Thank God For Karl Barth

I realize that’s a strange thing to be saying in some of the circles in which I run. Karl Barth is the poster boy for neo-Orthodoxy. But I think Barth gets too much criticism for the “neo” part and not enough credit for the “orthodoxy” part. It simply cannot be denied that Bart’s critique of liberalism was pretty devastating.

I know that many people do not like his understanding of the Word of God (the Bible becomes the Word of God as it takes shape in our lives), and that’s a different discussion for a different day. But Barth was interested in recovering orthodoxy from those who were leaving it behind and the church really owes him a debt of gratitude for his work in that area.

Most conservatives view liberalism as being pretty vacuous, me included. We joked in college about the liberal prayer: “Oh God, if there is a God, please help us, if you can,” and that pretty much summed up where it seems liberalism is headed. Barth saw that and responded with his Church Dogmatics. I’ve seen plenty of good, conservative friends of mine who take one of those online tests about which theologian they’d be and many of them end up being closest to Barth. That’s because even those who despise neo-orthodoxy have greatly benefited from the theological recovery it helped to bring.

In theology, as in life, sometimes you take the good with the bad. Karl Barth was not perfect nor a perfect theologian, but conservatives owe him a debt of gratitude for his work in re-orienting theology back to orthodoxy.

Being With

I love theology and philosphy. I love to think and stretch my mind. It is one of the reasons I love to read so much. I once took a sort-of “spiritual gifts inventory” that gagued how we primarily relate to important things in our lives - specifically how we primarily find meaning in our faith. Some are primarily guided and energized by doing. Others are primarily energized by how they feel about God and their faith. Others, like me, find joy and fulfillment in thinking. It’s no wonder that one of the largest sections in my library is theology. While many pastors stock their shelves with books on leadership, method and/or devotion, those sections are small for me compared to theology and commentary.

It would be very easy for me to promote the idea that a significant part of our faith entails “right” theology. I believe theology is important and that there are some aspects of it that are vital, essential to the Christian faith.

But as I read the gospels I’m struck by how little those first disciples had right, doctrinally. Read more

Back In The Saddle

Ah…a week away on a mission trip and another of vacation and I’m finally back in the office. This week our church is having VBS, but I ended up withdrawing from the class I was planning to take at Northern Seminary. My intent was to audit the class. One, it was much cheaper to audit, and two, there was a lot of weekly work to do, plus I was only taking it because of an interest in the subject, not the grade.

Nevertheless, I got the required reading and have actually finished one of the books - The Cambridge Companion to Postmodern Theology, edited by Kevin Vanhoozer. Reading that one got me interested all over again in a book I’ve had on my reading list for a while, but have never gotten around to: Beyond Foundationalism: Shaping Theology in a Postmodern Context, by John Franke and Stanley Grenz, so I’m one chapter into that one now. I suspect what I’ve read so far will generate a few posts over the summer. In addition, I have The Postmodern God: A Theological Reader which is edited by Graham Ward and I’ve gotten through one chapter of Stanley Hauerwas’ book A Better Hope: Resources for a Church Confronting Capitalism, Democracy, and Postmodernity.

While all of that should provide some food for fodder, I’ll try not to get too technical in the discussion of them. It’s pretty heavy philosophy/theology and while I enjoy that sort of thing, I’m aware that many don’t. Hopefully there will be some practical things that come to the front that can be discussed here without us all feeling like we’re in a college class room.

Here are some things that are on my mind right now, some related to my current reading and some not: Read more

Perplexed

There’s a question I’ve had for some time now.  I’ve asked this question on other blogs and have never received an answer of any kind.  Perhaps you, dear reader, would like to take a stab at it.  [By the way, this isn’t one of those “set up” questions.  You know, the kind where I already have an answer and I’m just asking you so that I can pounce on your wrong answer if you give one.  I hate those kind of questions.  This is an honest one.]

It’s specifically a “Baptist” question, but even if you’re not Baptist and you have a perspective I hope you’ll share it.  Let me begin with some background. Read more

Life After Life After Death

That’s a phrase coined, I believe, by N. T. Wright. As I understand it he is referring to what life will be like in eternity.

