I have not had much work lately. This is good news for you and partial good news for me, as it has given me reading and pondering time. Therefore, there is an exciting lineup of topics in this entry.
(Possible good news for me: there is a chance that I will be getting a job teaching ESL come January.)
I would suggest reading all articles this week, but not all in one sitting. (I say weekly because I will try to post weekly... on either a Friday, Saturday or Sunday every week).
I apologize for the length. I know that some are busy and some are lazy.
In This Issue:
1) Comments And Thoughts on Hauerwas' Sermon On The Badness Of The Reformation
2) A Glimpse At The City Of God
3) D.A Carson: "Open Theology" Blown Wide Open
4) J. Wesley on Religious Nuts and Libertines
1) Comments And Thoughts on Hauerwas' Sermon On The Badness Of The Reformation
In my last blog entry I drew attention to Stanley Hauerwas' Reformation Sunday (29 Oct, 1995) sermon on the why the Reformation was not so positive. In the sermon, Hauerwas, who is an Protestant, was critical of the Reformation and argued that the effects were more negative than positive. Actually, I'm not even sure if Hauerwas made one positive remark about the Reformation. This does not matter very much to me.
After reading Hauerwas' sermon, a friend of mine drew attention to the fact that Hauerwas was far too critical of the Reformation, because there have been very many good effects (such as the reformation of the Catholic Church, Christianity becoming more enlivened; all in all, a less corrupt Christian society).
I took a stance in between, agreeing with my friend that the Reformation has been very beneficial in many regards, but that we should be critical of it (especially as Protestants, who naturally want to view it in a positive light).
However, it must be asked: would the benefits of the Reformation been achieved without the Reformation, a little more patience, etc.? It must also be asked whether or not the long term results of the Reformation have been that good. My current position is realistic, in that we cannot turn back the clock. But I am also more critical than my previous fence-sitting position.
For instance, consider this important quote from Charles Taylor's monumental book about how the modern secular society came to be, A Secular Age: "True, it [the Reformation] reacts to another period of shocking laxity and corruption in high ecclesiastical places, but the Catholic Church it rejected had itself been the locus of reform efforts for several centuries..." (P. 243ff)
An important point that I take from this both is and is not Taylor's point. From this quote it is shown that, in the history of the Church, that reformation and renewal has always been important. From monks to confronting heresy and more, the Church has always been seeking godliness through types of reform. For the most part, though, these had happened inside the church walls. To be more blunt: If one of the driving forces within the Church is repentance, by which a person seeks unity within themselves (i.e. purity, holiness, etc.), then wasn't a less violent, lowercase 'r', reformation worth hoping for and being patient for? However, I concede that there are times when repentance must, in a way, cause violence within ourselves, which is obvious in the case of a drug addict bravely resisting powerful cravings.
As we know, much blood was spilled over the Reformation, many hard lines were drawn, great, though dwindling unity became discord (what did St. Paul have to say about this, as he feels unity to be so important), and divisions over leaders were made (again, what does St. Paul think about this; see 1 Corinthians 3). Would bearing with one another (Colossians 3:13) have been both more godly and more prudent? "For it is God's will that by doing right you should silence the ignorance of the foolish. As servants of God, live as free people, yet do not use your freedom as a pretext for evil" (1 Peter 2:15,16). But perhaps the Reformation was a just and prudent, and therefore godly undertaking.
Also, I think that it can be argued that the Reformation was a type of revolution (and those living at the time must have thought of it as both a political revolution and a religious renewal, considering how religion was such an important part of the polis), a protestation against the governing authorities. Like many revolutions, the Reformation saw its goal as divine and just. Through this Reformation both church and state might be reformed!, the Reformers thought. But I would argue that it was the Devil who took hold of this thought; it was the Devil who twisted noble goals into ignoble goals in the heart of man, the results being shown much later. The result was that, ever so gradually, these people (all sides, since religion and nation were affiliated in the minds of all involved) combined religious goals with civic goals. This, in turn, brought people to think of their kingdoms and nations as sort of kingdoms of God on earth.
