Just when I thought that this old post had gone into the cryogenic storage of the distant archives, it has been reanimated with new discussion. A number of issues are addressed, including that of whether a reference to the Eucharist in John 6 means that our salvation is at stake if we do not eat it (and what the word ‘salvation’ is actually assumed to mean in such a question).
The results are finally in. I voted for both Zizioulas and von Balthasar, so I am very happy to see that they occupy the top spots (I treated my selection of books as three books that I wanted to see on the shortlist, not as the three books that I wanted to see in the top positions; my votes were different — Zizioulas, von Balthasar and Hays, if I remember correctly).
There are a few things that make me really angry. People who throw around accusations and insinuations of heresy without bothering to get their facts straight first or without seeking to read those they criticize carefully and charitably rank very highly on this list. This particular quote from Dr. Fesko has been making the rounds of the blogosphere (see here, here and here):—
On core issues, such as the doctrine of the Trinity, Wright stumbles about. He defines the Holy Spirit in the following manner: ‘In Genesis 1.2, the spirit is God’s presence and power within creation, without God being identified with creation’ 1:169). Here Wright avoids pantheism (the idea that God is the creation), but leans toward modalism (the idea that God merely takes on different forms, rather than being three distinct persons). … While one cannot be sure what Wright’s personal views are on the Trinity, his statements reveal no concept of the personhood of the Holy Spirit. Given this absence, one suspects that Mormons or Jehovah’s Witnessess would have no problem with his definitions and descriptions of the Holy Spirit.
I have long ago ceased to be surprised at the bullshit that many Reformed writers spout on Wright and the FV. This is the sort of bullshit that you should expect from theologians who want to retain an appearance of competence, but lack the charity, honesty, commitment to the truth or self-discipline to make sure that they study very carefully before they open their mouths. The sheer quantity of bullshit that the present debates have produced is, it seems to me, very good proof that they are at least as much about power and maintaining the status quo as they are about substantial theological issues. There are theologians attempting to save face. Such accusations and insinuations are thrown out with ease and one will seldom if ever see them taken back or repented of. Nor will you see such accusations and insinuations really substantiated. The truth-value of such statements is not really important, precisely because they are attempts at bullshitting.
Sometimes it is good to call a spade a spade.
Over the last few days there has been a rather heated debate on John 6 raging in certain quarters of the blogosphere. Whilst the tone of the debate has generally left much to be desired, the interpretation of John 6 is a subject that very much interests me.
From what I gather, the debate was kicked off with this post from Paul Owen, entitled ‘Why Most Calvinists Misread John 6’. Owen argues that ‘Calvinists take a clearly Eucharistic passage and turn it into a treatise on predestination.’ It seems to me that this is quite an unfair and unjustified generalization, but this aside, I think that Owen does raise some valid concerns. There is a tendency in some circles of the Reformed world to treat passages such as Romans 9 and John 6 in a manner that is inattentive to the purposes of the passages in their contexts, largely reducing the passages to articulations of classic Reformed doctrines of soteriology.
The debate was then taken up by James White here. Kevin Johnson responded with this. White answered Johnson and Owen gave some additional thoughts here. Lee Johnson enters the debate here.
I am convinced that many of the points of Reformed soteriology can be argued to from such passages. However, the ease with which people see the Reformed doctrine of election in John 6, for example, concerns me. Reading John’s gospel closely, it is by no means obvious that John’s doctrine of election is the same thing as the Reformed doctrine. This is not to say that John disagrees with the Reformed doctrine of election, but rather to point out that, when John speaks of God’s choosing people or giving people to Christ, the Westminster Standards might not be our best guide for understanding what he means by such language. The Johannine doctrine of election is something that I have previously addressed in this post.
I have become increasingly convinced that bringing the questions of ‘Calvinist’/’Arminian’ debates to the text almost invariably produces much heat and little light. The questions of such debates are frequently the wrong ones and we would be far better off listening more closely to the text and allowing our theology to sit a bit more loosely to certain exegetical questions. Disputing common Reformed readings of John 6 should not be interpreted as an attack on the Reformed doctrine of election, for instance. However, a more careful reading of John 6 might lead us to question the way that the Reformed doctrine of election has been framed, challenging us to re-articulate the biblical concerns that underlie the doctrine in more biblical categories.
