Why You Should Listen to Your Father-in-Law

There’s this really great story in Exodus 18. Moses is leading the Israelites through the wilderness and his father-in-law, Jethro, comes to visit. Now, Moses to this point has acted in the formal definition of a judge – the same way you find Deborah or Gideon responding later in Israel’s development. Judge meant rescuer or deliverer – one who fights on the behalf of another. That’s why God chose Moses to act as his judge in Egypt.

Somewhere along the way, Moses reinvented what a judge should be. Starting in verse 13, we see Moses sit down in a chair and begin to settle grievances among the people essentially acting in a legal capacity. A “judge” becomes someone who renders decisions in a legal fashion rather than someone who rescues others. Look at Moses’ answer to Jethro in verses 14-15:

Moses answered him, “Because the people come to me to seek God’s will. Whenever they have a dispute, it is brought to me, and I decide between the parties and inform them of God’s decrees and instructions.”

Jethro, in his own father-in-law way, tells Moses this is a horrible idea. But Jethro doesn’t put his finger on the real issue either. He says that Moses will be overwhelmed by the administrative task of rendering legal decisions for everyone. He advised him to spread out the responsibility. Good administrative decision. But one that misses the bigger picture. The reason Moses was sitting there in the first place is because he had exchanged the God’s original idea of judge as rescuer and deliver for the human concept that a judge uses delegated authority to tell everybody else what to do.

I’m not big on symbolic interpretation or anything, but this story strikes me as relevant to Jesus’ death on the cross. The crucifixion is not really the issue. It’s our inability to interpret the cross outside of what we know and understand. Just as Moses traded in the original understanding of  a judge as deliverer for the belief that a judge renders a legal decision, we too throughout history have done the same thing. We’re the ones that based it on feudal honor (Anselm) and breaking the law (Calvin). We treat the death of Jesus as a “transactional” event. God was angry. Someone had to pay. Jesus took God’s punishment. Justice has been served. We came up with the legal model. Of course, now we are so used to talking about it that we can’t see the cross without it. The cross was necessary, though I’m not sure the reasons we have constructed are the reasons God initially intended. It takes only a cursory look at the verses preceding John 3:16 the know that the cross was about more than “breaking the law” in some cosmic courtroom - it was about reconciliation and healing. A point Moses makes clear a few pages over in Numbers 21 (I talk about that in-depth here).

I think Jethro had a point. Most fathers-in-law do. He knew Moses had created a way of understanding  judgment far removed from God’s original calling. We do the same. How freeing would it be to embrace the cross as an avenue for rescue, redemption, and reconciliation?

“My God, Why Have You Forsaken Me?”

Everyone in Christian evangelical circles has had this quote explained to them in the following way: “God is unable to look upon sin and hates it so much that he turned his back on Jesus. And Jesus cried out in that moment of loneliness and isolation: why have you forsaken me?”

Though that makes for good theatrics, it’s not really accurate. It’s also a great example of reading a theological position into a passage to justify what we’ve already decided it means. Jesus isn’t just saying some random phrase – he’s actually quoting Psalm 22. And throughout the majority of the New Testament, Old Testament passages that are quoted sparingly are meant to be interpreted in light of the of the whole passage, not just the snippet that, say, Paul or Luke might give you. It’s kind of like a song or hymn. Though most pop songs derive their titles from the chorus, hymns or praise and worship anthems use the first line. So, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” is actually the first line; so is “I’m Trading my Sorrows” or “As the Deer.” Jesus was actually quoting a song title – Psalm (song) 22 to be exact. He quotes the first line (verse 1), knowing that we’ll know that he meant for us to read the whole text in light of his crucifixion.

But we don’t. We lost that little cultural clue along the way. And our accepted legal model of the atonement is happy to see God turning his head away from his object of wrath: Jesus. So, why don’t I give you the rest of the song?

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
      Why are you so far away when I groan for help?
 Everyone who sees me mocks me.
      They sneer and shake their heads, saying,
“Is this the one who relies on the Lord?
      Then let the Lord save him!
 If the Lord loves him so much,
      let the Lord rescue him!”

 My enemies surround me like a pack of dogs;
      an evil gang closes in on me.
      They have pierced my hands and feet.
 I can count all my bones.
      My enemies stare at me and gloat.
 They divide my garments among themselves
      and throw dice for my clothing.

 Praise the Lord, all you who fear him!
      Honor him, all you descendants of Jacob!
      Show him reverence, all you descendants of Israel!
 For he has not ignored or belittled the suffering of the needy.
      He has not turned his back on them,
      but has listened to their cries for help.