Whether this account is fully accurate or not, I think that it is true in outline. And this combining of the kingdom(s) of man with the Kingdom of God was further twisted by the Devil so that "this immense effort [of reforming the lives of citizens so that all might be godly, as is the goal of the church] seems itself to have obscured the essentials of the faith, and to have led to a substitution of something secondary for the primary goal of centring everything on God" (Charles Taylor, A Secular Age, p.244). Therefore, man's goals (including those of many Christians) become man-centered (anthropocentric), not God-centered (theocentric).
Perhaps thinking about the Reformation is a waste of time. It is not. It is true that we cannot turn back the clock (even if we want to), but we can learn for the future. One thing I have learned is this: Christians (and everyone really, even communist Atheists) must not look for the City of God to come to earth before Christ's return. To confuse the City of Man for the City of God is one of the biggest mistakes that can be made. To consider any man other than Jesus to be the Messiah, the Saviour (capital initial letters) is a tremendous problem, even when it results from good intentions. The Devil can dress up as an angel of light and incite men - who are ever so willing, and even if we are not, we are often dull enough to follow his plans - to build up the Tower of Babel once again.
I believe that many current problems and possibly many future ones can be explained by something like what is found in the remainder of this paragraph if we do not act on lessons learned: The City of Man, taught by the Devil, was inspired by the City of God to reach for a perfection which it cannot have. It is the problem of Babel all over again. In hoping that heaven could be accomplished on earth ( the wish of those who originally and even today want to build the Tower of Babel), men built a city based on their own abilities, which took divine agape, which is the property and great virtue of the City of God, and replaced it with philadelphia (which is also a godly virtue, if it is rightly ordered). But the love of man can only be understood rightly if there is some kind of love for God. As Aquinas points to, Seeing light is to loving God is as seeing colour is to loving man. It is only through seeing light that colour is illuminated (See the Summa Theologica II, II, Q.25, Art 1, IAT). Because it is no longer found in its proper order, love of man, or philadelphia, will also become a deformed, twisted sort of love. And philadelphia turns into self-love, emotivism and the rule of the will. Thus, God has scattered the people who have made Babel, and each speaks his own language; each has his own separate will and wants it alone to be done. However, men, from the after effects of true philadelphia, wanted to make a good society based on fairness. The truth is though, that most men know that they have weak wills and not enough power to get what they want, so they created societies based on rules and contracts so that the greatest amount of people could get the most of what they wanted. But there are and will be men with the power and the will get what they want. This is Nietzsche's Ubermensch,, the Superman, the strong-willed and powerful one who will take over the world. This is an antichrist. Will the righteous allow this continual twisting of what is good?
These troubling thoughts are almost too much for an article that began with considering the good of the Reformation, but they are not too much. However, I admit that this article has been presumptuous and too far-sweeping or all-engrossing, for which I apologize. I also apologize for what might seem to be a melodramatic end. I have sought to bring you on a journey of the mind that I have been on for a while and I have given you the cheep and fast tour.
2) A Glimpse At The City Of God
Continuing on my theme of the City of God and the City of Man, I want to meditate on a quote from Augustine's The City Of God Against The Pagans (otherwise known simply as The City Of God) Book V, Chapter 16. Read it slowly if you have the time. Here is the quote with my commentary (in blue):
[Augustine is trying to explain to his audience that the reason the Vandals (these were barbarians to the Romans) are able to attack Rome and give it so much trouble is not because they have started worshiping the Christian God and have largely turned from the Roman gods. In the process, he has to explain why God, in His providence, made Rome so glorious, even before it was officially a Christian republic/kingdom. He has just made the point that those virtuous Romans of the past sought only human glory, and that they have, in the words of Jesus, "received their reward in full" (Matt 6.2).]
