...to John Calvin, who was born 500 years ago today!

There are TONS of blogs, websites, and other resources that are devoting huge amounts of attention to Calvin’s 500th birthday. There is even a celebration trip/tour going on right now in Geneva, where most of the Reformed preachers I’ve ever heard of are teaching, preaching, and reflecting on Calvin’s life, ministry, and contribution to theology.* I’m not going to try to pretend that I have anything to contribute to the mystique or biographical evaluation or anything else regarding John Calvin.

Instead, I want to offer three basic reflections about why I admire John Calvin and am thankful for him:

1. A lot of people think of Calvin primarily as a leader of the Protestant Reformation (which he was), a theologian (which he was), or a Bible scholar (which he also was). But thinking of Calvin only in one (or even all three) of these ways is an inappropriate limitation of who Calvin was. He was all of these, but they were actually the fruit of something more that he was: a Pastor.
2. Calvin the Pastor was a fairly amazing man. He preached frequently, at times almost daily, and sometimes multiple times a day, and regarded preaching as not merely the delivery of a message but a “pastoral event.” In addition, he also was active with pastoral visitation of his flock, devoting individual attention to their faith and sanctification. Beyond that, Calvin was a teacher, working with education at all levels (including the seminary level, where he taught John Knox, the founder of Scottish Presbyterianism-- thus our close roots with Calvin), and a social reformer, working to bring about civic and economic reform as the result of a theologically Reformed worldview. He wrote profusely, penning commentary on the entire Bible, works of catechetical instruction, much theology, and his most well-known work, The Institutes of the Christian Religion. All of this he accomplished while nurturing his marriage to his wife Idelette, and the children of her first marriage (she was a widow at 31 when he married her). Incidentally, both John and Idelette Calvin were frail in health, which presented a difficulty that he seldom allowed to interfere with his pastoral work. Calvin was the very model of a Reformed Pastor.
3. Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion is often looked on as a daunting and unapproachable work of theology. In many ways, it is-- with the translations of the final version (Calvin re-wrote it several times throughout his ministry, with the first edition being only 20% of the final version) hitting 1800 pages, it does not make for a short read; and as content goes, it is probably a notch or two higher than most Christians are accustomed to. However, Calvin’s goal was not to write a difficult seminary textbook; on the contrary, the goal for the Institutes was to offer the common Christian a guide to thinking and living according to their faith, and it is still quite useful for that purpose. (Let it be said that some of the difficulty in reading comes in the fact that there are no recent translations, and an up-to-date translation would inevitably result in a more approachable book.)

If you are interested in a good biography that will introduce you to all of the aspects of John Calvin’s life, you might try Robert Godfrey’s John Calvin: Pilgrim and Pastor.

Happy birthday, Pastor Calvin-- your ministry continues to bless Christ’s church today, and I join thousands-- if not millions-- of others in giving thanks and praise to God for your work. I look forward to our fellowship in the new Jerusalem together!

*Check out Reformation 21’s ongoing reports of the Calvin 500 conference/trip. Also, the guys at Reformation 21 have been “blogging” through Calvin’s Institutes all year, and it has made for interesting reading (no, I haven’t read the whole blog).

Tags: History, theology, Pastoral ministry, Systematic Theology

“You cannot be full of self and be full of Christ at the same time.”

~Paul Kooistra, in his sermon to the 37^th General Assembly of the PCA

Tags: Faith & Life, theology

Not long ago, I was talking with an acquaintance about the liturgy at Hickory Withe Presbyterian Church. I specifically mentioned that we were beginning to make use of the liturgical calendar more intentionally. He wrinkled his nose, furrowed his brow, and replied, “I don’t know... that’s sort of like the Roman Catholic and orthodox churches.”

I said, “Sort of.”

He responded, “But aren’t you a Presbyterian church?”

Even though we talked about it for a few more minutes, I could tell the conversation was over at this point.

This fellow, and many like him, approach such matters from the same perspective: they are inherently suspicious of anyone-- or anything-- that is different from what they understand and practice. In this case, his experiences and personal practices had suggested to him that all Presbyterians had plain, unadorned, even stoic worship that varied not by season nor circumstance. Therefore, he concluded, any church that diverged from this path, even though they may be Presbyterian, was not practicing proper Presbyterian worship. They-- and in this case, we-- must be in error.

Why must this be the case? Is it so that the Roman Catholics or Eastern Orthodox are utterly wrong? Could it be possible that they might teach and/or practice some things with which we might disagree, but not all things? Couldn’t the same thing be true of other Christian traditions?

When faced with questions such as these, I’ve found that “Suspicion because of difference” will grant my premises. Yet, when it comes to actually practicing this, they have no interest, and in fact they are sometimes fearful.

This is natural, I think: we are all fearful of what we don’t know and understand. Most of us are insecure enough to interpret differences as a conscious and active condemnation of our point of view, rather than simply a thoughtful and purposeful acceptance of another point of view. And we are prideful enough to look on something that is different from what we do, think, or feel as wrong by default.

But we must be careful when our default position is to be suspicious of something simply because it is different. Look at it this way: most, if not all, of how you spend your time today, what you think about, and the beliefs that you hold, are inherently different from what you did, thought, or believed a decade or two ago. In many of us, the differences are drastic-- and we are grateful that they are! In fact, if someone cannot honestly say that this is at least somewhat true of them-- that they are a good bit different today than 10 years ago-- then they either aren’t being honest with themselves or they haven’t demonstrated any personal growth over that time.

If I, 10 years ago, had met the “me” from today, would I even recognize myself? Would I be suspicious of the differences I saw in this other person? If that is true of me-- and you-- then shouldn’t we give those who are different from us some benefit of the doubt?

What are we looking for when we demand conformity to our own images in this way? Are we simply looking for affirmation? Are we attending to some deep insecurities that cause us to second-guess ourselves, and therefore others as well?

Or are we asking for some shibboleth that Scripture itself doesn’t require? Tim Keller once said, “No matter where you are, there is someone to your right, as it were, who thinks you sold out the Gospel.” Is this what we’re getting at when we get so suspicious so quickly?

Two nights ago I had a conversation with someone who noted that, in visiting a different Presbyterian church, he had observed a surprising number of things that harkened back to Anglican, Eastern Orthodox, and Roman Catholic practices. He was surprised.

“Why?” I asked him. “I think John Calvin and Martin Luther would have wanted it that way.”

“Do you really think so?” He asked.

“Yes-- after all, Luther and Calvin didn’t want to not be Roman Catholic-- they simply wanted the Roman Catholic church to be biblically faithful.”

But we forget that. And we forget that our differences-- whether they be about worship practices, liturgical calendars, theologies of baptism, or how actively we must pursue a certain social agenda-- ought not be something that we are inherently suspicious of.

One of my favorite TV shows was (and is!) The West Wing. In one episode, a group of Chinese refugees were trying to flee religious persecution in their homeland, and President Bartlett (played by Martin Sheen) was seeking affirmation that they were legitimately Christians and not just being coached. Meanwhile, China is demanding that the refugees be returned.

Instructive. After all, this is the sum of it, and any further shibboleth that I construct is wrong. Let’s be a bit less suspicious.^*


*Don’t get me wrong here: I’m not suggesting that it is wrong to have theological standards for, say, ordination-- but simply that when I don’t “get” the way another Christian practices their faith, I must be careful not to assume that their faith therefore isn’t real.

Tags: Faith & Life, love, Liturgy, community, Church Universal

How well do you know your Bible?

It’s always difficult to measure, and no measure is completely fair or accurate. Still, the folks at Christianity Today put together this Bible knowledge test (based on the book What Every Christian Should Know by Jo. H. Lewis and Gordon A. Palmer). A few sample questions (I won’t reproduce the whole thing out of respect for copyright):

Common Bible Sayings

1. Am I my brother's _____?
2. Daniel in the _____ den
3. Do unto _____ as you would have them do unto you.

In the Bible

1. Name the first four books of the New Testament.
2. In what book of the Bible is the Christmas story found, the version familiar to most people?
3. What is another well-known name for "the Evil One"?

More Common Bible Sayings

1. Death, where is thy _____?
2. Don't hide your _____ under a bushel.
3. Gold, frankincense, and ______.
4. I am come that they might have _____ and that they might have it more abundantly.

Sayings that May Surprise You

1. A good name is better than _____.
2. Giving honor unto the _____, as unto the weaker vessel
3. Four _____of the Apocalypse

There’s a lot more, plus an answer key. Take the test-- and report your scores in the comments, if you will! (No judgement here; I’m just curious...)

Tags: Bible, reading

I agree with 99% of what Michael says here about “what [he] means by Post-Evangelical.”

I find much of the baggage of evangelicalism stifling to my faith, my ministry, and the life of the church. I appreciate his gentle critique, and find it helpful to have some new categories to think in.

What do you think of it? Could you consider yourself a “Post-Evangelical” according to these criteria?

Tags: Faith & Life, Pastoral ministry, Church Universal, community

Happy Reformation Day! (And happy Hallowe’en, as well.)

There’s a lot of good stuff around commemorating today. Here’s quick round-up.

My friend Paul has a good summary of why Reformation Day is significant.

My friend James does too. (Also, check out his introduction to a good Reformation hymn.)

GA Junkie offers a different perspective on Reformation Day, also interesting.

Ligonier Ministries is giving away a nice Reformation Day gift: a “free” Reformation Study Bible with any donation.

Ed Stetzer offers an interesting perspective on haunted houses and “hell houses”.

Along the same subject, Internet Monk asks: where does the Bible say that Satan wants people to go to Hell?

You want to know what scares me? This (video below)-- which combines both Reformation Day and the scarier parts of Hallowe’en: the false gospel that is the prosperity gospel.

Tags: Faith & Life, History, reading, Links

Here’s a good video of Harry Reeder, a great pastor and leader in the PCA and a man I have learned a lot from over the years. He’s answering the question: “what does it mean to think theologically?”

Tags: theology, Faith & Life

I read the following comment recently on a website discussing the report that the 2008 General Assembly voted NOT to form a study committee on deaconesses and women in diaconal service, which the Philadelphia Presbytery (and others) had overtured the assembly to do:

I ponder the intention of the Philidelphia Presbytery in bringing this to the GA. Is it women seeking power over men, as was part of the Genesis curse, or is it men cowering from their mandate to lead the church?

