Threads from Henry's Web

Category: Author Related

Posts that relate in some way to my books. Excludes administrative posts and most reviews of other people’s books.

  • Stuck on Silent Saturday?

    OK, it’s Easter Sunday morning, and I can join the chorus: He is risen!

    But I know from experience that there are Christians out there who are stuck on silent Saturday or Good Friday. For them, Christianity is all–and only–about the cross. Jesus died, they died in Jesus. They had no hope. Jesus is their hope–but they don’t seem to live it.

    If you’re not in that place, you can just ignore me, but if you are, remember Easter morning. The point is not that death and suffering are wonderful. The point of realizing your need is not to go on realizing your need. If I’m thirsty, I get a drink of water. Then I’m not thirsty any more. If you’re in need of redemption, find redemption–and don’t keep acting like you never did find it.

    I think that in many of our arguments over historical issues, we forget the meaning of the story. The meaning isn’t about doom, death, and destruction. The story tells us that doom, death, and destruction lose in the end.

    By going past silent Saturday, I don’t mean that your pretend that bad things don’t happen. Rather, I ask for an essential Easter optimism that says that even when the worst is happening, there’s something to work toward, something to look forward to.

    Paul says:

    We were buried therefore with him through baptism to death, that just like Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we also might walk in newness of life. — Romans 6:4 (WEB)

    Just so, brother Paul! He’s the one who is most often quoted by the hopelessness crowd, especially his words in Romans 7. But I think Paul was just pretty realistic. Looking and working for good endings doesn’t mean one doesn’t recognize the bad. Recognizing the reality of bad things doesn’t mean giving up on good things.

    My wife and I lost a son to cancer at age 17. (She wrote a book, Grief: Finding the Candle of Light.) That’s a bad thing. You may wonder why I put it that way. Some say, “Obviously it’s bad.” Others are thinking I’m putting it too lightly. Yet others are thinking, “He’s a Christian, writing on Easter Sunday morning, and God works all things for the good of those who love him, so it’s not really bad.”

    No, it’s really bad. It was, is, and will be really bad. There still are moments when I remember him like he had been here only moments before. When I take his little dog out for a walk in the morning, I remember how he used to stop on his way to school to say good bye to his dog when he saw us walking. It’s a painful moment. I acknowledge it. You should acknowledge your painful moments, times, and seasons as well.

    But then there are other things. There is the John Webb Golf Tournament that raises money for the child life program at Sacred Heart Hospital. There are many lives that he touched both before and during his illness.

    Do these things make illness and death a good thing? No! Easter morning didn’t make the cross painless either. The point is that you get past it, build on it, shake your fist at death and despair and say, “You don’t get the last word!”

    That, I believe, is something Easter should re-teach us each year. Death doesn’t get the last word. Evil doesn’t get the last word.

    He has risen. Have you?

  • Atonement: The Error Adrian Warnock and Giles Fraser Share

    Adrian says it wouldn’t be Easter “without a row about the atonement” and he has promptly located one in a Guardian article by Giles Fraser, in which Fraser says:

    Thinking about the celebration of Holy Week in my new adopted cathedral brings home to me quite how important it is for Christians to insist upon a non-sacrificial reading of the death of Christ. For too long, Christians have put up with a theory of salvation that has at its core the idea that God requires the sacrifice of his own son so that human sin can be cancelled. “There was no other good enough to pay the price of sin,” we will all sing. The fact this is a disgusting idea, and morally degenerate, is obvious to all but those indoctrinated into a very narrow reading of the cross.

    Adrian, in presumed response (I can’t find his precise quote in the article he links), says:

    I am not surprised by the strong language used by the opponents of the view of the cross generally called “penal substitutionary atonement” but understood by millions of children simply as “Jesus died to be punished for our sin.” If millions of Christians are as wrong as Fraser believes then no wonder that he would speak the way he does.

    But I would note here that for many, the word “punished” is not nearly so central, and the statement is that Jesus died for our sins, whatever that may mean. Most of us will admit that we don’t know quite precisely what it means.

    So let me confess here right up front that I don’t really understand the atonement. But before all you knowledge-filled people jump up to tell me how you do understand it, and are thus in a position to set me straight, I’m going to refer you to 1 Corinthians 8:2, which I think applies here.

    And that’s the problem with these views. Adrian points out that both those who find penal substitutionary atonement is “the most precious truth of the Bible,” and those who believe it is “cosmic child abuse” cannot both be right. I agree! But both of them can quite easily be wrong.

