Work the Pictures

rootsOne thing I appreciate about Calvin the Exegete is his ability to work a metaphor. As good as he was at tracing a logical argument, drawing together variegated texts into a unified whole, he also had a deep appreciation for the pictures that Scripture uses to teach us. Not only does he understand and note them, he expands them and fills them out to great pastoral effect.

We can see him at work in his commentary on the Colossians. Paul is exhorting the Colossians early in chapter two to remain grounded firmly in the tradition that they were taught by Epaphras. False teachers were aiming to steal Christ from them, so Paul mixes three metaphors to paint a portrait of what faithful holding the true doctrine of Christ. Calvin draws them out for us:

  1. The first is in the word walk. For he compares the pure doctrine of the gospel, as they had learned it, to a way that is sure, so that if any one will but keep it he will be beyond all danger of mistake. He exhorts them, accordingly, if they would not go astray, not to turn aside from the course on which they have entered.
  2. The second is taken from trees. For as a tree that has struck its roots deep has a sufficiency of support for withstanding all the assaults of winds and storms, so, if any one is deeply and thoroughly fixed in Christ, as in a firm root, it will not be possible for him to be thrown down from his proper position by any machinations of Satan. On the other hand, if any one has not fixed his roots in Christ, he will easily be “carried about with every wind of doctrine”, (Ephesians 4:14,) just as a tree that is not supported by any root.
  3. The third metaphor is that of a foundation, for a house that is not supported by a foundation quickly falls to ruins. The case is the same with those who lean on any other foundation than Christ, or at least are not securely founded on him, but have the building of their faith suspended, as it were, in the air, in consequence of their weakness and levity.

Commentary on Colossians 2:6-7

So, we are to be keep to the path, in order to stay rooted, so we can be built up into Christ. Calvin takes each of those metaphors here and lets them have their full force, not letting the reader simply skim on by as we’re wont to do. No, instead, we are shown a safe path, a solidly-rooted tree, and a building which nothing can shake. Scripture’s metaphors are now engraved on our minds–or at least held more concretely than before.

Preachers of God’s word should take note here: work the pictures. Don’t rush past them to make some logical, structural point, but play with the images that the Word gives us–then make the point.

I’m not simply saying we should be like Calvin.  Calvin knew what the authors of scripture knew: that God uses these metaphors, these pictures, to capture our imagination in a way that, by the Spirit, our faith is actually increased and maintained. We are affective-imaginative-rational beings who can’t simply hear a logical point, we need to be immersed in it. Our minds and hearts need to have Scripture painted on their walls and windows, so that looking out at the world is like starting through a stained-glass window.

Scripture wouldn’t be so jam-packed with living, breathing images, like bees in a hive, if there weren’t some purpose to them. For preachers, they’re there to be used, to stir up the faith of our hearers to trust more deeply in the Christ whom they heard preach. That’s what Paul did, Calvin after him, and, if we’re smart, we will do too.

Soli Deo Gloria

“No One Knows the Day or Hour”–Why Keep it a Secret?

secretIn the Gospels Jesus tells us that no one knows the day or the hour of his coming, not even the Son himself (Matthew 24:36), and a good many of us have often wondered why. Why would Jesus keep us in the dark about that sort of thing? It seems awfully important and helpful information to know. In fact, some of us are so curious we try to figure it out anyway, despite Jesus’ warning.

It turns out that people in the early church were curious about those verses as well, but for different reasons. The Arians were in the habit of pointing to it as evidence that Jesus wasn’t divine and coeternal with the Father. How could he be if he didn’t know at what time these things had been ordained to pass? Athanasius has no patience for this and points out, again, that we need to think more deeply about what it means for the Son to take on flesh. He not only assume a human body, but human weakness, hunger, exhaustion, and yes, even ignorance at times. While he knows these things according to his divinity, in the economy he accepted a properly human ignorance for our sakes.

