Theological Musings

any of you who know me, or who have been reading this blog for some time, know that I often struggle with just accepting the “party line” explanations about things. For me, it’s not good enough to say that “So-and-so stated it this way”, regardless of the reputation of said So-and-so. Their testimony might (and probably will) bear weight on the topic, if it is corroborated by others, but on its own, it doesn’t carry enough weight to convince me.

This has been part of my frustration with many theological topics. There seems (to my mind) to be a lot of just quoting other theologians out there. Theologian A quotes Theologian B in support of some point. Theologian B is actually just parroting Theologian C, however. So when Theologian A then turns to Theologian C as additional “evidence”, I get skeptical. Sometimes, it can even turn out that Theologian C quotes Theologian A, and the circle is complete.

One such topic that frustrates me is the topic of inerrancy. Now, please understand that I’m not bashing the idea of inerrancy. I think there may, indeed, be quite a bit of merit to it. However, I’m struggling with understanding the importance of that particular doctrine. More importantly, I’m struggling with the fact that both inerrancy and inspiration almost always carry a disclaimer with them that says that those characteristics are only certain “in the original manuscripts”. In other words, documents that appear to no longer exist. So what does it really buy us? If we leave that loophole open, how important is the doctrine, and of what use is it?

What frustrates me, as well, is the fact that the doctrine seems to not really be defended very clearly. A lot of presuppositions are brought to the table. Now, I realize that we all have presuppositions. But what frustrates me is when those presuppositions are 1) not recognized as such, and 2) treated as if they were already proven. Sometimes the presuppositions are so strong that “evidence” given is not evidence at all, or might even contradict the conclusion.

Recently, another blogger linked to a book edited by Norman L. Geisler called simply Inerrancy. It is actually a compilation of 14 papers written by different theologians. In the chapter entitled “The Early Church Through Luther”, Robert D. Preus begins with the following statement (pp. 357-358):

That the Bible is the Word of God, inerrant and of supreme divine authority, was a conviction held by all Christians and Christian teachers through the first 1,700 years of church history. Except in the case of certain free-thinking scholastics, such as Abelard, this fact has not really been contested by many scholars. Of course, many of the early church fathers and an even greater proportion of the medieval theologians did not directly address themselves to the subject of biblical authority. The former simply assumed the doctrine of biblical authority on the basis of an understanding of Scripture that was shared by both Tannaite Judaism and the early Christians. The latter developed a notable lack of interest in biblical studies and in seeking answers directly from Scripture for questions and concerns of the day….

But just as we can establish Scripture’s teaching of its own divine origin and authority on the basis of what is assumed rather than what is explicitly articulated there, we can clearly delineate the doctrine concerning Scripture held by the Christian church and its theological leaders from postapostolic times through the Reformation era…. On no other point do we notice such unanimity….

Here is a chapter that purports to give evidence that the church has always believed in inerrancy. For additional weight, the author also throws in “supreme divine authority” as something that was supposedly believed.

But does anyone else see the problem with the “evidence”? Here’s the premise again:

That the Bible is the Word of God, inerrant and of supreme divine authority, was a conviction held by all Christians and Christian teachers through the first 1,700 years of church history.

Now, one would expect this to be backed up with a plethora of evidence. This is a bold statement, and one which apparently warranted its own complete chapter in this book. But right after making this claim, the author then states:

Of course, many of the early church fathers and an even greater proportion of the medieval theologians did not directly address themselves to the subject of biblical authority.

Huh? This “conviction” was “held by all Christians”, and yet many of the writings we have don’t even directly address it? How can we know that it was held, then? Furthermore, with regard to the early church fathers, he goes on to say:

The [early church fathers] simply assumed the doctrine of biblical authority….

How can we know this? If a collation of writings from various authors in a particular period of time do not address a particular issue, how can we know that they “assumed” anything?? Oh, but it gets better! Don’t forget the medieval theologians who supposedly believed in the divine authority of Scripture unanimously as well.

[They] developed a notable lack of interest in biblical studies and in seeking answers directly from Scripture for questions and concerns of the day….

I’m sorry, but that doesn’t sound like biblical authority at all to me! How can one claim that a group of theologians believed a certain point when 1) they didn’t address it, and 2) they actually demonstrated evidence of moving in the opposite direction?!? A “notable lack of interest” in actually studying the Bible and/or seeking answers from it hardly indicates a profound belief in its inerrancy or divine authority.

