Theological Musings

n the most recent episode of “It’s Really That Simple” (the podcast that my lovely wife Christy and I co-host), Christy and I talked about our thought of simplicity in trusting God.  If you have a half-hour free, I’d encourage you to go and listen to that episode, as it will form the basis for this post.  However, I’ll also try to summarize as much as I can so that you get the gist of what we discussed.

As an example of trusting God, we talked about the daily provision of food.  Jesus told us in Matthew 6 that we should not worry about food or clothing, but that we should seek after the kingdom of God, and everything that we need will be provided for us.

In response to that episode, my favorite skeptic/agnostic/atheist (depending on the context in which he labels himself!) Sid Faiwu (not his real name, by the way, and it’s pronounced FAY-woo, as I have taken a long time to learn!) asked a very good question.  I will repost the entire relevant part of his comment here so that you don’t have click over if you really don’t want to…

Taking literally the idea that if one trusts God, then one will be provided with food, clothing, etc. is morally problematic. Every true statement’s contrapositive is also true. The belief you hold to be true is:

If one trusts God, then one will always have enough food.

It’s contrapositive is:

If one doesn’t [sic] not have enough food, then one does not trust God.

It means that if someone starves or is starving, then it’s their own fault for not trusting God. It blames the victim. I’d imagine this is why so few people take this part of the Bible as literal truth.

Secondly, I’d argue that such a belief is simply false. It suggests that Christians should never starve if they truly trust God. I would argue that of all the Christians who have died of starvation over the centuries, at least one of them trusted God in this way. She/He trusted God to provide and he failed to come through.

I completely understand where Sid is coming from on this.  And on the surface, I would agree that it sounds more like blaming the victim.  But I think there are some assumptions made in Sid’s argument that could use a little scrutiny.

First of all, I don’t think there’s any way to argue the actual point regarding contrapositives.  Sid is entirely correct that the contrapositive must be true.  It’s in the evaluation of that contrapositive that I think there are some problems.

Sid says that the original statement by Jesus is morally problematic.  I’m not sure about the “morally” part, because I think that putting the responsibility on someone is not necessarily “blaming the victim”.  In fact, the very phrase “blaming the victim” causes problems because it assumes victim status where none has been established.  In other words, if the words of Jesus here are, in fact, correct, then one who does not heed his words would not be a victim.  They would, in the words found elsewhere in scripture, “reap what they sow”.

So, from that standpoint, I think we need to withhold judgment on whether or not someone is a “victim”.  Let me explain a bit further.  The concept of trusting God (or “faith”) appears many, many times in the New Testament (especially, the four gospels) in conjunction with healing.  Now, I know that we’ve discussed this on this blog in the past, but I think that often we put the cart before the horse. Rather than assuming that Jesus was telling the truth, we try to find other explanations for what we see.

I’ve said it before here: Read the four gospels and make a note of anytime Jesus heals someone from a physical illness.  In those instances, note how often Jesus comments about their faith.  Statements like “your faith has healed you”, or “if you believe, all things are possible” jump out at me.  They are not isolated statements. They are woven consistently through every physical healing with very little exception.

Today, however, when someone does not get healed, and one dares to raise the question of faith, emotional responses often claim that we’re “blaming the victim”.  But if that is true, why did Jesus talk so much about faith in those situations?

From that standpoint, the passage regarding food and clothing is not anything out of the ordinary for Jesus.  In fact, I think it is entirely consistent with the rest of his teaching.  Faith is an integral part of receiving what the Father provides.

Take the story of the prodigal son.  While he was sitting in the pig pen wishing he could eat the scraps he was feeding the pigs, was he a victim?  He was the son of a man who was providing everything he needed — food, clothing, shelter — and yet he had not received what his father was providing because he left home.  He was not a victim.  He received the consequences of his own choices.

Sometimes the situation is not so clear.  One may claim they are trusting God for their provision, but maybe they are hiding their own doubt and worry.  Maybe they are seeking after their own provisions and not really seeking first the kingdom of God, as Jesus instructed.  We can’t judge their hearts, obviously, but I think it doesn’t really make sense to just throw out the words of Jesus in our own lives because of what we think is going on in someone else’s.

