crconnect

Ascension Generosity

2011-06-05T15:40:00.000-07:00

Hugh MacLennan's Barometer Rising (1941) tells the story of the after-effects of the explosion of a munitions ship in Halifax harbor in 1917. Half of the city was destroyed. Having read the novel for grade nine literature, a week spent in Halifax some years ago was a splendid opportunity to see if there were any historical monuments referring to the event. We found it.

To this very day you can see a fragment of that explosion, embedded inside the entry to the oldest Anglican Church in Canada in the Halifax's downtown, and an "explosion window" inside its west wall. These are the accidental memorabilia for which the church is notable, as are the crypts within which contain the remains of illustrious British colonials. Like many other churches in North America, however, it also has affixed on pews, windows, and walls numerous name plates bearing constant witness to Mr. and Mrs. So and So's donations to this historic church. Ascension Day moved me to reflect on this curious juxtaposition of earthly generosity in a space dedicated to the the mighty acts of heaven.

Christ's ascension to the right hand of God the Father teaches us that heaven rules the earth, and that it does so through the merits of Jesus Christ. Christian worship space does so uniquely: its unique configuration and symbols bears constant testimony that Christ submits all things to the glory of God the Father, and that he will come again to judge the living and the dead. Name plates proclaiming human generosity in Christian worship space undermine that sovereignty, contradict the Word with words, deny heaven's decisive role and exalt earthly human deeds.

When Christ ascended into heaven, Paul writes the Ephesians (4:1-13), he gave gifts to the church to declare the glory of God and his Christ. Whether you have the opportunity to visit St. Paul's in downtown Halifax, or any other historic church, enjoy its testimonies to history. May the name plates on liturgical furniture move you to acknowledge that no one but God is gracious enough to deserve constant recognition for gifts we have received from him. Only heaven's generosity merits Name recognition in the church and in all the places that extend its ministry, including schools for training ministers of the Gospel.

WAITING FOR OUR RESURRECTION ON THE NEW EARTH

2011-03-29T07:49:00.000-07:00

“In a world of suffering, we cannot afford the luxury of waiting for the kingdom to come in some heaven light-years away.” Thus Sylvia Keesmaat begins her concluding paragraph in a recent Banner (“The Kingdom. On Earth or in Heaven?” April 2011).

Really?

The apostle Paul would have, if possible, completed Christ’s sufferings in his own body. That luxury was denied him; but suffering was not. Paul’s post-Easter Lenten suffering made him strong because of his own weakness (2 Cor. 12:8-10). To argue that Christians deny the suffering that is proper to their pilgrimage on this earth—awaiting the new earth in which righteousness dwells and where tears will not flow down the dirty faces of children rummaging through garbage dumps—undermines fundamental biblical theological themes: waiting for the rest that remains (Heb. 4:8-11), waiting for God to define the kairos of Christ’s coming again, waiting for the gift of an incorruptible body driven by a purified soul.

Waiting is the luxury our Christian pilgrimage cannot do without, especially in a world of suffering, because it places the focus on God. Keesmaat would place it on the human ability to change our condition. Just get rid of heaven.

Keesmaat is correct, of course, when she argues that the goal of the Christian life is a new earth. But erasing heaven from our activist souls would also rid us of everything that makes life on earth a joyful reality, especially in a world of suffering. Who defines the suffering? The justice? The solutions to poverty? Who determines the best economic system for sensitive human development? And, what is the role of the church in all this? According to Scripture, heaven alone, no matter what we think (Prov. 16:1-9).

An earth bereft of heaven’s authority will turn to norms defined by some ideological elite determined to shape the present form of joy and justice from the point of view of an already defined future. Is Jesus’ return from heaven the kairos moment of total transformation or is the kairos moment a conglomeration of human apperceptions of Christ’s presence “here” or “there” on the earth (Mark 13:21)?

Keesmaat writes: “Jesus made it clear that where he is, the kingdom brings healing, forgiveness, and hope.” Absolutely correct! According to the scriptures, and as confessed by Christians throughout the centuries, however, Jesus has ascended and sits at the right hand of God the Father. Thus, healing, forgiveness, and hope come from heaven, not from well-meaning human acts of mercy and compassion performed by people of all kinds of religious persuasions.

Faith in Christ’s cross and resurrection brings one to “the beginning” of an eternal joy which “I already now experience in my heart” so that “after this life I will have perfect blessedness such as no eye has seen, no ear has heard, no human heart has ever imagined: a blessedness in which to praise God eternally” (Lord’s Day 22, QA 58).

Through faith in Christ this too is the beginning of that joy, here—and to be continued in the presence of God on the new earth, in the New Jerusalem—for the grieving in El Salvador, the single mother in Philadelphia, and those kids scrounging a life on the garbage dumps.

In the meantime we have the luxury of self-denial, of waiting for Christ to bring the suffering—spiritual and physical—to an end.

Pick your Psalm Branch Sunday

2010-03-28T10:05:00.000-07:00

For members of the Christian Reformed Church in North America (CRCNA) Jos, Nigeria, has always meant one thing: missions. On March 17, 2010, the world learned that Jos is a place of conflict, a community where the Muslim descendants of Ishmael killed about 500 and burned 75 houses of the Christian descendants of Isaac. In other villages children and pregnant woman were among the dead. The sectarian violence has a long history.

Thousands of women marched with branches protesting the slaughter of Christian villagers in Jos. Will their government hear them? Will the Christian vice-president of Nigeria do anything? Can he stop this violence? Who will end this violence (Gen. 16:21)? Where is God in all this?

That first Palm Sunday was misunderstood by many. Humble, seated on the foal of a donkey, Jesus was anything but a conquering hero. Well, not like a conquering Roman general. Nevertheless, the road to his cross was paved with the laments and cries of distress of the people Christ came to save; the cross itself was a battlefield. Will the risen Christ, seated at the right hand of the God the Father Almighty, respond to the cries of his people in Jos, Darfur, or in parts of Indonesia where certain forces of Islam oppose Christianity with military and political power?

When brandishing branches in churches this Palm Sunday, may Nigerian Christians, should Nigerian Christians, sing Psalm 68:1 and 2? Should their ministers preach from Psalm 79? May the congregations recite all the verses of Psalm 137, ending with the scandalous: “O Daughter if Babylon, doomed to destruction, happy is he who repays you for what you have done to us—he who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks”? Are only some Psalms appropriate for Christian liturgy? Is any Psalm which petitions God to do justice by his might, right for Palm Sunday?

Fifth Sunday in Lent: Learning to Die

2010-03-21T05:43:00.000-07:00

“We are born to die. Not that death is the purpose of our being born, but we are born toward death, and in each of our lives the work of dying is already under way. The work of dying well is, in largest part, the work of living well. Most of us are at ease in discussing what makes for a good life, but we typically become tongue-tied and nervous when the discussion turns to a good death. AS children of a culture radically, even religiously, devoted to youth and heath, many find it incomprehensible, indeed offensive, that the word ‘good’ should in any way be associated with death. Death, it is thought, is an unmitigated evil, the very antithesis of all that is good.

“Death is to be warded off by exercise, by healthy habits, by medical advances. What cannot be halted can be delayed, and what cannot forever be delayed can be denied. But all our progress and all our protest notwithstanding, the mortality rate holds steady at 100 percent.

“Death is the most everyday of everyday things. It is not simply that thousands of people die everyday, that thousands will die this day, although that too is true. Death is the warp and woof of existence in the ordinary, the quotidian, the way things are. It is the horizon against which we get up in the morning and go to bed at night, and the next morning we awake to find the horizon has drawn one day closer. From the twelfth-century Enchiridion Leonis comes the nighttime prayer of children of all ages: ‘Now I lay me down to sleep’ I pray thee, Lord, my soul to keep; if I should die before I wake, I pray thee, Lord, my soul to take.’ Every going to sleep is a little death, a rehearsal for the real thing.”
John Richard Neuhaus, As I Lay Dying. Meditations upon Returning (New York: Basic, 2002), 3-4.

“But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. For as in Adam we all die, so in Christ will all be made alive.” (1 Cor. 15:20-22)

Fourth Sunday in Lent: Humility

2010-03-14T05:30:00.000-07:00

“Have the mind of Christ Jesus
Who, being in very nature God ,
did not consider equality with God something
to be grasped
but made himself nothing,
taking the very form of a servant.” (Phil 2:5-7)

Perform an act of humility this week.

Third Sunday in Lent: Following Jesus, after Easter

2010-03-07T05:19:00.000-08:00

“Then all the disciples deserted him and fled” (Matt. 26-025). There is something cruel in the way that this last phrase reiterates almost word for word the narrative of the initial scenes of vocation. ‘They left everything and followed him’ (Luke 5:11). In St. Luke’s account, after the arrest, those who accompanied Jesus are not called ‘disciples’ (mathetai); later they are called by another name (the Eleven and their companions), and in the Acts of the Apostles, the expression mathetai belongs to the Church.

“The disruption of the disciples at the moment of the Passion is of decisive importance. Between Christ and his first disciples yawns the unbridgeable abyss of the Cross. There the disciples cannot follow. The end of the earthly way of Jesus is the Cross; it is his specific vocation. He alone can submit to it, solitary, bearing the burden of all. The idea of following Jesus is not to be understood as if it were a question of imitating a great man such as we might take as a model for our own life, a Ghandi, a Socrates, for example; Christ and his disciples are not on the same plane. The Cross is unique. Even if the believer of today has in some way the possibility of walking the road that took Jesus to the Cross and resurrection it is still uniquely thanks to the grace of the One risen and glorified.

“It is only after Easter that the disciples are able to follow Jesus to the end, because following Christ reveals itself as being much more profound than a simple invitation of an ethical order, or something merely exterior.”

A Carthusian, The Call of Silent Love (Gracewing 2006), 51-52.

Second Sunday of Lent: The Habit of Faith

2010-02-27T07:05:00.000-08:00

“Just as the Christian has his moments when the clamour of this visible and audible world is so persistent and the whisper of the spiritual world so faint that faith and reason can hardly stick to their guns, so, as I well remember, the atheist too has his moments of shuddering misgiving, of an all but irresistible suspicion that old tales may after all be true, that something or someone from outside may at any moment break into his neat, explicable, mechanical universe.

“Believe in God and you will have to face hours when it seems obvious that this material world is the only reality; disbelieve in Him and you face must hours when this material world seems to shout at you that it is not all. No conviction, religious or irreligious, will, of itself, end once and for all this fifth-columnist in the soul. Only the practice of Faith resulting in the habit of Faith will gradually do that.”

C. S. Lewis, Christian Reflections (Eerdmans, 1995), 41-42.

First Sunday in Lent: Priorities

2010-02-21T17:07:00.000-08:00

There is a stage in a child’s life at which it cannot separate the religious from the merely festal character of Christmas or Easter. I have been told of a very small and very devout boy who was heard murmuring to himself on Easter morning a poem of his own composition which began “Chocolate eggs and Jesus risen.” This seems to me, for his age, both admirable poetry and admirable piety. But of course the time will soon come when such a child can no longer effortlessly and spontaneously enjoy that unity. He will become able to distinguish the spiritual from the ritual and festal aspect of Easter; chocolate eggs will no longer be sacramental. And once he has distinguished he must put one or the other first. If he puts the spiritual first he can still taste something of Easter in the chocolate eggs; if he puts the eggs first they will soon be no more than any other sweetmeat. They have taken on an independent, and therefore a soon withering, life.

C. S. Lewis, The Quotable Lewis, 497

Practical Christianity

2009-12-05T08:11:00.000-08:00

“Man is becoming as narrowly “practical” as the irrational animals. In lecturing to popular audiences I have repeatedly found it almost impossible to make them understand that I recommended Christianity because I thought its affirmations to be objectively true. They are simply not interested in the question of truth or falsehood. They only want to know if it will be comforting, or “inspiring,” or socially useful. (In English we have a peculiar difficulty here because in popular speech “believe in” has two meanings, (a) To accept as true, (b) To approve of—e.g., “I believe in trade.” Hence when an Englishman say he “believes in” or “does not believe in” Christianity, he may not be thinking about truth at all. Very often he is only telling us whether he approves or disapproves of the Church as a social institution.) Closely connected with this inhuman Practicality is an indifference to, and contempt of, dogma. The popular point of view is unconsciously syncretistic: it is widely believed that ‘all religions really mean the same thing.’”

C. S. Lewis, Present Concerns: Essays by C. S. Lewis, “Modern Man and His Categories of Thought,” 65. Cited in Wayne Martindale and Jerry Root, eds., The Quotable Lewis (Wheaton, 1989), 50.

“Belhar Reflections (3)”

2009-12-05T07:50:00.000-08:00

by
John Bolt

In the two previous reflections I summarized the CRC’s decision at its 2008 synod and took a close look at what it means for the church to declare that it is in statu confessionis, i.e. “when the truth of the gospel and Christian freedom are at stake.” As we now consider the first two sections of the Belhar, let us keep this important context in mind. (A friendly reminder: the text of the Belhar can be found on the CRCNA website at http://www.crcna.org/pages/belhar.cfm )

The first two articles are solid affirmations of biblical truth, beginning with an appropriate expression of faith in the triune God:

1. We believe in the triune God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, who gathers, protects and cares for the church through Word and Spirit. This, God has done since the beginning of the world and will do to the end.

The Belhar then bypasses the credal affirmations concerning Christ and jumps to what is usually considered the third part of the Creed, the affirmation of what the Holy Spirit is doing in the church:

2. We believe in one holy, universal Christian church, the communion of saints called from the entire human family.

As sub-points under this statement we find six further elaborations that are decidely Christological: (Don’t be satisfied with my summary here; check out the full statements.)
- Christ’s work of reconciliation is made manifest in the church
- Unity is both a gift and an obligation
- Unity must become visible so “that the world may believe that Christ has alreadyconquered sinful separation, enmity, and hatred between people and groups.”
- Unity must be manifested and active in a number of ways . . . “that we have one calling, are of one soul and one mind; have one God and Father, are filled with one Spirit, are baptized with one baptism, eat of one bread and drink of one cup, . . . work for one cause and share one hope. . . .”
- This unity can be established only in freedom and not under constraint.
And finally, the most important: That faith in Jesus Christ is the only condition for membership of this church.”

Observation: If this were all that the Belhar confessed; if the standard set here were maintained in the entire Confession; then, there would be little to object to. All this is a ringing endorsement of classic Christian, trinitarian doctrine with a focus on the church as a community of reconciliation.

Question: If we stopped right at this point, paid little attention to the historical context in which the Belhar was written, would the CRC and other Reformed and Presbyterian churches outside of South Africa itself feel led to adopt it as an addition Standard of Faith? To put it in other words, granted that it is an eloquent statement, is there anything here that warrants raising the Belhar to a status that puts it on par with the Heidleberg Catechism?

My question is somewhat rhetorical. I do not see anything here objectionable or anything, for that matter, that is even all that new. “The triune God gathers his church; Christ’s work of redemption is its foundation; we are called to become what we are in Christ.”

While I find nothing objectionable in statements 1 and 2, I do have some lingering questions, even before going to the “rejection of errors” that follows # 2. The fourth bullet point under #2 needs its own attention, quite apart from the intended application to the situation of apartheid.

Let me cite it in full here:

"We believe
that this unity of the people of God must be manifested and be active in a variety of ways: in that we love one another; that we experience, practice and pursue community with one another; that we are obligated to give ourselves willingly and joyfully to be of benefit and blessing to one another; that we share one faith, have one calling, are of one soul and one mind; have one God and Father, are filled with one Spirit, are baptized with one baptism, eat of one bread and drink of one cup, confess one name, are obedient to one Lord, work for one cause, and share one hope; together come to know the height and the breadth and the depth of the love of Christ; together are built up to the stature of Christ, to the new humanity; together know and bear one another’s burdens, thereby fulfilling the law of Christ that we need one another and upbuild one another, admonishing and comforting one another; that we suffer with one another for the sake of righteousness; pray together; together serve God in this world; and together fight against all which may threaten or hinder this unity (Phil. 2:1-5; 1 Cor. 12:4-31; John 13:1-17; 1 Cor. 1:10-13; Eph. 4:1-6; Eph. 3:14-20; 1 Cor. 10:16-17; 1 Cor. 11:17-34; Gal. 6:2; 2 Cor. 1:3-4);"

Remember here that this is a confession that was made necessary because the South African Reformed church was declared to be in statu confessionis, i.e. “when the truth of the gospel and Christian freedom are at stake.” If that is indeed the case then the confession places us in an impossible situation. Set aside here the questions of racial separation that rightly troubled the authors of the Confession; every church in the world is then in statu confessionis because there is no church in Christianity that truly and full expresses the unity described in the lengthy paragraph above.

One cannot have it both ways. If any failure to measure up to the description above means that the “truth of the gospel and Christian freedom are at stake,” then it is wrong to single out racial separation as a distinct instance of such sin. However, if all failures are such a sin, then no church can be said to proclaim the gospel any more and singling out the sin of racism is an instance of sinful pride against other Christians. That strikes me as a perfectionist position from which there is no return.

Question: Has our proper indignation about racial injustice and our passionate desire to speak out prophetically against it led us to adopt positions that are theologically as problematic as any theological justification for apartheid might be?

In my next reflection I am going to look at the “rejection of errors” that follow article 2. I want to ask whether the problem I have pointed to in this reflection is exacerbated by these repudiations.

Belhar Reflections (2)

2009-11-15T09:22:00.000-08:00

by John Bolt

In this reflection I want to explore the background to the Confession, in particular the circumstances in which it was written. The documents I will consider are all available on the CRCNA website and include the General Introduction from the Christian Reformed Church and the Reformed Church in America (http://www.crcna.org/pages/belhar_introduction.cfm); the Accompanying Letter by the Moderamen of the Uniting Reformed Church in Southern Africa [URCSA] (http://www.crcna.org/pages/belhar_letter.cfm); the brief statement “Why Consider” (http://www.crcna.org/pages/belhar_why.cfm ); and the history of the Belhar’s development (http://www.crcna.org/pages/belhar_history.cfm ).

For study purposes all these documents are important. My reason for considering them before looking at the actual text of the Belhar, beginning in the next installment, is that taking the Confession’s positive statements about unity, reconciliation and justice on their own, as abstract statements of general truth, would be to misunderstand them and perhaps even falsify them. We must know by whom, for whom, to whom and about what the Belhar was written before we can speak with confidence about its claims.

The Belhar was penned in what was perceived a time of crisis for the gospel in South Africa. The CRC/RCA Introduction speaks of “ . . . another critical issue that threatened the very core of the gospel message. The church and the society in which it ministered were torn by internal conflict, injustice, racism, poverty, and subjugation of the disenfranchised. From this crucible of suffering emerged the Belhar Confession, a biblically based doctrinal standard of justice, reconciliation, and unity.” The Moderamen’s Accompanying Letters speaks in no less stark terms:

"We are deeply conscious that moments of such seriousness can arise in the life of the Church that it may feel the need to confess its faith anew in the light of a specific situation. We are aware that such an act of confession is not lightly undertaken, but only if it is considered that the heart of the gospel is so threatened as to be at stake. In our judgment, the present church and political situation in our country and particularly within the Dutch Reformed church family calls for such a decision."

First question: When in the life of the church does a situation become so sinful that the very gospel itself is threatened? False teaching? (If so, all false teaching or only teaching on the cardinal points of the Christian faith. Hint: We disagree with the doctrine of Baptists on the important sacrament of baptism, but do we think that Baptists are “heretics” whose teaching threatens the gospel itself?) What about situations of suffering and persecution?

Here a look at the Belgic Confession’s statement about what the “false church” does (article 29) may be instructive. The language used in promotion of the Belhar was status confessionis; a church is said to be in statu confessionis “when the truth of the gospel and Christian freedom are at stake.” While it was the political ideology of the South African government that led the World Alliance of Reformed Churches in 1982 to declare that “Apartheid was a Heresy” and that a status confessionis existed in the country, the Reformed tradition does not use this language and the cited definition in the previous sentence is actually taken from the Lutheran Formula of Concord (Epitome, art. X, 6). This is itself rather interesting and reflects important differences between the two traditions when it comes to so-called “matters of indifference” (adiaphora). For the Reformed, matters of worship and church order are of such importance that they must be governed by the Word of God. For Lutherans, they are generally a matter of adiaphora except in times of suffering and persecution.

We believe, teach, and confess that in a time of persecution, when an unequivocal confession of the faith is demanded of us, we dare not yield to the opponents in such indifferent matters. . . . For in such a situation it is no longer indifferent matters that are at stake. The truth of the gospel and Christian freedom are at stake. The confirmation of open idolatry, as well as the protection of the weak in faith from offense, is at stake. In such matters we can make no concessions but must offer an unequivocal confession and suffer whatever God sends and permits the enemies of His Word to inflict on us. [Formula of Concord-Epitome, Article X,6].
Before considering the next question, let us pause to consider what is at stake here. The declaration that one is in statu confessionis is a confessional protest against a church that has become false, heterodox, in violation of Scripture and the church’s Confessions. It is a public declaration that one feels obligated to separate oneself from that false church. It is an accusation that is serious and solemn. Those who declare themselves to be in statu confessionis are obligated to spell out clearly where the body against which they level the charge of heterodoxy has departed from Scripture and the church’s confessions; the declaration arises from a common subscription to the church’s Confessions and the ordination vows of its office bearers.
Second question: Do the introductory materials and the text of the Belhar itself exlicitly and clearly reference the confessional doctrines that are denied by the Reformed Churches of South Africa?

In this connection, what do we make of the statement in the Accompanying Letter that “This confession is not aimed at specific people or groups of people or a church or churches. We proclaim it against a false doctrine, against an ideological distortion which threatens the gospel itself in our church and our country. Our heartfelt longing is that no one will identify himself with this objectionable doctrine and that all who have been wholly or partially blinded by it will turn themselves away from it.” Is this not curious? Does the Belhar then combat a “doctrine” that possibly no one believes? How does this threaten the gospel itself?

At this point, it is helpful to consider the actual “rejection of errors” in the Belhar itself (They are found at the conclusion of points 2, 3, and 4). Spend some time with them; ask yourself whether they articulate beliefs that you in fact hold and, if so, whether repentance on your part is called for.

In conclusion, a reminder from my first reflection of the purpose of our studying the Belhar: Simply look at the text and ask whether it speaks for you. After reading and reflecting, can you say, with joy and confidence, “This is what I believe!”? (And, of course, what doctrines I reject.)

A Prayer before Study

2009-09-07T09:15:00.000-07:00

Thomas Aquinas frequently recited this before he dictated, wrote, or preached.

Ineffable Creator,
Who, from the treasures of your wisdom,
has established three hierarchies of angels,
has arrayed them in marvelous order above the fiery heaven,
and has marshaled the regions of the universe with such artful skill,

You are proclaimed the true font of light and wisdom,
and the primal origin
raised beyond all high things.

Pour forth a ray of your brightness
into the darkened places of my mind;
disperse from my soul the twofold darkness into which I was born: sin and ignorance.

You make eloquent the tongues of infants.
Refine my speech
and pour forth upon my lips
the goodness of your blessing.

Grant to me
keenness of mind,
capacity to remember,
skill in learning,
subtlety to interpret,
and eloquence in speech.

May you
guide the beginning of my work,
direct its progress,
and bring it to completion.

You who are true God and true Man,
Who live and reign, world without end. Amen.

from Devoutly I Adore Thee. The Prayers and Hymns of St. Thomas Aquinas

So I'm thinking of joining a monastery...

2009-07-31T06:42:00.000-07:00

Reformed devotional writings attest to desires for full time devotion and single-minded attention to doing the Lord’s will. In that journey with God unique opportunities for deepening such devotion may cross our paths, and then . . . it’s time for some reflection. Such is the case of a recent graduate of Calvin Theological Seminary now writing her doctoral dissertation in Old Testament at the Free University of Amsterdam. The following article was first published in Catapult Magazine 7.6 (2008). Website: http://www.catapultmagazine.com/engaging-monasticism

So I'm thinking of joining a monastery . . .
by Brenda Heyink

"Joining a monastery was not exactly on my “what I want to do when I grow up” list. It was not even a possibility in my mind, nor in the minds of anyone around me. Reformed folks don't join monasteries. We get married and have lots of kids and work hard at our jobs (preferably jobs that use our unique gifts) so we can make a difference in the world. Perhaps that's a bit of an exaggeration, but joining a monastery seems to be antithetical to what most people understand to be the calling of a Reformed Christian.

"Yet, my thoughts on joining a monastery do somewhat fit in with (Reformed) Christianity as I've grown to know it and love it more. The church I went to while I was in seminary instilled in me a love for liturgy, following the Christian year closely and having Lord's Supper every week. During college, I was encouraged and challenged to pray with and for others daily; my desire to pray with others has only grown since then. Growing up, my parents instilled in me a desire not to live a selfish life but instead to make space in my life for others and share what I have. I have been encouraged by the church to live out my faith in all of what I say and do—and share it with people who have not yet heard. I've discovered that living in a Christian community provides an amazing and challenging way to combine all of these things.

"Even as much as joining the community of Oudezijds 100 provides amazing possibilities, there is still something distinctly odd about it. The community in Amsterdam is a bit different than what one expects when one hears the word “monastery.” There are still expectations of obedience, chastity and poverty, but these are modified so that members are held accountable in the community, they can still get married and have children, and they can still have regular jobs (in fact they'd like me to have one–it helps pay the bills). And as far as engaging with the world, the community's in the middle of the Red Light District and we interact with our neighborhood both in and outside of our doors. Sometimes it feels like we're a little too engaged with the world!

