Tag Archives: christianity

on affirming “non-credal” creeds

Not too long ago, while searching for employment, I happened upon a job opening that looked promising and appealing. It was in my field, it was at a good school, and it was in a city that we love (though I would certainly melt in the summer months). Yet two out of the four desired qualifications presented a challenge for me. One, the school wanted someone ordained in the Southern Baptist convention; two, the candidate needed to affirm, in good faith, the 2000 Baptist Faith and Message (2000 BFM).

Despite the fact that the first qualification had a “must” attached to it, I decided to see if there was any flexibility in the requirement. I asked because, while I grew up Baptist (here is my early childhood church) I neither remained nor was ordained in that denomination.[1] The kind and helpful people at this school responded by stating (quite understandably): since they are a Southern Baptist school, the ordination requirement is extremely firm; there’s no bending it. However, if I wanted to serve in an adjunct capacity, then the requirement would be lifted. Although, the second one would still apply–i.e. affirm, in good faith, the 2000 BFM–and a third one would be introduced: affirm, in good faith, the Chicago Statement of Biblical Inerrancy (CSBI).

The requirement of needing to affirm, in good faith, the 2000 BFM and the CSBI struck me as rather odd for at least two reasons. On the one hand, historically and traditionally, Baptists have prided themselves on being non-credal;[2] their longstanding mantra was, “No creed but the Bible” (which, strangely enough, functions as a credal statement). On the other hand, the Preface to the CSBI clearly states: “We acknowledge the limitations of a document prepared in a brief, intensive conference and do not propose that this Statement be given creedal weight” (emphasis added);[3] yet the requirement of needing to affirm the Statement, in good faith, for the purposes of gaining employment sounds rather credal–not to mention in conflict with the nature and intent of the CSBI. This would seem to be reinforced not only by the implied corollary of the requirement–i.e. no affirm, no job–but also the qualifier, “in good faith.”

Tangent, but a necessary one: In 1798, Barton W. Stone sought ordination in the Presbyterian Church. In order to obtain that goal, he needed to pass a type of examination before a group of governing Presbyterian ministers.[4] One of the determinative questions in that examination was, “Do you receive and adopt the ‘[Westminster] Confession of Faith’ [WCF], as containing the system of doctrine taught in the Bible?” The problem was that Stone had two hiccups with the WCF: the doctrine of the Trinity (he didn’t understand it), and the doctrines of election, reprobation, and predestination (he rejected them). And Stone knew that if he said “No” because of these two points, he would fail the exam and not be ordained. So rather shrewdly, he said: “I do, so far as I see it consistent with the word of God.” He passed.

This type of response used to be acceptable–even commendable–for it represented the freedom of conscience, or: the ability and permission for ministers and/or teachers of the Bible to teach in accordance with faithful, disciplined interpretation and the guidance (or, “illumination”)[5] of the Spirit. However, in the case of the particular school I contacted, the inclusion of the qualifier “in good faith” in the required affirmation would seem to disallow that ability and permission. What do I mean? Would I be permitted to accept/affirm the two documents as guidelines for orthodoxy and not creeds with exclusionary powers–because that’s how they present themselves? Would I be able to say, “In good faith, I affirm the 2000 BFM and CSBI as far as I see them consistent with Scripture”? Or to come at this a different way: would I be free or allowed to disagree with parts of both “creeds” and openly discuss such things in the classroom if prompted?

If the answer is yes, then I will admit the error of my assessment. If the answer is no, then we have a problem, and the problem is twofold. First, “in good faith” no longer relates to acting in accordance with with one’s conscience, but comes to mean an “all-or-nothing” affirmation. This takes us right back to the issue of the documents functioning as creeds–i.e. determiners of one’s acceptance or exclusion.[6] Second, that “all-or-nothing” affirmation comes at the expense of one’s conscience and it winds up undercutting the nature of a “good faith” acceptance.

In other words: if I want the job, and yet I happen to disagree with either the 2000 BFM or CSBI (or both) in part or whole, I would have to affirm the entire contents and teachings of both documents, teach in accordance with them, and do so in such a way that I appear to agree with their entirety, when in reality I do not. Thus, while I would be conducting myself in a manner that reflects (or even exemplifies) the desired requirements of the school–i.e. acting “in good faith” (i.e. full acceptance)–I would be doing so in a way that is dishonest to my theological and academic conscience. In essence (or effect), I would be intentionally and knowingly misleading the institution and the students I might teach, giving the appearance of full acceptance of the 2000 BFM and CSBI when such acceptance does not exist. That, by definition, would not be acting “in good faith”.