I have found that putting the questions of the debates of systematic theology to the side for a little while and trying to understand the questions that the Scriptures themselves raise and address leaves one with a very different perspective when one returns to those systematic questions. There was a time when I would have regarded the chief task of any interpretation of Romans 9 to be that of articulating the Reformed doctrine of election. Putting such questions to one side for a while and engaging with the text without them increasingly led me to the conviction that the text was trying to say much more than my original questions would allow it to say. Questioning the usefulness of my initial questions, I started to replace my original questions with new ones. I also began to wonder whether certain of the issues that had once seemed absolutely central to me were all that important within the context of Scripture itself.
One of the principal issues that is being raised in recent debates over the FV and NPP is that of the relationship between exegesis and theology. To what degree can the Reformed doctrine of justification survive a rereading of the book of Romans? To what extent does the Reformed doctrine of election rely upon particular readings of John 6, Ephesians 1 or Romans 9? Can one reject traditional Reformed readings of whole books of Scripture and still maintain Reformed theology? In many of the questions of the current debates the underlying question is the degree to which biblical language can be regarded as something different to confessional language, whilst still retaining the truth of confessional language on its level of discourse (I am also convinced that, despite the protest of some, there are substantial theological questiosn at stake as well). Is it possible to use the word ‘election’, for instance, in two distinct senses (biblical and confessional) without being disingenuous?
In my estimation, one of the great gains of the NPP and FV is the manner in which they have alerted us to the ‘otherness’ of biblical language. Theology and exegesis retain a lively dialogue, but they are far less likely to be confused or to be forced upon each other. Once one has distinguished between confessional and biblical language as different levels of discourse, exegetical questions can be left far more open, particular passages are far less likely to be over-burdened with theological freight and the text is far less likely to be domesticated and dominated by the theological system.
This discussion on the proper interpretation of 1 John 2:19 (do read the comments) is a good example of the manner in which a particular perceived relationship between the voice of the text and the theological system can lead to trouble in distinguishing the question of the validity of the doctrine of the visible/invisible Church distinction from the question of the proper interpretation of 1 John 2:19. I am convinced that we can reject traditional Reformed exegesis of the book of Romans, whilst retaining a Reformed doctrine of justification. The doctrine of justification does not stand or fall with a particular approach to the exegesis of the Pauline epistles.
Returning to John 6, I would like to see a thoughtful discussion of the passage, a discussion which gives far less weight to the traditional theological questions that have been traditionally associated with the passage. Whilst I am baffled at how anyone can read John 6 and not see clear references to the Eucharist (see the discussion here, particularly the comments), not everyone who fails to see such references holds to a low view of the Eucharist. For this reason I would like to leave the question of the interpretation of John 6 far more open and relax the connection between the passage and the questions of Eucharistic theology somewhat. My doctrine of the Eucharist does not stand or fall on an interpretation of John 6, just as my Christology does not stand and fall with a particular interpretation of the meaning of the title ‘Son of God’. Sometimes it would be nice if the systematic theologians would give exegetes a bit more room to breathe.
It can be incredibly frustrating to dialogue with people who tie theology and exegesis so closely together that any questioning of their exegesis is seen to be an assault on their theology. This is a common problem in a Reformed context, largely because people often know their confessions, catechisms and systematic theologies far better than they know their Bibles. The Bible is read in terms of the language, concerns and systems of the confessions and the systematic theologies, leaving little sense of the fact that Scripture does not speak Westminsterese or any other such Reformed dialect. I believe that huge swathes of traditional Reformed exegesis are problematic, largely as a result of such tendencies, but I fail to see why this need entail a complete overhaul of Reformed theology.