"As I already participate in this community, I am encouraged to explore how my gifts might fit with the gifts and needs in the community. I've been given structure to pray daily for the world, the church and the communities of which I am a part. I live with people whom I would never even have met before becoming part of the community—which is, as you might expect, sometimes a bit more of an adventure than I'd like! Through our prayers and laughter and shared meals and events, we pray that we may be a light and that we might share hope. And my wanting to be part of that seems to be a good desire that God has placed on my heart.

"Even with all of the wonderful possibilities involved in joining the community, I'm not sure yet whether I will fully join the community. It's not just that Sister Brenda (or Zuster Brenda, as they say in Dutch) has a bit of an odd ring to it. More so, like many of my generation, I'm not entirely sure what's next in my life. I know I'd like to teach the Old Testament and serve God, but where and how much are pretty large deciding factors. There are many people and communities in my life whom I love and who would be affected by my decision to join a monastery. As much as the thought of joining the community in Amsterdam fills me with joy, I know that joy would disappear without a sense that this is the place that God would have me best serve Him among the communities of which I am part. As I keep seriously considering this crazy notion of joining a monastery, I pray that no matter where I end up, all that I've learned from the community in Amsterdam about living wholly for God will continue to grow and be nourished."

Postscript
Some months ago Brenda decided to join the community. She now wears an apron, explaining “the apron is only for inside the community, and the title of zuster is also only in relation to the community - or official functions related to one's position in the community. The other community members were forewarning me of their own wonderful experiences of being labeled broeder Luc or zuster Albertine while taking a class or picking up kids from the local school - and thinking, yeah, great - now how do I explain that to the neighbours!? Or, how am I going to react when somebody yells hey, zuster Brenda, from across the canal in the middle of the red light district, which is bound to happen sooner or later?! Perhaps we've taken the names of broeder and zuster to keep us 'from thinking too highly of ourselves.'"

ACL

A New Confession for the CRC?

2009-07-04T17:49:00.000-07:00

Lent is over, only if you want it so. Limiting purposeful devotions to God for a short period of time can be helpful, especially if it leads to deeper commitment. Lent continues if you wish it so.

Our spiritual ancestors, Israel, spent 40 long years in the desert, let’s call it a divinely chosen and then enforced time of Lent. A life time of Lent. God came into their midst and they began to learn about life with God.

In its long Lenten walk with God the Christian church has confessed its faith and committed that faith to writing. Thus the Christian Reformed Church has subscribed to the Belgic Confession, the Heidelberg Catechism, and the Canons of Dort since its birth in 1857, having inherited them from their ancestors in the faith. Now the Synod of the CRC recommends the Belhar Confession to the churches for study in preparation for debate and vote on its approval as a fourth confession at the Synod of 2012.

John Bolt, professor of theology at Calvin Theological Seminary and advisor to the Synod of 2009, addressed Synod of 2009 on the Belhar recommendation. The text of his address follows:

"Mr. President
Thank you for the opportunity to raise a number of concerns I have about the recommendation before synod.

"I enthusiastically share the vision of the Belhar Confession in its powerful affirmations of section 2 [nature of the church], yet when I go to Section 4 [task of the church], I have concerns that the Belhar is an inadequate instrument for that purpose. Specifically, I fear that proposing making the Belhar a fourth confession for the CRC, in an honest desire for unity and reconciliation, could nonetheless have the tragically ironic consequence of creating discord and disunity where it does not now exist.

"Statements such as “God has revealed himself as the one who wishes to bring about justice and true peace on the earth” followed by “God . . . is in a special way the God of the destitute, the poor and the wronged,” and then applied to the church’s obligation to follow God in “standing by people in any kind of suffering and need, which implies, among other things, that the church must witness against and strive against any form of injustice” including “witnessing against all the powerful and privileged who selfishly seek their own interests and thus control and harm others”—are at one level of course true but they are partial truths and unable to serve as a full statement of the gospel. They beg the question about who the “poor” are in Scripture and to whom it applies today, and who decides who the real victims are. All too often it is simply assumed that demographic analysis of economies provides the answer and that God’s peace and justice for this world must be understood in categories of class and race. Here the wonderful affirmation of Section 2 that “true faith in Jesus Christ is the only condition for membership in this church” seems in tension with the more global and universal reach of the subsequent discussion of unity, reconciliation and justice in general. To heighten the issue here consider what happens if we substituted the evil of abortion for that of racism and said something along the lines of “God has a preferential option for the unborn and requires that his people be pro-life; that in the United States this is now a status confessionis requiring the church to stand with the unborn and vigorously oppose all those who tolerate or even promote the culture of death or who rationalize their support for politicians and political parties that do so. The troubling question I have for the delegates of synod—a question that we have not faced yet and need to in the next few years—why are we not making this a matter of status confessionis for us? I am as vigorously and passionately pro-life as I am anti-racist but also would oppose such a move for the CRC. Should that inconsistency however not bother us?

"You see what concerns me about Belhar is that the comments I just highlighted from section 4—when stated so starkly and without qualification—may be at odds with our Lord’s own teaching, not to mention the ecclesiology of the Reformed standards. Jesus did after all also give us those troubling statements in Luke 12:49-53 that he came to bring division and conflict between those who follow him and reject him. The biblical antithesis is not between the economically prosperous and disadvantaged—God is no respecter of persons; rich and poor are both sinners in need of redemption—nor is the justice and peace of Scripture simply the cessation of class, racial or national conflict. As synod this year and the CRC in the next three years considers the Belhar—with whatever proposed status—I believe that we need to ask whether or not it in fact significantly alters and perhaps even contradicts a number of categories that are currently an essential part of our doctrinal standards such as the marks of the church. And we need to ask how different standards relate to one another when there are competing or conflicting claims? (e.g. The PCUSA’s 1967 Confession and the Westminster Standards)

"Mr. President,
I believe that a great many questions remain about our understanding of what it means to be a confessional church and how our confessions of faith lead us to faithful discipleship in God’s world. These are weighty and I am not sure we have even begun to deal with them much less answer them. If we fail to deal with them we might reap the harvest that the 1986 accompanying letter to the Belhar prayed would not happen when it said: “Our prayer is that this act of confession will not place false stumbling blocks in the way and thereby cause and foster false divisions, but rather that it will be reconciling and uniting.” That concern should factor into the decision how synod deals with this matter this year and how the church will in the years to come. I pray for the Holy Spirit to grant the delegates of synod and our church courage, grace, and wisdom as we wrestle with this recommendation and its aftermath."

A Psalm for Easter

2009-04-12T05:47:00.000-07:00

I love the Lord, for he has heard my voice;
he heard my cry for mercy.
Because he turned his ear to me,
I will call on him as long as I live.

The cords of death entangled me,
the anguish of the grave came upon me;
I was overcome by trouble and sorrow.
Then I called on the name of the Lord:
“O Lord, save me!”

The Lord is gracious and righteous;
our God is full of compassion.
The Lord protects the simplehearted;
when I was in great need, he saved me.

Be at rest once more, O my soul,
for the Lord has been good to you.

For you, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling,
that I may walk before the Lord
in the land of the living.

Psalm 116:1-9 (NIV)

A Good Friday Psalm

2009-04-10T10:55:00.000-07:00

O Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger
or discipline me in your wrath.
Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am faint;
O Lord, heal me, for my bones are in agony.
My soul is in anguish.
How long, O Lord, how long?

Turn, O Lord, and deliver me;
save me because of your unfailing love.
No one remembers you when he is dead.
Who praises you from the grave?

I am worn out from groaning;
all night long I flood my bed with weeping
and drench my couch with tears.
My eyes grow weak with sorrow;
they fail because of all my foes.

Away from me, all you who do evil,
for the Lord has heard my weeping.
The Lord has heard my cry for mercy;
the Lord accepts my prayer.
All my enemies will be ashamed and dismayed;
they will turn back in sudden disgrace.

Psalm 6 (NIV)

Moving towards Easter in the Desert

2009-04-08T08:03:00.000-07:00

“'It is finished' . . . should be taken in the sense of consummatum est-it is consummated, fulfilled, brought to perfection. . . . This is the cross point in the Great Story, from the ‘In the beginning’ of creation to the last words of the Bible, ‘Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!’ At the cross point, everything is retrieved from the past and everything is anticipated from the future, and the cross is the point of entry to the heart of God from whom and for whom, quite simply, everything is.”
Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon, 187, 189.

Moving towards Easter in the Desert

2009-04-07T08:15:00.000-07:00

The Land of Sacrifice
“The desert . . . is the chosen land of sacrifice . . . . Instead of the garden of delights, the steppe; instead of leafy trees, the Cross. Man lost himself in the earthy paradise; he redeems himself in the wilderness. The Cross is the true tree of life.”
A Monk

“They who enter the way of life in faith bear the cross patiently. They who advance in hope bear the cross readily. They who are perfected in charity embrace the cross ardently.”
Bernard of Clairveuax

Moving towards Easter in the Desert

2009-04-06T07:41:00.000-07:00

“The experience of prayer in the desert shows that what we normally consider light is our own light, not God’s. The desert requires us to put out our little flame. Then, in the absence of human lights, our eyes will get used to the brightness of God’s light. Darkness there is the prerequisite for seeing. It then becomes futile to attempt to see God’s light with the aid of our light. All too readily we cry out ‘Lord, grant that I may see!’ But few of us seem prepared to receive the gift of sight through the painful process of becoming blind first.”

Alessandro Pronzato

Moving towards Easter in the Desert

2009-04-03T10:00:00.000-07:00

For the last weeks of Lent until Easter, we will provide daily reflections on the a desert journey. The citations come from John Moses, The Desert. An Anthology for Lent (Harrisburg, PA.: Morehouse, 1997).

Encountering God
"It is small advantage for eyes to see if the heart is blind.
The great world brims over with his glory, yet he may only dwell where a person chooses to give him entrance."
Abbot Nicholas

"The glory of God is a man or a woman who is truly alive."
Ireneaus

Moving towards Easter in the Deser

2009-04-02T13:01:00.001-07:00

For the last weeks of Lent until Easter, we will provide daily reflections on the a desert journey. The citations come from John Moses, The Desert. An Anthology for Lent (Harrisburg, PA.: Morehouse, 1997).

The Healing Power of God
“Prayer . . . is not a rejection of the present; it is rather a realisation that the present is not enough.”
Alessandro Pronzato

Moving towards Easter in the Desert

2009-04-01T09:26:00.001-07:00

For the last weeks of Lent until Easter, we will provide daily reflections on the a desert journey. The citations come from John Moses, The Desert. An Anthology for Lent (Harrisburg, PA.: Morehouse, 1997).

Humility
“Certain old men said, ‘If thou seest a young man ascending by his own will up to heaven catch him by the foot and throw him down upon the earth, for it is not expedient for him.”
The Desert Fathers

“Just as one cannot build a ship unless one has some nails, so it is impossible to be saved without humility.”
Abbess Syncletica

Moving towards Easter in the Desert

2009-03-31T11:09:00.001-07:00

“The disciple of a great old man was once attacked by lust. The old man, seeing it in his prayer, said to him, ‘Do you want me to ask God to relieve you of this battle?’ The other said, ‘Abba, I see that I am afflicted, but I see that this affliction is producing fruit in me; therefore ask God to give me endurance to bear it.’ And his Abba said to him, ‘Today I know you surpass me in perfection.”

“It is not because evil thoughts come to us that we are condemned, but only because we make use of the evil thoughts. It can happen that from these thoughts we suffer shipwreck, but it can also happen that because of them we may be crowned.”

A Desert Father

Moving towards Easter in the Desert

2009-03-30T10:20:00.000-07:00

“It was said that one of the Desert Fathers had prayed to the Lord and the Lord had taken away all his passions, so that he became impassible. And in this condition he went to one of the elders and said, ‘You see before you a man who is completely at rest and has no more temptations.’ The elder said, ‘Go and pray the Lord to command some struggle to be stirred up in you, for the soul is matured only in battles.’ And when the temptations started up again he did not pray that the struggle be taken away from him, but only said, ‘Lord, give me strength to get through the fight.’”

Abbot Pastor

Perseverance

“A hermit had persevered for thirty years. One day he said to himself, ‘I have now spent so many years here and I have had no vision and performed no miracle as did the Fathers who were monks before me.’ And he was tempted to go back into the world. Then he was told, ‘What miracle do you want to perform that could be more extraordinary than the patience and courage God has given you and which allowed you to persevere for so long.’?”

A Desert Father

Moving towards Easter in the Desert

2009-03-27T08:29:00.000-07:00

For the last weeks of Lent until Easter, we will provide daily reflections on the a desert journey.

Testing
“Some time later God tested Abraham.

“Then he reached out his hand and took the knife to slay his son. But the angel of the Lord called out from heaven . . . “Do not lay a hand on the boy. . . Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son.

“Abraham looked and there in a thicket he saw a ram caught by its horns. He went over and took the ram and sacrificed it as a burnt offering instead of his son. So Abraham called that place ‘The Lord will provide’.”

Genesis 22:1, 10, 13-14.

“At that time Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. As Jesus was coming out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove.

“And a voice came from heaven: ‘You are my son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.’ At once the Spirit sent him out into the desert, and he was in the desert forty days, being tempted by Satan.”

Mark 1:9-12

Moving towards Easter in the Desert

2009-03-26T10:07:00.000-07:00

“If some temptation arises in the place where you dwell in the desert, do not leave that place in time of temptation. For if you leave it then, no matter where you go, you will find the same temptation waiting for you.”

A Desert Father

“The desert cell is Hell’s cockpit, no less than a royal palace or the trader’s bazaar, a maiden’s thighs or the scholar’s desk.

“But what is played out there takes its costume from the hidden thought of each actor. Shape and symbol are invested with power from conjoined dread and desire, both drawn from a soul’s deepest wells.”

Derek Webster

Moving towards Easter in the Desert

2009-03-25T07:28:00.000-07:00

For the last weeks of Lent until Easter, we will provide daily reflections on the a desert journey. The citations come from John Moses, The Desert. An Anthology for Lent (Harrisburg, PA.: Morehouse, 1997).

Solitude

“When you retreat into yourself, you should stand before the Lord, and remain in His presence, not letting the eyes of the mind turn away from the Lord. This is the true wilderness—to stand face to face with the Lord.”
Theophan the Recluse

“Men and women of solitude have discovered that the only way to be truly present to the world is to live in the presence of God.”
Alessandro Prozato

“I have often said that the sole cause of our unhappiness is that we do not know how to stay quietly in our room.”
Blaise Pascal

Moving towards Easter in the Desert

2009-03-24T08:37:00.001-07:00

“The desert is an arid, scorching, frightening place where everything portends death. But at the same time it is also a place of rest, gentleness and life.

“In the desert you find friendliness and hostility, anguish and joy, sorrow and exultation, trial and triumph. The desert is the land of malediction and the land of benediction. The desert can be hard and merciless. You might die of thirst there, but if it rains you could be drowned. In the desert nature manifests itself in its extremes: prodigal fertility and cruel barrennness. We wait for years and do not get even a drop of rain. Then, without warning, the rain comes down in torrents; and, with frightening speed, the wadis fill up and overflow, sweeping everything before them. You might come upon an oasis where there is life and vegetation. And a little farther on you could find yourself on a desolate patch where you fear your sanity.

“The desert can be tomb and cradle, wasteland and garden, death and resurrection, hell and heaven.

“Thus in the desert you will find that God is simultaneously present and absent, proximate and remote, visible and invisible, manifest and hidden. He can receive you with great tenderness and then abandon you on the cross of loneliness. He consoles you and torments you at the same time. He heals you only to wound you again. He may speak to you today and ignore you tomorrow.

“The desert does not delude and least of all does the desert delude those who accept it in its two-sided reality of life and death, presence and absence. Nor will they be deceived by God who calls them to the desert. God never abandons us.

“The desert is a good teacher. It is a place where we do not die of thirst. It is a place where we rediscover the roots of our existence. Once we grasp this lesson, we realise that the physical desert is not necessary to lead the life of a hermit. It then becomes pointless to go in search of a desert on the globe. You can find your desert in a corner of your house, on a motorway, in a square, in a crowded street. But you must first renounce the slavery of illusions, refuse the blackmail of pressure, resist the glitter of appearances, repudiate the domination of activity, reject the dictatorship of hypocrisy. Then the desert becomes a place where you do not go out to see the sand blowing in the wind but the Spirit waiting to make his dwelling within you.”

Alessandro Pronzato

Moving towards Easter in the Desert

2009-03-23T11:08:00.000-07:00

Setting out on the Journey
Monday, 23 March, 2009

“What really matters is that I have taken the fundamental decision to begin the journey.”

“The desert is the threshold to the meeting ground of God and man. It is the scene of the exodus. You do not settle there, you pass through. One then ventures on to these tracks because one is driven by the Spirit towards the Promised Land. But it is only promised to those who are able to chew sand for forty years without doubting their invitation to the feast in the end.”

Alessandro Pronzato

Recovering the Bible

2009-02-24T09:00:00.000-08:00

by R.R. Reno

The Bible contains a verse that scholars like to quote. It is from the book of Ecclesiastes: “Of making many books there is no end, and much study is weariness of the flesh” (12:12). In context it serves as a warning against the vain illusion that we can study our way to the Kingdom of God. The spiritual life is not a Kaplan course, nor is it like getting tenure after piling up a good record of scholarly publication.

Of late, I’ve come to see this verse as a wry moment when the Bible makes a prophecy about itself, foreseeing the vast number of commentaries on the sacred pages of scripture. Over the last few years I have been wearying myself as the general editor of an impossibly ambitious project, the Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible. Working with authors on the first dozen or so commentaries, and also toiling on my own effort to write about Genesis, the thought has come to me many times: “Of the making of commentaries on the Bible there is no end, and to be honest, Lord, I’m getting pretty weary.”

Wearying, yes, but often profoundly rewarding, and certainly necessary. From the very outset, faith in Jesus took the form of scriptural commentary. The gospels are punctuated with the refrain: “that the Scriptures might be fulfilled.” The Sermon on the Mount is a commentary on the revelation to Moses on Mount Sinai. St. Stephen’s speech in the Acts of the Apostles provides a summary interpretation of the Old Testament as a whole. St. Paul’s letters are chock full of biblical citations, allusions, and expositions.

Not surprisingly, biblical commentary played a central role in the life of the Church. The Fathers wrote commentaries, far more in fact than treatises on doctrinal topics. The great medieval theologians wrote commentaries. Martin Luther and John Calvin wrote commentaries, as did Cajetan and Robert Bellarmine. For more than a thousand years it was simply assumed than an exegete and a theologian were pretty much synonyms. After all, you need to know what the Bible says in order to develop an accurate account of God and salvation—and you need to study classical doctrine in order to give a clear and cogent account of what the scripture says.

These days this unity can no long be presumed. Over the last two hundred years, the work of biblical interpretation has rotated away from the churchly business of teaching doctrine. Bible scholars have built their own independent intellectual project, one that excludes Church doctrine from the process of interpretation as a matter of principle. The job of the modern historical exegete is to scientifically determine what a particular portion of the Bible meant when it was composed, not how it should be read by the Church today.

We can point to many remarkable intellectual achievements in modern biblical scholarship, some of service to the Church. But on the whole the results have been disastrous. The “meaning in the original context” approach has made the Old Testament into the Hebrew Bible. To read forward to fulfillment in Christ is the unforgivable sin of modern biblical scholarship. The New Testament is rich with the vocabulary of Christian piety. St. Paul’s letters are themselves already theological. But even in New Testament scholarship, the requirement of original context invariably drives a wedge between Scripture and the great Trinitarian and Christological doctrines of the early Church. Ask a biblical scholar, “Does the New Testament teach the doctrine of the Trinity?” Odds are overwhelming that the answer will be “no.”

As a theology professor, it is easy for me to point out the specks in the eyes of the biblical scholars. (The “low Christology” and “high Christology” taxonomy is a particularly amusing and pointless exercise.) But there are plenty of beams in the eyes of theologians.

A popular nineteenth-century Catholic theological textbook for seminarians illustrates. Doctrine is described as “materially complete,” “formally perfect,” and capable of universal application. In contrast, the historical nature of the biblical material means that its truths are “expressed in the metaphorical language of the East.” This makes Scripture “unfit for the general use of people.” Better, then, to base theology on succinct and authoritative Church doctrine.

There is nothing uniquely Catholic about the theological shift from exegesis to doctrinal analysis. In his influential systematic theology, Friedrich Schleiermacher sets aside the Old Testament. It’s spiritual character, he argues, is essentially Jewish rather than Christian. It is, shall we say, the Hebrew Bible, not the Christian one. But even the New Testament itself does not provide a firm basis, and therefore he lays down a basic principle: “The confessional documents of the evangelical church, collectively, are, as it were, given prior place to the New Testament Scriptures themselves.”

We should not be terribly surprised by the tendency to push Scripture into the background. Theologians are in the business of making arguments, and the rough and ready variety of Scripture can seem unpleasantly unstable. We want sharply drawn truth-claims to feed into our syllogisms. We find conceptual clarity in doctrine, and the upshot is a temptation to neglect Scripture. Furthermore, in the abstract realm of concepts we can formulate pallid, pseudo-orthodox notions such as “Incarnational worldview,” or “sacramental imagination,” or “Trinitarian ethos,” and thus convince ourselves that our capitulations to the latest intellectual fashions are really grand theological achievements.

Bible without theology, and theology without Bible: It’s understandable, perhaps, but untenable, and over the long term disastrous.

The Church can only claim to be the Church if it teaches what the Bible proclaims. This is not a uniquely Protestant principle. Vatican I affirms: “The meaning of Holy Scripture must be held to be the true one, which the Holy Mother Church held and holds.” In other words, just like Protestantism, Catholicism is founded on the belief that the content of the Bible and the teachings of the Church are fundamentally in accord.

It is a simple fact that the current academic configuration of biblical study and theological education rarely encourages us to coordinate exegesis with doctrine. To my mind, we have reached a crisis with respect to the Old Testament. To appeal to St. Paul for guidance while writing a commentary on Genesis is taboo among biblical scholars.

When I hatched the plan for the Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible, I decided to recruit theology professors, not biblical scholars as writers. My idea was simple. Those of us trained to analyze and defend Church doctrine will get many things wrong, but at least we will do what was once the norm: bring the theological traditions of the Church to bear on the biblical text.

Obviously, this requires us to assume that Church dogma clarifies rather than obscures the true meaning of Scripture. As I wrote in the general preface for the series, “the Nicene tradition, in all its diversity and controversy, provides the proper basis for the interpretation of the Bible as Christian Scripture.”

Angus Paddison wryly noted in a review of one of the early volumes that a presumption in favor of the exegetical value of dogma “is unlikely to generate universal sympathy amongst biblical scholars.” I would have said “very unlikely.” In fact, I said as much to many friends over the last few years. The biblical guild, I predicted, would hate the idea of unauthorized individuals presuming upon their turf.

I was largely right. Eight volumes have appeared, and in the main biblical scholars have shown themselves opposed to—and often angry about—the series. In a review, Pauline Viviano denounced the “spurious typologies” in Peter Leithart’s commentary on 1 and 2 Kings, ending with the stern admonition that “commentaries on the Bible should be left to biblical scholars.” No trespassing!

Philip Cary’s commentary on Jonah apparently disturbed another biblical scholar, Barbara Green. “The book,” she wrote, “features Jesus on virtually every page.” Shocking, simply shocking. This clearly needs to be brought to the attention of the proper authorities.

Luke Timothy Johnson took Stanley Hauerwas to task for making the Gospel of Matthew sound like Hauerwas. Funny, I’ve found the Martin Luther’s commentaries to sound a lot like Luther. But that was before we had the advantage of modern biblical scholars such as Luke Timothy Johnson. He can give us scientific interpretations and help us see that the Church’s teaching on, say, sexual morality, is unscriptural. No Luke Timothy Johnson speaking there. “Just the text, M’am, nothin’ but the text.”

I would have been surprised if the biblical scholars were not antagonistic. After all, the Brazos Commentary on the Bible, as well as other efforts such as the Two Horizons series and the Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture, emerged because of a widespread sense that modern historical–critical study of the Bible has run its course. As an academic project it has a modest future in department of ancient Near Eastern history or ancient Mediterranean studies. It is a plain fact, however, that today the Church does not need to know more (or want to know more) about ancient Israelite religion or the Q hypothesis. We need (and want) to know how Leviticus and Proverbs and Job and the Gospel of John and Letter to the Hebrews can shape our Christian faith.

So I continue to toil and weary myself in the making of more books about the Good Book. The academic Berlin Wall between the study of the Bible and doctrines of the Church must be breached. And who knows, maybe Christ will be on nearly every page. I hope so.

R.R. Reno is an associate professor of theology at Creighton University and features editor at First Things.

Lent and self-esteem

2009-02-21T09:53:00.000-08:00

Fasting of some kind will soon become popular again, for Lent is upon us. For a culture soaked in self-esteem one wonders how fasting is understood, what is expected from this brief season of self denial. Can this fast cultivate authentic compassion for others in a society dedicated to “my passion”? Belden C. Lane writes:

“[the] idea of compassion as the fruit of indifference is difficult to grasp in our contemporary culture. Popular conceptions of love are so often limited to sentimental feelings and delusions of self-denying grandeur. As a result, we often fail to recognize the extent to which all this disguises a highly manipulative bid for our own self-aggrandizement. We are entirely too needy, too anxious about the fragility of our own self-worth, to be free to love. We have missed the desert truth that, ironically, only those who no longer care can be truly loving. Love at its best, as Dostoyevsky knew, is wholly disinterested—‘a harsh and dreadful thing.’”

