doctrine

Yesterday evening I went to the mid-week Bible study at Grace Reformed Baptist Church in Chattanooga. Pastor Wayne Layton has been leading a series examining the church’s statement of faith and last night he came to what Christians know as the hypostatic union. 

Hypostatic union is bit of an intimidating term that describes the union of Jesus’ two natures. Jesus has a human nature and a divine nature and these two natures are united in the one person of Jesus Christ. Christ is not two persons—one human and one divine—rather, he is one person with two distinct natures. These natures do not mix or intermingle. Each is completely distinct.

This intimidating term describes a glorious and eternal reality. We can ponder and treasure this reality for all of our lives and never get to the end of it. It occurred to me last night that when it comes to pondering such tough and glorious doctrines, there are at least two ways we can err—two ways in which pride can rear its ugly head.

It has been a bit of a theme in my life lately—the timeliness and relevance of words spoken or words written many years ago. Such is this case with this quote from the pen of J.C. Ryle, who wrote about the dislike of dogma that was so powerfully present in his day and age. Here is what Ryle had to say, words that could as easily be written about our day:

[Dislike of dogma] is an epidemic which is just now doing great harm, and specially among young people…. It produces what I must venture to call…a “jelly-fish” Christianity in the land: that is, a Christianity without bone, or muscle, or power. A jelly-fish…is a pretty and graceful object when it floats in the sea, contracting and expanding like a little, delicate, transparent umbrella. Yet the same jelly-fish, when cast on the shore, is a mere helpless lump, without capacity for movement, self-defense, or self-preservation. Alas! It is a vivid type of much of the religion of this day, of which the leading principle is, “No dogma, no distinct tenets, no positive doctrine.” We have hundreds of “jelly-fish” clergymen, who seem not to have a single bone in their body of divinity. They have not definite opinions; they belong to no school or party; they are so afraid of “extreme views” that they have no views at all. We have thousands of “jelly-fish” sermons preached every year, sermons without an edge, or a point, or a corner, smooth as billiard balls, awakening no sinner, and edifying no saint. We have Legions of “jelly-fish” young men annually turned out from our Universities, armed with a few scraps of second-hand philosophy, who think it a mark of cleverness and intellect to have no decided opinions about anything in religion, and to be utterly unable to make up their minds as to what is Christian truth. They live apparently in a state of suspense, like Mohamet’s fabled coffin, hanging between heaven and earth…and last, and worst of all, we have myriads of “jelly-fish” worshippers-respectable Church-going people, who have no distinct and definite views about any point in theology. They cannot discern things that differ, any more than color-blind people can distinguish colors. They think everybody is right and nobody wrong, everything is true and nothing is false, all sermons are good and none are bad, every clergyman is sound and no clergyman is unsound. They are “tossed to and fro, like children, by every wind of doctrine”; often carried away by any new excitement and sensational movement; ever ready for new things, because they have no firm grasp on the old; and utterly unable to “render a reason of the hope that is in them.” …Never was it so important for laymen to hold systematic views of truth, and for ordained ministers to “enunciate dogma” very clearly and distinctly in their teaching.

I had a rather long and interesting (but good!) lunch today. A little while ago I read on Thabiti Anyabwile’s blog that he never actually orders at restaurants anymore, but instead asks the server to just get something he or she thinks Thabiti would like. I ate today at an Italian place and really didn’t know what to order. So I just told the server to surprise me (but not with anything containing fish). It was only later that I learned this was only her third day on the job. But no matter, she ordered me something quite tasty and spaghetti-like, though I didn’t learn what it was. There were twenty or thirty of us eating together in that restaurant so it took some time for the food to be ready. When it showed up I slurped down my food (which is one of the advantages of eating Italian—it’s highly slurpable), I raced back to the convention center and then settled back in here for the session led by R.C. Sproul (though first we sang “I Will Glory in My Redeemer”). And I’m glad I made it back as it was easily one of the most powerful sermons I’ve ever heard.

