...and make your way right now to Daniel Newman's post on penal substitution and then on to Glen Scrivener's post on responding to sin.
The gospel is true and beautiful.
Friday, August 08, 2008
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
The Church is Full
Shorter than yesterday, because only one simple point: when the church realises she is empty and acts as if she is empty, when she acknowledges that she is nothing and has nothing and takes that knowledge seriously; when she is forced by her own nothingness to turn away from herself and toward Christ - then, and then only, is she the Church.
When this happens in the Church, she looks towards the promise of Christ and the Word of God, and finds that the promise still holds true and the Word is still living and active. Against every indication, and beyond even her hope, the Church lives as the body of Christ. She preaches with authority as the herald of Christ. She comforts the broken with the comfort of Christ.
But she does not thereby derive an energy of her own, or an authority of her own, or a comfort of her own. At the centre of the Church, when she is really the Church, there is a deliberate vacuum. The ministries of the Church - the preaching of the Word, the administration of the Sacraments, the community life of her members - are all designed to point to this vacuum and to excite faith that the vacuum will be filled by the work of Christ himself.
Being the Church is not a status we can obtain, because it is never a static thing. Even our being the Church doesn't depend on us but on the work of the Lord in our midst, in the space at the centre of our being which is His. It is when she is empty and nothing that she is full and something, and not otherwise.
Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you.
When this happens in the Church, she looks towards the promise of Christ and the Word of God, and finds that the promise still holds true and the Word is still living and active. Against every indication, and beyond even her hope, the Church lives as the body of Christ. She preaches with authority as the herald of Christ. She comforts the broken with the comfort of Christ.
But she does not thereby derive an energy of her own, or an authority of her own, or a comfort of her own. At the centre of the Church, when she is really the Church, there is a deliberate vacuum. The ministries of the Church - the preaching of the Word, the administration of the Sacraments, the community life of her members - are all designed to point to this vacuum and to excite faith that the vacuum will be filled by the work of Christ himself.
Being the Church is not a status we can obtain, because it is never a static thing. Even our being the Church doesn't depend on us but on the work of the Lord in our midst, in the space at the centre of our being which is His. It is when she is empty and nothing that she is full and something, and not otherwise.
Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you.
Monday, August 04, 2008
The Church is Empty
In the last couple of posts, I have been trying to argue, in a somewhat ham-fisted manner, that it is important that we view the work of Christ and the work of the Church as separable, and that we do not consider the relationship between Christ's work and the Church's work in terms of identity. Legitimate questions have been raised by others, and I confess I'm only thinking these things through for the first time right now. My theological opinions are being shaped before your very eyes - bear that in mind when you're commenting!
I think it might be useful for me to walk you through some of the things that happen in the Church, from a human and from a divine perspective.
Take preaching, for example. What does the Church do? She opens the Scriptures, and reads, and hears; then she expounds, and hears. This is all very human. There is no remarkable power in it. It can be done with more or less technical accuracy; it can be done with appropriate passion and zeal, or sluggishly. It can be interesting or boring. It may change people's opinions, but then anyone with a touch of rhetoric can do that. It is frail.
But, and here's the thing, when the Church engages in preaching she does so with faith. The preacher has faith that Christ will speak; the listeners have faith that they will encounter the living Word of God and be changed. But the Church does not, and cannot, make this happen. It is not the Church's work to do so.
Or consider the Lord's Supper. The Church offers us a very small piece of bread - not enough to nourish us - and gives us a mouthful of wine - not enough to refresh. There is an air of hushed reverence, but then any ritual will evoke as much. The Communion table is fairly unimpressive in almost every way.
But the Church believes - trusts - that she feeds on the body and blood of the crucified Christ, partaking in his death, nourishing the inner man, giving food to sustain eternal life. Nevertheless, the Church does not, and cannot, make this happen. That is not the Church's work.
As a final example, though I could multiply them, take evangelism. The Church proclaims in the world the message of Christ. It is a weak and foolish message as far as the world is concerned. It may be proclaimed with more or less conviction, more or less accuracy when compared to the Scriptural benchmark. It may receive a friendly or an unfriendly reception. Most likely, it will be politely ignored.
