My wife Jody is again writing about the first century church. She wonders if we want to just visit it for one hour per week.
We have both previously written on this topic. To be honest, I don’t think that many people are really interested in a church like the first century church. I suspect it would be too demanding of our commitments, time, and resources. But isn’t that what God calls us to?
I grew up in a Christian group that did not follow the Christian liturgical calendar. There were many arguments presented for this, including the pagan backgrounds of some holidays. I’m not going to discuss that issue except to say that I care very little about the background of the day. What I care about is what we do with it now! I’m more concerned with the commercialism we’ve brought into Christmas since it became a Christian holiday than I am with any pagan backgrounds.
Another argument, however, was that we should be celebrating these things year round. We should always be celebrating the birth of Christ. We should always be celebrating the atonement and the resurrection.
That argument sounds pious and good at first glance, but it doesn’t match my experience. I do not detract from my celebration of all of God’s works year round by having a special commemoration at one time (or period) during the Christian year. Rather, I enhance that awareness by giving special time to meditation on one or another topic.
Since I became a member of a United Methodist congregation nearly 18 years ago, these seasons have become very important to me. So there will be special things I do during Lent (no, I’m not going to announce these on my blog), and there will be special things I do for Easter.
There is an additional reason I appreciate these seasons. I know I’m remembering these critical events in the history of my faith along with millions of other Christians at the same time. There’s a connection there, and I like to feel it.
So I have become very much attached to the seasons of the church year. This won’t prevent my enjoying a Christmas song during the summer, nor will it keep me from mentioning the cross in the fall. But it will bring these events back to my mind in a special way according to the church seasons.
Walter Brueggemann suggests how we might avoid getting tangled up on secondary issues:
(HT: Allan R. Bevere)
In a blog on the American Family Association web site, Bryan Fischer has named Jessica Ahlquist, the High School student in Rhode Island who was plaintiff in a case against a prayer banner in her school, to his “American Association of Religious Bigots.” In doing so he calls her a “little atheist bully” and a “small-minded and vengeful brat.”
One may, of course, disagree with Jessica Ahlquist. One may think such a banner harms no one. One might even think it’s helpful. But even so, does that justify those words about a teenager who acted in precisely the right manner if she felt her rights were violated? She went to court. She didn’t pull the banner down herself. She didn’t start a riot. She hasn’t been guilty of the kinds of nasty threats that so-called Christians have issued against her. (For a summary of more recent responses to the school board’s decision not to appeal the case, see Dispatches from the Culture Wars – Public Response to Decision Not to Appeal Prayer Case.)
If one believes what happened in Rhode Island is wrong, one has the recourse of the political system and the courts. That’s the proper forum. I happen to think having a proclamation of one religion in a public school is not a good idea and that Jessica Ahlquist was right to oppose it. But the important thing here is that the disrespect, vengefulness, and brattiness have all come, not from her, but from the other side.
Bryan Fischer’s column makes elementary school playground taunts look good by comparison. He should be ashamed of himself. The American Family Association should be ashamed of itself. This is not an example of family values.
(HT: The Agitator)
“So, in a spirit of Christian solidarity, I decided to help these churches expel young people once and for all.” This is too good! Read the rest.
I have previously written about the term “dominionism,” one which I don’t find very helpful as a label for a political position. So I was very interested to hear Dutch Sheets, one of those called (by some) a dominionist, make reference to the term.
I was invited as a Christian leader to hear Dutch Sheets speak at Kingsway Church in Pensacola, Florida (I was unable to locate a web page for Kingsway). I’m thankful for the invitation to this session for pastors and leaders. This post isn’t a critique of that talk, but rather deals with just a few moments of his presentation that relate to the term “dominionism” which has been very controversial. I will need to mention some of my own political views in delineating the various positions.
The bulk of the presentation dealt with the role of the church. Sheets is anxious (as I am) for us to get away from the idea that “church” is a building or a gathering at which we babysit the pew-sitters. That’s an incredible simplification of what he was saying, as he has some very specific points to make about just how we do it, but I think disagreements over details of strategy shouldn’t make us miss the main point.