Friends, you have before you a classic example of the logical fallacy known as the “Either/Or Fallacy,” the “False Dichotomy Fallacy,” the “False Dilemma Fallacy,” or “Bifurcation.”

In essence, this fallacy asserts that there are only two options to choose from, possible directions to move in, or answers to a question-- AND that both of them have been represented in the argument.

[An aside: the meaning of the prefix “di” is that there are two-- if there are more than two, that would change the prefix. For example, C.S. Lewis famously described a “trilemma” when he talked about the fact that Jesus was either a liar, a crazy person, or who He said He was.]

Now, it’s possible for there to be TRUE dichotomies, dilemmas, and either/or situations. We often face these-- this is one of the reasons why this fallacy so often appears acceptable. But when there is more than two options, it is fallacious to suggest that there are only two. (Thus, such a dichotomy is false.)

Very often, the false dichotomies or fallacious either/ors will be one (or more) of a few types:

• An over-simplification of a situation, attempting to categorize all of the options or choices into just two (or maybe three) ideas
• A misunderstanding of the full range of the problem, which leads to falling short of understanding the solutions or answers.
• A misunderstanding of the full range of the answers or solutions, often because of innocent ignorance or insufficient familiarity with the issues at hand.
• The result of a substantial bias which blinds the arguer from understanding the problem or issue, the answers or solutions, or both. (See the above example.)

Clearly, all of these can contain some innocence in the situation-- in other words, false dichotomies are not always willful attempts to deceive (though they sometimes are). What it all boils down to is this question: is there an option present that is not contained in the argument?

So, here are some ways to prevent false dichotomies in your own arguments. Ask yourself:

• Do I have a full understanding of the problem or issue I’m discussing? Self-awareness of the limit of your knowledge-- whether due to a lack of study, a lack of experience, or the presence of bias-- is the best place to start.
• Have I been fair to the issue at hand? Would an “opponent” in this argument agree that I have dealt with all of the options clearly and fairly?
• Do I have a full understanding of the options, answers, or solutions to the matter at hand? Like the first question, this gets to the issue of limit of knowledge. This can be a more difficult question to answer, and might require consulting another person to verify your answer.
• Have I attempted to categorize or group ideas that don’t fit well together? Have I forced one or more options into subordination under another for the sake of my argument?

And here are some responses to the presence of false dichotomies in other peoples’ arguments:

• Identify what other options are truly present. If you recognize options that aren’t presented, note them to yourself.
• If possible, draw connections between the missing options and the reason(s) for them. Likely, it will be one of the four types or reasons given above.
• Present both ideas at the same time. It’s best to do this in a question. For example, someone might say to the person who wrote the false dichotomy about the Philadelphia Presbytery: “You clearly stand on one side of this argument. Is it possible that your determined position has prevented you from seeing other options? It seems to me that the Presbytery might have had other issues that brought the discussion about, such as...”

Tags: theology, logic, community, love, Language, Faith & Life

This quote was mentioned to me recently, and it brought to mind some important ideas regarding logic-- thus, a continuation of my Logic for Theological Discussion series:

From a profile on CNN anchor Campbell Brown:...when you have Candidate A saying the sky is blue, and Candidate B saying it’s a cloudy day, I look outside and I see, well, it’s a cloudy day. I should be able to tell my viewers, ‘Candidate A is wrong, Candidate B is right.’ And not have to say, ‘Well, you decide.’ Then it would be like I’m an idiot. And I’d be treating the audience like idiots.

The difficulty is that there are different sorts of sentences that a candidate (or anyone else), and the media wants to categorize all of them into the same group when they aren't.

It is possible for a sentence to not be a "statement" or a truth claim. In logic, the term "statement" denotes a sentence that can be said to be true or false. Questions, exclamations, and declarations of opinion are not considered to be statements.

A real statement also can be subcategorized, into what we would call "supported" and "unsupported" statements. Those that need further verification in order to determine their truth value are considered supported, while those that are self-evident are unsupported.

Some sentences appear to be supported statements but are actually matters of opinion. For example, "it is cool in here" is only supported if the temperature is low-- let's say, close to freezing, or below 50 degrees. If it is 65 degrees, I might consider it comfortable while someone else may think it cool-- but it is then a matter of opinion. Meanwhile, some sentences are supported regardless of someone’s preference. For example, “That closet is dark when the light is off” is something that can be verified to be true, and no amount of opinion or preference for darkness will change that.

Furthermore, the difficulty with supported statements is that they are often made with reliance on evidence that itself is often questionable. So, if an expert in the field of economics, say, wages an opinion about the status of our financial crisis, his declaration may be quite credible (since he is an expert) but is nevertheless a matter of opinion. Someone else may offer a true statement about the matter, relying on the word of that expert as the supporting evidence for their statement. But this supported statement is based on expert opinion, which can be scrutinized, challenged, or counter-argued by other experts.

And here's the kicker: by far, most of the statements made by political candidates are either supported statements or declarations of opinions. So, for Campbell Brown (or any other journalist) to complain about whether they are allowed to report on them is spurious. NO journalist can adequately report these things with anything other than verbatim quotes, without becoming something of a wonk. It would simply take too much fact-checking and explanation to accomplish it in a journalistic way that is also reliable.

How does this apply to theology? Because we often do the same thing with theological matters. It is essential to see what claims are unsupported statements, which are supported statements, and which are not statements at all but simply matters of opinion.

Consider the following:

• Everyone understands that there is right and wrong. (Unsupported statement)
• When Paul refers to the body as the temple of the Holy Spirit, he means the body of Christ. (Supported statement)
• The writers of the Westminster Confession would not have seen playing catch on a Sunday as permissible. (Opinion)

All of these are claims that might occur in a given theological discussion. Yet, they must not be treated with the same weight of authority, because they cannot all be taken in the same manner. An unsupported theological statement may be assumed in a way that the supported ones may not. My opinion may be correct, but you must come to that conclusion because of reasons that persuade you of it, not simply because I have said it.

How might we deal with different types of claims and sentences in theological (and other) discussions?

• Determine which type of sentence(s) you’re being offered-- or, that you’re offering. This alone can be all the difference in recognizing how acutely you need to deal with the truth claims involved.
• If the claim is an unsupported statement, is it true? This may seem like a simple question at first, but it isn’t. Does everyone really understand that there is right and wrong? Is darkness really dark? At least at a philosophical level, many such truth claims cannot be taken for granted these days. (Perhaps another time we’ll discuss how to address assertions of relative truth.)
• If the claim is a supported statement, ask yourself, “What evidence and supporting information would be needed to demonstrate the truth of this claim?” Then find out if that evidence and/or information is available. If the claim is yours, can you demonstrate its truth with support? If the claim is someone else’s, ask them key questions that would reveal how well-supported the claim is. In other words, make sure that enough is disclosed to verify the claim being made.
• If the claim is a statement of opinion, be constantly aware of this. Upon what is that opinion based? How much of an “expert” is the person waging the opinion? How vital is the reliability of this opinion in the overall argument? We place far too much weight on opinion when there is no merit for it; don’t allow this to become the deciding factor for you too easily.
• Keep this in mind: if you’re dealing with the opinion of someone else, you’re probably not going to change their mind in a single conversation (or maybe ever). Especially if they have arrived at an opinion through some significant consideration, they will remain unmoved for some time. There’s nothing wrong with this-- but you don’t have to share their opinion. By and large, conversations and discussions that boil down to one person’s opinion vs. another’s-- with little evidence or reason involved otherwise-- only bruise relationships. If you want to change their mind, ask if you can discuss the things that led to their opinion, and be willing to do this in small, incremental units.

Tags: theology, logic, love, community, Faith & Life, Language, Politics

Another core idea in Logic-- in general, as well as in logic for theological discussion-- is Consistency.

The fundamental definition of consistency is this: two or more ideas may be true at the same time, in the same context. If two statements can both be said to be true at the same time and in the same context, they are said to be consistent.

All of us are inconsistent. One of my philosophy professors pointed this out in a profound-- and humorous-- manner: “everyone is inconsistent; even a determinist will ask you to pass the salt!”

But our inconsistency matters the most when we attempt discourse and discussion-- particularly when there is disagreement involved. This is because our inconsistencies undermine our more salient points by causing others to question, second-guess, or even outright doubt all of our points.

A couple of recent political events demonstrate inconsistency well. For one, John McCain stood up on Monday, September 15, and declared that our economic system is “fundamentally sound” while addressing the concerns about the Lehman and AIG failures. (He has since backpedaled on that statement, which further underscores the inconsistency.) Meanwhile, Senator Obama (and the rest of the Democrats in congress) have strongly supported a bailout plan approaching $700 billion-- money which will effectively buy off the financial problems of the wealthiest of Americans-- while simultaneously demanding an increase in taxes for the wealthiest Americans. (I guess that is their plan to pay for the bailout.)

Similarly, the entire financial crisis is being blamed largely on the economic policies of President Bush, while President Clinton’s presidency and economic accomplishments have been lauded and praised. But the crisis we are facing now is the fallout of poor policies of a decade ago, just as a significant amount of the economic prosperity of the Clinton presidency was the fruit of the presidencies that preceded him. It turns out that what we do today actually has impact on tomorrow-- go figure.

A good example from the theological discussion world covers the debates of the past decade or so in the PCA. Back in 2002, the debate du jour was over “good-faith subscription” vs. “strict subscription.” A number of guys opposed the idea of good-faith subscription because, some of them said, it would open the door for too many differing positions on various theological issues. Fast-forward to 2006, and the new debate has turned to a theological view called the “Federal Vision” position-- which was, and is, a variation on the historic position on the prominence of individual salvation. Ironically, many of those who came under fire during the Federal Vision debates, and who took cover under the “good-faith subscription” blanket, were some of the same guys who opposed the passage of the good-faith subscription amendment. In short, many of the same men who would end up benefiting the most from the good-faith subscription vote were those who spoke most vehemently against it.

The difficulty about consistency is that it can’t easily be corrected or improved. Unlike bad argument styles, for example, you cannot simply evaluate arguments by asking a set of questions that will reveal the problems of consistency. To recognize inconsistency in your own arguments, you must begin to learn how to see how ideas connect. You must also develop a memory of what you have said and done, and recognize how those things affect the next thing.