But the Church goes about its evangelistic work with faith that this message brings new life. She trusts that this very message is the seed imperishable, able to convert the heart and change sinners to saints. But the Church does not, and cannot, make this happen. It simply isn't her role.
These examples show that the work of the Church and the work of Christ are not identical. When we realise this, we, who constitute the Church, must humble ourselves. We are not able to do anything. We do not have anything. We cannot produce any reason why the world should listen to us or even tolerate us. The Church is an empty vessel.
But Christ is powerful! And his power is not confined to or controlled by the Church. It will be present in the Church when he wills it to be - and we trust that he has promised to make it present. But we understand that we don't own it. Christ has not invested his authority in the Church; he exercises his authority from heaven in and over the Church, and indeed beyond her bounds.
If we forget this - if we start to think that the Church has an exalted status, or some vested power - then we will cease to be the Church. Let me give you some examples of what will happen.
Our teaching and preaching programme will change. Instead of being open to the Word of God in Scripture, we will teach our confessions and our established doctrines. Instead of understanding these things as provisional responses to God's word, we will start to see them as enshrined and sacrosanct depositories of timeless truths. Eventually, the 'Church' will just be having a conversation with itself - the preacher speaking for the 'Church', about the 'Church' and to the 'Church'. God's Word will not be heard.
Our engagement with the world will change. Rather than pointing away from ourselves and toward the one who saves, we will start to think that the main thing is to get people involved in the community life, or the worship, or the fellowship of the Church. The pressure will be on to sacrifice parts of the gospel message that are unappealing, or at least to downplay them. Even if we keep the gospel, we will attempt to show how strong and wise it is, how great an explanation of life it offers. We will invite people to see the wonder of our message and philosophy rather than the wonder of the saving Christ. The 'Church' has become a club.
Worst of all, we may become spiritually arrogant. Isn't this what happened to the Pharisees? They stopped magnifying God who had chosen Israel, and started to magnify Israel as the chosen of God. God forbid that the Church should follow them!
We are empty, nothing, feeble, weak. We are nothing and have nothing. But we know that Christ was on the cross, was in the tomb, and is in heaven. And so we point people to that reality.
And that is why I said "the Church is a community gathered around a signpost which points to redemption."
Tomorrow: why the Church is absolutely full of all she needs... Mmm... Dialectic...
I think it might be useful for me to walk you through some of the things that happen in the Church, from a human and from a divine perspective.
Take preaching, for example. What does the Church do? She opens the Scriptures, and reads, and hears; then she expounds, and hears. This is all very human. There is no remarkable power in it. It can be done with more or less technical accuracy; it can be done with appropriate passion and zeal, or sluggishly. It can be interesting or boring. It may change people's opinions, but then anyone with a touch of rhetoric can do that. It is frail.
But, and here's the thing, when the Church engages in preaching she does so with faith. The preacher has faith that Christ will speak; the listeners have faith that they will encounter the living Word of God and be changed. But the Church does not, and cannot, make this happen. It is not the Church's work to do so.
Or consider the Lord's Supper. The Church offers us a very small piece of bread - not enough to nourish us - and gives us a mouthful of wine - not enough to refresh. There is an air of hushed reverence, but then any ritual will evoke as much. The Communion table is fairly unimpressive in almost every way.
But the Church believes - trusts - that she feeds on the body and blood of the crucified Christ, partaking in his death, nourishing the inner man, giving food to sustain eternal life. Nevertheless, the Church does not, and cannot, make this happen. That is not the Church's work.
As a final example, though I could multiply them, take evangelism. The Church proclaims in the world the message of Christ. It is a weak and foolish message as far as the world is concerned. It may be proclaimed with more or less conviction, more or less accuracy when compared to the Scriptural benchmark. It may receive a friendly or an unfriendly reception. Most likely, it will be politely ignored.
But the Church goes about its evangelistic work with faith that this message brings new life. She trusts that this very message is the seed imperishable, able to convert the heart and change sinners to saints. But the Church does not, and cannot, make this happen. It simply isn't her role.
