John Piper recently released a book called A Peculiar Glory, where he explores what it means for Scripture to be self-attesting. In this companion video to the book, Michael Reeves interviews Piper on the book and the topic. In the interview, Piper cites a number of influences including Calvin, Edwards, and the Westminster Catechisms, and Reeves mentions similarity between A Peculiar Glory and some of John Owen’s work. They talk about both the helpfulness and the limits of historical, evidential arguments in light of the self-authenticating nature and authority of Scripture itself; there are points where they both seem to be channeling Van Til without mentioning him (see Van Til’s article on “Nature and Scripture,” for example).

So I commend both the book and the video to you. See for yourself.

The term “grace” can sometimes take on a use that, in a seemingly harmless way, treats it as an object in and of itself; a valuable commodity for walking the Christian life. Some turn its meaning into something that functions like a gift of spiritual gold, motivational pixie dust from which believers siphon for their spiritual nourishment.

In his upcoming book, Newton on the Christian Life: To Live Is Christ, Tony Reinke uses John Newton (and a few others) to illustrate a helpful corrective to models of pop-grace that have been popular both in our day and in Newton’s:

[I]n our modern culture, where grace has become a synonym for kindness, “Amazing Grace” becomes a sort of hymn to the transforming power of niceness or, a little better, grace becomes abstracted divine benevolence. In either case, grace is depersonalized.

This misunderstanding of grace has led Sinclair Ferguson to go so far as to say there actually is no such thing as grace. It has led Michael Horton to declare that grace is “not a third thing or substance mediating between God and sinners, but is Jesus Christ in redeeming action.” Their point is the same. We must resist the temptation to morph grace into spiritual currency or some abstracted spiritual power that mysteriously ebbs and flows. Grace is not dished out in spiritual gold coins of merit (a serious medieval Roman Catholic error confronted in the Reformation). No. Thinking of grace as spiritual currency is mistaken. To say there is no such thing as grace means that all the grace we have and can ever hope to have—all the sovereign grace, all the all-sufficient grace—is bound up in the favor of the Father and in our union with the Son. (p. 45-46)

I’ll have a full review at Reformation21 when the book comes out. In the meantime, for helpful supplemental material on grace check out this post by Camden Bucey on the topic, written here at Reformed Forum.

I enjoy “Best of…” lists that take us down a 365-day memory lane. I’ll inevitably mouth the words, “Oh yeah!” on cue when I see entries from early 2014. But rather than a “Best of 2014” list, I thought I would post some thoughts on the books I’ve read this past year. Some came out in 2014, but not all. Please pardon its eclectic nature.

General Non-fiction

I didn’t read any 2014 non-fiction titles. Instead, I dipped into my wish/to-do list and knocked out just a few books that were mentally scratching at me over the past few years. I’m currently in the middle of The Bully Pulpit which, among a tower of academic works, I’m hoping to finish by 2016 (I’m half-joking).

Love is A Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield

I found Chuck Klosterman’s description of this book to be most accurate:

No rock critic—living or dead, American or otherwise–has ever written about pop music with the evocative, hyperpoetic perfectitude of Rob Sheffield. ‘Love Is A Mix Tape’ is the happiest, saddest, greatest book about rock ‘n’ roll that I’ve ever experienced.

The music era that is featured in the book focuses on late-80’s to late-90’s, so Gen X readers might resonate with some of the mix tape selections. (Less so for millennials, unless I’m way off on what a millennial is.) The book flows well, and feelings of nostalgia for past songs, experiences, and relationships are inevitable. A good popcorn read.

Unbroken by Lauren Hillebrand (audiobook)

I was finally able to get to this book after it had been recommended to me by just about everyone I know, and just before I found out it was being adapted into a movie. The initial hook of the book is the extreme torment of World War II at the hands of the Japanese, but there are about five sub-stories that could each easily detach as a stand-alone book. From an Olympic Games experience, to a Hitler run-in, to a desert island-like situation, to unspeakable POW conditions, to the social and psychological injuries as a result of all of that, the book is one long jaw-drop. And look for a Billy Graham cameo.

On Writing by Stephen King

Thanks to twitter, I had noticed a few people recommend this book as a starting point for learning about writing. To my shame, I had never read anything by Stephen King, and I learned after the first few pages why his writing is so popular. The book is cut in two, the first part featuring King’s autobiography. I thought his story was engaging, and he teaches writing by example and then, hopefully, through osmosis. The second part is just as engaging, which is difficult to achieve since the focus centers on the art of and technical aspects to writing. King pulls it off, and he makes you feel like you’re having a pleasant conversation with a master about writing. He offered one bit of advice that I immediately applied, which is to have a good amount of reading projects going at the same time, across various genres. My reading life has been more enjoyable since taking this wisdom to heart.

River of Doubt by Candice Millard (audiobook)

Also about Theodore Roosevelt, the book tells the story of the post-President Roosevelt’s trip through the South American Amazon jungle. I learned a ton from this book, about the botany and biology within the Amazon, the sociology of South American Indians, the unique dangers and the immense risk involved with Amazon discovery, and much more. The book starts out at a slower pace, but once you’re past the initial context and groundwork, the adventure picks up and hangs on until the end.

Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson

This was masterfully written by someone who had special access to Jobs, giving unique insight into Jobs’s psychology and his reasons for many decisions that changed entire industries and the world. Jobs’s infantile demeanor has been well-publicized by now, so the book implicitly forces the reader to ask whether social and ethical norms were exchanged by Jobs (knowingly or unknowingly; necessarily or unnecessarily) for genius traits and outcomes. By proxy, the book also gives fascinating crash courses in tech, design, marketing, and retail. I will probably revisit this one at some point.

Theology

Taking God At His Word by Kevin DeYoung

A lot has been said about this book already, so just to re-emphasize, this is one of the best introductions to the doctrine of Scripture out there. If jumping into the deep end of Bavinck, Turretin, and others seems too daunting, this book acts as a good flotation device (if I can overly stretch a metaphor) to help you wade out there. The timeliness of the book contributes to its relevance, as we see more and more literature posing as knowing what the Bible really 1) is, and 2) means, and 3) does, which is 1) mistaken, 2) whatever the majority of American culture is ok with, and 3) emotionally and existentially salves. In a sea of anchorless literature (to now stretch the marine metaphor into absurdity), Kevin’s book gives the Christian reader a firm foundation, which is God’s Word. This book on the Word is in full agreement with the Word he defends. For a TON of helpful material on this topic, check out the media from the WTS Taking God At His Word Conference here.

What’s Your Worldview? by James Anderson

This one came out within the first month of 2014, but it’s one of the best. Not only is it unique in its accessibility given the philosophical nature of the book, but also in its format as a kind of “choose your own adventure” book. Anderson applies philosophy, in the best sense. If you’re just starting to get up to speed on philosophical concepts and terminology, this book also functions as a beginner’s handbook for some of the basics of philosophy. (Our interview here.)

The Final Days of Jesus by Andreas Kostenberger and Justin Taylor

This title also came out in early 2014, and is another unique one from Crossway. It is written in a way that is easy to follow, but communicates awareness of some of the scholarly information (dates, locations, etc.) surrounding what happened during the week leading up to Jesus’s crucifixion. Helpful graphs, charts, commentary, and other aids carry the reader along in a narrative way. I’ll be including this book in my annual Easter reading. (Our interview here.)

The Word of the Lord: Seeing Jesus in the Prophets by Nancy Guthrie

How could I not include the final book from Nancy Guthrie in her “Seeing Jesus in the Old Testament” series? This is the cap to the 5-part series that started back in 2011 with The Promised One. Nancy has a passion for communicating biblical theology and redemptive history to those who may have had little exposure to a redemptive-historical approach. And she’s well-equipped to do so. Each book includes different facets and angles like personal study, discussion, “Looking Forward,” and teaching material. The series deserves a spot on every shelf. (Our interview here.)

Philosophical Theology/Theological Philosophy

I took a course on Molinism this past semester, so I’ll pass along three books that I found helpful and essential for anyone diving into the topic.

On Divine Foreknowledge by Luis De Molina (translated and with an introduction by Alfred J. Freddoso)

I couldn’t believe that Molina’s work, which has caused such a stir in theological circles for the past 500 years, has only been translated in the past 30. But it has, so anyone interested in theology proper, middle knowledge, and 16th/17th c. scholastic debates (both Protestant and Catholic) now have this available as a resource. Molina’s writing and arguments do get repetitive sometimes (as was acknowledged by his peers as well), but his work will bring anyone up to speed on current issues and dialogues with Molinism and Arminianism.

Divine Providence by Thomas Flint

Flint is arguably the Molinist spokesman today, at least in Philosophy of Religion circles, and rightly so. He capably defends his position, though the Molinist position itself, I believe, has suffered some fatal attacks over the years. Coupled with Freddoso’s translation, this title provides a readable overview and defense of Molinism. Like Molina, Flint’s defense becomes somewhat formulaic and repetitive towards the end of the book in his noble attempts at applying middle knowledge to topics outside theology proper. But the book certainly gives the reader a firm grasp of the basics of Molinism and is almost a necessary supplement to Freddoso/Molina.

Molinism: The Contemporary Debate edited by Ken Perszyk

This volume brings the reader up to speed on current topics within the ongoing discussions on Molinism. Subjects include the ever-expanding grounding objection, event segmenting, and the nature of counterfactuals. The book can get quite technical, but someone who has a general knowledge of theological and philosophical categories can follow along reasonably well. Highlights for me were the pieces by Zimmerman and the article by Wierenga. (My RMR here.)

New Thinking About Propositions by Jeffrey C. King, Scott Soames, and Jeff Speaks

This is one of those titles where non-philosophy types will (understandably) roll their eyes, exasperated that ink was spilled not just on the topic of propositions, of all things, but that the literature is such that it requires new thinking on such a topic. But if it’s not so easy to see initially why this topic matters, maybe I can take a stab at helping the reader see why there is any interest here in the first place. In philosophy, sentences that convey meaning are often stated in propositional form so they can be plugged into a logical apparatus. It’s assumed that such a proposition is not language-dependent, so that the same meaning could be expressed in Spanish, or Hebrew, or Celtic, etc., and that multiple people could point to the same trans-linguistic proposition and do things like believe it, and say whether it is true or false. But what is it? What are we referring to? Bringing it home theologically, if we refer to these things called propositions, does God know them? (This question is outside the purview of the book.) Many philosophers of religion think God knows propositions, and perhaps knows propositionally.

I loved this book because it is philosophy written at the highest level, and written by multiple authors all arguing a sophisticated point. Simply reading it is aspirational. All three philosophers write in agreement for the first Part, then interact and differ from Parts II-IV. This title will admittedly find only a small audience, but if there are any philosophy geeks looking for a cutting edge, current (2014) read in the philosophy of language, here you go.

Beyond the Control of God? edited by Paul Gould (Reformed Media Review forthcoming)

I’m thankful to Gould for assembling a competent team of philosophers of religion to weigh in on the heavy topic of God and his relation to abstract objects. This problem can be traced back at least to the scholastic distinction of God’s necessary knowledge, and in contemporary philosophy of religion it bleeds into many areas within theology proper like God’s creation, his sovereignty, his knowledge, his power, the relationship between concrete and abstract objects (if they exist), etc. You will see familiar names like William Lane Craig, Greg Welty (of SEBTS), and Paul Gould himself, among others. The book came out this year and acts as a helpful starting place and access point into the debates. As I note in my upcoming review, I would have liked to have seen more interaction with the theological tradition on this topic (Craig actually includes a helpful nod in this direction) and exegesis that is a bit more penetrating, but I get that this book wants to stay primarily in the philosophical field. Still, the topic straddles both the theological and the philosophical field, so further work that is equally competent in both areas is yet to be written.

God and Necessity by Brian Leftow (Reformed Media Review forthcoming)

I’m cheating by including this book, because I’ve only worked my way through parts of this dense, 500+-page tome. This book displays Leftow’s technical mastery of metaphysics, though many readers will find bits and pieces to differ with because of the massive scope of the project. He offers an approach to the relationship between God and abstract objects that differs somewhat from the approaches taken in Gould’s Beyond God’s Control? Specifically, as the title hints, he wants to place the modal concepts of possibility and necessity under God’s control, so that it is not the case that God simply finds himself in a situation where 2+2=4, but given his truly free choice to create, he has a say over whether that mathematical truth exists. Reformed theologians and philosophers will likely give a hearty “Amen!” to his sharp divide between Creator and creature, as well as a number of other theological priorities. For further reading, Jeff Speaks interacts with Leftow and “perfect being” theology in the late issue of Faith and Philosophy that is well worth a read. For anyone who wants to do some serious heavy lifting both philosophically and theologically, there is a ton to learn here.