Very different is the reward of the saints [which is not so small, nor as readily tangible and is not received on earth]. Here below they endure obloquy [reproach] for the City of God, which is hateful to the lovers of this world [the City of God itself and the idea of enduring reproach for something not tangible are both hated by the lovers of this world]. That City is eternal [and is therefore not to be found fully in time]; no one is born there, because no one dies. There is the true felicity, which is no goddess [Felicity was the name of one of the many Roman goddesses], but the gift of God [felicity is the gift of God, it is not to be got through honour from men, nor is it to be found by an earthly city. It is bestowed on us by God, we do not earn it]. From there we have received the pledge of faith, in that we sigh for her beauty while on our pilgrimage [the pledge of faith is the Holy Spirit that gives us a longing for the life that will be with God after death and also makes sense of our groaning for the life to come. We are pilgrims, sojourners, viators. This means that Christians are a people "on the way". We know we have not reached the final happiness, our final destination, but it is certainly real to us, and tangible in many ways. Our final joy is not in an earthly kingdom, but with God in eternal life, in the City of God. Christians must be patient on this journey, knowing that good and evil will often be mixed together during this life. Therefore, Christians must cultivate the godly virtues of faith, hope, patience, gentleness, and love]. In that City the sun does not rise 'on the good and on the evil' (Matt. 5:45) [Augustine had earlier made reference to this quote from Jesus. The point was that God has chosen a wise way of rewarding and punishing people during this life. I really recommend reading City of God, Book I, Chapter 8 for a good teaching on this, which helps us to understand why God allows evil to sometimes flourish during this life, while we have to wait for complete felicity in the life to come]; the 'sun of righteousness' (Mal, 4.2) spreads its light only on the good; there the public treasury needs no great efforts for its enrichment at the cost of private property [Having made earlier reference to giving life through birth, Augustine now makes reference to another resource that human cities need: taxes. Augustine highlights life and taxes as deficiencies in the state that need to be supplied, whereas St. Paul draws his readers attention to how the earthly city needs control over the lives and taxes of its citizens (see Romans 13:4-7) to maintain order]; for there the common stock is the treasury of truth [Happiness, truth, no taxes, and no death sounds nice to me. The goods of the City of God are held in common, which cannot be done on earth].
But more than this [that is, the Roman Empire was destined by God to be glorious in its pre-Christian days (and this lesson can be applied universally) not just so that the men would "receive their reward in full" for their human virtues of courage and valour, but there is a further purpose]; the Roman Empire was not extended and did not attain to glory in men's eyes simply for this, that men of this stamp should be accorded this kind of renewal. It had this further purpose, that the citizens of that Eternal City, in the days of their pilgrimage, should fix their eyes steadily and soberly on those examples and observe what love they should have towards the City on high, in view of life eternal, if the earthly city had received such devotion from her citizens, in their hope of glory in the sight of men [the further purpose was to incite Christians to be jealous of the love and virtues that the pre-Christian Romans had for Rome, so that they might be moved toward love of and virtue toward the City of God].
3) D.A Carson: "Open Theology" Blown Wide Open
Whether you know what "Open Theology" is or not, this seminar talk given by D.A. Carson is fantastic and illuminating. You can find the audio file here under Don Carson-Openness of God Theology.mp3. It is worth listening to all the way through.
"Open theology" is a theological position that attempts to solve the problems of there being evil in the world and the problem of predestination. (see Augustine's City of God Book I, Chapter 8 for some of Augustine's thoughts on the mixing of good and evil in the world and Book V, Chapters 9-11 for a decent discussion of God's providence and human will.) It does this by saying that God has chosen to limit himself by making it so that he cannot know exactly what is going to happen ahead of time. Sure, he can guess, and is a good guesser who is prudent and wise, but he doesn't really "know" the future. It is an interesting theological position that ends up with worse problems than double-predestination (the idea that God predestines people both to heaven and to hell).
I agree with Carson on many points, but I don't think on all.
4) J. Wesley on Religious Nuts and Libertines
I picked up John Wesley's A Plain Account of Christian Perfection about a year ago and I have been reading it on and off. It can serve as a good devotional book. In the book Wesley makes a good, intellectual, well-explained, case for what he means by "Christian perfection" and why it is possible to attain to. It reminds me of Andrew Murray's Absolute Surrender in some respects.