Needless to say: I did not apply for the full-time version of the job, and I will not apply for the adjunct version. In good faith, I just can’t.

___________________________________
[1] If you’re curious, in 2002 I was (technically) ordained into the non-denominational Christian Church–which, strangely enough, is a classified denomination. To avoid confusion and strange looks, I usually tell people my ordination was into the Christian Church/Church of Christ tradition–i.e. the net result of the Restoration Movement in the US.
[2] Although, the Preamble to the 2000 BFM oddly says otherwise.
[3] Though, it is worth noting, the underlying tone of the CSBI Preface (and the Statement itself) comes across as a rather credal.
[4] For a fuller account, see John Rogers (ed.), The Biography of Elder Barton Warren Stone, Written by Himself (Cincinnati, 1847), 29-30.
[5] I’m going to side-step the idea of “illumination” as a valid doctrine. Suffice it to say that I have problems with it.
[6] And I’m setting aside the curious fact that the 2000 BFM removed a key statement from its earlier edition–i.e. the 1963 BFM. In the Preamble to the earlier edition, it was stated: “Throughout their history Baptist bodies, both large and small, have issued statements of faith which comprise a consensus of their beliefs. Such statements have never been regarded as complete, infallible statements of faith, nor as official creeds carrying mandatory authority.”

Leave a comment

Filed under Random

from the seedbed

In the mail yesterday, I received a copy of the Seedbed Sower’s Almanac. It’s a creative little booklet, with various bits of pastoral insight and adverts for new resources. It has also contains a few short articles related to Wesleyan theology. One of the bits of insight, by Howard Synder, caught my attention: the “Fourteen Favorite Ways to Twist the Gospel”. While I don’t think I am permitted to reproduce the entire contents, I think I’m safe in teasing you with the topic-points that Synder gives. Here they are:

  1. Interpret the gospel primarily through Romans
  2. Focus solely on “personal salvation”
  3. Make heaven the goal
  4. Support the clergy/laity split
  5. Think economics and politics are not directly gospel concerns
  6. De-prioritize community
  7. Neglect the Old Testament
  8. Limit justice to personal righteousness
  9. Neglect intercession
  10. Make believers instead of disciples
  11. Substitute heaven for the kingdom of God
  12. View faith as just a part of life
  13. Disregard Genesis 9
  14. Divorce discipleship from creation care

What he has to say about each one is insightful. I would encourage you to get a copy of it, if you can, so you can see the rest.

Leave a comment

Filed under Biblical-theology, Random

nothing new under the sun. including irrelevancy.

I’m sure the dude is a nice guy, and I’m sure he means well, and I’m sure he’s wanting to connect with people and present old ideas in an updated form. But frankly, this book‘s title borders on the ridiculous and its content is merely an echo and not a new song:

Screen Shot 2015-02-21 at 11.58.40

Two things, with an underlying third, bother me about this book. First, there is an inordinate amount of endorsements for the book. There are 42! As I’ve noted before, including such a multiplicity of accolades suggests either a pathological need for praise or an attempt to get wide-spread recognition to help push an otherwise crappy idea. Or it’s just a sad marketing strategy. Probably one of the the most absurd is from Tony Nolan:

Read Static Jedi and you’ll experience Eric Samuel Timm dropping some Jesus power on you, Obi-Won Kenobi style! But the force you’ll get isn’t fictional; it’s authentic Holy Spirit power helping you master the noisy gauntlet of life choices. Read this book!

I’ll let the absurdity and poor theology of this endorsement speak for itself. And probably one of the silliest is from Dr Ed Newton:

Static Jedi is more than a resource on spiritual intimacy; it’s a paradigm changer that will hydrate your soul into spiritual renewal.”

“Paradigm changer”? Seriously? Have you not read any of the other spirituality-self-help-styled books on the market? How is Static Jedi, other than the ridiculous title, any different? Moreover, how is this book a break from the mold of the classics–i.e. Brother Lawrences’ (far better) treatment of the subject? Saying this book is a “paradigm changer” is like saying Neil Cole’s book, Church 3.0 is revolutionary for how to do church. I’ve read Cole’s book. It’s not. The same is true for Mr Timm’s book. It’s not new, and it’s certainly not breaking out of an existing mold and creating new ones. It’s essentially nothing more than old principles in new language.

