Friday, May 30, 2008

Jamey Bennett on "When Abstract Meets the Road"

http://www.wittenberghall.com/index.asp?Action=Anchor&CategoryID=5&BlogID=655

When the Abstract Meets the Road

Jamey Bennett reinvisions some muddled five year old musings on a church service bulletin


I was sitting in church. It was Maundy Thursday, 2003. Presbyterian church, Nashville. My mind was wandering. I began to doodle on the bulletin.

I didn't admit it at the time, but I was living a double-life of sorts -- or at least a wavering life. I was editor of an Online Christian magazine with a decent following. It was there that I droned on and on about the goodness of God. I actively proclaimed the name of Jesus from concert stages across the country with my music group. I was worshiping regularly at my own church and sporadically at other people's church services. I was preparing to teach in a Christian preschool in a few weeks, as well. My prayer life wasn't even half-bad, even if it was somewhat repetitive and often involved what some call the "Jesus Prayer" – Lord Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.

Save for the prayer, my faith was mostly relegated to the abstract.

And all the while I was struggling for faith, struggling to get a grip, and struggling to live a holy life. I was struggling to keep myself pure, struggling not to over-indulge, and struggling to handle a tough family situation. And most of the struggle? By myself.

Or, perhaps, I'd just about given up the struggle. But just like Simon Peter, I didn't know where else to go to find the words of eternal life, but Jesus (John 6:68). My favorite book at the time was, rightly, Mike Yaconelli's Messy Spirituality. I was a mess, and I knew it. And Mike helped me to keep from being embarrassed about it. Yet, I kept much of it to myself.

Now, don't get me wrong. To borrow a line from somewhere, I was no technicolor sinner; no one would make a movie of my life at this time. I was not an alcoholic, nor a sexual deviant – but I was living a few holy days for every debauched day...or a few holy moments for every debauched moment.

You see, I diagnosed my problem on a church bulletin that day, and I didn't realize it for another six months. That day I determined that the abstract theology in my head was not consistently meeting the road in my life. My theology made sense in the pulpit and on the chalkboard. But it came up woefully short in my day to day life. When I was sitting in a pot circle (though I did pass on grass), when a girl broke my heart, and when loved ones where suffering pain that I couldn't take away...and when I suffered from my own weaknesses and temptations. 

My theology didn't always make sense when I got annoyed, or in the light of a friend's divorce, and it didn't make sense when I put little interest and stock in widows and orphans. It was all abstract to me.

Add to that, I was isolated in so many ways from real friendship.

If we must think of our doctrine in syllogisms, we must think of our doctrine as syllogisms rooted in reality. And by reality, I mean something incarnational – a garden, a fence, a hearth, and a meal for a widow. And syllogisms rooted in real Christian friendship.

The cross isn't meant to be mere theological abstraction – and it certainly isn't merely one out of five points in a theological paradigm. The cross is truly existential reality.

Abstract theology is not bad in and of itself – it can be rather enjoyable, and in times of great controversy, perhaps even helpful (but, then again, maybe not). In fact, many of us would claim to be "wired" that way. But it is certainly not the chief end of man, and without question, not the chief end of the cross. But you wouldn't know that the way some people talk about redemption. And the problem is, the scriptures just weren't written that way.

Luther sometimes warned against thinking about election too much (for one example). Abstract thinking can, to put words in Luther's mouth, turn a doctrine presented in Scripture as a comfort into a scary, hairy teaching. Election to Luther was pure Gospel – but I used to make it a man-eater. Justification, for another example, should be about free liberation – but the temptation in some circles is to use it as a billy-club for pet theological constructs and controversies.

I'm not entirely sure what the solution is. But I do know this: We see through a mirror dimly, but it clears up just a bit when we see sovereignty in the cross, election in kindness to an orphan, and glory in suffering. Abstraction is often distraction. And one way out of abstraction is facing reality side by side with real friend.

However you slice it, the way up is down. And the way out is through...but not alone.