“Having metaphorically died to the world and all its seductions, [these] . . . desert athletes . . . were far less subject to outside pressures of status, power, money, and knowledge.”

“No threat is as dangerous as a people wholly set free from the value structures of this world.”

Belden C. Lane, “Desert Catechesis: The Landscape and Theology of Early Christian Monasticism,” Anglican Theological Review 75.3 (1993): 308-09, 310.

Four Lanes on the Emerging Church Highway

2009-02-05T06:50:00.000-08:00

Contemporary church life is beset by calls for change and transformation. But the variety is enormous and can be confusing. So-called “emerging churches” represent one such trend. Below some helpful distinctions by from Mark Driscoll (“Navigating the Emerging Church,” Christian Research Journal 31.4 [2008]: 12-21), himself part of that movement.

Emerging Evangelicals, represented by pastors and authors such Chris Seay, Dan Kimball, Rick McKinley, John Burke, and Donald Miller: “are interested in updating worship styles, preaching styles, and church leadership structures so as to be relevant to postmodern-minded people. They do not place as much emphasis as do other ‘lanes’ on actively engaging in their local culture and loving and serving people as the church. They are divided over such things as the role of women in ministry, the proper mode of baptism, and charismatic gifts. . . . The common critique of Emerging Evangelicals is that they are doing little more than cool church for hip young Christians.”

House Church Evangelicals, represented by house church leaders such as Neil Cole and Shane Claiborne among others, “are dissatisfied with current forms of church (e.g., traditional, seeker-sensitive, purpose-driven, contemporary). They bolster criticism of traditional church by noting that America is becoming less Christian, and Christians are not living lives that are markedly different from non-Christians, thereby proving that current forms church forms have failed to create life transformation. . . . The common critique of House Church Evangelicals is that they are collecting disgruntled Christians who are overreacting to the megachurch trend and advocating a house church trend that works well in some cultures but has not proven effective in Western nations.”

Emerging Reformers, see themselves as linked to the traditions established by traditional teachers such as Augustine, Calvin, the Puritans, Jonathan Edwards and Charles Spurgeon, contemporary theologians such as James Packer and John Stott. They look to contemporaries such as John Piper, David Carson and Tim Keller. Driscoll locates himself in this “lane.” The common critique of this lane “is that they are merely repackaging tired Reformed fundamentalism, . . . that they are outdated in their understanding of gender roles, too narrow in their theological convictions, and do not fir into the category of the emerging church at all.”

Emergent Liberals, represented by such as Tony Jones, Doug Pagitt and “most visibly” by Brian McClaren and Rob Bell, “range form the theological fringe of orthodoxy to heresy that crosses the line by critiquing key evangelical doctrines, such as the Bible as authoritative divine revelation, God as Trinity, the sinfulness of human nature, the deity of Jesus Christ, Jesus’ death in our place to pay the penalty for our sins on the cross, the exclusivity of Jesus for salvation the sinfulness of homosexuality and other sex outside of heterosexual marriage, and the conscious, eternal torments of hell. . . The common critique of Emergent Liberals is that they are recycling the liberal doctrinal debates of a previous generation and are not seeing significant conversion growth, but rather merely gathering disgruntled Christians and people intrigued by false doctrine.”

Driscoll then goes on at length to describe the Emergent Liberals through their most prominent leaders Brian McLaren and Rob Bell. Driscoll concludes this discussion as follows: “It seems inevitable, though I am no prophet, that the Emergent Liberal lane of the emerging church will continue to drift away from a discussion about how to contextualize timeless Christian truth in timely cultural ways to an interfaith dialogue with less and less distinction between the religions of the world and the deity of Christ.”

THE MORE THINGS CHANGE . . .

2009-01-31T10:42:00.000-08:00

“The last I heard, both of them were going down for at least twenty-five years. But who cares? As players in the building and the deconstruction of empires, they’re mere ciphers. Jefferson in his letters to John Adams foretold their advent long ago. Perhaps the greater problem is their constituency. A confidence man chooses only one kind of person as his victim—some one who, of his own volition, invites deception into his life. Eventually we catch on to charlatans and manipulators and ostracize or lock them away. But unlike the fifth act of an Elizabethan tragedy, order is seldom reimposed on the world. The faces of the actors may change, but the story is ongoing, and neither religion nor government has ever rid the world of sin or snake oil.”

Dave Robicheaux, in James Lee Burke’s Swan Peak, 401-402.

Christianity and Islam

2008-12-30T07:42:00.000-08:00

“The question to be asked, then, is whether, face to face with Islam, Christians will be able to sustain, rebuild, and create strong and resilient communities that provide institutional anchorage for the faith to endure and flourish. Will they have the imagination to form the spiritual architecture of the societies of which they are a part? This is a task for which Christianity is particularly well suited. It has a much longer lineage than Islam, it has taken many different cultural forms in the course of its history, and it has passed through the fires of modernity. It has a deeper and more coherent relation to its own tradition, including the cultural patrimony of classical antiquity. And it commands the intellectual resources to understand and engage other religious traditions as well as to provide moral inspiration for secular societies.

“Unlike Islam, Christianity began as a community distinct from the body politic, and for three hundred years it existed independently of political authority. This early history has never been forgotten. Even in the time of Christian hegemony in the West, during the age of Charlemagne, Abbot Wala of Corbie insisted that the Church constituted a parallel sovereignty. The king, he said, should have public properties for the maintenance of his army, and the Church should have ‘church properties, almost like a second public domain.’

“Augustine’s metaphor for the new life in Christ was not that of an individual’s being born again but that of becoming part of a city with its own form of governance. ‘Happy the people whose God us the Lord,’ wrote the psalmist. Though some may eschew the term, in the decades to come the great challenge for Christians will be to fashion, within the cultural and political conditions of the twenty-first century, a new kind of Christendom.”

-Robert Louis Wilken, “Christianity Face to Face with Islam,” First Things (Jan 2009), 26.

New Year, Old Year
We like to believe that January 1 brings new opportunities. So we make resolutions, or treat them as a game at New Year’s Eve gatherings. Most of us know, however, that there is nothing new under the sun, that the struggle to discard old burdens and create space for newness in 2008 will continue in 2009, and that we will likely fail, again. That too is old news for the Christian; dying to sin and rising to newness of life is our daily bread as Christ’s disciples.

As the years roll by, however, socio-political events and cultural undertows create patterns of thought and action that warrant change. Will any of the following resolutions find themselves on your list?

1. Ask for kneeling benches to be attached to the pews, if your church is redesigning its worship area.

2. Practice honest prayer through John Baillie’s A Litany of Daily Prayer in March and September.

3. Support or recommend one person for a position because she or he is qualified. Resist politically correct reasoning.

4. When leading the congregation in prayer, begin, “Let us pray,” not, “Please join ME in prayer.”

5. Read one book or article about Islam. Suggestions: Sinclair Lewis, What Went Wrong? The Clash between Islam and Modernity in the Middle East (Perennial, 2002), or Robert Louis Wilken, “Christianity Face to Face with Islam,” First Things (Jan 2009), 19-26.

6. Practice Lent during Advent.

7. Answer the question: Can a post-modern, missional theology prepare the church to engage Islam?

8. Befriend a marginalized person in your church or community.

Please add your own suggestions in the comments.
ACL

Pentecost, the Incarnation, and Diversity

2008-12-03T08:29:00.000-08:00

Although far apart on the liturgical calendar, Pentecost and Christmas belong together. On Pentecost the Word Incarnate, seated at the right hand of the Almighty, poured out the Holy Spirit on a handful of disciples. After that event, God’s people were never the same. For the first time in the history of God with his people, Gentiles–red, and yellow, black and white non-Jews–became the object of God’s special attention. Not that they were ever out of consideration. Remember Seth, Noah, Rahab, Ruth and Naaman? And then there was Abram, who was a Semite, but not “Jewish,” when God called him to abandon kith and kin.

From Babel to Pentecost

At Babel the nations sought to build the city that would use heaven to save them from the corruption that filled the earth. But God scattered the nations–red and yellow, black and white–over the earth and. He forced them to continue an aimless wandering begun by Adam, Eve, and Cain. In their wandering these nations achieved enormous knowledge in mathematics, urban and agrarian development, architecture, medicine, music, Babylon and Ur preserved this knowledge in great libraries. From this sophisticated culture God rescued Abram and Sarah to become the parents of a nation not born by human will (Gen. 5; 11:1-26), but by the power of God.

That special nation would become known as Jews (after Judah, Jacob’s [Israel] son), chosen by God to live apart from the nations (Gentiles). Nevertheless, from the very beginning God told Abram that “all the families of the earth” (Gentiles) would be blessed through “his seed.” Thus, wherever Abraham went, and whatever God did with his descendants, the Gentiles were never out of consideration. They were, so to speak, in Abraham’s back pocket, waiting for God’s time to deal with them.

That time, the apostle Paul said, came in Jesus Christ. He was the seed God spoke about to Abram (Gal. 3:16) who destroyed the wall between Jews and Gentiles (Eph. 2:11-22). He also poured out the Spirit at Pentecost so that the nations heard the Gospel proclaimed by Peter.

Pentecost, then, was not a move from a uni-cultural to multi-cultural people of God, nor from one ethnicity to many, not even from Jewishness to whiteness. Rather, it was a move from a focus on God’s Jewish people to an inclusion of the Gentiles into the root planted by God with Abram (Rom. 11:17-21). At Pentecost massive numbers of Gentiles began to be grafted onto this root. At Pentecost peoples from all nations were amazed to hear Peter’s sermon in their own languages, the very thing that divided them at Babel. It was not one language, but one Word that was understood by all nations–red and yellow, black and white–by the power of the Holy Spirit.

That Pentecost was not a move from one to many ethnicities, but from many into one ethnicity is clear from Paul’s declaration that Christian Gentiles would be engrafted into the root God planted through Abram. Abram’s descendants are not merely another ethnicity (Rom. 9:3-5) among many others. It is the only ethnicity whose Word saves the nations from the corruption that threatens. Abraham’s Gentiles descendants are not Jewish, but through Christ they inherit the promises of God to Abraham (Gal. 3:29). All Abraham’s descendants through Christ have a heavenly citizenship.

Christmas and diversity

Christ’s coming, then, is not a move into diversity, but a unifying by the Word, of all descendants of Adam and Eve the Spirit entices into the body of Christ, no matter their culture, language, or skin color.

For more than 2000 Advents and Christmases, the Gentile Christian Church has sung: “Oh come, oh come, Immanuel, and ransom captive Israel, that mourns in lonely exile here, until the Son of God appear.” Of whom do we sing? Who is the captive Israel? Gentile believers from Iraq and Darfur? Mega-church attenders in Southern California or Guatemala? Because Gentile believers have not yet arrived at home, and will only arrive when the heavenly Jerusalem descends on a new earth (Rev. 21), this truly is our song. James speaks to the believers scattered among the nations (James 1:1).

But what of the descendants of Esther and Mordecai in the Middle East, of the exiles who went to Egypt with Jeremiah, and of the descendants of the exiles who died by the millions in Hitler’s furnaces, and who are awaiting the Messiah as Gentiles no longer do? They still experience an exile no Gentile Christian can grasp.

Pentecost brought Gentiles of all kinds into the Jewish church. Today the Gentile Church is overflowing with ethnicities, cultures, and languages, all united by one Word. But few, very few Jews. Is it not time for the Gentile church to rediscover the biblical diversity that would bring Jews into the Gentile Church? Only so will all Israel be saved.

But how many Christian churches are involved in evangelism to Jews evangelism? How many churches have decided to call off evangelizing Jewish people as too politically insensitive.

We work so hard to escort Gentiles who are not “our own kind” into the Church. But we’ve got the “not our own kind” wrong. No matter the language, color or race, they are our own kind, for we are all Gentiles. Like the little Jewish girl who told the Gentile Naaman about the prophet who heals, maybe we Gentiles–red, and yellow, black, and white–should speak the Word with a Jewish neighbor. Then all will be precious in his sight.

ACL

Education& Soulcraft

2008-10-31T04:54:00.000-07:00

by Gilbert Meilaender (reviewing Stanley Fish, Save the World on Your Own Time)*

“What we can do in the classroom is, roughly what Fish says we can (and should) attempt; impart knowledge and develop skills needed to analyze ideas. We can give training in critical reflection about how different individuals and traditions have proposed that we should live. We can, on our good days or good semesters, produce students who think more clearly, critically, and reflectively about such questions. And, if we’ve really done well, we may even produce students who realize that critical thought is by no means the whole of moral life. It is what can be done in the classroom, what a college professor might be trained to do if he attempts not to save the world but to do his job. . . . .

“Moments of grace, divine dispensations, cannot be programmed or delivered according to any method within our control. The result of what we do in the classroom, whether we produce students who are creative or virtuous, is, as Fish says several times, a wholly contingent matter.

“The typical academician today is likely to think that we should be humble about our ability to know the truth but devoted to programmatic attempts to shape and form students’ characters. Fish thinks, rightly, that this locates humility in just the wrong place, in the process giving us a good conscience about shaping the souls of our students. We should be devoted to the pursuit of truth, aware that no one can say for sure what the effect of our teaching will be in our students’ lives, humbly prepared to keep our hands off those students’ souls.

“It ought to be Christians–and, probably, religious believers of other stripes–who know this. We know that we cannot program grace and that a moment of felicity will be required if what we do in the classroom turns out to shape the character of our students in desirable ways. So we should sharpen the intellect as best we can; we should pursue truth in matters we teach; we should transmit knowledge and the skills required to gain and extend that knowledge–but we should not try to produce or control what must be contingent and felicitous.”

*First Things (November, 2008), 35, 36.

Reformation Day, Again

Maybe you sang “A Mighty Fortress is our God” last Sunday, or will sing it next Sunday. Some may celebrate Reformation rallies in large auditoriums, but they occur less frequently.

How long can you maintain the fervor of newly discovered faith? How long did it take Israel before the excitement of arriving in Canaan deteriorated into doing what the Canaanites did? Or the Christians in Corinth or Rome? Enthusiasm for the faith once for all delivered to the saints has never been without its challenges.

Reformations have occurred with some regularity. In the days of the Judges God sent his servants to provide rest for a repentant people and King Josiah renewed temple worship in ancient Israel, only years before the exile. Reforms emerged in 10^th century Cluny and later in 16^th century Western Europe. These were followed by the Second Reformation of the 17^th century and beyond, and the reforming “schisms” of the 19^th and 20^th centuries. Reformation is what the church does when it acknowledges it has followed other than the “old, old story.”

How long do the effects of any reformation last? Josiah’s reformation was doomed to failure because of Manasseh who came before him (2 Kings 23:25-26). Several small, Reformed Churches still drink at the well of the Second Reformation. But what of the larger, Presbyterian and Reformed, churches? So much has changed since the 16^th century Reformation. Few today would despise Roman Catholics; that would be too insensitive. Doctrinal disputes about the nature of justification, election and reprobation not only diminish the participants, but overlook the problem with truth. How do we today know they were right then? Then there is the increasing ennui with our 16^th and 17^th century confessions. Some are suggesting they were useful for their time, not so much for us today.

What has changed enormously compared to the time of the Reformation is the culture in which the contemporary church finds itself. The 16^th century Reformation occurred in a Christian Church and state culture. The magistrate was encouraged to promote Christianity and not other religions. Reasons for reformation then emerged from concerns about the free communication of God’s grace in preaching and sacraments, abuse of episcopal office and the role of the laity in a worship held in Latin, to name but a few. Those raising the questions were not interested in leaving the church, but in reforming it. Yet some were excommunicated for their efforts, and others followed them. Thus were born the churches of the Reformation.

Some of these churches have almost five hundred years of historical experience, many with a number of their own reformations. These churches themselves have changed since the Reformation and continue to change. But are there any similarities between us and the time of the Reformation?

Replacing the Roman Catholic altar with a pulpit for proclaiming the Word characterized Reformation era churches. What do we do with pulpits today? What do they mean today? Do they communicate the same emphasis on the proclamation of the Word and the subordination of the sacraments to the Word? Reformation arguments against indulgences, payments to reduce time in purgatory, were part of the promotion of the free gift of grace and life eternal, and liberated many from false and abusive church practices. Today many pulpits (and platforms) proclaim the clear gospel of health and wealth to reduce earthly debt and suffering (and please send in a donation). Reformation believers knew that this world was filled with devils, and we may even sing that part of Luther’s famous hymn this week. But in an age of electricity, genetic engineering, and telescopes peering into the universe’s past, belief in the existence of angels and demons is deemed quaint. Who or what are the participants in the contemporary religious struggles?

When we think about the 16^th century Reformation this week, what will we remember? Do the burning issues of that time remain important today? How are grace preached and sacraments administered? How is ecclesiastical office exercised and justification is experienced?. And what about the fact we no longer live in a Christian, but decidedly pluralist, culture in which Christianity is no longer the privileged religion, but others are? What might lead us to work for a much needed reformation in our time? Is our piety too worldly or self-indulgent? Is our worship more about us than about God? Do we, or should we, worry about our eternal destiny?

Whatever may be the case for reformation today, Martin Luther’s “A Mighty Fortress is our God” continues to be relevant. It gets at the essentials: God and his victory over sin and evil, our own inability to improve our spiritual condition and total dependence on Christ, trust in God and his victory over all that seeks to undo the church (them devils); and the gift of the Spirit. Especially challenging for every age are these words: “Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also, the body they may kill; God’s truth abideth still; his kingdom is forever.”

ACL

Suffering wealth: It depends on the kind of person you are

2008-10-02T09:06:00.000-07:00

Augustine of Hippo

“Wherefore, though good and bad men suffer alike, we must not suppose that there is no difference between the men themselves, because there is no difference in what they both suffer. For even in the likeness of the sufferings, there remains an unlikeness in the sufferers; and though exposed to the same anguish, virtue and vice are not the same thing. For as the same fire causes gold to glow brightly, and chaff to smoke; and under the same flail the straw is beaten small, while the grain is cleansed; and as the lees are not mixed with the oil, though squeezed out of the vat by the same pressure, so the same violence of affliction proves, purges, clarifies the good, but damns, ruins, exterminates the wicked. And thus it is that in the same affliction the wicked detest God and blaspheme, while the good pray and praise. So material a difference does it make, not what ills are suffered, but what kind of man suffers them. For, stirred up with the same movement, mud exhales a horrible stench, and ointments emit a fragrant odour.”

“Thus our Paulinus, bishop of Nola, who voluntarily abandoned vast wealth and became quite poor, though abundantly rich in holiness, when the barbarians sacked Nola, and took him prisoner, used silently to pray, as he afterwards told me, ‘O Lord, let me not be troubled for gold and silver, for where all my treasure is Thou knowest.’ For all his treasure was where he had been taught to hide and store it by Him who had also foretold that these calamities would happen in the world. Consequently those persons who obeyed their Lord when He warned them where and how to lay up treasure, did not lose even their earthly possessions in the invasion of the barbarians; while those who are now repenting that they did not obey Him have learnt the right use of earthly goods, if not by the wisdom which would have prevented their loss, at least by the experience which follows it.”

The City of God, trans. Marcus Dods (New York: Modern Library, 1950), I.8,10.

Generous orthodoxy: Everybody’s a theologian, not!

You may have read about the politicians who took the opportunity to redefine their church’s theological position to score political points. Maybe you haven’t. It was about abortion rights and the beginning of life, and American politicians: Pelosi and Biden recently; Kerry and Cuomo some years ago. All are members of the Roman Catholic Church (RCC).

Support of their party’s pro-abortion rights position already placed them athwart of the RCC’s centuries long pro-life, anti-abortion rights declarations. Consequently there have been calls for refusing them and other RCC politicians who hold similar view participation in the eucharist. Indignant ripostes declared this “religious interference in political affairs.” Few talked about political interference in church affairs. Until Pelosi and Biden offered their theological positions.

On Meet the Press, Pelosi reported that the RCC has been unable to define the beginning of life; Biden wielded Aquinas on “quickening.” Responding that both Augustine and Aquinas opposed abortion, RCC theologians politely suggested that Pelosi may have been confused and Biden not fully understood. The RCC archbishop of Denver was quoted as saying: “Meet the Press has become a national window on the flawed moral reasoning of some Catholic public servants.” (Weekly Standard [September 29, 2008], 27). These and other recent attempts to support a political platform by appeal to the subjectivity of religious faith were shattered on the hard rock of the RCC’s commitment to its position on the beginning of life as objective fact. Imagine that, the faith of ordinary members of the church being called to account by professional theologians. What do they know of the real world?

Along with “Virginia Slims” church members have come a long way by excitedly celebrating their newly found freedom not to be bound by truths of the past. Ignorant of church history they boldly go where they think noone has gone before, thus betraying the typical arrogance of youth that believes no one has had a good thought before them. Usually the young learn that the past has many things to offer the present; not so anymore. Today young and old tend to believe that what they believe is most important, that church officials have no real authority to define matters of faith for them, even if they are members of the church in question. And documents written at the time of the Reformation? How can they be meaningful for the 21^st century?

In an age of political correctness with its clear definitions of heresy (think of how extreme feminists responded to McCain’s selection of Sarah Palin), it is ironic that eternal values may only be fuzzy to fit the greatest number, that orthodoxy must be generous and inclusive to a fault. At a time when we value diversity of all kinds, encourage particular cultural expressions to the exclusion of the majority groups (the oppressor class), genuine doctrinal and ecclesiastical differences within the Christian family must be ignored, especially if we want to be inclusive.

Christian doctrine, however, never was, and cannot be, the product of private interpretation or personal preference. The apostle Peter (2 Peter 1:20-21) reminds his readers of that with respect to the prophets. How much more with us? A brief examination of the history of the church also discloses that there are good and not so good ways of thinking about Scripture; that good decisions take time. Think only about how long it took the church to think about the relationship between God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. Or how we think about the nature of Scripture? But within the agreed upon definitions there are ongoing discussions. Usually in agreed upon terms. Everybody is not a theologian. Everyone is not a good reader of Scripture.

By the way. Like the Reformation confessions, the Scriptures were also written centuries ago. Are they still useful for the 21^st century? Have we outgrown them? Is the Apostle Paul just a dead Jewish theologian who has no more to say to today’s theological issues than yesterday’s bright-eyed convert? Are we too generous with our own thoughts about God and generously stingy with “the faith once for all entrusted to the saints” (Jude 3)? Was Paul wrong to warn the young pastor Timothy to be aware of those who wanted to hear new and interesting things (2 Tim. 4:2-5)?

True generosity lets Scripture and the deep treasury of the church’s theological reflections on it, create in us a deep humility for the inheritance of truth we have received from those who have confessed the faith before us.

ACL

North American Christianity and Old Europe

2008-09-01T11:40:00.000-07:00

Richard John Neuhaus*

“I have frequently cautioned against the propensity of some conservatives, especially Evangelicals, to claim that ours is a post-Christian society. That is, I contend, an easy out from engaging the tasks that are ours in an incorrigibly, confusedly, and conflictedly Christian America.

“[David B.] Hart sets out another consideration to which we should attend: ‘For, if we succumb to post-Christian modernity, and set the limits of its vision, what then? Most of us will surrender to a passive decay of will and aspiration, perhaps, find fewer reasons to resist as government insinuates itself into the little liberties of the family, continue to seek out hitherto unsuspected insensitivities to denounce and prejudices to extirpate, allow morality to give way to sentimentality; the impetuous among us will attempt to enjoy Balzac, or take up herb gardening, or discover “issues”; a few dilettantish amoralists will ascertain that everything is permitted and dabble in bestiality or cannibalism; the rest of us will mostly watch television; crime rates will rise more steeply and birthrates fall more precipitously; being the “last men,” we shall think ourselves at the end of history; an occasional sense of pointlessness of it all will induce in us a certain morose feeling of impotence (but what can one do?); and, in short, we shall become Europeans (but without the vestiges of the old civilization ranged about us to soothe our despondency).’

“Hart acknowledges that he is not original in observing that ‘the vestigial Christianity if the old world presents one with the pathetic spectacle of shape without energy, while the quite robust Christianity of the new world presents one with the disturbing spectacle of energy without shape.’

“It is reasonable to believe that a more churchly and culture-forming shape of Christianity may be in process through efforts such as Evangelicals and Catholics Together and new Christian initiatives in philosophy, literature, and the arts. There are, to be sure, formidable obstacles but, if we resist the temptation to resign ourselves to ours being a post-Christian society, such initiatives could bear impressive fruit in the short term of the next hundred years or so. And in the long term, who knows what might happen?”

Agreed. But do we have the energy to maintain confessional orthodoxy?

* The Best of “The Public Square.” Book Three (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 61-62.

Careless “good”ness

Short like Zaccheus, he made the best of that Sunday morning. After he moved the large Bible off the pulpit and on to the floor, the seminarian mounted the Bible and proceeded with the service, standing on the Word. This true story was told and retold with some relish during the late 60s into the early 70s when long hair and beards were still frowned upon, and colored shirts just began to appear on pulpits. The daring act affirmed the “revolutionary” nature of the times. And the desire for Orthodoxy. With anti-Barthian pride the seminarian confirmed to the consistory that he had truly stood on the Word. He may have been ready for his classical exam, but the consistory was not convinced of his orthodoxy.

