Frank Turner on John Henry Newman

In preparation for teaching in 2010, I have been reading Frank Turner's biography of John Henry Newman. Last year I read Ian Ker's biography, which was as detailed as it was unenlightening- comprehensive, but lacking in insight.

Turner is quite the opposite. He seeks to understand the Newman of the Oxford movement, before his self-justifying autobiography Apologia Pro Vita Sua and his own revisions of his early works. His view is that the early Newman was driven chiefly by a visceral hatred of evangelicalism.

Here is Turner:

Asceticism, not antierastianism, lay at the core of Tractarianism. more than any othe rsingle factor, the desire for the pursuit of obedience through novel, ascetic devotional practices led Newman and the others first to reject evangelical theology as manifested among both Dissenters and fellow members of the Church of England, then to press for a broader reading of the 39 Articles, an dfinally to undertake a monastic experiment with the English Church. (p. 109)

Tractarian hostilty to evangelical teaching on justification by faith, ecclesiology, scripture's authority and assurance were at the centre of the movement, then. Turner reminds us that in Victorian England the evangelical movement was at its height in and out of the established church. It is hard to believe that if you have grown up in the mid/late twentieth century context, in which Liberal Catholic Anglicans convinced the Anglican world that its novelties were traditional and that evangelicalism was aberrant and somehow 'not Anglican'.

Gender and langauge

My recent article on Unleashed prompted some of the most inane commentary I have ever read. I really didn't think the article was that complicated, but the point seems to have eluded most of the commenters.

One person even chided me for using the feminine pronoun in this paragraph:

The scholar with this sort of claim - and believe me, they aren't modest about it - imagines herself sublimely objective in this, uniquely capable of divesting herself of all vestiges of her home culture and its variety of faith.

This was, she claimed, further evidence of Sydney Anglican misogyny. Because I had chosen the feminine pronoun to describe a generic person who I was viewing negatively, ergo, I am being chauvanistic. She said 'gender-neutrality' is the only way forward here.

I accept the diagnosis that gender-specific langauge is problematic and needs to be changed as far as possible, especially in cases where no specific gender is meant. Consistently to say 'he' when I mean 'a person' is not a pratice I wish to continue. I cannot fathom why people insist that their Bible translations continue to display a gender-specificity not found even in the original languages.

However, I don't think gender-neutrality is desirable or even possible. Human beings are gendered! Added to which, the gender-neutral options (h/she, they etc) are clunky. So, my solution - and it is certainly not my original solution - is to alternate 'he' and 'she'. That means that sometimes a 'she' will be a villain. Fair enough?

I have seen this practice in academic writing all over the world, though not universally.

I don't think this will work with 'Man' as a generic term, however. It is still the case that if you said 'Woman' when you meant 'Humankind' you would miscommunicate. And I note that Germaine Greer recently said 'mankind' on TV!

BTW, my absolute pet hate when in comes to prescriptive changes in linguistic usage is the word 'Godself' as the alternative to the reflexive pronoun 'Himself'. It makes me want to barf with the self-conscious holier-than-thou political correctness of it.

The Humanity of God - Karl Barth

What does it mean to speak of 'the humanity of God'? Barth says:

...it is bound to mean God's relation to and turning towards man. It signifies the God who speaks with man in his promise and command. It represents God's existence, intercession, and activity for man, the intercourse God holds with him, and the free grace in which He wills to be and is nothing other than the God of man.

In the nineteenth century, theology spoke rather of the divinity of man. This was disastrous for theology, as it was indeed for the whole culture. In response, the dialectical theology of the 1920s sought to recapture the deity of God - his abosolute otherness and strangeness to humankind. That is: 'God's independence and particular character, no only in relation to the natural but also to the spiritual cosmos; God's absolutely unique existence, might and initiative, above all, in His relation to man.'

If this is to be developed or revised, it is in no way the case that this God-ness of God is to be jettisoned. But Barth admits that it was still the case that in this return to God's deity there was the possibility that all human activity and even existence would be rendered void. What he needed to remember was that God's sovereignty is a matter of God's sovereign togetherness with man - grounded absolutely and utterly in God alone, but a togetherness with man nonetheless. It is precisely God's deity which, rightly understood, includes his humanity.

This is of course a Christological statement. Actually, if we had begun (says Barth) from Christology the problem would have been non-existent. In Christ man and God are not isolated from one another - we see man exalted and God humbled in this one Person. And Jesus Christ is the Revealer of them both - he tells us what, or who, God is, and he also declares what or who Man is. In the existence of Jesus Christ there is no doubt that the priority rests with the free action of God in his condescension. 'Superiority preceding subordination.'

BUT: God's freedom in Jesus Christ is his freedom for love. God's sovereignty is what it is in light of his love for people. 'God's deity is thus no prison in which He can exist only in and for Himself'. [This seems to be counter to the emphasis in some latter US New Calvinist thought, which pictures God as always utterly self-reflexively self-interested.] When we look at Jesus we can see that God's deity includes (therefore) his humanity. In God's deity there is enough room for communion with man. God does not exist without man - not because God has any need for man to be truly God, or because in any sense he exists merely for the human being, but becasue it is in fact the case that he chooses to be with man as his partner.

So: 'in this divinely free volition and election, in this sovereign decision... God is human.'

Imagine no religion

At ABC unleashed - my article.

Let the thing be what it is

Two questions to ask pastors:

1) Why is it that in wedding sermons these days almost no mention is made of marriage and that the wedding sermon is a naked attempt to sneak in an evangelistic talk to the pagan relatives? Isn't this almost entirely counterproduction AND an opportunity to reflect on scripture's teaching about marriage lost? And why does such a sermon have to go for 20+ minutes - it's a wedding for heaven's sake!

2) Why, on the one day of the year that non-church goers venture into a church building, that day when they come in the (it turns out) vain hope that they might get to sing some Christmas carols, do we insist on singing as few Christmas carols as possible? What the?

Lifted by Sam Allberry

A new book has just been published by IVP in the UK on a subject that will immediately interest any Christian.

It’s on the resurrection. It’s called Lifted, and it’s written by Sam Allberry, whom I got to know in Oxford. Sam has had a powerful ministry amongst undergraduates at Oxford University for a number years. And he knows how to cook Thai food like no-one else I know.

Sam hasn’t just written about the details though – about the eyewitnesses and the empty tomb and the appearances and so on. He tells us of how, as he started to consider the Bible’s teaching about the implications of the resurrection, whole new vistas opened up before him:

It has shed light on a Christian landscape that I’d spent so much time in without even realizing it. The contours, twists and turns that I’ve been navigating for years – sometimes with frustration, sometimes with exhilaration – are now more visible. I can now make sense of them in the light of this extraordinary doctrine. The truth and reality of the resurrection illuminates the detail of so much of our everyday Christian experience.

It’s a book about having a changed perspective, because we can see how things really are. That’s what the resurrection of Jesus gives us. This experience then drives the books four chapters: ‘Assurance’ ‘Hope’ ‘Transformation’ ‘Mission’.

I think the chapter I found most helpful was the one on hope:

The Bible speaks of hope as something we have. It is about looking forward to something that is certain. I have the hope of eternity with Christ. We still don’t control the thing for which we have hope, but God does and has promised eternity to us. There is no degree of risk or disappointment. This hope cannot be frustrated by anyone. Unlike all our other expressions of hope, this is hope that won’t disappoint us (as Paul says in Romans 5:5). It is guaranteed by God himself and bears his signature: the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. This sort of hope makes living possible, for it gives us a future. Part of what makes us human is the ability to consider the future. We can’t help but be conscious of it. And we need to be. We need to have a future which is, to some extent, sorted out. We need to have hope.

All Christian people need to know the great joy of living in the light of the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. Sam has done us all a favour in writing such a engaging and readable book about such a vital subject. It is by turns amusing, moving, encouraging and profound. Truly, Sam helps us to look to a familiar horizon with fresh eyes. Lifted is a book that could easily form the centre of a discussion group, but any individual reader will be – well, ‘lifted’! – by what they find here.

Psalm 119:89-96 audio

Psalm 119:89-96

Psalm 119:9-16 audio

Psalm 119:9-16

5. Psalm 119:9-16

5. The beginning of an affair: learning to love the Bible
Can the words of this Psalm become our words? Can we see where he is coming from? We live in very different circumstances to this Psalmist – but we have the same God who speaks. For him ‘the word of God’ meant the Bible he had, which was the first five books of our Bible. But even from them he knew God as a God who promises and commands, a God whose word is powerful to create and powerful to redeem.

Of course we now know this reality in 3D – because we have in Jesus Christ the final and decisive and most glorious Word of God, whom the law and the prophets foretold. We know from him not only that God is holy and righteous, and takes our sin very seriously, but also that he is merciful and kind and will in him forgive us our sin and lead us into all kinds of acts of righteousness. When come to the word about Jesus Christ we find that God himself meets us there. And so even more than this nerdy Psalmist, we have reason to delight in the word of God!

So – how can we learn to love the Bible like this guy does?
1. We need to remember the remarkable benefits we have from this book. We have in it an insight into the mind of our creator. We have in it his means of telling us, turning us and tethering us to himself. We have no other lifeline than we find here in its pages, no better guidance. We can’t live on bread alone – but we need the word of God. And here we have it! How could we ignore it?