He says that the church has elevated just one of the offices (or better, gifts), pastor, over all the others, and thus has gotten unbalanced. By nature, pastors nurture people. But a group that wants to get something done needs leaders who will also get people moving. Pastors may do that to some extent, but we’ve emphasized the care and nurture part.
He builds the way in which this happens around a broad scope of biblical history, starting with creation and the fall. Humanity is created and given dominion, then loses that dominion at the fall. Christ comes and restores what was lost. He takes the specific meaning of “legislative assembly” for the Greek word “ekklesia,” and uses it as an example of what the church is to do—act with authority. One might debate his extension of that particular meaning of the word to the New Testament, but nonetheless it gives the flavor of what he means by the church taking authority.
It was in this context that he brought up the term “dominionist.” He indicated that he didn’t like the label, but at the same time, he noted that if it’s defined as noted above—that humanity had dominion, lost it, that Christ came and restored it, and that the church carries on that mission—then in those terms he’s a dominionist.
I can see this term from a theological point of view. His view places a strong emphasis on the word “dominion.” You’ll hear him use that word much more than your average speaker. And if you make differences of emphasis central, then you could say his view is somewhat different from what is usually preached on this point. How frequently do you hear the word “dominion” in a discussion of the atonement? But as I mentioned earlier, I’m not writing to critique his presentation, but to clarify what he means.
What that dominionism, as he (reluctantly) accepted the term, means in politics became clear when he discussed specifically what it would mean for the church to be “ekklesia” as he defined it. In politics, he used the example of the young man who is interested in changing education. He said that as Christians we do not use force (he repeated this a number of times). What we want, he said, is for a young man to go out, get a PhD, become the superintendent of schools, and then we would be able to do things about prayer in schools. (Prayer was the specific example he used.)
Since it is currently quite legal for students to pray in school in the United States, despite some school boards’ overreactions, but not legal for school officials or teachers to lead or prescribe prayer, I’m going to assume that what Sheets wants here is for officially led or prescribed prayer. That would seem to be the one thing a school superintendent could work on regarding prayer in public schools. Of course, one would need to have lawyers educated and on the Supreme Court, legislators at various levels of government (a constitutional amendment might be required), and so forth.
This was the example Sheets used of the impact of the church acting as a legislative assembly (ekklesia as he defined it) for the world. So there is a particular political strategy that comes out of the church behaving as he is calling on it to do. Understand that the presentation was only about two hours, so he did not have time to flesh it out. I have used the most fleshed out example I heard.
So how much different is this from the basic idea that Christians should live their values in the public sphere? (I’m avoiding the “seven mountains” terminology, though that did come up.) I would simply note that there are a variety of views on how a Christian acts as part of one of the “kingdoms of this world” while being a citizen of the kingdom of heaven. For some, being part of the kingdom of heaven means no political participation at all. We witness for the kingdom of heaven, but we do not become part of the political structures. At the other extreme would be Christians who believe that we will successively take over the world’s governments until, by that means, the rule of Christ will extend to the entire world. In addition, there would be variations on just what methods are justified in pursuing those goals. Sheets specifically rejected the idea that Christians would take over the whole world; he said God would come in and finish it in a sweep.
I personally believe that Christians should participate in a secular, pluralistic society as moral and ethical people, but not in a way that would make the society less friendly to those of other beliefs. In fact, because of the freedom I believe God gives us, I think we should make society more friendly. If the Muslims in my community want to build a mosque, I’m there to back them up. At the same time, this means I disagree on the issue of prayer in public schools. My imaginary Christian young man would grow up, get a PhD, and be the person who makes life more comfortable for an atheist student, rather than the one who requires that the atheist student hear a prescribed prayer or do Bible study.
Sheets emphasized that he does not believe in force. I appreciate that. It distinguishes him from some extremists, and it’s a critical distinction. At the same time, my concern is that, as soon as we as Christians have the power of the state behind us, we are, by nature, employing force. I think Christian history suggests that when we bring the power of the state to bear in religious issues, the results are not good either for the church or the state. Sheets explicitly said “no separation of church and state,” though it’s important to note he said that from the church’s point of view, i.e. the church doesn’t separate itself from the state.