 The whole earth will acknowledge the Lord and return to him.
      All the families of the nations will bow down before him.
 Our children will also serve him.
      Future generations will hear about the wonders of the Lord.
 His righteous acts will be told to those not yet born.
      They will hear about everything he has done.

So, what’s going on here? Well, like every Psalm, this one tells a story. Psalm 22 tells of possible abandonment and affliction by enemies. It even describes some of the events surrounding Jesus’ crucifixion (another reason why Jesus chose to quote it). But in the “song,” when things seem the darkest, God rescues the afflicted. And though the Psalmist in verse one believes God is turning his back, verse 24 tells us God has not done so. That’s the point Jesus was making. God (identifying with Jesus) is on a rescue mission to save the world so that everyone will “hear about everything he has done.” If we believe that the fullness of the Trinity was reconcilling the world, they were all there with Jesus at that moment. All three were completely invested in the death and resurrection of Jesus.

We’ve asked countless times why Jesus died on the cross. Yet, we fail to read the rest of the “song” after Jesus quotes its title. Psalm 22 explains the cross as a moment when everyone can see the depths to which the Trinity will go to reconcile the world – to heal and deliver it from certain destruction. God doesn’t turn his head. He does the opposite. He dives directly into the human condition by becoming one of us. He’s not too holy to look at sin. He’s too holy to let sin hold humanity captive. And like the Father who hugs his prodigal son whose covered in pig filth, God in Jesus surrounds himself with sin so he can explode sin from the inside out.

Now, that makes more sense, doesn’t it?

Does God “Need” Jesus to Forgive?

On Good Friday, let’s stir the pot a little, shall we?

Okay, if you were raised in the church like I was, you got a steady diet of forgiveness talk, usually centering around the cross. Of course, there are plenty of atonement theories to wade through in all your spare time – I talk about those here and here. In most people’s minds, forgiveness is not really a God-like trait, but more of a Christ-like trait. After all, basic evangelicalism teaches us that the cross was necessary in order for God to forgive humanity. Though no one ever says it, we were taught that forgiveness couldn’t happen without the cross. In order for that to be true, any references to God’s forgiveness without Jesus should be absent from other parts of the Bible, particularly the Old Testament. But that’s not the case. Curious? Are you squirming in your seat yet? Read on, my friend…

 Here are two verses (there are plenty of others) from the OT that express God’s forgiveness outside of the work of Jesus.

Numbers 14:20-22:

“Then the Lord said, ‘I will pardon them as you have requested. But as surely as I live, and as surely as the earth is filled with the Lord’s glory, not one of these people will ever enter that land.’”

This passage is early on in God’s relationship with Israel and though we assume that Deuteronomic covenant conditions dictate God’s forgivess/pardon of the Hebrews, in this case, it doesn’t. What is the deciding factor? Moses’s request for God to reconsider destroying the Hebrews. And what does Moses use as a foundation for the Hebrews pardon in vv. 17-19? God’s song. And based on his loyal character, God reconsiders and forgives. At the same time, in this passage, God does not lift the consequences of the Hebrews’ sin. But check out this verse…

Micah 7:18-20:

Where is another God like you,
      who pardons the guilt of the remnant,
      overlooking the sins of his special people?
      You will not stay angry with your people forever,
      because you delight in showing unfailing love.
 Once again you will have compassion on us.
      You will trample our sins under your feet
      and throw them into the depths of the ocean!
 You will show us your faithfulness and unfailing love
      as you promised to our ancestors Abraham and Jacob long ago. 

As God’s involvement with Israel continues over the centuries, his loyalty always outlasts the failings of the people. By the time of the prophet Micah, God’s “delight in showing unfailing love” moves him to a place of forgiveness. God (pre-incarnation) forgives without the cross specifically mentioned. Now, Christians love to read this passage as a future understanding of God’s plan of salvation in Jesus. But that’s not really what Micah was saying, is it? If we take this part of the Bible seriously, we must accept the beautiful reality that God has always had the ability to forgive sin. God never treats sin in a casual manner, but he does forgive it before the historical event of the atonement occurs.

How is that possible? Well, what’s really at issue here is God’s unfailing loyalty. Forgiveness is merely an outworking of that deeper divine character. Unfailing love breeds forgiveness. Jesus basically gives us the same scenario as the prophets when he describes the Father in the Parable of the Prodigal Son. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed or not, but the term forgiveness, one Christians are obsessive about when talking of Jesus, is nowhere to be found in that story. Yet, there’s no doubt that forgiveness was on the mind of the father as he bounded up the road to hug and kiss his estranged child. That forgiveness is buried within the actions of an unconditionally loving father. It never has to be said. It’s just part of the deal.