Posted by Jamey W. Bennett - 5/29/2008

Derek Brown on "How to Waste your Theological Education"

http://fromthestudy.wordpress.com/2008/05/14/how-to-waste-your-theological-education/

How to Waste Your Theological Education

1. Cultivate pride by writing only to impress your professors instead of writing to better understand and more clearly communicate truth.

2. Perfect the fine art of corner-cutting by not really researching for a paper but instead writing your uneducated and unsubstantiated opinions and filling them in with strategically placed footnotes.

3. Mistake the amount of education you receive with the actual knowledge you obtain. Keep telling yourself, "I'll really start learning this stuff when I do my Th.M or my Ph.D."

4. Nurture an attitude of superiority, competition, and condesension toward fellow seminary students. Secrectly speak ill of them with friends and with your spouse.

5. Regularly question the wisdom and competency of your professors. Find ways to disrespect your professors by questioning them publicly in class and by trying to make them look foolish.

6. Neglect personal worship, Bible reading and prayer.

7. Don't evangelize your neighbors.

8. Practice misquoting and misrepresenting positions and ideas you don't agree with. Be lazy and don't attempt to understand opposing views; instead, nurse your prejudices and exalt your opinions by superficial reading and listening.

9. Give your opinion as often as possible - especially in class. Ask questions that show off your knowledge instead of questions that demonstrate a genuine inquiry.

10. Speak of heretical movements, teachers, and doctrine with an air of disdain and levity.

11. Find better things to do than serve in your local church.

12. Fill your life with questionable movies, television, internet, and music.

13. Set aside fellowship and accountability with fellow brothers in Christ.

14. Let your study of divine things become dull, boring, lifeless, and mundane.

15. Chip away at your integrity by signing your school's covenant and then breaking it under the delusion that, "Those rules are legalistic anyway."

16. Don't read to learn; read only to refute what you believe is wrong.

17. Convince yourself that you already know all this stuff.

18. Just study. Don't exercise, spend time with your family, or work.

19. Save major papers for the last possible moment so that you can ensure that you don't really learn anything by writing them.

20. Don't waste your time forming friendships with your professors and those older and wiser than you.

21. Make the mistake of thinking that your education guarantees your success in ministry.

22. Don't study devotionally. You'll never make it as a big time scholar if you do that. Scholars need to be cool, detached, and unbiased - certainly not Jesus freaks.

23. Day dream about future opportunities to the point that you get nothing out of your current opportunity to learn God's Word.

24. Do other things while in class instead of listening - like homework, scheduling, letter-writing, and email.

25. Spend more time blogging than studying.

26. Avoid chapel and other opportunities for corporate worship.

27. Argue angrily with those who don't see things your way. Whatever you do, don't read and meditate on II Timothy 2:24-26 and James 3:13-18 as you prepare for ministry.

28. Set your hopes on an easy, cushy pastorate for when you graduate. Determine now not to obey God when he calls you to serve in a difficult church.

29. Look forward to the day when you won't have to concern yourself with all this theology and when you will be able to just "preach Jesus."

30. Forget that your primary responsibility is care for your family through provision, shepherding, and leadership.

31. Master Calvin, Owen, and Edwards, but not the Law, Prophets, and Apostles.

32. Gain knowledge in order to merely teach others. Don't expend the effort it takes to deal with your own heart.

33. Pick apart your pastor's sermons every week. Only point out his mistakes and his poor theological reasoning so you don't have to be convicted by anything he says.

34. Protect yourself from real fellowship by only talking about theology and never about your personal spiritual issues, sin, and struggles.

35. Comfort yourself with the delusion that you will start seriously dealing with sin as soon as you become a pastor; right now it's not really that big a deal.

36. Don't serve the poor, visit the sick, or care for widows and orphans - save that stuff for the uneducated, non-seminary trained, lay Christians.

37. Keep telling yourself that you want to preach, but don't ever seek opportunities to preach, especially at local rescue missions and nursing homes. Wait until your church candidacy to preach your first sermon.

