Discerning what is central
17/06/08 13:59 Filed in: Thinking Thoughts
One of the effects of getting older (and like the much-appreciated John Piper I am not ashamed of, or complaining about that!) is that one tends to find the 'big issues' of earlier years fading. Don't worry too much, I am not about to declare myself Catholic or Orthodox, or whatever is the latest trendy exit point for evangelicals. And for further reassurance, the Lord Jesus Christ becomes more central to me as time goes by, as does the gospel, as does the precious work of men like Calvin, Owen and Edwards in that I see in their work more and more of the Lord Jesus Christ. But some issues do fade, and I think they should. For example, for much of my Christian life I have been a firm Baptist, but latterly I have been convicted that I have not given enough respect and consideration to my Reformed friends who take a paedo-baptist view. I remember the excellent Ian Hamilton (Cambridge (UK) Presbyterian Church) pointing out to me that something like 95% of published Reformed theology is in fact paedo-baptist in origin. (I have forgotten the actual figure he quoted - it may well have been more).
I suspect that in my earlier years I would defend any corner that was a minority, just for the sake of it. Maturer reflection has allowed me to savour the riches of a more rounded and covenantal view of theology that has taken me to the point where I am quite willing to admit that I would baptise the baby of truly committed believing parents who held to a proper covenant view of that act.
That does not mean I do not regard myself as baptistic any longer, or that I would not baptise an adult believer. It means exactly what I said; the rough edges having been knocked off my thinking, I think more of my brothers in Christ who have so courteously disagreed with me for so long, and I think enough of them to have seriously considered their position and find myself unable to wholly reject what they are saying. Of course, I am very wary of the abuse of the paedo-baptist position, but then so is a paedo-baptist like Ian Hamilton, who has in the past put up with TV cameras and all the negative media publicity that goes with them rather than sacrifice his profoundly Christ-centred, serious and well thought-out theology of the place of children in the covenant.
The issue of baptism is not the only one on which I have found myself moved to modify my views. There are other things that I now realise are not so central as I had fondly imagined. And all this was confirmed all the more after I began to write this piece. I read another chapter of Sinclair Ferguson's excellent book, 'In Christ Alone.' If you have the book, take a look at the chapter titled 'Discernment: Thinking God's Thoughts.' If you don't have the book, buy it! Then this morning I read another prayer from 'The Valley of Vision,' part of which said:
May my cry be always, Only Jesus! only Jesus!
In him is freedom from condemnation,
fullness in his righteousness,
eternal vitality in his given life,
indissoluble union in fellowship with him;
In him I have all that I can hold . . . .
That is where I want to be, in my thinking and in my practice; Christ crucified and Christ glorified, to be able to say 'in him I have all that I can hold,' to consider that the lesser issues are really not worthy of pursuing if they detract from him and put me at odds with my brothers in the Lord.
I have not attained all this, of course. I am sharing my aspirations and my weak, trembling steps along a road I pray you will tread far more readily than I have. Nor is this an excuse for a kind of theological woolliness, although I know some will inevitably think so! I am going to make this post longer still by copying a piece by Ray Ortlund that I completely agree with. Please note that - completely agree with! That means the opening of the first paragraph as well, where Mr Ortlund affirms his own Reformed position. If the first two sentences were a signable document, I would sign. Beef it up by adding one of the historical Reformed confessions, and I would still sign! Please read on, it's well worth it.
(The title is a clickable link back to Ray Ortlund's blog)
Truly reformed
I believe in the sovereignty of God, the Five Points of Calvinism, the Solas of the Reformation, I believe that grace precedes faith in regeneration. Theologically, I am Reformed. Sociologically, I am simply a Christian – or at least I want to be. The tricky thing about our hearts is that they can turn even a good thing into an engine of oppression. It happens when our theological distinctives make us aloof from other Christians. That’s when, functionally, we relocate ourselves outside the gospel and inside Galatianism.