2. It is right to have habits and practices that embed the word of God into your life – that make it part of you. We are rightly afraid of a dry legalism that makes us think we are right with God just because we perform certain activities. Even reading the Bible can become like that. But that shouldn’t put us off – as human beings we need all the help we can get. We get tired, distracted and bored. Like anything else, reading the Bible takes practice – and practice makes it all better.

Thirty Nine Articles - new pieces

I have been blogging vigorously on the Thirty-Nine Articles - which explains some of the extended silences here.

Article 24

Article 25

Article 26

Article 27

Article 28

Article 29

Article 30

Article 31

Article 32

Article 33

Article 34

Article 35

4. Psalm 119:9-16

4. The Word in heart bursts out through delighted lips vs 13-16
So, in the second half of our passage today we see that the Psalmist can’t contain himself – his heart, filled with the word of God overflows onto his delighted lips. He puts the laws that come from the mouth of God into his own mouth, and recounts them, speaking them aloud to himself (vs 13). He ‘rejoices in following your statutes as one rejoices in great riches’ (vs 14) – he’s like a lottery winner in his elation. As he reads and mediates, he rejoices and delights. And why wouldn’t he, knowing what these words contain – not condemnation, but life.

That word ‘meditate’ distracts us a bit, because we are used to associating it with the more Eastern practice of meditation, in which you are supposed to clear your mind of all words and thoughts and listen to the sound of one hand clapping (or whatever it is), or by humming a mantra, which is a meaningless sound like ‘Om’.
In Biblical faith, there is a place for solitary contemplation. But in the Bible, meditation is inescapably a verbal thing – it is always a matter of relating the Word of God, since that is how God chooses to relate to us. Its focus is the text and what it says. If God has revealed himself in words, then the way to know him and to be known by him is not to rid yourself of words – rather, it is to immerse yourself in them. If these words have a divine origin, then to know God is to know these words – and to know them deeply is to know God deeply.

And what our ancient poet does is to read these words aloud to himself. Truth be told, the practice of silent reading is a relatively recent one – about 1000 years old. Ancient libraries would have been very noisy places, because even reading to yourself was still reading aloud. But there’s something we miss by not reading aloud – when we read or sing or recite the words of God, the words in a sense become our words. These words are not magic formulas, or spells – but when we say them, even if only to ourselves, they are powerful and effective. These words can so possess us that they become our words.

New Moore site!

Hey, I shoulda said so a week or so back -

but Moore College has an exciting new very Newtowny website.

One of the absolute highlights is the 'featured resources' section - in which you can access mp3s of talks and sermons given at Moore over a period of 30 or 40 years or so. Look out for a lecture by Helmut Thielicke which should be popping up soon.

3. Psalm 119:9-16

3. The Word in the Heart has power to keep us walking in God’s way (vs 9-12)
And though he doesn’t make any mention of those events here in Psalm 119, that’s the background – that’s the God whose word it is he is celebrating. It’s a word of grace and power.

You can see that in these first few verses of today’s section – vs 9-12. He starts out here with a very important question: How can those who are young keep their way pure? This is not so much a question for the young person; but rather, it is the question you might ask as you see your life stretching before you: ‘how can I, over all those years ahead, preserve my life in purity and holiness? How can I, knowing the weakness of my own flesh and how vulnerable I am, hope to live God’s way?’
It’s a powerful question, isn’t it? The Psalmist knows how prone he is like all of us to ‘stray from your commands’. Keeping ourselves from sin isn’t within our human power. Have you ever considered how impossible it is to stop ourselves from the ingrained habits of a lifetime? To give away our instinctive tendency to tell lies; or to master our anger; or to stop our habit of tearing others down?

And so, he says ‘I seek you with all my heart…’ (vs 10). But he knows, too, that he can only do that as the word is hidden in his heart (vs 11). It is only as he takes God’s word on board that he is enabled to know what it is to not sin against God – to live the way he is supposed to. Allowing the word of God to inhabit him is exactly the way to keep his ways pure.

So what does ‘hiding the word of God in his heart’ mean? It means more than knowing the right answers to a Bible quiz. Now, I am a minister’s son – and so I grew up with a pretty good grasp of who was who and what was what in the text of the Bible. I could win the Christian Studies prize no trouble. But having the word in your mind is not the same as having it in your heart. Your heart is a way of speaking about your desires and intentions: the things you want and long for. And so: hiding the word of God in your heart means letting that word not just into your head but into your very being.

But there’s something we need to add to this picture. Notice that even though he is active in learning, it is God who he wants to teach him (vs 12). In the Bible, God’s word is the means by which he does things. How does he create the world, after all? We hear in Hebrews that the Word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword. It’s dynamic. A friend of mine explains it by saying that God’s word tells us, but it also turns us and tethers us. That is: it isn’t just that we hear information about God when he speaks to us. In his word, we actually encounter him – and he himself works on us as we read it, changing us to be more like him and binding us to himself.

It’s powerful, this word. And you can begin to see why this guy loves it so much: because it isn’t of rules that he can’t ever keep. In these words he finds the power to keep him walking God’s way.

2. Psalm 119:9-16

2. This guy really loves the word of God
For the guy who wrote Psalm 119, there is no question about what really cooks his breakfast: it is the word of God. It isn’t just that he likes it: he is fascinated by it.

For one thing, he keeps telling us quite explicitly how he delights in the law of God throughout his Psalm – in verse 16, 24, 35, 47, 70, 77, 92, 143, 174.

But that’s not all – a closer look at this Psalm shows that is a lovingly-constructed love song to the word of God. It’s a long song, too – the longest single chapter in the Bible. But being so long doesn’t mean that the details have been rushed. It is like a carefully-made tapestry, with stitching so fine that you don’t notice it at first. But look more closely and you can see the care and the fine handiwork that has woven the pieces together with expert needlework.

For one thing, the Psalm is an acrostic poem – which is to say that each little section of about eight lines begins with a different letter of the Hebrew alphabet, in alphabetical order. You can see that from the way it is printed in the pew Bibles. This week we are going to focus on the second of those sections, the ‘B’ section. What’s more – and this is something that would take a very skilled translator to get into English – each verse of each section begins with the corresponding letter. So it sounds a guess a little like those Dr Seuss alphabet books, but not as child-like as that.

But another thing about this poem is that the Psalmist has got eight special words that he plays with all through the Psalm. And they are ‘word’ Words – words that have to do with the word.
So: law, statutes, precepts, decrees, commands, laws, word, and promise.

In each verse at least one of these words appears ¬– so you can see that in today’s section, which is titled ‘Beth’ after Hebrew letter for B, each verse has one of the 'word' words. And what is even more clever – in almost every section, he manages to use all eight of the ‘word’ words. He shuffles through the whole deck of them each time. It’s like a pattern of colours repeating over and over.

It’s a virtuoso performance, in a kind of obsessive compulsive way. But it isn’t just a case of him being a complete smarty pants. There is a tender care for his workmanship here. This guy really, really loves the word of God – he is fascinated by it. And he doesn’t just tell us that – he shows it to us in the way he has constructed his love song to the word. He wants us to slow down and take it in.

I have to admit though, that I have always been a little put off by his enthusiasm. I never really ‘got’ it. What is he seeing that I am not seeing?

I think it is the word English word ‘law’ that has put me off, and probably seems strange to us all. What do you think of when you think of ‘laws’? I think of parking police and school principals and rugby referees. For us, laws are the frames around our lives. They define our limits.

But the word ‘law’ in the Bible has a far richer and more positive meaning. It doesn’t just mean ‘the rules’. It means the whole record of God’s dealings with his people – seeking them out to make them a people. For this writer, he would have especially thought of the time of the Exodus, when God brought the Israelites out of Egypt and led them into the Promised Land, even though they were at that time a nation of slaves. Then he took them to Mount Sinai and gave them his law – how they were to respond to him and to live as his people. He called them to obey him because he had saved them. These words are words of grace.

1. 119:9-16 The Word that Delights: Why the Word of God can make your heart sing

1. Do you love the Bible?
Do you love the Bible? I mean really love it? Do you delight in it?
I am not sure I know how would answer that question myself. I believe the Bible. I study it. I think it is true, and authoritative. I even think that in it, God speaks to us – it is his written Word.

But love it?

That sounds a bit too nerdy – a bit too much like saying to your maths teacher that you love your maths text book. Or writing a letter to the Department of the Treasury saying how much you enjoy paying your taxes this year - and thanks so much for the opportunity.
I don’t know what you delight it – it might be that you delight in your children, or your spouse, or in your work, or in your passion for a sport or hobby. Or it might be that your heart sings when you remember a certain possession you own – a car or a house, perhaps, or even something much less expensive than that.

To love something, we know, means that your instinctive attention is given to it. When your delight is in something you don’t need to think about it – you are drawn to it. The thing you delight in is almost a part of you. People who know you know that this is your delight because it shapes your waking moments. Your direction in life is governed by what your love is. It’s your whole being that is taken over by it.