38. Let envy keep you from profiting from sermons preached by fellow students.

39. Resent behind-the-scenes, unrecognized service. Only serve in areas where you are sure you will receive praise and accolades.

40. Appear spiritual and knowledgeable at all costs. Don't let others see your imperfections and ignorance, even if it means you have to lie.

41. Love books and theology and ministry more than the Lord Jesus Christ.

42. Let your passion for the gospel be replaced by passion for complex doctrinal speculation.

43. Become angry, resentful and devastated when you receive something less than an A.

44. Let your excitement for ministry increase or decrease in direct proportion to the accolades or criticisms you receive from your professors.

45. Don't really try to learn the languages - let Bible Works do all the work for you.


Friday, May 23, 2008

Bryan Cross on "What is the True Church (Part 1)" [Reformed vs. Roman Catholic]

http://principiumunitatis.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-is-true-church-part-1.html

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Francis A. Schaeffer
In the Fall of 1997, the Francis Schaeffer Institute at Covenant Theological Seminary sponsored a lecture series titled "What Is the True Church?". The Anglican position was presented by J.I. Packer. The Reformed view was presented by Douglas Kelly. The Orthodox position was presented by Nicholas Triantafilou. The Lutheran position was presented by Roger Pitellko. And the Catholic position was presented by Richard John Neuhaus. The audio of these talks can be downloaded for free here.

I was present at these talks; I was in my fourth year of seminary at the time. I remember coming away from this lecture series wondering what was the most fundamental reason that these men disagreed with each other. At that time, I did not understand what the *fundamental* underlying reason for the disagreement was, though I think I have a better understanding of it now, and I have been trying to write about it here on Principium Unitatis over the past year. In particular, I remember listening to Fr. Neuhaus' talk and thinking the following: Here is a man who obviously loves Christ, a man learned in Scripture, theology and Church history. How could he possibly not understand that Scripture teaches what we [Presbyterians] believe? He is not the sort of person (in his character) to distort Scripture deliberately. Nor is he an anti-intellectual who is unaware of all that our great Reformed scholars have written in defense of Reformed theology. Why did he become Catholic, instead of becoming Presbyterian? How could he possibly know all that he knows, and be a genuine truth-loving person, and still leave Protestantism, for the Catholic Church, of all things!? Why couldn't the highly-skilled exegetes on our faculty at Covenant (and at Concordia) simply take him aside and show him from the Hebrew and Greek that his interpretations of Scripture were clearly wrong?

It was only later that I read Fr. Neuhaus' article "How I Became the Catholic I Was". But at that time (i.e. 1997), I could not see or even conceive of the Catholic paradigm, about which I wrote last year (see here). I did not even know there was such a thing. I could see theology only from a Protestant point of view, and from that point of view, Fr. Neuhaus' Catholic position was obviously and seriously flawed. For that reason, Fr. Neuhaus' move to Catholicism was a mystery to me; I simply couldn't make sense of it. So I did what I did with all those other things that didn't make sense to me theologically -- I put it in a mental closet and closed the door. But the door wouldn't stay closed, and the closet kept accumulating more and more "does-not-compute"s.

What I did not understand then, but understand much better now, is that what divides Christians are meta-level disagreements. (See my recent comment on meta-level questions here.) So often, when we try to resolve that which divides us, we fail to recognize and address the meta-level points of disagreement.
But given Tertullian's admonition, it does not seem appropriate to enter into a debate about first-order questions without first considering the meta-level questions. When a person is operating within a paradigm, and trying to resolve a disagreement with another person who is operating within a different paradigm, the discussion will make no headway toward agreement until they first recognize that they are each operating in a distinct paradigm, and then learn each other's paradigms, and then compare each other's paradigms on the basis of common ground, not question-begging claims.

Here I want to compare the Reformed answer to "What is the True Church?" with the Catholic answer to that question, and then point out the meta-level differences, that is, the underlying differences that account for the differences between the Reformed and Catholic answers to this question. I will do this in two parts. Part 1 will focus on the difference between the Reformed and Catholic conceptions of the marks of the Church. Part 2 will focus on the meta-level differences that lie behind these conceptual differences.

