Thursday, April 14, 2005
[@] Orthodoxy? Does it Matter? (1)
In my experience, it always comes back to this question: "Does Orthodoxy matter in the life of the Christian?" "It", in this case, is any discussion in which the name of Jesus Christ is used to advance an agenda.
Let me clear something up before I go on here: having an "agenda" is not a bad thing. Anyone who has ever been in a meeting knows that an agenda keeps the meeting from lasting forever and also keeps the meeting facing some goal. Listen: I know that a lot of people frequently use the word "agenda" to mean "an underlying often ideological plan or program", and intend it to imply some evil motive. I don't intend it that way. When I say, in this series, that someone has an agenda, simply read it to mean that I think this person does what they are doing intentionally. That is to say, they have thought about what they are doing and choose to do it for specific reasons.
God willing, we should all have an agenda. God willing, we all have the right agenda. Don't get all squirrelly because I say someone has an agenda.
So in any discussion where someone is using an agenda and part of that agenda is "Jesus Christ" -- either as an end or as a means -- I wonder if everyone considers the complex matter of Orthodoxy? I ask this because when this matter comes up, it seems like it always causes a wicked stir. For example, someone might say, "I admire the Pope as a Christian leader of historic proportions," and someone else might ask, "I am unaware that praying to Mary 'Possess my soul, Take over my entire personality and life, replace it with Yourself, Incline me to constant adoration, Pray in me and through me, Let me live in you and keep me in this union always,’ was actually 'Christian'. What do you mean by 'Christian'?"
Now think on this: it's not saying that this Pope did nothing of any geopolitical "good". The question being posed is one of orthodoxy, in the same way, for example, that the men at Nicea posed the question of orthodoxy to Arius. The question is not a matter of political usefulness or even humanitarian usefulness. The question is whether the Gospel is being preached when these things were done.
What I have read in the last week or so is this: apparently, that question is irrelevant -- or perhaps it is actually the wrong question to ask at all because of other mitigating factors. Some advocate that there is no right way to determine orthodoxy because of the state of the church; others advocate that the demand for orthodoxy is itself a flawed pursuit because it is abstracted from the good works in evidence. In that, we should be able to call John Paul II, and Bono, and Mother Theresa, and Johnny Cash, and the Apostle Paul all "heroes of the faith" because their work was done in some relationship to the name of Jesus.
Yet it never fails to upset the advocates of this position when one asks anyway, "well, I happen to personally know a fellow who spent 2 years in South America as a missionary building hospitals and teaching school to children -- but he was a missionary for the Latter Day Saints. Is he a Christian hero also?" After you sort through all the hyperbolic rhetoric that comes back, you find the retort, "oh heavens -- he's not even a Trinitarian. That's a stupid example." And that even coming from former Mormons who have rejected the LDS as a false gospel.
Somehow those who will reply in that way simply cannot see the matters of orthodoxy at stake. I would actually agree that being non-Trinitarian (like a one-ness advocate, or a Mormon) excludes one from Orthodoxy -- which is my point in asking the question. What it underscores, however, is the larger issue that the Trinity is not the only matter of orthodoxy. If one is outside the faith for rejecting the Trinity, can't one be outside the faith for adding Mary, de facto via prayers to her that ask her to do the work of the Holy Spirit, to the Trinity? What about worshipping the Eucharist as God? Or for that matter, what about changing Jesus' declaration "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except by me," to mean that anyone who says he worships the God of Abraham must by implication be brought there through Christ -- even if he explicitly rejects Christ? What if someone was doing all of the above?
All of these questions are matters of orthodoxy -- that is, matters of what is and is not "the Gospel", what is and is not the Good News of Jesus Christ. So if someone finds the cure for cancer and gives it away for free, and dies a beggar for doing so, he may have done something historically exceptional. If someone takes a high-profile stand that flies in the face of both Capitalism and Socialism but it is actually the right moral stand, Amen. But let's not confuse that with Christianity -- which is discipleship to Christ for the sake of the cross and the Gospel.
To be a disciple of Christ for the sake of the Cross and the Gospel means that we are actually referring to "Christ", "cross", and "Gospel" which are the ones which do all the cool things we say they do. If we say "cross" and we mean a piece of jewelry, or "Gospel" and we mean a kind of campy folk music, there is no question orthodoxy matters. But Orthodoxy does not lose its importance in the first standard deviation from truth, and in fact becomes more critical as we work out to 5 and 6 Sigma.
I'm not trying to draw a small circle here -- because, to belabor my 6-sigma analogy, the best quality system produces the most number of parts inside the 6-sigma quality set -- but to say that when we stop thinking about the nature of orthodoxy, we start walking away from it for no good reason. Yes: orthodoxy matters and it should matter all the time to you for your own sake.
Let me clear something up before I go on here: having an "agenda" is not a bad thing. Anyone who has ever been in a meeting knows that an agenda keeps the meeting from lasting forever and also keeps the meeting facing some goal. Listen: I know that a lot of people frequently use the word "agenda" to mean "an underlying often ideological plan or program", and intend it to imply some evil motive. I don't intend it that way. When I say, in this series, that someone has an agenda, simply read it to mean that I think this person does what they are doing intentionally. That is to say, they have thought about what they are doing and choose to do it for specific reasons.
God willing, we should all have an agenda. God willing, we all have the right agenda. Don't get all squirrelly because I say someone has an agenda.
So in any discussion where someone is using an agenda and part of that agenda is "Jesus Christ" -- either as an end or as a means -- I wonder if everyone considers the complex matter of Orthodoxy? I ask this because when this matter comes up, it seems like it always causes a wicked stir. For example, someone might say, "I admire the Pope as a Christian leader of historic proportions," and someone else might ask, "I am unaware that praying to Mary 'Possess my soul, Take over my entire personality and life, replace it with Yourself, Incline me to constant adoration, Pray in me and through me, Let me live in you and keep me in this union always,’ was actually 'Christian'. What do you mean by 'Christian'?"
Now think on this: it's not saying that this Pope did nothing of any geopolitical "good". The question being posed is one of orthodoxy, in the same way, for example, that the men at Nicea posed the question of orthodoxy to Arius. The question is not a matter of political usefulness or even humanitarian usefulness. The question is whether the Gospel is being preached when these things were done.
What I have read in the last week or so is this: apparently, that question is irrelevant -- or perhaps it is actually the wrong question to ask at all because of other mitigating factors. Some advocate that there is no right way to determine orthodoxy because of the state of the church; others advocate that the demand for orthodoxy is itself a flawed pursuit because it is abstracted from the good works in evidence. In that, we should be able to call John Paul II, and Bono, and Mother Theresa, and Johnny Cash, and the Apostle Paul all "heroes of the faith" because their work was done in some relationship to the name of Jesus.
Yet it never fails to upset the advocates of this position when one asks anyway, "well, I happen to personally know a fellow who spent 2 years in South America as a missionary building hospitals and teaching school to children -- but he was a missionary for the Latter Day Saints. Is he a Christian hero also?" After you sort through all the hyperbolic rhetoric that comes back, you find the retort, "oh heavens -- he's not even a Trinitarian. That's a stupid example." And that even coming from former Mormons who have rejected the LDS as a false gospel.
Somehow those who will reply in that way simply cannot see the matters of orthodoxy at stake. I would actually agree that being non-Trinitarian (like a one-ness advocate, or a Mormon) excludes one from Orthodoxy -- which is my point in asking the question. What it underscores, however, is the larger issue that the Trinity is not the only matter of orthodoxy. If one is outside the faith for rejecting the Trinity, can't one be outside the faith for adding Mary, de facto via prayers to her that ask her to do the work of the Holy Spirit, to the Trinity? What about worshipping the Eucharist as God? Or for that matter, what about changing Jesus' declaration "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except by me," to mean that anyone who says he worships the God of Abraham must by implication be brought there through Christ -- even if he explicitly rejects Christ? What if someone was doing all of the above?