    Now I don’t want to make accusations regarding Giles Fraser. It’s possible that he might nuance his point a little more if he had more space than a newspaper column. Adrian, on the other hand, has convinced me rather thoroughly that he is clear on his view and intends what he says. My summary, which I make available for criticism, is that penal substitutionary atonement, the idea that Jesus took the punishment demanded by God for our sins, and that this is to be understood in a judicial sense, is the true core meaning of the atonement.

    The response of some seems to be, “No, it isn’t. It doesn’t mean that at all. It means something else entirely.”

    That’s the error that I think is shared. In fact, I’m going to suggest that any statement that says that the singular meaning of the atonement is X, is wrong for any value of X. Neither side seems to be able to handle metaphor. Oh, we’ll get acknowledgment that theological language is metaphorical, but the same persons who make such statements don’t behave as though the language is metaphorical.

    To Adrian I would say that the language of penal substitution is a highly refined and narrowed form of one scriptural way of talking about atonement. It even deprives the sacrificial metaphors of much of their meaning, because sacrifice is not centrally about judicial penalties.

    One of the problems with understanding the death of Jesus as a sacrifice is that most of us in the Christian world have a very narrow and superficial idea of what sacrifice was about in the ancient world. If we’re going to use the metaphor of sacrifice, we ought at least to use it in a Jewish context, and not emphasize the most pagan elements, such as appeasement.

    But again, I would tell Adrian and those in his camp that if this particular metaphor suffices to make them believe that God forgives them, and thus is for them the most precious truth of scripture, then by all means see it as precious and cling to it. That’s what a good metaphor is about.

    But at the same time, realize that this specific formulation isn’t all there is to it, and isn’t necessarily central. Others may find their understanding comes through other metaphors. Metaphors are useful that way–not everybody has to get cozy with every one of them!

    But to turn to those on the side of Giles Fraser, don’t throw out the metaphor just because some people have grabbed it as a singular truth. You’re quite right to object to some results of the penal view of the atonement, and even the sacrificial view. But the penal view is only part of the sacrificial view, and the notion of sacrifice is an important part of how theology of the atonement developed and is understood.

    It’s a metaphor; it doesn’t tell us everything. It’s not supposed to. But the beauty of metaphors is that you can use many different ones to describe the same thing, with each one giving you additional light and understanding.

    In addition, one metaphor provides a corrective for another. When sacrifice or penal substitution leads us to see God as vindictive, we then need to look to other ones to help build our understanding of God.

    There is a beauty in the cross, but it’s a beauty that comes through transformation. Jesus took what was disgusting, despicable, and evil, symbolic of the worst of human nature, and transformed it. A symbol can be transformed.

    One way to understand that transformation is by the metaphor of sacrifice, but Jesus also transformed the very idea of sacrifice. Fraser alludes to this, but then proceeds to dispose of the metaphor itself. If you dispose of the metaphor of sacrifice, how can you see the transformation? If you dispose of the cross, how will you see God’s transforming power?

    If you try to blot out Good Friday, how will you comprehend Easter morning?

  • Liberal illiberalism: Olbermann on Banks and News Outlets

    Keith Olbermann, regularly angry about many things, is angry about the bank bonuses. (I blogged some about this here.) His answer?

    Break up the banks. Regulate the financial industries, to within an inch of their existences. Roll back corporate legal protections. Make liable the officers of corporations, for their debts, and for their deeds. Resurrect the rallying cry of a hundred years past: bust the trusts! (from MSNBC)

    It amazes me how quick people on either side of the political spectrum are to throw law, reason, and caution to the winds when they’re angry about something. If the Bush administration, for example, had gone after businesses in such a manner because of some security issue, doubtless Olbermann would have been shocked at their perfidy–rightly so. There are right and wrong ways to go about these things.

    But more importantly, the reason the banks are behaving badly with the money they were given is that:

    a) they behaved badly
    b) they got in trouble
    c) the government bailed them out without asking them to change their behavior

    In other words, our government has been rewarding just this behavior. We’re asking when who knew what. But my question is this: What reason did anyone have to expect anything different? The obvious result of a set of actions takes place, and people are shocked.

    But Olbermann, who is quite capable of recognizing something unconstitutional or illegal (or sometimes even stupid) when done by his opponents is unable to see it when he himself proposes it. What he suggests in that paragraph involves punishing the guilty with the innocent, destroying the very foundation of corporate law, and would certainly tromp right on across constitutional boundaries.

    But Olbermann is not finished. Because the media didn’t get out the information, we need to get the government to make sure that the media is fair and that good information get out. Remember, this is the same government that failed to provide any reason why these people should not behave in this manner. People who can’t even write a decent contract for a loan are then asked to make sure that the American people get accurate information.