I was taking notes on Douglas Kelly's comments on the four marks of the Church as given in the Creed: Unam, Sanctum, Catholicam, et Apostolicam Ecclesiam, i.e. the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. As I was doing so, I noticed that Kelly's conceptions of "one" and "apostolic" were formalized, that is, de-materialized. When I say "de-materialized" I am referring to matter in the sense of "form and matter". A de-materialized conception of the gospel, for example, reduces it to a message (see here). A de-materialized conception of the Church is a kind of gnosticism, as I argued here. When I noticed that Kelly's conceptions of "one" and "apostolic" were de-materialized, I wondered if the same was true of his conceptions of "holy" and "catholic". Those turned out to be de-materialized as well. Then I looked at paragraph 881 in the Catholic Catechism, which reads:


"This is the sole Church of Christ, which in the Creed we profess to be one, holy, catholic and apostolic." These four characteristics, inseparably linked with each other, indicate essential features of the Church and her mission. The Church does not possess them of herself; it is Christ who, through the Holy Spirit, makes his Church one, holy, catholic, and apostolic, and it is he who calls her to realize each of these qualities." (my emphasis)

If these four marks are "inseparably linked to each other", then it is no coincidence that all four of Kelly's conceptions of the marks of the Church are de-materialized in comparison to the Catholic conceptions of the marks of the Church. To de-materialize one of the marks is necessarily, it seems, to de-materialize them all. And de-materializing our conceptions of the marks of the Church means that we lose sight of the Church as a "visible sacrament" of the unity that come to mankind through Christ. (Lumen Gentium 9)

Unam:
The Catholic understanding of the unity of the Church is that the Church is visibly one, because the Church is the *Body* of Christ. Notice that this is not merely a formal (i.e. doctrinal unity), or an abstract unity, or an immaterial unity. The Church is one hierarchically organized body, one institution. It is not a mere collection or plurality of individuals or groups. That would still be, in actuality, a plurality only treated conceptually as if it were a unity. Nor is the Church merely one in belief and practice. The Church is one in being; it is one visible body or institution.

The Reformed conception of the unity of the Church, on the other hand, is de-materialized in that the Church's unity is thought to be fundamentally spiritual, immaterial, and invisible. In the Reformed conception, unity is an invisible mark of the invisible Church. According to this conception, it would be good if we visibly manifested that invisible unity we all already have in Christ, but visible unity is not an essential mark of the Church. I have said much about this recently here, here, here, and here.

Sanctum:
The Catholic understanding of the holiness of the Church is that the Church is actually holy. This does not mean that her members on earth have perfect holiness, or that they all have the same degree of holiness, or even that the majority are exceptionally holy; in fact we are all still sinners. Nor does it mean that
in their good deeds pagans and heretics can never outshine Catholics. But it does mean that the Church stands apart from the world in her godly practice and sanctification; she testifies by the manner of her life and witness to the righteousness of God, the dignity of human life, the goodness of creation, the future judgment and the life of the world to come. Her members on earth have a "real though imperfect" holiness (CCC 825), especially insofar as they receive the life of Christ through the means of grace in the sacraments. Moreover, the canonized saints are examples to us of the sanctifying transformative power of the Holy Spirit working in and through the Church. Through the continuous use of the sacraments and prayer, we are truly and actually transformed into virtuous people.

The common Reformed conception of holiness by contrast, is formalized and de-materialized. According to this conception, our holiness is essentially something imputed to us, a legal declaration in which Christ's righteousness is credited to our account, covering us from God's wrath, but not transforming us into persons to whom God could honestly say, "Well done good and faithful servant." All our deeds are as filthy rags. So the Church and the believer are treated by God *as if* holy, as if as holy as Christ, but not transformed so as to be actually holy. (I have explained all this in more detail here. To qualify, I'm speaking of the common contemporary Reformed conception of the gospel, not Calvin's own position.)