On the to-do list:

• Language for God in Patristic Tradition: Wrestling with Biblical Anthropomorphism by Mark Sheridan
• Theology’s Epistemological Dilemma: How Karl Barth and Alvin Plantinga Provide a Unified Response by Kevin Diller
• Sanctification: Explorations in Theology and Practice edited by Kelly Kapic

Was the pre-Fall garden situation as good as it gets?

Unlike a romanticized version of Eden where the garden is sometimes described as perfect, an Edenic version of perfection would be harsh; unless we believe it can’t get any better than

• a mutable, losable communion with God,
• the perpetual possibility of sinning against God,
• the perpetual presence of the dragon/serpent seeking to devour and destroy you,
• and a constant threat of death from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

Contrast that first-Adam scenario with the second-Adam scenario. By his life, death, resurrection, and ascension, Christ has passed the probationary test that Adam failed and

• has crushed the serpent’s head,
• not only conquers death and is raised to new life himself, but becomes a life-giving Spirit (1 Cor. 15:45)
• has the power of an indestructible life (Heb. 7:16)
• has risen never to die again (Rom. 6:9)
• allows believers to eat of the tree of life (Rev. 2:7)
• grants believers entrance into the new city where nothing unclean will ever enter it (Rev. 21:27).

Rather than longing to get back to Eden, Christ points us forward to the new Eden he has secured for his people, where only then will it truly and perfectly be as good as it gets.

Two years ago in 2012, Peter Gentry and Stephen Wellum dropped Kingdom Through Covenant (KTC) onto the theological scene—800+ pages arguing for a “progressive covenantalism” as the middle way between dispensationalism and Presbyterian covenant theology. A scholarly book that critiques sweeping theological systems like dispensationalism and covenant theology deserves attention, so in the fall of 2012 Jonathan Brack and I took a directed reading/independent study course at WTS that focused on KTC and covenant theology. From that course, we produced papers that touched on particular theological topics addressed in KTC such as typology, hermeneutics, ecclesiology, soteriology, and baptism. The Westminster Theological Journal review article below is a (heavily edited) version of those papers. After two years, there are some things I would change about the article, though I think the pillars of the paper still stand. But see for yourself.

Jonathan M. Brack & Jared S. Oliphint, Questioning the Progress in Progressive Covenantalism

Used with permission. Jonathan M. Brack and Jared S. Oliphint, “Questioning the Progress of Progressive Covenantalism,” Westminster Theological Journal 76 (2014): 189-217.

Regarding his particular response post to Jen, two distinct but related questions arise: 1) Does Jen Wilkin’s article display all the weaknesses that Tullian claims? and 2) Does Tullian understand Jen’s article?

Mike Kruger of RTS Charlotte addressed those two questions in a superb analysis of Tullian’s post. He walks us through Tullian’s post and demonstrates how Tullian focuses only on the second use of the law, ignoring its third use. And Mark Jones has openly asked Tullian to debate these points at a forum of his choosing.

In most of his writing, Tullian demonstrates clear concern for the believer through his or her struggle with sin. He knows many Christians who have experienced real pain from ongoing guilt, and from the crippling shackles of legalistic thinking. For anyone who has witnessed and ministered to believers who fight every day to shake the heavy burden of legalism off their back, we can stand shoulder to shoulder with Tullian’s concern to lead believers to Christ-centered joy.

In response to Jen’s article, Tullian says he has “never encountered a Christian who ‘celebrates failure.’” I have no reason to suspect otherwise, so point well taken, but I’m not sure Tullian understands the spirit of Jen’s phrase “celebratory failurism.” “Celebratory” may be hyperbolic. Granted. Let’s go with “sanctioning failure,” because Tullian himself says on many occasions that Christians are “free to fail.”

“Fail.” Tullian has mentioned that we are “free to fail” here, here, and here again where he re-posts his identical previous post, “Does Grace Make You Lazy?” Tullian can mean two different things by this word “fail”—he either means failing at something amoral, like doing a cartwheel or mastering calculus, or he means failing to keep God’s law, which is by definition sinning. If he means the former, his point becomes moot, because Christ did not die for our amoral failures at particular skills and abilities, he died for our sins. If by “fail” he means “sin,” he has quite a bit of explaining to do. “Free to sin” sounds foreign to Scripture’s teaching on sin. “Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means!” (Rom. 6:1-2), to quote one verse out of several that says the exact opposite of Tullian’s phrase. Though he quotes Rom. 8:31ff to support his overall argument, that passage speaks about believers from the standpoint of their election and their justification. Paul does not discuss sanctification in that section; he focuses on Christ’s accomplished work, and on trials that are thrust upon believers. Tullian’s misunderstanding of the passage misses Paul’s pastoral punch.

So how did Tullian get there if Scripture communicates in such a clear way that we are not free to sin? Tullian perpetually posts on the topic of “law and gospel.” He quotes Beza on law and gospel in his response to Jen (and has used that same quote three times previously on his blog here, here, and in an interview with Mike Horton here). He also quotes Machen (again, a quote he has used three times previously (here, here, and here). On the Machen quote in particular, Tullian cuts and pastes selectively from Machen’s What Is Faith? The quote rings true on its own (part of the reason for its perpetual reappearance on twitter), but has a broader context necessary for understanding its full meaning:

The truth of Christianity cannot be established by the intellect unless an important part of the argument is based upon the fact of sin which is revealed by the law of God; the beauty of Jesus, which attracts the gaze of men, cannot be appreciated without a knowledge of the holiness upon which it is based; the companionship of Jesus is possible only to those who say first, in deep contrition; “Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord”; the example of Jesus is powerless to those who are in the bondage of evil habit, and it is not even a perfect example unless He be the divine Redeemer that He claimed to be. The true schoolmaster to bring men to Christ is found, therefore, now and always in the law of God— the law of God that gives to men the consciousness of sin.

A new and more powerful proclamation of that law is perhaps the most pressing need of the hour; men would have little difficulty with the gospel if they had only learned the lesson of the law. As it is, they are turning aside from the Christian pathway; they are turning to the village of Morality, and to the house of Mr. Legality, who is reported to be very skillful in relieving men of their burdens. Mr. Legality has indeed in our day disguised himself somewhat, but he is the same deceiver as the one of whom Bunyan wrote.

“Making Christ Master” in the life, putting into practice “the principles of Christ” by one’s own efforts these are merely new ways of earning salvation by one’s own obedience to God’s commands. And they are undertaken because of a lax view of what those commands are. So it always is: a low view of law always brings legalism in religion; a high view of law makes a man a seeker after grace. (J. Gresham Machen, What Is Faith?, p. 141-142)

So Machen’s point does not pit law and gospel against each other, but pits legalism’s law against Christian law.

Tullian’s reason for saying we are “free to fail” is that “Jesus succeeded for you.” Jesus most certainly succeeded for us, but Tullian takes that truth and draws a false implication from it, confusing what Christ redemptively accomplished in history from how it applies redemptively in the life of individual believers. The redemption Christ accomplished in history comes to us through union with him, which then gives us the redemptive benefits of justification, sanctification (both definitive and progressive), and adoption in Christ. Tullian’s concern over sin and guilt in the Christian life falls under the topic of progressive sanctification, but Tullian intentionally gives only one solution for progressive sanctification within the Christian life: “the law can instruct, but only grace can inspire,” “grace and grace alone carries the power to inspire what the law demands.” He eliminates the law as an option for motivation in the Christian life: “Telling people to change can’t change them,” “Nowhere does the Bible say that the law produces love. Nowhere.” (Actually, the Bible speaks more strongly than what Tullian rejects; Psalm 119: 97ff talks about loving the law itself, which includes love towards others and towards God.) Tullian also advocates an understanding of sanctification that is only passive: “What causes actual love for God is God’s love for us,” and “sanctification consists of an increased realization of our weakness and just how much grace we need.” Both of those statements are true, but they are not exclusively true. He eliminates as possibilities other elements of the sanctified Christian life that involve effort,

For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, 6 and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, 7 and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love. (2 Pet. 1:5-7)

striving,

Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord. (Heb. 12:14),

work,

Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, 13 for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. (Phil. 2:12-13),

and keeping the law,

Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law. (Rom. 13:10).

Though I have no doubt Tullian’s heart burns to help believers in their struggle with sin and guilt, true compassion carries with it both intent and content. The former should be pure, and the latter should be true. Tullian’s content, while pure in intention, ends up being less compassionate, because he feeds his readers less than the whole truth of Scripture’s teaching on both the law and the gospel.

In light of the recent discussion on “The Future of Protestantism,” I thought I would post Machen’s take on church unity as he deals with this topic in his classic work, Christianity and Liberalism:

We are not dealing here with delicate personal questions; we are not presuming to say whether such and such an individual man is a Christian or not. God only can decide such questions; no man can say with assurance whether the attitude of certain individual “liberals” toward Christ is saving faith or not. But one thing is perfectly plain—whether or not liberals are Christians, it is at any rate perfectly clear that liberalism is not Christianity. And that being the case, it is highly undesirable that liberalism and Christianity should continue to be propagated within the bounds of the same organization. A separation between the two parties in the Church is the crying need of the hour.

Many indeed are seeking to avoid the separation. Why, they say, may not brethren dwell together in unity? The Church, we are told, has room both for liberals and for conservatives. The conservatives may be allowed to remain if they will keep trifling matters in the background and attend chiefly to “the weightier matters of the law.” And among the things thus designated as “trifling” is found the Cross of Christ, as a really vicarious atonement for sin.

Such obscuration of the issue attests a really astonishing narrowness on the part of the liberal preacher. Narrowness does not consist in definite devotion to certain convictions or in definite rejection of others. But the narrow man is the man who rejects the other man’s convictions without first endeavoring to understand them, the man who makes no effort to look at things from the other man’s point of view. For example, it is not narrow to reject the Roman Catholic doctrine that there is no salvation outside the Church. It is not narrow to try to convince Roman Catholics that that doctrine is wrong. But it would be very narrow to say to a Roman Catholic: “You may go on holding your doctrine about the Church and I shall hold mine, but let us unite in our Christian work, since despite such trifling differences we are agreed about the matters that concern the welfare of the soul.” For of course such an utterance would simply beg the question; the Roman Catholic could not possibly both hold his doctrine of the Church and at the same time reject it, as would be required by the program of Church unity just suggested. A Protestant who would speak in that way would be narrow, because quite independent of the question whether he or the Roman Catholic is right about the Church he would show plainly that he had not made the slightest effort to understand the Roman Catholic point of view.

The case is similar with the liberal program for unity in the Church. It could never be advocated by anyone who had made the slightest effort to understand the point of view of his opponent in the controversy. The liberal preacher says to the conservative party in the Church: “Let us unite in the same congregation, since of course doctrinal differences are trifles.” But it is the very essence of “conservatism” in the Church to regard doctrinal differences as no trifles but as the matters of supreme moment. A man cannot possibly be an “evangelical” or a “conservative” (or, as he himself would say, simply a Christian) and regard the Cross of Christ as a trifle. To suppose that he can is the extreme of narrowness. It is not necessarily “narrow” to reject the vicarious sacrifice of our Lord as the sole means of salvation. It may be very wrong (and we believe that it is), but it is not necessarily narrow. But to suppose that a man can hold to the vicarious sacrifice of Christ and at the same time belittle that doctrine, to suppose that a man can believe that the eternal Son of God really bore the guilt of men’s sins on the Cross and at the same time regard that belief as a “trifle” without bearing upon the welfare of men’s souls − that is very narrow and very absurd. We shall really get nowhere in this controversy unless we make a sincere effort to understand the other man’s point of view.

J. Gresham Machen, Christianity and Liberalism (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2009), 136–37.

Of the four main attributes of Scripture—sufficiency, clarity/perspicuity, authority, and necessity—Kevin DeYoung has this to say in his new book, Taking God At His Word, in part interacting with Hebrews 1:1–4:

Of the four attributes of Scripture, this may be the one that evangelicals forget first. If authority is the liberal problem, clarity the postmodern problem, and necessity the problem for atheists and agnostics, then sufficiency is the attribute most quickly doubted by rank-and-file churchgoing Christians. We can say all the right things about the Bible, and even read it regularly, but when life gets difficult, or just a bit boring, we look for new words, new revelation, and new experiences to bring us closer to God. We feel rather ho-hum about the New Testament’s description of heaven, but we are mesmerized by the accounts of school-age children who claim to have gone there and back. From magazine articles about “My Conversation with God” (see chapter 2), to best-selling books where God is depicted as giving special, private communications, we can easily operate as if the Bible were not enough. If we could only have something more than the Scriptures, then we would be really close to Jesus and know his love for us.

