Exegesis and Theology

The Blog of Brian Collins

Review of Biblical Authority after Babel by Kevin Vanhoozer

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Vanhoozer, Kevin J. Biblical Authority After Babel: Retrieving the Solas in the Spirit of Mere Protestant Christianity. Grand Rapids: Brazos, 2016.

Kevin Vanhoozer’s Biblical Authority after Babel was written on the five-hundredth anniversary of the Reformation in defense of the Reformation. Vanhoozer takes seriously critiques of the Reformation made popular by Christian Smith and Brad Gregory, namely, that the Reformation led to interpretive chaos (and thus to an increasingly splintered Christianity) and secularism.

Vanhoozer rejects these claims. For instance, he observes that secularization is not a result of the Reformation. It is the result of reading the Bible in an academic, critical way rather than as Scripture. In other words, secularism is directly contrary to the Reformation approach to Scripture. Furthermore, Vanhoozer demonstrates that neo-scholastic Thomism was more amenable to secularism than the theology of the Reformation (this is a point also made by Roman Catholic Ressourcement theologians in the mid-twentieth century; see Rowland, Ratzinger’s Faith [Oxford University Press, 2008], kindle loc., 486-603).

Perhaps more plausible is the claim that Protestants cannot agree on their interpretations of Scripture, which is a problem that leads to fragmentation. However, Vanhoozer argues that “Mere Protestant Christians” actually agree on the fundamentals of the gospel story. This does not make disagreement unimportant, but it does reveal a fundamental unity that lies back of that disagreement.

Nevertheless, Vanhoozer does not leave the matter there. He engages with the issue of epistemology. He rejects an epistemology based on the church’s magisterial authority. He also rejects epistemologies based on the authority of the scholar or the autonomous individual. Instead, he argues for an epistemology based on the testimony of Scripture as self-authenticating through the work of the Spirit. As already noted, Vanhoozer by this is not advocating a raw individualism. Like the Reformers, tradition plays an important role in his theological and exegetical method. Tradition does not exercise magisterial authority, but it does serve the interpreter. The Bible alone is the final authority, but tradition gives important testimony regarding right interpretation.

So how does the preceding impact church polity and unity? Vanhoozer argues that local churches are given authority to make judgments regarding right belief and practice. They have the responsibility to rule on what Scripture teaches in these matters for the sake of “the integrity of the gospel.” (Churches typically exercise this responsibility by adopting confessions of faith and catechisms.) Vanhoozer further argues that these “local churches have an obligation to read in communion with other local churches.” (This can be seen by the way different local churches adopt the same confessions as other churches or adapt the confessions of other churches.)

Vanhoozer grants that there is a tension sometimes between unity and the purity of the gospel. As a result, he rejects ecumenism and sectarianism. He affirms denominations that hold strongly to their beliefs and that also can cooperate with denominations that differ with them.

In the end, I think that Vanhoozer successfully defends the Reformation from recent critiques. I also think his model for church unity and diversity in the present age is correct. However, based on what I know of Vanhoozer’s ecclesial situation, our judgments about implementation differ. I think this demonstrates that models can only take us so far. Spiritual wisdom is always needed to apply the model.

Review of Aniol, By the Rivers of Babylon – Part 3

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Gathered Worship

In the final section of By the Waters of Babylon Aniol turns to the issue of worship. In this section he does an admirable job of defining worship, defining the mission of the institutional church, and establishing the regulative principle of worship. Though differing with an exegetical point here or a detail there, I am in full agreement with the general thrust of the argument in this section.

One of the best parts of this section is the discussion of “authentic worship” versus worship as a shaper of behavior. Aniol notes that according to some understandings, authenticity is presented as being who you are―with no discussion of whether who you are needs to change. In contrast to this Aniol argues that worship should reshape who we are. Being authentic should not excuse being unlike Christ. Rather, worship should reshape us so that we are authentically more and more like Christ. This is profound and worthy of careful meditation.

Also helpful is Aniol’s argument that the worship heritage that western nations enjoy should be passed along to people of other cultures. This makes sense to me, given that cultures change over time as well as by place. Thus even western nations are making use of the riches from previous cultures when they draw on their own tradition. I would raise one caution here. There should be no assumption that non-western cultures are simply fallen and do not contain the resources for right worship. While on the one hand, one should argue that every culture is totally depraved (meaning that there is no area of culture untouched by the Fall), no culture is as bad as it could possibly be. Thus there is the need for discerning structure and direction in every culture. Further, while Christians in new cultures do not need to re-invent the wheel, missionaries should make a careful distinction between passing on the rich heritage of Christian worship and simply imposing American ways of doing things. American ways are not necessarily biblical ways, and it may well be that in many areas the indigenous culture is less fallen than American culture.