Catholicam:
The term means "universal", and as a mark of the Church it means "what is according to the totality", or "in keeping with the whole". (CCC 830) The Catholic conception of the term "Catholicam" is organic and narrative. The Church extends to wherever Christ is, wherever Christ offers Himself in preaching and sacrament, to every nation in the world. But this extends back in time, as an organic narrative, to the very birth of the Church on Pentecost. In that way, the Church is catholic insofar as she encompasses all that has been believed and practiced by the whole Church from the beginning of her history, through her organic development, to the present.

The Reformed conception of "catholic" is de-materialized in two ways. First, it tends to lay aside the time period from the fifth century to the 16th century as a great apostasy. I have called this notion "ecclesial deism", and explained it in more detail here. Second, Reformed denominations are provincial and regional by their very nature. They take names like "Presbyterian Church United States of America", or "Reformed Church of America" or "Presbyterian Church in America". How can anything with the name USA in it be the "catholic" Church? When PCUSA missionaries go to other countries in Africa and Asia, their converts become members of the PCUSA. There is no universal Presbyterian or Reformed Church whose members gather from all over the world for general assembly. The upcoming merger of the World Alliance of Reformed Churches with the Reformed Ecumenical Council to form the World Communion of Reformed Churches shows an awareness of the need for catholicity. But I have argued here that to attempt to achieve catholicity by forming a new institution is to try to do the impossible, i.e. to re-found the Church. The only way to achieve true catholicity is to return to the one institution that Christ Himself founded on the Apostles.


As for the objection that the "Roman Catholic Church" has the word 'Roman' in it, and is therefore provincial, the word 'Roman' is not in the name of the Catholic Church -- see the title of the Catechism at right. The name "Roman Catholic Church" was a term coined by Protestants.

Apostolicam:
The Catholic conception of apostolicity as a mark of the Church is sacramental in nature. The Church is apostolic in that it was built on the foundation of the Apostles, often literally on their bones. (See here.) That Church is apostolic whose ministers were formally authorized and sent by those who were authorized and sent [in a line of unbroken succession] by the Apostles, preserving full communion with the episcopal successor of the Apostle Peter. Those whom the Apostles authorized and sent preserve the Apostles 'teaching and doctrine.

The Reformed conception of apostolicity, by contrast, is de-materialized in that it does not include sacramental succession from the Apostles, i.e. a succession of authorizations by the laying on of hands, extending all the way to the present day from the Apostles themselves. Rather, the Reformed conception of apostolicity is entirely formal (in the form and matter sense of 'form'), for it is defined as the Apostles' doctrine. This is why the Reformed communities posited two (or three) marks of the Church: (1) the right preaching of the Word, the proper administration of the sacraments, and (3) ecclesiastical discipline. But this only begs the question: Who has the authoritative determination of what is "right preaching of the Word" and "proper administration of the sacraments"? The common Reformed answer is: "The Holy Spirit speaking through the Scriptures." But if we ask, "And who has the authoritative determination of what the Holy Spirit is speaking through the Scriptures?", we get some answer like "the people of God". And if we ask, "And who are the 'people of God'?", we generally get some answer like, those who have right preaching of the Word and proper administration of the sacraments. At that point we have simply moved around in a circle. That is why removing the matter from the conception of apostolicity entails both individualism and its necessary byproduct, ecclesial fragmentation, as I argued here and here. For more on apostolicity see my response to Sean Lucas here, my comments on apostolicity and Montanistic Gnosticism here, and my comments on the implications for apostolicity from Acts 15 and Romans 10 here.)

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Ben Meyers on Barth's Church Dogmatics in a Week

http://faith-theology.blogspot.com/2005/11/church-dogmatics-in-week.html

Monday, 28 November 2005

Church Dogmatics in a week

Karl Barth's Church Dogmatics is one of the longest theological works ever written. The work was published as 13 massive tomes; and although Barth had planned to divide the work into five main volumes, he did not live long enough to complete even the fourth volume.

