Author: D. G. Hart

Show Me Jesus

Published on by D. G. Hart28 Comments

Unam Sanctam helps sort through the confusion about canonization (especially those of Pope John XXIII and Pope John Paul II):

By virtue of this fact, the second aspect of the person’s canonization, that they are a person of heroic virtue who should be seen as a model for the faithful is not a question that is at all up for dispute. Simply because a Saint makes mistakes in his life, or even makes objectively wrong choices, has no bearing on the matter. A Saint is not a person who lived their whole life perfectly; but rather, a Saint is a person who, by the end of their earthly pilgrimage, demonstrated the fact that through God’s grace they were able to attain to an eminent degree of perfection. For this reason they should be seen by all as a model for the faithful of heroic virtue, and the fact that they have been canonized dispels any doubt there might be in the matter.

This is not to say that elements of the pontificates of John XXIII or John Paul II are not problematic; they certainly are. This is for history to assess. Because of the changes in the process and the manner in which these canonizations are proceeding, it has been the position of this blog that there is an unfortunate confusion in modern canonizations when it comes to saints who also held ecclesiastical office vis-a-vis the question of whether a saint who was personally holy but had significant failures in the exercise of their office should be considered a model of heroic virtue (see here and here). Without reopening that argument, it suffices to say that a saint must always be a role model for heroic virtue in so far as we are talking about their personal holiness, which is the fundamental reason for their canonization. In the case of John Paul II, Cardinal Amato said very plainly that the canonization is based on the late pontiff’s personal holiness, not how he administered his papacy or the impact he had in the world. We may not appreciate that distinction or think it is helpful, but at least in making this statement the Vatican has, in a certain sense, sorted out the question of whether John Paul’s canonization means he was also a model pope. The answer is clearly no, and Cardinal Amato’s answer thankfully allows us to maintain this point whilst simultaneously affirming the legitimacy of his canonization as a true exercise of the infallibility of the pope.

“An eminent degree of perfection” in this life? When did Rome become Wesleyan?

What did Paul say?

For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.

So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin.
(Romans 7:18-25 ESV)

This is one of those thorny matters the Callers need to ‘splain (like how such perfection is possible apart from Christ).

If Christians are Divided, Why So Much Talk about Common Good?

Published on by D. G. Hart18 Comments

The really cool conference — though, how cool is Nashville compared to Manhattan — sponsored by Q has generated some discussion about the common good and what stake Christians have in it. Andy Crouch thinks Christians should promote the common good since it will begin rather than end conversations. I’m not sure how defining the good as God will work (though I can imagine how food and sharing a meal might):

the common good allows us to stake out our Christian convictions about what is good for humans—and to dare our neighbors to clarify their own convictions. “In the simplest sense,” Bradley Lewis said, “the common good is God. It is God who satisfies what people need, individually and communally.” Adopting the language of the common good means owning this bedrock Christian belief and proclaiming it to our neighbors. If we are not offering our neighbors the ultimate common good—the knowledge and love of God—we are not taking the idea of the common good seriously.

If Crouch is at all representative of evangelicals, and if born-again Protestants are going to follow Joe Carter in rejecting civil religion, they are going to have to give up identifying the common good with God. Carter is properly worried about how void the word “god” is in “under God” from the Pledge of Allegiance:

There is a vast and unbridgeable chasm between America’s civil religion and Christianity. If we claim that “under God” refers only to the Christian, Trinitarian conception of God we are either being unduly intolerant or, more likely, simply kidding ourselves. Do we truly think that the Hindu, Wiccan, or Buddhist is claiming to be under the same deity as we are? We can’t claim, as Paul did on Mars Hill, that the “unknown god” they are worshiping is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. They have heard of Jesus — and reject him as God.’

The Pledge is a secular document and the “under god” is referring to the Divinity of our country’s civil religion. Just as the pagan religion of the Roman Empire was able to incorporate other gods and give them familiar names, the civil religion provides an umbrella for all beliefs to submit under one nondescript, fill-in-the-blank term.