My grandfather’s great passion was for golf. He was a printer by trade, but that was not the thing in which he delighted so much as the time he could spend on the golf course. He quite liked his grandchildren, too, and enjoyed them – but really, it was golf. I remember his joy when he was able to play golf again without pain after he had a hip replacement, and I caddied for him as he won the C grade championship at his club at aged 76. You could see the delight on his face.

But to have that kind of pleasure in the Bible? That feels a little intense, doesn’t it?

Help my unbelief...

1. Introduction: To those whose patron saint is Thomas...
Wherever there has been belief, there has also been doubt. And yet Christians are often ashamed to admit to doubts and have difficulty articulating the nature of their doubts. Because faith itself is personal (and not merely propositional), the sting of doubt is in the way it attacks us personally. This book will address doubt as a spiritual condition, rather than particular doubts. In doing so, we will also need to consider what faith itself is, and how a Christian may claim assurance.
Part One
Reasons for Doubt? An Anatomy of the 21st Century Soul
2. I Can’t Trust Myself
Much Christian doubting comes not from doubting God but from doubting one’s self. If my heart is infinitely self-deceiving, then how can I believe that I have faith? How can I trust that I trust, if part of what I believe is my essential untrustworthiness? The journey into the interior world of the self does not leave us feeling very confident either. Although it is a very contemporary problem in many ways, we introduce Augustine of Hippo here as a fellow traveler when it comes to self-mistrust. His own journey into the centre of the self stands as a warning and an encouragement to those of us who doubt ourselves.
3. Numb
Feeling nothing towards God – even while still affirming the truths of the Christian faith – is a form of doubt which many Christians experience. It is a disbelief in God’s ongoing action in the world. Do I still have faith if I feel nothing?
4. What is Truth?
In an age of far too much information, how can we know what is true anymore? If people interpret the Bible so differently, then what chance have we got of getting it right?
5. My Enemies Surround Me
Many of the Psalms cry out to God from the situation of being attacked by enemies. In the contemporary West, this feeling of being surrounded is still there and still potential lethal for faith, though the nature of the attack is very different?
6. Because it hurts
Will my faith survive a terrible episode of grief and suffering? Will suffering make it all seem impossible? Is suffering proof of my lack of faith?
7. Is Doubt Sinful?
Perhaps we dignify doubt by giving it a kind of aura of authenticity. While it is certainly the case that some doubts are just due to the fact that we worship an invisible God, it is possible for doubt to be a kind of wilful refusal to acknowledge the truth about God. James, Jesus’ brother, seems quite clear on the detrimental effects of doubt. How can we know our doubt is sinful in fact?

Part Two
Believing Again
9. Learning to Walk Again
A period of doubt can be crippling for the Christian. How can I find my feet again? What directions are there for getting back on track?
10. Hearing
Faith itself is not so much a matter of seeing but of hearing – hearing especially the promises of God. The ears, as Luther said, are the organ of the Christian.
11. Waiting
The Christian life consists of a lot of waiting – and yet waiting is one of the things we fear to do most of all. It sounds so passive. And yet Christian waiting is an extremely active business.
12. Getting the Feeling Back
While experience is not the ground of Christian assurance in my knowing that the gospel is for me ought there not be some growing affection for God?
13. Worth Believing In?
Ultimately, what at issue in doubt is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ in whom we are called to have faith. Is he trustworthy, good and powerful to save?

Eternity magazine

You may not have seen Eternity magazine yet.

But I think they are doing a really good job - the second issue is an improvement on the first, and the first was good. It's a freebie - just go to the website and you can order it for your church anywhere in Oz.

In this month's issue, I have written an article about God and laughter.

Movember

Two articles

Is Scripture Clear? Ten Ideas on the Clarity of Scripture is over at Anglican Media.

Peace for our time?, my piece on the end of Communism, is now at ABC Unleashed.

Church order

Article 34 of the Thirty-Nine Articles (Of the Traditions of the Church) reads thus:

It is not necessary that traditions and ceremonies be in all places one or utterly alike; for at all times they have been diverse, and may be changed according to the diversity of countries, times, and men's manners, so that nothing be ordained against God's word.

So - there is here envisaged a liturgical flexibility. Modifications can and should be made for the customs of the place. Christians do not meet according to a rigidly fixed pattern, or aping the historical dress and customs of a time gone by. But the principle is normative, not regulative: that is, freedom is allowed insofar as it is constrained by God's word, rather than it being dictated lock stock and barrel by it. Indeed, the last sentence of the article is this:

Every particular or national Church hath authority to ordain, change, and abolish ceremonies or rites of the Church ordained only by man's authority, so that all things be done to edifying.

So: have confirmation, or don't have confirmation (for example).

But the middle section of the article reads:

Whosoever through his private judgement willingly and purposely doth openly break the traditions and ceremonies of the Church which be not repugnant to the word of God, and be ordained and approved by common authority, ought to be rebuked openly that other may fear to do the like, as he that offendeth against common order of the Church, and hurteth the authority of the magistrate, and woundeth the conscience of the weak brethren.

That is: even though there is a freedom for individual national churches to change the style (for want of a better word) of their services - and indeed they ought to do so - it is also most definitely NOT a matter of private judgement. It is not a matter of the local clergy varying the practices without authorisation and/or consultation. Why is that? Because of the weak consciences of the faithful and because the authority so set up is undermined by the practice.

Notice that, while on the one hand there is not a whiff that the agreed liturgical practice is soteriologically significant, or that it can't be varied or even radically changed, this is not in tension with the importance of maintaining church order. In a lot of discussions about church practices that I hear, this subtlety is not expressed. Church order is the way in which each church or fellowship of churches puts into practice the kind of teaching we receive from Paul in 1 Corinthians 8-14. It does not substitute for that teaching: it expresses it, for ''God is not a God of chaos but of peace." The church's observance of ordered corporate worship is a reflection of the character of God himself. (Ordered doesn't mean 'formal', by the way, or not relaxed, or inauthentic. It just means that things are done in the meeting are consistent with the purpose of mutual edification.)

Note that that the sacraments are practiced is certainly not optional as far as the Articles are concerned - because these were rites not instituted by man's authority, but by the Lord (see Articles 25-31). It is hard to see how anyone could possibly argue that the sacraments themselves are optional, or merely 'helpful', and remain Anglican in any meaningful sense. But how the sacraments might be practiced may indeed be varied on the condition that this is not a matter of private judgement - because of the kind of troubling disorder that reflects badly on the God whose name we seek to honour. (I hasten to add that the Articles certainly don't make this a free for all. Those practices which communicate an essentially Roman Catholic view of the Supper it does not endorse: elevating the host, carrying it about and so on. All of these are flagrantly ignored in much Anglican practice I have to say. The history of the Oxford movement involved, bizarrely, a good deal of disregard for church order in the name of ... church order.)

Let me summarise: you can have an agreed on church order, and take that order seriously, without suggesting that observance of that order is somehow a matter of salvation, or a work that we think accrues some kind of merit for us. And you shouldn't just break from church order just because it suits you, without proper regard for the fellowship of churches in which you operate. And churches should be innovate and liberating in allowing various ways in which order can be expressed, too.

Right?

On Psalm 119 modified

Ok, how's this:

Psalm 119: The Inexhaustible Word: Why the Word of God has Everything You Need fo Joy, Safety and Direction

119:9-16 The Word that Delights: Why the Word of God can make your heart sing
119:90-96 The Word that Preserves: How the Word of God can save your life
119:105-112 The Word that Guides: How the Word of God can shape your destiny

On Psalm 119

I am preparing a sermon series on Psalm 119. And it's tougher than it looks!

Psalm 119: The Inexhaustible Word

119:9-16 The Word that Delights
119:90-96 The Word that Preserves
119:105-112 The Word that Guides

Pretty dull, huh?

any help?

On Suffering

Three friends of mine, Noel Debien, David Hohne, Andrew Sloane, speak on theodicy on the ABC, along with Carolyn Martin.

On Theological Idiosyncrasies

I am a Protestant. In principle and in practice, I am committed to the authority of scripture - wherever that may take me. That means living with some doctrinal and hermeneutical difficulties, perhaps - but there is a humility in saying that no system or institution is paramount here. In principle, I am open to being convinced that the Bible is saying something other than what I - and perhaps even a large swathe of Christians through history - thought it always had.

The christian academic/theologian is given the gift of time by the church - time to think and write and articulate the great truths of the Christian faith. Necessarily, he or she is given a certain freedom of inquiry - to follow where the scriptures may lead as much as possible without fear or favour. But he/she also exists and teaches within a community of context, to which he/she is responsible, and for whom practices and confessions have been framed in order to preserve true teaching from false.

So: consider this possibility: the theologian/biblical scholar becomes convinced in the course of his/her study that Scripture teaches something that doesn't seem to be reflected in the teaching and practices of the church to which he or she belongs. Romans 7 is really about the pre-Christian life (for example). Or, say, annihilationism is theologically and scripturally justified. Or, the Lord's Supper is a fellowship tea. (NB these are not necessarily positions I hold).

What, then to do?

I would like to think that a Protestant and Reformed mentality allows for the discussion of idiosyncratic positions, so long as there are held to be Scriptural. But (I this is the point of the post) they ought to be recognised as idiosyncratic by the holder of them. The teacher of an idiosyncratic point of view ought to have the integrity to admit to the idiosyncratic and untested nature of the position, until he or she can convince others.