Finally, Aniol makes the intriguing point that Scripture comes with inspired literary forms that are authoritative for our worship. This is a significant point, but it begs for enlargement. What are these forms and what are some concrete ways that they should be regulating worship at present? I would like to see some development of this idea in Scott’s future writing.

Conclusion

In some ways this has been a critical review, but the criticism comes not because I oppose Scott’s project but because I support it and hope to strengthen it. My largest disagreement has to do not with the substance of Scott’s proposal or even with the viewpoints that critiques but with a tendency to favor the two-kingdoms approach and to associate the reformational viewpoint with transformationalism. I think balancing the assessment of these two groups will actually strengthen the overall thesis of the book. I commend By the Waters of Babylon to everyone interested in missions, culture, and worship.

Review of Aniol, By the Rivers of Babylon – Part 2

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Culture

In this section Aniol surveys Niebuhr’s Christ and culture paradigm, looks at the cultural views of key historical figures, and evaluates what he labels the separatist, two kingdoms, transformationalist, and missional approaches. It is at this point that I think the book could be sharpened.

Two Kingdoms

Though Aniol doesn’t actually fully embrace the two-kingdoms view, proposing his own sanctificationist view, he does say, “Perhaps the two-kingdom approach is closest to the New Testament perspective, with its balance of both antithesis and commonality” (115). In his initial evaluation of the two-kingdoms view, the critique is muted by qualifications (“sometimes,” “impression,” “may be”): “the idea of natural law sometimes gives the impression of a neutral middle ground between believers and unbelievers . . . the antithesis may be blurred with the idea of natural law” (75). Later, however, he makes this more trenchant critique: “it fails to emphasize that a Christian’s involvement in the culture should manifest his Christian values” (115).

The attraction to the two-kingdoms view is understandable, especially for those who are concerned for the distinctiveness of the church’s mission and for culturally distinctive, sacred worship (including in the area of music). I find myself great agreement when reading two-kingdoms proponents about these matters. Nevertheless, the two-kingdoms view suffers from some fatal weaknesses.

First, it is an exegetically untenable position. David Van Drunen, the theologian who has done the most to make a historical and exegetical argument for the two-kingdoms view, proposes that the common kingdom and the redemptive kingdom are founded on the Noahic and the Abrahamic covenants, respectively. Neither of these covenants establish kingdoms, however (though the Abrahamic covenant does have promises related to future kings). The Davidic covenant, which is specifically about the kingdom, is neglected in Van Drunen’s treatments.

In addition, it is difficult to maintain that the Noahic covenant is a non-redemptive covenant or a purely natural law covenant. The redemptive aspects of this covenant are foreshadowed in Genesis 5:29. It is tied to a picture of redemption: the salvation of humans and animals through the Flood. The covenant is founded on a sacrifice, which symbolically shows the covenant’s foundation is Christ’s atoning work. Finally, the covenant includes special revelation about not eating blood, which shows the covenant is not solely a natural law covenant. To avoid these conclusions Van Drunen proposes that in 6:18 God makes a redemptive covenant with only Noah while in chapter 9 God makes a different common covenant with all creation. Van Drunen wishes to distance the covenant in chapter 9 from the sacrifice in chapter 8. These interpretations are strained, to say the least.

Second, Van Drunen errs in conceiving of the creation blessing as a command that formed part of Adam’s probation. It is better to see Genesis 1:28 as a blessing that came under covenant sanctions when man sinned. Rightly conceiving the creation blessing has significant consequences. The themes of blessing, land/kingdom, and seed are contained in the creation blessing. The curse in Genesis 3 is a reversal of the blessing in the areas of seed and land. It is no mistake that blessing, seed, and land are the major themes found in the Noahic, Abrahamic, Mosaic, Davidic, and new covenants. Redemption is about reversing the curse in these areas. Since human sin led to the curse, addressing the problem of human sin is at the heart of redemption.

In addition, the creation blessing is the foundation for the kingdom theme in Scripture. Man was blessed with rule over the earth under God’s greater rule. When mankind rebelled against God, that rule was marred and distorted. The kingdom of God theme is about the restoration of human rule under God’s greater rule. The glory of God’s redemptive plan is that Jesus, the man who restores that rule, is both God and man. This understanding of the kingdom theme shows the difficulty of the two kingdoms approach. The kingdom that Christ announced cannot be relegated to the churchly sphere because its ultimate end will be the restoration of the original creation blessing.

Biblically it is clear that the Messianic kingdom extends to areas VanDrunen assigns to the common kingdom. Psalm 72 says the Messiah will “defend the cause of the poor of the people, give deliverance to the children of the need, and crush the oppressor!” (Ps. 72:1). He will accept tribute from the other kings of the earth (Ps. 72:10). These are activities that VanDrunen would keep in the common kingdom. The entire idea of a redemptive kingdom separate from a common kingdom seems to be read into the biblical covenants rather than out of them.

