Paul writes in 2 Timothy 3:16 that “All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness” (NASB, or otherwise translated as “All Scripture is God-breathed…”).  In the past, I have (in places on this blog) raised questions about how that verse should be treated.  Is it saying that the 66 books of the Protestant canon of Scripture are inspired?  Is it only referring (as it does in context) to the Old Testament?  Is it saying that only those books included in the Protestant canon are inspired and no others? Or is it saying something else?

This post is not about answering those questions, however. Maybe I’ll get back to those questions again in a future post, but for now I want to examine the side-effects of believing that all 66 books of the Protestant canon are completely inspired by God in their very words.

On the surface at least, I really don’t have an issue with believing that all 66 books are inspired by God.  Or maybe, to be completely accurate, I should say that I don’t have any problem with someone who does hold to that viewpoint. However, the doctrine of inspiration, especially since it is based so heavily (exclusively, even??) on this statement by Paul leads to some interesting issues.  These are, in my opinion, issues that are problematic.

Issue #1: The Doctrine of Inerrancy

The doctrine of inerrancy flows naturally from the doctrine of inspiration.  If God is actually the author (through the Holy Spirit) of the words of the Bible, then it follows rather plainly that the Bible is without error.  This raises some questions, though. For example, what about apparent contradictions in the Bible?  Well, to the strict “inerrantist”, there are no contradictions. If in one passage (2 Samuel 24) it says that God caused David to take a census, and in a parallel passage (1 Chronicles 21) in another book by another author, it says that Satan caused it, then the strict inerrantist has to reconcile those two passages.  This is usually done by saying that God used Satan (or allowed Satan, or instructed Satan, or whatever) to accomplish his (God’s) purpose in the situation.

This answer is not entirely satisfactory to some, though (myself included). It’s a bit of a circular argument.  Here’s a contradiction, but it can’t be a contradiction because the Bible doesn’t have contradictions. And the Bible doesn’t have contradictions because we’ve explained away all the contradictions!

It doesn’t really make sense, though, to say that every word of Scripture is inspired by God and then to have “errors” in the text. So you can’t really believe in verbal inspiration without going down the inerrancy path.  This, in effect, paints us in a corner, then.  It’s an unfortunate side-effect of the doctrine of inspiration that we have to then explain away any contradictions or apparent errors.

Issue #2: The “Every Verse is Equal” View

This is perhaps the worst side-effect of the doctrine of inspiration, in my opinion. Because Paul’s words are interpreted to mean that every verse of Scripture has a use for teaching, instruction in righteousness, etc., people have done two things that are detrimental to our understanding of Scripture: 1.) Pulled individual verses out of context and used them to support whatever cause the person is passionate about, and 2) Use verses to support points even though those verses are actually contradicted elsewhere in the Bible.

Recently, this became very clear to me in the wake of the murder of Osama bin Laden by a US Navy Seal special ops team.  Immediately upon announcement of the news, my Facebook feed split dramatically into those who were whooping it up in jubilant celebration and those who felt like the situation required a certain amount of sobriety.  And I’m not talking about the difference between my Christian friends and my non-Christian friends. I’m just talking about my Christian friends.

Those of us who posted messages of a more sober nature were put down by a lot of those “jubilant celebrants” because we weren’t rejoicing that “justice had been done” or that a mass murderer was finally taken out.

What surprised me, however, was that those who were rejoicing so jubilantly were quick to throw some proof-texts into the mix claiming that there was scriptural precedent for their joy and that, in fact, it was quite appropriate for believers to celebrate in that way.  And when some of us tried to counter with the teachings of Jesus regarding loving our enemies, etc., we were called “naive” by some, attacked by others as taking scripture out of context (really?!?) and put down by still others who claimed that we would gladly stand by while assailants came into our homes and raped and murdered our wives and children.

All of this came from a use of scripture that says that any verse can stand on its own as support for a position.  I could not disagree more strongly, and I think that this, as I have already said, is the worst side-effect of the doctrine of inspiration.

So what is the alternative?