I’ve been teaching through Hebrews and the writer/preacher of Hebrews shapes his message about faith in chapter eleven around a hopeful future. Those examples of faith believed God even when they did not live to see God’s promises fulfilled in their day. Their faith was a hopeful faith based on a vision of a world/kingdom that God would bring into being.

But if we are to live out that same sort of hopeful faith I believe we need a hopeful vision of the world/kingdom that God will bring into being as well, and that brings us to thoughts of heaven. But what is heaven like? What will life be like at the end of the age when God defeats the last enemy and becomes all in all?

John Eldredge writes about our (mis)conceptions of heaven as an “everlasting sing-along.” Is that what we have to look forward to? Will angels be playing harps to Fanny Crosby hymns? What exactly is life after life after death going to be like?

That is a question that we will be discussing in our Bible study this coming Sunday. What are your ideas? How would you respond to the question: “What will eternity be like?”

The Church - Autonomous?

Those churches that are a part of the "free-church" tradition have, for several hundred years, advocated a principle called "local church autonomy."  I can hear those words ringing in my head all the way back to my childhood in the Baptist church.  But it isn’t unique to Baptists.  John Hammett notes that there are more than 50 Christian denominations in America that practice "local church autonomy" and/or some form of congregational rule - a form of government in which the local congregation has the final say in doctrinal and practical matters.

Interestingly, James K. A. Smith suggests that the language of "local church autonomy" didn’t appear until after the philosophy of Immanuel Kant gained notoriety.  Kant advocated the "autonomous self" as a foundation for human experience.  It is this Kantian idea of autonomy that provides a common foundation for both liberal and fundamentalist streams of the theological spectrum.  It’s true.  There isn’t a fundamental difference in the fountain from which sprang John R. Rice and John Shelby Spong.  It was the fountain of autonomy.

Hammett qualifies local church autonomy with the phrase "under the authority of Christ."  But he then goes on to explain that the foundation of this notion is rooted in a belief that every believer possesses the Holy Spirit and that the Spirit speaks through each one, not some privileged number out of the group.  Now, I’m very much inclined to agree with him, but what I wonder is why we stop at the local church?  Isn’t the Spirit present in believers outside of that one local church?  Does the Spirit not also speak to/through those believers?  Is there a good reason we limit the "authority" of the Spirit’s voice spoken to/through those other believers other than that our names are on different local church rolls?

Hammett stipulates that there is no external ecclesiastical body outside of the local church to which the local church is answerable in an authoritative way, but I’m not talking about ecclesiastical bodies.  I’m talking about individual, Spirit-filled believers.  Yes, the New Testament shows us examples of local churches choosing their own leaders, determining doctrinal matters and administering their own church discipline.  But what is often ignored (or glossed over) is that the writers of the New Testament (some apostles, others not) don’t appear to be writing nice suggestions to the churches they addressed.  On one occasion the apostle Paul writes about a "rule" of his that applies to "all the churches."  As mentioned in an earlier post, the apostle John indicates that Demetrius erred because he was not submitting to John’s authority (and possibly the authority of others) and that when John arrived on the scene he would take appropriate action (3 John 9-10).  Yes, these two are apostles, but in a striking admission even Hammett acknowledges that Titus (a non-apostle) had a similar authority (the authority to appoint church leadership in a church to which he did not personally belong) and notes that he had such an authority due to his close relationship to the apostle Paul.

Is it just me or did we just take a step toward something very much like "apostolic succession?"  I mean, what about Titus’s close relationships?  Is it that far removed to suggest that the authority conferred upon Titus via his relationship to Paul might be conferred upon others because of their close relationship to Titus who had a close relationship to Paul?

No.  My point is that I don’t believe the New Testament is nearly so clear on "local church autonomy" as it might appear to some of us free-churchers.  Hammett notes that early Baptists were drawn to "associational" ties with one another and that early on the association existed to help advise the church in matters of doctrine and practice.  That function of the association has all but disappeared these days in favor of even greater "autonomy."  The church culture of our present day is not even all that opposed to practically thumbing their nose at such connections.  But as I’ve noted previously, I believe this is unwise.  Alone we are much more prone to error in both belief and practice.  Alone we shut our ears off to a good bit of not only what the Spirit is saying to other believers in other churches, but what the Spirit has been saying to the church for centuries and millennia.