The author appears to recognize that a lack of actual evidence might cause one to doubt his conclusion. So, he then uses an analogy that is supposed to make us feel better about his lack of evidence:

[J]ust as we can establish Scripture’s teaching of its own divine origin and authority on the basis of what is assumed rather than what is explicitly articulated there, we can clearly delineate the doctrine concerning Scripture held by the Christian church and its theological leaders from postapostolic times through the Reformation era….

I’m not even sure where to start with this paragraph. How can we “establish Scripture’s teaching” about anything if it’s not stated? We can do this “on the basis of what is assumed”? Assumed by whom? And what are the parameters on these assumptions? This is “argument from silence” at its worst and in awful proportions — and is the primary evidence given in support of a thesis!

Further, the notion that we can “clearly delineate the doctrine concerning Scripture” from people who, by the author’s own admission, didn’t even address the topic is ludicrous. Again, this is argument from silence. “They didn’t address it, so we can assume that they must have believed a certain way about it.”

Am I missing something? Does this make sense to anyone else??

And finally, the author concludes with this preposterous statement:

On no other point do we notice such unanimity….

I am speechless. Unanimity?? On an issue that is not addressed? Sadly, this is what seems to pass in evangelical circles as “proof” for something. It appears to be nothing more than coming to the table with one’s mind already made up about the conclusion, no matter what the evidence — or lack of evidence — might show.  Surely we can do better than this, can’t we?

Until next time,

steve

t’s not uncommon for there to be discussions among believers as to what information, what message, what truths are the heart of what we call “the gospel”. Answers will be almost as varied as the number of people asked!

Lately, I’ve been really mulling this question over in my mind. During the course of my 39 years, I have been through several phases of what I believed was central to the gospel message. And I have heard many different explanations of what the gospel message truly is.

Part of this question is made difficult because it appears that different presentations of the gospel in the New Testament took different approaches to the subject matter. There is not one “method” of evangelism displaying predominantly in the New Testament. Nor is there one set “sermon” that was given. There may be something to note in that. But that’s not really the point of this post.

The question of what information is part of the gospel message can lead to some heated debates. Some would propose that it is necessary to present five very specific propositions (I won’t go into specifics, but the acronym might or might not spell the name of a particular type of flower!). Others believe that it is only necessary to present the fact that all have sinned, and that there is a Savior who has paid for that sin. Still others believe that an “orthodox” understanding of the Godhead is necessary to be presented.

Some preach the gospel with an emphasis on the bad news. “Sinner! Sinner! Sinner! Sinner! Oh, and there’s a Savior.” Others skip the bad news and just preach a message that basically says, “You got problems? He’s got solutions.”

In recent years, I have been looking at Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 15:3-4 as the basic gospel message, and the only message necessary to proclaim. I got this from the fact that Paul says he delivered that message to the Corinthians “as of first importance”.

However, lately, I have been rethinking this. Let me explain why. Paul’s list of what he “passed on” doesn’t stop at the end of verse 4. So, if I were to say that Paul’s statement of what was “first importance” reflects the heart of the gospel, I think I would have to do justice to the grammar and sentence structure by including the fact that Jesus actually appeared to certain people and certain groups of people after his resurrection.

Now, these are all very positive things to share with people when proclaiming the gospel, but I’m not sure that they are the very central elements of the gospel. They help explain the gospel, but what is the very heart of it?

In thinking this through, I have begun looking closely at 2 Corinthians 5, specifically 2 Corinthians 5:14-20. Allow me to quote it here for you:

[O]ne died for all, therefore all died; and He died for all, so that they who live might no longer live for themselves, but for Him who died and rose again on their behalf.

Therefore from now on we recognize no one according to the flesh; even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, yet now we know Him in this way no longer. Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come. Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us; we beg you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.

A couple of things stand out to me in this passage:

• The truth about Jesus is all about reconciliation. Reconciliation of the whole world to God.
• That “word of reconciliation” has been committed to us to proclaim to the world, “as though God were making an appeal through us”.

It seems to me that what Paul is saying is that the heart of the gospel message is that God has already reconciled the world to Christ. We have the privilege of proclaiming this great and glorious “good news”!