Unless, of course, the finality of Christ’s redemption for us is intimately tied to the finality of his revelation to us.

Kevin DeYoung, Taking God At His Word: Why the Bible is Knowable, Necessary, and Enough, and What That Means for You and Me. (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2014), 43–44.

——————

In counseling, there is always a worldview. There is a way of interpreting problems. There is a way of defining causality. There is a way of understanding influence. There is always a proposal for cure. There is always a goal that defines what thriving humans really look like. There is always a sense of a trajectory of change and growth and flourishing; how does a person come from a place that’s bad and hard and difficult and tormented and destructive to a place that’s relatively constructive, and start to flourish? Every single counselor has a view and answer to all those questions, whether they will admit it or not.

Why do we put the adjectives “biblical” and “Christian” in front of “counseling”? We want to consider the things that our culture’s counselors never say:

• It does not get said in our culture’s counseling that “Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” [Matt. 4:4]
• It does not get said that, “Cast your cares upon him” because it matters to Him. [1 Pet. 5:7]
• It does not get said that, “He has said, ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you.’” [Heb. 13:5] Therefore you can confidently say, “The Lord is my helper. I will not fear. What can man do to me?” [Heb. 13:6]
• They never mention that God has a name.
• They never mention that God searches every heart and that every human being will give account before God.
• They never teach the fear of the Lord that is the beginning of wisdom.
• They never mention sinfulness and sin and that there is some kind of compulsive and obsessive drive in people to suppress the knowledge of God.
• They never mention that suffering is meaningful within larger purposes.
• They never mention Jesus Christ because Jesus is a standing insult to self-esteem, self-trust, self-confidence and all the “self” words that our culture believes are the answer to what is wrong with us.
• They never mention that God really does forgive sins.
• They never mention that the Lord is our refuge, and in the midst of terrible afflictions it is possible to walk through the valley of the shadow of death and lose all earthly good and not to despair because he is with us. There is safety—fundamental safety and refuge.
• They never mention that biological factors and personal history factors exist within the purposes of God. That those things locate our struggles and moral responsibility but do not trump moral responsibility.
• They never mention our propensity to return evil for evil, or that we should return evil with good.
• They never mention that human beings are meant to become, will all our heart, conscious worshipers.
• They never mention that we are meant to live to use our God-given gifts to further dedicate our lives to the coming of his kingdom.
• They never mention that the power to change does not lie within ourselves. There is an implicit belief that in some way if you can just understand yourself well enough and tap into interior resources and find enough support of human relationships and maybe get a bit of a chemical tweak on your moods and emotions, somehow that’s enough.
• They do not pray with and for people.

But there is a Father who is a Vinedresser, and there is a Son who is a Shepherd, and there is a Holy Spirit who is a life-giver and a fruit-giver. There is someone outside ourselves who is why we want counseling to be Christian, worthy of the name “Christian.” Part of our worldview is that problems do not get solved until the day we see Him face to face. Only then are the tears all gone. Only then is the struggle with our besetting sins all gone. But that hope is a true hope.

(From an address given by David Powlison in Charlotte, NC on Tues, April 1, 2014. Some parts of the message are reproduced here verbatim and some parts are summarized.)

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Are those unmentioned truths essential for counseling, counselors, and counseling training, or are they peripheral?

In his masterful two-volume work, The Church of Christ, James Bannerman explores the various ways the word “church” is used. For example, “the term Church is used in Scripture to denote the whole body throughout the world of those that outwardly profess the faith of Christ.” One of the ways Bannerman connects ecclesiology to soteriology and the gospel is through (not surprisingly) union with Christ.

Bannerman recognizes the reality of the invisible/visible church distinction, which affirms that some people within the visible church on earth are not elect; that apostasy exists. He then uses John 15 as exegetical warrant to apply this invisible/visible distinction within ecclesiology to individual soteriology and the kinds of union with Christ described by Christ himself, recorded by John in chapter 15. For discussions surrounding the relationship between ecclesiology and soteriology, this distinction gets overlooked too often. Bannerman:

[O]ur Lord likens the relation between Himself and His Church to the union subsisting between the vine and the branches. “I am the true vine,” said He, “and my Father is the husbandman. Every branch in me that beareth not fruit He taketh away; and every branch that beareth fruit He purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit.” “I am the vine, ye are the branches.” “If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered.” It is plain that in such language our Lord recognised a twofold union to Himself,—one, a living union, like that of the fruitful branch in the vine; the other, a dead or mere external union, such as the unfruitful branch in the vine, that was cast forth and withered; and such precisely is the two-fold connection with Christ, exemplified in the case respectively of the invisible and the visible Church. Those who are united to the Saviour by a living union,—unseen indeed of men, but known to Him,—constitute that society of believers spoken of in Scripture as the spiritual or invisible Church of Christ. Those, on the other hand, who are united to the Saviour by an external union of outward profession and outward privileges, known and seen of men, numbering among them the true believers in Christ, but not exclusively made up of true believers, constitute the visible Church. “The visible Church,” says the Confession of Faith, “which is also catholic or universal under the gospel (not confined to one nation as before under the law), consists of all those throughout the world that profess the true religion, together with their children, and is the kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ, the house and family of God, out of which there is no ordinary possibility of salvation.”

James Bannerman, vol. 1, The Church of Christ: A Treatise on the Nature, Powers, Ordinances, Discipline, and Government of the Christian Church (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1868), 10-11.

Put as simply as possible, we see three categories:

1. Visible unbelievers (outside the church) and invisible (non-elect) unbelievers (not on the vine)
2. Visible believers (inside the church) yet invisible (non-elect) unbelievers (united on the vine, but dead)
3. Visible believers (inside the church) and invisible (elect) believers (united on the vine, alive)

On March 12, 2014 at Westminster Theological Seminary, John Piper delivered the seventh annual Richard Gaffin lecture on theology, culture, and missions entitled, “The New Calvinism and the New Community: The Doctrines of Grace and the Meaning of Race.” The whole message is well worth your time, but I wanted to highlight what I thought was a remarkably accurate, thorough, and perceptive description of the New Calvinism. As you read the list, keep in mind it is descriptive, not prescriptive or evaluative. Dr. Piper was also careful to emphasize that this list is a list of features, not distinctives that separate the New Calvinism from the Old Calvinism. Like any historical comparison, there are points of continuity and discontinuity between the New and Old, pros and cons to both Old and New, but those evaluations form a different topic. This list, I think, provides precision and scope to descriptions of the current Reformed and evangelical worlds.

Twelve features of the New Calvinism:

1. The New Calvinism, in its allegiance to the inerrancy of the Bible, embraces the biblical truths behind the five points (TULIP), while having an aversion to using the acronym or any other systematic packaging, along with a sometimes qualified embrace of limited atonement. The focus is on Calvinistic soteriology but not to the exclusion or the appreciation of the broader scope of Calvin’s vision.
2. The New Calvinism embraces the sovereignty of God in salvation, and in all the affairs of life in history, including evil and suffering.
3. The New Calvinism has a strong complementarian flavor as opposed to egalitarian, with an emphasis on the flourishing of men and women in relationships where men embrace a call to robust, humble, Christ-like servant leadership.
4. The New Calvinism leans toward being culture-affirming rather than culture-denying, while holding fast to some very culturally alien positions, like positions on same-sex practice and abortion.
5. The New Calvinism embraces the essential place of the local church. It is led mainly by pastors, has a vibrant church-planting bent, produces widely-sung worship music, and exalts the preached word as central to the work of God locally and globally.
6. The New Calvinism is aggressively mission-driven, including missional impact on social evils, evangelistic impact on personal networks, and missionary impact on unreached peoples of the world.
7. The New Calvinism is inter-denominational with a strong (some would say oxymoronic) Baptistic element.
8. The New Calvinism includes charismatics and non-charismatics.
9. The New Calvinism puts a priority on pietism or piety in the Puritan vein, with an emphasis on the essential role of affections in Christian living, while esteeming the life of the mind and being very productive in it, and embracing the value of serious scholarship. Jonathan Edwards would be invoked as a model of this combination of the affections and the life of the mind more often than John Calvin, whether that’s fair to Calvin or not.
10. The New Calvinism is vibrantly engaged in publishing books and even more remarkably in the world of the internet, with hundreds of energetic bloggers and social media activists, with Twitter as the increasingly default way of signaling things new and old that should be noticed and read.
11. The New Calvinism is international in scope, multi-ethnic in expression, culturally diverse. There is no single geographic, racial, cultural governing center. There are no officers, no organization, nor any loose affiliation that would encompass the whole. I would dare say that there are outcroppings of this movement that nobody (including me) in this room has ever heard of.
12. The New Calvinism is robustly gospel-centered, cross-centered, with dozens of books rolling off the presses, coming at the gospel from every conceivable angle, and applying it to all areas of life with a commitment to seeing the historic doctrine of justification, finding its fruit in sanctification personally and communally.

If I didn’t think it would be repellent, I would write this post in all caps with bold, italics, and underlined font. Behind the scenes in Bellingham, WA, Logos Bible Software has been working on what I predict will be a genuine game-changer for Reformed research, scholarship, and education. Add this as the most recent significant event on Tim Challies’ “Where Did All These Calvinists Come From?”

As a Logos user for the past few years, I have experienced unexpected benefits from using the program for exegesis and theological research—mining the original languages, consulting online commentaries, and searching with breakneck speed through digitized theological volumes. But as research progressed, I found myself in a financial position of only being able to purchase a couple digitized Reformed works—the works of Cornelius Van Til and Richard Muller’s 4-volume Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, for example.

Today, Logos releases the Reformed base package, taking the power of its program and applying it to an unprecedented amount of Reformed gold. Check out what the Platinum package includes:

• Calvin’s Institutes (2 vols), his tracts and treatises (8 vols), and his commentaries (46 vols)
• The works of John Owen (including Hebrews commentary)
• The works of Thomas Goodwin (12 vols)
• The works of Charles Hodge (29 vols)
• Select works of Geerhardus Vos
• B.B. Warfield Collection (20 vols)
• Bavinck’s Reformed Dogmatics (4 vols)

and on and on. The list above is a tiny sample from the master list of what the package includes.

This post only serves as a brief heads up, but stay tuned for a full episode of Reformed Media Review where we will go into detail about this, and we will also let you know about more exciting things coming from Logos.

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Disclosure: Logos provided a review copy of this software package.

Real estate employees once used this building for selling property before the structure became home to the PRC. Our grand tour winds its way through offices, counseling rooms, a place to store baby clothes and goods, and a small kitchen area for the saintly staff. At a small table in the small kitchen-esque room, my associate pastor Sean McCann leads the devotions at 9:15am. He turns to Judges and gives an encouraging word—God uses the weak to do great things. Though these PRC women must be among the most psychologically strong women on the planet, the forces opposing them make Sean’s encouraging words most appropriate.

While taking the tour, we hear stories and stats. Our guide, Erin, mentioned in passing that among those women who receive ultrasounds, 70% choose life for their unborn child. The biggest abortion mill in Charlotte puts a $140 price tag on their ultrasound service, but the PRC offers them for free. And they do not merely sit and wait to see who takes them up on that offer; they have a mobile unit.

The mobile unit of the PRC offers hope, encouragement, life, but also danger. Often only two women drive the re-appropriated RV to the abortion clinic, surrounded by pro-abortion hired bodyguards for abortion-minded mothers and their supporters. Our pro-life center does not have the funding that abortion mills have, so you won’t see bodyguards for the PRC female staff on what can often be a mission filled with unknown elements. The pro-life warrior-drivers can face peripheral, unexpected hurdles from within a neighborhood filled with typical challenges from inner-city life.

You may have heard stories of enthusiastic pro-lifers, probably with good intentions, standing outside abortion mills with gruesome, disturbing, but pictorially accurate images of aborted babies. While that approach may have at times dissuaded someone who is abortion-minded away from following through with the procedure, the PRC takes an alternative approach. They make efforts to focus on the positive—specifically, the desired outcome of life for the baby, and the rescue afterlife for both the baby and the mother. To my ears, this seemed to be a refreshing, helpful approach.

