Exegesis and Theology

The Blog of Brian Collins

Romans 16:7 and The Nature of Theology: Brief Notes on Some Recent Reading

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CPJ-11-FrontCover-forCBMcGraw, Ryan, trans. “Johannes Wollebius’s Paecognita of Christian Theology from Compendiusm Theologiae Christianae,” Confessional Presbyterian 11 (2015).

Excellent discussion of the definition and nature of theology along with a defense of canonical Scripture as the sufficient and final theological authority.

Burer, Michael. “ΈΠΙΣΗΜΟΙ ΈΝ ΤΟΙΣ ΆΠΟΣΤΟΛΟΙΣ in Rom 16:7 as ‘Well Known to the Apostles’: Further Defense and New Evidence,” JETS 58, no. 4 (December 2015): 731-55.

JETS_LogoThe thesis of Burer and Wallace in their NTS article is that one should take “ἐπίσημος genitive as inclusive (e.g., ‘notable among’)” and ἐπίσημος plus (ἐν plus) dative as exclusive (e.g., ‘well known to’).” (JETS 58, no. 4, p. 755). In his JETS article Burer responds to critiques of their thesis to show that it still holds and brings forth additional evidence from Greek literature to demonstrate that this pattern holds.

Review of Wellum and Gentry’s Kingdom Through Covenant

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Gentry, Peter J. and Stephen J. Wellum. Kingdom through Covenant: A Biblical-Theological Understanding of the Covenants. Crossway: 2012.

[Update 4/21/16: A friend passed this post along to one of the authors who responded to me, pointing out areas in which he thought the review was not entirely accurate. I appreciate his work in accurately portraying other theological views, so I am updating this review in light of his comments.]

Kingdom-Through-Covenant-Gentry-Wellum-In this volume Wellum and Gentry embark on the ambitious project of laying out a third way between covenant theology and dispensationalism. They label their position New Covenant Theology or Progressive Covenantalism (others who hold a similar position are Tom Wells, Fred Zaspel, John Reisinger, Thomas Schreiner, and Jason Meyer). [Update 4/21/16: The authors wish to distinguish PC from NCT. The two share some similarities, but they do not wish them to be equated. Since Schreiner and Meyer both contribute to the new book on Progressive Covenantalism, it seems safe to identify them with PC] Wellum and Gentry’s contribution is the arguement that covenant forms the “backbone” of Scripture’s storyline and that understanding how the covenants relate is key to right biblical and systematic theology. Of course many dispensationalists and covenant theologians could affirm these two points. The differences lie in how the covenants are seen to function and fit together.

Part One: Prolegomena

Covenants and Systems

Before outlining their view Wellum first outlines the positions of dispensationalism and covenant theology. Too often non-dispensationalist surveys of dispensationalists are incomplete and thus unfair. The worst surveys will take the Scofield Reference Bible as their main source without recognizing the development that his taken place since Scofield’s time or the variety of opinion within dispensational thought. Wellum does not fall into this error. His survey is one of the best surveys of dispensationalism by a non-dispensationalists that I’ve read (Vern Poythress’s work, Understanding Dispensationalists, would be the other good survey).

Interestingly, the survey of covenant theology was not quite as well done. Wellum did pick up on divergences between some covenant theologians about how the Mosaic Covenant relates to the covenant of works. However, he did not deal with the views of earlier Baptist covenant theologians. This is a significant oversight since at one point Wellum suggests the labeling his own position “Baptist theology” (25, n. 7) [Update 4/21/16: The author noted that this footnote was a bit of joke] and since he repeatedly argues that one of the major differences between progressive covenantalism and covenant theology is paedobaptism versus credobaptism.

I was also less than impressed with the parallels Wellum tried to draw between dispensationalism and covenant theology. He contends at the end of chapter 2 that covenant theologians adhere to a genealogical principle rooted in the Abrahamic covenant which leads them to assume that the infants of believers are part of the church. He then concludes, “Ironically, this is a similar hermeneutical argument that dispensational theology makes, yet in different areas. Dispensational thought makes it in regard to the land promise while covenant theology makes it in regard to the genealogical principle, both of which are tied to the Abrahamic covenant!” (76). [Update 4/21/16: I should add that the similarity argued here for between CT and DT is that neither allow circumcsion/land to be viewed as typological; it is argued that if circumcision/land is traced throughthe biblical covenants it becomes clear that they must be typological.] Though the claim of this parallel is repeatedly made, I’m not convinced the parallel exists. Covenant theology makes its case for infant baptism by plugging the Abrahamic covenant into an overarching covenant of grace, thereby failing to recognize the covenant shift that the new covenant brings about. Dispensational theology, on the other hand, is simply asserting that the promises of the Abrahamic covenant will be fulfilled as they were given. The new covenant does not abrogate these promises; indeed, it actually repeats them. The divergences between progressive covenantalism and dispensationalism actually lies in hermeneutics, to which Wellum turns in chapter 3.

Hermeneutics

In chapter 3 Wellum lays out the hermeneutical principles that underlie the system that he and Gentry are proposing. Many of these are to be heartily endorsed. Wellum begins by defending self-attesting canon and its claims to inerrancy, concluding from this that the diversity of Scripture does not undermine “an overall unity and coherence between the testaments.” Amen.

Second, Wellum affirms that we discern God’s intent in Scripture through the human authors of Scripture. He affirms that this leads to a canonical reading of Scripture that is open to a certain kind of sensus plenior. He rejects an approach to sensus plenior that asserts the “fuller sense” “cannot be discovered by grammatical-historical exegesis,” noting that that this leads to “a subjective reading of the text without hermeneutical controls.” Instead, he argues, “We discover God’s intent through the human authors of Scripture at the canonical level. God says more than the individual authors may have known, yet he does not contravene what the authors wrote and intended” (85, n. 11). I would assent to this, though I’m going to argue that Wellum and Gentry do not consistently adhere to this principle.

