When it comes to non-believers would it make sense to say that their undoing is ultimately idolatry?

What are some of the more common and perhaps more unusual idols that we have as a result of our culture (Christian or American)?

I don’t know that I have answers for all of these things, but that’s never been what this here blog is about. Let’s talk about it.

Idolatry is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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Exodus 22:21 “You shall neither mistreat a stranger nor oppress him, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”

Leviticus 19:33-34 – “And if a stranger dwells with you in your land, you shall not mistreat him. The stranger who dwells among you shall be to you as one born among you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God.”

How’s that for some Old Testament righteous anger grace? According to Strong’s that word stranger can also be translated alien, sojourner, or stranger. Now of course it might be making a mistake to apply this to the current problems we’re having with immigration (illegal or otherwise). It might be falling into the same trap that I often accuse my brethren on the right of, when it comes to cherry picking verses and applying them to pet beliefs. But in this case I’m willing to take that risk. If cherry picking leads us to be better human beings and to loving those around us, it’s a good risk.

Christians living out the Gospel are strangers in a strange land. We are oppressed (to varying degrees) and should be more understanding of those who live in a more real sort of physical oppression. Yes, some of them are breaking the law, but even legal immigrants are oppressed by those of us who see only their skin color and hear only their accents.

Children that are born here are legal citizens and I think that’s the way it should be. If that means it brings people here to have their babies that should be a source of pride for us. Yes, it means we need to decide what to do with their parents. I’m not sure that chucking them back to their countries of origin is the answer. But this is really less about what the government should do and more about what we should be doing.

If we know of a stranger among us, how should we love them? What steps do we take? Take the legality of their presence off of the table for the moment. Remove even the question of immigrants and just think about the last person you looked at with an eyebrow lifted in judgment. Someone who didn’t dress like you or talk like you, what did you do to love them?

Strangers Among Us is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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Part of the doctrine that I believe in as a Christian is the notion of “total depravity”. That means, while we’re not as bad as we could be, every part of us is touched by sin, including our sense of right/wrong. So while there exists an absolute morality and God has laid it out, our understanding of it is tainted. That gets back to the question, why push away/give up the bad stuff? If it’s because it will make you somehow a better person/more holy not to consume South Park (and in some ways I could argue it would) then I think your motive is wrong. If, on the other hand, you’re watching it to be cool/relevant/to reach your unbelieving friends I think your motive is wrong too.

You have to look at how watching/listening to certain things affects you as a person. If watching violence makes me more violent or desensitizes me to violence I shouldn’t watch it. I like the verse from 1 Corinthains 13 – “When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things. ” Do the things you know are right (prayer, fellowship, reading the Bible) and as you mature spiritually you lose the taste for things that are childish (bad for you/immature/etc.). That’s a good description (I think) of what “sanctification” means. The process of becoming more holy.

I think a lot of people try and force it, rather than letting their lives bear that fruit naturally. I mean, honestly, when I tell someone, “Don’t watch SP, it’s bad for you!” as an adult what’s their reaction going to be? I think that the rules that are laid out in the Bible are good things and that people will benefit from following them, but you can’t strongarm people into them. It just won’t work. There is a place for you going to a fellow believer and challenging them on their behavior/consumption, but laying down the law to someone who doesn’t have the same spiritual maturity/development as you do without a spirit of love (also to be found in 1 Corinthians 13) is about as effective as Cartman the cop.

Respect My Authoritah! is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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So, I’m listening to NPR this weekend and something comes on the radio that almost made my head spin. Apparently, the church building/expansion business in Winston Salem is booming! Why would that make me angry? Or even just a bit miffed? Isn’t that a good thing?

I suppose it would be if I thought for a millisecond that every chair/pew/bench was full to bursting. I don’t. We don’t need more churches, particularly not brand new two million dollar buildings.

“But Scott,” I hear you say, “what are the options? If a church wants to plant a new congregation, they need somewhere to meet. And they need to look towards expanding the future. Maybe they want a school down the road, or a community center. And doesn’t building a church mean more jobs?”

Here’s the answer. For the last few years there has been a congregation meeting at our church at five o’clock on Sunday nights. It started as just an extension of our own congregation, an attempt to reach out to those that, for whatever reason, didn’t or couldn’t come on Sunday mornings. At some point, and it’s possible that this was the plan all along, they decided that it was time to move to a different part of town to continue meeting. They still wanted to continue meeting at night, but they wanted to separate off from out church and become a fully functioning body, on their own. This wasn’t a split, but rather a bit of mitosis (if I remember my cellular biology).

Now they’re meeting in a different church building. Here’s the mind blowing thing. The building they’re meeting in isn’t a Presbyterian church building. I’m not sure what the denomination is right off the top of my head, but that’s not the point. The point is, we have two congregations, working together as a body, meeting in the same building. My hope is that they’re sharing other resources, breaking bread together, you know, being a family.

It would be awesome if there weren’t denominations to get in the way of things. I suppose in a perfect world this sister church of ours could feel free to go to any other church in the county and seek a place to meet. Of course the argument could also be made that they could have decided to meet outside a “church building”. I’m sure that came up, but I know they don’t really have the funds to build one, and maybe they never will. Maybe when they outgrow their current situation, they’ll do what we did and use a former school space, or reclaim some other unused building.

Whatever they do, what they’re doing now is at least done in the spirit of working together. We need more of that. We don’t need to yell at each other, pointing accusatory fingers over doctrine. We don’t need to draw physical battle lines, decide on turf, and generally take the approach to land management that Wal-mart uses (come in, buy land, build a gaudy church, outgrow it, move on leaving a gaudy shell). We don’t need to create a cottage industry of businesses whose sole purpose it is to build these modern cathedrals to consumer driven divinity. We need to meet in houses or bars or old school buildings or libraries or (worst case scenario) in churches that have already been built. Maybe when we’re all out of other options we build something purpose built and make sure to put it to use every day of the week as something open to everyone in the community, not just members of that specific congregation.