Unlike fallacies, however, defeating inconsistencies doesn’t really require strategies or counter-examples. It simply needs to be pointed out. Once you’ve shown someone to be inconsistent, they will often make things worse by disclaiming, excusing, or digging deeper.

Tags: logic, Language, community, theology, love, Faith & Life, Politics

Continuing my Logic for Theological Discussion thread, here are a couple of fallacies that are very common.

I had lunch with a pastor-friend recently, and he told me of a man in his congregation who has begun to doubt. Specifically, these doubts have focused on the man’s belief in a literal Hell-- the man doesn’t believe that there is literally a place that is Hell as the Scriptures describe.

As a consequence of this, the guy thinks he must abandon the rest of his beliefs in biblical truth as well-- in fact, he is beginning to wonder whether this doubt should compel him to abandon his faith altogether. His rationale is that, because he has serious doubts and even disbelief about one teaching of the Bible, he must abandon his belief in all of the teachings of the Bible.

This man is falling into the trap of the Fallacy of Composition. This fallacy follows a basic and common pattern: what is true of the parts that compose a thing must also be true of the whole thing. The tricky part of this fallacy is that the line of thinking is sometimes true-- but we are inclined to believe that it is true all of the time, because it is true some of the time (which is, itself, a Fallacy of Composition).

So, we reason: every blade of grass in my yard is green (true), therefore my lawn is green (also true). If that is true, then it must also be the case that: taking one pill from the bottle of prescription drugs is not poisonous, therefore, taking all of the pills at the same time would also not be poisonous. Or, every atom that makes up my body is invisible to the naked eye, therefore my body must be invisible to the naked eye.

As you can see from these examples, you cannot rely simply on the pattern of thought processes in the argument to determine whether an argument is sound or not. Therefore, this young man’s fallacy goes like this: I doubt one particular teaching of the Bible, therefore I must doubt all of the teachings of the Bible.

A closely related fallacy to Composition is the Fallacy of Division. It is the converse of the Fallacy of Composition, and follows this line of thought: what is true of the whole of a thing is also true of the parts of that thing.

Once again, because it is sometimes true, we often assume it to be always true. But that is not the case. Consider: An airplane can fly through the air for miles and miles; therefore, this hunk of metal I took off of an airplane can fly through the air for miles and miles. Or, I am able to see my desk without help from magnification, so I ought to be able to see the atoms that compose my desk without magnification.

Clearly, as you see, it doesn’t always hold up. Here’s what is interesting: these fallacies are based on the same kinds of conclusions, or inferences, as stereotypes. In other words, based on what we believe to be true of a whole group, we infer an opinion about the members of that group (Division); OR, based on our observations of members of a group, we infer a general principle about that group (Composition). Sometimes these inferences are true and sound, while at other times they are not. This is what makes stereotypes so dangerous.

So we might reason thusly: Everyone I know who has installed Microsoft Vista thinks it is awful; therefore, Vista must be a bomb. (Fallacy of Composition or not? It depends on how you measure it. On the one hand, several hundred million copies of Vista have sold, making it an inherent financial success. On the other hand, as of August, Windows XP -- the six year old predecessor to Vista-- was still outselling Vista, and the numbers of people who have switched to the Apple Mac platform have increased substantially.)

Or this: Presbyterian churches are stuffy and dull; so this Sunday’s worship at Hickory Withe Presbyterian Church will probably be stuffy and dull, too. (Fallacy of Division? I hope not. Although it is true that some Presbyterian churches-- and some other churches, as well-- are stuffy and dull, this may be an unfair stereotype. It also may be an inference made out of ignorance: someone who is uninterested in worshiping God might find ANY church worship service dull, and even stuffy.)

So what do we do about the fallacies of Composition and Division? It all comes down to a simple question:

What is the justification for making that inference?

In other words, why do I feel safe in drawing the conclusion I have? What are the unstated factors in the argument? Is there a point of data-- or more than one-- that connects the part and the whole? If so, does that data hold up as good reason to draw the inference I have?

In the Microsoft example, there are points of data that might support the conclusion, but you still might question whether the starting point is the best one.

With the young man who doubts the Bible, the connecting points that are unstated are likely based on someone teaching the guy that he had to believe the whole Bible to be a Christian. While the Bible is the Word of God, and we cannot know the truth about salvation apart from it, attaching a required belief onto the saving grace of the gospel makes it into works salvation. While I want every believer-- and every unbeliever too-- to hear and receive Scripture as God’s Word, I cannot deny others their doubts. In short, one can be a Christian and not believe that everything written in Scripture is true.

Tags: logic, Language, love, theology, community, Faith & Life

When I was in college, I took a public speaking class (didn’t everyone?), and my last assignment was to present a persuasive speech. The topic had to be approved by the professor, and I wrote a proposal to deliver a speech on the topic, “Why we can trust the Bible.”

My professor denied my topic, because, as he said, in order to speak on that topic I would have to appeal to the authority of the Bible, and he wouldn’t allow that. Imagine my surprise when one of the first speeches given by one of my classmates was on the topic, “The Bible is just a bunch of myths and legends.”

(What made it worse was that the guy basically appealed to the fact that the contents of the Bible has been referred to as, “the greatest story ever told,” and we all know that a story is fiction. Yep, that was the gist of his argument-- persuasive, right? See my forthcoming post on the fallacy of equivocation...)

This is a classic example of what I call the “you can’t, but we can” argument style. The essence of it is this: one party declares a certain topic, appeal, source of authority, term or phrase, or whatever, to be off-limits. The other side agrees. Then the first side proceeds to appeal to that topic, phrase, etc.; but when the other side brings it up, they are reprimanded for speaking on an off-limits topic.

This has plagued the political campaigns this year. Senator Clinton committed it when she castigated others for holding her gender against her, only to turn around and declare that a vote for her is a step of progress for women everywhere. Senator Obama has done something similar with regard to race (and his “youthfulness” as well). Most recently, the McCain/Palin campaign has employed it, first saying that Governor Palin’s pregnant daughter should be “out of bounds” for political discussion, then parlaying it into a mark in her favor as a Pro-Life candidate.

But it happens in the church, too-- and that’s where I’m even more concerned about it. A good example is this excerpt from one of my favorite books on the sacrament of Baptism, William the Baptist by James M. Chaney. This is a dialogue between William, a devoted Baptist, and his wife’s Presbyterian pastor, on whether immersion is a biblical mode of administering the sacrament (from pp.30-32):

William: ...I cannot express my astonishment to learn that you regard immersion as an unscriptural mode of baptism. You will find but few who will agree with you in that extreme view.

Pastor: Immersionists are zealous in their labors to make such an impression, but it is very erroneous. The ministers of our Church, as a body, agree with me. A few, regarding it as a mere external, look upon it with such supreme indifference that they can scarcely be said to have an opinion on it; and such may sometimes make concessions which our opposers are very quick to catch up and use to their own advantage. I have know a few who would push this question of indifference to such an extreme that, while unhesitatingly declaring immersion unscriptural as a mode of baptism, would yet, on request, administer the rite in that way. The Presbytery of Lafayette, in answer to a memorial, declared by a unanimous vote that, “it is inexpedient and IMPROPER for a Presbyterian minister to administer the rite of baptism by immersion.”

William: Such facts are new to me. But are you not mistaken as to the number of those who make such concessions? I have heard many sermons on the subject by immersionists, and by their quotations and statements they succeeded in making the impression on me that all Pædo-bapists agree in concessions that would seem to render the further discussion of the question unnecessary.

Pastor: Such concessions form the burden of their books and sermons on the subject. Some years ago I put myself to some trouble to hear a Baptist minister, who proposed to discuss the subject purely from a Bible standpoint. I was anxious to know what a man could say in favor of immersion, in three sermons an hour each, who would confine himself to the Bible, and let lexicons and Pædo-baptist concessions alone.
A worthy Baptist minister introduced the services by an earnest prayer, the burden of which was praise to God for His Word, for the clearness of its revelations, and its sufficiency in all things. I was delighted with the prayer: I regarded it as a prelude to a Bible discussion, and thought that a desire, long entertained, to hear such a discussion, was about to be gratified.
A gospel song was sung, and the minister, with only the open Bible before him, began his task. For about fifteen minutes I was charmed with an eloquent eulogy on the Bible. It was in the spirit of the prayer that preceded it. The massive Book, with its pages opened, was held up to our gaze; and “here,” said the speaker, “not in Creeds and Confessions of Faith, but here, in the Word of God, are we to look and find the mind of the Lord. TO THE LAW and the TESTIMONY if they speak not according to this word, IT IS BECAUSE THERE IS NO LIGHT IN THEM.”
What more could I desire? A Bible discussion of baptism! what I had so longed to hear.
As the sound of the speaker’s voice (in giving the quotation) was dying away, in a most reverent manner he gently closed the sacred volume, and with as much reverence as the case would admit of, he slowly pushed the source of light to his extreme left, taking one step to enable him to get it sufficiently far. The movement was inexplicable. But, in less time than it requires to tell you, the speaker was almost hidden behind books, large and small, which he piled before him, and on his right and left.
And now the Bible discussion!! For two hours we were treated to a learned dissertation-- by one who knew nothing of the Greek language-- on the meaning of “baptidzo.” Greek lexicons and Pædo-baptist commentators and writers were the sole witnesses. The Bible was wholly ignored. It was not mentioned once. No text was quoted from it!!
If it had been but a human production, I could but pity it on account of such treatment. Sacred volume, lifted so high to fall so low!
My disappointment was great, but I went to hear the second and third discourses, “et ab uno, disce omnes.” The discussion of the subject, in all, occupied more than five hours, and only at the close, and then only for about fifteen minutes, did the Bible receive any notice, and then all that was done was to quote a few favorite passages, taking it for granted that they were conclusive in favor of immersion, but making no attempt at proof.

William: In all the books I have read on the subject, and in all the discussions to which I have listened, I have noticed that such was their method, and I think it proper. It served to establish me in my views. with such concessions, and the plain teachings of the Bible, I have come to regard the question as removed from any debatable ground, and I cannot express to you my astonishment that you would intimate that a Pædo-baptist would undertake to uphold his views from the Bible alone! Am I correct in drawing the inference that any one would undertake such a task?

Pastor: Do you think any other method legitimate and satisfactory?

William: I certainly thing such a method best; but I see no objection to other aids, especially to the ad hominem arguments to which you have referred.