Right?

Music in Church in the 21st Century: part 2 - 'if music be the food of love...'

In my previous post, I put forward the tentative thesis, disguised as someone else's, that 'folk' music was the best way to describe the form of music that ought to be found in churches. It is a particular expression of a theology of church of course. It is missional, in that adapts to local conditions; it is non-elite, in that it is accessible by the community without asking extraordinary skill or learning (thus reflecting the priesthood of all believers); it is open to being sanctified for its use by the Christian community.

Necessarily, some forms of music are going to be excluded from this because they are not aesthetically shaped to the purpose of singing together to God. While no particular form of music is commanded or sanctified in scripture, as we try to adapt different forms of music to use in Christian fellowship as expressions of common life we will soon realise that some styles are just so ill-suited they will never work.

In each age, certain musical styles offer themselves in different ways for adaption for use in church meetings. The traditional tunes that we find used in 'Be Thou My Vision' or 'A Mighty Fortress is Our God' are already deeply embedded in the history and culture of the community from which they emerged as an expression of commonality - the pride and security of togetherness is the note they immediately sound. These features really work for church music because of the overlap - Christians want to express precisely those feelings and truths about their God. The return of Celtic-sounding melodies in the music of Townend and Getty works because we associate that style of music with rousing fellow-feeling. If anything, the danger is that it is a little militaristic - they all sound like national anthems in the end!

In our day, the popular song is the form that we find ourselves most aping in our church music. The popular song is nicely fit for purpose when it comes to church music, too - but in a different way. I would want to argue that popular songs of the 20th century are all about love and desire. When we hear a popular song, we immediately associate it with this erotic theme. The singer is an individual singing about his or her longing or loss. That's the genre: when the Beatles play around with this genre and singing about Walruses and whathaveyou, we recognise that this stretching of the genre is taking place, and ride with it. The music of U2 is an interesting case of course: they express desire and love, but most often it isn't for another human being. It is often suggestive of a desire for God....

And this is quite apt. The Psalms give us this theme of longing and desire for God. We Christians recognise that the popular song is a ready-made vehicle for the expression of longing and desire for God, because we instantly think of this when we hear it.

However, this is where the pitfalls lie, too. Since the 1930s the popular song has revealed itself to be capable of quite complex and even profound expressions of grown-up and mature emotions. But it has also been the musical vehicle for short-cuts to emotional fruition. It has lent itself to cheesiness - to the trite, the cheap, the quick, and the disposable. It has a tendency to be an adolescent form of music for expressing adolescent experiences - challenging no-one about anything. It can be extremely limited as a mode.

And while the popular song expresses much of what we might want to say to God, it doesn't capture all of the gestures and attitudes that are available to us...

Music in Church in the 21st Century: my paper for TWIST

This Saturday I will be giving a seminar at TWIST, EMU Music's conference to be held at Angel Place in the city.

Here's my blurb:

The influence of popular music since the invention of mass recording is inescapable, even in the church. But has it always been for the good? Are there forms of music that are by their nature unsuitable for use in singing the praises of God? Should the church just make use of whatever it finds in the culture around it? (Have you noticed that church music now sounds like Coldplay?) Can, and should, new forms of music emerge from the corporate worship of the church? How will good theology influence music itself (and not just the words)? This seminar asks probing theological questions about the relationship between sacred and secular, traditional and hip.

And here's my thinking in draft form: churches have on the whole moved beyond the sacred/secular divide when it comes to styles of music. This means they have become 'post-aesthetic' - which means that they have decided that the style of music is only incidental to the business of singing in church.

Nowadays, most evangelical churches imagine themselves choosing a style of music on the basis of its cultural relevance. The right style of music, then, is the style that clicks best with the congregation of the day. Or something like that.

There are good theological instincts at work here. The Bible does not mandate a style of music, though it talks about music often and is operatically full of songs. People in the Bible are constantly singing! What is more, we recognise that the gospel does not come to us bound hard to a particular cultural expression - in fact, the missionary genius of Christianity is that it transcends cultural expressions. Church singing in Africa and church singing in Indonesia are going to be different - thank goodness.

Furthermore, a healthy doctrine of creation and a cursory glance at church history will show us that the church adapts forms of music to its uses rather than needing to invent them from scratch. So: today's beer hall song is tomorrow's Lutheran hymn; that familiar sea-shanty will be turned to use in the Methodist chapel. The creative process of course involves borrowing from the world around us.

But does this mean that church musicians are aesthetic relativists? I don't think it can mean this. We don't want to offer short-cuts here - ie, that the organ is a more sacred instrument than the electric guitar. That is just silly. No: what I mean is this. Without prescribing what the outcome is, I would expect that as music is pressed into the service of congregational singing and worship of God, it will be transformed as music. And this means that the church will continually be generating fresh styles as it puts the music it hears to holy purposes.

Which means that, while church musicians ought to be open to repeating what they hear around them, they ought also to be encouraged to innovate and develop their musical style as a reflection of what they are doing. Borrowing and transforming is one thing; aping is another.

How might this work out in practice? A preacher I greatly admire once said to me when I put the relativist/pragmatic argument forward that no, there was definitely a style for church music. He said it was 'folk music'. Now, I think there is something in this - though I am not quite sure what he meant by 'folk'! That is, a style of music that achieves a marriage between the words of praise and the use in congregational singing can never be arbitrary, though it may vary enormously over time and place. It will be 'folk', I guess, if it is in the service of the people. And it is no accident that Christians have been responsible for developing some highly original forms of music from asking 'what musical style best serves and edifies the people of God?' and 'what musical style best correlates with the words of scripture?'

Why the Philosophy of Education?

Well thanks to thoe who helped me with texts on Education.

Why was I asking? Part of working in a denominational seminary as a theologian is being available to help the denomination think theologically about some of its practices. I have had some involvement in a project on 'community' for Anglicare, the Anglican church's vast welfare arm.

One of other things we are involved in a major way of course is education. We have, in Sydney, 40 or more schools, many of which are less than 20 years old. Some of them are what you would call 'elite' private schools, but many of them are low fee-paying schools in the less-advantaged western suburbs of Sydney.

But there is no consistent thinking about what it means to be a Anglican educational institution. Or, at least, such thinking as there is is quite ad hoc. The 'Christian' component gets tacked on somewhat, by having chapel services or some such. I would guess that little sustained thought goes into thinking through the implications of theology for the curriculum, or the practice of discipline, for example. Or, to what degree do schools foster social inclusiveness.

On the other hand, the Christian schools model, insofar as it promotes a sectarian view of knowledge and of the Christian community, is not the way forward either. Furthermore, taking models from the US and trying to replicate them in Australia ignores the massive cultural and historical differences between us on the very issue of education. So - I will read Doug Wilson, for sure: he is ALWAYS interesting, perceptive, funny and ... well, eccentric. But what works in remote Idaho in the political context of Obama's America is not automatically transferrable to Oz.

So, what is needed is a bit of theological thinking about education which will help educational practioners do their job to the glory of God.

Thoughts anyone?

Theory of Education

Help me -

I need to compile a must-read reading list in the theory and philosophy of education. It ought to include classics as well as state-of-the-art works. And I am not interested in the tin-tacks of teaching: I need to get over education as a philosophy.

Any ideas?

Doubt - your experiences?

I am conducting some research into why Christians - and ex-Christians - doubt. And what helped them through it, if anything did. I'd love to have some personal testimonies here ... though doubt has some features that are common in every experience, because it is so personal doubt is very different for different folks. Things one person just lives with, the next person finds crippling.

Please feel to go anonymous if that helps.

My article on Christopher Hitchens at the SMH

It's on the online opinion section (not the print bit). It isn't a knock down or anything, but...

Feel free to join the discussion there!

Hi everyone, Here's a link to my podcast: http://thecommonroom.podOmatic.com See you there! - - Michael

Hmm ... Jensen thinks again

In my Doctrine 2 lecture today I said something like this:

Some have decided, given the plethora of reconstructions of the life of Jesus, that there is no way to access the real Jesus, no knowing the truth about his human life. Albert Schweitzer wrote in 1906, after reviewing a century of scholarship that the best we could hope for in Jesus is a subjective experience of one unknown:

[Then I quoted Schweitzer himself]:

He comes to us as One unknown, without a name, as of old, by the lake-side, He came to those men who knew Him not. He speaks to us the same word: “Follow thou me!” and sets us to the task which He has to fulfil for our time. He commands. And to those who obey Him, whether they be wise or simple, He will reveal Himself in the toils, the conflicts, the sufferings which they shall pass through in His fellowship, and, as an ineffable mystery, they shall learn in their own experience Who He is.

A.Schweitzer, The Quest for the Historical Jesus, p.401

Well, as two students pointed out, this is not entirely a fair representation of Schweitzer's view. Schweitzer, with some confidence that the NT documents represent some contact with a 1st century reality, represented Jesus as an apocalyptic prophet of the Kingdom of God whose prophecies came to naught because of his death. The strangeness that Schweitzer speaks of is as much Jesus's weirdness in relation to our modern world - ie, he isn't after all a liberal white Frenchman (sorry Ernst Renan). My emphasis on his unknownness as a historical unreachability is, true, more characteristic of Bultmann's position.

