Inside my head there are thoughts. The thoughts are shiny. Their orange shiny-ness shows through in my hair.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Baptism
Obviously, baptism, and particularly the question of whom to baptise, has been debated for ages. Those who know me will know that I am somewhat in favour of believers' baptism, and somewhat opposed to infant baptism. Those who know me well will know that this is putting it mildly. But the debate at the moment revolves around something different: should those who believe in baptism for believers only join in communion with those who were baptised as infants? Should a credobaptist church require credobaptism as a condition of membership?
I actually think that this apparently minor issue could help us to get to the heart of the larger issue (paedo or credo), because it has to do with what baptism is.
I think most credobaptists see baptism as a believer's response to a salvation already received by faith. It is therefore a work, and belongs in the traditional ordo salutis within the realm of sanctification. Hence for Grudem, the effects of baptism are "the blessing of God's favour that comes with all obedience, as well as the joy that comes through public profession of one's faith, and the reassurance of having a clear physical picture of dying and rising with Christ and of washing away sins". What does baptism do? More or less the same as any obedience to Christ, with a little extra symbolism thrown in.
I'm not sure that measures up to the New Testament. Here are a few things I'd want considered:
How do you become a disciple? "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit" (Matthew 28:19).
What do unconverted sinners need to do when convicted of their sin? "Repent and be baptised every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ" (Acts 2:38)
How are people forgiven of sin? "Repent and be baptised...for the forgiveness of your sins" (Acts 2:38)
How do we participate in Christ's death and come to benefit from it? "Do you not know that all of us who have been baptised into Christ Jesus were baptised into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death..." (Romans 8:3-4)
How are we saved? "Baptism... now saves you" (1 Peter 3:21)
Obviously, look up the references and check I'm not ripping them mercilessly out of context!
So, what is baptism? If baptism does all the things above, how are we to hold that we are saved by faith alone?
The answer, I think, is simply this: baptism is a promise, given by God, and therefore we are saved by exercising faith in that promise. Baptism is the offer of forgiveness. So we cannot ask "should baptism come before or after believing?" Baptism is believing! Or at least, baptism is the offering of a promise, effective if met bu faith in the person being baptised. That is why I am a credobaptist, incidentally. I don't believe that baptism is the first step of obedience after faith; I believe that baptism is, or should be, the first step of faith.
So what about communion with people who were baptised as infants? What about rebaptising them? Well, if they are believing the promise of baptism, then I would receive them as baptised. I would not rebaptise them - indeed, the very idea of rebaptising makes me feel a little ill. If, on the other hand, they found that they could not trust the promise of their baptism because of doubts about its validity, I might counsel them to receive a (first) baptism they could believe in - and to regard the former ceremony as empty and no baptism at all.
Baptism is the appointed means of entering the church by faith. Baptism saves us through our faith in Christ. It is not empty symbolism or magic ritual. It is the church's gift, the gift she received from the Lord and offers to all who will take it in faith.
I believe in it.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Remembering the story
And you shall make response before the LORD your God, 'A wandering Aramean was my father. And he went down into Egypt and sojourned there, few in number, and there he became a nation, great, mighty, and populous. And the Egyptians treated us harshly and humiliated us and laid on us hard labor. Then we cried to the LORD, the God of our fathers, and the LORD heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression. And the LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great deeds of terror, with signs and wonders. And he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And behold, now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground, which you, O LORD, have given me.' And you shall set it down before the LORD your God and worship before the LORD your God.
This is clearly a creed, but unlike our creeds (which belong within the discipline of systematic theology) this is essentially narrative. It is a remembering of the story of the nation. In reciting it, the individual identifies with the people of Israel as a whole, stretching back through history. "We" were rescued at the exodus. The Lord brought "us" into the land. So this little narrative creed makes the saving events of the past a present reality for the current generation of Israel.
I wonder whether the ascendancy of Biblical theology, coupled with the prevailing ignorance of the overarching Biblical narrative amongst both Christians and others, means that the time is ripe for the writing of a narrative creed to be recited in our churches?
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Infallibility
Without further ado...
Socrates: I should very much like to hear something about your doctrine of the word of God - it's a subject that has always interested me, but about which I know very little. (For it is the way of Socrates to feign ignorance).
Jim the Conservative Evangelical (for it is he): Well, Socrates, I'm very glad you asked, for this is a subject on which I know a great deal. What do you want to know?
Socrates: Well, I have heard the word of God described as "infallible" - would that be a view to which you would subscribe? And what exactly would you mean by it?
Jim the CE: I would indeed take that view, Socrates, though I might prefer in general discourse to use the word "inerrant" so as not to be thought unduly liberal. This reservation notwithstanding, it seems clear to me that such verses of Scripture as Isaiah 55:9-11 show that God's word is infallible, by which I mean simply that by it God always achieves what he intends.