So does God “need” Jesus to forgive? No. But God, after expressing that loyalty through other avenues like the prophets, finally chose to express that forgives through the sacrifice of Jesus so that we can grasp the incredible love of the Father. The intention was that though he may be misunderstood in the writings of the prophets and his dealings with Israel, the cross can never be misunderstood. All three persons of the Trinity we in co-mission at the cross, enabling, standing beside, and creating the greatest event in human history. Yet, somehow we still don’t get it – we create scenarios and a priori arguments of God necessitating the sacrifice of another to appease his wrath. And if you’re looking to placate and angry view of God, then the cross certainly works. But what about the verses above? They don’t diminish the beauty of Christ’s work on the cross…but they do emphasize the unfailing loyalty of the Father that has always existed – even before the cross. It seems God has been forgiving all along.

History’s Take on the Word of Faith Movement

With the recent passing of Oral Roberts, I began to ponder the Word of Faith movement and it’s impact on our present theological landscape. I grew up on a steady diet of T.V. evangelists. And as a young Christian, I adopted much of the “prosperity gospel” or “Word of Faith” message I heard. Now, there’s much within “Word of Faith” that needs correction. A friend of mine wrote a balanced treatment of that here (give it moment to download). But there’s some good things about it as well. That may be strange for you to hear, since normally people either love the “Word of Faith” message or they think it’s heresy. Sorry, I wish it were that simple. Sure, prosperity preachers say some wacked out things. But they also believe God actually cares about the day-to-day issues of life, like finances and health. And that’s something many of their detractors have no answer for. People who say God does a greater work by “healing the soul,” and not the body are completely out of touch with real life. Of course, there’s balance – God’s not gonna give you a Mercedes because you confessed it into existence. But neither am I the least bit afraid to say that God does bless people materially and financially.

Most people see the “prosperity gospel” as a new phenomenon – something created in the last 40 years or so. An “Americanized” form of Christianity that hinges upon Western consumerism and greed. And if you merely study contemporary reflections of Christianity, you may convince yourself that you are correct. But there are countless examples throughout church history that say otherwise (you can start with historians Keith Thomas, Valerie Flint, and Stephen Wilson for this information). For example, Keith Thomas in Religion and the Decline of Magic, tells the story of a local parishioner who believed his excommunication was ineffective since he had his best crop production the following year. In other words, this guy thought that if God had been angry at him, he would not have received such blessing. Yet his material prosperity stated otherwise. Most Christians throughout history have followed this line of thinking.

Equating material and relational “prosperity” to Christianity is as old as the church itself. This most commonly involved alternative uses of consecrated items found within the church. Parishioners drank holy water as a cure for illness, sprinkled it on their homes, their fields, and on their cattle for protection. Clergy performed exorcisms to make fields fruitful, lit holy candles to protect animals, and spoke curses to drive away vermin, weeds, and crop destroying insects. During communion, parishioners would not swallow the host but hold it in their mouth until they returned to their seat. They then carried the host as an amulet for protection, to cure disease, or sometimes ground it into powder to sprinkle over crops as a charm against caterpillars. Christians also took the blessed palms from Palm Sunday back to their farms where they placed them above their beds, on religious pictures, over doors, or planted them in the fields to ensure good crops. They were also placed in the cradles of babies, used to ward off storms, or weaved into small crosses that the people used as talismans. The practice of making palm crosses was banned in the 1540s, yet people continued these practices to the end of the 1800s. At calendar festivals, animals were blessed by the priest, sprinkled with holy water, and ritually washed or dipped as part of ceremony for health and protection. There are reports of parishioners withholding their tithes from ministers who refused to perform such remedies.

Despite clergy’s efforts to state otherwise, Christians have always believed in a prosperity gospel. The examples above explain this thinking: though Jesus helped in the afterlife, a cross worn around the neck protected from peril now. Though the Eucharist represented a life of spiritual communion with God, the host could be sprinkled over crops now. Though the blood of Jesus atoned sin, communion wine could heal a sick child now. It shouldn’t surprise anyone to learn that the rise of such practices roughly coincided with the marginalization of spiritual gifts by clergy.

Belief in ”prosperity” did not stop with the Reformation or with the Enlightenment. With Catholic and Protestant clergy condemning their use, people continued to employ alternate methods for physical and financial well-being. In 1594, Lutheran inspectors in Germany reported that “the use of spells is so widespread among the people here that not a man or woman begins…or refrains from doing anything…without employing some particular blessing, incantation, spell, or other such heathenish means…” They did this because clergy gave them no Christian alternative. So, they found substitutes. Documented examples like this exist into the twentieth century.