We find tangible, encouraging signs in the PRC basement. The door opens to about sixty baskets filled with clothes and other baby essentials ready to go out the door and into about sixty new mothers’ homes. The items today have been donated by a local church, and this generosity happens regularly enough to trigger an unqualified smile from those of us in the room.

A few desks filled the counseling room, with phones at each station waiting to be the line between life and death for the babies on the far end of the conversations. A counseling coach sits at one end of the room, and she makes sure these conversations go well, because no one has to say out loud that the stakes here are as high as it gets. The PRC has also recently broadened its reach by using technology that increases the amount of cold calls it receives from women who have no patience for anything but an abortion on demand. Those calls are the scariest, and those calls go through a dedicated phone line to a dedicated staff member trained to walk the mother, and by proxy her own child, back off the abortion ledge. I find myself at multiple times wanting to expel an outburst of, “You are all saving lives every day! How can you be so nice and normal? And you’re doing it against a tide of opposition that continually seeks to offer up millions of child sacrifices to an abstract notion of ‘Choice’!” But I refrain.

The PRC shows compassion in an intelligent way. Abortion-minded mothers have different needs, both physically and emotionally, from post-abortive mothers. Baby clothes produce a reaction of hope for some, a reaction of despair and grief for others, so those kinds of symbolic tangibles appear only in the appropriate rooms. Thought and care go into every detail.

As we circle back to make our exit, the buzz and hum of life outside this building prompts a range of conflicting internal responses. Life buzzes outside these doors. Each person who drives by, each employee in the windows of neighboring businesses, was given a chance for that life. I doubt a similar thought runs through the minds of the people I see, because I must admit it seldom enters my mind. But the women and men who work at the PRC, both staff and volunteers, have elected to face that reality throughout the bulk of every week.

I can only end in the most obvious way—by urging you, the reader, to seek out a similar facility within your context. I waited too long in my life simply to gas up the car, make the drive, and pay a visit to see if there is anything I can do to help this cause, these people, and countless unseen, unborn babies. Churches can support local PRC’s financially and by gathering baby necessities. Individuals can offer help in many ways, sometimes by merely being an added physical presence in places where pro-life numbers are faint, compared to the high pro-abortion volume. Let’s get out there.

[I]t is ever necessary to remind ourselves that abrupt eschatology is inherent in the Christian scheme. It was prepared under the auspices of this, born under them, and must in the end stand or fall with the acceptance or denial of them. This is generic eschatology. A simple consideration of the factors in the case suffices to show how indispensable it is. Even if by persistent application of the gradual processes in the most intensive missionary propaganda, it were possible to convert every individual in the world, this would not provide for the conversion of the generations passed away in the course of history, and which none of our means of grace can reach. And, even discounting this, the conversion of all individuals would not make of them perfectly sinless individuals, except one were to take refuge in the doctrine of perfectionism. The sum total of men, therefore, living at any time would, in order to form a perfect world, stand in need of a marvelous soteric and ethical transformation, such as would rightly deserve the name of eschatology. But even this would not exhaust the factors necessary for the establishment of a perfect order of affairs, because the present physical state of the world with its numerous abnormalities, including human physical weaknesses and defects, would render the continuance of such a state of perfection impossible. Thus there would be created as a further element in generic eschatology the need of a transformation of the physical universe, including the resurrection of the body. [Geerhardus Vos, Biblical Theology (Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth, 2000), 379–80.]

Eschatological redemption is not by works either.

If we fear that this truth puts a damper on missions, we have nothing less than the words of Christ himself to counter those fears and to lead us toward action:

And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:18–20)

Not only do we have the words of Christ to spur our mission, but we have Christ himself. Richard Gaffin:

It’s fair also to say that the church has been most captured by the challenge of the Great Commission, especially the largeness of the challenge, the sheer magnitude of the task in view there. The “all”s are quite pronounced: “Disciple all nations,” Jesus says; “teach everything I have commanded.” So, you see, we have a challenge here that is both extensive and intensive, as comprehensive as it is universal…

Promise yourself this before God, that you will never again quote Matthew 28:19 and 20 without verse 18. That you will always emphasize the “therefore.” That you will never overlook that the bookends of the Great Commission are, in fact, its indispensable basis—our Lord Jesus Christ himself. Promise yourself that you will not become so preoccupied with the challenge of the Great Commission that you miss its comfort—the contentment and confidence in Christ it also provides.

With the growth of Reformed ideas comes a jockeying to define what “Reformed” is and is not; or more frequently, who is and who is not. One hot topic has been whether Baptists have a right to plant their flag on Reformed turf. Those who answer in the negative are typically under the mistaken impression that they own the title and deed to the bulk of Reformed real estate. Many well-known authors and speakers have fallen into the hands of self-appointed Reformed gatekeepers who frequently give a thumbs up or thumbs down on others’ Reformed status.

Counting myself squarely in the “Reformed” camp, I have wrestled with how to sort out this question of who is and isn’t Reformed, and I’ve recently realized that, in one sense, it’s kind of a stupid question. People in generally Reformed circles have a complex set of overlapping, intersecting, and systemically complex beliefs, so asking them to stand single file in one of only two lines does not reflect that complexity.

Instead of placing someone in the Reformed bin or in the non-Reformed bin after a clunky evaluation process, we better serve the person and his or her nuances by evaluating specific beliefs. That method of evaluation should involve a comparison of beliefs to Reformed confessions and creeds, as well as those works that have endured within the Reformed tradition. And for a reminder, all those Reformed confessions and books are only as true as the biblical passages and principles from which they are derived. Pondering whether someone is Reformed is like asking whether someone is “biblical.”

Consider a few benefits to evaluating (when necessary) the beliefs of a person rather than that person in his or her entirety:

1. Accuracy. The label “Reformed” is not able to bear the burden of accurately encompassing a person whose set of beliefs may include both Reformed beliefs and non-Reformed beliefs. Having to choose one label for such a set of beliefs sacrifices the accuracy of that label to some degree.
2. Anti-aristocracy. Conversations surrounding this topic often implicitly devolve into who gets placed within the inner circle and who has to look in from the outside; who receives admission to the club and who gets bounced. Speaking of Reformed beliefs rather than Reformed people eliminates a measure of elitism.
3. Accessibility. Because people often do not express every belief they hold, limiting the “Reformed” label to beliefs rather than people focuses the discussion on that which is public. If Chuck has expressed his appreciation for the practical benefits of predestination within his prayer life but hasn’t said much on the covenants, or baptism, or Old Testament typology, or complementarianism, is Chuck Reformed? Not a great question. Is Chuck’s belief about God’s sovereignty Reformed? That’s better.

I hold this general principle loosely, and at a basic level I’m simply seeking to make a linguistic, terminological point rather than a doctrinal one. I certainly call myself Reformed in ordinary language. I have said things like “B.B. Warfield is Reformed,” “many Reformed theologians…” and other obviously appropriate statements. I subscribe to the Westminster Standards. But when we observe significant swaths of churchgoers who are on their way to a more robust Reformed theology, a complexity that accompanies the current theological flux within Reformed circles should be reflected in our use of the “Reformed” label.

In By Faith, Not By Sight Richard Gaffin summarizes a redemptive-historical (or covenant-historical, biblical-theological) hermeneutic, distinct from a purely grammatical-historical hermeneutic. For discussions regarding the doctrine of Scripture, and especially the New Testament use of the Old, this hermeneutical distinction is key. Gaffin makes the same case in other works, more explicitly in Biblical Hermeneutics: Five Views and by way of Geerhardus Vos in the introduction to Redemptive History and Biblical Interpretation. This hermeneutical approach seeks to apply, in a biblically consistent way, answers to questions like,

“What if an Old Testament biblical writer would not have fully recognized the prophetic, messianic fulfillment of what he was writing?”

“What priority does Ancient Near Eastern texts, customs, cultures, and practices hold within biblical interpretation?”

“Do New Testament writers take Old Testament texts out of context and appropriate them for their own purposes?”

Gaffin does not address all those questions in the section below, but he does provide principles that help toward answering those specific questions involving a range of texts:

That Paul’s teaching is God’s word—it is hardly gratuitous for our times to add here—is true formally as well as materially, true not just in its content but also in its oral and written form. To deny that, to deny that the text as text is God’s word, to deny that equation by alleging some factor of discontinuity between the two, between the text and God’s word, or by finding a tension between them, between a message with an allegedly divine referent dialectically embedded in a text, which, as text, as a linguistic phenomena, is of purely human origin and so questionable and fallible—such denials are Enlightenment and post-Enlightenment, and, I would add, postmodern construals that Paul would simply find foreign. At least that is so if we are to take 2 Timothy 3:16 and other like passages at face value.

A couple of implications of the word-of-God character of Paul’s teaching may be noted here briefly. One important methodological consideration is that in interpreting his letters, with all due attention to various dimensions of his immediate historical context, including relevant extra-canonical texts and materials, the context not only primary but privileged is the canonical context. For any given passage in Paul, the ultimately controlling context is the expanding horizon of contexts provided by the rest of Scripture, beginning with his letters as a whole. This basic hermeneutical stance, it bears stressing, is not bound up with some “abstract Scripture principle,” as it is wont to be dismissed by some, but is anchored in a consideration already noted, the redemptive-historical factor. Paul’s letters have their origin, their integral place and their intended function within the organically unfolding history of revelation, and Scripture as a whole, the canon, with its own production being a part of that history, is our only normative access to it.

Richard Gaffin By Faith, Not By Sight (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2013), 9-10.

For further reading and listening:

• By Faith, Not By Sight “Audiobook” (original lectures)
• “Doctrine of Salvation I” course (36 lectures) on iTunesU by Richard Gaffin
• Biblical Hermeneutics: Five Views
• Biblical Theology – Geerhardus Vos
• Redemptive History and Biblical Interpretation: The Shorter Writings of Geerhardus Vos
• Perspective on Pentecost – Richard Gaffin
• The Erosion of Inerrancy in Evangelicalism – G.K. Beale
• Handbook on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament – G.K. Beale

Within the doctrine of “definite atonement” you’ll find a nest of theological topics: doctrine of salvation, doctrine of God, the history of redemption, Christology, ecclesiology…hardly a theological concept remains untouched. The recently released 700+ page volume From Heaven He Came and Sought Her attests to the doctrine’s systemic nature by the depth and breadth of its content and by its size (and its endorsements; check them out at the link). For anyone interested, we interviewed the editors, David Gibson and Jonathan Gibson, and Carl Trueman (a contributor) on Reformed Forum here. The Gibson brothers were a pleasure to talk to.

Without rehashing the discussion currently going on at Andrew Wilson and company’s blog (the original review, Gibson’s response, and Wilson’s response; HT: JT), I’ll try to lay out just a few principles and ground rules that may help those who are following the discussion.

Two central questions emerge from the conversation between Wilson and Gibson:

1. What constitutes biblically warranted theological conclusions, and
2. Given the answer to (1), is the doctrine of “limited/definite atonement” a biblically warranted conclusion?

In counterintuitive fashion, I’ll take the second question first and use it as an example for answering the first.

“Limited Atonement”

Why do some Reformed historians put those words in quotes? The student of church history will feel torn on this topic. He feels the urge to avoid sounding curmudgeonly, but can’t help but situate the current discussion and terminology of limited atonement within its multi-century history (which From Heaven He Came accomplished in pages 55-224). Like a parent worn out by having constantly to repeat “What did I just say?,” repetition fatigue can set in. A little over a year ago I posted this section [link now defunct] from Richard Muller’s book (again, you should read it because it’s very important, a significant contribution, yada yada) Calvin and the Reformed Tradition (now also available at Logos!). Rather than quoting large blocks I’ll summarize relevant parts below, which means some nuance will be lost, which also means you should read the relevant chapters if you’re looking for further details. Get the book, but you’ll find the chapter on “Calvin on Christ’s Satisfaction and Its Efficacy: The Issue of ‘Limited Atonement’” in PDF form here and the chapter on “A Tale of Two Wills? Calvin and Amyraut on Ezekiel 18:23” in PDF form here. These should function as necessary companions to From Heaven He Came.

Wilson’s desire to be biblical deserves applause, though like every other evangelical claim to be biblical, the question of what biblical means lies in the details. I’m not sure there exists even a small contingent of evangelicals who offer public defense for being unbiblical. Wilson asks multiple times, “Is definite atonement, the belief that Christ’s death was intended to win the salvation of God’s people alone, taught by any biblical writers?” Seems like a simple yes or no question, but on closer inspection it is packed with assumptions. It may reflect good assumptions or bad assumptions, but they should be acknowledged.