Third, Wellum says that Scripture is the inspired interpretation of God’s redemptive acts, meaning that the pattern “preparatory word, then the divine act, followed by the interpretive word” (88) is typical in Scripture revelation. The corollary to this is that revelation is progressive, which, in turn, means that theologians need to note where texts fall in redemptive history as they systematize.

These three principles lead Wellum to conclude that interpreters deal with three horizons: the (1) text in an (2) epochal context (cf. Rom. 5:12-21; Acts 7:1-53) and a (3) canonical context. Again, I would register no disagreement with Wellum here. However, the discussion of canonical context balloons into a discussion of typology, and here some differences emerge.

There is much to agree with in Wellum’s treatment of types (e.g., the exegetical rooting of types). But when he asserts that types always escalate when moving from the OT to the NT or that types are what establish the discontinuity between OT and NT, I have questions. [Update 4/21/16: Their argument is that escalation occurs because the types are fulfilled in Christ, who is greater than any of the anti-types.]

Do types-antitypes establish discontinuity between the testaments or does a change in covenant administration bring about the discontinuties. I would argue for the latter. True, there were typological aspects to earlier covenantal administrations (e.g., the sacrificial system), but the reason for the discontinuity is fundamentally due to the change in covenant. [Update 4/21/16: It is the change of covenants because the typology develops through the covenants.]

I also question the claim that types always escalate. It seems that included in this statement is the assumption that escalation involves displacement. Thus Wellum concludes that the specific promise of a land to the nation of Israel is displaced because the land of Israel is a type with the antitype being the new creation. I would certainly agree that with sometimes escalation involves displacement. The sacrificial system was typological of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, and the antitype displaced the type. But what of the Davidic kingship? Is that typical? If so, the escalation from type to antitype did not displace the Davidic kingship, for the Messiah reigns as the Davidic king. Perhaps it would be better to say that earlier Davidic kings were typical of the climatic Davidic King. The earlier kings are displaced, in a sense, but the David kingship is not.

So what of the land? One could say that the land is typical of the new creation, but is not the land part of the renovated earth? If so, it is hard to see how the antitype can displace the type (expansion, yes; elevation, yes; displacement no). Perhaps it would be better to speak of the land as conquered by Joshua or as reigned by Solomon as typical of the new creation. Again, just as historical kings are displaced by the final king, so the land in a historical period is displaced by the climatic historical period, but this is different from claiming that the promises regarding the land are displaced.

This discussion points to an odd formulation in this book. Wellum speaks of the land promise being typical. To claim that a promise is a type is an interesting claim, and one that is not defended. It also leads to complications. It puts Wellum in the odd position of saying the promise is a type for something other than what was promised such that the promise itself will never be fulfilled. What is more, this would seem to contravene the earlier affirmation that the fuller sense of Scripture “does not contravene what the authors wrote and intended,” though God may say “more than the individual authors may have known.” I would take that statement to mean that God can mean more than he promised to Abraham, but he can’t mean other. In other words, I have no argument with seeing the “Eden . . . presented as the archetype, which the ‘land’ later looks back to and forward to in anticipation of the recovery of the new creation” (124). To say the land promise expands to encompass the new creation is something that I think is at least hinted at in its original statements in Genesis. What I fail to see is how this expansion or escalation cancels out part of the promise.

Part Two: Exposition

Part two of Kingdom through Covenant is written by Peter Gentry. It is supposed to provide the exegetical basis for the theological conclusions. Gentry rarely, if ever, makes clear the connection between his exegesis and the broader project of the book. Gentry also seems given to rabbit trails. At points it seems that Gentry had a collection of exegetical studies that he wanted to share, and since some connection between those studies and the thesis of the book could be made, this was his opportunity to share them. Thus, as a reading strategy, I would recommend reading parts one and three first. Come back to part two in order to see how some of the claims in these other parts are sustained (or not) exegetically.

None of this is to deny that this section presents a great deal of helpful exegesis. Nonetheless, I do think that this section suffers from two methodological problems. First, Gentry’s method places too much weight on ANE background material (a point also noted by Brack and Oliphiint in their review of Kingdom through Covenant). In terms of methodology, I would argue that background material should play a similar role as the that given by the magisterial Reformers to tradition. The Reformers highly valued tradition but it served interpretation of Scripture rather than determined it. I would like to see interpreters value tradition, the history of interpretation (something that often seems lacking in those who emphasize ANE or Second Temple background), and background materials while keeping both servants of the text rather than masters. Second, as almost every other reviewer has noted, the exegetical section suffers from lack of interaction with the New Testament. A New Testament exegetical section is vital for the argument of this book. For Wellum and Gentry’s view of typology to be accepted, they need to demonstrate that the New Testament operates with their view. Without this argumentation, their approach to typology is asserted, not demonstrated. Though Gentry is not a New Testament scholar his section could without doubt have been tightened up to make room for the contribution of a New Testament scholar such as Thomas Schreiner. I hope this will happen if there is a second edition.

Two substantive issues should also be raised. First, while I agree with the argument for a creation covenant, and while I think the creation covenant and the Noahic covenant are related, I remain unconvinced that the Noahic covenant is simply a confirmation of the creation covenant. As I look at these covenants, the parties are different, the promises are different, the prohibitions are different, the sanctions are different, and the nature of the covenants are different. Though I think Gentry made the case that karat berit typically means to initiate a covenant and heqim berit typically means to confirm a covenant, it does seem to me that there are occasional exceptions (Gen. 6:18; Ex. 6:4; Eze.16:59-62). However, despite the great stress that Gentry placed on this point, I don’t see it as essential to their case. More significant, however, is their rejection of distinctions between unconditional and conditional covenants (or between royal grant and suzerainty covenants).  They argue that all the covenants demand obedience of the partners. I agree that all of the covenants have expectations placed on those within the covenant. The Noahic covenant, for instance, has expectations that God places on all mankind. But human violations of those expectations, even on a large scale, will never result in a second global flood. That would violate the nature of the covenant. On the other hand, Israel was told that their violation of the conditions of the Mosaic covenant would result in certain penalties. I think Gentry and Wellum have over-compensated on this point.