*DEEP CLEANSING BREATH*

Okay, maybe I’m over-reacting. Maybe I’m guilty of finger pointing. This is a rant and I’m a bit out of practice around these parts. But I’ve gotten it off my chest and I’m going to hit “Publish” without batting an eye or proofreading a lick. Feel free to comment below. And here’s hoping it’s not another three months til my next post.

Living Together is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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The overwhelming answer I get is, no. So I went digging through the Bible to find out what it says. There are three passages I’ve found that seem to be talking about this very thing. Let’s take a look at them and see what they have to tell us.

Romans 5 and 6 have a lot to say on this matter. In the first couple of verses Paul writes, “1 What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? 2 By no means! We are those who have died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?” He goes on to say more about being dead to sin and slaves to obedience. This is certainly language that indicates a massive change. If there is a sin that we struggle with, we are to be dead to it. If we continue to engage in that sin (or perhaps sin in general?) then are we at that point no longer dead to it? Aren’t we still enslaved by it? More on that in a bit.

The next passage I found is 1 John 3:7-10. This one is even more hard core in its language.

7 Dear children, do not let anyone lead you astray. The one who does what is right is righteous, just as he is righteous. 8 The one who does what is sinful is of the devil, because the devil has been sinning from the beginning. The reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the devil’s work. 9 No one who is born of God will continue to sin, because God’s seed remains in them; they cannot go on sinning, because they have been born of God. 10 This is how we know who the children of God are and who the children of the devil are: Anyone who does not do what is right is not God’s child, nor is anyone who does not love their brother and sister.

If we as God’s children have been “born of God” the we won’t continue to sin. If we do continue to sin that would seem to be evidence that we’re not born of God. We are still children of the devil. Okay, one more. This one from 2 Corinthians 10, “5 We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” Every thought is taken captive to make it obedient to Christ. Not most thoughts, every thought.

So here’s the thing, I know, and I think you do too, that this bar is set impossibly high. You can’t take every thought captive. You will continue to sin so long as you live. Maybe the sins will become less frequent to the point where we stop noticing them. That doesn’t mean they’re not there. The good news is that grace is there and I agree with Paul, we shouldn’t sin “more” or “bigger” so that the grace we receive is legendary. So there’s an element of improvement in the life of faith. Here’s my question though, is that our goal?

I look at sanctification as more of a “side effect” of our growth as believers. We are to live our lives as Christ lived his. We are to love people, teach them about the good news, to speak the truth and healing into lives. In the process we will grow. We will begin to understand the depths of our sin and the amount of grace we have received. We will, as my wife has said, become characterized by the fruits of the spirit and not by our sins. That doesn’t mean we’ll stop sinning or that we’ll become aware of every sin in our life and immediately (or even in the long term) repent and drop it in a grave with the old man.

That’s my take anyway. For those of you that believe that if you “continue in sin” and can either loose your salvation or were never a Christian to begin with, I’d like to know how your sins stack up now verses a year ago and what measure you’re using. I’d like to know what men like Peter are to do. You know, he denied Christ three times and went on to be reprimanded by Paul for getting the gospel wrong. I’d like to know what happen to men like Paul who have a thorn in their flesh that continues to dig and dig and dig no matter how much they repent and pray and fast and beg for it to be removed.

Sin, Continued is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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Friend and long time commenter Shawn Murphy aka Sidfaiwu answered that with a comment of his own.  He said, “What’s it about then? It often seems to be all about personal salvation.”  And he has a point.  Christians talk a lot about having a “personal relationship with Christ” and while Jesus may or may not be your homeboy, he is certainly described as your brother.  The question is, does it stop there? Is the whole point of Christ’s sacrifice to give you a relationship with him or to give you a ticket to Heaven?  Is that even the main event?

I think the answers are “No.”, “No.”, and “Maybe, maybe not.”

There are a number of things that Christ’s sacrifice are supposed to achieve.  Big picture things like the redemption of the whole of Creation would seem to dwarf concerns about an individual.  Now I don’t want to downplay that individual’s salvation.  I think that would be an easy over-reaction.  But once you’re saved, then what?  You still have a part to play.  You have responsibilities.  You are called to be good, righteous, and holy.  I hear that a lot from a lot of brothers and sisters.  The question then becomes, why?  Why do we do these good works?  What purpose do they serve?

Based on what I’m told in answer to this question, it seems that they’re  proof that your saved  and/or a good witness to others so that they can be saved (“He’s just so good and so righteous, I’ve gotta get me some of what he’s having.”).  So be saved so that you can do good works so that others know you’re saved so they can be saved (seems a bit circular to me, though not untrue).  I think that’s thinking too small though.  Don’t get me wrong.  I think the acts of love and kindness that are expected of the new creations of God certainly do those things.  They are a sign of your newness.  They do serve to inspire other people.  I just think it goes beyond that.

God will use you and your good works in the redemption of the world.  That’s a clear message in the Bible.  When most people think of that redemption though, it’s a sort of hazy future.  The works that we do, the ones incidentally that the Bible says we’re made for, will be refined and outlive this temporary body.  Wright believes, tough he admits to not knowing the details that these good works will continue to resonate in the new Earth.  It’s all part of God’s ultimate plan, though perhaps a part that’s not widely understood.  I think that’s perfectly valid.  Again though, there’s more to it.  Good works as a result of our salvation are also important in the here and now.

