Month: April 2012

If You Need Some Ecclesiology to Go with Your W-W

Published on by D. G. Hart6 Comments

The OPC is seeking applications from college students and seminarians for its Summer Institute. This year’s sessions will be conducted again at Shiloh Lodge from June 19 to 21 in New Hampshire’s White Mountains. Successful applicants will have their travel and lodging expenses covered.

The Summer Institute offers a glimpse of Reformed ministry as understood and practiced in the OPC. Instructors include John Muether, Greg Reynolds, and (all about me) D. G. Hart. Students will spend several days considering the following topics:

The OPC’s distinguishing characteristics and continuity with the Reformed tradition.

The centrality, nature and benefits of being a confessional church.

The importance of the means of grace in the church’s mission.

The church’s calling as a pilgrim people.

The work of a minister of the Word in an organized church and a mission work.

For more information, go here. The application deadline is April 16 but extensions may be granted.

Three Strikes and You're Out

Published on by D. G. Hart8 Comments

The piece by David Noe on Christian education (or the lack of it) has attracted a number of heated responses and none of them give much confidence that the proponents of Christian education are going to do something that is distinctly Reformed or decidedly educational. But these responses show the real weaknesses of w-w thinking and why their days are numbered unless they come up with more compelling answers and arguments.

Strike One: Noe’s piece has received much more indignation (Kuyper is turning in his grave) than it has reasoned response. Does this mean that Christian education is not interested in hard questions, only in passing on received ideas that can never be questioned lest we upset the dead? If so, I’m not sure these people are doing something that is genuinely educational, especially when it comes to teaching subjects like Shakespeare and chemistry on which Christians might have different ideas and about which Scripture is silent.

Strike Two: advocates of Christian education do not seem to notice that their practice is only generically Christian and not distinctly Reformed. (When they appeal to Augustine and Aquinas is Van Til turning in his grave?) They like to quote Cornelius Van Til who argued for an education based on a Reformed outlook. But what college or Christian day school has insisted on teaching Reformed theology, even to the Baptists and Evangelical Free Church students who enroll? Why is it that the more tenaciously an educational institution holds to the distinctness of Christian schools, the less Reformed they become? (Does question this make Dr. K.’s brain turn?)

Strike Three: advocates of Christian education invariably quote the likes of Van Til and Machen on the import of Christian schools. But the formal principle of the Reformation — sola scriptura — teaches that we are to base our faith and piety not on the doctrines and commandments of men but on the word of God. In which case, what kind of response is it to point out that Noe may disagree with Machen or Van Til? Machen was not the pope, not even the apostle Paul. He could have been wrong. Dr. Noe could be wrong. So if the advocates of Christian education want to be Christian and even Protestant, why not make a concerted exegetical case for Christian schools and colleges from the Bible, not from dead Reformed luminaries? (By the way, a wave of the hand to Deuteronomy 6 is insufficient.)

One aspect of this controversy that has yet to receive the attention it should is the difference between Dutch Calvinism and American Presbyterianism. Dutch Reformed Protestants, from the Afscheding to Dr. K., have insisted on Christian education and this reflects at least a European perspective on schooling that is foreign to the United States where public schools were always generally acceptable among American Presbyterians. Only for a brief period in the mid-19th century did Presbyterians entertain the idea of Christian schools. But the thought quickly passed and Presbyterians went back to the public schools where a generic Protestantism (via Bible reading and prayer) prevailed. Only after the Civil Rights legislation did American Presbyterians, primarily in the South, turn to private Christian schools, at least in part to avoid desegregation of public education.

The historical experiences of American Presbyterians and Dutch Calvinists rarely comes up in these discussions because Kuyperians have dominated conservative Reformed Protestantism in the United States, as if Dutch norms are the patterns for Yankees, Rebels, Farmers, and Miners. This is, as I’ve written before, one of the important features of David VanDrunen’s big book on two-kingdom theology — to show how Dutch Calvinism has dominated discussions of natural law and two kingdoms. Sometimes we need to pinch ourselves to remember that Reformed and Presbyterian churches existed before Abraham Kuyper and that they did not always do what he did. For conservative Calvinists who think Kuyper was merely following Bucer, A Lasco, and Ursinus, the idea that differences exist between the Dutch polymath and his Reformed forebears is alarming (and the source of most opposition to a certain seminary on the West Coast). But it is true. Kuyper was not the reincarnation of Calvin or Knox. That’s why they call it neo-Calvinism.