Part Three: Theological Integration

In part three Wellum deals with the biblical and systematic theological implications of their proposed system.

Biblical Theology

Chapter sixteen focuses on biblical theology. As one might expect from a book titled Kingdom through Covenant, kingdom and covenant are the two foci of this chapter. I agree with Wellum and Gentry that “kingdom through covenant” captures a central biblical motif, but I was disappointed with how these motifs were fleshed out.

Kingdom

Wellum states his understanding of the kingdom of God in five points. (1) As Creator God providentially rules over all creation. (2) After the Fall a distinction is made between God’s providential reign over all things and “his saving reign in the context of a rebellious creation to make all things right” (593). (3) The kingdom could have come through the covenants if those in the covenants lived according to them; their failure means that the kingdom will come through covenant promises. (4) The Davidic Messiah is the one who will inaugurate the new covenant, which will fulfill all of the other covenants. (5) In the New Testament, “the ‘kingdom of God’ refers primarily to God’s kingly and sovereign rule,’ especially as it relates to salvation. It does not primarily refer to a “geographical location” (595-96). This understanding leads to the following conclusions. Because of the way in which Christ fulfilled the Old Testament, “many of the themes that were basic to the Old Testament have now been transposed and transformed” (598). Thus the kingdom of God is no longer rule over a people in a land but is the rule of God in the transformation of a people.

Wellum’s error comes at the starting point of his definition of the kingdom of God. If one starts with the assumption that the kingdom is God’s sovereign rule over creation, then one is left with the difficult question of how the kingdom comes with the Messiah. God has always been sovereign over the creation; the advent of the Messiah does not alter that reality. Wellum addresses this problem by introducing the idea of a saving reign alongside the sovereign reign of God.

But in doing biblical theology, the theologian should endeavor to see how Scripture itself develops a motif and examine that categories that Scripture uses. The Bible itself begins its treatment of the kingdom theme in Genesis 1:26-28. The kingdom announced there is the rule of man over creation under God’s sovereign reign. Thus the kingdom of God announced in the Gospels does not refer to the sovereign, providential reign of God over all things, as that has never been altered. Rather, it refers to the reign of God as mediated though man, his vice-regent. That reign was damaged by the Fall, but it is restored in the Messiah, who reigns as the last Adam.

It is this kingdom, rather than God’s providential reign, that is preserved and promised by the covenants. The covenants preserve the realm of this kingdom (Noahic), promise the coming Seed who will reign (Abrahamic, Davidic), and provide for a people who is to model what a reign under God in a land is to look like (Abrahamic, Mosaic). All of these covenants climax in the inauguration of the New Covenant by the Messiah.

On this understanding, the kingdom as inaugurated by the Messiah does have an emphasis on salvation and transformation, as Wellum rightly notes. The Messiah’s goal is to reverse the Fall by creating a people who will rule the earth under God’s greater rule (Dan. 7:27; Rev.  22:5), and for this people to fulfill that goal they must be saved and transformed. Those who are not will be judged by the king when he returns and fully establishes his reign on earth.

But this conception of the kingdom does not allow the “a theocratic state in which God rules by his human vassal in the Davidic dynasty” and “the immediate transforming reign of God” to be pitted against each other. Such a dichotomy fails to reckon with the reality that one of the reasons for the incarnation was for the Messiah to fulfill Genesis 1:26-28 by reigning as a man. Further, it wrongly dismisses the importance of the realm: a kingdom centered on Jerusalem that encompasses the entire creation (Ps. 72:8). The marvelous thing about God’s plan is that Jesus reigns as both human and as Yahweh. Part of the glory of God’s plan is the way these two reigns combine in Christ. Therefore, it diminishes the glory that God intended to minimize one aspect of the reign of Christ and to highlight only one aspect.

Covenants

Wellum then turns to covenants after his treatment of kingdom. He argues that instead of speaking of a unitary “covenant of grace” or of dispensations, one should give attention to the development of God’s plan in the multiple biblical covenants. I’d agree with this.  But there are problems in some the ways this idea is developed.

Wellum says that the “new covenant supersedes all the previous covenants in redemptive-history” (604). From this he concludes that circumcision ceases and that the land promise is changed. But what does it mean to say that the New Covenant supersedes all of the previous covenants? Does it mean that the Noahic covenant is no longer still in effect? I would find that hard to square with Genesis 8:21-22. The New Covenant is specifically contrasted with the Mosaic covenant; does it replace the Abrahamic and the Davidic in the same way? Finally, whatever supersede means, it cannot mean that the promises of the earlier covenants fail to come to pass. Surely the promises of the Davidic covenant are still in effect. Circumcision, a rite signifying the covenant, is surely different from the promise  of the land.

The chapter closes with a summary of the significance of each of the biblical covenants. This is a good summary apart from disagreement on a few details. For instnace, the land promise is said to be a type. Again, how is a promise a type? Or, “we are no longer under the previous covenants in exactly the same way” as God’s people prior to Christ. This raises the obvious question: in what ways are we and aren’t we under covenants like the Noahic covenant?

Systematic Theology

In chapter seventeen Wellum turns to the implications their proposal has for systematic theology. There is a great deal to appreciate in this chapter. I especially agree with his conclusions regarding the subjects of baptism. His approach to the issue of baptism was one that I came to in seminary, and Wellum has confirmed and strengthened my thinking on this matter.

Particular Atonement

Another area in which Wellum provided enlightenment was his argument for particular atonement based on the intercession of Christ. This argument had previously seemed fairly weak to me, but Wellum’s presentation enabled me to feel its force.

