we see that A represents actions of the Father, who foreknows or elects a certain kind of person, somebody who loves and obeys him and who puts his Word into practice. This kind of favored individual is ultimately rewarded with glory when they complete their service on earth, a “good and faithful servant.” These are monergistic actions that reflect God’s eternal counsels outside of time.

 

B represents actions of the Son, or developments that involve the instrumentality of Jesus the Christ, and though they, too, are monergistic, they differ from the A themes in that they are subject to historic witness. Note that predestination, a term that occurs six times in the Greek, has no particular soteriological overtones. The other two places in Scripture where it refers to God’s plan of redemption are found in Ephesians, where Paul uses it to encourage his Gentile readers that God, in his eternal counsels, has decided that Gentiles as well as Jews are eligible for redemption. It cannot be interpreted as referring to some sort of cosmic roulette whereby some are consigned to salvation and others to preteration. It simply means something is already decided; it is part of a larger scheme that is inviolate. Here it refers not to the accepted late medieval usage that God predestines some to heaven and some to hell, but rather the determination that those who are elect, on account of their response to the Gospel, will in fact be sanctified or improved upon in an objective way on account of their association with Christ in the person of the Spirit. God is not interested in mere acquittal for a rebellious humanity, but in an actual, observable reformation of manners. Although we necessarily filter and diminish the person of Jesus who dwells in the heart of a Christian, we nevertheless present a more mature, holy and integrated persona than we would have prior to our conversion. It is the Father’s intention that we join a new family, a family wherein he’s the Father and Jesus is the chief sibling, and that we become his agents for the spread of the Gospel and the ultimate redemption of all humanity.

 

The great imperative suggested by the B theme in this chiasmus is twofold. Mentioned first is the determination of the Father that Christ be found in us; that we play host to Jesus that he might bear fruit through us. Although this violates the logical priority of any ordo salutis in chronological terms, it is mentioned first by Paul because it is contingent. There is an element of synergy here because although our conformance to Christ is a predetermined desire of the Father, it is nevertheless particular because it involves our cooperation. It is not that we must perform a work, that we actively do something of our own engineering, but that we cease to do something, and that is to maintain our rights, recommit Adam’s sin of self determination, and thereby grieve the Holy Spirit so that he cannot work through us. The sacrament associated with the necessity that Christ be found in us is the Eucharist, wherein the believer kneels, and by taking the elements affirms that just as the body requires physical nourishment from without on a regular basis, the life of Jesus in his heart also requires regular nourishment from Him. Here is further proof that a sequential interpretation of these verses serves Paul’s purposes poorly.

 

The first action Jesus performs for us from a theological perspective is also a B component, but it is presented second because it is a universal fait accompli for all humanity. That is, we are justified, one and all, by Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross. In contravention of accepted Reformed soteriology, there is no limit to the power of the blood of Christ. As we read in the parable of the wedding feast, God invites all to the feast, good and bad. The two accounts of a last judgment in Matthew 25 and Revelation 20 do not mention sin as a basis for disqualification. Rather, what is mentioned in these two accounts is not bad things done, but rather good things not done. In the former account it is largesse withheld from fellow humans, specifically Christians, and in the latter it’s the absence of the life of Christ in us. Just as Christ is expected to be in us, we are all unilaterally placed in Christ from a forensic, legal perspective as of Good Friday. The sacrament tasked with communicating this reality is Baptism, and an associated Confirmation, wherein we both celebrate our prior and efficient justification, and also identify with Christ’s death to self-will that we subsequently allow. The B component of this chiasmus can be summarized as the sovereign determination that there be a complete interpenetration between the believer and Christ, all made possible through Good Friday and Pentecost. What counts in Paul’s mind is not which of the two components is presented first, but rather that these are the historical manifestations of prior determinations of the Father, and as such are trustworthy.

 

The conclusion to the chiasmus is found in the concept of calling. As Paul said in verse 28, God calls those who love him and who therefore cooperate with His plan of redemption. The Romans were apparently beset with troubles and persecutions, as Paul goes on to acknowledge. Paul places these burdens in context by saying that they are the norm for any person who aspires to follow God in a lost, pagan world. This call, to complete the picture, is the province and action of the Holy Spirit. As Oswald Chambers points out, “The Holy Spirit is the Deity in proceeding power Who applies the Atonement to our experience.” This call can be answered, or it can be resisted. Thus, the logical conclusion to Paul’s picture of God’s plan of redemption is that there are monergistic actions outside of time, A, that are the Father’s province alone. Then there are monergistic actions, B, that culminate in events in time and history, one of which is independent of human response, and one of which is not. C represents God’s decision to involve his human children, and it therefore becomes contingent in some way. For the plan to work there must be a synergy between God’s plan and our heart. Our action is not positive that it be regarded as a Pelagian work, but rather a negation, the cessation of a work: the pernicious work of rebellion initiated by Adam.

