Moses, The Pope, and Evangelicals

What do you think God thinks about John Piper? Some times, often times, I think we think that since certain pastors have huge followings; that this is a sign that somehow this particular preacher/teacher has beenย anointedย of God in a special way. In the Calvary Chapel movement (a movement essentially founded by Chuck Smith out of Costa Mesa/Santa Ana, CA—I attended there for awhile), they follow what is known as the “Moses model;” wherein the senior (nowadays “lead”) pastor is known to have a special anointing of God on them and their ministry—much like Moses (this is a self conscious designation and model that is intentionally followed within many Calvary Chapels). The result is that if someone wanted to question a doctrinal point that someone like Chuck Smith might hold and articulate; then that person is not simply questioning the man, Chuck Smith. But that person is questioning God’s anointed (and thus God) himself! I think there is transference to this model of ministry (and theory of authority) along most of the continuum of what we know as Evangelical Christianity in America. I think John Piper has come to carry, for many, Moses’ anointing; so that if someone wants to question John Piper’s teaching, then that someone is now questioning God’s anointed and anointing. The Pope could be said to be someone who has Moses’ anointing too; couldn’t he?

The Feminist Doctrine of Vicariousness in Liberation Theology

Christian Kettler in his ‘The Vicarious Humanity of Christ and the Reality of Salvation’ has this to say about how ‘Vicariousness’ works in the Liberation Theology of Latin American theologian Leonardo Boff:

Christ is the absolute mediator, being both God and human (I Tim. 2:5) yet this absolute meditation does not rule out “the mediations of his sisters and brothers. Rather it grants them, penetrates them, confers upon them their raison d’ รชtre.” The most immediate mediation in the light of Christ is that of the Blessed Virgin Mary. She answers the question “How does the feminine reveal God? And from the opposite direction, How is God revealed in the feminine?” As the “Mediator of All Graces” the mediation of Mary has, of course, been prominent in traditional Catholic theology. But because modernity has chosen to define itself as “logocentric”, i.e. “to assign primacy of the spirit to rationality and the power of ideas,” a profoundly masculinizing tendency, the feminine has become “marginalized” along with the distinctive traits of the feminine: “purity, self-sacrifice, and the protection of the weak and the oppressed.” Thus, the mediation of Mary becomes even more important today. Boff declares, “As we see it, each new generation finds itself in Mary, projecting its dreams, its social-cultural ideals upon her.” Today’s society finds Mary its “deliverance from the captivity of a political and economic system that exploits human work.” So Mary is the avenger of the weak and oppressed, although this must not be held in tension with the historical Mary, and particularly her humility. [Christian D. Kettler, “The Vicarious Humanity of Christ and the Reality of Salvation,” (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2011), 34]

Aside from the obvious riff on the co-mediatrix of Mary; this makes for an interesting application of the doctrine of ‘Vicariousness’. In this scenario we have “social” categories predicating what humanity entails, and is characterized by. In other words, we have a doctrine of vicariousness that takes shape from ‘below’; so that what it means to be human (and female) is determined by the apparent attributes of what that looks like through the extension of that through female interaction with the world. While there are features of the female sex that are generally identifiable—like maternal, sensitive, compassionate, emotional, etc—these are not hard and fast characteristics. Ultimately, one of the problems with Boff’s proposal; is that its mode of operation moves from below. Humanity is actually given its raison d’ รชtre through the humanity of Jesus Christ (who is the imago Dei cf. Col. 1.15). There is no deficit in the reach of Christ’s humanity that needs to be augmented by a ‘feminine side’, like that puported by the analogy of Mary; NO! Mary’s humanity, like the rest of humanity, needs to be augmented by the humanity of Christ imago Christi.

This scenario helps, though, to illustrate the tension between trying to work out what being ‘human’ actually means in the first place; tension, between the Divine penetration of that in the hypostatic union of the eternal Logos with humanity (enhypostatic). In what way can we understand the Chalcedonian mantra of ‘distinct, but inseparably related’ (as to the natures of the person of Christ)? What does a theological (or christological) anthropology look like? And how would that implicate the vicarious humanity of Christ ‘for us’? The ‘for us’ is where I see the tension. How is the ‘us’ not swallowed up by ‘His’ humanity; and at the sameย  time, how does ‘His’ humanity make ‘us’ who we are? Mary needed a recreated humanity as much as the rest of us (cf. I Tim. 2.5-6). There is just ‘One Mediator between God and humanity’; humanity remains my question.

Protestants, Evangelicals, and the “Problem” of Tradition

This repost is inspired by Cody Lee, with whom I have been having a little discussion on this issue here.

It is often thought by Protestant-Evangelical Christians that Roman Catholics are the only ones with “Tradition,” but this really couldn’t be further from the truth. Of course what differentiates us (Protestants) from Roman Catholics is that we see tradition in a ministerial way; while Roman Catholics approach ‘tradition’ through a magesterial perspective. In other words, us Protestants (at least those who admit that we have interpretive tradition in the first place) see ‘tradition’ as Scripture’s “servant;” Roman Catholics view it as its “master.” Alister McGrath provides some excellent insight on this issue; especially as it is related to Evangelical Christians (meaning all of those who hold to a ‘high’ view of Scripture). He writes:

Evangelicalism celebrates and proclaims the supreme spiritual, moral, and theological authority of Scripture. At the Diet of Worms (18 April 1521), Martin Luther famously declared: “My conscience is captive to the word of God.” This powerful and bold statement resonates throughout evangelical history — a principled intention to listen attentively and obediently to Scripture, and to respond faithfully in our beliefs and actions. Yet evangelicals are aware that an emphasis upon the authority of Scripture cannot be uncoupled from the question of its proper interpretation. One of the major theological weaknesses of the “Battle for the Bible” within American evangelicalism during the 1980s was an apparent reluctance to accept that an infallible text was open to fallible interpretation. To assert the supreme authority of Scripture does not resolve how it is to be understood.

This familiar problem is often cited as the Achilles’ heel of contemporary evangelicalism. How can the validity of competing interpretations of Scripture be determined without appealing to some ground of authority that ultimately lies beyond Scripture itself? Evangelicalism, having affirmed the supreme authority of Scripture, finds itself without any meta-authority by which the correct interpretation of Scripture can be determined. This question is usually resolved politically, rather than theologically, by committees or organizations laying down how certain texts are to be interpreted. Yet this is not a new problem, nor one that is unique to evangelicalism. It has been an issue for the Protestant theological tradition as a whole. How can conflict over biblical interpretation be resolved without ultimately acknowledging certain criteria or agencies as standing above Scripture? To place any means of adjudication above Scripture is ultimately to compromise its unique authority. This realization has led to a growing appreciation of the role that engagement with the past might play in contemporary evangelical biblical interpretation and systematic theology. . . . (Alister McGrath quoted from, “John Calvin And Evangelical Theology,” ed. Sung Wook Chung, ix-x)

McGrath identifies an interesting conundrum for those of us who see tradition in ministerial ways; in other words, as Protestants and Evangelicals, we don’t have a ‘magesterium’ to tell us (with divine authority) how particular passages should be interpreted. But don’t we? As Alister, ironically alerts us to, Evangelicals, while asserting our ‘ministerial’ usage of tradition (that is if we recognize it in the first place, which most don’t); at the same time we appeal to our particular denomination’s interpretation of the text of Scripture. In a sense then, Protestants function in ‘magesterial’ ways of interpreting the text; appealing to our favorite Bible teachers (as an authority), or our denomination’s Confessions and Catechism as providing the ‘interpretive how’. Yet all along we continue to assert that ‘interpretive tradition’ is really only ‘ministerial’, or in the service of the text.

I think the only way around this problem is to humbly engage the past; understand and realize the role that it has had upon shaping the way we approach and interpret Scripture, and humbly test the shape of our “approaches” (or tradition) by what in fact “Scripture says.” Until we admit that we have interpretive tradition we will function like we don’t; and like the Catholics imbue the text of Scripture with our own preunderstandings as if they are native to the Text of Scripture (or self-same). The problem, for us Protestants-Evangelicals arises when we don’t appropriate a humble attitude in this regard; and when challenged with a variant interpretation from our own (from within the Protestant-Evangelical ‘tradition’), is that we see these Christians as “less-than” or even sub-Christian — since if they are disagreeing with my “denomination’s” (tradition) interpretation of Scripture, they really are disagreeing with Scripture itself.

I see this as a serious problem plaguing the Evangelical and Reformed traditions (with Protestantism); which has led to sectarian divisions within the Body of Christ, and sadly amongst those of us who all hold to sola scriptura.

If I Was Going to Convert . . .

. . . It would be to the Eastern Orthodox and not the Roman Catholic. Why? For one thing the EO don’t hold to the filioque, as much of the Western church does. For another reason, and I think this to be a legitimate reason at some level; EO has a certain aesthetic beauty about her that the Roman Catholic church doesn’t have (this might be as shallow as picking a favorite football time because you like their uniforms; but I don’t think so). The EO, at least the Greek Orthodox have liturgy in Greek; which is cool. I think the EO make better sense of the Episcopacy than does the Papal system. I like how the EO know their Patristic Fathers. Thomas Torrance liked Eastern Orthodoxy. They have a more personalist understanding of a doctrine of God (more Trinitarian) than does the Western church (although Lewis Ayres has done a lot to squash the oversimplification of this).

But this is only if I was going to convert. How about you, which way would you go; if you had to make this choice?

The Unmoved Spirituality, Thomas and His Impact

Carl Trueman, Church historian, and faculty at Westminster Seminary (Penn.) just penned a post on the role that historians should provide in providing perspective on the intellectual history of our past. He believes that over theย  last 1,000 years there has only been 2 major paradigm shifts that have actually been intellectual (even spiritual) paradigm shifts; one of which is the following:

Enter the church historians. ย Any intellectual historian of any merit will tell you that the last 1,000 years in the West have only produced two moments of paradigm shifting significance, and neither of them was the Reformation. ย The first was the impact of the translation into Latin of Aristotle’s metaphysical works. ย This demanded a response from the thirteenth century church. ย The response, most brilliantly represented by Thomas Aquinas, revolutionized education, transformed the philosophical landscape, opened up fruitful new avenues for theological synthesis, and set the basic shape of university education until the early eighteenth century. ย Within this intellectual context, the Reformation was to represent a critical development of Augustinian anti-Pelagianism in terms of the understanding of the church and of salvation . . . . (whole post here)

This is pivotal. This is something that I don’t think most Calvinists/Arminians grasp (or want to acknowledge). I’m not talking about folks like Trueman, Muller, Clark et. al.; I’m talking about folks involved with The Gospel Coalition, folks who follow John MacArthur, folks who follow John Piper et. al. Most folks who follow these groups and teachers and pastors believe that they don’t have an apparatus in place when they read Scripture through their Calvinist (and also Arminian) categories. Most people who are in this camp believe that they “just” read Scripture. But the reality is, is that they (by-and-large) interpret Scripture through the synthesis of Aristotelian philosophy with Christian theology provided by Thomas Aquinas (even if Thomas and Aristotle get “Protestantized”). The moral is, is that we all read Scripture through interpretive traditions; shouldn’t we acknowledge that, and then strive to appropriate modes of inquiry that are most proximate with the categories of Scripture? Do Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas provide the best grammar to articulate the implications and teaching of Scripture? Does Aristotle’s God, the Monad, the Unmoved Mover, the Singular Substance provide the best apparatus for articulating the Christian God who is Triune, Relational, and Love in His inner-life? If not, then why would you appeal to this interpretive tradition to do the heavy-lifting for Christian thought that it clearly cannot do? Is it because you have sentimental attachment to teachers of the “old paths” that did; is it because your pastor says this is so; is it because this is the only way you think it possible to talk about God’s sovereignty; is it because you think it’s the “Orthodox” way, and any other way is heterodox or Neo-orthodox; is it because you like a God who is static, and so you’re comfortable with a static view ๐Ÿ˜‰ ?

Evangelical Calvinism eschews this approach (the one that Trueman identifies as a major paradigm shift for Christian intellectual history). Not because we (I) think being different is cool, but because we think being different in this case is sound and reflects a more orthodox way to think about God. We think that if you start (methodologically) with a wrong approach to God, then you’ll end up with a wrong approach in living to and for God. This is why I am so motivated to continue to write about this stuff! It’s not a political power play, it’s not to impress people with intellectual acuity, it’s not because I want to win an argument, it’s not because I want to polarize the body of Christ, it’s not because I’m noble; it’s because “I” have become convinced that following Thomas (in general, methodologically) leads to a spirituality that reflects the god thatย provides an “Unmoved spirituality!”

The Hierarchy of Scripture, to Creeds, to Confessions, to Theologoumena for the Protestant Church

In lieu of this oft confusing issue in Protestant (and Evangelical) circles, in particular; I thought it would be appropriate to share how Oliver Crisp seeks to parse the inter-relations between Scripture and Tradition for a Protestant understanding of “authority,” relative to her principled commitment to sola scriptura. It seems to me, that for many “Evangelical Christians,” in particular, that we believe that sola scriptura (scripture alone) is solo scriptura (scripture all by itself, with no history of interpretation to consider); but this is just never really the case, even if we think it is. Scripture, indeed is the norma normans (norming, norm) for all theological development; but this does not also mean, that Scripture is not something that goes without interpretation, it clearly presupposes that it is interpreted. It behooves us to pay attention to how the Holy Spirit has worked in Christ’s Church through the centuries; it behooves us to consider the fact that God has provided His Church with teachers, and that these “teachers” have said something substantial and “churchly” shaping that we all are partakers of. This is not to say that the so called Tradition of the Church is sacrosanct, or above critique, it is not! But it is to say, that as contemporary interpreters today, that we should not run rough-shod over the history of interpretation by marginalizing it through contextualizing it to a nether-socio/cultural situation that necessarily particularizes it to a certain period; thus implying that the past has no universal force (in providing meaning) for the present and the future. Let’s consider what Crisp has to say on this, and then hear what you think about it in the comment meta.

  1. Scripture is the norma normans, the principium theologiae. It is the final arbiter of matters theological for Christians as the particular place in which God reveals himself to his people. This is the first-order authority in all matters of Christian doctrine.
  2. Catholic creeds, as defined by and ecumenical council of the Church, constitute a first tier of norma normata, which have second-order authority in matters touching Christian doctrine. Such norms derive their authority from Scripture to which they bear witness.
  3. Confessional and conciliar statements of particular ecclesial bodiesย  are a second tier of norma normata, which have third-order authority in matters touching Christian doctrine. They also derive their authority from Scripture to the extent that they faithfully reflect the teaching of Scripture.
  4. The particular doctrines espoused by theologians including those individuals accorded the title Doctor of the Church which are not reiterations of matters that are de fide, or entailed by something de fide, constitute theologoumena, or theological opinions, which are not binding upon the Church, but which may be offered up for legitimate discussion within the Church. [Oliver Crisp, god incarnate, (New York: T&T Clark International, 2009), 17.]

This is how Crisp conceives of how sola scriptura works in an ascending order of relative authority, Scripture being the final and norming voice upon all other pronouncements. So the ecumenical creeds (like Nicene-Constantinopolitan-Chalcedonian-etc.) have more established authority relative to their echo of Scripture; then subordinate to that, Confessions (like the Scots, Belgic, Westminster, etc.) have relative authority per their positioning vis-รก-vis the ecumenical creeds and then Scripture; then subsequent to this comes the voices of the theologians and biblical exegetes. The claim is not that the Creeds, Confessions, or Theologians cannot be debated (just the opposite); but it is the idea that if a theologian or biblical exegete want to disagree with a Creed/Confession, that they will have to assume their relative authority and validity and work through them (supposing that they are representations of what the “Church” has believed as formative norms) versus working around them (supposing that they have no relative authority or interpretive force whatsoever for the contemporary Church โ€“ which is the posture and attitude that produces solo scriptura).

What do you think about Crisp’s accounting; is it too Traditional and shackling for your Free Church sensibilities, or do you think that he presents something here that must be considered with seriousness?