The gist: the Baptist pastor asserts “no creeds or confessions of faith” are admissible, but “the Word of God alone”-- in other words, “you can’t use your creeds or confessions” (which is convenient, since the Baptist church is ostensibly a “non-creedal” body). Yet, out come the commentators and Baptist resources-- perhaps what we might construe as the confessions of faith for a group that eschews confessions of faith.

So, here are some questions to ask to avoid this argument style:

• What are the topics, terms, phrases, ideas, appeals to authority, etc., that I consider “off-limits?” Why do I regard them as such?

• Is my desire for such a limitation an emotional response, or do I have reasons for it? What are the reasons?

• Is my perspective on these topics, etc., fair and just? Do I consider them “off-limits” because I am trying to cripple my discussion partner? If I allowed them into the discussion, would I simply have more work and research to do, or would I be admitting a harmful element into the debate?
• Am I willing to subject myself to the same (or similar) limitations? Have I represented my position and/or argument as one that IS subject to the same limitations, but have failed to fulfill that?
• Is the limitation I am proposing a matter of vital importance, or simply a difference of opinion? Would my discussion partner categorize it in the same way? (And what is suggested by an answer of “no” to that last question?)

Tags: theology, logic, love, Language, rhetoric, community, Faith & Life, Politics

Picking up on the discussion about fallacies, let’s talk about a very common one: the Slippery Slope fallacy.

The basic idea behind the Slippery Slope fallacy is that one event is simply a step along the way, and it will lead to another and another and so on until we inevitably arrive at something dire and drastic which no one wants.

Slippery Slopes assume that there is a fixed path in one direction for every choice, and that they first step along that path always and inevitably leads to the end of the path.

A good example from the Deaconess/women in diaconal ministry debate (which has become a good case study for understanding logic-- and logical error-- in theological discussion) is the following argument, which I’ve heard or read a number of times over the last several months:

If we allow women to be ordained as Deacons, it will only be a matter of time before we are ordaining them as Ruling Elders and eventually Pastors!

Now, this argument exhibits more than one fallacy (it also contains a “False Cause” fallacy, which we’ll cover another time), but it is a clear Slippery Slope. I’ll demonstrate why in just a moment.

How do you argue against a Slippery Slope fallacy? There are essentially two ways:

• By counter-example: a counter-example is an argument that follows the same form or concept of an argument, but arrives at a different conclusion. A good counter-example will expose a Slippery Slope’s error.
• By severing the link: a Slippery Slope depends on the assumed link between the “steps” down the slope; break that link, and you’ve demonstrated the error of the fallacy.

To illustrate: a counter-example might be, “Both the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church (ARP) and the Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America (RPCNA) have ordained women as Deacons for decades, and both of these denominations are becoming more conservative in their theology in general, not less.”

Meanwhile, here is a severance of the link: “Your argument assumes that the office of Deacon and the office (or offices) of Ruling and Teaching Elder are essentially the same, and that a Deacon is merely an Elder-in-training or something of that sort. But Scripture makes it clear that one is inherently different from the other-- and that it is not the case that a Deacon is simply a ‘Junior Elder.’ If the offices are different, then one doesn’t necessarily lead to the other.”

Tags: theology, community, logic, love, Faith & Life, Language

I managed to finish a few more books this month than last-- and more importantly (to me, at least), I got my rhythm back for reading. I feel like I’m plowing through them lately, having finished four books in the last 10 days.

Here’s my list for August:

• Evangelism in the Small Membership Church by Royal Speidel. This book is one of a series, entitled the “ministry in the small membership church” series, published by Abingdon Press. I can’t tell you how disappointed I am by this book. For one thing, most of it really isn’t about evangelism at all; after the first couple of chapters, the bulk of the content is just about pastoral ministry in general. Ironically, the author suggests that the book is a good one for groups of laypeople, but most of the book focuses on the pastoral side of church ministry. Secondly, the author doesn’t speak to small membership churches-- not really; he frequently cites examples from his own ministry experience where he refers to congregations of well over 100, several times mentioning events accomodating more than 500-- even though approx. 60% of all churches are congregations of 100 or fewer. Finally, much of his theology is just poor; there were a number of times that I just shook my head, wondering where he got an idea or how he found what he was saying in the text. While there are a few ideas in the book that I will come back to-- and I’m glad to have read it for those alone-- I simply cannot recommend this one. (3)
• Waterbrook Press Children’s Extravaganza (children’s books)-- reviewed earlier in the month: God Gave Us Heaven by Lisa Tawn Bergren, When God Created My Toes and God Loves Me More Than That by Dandi Daley Mackall
• Making a Meal of It: Rethinking the theology of the Lord’s Supper by Ben Witherington, III. I appreciate Witherington’s keen insight into the historical, social, and anthropological culture of biblical times; I’ve long been a fan of his “socio-rhetorical” commentaries. He brings that same insight into this book, giving a comprehensive look at what the institution and celebration of the Lord’s Supper would have looked like in Jesus’ day, and in the early church. There is good stuff to be found here, and Witherington affirms much of what has been something of a revival in Lord’s Supper theology. But I think the subtitle may take things a bit too far: the rethinking began well before this book was published (in 2007). Still, good stuff, even if Witherington is sometimes on the fringes with his theology, which makes me cautious about recommending him. Only because of that occasional theological variance, I rank this one a little lower than I might otherwise. (7)
• How to Pick a Peach: the search for flavor from farm to table by Russ Parsons. This has been a great and fun read, one I picked up for our vacation in the NC mountains and have recently finished. Parsons offers a season-by-season, produce-by-produce guide for how to know when fruits or vegetables are ripe, how to store them, and even some good advice on preparation and cooking. He also has encyclopedic knowledge of the backgrounds of our modern produce, as well as the food industry (farm and market). His book is peppered with history, science, recipes, and tips for the garden and kitchen alongside a nearly-exhaustive reference for produce. It deserves a place on my shelf alongside my cookbooks and other kitchen references, but I found that I enjoyed reading it cover-to-cover, unlike any reference book I’ve read before. (10)
• The Lord’s Supper: Eternal Word in broken bread by Robert Letham (re-read). I re-read this one quickly in preparation for the sermon series I’m about to begin on the subject of the Lord’s Supper. Letham does such a great job of covering this topic, with a lot packed into this little book (only 60 or so pages). I especially appreciate Letham’s practical approach: everything he has put into this book is geared toward a practicable use, and while the content is certainly theologically rich it is also written at a lay-level. So this would be a great book to introduce folks-- maybe in a Sunday School class, or officer training-- to the fundamentals of the Reformed theology of the Lord’s Supper. It’s not comprehensive-- there’s a good bit of Old Testament and historical content missing that is well-covered in other books (such as Given for You by Keith A. Mathison). But it is a great primer. (9)
• A Handful of Pebbles: theological liberalism and the church by Peter Barnes. This small book offers a brief history of the rise of liberalism in the church, and it does a fair job of that. I appreciated some of the discussion about key doctrines, especially. However, my question is who the intended audience for the book is. If it is for pastors or professors, it is far too thin on history and foundations to be of great use; if, on the other hand, it is intended as an apologetic for liberal thinkers, it is likely too thin on refutation and discussion of problems. The best audience I can think of for this book is the average church member in an evangelical church, who is himself/herself already committed to orthodoxy; for this person, it would be a good introduction to the indicators of liberal theology and their problems. While the tone is a bit defensive, perhaps that is justified given the subject. (7+)
• The Faith of Barack Obama by Stephen Mansfield. I’ve already reviewed this book on my blog, and you can read my review here. (8+)
• Serving in Church Visitation by Jerry M. Stubblefield. I was excited about this little book when I first got it-- and I wasn’t disappointed! This introduction to the approach, attitude, and practice of visiting others on behalf of Christ and His church is brief, yet as thorough as it needs to be. This would be a good tool to use in Officer Training, or perhaps more appropriately in ongoing study with existing officers-- though it is not limited to officers in its scope or audience. (9+)

Tags: reading, Cultural Discernment, theology

Continuing my “Logic for Theological Discussion” series (which I will henceforth label “LTD”), I’d like to talk today about fallacies: what they are and how they work.

A fallacy is a part of an argument. Specifically, it is a part that is able to be shown to have a logical problem or flaw. Once that flaw is demonstrated, the whole argument fails. (When this is so, the argument is said to be “fallacious.”)

You would be astonished at how frequently fallacies occur in arguments, from the most casual and conversational to the most articulate, meticulously word-smithed presentation. They are as common as the rain.

When a fallacy occurs, it is usually a subtle, and can be hard to detect at first; this is often because more than one fallacy occurs at the same time, and one masks the other. Fallacies come in the form of matters of relevance, vague or ambiguous use of words or ideas, matters of correlation or cause, or exploiting some sort of emotional element in the listener.

A good (and very common) example of a fallacy is the Ad Hominem fallacy. There are actually several different forms of an Ad Hominem (which is Latin, meaning “to the person”), but they all amount to something along the same lines: when you cannot strongly attack the argument itself, attack the person doing the arguing.

For example: in the discussions surrounding the issue of women as deacons/deaconesses, something the “pro” side (in other words, they were for some form of diaconal service being open to women) would often say is, “The reason the PCA’s Book of Church Order is the way it is can be traced back to the reactionary tendencies of the PCA’s founders.”

(Mea Culpa: I’ve said some form of this statement before.)

Let me first point out how this is an Ad Hominem fallacy: rather than addressing the argument-- namely, that the Book of Church Order as written prohibits any ordination of women to church office-- the response attacks the arguer. In this case, it means either, “The writers of the BCO were wrong because they were reactionaries,” or, “If you agree with the BCO, then you are wrong because, since the writers of the BCO were reactionaries, so are you.”

Neither of these is relevant to the question of whether the BCO is correct in its interpretation and application of Scripture when it comes to women in diaconal service. Therefore, claiming that the writers were reactionaries has no real bearing on the soundness of the argument.

How do you deal with an Ad Hominem fallacy when one is thrown at you? There are several strategies:

• Take the higher ground: ignore the fallacy and stick to the facts and real arguments. Give other listeners the benefit of the doubt in being able to recognize the fallacious quality of the argument. (Best when the Ad Hominem is obvious and blatant.)
• Address it briefly: suggest that there is no reason to get distracted by name-calling, and request that you stick to the subject at hand instead of getting distracted by irrelevant opinions. (Best when the audience is neutral about whether the Ad Hominem is true, and/or when the Ad Hominem is based on a highly opinionated perspective rather than something more factually-based.)
• Force them to work it out: ask them probing questions about their claim, requiring them to explain the direct relevance of what they have said and gradually exposing their argument as a fallacy. (Best when the audience is favorable toward the fallacious position.)