How interestingly quaint. Pulpit Bibles on the pulpit. Today we more often find them off the pulpit and on the Lord’s Supper table, even on the organ (if you still have one, and the console is at the front). Anywhere but the pulpit. Pulpit Bibles, you see, are awkward. Sermon notes slip from them; you can’t walk around with them open in one hand; and, they’re obviously out of place on an acrylic pulpit. But even the big Bibles still on pulpits show how little they are used: they lay open to the same two dog-eared pages, somewhere in the Psalms.

Of course, ministers still preach from the Bible, and pulpits usually provide a pew Bible stored within or on the side. Some years ago, however, I had to go to the first pew to find one for pulpit use. Had I brought my own Bible there would not have been a problem that day. But then that would have been my personal Bible (people could have been amazed at how worn it was).

But Reformed worship is not about the minister, and certainly not about a personal Bible. Actually, it’s about the function of the pulpit. The Reformation replaced the altar with the pulpit; not sacrifice, but the Word assumed center stage. The minister would stand behind the pulpit on which a large Bible lay open. The preacher was subordinate to the Word.

Theological symbols have taken a backseat in contemporary liturgical vehicles. Pulpits, baptismal fonts, and Lord Supper tables are moved around without thought to what is being communicated. Sometimes from week to week. Preachers move around like entertainers, to get away from “elevating themselves,” which remaining behind the pulpit evidently does. It’s what people prefer, many say. But doesn’t walking all over emphasize the preacher? Where do the congregation’s eyes go? During this energetic presentation the pulpit remains empty, diminished, no longer central. In choosing energy we neglect our shape. It’s all so careless.

No less so than our everyday language. Take the following conversation:

“Good morning. How are you?”

“ I’m good.”

“No one is good, except God.”

“What????”

I know. Language changes. The rules of one age get thrown out in the next. “Ain’t” is now acceptable, as is “they” in the place of the traditional “he” to cover plural subjects that include men and women. I still like the traditional answer: “Fine, how are you?”

All issues of language change aside, Christians live by a story which includes the exchange between that rich young man who asked Jesus, “What good thing must I do to get eternal life.” After Jesus asked the young man why he asked that question, he said: “There is only One who is good.” If that is true, should committed Christians ever say, “I’m good”?

No one is intentionally trying to take God’s place when they say, “I’m good.” Nevertheless, using that locution, as does the culture around us, gives a totally different impression in the Christian community than, “Fine.” In the context of the parable about the rich young man, the phrase “I’m good,” is a like a finger nail scratching on the blackboard of Christian self-awareness. And it’s all so careless. Careless about who we are, what defines us, and how we communicate that.

In view of our careless liturgical language and daily speech, Paul’s word to the Ephesians about living as children of light, is worth remembering: “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen” (Eph. 4:29). That’s good, and orthodox.

ACL

The 2008 Candidates for Ministry

2008-07-31T18:10:00.000-07:00

By now many of you will have seen their eager faces in the Banner: candidates for ministry in the CRC approved by Synod 2008. At this writing at least 15 have already accepted a call to a congregation or mission service.

Long gone are the days when churches called a minister sight unseen, when a three year stay in a congregation, according to the Yearbook, was enough to place someone on a calling list. No such faceless calling today. A one year, even two years, courting process is not unusual. Candidates are similarly courted by congregations months before they are eligible. So much so, it exaggerates even the normal senioritis in their last year of seminary.

Who are they?

The Banner provides the congregations with basic information about candidates: most are married, some are beyond their twenties and starting a second-career, a smattering can speak a second language. If so, it tends to Spanish or Korean. Their names will tell you that not all come from CRC backgrounds. They’ve entered the CRC for various reasons: they love the Reformed confessions, they appreciate its theological traditions.

Candidates come to our congregations with widely different ecclesiastical and theological educational backgrounds. All have been declared eligible for a call by Synod; not all have taken their theological training at Calvin Theological Seminary. Reasons for studying elsewhere vary: hard to move a family with children, want to get out of Western Michigan or the “CRC culture,” CTS is too far, too difficult, too progressive. A few go to seminary, any seminary, only because it’s required. They know what “my” ministry is and feel theological education is a mere hoop.

Like church members everywhere, candidates for ministry reflect their culture. Thus some are committed to the confessional traditions and are challenged by theological issues and truth, others will operate more on the level of feeling and truthiness; some will look forward to tackling theological and pastoral problems, others back off, even whine and shift responsibilities when the going gets difficult. Some will appreciate the congregation’s feedback on their sermons and pastoral care, others will become defensive when the congregation refuses to appreciate their self-centeredness expressed in their homiletical striptease (their experiences are central). Some will want constantly to rework their “job descriptions” (= too much work). In other words, they will express all the positives and negatives of the people they serve.

Little of this is new, of course. Ministers and their spouses have never been perfect, and they can often be difficult for congregations: they leave parsonages in horrible shape; dress sloppily; love to hobnob with the rich and famous (such as they are in a given congregation) but neglect the needy; can’t preach, or teach, or make pastoral visits; refuse to administer discipline or all of the above. The 2008 candidates will not escape criticism, either. But they are young and inexperienced, in need of mentoring, shaping and direction. For all the experience in previous vocations, all that is learned and properly undone in their theological education, none of these candidates comes to you as a minister. The degree does not a doctor or minister make. Becoming a minister happens in the context of entrusted practice in a congregation or mission work.

What can the congregations teach them?

Some suggestions for mentoring a new minister:

1. Insist on good study habits. Time spent in their study is not wasted. A theological
education will keep them going for about a year and a half, after that it is all self-discipline. Good teaching, preaching, and pastoral care happen for a reason.

2. Their theological education has taught them that the CRC has its own vision, the confessions;its own definition of ministry, the church order and form for ordination. Reminding those who stray from their vow is a gift they should receive. They are with you to serve the congregation, not their vision, their ministry, their church.

3 Kindly help them with a preaching program. There are texts they should preach, the classics such as Genesis 1:1; Isaiah 40:1ff; John 3:16; Romans 3:23. It’s crucial the congregation hear fundamental truths about our being right with God, hear a call to lead holy lives, and be encouraged to struggle against deadly sin such as pride, lust, greed, gluttony, anger, and envy, rather than issues of world transformation. Ask them to leave prophetic condemnation or “social justice” texts for later because these matters require enormous wisdom, not merely youthful exuberance. Wisdom comes with time

4. Do not despise their youth. What they teach and preach is Scripture, not their own experience. A sermon on the family is based on Paul or on texts from Proverbs. Even if their families are not perfect, they must still let Scripture speak to you, but also to themselves

5. From day one help them to think about how they will leave the ministry among you: what will they leave behind. Think of the parable of the talents.

Ministry is a daunting vocation. Beginners should give themselves at least five years before thinking their preaching, teaching, and pastoral care has character and depth. Those of us in ministry for several decades know we’ve hardly scratched the surface.

ACL

Patriotism

2008-06-30T16:22:00.000-07:00

Sometime during the First World War Rev. Herman Hoeksema, an ordained minister in the CRC, got into trouble for not allowing the American national flag in the church’s worship area. Howls of protest ensued. Questions were asked: Was Hoeksema not a patriot? Was he a German sympathizer? It was reported Hoeksema carried a revolver for self-protection.

A visitor from Canada attended a Thanksgiving worship service in an American CRC and was troubled that the service began with the reading of the presidential proclamation. Such state involvement in worship is unknown in the Canadian CRCs. Not so for Anglican churches. An ancient Anglican church downtown Halifax has so many civic features incorporated into its building, it’s difficult to tell whether civic duty or the Christian faith determines its identity. But it is not uncommon to find the American flag in American churches, including in some CRC churches. Some even sing patriotic hymns during or at the end of worship closest to July 4th.

Scripture enjoins Christ’s disciples to be good citizens, but with a difference. The Old Testament church and state were one; the capital of the kingdom of God was also the capital of the state. That is no longer the case. The Christian Church and the state, wherever that may be, are no longer the same. Citizens owe loyalty to their country; the center of their civic life is found in the national capital: Washington, Cairo, Beijing, Ottawa, or Mexico City. The center of the Christian life is the heavenly Jerusalem, where Christ reigns at the right hand of the Father.

In Christian worship we express allegiance to our heavenly citizenship, not to our earthly citizenship. Civic rituals are about our penultimate, earthly responsibilities, and are shaped to reflect that. Citizenship ceremonies, for example, do not end with the doxology and the raising of the Christian flag. In some countries citizenship and church membership, Protestant, Roman Catholic, or Orthodox, are almost identical. In others, churches place the national flag in the worship area to dispel suspicion that Christians are not good citizens.

Civic “holidays” are set aside to honor our earthly citizenship and engage in patriotic exercises. The national hymn is often sung at sports events and during the school year students repeat their pledges of allegiance daily. Christian holy days such as Sundays, Christmas, Easter, Ascension, and Pentecost, remind believers of the mighty acts of God in Christ. On those days we engage in patriotic exercises that express our loyalty to the Lord Jesus Christ who reigns at the right hand of God the Father, almighty. The liturgy that shapes those exercises of Christian loyalty typically end with a doxology that publicly expresses our heavenly patriotism.

ACL

Not of Works but of Grace

2008-06-30T16:21:00.000-07:00

Lesslie Newbigin*

“While it is at the heart of true morality that it is aware of an objective moral order to which we ought to conform, yet to achieve that conformity by our own effort corrupts morality. Let us try to make that clear by a simple everyday example. When we have done wrong or failed in respect of some duty, our ordinary natural reaction is to say ‘I will make up for it by being better, kinder, more conscientious next time’ . . . . I think this is a fair description of the way our minds work when we are ‘trying to be good.’ ‘I have done badly today, but I will do better tomorrow’; and the second clause is intended to compensate for the first. In other words, we find compensation for a past fault in a future merit. We have put ourselves in debt, as it were, to the moral order, but tomorrow by an extra effort of goodness we hope to make up the deficit . . . .

“But now let us see what we have done. In the first place we have corrupted moral motives. We are going to do better tomorrow to make up for today; we are going to do good deeds, not because they are good, but to justify ourselves. Our fundamental selfishness has got into the very heart of our motives. We have introduced just that seed of egocentricity which turns free self-forgetting goodness into ‘good works’ done with an ulterior motive–between which two things there is the difference between light and darkness . . . .

“But we have not only corrupted moral motives. We have also lowered moral standards. For if we suppose, as a legalistic morality constantly does, that we can make up for past failure by extra effort in the future, we are acting on the assumption that it is possible to have a sort of credit balance in goodness–in other words, that it is possible to do more than our duty. If I suppose that my goodness today is going to compensate for my failure yesterday, I am really supposing, as far as today is concerned, that I can be better than necessary.”

*Cited by John Baillie, A Diary of Readings (London: Oxford, 1955), 218

Quodlibet

2008-06-03T10:41:00.000-07:00

Communities

In an article of the “Cliché Community” (Weekly Standard June 2, 5008), Andrew Ferguson writes, “It’s why every group of individuals, no matter how various or loosely tethered, is suddenly called a community. In the last couple of days I’ve read not only of the vegetarian community, which would include both Gandhi and Hitler, but also of the Catholic community (actually, it’s a church) and the conservative community (which lumps me with Richard Viguerie–no thanks). It goes without saying that the best of these communities are nurturing and sustainable . . . .”

Add to these the internet community, the hair challenged community, and the community of faith (to which belong Hindus, Muslims, animists, and Calvin Seminary [actually a school]). How soon can we look forward to administrative communities (consistory, classis, synod), or the 2850 community?

Confession

Other clichés: you “share” instead of “tell.” Too confrontational; and “doing wrong” too judgmental; please say “behaving inappropriately.” Thus Ferguson. But what about the worshiping community: “sin” too rough, judgmental? Then why not “unfaithful,” “a moment of self-reflection,” “thinking better thoughts”?

Confession has fallen on bad times in churches, especially the sensitive evangelical mega-communities. And who does not fall over their feet to imitate? Reformed churches have not traditionally had confession as a liturgical item. Even so, we've not been afraid to be bold: sin in the sermons, in the long prayers, and at least four times a year a list of “gross sins” was part of preparation from the Lord’s Supper. In those days, if you didn’t come to the Lord’s Supper you had a reason. Reading the list of gross sins before the Lord’s Supper is still encouraged by the official community, but the nurturing and the sensitive think it inappropriate, insensitive to the people’s struggles. Maybe we ought to rethink the Reformation’s doing away with confession, having the opportunity to confess your real sin to an authorized listener, and to hear a word of forgiveness. More believers struggle with being truly forgiven than with saving the environment.

A good beginning for your devotional life is John Baillie, A Diary of Private Prayer. Not a word to please the politically correct community, no clichés, only honest confession of real human sin, and petitions to discipline the Christian life as a member of the body of Christ, the church.

Priestly worship: On earth as it is in heaven

2008-04-30T17:31:00.000-07:00

by Herman Bavinck

“People have almost forgotten why they go to church and what they do there because they fail to understand the true purpose of public worship: that we openly gather to engage in priestly service. In public worship we go about our Father’s business, we bring sacrifices to God’s temple, we offer ourselves to him with all we have. In worship we do not passively receive but actively seek to build up ourselves and others in our most sacred faith. That is the true meaning of going up to the house of prayer.

“The key to this understanding is rooted in the truth that all believers are priests. The priestly task today no longer . . . focuses on a mediating intercession of the Old Covenant which belongs to a specific priesthood. This disappears with the universalization of the priesthood. Nevertheless, this remains: observing the service of the holy place, that spiritual and heavenly offering which coincides with the sacrifice of the New Covenant. This offering consists in confessing the name of Christ, in revering God, in our participation in Christ’s intercession, and in the presentation of gifts for God’s work and the poor in Christ.

“It is God’s will that we call upon him in public gatherings. In public because he is worthy of such honor and because it is proper that the world hears God’s people acknowledge him as God. In gatherings because God only wants and recognizes believers as the body of Christ, as an entity wholly organized in Christ. Outside of Christ, that is outside his body, God has no communion with the individual, as of old he would not with an Israelite separate from Israel.

“For this reason the faithful gather on the day of rest. Every local congregation represents the body of Christ. Her members are called to priestly service in the congregation, which is the temple of the Lord. As priests they come together, as priests they bring the Lord offerings of praise and thanksgiving, of petition and lament, as priests they present gifts for the temple and the faithful. That is the essence, the wonderful meaning, and the joy of our gathering on Sunday, or whenever we gather as God’s people. Thus we find ourselves in communion with those gathered in heaven, and work as one with them; even the angels, as a sign of that unity: are present in our meetings as they are in the heavenly congregation.”

Excerpted from “De Predikdienst,” in Kennis en Leven (Kok, 1922), 80-81. Translated by ACLeder.

This is my body (2)*

2008-04-01T12:00:00.000-07:00

by Arie C. Leder

Scripture’s high view of the human body tells us it is nothing less than what God has created for joyful and sensual service. From the day Adam sang of Eve as “flesh of my flesh,” they were so gifted and without embarrassment (Gen. 2:23-25; cf. Song of Songs). But then Eve and Adam compromised their bodily service, touching and eating what God had prohibited. In priestly terms, they defiled their bodies, and by so doing defiled the presence of God in which they moved and had their being. Life would forever be changed: the most ordinary bodily activities, birth and work in the field (Gen. 3:16, 17-18), would bear the marks of the broken relationship between God and his human creatures (Gen. 3:10, 23-24), and between men and women (Gen. 3:21, cf. 2:25).

By virtue of their disobedience all Adam and Eve’s descendants are broken and impaired, both in body and soul. Thus, Paul teaches that we are dead (Rom. 5:12; 6:23) in our trespasses and sins. “Do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer the parts of your body to sin, as instruments of wickedness,” he urges his listeners, “offer the parts of your body to him as instruments of righteousness” (Rom. 7:12-13). It is only within the body of Christ that our bodies, that we as body-soul beings who are fundamentally broken, can begin to experience and practice a righteous use of the body. All of us, whether cognitively or physically impaired. Leviticus already points us in this direction.

Lessons from Leviticus

In its theological description of life in the presence of God Leviticus employs the human body, its ordinary processes, fluids, and a still difficult to define skin disease. Although ordinary, these processes are so “yucky” that chapters 11-15 receive less than their due attention in the pulpit. After all, it might be asked, how can ancient instructions about eating, post-birth uterine discharges, skin disease, and genital discharges be spiritually enlightening? Strangely enough, they are.

The apostle Paul, a learned OT Scripture reader by training, helps us to understand the theology of Leviticus when he reproaches the sexually immoral Corinthian Christians: “Don’t you know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit?” (1 Cor. 6:19; cf. 3:16-17). The human body is endowed for priestly service (Roman. 12:1-2), like the temple of the Lord in Jerusalem and the tabernacle in the desert. In this Paul reflects nothing less than Leviticus. Our bodies are not our worlds to do with or think about as we please, but God’s. That is, he rules over our bodies as his temple. Our bodies then are a microcosm of the macrocosm, a small version of the world God created and in which he is present as its Creator, Ruler, and Redeemer.

In the world of Leviticus, God is in Israel’s midst and Israel in God’s close presence. But God’s close presence is dangerous because the sinful descendants of Adam and Eve’s need grace to survive in God’s close presence (Lev. 10:1-3; Ex. 20:18-19; cf. Heb 12:28-29). Thus Leviticus addresses us as Adam and Eve’s descendants: about their, and our, deep brokenness in body and soul; their, and our, lack of wholeness; their, and our, being subject to death and decay like the flowers of the field. Leviticus uses our own bodies to instruct us. For our purposes we will look briefly at Leviticus 13-14, two chapters on skin dis-ease (We’ll exclude the part about mildew in the walls.)

The Levitical body and brokenness

Several things we know with a high degree of certainty: the skin disease in question is not Hansen’s disease, leprosy, but something like psoriasis. Second, the uncleanness and the resulting excommunication from the camp is not the result of human intentionality. No one wills to have this skin disease. Unlike life-style diseases such liver problems which result from alcohol abuse or sexually transmitted disease, the skin disorder of Leviticus 13-14 comes upon the person randomly, like most diseases and impairments. Third, the human body is treated like two other important spaces: the camp and the tabernacle. Like these spaces, the human body must be clean, without defilement of any kind. The tabernacle must be clean because it is God’s dwelling place, the camp because the tabernacle resides in its midst, and the bodies of Israelites because they reside in the camp, in the close presence of God.

When any one of these spaces becomes unclean, certain rituals are prescribed for its cleansing. Thus, the Day of Atonement rituals serve to cleanse the tabernacle from the defilement of Israel’s sin (Lev. 16:16). Human life in the presence of God ought to be pure, whole, clean, and stay within its assigned limits or boundaries, but sin has introduced unwholeness, uncleanness, impurity, and the transgression of limits or boundaries. This is now the “natural” state of humanity before God. Leviticus uses the human body, its natural processes and unintentional defilements, to speak about one’s relationship with God.

Because skin disease breaks the skin and may form patches of scales, a person so afflicted carries in her or his body evidence of unwholeness, decay, and death. Because the body is broken and defiled, the person is broken and defiled. The afflicted and unclean must then move from the camp, life continues, but now outside of the normal relationships. Daily, the defiled person experiences a “little exile,” i.e., being removed from the place where her true identity is rooted, the presence of God and her family and friends. And there is no fault attributed. Disorder appears randomly. When it so breaks into someone’s life the afflicted must warn everyone: “Unclean, unclean.” Similar with normal bodily processes such as post-birth uterine and genital discharges. In this case uncleanness occurred repeatedly, or, seemingly, without end (Mark 5:25-34).

Such is the grace of divine pedagogy: Our own bodies, “whole,” “normal,” or “broken,” are conscripted to serve as kingdom-of-God signs that point us to the truth of our “natural” state.

Wholeness and unwholeness

Only through the hearing of the gospel (Rom. 10:14-15) can such pedagogy be effective. Through it alone can we confess that we are fundamentally impaired, no matter what our “normal” or “broken” cognitive and physical abilities may be. But that very confession also allows the Christian to bear the whole range of brokennesses–including emotional, cognitive, physical, and spiritual dis-ease–as signs that participate in God’s reminding us of our natural unwholeness. Outside a profound commitment to the gospel this understanding of life in the human body makes no sense; it is foolishness (1 Cor. 1:18-31). It is folly because the world considers our bodies “our only comfort,” our very own garden to accept or deny, and then cultivate as we will.

The knowledge of our fundamental impairment shapes us when we experience the random physical impairments that come from disease. We will know that our wholeness does not reside in our bodies, whether “normal” or “broken,” but in our being one with the Lord of life during the times of our “normal” or “broken” lives (Mark 5:34). Wholeness derives from belonging to the body of Christ, a body that is perfectly whole from before the foundations of the world, a body whose wounds and suffering comprehends all the wounds, suffering, abuse, cognitive and physical impairment, that may come upon the sinful descendants of Adam and Eve. And when members of that body suffer such impairments in this life they, we, pray for the sick and disabled, the suffering.

But how should we offer such prayer. Take the following samples of prayers for the sick. Note the honesty about our “natural” state. See how the brokenness of body and soul are taken up into a confession of sin, but also of complete trust in the Lord to whom we belong, body and soul, in life and in death. Do we pray this way? Should we pray in this manner? Are these but old-fashioned prayers that do not meet “my needs”? Are our prayers for healing rooted in Christ’s wholeness?

Prayer and wholeness

“I acknowledge, Lord, that your chastisement is just; I have deserved them thousand-fold. My sins have so provoked you that you are just in striking me with the rod of your anger. I have also failed to do my neighbor the good I could have while I was strong. Even more, my carelessness has endangered the souls of my neighbor. Therefore you come in righteousness to banish me from the fellowship of my friends and set me among strangers. But Lord and good God, there is grace and mercy with you; and even though this contagion . . . prevents me from being with my children, I have complete access to you, through Jesus Christ my Lord.” (Excerpt from “A Prayer for one visited by Pestilence,” by Willem Teellinck [1579-1629].)

“We beseech Thee that Thou wilt grant us the grace of the Holy Spirit, that He may teach us to know truly our miseries, and to bear patiently thy chastisements, which as far as our merits are concerned might have been ten thousand times more severe. . . . We submit ourselves without reserve to Thy holy will, regardless whether Thou wouldst leave our souls here in these earthly tabernacles or whether Thou wouldst take them home unto Thyself. We have no fear because we belong to Christ, and therefore shall not perish. We even desire to depart from this weak body in the hope of a blessed resurrection, knowing that then it will be restored to us in a much more glorious form.” (Excerpt from a “Prayer for the sick and the spiritually distressed,” Psalter Hymnal [1976], 187.)

“We acknowledge that we have within ourselves nothing but evil inclinations and inability to do any good. On this account we have merited this affliction, yea, have deserved far more. . . . count not our sins against us, . . . give us patience and strength to bear it all according to Thy will; and may it thus in Thy wisdom redound to our edification. . . . . Rather chastise us here, Lord, than that we should have to perish with the world hereafter. Grant that we may die to this world and to all earthly things, that we may be renewed daily after the image of Jesus Christ. Suffer us never to be separated from Thy love . . . .” (Excerpt from a “Prayer for the sick and the spiritually distressed,” Psalter Hymnal [1976], 188.)

Or, in the words of the hymn: “Lord Jesus, for this I most humbly entreat; I wait, blessed Lord, at Thy crucified feet; By faith, for my cleansing, I see Thy blood flow; now wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.” (Psalter Hymnal [1976], number 379, st. 3)

*Part one, June 2007, this website.

Hope and the private soldier

2008-03-25T08:04:00.000-07:00

by W. R. Inge

“But we must not disguise from ourselves that God’s dealings with this world are still a very difficult problem. After reading the Old Testament we have no right to think that what perplexed the chosen people for so many centuries will all be plain to us even with the New Testament to guide us. There is a great deal of shallow optimism which ‘heals too slightly’ the wounds which experience inflicts upon Faith and Hope. It is useless to say, ‘God’s in His heaven; All’s right with the world,’ when many things are obviously wrong in the world. It is vain to argue, as Emerson does, that divine justice is an automatic self-adjusting machine, so that all get their deserts (not of course in a grossly material sense) in this life. Eminent literary men in the last century were too secure and comfortable to see what a rough place the world is for the majority of those who live in it. It was only after long travail of soul that the Jews learned their lesson; we shall not learn ours by turning epigrams. Remember that complacent optimism, no less than pessimism, is treason against Hope. The world, as it is, is not good enough to be true. We ought not to be satisfied with it. ‘God has prepared some better thing.’ . . .

“This world exists for the realization in time of God’s eternal purposes. Some of these are bound up with individual lives, for God intended each one of us to do and be something; others have a far wider scope, and require far more time for their fulfilment. The manifold evils in the world are allowed to exist because only through them can the greater good be brought into activity. This greater good is not any external achievement, but the love and heroism and self-sacrifice which the great conflict calls into play. We must try to return to the dauntless spirit of the early Christians . . . And let us remember, when we are inclined to be disheartened, that the private soldier is a poor judge of the fortunes of a great battle.”

“Day 19,” in John Baillie, A Diary of Readings (Oxford, 1955).

The Returning Church

2008-03-17T08:45:00.000-07:00

The Returning Church will be holding a meeting in Michigan on Thursday, April 17 at 7:00 p.m. We will again be hosted by 1st CRC in Byron Center.