So, then, should we give up religion in public life? Of course, not (even if a full-blown use of God in the Trinitarian sense is going to be divisive):

Don’t get me wrong: I think we need to stand firm on allowing religion into the “naked public square.” But we should do so defending our real religious beliefs rather than a toothless imitation. If we pray in the public square, we should have no qualms about using the true name of the God to whom we are praying.

So much for the common (whether it’s good or not).

Not even David Cameron can get away with mentioning an effete Anglicanism without taking a beating (as reported by Tim Keller’s biggest Scottish fan):

One wonders if our Prime Minister, David Cameron will be allowed to say his latest remarks on the British Broadcasting Corporation.

They have certainly caused a furore which has resulted in a letter to The Telegraph signed by 55 of the great and good, who warn of dire consequences in the Prime Minister voicing the unthinkable. Saying Britain is a Christian country has “negative consequences” and encourages sectarianism.

“In his call for more evangelism, Mr Cameron is exclusively tying himself to one faith group, inevitably to the exclusion of others,” opined Elizabeth O’Casey, Policy and Research Office at the National Secular Society. She also warned us that we are moving away from the concept of all of us being “rights-bearing citizens first and foremost, with democratic autonomy and equality, regardless of which faith they happen to have, or not have”.

Britain is apparently in danger of turning from this nice, tolerant secular country into some kind of European Syria, torn apart by sectarian strife. Beware of the Christian Jihad, the Tartan Taleban and the Charismatic suicide bombers!

To this Free Church pastor’s credit, he is not overly edified by Cameron’s vapid Christian affirmation:

I will not comment on Mr Cameron’s politics but I seriously hope they are much better than his theology. He states: “I am not one for doctrinal purity, and I don’t believe it is essential for evangelism about the church’s role in our society or its importance.” But Jesus is for doctrinal purity. It really does matter that he is the Son of God, that he was born of a virgin, that he did miracles, that he rose from the dead, that he is coming back as judge and saviour – all good theological statements.

Even so, if a vague Anglican expression cannot avoid public flack, how much are the folks who gather in Nashville deceiving themselves?

Just to illustrate how difficult it is to square any serious faith with the common good, try changing the words on this recent Chamber-of-Commerce-like missive about religious social goods (which sounds a lot like common good):

Religion Islam, especially communal religion Islam, provides important benefits for everyone in the liberal state—even the non-religious Mulsim. Religion Islam encourages people to associate with and feel responsible for others, to engage with them in common endeavors. Religion Islam promotes altruism and neighborliness, and mitigates social isolation. Religion Islam counteracts the tendencies to apathy and self-centeredness that liberalism seems inevitably to create. . . .

To be sure, religions the varieties of Islam don’t always encourage civic fellowship; to the extent a religion Islam promotes sedition or violence against other citizens, society does not benefit. And perhaps, as Gerald Russello suggests, the non-religious Muslims have come so to distrust religion Islam that they will view its contributions as tainted and objectionable from the start. But in encouraging greater social involvement, religion Islam offers benefits to everyone, believers and non-believers, too. It’s worth reminding skeptics of this when they argue that religion Islam, as such, doesn’t merit legal protection.

Why Christians need to find consolation and support from the political or common realm is a mystery (though years of Christendom provide a partial explanation. Sure, pilgrimage is tough and Christ did tell his followers that the world would hate them. So why not simply rely upon the good words of God’s word, the reminder of belonging to Christ in baptism, and the rib-sticking spiritual food of the Supper rather than constantly looking for the world to think well of us?

Does Christianity Make Me Less Human?