All of these questions are matters of orthodoxy -- that is, matters of what is and is not "the Gospel", what is and is not the Good News of Jesus Christ. So if someone finds the cure for cancer and gives it away for free, and dies a beggar for doing so, he may have done something historically exceptional. If someone takes a high-profile stand that flies in the face of both Capitalism and Socialism but it is actually the right moral stand, Amen. But let's not confuse that with Christianity -- which is discipleship to Christ for the sake of the cross and the Gospel.
To be a disciple of Christ for the sake of the Cross and the Gospel means that we are actually referring to "Christ", "cross", and "Gospel" which are the ones which do all the cool things we say they do. If we say "cross" and we mean a piece of jewelry, or "Gospel" and we mean a kind of campy folk music, there is no question orthodoxy matters. But Orthodoxy does not lose its importance in the first standard deviation from truth, and in fact becomes more critical as we work out to 5 and 6 Sigma.
I'm not trying to draw a small circle here -- because, to belabor my 6-sigma analogy, the best quality system produces the most number of parts inside the 6-sigma quality set -- but to say that when we stop thinking about the nature of orthodoxy, we start walking away from it for no good reason. Yes: orthodoxy matters and it should matter all the time to you for your own sake.
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
[#] a different "wet" controversy
I was discussing the matter of baptism with a fellow last night and early this morning, and I thought my last post to him would be useful in the blogspace. I am sure that most of you know (or know about) Tim Enloe. Whatever you do in reading this post, please pray for his upcoming marriage and for his wife-to-be.
Tim said:
Tim said:
(A) I did say there is an objective basis for the salvation of the individual – however, I did not say that this "objective thing" was "the Gospel". As I wrote the 5-point outline of Dr. White’s position, I was thinking that the objective thing was Jesus Christ. The description of Jesus Christ and His work which we receive in Scripture would, technically, be "the Gospel". The basis of the Gospel is Jesus Christ. Because we are again splitting some fine theological hairs, I leave this open to Dr. White’s correction.
(B) In that situation, you might call baptism a "subjective" thing – but only in the sense that it is derivative of Jesus Christ. The text of the book of John (as an example) is also derivative of Jesus Christ. You might then call it a "subjective" thing, but it is subjective not because it can mean anything to anybody but because it requires a context for validity. Jesus Christ does not require a context but in fact provides the context for all things.
That all said, Baptism may be a "subjective" thing – but it is not a meaningless thing. I think you here make the kind of mistake that you say the folks in my camp make all the time – which is to be trapped in the paradigm "Objective=good, subjective=pomo/bad".
Tim said:
For you, it is "church" in the sense of all the people baptized into the covenant, without regard to the kind of leadership that particular body might have – which is an effort in itself to avoid the docetist error, yes? The effectiveness of the sacrament does not rely on the moral purity of the provider of the sacrament? If that’s the case, there is a very hard problem that the Mormon may actually have a valid baptism – because even though the baptizer says that God is a spiritually-evolved man and Christ is the same thing, he baptizes into Jesus Christ.
Of course, the right objection to this comment is, "they are baptizing into the wrong Christ, Frank." And I would agree with you: the Mormon baptism is not a baptism at all because it baptizes into some other creature besides Christ.
And that leads to the place where Dr. White and Pastor Wilson got to last fall: do Catholics baptize into Christ or not, and is baptism credo or paedo? Tim: the only way we can know into whom the Catholic baptize is by reading what they teach – just like with the Mormon. And if the Catholic doctrines of Christ and Mary have corrupted Christology (I suggest you read CCC sections 963-970 for quite the eyeful), then they do not have a valid basis for baptizing in the same way that the Mormon does not have a valid basis for baptizing.
So whether credo or paedo is valid, the essential question is "what kind of church can validly baptize?" It is certainly a matter of context, and in that respect it is certainly subjective, which is to say derivative of the objective basis for salvation.
Tim said:
You can’t find it in his work. It doesn’t exist. And here’s what’s most important about that: while you have inferred this conclusion from his premises, you have made an error in the use of the word "subjective" in doing so. "Subjective" can certainly mean "having no fixed basis", but it can also mean "having only a relative basis; being something which is not meaningful without context". It is only in that sense that "subjective" can be used to describe the Baptist view which Dr. White advocates.
Tim said:
OIC, Paul mentioned White and Svendsen. But you didn't, and neither did I.Dr. Owen’s context is, as is his method of operation, to position himself against "Baptists" in general and Dr. White in particular. "His position", which you refer to, is made plain over against the position Drs. White and Svendsen advocate by his own words. They are part of the discussion as context – a context Dr. Owen selected.
Tim said:
The way you {lined out White’s view}, if it correctly describes his view, means that Baptism can only be a subjective thing, and that it can only get its validity from the objective thing, namely, to borrow from you, "the Gospel" defined in the explicitly propositional manner that you mentioned and lacking any serious practical distortions such as the ones you mentioned.I give you credit for always saying things in a way that makes me engage the brain before trying to reply. I’d offer the following two points in reply:
(A) I did say there is an objective basis for the salvation of the individual – however, I did not say that this "objective thing" was "the Gospel". As I wrote the 5-point outline of Dr. White’s position, I was thinking that the objective thing was Jesus Christ. The description of Jesus Christ and His work which we receive in Scripture would, technically, be "the Gospel". The basis of the Gospel is Jesus Christ. Because we are again splitting some fine theological hairs, I leave this open to Dr. White’s correction.
(B) In that situation, you might call baptism a "subjective" thing – but only in the sense that it is derivative of Jesus Christ. The text of the book of John (as an example) is also derivative of Jesus Christ. You might then call it a "subjective" thing, but it is subjective not because it can mean anything to anybody but because it requires a context for validity. Jesus Christ does not require a context but in fact provides the context for all things.
That all said, Baptism may be a "subjective" thing – but it is not a meaningless thing. I think you here make the kind of mistake that you say the folks in my camp make all the time – which is to be trapped in the paradigm "Objective=good, subjective=pomo/bad".
Tim said:
Hence, the reason White so strenuously denies the validity of RC baptism is because the RCC "denies the Gospel", and thus, has merely a subjective ritual that means nothing in any meaningful "Christian" sense.Does a baptism on a movie set for the movie narrative count, Tim? What if the person doing the baptizing is himself a right-minded trinitarian? That’s a great example of the fact that even in your view, baptism itself requires a specific context to be valid – that it is derivative of a context. The only question is "which context"?
For you, it is "church" in the sense of all the people baptized into the covenant, without regard to the kind of leadership that particular body might have – which is an effort in itself to avoid the docetist error, yes? The effectiveness of the sacrament does not rely on the moral purity of the provider of the sacrament? If that’s the case, there is a very hard problem that the Mormon may actually have a valid baptism – because even though the baptizer says that God is a spiritually-evolved man and Christ is the same thing, he baptizes into Jesus Christ.
Of course, the right objection to this comment is, "they are baptizing into the wrong Christ, Frank." And I would agree with you: the Mormon baptism is not a baptism at all because it baptizes into some other creature besides Christ.
And that leads to the place where Dr. White and Pastor Wilson got to last fall: do Catholics baptize into Christ or not, and is baptism credo or paedo? Tim: the only way we can know into whom the Catholic baptize is by reading what they teach – just like with the Mormon. And if the Catholic doctrines of Christ and Mary have corrupted Christology (I suggest you read CCC sections 963-970 for quite the eyeful), then they do not have a valid basis for baptizing in the same way that the Mormon does not have a valid basis for baptizing.