 

A reconstituted ordo salutis from God’s perspective would be as follows:

 

1) God elects those who love him, as a class, to participate in his plan of redemption.

2) God determines that those who love him will join a new family as his children, and predestines that they will be conformed to the likeness of his Son.

3) God ordains that Jesus should die on a Cross in place of a sinful humanity and thereby justifies all. God raises his Son from the dead to validate our justification.

4) Jesus ascends to his former glory as previewed in the Transfiguration.

5) As of Pentecost the Spirit of Jesus is poured out on all who are willing to accept righteousness and power vicariously from Jesus.

6) God commands his children to preach the Gospel to all the world that all might perceive a call to membership in God’s family.

7) God confers glory on all those who bear fruit.

 

All these are monergistic decisions that God has made from eternity, God being something of a supralapsarian, knowing that a free humanity would fall and require redemption. Four of them have historical referents, events witnessed in time and place, though proceeding from God’s eternal counsels, and having efficacy not limited to time or place.

 

A reconstituted ordo from man’s perspective would be as follows:

 

1) We hear the Gospel preached and our conscience bears witness to its truth. It is attractive because it posits monergistic actions that bring assurance. We learn that God is both rational and kind in terms of whom he favors and rewards. We find that in Christ our two major problems are solved, those of guilt and powerlessness. We realize that a response to these unilateral actions on God’s part is warranted. They constitute a personal call.

2) Such a gracious Savior has the right to be Lord; we cede our will to him.

3) The Father confers the Holy Spirit on all that are disposed to receive both righteousness and power vicariously from Christ. Sanctification begins, we are conformed more and more to the likeness of Christ.

4) Empowered by the Holy Spirit, we bear fruit in other lives.

5) At death, we receive glory and honor as a good and faithful servants.

 

Conclusions

 

The advantages of an exegesis of Romans 28-30 that takes Hebrew rhetorical structures into account are many. First of all, it delivers us from the illogic of a sequential model that makes no sense. To place justification, which is universal, near the end of a temporal sequence, is to require the development of fantastic concepts such as limited atonement. To interpret calling, the end of the process from the perspective of human agency as first, and make it a synonym for election, is to deny humans the role in their redemption that God has graciously offered. Foreknowledge, which is in fact a synonym for election, no longer has to refer to the arbitrary selection of some individuals over others, but rather refers to God’s legitimate and fair decision to seek collaboration and fellowship with people who love him rather than those who hate him. Predestination is liberated from reference to foreknowledge, election, calling or choice, to refer instead to a simple desire on God’s part that his love and power be evinced in real lives in real history with real benefits for all. Perhaps glorification is the only step in the ordo salutis that emerges from the pages of history with something of its actual meaning intact, that God can and will reward those who please him at the heavenly banquet.

 

Most importantly, a culturally and intellectually correct exegesis of these verses allows an ordo salutis that conforms to the clear intent of the balance of Scripture, particularly the parables of our Lord. Most notably, it solves the conundrum of universality and particularity in redemption. All are invited and justified, but not all are saved. How can this be? Paul makes a distinction between justification and salvation in Romans 5:9,10 and 10:9,10. They are not the same. All are delivered from moral guilt, not all are spared at a second judgment, this time not for sin, but for fruitlessness. Jesus is Savior of all, but evidently he is not Lord of all. To bear fruit you must play cooperative host to the Holy Spirit, for apart from Him we can do nothing. Unless we bear fruit, as represented by wedding garments freely offered to all guests, we will be evicted from the presence of God. The branches that are burned as useless were originally “in Me.”

 

Further, these verses conform to a larger, coherent soteriology. Two actors: God and man. Two problems: guilt and powerlessness. Two solutions, both involving Jesus: his death and his life. Two historic events: Good Friday, and Pentecost. Two sacraments: Baptism and Holy Communion. Two titles for Christ: Savior and Lord. Two judgments: Good Friday and the Final Judgment. Two outcomes for man: glory or reprobation.

 

The only hope for ecumenical rapprochement and effective evangelism is an accurate understanding of God’s plan of redemption, the ordo salutis. As long as churches, denominations, communions and factions cling to their shibboleths of soteriological error, the Church will be enervated and the parousia delayed. Christ, a gracious groom, waits in his Father’s house for a bride to reach a maturity that will allow their marriage and the consummation of the ages. For two millennia an accurate explication of God’s mode of redemption has been before us. If we can learn to love him with our scholarship as well as our hearts, we can break out of our self-imposed limitations and become the children, and Church, God has always intended us to be.