First, is Wilson expecting that all the essential aspects of a particular doctrine be taught by one biblical writer, presumably in one passage? Here we find a more specific example of our first question above.

Second, is the doctrine of limited atonement summarized by the statement, “Christ’s death was intended to win the salvation of God’s people alone?”

We’ll delay answering the first question, but the second question can quickly and emphatically be answered “no.” A few reasons:

1) Terminology matters. Muller reveals the anachronistic, vague, and therefore unhelpful status of the term “limited atonement” (not just because “limited” sounds exclusive; we’ll save the topic of marketing Reformed theology for another day). “Atonement” is an English word that was used after the doctrine was most pointedly debated and established in the period of high orthodoxy. “Satisfaction,” “propitiation,” “expiation,” “oblation,” “sufficiency,” “efficiency,” “impetration,” and “application” were included as key terms in the development of the doctrine. “Atonement” tends to flatten the nuances of those key terms.

2) From Muller:

Note that the statement “Christ died for the elect only,” if understood as referencing the efficacy of his satisfaction, could be confessed equally by Calvin, Beza, Amyraut, and Arminius, while the meaning of statement that his “death was not intended to atone for the sins of all mankind” depends entirely on whether atonement is understood in terms of its objective accomplishment (expiatio, impetratio) or its application (applicatio) and whether the “intention” references an effective divine willing or a revealed, preceptive divine willing. [Richard A. Muller, Calvin and the Reformed Tradition: On the Work of Christ and the Order of Salvation (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2012), 73n11.]

If Wilson believes that “Christ died for his people alone” is unbiblical, depending on the interpretation of this vague phrase, strictly speaking he not only puts himself beyond Reformed theology, but beyond Amyraldianism and Arminianism. You won’t find good theological company outside those camps. Boiling down the point of discussion to whether “Christ died for his people alone” betrays a lack of understanding of the issue, but also a commitment to a particular take on the doctrine that, to borrow Wilson’s phrase, “seems so clearly to be wagging the exegetical dog.” Wilson doesn’t come to the biblical text as a blank slate, but he reads the passages relevant to this discussion through a hermeneutical lens informed by his particular theological commitments, and those commitments are displayed in his original interaction with the book and his subsequent response to Gibson.

Redemption Accomplished and Applied

The quote above by Muller illustrates the basic, fundamental, and crucial nature of the categories redemption accomplished and redemption applied. Richard Gaffin insists on this point (one of the reasons I promote his work so heavily) and he stands on the shoulders of John Murray, Ridderbos, Vos, and the bulk of the Reformed tradition before them. The Reformed orthodox used the terms expiation/impetration and application to teach the same categories. You may have also heard the terms historia salutis (history of redemption) and ordo/applicatio salutis (order/application of salvation), also rough equivalents.

Decretive Will and Preceptive Will

Muller’s quote helpfully uses the Reformed distinction between God’s decretive will and God’s preceptive will. The debated issue in the 17th century centered around the ultimate cause of redemption applied—the individual’s free choice and God’s foreknowledge of it that follows (Molinism/Arminianism) or God’s decretive will (Reformed). All parties affirmed that it is God’s preceptive will (God’s will that we do what he commands—Ps. 143:10) that all come to Christ, but not his effective, decretive will (Rom. 9:19; Eph 1:11) This distinction would have helped Wilson when interpreting biblical passages that talk about God’s desire for the “world” and “all” to be saved (Ezekiel 18:23; 1 Cor. 15:22; 2 Cor. 5:14, 19; 1 Tim. 2:4-6; 4:10; Titus 2:11; 2 Pet 2:1; 3:9; Heb 2:9; 1 John 2:2). These are not the only passages in Scripture that talk about God’s intentions, his character, his will, Christ’s accomplished work, or the application of redemption (just to name a few theological overlays).

How does all this inform Wilson and Gibson’s discussion? We can rule out a few points that may be worth discussing elsewhere, but less relevant here.

1) Toss aside universal salvation. No orthodox theologian in this discussion believes that all humanity is saved. The most surface skimming of biblical history sufficiently eliminates the universalist option.

2) For the orthodox theologians, the question did not center on whether Christ’s accomplished redemption was applied only to the elect, but how. Was it ultimately because God foreknew what they would do under specific circumstances and then place the elect in those circumstances so they would actualize their freedom by choosing him (Molinism/Arminianism, with historical variations)? Or was it ultimately God’s electing decree that causes the individual’s salvation?

3) The Reformed have typically affirmed the free offer of the gospel. The gospel offer goes out freely to the world, to all men, all nations, to potentially every individual. Jesus did not preach his message only to the elect, and neither do we.

So the historical debates focused not on redemption applied, but on Christ’s accomplished redemption and whether this accomplished redemption was for every individual, elect and non-elect, or for the elect only. Put this way, we can ask more pointed questions:

1) Did Christ accomplish redemption for the non-elect?

2) If so, what is the status of Christ’s accomplished redemption that is not applied to the non-elect? In other words, if that redemption is accomplished but not applied, what kind of redemption is it and what is it redeeming?

Regarding Christ’s accomplished work, it has always struck me as a strange line of thinking to phrase the extent of sin in “amount” language and to do the same with Christ’s propitiation. If, in the whole course of human history, there exists 65 billion sin units, and as a subset in the course of the elect’s human history there exists 7 billion sin units, did Christ’s work cover 7 billion sin units? 65 billion? Some other number? “Amount” language seems wholly unhelpful, though we clearly want to affirm the infinite value of Christ’s accomplished work.

Note also that in this discussion we have not yet raised concerns about what to say to the unbeliever in evangelism or preaching, but are establishing principles from which our evangelism, preaching, and conversations can then be shaped and applied.

Final Thoughts

The distinctions above will not answer Wilson’s question, because he is asking the wrong question. Better, he’s asking a question phrased in a vague, non-specific way that expects “limited/definite atonement” or “unlimited atonement” to be taught by a biblical writer, when the best of Reformed theology does not expect that specific language from any biblical writer in the way Wilson wants. What one sees as biblical support for limited atonement depends quite a bit on what one means by limited atonement, and how it is connected to other linked doctrines.

I want to highlight again Wilson’s admirable, shared goal to be biblical. But the application of that desire through a uni-propositional, tunnel-vision hermeneutic that does not take into account the history of redemption seems less admirable. The Westminster Confession offers a helpful starting point for theological method and what constitutes a biblically warranted conclusion:

The whole counsel of God concerning all things necessary for his own glory, man’s salvation, faith and life, is either expressly set down in Scripture, or by good and necessary consequence may be deduced from Scripture…

Unless we simply quote verses verbatim all day and stop there, we all phrase biblical truths in different ways. What makes all those different iterations “biblical” is whether they are taught from Scripture as a whole, from “the whole counsel of God.” Given Wilson’s concession that “unlimited atonement may not be taught in scripture either,” why all the effort exclusively poured into demonstrating how limited atonement is unbiblical? Surely Scripture says something about Christ’s death and who it involves, so why don’t we see a positive case put forth by Wilson?

At the risk of going down a rabbit trail, I’ll bring another 700+ page book to the discussion, Kingdom Through Covenant (KTC) by Gentry and Wellum. Stephen Wellum contributes a chapter in From Heaven He Came, and he also writes on the extent of the atonement starting on p. 670 of KTC. To Wellum’s credit, he speaks in terminology that reflects an understanding of the redemption accomplished/applied nuance regarding atonement language, referencing John Murray’s work on the topic in a footnote. Also to his credit, Wellum understands that this topic must be connected to an understanding of Christ’s priestly and mediatorial work, a point made by Carl Trueman in his historical chapter on John Owen and the covenant of redemption (pactum salutis). Wellum notes others in Reformed history who understood the intrinsic connection between Christ’s priestly office and the sufficiency/efficiency of his work—Owen, Turretin, Bavinck, and others.

But Wellum’s understanding of covenant stands in the way of his potential consistency on this topic. In his fervor for emphasizing the newness of the new covenant, Wellum argues not just for a new change in redemption accomplished with Christ’s coming, but a new change in how redemption is applied after Christ’s death and resurrection. In other words, he links the changes in covenant administration to changes in individual salvation. He does this as part of the book’s overall program to defend a “progressive covenantalism,” which for present purposes should be understood as a Baptist covenantalism. Jonathan Brack and I address this in an upcoming article for the Westminster Theological Journal. One question to ask Wellum is whether Christ was the mediator for the Old Testament covenants, or if Noah, Abraham, Moses, and others were exclusively and non-typologically the mediators for the salvation of Old Testament saints. In other words, did Christ not die for Old Testament saints? A consistent, worked-out OT soteriology seems to be missing in KTC. Implications will follow for new covenant soteriology and the extent of Christ’s accomplished work.

I bring this up only to demonstrate that one’s understanding of covenant also matters for this discussion. The topic functions systemically throughout theology and, as I hope to argue in my ThM thesis, one’s understanding of the covenant of redemption shapes every facet and topic within theology.

At some point I’d like to pick up two other doctrines relevant to this discussion that have recently surfaced. First, on the Unbelievable podcast (I’m sensing a UK theme in this post), Paul Helm and William Lane Craig discussed the differences between “Calvinism” and Molinism. Second, Derek Rishmawy wrote a thought-provoking piece that defended impassibility, a defense much-needed today. It brought up some thoughts on method within theology proper that I’d like to devote some time and thought to.

One of the benefits of using the content-collector Evernote is a Chrome extension that grabs whatever article I’m reading and puts it into Notebooks (categories) I’ve created, in about two clicks. Since I scan an ocean of reading material every day, this comes in quite handy when I see a good article that may not be relevant at the time but I still want to archive it. The extension kind of lets you be an uncluttered digital hoarder, minus the cats.

As I’ve started archiving articles and getting a sense of the conservative evangelical tone, I’ve noticed that the undeniably overwhelming majority of written pieces or links fall under the general category of Practical Theology, as opposed to categories like Biblical Studies, Systematic Theology, Church History, or Apologetics. So that we’re clear on what I’ve noticed, my observation is not the presence of posts regarding Practical Theology, but the proportion of posts under Practical Theology in comparison to other fields and topics. I should also note that there are some fantastic blogs with a great topical variety, but I’m merely pointing out a general trend that applies in varying degrees from site to site.

If you’ll excuse a prelude, I want to express how helpful I found this post by Ray Ortlund on “Accusations of Legalism,” specifically the observation that “legalism is an easy accusation to make, and a difficult one to prove.” If legalism is as much of a problem as it is frequent in my twitter and RSS feed, the church has quite a heretical mess on its hands. (N.B. Legalism is a system of thought foreign to Christianity; legalistic thinking can be a dangerous but correctable slip by a genuine believer. Knowing this difference in ministry, and precisely articulating it, is beyond crucial.)

If blogs and tweets focus mostly on practically-based matters, then most posted content is ethics-based. And if most of the content we read is ethics-based, then most of what we read involves morals, rules, and what we should and shouldn’t do. And if that’s the case, the impression that might be created is that the Christian life centers around what we do or don’t do. The indicative has become lost in a sea of imperatives.

Consider an alternative: what if there were more posts on who God is, who Christ is, on a detailed treatment of specific Scriptural passages, on interpretive principles, on a biblical theology of the soul, etc.? If the imperatives, which are necessary, flow from the indicative and are not the basis of the indicative, what difference would that make in the breadth of content we produce?

I understand the well-intentioned desire to speak almost exclusively into ethical issues. For evangelism and pastoral ministry, ethics and practical living are the issues on people’s minds: “How should we then live?” But day-to-day living in any capacity, whether it be in the workplace, within the family, at school, in your neighborhood, needs to be set into the proper context of what is; the reality of who God is, what he has done, and what he is doing. If communicating the deep realities of theology, church history, biblical studies, etc. is a rare occasion, the choices we make regarding proportionality of topics may contribute to a perception of an ethics-based version of Christianity.

In the discussions surrounding same-sex marriage, it has struck me how difficult it is to get a handle on what secular culture “believes.” Like any large group, beliefs within a group are anything but monolithic. There are inconsistencies in beliefs among members of the same set. Below are a few of the beliefs one cannot consistently hold in addition to believing in the legitimacy of same-sex marriage.