Second, there’s decision to associate (if not conflate) “Jedi” with Christian spirituality (let alone Christianity)–even if only in passing. I say “only in passing” because, Mr Timm never really defines what a “Static Jedi” is (which is problematic for his first chapter, since he’s asking people if they are one or want to become one) or even why he chose that phrase. The closest he comes is: “Static Jedi: One who masters the noise. Noise, existing in many shapes, consumes our time, real life, and ability to hear God. A Static Jedi is a form of master, teacher, and sensei” (Kindle loc. 286). Wow. That’s helpful. Okay, if that’s the definition, why use “Jedi”? Why not one of the other (more benign) terms?¹

That aside, one problem with the association is that Jedi are fictional characters. Why not rely on and use real people? Moreover, Jedi from the Star Wars narrative, and the 20th century religion, Jediism that developed out of that narrative are “nontheistic”² in their “theology”. More problematic, the “force” Jedi tap into, harness, and use is simply that: an impersonal thing built into the fabric of the universe. So far, I’m not seeing any parallels or any sound reason to associate it with Christianity. This problem could have been avoided if Mr Timm chose a better descriptive term. But there seems to be an underlying reason for choosing such a designation: an unspoken need to be relevant.

And that brings me to the third problem. The need for being relevant, or at least desiring to make the gospel–and its associated ideas–relevant always runs the risk of (and usually ends up in) irrelevancy. This fact was ably presented and defended in Os Guinness’ book, Prophetic Untimeliness: A Challenge to the Idol of Relevance (2003). Some insight from Guiness includes:

After two hundred years of earnest dedication to reinventing the faith and the church and to being more relevant in the world, we are confronted by an embarrassing fact: Never have Christians pursued relevance more strenuously; never have Christians been more irrelevant.

Our timeliness lies in the untimeliness of rejecting modern timeliness. Our moment and our hour depend upon our turning from the spurious models of the modern world to the real moment and the real hour seen only under God.

…many Christian leaders have become trendy. Obsessed with the new, they have produced only novelty. Staggering from one high of excitement to another, they have become jaded.

–Guinness, Prophetic Untimeliness (2003), 12, 23, 77

With all due respect, Mr Timm would have done well to consult Guinness’ advice before pitching ideas about Christian Jedi.

______________________________________
¹ Incidentally, and for whatever reason, Mr Timm switches terminology at various times in the book–e.g. “Static Master”.
² Cf. George D. Chryssides, Historical Dictionary of New Religious Movements (2011), 186.

2 Comments

Filed under Biblical-theology, Random

trying to see it from all sides, and not just from the stands

This is something I wrote for my brother early last year. It’s a brief(ish) exposition on John 3.16–the favorite verse placarded at football games. This exposition was mostly me thinking out loud. I’m completely open to further insights and/or criticisms.

____________________________________________

1. Historical Setting
The meeting with Nicodemus takes place early in Jesus’ public ministry.  To summarize: in Galilee, Jesus calls a small handful of disciples; with his disciples and mother, Jesus attends a wedding-feast in Cana (of Galilee), at which point he performs his first miracle—although the source or cause of the miracle is known only by the disciples; he then makes a short stay in Capernaum (15 miles east of Cana) before traveling roughly 80 miles south to Jerusalem, in order to attend the Passover.  However, instead of celebrating Jesus is enraged by what is being done in the Temple, and his actions bring him into immediate conflict with the religious elite.

It is on the heels of this conflict that the meeting with Nicodemus occurs.  Since 2.23 says Jesus remained in Jerusalem for the Passover, and since 3.22 says Jesus and his disciples traveled into the region of Judea, and since the encounter with Nicodemus falls between these passages; it is safe to assume that the conversation takes place while Jesus is still in Jerusalem.  Whether or not the conversation occurred specifically in the Temple proper, we cannot be absolutely sure; it seems reasonable enough to assume that it happened somewhere within the Temple complex.

With regard to the meeting itself, two points should be noted.  First, Nicodemus comes with an awareness of the “signs” (or miracles) that Jesus performed in the Temple (see 2.23).  We can assume either that news about the “signs” quickly spread to Nicodemus or that he himself witnessed the “signs.”  Second, Nicodemus meets with Jesus at night, most likely in an attempt to safeguard himself from the Jews, those angered by Jesus’ previous statements (see 2.18-20; cf. 19.38).  Although it is entirely possible that Nicodemus came to Jesus at night because it would ensure an “uninterrupted conversation” (Beasley-Murray 1987: 47).  Both of these points (i.e. “signs” and night-visit) will be crucial when we come to the question of theological themes.