So: got me. However, I wouldn't want to concede everything. And I have read Schweitzer (yes, Doug! though not recently...). Schweitzer concludes indeed that Jesus cannot be known by historical research but instead by the kind of Christ-mysticism proffered (he said) by Paul. Jesus' words - his ethical teaching - are what makes him transcend times and places.

My 'Open Letter to Nathan Rees' in the SMH

This weeks Anglican Media column, entitled An Open Letter to Nathan Rees has been picked up as an item of interest by the Sydney Morning Herald. Which is funny, since they rejected it in the first place!

In part, the piece was a response to the way I had heard even Christians scoffing about Nathan and his cronies. There's plenty to scoff about, but to pray for civic leaders is a recognition of who we really think is in charge...

A Lecture I gave on Torture at UNSW

Download Audio

Reading for Doctrine Two - some suggestions

Theology is a subject that requires reading – not just of lecture notes or text books but reading of stimulating and challenging theological works.

Every evangelical theological student (that means you!) MUST read J.I. Packer’s seminal article ‘What did the Cross Achieve – The Logic of Penal Substitution’. You can find it online at http://www.the-highway.com/cross_Packer.html and in other places too. The article is gold not only for what Packer says about the cross, but for what he says about theological method.

Closely followed in this are two great evangelical works - The Cross of Christ by John Stott, and The Death of Christ by James Denney. Pierced for our Transgressions, the recent book by Ovey, Jeffers and Sach, is worth a read, though it has its limitations (very minimal reference to the gospels, for example). For a better defence of penal substitution, Steven Holmes’ The Wondrous Cross is the benchmark in my view. There is also Paul Molnar’s book Incarnation and Resurrection - I haven’t read it, but it looks good! :-)

Of the classic works on the work of Christ in the Christian tradition, Athanasius’ On the Incarnation of the Word, written when he was 21, is the standout. Anselm’s Why God Became Man? is the pinnacle of medieval theological thinking about the work of Christ. Calvin’s treatment in Book II of the Institutes is the first real exposition of penal substitution in the tradition. In the 17th century, John Owen’s The Death of Death is the supreme example of a Protestant account. B.B. Warfield’s book The Person and Work of Christ shouldn’t be overlooked. In the 20th century, Jurgen Moltmann’s The Crucified God and Wolfhart Pannenberg’s Jesus: God and Man are the two most sophisticated works from a German point of view and they do not overlook contemporary difficulties brought about by historical and ethical thinking since the Enlightenment. For a Roman Catholic account, Hans Urs von Balthasar’s Mysterium Paschale is good value. Colin Gunton’s The Actuality of Atonement is a very stimulating, if not entirely satisfying book. On the reformed end of things, John Murray’s Redemption Accomplished and Applied will get your pulses racing.

Don’t be shy about dipping into great works of systematic theology – all of which will have to say something about the cross. Use the indexes! Check out Francis Turretin, Charles Hodge and Herman Bavinck, for examples of classic reformed accounts. You ought to purchase one of these as a resource for your ministry. Karl Barth’s Church Dogmatics IV.1 can’t be ignored though – even if you only dip in and get your toes wet.

Lastly, I think everyone should read John Howard Yoder’s The Politics of Jesus. Usually it comes up under ‘Ethics’ – but it is a very challenging exploration of the significance for today of the Biblical Jesus in social, political and spiritual terms.

Jesus: Connections for Life

With the 'Jesus All About Life' campaign primed and ready to go this month, the good folks down at Christians in the Media have done us all a favour and put together a resource to take the conversation futher. The TV ads will prompt discussion: will Christians be able to take it to where it counts? The Jesus: Connections for Life coursewill do just that.

There's a professionally produced booklet and DVD package which could be used by a group, a church or an individual. It's all very well done and rates very low on the hokey factor. Dominic and his gang have been able to put substance in. Go order some copies today!

Andrew Shead on translation

Andrew Shead talks about translation.

Given the recent announcements about the NIV, this is a timely discussion!

A New Evangelical Anglican Vision?

Just this past term I have had the great pleasure of co-teaching – with Professor Ashley Null, the renowned Cranmer scholar - a MA unit offered here at Moore College entitled ‘Anglican Identity’. In it we made careful study of the development of the English reformation and the works of leading figures like Fisher, Cranmer and Hooker.

A highlight was reading the moving testimony of Catherine Parr, last wife of Henry VIII, to her conversion to the gospel of justification by faith.

I was curious, however, as to why so few Sydney clergy thought this was a subject that might interest them, or that the study of the founding documents of our denomination might be well worth their while.

This was confirmed by casual conversations with Moore students. I asked them ‘how do you understand your identity as an Anglican?’ – and was met with baffled looks and shrugs. The denomination is a ‘good boat to fish from’, mostly, but there is (it seems to me) no great passion for Anglicanism itself and no great commitment to study its formularies and its history.

Perhaps it is because the international controversies have become wearisome and even a source of embarrassment. Perhaps it is because the denomination changes at glacial speed – and we in our time are addicted to change, even for its own sake. Perhaps we are also in the grip of the ‘lone ranger’ vision of the brave church planter, unencumbered by denominational vagaries.

But I was surprised that even the GAFCON movement, with its bold and remarkable vision for an global Anglican movement, has not caught the local imagination. It has been perceived as a political rather than a spiritual movement - which is certainly not the way it was perceived by those who were present in Jerusalem.

More than ever, we need to renew our vision of what it means to be an evangelical Anglican. My conviction is that not only is being evangelical the most authentic way of being Anglican – we’ve been saying that for years - but also that being Anglican is a great way of being evangelical.

How come?
Firstly, because the Anglican formularies (the 39 Articles, the Prayer-Book and the Homilies) subject themselves at every turn to the authority of scripture. They offer themselves to be tested against a scriptural norm.

Second, because Anglicanism has a great sense of what is of primary and what is of secondary importance. Other Protestant denominations have a tendency to make secondary issues – like the manner of baptism or church discipline or church government – primary. And they endlessly divide because of it. The Anglican formularies commit us to important things – and allow us freedom under Scripture on the secondaries. The great evangelical bishop JC Ryle called this a 'studied moderation about things non-essential to salvation'. What a blessing!

Third, Anglicanism is a great mission strategy. From the beginning, Cranmer and the others knew that they were in a battle for hearts – hearts, like Catherine Parr’s, that needed conversion. Today, the opportunities opening up for mission because of our Anglican networks are extraordinary - nationally and globally. Anyone interested in Christian mission ought to be interested in what is happening through Anglican church today - yes, despite all our well discussed flaws.

I am sure I could add more to this list. But I am not sure that the message is being heard.
The text of Ed Loane's wonderful speech to the Anglican Church League is here. In it, Ed recounts the League's century-long determination to defend the evangelical character of the diocese of Sydney from liberalism and tractarianism. It struck me however that for most of that century evangelical Anglicans knew what the Anglicanism they were defending was. There was a strong positive as a corollory to the negative. If today we have lost a sense of what that Anglicanism really is, then a determination to defend it becomes merely negativity for its own sake, or sectarianism. We need urgently to relocate the evangelically beating heart of our Anglicanism - that ought to be the go-forward mission of the ACL. No amount of fighting off charismatics or New Perspectivists will seem meaningful if there is not this real sense that being Anglican is worth it for a dyed-in-the-wool evangelical.

And that leads me to a final point. We urgently need a liturgical renewal or even revival - and our Anglican heritage gives us the resources to make it possible. Now: I don't want to be misunderstood here. I am NOT calling for nostalgia, for dressing up, for antiquarian services in 16th century English or anything of the kind. Far from it. BUT it seems to me that Cranmer's great insight was that the habitual and regular gathering of God's people - corporate worship - was a crucial moment in which the distinctive emphases of Christian doctrine were to be embedded in the hearts of believers (and preached to non-believers). The thirty-nine articles envisage that in diverse times and places new expressions of corporate life will needed to embody and embed these same truths - showing us that the content and not the form was the thing that mattered.

Too often, Sydney Anglican meetings are characterised by what they are NOT. They are not charismatic and they are not Catholic. Fine. But I can't believe we are satisfied with these negatives. What is more, we have a real envy problem when it comes to the charos - why are their people having so much fun? Why do they enjoy such theologically lite services so much?
The BCP is a standard which we ought to emulate in our own way - it is one of the best things we have! It dramatises the Christian gospel and the Christian life in response - teaching us justification by grace through faith and the authority of scripture and nurturing us in those. It makes a feature of preaching, but it puts even the preacher under the authority of the scriptures that are read aloud. In rejecting the theology of Roman Catholicism, the Protestant reformers at the same time had a compelling alternative to offer. And done rightly, it hits the Christian experientially deep down. Could we one day be able to say again that what we do in church meetings is the one of the best things about being a Sydney Anglican?

Calvin @ 500 - sign up quick!

