Archive for the ‘Nicotine Theological Journal’ Category

Our friendly interlocutor, Zrim, took a dose of exception to the recent post here about drinking and smoking with Mike Horton – not with Mark Dever. He makes the plausible point that many Reformed types have graduated from a fundamentalist piety to the full-orbed one of smoking, drinking, and maybe even cussing, as part of the cage-phase of becoming Reformed.

He writes:

I have found it crowded with more or less two types: ascetic legalists and sophomoric libertarians who used to be ascetic legalists. . . . Then there is the liberty camp. Blowing smoke into the faces of their past, these find true piety to be measured by relative consumption. There seems always something to prove to some phantom somewhere in the individual or collective self, real or imagined. The way an adolescent speaks a bit higher on the phone so her parents know she is fraternizing with the neighborhood bad boy, certain libertarians want the details of their consumption known to their phantoms.

As I have admitted, this is a point that all Reformed Protestants who revel in the strong consciences need to consider.

But from the other side of the aisle comes the Reformed tradition itself. One of the more puzzling features of the original Protestant movement was a concern for eating meat – an act that hardly anyone but the most world-and-life view crazed would regard as essentially religious.. In one of the earliest Reformed creeds, Zwingli’s “Sixty-Seven Articles,” we read that the Christian “is free to eat all foods at any time.” This stemmed from the first outbreak of Protestantism in Zurich, eating sausage on Friday, a day on which Roman Catholics fasted by abstaining from meat. And not very long after Zwingli’s creed came the Tetrapolitan Confession which devoted four chapter to eating – or more precisely, to eating in contrast to fasting. One of the chapters was “Of the Choice of Meats.” The chapter on fasting has this:

When, therefore, we saw very evidently that the chief men in the Church beyond the authority of Scripture assumed this authority so to enjoin fasts as to bind men’s consciences, we allowed consciences to be freed from these snares, but by the Scriptures, and especially Paul’s writings, which with singular earnestness removes these rudiments of the world from the necks of Christians. . . . For if St. Paul (than whom no man at any time taught Christ more certainly) maintains that through Christ we have obtained such liberty in external things that he not only allows no creature the right to burden those who believe in Christ, even with those ceremonies and observances which God himself appointed, and wished in their own time to be profitable, but also denounces as having fallen away from Christ, and that Christ is of none effect to those who suffer themselves to be made servant thereto, what verdict do we think should be passed on those commandments which men have devised of themselves, not only without any oracle, but also without any example worthy of being followed, and which, therefore, are unto most not only beggarly and weak, but also hurtful; not elements – i.e., rudiments of holy discipline – but impediments of true godliness? (Ch. VIII)

One possible point to draw from this difficult prose, as sophomoric as it might appear, is that to have a theological journal, the NTJ, dedicated to the chemical found in tobacco is to bear witness to a prominent streak in the Reformed tradition about the importance of proclaiming and demonstrating Christian liberty. If meat on Friday was the way to expose the tyranny of man-made rules and false teaching in the sixteenth-century church, how much more is tobacco today a way to expose the sacred cows of both believers and citizens in the greatest smoke-free nation on God’s green earth?

Here are a couple hypotheticals. Both have to do with the ways people may take offense selectively.

First, say I am a political theorist who greatly admires the Federalist Papers (which I am not) and the arguments found there about the need for a Constitution that specifies the branches of a new federal government and their powers. If someone came along and said that federalism was the most wicked political notion ever known to man because it violated the divinely ordained rule of monarchs, would I not object because of my federalist convictions? In other words, would it matter to my federalist convictions that the attacker of federalism did not name John Jay, Alexander Hamilton, or James Madison explicitly? Wouldn’t I understand an attack on federalism to include those figures most identified with developing federalist thought (at least in the United States)?