If one believes in the legitimacy of same-sex marriage:

• One cannot consistently believe in the illegitimacy of heterosexual marriage.
• One cannot consistently believe that marriage is simply “a legal piece of paper” with no further significance.
• One cannot consistently believe that someone’s sexual orientation does not matter. In this debate, it undeniably matters.
• One cannot consistently believe that someone’s sexual orientation is only a private matter. Part of what is being advocated by same-sex marriage supporters involves a public display of one’s orientation.
• One cannot consistently be against “tradition” in every case. There is no empirical, perceivable difference between a same-sex couple living together and a same-sex couple who are married and living together. There must be some acknowledged meaning behind the traditional ceremony, vows, etc.
• One cannot consistently deny legitimacy, on the same grounds, to multiple-partner marriage. If loving feelings toward someone is both the necessary and sufficient condition for marriage, nothing inherent in the definition prohibits the possibility that loving feelings can be directed toward more than one person.
• One cannot consistently deny that divorce is more significant than a non-marital breakup. If the institution of marriage is more meaningful than mere dating or co-habitation, the severing of that institution must have significance beyond mere legal implications.

Though the current debate keeps getting framed in terms of “rights,” the underlying beliefs regarding the integrity of marriage as an institution (on both sides) reveal some tangled assumptions.

In my experience of discussions related to the different facets of salvation, the conversation can quickly or immediately turn to which salvific facet is the greatest motivator for the Christian life. For example, when facing temptation does my adoption take the lead as an organizing reality that drives me to fight against sin as an adopted child of God? Does my justification and the reality that I am no longer shackled with condemning guilt spur me to conquer sin and to face a fallen world today?

While those kinds of questions are vitally important for pastoral counsel and the Christian walk, they are not addressing the same topic that was mentioned in the previous two posts. There is a difference between a believer’s salvific reality in the transition from wrath to grace and the motivation of individuals in their Christian walk. So we can ask the question this way: Based on 1) the salvific reality of union with Christ as most foundational and 2) the benefits of salvation that flow from that union, how does that salvific structure permeate my life? I’ll briefly highlight just a few implications.

1) A person-centered understanding of salvation rather than a benefit-centered understanding puts proper focus on the ongoing relationship with Christ as our covenant Mediator, both at the time of transition from wrath to grace and no less powerfully at every subsequent point in our lives.

2) Grounding our salvific benefits in union with Christ helps us work out our salvation (Phil 2:12) in a way that focuses properly on the Benefactor, not our benefits in themselves. Our justification, sanctification, and adoption are only as sweet as the Person who earned them for us.

3) Union with Christ should naturally point us both to redemption applied to us and, more basically, to the redemption that Christ accomplished for us. That redemption was accomplished not only on the cross but through Christ’s life, death, burial, resurrection, and ascension. This helps us broaden our understanding of redemption and points us back to the Person who accomplished all aspects of redemption.

4) Being “in Christ” is necessarily linked to the covenantal aspect of salvation. Union with Christ is the most fundamental reality of being in God’s covenant, while being “in Adam” is the most fundamental reality of being outside God’s covenant (Rom 5:17). Adam’s sin was a covenantal breech that simultaneously caused 1) guilt, 2) corruption, and 3) alienation for everyone under the curse. Christ’s redemptive accomplishment was a covenantal fulfillment that simultaneously applies 1) justification, 2) sanctification (definitive and progressive), and 3) adoption for everyone under God’s grace.

5) Our union with Christ is a communal, churchly union. The church is not primarily a set of individuals who have been saved. The church is that, but is more primarily a people God is gathering together in his Son to the end of the age and beyond.

6) Christ’s pattern – suffering unto glory (Heb 2:9-10), death to life – is likewise our pattern as members of his body (1 Cor. 12:12f). In union with Christ be both died with him and resurrected in him (Rom 6:5f). We are, for example, justified by his blood (Rom 5:9) and his resurrection (Rom 4:25).

7) Finally, “if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation” (2 Cor 5:17). Union with Christ is an eschatological reality for the believer. As Christ has conquered death and ushered in the age to come (in the midst of the not yet), in Christ as the firstfruits we are the harvest he is gathering.

While these descriptions do not even scratch the surface of our salvific reality, can you see why this picture can be more helpful than, for example, simply “remembering” an aspect of our conversion? When we wake in the morning to face the day – the hardships, the blessings, the mundane, etc. of being in this world – a robust understanding of our salvation should be in the mind of God’s people, equipping them to work out all aspects of their salvation. While discussions surrounding union with Christ can sometimes get technical and abstract, it is my hope that church leaders far more capable than myself will continue to work on both the theological details and how those details shape our daily Christian lives before God.

What was the point of the post? Two points: first, understanding union with Christ as the most basic category for salvation has just about as much precedent during the 16^th and 17^th century as one could hope for. This was not an understanding of salvation by a few fringe theologians, but the mainstream understanding at the time of Calvin and his contemporaries through the era of the English Puritans and the Westminster Confession. When Reformed trajectories were being established, the bulk of Reformed thinkers understood Scripture to teach that our union with Christ grounded the benefits of salvation.

Second, it’s important to know what a list of quotations does accomplish and does not accomplish. Though historical quote piles can sometimes seem intimidating and/or appear to settle a theological discussion, the most a quote list can do is establish weighty precedent for a position. That precedent can often be extremely important in a discussion, but it is not the same thing as establishing whether a theological belief is, in fact, true. Historical precedent from Reformed thinkers is often related to whether a theological belief is true, but it is not identical to a theological truth claim.

Demonstrating the truth of a theological belief involves exegetical support, biblical-theological work, and systematic-theological integration, in addition to historical precedent for the position. Any of these methods used in isolation from the others will leave gaps in the integrity of the theological truth for which one argues. Exegesis in total isolation from systematic, biblical-theological, and historical concerns leaves an interpreter vulnerable to repeating the mistakes of those who have dealt with the same material in the past (historical theology), and it unnaturally divorces a text from where it stands within the history of special revelation (biblical theology) and the whole of biblical teaching on the topic (systematic theology). To argue a theological point accurately and effectively, all these elements should organically be involved.

Though I am personally thrilled to see recent publications fill a gap and address the Reformed historical precedent for understanding union with Christ as most basic to our salvation, these crucial historical works must be understood within the broader thrust of works that argue for the same position exegetically, biblical-theologically, and systematically. Much work has been done on these topics (here, here, and here [with a republication from P&R coming soon]), but more work remains.

What does all this talk of “union” matter for our daily walk? We’ll look at that question in the next post.

Two notable works have come out fairly recently: A Puritan Theology edited by Joel Beeke and Mark Jones (see sample chapter on union with Christ, justification, and regeneration here), and Calvin and the Reformed Tradition by Richard Muller. Part of what makes these works notable are the conclusions found in both works regarding union with Christ for salvation. In this first post, I’ll simply offer the spadework of quotations from each of these books. (The italics within each quote is my emphasis.) In a second post, I hope to answer how these historical examples, summaries, and conclusions function. In a third and final post, I comment on why this topic matters for your Christian walk.

A Puritan Theology:

• “In the judgment of several significant Puritan theologians, union with Christ, not justification by faith, is the chief blessing a Christian receives from God. The believer’s union with Christ enables him to receive all the benefits of Christ’s work, including justification, adoption, and sanctification.” (487)
• “Owen claims that union with Christ is the cause of all other graces a believer receives: ‘Hence is our adoption, our justification, our sanctification…our perseverance, our resurrection, our glory.’ Therefore, union with Christ is the ground of the imputation of Christ’s righteousness to believers. Owen’s lengthy work on justification (volume 5) confirms the logical priority of union with Christ before other graces such as justification.” (489)
• “Ball affirms that faith is the ‘band whereby we are united unto Christ; after Union followeth Communion with him; Justification, Adoption, Sanctification be the benefits and fruits of Communion.’” (490)
• “John Preston (1587–1628) likewise affirms that ‘to be in Christ is the ground of all salvation.’” (490)
• Thomas Cole (1627–1697) “has carefully noted how all these benefits come from Christ, and therefore regeneration must be seen in the light of our union with Christ.” (491)
• “William Bridge (1600–1671) said that ‘union is the root of communion’ and ‘union is the ground of communion.’ In context, Bridge is explaining the benefits of our union with Christ.” (491)
• “Obadiah Grew (1607–1689) said, ‘Union is the ground of all our comfort, and privilege we have by the Lord Jesus Christ: Our communion springs from our Union with him.’” (491)

Calvin and the Reformed Tradition

• “Calvin was hardly an isolated figure in the early development of Reformed thought on union with Christ and that the Reformation-era connection of the doctrine of union with Christ with the earliest forms of what has come to be called the ordo salutis was an exegetical conclusion that did not disappear from Reformed approaches to the application of salvation in the era of orthodoxy, only to be replaced by a rigid chronological ordering of the stages of redemption, but was in fact incorporated carefully into Reformed orthodox language of the application of salvation.” (204)
• For Beza, “both justification and sanctification follow on union with Christ” and “both justification and sanctification arise from union with Christ” (224)
• For David Pareus, “Union with Christ and ultimate conformity with Christ, therefore, are the theme of the chapter and the sequence of the application of salvation rests on it” (227)
• For Daniel Featley, “Ingrafting into Christ, then, sums up the entire initial argument of the epistle [of Romans] and appears as the foundation of the order or application of salvation.” (228)
• “The works of theologians like William Perkins, Amandus Polanus, and William Ames in the era of early orthodoxy evidence a continuing emphasis on the doctrine of union with Christ and on an understanding of the union as foundational to the work of salvation in believers.” (229)
• “Ames understands union with Christ as the proximate ground or cause of the work of salvation.” (234)
• “The union, however, precedes and stands as the foundation of the other aspects or parts of the of the application of Christ. Indeed, all that follows—in Ames’ series, justification, adoption, sanctification, and glorification—are understood as ‘blessings flowing from union with Christ.’” (235)
• “Of the full series of theological loci written in the seventeenth century, several follow out the argument found in Ames’ Medulla in grounding the entire sequence of salvation in union with Christ.” Downame, Ainsworth, Edward Leigh, Edward Polhill. (236-37)
• “Thomas Goodwin firmly grounded his understanding of the application of salvation in union with Christ.” (238)
• “All acts of God’s justifying us depend upon union with Christ.” (238)
• “All of the formulations that we have examined identify union with Christ as the basis of the work of salvation.” (239)
• “Union with Christ was not understood as a final product of the ordo salutis dependent on completion of all steps in the series—rather it was understood and typically explicitly identified as the very basis of the sequence of the application of salvation.” (240)
• “In a large number of the later writers, union with Christ remained foundational to the entire sequence of the application of Christ’s work.” (243)

Dr. Vern Poythress speaks about his new book, Logic: A God-Centered Approach to the Foundation of Western Thought. Discussion centers around the relationship between God and logic, the relationship between logical form and its content, and a Christian approach to modal concepts like possibility and necessity. Dr. Poythress is Professor of New Testament Interpretation at Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia, PA.

You can find a free sample from his book, Logic, here. Other eBooks by Dr. Poythress are available at frame-poythress.org.

Participants: Jared Oliphint, Nathan Sasser, Vern Poythress

In a chapter titled, “Theonomy and Eschatology” from the book Theonomy: A Reformed Critique, Richard B. Gaffin, Jr. explains how a proper understanding of eschatology can help us in times of suffering:

7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. 8 We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; 9 persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; 10 always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. 11 For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. 12 So death is at work in us, but life in you. (2 Corinthians 4:7-12, ESV)

“This treasure in jars of clay” graphically captures the tension at the heart of this statement, and of the apostle’s overall understanding of the nature of Christian existence between the resurrection and return of Christ…

Paul intends to say, as long as believers are in “the mortal body,” “the life of Jesus” manifests itself as “the dying of Jesus”; the latter describes the existence mode of the former. Until the resurrection of the body at his return Christ’s resurrection-life finds expression in the church’s sufferings (and, as will become clear presently, nowhere else—so far as the existence and calling of the church are concerned); the locus of Christ’s ascension-power is the suffering church…

A key to the intended impact of verse 10 is to recognize that both “and”s (following “Christ” and “resurrection”) are not simply coordinating but explanatory; they do not merely connect, they explicate. In step-wise fashion Paul progressively traces a single, composite notion: Knowing the power of his resurrection is not something in addition to knowing Christ, nor is knowing the fellowship of his sufferings a further addition to both. Rather, the controlling consideration is union with Christ in his death and resurrection such that to “know”/experience Christ is to experience the power of his resurrection and that, in turn, is to experience the fellowship of his sufferings—a total reality that can then be summed up as conformity to Christ’s death.