2. Literary Relationship
John 3.1-21 is both preceded and followed by a discussion of Jesus’ identity, a discussion that pervades the entire Gospel narrative and one that has a specific goal (see 20.30-31).  At the start of chapter 1, we read a theological summary of Jesus’ true identity, one that remains virtually unknown to many throughout the narrative.  (Only the readers of the Gospel have knowledge of Jesus’ true identity).  Following this we read various testimonies about Jesus, although they tend to be quite vague and even cryptic.  Moreover, it becomes apparent in these instances that those testifying about Jesus are unaware of the full implications of what they are saying.

In chapter 2, we find illustrations of Jesus’ identity revealing itself in what he is able to do—e.g. water into wine, prophesying, performing signs and wonders.  It is here that we find evidence of the disciples (and others witnessing the words and deeds of Jesus) as not fully aware of Jesus’ true identity; they simply marvel at what he does.  In one text, John provides a parenthetical statement about the disciples’ later understanding of the events they witness now—see e.g. 2.20-22 (cf. 12.16).  Then, following the dialogue with Nicodemus, we have John the Baptizer’s testimony about Jesus’ identity, although once again we are confronted with vague and cryptic remarks (see 3.22-36).  However, despite the vagueness, these testimonies function as clues for understanding Jesus’ identity as the Gospel unfolds.

Between the descriptions of what Jesus is able to do and who he is, there is a discussion of why Jesus came.  This specific discussion is the dialogue between Nicodemus and Jesus, where the conversation begins with a question of identity but quickly moves to the topic of purpose.  To say this differently: we see how Jesus’ identity is necessarily connected with his role in God’s plan of salvation, a plan that remains hidden but is being revealed in and through Jesus.  Absolutely central to this conversation is the dilemma of how one is able to know Jesus’ true identity and purpose, and it is here we find a necessary distinction between ways of knowing.

3. Logical Structure
Based on the content and flow of the passage, John 3.1-21 divides fairly evenly.  In the first half (3.1-11) we have Nicodemus (and ostensibly a select group of Jews—many of the pronouns in this section are plural) expressing a particular view of who Jesus is.  It becomes obvious that this view is inadequate or even faulty, and the failure stems from an improper way of understanding or interpreting reality.  In the second half (3.12-21) we have Jesus (and ostensibly his disciples—cf. 3.11 and Jesus’ use of “we”) expressing an alternate view, one that is perfectly adequate or reasonable—and not simply because Jesus is the one giving it.  It is adequate or reasonable because it is consistent with the proper way of understanding or interpreting reality, and in this case that proper way is shaped by God’s revealed wisdom.

4. Theological Themes
In terms of order, the first theme to recognize is the tension between darkness and light.  As noted earlier, Nicodemus “came to him [Jesus] at night” (3.2).  While it might be historically the case, John’s interest in the time of the encounter is more theological.  John has already used “darkness” as a description for the state of the world at the time of Christ’s incarnation, which he further describes as “light” coming into the world (see 1.4-5, 9-10).  Moreover, the “darkness” is portrayed as unable to know (or comprehend) the “light,” and as a result the “darkness” rejects the “light.”  The sting of 3.11 is that while Nicodemus and some of the Jews are sympathetic to Jesus because of his deeds (cf. 2.23; 3.2b), they remain opposed to him because they reject his testimony concerning who he is (see Lincoln 2005: 152).  This introduces the second theme.

John 2 ends with Jesus not trusting those who only came to him because of the “signs” he performed (see Haenchen 1984: 1.192), a theme that reappears in the Gospel (e.g. 4.46-48; 6.14-15, 25-27).  In short: faith dependent upon “signs” (or miracles) is neither a stable nor adequate faith (see Bultmann 1971: 131).  Moreover, such faith operates according to a particular way of understanding or interpreting reality—especially the things of God—and this way is insufficient.  However, it is this faith (or belief) and this particular way of understanding that stand behind Nicodemus’ question and dialogue with Jesus.  Nicodemus understands only on a superficial (tangible?) level, which therefore hinders his ability to understand Jesus’ (hidden) meaning.  For Jesus, true belief (or true faith) is about seeing beyond the “signs” and coming into the presence of the one who has the power and authority to perform them (see 6.32-40, 51-58).