New England Theology Unmedicated

Published on by D. G. Hart29 Comments

For all of the efforts to link certain contested views with a southern California city, why has no one spotted the ties between Tim Keller, Tim Bayly, David Bayly, Richard Lovelace, and Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary? Why not a South Hamilton Theology? After all, all of the above (except for the seminary, which is independent like Westminster California), are Presbyterians of the New School variety. That is, unlike the Old School which at least made a place for the spirituality of the church as part of its understanding of ministry, these New England New Schoolers believe the church should transform culture. It may be the hard transformation advocated by the Baylys, or the soft variety coming out of Keller’s Redeemer NYC. But it is transformation nonetheless and it goes hand in hand with Lovelace’s high esteem for revivalism, pietism, and the quest for personal and social holiness.

Speaking of hard, the Baylys’ recent rant about 2k is jaw dropping in its invective. Here are a few savory bits:

The brave members of the Escondido Theology R2K Sanhedrin out at Westminster Seminary (Escondido) wage war against pastors and elders who warn their flocks and neighbors about the growing bloodshed and totalitarianism of these United States. Old people are regularly murdered, little babies are subject to the wholesale slaughter protected by SCOTUS and all its law enforcement apparatus, these evils will only grow under Obamacare’s nationalized healthcare…

Meanwhile the R2K Sanhedrin is desperate to silence all those Reformed voices speaking out against the Third Reichification of nursing homes and hospitals and Ethical Review Committees.

You have, of course, noticed all those Reformed pastors and elders speaking out against the Third Reichification of our hospitals and nursing homes, haven’t you? Likely you yourself have a Reformed pastor or session in your own community that regularly pickets your county nursing home. Your hospital. A graduate of Covenant Theological Seminary who writes letters to your state’s board of medical ethics…

Aside from mixing up their seminaries — coherence is not one of the Baylys’ long suits — where do you go from an introduction like this? How about here?

Even if we thought the Escondido Theology R2K storm troopers were right in calling down fire from Heaven on pastors betraying their Gospel calling for politics, we’d look around and wonder where on earth these pastors and sessions are? I mean I have a pretty broad knowledge of the Reformed church in these United States and, for the life of me, I can’t think of even a single church anywhere that lets out a peep about politics or takes the first step toward clothing the naked public square as righteous Lot did.

These R2K men working hard to gag Reformed pastors and elders really have no one at all to gag. And they know it.

This may explain the reference in the title to medication. One of the indications of mania is conspiratorial thinking, which doesn’t let contrary evidence get in the way, no matter how close at hand it is. The piece of evidence that might challenge this hysteria is the fact that no one has yet to shut down the Bayly Blog and it would be good of Tim and David to produce evidence of anyone attempting to silence them.

But the fault in my logic could be that I don’t understand that for the Baylys disagreement constitutes tyranny. Just look at the way they jump from the martyrs of the early church (who last I checked actually lost their lives) to the contemporary social conservatives (who merely lose the respect of their fellow citizens, especially if they follow the logic of the Baylys).

Intolleristas are bloodthirsty for exclusivists. It was this way with the Early Church under Rome and it’s this way with the Late Church under Western Secularism. Separation of church and state is the death of Christian evangelism and discipleship unless Christian evangelism and discipleship becomes as vapid as the R2K monomaniacs.

Christian life, worship, evangelism, and discipleship are utterly incompatible with Western Secularism’s pluralism. Every single time a man under the Lordship of Jesus Christ tries to clothe our naked public squares, he will be shouted down by those convinced they don’t have gods and they don’t worship and they are as broad-minded and tolerant as can be.