Nonetheless, I think there are several problems with it. Wellum’s argument is twofold: “(1) Christ’s work as our great high priest is a unified work; (2) Christ’s work as the mediator of the new covenant entails a particular and not a general representation” (672). The first point is really just another aspect of the debate over whether accomplished and applied are necessarily coextensive in scope or not. The second point, however, seems to be more significant.

As Wellum unpacks this second point he argues that the priests in the Old Testament mediated only for the covenant people; Christ also mediates only for people in the new covenant. Since only the regenerated (and thus only the elect) are part of the new covenant, Christ only mediates (in both his cross-work and heavenly intercession) for the elect. On the face of it, this seems to be a strong argument. However, Wellum does not seem to reckon with the fact that the reason sacrifices were only made for those already in the old covenant was due to the genealogical principle. But, as he has argued forcefully in this volume, the new covenant does not operate on the geneological principle.

Unlike the Israelites, who were in the Mosaic covenant before the Mosaic sacrifices were offered, no one was in the new covenant when Christ made his sacrifice. Since people enter the new covenant differently than the Mosaic covenant, the sacrifice cannot be made only for those in the covenant lest it be made for no one. Wellum does not seem to recognize this difficulty, for he grants that Christ intercedes for the elect both before and after they believe (674-76). He does not seem to recognize that this undermines the argument that Christ’s priestly work is only done for those in the New Covenant. He could respond that God knows who will be in the New Covenant, but intercession basd on foreknowledge is fundamentally different from intercession tied to who is in the covenant.  If Wellum’s argument concerning baptism holds, as I think it does, then his argument regarding particular redemption does not.

Wellum does anticipate and respond to some other potential objections. He notes that a proponent of general atonement could argue that the Old Testament priest represented only those in the Mosaic Covenant but that Christ, due to the incarnation, represented the whole human race (see Heb. 2:9). To this Wellum replies that Hebrews 2 is clear that Christ only mediates for and brings to glory Abraham’s seed.

This is not a compelling argument, for it assumes what it must prove. Hebrews 2:9 speaks of the provision of salvation in the death of Christ for everyone, and Hebrews 2:17 speaks of the provision of propitiation for “the people” generally. Verse 16 speaks of the application more specifically to the seed of Abraham. Wellum’s argument only works if the provision is only made for those to whom it is applied―which is the point under debate. Further, Wellum never actually explains the meaning of “tastes death for everyone.”

The second general atonement argument to which Wellum responds sees the typology of the Old Testament priestly ministry differently from Wellum. It notes that the Old Testament priests offered sacrifices for a mixed group of believers and unbelievers. What was true of the type is true of the antitype. Wellum has three responses. First, he reiterates that the Old Testament priests only represented those within their covenant. Second, the work of the Old Testament priests was typological and antitypes are always more particular than types. Third, the new covenant is more effective than the old covenant. I find Wellum’s first two counter-arguments to be weak. There is agreement about the first point; there is disagreement about its significance (see above). So reiterating the point doesn’t really establish the conclusion.  The second point is an assertion that Wellum fails to establish. In fact, wouldn’t he say that the land promises become less particular, moving from a type which is a particular plot of real estate to an antitype which is the entire new creation? The third argument is stronger. In response, though, one could affirm that Christ’s sacrifice was more effective than Levitical sacrifices and still hold that he made sacrifice for both believers and unbelievers. Christ’s sacrifice is effective in that it saves those who believe whereas the blood of bullas and goats could never save.

Eschatology and the Land

Wellum concludes the book by turning to eschatologym which brings him back to the issue of the land.

First he reiterates his rejection of the unconditional/conditional categorization of the covenants, affirming both that disobedient Israel forfeited their right to the land and that Jesus will bring the land promise to fulfillment in the new creation. In particular, he argues that dispensationalists err in thinking that the land refers to “a specific piece of real estate with well-defined geographical boundaries” rather than recognizing that it is typological of the entire creation (706).

Second, he says the Abrahamic covenant itself points to the typological nature of the land promise by promising universal blessings, which indicates that the promise cannot be tied to a particular territory. This is confirmed by the fact that the Bible does not give “consistent and precise” borders for the land (708).

Third, when the Abrahamic covenant is understood in the context of the covenant of creation, then it becomes clear that land is a type of the new creation.

Fourth, the fulfillments of the land promise by Joshua and Solomon are incomplete, and the prophets tie their land prophecies to the coming of the new creation, again indicating that the land is a type of the new creation.

Fifth, Jesus fulfills all the covenants by bringing in the new creation. He thus fulfills the land promise in the new creation.

I would agree with Wellum that the land promise points ahead to the new creation. In fact, I think I can make the case stronger by pointing out that the land, seed, blessing aspects of the Abrahamic promises connect to the blessing, seed, dominion promises in the Adamic covenant. Also, some of the land promise passages in Genesis point to a broadening of the land promise to the entire earth. For instance, Jacob is promised, “a nation and a company of nations shall come from you” (35:11) Land is likely implied in this promise. Gentry argues that goyim does not properly apply to the twelve tribes since they were not “politically and socially structured entities with government” (292-93). Nor does the divided kingdom of two nations constitute a “company of nations.” If Gentry is correct, it would be the universal blessing aspect of the promise to Abraham that would be picked up here. It would also be an early instance of implied extension of the land promise. As the Old Testament continues, the extension of the land promise is made more explicit (Psalm 72:8). But if the Old Testament can promise at the same time both particular land promises as well as point to the extension of the promise to the entire creation, why cannot the fulfillment inlcude both the particular and the general? The is no contradiction in Israel possessing a particular land in the new creation and the other nations all enjoying the restored new creation.

The other arguments, such as the lack of “consistent and precise” borders are fairly weak. When the passages are examined, it seems that these inconsistencies are more imagined than actual. If this were an issue of inerrancy, I’m sure Wellum would have little trouble in harmonizing the passages.