So, Sam, what are you trying to say? I’m saying that most Christians (until they are taught otherwise) honestly believe that God should be willing to intervene in their daily lives bringing “prosperity” in the forms of material blessing, protection, deliverance, healing, and wealth. Telling them they shouldn’t expect such things has never deterred anyone from seeking God’s blessing. The “Word of Faith” movement is merely a modern manifestation of this. And though some may see such requests for “blessing” beneath them, the majority of Christians throughout history have thought differently. The “prosperity gospel” isn’t new. In fact, wherever you find well-meaning Christians seeking the kindness and generosity of God, you’ll find it. If God cares at all, then he must care about all aspects of our lives.

Perfect in the Moment

Tom Oord gives an excellent overview of perfection in the Wesleyan/Methodist tradition, how it’s different than Calvinistic “imputation,” and living a sanctified life in the here and now. Enjoy

http://thomasjayoord.com/index.php/blog/archives/we_can_be_perfect_–_now/

Don’t Like Unlimited Atonement? Take It Up With Jesus.

I’ve always struggled with the end of Matthew 22:1-14: the Parable of the Marriage Feast. I think it’s great that when the master’s acquaintances dishonor him by refusing the invitation to the feast, the master invites anyone else who might be willing to attend so that the wedding hall could be filled with guests. To me, that’s very much a view of unlimited atonement. However, at the end of the parable, the master throws some guy out for not having on the proper wedding garment - something I had always been taught that each guest personally brings with them. I’ve heard some preachers imply that the garment represents faith or good works or divine election, depending which one of those “vices” appeals most to your theological leanings. But I came across something a while back that changed how I read the last part of this parable.

This ”wedding garment” (sometimes called a Kuftan) is an outer robe that was worn at formal functions. Everyone wore this garment, whether they owned one or not. It was a symbol of equality: once everyone had theirs on, status and prestige disappeared and all respect was paid to the bridegroom alone. But the most important thing about this wedding garment was that it was provided by the host family to everyone who attended. Wealthy families (the kind that would’ve staged this feast) had a closet of them solely for the purpose of giving them out to their guests.

Now, that should change things for you. The master in the story sees a man in the main room (not in the foyer where the garments were given out) without his wedding garment on. He says, “Friend, how did you come in here (the main hall) without your wedding garment (Kuftan)?” In other words, you were offered a Kuftan when you entered…and the only reason you wouldn’t have it on now is if you purposefully chose to reject it. And that obstinate behavior is what caused the master to throw the guest out of the party.

You see, according to the context of first century Judaism, everyone would have received a wedding garment. There was no need to earn it, nor was it given to only a select or arbitrary few. Anyone and everyone received the garment regardless of socio-economic background or cultural status. And once everyone was together wearing their robes, egalitarianism reigned in the house of the master. And that’s exactly what Jesus was trying to say. Everyone gets a robe…unless they refuse to wear it. And even then, the master in this story offered the guest a second chance to reconsider before he threw him out – but the guest did not respond.

God’s not looking to throw anyone out of the party. In fact, you really have to want to get thrown out. And in this way, the marriage feast parable is fairly explicit in teaching unlimited atonement. To read beyond or dismiss this contextual clue is irresponsible. Personally, I’m thankful it’s in there. I’ve been stubborn enough at times to resist the wedding garment only to be drawn back to the king when he entreats me to return to the Kuftan closet and put it on. In this parable, the wedding garment is not a sign of judgment. It’s availability to all guests is a sign of God’s mercy and grace to anyone and everyone who wants to attend the feast.

Spiritual Gifts and Reformed Theology: Can They Co-exist?, Part 2

3) Confining spiritual gifts to conversion: By the time of the Reformation, Christian mysticism had developed into several different strands. The mystical treatises previous to Luther’s time always emphasized the availability of God’s presence in a post-conversion state, similar to the doctrines of sanctification and the baptism in the Holy Spirit of the Holiness and Pentecostal traditions. But Luther consciously rejected these mystics and chose to draw from the work of John Tauler and the anonymous Theologia Germanica instead. Both of these works (and subsequently Luther) taught that all the gifts you need you receive at conversion alone. There is no post-conversion experience and the gifts these works cite are the Isaiah list passed down through Scholasticism. This is really the first place that the idea of “one baptism, many fillings” shows up in Christian history. Any experience a believer can have originates strictly at the salvation moment. There is no baptism in the Holy Spirit other than what the Holy Spirit does to enforce the saving work of Christ.