As it happens, though, in answering a Christological challenge, Athanasius sheds some light on another question, like, for instance, why God doesn’t tell us the final day and hour. He gives us two good reasons:

  1. “For it is profitable to you to hear so much [that the Son doesn’t even know] both of the Angels and of the Son, because of the deceivers which shall be afterwards; that though demons should be transfigured as Angels, and should attempt to speak concerning the end, you should not believe, since they are ignorant; and that, if Antichrist too, disguising himself, should say, ‘I am Christ,’ and should try in his turn to speak of that day and end, to deceive the hearers, ye, having these words from Me, ‘No, not the Son,’ may disbelieve him also.
  2. And further, not to know when the end is, or when the day of the end, is expedient for man, lest knowing, they might become negligent of the time between, awaiting the days near the end; for they will argue that then only must they attend to themselves. Therefore also has He been silent of the time when each shall die, lest men, being elated on the ground of knowledge, should forthwith neglect themselves for the greater part of their time…For who, knowing the day of the end, would not be dilatory with the interval? but, if ignorant, would not be ready day by day? It was on this account that the Saviour added, ‘Watch therefore, for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come;’ and, ‘In such an hour as ye think not, the Son of man cometh.’ For the advantage then which comes of ignorance has He said this; for in saying it, He wishes that we should always be prepared;”

Four Discourses Against the Arians, 3.49

Jesus wants us to be able to tell false prophets from the true Word of God, and he wants us to be prepared. He knows the schemes of the enemy as well as our weakness, so he gives us protection and encouragement.

These might not be the only reasons God holds back a knowledge of the day and hour of his return, but it’s a good place to start. Quit trying to peer into the day or hour God has appointed by his secret plan, but rather prepare yourself to live at all times in light of his coming, whether it is 2 days or 200 years away.

Soli Deo Gloria

Careful Reader

close readingCareful readers of Scripture see instruction in every turn of phrase. That’s how Calvin read the text. Trained as a humanist scholar, he was attentive to both the content as well as the form in which we receive it. Actually, more accurately, he understood that the way the authors said something was part of what they were saying. Commenting on Paul’s greeting to the Colossians, Calvin draws out the significance of his prayer of thanksgiving for the believers:

He praises the faith and love of the Colossians, that it may encourage them the more to alacrity and constancy of perseverance. Farther, by shewing that he has a persuasion of this kind respecting them, he procures their friendly regards, that they may be the more favourably inclined and teachable for receiving his doctrine. We must always take notice that he makes use of thanksgiving in place of congratulation, by which he teaches us, that in all our joys we must readily call to remembrance the goodness of God, inasmuch as everything that is pleasant and agreeable to us is a kindness conferred by him. Besides, he admonishes us, by his example, to acknowledge with gratitude not merely those things which the Lord confers upon us, but also those things which he confers upon others.

Commentary on Colossians 1:3

He notes first the rhetorical purpose of the greeting: to encourage his readers to faith and perseverance and endear himself to the readers at Colossae by assuring him of his warm affections for them. Calvin reads the text understanding that, though inspired and having apostolic authority, Paul writes at the human level as one who still uses common language, specific rhetorical forms, and rational approach to persuade his reader.

Next, and this is the significant portion, Calvin calls attention to the fact that when Paul wants to encourage them, he doesn’t congratulate them, he thanks God for them. Calvin not only sees what he says, but what he doesn’t say. Typically we would congratulate someone on their faith, hope, and love. Not Paul—he knows the true source of our goodness. Instead, Paul thanks God to acknowledge the theological reality that all blessings come from comes from his fatherly hand. Not only that, it points to a brotherly love grateful even for those things which don’t come directly to us. Again, even the shape of his encouragement is pedagogical.

Calvin was not a cursory or careless reader, and just as Paul teaches us in the way he encourages the Colossians, so Calvin gives us an example in our studies of the Word. Convinced that we are reading more than just an ancient text, but God’s own self-disclosure through human speech, we read that human speech with reverent sensitivity to every detail.

Soli Deo Gloria 

The God-Shaped Box of Scripture

cardboard_boxI’ve already reviewed Matthew Lee Anderson’s excellent little book, The End of Our Exploring at Christ and Pop Culture. One of my favorite sections in the work is his critique of clichés in Christian discourse. CThey stop thought, end discussion, and function as a short-cuts to truth that prevent us from actually engaging with the difficult questions involved with God and life.