It took Barth decades to write the Church Dogmatics; and it takes a couple of solid years to read the whole work through. But since ours is the generation of microwave ovens and fast food, I thought it would be appropriate to offer a one-week summary of the Church Dogmatics.

So below I have posted a single-sentence summary of each of the 13 books that make up the Church Dogmatics, along with my choice of a notable section, and a quote from each book. Naturally, my tongue is in my cheek when I describe this as a "summary," since Barth, more than any other theologian, resists even the most elaborate attempts at systematic summary. His thought can never be summarised or reduced to a set of propositions, because it is in a constant state of movement, dialectic, and life. When we try to summarise Barth, we necessarily lose all that is most interesting and most vital in his thought—just as we would lose everything that matters if we tried to "summarise" one of Shakespeare's plays.

Just as we can understand and appreciate Shakespeare only by experiencing his language firsthand, so we can understand and appreciate Barth only by reading him, only by experiencing the extraordinary power and dynamic movement of his thought.

With that disclaimer aside, let me now heartlessly betray Barth by offering a sort of fast-food version of the Church Dogmatics....

Dr. Niel Nielson on "Free to Choose Boldly" [Decision making]

http://president.blogs.covenant.edu/2008/04/14/free-to-choose-boldly/

Free to Choose Boldly

With our 2008 Commencement less than three weeks away, I am keenly aware of the excitement and nervousness that grip our graduating seniors (and their parents!). Covenant has provided the context for mind-stretching, relationship-building, discipline-creating, gospel-orienting study and life. Now it's time to move into the next stage of God's providential calling. Many of them have long-term plans in place for jobs, graduate schools, missions, weddings – clear next steps in pursuit of God's specific callings. But some are unsure about exactly what they should be doing and where they should be doing it. And they continue to think and pray and inquire, finding work and homes "for now" as they look ahead.

This is a time when many graduating seniors would love to hear that voice from heaven announcing the future and giving out work assignments! Stories of such clarity, as worthy and wonderful as they are, often lead the rest of us – the vast majority of us – to a kind of discouragement about our own futures. In the absence of God's voice, how do we know what to do? How do we find the right path? How do we avoid missing God's purpose for our lives?

Mark Dever, senior pastor of Capitol Hill Baptist Church in Washington, DC, wrote recently about "the bondage of 'guidance,'" the desire for a subjective sense of leading which "is too often, in contemporary piety, binding our brothers and sisters in Christ, paralyzing them from enjoying the good choices that God may provide, and causing them to wait wrongly before acting."

This past week I spoke with a Covenant student who is deeply troubled by the lack of a sense of God's leading and a specific path. He seems to be paralyzed in just the way that Dever describes, in bondage to the expectation that God simply must provide the blueprint of his future before he can take the next step.

Dever comments on his own sense of God's calling to ministry on Capitol Hill: "I realized then (and now) that I could be wrong about that supposition."

I was free in 1993 to stay in England, or teach at a seminary, either of which would have been delightful opportunities. I understand that I was free to make these choices. But I chose, consulting Scripture, friends, wisdom, and my own subjective sense of the Lord's will, to come to DC. And even if I were wrong about that, I had (and have) that freedom in Christ to act in a way that is not sin. And I understand my pastoring here not to be sin. So I am free. Regardless of the sense of leading I had.

I encouraged this student to define his options, to consider his own desires and capabilities, to weigh pros and cons, to get the counsel of wise folks who care about him, to faithfully and prayerfully assess the options in light of Scripture in order to detect disobedience in any of them – and then to choose! I earnestly believe that, as long as the path is not sinful, God will be delighted to bless him as this first step leads to others and this one very partial view leads to further vistas.