The Judaizers in Galatia did not see their distinctive – the rite of circumcision – as problematic. They could claim biblical authority for it in Genesis 17 and the Abrahamic covenant. But their distinctive functioned as an addition to the all-sufficiency of Jesus himself. Today the flash point is not circumcision. It can be Reformed theology. But no matter how well argued our position is biblically, if it functions in our hearts as an addition to Jesus, it ends up as a form of legalistic divisiveness.
Paul answered the theological aspects of the Galatian error with solid theology. But the “whiff test” that something was wrong in those Galatian churches was more subtle than theology alone. The problem was also sociological. “They make much of you, but for no good purpose. They want to shut you out, that you may make much of them” (Galatians 4:17). In other words, “The legalists want to ‘disciple’ you. But really, they’re manipulating you. By emphasizing their distinctive, they want you to feel excluded so that you will conform to them.” It’s like chapter two of Tom Sawyer. Remember how Tom got the other boys to whitewash the fence for him? Mark Twain explained: “In order to make a man or boy covet a thing, it is only necessary to make the thing difficult to attain.” Paul saw it happening in Galatia. But the gospel makes full inclusion in the church easy to attain. It re-sets everyone’s status in terms of God’s grace alone. God’s grace in Christ crucified, and nothing more. He alone makes us kosher. He himself.
The Judaizers would probably have answered at this point, “We love Jesus too. But how can you be a first-rate believer, really set apart to God, without circumcision, so plainly commanded right here in the Bible? This isn’t an add-on. It’s the full-meal deal. God says so.”
Their misuse of the Bible showed up in social dysfunction. “It is those who want to make a good showing in the flesh who would force you to be circumcised. . . . They desire to have you circumcised that they may boast in your flesh” (Galatians 6:12-13). In other words, “When Christians, whatever the label or badge or shibboleth, start pressuring you to come into line with their distinctive, you know something’s wrong. They want to enhance their own significance by your conformity to them: ‘See? We’re better. We’re superior. People are moving our way. They are becoming like us. We’re the buzz.’” What is this, but deep emotional emptiness medicating itself by relational manipulation? This is not about Christ. This is about Self. Even Peter fell into this hypocrisy (Galatians 2:11-14). But no matter who is involved, this is not the ministry of the gospel. Even if a biblical argument can be made for a certain position, and we all want to be biblical, the proof of what’s really happening is not in the theological argumentation but in the sociological integration.
Paul had thought it through. He made a decision that the bedrock of his emotional okayness would forever lie here: “Far be it from me to boast [establish my personal significance] except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. . . . For neither circumcision counts for anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation” (Galatians 6:14-15). In other words, “Here is all I need for my deepest sense of myself: Jesus Christ crucified. His cross has deconstructed me and remade me, and I am happy. Everything else is at best secondary, possibly irrelevant, even counterproductive. Let Jesus alone stand forth in my theology, in my emotional well-being and in my relationships with other Christians!” This settledness in Paul’s heart made him a life-giving man for other people. He was a free man, setting others free (Galatians 5:1). This is the acid test of a truly Reformed ministry – that other believers need not be Reformed in order to be respected and included in our hearts.
Whatever divides us emotionally from other Bible-believing, Christ-honoring Christians is a “plus” we’re adding to the gospel. It is the Galatian impulse of self-exaltation. It can even become a club with which we bash other Christians, at least in our thoughts, to punish, to exclude and to force into line with us.
What unifies the church is the gospel. What defines the gospel is the Bible. What interprets the Bible correctly is a hermeneutic centered on Jesus Christ crucified, the all-sufficient Savior of sinners, who gives himself away on terms of radical grace to all alike. What proves that that gospel hermeneutic has captured our hearts is that we are not looking down on other believers but lifting them up, not seeing ourselves as better but grateful for their contribution to the cause, not standing aloof but embracing them freely, not wishing they would become like us but serving them in love (Galatians 5:13).