We have a hope that this body of believers, this holy temple, will bring justice and peace to the world.  The phrase “social justice” has gotten a fair  amount of play in certain circles lately.  To some people it sounds an awful lot like socialism.  It makes other folks uncomfortable because there’s a historical branch of liberal Christianity who played fast and loose with theology in an effort to make the social justice part of the faith of greater importance than the supernatural parts.  So I get the cringe that I felt run through some of you when you read the first sentence in this paragraph.

Still,  I believe that as a family we need to bring as much focus and attention on this part of what the gospel teaches as we do on our personal salvation.  While there are certainly excellent examples of where this has happened, I think there are also some excellent examples of where it hasn’t.  There is evidently plenty of opportunity for us as a body to improve.  Wouldn’t it be wonderful if people not only heard but saw this in action as much as they hear and see us talk about being free from the worry of hellfire?  Personally, I think it would go a long way in making us look and sound more like the Jesus of the Gospels.

A Ticket to Ride is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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The teaching of 1 Corinthians 11

Time and again I have found the teaching of 1 Corinthians 11 to be central to this discussion. This is indeed the exegetical firewall in existence that keeps individuals within the Reformed tradition from embracing paedocommunion, and in my judgment their particular perspective on 1 Corinthians 11 provides the only plausible exegetical argument against the practice. Were children participants at Passover? Without trouble, my Old Testament professor at RTS conceded that all the evidence points to the inclusion of even young children in the celebration of Old Testament sacrificial meals. Louis Berkhof’s passing assessment that children “were allowed to eat of the Passover in the days of the Old testament” (Systematic Theology, p. 656) goes largely uncontested within the Reformed community. Yet, in spite of these evidences, the working assumption is that 1 Corinthians 11 is the exegetical argument against the continuity between the covenant meals and the  inclusion of children in the New Covenant meal.

The traditional Reformed interpretation of 1 Corinthians 11 argues that by direct implication the apostle’s words bar young children from the table, due to their inability to “examine themselves,” “discern the body” and “proclaim the Lord’s death.” I have become convinced, however, that this chunk of Paul’s writing simply does not sustain the weight placed on it in seeking to refute the paedocommunionist argument. My reasoning is four-fold:

1. I do not believe it is the apostle’s intention to lay out terms of admission to the Table, but to deal with the behavior of those who have already been admitted to the Table. While the traditional understanding is that when Paul speaks of the necessity of self-examination he intends to exclude from the Table those who do not possess a substantial level of mental or spiritual maturity, this understanding fails to see that this call for self-examination is issued explicitly to those guilty of openly schismatic behavior in general and at the Table in particular. (His concern is that “there are divisions among you” – v. 18.) This sin had reached scandalous proportions, which is made obvious by Paul’s opening words: “when you come together it is not for the better but for the worse” (v. 17). It is, then, in the context of this behavior, and specifically with the guilty perpetrators in mind that Paul says “let a person examine himself.” My conclusion is that he is thereby calling his readers to stop and consider whether they themselves are guilty of the kind of sin which he has named before coming again to the Table, and to repent of it, or else they will profane the Table further. With this in mind, it is clear that the very youngest members of the congregation are not even in view in Paul’s exhortation. (See 1 Thess. 3:10 for another example of this limitation of scope.)

2. In a similar way, when Paul speaks of “discerning the Lord’s body,” rather than implicitly setting a minimum age of admission to the Table, I believe he is simply calling for a loving and considerate attitude towards others with whom one fellowships at the Table. The Corinthians had been guilty of a blatant disregard towards others in their celebration of the Lord’s Supper, and here the apostle calls this sin a failure to “discern the body”: i.e. a failure to consider one another in love as they partook together.  A growing number of commentators today see this reference not as the physical body of Christ, but as his body, the church. They note that Paul has already used this expression to the church in 10:17 where he states, “we who are many are one body.” For example, F.F. Bruce writes:

“To eat and drink ‘without discerning the body’ meant quite simply to take the bread and cup at the same time as they were treating their fellow-Christians uncharitably in thought and behavior.” (Apostle of the Heart Set Free, p. 285)

Even little children are capable of considering one another in love, and of avoiding uncharitable     behavior towards others. Of course, children at some point are also capable of eating and drinking     judgment to themselves: not, however, due to sheer immaturity of understanding, but due, again, to     patterns of sinful behavior which make a mockery of the Table.

3. I believe that withholding the Table from our children in order to spare them from “eating and drinking judgment to themselves” not only misunderstands Paul’s meaning in the text, but also fails to take into account the broader realities of the covenant membership of our children. The reality of covenant membership of our children means that, from infancy, every means of grace they are exposed to will result either in their spiritual blessing or condemnation. By their enjoyment of every privilege of the covenant – whether that of Baptism, the biblical instruction of parents, the fellowship of the saints, the participation in corporate worship, or the celebration of the Lord’s Supper – covenant children, like all members of the covenant, receive either covenant blessing or eventual covenant curse according to whether or not they respond to those privileges with faith. It is unwarranted because I do not believe it is the Session’s prerogative to attempt to spare members of the covenant from the judgment God has promised upon covenant unfaithfulness. It is futile because it fails to see the countless ways in which covenant children, like the covenant community in Jesus’ day, are rendered more accountable for their sins than the land of Sodom in the day of judgment, unless they repent. (see Matthew 11:20-24)

4. Finally, it is obvious that the great sin of the Corinthian church consisted in a disregard for each other that, in effect, led to excluding certain members of the church from partaking of the Table: that is, those who had nothing to eat. It’s rather ironic, then, that the Church has appealed to this text in support of the common practice today of excluding certain members  of the church from the Table.