So whether credo or paedo is valid, the essential question is "what kind of church can validly baptize?" It is certainly a matter of context, and in that respect it is certainly subjective, which is to say derivative of the objective basis for salvation.
Tim said:
If you've described his view correctly, then I think my statement which you questioned would be an accurate inference from his view. But perhaps he'd like to challenge that.This is the most important part of this reply, Tim: it may be a logically-valid inference, but it is not one which Dr. White either endorses or countenances. It is impossible to find him musing or considering that Baptism is "meaningless" unless he says "meaningless without the Gospel of Jesus Christ" or "meaningless without faith", which is exactly the same position Calvin took.
You can’t find it in his work. It doesn’t exist. And here’s what’s most important about that: while you have inferred this conclusion from his premises, you have made an error in the use of the word "subjective" in doing so. "Subjective" can certainly mean "having no fixed basis", but it can also mean "having only a relative basis; being something which is not meaningful without context". It is only in that sense that "subjective" can be used to describe the Baptist view which Dr. White advocates.
Monday, April 11, 2005
[?] Substanceless entry from the Weekend (2)
Man. I didn’t realize I was such an addictive personality. That’s wrong.
Not as wrong, however, as the video in the Alpha Omega Publications booth. (no relationship to James White, even though they publish from Arizona and are allegedly Christian publishers; I haven’t carded their doctrines of justification or their enslavement to modernity yet, so as an upstanding Baptist I reserve the right to revise my remarks)
They are pushing this new video set by Thomas Wretched Kinkade for art instruction. You have to understand something: I grew up watching that German guy on PBS rendering oil paintings until Bob Ross took over, at which point the 70’s neo-taoist serenity drove me to atheism and alcohol. (oh wait: that was Catholicism; Bob Ross was really funny to watch drunk, and even better to watch hung-over – and for the kids at home, that’s sinful so avoid Bob Ross) So I have seen hours of “technique” lectures by the most dreary, artless droners-on in the history of the planet. I have a point of reference.
I’ll hand it to Kinkade: he has good presentation skills. Conversational delivery; good modulation; he mixes up the tempo. The problem is the topic. Roosters and dragons? How many Kinkade paintings have roosters and dragons in them? It’s like the worst false appeal to authority ever. He might as well be lecturing on comic book art – which is something I’d enjoy as a premise, but what’s he know about it? Can anyone imagine the FF or Captain America rendered by Kinkade? Please: don’t make me sick.
Part of my problem may be that at my “day job”, Kinkade is a premium product line that requires a lot of attention, and frankly I don’t get it. Kinkade? ANOTHER house? Another HOUSE? ANOTHER HOUSE? Hey: you can only say it 3 different ways without switching languages . C’mon: it’s the kind of art that sells at those “starving artists” sales at the Holiday Inn. The Dogs playing Poker on Velvet makes a LOT more sense to me than Kinkade. Kinkade … geez, there’s just nothing there.
It’s like listening to Howard Dean lecture on subtle rhetoric. Who can believe it?
I was going to riff on Homeschool kids, too, but somebody might read this blog and put 2-and-2 together and that’d be the end of my poor little bookstore. “Kingdom Bound? That’s the bookstore run by the guy who called my kid a monkey on his blog. I’m not going to shop there.” And no, your kid is not a monkey. You don’t even believe in evolution, so what exactly are you getting so upset about?
Not as wrong, however, as the video in the Alpha Omega Publications booth. (no relationship to James White, even though they publish from Arizona and are allegedly Christian publishers; I haven’t carded their doctrines of justification or their enslavement to modernity yet, so as an upstanding Baptist I reserve the right to revise my remarks)
They are pushing this new video set by Thomas Wretched Kinkade for art instruction. You have to understand something: I grew up watching that German guy on PBS rendering oil paintings until Bob Ross took over, at which point the 70’s neo-taoist serenity drove me to atheism and alcohol. (oh wait: that was Catholicism; Bob Ross was really funny to watch drunk, and even better to watch hung-over – and for the kids at home, that’s sinful so avoid Bob Ross) So I have seen hours of “technique” lectures by the most dreary, artless droners-on in the history of the planet. I have a point of reference.
I’ll hand it to Kinkade: he has good presentation skills. Conversational delivery; good modulation; he mixes up the tempo. The problem is the topic. Roosters and dragons? How many Kinkade paintings have roosters and dragons in them? It’s like the worst false appeal to authority ever. He might as well be lecturing on comic book art – which is something I’d enjoy as a premise, but what’s he know about it? Can anyone imagine the FF or Captain America rendered by Kinkade? Please: don’t make me sick.
Part of my problem may be that at my “day job”, Kinkade is a premium product line that requires a lot of attention, and frankly I don’t get it. Kinkade? ANOTHER house? Another HOUSE? ANOTHER HOUSE? Hey: you can only say it 3 different ways without switching languages . C’mon: it’s the kind of art that sells at those “starving artists” sales at the Holiday Inn. The Dogs playing Poker on Velvet makes a LOT more sense to me than Kinkade. Kinkade … geez, there’s just nothing there.
It’s like listening to Howard Dean lecture on subtle rhetoric. Who can believe it?
I was going to riff on Homeschool kids, too, but somebody might read this blog and put 2-and-2 together and that’d be the end of my poor little bookstore. “Kingdom Bound? That’s the bookstore run by the guy who called my kid a monkey on his blog. I’m not going to shop there.” And no, your kid is not a monkey. You don’t even believe in evolution, so what exactly are you getting so upset about?
[?] Worthless Entry from the weekend (1)
I think I have a problem …
See: I’m at a homeschool curriculum sale right now, and I’m selling a LOT of stuff – so far, I have WAY more transactions than last year – like 10 times more. I attribute it to marketing genius, but the reality is that I pwn’d the other store that carries our homeschool catalog by getting one of three booths immediately behind the registration desk. For them that’s a really bad thing because the other real coup this year was that the curriculum fair is taking place at a church 2500 feet from my store, and everyone who comes to the fair had to drive past my billboard-like store front on their way in, realizing that they can get the stuff they’ve been mail-ordering from him right here from me. Christian love and all that, but trinkets is trinkets.
So we’re killing here, and I am inhumanely busy – in part because of all the people, in part because I’m using a home-made cash register (read: EXCEL spreadsheet and inkjet printer) that is slowing down the cashout (still have to record everything we sell, but there’s no scan gun), in part because I’m having to phone in all my CC transactions, but in part because …
… I can’t help myself. I have to blog. I think about my blog all the time. I think about the things I can say about Locke’s failure to stay inside Christian metaphysical premises that bankrupt his epistemological conclusions; I think about cryptic things I can say so the readers from #prosapologian will get a laugh (like this: the guy in the booth next to me is like the evil eugenics experimental cross between ENielsen and unicalman: 50 kids, a complete tech geek, looks like a bodyguard in a suit, and has a beautiful singing voice); I think about what I am missing in the blogosphere – what controversies, what silly things … I think about what Art Sippo is not going to say in response to my posts at Envoy’s forums. I think about how a church the size of the one we’re having this little educational opportunity at that is attempting to appeal to the “emergent” thing does not have wireless service – I mean, how relevant is that?
But here’s the really sick thing: I’m ignoring customers to blog today (Friday), even though I can’t post this until Sunday or Monday. Is that really a good idea? I mean, on the one hand, you all know how important you are to me. If I stop posting, won’t the hits to the site go down? Stats anyone?
On the other hand, feed the kids much, Dad? Responsible adult? I’m sick! I’d rather blog than sell books? When did that happen?