My Reformed friend, can you move among other Christian groups and really enjoy them? Do you admire them? Even if you disagree with them in some ways, do you learn from them? What is the emotional tilt of your heart – toward them or away from them? If your Reformed theology has morphed functionally into Galatian sociology, the remedy is not to abandon your Reformed theology. The remedy is to take your Reformed theology to a deeper level. Let it reduce you to Jesus only. Let it humble you. Let this gracious doctrine make you a fun person to be around. The proof that we are Reformed will be all the wonderful Christians we discover around us who are not Reformed. Amazing people. Heroic people. Blood-bought people. People with whom we are eternally one – in Christ alone.
I suspect that in my earlier years I would defend any corner that was a minority, just for the sake of it. Maturer reflection has allowed me to savour the riches of a more rounded and covenantal view of theology that has taken me to the point where I am quite willing to admit that I would baptise the baby of truly committed believing parents who held to a proper covenant view of that act.
That does not mean I do not regard myself as baptistic any longer, or that I would not baptise an adult believer. It means exactly what I said; the rough edges having been knocked off my thinking, I think more of my brothers in Christ who have so courteously disagreed with me for so long, and I think enough of them to have seriously considered their position and find myself unable to wholly reject what they are saying. Of course, I am very wary of the abuse of the paedo-baptist position, but then so is a paedo-baptist like Ian Hamilton, who has in the past put up with TV cameras and all the negative media publicity that goes with them rather than sacrifice his profoundly Christ-centred, serious and well thought-out theology of the place of children in the covenant.
The issue of baptism is not the only one on which I have found myself moved to modify my views. There are other things that I now realise are not so central as I had fondly imagined. And all this was confirmed all the more after I began to write this piece. I read another chapter of Sinclair Ferguson's excellent book, 'In Christ Alone.' If you have the book, take a look at the chapter titled 'Discernment: Thinking God's Thoughts.' If you don't have the book, buy it! Then this morning I read another prayer from 'The Valley of Vision,' part of which said:
May my cry be always, Only Jesus! only Jesus!
In him is freedom from condemnation,
fullness in his righteousness,
eternal vitality in his given life,
indissoluble union in fellowship with him;
In him I have all that I can hold . . . .
That is where I want to be, in my thinking and in my practice; Christ crucified and Christ glorified, to be able to say 'in him I have all that I can hold,' to consider that the lesser issues are really not worthy of pursuing if they detract from him and put me at odds with my brothers in the Lord.
I have not attained all this, of course. I am sharing my aspirations and my weak, trembling steps along a road I pray you will tread far more readily than I have. Nor is this an excuse for a kind of theological woolliness, although I know some will inevitably think so! I am going to make this post longer still by copying a piece by Ray Ortlund that I completely agree with. Please note that - completely agree with! That means the opening of the first paragraph as well, where Mr Ortlund affirms his own Reformed position. If the first two sentences were a signable document, I would sign. Beef it up by adding one of the historical Reformed confessions, and I would still sign! Please read on, it's well worth it.
(The title is a clickable link back to Ray Ortlund's blog)
Truly reformed
I believe in the sovereignty of God, the Five Points of Calvinism, the Solas of the Reformation, I believe that grace precedes faith in regeneration. Theologically, I am Reformed. Sociologically, I am simply a Christian – or at least I want to be. The tricky thing about our hearts is that they can turn even a good thing into an engine of oppression. It happens when our theological distinctives make us aloof from other Christians. That’s when, functionally, we relocate ourselves outside the gospel and inside Galatianism.
The Judaizers in Galatia did not see their distinctive – the rite of circumcision – as problematic. They could claim biblical authority for it in Genesis 17 and the Abrahamic covenant. But their distinctive functioned as an addition to the all-sufficiency of Jesus himself. Today the flash point is not circumcision. It can be Reformed theology. But no matter how well argued our position is biblically, if it functions in our hearts as an addition to Jesus, it ends up as a form of legalistic divisiveness.