Tags: logic, Language, theology, community, Faith & Life, love

I once worked for a church where a member of the pastoral staff and I didn’t fully agree on theological matters. He might have defined himself (in comparison to me) as more broadly evangelical, while I might have defined myself (in relation to him) as more traditionally Reformed. But when it came to him defining me, the choice was simple.

He called me a “TR”.

If you’ve never encountered the label “TR” before, it means “Totally Reformed” or “Truly Reformed”. This wasn’t the first time I had encountered the label, but it was the first time I had been called one. (And the last, as far as I know.)

When someone is called a TR, it doesn’t really define a clear meaning of who they are, what they think, or where they stand on a position. Rather, it is a judgment waged entirely on one person’s thoughts relative to another person.

So many will use the label TR as a pejorative term: “He’s such a TR” (meaning, “he’s more ‘Reformed’ than me). Others will use it with a sense of theological hubris: “I’m a TR” (meaning, “I’m more ‘Reformed’ than you”). In neither case is the term helpful.

For years, the terms “liberal” and “conservative” have had clear and straightforward associations. Over that time,
they have served as categories that we might safely place ourselves (and others) within, which lends great understanding of what we (and others) think, believe, agree or disagree with, etc.

I believe that time has passed us by. I think these labels, like “TR”, are no longer helpful, but are simply used in either pejorative or haughty ways.

As I recently read a book entitled, A Handful of Pebbles: theological liberalism and the church, this idea (that the labels no longer serve a useful purpose) kept coming to mind. It wasn’t unclear what the author meant by it, but it was clear that he supposed that what he described as “theological liberalism” was all that there was to it.

Is it possible that there are liberal ideas and ideals that (so-called) conservatives might also embrace? Or that there are conservative ideas and ideals that (so-called) liberals might embrace? Whether we are discussing theology, politics, social issues, or economics, I think the lines are blurring.

For example, we have any number of people in political office today who are called “conservatives”-- yet these people are not “conservative” in every way: some may be fiscal conservatives, but social moderates and theological liberals. Similarly, there are many who are categorized as “liberals” who are socially and theologically conservative, but are politically liberal.

And, of course, there is the matter of degree. Whether a person assumes the mantle of conservative or liberal, or more or less “Reformed”, they are doing so in comparison to others. And the problem with association by degrees was best articulated by Tim Keller:

No matter what you believe, there will always be someone to your ‘right’, as it were, who thinks you sold out the Gospel.

Keller went on to illustrate by talking about living in community. So you think you know what vulnerable community is? he asks. Look at the Amish-- they blow us away when it comes to living in an intimate community.

But, Keller says, a people-group like the Auca indians (the group that Jim and Elizabeth Elliot sought to reach as missionaries) will look at the Amish and write them off. You think you know intimate community? How can you-- you have walls! It turns out that the Aucas live in dwellings with no walls, and everything that anyone does is announced. When Elizabeth Elliot left her dwelling to go to the bathroom, someone would announce, “the white woman is going down to the river to urinate”.

We have many, many categories and labels that are quite useful-- but we have a good number (more than we should) that aren’t. So, how can we evaluate our labels? Here are a few questions to ask:

• Am I labeling an idea, or a person? If I am labeling a person, am I being hasty in casting them into a group that they do not deserve to be in?
• Why do I feel the need to apply a label or category to this person or idea? Will applying a label or category truly help me (and others) understand their point of view?
• Is my use of labels or categories gracious and kind, giving credit where credit is due? Or is it something that tears another down or builds me up (or both)?
• Is the label or category I am using an objective qualification of a particular view or idea? Or is it simply a means of comparing myself or someone else to others?
• Does my use of labels or categories drive myself and others to Christ and to orthodoxy? Is speaking of someone or some idea in this way a credit to the Gospel?
• Is my use of labels or categories something I would gladly say to the person I am speaking of? Could I say this to them without embarrassment or qualification? Would the feel honored and understood by my use of the label or category I am applying to them?

Tags: theology, logic, love, rhetoric, community, Language, Faith & Life, Politics

Closely related to my ongoing discussion on logic is the concept of argument style, which is really a part of rhetoric. As I can, I’ll explore that concept as well. Here’s the first installment.

One of the problems that face us when we’re dealing with arguments and dialogue is that, quite often, one side of the argument has done a good bit more consideration on the topic than the other side. This frequently leads to what I find to be a common problem in theological discussion: the Bait-and-Switch.

The Bait-and-Switch looks like this: Two thinkers walk into a discussion. Thinker one (we’ll call him Tom) is quite familiar with the topic of the discussion, while thinker two (who we shall call Ann) is only vaguely aware of the major points.

In fact, Tom is not only familiar with the topic, but is well-convinced of his position, and has ready access to multiple articles and books that support his view. Ann, on the other hand, has perhaps encountered Tom’s view before; maybe she has even read an article or two. It may be that she has a few reasons to question whether Tom’s perspective is right, but she is, at very least, unwilling to be quick to change her views of what she considers orthodox.

So when Tom encounters Ann, he tosses out a casual question to her that is phrased in such a way as to suggest that the question-- and (here’s the important thing) the intent of the question-- is objective. Perhaps the question is worded ambiguously, or maybe it contains an asking phrase that requests the opinion of the other in an apparently sincere way.

Ann takes the bait. She answers with a sincere statement of her opinion. She probably shoots from the hip to a fair degree, and she may very well disclaim exactly that. Her answer is brief, but it probably states a good bit (even all) of what she might have to say about the matter.

So Tom sets the hook. If he’s really good at this, he might ask a few follow-up questions that are similarly ambiguous, again appealing for her honest answer. Then he reels her in: she is suddenly blasted with an overwhelming amount of information. It might be in the form of an article cut-and-pasted into an e-mail, or a series of quotes (lots of them-- 15 or more) posted in the comments of a blog post, or the spoken dialogue switches to monologue for a time. The actual form doesn’t really matter-- it’s the result that does.

If Tom gets his fish, then the result is that Ann is sucked into a discussion that she can’t possibly win, and Tom will eventually demonstrate that he is right because his opponent cannot sufficiently out-argue him. (If Ann is smart, she jumps off the hook at the point when the first wave of overwhelming information comes.)

Here’s what is wrong with the above style of argument:

• It begins with deception. Tom presents himself as sincerely interested in Ann’s opinion, when he is not. He asks a question or makes a statement that is worded to imply objectivity when none is present. Tom has set out to convince someone of his point of view, but acts like he is still arriving at it.
• From deception it moves to a psychological move on the order of Cialdini: because Ann has invested time and energy into this discussion, she feels obligated to continue. Tom capitalizes on this psychology, binding her into what amounts to a sales pitch.
• Tom then beats her up and presents her as the defeated foe, which is a straw man fallacy (more on this in a future post). Ann never set out to be his foe, and she never presented herself as a representative for the “other side” of the topic. Yet Tom trumpets the “other side” as defeated because Ann has been defeated.
• Overall, Tom has forsaken the loving fellowship that he might have with his sister in Christ for the sake of making his point. Deception, head games, and beating her up in argument is not the way to build a friendship, and surely Ann feels like she has been used and abused. Hardly a brotherly model.

I won’t judge Tom’s motives behind this, and I’m sure that what is in the heart of those who frequently employ this approach is not uniform. But I would suggest that one way to counter this instinct is to ask ourselves the following questions:

• What are my motives in asking the questions I am asking? Have I presented myself as undecided about something that I am actually decided on? If so, why?
• Am I aware of whether or not my discussion partner(s) are as well-versed on the topic as I am? If they are not, have I graciously extended patience to them as they get up to speed? Have I been careful not to overwhelm them with too many different points of information, or simply too much information?
• Have I been easy to disagree with? That is, has my spirit been forbearing and gracious toward them, so that they still feel cherished and valued as a fellow believer?
• Have I represented our discussion as being more than it really is? Have I inappropriately positioned myself or those with whom I am discussing as the final representative of a position or view?
• Am I willing to be wrong, if I could be shown from Scripture or from other evidence that my perspective is incorrect? If I have succeeded in demonstrating that someone else is wrong, have I been gracious and loving in the way that I exposed error, not lording it over them in a haughty manner?
• Overall, have I dealt with my discussion partner(s) in a manner that reflects love for a brother or sister in Christ? Would they gladly engage in another discussion with me in the future, even if they knew we disagreed? Would others inside and outside the church consider my manner of dealing with them as a credit to the gospel?

Tags: theology, logic, love, community, Language, Faith & Life, rhetoric

One of the fundamental ideas in logic is that in an argument, you have two sorts of ideas (statements) being presented: a conclusion, and one or more premises.

The conclusion ought to be fairly self-evident in definition: that point which the whole of the argument is attempting to demonstrate to be the case.

The premises (and there is almost always more than one) are those phrases or sentences (also known as statements) which are asserted as reasons to believe the conclusion.

Now, let’s talk about truth and what is called “truth value” for a moment. whenever a sentence can be said to be true or false, that sentence has a “truth value”-- and the truth value is whether or not it is true or false. Some sentences cannot be said to be true or false. A question, for example, or an exclamation cannot be disputed as untrue. But a premise MUST be a sentence that can be said to be true or false.

However, it is technically incorrect to say that an argument is “true” or “false”. This is because there is more to whether an argument is a good one or not than simply the truth value of its statements. Rather, an argument can be said to be two things: valid (or invalid), and sound (or unsound).

Validity (whether an argument is valid or not) is based on form alone, not on content. I know what you’re thinking: “is it possible for an argument to have premises that are both true, and a conclusion that is true, and the argument still not be valid?” Good question-- and the answer is yes. In fact, any of the following are possible:

• A valid argument whose premises are true and conclusion is false.
• An invalid argument whose premises and conclusion are true.
• A valid argument whose premises and conclusion are false.
• A valid argument whose premises are false and conclusion is true.

Of course, it’s also possible to have a valid argument whose premises and conclusion are all true. When that is the case, we say that the argument is “sound.” (All other cases are examples of unsound arguments.)

