Monthly Archives: May 2010

Why Lewis Lovers should Read Tolkien’s Letters

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By “Lewis lovers” I especially mean people who love his non-fiction, his essays and books

You should read Tolkien’s letters to realize he is every bit as intellectual and deep and thoughtful as Lewis was.  You may claim you have never doubted that this was the case, but I’m skeptical. Some forms of knowledge depend on direct experience and the affirmation from someone lacking that experience just doesn’t seem credible.

I appreciate that Tolkien’s best work is his fiction and that he would be more than satisfied if you stopped with it.  But I really wish more people read his letters.

Francis Turretin on keeping or breaking the Gospel Covenant

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16TH TOPIC

EIGHTH QUESTION
Does faith alone justify? We affirm against the Romanists.

[excerpt follows]

III. But that the state of the question may be the more easily understood, we must remark that a twofold trial can be entered into by God with man: either by the law (inasmuch as he is viewed as guilty of violating the law by sin and thus comes under the accusation and condemnation of the law); or by the gospel (inasmuch as he is accused by Satan of having violated the gospel covenant and so is supposed to be an unbeliever and impenitent or a hypocrite, who has not testified by works the faith he has professed with his mouth). Now to this twofold trial a twofold justification ought to answer; not in the Romish sense, but in a very different sense. The first is that by which man is absolved from the guilt of sin on account of the righteousness of Christ imputed to us and apprehended by faith; the other is that by which he is freed from the charge of unbelief and hypocrisy and declared to be a true believer and child of God; one who has fulfilled the gospel covenant (if not perfectly as to degree, still sincerely as to parts) and answered to the divine call by the exercise of faith and piety. The first is justification properly so called; the other is only a declaration of it. That is justification of cause a priori; this is justification of sign or of effect a posteriori, declaratively. In that, faith alone can have a place because it alone apprehends the righteousness of Christ, by whose merit we are freed from the condemnation of the law; in this, works also are requited as the effects and signs of faith, by which its truth and sincerity are declared against the accusation of unbelief and hypocrisy. For as faith justifies a person, so works justify faith.

IV. The question does not concern justification a posteriori and declaratively in the fatherly and gospel trial–whether faith alone without works concurs to it (for we confess that works come in here with faith; yea, that works only are properly regarded because it is concerned with the justification of faith, which can be gathered from no other source more certainly than by works as its effects and indubitable proofs). Rather the question concerns justification a priori, which frees us from the legal trial, which is concerned with the justification of the wicked and the perfect righteousness, which can be opposed to the curse of the law and acquire for us a right to life–whether works come into consideration here with faith (as the Romanists hold) or whether faith alone (as we maintain).

David hates his Gentile friend while his Son loves his enemies.

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Second Samuel 11-12 are plainly one story beginning and ending with the siege of the Ammonite city of Rabbah.  Consider how easily this story works without any mention of Uriah or Bathsheba:

In the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle, David sent Joab, and his servants with him, and all Israel. And they ravaged the Ammonites and besieged Rabbah. But David remained at Jerusalem. Now Joab fought against Rabbah of the Ammonites and took the royal city.  And Joab sent messengers to David and said, “I have fought against Rabbah; moreover, I have taken the city of waters.  Now then gather the rest of the people together and encamp against the city and take it, lest I take the city and it be called by my name.” So David gathered all the people together and went to Rabbah and fought against it and took it.  And he took the crown of their king from his head. The weight of it was a talent of gold, and in it was a precious stone, and it was placed on David’s head. And he brought out the spoil of the city, a very great amount. And he brought out the people who were in it and set them to labor with saws and iron picks and iron axes and made them toil at the brick kilns. And thus he did to all the cities of the Ammonites. Then David and all the people returned to Jerusalem.

So David is expanding territory and power against some Gentiles.  Presumably he has reason for doing so (I haven’t investigated the background yet), but the text makes it sound purely adventurous, especially since David doesn’t bother to go–which is what lands him in temptation and the resulting murders (several died, not just Uriah) to cover it up.

But in this story about conquering enemy Gentiles is sandwiched another story about how David treats a Gentile who has been his loyal hero.  Uriah was a Hittite, a Gentile, and was one of David’s mighty men.  Bathsheba was likewise the Granddaughter and daughter of men who had been loyal to David from his fugitive days.  That is probably how she ended up married to Uriah.

Here’s some food for thought:

Ahithophel was one of David’s chief counsellors, and Eliam was one of his chief soldiers. Eliam apparently had been with David from the time he was in the wilderness before he became king. This emerges from 2 Samuel 23. Verse 34 identifies Eliam as one of the thirty mighty men. Verse 13 says that three of these men brought David water while he was living in the cave of Adullam, after fleeing from Saul (1 Samuel 22:1-2). I am assuming from the wording of 2 Samuel 23:13 that the “thirty” were already in existence at this time; 1 Samuel 22:2 says that David had four hundred men with him then. We don’t know when this was exactly, but let us assume David was 27. Eliam would have been 19. Even if Eliam had not yet become part of the thirty at this time, clearly he became one early in David’s reign, for that was the time when the wars were fought, and only during such wars could he emerge as one of the mighty men.