By virtue of union with Christ, Paul is saying, the power of Christ’s resurrection is realized in the sufferings of the believer; sharing in Christ’s sufferings is the way the church manifests his resurrection-power. Again, as in II Corinthians 4:10-11, the locus of eschatological life is Christian suffering; the mark—the indelible, ineradicable impression—left on the existence of the church by the formative power of the resurrection is the cross. And, further, this is not some merely temporary state of affairs incidental to the circumstances of the church in the apostle’s own day but is for all—the whole church in whatever time and place—who aspire to the resurrection of the dead (v. 11)…

18 For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. 19 For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. 20 For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope 21 that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. 22 For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. 23 And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. (Romans 8:18-23, ESV)

Romans 8:18ff especially disclose the breadth of what ought to be our conception of Christian suffering. Suffering has to be seen in the context of the “frustration”/“futility” (mataiotes), the “bondage to decay” to which the entire creation has been subjected, not by the inherent nature of things but because of God’s curse on Adam’s sin (v. 20-21 are, in effect, a Pauline commentary on Gen. 3). Suffering is a function of the futility/decay principle pervasively at work in the creation since the fall; suffering is everything that pertains to creaturely experience of this death-principle…

This revelation/liberation of believers (note: along with and inseparable from the liberation of creation as a whole) is the future dimension of their adoption and will take place at the time of the redemption (=resurrection) of the body (v. 23), not before. Until then, at Christ’s return, the suffering/futility/decay principle in creation remains in force, undiminished (but sure to be overcome); it is an enervating factor that cuts across the church’s existence, including its mission, in its entirety. The notion that this frustration factor will be demonstrably reduced, and the church’s suffering service noticeably alleviated and even compensated, in a future era before Christ’s return is not merely foreign to this passage; it trivializes as well as blurs both the present suffering and future hope/glory in view. Until his return, the church remains one step behind its exalted Lord; his exaltation means its (privileged) humiliation, his return (and not before), its exaltation…

Gaffin explains, as Paul did, that our very existence in this unredeemed world, even and especially as believers, carries with it expectations of suffering, regardless of personal circumstance. Our experience is patterned after Christ’s experience: suffering unto glory. How relevant is this to the prosperity gospel, or any other false gospel that promises worldly comforts as reward for following Christ?

In discussions surrounding Old Testament ethics—Canaanite “genocide,” imprecatory Psalms, etc.—I have found Meredith Kline’s article “The Intrusion and the Decalogue” to be tremendously helpful. The problem of evil, and this ethical dilemma in particular, was perhaps the biggest stumbling block to me when I was an unbeliever in the church. It may not be helpful to everyone, but if it’s helpful to a few then I think it’s worth the time to highlight it.

The points at issue within Christian circles do not necessarily involve an express denial of God’s omnipotence, his omniscience, or his goodness. I might argue the case below very differently as an apologetic to an unbelieving audience. To those Christians who struggle with Old Testament ethics, the point of contention is often one of consistency—given that God calls murder evil, how can he then command his people to do what is evil? If moral laws reflect his character, what does it mean when those laws circumstantially change (and do they lose their status as laws)?

The whole article by Kline is well worth reading and presents a valuable biblical-theological complement to systematic approaches. I’ll offer some choice statements as a teaser and as Cliffs notes.

On eschatology:

• “Creation is not eschatological. But it does provide the pattern for eschatology.”
• “Eschatology antedates redemption.”
• Eschatological delay and common grace are coterminous.
• Eschatological consummation and common grace are mutually exclusive.
• There is an eschatological intrusion of the power, principles, and reality of the Consummation into the covenant of grace, both in the OT and the NT.
• The Consummation is the permanent core, manifested but veiled through earthly, temporary patterns.
• “Christ and his kingdom is still in the category of Intrusion rather than perfect Consummation, as is signalized by the fact that the New Testament age is still characterized by Common Grace, the epitome of the [eschatological] delay.”
• Some OT types find their antitype in the NT, others find their antitype in the not-yet world to come.

On typology:

• Typology is primarily eschatological and secondarily pedagogical.
• “There is a marked difference between the relevance of the Intrusion concept in the application of the first and second tables of the decalogue.”
• Under the theocratic intrusion in the OT and looking ahead to the Consummation, death is prescribed for violations of some moral laws, unlike in the non-theocratic NT.
• “The ordinary state had no more authority in the OT than in the NT period to enforce the first table.”
• “The laws of the second table are subject to change in their application because the relations they govern are subject to change.”
• “The unbeliever is the believer’s neighbor today; but the reprobate is not the neighbor of the redeemed hereafter for the reason that God will set a great gulf between them.”

On Imprecatory Psalms:

• Regarding imprecatory Psalms, the welfare of man is not the chief end of man; the prayer itself is altogether proper since it is divinely inspired.
• “During the historical process of differentiation which Common Grace makes possible, before the secret election of God is unmistakably manifested at the great white throne, the servants of Christ are bound by His charge to pray for the good of those who despitefully use and persecute them.”
• “What is required is that we cease stumbling over this as though it were a problem and recognize it as a feature of the divine administration of the Covenant of Grace in the Old Testament which displays the sovereign authority of the Covenant God.”

On the conquest of Canaan:

• “It will only be with the frank acknowledgment that the ordinary standards were suspended and the ethical principles of the last Judgment intruded that the divine promises and commands to Israel concerning Canaan and the Canaanites come into their own and the Conquest can be justified and seen as it was in truth — not murder, but the hosts of the Almighty visiting upon the rebels against His righteous throne their just deserts — not robbery, but the meek inheriting the earth.”

On the command to sacrifice Isaac:

• “As God gave a special meaning to one of the trees of the garden, which it did not possess according to the ordinary constitution of things, making it the tree of forbidden fruit; as God gave a peculiar significance to certain meats in the ceremonial of the Old Testament, making them unclean; so now God effectively redefined the life of Isaac, making it the life to be sacrificed.
• God had not intended to interpret Isaac’s life as the life which must actually be sacrificed, but only to try Abraham, whether he would by faith recognize God’s right to do so.

On the command for Hosea to marry a prostitute:

• In this case there is intruded the principle operative when a Bride formed from a multitude of defiled sinners is received by Christ as His own.

In each of these cases, the abstract ethical principle revealed to us by God himself must not trump his revelatory, express command.

Finally, these issues should spur us to evangelize our present neighbor:

“The recognition that the hour cometh when it will be our duty to hate the unbeliever must not diminish and ought to intensify our efforts to show him the love of Christ in the hour that now is.”

While reading this new volume on hermeneutics, Biblical Hermeneutics: Five Views, I was struck by how many theological issues “in the news” these days are addressed by this short piece, either directly or by implication. The NT use of the OT is certainly a hot topic, particularly in light of Greg Beale’s works on the subject. (See here for audio of Beale’s, “A Thorn in the Side of Inerrancy?”, where Beale treats the same text that this hermeneutics volume treats, Matt 2:15 and Matthew’s use of Hosea 11.) The relationship between exegesis, biblical theology, and systematic theology seems to be a perennial issue. So I thought it might be helpful to run through Richard Gaffin’s entry “The Redemptive-Historical View” with the goals of 1) pointing readers in the direction of the book so you can further interact with Gaffin and others, and 2) to address through this volume a number of hermeneutical issues to which Gaffin brings unique clarity.

Gaffin’s hermeneutic is redemptive-historical, and as those familiar with his work will know, he builds upon the work of Geerhardus Vos. Gaffin outlines six basic elements of his approach:

1. Distinct from but always within the context of his self-revelation in creation and history (or “general revelation”), God’s special revelation has two basic modes: deed revelation and word revelation.
2. Redemption/revelation is historical.
3. Jesus Christ in his person and work, centered in his death and resurrection (e.g. 1 Cor 15:3-4), is the culmination of this history of redemption (revelation).
4. The subject matter of revelation is redemption.
5. Scripture is itself revelation, not somehow less than revelation.
6. To focus the preceding points hermeneutically: As revelation is the interpretation of redemption, so the interpretation of Scripture is always derivative, the interpretation of interpretation.

Having outlined these key hermeneutical features, Hebrews 1:1 serves to focus and exegetically support much of what is to follow:

God, having formerly spoken at many times and in various ways to our fathers by the prophets, has in these last days spoken to us through the Son.

This passage (Gaffin’s translation) explicitly supports point #2 above, as well as two additional observations:

“God’s Son is the consummate and integrating focus of this history….” and “…this Christ-centered history, complete and unified in its basic two-stage unfolding, is marked by diversity.” (p. 94-95)

Although Christ is the center of history and revelation indeed progresses toward Christ as its center, Gaffin wants to qualify what is meant by “progressive revelation”:

“Progressive” is not the most apt word here, particularly if taken in the sense of smoothly evolving advancement or steady and untroubled improvement…Yet “progressive” is properly retained in view of the inexorable forward movement of this history, in all of its twists and turns, toward its intended goal, Christ. (p. 91 fn11)

Gaffin goes on to make an important exegetical point with profound implications for our doctrine of inspiration. The author of Hebrews throughout his epistle attributes various Old Testament passages and events (words and deeds) to the Holy Spirit, implying both that the Holy Spirit is the one author of various Scriptural books and that the Holy Spirit is the primary author. That the Holy Spirit is primary author can be demonstrated in a couple of ways. First, the author of Hebrews quotes from a number of human authors across multiple biblical books from the Law, Prophets and other writings (Exodus/Leviticus, Jeremiah, Psalms). Second, the author of Hebrews quotes Psalm 95 twice, in Heb 3:7 and in Heb 4:7. Heb 3:7 indicates the Psalm is what “the Holy Spirit says” and in Heb 4:7 God is the implied subject, speaking “through David.” (p. 96) So the orthodox understanding of inspiration is on sure exegetical footing, and the hermeneutical implications that follow will focus on affirming Scripture’s diversity (human authors) and more primary unity (one divine Author) throughout.

Gaffin rounds off two final observations of the redemptive-historical hermeneutic:

First, a primary concern of this method is fidelity to the fundamental hermeneutical proposition given with the Reformation’s sola Scriptura, the well-known “Scripture interprets Scripture”…Second, redemptive-historical interpretation is marked by a sense of continuity between the interpreter today and the New Testament writers. (p. 97)

After describing the forest, Gaffin turns to the trees, specifically how to apply this redemptive-historical hermeneutic to a legendary difficult passage, Matthew 2:15 and its use of Hosea 11:1, “Out of Egypt I called my son.” In order to hone in on this specific passage, however, we need to zoom out again and see a bit more of the forest. There are two basic aspects of the use of the OT in the NT:

(1) the specific and varied ways in which the New Testament quotes, appeals to and otherwise utilizes the Old, and (2) general statements about the Old, whether in whole or in part. (p. 98)

In addition, “hermeneutical priority belongs to New Testament statements, especially overall generalizations, about the Old…Two such general statements, particularly instructive, are Luke 24:44-47 and 1 Peter 1:10-12.” (p. 98-99) After making some specific observations regarding both of these passages, Gaffin summarizes and clarifies the OT/NT issue well:

In any event, multivalent, even contradictory, trajectories will appear to be the case when the Old Testament documents are read “on their own terms” in the sense of bracketing out fulfillment in Christ and the interpretive bearing of the New Testament. For new-covenant readers, submissive to both the Old and New Testaments as the Word of God, such a disjunctive reading of the Old Testament is illegitimate, as redemptive-historically (and canonically) anachronistic. To seek to interpret the various Old Testament documents for themselves and apart from the vantage point of the New exposes one ultimately to misinterpreting them. The Old Testament is to be read in the light of the New not only because Jesus and the New Testament writers read it this way, but also because Jesus and the New Testament writers are clear about the continuity in intention and meaning that exists between themselves and the various Old Testament authors and what those authors wrote in their own time and place.” (p. 101, my italics)

As the article turns specifically to Matt. 2:15, Calvin’s interpretation is particularly useful in both his conclusions and because of his historical context. Calvin, notably in a pre-modern, pre-Enlightenment setting, understands the hermeneutical difficulty in this passage just as much as current interpreters but also interprets Matthew’s understanding of Hosea as typological. Calvin rules out as an option the conclusion that Matthew is simply taking Hosea out of context to fit his own purposes.