Because of all of this, Luther’s commentaries pass over most passages that describe Jesus’ healings in the gospels. Miracles have passed away and “no new and special revelation or miracle is necessary” since an “immeasurably greater and more glorious work and miracle” is found in salvation. Tongues is no longer given since the church speaks all languages and only “fanatical spirits and sectarians” would seek such a gift. Luther, like Gregory before him,  attaches merit to not seeking spiritual gifts since “nobody should presume to exercise it if it is not necessary or required.” The inference here is that since God determines all detailed events in life by his sovereignty, the need for signs and wonders should never arise. A miracle would contradict the natural order and ultimately contradict God’s predetermined will.

Calvin towed the line, stating that healing “had its beginning from the Apostles, which afterwards, however, was turned into superstition, as the world almost always degenerates into corruptions.” His cessation sentiments are similar to those before him: “[The possibility of spiritual gifts] either does not exist today or is less commonly seen.” Counterfeit miracles are determined by their association with wrong doctrine rather than their supernatural nature. For Calvin, the more charismatic gifts of 1 Corinthians have mutated into more permanent gifts of the intellect – tongues is seen as the ability to preach in a foreign language and the gift of discernment is the ability to rationally determine false doctrine. That sounds alot like the Reformed tendencies of today to me.

4) Modern expressions of these issues: Charismatics maintained a distinct post-conversion experience until the rise of the the Third Wave movement in Pentecostalism. Beginning in the 1980s with its influence continuing well into the 1990s, the basic premise of Third Wave groups is to embrace the move of the Holy Spirit, particularly the aspects of healing, deliverance, intimacy of worship, and spiritual warfare without disrupting the general church structures or denominations of which they are apart. The phrase was coined by C. Peter Wagner, who spearheaded the doctrinal emphasis of the movement. On a practical level, however, John Wimber and the Vineyard Movement were the driving force behind the Third Wave phenomenon. Wimber, once an associate of Chuck Smith, would eventually separate from Calvary Chapel due to his emphasis on spiritual gifts while choosing to retain a Reformed approach to doctrinal issues. Similarly, Wagner cites a Reformed-based approach to spiritual gifts in describing Third Wave doctrine. This is particularly evident in the Third Wave belief that the baptism in the Holy Spirit only occurs at conversion with multiple fillings that may resemble what Pentecostals would normally consider a second experience. Once again, “one baptism, many fillings” is directly imported from the Reformed tradition. Also, common the Third Wavers is the absence of the gift of tongues. Though the Third Wave movement made some charismatic manifestations acceptable in mainline denominations, it aggressively minimized the distinctive phenomena that had characterized the Pentecostal movement since its inception. Following its Reformed roots, the Third Wave essentially made Pentecostalism non-Pentecostal.

Many theologians, although accepting limited roles of experience, reject a secondary post conversion event. James Dunn, Max Turner, and Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen restrict forms of Spirit baptism to the conversion experience. Unfortunately, even some Pentecostal theologians have gone along with the crowd. Assemblies of God theologian Gordon Fee followed the Reformed tendency to see sanctification as merely a “metaphor for conversion.” So even though charismatic manifestations are now acceptable, all historical attempts to integrate spiritual gifts into Reformed theology have consistently resulted in the diluting of spiritual gifts. Reformed attempts to integrate spiritual gifts have generally left charismatic Christianity a mile wide and an inch deep. History proves this to be true. And though it’s not the popular opinion, I just can’t accept that. I can’t help but feel that Christian spirituality is meant to be deep and event-laden. To minimize the charismata is remove one of the main points of intimacy between us and God. Though others see the gifts as expendable, I’ll take them every time. Can spiritual gifts and Reformed theology co-exist? If historical precedent is any indication, the answer is no.

Spiritual Gifts and Reformed Theology: Can They Co-exist?, Part 1

A little while back, I told some fellow bloggers here that I didn’ t think charismatic gifts (the traditional 1 Corinthians list) and traditional Reformed theology were compatible. Though you could write a book on this topic, I do want to address some the issues I believe make them difficult to reconcile. As always, you’re free to disagree and comment. Please know that I am writing this assuming a basic understanding of both topics at hand. I won’t be stopping for definitions and the like. I’ll handle the issues in this order: 1) allegorization of miracles, 2) the Isaiah gift list, 3) confining spiritual gifts to conversion, and 4) modern expressions of these issues.