Sproul discussed what it means that Jesus was cursed by God. Though Sproul has studied the subject for over fifty years, he still feels like he is barely scratching the surface of the meaning and significance of the cross of Christ. The cross is explained through many images and many metaphors to show that it is multi-faceted. It is woven by several distinct, brightly-hued threads that together form the beautiful work of art. The New Testament uses the language of substitution, of vicarious, of satisfaction of justice, of the metaphor of the kinsmen redeemer who pays the bridal price to purchase the bride. We see the motif that speaks of ransom, the motif of victory over Satan and the powers of darkness. But there is one image, one aspect, that has receded in our day into total obscurity and it is the curse inflicted by God on His own Son.

When we think today of curse, we think of voodoo or the occult—spells, hexes, pins jabbed into dolls. Curse implies some kind of superstition. But in biblical categories there is nothing superstitious about it. The idea is deeply rooted in biblical history and we need only go to the opening chapters of Genesis to see God’s anathema, His curse, on the serpent and on the earth itself. When God gives the law He attaches to it both negative and positive sanctions. The positive is articulated in terms of the concept of blessedness. The negative is articulated in terms of a curse.

The purpose of this talk was to explore the meaning and significance of the idea of God’s divine curse. When the prophets of the Old Testament spoke the words that God had placed in their mouths, the favorite method the prophets used to express the word of God was the method called the oracle. The prophets knew of two kinds of oracle—the oracle of weal and the oracle of woe. The oracle of weal would be known by the word blessed while the oracle of doom would be known by the word woe. In contrast, in North America today we believe in a God who is capable of infinitely blessing people but utterly incapable of bringing judgment upon them.

To understand what it meant to a Jew to be cursed is to look at the famous Hebrew benediction in the Old Testament. “May the Lord bless you and keep you…” There is no better example of “synonymous parallelism” than here where the same thing is said in three different ways: bless/keep, face to shine/be gracious, life up the light of His countenance/give you His peace. So how did the Jew understand blessing? To be blessed by God is to be bathed in the glory that emanates from His face. This is what Moses begged for on the mountain and when Moses saw even just the glimpse of the back parts of God, his face shone. The Jew’s ultimate hope was just to see God’s face. The Jew begged for such blessing that he might see God’s face.

The antithesis of this blessing can be seen in vivid contrast to the benediction. It would be the supreme malediction and would go something like this: “May the Lord curse you and abandon you. May the Lord keep you in darkness and give you only judgment without grace. May the Lord turn His back upon you and remove His peace from you forever.”

On the Day of Atonement there are several animals involved in the ritual. The High Priest, before he enters the Holy of Holies, involves two animals, one of which is killed and the other which survives. The one is killed and its blood is sprinkled on the mercy seat. But there is no power in this blood except that it points forward to the blood of the Lamb. What is symbolized is an act of propitiation—a vertical transaction. The other animal is not killed but becomes the object of imputation where the priest now lays his hands on its back, symbolically indicating the transfer or imputation of the guilt of the people to the goat. At the end of the ceremony, he lays his hands on the goat and drives that goat into the wilderness. He is driven outside the camp. To be driven outside the camp, outside the community, was to be driven to the place where God’s blessings did not reach. He was sent into the outer darkness; into the curse. This is expiation. In the cross not only is the Father’s justice satisfied by the atoning work of the Son, but in carrying our sins the Son removes them as far as the east is from the west. He does this by being cursed. Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law not just by being cursed for us, but by becoming a curse for us. He who is the incarnation of the glory of God now becomes the very incarnation of the divine curse.

God is too holy to even look at sin. His eyes are averted from His Son. The light of His countenance is turned off; all blessedness is removed from His Son whom He loves. And in its place is the full measure of the divine curse. All the imagery that portrays the historical event of the cross is the imagery of the curse. Jesus needed to be delivered into the hands of the gentiles so He could be crucified outside the camp so the full measure of the curse and the darkness could be visited upon Him. God adds to these details others—God turns out the light of the sun so as God turns His face, even the sun won’t shine on Calvary. Bearing the full measure of the curse Christ screams “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Jesus did not merely feel forsaken; He was forsaken. He was utterly, totally and completely forsaken by the Father.