And if that man escapes the priests and priestesses of tolerance, on the way home he’ll be cornered by the R2K Sanhedrin who will beat the tar out of him for giving Reformed copaceticdom a bad name.

I keep thinking that at some point some of the folks who have it in for 2k will back away from their prejudices because of nonsense like the Baylys’. It would be like the kind of angst that fans of Indiana University basketball experienced when Bobby Knight was doing his impersonation of John McEnroe. You might still root against 2k, but you might also begin to think that the case needs a better expression. But apparently critics of 2k are so opposed that they will turn a blind eye to God’s law and common decency.

24/7 Christians and Lent

Published on by D. G. Hart97 Comments

With one of those liturgical seasons coming to a close and with a big Sunday on the horizon — we’re not talking Super Bowl but chocolate bunnies — a passing comment on the time of the year known as Lent may be in order. Peter Leithart has been blogging about it, which may indicate that his church in Moscow, Idaho is following the church calendar (what would John Piper say to Doug Wilson?). Today (or yesterday), Leithart aggregated a number of tweets about the benefits of Lent. Here is a sampling:

We’re hungry for all the wrong things. We need Lent to develop a taste for the fruit of the tree of life – that is, the fruit of the cross.

An exercise in delayed gratification, Lent is profoundly counter-cultural.

Lent gives the only answer there is to the problem of evil: A cross that triumphs over evil, a death that tramples death.

Lent tells us what time it is – the time between resurrection and resurrection.

Lent reminds us that Jesus didn’t go to the cross so we can escape the cross; He went to the cross to enable us to bear it after Him.

Lent gives us 40 days to contemplate the glory of the Crucified, which saves the world.

Aside from whether or not these statements are true, if they are, why wouldn’t Christians want to reflect on or practice these things the whole year? Is it really possible to take 315 days off from considering that we live between the resurrection and resurrection? Or do we want to spend only forty days contemplating the glory of the Christ crucified?

Two-kingdom advocates frequently receive the criticism that we are limiting Christianity to Sundays, that we are telling people they can be “worldly” during the weekdays as long as they are holy on Sunday. That is a severe misrepresentation of 2k. But even if it were true, we at least devote 52 days, 12 more than the church calendar followers, to being profoundly cultural. Why don’t we get any credit for that?

More Machen, Less Mencken

Published on by D. G. Hart30 Comments

Our Philadelphia correspondent alerted me to an arresting invocation of J. Gresham Machen and H. L. Mencken — Baltimore’s two bad boys (one on religious, the other on cultural grounds) — at the G-rated Gospel Coalition of all places. The post surprised me not for the appeal of Machen to those who channel Edwards via Piper. After all, the Minneapolis pastor has written quite positively about Machen. The reference to Mencken especially caught my eye. Lest Old Lifers think that the Co-Allies have all of a sudden acquired an edge, not to worry. Turns out that Machen and Mencken are, along with Chesterton and C.S. Lewis, not the best models for Christians who would be bloggers. According to John Starke:

Of course, the best of Christian public intellectuals carried this same shrewd sarcasm. C. S. Lewis and G. K. Chesterton are excellent examples, and we often follow in their lead, showing others just how exasperating their logic can be. That’s been our self-appointed task, too, ever since we registered for [insert name here].blogspot.com.

The problem is that we tend not to follow Lewis and Chesterton all the way. In other words, we adopt their sarcasm and wit but not the spirituality of their aims. They guided readers toward the place where wisdom could be found, introducing them to a kingdom that stands on firmer ground. We thrive on exposing the fool. We hold the doctrine of J. Gresham Machen but carry the tone of H. L. Mencken.

The better way is to do what Jesus would do and blog Christly:

It shouldn’t be surprising, then, that our opponents don’t see us in the same light as Lewis and Chesterton, or associate us with Jesus for that matter. If we aim to follow Christ, as Paul exhorts us in Philippians 2, then we must imitate not only his wit and wisdom before opponents but also his silence before enemies and mockers at the cross.

