He recorded his statement before he knew who won so he wouldn’t be biased. It’s a good statement. About a minute and a half in, there’s this:
Regardless of whether our president is Barack Obama or Mitt Romney, the mission of our fellowship is the same.
Just so!
… from my friend and Energion author Greg May. Copies of Greg’s new book, Crewed Awakening, are enroute from the printer. You can’t get “hotter off the press” than that!
I already mentioned that I’m in the final stages of publishing a new book Eschatology: A Participatory Study Guide by Edward W. H. Vick. One of the things that Dr. Vick emphasizes is the abuse of the word “soon” in Christian teaching and preaching. There is a problem with definitions if you repeatedly claim that something is soon and then it doesn’t happen. On the one hand, if you define “soon” so that it has meaning, you have the problem of the prediction failing. On the other, if you keep “soon” vague enough to protect yourself from the failure charge, you generally make it meaningless, “nonsense” in the technical sense, as in lacking any meaningful sense. Dr. Vick even wrote a book on precisely that topic, The Adventists’ Dilemma.
I must confess that I suggested reducing the time spent discussing the way the word “soon” has been used in the church. It’s interesting, but just how central is it to most Christians’ thinking? Well, I don’t know about most Christians, but abuse of the word “soon” or any of its related topics, such as “knowing the times” and so forth, is rampant. We’ve just gotten over the prediction of the second coming in 2011, and now we have another one (HT: Dispatches).
Dr. F. Kenton Beshore, of World Bible Society, doesn’t claim a specific date, but provides a range of years over which the rapture and then the second coming should be expected. (I use the title “Dr.” out of courtesy, though the bio on the World Bible Society website does not specify where any of them were earned, usually a bad sign. In addition, a couple of the degrees are normally honorary.) His claim is that the rapture should occur between now and 2021 and then the second coming seven years after that. Those who are acquainted with popular literature on Revelation will doubtless note that Beshore is pre-trib based on these numbers.
The reasoning behind this position, such as it is, is similar to Hal Lindsey’s belief that Jesus will return before the end of the generation that saw Israel reestablished as a nation in the promised land.
It would be hard for me to comment in detail, except to note that the entire rapture, seven-year tribulation, and second coming scheme is produced through a hodge-podge of proof-texting. It’s not even as convincing as your average proof-text usage. The relationship between the various passages involved is more than doubtful. I believe it is popular, and seems plausible to many, for the same reason that action movies are popular. They’re exciting and satisfying, with plenty of action and suspense followed by a comforting resolution. The major argument in favor of a pre-tribulation rapture is similar. It’s comforting to think that before all the bad things happen, God’s people (in which group readers confidently place themselves) are removed from the scene.
Reality, however, even the reality of life with God, is not as satisfying to our selfish desires as an action movie. God’s people have been left to live through times of trouble many times. They are never alone, thank God, but they are often in difficulty.
One can get great comfort from a prediction of the end. It gives one such a sense of control, and such a fine feeling of safety. Bad things will happen to others, but not to the believer. Uncertainty is for others. The believer knows.
But over and over such “knowing” has proven to be false. There’s no more reason to believe this result than any of the preceding ones.
The word “soon” (or various ways of saying something similar) is being abused again.
Adrian Warnock recently wrote a post on defining what is a Christian. I commented on that post, and largely had no problem with it. I’m looking forward to Adrian’s definition of an evangelical. Now Dave Warnock (no relation that I know of) has written a post critical of Adrian’s effort. Since I usually agree with Dave as opposed to Adrian (I’m a regular reader of both blogs), I paid close attention to Dave’s thoughts.
I may be wrong, but I originally read Adrian’s post from the point of view of making a personal decision. For example, when I say that I’m looking for a Christian church in my neighborhood, what do I mean? Does that include Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormons, Seventh-day Adventists, Oneness Pentecostals? If I’m referring someone to a church for fellowship, what exactly do I mean? That personal definition is, for me, not the same as a theological definition, nor is it equivalent to saying who is saved or not (which I leave entirely to God), nor is it saying which congregation contains the better people. It’s a definition of common ground for the purpose of fellowship as a community of faith. For that, when I look for a church to join, it would be limited to those who can say the Apostles’ Creed without crossing their fingers. I know that sounds rather flip, and my theologian friends won’t like it that much, but it’s a pretty accurate description of what goes on in my mind.
I want to emphasize that I do not regard this as a condemnation of all those churches that might not fit the definition. I’m not going to join them, but that’s my decision based on the nature of my faith. I can handle lots of variation within that broader context.