There is none of this to be found in the pseudo-gospels of our day. When we hear that Jesus loves us all unconditionally, it is a travesty. What pagan when he hears this does not hear that he has no need of repentance? He can continue in sin without fear knowing that all has been taken care of. There is a profound sense that God does love people even in their corruption, but they are still under his anathema. Even in this hall today there are many who are under the curse of God; who have not yet fled to the cross; who are still counting on this idea of the unconditional love of God.

When Jesus was forsaken by God, when He bore the curse, it was as if Jesus heard the words “God damn you.” This is what it means to be under the anathema of the curse. It is far worse, far more powerful, far more profound than we can know. We cannot understand this, but we know it is true. Everyone who has not been covered by the righteousness of Christ draws every breath under the curse of God. If you believe that, you will stop adding to the gospel and start preaching it with clarity and with boldness because it is the only hope we have. And it is hope enough.

Election and Free Will: God’s Gracious Choice and Our Responsibility is what I believe to be the first volume in a series called “Explorations in Biblical Theology” (at least I could find no mention of previously published volumes). This book is written by Robert A. Peterson who is also serving as the Series Editor. The series is to include two types of books: some will treat biblical themes while others will deal with the theology of specific books of the Bible. Written for college seniors, seminarians, pastors and thoughtful lay readers, the volumes are intended to be accessible and unobscured by excessive reference to the original languages or to theological jargon. “Explorations in Biblical Theology is committed to being warm and winsome, with a focus on applying God’s truth to life.”

Peterson begins Election and Free Will with a defense of its existence. He outlines three reasons that we need a new book dealing with biblical teaching on election and the related topic of free will:

1.The need for graciousness in the debate about election. The debate about election has been marked, even recently, by a lack of grace. With a topic that stirs such strong emotions, Peterson sought to write a defense of the Reformed understanding of election that dealt fairly and graciously with its critics.2. The tremendous scriptural witness to election. Election is a topic that receives a lot of attention within the pages of Scripture. If this is a topic God emphasizes in the Bible, it is a topic we should also emphasize.3. The insecurity of contemporary life. In an age of insecurity, where we are prone to worry, we should renew our interest in the doctrine of election. “Within the Bible its function is largely to comfort the people of God and assure them that underneath all their meager efforts to live for him are God’s everlasting arms to hold, protect, and caress them.”

Peterson takes what is, in my view, a unique route to a defense of the Reformed view of election and free will. He first surveys the key ideas on the subject through the history of the church, moving from the church fathers all the way to the contemporary church and pausing on many key figures such as Augustine, Pelagius, Luther, Erasmus, Calvin, Arminius, Schleirmacher and Barth. He next moves through Scripture, dedicating a chapter to election as seen in each of the Old Testament; the Gospels and Acts; the General Epistles and Revelation; and then Paul’s Epistles. The Pauline Epistles actually claim two chapters, with the second being an in-depth study of three key passages: Ephesians 1:4-5,11; Romans 8:29-30; and Romans 9:6-24.

Having surveyed election throughout the Bible and having shown that election is present from cover to cover, he turns to three final topics. First he explores free will, pointing out that to understand free will we must understand where biblical characters are located in the biblical story. After all, human free will has changed as the biblical drama has unfolded. The freedom Adam and Eve enjoyed is different than the freedom we experience today; the freedom we experience today is different than what we will experience in eternity. In what I feel is the book’s strongest chapter, Peterson distinguishes between “freedom of choice” and “true freedom” and provides a biblical and thought-provoking defense of the Reformed understanding of free will. There is a false idea in the church, he says, that “the epitome of true freedom is the ability to choose between righteousness and sin. It is not. True freedom is the ability to love and serve God unhindered by sin.” True freedom of the will waits for us when the Lord returns.

Peterson pauses to provide the Bible’s story of election in a chapter I would suggest is an optional read and then moves finally to “Objections to and Applications of Election.” In this chapter he handles objections and application at the same time, showing how common objections to this doctrine provide opportunity to apply it. After all, it is not enough to simply know that this doctrine exists and to know what it means. We must also live in light of it, and the author provides encouragement to do just that.

If Election and Free Will is indicative of the quality we can expect in the “Explorations in Biblical Theology” series, I look forward to reading the forthcoming volumes. This book fulfilled the goals set for it. Winsome and accessible, based on the Bible and consistent with Reformed theology, it will make for good reading for anyone who has struggled with these doctrines or who wishes to understand them better. I am glad to recommend it.