1) Allegorization of miracles: Even though the gifts of the Spirit were still common during the postbiblical period (even by “scaffolding model” timelines), clergy began to substitute allegorical interpretations for actual miraculous events and charismata. The need for miracles and spiritual gifts began to be seen as an elementary approach to Christianity, similar to the way the Alexandrian school taught that literal interpretation of scripture was beneath a mature believer. Rather, God’s acts of creation and the ”healing” of the soul (conversion) became the true miracles of the church. Augustine, in his Homilies on the Gospel of John, stated, “The Samaritans had waited for no sign, they believed simply His word.” Emphasizing faith that does not require miracles, he stated that mature Christians have “believed on Christ through the gospel; we have seen no signs, none do we demand.” Earlier, disgusted with commoners’ use of amulets to cure disease, Augustine stated that we should “rejoice” when someone is sick “tossed about with fever and pains” in hopes that the gospel “placed at the heart” will “heal it from sin.” Sin was the most urgent “disease” facing humanity. The Reformers picked this line of reasoning up.

2) Substitution of the Christological gifts of Isaiah 11 for the 1 Corinthians 12 list: Around the same time, clergy began to teach regularly on the gifts in Isaiah 11:2-3. The Isaiah list (wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, knowledge, piety, and the fear of the Lord) became the standard gift “list” associated with the Christian walk. Though it is difficult to speculate exactly why these gifts were chosen over the 1 Corinthians list, some reasons do come to mind. For one, the Isaiah list prophetically describes the giftings of Christ. The church at this time was highly involved in defining Christology against heretical movements and the Isaiah gifts reflected that concern. Secondly, the gifts in Isaiah had less of a supernatural element to them. Wisdom, for example, has a more natural element to it than say, tongues. Counsel could be gained through interaction with creation – the Augustinian vehicle for God’s self-revelation – as opposed to prophecy which required direct revelation and inner experience. Third, the 1 Corinthians gifts appealed to the direct experience of the individual believer – something most ecclesiastical authorities believed was dangerous, particularly after the Montanism “scare.”

The Isaiah list didn’t replace the 1 Corinthians list overnight. Beginning with the Alexandrian school, spiritual gifts were adapted to accommodate theological beliefs. Origen cited language, wisdom, and knowledge as gifts only available to “worthy receivers.” Ambrose, describing the sacrament of confirmation, emphasized the reception of the “sevenfold gift” – listing the traits of Christ in Isaiah 11. Augustine followed suit. Gregory the Great made this substitution permanent. In his famous Pastoral Rule, Gregory wrote a tremendous amount about love and self-control but steered away from any recognition of the power gifts listed in 1 Corinthians. In his commentary on Job, Gregory explained that the seven gifts act as armor against spiritual attack and other evils. In a homily on Pentecost, Gregory specifically addressed the gifts in 1 Corinthians, but in the postbiblical age, he stated they are considered the gift of the clergy alone. Parishioners would do better to focus on the seven gifts that promote fruitful Christian living rather than power gifts that could possibly lead to pride.

We find the consummation of the allegorical and sevenfold gift traditions in the Reformed tradition. Luther’s German translation of the hymn, Veni Creator Spiritus, while referencing the seven gifts, allegorically interprets the gift of tongues as preaching: “You are with sevenfold gifts/The finger of God’s right hand/You deliver the Father’s Word speedily/With tongues into all the lands.”  These ideas are still reflected in Reformed theology today.

I’ll discuss issues 3 and 4 tomorrow…

Confessions of an Open Theist, Part 4: Challies’ Challenge

For this final post, I want to interact with Tim Challies’ comments on open theism here. As I said back in the introductory post, my goal is not to “prove” Tim wrong. But I do want to point out some common assumptions and conclusions about open theism that cause much misunderstanding. Tim states that freedom “trumps” omniscience and uses a definition that describes open theism as “sub-Christian.” I think terms like these are overly-aggressive and I get the feeling that this article has no intention of displaying “both sides” of the debate. Yet, those of the Reformed persuasion like Tim are quick to point out how their own theology is rarely given fair representation or explained fully. Let me try to bring some balance to the descriptions of open theism in Tim’s article.