Conclusion:

I am optimistic about the future of paedocommunion within the Reformed community, yet I also remain content to submit to the authority of a non-paedocommunion church that is cordial towards the open discussion of this, and frankly all, theological quandaries. I am optimistic because even among those who do not call themselves paedocommunionists, there is an increasing willingness to lower the requisite age of a child’s profession of faith and admission to the Table from what it has traditionally been. I am content, however, because I do not regard this issue as one worthy of starting a fight over. I strive to be committed to pursuing the peace of the Church, with the hopes that the traditional practice will one day be amended as part of the ongoing Reformation of the Church.

Communion for Kids – Part 3 is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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Observations regarding the historical record of the practice

I have not performed an exhaustive study of the historical record of the practice of paedocommunion. There is an excellent summary of historical material on the topic available for review at http://www.reformed.org/sacramentology/tl_paedo.html . However, I have several opinions that have taken shape in my mind about what has contributed to this consensus against paedocommunion:

1. The Reformers were typically confronted with these arguments, not by fellow paedobaptists who sought to be consistent in their covenant theology, but rather by Anabaptist detractors who primarily sought leverage against the doctrine of infant baptism. I fear this goes a long way towards explaining why they were so dismissive of points made, often failing to give what I regard to be any substantial rationale for the traditional practice.

2. Historically, the consideration of these points within the Reformed tradition has been partly obscured by the larger theological battles being waged over the Lord’s Supper. For instance, the question of the nature of Christ’s presence in the supper came to focus largely on the question of whether the unbeliever who received the elements also partook of the flesh and blood of Christ. Calvin and the Reformed tradition answered, “No, Christ is only received at the Table by faith,” while Luther and Rome answered, “Yes, otherwise there is no integrity to the sacrament.” It seems obvious, particularly from reading Calvin, that the language of 1 Corinthians 11 was repeatedly pressed into use for this particular debate as if these words were addressing that specific issue of unbelievers at the Table. Yet in my estimation, Paul nowhere suggests that the unworthy partaking of the Table is due to the unregenerate state of certain members of the Corinthian church. In fact, he presumes that even the worst offenders among them are regenerate people as he identifies the Lord’s judgment upon them as a means of preserving them from being condemned with the world. (v. 32)

3. One other incredible obstacle in Reformed church history to a paedocommunionist perspective, particularly among Presbyterians, has been the misplaced emphasis by many (most?) of the Puritans on a covenant child’s public profession of faith as a means of preserving experiential religion – and even the purity of the Church. I am of the opinion that in their zeal to combat nominalism in the Church and to hold out the necessity of “true conversion,” many of them found it hard to resist making admittance to the Table the primary means of ensuring a regenerate church membership. However, it is teaching, rather than the administration of the sacraments, that is the primary pastoral means of combating nominalism in the church. The administration of sacraments in the New Testament does not seem to be constrained by concerns to avoid nominalism, especially as I think of the near immediate access to the sacraments granted to those who simply professed faith.

In the next entry I hope to dive face-first into the primary concern for those following traditional reformed practice. Some of my biggest appreciation for the reformed tradition is found in the desire to interact with the text we claim as authoritative in a honest, open and consistent manner. The true benefit of this is frequently found in a willingness to discuss and genuinely explore, seeking continuation of the reformation.

Communion for Kids – Part 2 is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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The biggest difficulty I find in writing a piece like this is the same difficulty with any writing: consideration of the audience. This was initially written for a number of individuals already thinking and operating within Reformed practice, although, thankfully, labels have a hard time sticking with these folks. Its very likely that I am making some gigantic assumptions that need further unpacking – preference of a philosophical model, knowledge of assorted particulars within church history, understanding of covenant theology, familiarity with past and present church practice of reformed churches – but in spite of that, I’m willing to put this out if for nothing else than a catalyst for good conversation. I am very appreciative to Scott for providing the space for publication and the editorial advice – sage writing wisdom at it’s best.

I have come to embrace the position commonly known as paedocommunion. I accept this label, however, with some reservations about the term. I do not embrace such a doctrine of “infant communion”. I hold to what could be called “young child communion.” Notwithstanding, I am in agreement with all so-called paedocommunionists in humbly insisting that the Reformed churches have erred in delaying the admittance of covenant children to the Table until they “are of years and ability to examine themselves.” I am comfortable with the label and thereby identify myself as one member of a class, loosely defined, of “paedocommunionists.” In what follows, I hope to summarize what has persuaded me to embrace the position I was once content to oppose. I do not intend to provide a comprehensive defense of paedocommunion. There is already existing and thorough writing towards this end, particularly in the 1988 majority report of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church’s committee to study paedocommunion, primarily authored by G.I. Williamson, and more recently in Tim Gallant’s book “Feed My Lambs: Why the Lord’s Table Should Be Restored to Covenant Children” and “The Case for Covenant Communion,” edited by Gregg Strawbridge. Rather, I intend to briefly highlight a selection of points, seeking to demonstrate what has led me in particular to this perspective. We’ll chase these down under three headings: 1. The role of the sacraments in the life of the church, 2. The teaching of 1 Corinthians 11, and 3. Observations regarding the historical record.

The role of the sacraments in the life of the church

My orthodoxy has been preserved by one iteration or another of the Reformed faith. I will readily admit that it was God’s providence that preserved me, but the means by which he did has been through the many shapes, sizes and various streams within the Reformed pale. Through this, I have an ever-increasing appreciation for the Reformed view of the nature and function of the sacraments in the life of the Church. I simply affirm the description in the Westminster Confession of Faith, that the sacraments are:

“holy signs and seals of the covenant of grace, immediately instituted by God, to represent Christ and his benefits; and to confirm our interest in him: as also, to put a visible difference between those that belong unto the church and the rest of the world; and solemnly to engage them to the service of God in Christ, according to his Word” (WCF 27:1, emphasis added)

While I affirm this, I also have no problem asserting that it is a regrettable inconsistency in the Westminster Standards that the sacraments are together spoken of as marking out the visible church, yet the sacrament of the Lord’s Table is withheld from certain members of the visible church as “unworthy receivers” until they reach “years and ability to examine themselves” (Westminster Larger Catechism #177). The traditional perspective asserts that for those children their baptism alone is sufficient mark of membership, yet it seems to me that this statement of the Confession – that the sacraments considered together provide the mark of membership – finds plenty of proof in the obvious case of excommunicated persons. While I am not trying to say that we are treating our baptized children as apostate by denying them the supper, it is obvious that while excommunicated persons are still baptized persons, they are not counted as members of the church due to having been barred from the Table. Through this, I find it to be true that not only are both sacraments essential in defining the boundaries of the church, but that, if anything, the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper has the primary role in this identification.