We need to figure out how to recover our ability to hear the Spirit speak through others.  This doesn’t require formal denominational ties as long as we can maintain our connection to the larger church without falling back into some sort of self-reliant place of autonomy when we hear something we might not like or may be difficult to hear.  It also doesn’t mean that every pronouncement of an ecumenical council is authoritative for the church today.  But it means that we recognize that we are organically connected even if we are not organizationally connected.  To thumb our nose at other believers because they are not of the same flavor or brand as us is to thumb our nose at another part of our own body - which is a really odd picture.  I don’t believe we can maintain a position that says we are both organically connected and at the same time autonomous from one another.  The body metaphor that the apostle Paul uses for the church seems to me to require an organic view of the church and renders "local church autonomy" as something that begins to make little Biblical sense.

Back In The Saddle Again

Back from the lake.  I’ll have some pics later, probably Friday (that I took with my nifty new Canon 400D/Rebel XTi).

In the mean time, here’s a question that Dr. John Franke asked David Phillips not long ago: What does the Trinity mean to everyday life?  What is its practical meaning?

I’m reading some books on the subject as I look forward to collaborating on a book project with David, Joel Rainey and my brother Todd as we seek to give some answers to the question of the practical nature of the doctrine of the Trinity.  I’m actually pretty amazed at the number of recent books touching on this subject.  One I am enjoying right now is God the Holy Trinity: Reflections on Christian Faith and Practice, edited by Timothy George.

How would you answer Dr. Franke’s question?

The Myth of Objectivity

Posting has been a little sparse because I’ve been preoccupied - several funerals in the past two weeks, kids in soccer, cross country and basketball and, of course, the priority of taking in a few OU football games.

Thinking out loud: I believe there is such a thing as "objective" reality - or that there are things as they really are, not just as they are perceived.  I’ve even had friends tell me that they believe I’m one of the most objective people they know (don’t laugh!).  But the moment I say "I know…" doesn’t my knowing become subjective?  After all, I am a subject, not an object.  Thus, my knowing is the knowing of a subject - and thus subjective (by definition, it would seem).  I always have a context and my context will forever be shaped by certain contextual realities - my place of birth, my ethnic origin, my social/economic status, the particular family into which I was born, my educational background and a whole lot more.  My understanding of the world, how it works, who I am, what life is meant to be, are all heavily influenced by that context.

It should seem obvious that a white, middle-class, college educated, 21st Century American, son of a Baptist deacon and loving parents would think differently about the world and how it works than a poor, black, uneducated African, son of an abusive shaman father.  I think it is safe to say that even if the parents were Christian - say a middle-class Chinese laborer who’s mother works in a sweat shop making toys for Mattel.  Would we view the teachings of Scripture differently because of our context?  What makes the American context superior to all others when it comes to understanding something like Scripture?  Or am I wrong that we view it that way?  Because it sure seems to me, especially for Baptists in the south (and I’m broadly including Oklahoma here because of the strong Southern Baptist presence) that we view it that way.

These thoughts generated by a post from David Phillips.

The Vile Wickedness of Schisms

I try to stay away from Baptist issues as much as I can on this blog. I hope that what I have to say today is not seen simply as a Baptist issue, but as a Christian issue, a church issue, and a ministerial issue.

Bart Barber pastors FBC Farmersville, TX. He and I went back-and-forth a little on a previous post here and we’ve gone back-and-forth on a related post on his blog.

Bart is at pains to show how I and others are inconsistent because we, as Baptists, separate from other denominations that baptize infants, yet refuse to call those who baptize infants “unrepentant sinners.” I and others are inconsistent, according to Bart, because we do not call infant baptism sin yet we still separate based on baptismal beliefs. It is a greater sin, in Bart’s mind, to separate over something that is a theological conviction, but which is not sin. It is a violation of Christian unity.