Let me turn, now, to the second objection Sid raises.  I have to admit that Sid surprised me with this one, because Sid is usually very concerned about empirical evidence.  Verifiable facts.  And yet here, he throws in a highly hypothetical situation, rolling the dice of history and assuming that somehow he can roll the right number.

Sid says, “…of all the Christians who have died of starvation over the centuries, at least one of them trusted God in this way.”  This pits the statement of Jesus against some “odds” that seem pretty incredible.  I would argue that this is not a logical argument, and therefore is not valid.

It’s not able to be proven or disproven because we can’t go back through history and interview those who have died.  In fact, I would say that there is stronger evidence (eyewitness, even) for the resurrection of Jesus, yet Sid rejects that account, by his own admission.  Yet, in this case, Sid is willing to pit the words of Jesus against unknown, unverifiable, unrecorded “witnesses”.

All I can offer, Sid, is my own testimony.  My own eyewitness account.  I have shared some of these accounts on this blog and on the “Beyond the Box” podcast in the past, so I won’t recount them now.  But if there are any questions, I’ll gladly share them again.  I can’t answer for anyone else, but I have found the words of Jesus — all of them that we have recorded — to be accurate, truthful, and consistent in my life.  When I have trusted my Father, I have never been disappointed.  I have never been rejected by him.  And whatever he has promised has come to pass.  When I have not trusted him, I have found that the consequences of not trusting him have borne out the very promises he made — I have, indeed, reaped what I have sown.

Now, before I close, allow me to say a brief word about “faith”.  Hebrews 11:1 defines faith for us.  I like the way the New International Version words it: “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”  Faith is not always based on what we see or what we can touch or what we can prove with our senses.  Faith believes that truth can sometimes supercede evidence.

I know that sounds wacky to some, but I hope you can understand where I’m coming from.  Right now, in fact, we are going through another mini-financial crisis in our family.  A check that was supposed to arrive over a week ago (a substantial part of our monthly income) has not arrived.  We honestly don’t know how we will pay for stuff this week.  Bills that are due, rent that will be due on the 1st, food and gas that are needed this week — we don’t know how we will pay for all of that.

But we trust.  Why? Because of our faith.  Because we know that God has promised.  And in addition to that faith, we have the track record behind us to prove it.  Whenever I have sought the kingdom of God first in my life, all of my needs have been provided for.  Sometimes in really cool “miraculous” ways, sometimes in much more ordinary ways.  But always, always, always, my Father has kept his word.

So, does believing that faith is something we possess and exercise put blame on someone else who doesn’t?  That’s not really the point.  The point is, Jesus said that we can trust the Father for this, and I have found it to be true in my life.  That is the testimony I provide.

Until next time,

steve

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

or a while now, I have wanted to blog about a particular topic that I hope will not spark too much in the way of controversy. (How’s that for a lead-in??!) The topic under consideration is that of the Christian’s relationship to sin.

In times past, I have noticed that there are two almost polar opposite views at play in our western version of Christianity. One is the bumper sticker theology that says:

I’m just a sinner saved by grace

or perhaps this one:

Christians aren’t perfect, just forgiven.

The opposing viewpoint is one that says that victory over sin in this life is not only possible, but should likely be the outlook of every Christian.

Some of the controversy seems to come from Paul’s statements in Romans 7. In this well-known chapter, Paul describes a struggle between what he wants to do and what he doesn’t want to do. In this chapter, he seems to indicate that the “doesn’t want to do” frequently wins out. Many see this as the believer’s struggle with sin, and then draw the conclusion that Paul was saying that he was not victorious over sin. It would stand to reason, then, that if Paul was incapable of living a life of victory over sin, how could we hope to do any better?

My problems with this are on several levels, however. Perhaps the first and most obvious problem that I have with this passage (obvious to me, at least!) is the context of Romans 7. Without sounding pedantic here, Romans 7 falls between Romans 6 and Romans 8. And both 6 and 8 talk about victory over sin.

For instance, Romans 6:2 says, “How shall we who died to sin still live in it?” And after describing our identification with the death of Christ, Paul says in Romans 6:7, “he who has died is freed from sin.” And again in verse 11, “Consider yourselves to be dead to sin.” Numerous similar phrases appear throughout chapter 6.

Romans 8 is likewise full of positive statements regarding victory over sin. Verse 4 says that we “do not walk according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.”