Second, say I am a huge fan of the Coen Brothers’ movies (which I am) and someone comes along and tells me that the Coen brother’s are some of the least gifted and most adolescent of indie American directors who dabble merely in fashionable postmodernism, would I not feel my aesthetic toes trod upon even if this critic of the Coens did not mention their two best movies by name, “Miller’s Crossing” and “Hudsucker Proxy”? I mean, is a general put-down of the Coen brothers easier to take simply because it is general and lacks specifics? Or is the general rejection more sweeping because it lacks specifics that might provide wiggle room for hurt feelings? (more…)

(Reprinted from NTJ, April 1997)

From: Glenn Morangie

To: T. Glen Livet

Date: 9/23/96 5:03pm

Subject: Re: Psalmody -Reply -Reply -Reply -Reply

Glen,

I have been so long in responding because they actually want me to do work here. Go figure.

I also couldn’t help but revel in your remark that I was “right on target.” Letting that go on the superhighway for two or so weeks was about as much delight as I have had in a long time. Yes, I do lead a sheltered life.

Finally, you didn’t write anything with which I disagree. I believe we have come to about as good a resolution as possible — which is, I think, 1) that the case for exclusive psalmody is not tight, 2) that the direction of redemptive history indicates that other songs reflecting later acts of God are worthwhile, if not necessary, 3) but that the theological insights which informed the case for psalms are pretty good, and 4) that our tradition was appropriately suspicious of hymns. (more…)

Because some readers of the NTJ took exception to a recent article, and because we had no intention of giving offense, we offer the following apology:

With reference to the article “Priorities” in the last NTJ (Winter 2009), the editors unreservedly apologize for implying that there is any tension between the position of Carl Trueman and Richard Gaffin on the matter of justification regarding the bounds of confessional orthodoxy; we also apologize for the fact that Dr. Gaffin was quoted out of context in the article in a manner that distorted his views, and we affirm that his recent response to John Fesko in Ordained Servant (March 2009) represents a satisfactory clarification of the comment we misquoted; we further apologize for implying that Dr. Gaffin’s views are contrary to the Protestant confessional consensus on justification and for writing that they constitute “a new perspective on Paul,” which uses eschatology to overturn the consensus of the Reformers and the Reformed creeds; and we acknowledge that the biblical notion of union with Christ does not contradict or contravene, directly or impliedly, anything taught in the Westminster Standards.

D. G. Hart and John R. Muether

Richard John Neuhaus, who died fairly suddenly on Jan. 8, 2009, was an inspiration for the NTJ, both as an editor and a critic of mainstream American Christianity (read: Protestantism). That is about where any comparison between this publication and his, First Things, begins and abruptly ends. Where Neuhaus rubbed shoulders with religious and political elites in New York City, Washington, D.C., and the Vatican, the editors of the NTJ occasionally run into faculty from other Reformed seminaries, mix with commissioners at the OPC’s General Assembly, and occasionally give a paper at a professional learned society. Where Neuhaus used those connections to raise funds for an intellectual journal of remarkable substance, the editors of the NTJ subsidize the publication of their “journal” by smoking pipes more than cigars. (As they say, “pennies a bowl.”) Where Neuhaus drew on a gifted set of writers and editors to produce a variety of strong articles and reviews, the editors of the NTJ rely on a handful of writers whose total is increased by sometimes employing pseudonyms.

If truth be told, the idea for the section of the NTJ called, “39 Alexander Hall,” was one part Machen, the other part Neuhaus. We not only wanted to use the space to editorialize in the royal we, we hoped to replicate in a small way Neuhaus’ combination of wit, sarcasm, nay-saying, and clarity of conviction in “The Public Square.”

Not so fast, pilgrim. To read this piece in its entirety, you need to subscribe to the NTJ.

About twenty years ago, when George Marsden came out with his history of Fuller Seminary, Reforming Fundamentalism (1987), faculty, administrators, and board members at Westminster Seminary invited the author to talk to them about what the history of FTS might teach them. The general verdict of many who participated in that seminar with Marsden was that Fuller’s break with its founding faculty’s mission – especially on the doctrine of inerrancy – could not happen at WTS.