In the midst of this discussion, he manages to dispatch one particular cliché that, whenever I encounter it, something in me dies just a little:

One of my “favorite” clichés is that we “shouldn’t put God in a box.” That may be true on one level. But what if God has put Himself in a box, like a Scripture-shaped box? What then? Is the problem the box or the shape? If it was a circle-box that were infinitely large, could God fit inside of it? What if we have to be able to say this and not that of something in order to know it? If we say “God doesn’t judge,” does that put God in a box? (Yes, I just dropped one cliché against the other.) If God isn’t in a box, even a Jesus-shaped box, can we know Him? Does God know He lacks a box? Is He able to communicate to His creatures the shape of a box He could fit in? I think the cliché means something like “God is ineffable,” a beautiful word that simply means “beyond speech.” But does God have a language for His own ineffability? Can He teach it to us? That is a barrage of questions, I realize, but they come like a flood every time I hear someone say not to “put God in a box.” I don’t know the answers, but I do know that the cliché short-circuits the process of finding them. The cliché is of the soul-shrinking, mind-denying variety.

The End of Our Exploring: A Book about Questioning and the Confidence of Faith, pg. 130

What if God has put himself in a ‘box’ indeed? What if the unknown and unknowable God wants to be known and does something about it like engaging with a particular people throughout history? Maybe he reveals his character through great and mighty acts? Or becomes incarnate and walks among us? Or maybe he does all of those things and has the whole thing written up in Text so that we could know something about him? Is it arrogant to take him at his word? Is it presumptious to say God is X, if God has told us he is X? More importantly, is it presumptious to say, even with the intention of being humble, that we can’t know that God is X, if he has told us he is?

I’m all for proclaiming God’s incomprehensibility and the necessary gap in our knowledge of God. Still, these are some questions to think about before you too quickly complain about putting God in a box–it might be one he chose for himself.

Also, go buy the book.

Soli Deo Gloria

Proverbs for Facebook, Twitter, and Blogs

bloggingIronically enough, the week I taught my students about the importance of wise words, I witnessed a number of online brouhahas caused/exacerbated mostly by a foolish use of words. Of course, I could write that about any week as the internet is frequently a horrible place, filled with foolishness, rash language, and “cursing” of all sorts, including the ‘Christian’ wings of it.

As one who’s played the part of the fool far too often in these fracases, I thought it might be helpful apply a few, fairly obvious, but frequently forgotten, proverbs on the wise use of speech for those of us inhabiting Facebook, the blogosophere, and yes, the Twittersphere. Who knows what a little ancient wisdom can do for our modern communication techniques?:

You can watch me break down these proverbs HERE at Christ and Pop Culture.

The Order Doesn’t Matter Because a Painting is All We Need

Why?  Why not?

Why?
Why not?

Anybody who’s given the Gospel accounts more than a cursory reading knows that there are apparent inconsistencies between them. Were there one or two angels at the tomb when Jesus arose? Did the Transfiguration happen 6 or 8 days after his teaching on  the cost of discipleship? Issues like these have motivated theologians and biblical scholars to write works of apologetics and “harmonies” of the Gospels reconciling these issues. Sometimes the answers work quite well and other times you end up with “solutions” that are worse than the problem they’re trying to explain.

Now, most of us might suspect that the older an author, the more conservative and likely to try and come up with an answer, no matter how odd, in order to “cover” for the Gospel-writers. That’s why it was funny to run across this little tidbit in Calvin’s Harmony of the Law on the temptation accounts. When you read the accounts in Matthew and Luke, you see that the order of the temptations is switched up. How does Calvin account for this?:

It is not of great importance, that Luke’s narrative makes that temptation to be the second, which Matthew places as the third: for it was not the intention of the Evangelists to arrange the history in such a manner, as to preserve on all occasions, the exact order of time, but to draw up an abridged narrative of the events, so as to present, as in a mirror or picture, those things which are most necessary to be known concerning Christ. Let it suffice for us to know that Christ was tempted in three ways. The question, which of these contests was the second, and which was the third, need not give us much trouble or uneasiness. In the exposition, I shall follow the text of Matthew.