I actually think the jury is out on what tone Jesus might adopt when blogging. He did not suffer Pharisees or disciples lightly. I even once suggested to friends that Jesus loved people but he didn’t particularly like them. It all depends on how we define like, I guess. Even so, the greatest indications of warmth from Jesus, beyond his overall humiliation — from birth to descent into hell, is when he weeps over Lazarus and when John reports on his friendship with his Lord. For my part, Jesus doesn’t need to be warm and fuzzy. His accomplished redemption is sufficient.

Be that as it may, with Jesus as a debatable standard, I’ll appeal to Machen and suggest that the Gospel Coalition would be a lot more interesting and useful if it and its members could actually mix a little condemnation along with all of their back-patting. I get it, they stand for the Gospel. Who in the Christian world does not? But what about the infidelities in their midst? What happens with a James McDonald or a Mark Driscoll? Does anyone suggest their teachings and associations are wrong? Or do the Co-Allies adopt the playbook of the Presbyterian Church U.S.A. when they regretfully accepted the resignation of Pearl S. Buck? Or what about the disagreements among the Co-Allies Council over what the Bible teaches? Why do their bloggers give the impression that everyone is on the same page and that rocking the boat is impious?

So to help the Co-Allies find their inner Gilbert Tennent, little sampling of no-nonsense, with a pinch of sarcasm from Machen, who wrote the following before the meeting of the General Assembly that would uphold his deposition from the ministry:

The whole program of the General Assembly is carefully planned in such a way as to conceal the real issues and give a false impression of faithfulness to the Word of God. I do not mean that the deceit is necessarily intentional. The men conducting the ecclesiastical machine are no doubt in many instances living in a region of thought and feeling so utterly remote from the great verities of the Christian Faith that they have no notion how completely they are diverting attention from those verities in their conduct of the Assembly. But the fact remains that the whole program, from whatever motives, is so constructed as to conceal the real condition of the Church.

1. Conference on Evangelism
One instrument of concealment is the program of the pre-Assembly Conference on Evangelism. That program is carefully planned. Its very name suggests to unwary persons that the Church is perfectly orthodox. “Evangelism” certainly has a reassuring sound. The contents of the program also often provides sops for the evangelical minority in the Church. There is nothing that Modernist ecclesiastics love quite so much as evangelical sermons that serve as the prelude to anti-evangelical action. They are such effective instruments in lulling Christian people to sleep. . . .

7. False Use of Sentiment
A seventh instrument of concealment is the false use of perfectly worthy sentiment for partisan ends. In 1933, there was a contest regarding the Board of Foreign Missions. The Assembly’s Committee on Foreign Missions brought in a majority report favoring the policy of the Board and a minority report opposing that policy. Now every year it is the custom to read the names of the missionaries who have died during the year. The Assembly rises in respect to the honored dead, and is led in prayer. It is a solemn moment.

Where do you suppose that solemn service was put in? Well, it was tagged on to the majority report from the Committee! Then, after the solemn hush of that scene, the minority report was heard! Could anything have been more utterly unfair? The impression was inevitably made that the minority report was in some sort hostile to that honoring of the pious dead. The sacred memory of those missionaries was used to “put across” a highly partisan report whitewashing a Modernist program which some of them might have thoroughly condemned. Unfortunately they were not there to defend themselves against that outrageous misuse of their names. There is urgent need of a reform of the Assembly’s program at that point. The honor paid to departed missionaries should be completely divorced from the report of the Assembly’s committee on the Boards.

That is only one instance of the way in which at the Assembly legitimate sympathy is used to accomplish partisan ends. Very cruel and heartless measures are sometimes pushed through under cover of sympathetic tears.