In dialogue, I use a broader definition, one that also doesn’t precisely match the theological definitions Dave quotes. I simply accept as Christian everyone who claims the name “Christian.” I might not be able to handle the theology of their church community as a member, but I accept that it is not my place to decide what they are. They have to accept or reject the labels. That’s a completely different context from the first. I will (and have) explain those two viewpoints in such a dialogue, as well.
I may have misconstrued Adrian’s intent. I intended to answer the question of just what it meant to me to label myself Christian. That’s the first context. That’s how I answered the question. So having worked it through a couple of paragraphs, I’m sticking with my original response.
The third sense, a definition of Christian used in theology (a necessary effort, for example, when doing theology, is obviously a necessary activity if one is to discuss theology. But that is where I point out that I’m not a theologian in the professional sense of the word.
October 22 probably doesn’t mean much to most of my readers, but for someone who grew up as a Seventh-day Adventist (SDA), it has great significance. It was on October 22, 1844 that early Adventists (before they were Seventh-day Adventists) expected Jesus to return. It was actually the second time they had expected that. first came what is known as the “lesser disappointment” of 1843, when they had not set a specific date, but had set a deadline of a season. Of course, the day ended, and nothing happened.
But as often happens with failed prophecies, after thought, consideration, and some manipulation of Bible texts, the Adventists decided that something had happened, it just wasn’t something visible here on earth. Adventists made a firm decision to set no more dates for the actual Second Coming, but they continued to preach that Jesus was coming “soon.”
In an overall doctrinal sense, this is no longer the sort of thing I consider central. But it did play a pivotal role in my decision to leave the SDA church. First was my reading of Daniel. I studied Daniel at Andrews (the SDA Theological Seminary) under a professor who strongly supported the traditional SDA understanding of the passage. People often think those who change their beliefs in college or seminary do so because liberal or unbelieving professors brainwash them. My professor made every effort to convince me that the SDA interpretation of Daniel 8:14 (the famed 2300 day prophecy) made sense. But in the context of Daniel it did not make sense to me.
Having decided that the time prophecy element was completely unfounded I turned to Hebrews and eventually decided that the very concept of an investigative judgment was also not good theology. Having spent a considerable time outside the Christian community, it was this second element that made it relatively certain that I would not return to an SDA community. People expect the seventh day sabbath to be the problem, but while I don’t agree with much of the supporting doctrine (the idea that it is the distinctive characteristic of the remnant, for example), I wouldn’t have a problem making the seventh day a sabbath. (That isn’t at all what SDAs mean by this, of course.)
What’s interesting right now is that I have just completed proofs for a new book, Eschatology: A Participatory Study Guide, by Edward W. H. Vick, who would see similar problems with these various elements to the ones I do, but is a former professor at Andrews University. In addition, my company distributes his book The Adventist’s Dilemma, regarding the use of the word “soon” by Adventists. I had once thought these controversies were in my past. Now I’m editing and marketing books about them.
October 22 can cast a long shadow!
There’s something deeply troubling about the decision by the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association to remove Mormons from the list of cults on their web site.
My concern is not with failing to list any particular group as a cult. In fact, as commonly used in Christian apologetics, I don’t think the label or lists of groups to which it should be applied, is very helpful. My approach is to be positive. I believe in a set of doctrines that I could label broadly orthodox Christianity (note lower case ‘o’), i.e. I’m a trinitarian Christian and I can say the Apostles’ Creed without crossing my fingers. My understanding is that a Mormon could not. That doesn’t make Mormons bad people, and the label “cult” tends to suggest that. At the same time, I don’t think it’s bigoted to point out that my beliefs and those of Mormons are not compatible in the sense that we won’t be in fellowship at the same church.
If, at some point other than the election, the BGEA had removed the reference to Mormons as a cult in order to foster dialog, without otherwise modifying their doctrinal statement (i.e., one could easily read and see who believes what), I would have no objection. What troubles me is that this is done in the context of the election. That gives the feeling that this was done to accomplish a political goal.
That’s dangerous in at least two ways. First, if it was important to note those differences in a document on cults before, what changed? Politics. The desire to elect a particular candidate has changed the way Christian beliefs are proclaimed. The gospel has been subjected to a political agenda. Second, it implies that even if Mitt Romney agrees with a Christian voter on most issues, he really needs to be labeled a Christian before we can vote for him. There are many reasons one might dislike or oppose Romney. The fact that he holds different doctrinal beliefs than I do is not one of them.
Under the appropriate circumstances I could vote for a person who is Jewish, Muslim, Mormon, agnostic, atheist, or any of a number of other faiths. What are the “appropriate circumstances?” Agreement on a political agenda and the belief that the candidate has the integrity to carry out those goals.