Harmony of the Law, Matthew 4:5-11; Mark 1:13; Luke 4:5-13

Long before modern historical and literary critics came on the scene, Calvin knew that we must not impose modern standards of historiography on the Gospel writers. Their intent was not to give us a perfect blow-by-blow, video-camera-replacing description, but to give us those things “most necessary” for us to know about Jesus’ saving ministry. This isn’t imputing error or falsehood to them, but recognizing the nature the of the account they’re trying to provide. It’s no insult to recognize a wonderful painting for what it is; the problem comes when you’re expecting an HD photograph. God has given us what he knows we need in his Word, not what we think we need.

Soli Deo Gloria

7 Reasons God Might Not Heal Somebody

healingFor about two and half years now, I’ve had something wrong with my joints and muscles. It started with tendon pain in my knees, then later I had abdominal/hip issues, which then shifted to a shoulder condition, eventually leading to chest muscle pain, and recently to pelvic alignment problems. I’m not quite 27 yet, but the running joke among my college students is that I’m a broken old man. I’ve had five different physical therapists and chiropractors over the last two years and a number of other doctors treat me. Fun stuff.

Now, I’ve prayed, I’ve gone to doctors, changed up my practices, and for some reason it just seems like one thing after another keeps coming up. I know this isn’t the greatest tragedy in the world; we have members in our congregation and friend in our lives who have struggled through much worse. Still, there have been times when I’ve wondered, “God, what are you doing? Why haven’t you healed me yet? I know you can.” For some reason I have hope and confidence that this is not a permanent thing (even though for many it is), but there have been times that I’ve just struggled with the question of why God continues to leave me unhealed–or, for as long as he has, at least.*

That’s why I was particularly interested in reading Sam Storm’s chapter “Why Doesn’t God Always Heal the Sick?” in his new book Tough Topics: Biblical Answers to 25 Challenging Questions. I had my own range of responses to the issue, but I wanted to see what someone who had actually devoted some research to the question had to say.

7 (Possible) Reasons
Storms is quick to recognize that there is some level of mystery involved in the issue of healing, and certainly with respect to God’s will for individual lives. He makes a point of saying that not every case where you know who remains unhealed can be quickly chalked up to one of these reasons. That said, Storms gives 7 possible reasons someone might not be healed.

  1. Faith – As much as this reason has been abused, “we must be willing to acknowledge that occasionally healing does not occur because of the absence of that sort of faith God delights to honor.” (pg. 304) Faith as small as a mustard-seed can be sufficient, but there are a number of cases in the NT seem to suggest that lack of faith can be a factor. (Matthew 9:22, 28-29; 15:28; Mark 2:5, 11; Luke 17:19; Acts 3:16)
  2. Sin – Again, not everyone who isn’t healed is being punished for some specific sin. Jesus rebuts too simple a one-to-one relationship between particular sickness and particular sin (John 9). And yet, as Storms notes, “James 5:15-16 clearly instructs us to confess our sins to one another and pray for one another that we may be healed.” (pg. 305) Sometimes it is the case that unconfessed sin might be holding back God’s hand of healing.
  3. Desire – This is an odd one, but Storms notes that sometimes people actually don’t want to be healed. They have lived with their illness and the lifestyle associated with it for so long, it’s terrifying to think of life without it. A person’s identity can be so wrapped up in it, fearful that the love and care they receive as someone who is ill will suddenly disappear, that healing actually sounds threatening. (pg. 305)
  4. Ask Not – James 4:2 says, “you do not have, because you do not ask.” Storms writes, “The simple fact is that some are not healed because they do not pray.” (pg. 306) Sometimes we really just don’t ask and so God doesn’t give.
  5. Oppression – Healing is often-times blocked because “the demonic cause of the affliction has not been addressed.” (pg. 306) Though not every sickness is attributable to demonic influence, according to the NT some is (Luke 13:16), and when that cause is not attended to, healing may be prevented.
  6. Providence – It would be a serious oversight not to consider the fact that God has plans for history, many of which we simply have no access to, nor could we understand if we did. Storms reminds us that we shouldn’t think healing and sickness is only area where God’s will for our lives must be utterly transparent. To claim that we know what God always does in a particular type of situation, like sickness, is arrogantly claiming knowledge we couldn’t possibly have.
  7. Something Better – “…healing the sick is a good thing (and we should never cease to pray for it), but often there is a better thing that can be attained only by means of physical weakness.” (pg. 307) In our health-obsessed culture, this might sound ridiculous, but God is often more concerned with healing our spiritual infirmities than our physical ones. Sometimes he does so through illnesses which humble us, force us to rely on him, and conform us to the image of Christ. (2 Cor. 4:16-18) For those who think it contrary to God’s goodness to let any of his children suffer in sickness, they ought to consider their response to the fact that God’s goodness allows his saints to suffer persecution, and indeed, ordained the suffering of his own Son for the salvation of the world. (1 Peter 4)