This (in)ability to see beyond the superficial represents the third theme: the tension between ignorance and knowledge.  Jesus’ refusal to trust those only seeking “signs” is said to be rooted in his knowledge of “what was in man” (2.25), which suggests a knowledge of identity and purpose, whereas Nicodemus’ failure to understand Jesus’ teaching is rooted in an improper way of knowing.  In other words: Nicodemus is ignorant of God’s revelation in Jesus whereas Jesus has full knowledge of God’s wisdom.  To put it yet another way: Nicodemus attempts to know God’s wisdom via human efforts or reasoning (bottom-up), while Jesus says such wisdom can only be known by God’s revelation (top-down).  Thus, only by a transformation of mind can one know God’s wisdom and thereby his salvation, which results in entering the kingdom (see 3.3, 5; cf. 3.13; Rom 12.1-2; 1 Cor 2.10-12).  Hence, one must be “born from above” (3.3).

Closely associated with this is the last theme: the tension between death and (eternal) life.  Throughout the conversation the emphasis falls on (eternal) life, with death being primarily an implication (cf. 3.16, which contains the only [direct] reference to death in the entire passage).  It is worth noting that the discussion on (eternal) life occurs in the context of God’s kingdom, God’s revelation, God’s salvation in Jesus, and the appropriate way for understanding all of these things.  Moreover, it is no mistake that only here in John’s Gospel is (eternal) life necessarily linked with Jesus’ identity and purpose (see Brown 1971: 1.147; Ridderbos 1997: 136-39) and true belief in Jesus’ identity and purpose as the only way to (eternal) life (cf. Acts 4.12).  We see this in 3.14b where Jesus affirms: “it is necessary for the Son of Man to be lifted up”, with the reason for the necessity given in 3.15: “so that whoever believes in him might have eternal life.”  Thus, the possibility of (eternal) life is dependent upon Christ being “lifted up” (i.e. crucified) and participation in that (eternal) life is dependent upon belief in both the purpose and work of Christ.

Leave a comment

Filed under Biblical-theology, Random

a modicum of solace

Yesterday The Guardian provided the results of an American-based survey on various conspiracy theories. Interestingly, the headline focused only on one of the 26 questions: Obama as the Antichrist. Two things–one about the headline, and one about the survey–and then a third, which is less troubling.

With regard to the headline, it’s a bit misleading. According to the numbers in the results (the full break-down is here), only 13% believe Obama is the Antichrist. That’s hardly “one in four Americans.” The only way you can get close to a “one in four” charge (i.e. 25%) is if you lump the 13% from the “not sure” category, which is what Paul Harris does in the article. He does this on the basis that “not sure” = “possibly so” or “I could be convinced”. A bit shady on the method, but understandable. “One in four” sounds better and (slightly) more widespread than “one in seven(ish)”.

With regard to the survey, it too is a bit misleading. If we went on the title alone, we get the impression that 25% of (all) Americans believe Obama is the Antichrist. Given the population of the US (315,610,625, as of 8.30 this morning), that would mean something around 78,902,656.25. (Who is the .25 of a person!?). But that can’t be right. Outside of Garnier, who would survey that many people? Harris does explain that the survey involved only “a sample of American voters”. Okie dokie. According to this site, last year there were 146,311,000 registered voters in the US (a number that seems too clean for my taste, but no matter). So if we use that number, then, according to Harris’ “one in four” charge, that would mean 36,577,750 people surveyed believe Obama to be the Antichrist. (Thankfully, no fractions of people this time). But that can’t be right either.

Conveniently (or smartly), Harris leaves out the exact size of the sample, and he suspiciously leaves out any links to survey itself. Again, it sounds so much better and more–dare I say–condemning to say “one in four Americans” and let people assume that the number is huge. But what about facts? If you were to take the 12 seconds to do your own search and locate the survey in question (or just use the link I supplied–you’re welcome), you would see that the sample-size is . . . get ready for this . . . 1247. I didn’t leave out any numbers. 1,2,4,7. That’s all. Seriously, Harris: Asda’s got more stuff on sale.