It has been noted by many that we’re not voting for pastor-in-chief, and rightly so, though people seem less likely to apply that standard to the candidate they oppose. At the same time, we must not behave as though we’re electing a pastor-in-chief. And that means don’t subordinate the gospel and the mission of the church to the beliefs of our candidate or to a political agenda. To those in the church, no political agenda can be as important as the mission of the church.
(Also note comments on this topic by Arthur Sido.)
I’m going to do something I almost never do on any of my blogs—re-post. But first a few comments.
Hebrews 5:1-10 is the epistle lesson from this week’s lectionary. Hebrews has always held a special place in my heart (my study guide on it), because it is such beautiful prose bringing a very deep message. In addition, passages such as Hebrews 1:1-4 and 4:12-14 helped shape my views of scripture and my christology at the same time, and Hebrews 6 became a key passage at a pivotal point in my own experience. (This isn’t “book advertising” week, but I discuss that experience in my book Not Ashamed of the Gospel: Confessions of a Liberal Charismatic.)
But one of the most critical passages for me has been this one, which has helped in developing my understanding of prayer and its value and purpose in the life of a Christian disciple.
Since our son James died, Jody and I have found that the one thing most people want to hear about when we speak or teach is just how one lives through such a thing. How do you deal with the grief? How do you deal with the questions? Why would God let your child die while you were busy teaching about prayer?
On this especially I must let Jody answer for herself. Each person’s walk with God in such a situation is individual. In many ways my answer is much like that in another of this week’s lectionary passages, Job 38. I don’t know why, but I know God. But then I also realize that I don’t even know God all that well, but I can still strive to know what surpasses knowledge and in that active relationship, I can withstand even the whirlwind.
So herewith the re-posted post from May 3, 2007:
7Who, in the days of his flesh, offered entreaties and petitions to the one who was able to save him from death with loud cries and tears, and he was heard because of his piety. 8Even though he was a son, he learned obedience from the things he suffered, 9and being made whole he became a means of eternal salvation to all those who obey him, 10since he was designated by God as a priest according to the priestly order of Melchizedek. — Hebrews 5:7-10
I’m writing this on the national day of prayer. A “national” day of prayer makes me wonder just what we’re praying for and how. But it reminded me of a question I hear frequently: “Why should anyone pray if they’re not going to get what they pray for?” That question starts with a false premise. It assumes that you won’t. But since I believe that quite often you will not get what you pray for, I should give it consideration.
In Hebrews 5:7-10, we have the statement that Jesus prayed. He prayed to “the one who was able to save him from death.” I presume such a prayer might have, and did, occur many times during his ministry, but likely this reference is primarily to his prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. “Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me.” He also placed that prayer under subjection to God’s will. Now if the text stopped in the middle of verse seven, we might imagine that the prayer of Jesus was not heard because he didn’t get what he was asking for.
But the text explicitly says that Jesus was heard. And there is what’s hard for us to get hold of. Praying is not about getting stuff. Praying is about our communion with God. That’s why all these scientific tests about prayer and healing largely miss the mark. They’re interesting, but the can’t test prayer because prayer is not a means of getting things.
What if the prayer of Jesus was counted in a scientific test? It would certainly go into the “failed” column. He didn’t get what he asked for. And yet he was heard, and what actually happened was better–in the end–than what he had requested. It happens that way because there’s a lot more knowledge on God’s end of the prayer than on mine.
So a national day of prayer invites me to commune with God, and that is the only purpose I have to have. If I have communed with God, my prayer worked. The amazing thing is that I often would rather have God do it my way. I’m in touch with infinite power and infinite knowledge, but what I ask is that God use his infinite power to make things work the way I–oh so incredibly finite–want them to.
One of the most blessed characteristics of this universe is that God doesn’t always answer our prayers in the way that we would prefer.
Jesus was the great example of this. One thing was refused him–escape from the cross. Through that one refusal, a refusal he invited by saying “not my will but yours,” our salvation was secured.
Aren’t you thankful that God doesn’t do things your way?
Tim Bulkeley is trying to generate some discussion of his book Not Only a Father. I’m a little late to the game, as many other bloggers have already linked, but I’ve been busy trying to shepherd six books through the release process. But though late, here I am.
There are two things that excite me about this book. The first is technical. Tim is presenting the book online with the option to enter comments and create discussion. I plan to do so as I manage to read the book. I encourage you to go and do likewise!
The second thing that excites me is the topic. I have a little history with this topic, ever since a doctor of my acquaintance said in a sermon that God actually had the various human organs. By virtue of that point, she believed that God must actually be male. This is, of course, an extreme view.
Very recently, however, I heard a new associate minister in a church use “father-mother God” in prayer, and there was an audible gasp in the congregation. Similarly I was strongly questioned over using “like a hen gathers her chicks” in a communion liturgy. The fact that the phrase comes from Scripture had no impact.