These examples show that the work of the Church and the work of Christ are not identical. When we realise this, we, who constitute the Church, must humble ourselves. We are not able to do anything. We do not have anything. We cannot produce any reason why the world should listen to us or even tolerate us. The Church is an empty vessel.
But Christ is powerful! And his power is not confined to or controlled by the Church. It will be present in the Church when he wills it to be - and we trust that he has promised to make it present. But we understand that we don't own it. Christ has not invested his authority in the Church; he exercises his authority from heaven in and over the Church, and indeed beyond her bounds.
If we forget this - if we start to think that the Church has an exalted status, or some vested power - then we will cease to be the Church. Let me give you some examples of what will happen.
Our teaching and preaching programme will change. Instead of being open to the Word of God in Scripture, we will teach our confessions and our established doctrines. Instead of understanding these things as provisional responses to God's word, we will start to see them as enshrined and sacrosanct depositories of timeless truths. Eventually, the 'Church' will just be having a conversation with itself - the preacher speaking for the 'Church', about the 'Church' and to the 'Church'. God's Word will not be heard.
Our engagement with the world will change. Rather than pointing away from ourselves and toward the one who saves, we will start to think that the main thing is to get people involved in the community life, or the worship, or the fellowship of the Church. The pressure will be on to sacrifice parts of the gospel message that are unappealing, or at least to downplay them. Even if we keep the gospel, we will attempt to show how strong and wise it is, how great an explanation of life it offers. We will invite people to see the wonder of our message and philosophy rather than the wonder of the saving Christ. The 'Church' has become a club.
Worst of all, we may become spiritually arrogant. Isn't this what happened to the Pharisees? They stopped magnifying God who had chosen Israel, and started to magnify Israel as the chosen of God. God forbid that the Church should follow them!
We are empty, nothing, feeble, weak. We are nothing and have nothing. But we know that Christ was on the cross, was in the tomb, and is in heaven. And so we point people to that reality.
And that is why I said "the Church is a community gathered around a signpost which points to redemption."
Tomorrow: why the Church is absolutely full of all she needs... Mmm... Dialectic...
Friday, August 01, 2008
Jesus, the Church and the world
My previous post was ostensibly about the end of the world; in fact, it was about the way that Christ relates to his Church and his world. I want to outline three models of the relationship between Christ, the Church and the world, which I will characterise as the Roman, the Liberal and the Reformed. In using those labels, I don't mean that the positions I describe are consistently or exclusively held by people who would own those labels. The labels and the analysis generally are based on (my possibly very limited understanding of) Barth, but I find them to hold true. Let me know what you think.
On the Roman view, Christ is practically identified with the Church. This shows clearly in the Roman doctrine of revelation. God reveals himself, for the Roman Catholic, in Scripture and the Church's tradition. These apparent two sources are in fact not equal, for only the Church has the ability to correctly interpret Scripture. The result is that in fact God's revelation is identified with the Church's teaching. In the doctrine of salvation we see the same pattern. A person is saved by believing the Church and submitting to the sacraments of the Church. The Church is the source of salvation through which all God's grace is mediated. Where is Christ? He is in the Church. This shows most obviously in Roman sacramental theology regarding the Mass: the priest is literally able to make Christ physically present in a way which cannot happen outside the Church. There is more or less no distinction between the work of Christ and the work of the Church.
What about the liberal view? Well, revelation for the liberal protestant tends to mean simply a spiritualised reading of the general history of the world. 'Human development' and 'cultural advances' were the main source of 'revelation' for the liberals of the 19th century, and it is still the case that liberals look primarily to humanity for revelation. Liberals do not major on the doctrine of salvation, but if they have anything to say it tends towards universalism and the general salvation of all through their own effort or moral rectitude or spirituality. Where is Christ? In the world, in a sense - he is ubiquitous, because he is mythical. That is not to say Christ is not real, but he is real in the sense of a general truth rather than a particular person. There is no distinction between the work of Christ and the playing out of world history.