Is there a 12-step program? How often does it update? Is it hosted by blogger.com (read: I am SO SICK of the bottle neck at blogger between 2 PM and 6 PM CT, without any regard for the kind of obviously-cheap jerk it makes me to be mad at them for not giving a hoot about the bandwidth problems of the unpaid plebians), or is it hosted by a paid service? Do I have to pay for the treatment – because you know exactly how much I’m willing to pay for that kind of thing – or is it sponsored by a church so I can do 40 days of recovery?
Man. I didn’t realize I was such an addictive personality. That’s wrong.
See: I’m at a homeschool curriculum sale right now, and I’m selling a LOT of stuff – so far, I have WAY more transactions than last year – like 10 times more. I attribute it to marketing genius, but the reality is that I pwn’d the other store that carries our homeschool catalog by getting one of three booths immediately behind the registration desk. For them that’s a really bad thing because the other real coup this year was that the curriculum fair is taking place at a church 2500 feet from my store, and everyone who comes to the fair had to drive past my billboard-like store front on their way in, realizing that they can get the stuff they’ve been mail-ordering from him right here from me. Christian love and all that, but trinkets is trinkets.
So we’re killing here, and I am inhumanely busy – in part because of all the people, in part because I’m using a home-made cash register (read: EXCEL spreadsheet and inkjet printer) that is slowing down the cashout (still have to record everything we sell, but there’s no scan gun), in part because I’m having to phone in all my CC transactions, but in part because …
… I can’t help myself. I have to blog. I think about my blog all the time. I think about the things I can say about Locke’s failure to stay inside Christian metaphysical premises that bankrupt his epistemological conclusions; I think about cryptic things I can say so the readers from #prosapologian will get a laugh (like this: the guy in the booth next to me is like the evil eugenics experimental cross between ENielsen and unicalman: 50 kids, a complete tech geek, looks like a bodyguard in a suit, and has a beautiful singing voice); I think about what I am missing in the blogosphere – what controversies, what silly things … I think about what Art Sippo is not going to say in response to my posts at Envoy’s forums. I think about how a church the size of the one we’re having this little educational opportunity at that is attempting to appeal to the “emergent” thing does not have wireless service – I mean, how relevant is that?
But here’s the really sick thing: I’m ignoring customers to blog today (Friday), even though I can’t post this until Sunday or Monday. Is that really a good idea? I mean, on the one hand, you all know how important you are to me. If I stop posting, won’t the hits to the site go down? Stats anyone?
On the other hand, feed the kids much, Dad? Responsible adult? I’m sick! I’d rather blog than sell books? When did that happen?
Is there a 12-step program? How often does it update? Is it hosted by blogger.com (read: I am SO SICK of the bottle neck at blogger between 2 PM and 6 PM CT, without any regard for the kind of obviously-cheap jerk it makes me to be mad at them for not giving a hoot about the bandwidth problems of the unpaid plebians), or is it hosted by a paid service? Do I have to pay for the treatment – because you know exactly how much I’m willing to pay for that kind of thing – or is it sponsored by a church so I can do 40 days of recovery?
Man. I didn’t realize I was such an addictive personality. That’s wrong.
[$] Substanceless Monday Post
There is nothing worse than 5 days off from blogging and not having a thing to say except, "MY BACK IS KILLING ME!"
I actually have a series of posts which are non-theological in nature about this weekend, but I can't get my laptop to dock at work. That, and the fact that Blogger is now on my list of things to revile, is leaving me without a decent Monday Blog.
So how about this: I am off to the Chiro-practicioner this afternoon to hear him spout more info-mercial pseudo-science about my high cholesterol and my aching spine. If he didn't have that little machine which feels like fingers of iron in a velvet glove that works the tension out of the L5 region of my lower back, I'd never go back there.
I don't really mind dropping $50 for a great lower-back massage: I just hate listening to him blather on. Hey "Doc": you really think that I should stop taking the Lipitor in favor of megadoses of B-complex? Can I get that in writing so when I drop dead at 50 from clogged arteries my wife get all the money I have given you back?
No? OK: then just plug in the electro-back-fixer-upper and let me get back to work safely and in less pain.
UPDATED: It is definitely worth the $50 when he doesn't assail me with alternative medicine. Today he just plugged me in and went out until the timer "ding'd". Maybe he's reading my blog and got the message -- so Blogger actually wins points today. Thanks Blogger!
I actually have a series of posts which are non-theological in nature about this weekend, but I can't get my laptop to dock at work. That, and the fact that Blogger is now on my list of things to revile, is leaving me without a decent Monday Blog.
So how about this: I am off to the Chiro-practicioner this afternoon to hear him spout more info-mercial pseudo-science about my high cholesterol and my aching spine. If he didn't have that little machine which feels like fingers of iron in a velvet glove that works the tension out of the L5 region of my lower back, I'd never go back there.
I don't really mind dropping $50 for a great lower-back massage: I just hate listening to him blather on. Hey "Doc": you really think that I should stop taking the Lipitor in favor of megadoses of B-complex? Can I get that in writing so when I drop dead at 50 from clogged arteries my wife get all the money I have given you back?
No? OK: then just plug in the electro-back-fixer-upper and let me get back to work safely and in less pain.
UPDATED: It is definitely worth the $50 when he doesn't assail me with alternative medicine. Today he just plugged me in and went out until the timer "ding'd". Maybe he's reading my blog and got the message -- so Blogger actually wins points today. Thanks Blogger!
Thursday, April 07, 2005
[?] I'm Hit! I'm Hit!
What I'm hit by is the number of hits the blog is getting. I'm pleased some people find it useful, or entertaining, or whatever.
I am also upgrading the look of the blog with some minor tweaks -- like the "blockquote" design for the sake of people who have not updated their glasses' 'scrip'.
I am refreshing my reading of Locke for the sake of answering the question, "Did Locke maintain christian presuppositions", and I am also reading a book about the critical practice of Jesus to the OT Scriptures from an orthodox Jew. So lots of love coming in the near future.
If I don't post anything in the next few days, it is because I have a Homeschool curriculum sale I have to man for the bookstore. I haven't forgotten about you -- I just have to feed my kids.
I am also upgrading the look of the blog with some minor tweaks -- like the "blockquote" design for the sake of people who have not updated their glasses' 'scrip'.
I am refreshing my reading of Locke for the sake of answering the question, "Did Locke maintain christian presuppositions", and I am also reading a book about the critical practice of Jesus to the OT Scriptures from an orthodox Jew. So lots of love coming in the near future.
If I don't post anything in the next few days, it is because I have a Homeschool curriculum sale I have to man for the bookstore. I haven't forgotten about you -- I just have to feed my kids.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
[#] A Merciless Beating ( ? ? ? )
I came across this statement on the comments of a blog whose name must not be spoken:
Now here's what I have no intention of doing: I have no intention of paging through thousands of leaves of reformation treatises to find all the places where guys like Luther, Knox, Calvin, Zwingli, and all the rest were spending time "mercilessly beating other image bearers" over "Doctrinal Propositions". That's a futile piece of work becuase it doesn't matter how many citations one provides, one is always subject to the great contextual retort: "you are trapped in your ignorance of modernity".
So what's the right response? Ignore such a thing? Go out and research the fact that everyone I know who has taken the stand that John Paul II was, in the best case, totally devoted to Mary also noted that he was also one of the most influential political figures in 20th century history? Why bother with that either -- because apparently unless one says he was a "Christian political leader", one is a bigot or some kind of intellectual ruffian who hands out "mericless beatings".