    Never mind that he is now jumping all over the first amendment. He’s on a roll. If people don’t choose good information sources, make sure that they have to do so.

    Like this:

    Make sure both sides are heard. Re-regulate the radio and television industries to limit station ownership and demand diversity of management and product. Re-instate the old rules that denied one man all the voices in a public square. End all waivers of multiple ownership of television stations and networks and newspapers in the same market. (from MSNBC)

    He continues by calling for similar regulation for the cable industry.

    This is rampant stupidity. Olbermann wants to limit ownership to produce diversity. I think that was wrong even when there were limited broadcast outlets, but in the modern world, it is close to insane. People are not that limited as to what they can hear, but even more, there’s no reason to expect that having the government decide what is “in the public interest” and what the people need to hear is going to somehow improve the flow of information.

    Besides some folks in the corporate world, who is close to the information here? The government. And who is falling flat and lying to cover it up? Those very government agencies charged with the task of keeping it from happening!

    So let’s see. In order to improve the regulation, let’s give the people who failed more power, to “[r]egulate the financial industries, to within an inch of their existences.” Of course we have been told all along that these institutions must somehow be protected. But when the veneer is stripped off, we get down to the real idea–let’s destroy them.

    Having admitted that goal, Olbermann proposes similar treatment for media outlets. Can one doubt that destruction of even the value that there remains in our media would be the ultimate result?

    I am often called liberal, and I don’t argue. I am certainly libertarian. When it’s time to deal with issues such as the rights of the accused at trial, a willingness to provide every opportunity for exoneration if there is evidence, providing safety nets to the weakest folks in our society, or taming rampant militarism in foreign policy, I am rightfully called liberal. I don’t reject the label, even though I prefer “passionate moderate.”

    But there are plenty of liberals running around who don’t deserve the title. When “liberal” spells handing all the power to government, and none to the people, then it isn’t “liberal.” With the same passion that I want to make sure that someone accused of a crime receives due process and eventually receives justice, I also want to make sure that a trader on Wall Street who has broken no law should not be deprived of his lawful earnings. If they are undeserved (and these bonuses are) there are proper ways of dealing with it.

    The Republicans have been accused of having contempt for people who are from cities, or are part of the intellectual elites, or various other folks who are’t from the “real America.” The Democrats have been accused of despising small town America, gun owners, church-goers and so forth.

    Unfortunately, it appears to me that both accusations are absolutely right. To some on the liberal side of the spectrum the guy who does his ordinary job for an ordinary work week, and spends the weekend in a hunting blind with his rifle or his shotgun, then heads off to church on Sunday moring just isn’t real. To some of the folks on the right–and now on the left as well, if you work in investment instead of digging a ditch or being a university professor, you aren’t quite real and your rights don’t matter.

    It may be stupid for a company to give bonuses to those who produced catastrophe, but there is a proper forum for action on such things, and that is the shareholders’ meeting. What about the public money? If we didn’t want it used in that way, we should have specified that in the law, just as a lender might when making a loan.

    Now we have representatives and senators who presumably meant it when they swore to uphold the constitution, voting for a special law to tax certain people’s specific earnings. It’s ridiculous. They know better. They’re using the legislative process to make people believe they’re truly outraged, but in doing so they’re expressing contempt for the constitution they chose to uphold. (To those who are going to say “What did you expect of Keith Olbermann?” I will call attention to the actual lawmakers who seem to be singing from the same hymnal.)

    After my criticisms of Republicans over the years there have been some who wondered why I will not in turn register as a Democrat. Well, you can see it in action right now. My problem, a problem I intend to keep, is that I care about the rights of rich people and poor, ditch diggers and Wall Street investors, college professors, builders, waitresses–everyone who tries to produce at all.

    I believe they should have the opportunity to carry out their business under a rational set of laws. If the law isn’t rational, you need to blame the people who wrote it and pretended it was something different, not the people who did their best to work under it.

    But even more importantly, I believe that people must have the opportunity to seek their own sources of information, even if they choose Fox News, or newspapers of which Keith Olbermann doesn’t approve. You do not diversity the flow of information by limiting it.

    I try to accept it when I’m called a liberal, because it’s usually the result of beliefs I hold very dear. I think the fear of the label is silly. But when you call for regulating banks “to within an inch of their existences” or when you want the government to make sure the media is “fair” then either you’re not a liberal or I’m not.

    I won’t fight over the label. I’ll just call the ideas stupid and destructive.

  • Is it a Homeschooling Case?

