Author: D. G. Hart

Oldlife.org 101

Published on by D. G. Hart19 Comments

Regular readers of Oldlife likely don’t need any explanation about the nature of this site but those unfamiliar with the medium or genre of blogging may need some guidance on how to read the posts published here. Genre may sound like a high-faluttin’ word to affix to a blog, suggesting some kind of artifice or even art to the mode of communication. But genre is fitting if only because a blog is a different kind of communication from older forms of publishing and readers who look at a post as if it were another kind of publication may hurt themselves as well as the author (I’m thinking here of the lack of charity or benefit of the doubt that some readers of blogs display, thus raising questions not only about the virtue of the author but also about the motives of the reader).

A blog – at least as I read them and participate in several – is somewhere between a Facebook page and an editorial in a magazine. Blogging is almost entirely personal since the author is his own editor in most cases; no editorial staff or marketing department oversees the writing. A blog is also a forum for thinking out loud – “here is something I read or observed, and I thought I’d write about it and see what readers think.” Magazines are in themselves ephemeral. I used to save old copies of magazines but soon gave up after several moves not only owing to sloth (or declining strength as aging happens) but also because highlighted articles were not as pertinent at the time of the move as they were when saved. If magazines lack permanency, blogs do so even more.

In which case readers, readers should not take a blog too seriously. It is not only an ephemeral medium but often times the author’s thoughts are highly transitional – again, this is a way of thinking out loud. James K. A. Smith recently explained the tension between a blog author’s intentions and readers’ expectations during some flack he took for thoughts he wrote in passing about a review of Rob Bell:

Um, it’s a blog post people. I wrote it in 20 minutes one morning after reading another piece of dreck by Lauren Winner. If it’s stupid, why comment on it? (There is a huge laughable irony about charges of ressentiment in the ballpark here–you can work that out for yourself.) . . . .

I must have missed the memo about the requirements for writing a blog post. Apparently, according to the self-appointed police force of the theological blogosphere, one is not allowed to comment on a topic unless one has first completed a dissertation in the field. Who decided only specialists could speak? Is there a reading list everyone’s supposed to have mastered before they can comment on an issue?

In other words, if readers don’t want to see what an author is thinking about, they don’t need to read the blog. But if they do, they shouldn’t expect the thoughts posted to be ready for prime time.

A blog is like Facebook (such as I imagine since I am not networked) in that it invites comments and an informal exchange of views. For this blogger, the responses are an important facet of the medium because it functions as a built-in letters to the editor. And just as a post can go up immediately in response to a recent event or development, so readers may respond immediately. The immediacy and the responsiveness of blogging is what makes it valuable in my judgment, and unlike most other forms of publication. It is also what makes it ephemeral. Who will read a post about the Phillies’ 2008 championship three years from now and think it poignant. Of course, some blogs do not allow comments, and I do not understand the point since part of the nature of thinking out loud is to start a conversation and see what others think as well.

At the same time, a blog is not like a magazine in that it does not reproduce well articles or material requiring hard or sustained thought. Some magazines, of course, have on-line content. But this is simply a way of reading a magazine article on-line. But a blog is more like the op-ed portion of a magazine – actually more like a newspaper because a magazine takes at least a week to be published; the newspaper comes out daily (most often) and the blog may occur semi-daily. But when bloggers are tempted to post papers or talks given at conferences, they become almost unreadable. Such material needs to be printed out, read with pen or pencil in hand, and given sustained attention – not read for three minutes before checking email or stock quotes.

Truth be told that the Nicotine Theological Journal has been delayed considerably by the distraction of blogging. And the reason has to do with the nature and immediacy of the blog; an article that I might write for the NTJ is generally too long for a blog, and the immediacy of a blog makes it a more tempting medium than a journal to make one’s thoughts public. Why wait three months to print my latest critique of Keller when I can publish it TODAY!!! at Oldlife.org.

In other words, readers of blogs need to lighten up. And readers of Oldlife, the on-line version of the NTJ, would best be advised to light up when reading the blog. Here at a blog, the most fitting form of smoke, as ephemeral as the medium, is a cigarette. For the journal, best to light up a pipe or cigar.

Still Here and Disappointed to Be

Published on by D. G. Hart19 Comments

Back when many Americans were worried about the effects of changing from nineteen to twenty in the dates of computers’ operating systems I took some pleasure in observing how such care could turn into hysteria. I do not say this to my credit since it is unbecoming to take delight in the discomfort of others. But if Y2K was supposed to be as cataclysmic as the hawkers of bottled water, batteries, and dried beans said, then I figured there was not much hope for the Harts. Either we would die of starvation or gunshot wounds (after approaching a neighbor’s house in search of hospitality). But I knew we couldn’t stock enough food and water or fire wood to subsist longer than it would take to patch back together the world’s highly centralized network of computers, information, and commodities.

So to make light of the situation, I found a soup recipe for dried navy beans and prepared an article for the Nicotine Theological Journal in which I advised those Y2K preparers who had acquired too many bags of beans and too many cases of bottled water how to use the recipe to begin to reduce the piles of subsistence provisions stacked in their basements. I still regard this piece as one of the more funny in the history of the NTJ, but at the time I confess that I wrote with a sense of nervous amusement. I had heard enough predictions about the problem of changing digits within operating systems to be relatively certain that Y2K was a hoax. I sure hoped it was, and I sure thought it would be funny – all that stockpiling for end-of-civilization living – if it turned out to be. But I was sufficiently chary to be denied genuine hilarity until the morning of January 1, 2000 when I woke up to find that the coffee maker worked, the computer booted up, and the car started.

Judgment Day 2011 has invited lots of people, Christian and not, to engage in the kind of ridicule I experienced at the time of Y2K. Predictions about May 21, 2011 even caught the attention of sports-talk-radio hosts who framed questions running the gamut of audience demographics from which woman listeners would most want to sleep with before the end of the world – more the spirit of Fat Tuesday than that of preparation for meeting one’s maker – or which injured member of the Phillies should start the last game before the rapture. As risible as the prediction of the last chance for saving faith before divine retribution was, I was also wary and less than confident that Harold Camping was wrong. I was especially wide awake around 5:52 pm last Saturday as I drove east on I 80 in Pennsylvania and listened to a story on NPR about the pet care service offered to those believers who would leave their cats and dogs to be with the Lord. Not only did I experience a measure of disgust at the thought of people profiting from this prediction as well as the gullibility of rapture believers. But I also worried what road conditions would be like should Camping turn out to be right and I was left behind.

The problems with Judgment Day 2011, as compared to Y2K, are more numerous and go beyond feelings of apprehension, gullibility, charity, or disgust. I was convinced that Camping was wrong to pick a date. I still find it hard to believe that people would listen to his apocalyptic siren call after he got it wrong seventeen years ago, though I’m sure Camping had and still has a numerological explanation. I was also pretty certain that Camping was mistaken about the mechanics of Christ’s greeting his saints. I had grown up in a dispensationalist church and was familiar with the idea of a rapture, and I spent too many long nights without sleep after watching the movie “Thief In the Night.” But since I am a bit of an agnostic about the specifics of how human history will end, I couldn’t be certain that a rapture was completely out of order.

But what would happen if judgment day didn’t, especially to the devoted who had prepared for the end of the world in a very different way from Y2K? I do grieve for those believers who went to bed Saturday night seriously disappointed and wonder if they still trusted God after such a let down. I hoped that they would find genuine rest and comfort and take some hope from attending the means of grace on the following Lord’s Day. Maybe these sad saints would go back to the churches they had left behind when Camping condemned the institutional churches as apostate.

And what about Family Radio stations? Did they have programming planned and loaded into computers to keep going after the rapture? Or would the stations be silent? Would the Family Radio website still be up? And did the executives of Family Radio contract with some broadcasting version of Eternal Earth-Bound Pets to insure that some unbelieving radio engineers and website administrators would be available to keep their broadcasts and Internet sites going?

But I was most curious about my own reaction (all about me, right?). When I was an eleven-year old and the Israeli’s were beating the dickens out of the Arabs during the Six-Day War, my congregation heard lots about the end of the world. After all, “signs of the times” were indicating that the Lord’s return was any day. As a budding adolescent I was deeply disappointed by the news. I still had yet to experience dating, driving, high school, and marriage and sex were at least a decade away. I wasn’t sufficiently sanctified to consider that a day with the Lord might even be better than a night of conjugal bliss.

But Judgment Day 2011 had a very different effect, possibly the signs of middle-age or maybe an indication of spiritual growth. I personally wanted Camping to be right. Of course, I still have projects going and plans for time with family and friends that I would regret to see unfulfilled. But since I do pray often the Lord’s prayer, and since the second petition calls for us to pray for the hastening of the kingdom of glory, I don’t think that believers should necessarily find unbelievable the idea that Christ is coming on a specific day. The specification itself is wrong, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Camping could turn out to be right even if his method and tactics were wrong. Wouldn’t it be one of the great ironies – and redemptive history is filled with such reversals of human expectations – if the end of the world did in fact happen in an amillenial way rather than in a dispensationalist manner on May 21? After all, no one knows the time or the hour, which means that Camping still could have been wrong and that Christ could have come on May 21 without a rapture. Plus, Christians are supposed to hope for the Lord’s return, so could I really root against Camping? And what of those who jeered Noah, John the Baptist, or even Christ himself during his first advent? I didn’t want to be guilty of human expectations that put Christ into a box that would prove Camping and his followers to be a charlatan and boobs.

So here we are on May 23, Family Radio is still broadcasting (though I haven’t heard any explanations yet), and the website is still up though the numbers counting down the days until the end of the world are gone and the entire website has received a facelift. Sports-talk-radio hosts are still commenting on what they did or did not do on Saturday evening – one suggested to friends at 5:55 pm drinking up since a rapture would mean not having to pay the bar tab (a patently illogical piece of wisdom since if the drinkers kept drinking they would not have been raptured and would face the judgment of settling their bar tab). Some people are breathing a sigh of relief, others are still scratching their heads over the gullibility of Christians and their strange ways of interpreting the Bible. And some, if they are like me, are disappointed that the day for which believers are supposed to long, and the joy that will take place at the marriage supper of the Lamb, did not happen. Instead, it is back to work, plans, friends, family, vacations, paying bills, changing litter boxes, mowing grass, and sipping overpriced coffee. We live in a good world, but oh how much better the world to come will be.

Taking Every Cat Captive

Published on by D. G. Hart12 Comments

Partly to help out a friend, and also to acknowledge the pleasant companionship of our two felines, Isabelle and Cordelia, I reprint below a piece from the Spring 2009 issue of the Nicotine Theological Journal that followed the death of my first and my wife’s favorite pet, Skippie. Despite all their charms, our current cat models cannot compare with the original article. But thankfully they are a pleasant ectype of the archetype.

Soulless but Spirit-Filled

The first time I took notice of pet-death grief was when I ran into a cynical, sarcastic, and thoroughly unsentimental friend during a late night visit to the market for milk. He was clearly down – not full of the one-liners or antics that characterized his banter. When I asked what was wrong, this scruffy hard-edged man began to choke up. He explained that his family’s pet dog – some mix with strong German Shepherd lines – had died.

I was dumbfounded. Not only could I barely process the disparity between this emotional response and my friend’s normal demeanor, but I also had trouble understanding such affection for an animal. Granted, I had no pets growing up and so the experience was foreign. Still, as a person who took delight in all sorts of dogs and cats, and who always intended to acquire one once housing circumstances would allow, I was not completely without emotions for dogs or cats. I had cried as a kid over Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, and even Flipper.

Little did I realize then that the cat with whom my wife and I were then sharing space when my friend’s dog died would have a similar effect on me. When we put her down after eighteen years, I knew exactly how my seemingly cold friend felt. My wife and I cried for days, only consoled by memories.

Of course, people anthropomorphize pets in ways that hypothetical Martians would find strange. (One also wonders what the angels think.) And the effort to detect human ways and feelings in a cat can be as pathetic as sentimental. But even after discounting the human propensity for making creation and its occupants conform to man and his ways, the bond between pets and their care givers (“owner” implies a contractual relationship) is natural and even healthy. And it need not trespass into the eery world of pet cemeteries, the resurrection of pets, or even pet heaven. (Why do people never posit a pet hell? I guess that is where Michael Vick will go.)

Our pet’s remains now lie underneath a couple feet of sand and dirt, and a big piece of slate next to the home where she lived the longest with her peripatetic companions. Skippah arguably had the prettiest face and eyes of any feline we had seen (a faux Maine Coon), and at a playing weight of roughly seven pounds her entire life (except for the end when she dipped below four), she matched her beauty with an elegantly petite frame and bushy tail. She was always solicitous of sun light and at night the warmth of a lap or a lamp would have to suffice. Now what remains of her after six months is likely only bones and fur. Her material existence is virtually nil.

After she died the most palpable feeling was that of emptiness. How could such a little creature fill a three-story town house? It was as if we had removed a big couch from the front room. Upon walking into the home, we immediately detected the hole of not having another living being in the house. This emptiness was not confined to a room or space. The difference pervaded the entire house, from the basement, which was off limits to Skip, to the third floor where she only occasionally slept. In fact, comparing the loss of a pet to a favorite piece of furniture graphically highlighted the spiritual dimension of pet-having, and gave a measure of plausibility to human affection for, in H. L. Mencken’s terms, “domesticated live stock.”

A man may have many warm feelings for a recliner. He may recall watching a favorite team’s championship from the cushion afforded in that chair. He may remember watching his son take his first steps as a toddler. He may even look at various stains on the upholstery and recollect any number of juicy sandwiches or bowls of ice cream consumed from that comfortable seat. But a chair, no matter how many cushions and levers make it a part of one’s domestic delights, is inanimate. It has no life, no personality, no will. Its qualities are fixed and those can be arranged to suit the needs and pleasures of the sitter. The recliner does not change its user. When it wears out, the sitter will find another comfortable chair in which to enjoy reading, watching, smoking, conversing, and eating.

An animal is palpably different. It has a spirit and a personality and these features differ not only from inanimate objects but also from other critters of the same species. A companion of a pet must make allowances for the willfulness of the creature, from managing a cat’s waste to determining whether to leave flowers on the dining room table (and risk an overturned vase and harmful puddle of water). Some of this willfulness can easily be annoying. Even so, the point is that a creature with no more claim to a soul than a much beloved piece of furniture has a spirit and disposition that make it much more like a man or woman, boy or girl than an inanimate object or even a plant. In fact, the remains of a pet have no real use, but the parts of a chair could be turned into other useful objects. (Anyone for a neck tie made from the upholstery to honor the recliner’s memory?)

So even if an animal has no soul, even if it cannot worship its maker, even if it will not be resurrected either for eternal life or destruction – even if it is an it – it is way more spiritual than many of the creations with which humans share the planet. The proof text for this assertion comes from Psalm 49, a passage providentially read the Lord’s Day before we said good-bye to our beloved Skip. Twice in that Psalm of the Sons of Korah comes the refrain, “Man cannot abide in his pomp, he is like the beasts that perish.” On the one hand, this comparison is not meant to convey good news about the happy, well fed, and powerful man who, without his possessions has as much to fall back on as an animal. On the other hand, it does liken an animal to man, the crown of the created order. Granted, the beast is only as good as man without his dignity. But that is obviously an upgrade from those parts of creation without souls or spirits.

The consolation for those who lived with her is that Skip was full of spirit, an endless source of delight, and so fully worthy of affection. The anguish is that the object of our fancy no longer has the spirit that made her so adorable.

Hate the Sin, Demonize the Sinner?

Published on by D. G. Hart133 Comments

Shameless self-promotion alert: a post I wrote for First Things’ blog “On the Square” about the recent vote within the Presbyterian Church U.S.A. on the ordination of sexually active gays and lesbians prompted me to reflect on a point that I could not include because of space constraints.

One of the responses from a joyous Presbyterian to the news that gays and lesbians could now be ordained in the PCUSA (though the constitutional process forward is anything but clear) was to the effect that homosexuals could be regarded as normal, or better as moral. Instead of regarding homosexuality as inherently perverted, the recent presbytery votes indicated, to this happy observer, that mainline Presbyterians are more willing than before to see that within the spectrum of homosexuality are standards that run the gamut from virtue to sexual license. In other words, a gay man can be part of a committed relationship and faithful to his partner, or he can live like most young men – gay or straight. The important consideration, accordingly, is not the sexual practice or orientation per se but whether a person pursues these acts modestly and responsibly.

I appreciate this distinction, especially since fans of The Wire are forced to confront a similar ethical dilemma in countless of the series’ characters. Jimmy McNulty doesn’t follow the chain of command within the police force but he is really trying to bring criminals to justice. Omar steals from drug lords but he has an honor code that only allows him to retaliate for just reasons. Avon Barksdale makes millions of dollars in dealing drugs and destroys many lives but is a man committed to his family (and only gives up family members for justifiable reasons).

In other words, the reality of the fall is that sinners are human beings and they do wicked things even while they retain the image of God in ways that endear them to friends, family, and writers.
This also means that sinners are not monsters. “Monster” was the word I heard repeatedly on CNN when the perky evening news anchor (I never once found her attractive, really!) interviewed various officials about the significance of Mr. Laden’s death. She kept referring to Mr. Laden as a “monster.”

This way of demonizing evil helps may help to make better sense of how ordinary people can commit such heinous acts. If we can simply chalk them up as deranged or as inhuman then we have a ready explanation for their wickedness and don’t have to reflect upon the extent of the fall.

But such demonization also shelters us from recognizing the sinfulness that afflicts each and everyone one of us. If only monsters commit wicked acts, and if I am not a monster, then I must not be so bad after all. Whew!

In reality, sin does not turn human beings into monsters. Some of the most evil figures in human history such as Adolf Hitler were real people with feelings, loyalties, reason, and virtues (see Downfall). In which case, the standard for sin is not the degree to which a person is a human being or a monster, but whether his or her acts conforms to the law of God.

Plenty of gays and lesbians are great people or characters (think Omar), and many are likely involved in very caring, faithful, and committed relationships. But none of this excuses the nature of homosexuality, nor avoids what the Bible (in the case of the PCUSA) reveals about sexual relations.

Putting the Super in Superficial

Published on by D. G. Hart102 Comments

John Fea links to this amusing video.

The mocking of small groups aside — and remember that we have pietists to thank for this odd form of Christian piety — I do wonder what would happen to the dynamics of a group like this if you introduced a Presbyterian elder (not to be confused the the Mormon variety) into the mix. To help answer that question, here’s how the OPC’s Form of Government describes the work of an elder:

1. Christ who has instituted government in his church has furnished some men, beside the ministers of the Word, with gifts for government, and with commission to execute the same when called thereto. Such officers, chosen by the people from among their number, are to join with the ministers in the government of the church, and are properly called ruling elders.

2. Those who fill this office should be sound in the faith and of exemplary Christian life, men of wisdom and discretion, worthy of the esteem of the congregation as spiritual fathers.

3. Ruling elders, individually and jointly with the pastor in the session, are to lead the church in the service of Christ. They are to watch diligently over the people committed to their charge to prevent corruption of doctrine or morals. Evils which they cannot correct by private admonition they should bring to the notice of the session. They should visit the people, especially the sick, instruct the ignorant, comfort the mourning, and nourish and guard the children of the covenant. They should pray with and for the people. They should have particular concern for the doctrine and conduct of the minister of the Word and help him in his labors.

The least that can be said is that an elder should be expected to refer to small group attendees as other than “dude” or “dudette.”

Turning the Gospel Promise into a Law Threat

Published on by D. G. Hart31 Comments

Speaking of matters missional. . .

I am struck by the motivation that missions proponents sometimes use to justify their efforts. Having grown up in a faith mission environment, I have some familiarity with the ploys designed to generate gifts for missions and even cajole youth into full-time Christian service. As a kid even I thought some of the tactics were manipulative. But recent reading in the work of Alexander Duff (1806-1878), who was the first modern Presbyterian missionary, the Church of Scotland’s own ambassador to India — Presbyterianism’s William Carey as it were, has prompted me to think that much of the modern movement for overseas evangelism has employed what appear to be dubious arguments. The following comes from Duff’s Missions The Chief End of the Christian Church (1839):

It thus appears abundantly manifest from multiplied Scripture evidence, that the chief end for which the Christian Church is constituted—the leading design for which she is made the repository of heavenly blessings—the great command under which she is laid—the supreme function which she is called on to discharge—is, in the name and stead of her glorified Head and Redeemer, unceasingly, to act the part of an evangelist to all the world. The inspired prayer which she is taught to offer for spiritual gifts and graces, binds her, as the covenanted condition on which they are bestowed at all, to dispense them to all nations. The divine charter which conveys to her the warrant to teach and preach the Gospel at all, binds her to teach and preach it to all nations. The divine charter which embodies a commission to administer Gospel ordinances at all, binds her to administer these to all nations. The divine charter which communicates power and authority to exercise rule or discipline at all, binds her to exercise these, not alone or exclusively, to secure her own internal purity and peace, union and stability; but chiefly and supremely, in order that she may thereby be enabled the more speedily, effectually, and extensively, to execute her grand evangelistic commission in preaching the Gospel to all nations.

If, then, any body of believers united together as a Church, under whatever form of external discipline and polity, do, in their individual, or congregational, or corporate national capacity, wilfully and deliberately overlook, suspend, or indefinitely postpone, the accomplishment of the great end for which the Church universal, including every evangelical community, implores the vouchsafement of spiritual treasures—the great end for which she has obtained a separate and independent constitution at all,—how can they, separately or conjointly, expect to realize, or realizing, expect to render abiding, the promised presence of Him who alone hath the keys of the golden treasury, and alone upholds the pillars of the great spiritual edifice? If any Church, or any section of a Church, do thus neglect the final cause of its being, and violate the very condition and tenure of all spiritual rights and privileges, how can it expect the continuance of the favour of Him from whom alone, as their Divine fount and springhead, all such rights and privileges must ever flow? And, if deprived of His favour and presence, how can any Church expect long to exist, far less spiritually to flourish, in the enjoyment of inward peace, or the prospect of outward and more extended prosperity? (pp. 13-14)

I am not convinced, as valuable as foreign missions are, that threatening the church with a revocation of God’s favor is wise. Worse, I don’t believe it is true. But it is curious to see how old this kind of appeal is.

What is also worth highlighting is Duff’s account of Reformed Protestantism several pages later, since he has to acknowledge that the Reformation did not show an interest in non-European pagans and so did not measure up to the ideal of the true church. Because the Reformation was “itself a grand evangelistic work” by which the Spirit “put it into the hearts of an enlightened few, to arise and make an ‘aggressive movement’ on the unenlightened many, by whom they were every where surrounded,” Duff is at liberty to approve of sixteenth century Protestants. But when it comes to efforts of the Covenanters and the remnant of Presbyterians who tried to avoid compromise with the politics of episcopacy, the crown, or parliament, Duff (who was a student of Thomas Chalmers and would take sides with the Free Church during the Disruption of 1843) is not so approving:

When, after the Reformation, the Protestant Church arose, as by a species of moral resurrection, with newborn energies, from the deep dark grave of Popish ignorance and superstition,—then, was she in an attitude to have gone forth in the spirit of her own prayers, and in obedience to the Divine command, on the spiritual conquest of the nations,—and, in the train of every victory, scatter as her trophies, the means of grace, and as her plentiful heritage, the hopes of a glorious immortality. But instead of thus fulfilling the immutable law of her constitution,—instead of going forth in a progress of outward extension, and onward aggression, with a view to consummate the great work which formed at once the eternal design of her Head, and the chief end of her being :—the Church seemed mainly intent on turning the whole of her energies inward on herself. Her highest ambition and ultimate aim seemed to be, to have herself begirt as with a wall of fire that might devour her adversaries—to have her own privileges fenced in by laws and statutes of the realm—to hare her own immunities perpetuated to posterity by solemn leagues and covenants. (p. 22)

I’m not sure what the point of this is other than to suggest that since 1800 we have always had the missionally minded and manifesto affirming with us. But because of the ways in which proponents of missions can threaten by inducing guilt, those with questions about the methods, if not the content, of foreign missions (especially non-denominational kinds) have to prove their innocence before raising their concerns.

First Marx, Now Keller?

Published on by D. G. Hart31 Comments

The word “manifesto” strikes me as an odd one to attach to the idea of evangelism and missions, but the Missional Manifesto has now entered the parlance of our times, alphabetized several lines below the Communist Manifesto. I myself don’t have the energy to devote to the latest of Keller-sponsored cooperative endeavors – I have a hard enough time keeping up with all the doings of the Gospel Coalition. But I do wonder if our brothers and sisters in the PCA take notice of the liabilities of Keller’s efforts as much as they applaud his obvious assets. (Tim Bayly, David Bayly, Hello?)

Helping out on this score is Wes White who noted the publication of the Missional Manifesto and gave his readers the chance to discuss its merits. One comment by Bill Schweitzer was particularly astute:

Another worrying aspect of the missional movement would be the holistic nature of the gospel. This involves a rejection of the “modernist” concept of individual salvation of sinners in favour of a comprehensive gospel of cultural transformation. This is articulated in the manifesto in point 8:

8. Duality: We believe the mission and responsibility of the church includes both the proclamation of the Gospel and its demonstration. From Jesus, we learn the truth is to be proclaimed with authority and lived with grace. The church must constantly evangelize, respond lovingly to human needs, as well as ”seek the welfare of the city” (Jeremiah 29:7).

The idea is that the verbal proclamation alone is only half the picture. But here the movement verges a little too close to an old enemy of the verbal proclamation, the Social Gospel. Listen as the editor of an essay collection on “The Social Gospel Today” summarizes the thought of the “Father of the Social Gospel,” Walter Rauschenbusch:

…he argued that a gospel of individual salvation is a half gospel, for the gospel had social dimensions as well. He pointed out that Jesus continued the call of the prophets for justice and mercy by proclaiming the coming kingdom of God in which unconditional love would eventually triumph over all obstacles in society. Rauschenbusch called on the church to respond to Jesus’ call for bringing in the kingdom of God and to struggle for its realization.” (Christopher H. Evans, The Social Gospel Today xiii)

As far as I know, Rauschenbusch never called for an end to the verbal proclamation of the gospel for individual salvation. Rather, he simply sought to restore what he thought to be the “other half” of the gospel, which is social action (in terms of justice and mercy.) Yet we know how that story ended. Dual mandates do not typically remain equal partners for long, and the call to include social action soon enough became a practical exclusion of the verbal proclamation. Perhaps, therefore, we should think more carefully before we define the Great Commission as a dual mandate involving both word and deed. In conclusion, I can only agree with Frank: however much other things might be lawful or even commanded by Scripture, the Great Commission itself is a single mandate for making disciples through the ordinary means of grace. (Mat 28:18-19)

Chances are that little will come of this manifesto. Does anyone actually remember the Evangelical Manifesto? But I’m glad to know some folks in the PCA are alert.

Should Regeneration Make Christians Wiser?

Published on by D. G. Hart18 Comments

One week after Mr. Laden’s death, different websites are taking the pulse of readers to see what they think. Two that came my way by way of email were polls conducted by Christianity Today and the History News Network. I have to say that judging the polls simply on the basis of their questions, the folks without (or with hidden) religious conviction come closer to ascertaining the significance of Mr. Laden’s death than the folks who are born-again.

Here is CT’s set of questions:

What is your reaction to the death of Osama bin Laden? (check all that apply)

I am thrilled he is dead.

Justice is served.

I am less excited than I thought I would be.

I am concerned about the overly jubilant reactions.

I wish he had been brought to trial.

There are still evil people in the world.

Something else

This is how HNN framed their poll:

In the late 1990s Osama Bin Laden declared war on the United States. In 2001 he ordered the 9/11 attack. Now he’s dead. What impact will his death have?

Question 1: How big an event is this?
Marks the end of terrorism against us.
Marks the beginning of the end.
Won’t have much of an impact.

Question 2:
Are you worried about a retaliatory attack?
Worried a lot.
Worried a little.
Not worried at all.

Question 3:
Show pictures of his corpse to prove he’s dead?
Yes.
No.

Question 4:
This will unite us again.
For a short while at least.
For a long while.
Not much at all.

Question 5:
Obama deserves credit for bin Laden’s death.
Yes.
No.
Not sure.

Question 6:
This will help Obama win in 2012
Yes.
No.
Not Sure.

Given evangelicalism’s dependence on the conversion experience, I should not be surprised that Christianity Today asked so many questions about its readers’ feelings. But what on earth does a Christian’s reaction to Mr. Laden’s death have to do with the terrorist organization he funded and ran, or with the peace and security of this world’s societies? As for this event’s theological significance, perhaps the pollsters at Christianity Today could have assessed evangelical beliefs about hell and universalism by posing questions about Mr. Laden in the light of Rob Bell’s new book.

Pastor 2K to Tim Keller's Rescue

Published on by D. G. Hart97 Comments

The watchdogs of Redeemer Church in NYC have noted Tim Keller’s response to questions in a public forum about homosexuality and gay marriage. The exchange came at the end of the interview and according to the Bayly’s transcribing powers went like this:

Lauren Green (interviewer): As a church, how should we as Christians and how should the church view gay rights and gay marriage?

Tim Keller: The Minister of the Word: Ha! I would definitely say this is time to come to a conclusion! (Laughter).

I would definitely say… a thoughtful Christian Biblical response doesn’t fit into any of the existing categories out there. It’s not a simple matter of saying there should be no moral differentiation between any kind of sexual activity. Christians can’t go there–they can’t say, “no it doesn’t matter.”

It’s also true however, that this is a country where we’re supposed to love our neighbor. This is a country where a Christian is supposed to care about a just society for ALL our neighbors whether they believe like we do or not. And that’s gotta mean our gay neighbor.

And I would say people in the more conservative movement don’t really want to talk too much about that because they’re very upset because they feel like the gay agenda is too anti-Christian and too anti-religious.

So I would say–the reason it’s good to end on this question is–it’s not something, the way forward, I don’t see spelled out anywhere in public. I don’t see anybody in public taking all the Biblical concerns about justice and mercy in that area and speaking about them. But I’m certainly not going to get started.

Just to let you know I don’t really think the current options out there–about what we should do–are really the best ones from a Christian standpoint.

The Baylys have tagged this post as “two kingdom, spirituality of the church,” which is interesting because if Keller were truly a two-kingdom fellow he would not have has a hard a time answering this question as this interview suggests. What follows, then, are a few pointers to both the Baylys and to Keller on how a 2k pastor – in New York City, no less — might answer questions about the Ten Commandments:

Reporter: What does your church think about the first commandment?

Pastor 2k: We do not tolerate the worship of Allah in our church, but in a free society many members of our church would support religious liberty for peoples of all faiths and as a session we do not believe that his conflicts with their profession of faith.

Reporter: What does your church teach about the second commandment?

Pastor 2k: Well, we forbid images of God – including Jesus – at our church, but many in our congregation are supporters of the Metropolitan Museum of Art which has many depictions of Jesus and the Holy Spirit and again our session does not believe it is a sin to go to museums and see such art.

Reporter: What is your church’s policy on the third commandment?

Pastor 2k: We exhort our members not to use God’s name flippantly, or as an expletive, but many of our members go to movies where Christ’s name is taken in vain and no one on the session is forcing them to repent. Some of them also listen to Rush Limbaugh whom I gather sometimes uses the words “damn” and “hell.” While we wish Mr. Limbaugh would not use such words, our session does not forbid members from listening to conservative talk radio.

Reporter: How does your church implement the fourth commandment?

Pastor 2k: We teach that all our members should avoid all forms of work on Sundays, unless they are in vocations such as the law enforcement, medicine, or public utilities. But we are not looking for the implementation of Blue Laws, again owing to the diversity of faiths and peoples who populate the United States and New York City.

Reporter: What does your church consider to be the obligations of the fifth commandment?

Pastor 2k: We do teach our members to submit to Mayor Bloomberg even if they prefer Rudy Guliani’s administration, but we are not about to endorse any party or set of candidates for the government of New York City.

Reporter: What does your church think about the sixth commandment?

Pastor 2k: We teach that murder is a sin, and that even hate is a violation of the sixth commandment – a spiritual hate crime if you will – but we are not about to go out to Citibank Stadium and tell the Mets fans to give a brotherly kiss to the Phillies fans who come up to see their team play. Please get real.

Reporter: What does your church teach about the seventh commandment?

Pastor 2k: We believe that homosexuality is a sin – as is pornography, adultery, and any form of sexual activity outside marriage. But again we recognize that the state cannot legislate Christian morality, even if some of our members are very concerned about the public policy implications of our currently licentious society. We try to make sure that our own members are living lives that conform to the teachings of Scripture. How the rest of Americans live their lives is not our church’s responsibility even though we proclaim all of God’s word weekly and publicly and call upon all New Yorkers to repent and believe.

Reporter: What is your church’s practice on the eighth commandment?

Pastor 2k: We believe that stealing is wrong but we are not convinced as a session that high tax rates are a form of robbery.

Reporter: How does your church handle the ninth commandment?

Pastor 2k: We do require our members to defend the honor of fellow members and their neighbors. But we also believe that if we name sins, address all people as sinners, and call them to repentance, we are not dishonoring their good names or reputations.

Reporter: What does your church do with the tenth commandment?

Pastor 2k: We teach our members and visitors to be content with their station in life and not envy the prosperity of others. This did not lead us to warn our members away from watching the royal wedding.

2k is complicated, but it doesn’t tie its pastors in knots.

What Bushy Top and Stringer Bell Might Teach Us About Mr. Laden

Published on by D. G. Hart240 Comments

After saying my morning prayers (see, I am devout), tending to the livestock, and fixing the coffee, I tuned into my favorite radio show (my wife’s most hated) to learn not only that Phillies had lost but that Osama Bin Laden had lost his life. To hear sports-talk radio hosts commenting on life, death, and terrorism was obviously strange, though they would have also been my path to news of 9-11 if streaming audio were available back in the dark days of Windows XP.

But even stranger and more inappropriate was to listen to sports fans chime in with glee about Mr. Laden’s death. To treat this man’s execution and burial like another Joe Blanton loss is clearly not fitting. What the event seems to call for is a ceremony – akin to the one in which President participated at the National Cathedral after 9/11. My Old Life sensibility tempts me to conclude that our culture cannot ceremonialize the death of a national enemy because we are no longer a ceremonial culture – too much Praise & Worship worship. But this would be a cheap shot in the worship wars. What is actually the case is that human beings have a long history of celebrating an enemy’s death in a manner more appropriate to a sporting even. Just think of what the Italians did to Mussolini. The communist Partisans captured him, executed him, and then hung him by his feet in a public square in Milano where the locals proceeded to jeer and throw rocks. Don’t underestimate human vindictiveness.

But don’t underestimate either the dark side of this bright moment in this chapter in the chronicles of justice. Since I have been re-watching Season Three of The Wire – the season where the fate of the drug lords, Stringer Bell and Avon Barksdale is settled – I have thought about the events of last night through the lens of human frailty so brilliantly depicted in that award-winning HBO series.

First, I heard on NPR that one of the oddities about Mr. Laden’s compound was that such a massive and expensive place would not have either internet or phone service. Boy, does that have The Wire written all over it. To evade the special unit given the task of catching Avon, which had used a fairly sophisticated system of wire taps, even to be able to track disposable phones, the head of the entire drug enterprise went without a phone altogether. To contact him, people had to talk to his minions, or executive minions. Mr. Laden didn’t need to be a fan of The Wire to see the logic of going without electronic communication, but sometimes life does imitate art.

Second, if Mr. Laden were an American citizen selling drugs or directing terror, chances are the authorities would not have had the freedom to kill him on sight. Their first action would have been to capture him, read him his rights, and then start the wheels of U.S. jurisprudence rolling – which might involve some roughing up behind closed doors in police office buildings. But if Mr. Laden were like Avon, he would likely still be alive (if he did not resist arrest).

Third, what kind of strategy did the American military use in killing Mr. Laden? In The Wire the mayor and police chief are often more interested in symbolic victories – declines in statistics, or drugs piled on tables for journalists to see and photograph – than the real source of the problem. In other words, they are more interested in winning re-election than in strategic allocation of resources. In which case, was Mr. Laden a target of military and intelligence officials? Or was he a trophy for administrators in the Pentagon to maintain budgets and for the White House to look tough on terror?

Another layer in managing the publicity of Mr. Laden’s death is the relationship among the United States, its Western and middle-Eastern allies, and Pakistan. Military and civilian authorities are choosing their words carefully to prevent embarrassment for the Pakistanis. What The Wire’s police chief Burrell says to his Colonels is different from what he says to the mayor behind closed doors which is different from what Burrell says to the press. Another instance of personal, professional, and civic calculations is Tommy Carcetti’s decision to run for mayor of Baltimore. As one of the few white councilmen in the city, the only shot he has to defeat the black incumbent is if another black councilman runs in the Democratic primary and splits the African-American vote, thereby letting Tommy emerge as the great white hope – who even during the mayoral campaign is calculating how to manage city politics in a way that will allow him to run for state (governor) and or federal (senator) office. Celebrators should not let Mr. Laden’s death prevent them from seeing the layers of interests – what the Coen brothers do when exploring the mixed motives of their characters – that inform presidents, generals, chiefs of staff, kings, ministers of parliament and journalists in their massaging of, taking credit for, or distancing from this event.

Last, celebrators should remember the experience of Bushy Top, Jimmy McNulty, once he finally hit his target. Jimmy had to do some real soul searching about whether he was going after Avon and Stringer for the sake of the city, his commander, or personal fulfillment – colleagues did tell him he needed to get a life. To the degree that his own identity was bound up with convicting one of B&B Enterprises’ co-owners, Jimmy also saw how incomplete he was. The defeat of Avon and Stringer turned out to be a thin reed on which to hang Jimmy’s search for meaning. The death of Mr. Laden will generate great ebullience. Americans should beware of the rapid and scary descent on the other side of this roller coaster ride.

What in anyway does any of this have to do with Reformed faith and practice? In keeping with the neo-Puritan insistence on application, the theological payoff of a Wired reading of Mr. Laden’s death is this: although the Bible teaches human depravity God’s word doesn’t really explore it in its amazing and complicated depth – as in the wickedness that clings to the best of human actions – the way that productions like The Wire do, or the Coen Brothers’ movies, or even the occasional French film like Jean de Florette. To be alert to the variety and tenacity of human sinfulness, you need to look at the poignant portrayals of human existence that come from some of the best artistic expressions (though the Old Testament has its moments).

What the Bible does teach is the remedy for sin. Its salvation is not a government that enforces God’s law or even that reinforces the rule of law, as good as those forms of rule may be. The only remedy is a savior whose work of redemption is so amazing that he could even, pending faith and repentance, save Mr. Laden from his obvious sin.