Published on by D. G. Hart92 Comments

I finished a seminar yesterday on the Turkish writer, Orhan Pamuk. I presented to class his speech upon receipt of the Nobel Prize for Literature (2006). (In addition to being a great writer, Pamuk is great for thinking about differences between East and West, secularism and religion, political Islam and secular Turkey, by the way, not to mention that his thoughts about the Muslim notion of huzun resonates with Christian ideas of suffering.) His speech concludes this way, on why he writes:

I write because I have an innate need to write! I write because I can’t do normal work like other people. I write because I want to read books like the ones I write. I write because I am angry at all of you, angry at everyone. I write because I love sitting in a room all day writing. I write because I can only partake in real life by changing it. I write because I want others, all of us, the whole world, to know what sort of life we lived, and continue to live, in Istanbul, in Turkey. I write because I love the smell of paper, pen, and ink. I write because I believe in literature, in the art of the novel, more than I believe in anything else. I write because it is a habit, a passion. I write because I am afraid of being forgotten. I write because I like the glory and interest that writing brings. I write to be alone. Perhaps I write because I hope to understand why I am so very, very angry at all of you, so very, very angry at everyone. I write because I like to be read. I write because once I have begun a novel, an essay, a page, I want to finish it. I write because everyone expects me to write. I write because I have a childish belief in the immortality of libraries, and in the way my books sit on the shelf. I write because it is exciting to turn all of life’s beauties and riches into words. I write not to tell a story, but to compose a story. I write because I wish to escape from the foreboding that there is a place I must go but – just as in a dream – I can’t quite get there. I write because I have never managed to be happy. I write to be happy.

Now if I were a good New Calvinist, I could go Strunk-and-White on Pamuk and say simply and tersely, “I write to glorify God”? Or is it possible to talk about all the human reasons for our work and add the glory of God to them? It seems to me that for as admirable as theocentricity is in worship, it doesn’t make for very interesting or complicated human beings.

Saint Sighting

Published on by D. G. Hart25 Comments

While some Roman Catholics follow news of the Virgin Mary’s sightings, I was recently reminded by the apostle named Matthew (no need for apostolic succession on this source) that Jesus’ mother posts here at Old Life and even at the Gospel Coalition:

47 While he was still speaking to the people, behold, his mother and his brothers stood outside, asking to speak to him. 48 But he replied to the man who told him, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49 And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 50 For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” (Matthew 12)

Calvin doesn’t read this passage in quite as favorable a manner for Old Life or blogging as this post suggests:

These words were unquestionably intended to reprove Mary’s eagerness, and she certainly acted improperly in attempting to interrupt the progress of his discourse. At the same time, by disparaging the relationship of flesh and blood, our Lord teaches a very useful doctrine; for he admits all his disciples and all believers to the same honorable rank, as if they were his nearest relatives, or rather he places them in the room of his mother and brethren Now this statement is closely connected with the office of Christ; for he tells us that he has been given, not to a small number of individuals, but to all the godly, who are united in one body with him by faith. He tells us also, that there is no tie of relationship more sacred than spiritual relationship, because we ought not to think of him according to the flesh, but according to the power of his Spirit which he has received from the Father to renew men, so that those who are by nature the polluted and accursed seed of Abraham begin to be by grace the holy and heavenly sons of God. In like manner, Paul affirms that to know Christ after the flesh is not to know him properly, (2 Corinthians 5:16,) because we ought rather to consider that renovation of the world, which far exceeds human power, and which takes place when he forms us anew by his Spirit to the image of God. To sum up the whole, this passage, first, teaches us to behold Christ with the eyes of faith; and, secondly, it informs us, that every one who is regenerated by the Spirit, and gives himself up entirely to God for true justification, is thus admitted to the closest union with Christ, and becomes one with him.

But Calvin’s point, not to mention or Lord’s, sure would seem to take the wind out of the veneration of Mary sails.

Ichabod Indeed

Published on by D. G. Hart3 Comments

Noah Millman’s post about Passover observance among non-strict Jewish persons like himself reminded me of a stunning Old Testament reading from Sunday’s morning worship service. It is hard to believe how far God’s chosen people had fallen until you read all that King Josiah needed to do just to return to square one. For instance:

Moreover, the altar at Bethel, the high place erected by Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin, that altar with the high place he pulled down and burned, reducing it to dust. He also burned the Asherah. 16 And as Josiah turned, he saw the tombs there on the mount. And he sent and took the bones out of the tombs and burned them on the altar and defiled it, according to the word of the Lord that the man of God proclaimed, who had predicted these things. 17 Then he said, “What is that monument that I see?” And the men of the city told him, “It is the tomb of the man of God who came from Judah and predicted these things that you have done against the altar at Bethel.” 18 And he said, “Let him be; let no man move his bones.” So they let his bones alone, with the bones of the prophet who came out of Samaria. 19 And Josiah removed all the shrines also of the high places that were in the cities of Samaria, which kings of Israel had made, provoking the Lord to anger. He did to them according to all that he had done at Bethel. 20 And he sacrificed all the priests of the high places who were there, on the altars, jand burned human bones on them. Then he returned to Jerusalem.