    By “it” I refer to the the case of Vanessa Mills v. Thomas Mills in Wake County, North Carolina. Timothy Sandefur has written on this, and we also have a short response from Doug on Stones Cry Out. Under a large number of conditions I might agree with Doug, but on reading this ruling, I think the judge did a pretty good job of balancing things out.

    Let me note that I was homeschooled 8 out of 12 years before college, and I currently have a granddaughter who is being homeschooled. I do not in any way regret being homeschooled. In fact, I think I would have been something between bored and horrified to have attended public school. Never having actually attended, I’m not in a good position to be certain. I’m terribly proud of my daughter who is homeschooling my granddaughter, and doing very well. So please don’t think I’m against homeschooling.

    But having read the judge’s decision, and his findings of fact, I think this is being read wrong by much of the blogosphere. I will comment only that when such an issue comes up in a divorce case, there is almost always much more involved than meets the eye, and that appears to be true in this case.

    I would strongly suggest reading the actual ruling [PDF], and Timothy Sandefur’s comments. I think this has little to do with homeschooling, and much to do with the kind of issues that come up in divorce, especially when one party has very controversial religious beliefs.

    I think the judge did well, for example, in #3 on page 8 of the ruling, in ordering that the two parents are not allowed to disparage one another in the presence of the children, and they each can practice their religion as they see fit during their portion of the joint custody time.

    There are plenty of unreasonable actions taken against homeschoolers. Outrage should be reserved for those, in my view. This case is about a nasty divorce and competing religious beliefs in it, not about homeschooling.

  • St. Gregory the Theologian on Ransom and the Bronze Serpent

    I was delighted to find this quote via the Orthodox Study Bible, though I must add to my complaints about that edition the fact that they cite church fathers by name, but without providing a reference to the particular work.  A visit to the St. Pachomius Library and then ewtn.com resolved the latter question.

    The quote is from St. Gregory the Theologian’s Second Paschal Oration, XXII:

    TWENTY-TWO

Now we are to examine another fact and dogma, neglected by most
people, but in my judgment well worth enquiring into.  To Whom was
that Blood offered that was shed for us, and why was it shed?  I mean
the precious and famous Blood of our God and Highpriest and Sacrifice.
We were detained in bondage by the Evil One, sold under sin, and
receiving pleasure in exchange for wickedness.  Now, since a ransom
belongs only to him who holds in bondage, I ask to whom was this
offered, and for what cause?

If to the Evil One, fie upon the outrage!  If the robber receives
ransom, not only from God, but a ransom which consists of God Himself,
and has such an illustrious payment for his tyranny, a payment for
whose sake it would have been right for him to have left us alone
altogether.

But if to the Father, I ask first, how?  For it was not by Him that we
were being oppressed; and next, On what principle did the Blood of His
Only begotten Son delight the Father, Who would not receive even
Isaac, when he was being offered by his Father, but changed the
sacrifice, putting a ram in the place of the human victim?  Is it not
evident that the Father accepts Him, but neither asked for Him nor
demanded Him; but on account of the Incarnation, and because Humanity
must be sanctified by the Humanity of God, that He might deliver us
Himself, and overcome the tyrant, and draw us to Himself by the
mediation of His Son, Who also arranged this to the honour of the
Father, Whom it is manifest that He obeys in all things?

So much we have said of Christ; the greater part of what we might say
shall be reverenced with silence.  But that brazen serpent [Num. 21:9]
was hung up as a remedy for the biting serpents, not as a type of Him
that suffered for us, but as a contrast; and it saved those that
looked upon it, not because they believed it to live, but because it
was killed, and killed with it the powers that were subject to it,
being destroyed as it deserved.  And what is the fitting epitaph for
it from us?  "O death, where is thy sting?  O grave, where is thy
victory?"  Thou art overthrown by the Cross; thou art slain by Him who
is the Giver of life; thou art without breath, dead, without motion,
even though thou keepest the form of a serpent lifted up on high on a
pole.

    There are two elements that particularly attracted me to this quote.  The OrthSB quotes the final section about the serpent, which goes well with this week’s lectionary texts.  I like the idea that it was precisely the fact that the serpent on the pole is dead that provides the healing.  He is a defeated serpent.  It would also provide some interesting context to the worship of the serpent up to Hezekiah’s time, that is until Hezekiah broke it up (2 Kings 18:4).  This differs from part of the interpretation I provided yesterday in my lectionary notes.

    If you’re missing out on the eastern church fathers regarding the atonement, you are missing out on a lot.

  • Brothers at War

    Irrespective of one’s view on war, I think we should strongly support our troops and those they leave behind.