The simple and straightforward argument made by paedocommunionists that the signs and seals of the covenant are to be received by the members of the covenant is an insurmountable one.

I do believe it is a misuse of the Lord’s Supper to impose it upon a passive recipient, whether it be an infant or an adult. While baptism is administered to those who are passive in order to represent God’s sovereign initiation and establishment of the covenant, the Lord’s Supper, as the sacrament of continuation with that covenant, is rightly administered only to those who are active in order to represent in part the response of God’s people to his covenant. However, I do not believe these differing designs of the sacraments can justify the traditional practice of withholding the sacrament of covenant response and communion from children until they are able to make an articulate profession of faith and undergo the ordeal of taking vows before a congregation.

In both the church and the home, we should rightly call for faithful covenant response from the children of the covenant from the very earliest days of their comprehension and self-initiative. We rightly teach them to pray even as they learn how to talk, we rightly encourage them to sing praises as soon as they can carry a tune (and sometimes even before), and we rightly teach them to actively participate in the worship of God from the very early days of their inclusion in it. Likewise, I believe we would be correct to allow them to take part in the Lord’s Table at as early a time as they actively can do so. While this certainly presumes some space of time between their passively receiving baptism and their actively partaking of the Lord’s Supper, it is far from the present practice of many of barring our children from the Table until many years after they have, in fact, expressed their covenant response to God’s love in a plethora of ways. As Passover was and the other elements of worship are, the Lord’s Supper should be a vehicle for their expression of love to Christ from the very beginning of their days of self-expression.

Communion for Kids? – Part One is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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I tweeted the other day asking how many of our questions were like that of the Pharisees. They often asked questions designed to misdirect or to draw someone into a theological minefield.

In order to avoid the pharisaical questions, but understanding the divisive nature of the gospel, a quandry develops. What sorts of questions rightly divide and what sort are simply encouraging pointless squabbles?

I ask this question because, well because in part asking questions is what this blog is largely about for me and i want to hit the former questions more regularly.

I’m also about to post a series of entries that make an argument for what some may consider an issue that rightly divides. It’s hardly a hot button and the guest author handles it well, but this seems a good time to ask.

Not Peace But a Sword is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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Early in my Christian life I was taught Dispensationalism. Perhaps that’s why, even as a Presbyterian now, I can see the point of it. It’s a relatively new way of looking at this topic, apparently originating with John Darby in the 1800s, but that by no means invalidates this school of thought. It does seem, at least on the surface, that God had a different deal with the Jews than he does with the Christians for instance. That’s just one example. According the the wikipedia entry there are anywhere from three dispensations to seven or eight.

Now, as a member of the Presbyterian church, I’m being taught Covenant Theology. This seems to me to make God at least a little more consistent through time. It says that God has made a covenant of works, redemption, and grace (covenant theologians don’t agree that all of these are included) and that these promises were established “in the beginning” and have been in force since. These covenants, so CT teaches, are fleshed out in the covenants God makes with the patriarchs. So the way he deals with them doesn’t change so much as they are codified or fleshed out.

So that’s an awful lot of promises. Here’s what I propose though, and this is likely not a new or staggering idea (and I could be wrong), and that is that there is only one requirement that God has of us. Faith. If we have faith in him then everything else falls into place.

God’s first recorded words to Adam were “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die.” Now that could be pointed out as the beginning of the covenant of works, though it’s more of a “don’t do” than a “do”. I’d say though that this was God’s way of saying “have faith in me and what I know to be best for you”. All Adam had to do, all any of us have to “do” really is to trust God. The rest will flow out of that.

We achieve righteousness through faith. We receive grace through faith. We are saved by that faith. So it could be argued I think that at the root of any “dispensation” or “covenant” God has used to interact with us is that faith in him and his plan for us is. If we have that faith, that trust then God will deal justly with us. That’s a promise.

Am I oversimplifying or missing anything?

Promises, Promises is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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I’ll weigh in after I get some comments.

Final Destination is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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Gal. 5:22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

The associate pastor that gave the sermon did some research and determined that the word “goodness” can also be translated as generosity or beneficial acts towards others. He went on to stress that we as a body should be focused on sacrificial giving towards others. That gift could be monetary or one of time or abilities that you use for their benefit. Whatever form it takes, he went on to say that it should be characterized by a passage from Hebrews chapter ten.

32 Remember those earlier days after you had received the light, when you stood your ground in a great contest in the face of suffering. 33 Sometimes you were publicly exposed to insult and persecution; at other times you stood side by side with those who were so treated. 34 You sympathized with those in prison and joyfully accepted the confiscation of your property, because you knew that you yourselves had better and lasting possessions.

This sermon was especially relevant in the face of a video I had just watched on Saturday. Zach Ricks, good friend, co-author, and editor of Flagship, gave a talk at a Tea Party rally recently and posted the Youtube video. The whole thing got mashed up in my brain and I need to get it out on “paper”. So watch these videos (they’re short) and think with me on this.