A third weakness in VanDrunen’s work is the identification of all of culture with Babylon. VanDrunen bases this key part of his argument on a particular idealistic, amillennial interpretation of Revelation. He specifically constructs his eschatological statements so as to exclude both premillennialism and postmillennialism (Living in God’s Two Kingdoms, 63). This idealistic interpretation of Babylon in Revelation 18 is then conflated with Jeremiah 29:4-14 so that it refers to all of human culture, good and bad. However, Babylon of Revelation 18 seems rather to refer to worldly culture in opposition to God (and it does so as manifested in a particular place at the end of this age). In relation to this, the Babylonian exile does not seem to be the best model for Christian sojourning in the present evil age. From the exile from Eden and the exile of Cain through the Babylonian Captivity, exile from the land is punishment for sin. The sojourning theme, by contrast, is a positive theme. When the New Testament does explicitly draw on an Old Testament example of sojourning, it looks to Abraham.

Fourth, the thrust of VanDrunen’s presentation is to minimize the antithesis that exists between Christians and non-Christians in the cultural realm. He notes for example, that there is nothing really distinctively Christian about the vocations of carpenter, firefighter, plumber, or landscaper aside from the virtues of diligence, respect, and honesty that all people recognize as good. But what if VanDrunen shifted his examples to include research biologists, philosophers, historians, or bioethicists? The minimization of the antithesis by the two-kingdoms view seems to cut at the heart of Aniol’s project, which maintains that the church cannot be conformed to the culture because of the antithesis. Aniol notes this difficulty in passing, but I think it is such a threat to his (and my) view that it deserves a more sustained critique.

None of this is to say that Aniol holds to the views critiqued above. He does not go into this level of detail in his summary of the views. However, these aspects of the two-kingdoms approach make me wish that Aniol had been more critical of it.

Creation Regained: Response to Aniol’s Critique

Aniol does provide a sustained critique of a group he labels transformationalists, with Al Wolters as the chief representative. This labeling is problematic. The label transformationalist comes from Niebuhr’s typology, but Wolters’s position does not fall nicely into Niebuhr’s paradigm. Wolters describes his position as reformational, and he uses the word “transform” only four times in Creation Regained: once in quoting Romans 12:2, twice regarding the transformed way that early Christians viewed slavery, and once of the transformation of culture in the eschaton. Some reformational thinkers have objected to being labeled transformationalists by their critics. In fact, in contrast to transformationalism, Wolters and Goheen note, “The history of this ‘time between the times,’ then, will not be one of smooth progress or an incremental linear development of the kingdom toward its consummation. Neither will our mission be one that resembles a steady victorious march toward the end” (133). Rather, “We announce and embody a victory that remains hidden until the final day. And so the embodiment of that victory often appears in what appears to the world as weakness, even foolishness” (134-35). What does it look like to live out this vision in the present world: “If we as the church want to be faithful to the equally comprehensive biblical story we will find ourselves faced with a choice: either accommodate the Bible’s story to that of our culture and live as a tolerated minority community, or remain faithful and experience some degree of conflict and suffering” (134). This is neither triumphalism nor a minimization of the antithesis.

Critique 1: Conflation of Divine and Human Creation

The specific critiques launched against Wolters seem to arise from misunderstanding. For instance, Aniol writes, “Wolters fails to distinguish between God’s creation and man’s creation. He often conflates the two categories, equating the intrinsic goodness of God’s handiwork with what mankind produces” (79). He raises the stakes by saying that this is “to slide dangerously close to Pelagianism” (79). Wolters’s view does expand the conception of creation beyond material things in two ways, but this expansion does not involve a confusion of God’s creation and human creation.

First, Wolters holds that law is built into creation. Creation is not only material things; creation includes non-physical laws like gravity and norms for marriage. Drawing on the wisdom literature Wolters observes that God designed his world to work in particular ways. Wisdom is to observe God’s world to through the lens of God’s Word to discern how best to live in the world God made. Wolters’s point here actually strengthens Aniol’s project: “Much of modern art, with its refusal to recognize any aesthetic norms, edges toward nihilism: it manifests a glorification of autonomous human creativity, and in doing so denies God’s creativity in the aesthetic realm. Not all art is good art. Both artists and aestheticians are called, each in their own ways, to discern the criteria that define good art—criteria that are not arbitrary but rooted in a given order of things that must be honored” (26). Here Wolters’s is challenging the same cultural relativity that Aniol is challenging.