Validity is a complex thing, and I won’t get into it in detail now. I may dedicate a post or two to it in the future. Let’s assume, for now, that the arguments presented are valid (which is a treacherous assumption in many cases).

The tricky part about soundness in arguments is that there is often one or more premises that are left out-- either because they are implied within the argument, they are unknown factors (either to the arguer or the listener), or because to state them outright would expose the argument as unsound. It is the last case that gets us into the most trouble when it comes to theological discussions.

For example, I overheard a discussion at General Assembly about the meaning of the phrase, “their wives must be women worthy of respect” in 1 Timothy 3:11. Of the two people discussing the matter, one (we’ll call him Fred) was convinced that a naked reading of the English as rendered in the NIV was plain in its meaning-- clearly, thought he, this verse means that the verse is speaking of the wives of Deacons, not women in general. The other fellow (who we’ll call Joe) thought that, since the English is a translation from another language, we must be careful to assume that a naked reading is always accurate; he also felt that the naked reading was problematic because of what is in the original Greek (specifically, that the word translated as “wives” can also mean simply, “women”). The dialogue went something like this:

Fred: Clearly, 1 Timothy doesn’t suggest that a woman may be a Deacon or Deaconess.
Joe: I’m not sure that we can say that with such certainty. Doesn’t that assume a lot of what the translation ought to be?
Fred: Like what?
Joe: Like, what about the fact that the word translated “wives” can also mean just “women”?
Fred: Don’t you think that the Bible is clear?
Joe: Well, I was reading a commentary by a scholar I trust, and he said it wasn’t so cut-and-dried.
Fred: Some have their opinions about what this verse means, but I for one don’t think we should undermine God.

So, here’s the argument as it was stated:

Premise 1: Some people have theories about what 1 Tim. 3:11 means. (Truth value= true)
Premise 2: We shouldn’t undermine God. (Truth value= true)
Conclusion: 1 Timothy does not suggest that a woman may be a Deacon or Deaconess.

So, assuming the argument is valid, is this argument sound, or unsound? Look at the argument in the original dialogue again; is there a missing premise?

I would argue that there is-- though my guess is that even Fred doesn’t realize that it is there. I think the argument really goes like this:

Premise 1: Some people have theories about what 1 Tim. 3:11 means. (Truth value= true)
Missing Premise: My opinion about what it means is the same as God’s opinion about what it means.
Premise 2: We shouldn’t undermine God. (Truth value= true)
Conclusion: 1 Timothy does not suggest that a woman may be a Deacon or Deaconess.

See the problem? Now, this argument (as presented in the “full” version) has lots of problems, including the use of several “fallacies” which we’ll get into next time. But I hope that, even in this brief example, it is becoming clear how arguments work and how the truth can be easily missed or even distorted.

Tags: theology, Language, logic, love, community, Faith & Life

Many readers will know that while I was in seminary, I taught at a small school just outside of St. Louis. Two of the classes I taught were Logic and Rhetoric. (I won’t go into a lot of detail about Rhetoric, but “Rhetoric” means a lot more than the way we hear it thrown around on the news; the study of Rhetoric is actually the study of persuasive communication, which obviously includes a great amount of the communication we have today.) I taught those classes because I had a fair amount of training in both areas, and over the years I’ve picked up a lot about how language, reason, and sound thinking work (and don’t work) in discussions, both formal and informal.

Since beginning seminary, I’ve also noticed a good bit about the nature of theological discussion and debate, as well. In short, I’d have to say that at least a simple majority of the discussions, debates, and conversations I’ve witnessed fairly butchered many of the fundamental ideas of basic reason and logic.

So one of the things I want to do is to start an occasional series of blog posts that look at logic and how it ought to guide theological discussions. I think that a large part of the problem is that many people don’t know what makes an argument for or against a particular position or viewpoint a good or bad argument. That’s a problem that we can fix-- and we should.

(For some people, I did something in the previous paragraph that was a new idea: the notion that an “argument” is actually a neutral idea, and that some may be good and others may be bad. Many of us have been taught implicitly that “arguing” and “fighting” -- or “arguing” and “bickering” -- are essentially the same thing, when they are not. One can offer a good, well-reasoned argument for or against something that is loud, vitriolic, and abusive; another may offer an unsound argument that is pleasant, civil, and gentle. Or vice-versa.)

For starters, here’s a fundamental concept of logic: The way we say things is just as communicative as what we say.

By “the way we say things” I mean their form. Lauguage offers us a number of forms that are important to consider; to name a few:

• Grammatical form-- often a misplaced comma or a poorly understood semi-colin can change meaning drastically.
• Syntactical form-- word choice (syntax) is also important, since words usually have a great variety of meanings.
• Logical form-- moving beyond grammar and word choice, by this I mean the way that sentences, paragraphs, and communication on a much larger scale fit together-- in themselves, and when connected to each other.
• Forms of ethos and pathos-- how we are sensitive (or insensitive) to embodying character (godly character, sinful character) and emotion in what we communicate, not only by words but by how we say them.

These are just some examples of form. To get a sense of how form matters as much as content, consider the sentence below:

I know you didn’t mean it.

Now, think of how placing accent behind one or another word in that sentence might change its meaning:

• I know you didn’t mean it. (Implying that others may not know.)
• I KNOW you didn’t mean it. (Suggesting that it may have seemed like you did.)
• I know you didn’t MEAN it. (But it hurt anyway.)

Get the picture? Words are powerful. But language is much more than words-- it’s also about how we use them. That’s a fundamental principle of logic.

More on this soon.

Tags: logic, Language, love, community, theology, Faith & Life

June was full of travel, which in this case meant substantially less reading for me. I feel a little bit starved of books, and hope that I’ll recover somewhat in July and August.

At any rate, here are the couple of books I read in June:

Effective Small Churches in the Twenty-First Century by Carl S. Dudley is a very helpful book that is based on thorough and useful research. Dudley deals with the data and concepts that arose from his study, so many of the ideas here are fresh and not found elsewhere (in other words, this one takes you beyond the "conventional wisdom” about small churches). A bit of a slow read at parts, but generally good stuff. (8+)

“The Vision Thing” by Don K. Clements. Clements is a retired PCA Pastor who now does consulting through Metokos Ministries, working with churches in helping them develop a useful vision for their congregation. He freely admits that he has borrowed heavily from Aubrey Malphurs’s Developing a Vision for Ministry in the 21^st Century, but he does a good job of summarizing that book in this small volume. Clements clearly knows how to coach churches in this process, and his knowledge comes through in the book. He writes with a conversational style, and it’s not difficult to get a fair grasp of what is needed for vision-casting through this little book. (8)

Tags: reading, Cultural Discernment

I’ve mentioned before (twice: here and here) that a significant issue facing this year’s General Assembly was the question of women and how they fit into diaconal ministry. In what my friend Steven Estock called “the year of the woman,” there were no less than five overtures before the assembly that spoke to this matter, most of them asking the assembly to erect a study committee that would apply high-level scholarship to the issue.

After some substantial discussion (and some interesting moves of parliamentary procedure), the primary overture (and the rest as well, as related overtures) was answered in the negative (in other words, we voted against it) on the grounds that:

...the presbyteries should work through the implications in their own local contexts.

Their response was centered around the basis that the overtures were intended essentially to amend the Book of Church Order, and they pointed out that there are processes to amend the BCO that don’t require the time and resources of a study committee.

Already there is quite a bit of stir about this decision. Some will continue to debate the matter in a way that suggests that the vote hasn’t yet happened. Others will continue to insist that the questions being asked are such simple matters that the motives of the questioners must be suspect. (For a glimpse of some of this, you might read some of the responses to ByFaith’s report of the decision.)

While I’m disappointed with the vote, I don’t think either of these responses is the most helpful or appropriate. Part of our presbyterianism-- a large part, actually-- is that we acknowledge that God works through His body, at least as much as (if not more than) through individual believers. So we need to trust that, if the assembly voted against this overture, God has good purposes for that.

What’s before us, then, is to receive the advice and instruction of the assembly and take up study of the issue in the lower bodies. I’m sure many are already beginning to do exactly this-- I certainly am-- and I’ll be curious to see how many overtures are presented next year with, not just questions about the issue that MIGHT lead to an amendment, but actual amendments.

Tags: PCA, PCA Polity, theology, Bible

The Work of the Pastor by William Still (re-read). This brief volume is a help, challenge, and rebuke for all of us. Still, who pastored a single flock in Scotland for 51 years, here presents the sum of the pastor's duties, distilling it down to the essence of shepherding and feeding the lambs on the Word of God. For such a short book, there is much to be found here, and it is one of those books I believe should make its way into the rotation of every pastor. (10)

Wiring a House by Rex Cauldwell. Yes, I actually read this book cover-to-cover. And, in fact, I thought it was a great read. When I was in seminary, a friend who was a former electrician taught me how to wire lights and outlets; now, as I face the work of our attic renovation, I realized that I had a bit more wiring to do than simply a light socket here and there. This book answered every question I had remaining, and gave me the knowledge and confidence to move ahead with the electrical part of the job without fear (or at least without more fear than is a healthy amount when working with electricity). This writer is a seasoned Master Electrician, and he does a great job of telling the industry secrets while introducing concept after concept in a very readable and didactic manner. He also goes the extra mile with "Above Code" comments in every chapter, telling you where the code standards aren't quite enough for one reason or another. A great book, and a must-read for me in my current status as part-time contractor! (9)

With Reverence and Awe by D.G. Hart and John R. Muether. This book, subtitled, "Returning to the Basics of Reformed Worship," was a difficult read for me. I agreed with 90% of the content, and found it engaging in that manner; however, I agreed with about 30% of the tone-- how they brought about communicating their ideas. Like most forms of communication, tone matters so much when conveying sometimes difficult and/or confronting content. Even though they claim not to do this (of course they would!), there was also a little edge of "if you're not worshiping like us, then you're not worshiping the way God wants you to" in the book; that sort of arrogance gets under my skin quickly, even in small doses. There is some good content in this book, and they do a fair job of driving the discussion toward the Scriptures-- it might be worth reading just as an introduction to relevant biblical texts for thinking about worship (though other books do a better job at that). (5)