Now, Zach and I don’t agree on much politically. I suspect we also differ on a number of theological issues, though nothing either of us would consider critical. But, as he says in the video, we should be able to discuss that. I won’t pick apart everything I disagree with in the videos. That’s not the point of this post. The point isn’t even to pick apart the “on topic” things I disagree with. The point is, given the notion that at least a significant portion of Tea Party folks are Christian and that that’s part of their platform, I want to look at some of the claims that at least Zach makes and see if they line up with this notion of sacrificial generosity.

At about the six minute mark in video one he quotes Calvin Coolidge. “Our great hope lies in developing what is good.” and then he goes on to say, “America is good”. Now I’m not going to say that America is bad. We have many, many good qualities. The questions is, if we are good, what does that mean?

Zach says that there is no country that compares to us militarily, scientifically, culturally, or economically. I’m not sure what grounds he’s using to make those statements and they seem to be a little subjective and as such are arguable. In any case, does that make us good? He also says that we don’t conquer our neighbors. That may be true at present, but wasn’t true when we first came here. Again though, while that may be true, does that make us good?

Zach says that God “is the center of my life.” Laudable, commendable in a brother and I don’t doubt that he means it. He then goes on to say that without religion there can be no virtue. Here he is referencing Dr. Benjamin Rush. God isn’t (and I’d argue shouldn’t be) the center of America’s life. It sounds like Zach thinks he should be. I think that a God, perhaps even the God that I believe in, is the center of many American’s lives. Assuming for the moment that God even could be the center of a country’s life, how would it look? Well, if goodness/generosity is a fruit of the spirit then that would be a part of what we would need to express in order to be a good, Godly nation.

The notion of letting someone pick one’s self up, he says in the second video, is an American virtue. We can’t guarantee equal outcomes. It’s up to us as individuals to figure out that course which will give us a state of comfortable subsistence. All of that is true, as far as it goes. None of that really sounds like generosity though. It sounds like rugged individualism (not necessarily a bad thing by itself) and not at all like having the giving and generous nature that God wants for us.

He goes on to say that the government can’t force us to be charitable. Charity comes from the heart. Forced charity equals theft. That’s all very true (except for maybe the last part which is arguable) and here’s where our goodness is put to the test. If government does take from us that which is “rightfully ours” what do we do? Do we joyfully accept the confiscation of our property and move on in a spirit of generosity? Or do we complain that we’re being dealt an injustice? (Please be aware that I don’t think that all the folks that were at this rally, Zach included, are “complainers” or aren’t generous.)

I suppose one could do both. It’s well within one’s rights as a citizen to protest bad taxes. Still I think any given generation had a significant portion of the populous (probably in any given country) that felt wronged by how the government spent “their” taxes. The question becomes, what do we as Christians do when that happens?

In the face of this, Zach says, “we are a giving people”. He goes on to say, “we give more as a percentage of GDP than any other country”. If that’s true (and the stats I’ve found don’t entirely back that up), is that alone enough to make us “good”?

As a nation we’ve done great things. We are certainly not, as some on the left have said, evil. Though, it should also be said, we have done and continue to do evil things. As individuals the Americans I know are, in general, “good” people, in the sense that they care about others and in the world’s eyes at least they could be a lot worse.

We all sin though and have fallen short of the glory of God. That is a Christian doctrine that I have no problem affirming. Given that, I’d be hard pressed to say that as a country, we’re “good”. I don’t think that’s something any one of us as citizens should take personally. I just think that we should be careful going about and telling others how good we are as a country, without something a little more solid to back it up.

Are We Good? is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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The first mistake is surely to condescend to fundamentalism. We may disagree with it, but it has attracted millions of adherents for centuries, and for a good reason. It elevates and comforts. It provides a sense of meaning and direction to those lost in a disorienting world. The blind recourse to texts embraced as literal truth, the injunction to follow the commandments of God before anything else, the subjugation of reason and judgment and even conscience to the dictates of dogma: these can be exhilarating and transformative. They have led human beings to perform extraordinary acts of both good and evil. And they have an internal logic to them. If you believe that there is an eternal afterlife and that endless indescribable torture awaits those who disobey God’s law, then it requires no huge stretch of imagination to make sure that you not only conform to each diktat but that you also encourage and, if necessary, coerce others to do the same. The logic behind this is impeccable.

If reading that stings you in any way, I’m guessing that you either are or were some sort of “fundamentalist” be that Christian or otherwise. I’m not sure that every word in that paragraph is necessarily true or that the whole thing is fair, but I share it because,
believe it or not, it described me once upon a time. These days, not so much. That level of certainty when it comes to every jot and tittle is beyond me.

I also share it because in talking to my friend Brad last night, the Uncertainty Principle came up. It states, for instance, that the more accurately you can describe a particle’s position, the less accurately you can describe its velocity. This isn’t a limitation of ability or science, it’s simply the way the universe works. Now, neither Brad nor myself is a scientist, and this is simply an analogy that came up, so forgive any damage done to the definition or its implications. But we saw an application in this to our faith. Being uncertain isn’t a bad thing.

A certain amount of uncertainty (heh) is practically required in our faith. Brad brought up Job. The man’s questions went largely unanswered, save for God basically saying, “are you me?”. Job accepted that he wasn’t God and would never have all of the answers and that was to his credit according to the scripture. For me it’s not that easy. I have these questions and I simply can’t not ask. So what can I do?

I can take comfort in knowing that while I don’t have the answer, that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. I can understand that God wasn’t angry at Job for asking the questions. He was angry at Job’s friends for misrepresenting him. I can try to grasp the notion that the more certain I am of God’s love and character, the less certain I might be about how that’s actually playing out in the world. And I can be okay with that.

For now.