The Reformed view places revelation firmly in the person of Christ, as witnessed by the prophets and apostles in Scripture. In contrast to the Roman view, this Scripture is not under the control of the Church, but stands over against the Church. And as opposed to the liberals, this Christ is not merely the product of human culture but is the intervention of God in history, indeed the incarnate God himself. In terms of salvation, the Reformed view is that Christ alone saves, through faith in him. The Church does not mediate grace as the Roman view would have it. Grace comes 'direct', from the Lord. The Reformed view introduces a distinction between the work of Christ and the work of the Church: it must, because it recognises that the Church can go wrong and need to be called back to the Word of God. Where is Christ on this view? He is in Heaven. But he is witnessed to by his word in Scripture.
Obviously, I think the Reformed view, as I have called it, is correct. What does that make the Church? Well, if I had to define it in a sentence I would say this:
The Church is a community gathered around a signpost which points to redemption.
What I am trying to do is empty out the Church of any virtue of its own, and also of any claim to possess any virtue of Christ's. Christ is with, and in, the Church, by his word and Spirit, but we must not identify Christ and the Church, or the work of Christ and the Church. Christ does not belong to the Church in the same way that the Church belongs to Christ.
Reading back through this, it's a little less clear than I'd like. I'll follow up with further clarification, but in the meantime please do jump in and offer any thoughts you may have.
On the Roman view, Christ is practically identified with the Church. This shows clearly in the Roman doctrine of revelation. God reveals himself, for the Roman Catholic, in Scripture and the Church's tradition. These apparent two sources are in fact not equal, for only the Church has the ability to correctly interpret Scripture. The result is that in fact God's revelation is identified with the Church's teaching. In the doctrine of salvation we see the same pattern. A person is saved by believing the Church and submitting to the sacraments of the Church. The Church is the source of salvation through which all God's grace is mediated. Where is Christ? He is in the Church. This shows most obviously in Roman sacramental theology regarding the Mass: the priest is literally able to make Christ physically present in a way which cannot happen outside the Church. There is more or less no distinction between the work of Christ and the work of the Church.
What about the liberal view? Well, revelation for the liberal protestant tends to mean simply a spiritualised reading of the general history of the world. 'Human development' and 'cultural advances' were the main source of 'revelation' for the liberals of the 19th century, and it is still the case that liberals look primarily to humanity for revelation. Liberals do not major on the doctrine of salvation, but if they have anything to say it tends towards universalism and the general salvation of all through their own effort or moral rectitude or spirituality. Where is Christ? In the world, in a sense - he is ubiquitous, because he is mythical. That is not to say Christ is not real, but he is real in the sense of a general truth rather than a particular person. There is no distinction between the work of Christ and the playing out of world history.
The Reformed view places revelation firmly in the person of Christ, as witnessed by the prophets and apostles in Scripture. In contrast to the Roman view, this Scripture is not under the control of the Church, but stands over against the Church. And as opposed to the liberals, this Christ is not merely the product of human culture but is the intervention of God in history, indeed the incarnate God himself. In terms of salvation, the Reformed view is that Christ alone saves, through faith in him. The Church does not mediate grace as the Roman view would have it. Grace comes 'direct', from the Lord. The Reformed view introduces a distinction between the work of Christ and the work of the Church: it must, because it recognises that the Church can go wrong and need to be called back to the Word of God. Where is Christ on this view? He is in Heaven. But he is witnessed to by his word in Scripture.
Obviously, I think the Reformed view, as I have called it, is correct. What does that make the Church? Well, if I had to define it in a sentence I would say this:
The Church is a community gathered around a signpost which points to redemption.
What I am trying to do is empty out the Church of any virtue of its own, and also of any claim to possess any virtue of Christ's. Christ is with, and in, the Church, by his word and Spirit, but we must not identify Christ and the Church, or the work of Christ and the Church. Christ does not belong to the Church in the same way that the Church belongs to Christ.
Reading back through this, it's a little less clear than I'd like. I'll follow up with further clarification, but in the meantime please do jump in and offer any thoughts you may have.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Not the end of the world
After a brief summer break, some controversy to kick us off again. Why not?
Amongst those Christians who talk about such things, there are three basic views of what happens at the end of the world, which are roughly as follows:
Premillennialism - the idea is that Jesus returns to the earth, where he reigns over an earthly kingdom for 1000 years. A good time will be had by all, but at the end of this period there will be a rebellion, leading to the final victory over evil and the judgement.