    While I was in the military I was single, but I had close friends who were married and left children behind. One of my best friends was away for the first gulf war for about three months longer than I was. I used to go over and play some with his kids. (Their main conclusion about me was that, unlike their dad, I couldn’t build any kind of sewer using building blocks–the teenage mutant ninja turtles was all the rage.)

    His wife told me that when their son saw a parade welcoming troops coming home he started crying and asked, “Why isn’t my daddy coming home?” Eventually his daddy did come home, and that was a happy ending.

    Today I saw Gary Sinise interviewed about Brothers at War. I haven’t had an opportunity to see more than the trailers, but this looks like a movie that is worth watching. I plan to see it as soon as I can.

  • Relating Ritual, Symbol, and Reality – A Question

    I was looking at this week’s lectionary passages, and a relationship with my current study of Leviticus struck me.  How precisely do our actions and rituals symbolize what we’re trying to represent?  Is it possible that all they do is open up the questions for us?  I wrote about some of the oddness of God’s offering of grace, if viewed from the human perspective, in my lectionary notes.

    Now here’s what strikes me in reading Leviticus, or even better in reading from about Exodus 21-Numbers:  The symbols illustrate to a greater or lesser degree a vast array of the elements of the way in which we relate to God.  We can look at this historically, as in a historical separation from God, with Jesus tearing open the veil and allowing all of us access to the throne of grace.

    We can also see it as an illustration of our own lives and progress.  We each start with a certain distance to traverse toward God.  There are those who help lead us to God.  Those who object to the notion of “priest” with reference to the pastoral role neglect this aspect, I think.  Some try to push pastor or priest aside because we all have access, but for each person, and even for the community as a whole, there is still a need for the priestly role until we all actually attain that direct access to God.

    Those who quibble about sacrificial rules when discussing the sacrifice of Jesus miss the point as well.  The animal sacrifices pointed to elements of our relationship to God and the way in which God related to us.  I’m not arguing here for a directly type-antitype, i.e. singular relationship between these sacrifices and Jesus.  The sacrifices themselves continually pointed Israel to God’s grace, the way it was offered, and the duty it placed on the recipients.

    The tabernacle system of worship also included elements of community, of individual responsibility for the group and group responsibility for the individual, of praise, simple worship, and even of the need for certain routines and certainties in our lives.

    As I noted regarding the lectionary texts, the serpent was an equivocal symbol.  We are called to look on a symbol that is equivocal when we look at the cross.  Our human eyes will see death.  The Holy Spirit can enlighten us to see life.  The cross looks distinctively different depending on which side you’re on when you look.  Looking back it’s a symbol of life.  Looking forward, it’s a fearful, dangerous thing looking a great deal like death.

    The rituals of the tabernacle emphasize life and its importance, but they did so with a great deal of death.  They too had that kind of double look.  We live in a world that is filled with such symbols.  Perhaps we should not be too anxious to reconcile them too thoroughly.

    I’m just thinking out loud and rambling.  What do you think?

  • In Which a Calvinist Annoys and Delights Me

    Or you can call him “Reformed.” I personally dislike that particular term because to many people it implies that other protestants never passed through the reformation, that only the Calvinists “reformed.” All of which can also ignore the adjustments in Catholic theology since the time of the reformation. But that’s all a side issue, and I’m going to use the term anyhow, as those who keep up with theology at all are aware of the current meaning.

    I think that Adrian Warnock has an exceptional ability to pick out annoying portions of quotes, as he does in his post Piper on Leading People Towards Reformed Theology. Now I don’t mean annoying in the sense that it is somehow convicting. I mean it in the sense that it frames the opposition inappropriately, in my view, and in this case it looks a bit arrogant.

    Now having read Adrian’s extract, I clicked on through to Piper’s original words, and while they still contain that which annoys me, to which I’ll respond in a moment, they come in a much better context. Piper, who is an exceptional preacher in my opinion, even or especially when I’m busy disagreeing with him, is providing advice for a Reformed pastor who finds himself pastoring an Arminian congregation. His advice is excellent. I’d advise any pastor who has a congregation that disagrees with him in theology to follow it.

    I think it would work just as well for an Arminian pastor who ends up pastoring a predominantly Reformed congregation, or any pastor who ends up pastoring a congregation that is not in tune with his theology. I’d like to recommend his advice to those United Methodist pastors who end up in a congregation that wants to be entertained, while the pastor wants to become more God-centered. Be who you believe you’re supposed to be. If certain aspects of theology are too difficult or controversial, focusing on God and who God is will be an excellent place to start.

    Similarly, if you’re a liberal pastoring a conservative congregation, you too can focus on God. I assume that if you’re a pastor, you believe that the social imperatives you accept result from who God is and what God desires. So preach about who God is.