21 And the king commanded all the people, “Keep the Passover to the Lord your God, as it is written in this Book of the Covenant.” 22 For no such Passover had been kept since the days of the judges who judged Israel, or during all the days of the kings of Israel or of the kings of Judah. 23 But in the eighteenth year of King Josiah this Passover was kept to the Lord in Jerusalem.

24 Moreover, Josiah put away the mediums and the necromancers and the household gods and the idols and all the abominations that were seen in the land of Judah and in Jerusalem, that he might establish the words of the law that were written in the book that Hilkiah the priest found in the house of the Lord. 25 Before him there was no king like him, who turned to the Lord with all his heart and with all his soul and with all his might, according to all the Law of Moses, nor did any like him arise after him. (2 Kings 23:15-25)

Sounds like the sort of text that would have come in handy for Protestant iconoclasm in the sixteenth century.

But back to Millman. Unlike the Israelites who had gone 18 years without observing Passover, it is now wallpaper for modern Jews no matter what the level of observance:

Although I have fallen away from observance in many areas, Passover remains a special case where I remain a bit medakdek – not by comparison with somebody strictly observant, but in comparison with my year-round standards of observance. In particular, we always do a fairly complete rendition of the Passover seder, reading (and singing) the complete text of the haggadah.

Although arguably more observant and thoughtful about it, Millman’s experience reinforces how common it has been for Passover to be observed even in those families like the one Barry Levinson portrayed in Liberty Heights.

The contrast between Passover frequency and infrequency is to (all about) me staggering.

I Wonder as Jason Wonders

Published on by D. G. Hart153 Comments

That’s one way of asking it:

As I continued wrestling through the issues of church authority and its relation to Scripture, one of the questions I kept returning to was that of likelihood. “All things being equal,” I would ask myself, “which is more likely: that Jesus had intended to establish his church in such a way that it was to be governed by Scripture alone (with leaders whose role was to interpret Scripture to the best of their abilities), or that he intended his church to be governed by leaders who, in some way and under certain conditions, were protected from error when exercising their authority?”

Here’s another:

All things being equal, which is more likely: that Jesus intended to establish his church in such a way that it was to be governed by pastors and elders who ministered and taught Scripture under the oversight of other church officers, or that he intended the church to be governed by a pastor in Rome (the city of the beast), far from the original churches in Jerusalem and Asia Minor where his chosen apostles labored?

That’s why we call them loaded questions (sort of like how would Jason know apart from Scripture of Christ establishing a church — oh wait, tradition — the pastor in Rome — told him).

The Husband W-w, the Wife W-w

Published on by D. G. Hart53 Comments

Do disagreements stem from antithetical w’ws? Toby Jenkins thinks so:

Ultimately, there really are only two worldviews: Does the created order belong to God to do with as He pleases, and therefore we should endeavor at every level to direct our culture and our pleasures and/or approvals in accord with His revealed holy precepts for life? Or, as the masters of our own destinies, should we live as though the assertion of ancient Greek naturalist philosopher Protagoras is true, namely that, “Man is the measure of all things”?

In that worldview, no one should try to impose his or her views on anyone else because everyone is free and responsible enough to do whatever he or she wants, “so long as it doesn’t harm me” (which, by the way, we all know is simply rationally and practically untenable).

Unfortunately, many of our individualistic 21st century peers naïvely assume that merely imagining we can live as such anthropological islands somehow magically trumps divine revelation’s accurate portrait of the solidarity of Old Testament Israel [Deut 28-30; Josh 7], the New Testament church [1 Cor 12-14], communities in general [Matt 12.25-26; Eph 4; Phil 4.2-3], and even all humanity [Rom 5]). What one person advocates will inescapably affect the community, despite the denial of the naïve.