Well, I certainly don’t claim to have all (or even any!) of the answers, but I think that we can look at this from a couple of angles.  Those who believe in a very conservative, strict view of inspiration claim that viewing the scripture as anything but completely inspired by God leaves us with absolutely nothing to hang our faith on.  In other words, if any of it means something other than what it says, we can’t trust any of it.

I think this is a very simplistic and faulty view.  It’s not an either/or proposition.  Much as western Christianity thrives on its “either/or” positions, truth is almost always somewhere in the middle!  Note that I am not saying that truth is relative.  But truth is not always found by contrasting two polar opposite views.  First of all, we need to recognize some things about the revelation we have been given in scripture.

Scripture itself attests to the fact that revelation is not always immediate.  It is most often progressive in nature.  Getting back to the two passages about David taking a census, rather than trying to absurdly reconcile two very different statements, it perhaps makes more sense to see that when Samuel wrote his narrative, he did not understand that actions that violated God’s principles and plan were not actually initiated by God.  But later on, when the writer of the Chronicles comes along (some estimates are that the books of the Chronicles were written approximately 500 years after the writing of the books of Samuel), some development has taken place in the understanding of the role of Satan.

This nature of progressive revelation is attested in Hebrews 1, which makes it quite clear when it says that in past times, God spoke through prophets, etc., but now he has spoken through Jesus.  In other words, the past revelation was insufficient in revealing the Father to us. This is a very important point.  It is important because it gives us a good indication of how we should approach Scripture.

I like to phrase it this way: We must read Scripture through the lens of Jesus.  In other words, we must pass everything we read in Scripture through the revelation of the Father in Jesus.

To put it bluntly, the believers in Old Testament times did not understand the Father.  They didn’t understand the battle between God and Satan.  They did not understand the character of God.  They did not understand the plan the Father had to redeem all mankind to himself.

So, when Jesus comes along and reveals the heart of the Father to us, it necessarily changes some things.  For example, Jesus addresses issues of retribution and “justice” by referencing the Old Testament law in a strange way.  He says, “You have heard it said, ‘An eye for an eye’, but I say to you, ‘Love your enemies. Do good to those who hurt you.’”

Note his choice of words: “You have heard it said.” This is highly significant.  Because when we return now to the Old Testament law and attempt to make it the standard for civil law or for even personal action/reaction toward others, we ignore the teaching of Jesus.  One cannot simultaneously love their enemy and rejoice over their demise.  When people quote Old Testament verses about rejoicing over their enemies, or wishing their enemies harm (i.e., the so-called imprecatory Psalms), they do so at the expense of Jesus’s revelation.  Why would we want to return to a “darker-glassed” view of the Father?

(A side note: Some have attempted to use Revelation 18 to defend the rejoicing over Osama bin Laden’s death, as well.  However, I think it is important to note that the rejoicing in Revelation is not over the death of a person or even a group of people, but rather the destruction of a system, referred to as Babylon–a system that stood in opposition to the character and kingdom of God.  That is very different, in my opinion.)

So, again, what are the alternatives?  The alternative is to understand first of all that we don’t know for sure what Paul was trying to say in his comment about inspiration. We know that there is value in the Old Testament in pointing us to Jesus (see Jesus’s statements in John 5).  And we do know that God, from time to time, spoke through the prophets and revealed some of his heart and passion (although they rarely understood what he was saying).  But was Paul specifically saying that every single verse of the Old Testament is still useful for teaching us how to live our daily lives? I seriously doubt it because Jesus himself had a different view of the Old Testament. (“You have heard it said…but I say to you….”)

Secondly, we must, as I have already pointed out, interpret Scripture not just with other Scripture, but more specifically with the teaching of Jesus.  If Jesus says that “an eye for an eye” is not how we are supposed to view our enemies or those who hurt us, then that verse in the Old Testament cannot bear weight on our lives anymore.

To the strict inspiration-believer, this sounds like we simply pick-and-choose what to believe in the Bible.  But I say that is a straw man.  It is a serious misunderstanding of what I am saying.  Jesus promised us that the Holy Spirit would come to us and teach us all truth.  We must recognize that interpretation of scripture comes through the Holy Spirit.  And if we listen to the voice of the Spirit, we will find that many things begin to make sense in a way different from what is traditionally taught.