Religious Liberty Does Not Necessarily Include Feeling Affirmed and Empowered

Published on by D. G. Hart38 Comments

Religious liberty is much in the news thanks to President Obama’s national health care program and its requirements for funding abortion and contraceptive service. (For what it’s worth, the bigger story here has less to do with religious liberty or freedom of conscience and health insurance than it does with who died and gave Health and Human Services powers no king could have imagined.) Outside THE beltway, religious liberty is also a topic for heated debate at Vanderbilt University. There officials have put a number of religious student groups in a provisional status thanks to their policies on student leaders. Christian groups, I suppose though cannot gather from one of the concerned websites, bar homosexuals from assuming positions of leadership. They may also exclude active unmarried heterosexuals. But whatever their policies, Vanderbilt apparently wants all organizations open to all students. If the student organizations do not comply, they may forego their lines of funding and places on campus.

Over at National Review, David French takes umbrage at what he sees as Vanderbilt’s attempt to intimidate Christian groups:

The reality, of course, is that Vanderbilt is trying to force the orthodox Christian viewpoint off campus. The “nondiscrimination” rhetoric is mere subterfuge. How can we know this? Because even as it works mightily to make sure that atheists can run Christian organizations, it is working just as mightily to protect the place and prerogatives of Vanderbilt’s powerful fraternities and sororities — organizations that explicitly discriminate, have never been open to “all comers,” and cause more real heartache each semester for rejected students than any religious organization has ever inflicted in its entire history on campus. Vanderbilt’s embattled religious organizations welcome all students with open arms; Vanderbilt’s fraternities and sororities routinely reject their fellow students based on little more than appearance, family heritage, or personality quirks.

Hard as it may be to understand why Vanderbilt would fail to see the value of the diversity of groups — instead of making them potentially all the same with similar sets of members — confessional Protestants may also sympathize with parts of the university’s actions. As bad as blaming the victim is, can Christians at Vanderbilt really not imagine that all the social conservatism going on in the nation’s politics will barely leave a ripple in the lives of believers outside the political fray? After all, if all of life is religious as evangelicals claim, then is a student Christian group on campus simply about devotion and worship or does it not also have political implications? I suppose that Wheaton College refuses to recognize pro-choice student associations. Is Vanderbilt any more biased, intolerant, or tyrannical if they identify conservative Christian student groups with Rick Santorum and the Republican base?

Mind you, the officials at Vanderbilt could be more charitable and patient as liberals are supposed to be. They could seek a compromise with the student groups — only prayer and Bible reading, not speakers for political topics. But given their ideas about equal rights and tolerance, Vanderbilt’s policy should not be a surprise, especially in a climate of a politicized faith.

Another reason for being cautious about the situation is that so far — PTL — Christians in the United States have all the freedom they need to worship God. They likely enjoy more freedom than Americans did at the time of the Constitution’s ratification (since some states still had established churches). And compared to the rest of the world, Americans are as rich in religious freedom as they are in cash, vacations, and reality shows. (In fact, it looks a tad indecent for Christians to complain about their rights in the U.S. when Christians throughout the Middle East are truly persecuted for the faith.) The lesson for Vanderbilt’s students may be that the city of Nashville has many fine churches. If students want to worship God, they have lots of options and should use them. A confessionalist might add that worshiping God while part of a congregation overseen by officers and in fellowship with a wider communion is far better than using a parachurch group as an ecclesiastical substitute.

In other words, as much as I don’t care for what Vanderbilt appears to be doing to the principles of diversity, I’m loathe to beat up on the university to defend parachurch organizations when plenty of congregations in Nashville would be glad to see the university’s students gather with them for worship.

(Thanks to our correspondent inside THE beltway.)

As If I (all about me) Needed Another Excuse to See "A Serious Man" Again

Published on by D. G. Hart20 Comments

With the recent start of Mad Men’s fifth season, the critics have been piling praise high and deep for a show that as much as I watch leaves me cold. The reviewer for Terry Gros’ Fresh Air gassed on about the show’s finely textured characters. Puh-leeze. This seemed like a desperate attempt by a university professor with a radio gig to find a way on to the invitation-list for one of Hollywood’s upcoming galas. Mad Men is entirely lacking, in my not so humble estimation, in character development and the other factor that develops characters — dialogue. So I see Don Draper brood over which babe he is going to bed next. So Don has a complicated past and multiple identities. I wouldn’t want to have a meal with him (especially if I cross dressed). In comparison I’d be all over a meal or pint with Jimmy, Bunk, Bunnie, or Carcetti — from The Wire. I’d like to add Omar to the list, but I’m doubting a fellow on that side of the law would want to dine with this egg-headed honkie. Nor do I imagine that in real life such a social outing would be safe.