So here's my take on the matter of "mercilessly beating other image bearers" with "doctrinal propositions", and whether that is "close to the position and spirit of the Protestant Reformers". I have a citation from the person who penned those words on the matter of what happened to the Protestants, and what they themselves did with that action:
What is remarkable about this statement is that, in the first place, it is not even "cold" in terms of when it was authored -- the writer dropped it into the bandwidth last week. In the second place, it makes a confession that cannot be reconciled against the accusation being made this week: the Protestant reformers were, in that author's opinion, "radically unjustly accused" by "a bunch of hothead radicals". What he is saying is that there is no way to justify what was said at Trent in the context it was said, and that those who recognized they were being treated wrongly had a "radically" just case to offer in objection. In that, the essential separation between Rome and the Protestant advocates is clear: the latter is crying out against the injustice of the former, and the former is having none of it.
In that, there is no "merciless beating" coming forth -- unless one looks at the rhetoric coming from (who could guess it?) the folks who hold up Trent as infallible and binding. Go ahead and call this polemicizing. The problem is that it comes from the exact "position and spirt" of the Protestant reformers -- which is the spirit of men who were radically betrayed by Rome.
The stark insensitivity to basic human compassion that is produced by this utterly radicalized "timeless truth" version of justification by faith alone, where "Good News" supposedly consists of mercilessly beating other image-bearers over the head with abstract, impersonal Doctrinal Propositions and congratulating oneselves for superior fidelity to "Truth", is not even remotely close to the position and spirit of the Protestant Reformers. Combined with a failure to appreciate the very good things that John Paul II did—things which only someone in the pope's position of cultural visibility could have accomplished—it is a gross discredit to the Protestant cause today. {Emph added}
Now here's what I have no intention of doing: I have no intention of paging through thousands of leaves of reformation treatises to find all the places where guys like Luther, Knox, Calvin, Zwingli, and all the rest were spending time "mercilessly beating other image bearers" over "Doctrinal Propositions". That's a futile piece of work becuase it doesn't matter how many citations one provides, one is always subject to the great contextual retort: "you are trapped in your ignorance of modernity".
So what's the right response? Ignore such a thing? Go out and research the fact that everyone I know who has taken the stand that John Paul II was, in the best case, totally devoted to Mary also noted that he was also one of the most influential political figures in 20th century history? Why bother with that either -- because apparently unless one says he was a "Christian political leader", one is a bigot or some kind of intellectual ruffian who hands out "mericless beatings".
So here's my take on the matter of "mercilessly beating other image bearers" with "doctrinal propositions", and whether that is "close to the position and spirit of the Protestant Reformers". I have a citation from the person who penned those words on the matter of what happened to the Protestants, and what they themselves did with that action:
I think that we need a new Council to revisit the issues that are in dispute between Rome and the Reformation--a Council made up not mostly of a bunch of hotheaded radicals (Trent) who in turn are viciously excoriated by their radically unjustly accused victims (the Reformers) so that a great big huge cycle of Mutually Assured Destruction gets started again, but instead a Council made up of calmer folks from both sides, folks dedicated to not automatically thinking the worst of each other and commited to actually hammering out an agreement, if possible, that each will pledge to live by. This doesn't fit the typical war-monger approach of either side, obviously, but look where the war-mongers have gotten us. Maybe it's time to put them out to pasture and let cooler heads prevail.
What is remarkable about this statement is that, in the first place, it is not even "cold" in terms of when it was authored -- the writer dropped it into the bandwidth last week. In the second place, it makes a confession that cannot be reconciled against the accusation being made this week: the Protestant reformers were, in that author's opinion, "radically unjustly accused" by "a bunch of hothead radicals". What he is saying is that there is no way to justify what was said at Trent in the context it was said, and that those who recognized they were being treated wrongly had a "radically" just case to offer in objection. In that, the essential separation between Rome and the Protestant advocates is clear: the latter is crying out against the injustice of the former, and the former is having none of it.
In that, there is no "merciless beating" coming forth -- unless one looks at the rhetoric coming from (who could guess it?) the folks who hold up Trent as infallible and binding. Go ahead and call this polemicizing. The problem is that it comes from the exact "position and spirt" of the Protestant reformers -- which is the spirit of men who were radically betrayed by Rome.
[*] 3 of 3: Who was Jesus?
The series got interrupted by the death of the Roman Catholic Pope, and the irony, I think, is that the controversies that are in evidence in the blogosphere and also in the forum-o-sphere over John Paul II are directly related to this question of "who was Jesus?" The amusing part of the controversies, really, is that those who are banning dissenting voices and shutting down their forums are the ones accusing others of "hatred" -- when there's nothing hateful about pointing out matters of historical fact.
And that's Wright's overall point in "Who was Jesus?", isn't it. The matters of historical fact ought to be the trusted ally of the person faithful in Christ. But those matters of fact, in Wright's summary of what we can know about this Jesus, are something played on a very grand scale. He says:
But is that the implication Wright is making here? He may make it elsewhere, but not at all in this place -- because Wright's point ultimately is that the Jewishness of Jesus advanced something he calls "double revolution". Here he does not draw out the conclusion that this or that soteriological doctrine has contextual problems, but instead points out that radical redefinitions of Jesus have problems in the context of the historical setting.
Let me be clear here that I am sure none of the advocates that I list in my links "for reference only" are advocates of radical redefinitions of Christ in the sense of the three "popular" revisionist histories Wright refutes in this book. Whatever problems I have with them, it is not that I think they trash Jesus personally or christologically.
That said, Wright is pointing out that the facts surrounding the person of Jesus indicate that he intended to do, and ultimately accomplished what he intended, something which was not only radical and world-changing externally (in fulfillment of the Jewish expectations), but also internally, so as to overturn the expectations that the Jews themselves had regarding their own slice of the pie, so to speak.
There are dramatic implications to this perspective on the historical Jesus -- and one of them relates to a topic near and dear to my theological heart: semper reformata. The Jesus who was working to overturn the external forces of oppression of the Jewish people (summarized in the slogan, "There is no King but God" -- which, ironically, is not a slogan of Jesus) was also the Jesus who was working to overturn the internal forces of Jewish culture (which certainly would have set all other nations as second class) by doing something which would (apparently) draw all men to himself. That is to say, as much as Jesus was working to liberate the Jews from Roman transgressions, he was also working to liberate the Jews from the notion that God was only for them.
Some may say to that: Huh! Antisemitism! To those I say: read Wright's book rather than rail on about my summary.
Others will say: what does that have to do with "semper reformata"? It has everything to do with the idea of the church always being vigilant to reform itself. In the first place, Jesus' view of His work was not monochromatically "theological" in the sense that it fulfilled certain propositions related to beliefs about God. Jesus saw His work as historical in the sense that is was action inside history and time. It was work that was intended to be done in the (excuse the modernity) metanarrative of God's plan for the world -- that is, the larger "societas". But it was also work done explicitly for the sake of the nation of Israel -- which is to say, for the sake of the particular "societas".
In the second place, inside that more particular work, the question for us as Christians reading Wright -- and we cannot stop at this text if we are to search out Wright's broader themes -- is what kind of work was Jesus doing in particular? Was it merely reconciliation of Jew to Gentile through an act of social revolt? How can we say that when a central matter for Wright is that the tomb was empty -- that Jesus actually conquered death? At the same time, can we limit or over-emphasize the empty tomb strictly to the work of mending the relationship of God and man, making the resurrection consequential in temporal matters, but overwhelming those with the eternal significance of that one sacrifice that perfects for all time? How is that right when Jesus consistently preached a Kingdom of the here and now, a Kingdom which had immediate consequences for a man and his neighbor?
I think one clear implication of Wright's short work is that the matter of Christ in society is a matter of complete and radically immediate reform -- that no societal construct is itself sacrosanct. Rome was certainly not Jesus' idea of a finished, God-centered society; it turns out, however, that neither was Israel. If that is the case, why should we assume that the society formed by the first generation of followers of Christ was itself sacrosanct? Or the society formed as the generations progressed? Why would the society in the 4th century be exempt from reform? Or the 8th? Or the 12th? Or the 16th? Or the 21st?