If you are planning to come to the Calvin conference at Moore - then I advise you to book in and sign up quick! The word on the street is that more than 150 delegates have signed in from interstate. Sydney-siders have been leaving it till the last minute - but they will have to let us know they are coming for catering purposes or they will GO HUNGRY.

Andrew Cameron on the Podcast

Andrew Cameron on the Trials of Theology

Great stuff - latest Common Room episode.

Ten Reasons the Ashes are Gone

OK, the Ashes are gone and it's time for a post mortem. Congratulations to the England team - but I think they will admit that their side isn't the strongest one they have fielded. In the stats and averages, the Australians looked dominant in terms of volume of runs, centuries scored, and wickets per bowler. But it didn't translate into victories. Here's ten reasons it went pear-shaped...

1. Failure to win in Cardiff. One wicket was all that seperated the two teams in the end. Australia were dominant in Cardiff and couldn't finish them off. Lack of a quality experienced spinner and some strange captaincy on the last day helped England.

2. Mitchell Johnson at Lords. What went wrong? I am still shaking my head in disbelief. Johnson looked like a moody teenager and bowled like he was bowling with the wrong arm. Strauss was gifted a century, England were gifted a very large and rapid first innings total - and we never looked in it from there.

3. Batting collapses in the first innings three times. Killed us at Lords. Got us in a spot of bother at Edgbaston. Killed us again at the Oval. North, Ponting and Clarke got big runs, but failed when the chips were down.

4. No quality spinner. Without a really viable spinning option, Ponting had nowhere to turn to when the batsmen get set, or when one of his pacemen has an off day. In the end, it was absurd to play four quicks at the Oval.

5. Michael Hussey. Sorry Mr Cricket, but you were a big gimme in the middle of the batting order. You made runs when it didn't matter anymore and got ducks when it really did matter. You were a passenger, basically.

6. Bowling on Strauss's pads. Why do this? He's good - but not THAT good. Gifted far too many easy runs.

7. Variety in the England bowling attack. No single bowler was dominant. But each of them took a turn - Flintoff at Lords, Anderson at Edgbaston, Broad at the Oval with Swann.

8. Late order England runs. The sight of Swann and Broad swinging the bat is enough to give me nightmares. Prior, Bopara, Collingwood, Cook and Bell were disasters for England. But it didn't matter in the end.

9. Inability to play swing bowling. Not quite as pronounced as in 2005, it was still the case that the Aussie batsmen were vulnerable to inswinging deliveries.

10. Some WOEFUL umpiring. Not decisive, perhaps, but certainly there were some embarassing decisions against the Aussies. Phillip Hughes got at least two, and he only batted three times. Not easy to build confidence - or large scores - with trigger happy umps.

Confessing 2

4. The New Testament
The baptism that John the Baptist offered involved the confession of sins (Matt 3:6). The baptisands are seen in contrast with the Pharisees and Sadducees, who are lacking the attitude of sorrow for one’s own sins. As in the OT, the mourning of the blessed, and their poverty in Spirit, prepare the way for the coming of the messiah’s great salvation (Matt 5:1-12). The tax collector, who stands far off and crestfallen, and who prays ‘have mercy on me a sinner!’ (Luke 18:13) is the one who goes down justified – his godly sorrow is met by forgiveness and justification. Sorrow for one’s sins, expressed in confessional prayer to God, is the disposition, or mindset, that is answered by the good news of the coming of the Kingdom of God in the person of the messiah himself, who will offer himself as an atoning sacrifice for sin. Christ remains in his role of intercessor with the Father on our behalf (1 John 2:1 ).

5. Simul iustus et peccator
There is no hint in the NT of the Roman Catholic view that conversion is necessary for Christians even after baptism. The problem with the system is a failure to see that forgiveness and justification are once and for all, and bring the fruit of adoption into Christ’s family by the Spirit. The NT Christian is addressed as a saint, not a sinner; and there is the expectation of a robust conscience full of confidence in the atoning blood of Christ. This life is still lived in the flesh, of course. Luther’s insight was that in the gospel one could be both fully righteous and yet still a sinner. Because the Christian life is still lived in the flesh, confession of sin plays a crucial role in reminding the believer how it is that he or she can claim to stand with any confidence before God. It is a protection from the haughtiness and presumption so often condemned in scripture. The practice of confession of sin powerfully reminds us of our dependence at every turn on the mercy of God

...the beginning, and the even the preparation, of proper prayer is the plea for pardon with a humble and sincere confession of guilt.
John Calvin


ARTICLE XVI
Not every deadly sin willingly committed after Baptism is sin against the Holy Ghost, and unpardonable. Wherefore the grant of repentance is not to be denied to such as fall into sin after Baptism. After we have received the Holy Ghost, we may depart from grace given and fall into sin, and by the grace of God we may arise again and amend our lives. And therefore they are to be condemned, which say they can no more sin as long as they live here, or deny the place of forgiveness to such as truly repent.; and encourages us to further repentance.

Confession signals that the Christian life is an ongoing act of repentance, steeped in recognition of the holiness of the character of God himself. It points us back to the great salvation-historical moments of redemption, and most especially to the cross of Christ as the once-for-all sacrifice for sin. Confession is effective because of the advocacy of Christ in before the throne of God in his present heavenly session. This is not in any way to compromise the assurance of a clean conscience that the Christian ought to experience – as the doctrine of justification by faith alone teaches. As Calvin writes: The godly man enjoys a pure conscience before the Lord, thus confirming himself in the promises with which the Lord comforts and supports his true worshippers. It is not our intent to snatch this true blessing from his breast; rather we would assert that his assurance his prayers will be answered rests solely upon God’s clemency, apart from all consideration of personal merit. Confession is, in fact, a great recognition of the security and sure hope of an answer that is given in the gospel of Jesus Christ – while at the same time, being recognition of the seriousness with which the Christian takes sin. It is therefore important to encourage a practice of confession individually and corporately among God’s people; but alongside this to declare the gospel of grace – in this sense fulfilling Jesus’ commission to the apostles in John 20:23.

6. Confession as therapy?
We probably shouldn’t despise the therapeutic effects of confession either. James 5:14-16 reads: 14 Are any among you sick? They should call for the elders of the church and have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord. 15 The prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise them up; and anyone who has committed sins will be forgiven. 16 Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective. The confession in this instance is mutual and communal rather private. The healing effects of the experience of forgiveness are palpable.

Calvin on the Radio

Here's Sunday night's program on Calvin.

Confessing 1

The Christian life is, while united into the family of God by the Spirit in Christ Jesus and living in the expectation of being perfected, still haunted by sin, and acknowledged by the Christian to be so.

1. Forgive us our sins?
Confession means admitting that one’s actions have been displeasing to God. If we say we have no sin says the author of 1 John, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. On the other hand if we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1:8-9). Is John merely talking about the beginning of the Christian life here, or is he rather saying that the whole of the Christian life ought to be marked the habit of confessing one’s sins? The context would seem to demand understand this confession in an ongoing sense. But does this then undermine justification by grace through faith? If the Christian is already walking in the light, and cleansed from all sin by the blood of Jesus (vs 5-6) – then what need is there of a habit of confession of sin? Does this not merely tempt us to despair? The problem is: what to do with Christian sin. What effect do sins have on the Christian life?

2. Confession in Roman Catholicism
The Roman Catholic Church insists on a sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation. Though it inaugurates the new life of grace, baptism does not abolish the weakness in our human nature. Neither does it remove our concupiscence – our inclination to sin. Thus, Christ instituted the sacrament in order to enable the conversion of the baptised (John 20:22-23). This conversion involves first of all contrition – which is an interior movement of the heart in sorrow for one’s sins and with a firm intention not to sin again. Confession is to be made, via the intermediary action of the priest, of all mortal sin. These have to be remembered and enumerated. Prayers can be part of an act of penance, which then prepares the way for reconciliation of the sinner with God at the Eucharist.

3. Confessing in The Old Testament
Part of Adam and Eve’s fall involves their refusal to accept responsibility for their actions. Rather, they blame others. It is not a surprise that things are meant to be different. The Levitical sacrifices involved an act of confession of sin over the head of the sacrificial animal (Lev 1:4, 16:21). However, it is in the historical narratives that confession becomes significant for Israel, especially in the midst of national calamity. Inspired by the prophecies of Jeremiah, Daniel makes an extensive confession of Israel’s sins to God. The confession in particular emphasises the consistency and faithfulness of God to his promises in contrast to the faithlessness of Israel. His plea for mercy focuses on the memory of the Exodus and the fact that Israel’s restoration will bring glory to Yhwh’s name. In post-exilic Israel, Ezra makes a shame-faced prayer of confession to God on behalf of the people (Ez 9:5-15; see also Neh 9:6-37 and Isaiah 64:1-12). These are collective, national prayer-acts occasioned by particular moments of Israel’s history; but significantly, they are articulations of the kind of repentant spirit that prepares the way for the salvation of Yhwh. A more personal prayer of confession is given to us in Ps 32 (see also Ps 25) – but the attitude and purpose are the same. Confession of sin, individual and corporate, is the proper preparation for the saving intervention of Yhwh. This is not because it forces God’s hand, but because it prepares the way for atonement and forgiveness.