Accordingly, if we use Harris’ bold figure of 25%, that would mean only 311.75 people believe Obama is the Antichrist. That’s not “one in four”. That’s like one in a million (I think; my maths are a little rusty this morning). But no one is going to care if Harris says that figure, so it’s no wonder that his misleadingly says, “one in four”. Things get uglier if we use the solid number of 13%, which would bring the total to a whopping 162.11 people. That’s just under one in every two million (again, I think). Seriously, Harris: you’re going to paint 1/4 of Americans with a brush admittedly used by only 162.11 people? Tsk! Tsk!

The third thing, and this is the modicum of solace: only 162.11 people admit to believing Obama to be the Antichrist. I don’t mean to sound crass, but it’s comforting to know that only 162.11 people have a faulty understanding of the Antichrist. If we follow what the Johannine Epistles say, the “antichrist” (ἀντιχριστος) is anyone who “denies the Father and the Son” (1Jn 2.22) and/or denies “Jesus Christ as coming in the flesh” (2Jn 1.7). While the Johannine Epistle seem to suggest a solitary figure–i.e. the Antichrist–appearing in the last days (cf. 1Jn 2.18; 4.3), nothing definite is said about him (or her–sorry, I have to be PC these days). However, since the language of the Epistles on this matter is apocalyptic, we can safely assume that this solitary figure is understood in apocalyptic terms–i.e. he (or she) ain’t human. And if he (or she) ain’t human, then Obama can’t be the Antichrist. Same goes for the new Pope–contra this guy–or any other person.

1 Comment

Filed under Biblical-theology, Political, Random, Social

just a hunch

Wondering about recent “street-level” books on Paul (just something I do from time to time; not sure why), I decided to check Christianbook.com–a book distributor that this guy thinks is absolutely wicked–to see if anything new has emerged. While I did find a couple that looked rather interesting, I was immediately struck by a book on the front-page:

Screen Shot 2013-01-07 at 01.17.27

I remember hearing about and seeing this book when it first came out, and I remember thinking/hoping that it wouldn’t last. Partly because it follows a similar paradigm used in many “church growth” books–i.e. the system is shot, people have tried other ways to fix it and failed, they don’t know what else to do; I have a “new way” [nb: usually presented as “never-been-tried-before”], and if you use it in your church it will work wonders, etc. (Don’t writers of these kinds of books see that that paradigm/system is shot?) Moreover, the thrust of The Circle Maker, despite appearances, is not about God; it’s about self-interest and the delusion of entitlement. I figured (=hoped) it wouldn’t take long for people to see through the façade.

Thus, I must admit my surprise seeing that The Circle Maker has hung around this long. But then again, it has been significantly reduced in price. There might be a (really good) reason why it’s been reduced 67%: the premise and ultimate focus of the book (i.e. the self) are crappy. At the same time, there might be a reason why the book is radically reduced rather than completely pulled: it maintains the cash-flow for the publisher rather than stopping it. This is the same reason why publishers and book sellers still put out (failed) doomsday/end-time books (e.g. this drivel by Hal Lindsey). That reason is not about endorsing content; it’s about making money. Just a hunch.

Leave a comment

Filed under Biblical-theology, Random

asking for trouble

My day typically begins c. 6.45am; 7.00am if I’m feeling lazy. By 7.15am/7.30am the first round of coffee is about to be consumed, and I start my search for mental jolt. (For some reason, for me, coffee fails in the jolting business). This usually means finding a book or article that I know will bug me and put me on the defensive. The sooner I’m kicked into critical thinking mode the better. This morning, the chosen jolt was an article with the prickly title, “Who Is Wrong? A Review of John Gerstner’s Wrongly Dividing the Word of Truth” (R.L. Mayhue in The Master’s Seminary Journal 3.1 [1992]: 73-94).

To clarify the basic tension of the article (for those who are unaware): Gerstner’s book, as the tagline reveals, is a “Critique of Dispensationalism”, and his chosen adverbiage, “Wrongly” indicates where he comes down on that critique.¹ He ain’t in favor of it (at least its particular hermeneutic). The Master’s Seminary Journal is produced and disseminated by none other than The Master’s Seminary (California), and TMS, as their statement of faith indicates (briefly here and especially here), is an advocate of Dispensationalism. Since Mayhue is on staff at TMS, we can safely guess where his “review” of Gerstner’s critique is headed. (The implied either-or of his title and the choice to use TMS’s journal to offer the “review” are telling clues).