My father felt, deeply and continually during his high school years, that God was calling him to pastoral ministry, and he never wavered through college and seminary and almost sixty years of ministry life. And yet I am convinced that he could have followed a very different path, putting his considerable gifts and energies to work in business or education to the glory of God. Of course, looking back, we can be sure that God was directing his steps; his life's work was just as God intended. But from the front side, it was a combination of his sense of call with the encouragement of family and friends, his marriage to my mother, and decisions about college and jobs – for each of which he did NOT have clear spiritual guidance but rather made choices based on what seemed at the time to be the best way forward.

Three years ago, our oldest son graduated with a degree in English and a heart for the church, but without a firm path to follow. So he took a job in a small investment management company providing customer support and financial analysis, and he also entered a ministry internship program at a wonderful church in the Hyde Park area of Chicago. As the months passed, the opportunity to go to seminary opened up, still in the Chicago area so that he could continue his internship, and he is now completing the second year of his Master of Divinity program and moving into a near-full-time role at the church as the pastoral intern for the church's third congregation on the near west side of Chicago.

My wife would tell a similar story about God's unfolding plan after college graduation: a period of odd jobs (working at a day care center, teaching private piano lessons, temp office work) and hopeful expectation as I did my graduate work at Vanderbilt, and then to her delight the opportunity to pursue graduate studies herself.

My own experience supports the point as well. While I was "sure" that I wanted to teach philosophy and headed straight into graduate school, the years have demonstrated that the path of God's providence is often – always? – very different from what we planned and could have ever known.

So how did I decide to move from college teaching to business to pastoral ministry to the presidency at Covenant? It was, as Dever says, the wonderful combination of providential timing, wise counsel, fervent prayer, examination of Scripture, and the sense of God's releasing purpose. Each opportunity seemed to gather up a variety of factors that made the move make sense to us.

We are free to walk forward boldly. God has given us minds and talents and desires; he commands us to live obediently according to the Scriptures no matter what our circumstance; he brings us friends and mentors; and he puts before us opportunities and pathways. As long as the path is not sinful, we can feel free to make the very best decision we know how to make, trusting that God is directing our steps and will lead us into his blessing.

Published on 14 Apr 2008 at 3:18 pm.

Mark Dever on "The Bondage of Guidance" [Decision making]

http://blog.togetherforthegospel.org/2008/02/the-bondage-of.html

February 20, 2008

The Bondage of "Guidance"

by mdever

This will be brief. The way many Christians practice seeking God's will before they make a decision amounts to spiritual and emotional bondage. Christ has died to give us liberty and freedom (Rom. 6; Gal. 5; I Peter 2). We can only know the truth about God's will by what His Spirit reveals to us. He has revealed God's mind authoritatively in His Word. We should give ourselves to study what He has revealed. Personal reading, meditation, sermons, friends and books are all available to us to help us to better understand God's revealed will.

I do believe that God's Spirit will sometimes lead us subjectively. So, for instance, I am choosing to spend my life here on Capitol Hill because my wife & I sensed in 1993 that that is what God wanted us to do. However, I realized then (and now) that I could be wrong about that supposition. Scripture is NEVER wrong. I was free in 1993 to stay in England, or teach at a seminary, either of which would have been delightful opportunities. I understand that I was free to make those choices. But I chose, consulting Scripture, friends, wisdom, and my own subjective sense of the Lord's will, to come to DC. And even if I were wrong about that, I had (and have) that freedom in Christ to act in a way that is not sin. And I understand my pastoring here not to be sin. So I am free. Regardless of the sense of leading I had.

Most decisions I've made in my Christian life, I've made with no such sense of subjective leading. Maybe some would say that this is a mark of my spiritual immaturity. I understand this to be the way a redeemed child of God normally lives in this fallen world before the fullness of the Kingdom comes, Christ returns, and immediate, constant, unbroken fellowship with God is re-established.

A subjective sense of leading--when we've asked for it (as in James 1:5 we ask for wisdom) and when God freely gives it--is wonderful. The desire for such a subjective sense of leading, however, is too often, in contemporary evangelical piety, binding our brothers and sisters in Christ, paralyzing them from enjoying the good choices that God may provide, and causing them to wait wrongly before acting.

Beware of the bondage of "guidance."