Asking 2

4. Petitioning

Barth and others make a very strong case that, in the first instance, prayer is petitionary: an asking, seeking and knocking directed towards God. Of course, this must and will involve praise and thanksgiving and confession. But in petitioning, the praying subject comes to God with nothing and on nothing dependent except for the knowledge that God is gracious and loving and has promised to give to those who ask. The prayer of asking, if it is to be a Christian prayer, ‘derives from what the Christian already receives’. It is an asking which already knows that God has drawn near to us in his Son. Addressing God as ‘Father’, as we are bidden to do by Jesus, means that the request depends on an already existing relationship between God and us. The gospel declares to us how this is possible, of course: by the purification of our sins through the blood of Jesus Christ and the pouring out of the Holy Spirit into our hearts, we receive the gift of Son-ship (Gal 4:6-7). Jesus’ reassurances about asking and the providence of God in the Sermon on the Mount point towards his own saving action – it is not merely general providence that refers.

5. What we can ask for
The man who really prays comes to God and approaches and speak to Him because he seeks something of God, because he desires and expects something, because he hopes to receive something which he needs, something which he does not hope to receive from anyone else, but does definitely hope to receive from God. Karl Barth (C.D. III.iii.268) There is in principle nothing for which the Christian cannot ask. Christian asking is premised on the generous character of God our Father, who knows already our needs before we ask (Matt 6:8) and who loves to give to those who ask. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone? Or if the child asks for a fish, will give a snake? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him! Asking God is greatly preferable to the murderous wrestle with others for things (see James 4:2-3). The petitions of the Lord’s Prayer however remind us of the nature of the times in which we are living – that we pray not only on account of and according to God’s general providence, but also on account of and according to his special providence. We learn to pray for God’s will to be done – not because this is some remorseless impersonal force, but because we recognize his wisdom and sovereignty alongside his Fatherly care of us. And we are permitted to wrestle with God in our prayers. We see this in the Psalms of course, which give voice to human doubts. The remarkable instance is of course Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane. The pleading of the Son - that it be some other way - clearly do not fall outside the bounds of what is righteous behavior for the creature. At the same time he acknowledges the priority of the Father’s will – which is done, and revealed to us, by the crucifying of the messiah. The prayer of Paul for the Colossians that they be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding (1:9) points not to some secret knowledge of providence, but to the revelation of the will of God the Father in the cross of the Son. Praying for the provision of daily bread – or the eschatological bread – points to the way in which the Lord Jesus is the answer to the prayer he teaches his disciples. The special providential nature of prayer does not negate the general providential aspect – rather it orders it, in Christ, to an eschatological end.

6. What we get
What can expect when we pray? Firstly, we can expect that our prayers are heard by a God who as our Father wants for our good, and has provided for us in Christ. Secondly, we can expect that he delights to use and respond to our prayers. The NT always speaks as if God responds to our prayers in ‘real time’ (not just that by chance our prayers coincide with what was decided beforehand). Thirdly, we can expect in particular to receive the counsel and knowledge of the will of God that the Holy Spirit provides as we pray. Not for nothing Calvin calls prayer a treasure. As he describes it, prayer to the Father through the Son in the power of the Spirit is itself its own answer.

7. So – pray without ceasing!
Why not? It seems that prayer is an undiscovered benefit of the Christian life for many of us – an un-exercised muscle that is surprisingly powerful when finally it is put to use. We neglect to pray because we don’t see how good God is, and what treasures lie stored up for us in prayer. What is more, we don’t pray because we don’t grasp the power and majesty of God. We confine our prayers, afraid to ask for too much, as if God were somehow either too stingy or too puny to give us what we ask for. What we need is to cultivate our faith in God’s goodness and his greatness – both of them unmistakeably revealed to us in the Son, by the Holy Spirit.

For whom Christ died, and John Calvin on the radio

I am part of a three-sided discussion on Michael Bird's blog on the thorny issue of 'For whom did Christ die?' My formidible opponents are Ben Witherington and Paul Helm!! Lucky I have got truth on my side ;-)

Last night I was part of a panel discussion on ABC Radio about John Calvin's influence. You can listen in here, when the podcast becomes available.

Asking 1

The Christian recognizes the providence of God as it is realized in the cross and resurrection of Christ Jesus, and is unafraid to ask for what she needs; while at the same time praying ‘your will be done’...

1. The absurdity of what we are doing
Talking about and analysing prayer is a fraught practice. It is possible that dismembering prayer like this will dishonour the God to whom we pray. Just as an analysis of humour is rarely funny, a analysis of prayer can stifle prayer. It is worth reminding ourselves that prayer is not in the end an activity that can be really understood from the outside, despite what William James might have thought. Having said that, thinking about prayer is vital, since there is so much anxiety and confusion amongst Christians about prayer and what it is.

2. Why we don’t pray
On the one side, our ability to pray is effected by our flesh – its tiredness, its proneness to distraction, its desires and needs. The husband is given the wife as a co-heir, ‘so that nothing may hinder his prayers’. Sexual abstinence between a married couple is only permitted by Paul for the purpose of prayer (1 Cor 7:5). Fasting is seen (though not commanded) as an accompaniment to prayer (Matt 6; Acts 13:3) – is this a reminder that prayer is many ways an onerous task requiring from us the self-mastery that we can only get from the Holy Spirit? On the other side, the failure to pray is actually often a fault in faith. That is, it is a misapprehension of who God is that deadens our prayers. This is not merely a flaw in our conception of God – it seems to be a flaw in the affections, a deficit in love for God. Authentic prayer is heartfelt, a genuine expression of our own dependence on God – hence the priority of private prayer given in Matt 6.

3. Motivated to pray?
So, what is the remedy to prayerlessness? Rightly, we fear making prayer a kind of work; or, we fear making prayer itself become a means for impressing God, or of nagging him. Calvin’s answer is simply that we are commanded to pray, on the one hand; but that this command comes attached to a promise of much benefit to us. Ask, and it shall be given to you. The person who comes to God in prayer therefore exercises both submission to his command and also trust in his promises. That is to say, the desire to pray is cultivated best by a deeper knowledge of the character of God. Calvin concludes: ‘accordingly, among our prayers, meditation both on God’s nature and on his Word is by no means superfluous’ (Calvin, Institutes III.20.13)

(To be continued...)

Thanksgiving

The Christian acknowledges God as the gracious source of all good things, in the creation and in redemption, and receives them with thanksgiving.

1. Another impossibility in the Christian life?
How could we ever thank him who made us and redeemed us? It seems presumptive that our thanks could ever be an adequate response to that we have received in Christ. But that is because we tend to lapse back into thinking of divine-human relations a operating according to an exchange economy. Human gratitude could never be the response which triggers the acceptance of God, or which forms a return of grace in some way. Properly understood, thanksgiving in prayer is the appropriate response to grace. Since faith is merely a taking hold of the promises of God, thanksgiving could never be more than this. Faith and thanksgiving are linked in just this way in the story of the tenth, Samaritan leper who alone returns to Jesus in thanks and to whom Jesus says ‘your faith has healed you’. (Luke 17:12-18). The story is as much an indictment on the nine, Israelite lepers who were ungrateful as it is a celebration of the gratitude of the Samaritan.

2. The antitype of gratitude: Israel in the desert
The experience of Israel in the desert illustrates for us the very reverse of the right response to the redemption wrought by Yhwh. If they are condemned for anything, it is for the sin of ingratitude. They forgot the blessings that they had received at his hand. They grumbled about his provision for them of food and drink. They complained about his invisibility and lack of immediacy. From this sin we may perhaps learn its opposite. We too live between Egypt and the promised land – and much we experience challenges the goodness of God. Like praise, the acts of thanksgiving remembers and rehearses the great deeds of God, appreciative of the blessings that he showers upon us and turning us to him in hope. In thanksgiving, the pray-er not only retells the great deeds of God: she recalls receiving the benefits of them for herself. As it turns out, Paul identifies a lack of thanks as crucial to the spiritual blindness of the human race as a whole in Romans 1:20-21. 20 Ever since the creation of the world his eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made. So they are without excuse; 21 for though they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their senseless minds were darkened.

3. The Psalms and thanksgiving
The thank offerings commanded as part of the sacrificial system (Lev 7:11-16) are, it could be suggested, designed to ensure that Israel did not forget to give thanks again. Whatever the case, the Psalms are overflowing with thankfulness to God. Some twenty or so Psalms enjoin Israel to thank the Lord: O give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever. 2 Let the redeemed of the LORD say so, those he redeemed from trouble 3 and gathered in from the lands, from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south.(Psalm 107:1-3). Once again we need to ponder the relevance of the Psalms for the Christian life – they articulate the pattern of prayerful response to the grace of God.