Nearing the end of the book, I was pleasantly surprised to find two sections that really struck my fancy. The first section is on what Wesley calls "enthusiasm", but what I have might call "Christian superstition" or "religious nuttery". The second section that I found interesting is directly after the first and has to do with religious libertines, or "antinomians", which are Christians who believe that the law does not apply to them, that they need not pray, nor read the Bible often. In simple English, an antinomian is anti=against, nomos=law. These sections really struck my fancy because I have fallen into ways of thinking similar to these before.
(To find the sections I am talking about, go to an online version, left click on Edit, at the top of your browser, left click on Find in This Page, and type in (without quotation marks) "what is the Second advice". The section on "enthusiasm" is under Q. 33 and the section on "antinomians" is under Q. 34)
There is much that I could draw attention to in from Wesley's discussions on enthusiasm and Antinomianism, but I am of little energy right now. Read them for yourself. Despite my reluctance, I do want to point out that, though many moderns/postmoderns might think that enthusiasm is for extreme (maybe right-wing) Christians and antinomian thinking is for nominal (liberal) Christians, they both spring from a presumption. Presumption makes you think that you have something (have achieved a goal) without having done the work for it (achieving the end without the means).
For enthusiasts, this means that the have an imagination to think that God is specifically talking to them, often through signs, dreams, visions, etc. These people are often thinking that they can read the inner sins of another and they let the other person know. Now, I know people who have been like this, both truly godly and not. Sometimes it is genuine. Wesley tells these people to "test the spirits".
For antinomians, presumption comes in the form of ideas like this: "I don't need to have specific times to pray each day, for I am praying without ceasing;" "every moment is a holy moment, so I need not go to church;" and, "why read the Bible consistently when the Spirit is informing me of his will every moment." This is presumption because the spiritual life is a journey, where we are growing in holiness, though Christ has already imputed it upon us. Antinomianism involves presuming that you are at a spiritual stage in your life that you are not at.
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5 comments:
Good stuff. I would cheerfully challenge you here:
"This is presumption because the spiritual life is a journey, where we are growing in holiness, though Christ has already imputed it upon us. Antinomianism involves presuming that you are at a spiritual stage in your life that you are not at. "
Isn't antinomianism merely the rational outworking of a theology of imputed grace? It seems you recognize some tension/awkwardness there ("though Christ..."). Since I haven't read Wesley too closely on this, could you comment perhaps on his understanding, if he has any, of the distinction between imputed and infused grace?? Thanks.
Peace,
Shawn
Shawn, first, tell me what the difference is between infused faith and infused faith. Second, you might be able to figure out what Wesley thinks if you read part of what I had suggested. I will quote it at length: "Once more, beware of Solifidianism; crying nothing but, `Believe, believe!' and condemning those as ignorant or legal who speak in a more scriptural way. At certain seasons, indeed, it may be right to treat of nothing but repentance, or merely of faith, or altogether of holiness; but, in general, our call is to declare the whole `counsel of God, and to prophesy according to the analogy of faith. The written word treats of the whole and every particular branch of righteousness, descending to its minutest branches; as to be sober, courteous, diligent, patient, to honour all men. So, likewise, the Holy Spirit works the same in our hearts, not merely creating desires after holiness in general, but strongly inclining us to every particular grace, leading us to every individual part of `whatsoever is lovely.' And this with the greatest propriety: For as `by works faith is made perfect; so the completing or destroying the work of faith, and enjoying the favour, or suffering the displeasure, of God, greatly depends on every single act of obedience or disobedience."
Third, even if this helps, help me out with #1.
Well here goes... It figures prominently into Protestant/Catholic apologetics, which is where I first encountered it exposed. Though since I actually took Mealey classes with you, I know we've seen it--concealed as a component somewhere in the theological paradigm of Theosis. (P.S. I hate the word paradigm but I used it anyway)
The distinction is not exactly that easy to nail down, for it's scope relates broadly to soteriology as a whole. However, it essentially relates to the delivery or reality of Christ's work. They are the theological vocabulary which best organize the two competing claims for what it means to by sanctified/justified by Christ.