The purpose of this meeting is to discuss "The Vibrancy of Confessionalism" and the place of biblical truth in our local congregations. Dr. Robert Swierenga (Research History Professor at the VanRaalte Institute and CRC member) will be giving a brief background on the role of the Form of Subscription in the Reformed churches to set a starting point for maintaining biblical truth in a denomination. His speech will be followed by an open forum/panel discussion on the broader topic of the place of biblical truth in our local congregations and the role of our confessions. In light of rampant post-modernism - even an all-out assault on truth - in our society and even in our churches, this topic could not be more timely.

In Praise of Unity in Diversity

2008-02-28T10:17:00.000-08:00

by John Bolt

There is much to be said in favor of the currently fashionable emphasis on diversity. We are all enriched by authentic engagement with different cultures. They give us new perspectives, fresh angles on the human experience of living in God’s polychrome world. When we consider that each of us has a unique fingerprint and DNA we begin to grasp how much God loves diversity. None of us desires to go back to black and white television; how could we possibly prefer cultural insulation and isolation.

Diversity in catholicity

For Christians who take seriously the catholicity of the church, the gain is obvious. The rhythms, music, and dance of Africa, the deep wisdom of Asia, the Pentecostal passion of Latin America—when included with Bach, Handel and American gospel, with the Christian appropriation of Plato and Aristotle, with the spirituality of the Franciscans, the Dutch Second Reformation, the Great Awakening, Korean prayer warriors and Billy Graham—all this enriches us beyond our capacity to take it all in.

And yet . . . . diversity as we experience it today is a mixed blessing, shining discovery joined with shadowy politics. How did such a clearly beneficial emphasis become problematic for us? How did we manage to turn multi-culturalism into an ugly ideology; how did we subvert a plea for greater openness and understanding into a political hustle for power? How did we turn Dutch Calvinists who love the Genevan Psalms and were beginning to enjoy and even (slowly!) sway and clap to gospel, how did they morph into people aggravated by Al Sharpton?

Those who push diversity very hard are quick to point the finger at unresolved racism as the reason. They are probably not altogether wrong; the sin of racism is not far from any one of us and we need to acknowledge its lurking presence. Reformed folk, after all, are Augustinians and Calvinists, not Wesleyan perfectionists in their understanding of original sin. All the same, I believe there is a profound and positive reason for being uncomfortable with diversity as it is currently understood and promoted in society and church. The qualification is critical because the lingering question I have is whether there is any unity left after we have exalted diversity. Are those factors that distinguish us really greater than those that unite us as human beings, as fellow image bearers of God? And if we become uncomfortable with that conclusion, should the church not be proclaiming unity before emphasizing diversity—a unity by virtue of creation and then also a deeper unity in Christ?

The fundamental question

I believe that is the question properly posed to diversity advocates today: Do you believe that there is a fundamental and prior unity underlying all diversity in God’s creation? Do you believe that what we have in common with each other, universally, is far more important than those things that distinguish us from each other? For the Christian church, it seems to me, the answer is a clear YES! So let me state my understanding of this as a constructive principle, one rooted in a deep conviction about God himself: All diversity is grounded in and must therefore serve the prior unity of God, his world, his truth, and the humanity he created for his glory.

I claim no originality for this affirmation; I learned it from Herman Bavinck. As I spend more and more time with my teacher I am increasingly convinced that the socio-cultural, political, and intellectual issues we face today—the so-called challenge of post-modernism, for example—are really not all that new. Bavinck was aware of the tendency of modernity to drift toward nominalism and relativism as it jettisoned the intellectual moorings of Christian conviction about God and the world.

Put very simply—as the founders of modern science knew well—for us to be persuaded that our senses give us reliable knowledge about the world and that the scientific knowledge we accumulate is a reliable correspondence to reality, we need to believe that the universe is a creation and a cosmos, not a chaos. The order in the cosmos makes it possible to form universal concepts that are true. In what seems initially a counter-intuitive suggestion, Bavinck insists that when we “entertain concepts we are not distancing ourselves from reality but we increasingly approximate it.” (Reformed Dogmatics, I, 231) To abandon this conviction is to retreat into skepticism.

Unity in God

For Bavinck, the conviction that there is a deeper unity undergirding all diversity is finally grounded in the Christian belief that God has revealed himself to us as One Being, yet in three persons: “Just as God is one in essence and distinct in persons, so also the work of creation is one and undivided, while in its unity it is still rich in diversity.” (Reformed Dogmatics, II, 422) And in another place: “The unity and diversity in the works of God proceeds from and returns to the unity and diversity which exist in the Divine Being.” (Our Reasonable Faith, 144)

This fundamental conviction is the basis of a Christian worldview. The unity of God points to the unity of the human race created in the divine image. There is, Bavinck argues, no other foundation for international law. There is no other possible ground for international justice than the conviction, articulated in the American Declaration of Independence, that “all men are created equal” and for that reason have “inalienable rights.” Without such a basic belief, international relations become nothing more than power plays; the world becomes a Hobbesian jungle where the fittest survive and the weak are exterminated. Only the Christian doctrine of creation, accompanied by a belief in the catholicity of the church, is capable of creating a just international order: “International justice ultimately rests (and must rest), either implicitly or explicitly, on two pillars: the Christian principle of the oneness of the human race in origin and essence, and the principle of the catholicity of God’s kingdom.” (Essays on Religion, Science and Society, ed. J. Bolt, trans. H. Boonstra and G. Sheeres [Grand Rapids: Baker, 2008], 277)

I believe that this means we need to reconsider our push toward diversity. Not that we should deny diversity or fail to celebrate it in appropriate ways. However, diversity for its own sake will always disappoint and fail to achieve social good if it is not grounded in a prior conviction about unity. Our diversity rests in unity because God is one, his truth is one, the human race is one, the holy, catholic church is one.

Preaching Home Runs

2008-02-02T08:00:00.000-08:00

by Calvin P. Van Reken

For years now my kids and I have used baseball hitting as a metaphor for preaching success. When we hear a sermon we will discuss whether the preacher struck out, hit a single, double, triple, or a home run. While we never had strict criteria for evaluating a sermon’s success, in what follows I suggest some possibilities.

Truth

For a sermon to be a single, it needs to be true. A sermon cannot reach first base if the main point of the sermon and its central corollaries are not all true statements. I say the main point and central corollaries because it’s rare to hear a sermon in which some minor comment that is untrue isn’t said, usually it’s some kind of an overstatement. A preacher may get some statistics wrong, or have the problem I often seem to have with getting calculations correct. Such mistakes are bad enough, but a surprising number of sermons have main themes or central points that are false. Some preachers herald a health and wealth gospel; some preachers state, in effect, that you need to work your way into God’s good graces; some preachers tell you that you can improve yourself by trying harder.

Biblical

If a sermon gets to first base, it will get no further if it is not biblical. The Bible doesn’t teach every truth, it has very little on quantum mechanics or even on how to drive a car. A sermon can be true without saying something that is taught in the Bible. One common example of this occurs when a preacher spends a whole sermon explain something that is really pop psychology, and may be true enough, yet doesn’t announce any revealed truths at all. Or a preacher takes some effort retelling a Bible story, and then draws some comparison between the main characters and people today. No doubt this can be done so that nothing false is said–no doubt it’s true we need to have more courage like David did when we confront the Goliaths in our lives. Yet such moral truths are thin gruel for people who have come for a real meal. A sermon which is not biblical never gets to second base.

Textual

To get to third base, a sermon needs not only to be true and biblical, it must also be textual. This is not exactly the same as being biblical. A biblical sermon simply needs to be something revealed somewhere in the bible, to be textual a sermon has to express truths revealed in the text on which the sermon is based.

Relevant

Finally, to be a home run a sermon needs to be true, biblical, textual, and relevant. Some sermons are very good at explaining theological, spiritual, or moral truths without ever showing how such truths make any difference in the life of anyone. Such sermons languish on third base. Home run sermons always have some clear and specific applications showing how the textual truths uncovered can and should affect the real lives of those who hear it. A sermon should include how this word from the Lord matters, for example, to a teenage boy, or a stay at home mom, or a retired widower.

No preacher hits all home runs. Still, like Babe Ruth, a preacher ought always to aim for the fences.

The renewal of preaching

by Richard Lischer*

“The renewal of preaching will not begin with a new form or style of the sermon. It never has. The poet says, ‘I gave up fire for form till I was cold.’ No, not form. In fact, renewal will not begin with the sermon at all. It begins with those who make sermons. The first step in the recovery of preaching is the renewal of our faith in the priority of Jesus Christ and the priority of his language toward the world. In Luke’s account of the confusion at Pentecost (Acts 2), he does not tell us that the Holy Spirit created only one language or that there had ever only been one language of faith. ‘Each one heard them speaking in his [or her] own language’ (Acts 2:6). The miracle of Pentecost is that there is one Lord surrounded by many languages and world-views, who cannot be translated away. He must be restored to the center of our theology and church life.

“This recentering also takes place by means of language, but not the language of homiletics. Where do sermons come from? They come from prayer, worship, and the daily witness of ordinary Christians. We will not fix preaching by tinkering with our sermons by relearning the distinctive language of the church’s faith.

“It begins and ends in self-abandonment to the word of God.”

*Taken from Richard Lischer, “The Interrupted Sermon,” Interpretation 50 (1996): 179-180.

Epiphany 2008: New Year’s Resolutions

2008-01-07T06:38:00.000-08:00

by Arie C. Leder

A week into our first New Year’s in Puerto Rico the neighbor boys asked our twins: “¿Qué les trajeron los reyes?” “What did the kings bring you?” Three Kings Day, the last of the twelve days of Christmas, was a much anticipated event. Like the celebration of Sinterklaas in the Netherlands, children prepare for the day by placing hay in their shoes the evening before. For the kings’ horses, of course. Three Kings Day is still all about gifts; the gifts received, not given.

Three Kings Day, the feast of the Epiphany in the Christian liturgical calendar, is a new year’s festival. Many Christians, however, celebrate another, more secular, New Year’s festival: Resolutions. If Christmas is for giving others gifts, Resolutions is for giving ourselves gifts: no more smoking, dieting, more exercise, be more friendly, don’t touch what isn’t yours, and so on. And we fail, every year, usually. So, what kinds of resolutions?

An Epiphany

One of our resolutions may be to put Christ back into Christmas, make it less commercial. Next year, of course. Perhaps take over the Dutch tradition of small gifts, with poems, several weeks before Christmas. Too counter-cultural, I’m sure. Or do the twelve days of Christmas. In Puerto Rico we once practiced this: one gift a day for each child until Three Kings Day. We thought it was a good thing. We had a twelve day lament. Our laudable goal of connecting two important events on the liturgical calendar met with resolute opposition. We stuck with the Puerto Rican tradition of having a family night on “Noche Buena,” the night before Christmas. We still do.

Three Kings Day, Epiphany, is not about us receiving gifts, however, but about Christ receiving recognition of his kingship, and that from the ends of the earth (Ps. 72:10-11), right under the world’s nose. The powers that be were not pleased with this recognition (Matt. 2:3, 7-8), and sought to destroy him (Matt. 2:16-18). Herod’s agents slaughtered many children in Bethlehem.

Giving Christ gifts put him in danger; he escaped to die another day. It also places the giver in danger: to give Christ gifts is to honor his Kingship and no other; it puts the giver in deadly conflict with the powers of this world. But is that not what Paul urges his readers to do? Give Christ the gift of undying loyalty, be a living sacrifice in body and soul (Romans 12:1-2).

Sacrificial resolutions

Whether you want to quit smoking, clean up your language, work on your lust or greed, it will cost you dearly. You yourself have to change. The world’s inhabitants agree, it is good not to covet another’s spouse, to quit smoking, not to overeat. All are worthy goals and resolutions. But, what kind of resolutions is the church capable of, what goals does it consider crucial, worth dying for; what can the church resolve to do that the world has no interest in, and even opposes?

Let our worship connect more with the church of all ages, its hymns, prayers, and liturgies, for the sake of those whom the Lord will gather into his fold today. Serious worship takes place in the presence of God, not in the presence of the world. Let us be noticeably Christian in our liturgy and life-style. Let our worship be undefiled by the culture of this world.

Let us read Scripture as it has been once for all delivered to the saints. As in early Christianity, there are those today who would add “gospels” because, it is argued, the church did not give a fair hearing to other voices. But the so-called gospels of Peter, Philip and Judas take away from the apostolic testimony about Jesus Christ. The world loves these gospels; it makes Jesus more palatable. If Jesus was married he is a real guy, one “we can truly understand.” What can be wrong with that? Besides, those gospels give more room to women. Isn’t it time to expose the male dominated foundations of the church? So the argument goes. Let’s not add to Scripture for the sake of the world.

Let the church examine its ways with multiculturalism. Let it have an epiphany and resolve not to mirror the world’s desires for tolerant pluralities that have a strange way of undermining the truth we have confessed throughout the ages. Are the ecumenical creeds and the post-Reformation confessions really only true, or mostly true, for their own time? Let our commitment to the creeds and confessions remain as firm in 2057 as it was in 1857, 1907, and 1957.

None of these possible resolutions is easy to keep; we’ll be working on them way beyond next Epiphany. Until Jesus comes again. May he find us faithful, if tired to the bone.

Esther at Christmas: In Exile “Here”

2007-12-10T07:00:00.000-08:00

by Arie C. Leder

Luther argued that neither belonged to Scripture. Maimonides thought Esther was second in importance only to the Torah; what he thought about James I don’t know. I do know that the more I reflect on Esther the closer I come to Maimonides, no doubt for different reasons, and find greater similarity between Esther and James. Especially at Christmas.

The similarity begins with James’ address. He writes “to the twelve tribes scattered among the nations” (1:1); Esther’s Jews are scattered among the 127 provinces of Xerxes’ empire. Joy and testing are James’ first concern; Esther ends with joy and celebration. Taken together, Esther and James urge God’s people of every age to sing, “O come, O come, Immanuel, and ransom captive Israel, that dwells in lonely exile here.” Especially at Christmas.

Scattered like the exiles

Like Esther’s Jews, Christians live scattered among the nations. There’s nothing wrong with that. In Esther the Jews are not condemned for causing their own exile; there is no desire to return to Jerusalem, not a hint about God’s mighty acts of salvation, not a line about divine instructions and decrees. The Jews, including Mordecai and Esther, are simply there, citizens of Xerxes’ empire. It’s about them and what they do when their existence is threatened.

That is James’ problem, too. No glorying in the cross like Paul, no reveling in God’s mighty acts of rescue or the wonder of his grace. James only pushes his readers to exercise the faith once for all received, to embody the cross, to live out grace. We Christians are simply there, scattered among the nations, in China, Darfur, and Myanmar. James is about us Christians and what we do when we are tested, what our tongues achieve with our speech, how we keep ourselves from being polluted by the world (1:27).

Esther and James are about who we are and what we do, scattered among the nations. Especially at Christmas.

Keeping our identity in exile

In sickness or in health, James writes, remember who you are. Count it joy when something or someone tests your faith (1:2-3), that way you’ll grow up, stop whining, and learn patience (5:10). Want to be happy? Forget about prosperity, sing songs of praise (5:13). Remember what it’s all about: the truth about sin and turning from the way of death (5:19-20). Scattered among the nations, says James, is not bad; its what you let happen to yourselves there if you don’t keep the faith.

Haman, enemy of the Jews, was the way of death Mordecai and Esther turned from. With all the power of the empire Haman sought to rid the earth of the likes of Mordecai and Esther, people who wouldn’t bow to the ways of the world. At the gate and in the harem they used their tongues to steer Xerxes’ ship of state for the salvation of many. Their testing led to joy and celebration (9:22), to the annual memory of rescue from the enemy far from Jerusalem.

In exile “here”

Why do these things happen to the Jews and Christians? Opposition to God’s people in Esther, the early church, under the Inquisition, and in Darfur happens for one reason: we are in exile “here,” scattered among the nations, in this world. The world will not be kind to God’s elect; there you will only have trouble, Jesus said. In Esther Xerxes’ empire was not home for the Jews, but neither was earthly Jerusalem. Not a hint of “next year in Jerusalem!” Only this: remember what can happen to us in the world.

We who find ourselves scattered throughout the 127 provinces of the world, still await our true home. We are waiting for Immanuel. Even as Christ came to dwell among us after the first exile (Matt. 1:17, 23; John 1:14), so he will come again that we might dwell in the heavenly Jerusalem (Rev 21:24). In the meantime, let our faith define us, not the world, so that we may be found without defilement at his appearing (21:27).

Read Esther at Christmas, until the Son of God appear. Be joyful and celebrate, for we have received relief from our enemy (Esther 9:22; Col. 2:15).

Evangelism throughout the Generations

2007-12-10T06:47:00.000-08:00

“In a fair bit of Western evangelicalism, there is a worrying tendency to focus on the periphery. . . . [Dr. Paul Hiebert] analyzes his heritage in a fashion that he himself would acknowledge is something of a simplistic caricature, but a useful one nevertheless. One generation of Mennonites believed the gospel and held as well that there were certain social, economic, and political entailments. The next generation assumed the gospel, but identified with the entailments. The following generation denied the gospel: the “entailments” became everything. Assuming this sort of scheme for evangelicalism, one suspects that large swaths of the movement are lodged in the second step, with some drifting toward the third.”

D.A. Carson, Basics for Believers: An Exposition of Philippians (Baker, 1996)

Reading for Preaching

2007-10-27T08:49:00.000-07:00

Arie C. Leder

The constant pressure of relevance drives some preachers to movies and novels as illustrations or even as the fundamental texts for their sermons. Because contemporary seekers do not know–may even be offended by–the old, old story, contemporary fiction is an effective bridge to a hearing of the gospel. This assumes, of course, that the preacher’s fiction of choice is a known quantity for the seeker. What if they haven’t seen the movie or read the book? Not to worry, just retell the story to get into that story, so that maybe they’ll be willing to hear the old, old story during the last few minutes of your “talk.”

Wait a minute! Isn’t that what we used to do, take time to read and explain the old, old story? Do teachers of English literature use a “known” contemporary text to get the student into an “ancient” text, Pride and Prejudice, The Canterbury Tales, or even The Great Gatsby? Do you first watch one movie in order to understand another?

What is the relationship between our reading, or movie watching, and hearing the gospel as expressed in the ancient texts the Church privileges as Scripture?

Reflecting on Madeleine L’Engle’s fiction, Sally Thomas recalls that “as a child, raised on a relatively secular diet of mainstream Protestantism and utterly unaware of the existence of any theological problem beyond being mean to somebody on the playground, I was captivated by the notion that there was such a thing as evil and, conversely, that there was such a thing as good. The idea, further, that even the weak and the flawed were called to the battle–that there even was a battle–roused something in my imagination that years of Sunday School had somehow failed to touch.”(“Fantasy and Faith,” First Things [November 2007], 16.) But the biblical story is filled with wickedness and evil, goodness and grace. Why weren’t those stories told? Maybe because the teachers couldn’t abide the womanizing Samson, hatred between brothers, the depravity of sin manifested in the lives of all the biblical saints. And reconciliation.

Thomas concludes: “the novels themselves were not the gospel, and I don’t think I ever mistook them as such. But they awakened my mind to the idea of a universe in which, even in distant galaxies, God is praised in the familiar words of the Psalms.” Burying oneself into good literature is fine, La Suite Française is achingly beautiful. But it isn’t privileged Scripture. Why not read Scripture as intensively? Ask of it the questions you address your favorite fiction? It has long been the classic that discloses the human condition for what it really is, that speaks the truth about impious believers and arrogant seekers, and that, if you are willing to hear it, will move you mysteriously to the grace of God. Let that classic help us to penetrate to the human condition depicted in all sorts of fiction.

Dear BOT: About the proposed new Form of Subscription

2007-10-11T06:24:00.000-07:00

Christian Reformed Church in North America
Attn: Form of Subscription Revision Task Force
2850 Kalamazoo Ave. SE
Grand Rapids, MI 49560

Dear Fellow Servants of Jesus Christ:

We are writing to your committee to communicate our comments and suggestions regarding the proposed revisions to the Form of Subscription circulated to the churches through a memo from the office of the Executive Director dated August 27, 2007.

We wish to express our appreciation for the thought and effort that has been put into your initial report and for your efforts that have prompted our council and, we are certain many others as well, to once again think seriously about what it means for the Christian Reformed Church to be a confessionally Reformed denomination in 21st century North American culture. While we do indeed appreciate the obvious thought and effort evident in the document, we must also raise a number of serious concerns regarding the proposed revisions and the theological assumptions that seem to lie behind them.

There are, first of all, a number of logical inconsistencies or fallacies in the report. The report states on page one, “[T]he second [assumption] (that a regulatory instrument is needed to keep us orthodox) is increasingly being called into question.” Simply because it [the FOS] is being questioned, does not mean that the aforesaid questions are valid. One is left to wonder, if no regulatory instrument exists, then by what standard will we be able to judge ourselves to have remained orthodox, if that is indeed our desire. It is questionable given the historical experience of our tradition (the Afscheiding of 1834 and the Doleantie of 1886) that orthodoxy, in any meaningful sense, would long survive the revisions proposed by the committee. On the contrary, if history is any indicator, these proposed revisions would likely lead to heterodox church doctrine and practice, and occasion the very schism they wish to avert. Individual conscience appears to be the only safeguard remaining to preserve orthodoxy, but this is an unreliable defense at best. The proposed revisions would open to the door for individual interpretation and privilege such interpretation over and against communal interpretation of Scripture and theology.

The report also states, “Ironically it has been under the current FOS’s stern watch that a significant and increasing neglect of the confessions has occurred.” There are two logical problems with this statement. First of all, because deviation from accepted norms has occurred, “under the current FOS’s stern watch” does not in any way imply a weakness or deficiency in the FOS, but rather in our willingness to live up to our covenantal promises as officebearers. Second, it strains the limits of credulity to believe that the proposed revisions will resolve the problem of neglect that the committee identifies. If anything the proposed revisions are likely to further exacerbate the problem rather than resolve it, unless one considers ignoring the problem an acceptable solution. The proposed “Covenant of Ordination” states, “We accept the historic confessions: the Belgic Confession, the Heidelberg Catechism, and the Canons of Dort, as well as Our World Belongs to God: A Contemporary Testimony, as faithful expressions of the church’s understanding of the gospel for its time and place, which define our tradition and continue to guide us today.”

It is difficult to understand how the confessions could offer any guidance or serve to define our identity if we are able to reject them at will if they conflict with “our understanding of the Scriptures”. It is also difficult to understand how the confessions could be viewed as, “faithful expressions of the church’s understanding of the gospel for its time and place,” if they are so evidently deficient.

In addition to these logical fallacies, there are also historical inaccuracies in the report. Some of these, including the occasion of the Afscheiding of 1834 and the Doleantie of 1886 and their relationship to a similar attitude of confessional laxity have already been alluded to. In addition, the report states, “It seems clear to our committee that, historically, the FOS has functioned negatively to effectively shut down discussion on various confessional issues rather than positively to encourage the ongoing development of the confessions in the life of the church. In other words, the FOS has been used to define a standard of purity in the church more than being a witness to unity.” This is simply not the case as recent discussions/disagreements regarding women in office, the revision of Q&A 80 of the Heidelberg Catechism, children at the Lord’s Supper and many other issues clearly demonstrate.

On a more technical note, the committee has clearly gone beyond its mandate to proposed revisions to the FOS. The proposed revisions are in actuality a replacement of the current FOS, not a revision of it. In addition, the inclusion of Our World Belongs to God: A Contemporary Testimony, as a document equal to the confessions also goes far beyond the mandated bounds of the committee’s assigned work. For these reasons we encourage the committee to significantly re-think the proposed revisions.

In the Service of Christ and his Church,

First Christian Reformed Church
1450 Catherine Ave.
Muskegon, MI 49442

Michael Borgert, Pastor
Allan VanderPloeg, Clerk of Council

Published with permission

Latest Meeting of the Returning Church

2007-10-03T06:42:00.000-07:00

by The Returning Church Committee

On September 13 there was a meeting of the Returning Church in Oskaloosa, Iowa, organized by Rev. Marv Leese (Bethel CRC, Oskaloosa) and Rev. Jack Gray (Sully CRC, IA). There were about 85 in attendance which is a good starting point and a show of God's blessing.

Rev. Leese opened the meeting with a mediation on John 17:20-23 and Jesus' prayer for unity in the church. Rev. CJ denDulk (Trinity CRC, Sparta, MI) followed by speaking on II Kings 22 and Josiah's reforms based on the discovery of God's Word. Unity and God's Word certainly were central themes for the evening.

There was also a Q&A time where various issues and topics were raised, including biblical complementarianism, nurturing our covenant youth, the "Form of Subscription" revisions (see below) and other challenges to ministry. It was noted that the CRC has always sought to be biblical, and that must be encouraged and insisted upon going forward.

The question was asked, "What are you 'returning' to?" That is a great question and one that needs to be brought up often. The reply went something like this - we are prone to wander - as individuals, as congregations and as denomination. And recognizing that fact we must return to God every day, seeking Him at His Word. This Returning Church movement is not issue-centered, as some have claimed, but focused on returning us back to God and living for His glory each and every day.

This meeting in Iowa was almost one year to the date of the first Returning Church meeting in Byron Center, MI. God has seen fit to draw many people into the discussion around both the U.S. and Canada. May God answer our prayers and bring genuine revival and reform to the CRC.