It is probably Wolters’s second expansion of the concept of creation that concerns Aniol. Wolters points out that God “put an image of himself on the earth with a mandate to continue” the work of creation. In making this point, however, Wolters is not conflating what God has made and what humans make and calling both creation. He is simply making the point that the “unfolding of culture and society are integral to creation . . . , that they are not outside God’s plan for the cosmos, despite sinful aberrations, but were built in from the beginning, were part of the blueprint” (44-45). In other words, Christians should not oppose cities per se and prefer an agrarian lifestyle on the grounds that Adam lived in a garden but Cain built a city. We should not avoid all music because Jubal devised the first musical instruments. Rather, we recognize that at the center of the new creation is a city, the new Jerusalem, and that right worship of God can make use of musical instruments. Why? Because God designed his creation so that it could develop in such ways. Wolters is not saying the human development itself is God’s creation. Rather, the norms that God built into the world make such development possible and necessary.

In addition, Wolters specifically guards against Aniol’s concerns by a detailed discussion of worldliness (something absent in Van Drunen’s writings). He argues that “world describes the totality of sin-infected creation” (64). He argues that “nothing is ‘neutral’ in the sense that sin fails to affect it” (82). Goheen, who coauthored the postscript to the second edition of Creation Regained writes in another book, “After being rescued [Christians] are not to love the world or anything in the world (1 John 2:15), nor are they to conform to the pattern of this world (Rom. 12:2). When Paul exhorts the church not to be conformed to the pattern of this world, he is referring to culture” (A Light to the Nations, 182). There is no cultural neutrality here, nor is there an ascription of the intrinsic goodness of God’s creation to the works of man’s hands.

Critique 2: Confusion of Elements and Forms

Aniol’s second critique of Wolters is that his structure/direction distinction “fails to distinguish between what might be called elements and their forms” (79). This critique does not reject the structure/direction distinction, for Aniol notes, “Wolters’s structure/direction categories are a good starting point, but the situation is often more complex” (79). Wolters would not disagree with this last statement, for he has himself noted that structure and direction don’t really settle issues; they provide the framework within which the discussion takes place (cf. Creation Regained, 110).

The value of this framework should not be discounted, however. By affirming the goodness of creational structure, Wolters defends what the church has defended since the rise of the gnostic heresies, namely, the essential goodness of creation. By affirming the reality of direction no one is not able to do what Aniol fears—simply affirm that cultural practices are creationally good. One is forced to argue that such practices are not twisted in sinful directions. Structure and direction may simply be a starting point, but it is a good starting point.

Aniol disputes some of what Wolters labels as structure: “he lists technology as a structure, but technology is already a direction itself; it is a form of the more basic element of communication. The same is true for dance and music.” This kind of dispute, however, is not a critique of the framework that Wolters is laying out; it is the kind of discussion that is necessary within the framework. Having seen Wolters’s responses to questions of this sort, I think he would welcome challenges to his categorization on certain points. (However, I would personally disagree with making technology a direction of communication; I would see technology as the basic structure of tool using with the different actual technologies developed embodying various directions.)

Critique 3: Cultural is Neutral

Aniol states, “the transformationalist position eventually understands culture in general to be neutral. Any ‘sinful direction’ it recognizes is typically limited to the content of a given cultural form but not the form itself. Rather, since forms are characterized as elements (or directions as structures), very few if any cultural forms are judged to be against God’s law. The danger of this view is that anything in culture is fair game for the Christian for the Christian, and ‘cultural redemption’ means little more than adoption” (79).

Aniol is not tilting against windmills here. This does describe real people and movements. But it is doubtful that it accurately represents Wolters and Goheen. As already noted Wolters and Goheen have a robust understanding of worldliness which guards against mere cultural adoption. For instance, Goheen describes his family’s approach to the use of technology: “Ignoring this potent force in our homes is nothing short of foolish. We read Neal Postman’s Technopoly, and when new technologies were introduced into our home, we discussed them together: What will this give and what will this take away? What are its benefits and its dangers? We can record some successes and, sadly, some failures. Nevertheless, there must be an intentional plan to discuss these issues to help our children learn to use technology wisely” (A Light to the Nations, 222-23). He also describes their approach to television: “When we had television in our home in the early years, we allowed our kids to watch some children’s programing as long as they observed a simple rule after each commercial. They had to ask (out loud so we could hear): ‘Who do you think you’re kidding?’” (A Light to the Nations, 223). Notice that the television, which dominates so many American lives, evidently went by the wayside. And notice what Goheen says really filled their time: “None of our children can remember a time when we didn’t have family worship as central to our evenings. We set aside an hour to an hour and a half for family worship five nights a week (Monday through Thursday and Saturday). It was important to set a time and remain unswerving in a commitment to guard it at all costs against other intrusions. It meant starting other meetings later and not planning other evening events. During this time we taught our children the true story of the world in Scripture, using books and methods appropriate to their ages. We spent significant time singing and praying together” (A Light to the Nations, 222).