Postmillennialism - on this view, the spread of the gospel enjoys such success that the world gets gradually 'better'. Christian influence grows and grows, as does the church itself. After 1000 years (or thereabouts) of this blessing, Christ returns and initiates the events leading to the final judgement.
Amillennialism - essentially, a denial of the two previous positions. No future 1000 year period of any significance, and only one really significant event: the return of Christ, which will be accompanied by final judgement, and then the inauguration of the new creation.
That is a gross over-simplification; for more detail, consult Grudem's Systematic Theology, and particularly his rather helpful diagrams.
All three of these views are very much within the bounds of orthodoxy. (There is a subset of premill views associated with dispensationalism which I think push the envelope. Their view of the covenant seems heterodox to me. But let us leave them to one side). Varieties of each sort of view have been maintained by eminent theologians through the centuries. Nobody needs to go excommunicating anybody over disagreements of this sort. It's not the end of the world if we disagree about the end of the world.
Nevertheless, I think that one of these systems has serious problems theologically, which I mention because I detect that it is on the rise in certain circles. Yes, I speak of postmillennialism, the view that the world is getting, or at least will get, better through the influence of the Christian Church.
This view has much to recommend it. Postmills are optimistic about the gospel - they really believe in its power to transform. They are also committed to making the world a better place, something which is certainly commendable in a Christian but absent in many (or at least playing second fiddle to evangelistic concerns). Postmills have also often thought deeply about important issues, like the role of the state, or the extent to which one can insist on Christian morality being given legal sanction - issues which many of us push to the sidelines. They are committed to the gospel and committed to the world, and thus far huzzah for them.
My issue is at exactly the point where postmills part the ways with their pre- and amill brethren. Postmills divide two things which the other views hold together, namely the presence of Christ and the blessing of the world. The world is blessed, on the postmill scheme, and becomes decisively improved, in the absence of the Lord Jesus Christ. And that is theologically unacceptable.
To anticipate two potential rejoinders...
Of course Christ is not utterly absent for any Christian - he is present by his Spirit. Might it not be the case that Christ brings about the subjugation of the nations by the power of his Spirit at work in the Church? Well, it might be, and I could be wrong. But note how exalted a status this gives the Church. And note how easy it is on this scheme to identify the work of Christ with the work of the Church. I would contend that this assigns too large a part in the redemption of the world to human beings, and exalts the Church as the vehicle of Christ's redemptive activity in a way that reminds me of Roman sacramentalism.
And of course, the world does not consistently and continuously get worse. There are ups and downs. The church does, and should, have an influence for good. But that influence waxes and wanes in so far as powerful people listen to the church. Because the church merely witnesses to a salvation to be bestowed at Christ's return. In no other way does she mediate that salvation. She goes from being the martyr Church to being the Church of Constantine happily enough, but she must always be prepared to go back again. Because without Christ, no ground on this fallen world can be taken and held. The battle rages, but it won't be won until Jesus comes back.
Oh, and I think premill is wrong too, I'm just less uptight about that one right now ;o)
Amongst those Christians who talk about such things, there are three basic views of what happens at the end of the world, which are roughly as follows:
Premillennialism - the idea is that Jesus returns to the earth, where he reigns over an earthly kingdom for 1000 years. A good time will be had by all, but at the end of this period there will be a rebellion, leading to the final victory over evil and the judgement.
Postmillennialism - on this view, the spread of the gospel enjoys such success that the world gets gradually 'better'. Christian influence grows and grows, as does the church itself. After 1000 years (or thereabouts) of this blessing, Christ returns and initiates the events leading to the final judgement.
Amillennialism - essentially, a denial of the two previous positions. No future 1000 year period of any significance, and only one really significant event: the return of Christ, which will be accompanied by final judgement, and then the inauguration of the new creation.
That is a gross over-simplification; for more detail, consult Grudem's Systematic Theology, and particularly his rather helpful diagrams.