1. In open theism, God’s greatest attribute is love and it overshadows his other attributes. 

Open theists don’t believe God’s greatest attribute is love. They believe God is love. All other attributes flow from his love and seek to sustain and support the nature of God as a relational being. Humans make this mistake often in describing love as an attribute - to us, attributes sound like an object we can hold in our hand…apples, for example. We can hold several attributes at a time but when “forced” to choose one, we must let another one go. Our arms are not big enough to hold them all. If love is merely an attribute (as Tim suggests), we conclude that God chooses love over/against other attributes. And that causes us to assume that God has to let, say, “judgment” fall to the side…or in this case “omniscience” or “sovereignty” to embrace love. We do the same with the cross – we act like God “shelved” mercy for a little while so he could pour out wrath. But God’s arms can hold them all. They are not mutually exclusive and therefore, to champion God’s nature of love is not calling for sovereignty’s defeat. If this distinction is not made, then we feel we must defend one aspect of God’s character over another. Comments about a loving God being a “pansy” come from this shallow understanding of God’s attributes. And that is truly the definition of anthropomorphic.

3. In open theism, God is unable to see what depends on the choices of free will agents…

I don’t think this is accurate for open theism either. God could see or could deduce from probability what outcomes exist in the future.  He chooses not to do so. Why? Because he voluntarily leverages that ability for the sake of love and freedom. Are there other scenarios that might allow for full disclosure of the future? I imagine so. But in open theism, power is leveraged to express love. God is not “bound” by cosmic laws that forbid him to see. That would make him dependent on creation – something no open theist would ever say. Rather, it’s a voluntary gesture of his goodness and co-habitation with his creation that makes free will fully authentic.

5. In open theism, God learns.

This is a stretch. It conjures up images in my mind of some sort of Hegelian Weltgiest, bobbing from side to side in dialectical fashion, bumbling through time. Silliness. God is fully aware of the range of decisions that are available in each scenario. His choice to allow free will to exist and allow our decisions to impact his relational goals for creation is not weakness. It’s a sign of strength. No one but God could allow the complexity of life to remain intact and still bring about his intentions within it. Just because we can’t doesn’t mean that God can’t.

6. In open theism, God is reacting.

Once again, the inference is that this is some sign of divine weakness. Reactive is not the right word. Responding is. God responds to our decisions after he initiates relationship. In fact, there would be no chance for relational involvement with him unless he first moved in a proactive fashion. From there, in the midst of established relationship, God invites our involvement in the world. That’s not weakness. It’s grace. As his beloved, our involvement affirms our importance to the God of the universe. Don’t think this is a good idea? Ask any married person what they think of a spouse who refuses to involve them in shared life. To expect the relationship, but provide nothing with which to nurture that relationship, is to sabotage the whole affair.

7. and 8. In open theism, God makes mistakes…God can and does make errors in judgment which later require re-evaluation…When God realizes He has made an error in judgment or that things did not unfold as He supposed, He can change His mind. 

I take issue with anyone who speaks of God so irreverently for the sake of vilifying a theological position. Tim does this to create outrage in the reader anticipating that they well reject open theism. God does not make mistakes or errors, get caught in his stupidity, and “re-evaluate” where he went wrong. What’s the missing ingredient in Tim’s recipe? Hope. God has hope that even in the most dire of circumstances, humanity will choose “life” over “death.” God bets against the odds in every scenario where the least sliver of optimism still remains. With God having full knowledge of one’s heart, he is not the least bit “surprised” or duped by the decisions of humans to serve their own interests. But part of love is to “keep no record of wrong.” Therefore, God will forever choose to believe the best of those he loves. Openness to the failures of others, does not require the ignorance of the posibility that good will still be done in the end. Bible passages that explain God’s grief are not describing a grief of ignorance, but the grief of a broken heart that sees us make wrong choices. That’s like saying a father who expresses grief over a child who becomes a drug addict had no idea that drugs existed. The grief is for the child, not over shock at the existence of drugs. Tim makes this same mistake when he quotes Boyd and describes God as a ”God who sorrows over decisions He has made as He is genuinely saddened by the results of His poor decision.” God is not grieving over his own stupidity. He’s grieving over “the destruction of his own creation” – exactly as Boyd says.

After dealing with his main concerns, Tim gives us his summary thoughts. My responses follow each point:

“Needless to say, I find this doctrine wholly incompatible with our knowledge of God as presented in His Word.”

See part 1. I think this one is still up for debate.

 “While open theism contradicts the understanding of God in every Judeo-Christian tradition, it is most completely at-odds with the Reformed understanding, which teaches the highest view of God’s foreknowledge and sovereignty.” 

Trust me - from a church history guy, this isn’t the case. Every century of church history has included well-known ministers, philosophers, and theologians that have held an “open view.” Open theists have compiled lists of adherents for you to review in their books and on their websites. At-odds with the Reformed understanding? Absolutely. But the belief that Reformed theology takes the “highest” view of foreknowledge and sovereignty is also open to debate. Many would say that open theism’s view of sovereignty is stronger and more informed (see posts 2 and 3).