Here’s what bugged me about the article, and it’s something Mayhue said quite early in his discussion/monologue. Mayhue states (more or less; more on the less side) one of Gerstner’s key problems with Dispensationalism–i.e. it fails to do proper justice to biblical soteriology, ecclesiology, and eschatology, and the necessary links between them. Mayhue accuses (albeit in subtle ways) Gerstner of allowing his Reformed tradition (i.e. Calvinism, specifically) to govern his interpretation of both the biblical doctrines in view and Dispensationalism. The implication is that Mayhue see such allowance as inappropriate. Then Mayhue asserts:

[Gerstner] seems to debate from the following basic syllogism, though he never states it so succinctly as this:

Premise 1: Calvinism is central to all true theology
Premise 2: Dispensationalism does not embrace Calvinism
Conclusion: Dispensationalism is a ‘spurious’ and ‘dubious’ expression of true theology (p. 2).

Thus, he strongly calls for dispensationalism’s quick surrender.

–Mayhue, “Who Is Wrong?,” 75.

The reason this bugged me has three parts. First, Mayhue (subtly) criticizes Gerstner for allowing his theological tradition (i.e. Calvinism) to dictate his interpretation. On this point, Mayhue (rightly) states: “Presuppositions and assumptions undergird all reasoned thought” (81). However, Mayhue does not acknowledge (or recognize) that Dispensationalism must necessarily be included in that truth. He overlooks the fact that Dispensationalism has its own presuppositions and assumptions and they necessarily govern the interpretative process. In fact, Classical and Modified (or Revised) Dispensationalism² essentially require loyalty to the interpretative system they establish in order to understand properly the theological conclusions they find.

Second, Mayhue’s “review” (=polemic) operates on the basis of the suggested syllogism, which Mayhue acknowledges as never clearly articulated as he gives it. This means Mayhue’s criticisms focus on Mayhue’s interpretation of Gerstner’s logic as though that interpretation is an accurate reflection of what Gerstner clearly argues. (Admittedly I have not read Gerstner’s book, so I do not know for sure how accurate Mayhue’s interpretation is).

Third, Mayhue’s own argument in particular and Dispensationalism in general are not exempt from the charges of the suggested syllogism. To say this differently: the same argument Mayhue uses against Gerstner can be turned around and used against Mayhue. In effect it would go something like this:

Premise 1: Dispensationalism is central to all true interpretation of Bible (i.e. “rightly dividing the word of truth”)³
Premise 2: Non-Dispensationalists do not embrace the hermeneutical system of Dispensationalism
Conclusion: Non-Dispensationalist readings do not represent true interpretations of the Bible; they are all ill-informed, dubious, spurious, liberal, and unorthodox.

The implication of this argument is that if one does not embrace Dispensationalism, then one does not embrace the true meaning of the Bible; and if one does not embrace that true meaning, then one cannot be faithful to its message; and if one is not faithful to its message, then how can that person truly claim to be evangelical? The trouble is that the Dispensational hermeneutic and its particular emphases are what need to be embraced, and they tend to be prioritized over core tenets of historic Christian orthodoxy. In the words of Levar Burton: “You don’t have to take my word for it.” Here is a confession from a former Dispensationalist named, Clarence Bass (in the 1960s):

Even today some of my dearest friends are convinced that I have departed from the evangelical faith. No affirmation of my belief in the cardinal doctrines of faith–the virgin birth, the efficaciousness of Christ’s death, the historicity of the resurrection, the necessity of the new birth, even the fervent expectancy of the person, literal, actual bodily return of the Lord to earth–will convince them, because I have ceased to ‘rightly divide the word of truth’.

–quoted in S.J. Grenz, The Millennial Maze (1992), 92–emphasis original.

_____________________________________
¹ Also, for those who don’t know, Gerstner’s title takes a not-so-subtle jab at an earlier work called, Rightly Dividing the Word of Truth (1896) by C.I. Scofield–the champion of Dispensationalism in the US.
² While I am generally not a fan of Classical and Modified (or Revised) Dispensationalism (and its proponents), I am more appreciative of so-called Progressive Dispensationalism (and its advocates). However, please do not mistake appreciation for acceptance.
³ What Scofield meant by this phrase (taken from 2Tim 2.15) is not what Paul meant by that phrase. In fact, how Scofield uses that passage to construct and justify his Dispensational interpretation reveals his ignorance of Paul’s meaning.

2 Comments

Filed under Biblical-theology, Random