    Of course, as Piper notes as well, there may be a time to move on, and I personally would add that one shouldn’t seek out such a mismatch. But I know of a number of United Methodist ministers who feel very challenged by the beliefs (or lack of same) in their congregations, yet believe strongly they are called by God to be where they are.

    All those parts of Piper’s post are a delight. I’m not going to try to quote from it. You need to read the whole thing. In a few paragraphs, Piper gives all of us good advice–provided we ignore the slanted Reformed and Arminian bias, to which I now turn my attention.

    Piper says:

    In other words, a Reformed position mainly means, God is really big, really strong, really powerful, really knowledgeable, really wise, really great, really weighty, and he is going to be big in this service, and we’re going to make a big deal out of God here. There are a lot of born-again Arminian people who like that. It’s because they don’t see the implications of their theology.

    The bottom line here is that this is not really the main Reformed position, at least not in distinction to other positions. I normally like to let people define themselves, but if that definition includes “unlike me” I am quite prepared to object. I too believe God is strong, knowledgeable, wise, and weighty, and you can put however many “really’s” in front of each word, because “infinite” licenses you to do so. I think the worship service should center around divine things as well.

    Arminian theology doesn’t imply anything else either. You see, “God is sovereign” means that God gets to do what God wants, and that includes anything whatsoever that God wants to do, including ordaining free will. Somehow some Calvinists think that predestination gives greater glory to God because it takes human beings out of the equation. But you don’t give greater glory by saying something false about a person or thing. If I praise my hammer as a saw, I’m just being silly. It won’t make it a saw, and it won’t make anyone regard my hammer more highly because of its saw-like attributes.

    I would note the condescension in the final sentence of the quote about us illogical Arminians. It may seem nice to give us the excuse of ignorance or blindness, but it seems to replace a certain spiritual arrogance with an intellectual variety.

    That doesn’t answer the question of who is correct, however, because my argument cuts both ways. If I’m wrong about free will, I do not increase God’s glory by proclaiming it either. That’s beyond the scope of this particular post.

    This ties in with my current series on Interpreting the Bible, and particular my last post in which I said:

    Now how does this apply to my test passages? I want to make clear here that the problem with the passages I cited is not that I don’t like what they say. My feelings about what a passage says do not impact what it’s now dead author meant to say. The ancients said many things that I don’t like. God is represented as saying things that I don’t like in scripture. My dislike of the statement doesn’t alter the intent of that statement.

    When we phrase the problem in that way we open things up for non-Christians to point out that we are simply taking what we like from scripture, for more conservative Christians to suggest that we are discarding passages at will, and for those more liberal to suggest that we haven’t moved far enough.

    The inverse is also possible–when one presents a problem of interpretation which involves an apparent contention of two views in scripture, it is quite easy for one’s opponent to represent this as a problem of trying to discard something one doesn’t like.

    But my major problem with predestination is not that I don’t like it. I admit I don’t, but I also don’t like the command to “take up my cross” and I think that one is absolutely valid and binding! My problem is that I think the doctrine of predestination, as stated in the Westminster Confessions, misrepresents God, who God claims God is.

    So please do go on proclaiming the sovereignty of God. Make God-centered worship services. If you’re an Arminian who has somehow become pastor to a church of Calvinists, do the same. Make your worship services God-centered.

    I am reminded of a friend who was discussing creation and evolution with me who proposed the same type of question. “How can this be reconciled with the Biblical picture of a loving God?” he asked me. Well, that is a difficulty, but it is not a difficulty that will alter the facts on the ground. When you get right down to it, things like the flood and hell fire provide at least as much reason to question one’s picture of God. And evolution occurred (or not) whether I believe it, like it, ignore it, or abhor it.

    Even the Wesleyan-Arminian view of choice leaves many wondering. How can a choice, even by a prevenient-grace-enabled, yet finite human, settle an eternal destiny? Is it fair for God to allow such an uninformed choice to result in eternal consequences? Under this view, were the sinner permitted to look into the pits of hell when making the decision, would it be the same? Of course the word “fair” here begs for definition, but I’m using it because I’m intentionally framing this in a form based on human feeling. The Bible proclaims that God is just, which may not seem fair!

    No, it’s not a question of just how sovereign God is. It’s a question of what we believe God actually has done. I think the evidence, both scriptural and historical, indicates God has, in his sovereign will, left a great deal more to humanity than we would like. But whether we like it or not, God, by definition, gets to make the ultimate choices.

  • The Ministry of Complaining

    I once preached a sermon by that title, and my main point was simply that complaining can be a valuable activity. We need people who notice things that are wrong and are willing to point them out. We need critics. I was reminded of that sermon today when I read the post Clergy Haters from Adventures in Revland.