I do not have the rest of Wright's "stuff" yet, so we're not done with him. I agree that Christ is the one who changes the whole world, but I think the matter really comes down to "to what end?" and "by what means?" This will be an on-going topic on this blog because it seems to be important for some of the dissenting voices one encounters.
And that's Wright's overall point in "Who was Jesus?", isn't it. The matters of historical fact ought to be the trusted ally of the person faithful in Christ. But those matters of fact, in Wright's summary of what we can know about this Jesus, are something played on a very grand scale. He says:
- The strange thing about Jesus' announcement of the Kingdom of God was that he managed both to claim that he was fulfilling the old prophecies, the old hopes, of Israel and to do so in a way which radically subverted them. The Kingdom of God is here, he seemed to be saying, but it's not like you thought it was going to be. (98)
But is that the implication Wright is making here? He may make it elsewhere, but not at all in this place -- because Wright's point ultimately is that the Jewishness of Jesus advanced something he calls "double revolution". Here he does not draw out the conclusion that this or that soteriological doctrine has contextual problems, but instead points out that radical redefinitions of Jesus have problems in the context of the historical setting.
Let me be clear here that I am sure none of the advocates that I list in my links "for reference only" are advocates of radical redefinitions of Christ in the sense of the three "popular" revisionist histories Wright refutes in this book. Whatever problems I have with them, it is not that I think they trash Jesus personally or christologically.
That said, Wright is pointing out that the facts surrounding the person of Jesus indicate that he intended to do, and ultimately accomplished what he intended, something which was not only radical and world-changing externally (in fulfillment of the Jewish expectations), but also internally, so as to overturn the expectations that the Jews themselves had regarding their own slice of the pie, so to speak.
There are dramatic implications to this perspective on the historical Jesus -- and one of them relates to a topic near and dear to my theological heart: semper reformata. The Jesus who was working to overturn the external forces of oppression of the Jewish people (summarized in the slogan, "There is no King but God" -- which, ironically, is not a slogan of Jesus) was also the Jesus who was working to overturn the internal forces of Jewish culture (which certainly would have set all other nations as second class) by doing something which would (apparently) draw all men to himself. That is to say, as much as Jesus was working to liberate the Jews from Roman transgressions, he was also working to liberate the Jews from the notion that God was only for them.
Some may say to that: Huh! Antisemitism! To those I say: read Wright's book rather than rail on about my summary.
Others will say: what does that have to do with "semper reformata"? It has everything to do with the idea of the church always being vigilant to reform itself. In the first place, Jesus' view of His work was not monochromatically "theological" in the sense that it fulfilled certain propositions related to beliefs about God. Jesus saw His work as historical in the sense that is was action inside history and time. It was work that was intended to be done in the (excuse the modernity) metanarrative of God's plan for the world -- that is, the larger "societas". But it was also work done explicitly for the sake of the nation of Israel -- which is to say, for the sake of the particular "societas".
In the second place, inside that more particular work, the question for us as Christians reading Wright -- and we cannot stop at this text if we are to search out Wright's broader themes -- is what kind of work was Jesus doing in particular? Was it merely reconciliation of Jew to Gentile through an act of social revolt? How can we say that when a central matter for Wright is that the tomb was empty -- that Jesus actually conquered death? At the same time, can we limit or over-emphasize the empty tomb strictly to the work of mending the relationship of God and man, making the resurrection consequential in temporal matters, but overwhelming those with the eternal significance of that one sacrifice that perfects for all time? How is that right when Jesus consistently preached a Kingdom of the here and now, a Kingdom which had immediate consequences for a man and his neighbor?
I think one clear implication of Wright's short work is that the matter of Christ in society is a matter of complete and radically immediate reform -- that no societal construct is itself sacrosanct. Rome was certainly not Jesus' idea of a finished, God-centered society; it turns out, however, that neither was Israel. If that is the case, why should we assume that the society formed by the first generation of followers of Christ was itself sacrosanct? Or the society formed as the generations progressed? Why would the society in the 4th century be exempt from reform? Or the 8th? Or the 12th? Or the 16th? Or the 21st?
I do not have the rest of Wright's "stuff" yet, so we're not done with him. I agree that Christ is the one who changes the whole world, but I think the matter really comes down to "to what end?" and "by what means?" This will be an on-going topic on this blog because it seems to be important for some of the dissenting voices one encounters.
Monday, April 04, 2005
[#] The matter of Authority (3 Q's)
- OK: you and I can agree that the Faith – which is to say, the common ground upon which the church rests; the basis for the great cloud of witnesses – is not idiosyncratically subjective and does not manifest itself uniquely every time someone receives the second birth.
Yet, you and I still disagree (I think). Here are questions that indicate why:
(1) If we admit that the ordinary method of resolution is conciliar, on what basis are you and I (neither of us are ministers in the sense the WCF uses, yes?) valid advocates for either side of a doctrinal debate?
I never claimed to be a minister. I'm talking as a layman, and mostly to other laymen. I do think that laymen should have some kind of representation in Church councils--that was one thing that was heavily debated in some of the fifteenth century councils, and throughout the fifteenth and into the Reformation period it helped give rise to what I think has to be called a true recovery of the biblical doctrine of the "priesthood of all believers" as over against the essentially Gospel-denying "special ontological caste" notion of priesthood, or even the more general notion that only special "doctors" have any right to speak on disputed issues. As an individual, I don't have the right to speak ministerially for the Church, but that doesn't entail that all I can do is simply be a cog in a machine, either.OK: that doesn’t answer the question, but I’ll admit to fallibility in the asking of the question. In this discussion, which is not just between you and I but between larger parties of advocates, who cares what you think or what I think? For example, what right or basis does Perry have to call anyone a “Gnostic”? If I agree that the problem is not either “he’s a magisterial advocate” or “he’s just some loudmouth” (sorry, Perry), I want you to define for this discussion on what basis you or I or Perry are more than clanging gongs.
Keep this in mind: if your answer is “priesthood of the believer”, superficially we agree. But I think it needs more fleshing out. I don’t think you and I are saying the same thing when we say those words, and if we are, you have some explaining to do (for my sake) in your views below.
- (2) Let’s accept for a second the premise that you and Pastor Wilson put forward – that all those who have Trinitarian baptism are rightly named inside the covenant. That is, they will know we are Christians by our baptism. Given that the WCF does not anathematize anybody, but Trent does, on what basis should I (the individual believer) be convinced that the WCF offers a valid correction of Trent so that I may personally follow the magisterial authority which represents the church?
What an incredibly complicated question.Yes. I knew that when I asked it, and I appreciate you seeing the complexity.
The major problem with this is that it simply repeats standard Protestant polemicizing about the Council of Trent --What I do not appreciate is being labeled (again) as “polemicizing” about Trent. My question was not “why was Trent bad and the WCF good?” My question was that we have two statements of conflicting doctrine all made (for the sake of this discussion) by men inside the covenant and of some degree of conciliar (which does not say “ecumenical”) authority. They are both exercising, to some degree if not the final degree, the “ordinary” method of resolving theological disputes.
Here I am, just Frank, guy with a bookstore who just lost his daytime help, and I have Trent in one hand and WCF in the other. They do not agree. Now think on this: you and I agree that the word “faith” in both documents does not mean exactly the same thing – but even in that context, the documents cannot be reconciled meaningfully. There is no basis for harmonization – the semantic issue, in fact, may be a fatal matter for ever reaching a conclusion.