This doesn’t sound like “little more than adoption” of the culture. Nor does Goheen’s comments about technology comport with the idea that direction only has to do with content and that forms are always structural.

Concluding Thoughts Regarding Wolters and Goheen

This response to Aniol’s critiques of Wolters and Gohneen does not mean that his critiques of cultural conformity in the name of cultural redemption have no legitimate target. They do. Nor does this mean that everyone writing from Kuyperian background is equally helpful. Wolters is far better than Cornelius Plantinga, in my estimation (and on the two-kingdom side, David Van Drunen is far better than D. G. Hart on the issue of Christians and the common kingdom). My point is simply that Creation Regained actually gives Aniol a better platform from which to make those critiques than the two-kingdom viewpoint. I think that Aniol could strengthen his position by seeing Wolters as an ally rather than as a foe.

Nor does this response mean that Wolters and Goheen are above critique. For instance, Wolters’s claim that the “products of human culture” will be purified and brought into the new creation goes beyond the biblical evidence and seems unnecessary even in a redemption-as-restoration paradigm. I also question Wolters’s willingness to speak of Christians advancing the kingdom in such areas as “advertising, labor-management relations, education, and international affairs” (76). This language seems too expansive. Regarding Goheen’s A Light to the Nations, I’ve in the past called it “the most disappointing and most profitable book that I’ve read recently. Disappointing because I came to the book with high hopes and found that I disagreed with his basic thesis. Profitable because it is . . . full of wis[dom].” Nonetheless, I find their overall paradigm more biblically grounded and more practically useful than the two-kingdoms paradigm.

What is Culture? Aniol’s Proposal

Aniol concludes his section on culture by arguing that culture should be disconnected from the concept of race and connected to the New Testament category of behavior. If this is not done, then any cultural critique will be labeled racist. If that happens, then the Christian is not able to critique any culture.

Since race is a social construct, and since, given the way the construct has been developed, races exist across multiple cultures, I find the first part of the argument compelling. I also agree that when relating the New Testament to the idea of culture, the idea of behavior is a major connecting point. However, culture is more than behavior. It involves ways of thinking, and it involves artifacts. I think Aniol’s discussion of culture, while good and helpful, could be strengthened by including a discussion of the Bible’s teaching about thinking. In addition, I think expansion on the concepts of elements and forms, which he discusses at various points in the book, might help him further address the artefactual aspects of culture.

Review of Aniol, By the Rivers of Babylon – Part 1

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Scott Aniol’s writings about music, worship, and culture present a viewpoint that is in need of careful consideration for the health of the church. He brings knowledge of theology and a knowledge of music together in ways that many people on both sides of the debate over worship do not do. Further, Scott grounds his discussions about music in a broader, theologically-rooted understanding of culture and conservatism. I am in fundamental agreement with Scott on these issues, and so I commend his latest book By the Rivers of Babylon: Worship in a Post-Christian Culture along with his other writings on religiousaffections.org.

Despite our fundamental agreements, Scott and I disagree about some matters in the central section of this book. He tends to favor a two kingdoms approach to culture and to take a dim view of Al Wolters’s reformational approach, whereas I have found great value in Wolters and have some serious reservations about the two-kingdoms approach. I thank Scott for having Kregel send me a review copy of By the Rivers of Babylon, and I hope this review serves not only to commend Scott’s book to others but also serves to foster greater agreement between us regarding these two differing approaches to culture.

By the Rivers of Babylon falls into three general sections. The first section, chapters 1-3 evaluates the missional church movement. The second section, chapters 4-7 survey different Christian approaches to culture and present Aniol’s own proposal. The third section, chapters 8-10, focuses on Christian gathered worship. Chapter 11 wraps up with implications and applications. These three areas—missions, culture, and worship—are often discussed in isolation of one another, but Aniol is wise to bring them together one’s view in one area will have implications for one’s view on others.

Missional Theology

The section on the missional church movement provides a brief history along with a summary of missional theology. In doing this survey Aniol recognizes the difficulty of defining missional. The term is used across a wide spectrum of people and organizations that range from theologically liberal to evangelical. The treatment is careful to specify who precisely is under consideration and focuses mainly on the evangelical side of the spectrum. Aniol notes three positive contributions of the missional church movement. First, evangelism is a prominent concern. Second, the missional church movement, in theory, views worship as an activity primarily of believers and rejects the evangelism-centric services of the church growth movement. Third, the missional church movement has recognized that western Christians now live in post-Christian societies. This affects how the church functions in society. It also provides an opportunity to reflect on how the Enlightenment shaped the church in less than desirable ways. Aniol then notes three negative aspects to the missional church movement. First, it takes its critique of the church of Christendom too far, thus rejecting too much of the inheritance that Christians have from past centuries. Second, it too often assumes that culture is neutral and that church practice can be easily adapted to a wide variety of differing cultural forms without loss. Third, it maintains a close connection between worship and evangelism that at times belies its critique of the church growth movement.