The following day, Rev. Henry Reyenga (Family of Faith CRC, Monee, IL) and Rev. Ben Tol (1st CRC, South Holland, IL) invited several pastors to meet at 1st CRC in South Holland, IL, to further the discussion about particular issues and to introduce others to the ideas behind this movement. Many expressed a growing need for theological classes – where churches can show their unity in working together without binding their consciences. Again, biblical complementarianism and the "Form of Subscription" were discussed.

All of your church Council's should have received a copy of the proposed revision to the “Form of Subscription” that all office-bearers sign in the CRC. There are some concerns with the revisions. If you’d like to see more of that discussion, go to www.returningchurch.blogspot.com. Several pastors are meeting next week in West Michigan to discuss this with the hopes to come up with an outline that churches can use to formulate overtures if they so choose. That outline will be available if you would like it. The “Form of Subscription” stands at the heart of the CRC being a confessional church, so this won’t be the last email mentioning it.

We encourage the gathering of pastors and elders in your area and when you do, to stay in contact with us. We will advertise on the blog and also via email, if you'd like. In the meantime, keep our denomination a matter of your prayers. We certainly all need it as we tread these waters and seek to faithfully minister to the congregations and community in which God has placed us.

In Christ,
The Returning Church

The Sufferer's Wisdom: The Book of Job

2007-10-02T10:43:00.000-07:00

by Ellen F. Davis

“It is safe to say that at the present time the church makes little use of the book of Job for its pastoral ministry. This has not always been the case. The medieval church made heavy use of it in preparing Christian souls to deal with suffering without falling away from their faith. But the modern church has pulled back, even in recent decades. Episcopalians may discover a sign of our retreat in the latest revision of The Book of Common Prayer (1979). The Burial Office retains the luminous affirmation: “I know that my Redeemer liveth” (Job 19:25). But gone is Job’s statement of resigned grief: “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” (1:21). “The Lord hath taken away”–does that in fact express resignation, or is it the beginning of an accusation? That troublingly ambiguous statement is in the 1928 version of The Book of Common Prayer, but the 1979 version pitched it out. And one must ask, Why? Have we grown afraid to lodge the responsibility for our grief with the Lord, as Job so consistently does?

"The focal point of the book is not God's justice . . . , but rather the problem of human pain: how Job endures it, cries out of it, wrestles furiously with God in the midst of it, and ultimately transcends his pain--or better, is transformed through it."

-from Getting Involved with God (Cambridge: Cowley, 2001), 121, 122.

Five Reasons for Reconsidering the New Form of Subscription

2007-09-27T08:45:00.000-07:00

Excerpted from a letter to the Board of Trustees of the CRCNA

by Raymond A. Blacketer

As for the deficits of the report, I offer a brief summary. First, the report presents a highly skewed interpretation of Reformed church history and the role of the Form of Subscription (FOS) in that history. It demonstrates no awareness of the role that the Form of Subscription played in the Secession (Afscheiding) of 1834 or the Doleantie (Abraham Kuyper's Reformation of 1886), namely, that the loosening or removal of this instrument was among the causes of these secessions of orthodox, Reformed believers from a church in which the liberal, elite hierarchy no longer valued the confessions.

Further, it portrays the function of the Form of Subscription in exaggerated, overly dramatic terms as a kind of tool of Calvinist Inquisition, or an Ecclesiastical Gestapo, which has little basis in historical fact or in the normal functioning of this document in the life of our churches.

Thirdly, the report makes the unsubstantiated and easily refuted claim that the FOS has stifled discussion and silenced dissent in the CRCNA. Given the healthy, if sometimes bitter, debate our churches have carried on over the past decades over the ordination of women, the relationship between creation and science, the revision of Heidelberg Catechism Q&A 80, and children at the Lord's Supper, this contention is self-evidently false. The report casts doubt on whether “a regulatory instrument is needed to keep us orthodox.” Aside from the dubious and highly debatable nature of this claim, it was not the committee’s mandate to fundamentally alter the nature of the Form of Subscription, but, more modestly, to make it clearer and more understandable for officebearers, and to anticipate and forestall some of the objections and misconceptions that officebearers might have.

Fourth, the committee represents a very one-sided perspective that is strongly biased against the Reformed confessional tradition and that is steeped in the dubious claims of post-modernism, which relativizes and temporizes all truth. It is not the place of a task force to decide for the churches that our Form of Subscription no longer speaks to our current intellectual climate. Rather than accommodating ourselves to this reigning cultural world-view, we as a church should be resisting this radical subjectivism. C. S. Lewis famously criticized this phenomenon, which he called “chronological snobbery,” as “the uncritical acceptance of the intellectual climate common to our own age and the assumption that whatever has gone out of date is on that account discredited” (Surprised by Joy, 207).

Finally, the task force has exceeded its mandate and authority by elevating the Contemporary Testimony to a doctrinal standard. In addition to its failure to carefully study the nature and function of confessional subscription in our Dutch Reformed tradition and in other confessional traditions (e.g. Lutheran and Presbyterian), the committee has failed to reflect theologically on the distinction between a frequently revised and less binding contemporary testimony and the historic Reformed confessions.

In sum, I foresee that this report in its present state will be unacceptable to many officebearers and church councils and consistories. It undermines our confessional tradition, which is the one element that binds all of the various mindsets of the CRC together. It is certain to cause division and has great potential to lead to secession from the church, a secession which, unlike that of the early 1990's, would be historically justifiable on the basis of the 1834 and 1886 secessions. Moreover, it will further deepen the distrust that many members feel regarding the confessional integrity and sincerity of the denomination and its leadership.

Sincerely, in the work of Christ's kingdom, and in the service of the universal church and as an ordained servant in the Christian Reformed Church in North America.

Raymond A. Blacketer is minister of the Neerlandia (Alberta) Christian Reformed Church.

When you recite the Apostles’ Creed and say, “I believe . . . .”

2007-08-22T08:02:00.000-07:00

“The man or woman in the early centuries of the Christian tradition who with great seriousness and excitement said ‘I believe’ and then repeated the Christian community’s confession of faith was not attempting to state the personal beliefs of a private individual. On the contrary, the primary intention and meaning of that affirmation was to identify herself or himself as a participating member of a community and a tradition, both of which were quite objective to the individual and, in fact, formative of that individual’s new life.

“Fundamental, important beliefs thus point not so much to a private subjective world as they point to some historical tradition and to the community that bears that tradition and lives from or within it. The symbolic contents of the creed, what was believed, were thus actually more creative of the individual’s inner or subjective life than the reverse; and that public content had that crucial shaping role because it was, in turn, the significant factor creative of the tradition in question, of the community in which every individual lived and acted, of the ‘world’–nature, history, the divine–surrounding the persons in that tradition and community.

“‘Belief’ on the deepest level has reference to the symbolic forms that structure the perspectives, the norms, and thus the life of objective historical communities. This is evident enough in religious communities where there is an explicit correlation or coherent unity among beliefs about reality (expressed in a creed or its equivalent), rules or law covering ordinary behavior, rituals and practices, and thus a total and all-encompassing style of life shared by the whole community.

“To say ‘I believe’ in that context is first of all to associate oneself as participant on the deepest level in such an objective religious and yet also social world borne by a given historical religious tradition and embodied in both the inner and the outer life of each member of that community.”

Langdon Gilkey, Message and Existence. An Introduction to Christian Theology (Minneapolis: Seabury, 1979), 24-25. (Emphasis added.)

The Covenant and Infant Baptism

2007-08-13T12:54:00.000-07:00

a sermon by Calvin P. Van Reken*
Scripture reading: Genesis 17 and Galatians 3

Today in the church there are many people who wonder why we baptize infants. Even some who are Christian Reformed think it acceptable, maybe even preferable, to dedicate babies. But we didn’t dedicate Austin John this morning – he was baptized. God is the one who acts in baptism, the minister is only God’s agent.

This morning Austin's parents did not dedicate him to God. No, this morning God did something, God claimed Austin as His very own child. Dedication is something we do. Baptism is something God does.

This morning I want to tell you why children, even infants, receive baptism. In telling you about this I will need to touch on what baptism means. For this I will need to explain the broader context, the greater reality, of which baptism is a part. Let me start, though, with the underlying reason why so many people today struggle with infant baptism. That reason is that our society is radically individualistic. The church and popular theology have been significantly affected by this individualism.

Radical Individualism

At the beginning of its European immigrant origins, America was settled populated with people who were willing to leave the familiar surroundings of villages and cities, of family and friends, to come to the New World; striking out on their own where the success and failure, life and death, would be almost entirely up to their individual abilities. They did not and could not count on any social network to support them. It was up to each individual to make it in the world. Of course, there was cooperation, but it only worked when it was to everyone’s benefit. “If I can get ahead by working with you, or helping you, then I’ll do it, but not simply because of other social ties, not because you live in my village or even because we are related.”

What developed then was a society where the individual’s decisions were the most important in determining the course of that person’s life. A society in which social ties were largely based on individual self-interest. You can see the effects of this today: while counties in Europe have become increasingly socialistic, setting up programs so that everyone has health care, retirement income, education, and the like. The US has been very reluctant to follow Europe’s example. (I’m not here making any claim about whether that’s good or bad, just that the US is different.)

We can see this radical individualism in our own attitudes, too. It’s possible, even common, in the US for one family member to be quite wealthy, and his brothers and sisters to just struggle to get by. You may have some very wealthy friends, but they probably have never given you any money. Our idea is that each person is responsible for his or her own success and failure, even members of the same family.

It’s quite different other places. In parts of Africa, if one family member starts a business and has success, all his family members, relatives, even fellow tribes members will come to him with expectations of help. One person cannot succeed unless everyone in his clan does. This makes it very hard to succeed, to build and accounts in part for some of the financial troubles in Africa.

The reason people have a problem with infant baptism

Now, what does this have to do with infant baptism? Well, individualism says each person stands or dies on his/her own merits. Apply that to Christianity and it means each person as an individual stands or falls on his/her own. It isn’t your family, or relatives, or church that secures your salvation, you must do it yourself.

Wait a minute, though, we Protestants know the basic teaching of salvation that it is not earned at all, it is by God’s grace in Jesus Christ through faith. The requirement on our part is to have faith, so radical individualism concludes each individual must have personal faith to be saved. Now little children do not have any faith in Jesus, a three month old can hardly frame even simple ideas, he’s not at a stage of basic recognition of what is familiar and what is not. The fact that small infants can’t have any faith in Jesus seems to imply that they can’t be saved–so they shouldn’t be baptized.

Let me make it clear, the main reason people in the US object to baptizing infants is due to the influence of radical individualism which says each and every individual needs to have faith of his or her own to be saved. Now, while radical individualism may be a good way to think if you want a prosperous society, it isn’t the basis for how God thinks or acts. So let’s consider the account in the Bible in which God explains how he planned to save us.

God’s Deep and Wide Covenant

In Genesis 17, God confirms his covenant with Abraham. A covenant is sometimes said to be like a contract where each party promises something and agrees to some conditions. A person could have a contract to supply windows for a new house, that’s his side of the deal and in return he will get paid. But we didn’t really have a contract with God Almighty; he simply announces what he will do and what our responses to Him must be.

Look at what God says in verse 7 of Genesis 17. “I will establish my covenant as an everlasting covenant between me and you and your descendants after you for the generations to come, to be your God and the God of your descendants after you.” Here you should note four things. First, that God establishes his covenant. It isn’t contingent on Abraham, it doesn’t depend on his descendants, God establishes it. Second, it is an everlasting covenant, it is established by God. He makes it and he will never let go of the promises included in it. Third, one promise that God makes is that he will be Abraham’s God. That is, Abraham will belong to God. This is a promise of salvation. Fourth and important for us this morning as we consider infant baptism, the covenant is not just between God and Abraham but “Abraham and his descendants for the generations to come.”

God doesn’t just think in terms of individuals, his eye is on whole generations of a family. God not only makes promises to living persons, but to future generations. His covenant grace is deep; it is generational.

The idea is rather simple, really. Remember, being in the covenant means you belong to God. Now suppose someone, say Bob, is a rancher and Bob owns a herd of cattle that roam around the range. They all have Bob’s brand on them. One day Bob is out checking his herd and he finds that some new calves were born. Now consider this: to whom do the calves belong? Is this a hard question? Bob doesn’t think, “When these calves grow up I can buy them.” He doesn’t worry that they don’t have his brand on them. Rather he rounds up the new calves and puts his brand on them, they belong to him. Infant baptism is God putting his name on a child who belongs to him. He is claiming a child as his own. He shows us that the child is in the covenant.

In Genesis 17, God goes on to tell Abraham that the sign of this everlasting covenant is to be circumcised. Each of Abraham’s male descendants must receive circumcision when they are eight days old. This was branding them physically so that they would be identifiable as belonging to God. And Abraham is told not just to circumcise his own sons, but anyone in his household.

Listen to Genesis 17:13 – “Whether born in your household or bought with your own money they must be circumcised.” You see, the covenant extends not only to Abraham and his sons but to anyone that belongs to Abraham. It makes since, what belongs to Abraham, belongs to God, because all belongs to God.

God’s covenant of grace not only deep, extending through all generations, it is also wide. It includes even those who are not, physically speaking, the children of Abraham. And right after explaining circumcision to Abraham, God goes on to make it clear that girls and women are in the covenant too. He tells Abraham that her name will not be Sarah; He gives her a new name. Who gave you your name? Wasn’t it your parents? The ones you belong to? So by renaming Sarah, God makes it clear that Sarah is also in God’s covenant.

So God’s plan of salvation is to make a covenant with Abraham, to be His God to save him and his wife, his sons, his daughters, his servants; down through the generations, long after Abraham himself is dead. God’s salvation extends to all who are connected to Abraham,

Covenant “connections”

Now this seems to our ears rather unfair. Why should Abraham’s great grandson be included in God’s covenant, while some other person’s grandchild is not included? It would be fairer to let each person decide for himself or herself whether he or she wants to be in the covenant. Then it would be each person’s choice rather than what ancestral connections you have. You see, our radical individualism finds a flaw in God’s plan. Salvation is too important; it shouldn’t be based on what connections you have.

The fact is, though, that a lot of other important things that happen to a person are because of their connections to others, not because of any individual choice. My great grandparents packed up and left the Netherlands and moved to the US. As a result, I am a citizen of the USA, not the Netherlands. I’m a member of the CRC, not the Protestant Church of the Netherlands. I went to Calvin College, not the Free University in Amsterdam. My parents decided to live in the suburbs of Chicago, so I cheer for the Chicago Bears and the Bulls and the Blackhawks. Not for the Detroit Lions, Pistons, or Red Wings. When the University of Michigan plays Michigan State, I hope they both lose.

All of these facts about me can be traced to a decision that my great grandparents made, I had no voice in their choice, but it had a great effect on my life. It’s true in all our lives that who we are connected to makes a lot of difference.

It’s also true in the Bible. Consider how the fortunes of Israel would ebb and flow depending on what sort of king they had. If they had an evil king, they would soon have trouble in their lives. God’s judgment affected the whole nation. Foreign peoples would invade and threaten Israel or Judah. Living under a bad king meant a more difficult life, perhaps even an early death.

A second and important case in the Bible is the fall into sin. When Adam and Eve sinned, every one of their descendants, including you and me, was seriously affected. Our lives were altered for the worse, far worse. Instead of loving God and each other, we are born with a disposition to hate God and to hate others.

We got this disposition to be self-centered and fearful because of a decision of Adam and Eve. But we had no part of it, did we? We weren’t back there in the garden, chosing to sin against God. Why should we have to suffer so because of the decision of someone else? Well, because we are connected to Adam and Eve, they are our parents and what they decide has effects for us. So the idea that Abraham’s descendants are favored by being included in the covenant with God, even though they didn’t choose it fits a pattern we know. God does not deal with us based only/primarily on the choices we each make individually. He works with families, communities, nations, and humankind as a whole.

If we now look at Galatians 3, we can see how God’s covenant was advanced perfectly in Jesus Christ.

Connected to Jesus by faith

Jesus, a descendant of Abraham, came into our sinful mess and lived a perfect life; he died as a sacrifice for the sins of those who belong to God and he rose again. The connection that matters for salvation is not a blood connection to Abraham, but a faith connection to Abraham’s seed, believing not just that he died but that he’s living today. Such faith connects us to him and all the promises and benefits that he has earned--salvation, peace, joy, contentment, an eternal home. These belong to us as well because we are connected to him. We are not physical descendants of Jesus – our connection is not one of blood – our connection is by faith.

That brings us back to the question, though; don’t we each individually need to have faith to be connected to Jesus? To be baptized? The straight answer is – NO.

Remember God works through families and communities; families with a true faith, communities of faith. What belongs to a family of faith and to a community of faith – belongs to God. Sometimes a person will reject the faith of his or her family and break off any connection with the community of faith. When that happens, we don’t know exactly what to say. God knows who belongs to him – we can’t always tell, but usually we can. A child in a Christian home is a child of the covenant – there’s faith in that home. A family or a person who chooses to identify with a community of faith – there’s faith there, too.

The problem with our radical individualism is that it robs us of the comfort and consolation of God’s grace so often because we know ourselves too well – our sin and lack of faith to be comfortable with the idea that our future condition and our eternal destiny depends on us. If you are baptized into Christ Jesus your connection to him by faith is what makes all the difference.

The child that was baptized this morning is too little to have his own faith yet. Someday you may be too old and perhaps you may not be able to remember who you are. Sometimes even now you may be overwhelmed and wonder whether you have faith.

Remember, what matters is that you belong to Jesus, that you are connected to him, not just as an individual, but because you are a member of his family. You have been baptized, and God has placed the mark of his ownership on you. So even when your faith wavers, or your mind wanders, or your life seems headed in the wrong direction, you need to that you belong body and soul to your faithful Savior, Jesus Christ. This is our only comfort in life and death.

*Dr. Van Reken delivered this sermon at Beckwith Hills Christian Reformed Church, Grand Rapids, Michigan, earlier this year.

2007-06-15T11:06:00.000-07:00

This is my body
Arie C. Leder

Every Sunday they worship among us, sing with us, and enjoy coffee and cookies afterwards. Like us they sit with their own or “adopted” families. No more noticeable than the young couple almost sitting on top of each other, the spoiled child loudly manipulating her parents, or the seniors occupying the back pew, they belong; they are our “Friends.”

Sometime during the week, several times a month, “Friendship” groups gather in many Christian Reformed churches in Canada and the United States. These groups are served by Friendship Ministries (www.friendship.org), whose mission is “to share God’s love with people who have cognitive impairments and to enable them to become an active part of God’s family.” And active they are.

Frank loves singing. The music he sings is recognizable, but not always pleasant for pew neighbors. Frank specializes making a joyous noise to the Lord. Moreover, if it’s a hymn Frank learned before the gray hymnal appeared he sings it blue hymnal style, politically correct changes in the words notwithstanding. Judy worships with deep certainty: every liturgical “Amen” is underscored by her own “Amen!” Her aging father was not always pleased with her worship style, her wanting to stand, by herself (she is wheelchair bound), finding the hymns, by herself. And then there is, let me call him George. When he sings he often raises his left arm, makes a fist, and then pumps the arm up throughout the song. More power to him. There are many such friends, cognitively and physically impaired, who belong to the body of Christ. Does this mean that the body of Christ is impaired?

Broken body theology

Disability has entered the theological discussion in articles such as “The Body of Christ has Down’s Syndrome,” (Journal of Pastoral Theology 13.2 [Fall 2003]: 66-78), by John Swinton: “The Disabled Body of Christ as A Critical Metaphor–Towards a Theory (Journal of Religion, Disability and Health [ 7.4 (2003]: 25-40), by Susanne Rappmann; “Redeemed Bodies: Fullness of Life,” (Human Disability and the Service of God. Reassessing Religious Practice [Abingdon, 1998], 123-143), by Barbara A. B. Patterson; and “God in our Flesh: Body Theology and Religious Education” (Religious Education 98.1 [2003]: 82-94) by Christopher K. Richardson.

Opinions move from the disabled body being a metaphor (Rappmann), to an argument for disability as another kind of diversity (Patterson), to the position that the body, including its disabled form, “is the midpoint and locus of communication between God and us,” that “the body becomes the speaker, rather than the spoken to; it is the teacher rather than the taught. Not objects to be shaped by scripture and tradition, but active Words of God to shape scripture and tradition, bodies (which ultimately means whole human beings as body-selves) are given a place befitting that of the children of God.” In other words, bodies have revelatory potential. (Richardson, 84-85, representing the position of James B. Nelson’s Body Theology). Broken bodies, then, are as “whole” as other “normal” bodies (authors speak of the “hegemony” of the normal); God doesn’t make mistakes. Students preparing for a career in speech pathology learn about the “deaf culture” which opposes hearing implants. Such intervention would be cultural suicide. Sign language is normal, not abnormal.

The Christian tradition holds that when Jesus Christ comes again the blind will see, the lame will walk, the deaf will hear, the lepers will be cured, and the dead will be raised. Christ himself provided a foretaste of this new world (Matt. 11:4-6). The new earth, in which righteousness dwells (2 Peter 3:13), will be discontinuous with the old world, including all those disorders, personal and social, that characterized the old order (Rev. 21: 3-4). The new view argues for continuity between the present and the future. One might say, the future is now. In this view the body defines us: your body, my body, whatever its shape or condition, I imagine, is the means of communication between you and God. You are your body. Somehow, I’m not comforted by that thought.

The body that defines us

The impulse toward the newer body theology no doubt is rooted in the marginalization and abuse disabled people have suffered throughout the ages and the desire to correct this. Their inclusion in theological reflection is healthy, as is the renewed focus on the role of the body as such. It should, however, take into consideration the church’s classic theological formulations about these matters. Classic Christian thought is clear about one thing: we are not our bodies, whatever their condition or shape; we are body and soul. This is universally the case. From this it follows that the body, whatever its shape or condition, does not make us who we are. There is a spiritual component that must be considered.

Scripture has a high view of the body–it was created good and for human enjoyment in the service of God. Nevertheless, it declares that the post-fall body suffers all kinds of brokenness, so much so, that Paul defines the body as “the perishable” that will arise “imperishable” on the last day (1 Cor 15:50-56). The greatest deformity the body suffers is sin (Rom 6:11-14), which expresses itself in all kinds of brokenness, physical and spiritual. From this point of view, the normal human state is that of being broken, by sin and its consequences. Because noone escapes this reality the faithful are urged to call upon the elders in times of sickness and sin, both of which disable the human person, that there may be well-being and forgiveness (James 5:14-16).

The body that is sick or stricken by sin, Martin C. Albl argues, is taken up into a wider web of relationships:

“The patient does not experience healing as an isolated individual. The community body, led by the elders, must gather and show its united support through prayer, confession, and public ritual. As integrity is restored to the individual body, so it is reinforced in the community body.

“Beyond the community level, the individual healing has cosmic significance. Healing of a single person does not merely ‘symbolize’ or ‘foreshadow’ his or her eschatological salvation. Rather, the ritual anointing and community prayers move the patient into the realm of both bodily healing and eschatological salvation. The system does not separate the two.” (“‘Are any among you sick?’ The Health Care System in the letter of James,” Journal of Biblical Literature 121.1 [2002]: 142-143.)

The community Albl refers to is, of course, the church, the body of Jesus Christ. That body defines the body and soul of all who are its members by faith. We are not our bodies. Frank is not his body, neither are Judy, George, or Martin, who once told a minister that he was preaching too long, their bodies. All of us, broken in body and soul, may be comforted by the truth that we “belong, body and soul, in life and in death, to (our) faithful Savior Jesus Christ” (Heidelberg Catechism, QA 1).

What They're Saying

2007-06-14T12:35:00.000-07:00

God’s spiritual discipline

“The connection between apatheia and self-giving love (agapé) is crucial. In teaching apatheia as a spiritual discipline, the constant emphasis of the patristic theologians is on growing to be free of irrational feelings and fantasies that stem from self-love, from vanity and wounded pride. That is, apatheia, as either an attribute of God or a Christian virtue in this world and ‘beatitude’ for the world to come, is the opposite of what we normally call an emotional reaction. It is, rather, an aspect of the ‘eternal changelessness’ of divine love, ‘God’s everlasting outpouring,’ flowing in and (sic) from the Godhead and at work also in the human creature.

“Viewed in relation to divine love, it seems clear that the doctrine of apatheia functions to make two crucial assertions about God’s involvement with the world. Negatively, it refutes the possibility that the God known to Israel can ever become estranged from humanity or any part of it–unlike the highly emotional and therefore fickle gods worshiped by the Mesopotamians, the Greeks, or the Romans. Positively, the doctrine of apatheia affirms that God can be genuinely involved in events that happen in time, in human events, without either being formed or diminished by them.

“It is especially apt to consider the patristic teaching of apatheia . . . because I believe that the biblical concept of covenant is a way of making, through the medium of narrative, these same crucial assertions. Covenant is the stabilizing mechanism that allows God to remain profoundly involved in the contingent events of history, responding in various ways to the often distressingly unstable human situations and heart, yet without essential change in either the divine being or the divine disposition toward those whom God has made. The first indication of this function of covenant occurs within the early chapters of Genesis, when the original covenant is established, through Noah, with ‘all flesh’ (Gen 9:17). It is telling that the recognition that hurts God to the heart and leaders to the flood–namely, that ‘every inclination of the thought of [the human] heart is purely evil all the time’ (Gen 6:5)–is the very recognition that, immediately after the flood, moves God to forswear further destruction and enter into covenant with this creature whose heart inclines to evil ‘from his youth’ (8:21). And from this recognition the whole of biblical history unfolds. Now, it is foreseeable that there will be other occasions for God to be ‘hurt to the heart,’ yet covenant represents God’s own renunciation of an emotional reaction. It is God’s choice, one might say, of the spiritual discipline of apatheia.”