How do I decide which one I follow? How do I know that my Pastor, for example, does the right thing by following one and not the other? I want to do the right thing. How do I do that?
--polemicizing which is increasingly coming to be questioned in our day precisely because it's generally very ignorant of the actual history leading up to the Council and also simply gratuitously assumes that everyone both for the Council and against it accurately understood what everyone else was saying and trying to do. One of the first things that stands out about the Council of Trent when one stops to set it more basically within its late Medieval context is that it used the term "faith" entirely differently from the way the Protestants did.Sure. No doubt. I would agree without any reservation.
This being the case, it NECESSARILY follows that a denial by Trent that "faith alone" saves is not NECESSARILY a denial of what the Protestants were saying. Of course, Trent THOUGHT it was totally condemning the Protestants, and the Protestants of that day THOUGHT it actually had, but those facts alone mean about as much as two sides in a trench warfare campaign constantly yelling at each other "You started it!" "Nuh-uh, you did!" At some point somebody has to stop yelling long enough to LISTEN, but unfortunately that's very hard to do in the thick of the actual battle itself, much less after 500 years of subsequent yelling ourselves hoarse.That would be great if the only thing that Trent did was anathematize those people sloganeering “sola Fide!” We would have to run up the white flags and have a day off for thanksgiving because the matter of your party’s disagreement with my party would be, in effect, reconciled.
But Trent did a lot more than merely anathematize those who affirm sola Fide. An extremely important matter is the anathematization of those who reject the Apochrypha. This is not a matter of confused meaning – and it particularly relates to the subject at hand, which is what we mean when we say that our theology is based on sola Scriptura. It is, again, a point where “me” has to say, “well, Trent doesn’t agree with the WCF, so which one do I follow?”
Second, I do not believe that either the Council of Trent or the Westminster Assembly qualify as "Ecumenical Councils", and thus, neither one of them speaks for the Church catholic with anything approaching truly ecumenical force. I think that we need a new Council to revisit the issues that are in dispute between Rome and the Reformation--a Council made up not mostly of a bunch of hotheaded radicals (Trent) who in turn are viciously excoriated by their radically unjustly accused victims (the Reformers) so that a great big huge cycle of Mutually Assured Destruction gets started again, but instead a Council made up of calmer folks from both sides, folks dedicated to not automatically thinking the worst of each other and commited to actually hammering out an agreement, if possible, that each will pledge to live by. This doesn't fit the typical war-monger approach of either side, obviously, but look where the war-mongers have gotten us. Maybe it's time to put them out to pasture and let cooler heads prevail.If I thought that the new Pope was going to come out and say, “well, you know what? Vatican I was not quite right. We’ve made some doozers here in Rome and I’m ready to come clean,” I’d be right there with you. But be serious, Tim: do you think that’s going to happen in the next 100 years? Or ever?
And what do you think the popular response to that move would be? I can just see Catholic Answers now: “In the spirit of the Vaticanus Ecumenicus council, we are taking the website off-line until there is a final statement of unity.” It would make an interesting blog entry on April 1, but I think it is much more likely that my pants will turn into a clarinet.
Of course, I am here assuming that Protestantism can get it's act together and recover its own conciliarist background sufficiently to actually want a new Council, and actually commit itself to adhering to the Council's lawfully-declared decisions.And that, as we move on to question (3), fails to answer my question. There’s a lot of good, meaty stuff in your response, Tim, but the question is: when two non-ecumenical bodies (which might be to say, regional bodies, or provincial bodies) issue teaching positions which are contrary, what does a guy like me do with that? That is to say, how can he sort it out? There might be political reasons for the disagreement, or perhaps a rhetorical/linguistic reason, or perhaps it’s personal because somebody ran over the Pope’s cat – but when it all shakes out, “me” the guy in the pew has to have some method for taking both documents and asking, “How do I serve Jesus and still respect the authority of these men?” AND coming to a godly conclusion.
- (3) The 3rd decree of the Council of Chalcedon dictates that, unless pressed to do so to care for the needy (widows and orphans), no minister of any rank shall manage property or administer “worldly business”. I suspect that you would not condemn a minister who rented rooms to college students – and that’s a suspicion based on zero points of evidence, so I accept I might be wrong. However, I am not familiar with any conciliar document that overturns the decree of Chalcedon on this matter. How would you square up the opinion that a minister who conducts this kind of worldly business is not usurping conciliar authority?
When I speak of ecumenical conciliar authority, I'm talking primarily about the dogmatic definitions covering foundational matters of Christology.If here you are saying that you accept all the dogmatic definitions covering foundational matters of Christology of the councils, but that the rest is only some kind of artifact, you are yourself taking one of your one major premises and turning it on its head: societas Christiana. Now what do I mean by that?
Here’s what I mean: you yourself advocate the following view of “a Truly catholic Theory of Authority”. You say this, in fact, in advocating for it:
- Authority is good and is to be honored and obeyed until it blasphemes God and His Word. No law is valid if unjust, and lawful resistance to tyrants is permitted by those who recognize their own sins and repent. Rulers who do not fulfill their God-ordained duties as rulers forfeit the right to the obedience of their subjects. This is especially true if they are so unreasoningly insane that they cannot tell the difference between ruling and wrecking the society. And when insane rulers despicably hijack the mechanisms of reforming the Church (including Councils), it is lawful to search for other methods.
Unless you are willing to assert that Chalcedon was tyrannical, or corrupt, or sinful, or somehow failing to fulfill its duties in ruling, or that they were wrecking Christian society, by your definition you ought to accept the third canon as binding on clerics – and you do not.
You are doing exactly what you have excoriated Dr. Svendsen for doing: not taking the council at face value within its apparent scope of authority. I think, instead of saying, “wow, Tim’s really a bad guy,” or “So There! Dr. Svenden is vindicated!” what we have instead is a different operating principle than we expected to find on either side – something much more in compliance with this idea we have tossed around which I have called “no singular, definitive ecclesiastical theology”.
Councils usually deal with all kinds of issues, and end up issuing all kinds of decrees. Conciliarism does not stipulate that all decrees whatsoever of any Council are of equal epistemic-doctrinal status and must always, everywhere, and by all be obeyed upon penalty of anathema.No, I am sure that this is exactly the case – but at the same time, matters of canon law (which is what the third canon is: a matter of ecclesiastical law binding for the sake of polity) were not suggestions. They were not matters which issued forth from the council “to be taken under advisement”, so to speak. Canon 3 here is clear in its (political) decree, has never been overturned as far as I can tell up through the 16th century (where, I think, we can agree there is some kind of problem of continuity), and occurred within the scope of the power of the council to make it “so”.
Let me be clear: I am not saying that Canon 3 cannot be changed, or must be infallible in some way. I am saying that is never has been changed by a council of equal standing, and if we apply your view of conciliar authority, you and I do not have the right – be that convenantial, political or whatever – to say, “I just don’t agree. My pastor can go ahead and rent rooms to students of he wants to.”
Certainly, the spiritual matters of Chalcedon are weightier than this canon; certainly there is something more “important” in the doctrinal assertions of Chalcedon than in canon 3. But the problem that we are faced with, for lack of a better term (forgive me for being stupid), is the great chain of being: the Ecumenical council has authority to make this statement in such a way that, (as you have said plainly) unless it is unjust or corrupt, we are compelled by our (which is to say, your) view of society to accept and to obey.
Unless, of course, the matter of “unjust or corrupt” is not a matter of self-evidence or intention, but a matter of adhering to a higher standard which we as disciples of Christ have some access to. It is there we find our way back to the topic which started this discussion.