The (Un)Certainty Principle is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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Leigh and I were up late last night talking and I wanted to find out what really bugged me about this. I think I hit on something. While there certainly isn’t anything wrong with having limits and accountability, I think there is something wrong with fencing one’s self completely in.

To help me go into that I’ll reproduce a response to that Facebook thread, a defense of Josh from one of his parishioners:

“He (Josh) had just preached a message from Mark 6 about Herod and his wacked out wife Herodias and the killing of John the Baptist. He spoke of how Herod had obviously not built many fences in his life and relationships, and this led to some pretty serious offenses, and that is putting it lightly.”

So the proposal is that if Herod had simply built some fences, presumably ones based on the Jewish faith, he would have been a lot better of a person. I find that more than a little odd. If Herod was a practicing Jew then he would have had the “fences” God put in place by which he could run his life. These fences, the Law, are certainly the basis for a solid way to run one’s life, even if you just stuck to the Decalogue. Since I’m reasonably sure that Herod wasn’t a practicing Jew he had whatever fences he built for himself.

What it sounds like here is that there is a proposition on the table that we need to build our own fences over and above the Law that God provides and that this will lead to a blameless life, or at least a more moral one. More on that in a second. The gent went on to say:

“Personally, I think our society could use a few more fences…..the cool thing is Christ gives us freedom in many areas as to where and how high those fences need to be.”

So yeah it seems like he’s advocating that our society needs more fences (“Biblical” ones presumably?) and that if we would all just follow the law we’d be better off. Better still if we add a few more fences of our own devising that keep us from jumping God’s fences. And apparently we have freedom from Christ as to where and how high these man made fences are.

Okay…

Deep breath…

Here’s the problem I have with this.

16So I say, live by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the sinful nature. 17For the sinful nature desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the sinful nature. They are in conflict with each other, so that you do not do what you want. 18But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under law.
19The acts of the sinful nature are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; 20idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions 21and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.
22But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. 24Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the sinful nature with its passions and desires. 25Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. – Galatians 5

If we’re living by the Spirit we won’t gratify the desires of our sinful nature. If we’re living by the Spirit we’ll have (among other things) self control. If we’re led by the Spirit we’re not under law.

So if we build these fences are we not trusting ourselves or the Spirit? Are we saying “I don’t have self control so I’m going to advocate giving control to someone else so that I don’t fall and can remain blameless.”? It sounds like it to me.

Now just to try and be clear I’m not saying that if you live by the Spirit that you’ll never sin again. I know we’re not made completely perfect in this life. However, I do know that we can get better and that God can give us victory over sin. It doesn’t take good, strong, high fences to do that. It takes living by the Spirit. I’m also not saying that we shouldn’t have brothers to hold us accountable. That’s part of being in the body of Christ.

Ultimately what I’m working through here is the idea that fences don’t make a righteous society or a righteous individual. What they do make is bad theology.

Good Fences Make Bad Theology is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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We have a lot of idols in this society and no small number of them revolve around personal appearance and the effort to stay not only young but unnaturally fit. I recorded a podcast for Compassion365 on beauty that addressed a thought or two on this topic.

Now there’s nothing at all wrong with getting in shape and being healthy. I’d make the joke that I’m in shape and that that shape is slightly ovoid, but… oh wait I just did. There is however a problem when you push that past a healthy place and into “fighting and working against every natural instinct that there is” and when you try to look real good by feeling real bad. This obsession with becoming like the guy/girl in the ads can destroy people’s physical, economic, and mental health and all in pursuit of something that isn’t real.

Oh sure, the trainer in this video is real enough and he slaves away for hours every day to get and keep that reality. Like one gentleman said though, in referring to the workout machine ads, they take pros who have punished their bodies into shape and pose them with the machines, selling a falsehood. These ads for machines and pills and workout regimens promise that if you just do what they say then you’ll look just like the pictures they show you.

If you can get there, and I would imagine that there are some that do, though not many, then what?

Are you a better person? Will people respect and admire you? Will grown men slap you on the back and will beautiful women swoon (or vice versa)?

What they’re selling to you isn’t health, it’s an image, an idol. Being healthy is great, but shooting to end up like Mr. Universe or Chuck Norris by buying a bottle of pills or a stack of DVDs is short sighted and I’ll even go so far as to say foolish. I say that not just because of the fact that you will likely fail. I say that because chasing a certain appearance will not satisfy you even if you manage to attain it. More importantly, it won’t satisfy God either.

When Jon sent me the trailer earlier today, my first thought was of a passage from 1 Samuel 16.

6 When they arrived, Samuel saw Eliab and thought, “Surely the LORD’s anointed stands here before the LORD.”
7 But the LORD said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”

Many of us see a person on TV or walking down the street and say, “I want to be like him/her!” We’ll sacrifice time, money, whatever it takes to be pleasing in men’s eyes. How much effort do we put forth to be pleasing in God’s? How hard would you work, fighting against your “natural instincts” to sin? Do you have as big a heart for God as you do for being a perfect 10?

I Wanna Be Like Him! is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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As each speaker was brought up, the leader would read an introduction written by the speaker’s wife. They were largely ringing endorsements of the individuals and none of them knew that it was coming prior to the retreat, so that was pretty cool. During Hunter’s intro, his wife told him to relate the “nun joke” and so he did. It was a story about his sons when they were young. They were playing in the car and Hunter was watching them from inside their house. He saw them roll down the window and shout something at some passing nuns. Interested in seeing what it was all about, Hunter came to the front porch and realized that both boys were yelling obscenities. In the interest in avoiding any offense to my readers I will avoid repeating that here (though admittedly I feel conflicted in doing that).