Good theology does not ensure good exegesis. In many places systematic theologians are the exegete’s worst enemy, as they have taken texts hostage as proofs for their systems. Whilst theology must always inform exegesis and vice versa, I hope that the current debates will result in an increased independence for exegesis from systematic theology. This increased independence will hopefully serve to create a more fruitful form of interdependence between the two disciplines.
‘Legalism’ is a term that has various shades of meaning. On some occasions, ‘legalism’ is a term used to refer to attempts to merit or earn one’s salvation by adherence to moral rules, on other occasions it can refer to the imposition of a burden of man-made requirements upon people, undermining their God-given freedom. These are not the only forms of legalism, however. Legalism also has to do with the way that we present the requirements of God to people.
Such legalism is particularly a problem within the context of the ethics of the New Covenant. Whilst I find many traditional Reformation ways of relating Law and Gospel deeply problematic, failing to pay sufficient attention to the underlying redemptive and covenant historical developments, I am nonetheless convinced that many of these approaches continue truth that we jettison at our peril.
We tend to adopt a certain form of ‘legalism’ with young children, which is important as part of their development. You tell a two year old to do one thing or not to do another; you don’t give them much choice in the matter, nor do you provide them with many reasons for the commandment. However, as the child grows up it is unhealthy to continue to adopt such an approach, as it prevents the child from developing mature moral agency.
There is a sort of analogy between this and the way in which biblical ethics works. At the very basic level there is a place for rules and commandments, but in many respects they are there to be transcended. As we enter into the New Covenant, part of what it means for us to no longer be under the Law is that we are freed to act as full moral agents by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Legalism, then, need not involve a lack of theological justification for a commandment, nor an attempt to merit salvation. There are legalistic ways of expressing perfectly biblical ethical norms. This is a deep failing in many areas of fundamentalism, where even biblical moral norms are repeatedly expressed in a legalistic way that is gospel-denying, undermining the freedom of the people of God (this legalism is often accompanied by the legalism of adding to or undermining God’s commandments, e.g. no dancing, going to the cinema, no wine in communion).
Such legalism does not recognize the authority that the Scriptures accord to the Christian as a creative and free moral subject. Giving a theological justification for commandments does tend to grant a degree of authority to the person who is being commanded as a moral subject. When the child is told to do something by his parents and asks them why, that question is all too often the sign of resistance and rebellion. However, there is a stage when the right to know ‘why’ must be acknowledged, not a concession to rebellion, but as a recognition of maturity. An adult who does not know why he abides by particular moral norms that his parents taught him is not equipped as a fully-fledged moral agent. New Covenant ethics gives us a lot of reasons why we ought to act in a particular way; it does not generally just command us to act in that way rather than others.
When you look at NT ethics there are a number of differences to be observed from OT ethics. NT ethics treats us, not as those who need to be brought under a law, but as those who are freed from such laws, freed to fulfil such laws, by the Spirit of Christ. Christian ethics has a particular form, which focuses on persuasion, rather than on prescription. Compare Galatians 5 and Exodus 20 as good examples of these contrasting approaches. NT ethics addresses as ‘grown-ups’ in Christ, those who are no longer under the guardianship of the Law.
This does not entail a denial of previous content, but it is a movement beyond the ethics of law, into an ethics of freedom. Whilst the Law gives freedom on one level, teaching us how to live aright, on another level it constrains. If the rhetoric of the Law is primarily prohibition and prescription (for our good, certainly, but prescription and prohibition nonetheless), the ethics of the New Covenant are primarily persuasion, exhortation and the like. NT ethics also gives the moral agent a lot more room for creativity in deciding the best way to fulfill God’s commandments.
NT ethics are not generally framed in the form of commandments. Rather, NT ethics involve a particular rhetorical form that recognizes the freedom that the believer has from the Law. NT ethics operates primarily according to a rhetoric of persuasion, rather than an rhetoric of command, something that can be seen in action in Philemon 8-9.