I'm sure there was a very good reason for Chalcedon's decree on the point you mention. Whether it needs to be obeyed today by anyone is a far different matter (i.e., a disciplinary one) than is adherence to its dogmatic definition about the person of Christ.This is exactly my point, and that you see it but do not do more with it than point it out seems somewhat incongruous – because it is exactly the matter by which you have criticized Dr. Svendsen.
[#] on the passing of Karol Wojtyla
You knew him as John Paul II, as did all of the world. I have a friend who is today saying -- rightly so -- that the passing of JPII is a great moment in the history of Protestantism in that it demonstrates the assumptions of the leaders of the Protestant world pretty clearly.
Let's make sure that I say this as clearly as possible: Wojtyla was a player in world politics. He had the ear (and in some cases, the consciences) of major world leaders, and the hearts of hundreds of millions -- and perhaps billions -- of people of all faiths. He campaigned against materialistic excesses, denouncing both the totalitarian effacement of human rights under communism and the libertarian effacement of human dignity under capitalism. He was instrumental (even before he was Pope) in political dissent against Soviet Russia, and was an ally of Ronald Reagan in the end of the Cold War.
Wojtyla was also a voice of moral reasoning who commanded the most-bully pulpit of them all. He split no hairs, and gave no quarter. There was no one who didn't know where he stood on the matters of the sanctity of life, marriage and human sexuality, the morality of war, and the authority of his church. Wojtyla never shied away from controversy when he believed a critical moral principle was at stake.
But what is the Protestant "stake" in this event? Doug Wilson, in his brief blog entry on the subject, issued what I would call his "standard challenge" to Roman Catholics -- which is that if the Jews could be cut off (even with some hope of being grafted back in), then the church of Rome must look critically at itself and ask if it is in danger of being separated from the one vine. That is, of course, part-and-parcel of Wilson's covenantial view of baptism -- so there is nothing new there, but it is the right call to be made in this time when Catholics take a moment to view the foundations of their church and faith.
The death of Karol Wojtyla is an historic event because this was a historic man -- someone who wrote himself into the pages of history boldly. It would be false to say otherwise. But the question we must answer -- the critical question for ourselves and for those who today wonder about the way God is handling the passing of a man of historical importance -- is "what does Jesus Christ think about Karol Wojtyla?"
Does Jesus Christ care that Wojtyla was Pope? If so, what does He think about being a Pope? Is being a Pope a "free pass" to salvation, a result of being saved, or a different scale of measure along the lines of "to whom much was given, of him much will be required, and from him to whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more"? (ESV, Mt 12:48)
There is a somewhat funny acedote that anyone living in NY or NJ (and some parts of PA) has undoubtedly encountered. Two men can be talking, and one might say something about the other's family which may or may not be true, and may or may not be funny. The other, in very serious objection, says, "Don't say anything about my mother. My mother's a saint." Was Karol Wojtyla a saint in this sense -- that he was sinless, in a state of virtue which excludes any sinful actions, beyond reproach in the matter of character? There is talk already around the media and on the internet that Wojtyla was a saint -- that he was in perfect communion with God through virtue and now by the fact of his entrance into heaven. Is this really true? For example, does Pope John Paul II bear any responsibility for the white-washing of the sins of priests in the American Catholic Church?
And what about doctrine? Wojtyla was devoted to Mary, and added mysteries to the Rosary for the sake of the faithful to follow in practice. He also advocated celibacy not merely as a matter of canon law -- that is, for order in the church, as a matter of obedience for the priesthood -- but as a matter of divine revelation (cf. Mulieris Dignitatem, 15 Aug 1988, section 20), stopping short only of calling it a mandatory doctrine of the faith, but plainly calling it "a sign of eschatological hope." He venerated the Koran. His catechism says that the Jews and the Muslims adore the same God the Christian sees in Jesus Christ.
In all of that, this is the context of the greatness of this moment in the history of Protestantism. How are the leaders of Protestantism responding to the death of Karol Wojtyla? Are they admitting his historical importance but challenging his position on the Gospel of Jesus Christ, or are they simply ready to forsake the Gospel to praise a man who himself preached a gospel different than the one preached by the apostles as they went to their death?
Let's make sure that I say this as clearly as possible: Wojtyla was a player in world politics. He had the ear (and in some cases, the consciences) of major world leaders, and the hearts of hundreds of millions -- and perhaps billions -- of people of all faiths. He campaigned against materialistic excesses, denouncing both the totalitarian effacement of human rights under communism and the libertarian effacement of human dignity under capitalism. He was instrumental (even before he was Pope) in political dissent against Soviet Russia, and was an ally of Ronald Reagan in the end of the Cold War.
Wojtyla was also a voice of moral reasoning who commanded the most-bully pulpit of them all. He split no hairs, and gave no quarter. There was no one who didn't know where he stood on the matters of the sanctity of life, marriage and human sexuality, the morality of war, and the authority of his church. Wojtyla never shied away from controversy when he believed a critical moral principle was at stake.
But what is the Protestant "stake" in this event? Doug Wilson, in his brief blog entry on the subject, issued what I would call his "standard challenge" to Roman Catholics -- which is that if the Jews could be cut off (even with some hope of being grafted back in), then the church of Rome must look critically at itself and ask if it is in danger of being separated from the one vine. That is, of course, part-and-parcel of Wilson's covenantial view of baptism -- so there is nothing new there, but it is the right call to be made in this time when Catholics take a moment to view the foundations of their church and faith.
The death of Karol Wojtyla is an historic event because this was a historic man -- someone who wrote himself into the pages of history boldly. It would be false to say otherwise. But the question we must answer -- the critical question for ourselves and for those who today wonder about the way God is handling the passing of a man of historical importance -- is "what does Jesus Christ think about Karol Wojtyla?"
Does Jesus Christ care that Wojtyla was Pope? If so, what does He think about being a Pope? Is being a Pope a "free pass" to salvation, a result of being saved, or a different scale of measure along the lines of "to whom much was given, of him much will be required, and from him to whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more"? (ESV, Mt 12:48)
There is a somewhat funny acedote that anyone living in NY or NJ (and some parts of PA) has undoubtedly encountered. Two men can be talking, and one might say something about the other's family which may or may not be true, and may or may not be funny. The other, in very serious objection, says, "Don't say anything about my mother. My mother's a saint." Was Karol Wojtyla a saint in this sense -- that he was sinless, in a state of virtue which excludes any sinful actions, beyond reproach in the matter of character? There is talk already around the media and on the internet that Wojtyla was a saint -- that he was in perfect communion with God through virtue and now by the fact of his entrance into heaven. Is this really true? For example, does Pope John Paul II bear any responsibility for the white-washing of the sins of priests in the American Catholic Church?
And what about doctrine? Wojtyla was devoted to Mary, and added mysteries to the Rosary for the sake of the faithful to follow in practice. He also advocated celibacy not merely as a matter of canon law -- that is, for order in the church, as a matter of obedience for the priesthood -- but as a matter of divine revelation (cf. Mulieris Dignitatem, 15 Aug 1988, section 20), stopping short only of calling it a mandatory doctrine of the faith, but plainly calling it "a sign of eschatological hope." He venerated the Koran. His catechism says that the Jews and the Muslims adore the same God the Christian sees in Jesus Christ.
In all of that, this is the context of the greatness of this moment in the history of Protestantism. How are the leaders of Protestantism responding to the death of Karol Wojtyla? Are they admitting his historical importance but challenging his position on the Gospel of Jesus Christ, or are they simply ready to forsake the Gospel to praise a man who himself preached a gospel different than the one preached by the apostles as they went to their death?






As you undoubtedly noticed, I like comics. I wouldn't call myself a "fan boy" because I don't give a flying FOOM what they are worth. That said, almost all the images on my blog are scanned from comics I own -- so they are scanned from comics I own and are used under what I assume is 