Sure, Fuller like Westminster had tried to replicate Old Princeton’s commitments to historic Protestantism and first-rate scholarship. But FTS received the Princeton tradition more awkwardly than WTS. Even if Westminster, like Fuller, was a parachurch institution and so free from the oversight of a governing church, WTS was so closely tied to the Orthodox Presbyterian Church – all its faculty were OP ministers – that Westminster is still often confused as the seminary of the OPC. In addition, WTS tried to perpetuate Old Princeton’s pursuit of polemical theology as part of its mission to maintain and defend the Reformed faith; Fuller by contrast hoped to achieve a kinder, gentler Old Princeton as part of its effort to wean fundamentalism from meanness. (Fuller’s kindness would eventually take the form of concluding that Machen too was mean and his polemics unnecessary.) Furthermore, Westminster’s faculty subscribed the Westminster Standards in their entirety – maybe the name was important, ya think? Fuller could only embrace a modified Calvinism through its own statement of faith. These differences led to the supposition that FTS could not happen to WTS.

(Not so fast, pilgrm.  To read the entire essay, you need to subscribe to the NTJ.  You don’t have to smoke to get it.)

(From NTJ, January  1998)

Nicotine of Hippo 

   We recently heard a wonderful suggestion about the name of our journal, one that might help readers who want their church libraries to take the NTJ but fear what other church members will make of the title and its association with the evil weed. Why not tell your church librarian about what a wonderful publication the NTJ is, how it is chock-full of wisdom and carries a style of argumentation rarely found in religious periodicals. Don’t say it’s smart alecky. When asked about the name, respond with as straight a face as possible that Nicotine is not what he or she thinks. Say that Nicotine is Augustine of Hippo’s obscure younger brother, whose obscurity is almost complete thanks to the modern jehad against RJR/Nabisco. Add that if the church would readily subscribe to a journal named the Augustine Theological Journal then no one could possibly object to the Nicotine Theological Journal, a publication dedicated to the memory of the first Old School Presbyterian. And because Nicotine was African the NTJ will make your church library a multi-cultural place.

Also, make sure that when you pronounce our journal’s title you put the accent on the second, rather than the first syllable of nicotine (as in ni-CO-tine), and make the last “i” short (as in “tin”).

Actually, we have a better way for churches to subscribe to the NTJ short of violating the ninth commandment (as the Reformed count them). In response to great demand (actually one EPC pastor in Texas inquired) we are now offering bulk subscriptions for congregations. Churches that order between ten and fifty subscriptions may receive the NTJ for $4 per subscription. The rate goes down to $3 per subscription for orders over fifty.

(By the way, we need to give credit to George and Lucie Marsden who suggested the new derivation of Nicotine but who have yet to subscribe and so should not be accused of sharing the NTJ’s outlook or bad habits.)

The fanfare among evangelical Presbyterians for Tim Keller’s book was deafening. So we decided to see what someone from the audience for whom Keller wrote – a non-believer – would think of Keller’s arguments. After all, are people who already believe really the best to judge a book designed to persuade those who don’t? As the reviewer, the Nichols Professor of American History at the University of Pennsylvania explains, the editors asked for this review. We had no idea what Professor Kuklick would write.

Timothy Keller, The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism. New York: Dutton, 2008. 296 pp.

The editors of the NTJ asked me to review this book. Readers have heralded it, they said, as a sophisticated body blow to secularism, but maybe the author is only talking to the already converted. What did I think? (more…)

Contents

• Allen E. Rich Growth Without Growing Up
• Bryan A. Pieters The Reformed Faith & Its Latest Substitute
• Townsend P. Levitt Big Sky Diarist: Worship Disenchanted
• 39 Alexander Hall
• Second Hand Smoke
• Index of Articles from Volumes 1-10

PDF Download

Why are you reading yet another venture in Reformed desktop publishing (aside from the fact that we can’t afford a more substantial publication)? After all, confessional Presbyterians do not lack for periodicals that defend sound theology and spot bad imitations. There are many publications that print a steady diet of articles reflecting sound biblical and doctrinal insight, from denominational magazines to theological journals. Yet few, if any of these periodicals, pay close attention to the God-ordained means of grace as well as the habits and sensibilities that articulate, cultivate and reinforce orthodoxy. That is, few publications give proper heed to the embodiment of the Reformed faith, contenting themselves with the propositional and didactic elements of Presbyterian theology while ignoring the visible expression of Presbyterian convictions. (more…)