Summing Up
Again, all of these points can be expanded upon and nuanced–as they were in the book. It also might be noted that all of these reasons could only extend for a certain amount of time. Oppression need not last and spiritual lessons might eventually be learned. None of these reasons should be taken as an excuse for prayerlessness, or used to insensitively condemn those already suffering; they should be used (with wisdom) to encourage and comfort.

For myself, I have been challenged and comforted by a number of those reasons in my own walk–or lack of walking, at times–through illness. Few things have led me to embrace God’s Fatherly hand as the source of all things, working them for my good and his glory, than my illnesses. I have never had to rely on him, pray to him, and see him as my deepest strength as I did during those times when it hurt to stand, walk, or even sit for more than 5 minutes. I don’t know when this will “end”, if it ever will, how much it has to do with spiritual attack, spiritual formation, or just a providence beyond my ken. I know I’ll keep praying, asking him to grow me through this, increase my strength, cleanse my heart, protect me from attack, and (imperfectly) trusting that God has his good reasons. I pray that for those of you suffering with illnesses, these meditations would encourage you to the same.

Soli Deo Gloria

*Just to make it clear, there has been some improvement of late with certain treatments, but no radical healing. I’m not languishing here, immobilized for those who might be concerned. Prayers are appreciated, though!

Who Adopts Us in Salvation?

The FatherIt was in seminary that I began to appreciate the significance of adoption as a distinct moment in our salvation. Even greater than our justification, being declared and thereby rendered righteous with God the King, is being received by grace into his family as beloved children. It is as children that we call out ‘Abba, Father’ and approach the throne of grace with full confidence, knowing that the King of Glory delights to hear our prayers.

The question I had in seminary was, “Who exactly am I adopted by? Is it by the Father, or the whole Trinity?” I initially believed it to be the Father as I understood adoption to occur through union with Christ the Son into his relationship with the Father. Upon hearing me express this view, one of my professors quickly corrected me and warned against introducing a split in the Trinity. To him, it is only proper to attribute adoption to the whole Trinity.  Since that time I’ve gone back and forth, but have come to the conclusion that my initial instincts were correct.

Two principles of trinitarian theology have guided me:

  • First, that although the external acts of the Trinity are undivided, the persons are still to be distinguished. In other words, the Trinity acts in a trinitarian fashion. It’s not that the Father creates, the Son saves, and the Spirit does, whatever he does. Instead, the early church fathers would say that more properly the Father creates, redeems, and sanctifies through the Son and the Spirit. In every action, the whole Trinity is involved.
  • Second, the complementary doctrine of appropriations teaches that, although the work of the Trinity is undivided, it is still fitting to attribute certain graces and actions more properly to a particular person. So, for instance, although the Father and the Spirit are involved, only the Son is properly said to become incarnate. Only the Son is born of a virgin, dies, and rises again, and so forth, even though they happen at the command of the Father in the power of the Spirit.

With these two principles in place, we are in a position to appreciate John Murray’s biblical arguments in Redemption Accomplished and Applied for thinking it is the Father who adopts us, although he does this through the Son and the Spirit:

  1. The first and simplest is that the name “Father” belongs to the first person of the Trinity, just as “the Son” is the second, and the “Holy Spirit” is the third. Jesus directed his prayers to the Father, and he is the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. (pg. 137)
  2. In John 20:17, Jesus tells Mary Magdalene that he is not yet “ascended to the Father”, clearly referring to the first person, before going on “My Father and your Father, My God and your God.” (pp. 137-138)
  3. In a very similar point, Murray points out that Jesus’ frequent prayer to his “Father in heaven”, or some similar form of address. He also directs his disciples to pray to their Father in heaven, implying that the same divine person is in view. (pg. 138)
  4. In the New Testament, the term “Father” is the personal name of the first person of the Trinity. The Father is often called “the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom. 15:6; 2 Cor. 1:3; 11:31; Eph. 1:3; Col. 1:3; 1 Pet. 1:3). The phrase “God the Father” also must refer to him (Gal. 1:1; Eph. 6:23; Phil. 2:11; 1 Thes. 1:1; 2 Thess. 1:2; 1 Tim. 1:2; 2 Tim. 1:2; Tit. 1:4; 1 Pet. 1:2; 2 Pet. 1:17; 2 John 3; Jude 1; Rev. 1:6) In almost all of these passages the Father is clearly not referring to the Son or the Spirit. From there Murray says that it is important to observe that “when God is called the Father of believers we have close similarity of expression” to the point where it is an unavoidable conclusion that the same person of the Trinity is being referred to. Again, in places like Romans 1:7 where the phrase “peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ” is used, both persons are mentioned and distinguished, while one is named “our Father.” (cf. 1 Cor. 1:3; 2 Cor. 1:2; Gal. 1:3; Eph. 1:2; Phil. 1:2; Philemon 3)

For these reasons it seems Biblically-appropriate to understand ourselves to have been adopted through the mediatorial work of the Son and the gift of the Spirit into the Father’s family by grace. This is good news. As Murray writes:

Could anything disclose the marvel of adoption or certify the security of its tenure and privilege more effectively than the fact that the Father himself, on account of whom are all things and through whom are all things, who made the captain of salvation perfect through suffering becomes by deed of grace the Father of the many sons whom he will bring to glory? (pg. 140)

Soli Deo Gloria

Perfection And Incarnation (Or, Some Thoughts on Zack Hunt’s Imperfect Bible)

Insert stock Bible image here.

Insert stock Bible image here.

The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul; the testimony of the LORD is sure, making wise the simple – (Psalm 19:7)

If you read this blog often, you know I don’t typically pick fights with specific bloggers, or even positions–I generally just like putting forward positive content. I certainly don’t like challenging smart guys like Zack Hunt. I mean dude’s got some theological chops, a big blog, he’s going to Yale, and is a good enough writer to score a book deal; I have a kind of ugly-but-functional blog my mom reads and a poorly-followed Twitter account. Still he wrote a piece over at Red Letter Christians on the inerrancy or rather, non-inerrancy, of the Bible that I found interesting and worth examining. Also, I was kind of bored.

His basic argument, as far as I followed it, was that the reason he believed the Bible isn’t perfect is because the Bible itself told him so. Also, nobody believed in its ‘inerrancy’ until like, 150 years ago. Or something like that.

If I had to boil down the argument into one quote, it’d probably be this chunk right here:

Do you remember the other big moment when we read about something being “God-breathed” in scripture? Sure you do. We find it in the very beginning, in Genesis chapter 2 verse 7 when God took the dust of the ground and breathed life into it to create humanity.

In that moment God breathed something into existence…..which wasn’t perfect. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t God.

Because scripture is also “God-breathed” it means it too isn’t God. Nor does it even come directly from God, but instead it passes through an intermediary. In the beginning, the intermediary between us and God was dirt. God breathed into it and the result was that we were created.

In the case of the Bible, God breathed His truth into the hearts and minds of people and the result was that the Bible was created. But like that ancient dirt that gave birth to us, the people who wrote the Bible, God’s intermediaries, weren’t perfect. Which is why Paul says “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known.”

Hunt then goes on to affirm that we can basically trust the Bible because, even though Noah probably didn’t get all those animals on the boat, we can still believe what the story is trying to teach: God will take care of us in the storms. We don’t need something to be inerrant or “perfect” for it to convey truth, it just needs to be honest enough. A basically truthful message doesn’t need to keep all the details straight for it to be correct and trustworthy. That’s what faith is about–kinda like with your parents, you trust it even when you have some doubts about it. Holding out for some theoretical inerrancy that doesn’t fit the text itself isn’t faith, but a fearful struggle to control the divine.

Now, on the issue of faith and I’d simply note that Karl Barth had some different ideas than Paul Tillich which are worth considering. The historical point, I will leave to others to debate without comment as well. I think there is definitely something to the idea that testimony can be essentially reliable while a couple of minor details are crossed. I’m not saying that’s what’s happening in the Bible, but I think it’s important to affirm valid points when you see them.

