In Genesis, God gives what we might call the first job description: "Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it." The first phrase, "be fruitful and multiply" means to develop the social world: build families, churches, schools, cities, governments, laws. The second phrase, "subdue the earth," means to harness the natural world: plant crops, build bridges, design computers, compose music. This passage is sometimes called the Cultural Mandate because it tells us that our original purpose was to create cultures, build civilizations-nothing less.On this view, which is commonly tied to covenant theology, the Cultural Mandate given to Adam and Eve before the Fall applies in the same way to us today and becomes our motivation for honoring God through work in all disciplines and areas of life. The gospel then is more than simply personal salvation. Justification and redemption from sin is the important entry point for humans into new life and kingdom work, which seeks to bring redemption to bear on every aspect of creation.
Second, Beeson Divinity School is hosting their annual preaching conference. Our speaker will be Cleophus LaRue, the associate professor of preaching at Princeton (apparently they have an amazing preaching department there, even if their theology and biblical studies departments aren't exactly producing lots of good things to preach).
Then, on Friday I fly out to Chicago to visit my girlfriend. It should be an amazing time--I'm finally going to get to see Moody Bible Institute, where she goes to school, not to mention getting to see her for the first time in a month and a half.
It should be a very good week.
Labels: Travel
If we opt for that alternative [i.e., rebaptism], however, we are put in the uncomfortable position of insisting that while baptism is not essential for salvation, it is essential for membership in a Baptist church. We must also take this view in the realization that we are giving baptism a different meaning from its biblical intent, and this weakens our appeal to the authority of the Bible for our faith and practice. Furthermore, if we change the meaning of baptism, can we really insist that others are not free to do the same, even if they choose to baptize infants? (44)It does seem that Baptists cannot logically say that both of the following are true: (1) biblical baptism is only the kind of baptism that is administered as a sign of entry into the community of faith; and (2) those who were (unbiblically) baptized as infants, but have been members of the community of faith for years, must be rebaptized before becoming members of a Baptist church. Wilson makes an excellent point that the rebaptism of (2) is not the "biblical" baptism of (1), nor can it be, by definition.
I wonder if this argument would have made any different in John Piper's recently failed attempt to admit certain infant-batized Christians to membership in his Baptist church (see here and here).
Here is the second quotation, which, I think, stands alone:
In this same regard it is interesting to compare our practice of baptism with our emphasis in the Lord's Supper. In baptism we have focused upon the form and letter, but in the Lord's Supper our concern is with the spirit and substance. We have held firm on the mode of immersion, but we have ignored the "one cup" and "one loaf" so vitally significant to the meaning of the Lord's Supper in the biblical account, not to mention that we also substitute grape juice for wine. Our rigidity in baptism is so different from our freedom regarding the Supper, and this marked inconsistency deserves attention. The integrity of our Christian symbols is at stake. (45)I would encourage believer-baptists and infant-baptists alike to read the entire article, if possible. Here is the bibliographic information:
Wilson, G. Todd., “Why Baptists Should Not Rebaptize Christians from Other Denominations.” In Proclaiming the Baptist Vision: Baptism and the Lord's Supper, edited by Walter B. Shurden, 41-47. Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys, 1999.
Labels: Baptism, Books, Church, Communion, Seminary, Theology
One year, I finished my handbook a little early, and, to be productive, I opted to take written tests over what I had learned that year. One of the questions was a multiple choice that said, "Christ died for _________." After some long thought, I marked "those who put their faith in him." Instead, the answer was supposed to be "the whole world."
When I talked to my AWANA leader about it, I explained, "Well, it only works for those who believe," but she didn't budge. Interestingly, I never really heard about Calvinism until I was a senior in high school, and I didn't come to accept the doctrine of Limited Atonement until late in my junior year of college, but only after I believed in the other four points of Calvinism.
Funny what kids learn by memorizing Bible verses.
KINGSTON, R.I. — There is nothing much unusual about the 197-page dissertation Marcus R. Ross submitted in December to complete his doctoral degree in geosciences here at the University of Rhode Island.Read the rest of the article here. It's a new wrinkle (or a wrinkle of which I have been unaware) in the creation vs. evolution debate.His subject was the abundance and spread of mosasaurs, marine reptiles that, as he wrote, vanished at the end of the Cretaceous era about 65 million years ago. The work is “impeccable,” said David E. Fastovsky, a paleontologist and professor of geosciences at the university who was Dr. Ross’s dissertation adviser. “He was working within a strictly scientific framework, a conventional scientific framework.”
But Dr. Ross is hardly a conventional paleontologist. He is a “young earth creationist” — he believes that the Bible is a literally true account of the creation of the universe, and that the earth is at most 10,000 years old.
For him, Dr. Ross said, the methods and theories of paleontology are one “paradigm” for studying the past, and Scripture is another. In the paleontological paradigm, he said, the dates in his dissertation are entirely appropriate. The fact that as a young earth creationist he has a different view just means, he said, “that I am separating the different paradigms.”