Ellen F. Davis, “Vulnerability, the Condition of the Covenant,” in The Art of Reading Scripture (Eerdmans, 2003), 292-293.

Sesquicentennial Reflections

2007-05-07T08:08:00.000-07:00

1857 - 2007: From CRC to ACRC?
Arie C. Leder

Since 1880 we have been known as the Christian Reformed Church, even though the adjective “Holland” was still attached at that time. It wasn’t our first name, however. From April 8, 1857, the birth date of the CRC, to 1880, the following names described us: Holland Reformed, True Dutch Reformed, the Christian Seceded Church, the True Holland Reformed Church. The latter name was in use from 1864. Churches were given the freedom not to use “true.” Our first local option decision.

The first hundred years
The variety of names discloses the nascent community’s struggle to define itself in the new world, not only in terms of its experiences in the Netherlands, but also the more recent attempts to distinguish itself from the Dutch Reformed Church (now the RCA) from whom our ancestors seceded in 1857. It was about being true to the Reformed traditions as they understood them.

On April 8, 1907 the CRC celebrated its 50th anniversary at the Auditorium on South Ionia Street in Grand Rapids, Michigan. The gathering, as it was called, consisted of opening and closing prayers, congregational and choral singing in English and Dutch, a poem of welcome, and several short speeches. Rev. Henry Beets delivered the first speech in English: “The Christian Reformed Church in its Origin and Period of Struggle.” The others, delivered in Dutch, were: “The Character of Our People, the Dark and the Light Side (“Het Karakter van ons Volk, naar Schaduw- en Lichtzijde.”) by Rev. I. Van Dellen; “Our Dangers” (Onze Gevaren”) by Rev. H. Van Hoogen (Read by Rev. J. W. Brink because Van Hoogen had died.); “The Christian Reformed Pulpit in America” (De Christelijk Gereformeerde Kansel in Amerika”) by Rev. K. Van Goor; and, “Our Calling and Ideals for the Future” (Onze Roeping en Idealen voor de Toekomst”) by Rev. J. Groen. These and other full length addresses may be found in J. Noordewier, et. al., Gedenkboek van het Vijftigjarig Jubileum der Christelijke Gereformeerde Kerk A.D. 1857-1907 (Grand Rapids: J. B. Hulst and B. Sevensma, 1907.).

By 1907 the CRC was on the way to becoming an American church. The founders of the church had passed on; a younger generation was in charge. The youthful vigor and immaturity of the CRC formed the basis for Van Hoogen’s reflection. He warned the CRC of the potential for recklessness; of the challenges of its diversity–at that time the variety of Dutch backgrounds that made it difficult to work together; and the questioning of the crucial difference between the world and the church so much a part of becoming more American. The CRC must remain, so Van Hoogen, counter-cultural.

Fifty years later Dr. John H. Kromminga reflected on the CRC’s one hundred years in his In The Mirror. An Appraisal of the Christian Reformed Church (Hamilton: Guardian, 1957). By this time post World War 2 immigration to Canada had begun to shape the CRC experience, the Dutch language had disappeared from almost all pulpits in the US and by the 1960s was heard from few pulpits in Canada. Our confessional roots were valued, church life began receiving a neo-Kuyperian sheen, mostly in Canada. But being a church in the world was still a challenge. Kromminga acknowledges that Americanization was a problem for the CRC, but that it also presented new opportunities. The isolation of language had been mostly overcome, but other forms of isolation remained: dependence on the Netherlands, the Reformed distinctiveness as expressed through separate institutions, and the lack of cooperation with other denominations. None of these enable true evangelism. “Isolationism,” he writes, “ fosters a diminished view of the needs of the world . . . has either no conception if the needs of the world or no concern with them” (53). But, “the perils of contact are essentially the perils of conformity.” One of the perils of greater contact in America is losing theological distinctiveness: “One student of American culture has spoken of a recent period in American history when ‘religion prospered while theology slowly went bankrupt.’ The fact is that American religion is theologically illiterate because that which was different was, by silent common consent, not to be mentioned in our democracy” (55).

He concludes his reflection on conformity thus:

“Contact with such [an American] environment must mean one of two things. It will mean conformity or it will mean friction. For theological distinctiveness is diametrically opposed to it. The Christian Reformed Church is lost if it conforms. No one can say in advance whether it can survive the friction which will result it retains its distinctiveness while establishing contact. And yet, in the face of all this, the church cannot rest satisfied with the isolated way.”

“Thus it would be sheer folly to act as if the situation of the Christian Reformed Church were secure and her future established. The realities of life are cruel and disturbing. The only possible course of action seems to be to retain and develop such an isolation as will produce distinctiveness–genuine distinctiveness; and then to proceed with that distinctiveness into aggressive contact. This, at the cost of the ease and tranquility of the denomination, would be a potential source of good, not only to the denomination itself, but to the other churches round about” (58).

From our CRC to ACRC: Ecclesiastical Syntax
We don’t yet know what the 2007 anniversary book of reflections will say about us. This much is true: The CRC of 1957 was not that of 1907, nor is the CRC of 2007 that of 1957. Kromminga’s challenge to make contact with churches outside of the CRC has been successful; it is doubtful that we have retained the theological distinctiveness he charged us to keep. We have had dialogue with the Roman Catholic Church about Lord’s Day 80; we participate in WARC, but NAPARC cancelled our affiliation. Preaching from the Heidelberg Catechism is not what it’s supposed to be. The psalms we sing today are the so-called seven-eleven choruses: snatches of praise phrases sung multiple times. Psalms to “regular” hymn tunes, never mind those in the Genevan tradition, do not characterize CRC congregational singing in the 21st century. We also have a sizable bureaucracy in Grand Rapids which, for better or worse, tries to steer the denomination from one vantage point; classical renewal began without synodical approval but with agency support; and local church councils are more deeply rooted in entrepreneurial management styles and views of the church than the confessions and traditional Reformed church polity envisions. The CRC is also more diversified, beyond the Dutch provinces. On a given Sunday services are conducted in English, Korean, Spanish, Chinese, Hmong, Laotian, and Vietnamese. Few church leaders, however, can speak more than one language. Our orthodoxy is shifting. In 2007 you will more likely get into trouble for political incorrectness than confessional heterodoxy. South of the border we are American, east-coast or west-coast American, West-Michigan or Iowa-American; those who call us Dutch don’t know us at all. We’re not what we were even fifty years ago. Nor are we agreed about which changes are for the better and which are not.

So, maybe a name change is needed. After all since 1880 we’ve had the same name, and many CRC congregations no longer use the denominational name. Apparently the Board of Trustees is also considering a new name (Has Synod asked them to do so?) Why not give ourselves a new name to reflect our post-modern identity in our 150th year? Sam Hamstra suggests we become the ACRC (Association of Christian Reformed Churches, in his “Modest Proposal,” [The Banner, March 2007.]), a proposal that shows how far conformity to the American religious scene–a danger Van Hoogen in 1907 and Kromminga in 1957 warned us against–has taken us. This move is on display in the ecclesiastical syntax. Let me explain.

The pronoun “our” appears 13 times in the 1907 anniversary speech titles: our church, our people, our mission, our publications, our dangers, our calling. “We” had an identity. The future was about us and our ideals. A deep sense of the youthful vigor of “our” community was encourages, then evaluated and judged. Kromminga’s 1957 appraisal is definite: the heritage, the isolation, the dangers of conformity. He reflects an intimate knowledge of a community striving to keep its identity while moving beyond its isolation.

Van Hoogen gave us “our” CRC; Kromminga “the” CRC; Hamstra gives us A-CRC. In 150 years we’ve moved from “our” self-understanding, to a challenge to break our isolation without undermining our theological distinctiveness, to an indefinite sense of our ecclesiastical identity and an openness to change that will not endure the friction, as Kromminga called it, of being true to our theological confession.

Synod’s first local option, in 1864, gave churches the right not to use the word “true” as part of the church’s name; Hamstra’s local option argues for the right of local churches to separate themselves from our church political identity. No more “our” CRC, no more “the” CRC; only an association of local churches doing their own thing. Happy 150th birthday

What They're Saying

2007-05-05T09:12:00.000-07:00

A Christian University

“Today there is an intense interest, almost an obsession some would say, in diversity and pluralism. Within the worlds of higher education, a Christian university serves the great good of diversity and pluralism by being a different kind of university. It does not mimic the false pluralism and diversity that pretends our deepest differences make no difference. Rather, it engages within the bond of civility the differences that make the deepest difference.

“Today the Christian university is in crisis. At least in many institutions, there is a dying of the light. The crisis is often described as a crisis of secularization. But that, I would suggest , is not quite right. The secular, the saeculum, is the world of God’s creation and redeeming love. The crisis of the Christian university is more accurately described as a crisis created by the ambition to imitate other kinds of universities that false claim to be universities pure and simple. It is a crisis created by competing to belong to the second tier, or even the third tier, of schools that do not aspire to be Christian universities. It is a crisis created by envying excellence divorced from truth. Enough can never be said in favor of excellence, but it is small comfort for a Christian university to be recognized as being moderately good at being what it did not set out to be in the first place.

“The crisis is most accurately described, I believe, as a crisis of faith. The question that those who lead a Christian university must answer, and answer again every day, is whether the Christian proposal limits or illumines the university’s calling to seek and to serve veritas–to seek and to serve the truth.”

Richard John Neuhaus, “A University of a Particular Kind,” First Things (April 2007), 34-35.

What They're Saying

2007-04-13T06:04:00.000-07:00

Bible Knowledge Exams

“Nonetheless, Americans remain profoundly ignorant about their own religions and those of others. According to recent polls, most American adults cannot name even one of the four Gospels, and many high-school seniors think that Sodom and Gomorrah were husband and wife. A few years ago, no one in Jay Leno's The Tonight Show audience could name any of the Twelve Apostles, but everyone was able to shout out the four Beatles.

“One might imagine that religious illiteracy is nothing more than a religious problem — a challenge for ministers, priests, rabbis, and imams. But in the United States today, presidents quote from the Bible during their inauguration speeches, members of Congress cite the "Good Samaritan" story in debates over immigration legislation, and politicians of all stripes invoke the Book of Genesis in debates over the environment. So religious ignorance is a civic problem, too.

“In an era when the public square is, rightly or wrongly, awash in religious rhetoric, can one really participate fully in public life without knowing something about Christianity and the world's other major religions? Is it possible to decide whether intelligent design is "religious" or "scientific" without some knowledge of religion as well as science? Is it possible to determine whether the effort to yoke Christianity and "family values" makes sense without knowing what sort of "family man" Jesus was? Is it possible to adjudicate between President Bush's description of Islam as a religion of peace and the conviction of many televangelists that Islam is a religion of war, without some basic information about Muhammad and the Quran?

“Unfortunately, U.S. citizens today lack this basic religious literacy. As a result, many Americans are too easily swayed by demagogues. Few of us are able to challenge claims made by politicians or pundits about Islam's place in the war on terrorism, or about what the Bible says concerning homosexuality. This ignorance imperils our public life, putting citizens in the thrall of talking heads and effectively transferring power from the Third Estate (the people) to the Fourth (the press).”

The foregoing is excerpted from Stephen Prothero, “Worshiping in Ignorance,” The Chronicle Review. The entire article is available on http://chronicle.com/free/v53/i28/28b00601.htm

What it means to be the Church of Jesus Christ

2007-04-02T07:20:00.000-07:00

Reflections on an im“modest proposal”
Lobbying for the congregational way

Arie C. Leder

Almost twenty years ago Henry De Moor lamented the growth of ecclesiastical individualism in the CRC (“The CRC on the ‘Congregational Way’?” (Calvin Theological Journal 23.1 [1988]: 54-60). Within the CRC such individualism means that a local church’s council considers itself not only as having original authority but also such original authority that the broader assemblies, classis and synod, may under no circumstances violate the integrity of that council. Thus, a classis has no authority to depose a council, nor would a synod have the authority to depose a classis or a council.

De Moor cites the Maranatha Case (1918), the Common Grace Controversy (1924), and the more recent Goderich Case (1980s) to the contrary. Nevertheless, he argues, local autonomy still “finds a greater hearing among us than does well-established synodical precedent.” He continues:

“An increasing number of church councils . . . no longer feel the need to seek the Spirit’s guidance in the broader assemblies of Christ’s church. One consistory decides to install women elders in defiance of the present denominational covenant, . . . ; another decides to withhold certain quotas as an expression of locally held views that are firmly set in concrete; yet another publishes a hymnal for local congregational use because the denominational liturgical literature is ‘too confining’.” (56-57)

Something old something new

Almost twenty years later, Sam Hamstra’s “A Modest Proposal” (The Banner, March 2007, 18-20) suggests that “the congregational way” may be healthier than ever before in the history of the CRC. Essentially practical and a-theological (for an "A"CRC), Hamstra represents the entrepreneurial, voluntarist ecclesiology that has increasingly characterized conversation about the nature and task of the CRC. Hardly the clear but flawed theological position of Nelson Kloosterman and Lester De Koster, advocates of the local autonomy De Moor cites.

Within twenty years, then, the discussion has moved from reflecting theologically on the nature of the local church as representing the mystical body of Christ, to arguing for a more effective local church on practical grounds: the denominational approach is not working, let’s try the post-modern non-denominational approach; no reflection on the denomination as ecumenism in its simplest form. As in business, so in the church: if one model doesn’t work, let’s try another. Of this approach to decision-making De Moor writes:

“It is not in prayerful gatherings of office-bearers who take each other seriously as agents of Christ’s leading but in the privacy of home or office that arguments and lobbying tactics are conceived. An atmosphere of battle is created and the struggle is carried out in the printed page and in unofficial assemblies that smack of party gatherings. Inevitably, in such an environment, it is almost impossible to keep classical and synodical meetings from descending to Congress-like politics. As in that arena, where special interest groups labor mightily to pressure a majority in the assemblies to opt for ‘our side’ or even to work out some compromise, no matter how distasteful, so in the church—this rather than a collegial searching for the leading of God. In our secular society, even church government is losing its ‘vertical dimension.’” (57)

Do ut des-des ut do

The latter part of the 20th century saw lobbying of the right and left become, almost, normal church business in the CRC. The price: a loss of tens of thousands in membership, a diminished ownership of our historic confessional identity, and a steady drift towards evangelical entrepreneurialism.

As De Moor describes it, then it was the “Committee of the Concerned” versus the “Establishment.” Soon it would be the Committee for Women in the Christian Reformed Church who sat in synodical delegates’ chairs during coffee breaks or appeared en masse, dressed in white, when Synod discussed women in office. Then, an agency which, without synodical approval, began classical renewal programs, political correctness that opened the door to ministry for uncalled and unqualified and anchored the ill-fated Crossroads anti-racism program, the office of Social Justice (although an official agency, it lobbies for social justice positions not approved by Synod, such as the solution to Third World debt, but fails to help congregations to work out our common decisions on abortion, for example), and, more recently, Hearts Aflame, a group lobbying against Synod 2006's decision on women delegates at the broader assemblies. The pressure tactics of the right De Moor decries in his 1988 article have become those of the another “wing” of the CRC.

Whether anchored in a theology of the supreme authority of the local church, the politics of lobbying, or well-meant political correctnesses, these pressure tactics are foreign to the Reformed church polity as understood in the CRC. They balkanize the CRC into interest groups difficult to reconcile with the theological minds of the CRC defined by Henry Stob (the theologically safe, the militant, the positive), Henry Zwaanstra (Confessional Reformed, Separatist Calvinist, American Calvinists), James Bratt (the positive neo-Calvinists, the Confessionalist-seceder, and the defensive and introverted neo-Calvinist). They do express, however, an Americanization of the CRC, but not one envisioned by the American Calvinists Zwaanstra discusses. Lobbying is the American thing to do.

Moreover, pressure tactics do not fit a keen understanding of the church as a community held together by an agreed upon covenant on the church polity level, nor on the ecclesiological level: the church as a community not created by our covenanting with one another, but created by a covenant solemnly sworn by the shed blood of Jesus Christ. We don’t keep covenant because it’s good for us, or because it endorses a particular understanding of an issue, but because it is an essential part of our nature. Nor do we violate a covenant because the church does not satisfy what an individual, a local church, or an interest group believes ought to be true but is not, or not yet, agreed upon by the church. Temper tantrums are not approved ecclesiastical procedure.

Looking at our own heritage of differences

Edwin Chr. Van Driel, reflecting on the disputes and attempts at unity in the Episcopalian Church USA (ECUSA) writes (“God’s Covenant. What it means to be Church,” Christian Century, January 9, 2007, 8-9):

“It is God’s covenant that forms the basis of the church. Yes, those of us within the church will at some point find ourselves in disagreement. But our disagreements do not give us the right to suggest that one of us should leave the covenant–because it is God’s covenant, not ours. Nor do our disagreements give me the right to suggest that you should move to a table ‘further down’–because it is not my table you are invited to, but God’s table.”

“I’m not suggesting that the current disputes and differences in the churches are not serious, or that they do not reflect real and important theological differences. Still we are not invited to the covenant or the table on the basis of our theology; we were invited to the covenant long before we even had a theology. We are invited to the covenant because of grace.”

To make the point Van Driel rehearses the history of his own church, the former Nederlandse Hervormde Kerk (NHK; he calls it NRC), now the Protestant Church of the Netherlands (PKN), the church which the ancestors of the CRC left in 1834. He writes:

“Some will say that this approach to church and covenant sacrifices truth for unity. I would suggest that we take a lesson from the history of the Netherlands Reformed Church. In the 19th century, some of its ministers denied the resurrection or the divinity of Christ; another minister famously claimed to be a follower of Buddha. The leadership of the church refused to uphold the church’s confessional standards. As a result, the majority of the church seemed to have lost its theological identity.

“In this situation the orthodox minority found itself divided into two camps on how to respond. One camp thought the church’s theological character should be restored by its members appealing to the church’s courts and synod. If this did not help, the members would leave the church. This became known as the juridical way. For several decades the juridical camp made its appeals, and when these were unsuccessful, members of the dissenting group left and formed the Reformed Churches in the Netherlands (RCN). Meanwhile, the other minority group in the NRC followed the medical way: its members believed that as long as one is not prevented from preaching the gospel, one should never leave the church. They believed that the medicine of the gospel itself can heal a sick church, and although they were weakened by the loss of orthodox allies, members of this group continued to focus on preaching the gospel.

“The result seemed predictable. The RCN would become a conservative bulwark, its identity firmly protected by its juridical structure. The NRC would grow more and more liberal, with a slim and powerless conservative minority. But things turned out differently. One hundred years later the RCN found itself at the far left of the theological spectrum, and its international daughter churches, including the Christian Reformed Church in the U.S.A., declared themselves in impaired communion with their mother church. Meanwhile, in the 1930s and 1940s a spirit of renewal began to stir in the NRC. Liberals, middle-of-the-roaders and conservatives became discontented with the perceived theological wishy-washiness of the church.

“None of these groups gave up its particular approach to the gospel, but all realized that a church which does not firmly confesses its obedience to the gospel of Christ is null and void. In 1950 an overwhelming majority in the synod accepted a new, Christ-centered church order and restored the church’s ties to its confessional documents. The preaching of the gospel–and only the preaching–had healed the church.

“If this is what it means to be church, being church will never be easy. We find ourselves joined together with people we disagree with, people we do not necessarily like. But that is exactly what God’s covenant is all about: God reaches out to people who are not likable–people who are sinners. It is only because God graciously embraces these imperfect human beings that any of us have a chance to be included in God’s covenant.

“If this is what it means to be church, then being church is also profoundly countercultural. One reason why the Episcopalian left and right so easily embrace Archbishop Williams’s ideas may be that those ideas perfectly match the American emphasis on freedom and choice. If there is any place for the church to be countercultural, however, it is in situations in which we are called to remember our original covenant.

“‘You did not choose me but I chose you’ (John 15:16). As a church we are called, formed, judged and renewed not by our own choices, but only by God.” (8-9)

Now what?

In its solemn gatherings for worship and through all its assemblies, the CRC is an expression of the mystical body of Christ, who unites us to himself by the covenant he made in his blood. He made us before we made the CRC. That is our historic confession, warts and all. But none of those warts is the "congregational way," in any of its older or contemporary forms. Let’s keep the covenant into which Christ called us. Let’s keep the church polity covenant we believe best reflects that calling of our Lord.

Feminism and the Mary-Martha Story of Luke

2007-03-30T07:06:00.000-07:00

"Martha, Martha...you are overanxious..."
by John Bolt

The Mary and Martha story (Luke 10:38- 42) has new traction these days as a proof-text for feminist educational activism—"out of the kitchen and into the academy"—but this is not how the tradition has understood it. On the contrary, the key point is not so much that Mary, the woman, has a mind and should be doing more than making soup and buns, but to call attention to the respective objects of their devotion. Martha is busy doing good things; Mary is attentive to Jesus and that is more important.

Rereading the anonymous fourteenth-century English spiritual classic, The Cloud of Unknowing, recently, I was led from the author’s own use of the Mary/Martha story (§§ 18–22) to self-examination and reflection on our contemporary church life. Specifically, are we too busy with this world? Are we so caught up in our programs, our campaigns to end poverty, eliminate racism, cool down our warming globe, stop all war etc., that we have forgotten what is truly important? And, then, if this is indeed the case, do we not have a clear indicator why we are so anxious, why we get involved in more and more "fix-it" projects?

I am often struck by the way in which the Bible writers juxtapose their stories as a way of pulling us back from possibly mistaken applications. Is it not interesting that the story which is often used to propel us toward good works and activism for social change, namely the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) is immediately followed by the Mary/Martha story and then, in the next chapter, with our Lord’s teaching on prayer (Luke 11: 1-13)? Note also that Jesus teaching on prayer concludes with a reference to the one most important thing to pray for—the Holy Spirit (vs. 13).

So, are we becoming a Martha church, very busy doing all sorts of good things but losing our first love? Even worse, are we justifying all this busyness in the name of "seeking first the kingdom"? I said earlier that the Mary/Martha story brought me to self-examination. My call in this short little piece of reflection is that we all do the same. Herman Bavinck, reflecting on the furious neo-Calvinist activism of his own day wondered about "losing ourselves in the world. Nowadays we are out to convert the whole world, to conquer all areas of life for Christ. But we often neglect . . . [the fundamental question] . . . do we belong to Christ in life and in death. For this is indeed what life boils down to. What does it profit a man if he gain the whole world, even for Christian principles, if he loses his own soul." (The Certainty of Faith [Paideia, 1980], 94). Indeed!

Third Wave Pentecostalism in the CRC

2007-03-30T06:54:00.000-07:00

Third Wave Pentecostalism: CRC Synodical Study Report
Below an overture sent to Classis Muskegon by the First CRC of Muskegon, Michigan. Rev. Michael Borgert is the minister. The overture was rejected. It is printed here with permission.

Overture to Classis Muskegon on Third Wave Pentecostalism
March 1, 2007

I. Introduction

In response to an overture from the Council of Plymouth Heights CRC of Grand Rapids, Michigan Synod 2004 appointed a study committee whose stated task was, “To examine the biblical teaching, Reformed confessions, theological implications, and pastoral dimensions related to ‘third wave’ Pentecostalism (spiritual warfare, deliverance ministries, and so forth), with a view to providing advice to the churches.”1 The study committee was due to report to Synod 2006, but due to the untimely death of Dr. David Engelhard, the former General Secretary of the Christian Reformed Church and chair of the Committee to Study Third Wave Pentecostalism, the report was not available in time for Synod 2006. Because of significant disagreements over the content of the report, the members of the study committee after several meetings amicably separated into two groups representing a majority and minority, both of which have produced their own report and submitted these reports to Synod 2007. These study committee reports have been distributed to the churches for their review in preparation for Synod 2007. The Synod of the Christian Reformed Church approved an earlier related report in 1973 evaluating the neo-Pentecostal or charismatic movement of the 1960’s and 70’s (see Acts of Synod 1973, Report 34).

II. Background

While we appreciate and respect the effort and care that are evident in the Majority Report on Third Wave Pentecostalism that has been submitted to the churches for their review, the Council of First CRC, Muskegon must register numerous concerns it has regarding the content and potential implications of the report.

First, there is in the majority report very little evidence of interaction with and evaluation of appropriate biblical texts bearing directly on the issue(s) at hand (Romans 12, I Cor. 12, Eph. 4, I Peter 4 – which list numerous spiritual gifts/charismata; and various passages in Acts and the Gospels where miraculous healings, being filled with the Holy Spirit subsequent to one’s baptism, casting out of evil spirits/demons by Jesus and his apostles are recorded).

Second, the majority report evidences even less interaction with the Reformed Confessions with only one reference at the end of the report to the Canons of Dort, Art. 12 of the Third and Fourth Main Points of Doctrine. If for no other reasons than these two, the majority report should be rejected. The stated purpose of the study committee was, “To examine the biblical teaching, Reformed confessions, theological implications, and pastoral dimensions related to ‘third wave’ Pentecostalism (spiritual warfare, deliverance ministries, and so forth), with a view to providing advice to the churches.” The majority report is clearly deficient with respect to its assigned purpose and has failed to fulfill its appointed task. There are numerous helpful and thoughtful writers in the Reformed tradition on the topic of Christian spirituality including but not limited to John Calvin, John Owen, Jonathan Edwards, Abraham Kuyper; and closer to our own time, John Stott, J.I. Packer, Philip Yancey and Eugene Peterson.