On his argument about perfection I do have a few thoughts, though.

To be clear at the outset, I’m not going to argue in detail for some particular view of inerrancy or infallibility simply because, to be honest, it’s a short blog so there isn’t time. I do think it’s helpful to point out that there are varying views as to what constitutes inerrancy such as the Chicago Statement (which has multiple interpretations), Old Princetonian articulations, and other more rigid views. It’d probably be helpful to define it, but since Hunt doesn’t and it won’t affect my argument, I’ll leave it be. For the curious, whatever Kevin Vanhoozer says, I’m right around there.

What I do want is to briefly, and incompletely, examine a few of the basic components or assumptions in the argument forwarded by Hunt, in no particular order.

It’s Not God, But it is His Work

As Hunt astutely points out, the Bible is not God, but is “God-breathed” (theopneustos). So, it’s wrong to attribute to the Bible all of God’s perfections. Only God is immortal, immutable, eternal, all-powerful, and so forth. The Bible is not these things and to say that it is, is a sort of idolatry that ignores the fact that it is clearly a human book that “was written by people”; humans who left their individual marks on the texts they produced.

Now, to begin, I’d just like to note that the proponents of inerrancy that I know of would easily confess this. For instance, Old Princeton theologian B.B. Warfield, truly old-school on inerrancy, makes a big deal about the way Paul’s letters bear his distinctive stamp–they have the unique marks of his very human personality, thought, and history. And yet, Warfield still affirms that they are God’s works and are to be identified with him. In other words, he ascribes to a view of dual authorship whereby, without violating creaturely freedom and contingency, God somehow brings it about that Paul writes what he wanted him to write; even though they’re human words, it doesn’t prevent them from somehow being divine ones as well. That’s why Jesus can say “it is written”, and Paul can quote the OT and say “Scripture says”, as if it were equivalent to “God says.”

Warfield writes:

When the Christian asserts his faith in the divine origin of his Bible, he does not mean to  deny that it was composed and written by men or that it was given by men to the world. He believes that the marks of its human origin are ineradicably stamped on every page of the whole volume. He means to state only that it is not merely human in its origin…

The Scriptures, in other words, are conceived by the writers of the New Testament as through and through God’s book, in every part expressive of His mind, given through men after a fashion which does no violence to their nature as men, and constitutes the book also men’s book as well as God’s, in every part expressive of the mind of its human authors.

In which case, it’s not quite as simple as distinguishing Creator from creation then, because the two are related. The integrity and characteristics of the one speaks to the ability of the other.

“God-Breathed Humans” and Types of Perfection

Hunt also points out that the other thing we read in Scripture was God-breathed were humans–and they clearly weren’t perfect, just good. Cutting off a quick objection, he says we can’t simply point to the Fall either and say, “Well, we were and then we became sinful.” The Bible only says that we were very good, and yet clearly we were capable of temptation. I mean, we’re not God, so how could we be perfect? So neither is the Bible.

Now once again, yes, humans are not perfect–certainly not as God is perfect. And yet that isn’t the end of it. You see, we are meant to be perfected in redemption, just as we were meant to be perfected in the Garden. Just as there is an eschatological dimension to our salvation now, there was one then; God had the goal of bringing his “good” creation to a point of perfection. One thing we always forget about the glory of salvation is that one day we will be made like Christ, the perfectly glorified human one, without becoming the Creator. We will be a perfectly redeemed creation. What I’m trying to say is that simply pointing out that the Bible isn’t God, doesn’t mean it can’t be perfect. It means it can’t be perfect in the way God is, but it doesn’t rule out a derivative, analogical sort of perfection–perfect for the sort of thing that it is. Eventually we will be perfect for the sorts of non-divine things we are. It seems at least possible then, for something created, like the Bible, to be perfect in it’s own particular way.

Intermediaries and Incarnation

I’ll be briefer here because this point follows after the others, but Hunt makes something of the Bible coming by way of intermediaries. Just as God used dirt to make humans and so we came out a bit dirty (not in that sense), God used dirty humans to get his message across and they wrote a “dirty”  Bible. It’s good enough, but since it is the work of a human intermediary we shouldn’t expect perfection.