He likened his situation to that of a socialist studying economics in a department with a supply-side bent. “People hold all sorts of opinions different from the department in which they graduate,” he said. “What’s that to anybody else?”
...
And, for some, his case raises thorny philosophical and practical questions. May a secular university deny otherwise qualified students a degree because of their religion? Can a student produce intellectually honest work that contradicts deeply held beliefs? Should it be obligatory (or forbidden) for universities to consider how students will use the degrees they earn?
Labels: Philosophy, Politics, Theology
During the two years when I was agnostic on this, and then when I was a Baptist, I largely dismissed the relevancy of the household baptism accounts that we read in the book of Acts. Essentially, I considered that both sides were arguing from silence, because I processed the debate in terms of whether infants were actually present or not. So, I assumed that the paedobaptists were arguing, "Surely there must have been an infant at one of those household baptisms!" And, of course, there is no Bible verse that says, "And then they baptized all of so-and-so's household, which, by the way, included one infant." Because this is an argument from silence (which Baptists are quick to point out), I felt that the evidence from household baptisms was irrelevant at worst and inconclusive at best.
Only after I became a paedobaptist (which happened for different theological reasons) did I come to the realization that I had completely misunderstood the terms of the debate--in fact, I was shocked to find out that I had been dealing with a credobaptist caricature of the paedobaptist arguments from household baptisms. My error was that I did not understand that paedobaptists were arguing from the definition of the word "household."
When Luke wrote the book of Acts, he didn't just pick a word out at random to describe how the early church administered the sacrament of baptism. "Household" is a word with a long history among God's people. Specifically, God had told Abraham to circumcise all those who were born in his "house." Even in the New Testament, there is every reason to believe that one's "household" included that person's children (see 1 Tim. 3:4-5).
If Luke had intended to speak of baptism in a way to exclude the infants of believers, wouldn't it be counterproductive to use the word "household" in reference to those who were baptized? How could that not have caused incredible misunderstanding in the early church, since the natural understanding of "household baptism" would mean baptizing one's infants, since "household circumcision" had always meant circumcising one's infants?
More pertinently, why don't we read anything about such a misunderstanding--and about the apostles' correction of this misunderstanding!--in the book of Acts or in early church history documents?
Even if I don't completely understand the theology behind infant baptism (I'm still working through a lot of issues), I think that the mention of household baptisms in the book of Acts is the "smoking gun" that puts the weight of evidence largely on the side of paedobaptism. Far from being irrelevant or inconclusive, the accounts of household baptisms have become one of the biggest factors in my being a Presbyterian.
I am currently rethinking that understanding based on Ephesians 4:11-16, where Paul lists four offices that Jesus gave to the church "to equip the saints for the work of ministry...": apostles, prophets, evangelists, and pastor-teachers. Of course, few have any problem considering evangelists and pastor-teachers as legitimate offices in the church today, but what about the prophets and the apostles?
Most Protestants (especially the Puritans and their descendants) would say that anyone who proclaims the word of the Lord--that is, anyone who preaches the Scriptures--should be considered a modern prophet. This doesn't mean that preachers are getting new revelations from God (as did Elijah, Elisha, Isaiah, Jeremiah, etc...), but that the office of the prophet is now taken up by proclaiming the message of God's word given to his Church in the Bible. Christians of a more Charismatic bent might argue for an understanding of prophecy that includes personal revelations from God (i.e., revelations for individuals or for a single church, but not for the entire Church of Jesus Christ), but I don't think that such an understanding of "prophecy" is necessary for thinking that God still gives his church "prophets."
So what about apostles? My recent thinking has followed an analogous path to my understanding of prophets and prophecy: although there are not any apostles with the same level of authority that Paul or Barnabas or the Twelve had, we might still consider those who stand in the tradition of the earliest apostles to be modern apostles. So, we can possibly consider missionaries and church planters--those whom God gives the spiritual authority to begin a church--as apostles, even if we deny that they have authority over the entire Church in the way that the earliest apostles had that kind of authority.
Modern prophets, then, do not stand upon their own authority to proclaim new messages from God, but rather, they stand upon the authority of the original prophets and proclaim the (old) messages that God gave those prophets. Similarly, modern apostles would not be sent out ("apostle" means "someone sent forth/out") to lay the foundation for a radically new work of God, but would stand in the authority of the first apostles and continue their work.
This, I think, gives us (or at least me) a good understanding of the offices of the church in a way that draws a clear distinction between modern apostles and the original apostles, but that also makes what Scripture teaches about apostleship relevant to Christians living today.
My cell phone background turned a color I had never seen before (pink), and the words "Emergency Call" flashed across the LCD screen. After a brief conference with the 911 operator (which brought back many a memory from watching "Rescue 911" during my childhood), he assured me that they would send a police officer to make sure that everything was okay. I don't think I was ever scared, but I did have an odd sort of adrenaline rush during the whole thing.
Who knew Alabama would be so exciting?
The sermon was on Psalm 1:4: "The wicked are not so, but are like chaff that the wind drives away." Of course, the pastor preached that verse in the context of the entire psalm. He mainly emphasized, though, the utter foolishness of living a life that amounts to being the chaff that will be blown away and burned.