    There are indeed people who are just going to complain. If you’re a pastor, and new members show up tearing down their previous pastor, beware! In some cases they may have an honest complaint and you may do better. But more often than not, the complainer is going to keep on complaining, only now it will be about you.

    I recall coding a small program together with one of the toughest critics I have ever known. We were doing some simulation. I would propose an algorithm, and he would shoot it down. I’d modify it and he’d explain why it just wouldn’t work. From time to time he had suggestions, but he was rarely satisfied even with his own suggestions. I would finally propose something that was close enough, based on both our input, and once he was that close he would polish it off. I must note that he was the better programmer of the two of us. His criticism, however, was one of two most critical elements for the project.

    But complaining is rarely a ministry. Some might even complain (!) about my use of the word “complain” in this context. But I rather like the effect, so words are just going to have to mean what I want them to, nothing more, nothing less, for the duration of this post! Why is it that pointing out faults and failings is viewed so negatively?

    When I have a manuscript to edit and proofread, I will pay people to read and mark the errors in the manuscript. They’re really useful people: proofreaders. What they do is point out faults and failings, much like complainers do.

    So what’s the difference between those folks and the ones you don’t really want in your church or business?

    When I was younger, I was always told that there was a difference between constructive criticism and destructive criticism. Constructive criticism, I was told, involves having a solution to suggest to the problem, and not just pointing it out and leaving it at that.

    I’ve had a problem with that for years. I can call the power company and point out that the electricity is off without having any idea what to do about it. As an editor, I can point out a section in a manuscript that is unclear, without necessarily giving the proper wording. In fact, in practice how I approach that depends on the particular author. For one person I might rewrite the passage and let them accept or reject it. For another I might just say, “This is unclear. You might want to work on it a bit.” It just depends on what gets creative juices flowing.

    [For those who are wondering, I have neither proofreaders nor editors for this blog. All unclear passages are the product of my own arguably slightly deranged mind.]

    But I’ve found something better to distinguish complaining as a vice and complaining as a ministry: The person(s) to whom you present your complaint.

    In my sermon I held up the “blue book” which was our church directory. I opened it to the section that listed the committee chairs and members. I pointed out that there were people who were charged with the various ministries and activities of the church. “To make your complaints into a ministry,” I told the congregation, “you first have to take them to the right people.”

    You see, I had a great example handy. I had been leading a Bible study group. The chair of the Staff-Parish Relations committee attended because she was interested in joining. (For my non-Methodist readers, replace “Staff-Parish Relations Committee” with whatever group of people deals with the staffing of your church and interfaces between the paid staff and the members.) A massive complaint session broke out in the study group. I can’t even remember what brought it on, but it was something in the passage we were studying that the group members felt applied to their church. They were pretty negative.

    After a bit I pointed out that we had the SPR chair in the room, and perhaps they should address their comments to her. Now in case you’re thinking that the complaint session broke out because she was there, it turned out that nobody else knew she was the SPR chair. I will provide the excuse that she had only been in that position for a couple of months, but still…

    She immediately said that if they had suggestions or complaints that she would be willing to write them down and deal with them. She already had a pen and paper out and was ready to write. But she pointed out that they had yet to provide her with anything specific that she could actually address. She asked for the specifics or offered to meet with anyone who needed to present something in a private setting.

    Silence descended on the room. So far as I know, no appointments resulted from the meeting. You see, those folks wanted to complain, but they were much less anxious to sit down with someone who was ready to hear them and ready to take action. One problem was that they weren’t very clear on what was bothering them. But I think there was also the simple fact that it’s easy to complain in general to people in general, but when you start complaining to the person with the power, you’re putting yourself on the line.

    I don’t want to downplay the usefulness of combining your complaint with positive comments on things that deserve them and with suggested solutions. But you should also be ready to have your suggestions set aside for ideas brought by others.

    I must tell one other story here about taking suggestions and complains. I once discussed the worship service at my church with my pastor over lunch. We were discussing how to improve a particular service, and grabbing a convenient napkin and pen I outlined five ideas I had. There were things I didn’t like about the service and these were ideas to improve it.

    The pastor implemented changes, five for five. Each change was recognizably related to one of my suggestions, but each had been modified and, I must say, substantially improved. They fit better into the worship setting and connected with the members better than what I had suggested. Basically, that pastor took seed from what I said and grew something much better. The congregation started thanking the pastor for the improved service.

    What did he do then? He gave me credit for the whole thing! If you’re a pastor or a leader and you want to improve the “ministry of complaint” in your church, organization, or business, try that approach.