Now, to my mind, it seems relevant that we believe in a Gospel that has the Incarnation right at its center. The Divine Son, takes up humanity in order to perfectly say and do what God says and does in a human way. To put it another way, the man Jesus Christ’s saying and doing is simply God saying and doing as a human. Humanity made in the Image of God, set free from sin, is apparently a fit vehicle for the perfect-but-veiled revelation of God himself in Jesus. I’ll be the first to throw up a big caution before collapsing the Creator/creature distinction, but working from the Incarnation, as unique and unrepeatable as it is, we seem to be presented with the truth that a thing’s non-divinity does not disqualify it as medium of perfect, if limited, revelation.

Now, to be sure, “perfect” does not mean “complete” or “full without remainder.” In that sense, yes, we see “through a glass darkly.” This side of the eschaton we do not know all things, nor do we know them as God does; we should not expect to. We can trust that God has perfectly told us those things we need to know now in order to know God fully then. Incidentally, to use that verse as an argument for the errancy of Scripture is as persuasive exegetically as cessationists’ appeal to it as evidence that the gifts ended when we got the Bible–which is to say, not very much at all because those verses aren’t talking about the Bible.

Again, this isn’t a full response, nor was it intended to be. I’m sure I haven’t convinced anybody as to the inerrancy, non-inerrancy, or infalliblity of the Bible. There are probably 20 different issues I could have brought up that play a role in our understanding of Scripture. I simply wanted to make a few clarifying points with respect to Divine authorship, redemption, and Incarnation that might shed some light on the possibility of the Bible’s “perfection.”

Soli Deo Gloria

Meet the Family

victoria_family_tree_1901Family trees can be fascinating. At some point we all get this itch to find out where we come from, who we are, or whether our ancestry contains some famous personage. We have this sense that knowing our roots says something about who we are; our identity is caught up in our heritage. I know for myself, there’s been a rumor going around that there is some Crusader blood somewhere up the family tree on my mother’s side, the Bendecks. I did some digging online–the kind you can do without paying money for blood tests and all that–and there might be something to it.

John Jefferson Davis points out that this fascination with our ancestry ought to be one more thing driving us to read our Bibles:

How do we understand our fundamental identity and purpose in life as we approach the Scriptures in prayerful meditation? Our sense of personal identity, either conscious or unconsciously presupposed, does influence the way we approach texts. If I am looking at a set of papers and hearing my friend explain her family tree and the fruits of her genealogical research, I may listen with polite and sincer interest; if someone shows me surprising new information about my family tree–that I am descended from some great celebrity from the past–then my interest is even deeper!

The Bible is, in a very real sense, my “family tree.” I read the biblical text not as an outsider but as an insider. Jesus Christ, the central character in the entire biblical narrative is not a stranger to me but–by virtue of my union with him–is my ancestor, my brother, and my beloved friend. “My lover is mine and I am his…His banner over me is love.” (Song 2:16, 4)

Meditation and Communion with God: Contemplating Scripture in an Age of Distraction, pg. 80

This, I think, was one of the advantages of being raised in in Sunday School; I’ve always had a vivid sense that when I was learning the flannel-graph stories about the patriarchs, I was learning something about myself. In ways more subtle than a 2nd grader could grasp, I was being ecclesially and scripturally-formed.

In one sense, I’ve always known that the Bible is not about me. It certainly wasn’t addressed to me when it was written, but the original communities which formed the people of God addressed by the prophets and apostles; my name appears nowhere in the text. At a deeper level though, Scripture is not about somebody else, but intimately involves me because I am united to its main character. Because of that, when I read the genealogy of Christ in Matthew 1, I’m not just reading about Jesus’ royal lineage, but my own. If I am in Christ, then King David is my flawed but glorious grandfather; Ruth is my redeemed pagan grandmother; Jacob is my ingenious but duplicitous forefather. As Paul argues, by faith I am included in the covenant people of God so that I am one of the heirs promised to Abraham (Rom. 4). Because of this, the failures of Israel are my family’s failures as are her glories.

And this is simply one more reason we should want to read our Bibles–it’s how we meet the family.

Soli Deo Gloria