What Mad Men does have is atmosphere. And for us baby-boomers who were too young and too fundamentalist to know about the world of advertising and New York City life in the fast lane, Mad Men evokes an era and a world that is heavy on eye-candy. It allows us to see the world our parents did everything to prevent us from seeing.

But you can’t get by only on atmosphere, which is why the Coen Brothers are gems in the world of not-so-Indie cinema. They do atmosphere incredibly well. Just see Miller’s Crossing (their homage to the gangster genre) or Barton Fink (their homage to post-modernism). But in addition to atmosphere, the Coens add humor, irony (several helpings), and the Montaignian twist of things not being what they seem.

This is a long winded way of recommending a recent post by Noah Millman, a guy trained in economics who used to blog at the American Scene and now does so regularly for the American Conservative. Millman is the first to write (at least the first I’ve read) about the opening scene in A Serious Man and make sense of it, a movie that, by the way, captures the mood of an era and I suspect does well with Jewish-American life in the land of Lake Wobegone. Millman also supplies a reading of the movie based on Job which makes complete sense and completely missed me — perhaps because my biblical w-w is defective or because I spent too much time in the movie trying to figure out the opening scene. Here’s part of Millman writes about the Coens’ modern-day Job (he compares it to Tree of Life):

“The Tree of Life” is a snapshot of the moment when Job hears the voice out of the whirlwind. Jack has “kept it together” for years, decades, but for whatever reason today the defenses have broken down, and he is face to face with questions he has buried since he was a young man. (As the festival musaf liturgy says: “in the face of our sins were we exiled from our land,” which I take to mean: now, conscious of our exile, unable to make expiation through the Temple, we cannot escape a confrontation with our sins.) And he – we – see God’s answer: look at the dinosaurs! I made them, they lived, and thrived, and then I took them all away, and you never even knew them. And somehow Jack sees: yes, You will take them all, You will take us all, to where I do not know, but if I remember that, perhaps I can accept that taking my brother was just . . . taking back what was Yours. And I can make that a gift to you.

“A Serious Man” stops just before this point. The whirlwind comes – and the movie stops. This seems like an ending that endorses Larry’s moral confusion – even the whirlwind doesn’t mean anything – but, notwithstanding the Coen brothers’ evident lack of interest in piety, I question that. The filmmakers’ anger at Larry, at the smallness both of his seriousness and of his sins, and, by extension, at the entire middle-class insular Jewish culture in which they were reared, burns forth from the screen. The whirlwind doesn’t speak – the idea that the “wonders of creation” constitute some kind of answer to Larry (or Job) is simply mocked. But they did not make this movie arbitrarily. They made it for a reason. This perspective, this anger, is itself a version of God’s answer out of the whirlwind, and a meaningful one, as surely as Malick’s film is, and the Coen brothers, in abusing poor Larry so mercilessly, are playing the part of God in the story. They want to shake him out of who he is, into something, well, more like what they are, what Larry’s son, presumably, grew up to be.

I may disagree with Millman about the Coens’ “anger” or attempt to play God — I am not sure they are all that firm in their convictions. But it is the best reading of the film I’ve seen and invites another viewing — which will further predispose me with the Season Five version of Don Draper.

Moderate 2K in the OPC: No (April's) Fooling

Published on by D. G. Hart27 Comments

The April issue (online) of Ordained Servant is out and the theme is Natural Law. It features two articles that have 2k fingerprints all over them, David VanDrunen’s on natural law in Reformed theology and David Noe’s on the differences between redemption and culture and the implications of this difference for so-called Christian education. Here are a few highlights.