Furthermore, it would appear that when Paul talks about “recogniz[ing] no one according to the flesh”, it would appear that he is referring to the idea of seeing everyone to whom we proclaim the gospel as reconciled to Christ. I may flesh (no pun intended!) this out in a future post, but wanted to make mention of it here because I think it may be significant.

This emphasis on a ministry of reconciliation seems to parallel very nicely with what Paul proclaimed in Acts 17:22-31 in Athens, Greece. He quoted a poet/philosopher in saying that we (mankind) are all God’s children, and that we “live and move and have our being” through our Father. (That phrase has often been quoted referring to life in Christ, but Paul is not using it in that context.) And while his audience did not know this “unknown god” prior, Paul proclaimed him to them.

So, the heart of the gospel? We are reconciled to God through Christ!

The gospel is not a weapon with which to threaten people. It’s not a guilt trip to make people feel awful about their lives in ignorance of the good news. It’s not a call for behavior modification. It’s not a sales pitch. It’s not a way to build our own human empires. It’s the good news of a loving Father with whom mankind had a relationship that was severed, which relationship has now been restored!

It’s already been done…and that truly is “good news”!

Until next time,

steve

here have been very interesting discussions taking place both here in the comments on this blog and over at Scott’s in relation to the recent posts Scott and I wrote. I have been away from my computer for most of the afternoon and evening, so I have been unable to engage all of the comments.

At the risk of confusing people, I want to respond here with what would have been a very lengthy comment. There are some things that I really feel the need to clarify, and some things that I would like to continue to plead with my readers to consider.

I have not at all been trying to argue that any of this has to do with forcing or making God do something. Once again, the original point that I made that started all this was in response to those who are teaching that healings, etc. are not at all for this time and that their sole purpose in NT times was for authentication of the message. (By extension, this also includes the concept that the “completion of the canon” took the place of these authenticating events.)

This is, I think, an important distinction, because it significantly narrows the scope of what I’m arguing for, and what I’m arguing against. I am not a fan of theology that says if we act a certain way that God has to act a certain way in response.

However, having said that, I think it is important to consider what patterns we do have revealed. More on that in a bit.

Let me also make crystal clear that in none of this am I trying to explain or seek a “formula” for guaranteed miracles. All I have tried to do is point out patterns in scripture. I’m trying to work with what scripture says first and foremost before drifting off into “I don’t think…” or “Well, I know it says that, but…”

In light of that, there are some passages that are not entirely clear. Several have mentioned Paul’s infamous “thorn in the flesh”. The reality is, we do not know what that thorn was. It is described as a “messenger of Satan”. This is a phrase that is never used elsewhere in scripture to describe a physical ailment. If, indeed, it was a demon, or a person who was irritating Paul, God does, as he told Paul, give us the grace to deal with those things and not to be hindered or irritated by them.

And this is even more important: This passage does not say that God told Paul “no” to a healing request. In fact, God doesn’t actually say “no” to Paul at all in that passage.

Which brings me to my next point. I see absolutely no record anywhere in scripture where someone asked Jesus to heal them and he said, “No, I think I want to let you stay this way for some purpose.”

I think it is important that we deal with the clear passages of scripture and not brush them aside by focusing on something that is ambiguous.

Someone else mentioned Job’s comment “Though he slay me, yet will I praise him.” I’ve hesitated to respond to this, but I think I’m going to stick my neck out there and give my response to this. Personally, I do not think that Job’s comment represents an accurate portrayal of God’s character. This is in the same line of thinking as Job’s incredibly “popular” statement, “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.”

We are told by Jesus himself that he came to reveal the Father to us. “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father,” Jesus said. So what we see in the character of Jesus is a revelation of the heart of the Father.

Now, let me ask you this: From what we see of Jesus and what he taught and revealed, is it God’s desire or will to slay us?? No, no, no, a thousand times no! Jesus died so that we can live!!

Along the same lines, is it God’s desire or will to give us something and take it away from us frivolously, as Job claimed? No. Jesus drew an analogy with human fathers wanting to give their children good gifts and asked, in essence, “If sinful human fathers act this way, how much more do you think your heavenly Father will act toward you?”

Job was accusing God of taking things from him, tearing him down, etc., and demanding an audience with God to make God answer for it all. How can we base our theology and understanding of God on such a misunderstanding to the point of discounting what God himself revealed through Jesus??