The Church’s chief duty is to cultivate an ethos, not to enforce an ethic. There is a difference. Whilst there are certain things that must always be condemned and ruled out within the Church, our primary duty is not to establish and enforce a long list of dos and don’ts, but to encourage, support and enable people in living out the sort of life that Christ has freed them to live.
The rhetorical form in which we address people with Christian ethics is a matter of great importance. As Oliver O’Donovan observes, ‘Christian ethics must arise from the gospel of Jesus Christ.’ Christian ethics must be presented as good and liberating news. Whilst many Reformed people are right to observe a manner in which the Old Covenant Law came as good news, there are key disanalogies to be maintained. The rhetorical form of the Law does not differ from the rhetorical form of Christian ethics for no reason. As Christians, rather than enjoining people to perform certain actions, we beseech them or seek to persuade them. There are occasions when dos and don’ts are appropriate, but if they become our primary way of relating Christian ethics to believe we are in danger of losing sight of the gospel.
A good example of the difference between the ethics of commandment and the ethics of persuasion can be seen in the way that we approach a person such as the pregnant rape victim who is contemplating an abortion. On the particular issue of a pregnant rape victim, it is one thing to say that the right thing for her to do in such a situation is to bear the child. It is another thing to say that to her. There is always a danger of creating a form of ethics that is more about adherence to a certain set of norms rather than a matter of empowering people to live in the freedom of the Spirit for which Christ has set them free.
This is why Christian biographies, models and support structures within the Christian Church can be so important when we face such issues. Rather than imposing a commandment upon the rape victim from without, they create a realm of freedom for the woman in which her choice for the way of Christ is made possible and positively encouraged, without being coerced in any way.
Leithart on Rosenstock-Huessy on Descartes, Marxism and Tribalism.
Bill Wilder (who made a helpful series of lectures on N.T. Wright a year or so back) writes a WTJ article on the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, arguing for a position that closely approximates to that of James Jordan. Wilder arrived at his position independently of Jordan, but cites Jordan favourably in the footnotes.
In Media Res has an interview with Jeff Meyers (whose new Ecclesiastes commentary, A Table in the Mist, I am presently enjoying) and the first part of an interview with Peter Leithart. The Leithart interview is on the subject of Postmodernism and Postmodernity. Having recently enjoyed his lecture series ‘Solomon Among the Postmoderns’ (available to purchase here), I would recommend Leithart’s treatment of postmodernity as a welcome change from many of the overly positive and negative treatments that one generally encounters.
R. Scott Clark — How We Got Here: The Roots of the Current Controversy Over Justification. Incredibly frustrating to read. The fact that misunderstandings of such magnitude persist many years into the FV debate makes one wonder if progress will ever be made. It is the introductory chapter of Covenant, Justification, and Pastoral Ministry, which can be purchased here.
With a respected source and enough repetition, the truth of many theological claims can be taken more or less for granted and seldom be subjected to close scrutiny. One such claim is Martyn Lloyd-Jones’ claim: “if your preaching of the gospel of God’s free grace in Jesus Christ does not provoke the charge from some of antinomianism you’re not preaching the gospel of the free grace of God in Jesus Christ.” Mark Horne addresses the meaning of Romans 6:1 here. I have long felt uncomfortable and have occasionally protested against the way that Romans 6:1ff. is employed as an answer to an argument for ‘antinomianism’.
Whilst Romans 6:1ff. can be used as a response to what some call ‘antinomianism’, we must be careful in using the verse in such a manner, as Paul’s point is not quite the same as our point. Terms such as ‘antinomianism’ are also unhelpful as they fail to distinguish between the moralism that we occasionally encounter in contemporary Christianity and the ‘Torah-ism’ that Paul was dealing with in the epistles. They are not the same thing and the confusion that results from conflating such things will have far-reaching effects on our reading of Paul.
Trevin Wax links to three quizzes here. I got 10/10/9. The order of the parables in Luke 15-16 was the question I dropped on the advanced quiz.
The Apostle Paul’s got nothing on the writers of some knitting patterns.
n. pl.
A miscellaneous collection of notes, remarks, or selections.
Alastair's Adversaria 