Socrates: Wonderful - that was precisely the passage of Scripture I had in mind. But tell me, do you think that we can tell the intent of God's word from the content of it?
Jim the CE: Despite my vast knowledge of this subject, I am not sure I understand you Socrates. Perhaps you could speak more clearly.
Socrates: Of course. Entirely my fault, I'm sure. What I meant was this: if we read God's word, does God intend to achieve by it what he declares in it? So, for example, if God says "repent", does he mean to achieve repentance, or does he mean to achieve something else?
Jim the CE: Well, God being no deceiver (as both Descartes and the Scriptures inform us), surely if God's word says "repent" then God intends to achieve repentance by it.
Socrates (with a wry grin): Very interesting. I wonder, Jim, have you ever engaged in evangelism?
Jim the CE: Why, of course. I am a Conservative Evangelical, you know. I have memorised all of the best gospel outlines, including Two Ways to Live, One Way to Live, No Other Way to Live and Living - Why Not? Often I have deployed these tools in the context of friendly discussion with my friends, and have found them useful both with and without napkin-based illustrations.
Socrates: Would you say then, that you have delivered the word of God to your friends?
Jim the CE: Yes.
Socrates: And the content of that word has been to call them to repent and trust in Christ?
Jim the CE: Yes.
Socrates: And have any of them failed to do so?
Jim the CE: Er... well...
Socrates: I'll take that as a yes. And yet haven't you delivered the infallible word of God calling them to repent and believe?
Jim the CE: Um... perhaps I didn't do it right, Socrates.
Socrates: Your learning of gospel outlines is exemplary, and so I'm sure we cannot put it down to that. Perhaps the word of God is not infallible all the time?
Jim the CE: I do remember hearing something about the Holy Spirit being needed to persuade people of the truth of the word... But still, I am quite sure that the word of God is infallible.
Socrates: Then it seems that we have only one possible conclusion before us - that what you have been telling your friends is not the word of God.
Jim the CE: Ah, but some have responded in repentance and faith, which I am sure could only be the result of the infallible word of God coming to them.
Socrates: Well, could it be the case that sometimes the same message is the word of God, and sometimes it is the word of men? It seems odd, I know - it was your mention of the Holy Spirit that got me thinking along these lines.
Jim the CE: I'm not sure I follow you Socrates. (For it is essential to the Socratic dialogue that the interlocutor be a little slow-witted).
Socrates: Well, I suggest that the Holy Spirit plays a role analagous to human breath. When I speak to you, my words are carried by my breath - that's what makes them my words. You could repeat them, and in a sense they would still be my words, but not carried by my breath. Perhaps God's word functions in a similar way. If he speaks them, carried by his breath (namely, the Holy Spirit), then they are directly his words, and as such infallible. But if you merely report them, then although they are in a sense still God's words, they are not "first-hand" as it were, and perhaps lack infallibility.
Jim the CE: 'Pon my word, Socrates, I think you've nailed it. Who would have thought that the Holy Spirit did so much! He's even more important than a napkin.
Socrates: Hmm.
Okay, it's partly a wind-up, and I'm not sure how much I want to identify with Socrates here. But I would appreciate any comments!
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Allsorts
1. According to 1 John 1, the only way that sin can ultimately hurt me is if I allow it to force me "into the dark", rather than me forcing the sin "into the light". Which is to say, sin confessed and brought out into the open before God is sin forgiven. Therefore, there is no need to hide my sin, but only to present it with repentance and accept God's grace.
2. According to Thessalonians 1, the life of the church comes from God's word, received with power, the Holy Spirit and deep conviction. Therefore no clever strategy will help us - only the gospel coming in the power of the Spirit. I preached something to this effect today.
3. I really love Great Britain. Boo to everyone who would like to arbitrarily override hundreds of years of shared history and partition this wonderful nation.
4. If I weren't theologically opposed to the idea of monkery, and if I didn't have a beautiful and wonderful wife, I would become a monk. This random thought arises from having a great deal of time to read over the last month or so, something I've hugely appreciated.
5. Buying a flat is hard work. Or at least, it is long work. I am bored of it already.
6. I really don't approve of Anglicanism. Expect a more constructive series of thoughts on this in the near future.
That is all.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
"Reformational" vs. "Just Reformed"
Reformational vs. "just reformed"
Herman Bavinck and Tim Keller on the Need for a Missional Church
Monday, July 09, 2007
"Speech Acts to Scripture Acts"...
...is the title of an essay I've just finished reading in Vanhoozer's rather excellent First Theology. I have to say, speech act theory is all new to me, so I may have misunderstood it. But if I haven't, I think it could well be the way forward when it comes to our understanding of Scripture. This gets a bit technical - I apologise.