Some have hinted that I’m looking at this from the angle of man somehow getting credit for healing. Let me hasten to clarify that, as well. Is it all in God’s power and to his glory? YES!! I absolutely believe that!! Let there be no mistake about that. But God has revealed through Jesus that there is a kingdom available to us that is not of this world, and when he revealed that kingdom, he included things that we either pay lip service to, or outright deny.

I am simply asking the question of whether that is wise or not. When I asked whether we should be teaching this stuff, what I basically mean is whether or not we should tell people that God wants to heal them. The prevailing trend in our western culture is to actually tell people that God may not desire to heal them. Yet I am not seeing any solid scriptural basis for this.

Again, let me ask where someone ever came to Jesus or the disciples for healing and they told them “no”. This is not an argument from silence here. This is arguing on the basis of a plethora of accounts in multiple books of the Bible.

Finally, let me say that in no way am I suggesting that we are to go around judging other people’s faith. Some comments have hinted that talking about the element of faith in a healing necessarily leads to this kind of judgment.

What I am saying, however, is that we should examine our own belief. If we believe that God doesn’t want to heal us, then we can’t expect to be healed. If we believe that God only chose to say “yes” to healings through Jesus and that he doesn’t choose to do that today, there is no reason that we should ever see healing take place. We may, but we have no reason to think that we will.

So, some questions for some possible groups of readers here:

1. Those of you who believe that God is not always willing to heal, can you explain to me the basis for that belief?
2. Those of you who believe that faith is not an important part of receiving a healing, can you explain to me how you answer the numerous times (and they are quite plentiful — just read through the first four books of the New Testament) that Jesus mentions faith with regard to the healing?
3. Those of you who believe that the completion of the canon supplanted the healings and miraculous events of the first century, can you explain the basis for that belief, please?

When Jesus proclaimed the kingdom of God, did he go around actually placing illnesses on some people, refusing to heal others who asked for it, killing some people, striking others blind, and then telling them to just deal with it, that it was all part of the way things are for now? No, he did none of that.

Why would we proclaim a message that is in any way different than the one that he proclaimed?

Until next time,

steve

n response to my “You Might Be Misrepresenting God” post, Scott Roche and I have been engaged in what is turning out to be the continuation (no pun intended, Scott!) of an unfinished conversation from earlier in the fall.

Scott’s a good online friend, and I appreciate the engagement with him anytime it presents itself. We differ on some interpretations of scripture (who doesn’t?!), but I never feel like Scott is questioning our fellowship as brothers. For that, I am very appreciative. (And Scott, we need to hit up Starbucks in Winston together sometime soon, bro. I’d love to chat about stuff in person with you.)

So anyway, Scott responded on his blog about miracles. You can read the post, simply called “Miracles”, here.

I started to respond on Scott’s blog, but as often happens with me, my comment became quite lengthy, and I decided to put it here as a post instead of taking up Scott’s bandwidth with it.

Scott mentioned a great statement of Jesus as part of the discussion, and then offered his commentary:

Christ said “Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do, he will do also; and greater works than these he will do; because I go to the Father.” Does that mean that next week I can raise someone from the dead? No, I don’t think so. What I think it means is that this week I can talk to people about my faith. It means that I can love the people in my community sacrificially. What does he mean by “greater works”? Frankly, I don’t know. I think that greater might mean greater in scope. We have the opportunity to take the message of God’s love into places unheard of in Jesus’ time. I’m more than willing to admit that I could be wrong though. If you are hardcore one way or the other I’d be curious as to know why.

In response to some of the things that were said in the post, I’d like to address the “greater things” part first. I don’t necessarily consider myself “hard core one way or the other” on what the “greater things” are, but I’ll try to give my thoughts.

While I have no trouble saying that the “greater things” are not explicitly stated (and therefore subject to some interpretation at least), we still need to wrestle with the fact that Jesus didn’t just say we would do “greater things”. He first said that we would do the same things he was doing. Regardless of what the “greater things” might be, are we doing the same things that Jesus did?

Take a look at the examples in the book of Acts. The disciples, in fact, did do the same things Jesus was doing. They healed the sick, raised the dead, etc. Furthermore, when Paul talks about spiritual gifts in 1 Corinthians, he includes healing and miracles as two gifts that the Spirit gives to the body.