So I have a lot of difficulty understanding how Romans 7 could be Paul’s description of his ongoing experience in his life. I have heard that theory justified (no pun intended!) in many different ways, including the idea of an “already/not yet” concept in Paul’s writing. And while it is true that Paul talks about all creation “groaning” while waiting for the ultimate new creation, he doesn’t speak of human beings in that way. Rather he says, literally, “In Christ = new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

[By way of explanation, there is no verb "is" in 2 Corinthians 5:17. Paul doesn't say, "if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation" or "if anyone is in Christ, he will be a new creation". Rather, he literally just says, "If anyone is in Christ -- new creation. Old things passed away. All things new." Greek scholars correct me if I'm wrong here, but my understanding of Greek is that two things placed together in this manner without a joining verb are being shown to be equated with each other. So, if we are in Christ, there is no future "new creation" that we need to wait for.]

But an even more interesting passage with this regard is Hebrews 10. I encourage you to read the entire chapter linked there, but I’d like to quote a portion of it here as it relates to the point I’m making:

For the Law, since it has only a shadow of the good things to come and not the very form of things, can never, by the same sacrifices which they offer continually year by year, make perfect those who draw near.

Otherwise, would they not have ceased to be offered, because the worshipers, having once been cleansed, would no longer have had consciousness of sins?

But in those sacrifices there is a reminder of sins year by year.

…[W]e have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.

Every priest stands daily ministering and offering time after time the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins;

but He, having offered one sacrifice for sins for all time, SAT DOWN AT THE RIGHT HAND OF GOD,

…For by one offering He has perfected for all time those who are sanctified.

Now where there is forgiveness of these things, there is no longer any offering for sin.

Therefore, brethren, since we have confidence to enter the holy place by the blood of Jesus,

…let us draw near with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.

…For if we go on sinning willfully after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins….

I’ve quoted large chunks of this passage because I want to give a sense of the flow of the passage. Notice the comparison of the sacrifice of Jesus with the sacrifices under the previous Law. In fact, most of the book of Hebrews is built around this type of comparison.

Under the Law, there was a continued “consciousness” of sin. There was a continued relationship to sin. Why? Because the sacrifices under that law were not adequate to completely remove that relationship.

However, under the sacrifice of Jesus, we have been “made perfect”. By way of the contrast being drawn, it could be phrased that we no longer have a “consciousness of sin”.

Now, what does (or should) that mean? I’m open to debate on this issue, but I think that it might be radically different from a lot of what I hear taught.

Should sin be an issue for us? I don’t think so. Should we be continuing in sin if we are in Christ? I don’t think so.

But here’s the important thing to keep in mind: I’m not proposing that this is a “try harder” admonition. In fact, I would run completely in the opposite direction. What I am suggesting is an application by faith of what has already been done for us.

The writer of Hebrews is not suggesting an “already/not yet” tension here. In the same way that Paul says to “consider yourselves dead to sin”, I think we are called and instructed to live a life that focuses on the indwelling Christ who has already washed us clean. That’s why the writer of Hebrews can talk about our ability to approach our Father with confidence, knowing that we are clean.

If we have come to Christ and received the gift of eternal life that he has provided, we no longer have a consciousness of sin (Hebrews 10). We no longer need to let sin have any place in our lives (since we are to consider ourselves dead to it) (Romans 6-8). Having confessed our sins, we are cleansed from all unrighteousness (1 John 1).

I think in some ways, we have replaced the Old Covenant sacrifices, not with the “once-for-all” sacrifice of Jesus, but with our own confessions and prayers. Instead of walking confidently in our position in Christ with no consciousness of sins, we feel that we somehow have to get cleaned up every time we want to approach the Father. But He tells us that we are already clean! By not accepting that, we are yielding to a “consciousness of sin” that should no longer exist.

The last verse I quoted above from Hebrews 10 says it pretty bluntly.  If we go on sinning willfully, there is no sacrifice for sin.  The sacrifice of Jesus has already removed our sin.  And we need not be drawn into a guilty conscience over something that has already been forgiven.  (The Romans 6:1 disclaimer applies here, lest anyone mistake my thoughts for advocating license to sin freely!)

I close with this admonition and reminder from Paul in Colossians 3:

Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth. For you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God.

Sin in the life of a believer? Forget about it!

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