At this point I see “dominionism” as a possibly useful theological label. I’m still not convinced it’s useful as a political label, and hearing Sheets speak only further convinced me of this. His position on political issues, and on the church’s action in the political sphere, is essentially the dominant position of the Christian right. They wish to get elected and enact laws that favor Christianity in the public sphere. It’s no secret. I don’t see the need for a separate label. In Escambia County Florida, where I live, that’s pretty much the definition of a conservative Republican, with the note that there’s hardly any other kind of Republican around these parts.
Theologically, there is a greater difference, because Sheets has tied theology and the action of the church much more closely to this specific agenda. But it’s specifically of that usage that he acknowledged the term “dominionist” in the first place. And I want to note that I see his theology as a different emphasis on various elements of existing theology, and not something created out of whole cloth.
My concern is that the more detailed of a political strategy we pursue, the more opportunities we have for division over things that are not central. That could be further illustrated by how very American both Sheets’ presentation and my response are. How does this relate to various countries in Africa? What about to Christians living in the Muslim world? How does our tying Christianity to American political goals impact the gospel message worldwide?
I know there are dangers working from memory on hearing someone talk. As a writer and speaker myself, I generally prefer people to work from my written works, and I’d prefer my views to be taken from my books rather than my blog, if there’s a conflict. At the same time, what someone says in a more informal setting may well reflect one’s views more accurately.
So take this as my impressions. It didn’t really shift my view on the application of the term “dominionism.” It reinforced and clarified my existing position.
He continues the discussion with Kevin DeYoung. I’m glad to see this discussion continue.
A guest contributor to The Jesus Creed asks this question. He comes at it from the angle of just how far such a teaching would be from what is implied in the gospels, from which our definition of “Gospel” should come.
I’m not a cessationist, though I think it is important for people on the charismatic side of the spectrum to be careful in what they claim. The more false claims there are, the more likely people are to reject any and all claims. For me the most important reason to oppose cessationism is that I see no biblical warrant for suggesting that the Holy Spirit would cease to put these gifts in the church as long as there is a church.
In fact, I suspect the main reason we have for denying that the gifts can continue is that we are embarrassed, either because there are no gifts (and we feel there should be), or because there are gifts and related behavior that is embarrassing, such as false claims and sensationalism.
In the fifth comment on the Jesus Creed post, the commenter goes back to 1 Corinthians 13, and the “cease” language in that chapter. I’m not going to go into detail here, but I previously posted my notes on 1 Corinthians 12-14 (follow the links to the next post at the top right, and you can work your way through the whole series). I believe 1 Corinthians 12-14 must be seen as a unit within the larger context of 1 Corinthians, and in that context, I don’t think the expectation that the gifts would cease relates to any time while there’s still a church.
In fact, Paul is dealing here with some of the embarrassments I listed above. The Holy Spirit is active in the Corinthian church, but people are active as well, and people like exciting things. How do spiritual gifts fit in with being spiritual people? How do we relate as a body to spiritual things? Those are the questions Paul is answering.
But is cessationism another gospel? “Another gospel” is one of those epithets we use to attack those with whom we disagree strongly, ever since Paul used it in Galatians. It’s a way of setting a particular teaching outside the bounds of fellowship.
I disagree with cessationists, but I’ve met plenty of cessationists who believe in God’s present and active power, but who simply don’t believe that God works through giving gifts to individuals. For example, for them there is no active gift that would make a person a healer or miracle worker, but the church can get together and pray for someone and a miraculous healing is possible. I would note that I agree that gifts aren’t given to individuals as such, but rather to the church, but Paul clearly envisions individuals within the church exercising those gifts. So while the gift belongs to the body, the individual is the steward.
Thus I disagree with cessationists, but I don’t see where they would merit the title of teaching “another gospel.” In fact, suggesting that if one’s beliefs do not reflect the whole Gospel as taught in the four gospels one is teaching another gospel, means that we would be deciding fellowship based on our understanding of everything in the four gospels, which would surely mean that just about every doctrine would become an essential determiner of fellowship.
Any time we’re off track on one of these doctrines there is obvious danger. But I’m pretty sure all of us are in error on something, possibly many things, and somehow the church struggles on. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to correct bad doctrine. It just suggests we should do so as graciously as possible and avoid anathematizing phrases.