So I’m looking forward to continuing to read and interact with this book.
If you let your eyes wander up to the header you’ll see that my tag line includes the word “liberal” and not in a negative light. I’ve even written about being a liberal charismatic believer. So if you’re wondering how I can use both labels at once, follow the link. But in certain circles, “liberals” make good enemies, you know, the kind of enemies that you know will help make other people your friends—the enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?
And so Adrian Warnock points to a post by Micah Fries, titled simply Fighting with Scripture. In this post he speaks of the joys of being Southern Baptism following the conservative resurgence, and how nice it is to know that those around him embrace infallibility and inerrancy. In this portion of the universe, the old enemy, liberalism” has been laid to rest and it is easy to ridicule, at least in these sanitized domains. Now my point here is not to beat up on Southern Baptists. I do not consider those who believe in biblical inerrancy to be either worse Christians or scholars than those who do not. In fact, I hope that more moderate and liberal theologians will read and engage with conservative scholarship. I do like to make the point that those of us who see biblical inspiration differently are not the enemies, and may have something to contribute as well.
Just a couple of lines from the post:
Liberalism, of course, reduces God’s word, and in doing so attempts to make a mockery of those who would dare take that word at face value. It assumes a position of great authority, in fact it could be argued that it assumes a position of greater authority than scripture itself as it attempts to “rectify” the “errors” found in the bible.
When I see “of course” in a sentence like that I must confess that it gets under my skin a bit. You see, I don’t think I “reduce God’s word.” Rather, I attempt to understand God’s word as clearly as possible. I don’t “make a mockery of those who would dare take that word at face value,” in fact, I try to avoid mockery. (There are those who assume that disagreement, especially vigorous disagreement is mockery. I’ll just have to live with that.) But still, the issue here is not whether to take “God’s word” at face value. The question is just what that face value is.
Let’s illustrate this for a moment from Genesis, the great controversy these days. I’ve just edited, and my company has published, a book titled Creation in Scripture by Herold Weiss. It takes a look at the various ways in which creation is discussed in scripture. What it taught me as I edited it was how much more there was to the “face” of what the Bible has to say about creation than most people realize. There are major texts in scripture that are rarely part of this discussion. Many people who try to discuss creation see a “face” of God’s word that is like viewing a large mountain through the trees. You see a little bit of the mountain where light gets between all the trees. But the mountain is more than what you see in that way.
And how do I get the face value of scripture? Do I read Genesis 1 & 2 as a 21st century citizen of a scientific era? Do I try to get into the perspective of someone from the ancient world? The face looks considerably different depending on which of those perspectives I take.
My intent here is not to demonstrate what particular view is better, but rather to show that the simple statement that “liberalism reduces God’s word” is somewhere between inadequate and false. It’s inadequate in the sense that it doesn’t do justice to what moderate and liberal students of scripture do when studying. It’s false because very often the liberal interpreter is actually seeing more of the “face” from which the “value” is derived.
This reminds me of my discussions with KJV-Only advocates. They refer to any word or phrase that is present in the KJV but not in a modern version as something that has been removed from scripture. In vain does one point out that the best Greek manuscripts do not have the word or phrase in question, and that one might just as well say that the KJV added it to scripture. What are you taking as your standard? More importantly, how are you using and applying that standard?
In order to have valuable discussions of these points we need to state the questions a different way. Conservatives, moderates, and liberals understand scripture differently. We need to discuss passages on that basis, and examine our hermeneutic first. It’s often valuable to take a passage that is slightly less controversial and ask how we look at that passage. We may well continue to disagree (doubtless in many cases we will), but perhaps we would have a better understanding of why and how.
I share the concern of the authors I linked with reference to legalism, though I don’t think the accusation that it is “adding to scripture” is the best way to address it. I suspect legalism is more a matter of where we place things in our thinking and acting. Having just taught from Ephesians 2 and done preparation to teach from Ephesians 3, I see a fairly clear relationship between grace and action. It’s not that legalists do too much, though some do, it is that they place rules and their actions in the wrong place in their relationship to God. Grace, God’s grace, comes first.
In pursuing correct theology, I think we often fall into the same danger. We make theology our works and become legalistic in terms of what people should believe. But placing barriers of knowledge and belief ahead of grace is just as damaging as placing barriers of action. We can get into the position of earning God’s favor through getting things right just as easily as through doing things right, and often with even greater damage.
Legalism will not be defeated by making sure people’s theology of grace is thoroughly correct and orthodox. Legalism is defeated by grace in action. God’s grace, and yes, God’s grace displayed through God’s people.