In summary, I would encourage anyone who holds to a strict view of inspiration to carefully weigh the side-effects of that view. Don’t allow that view to put you in a position where you end up demeaning the teaching of Jesus or the progressive revelation that took place over 1,000′s of years. And do not quench the Holy Spirit in your use of the Bible. One need only to look at the way New Testament writers used quotes from the Old Testament to see that a strict view might not always be the way to go!

Until next time,

steve

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

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

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

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

• 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.

Much of what I would like to say has been said in one form or another in the comments that were posted previously. This has the net effect of letting me know ahead of time that my thoughts won’t be overly controversial to everyone in the discussion! But seriously, it is refreshing to see such thought being given to this topic. I likely will not address everything that was written in the comments, but they are there for you to read for yourself. Instead, I want to share my thoughts, some of which will overlap the thoughts of others.

It is easy, I think, for us to agree that whatever Jesus meant when he prayed for our unity, we’re not fulfilling it. I don’t think I’ve ever come across anyone who says that the body of Christ is experiencing unity at the level that Jesus prayed for. Part of this is because we don’t even agree on what the unity is supposed to look like!

Some options of interpretation that I have come across in my time of examining this passage include:

• Unity = Unanimity — Unity can only come when we fully agree on everything that is believed, practiced, taught, etc.
• Unity = Consensus — Unity means that we “agree to disagree”
• Unity = Anything Goes — Unity means that every person’s belief is valid, and we should never “debate” or try to convince others of our viewpoints
• Unity = Eschatological Perfection — The unity that Jesus prayed for is only possible, and will only exist, when Jesus returns and we are made perfect.

With that in mind, I posed the question, “What is the unity that Jesus prayed for in John 17 and is it primarily (or even solely) eschatological in nature?”

Let me first of all give my thoughts on the eschatology aspect of the question. I think determining the eschatological import (if any) helps us determine what the unity actually is. It also impacts what we believe to be our responsibility toward the unity in question.

In other words, if the unity is primarily (or solely) eschatological, we can easily assume that it is not attainable in this lifetime, and we will generally feel like it’s not even worth trying. If, however, the unity is a present possibility and reality, we will understand our own response to the prayer of Jesus.

As some have already commented, I do not believe that the unity for which Jesus prayed is eschatological. Eschatological unity is almost a given. Why would Jesus take the time to pray for what is essentially a guaranteed part of the future kingdom?

But more importantly, the words of Jesus in John 17 give us ample evidence that eschatology is not in view during this prayer. Verse 21 tells us specifically that the prayer of Jesus for unity is for this purpose: “…so that the world may believe that You sent Me.”

Verse 23 expands on this by saying that the purpose of the unity is “…so that the world may know that You sent Me, and loved them, even as You have loved Me.”

In my opinion, these two statements of purpose that Jesus gave for his prayer for unity remove any eschatological implication from the prayer. The purpose of the unity is to demonstrate to the world that God sent Jesus and that God loves us.

If this is correct (and obviously, I believe it is), then this greatly impacts our understanding of what that unity is and whether or not we should actively be pursuing it. Since it is not a future unity (any eschatological implications must come from outside the text), there must be a present unity for which Jesus prayed.

Within this prayer, Jesus gives some indication as to what the unity should be. Namely, it should be a mirror of the unity that Jesus and the Father share. He compares the unity of us with his unity with the Father in verse 21:

…they may all be one; even as You, Father, are in Me and I in You, that they also may be in Us….

Would we say that the unity of Jesus and the Father is manifest in “you go your way and I’ll go mine and we won’t bother each other”? Yet this is frequently what ends up happening among Christians.

You believe in infant baptism? Then I can’t fellowship with you. You believe in speaking in tongues? You’ll have to have church across town. You believe that the Genesis account of creation is metaphorical? I have nothing in common with you.

This cannot be what Jesus prayed for.

And with that, I will have to hold off on the rest of my thoughts because I am out of time. Comments are open, and I will return with a further post at some point.