Conclusion

While this review has been largely critical, there is much to appreciate in Kingdom through Covenant. I think the title expresses in a pithy way one of the central themes of Scripture. The importance given to the biblical covenants, the defense of a creation covenant, the critique of covenant theology’s single covenant of grace under two administrations, and the defense of believer’s baptism on the basis of a proper understanding of the new covenant are all teachings with which I heartily agree. Despite the differences, I’m looking forward with anticipation to Wellum’s forthcoming contribution on Christology in the Foundations of Evangelical Theology series as well as to other writing that he and Gentry produce.

Justo González: Christian History from the Fathers to the Reformation

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González, Justo. The Story of Christianity. Volume 1. Revised edition. New York: HarperCollins, 2010.

González’s history of Christianity is an excellent survey of church history. His style is engaging, the chapters and chapter sections are brief, and the is largely accurate. González is not an evangelical, so the reader will want to be discerning. For instance, I found him too open to the idea that there was not settled orthodoxy in the earliest history of the church. But in general I found his telling of the Christian story to be fair and accurate. Volume one ends just prior to the Reformation.

Thoughts on Luther’s Works, Vol. 31

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Grimm, Harold J., ed. Career of the Reformer IMartin_Luther2C_1529. Luther’s Works, Volume 31, ed. Helmut T. Lehmann. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1957.

This volume of Luther’s works covers his early writings at the time that he was breaking from Rome. It includes: “Disputation against Scholastic Theology,” Ninety-Five Theses,” Heidelberg Disputation,” “Preface to the Complete Edition of a German Theology,” Explanations of the Ninety-Five Theses,” “Proceedings at Augsburg,” “Two Kinds of Righteousness,” “The Leipzig Debate,” “The Freedom of a Christian,” and “Why the Books of the Pope and His Disciples Were Burned.”

“The Ninety-Five Theses” is, of course, a must read for its historical significance. I also especially benefited from the “Heidelberg Disputation,” “Two Kinds of Righteousness,” and “The Freedom of a Christian.” In these works Luther is abundantly clear why good works are completely unable to save a person while at the same time defending the importance of good works for the Christian. These works also provide a window into the kinds of abuses within the Roman Catholic church that spurred Luther to press for reformation. Finally, reading these works first hand was also a helpful reminder about Roman Catholic teaching at this time. For instance, Luther’s attack on the authority of the pope was not an innovation. He’s drawing on medieval thinkers who thought the pope should be subject to counsels, for instance. Some of the positions that later became hardened into a Roman Catholic position and a Protestant position were still open questions as Luther was raising them.

Here are some samples from this volume:

Therefore, since the spirit of Christ dwells within Christians, by means of which brothers become co-heirs, one body, and citizens of Christ, how is it possible for us not to be participants in all the benefits of Christ? Christ himself has all that belongs to him from the same Spirit. So it happens through the inestimable riches of the mercies of God the Father, that a Christian can be glorified with Christ and can with confidence claim all things in Christ. Righteousness, strength, patience, humility, even all the merits of Christ are his through the unity of the Spirit by faith in him. All his sins are no longer his; but through that same unity with Christ everything is swallowed up in him. And this is the confidence that Christians have and our real joy of conscience, that by means of faith our sins become no longer ours but Christ’s upon whom God placed the sins of all of us. He took upon himself our sins [Cf. Isa. 53:12]. Christ himself is “the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” [John 1:29]. All the righteousness of Christ becomes ours. He places his hand upon us and all is well with us [Cf. Mark 5:23]. He spreads his cloak and covers us [Cf. Ruth 3:9], blessed Savior throughout all ages, Amen.

LW 31:190

Against the doctrine of supererogation (and thus against a treasury of the saints’ merits):

Second, no works of the saints are left unrewarded, for, according to everybody, God rewards a man more than he deserves. As St. Paul says, “The sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be” [Rom. 8:18].

Third, no saint has adequately fulfilled God’s commandments in this life. Consequently the saints have done absolutely nothing which is superabundant. Therefore they have left nothing to be allocated through indulgences. I believe that the inference is clear enough. But I shall prove the major premise so that there is no doubt about it, but that it must be believed in such a way that the opposite view would be considered heretical.

I prove this argument first by that saying of Christ, “When you have done all that is commanded, say ‘We are unworthy servants’ ” [Luke 17:10]. But the term “unworthy servant” is understood to refer to one who has done less and not more than he should. . . . I prove this argument secondly by that passage in Matt. 25[:9] which says that the wise maidens had no desire to share their oil for fear that there would not be enough also for themselves. Third, Paul says, I Cor. 3[:8], “Each shall receive his wages according to his labor.” He does not say, “according to another’s labor.”

Fourth, I adduce Galatians 6, “Everyone must answer for himself” [Cf. Gal. 6:4–5], as well as the saying, “So that each one may receive … according as he has done in the body” [II Cor. 5:10]. Fifth, every saint is obligated to love God as much as he can, indeed more than he can, but no one has or can do that. Sixth, the saints, in their most perfect work, that is, through death, martyrdom, and suffering, do no more than is required. Indeed they do what is required and scarcely that. Therefore they have done much less than they should in other works. Seventh, although I have produced so many reasons, they, on the other hand, to support their position, have not produced one, but only a recital of the circumstances, speaking without proof from the Scriptures, the teachers of the church, and sound reasons. For that reason we can, indeed we must, completely ignore their opinion.

LW 31:212-13.