Imputed Grace: The conviction of the Reformers, with (in my humble opinion) little precedent in Church tradition prior. A legal metaphor, which claims that, wIthin a forensic setting (law-court) we are credited as righteous-- solely through the merit of Christ. We don't possess it, it doesn't inhere in us. As Luther famously wrote, we are truly piles of dung--only dressed in the white robes of Christ. Justification is a declaration about who we are. A pronouncement about our legal status--guilty or not guilty. Bizarrely, because of Christ, this pronouncement is contrary to what we actually are. Sound familiar?
Infused Grace: Operates within the more traditional theosis or divinization model of Christian life. If imputed grace rests heavily on St. Paul's exegesis of Abraham in Romans 3 (?), then infused grace looks to St. Peter's "become partakers of the divine nature" and the Sermon on the Mount "therefore, be holy as your heavenly father is holy." Infused grace point towards inward transformation of spirit through our union to Christ as the principle of salvation.
Thus, whereas, imputed grace draws a firm line between sanctification and justification, infused grace cannot. To be justified, ultimately means, to be a citizen of heaven. To be a Saint, one must be fully holy. For God can endure no unclean thing. When we are justified, we aren't just declared righteous but are that very thing. Because through baptism, the eucharist (sacramental life in general), and faith working through love we are changed. The final consequence of infused grace, then, is the rejection of sola fide. Also it implicitly endorses Purgatory.
Of course, you've read enough Augustine to know that there is only one substance, one principle of life and holiness. So, infusion always looks to the Source of all grace. We cannot be justified apart from God, because God is our justification. But, nevertheless, in the final analysis, we will be not merely credited as holy, but are that very thing.
Did this help at all?? Let me know!
Shawn, I do not believe that antinomianism is the necessary result of believing in "imputed grace", if imputed grace is understood in the right way, in a larger reality.
If imputed grace is understood as "solifidianism", as Wesley refers to it in one of these passages, which is the belief that, once faith has been received/given, that the person does not an longer have to do or worry or think anythng to be accepted by God. That, of course, results in antinomianism.
I'm not exactly sure what Wesley's ideas were on this, but I know that he rejects this idea, because love moves us to actually do things. Love is key for J. Wesley.
Also, it was my word choice, not Wesley's, to say "imputed." I simply meant "imputed" to mean that Christ has given us holiness in a seed, so if we continue to water it and grow it (which is only done in Him anyways), then it will grow. If you read this line in context of my article, then I think this can be understood. In the sentence where I used the word "imputed" I talk about the spiritual life as a journey. Imputed can be taken to mean "the journey is over, or non existent, I have arrived." This is presumption. Imputed, for the more mature, should mean, "this is the beginning of the journey, which has been given a headstart of sorts by Christ, but it must also continue in Christ as we work together." Or something like this.
Shawn, while perusing the internet, I found this article: http://www.firstthings.com/article/2007/01/purgatory-for-everyone-49
where a Wesleyan says: "In agreement with the Great Tradition
of Christian teaching, Wesleyans reject the notion that salvation is only, or even primarily, a forensic matter of having the righteousness of Christ imputed or attributed to believers. Wesleyans insist that God not only forgives us but also changes us and actually makes us righteous. Only when we are entirely sanctified or fully perfected in this sense are we truly fit to enjoy the beatific vision in heaven."
Also in the article: "An important variation on this theme appears in the theology of John Wesley,
the founder of Methodism. Unlike most Protestant theologians, Wesley believed
that complete sanctification is possible in this life. In his model of the order
of salvation, such sanctification can be received in a moment of faith analogous
to the way justification is accepted by faith. Wesley also stressed the progressive
dimension of sanctification and thought that entire sanctification could not
normally be received without years of gradual growth and progress in grace and
holiness. But what is significant for our purposes is that Wesley believed that,
in most cases, complete sanctification takes place at 'the instant of death,
the moment before the soul leaves the body.'"
The article is a good one, fairly informative...you should just read the whole article. The author is Wesleyan, and so comments largely from that stance.
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