“ This doctrine undermines our confidence in God and erodes our trust in His promises that He always has our best interests in mind. It is a dangerous, pernicious doctrine.”

Ahhh, Tim. Such hostility. Others feel differently. Though Tim encourages you to read Bruce Ware, an opponent of the open view, my studies have taught me that to understand a particular view of any sort, it’s best to go to the sources themselves. Within open theists’ own words, you can hear their struggle to overcome the persecution of peers and see their belief that they are doing something good for Christianity. I’ve seen similar resolve in the writings of Luther, Tertullian, Bernard of Clairvaux, Calvin, Wesley, Bonhoeffer, Schaeffer, and others. Maybe we’ll be saying the same thing about open theists one say.

Confessions of an Open Theist, Introduction

I am an open theist. I never meant for this to happen. It just did.

What is open theism, you say? Well, most opponents will tell you that it has to do with denying God’s omniscience where future events are concerned. But to me, that’s just a byproduct of the real issue: stripping Christianity of static attributes of God that would hinder a relational approach to him. God created humans to interact in a give and take relationship. It’s God’s constant love that allows his will to be accomplished in a cooperative style. For many classical theists, God’s power/control is definitive. For open theists, that power is leveraged for the sake of love: God’s central defining attribute.

My first encounter with open theism came in Robert Picirilli’s Grace, Faith and Free Will – an otherwise excellent book. He used vitriolic language like: “deformed, shallow, and careless ” to describe this newfangled heresy lingering in theological shadows converting the beguiled to “neo-Arminian” beliefs. I have since read words like those of Steve Farrar: “Open Theists are people who edit the Bible like it’s a Microsoft Word document.” Any supporting evidence to this claim in Farrar’s popular parenting book? Nope. Just his opinion, dangling out there in self-appointed authority.

Over the next four posts, I’d like to share how I came to embrace open theism. The first post will deal with the biblical text. The second with pastoral/practical reasons for adopting open theism. Thirdly, I’ll deal with changes in the landscape of science and how that affirms the open view. Finally, I’ll interact with Tim Challies’ article on open theism. I chose his for several reasons: 1) he is a noted blogger, 2) his criticisms of the open view are fairly common ones, 3) he assigns particular motives to the writings of open theists, and 4) Tim, though I’m sure he is a nice person, has built his internet presence on providing “discernment” for the curious. This means, of course, if a belief/worldview doesn’t conform to particular set of doctrinal guidelines, Tim’s gonna do you a favor and tell you it’s not good for you. To be sure, I’m not going to attack or debate Tim’s views – he’s welcome to believe whatever draws him closer to Jesus. I will merely use it as a reference when discussing my journey towards open theism.

Now, just a word about “heresy.” Open theism is not “heresy.” I’ve spent the better part of this decade studying the history of mentalities and anyone who uses the term “heresy” to describe open theism has not done their research. That’s also a quick way to get your comments “unapproved.” Open theism is, however, heterodox. Now, that doesn’t mean “wrong.” It means presently outside of full mainstream acceptance. Any evangelical historian worth their salt will tell you that “orthodox” simply means the “majority opinion” – it doesn’t necessarily mean that the majority opinion is “correct,” though it certainly can. So, many of the “orthodox” opinions we hold today were at one time heterodox, until enough people accepted them. No matter what mainstream religious group you belong to, you can thank your original leaders for being persistent in the face of opposition and charges of heresy from the mainstrean religion of the time. Otherwise, your denomination (or Christianity for that matter) would have been stamped out long ago in the name of “sound doctrine.” What people called “deformed, shallow, and careless ” then, we call “normal” now. The same is true with open theism. Questions of omniscience do not send anyone to hell. We are talking about the religion that took several hundred years to hash out Christ’s divine nature, for Pete’s sake!

This series of posts will not be a polemical treatise - they are autobiographical. You are certainly welcome to interact with them (in fact, I encourage discussion), but please understand that the spiritual journey of a brother in Christ resides within them. Heck, I may even change my mind one day. For the record, that’s okay. I also won’t be spending much time discussing philosophical issues (i.e. panentheism, compatibilism, etc.) though I am willing to address those issues in the comment section as necessary. I hope that this series will answer some questions for those who are curious. My goal is to share my journey and encourage you to take your own. Don’t take my word for it, read authors on both sides with an open (no pun intended) spirit…and then, you and the Holy Spirit can make a decision together.