Essentially, Vanhoozer points out (drawing heavily on philosophical work by J.L. Austin and others) that generally when we speak we do not intend merely to communicate information. Sometimes communicating information barely features amongst our intentions in speaking. For example, if I said to you "get out of my house!", I am not intending to communicate information primarily (although I may communicate that I am bored of your company and also rather rude). Primarily, I intend to achieve the result of you leaving my house! Recognising this, speech act theory contends that there are three elements to communication (the examples are all taken from the book):
- the locution - which does not communicate anything of the speakers intention in speaking, and is independent of the content of what is spoken. An example might be, "he said some words", or, more specifically "he said 'Jesus is Lord'".
- the illocution - is what someone does in speaking. This is dependent on the content, and also the context, of their speaking. So, if the locution is "he said 'Jesus is Lord'", the illocution might be "he confessed that Jesus is Lord", or perhaps "he told his neighbour that Jesus is Lord". These tell us why the speaker spoke, and what he intended to be understood by his speaking.
- the perlocution - is the effect (or sometimes the byproduct) of speaking. So, if the locution is "he said 'Jesus is Lord'", and the illocution is "he testified that Jesus is Lord", the perlocution might be "he made me feel unspiritual by comparison". (This would, hopefully, be an unintended perlocution!)
What is the point of all this, and how does it relate to Scripture?
I won't go into Vanhoozer's whole argument for the transferrence of speech act theory to the written word - suffice to say I find it persuasive and recommend you read it. The point, though, is this: we do not understand Scripture, or any other text, unless we recognise the illocutionary acts in them. Indeed, the art of interpretation is precisely the art of working from the locutionary act (the text as we have it written) to the illocutionary act (the intention of the author in the text). Vanhoozer is of course claiming what many postmodern theorists would deny - that there is a link between the two, and that we can therefore meaningfully speak of authorial intent. That he does so is based on his view that language is designed, and designed for communication. He makes the point repeatedly through the book that our doctrines of God, revelation and Scripture are inevitably intertwined, and therefore form one subject rather than three - namely, "first theology". This is one point in his discussion where this is very clear.
The most important thing for me, though, is the recognition that speech acts/scripture acts aren't always all about conveying information.Think about the traditional evangelical doctrine of Scripture, with its emphasis on inerrancy and truth. "The Bible is true". It strikes me that this way of formulating the doctrine, for all its many strengths, gives the impression that we are dealing with a textbook rather than an inspired record of God's dealings with his covenant people. In what sense can a narrative be "inerrant"? In what sense could Psalm 150 be "inerrant"?
Don't misunderstand me. I am not claiming that there are errors in Scripture. I'm simply wondering whether our emphasis on truth hasn't led us to reduce the majestic landscape of the Bible - with its stories, songs and prayers - to a flat plain of accurate propositions. I wonder whether speech act theory shows us a way out of this, by pointing out that we do not understand the text unless we understand what the author is trying to achieve through it - what the illocutionary act is. And this illocutionary act will not normally be "make so-and-so understand that this doctrine is true", although it may sometimes be that.
I have more to say on this, but it can wait for another day. If you're still reading at this point, you should probably read Vanhoozer instead of me, since he understands what he's writing about!
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Truth and love
In the first chapter, Vanhoozer reminds us of C.S. Lewis' toolshed illustration. For those not familiar with it, it involves imagining that one is in a darkened toolshed. Through a crack in the door, a beam of light enters the shed. If one looks at the beam of light, one sees illuminated dust particles moving about. In itself, that is something rather beautiful. But if one looks along the beam of light, one no longer sees the beam itself, but sees the outside world, and the sun which is the source of the light in the first place.
The anaolgy is hopefully obvious. If I spend all my time looking at Scripture, at theology, at doctrine, then I may well see beauty in the system, or the narrative, or the philosophy. But will it be qualitatively different from the beauty I see in Kant's philosophy, or Tolstoy's narrative? I think not. What is more, it will be the kind of thing that I can grasp and master and pin down - the kind of thing, in other words, that will puff me up (1 Cor 8:1).
What is required is that I look along Scripture, doctrine and theology, that I look to the One to whom these things point - the One who is the very source of these things. That means turning my knowledge into worship. It means realising that there is Someone there whom I cannot fully comprehend, cannot pin down, cannot master - but rather must be mastered by. This knowledge works by love, and does not puff up, for it realises that chiefly I do not know God but he knows me (1 Cor 8:3). Vanhoozer gives an eloquent riff on 1 Corinthians 13:
After all, Christian truth is in the service of Christian love. If I speak with the tongues of Reformers and of professional theologians, and I have not personal faith in Christ, my theology is nothng but the noisy beating of a snare drum. And if I have analytic powers and the gift of creating coherent conceptual systems of theology, so as to remove liberal objections, and have not personal hope in God, I am nothing. And if I give myself to resolving the debate between infra and supralapsarianism, and to defending inerrancy, and to learning the Westminster Catechism, yea, even the larger one, so as to recite it backwards and forwards, and have not love, I have gained nothing.