I’m not as troubled by the argument from silence on the cessationist side as I am the inability to adequately explain away the stuff that’s not silent. And “troubled” is not actually a good word. It just doesn’t make sense to me, I guess.

How did Jesus heal people? And how did his disciples heal people?

1. The people receiving the miracle believed it was possible, and
2. The person facilitating the miracle (or at times, someone on their behalf) believed it was possible. That seems to be an incredibly common factor throughout. Enough of a factor that I don’t think we can dismiss it too easily.

Scott also said:

I don’t think that we’re seeing fewer miracles today because of the state of faith in our world. Miracles are by definition rare things.

If scripture draws a strong parallel between the state of faith (either in individuals or in a region) and miracles (and I believe it does), should that not be taken into consideration? On what basis, then, do you think that doesn’t apply? Furthermore, when the kingdom was proclaimed by Jesus, were they really “rare” things? Does scripture itself define miracles as “rare”?

So to have this thing occupy a major portion of your theology and to go around in circles looking for support one way or another is indeed wasting cycles, if that’s all you’re doing.

I hope you can understand at this point that it’s not occupying “a major portion” of my theology, but rather I’m trying to assess what place it should. So I don’t see it as wasting cycles at all.

My point and repeated question basically come down to this: We see Jesus doing miracles as part of his gospel proclamation. Jesus tells us that those who believe in him will do the same things he did, and even greater things. The disciples go on to do the same things Jesus did, and even greater things (in terms of scope, for certain). So, if we are not to expect to do the same things, on what basis do we draw that conclusion?

Here’s a poor analogy: There is a light switch that I always use to turn on our dining room light. If I flip the switch one day and the light doesn’t come on, I can either conclude that the switch no longer is intended to operate that light, or I can conclude that something is not working properly and needs to be corrected for the switch to operate the light again. In a very basic way, the cessationist position seems to be saying that the switch is no longer intended to operate the light, whereas the continualist position is saying that the intent is still there, but something is not working properly.

Thoughts from Scott or anyone else?

Until next time,

steve

n the spirit of that great theologian, Jeff Foxworthy, I present to you some rambling thoughts in my head, all completed by the phrase “you might be misrepresenting God”…

• If your message is not filled with hope, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you tell people that they need to come to you to understand the message of scripture, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that “being real” means talking more about the wind and waves in your life than about the One who calms the storm, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that people who don’t attend a Sunday morning meeting are outside of God’s covering and protection, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that sickness, financial problems, hurricanes, broken bones, auto accidents, and terrorist attacks are all tools of God “to teach you something”, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that a person can’t live above their circumstances and walk in peace and victory, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that someone is not being real unless they tell you they’re struggling with some huge temptation, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that the only legitimate types of prayer for a Christian are prayers of lament, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you tell someone who is experiencing the peace and joy of the Lord to “hang on, your turn is coming”, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you believe that only “properly authorized leaders” are capable of serving communion or baptizing others, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you believe that Christianity is best represented by a set of propositional statements and/or a systematic theology, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If your message does not lead to freedom, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that the Father doesn’t speak to his children in various ways, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that America is “God’s chosen country” and that everything America’s foreign policy represents is ordained by God, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that the Republican party is “God’s party, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that religion and Christianity are compatible, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that you can only “cooperate” in ministry and missions with people who have been baptized by a pastor in your same denomination, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that true Christianity is only represented by a particular denomination or systematic theology, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If your belief in Christ does not manifest itself in living the life that Christ commanded us to live, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that you are more capable of articulating what someone else believes than that very person is capable of doing, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you believe that sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, freedom to the captives, and walking to the lame were only for first-century “verification of the message”, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that the only legitimate way to articulate one’s belief in God is found in a 4th-century statement, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that our main responsibility in relationship to God is to study the Bible, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that “everyone needs to have a pastor”, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you believe that leaving the institutional church is what the writer of Hebrews meant when he wrote, “Do not forsake the assembling of yourselves together”, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that a relationship with God means that you will accept or reject certain styles of music, certain hairstyles, certain beverages, or hanging out with certain people, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you think that Jesus turned water into mere grape juice, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you believe that a particular translation of the bible is the only inspired version, you might be misrepresenting God.
• If you believe that one’s beliefs about baptism, bible translation, rapture timing, tongues, or a particular interpretation of Genesis 1-2 are absolute essentials to salvation and/or fellowship, you might be misrepresenting God.