What does this mean? It means that Bathsheba grew up around the palace of David. She was two years old, on our scheme, when David became king. Her father and grandfather were often at the palace. David knew them intimately. Did David bounce Bathsheba on his knee when she was a little girl? It is hard to imagine that he did not! Knowing David, I imagine he often got down on the floor and horsed around with the little kids of the court. I’ll bet David even burped Bathsheba on his shoulder when she was an infant.

Bathsheba grew up in awe of David, the man after God’s own heart, the author of the psalms, God’s anointed leader. All her life she had viewed him as one of Israel’s preeminent spiritual leaders. She had heard him speak of the Lord many times. She had heard her father and grandfather praise him. So, when David called for her, she came. (I doubt if she’d’ve come if Ahab had summoned her.)

Why did David have to ask who she was (2 Samuel 11:3)? At the age of fifty, his eyesight had doubtless begun to diminish. She was at some distance, and he could only see her general form. But note that she lived near enough to the palace to be espied, which again shows that she and her husband were closely associated with the court. Moreover, the form of the answer David received, “Is this not Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite?” (v. 3), indicates that the man assumed David knew her: “Oh, you know that is, David. That’s Bathsheba.”

What did David say to her? We can only imagine, but I suppose it went like this: “Trust me. This isn’t wrong. I’m the king, after all.” And Bathsheba trusted him. After all, unlike the ordinary Israelite, David had lots of wives and concubines. (He wasn’t supposed to, of course, but he did.) Kings, Bathsheba knew, were different from ordinary people.

So David then finds out Bathsheba is pregnant.  Summons Uriah and tries to get him to sleep with her so that he has plausible deniability, and then when that fails has Uriah send his own sealed orders to be murdered to Joab, who faithfully carries them out at the expense not only of Uriah’s life but of several unnamed others.

That is how David, the king, treats Gentiles.  It is not the only way.  Other Gentiles are converted by David’s testimony.

But one of the basic truths about Jesus is that he, as Israel’s king, is also the rightful king of the world.  And he would never treat a Gentile who entrusted himself to him the way David treated Uriah.

if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.  For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved. 11 For the Scripture says, “Everyone who believes in him will not be put to shame.”  For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; for the same Lord is Lord of all, bestowing his riches on all who call on him. For “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

And with Jesus, there are no foreigners reduced to servant class.  All are family.

I can’t believe someone saw so clearly where the Constitution would lead us!

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“I foresee the day when rights will subsume responsibilities, where the poor and the despised will become wage slaves of the elites; and the mercantilism that we have fought against and the tyranny that we have stood against will be swallowed by the average American citizen. And they will call that ‘freedom’.”

via Arthur St. Clair on the U.S. Constitution — MichaelDuchemin.com.

When did the Reformation end?

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One may see no vested priests or private masses being offered in chantry chapels, yet a lot in Evangelical worship today owes much to the un-Reformed habits of the late Middle Ages. I have been struck by this supreme historical irony as I visited many Evangelical churches in the past several years (the following comments are not aimed at any single congregation or denomination).

First, I encountered the extraordinary passivity of these congregations. Aside from usually standing to sing, the laity sit in silence for the entire service. They neither kneel nor stand to pray. Moreover, at the end of every prayer (offered by the minister alone), they are mute; most Protestant pastors must literally answer themselves with an audible “Amen.” Of course, levels of congregational participation vary among congregations, but the norm is amazingly passive. One would not be surprised to discover the laity bringing prayer beads like their medieval forerunners, just to have something to do during the service.

Second, as there is a paucity of participation, so there is often a scarcity of Scripture. While the biblical passage under consideration might be well expounded, the number of verses actually read is usually very small indeed. I have attended many services where a single verse was the extent of the lection for that Lord’s Day. Nor is there any compunction against reading exclusively from the New Testament. Sunday after Sunday may go by with no readings from the Old Testament during the main morning service. Is it possible that no one has ever heard of the Marcionite heresy? It does make me wonder.

Third, communion is administered infrequently, as in the late Middle Ages, so the faithful only receive a few times a year. And Evangelicals have found a new way to effectively deny the cup to the laity by avoiding the biblical element of wine. (Where is Jan Hus when we need him?) Against dominical command and the clear words of the New Testament, most Evangelicals persist in employing grape juice rather than wine in the sacrament. Paradoxically, those whose approach to Scripture might be deemed most literalistic choose to set aside Christ’s clear injunction.

Here, in a sense, is a modern Evangelical version of what the Anglican Thirty-nine Articles call a “work of supererogation.” Evangelicals may still reject the idea of accumulating surplus merit, but the implication of substituting grape juice for wine in the sacrament is that we know better than our Lord and can be more pious than Jesus. And some Evangelicals have an attitude toward alcohol that one could only describe as superstitious.

via Touchstone Archives: An Unlikely Window on the Medieval Church.