Until next time,

steve

To my dear brothers who are involved in the institutional church, please don’t read this so much as an “institutional vs. simple” dichotomy. But prayerfully weigh Phil’s words here and see what points of agreement might be had. Of course, dissenting opinions are welcome in the comments following this post, if one feels it necessary.

Without further ado, then, in my “Wish I Had Written This!” category comes this profound comment from (unwitting) guest blogger Phil on the recent “How (Not) to Judge Someone’s Orthodoxy” post:

Looking back at this whole discussion, I come back to this basic question–What is Christianity? Is it
(a) a set of activities in a sacred place on Sunday morning, with a list of tenets to be subscribed to as a condition of participation, coupled with rules for behavior, enforced by the official leadership

or

(b) a way of living, every day, 24/7, in relationship with Jesus Himself, and with others who also are in relationship with Him.

Going through the words of Jesus Himself in the Gospels, I cannot find anything that leads to (a); in fact, he often rebuked the leaders of the (a) system of the day. I grew up in churches, have been in churches all my life, and my conclusion now is that in most situations, the more of (a) you have, the less you have of (b); in fact, (a) tends to replace and eliminate (b)!

How did “Abide in me” come to mean “Be at the church building every time the doors are open”?

If you want to improve your relationship with someone, say your wife, do you go off to an auditorium and sit while someone who claims to know her better than you do lectures for half an hour? Or would the time be better spent going somewhere alone with your wife and conversing with her for half an hour? Which really builds the relationship with her?

I’m afraid most humans are too lazy for their own good. We’d rather have a list of rules to keep than try to walk in the Spirit. We want a doctrinal statement to assent to rather than trying to learn to hear His voice ourselves. The Hebrews started it at Mt. Sinai–they wanted Moses to hear God for them.

And for those who would say “It’s some of each, both (a) and (b)” my question is How can it be both, when (a) eliminates (b)? I think, and I suspect [frequent commenter] ded would agree (based on what he’s written here), that they are two different things, coming from two different sources. If God meant it to be a symbiosis, it would be a stable symbiosis, not constantly drifting in one direction.

To look at it another way: What has been the “fruit” of (a) in this country? Do we have a vibrant church that is transforming its culture? Are non-believers coming to Christ in droves? Are believers “turning the world upside down”?

Or is the picture more like this: “Our bookshelves are full of Christian books and videos. We have churches on every major street, more staff workers than ever before, large Sunday school departments, cell systems, mega- and meta-church seminars. We have Christian bumper stickers, political action groups, huge parachurch ministries–and in the midst of it all, we have lost every major city in North America.” Back in 1999, Wolfgang Simson included that quote from Ted Haggard in his book “Houses that Change the World”.

Maybe we do need to lay aside everything that’s been written since and go back to the New Testament for our original instructions.

Way to go, Phil! And a hearty “amen” to that.

Until next time,

steve

Here is the statement that Scott quoted from the WCF:

Although the light of nature and the works of creation and providence manifest the goodness, wisdom, and power of God, to such an extent that men are without excuse, yet they are not sufficient to give that knowledge of God and of his will which is necessary for salvation. Therefore it pleased the Lord, at various times and in diverse ways, to reveal himself and to declare his will to his church; and afterward—for the better preserving and propagating of the truth, and for the more sure establishment and comfort of the church against the corruption of the flesh and the malice of Satan and of the world—to commit this revelation wholly to writing. Therefore the Holy Scripture is most necessary, God’s former ways of revealing his will to his people having ceased.

This sparked some interesting back-and-forth, and Scott and I agreed to talk through this on our blogs. To that end, Scott has posted an introduction to the topic, and then his fuller thoughts about it. I’d like to take some time to respond to Scott here in this post.

First of all, I have to commend Scott for his tremendous graciousness in this conversation. No matter the outcome of this conversation, or whether or not one of us becomes persuaded by the other’s position, it’s just a joy to have this type of discussion with someone who seasons his disagreement with grace and love. Thanks, Scott!