Emotionally Healthy Spirituality by Peter Scazzero (re-read). I first read this book a few years ago, but decided that it might be, well, healthy to read it again. It was just as good. Scazzero deals with a difficult subject honestly, with clarity, and with practicality. He discusses what emotional health is (on a primarily individual level), and how a church might (or any relational group) might embody good emotional health. While there are some shortcomings in the book, and while I want for more help and information on some of the points (another post on this is coming), I'd like to think that every church CAN aspire to what Scazzero sets forth as something like an ideal. (8+)

Ruling Elder by Leonard Van Horn. Here's a (very) brief little booklet that is great for orienting Elder candidates to the office. It is quite basic, offering a short examination of three questions: Are you called to be an Elder? What is your view of the church? Are you qualified to be an Elder? Van Horn works through each competently. By no means is this little book sufficient for all officer training needs! But I plan to use it as a give-away to all nominees (in complement to the training they are already receiving) to help guide them in considering their nomination. (8)

Framing Floors, Walls, and Ceilings by the editors of Fine Homebuilding. You can tell by the fact that I read two books on home remodeling-type subjects that I'm in the midst of a big project at the house! Unfortunately, this one wasn't nearly as good as the one above. It looks to be essentially a compilation of articles by these editors, all of which are moderately helpful. But because this one was cobbled together-- rather than written step-by-step with comprehensive planning involved, like Wiring a House was-- there are big holes of information. Since I've done some basic building and remodeling before, I was mostly able to follow along; someone with no experience in this area would easily get lost. I'll still use this for reference at times, but it's likely that I'll look for another (better) book on the subject to round out my knowledge-base. (4)

Tags: reading, Cultural Discernment

I mentioned a few weeks ago that Philadelphia Presbytery has submitted an overture to the PCA's General Assembly asking the GA to erect a study committee on Deaconesses. That overture has been echoed by the Western Canada Presbytery, and if I'm able to read this sort of thing at all, the committee will almost certainly be erected.

It may be needless to point out that this issue has caused quite a bit of stir and discussion. The PCA's own magazine, byFaith, has posted a summary of the announcement of the overture and that has generated quite a bit of discussion in the comments. Other, less "official" sources have also hosted a significant amount of discussion as well. A good bit of the discussion is quite helpful, offering finer points and perspectives that would simply be impossible to gather were it not for this Internet/Information Age that we live in.

Sadly, a lot of the discussion has also deteriorated into mostly or totally unhelpful rant, name-calling, and fear-mongering. A few of the points of discussion may be summed up as follows:

• "Scripture is clear on this matter (OR, arguing that Scripture isn't clear is a sign of our cultural liberalism and feminism)." The thought process here: because the NIV translates 1 Timothy 3:11 with reference to "their wives" instead of (the equally possible) "the women;" and because it translates "diakonos" Romans 16:1 as "servant" because it refers to a woman, then the issue is clearly settled. But who is to say that these translations are filled with cultural bias or the influence of a historical patriarchalism? Anyone who says, "Scripture is clear" has probably only been looking at English translations.
• 
  
• "The Book of Church Order (BCO) already prohibits ordaining women as Deacons." The line of thought here: The BCO is a finished, completed document that is utterly faithful to Scripture and never need be changed or amended to be brought closer to the Bible. This is difficult to reconcile with (common sense and) the Westminster Confession of Faith, which says, "All syonds or councils since the apostles' times, whether general or particular, may err, and many have erred; therefore they are not to be made the rule of faith or practice, but to be used as an help in both" (WCF 31.4).
• 
  
• "The word that is translated 'Deacon' in the Bible for men is obviously translated as 'servant' for women." Thought process: meaning changes substantially, even fundamentally, based solely on gender. This is an interesting foundational principle-- and one I'd like to hear more support for by other examples before accepting, which the arguers haven't provided.
• 
  
• "The Apostles' recognition of Phoebe, and other women in the New Testament, was a function of their cultural role-- something that doesn't apply to us." The appeal here is to the historical context, which of course is a fundamental principle in Bible interpretation. The problem is that these same folks will argue that historical context trumps literary context (or the language of the text itself-- see previous bullet) when Phoebe is mentioned, but when dealing with, say, 1 Timothy 3:11, quickly jump to the next argument...
• 
  
• "The historical context doesn't apply, since Paul was writing normative principles to Timothy about the qualifications for Deacons." Line of thought: somehow historical context is disposable for any normative portion of biblical text. The problem with that is that it would rule out the context of the deliverance and redemption of Israel out of Egyptian slavery as the setting for the 10 commandments, for example-- which most would agree poses some problems about a classic Reformed understanding of the 10 commandments.
• 
  
• "Allowing women as Deacons (even if the Bible permits it) will inevitably lead to handing over all authority in the church to women." The thinking here is a classic slippery slope notion: if one thing is bad or prohibited, then we dare not go near anything close to that thing. (This was a problem that the Pharisees often had, by the way...)
• 
  
• "Allowing women as Deacons is granting them authority and leadership that is unbibilcal." The thought trajectory in this argument is that Deacons have authority of the same sort that Elders have, and the Bible forbids women to have such authority. The problems here are rooted in the (mistaken and unbiblical) idea that Deacons are some kind of "Junior Elder" and therefore share in the role of authority with the Elders. But two problems immediately arise from this line of thought: first, the BCO itself defines the office of Deacon as "one of sympathy and service" (BCO 9.1) while it defines the Elder as office of exercising "government and discipline" (BCO 8.3)-- very different roles, one with clear distinction of authority and the other with, at best, less clear distinction. Secondly, the Deacons are "under the supervision and authority of the Session" (BCO 9.2), which begs the question: what authority do they have that, for example, a Sunday School teacher or WIC (Women in the Church) leader doesn't also have?
• 
  
• "We already have the WIC; what do we need women as Deacons for?" The idea here being that the WIC serves as a functional body of "Deaconesses" and we should simply let things remain as they are. Here again, there are two problems with this: first, Scripture does not define for us something like a WIC, and if we desire to pattern our bodies of leadership after Scripture then we should be careful about casually assuming that the WIC fulfills a role that Scripture defines for women. Secondly, and more importantly: the WIC is a ministry of leadership, structured specifically to minister to the women in the church; yet, the office of Deacon is broader than just women. Frankly, I learn a lot from women and have benefited from the ministry and teaching of many women-- and I find the suggestion that women should only minister to other women (and children) short-sighted.
• 
  
• "We ought to just do like ____ [insert name of a very large PCA church in the south] with the way they handle Deacon's assistants." I was surprised to see this argument made by more than one or two people. The thinking here: So-and-so has figured it out, and they should set the pace for all PCA churches. Again, problems arise: setting aside the very big assumption that the leadership there really has figured it out and has hit upon the perfect biblical solution, what does this have to do with what the BCO says about Deacons and women? But a closer look at the proposed practices reveals the truth: said PCA church's solution is to hire out the work of "serving tables" to outsiders (many of them unbelievers, all of them African-Americans).

I'm not convinced that blogs and discussion boards (mine included) are completely helpful in matters like these. It seems to me that folks are getting so entrenched in their positions, long before GA, that the possibility of healthy, profitable discussion on a study committee-- and even a good appointment of that committee-- is diminished.

I'm not decided about the matter. I've held back from my inclination to dig into the issue and study it to the point of deciding what my mind is about it-- though I'll take the time to do that before GA. But I am struck by this: most of the arguments against the study committee (summarized above) go against my logical inclinations-- committing fallacies and demonstrating inconsistency frequently-- and these weaken the case against a committee significantly. So I'm obviously in favor of erecting a study committee, even if I'm not decided on the issue of women as Deacons/Deaconesses.

Maybe I shouldn't be, but I'm surprised that brothers and sisters in the PCA can't have a more constructive conversation about all of this. As much as anything, reading some of these discussions have caused me to grieve the lack of brotherly love and charitable grace within our denomination, and my heart has frequently been heavy about it over the past few weeks. Why is an overture to study ANY part of the BCO to consider if it is fully and truly based on Scripture so threatening?

One commenter (Scott Truax of Peace Presbyterian Church, Cary, NC) at the byFaith page summed it up the best: "If we follow Scripture, we have nothing to fear."

Tags: Bible, Biblical Theology, theology, PCA Polity, Systematic Theology, PCA, Pastoral ministry, Politics, community

The Living Church by John Stott. This was a good book on pastoral ministry in the church by a man who is a hero of Christendom. John Stott has served in ministry for over 60 years, most of those as the Rector of All Souls Church in London. His insights about ministry in the church are made valuable in part because of the testimony that stands behind them-- his many years of faithful service. There are good insights here, and it is worth reading even if it's not the "best" book on pastoral ministry out there. (8+)

The Cross of Christ by John Stott (re-read). That's right-- two books by the same author in one month! Actually, I started reading this one two months ago, and have used it extensively as I prepared my series on the cross. This one was written 20 years before the other, and is THE definitive work on the theology of the cross, in my view. It's quite readable, even though it digs deep, and Stott does a great job of taking in a broad swath, making the scope of his focus quite comprehensive, while still following a clear and direct path to understanding the thrust of the cross. I first read this one for my "Christ and Salvation" class in seminary, but frankly I've read it more thoroughly this time through. (10)

Surviving Your First Year as Pastor by Angie Best-Boss. Especially because of my interest and work with pastoral transition, I really want to like a book like this. But perhaps because of my research in the area of transition, or maybe due to my prior experience in ministry, I found this book to be a disappointment. The coverage is good-- what she talks about is a comprehensive field of topics. But she doesn't present much here that is extraordinary, or that a fairly intuitive seminary graduate wouldn't already be looking for. The best thing about it is the suggested reading at the end of each chapter, which IS quite good. (5)

If It Could Happen Here... by Jeff Patton. This was a nice little book that did a good job of presenting familiar concepts in a new way. The sub-title, "Turning the Small-Membership Church Around," is a fair summary of the content. To a certain degree, if you've read on book on revitalizing small churches, then the concepts in the rest won't be fresh; it's the way they are presented or the additional information that makes them worthwhile. This book tells the story of one pastor and his work with one small congregation-- what they did, how and when they did it, what worked, what didn't. It's not written in a prescriptive way, but more like a memoir or brief history; thus, it's not overbearing, and it leaves the reader free to take what they want and leave the rest. Overall, it's a good read, and I found some useful material there-- especially the first-hand testimony of how effective certain aspects of revitalization can be. (8+)