Paul answered the theological aspects of the Galatian error with solid theology. But the “whiff test” that something was wrong in those Galatian churches was more subtle than theology alone. The problem was also sociological. “They make much of you, but for no good purpose. They want to shut you out, that you may make much of them” (Galatians 4:17). In other words, “The legalists want to ‘disciple’ you. But really, they’re manipulating you. By emphasizing their distinctive, they want you to feel excluded so that you will conform to them.” It’s like chapter two of Tom Sawyer. Remember how Tom got the other boys to whitewash the fence for him? Mark Twain explained: “In order to make a man or boy covet a thing, it is only necessary to make the thing difficult to attain.” Paul saw it happening in Galatia. But the gospel makes full inclusion in the church easy to attain. It re-sets everyone’s status in terms of God’s grace alone. God’s grace in Christ crucified, and nothing more. He alone makes us kosher. He himself.
The Judaizers would probably have answered at this point, “We love Jesus too. But how can you be a first-rate believer, really set apart to God, without circumcision, so plainly commanded right here in the Bible? This isn’t an add-on. It’s the full-meal deal. God says so.”
Their misuse of the Bible showed up in social dysfunction. “It is those who want to make a good showing in the flesh who would force you to be circumcised. . . . They desire to have you circumcised that they may boast in your flesh” (Galatians 6:12-13). In other words, “When Christians, whatever the label or badge or shibboleth, start pressuring you to come into line with their distinctive, you know something’s wrong. They want to enhance their own significance by your conformity to them: ‘See? We’re better. We’re superior. People are moving our way. They are becoming like us. We’re the buzz.’” What is this, but deep emotional emptiness medicating itself by relational manipulation? This is not about Christ. This is about Self. Even Peter fell into this hypocrisy (Galatians 2:11-14). But no matter who is involved, this is not the ministry of the gospel. Even if a biblical argument can be made for a certain position, and we all want to be biblical, the proof of what’s really happening is not in the theological argumentation but in the sociological integration.
Paul had thought it through. He made a decision that the bedrock of his emotional okayness would forever lie here: “Far be it from me to boast [establish my personal significance] except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. . . . For neither circumcision counts for anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation” (Galatians 6:14-15). In other words, “Here is all I need for my deepest sense of myself: Jesus Christ crucified. His cross has deconstructed me and remade me, and I am happy. Everything else is at best secondary, possibly irrelevant, even counterproductive. Let Jesus alone stand forth in my theology, in my emotional well-being and in my relationships with other Christians!” This settledness in Paul’s heart made him a life-giving man for other people. He was a free man, setting others free (Galatians 5:1). This is the acid test of a truly Reformed ministry – that other believers need not be Reformed in order to be respected and included in our hearts.
Whatever divides us emotionally from other Bible-believing, Christ-honoring Christians is a “plus” we’re adding to the gospel. It is the Galatian impulse of self-exaltation. It can even become a club with which we bash other Christians, at least in our thoughts, to punish, to exclude and to force into line with us.
What unifies the church is the gospel. What defines the gospel is the Bible. What interprets the Bible correctly is a hermeneutic centered on Jesus Christ crucified, the all-sufficient Savior of sinners, who gives himself away on terms of radical grace to all alike. What proves that that gospel hermeneutic has captured our hearts is that we are not looking down on other believers but lifting them up, not seeing ourselves as better but grateful for their contribution to the cause, not standing aloof but embracing them freely, not wishing they would become like us but serving them in love (Galatians 5:13).
My Reformed friend, can you move among other Christian groups and really enjoy them? Do you admire them? Even if you disagree with them in some ways, do you learn from them? What is the emotional tilt of your heart – toward them or away from them? If your Reformed theology has morphed functionally into Galatian sociology, the remedy is not to abandon your Reformed theology. The remedy is to take your Reformed theology to a deeper level. Let it reduce you to Jesus only. Let it humble you. Let this gracious doctrine make you a fun person to be around. The proof that we are Reformed will be all the wonderful Christians we discover around us who are not Reformed. Amazing people. Heroic people. Blood-bought people. People with whom we are eternally one – in Christ alone.