There are things that Scott and I both do agree on, as has been established in the conversation that has already taken place. For one, we both believe that the Bible reveals Jesus to us. We also both agree that Jesus is the object and focus of our faith. That’s enough, in my opinion, to give us plenty of room to fellowship together.

There are a couple of points that Scott made, however, that I would like to shed a different light on. Similar to how I believe that the WCF makes some statements as “fact” that maybe aren’t able to be fully determined (and therefore, in my opinion, should probably be left as opinions), I think Scott may possibly be overstating some points.

While God used a variety of means to communicate to people over the ages it always got written down, at least so far as we know.

I’m actually not sure that this can be stated, even with the disclaimer of “at least so far as we know.” I’ve used some examples in the past that seem to refute this. For example, King Saul (before he’s anointed king) joins a group of prophets and begins prophesying. Yet nothing is recorded as to what he, or any of the other prophets in that group, prophesied.

Likewise, the New Testament records that Anna (in the temple when Jesus was dedicated) was a prophetess (indicating activity prior to her entrance into the story), yet none of her statements prior to the appearance of Jesus are recorded.

And perhaps the most compelling to me is the fact that Paul took a lot of time to instruct the Corinthians in the proper use of prophecy, yet to our knowledge, none of the canonical writings were penned by anyone in the church in Corinth.

So, at best, I think it’s an overstatement to say that God always put his words down in writing. That statement seems to set up a foundation for Scott’s development of his thoughts. If, in fact, that foundation is overstated, then we have to consider the conclusions as potentially suspect or distorted.

Scott also goes on to discuss the statement in the WCF which says that the former ways of God revealing his will to us have ceased.

This is, for me, the most troubling statement in the above-quoted portion of the WCF. Troubling because it seems to serve as the justification for the stated view of scripture (the complete revelation of God to us).

We know from scripture (Hebrews 1:1-2) that God spoke in the past through prophets, and then chose to speak to us through Jesus. This is, to me, very significant, because of what it doesn’t say. Even though some of the prophecies were written down for preservation, and even though some of the words of Jesus have been written down for us, this verse doesn’t say that God spoke through writing and then continues to speak through writing.

Even Jesus said a lot of things (according to John) that weren’t written down. So the speaking to us through Jesus goes beyond words on a page. God seems to want something much more personal than written communication alone.

When God first brought the Israelites out of Egypt, he asked all of them to come to the mountain so he could speak to them. The Israelites refused, out of fear, and asked Moses to mediate for them. So, while Scott points out that the 10 commandments were written down for us, was that because that was how God desired to communicate? Or was it because Moses had to convey to the Israelites what God wanted to tell them personally?

I have long contended that what God originally created in Eden and what he consistently sought to restore after the fall of Adam and Eve was a personal relationship. Hence the eventual appearance of Jesus — Emmanuel, God with us.

So with regard to whether or not God’s methods of revelation have ceased, necessitating complete revelation being written down, I think we would have to say that the answer is that God’s methods of communication have become more and more personal over time. God spoke through Moses, spoke through the prophets, spoke face-to-face in the person of Jesus, then indwells us with his Holy Spirit. There is a progression from separation to intimate relationship. That’s the beauty of the Gospel message that Jesus came to preach!

See, it’s not even an issue of cessationism vs. continuationism. It’s not a charismatic or non-charismatic issue. It’s an issue of asking what type of relationship God desires with us, and how he has chosen to enact that relationship.

Any thoughts in response?

Until next time,

steve

This evening, while perusing some blogs, I spotted this paragraph from a commenter:

It seems to me that the wrong way to identify whether someone believes the Bible is to ask them if they do.
Better to find out what they believe on a variety of subjects which the Bible teaches us about, and then determine for them whether or not they really believe it.

That, my friends, is apparently how we are to judge others.

Forgive my bitter cynicism, but I fail to see the justification in this kind of approach. It could easily be paraphrased as such: “Don’t give your brother any benefit of the doubt. Give them, rather, a theological quiz, and grade it based on your own inerrant, infallible, and complete knowledge of the truth.”

No, thank you.

Until next time,

steve