Now, don’t go thinking Bart is some ecumenist holding out his hands to his Presbyterian brothers and sisters. In fact, he casts doubt on the fact of those Presbyterians being brothers and sisters at all (my apologies to all of you who may not practice believer’s baptism. May God have mercy on your souls). That being said, however, Bart seems to have no trouble with a Baptist inviting a Gentile, tax collecting, unrepentant Presbyterian preaching in his Baptist church. He wouldn’t want to “accuse” that Baptist of anything. He’s only interested in accusing infant baptizers and those who refuse to call them unrepentant sinners. Are you following along, here?

Bart was pressed to be consistent himself. Let’s hang millstones around the necks of these infant baptizers in obedience to Christ. To this Bart could only reply that he does not believe in sinless perfection in this life. He must think that the apostle John did.

But to turn all of this completely on its head, Bart would have no objection to FBC Farmersville calling an unrepentant glutton or gossip to serve as the pastor or on staff at their church, though he believes they should meet Biblical qualifications. Of course, Titus tells us that two of the qualifications for church leadership are self-control and discipline. How one can be self-controlled and disciplined and also be an habitual glutton or an habitual gossip is apparently a matter for some new theory of Biblical interpretation. Actually, if you cannot with logic and a reasonable use of the English language figure it out then you are a legalist.

Now, all of this is to illustrate the dangers of being schismatic. It is no wonder that throughout much of church history schismatics were viewed in a very negative light. Schismatics would narrow the church down to themselves and all who believe as they do (excepting a few friends they do not want to “accuse” of anything, of course). I predict that schismatics will end up splitting the Southern Baptist Convention within my lifetime, unless something changes. These are some of the men teaching in our Baptist seminaries and leading in positions in our denomination. They should be opposed at ever turn. For the sake of the gospel. For the sake of unity in Christ. They wonder why movements like Emergent pop up and gather steam. Well, my brothers and sisters, wonder no more.

Can You Hear Me Now?

I had a computer meltdown at the office this week.  It wasn’t a total meltdown.  I didn’t lose my data, but the fan on my processor went kerplunk and Dell, who is the only company to make a replacement, no longer makes a replacement.  I could get a used one from them for around $140 or I could get a new, faster PC with more bells and whistles for $400.  I got the new PC.

But I needed Colby to help me get all of my stuff from the old computer to the new one, get it set up so that it runs ok and is properly networked into our system.  Thanks, Colby!

As I was sitting in my office this morning reading commentaries on Hebrews Colby was sitting at my desk working on the new computer.  We started talking about matters of spiritual formation.  He has a background in the medical field and got to talking about brain mapping as it relates to our spiritual formation as well as our intellectual formation and how that relates to issues such as coping, character and values.

KABOOM!  [Yes, that sound you heard was my brain exploding.]

It is interesting to Colby how I can preach a sermon on Sunday and that many of the people will hear something different than what I intend and will even hear it differently than others present.  What was even more interesting to me is that postmodernism says much the same thing, but Colby wasn’t expressing that as a philosophical perspective.  He was expressing it as an observable reality.  It’s just what really does happen.

As one who has been preaching for 26 years I can confirm that it really does happen.  There is a lot that goes into those differences: upbringing, worldview, values, culture, education, life circumstances and much more.  In that context effective communication can be challenging.  Screaming "OBJECTIVE TRUTH" at the tops of our lungs won’t solve the problem, either.  Communication is a matter of both speaking and listening/hearing.

Christians in other parts of the world often hear the Biblical stories differently than those of us in America.  The text doesn’t change, but what gets emphasized often does.  The gospel of Creflo Dollar won’t preach in Chad.  At least not with any long-term credibility (long term, in this case, being about an hour).  Christians in Chad would hardly even think to preach such a message.  Hundreds of ministries across America would.  And for the same reason a gospel of liberation sounds Marxist and repulsive here in America, but sounds like just what the doctor ordered in repressive regimes in places of abject poverty in South America.

All of this makes me wonder what the church in America might have to learn from our brothers and sisters in Christ in other parts of the world.  Can we hear them?  Would we listen if we could?

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