Where one locates himself on the scale of these two worldview poles will determine how he interacts with any issue, whether it be broader matters such as politics, economics, or environment, or more specific and personal concerns like work ethic, family construct, health care, organizational affiliation, etc.

So what are a husband and wife to do when they have an argument?

Simply telling someone who doesn’t follow Jesus Christ that he or she is wrong and you disagree with his or her conclusions will usually only spark an unresolvable debate (not because the issue is unresolvable, but because the darkened anti-God, self-preserving mind will always ultimately reject holiness [Rom 8.7-8; Titus 1.15-16]).

True dat.

So, the discussion might be better served if you simply communicate to your conversation partner that you realize the ground from which you derive your perspective seems to be at odds with what grounds his or hers, and that the worldviews from which you take your opposing stances are obviously fundamentally different. You can even tell your friend that you realize you probably won’t reach a consensus because of that; but at least both of you will have the opportunity—whether or not that opportunity is seized with honesty—to examine your worldviews before the face of the thrice-holy God who would not have us grope around in darkness for how we should live.

Or perhaps we don’t try to press the metaphysical or epistemological issue all the time. Maybe I avoid attributing my wife’s point to her Satan. Maybe instead I simply look for a way to resolve the issue and find a way to live with a green wall in the bathroom. And perhaps if I compromise, or she does with me, it is not an instance of betraying Jesus.

Imagine That

Published on by D. G. Hart140 Comments

The rules that guide the church don’t extend beyond the church parking lot:

In reply to Joe Vusich’s article, in which he states that “all images of the divine Persons of the Trinity are sinful”, and that, “Historically, Reformed and Calvinist churches have taught that all images/statues/paintings of Jesus Christ (and of the Father and the Holy Spirit) are violations of the 2nd Commandment,” I would simply offer the following observations.

The Reformers’ attitude to the representational arts is well known in the worlds of both church and art history. All the Reformers were concerned with returning the Bible to a central place in the life of the Church in contrast with the centuries-long pattern of idolatry and superstition within the Roman Catholic Church. Given that art had sustained a pivotal role in facilitating the iconographical model of worship of Roman Catholicism, and had maintained a close relationship with false doctrine, the Reformers developed restrictive procedures on art, especially with regard to the use of images in worship.

Although they objected to the iconographical use of art in worship, Calvin and Zwingli were not against the use of art in other venues.

Calvin said, “I am not gripped by the superstition of thinking absolutely no images permissible, but because sculpture and paintings are gifts of God, I seek a pure and legitimate use of each” (Institutes, 1.11.12. Although Calvin clearly forbade the depiction of the “majesty of God”, that is, of Divinity, lest we tarnish his glory, he finds use for “historical” . . . “representation of events” for “The former are of some use for instruction or admonition” Institutes, 1.11.12).

And Zwingli, known for his extreme iconoclastic views, went as far as to permit the use of art in churches just as long as it was not used for the purposes of worship. He said “where anyone has a portrait of His humanity, that is just as fitting to have as to have other portraits.” Quoted in Charles Garside, Zwingli and the Arts (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1966), p. 182.

Not sure about all the details of this post. But it does show how readily 2k comes to most any reasonable Christian not caught in the grip of make-everything-Christian (especially the American, Scottish, or Dutch nation).

Heave an egg out of a Pullman and you will hit a Calvinist

Published on by D. G. Hart14 Comments

Mencken’s line about fundamentalism would now seem to apply to Calvinism:

ROBERT FAW, correspondent: From baptism by immersion to the fervent Bible-based preaching, Sojourn Community Church in Louisville, Kentucky, looks and sounds like many other Southern Baptist congregations. What you cannot see, however, is that this Baptist church is infused with Calvinism—the teachings of a 16th-century Swiss theologian, John Calvin, whose tenets were practiced by America’s Puritans in the 17th and 18th century. . . .

FAW: Professor Rhyne Putnam teaches at the New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary and says many young people are attracted to Calvinism.

PROFESSOR RHYNE PUTNAM: I think there’s a sense where you have a kind of comfort that God is in control of things. We have a generation that really longs to go into deeper analysis of theology and deeper analysis of biblical studies.

FAW: It’s more intellectual.

PUTNAM: Right, I think so. It tends to be a little bit more heady than some of the more affective and kind of emotive kind of preaching.

FAW: Another reason for the explosive growth: charismatic proponents and prolific authors like Dr. Albert Mohler.

MOHLER: Calvinism offers a theological understanding of culture that many other theological systems just do not offer. Here you have people who are saying, “I want to go all the way back to where i can find something stable.”

Oh, by the way, Calvinism is also political:

Gordon Graham, director of the Abraham Kuyper Center for Public Theology, linked to Princeton University’s theology seminar, sees other reasons for this revival. “Mainstream Christian churches have become weak by embracing progressive causes like abortion and same-sex marriage. Neo-Calvinism is an answer to this.”

According to Isabelle Graesslé, head of the International Museum of the Reformation in Geneva, Calvinism advocates an individual conversion, personal salvation and the power of the Holy Spirit. Some Calvinists even consider the World Council of Churches, based in Geneva, as “some sort of new Antichrist.”

Mistrust of the state

American Calvinism is, of course, not new. It was very much a part of the early history of the United States. Its influence was considerable as soon as the Pilgrim Fathers, the English puritans who had found refuge in the Netherlands, reached Massachusetts in the 17th century. They founded universities, including the Calvin College in Michigan. “Their intellectual relation to America had a real impact,” Gordon Graham notes. Many credit them with the famous American spirit of individualism, the work ethic and even the American dream.

Even though neo-Calvinists are not directly involved in politics, they tend to be opposed to big government, a state that is too intrusive. Graham, for example, says the Patriot Act, the anti-terrorism law adopted by Congress after 9/11, is thoroughly contrary to Calvinist principles.

“Every sphere of life obeys to the sovereignty of God,” Graham says. “Calvinists don’t like the state intervening to standardize everything or to monitor people.”

Needless to say, they were outraged to learn that the National Security Agency was monitoring the Internet activity and telephone conversations of innocent Americans.

So with Calvinism you get divine sovereignty, intellectual heft, cultural savvy, American patriotism, and male headship. If you want to grow Lutherans (or at least gain publicity), take note.

Does Meatloaf Inflame more than Oatmeal?

Published on by D. G. Hart9 Comments

The shoot-the-fish-in-the-barrel reaction to this story about an Episcopal priest encouraging Bible reading is to make some sort of crack about Episcopalians actually reading the Bible. In point of fact, the story actually demonstrates the relative hunger that many church-goers have for Scripture. It also shows how woeful the shepherding of believers is by too many clergy (mainline and evangelical) who can think of any number of authorities to substitute for Scripture in the care and feeding of God’s flock.

Whatever this priest’s effort may say about Episcopalians, he does confirm the point about the ordinary character of God’s extraordinary (read special) revelation. Consider the food analogy he uses:

. . . each reading program varies in the amount of New Testament, Old Testament and psalms that it includes.

Zabriskie explained that he consistently encourages this triad, because it is essential to remaining interested and focused in the reading.

“If you had to eat meatloaf for 15 days in a row, it would not be a fun event,” Zabriskie said, comparing the balanced program to a well-balanced meal. “But if you had a side salad that varied everyday – that’s the psalm – and a desert that was really good everyday – that’s the New Testament – you could probably stomach having to eat meatloaf 15 days in a row.”

I’m not sure if that is the way I’d think of the New Testament. Given how Peter writes about the difficulty of Paul’s epistles, the better analogy might be the bitter herbs of the Passover Meal. And considering the reason for this season, I’m not sure if bittersweet chocolate cake has sufficient bitterness to do justice to the cross or the sweetness to live up to an empty tomb. But the program teaches that some of the most wholesome and enjoyable things in life — like comfort food — are the dullest.