Those words offended some that were present. Now to take Hunter’s side, he was just repeating what his sons said. It was clear that his boys had no clue what they were actually saying and it made the story (at least in my opinion) funnier to hear Hunter shout it. It didn’t end there tough. The rest of his talks were lightly peppered with a few other choice words (or so I’m told). The only one I can think of right of the top of my head was the use of the actual noun for a female dog in heat (interestingly enough actually referring to that very creature). I’m sure though that there were others. This shocked some of our visiting guys who had never heard a pastor use that language before. For all I know it offended some others who said nothing.

This offense was actually a large part of a conversation I had with a couple of lads that lasted well until the wee hours (about three in the morning). The question being, should a pastor (or any Christian) ever “swear”? Is that a sin?

Well James talks a lot about the tongue and how we should use it. The verse often picked out is:

James 3:9 “With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God’s likeness.”

The word curse there means “to curse, doom, imprecate evil upon” and is the same word used a few times in that passage. This is not about the words themselves but about what you do with those words. What is your intent in using them? I think that’s what’s important here.

Ephesians also has a lot to say on this matter:

Eph. 4:29 “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.”

Eph. 5:4 “Nor should there be obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, which are out of place, but rather thanksgiving.”

Those are a bit more pointed and it seems clear that some of what went on could be considered obscenity/unwholesome talk and likely is by some folks. There’s also the notion that we need to consider the “weaker brother” and the possibility that we need to avoid offending someone but in the light of these verses those points seem secondary if not tertiary to me. It’s not that they’re not important, but if the reason we need to avoid these things is that they’re a sin then that seems most worthy of addressing.

The problem here seems to be that we define what coarse joking or obscenity or foolish talk is by the words themselves. Ultimately that’s a little tricky. If we go down that path then it’s all very subjective. We develop these lists based on what our culture (and the notion of culture is much more narrow than I think most folks like to admit) deems inappropriate. The use of the word bitch is a perfect example. Some people think that you shouldn’t use that word under any circumstance. Because our culture (or at least some in our larger American culture) have deemed it offensive, then they would argue that this word should never be used about anything, not even the appropriate use that Hunter gave it.

To me these sorts of fences are awfully arbitrary. Even in the first Ephesians verse it seems to me that Paul is still looking at what effect these words are having on people. I think that is what’s important. If we are using words, whether they are on “the list” or not, to hurt people then it is clear to me that that is a sin. If I use a word that you find offensive in and of itself, but I’m using it to relate a story to make a salient point and censoring would blunt the impact of the story, then I say use the word. If leaving it out doesn’t reduce the story’s efficacy (a call I think is up to the author/teller) then I say air on the side of caution. Consider your audience and decide if it’s really necessary to “salt” your language.

The Bible itself. even Christ himself, used language that both their original audiences and modern day ones would find offensive or crude. Jon pointed out Ezekiel 23:20 and 16:17. Christ and Paul both used language that seem designed to offend. There was a good reason for those words being in there though. They were there to impact people. They were often wake up calls, chosen to benefit the hearer in some way.

I think that is how we should decide on how to speak.

Salty Language is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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Mentioned in this podcast:Let Christians Vote As Though They Were Not Voting

Promo played for Are You Just Watching

Spiritual Stew: Episode 16 – Your Jesus is Too Safe is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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In episode seven A little bit of predestination talk.
Mentioned:
Sid’s Blog
Predestination/Election (pt. 1)
Predestination/Election (pt. 2)

Music from3rd Man, called Blind Spot.

Spiritual Stew: Episode Seven Predestination is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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During that discussion one of the commentors said something to the effect that even Charles Spurgeon found the idea of predestination/election unpalatable. That didn’t sound right to me. I’m no Spurgeon expert so I went to the Pyromaniacs blog and consulted with them. It was confirmed that Spurgeon was indeed Reformed in his theology though he did “despise” hyper-Calvinism (pre-destination unto damnation) as much as he did Arminianism (free will to choose or reject God).
Then Frank Turk responded to my query with this,

However, (and we should have t-shirts made to this effect) nobody should really care what Spurgeon thought about anything: we should only be concerned to know and accept what God has Himself taught about the subject of salvation — who is saved, why he saves, how he saved, when he saved, whether one needs to be saved, etc.

Of course Frank couldn’t be more right. After all, none of us were baptized in the name of Spurgeon/Calvin/Arminius/etc. He went on to say a great deal more that was incredibly edifying and uplifting, for which I am thankful. Both he and Phil Johnson were very gracious in responding to my queries and I learned quite a bit. More on that to come.
While mulling all of this over in my head I threw a post up on my new message board and began to chat with Pinakidion. He challenged me to define predestination as I understood it. My reply was, “Basically the idea that God chooses whom he will to become Christians. Outside of his intervention we lack the ability to choose him. So God predestines whom he will to salvation. For me it’s not about what color socks I’m going to be wearing this morning. Though God certainly knows that, he doesn’t choose it for me.” This, as Pink said, is a sort of limited predestination that carries with it its own challenges to work through. It could be argued that God is Lord of All or not Lord at all. This is pretty much in line with what I understand the PCA church to believe (the Lord of all part). Everything I’ve heard taught there is very much an unlimited Lordship/sovereignty. I don’t know that I can believe however that God needs to predestine the socks I wear in order for him to be sovereign over the universe. So why do we need to be “choosen”?
For me it starts at the idea that man is “totally depraved”. This does not mean, as it may sound, that we are as bad as we could be. It doesn’t mean that man can’t perform good works for his fellow man. It simply (heh) means that man is unable in and of himself to choose God over sin. We are slaves to sin and we are dead in our transgressions. That’s pretty strong language that the Bible uses to show us where we were at in relation to God. The only way out of death or slavery is to be bought or regenerated. So that seems pretty clear. With me so far? Agree/disagree? Let me hear it.

Predestination/Election (pt. 1) is a post from: Spiritual Tramp

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