It is available from all of your favorite retailers:

Westminster Books | Monergism Books | Amazon

Aileen and I were once members of a church that, after a few years of existence, began to de-emphasize doctrine. Some of the pastors seemed to reach the conclusion that “doctrine divides” and that the church really just needed to focus on evangelism and on “action.” They seemed to determine that a sound theological foundation held in common was unattainable and unrealistic. Therefore, doctrine should be laid aside and the church should rally around the things we had in common—a desire to reach others with the gospel and a desire to serve other people. It was a bit of a naive strategy, of course, and one that was bound to cause problems. Soon the church began to fracture into camps—those with backgrounds in one Christian tradition began doing things in one way while people from a different Christian background began doing them a different way. For a time chaos reigned. In some small groups members of the church would serve the Lord’s Supper, in others they wouldn’t; in some small groups people were baptizing each other and serving Lord’s Supper to children. There was no standard and eventually the pastors had to step in and intervene. By then, though, it was too late and many of these small groups “defected.” Having created their own theological identity and one that was at odds with that of the pastors, some of these groups left en masse. It was an inevitable result, I think, and one that proved to me that critical importance of doctrine being held in common by members of a church.

I found myself thinking about that church this weekend. I spent a good bit of my time reading the manuscript for Collin Hansen’s Young, Restless, Reformed: A Journalist’s Journey with the New Calvinists, a book that is set to released sometime in the spring. The book discusses some of the resurgence of Reformed theology in our day and does so, in large part, through interviews with some of the pivotal figures in this resurgence. There was one quote by Josh Harris that caught my attention: “Once you’re exposed to [doctrine], you see the richness in it for your own soul, and you’re ruined for anything else.”

This is something I’ve experienced in my own life and something I’ve seen in the lives of other Christians. I once went on a weekend men’s retreat that featured teaching from several local pastors. We heard some interesting messages about serving our wives, about being men of integrity and so on. We had joyful times of worship and lots of time to blow each other away with paintball guns. The thing that has remained in my mind, though, was one of the sermons delivered that weekend. While we had received a steady diet of fairly typical evangelical sermons, one of the pastors stood and delivered what was, in effect, a biblically-grounded expository message. He simply opened up the Bible and explained to us what it meant and how we could apply it to our lives. He gave us real doctrine—true meat instead of mere milk. As we walked from the meeting room to our cabins I could tell there was a buzz running through the crowd of men. They had enjoyed the sermon and had been electrified by it. But they had no category for it. I heard comments like, “I don’t know what that was, but it was amazing! I wish we could hear more teaching like that!” I sat with a small group of men a few minutes later and introduced to them the concept of expositional preaching. Most had never heard of any such thing; neither had they ever enjoyed a sermon like it.

It was a pivotal moment for me. I drove home to me something that the Bible teaches but something I had never really seen before—that true believers want and eventually need to move from milk to meat. Though they may not have a category to describe what is missing from their lives they will feel a restlessness. The Spirit works in them to give them a craving for solid food. And when they take a bite of that food, their eyes light up and they know that they are experiencing something that they were meant to enjoy.

I saw this time and time again. The church was so good at bringing people in through the front doors. They would come in and very often would be saved. Many people were drawn in, became believers, and were baptized. But often they would not last at the church too long. Within a few months or a couple of years they would often step right out the back door. Few left the church and left the faith altogether. Rather, they would leave and head for churches where there was teaching that was more biblical. They would head for churches where the Word was the main thing. They would be drawn to stronger, more biblical teaching, even when they did not know how to express what they needed or what they longed for. Eventually they would find it. Needless to say, Aileen and I felt the same call. Though we stayed some time for the sake of our friends, eventually we, too, had to leave to find a place where the Word was central. And we could never go back.

This takes me back to Josh Harris. Once you’ve been exposed to doctrine you see the richness in it for your own soul and you truly are ruined for anything else. Just as a young child craves solid food, Christians will and must crave the meat of the Word. And once you’ve tasted it, there is no going back.