Aniol’s evaluation of the missional church movement seems balanced and fair, and I think his concerns are sound. A naïve view of cultural neutrality combined with a substantially negative view of prior church practice both impoverishes the church and leaves it up to cultural corruption. One of Anoil’s most telling observations relates to the difference between the tendencies among missional theologians and practitioners: “The theologians seem to emphasize the fact that culture shapes the church (especially harkening back to the ways Christendom and the Enlightenment shaped the church in the West) and warn against being shaped by the culture in ways that ‘might be compromising gospel truth.’ Most practitioners, on the other hand, tend to minimize the possibility that any culture could shape the gospel harmfully, instead emphasizing the need for the church to engage the culture and redeem it for the gospel” (34-35). If this is the case, then the practitioners are setting themselves up to repeat the errors of the past without reaping its benefits.

Since the missional church movement is concerned to contextualize the gospel within particular cultures, chapter 3 concludes with a survey of changing definitions of culture from culture as high culture to anthropological definitions that recognize that all people groups have a culture. Chapter 4 opens with a survey of the roots of the contextualization idea in the World Council of Churches. These discussions transition to the second part of the book, which examines how Christians are to understand and relate to culture.

Tensions in the Puritan View of Culture

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Puritanism and its Reformed-pietist successors constantly vacillated between whether they were rebuilding Christendom by making towns and eventually nations into virtually Christian societies, or whether they were advocating a pure, called out church. Edwards had strong commitments to both ideals. Heir to the Puritan establishment and part of a powerful ruling class, he was jealous of the privileges of ministerial prestige in town and province. He looked forward to a worldwide Reformed Christendom as the millennium approached.

Yet he was also a luminary among the international awakeners whose insistence in conversionism could—like earlier Puritanism—be disruptive of the standing order. The awakeners worked on the premise that many church members, including many clergy were unconverted. The implication seemed to be that true churches should be made up of true believers only. . . . Some had become Baptists, applying the logic of converts-only purity to both sacraments. It is easy to see why Edwards’ opponents would accuse him of moving toward separatism.

Edwards wanted rather to resolve the old conundrum without resorting to separatism. He would show how to maintain both the purity of the church and the establishment.

George M. Marsden, Jonathan Edwards: A Life (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003), 350-51

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.

Review of Mark Rogers Article on Luther, Mullins, and the Priesthood of the Beleiver

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Rogers, Mark. “A Dangerous Idea? Martin Luther, E. Y. Mullins, and the Priesthood of All Believers,” Westminster Theological Journal 72, no. 1 (Spring 2010): 119-134.

The title of this article is a play off the title of Alistair McGrath’s book, Christianity’s Dangerous Idea: The Protestant Revolution. McGrath argues that Luther’s teaching of the priesthood of the believer “had a ‘democratizing agenda'” that fostered democracy among Protestants. Rogers notes that “McGrath’s argument draws entirely on Luther’s pre-1522 writings” and that a fuller view of Luther’s view of the priesthood of all believers requires attention to his later writings as well.

In the first part of the article Rogers looks at Luther’s writings about the priesthood of the believer. He notes that Luther always held to this doctrine, “but after 1524, as he began to see the danger of uneducated and spiritually immature Christians making up their own theology, he emphasized accountability among official teachers, both to the orthodox fathers of the church and to spiritually nature lay people.” Also interesting in this section of the article was Rogers observation that Luther saw the priesthood of the believer as a communal ministry to one another rather than   in an entirely individualized sense.

In the latter part of the article Rogers compares Luther’s teaching with that of E. Y. Mullins, an early twentieth-century theologian whose view of the priesthood of the believer is probably the most widely held today. Rogers notes that with Luther Mullins rejected the priesthood of the Roman Catholic Church, maintained that the “Christian could have direct access to God without any human mediator,” and a affirmed a role for the Christian ministry.  Rogers points out three differences as well, “Mullins emphasized competent individualism whereas Luther focused on the interdependent priesthood of all Christians,” Mullins held to “the right private judgment” where Luther did not, and they differed in their view of church government.