Third, the majority report appears to be almost entirely descriptive rather than prescriptive. There is so little interaction with and evaluation of the Third Wave movement in the light of Scripture and the Reformed Confessions with respect to the practices and theological assumptions under discussion, the majority report seems to simply acquiesce to what is already happening in some quarters of the church rather than offer a helpful critique of it.

Fourth, the majority report fails to engage the questionable assumptions of the Third Wave movement. Prominent among those assumptions is that the “signs and wonders” associated with the Third Wave movement are visible marks of the true church. The Reformed tradition has since the time of Calvin affirmed that the preaching of the Word, the administration of the Sacraments and the exercise of church discipline were the marks by which the true church could be identified and separated from a corrupt impostor. The assumption that the Holy Spirit allowed these supposedly indispensable gifts to lie dormant and remain largely unused in the experience of the church for hundreds of years except for isolated incidents and occasional outpourings of extraordinary power strains the limits of credulity.

The books of Acts, which records approximately 30 years of the early church’s history from the Ascension of Jesus Christ into Heaven to the time of Paul’s arrival in Rome does record numerous miraculous events (healings, exorcisms, glossolalia, etc.). But even here in the experience of the apostles themselves these miraculous events were recognized as significant enough that Luke saw fit to record them. We are left to assume that these were not everyday occurrences. In contrast, the Third Wave movement does assume that such miraculous events will be commonplace in the experience of the church and in the lives of individual Christians that are filled by the Holy Spirit. This is at best a troubling assumption, and at worst a opening for a neo-Gnosticism to enter into the life of the church creating division, in direct contrast to Scripture’s stated purpose for the giving of these gifts which was to unite the church.

The majority report allows many other underlying assumptions of the Third Wave movement to go unchallenged and in addition makes many of its own assumptions that are equally questionable and seem to be the result of misguided emotion and incoherent thinking rather than sustained, prayerful theological reflection. At one point, the report states, “The astonishing rise of cults, Eastern religions, paganism, Wicca, Kabbala, and others in the last couple of decades attests to a longing to experience the spiritual world. Strikingly, however, while interest in spirituality is on the rise, Christianity as an organized religion is in decline, likely because many denominations practice a functional deism that leaves spiritual seekers to turn elsewhere for an encounter with the divine.”

There are numerous problems with this quotation. First, it is factually inaccurate. Even a superficial examination of church membership statistics will demonstrate that far from declining, the evangelical church is the United States posts modest gains each year and has for the last couple of years also done so in Canada following many years of decline. Second, the charge of deism, functional or otherwise, against a fellow Christian is a serious accusation, one that the report does not substantiate. Third, to assume that the practices advocated by the Third Wave movement are a Christian solution to the “longing to experience the spiritual world” or the “interest in spirituality” is disconcerting. This assumption is even more worrisome when in the minority report one reads of numerous Christian leaders from churches in the developing world who say that many of the practices of the Third Wave and other Pentecostal/charismatic movements have more in common with pagan/animistic rituals that they do with anything that could recognizably be called Christian. We should present those who long for spiritual experiences and who express interest in spirituality with a robust Reformed theology and practice of Christian spirituality rather than to baptize questionable practices with a veneer of Christianity and recommend them to spiritually hungry people as a viable alternative to their yearning.

III. Overture
Because of these concerns, First CRC of Muskegon overtures Classis Muskegon to:

1. Overture Synod 2007 to reject the Majority Report of the Committee to Study Third Wave Pentecostalism.
Grounds:

The majority report is seriously deficient because of its lack of vigorous interaction with Scriptural and the Reformed Confessions.
The majority report does not adequately examine the theological implications and the pastoral dimensions of Third Wave movement practices nor does it suggest helpful advice to the churches.
The majority report opens the door to assumptions that are theologically suspect and to practices that are not edifying to the churches and have the potential to undermine a Reformed hermeneutic of Scripture and Reformed ecclesiology.
The majority report fails in its stated objective, “To examine the biblical teaching, Reformed confessions, theological implications, and pastoral dimensions related to ‘third wave’ Pentecostalism (spiritual warfare, deliverance ministries, and so forth), with a view to providing advice to the churches.”

2. Overture Synod 2007 to accept the Minority Report of the Committee to Study Third Wave Pentecostalism.
Grounds:

The minority report identifies and critiques a number of troubling assumptions and practices of the Third Wave movement.
The minority clearly engages in an exhaustive study of relevant biblical passages with respect to the stated purpose of the study committee making it clearly superior to the majority report.
The minority report is well-grounded in the Reformed Confessions and theology.
The minority report’s recommendations to reject certain aspects are clearly in keeping with the cautions and warnings of the earlier Report 34 of 1973 dealing with neo-Pentecostalism.

3. Overture Synod to further instruct the authors of the minority report to, in addition to their wise critique of certain beliefs and practices of the Third Wave movement, present a positive statement of Reformed Christian spirituality.

Grounds:

There is a genuine yearning for spirituality in the world more generally and in our churches.
This yearning can be positively understood as a manifestation of the sensus divinitatus and should be acknowledged as such and properly directed toward the true end of Christian spirituality – union with Christ.
To put forth such a positive statement of Reformed Christian spirituality presents a viable alternative to the spiritual yearning individuals express and feel, but does so in a way that is in agreement with and under the authority of Scripture and the Reformed Confessions.
Such a statement of Reformed Christian spirituality will serve to strengthen rather than undermine foundational Biblical, theological, and ecclesiastical elements of the Christian Reformed Church’s identity.

An Open Letter from the pastor

2007-02-23T09:10:00.000-08:00

An Open Letter to the Men of 1st Byron Christian Reformed Church

Dear men in the Lord at 1st Byron,

In a few months, our Council will gather to nominate men as elders and deacons. As I just wrote, that’s still a few months out, but I wanted to get you thinking about serving in office before letters for nomination go out and the pressure to respond is there.

Over the last three or four years, getting men to serve in the offices has not been easy. It seems that there have been as many men who turn down the nomination to serve as accept it. Serving in office now seems to be the “low man on the totem pole.” It’s now just one choice among many that men have to make. Serving as an office bearer is on a par with coaching soccer, serving on a civic board or committee, or being a member of a golf league. When a choice has to be made, being an elder or deacon is not the prime choice. Serving in office also seems to be increasingly the victim of a retirement mentality. More and more men are choosing to retire from being an office bearer at the same time they retire from their employment. I realize these are not the reasons everyone has for not being able to serve. Not everyone is called to serve and not everyone is qualified to serve. It just seems to me that more and more often men who are able are not willing.

The apostle Paul said in 1 Timothy 3:1 that if anyone set his heart on being an overseer, he desires a noble task. Perhaps something similar could be said for being a deacon. Do any of you have your heart set on serving in office? Let me share three reasons why that would be worthwhile:

For the sake of Jesus
In 1 Peter 5:2,3 Peter writes, “Be shepherds of God’s flock that is under your care…not because you must, but because you are willing as God wants you to be; not greedy for money, but eager to serve…” Peter’s challenge is for men to serve eagerly and willingly—to serve not as a duty but a delight. Where does that attitude come from? By remembering that there is a chief shepherd (1 Peter 5:4). That shepherd is Jesus. As the chief shepherd of the church, he not only tends us, but he laid down his life for us. (John 10:11).

For the sake of the Church
Consider how beautifully and richly the Bible describes the church. It is called the bride of Christ (Eph. 5), the pillar and foundation of the truth (1 Tim. 3:15), the body of Christ (Eph 1:23), and a chosen people, a royal priesthood, and a holy nation (1 Peter 2:9). Jesus loves the church, has given his life for it, and has given it the task of guarding and promoting the truth of the gospel. It could be said that the church is the hope of the world as it proclaims the good news of Christ. This body that is precious to Jesus needs leaders. It needs men who will protect the truth. It needs men who can help the church promote the truth for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

For your own sake
There is great reward in serving in office. 1 Timothy 3:13 says of deacons, “Those who serve will gain an excellent standing and great assurance in their faith in Christ Jesus.” To elders Peter writes, “And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away.”

Please prayerfully, seriously, and honestly consider whether God is calling you to serve if you’re nominated. Be a leader in the church of Jesus!

Your brother in Christ,

The State of the Church

2007-02-03T09:35:00.000-08:00

The State of the Church
by Arie C. Leder

We’ve come a long way since 1857. One hundred and fifty years of faithful worship, theological debate, and change. The Three Forms of Unity are still on our masthead; but we’ve added a Contemporary Testimony. Our hymnal provides psalms for congregational singing; but the Genevan tunes and their whole notes seldom inform our praise and lament. Many of our churches now also use the “green” hymnal. By the way, was it ever approved for singing by Synod? The church continues to shape our denominational covenant; but it is now accompanied by thick volumes of the policy manuals that govern a flock of agencies.

From one century to another
And, of course, we’ve entered a third century. The 1800's were a time of settling. By the time the 1900's were firmly entrenched we were debating our identity and slowly, but surely, becoming a more North American denomination. Dutch disappeared, but we practiced our confessional identity in English, and slowly in Navajo, Spanish, even Hmong. Classes Red Mesa and Pacific Hanmi were organized in 1982 and 1996.We also became leaner as groups left: the Bultema group, the Protestant Reformed, the Christian Reformation Church, those who now call themselves Orthodox Christian Reformed, United Reformed, or who remain independently Reformed (surely an oxymoron). Our confessional identity, still on the books, slowly became less obviously important to individual members, churches, and agencies. By the year 2000 we were barely 300,000, never mind 400,000.

At the beginning of our third century, the debate about women in office continues–about classical and synodical representation–and the corporate nature, size, and growth of the CRC feeds concerns. The denominational Board of Trustees makes more decisions than ever before. Theological debates are emerging that promise more change: dedication or infant baptism, or both; children at the Lord’s Supper; the “emerging churches” and their generous orthodoxy. Some among the “Returning Churches” in southwest Michigan want to make an argument for organizing classes–up to now organized and joined on a geographical basis–on theological grounds. The Contemporary Testimony is being revised. The latest Banner has an article on being Black and Reformed.

The 2007 CRC Yearbook informs us that in this 150th year we have 269,856 members, a net growth of 4,387. We received 4447 members from other denominations; infant baptisms occurred 3683 times. We keep no records for infant dedications. Through evangelism 3287 became members; 4275 professing and non-professing members left the CRCNA. Where did these go? Roman Catholic, Orthodox, Presbyterian, United Reformed, evangelical mega-church? Who attracts? What attracts? We’ve 93 years left to impress the 21st century. Or not.

Kinder, gentler, more generous?
Classis Alberta North will soon be discussing an overture that may go to Synod: “to study how churches can pastorally respond to those Christians among them who cannot in good conscience subscribe to infant baptism, and who seek recourse in infant dedication, since many of these believing parents wish to dedicate themselves to Christian parenting, and seek God’s blessings on their children in the context of the covenant community.” Spurred on by the consistory of the Neerlandia CRC, this overture, if it makes it to Synod will give the church as a whole the opportunity to reflect on the impact of “generous orthodoxy,” characteristic of the emergent church movement, rather than, by neglect, letting individual churches go their own way outside of the denominational covenant. That discussion may help us determine if we are still a denomination or a community of Congregationalist churches with certain Reformed proclivities, here and there. And then possibly more culturally than confessionally Reformed.

Speaking of confessions: The Revision of the Contemporary Testimony is well on its way. The proposed revision is available on crcna.org. The revising committee, not really representative of the various minds in the CRC, has asked for responses. Many have, individually and corporately.

The Contemporary Testimony represents the CRCNA’s commitment to state its faith in relevant ways. The proposed revision is a kinder, gentler, version of what was already a softer, and quite “green,” version of our confessional commitment. A few comments. The proposed revision tends to diminish the royal imagery so distinct in Scripture. It doesn’t remove them completely, but opposition to this dominant metaphor of Scripture is clear. Notions of rebellion against the King, are softened, and phrases that have God bending our wills to his (article 13) are weakened. The new article 52 is an almost exhaustive list of social, even political, responsibilities. Well, you take a look at the proposed revision. What do you think of it? And add your comments below.

Oh, one more thing. The report on the Third Wave is also on crcna.org. It contains a minority and majority report.

What do you think of state of the CRC?

Listening in Silence

2007-01-03T10:13:00.000-08:00

by Arie C. Leder

“Remember when ministers used to begin the service with ‘The Lord is in his holy temple, let all the earth be silent before him.’? I’m glad we no longer hear that. Silence?!? We have noisy, happy-clappy worship. Doomy-gloomy worship is so, like, yesterday.”

Just before the sermon we were treated to a series of video clips: traffic congestion, busy highways, planes taking off, arguments. Noise after noise after noise. The hustle and bustle of modern life. Then, clips of rustic scenes, quiet waters, hills and vales, birds chirping. Noise and silence. Contemporary life and nature not shaped by human culture. The juxtaposition of clips laid the foundation for the message: we need silence.

The bitter silence of a friend after that argument; the wasting silence of your daughter’s coma; the unending silence after your spouse’s death. Devastating! No voice. Not even a disappointed or angry voice. Without another voice we dissolve into ourselves. Words spoken to and around us, pull us out of our natural self-absorption. All the more when we hear heaven speak.

That’s what it was about when that minister proclaimed Habakkuk 2:20 at the beginning of the worship service: let all the earth be silent to listen to the one authentic Voice among the many voices that clamor for our attention.

Silence matters. Even more so the voice you listen to in that silence.

Silence is good, again
Recent emphasis on spirituality has made silence a good thing, again. Diana Butler Bass’ “Silent Treatment. Contemplative Worship” (Christian Century, September 19, 2006) and Phil Reinders’ “Eight Days of Silence” (The Banner, November 2006) describe how spiritual traditions (Benedictine, Ignatian, the mysticism of Eckhart, St. John the Evangelist, Quaker) can enhance the corporate worship and personal spirituality of Reformation tradition believers.

Both authors point to a silence that is filled with prayer, Scripture reading and reflection. It is a not speaking that is open to the voice of God. Butler Bass describes two churches, an Episcopalian and a Presbyterian. About the latter she writes: “At Sunday services, . . . the focus is on prayer, the reading of the word and preaching. Silence serves as a spiritual white space between the words, allowing each person to hear the word within.” (29)

That is, of course, the issue, the word you hear in the spaces. What shapes that hearing? The words on either side of the white space? Or, what? It is difficult enough to listen and hear the words that have been read, never mind the spaces in between.

The art of listening to the Voice of God
One of the basic tools of pastoral care is listening, listening to others. Not merely hearing a voice, but listening for the problem, the joy, the grief that the voice seeks to express. Such listening is a skill that needs to be learned. And the necessary knowledge of self. Without such self-knowledge and the listening skills pastors easily transfer their own problems onto the person needing ministry. They fill the silence, so to speak, with their own problems, the noise of their own souls, and do not hear the voice of grief, disappointment in the faith, or anger at a sudden death.

Reinders’ description of his eight day retreat points to this problem: the bad thoughts about a fellow retreater. “Reminds me of the frightful part of silence, how it quickly reveals an ugly, judgmental underbelly in me. I’m thinking these unholy things about the lady pacing upstairs, and there’s another guy who I already don’t like. Why? We’re not saying anything, so what could we have done? What’s wrong is not him but me. This is a directed retreat . . . ” (19)

Total silence is not good. It’s frightening and devastating. Thus spiritual directors are crucial for a successful retreat and edifying worship. It’s not merely a matter of filling in the blanks any way you want. Without guidance silence becomes fertile ground for spiritual narcissism.

And, of course, it’s not merely a matter of leaving the noisy contemporary world behind; you always take it with you, even as Phil Reinders took his MP3 along to listen to Alison Krauss. The monks in the desert knew that, and their world was hardly as noisy as ours. It’s about your heart and mine. The noise that fills it for no good. That’s why people in worship and on retreat always take Scripture. Its words can fill the heart for good. Never mind the white spaces in between.

Let leaders of worship read the words of Scripture and lead the prayers with great care, so that we who gather in silence before the Great King may hear his Voice clearly.

Funerals, a family or church affair?

2007-01-03T10:10:00.000-08:00

Funerals, a family or church affair?
by Arie C. Leder

Andrew Kuyvenhoven once urged Calvin Seminary students to preach at least once a year about money and once about sex. Noone likes to hear about these matters, he owned, but they should. That was good advice then; it is imperative today. Ubiquitous computer hardware and software provide heretofore impossible to imagine opportunities for addictions to “whatever.” Bizarre economic and sexual behaviors have metastasized geometrically, contaminating the lives of millions, including that of Christians and their leaders.

I propose a third theme for yearly homiletical attention: death, dying, and funerals. And for one simple reason: few want to hear about death in our culture and in the churches. Don’t we have a right to happy thoughts?

The elephant in the room
Read through the obituaries in your local newspapers and see how many times those gathering around the remains of a beloved departed are enjoined to celebrate life. This language is increasingly used in churches, read your bulletins. More and more we are invited to attend a celebration of life, rather than a funeral. Seldom are those beyond the immediate family invited to attend the burial. Sometimes burials take place before the communal gathering for a celebration of life.

This refusal of death struck me hard late last year. A well-known CRC church leader suffering an irremediable brain cancer died. His almost year-long suffering had been a powerful testimony of his faith and trust in the Lord to all who met him. Then death, as expected, swallowed him and he was no more, not with his family nor with us. He had departed the land of the living; he had met, as Scripture teaches, the last enemy: death and corruption of the body.

The gathering of family and friends was structured as a celebration of life. Death as an enemy was shoved aside, being mentioned only in a short speech by a former colleague. It was almost festive. Strangest of all, the beloved departed himself participated. The service of celebration began with a taped recital from the creeds of the church, there was a bit of a buzz, it took a while for the gathered to identify the voice of one who, though dead, spoke. Life was the theme; not death, not even victory over death. Death was ignored even though it had done its worst.

A question of fittingness
I had interrupted a trip to a much anticipated continuing education event, because an elderly man had little time to live. The family had been called. And they had contacted me. I rushed to the hospital and upon entering the visiting area met his daughter and son-in-law. “Is he dead yet?” I asked. They froze. Then I froze. It took a while to restore relationships with the couple; and they were close acquaintances. Apologies were accepted, finally.

In a sense it was a good question: it addressed the state of affairs. But it was foolishly worded. I knew it within a nano-second. A stupidly worded question, a reckless word. “Reckless words,” declares the sage, “pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.” (Prov. 12:18). I could have asked, “How is your father?” or even, “Has anything changed?” Better yet would have been, “How are you doing?” I had worded my question inappropriately, it hadn’t taken people into consideration. It was not fitting.

Fittingness is all about the right time and place. Knowing what to say, when to say it, and how. Or what belongs together. Thus the sage says: “Like snow in summer or rain in harvest, honor is not fitting a fool.” (Prov. 26:1) And, “Arrogant lips are unsuited to a fool–how much worse lying lips to a ruler.” (Prov. 17:7). Therefore the sage teaches: “The lips of the righteous know what is fitting, but the mouth of the wicked only what is perverse.” (Prov. 10:32). Let the righteous practice what is fitting every day so that we may also speak fitting words during the dying and at the death and burial of our beloved. Let the rituals in which we embed these activities be suitable, befitting the reality of death.

The funeral as a family affair
The church polity tradition of the CRC has historically defined funerals as family affairs, thereby seeking to distinguish itself from the Roman sacramentalization of dying and death (and marriage, also a family affair according to the church order). Nevertheless, ministers traditionally officiate at funerals and burials, not a representative of the family. Thus these events have assumed a quasi-formal ecclesiastical status and developed certain proper forms over the centuries.

The traditional Christian service of burial helped the family to place its grief in the context of the Gospel, especially the hope of the resurrection. Afterward the gathered accompanied the family to the grave site to observe the rituals of dismissal. Maybe earth was thrown on the casket as it descended into the grave and the familiar “Dust to dust, ashes to ashes” signaled the awful finality of our mortality. The funeral was for those who remained alive, the family, friends, indeed the congregation of Jesus Christ. Afterwards we might gather with the family over the inevitable ham sandwiches and coffee. There might be a program celebrating the life of the beloved departed.

Contemporary “funerals” seem not to need the official ministry at times of death. Indeed, the CRC church order does not require an official service. Sometimes there is no funeral service. It is either a memorial service (no casket, no going to the grave site) or a celebration of the departed’s life. The gathered are given no opportunity to express their grief, no rituals to express their hope, no way to face the awful reality of death in a healthy way. Contemporary “funeral” services avoid death.

If a family wants a memorial service or a celebration, let them do it, without officials from the church to give the official sheen of the gospel. After all, it is a family affair. There are no ecclesiastical or civil laws to prevent them from doing so. It frees all concerned from the constraints of the past. Although possible, this is not recommended. Far better for the church to take back funerals as a proper religious rite of passage.

Funerals: church affairs
This is not about sacramentalizing funerals (or marriage, a similar issue), but of acknowledging the difference between a Christian understanding of burial practices and that of the world. Christian grief takes place in the context of the hope of the resurrection but without skirting the awful power of death. Funeral rites give the gathered faithful the opportunity to process grief, to stare death in the face as those who have been remade in the image of God through Jesus Christ.

Good funeral services proceed from the heart of the Gospel, that Christ died for us, that we die in him; that the curse of death is the consequence of our sin. In sum, a service of Christian burial proceeds from our confession of sin, our acknowledging that we deserve to die, and that the beloved departed has experienced that consequence, and that we will also. A service of Christian burial is that part of Christian pedagogy which prepares us daily for that death when death will swallow us as well.

A service of Christian burial also focuses on the new life, not the past life of the departed, but the hope of the world to come for all the faithful. A service of Christian burial is not for nor about the beloved departed, but for and about the beloved who remain behind, family, friends, the faithful. In the midst of a culture that seeks to affirm this life in fear of what may be, this service is a public Christian testimony about the truth of death and the life to come.

Let the church take back the funeral with the prayers, hymns, and other liturgical elements that help the gathered to experience the truth of the Gospel as expressed by the church throughout the ages when confronted by death and dying. The church preaches that in Christ no one dies alone, and that in Christ noone dies only within a family; no other social organization does this. Only the church has the authority to proclaim that in Christ one dies in the midst of all the saints, beloved of God the Father, Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth. Let it, and not the family, do so with its service of Christian burial.

2006-12-30T07:58:00.001-08:00

What Does Joy Have to do With Doing Dishes?
by John Van Regenmorter

Standing on many kitchen counters is a plastic bottle of dishwashing liquid called Joy®. Isn’t it rather odd to call a dish soap Joy? Is there anything less “joyful” than the job of scrubbing greasy pots and pans? Why would Procter and Gamble call their product Joy?

Isn’t it because the word “joy” has “good vibes”? As J.I Packer states in his book, Hot Tub Religion, “Joy is a word that makes one feel bright, and when washing dishes, one needs bright feelings.”

Packer is right! He also suggests that the word joy has this effect because it connects us to the deepest desire of our heart. We desire joy. We were created for joy. We will never be satisfied unless we have joy!

But what is joy? Contrary to popular belief, joy is not the same as wearing a smile. Joy is something we can possess, even while our tears strike the ground.

Nor is joy the same as “being happy.” Things which make us happy – fun, recreation, a good job, a beautiful home – are all subject to change and loss. Joy is a permanent possession.

According to Packer, joy has four characteristics. First, joy flows from the assurance that we are loved. No one can have joy who does not believe that he or she is valued, accepted, and cared for.

At Bethany, we understand this truth. We know how important it is for all children to know what it means to be loved, and this understanding motivates us to find adoptive and foster homes for children who have not known love. Above all, it is our hope that children and families in this imperfect world of imperfect families will know what it means to be valued and loved by a perfect Heavenly Father.

Second, joy comes from accepting one’s situation in life. People who are always whining about the way things are rob themselves of joy. Joy comes from believing that God ultimately works all things for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28).

Third, joy comes from having something worthwhile to possess. If nothing you have seems very worthwhile, then you will have little joy. Spouses, children, friends, the ability to work and enjoy life, are all possessions that can help us experience joy. But even if we have none of these, we can possess something worth more than all of these put together: an intimate relationship with the God of the universe and the assurance of eternal life through His Son, Jesus Christ.

Fourth, joy comes from giving something worth giving. Our self-absorbed society might not understand that giving is a source of joy, but it is. Is there anyone who has given something worthwhile in Christ’s name who did not experience joy in the giving?

Speaking of giving, was there ever a gift more worth giving than the gift of the Savior? Undoubtedly there was not only joy in the hearts of those who received the gift, but joy in the heart of the Giver as well.

During this Christmas season, may you and those whom you love experience the message of “good news of great joy!”

welcome

2006-12-30T07:47:00.000-08:00

Out with the old, in with the new, website that is. Let me explain. One monring early last November I tried to open crconnect, the with the .org, and discovered it had been taken over by another organization. Up to this point we have not been able to get back on. For the time being we are here.

It is a shame this has happened. We were getting better known all the time. The average download for the last few months was 50,000 KB/month

We will upload an essay by John Van Regenmorter, and the material from November. Afterwards we will continue to write commenting on things of interest and matters CRCNA. If you know others who regularly visited the former site, please let them know.

Arie C. Leder