4. Jesus gives thanks
At several moments in Jesus’ life he gave thanks to his Father. Most often he did this over food – at the feeding of the five thousand, and at the Last Supper. Once again, there is in this receiving of food a counter to the ungratefulness of the Exodus generation for God’s provision for food. There is also a pointer to the significance of food as a symbol of God’s gift of the body of the substitute. Jesus also thanks the Father for having heard him (John 11:41) and for the paradoxical miracle of the revelation of the divine mysteries (Matt 11:25). That the Son thanks the Father shows grace and thanksgiving to be a part of the divine life
Thanking God and glorifying him belong together. This is why doxology and the closely related hymns have remained basic in Christian prayer. But in content the original Christian hymn is through and through Christological. Christian doxology extols God’s action in sending the Son and the glorifying of the Son by the Spirit. It is thus Trinitarian doxology in which thanking God for his redeeming work is taken up into the adoration of his manifested deity that now already anticipates the eschatological praising of God by the community that is brought to fulfilment in the new creation.
Wolfhart Pannenberg (Systematic Theology III.208)itself. Jesus’ prayer life, as the exemplary human worshipper, features thanksgiving, even though the model prayer he offers his disciple does not.

5. Early Christian prayer
Despite this lack of thanks in the Lord’s prayer, the motif of thanksgiving is ubiquitous in the prayers of the early church. Paul especially cannot pray without giving thanks. Paul wants all requests to God to be made with thanksgiving (Phil 4:6) and that unceasing prayer redound with thanks (1 Thess 5:18). As Pannenberg explains, gratitude for God’s saving action in Christ gives Christian prayer its context. Already as creatures we owe thanks to God (Rom 1:21); now in the power of the Spirit of Sonship we are able to thank the Father as we truly ought. Further, Paul’s prayers of thanks repeatedly mention the work of God in other Christians as God’s grace to him.

Dr Brian Rosner on Paul and the Law

Rosner on Paul and the Law

The sacrifice of praise

Doxology seems to be a good place to start an account of prayer because it is the eschatological picture of prayer. It is the task of the creature as a creature to glorify God; and so it will be in the end, in the final gathering around the throne. This is not merely to please God’s own vanity, but because it is the right purpose of the creature and brings the greatest dignity to the creature. This is the picture of Revelation with its numerous hymns.

But certainly, praise pleases God. In Hebrews 13:15 we read: Through him, then, let us continually offer a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that confess his name. There is no sense in which, of course, this praise of God is justifying. It is not the performance of a condition. It is only ‘through him’ that this ‘pleasing’ of God is enabled. But it is the case that in him the sinful human being is enabled to get on with the task of living out the call of human beings to please him. It pleases God in that the creature is praising him: not that he needs to know the information contained in the doxology, or craves compliments, but rather that he craves the worship of his people.

That it pleases God makes praise an inescapably aesthetic act. As a form of words, praise elicits from creatures their creativity and imagination. Praise is not the rapid and efficient transferral of information – rather it exists for the enjoyment of the recipient. Praise involves detailing and cataloguing the praiseworthy features of the person involved. It takes time. The setting of praise to music is not accidental. Praise is, then, sacrificial in that involves the time and the creativity of the praiser.

Praise is a theological act, because right praise involves a true doctrine of God. It involves recalling God’s characteristics revealed in his great acts. The Psalms frequently rehearse Israel’s history and infer from these encounters with Yhwh his praiseworthy characteristics. In the NT, it is not surprising that praise becomes thoroughly Christological in content. Christian praise recalls and rehearses the particular and decisive work of God in Christ. The great examples are of course the Philippian and Colossian hymns. The chorus of praise is led by Christ (Heb 2:12) but also has Christ as its object.

Declaring the praises of God has a missionary dimension as well (1 Peter 2:9-10). It is part of the mediatorial calling of the church that they are to amplify the praise of God in the hearing of the nations. But this is not to reduce the praise of God merely to a horizontal act for the benefit of humans. It is, miraculously, in Christ, something we can do for God.

The Perseverance of the Saint

Reformed theologians, developing the tradition of Augustine, have always asserted that the work of perseverance is a divine work. There are of course many, many texts in scripture that urge believers to vigilance and perseverance to the end, to remain in Christ, to continue in faith and so on. There are texts that certainly speak as if one could deny the faith: 1 Cor 10:12, 2 Peter 2:1 and so on. Most theological traditions have taught therefore that it is possible to lose grace once one has received it. The question is, however, whether God could allow a grace he begins to be ruined by the power of sin. Even Augustine divided into two the kinds of grace a believer receives, asserting that only the second, superadded grace produced perseverance.

The Reformed have explained by contrast that perseverance is a work of God through believers. In regeneration and faith he gives a grace that is unbreakable and inadmissible. The admonitions and warnings of scripture are ‘the way in which God himself confirms his promise and gift through believers’ (Bavinck). Apostates in scripture (1 Tim 4:1, Heb 6:4-8, 2 Pet 2:18-22) must, according to Bavinck, be either examples of incomplete apostasy (later restored?) or evidence of false conversion in the first place. Although I think his exegesis at these points is stretched beyond credulity, the theological point is a good one: God cannot/does not break his own covenant. Even Paul mourning over Israel does not conclude the God is faithless, even when Israel is. Rightly construed, the doctrine is of great assurance and comfort to Christian believers – God who begins a good work in us will bring it to completion (Phil 1:6). The Christian life is not fragile, even though it is tested.

The Reformed doctrine should not however be the cause of undue speculation as to one's inward state, nor should it give rise to passivity. The warnings to endure and to resist should be heeded as serious, live warnings. Hebrews seems able to blend at the one time both admonishment and comfort – which makes sense if perseverance, like the Christian life itself, is a divine work in and through human agents. It is the inward search for a certainty of one's own heart that makes the doctrine disturbing just when it is claimed it should be most comforting. Actually, the comfort lies in the character of God revealed in Christ: that even human weakness is not an obstacle to his purposes. But human fickleness is not thereby excused.

Perhaps the doctrine is better labelled 'the perseverance of the saint'. There was one who perservered, and so we can hold out confident hope of our own perseverance. Christ was tempted in every way as we are but did not sin.

Is it just me, or is there a decency pattern emerging?

Ok, a theory. In the last couple of years in Australian public and media affairs, things seems to have taken a surprisingly conservative turn towards 'the decent'. Firstly, Big Brother got cancelled. Then there was outrage at the Bill Henson affair - mystifying the artistic community. Then the success of the uber-nice Masterchef. The outrages over Matty Johns (footballer and orgyist), The Chaser and now Kyle and Jackie O.

In almost every case, there has been a volley of opprobrium aimed at media figure who transgressed. I am alarmed somewhat by the way in which no forgiveness seems possible in this, I have to say. But I wonder if it is premature to surmise that Australians are:
1 - sick of having the freedom of public speech, or the freedom to behave as you want, abused;
2 - sick of the coarsening of the public space;
3 - unwilling to use law to respond to it;
4 - barely able to articulate why it is so, but finding common ground with many others on what 'the good' might look like all of a sudden.

Interesting times...

Reading a life

Biographies prove to be one of the best-selling niches in the book industry. There is something about the attempt to capture in one narrative the course of a human life that is always fascinating to those of us who have to live human lives in search of meaning. This is especially the case if the person is remarkable in some way, though the biography of an ordinary person who lived in extraordinary times can have its own fascination.

And how does one encapsulate a life in a single literary narrative and do it justice? Of course, the biographer must always be somewhat aware of the artificiality of the process. They have to weave a coherent story from what is necessarily fragmentary – from such letters that survive, from the eyewitnesses that are willing to speak about the person, from their knowledge of the context of the person’s life. From all this external material, they have to give us what we modern readers want to know – an insight into the motives and feelings of another person. From what is on the outside we try to get at what is on the inside.

This is very much an idea that has a Christian, and especially Protestant, source. The idea of self-examination, of scrutinising motives and temptations, of revealing one’s secrets, of the human self being a coherent whole – these are ideas that enter into Western culture through Christianity. If you read ancient biographies (such as those of Plutarch) the focus is on the character’s outward actions rather than on their inner life.

And, as we know, giving a bare record of a person’s words and actions is of limited interest and makes for a very dull biography! The good biographer gives us an explanation, not simply a description.
That is, a biographer acts as a judge. But how should this be done without knowing everything? What is really the key to summing up a life?
It is not surprising, therefore, that biographies can be extremely controversial. One of my favourites, The Passion of Michel Foucault, caused an enormous stir when it was published and resulted in a number of counter-biographies. Poet Les Murray’s biography, written by Peter Alexander, was originally pulped because of its contentious material.
Here are some biographies that, to my mind, have succeeded the best. The list is limited by my limited reading – guided of course by my prejudices! Which would you add?
Patrick White: A Life, by David Marr. A truly outstanding account of a difficult genius, written with the co-operation of his subject but none the less sparing us none of his faults. It is hard to think of a better model of what a biography should be.
Ludwig Wittgenstein: The Duty of Genius, by Ray Monk. This is a moving account of a truly remarkable man. I learned much affection for this complicated and surprisingly spiritual man from Monk’s work.
Vaclav Havel: A Political Life in Six Acts by John Keane. Keane experiments by trying to narrate the Czech president’s life as a quasi-Shakespearean tragedy – including speculating about his future funeral. It doesn’t quite work, but the journey is filled with grand views on mid-20th century life.
Philip Larkin: A Writer’s Life by Andrew Motion. Fans of Larkin weren’t quite ready for what they discovered in Motion’s work, which revealed the unpleasant private truth about one of England’s favourite literary sons. But it is a humanly true biography: great genius and humanity exists side by side with the sordid and the petty.