From VanDrunen:

. . . a Reformed theology of natural law should be grounded in a theology of nature, which in turn should be grounded in our covenant theology. When thinking about a theology of nature, it makes sense first to consider Genesis 1 and the original covenant of works. Genesis 1 makes immediately clear that God’s creating activity instills the entire natural world with order and purpose. His creation is objectively meaningful. Another thing Genesis 1 explicitly teaches is that God made human beings in his image, and this image entailed knowledge, righteousness, and holiness (Eph. 4:24; Col. 3:10). Human beings were thus subjectively capable of comprehending and acting upon the truth communicated in nature. To say that the natural order is objectively meaningful and that human beings are subjectively capable of apprehending its meaning may seem like obvious assertions to many Christians, but they are crucial foundation to a theology of natural law, and they emerge already from Genesis 1. We also observe in Genesis 1 that God made man in his image for the purpose of exercising dominion in the world. God had exercised supreme dominion in creating the world, and man, according to his likeness, was to rule the world under him. If man was to rule the world in God’s likeness, he had to rule it not aimlessly but toward a goal, for God himself worked, then passed through his own judgment (Gen 1:31), and finally rested. As taught in our doctrine of the covenant of works, God made man to work, then to pass through his judgment, and finally to join him in his eschatological rest. Genesis 1, I believe, does not allow us to separate our doctrine of the image of God from the covenant of works, as if the latter were simply added on at some point after man’s creation. God made human beings by nature to work in this world and then to attain eschatological life. Thus the original order of nature communicated not only man’s basic moral obligations toward God but also the fact that God would judge him for his response and reward or punish him accordingly.

In light of the fall, however, we cannot simply view natural law now through the lens of the original creation. Accordingly, I suggest that it is helpful to view natural law in the present world through the lens of the covenant with Noah in Genesis 8:20–9:17, for this is the means by which God now preserves and governs both the cosmic and social realms. This covenant makes clear that God still orders the cosmos and makes it objectively meaningful, though its purposes have been obscured, and that he still deals with all human beings as his image-bearers, though they are fallen. God gives human beings responsibilities adapted for a fallen world, but these responsibilities resemble those under the original creation order. We are to be fruitful and multiply, to rule the animals responsibly, and to pursue justice (Gen 9:1–7). God did not impose these obligations arbitrarily; they correspond to the nature with which he created us. The very commission to do justice is grounded in human nature: “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in his own image” (9:6).

From Noe:

I teach Classics for the glory of God. I do this because he has saved me from my sins, and reconciled me to himself through the vicarious atonement of his Son freely given for me. This makes what I do Christian, but it seems that this is only because I seek, Dei gratia, to do it for his glory.

I use in this instruction a vast array of books, tools, terms, and skills, the overwhelming majority of which were produced by men and women whose motivations are likely different than mine. Moreover, while their motivations sometimes differ from mine in ways that are un-Christian, I as a Christian am utterly at a loss to find a better, or sometimes even different way to do the things they did despite my having a motivation that is sanctified. In fact, efforts to find a uniquely Christian way to teach Classics, for example, seem both vain and futile, as well as ungrateful in that they risk denying the common grace God has given the wicked, the rain he has sent on us both, and by which he has apparently intended to bless me also.

. . . it seems to me that, as with cycling, philosophy, and music, the most we can say about “Christian education” is that it is education delivered or provided by Christians. This, of course, is not an unimportant claim. But when we say that, however, we are once again talking about dispositions and motives and saying nothing distinguishable either about the process or the result of that process. In short, it seems there may be no such thing as Christian education after all, at least not in the sense in which it seems often used, and that grand adjective which indicates a special closeness with the divine Son of God ought, perhaps, to be confined within a much closer compass: to persons whom Christ has saved, the worship such persons offer, and the study and promulgation of the divine Word on which that worship is based. If by “Christian education” this is what is meant, the term seems quite apt.

Critics of 2k will no doubt conclude that the OPC is lurching toward theological confusion by giving a hearing to such views. But the OPC’s stance could very well be an indication that 2kers are fully within the bounds of the church’s confession. If that is so, then 2k’s critics are the radical ones.