I thought the sermon was a wonderful example of what I urged in my last post, because he did not merely preach that Christianity is correct (though it certainly is that), but that it is wise. Those who delight in the law of the LORD are firmly planted like trees by a river, whose leaves and fruit are constantly in season, prospering in all they do. With the five short words "The wicked are not so" (three words in the Hebrew) the psalmist declares that the wicked will never know the joy and abundance and prosperity of the righteousness; rather, the wicked will be worthless, fruitless, desolate, and blown away.
The pastor did not appeal to pithy apologetics, nor did he attempt to lay out an elaborate, precisely accurate theological explanation for what he was saying. He simply commended the utter wisdom of living a life according to the fear of the LORD, meditating constantly on the law (the Hebrew word "torah" = instruction) of the LORD. Then, he exposed the depraved foolishness of living a life of seeking the council of the wicked, of standing in the way of sinners, and of sitting among scoffers. One way of living leads to a truly abundant and prosperous life; the other leads to worthlessness and death.
Please do not misunderstand me--apologetics and theology have their place, and a very important place at that. Their place, though, should propel us to live wholeheartedly in the fear of the LORD, delighting fully in the instruction for living that God gives us. Unless the intellectual aspect of our studies pushes us into virtuous, wise living, it is worthless.
My point is not that we should quit studying, but that we should be ever aware of God's goal for our studying: wise, fruitful, and prosperous living. What we study should convince us further of our great need for Jesus Christ and make it all the easier for us to entrust our lives to him more completely.
Labels: Alabama, Baptism, Bible, Church, Life, Philosophy, Theology
The modern tendency to regard Proverbs as a collection of useful but rather boring advice, Ecclesiastes as the work of a jaded humanist and the Song of Songs as a piece of erotica shows how little the Wisdom tradition is understood or appreciated nowadays, in sharp contrast to earlier times, when these three books were regarded as among the choicest in the whole Scripture. Literal interpretation has removed these books from everyday church use, and they have almost ceased to be a part of the canon for all practical purposes. (p. 160)So, what should we make of the Wisdom Literature that God gave to his people?
As I have been thinking about this, I have been wondering if we Christians are too interested in a narrow conception of "truth." When modernism rolled onto the scene, claiming scientific ability to get to the bottom of every mystery in the universe, its first task was to rid the world of "superstitious" things like Christianity. So, we Christians responded in kind: we began to direct much research toward rationalistic fields such as textual criticism (trying to get the Hebrew and Greek texts as close to the originals as possible), archaeology (trying to get definitive proof that biblical events happened in just the way that biblical writers portrayed them), and apologetics (trying to use logic and reason to demonstrate the truth of Christianity, essentially beating the scientific naturalists at their own game).
Now, these things are all good in themselves, and we have made tremendous advances in these fields. The problem, though, is that Christianity now tends toward being an intellectual, scientific philosophy rather than being a life built upon the fear of the Lord through the person and work of Jesus Christ. So, when we evangelize, we often (consciously or unconsciously) try merely to persuade people of a certain number of facts about God and about Jesus. When we make disciples out of our converts, we generally try to stuff them with Christian information.
Of course, I would be a fool if I said that I were the first to point this out. Many have become so disillusioned with this intellectual-only approach to Christianity that they have rejected the intellectual part altogether and insisted that Christianity is totally about "relationships," both with God and with other people--these are the postmoderns and the emergents. In response, some Christians have reacted by an even greater emphasis on biblical exegesis, theology, and teaching-heavy preaching. I find myself in the latter category.
But what of wisdom? In my Old Testament Survey textbook, in the section on the book of Job, John Walton writes:
An interesting contrast of focus can also be seen in modern lists of God's attributes. They often emphasize omniscience (knowing everything) instead of infinite wisdom. They tend to focus on omnipotence (being all-powerful) perhaps at the expense of sovereignty (control and maintenance). (p. 338-39)I wonder if both intellectual, modernistic Christians as well as relational, postmodern Christians need to grow in their understanding of God's wisdom. Instead of trying to evangelize and disciple so that people merely give their intellectual assent to Christian theology, or instead of trying to reduce Christianity to its lowest common denominator, we Christians should give a renewed emphasis to our study and interpretation of Wisdom Literature.
I am becoming increasingly persuaded that one of our biggest needs as a Church is to seek Jesus Christ in order to gain wisdom rather than facts, virtue instead of narrow dogmatism, and the fear of the Lord instead of flawless theology. This doesn't devalue truth, but rather heightens its value because it puts truth in its right context. Furthermore, this doesn't devalue relationships, but finally gives us a framework within which we might understand what exactly our relationships should look like.
So, instead of doing yet another scientific study of the book of Romans or a fuzzy reflection on Jesus' friendships in the gospels, let's read and study and pray through Job, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Songs. We might not only discover why the early Church and the Old Testament Hebrews were so enamored with these books, but we also might come to know God in ways in which we find ourselves desperately lacking.
Labels: Bible, Books, Church, Philosophy, Seminary, Theology