My Favorite Anglican Pastor/Scholar – Part 3

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PART ONE / PART TWO

Wright’s public conversation about which god, if any, is the true God who made and is responsible for the world centers from beginning to end on the New Testament documents and how they can possibly be accounted for.

N. T. Wright introduces his subject by retelling the parable of the wicked tenants and the vineyard. The NT documents are the vineyard and the question is who are the proper tenants, who the proper landlord, and what the proper rent. (BTW, this is all massively based on memory; I simply don’t have time to do serious book reviews these days.) He spends a large part of the book dealing with philosophical issues regarding scholarship in general and the history of first-century Palestine in particular. He advocates “critical realism.” “Critical” refers to the fact that there are no “neutral” observers of brute data, contrary to the enlightenment myth of rational scholarship. “Realism” refers to the contention that the world really exists and that we all live in it and can, in principle, talk about it and even be challenged by one another. The consequence of “critical” is that we must not only allow, but expect, a scholar’s basic values and commitments to affect his perceptions and conclusions. The consequence of “realism” is that it is still worth talking to him about what really happened to Jesus.

There is some great stuff here about worldviews and how stories are basic to them, but I don’t trust myself to summarize it.

Wright’s basic question is, given what we know about ancient Christianity and ancient Judaism, how do we account for the birth of the Church? The idea is to work back to Jesus as a middle term between first-century Judaism and late-first century Christianity. Wright, thus spends a great deal of time analyzing the basic similarities and differences between Judaism and the Church.

One of Wright’s most helpful points is his summarizing of the Jewish worldview. He is able to reduce it to a few points without at all seeming reductionistc. The basic points are creational monotheism, eschatology, and election.

Creational monotheism distinguishes Israel’s theology from pantheism and polytheism. There is one God who created and is responsible for all things.

Several points strike me as memorable and worth passing on here.

First, this is a political slogan as much as a theological doctrine (think of the riot in Ephesus and the chant, “Great is Artemis of the Ephesians”). Monotheism means God is king and Caesar is not. (Thus the similarity and difference with the Church’s gospel, which is, “Jesus is Lord” and Caesar is not.) For Israel in the first century this entailed a variety of disputes, riots, outlaw bandits, and outbreaks, and ultimately outright war with the pagan world empire Rome (another note of dissimilarity: while we see similare accusations on the part of Rome against Christians, we see a much differnet view of social ethics).

Second, God’s unity never precluded the possibility of Trinitarian theology. It was a unity over against all other powers, real or imagined, not a unity within God’s substance or personality.

Third, it entails comprehensive providence. While God could do obvious miracles Wright shows that all Jews viewed ordinary events in history as also God’s work, including both natural occurences and human decisions.

Fourth, it entails that God is committed to doing something about the presence of evil in the world, which leads us to the next part of Israel’s world view.

TO BE CONTINUED

My politics at the moment

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I have gone about three weeks without getting any news/blogs/commentary feeds or listening to talk radio, or even channel surfing for news.  The only exceptions you will see is stuff that gets sent my way via social media.  I’m not cutting off friends just because they link to political stuff, so I’ll probably still see a few things and pass them on.  But it won’t happen as often as it used to.

I’m happier not knowing what the Beast is trying to do to me.  The drain caused by learning the latest is not commensurate with my ability to do anything about it.  This means that worrying about their destructive work is simply another tax on me: I bear with unnecessary and useless anxiety in addition to all the other burdens imposed by our political masters.

If I had money or time or any other surplus, I wouldn’t mind diving back in.  But I don’t have any surplus of anything right now.  Survival is pretty much my only concern.

This doesn’t mean I don’t have opinions.  I do.  Leaving aside the insane global war we are involved in, I think what George Bush, Alan Greenspan, Henry Paulson, and Ben Bernanke have done to the peons (including me) outside of the Wall Street, DC nexus is a whole new level of domestic evil that surpasses anything else heretofore perpetrated on the peoples of the United States.  And Obama is doubling, tripling, quadrupling down on all of it.

I hate it all.  I don’t want reform.  I don’t want the GOP to win (wouldn’t mind if they did next year, but that’s just an immediate visceral thing that will lead to other frustrations).  I want the whole regime to go the way of the Great Auk and the Dodo bird.  I want the territory between Mexico and Canada (and Hawaii, and Alaska) freed from the Parasite/Predator Class.

But, again, there is nothing I can do about it.  And God’s got his own time table and plan.  My job is to live a quiet life and work to support my own and anyone else I can help. Caring about politics in a news-following way is just a way to feel angry and waste time. Neither helps.

By the way, I don’t think that civil government is a necessary evil.  I just think the civil government that we actually have is an unnecessary evil.  But again, God has his reasons and I may not have enough information to have a correct opinion.