Roger’s conclusion: “The Enlightenment, American democracy, modern subjectivism: these factors, rather than Luther’s doctrine of the universal priesthood, moved much of American evangelical theology in a radically democratic, egalitarian, and individualistic direction. The result is that the priesthood of all believers, a doctrine that should build Christ-centered, Bible-saturated, interdependent community in the church, has, in many pockets of evangelicalism, morphed into a teaching that encourages radical individualism and undermines the significance of the church’s life together. Luther’s doctrine was not perfect. Few evangelicals will want to return to a reliance on a state church system or limitations on religious liberty. But a proper understanding of Luther’s teaching and this doctrine’s development in history could help churches recover a more biblical, Christ-centered view of the priesthood of all believers, and thereby a more biblical community life within the church.”

What is Worship

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True worship  involves reverential human acts of submission and homage before the divine Sovereign in response to his gracious revelation of himself and in accord with his will.

Daniel I. Block, For the Glory of God: Recovering a Biblical Theology of Worship (Baker, 2014), 23.

Gathered worship is offering up to God the united, spiritual responses of which he alone is worthy.

Mark Minnick, 7 September 2014

Daniel Strange Reviews Kuyper’s Church as Institute and Organism Distinction

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Daniel Strange, “Rooted and Grounded? The Legitimacy of Abraham Kuyper’s Distinction between Church as Institute and Church as Organism, and Its Usefulness in Constructing an Evangelical Public Theology,” Themelios 40, no. 3 (2015): 430-445.

In this article Strange conducts a helpful survey of Kuyper’s church as institution / church as organism distinction. Strange notes that this distinction is used by many in discussions of public theology, but Kuyper’s precise understanding is often not in view. After surveying Kuyper, Strange raises a number of concerns. First, he notes that Kuyper moves from metaphors in Ephesians that are organic and institutional to a model of the church as institutional and organic. Exegetically, he finds this move untenable. Second, Strange seems hesitant to identify as church anything that is not gathered. He seems to understand the universal church as gathered in some sense in heaven. Third, he’s concerned that Kuyper privileged the organic church over the institutional church, especially in his later writings. Interestingly, he brings in Van Til’s critique of Kuyper’s view of common grace at this point in which Van Til thinks Kuyper too influenced by Plato and Kant in an emphasis on “abstract universals” (the organic church being more of an abstract universal than the institutional church), Nonetheless, Strange is willing to accept distinctions such as “church as church, and church as Christians” (Carson), “the public ministry of the church and the church as people scattered in their various vocations” (Horton), or “church ‘gathered’ and church ‘going’” (Strange’s own proposal).

This is a helpful survey and critique. Though not convinced of the second point of the critique, I find Strange’s other concerns to be compelling. Nonetheless, I still wonder if the organic/institution language may still retain value.

Galatians 3:26-27: Water Baptism or Spirit Baptism

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The majority of commentators throughout history understand 3:27 to refer to water baptism. But this results in some serious difficulties. Calvin states the difficulty well: “”But the argument, that, because they have been baptized, they have put on Christ, appears weak; for how far is baptism from being efficacious in all? Is it reasonable that the grace of the Holy Spirit should be so closely linked to an external symbol? Does not the uniform doctrine of Scripture, as well as experience, appear to confute this statement?”[1] In other words, it is obvious under anyone’s theology, that not all who are water baptized are united to Christ. But this verse says, ”For as many of you as were,” or “All who were . . . .”

There are a number of ways of handling this difficulty. Peter Lombard notes a view ascribed to Augustine indicated that those who were baptized under a false confession had their sins forgiven “at the very moment of baptism.” But those sins “return immediately after baptism.” Lombard rejects this view, and he says that Augustine only reported the view. He did not hold it.[2] Lombard himself suggested two resolutions. First, it may be that only “those who are baptized in Christ” have their sins forgiven. Or, Lombard suggested, it may be that the passage refers not to those who receive the sacrament alone but also the thing which it symbolizes.[3]

This latter explanation has remained popular. It was the explanation Calvin offered: “It is customary with Paul to treat of the sacrament in two points of view. When he is dealing with hypocrites . . . he then proclaims loudly the emptiness and worthlessness of the outward symbol. . . . When, on the other hand, he addresses beleviers, who make a proper use of the symbols, he then views them in connexion with the truth—which they represent.”[4]

Another approach is to argue that baptism is one part of “the complex of initiation events describing conversion.”[5] Some make baptism an essential part of receiving the benefit. Beasley-Murray claims, “If Paul were pressed to define the relationship of the two statements in v. 26-27, I cannot see how he could preserve the force of both sentences apart from affirming that baptism is the moment of faith in which the adoption is realized . . . which is the same as saying that in baptism faith receives Christ in whom the adoption is effected.”[6] Everett Ferguson similarly states, “If a distinction is to be made between the relation of faith and baptism to the blessings described, one might say that baptism is the time at which and faith is the reason why.”[7] F. F. Bruce notes the problem with this approach: “The question arises here: if Paul makes baptism the gateway to ‘being-in-Christ’, is he not attaching soteriological efficacy to a rite which in itself is as external or ‘material’ as circumcision?”[8] For this reason commentators often make qualifying comments such as these by Moo:

It was not, in and of itself, a means of salvation or incorporation into Christ (contra, e.g., Schlier 1989: 172; cf. Betz 1979: 187-88). Faith, which Paul repeatedly highlights in this passage and in his other letters, is the only means of coming into relationship with Jesus Christ. However, baptism is more than simply a symbol of that new relationship; it is the capstone of the process by which one is converted and initiated into the church. As such, Paul can appeal to baptism as ‘shorthand’ for the entire conversion experience.[9]

The difficulty with all of these qualifications is that they seem to evade what the words of the verse actually say. The verse says, “For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.” Moo says, “[Baptism] was not, in and of itself, a means of . . . incorporation into Christ (contra, e.g., Schlier . . .).” The verse says “For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.” But Lombard and Calvin say that is only true for those who receive the sacrament and the thing and not the sacrament alone. The qualifications are seeking to guard orthodox doctrine, but they seem to do so at the text’s expense.

But what if Paul is not referring to water baptism here? Bruce says, “It is difficult to suppose that readers would not have understood it as a statement about their initiatory baptism in water.” But is it so difficult? Both the Gospels and Acts anticipate and describe Spirit baptism.[10] The distinction between these two kinds of baptism is present in apostolic teaching. Distinction between the sacrament and the thing or the symbol and the reality, however, are later theological developments. It seems more likely for Paul’s original readers to have distinguished between water baptism and Spirit baptism than between the sacrament and the thing.

What is more, Spirit baptism makes good sense in this context. In this context baptism is the proof that “Jew and Gentile, slave and free, male and female” are one in Christ through faith. Water baptism cannot serve as such a proof because, as Hunn notes, “it proves only that the baptizer found [these distinctions] irrelevant.”[11] It does not provide a window into the mind of God. Spirit baptism, on the other hand, does provide such a proof. Indeed, this is Peter’s argument for accepting the Gentiles into the church. The Spirit baptized them just as he had baptized the Jews (Acts 11:15-17). Hunn also observes that Galatians 3:23-29 and 4:3-7 follow parallel lines of argumentation. In 3:27-28 the proof of sonship is baptism into Christ. In 4:6 the proof of sonship is the reception of the Spirit. This parallel indicates that Spirit baptism is in view in 3:27.[12] Finally, 1 Corinthians 12:13 forms a close parallel to Galatians 3:27. In both passages there is baptism into Christ. In both there is the indication that this the case whether the person is Jew or Gentile, slave or free. In 1 Corinthians 12:13 the baptism is clearly Spirit baptism: “For [in] one Spirit we were all baptized into one body.” This confirms that the baptism in view in Galatians 3:27 is Spirit baptism.

To this position Schreiner objects, “Robert H. Stein shows that the attempt to separate water baptism from Spirit baptism fails to understand that water baptism is part of the complex of initiation events describing conversion.”[13] But in taking this view there is no denial that water baptism was part of “the complex of initiation events.” Nor does this view dispute that water baptism is the symbol of Spirit baptism.[14] This view simply recognizes that as many as are baptized in the Spirit are united to Christ but that not all who are baptized in water are so united.

[1] John Calvin, Commentaries on the Epistles of Paul to the Galatians and Ephesians, trans. Willaim Pringle (1854; repr., Grand Rapids: Baker, 1999), 111.

[2] Peter Lombard, The Sentences, trans. Giulio Silano (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 2010), 19-20 (bk. 4, dist. 4, ch. 2, n. 4-5).

[3] Ibid., 21 (bk. 4, dist. 4, ch. 3).

[4] Calvin, 111.

[5] Thomas Schreiner, Galatians, ZECNT, 257, n. 8; cf. Douglas Moo, Galatians, BECNT, 251.

[6] G. R. Beasley-Murray, Baptism in the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1962), 151.

[7] Everett Ferguson, Baptism in the Early Church: History, Theology, and Liturgy in the First Five Centuries (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013), 147.

[8] F. F. Bruce, Galatians, NIGTC, 185.

[9] Moo,  251.

[10] Debbie Hunn, “The Baptism of Galatians 3:27: A Contextual Approach,” ExpTim 115 (2005): 373-74.

[11] Ibid, 373.

[12] Ibid., 374-75.

[13] Schreiner, 257, n. 8.

[14] I would dispute, however, that Spirit baptism happens at the time of water baptism. I would argue the reality precedes the symbol.