Should you ask how it happens that faith alone justifies and offers us such a treasure of great benefits without works in view of the fact that so many works, ceremonies, and laws are prescribed in the Scriptures, I answer: First of all, remember what has been said, namely, that faith alone, without works, justifies, frees, and saves; we shall make this clearer later on. Here we must point out that the entire Scripture of God is divided into two parts: commandments and promises. Although the commandments teach things that are good, the things taught are not done as soon as they are taught, for the commandments show us what we ought to do but do not give us the power to do it. They are intended to teach man to know himself, that through them he may recognize his inability to do good and may despair of his own ability. That is why they are called the Old Testament and constitute the Old Testament. For example, the commandment, “You shall not covet” [Exod. 20:17], is a command which proves us all to be sinners, for no one can avoid coveting no matter how much he may struggle against it. Therefore, in order not to covet and to fulfil the commandment, a man is compelled to despair of himself, to seek the help which he does not find in himself elsewhere and from someone else, as stated in Hosea [13:9]: “Destruction is your own, O Israel: your help is only in me.” As we fare with respect to one commandment, so we fare with all, for it is equally impossible for us to keep any one of them.

LW 31:348

The Danger of Political Worldliness

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Yesterday Rod Dreher posted a piece, noting, “You can’t build a movement on the rage and unreason of radio talkers and expect that the weaponized grievance will stay pointed at liberals only.” This has long been a concern of mine for biblical reasons. As we say in our book, Biblical Worldview: Creation, Fall, Redemption:

Christians are sometimes in danger of becoming so accustomed to the status quo that they fail to realize that the way things work is worldly in the negative biblical sense. Worldliness isn’t limited to entertainment or dress. Worldliness can be found in every aspect of life, including political activities. It is possible for worldliness to be present in political discourse–even the political discourse of people who are right about the issues.

Paul admonished Christians to render to Nero the honor that God said he was due (Rom. 13:7), and Paul himself determined to render the biblically required honor to a corrupt high priest (Acts 23:4-5). So today Christian citizens ought to render the honor their leaders are owed by virtue of their office.

Honoring leaders doesn’t mean they’re above critique, even searching critique. If they’re acting unlawfully (by God’s law or just human laws), then the Christian, like John the Baptist, can forthrightly state this even if it results in being jailed. But Christians should be able to deliver these critiques in a way that still renders due honor.

Even if the political opponent could be considered an enemy in the fullest sense of the term, Christians are to love their enemies. This means that the Christian should treat his political opponents with kindness (1 Cor. 13:4). He shouldn’t rejoice when political opponents are caught in wrongdoing (13:6). Believers shouldn’t be arrogant or rude when dealing with poltiical opponents (13:4-5). Nor should they be irritable or resentful when their opponents win (13:5). The Christian shouldn’t believe every negative assertion made against his opponents, nor should he dismiss negative reports about his own side. The Christian should be scupuous about being fair and truthful to all parties.

Biblical Worldview: Creation, Fall, Redemption, Teacher’s Edition, 275.

Later we note:

Within the context of government, Paul tells Christians to ‘speak evil of no one, to avoid quarrelling, to be gentle, and to show perfect courtesy toward all people’ (Titus 3:2).

This sounds unrealistic. Is Paul really saying that a Christian can’t say anything negative about a political opponent? Can he not argue with his policies or expose his corruption? That isn’t what Paul means when he says, ‘Speak evil of no one,’ but he’s still saying something that serves as a sharp critique of American political practice. The Greek word that underlies ‘speak evil’ is the verb from which we get the word blaspheme. Paul is prohibiting angry or abusive speech, insults, slander, and defamation.

Biblical Worldview: Creation, Fall, Redemption, Teacher’s Edition, 281.

I’ve wondered more than once this election season about the potential that our electoral choices in November might reflect a judgment of God. If it is a judgment, we might do well to consider that it may be a judgment upon us for our own sins and not only for the sins of others.

The Pastor as Public Theologian

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Vanhoozer, Kevin J. and Owen Strachan. The Pastor as Public Theologian: Reclaiming a Lost Vision. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2015.

pastorThere are certain books whose effect largely depends on the time in life when you read them. For instance, I’d say that Frank Thielman’s Paul and the Law: A Contextual Approach was one of the most significant books that I read while in seminary. It was while reading that book that I understood for the first time the significance of the biblical covenants. I know that I had read about the covenants before, but their role in Scripture and my relation to them clicked for the first time while reading Thielman. That book may not have been as significant to my thinking had I already developed my thinking on the covenants and on the Mosaic Law. I have the sense that Vanhoozer and Strachan’s could have a similar effect on a seminarian or pastor—it could reshape the way they think about ministry. Others will already share their vision, making the book less significant to them.

Vanhoozer and Stachan’s basic message is that pastors need to reclaim their vision of the pastorate from secular sources and seminaries need to be reshaped so that pastors rightly see their mission to be that of theologians. The pastor theologian is not an academic. Rather, he is a public theologian in the sense that he helps God’s people live out God’s Word in all of life. There are a number of ways that a pastor achieves this goal (e.g., pastoral visitation, counseling), but the sermon ought to be the central means.

I’m in agreement with the central message of the book, but some things gave me pause.  I remain unconvinced that Rowan Williams, for instance, is really the most faithful model to set before readers. I also remain skeptical that the Christological offices of prophet, priest, and king are a model for pastoral ministry.

Does Romans 4:13 Expand the Land Promise?

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Hsieh, Nelson S. “Abraham as ‘Heir of the World’: Does Romans 4:13 Expand the Old Testament Abrahamic Land Promises?” Master’s Seminary Journal 26, no. 1 (Spring 2015): 95-110.

Hsieh notes the tendency of non-dispensationalsits to move away from allegorical or spiritualizing arguments which state that the church has replaced Israel and to move toward arguments that the promises, such as the land promise, have been expanded beyond Israel in the NT to include the whole church and the whole world. Thus the land promise for Israel is fulfilled not in the restoration of the nation of Israel to a land but in the blessing of the new earth for all of God’s people.220px-Gold_TMS_Logo

Romans 4:13 is one of a handful of texts used to make a case for this perspective. Hsieh notes, however, that this text is employed with little argumentation. Proponents typically assume that it teaches the extension of the land promise. Those who do argue for this view typically appeal to second temple literature that expands the land promise to encompass the world. In response, Hsieh argues that the second temple literature does not have a uniform position on the land promise. Some literature does extend the promise to the world while other literature sees a localized fulfillment for the nation of Israel. What is more, at least in Jubilees, the expansion of the land promise to the world is held alongside the view that Israel rules over the nations of the world from its own land.

Hsieh proposes a different interpretation. He argues that contextually Paul defines the promise noted in 4:13 “in terms of Abraham becoming the father of many nations and having innumerable descendants (vv. 17-18)” (107). To be heir of the world thus means that Abraham is heir of a seed from many nations who have faith in God as he did. Not only does this reading make better sense of the context, but also, Hsieh argues, because this is a promise that Abraham believed. Abraham knew of the promise that he would be the father of many nations. Abraham did not know (and thus could not believe) and expanded land promise. Hsieh closes his article by making the case that κόσμος and κληρονόμος can refer to seed and need not point to the land promise.

I think that Hsieh mounts a good argument for his position, and he may well be right about this text. However, as he indicates at the close of his article, other texts are also in play in this discussion and in need of more careful study. I’m not convinced that his major concern (which I share) is harmed if some of these texts do validate the thesis that the land promise is expanded. Psalm 72:8 expands the land promise within the Old Testament itself. Indeed, this expansion may go back to Abraham himself. In Genesis 22:17, God promises that Abraham’s seed will possess the gates of their enemies. Linked tightly to this promise is the promise that in Abraham’s seed all the nations of the earth will be blessed (22:18). If these promises are meant to be tightly linked, the promise of 22:17 would not be limited to the conquest of Canaan but would be extended to the reign of the Messianic King over all the nations. Further, if the expansion of the land promise to the nations extends all the way back to Abraham itself, then the expansion need not be played off against the specific land promises given to Israel (and Hsieh’s suvey of Jubilees shows that at least in one text it was not). It is, after all, an Israelite king that rules from Jerusalem over all the nations. If other nations exist in their lands under the Messianic king, why not allow a restoration of Israel to its land under the Messianic king? Finally, Hsieh may be correct that Romans 4:13 does not contribute to an expansion of the land promise theme, but if my proposal is correct, Abraham as father of many nations and the expansion of the land promise many be themes that are more closely linked than one might first think.

Was Edwards an Intellectualist, Voluntarist, or Concurrentist

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Waddington, Jeffrey C. “Which Comes First, The Intellect or the Will? Alvin Plantinga and Jonathan Edwards on a Perennial Question,” The Confessional Presbyterian 11 (2015): 121-28, 252-53.

Alvin Plantinga, in Warranted Christian Belief, proposes a concurrentist model of the relation between the intellect and the will while identifying the position of Jonathan Edwards as intellectualist, or giving priority to the intellect. Waddington argues that Edwards’s position was closer to Plantinga’s than Plantinga realized.CPJ-11-FrontCover-forCB

In the course of the article Waddington helpfully classifies various positions on the relation of the intellect and will. The first noted is “absolute intellectualism,” a position associated with Thomas Aquinas. On this view “the will is considered blind, and is seen as a slave of sorts to the intellect.” A second position is “functional intellectualism.” In this view the intellect is primary because it presents the will with the “object to which it is either attracted or repulsed.” But ontologically the will and intellect are equals. Waddington notes this view is akin to the Trinity in which each of the persons are ontologically equal while a functional order among the members exists. A key difference between these two positions is that the sin has only affected the intellect in the first, since the will is a slave to the intellect. But on the second view, both intellect and will are affected by sin and in need of regeneration. A third position is “scholastic voluntarism.” On this view the will takes such priority that it is “self-determining.” A fourth position is “Augustinian voluntarism.” In this view, the will is the orientation of the person toward or away from God. This orientation his primacy over the intellect. Finally, there is the concurrentist position is which there is no primacy of intellect or will over the other.

Though Plantinga identified Edwards as an intellectualist, Edwards scholars such as Norman Fiering and Allen Guelzo have identified Edwards as an Augustinian voluntarist. Waddington notes that this is a valid option, and the view that he had held. However, he now recognizes the legitimacy of functional intellectualism to  describe Edwards. Both categories seem to fit elements of Edwards work. In the end, however, Waddington now thinks that Edwards fits best into the concurrentist position

Review of Article on the Problem of Evil and Animal Death

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Faro, Ingrid. “The Question of Evil and Animal Death Before the Fall,” Trinity Journal 36 (2015): 193-213.

Faro begins her article by seeking to determine what should be considered evil. She argues that too often English speakers read the English sense of the word into Hebrew words with much broader semantic domains. Though not explicit, she seems to indicate that natural events like hurricanes, or falling off a cliff due to gravity, etc. should not be classified as evils because it is the way God designed natural laws to work in the world. Gravity and hurricanes both have good effects too. As the article develops Faro seems to extend this logic to predation as well. When she defines evil she leaves aside senses from Hebrew words such as “deficient,” “displeasing,” or “unpleasant.” He definition reads: “Evil, then, from God’s perspective is presented predominately as choices that conflict with God.”

The advantage of this approach is evident for the Christian who wishes to escape the problem of animal death. It simply redefines animal death as not evil. However, I’m not convinced of the sufficiency of this argument. The philosophers who are concerned about the problem of evil in the animal world are not thinking that the pain and suffering and death in the animal realm is evil because they’re reading narrow English senses into words with broader Hebrew senses. They’re looking at death and pain and suffering and recoiling with horror at it. In addition limiting evil to actions chosen by humans seems too narrow theologically. If God has built creational norms into his world, and if sin has disrupted these norms across the board, then it would seem that evil is anything contrary to these norms whether or not the violation is due to human choice in an immediate sense.

The latter part of Faro’s article seeks to find biblical support for the possibility of animal death prior to the Fall. She appeals to three passages: Genesis 1-2, Psalm 104; Job 38-41.

She mounts a number of arguments from Genesis 1-2. First, she says the numbering of the days of creation reveal that “the universe was not created to be eternal in its original physical form” (206). She appeals to several cross references in support: Psalm 102:25-26; Isaiah 34:4; 51:6; Revelation 6:12-14; 21:1-4. It is not clear how the numbering of the days in Genesis 1 indicates that the present earth will be destroyed. The other passages all refer to a post-Fall reality and does not speak of what would have happened had there been no Fall.

Second, while acknowledging that plant death is different from animal death, she thinks it is significant that the seed and the “cycle of plant life” is a picture of death and resurrection (206-7). It is not clear how this argument advances Faro’s point. She could be arguing that if death was not present from the beginning, God would not have built in a sign of death and resurrection into plant life. But does this does not seem to be a sound argument given God’s foreknowledge.

Third, she claims that both Adam and the animals were formed from the dust of the ground, which she says indicates they were created mortal (appealing to Genesis 3:19). Humans were to eat from the tree of life to avoid death, but animals were not to eat of the tree of life. Thus animals were created mortal, and God intended for them to die. But Genesis 3:19 presents death as a punishment for sin, not as something built into the nature of the creation. The historic position is that Adam was created immortal but was not confirmed in his immortality. This position best accounts for all of the data: death as a punishment, the possibility of receiving that punishment, and the tree of life as a sign of confirmation in immortality. Furthermore, Genesis nowhere implies that animals would have needed to eat from that tree to avoid death. Faro’s reading makes it seem as if the tree has some kind of magical power rather than recognizing that the trees are sacramental in nature.

The argument from Psalm 104 is simple. This is a creation psalm that celebrates animal predation as part of God’s wise ordering of the earth (v. 24). In response, Psalm 104 is clearly a reflection on a creation that has been affected by the Fall (v.35). God’s provision of food for animals (and humans) now includes the death of other animals. But from the beginning it was otherwise. Genesis 1:29-30 gives plants as food to humans and to animals. It is only after the Fall that God permits the eating of meat (Gen. 9:3-6; note that the passage places limitations on what animals can and cannot eat as well as humans). Whether or not Genesis 9 is establishing something new or reiterating a permission given before the Flood is open for debate, but it is clear that the shift to eating meat happened after the Fall for both humans and animals.

The passages from Job are of the same nature as Psalm 104. They refer to God providing food for predatory animals or to death among animals. Faro’s argument would seem to be that God’s wisdom is on display even in situations that include animal death. But she is able to take this a step further with Job 40—we should not claim that animal death is an evil, for to do so would be to find fault with God or to contend with him. The difficulty with Faro’s argument is that Job 38-41 is dealing with God’s wisdom in providentially ruling over a fallen world. It makes no claims about what life would ideally have been like before the Fall.

Later Faro appeals to Job to make the case that death and suffering do not “exist in the world due to human sin” alone. She notes that one of the points of the book of Job is that death and suffering have causes other than sin (here she also appeals to John 9:2). Yet, while it is true that Job’s sufferings were not caused by his own sin, it is difficult to move from this to the conclusion that the suffering he experienced was in no way connected to the Fall brought about by Adam’s sin. Were the loathsome sores that covered Job from head to foot the kind of thing that could have occurred to a man had Adam not sinned?

Faro wraps up her article by taking into account the Scripture passages that look toward a future in which animals live together in harmony. She claims,  “Although animals of prey kill for food, animals are not capable of the savagery, cruelty, and terror that humanity can display. Humans, however, can teach animals cruelty, such as training pit bulls or roosters to fight and attack” (209). The human responsibility summarized in the creation mandate point in a different direction, Faro argues. She seems to indicate that part of the creation mandate is to improve animals from their original condition. The claim that animals are not capable of savagery or cruelty is a doubtful claim. Yet without this supposition Faro’s explanation fails to conform to the Creation, Fall, Redemption structure of Scripture. Key to this structure is an affirmation of the original goodness of creation.

The problem of evil as it pertains to animal death is one of the major philosophical challenges to forms of Christianity that seek to accommodate the current evolutionary consensus. Faro attempts to address this problem by claiming that animal death and suffering is actually not an evil. However, this claim rests on weak exegetical support and, at least in this article, fails to engage the philosophical/theological arguments to the contrary.

Thinking about the Development of Doctine

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91dj-uoppxlOne question I face in class as a church historian is, ‘If doctrine develops, does this mean that what unites us to Christ changes over time too?’ This is an excellent question and, indeed, a rather obvious one when one is investigating the history of doctrine. Two things need to be borne in mind here.

First, Scripture gives no hint that that which saves changes: it is always trust in Christ that unites one to Christ. Thus, someone who was a believer in the first century is saved in the same way as someone who believes in the twenty-first.

Second, as noted above, the public criteria for what constitutes a credible profession of faith do change over time, as do the standards for office-bearing. As the church reflected upon the identity of Christ and upon Scripture over time, the limitations and inadequacies of certain formulations became more apparent. We noted above that in the third century, the view that Christ was subordinate to the Father in terms of his being was considered acceptable because the implications of that position had not been fully worked out. Once this had been done, and the unacceptable, unbiblical implications of such a position had become clear, the church put in place statements that ruled such views out of bounds. It is not that people who believed in Christ’s subordination in the second century could not therefore have been saved—we are all, after all, saved despite some of the things which we believe. It is rather that the church had come to an understanding that to protect and to articulate the gospel, accurate concepts and appropriate language were necessary, and some of these had to change over time as the in adequacy and abuse of earlier forms became clear.

Carl R. Trueman, The Creedal Imperative, (Wheaton: Crossway, 2012), 96-97.