Gaffin helpfully pinpoints the Matthew/Hosea question in the terminology of continuity and discontinuity. In what way can we say that Matthew’s interpretation of Hosea is continuous with Hosea’s own intent of meaning? Is there discontinuity between the two? So, Gaffin:

A typological reading of the Old Testament, like Matthew’s, is only as sound as it is continuous and concordant with the sense intended by the human author…A method that ignores or is at odds with the meaning intended by the human author, regardless of accepted Second Temple hermeneutical conventions, has to be judged invalid. (p. 104, and fn44)

Gaffin gives three reasons why the above is the case.

First, as we have seen, 1 Peter 1:10-11 says so…

Second, and with an importance I cannot begin to address adequately here, if there is not continuity or basic agreement in intention between God as the primary author and the human authors of the Old Testament in what they wrote, then the Bible, as a whole and in its parts, textually considered, is basically incoherent and any meaningful notion of its divine authorship excluded.

Third, and related to the preceding point, if this basic congruence is lacking, then it is also difficult to see how the unity of biblical religion – salvation by old-covenant faith in God’s promises in continuity with new-covenant faith based on their fulfillment in Christ – can be maintained – as Hebrews 11:1-12:2, for one, does. (p. 105)

If you’re wondering where the specific exegetical, biblical-theological details are, they follow the quote above. I leave them for you to read, as important as they are, so that we can concentrate on principles that will also apply to other texts. As you might be able to tell, the temptation is very strong to put this whole chapter into quotes and call it a day. Suffice it to say, Hosea wouldn’t raise an eyebrow at Matthew’s use of his words, and the Egypt-Israel typology present throughout Hosea demonstrates as much.

Finally, Gaffin offers a tremendously helpful summary statement:

One need not flatten out the differences between the Old and New Testaments nor lose sight of clearer and fuller understanding after the cross and resurrection in order to recognize in the text of Hosea an incipient and seminal grasp, however otherwise shadowy and inchoate, of the messianic plant whose eventual full flowering in Christ Matthew documents and explicates. (p. 108, my italics)

This is certainly a volume to be interacted with, and this chapter in particular deserves much attention. I’m often perplexed at what bloggers and theological commentators choose to highlight and discuss at the expense of other potential topics, but I hope that general pattern is broken, even temporarily, for the sake of interacting with this excellent and thought-provoking essay.

You can find the book here, along with a preview and sample pages.

One of the most perplexing brands of eschatology is “transformational” eschatology. A broad-brush way to describe this view is that the eschaton or last days will be triggered once Christians (under the sovereignty of God) have progressively transformed the earth into what it was meant to become. Part of the reasoning behind this stems from a definition of “redemption” that includes individual persons, yet also encompasses creation as a whole. After all, doesn’t Romans 8:19-23 indicate that creation itself waits to be “set free from its bondage to corruption” (v. 21)? Paul even contrasts “creation” and “us” in that passage, and uses language of redemption for both!¹ The million dollar question is how and when that redemption will happen and what parts of creation, if any, it will include.

The Reformed have affirmed an inaugurated eschatology where the last days are here already but not yet fully. Paul tells us that Christ is the “firstfruits” of those who, united to Christ in His resurrection, will eventually be resurrected as He is when the “not yet” becomes only the “already” (1 Cor 15:23). So Christ has paved the way and modeled already what it will eventually look like when we are fully and completely redeemed, given new bodies appropriate to the new heavens and new earth. Until then, our bodies decay and experience the effects of the present evil age and its curse.

But that’s us. What about the rest of creation? Is it being redeemed? Did Christ accomplish redemption for the rest of creation when he died and was raised?

For those who believe that all of creation is currently being “redeemed” in the eschatological sense, there’s a very simple test to see whether that is in fact the case. As a friend of mine puts it, you are tasked to find a single atom, molecule, object, anything that has the permanence of the everlasting, eternal new heavens and new earth. Such a thing would be indestructible, and would most likely exhibit characteristics that literally indicate an other-world. That would be quite a find.

Or take the language we sometimes find within evangelical circles of “redeeming the city”, for example. Is this appropriate language given what we know of the biblical use of redemption? That depends. People are redeemed by the Holy Spirit regenerating their hearts, having faith in Christ, repenting of their sins, and receiving Christ and his saving and renovating benefits from his accomplished work in history. Christ did not directly accomplish redemption for buildings, neighborhoods, cities, towns, or any other particular group or entity whatsoever. Christ’s benefits do not apply to a local diner or run-down gym. They do not apply to capitalism, to philosophy, to Wal-Mart, to the Icelandic courts of law, or any other non-human not made in the image of God.

There may be some warrant for a loose definition of redemption that is non-soteric and can be applied to non-individuals by proxy. First, God cursed the ground in Gen 3:16, 17, the result being toil and struggle in our work from that day forward. That curse, however, will not be redeemed until the last days, so there’s no indication that God, and especially not man, will do anything to redeem that curse before the second coming.

Second, imagine a local coffee shop run by a devout atheist openly hostile to Christ, Christianity and Christians. Offensive art and music are the norm and the clientele share the owner’s hostility toward the church. Now imagine that same owner’s heart transformed by the Spirit. He is starting to attend a good church, is convicted to host art and music that is not overtly offensive to the Christian faith, and shares his new faith regularly with the same clientele. In a very qualified, non-technical sense, a kind of redemption happened to that coffee shop where something that once was so hostile to Christ and the church is now not. I could be persuaded that this may be unwise and confusing language, but there may be times when “redemption” is used and is not intended as a transformational comment but rather non-salvific shorthand for a collective group.

Finally, there is a sense in which Scripture does seem to indicate there will be at least some continuity between this age and the final age to come, the least of which will be retaining who we are as unique individuals in the new earth. Christians will, as distinct persons separate from one another in essence, live together in the new heavens and earth. There does seem to be shadowy pointers indicating that, along with us, there will be other manifestations of concepts we experience here in this life, admittedly in an imperfect way. Although the book of Revelation is not meant to be a descriptive tourist map of the new heavens and earth, the book does include descriptions for a reason, pointing to real, albeit symbolic, things that occur and are present during the last days. There obviously seems to be beauty and radiance (Rev 21:11) and even music and song (Rev 5:9) as “the trump shall resound” (Rev 8:6). So while Bach and The Who may not be heard in the new heavens and earth, it’s likely that we will be singing something in praise and worship. Song will continue.

I haven’t wanted to go into millennial debates, but what is said above, I think, fits most properly within an amillennial, inaugurated eschatology. Thinkers much more capable than I have written reams on that topic, of which most readers here are likely familiar. In this modest post I hoped to communicate just a few preliminary ideas to think about regarding the concepts of redemption and culture.

[1] Paul is speaking in this passage about redemption administered in two different ways. God works through redemptive history with an end toward redeeming all of creation in the last days. He works uniquely in redeeming individual persons as His image, using the Holy Spirit and the Son in ways distinct from how the Persons are used to act within history on non-human creation.

Hart’s response to Jim Cassidy’s excellent post that addresses the consistency of Vos/Van Til/Kline has fueled some brief thoughts that I hope are helpful in clarifying some of the issues. Hart begins by stating,

I have puzzled often about the lack of support in Vossian circles for two-kingdom theology. Many Vossians I know — and I consider myself to be one — find the spirituality of the church agreeable but balk at 2k. Why 2k is distinguished from the spirituality of the church is anyone’s guess, or why Geerhardus Vos’ distinction between this age and the age to come do not put a kabosh on tranformationalism [sic] is another of those brain-teasers you see in the back pages of World magazine (NOT!).

If we rephrase what is said above, a few things become clear. First, Hart sees no inconsistency between 2K (in the line of himself, Van Drunen, etc.) and Vos. Second, Hart reveals that he has only two categories for “kingdom” thinking: 2K and transformationalism.

It should go without saying that parts of 2K are compatible with Vos and other parts are not, so a bit of nuance is called for when speaking on the matter of consistency/inconsistency. And what if 2K and transformationalism were absolutely not the only two choices in this matter? What if there was an option that didn’t hermetically seal off one kingdom from another, yet didn’t see Christian engagement outside the church as an automatic attempt at transforming culture?

Hart goes on:

Whether Jim believes 2kers disagree with this point is not entirely clear. But he should be aware of how important covenant theology is to both David VanDrunen (see his piece in the Strimple festschrift) and Mike Horton (see his dogmatics) at least in part because they studied with Kline. In other words, 2k is not opposed to Jim’s point about the covenantal context of creation. I suspect that most 2kers affirm it, especially of those who studied with Kline.

Instead of engaging Cassidy’s specific points, Hart opts to emphasize that 2K proponents do understand covenant theology in general (not as it particularly relates to Cassidy’s point) as important, listing a couple examples of their work for support of this point. He also notes that 2K proponents studied under Kline, so the reader is left to assume that studying under Kline means that Kline’s students both understand and apply his teaching correctly. However, that kind of argument doesn’t work on even a mere observational level. There are plenty of students who studied under Kline who see quite a few inconsistencies between Kline and 2K.

Finally, Hart says:

First, where does the Bible require believers when interacting in the public square to engage in apologetics? When Joseph, Daniel, Jesus, and Paul engaged pagan rulers, did they first explain the covenantal context of creation before carrying out orders or answering questions?

Second, the public square may presume a covenantal context, but do we need to go to first principles for everything we do with unbelievers in our neighborhoods and communities? Do we need to explain the covenant or creation before we explain to city council the need for a new stop light at a busy intersection? Do we need to appeal to the creator of the universe before opposing a pay raise for public school teachers? Do we even need to give a covenantal account of the universe before declaring war on Iraq?

The objection is that there is no Scriptural support that requires believers to engage the covenantal antithesis in actual conversation, interaction, and operation. Hart reads Cassidy as if he is claiming that the covenantal antithesis must be stated whenever a believer interacts outside the church context, but this confuses what Cassidy and others are saying. Cassidy’s (and other critics of 2k) point is to state what principles lie behind what may or may not be said in actual conversation. Nowhere does Cassidy (or Van Til) state that we must point out the epistemological principles to the unbeliever in every situation. So who is Hart objecting to in the above two paragraphs? Cassidy never claimed such requirements for believers, nor did he claim we need to explain first principles before doing mundane tasks like requesting a new stop light. No, the straw man Hart portrays exists elsewhere, not in Cassidy’s post. Hart assumes an application from his post that Cassidy does not himself state. The closest one could come to such a claim is in reading the following from his post:

There is no safe territory upon which the unbeliever can stand and do right by one kingdom, but not right by another. In every kingdom he is wrong. Even his own cultural endeavors testify against him. And if we, as Christians, do not (lovingly!) point that out to him, who will?

Cassidy is not, I believe, saying we need to point out the difference in every cultural engagement. What he sought to demonstrate were the principles behind these cultural engagements that will hopefully inform conversations with unbelievers, equipping us with an awareness of the reality of who the unbeliever is and how consistent/inconsistent he or she is with his or her simultaneous drive for autonomy and knowledge of the true God.

• Justin Taylor – Discussion of what Jesus may have looked like, relating to the discussion on RF with Andrew Moody.
• Link to Poythress’s JETS article, “Modern Spiritual Gifts as Analogous to Apostolic Gifts: Affirming Extraordinary Gifts of the Spirit within Cessationist Theology.” Taylor’s headline for this is “The Best Essay Ever Written on Spiritual Gifts Today”
• 1517 – Interview with Trip Lee about his new album (from late June)
• Kevin DeYoung – JI Packer on why we need inerrancy, coming off of a post that addresses Kent Sparks’ rant on Biologos against inerrancy.
• Al Mohler reflects on lessons learned after he turned off the mic to his radio broadcast.
• Choosing Hats post includes a video of James White and a discussion of Arminian theology and apologetics.
• Frame-Poythress – Link to Poythress’s paper he did for the Business Ethics conference.
• Monergism – 54 lectures from Greg Bahnsen posted, $54
• Josh Harris – Our prayers are with Josh Harris and his family as they mourn the death of his mother.
• Stafford Carson linked to a recent post by Westminster’s own David Garner reflecting on our digital age.
• Anthony Bradley (who has his own blog at bradley.chattablogs.com) comments in World Magazine about whether it’s fair to automatically assume a school is racist if they have little or no minority professors.
• The OPC General Assembly is currently meeting. Also to note of the OPC, the Presbyterian publication “The Guardian” is now available online, dating back to the first 1935 volume.
• Thabiti Anyibwale links to Harry Reeder video on thinking theologically.
• Anthony Bradley on Glenn Beck discussing Black Liberation theology