    Turning complaint into a ministry requires courage. One of the things my wife and I determined shortly after we got married was that we weren’t going to answer for each other when we write, speak, or teach. You many wonder why not. Do we not support one another in our respective ministries and calling? Indeed we do! Are we embarrassed by what one or the other teaches? Well, occasionally, but that’s usually because we’re telling stories on one another. More than one weekend seminar at which we both spoke has been generously seasoned with stories of our courtship!

    But we discovered quite early that in places where people wanted to complain, certain folks would come to me to discuss what Jody had to say. It sometimes happened the other way, but it may be a comment on church culture that it was more likely someone was coming to me. In general, it wasn’t clarification they wanted. The undertone was that I needed to straighten my wife out on some point.

    I should note here that one doesn’t straighten my wife out. She’s actually quite teachable, but you better line your ducks up in a row and get them quacking in unison. Then she’ll straighten herself out once she’s fully convinced. But at the same time each of us is quite capable of responding to questions put directly to us. As soon as I perceived that there were people who thought they could tell me that my wife was wrong and that I’d somehow go and take their complaint to her, I made it my policy to simply say, “If you have a question about what Jody said (or wrote) go ask her.” Nobody who first came to me ever has gone on to take their question to her.

    We were having a discussion about that the other night and it brought me to this point of courage. Can you take your complaint to the actual person you want to complain about? Can you explain it to them? Sometimes there are privacy issues. Sometimes there are issues of retaliation. But most of the time, especially when the complaint is about a pastor, I think there are simply courage issues. The complainer wants to get someone else to do the hard work of telling the pastor he’s wrong about something, not to mention avoiding the embarrassment of finding out it wasn’t the pastor who was wrong, but rather the complainer.

    To be a ministry, your complaint needs to be honest, it needs to be brought to the right person, and you need to bring it with the right attitude. It’s a shock, but the complainer could, in fact, be wrong. At the same time, an honest complaint needs to be heard and dealt with. A little bit of courage to face the person against whom one has a complaint will go a long way in improving your own success, and that of your organization.

  • Leviticus 4:1-5:13

    It is not entirely helpful to include these two sections under the same heading, but there is certainly a break between 5:13 and 5:14, so the division is understandable as Baker does it.

    We’re moving here to sacrifices that are required, first for inadvertent acts in chapter 4, and then for acts of omission that result in prolonged impurity (Milgrom: 307ff), only some of which are inadvertent in chapter 5.  Milgrom maintains, I think convincingly, that the distinction in chapter 5 is that the acts in question result in prolonged impurity, and prolonged impurity gets worse.

    Baker does well in presenting the major lesson I think we can take from these chapters, that wrongs are not just a personal thing, but they have a lasting impact on others.  We have a tendency to think that if something was a mistake there is no real guilt attached.  “I goofed,” is supposed to forgive all.  Here errors, most notably amongst the leadership, even if inadvertent, are highlighted as damaging the entire congregation and particular as polluting the sanctuary, and thus the congregation’s relationship with God.

    There is a secondary point, in that chapter 5 provides gradated levels of offerings and includes one even the poorest could bring–a grain offering.  I think this should be discussed in terms of atonement, in which we regularly quote Hebrews 9:22, which in turn quotes Leviticus 17:11.  Perhaps while blood provides the strongest metaphor for atonement, it is not the absolute requirement that some make it.  An exception to the blood sacrifice as in Leviticus 5:11-13, would not in that case be a minor point.  I’ll discuss this further when we get to Leviticus 17:11.

    The OSB emphasizes the difference between the sins of the priesthood and the laity, and quotes St. John Chrysostom thus:

    Wishing to show that sins receive more serious punishment by far when they occur in the case of the priest than in the case of the laity, Moses enjoins as great a sacrifice to be offered for the priest as for the whole people, and this amounts to a proof on his part, that the wounds of the priesthood need more assistance, that is, as great as those of all the people together.”

    OSB further applies this to the modern priesthood as well.  I could wish they would both quote the fathers more and would indicate the particular work.  In this case I have been unable to find the reference by search at CCEL–I’m probably doing something wrong.

    Again, I commend Baker for providing the elements that a preacher would need quickly and with the minimum of fuss.  You will frequently find you want to know more, but there are other reference works for that purpose.

    Abbreviations:

    OSB – Orthodox Study Bible

    NISB – New Interpreter’s Study Bible

    Milgrom – Milgrom, Jacob.  Anchor Bible:  Leviticus 1-16.

    Baker – Leviticus portion written by David H. Baker, of the Cornerstone Biblical Commentary on Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy.