Peter Enns - Historical Criticism and Evangelicalism: An Uneasy Relationship

http://www.respectfulconversation.net/ae-conversation/2013/7/1/historical-criticism-and-evangelicalism-an-uneasy-relationsh-2.html

 

by Peter Enns

July 1, 2013

 

 

An Introduction.

 

Modern biblical scholarship—also referred to as historical criticism, and less often today “higher criticism”—has an uneasy history with evangelicalism. In fact, evangelicalism’s intellectual component is largely a sustained response to the methods, philosophy, and conclusions of historical criticism. In some cases that response has come in the form of the rejection of historical criticism, in other cases a synthesis or adaptation of its methods and conclusions with evangelical theology.

 

The tensions are rooted, I feel, in the core commitment of the evangelical movement to the authority of Scripture. Since Scripture is divine revelation, i.e., God’s self-disclosure, its “authority” is tied explicitly to inerrancy and a number of corollaries such as historical accuracy and the essential theological harmony of Scripture.

 

Scripture’s function in evangelicalism is to lay down the basic map of Christian thought and practice, what we are to understand about God, Christ, Scripture itself, the human condition, and Christian practice. The task of historical criticism, on the other hand, is to peer “behind” Scripture and inquire as to its origins and meaning as understood within the cultural context in which the various texts were written. These two diverse approaches to Scripture are not easily compatible.

 

In principle, evangelicalism is not inimical to historical inquiry. In fact, one of evangelicalism’s hermeneutical pillars is the interpretation of Scripture in its historical context and in line with its original, intended, meaning—what is typically referred to as “grammatical-historical interpretation.” The tensions with historical criticism are not over the mere idea of investigating Scripture in the context, but in manner in which historical critics get there and the conclusions that they reach. In both respects, historical criticism has tended to undermine evangelical premises of biblical authority.

 

What complicates matters considerably for evangelicals, however, is that the general contours of historical criticism are widely persuasive, even universally so outside of evangelical (and fundamentalist) communities. I see four general, interrelated, aspects of historical criticism that are well established in biblical scholarship and also, in various ways, at odds with mainstream evangelicalism’s understanding of the nature of Scripture.

 

 

1. Biblical origins. The Old Testament we know today has a lengthy developmental history, both oral and written. The drawing together of these traditions that did not commence in earnest until the Babylonian exile (6^th c. BC) and did not come to an end until sometime during the Persian period (roughly 5^th and 4^th centuries BC) at the earliest. This does not mean that the Hebrew Bible was written out of while cloth during this period. Some books or portions of books clearly were, but many others were added to or updated in some way.

 

[Similarly,] issues surrounding the formation of the New Testament are similar, but involve a much shorter period of time.

 

 

2. Perspectives of the biblical writers. When speaking of their past, the Old Testament writers were not working as modern historians or investigative journalists to uncover verifiable facts (as we might put it). They were more storytellers, conduits for generations—even centuries—of tradition, which they brought together to form their sacred text. In the Old Testament we have Israel’s national-religious story as seen through the eyes of those responsible for giving it its final shape.

 

This is not to say that they invented these traditions on the spot, but they “packaged” their past as they did to address their present crisis—exile, return, and an uncertain future. Israel’s inscripturated story both accounts for this crisis and also points the way forward to the hope that God has not abandoned his people but has a glorious future in store for them.

 

A similar issue holds for the New Testament, where the Gospels reflect the experiences and thinking of various Christian communities a generation and more after Jesus’ ministry on earth. They, too, are presentations of Jesus and the early missionary activities that reflect the perspectives and needs to the respective communities.

 

 

3. Theological diversity. Given historical criticism’s focus on matters of biblical origin, the diversity of the various biblical texts is highlighted with no pressing concern, as we see in evangelicalism, to draw these diverse texts into a harmonious whole. Hence, historical criticism speaks freely of the different theologies contained in Scripture.

 

One practical implication is that the evangelical hermeneutical methodology of allowing “Scripture to interpret Scripture” tends to fall on deaf ears among historical critics. Reading Genesis, for example, through the eyes of Isaiah or Paul in order to understand the meaning of Genesis would be like reading Shakespeare through the eyes of Arthur Miller and expecting to gain from it an insight into what Shakespeare meant.

 

 

4. The problem of historicity. This last aspect of historical criticism in effect summarizes the previous three: the Bible does not tell us what happened so much as what the biblical writers either believed happened or what they invented. This is not to say that historical critics think nothing of historical importance can be found in Scripture, but that any historical information is inextricably bound up with the perspectives and purposes of the biblical writers.

 

 

In Summary.

 

There are other ways of outlining the nature of historical criticism, of course, but this will do to highlight why tensions exist between historical criticism and evangelicalism. The former presents us with a Bible that the latter is loathe to accept in toto because of its significant theological ramifications.

 

Yet, most evangelical biblical scholars understand the persuasiveness and positive impact that at least some aspects of historical criticism have had on our understanding of Scripture. One need only glance at a decent evangelical Study Bible or commentary to see that impact.

 

The tensions between evangelicalism and historical criticism have not been settled, nor will they be in the near future, at least as I see it. There seems to be an implicit détente, where it is acceptable to mine historical criticism and appropriate its theologically less troubling conclusions but to draw the line where those conclusions threaten evangelical theology.

 

This sort of back-and-forth dance can ease tensions temporarily, but it virtually guarantees that each generation of thoughtful evangelicals, once they become sympathetically exposed to historical criticism, will question where lines should be drawn and why seemingly arbitrary lines have been drawn where they are.

 

The fact that these inner-evangelical tensions keep coming up anew each generation suggests that older solutions to these tensions are not persuasive but more a temporary stopgap measure to maintain evangelical theological stability. A possible way forward is to promote an explicit synthesis between evangelical theology and historical criticism in order to achieve, potentially, a more lasting peace. The difficulty here, however, is that such synthesis might threaten the very structure of evangelicalism to the breaking point.

 

I am an advocate for such a synthetic discussion, though I would also stress that historical criticism is not the end all of biblical interpretation for the spiritual nourishment of the church. But where historical matters are the focus, historical criticism is a non-negotiable conversation partner.

 

As I see it, the pressing issue before evangelicalism is not to formulate longer, more complex, more subtle, and more sophisticated defenses of what we feel God should have done, but to teach future generations, in the academy, the church, and the world, better ways of meeting God in the Scripture we have.

 

 

Translation and Theology - Jesus and the Early Church's Reading of the Greek OT Bible (the Septuagint)

 

 

 

Here’s Something about the Bible of the First Christians I Bet Many of You Didn’t Know (you’re welcome)

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/peterenns/2013/07/heres-something-about-the-bible-of-the-first-christians-i-bet-many-of-you-didnt-know-youre-welcome/

 

by Peter Enns

July 1, 2013

Comments

 

Before there was a New Testament, the Bible of the first Christians (the writers of the New Testament and the early Church) was a Greek translation of the Old Testament. The general term used to designate that translation is “Septuagint.”

 

Think about that: the Old Testament of the New Testament writers and of the early Church was a translation–and an imperfect one at that.

 

You’d think, at key moment of God’s self-disclosure, the gospel of  Jesus Christ, God would have worked from the original so nothing got lost in translation. But he didn’t. Which should make you think about whether God is as uptight about the precise wording of the Bible as some make him out to be. But I digress.

 

Most Christians have never heard of the Church’s first Bible. Today’s post is an interview with Timothy Michael Law, who is going to talk about it.

 

Law is the author of When God Spoke Greek: The Septuagint and the Making of the Christian Bible and founder and Editor-in-Chief of The Marginalia Review of Books. He is currently an Alexander von Humboldt Fellow in the Georg-August-Universität Göttingen and affiliated with the Septuaginta Unternehmen. After receiving his PhD in the Oriental Institute in Oxford in 2009, Law was a British Academy Postdoctoral Fellow until 2012.

 

First of all, basically, what is the Septuagint?

 

It’s the Greek translation of the Old Testament. The word means “seventy,” which refers to the legendary idea that 72 Jewish scribes miraculously translated the Pentateuch in 72 days in the 3rd century BC. This is why the common abbreviation for the Septuagint is the Roman numeral LXX, “seventy.”

 

In truth, the origins of the Greek translation are much more complex. Some books were translated in the 3rd century BCE in Alexandria, Egypt, but others were translated much later, perhaps as late as the 2nd century CE, in Palestine.

 

Some, like Samuel or Jeremiah, were translated from Hebrew texts that differ significantly from the Hebrew text that came to form the standard version of the Jewish Bible, which is the basis for our English Old Testament.

 

 

Also, most think of the Septuagint as simply the “translation of the Old Testament,” but in fact the Septuagint also contains a number of other books composed in Greek (no Hebrew or Aramaic original). These were later designated as “Apocrypha.” But all of these scriptures played a vital role in both Hellenistic Judaism and early Christianity. Protestants have lost an awful lot by not knowing these books.

 

Another reason “translation of the Old Testament” is imprecise is that early on “Septuagint” referred only to the Pentateuch. But by the time you get to 3rd and 4th centuries CE writers like Origen and Eusebius, the term had already been applied to the entire body of Jewish Scriptures they now called the “Old Testament.” So this is why most of us today refer to the whole thing as Septuagint, even though we keep in mind the imprecision of the term.

 

Here’s the money question: why should we care? Tell us a bit about what you were trying to accomplish with this book.

 

The simplest answer is that in the first centuries of Christianity the Old Testament was the Septuagint. The Hebrew Bible that is now studied in most educational contexts, like seminaries and universities, emerged later. These early Christians also considered the Septuagint to be inspired by God, as did Greek-speaking Jews like Philo of Alexandria.

 

During my time as a seminarian, I was struck when I read a scholar’s claim that the Septuagint was the “First Bible of the Church.” I then noticed lots of New Testament citations of the Old Testament were derived from the Septuagint, not from the Hebrew Old Testament.

 

It was one of those moments when I thought, “Why haven’t I learned anything about this?” I soon found out that I wasn’t alone, and even many scholars had trouble articulating exactly what the Septuagint was beyond simply “it’s a translation of the Hebrew.”

 

But if this was the Bible of the early Church, surely it is important; and not only to people of faith but also to historians. Tessa Rajak succeeds marvelously in her gambit to recover the Greek Bible as a piece of Jewish history. I wanted to do something similar by exploring the Septuagint as a little known piece of Christian history.

 

So why has the Septuagint been underexplored or ignored?

 

Because, for centuries the Septuagint has been regarded as a mere translation of the Hebrew, one of the “versions,” and so mainly a tool to help us understand the “original” Hebrew. If you are a student of the Hebrew Bible, you hear of the Septuagint because you might need help every now and then when the Hebrew is unclear. Other than that, unless you are a specialist, you might never learn anything else about it.

 

What value is there to the Septuagint as a translation of the Hebrew Old Testament? What can we learn from it?

 

Any translation of the Bible is much more than a mirror copy (just think of how English translations differ from each other). In many places in the Septuagint, yes, one is reading word for word the same text found in the Hebrew. In many other places, however, the translation yields different theological emphases than those found in the Hebrew Bible; the translation has created new meanings.

 

We also know, as I mentioned above, that some books in the Septuagint were translated from Hebrew texts that are radically different from those in modern editions of the Hebrew Bible, and thus in English Bible translations. This has been brought to light through studying the Dead Sea Scrolls.

 

That means the Septuagint sometimes reveals an older version of the Old Testament than those that exist in the Hebrew Bibles we use in seminaries and universities. The Septuagint gives us glimpses into earlier stages in the Bible’s development, before the completion of the Hebrew Bible that is now the basis of modern translations. This is especially problematic for those who put their entire faith in the pursuit of the “original text.”

 

Can you give us an example or two of how the Septuagint gives us glimpses into the earlier stages of the Bible’s development?

 

One of the best-known stories from the Old Testament is that of David and Goliath. In the Septuagint, the story is about half the length as the account in the Hebrew Bible. It lacks the details about David delivering food to his brothers, his first hearing of Goliath’s challenge, and his contemplation on the risk/reward of getting involved (17:12-31). Also missing are the covenant Jonathan makes with David (18:1-5) and the story of Saul’s evil spirit (18:10-11).

 

Careful study reveals that the Septuagint version is definitely the earlier form of the story–the Septuagint didn’t just “leave things out” by mistake. It was translated from an earlier version of the Hebrew Bible where these details were absent. The version of the story we know is a later, expanded, version.

[ ... Hence, what is observed is the Jewish Bible in various stages of "collection/development" between historical periods, as each period "collects" lost translations of the Jewish Bible lost over time into a finished whole. - r.e. slater, cf. "My JEDP Observations of Biblical Cultural Preservation" along with other articles under the sidebars of "Bible"]

Another interesting case is found in Jeremiah 31:27-34 (38:27-34 in the Septuagint). The Hebrew Bible highlights the unshakable faithfulness of God in spite of the disobedience of Israel. The key is in verse 32, which in the Hebrew Bible reads

 

“…a covenant that they broke, though I was their husband.”

 

The Septuagint, however, has

 

“…because they did not abide in my covenant, and I was unconcerned for them.”

 

Here, too, the Septuagint reading is the original, and the later change is theologically driven. The later editors of the Hebrew Bible thought the idea that God was “unconcerned” for Israel was out of step with his character of faithfulness claimed by other texts.

 

This prompted the change to this startling phrase in order to reinforce God’s faithfulness, having him say, “though I was their husband,” which means, “though I remained faithful to them in spite of their disobedience.”

 

As an example of how important and authoritative the Greek Old Testament was for New Testament writers, the author of Hebrews (8:9) quotes the LXX of Jeremiah to reinforce the idea that God was “unconcerned” for disobedient Israel.

 

This brings us to an important question especially for those interested in Protestant Christian history. The Reformers, in focusing on the Hebrew Old Testament, were not really going back to the sources, as they claimed, were they?

 

Well, no, not exactly. They thought they were, but they weren’t. We can’t be too hard on them for not knowing about all these textual complexities, though, since the Dead Sea Scrolls weren’t discovered until 1947. We, however, need to be more nuanced in our thinking.

 

My book ends in the fifth century with Jerome, who gave the Church the Vulgate - or, the Latin translation of the Old and New Testament - that would come to dominate the western Church for centuries. Jerome’s work is the beginning of the end for the Septuagint in western Christendom. After studying with rabbis and engaging in polemical interactions with Jews, Jerome felt the Church needed a translation based on the “original” Hebrew Bible of his Jewish counterparts. This inclination actually started before Jerome, but Jerome was the first to make such a strong case that the Church had gone off the path by following the Septuagint.

 

Reformers, then, have to be seen as the ones who completed the job. The new offshoot of Christendom that came to be known as Protestantism would likewise prioritize the Hebrew Bible above the Septuagint and even the Vulgate. What is almost tragically comical, though, is that they didn’t actually lead the Church back to the “sources,” at least if one understands the sources as the earliest Hebrew text.

 

This is where the Dead Sea Scrolls messed everything up, because no one could call the Septuagint translators crazy anymore. We know now that there were many other variant forms of the Hebrew scriptures circulating before the time of Jesus. The Hebrew Bible that Jerome and the Reformers took to be more authentic and “original” was nothing of the sort. It was a later, heavily edited version of a diverse back history of the Hebrew Old Testament. The Septuagint provides an earlier glimpse into that history. The Reformers played a significant role in mislabeling as “original” the later version of the Old Testament.

 

Give an example or two of New Testament authors quoting the Septuagint where it differs significantly from the Hebrew Old Testament we have today.

 

In Romans 9:33, Paul cites Isaiah 28:16, which speaks of God laying in Zion (Jerusalem) a precious cornerstone. Paul adjusts this quote to say that the stone, i.e., Christ, will provide salvation to those who trust in him, and that the stone will also be a stumbling block that many will trip over (he uses the same ideas in Rom 11:9-12 and 1 Cor 1:23).

 

Ross Wagner has shown that Paul relies on the Septuagint reading to give Isaiah a Christological meaning: the Septuagint asserts the one who trusts “in him”—that is, in the stone—will not be “put to shame.” The Hebrew version of Isaiah leaves undefined the object of one’s trust and says “will not panic” rather than “will not be put to shame.”

 

In Rom 15:11 Paul cites Deut 32:43. The Septuagint text of Deut 32:43 is not found in the Hebrew: “Be glad, O nations, with his people, and let all the angels of God prevail for him.” The mention of “nations,” or “Gentiles,” allows Paul to extend the invitation to Gentiles to come worship with Israel.

 

A third example, if I may, is more radical, since it shows how a New Testament writer adopts a Septuagint reading that is obviously a mistranslation or misreading of the Hebrew.  In Rev 2:26-27; 12:5; and 19:15 we read of one who will come and rule with an iron rod, which is certainly an allusion to Psalm 2. “Rule” is the Septuagint reading, but the Hebrew psalmist says that the one to whom God gives authority will “break” the enemies with a rod of iron.

 

The Septuagint translator has either misunderstood or misread the Hebrew verb, which looks very similar to the verb for “rule.” The writer of Revelation has simply followed “his Bible,” the Septuagint, which allows him to make his theological point that the Lord will come to rule the nations.

 

What are some theological implications of all this for Christian readers of the Bible?

 

I end the book asking this very question. The Septuagint is a central component of the New Testament and the early Church, so it is mind-boggling that it has been ignored. Those with an interest in Christian theology will have plenty to consider, but until the Septuagint is taken seriously and studied extensively, we have to wait and see. I am also editing the Oxford Handbook on the Septuagint, and we have asked a contributor to explore this question. But it really could be a doctoral dissertation topic for some interested student.

 

One thing we do not need to wait any longer to say is this: the existence of multiple forms of scripture (Greek and Hebrew) in antiquity, both before, during, and after the time of Christ, did not bother early Christians. The search for an “original text” on which to ground one’s faith is a distinctively modern worry. Even when Christians began recognizing divergences between the Jewish Scriptures and their own, many saw it as an opportunity to discover more than one way to understand divine communication.

 

My book is certainly not meant to attack cherished beliefs for the sake of being a controversialist. Though potentially unsettling, I wrote constructively, to tell the story of an ignored part of the history of the Christian Bible. We have to be honest that the nice, neat pictures we have constructed may not be true to reality. I like this quote of Augustine:

 

Accordingly, when anyone claims, “Moses meant what I say,”and another retorts, “No, rather what I find there,” I think that I will be answering in a more religious spirit if I say, “Why not both, if both are true?” And if there is a third possibility, and a fourth, and if someone else sees an entirely different meaning in these words, why should we not think that he was aware of all of them?

- Augustine, Confessions 12.31.42

 



  

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ADDENDUM

 

"One of my observations is to ask how language can be fluid and flexible enough

to accommodate limited theological and historical understanding. Indeed, this

is the strength of the (b)ible as it passes between the generations of man from

one socio-cultural era to another!" - r.e. slater

 

 

 

cf. sidebar: "Bible - Authority and Interpretation"

 

 

For additional reading  pursuing articles under the sidebars of "Bible".

Here are a couple you may find: 

 

A Jewish Perspective of the Bible

http://relevancy22.blogspot.com/2012/11/a-jewish-perspective-of-bible.html

 

Barnum Synagogue

 

 

 

Development of the Hebrew Bible Canon

http://relevancy22.blogspot.com/2012/11/development-of-hebrew-bible-canon.html

 

A Jewish Bible Passage Unscrolled

 

 

 

 

Suggested Summer Reads by Roger Olson

Some Good Summer Reading (Recommended New or Forthcoming Theology Books)

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/rogereolson/2013/06/some-good-summer-reading-recommended-new-or-forthcoming-theology-books/

 

by Roger Olson

June 22, 2013

Summer is a time when I try to catch up on reading. During the academic year books tend to pile up on a table in my home study. Eventually, usually during the summer, I get around to reading some. I’m often reading (or listening to) several books at the same time (don’t take that too literally!). I’m usually writing one book while finishing the “details” of a previous one (e.g., creating its index) and planning the next one. So I’ll start with what I’m working on (books-wise) and then mention some good books I’ve recently read or am reading right now.

 

My magnum opus will probably be the forthcoming The Journey of Modern Theology: From Reconstruction to Deconstruction scheduled to be published by InterVarsity Press later this year. My teaching assistant Jared Patterson and I are working on the index now. The manuscript is 900 pages; the book itself will probably come in a little over 700 pages. It’s up at Amazon without the cover (as of the other day when I checked). I’m not sure why the cover doesn’t show yet. The cover will feature Friedrich Schleiermacher and Karl Barth—“bookends” of modern theology (in terms of approaches to modernity). Journey is a comprehensive revision and expansion of 20th Century Theology: God and the World in a Transitional Age written with Stan Grenz and published by IVP in 1992. It’s really a completely new book that incorporates some material from that earlier one. The theme of Journey is theological responses to modernity (including postmodern theologies). It includes new chapters on: Kierkegaard, Thomas Reid, Coleridge, Bushnell, Hodge, Dorner, Catholic Modernism (Tyrrell, Loisy), Troeltsch, and many more including the final two chapters on Hauerwas (postliberalism) and John Caputo (deconstructionism).

 

Right now I’m writing a book with my friend Christian Collins Winn entitled Reclaiming Pietism. That will be published by Eerdmans sometime in 2014. My next project is a book on contemporary versions of ancient heresies for Abingdon. That’s slated for 2015.

 

I’m also working on a couple of articles and talks—for churches and professional society meetings.

 

So, here are some excellent books you should read. Some are already published; a couple are forthcoming—watch for them (I’ve read them in pre-publication forms):


Scot McKnight, A Long Faithfulness: The Case for Christian Perseverance (Patheos Press available in Kindle edition only). It’s an extremely concise but thorough biblical and theological examination of the doctrine of “eternal security of the believer” or “perseverance of the saints” aimed at defeating deterministic theologies of salvation. You can see my endorsement at the Amazon page for the book. I think this little book (only 64 pages!) presents one of the strongest challenges to the doctrine of “inamissable grace” (its technical name) ever. Scot’s thesis is that IF the Bible contradicts that doctrine and actually teaches amissable grace (the real possibility of apostasy), then deterministic salvation (monergism) is false. The book is irenic toward those with whom Scot disagrees; it is not overly polemical, but it is pointed.


David Fitch and Geoff Holsclaw, Prodigal Christianity: 10 Signposts into the Missional Frontier (Jossey-Bass). The authors are pastors and seminary professors; the book is aimed at the broader evangelical (and post-evangelical) community about being missional in a post-Christendom culture. The book resonates with the recent “Missio Alliance” gathering (at which I spoke) in Arlington, Virginia. Clearly these authors are not satisfied with the two main options in contemporary evangelical and post-evangelical church life: “Neo-Reformed” (e.g., The Gospel Coalition and Together for the Gospel) and “Emerging” (or “Emergent”) as that is represented by Brian McLaren, Tony Jones, Doug Padgitt, et al. They think both of those have much to offer that is valuable, but ultimately they see them as either too defensive and authoritarian or as too enamored with conversation that ultimately goes nowhere. They talk about developing “welcoming and mutually transforming” communities of faith and offer both general and specific paths toward them. People who consider themselves broadly evangelical but not satisfied with either Neo-Reformed or Emergent/Emerging types of contemporary church life may find this book helpful and rewarding. Underlying it and in its background is a generally Anabaptist approach to Christianity, but one that is sensitive and relevant to contemporary (postmodern) culture.*

 

[* I have listed a rejoinder here - Are You Missional or Are You Emergent? Is There a Difference? by R.E. Slater]


Peter C. Blum, For a Church to Come: Experiments in Postmodern Theory and Anabaptist Thought (Herald Press). This is a series of previously published essays in which the author experiments with comparing John Howard Yoder and key postmodern thinkers such as Foucault, Derrida and Levinas with an eye toward community Christianity. The author opposes “top-down,” authoritarian, foundationalist modes of Christian theology and church life and favors an Anabaptist model informed by such postmodern ideas as openness to “the Other.” I’ve only read the first half and found it familiar territory, but that’s because I’ve read quite a bit of literature like this in recent years and have already noticed the points of compatibility between certain themes of postmodern philosophy and Yoder’s approach to Anabaptist theology and ecclesiology.


Nicholas Wolterstorff, Justice: Rights and Wrongs (Princeton University Press). Heavy sledding but definitely worth the work. Here Wolterstorff argues against that basic human rights are inherent in persons and not dependent on communities and their orders. I was not familiar with this debate before diving into this book and am still struggling with understanding why anyone, especially a Christian, would think that basic human rights are granted by communities and their orders rather than inherent. So far I’m finding that I have agreed with Wolterstorff’s position for a very long time without knowing it was controversial. He is definitely giving me a lot of philosophical, biblical and theological reasons to continue believing what I have believed.


Gregory Boyd, Benefit of the Doubt: Breaking the Idol of Certainty (Baker, forthcoming). Without doubt (pun intended) this is one of the best books on this subject. (Others include the classics The Myth of Certainty by Daniel Taylor and The Christian Agnostic by Leslie Weatherhead.) In this book Boyd reveals much about himself, his personal and spiritual biography, as well as his mature theology. The thesis is that absolute certainty is humanly impossible—even in spiritual matters—and that we Christians need to learn to live with doubt and even embrace it. One of Greg’s main themes throughout his ministry and writing is “Be real!” He believes too much of contemporary evangelical (and, again, I use the term very broadly) religion revels in a kind of unreality—expecting Christians to rise above mere humanity into perfection. One myth attached to that is that “real Christians” rise above doubt about God, the Bible, etc., and achieve absolute certainty. Greg thinks that sets Christians up for disillusionment when they realize that isn’t happening for them or anyone they know. Greg’s alternative is faith, what Lesslie Newbigin (in Proper Confidence) calls “proper confidence.”


Alan P. F. Sell, Confessing the Faith Yesterday and Today: Essays Reformed, Dissenting, and Catholic (Pickwick). I’ve been asked to review this for Evangelical Quarterly—a British theological journal—so I won’t say much about the book here. Let me just say that Sell is one of my favorite Reformed theologians even though most neo-Reformed (fundamentalist and hard core confessionalist) types in the U.S. would probably consider him not truly Reformed. But, then, he might return the favor. Sell used to be theological secretary of the World Alliance of Reformed Churches (now called the World Communion of Reformed Churches)—an ecumenical group of over one hundred Reformed denominations worldwide. (By the way, the Remonstrant Brotherhood of the Netherlands, the direct descendent denomination of the original Remonstrants, is a charter member of the WCRC!) Sell wrote two little books many years ago that had a great impact on me: The Great Debate: Calvinism, Arminianism, and Salvation (Baker) and Theology in Turmoil: The Roots, Course and Significance of the Conservative-Liberal Debate in Modern Theology (Baker). Both are excellent books. But my favorite Sell books (which I reviewed for Christianity Today) are his three under the over arching title Doctrine and Devotion (unfortunately they are now out of print and hard to find). Sell is a British Congregationalist, a “Dissenter,” and one of his main theological heroes is P. T. Forsyth, also one of mine. Forsyth was a progressive evangelical of a century ago—someone who managed to avoid the pitfalls of both fundamentalism and liberalism.

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More Recommendations by Roger re "The History of Philosophical Thought" within the cultural milieus of Christianity

Christianity and Western Thought, Volume 1: From the Ancient World to the Age of Enlightenment
by Colin Brown
IVP Academic, 2010

Christianity and Western Thought, Volume 2: Faith and Reason in the 19th Century
by Steve Wilkens & Alan G. Padgett
IVP Academic, 2010

Christianity and Western Thought, Volume 3: Journey to Postmodernity in the Twentieth Century
by Steve Wilkens & Alan G. Padgett
IVP Academic, 2009

       

 

 

 

 

Stories of the "Not Yet Healed"

 

 

Testimonies of the Not-Yet Healed

http://www.relevantmagazine.com/god/testimonies-not-yet-healed

 

By John Espy

June 24, 2013

 

It's time for churches to tell the other side of the story.

 

There is one story Christians are hungry to hear. It is not precisely the Gospel story, which we think we know; it is the good news made personal, made real in our bodies and before our eyes. It is the story that concludes, “... and then someone prayed, and I was instantly and completely healed.”

 

In many churches, this is the only personal story that we hear. That is, if someone other than a pastor or worship leader is allowed to speak in church, it is to tell a version of this story. Accounts of physical and emotional healing have become our only public testimonies.

 

These stories should be told, repeatedly. Psalm 145:4 says, “One generation will commend Your works to another; they will tell of Your mighty acts.” In the New Testament, healing miracles bear witness concerning Jesus (John 10:25, 38) and sometimes draw entire communities to listen to the Gospel (Acts 3:1-11; 9:32-35, 40-42).

 

 

Every believer lives a story charged with suspense.

 

Yet today we face two difficulties. First, because all our testimonies are alike, they don’t grip us. When there is only one story, there is really no story at all—no suspense, no valuing of developments along the way. The congregation isn’t excited; the community isn’t transformed. And soon the voices fall silent. We listen only to the newest story or the person raised from death trumps the one who had a limb restored. This woman was healed of cancer, but that was 30 years ago, and now she has a heart condition.

 

Which brings us to the second problem: Some of us have quite different testimonies. We have not been instantly and completely healed—at least, not yet. Some of us are very sick indeed, requiring much help and patience from others. Yet we still have testimonies. We strive, like Habakkuk (3:17-18), to rejoice in God even in a time of barrenness. We seek to serve, like Paul, despite “a bodily ailment” (Galatians 4:13), or, like Timothy, despite “frequent illnesses” (1 Timothy 5:23). In various ways, we confess, “My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise preserves my life” (Psalm 119:50) and “It was good for me to be afflicted so that I might learn Your decrees” (119:71).

 

We have testimonies, but no one wants to hear them. That is a great pity, for Christians are urged to “consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds” (Hebrews 10:24). Most testimonies of healing don’t rouse me to stand in the noble, active waiting of hope or to walk in costly deeds of love. That is not their function. Rather, the story of a brother or sister who was instantly and completely healed awakens my faith in a good and steadfastly loving God, who still delivers.

 

Hope and love require a different sort of testimony. They require accounts of missionaries and persecuted Christians, or people—like Joni Eareckson Tada, Dave Roever, and others in our own congregations—who are living models of patient endurance. The gap between these groups is not as wide as we may imagine. The churches of Paul’s day sent many emissaries, but when he says to “honor such men” (Philippians 2:29), his immediate reference is to Epaphroditus, who risked his life by falling sick. We tend to miss this, perhaps because we would rather celebrate power than emulate long suffering.

 

Of course, not every story of sickness is a Christian testimony. Samuel Johnson, who knew both physical maladies and depression, observed, “It is so very difficult for a sick man not to be a scoundrel.” Pain makes us self-centered, grumbling, and manipulative. And yet, in the midst of trials, some believers eventually find strength to rejoice (James 1:2; 1 Peter 1:6), grace to give (2 Corinthians 8:2) and comfort to share (2 Corinthians 1:3-5).

 

We need heroes. There is much that is heroic in the lives of people who have been healed, in their preceding days or years of pain and doubt, but we rarely hear of this, because of the one story that emphasizes faith and power. We forget the power of God also supplies hope to the one who walks in darkness and love to the one who gives from scarcity. Ultimately there is only one Hero, but how many are His stories!

 

In the midst of trials, some believers eventually find strength to rejoice, grace to give and comfort to share.

 

In her book Affliction, Edith Schaeffer suggests Heaven’s Museum contains two complementary exhibits. Each presents every torment that Satan can devise, every trial that the Accuser calls too big for God. One gallery showcases instances of God delivering from each circumstance; the other, believers who overcame because they continued to love and trust God even though He didn’t deliver them. Without taking this literally, can’t we acknowledge that every believer lives a story charged with suspense? Where are those testimonies?

 

My brother once attended a church with a TV ministry. Each week, the camera swept over the congregation on its way to the platform. Often it captured a man with quadriplegia, sitting in a wheelchair. One day the elders approached this man and said, in effect, “We are delighted that you come here, but this church believes in healing. Our viewers deserve to see only people who are whole and happy. Please, would you sit on the sidelines, in the shadows, just until you are healed.”

 

Today many of our churches believe that to be a Christian, to have any testimony at all, requires that one be whole and happy. We have no Pauls with thorns in the flesh, no Timothys with frequent ailments, no terminally ill Elishas—or, if we do, we accuse them of lacking the faith to be healed, instantly and completely. We fail to perceive that, if we live long enough, this theology will banish every one of us to the shadows. We have no place for broken vessels, with Jesus’ life and power revealed through cracks and amid putrescence. We will honor Epaphroditus only when he becomes camera-ready, or for an hour when he dies.

 

I crave stories of healing as much as anyone. One day I hope to tell such a tale. But, God knows, I also need to be prodded and encouraged by those who haven’t yet received the things promised, but still live by faith because they consider God “reliable and trustworthy and true to His word” (Heb. 11:11, Amplified). They too have a story to tell.

 

 

Bluetree - Select Songs and Videos with Links

 

 

 

Bluetree "Under My Feet" (official music video)

 

 

 

 

 

Media - http://www.bluetreeworship.com/media/

 

Home - http://www.bluetreeworship.com/

 

 

 

Bluetree - You Are My Rock (official music video)

 

 

 

 

Bluetree "Jesus Healer" (official music video)

 

 

 

 

Bluetree - God Of This City (album version)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bluetree - Life's Noise

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Buddy Greene, "Mary, Did You Know?" with Lyrics

Mary, Did You Know? - Buddy Greene

Lyrics

Mary, did you know
that your baby boy will one day walk on water?
Mary, did you know
that your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?
Did you know
that your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you've delivered
will soon deliver you.

Mary, did you know
that your baby boy will give sight to a blind man
Mary, did you know
that your baby boy will calm a storm with His hand?
Did you know
that your baby boy has walked where angels trod?
And when you kiss your little baby
You've kissed the face of God.

Mary, did you know?Mary, did you know?

Bridge:
The blind will see
The deaf will hear
The dead will live again
The lame will leap
The dumb will speak
The praises of The Lamb

Mary, did you know
that your baby boy is Lord of all creation?
Mary, did you know
that your baby boy will one day rule the nations?
Did you know
that your baby boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?
This sleeping child you're holding
is the Great I Am





Jesus of Nazareth - Mary Did You Know

Are You Missional or Are You Emergent? Is There a Difference?

 

"... Certainly the love of God has made fools of us all."

- R.E. Slater                                            

Voices of Dissent - Unfolding God's Love Within the Heart and Conscience of Humanity                            

 

 

During the past 2 years I have found myself working at defining just what Emergent, Postmodern Christianity might be - as versus what many people think that it is, including Emergency's own circle of "inner disciples." My interest was to define Reformed Christianity and its Classic Theology into more sustainable forms of biblical witness - one that would bring the best of biblical thinking and missional practice into focus. Initially (as can be read in my first six months of blogging) I was interesting in determining what Emergent (or, Emerging) Christianity was not, when played against louder evangelical  voices offering their own cross-flicted opinions as to what transformational Christianity for the 21st Century should be. But immediately after this time I become convicted to speak of a Christianity on a more positive, broader plane of endeavor that could embrace all kinds of people and Christian faiths.... To find a Jesus that reached out to everyone, and not just a select few who happened to hold the "right" views of the Bible.

I also became quite concerned as to how to discern the Scriptures in a very high sense while allowing other human academic disciplines to come alongside to help in understanding God's Word in approaches that might lean towards an "anthropological hermeneutic." As such, I was not put off by trying to "contain" the free speech and insight of "unsanctified others" (per the many alarmed denunciations of my evangelical movement) - even if those voices, in some cases, arose from within anti-God, or atheistic contexts. I realized very early that part of this reconstructive effort would necessarily involve de/constructing "official" Christian-understanding and dogmatic platforms across a wide variety of church doctrines and dogmas. The other effort would be fraught in re/constructing (the preferred theo/sophical term is "reinterpreting" per Paul Ricoeur, the noted French Theologian and Philosopher) the Bible's revelatory structure of multi-vocality as seen within its many ancient narrative stories recounted by both pagan and believer; its lost linguistical backgrounds contained within very ancient socio-personal contexts that we think we understand but probably don't based upon the many varied opinions by scholar and exegete; and, the Bible's overwhelming variety of interpretive hermeneutics as evidenced by personal, societal, and religious restatements recited across its well-leafed pages. Especially as it was relevant within our own contemporary, post-modern, post-secular epoch underscored by a rapidly spreading, social media technology, being flung across a wide variety of formerly culturally-contained, pluralistic, multi-ethnic global societies seeking communication with with one another (whether fairly, or equitably, is another question left for another time). Throughout most of this transitionary period I had this strong sense of the Spirit of God pushing me forward into new, unfamiliar, expansive theological landscapes, while at the same time helping me to resist spinning backwards into the safer, traditional, paradigms of propositional Christianity bounded off by offsetting Christian sentiment and-or willful prejudicial platforms.

Nor did I wish to recreate a Christian faith or theology that was exclusivistic, legalistic, or active in some new form of separatistic conservatism. No. It had to be incarnational (Jesus for today), missional (God's Kingdom for today), expressive (relevant in word and deed), and universal in message and medium. Meaning that no one should be excluded from God's good news in Christ. That no one should be excluded from God's redeeming love. That no one should be left standing out on the byways of the Church of God. That the love of God demanded valuing one another in such a way that it created charitable communities of generous fellowship and goodwill. These latter expressions of worth and value are especially of high interest when working towards expressing an expansive, contemporary Gospel... Especially when viewing Playstation and X-box games filled with blood, killing, and uplifting self against the world. Or in the daily portrayal of our world at war with itself, as it consistently refuses peace and goodwill while always in pursuit of nationalistic agendas, unjust sociological promotions, or the ecological rape and pillage of the Earth. Contrary to man's agendas and interests is God's agendas and interests that promotes charity, worth, value, and community. This, to me, was the good news of the Gospel worth proclaiming against man's own agendas of monopolistic greed ushered under the thin veneers of adjudicating democracies or totalitarian regimes.

So then, words like post-positional, post-attractional, post-universal, post-Christiandom would not be words that would put me so easily off - or at a disadvantage - but would cause me to "double-down" in locating discussions and fellowships that could intelligently discern what was meant by these terms. Especially when flung cryptically through the ether from the more traditional pulpits I was familiar with that fled to the refuges of past, out-moded Christian doctrines under new words like neo-Calvinism, neo-Reformed, Radical Orthodoxy (which is distinctly different from Radical Theology, which is a postmodern, emergent term, describing the general future direction of Christian theology), or even various shades of "progressivism." If Christianity was to flourish, and become a message embraced by all people everywhere, than Jesus must be its center; our faith be returned to a child-like state freed of adult fears and socio-political boundaries; and, God's divine love and atoning redemption needed to be better understood.

Hence, to claim a "prodigal Christianity" as David Fitch has, as a re-incarnated form of a more "progressive" contemporary Christianity (ala Anabaptism), wasn't the direction I really was looking for when learning of the term "missional" being bantered about by many well-read evangelics across the worlds of evangelicalism by banner, headline, or punchline. Nor did I suspect that it had become God's newest form of ministry to the world at large. Though it may be more antiseptically palatable to traditional congregations unwilling to de/construct their personal beliefs, and religious platforms, it doesn't really challenge the traditional church to change its old ways and views... only to cling to them all the tighter while pretending itself to be epistemological "progressive" and contemporarily "relevant" in its global witness. Overall, I like the emphasis Anabaptism places upon ministry, witness, worship, and prayer, but I also fear that it would not allow its congregants great enough latitude to grow beyond the boundaries of traditional Christianity while mis-believing themselves to be "progressive" in tone and temperament. Certainly it seems like a "big" move forward, or as a way out of the "evangelical-box" that has been created in the name of Jesus, but it still brings a lot of traditional, classical baggage with it requiring "reformation" in presentation and discussion, attitude and approach, work and deed. A reformation that Emergent Christianity already had started in the early 1990s, and is even now resetting once again in light of conflicted social platforms and transparent postmodern movements (meaning that Emergent Christianity is changing as a movement, just as we do ourselves as people, from decade to decade, life stage to life stage, as it matures in message and content).

Hence, my understanding of a relevant Christianity must be one that includes re-visioning and re-imaging the church.... A church which might have to be burned down before it can arise up again from its denominational ashes like that of Jesus life and ministry (which more-or-less is classic Emergent doctrine). But unlike the past, today's new Emergent Christians must be willing to push forward beyond Evangelic Christian doctrines in a positivistic sense of health and healing. For not all can remain ashes for long. One must begin anew rebuilding a theologic house in which to live... but importantly, one that is Emergent in temperament, and expansively relevant to today's societies. And importantly, one must remember the ashes we've come from as a movement - if not having already learned to live uncomfortably within - by holding onto faith's holy elements of doubt and mystery (as versus more popular religious folklores expressing hardlined biblical certainties) when thinking of all things God.... For anybody who has experienced their epistemologic views of the world being burned down, you will understand what I mean. Unfortunately, we too-quickly-embrace the next new-and-more-promising doctrine, dogma, or movement, which unfortunately can end up not unlike our first epistemological marriage that burned down earlier in life (kinda like a quick "second' or "third" marriage, poor examples though they may be). My sense is to caution one from rebuilding their life too quickly. To trust God with the anarchy that exists in our lives before attempting to move on too soon lest we build more structures on sand that are not theologically (nor existentially) sustainable. Why? Because there can be had valuable insight learned from these times of doubt and skepticism, fury and anger, that cannot be obtained at any other time in our lives. And mostly, it is because we ourselves must first be broken down by the Spirit of God in order to see the living God again in the lights of His all-healing love and redemption. And so, as hard as it is, do not run from these times of foundational upheaval - be they personal or institutional. But learn to embrace them, to accept them, to allow God's fullness to dwell within them as He guides us towards a complete(r) restoration as only our Lord can provide in His love and wisdom (I think this was profoundly expressed by David Guetta's, "Titanium ft. Sia").

And please understand that Emergent Christians are ones  who have been born out of the ashes of their old worlds of faith-belief. Who fear to return to their former ways and life unwisely. Wishing to hang onto God's mystery and paradox, as much as to investigate just what good doctrine might portend, when unleashed from the codified docks of indefatigable declarations, deceptive assurances, and Christian platitudes. The Christian message is simple. God is God. God has done all things because of His love for creation. Jesus is God's supreme expression of love (and misunderstanding, and hate, and death). We each bear value to God as to one another. We each were built for community and fellowship, both with God, and with one another. Anything which tears away at these truths does so to its own peril. Anything which lessens the impact of these truths cannot survive. Anything which wishes to demarcate itself from these truths does so to its error. For those who wish to be "missional" God bless you. But in your "missional outreach" be receptive to being broken and remade in the image of Christ so that all your worlds become like sweet incense to the Lord of Heaven and Earth.

And as for my fellow Emergents... do not be afraid to rebuild again. Its something we must do. If not, than another will, and perhaps less vigorously, if not unwisely. Though we live as broken people we must also live towards restoration of faith and hope. And if the attitudinal perspective of Emergent Christianity is to survive than this task must be our pledge and banner. For I look to an expansive, embracing, borderless, Christianity - more than the one I was born into and trained within. One that is broken. That is as much institutionally, as it is personally, transformational. That is less sure about things. But whose center is truly Jesus in all things, conformities, ministries, and goodwill. Which is at all times at work discriminating itself. One that is more open to our faithful Redeemer-Creator's revelations of Himself for this day and age. A Christian faith which can openly re-envision classic church doctrines and missional practices for postmodern ministry. A faith that challenges religious beliefs to the radicalness of the new gospel of Christ as first set forth by our Lord in the Scriptures.

From ashes to ashes, from dust to dust, yea verily the church must proceed. But within these redemptive ashes of burned up lives may there beat hearts of living gold and silver. Not works of tinkling brass and conforming dogmas decrying whose "in" and whose "out" of  God's holy love. Where the wheat of God's living Word is bravely proclaimed and wisely discerned beyond the dark creeds and confessions of disempowering denominations and overweening scholars. Where its life-giving bread is eaten and consumed giving strength to the life of faith and belief. Where the leavening yeast of dithering words and spoiling feast be culled from the dying vineyards of gaping mouths fed by pulpit or press,  to be then burned upon an altar's rising infernos of the dying dead. Where may be found receptive schools of unified fellowships not only proclaiming the word missional, but seeking within their bodies politic to be truly transformational. No longer seized upon Christianity's pre-packaged structures and stanchioned beliefs presented to the pandering public listening between the gaps of our ostracizing words and spurning deeds. And if unwilling to be transformational, than claim not the banner of missional, for it deceives a church's congregants providing title where there is no life of the Spirit. For the church has entered once again into a spiritual period of Reformation not unlike its rebirth out of classic Medievalism 500 years earlier, causing it to e-merge from Modernism's timorous fears and pilavorous claims as it became transformed by e-mergent spirit and enlightened inquiry. Listening to the words of her Lord afresh through the many eyes and ears of those surrounding it - be they friend or foe - who had discerned the gospel's proclaim to its sin and transgression. Yea, even so, as God's holy love is missional may our charitable forbearance be as well. A forbearance that seeks all men to dwell in the shadow of the divine before the Father's grace of mercy and forgiveness, hope and charity, as we now enter upon new worlds to come filled with Son and Spirit promising challenge and conflict to the tension of faith's apprehension.

R.E. Slater
June 21, 2013

 

 

Is “Prodigal Christianity” Sustainable?

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/emergentvillage/2013/03/is-prodigal-christianity-sustainable/

 

by Rob Davis

March 4, 2013

Comments

 

A couple of weeks ago, Tony Jones posted an introductory video [(see below)] to a new book by Geoff Holsclaw and David Fitch called Prodigal Christianity. I posted my initial thoughts, and then began a conversation with Geoff about the book via email. I told Geoff that I would read the rest of the book, and then try to write a review. But, once I got the book and starting reading it, it felt like I was being taken back in time three years. I hope that doesn’t sound condescending, so let me explain:

 

When my family and I left “the church,” I had spent the previous several years heading in a certain direction theologically. The understanding of gospel and mission that I was attracted to – and what I felt best represented what the Bible was all about – was influenced by Lesslie Newbigin, N.T. Wright, Chris Wright, Tim Keller, Michael Goheen, Michael Frost, Alan Hirsch, Brian Walsh, and many other similar thinkers. But, for me, theology was not a solely intellectual thing. I had made a commitment to not only learn things but to embody them. So, while I was on staff at a large neo-Reformed church, I was also teaching classes and leading a community group in our home, trying to live out the kinds of things I was learning with a group of people.

 

Reading through this book has been a sort of deja vu. I’m not sure how different the authors’ understanding is from where I was three years ago. If I would’ve come across this book back then, I’m sure I would’ve endorsed it wholeheartedly, and it would have become part of the “curriculum” for my own teaching and practice.

 

I have sat down several times and tried to write a review of the book. If I could put it all together, I have several posts worth of content. But, to be honest, it’s been so weird for me to have this experience that I’m not sure how capable I am of doing that. Or how helpful to anyone it would be. So, rather than doing that, for now, I’m just going to take a couple of posts and respond to a couple of things in the book.

 

This first post is a response to an idea in the book that suggests that what loosely goes under the names “emergent” or “emergence” or “emerging” is not “capable of providing direction” as a “way of thinking about church in mission.” Basically, the authors are trying to recognize and praise the influence emergent has had on their thinking, while wanting to encourage their readers in a different direction. Thus the term “Prodigal Christianity” in contrast to Emergent or Emergence Christianity.

 

I’m sure that the authors would admit that their exposure to Emergent has been limited [by their background and traditions - res]. None of us has a God’s-eye-view on anything. We can only speak from our experience. And, they may have some legitimate critiques of many aspects of the movement. But, from my perspective, I don’t think they’re seeing the bigger picture. What I am seeing (and hoping) to be the case is that emergent has a truly sustainable structure and ethos that no other movement within (Western) Christianity has. I think the future of Christianity, at least in this part of the world, is actually to be found among those who go under the broad umbrellas of emergent or progressive Christianity. This movement has even made space for atheists/agnostics/skeptics (the “nones”) like myself who can no longer believe in much of what orthodox Christianity requires, but who nonetheless find much common ground with emergent. Honestly, I don’t see how any of us could “exist” within the traditional structures of orthodox Christianity.

 

So, how have I come to these kinds of predictions?

 

Western culture has shifted – and will continue to shift – to such a degree that much of what passes for traditional/orthodox Christianity is not going to remain within the next few decades. That which does not evolve will become extinct. It used to be the case that slavery was considered “normal”; now, it is pretty difficult to find reasonable people who think it should not have been outlawed. I think many other beliefs and ideas within orthodox Christianity will increasingly be seen as archaic, oppressive, ridiculous, etc. “The church” can either embrace this shift as “the new normal” and “reform” itself, or it will likewise become entirely irrelevant to the majority of people. Those who are trying to “go back” to some different time or place are simply building the walls of their own museum.

 

Much of what goes on under the umbrellas of “evangelicalism,” “neo-Reformed” and many other related movements (including “missional”/”incarnational” visions) will morph into what the culture at large will continue to perceive as “the new fundamentalism.” It seems that the main distinction is between those who see the Bible as the primary source of knowledge/truth, and those who don’t [this mainly cuts across how we think of the Bible - as a revelation from God about Himself, His message, His plans, or as an "All-in-One" Book that can ignore scientific discovery which also can tell us about our Creator Redeemer - res]. Even those who reject the modern concept of inerrancy fall into this same fideistic trap. Now, of course, the Bible is an amazing and interesting set of documents; I think we ignore it at our own cultural and literary peril. But, the future of Christianity will be open to diverse sources of knowledge from many different streams.

 

Finally, no matter how much “relationship” is established between people coming from very different perspectives, the majority of people will not “convert” to those archaic forms of Christianity – at least not permanently. Of course, there are always waves of change, but in the long term, I think we will see a lot more people rejecting Christianity altogether rather than embracing a “bibliocentric” way of life. People have become a lot more aware of these subtle but sophisticated conversion techniques (missional as evangelism), and will be on guard against all attempts for someone to turn them into a project – a means to an end – via bait-and-switch hidden agendas.

 

I, for one, am very hopeful for the future of Christianity. But, the kind of Christianity that I think will remain, the kind that will benefit the most people, will look very different from many of the loudest voices who claim to speak for Christianity in our culture today. I hope to continue to lay out out my own vision for what that kind of Christianity might look like through my personal blog.

 

 

Prodigal Christianity - Why This Book? by Fitch and Holsclaw

 

 

 

 

Some Honest Talk about Labels (Emergent, Missional, Etc.)

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/tonyjones/2013/02/20/some-honest-talk-about-labels-emergent-missional-etc/

 

by Tony Jones

February 20, 2013

Comments

 

I was interested to see the above video, promoting the new book by my friends David Fitch and Geoff Holsclaw. It was particularly interesting based on how they used some terminology in the promo video. They repeatedly used the terms “neo-Reformed” and “Emergent” as opposite poles, and they used their own preferred term, “missional,” as the middle way between those two erroneous options.

That was most intriguing to me is that I first met both of these guys at an Emergent Village Cohort. Indeed, Geoff ran the Chicago cohort for many years — it was, under his leadership, one of the strongest cohorts in the country. Meanwhile, Fitch was injecting his own missional-Anabaptist theology into the emergent movement in a powerful way. Fitch has gained an audience for his theology in large part because of his generous engagement with the emergent movement.

 

In other words, these guys are among the most responsible people for the growth and development of the emergent movement, from which they are now trying to verbally distinguish themselves.

 

I’ve written before about the term “missional.” It bends a lot of ways. It’s a term that basically anyone can use for what ever purpose they want — from a stalwart Southern Baptist neocon like Ed Stetzer to an Anabaptist pacifist like David Fitch. And then you’ve got the neo-Barthian camp like Darrell Guder and John Franke. They’re all “missional,” and so are a dozen church planting networks like TransForm, Forge, and the Parish Collective.

 

So here’s a test. Imagine a Christian leader saying this: “I’m not missional.”

 

No one’s going to say that. Not a PC(USA) pastor, and not a PCA pastor. Not a just-war Augustinian, and not an Anabaptist pacifist. Scot McKnight will say he’s missional, and so will Brian McLaren. So will the pope. So will I.

 

You might say you’re not Presbyterian or you’re not emergent. But you’re not going to say that you’re not missional.

 

Meanwhile, we all know that the term “emergent” has been redefined by conservatives. As hard as we tried to use it as an open-handed term for an ongoing theological conversation, the theological police jumped up and down screaming that “emergent = liberal” that people started to believe it. Publishers, for instance, once loved the term; they now want nothing to do with it.

 

So my prediction is that people will keep using the term “missional” and defining it in their own ways. And I think that’s fine. But let’s all remember that with such a broad term that “missional” — like “evangelical,” or even “Christian” — what it really means lies in the definition of the speaker, and the interpretation of the hearer.

 

Would you say that you’re a “missional” Christian? Or would you say that you’re not?

Continue to -

 

Index to past articles on "An Emerging Theology"