All three of these views are very much within the bounds of orthodoxy. (There is a subset of premill views associated with dispensationalism which I think push the envelope. Their view of the covenant seems heterodox to me. But let us leave them to one side). Varieties of each sort of view have been maintained by eminent theologians through the centuries. Nobody needs to go excommunicating anybody over disagreements of this sort. It's not the end of the world if we disagree about the end of the world.
Nevertheless, I think that one of these systems has serious problems theologically, which I mention because I detect that it is on the rise in certain circles. Yes, I speak of postmillennialism, the view that the world is getting, or at least will get, better through the influence of the Christian Church.
This view has much to recommend it. Postmills are optimistic about the gospel - they really believe in its power to transform. They are also committed to making the world a better place, something which is certainly commendable in a Christian but absent in many (or at least playing second fiddle to evangelistic concerns). Postmills have also often thought deeply about important issues, like the role of the state, or the extent to which one can insist on Christian morality being given legal sanction - issues which many of us push to the sidelines. They are committed to the gospel and committed to the world, and thus far huzzah for them.
My issue is at exactly the point where postmills part the ways with their pre- and amill brethren. Postmills divide two things which the other views hold together, namely the presence of Christ and the blessing of the world. The world is blessed, on the postmill scheme, and becomes decisively improved, in the absence of the Lord Jesus Christ. And that is theologically unacceptable.
To anticipate two potential rejoinders...
Of course Christ is not utterly absent for any Christian - he is present by his Spirit. Might it not be the case that Christ brings about the subjugation of the nations by the power of his Spirit at work in the Church? Well, it might be, and I could be wrong. But note how exalted a status this gives the Church. And note how easy it is on this scheme to identify the work of Christ with the work of the Church. I would contend that this assigns too large a part in the redemption of the world to human beings, and exalts the Church as the vehicle of Christ's redemptive activity in a way that reminds me of Roman sacramentalism.
And of course, the world does not consistently and continuously get worse. There are ups and downs. The church does, and should, have an influence for good. But that influence waxes and wanes in so far as powerful people listen to the church. Because the church merely witnesses to a salvation to be bestowed at Christ's return. In no other way does she mediate that salvation. She goes from being the martyr Church to being the Church of Constantine happily enough, but she must always be prepared to go back again. Because without Christ, no ground on this fallen world can be taken and held. The battle rages, but it won't be won until Jesus comes back.
Oh, and I think premill is wrong too, I'm just less uptight about that one right now ;o)
Friday, July 04, 2008
GAFCON
Excuse me for just pinching other people's blogs in lieu of writing anything of my own, but Peter Comont, my Pastor at Magdalen Road Church, has some very useful comments about GAFCON from the point of view of a non-conformist, with which I find myself in pretty much complete agreement. Have a read.
P.S. These links won't work anymore as Peter's blog isn't archived...
P.S. These links won't work anymore as Peter's blog isn't archived...
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Students, love the church!
Thus saith Bish:
It's easy for a Christian Union to view the local churches as an ATM to which they can periodically receive prayer and finance from. Local churches love to offer both of these, but it's really only appropriate if the individual members of the Christian Union are well rooted in the church. Church isn't 'them and they' who can help us, but 'us and we' which we love to be a part of.
I'd go as far as to say that if a leader in a Christian Union is not doing the above they need to repent of that and sort it out immediately. And if they're not prepared to do that they should resign. Likewise, when choosing new CU leaders it would be appropriate for current leaders to make commitment to a local church a non-negotiable qualification.
Read the rest, because it explains exactly how churches and CUs ought to work together.
It's easy for a Christian Union to view the local churches as an ATM to which they can periodically receive prayer and finance from. Local churches love to offer both of these, but it's really only appropriate if the individual members of the Christian Union are well rooted in the church. Church isn't 'them and they' who can help us, but 'us and we' which we love to be a part of.
I'd go as far as to say that if a leader in a Christian Union is not doing the above they need to repent of that and sort it out immediately. And if they're not prepared to do that they should resign. Likewise, when choosing new CU leaders it would be appropriate for current leaders to make commitment to a local church a non-negotiable qualification.
Read the rest, because it explains exactly how churches and CUs ought to work together.
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