The House that Jesus Built by Dale Ralph Davis. This one was sent to me in the mail yesterday, and it's a good little introduction to church membership. Davis covers essentially the same things that I would cover in a "new members' class" except, of course, details about the local congregation, and he does it in a very readable and digestible book. It's short (only about 60 pages), yet it touches on the materials in a good introductory manner-- leaving the explanation and expansion on his introduction to pastors and leaders in a congregation. I'm not sure whether I'll use this as required reading for an Introduction to Hickory Withe Church class next time, but it's certainly a good resource to put in the hands of those who miss a class or two. (10)

Eucharistic Bread-Baking as Ministry by Tony Begonja. Although this book was clearly written for more Catholic- (and by that I mean Roman Catholic) leaning churches, it still has obvious value to any church that observes the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Since I've been baking the bread for our congregation's sacrament, I've come to delight in serving my flock in this way; still, I wanted to learn more about the unleavened varieties of sacramental bread, since there is at least some question about using leavened bread. This book offered a good introduction to the spiritual approach to baking bread for sacramental purposes, and the writer showed good sensitivity to matters that might be more pointed in certain environs (like whether a recipe produced very crumbly bread, which might concern those who believe that the bread becomes the actual flesh of Christ!). I haven't tried the recipes yet, but there is good practical advice on baking, as well. Overall, I'm glad to have this one on-hand. (8+)

Tags: reading, Cultural Discernment

The Importance of the Local Church by Daniel Wray (re-read): This is one of the Banner of Truth Trust booklets, of which I am a big fan. Wray does a good job of capturing the essential need and value of the local church, which is a vital word for today when many Christians take church membership so lightly. (9+)

When Bad Christians Happen to Good People by Dave Burchett: The subtitle of this book summarizes it well: "where we have failed each other and how to reverse the damage." Burchett does a good job of highlighting a number of problems and failings with the church today; his assessment is fair and not mean-spirited, but neither is it a soft-sell. He also does a fair job of working on the how-tos of "reversing the damage" though this part left a bit to be desired. (I suspect he expands on it a bit in his follow-up book, Bring 'Em Back Alive.) Overall, a good book and worth reading. (8)

On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness by Andrew Peterson. I already offered my thoughts on this book in a previous post. (8)

Proper Confidence by Lesslie Newbigin. Probably one of the best books I've read in a while, this book is a good union of philosophy, theology, and basic, practical thinking about how a Christian finds confidence in what he/she believes. Newbigin does a great job of summarizing the influence of a few significant philosophers (Aristotle and Descartes, in particular) on how we think about truth, and demonstrates that we (in contemporary western culture) have in many ways abandoned a more biblical view of truth because of them. I thought the book was very helpful; others might find it a little dry, because of the discussion of philosophy, etc. It's not for everyone-- but it was certainly a good read for me. (9+)

Tags: reading, Cultural Discernment

UPDATE: I reposted this with the video embedded-- some of the feedback I got was that clicked through to another page was causing trouble. (Thanks to Eden Worship Center in Topeka, Indiana for the video montage you see.)

Tom Brady might be one of the greatest success stories of our day. (Okay, so he would be more of one if he had completed that perfect season a couple of weeks ago for his FOURTH Super Bowl victory...)

Yet, Tom Brady feels empty. In an interview just before the recent Super Bowl, Brady described his emptiness; watch the video.



My response when watching this video was: you're absolutely right! There IS something more to life than reaching record-breaking heights in the first few years of your career; there is something more than being considered one of the best-looking athletes around; there is something more than dating an international supermodel; there is something more than having all the money and fame you could ever ask for.

Oh, and by the way Tom: you don't need any of those things to obtain that thing, that "something more."

I hope you can see this as easily as I can: the "something more" that Tom is seeking is only found in Christ.

(ht: Fred Harrell & Big Hair Preacher)

Tags: love, Evangelism, Cultural Discernment, Faith & Life

Here's an overview of the books I finished in February, and my recommendations about them (including a ranking on a 1-to-10 scale).

How Your Church Family Works by Peter L. Steinke: This is a great book, though the audience for it is something of a niche. It's really a book for Pastors and maybe church leaders; I could see a Session reading through it together, if the Pastor did a fair amount of additional explanation and teaching. (But it would be a good exercise.) The book takes basic family systems theory, a valuable practice in individual counseling, and applies those concepts to congregations as a broader spiritual family system. If you loved the Marriage & Family Counseling class in seminary and learned a lot from your genogram, you will love this book. The first half is fairly dense with theory, but well-done and important; the second part, where he gets into the practical application, really soars. A very good book. (9)

The Challenge of Jesus by N. T. Wright (skim): Once I realized that this book was a summary/lay-level version of Jesus and the Victory of God, which I read in detail for seminary, I switched to "skim" mode and worked through it quickly. Both books are the fruit of Wright's participation in the so-called Third Quest, which has produced some quite useful (though sometimes controversial) materials about the historical Jesus. Wright is a thoughtful, smart fellow who has many helpful insights into Jesus' life and ministry. At the same time, Wright's work is frequently provocative (though less so in this book, as the theological themes are toned down a bit), and the focus of these books on (among other things) the life of Christ led many to believe he denied the resurrection (which he answered with the third book in the original series, The Resurrection and the Son of God). While this one is a good summary, it's still far from light reading, and I would recommend it mainly for those who have some theological reading under their belts, and who have honed their theological discernment a bit. (A qualified 7+/8)

Benedictions by Robert Vasholz: Here's another more esoteric read for many-- though Pastors (and seminarians) will love the accessibility of this tool. In a search through the whole of Scripture, Vasholz has identified 109 distinct benedictions, and formulated them into the sort of poetic pronouncement common at the end of a worship service. Vasholz also included a (very) brief history of the benediction in Christian worship, penned by his colleague at Covenant Seminary, Church Historian David Calhoun. This book is published as a reference for Pastors, and as such doesn't make for a great bedtime reader; nevertheless, I read through it (I really did-- I read every benediction) and I'm thrilled about the possibility of pronouncing a different benediction every week for two years. (9)

The Shadow of the Cross by Walter Chantry (re-read): I was given this little volume years ago by my friend Richard Burguet, and have re-read it several times. It's subtitle is "Studies in Self-Denial" and it was, in my early 20s, exactly the tempering approach to Christianity that I needed, brash and over-confident as I was. Now, in my mid-30s it still holds similar value, reminding me of my call to servanthood and selflessness in life, family, and ministry. While it's not a long book (79p.), it's not necessarily a quick read. Still, I don't have many books on my shelf that I try to make a point of re-reading every couple of years or so-- and thus I don't have many books on my shelf I would recommend as highly as I do this one. (9+/10)

Tags: Cultural Discernment, reading

This clip from NBC's E.R. perfectly illustrates the emptiness of believing in nothing much at all. In the end, the "hope" that comes from the warm, sweet, sentimental stuff of "whatever works for you" and "we're all just trying our best" is empty, shallow, and pretty hopeless. "Sometimes it's easier to feel guilty than forgiven" sounds great when the realities of eternity are distant and objective; when eternity is near, however, I would respond just as this man did: "what does that even mean?"

The work of the cross, though-- while difficult to face in its true, unvarnished reality-- is a work that offers substance when real hope is needed. When you're facing the hard facts of death, judgment, and condemnation, you need "someone who will look [you] in the eye and tell [you] how to find forgiveness."

The only hope-- the only answer to the question, "is atonement even possible? What does God want from me?"-- is the hope of the cross.

(ht: Ed Stetzer)

Tags: Systematic Theology, Faith & Life, Evangelism, Cultural Discernment

One of the controversies brewing in the ranks of the PCA is concerning a theological perspective now known as "Federal Vision". Many will be aware that the PCA's General Assembly appointed a study committee in 2006 to examine Federal Vision theology, and that committee returned in 2007 with their report which was received by the Assembly (though not without some controversy).

This issue is an incredibly difficult one to understand; this is partly because, until very recently, there has not been any clear statement of exactly what it means to adhere to a Federal Vision position-- and, in some people's view, the study committee report mentioned above did not solve this problem, because there were no members of the committee that actually held the position. Others claimed that the committee's report made equivocations between the Federal Vision and other controversial perspectives that are not necessarily associated with Federal Vision. Our own Covenant Presbytery recently bumped into this as an ordained PCA Pastor, in good standing with another presbytery, met significant resistance to his transfer into Covenant Presbytery because of his sympathy toward paedocommunion (offering the sacrament of the Lord's Supper to any baptized child of any age); there seemed to be some concern among a few members of presbytery that his sympathy toward the one (Paedocommunion) automatically cast him in the category of the other (Federal Vision sympathizers). (Thankfully, there has been a document released, called "A Joint Federal Vision Statement," that summarizes their perspective.)

But I digress. In a recent dialogue with others on the blog that a friend of mine writes, I learned a good deal about the structure of the arguments that the Federal Vision (or FV) proponents bring to the table. What I believe many do not realize is that they actually make TWO arguments:

First, they assert that the Westminster Confession of Faith, as helpful as it is, does not offer exhaustive definitions for the terms that it uses to categorize theological concepts. In other words, just as there are often several ways (or definitions) that a word may be used, though we only mean one of those at any particular moment-- so it is with theological terms. They claim that the Bible itself makes use of many terms in broader ways than the Westminster Confession does; thus, they say, the terminology of the Confession is useful, but it isn't exhaustive or comprehensive.

Second, they stipulate that there are other uses for certain terms, and that these other uses could (and, if they are correct, should) change the way that we understand things like church membership, practices of the sacraments, and even how we judge whether someone is justified before Christ.

It is the second argument that has gotten all of the press and attention-- but the first argument has mostly been ignored! This has led to inevitable confusion, because without the first argument then the FV proponents appear to be making all sorts of logical errors and fallacies (when, in fact, they are not).

As far as I have read and learned, I cannot agree with the FV positions on the second argument. However, as far as the first argument goes, I wholeheartedly agree. I love the Westminster Confession, and agree with it almost completely (and Covenant Presbytery has indicated that the ways that I disagree are not even substantial enough to be considered exceptions). But I do not believe it is a sufficient and comprehensive measure of truth; in fact, the Confession itself claims that it is not so. We need the Bible for many reasons-- and one of them is that it presents us with a richer, fuller sense of what theological concepts mean than what any systematic theology can offer.

Tags: Bible, Systematic Theology, Biblical Theology